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Author's Note: Have I told you guys lately that you absolutely rock! Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story here and to even let me know what you think! I appreciate it more than you would ever know. This chapter continues with Harry's point-of-view, I promise we will hear from Hermione's point-of-view soon enough. This gets into Ron and Harry's return back to Hogwarts and the fallout from Harry's actions. Please review!
Chapter 15
I Did It
"I did it
Do you think I've gone too far?
I did it
Guilty as charged
I did it
It was me right or wrong"
-Dave Matthews Band (I Did It)
It had been a week since the accident. The goodbye with Hermione at the hospital had been hard. Leaving her behind had never been easy and since we'd confessed our feelings for each other, this had been even more difficult than either of us had imagined. It lessened the blow to know that she was expected to make a full recovery. What was more troublesome was that I had no idea what her parents would do next. It helped that her mother seemed to be more on our side now.
As you can expect, upon the return to Hogwarts Ron and I had the biggest argument that we'd ever had in our entire friendship. We'd both said some hateful things and I doubted if anything would ever be the same again.
That night we'd returned to school, it had been quite late, near the middle of the night. Lupin saw Ron and I back to our common room and left us to go tell Dumbledore the news on Hermione. As soon as we both climbed through the portrait hole, he let me have it. Luckily, as it was late, the common room was deserted. The room was nearly dark, except for the light from the fireplace where a fire burned brightly and wood crackled in the flames.
"You have some nerve, you know that?" he began,
I turned to face him and saw the anger that was written all over his face. "Ron, can we not get into this now? Look, we're both tired. We'll be thinking a lot clearer in the morning and we can have it out, then, alright?" I asked him.
"You're bloody right we're going to get into this now," he said hotly. "I think it's well past time that we got into this. Were you ever going to tell me, huh? When was I going to find out? When you and Hermione took out an ad in The Daily Prophet announcing your engagement? That was probably part of the fun, wasn't it? Keeping it from me? Yet another thing you had over me."
"You don't understand, Ron," I said, interrupting him, but he held up his hand.
"Did the two of you have a nice, romantic time together? Was your goodbye heart wrenching? The Daily Prophet would get a big kick out of the story, don't you think? I can see it now, 'The Tragic Hero and his damsel in distress.' It should sell loads of copies."
One look at him and I knew he was just getting started. I fidgeted uncomfortably as I listened to him.
"Why her, Harry?" he asked. "Can you tell me that? You could probably have any girl in this school, but no. You have to go after the one that I want. You have to go after the one that I want just because you can, isn't that right? You probably wouldn't have even given her a second thought if I hadn't told you how I felt about her."
"Hold on, Ron," I said, feeling my own anger coming to the surface. "You have no idea what has been happening."
"Well, of course, I don't," he retorted. "You've been lying to me this whole time."
"Would you listen to me?" I asked. "For Merlin's sake! I listened to what you had to say and if you'd just give me a chance to explain."
I took a breath and looked at him. He'd folded his arms and was looking at me as if he could care less what I had to say, but I continued.
"I love her, Ron," I said. "I love her, okay? Not because you think you have feelings for her or because I want to take something away from you. What happened with Sirius and with her being taken away like she was, it made me see what a great person she is. When I had the chance to spend time with her, I found myself admitting to feelings that I didn't know that I had, but I did have them, Ron."
"I know I should have told you that I'd been to see her," I continued. "It was pretty selfish of me for doing that, I admit that."
"That is the biggest load of crap I've ever heard," he said. "You don't really expect me to believe that, do you? I mean, come off of it, Harry. Every thing I've ever wanted, you've gotten for yourself before I even had a chance to get it."
"Not this again," I said angrily. "You know, I am getting sick and tired of having to walk on egg shells because of you. Things don't go your way and it's supposedly my fault. Yeah, Ron, I've planned all of this out. Pretty sneaky of me, isn't it? You've found me out. I guess I'll have to move on to something else."
"What else am I supposed to think? Look at everything that's happened, right? Hermione was so right about you last year when she called you on that saving people thing, right? You have to be the great savior, don't you? No one else can do it. You had to save the Sorcerer's Stone. It had to be you to save my sister, right? It had to be you that helped Sirius escape with Buckbeak? It was you that had to win that tournament?"
