Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Author's Note: Phew. Sooner than I thought it would be, here it is! Hope you enjoy. This one is really introspective, with some action in the middle. Just figured I'd warn you. As always let me know what you think.
"The crazy thing is, and take this how you will." Harry said, "Is that when you called me out like that… I hadn't realized what a mess I was making of it all."
"No. The crazy thing is," Ron countered with a smile, "Is that I listened to you up to that point."
The two boys began to laugh the deep hearty laugh that friends share. It wasn't exactly and apology, and it would never be one, but it was enough for them. Hermione would never understand them. The relationship they shared, at times, seemed so much more than friendly. They were brothers. They were two halves of the exact same coin. She sometimes envied their relationship, though she would never admit it. They had such an easy grace about them. Years of behaving like reckless adventurous had molded them into a family. A family she was a part of, but not like them.
To her best estimation, it was the tri wizard cup that had made them so inseparable. When Ron had stopped speaking to Harry for that absurdly long time they had both realized how hard they had it without the other. Everyone laughed at Ron's jokes, but Harry laughed the loudest. Everyone envied Harry for his unwanted fame, but Ron understood why they shouldn't. She loved both men. It was deep and primal. Like a mother bear for her cubs or a lobster for her mate. She loved them in a way that only family could love each other.
But she loved Harry in another way. She wanted to know all of his secrets and share in all of his triumph and all of his pain. She wanted to be best friend, and confidant, and secret keeper, and drinking buddy, and lover all wrapped into one. When she saw those two together, never apologizing, always speaking to each other in the same lazy, practiced and comfortably friendly way she felt a pang in her heart. She could never be to Harry what Ron was.
Ron wasn't just Harry's best friend, and partner in crime. Ron was Harry's salvation. The first person in all the world that saw Harry not as a burden or as a savior, but as a fun guy to be around. There was something special about being the first one there. She had spent so many years wishing it had been her. That she befriended him first. That on that long exciting train ride she had been more than the brainy girl. She didn't regret how they had met. It was probably then that she fell in love. It was hard to say. Harry had stormed into that bathroom and saved her life when he could easily have run.
She came to find out in the intervening years that that was who Harry was. He never thought twice about throwing himself into the line of danger for other people. As if the thought that he could just walk away never even occurred to him. But to have been the first would have been wonderful. She would always remember the look on his face at the Yule ball. The way his eyes lingered on her figure as she descended the grand stair. The way that one look sent shivers up her spine and filled her stomach with a queasy tension. How different would that have been if she had known him, really known him first? Would he have been waiting there for her?
She shook her head. Nonsense. No point in dwelling on nonsense. She thought briefly about joining the two of them at the fire. Sitting down and telling jokes and making plans. She decided against it. They needed alone time. They needed time to kid and joke and enjoy what little of their youth they had to enjoy. Besides lately it felt like Ron and her were vying for Harry's time. Like the group was falling apart. She thought maybe the reason was that Harry and Ron didn't have time to make their ridiculous jokes all night. Maybe it was the way she barely let Harry out of her sight.
She wandered closer to the tent she and Harry shared. They had not made love in some time. Harry wasn't exactly pushing her away, but he was keeping his distance. He was okay with them sleeping in the same tent, he had even begrudgingly accepted that they would hold one another, but he was by no means getting attached. He let her have little things to pacify her. She knew this. She just decided not to care. He had never really told her that he loved her. He had said the words once in the house of black, but not the way she meant for them to be said.
He had told her that he loved her the same way he had told her that he loved her a hundred times. Of course he loved her. He loved Ron too, but she wanted more than that from him. She knew he felt it for her. She knew that his love for her was with out boundaries. She also knew that it was chained. He was unwilling to feel it. Afraid of the consequences. Everyone Harry cared about died. His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore all dead. Harry was emotionally scarred. He always would be. You didn't go through that and come out clean.
She was too, she realized. She had given up her life to go on the run with him. She had let go of the woman that used to stroke her hair when she woke up from a nightmare. She had let go of the man that held the back of her bicycle seat when she learned how to ride. She had given up her parents. They weren't dead, just gone. In a way much more profound than dead. If she died on that spot that night they wouldn't even care. They didn't know her anymore. It would take a lot of magical therapy and time before they would even remember her favorite food again.
So much pain. So many broken homes. They all had a sob story. Everyone who fought Voldemort had a reason why. Neville and Harry fought for their parents. Ron fought for his family and his best friend. Luna fought for peace. Sometimes Hermione wondered what it was exactly that propelled her. What she fought for. Harry was predetermined to fight. It was his destiny to kill or be killed and save the world. Hermione was muggle born. She didn't grow up in the aftermath the way many of her classmates had. She only knew of the horrors in the same way that she knew of the horrors of Hitler. From books.
