The Funeral
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all the characters in it belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is a work of imagination and is directed solely at readers of this website. No infringement of any rights is intended and no criticism of J.K. Rowling or her work should be considered to be stated or implied.
Part 6. The Diary
With Ron's condition worsening, Harry and Ginny had eventually decided that, for the moment at least, they had no option but to try to pretend to the outside world that nothing was wrong. They had therefore left the hospital together and gone home, although they were both ill at ease and felt awkward with each other. Without Elfreida's influence, Ginny, once more, seemed like Ron's little sister rather than Harry's wife and lover, which gave an almost incestuous air to any intimacy between them. Harry found it hard to remember emotions from his early school years, but he imagined that this must have been the way that he had regarded Ginny before Elfreida began to affect him. He informed Ginny that, given the circumstances, he would prefer to sleep in the guest bedroom until they worked things out and, after a token protest, she agreed, seemingly relieved. For the next few days, they visited the hospital together, keeping up an outward pretence of normality, but in the house they now moved around each other like awkward strangers, thrown together by chance.
When they arrived at the hospital, they usually found Hermione continuing her lone vigil by Ron's bedside, although occasionally she would be waiting in the visitors' room while one of the Weasleys took her place. Arthur had died the previous year but Molly was still in good health, while Bill and Fleur didn't live too far away. Percy and Charlie were generally engrossed in their work and only visited occasionally. Harry was touched by Hermione's devotion and couldn't help comparing it to the way that she had always stuck by him during his troubles with Voldermort, even when it meant going against the wishes of Ron, the boy that she was in love with.
Unless his mind was fully focused on some activity, his work or visiting Ron for instance, Harry often found himself dwelling on his recent kiss with Hermione. At those times, if he closed his eyes, he could almost sense Hermione's presence; feeling the soft curves of her body pressing against him, smelling her distinctive perfume and tasting the delicate coolness of her lips. Any sudden noise would jerk him back to reality and the pleasant mirage would evaporate like mist in the midday sun. In his more fanciful moments, Harry even wondered if things might have been different between them, if he had not been artificially infatuated with Ginny. Harry knew that Ron had always liked Hermione, even during the time that he pretended not to, but it was just possible that he might have misunderstood Hermione's feelings. Perhaps she had even cared equally for him and Ron, as close friends and, given the opportunity, those feelings might have developed into something more romantic. But then Harry would recollect all of the telltale signs - Hermione's tears when she and Ron argued; her distress over Ron's relationship with Lavender Brown; their first kiss during the heat of the battle for Hogwarts - and his hopes would fade.
The unreal, dream-like existence that Harry and Ginny were sharing was shattered a few days later when Ron finally passed away peacefully in his sleep and Harry felt as if a vital part of his own being had suddenly been ripped out and crushed in front of him. Ron had been his friend since that first train journey to Hogwarts. They had laughed, quarrelled and supported each other through his whole adult life. Now that phase was over and another strand of the cosy cocoon that he had built around him self had disintegrated and could never be repaired. Harry knew that he should try to console Hermione but he found that she had been enveloped by the rest of the Weasley clan and he couldn't summon up the energy to break through and take the initiative. He found that he was isolated; looking in from the outside, his own grief overwhelming him and controlling his thoughts.
Percy returned to take charge of the funeral arrangements and he fussed around, agreeing details with Hermione and Molly. To Harry's surprise, Hermione seemed calm and able to keep her emotions in check. She squeezed Harry's hand and gave him a brief hug when they met, with the rest of the Weasleys, on the day after Ron's death, her eyes puffy and red and her cheeks still wet with tears. But she didn't say anything in response to his muttered words of solace and soon moved on to the next person offering her their condolences.
