Shining
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was, it would be called "Ron Weasley and … " ;)
Author's note: no link with Stephen King whatsoever, folks. The title comes from Badly Drawn boy's song "The Shining", which I listened to while writing. Rated "R" for character's death, sorry for that, I like angst. But I like fluff, too, so don't worry. And I'm a definitive R/Hr shipper :D
Please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes… I'm learning English, you know. If you like it, if you don't, if you're bored, review please! It makes it all worthwhile.
He feels her hand on his back, gently pressing between his shoulder blades, just a reminder of her presence, of her will to listen to what is haunting him.
How can she be so calm? So compassionate? Isn't she feeling any pain of her own?
He almost resent her for how easily she seems to cope.
"I… "He gasps, out of breath, fighting against the tears that are gathering in his eyes.
"I can't… I can't talk right now…" It's all he can blurt out before his voice breaks. And he doesn't want her to see him like that. To see him weak, hurt, childish. She needs him strong. They all do. He'll find the time to cry later.
"I just need you. As you are"
He almost chokes.
"Be the strong one for the others if you want, but let me be with you"
Her voice is sad, pleading.
"Ron…"
He fights her for as long as he can, taking refuge in their silence, in the soft sound of the rain against the window.
And suddenly the dam breaks. He crashes on his knees. Unable to breathe, to think beyond the hurt and the guilt. And she is there, all of her, her arms around him, her mouth on his face, whispering his name and things he can't comprehend, and her warmth flowing through him.
"I wasn't there"
In a flash, he sees his best friend's face. All of his faces. Angry, happy, sad Harry, screaming, smirking, thinking, laughing… fighting.
"I wasn't with him"
She sighs, and holds him tighter.
"You've got nothing to blame yourself for. He didn't want you to be there"
"I should have been all the same"
He almost spit the words, hoping in a way that they can bite him in return.
"It was his choice"
"And it's okay for you!" He gets up violently, tearing himself from her embrace, instantly feeling cold. He can see the hurt in her eyes, and he knows that he is wrong, that she is feeling the same grief. But he can't let go now, not when the words are flowing at last. "How can it be okay? This is so fucked-up, Hermione ! He knew we wanted to be there, just like he would have wanted to be with us! We had made a pact, the three of us. To be together, no matter what happened. So why did he choose for us? Why did he do that?"
"Can't you understand he just didn't want us to be hurt? He did this for us, to keep us safe! You don't have any right to judge him like that"
She's finally angry, too. Her voice grows louder and her body stiffens. And memories flows back to his mind again. This could be the Common Room, another fight about Viktor, Quidditch or homework. Except that Harry is not here to come between them. Harry is lost and that's the problem. Another flash, a battlefield in Dumbledore's Pensieve, and Harry's body, his face pale and covered in blood.
"I'm sorry" And he truly is. For everything. For all the time lost in fourth year when he could have been with Harry. For all the words he had not say to him after Sirius death. For his helplessness in battles, and his absence in the final one. And for his inability to find peace and honor the memory of the best friend he ever had, his brother, loved and missed.
She is still on her knees on the floor, and he watches her swallow.
"I knew he was going there without us"
His eyes widen. "What?! Hermione… what the fuck are you talking about?"
"He came to me that night. To explain. To say goodbye. He wanted to go to you, too, but it would have been to hard…"
Waves of anger roll over him. "Why did you agree? Why did you let him go! "He's yelling, and she starts to cry, and her tears wash the anger away, like they always do. But it still doesn't make any sense, and he bit his lip to check whether he's dreaming or not. Numbness overcomes him, and when he speaks again, his voice is a mere whisper.
"Why didn't you fight him?"
She doesn't answer. He thinks that finally, she's going to tell him. That Harry knew how useless he was. That what he saw in his best friend's eyes was not trust, but pity. That the best part of his life was built on a lie.
But time goes by and she doesn't say a word. He turns to the window again, searching for a way out in the bleak and grey landscape, in the clouded sky. Perfect companions for his shattered soul. The whole world is mourning with him, and it's oddly comforting.
Then he feels her hand on his back again, slowly sliding across his waist to rest on his belly.
He takes her hand in his, squeeze it gently.
"I'm pregnant"
He spins so fast that she nearly loses her balance, and gathers her in his arms. But then he has to lie against the wall, because it's all he can do not to fall. There are so many questions he wants to ask, that he doesn't know how to begin. But she speaks first, her head buried in the crook of his neck, avoiding his eyes.
"I found out about two weeks ago, during the days you spent in St Mungo after the battle of Diagon Alley. I didn't want to tell anyone, for I knew I would be left behind. But Harry found out, because of the nausea, and because he was Harry". Her voice is low, her body slightly shaking, and he pulls her closer to him. "I did fight him, Ron. I fought him with all my being, but he told me that this was not only about sacrificing my life anymore, and that I wasn't free to choose, because I had you, the baby, and a future. And he didn't come to you because he didn't want you to have to make that choice, dying for him or staying for your child. You know how much he regretted not knowing his parents."
He knows, and he understands. And when he kisses the top of her head, he feels a strange sense of calm. A piece of his heart will always be missing. But maybe, when her belly will go round, when he'll feel the first kick, sunny days will feel great again.
A tiny hand, a squeeze. Smiles, kisses. "Welcome, Harry Weasley. We've been waiting for you". And he swears that, in the blinding light coming from the windows, he can see a dark-haired, green-eyed boy, smiling. Shining.
Hope you've liked it, thanks for staying with me till the end :D !