Deceived by the very thing that brought them together, Harry and Hermione must remove the blindfold of friendship and see the truth of their love...
From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/7543/
Disclaimer: I did not create any of the HP characters or storyline.
Warning: Book 7 spoilers. Disregards epilogue.
A/N: I know I have so many other fics I am supposed to be writing, but it seems like another idea has gotten into my head and here I am writing it. This chapter didn’t turn out as well as I wished, but it’s still only the beginning, so hopefully it will get better.
The One I Turn to
The room was completely silent except for the slow, rhythmic breathing of the man lying sprawled out on the bed. His messy black hair was sticking out in odd angles, his mouth slightly open as he slept peacefully. One of his arms was hanging haphazardly over the bed, his fingers brushing against the soft carpet on the floor of his rather messy bedroom. The moon peeped through the gap in the curtains, casting a silvery glow on the odds and ends dotted about the room, but not giving enough light to wake the sleeping man. A photo of three adults was resting on the bedside table, its inhabitants shimmering in the pearly moonlight. The man with red hair was looking beyond the photo, while the brown haired woman and the black haired man laughed silently together. Next to the photo was a small bit of parchment, the words glowing faintly in the light:
Harry,
I know you told me to keep trying, but I feel like I’m talking to a wall. Can’t you do something?
-Hermione
Suddenly a loud bang resounded about the house as someone thumped his or her hand against the front door. Harry sat up with a jerk, his eyes squinting from drowsiness, as he stared about for the cause of his awakening. The banging continued, getting louder and more desperate. With a groan, Harry pushed the covers off his body, grabbed his wand off the table, muttering a quick lumos to light the way, and walked towards the front door, grumbling under his breath about people waking him up at ungodly hours.
He opened the door and paused in surprise, as he saw his best friend, Hermione Granger, standing on his front porch with a bag of what looked like her belongings in her hand. He could tell by the puffiness around her eyes that she had been crying, and he had a feeling he knew why. Ron and Hermione had gotten engaged six months ago, but Harry knew they had been having problems. He had tried to tell Hermione to work with Ron and communicate more, but it seemed it had not worked…
“I didn’t know who else to turn to,” Hermione said by way of greeting, her face taking on such a helpless and defeated expression that Harry felt all his previous feelings of annoyance melt away to be replaced with sincere concern for his friend.
“Come inside.” Harry urged, taking her bag from her and leading her into his home. It was more a small flat than a house, but it was still his home. He had gotten it when he had been dating Ginny, but now he was the only one that lived here. The flat, once a clean and welcoming place, now reflected Harry’s messy nature, though Hermione didn’t seem to mind; he doubted she would have even noticed anything amiss with her current situation.
He flicked on the lights and tucked his wand in his pocket, giving a slight frown at the mess strewn over the floors. He turned back to Hermione, staring at her distraught expression, as he placed her bag of belongings on the floor. It was strange to see Hermione so upset, for he was so used to her being so calm and collected. Then again, Ron had always had a way of making Hermione lose her self-control. He guessed that was just the way their love was.
Hermione continued to just stand in the middle of the room, a lost expression on her face. Harry frowned slightly, not wanting to be the one to initiate the conversation, but he realised that she was probably not going to say anything. He shivered slightly as the cold air attacked his bare chest, and rubbed his arms to keep himself warm. He’d better just get this over with before he froze to death.
“What happened?” Harry asked finally when Hermione showed no signs of talking. Hermione sniffed slightly, her eyes filling with a guilty expression. She collapsed down on the couch, placing her hands in her head, her bushy brown hair shielding her face. He waited patiently for when she would speak, hoping that somehow he would be able to find the words to comfort her.
“I…I told him that I couldn’t be with him anymore,” Hermione half-whispered, her broken tones reflecting how upset she was in hurting Ron, or maybe she was just hurt herself? Harry wasn’t sure.
“Did you take my advice and try talking with him?” Harry asked quietly, trying to keep his voice calm so that she wouldn’t burst into tears on him. He knew she just needed someone to unburden herself to, and with a few gentle questions, he was sure he could get the truth from her.
In truth, he was not really that surprised this had happened, for he had tried to talk to Ron at Hermione’s request, but Ron had proven just as stubborn as Hermione. Neither of them wanted to confront the other, and while Ron refused to believe that anything was wrong, Hermione refused to believe that anything would change. Their relationship was suffering because both of them had such strong views and neither wanted to compromise. Whether it was jobs, homes, wedding arrangements, or even friends; neither of them could agree on anything, and both of them seemed intent on trying to change the other’s opinion. Not only that, but Hermione had slowly gotten more frustrated with Ron’s inability to tell her how he was feeling without getting offensive, and Ron seemed to feel that if he just ignored their problems, everything would be fine. Harry knew better, and while he had tried to help his friends with their love problems, he also knew that he couldn’t always play the diplomat for them.
Turning his thoughts back to Hermione, Harry watched as she nodded her head, pulling her hands away from her face to look at him with her puffy, honey-brown eyes.
“I tried to tell him how I was feeling, but he just wouldn’t listen… he never listens.” Hermione said dejectedly. “He’s still upset that I joined the law department, and when I tried to explain to him why I wanted the job, he just got angry and changed the subject, telling me that I just want to be cosy with my boss.” Her eyes flashed angrily, her lips thinning into a furious line. “He’s jealous of every man that I talk to. I’m just lucky he hasn’t started on you yet.”
“He’s insecure, Hermione, but he really does love you.” Harry said comfortingly, taking a seat next to her on the couch. He had heard Ron tell him so many times how much Hermione meant to him, but sometimes Harry felt like Ron didn’t deserve her. Ron could be such a prat, but then again, Harry knew it wasn’t all Ron’s fault. Hermione often didn’t know how to react to Ron. She nearly always ended up driving him away with her nagging behaviour, or tried to force him to change, just as much as he did to her. He had always thought that was just the way they were, but now, seeing Hermione so upset, and knowing that Ron had once again decided to ignore the problem, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if they really did suit as everyone said they did.
“Loving me isn’t enough.” Hermione declared hotly. “He never listens to me; he never even tries to work with me. He doesn’t respect anything that I enjoy, and he’s constantly suspicious of me when I am around other men.” She rubbed her temples slightly and sighed, “I can’t handle being with someone like that, and just the thought of marrying him makes me feel so worried because what if he never changes?” Hermione asked, raising her eyes, which were beginning to glisten with an unnatural quality.
