Disclaimer: The Potterverse belongs to JK Rowling. 'Nuff said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Ron watched as the sky and the world around him turned from black to pearly grey. The skin on his arms pimpled from the cold of near-dawn and he was shivering in his thin pajamas and short-sleeved shirt, but he didn't think of reaching for one of the blankets piled on the bed.
Inside he was numb. The cold didn't even register.
The thing is, I've always been a bit of an insecure git. Being the sixth and youngest brother in a brood of competitive blokes did that sometimes. There was always someone ahead of you, someone who'd done the deed first and better, thanks.
There was a lot to live up to, and not much left to do that would let Ron distinguish himself. At least that was the way it seemed to him. At Hogwarts, Bill and even that poofter, Percy, had been head boys, while Charlie had made Quidditch captain. So what was left for him? Ron couldn't even match the twins for sheer troublemaking. (Ginny didn't count and anyway, she was the youngest, the only girl and the seventh child. She was special by default.)
Which left him: not particularly bright, not spectacularly athletic, nor very mature Ron Weasley. Famous mainly by association with one Harry Potter, the so-called Boy Who Lived.
So why would Hermione want me? It was probably the crux of his jealousy, this feeling that he was somehow lacking. Take Hermione. However annoying she could be, the girl was undeniably brilliant. Harry or no Harry, the girl would've shone as brightly as the sun. But me? He wasn't like Krum, a world-famous professional Quidditch player at 17. Nor like Harry, who had been, for good or ill, the focus of the wizarding world for some time. What do they see in me?
When they were in their fourth year, he had let that envy take over. But he'd gotten past it eventually, and Harry, for all his moodiness, was quick to forgive.
Then Ron had done it again. This time last year, he'd been an utter prat to Hermione. All because he'd been jealous and Ginny had needled his ego. But Hermione had forgiven him too, and they'd moved on.
... and forward. Ron wasn't much for feelings and stuff, but he was finally ready to acknowledge what everyone else had already guessed. He was interested in the witch of the trio, had been since they were fourteen. She drove him mad. He could hardly believe it when she indicated, not so much with words, that she wanted to give it a try. For once it looked like things were going to work out for one Ronald Bilius Weasley.
Until last night. Until Hermione told him what she'd discovered, and what she might have to do. She got that far before he lost it. Harry, something in him growled. Why the HELL does it always have to be Harry?! He saw red, and he acted on it.
The thing about growing up with someone? You knew which buttons to push. Ron knew exactly how to hurt Hermione. That night, he put the knowledge to use.
"This is what you've wanted all along, isn't it?"
"What?!" she asked in bewilderment. "Ron, of course not, I -"
"Don't you fucking deny it!" His voice rose. "Not when you're here asking for MY permission to shag the Boy-Who-Bleeding-Lived!"
"It's not like that! You know it's not like that," she protested. "We're still looking for other ways, but Harry could die -"
"I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck!" Abruptly he laughed, an ugly sound that echoed between them. "Or is this how you've wanted to play it all along? Huh, Hermione?"
She instinctively backed away as he loomed over her. "I don't understand you."
"Don't you? That's funny, when you're supposed to be so smart," he sneered. "I should've listened to them. To think I wasted all these years trying to defend you from their slurs. What do you know, those Slytherin snakes were right after all ..."
Hermione paled. Suddenly she saw where this was heading. No, he wouldn't! "Don't," she whispered, but she was already bracing herself. "Ron, don't."
It was a plea easily ignored in his fury. "Why shouldn't I, when it's true?" he asked with false sweetness. "Maybe one wizard really isn't enough for a mudblood slut like you."
He followed this slander with an equally unthinkable act. He grabbed her by the arms, and before she could talk or move, harshly ground his lips against hers. It was like no other kiss they'd shared since they'd started. But then, this wasn't really a kiss. It was an act meant to punish.
When he let her go, Hermione stumbled back and sank down on the bed behind her. Her eyes, full of shock, never left his face.
Ron was breathing hard. His eyes widened as they met hers, the red haze dissipating in the face of her obvious pain. He looked at his large hands in bewilderment. Merlin, what've I done? "Hermione -"
"That's the second time." Hermione's voice was barely a whisper.
"Wh-what?"
"That day in the library, you asked me if I liked it. If I liked what Harry did to me." Her eyes welled with tears. "I've kissed you, I kissed Viktor a long time ago. Harry nearly raped me. Is that all it takes to make me a slut in your eyes?"