But no that wasn't right. She had felt Voldemort's evil far closer than many of her classmates. She had seen the strangle hold he had put on Harry's freedom. She was a target in Voldemort's way. She always had been. Since the troll her first year. She may not have been the first person to really know Harry, but she was one of the first to put her life in his hands. She was one of the first to see him in action. She was the first to really love him. To her that counted for something. She knew why she fought. All she had to do was see those wonderful emerald eyes and she knew. She always had.
* * *
The dirty red brick building loomed in front of them. It looked derelict. It had a sign that was weather beaten and sagging. The sign said Purge & Dowse LTD. But once one entered the window of the run down shop it would become St. Mungo's. The foremost Hospital for the wizarding world in London. Neville and Ginny stood by this window. They had to prep. Under their clothes they had concealed the lime green uniforms of the Healers inside. Their plan was simple. Pretend to be attending Healers. They quickly ducked inside and the fabrication of the outside was never more obvious.
Inside the hospital was neat and sterile. Healers rushed about here and there in a hurry to help the next patient. As soon as they were in Ginny followed Neville's lead. He was far more familiar with the place than she. On a floor above them his parents were still being treated for the torture inflicted on them by Belatrix LeStrange. Neville had been here often to visit them. He knew where the closet restrooms were. They moved normally. Walked with confidence. It was a trick Harry had taught them. Go anywhere like you belong and everyone will assume you do.
Ginny strolled casually into the girl's restroom. She gave Neville a quick glance before she disappeared behind the door. She knew how upsetting it was for him to infiltrate this place. She knew how risky it was too. Some of the Healers knew him. Once she was safely inside Neville hurried to the men's room. He withdrew a plastic bag from his robes and stuffed all of his clothes inside. He tied the bad shut and carefully removed the back of the toilet. He let his clothes sink into the water inside the tank and hoped that the bag was airtight. The last thing he needed was to try and make an escape in soggy clothes.
He looked at himself in the mirror. He was garbed as all the attending Healers are. His lime green uniform was both comforting and ugly. He pulled Ginny's kit from his back pocket. She had had Fred and George rig it up. It was a disguise kit. It came with a wig and mustache, as well as several very realistic moles. He applied the kit and marveled at how different it made him look. He slid on a pair of wire framed glasses to hide his eyes. He then closed the kit and shoved back into his pocket.
When he exited the restroom he found Ginny waiting in the hall. He walked over to her and made casual chit chat. They wanted to seem like attending Healers so they had to really sell it. Finally she suggested that they check in on their patient. Neville agreed and they made their way. Neville wasn't sure of the actual room that he would be in, but he knew where.
They made their way through the hospital with the same haggard expression the other Healers had. Neville could see why they looked so run down. As they passed room after room they noticed that they were all full. It seemed that not a single bed was unattended. The influx of injuries was alarming. Neville and Ginny knew there was a war on but it was preposterous that so many people should be effected. As far as they knew it was still a secret war. Voldemort seemed to be trying his had at infiltration rather than invasion. Perhaps growing a littler wiser from his previous failure. But the amount of injuries seemed disproportionate to that tactic. This many people should not have been injured.
Finally, when it seemed that they could bear the sight of these poor people for no longer, they happened on the right room. Amycus Carrow was lying in his bed and bandaged. He was twitching. Neville knew the twitch. It was what happened when a particularly powerful Cruciatus Curse had caused nerve damage to a wizard. It wasn't terribly bad though. Likely Carrow would recover fairly soon, though by Neville's estimation he would probably still flinch a little when it rained. He wasn't asleep, but he was staring off into nothingness. He had obviously been tranquilized by the staff. He must have been in really bad pain because he didn't look that coherent at all. Neville smiled to himself. Death Eater incapacitated by one of their favorite curses.
Ginny and Neville moved closer to the bed. Ginny made sure to close and lock the door before they got into the room too far. Neville waved his hand in front of Carrow's face to see if he would react to stimulus. He did.
"Alecto?" He moaned, "You came to visit, dear sister?"
Neville shrugged and looked at Ginny. Ginny shook her head. Neville crossed his arms. Finally she rolled her eyes and spoke softly.
"Yes, brother." She said in a way meant to disguise her voice and hide her age, "I'm here."
"The well back home." He said almost incoherently, "The water is cold, sister. Please help me."
Ginny looked to Neville with a quizzical expression. Neville just shrugged and indicated that she continue.
