The Passing
By: mArs_bAr
-------------------------
2 Things: 1.)Characters owned by J.K. Rowling. I know and own completely nothing. 2.)This is pure emotion, be warned.
To My Little Green Muggle Busmates: You're finally looking at the fic I told you about. Enjoy. =Þ
To Everyone: I hope you see the beauty of this, since I had to go through quite a lot to put this here. If you don't the world will make sense again, and won't that be too bad?
For questions , requests for the mp3 of the song in here, or whatever else, simply mail me: KathleenK222@yahoo.com
And To someone I will call orEo_chEEsEcakE: Call a meeting on the roof if you read this.
mArs_bAr
-------------------------
"I love you." She didn't know what it meant. He probably didn't, either, she figured, because why would he suddenly blurt out such a thing out of the blue? And if he didn't know what it meant, how could it be worth anything at all, right? So she ignored it. Yes, she ignored it.
She had never seen that coming. And who would have? These last 6 years, Ron and her had been the way friends usually were: a bit of talk, a bit of fun, a bit of teasing, a bit of, well, whatever that was would have never equipped her for that moment. It was pure surprise, and there was nothing more. That was how it was for her.
But it wasn't that simple and unplanned. It wasn't some little thing that Hermione thought it to be. This was the product of long, tiring days Ron spent torturing himself over what he was going to do. What was he going to say? How was he going to do it? It hadn't been easy. Sometimes, while remembering, she would carefully push out the questions of the details of what Ron had been through, and other such things, since any more self-suffering was unnecessary. A picture of Ron clutching fistfuls of his messy red hair in his hands in confusion flashed into Hermione's head. She could almost cry. He was in so much pain...
But these weren't the thoughts her mind held before - when he had confessed, she had done nothing. Nothing. True enough, he was all she could think about. She once tried to get a piece of paper and tape it to her desk, then tally every time she would think of him, but she gave up, in sheer anger at herself, because it dawned on her that she wasn't able to count EVERY SINGLE time she thought of him. "God, I'm so stupid!" she remembered cursing her carelessness. Everyone stared. Everyone murmured. She shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe other people would actually call her the smartest girl in Hogwarts when she was in fact so stupid. So very stupid, and she was just so angry at herself that no one could tell her otherwise.
She even wrote about him. No one would know where she had gone off to, disappearing at breaks and turning up in the next class. In a great big castle like Hogwarts, disappearing's quite easy. She smiled at this thought, at the thought of her own mischief. She would write anything at all that she could think of. And, well, surprise, surprise, he was all she could think of, so it made sense that he was on every page, in every SENTENCE she wrote.
He was in every breath and every heart beat, too. She would sit down alone in the silence of one of the hidden rooms she had found, the one that used to be the Teacher's Lounge, but was now an attic for furniture that needed magical repairs. She'd clasp the purple velvet cushion in her arms, hug tightly, and listen to her heart beat. "I must be sick. This isn't my normal behavior; this isn't my normal condition... In fact NO ONE acts like this..." she said aloud, one time.
And yet she did nothing. She did nothing, until the madness passed over. It didn't pass completely. She still thought of him, but she could at least move normally now. She could at least accomplish even a bit of school work. She was getting well... somehow. Very little decrease in the insanity, but a decrease nontheless.
"I can't take it anymore!!!" she yelled amidst tears and a very thick, nasal voice. She began sobbing all over again. "I can't... I can't... Please stop it..." And someone suddenly got up in the corridor outside her hideaway room, where he had been sitting since she followed her, and opened the door gently but urgently. "All right, Hermione. Your days of depression are supposed to be done by now. Hasn't it been months? Stop crying." It was Ron. He looked something like a cross between concerned but not pitying, and strict. He looked so serious and his face was unreadable, showing no sign of what was going on in his head, so she decided to talk. "It's..." "It's?" She recalled his voice, which now, to her, seemed to carry a hint of hopefulness. She smiled a rueful little smile. She hadn't noticed that detail until today... "It's... Harry..."
