Author's note: Well folks, maybe my muse is back! Maybe I'm just back from hiatus. This story seems to be getting itself written pretty damn quickly so far. Or maybe it's just the hellraiser in me, subbing in for my muse, wanting to give a big 'screw you' to every R/Hr shipper out there who's wearing a stupid smug grin on his/her face.
Hermione awoke to a small sliver of sunlight poking through the curtain, illuminating the entirety of the inside of the bed. She smiled as she remembered the night before. Ron had been kind, gentle, understanding, all of the things he hadn't been before. He had really grown up a lot in the past couple of months. She looked up at Ron's face and, reaching up, stroked his cheek softly.
"Good morning, sleepy-head," she said softly.
"Mmmmmm…g'morning," he mumbled softly, his eyes opening, and a grin spreading across his entire face.
"How're you feeling?" Hermione crossed her arms over Ron's chest and leaned her chin on top.
"Amazing." Ron stroked her hair softly. "How about you?"
"Wonderful," she said with a big grin. "I really want to thank you for last night," she said softly, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "I'm sorry I…"
"Shhhhhhhhh, don't worry about it," replied Ron. "You're not ready. It's fine. We won't go any faster than you want to go, Hermione. Just being here with you was terrific."
"Thank you, Ron," she said, moving up and giving him a kiss. "I think it's time for us to get up, though."
"I don't know, I'm awfully comfortable right here," he said, drawing an arm around her waist. "Couldn't we just stay here for a few more minutes?"
"Well, okay," she relented. "It's not as if we have class." She rested her head on Ron's shoulder, and looked up, really only registering the sliver of sunlight through the curtains for the first time.
That's odd, I was sure we had closed them all the…Her face fell.
"Oh," she said softly, too much so for Ron to hear. "Oh, no." Hermione felt an ache in her heart.
He saw us, she thought unhappily. He has to think we…oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. She closed her eyes, trying not to think about how much she must have hurt her best friend.
Hermione had known Harry was in love with her for at least as long as, and possibly longer than he had himself known. She had tried to shield him from her relationship with Ron as much as was possible without allowing Ron to know, but she could see the pain in his eyes every time they were together. The smile that he put on for them, telling them he was happy for them only made it worse, because she knew he was torturing himself with guilt for wanting anything other than what was apparently making them both happy.
I wish you would let me help you, she thought, remembering the times they would sit together, just the two of them, while Ron had gone off to various parties, at Hermione's urging. She was there for Harry, she wanted to help him, but she knew he had to initiate it himself, it was his damn pride. She couldn't offer any help, because it would mean admitting she knew how he felt about her, and that would crush him. She accepted his lies about why he was pulling away from them, because to do otherwise would tell him she knew, but she refused to allow him to move too far away.
After a few minutes, Hermione managed to convince Ron that it was time to get up.
"Can I ask you to close your eyes?" Hermione felt herself blushing bright red as she sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.
"Anything for you, Hermione," he said as he put his arm over his eyes and squeezed them shut. "I want you to be comfortable."
"Thanks," She kissed him on the cheek, and pulled her clothes together, pulling them on hastily. "Okay, you can open your eyes now." Ron sat up, and put his arms around Hermione. "Do we really have to get up now?"
"That depends," said Hermione, arching an eyebrow. "Do you want to miss breakfast?"
"Time to get up," said Ron, grabbing his boxers. Hermione laughed and stood up.
"I'll see you downstairs," she said, closing the curtains.
She descended the stairs slowly, knowing full well she'd find Harry on the sofa by the window, trying not to look up the stairs, knowing she would be coming down them. She sighed. Sure enough, Harry was in his usual spot, and as soon as she saw him, he looked away, staring out the window. The bright sunny morning was already starting to fade, clouds beginning to gather almost as if they were congregating for a meeting. They looked rather like stormclouds, too, and Hermione sighed again. She had been hoping for a nice day so they could spend the day out on the grounds. She was more or less sick of parties. She didn't feel much like celebrating, not when her best friend was in so much pain.
She sat down next to Harry on the sofa, shoving everything down below the surface, everything that might give away to Harry what she knew, the action at which she had become so good it made her want to throw up. She was sick of hiding things, but she had to help Harry as best she could, and that meant he couldn't know.
"Morning, Harry," she said tentatively.
"Morning," he said softly, still staring out the window.