Harry placed his arm around Hermione, pulling her closer to him to gently stroke her hair in a soothing manner. He could tell she was close to tears, and the last thing he wanted was Hermione crying.
“I know you’re upset, Hermione,” Harry said tenderly, “But you have to realise that you can’t change him. That is just the way Ron is.”
“I know,” Hermione mumbled into his chest, “But I just can’t be with him when he’s like this, and I know that everyone will hate me for leaving him. They won’t understand, Harry. I mean, we were supposed to get married in two months, and now….” Hermione trailed off and Harry could feel dampness against his skin, which could only be her tears. She started shaking slightly, and Harry silently wrapped his arms protectively around her and allowed her to cry.
He understood what she meant. Everyone just expected them to get married; they always had. Molly was in raptures that she would soon be able to call Hermione her daughter, just as everyone else was happy for them. If anyone were to be blamed for the relationship’s collapse, it would be Hermione, simply because not many people got to see Ron’s less attractive qualities. They would just think Hermione was being her usual bossy self and had driven him away, not realising that Ron could be just as demanding and unfeeling. Harry also knew that Hermione would never speak badly about Ron to anyone else but himself. Ron, however, was not likely to do the same. Harry knew that when Ron felt betrayed, he made sure everyone knew about it so they would side with him…
“Don’t feel guilty, Hermione,” Harry said after a few minutes, hoping to comfort her at least a little. “No matter what anyone says, you’ve done the right thing. There is no point staying in a relationship that will only lead to unhappiness.”
Hermione raised her tear-stained face and looked at him with an odd expression. “Like you and Ginny?” She asked softly. Harry stiffened slightly, but then relaxed knowing she was right.
Ginny had broken up with him two years after they had been dating. She had told him that she couldn’t handle being in a relationship with him because he was too distant with her. Harry guessed in a way she was right. He had tried to shield her from all the pain he felt, but it had only frustrated her. Even when she sobbed to him over the phone about how sorry she was for cheating on him with Seamus during her Quidditch tour, Harry had been unable to express the hurt he felt. He had simply carried on, though the affair had made him even more distant to her. Eventually Ginny just snapped and stopped the relationship, something Harry knew they should have done much earlier before things escalated to such a depressing end. He was still her friend now, but something had changed between them. Hermione was smart to break things off now before her and Ron’s friendship was ruined just like Ginny and Harry’s had been…
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said in a mortified whisper. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
Harry shook his head, giving her a sad smile. “It’s fine. You’re right anyway; I should never have stayed with Ginny when I knew that we were both unhappy. I’m just glad you did something before you and Ron ended up the same way.”
Hermione smiled gratefully at him, her body curled up against him, for his arms were still wrapped protectively around her. “Thank you for understanding, Harry,” Hermione said sincerely. “You don’t know how much it means to me to know that I can always turn to you.”
A warm smile came to Harry’s lips, his emerald eyes filling with a tenderness he rarely showed to anyone else. “You know I’m always here for you, Hermione. It’s what friends are for…”
Hermione laughed slightly and pulled herself away. “Then I guess I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”
Harry smiled to himself, glad that she seemed to be feeling better. He knew that things were going to be hard for Hermione now, just as they would be for Ron, but he wanted her to know she could rely on him for this. It was the least he could do after all she had done for him over the years.
“I take it you’ll be staying here then? Until things settle down?” Harry asked, as Hermione settled herself beside him on the couch. She nodded her head, a guilty expression coming once more to her face.
“You don’t mind, do you?” She asked anxiously. “I just don’t know where else I can go. I mean, my parents are on holiday, and everyone else is busy, and-”
“It’s fine, Hermione,” Harry said with a small laugh, firmly cutting off her explanations. “I’ve got a spare room you can have, though it’s a bit small.”
“I don’t mind.” Hermione said quickly, her eyes filling with relief that he was letting her stay.
“Alright then,” Harry said with a kind smile. “I’ll just go get the room ready for you.”
He stood up and walked to the spare room next to his, leaving Hermione still sitting on the couch. He opened the door and walked in, glad that this room was at least relatively tidy, since no one used it. With a few charms, he managed to get the room habitable; he figured Hermione would make it more to her liking later.
Tucking his wand back in his pocket, Harry walked back out of the room, his eyes automatically falling on Hermione who was now rummaging through her bag for something. She looked a lot calmer now after their talk, but he could still see the sadness she was carrying.
“It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I could do for now,” Harry said apologetically. Hermione looked up at him with a grateful smile, picking up her bag as she stood up.
“Don’t worry, Harry. I’m sure it’s fine.”
Harry nodded his head, and guided her into the small room. She placed her bag of stuff on the floor, and looked at him through her warm, honey-brown eyes- eyes that had always had such a gentle, soothing quality, though now they looked worried about what would happen.
“It’ll all work out.” Harry said reassuringly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Hermione nodded her head, taking a deep breath, before giving him a brave smile, though he could see the insecurity in her eyes.
“I hope so.”
“I know it will,” Harry affirmed, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He pulled his hand away and walked back towards the door, turning back to her to give her one last comforting smile.
“Goodnight Hermione,” Harry said softly.
“Goodnight,” Hermione echoed. Harry nodded slightly and left the room, shutting it softly behind him to give her some privacy. He waved his wand at the lights and walked next door to his own room, collapsing on the bed straight away. He lay there with his eyes open, his mind turning over all that they had spoken about. He wasn’t really sure what to think; only that he was glad Hermione had done what she believed to be right...
It was strange to think that after four years Ron and Hermione had split up, but then he guessed people must have thought the same about him and Ginny. He knew that most relationships were not what they seemed, and people changed as well. It was just unfortunate that neither of them had been able to resolve their problems, since he did know how much Ron and Hermione loved each other. Hermione was right, however, love just wasn’t enough…
Harry sighed and rolled over on the bed, wondering what would happen now. Ron was going to find out that he was helping Hermione, and so there was going to be some anger there, though maybe Ron would let it go… Harry snorted to himself, realising that was not going to happen.
He stared blankly up at the dark roof, feeling just a little worried on what to do. He truly wanted to help Hermione, but he was also Ron’s friend. Getting caught in the middle of this would be hard, but he knew this time he had to help Hermione. She had come to him for help, and he would give it to her…
Disclaimer: I did not create any of the HP characters or storyline.
Warning: Book 7 spoilers. Disregards epilogue.
A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! I really do appreciate them, and I try to reply to most of them, but if I haven’t, just know that I really do love hearing from you!