"No! Hermione, I ..." He reached out towards her, apologetic now, but she shrank back. "Look, I was just angry! You can't expect a bloke to take that kind of thing sitting down," he said defensively.
He expected her to reply with some kind of argument that would rightfully take the wind out of his sails. Instead, all she said was, "I can't do this anymore."
Ron was horrified. "No. No, you can't mean that! I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean any of it!"
She closed her eyes briefly. "You did. The way you kissed me just now," she touched her lips, "like I wasn't anyone that mattered to you. Like I was beneath you. Like I was just a ... mudblood."
He flinched. Of course he didn't! Not for a second! He'd been her friend, her defender for years. So he'd stumbled today. Surely that couldn't wipe out all the times he'd stood up for her. He opened his mouth to deny it.
"Ron, I know you," she said warningly. She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I'm tired. Please leave."
"Hermione," he protested, near tears himself now, "we can't end like this. I - I love you."
He thought it would sway her, and it finally hit him, how thoroughly those few words and that hurtful kiss had ruined things between them, when her only answer was a defeated, "I once thought you did."
He couldn't stand her steady pained gaze. He knew her enough to see that he had wounded her on some fundamental level.
Ron found himself backing off, desperate to escape those desolate brown eyes. Just before he got to the door, he bent his head. "Do what you have to do," he whispered, grasping at the only straw he thought would somehow make things right between them. "Save Harry. I'll show you. I'll come back, and none of it will matter to me." His voice shook as he fumbled the knob behind him and ran away, from her and from what he had done to her.
The redhead buried his face in his hands. Why did I do it? When Hermione had already begged him not to continue? More importantly, Where had those words come from? As angry as he'd been, there had been a moment when he'd hesitated because something in him knew that it would change things irrevocably between them. But in the end the desire to lash out had overridden everything.
He had hurt her before, of course, but those had mostly been because of carelessness and insensitivity. He had never actually set out to hurt Hermione, not when she was one of his best friends, not when he was supposed to love her!
Somewhere inside a voice piped cryptically, 'Oh really? Not counting the whole snogging thing with Lavender?'
Ron flushed. That was more about me, not her.
If you say so.
The boy got up and paced restlessly. I hate it here. From the second he'd set foot in Grimmauld, everything had started going wrong.
He needed to get away and get his bearings back.
Then he remembered. Harry could die.
Ron clenched his fists. Who gives a sod? But images of Harry weakly dragging himself to his feet to receive Ron's drubbing, and Hermione's matter-of-fact voice echoed in his head. If Harry dies, Voldemort wins ... If Voldemort wins, he will come after everyone who stood in his way. You. Me. Your family.
He swore. He couldn't let that happen, could he? Let Harry die, let Hermione and the wizarding world down. Let Hermione live, however briefly, in a world where the insults he'd thrown at her last night would be the least of her worries ...
Whatever else I've done wrong, I've always been a good friend. Always! I'm not letting Bloody-No-Name get his hands on them, even if sometimes I've felt like killing them myself! That was best mate's privilege, and no one else's.
Muttering angrily, Ron drew out his wand and started packing his things. He hoped Tonks wasn't going to hex him for disturbing her this early.
==========
Hermione woke up late the next day, and the first thing that struck her was how much better she felt. It was as if a burden had been lifted.
It was silly, she knew; they were still facing the same problems they had been yesterday. But somehow it felt like they had a real chance now. Because Harry was really with them again. Or maybe it was something as simple as she'd gotten a good night's sleep for the first time since this whole sorry mess had started.
It didn't last, of course. She was stepping out of the shower, towel-drying her hair, when someone knocked.
Sighing, she dropped the towel, and the tune she'd been unconsciously humming, and ran her fingers quickly through her curls. "Come in."
"Wotcher, Hermione." Tonks entered. Her hair was a relatively somber bluish purple today, and she was dressed for traveling in a Weird Sisters' shirt and patched jeans under weatherproof robes. She held out a letter. "This is from Ron," she said simply. "He's coming with us."
The girl flushed. "Thank you. Is he - are you leaving soon?"
"Well I am. He actually left earlier with Moody. We'll meet up in Ireland later. Might attract less attention that way. Should be okay so long as Ron doesn't call Moody Mad-Eye to his face."
Hermione's grin was sheepish. "I wouldn't worry. Poor Ron, he'll probably be too scared to say anything at all."
