A/N: Hi guys, this is my first HP fic, so please give me a little credit if things aren't the best they possibly could be (and constructive criticism is always appreciated!) This is a Dramione fic, but some things need to be set up before the story really gets going. Hope you enjoy My Load to Bear!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Just my imagination.
"Hermione, who the hell is that?" Ron looked over my shoulder at my scrapbook that had just arrived by owl, care of my parents. "And why isn't the picture moving? Were you pretending to be statues or some silly Muggle thing like that?"
I sighed internally. It seemed that Ron would never get accustomed to the fact that Muggle pictures didn't move, along with dozens of other 'normal' things from the non-wizarding world, despite the fact that his father was a Muggle fanatic. That was one of the many reasons I knew I would never end up dating Ron; I couldn't stand to repeat and explain things to people who didn't care in the first place. Luckily, Harry spoke up before I could.
"It's a Muggle picture, Ron. They don't move, remember? But he's probably not important. He doesn't go to school with us, does he 'Mione?" I shook my head.
"Nope, that's someone I met before both of you, back when I grew up in London. His name's Jake." I quirked a smile, remembering when I first got my Hogwarts letter, and he immediately shook the owl, trying to see where his had presumably gone. To his surprise, however, there was none. "He used to be my best friend." I have to keep myself from letting my face change into the grimace it feels necessary to use because of the past tense. Ron's eyes narrow at this title. Jealousy was not a feeling he hid well. I supposed that could be due to his fiery temper and limited emotional range. It was only a step down from anger, after all.
"Then why the bloody hell haven't we heard of him before? We're your best friends after all; shouldn't we have had a chance to check him out?" Ron began to flip through the pages, seeing just how many photos from my childhood included Jake, except until after the age of sixteen, where the pictures just stopped entirely. "And what happened? He just disappears from this book of your life?" I've never seen Ron act so belligerent since he found out I was going with Victor Krum to the Yule Ball. Then again, Jake wasn't so happy when he found out about Victor either. As I later found out.
"Because he's irrelevant at this point," I say, trying to shrug off his questions. I really don't want to get into this. It's one of the few things I've successfully managed to hide from Ron, which had been somewhat easy considering we were fighting the Darkest Wizard in all history. My issues became slightly less significant in the long scheme of things. Harry had managed to weasel it out of me during Ron's fling with Lavender Brown though. He had noticed I was hurt more than just by Ron being thicker than normal.
"We're your bloody best friends, Hermione. I think we deserve the right to know. Or maybe you don't consider us important enough to confide in." Ron crosses his arms and looks at me expectantly. I wince, feeling guilt at his statement.
"Ron, you know that's not true. 'Mione just doesn't always speak up. And we have had quite the busy life for the past decade or so. You know, defeating Voldemort and all that?" Harry snidely asks, trying to protect me from answering. He's always been protective of me, ever since he found out. Seeing as I appreciate it, I can't stop my eyes from glancing at him, silently thanking him. Unfortunately, Ron catches this exchange.
"What's going on?" He asks suspiciously. Harry tries to clear his face of any knowledge, but unfortunately, Ron seems to be tuning into others' emotions for possibly the first time in his life. Just my luck. "What do you know that I don't?" I squeeze my eyes shut before taking a deep breath to explain.
"It's a long story, Ron, and it happened right before Sixth Year, when you were slightly preoccupied with Lavender and its nothing to concern yourself wi-"
"For the love of Merlin, just TELL me, Hermione," He says, starting to get worked up. He's getting upset for the wrong reasons, and it starts to anger me a bit. This isn't his issue to be upset about, it's my problem. "Unless this 'Jake' bloke is so bloody special that you can't talk about him to BOTH of your bloody mates." This time, it's my turn to narrow my eyes. "So can you please just let me know what the hell-"
"He threw me through the air, Ron. For no reason other than the fact that he felt like it, and had no issue with treating me like I was an unimportant, inconsequential rag doll to use as his plaything. Which I found to be reason enough to kick him the fuck out of my life. Left six bruises in the shapes of his fingerprints on my arms. On my sweet sixteen, no less. So excuse me for holding tight to something that greatly affected me during a time which you were too busy snogging another girl to notice I was falling apart." My fingers ghost over the insides and outers of my wrists; as well as the crook of my elbow which were the places that Jake had left the bruises. Tears began welling up in my eyes as Harry put his arm around me, trying to comfort me as he glared at Ron, who was beginning to resemble a fish with his mouth slightly agape and eyes bugging out slightly at my confession. Immediately, memories began flooding back.