Title: I Believed Her
Author: Electric_blue
Rating: NC-17
Chapter Rating: PG
Warnings: M/F, angst, dark themes, character death
Disclaimer: You know I don't own this, why do I even have to put a disclaimer?
Author's Note: Well... it seems to have taken me forever to get to this. This story was probably thought left for dead, or something to that effect. Rather a gloomy fate I should think... Or you should think. We should all think. I'm not sure exactly what it is I am saying, though I am happy to finally present to you all the next installment of this story. I do hope that it conforms to all prior needs and stipulations. The next chapter shall be out much sooner than it took me to write this one!
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed - I sincerely hope you keep reading and enjoying these simple words that I write!
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I Believed Her
Chapter III
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"Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion."
William Shakespeare
I looked around the small studio flat that belonged to a man named Daniel Blake. Having been acclimated to the wizarding world for so long now, it was a bit odd sitting in an apartment that so obviously belonged to a muggle. Car keys hung on a hook by the front door, a telephone on the small table next to the couch (that I was sure doubled as a bed) that I was seated on, framed pictures that remained still. These were things a person would never really see in the apartment of a wizard. I was wondering to myself what train of thought had led me to think that following some odd man whom I had never met in my life to his apartment was okay. Sure, he seemed to know me... but a lot of people knew me, and that didn't necessarily make them friends of mine.
Blake stood against his kitchen counter facing me with his arms folded across his chest. An uncomfortable silence hung heavy around us as I waited for him to say something.
He didn't. He just stared at me with a curious sort of expression on his face as I attempted to pretend I was interested in what color his walls were - or the drawing of the Beatles that hung over his heater. Actually, that was quite good...
"D'you draw that?" I asked, not meeting his eyes, as I gestured toward the drawing. The silence was finally broken, but a sizable amount of awkwardness remained - reminiscent of an uninvited guest who just wasn't taking the hint that no one wanted him there. Blake leaned forward and turned to look at the drawing, then leaned back against the counter again.
"Me?" He asked, then shook his head. "Nah... a buddy of mine back home - he's the artist. It's music for me." He gestured with his thumb back toward the drawing. "Great band though. One of the only good things you people ever did." I raised an eyebrow and looked over at him. Us people?
"My country used to own yours, Mate." I started thickly. "I'd think about that before the next time I decided to mouth off over whose country did what."
Blake stared at me for a few moments looking only mildly amused.
"Sure..." He said as he shook his head. "That's not what I meant, but sure... I was talking about how John was a wizard." I said nothing - my face blank. "Oh, come on. You didn't know that? What else would explain how popular they were? Genius like that doesn't spawn from a muggle mind."
That made an odd sort of sense to me.
"Still doesn't explain why they were one of the only good things we've ever done." I said monotonously - feeling a bit affronted. Wizards, while being eccentric and occasionally evil, were the people who really took me in and gave me the only real home I'd ever known. I couldn't pretend that there hadn't been some very bad things done in the wizarding world, but there had been a lot of good as well. So much good, in fact, that people were willing to sacrifice their lives to protect it. Great people...
And so, I could not help but feel offended. Blake took a deep breath - his face becoming serious.
"If you ask me... nothing good will ever come from magic. Only wars, power struggles, and jealousy. Human kind is better off without it." He shook his head, but said nothing more. I did not pursue the subject as I, begrudgingly, understood his point of view.
"How do you know so much about my world?" I asked - eyeing him with just a bit of suspicion.
"The same way you know so much about mine." He responded with a shrug. "I was raised in a wizarding family - the way you were raised in a muggle one." Which explained a lot, really. Well, it explained why he knew about me, anyway. Actually... that was really all it explained. Perhaps sensing that I was only confusing myself further, Blake went on. "You've heard of psychics, haven't you?" He asked. I shrugged.
"Yeah..."
"Well... that's kind of like what I am. I can do things that usually require magic without using magic. I was given up for adoption as a baby and was adopted by a wizard and his wife. They sensed my magical potential... at least that's what they told me when they I thought I was old enough to understand. Except, well... there was no magical potential. There was only paranormal ability... see what I'm getting at?"
"What kind of things can you do?" I asked - my curiosity getting the better of me.
"I can... see things." He answered a bit evasively.
"What... like dead people?" I cracked. Blake only stared at me blankly for a moment as though he didn't understand the reference, and then waved the comment away dismissively.
"I see peoples' thoughts sometimes... and get visions of-- well, not necessarily of the future, though I get those, too. It's really a variety of things. Sometimes I see things as they're happening... and other times I see things after they've already happened."
"Well, what good does that do?"
"None at all, actually." He responded with out missing a beat. "... Which is why these `visions' are more a curse than a gift. Head splitting migraines that come with pictures."
