Learning to Be
Viopathartic
I'm trying to imagine this chapter in a movie scene. You know, like the pictures in your head? Never mind, I'm crazy so don't listen to me. I'm working on writing in detail so this is a test drive. My other fics usually have dialogue so I'm attempting (key word) to change it a bit. It actually turned out to be longer than I expected…
Enjoy.
Chapter 2:
Dudley sat on the high bar stool in his kitchen with his head bowed down. He wished they had some rum in stock, but Ally had apparently given their last bottle to their friends when they attended a party. Instead, he settled with a mug of steaming, hot coffee.
His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the idea that Mary, his innocent and beautiful daughter, was a…witch.
A witch! What a word to describe little Mary. She was four and already in love with puppies. She loved butterflies, the color pink, and was in love with Barbies. So how is it that she can be a witch?
The next problem that left Dudley with an unsettling feeling was how to break it to Ally.
Ally knew nothing about his cousin. Nothing about his world. In fact, she had only met Dudley's parents and none of his other family. His Aunt Marge refused to speak to him ever again when he declined her choice of wife. The lady she picked for him was four years his senior and seemed to be an Aunt Marge in making. The woman had five dogs already! Dudley didn't really care that he no longer spoke to Aunt Marge; the only reason he "liked" her was because she spoiled him with gifts when he was younger.
That was another part of his childhood that Dudley disliked. If only his mother was less coddling and actually gave him independence, he wouldn't have had to experience the bad things on his own.
"Mary fell asleep pretty quickly," a soft voice announced from behind Dudley.
He twisted in his stool and faced Ally, his wife.
She was a beauty; it was a wonder how someone as angelic as her could fall in with Dudley Dursley, childhood bully of Privet Drive. Her hair, which Mary inherited, was a lush brown and was cut short to her shoulders. It used to be long, and Dudley remembered how he used to run a hand through it when the two of them were studying or sitting next to each other. But one day, Ally announced that she was "tired of wrestling" with her hair in the morning and returned with nearly three inches off.
Like her husband, Ally used to be an athlete-a star track runner, in fact. He and she would exercise together sometimes; of course, their time was limited because of Mary. Her figure was flawless to Dudley. No one would be able to tell that she had been pregnant for 9 months. Her height was neither tall nor short as many women in the world, but her shape and size were just right.
She just came home from work and had already changed into her home clothes-a pair of sweats and a pink long-sleeve shirt.
Dudley heard her sigh. "Dudley, what happened? She was bawling when she came home."
Of course, he knew Ally would ask. She was always so protective of Mary. "Ah…well, these boys came and told her to get off the swings. She didn't want to and-"
Ally was instantly alert and demanded, "Did they hurt her?"
Dudley nervously scratched the back of his head. "Uh…no. I guess you can say that she…hurt them."
An expression of confusion was seen on his wife's face. "Mary? Our Mary?" Ally smiled slightly, despite the situation. She never supported violence and completely forbade it from occurring in the house, but learning that her little four-year-old was strong enough to go against boys brought some pride. "Really?"
Her husband slowly nodded, but he didn't say much. In fact, he seemed extremely upset and jumpy.
"Darling, what is it?"
"Did you ever think that Mary was…different?"
Ally's forehead wrinkled. She leaned her hip against the counter and slowly bent over so that her elbows were on the top. Now she was right across from her husband. Dudley was tentatively drawing doodles with his hand and was not looking straight at her.
"What do you mean by the word 'different'? I mean, sure she's pretty smart for her age-"
"I know that, love, but-" Dudley sighed, frustrated.
"Dudley?" Why was her husband so troubled?
He had his head bowed in his hands. Ally approached her husband and wrapped her arms around his midsection. She rested her chin on his left shoulder-something that she knew comforted him. "Darling," she whispered.
"Promise me," he muttered, his voice low and uneven, "you will listen first. You can act whatever way you want later on, but I ask you to just listen."
"Dudley," Ally murmured softly, removing her arms so that she can sit on a stool beside him. Once she got seated, she placed both hands on his. This moment seemed crucial for him; she had never seen him so worried about her reaction.
"Just promise," he said in a strangled voice.
Instead of answering, Ally leaned forward and planted a soothing kiss on his cheek.
Dudley let out a deep breath and ran both hands through his hair. He gulped one time and then, as if he finally decided, he cleared his throat and sat up straighter.
