In-Between the Lines

Books are always stable, firm, in black and white. When you open a book, it's always the same. There's the same wording, same lettering, even the same pizza stain from when you just couldn't let the next chapter wait until after dinner.

But is that what really happens? Are books really set in stone—or paper? For all we know, books have taken on a whole new life outside the pages. All we can do is read in-between the lines…

Hermione lie on the floor of the tent that smelled like cats, shaking, and trying to force the tears to go away. This would not help her situation…

Ron glared at Hermione. "And they call you clever," he said scathingly. "Can't even come up with food for one night. One bloody night, Hermione!" Ron kicked in her general direction, and Hermione whimpered and moved out of the way. "We're all starving, because you just can't wave your wand enough to get us some food! A single pea would be welcome at this moment!"

"But the Gamp's Law," whispered Hermione. "It won't let me—"

"Stop it with the stupid law!" Ron grabbed Hermione's shoulders roughly and shook her.

"Ron, stop," said Harry in a dispassionate voice, tracing shapes on his quilt with his wand. "You know she'll just snivel all night and be exhausted tomorrow."

Ron tossed Hermione away from him in disgust. "I'm going to bed," he announced. "If there isn't food, well, you'll regret it."

Hermione whimpered. The cold look in Ron's eye said he was telling the truth.

What had happened? At the beginning of this quest, the Golden Trio had been as they always had—Harry, just as compassionate, chivalrous, and slightly mysterious and brooding as he had been forever. Ron was the same clueless but somehow endearing individual that had made Hermione attracted to him. And Hermione was the same bookish, clever witch she had always been. But now…now Ron was a monster. And all Harry was doing was enabling him. Hermione's shaky confidence had not only collapsed, but disappeared. She only stayed because of loyalty for the cause. Voldemort needed to be stopped.

Hermione let out a sigh. It hadn't started out like this. Gradually, Ron's undermining and irate nature got the better of him. Despite what everyone everywhere thought, it was Ron who was running the show.

But Hermione was not putting up with that crap anymore.

Her bag was packed. Her wand at the ready, and her heart, well…if she even had a heart anymore, it was broken.

She loved Harry and Ron. Or, at least, had, until they turned out to be creepy jerks. Despite the coldness and rudeness and abuse, they were her only friends. She had never quite been accepted at Hogwarts before Harry and Ron befriended her. They had saved her from Malfoy and his cronies times too numerous to really count.

Ahh, Malfoy. Hermione allowed herself to be sucked into a daydream of Malfoy, with his perfect hair, and perfect face, and perfect body…and perfectly evil disposition. His plot to kill Dumbledore was proof of that, not to mention six years of cruelty.

Hermione snapped back to the future. She was planning an irksome escape, and she needed to be focusing on escape routes, not Malfoy and his perfectness…hair…eyes…body….

"Accio wand," whispered Hermione. Ron's nighttime routine was to hide her wand so she wouldn't use it. So she took the liberty of nabbing his for this purpose.

Harry stirred in his bed for a heart-stopping moment, and then sat up. Hermione froze in the act of standing up. Harry nodded slowly, and Hermione knew then that he understood. He gave her a sad smile, then handed her a small folded up note. "Later," he whispered. Hermione nodded. Her eyes overflowing with tears, she gave Harry a silent hug, and then pulled away. She took one last look at him, and turned on spot. With a crack, she was gone.

()()()()()()()()()()

Later, in a dusty coffee shop, Hermione opened the note.

Dear Hermione,

I know that I Ron and I have been terrible to you. It's a horrible, Draco-Malfoy type thing we've done. And I want you to know how dreadful and appalling this makes me feel. To think that I've abused and mistreated my closest friend. I just want to dig a hole and bury myself in it forever. And I probably would, except I need to be on the surface to face Voldemort.

Honestly, Hermione, I don't know what's come over Ron. I know he's had some controlling and anger issues, but I never dreamed of what happened. I can't believe I let the abuse go on for that long. I am through with Ron.

I just wanted to let you know that I love you. Not that I've shown you these past weeks, but now you know it. I think you're the closest thing to my heart, and I've spent countless nights up with the guilt and yet I've done nothing. Forgive me, Hermione.

Love,

Harry

Hermione felt tears course down her face. The skinny waitress gawked at her.

"Honey, do you need a napkin?" she asked with concern. Hermione shook her head and waved her off.

Hermione wasn't crying because of Harry's heartfelt words. She was crying because she was free.

Free.