"Yes." She tried to hide her confusion, "But it is dry up here. Come join me."
"Of course." Me muttered dreamily, "Where are you?"
"I'm trying to get to the place where we keep the prisoners for our Lord." Ginny gambled, "But I've forgotten where it is."
"Oh you were always so forgetful." He laughed a little and closed his eyes before saying in a tired voice, "It is at Malfoy Manor as always."
"Thank you." Ginny said flabbergasted at how easy this turned out to be, "Get some sleep brother."
He had already passed out. Clearly his healing session were tiring. Neville indicated the door and Ginny nodded in agreement. As they walked over the knob turned but since the door was locked it didn't turn all the way. They froze. Ginny began to scan the room for somewhere to hid. If they apparated it would make too much noise. From outside the door they could hear someone making the alohamora incantation. They didn't have much time. Ginny saw a closet. It was very big but it would have to do.
She grabbed Neville's hand and raced for the closet. They had gotten inside and pulled the door closed just as the door to the room opened. They could hear footsteps outside the closet door. Ginny was in the back of the closet with Neville squeezed in practically on top of her. Every time he let out a breath she would feel his chest move against her. The noise of several people walking around inside the room could be heard. The faint voices seemed to be talking about how the last person in here must have accidentally locked the door. Then she heard them start in on more healing spells.
After what seemed like hours but was likely only forty-five minutes or so she heard the last of the footsteps leave the room. They waited for several more minutes to be sure before very slowly opening the door and peeking out. It was clear. With the utmost confidence they walked back to the bathrooms and changed back. They let several minutes go by before reemerging to meet with one another in their normal clothes. They calmly walked out into the busy English Streets and as soon as they found a darkened alley they Aparated back to their hotel to deliver the news to the rest of the DA.
* * *
For several days in the aftermath of the daring break out Anthony had DA members casting Patronus toward the dungeons. The shimmering white animals and the house ghosts combined made sure that most of the students and staff thought that the break in was in fact a haunting. The Death Eaters were likely not fooled however. It bugged Anthony. For some reason no one had barged into the Room of Requirements blasted them all away. There was something going on there.
He knew for a fact that Snape was likely aware of the room. The DA had been using it since fifth year. Something was going on and Anthony didn't understand it, nor did he trust it. Snape had to have a good reason not to turn them over to Voldemort. He had to. The only solution that Anthony had come to was that Snape knew Harry wasn't there. No point in telling Voldemort that he couldn't handle a student rebellion. That was admitting uselessness. Useless Death Eaters met with bad fates. However if Harry were here Snape dropping dime would be a blessing for the Dark Lord. So Snape had to have information about Harry that Anthony didn't. These thoughts had been keeping him up nights.
Of course the sudden influx of residents didn't help either. Madam Pomfrey had setup a ward in the room to care for the students, and the room itself had grown huge. It had made rooms for all the students there as well as the new clinic. It looked like a little village and a hallway at the same time. Most nights Anthony spent going over plans and whatnot in the war room they had conjured. The other students didn't know about how Anthony and Hannah were falling asleep holding each other. They didn't know about their pseudo relationship either. Hannah and Anthony had been careful about it.
They didn't want to appear to be weak. Succumbing to emotions might seem weak. They also didn't want it to seem like the chance for playing favorites could be presented. So while they didn't really hide what they had, they didn't go out of their way to announce it either. Partly this was because they themselves weren't totally sure. They knew that when they had fled holding hands it had meant something to both of them. They knew that the other one knew. They knew that something was different in the way they looked at each other. They just didn't know what it all meant.
The Room of Requirement seemed to know better than them. When it had conjured all the new rooms it had made Hannah's right next to Anthony's. They shared a wall, which it happened was fake. It looked solid, and could be so if so desired, but it wasn't most of the time. They each had their own door and bathroom and bed, but they could easily move from their room to the other's without going into the "hall". It had turned out to be a blessing. The first night they tried to sleep without the other had been miserable. They tossed and turned before finally they pushed their beds into the center of the room and fell asleep hold one another.
All of this was weighing on Anthony's mind. He was certain of nothing and worried about everything. He found it weird that in some small way he had achieved his one biggest goal. He had managed to get most of the remaining DA into the room with them. They were, at least for a time, safe. However Snape was the thorn in his side. How long would it be before the old bastard would come in here and kill them all? Would he even? Anthony had asked the loyal faculty members to snoop a little on the new head master. See what they could find.
