HULLO Gentle readers!
Hey, I know I have no right putting out completely irrelevant stories when I got two major pieces in dire need of writing, but when inspiration hits, there's no turning back. Anyways, no long speal, just a quick dedication and we'll be on with it.
I'd like to dedicate this story to SuishouTenshi and her recent piece "A Mark of You and Me". I just read it and was instantly in a state of despair as SOON as I saw it was based on Anderson's Little Mermaid. Incase you guys are sitting there with little question marks above your heads, wondering how on EARThthe little mermaid could be sad,allow me to clarify. Hans Christen Anderson wrote the original The Little Mermaid, NOT Walt Disney. Anderson's version has the basic plot of "princess saves human, princess falls inlove, princess goes to evil witch, princess becomes human, princess is mute,(NOW we get out of the Disney woodworks), princess has razors in her feet everytime she walks, princess realizes prince is marrying other princess who supposedly saved him, princess gets potion blade from sisters and must kill prince in order to turn back into a mermaid, princess throws herself into the ocean and dies."
Now, that was all changed into the Elven world and Draco was the "mermaid princess" while Harry was the prince...In other words, DEPRESSING! So! In order to not want to launch myself off the closest tall object, I set to writing an angsty story that ends wonderfully fluffy. So, here it is! Enjoy and review!
Emerin
P.S. Wish me luck! I graduate and start my massage externship in A WEEK!
I can honestly say I've never seen him this bad before. But what did I expect? It's not like a guy can just walk away from a situation like this and be ok. He's not ME afterall.
I mean, he's had his moments. He's had the maturity of a five-year old more than once. He IS a redhead afterall.
But not this.
I didn't expect him to become this. I don't even recognize him anymore. The fire that was in his eyes has gone out. The thing that gets me is I don't even remember when it finally did. I don't remember if I was even there to stop it. Or even if I could have.
I started to really worry then they stopped fighting. I mean, they've always fought; it was some twisted form of communication for them. I expected atleast HER to keep him alive, if not me. But then I underestimated her. And her fear.
"No, it's NOT ok!"
"But Hermione-"
"NO! STOP it ! I don't want to hear it!"
"'Mione, I think-"
"Just shut up, Ron! Shut up and leave me alone!"
I'm getting ahead of myself.
I was glad when they had gotten together. I actually had the words "bout bloody time!" pass my lips. I wasn't exactly jealous…Ok, maybe a little. But I had good reason. What was once the 'Golden Trio' became the 'Golden Duo …and Harry Potter.'
In their hurry to make up for lost time, I was ostracized, isolated. But it was ok. He was happy…
That is, until the war breeched our Hogwarts lives just before Christmas holidays.
"Mr. Weasley, a word in private…And you should come too, Potter, Granger."
"What is it, Professor McGonagal?"
"Well, I'll get straight to the point. There's been a massive Death-Eater attack."
"What! Where? Is anyone hurt?"
"Calm down, Potter. There's…There's been casualties…"
"Where was it Professor?"
"…The aurors were distracted by a muggle slaughtering deep in London, they weren't able to stop the main attacks in time-"
"WHERE Professor!"
"St. Ottery Catchpole."
"…No…"
"Oh my god…"
"As far as we know, they went down fighting."
"…no…"
"Unfortunately, Ginny Wqeasley's body was…was unaccounted for."
"NO!"
"Charlie is in critical care at St. Arthuria's in Germany after they attacked his camp, as for the others-"
"NO! NO NO NOOOOOO!"
"…There are no words to describe the loss I know you've suffered, Mr. Weasley…I'll leave you three now…"
"Oh god…Oh god, Harry…."
"I'm here, Ron."
"Oh god, Harry, they're dead! They're all gone!"
I never found the words to comfort him that night. I mean, they were the only family I'd ever gad. I, in a sense, lost them, too. I let him curl up in my bed, curtains drawn, and kept Hermione at bay, as per requested. But he never did cry.
It's only gotten worst since then.
At firsat, he was in denial. He would send letters home; he talked as if they had simply gone on holiday. Many a time I caught him waiting by the window, expecting the late Pig to return with their replies. I'd get my books and let him get on with it. I'm the last person to pass reality onto someone else. I remember Sirius only too well.
It wasn't until the funeral in early January that he retreated into what I now know as Ron Weasley.
That's when the fights started again. It began as a way for him to vent. He'd snap at the stupidest things, and we'd let him. Hell, he lost his entire family sans a comatose Charlie, we expected nothing less. But he just got worse. He used to lash out at anyone who'd bother with him (me being his favorite) but then it changed and the only one he got fired up for was Hermione.
I guess I saw it coming.