"When I was little and living with Mum and Dad, someone else lived with us. I've never told you about him, but I've lived with him practically for my whole life. He was my cousin," began Dudley. "We never really got along because I made his life miserable. I was a stupid, spoiled brat-"
"No, you-"
Dudley looked at his wife. "You met me when I was 'grown' but never when I was growing up."
Ally smiled slightly and her husband returned the gesture. She whispered encouragingly, "Go on."
"Anyways, I was mean prat. I made his life miserable, both at home and at school. I made everyone turn against him because…God, I don't think I even remember why," he paused. Then he added, "Well…actually, it started with my parents. They hated him from the day they took him in."
"Took?" His wife asked curiously.
"His parents died in a car---I mean…we'll talk about that later on. Basically, my mum was the only living relative of my cousin's mom. His name is Harry, see. My parents didn't like them because my mum didn't like her sister."
"How can you not-"
"Ally," Dudley said firmly.
His wife smiled apologetically and shrugged. "You know me. Sorry, no more interruptions."
"Thank you, darling. Okay, my parents-and don't think less of them in any way-oh never mind, you hate them already-my parents made Harry do all the chores in the house once he was old enough. They always gave him my clothes when I outgrew them-I was a bit chubby back then-and they would end up being 5 times bigger than his size. My mum refused to buy him any clothes and the only thing she had ever bought him was glasses. Circular spectacles that made him look like an owl, frankly…and my parents also," Dudley hesitated, "put him a cupboard."
"Wait! So they basically abused him?" Ally exclaimed, forgetting her promise to not say anything else. Dudley mentally shook his head; he should have known. Now he might as well explain in more detail. He took on a somber expression and answered truthfully, "Yes."
"They should've just put him in a doghouse!"
Dudley winced. Dad did say that once. But he didn't say it out loud to Ally.
"Your parents? But what about you?"
Dudley shrugged. "I was alright. Harry got the worse of it."
"Poor Harry," Ally breathed, looking greatly downcast. Her husband squeezed her hand that was in his and smiled.
"It only lasted until he was eleven. He was a small boy for eleven years. Never complained. Extremely quiet. But on his birthday, he was saved."
"Finally! Social Services actually have brains," muttered Ally. Without realizing it, she was forgetting how Dudley's story related to their daughter. Her husband never really talked about his past and never mentioned Harry. Ally understood why; he must have been ashamed. She scowled. She never liked his parents. The only reason why they visited the Dursleys was to let Mary see her grandparents.
Then again, they never asked if Mary enjoyed seeing Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.
"No. Social Services didn't take him away. A school did."
Ally, not expecting that answer, asked, "Why?"
"Harry was special."
"Needed?"
"No," and Dudley couldn't help but chuckle. "He was far from special needed. He was 'special' because he was able to do think that other people couldn't."
He sneaked a look at his wife and saw that she was staring at him intently. He knew that Ally was never a patient one and decided that it was time to tell her the whole truth.
"Harry was a wizard. That was why he was special and that was why he went to the school," Dudley explained in a rush. He tensed and gripped his mug of coffee tighter, awaiting Ally's reaction. What was she going to say? After a minute, he wondered if she had even heard him.
"Ally?" he asked tentatively, daring not to look at her.
Again, he waited for about five seconds. Then Dudley heard her voice which sounded unsure and-he realized with a tight heart-a bit doubtful.
"Dudley-"
"I'm not going crazy, if that's what you think. No, he was a wizard. Not one of those fairy tale types, but this was real. He had a wand. He had books that taught witchcraft. He even had an owl!"
"Weren't they supposed to have black cats?" Ally asked without thinking.
He answered in the same manner. "Yeah, I thought of that too, but I guessed it was different for wizard."
Silence came as expected, awkward and tense. Dudley always thought the kitchen was the loudest room in the whole house. Odd, people would usually say their living room or their kid's room. It was different for the family of three. Ally was an executive chef at their neighborhood's finest restaurant, and she always brought work home. Her cooking was absolutely phenomenal but still healthy. Dudley used to joke that her cooking was mainly why he married her. Around dinnertime, it would seem as if all of the appliances turned on. Ally would use the stove, while using the microwave, or she might use the blender and the meat skinner. The kitchen came alive when Ally cooked.
Now, however, the room was silent without the noises of the appliances.
"So…" Ally hesitantly began, "you're cousin was a wizard, and he went to school for…wizards."