I wanted to laugh at this, though something inside me wouldn't allow me to. The whole day was proving to be quite a strange one. Dancing condiments, order reprieves, strange seer muggles, going crazy... because, yes, at that point I was relatively certain I had lost my mind at some point that afternoon. Thinking this, I could not help but recall something Hermione had said to me during our second year at Hogwarts...
"Even in the wizarding world, hearing voices isn't a good sign..."
And that's exactly what had happened in the cemetery. I had heard voices. Ron's voice. As I contemplated this more and more it occurred to be how ridiculous that really was. Ron was dead. Gone. It didn't matter how badly I wanted that to be him calling out to me... it just wasn't so. So, really, the idea that I was driving myself mad with grief was the only thing that made sense...
And then there was Hermione. Something had changed in my attitude toward her that morning in the kitchen as she walked away from me... though I could not place what exactly it had been. I just knew that I had to get out of the house and away from her. I couldn't be so close to her and unable to speak to her and tell her I was sorry. She had been so upset... and with good reason. How could I have spoken to her that way when she had done nothing but be there for me? When she had done nothing but put me back together time and time again?
"I don't know where you went just now," Blake said as he waved a hand at me. "But if it's better than this place, can I go with you next time?" I focused my eyes on him and was silent for a moment.
"It wasn't better." I said simply. My thoughts never really were. The strange American man nodded. For some reason, I got the distinct feeling that he knew exactly what I had been thinking, though I didn't exactly understand why. I shook the feeling off and took a deep breath.
"You said you were here to help me." I continued as I stood up. "But so far all I've gotten from you is bored and vaguely insulted. Unless those things qualify as help by your definition, I'd say you've thus far failed in your mission."
Blake merely laughed.
"Okay." He said. I shook my head and let out a sigh as I began toward the door - having nothing more to say to him. I knew that I would think about this later and be bothered by the mystery that was Daniel Blake and just what exactly he meant when he said he was here to help me... but at that moment, I didn't care. Too much had already happened that day and it was barely passed noon. I couldn't take any more hazy ambiguity. I just wanted to go home where I could rest peacefully in Hermione's arms... where she could tell me that everything would sort itself out without ever even speaking a word.
Assuming she'd still be at number 12 when I got there.
"She's still there." Daniel spoke as I reached for the door knob - my breath catching in my throat. I didn't turn around - just slowly dropped my hand back down to my side. When he spoke again, his voice was serious and devoid of all laughter. I knew the tone well. "Odd thoughts to be having toward your best friend... "
Odd.
Up until then I had never really stopped to think about my thoughts because, well... they were my thoughts. I'd never had an outside perspective on them. It didn't really disturb me so much as intrigue me... I'd, after all, seen much worse things. What bothered me was the fact that, for the first time, it was pointed out to me that the things I thought toward Hermione really weren't the type of things you would think toward a best friend.
I pushed the thoughts away and ignored them. I didn't want to know that. If my feelings for Hermione were turning in to something else, I couldn't deal with it just then and I just didn't want to know.
"We got in an argument." I responded blankly after a long silence.
"Oh, is that all?" He asked - the amusement returning to his voice. I finally turned to look at him, but said nothing. He shrugged. "Okay." He repeated in the same way from earlier. "But you should probably get back now anyway. You've got friends to make amends with... realizations to come to. You'll come to me when you're ready."
I tilted my head, not really understanding what he was talking about... and then shook my head, realizing I didn't care.
Without another glance backward, I turned toward the door and left.
*****
"Where have you been?" Hermione asked almost shrilly with her hands placed firmly on her hips before I even had a chance to close the door behind me. I tilted my head, shut the door, and took my jacket off before I was able to think of anything to say - just happy that she was speaking to me. I finally just decided on the truth as I met her worried eyes.
"Went to see my parents." I responded on a sigh. Hermione's eyes softened immediately, and she took her hands off her hips in favor of letting her arms droop at her sides.
"Oh." She said quietly, and then with a bit more force. "You could have told me."
"I thought you'd left."
Hermione crossed her arms.
"Well... I didn't."
I smiled just a little at that.
"I can see that." I said as I pushed phantom glasses up my nose - forgetting for a moment that the mess of wire still resided in my pants pocket. Hermione noticed the gesture.
"Can you? Where are your glasses?" She asked like an annoyed older sister. I pulled them out of my pocket and showed them to her. She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes... perhaps making herself feel better by being an almost maternal nag.
"Not so much glasses anymore, I suppose. I don't even think magic will help this time."
