Warning Angst Ahead… if you are not a fan of angst I suggest that you skip this chapter and the next one. Waiting until the chapter after that comes out for all of it to be resolved (somewhat). For all of you who have stated your displeasure for angst, I'm sorry this is an emotionally charged story and lots of feelings are involved. I DO NOT skip over what everyone feels and rush to the happy ending, I prefer to have a complete story. If you cannot handle emotion then walk away, I don't mind my feelings won't be hurt it's not your cup of tea ^.^ However if you proceed then please don't go on some long winded rant about how the story is too angsty. Also it is my belief that if something happened between Hermione and Harry while she was still with Ron she would in fact push them both away in an attempt to stop the hurt from either of them, that is my opinion and the story will reflect it. She won't do it forever, after all true love cannot be fought but she will do it -if you cannot stand the concept please refer to my earlier suggestion. You may also want to try Forbidden Love or Snogging Chronicles which are both possessors of minimal angst. That's it for my long winded Authors note/rant. Hehe, thanks
Ace of Heart
Chapter 13
Hermione lay in her bed staring blankly at the wall; it had been three days since she had last seen Harry, three days since he stormed out of the flat, three days since that horrible heartbreaking morning. She closed her aching eyes.
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Ron had arrived home the very next day, tired but excited about his time his training camp. After flooing into the flat, he instantly began to look around for someone to tell about his great week, finding no one in the living room or kitchen he rushed into to Hermione's room hoping that she was home from work.
Bursting through the door, he used his wand to turn on her lamp; seeing her lying in the bed he immediately started to relay his tale, using the most descriptions humanly possible to try to get her to feel like she was there. He was halfway though his recounting of meeting his famous Quidditch bunk-mates on his first day when he noticed that she wasn't looking at him; nor did she seem to be moving at all.
"Mione, are you okay?" he asked, coming forward and hesitantly touching her arm.
When she didn't respond he softly squeezed her shoulder and gave it a small shake, after receiving still no answer he began to feel concerned. Leaning over her so that his elbow was resting on the bed in front of her, he craned his neck so that he could see her face. Or, at least see part of her face, the small bit that wasn't hidden by either a bushel of brown hair or by her hound's-tooth flannel pillow casing.
"Mione... come on, talk to me, what's wrong?"
He hesitated for a moment, before pushing her hair softly out of her face, there was a sharp intake of breath as he finally got a clear view of her. Hermione's skin was a blotchy red, her eyes were swollen, her cheeks were puffy and her lips looked bruised, though he could see why, when she self-consciously bit them while he was watching her.
"What the hell happened?" He demanded shocked, instantly cringing at his own stupidity, perhaps he had not used the most tactful words. She looked at him with a frown and he could almost make out a glare from beneath her puffy eyelids.
"I, er, mean... what happened sweetie, are you sick?" he asked in much gentler voice, lightly stroking her cheek.
She closed her eyes mentally giving herself a mocking smile. 'Well, should you tell him? `what happened sweetie, are you sick?' her mind said, mimicking Ron's question. 'Why yes dear, yesterday I had a huge fight with Harry over why we couldn't be together even though making love to him was the most amazing and passionate experience I've ever had in my life. Well, since then I haven't been able to hold a thing down and my head and my heart have been killing me.' She rolled her eyes, 'yeah, that'll go over real well.'
Ron was still watching her anxiously and she felt herself getting annoyed, he just did not know how to deal with feelings. She could never have a moment of misery, just a chance to release angry, sad or frustrated tears around him without him getting all fidgety or uneasy. Come to think of it, in moments where she just needed someone to hold her while she cried or listen while she screamed she had always gone to Har-
Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the heaviness press deeper upon her heart. Where is he now? Is he alright? Is he with Aurora? Feeling that tears were once again coming on, she gave Ron a small nod to indicate that she was sick. Then, putting her arm over her eyes like she always did when she got a bad headache, she asked him to turn off the light so she could catch some rest, making sure to say it in a low voice so that he wouldn't notice the tremor in her tone.