I also have to apologise for the wait. My life seemed to have just been turned upside down over these past weeks, and you wouldn’t believe how hectic it has been. However, thankfully everything has sorted itself out, and I have once again found time to write, so I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Loyal
Light was stretching her arms over the busy streets of London, piercing through the grey clouds to form luminous rays that stretched to the frosted, bustling city below. Down in Harry’s street, the scene was much quieter. A muggle car puffed and wheezed along the icy road outside his bedroom, sending the twittering birds on the road to soar up to a nearby tree for safety. The sun was now firmly establishing itself in the sky, the bright rays of light seeping through the curtains to kiss Harry’s eyelids, forcing the sleep to melt away from his eyes. He shifted in the bed, trying to cling to the shreds of sleep still attached to his mind, but the sun had other plans, and soon Harry was yawning, his emerald-green eyes sliding open, blinking slightly as he sat up in the now brightly lit room.
“Morning already?” Harry muttered, still feeling rather groggy from his early-morning discussion with Hermione. He yawned again, realising by the silence of the house that Hermione must still be asleep.
Harry pushed the bedcovers off him and stepped out of the bed, pulling on his dressing gown, which had been lying on the floor. He picked up his glasses and put them on, glad that everything no longer looked like a blurred mess.
As he walked out off the room, he wondered if he should wake Hermione, but then thought she might want to be alone for a while. Deciding he would just leave her for now, Harry made his way to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast for both of them: a nice filling meal of eggs on toast and hot chocolate, which he was sure would cheer her up. He didn’t pride himself on much, but cooking was something he could take some pride in. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had made sure he could cook well, because neither of them had liked cooking themselves. Harry guessed he could be happy that they had taught him that at least that; he didn’t have much else to be grateful to them for, though he did have to admit, his relationship with his family had gotten much better over these past four years.
Shrugging off such trivial thoughts, Harry brought two plates out of the cupboard and placed them on the table, just as the door to Hermione’s bedroom opened. He looked up, greeting her tired expression with a smile. She looked almost cute with her sleepy, brown eyes, and hair bushier than ever.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” Harry asked, as he filled the two cups with boiling water from the jug. Hermione shook her head, giving him a brief smile, and sat down at the table.
“This looks nice,” she commented, her eyes watching his hands putting the eggs on the toast. Harry laughed slightly, and pushed the plate of food towards her, placing her cup of hot chocolate next to her.
“It’s the least I can do.”
Hermione smiled appreciatively and started eating, Harry doing the same. He noticed she looked much calmer today, yet there was still a strain in her eyes. She was trying so hard to be strong, but Harry could practically see the invisible tears wanting to fall. He knew the sadness she felt would not simply go away. Ron and Hermione had spent nearly four years together, and for him to think she would forget all that she had shared with Ron in one night was ridiculous.
“Has Ron sent any messages?” Hermione asked casually, after a pause of silence, though he knew the tone was just an act. He could see by the way her fingers curled tightly around her fork that she was worried, and he had to admit that he too was worried; it was only a matter of time before Ron found out where Hermione had sought refuge after all.
“No,” Harry said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything from him.”
Hermione’s eyes clouded slightly, and Harry thought he could see a small glimmer of tears gathering in the honey-brown depths. She put the fork down, placing a hand over her forehead, shielding her eyes from his view. He felt his stomach plummet with misgiving, knowing that somehow he was going to find himself in an uncomfortable situation. He had offered to take her in though, so he had to at least try to help her get through this; the problem was, he had never been very good at dealing with crying woman.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked gently, hoping that his voice wouldn’t trigger her into sobs.
Hermione shook her head, her hand still covering her face. She sniffed loudly, pulling her hand away to look at him, her expression so defeated and shattered that it made his own heart ache.
“It’s just, if he really cared about me, he would have sent a message.” Hermione explained in a shaky voice, her eyes taking on a brightness that only tears could give. “I said so many horrible things to him last night, so many things I regret, but I thought he still loved me…” Hermione looked away, giving a small humourless laugh. “I guess I was expecting him to come barging in here and take me back, or even just rage at me…but there’s nothing: no messages, no Ron…” She stared at him with a broken expression, her despair killing what light she had left in those sweet, honey-brown eyes. “His silence seems so much more painful than any cruel words he could say; as if he didn’t care at all…” she ended in a hollow voice, the tears now slipping down her pale cheeks, one-by-one.
Harry was surprised at what he was hearing; surprised that Hermione was questioning whether Ron loved her, and even surprised that it seemed like she wanted Ron to take her back. After their talk last night, he had thought she had made up her mind to leave Ron. She had explained how she couldn’t handle being with him, yet here she was crying because Ron had not contacted her. In some way he guessed he could sympathise, but he had to admit he found the whole thing highly confusing. That wasn’t the real problem now though, for he knew that Hermione was about to work herself into a fit of depression again, worrying that Ron had not loved her. He had to make her see sense again, and maybe even get her to confide just what the heck was going on in that brain of hers before he got totally lost.
He quickly stood up, his chair scraping back against the wooden floor loudly, and walked over towards her to kneel down next to her, his hands instinctively grasping her face gently. “Hermione, look at me,” Harry commanded, his green eyes focussed on her face. Hermione turned her eyes to him, her tears catching the light, giving a sparkling quality to her face. “Don’t start double-guessing your relationship with Ron now,” Harry said firmly, letting his thumbs gently wipe away the tears on her face, a small, comforting smile coming to his lips. “Ron loved you, and I am sure he still does. Just give him time; you know he is in pain right now, and just because he is not talking to you, does not mean he doesn’t care.”
“But I-”
“What do you want, Hermione?” Harry asked seriously, his words cutting off any further objections.
“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted helplessly, her eyes locked on his own, their faces mere inches apart. “I’m so confused Harry,” She admitted weakly. “Ron and I, we’ve been together for so long, and I-” Hermione broke off, a sob finally escaping from her lips.
“Listen to me,” Harry whispered soothingly, his eyes sympathetically watching her struggling to hold sobs back. “I know you’re confused, but eventually Ron will come to you, and you will need to know what you want from him when he does. Whether you want to go back to him, or whether you will stay apart from him; he has a right to know where you stand.
