I'll Tell You a Secret
A/N: This is not me going insane. I haven't started another crazy chapter story that must be added to my incredibly long queue of 'to be continued's. This is a birthday gift for my friend honourweasley12 over on LiveJournal! It will be in two parts. This is part one. I'll upload part two in a few days. I hope you enjoy it! Happy birthday, K!
3 March 1997
1:00am
Hermione paced back and forth, down the length of a narrow infirmary cot. On an ordinary day, she'd fret about how she really shouldn't be here, out of bed in the middle of the night like this. She was breaking rules again. But, if there was any space left in her head for rational thought, it was occupied with a constant barrage of replayed memories, searching for the details that could have changed the course of everything, had she not been so... so...
She sniffed and covered her nose with a wrinkled tissue, blinking rapidly.
The creak of bed springs resounded over the light patter of rain against the dark, paned windows. And her eyes widened as she watched, suspended between inhale and exhale as a shaggy ginger head turned against a feather pillow.
Now was the moment she'd put off thinking about. And, suddenly faced with it, she was sure she wasn't really ready. She was bound to make a mistake.
He was alive! What could she do or say that could possibly mean a damn thing now?
His voice cracked as he tried to say something, incomprehensible. And, unable to contain herself, she sobbed, covering her mouth as tears cascaded from her red eyes to roll down her blotchy cheeks.
He made another sound, and she could see, through the blur of her tears, that he was looking right at her...
Too late now to make an escape, she edged closer to the head of his cot. And as she blinked her vision clear again, she saw a new expression across his too-pale face: confusion mingled with hope and something close to fear. And she collapsed into the chair at his bedside.
"You're alive," she stated, voicing the single mantra now running wild through her brain.
"I... I reckon so," he choked out before coughing fitfully and sitting up further against his pillows to cover his mouth and duck his head.
"Here," she said quickly, fumbling for a glass of water on his bedside table. She handed it to him, and when he'd settled enough to take it, he spent far too much time staring at her hand wrapped around the glass before finally accepting it with a mouthed 'thanks'.
He drank. And she watched him swallow, still sniffing and trying to breathe steadily through the threat of another onslaught of tears.
"What are you doing here?" he asked hoarsely as he lowered the now-empty glass.
She bit back waves of sarcastic retorts, anger abated by the sheer fact that she could see him breathing, lungs filling with each rise of his chest.
"You were poisoned," she said dumbly, cheeks burning as she waited for him to roll his eyes. But he didn't.
"I know, I remember," he said, sinking back against his headboard, still clutching the empty water cup.
His fingers tapped nervously against the glass, and her eyes were too distracted by him to jerk away, even when she felt him noticing. But finally, she sensed him preparing to speak again, and she looked up to watch his lips move.
"That still doesn't explain what you're doing here."
He coughed again, and she stood, sighing through a sob to take the glass from his hand and refill it, fingers lightly touching his as she hastily went about her task. He watched, tense, as she handed the glass back to him.
"Just take it," she said with a bit more volume and force than she had wanted. But he obliged, and she sat down again, arms tightly wrapped around her shivering body. "If I'm so horrible to you, just ask me to go. I can't possibly still be offended by you now..." But though her sharp words chilled the air between them, there was no truth in her statement. No matter how much she wanted it to be true, he could always still hurt her. And somehow, it seemed, he always would.
"You're not horrible," he said quickly, and she held her breath, waiting for the 'but'... but it never came.
She sighed, squeezing her arms even tighter around her own body.
"So, what do you want me to say?" she choked out. "We were friends once, weren't we? Or was that all an act for Harry?"
"For Harry?" Ron asked, dumbfounded.
"Just because we share a friend... well, that doesn't mean we're anything more than... his two best friends," she explained quickly, and Ron deflated as if she'd slapped him.
"Is that what you've been thinking, that I'm not really your friend? That... I don't want to be?" he asked, speaking rather smoothly considering his raw throat and the effects of the myriad of potions he'd been administered since his poisoning.
"How should I know?" Hermione spat, narrowing her eyes. But the effect was useless as another round of fresh tears gathered and fell softly from the corners of her eyes.
Ron sighed and closed his eyes, allowing his head to sink fully into his highly stacked pillows.
"Do you know why we always fight?" he asked, voice dropping to a nearly inaudible decibel.
She opened her mouth to reply, but found quickly that she had no idea what to say. Why did they always fight? Considering the way she saw him, everything she wanted... it made no sense. He was infuriating, but why? And why, if she felt that way, could she feel... that other way... at the same time?
"I don't know," she whispered, hopelessly.
He opened his eyes and looked at her, and as she looked back, she lost the need for apologies. The words she'd dreamt of hearing him say disappeared. All she needed was this moment. And though it concerned her, the fact that she simply lacked the strength to resist him, she had no great desire to change. And that was why, she was certain, she never would. The pain of their rows was always worth it in the end, when he'd look at her... when she could imagine...
But then, every once in a while, he'd truly surprise her...
"Hermione, I'm really, really sorry."
It was better than a million Gryffindor points.
"Ron!" she wailed. "I'm sorry, too!"