/I know what you're doing, I see it all too clear
I only taste the saline when I kiss away your tears /
What the hell... Ron wondered, looking up to see that the oddly striking lyrics were coming from the music of Dean Thomas' magically modified Muggle boom box.
/You really had me going, wishing on a star
But the black holes that surround you are heavier by far
I believed in your confusion, you were so completely torn
Well it must have been that yesterday was the day that I was born /
He tried to turn away. Maybe block out the sound. The sound of what was probably the awful truth... He stood up and began fumbling for the switch to shut it.
/There's not much to examine, there's nothing left to hide
You really can't be serious if you have to ask me why.../
But he kept it on. Lost in thought and rapt attention, he resigned to stumbling back onto his bed.
/I say goodbye.../
And he collapsed. Suddenly, the bed, or the ground, it made no difference where he was exactly, he couldn't be sure which it was, seemed like some heavenly lesson that he was now left to learn. "Good...bye..." He cast his eyes upward and saw nothingness... It was only black... His vision was blurred by his heavy tears.
/'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
And I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay.../
It had been a full month that he was playing unpaid shrink to Hermione. Well, a confidant, at least. She trusted in him, now. She even grew to care about him now. She cared. She cared and trusted him, and as a friend, too. He was actually very happy. Very satisfied. But he couldn't be jumping up and down, although he knew he had good reason to. It was more like he SHOULDN'T, because Hermione had really serious problems, and he, like any sensitive person ought to know, that the worst thing one can do while someone is lonely, is to be festive. He would help her out of this shithole, he swore he would. He would be the one to take away all her problems, and then she'd see... She'd see that he really loved her like he said he did. It would refresh her memory. And she would smile and say "I love you, Ron..." It was all he could do from pounding Harry up and getting him out of the picture for good. But Hermione had talked about maturity... and she was so strong, my God, she was strong. She was hurting, but she pulled herself back. He wouldn't spoil what she had been so careful to avoid. No, not him. Not Ron Weasley. But why did he have to be so blind, that git Harry Potter. Doesn't he see how much Hermione cares? Ron could see quite well, all right, and that was even before she told him how bad she was feeling. HOW COULD THAT PIECE OF FUCK NOT SEE? How... Was it just that he didn't care about her at all, or maybe his selfishness overpowered the little care he had for others like Hermione, and so he was COMPLETELY oblivious to how she had practically killed herself in worry because of all that was happening to him?
That was what he believed in months ago. He could barely remember those days when the days of his own selfishness blotted the past out of memory. His selfishness... Yes, for the only thoughts his head held now were those concerning himself, and how he was victimized by the very woman he loved... She... She... The truth is he was stupid. He was stupid to believe she could actually... "Do you know what happens to hopeless romantics, Weasley?" he asked himself aloud. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do." And the truth was just to bitter to face with courage, to spiteful to glare in the eye. He hung his head, his jaw clenched, restraining... holding it down... "They get SCREWED..." He knew why. It was because people like himself didn't deserve happy endings. They were just too far gone to be helped at all. They were drowning, lost in their fantasies... They were worthless, because instead of being useful to the world and the people around them, they tend to live on dreams, and desperately cling to those dreams... He was a crazy git. He was a freakin' moron. "...They just... hang on too hard and let the dream whisk them away..." "And did you know, Weasley... THAT YOU'RE ONE OF 'EM? HUH?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT AN IDIOT YOU ARE, DO YOU?! DO YOU?!" He was panting... Barely breathing...
... Hermione... She had made it clear... Even from the very beginning... That she loved Harry... "Not you... Not you, Weasley... She loves HARRY..." She didn't give a damn about him, really, and he had just imagined it all. He had made convenient little stories in his mind that actually POINTED to him, but well... That was all fiction. JUST a dream... just a DREAM... just a... "You're losin it, aren't you..." He shook his head, and even managed to smile in surrender. That's right... That's what it all comes down to...