Hermione closed her eyes, the tears slipping down her cheeks to bathe his hands. She silently nodded her head, but still continued to cry, hiccupping every now and then. Harry let out a small sigh, just wishing he could give her the words she needed to be happy, but instead, he tenderly pulled her into a comforting embrace, slowly rocking her back and forth gently in his arms. He frowned to himself as he held her, wondering where this would lead. Would Hermione go back to Ron? Or would she decide to stay true to her word and leave him? Harry guessed only time would tell…
OOOO
Hermione watched Harry leave for work, a weak smile on her face as she waved goodbye. He disapparated with a small pop, leaving Hermione standing alone in the room, feeling rather conflicted with emotions. She appreciated how much Harry was trying to help her, but she also understood that he was not made of infinite patience. He could only keep comforting her for so long, and Hermione knew that she needed to pull things together. Relying on Harry to solve everything was not going to help her relationship with Ron, and while she had always naturally turned to Harry, she realised that he was right; this was her problem to solve, and she had to make up her mind on what she wanted herself.
She sighed and stared about the messy house, noticing the floor that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a while, at the shelves that were lightly coated with dust, and the books and parchments scattered about here and there. A frown curled her lips, her brown eyes narrowing slightly.
“Doesn’t he ever clean?” Hermione mused out loud, momentarily forgetting her own problems. She sighed again, rolling up her sleeves as she pulled out her wand and started cleaning the house. If anything it would keep her mind off worrying about Ron, or maybe even give her some inspiration on what she wanted.
The living room area did not take long to clean, and Hermione soon had the kitchen looking spick and span. She stared at the door to Harry’s room, and wondered if he would be annoyed if she cleaned up in there. Deciding that he would probably not mind, she pushed open the door, her mouth falling open as she saw the mess strewn everywhere about the room. Really, she knew Harry was messy, but this was almost ridiculous.
“Harry, you really need a woman,” Hermione muttered and started moving things where they were supposed to go. She pulled back the curtains to allow the warmth of the sun to come through, and opened a window to let some fresh air in. Gazing about the room, she noticed the crumpled bed and walked over to change it, when she noticed something sticking out from under the dressing table. Frowning to herself, Hermione walked over and knelt down on the floor to grab what she soon realised was a photo album.
Curious, Hermione opened the black book, smiling slightly as she saw pictures of James and Lily Potter together, locked in a one-armed hug, as they smiled up at Hermione, occasionally giving tender glances at each other. The happiness they shared was so evident it was almost infectious. She could see by the warmth in Lily’s emerald green eyes- eyes that were exactly like her son’s- that she truly loved James. Hermione was surprised to notice that Lily’s eyes were not the only things passed on to her son, for her smile, so kind and gentle, was exactly like Harry’s own smile. In looks, however, Harry was almost a replica of the raven-haired man standing next to Lily in the photo. They had the same messy hair, same features, and, as Hermione had often heard, similar personalities.
Hermione’s smile faded as she stared at Harry’s parents. Their love had been cut short, destroyed by Voldemort, and as she gazed into their faces, Hermione realised just how young they were. James and Lily were practically the same age as she was now, and she couldn’t help but remember how only four years ago she had stood at their graves with Harry, sharing in the pain he felt for these two beautiful people. She knew how much it upset him to have never known his parents, and because of the war, the very people who had taken on those roles as parents had been killed. Sirius and Lupin both had died during the war, and Molly and Arthur, although they had always treated Harry as a son, were not the same, and she knew it. There was also a slight strain in their relationship ever since Harry and Ginny had split up. Though Ginny had moved on, now happily dating Seamus, Hermione knew that everyone had blamed Harry for the break-up, and still did. He had been too distant; he hadn’t catered to her needs, and while it was the truth, Hermione hated the fact that he was now more alone because of it. He had done so much for all of them, dealt with so much for them, and yet everyone seemed to forget that in the face of their own selfishness. Even Hermione herself often forgot what Harry had suffered for her, and it made her heart ache to think that she could be so thoughtless when he was always so unbelievably good to her.
She dimly realised tears were gathering at her eyes, and wiped them away irritably, turning several pages of the photo album to hopefully turn the page on her own depressing thoughts. She was surprised to see a photo of Harry and herself; one that looked like it might have been taken not so long ago. He was smiling casually up at the real Hermione, while sometimes giving a warm glance towards her photographic self. She was surprised to see a similarity in the position they were in, for it was almost identical to James and Lily’s photo she had looked at before. She, just like Lily, was smiling happily, slightly leaning into Harry, while he had his arm wrapped protectively around her. Hermione was sure that the original picture had Ron in it, but he seemed to have walked off, and it made her wonder how the original positioning was, or whether she and Harry had always been like that.
Frowning, and feeling just a little confused, Hermione shut the photo album and placed it on the dressing table. She gazed about the half-cleaned room and sighed, deciding to just get the rest of the room done, and then she could figure out what to do later. She still hadn’t decided what to do about Ron, and time was running out… She was just so confused. She loved Ron- she truly did- but it just seemed like everything else in their relationship was dead. How could she marry someone who didn’t know how to communicate with her? How could she even think of spending her life with someone who constantly snapped, contradicted and laughed at nearly everything she did? It would surely drive her insane, but the very thought of leaving him made her feel sick. She remembered the way he would stroke her hair, giving her soft kisses when she lay next to him in bed; remember the way he would hold her and make her laugh when she was feeling upset, and yet, all of those beautiful moments were in the past. Their relationship was dying, slowly but surely, and soon there would be nothing left but regret and resentment.
“I can’t live like that…” Hermione whispered to herself, realising that she had finally made up her mind. She wanted her love to be like James and Lily’s, to stand throughout time, and to shine on forever, even in death. Their love was so true, so honest, and Hermione could just feel it in her heart that she and Ron could never be like that, because Harry was right, she could not change him. She would just have to accept that maybe Ron was not the one for her…
OOOO
Harry took a sip of his coffee, his eyes scanning the many papers before him. He had finally finished his training to be an Auror, and was supposed to be working on his first case, but he kept getting distracted. Ron had come in to work that morning the same time as he always did, but he had not said a word to Harry, which was rather odd. Harry was expecting him to complain to him, yell at him; heck, maybe even break down in front of him, but the cool detachment he had shown the whole day to the situation was slightly disturbing. Maybe Hermione was right? Maybe Ron didn’t care?
He glanced over towards Ron’s cubicle, only catching a glimpse of flaming red hair now and then, as Ron shifted about his office area. It just didn’t make sense. Harry knew how much Ron loved Hermione, yet he seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that the woman he was about to marry had broken up with him. Surely he must feel something? Even Harry had been upset when Ginny had broken up with him, and he barely felt anything for her at that point.
“Oi, Potter, Weasley,” Terry Boot called, as he walked past both Harry and Ron’s cubicles. “Make sure you two close down around here, alright? We’re all heading home.”