"Moody does have that effect sometimes," Tonks agreed with a grin. "So ... are you going to tell me what we're after?"
The simple question made the younger witch freeze. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, "but Harry only had permission to tell Ron and me."
The Metamorphmagus gave her a steady look. "Dumbledore?" At the girl's nod, Tonks sighed. "I respect that, but you realize it's going to be difficult, traipsing all over Ireland without any idea of what to look for."
Hermione hesitated. That was true. And we ARE in a race against the Death Eaters. Thinking quickly, she reached for a piece of parchment, spelled it, and scribbled something down. "When you get to Ireland, give this to Ron."
Tonks glanced at the parchment before tucking it into the folds of her robe. An eyebrow rose. "A traveling limerick?"
"That's not what Ron will see." The note told Ron it was okay to describe the objects they were looking for to the Aurors, so long as he didn't reveal what they were. "Hopefully."
Clever girl. Guess this is it then. But Tonks found herself reluctant to leave. The previous conversation between her and Hermione hadn't stopped bothering her. Circumstances had somehow placed her in the role of Hermione's confidant, and although she had never thought of herself as the kind of person to run to for advice, it seemed that that was exactly what was needed here. None of this will matter if the potion we got from Faveure works. But if it doesn't ... I just want to be sure that I've done everything I can. "Hermione, if Faveure's potion fails, are you still thinking about ...?"
The brown-haired witch looked away. "Only if it's necessary ... and if Harry allows it."
"You've spoken to him?" Tonks didn't bother to hide her astonishment.
"After you left last night, I had another dream. I ... called him and we talked. When Harry's there, he's not affected by the Solvamus." Hermione made a face. "He pretty much told me not to get in the way if they clear the potion."
Tonks could almost see what the girl was thinking. But if they don't or if it doesn't work, there's no avoiding the other matter. "Can I ask you a personal question?" At Hermione's cautious nod, the older woman continued, "Have you?"
What? Oh that. The girl blushed and shook her head. "Ron and I, er, but not ..." she stammered, thinking that she was going to die of embarrassment any second now. Speaking of snogging Ron to Tonks of all people! Why didn't the ground open up and swallow her now?
Tonks was a bit embarrassed too, to tell the truth, but she was determined to make her point while she still had the chance. After all, who knew how long Ireland would take? "Then this is going to be that much harder," she pointed out. She hesitated. "Can I make a suggestion? You've never done this before. If it comes to that, you should take your time, build up to it. Get used to ... Harry touching you."
Hermione's eyes widened. But that would mean spending time with Harry, treating him like ... and letting him treat me like - !
"If you can't even stand the thought of him touching you, it's not going to work," the Auror said with brutal frankness. "If you just lie there and take it, it will scare you in the end. It'll be your first and it will all be strange, and it will hurt."
Her voice became gentler. "You deserve so much more, Hermione. Do you understand that? A person's first should be loving, whether or not it works out in the end. Don't let Voldemort and his ilk cheat you out of that," she said firmly. "You said yourself that Harry's feelings are not about lust. If that's the case, then allow this to be about him loving you, and not just the spell. It's the only way -"
"- to save him," Hermione finished. Because I have to be willing else Harry will -
"Oh, you daft -!" Tonks shook her head in exasperation. "That's not the point. All throughout you've made this about him, about saving Harry. But this can't be just about him, Hermione, because it involves you, too. It has to be about both of you."
Her expression softened. "Don't neglect yourself in all of this. You've been very brave. I understand now why Remus has such faith in the three of you, because you obviously care deeply for one another." Enough to do things for each other you would otherwise never do. So Ron goes to Ireland to save his friends, even if he's steamed at them, and Hermione is willing to sacrifice a part of herself to save Harry from death, and Harry would've never been able to stand it if he'd hurt Hermione that night. Snape, that oily bastard, read him so well! "Having seen that, I feel I can say this with some authority: Harry won't appreciate being saved, Hermione, if in the process you get badly hurt. Don't make this harder on yourself than it already is."
"How do I do that?" Hermione asked quietly. "How do I forget what he did to me, or ignore the fact that it could happen again?"
"You don't," was the determined reply. "This isn't like before, when all of us, including Harry, had no idea what was happening to him. This time we'll be careful, and Lupin will watch out for you."
"I never did thank the two of you ..."
"None of that," Tonks insisted. "I only wish we'd gotten here sooner." Something else occurred to her. "You do know that none of it was your fault?"
She knew she'd hit something when Hermione looked away. "Maybe not, but I was stupid, putting myself in that position."