"Dean! I've got your Herbology homework! Dean!" Hermione yelled at the door of the seemingly empty boys' dorm. She had to hurry... She had heard yesterday that Ron was having a chess match with a 7th year at the lakeside. He probably didn't want to tell her unless he won... She smiled. Ron was like that. He thought so little of himself. But he was far from that... He meant a lot to her, afterall. "Yes, he matters..." And she mattered to him. She couldn't be happier.
She decided to go in and leave the notebook inside, since she had to get going. Then...
/I know what you're doing, I see it all too clear/
The first notes had her paralyzed. The music was coming from Dean's boom box.
/I only taste the saline when I kiss away your tears/
Her eyes widened. What... What is this...?
/You really had me going, wishing on a star
But the black holes that surround you are heavier by far/
Who is this... And...
/I believed in your confusion, you were so completley torn
Well it must have been that yesterday was the day that I was born
There's not much to examine, there's nothing left to hide
You really can't be serious if you have to ask me why/
...Why...Why is he saying that...He can't say those things...
/I say goodbye.../
And suddenly something cried out in Hermione. Like something was... slipping... And she couldn't stop it... Couldn't hold it anymore... "NO!!!"
/'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
And I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay/
She fell to her knees. It's not true... You're... You're wrong... Her tears were so painful... So very heavy it was like the ground was demanding them to fall... She pounded at the floor. "No... please..."
/Everyone keeps asking, what's it all about?
I used to be so certain and I can't figure out
What is this attraction? I only feel the pain
There's nothing left to reason and only you to blame
Will it ever change?/
It was all a lie... Why... Why does he believe it... Don't listen...PLEASE DON'T LISTEN!
/'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
And I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care.../
I DO CARE! I DO!
/And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay.../
She kept sobbing for the love she had lost... It was lost... He had let go... Couldn't stand the pain... He'd been suffering for so long... Waiting... And waiting... He was gone and it was all because of her!!!!!! She was screaming in agony and anger... He... was gone... GONE...It was torture. The word wouldn't go away.
In this single moment everything that she had gone through, all the pain, seemed to rebound on her and even double the anguish. The dark memories came back in a deadly flood... It was a week after he had confessed. She pushed out of her mind all the thoughtful looks he gave her, all the times she caught him gazing out the window. But as much as she tried to ignore it, he had entered her, and was slowly taking effect on everything she did. "Does he really love me?" she asked herself. It was all she could think about. Did he really love me for me, and did he love the whole of me? Her answer to this would change everyday - that was how unsure she was. She longed to know. Then one day, she heard him tell Dean that... that he no longer loved her. And upon asking Dean, she confirmed that he HAD said so. Okay, so it was over. So she was just a passing meteor shower to him. But then... he never told her that. He never did. Months had passed, and he said nothing to her. She kept persuading herself that he didn't love her, she had proof, and yet... She couldn't be sure. She wasn't. Her question was replaced with "Does he still love me?" It had her crying every night... It gripped her whole being until she was obssessed with finding the answer. All she could think of was how much he was hurting her by not telling her anything... His silence was killing her... Slowly. And she cried. Oh, God knows she cried. She would cry whenever no one was around, and in her little corner, during silent moments, and before finally drifting into exhausted, troubled sleep when she had already cried herself out. She really wanted to know the truth, and it had to come from him. She tried to write a letter asking him about it, but ended up burning it, still attempting to convince herself that he didn't love her and asking was unnecessary. She would imagine how she would talk to him, and what he would say. She rehearsed for a part she never played. Never... She just suffered in silence. And even now, when everything seems to be normal again, she suffers still.
"And for what...?" she couldn't help asking in hopelessness. She felt nothing but coldness. "He's gone now..."
/But I'm thinking it over anyway...../
Her head snapped up. "Had he just said..." Hope leapt inside her like a bouncing flame. "...He still..."
He scoffed at himself. "Honestly, Weasley, I don't know why that 7th year even bothered to challenge you. The poor chap doesn't really know, does he?" He began heading towards the Whomping Willow. "He doesn't know..." he said in a singsong voice "...that nothing really matters..."