Harry nodded to show he understood, but Ron merely continued scribbling at his desk. Terry gave Harry a ‘what’s wrong with him look,’ to which Harry merely shrugged. He didn’t think Hermione and Ron would appreciate him sharing their love problems with everyone. Shrugging himself, Terry walked out of the room, followed by a few other Aurors, leaving Harry and Ron alone.
Harry went back to flicking through his papers, only causing a heavy sigh to escape from his lips. He was just too distracted to work, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Ron did it. Glancing at his watch, he realised with a jolt that it was coming up to 7:00pm. He hoped Hermione had been okay at home by herself all day, since he knew it was her day off.
“You can leave if you want,” Ron said quietly, speaking to him for the first time that day. “I’ll close up.”
Harry looked up, meeting his friend’s dark blue eyes, and felt a foreign anger creeping inside him to see the calm expression on Ron’s face. In Harry’s opinion, it was not fair that Hermione should be beating herself over this while Ron remained composed.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.” Harry answered, deciding he had might as well get this conversation over before he went back home to Hermione; at least that way he would know what to say to her if she asked about Ron.
Ron’s eyes flickered with discomfort, and Harry was relieved to see some emotion. It was disconcerting having Ron so calm and collected when he was normally so passionate and fiery about everything.
“Last night I had Hermione turn up on my doorstep looking very distraught,” Harry explained, watching to see Ron’s reaction. “Want to give me a reason as to why she would do this when she is supposed to be your fiancée?”
Ron didn’t disappoint, as his eyes flashed angrily, his lips thinning with frustration. It seemed his composed façade had finally cracked, and now fury laced his expression. “I’m sure she told you all about how horrible I am, and what a useless boyfriend I was,” he said with a snarl. “Don’t stand there pretending you don’t know anything, Harry, because I know she would have cried out her little heart all over your shoulder.”
Harry felt his anger rising, but he kept it in check, knowing that Ron had every right to be angry. “You’re right, she did tell me, but I can’t help but wonder what the hell you are doing sitting here pretending nothing is wrong, when the woman you love has left you. Don’t you think you should be going after her?”
“I don’t love her, and I don’t want anything to do with her!” Ron yelled furiously, though Harry could hear the bitterness in his voice. “She took my heart in her hand and crushed it in her fingers. How the hell can I love her after that?”
“She’s upset!” Harry yelled back just as angrily, finally losing his temper. “You’ve been a real prat to her over the years Ron, and you know you can’t deny it! I’m not saying it is all your fault, but dammit, take some responsibility, because you damn well can’t expect her to come crawling back to you when you are acting like such an idiot!”
“I’m the idiot?” Ron shouted heatedly, standing up to glare at Harry better. “She’s the one who sits there making sheep eyes at every handsome man she meets! She’s the one who nags me over every little thing, and she’s the one who left me in the first place! Don’t you turn this back on me, Harry; don’t you dare try to make this my fault, because you have no idea!”
Ron stepped towards him, his blue eyes glowing with rage. “I don’t care what you say to me, or what she even says; I’m not apologising to her! I’ve done nothing wrong!”
Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger, but he couldn’t help but feel like punching Ron right now. Hermione was busy crying her eyes out over Ron, when here he was saying he had done nothing; never mind the fact that he had forced her to the point of wanting to leave in the first place.
“You’re a fool, Ron.” Harry said softly, his quiet anger coming through. “You’ll never get her back if you can’t swallow your pride now. She loves you, but listening to you, I don’t think you deserve her love.”
“Oh, because you know everything about deserving love, right Harry?” Ron said nastily. “Did you forget how you made my sister cry for months because she just wanted you to show her some affection? Did you forget how your distant behaviour made her look for love somewhere else? If anyone doesn’t deserve love, it’s you Harry, because you don’t know how to love in the first place!”
Harry punched Ron before he could even think of what he was doing. He hadn’t even realised he had stood up. He watched Ron stumble backwards, clutching his face with a furious expression. His eyes were like daggers, but right now Harry didn’t care.
“That’s it!” Ron yelled, propelling himself forward so that he collided hard into Harry’s chest. They fell back into the desks, both of them struggling to punch each other, while shouting insults at the same time. Harry took great satisfaction every time he felt his fist connect with Ron’s body and face, but receiving the same in turn was not as thrilling…
“What the hell are you two doing?” A female voice screeched loudly.
Harry and Ron broke apart, both sporting bruises, and cuts where the skin had split, allowing crimson to splash across their faces. Harry stared at Angelina’s shocked expression and felt a guilty look settle on his face.
“Well, what’s the meaning of all this?” Angelina asked, placing her hands on her hips. Harry sighed and rubbed the blood from his face, chancing a glance at Ron who was still glaring at him mutinously.
“It’s nothing,” Harry muttered, walking to his desk to collect his papers. He couldn’t be bothered arguing anymore. It was clear how Ron felt about this, and there was no way Harry could help someone who believed he had done nothing wrong. Hermione would just have to try and move on, for Harry couldn’t encourage her to go back to someone so immature and cowardly. She was too good for Ron; he could rot in his bitter misery for all Harry cared right now.
“Don’t bother coming to see her because I won’t let you,” Harry said firmly, his eyes narrowing with dislike at Ron. “You’ve hurt her enough without making things worse.”
“Going to play the protective friend for her, Harry?” Ron said mockingly. “Or maybe you’re hoping for something more? I mean, you can’t get a girl any other way, so screwing a poor, vulnerable female should be easy work, huh?”
“Shutup before you make yourself look like an even bigger idiot!” Harry said coldly, giving an angry glance at Angelina who was watching the whole exchange with wide eyes.
Ron smirked slightly, though the bitterness was still in his eyes. “Whatever. Both of you can do what you want; I’ve had enough.”
Harry watched as Ron disapparated, vanishing with a loud crack. He sighed and turned his eyes to Angelina, who was now staring at the spot where Ron had just disappeared.
“Would you mind closing up for me?” Harry asked tiredly, now feeling rather deflated from the whole situation.
Angelina nodded, and Harry disapparated, feeling the world compressing painfully around him before he emerged in his living room. Hermione gasped as soon as she saw him, rushing towards him, her hands automatically reaching to lightly touch the bruises and cuts on his face.
“What happened?” She asked in a worried voice, her honey-brown eyes seeking his own. Harry gently prised her hands from his face and walked to the bathroom, opening the cupboard to find some healing salves. He didn’t feel like telling her what had happened, because it was just as embarrassing for him, as it was Ron.
“Harry, what happened?” Hermione demanded, refusing to be ignored.
