Unofficial Portkey Archive

Well, I'm finally remembering where I wanted to go with this so… luckily I won't forget until I finish the last part, which it's not even a word yet.

Something I forgot to mention before, if not, ignore it. THIS, this fic was written back when I still liked Ron, before I re-read the books and realized how much of a git he is sometimes, even at the very epilogue. Back then I still thought of the Golden Trio, etc.

I still think of those three like that, but mostly when thinking of the movies, because movie!Ron is not that much of a jerk compared to book!Ron.

So, anyway, if Ron were to ever grow up (which, unfortunately, it didn't happen), I thinks this is how he would turn out to be.

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We are sorry, Hermione.

Four words. That's all it takes to make this Christmas holidays miserable.

She stares at the letter in her hands, feeling the tears burning in the corner of her eyes, but she blinks them back furiously. Frowning and biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, Hermione crumbles the letter and throws it into the fireplace and hopes it burns all the hurt away.

But it doesn't. Her parents' letter is still engraved into her head.

"Damn it…"

What are they sorry for, anyway? She knew the consequences of her actions were going to be unpleasant, and would cause her many pain in the end, but it had to be done.

"Damn it."

She had to help Harry. Her parents have to understand that, they will understand; they just need time, they said so themselves, in their letter, just a little time.

We are sorry, Hermione. We just need time.

Before she can dwell on the letter any longer, she hears Ron coming down the stairs, dragging his trunk along. Hastily, she wipes the tears that had been about to fall, making sure she looks alright, and then continues pretending to read her book. However, the moment Ron speaks, she knows her attempts at normalcy are futile.

"Hey, Hermione, what did the letter…?"

Her face twists into a grimace, and she bits her lower lip again. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Ron looking intently at her hardened expression and then at the fireplace, where the half-burned letter lays (not quite) forgotten, realization dawns over him and then he's at her side on the couch, pulling away her book and hugging her tight as she tries to hold back the tears.

"Oh, blimey, Hermione…" he says, and remains quiet.

He starts rubbing circles on her back awkwardly, trying his best to comfort her despite the fact that he doesn't know how, and she appreciates the sentiment because she knows he must feel out of place in this situation. So, pulling back from his embrace, she wipes the few tears that managed to escape away and gives him a watery smile. Ron smiles back, and strokes her head as an older brother would, never mind that he is younger than her.

They stay silent after that, neither one of them knowing what to say; she doesn't want to talk and he doesn't know if he should. Hermione's inwardly pleased that the Common Room is mainly deserted and that Ron seemed to be the only one eager enough to start his holidays, as he's the only one done packing. The least thing she needs right now is an audience witnessing her breakdown.

Ron pats her head lightly and she sighs, turning to look at the fireplace again. She can feel the redhead's gaze on her face, searching for something, for what, she doesn't know, but eventually he gives up, because he ends up asking anyways.

"So, what does this mean?" he says tentatively.

"It means that I won't be going home for Christmas," she replies and smiles sadly at him. "But it's not like I didn't expect this to happen, you know. I was well aware of the consequences when I decided to Obliviate them. I just didn't think…"

Ron takes her hand in his and squeezes it a little. "Didn't think what?"

I just didn't think it'd cause this much damage. That it'd hurt so bloody much.

She shakes her head and doesn't reply, instead turns to look at the fireplace again, at the half-burned letter (she ought to make it burn completely, but can't seem to find the strength to do so) that is not close enough to the fire to become ashes yet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledges the fact the Common Room is filling with Gryffindor students rather quickly, as more and more students are finishing packing, but none of those students are the one she's been waiting for.

"Uh… You can always come to the Burrow with us."

Hermione looks at him surprised, but shakes her head, smiling apologetically at him, hand still clasped tight between his own. "No, Ron, I can't. But thank you, anyway."

"Is it because of Harry and Ginny?"

The question makes her tense completely and she tries valiantly to supress this reaction, not wanting Ron to see it. But with the new dynamic their relationship acquired, he sees right through her efforts. Or maybe the whole letter thing left her drained and she no longer possesses the strength to put herself together.

"It is."