"Have you seen Ron?" Hermione asked Dean hurriedly, who was with Neville under a large tree by the lake.
"He didn't show up for the chess match, Hermione." Dean said. "He never said he would, in the first place. He doesn't like these things. Well, ever since he actually grew up."
"But do you know where he is?" she half-yelled.
"Hermione, if there's anyone who should know where he is, it's you!"
She dashed off, searching the grounds. Then something popped into her head:
"Have you ever thought about wanting to die, Hermione?"
"Yes, of course."
"So how will you do it?"
"It's too tedious to think about how to die. Too many details and too many things to consider and plan out. It's going to happen anyway, sometime, so why should I get worked up thinking?"
"God, you sure are lazy! What a scandal this would cause if people knew the truth about you. Well, if you ask me, I'll probably go up to the Whomping Willow and let it do the job for me."
She ran like hell.
There he was... The thrashing branches were inches away from him... "Ron!!!" But he was still too far off and she wouldn't reach him in time... "NOOO!!!" Just as she was about to collapse, she saw him stop. He stopped. HE STOPPED!
She ran up to him. Cleared her throat. "Uh, Ron?"
He whirled around, completely astonished to see her. "Hermione?"
"Before you..." she trailed off and hung her head. Then she faced him, her eyes locked on his. "I want to ask you something."
He could see how serious she was. "What is it?"
"Do you still love me?" Her heart was beating so fast it could burst.
And finally she got her answer - "Yes."
Her face lit up at once. "You do?"
"Why the need of the reassurance of my love?"
She fell into his arms, crying with joy. "Oh Ron..."
"How about you? Do you?" He asked.
She looked up at him and nodded, sniffing. "Yes."
He hugged her tightly. She hugged back.
"I'll never hurt him again," Hermione swore. Because she knew, she KNOWS, that the pain, though it is greater than can be contained, isn't forever. It passes. Pain passes.
-------------------------
By: mArs_bAr
-------------------------
2 Things: 1.)Characters owned by J.K. Rowling. I know and own completely nothing. 2.)This is pure emotion, be warned.
To My Little Green Muggle Busmates: You're finally looking at the fic I told you about. Enjoy. =Þ
To Everyone: I hope you see the beauty of this, since I had to go through quite a lot to put this here. If you don't the world will make sense again, and won't that be too bad?
For questions , requests for the mp3 of the song in here, or whatever else, simply mail me: KathleenK222@yahoo.com
And To someone I will call orEo_chEEsEcakE: Call a meeting on the roof if you read this.
mArs_bAr
-------------------------
"I love you." She didn't know what it meant. He probably didn't, either, she figured, because why would he suddenly blurt out such a thing out of the blue? And if he didn't know what it meant, how could it be worth anything at all, right? So she ignored it. Yes, she ignored it.
She had never seen that coming. And who would have? These last 6 years, Ron and her had been the way friends usually were: a bit of talk, a bit of fun, a bit of teasing, a bit of, well, whatever that was would have never equipped her for that moment. It was pure surprise, and there was nothing more. That was how it was for her.
But it wasn't that simple and unplanned. It wasn't some little thing that Hermione thought it to be. This was the product of long, tiring days Ron spent torturing himself over what he was going to do. What was he going to say? How was he going to do it? It hadn't been easy. Sometimes, while remembering, she would carefully push out the questions of the details of what Ron had been through, and other such things, since any more self-suffering was unnecessary. A picture of Ron clutching fistfuls of his messy red hair in his hands in confusion flashed into Hermione's head. She could almost cry. He was in so much pain...
But these weren't the thoughts her mind held before - when he had confessed, she had done nothing. Nothing. True enough, he was all she could think about. She once tried to get a piece of paper and tape it to her desk, then tally every time she would think of him, but she gave up, in sheer anger at herself, because it dawned on her that she wasn't able to count EVERY SINGLE time she thought of him. "God, I'm so stupid!" she remembered cursing her carelessness. Everyone stared. Everyone murmured. She shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe other people would actually call her the smartest girl in Hogwarts when she was in fact so stupid. So very stupid, and she was just so angry at herself that no one could tell her otherwise.