Taking the hint, Ron slowly got off the bed and tiptoed out of the room, using his wand to turn the lamp light back off and shutting the door quietly behind him. Once he had left, she removed her arm from over her eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling once again thinking about Harry.
She had done the right thing, hadn't she? She sighed, unsure of what she was supposed to do now. Was she supposed to stay with Ron even though her feelings for him weren't the same? She had always had feelings for both Harry and Ron; how could she not when she had two such attractive, brave and loyal best mates. A girl would have to be daft not to fall for at least one of them and a martyr not to at least have those types of thoughts about both occasionally.
Even though the one she always had the strongest feelings for was Harry, she had always thought it just made more sense for her to be with Ron, especially when he started seeing Ginny. Besides, Harry had beautiful girls after him all the time, particularly after the defeat of Voldemort. So why would he want her, with her bushy hair, homely face and dull brown eyes? She had never even considered that he would ever be interested in her so she had suppressed those feelings and put everything she had into her relationship with Ron. Sure, there were times when Harry would give her certain looks that would make her heart race, but she just attributed that to her own feelings never allowing herself to hope that they might be his.
She turned and faced the wall again, pulling herself into a ball, tears coursing down her face. He looked so angry, so... hurt, she had never wanted to be one of the people who hurt him, she only hoped that he realized in the long run, that she had done what was best. Yeah; she had done what was best. What was best...
A painful hiccup ripped through her chest as she began to cry in earnest, turning her head into her pillow to muffle the sound so that Ron wouldn't overhear. Just as her cries started to subside she heard a small 'click' and saw a stream of light as her door quietly opened. She froze completely waiting for the person to address themselves, she already knew who it was, but that didn't stop her heart from hoping her head was wrong.
"Mione," Ron said slipping back into the dark room, Hermione closed her eyes against the pain and disappointment that flowed through her.
She had done what was for the best.
"Mione," he said again, when she didn't respond.
Hermione felt the bed dip a bit from his weight as he took a seat behind her.
"Come on, sit up... this'll make you feel better..." as he trailed off, she finally turned to face him, curious as to what he was talking about.
Ron used his wand to turn on the low desk lamp; it provided enough light to see, but not too much so that her headache wouldn't get worse. Upon facing him Hermione was surprised to see that he had a small T.V. tray over his lap, sitting on top of the tray was what looked like steaming soup and a glass of juice. She gave him a dubious look.
"Ron... this isn't, kitchen soup is it?"
He grinned. "No, I want you to get better not worse," he tapped her shoulder so that she would sit up a bit. Once she had, he fluffed a few pillows, leaning her softly against them and then placing the tray over her lap.
"I flooed mum and told her how sick you were, she whipped this up herself, says it's guaranteed to make you feel loads better." He said with a half-smile, stirring the soup for her.
Hermione couldn't help but give a small smile; he could be so sweet sometimes. She looked down at the bowl so he couldn't see her fighting back tears, he didn't deserve what she had done to him, what she was still doing to him by remaining here. She had ruined everything, everything between him and her, everything between her and Harry, and quite possibly everything between him and Harry by acting like a... a... a harlot.
"Here sweetie," Ron said, holding the spoon before her face, totally unaware to her mental struggle.
Avoiding direct eye contact she accepted the spoonful of hearty soup, physically forcing herself to swallow the warm liquid. Ron continued to feed her like that for the rest of the bowl, making idol chat about his trip and the interesting witches and wizards he had met. Try as she might Hermione just could not listen to what he said, not since she had to concentrate on keeping the soup down.
Once he had finished feeding her, Ron had given her a light kiss on the forehead and then for the most, part left her alone. He came in sporadically to make sure she didn't need anything over the rest of the day and all day Friday and to bring her food. After noticing that every conversation he attempted to start ended with her staring solemnly at the wall and not contributing in the least, he finally heaved a frustrated sigh and gave up trying; she was glad of it. Now he usually just asked if she was ok, left and brought her food in silence, staring somberly at her but not saying anything.