So far it was nothing. The guy took his meals alone and never seemed to venture to far from his office. Filtch said he had seen him in there talking to the portrait of Dumbledore once. Hannah suggested that that might indicate guilt. Maybe Snape was starting to feel like he had picked the wrong side again. Anthony was less optimistic. Still he had a burning need to know what was going on. This school kept many secrets, Anthony just needed to uncover the ones that would help them all survive.
* * *
Harry walked into his tent. He saw her there huddled against the wall looking as frustrated as ever. He guessed that she was likely still struggling to get her transformations down. The intelligence on Godric's Hollow she dug up in her books was helpful, but it didn't form a complete picture. He worried about her. He knew how she was feeling. Every time he had been forced to stay in the tent or hotel room because of his injury he had felt the same way. Guilt was a mire that was hard to dig one's way out of.
"You okay?" He asked gently as he sat beside her.
"No." She answered, "I'm not."
"You want to talk about it?" He inquired.
"I feeling useless." She said softly, almost sounding totally defeated, "I can't get this down. I can't help. I can't make you love me. I can't do anything."
"Hey, that's not true." He comforted, "You've never been useless a day in your life. Me and Ron knew next to nothing about any of this stuff until you showed us."
"Whatever, Harry." She sulked.
"Stop it." He patted her back, "We couldn't do any of this stuff without you."
"I'm so important, huh?" She said mockingly.
"Of course you are." He answered firmly.
"Then why don't you love me?" She shot back coldly, "I'm not pretty enough? I'm not good enough? Maybe you deserve better!"
"Of course I love you." Harry answered matter-of-factly.
"Shut up, Harry." She almost screamed, "You know what I mean. You don't love me the way I love you. Like I'm broken or defective."
"You're not broken or defective."
"Then why!?" She half cried half demanded.
Harry was silent then. He couldn't let this wall fall. If he submitted to his feelings for her that would be it. He would be over. He would be totally lost in her. She would know all of his truths and lies and all of his darkest secrets. She would be his pillar in a storm. She would be his forever. His life and his soul and he would be hers. Then she would have to watch him die. Or he would have to watch her die. They weren't in a place where a love like their's could become. They were in a dark world fighting to survive. Their love called for blue skies and green grass and deep jewel like ocean. It called for peace and tranquility and beauty. What they had was rain and war.
She glared at him with need. She so much wanted an answer and her stomach was sick over it. She had never felt so bad in all her life as she did waiting for him to tell her what was wrong with her. She knew she was being unfair. She could guess his reasons for not wanting to commit. But she needed this from him. She needed to feel like she could do something right for someone. She needed him to tell her that she was loved. She needed something from this man that she knew he was not in a place to give. It was selfish but she didn't know how much longer she could stand off to the side. How much longer she could hold his hand and let him into her without him letting her in. It was maddening.
"You're perfect." He said finally, "There is nothing wrong with you. There never was."
"Why then, Harry?" She almost begged, "Why, just tell me why."
He paused again. As if putting it all together himself for the first time. He had to phrase what he meant to say without it coming off like a bad cliché or worse. He never found the right words. He never could around her. Lead a hundred thousand people to war and likely death? Sure any day. Make his dream woman understand one thing from his heart with screwing everything up? He would need lifetimes to think of the right words.
"I'm damaged goods, kid." He finally uttered. He looked so broken to her in that moment. So defeated and worn, "I'm too messed up to function like a normal human being. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"So you're what?" She inquired, "You're saying I can't have you because you're broken and I'm perfect? That makes no sense, Harry!"
"That's because you're not the broken one." He smiled darkly, "There may be a time for us, Hermione. There may just be. But today? It's not today."
They sat in silence for a time. Just staring straight ahead as though in a trance. She rested her head on his shoulder. They were too worn down for tears. It wasn't exactly what she had wanted from him. It wasn't an admission of love. Of deep and resounding love or any other kind besides platonic. As always. But like his apology to Ron it was all they had needed. It was hope. He had not denied the possibility for them, just the timing. She knew it was a pipe dream, but it helped. He had not told her he loved her. She would live. He had proved something else.
Regardless of when she met him, or under what pretenses, she and he did share a special relationship. It was as deep as the one he shared with Ron but totally different. Their was a different kind of love at the core of her relationship with Harry. A different kind of moment that didn't need concise words or actions. In the heart of all of this darkness they may not laugh off disagreements by fireside, but they could settle a lover's spat by falling asleep holding one another. As they had at that very moment. It was different in almost everyway from his relationship with their mutual best friend, but no less pure and no less magical. Hermione didn't feel quiet to jealous of Ron anymore, and she didn't feel so useless anymore either.