"Yeah…" Dudley couldn't say anything else so he took a sip of his coffee that had cooled during their conversation.
His wife opened her mouth, intending on saying something. Then she closed it, rethinking her next words.
"Why did you tell me this?"
"Because Mary's one too. A witch, suppose."
Wow. That wasn't that hard.
"What?" Her question came out in a shocked whisper.
"She did magic. When I said that she hurt the boys at the park, I didn't mean physically with her own hands. She…well, she froze the boy."
"What…you mean, zap?" Ally inquired, making a motion with her hands.
"No, she didn't seem to know what she was doing. It just happened," Dudley shrugged, no knowing what else to say.
This was what he was afraid of.
Dudley lived with his parents and saw how they treated Harry. When he was little, he constantly wondered "why?" Why didn't they buy him tons of toys like they did for him? Why didn't they give him chocolate cake for dessert? Why didn't he have his own room for playthings? When he learned that his cousin was magical, he knew that his parents hated Harry for being different. He was weird; he was a freak. They never loved or accepted him like parents should do with a child.
Dudley was afraid; god, he was terrified that Ally would turn into his parents. He didn't want her to hate Mary because of what she was. She was still a child., still their precious child. But he knew that this-magic and witches and wizards-might change it all.
Now he regretted his decision. Ally would surely never want to associate with him or Mary again.
"Did you…know that Mary was…a witch?" Ally quietly asked. Dudley tried to distinguish the expressions on his wife's face, but she kept it solid, blank so that no one could read her.
"No," he answered quickly, "she did magic for the first time today. I never knew that she could even be a witch. But I suppose that magic runs differently than genetic material…"
"Oh."
That one word caused tears to prickle at the corners of Dudley's eyes. That simple expression conveyed his wife's shock, discomfort, and-Dudley was sure-disgust.
He couldn't take it. Whatever she was going to say next, he didn't want it to be something that would make him hate her.
So, he said to her the one thing that his mother should have said to his father upon the discovery that Harry was a wizard. One sentence that could have freed Harry from Vernon Dursley's abuse, from a life without love.
"If you don't' want this, if-if you don't want your daughter to be some sort of witch…leave then. Please," he managed to say in an even voice. Dudley refused to glance at his wife, for it would break his barrier. It would break him.
"What are you saying?"
Dudley gasped at the sharp tone. He felt his wife drawing herself closer to him.
"How-how can you say that?" Ally asked incredulously. It sounded as if she was going to cry. "How can I abandon Mary, my daughter, my baby? How can I abandon you?"
"I-"
"What you just told me is…unbelievable…I'm shocked, to say at the least, but I would never-" Ally couldn't seem to speak anymore. First, she found out that her four-year-old was a witch and next, before she could even recover, her husband told her that it was okay, that it was understandable if she left. Her mind was running wild as if it was trying to keep up with the events.
"Y-You're not going to leave? You…believe me?" Dudley asked her cautiously.
"Hell no for the first question and I don't know for the second. I mean…magic? It exists? Why haven't we ever heard about it? Don't we live on the same planet as the, um, magical people?"
All Dudley could do was stare at his beautiful….magnificent wife. His best friend, his love, and his soul mate…
…she was going to stay! Even after he told her the truth, Ally remained in the kitchen and was actually asking him questions. Dudley felt his chest tightening and a wave of euphoria, of love swept through his body.
"Dudley!"
He shook his head, tears of happiness just a second from falling. "Sorry, what?"
"The magical people…where do they-"
"Oh! Well, I don't know," Dudley answered truthfully. "I never asked about Harry's world, bur I'm pretty sure it's on earth. Maybe a different place but…I know that they have a government."
"Really? So there's a lot?"
"Yeah, I guess. It's called the Ministry of Magic, but Harry used to hate it for some reason…."
"Wow," murmured Ally, summarizing everything in just one word. "What are you-I mean, what are we going do about Mary? Obviously we'll have to tell her and I'm sure she's going to be ecstatic, but we don't know anything about magic!"
Dudley nodded, now focusing on his next move. "I know what we have to do."
"What?"
"Visit Harry."
Despite Ron's complaints, the Trio did not have an outing at the strip club. Instead, they decided to go to
relatively casual restaurant in the heart of London.
