Disclaimer: Everything concerning Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing, nor is this done for any purpose except my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of anyone reading this. There is no attempt to make any profit.
The Most Ancient Magic
Chapter Thirteen: Mending Bridges
The Gryffindor team filed into the common room tired from the day's training. Everyone looked up as they entered. The first match was next Saturday against Slytherin and the excitement that heralded that rivalry was beginning.
The first thing Ron noticed was Hermione sitting by the fire in her favorite chair. She was chatting with Neville.
As the evening wore on Ron was trying to catch up on his reading, stealing glances at Hermione. She kept watching the entrance to the common room as she continued talking with Neville and Ginny, who had joined the conversation. It was obvious that Hermione was waiting for something.
Ron became aware of an odd noise in the hall. An irregular clunk as wood met stone. Hermione stiffened clutching Neville's wrist as the portrait swung open. Harry and Professor McGonagall entered as a stunned silence fell over the common room.
Harry was looking tired as he stood there, staff in one hand, his Firebolt in the other. He was out of breath from the exertion.
"Hi, Harry, how are you?" said Hermione, breaking the silence. Ron thought that something awful was going to happen judging from the expression on her face. She seemed unable or unwilling to move.
Ginny went up to him. "Do you want to come sit down, Harry?" she said taking his arm.
Harry nodded as Professor McGonagall conjured a tall stool for Harry near the fire. Harry slowly moved toward the stool, it looked as if he were walking underwater. Remembering Professor Dumbledore's words the Gryffindors waited patiently, looking at one another.
Harry sat down, leaned his staff against the hearth. He sighed, as if trying to put off something unpleasant for as long as possible. Then he slowly pulled a letter from a pocket in his robe. He looked down at his feet as he held the letter out to Katie Bell. "Here Katie, I'm resigning from the team." The pain in his voice was evident to all in the room. No one protested, the reason he was resigning was obvious from the way he walked, but it wasn't right somehow. "I'm sorry I let the team down. I just can't play now. It's not fair for me to keep my place when you need to have someone who can do something."
Hermione buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried silently. Neville tried to comfort her. Professor McGonagall went to stand by her. "I know it's hard, Miss Granger, but try to be strong, Harry needs you."
Hermione looked up at Professor McGonagall, "I know, but this is tearing his heart out. It just seems that everything he loves is being taken away from him. I don't know how much more he can take before-I just don't want him to be like he was last year."
Katie had quickly crossed to Harry and had given him a hug. Tears were coursing down her face "It's not your fault, Harry. You didn't ask for this…you haven't let us down. We hope you get better. Maybe you can play again next year," she added hopefully.
"Maybe," Harry responded. He looked around the common room until he found, "Ron?"
Oh no. He can't. I can't. Harry please don't…Oh please no. Ron got to his feet. From the look on his face someone might think Harry had kicked him in the stomach rather than just saying his name.
"Please…?" Harry's green eyes were pleading with him. Harry held out the Firebolt.
Ron walked to Harry as if hypnotized. Harry spoke quietly so only Ron could hear, "If it makes you feel better, I'm not giving it to you. You know who it's from." Ron nodded. "I'd just like it if you got first crack at it. If, as a team, you feel someone would get better use from it, well, that's a team decision. Please, it's too good a broom to gather dust." Harry looked down at his feet. "If I can't use it, I'd like for my best friend to be able to,"
he whispered.
Ron was shocked. He had been avoiding Harry for weeks, but Harry still considered him his best friend. After what he had been thinking this past week he felt really ashamed. His hand trembled as he took the Firebolt from Harry, "Thanks…mate." He tried to smile.
Harry managed a small smile, "Use it well, my friend. And…uh…I expect it back in the same condition I lent it to you, or I'll hex you clean into next week."
"Oh? You haven't got that much power," Ron sniped back weakly.
"Then, I'll beat you about your head and shoulders with my staff," Harry tried to look serious but couldn't help a small laugh.
"You've got me there, Harry," Ron grinned too. "I surrender. I'll bring it by after practice so you can inspect and service it."
By the fire, Hermione started breathing again, "Professor," she whispered, "he laughed, isn't it great."
Several of his classmates came to talk briefly, most found it awkward as they did not know what to say, most just wished him a quick recovery and promised to visit. After about thirty minutes Harry wished them all a good night and left with Professor McGonagall.
After they left most of them began bombarding Hermione with questions about what was wrong with Harry. "Master Healer Galen isn't sure," was all she could tell them, "they don't even know if he will even get better. They're trying everything they think will help."
The team was gathered around Ron. "Did he give you his Firebolt?" asked Ginny?
"No, he just lent it to me…well, to the team. He hoped I could use it first. He said that if someone else could use it better, that it would be a team decision." Ron took the Firebolt up to the dormitory.
Later that evening Ron, unable to sleep, headed down to the common room. The fire had burned low. He sat there feeling miserable. "…I'd like for my best friend to be able to," echoed through his mind. Unable to sit still he walked out of the common room.
