Love Hurts

Evil was abundant these days it seemed like it was all-around like the thick lingering fog that shrouded the large and now very cold castle. Harry's scar burned as the dark mark was etched onto another death eater's skin but the next dark mark he did not feel, this was the mark of the apprentice to the dark lord. Tonight he would be branded into his fate like a cow branded to its slaughter and The Golden Trio nor the world outside their obsessive cult would be any the wiser. Knowing there was someone they should fear more than fear itself, instead the attack would creep until it would suddenly become a plague that no law could contain. Numbers and power was growing in dark places.

There was only one flaw in the plan. Yes there was a flaw. Evil did not know all and neither did good. None the wiser they never knew that the fate of the world lay on the shoulder of two unfortunate people. Neither did they know it because they were from two sides so different and still in a strange way so similar. Their chemistry was electric but nobody could see what lay right in front of their faces. Two pieces of a puzzle that would take her brains and his cunning to solve.

Harry sat up quickly from his sleep hitting his already burning scar on the bunk bed above him belonging to the one and only Ron who was snoring loudly ignorant of the discomfort of his room mate below him. Harry mumbled incoherent curses below his breath his conscience telling him to keep his temper that was bubbling below the surface. This was not going to be a good day for him, he had decided at the obvious unfortunate incident that had occurred at his awakening. He threw his legs over the side hitting his head once more at the side. He shut his eyes and counted to ten debating in his mind if he should or should not get up. He was still tired after another late night, though he should get out of bed, breakfast did smell welcoming and he did as always have a full day.

Hermione busied herself around the kitchen waving her wand to help with cooking, dishes and setting the table. It was now seventh year and she was now 17, allowed to practice magic outside school grounds along with apparating and other privileges that came with being an adult. Her parents being successful dentists the both of them they were happy to help when their child asked for independence. Her mother had cried and hugged her so tightly when they were piling all of her stuff and the new furniture her parents had supplied into her cream unit in Hogsmede, while her father just held a watery smile continuing to tell her how proud they were by the strong, smart and brave woman she had become. Harry and Ron shared one of the three bedrooms in her large apartment. She was busy making breakfast when a groggy an obviously unhappy Harry slunk through the door and trudged to the table and grunted at Hermione his Hello. He unlike her was never a morning person. She plated his breakfast as quiet as she could before sending the pan and other dirty dishes to be washed. She put the food on the table as Ron began sniffing near the door automatically attracted to the smell of food. They all amazingly ate a quiet breakfast unusual for the boys normally chattered about qudditch madly while Hermione read a book over her breakfast.

"Bad night Harry?" Hermione finally inquired breaking the tension between all three of them. He gave her a look simply saying don't wanna talk about it. Once again tension built in the silence that followed that no one else dared to break. She was dazed and confused at his brut and prompt dismissal and rejection of her. This very unaccustomed of Harry and she did not know how to handle him in this grumpy and sullen manner.

Harry was very quiet today Ron had noticed. He had heard him slide out of bed the night before as he had drifted off like a piece of wood from a sinking pirate ship at sea to his slumber, having been awoken by Harry's moaning and grumbling and sudden disappearance. He would never question Harry, not a chance. That did not mean he did not love Harry who was akin to his many brothers and a long time crush of his younger sister though both of them knowing the danger of having a relationship had decided wisely against it insisting that there could be no weakness to be used against Harry. But his late nights had worried the ever young and sometimes too innocent but wicked for his own good Weasley, he was tempted to follow but he could take his invisibility cloak and it was cold and he was tired so mostly he stayed in bed out of the mischief that his now distant best friend who was sitting his mind always running, over the table from the fiery red hair of his always devoted, brave and trustworthy friend.

Through his own insanity Harry could see his friend's faith in him depleting and any source of hope in him ran as dry as the deserts of Antarctica. And his nights just as dark and cold with only the Aurora Borealis to light the way the small glimmer of lights in the sky always to far away to touch and never really enough to see beyond his hands. He knew he had only himself to blame for the stress placed upon his own head. He wished that there was something he could say or do to change the mind of his friends whom normally are as loyal as a Saint Bernard, minus the barrel of whiskey around the neck of course. Wallowing in his own depression he could see no help, and being the famous Harry Potter he was too proud to ask for help. And without Dumbledore around and living in Hogsmede life was more dangerous than it had been seventeen years previously when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named a.ka Voldermort had first fallen from power as now, and Potter knew it, his ranks had increased as had the power amongst the new recruits.

