Losing You

crystalline_blades

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 21/07/2007
Last Updated: 21/07/2007
Status: in_progress

Can a death of a best friend cause the other two to lose one another? Please review!

Chapters

1. Losing You

1. Losing You

Disclaimer: I do not own HP, but I love writing about them.

Author’s note: I churned this out at 1 last night when I was listening to Hilary Duff’s Stranger. Not sure if it’s any good, but I thought I’d just post it since the seventh book is out too!

This is for Joanna and Maxine who have had to put up with my self-absorption this week.

The house was silent, save for the soft murmurs drifting up the spiral staircase. The girl moved up the staircase silently, her fingers tracing the grooves of the well-worn banister of the staircase. Upon reaching the top of the stairs she then headed down a hallway, her feet making soft tread falls upon the worn green carpet that lined the hallway. She stopped abruptly in front of one of the doors and knocked on the door.

"Harry?" She called through the door, exhaustion evident in her voice as well as a hint of sadness. "Harry. Remus is here. He wants to talk to you."

Silence greeted her announcement.

Hermione Granger sighed as she shifted herself such that she was leaning against the wall that was adjacent to the old oak door and spoke once more. "Harry, please." Her voice was soft but it held an evident plea. "Don’t do this to yourself." She paused, and when she next spoke, her voice threatened tears. "Don’t do this to me."

When there was no reply, she felt a small spark of annoyance and anger come to life in her. She had been trying to no avail for the entire week to coax Harry out of his room and she was getting tired of it, of trying and always failing. It wasn't as if she didn't have enough to deal with right now, an irate voice in her head added.

"Harry." She could hear the irritation in her voice now. "You had better come out this minute, if not I'm going to blast the door down myself and drag you out myself." The threat hung in the air and she waited for his response.

"Just go away." His disembodied voice floated from behind the ancient wood. "I don't want to see anybody, or talk to anybody for that matter." His icy tone should have deflected anyone from trying to make him come out but not Hermione. In fact, it served to make her even more determined to make him come out.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry!" Hermione burst out, shoving herself away from the wall to face his door, her eyes narrowing. "You've been in there for a week. Are you going to keep at this, with your guilt forever?"

His silence was dangerous but she ignored it, feeling the anger build up in her, her body tensing as she went on.

"You couldn't have prevented Ron's death!" Hermione exclaimed in frustration, pushing back some of her wispy fringe from her forehead as she began to pace up and down the piece of carpet in front of his door. "No one could have." The anger in her voice diminished slightly. "It was something we all didn't want."

The scenes of Ron's last moments replayed in her head, bringing the instant prick of tears behind her eyelids, the ones that threatened to fall so many times these days. How his blue eyes had become those of ice, his features set in a look of determination as he had charged at Dolohov. How he had aimed a hex at Lestrange with the utmost precision, causing the vicious Death Eater to fall to the floor in pain. How he had eventually headed for Voldermort himself, how the green light had enveloped in his body, how he had crumpled to the ground, his wand falling from his slack hand to the floor...

Hermione found a solitary tear flowing down her cheek as she continued her voice thick with emotion. "You couldn't have prevented this." She swallowed another sob. "Don't punish yourself for his death."

Just then, she heard his footsteps growing louder behind the closed doors and before she could blink, the door had been opened and Harry stood in the doorway, his expression one of anger. But even the anger in his features couldn't mask the shadows that lurked beneath those once bright emerald eyes, nor the pain and guilt in them. Just seeing him like this made her heart constrict further.

"You're wrong, Hermione." His voice was low, controlled, the anger in it barely suppressed. "I could have prevented it. If I hadn't allowed you guys to come with me, Ron probably wouldn't be dead right now!" His voice grew louder, the effort to restrain his anger failing miserably.

"Do you think that we would have actually just let you do this on your own even if you had refused to let us go with you?" Hermione countered, the sorrow she felt dissipating, being replaced with that steady flame of anger at him. It was almost inexplicable, their anger towards each other and she knew that sooner or later one of them would do something they regretted but she went on.

"No, but at least I would have done something else to prevent you guys from doing it with me." Harry shot back, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes sparkling in anger.

"And you think we would have gone with that?" Hermione scoffed, mirroring his move by folding her own arms across her chest and meeting his narrowed gaze with her own. "We would have followed you either way."

"Don’t you see?" Harry burst out, fury barely disguisable in his tone. "It was MY fault! My fault that Ron died! My fault that now Luna is without a husband, my fault that the Weasleys the ones who have loved me as a son are now missing their own real flesh and blood!"