As Harry tied his shoes in his room, he couldn't help but marvel at the sudden change of dynamics in his, Ron, and Hermione's relationship. His friends just broke up, in yet the mood had never been more relaxing for Harry. Ron and Hermione exchanged a few funny words and laughed it off as if they were just friends and not former snog mates.
Harry couldn't pin point his feelings on this. For one, he was relieved that the tension was gone for the moment. But he was also confused. A breakup should not be this easy-especially one occurring between Hermione and Ron. Harry actually expected a violent yelling match, but instead, he came home to laughter and books.
It was odd, but he supposed he would just have to talk to each of them separately to get the real deal.
"Ready?" A soft voice asked from behind.
Harry turned around to see his female best friend. She wore her hair half up and half down in a half-horse or whatever it was called…
She switched her slacks for a sophisticated dress in light blue (her favorite color, he noted) which was sleeveless with cross-back spaghetti straps. In the past years, Harry noticed that Hermione was becoming more aware of makeup and such, but she still did not overload. Her cheeks had a bit of blush which made her look flustered in a cute way.
"You look nice," Harry commented truthfully.
Hermione smiled widely. "Thank you." She faced the door-length mirror that hung on the back of Harry's door and examined herself. "My mum actually bought this for me. Still new even though it's from two years ago…"
"Hermione," Harry began slowly, though he knew that the time wasn't right. She turned around and spotted an expression on her friend's face that only she could recognize. She then reached out to squeeze his hand.
"I'll explain later," Hermione said, smiling softly.
Harry nodded and sighed. The two friends released hands, each content with their short exchange of words.
Harry glanced once in the mirror and tried to flatten his hair, but of course, it did not work. Hermione laughed and playfully messed it up even more. Her friend smacked away her hands and grumbled.
Ron met the two in the corridor. The men of 52 Forest Wood Road were actually quite well dressed. Ron had on a casual three button navy blazer that was expertly (and magically) tailored with a newly refined lapel and a soft shoulder. To finish the outfit, he also wore khaki pants and a red tie that was neither sophisticated nor childish. It was purely Ron.
Along with his signature glasses came Harry's signature uncontrollable hair. His outfit was simple, yet it would probably make girls drool after him. He wore a classic faded jean with a comfortable, light white sweater. All of his clothes fit now ever since Hermione and Ginny bought him a life's supply of outfits. Harry wasn't that picky, but he really liked the outfits, like the one he was wearing, which Hermione chose.
"So…what's the restaurant called?"
"Sophistiqué," supplied Hermione as they walked around their house and to the backyard. They were heading for the apparition point.
"Sophisticated? Sounds…sophisticated," Ron eloquently said. Harry snickered.
"The name is completely the opposite of what the place really is. It's a restaurant but at a certain hour it turns into a nice club."
"Club? Hermione Granger is bringing us to a club? Is she trying to spoil our innocence?" Ron asked, pretending to be shocked.
" 'Fraid that was done years ago, Ron," said Harry.
"It's a nice one. It is a club but it's not as crowded and barbarous," Hermione answered exasperatedly.
Sophistiqué was obviously popular; Hermione had to make reservations. When they arrived in London, the Trio walked past the waiting line, spoke to the hostess, and immediately got in. Harry could feel the waiting people glaring at them.
The interior walls were painted a royal red with golden linings. The floor was carpeted with the color of a spotless white. There were no messes on the floor, surprisingly. The tables were mahogany and seated up to five in each. More would require two tables to be pushed together. The center of the room was the main dining area, while the back, as Hermione out, was the "club".
It was a small confined place, but there was still enough room for dancing. A music stand was in place with microphones and all sorts of electronics to surround it. Harry had a feeling that there would be some karaoke. He just hoped they weren't horrible. Ron happily noted the bar where people were already sitting around.
The three of them were seated rather quickly. The waitress attending to Harry, Hermione, and Ron went by the name Cassidy and smiled widely at them. She seemed to be genuine. They ordered their drinks (soda pop, lemonade with a decent amount of sugar, and a light beer-but surely was going to get heavier by the end of the evening).
The three friends passed the time by chatting about their work life. Harry's training was brutal but was not as bad as the beginning. Ron, who was a Quidditch strategist, raved (quietly since there were muggles around) about the newest member to one of the top Quidditch teams. It was obvious that he loved his job. Harry and Hermione were not that surprised when he announced his occupation. It combined his love of Quidditch and ability to strategize moves (he was rather good at chess). He even got to attend the Chudley Cannons practices. Hermione shrugged and said that her classes at Oxford were pleasant.