Mrs. Weasley was confounded as to why her soup wasn't working but then, contributing it to Hermione's muggle heritage; she then began to send over more soup, full of what she said was `extra nutrients'. On Friday night, it was that nutrient packed, blasted soup that almost gave her away. She sitting on the bed against some pillows wordlessly eating and as Ron usual was sitting on the bed by her knees flipping though a Quidditch magazine when he stopped abruptly, looking around then at her.
"Hey, where's Harry?" he asked, like it had just come to mind.
Hearing Harry's name and so unexpectedly, her eyes widened and she promptly began to choke on her soup. Hermione began to cough violently, sputtering as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes due to the lack of oxygen; Ron came forward quickly patting her heavily on the back a worried look on his face.
"Here take this," he handed her the orange juice from the tray on her lap and she took a small sip. "Is that better?" He asked while rubbing her back.
She gave a small nod `yes' before setting the cup down back onto the tray, as she did this Hermione noticed that her hands were trembling. Seeing Ron's eyes flick to her hands and then back to her face, she quickly placed them under the covers.
"Are you sure?" he inquired, looking doubtful.
When she nodded again, he asked the question she was hoping that he wouldn't.
"So, what was that about?"
"What?" she asked, leaning back against the pillows and averting her gaze.
"That, the choking thing..."
She gave him an annoyed look, "Are you suggesting that I choked myself for fun Ronald?"
He frowned, "No, I'm suggesting that you choked yourself on accident... after I said Harry's name for some reason." He gave her a suspicious look "Do you know where he is?"
She rolled her eyes and looked away, hiding behind a mask of annoyance.
"I choked because my food went down the wrong tube and that's all... look, don't start this again Ron, I'm tired and sick and really don't feel like it."
"Fine, but where is Harry."
"Well since I don't keep him in my pocket I wouldn't bloody well know, now would I?! Harry is a big boy, and he's wherever big boys go! I don't know I'm not his bloody freakin keeper Ronald, perhaps you can create a Marauders Map for the whole damn world, that way you can always know where he is and leave me the hell alone about it!"
Ron stared at her in shock, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. Hermione knew that she would feel guilty about blowing up at him later, but at this point she really didn't care. The fact that she didn't know where Harry was, happened to be an extremely painful subject for her... she just kept imaging him in Aurora's arms, playfully kissing her and then making love to Aurora as he had to her.
Hermione turned her head to face the wall, ignoring it when Ron stood abruptly from the bed and walked out of the room; she didn't even flinch when he slammed the door behind himself on the way out, because she didn't care.
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The next morning at around nine Hermione pulled herself out of bed looking drearily around the room; she had decided last night after a lot of cursing and a lot of crying that the best thing for her to do was to just get out of this flat. Since she had missed work, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, she decided that today was the perfect day to go and catch up on the mountains of paperwork that she knew were waiting for her. Since most of the others would be off today so she wouldn't have to deal with annoying questions about where she had been and her health, not to mention she could also use this opportunity to get away from Ron.
Taking a much needed shower and dressing in a pair of black slacks and a modest pink blouse, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and made her way out of the restroom to the kitchen. Walking out of the kitchen a few minutes later with juice in hand, she noticed Ron sitting on the floor watching Charlie and Lola. She sighed as the guilt that she knew would come, surged to life within her. She had no right to get mad a Ron because he wanted to know where Harry was, and she really had no right to blow up because he suspected what had happened between them. Taking a small sip from her cup she placed it on the dining room table and walked quietly into the living room stopping directly behind her boyfriend, fidgeting with her bracelet.
"Ron," she said quietly; he turned to look at her, a blank expression on his face. "I'm sorry about last night; I just wasn't feeling well and… I don't know, I felt like you were trying to start a row or something and I just got hacked off and overreacted... I'm -I'm sorry."
He remained silent for a second before nodding, turning around he faced the T.V. for a moment before standing up and turning to her.
"That's okay Mione," he made a face "perhaps I was being a bit of a jealous git, I don't know I just thought it seemed odd that Harry wasn't around and you seemed so... well, not just sick, you seemed, sorta depressed." He chuckled, scratching his neck "I guess I just put two and two together and thought something had happened between you... I was just being stupid."