They spent more time alone together. They excluded me from conversations. One night, I was sitting at a table with him, doing my homework, when she walked in. His eyes went from dull to enraged in 5 seconds flat. He leapt up and dragged her up the boys' dormitories stairs and I didn't see them for the next half hour. When I was getting ready for bed, I guess I stepped into the Silencing Charm's boundries cause my ears then filled with the sounds of grunting and gasping, slapping and smacking. My stomach turned as I scrambled into bed and I tried to be happy that Ron was feeling again.
Their fights got horrible after that evening. I remember I had to hurry the younger years out of the common room at the language those two used. But only too soon, they started to argue outside our Tower. I think the last straw for him was when Hermione slapped him outside of Potions.
Draco Malfoy actually smirked that day. He hadn't smirked since the raid at his manor and an eager Auror blinded him. I'm pretty sure he blames that on me as well.
Ron lost it that afternoon. Instead of continuing to scream at her, however, his body slumped against the wall and his face went slack. I thought she'd stunned him or something, but once I put my hand to his chest and felt his breath, I realized he had just succumbed to the inevitable. As much as I hoped for him, I didn't expect him to carry on the way he had. I saw this coming, but it didn't make it any easier.
Over the next few days, he drew into himself more and more. Bags darkened under his eyes. He lost interest in chess and quidditch. His lips thinned and chapped. He stopped eating. His skin paled. I think even his fiery red hair lost its vitality. Classes had been reduced to 2 a week since most of the teachers were either gone or dead, so he stopped going all together.
So, I sit here across from him now, watching him listen with a deaf ear to Hermione tell us her parents are taking her home that very evening. I try to look shocked, but I'm just not. I knew she'd leave. What with the war drawing closer, Ron growing farther, their relationship failed and muggle-borns disappearing left and right, I knew it was only a matter of time…
"I'm sorry, " I say.
"It's not your fault, Harry, " She replies. But I know she knows it is. I can just tell by the way she looks from me to Ron and back to me.
When its time and her bags are being carried to the carriage, I summon a few tears for her sake. I'm sad to see her go, but she'll be safe. She says I'm foolish to think that.
"None of us are safe anymore, Harry. I'm only delaying the inevitable and spending whats left of my time with my family. You should do the same."
She doesn't believe anymore that I can beat Voldemort. I guess the Weasleys' deaths affected more than just my best friend's sanity.
Ron spares her a hug and watches with me as she disappears down the road, like so many others the past year.
We're in our dorm room now. He's staring out the window and I want to believe he's waiting for Mrs. Weasley's reply for the best way to remove broom polish from an invisibility cloak. I want to believe so bad, I find myself crying. It's just a silent stream of tears, but he notices anyways. He seems shocked. I suppose he should be. We've never cried infront of eachother before.
"It's ok, mate," he says. "She'll be ok."
He thinks I'm crying over Hermione. Sometimes his cluelessness is what breaks my heart most.
"Yeah." I mumble. No use confessing anything now. Its just not the time.
"Hermione, she…"
I look at him looking at the rainy sky. I wish his eyes would stop looking so empty. I wish his face would show some crack of emotion. Pain. Anguish. Anger. Despair. Insanity. SOMETHING!
"I lost my virginity to her. Did I tell you?"
The break in my heart cracks further. "No. How was it?"
He shrugs and I want to slug him. I practically died that night, and he just shrugs.
"It was all right I guess, not that I can compare it to anything anyways…."
Ok, true. But it still hurts.
"It's funny, though."
"What?"
He's looking at me now and I wish he wouldn't It makes me feel sick having his hollow eyes trained on me.
"I thought I'd feel something, you know? Oh, sure, it felt good physically, but inside it was like…it was like I was dead."
A flicker of something starts behind his eyes and my breath catches in my throat.
"I got mad at her. I know it was wrong, but I couldn't help it. She drew away from me. I got so scared. She kept threatening to leave me, so I did anything to keep her near me. I told her I loved her, so she slept with me again. After…after I threw up in the bathroom."
I'm startled at this sudden confession. All this time…" So the fights…?"
"Me trying not to lose her. I COULDN'T lose her, see? I…I just couldn't lose someone else."
And suddenly I understand. In vibrant, awful colors, I understand the reason behind Ron and everything that he was, is and will be.
He was a terrified and lonely 16-year old. He just became one of the last Weasleys, after being surrounded by them his entire life. Being thrusted from a warm, loving life into a cold bitter one isn't easy. I was only lucky I was a baby when it happened to me.
"Oh, Ron…"
Those two little words do more to him than anything Voldemort could've done. In moments, he's a crimpled, quaking mass in my arms.
"I don't want to be alone! I'm so scared, Harry!"
I frown and stroke his hair like I know his mum used to.
"It'll be ok, Ron."
"But will it? So many have died already. The order's given up hope."
"Well, I won't let it no be ok."
He pushes himself up and stares at me. All red hair, red eyes and red lips.
"I know people say you're not strong enough. I know they've stopped believing in you since You-Know-Who cursed Dumbledore. But you can't give up. You just CAN'T!"