They ordered their foods and were served in a few minutes. Their entrees were delicious, they said, and eventually, they finished after about an hour (the three talked in between about mindless topics).
It was dessert time when the stage in the back was suddenly occupied by the DJ. He announced, loudly and enthusiastically, "Anyone who wants to sing can take the stage. Club will be open in five minutes." The guests applauded and the pleasant atmosphere of Sophistiqué suddenly changed to one of seductiveness and excitement. Music from the stereo began to play. It was a pop song; Harry was sure of it. However, with his lack of interest in music, the name of the artist slipped from his mind.
Harry noticed that the room was getting more crowded. Some of the tables were moved to the side so that the dancing room expanded. The lights dimmed and were replaced by more colorful shades. The noise level increased and more laughter and giggles (product of alcohol consumption) rang in the air.
Hermione excused herself to go to the bathroom and left Ron and Harry alone at their table.
When Ron burped and forgot to apologize, he turned to Harry and said, "Be right back."
Instantly, Harry was left alone at the table, wondering where 2/3 of the Trio had disappeared to. He didn't get to ponder too much because Ron returned a minute or so later. He was grinning wickedly when he sat down, and Harry was suddenly reminded of his twin brothers Fred and George.
"What did you do?" He asked somberly, looking around the room.
Ron laughed and took a long gulp of his light beer. Harry punched him by the shoulders.
"Alright, I told the guy that Herms is going to sing," announced Ron who turned to Harry and expected him to laugh. However, Harry knew what their female friend thought of singing and made a face.
"She's not going to like that-"
"C'mon, she's having fun. A bit of karaoke won't hurt," Ron said, waving a hand at Harry while taking another swig of his beer. "Muggle beer is actually pretty good…"
A few minutes later, Hermione came back with a grumpy look on her face. She approached the Trio's table and pulled her chair back to sit down, mumbling, "Those sodding, horny bastards…"
"What happened?" Harry asked, amused that she would mutter such horrid things.
"Some guys wouldn't let me get through to the bathroom so I had to cause a bit of harm."
"Should we call the ambulance? I remember when you sent those bloody birds at me," Ron said, causing his ex-girlfriend to glare at him. He merely smiled, knowing that Hermione didn't care about what he said to her anymore.
"Magic and abuse do not solve everything," she spoke, "but manipulation of the situation does. Apparently their girlfriends were in the bathrooms. When they came out, I slapped the two guys and faked a scene. That in turn caused the guys to earn four more slaps-and claws too-from their girlfriends."
Bringing her beverage to her lips, Hermione shrugged. "Problem solved."
Both of the men laughed, marveling at how manipulating their once innocent friend had become
"Well, since you're in a good mood," Ron said, even though she was not, "I have more news."
Harry really didn't want to see this.
Their female friend raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What?"
"Guess what?"
"Chicken's arse. Ronald, we already went over this."
"Well, you're going to be singing in thirty minutes, on stage, in front of everyone," he finally revealed, smiling ridiculously.
Harry watched closely as Hermione's whole back stiffened. She moved nothing, save for her eyes which were glaring daggers at his best mate. Suddenly, the background music changed from a nice, slow song to one with tearing guitars, fast beating drums, and the sound of looming death.
Ironic.
She finally took a calm sip of her pink lemonade and set it down with maddening composure. Then she leaned back in her chair and noted innocently, "Ron, do remember that I occupy a room right next to yours-"
"-I already knew that, Herms-" Ron inserted, amused. Harry knew that Ron was just digging himself a deeper hole.
"-and can enter your room at night-"
"-Muggle locks are pretty awesome-"
"-and that I happen to be a witch-"
"-replace the 'w' with a 'b' and you'll find out what you really are-"
"-and therefore, I'm quite talented at unlocking charms and hexes that could cause you to bleed or subject you to a night filled with pain," finished Hermione, who then smiled sweetly.
Harry was pleased (though he felt guilty later) to see Ron pale considerably.
"Um…I'll just tell him…you're not going to-" he trailed off and slowly backed away from his ex. After seeing his friend scurrying away, Harry burst out laughing. Hermione lifted her chin defiantly, as if she was daring someone else to have a go at her.
"Was Ron always scared of you?"
"Of course; ever since 6th year, I believe. He would always flinch when I draw my wand around him…"
Harry chuckled.
