So this is a surprise! I was going through my doc files yesterday and found this unfinished piece of fic from, get this, 2012! I had no recollection of having any unfinished fics, let alone from so long ago. So, while I don't have any plans to continue this as a chaptered fic, I wanted to share it.
Apparently I had the idea of using the line "Always the tone of surprise" as a theme, and exploring the idea of Hermione becoming afraid of the dark? Anyway, it might feel unfinished, but it is. So, enjoy!
The Tone of Darkness
Looking up at the brightly stippled darkness, at the edge of a massive field of wheat, swaying along with the grain, the breeze brings with it a chill down my spine.
Where are they? What's happening?
As much as I try to fight it, with my arms tight around my chest, hands gripping my upper arms, clutching the denim of my jacket, helplessness seeps into the marrow of my bones. I shiver uncontrollably and dare not look over at Harry who is glancing at me, wanting to share a look of concern that we both have for our best friend and the remaining members of the Order. But I can't; Looking at Harry and seeing any inkling of doubt in his eyes will undo me. Instead I train my eyes steadily to the sky; the ominous space above and beyond that had just previously given host to a battle between us and the Death Eaters. I used to love looking up at the stars- picking out constellations, planets, galaxies… but now it's like a terrifying crime scene where one of the most important people in my entire life may have… I can't think. Harry sighs, and I can't look. I close my eyes briefly, giving into a superstition that states once you look away from something it will magically appear. Magic. I used to not believe in that once upon a time.
He has to be alright. He has to be. I'll give anything: All the Gryffindor points I've accumulated, every O I received for my OWLS, my right arm. Anything.
My heart jumps up into my throat making me cry out, "It's them!" when I spot the speck of a broom in the distance. Soon after Tonks runs past me as she and Lupin collide, grateful and relieved to be together again- safe.
My bones feel like they are filled with syrup as 'Harry' staggers towards us, his hair changing from pitch black and unruly to a lighter shade of orange, lengthening and turning up in wisps around his ears and those familiar golden lashes.
"You're okay." The voice is deeper than the real Harry's, catching in his throat as emerald green eyes, now turned cobalt blue, latch onto mine…
He's alive.
My legs practically shove me across the grass and my arms are suddenly wound around Ron's neck, squeezing tightly. To feel the warmth of his chest against mine, his breath in my hair and a deep, nervous chuckle in my ear is such a relief that I'm left speechless, and apparently immobile as I cling to him, mumbling something incoherently as my heart starts to return to its normal pace.
"M'all right," Ron mutters, patting me on the back. "M'fine."
I believe him, but I cannot let go as Tonks recounts Ron's heroic acts up in the sky, the same span of wicked darkness that helped to try and take us down. He fought, she says, stunned a Death Eater - in the head no less - while so much chaos ensued. He's amazing. Brilliant, she says.
"You did?" I ask, pulling away slightly and looking up at him with admiration and awe. I notice he doesn't remove his arms that are wrapped around my waist, so I stay and stare, like some googley-eyed school girl with a crush on a hero.
"Always the tone of surprise."
His previous expression, a sloppy grin that gave off pride and a bit of smugness, is now gone, giving way to a frown, and his arms fall from my body. I'm confused at the sudden change in atmosphere between us. I let my arms fall as well in an effort to regain a bit of dignity, and we step away from each other. What I thought was a moment between us, of pride and relief , is lost to a misunderstanding of words and intent- Once again.
Why should I think this time would be any different?
XXXX
We escaped. Thank heavens. We made it, the three of us, unhurt. Racing down the streets of muggle London, I don't allow myself to think beyond that thought, except: Find somewhere discreet. Safe. Keep going.
I repeat that mantra in my head as I lead Ron and Harry into a dark alley and to the other side of a large dumpster, away from curious and dangerous eyes.
We escaped. Keep going. Stay safe.
As I hand them their change of clothes from my beaded bag I calm myself by thinking back several hours, when the sun was still high in the sky, when the night hadn't ruined everything by allowing Death Eaters to swarm in and…
Breathe, Hermione.
But I'm here now, huddled beside a smelly dumpster, and I grab the boys' dress robes from them, shoving them into my bag. After explaining about the extendable charm I had put on my bag, words being spoken as if from text, Ron says something that makes me thankful for the shadow of the dumpster in the nighttime-drenched alley…
"You're amazing, you are." His tone is not of surprise, but of awe, much the same as mine was that night he came down from the blackness after saving Tonks and himself, like a ginger angel in Harry's glasses.