Oh Merlin, she means it. "Just for the sake of argument, what did you do that night that was so stupid?"
Hermione flushed. "I came here alone, and we were drinking."
Tonks sensed that, with Hermione, the best way to handle this was to attack it logically. "Let's have a good look at this 'stupid' situation you put yourself in, shall we? You went here by yourself to work on something with ... a total stranger? A boy you barely knew in school? Some bloke you picked up in a bar?" She paused. "Draco Malfoy?"
That got the expected reaction. "Of course not!" Not in a million years, the girl's expression said.
"So you had dinner and you were starting to get smashed with a friend you've known for years. Was this a friend you'd been alone with before?"
Countless times. Specially during those months when Harry and Ron hadn't been speaking. Hermione nodded. "But ... I knew something was off when I saw Harry in those robes. It bothered me, but I ignored it."
"And you've been beating yourself up for it ever since," Tonks guessed. "Look, it's good for you to learn to trust your instincts," she said seriously, "but in all honesty, if anybody else was in that same situation, would it even occur to you that they were slightly to blame for what happened?"
"No."
"Doesn't make much sense not to apply the same standards to yourself, does it?"
"I ... guess not."
Tonks didn't miss the doubtful tone in her voice. "Can I tell you something? As Aurors go, I'm young and a bit on the clumsy side," she said deprecatingly, "but when you train to be an Auror, among the things they teach you is that there are situations - what you went through, but also muggings, kidnappings and the like - where the victim tends to suffer episodes of self-doubt. There's this tendency to shift the blame from the attacker to yourself - 'If I hadn't done that,' 'If I hadn't gone there,' 'If I hadn't taken a walk that night.' But however you look at it, in the end, it was someone else's decision to attack you, not the other way around."
She held the younger witch's gaze, willing her to accept her next words. "You said no, Hermione. It's not your fault that he didn't listen. None of it was your fault. I'm only glad it didn't get as far as it could have."
There was a moment of silence, and then the girl let out a shaky breath. "Al-alright."
"Good girl." Tonks winced. Bloody hell, I've been reduced to parodying Ron's Great Aunt Tessie. "Well, I guess I'll see you in a week or two then." She grimaced good-naturedly. She turned to leave, but stopped when she heard her name.
Hermione had her head down. "About Harry ... I don't know what to do. We've been through a lot together, and we need him with us if we're going to win this. I ... want to set things right between us. When I spoke to him last night it seemed so easy to do that, but that was the real Harry, the one who's free of the Solvamus. Now though ..."
The purple-haired witch considered the question for a few seconds. "Hermione, you calling Harry into your dream ... did that have anything to do with Harry insisting that he take Faveure's potion?"
She nodded.
"But the Harry who offered to take the potion last night without regard for the consequences is the same Harry who's under the influence of the Solvamus, isn't he?"
Hermione looked at her uncertainly. "Are you saying I should ... trust him?"
"Good Merlin, no!" Tonks exclaimed. "I'm afraid that's something he'll have to earn back. But what I am saying is that IF you're sure this is what you want, if you really want to know how much of Harry is still in there despite Snape's awful drug, maybe you should talk to him. Make sure it's done in a safe place and that you take precautions," she warned, "but face him, Hermione. One way or the other, you're going to have to eventually."
=========
"You're joking!"
Lupin watched the teenager fidget, shoot to his feet, pace the room restlessly, and sink down on the bed again - all in the space of about fifteen seconds. "`Fraid not."
"But I haven't even taken the potion yet!"
"Seems to me you've got enough potions floating around in your bloodstream already," the older man quipped.
"Professor -!" Harry threw him a look that clearly said, You're not helping!
Lupin coughed, hiding a half-grin behind his raised hand. "Sorry. Why so nervous? It's not like you haven't done this before. If I remember right, you've spoken with Hermione already."
That did nothing to assure Harry. "That was different," he muttered," she just walked in." Merlin, the way his heart had leapt! But then, right after, the things he had to tell her, the look on her face. I told her she wasn't safe around me. Why is she doing this? "How can you possibly agree to this? What if I - this is mad!"
"Don't you think it's time to find out? Harry," Lupin admonished gently, "remember what I told you. The potion may not work at all. Don't put so much faith in it. And no, before you ask, they haven't finished testing it yet."
"The more reason we should wait!"