Hermione cringes slightly, but nods. And it isn't that she doesn't want to spend Christmas with Harry or Ginny, but… seeing them together this past term had almost broke her, she honestly doesn't know how she managed to keep her cheery façade when they were together within her vicinity. If she were to spend these holidays with the Weasleys, and with her parents letters engraved in her mind, Hermione knows she'll crumble under the pressure of repressed feelings and that could not happen, not if the result is a troubled and, more likely, unhappy Harry.

It is her own fault, after all, that she took so long to accept her feelings for her green-eyed best friend. It is her own fault she fell in love with him.

"Hermione…"

She turns to Ron, seeing his worried eyes searching her face, and manages to give him a tentative smile that does everything but appease his concern. "I'll be fine, Ron. Really, I will."

He frowns sternly at her, casting a furtive glace around them to ensure no one is looking their way, and drops his voice to a whisper. "Why don't you just tell him, Hermione?"

"I don't want to be the one taking away his happiness."

His exasperated sigh is warning enough for the upcoming argument; the only real argument they have nowadays, as the other discussions are more out of habit than for a real reason. "But he's not happy, he hasn't been happy since the start of term, at least not completely! Ginny can't make him happy, Hermione, and you know it!"

Ron hisses these words angrily, but Hermione refuses to reply, knowing she's only capable of snapping now and that will most definitely lead to a full out argument. Oh, she wants to answer back, she wants to scowl him for saying that, for disregarding his sister like that, but really, Ron is right. Harry isn't happy.

And that's her main problem with spending Christmas with the Weasley clan, having to see Harry trying to cope with the aftermath of the War while pretending to be happy for everyone else's sake. If only Ginny were capable to understand him fully, his fears, his frustration… Hermione would be fine with their renewed relationship, but… but the youngest Weasley seems to have gotten into her head that avoiding the issue is best for Harry, that force him into a normal life is the answer when in reality all Harry needs is someone to lean on, someone who'd willingly take his worries and sorrows from him.

Someone like me, the thought comes unbidden and it makes her frown, wondering at the selfishness of it.

Instead, he gets Ginny, who's been trying for months to mould him into this Celebrity and Hero she has idealized since she was a little kid.

"Hermione-"

"What do you want me to do, Ron? He wants to be with Ginny and he's never ever seen me like that! I'm just-"

"You don't know if he's ever seen you like-Harry!"

Hermione freezes at the mention of his name, and the shock on Ron's face tells her he hadn't seen him coming until it was probably too late. When she gathers enough courage to glace at him, Harry's looking at them with an odd expression on his face. An awkward silence falls over them for a few seconds before Ron coughs lightly and excuses himself, saying something about forgetting his Quidditch magazines on his desk. After he leaves, Harry takes his place on the couch next to her, giving her an even odder look.

"Um… are you…done packing?"

She wants to curse herself for asking something so lame, as the answer is rather obvious what with his trunk being right next to him. But Harry, being Harry, only smiles at her and nods, and then sends her a questioning look.

"What about you? I thought you'd be done packing by now."

His question makes her squirm in her seat, for she doesn't know what to say. The right thing to do, would be telling him what had happened with her parents, about the letter, but if she were to tell him the truth, Harry would no doubt blame himself for this rift between the Grangers and she could not-will not ruin this Christmas for him. Harry would have a Happy Christmas, even at the cost of her own.

Hermione smiles at him, albeit sadly, to which he gives her a questioning look but never voices his concerns as she speaks first, telling the only truth she can. "My trunk's upstairs."

Harry smiles at her and, after what seems a moment of hesitation, grabs her hand, giving it a light squeeze. "I can help you carry it down, if you want…"

His offer is unnecessary and they know it, for a simple hovering charm would do the job and Hermione is nothing if not brilliant with her spell work. She appreciates the sentiment though, his effort at trying to put two years of awkwardness behind them, however fruitless it is (because now that there are no life-risking situations, she can feel the distance between them like a bottomless abyss).

"That's alright, Harry, uh… Ron will help me with it," she smiles apologetically, supressing her wince at both her blatant lie and the disappointing look on his face.

"Oh, alright…"

She's about ready to apologize and tell him everything, wanting to do something to erase the disappointment from his handsome face, anything, but a flash of silky red and its rightful owner appearing later makes her stop and grit her teeth.