"They don't seem to think it’s your fault!" Hermione defended hotly. "Luna... she's just lost her husband but she's still being so brave about it. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, they love Ron so so much but yet they're trying to move on." She paused, hoping to swallow some of the emotion in her voice back. "Everyone's trying to move on, Harry." She moved forward, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Why can't you?"

Instead of replying her question, he seemed to change tack and his eyes grew hard and cold as he almost bit out, "Just like how you've moved on so fast?"

Her hand stopped in mid-air, frozen by the harsh meaning of his simple question. She stared at him, her eyes growing wider at his words, her hand eventually dropping back to her side.

Seeming to take her silence as her conceding, Harry went on, his eyes locked with her shocked ones, "You seem to have moved on so fast, it’s almost hard to believe that you actually care that Ron's dead." Harry pressed his lips together for a moment, almost deliberating his next words with a sort of malicious pleasure in knowing that he could shock her to such an extent. "It’s like you don’t even care that he's gone."

Those were possibly the most hurtful thing that Harry could have said to her.

Hermione felt her entire body tense up, cold fury replacing the shock in her body. The blood seemed to drain from her face and she could feel her expression freeze in one of hurt, anger and misery. There was a loud roaring in her ears, except for the words that Harry had just verbally flayed her with. It's like you don’t even care that he's gone. It’s almost hard to believe that you actually care that Ron's gone.

And without thinking about what she was doing, she raised her hand and slapped him across the cheek, hard, the loud, sharp sound hanging in the air.

She felt the tears slide down her cheeks, angry tears instead of the usual tears of grief she had been shedding. The almost immediate twinge of shock at having hit Harry soon disappeared, hidden under the blanket of hurt that was paralyzing her.

Harry jerked his head back to meet her furious and hurt gaze, a brief flash of shock registering before his eyes flashed back in anger.

"Don’t you dare accuse me of not caring that Ron is dead." Her voice was shaking, with the sheer intensity of her anger, low and deliberate. "He was my best friend too. I loved him once. Don’t you dare accuse me of not caring that he is gone!" Her last words ended in a shout, one that held all the emotions that had been pent up in her for so long.

Harry seemed to realize what he had done, the anger sliding slowly off his face as he touched his cheek, his gaze never leaving hers.

Hermione felt the most of the anger leaving her as soon as it had come, leaving her with only a numbing hurt that filled her entire being. She was unable to control the tears that slid from under her closed lids, the ones she'd closed so as to prevent herself from seeing him, from meeting his gaze.

"I thought losing Ron was the worst thing that could happen to me." Her voice was breathy with tears and emotion and she struggled to swallow a sob, to keep her eyes locked with his now that she'd opened them to a blurred vision. "But I was wrong," She paused, to choke back the tears, to steady her breaking voice. "Now... I feel like I'm losing you too."

And with that Hermione whirled away from Harry, running past that crowd of Order members that had formed during their fight, the drops of sorrow and hurt sliding down her face.

************************************

A few minutes after Harry had once again retreated into his bedroom, a knock came at the door once more and the voice of Remus Lupin drifted through its panel, almost inaudible as it was soft.

"Harry, it’s me." The voice hesitated for a second. "Can I come in?"

The afore mentioned Harry sighed and looked out of the window. After what had happened before when he refused to comply with Hermione's orders, he felt more than inclined to let Remus in rather than risk the member of the Order hexing him into yesteryear if he refused.

"Yeah."

The door opened and Harry didn't turn his head to look at the sandy haired man who walked in, but listened to the slight creaking of the ancient boards as the older man made his way towards the bed and seated himself on the edge of it. He felt the quiet gaze of his mentor bore into him but did not say anything.

"Harry," Remus began,” I saw what happened and I..."

"You think I was wrong to do that." Harry interrupted in a flat voice. "I know."

"Well, yes," Remus admitted, his voice gentle and kind, "But I also wanted to say that I understand what you're going through and that I want to help you get out of this...this mess."

Harry let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "Right. You've seen your best friend being murdered by Voldermort because you were stupid enough to let him come along?" When Remus made no comment, he laughed shortly. "I rest my case."

"But I've had two of my best friends die at his hands." Remus's voice grew serious. "So I would know."

Harry looked steadily out of the window, feeling worse and worse by the minute.

"Listen to me, Harry." There was something in his mentor's voice that made Harry turn towards him slowly. "I won’t deny it is hard to get over the loss of your best friend. And you are right in saying that I dont understand part of what you're going through because I was never placed with a prophecy to kill the most evil wizard of all time." The quiet truth in Remus's voice made Harry's eyes sting slightly but he blinked furiously, not wanting to shed anymore tears than he already had.

