Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Author's note: Wow thanks for all the amazing reviews guys! I know you guys are probably getting sick of short chapters but I'm having trouble getting some of my other chapters onto this computer from my old one. It doesn't have internet and this doesn't have floppy discs so I'm a bit stuck for the moment. With that in mind it might be a few more days, a week tops till I get chapter 4 up k? But yeah, thanks everyone for all the help it means a lot! OH! And don't forget we still need a story title Well onto the story!
Chapter 3
Hermione didn't cry. She wouldn't let herself. She needed to stay strong for him. He needed the strong, rational and brave Hermione. Not the torn, broken and weak Hermione. She needed to be there for her Harry. She could feel his pain, and as it mixed with her own she was amazed at herself for keeping it together. He seemed to have sensed she needed him also as he held her tighter. Harry ran his hands in idle circles across her back, soothing her, helping her stay strong.
When he finally stopped crying, he held her closer for a few more moments. They released each other and Hermione smiled down at him. They weren't okay. But Harry was okay. She was okay. They would be okay. He smiled back. He faltered when he noticed her eyes didn't possess the same knowing, warm sparkle they used to. To everyone else but Harry she seemed perfectly fine. Even her cheeks were a nice warm pink. Actually they seemed more red. They were! She was blushing! But why? Then he noticed her gaze flicker down to her chest, where he had forgotten she wasn't wearing a shirt!
"Harry," She began. "Why am I not wearing a shirt?" For a few moments he just stammered and made an admirable impersonation of a fish out of water.
"I had to take it off?" He flushed furiously. Hermione just raised her brow and smirked in amusement.
"I realize that Harry, but why?" he gaped at her, trying his best not to look below her chin.
"Uh... Be-because you had a cut on y-your shoulder and I needed to clean it but it kept going under your shirt s-so I had t-to take it off and clean it. And you were sort of out of it but I kind of asked you if it was okay and you kind of nodded and so I did. I didn't take advantage or anything cause well why would I? Oh! I don't mean it like that! You have a very attractive body I-I just mean to say that you … Oh bloody hell!" Hermione just kept on laughing at him. He seemed so lost and confused. Like the teenage boy he is instead of the man he always seems to be. He knew he had been rambling and she knew he only did it when he was cornered and nervous. He realized then that that was exactly why she had done it. He began laughing right along side her as she doubled over clutching her shirt. When they finally settled down she pulled her shirt back on and helped him to his feet. She turned around to help Ron up also until she realized he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere anymore. He would never be there anymore to laugh with them. Or even cry and fight with them. He was gone forever. The entire reality hit her then. Ron was gone. He was never coming back. He wouldn't bicker with her; he wouldn't be there for her to nag at when he didn't do his homework. He wouldn't be keeper again next year or beat anyone at chess anymore. Ron was dead.
Harry seemed to have comprehended what was going through her mind. He wanted to hold her close and tell her everything would be okay. He knew however, that she also needed this. She needed to know he was never coming back to them, needed to cry and let out whatever was building within her. Otherwise she would just become that hollow, inferi-like version of herself. He couldn't let her become that again. He knew inside that she didn't want to be that person. She wanted to fight, wanted to help him and be there for him. For now he'd let her, but should it become too hard or too dangerous, he'd protect her. He'd keep her safe and as far away from harm as he possibly could. Even if that meant she would also have to be far away from him. Right now though, she needed the pain and so he let her hurt. He was tearing himself apart but it needed to be done.
Hermione's breathe was knocked out of her at her own realization. When Harry told her, she still hadn't fully grasped the concept of no more Ron. Harry needed her right after and she pushed it aside. She pushed Ron aside for Harry. Just as he had pushed her aside for her safety. Ron had tackled her. Tackled her away from the curse that was meant for her. He died for her. It was her fault he was dead! That more than anything else knocked her off her feet. She fell to her knees with her hands over her mouth.
"Harry! I killed him! I killed Ron! It's my fault he's dead! It's entirely my fault! I killed one of my best friends! Oh Merlin!" She kept up her self loathing words as the tears he had been waiting for streamed down her cheeks at a rapid pace. As her sobs and screams filled the room. It was too much for Harry and he dropped to her side and held her to him. She pushed him away and he fell to his back. "Get away from me before I get you killed too! Go now! Please Harry leave me to rot! I don't deserve to live! I killed him! He jumped in front of the curse Harry! That curse was meant for me and he just jumped in front and died!"
"And I would have too! I would live a million years under the cruciatus curse to keep you safe Hermione!" She spun around to him, eyes blazing furiously!
"That's exactly my point Harry! You would kill your own self to protect me! I would get you killed too! I can't let you do that! No! I won't! So you need to stay away from me! Go!" He knew he should leave then, before she got any angrier, or any more insane (she couldn't possibly believe he'd leave her alone for one second could she?). He knew if he didn't want her ever hurt by Voldemort and his cronies he should leave. He knew he should at least leave her to calm down. He turned to leave, intending on coming back to her later, but he stopped. An image came to the front of his mind. A scar, very much like his own but larger. He recalled it looking painful. He should leave, to protect her, to let her calm down, to keep her from receiving the same fate as Ron. Yes, he knew all of these things, but he couldn't move. He couldn't leave her not like this; in fact he didn't think he could ever leave her. She'd done so much for him, been through so much for him. He could never leave her.
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