"Oh, Hermione! I'm so glad you're working on your problems with Ron! Merlin knows my brother can be a bit of a git sometimes…" Ginny trails off, sitting next to Harry (more like on top of him), and loops her arms around the bewildered boy. "But don't worry, he'll come around and you'll be together in no time."

Her saccharine sweet smile doesn't fool her, Hermione knows that youngest Weasley is seething at the fact that she'd been talking with Harry. Whatever prompted this sudden hostility from Ginny, she doesn't know, but it is getting tiresome and it's only another reason for her to not spend Christmas with the Weasleys. She'd like to believe it's because of her break up with Ron, but really, that was a mutual decision.

It can't be because of Harry, can it? I mean… I'm not that obvious… am I?

Just then, she notices Harry's odd expression, the very same he had when he had seen her talking with Ron minutes ago. An expression she can't quite comprehend. But it's almost like… almost like…

"Can it, Ginny. How many times do I have to tell you? There is nothing between Hermione and I, there never was."

Ron, bless his soul, lets his trunk fall next to them, effectively drawing Ginny's attention from her, and engages into a glaring match with his sister. Harry, on the other hand, keeps his eyes locked with hers, as if trying to peer into her mind, to read her like he used to, way back when their friendship was the strongest of all, before 6^th Year, before the disaster that was their 7^th Year… the Final Battle…

Hermione knows she could let him see, see her every thought, her very soul, but… that would give her away, it would reveal too much too soon and most likely bring forward too many complications, so mustering all her acting skill, those that had helped her all through 6^th Year, she gives him a bright smile.

Before Harry can reply to her smile, Ginny jumps to her feet, visibly enraged, and grabs his arm, hauling him to his feet. "Come on, Harry, it's time to go."

Her tone is cold and clipped and without further ado, she drags Harry out of the Common Room, barely giving him time to grab his trunk. The boy sends her a pleading look, trying to convey his discomfort at having to deal with a raging Ginny, but all she can do is smile apologetically at him, again. The portrait slams closed, and Hermione doesn't need the specifics to know that whatever it was the Weasley siblings were discussing, it wasn't pretty and it certainly didn't end well for the youngest redhead.

"You know… sometimes, I wonder about her…"

Ron's comment makes her sigh and just for the sake of habit, she gives him a stern look. "Ron, she's your sister."

He looks blissfully ignorant to her unspoken reprimanding, but that is to be expected. "I know, that's why I wonder."

She rolls her eyes, but comments no further. "Hurry up; you don't want to miss the carriages to Hogsmeade," she says, standing up, grabbing her book and heading for the stairs to the Dorms.

"You didn't tell him."

"Ron, the carriages-"

"You do know he's going to throw a fit once he realizes you're not on the train, right?"

Hermione turns to look at her red-haired best friend, heaving an exasperated sigh. "I know, okay? But I trust you to be able to help him cool off and enjoy his holidays. If you must, tell him you didn't know either. Now hurry or they'll leave you. I need to finish your presents, so go."

Ron, however doesn't move, instead starts stalking towards her. "When are you two going to fix this?"

"Ron-"

"No, Hermione. This rift between you two, it's been growing since 6^th Year. What with all we've been through together-all that you've been through together, it shouldn't be there, this… this chasm. What happened? Why are you suddenly so awkward around each other? I don't think it's because of me or you for that matter."

"It's not Ginny, Ron, so stop right there."

"You're lying though, it is partly her fault, and maybe mine too. But then, it might as well be our, the four of us, entire fault. The point is, Hermione, that you should've fixed it already, moved past it. You should've gone back to completing each other's thoughts, sharing private jokes, having silent conversations… back to how things were before the disaster of this last two years."

"You think of those years as disasters too?"

"I think we should've never let ourselves drift so much apart."

It really is impressive how much she hated it when Ron is right, especially with something she isn't ready to face just yet. But he is right, these past two years had been nothing if not weird and disastrous, they grew up too much too fast, hence changing completely from the carefree teens they once were and… worst of all, they drifted apart, the Golden Trio not so golden anymore.

"You've felt it too, uh?"

Ron sighs tiredly and nods. "Yeah… Even with the Horcrux Hunt, with the looming threat over our heads, it's still felt different, like… like nothing was ever going to be the same."

"After all that's happened, Ron, you can't expect things to remain unchanged… This War… We changed, everything changed. It's inevitable."