"I would gladly let you have all of that if you want it!" I retorted. "I've never wanted any of that, you stupid prat! If I had a choice, I would love to have my mum and dad back and live a normal life, but no, I can't do that. If you would like to have people gawk at you all the time because of this stupid scar, you can have it, Ron. I've never wanted it! And then I found out that I had no choice in the matter to begin with! This was all set into-"
I stopped myself. I didn't want to share the Prophecy with Ron. Right now, I was finding it hard not to resist the urge to punch his lights out.
"What?" he asked. "What were you going to say?"
"Nothing," I replied, making for the staircase to the dormitories. "I'm tired of this, Ron. I'm going to bed. When you stop blaming me for everything that's gone wrong in your life, then maybe we can talk."
With that, I turned and ascended the staircase to our room. I didn't look back at him.
That had been seven days ago. We hadn't spoken a word to each other. We'd sort of developed a schedule where we'd not be in our dorm room at the same time, except when we were sleeping. We sat away from each other in classes and avoided each other at all costs during meal times. Quidditch practice was another story. We'd had to put up with each other during those times, but it was with great reluctance that we did this. It made for quite a tense few hours, let me tell you. Katie was upset with the lot of us and had taken us both aside to tell us that we needed to put whatever was bothering us behind us for the good of the team. We'd agreed to try and get along with each other, but still hadn't spoken to each other. It was almost like we'd never been friends.
When I wasn't putting up with staying away from Ron, I thought of Hermione. I could still hear her telling me that she loved me, too. God, I missed her so much. There was nothing I could do about it, though. The proverbial ball was in her parents' court, now. If she was to come back here, it would be up to them. There wouldn't be any more covert visits on the Floo Network. Dumbledore had put the kibosh on that upon my return from the hospital. He'd told me that while I wouldn't be punished for my actions, he'd have to have my word that I wouldn't go sneaking around like I had. Reluctantly, I'd given my word.
I'd also promised Hermione before I'd left her that I wouldn't do it again. She'd been afraid that I'd be expelled for doing it, and she reminded me that I had more important things to think about. I'd argued with her that there was nothing more important to me than her, but she'd asked me to promise her that I would go seeking out trouble like that again.
On Saturday morning, I'd awoken a little later than I usually did. I pulled back the duvet cover and reached toward my nightstand to put my glasses on. As I looked around the room, I saw that it was deserted, save for Neville, who was seated on his four-poster bed cradling his toad, Trevor, in his arms.
"What's going on, Neville? I asked, coming closer to him.
"Trevor," he said, looking up.
"What's wrong with him, then?" I asked, leaning in for a closer look. He looked perfectly fine to me.
"You'll see," Neville said glumly. "Just watch."
We stood there for a few seconds just staring at the toad, which wasn't doing much of anything. I was about to say something to Neville, when it happened. Trevor started to croak, and out came soap suds and bubbles.
"How did that happen?" I asked, looking at the toad in awe.
"The house elves accidentally put him in with the laundry," Neville said. "He's been croaking up soap and bubbles since then."
"Oh," I said, watching as Trevor gave out another croak that this time let loose a sea of bubbles that fell onto Neville's bed.
"You should probably take him down to Hagrid and let him have a look," I said, helpfully. "He can probably fix Trevor up for you straightaway."
Neville nodded. "You're probably right. Thanks, Harry."
I nodded and watched as Neville put Trevor in his carrying case.
"Where is everyone?" I asked, as I walked back over to my bedside table and pulled out a towel and toothbrush.
"Seamus and Dean talked Ron into a pickup game of Quidditch before breakfast," Neville said. "They left about thirty minutes ago. You want me to wait for you for breakfast?"
"Yeah," I said. "Why don't you go and take Trevor down to Hagrid's and I'll go shower. We can meet in the common room in about 20 minutes?"
Neville nodded. "Okay."
