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A/N: Here's chapter nine for you! Hope you enjoy! Happy reading!


Chapter Nine: Anger All Around

Hermione's POV

I still feel awful for tricking Ron like this. I could tell last night that it really hurts him I haven't told Aria about him yet. But I can't bring myself to tell her just now.

It's early morning now, and no one else is up yet. The room Ginny set up for me is beautiful – full of gold and scarlet. There's a window across from my bed with a beautiful view of Ginny's back yard garden – which is normally filled with hundreds of gorgeous flowers, I'm sure.

Right now, it's about six in the morning, so it's still dark out. I'm sitting on my bed, in the dark, just thinking. I still can't believe Aria won a chess game – against Sean nonetheless, who had probably had a lifetime amount of training from Ron. She was ecstatic about it last night. It was so cute.

Feeling restless, I slide out of bed. Pulling open the door as quietly as I can, I slip into the dark hall. In my bare feet I pad down the hall. I go down the four steps that lead to the landing, and I stare up at all the framed photographs. Most of them are of Harry and Ginny's family here. A lot of the lower ones are of their children – I still can't believe they have five kids! I couldn't imagine going through childbirth even once more, let alone four more times!

Still feeling fidgety, I start down the spiral staircase that leads to the second floor. I stare at the photos as I pass. Most of these are of Ron, Harry, and me from school. As I go downward the occupants of the photos grow older. I smile at one of the pictures of us from fourth year. It was at the Yule Ball. I remember how insanely jealous Ron was when he found out I was going with Victor and I grin at the younger version of myself in the picture.

The fifteen-year-old me is scowling at Ron, who is scowling at Victor. Harry is seated beside Ron, looking exasperated at our stupidity, and Victor looks extremely uncomfortable. Another one catches my eye, and I feel my breath catch in my chest. It's from right after Professor Dumbledore's funeral at the end of our sixth year. Ron, Harry, and I are sitting under our favorite tree by the lake. We don't look … happy exactly, but we look peaceful for once, despite the fact that there's a war raging everywhere else.

"Hey, you're up early."

I whirl around to see Ron standing a few steps up, almost out of sight beyond the tight turns in the spiral staircase. He walks toward me, smiling.

"Couldn't sleep," I reply.

"Me neither," he says, coming to a stop beside me. He notices the picture of us and a strange expression takes over his face. I realize it's the last picture ever taken of all three of us together. During the war we didn't have time for pictures, and I left barely a month after the war was over.

"I love this picture of you," Ron says, pointing to another picture I never noticed. It's from our fifth year, right before O.W.L.s and I'm sitting in a huge armchair in front of the fire, studying from a giant album of Ancient Runes. The firelight is reflecting off my hair, and I look exhausted.

"Why?" I ask, laughing slightly. Ron shrugs.

"Dunno. I just do. Someone managed to capture the real Hermione on camera. Maybe that's why I love it so much. In this picture, you're you."

"I'm always me," I say, confused.

"No. No, you're not," Ron says, looking down at me. I stare up at him, unsure of what he means.

"What do you mean?" I ask, puzzled.

"Even that first time I saw you after Diagon Alley last summer, I could tell. You aren't Hermione anymore," he says.

"What are you talking about? I'm still Hermione," I say, exasperated.

"No you aren't! You aren't Hermione! Hermione Granger is clever, witty, sassy, sarcastic when you have to be, smart, and loves to read! Not … this," he says, gesturing toward me with his hand.

"What are you saying?" I ask, starting to feel a bit offended.

"You aren't Hermione anymore."

I glare at him. "How could I be the same person I was twelve years ago, Ron? I lost everything the day I left! I lost my friends and the people I'd come to regard as my family. I lost you," I whisper, tears starting to swim in front of my eyes.

He gives me a funny look, and it isn't a look that makes me feel good either. "You didn't lose me," he sneers, and I take a step back. "You left me remember? If anything, I lost you! You didn't lose anything, Hermione! You left!" he snarls.

"You have –"

"– no idea? Hermione, how can you say I have no idea if you don't tell me? Yes, you had to raise Aria all by yourself, I get it. Yes, you had to leave all your friends behind! But you know what, Hermione? If you hadn't left, you never would have lost anything! You stole my daughter away from me, Hermione. You deliberately kept me out of her life. How can you say you lost anything? I lost everything when you left! I lost my best friend. I lost the woman I loved. I lost my daughter! You make me sick," he says, shoving me out of his way. He storms away, not even looking back. A few seconds later he disappears around a corner.

