Mission of Mercy

kyc639

Rating: G
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 20/07/2005
Last Updated: 25/07/2005
Status: completed

In seventh year, Hermione and Ron are fighting worse than ever, and Harry's called upon to fix things.

Chapters

1. I

2. II

1. I

Author's note: The following is inspired by a post by Amethyst about Hermione, which can be found in Goldy's livejournal. It's an interesting rationalization of Hermione's behavior in HBP that brings hope to the world.

It's also tome_raider's birthday today (July 20th), so here's my birthday present to you; thanks for all the wonderful recs!

And while this story may contain spoilers for HBP, they're likely not that big since I haven't read the book past Chapter Three yet. As such, I take some dramatic license with the plot, such as the fact that they're all in school again. Let's pretend that Harry et. al defeated Voldemort over the summer, the school reopened (I did skip to the last chapter), and everyone's back for classes.

Mission of Mercy

“If that's what you think, then just forget it!” Hermione yelled from the bottom of the stairs that led to the girls' dormitory

“Fine, be that way!” Ron shouted back from across the room.

“Fine!” Hermione screamed back, my head swiveling back and forth between them. It was like watching a tennis match, though much louder but nearly as exhausting.

“Fine!” Ron retorted in that clever manner of his.

All eyes in the Common Room shifted back to Hermione, wondering if we would get another cycle of “Fine!” or if there'd be something new. But to our surprise, she…well…the best way to describe it was that she roared, and stomped up the stairs. We all turned to see Ron's reaction. He stared after Hermione for a second, made a weird “Argh! Ragh!” noise, and then left the Common Room, slamming the portrait behind him.

I took off my glasses and put them on the table, where only minutes before I was doing my homework with my two best friends in a sea of tranquility. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, trying to exorcise the stress from my skull. You'd think that after having witnessed countless of these arguments, I'd've become numb to them, but since last year, they seemed to have taken a harsher, angrier tone. I sighed heavily and picked up my glasses, only to find myself surrounded by Gryffindors.

“Gah!” I yelped, nearly falling backwards from my chair. I would've too, if not for the fact that Seamus was directly behind me. “What the…?”

“Listen Harry, you have to do something,” Neville said.

“Please Harry, you're the only one!” Lavender wailed.

“You have to help us!”

“It's driving me crazy! I don't think I can stand any more of it!” Ginny cried, pulling at her hair.

“If it goes on much longer, I may kill myself!” moaned Natalie.

I looked around at all the concerned faces, a feeling of dread welling inside. “Okay, okay, calm down,” I said. “What's going on?”

“It's Ron and Hermione! You have to make them stop fighting!”

“Okay, no prob - er, what?” I looked at them curiously. This was not the life-threatening situation I had anticipating.

“Their arguing is too much. Every day, they're yelling and yelling and...and...” Pavarti choked back sobs but was unable to continue, finding refuge in Dean's arms.

“There there, there there, it'll be okay,” Lavender said while gently patting Pavarti's back.

I looked around in disbelief. “Is this some kind of joke?”

They all looked at one another. Then Ginny said, “Harry, you just don't see it. You're too close to it, too used to it. But for the rest of us, their constant arguing and the tension…it's just so…” Ginny broke off, also unable to continue. Neville put his arms around her, and she wept silently.

“But…but…” I just couldn't understand why this was such a big deal. “They've always been fighting, ever since first year!”

Seamus shook his head. “It's different Harry. Somehow it's gotten worse.”

I couldn't argue with that, and I admit that what I used to think was amusing was now tedious, but I had no idea it was affecting everyone else like this. “And…you want me to fix it?”

All heads nodded in unison.

“How?”

“Just talk them Harry, you're good at that,” Pavarti sniffed.

“Good at that? Good at talking? Exactly which Harry do you think you're talking to?” But no one responded to my clever wit, and they all looked at me with such, `help me Harry, you're my only hope' expressions. I sighed. “Fine. But I can't promise miracles.”

A loud cheer erupted from the Common Room.

Once all the pats on the back and handshakes were over, I picked up my quill, intending to finish my homework. As I put the point of the quill on the parchment, I realized that the entire room was eerily silent. I looked up, to find everyone looking at me expectantly.

“What? Now?”

They just continued to stare. With a loud sigh, I stood up and left on a mission of mercy.

*********

Since I couldn't talk to Hermione while she was in the girls' dormitory, my first step was to talk to Ron. And since the deepest conversation I'd ever had with Ron was consoling him the time his acne was so powerful that it resisted magic, I knew this wouldn't be easy. I found Ron in one of the new practice rooms, where he was Reducto'ing everything in sight.