"Did you sleep well?" She peered around, trying to get him to make eye contact, but his gaze didn't budge.
"Uh-huh. Didn't want to get up."
"Harry," she said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. She opened the door just the tiniest bit, allowing her voice to fill with concern. "Are you okay?"
"I dunno," he said softly, and she had to slam the door shut again to prevent her eyes from filling with tears. It was her fault he felt like this, and she couldn't even apologize.
Just then, Ron came down the stairs, and approached the sofa.
"I'll be right back," said Hermione softly, and stood up, meeting Ron halfway between the stairs and the sofa.
"What's the matter?" Ron looked over at Harry.
"I don't know," she lied, feeling her stomach twist as she did so. "But I think he needs me, Ron. Can you go down without me? I'm not really hungry anyway."
"I'd like to help," said Ron. "I can skip breakfast if there's anything I can do."
"I don't think so, Ron, but that's really really sweet of you. I think he just needs a shoulder right now."
"Okay, but I want to do something. Maybe I can get him up on a broom later…" Ron looked out the window. "Maybe not." The clouds had already covered the sky, and they looked ready to release at any minute. "I'll find something," he said. "I'll see you after breakfast." He kissed Hermione on the cheek, and headed out the portrait hole.
Hermione hoped Harry hadn't seen Ron kiss her on the cheek. It would only compound his pain. Luckily, it looked as if his gaze hadn't moved since she sat down.
Sitting down next to Harry again, Hermione tucked her feet under her and touched Harry's knee. She decided the direct approach would probably be best.
"Harry, I'm here, I want to help you, please talk to me." Harry turned to her, and she could see turmoil behind his eyes. She had a feeling that she was going to get a glimpse of a depth of Harry that she had not visited for quite a long time.
"Hermione," he began, but paused. She could see indecision painted all over his face. He wasn't even trying to hide the battle going on inside him whether or not to really talk to her.
"Harry, you can tell me. I'm here for you." She put a hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me anything, Harry, really, anything." Her hopes that he would maybe decide to actually tell her everything were dashed when he laughed once, softly, probably thinking it had been too soft for her to hear. "Please, Harry, I want to help you."
"I…" Harry looked her straight in the eyes, and for just an instant, bared his soul to her. She didn't flinch, just reached up and touched his face softly.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she breathed. "I didn't realize you were hurting so badly. Please let me help." It was the truth. In that one instant, Hermione saw all the pain Harry was feeling, and realized she hadn't even come close to understanding how much she had hurt him.
"I don't know where I belong anymore," he said softly. While she knew that was far from the worst of it, she could just tell that he was, in fact, beginning to really open up to her again. "As much as I wanted to fight it, I was the boy who lived. As much as I didn't want to be, that was who I was, that was my purpose, to…to kill Voldemort." Harry's voice shook. Hermione could tell that the fact that he had killed somebody, even somebody as vile as Voldemort, was eating away at Harry. "And now, now he's gone, and I don't have a purpose anymore. I don't even have…I don't have anything."
That wasn't what you were going to say, she thought miserably.
"You'll find where you belong, Harry, I know you will. That wasn't your only purpose. If it was, you wouldn't be here anymore. If you had a purpose, and that was why you were alive, then you must still have one now if you're still alive."
"I suppose," said Harry softly.
"Come here," she whispered, and pulled Harry into a hug.
I wish you would stop being so damn noble and just open up to me. Blow up at me if you have to, just show me something.
"Hermione, I…"
Come on, she pleaded Harry silently. Please, let me in.
"I'll be okay," he said, pulling out of her arms. "I don't want you worrying about me."
"Don't do this, Harry," she said softly. "Don't push me away. I want to be there for you. I want to help you." She felt tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. "Please, Harry."
"I need to sort this out myself, I think," he said, standing up. "I think I'm going to go for a walk."
And with that, he walked across the common room, and through the portrait hole, leaving Hermione alone in the common room, wishing for her best friend back, and not quite sure why she felt quite so sorely rejected.
Author's Other Note: Wow, I can't believe this. Two chapters in one night. But I promised you chapters as I finished them, and I just finished this one. That's it for tonight, though, it's almost four in the morning, and I have class tomorrow. I'd like to thank everybody who has already reviewed, and is actually up at this insane hour of the morning. G'nite all, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter (feelin' a little better now, Flint&Steel?).