"But I do know that we have to learn to move on." Remus placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "We have to let go and move on with our lives, knowing that although they may no longer be here physically, they are always in our thoughts. If not..." Remus's voice took on a note of warning, "We may just end up losing the ones that are still around."

We may just end up losing the ones that are still around. Harry's thoughts immediately flew to Hermione and what had happened earlier, feeling his heart sink. Was it too late? Had he hurt her for good? Had he lost her already when he'd said those hurtful things to her?

Remus must have read the expression on his face clearly, if his next words were any form of indication. "It’s never too late to try and make up." Harry looked up into the kind eyes of his mentor, who then inclined his head towards the door. "Go on and find her."

For what seemed like the first time in a long while, Harry smiled back in return.

***************************

Hermione sat in the glow of the late afternoon sun, watching the brilliant ball of fire glow as it sank behind a cloud, casting the last rays of sunlight across the earth. The gentle lapping of the lake calmed her turbulent emotions, made her feel almost calm and at peace since Ron's death. She leaned back against the gnarled trunk of the tree, resting in its deep groove and closed her eyes.

After running out of Grimauld Place, crying, Hermione had walked around the streets of London, trying to get her own emotions slightly more in check before apparating to Hogsmeade and from there, walking to Hogwarts where she had immediately sat by the lake and cried.

She realized that she had been trying so hard to be a comfort to the Weasleys, to Luna, to Harry that she'd never truly felt the loss of Ron herself until today. She'd cried... but it had been for Luna, who had lost her husband, for the Weasleys who had lost their son and brother, for Harry who had lost his best friend.

Now she cried, for herself, for finally allowing the loss of her best friend, the one she once loved to sink in. They would no longer be the Golden Trio, Ron would no longer be there to make her laugh by eating liberal amounts of food, by saying all the funny things at the right moment, and just being there for her when she needed him. She sobbed for the best friend she'd lost, and for how she felt like she was now losing yet another one of her best friends.

She remembered pleading silently, Ron, if you can hear me, please; dont let me lose Harry too. Now that you're gone, he's all I've got. I can’t lose him... I've already lost you and it hurts... it hurts so much.

She sighed once more, thinking of what had happened this afternoon. She regretted hitting Harry, and she knew she would apologize to him for doing that sometime later, but yet some small mean part of her felt that he had deserved it and another surge of injustice and hurt overwhelmed her again. The accusations he had made against her were so cruel, so heartless... she could have hardly believed it had been Harry who was making them.

But yet he had.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione sat up at the sound of her name, wondering who it was.

The girl, who had called her name, was holding a tray of food and looking extremely nervous if the way the tray was trembling slightly was any indication. She looked almost like a first-year, maybe even a second year and Hermione could see from her uniform that she was a Gryffindor as well. The girl looked almost like her in some respects, Hermione thought, looking at the girl's long sandy brown hair. She noticed however, the girl had deep blue eyes just like Ron's.

"Headmistress McGonagall wanted me to bring you some dinner." The girl nervously put the tray down on the ground beside Hermione. "She said if you'd like to stay over for the night, you could use the Room Of Requirement or set up a bed in the Gryffindor Common Room." The girl clasped her hands almost nervously and twisted them.

Hermione smiled, finding the girl's nervousness almost endearing. Just then, she spotted two boys standing a little way from behind them, one with relatively neat dark hair but some of it was standing up an angle. The other, had light brown hair, a lighter shade than that of the girl's and even at his young age towered slightly over the other boy. They were watching the exchange between Hermione and the girl intently, evidently waiting for her.

"Thank you." Hermione gestured at the waiting boys. "Are those your friends?"

The girl's gaze followed the direction of where Hermione was pointing and smiled widely. "Yup, those are my friends." She said, with an almost proud smile on her face. "I mean, my best friends," She corrected hastily. "We do everything together."

"That's nice."

"I know." The girl's smile grew even wider if that was possible. "I'm lucky to have them as my best friends."

And with that, she hurried up the path to where the boys were standing and Hermione watched, sudden tears forming once more as she watched them go, reminded so explicitly of how she, Harry and Ron had been like that once. The children were almost their doppelgangers, she knew, it was almost as if it was some reminder of their past, when they'd been so innocent, so happy...

She turned her gaze away from the backs of the departing children and looked down at the tray briefly before smiling. Professor McGonagall had welcomed Hermione when she had first arrived and allowed her to stay for as long as she'd liked. Although their meeting had been short, the concerned look on McGonagall’s face had made Hermione feel much better already.