“Ron! Ron!” I shouted over the din of exploding wood.

Ron spun around angrily, his wand pointed at my chest. “What!”

I raised an eyebrow, and slowly pushed his wand tip aside. “Easy there.”

Ron looked embarrassed. “Ah, yeah, sorry about that Harry. You surprised me, is all,” he said as he pocketed his wand.

I looked around at the room, full of splintered wood, torn cushions, and feathers slowly drifting to the floor. “I like what you've done with the place.”

Ron chuckled. “Thanks. I had some aggression I had to release.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

I was sifting my foot through a pile of rubbish when Ron said, “Er, Harry? Not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?”

I sighed, unable to put this off any longer. I looked at him. “What's up with you and Hermione?”

Ron's eyebrows shot up in surprise, no doubt because I've never been this direct with him before. “What do you mean,” he said eventually.

“You know what I mean: the constant fighting is what I mean. The loud, constant fighting.”

“What are you talking about? Me `n Hermione have always fought.”

“Yeah, but not like this. Not so…vehemently.”

“Not so what?” asked Ron.

“Strongly, with such anger. Before, you guys just bickered. Now you're fighting, and both of you are saying really mean things to each other.”

Ron opened his mouth, and I thought he was going to object. He probably was, but then he just slumped into the one chair that wasn't kindling. I conjured one up for myself and sat down next to him. “You're right,” he said.

“I am? I mean, of course I am.” I didn't think it would be this easy.

“Yeah, I don't know what it is. I mean, when we've fought in the past, it's usually my fault. I had fun pushing her buttons. But now…”

“Yeah?” I said encouragingly.

“I dunno. It's like now Hermione's the one who starts things. And she knows exactly what to say to get my blood boiling.”

I thought about that for a minute, and I realized that Ron was actually perceptive for once: Hermione had started the majority of the fights lately, and over such small, petty things. I was at a loss of what to do next; I had assumed that this was Ron's fault (as it almost always is), so I really didn't know where to go from here. “Well,” I said hesitantly, “maybe you fight with her because you fancy her?” It was suspicion I'd had for a long time, but it was always a taboo subject between us.

“What?” Ron demanded, looking indignant. “You think I'm the type of guy who fights and teases a girl he fancies, rather than sit her down and have a long, heartfelt discussion about it?”

I stared at Ron for a minute, who looked mightily insulted, before I burst into laughter. “Whoa,” I said, catching my breath. “Good one.”

Ron wiped at his eyes, having crumbled into laughter a split second after I did. “Thanks, I thought I had you for a second.”

I shook my head. “Nope, known you too long for that.” We both took deep breaths to calm down. “But seriously,” I said.

“All right, all right. I admit that at one point I did fancy her,” he said, blushing. “But that was a long time ago.”

“A `long' time ago?”

“Okay fine, maybe not so long…but honestly, that's in the past.”

“Really?” I asked doubtfully.

“Yes, really. I did a little soul-searching, and thought long and hard about what a relationship with Hermione would mean. I pictured what life would be like, how our lives would evolve over time and the way in which we would interact, support, and possibly love each other. I tired to put myself in her shoes, to see how she would react to me. And finally, after months of examining my own feelings and hers, I realized that we just don't have enough in common to build a rich, lasting relationship upon.”

I quirked an eyebrow, and Ron raised his hands in surrender. “Okay fine, the crazy witch was driving me crazy! I mean honestly, can you imagine living the rest of your life with a girl like that?”

Although I could, I decided not to answer the obviously rhetorical question. “Then, do you promise to be nice from now on?”

“She starts it!” he said, sounding more like the mature Ron that I know.

“Okay, but if I convince her to lay off, will you?”

“Of course.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good,” I said, “because if you don't, then I will have to beat the crap out of you.”

Ron waved his hands in front of him. “Oooohhh, I'm scared. You do realize that you're six inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter than me, right?”

“True,” I allowed, “but you're not the one with the fancy nickname.”

“Oh right,” Ron said. “The Boy-Who-Lived. Strikes fear into my heart, it does. What say I get a similar nickname? You can call me the Boy-Who-Is-Tall. Or The Boy-with-Red-Hair!”

I couldn't help but laugh. “Git.”

“Prat.”

“Let's get out of here. The feathers are starting to affect my allergies.”

“Oh right,” Ron said as we left the room. “Yet another reason to fear you, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived-With-Allergies!”

“Shut it!” I said, chuckling. But as we made our way back to the Common Room, I grew apprehensive. I knew that talking to Hermione wasn't going to be nearly as easy.

*********

A/N: one more chapter to go, which will incorporate the stuff from Amethyst's post. Funny, I have three in-progress stories that are all awaiting their final chapters.