She even wrote about him. No one would know where she had gone off to, disappearing at breaks and turning up in the next class. In a great big castle like Hogwarts, disappearing's quite easy. She smiled at this thought, at the thought of her own mischief. She would write anything at all that she could think of. And, well, surprise, surprise, he was all she could think of, so it made sense that he was on every page, in every SENTENCE she wrote.
He was in every breath and every heart beat, too. She would sit down alone in the silence of one of the hidden rooms she had found, the one that used to be the Teacher's Lounge, but was now an attic for furniture that needed magical repairs. She'd clasp the purple velvet cushion in her arms, hug tightly, and listen to her heart beat. "I must be sick. This isn't my normal behavior; this isn't my normal condition... In fact NO ONE acts like this..." she said aloud, one time.
And yet she did nothing. She did nothing, until the madness passed over. It didn't pass completely. She still thought of him, but she could at least move normally now. She could at least accomplish even a bit of school work. She was getting well... somehow. Very little decrease in the insanity, but a decrease nontheless.
"I can't take it anymore!!!" she yelled amidst tears and a very thick, nasal voice. She began sobbing all over again. "I can't... I can't... Please stop it..." And someone suddenly got up in the corridor outside her hideaway room, where he had been sitting since she followed her, and opened the door gently but urgently. "All right, Hermione. Your days of depression are supposed to be done by now. Hasn't it been months? Stop crying." It was Ron. He looked something like a cross between concerned but not pitying, and strict. He looked so serious and his face was unreadable, showing no sign of what was going on in his head, so she decided to talk. "It's..." "It's?" She recalled his voice, which now, to her, seemed to carry a hint of hopefulness. She smiled a rueful little smile. She hadn't noticed that detail until today... "It's... Harry..."
/I know what you're doing, I see it all too clear
I only taste the saline when I kiss away your tears /
What the hell... Ron wondered, looking up to see that the oddly striking lyrics were coming from the music of Dean Thomas' magically modified Muggle boom box.
/You really had me going, wishing on a star
But the black holes that surround you are heavier by far
I believed in your confusion, you were so completely torn
Well it must have been that yesterday was the day that I was born /
He tried to turn away. Maybe block out the sound. The sound of what was probably the awful truth... He stood up and began fumbling for the switch to shut it.
/There's not much to examine, there's nothing left to hide
You really can't be serious if you have to ask me why.../
But he kept it on. Lost in thought and rapt attention, he resigned to stumbling back onto his bed.
/I say goodbye.../
And he collapsed. Suddenly, the bed, or the ground, it made no difference where he was exactly, he couldn't be sure which it was, seemed like some heavenly lesson that he was now left to learn. "Good...bye..." He cast his eyes upward and saw nothingness... It was only black... His vision was blurred by his heavy tears.
/'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
And I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay.../
It had been a full month that he was playing unpaid shrink to Hermione. Well, a confidant, at least. She trusted in him, now. She even grew to care about him now. She cared. She cared and trusted him, and as a friend, too. He was actually very happy. Very satisfied. But he couldn't be jumping up and down, although he knew he had good reason to. It was more like he SHOULDN'T, because Hermione had really serious problems, and he, like any sensitive person ought to know, that the worst thing one can do while someone is lonely, is to be festive. He would help her out of this shithole, he swore he would. He would be the one to take away all her problems, and then she'd see... She'd see that he really loved her like he said he did. It would refresh her memory. And she would smile and say "I love you, Ron..." It was all he could do from pounding Harry up and getting him out of the picture for good. But Hermione had talked about maturity... and she was so strong, my God, she was strong. She was hurting, but she pulled herself back. He wouldn't spoil what she had been so careful to avoid. No, not him. Not Ron Weasley. But why did he have to be so blind, that git Harry Potter. Doesn't he see how much Hermione cares? Ron could see quite well, all right, and that was even before she told him how bad she was feeling. HOW COULD THAT PIECE OF FUCK NOT SEE? How... Was it just that he didn't care about her at all, or maybe his selfishness overpowered the little care he had for others like Hermione, and so he was COMPLETELY oblivious to how she had practically killed herself in worry because of all that was happening to him?