Harry sighed and looked at her, the healing salve in his hand. “I got in a fight with Ron,” he said truthfully, a guilty expression on his face.
“Why?” Hermione asked horrified. “Was it because of me?”
Harry walked back into the lounge and collapsed on the couch, unsure of what to say. He knew telling her the whole truth would only make her more upset, and he was too angry to be sympathetic. Ron had hit a nerve with him when he said that he didn’t know how to love. Harry had often wondered that very thing himself, and hearing it from someone who was supposed to be his friend had made it ten times worse.
“Please don’t ignore me, Harry; I have a right to know.” Hermione pleaded, taking a seat next to him on the couch. Harry inwardly sighed, realising she was right.
“I confronted him, and we got into an argument; that’s all.” Harry said dismissively, inwardly praying that she would leave it there. He opened the salve, putting his fingers against the cool cream and started to apply it to his bruises, squinting from the pain, pausing when he felt Hermione take his hand in hers. He looked at her curiously, wondering what she was doing.
“You should really clean those cuts first before you apply the salve,” Hermione said softly, taking the salve from his hands. She summoned a clean cloth towards her, conjuring some water to make it wet so she could clean his cuts. Gently she wiped the blood from his skin, her face mere inches from his. Their eyes met and she gave him a small smile, before placing the cloth down on the couch beside him. She picked up the salve again, dipping her fingers in, before she started to apply the healing cream against his bruises and cuts, her fingers softly brushing against his skin.
Harry stared at her face, as she healed his cuts, the anger he had felt now replaced by only sadness. What would she do when she found out how Ron really felt? What would she do when she found out how stupid he was being, and that her fears had been correct in the fact that he would never change?
“Hermione,” Harry said slowly, wondering how best to phrase what he wanted to say. Hermione stopped her gentle application of the salve and looked at him with a curious expression.
“Yes?”
“Do you think you will ever go back to Ron?”
Hermione frowned, her hand dropping from his face to her side. She stared at her hands, and Harry could practically see the answer forming behind her eyes. Raising her eyes back to him, she gave him a sad smile.
“I love him, as I only could having been with him for four years, and friends with him for even longer.” She began softly, her eyes distant as though remembering past moments. She sighed to herself and resumed putting the salve on his face. “I can’t be with him though. You were right, Harry; Ron will never change. He’s too stubborn, and so am I. Our relationship will only end in tears….”
Harry felt relieved to hear her words. He knew that this time she had truly made up her mind. She had been given time to think, and he was glad that this was her decision. After the spectacle Ron had made of himself at the ministry, Harry would have found it difficult to be nice about Ron to her.
“You’ll get through this Hermione,” Harry said, feeling an odd sense of deja-vu from the night before when he had said similar words.
Hermione smiled and nodded her head, this time really meaning it. “I know I will.”
A/N: Sorry for the typos and stuff. This chapter has not been read over by my beta.
Disclaimer: Everything you recognise isn’t mine.
A/n: It’s been a long time since I updated this one. This chapter is for you, my three anonymous reviewers. I hope you enjoy it. ^_^
Through Thick and Thin
Time passed, and the news soon broke out that Hermione and Ron- that golden couple that had always caught the spotlight thanks to their contribution to the war- were now over. Whispers of betrayal, affairs, and other sordid tales that had been fabricated around the young couple lurked in every café, living room, and goodness knows where else, breathed by the lips of gossip-addicted witches and wizards clutching trashy magazines in their greedy fingers, obsessively discussing all the dirty secrets rumours had spun that were as ridiculous as they were untrue.
“I heard she was sleeping with her boss,” a skeletal looking woman remarked in gushing excitement to a bunch of harpy-looking females sipping coffee as if it were the finest champagne. “Apparently Ronald Weasley found them together in his bed!”
“Well I heard that he was the one having an affair. It runs in the family you know- think of that horrid Ginny Weasley and that poor Harry Potter…”
“Speaking of Harry Potter. Did you know that the Granger wench has taken up with him?”
“You don’t say?”
“I swear it’s true!”
“Oh my, that is simply awful! That poor Ronald Weasley must be so heartbroken to have his friends go together.”
The skeletal woman took a sip of her coffee with her pinkie sticking out delicately, and then gasped and nearly choked on the scolding liquid. She nudged her companions and gestured to a table just a little away from them. There very clearly in their vision was a raven-haired man leading a somewhat pretty brunette to one of the tables near their own.
“Isn’t that?”
“I think it is!”
“Oh my...”
Hermione took her seat on the straight-backed chair, sighing slightly at how very uncomfortable it was. She did not have the perfect posture to sit comfortably in these chairs, having spent most of her life leaning over books in an odd assortment of places. The sudden feeling that she was being watched tingled at her skin, and lifting her eyes she was surprised to see a bunch of women who looked to be in their late thirties all staring at her from over their coffee mugs, identical haughty expressions on their over-painted faces.
“Harry,” she began with a crease on her brow. “I think those women are staring at us.”
Harry followed her gaze to where the women were sitting and let out an exasperated sigh. “Just ignore them Hermione. They’re probably just a bunch of busy-bodies with nothing better to do than stare at people.”
Somehow Hermione didn’t think that was why the women had been staring, but she said nothing all the same and tried to ignore the tingly feeling that kept creeping over her body. She’d heard some of the rumours that circled her of course, and had seen the many curious and sometimes angry glares thrown her way when she ventured into town, but all in all Hermione had decided to ignore the tabloids printing lie after lie about her relationship with Ron, as well as the idiots who believed them. The new rumour that she was with Harry was not one that had come to her ears yet, and if she had known she would have been more than a little annoyed to hear it. Harry was her best friend, and the last thing she wanted was idiots claiming she and Harry were shagging because she was using him as a rebound, or worse that he was taking advantage of her because she had just split up with her fiancée.
“What do you want?” Harry asked, his emerald eyes searching the menu in thoughtful contemplation. It always amused Hermione how men took such a serious fascination in choosing their food, but that thought soon brought a pang of how much Ron had loved food. She could hear in her mind his voice mumbling very incoherently thanks to the amount of food stuffed in his mouth, ‘Food is the only thing that should be taken seriously. You can never be sure if the food will satisfy or not, and I can’t exactly think if I have an empty stomach now can I?’