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2. II

Author's note: I've finished HBP, and I have some thoughts in the end notes (which are 1/5th of this entire post).

Chapter II

Ron and I were chuckling about something as we entered the Common Room, but upon spotting an annoyed Hermione, all laughter died as if a Dementor had swept down upon us. Ron and I exchanged nervous looks before approaching Hermione at the table.

“Hi Hermione,” I said cautiously.

She spared us another glance before returning her attention to her book. “So,” she said curtly, “looks like you two are having a good time.” Even though I couldn't see her expression, I knew with high probability that she had a scowl on her face.

“No…not really,” I said. “Do you think we can talk, Hermione? In private?”

“What? Why?” she demanded suddenly, looking foul-tempered and suspicious. “Have you and Ron plotted something behind my back?”

“Of course not!”

“Yeah, right,” she said. “Ron spreading lies to get you on his side?”

“I wouldn't do something like that,” Ron protested.

“Puh-lease!” Hermione said. And then, in a high-pitched whiney voice, she said, “Oh, Harry, it's not my fault! It's all Hermione's fault; you know what a stubborn, insufferable witch she is!”

“I did not say anything of the kind!” Ron said, his voice steadily getting louder. “And I do not sound like that!”

Before Hermione could retort, I jumped in, hoping to forestall another argument. “Easy, easy, let's calm down, okay?” I suggested, looking at them both in turn. Then, to Hermione, I said, “Ron didn't sound anything like that at all.” Well, at least not in that high-pitched voice anyways, but I didn't think repeating what Ron really said would be all that helpful at the moment.

“Fine, but I'm sure, no doubt, that you two planned in detail what to say to me, right?”

“No we did not,” I said firmly, mainly because planning wasn't our thing. And then a thought occurred to me. “And besides, what's wrong if we did? You two used to always plan what to say to me in advance!”

Hermione look scandalized. “What? When? Never!”

“Hah!” I said, a little too loudly. Then I began ticking points off my fingers. “How about the time in third year after we heard that Sirius betrayed my parents? Or the first time we saw each other in fifth year? Or the first time in sixth year? Or-”

“That's different! We were afraid of how you would react!”

I gave her a pointed look.

“What? I'm completely emotionally stable and rational right now!”

I was about to say that I wasn't suggesting that she wasn't, but then… “Wait a second, are you saying that I wasn't emotionally stable?!”

“Of course not,” she said, but was unable to meet my eyes. “What I meant was-”

I shook my head- this wasn't getting us anywhere. “Forget it,” I said, frustrated. “All I want to do is talk to you alone.”

“And why is that?” she asked warily. “Oh, that's right, you and Ron have talked behind my back about-”

And by this time I'd had enough. We could go around and around arguing, and nothing would ever get accomplished. So, throwing caution to the wind (as I'm often inclined to do), I grabbed my wand, pointed it at Hermione, and muttered, “Silenco.”

Hermione continued ranting for at least two full seconds until she realized what I had done, and then she stared at me in disbelief, completely speechless (although she really didn't have a choice on the latter). Then she got really angry and started yelling at me; or, at least, I think she was yelling at me based on how worked up she was getting.

“C'mon,” I said, standing and tugging at her arm. “Let's go somewhere where we can talk, okay?” I started pulling at her arm, and after much effort I got her to her feet, but she was very hard to budge. “Hermione, please,” I pleaded.

She jerked her hand out of grasp and pulled out her own wand. But before she could either dispel my silencing spell or hex me, I grabbed her arm and took her wand. She looked furious, and as she started another noiseless rant, motioning rather emphatically with her hands (and not all the motions were polite), I pointed my wand at her and cast a levitation spell. It was now much easier to drag her along, and the other Gryffindors quickly scattered as we headed towards the portrait hole. Waving my wand again, I opened the door and pulled Hermione into the corridor. By this time, probably realizing that she couldn't do much to stop me without using physical force (e.g., kicking me), she just stood there angrily, her arms crossed as I gently guided her through the hallways until I found an empty classroom. I maneuvered her to one side and then went to the other side of the room before tossing over her wand.

She glared at me as she picked it up (actually, I don't think she ever stopped glaring at me), pointed it at me for a minute, and then finally pointed it at herself and cancelled my two spells.

After a tense moment of silence, she said slowly, “Harry, I should hex you into oblivion for that.”

“True,” I conceded, “but it was the only way to get you here.”

She crossed her arms and sat in a chair. “Fine. What do you want, then?”

I chose not to sit; easier that way to dodge a curse. “I just want to talk to you about all the fighting between you and Ron.”