That was what he believed in months ago. He could barely remember those days when the days of his own selfishness blotted the past out of memory. His selfishness... Yes, for the only thoughts his head held now were those concerning himself, and how he was victimized by the very woman he loved... She... She... The truth is he was stupid. He was stupid to believe she could actually... "Do you know what happens to hopeless romantics, Weasley?" he asked himself aloud. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do." And the truth was just to bitter to face with courage, to spiteful to glare in the eye. He hung his head, his jaw clenched, restraining... holding it down... "They get SCREWED..." He knew why. It was because people like himself didn't deserve happy endings. They were just too far gone to be helped at all. They were drowning, lost in their fantasies... They were worthless, because instead of being useful to the world and the people around them, they tend to live on dreams, and desperately cling to those dreams... He was a crazy git. He was a freakin' moron. "...They just... hang on too hard and let the dream whisk them away..." "And did you know, Weasley... THAT YOU'RE ONE OF 'EM? HUH?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT AN IDIOT YOU ARE, DO YOU?! DO YOU?!" He was panting... Barely breathing...
... Hermione... She had made it clear... Even from the very beginning... That she loved Harry... "Not you... Not you, Weasley... She loves HARRY..." She didn't give a damn about him, really, and he had just imagined it all. He had made convenient little stories in his mind that actually POINTED to him, but well... That was all fiction. JUST a dream... just a DREAM... just a... "You're losin it, aren't you..." He shook his head, and even managed to smile in surrender. That's right... That's what it all comes down to...
"Dean! I've got your Herbology homework! Dean!" Hermione yelled at the door of the seemingly empty boys' dorm. She had to hurry... She had heard yesterday that Ron was having a chess match with a 7th year at the lakeside. He probably didn't want to tell her unless he won... She smiled. Ron was like that. He thought so little of himself. But he was far from that... He meant a lot to her, afterall. "Yes, he matters..." And she mattered to him. She couldn't be happier.
She decided to go in and leave the notebook inside, since she had to get going. Then...
/I know what you're doing, I see it all too clear/
The first notes had her paralyzed. The music was coming from Dean's boom box.
/I only taste the saline when I kiss away your tears/
Her eyes widened. What... What is this...?
/You really had me going, wishing on a star
But the black holes that surround you are heavier by far/
Who is this... And...
/I believed in your confusion, you were so completley torn
Well it must have been that yesterday was the day that I was born
There's not much to examine, there's nothing left to hide
You really can't be serious if you have to ask me why/
...Why...Why is he saying that...He can't say those things...
/I say goodbye.../
And suddenly something cried out in Hermione. Like something was... slipping... And she couldn't stop it... Couldn't hold it anymore... "NO!!!"
/'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
And I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay/
She fell to her knees. It's not true... You're... You're wrong... Her tears were so painful... So very heavy it was like the ground was demanding them to fall... She pounded at the floor. "No... please..."
/Everyone keeps asking, what's it all about?
I used to be so certain and I can't figure out
What is this attraction? I only feel the pain
There's nothing left to reason and only you to blame
Will it ever change?/
It was all a lie... Why... Why does he believe it... Don't listen...PLEASE DON'T LISTEN!
/'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
And I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care.../
I DO CARE! I DO!
/And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay.../
She kept sobbing for the love she had lost... It was lost... He had let go... Couldn't stand the pain... He'd been suffering for so long... Waiting... And waiting... He was gone and it was all because of her!!!!!! She was screaming in agony and anger... He... was gone... GONE...It was torture. The word wouldn't go away.