"Nonsense, Harry." She said with another exasperated sigh as she took her wand from her side pocket and pointed it at my glasses. She muttered the familiar incantation and the thin metal and plastic twisted immediately back in to something recognizable as spectacles again. I let out a small laugh as I put them on my face.
"Thanks for that." I said. Hermione dismissed my gratitude with a shrug as she replaced her wand in her pocket. I took a deep breath. "Look, Hermione... I'm sorry about this morning. I shouldn't have spoken that way to you."
Hermione's honey colored eyes met mine once again and I saw nothing but understanding there. Of course I would see nothing but understanding there. I didn't know how I had ever let myself believe that Hermione would stay angry with me. She smiled softly.
"I'm sorry, too." She responded. "It took me a few moments to realize that I may have overreacted it bit. It's just that I care for you, Harry, and sometimes it's hard not to bombard you with unsolicited advice."
"I know."
"I don't want you to feel alone - like you have the whole weight of the universe on your shoulders. The more you believe that, the more you pull away - the more I can't reach you. And I..." She looked down, trailing off. I took a few steps closer to her and reached out to hold her chin in my hand.
"You what?" I asked quietly as I tilted her face back up. She hesitantly looked up in to my eyes. The emotion that reflected back at me was nearly overwhelming.
"I can't lose you, too." Came her words in a strained whisper. There was nothing to do after that but pull her in to my arms and hold her to me as tightly as I could without hugging her in to unconsciousness. Her hands clasped at my shoulders and her head came to rest against my chest. This was the warmth that I had been so afraid of losing that morning... and I understood how Hermione felt. I couldn't lose her, either.
I couldn't ever lose her.
"I promise that will never happen." I said in to the top of her head, and planted a soft kiss there. "As long as you promise the same."
"I promise." There was no hesitation in her response - only a need to drive away to hurt that would always be present when we thought of being separated.
"I love you, Hermione." I spoke the words without much thought; just knowing that I meant them... Yet as soon as they left my lips - I had to wonder for the first time how I meant them.
I did not let myself think about it long. Hermione was my friend and I loved her as a friend - I had to leave it at that. Anything more would complicate things beyond recognition. I was still getting over Ginny. Hermione was still mourning over Ron. We both were. This was not the time to start realizing hidden feelings for her. I loved her as a friend. Nothing more.
And that's what I kept telling myself.
*****
The room was dark, lit only by a few floating candles. There were only four of us this time. Remus, Mr. Weasly, Tonks... and me. The silence that sat between us was nearly painful as I waited for a response from someone. Anyone. The three others only sat staring at me through the barely lit darkness. I felt as though I were a man on trial awaiting judgment. Guilty or not guilty...
In my case - crazy... or not crazy.
Remus looked at his clasped hands. There - movement! That was something. He sighed and looked back up at me.
"You believe it was Ron?" He asked gravely. It was not really a question I thought myself ready to answer, but I was quite relieved that someone had finally spoken. I looked around at the other faces - consciously keeping myself from lingering on Mr. Weasly's for too long - and thought about the question for a long moment before I spoke.
"I don't know what I believe." I answered truthfully. And I didn't. My desperation battled with my sensibility. It had to be Ron because the coincidence was too great to have been possible... but it couldn't have been Ron because that was just impossible. "Could it have been? I mean... is it heard of?"
Remus arched his eyebrows briefly with a sigh.
"Well, it's certainly not unheard of." Tonks answered - receiving a wary look from Remus. She shrugged. "It's possible, Remus." She said off his look, then looked back at me. "It's certainly possible, if that's what you're asking."
Remus shook his head. "But very unlikely, Harry." He said.
"Then what else could it have been?"
"Many things... the least of which being your imagination."
"My imagine--" I cut myself of with a shake of my head. "No. I couldn't have imagined it. I know what I heard." Remus sat back.
"Then you do believe it was Ron." Mr. Weasly asked quietly. I looked at him hesitantly. I could not read his expression - due either to the fact that it was too dark to properly see him, or just that it was plain unreadable.
"I..." I started, and then shook my head. "I'm just not willing to rule out the possibility just yet. But I know what I heard wasn't my imagination. I heard something, whether it was Ron or... something else."
"What about the boy?" Remus asked - I looked back over at him, thankful that I did not have to meet Mr. Weasly's eyes anymore. How must he have felt about all this? I was reopening old wounds to be sure... for everyone in the room. "Seems strange that he just appears out of nowhere after all this transpired. We know he knows a lot about you and that he has exhibited magical traits. Do you think it possible he had a hand in this?"
The question sounded more like an accusation that was aimed in the general direction of Daniel Blake.
"I don't think so." I said. "I didn't get that feeling from him... He was cheeky and irritating, but he didn't seem to mean me any harm. I've come to trust my instincts when it comes to people."