“Right, and I assume you've already spoken to Ron?”

I nodded.

“And what did he say?”

I took a deep breath; I knew that this wouldn't go over well. “He said that he doesn't like all the fighting, but that lately he feels that you've been starting all the fights” - Hermione snorted - “and frankly, after thinking about it, I do too.”

Hermione stood in a flash, and I unconsciously ducked my head. “Oh, of course you do! You always take his side!” she said in a shrill voice.

“I do not!”

“Sure you do! You were his friend first. You took his side in third year, and in fourth year he was the `thing you'd miss the most' even though I'm the one who stood by you when everyone else thought you'd cheated! I'm just second-best to you, someone to hang out with when Ron's busy or when you need help with studying!”

I stared at her in disbelief. “You can not be serious!” She turned away, arms folded around herself. I took a step forward. “Hermione,” I said gently, “you're talking about things that happened when we were thirteen. And it wasn't a case of him versus you; I was just mad at you because of the broom.”

She didn't respond, but I thought I heard her sniff.

“And maybe,” I said, “maybe you would've been the thing I missed the most had not Victor Krum taken you first.”

She turned around. “Really?”

Actually I wasn't sure about that, but it's definitely a possibility, so I wasn't completely lying when I said, “Yes.”

She looked somewhat mollified, so I continued. “And besides, when was the last time that I ever copied off of you? Not once this year, and hardly ever since fifth year.” I paused, hoping I had her attention. “We've been through far too much over the years, especially this summer, for you to honestly believe that I think you're second best.”

After a moment, she begrudgingly said, “All right, fine,” and sat down again.

“So,” I said hesitantly. “About that fighting…”

She laughed humorlessly. “Right. So he says it's all my fault?”

“No,” I clarified, “but he, and I, have noticed that you start more than your fair share, and we just can't figure out why.” She got that look on face that usually indicated an argument, but then she surprised me by burying her face in hands. I was alarmed. “Wha- what's wrong?” I asked.

She raised her head, and I was a little surprised to see that there were no tears, and instead she was blushing. “Hermione?”

“Oh…it's so embarrassing!”

“Huh?”

“I was just so…angry with him!”

“Well, yeah, obviously…”

“No, not like that. I mean, last year, when he was with Lavender, I was so angry because…because…well, because he's mine! He should know better!”

“He's…yours?” I said in confusion. “Oh! I see. Reminds you of Crookshanks, does he? All that ginger hair that he has, how they both just eat and sleep all day…”

“No Harry,” Hermione said, but with the beginnings of a smile.

“Or…or maybe I'm not the only one who's more fanciable?” I asked suggestively.

“Harry!” she protested, smiling and blushing this time. “It's not like that at all!”

“Then what's it like?”

She sighed. “As I said, it's so embarrassing…but Ron, well…Ron was always my backup,” she said, avoiding my eyes.

“Your what?”

“My backup, Harry. Look, I've always known that he had a…thing for me since fourth year. So I figured that, years from now, if I hadn't found anyone, then…we…”

“Then what?” I asked, as the little puffskien spun the treadmill in my head. “That if you hadn't found anyone, then you'd always have Ron to fall back on?”

“Well,” she said, fidgeting with her robes, “I never actually thought it through, but…but yes! I was counting on Ron to be there!”

“As a last resort.” I clarified.

“Yes, as a last resort. And then he nerve to go out with Lavender and ruin it all!” She sounded very indignant for reasons I couldn't fathom, clearly upset that Ron didn't follow along with her plan.

I stammered for a second until I was able to ask the obvious question: “But…why do you even need a backup?”

She looked up sharply. “I don't expect you to understand.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Mr. Saviour-of-the-World, that you won't ever have a problem finding someone. You don't need a backup.”

I boggled. “What? And you think you will?” I asked incredulously. When she looked away and didn't respond, I realized that that was exactly what she thought. “Hermione…”I began, my voice as gentle as I could make it.

“No,” she said quickly. “I don't need your pity.”

“It's not pity,” I said. “It's just that…” Talking about feelings has never been a strong suit, so I struggled mightily to find the words that would make her feel better.

“Just…just don't, okay?” she said. “I'm not stupid. I know what I'm like. `Insufferable know-it-all,' they call me. `Bushy-haired bookworm.'”

“Hermione-”

“Harry, look at me!” Hermione said exasperated. “I'm not pretty like Lavender or Pavarti. I'm not fun or sporty or outgoing as Ginny. I'm plain, naggy old Hermione Granger who likes studying and books and following the rules! Honestly, can you imagine living out the rest of your life with me?”