"Yeah, but not us. Not our friendship. That's the one thing that never ought to change, the bond we share."

He wants to say more, but she doesn't let him, instead Hermione smiles sadly at him and urges him to go. He complies but stops at the portrait hole.

"You promise me to fix this thing with Harry after the holidays, Hermione, or else."

She grins at him, grateful to see him revert to his normal self. "I promise."

"And stop being so stubborn and immature, I'll say this to Harry too of course, because you know I'm the immature one of the Trio and that's a title I'm not ready to give up just yet."

Her grin fades as soon as Ron's out of sight and reality falls over her.

She's alone, for the first time in seven years she's really, truly alone.

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It really is impressive how much she hated it when Ron is right.

True to his word, Harry had thrown a fit once he realized she hadn't been at the Hogwarts Express. And according to the quick note Ron had sent her, probably from the train still, he had managed to calm their friend, albeit with great effort. She had been having dinner with the students that had stayed at the school and the professors (it was, after all, Christmas' Eve), when the note arrived and she'd retreated to Gryffindor Tower shortly after to write back, hoping to do some damage control.

So imagine her shock when, upon entering the Common Room, she'd been greeted with the sight of Harry sitting comfortably in front of the fire.

And here she is now, standing by the entrance, with no clue as to what to do, what to say, how to act. Then, a sudden feeling of dread engulfs her as she notices the piece of paper he's holding in his hands-her parents' letter. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, to explain the existence of the letter and… the reason why he's been unaware of it.

"You didn't tell me," he says, so quietly that she almost believes it's a figment of her imagination.

"Harry-"

"You told Ron, but you didn't tell me… why?"

"I…"

"This is not the first thing you've hidden from me, ever since the War ended… There's something else you're not telling me, I know it… I can feel it, Hermione."

She remains silent, wishing the earth would swallow her whole before she does something to break her relationship with Harry for good. He stands up, her parent's letter grasped tightly in his hand, and turns to face her, an unreadable look on his handsome face.

"Why didn't you tell me about your parents? You know I would have stayed here if I had known…" he trails off miserably, clenching his jaw as if trying to rein in his emotions, which is probably true; his very stand screaming feelings of guilt and regret.

"This is why. You're already feeling guilty over something you didn't do," she says earnestly. "Harry, I chose to erase their memories and send them away. I performed the spell myself. You had nothing to do with it; I did it to ensure their protection. I could have done it differently, I could have talked to them and explain the situation. I could have convinced them to go away, but I didn't. Instead… I chose to erase their memories."

"But you only did that because of me! You said so yourself, you-"

"No. I did it because it was only a matter of time before Voldemort found my home. I couldn't have gone on The Hunt knowing that any day could be my parents' last day, that's why I sent them away, with no memories of their daughter. This rift in my family is not your fault, Harry. And I didn't want to tell you because you deserve to have a careless, happy Christmas now." Hermione sighs regretfully and stares at him sadly, still not being able to recognize the look on his face. "But obviously, I failed at ensuring that."

The silence feels oppressing; neither knows what to say to… to close the chasm separating them.

Harry glances down at the letter in his hand, frowns briefly and looks up at her in such a way that it makes Hermione want to flee. "What else aren't you telling me, Hermione?"

She blinks slowly, trying not to show her rising panic, unsurprisingly succeeding. "There's nothing else."

His jaw clenches painfully, barely containing the scowl attempting to appear on his face. "Do not lie to me."

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

"I can tell, Hermione!"

"Can you?"

The venom behind those words surprises even her, and by the looks of it, it is enough to render Harry speechless. Hermione doesn't know why she's suddenly so angry, but she is; she's enraged. Everything is coming to its boiling point and she no longer has all the answers, she no longer can predict what's going to happen or even make a close assumption. She only knows she's angry at everyone and everything: her life, the War, the choices she's had to make and Harry. She's so angry at Harry and his inability to recognize all the bloody signals she's dropped over the years quite literally on his lap, all those little things she's been doing for him -to keep him safe, to make him happy- that tell him, loud and clear, how she truly feels for him.

She's been so bloody obvious it's a wonder how he hasn't seen it yet. And that makes her so bloody mad.