Remus let out a short laugh that sounded more to me like a grunt.
"Have you? And was it those same set of instincts that told you it was perfectly all right to follow the young man back to his home?" He asked pointedly. I sat back in my chair, hardening my face. There it was again. Everyone seemed to expect such greatness from me... yet no one ever seemed to want to trust me. How many times would I have to prove myself to the very people who wanted me to fight for them?
"Well here I am in one piece," I started almost coldly. "So if it was the same set of instincts - they weren't particularly wrong, were they?"
"I don't think he meant to offend you, Harry--" Tonks started looking back and fourth between us.
"And perhaps I did." Remus interrupted. I narrowed my eyes a bit.
"Of course you did." I said.
"Harry, for quite sometime I've watched you. I've watched you be the hero and I've seen you do amazing things. Amazing things." He shook his head. "But of all the things you are, perfect is not one of them. You can be quite irresponsible and dangerously rash. Sometimes situations call for quick action but there are other times when situations call for time and thought."
"You treat me like a child, Rem--"
"You act like a child, Harry!" Remus exclaimed as he stood up - his chair falling back and clattering loudly on the hardwood floor. Anger flared in his features as I had seen only very few times in him. He was mad. Tonks and Mr. Weasly seemed very calm at his outburst... but for my part I was, very simply, stunned quiet. "You have been through a lot but you still have much to learn, which is why we must watch over you and try to help you make the right decisions."
"You ask so much of me, yet when I try to do something you question my actions."
"Because you are still so young." He took a deep breath and looked down - seeming to collect himself before he looked back up at me. "We recognize great skill and power in you, Harry... but that power is nothing if you do not utilize it properly. We need your help but you need ours, too. This whole war does not revolve around you."
I was silent.
The whole war did not revolve around me?
"The next time your forehead lights on fire with visions of the dark lord... tell me that again."
Remus shook his head again at that. A gesture I knew so well.
"Pretentious and misguided." He said, then met my eyes dead on in the darkness. "It's thinking like that which got Ron killed."
"Remus!" Tonks and Mr. Weasly said in unison as they both stood in shock. I stood as well - but not in shock. Not in anger either. Not sadness. Not hurt or grief.
It was hatred.
"You weren't there." I spat through clenched teeth.
"No, Harry... I wasn't there." He said with a tone sounding almost of resignation. "I wish to God I had been there... perhaps I could have done something to prevent it while you were busy fighting a war all by yourself."
Tonks put a hand on his shoulder.
"Remus..." She said quietly. Remus never took his eyes off of me.
"Or perhaps," he continued. "That's just the kind of thinking that leaves you feeling as though you are alone in the world... and so guilty for things that might have been beyond your control that you are too blinded by pain and anger to see it."
I blinked once... then a few more times. His words had hit their mark. How had he known just what to say? How had he known that I blamed myself for what happened to Ron? How had he known that the guilt was nearly killing me?
Remus turned from me and left the room.
I could feel Mr. Weasly's eyes on the side of my face. I know he wanted answers... answers to questions that I did not want to be asked. I swallowed and tried to meet his gaze, but could not bring myself to do it. There had been few times in my life when I had felt like a coward, and that was one of them.
"I'm... I'm sorry." I stammered out before walking out of the room myself.
Remus stood with his back to me in the corridor. I had not expected that... I had not wanted that.
"You are very headstrong and stubborn, Harry." He said, and then turned around to face me. "I know that you do not like to be told things contrary to what you think or believe. I know you would alternately just think or believe what you want without anyone else's input. But there is a word for that, Harry, and that word is ignorance."
Ignorance. The word hit me hard... just as hard as though he had slapped me in the face.
"I do not deny that you are very powerful - very necessary to our fight..." He continued, though he must have known the effect that word had had on me. He must have seen it on my face. "But when will you understand that under all the layers and layers of lost childhood years and frightful experiences, that you are still only human?"
I swallowed and had only one thing to say in response.
"When I die." I said.
Remus nodded... a frown settling heavily over his features. His eyes glanced toward the end of the hallway briefly, and then back to me.
"Perhaps it is not your death that will bring you to terms with your limitations." He said with a slow, sad shake of his head before striding away. I swallowed and stared straight for a long moment before turning my head slightly to see what it was Remus had glanced at.
Hermione stared, brows knotted together in concern, toward me. I clenched my jaw. What had he meant?
"I wont let you die." I said angrily. Hermione shook her head and took a step toward me. Just one step.
"I--"
"No!" I shouted, she jumped back a bit. "It wont be like Ron. I wont let you die!"
I must have shouted that at least three more times before collapsing to my knees in tears - Hermione's arms around me in an instant.
Remus seemed to always know just what to say to get to me.
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