I feel tears welling up. That's two times in the past ten minutes. He must think I'm such a crybaby.
"But Ron-"
"No! I won't let you give up hope! People are counting on you! I'M counting on you! You WILL kill that bugger. You WILL and I'm gonna help you."
After all that's happened, after all this poor soul's been pit through, he's still determined to be by my side at the front line.
"Ron, its suicide. You know I'll only let you down, though."
A strange grimace I'm sure was meant to be a smile graces his face.
"You haven't yet."
To say I'm confused is putting it lightly.
"You've been my best mate through all of this. When everyone else abandoned me, you stayed with me. When everyone else gave up on me, called me a lost cause, you listened and let me convince you it was gonna be all right. You gave me reason to keep believing. You gave me reason to keep believing in myself."
Ok, moved past confusion and now we're in Flustered Ville, Populous: Harry Potter.
"I know it was unfair to believe Hermione could be the family I'd need. Probably why she kept pushing me away. I probably downright scared her."
"Ron, you're not really making any sense." And you're scaring ME!
He smiles sadly and then there's a searing fire on my lips. Before I know what's happening, he's pinned me beneath him and his hips are making sensations rush from areas I didn't know were capable of feeling like this. He moans into my mouth and soon our hands are a flurry of movement as we shed eachother of his robes.
It was my first time.
I awake sometime in the twilight hours. I must've been out a good chunk of time. Thank god its Sunday. I feel cold for some reason. I soon realize that my lack of blankets and a bed buddy is the culprit, along with an opened window.
Ron is perched on the window seat, hair fluttering, mouth set, muscles tense beneath freckled skin.
My heart stops for a few moments as he hears my stirring and turns to look at me. The silence is suffocating and I'm sure facing Voldemort would be easier than waiting for Ron to speak to me. What if's run through my brain and I want to cry all over again at the hopelessness of my situation. What was I thinking! He would never love me…
Shifting my gaze down, I finally notice Hedwig perched on his knee and a letter in his hand. It's official looking, all written in generic scrawl. I frown.
"What's th-"
"Charlie's pulled through."
It's aw if he was waiting all month to say that. So I humor him.
"What?"
"Charlie. He's pulled through. Healers say it was a bloody miracle. One minute he's almost gone, next he's wide awake and demanding to be released."
I'm surprised. Ok, no I'm not. I AM Harry Potter. What good's my fame and money if I'm not going to use it to persuade a Master of the Healing Arts in the states to come see a client?
"That's…that's incredible."
Ron looks as if he's going to spontaneously combust. He throws aside the blankets he was wrapped in and tears across the room, slamming me back into the bed in a mess of limbs and tears.
"He's ok Harry! He's OK!"
I hug him tightly. It's starting to become a wonderful pattern.
"I told you he would be."
"But I didn't believe it. I know I said I did, but I never let myself believe. But YOU…you always knew."
I shrug. What could I say to that? I'm not Hermione, I don't enjoy the whole being right thing. Besides, it was just instinct.
"He says as soon as get gets out, he's coming to get me. He says he wants me to come with him to Iceland where our grandmum left us a cottage."
My stomach does that churning "oh GOD my life is over" thing its been prone to ever since I first discovered this beautiful boy and the feelings that came with him.
"You should go. You'll be safe and-"
"I want you with me, Harry."
The most beautiful six words to have ever fallen from his lips. And I stutter like an idiot.
"W-wha-huh?"
"When I leave, I want you to come with."
Breathe. Just breathe, Potter.
"But, Ron, Hogwarts….Voldemort…"
"They have a little wizarding school outside the village. Plus Charlie will teach us anything we'll need to know. Lets face it mate. Even with you here, Hogwarts just hasn't been safe since Dumbledore left."
"True."
The pause must've lasted ages if my chilly skin was anything to go by. His eyes bore into me, but I don't look back. I need a few more moments to think properly. Leave Hogwarts/ Leave England? Leave my friends? RUN?
Upside: Living with Ron and Charlie. Downside: Unable to help anyone in time.
Upside: Away from Voldie. Downside: Looking like a coward.
Upside: Ron. Downside: Everyone else.
Lord, why do decisions like this seem to land in MY lap more than anyone else's?
"H-harry…?"
Looking up, I make up my mind…And I realie it was nenver a choice for me in the first place. Seeing tears flowing down his flushed face, brown eyes shining unguarded and open all for me, I know I always belonged with this man. The war had stopped being about saving everyone from the horrible fate the Weasleys, Sirius, and my parents had suffered.
Now, it's only Ron. I only want to save HIM.
"I love you Ronald Weasley and I want to be with you until my dying breath."
His lips crush over mine, his large hands clutching me tightly and I watch as he sobs happily, completely exposed. And I know I've been waiting for this moment all my life.
To say I love him…and to see him cry.