The older man watched his charge closely. He had never seen Harry this nervous before, not even when the boy had been about to face a boggart they both knew could turn into a Death Eater, or worse. Usually Harry had a tendency to rush into things, not the other way around.
And yet, for the life of him, Lupin wished he hadn't caught something else, too - the flash that had come into those green eyes when he had first told Harry that Hermione wanted to see him ... alone.
He had no doubt that the boy's protests were real, his worry genuine, but it was obvious that a large part of Harry wanted this, too. Wanted to see Hermione, wanted to be alone with her. Who knew how far that craving went?
Which is why I'm staying close, the lycanthrope thought grimly, all trace of amusement gone. Tonks and he had both seen how Harry had improved after the treatments with the modified pensieve and the removal of the augmenter, but the problem was they didn't know if it was enough. How much control does he have?
"Professor, you have to postpone this," Harry insisted. "It's a bad idea, can't you see that?"
Privately, Lupin agreed. He had never liked this idea from the first.
But right before she'd left, Tonks had said, "If they really thought something needed doing, do you think we could stop them, Remus? Not all of Hogwarts has been able to do that. They've been facing down Voldemort since they were what - twelve, thirteen? Hermione knows what's at stake. She has a good head on her shoulders, even if she's so much younger than you," she smiled. "Give her a chance. Guide her if you can. She's not above asking for help when she needs it."
"Tonks, you can't expect me to support this," he'd answered. "Of age or not, I'm not going to let a young girl make some loveless sacrifice -"
"She loves him," the Auror had interrupted quietly. She took advantage of his surprise to continue. "Maybe not in the way we're accustomed to thinking about love, but there's a depth to it I doubt any of us jaded adults can understand. Remember, she's been risking her life, and expulsion," she added with a grin, "for Harry since they were tiny first years. And vice-versa."
"Jaded adults?" Lupin remonstrated. "You're just a few years off from them."
"Almost ten. Compared to you, I'm sure that doesn't seem like much," she teased. "Seriously, Remus, there's a bond between them. We've all seen it, and we - including those two - have always called it friendship and left it at that."
"You're saying there's more?"
"The Solvamus' effect on Harry proves that, doesn't it?" she asked. "On his side, at least. I think it's only starting to sink in for Hermione, that there might be more to what she feels for Harry." Tonks noticed how troubled he still was. She took his hand. "Remus, all I'm saying is if they want to explore that, maybe it's better to take a supportive stance. I think Hermione's leery of getting hurt, too, but she knows what's at stake and she's determined to see where this is going. At least this way we offer her some protection. Will you do that, luv? Watch over her, over them both, while I'm gone?"
Lupin's attention shifted and focused on her. "I'm going to miss you," he said gruffly.
Tonks' expression was pure mischief. "`Bout time. I was starting to wonder whether my boyfriend was planning to kiss me goodbye."
He grimaced. Boyfriend indeed! He hadn't been a boy in quite a while. But these days he could be quite as giddy as one. "Come back safely and you can have all the kisses you want," he continued in the same crusty tone, but he was smiling as he embraced her.
"I've no use for future promises," she scoffed, linking her hands around his neck. "Kiss me now, Remus," she demanded teasingly.
"Professor?"
Falling out of his reverie, the older man turned. Harry was regarding him curiously. Completely on impulse, Lupin asked, "Do you love Hermione?"
The effect was startling. The boy flushed, his cheeks turning bright pink. He mumbled.
"Sorry, didn't catch that."
Harry sighed. "I said it's complicated."
Lupin almost laughed. "Yes, it always seems that way, doesn't it? Listen, all I am in this is the messenger, Harry. It's really up to you. Do you want to see Hermione or not?"
Harry tried, he really did. He struggled with himself. Because of all the things in his life that had scared him so far, this prospect of being alone with Hermione easily ranked in the top ten. Which was ironic, because they'd done it before, countless times, and never with a second thought.
But this time was different. If I do anything - anything at all - that will be it. Hermione will never trust me again. I'll lose her for good.
"Will I be safe with you even outside these dreams?" She had asked him that.
Merlin help him, they were both about to find out.
Harry looked up at Lupin. "I'll do it."
I can't lose her.
I won't.
But inside him, the fires leapt.
A/N: I can't believe there are 330 reviews! I'm sorry that at a certain point I couldn't reply to them. That was about the time my computer started going bonkers. That's the only technical term that fits. It didn't crash, exactly, but it was getting there. `Nuff of that. I hope you like this chapter enough to leave a few reviews. =)