He laughed, the giddy laugh of a person who had been holding their breath for rejection... who had won what they desired but never thought possible.
"Friends again?" he asked.
"Please," she sighed, nodding as she wiped tear tracks from her cheeks with her jumper sleeve.
"Just like that?" he said, eyes wide. "You haven't got any stipulations for me?"
She blinked at him.
Well, when he put it like that...
She scooted her chair closer to his bed.
"You give me one and I'll give you one."
"That's fair?" he asked, arching an adorable eyebrow. She grinned.
"One for each of our you-know-whos."
And though her unnamed nemesis had been spoken of aloud, she grinned wider as he blinked back at her. The left corner of his mouth twitched and she felt so much lighter all of a sudden.
"Right," he said, committing to his own grin. "You go first." And he shifted around against his pillows, making himself more comfortable.
She bit her lip as she considered. Anything. She could ask for anything.
A montage of fantasies played out, but in the end, all she really wanted was to never end up here again, facing death with pending apologies lingering in the 'somewhere', knowing that with one more wrong turn, she'd never find her way back.
"Next time you're angry with me about something," she began, "you have to tell me what's going on instead of... snogging the nearest girl."
Ron raised both eyebrows now.
"I wasn't angry."
"Oh, that's just simply not true," Hermione replied quickly, narrowing her eyes at him again.
"No, it's just that angry's not exactly... the right adjective."
"Mind telling me what is 'the right adjective'?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms over her chest again.
"Dunno..." he mumbled, and her frustration turned to confusion as she watched his neck redden.
They sat in silence for a long moment, and it became obvious that Ron wasn't going to elaborate. So, sighing slowly, Hermione let her eyes slip shut, exhaustion edging ever closer. When she opened them again, Ron was looking at her apologetically once more, and she allowed a small smile to cross her face as he watched her carefully.
"Well, it's your turn."
"What for?" he asked, clearing his dry throat. And she had the impression that he'd been utterly lost in some hidden thought, something just out of her grasp. And given the way he'd been looking at her...
She forced herself not to think too much about it, and set her mind on the solid task of reminding him that she owed him a stipulation.
"You have to tell me something you want me to do."
"Oh!" He shifted uncomfortably against his pillows again before freezing, biting his lip, and staring at her. "Tell me a secret."
She sat in silence for a drawn out moment, caught off guard by his request. But now that he'd asked... well, it was like she'd just been given an open invitation to tell him about... that. But she was far too unprepared for it, when it came down to it. It felt wrong somehow, like such an important moment should not be marred by a demand. She had to choose when she'd tell him herself. This was monumental in getting it all right. And she only had one shot. And after all, she was never one to walk into an exam unprepared.
So she made a choice. And, trembling, she spoke.
"My secret is... I have a secret, but I can't tell you yet... but I think you might know what it is."
He watched her so closely, and she was sure he was holding his breath. His eyes darted, shining in the lantern light, and for a solid minute, the room was full of nothing but the sounds of their breathing, the rain on the windows, and the light snoring of another occupant across the ward.
But finally, taking a deep breath, she spoke again...
"Also, I only went with McLaggen because I was angry... and because I wanted you to care."
She watched him swallow, watched his fingers toy absently, nervously, with a pick in the blanket over his legs. And finally, he nodded.
"Well, and I only went with Lavender because I was... some unnamed adjective... and also because I wanted you to care."
Her heart beat firmly, pounding in her ears. Her stomach churned, and she felt far too queasy to risk saying anything else. So, shivering, she stood, chair scraping inelegantly across the marble floor... and she stooped over him, avoiding eye contact at all costs...
And she hugged him. For much longer than was normal between two friends.
It took him until the very last second to move his arms around her too, just when she feared she'd done something wrong... gone too far. But he clutched her, and she felt his nose in her hair. And then it was over. It was finished, and she was standing again, noisily sniffing against her jumper sleeve.
"I should probably let everyone know you're awake," she whispered, laughing at her selfishness, keeping his consciousness a secret for her own benefit, really. And she could tell he was nodding now, though she refused to look directly at him.
She nodded too, turned away, and began to walk towards the doors. But, just after the tenth step, she turned back to face him... to find him watching her with soft eyes, an expression of relief blatantly plastered across his face.
"Ron?" she began timidly, voice oddly high pitched and hardly recognizable as her own.
"Mmm?" he croaked.
"Let me know if you need help catching up with your classes."
He grinned, and she grinned back, unavoidable.
"I always will," he said, eyes squinted with the intensity of his smile.
She nodded again, ducked her head slightly, and turned to continue her trek towards the doors.
"Hermione?" he called out, and she laughed at the absurdity of the situation as she turned back towards him again.
"Yes?" she asked, grinning broadly at him from across the room.
"Thanks for caring if I died," he said with that low, rough voice that she was beginning to grow quite fond of...
"Shut up, Ron," she teased, and he burrowed into his pillows with a contented smile as she turned away for the last time.
The infirmary exit loomed in front of her, and she half-expected him to call out to her once again. She could feel his eyes burning a hole through her back. But then she was through the doors, standing in the cold, empty corridor beyond...
And she had never felt happier.