Hermione strummed her nails-or the tips of her fingers, since her nails were too short and uncared for-on the top of their table and took another sip of her lemonade. Harry watched her closely as she discreetly nodded her head to the music that was playing and knew that even when his friend was "letting go", she did it in a respectful and modest way. With Ron, however…give him a beer and it's done.
A waitress, a petite blonde girl wearing an apron, came by their table and swept up their-Ron's, basically-trash. She shot the two a small, shy smile then left.
"Just ask me, Harry."
Harry jerked his head; he didn't know she was watching him. Then again, he was as open as a book and Hermione knew how to read him.
She smiled encouragingly. "I know you want to know about what happened between Ron and I."
"Fine. I-" then he stopped because he realized that he didn't have just one question.
"How about we start with why Ron and I broke up."
Harry grinned sheepishly and nodded. Though he had an idea of the answer, he still wanted to hear Hermione explain.
"Well, our relationship has been sour for a very long time. It was sort of like our time in school, except there were a few snogs and intimacy and such," Hermione said, disregarding Harry's amused expression. "But our arguments got worse since we had more things to argue about. If Ron ran late for a date, I would bark on him. If I was late because of work, he would get annoyed and grumble throughout the whole thing."
Hermione sighed. "By the time we'd get home, we'd have nothing but hateful words to say to each other. I couldn't take it. So…I sat him down today and just…let it all out. Turned out that Ron felt the same, and we decided that we'd break up, but still remain friends."
Her explanation was so simple, yet Harry still couldn't grasp the whole "friends to lovers to friends" process.
"It's just odd. I expect breakups to be…hateful and tense and-"
"But how do you know that? You only dated Cho besides Ginny," Hermione asked.
Harry glared at her. That was not the point. At all. "Yeah, well, I just think it's weird. It's like your relationship with Ron would have been better if you did not date him."
"Actually…I don't really regret dating him. It surely riled the media up-"
Harry did remember the articles that started to appear everywhere when Ron and Hermione got together. They'd always talk about the same thing: A love triangle gone wrong; Hermione breaking Harry's heart (again); and even Ron breaking Harry's heart. Merlin, what the tabloids came up with back in day.
"And I got to experience what I wanted since third year."
"You wanted to date Ron…since third year?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "A childish fantasy, I know, but yes. I had a crush on him, but I waited. Once he got together with Lavender," she made a face, "all hell broke lose. I was so mad and angry that Ron would just disregard me!"
"He didn't," Harry quickly interjected. Hermione gave him a shocked look while he mockingly said, "Oh, honestly, Hermione! He picked a fight with you in fourth year because he was jealous that you took Victor Krum to the Yule Ball. He blushed, yes, blushed like a schoolgirl when you kissed him on the cheek in fifth year. He was in a daze for minutes before I had to snap him out of it. And sixth year...the only reason he was dating Lavender was to make you jealous!"
He couldn't believe that Hermione was so surprised to hear him say all those things. The smartest witch he had ever known was completely lacking in romantical-romanticalic-or whatever (he didn't know the term), relationship.
"You think so?" she asked quietly.
"Listen, my performance in the romantic category has not been good, but I know that Ron was crazy for you when the three of us were younger.
Hermione smiled again and shrugged noncommittally. "Well, I don't think that matters anymore. Never in my time with Ron had I thought I'd spend my whole life with him."
"Never?"
"Never. I had a feeling that it'd be one of those 'experience it and then move on" things. But I'm okay now, Harry. I know that you were worried, but I'm perfectly fine." She smiled widely and then gulped down her whole lemonade and slammed it down to the table. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Are you-"
"Positive."
"Hermione."
"Harry," she countered. She laughed when he narrowed his eyes at her. "Come on, Harry. Why are you so…insistent with this subject?"
Harry shrugged, but he had a feeling. This was the time where he expected her to be angry, to be depressed, and to be in a state where only he would be able to get her out of. It was strange, but he thought of this moment to be an opportunity for him to help her instead of the other way around. But now that he knew she was fine, he started to wonder, again, about how he had ever helped her.
He knew that if he let this moment go again, he might not be able to help her, to be there for her. And when she would really need him, he'd forget about her. Like she wasn't his friend. Like she wasn't important.
Harry shook off that feeling again.
"Sorry…it's just…" he trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed about his behavior.