Since he was a prefect he didn't need to hide as Harry had to. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do all he knew was that he had to do something.
He was never sure how he wound up before the door of the Room of Requirement. "I wish I knew what to do," he said to no one. When he entered he was met by soft, green light. A large fountain filled the room with the soothing sound of falling water. The misery in his heart overwhelmed him. Sinking to his knees at the base of the fountain he took his father's advice, he began to weep. How long he knelt there he didn't know, but at last his tears ran out. He did feel better, but was no closer to deciding what to do. He started in surprise, Hermione was standing beside him.
"What's the matter, Ron?" asked Hermione coolly.
"I told you, Hermione, I love you." He was puzzled because he had not heard the door open.
"You said you fancied me, if I remember correctly. Have you forgotten what I told you in the village."
"No, but I want you to love me," Ron said plaintively, "instead you told Harry you love him. I was so angry I hoped Harry would go ahead and die. I wanted you to hurt like you hurt me."
"You didn't care that I was hurting? My tears meant nothing to you," she accused softly.
Ron hung his head, "A small part of me hurt with you, most of me was angry at you."
"And now," Hermione pressed.
"Now, after all this, after snubbing and ignoring him, Harry told me I was still his best friend, you saw him lend me his Firebolt," Ron's tears were threatening again.
"So you feel-,"
"Guilty because of the way I treated Harry, jealous of you and Harry, and unworthy of all the attention."
"First, Ron, you deserve the attention because of what you did. You really were great." Hermione's voice was gentle with gratitude. "Second, I'm sorry about your jealousy, but you are the only one who can do something about that." Hermione continued, "Last, you can either confess your guilt and seek forgiveness or else you can live with it, that's your choice too. But you knew this all along, didn't you?"
"Yes," he looked up, but Hermione had vanished.
Gathering himself together, Ron left the room and started back toward the common room.
"Patrolling, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron whirled around, Professor Dumbledore ambled up to him.
"No, Professor, I was trying to decide what to do about a personal matter."
"Ahh, Yes, the Room of Requirement can sometimes provide a unique kind of clarity, can it not?"
"Yes, Sir," smiled Ron ruefully.
"However, be careful about whom you tell about this, the lessons learned here are not always kindly taught."
"Good night, Professor. I'll remember." With that Ron returned to the common room.
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Monday evening, after Quidditch practice Ron made his way to Harry's quarters. He brought the Firebolt, as promised. Harry was practicing some kind of exercise, his eyes were closed in concentration. Ron waited until Harry was finished.
"I brought you your broom so you could service it."
"Thanks, Ron," began Harry, "how did practice go?"
"Ok, flying your broom was amazing. It's almost like it reads your mind. You can beat me now…please."
"Why, it's in perfect shape?"
Ron looked down at his feet, "For behaving like a prat. I've been jealous of you and Hermione. I've been angry with you two since the day I met you in Diagon Alley-,"
"Ron, I know. You made that clear the night we got back to Hogwarts," interrupted Harry quietly.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW BAD IT IS!" Ron burst out. "That Saturday, you were laying there unconscious, and I hoped you'd go ahead and die so Hermione might turn to me. Now I know she never will and I just can't let it go." Tears started in his eyes as he continued more quietly. "I brought you your homework but I just sat there, I didn't care about you. I just visited with my folks. Then you…you said I was your best friend, Harry, this is tearing me apart."
There was a loud noise as something hit the floor. The boys turned to the door. Hermione, a look of stunned disbelief on her face, had dropped the bags she had been carrying. Books and knitting supplies had scattered over the floor.
"Ron!" exclaimed Ginny.
Ron took a couple of steps toward Hermione. She backed away from him, into Harry's bed and sat down hard. "Ron? You…You really wanted Harry to die?" her voice sounded shocked, "Then why did you help us?"
"It wasn't then, it was later when you-,"
Realizing what Ron was about to say, Hermione groaned. "DON'T,RON…please don't…please," she begged.
Harry looked at Ginny. Ginny shrugged and shook her head.
"Hermione, Ron came to say he was sorry." Harry began. "Ron, the reason Hermione is upset is because she knows something you don't." Harry sighed, "First, Ron, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he apologized. "Anyway, it has to do with the prophecy. I heard it after the battle in the Ministry, I was trying to protect you, I thought that if you didn't know the reasons why I was doing what I was doing, you might not be tempted to follow me to where you might get hurt. That was wrong, my friends need to be able to decide for themselves."
Harry gathered his thoughts, "Everyone thinks that You-Know-Who was after my parents, he wasn't, he was after me. The prophecy says I am the one with the power to vanquish him. In order for me to live I must kill him, if he is going to live he must kill me. If I die then he wins."
Ron and Ginny stared at one another.
"You need to keep that to yourselves, You-Know-Who still wants to know what the prophecy says. He only knows a part of it. If he finds out you know anything he will come after you to get what you know."
"Wow, Harry, I don't know what to say," Ron shook his head.