Ron's funeral, which was fortunately scheduled for a bright sunny day that helped to lighten the general mood of despondency, took place close to the Burrow and the mourners were invited back to the old, dilapidated, misshapen house for refreshments afterwards. Given the warm weather, a few trestle tables had been set up in the garden, adorned with white cotton cloths, which were covered with plates of sweet and savoury snacks, while butterbeer and stronger beverages were stocked in the kitchen. Harry, who had tried to avoid most of the forced, inconsequential chatter between Ron's friends and relatives, wandered into the kitchen to get another fire whisky as the evening approached and people were starting to drift away. He had already had quite a few but they were doing little to numb his grief or to lift his spirits. Hermione was standing by the sink, the long sleeves of her simple black dress pulled back and her hands submerged in a bowl of foaming water. She was methodically washing glasses before stacking them to the side.
"You shouldn't be doing that," Harry told her. "Those things can be cleaned with a simple swipe of Molly's wand."
"I know," Hermione replied. "I just prefer to stay busy and there's nothing better than some harmless domestic chores to take your mind off things."
Her tone was flat and without emotion. Harry couldn't think of anything else to say to her and so he simply poured more fire whisky into his glass before turning to move back out into the garden. Things had been like this between them ever since Ron had died; wary of each other, their old, easy rapport having deserted them. That kiss hung between them like a spectral presence; neither of them sure of how they could exorcise the sense of unease that it had brought.
"Ron left some Quidditch memorabilia that he wanted you to have," Hermione suddenly muttered, her gaze still fixed on the bowl of water in front of her. "I brought it over. It's upstairs if you want to get it. I've been staying in Ginny's old room. It's on the dressing table."
Although Hugo and Rose had come back from Hogwarts to attend the funeral, the three of them had been staying at the Burrow for the past few days. With Arthur gone and all of the Weasley children living away, there was now plenty of room and Molly had been glad of the company.
"Oh, thanks," Harry responded mechanically. "I'll go up now."
He turned and moved out into the hallway, climbing the rickety stairs up to the first floor where Ginny's old bedroom was situated. The door stood slightly ajar and yielded to the slightest push from his hand. The bedroom was still decorated as he remembered it from all of those years ago when Ginny had pulled him inside for a birthday kiss. The light blue walls and bedspread, with their matching floral design, and the dark wooden furniture, were spotless and generated a sense of tranquillity that was absent from the rest of the house. The bare wood floor still creaked in all of the same places as Harry moved across it. An old cardboard box stuffed with photographs and trophies was carefully positioned to one side of the dressing table to ensure that it didn't obscure the mirror. As Harry bent to pick it up, he noticed, reflected in the glass, the corner of a book with a battered, maroon cardboard cover poking out from beneath the two pillows that were stacked at the top of the bed. It looked like a diary and Harry supposed that Hermione might have brought it with her, to help her to relive some of her old memories of Ron. Harry knew that a diary was a private thing and that he should leave it alone, but he couldn't help wondering if its' pages might give him some answers to the questions that kept swirling through his mind about Hermione's feelings for him. He, therefore, quietly crossed the room and, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulled the book out from its' hiding place and flicked it open.
As he had suspected, it was a diary and Harry recognised Hermione's neat, carefully formed letters, written in black ink, probably with her school quill. The first page seemed to date back to their fourth year at Hogwarts. Harry scanned down the early entries, just focusing on individual words, looking for his name but not finding it, until he came upon a paragraph that grabbed his attention.
Still no invite from H or R to the Yule Ball. It's really disappointing. They are desperate for someone to invite but it's as if they don't even realise that I'm a girl. I suppose I can understand why H isn't interested, but not R! What's the matter with him? Surely, I'm not that unattractive, am I?
A few entries further on, Harry noticed another mention of the Yule Ball.
I don't really believe it but Viktor Krum has asked me to go to the Yule Ball with him. I can't wait until R finds out! He will be green with envy. Viktor is his hero. I'm not going to say anything to H or R about this. I'll wait and let them find out on the night. Serves them right and I hope that every girl that they ask turns them down; especially R.