"Can you really, Harry?" She very well spats those words, and plunders on without allowing him to talk. "You can tell when I'm hiding something from you, but you cannot bloody tell when I'm dropping anvil-sized hints on your lap about my feelings?! How could you miss that, when the whole freaking Wizarding World could see it, yet you see something I'm hiding!?"

Harry gapes at her, his anger forgotten along with the letter on his hand; he says nothing, standing there dumbstruck.

"Or were you just being purposely ignorant to it in lieu of clearing Ron's path? Because he's your best friend and who the bloody hell cares what I want, what your sister wants?"

He breathes in sharply, his eyes widening as the last words leave her mouth and he knows. Of course he knows what she's talking about.

"Ron told me, Harry, what happened the night you two destroyed the locket. I had to drag it out of him, but he told me. The question is, why didn't you tell me? Why would you hide something like that from me, and yet stand here and accuse me of doing the same?"

Hermione doesn't wait for him to react; she walks by him and straight up the stairs, locking herself in her room as soon as she reaches it. She knows she never answered Harry's question, not directly but now he probably knows what her big secret is and she no longer cares.

She just wants the pain and the awkwardness and the distance to go away.

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If someone would have told her last year that she would be spending this Christmas Eve in such a state of distress, Hermione wouldn't have believed it.

Because, you see, last year she accompanied Harry while he visited his parents' graves. Supported him in his time of sorrow, summoned Christmas roses for him to pay his respects and everything. It was a sad, heart-breaking night, but she was with Harry, they had each other and for a brief moment they connected in their time of need.

Now she's alone, sitting once again in the Room of Requirements, in front of the Mirror of Erised.

She should inform Professor-Headmistress McGonagall and have it confiscated.

"What do you see?"

Really, the fact that his sudden appearance doesn't startle her should amount to something, but as it is, Hermione is simply too exhausted to care. So, she doesn't react at all, simply remains sitting in front of the mirror.

Harry doesn't seem deterred by her silence and sit next to her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see him fiddling with the Marauders' Map. After a while, he starts talking again. "The first time I looked into the Mirror, it was Christmas, our First Year. I saw my parents and grandparents and I guess several older generations of Potters behind them."

She glances at him briefly, before focusing on the image the Mirror keeps showing her.

Harry talks again. "I haven't looked at it since, but I suppose the image would be the same. Maybe it would have some additions…"

Hermione cringes, while thinking of Ginny being one of those additions.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have thrown those accusations at you, I know you wouldn't-"

"It's okay," she interrupts, because she would-she did. "I shouldn't have reacted like I did, it was uncalled for and… I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"I guess these past two years finally caught up to us, uh?"

Hermione chuckles weakly and hears Harry do the same because that has to be the understatement of the year. "Yeah, I guess."

"Can we fix it, Hermione? I don't want to lose you. You are… one of the most important persons in my life."

She looks at him then, and sees the anguish that's been plaguing for God's know how long, his eyes pleading with her to give him a positive answer. Hermione feels her resolve breaking, and she wraps her arms around him, because she simply cannot stand to see Harry so sad.

"I don't know, Harry. I truly hope we can, because… because you are one of the most important persons in my life too," she says, whispers really, pressing her face to the side of his neck. It is necessary to hide her eyes from him now, because what she really wants to say is that he is the most important person in her life.

But can they? Can they really fix this? When they both know the other is keeping secrets from them?

Harry reacts only seconds later and embraces her back; he places his chin on top of her head at an angle she knows will allow him to look into the Mirror without trouble.

"So, what do you see when you look into the Mirror?"

Hermione pulls back to focus on the Mirror's reflection, her arms remain wrapped around his shoulder loosely.

And she sees this moment.

She and Harry sitting side by side, their arms wrapped around each other. Only, their embrace is a loving one, in the Mirror, and they are both smiling at each other. Hermione kisses his cheek and nose from time to time, and Harry reciprocates by kissing her lips lightly, lovingly as well. The love shining in Harry's eyes is hard to miss.

Hers is a simple desire.

"Hermione?"

She turns back to him and gives him a weak smile before answering. "You. I see you."

And she presses a chaste kiss against his lips.

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I'll leave this marked as complete because I don't know when I'll have the final part ready. So, yeah I hope you enjoyed Hermione's POV.

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