"Then just keep quiet, Ron," said Harry in Hermione's usual matter-of-fact tone. Both Ginny and Hermione giggled.
"Second, I know what jealousy is like. I said some pretty awful things last year when I got to Number Twelve, and I know how I felt when I was passed over to be prefect, I thought some pretty cruel things too. I forgive you, Ron, if you can forgive me." Harry held out his hand.
Ron nodded and took Harry's hand. "Why didn't he make you prefect? I never expected it to be me."
Ginny scowled at her brother, "Ron! Don't you think that's rather personal?"
"It's ok, Ginny. Professor Dumbledore felt that between You-Know-Who trying to get inside my head, grieving for Cedric, OWLs, and the Ministry trying to interfere at Hogwarts, I had enough to be getting along with. He felt the responsibilities of being a prefect would have been too much."
Ron nodded, absentmindedly fingering his badge.
Ginny was watching Hermione, "Come on, Ron, they need to talk. See you back in the common room. Good night, Harry."
As they were walking to the common room Ginny asked, "What didn't Hermione want you to tell Harry, Ron?"
"Harry was dying, Ginny, Hermione was pleading with him not to. She…she told him that she loved him. It was kind of amazing he turned around after she did. Later when he was asleep Dumbledore let her kiss him, she kissed him on the lips, and told him again."
"Ohhh," Ginny's mouth dropped open. "So that's what Mum and Dad have been going on about."
"They have?"
"Well not with words so much, just these odd looks and smiles. I'm sorry, Ron, I know you really fancied Hermione. It's just she's been falling for Harry for about three years now. I guess the attack made her realize how deeply she feels for him."
"Wish I'd seen it. Instead of making a fool of myself."
"Well it's not exactly been a deep, dark secret. Professor McGonagall noticed their friendship from the first, Colin Creevey saw it a couple of years ago then he convinced Rita Skeeter, of course by then you were thinking of her yourself so I guess you didn't want to notice. It bothered Victor Krum too. What are you going to do?"
"Don't know. It still hurts too much."
Ginny hugged her brother, "I really am sorry, Ron. I wish I could help you feel better."
Ron shrugged and headed toward the dormitory.
"Ron?" called Ginny. He stopped as she walked up to him. "What about Luna Lovegood? She likes you, you know."
Ron looked puzzled, "Luna? Don't you think she's, well, mental?"
"I think it's all an act. Her mother died, you know. I think she's trying not to let anyone get too close, so she won't get hurt again." She left Ron looking rather thoughtful.
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"What's with the You-Know-Who stuff?" asked Hermione. She and Harry were sitting in the chairs before the small fire place. They were taking the skeins of yarn and rolling them into balls.
"I didn't want them flinching every time I used Voldemort's name, I wanted them to hear what I was saying."
Hermione nodded.
"What were you trying to stop Ron from telling me?"
Hermione took a few moments to gather her thoughts. "I sort of went to pieces when you were hit by that curse, Harry." She was looking down at her shoes with a far away look in her eyes. "I remembered the prophecy and I thought it was all over, Ron said he couldn't find your pulse. Luna said that dead people don't bleed, but I just couldn't comprehend what she was telling me. Then Hagrid came and took you away, I couldn't bear to be separated from you. I tripped trying to catch him. I saw your blood on my hands and I fainted." Hermione looked deeply ashamed, "Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey were afraid that the shock might cause me permanent injury. That's why they sent for my parents." A stray tear fell down her cheek.
Harry put down his yarn, stood, and pulled Hermione into a tender hug. She melted against him, returning his hug. "Please," she asked, "don't make me think about it any more. I'd like to put that part of the day behind me and just remember the good parts."
Harry thought she was looking at his lips. She broke away from him and sat down again. He sat down and picked up the yarn. It seemed she was breathing slightly faster.
"What do you want to learn first, Harry?"
"Socks, human sized ones,"
Hermione cast a puzzled looked at him.
"They're for Professor Dumbledore. He once told me he never gets warm socks for Christmas, I thought I'd make him some," smiled Harry.
Hermione was explaining how to do knit and purl stitches when there came a soft knock on the half open door. "May I come in, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.
"Yes, Sir."
"I'm glad you are here, Miss Granger. I came to began Harry's Occlumency lessons, I should like for you to learn as well."
"Why, Professor?"
"Did you tell any one about your date with Harry?"
"Not until that morning. Parvati and Lavander were curious when I did my hair so I told them, but I didn't tell them where we were going."
"Did you spend a great deal of time thinking about it?" Asked Dumbledore with a wry smile.
Hermione blushed slightly, "Not what I would call a great deal, but some, I had to order the hair potion."
Dumbledore nodded. "Then it is possible that one of the students is learning Legilimency, and used it to gain knowledge of your plans. The Death Eaters seemed to know when and where to attack you. We don't know for certain, but it might be wise to take steps it so that won't happen again."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other. It was a disturbing thought that some student's family might be in league with the Dark Lord. They put away their knitting and began the task of learning to close their minds.