I'm blushing.
I remember Ron's blinking and gob smacked expression as I made my way towards him, wearing the same dress I am right now- my journey through the lawn on my god-forsaken heels and hair as curl-free as possible.
"You look great!" he had said with such enthusiasm and openness that it allowed me to counteract with a bit of smugness of my own.
"Always the tone of surprise," I had replied smoothly, using the words that had caused a slight riff in our imaginary romantic relationship I had built in my head, hoping to reduce it to something less than a sting in my heart. I smiled to let him know my intent. And, not for the first time, but a rare moment indeed, he seemed to understand, and grinned, nodding at my cleverness.
Remembering that moment and the undeniable feeling that finally we were going somewhere with all of our mixed messages and heart fluttering glances, seems futile, but I hang on for just a second longer. And even though tonight didn't end as I had hoped we are here now, together.
"Thank you," is all I can muster in reply to his compliment. Then, as quickly as the moment began it's over as I turn off the memory and return to the business at hand, focusing on what is important to stay alive.
Keep going. Stay safe… Focus.
XXXXX
I can feel it, not just the cold, but the darkness. It's heavy, like an extra blanket on my chest and legs, keeping me from doing anything but stare at the ceiling. I listen to Ron's light snores from beside and below me, on the floor. He'd insisted I have the sofa cushions and, while very chivalrous of him, I feel guilty as the supposed added comfort is doing nothing to help me fall asleep.
I pull my wand from underneath my pillow and whisper to light it, dim enough for me to see across the drawing room of Grimmald's Place without waking Ron and Harry.
"What're you doin'?" Ron mutters groggily from underneath his forearm that is thrown across his face.
Well, so much for not waking anyone. However, I'm relieved not to be alone in my anti-slumber.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I can't sleep… It was too dark in here." I despise admitting to this new fear of mine, and I'm about to rectify it with a slew of valid excuses, but hearing Ron turn on his side to face me I sigh, ready for him to tease me about being a baby who needs a night light.
He's propped up on one elbow, considering me with a solemn expression. "S'alright. You're not alone, Hermione," he whispers, leaning in close until I can see him more clearly. His lids are droopy from being half awake, and while his pupils cannot contract in this dim lighting, I find stillness, a soothing effect, in the crystallized rim of blue surrounding. He's not in the mood for joking, and I'm appreciative, but I know why and I don't blame him. I'm worried about his family as well, along with just about everything else.
I adjust to lie on my stomach, prop my lit wand against the arm of the sofa, and rest my cheek in my fists to look sideways at him. "I'm glad. It would kill me if we were separated somehow."
"That will never happen," he says, eyes narrowed, and I can feel his conviction, so much that I almost believe him.
I shake my head. "You don't know that for sure. You can't say that and be truthful. It's an impossibility to assume that-"
Harry mumbles something from the other side of Ron. I shut my mouth and we both watch as he turns away from us, still asleep.
"This is it, then, isn't it?" Ron whispers, turning to face me, his head propped up on one hand, the other playing with a string on his sleeping bag. I glance down at him, and he's staring at me with a sad smile. "We're on our own now."
I slip a hand out from under my face and let it drop to the floor, my knuckles grazing the edge of his sleeping bag. With a reassuring smile I reach out to him. I let out the breath I'm holding as he grasps it firmly, curling his fingers between mine, squeezing tight.
"We'll be okay," I whisper. My voice shakes, and he lays down, moving closer, and I can feel his breath on my skin, sending sparks up my arm and into my chest.
"Do you want me to turn off the light?" I ask, but he shakes his head.
"Leave it. I'll stay up 'til you fall asleep."
"You will?"
"There's that tone of surprise again," he replies with a roll of his eyes.
For a second I fear he's misunderstood me again, but then he's chuckling quietly at me, and he squeezes my hand again.
"Just go to sleep."
I sigh and settle into the cushions, my eyes already feeling heavy. "Thank you. Good night, Ron."
"Night, Hermione."
The last thing I see in the very dim light of my wand is Ron watching me from below; and the last thing I feel is his thumb making circles on the inside of my palm, lulling me into a deep slumber.
XXXX
Thanks for reading!
Like I said, this is complete. More so because I already have a fic going on right now (When in Doubt) with missing moments that I'd like to continue, so it doesn't make sense to keep this one going. But I hope you liked it!