She did not feel like going back to the Order Headquarters, nor did she feel like facing Harry just yet. Maybe she would stay the night and see how things went. It felt nice to be back, it gave her a sense of peace just looking around at the place and relieving all the happier memories of her past. Maybe she would stay here for awhile, get her life back in order and....

"Hermione!"

******************

"Hermione!" Harry called, his voice carrying on the night breeze as he spotted her sitting by the old tree facing the lake. He hurried down the gently slope, slipping and sliding slightly, in his hurry to get to her, to apologize and hope that she would forgive him, that they would go back to being the way they were....

It had felt almost weird to be getting out of his room. He had been in there for so long, he hadn't realized that he had missed being outdoors, and it was almost magical how his feelings had seemed to automatically lighten as he had stepped out of the Headquarters. But right now, all he wanted to do was just to make it up to Hermione, to apologize for saying such things to her.

He had known that she was miserable about Ron's death, sometimes at night, through the thin walls of his room; he had heard her muffled crying and stifled screams when she'd woken up from what inevitably had been a bad dream about Ron's death. He didn't know what had possessed him to say all that too her, but he had deserved that slap, he had gone overboard this time.

Eventually, he reached her side. She made no move to look at him, but kept her distance, her gaze falling on the ripples of moonlight on the lake.

Please, let her forgive me.

"Hey." He tried tentatively.

She did not look at him, did not acknowledge his presence.

He seated himself next to her, such that their arms were touching but almost immediately, she flinched at his touch and moved away.

His heart sank at this, twisted in pain.

He had lost her.

"I'm so sorry," He blurted out, all the elaborate apologies he had been formulating during his search for her vanishing, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I said you didn't care about Ron's death." He saw her face pale slightly once more at that reminder of his hurtful words. "I'm sorry. I can't lose you." His final words came out as a plea.

He fell silent, praying that she would forgive him.

Hermione laughed, but it was a cold mirthless laugh. “You told me I didn’t care that Ron was dead.” Her words were measured, carefully concealing her anger. “Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing now? Moping over his death just like you’ve been doing?”

She paused, seeming to want to put up yet another fight, from the way her body was tensed and his heart, if it was almost possible sank even further. Her face did not betray her emotions but he sat there, still and waiting for her reaction, his hopes rising when he saw the way her body slumped slightly, the fight going out of her like her sharp exhalation.

"You hurt me." Her voice was subdued, quiet in the still of the night. "You really did."

"I know."

"We can’t go on like this." Her voice was pained. "We have to learn to move on together, we have to learn to be a comfort to one another and to the rest."

"I know." Harry repeated. Boldly, he reached over to take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "We can do it together."

For one awful moment, he thought she was going to pull away, to walk away from him.

And then she gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand, murmuring, "I really miss him." Her voice was sad, but it also sounded wistful.

"I miss him too." Harry looked away from her for a minute, out at the lake. For a long moment, he thought of his best friend, red hair and freckles, smiling at both of them from wherever he was and for the first time since Ron's death, smiled at the thought of him.

And he knew that no matter what, Ron would always be with them.

************

EPILOGUE

Time passed, and they had all moved on.

Luna had succeeded her father in becoming the Head Editor of the Quibbler, which was now a successful magazine in the Wizarding world. Although she still missed Ron, she was keeping busy, taking life as it came day by day.

The pain of losing Ron had diminished slightly for the Weasleys, and they were now busy preparing for Ginny’s marriage to Draco, who had become part of the Order after he had left the Death Eaters and awaiting the arrival of Bill’s first son.

And Harry and Hermione?

The weeks after their fight had gotten better. They no longer had to struggle on their own with the guilt, with the grief of losing Ron alone. They knew that they could depend on one another for comfort, for strength, like how Hermione always went to Harry if she had had a bad dream about Ron’s death, or how Harry always went to Hermione if he felt like just talking about Ron. Although Ron was gone, they knew they still had each other.

And somehow along the way, they had become something more. They still went to one another on the pretext of comfort but they knew that they also went to one another, for love, for acceptance. Although they rarely talked about it, one could see it in the way they held hands, the way Harry sometimes brushed a kiss across her forehead, and later, across her lips in a most tender manner, the way Hermione would lean her head against his shoulder, her fingers interwined with his, and the way they looked at each other, their eyes conveying all they had to say in a secret, silent language only known to both of them.

But most of all, although Ron was gone, they knew that they had never really lost him—that he would remain in their hearts, just as how they would always remain in each other’s.

So? How was it? Good? Bad? Let me know.