Hermione was perplexed by the facial expression worn by one both of her two closest friends. Ron obviously did not get as much sleep as he pretended and if Harry thought she had not noticed him coming and going all hours of the night. She wanted to ask him what he was doing but knew it was in her best interest not to pry. Besides she was so busy with S.P.E.W and trying to keep up her studies along with bills and rent and working her life was crazier than it had ever been. Even the years at Hogwarts did not compare to the year she knew would lie ahead of her. Power was mounting and she knew it. She was more scared than she had ever been too. Harry was not the man he used to be either. Hermione could see the cloud of darkness and depression shrouding Harry and was perplexed at what to do about it. She wanted to reach out and hold him comfort him somehow but never really knew where to start. They ate their breakfast drudgingly in complete silence, Hermione pushing her food around her plate feeling her appetite suppressed further with every passing minute. She drummed her bored and once idle fingers against the dark wood of their dining table where, with her constant insisting they ate all of their meals. It would just be another day to her. She had now formed a system in which she took every day at a time knowing that each day would find her in some new uncomfortable situation but she didn't know just how uncomfortable today's events would make her.

Ron felt like smacking Harry over the back over the head hoping he would get a head ache just as bad as his own due to the sleep that was robbed of him and the sleepless hours spent staring at the ceiling hoping his friend would return to him but when he woke in the morning after a bare amount of sleep, Harry was fast asleep in his bed. This obviously disgruntled him even further. Ron could sleep through a hurricane so he knew that if he had fallen asleep he would not wake at his friend's arrival and he didn't. Harry had slipped as quite as possible as the quiet of the god forsaken hour of his return would allow him, even though Harry knew as well as Ron did that his friend would not wake up and only prayed that he was asleep. Ron knew that Harry had hit his head hard and it took everything he could muster not to laugh over the breakfast table at his unfortunate friend. He loved Harry to bits, it didn't mean he always liked him but there was no doubt in his mind how much he trusted him. A lot.

Harry knew something was wrong due to the lack of conversation. Hermione now stared at her plate like it was going to grow a mouth and teeth and eat her instead. Her lack of appetite really seemed to worry Harry sometimes. She was so thin and pale that it worried him to no end at times and when she gave food the look she was giving her plate right now. He knew her mind was far away in thought as her intelligent mind tended to do when there was something serious to think about and she was good at sensing problems. He just hoped he wouldn't figure out his secret just like she was hoping he would not find out hers. He also hoped that the look he reserved for her food would never be sent in his direction. When living at Hogwarts she had been so happy and so very healthy but now since the murder of Dumbledore and the accusation of Draco Malfoy she had not been herself. The house elves had cooked her food and despite protesting at first about it, in the end she would still eat but now even when she cooks for herself and also her two best friends she would simply push around her plate, take a few bites here and there and finally either put it away for later picking or throw it away completely disgusted by the meal on her plate. Sometimes she would take a whole day to eat an entire plate of food. Not only was she hardly eating but there were other things since the end of 6th year and the beginning of now her 7th year that she no longer did. Like reading, famous for curling up in front of the fire with a large book hiding her face, she sat like a couch potato in front of the television bought for her by her parents, sometimes looking at a black screen and other times watching the mindless dribble without saying much. That was another thing; she had not really spoken much in months. When we had moved in together she had been so happy but now she was distant and this worried Harry. Then a plan formed itself in his mind.

Ron was worried at the look on both of his friend's faces. Hermione had looked the same for a while now, with moments of happiness like a handful of confetti thrown over a cliff. As soon as the wind picked it up it was gone before you can grab it back and hold onto it. As much as he loved Hermione he knew that she could never love him in the way he felt for her. He wanted to help her so badly but he knew that he could never provide her with what she needed as well as he knew that he would never be with her. Harry on the other hand had a sadistic smile that worried him beyond belief and he hoped that his face did not betray how he felt inside.

Hermione snapped out of her revere and looked at her two friends who were both acting very strange, Harry looked like Voldermort on happy gas and Ron... Ron just looked constipated. Then again when didn't Ron look constipated, the amount of food that boy ate it didn't surprise her. She looked at her food once more and lifted a fork to her lips before picking up her plate in silence, emptying the contents into the bin and washed her dishes before sitting back in front of the television to watch her DVD's of Desperate Housewives again.