In this single moment everything that she had gone through, all the pain, seemed to rebound on her and even double the anguish. The dark memories came back in a deadly flood... It was a week after he had confessed. She pushed out of her mind all the thoughtful looks he gave her, all the times she caught him gazing out the window. But as much as she tried to ignore it, he had entered her, and was slowly taking effect on everything she did. "Does he really love me?" she asked herself. It was all she could think about. Did he really love me for me, and did he love the whole of me? Her answer to this would change everyday - that was how unsure she was. She longed to know. Then one day, she heard him tell Dean that... that he no longer loved her. And upon asking Dean, she confirmed that he HAD said so. Okay, so it was over. So she was just a passing meteor shower to him. But then... he never told her that. He never did. Months had passed, and he said nothing to her. She kept persuading herself that he didn't love her, she had proof, and yet... She couldn't be sure. She wasn't. Her question was replaced with "Does he still love me?" It had her crying every night... It gripped her whole being until she was obssessed with finding the answer. All she could think of was how much he was hurting her by not telling her anything... His silence was killing her... Slowly. And she cried. Oh, God knows she cried. She would cry whenever no one was around, and in her little corner, during silent moments, and before finally drifting into exhausted, troubled sleep when she had already cried herself out. She really wanted to know the truth, and it had to come from him. She tried to write a letter asking him about it, but ended up burning it, still attempting to convince herself that he didn't love her and asking was unnecessary. She would imagine how she would talk to him, and what he would say. She rehearsed for a part she never played. Never... She just suffered in silence. And even now, when everything seems to be normal again, she suffers still.
"And for what...?" she couldn't help asking in hopelessness. She felt nothing but coldness. "He's gone now..."
/But I'm thinking it over anyway...../
Her head snapped up. "Had he just said..." Hope leapt inside her like a bouncing flame. "...He still..."
He scoffed at himself. "Honestly, Weasley, I don't know why that 7th year even bothered to challenge you. The poor chap doesn't really know, does he?" He began heading towards the Whomping Willow. "He doesn't know..." he said in a singsong voice "...that nothing really matters..."
"Have you seen Ron?" Hermione asked Dean hurriedly, who was with Neville under a large tree by the lake.
"He didn't show up for the chess match, Hermione." Dean said. "He never said he would, in the first place. He doesn't like these things. Well, ever since he actually grew up."
"But do you know where he is?" she half-yelled.
"Hermione, if there's anyone who should know where he is, it's you!"
She dashed off, searching the grounds. Then something popped into her head:
"Have you ever thought about wanting to die, Hermione?"
"Yes, of course."
"So how will you do it?"
"It's too tedious to think about how to die. Too many details and too many things to consider and plan out. It's going to happen anyway, sometime, so why should I get worked up thinking?"
"God, you sure are lazy! What a scandal this would cause if people knew the truth about you. Well, if you ask me, I'll probably go up to the Whomping Willow and let it do the job for me."
She ran like hell.
There he was... The thrashing branches were inches away from him... "Ron!!!" But he was still too far off and she wouldn't reach him in time... "NOOO!!!" Just as she was about to collapse, she saw him stop. He stopped. HE STOPPED!
She ran up to him. Cleared her throat. "Uh, Ron?"
He whirled around, completely astonished to see her. "Hermione?"
"Before you..." she trailed off and hung her head. Then she faced him, her eyes locked on his. "I want to ask you something."
He could see how serious she was. "What is it?"
"Do you still love me?" Her heart was beating so fast it could burst.
And finally she got her answer - "Yes."
Her face lit up at once. "You do?"
"Why the need of the reassurance of my love?"
She fell into his arms, crying with joy. "Oh Ron..."
"How about you? Do you?" He asked.
She looked up at him and nodded, sniffing. "Yes."
He hugged her tightly. She hugged back.
"I'll never hurt him again," Hermione swore. Because she knew, she KNOWS, that the pain, though it is greater than can be contained, isn't forever. It passes. Pain passes.
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