Angry that she was letting sentimentality get the better of her again, Hermione firmly pushed all thoughts of her ex-fiancée and stared at Harry again. They had met each other on their lunch break to just get a break from the incessant questions thrown their way by friends and co-workers. Even Harry was not safe from the gossip addicts, since most people knew that Hermione was staying with him now and therefore knew he had first-hand knowledge into what was going on. She hoped he would not lose his patience and kick her out, but then she knew she was silly to think of such a thing. Out of everyone Harry had always been the one she could rely on- that was the reason she had turned to him for help after all.
“Hermione?”
“Oh right,” she said with a laugh, and quickly scanned the menu at the delicious food being offered. Nothing seemed to strike her fancy at all. She didn’t have much of an appetite these days in truth, but she was always a practical woman and wasn’t against forcing herself to eat if it came to that. “Just a muffin and a coffee will be good. You know the way I like it, right?”
Harry nodded and stood up to go make their order. Hermione tapped her fingers against the steel table, shifting uncomfortably again against the chair. The sound of catty voices drifted towards her ears, this time coming from a bunch of women her own age on the other side of the café.
“Who does she think she is? Look at her just sitting there as cool as she pleases.”
“What a tart.”
Hermione gripped the table tightly so that her knuckles shone white. She took a deep breath and tried to block out the voices, but it was proving very difficult. She’d had to deal with comments like this before of course, both at Hogwarts by such spiteful students as Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, as well as by people during the aftermath of the war. Everyone had something to say about her, something horrible... but this- this was something she hated. People who didn’t even know her were scorning her because she had broken up with Ron, and it was none of their business at all. They had no idea how much pain she had faced in her relationship with Ron, crying herself to sleep in suffocating silence after one of their infamous rows, watching him leaving her again and again for a ‘break’ when he didn’t want to deal with their problems. She had been hurt so much, and had contemplated leaving so many times, but then he would always come back and hold her in his arms, planting sweet kisses on her lips and smiling and laughing with her to make all her worries melt away. She had tried to keep it going; tried to keep the love burning, but the pain and anger was too much. The bad times started outweighing the good, and finally she had snapped. These people had no idea of any of that, and it made her furious to hear their snide comments made so freely, knowing that not any of them understood what had happened at all.
“Did you hear that she’s staying with Harry Potter?” One of the girls said in her spitefully mocking voice. “Mariah- she’s a close friend of mine- works with Harry you know… Anyway, Mariah was telling me that she sometimes comes and visits him at the office, actually flaunting their relationship in front of her ex!”
“I bet they shag in the office when no one else is around,” the catty voice said snidely, and then in a burst of inspiration, “I bet they shag on her ex’s desk!”
Malicious laughter drifted to her ears, and Hermione could feel her face heating with rage and embarrassment. How dare those people say these things about her! About Harry! She’d never even thought about Harry in that way, and there was no way she’d ever have sex with anyone on any desk, let alone in the office. She had a bit more decency than that. Just who did they think she was? Better yet, who the hell did they think they were?
Fuming silently to herself, Hermione forced herself to not listen anymore to the obnoxious women, but her teeth still gritted in frustration. She just hated how her life seemed to be plastered for all the world to see, and even worse, for all the world to mock. Couldn’t she have any privacy at all? Couldn’t she ever be allowed to live her life without nosy people butting in and making stupid jokes about her?
Harry came back over and sat down on his chair opposite her, emerald eyes falling on her in some concern. “You all right?” he asked quietly, reaching out a hand to grasp hers that rested on the table.
Hermione stared at his hand closed over hers, her throat feeling hard and sore, as if something had got stuck inside it and would not be budged. This was just perfect, she felt like she was going to cry. Her eyes were burning, her breathing was quickening in that awful way that made her feel short of breath, and she could feel a moistness gathering at her well-exercised tear-ducts. Feeling so vulnerable only made her angrier. Where had that strong woman gone? Where had her pride vanished? Had breaking up with Ron really stripped her of everything? Was she really going to break down again because people were stupid? No… it wasn’t sadness that made her so upset right now. She realised she was just tired of it all. Tired of being mocked, tired of being the one who always was in the wrong. She was so angry; so sick and tired of it all…
“Hermione, what’s wrong?”
She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and shook her head, one hand coming to rest over her eyes where she could already feel the dampness of tears pressing into her skin.
“How about we go, okay?”
“No,” she managed to get out in a weak voice thanks to the constricting feeling in her throat. “We’ve already paid for our food and-”
“Hermione you’re upset,” Harry interrupted firmly, gently pulling her hand away from her face with his free hand to meet her glistening, tear-filled eyes. There in those emerald green eyes she could see his quiet gentleness, and that simple reassurance that he’d take care of her. A breath of relief shot through her to learn that she was not alone in this, sending a gentle warmth to fill her body that was sweetly comforting. She didn’t know what she’d do without him; half the time she didn’t even know what she had done to deserve him as a friend. He was so good to her, and though it had never always been that way, as they had grown older he had stepped up into being the person she trusted and respected the most. He had his own problems, but he was always ready to drop whatever he was doing and help her. It was like their roles had reversed somehow- as if he had taken on her role as comforter and guide that she had been to him throughout the war. She needed him so much… just he had always needed her.
“C’mon, I’ll take you back to the house.”
“Okay,” she conceded, knowing that right now all she did want to do was get away from this café and away from these people. Harry’s home had become a sort of sanctuary for her over this past week- a place where she could get away from everything and just feel secure and free from judging eyes.
He smiled nicely at her, releasing her hands and standing up. She did the same, feeling bad for pulling him away from his lunch, but glad at the same time that he was willing to forgo food for the sake of comforting her. If it were Ron who had been sitting at the table, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed she had been upset, and though it was a harsh judgment, it was the truth as well. Why hadn’t she seen before how very wrong they were for each other?
Harry took her hand in his again, the action so natural for him to do that Hermione thought nothing of it, and led her out of the café. The streets of Diagon Alley were bustling with people going about their daily shopping, all too caught up in their own lives to spare a glance for two people standing on the cobbled footpath outside a very normal café. Hermione stared at him questioningly for a moment, and his eyes once more found hers. He was not much taller than her, and she had always liked the fact of how comfortable it was to meet his eyes. At first it had been rather odd for her to look up at him, so used to the fact of meeting his gaze directly during their school years, but he had grown during the war, and sadly she had stayed much the same. She was by no means short though, sitting nicely at average height.
“I suppose we can just disapparate.”
Hermione nodded, and both of them pulled out their wands and vanished with a small pop before reappearing in Harry’s flat, which was now much cleaner since Hermione had started living there. He led her silently to the same cosy couch they had sat on only seven days ago when she had first came to his home, pulling her down gently with her onto the seat and meeting her eyes with that same concerned expression that was always so warm and comforting.