Hermione gave a strangled smile, mentally kicking herself for underestimating Ron's sense of perception.
"That's alright, I guess were both sorry huh?" she said looking down at the floor then back at him again.
"I'll tell you what, I'll promise not to put two and two together and get nine again. And you promise to stop hanging around with those sailors."
She furrowed her brows "What sailors?"
"The ones who are teaching you all that vulgar language," he said with a grin.
She gave a genuine smile, "Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you're the only sailor I hang around."
He laughed; stepping forward he enveloped her in a warm hug, kissing her lightly on the lips. Just as the kiss ended, they heard a tiny pop. Still wrapped in one another's arms and turning their heads, Ron and Hermione saw Harry and Aurora standing before them. Hermione realized just where she was and how it must look when Harry's perceptive gazed scanned quickly over them, they flashed with something that was gone before she could read or understand it.
'Perfect, just bloody perfect,' she thought closing her eyes.
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Harry opened his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling above, he was tired... hell, he was exhausted, but try as he might he just could not fall asleep. Every time he closed his eyes he just saw her, her laughing, her moaning, her smiling… her crying. He sighed, readjusting himself for the hundredth time so that he was lying on his side instead of his back; he began to stare at some random object. If you were to ask him what it was, he wouldn't be able to tell you, he wasn't paying any attention; his mind was too busy working overtime.
'You should have known,' it said 'I tried to tell you that she doesn't feel that way about you and why should she.'
'She does love me, I know it... she just doesn't want to hurt Ron.' his heart responded
'So she hurts you instead?'
Silence.
'Well, that should let you know where you are on her list of priorities. Besides, Ron is a big time Quidditch player now, he'll be just as famous as you are soon so what does she need you for?' his brain asked, scoffing.
'You know that she's not like that... regardless of what you think right now, you know that fame means absolutely nothing to her. Heck, the only famous person she ever had a crush on was Lockhart back in second year and that was because he was an author.' his heart responded indignant.
'What about Krum?'
'What about him? He pursued her not the other way around... don't get mad at her because he had the balls to do something that you didn't.'
Harry turned back onto his back, closing his eyes and releasing a heavy sigh; now he was even fighting with himself... he just needed sleep.
'Why would she want me anyway?' his mind asked refusing to shut down. `She can have it all with Ron, not only would they be set with two really great careers, but when they have children the kids with have plenty of aunts, uncles and cousins. Not to mention grandparents who dote on them; a grandmother to fuss over their weight and offer them homemade sweets and a grandfather to teach them how to really appreciate the muggle culture and encourage them when they want to try new things.' Harry gave a shaky sigh as tears rolled silently down his face.
'What could I offer her... me? What's that worth…' he scoffed. `But that's all I have, the only other family I have isn't mine, and if Hermione and I were to get together they probably wouldn't want to be even considered my family anymore. So after that, I would only have Lupin, Tonks and McGonagall really, and that's not much at all especially considering the only time I really see them is on Christmas... at the Weasley's.'
He roughly rubbed the wetness from his face scowling; he had no right to be upset, over what? He couldn't make her want him; he couldn't make the Weasleys his real family and he couldn't make any of them love him. The only thing he could do was get some rest so that he was ready for work tomorrow. He had to go on as if nothing had happened, move on with his life... he tired for happiness and in the end; he was just unworthy of it.
Sitting up, Harry retrieved his wand off the table, then lying back down he pointed it at his chest and said a small incantation. His hand immediately fell to his chest, still clutching his wand, as he was shut off from the world now entrapped in a deep dreamless sleep.
A.N. Well that's it for now. Where had Harry been the last couple of days? What happened after he arrived at the flat and saw Ron and Hermione in an embrace? Those questions were originally answered in this chapter, but by the time I was done it was almost twenty pages long so I decided to cut it in half. Don't worry they'll be answered and soon…. PLEASE REVIEW!!! Feedback inspires us lowly authors to write more, as a matter of fact it's the only from of payment we get for all our hard work. So please review the story. Thanks!
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