About half an hour later, Neville and I made our way to the Great Hall to grab breakfast. It was a Hogsmeade weekend and I hadn't planned on going so I hadn't signed up. I hoped Ron had so I wouldn't have to be around him. To my dismay, Ron was sitting at our house table in the Great Hall with Dean and Seamus. They were talking animatedly over a plate of eggs and bacon and toast when Neville and I approached them.
Dean and Seamus greeted us warmly, but Ron simply glared at me as I took a seat across from Seamus, who was seated beside Ron.
"Oi," Ron said to Neville. "Neville, can you pass me the toast? Unless, of course, Harry wants some, because I'm getting some."
I glared at him.
Neville looked at both of us, before handing over the plate of toast to Ron.
"Thanks, mate," Ron said.
"Harry," Dean said, trying to change the subject. "You coming in to Hogsmeade with us?"
I was about to answer him when Ron rudely broke in with, "No, I reckon 'The Boy Who Lived' is going to brood over his girlfriend whose parents rightly took her away from him to keep her safe."
I dropped my fork angrily.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked, glowering at him.
"You know damn well what it means," Ron said, dropping his own fork and pushing back from the table. "You know, all of a sudden, I'm not very hungry."
The four of us watched as he angrily stormed out of the Great Hall.
"He's really angry," Neville said to me.
"Do you think?" I retorted sarcastically.
I noticed Neville look affronted at my remark.
"I'm sorry, Neville," I said. "He just gets me so mad sometimes."
"He'll get over it soon enough," Dean said.
"Hermione's not the only fish in the sea," Seamus said, between bites of egg. "I mean, even Crabbe and Goyle could have told Ron he was fighting a losing battle for Hermione. Anyone with half a brain knows she's only had eyes for you for a long time."
I felt a little better as we finished our breakfast. I was still angry with Ron, but I was trying to not think about him. I was trying to think positive thoughts. As usual, these usually revolved around Hermione. Again, I said a silent prayer that some way she'd be able to come back here. With each passing day, it didn't seem so likely anymore.
Despite Dumbledore's assurances that this would be kept hush-hush, things had a way of getting out and they usually did around Hogwarts. Within a couple of days, rumors were circling about what had happened with Hermione and how I'd snuck out of school to see her. In the past couple of days I'd overheard Parvati and Lavender squealing about what a romantic I was for doing that for Hermione. I'd been embarrassed to over hear their conversation about this and had gone a million shades of red when they'd gushed over it to me.
When I'd finished breakfast, I said a quick goodbye to Dean, Seamus and Neville, who were all going to Hogsmeade. I set off back toward the Common Room. Why is it when you least want to see someone, they always have a funny way of turning up?
While I didn't have the answer to that question, the proof in the statement came walking past me in the form of one Draco Malfoy, who was accompanied not by Crabbe and Goyle, as per usual, but by Pansy Parkinson.
Trying to act as if I didn't see him, I tried to walk faster past him, but he caught on quite quickly to what I was trying to do, and I knew he wasn't going to let me get away so easily.
"Potter," he said haughtily. "It's a shame about Granger. Really it is."
I stopped dead in my tracks.
"What do you want Malfoy?" I asked turning around to face him. He was sneering at me, and Pansy was standing right beside him, taking it all in.
"I was just saying that it was a shame about Granger," he said.
"Are you kidding me?" I asked.
"No, of course, not," he said, with a laugh. "It's a shame that car didn't finish her off. Oh well, at least she's out of this school."
He opened his mouth to say something else, but I didn't let him utter another word. It was as if all my anger and all my frustration were ready to come out and Malfoy was going to be the unfortunate target. I rounded on him immediately and punched him with all my might in the nose. He fell back against the wall and Pansy stood back, watching as I punched him again in the stomach.
"Malfoy," I said, standing over him, as he winced in pain. "If you ever say anything cross about Hermione again, I'll make you wish you'd never been born. You aren't fit to say her name, you filthy son-of-a-bitch. You aren't worth it!"
I gave him one last look, before turning to walk away. Pansy sobbed as she stood over him.
"You broke his nose!" she screamed after me.
"It's an improvement," I said, walking away from the two of them.
That had felt good. No, that had felt damn good.