"It's just…" Hermione pressed, eyes telling him to just say whatever he was thinking. Seeing that he was struggling internally, she reached out and laid a soft hand on top of his.
"Have I ever been a good friend to you?" he blurted without much thought.
His friend blinked, eyes a bit wide and mouth slightly open. Then she closed it and withdrew her hand. Harry suddenly wanted to reach out for it because he felt so…stupid for asking his question. Hermione lowered a head and bit her lip, pondering the question. She finally looked up and straight at him, eyes soft.
"Why," she began quietly, "would you ask that?"
"I-I don't know. It's like I feel-I feel like a horrible friend. I always think about how I kind of dragged you into my mess in the past-even though you never seemed to want to follow. I put your life in danger but never asked or gave you a choice. We never talk anymore like we used to. We never--And I always think…that I never helped you. I don't do anything for you!" he rambled, his voice unintentionally growing louder after each word. Once Harry finished, he lowered his arm; apparently, he had been waving his arms around during his rant. He let out a breath and leaned in his chair and stared at his hands in his lap.
"Harry." Her voice sounded like a soft melody to his ears. It was asking for him. Harry finally glanced back up and saw, astonished, that in the dimmed room there were tears in her eyes.
"I don't think you know…how much you have given me. You were my first friend, the first person to save my life," she said as her lips began to tremble. Harry opened his mouth to say that that was probably the only thing he had done for her, but Hermione stopped him. "Do you know what life was like before I met you?"
"I used to go home after school and go to my room while kids my age would go to afterschool clubs, friends' houses, and parks. I would read while other kids would laugh with their friends and have fun! Books were my only friends," she whispered tearfully. "My mum used to cry when I would run to her upset and tell her about kids bullying me. My father used to get so angry towards those kids and threaten to hurt them, but I would beg him to stop and to do nothing because nothing would get better. I was always small, something unimportant around kids. I used to be scared and pitiful and…" By now, she was crying freely while wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Harry wanted nothing more than to tell her to stop, to make her feel better again, someway, somehow.
Hermione choked back her tears and wiped the remainder of her tears. "When you say that you have never helped me…you're wrong. I would have never made friends. I would have never learned about anything other than books, books, and books. I would have been sodding recluse!"
"So sure, you may think that you have done nothing, but I could go on with a list about how much you have done for me, Harry," she finished fiercely.
Harry reached across the table and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gratefully. Her words had caused some sort of emotion in him, but he couldn't decipher it; all he knew was that what he feared was not true. He knew that their relationship would be strong no matter what. That he would be there for her from now one. And he knew that Hermione would do the same.
She smiled through her tears and let out a laugh that sounded familiar to his ears. Ron came back and settled cautiously into his chair. His two friends still held hands and their eyes spoke secret messages to each other. Ron mumbled an apology to Hermione before taking a sip of his beer.
And he was fully astounded when Hermione hugged him tightly. He gave Harry an amusingly perplexed look while Harry merely shrugged and chuckled.
All of a sudden, he found himself engulfed in Hermione's warm embrace and in one small moment that he would cherish forever, he heard her whisper, "I love you."
Harry smiled into her hair and hugged her tighter.
That was supposed to be a sentimental moment. Yeah, I tried.
Anyways, I'm gonna recommend a few things.
H/HR fic: Survivor by atruwriter
I read it again this weekend and wow, I was blown away. So good.
Music: For the rockers, I am in love with the soundtrack to The Phantom of the Opera. American Idol had some songs with the soundtrack. David Cook rocks. David Archuleta…I will marry that guy. Also, Boyce Avenue is a new band. Their acoustic versions of recent songs are extremely good and originals are amazing
Books: I finished Stiff by Mary Roach. Funny as hell even though the book is about dead people. Definitely for the science geeks like me.
The Choice by Nicholas Sparks. Very romantic. I did not realize Sparks was young until I searched him. If I can find a guy who writes like him…
Psychological studies, blah blah: Snakes in Suits: When Psychopaths go to Work by Paul Babiak, Ph.D & Robert D. Hare, Ph.D
So interesting. It's not boring at all, peoples! Very useful for people who will go into business
Cracking the AP U.S. History Exam: 2008 exam: I am not freaking kidding. For those of you enrolled in this class and going to take the exam on May 9, at least you'll know that you're studying at the same time as Viopathartic. Haha.
That's pretty much all. I didn't even talk about my story…but there's nothing much to say!
Thanks for reading,
Viopathartic