“So what happened? One minute you were fine and then…” he trailed off and looked at her steadily, she herself frowning down at her lap. This would be hard to explain without blushing furiously. Somehow bringing up sex with Harry (especially about a rumour that he and her were having sex) made her very embarrassed; it was not just about that though. The very fact she could hear people judging her for her actions just made her so upset and angry.
“Well I…” She broke off, swallowed hard, and tried again. “I heard some of the people in the café talking, and well…” She scrunched up her face, trying to think of how best to phrase this.
“Yeah?” Harry prompted.
“Well they were calling me names because I had broken up with Ron and-” Dear Merlin she could feel her face heating again. She hoped it was only the faint tinges of pink and not that awful blotchy red that splattered her whole face and looked like a tomato had been thrown at it- “And, well…” She shook her head in frustration and met his gaze with helpless and embarrassed brown eyes. “Oh, Harry, there are rumours going around that you and I are seeing each other, and everyone thinks I’ve been shagging you in your office, and that we’re doing this just to spite Ron, and I’m just so sick of all these stupid rumours, and all these stupid, stupid people always saying spiteful nasty things about me!”
Harry blinked, faint surprise flittering across his face, but then he just looked angry, with his emerald eyes narrowing distantly, as if glaring at something she could not see. Somehow he didn’t seem as surprised by this as she had, and she had to wonder if he had known about this.
“Did you- did you already know about this?”
Harry shook his head, his face still set in that terribly grim expression. “No, but I remember something Ron had said to me…” he broke off suddenly, turning his face back to her with not a trace of his previous anger, his expression becoming calm and reassuring. “Don’t worry about it Hermione. You know what people are like, and you know this isn’t the first time they’ve accused us of seeing each other. People are always ready to think the worst of any situation.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh, “I just… I just hate it that they’re making me out to be some mercenary slut.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm but reassuring squeeze. She could just feel the comfort sweeping through her at the simple touch and felt the tenseness in her body leaving, instinctively leaning into him in the hopes of immersing herself in that soothing feeling.
“Hermione,” Harry said softly, eyes firmly locked on hers. “What matters is that you know what’s really going on. You’re stronger than this. Remember it was always you who told me to just ignore it and continue on with my life when they said all that stuff about me?” He smiled and used his free hand to brush the strands of brown hair away from her face. “Don’t disappoint me now by not listening to your own advice.”
She couldn’t help but smile, not just because it was just like him to say something like that to comfort her, but also because he had remembered her advice, even though it had been so many years ago.
“You’re right. I need to just ignore it… I just wish people would leave me alone sometimes.”
He smiled again and pulled her into a one armed hug, leaning his head lightly on top of hers. “It’s okay to be frustrated. I think anyone would be annoyed by those things, but you just have to move on.”
She nodded and leaned into him more, a deep breath escaping from her lips. He was right of course. She just had to suck it up and keep moving forward with her life. People always had something nasty to say, and Harry was right that the important thing was that she knew the truth. Of course it would be frustrating, but she couldn’t let them bring her down. She had enough depressing thoughts at the moment without adding that to it.
“Thanks Harry. You always seem to know how to cheer me up.”
He smiled and held her just that little bit closer. “That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”
She lifted her face and met his gaze with her own smile. “I guess. I only hope I can do the same for you then.”
Laughing slightly, he nodded his head. “You do more than enough for me, Hermione. Out of everyone I think it is you who has always kept me going. I have a lot to be grateful for from you.”
She smiled again and snuggled more into him, just happy to be close to him. She knew she would have to go back to work soon; back to where people would stare and mutter behind her back, but for now she was in his arms and safe. For now she was free from everything that bothered her and could just feel happy.
“Thanks Harry…”
OOO
Harry sat down at his desk, a small smile still lingering on his face. He was glad that he had prompted Hermione to confide in him. It seemed like every day they were becoming more closer than ever, and it had never really struck him before how much he truly enjoyed her company. At school there had always been things going on, and they were so young that he knew he was guilty of being unappreciative of all that Hermione was and all that she did for him. Now he really appreciated her, and could look back and see the sacrifices and support she had always given him. He did want to return the favour, but that was not the reason why he was trying so hard to help Hermione in this difficult time. He wanted to see her happy all the time; he wanted her to never have to worry about anything, and because of that he was willing to give all and everything he had if only to see her smile.
This week had been hard for her, and it had pained him to see her struggle just as he was sure it pained her. People had made up every nasty rumour possible, and he knew it had been dragging her down. Once the tabloids had found out about the break up they had gone wild with articles on her relationship and how it had ended. Ron didn’t seem to be trying to help the matter either, though Harry had heard that Ron had threatened to hex one of the reporters if they kept pestering him.
“Ron…” Harry sighed and placed his head in his hands. Their friendship had been torn because of their conversation, or rather argument, the other day. Harry didn’t even want to talk to him, and it seemed Ron had no desire to make amends either. There was a rift between them, and this time they didn’t have Hermione to play mediator. He wasn’t sure if Ron had talked to Hermione yet. He had come home to find the rest of Hermione’s stuff in his house, but Hermione had not said a word about it, and seemed to prefer to not talk about Ron at all. It seemed everyone was avoiding the other; all too angry and upset to really confront each other and sort out what was going on. Harry was afraid of what would happen once everything boiled over and there were no places to hide anymore. One thing he did know though was that he would stand by Hermione no matter what. Ron had his family to support him in this, but Hermione was left all alone. Harry would not abandon her just because it was the easy option out. He’d had the choices of choosing between friends before, and this time he knew which was the right option. His heart would not allow him to leave her stranded, and in truth he had no desire to anyway.
Pulling his hands away from his face, he picked up his quill and once more started working on his case. He could see Ron over in his cubicle, and for a moment their eyes met, but neither showed any recognition that they knew each other at all. That was how things were at the moment, and though it hurt Harry sometimes, he could only hope that time would close the gap between them, just as time would heal Hermione’s heart. Already things seemed to be looking up for her, and though she was still struggling it seemed like the emotional load was lessening on her shoulders. He’d just keep doing what he could for her the best he could until then.
‘Hang in there, Hermione.’
A/N: I know I’m making Ron seem like such a git, but he’s not really that bad. It’s just because you’re only seeing this from Harry and Hermione’s point of view. Just wanted to throw that out there. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know I’m not spectacular at writing H/Hr fics so I always feel a bit ‘meh’ about all my chapters, but ah well, if you enjoy it that’s the main thing.