On the next page, Hermione had documented the outcome of that night.
Well, going with Viktor certainly did the trick and I would have had a lovely time, except that R acted like a complete imbecile and ruined things. I thought that he would be envious but I am convinced that he was actually jealous! Perhaps he doesn't find me so repulsive after all. I'll have to see how things develop. I just wish…
At some point, a drop of water had been spilled on the page and blurred the end of the final sentence. Harry thought that he could just make out a capital R at the beginning of the smudge, but the rest of the sentence, probably only consisting of three or four more words, was indecipherable and so he could only guess at what Hermione had been wishing for. "I just wish R would ask me out"; "I just wish R would get on with it". Whatever it was, she was clearly hoping for some progress in her relationship with Ron.
The rest of the entries that followed on the next few pages seemed, when quickly scanned, to be fairly factual, dealing with events relating to the Triwizard Tournament that he remembered only to well. The final entry for that school year, however, pricked his interest.
I finally plucked up the courage to kiss H goodbye at King's Cross today. I am sure that R will have noticed. Perhaps he will take the hint! I hope so.
Harry frowned. So, was that why Hermione had kissed him? He remembered being pleasantly surprised at the time, but had she really just been using him to make Ron jealous?
Hermione had clearly reserved this diary for her time at Hogwarts, as there was no mention of her activities during the school holidays that summer. The next entry moved onto the train journey to school at the beginning of their fifth year, when she and Ron were acting as prefects for the first time. With all of the problems with Umbridge, occlumency lessons with Snape, taking their OWLS and the final horrible night at the Ministry, Harry had no wish to revisit memories of that year and so, missing out a large chunk of the diary, he selected a page at random close to the back cover. He found that he had moved forward to just before Christmas of the following year; their lower sixth year at Hogwarts.
As members of the Slug club, H and I have been invited to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party. Given the way that things have been going, this is really my last chance to see if there is any hope at all. I'm going to invite R to come with me and see if I get any type of reaction. If that fails, there's always McLaggen, although that has to be a last resort!
Harry was conscious of the time that he was taking and so he didn't read further but turned over to the last few pages. Hermione had clearly had the diary with her during their hunt for the horcruxes and an entry, filled with evident despair, leapt out at him from the page.
R left today and it was my fault! He is jealous because H and I have been spending so much time together. I've told him that there is nothing between us, but he doesn't believe me.
There were then two lines where the text had been heavily scored out and could no longer be read. Hermione had clearly had a change of heart and decided to ensure that these particular thoughts remained hidden. However, the meaning of the final two sentences in this entry was only too clear.
H is really behaving strangely and can't seem to get motivated. What on earth am I going to do without R?
"Could you find it, Harry?"
Harry jumped and his heart started racing. It was Hermione, calling from down in the hallway and he heard the faint sound of wood protesting as a foot moved onto the bottom stair. He snapped the diary shut and quickly pushed it back into its' place under the pillow, as if it had suddenly become hot to touch.
"Um, yeah. I've…I've just been sorting through, to see what is here," he stammered, flustered. "I'll be right down."
Harry crossed to the dressing table and hurriedly retrieved the cardboard box before making his way loudly back out onto the landing, to ensure that Hermione realised that he was coming down and wouldn't progress any further. He felt guilty and ashamed and he was sure that the false smile that flittered across his lips as he turned the corner of the stairs and caught sight of Hermione waiting at the bottom, would betray him. Hermione looked puzzled but turned and moved away, back towards the kitchen, without saying anything. Harry couldn't face Hermione after what he had done and, making his apologies, he soon left for home, graciously agreeing that Ginny should stay overnight at the Burrow. However, as he arrived back to a cold, empty house, Harry had to admit that at least his intrusive peek at Hermione's old diary had answered one question for him. Even without his induced infatuation with Ginny, he had never had any chance with Hermione. Her thoughts had always been focused on Ron.