I thought it strange that I get asked that question twice in the same day. And I have to admit that even though I always thought that Hermione's pretty, and even though we've been friends for years, I've never - ever - thought about what it'd be like to be with her. But now, like before, with the question posed to me, for some reason I didn't even have to think about my answer.

“Yes, I can,” I said without hesitation.

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she started at me with undisguised disbelief. I went over to her and kneeled at her feet, taking her hands in my own. “Yes, you're bossy, a know-it-all, and can be a bit of a nag. But you're also kind, compassionate, driven, brilliant, warm, loving, exceptional, amazing, and - believe it or not - you are pretty. Can I picture myself being with you in a hundred years, sitting side-by-side on some porch swing somewhere, complaining about `kids these days'? Definitely. In fact,” I said, realization setting in as I talked, “I can't imagine my life without you next to me.”

Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes got watery. “Harry,” said whispered, “what are saying?”

“I, um…I'm not exactly sure, to be honest,” I admitted. While I believed everything I just said, I hadn't had the time to think about this in the larger context of life, love, marriage, and family. “I guess what I'm saying is, would you like to go on a date to Hogsmeade with me?”

Hermione laughed. “Harry, the next Hogsmeade visit isn't for three months.”

“Oh,” I said lamely, heat rising to my face.

Hermione leaded forward and smiled. “But, I wouldn't be opposed to a long walk around the lake.”

I grinned. “I think that will just do just fine.”

She took my offered hand, and together we headed out for the lake. Oh, and I'm happy to report that Ron and Hermione have since gotten along much better.

.

A/N: All done. Sorry there's no kissing or a declaration of `I love you' or two, but with three fics at their last chapters, I just couldn't put it in all of them. Hope you enjoyed regardless.

Okay, so I've read HBP with a clear head, knowing what JKR has said and knowing what's to come, and I have to say: I like HBP! Though there were definitely slow parts (pensieve visits), I thought it was great.

BUT, the only reason I enjoyed it so much was because, with the exception of Sirius' death, the existence of the Order, and the prophecy, I have ignored OotP completely - all of the H/Hr interacts are wiped clean from my memory while reading HBP.

So keeping that in mind, yes, I can buy the R/Hr relationship and I can believe that they've always liked each other and -

No, damnit! You just can't freakin' ignore a 600 page book! Hermione didn't give Ron the time of day in OotP! There was no jealousy, no clues, there was nothing in OotP to suggest that Hermione fancies Ron! She couldn't care any less about Ron's Quidditch career, she even left at the beginning of his big match to follow Harry without any hesitation, but all of sudden she's hexing the competition? Huh?? That book was 100% Harry and Hermione! You remove Ron from the entire book, and nothing changes! I can not understand how -

Whoops, sorry there. Deep breath. Must ignore OotP…must ignore OotP…

Here's another shocker: I don't think Hermione is OOC at all (ignore OotP…ignore OotP), but keep in mind I did write Happy Endings are Hard to Find. In my opinion, she pretty much acts as any hurt, insecure teenager with crush would act. And I don't see her as nagging any more than usual, because I see it based more in Hermione's insistence on doing what is “right” (not looking at the HBP's book) and not taking the easy way (“no shortcuts or cheats,” she says), and the fact that Harry's higher scores no doubt riles her. Plus, she got an “E” in her DADA OWLS (can someone explain that one to me??), so she's probably really insecure that she didn't get an “O” like Harry, especially considering she helped found the DA.

Oh, and the whole thing about Hermione going with McLaggen to the party? Totally blown out of proportion. She was only using him to make Ron jealous (ignore OotP…ignore OotP) and tried to get away from him when he got grabby. Again, acting like a scorned teenager. The canary attack? Totally understandable given that she invited Ron and he proceeds to snog Lavender (ignore OotP…ignore OotP), which, considering that she doesn't know that he thinks she kissed Krum, is a bewildering and hurtful turn of events. Oh, and her kiss with Krum? Just because Ginny says it happens doesn't mean it did.

The only part I didn't buy was that everyone refused to take Harry seriously about Draco. You'd think that after everything that's happened, Harry would be entitled to have the benefit of the doubt. But then again, that seemed to support the theme of book 6, which is that Harry's basically doing everything on his own; unlike in previous books, did Ron and Hermione do anything constructive or remotely helpful at all?

So, in sum, as long as I ignore OotP, I can buy R/Hr, and I don't think Hermione is OOC. And even considering OotP, the ending of book six kept me on the edge of my seat, and I can't wait for book 7 (though I'm a little disappointed with `the Quest of the Horcruxes plotline' - having to find and destroy the horcruxes and then kill Voldemort sounds too much like a video game to me).

Did I mention that I need to ignore OotP?

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