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Harry's POV

I'm woken up by the sound of someone shouting from the direction of the stairs. I stumble out of bed and head down the hall to silence the disturbance before everyone is awake and cranky. I can't make out any words until I come to the head of the stairs. Then Ron's angry voice floats upward to me.

"…I lost my best friend! I lost the woman I loved! I lost my daughter! You make me sick."

Worried, I hurry down the stairs, toward the noise of someone – most likely Hermione – crying. When I turn the corner and see her sitting on the stairs, sobbing, I pick up the pace.

"Hermione?" I ask, concerned. She looks up at me, her face a mask of despair. I sit down next to her. "What happened?"

She looked at me and shook her head wordlessly, tears still streaming down her face.

"Oh, Hermione," I sigh, wrapping my arms around her. She buries her head in my neck like Chanel does when she's especially sad and wraps her arms around me, shaking with sobs.

"D-did you h-hear any of that?" she asks shakily.

"Only the last little bit," I answer truthfully.

"The part where Ron told me how much he hated me?" she asks, laughing bitterly.

"That's not what he said," I chide her.

"Might as well have," she mumbles.

"Hermione, Ron loves you," I say, knowing I shouldn't go where I am. She pulls back sharply.

"I never want to hear you say that again," she growls. I nod, knowing I just crossed one of Hermione's lines. I look at her, and I see something I didn't know existed in Hermione. I look at her, and I see helplessness.

"Hermione," I start, but she shakes her head.

"Forget it Harry. Coming here was a mistake." She stands up to leave, but I grab her arm before she can get away.

"Hermione, let me finish." She nods for me to continue. "Hermione, we all missed you. You have no idea how great it is to have you back."

"According to Ron, you don't have me back," she says, rolling her eyes.

"What?"

"Ask him!" she screeches, and I can see I definitely struck a nerve.

"Hermione, please stay. Aria's missed you so much." She gives me a dirty look for using Aria against her.

"I'll stay – but only for Aria's sake," she snarls, jerking away from me and going back upstairs. I watch her go, thinking of what she said about Ron just a bit ago. What did she mean?

I head downstairs, and then down to the first floor. I head left, down to the very end of the hall, where the door is slightly ajar. I push open the door silently and look inside. Ron's sitting in the kitchen at the counter on a barstool, stirring the ice in a glass of water with a straw he probably found in the cupboard where Ginny thinks they're hidden from James and Drew (they use them for their "experiments", not that I want to know what they're doing).

"Hey, mate," Ron says without looking up. I go and sit down beside him.

"Talked to Hermione," I tell him. He nods.

"I screwed up," he mumbles, stirring the ice around and around until the water in the glass makes a whirlpool.

"Yup."

"Gee, thanks, Harry."

"No problem."

"Harry?"

"Ron."

"Why do I do that?"

"Do what?"

"I always say the exact opposite of what I should say."

"What do you mean?"

"When it comes to Hermione, I can never think straight, mate. I know what I should say to her, you know? But it always comes out the wrong way. When I mean to compliment her, I make it ten times worse than an insult. What's my problem?"

I look at him, wondering if I should say what I'm thinking. I tried that with Hermione, and she just about killed me. I glance at Ron. We've been best friends since we were eleven years old.

"Ron, you wanna know what your problem is?"

"Tell me, Harry."

"You're in love."

"Huh?" He looks at me like I'm crazy, giving me one of those 'of-course-I'm-in-love-stupid-I'm-married-aren't-I?' looks.

"You're in love."

"Yeah I – "

"With Hermione."

"WHAT?"

"You're in love with Hermione."

"That's rubbish."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Complete rubbish."

"Whatever you say."

He glares at me. I can tell he doesn't believe me, but I know I'm right. The way he looks at Hermione when he thinks no one is looking. He may be married to Keira and have three kids with her (even if, technically, only two are his), but he is still head over heels in love with a certain Hermione Granger.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ron."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, Ron."

"What am I gonna do?"

"Do?"

He turns to look at me, his face covered in confusion. "What am I gonna do about being in love with Her… Herm… her," he says.

"Do?" I ask again, still confused as to what he means.

"Yes, do!"

"You can't do anything!"

"Why not?"

"Ron, you're married." He looks at me blankly. "Do you love Keira?"

"Yes."

"Do you love Sean and Abby and Henry?"

"Yes, of course I do!" he says indignantly.

"So you aren't going to do anything! You're going to act like nothing has changed."

Ron groans and bangs his head on the counter – which, I might add, is made of marble.

"How can I do that, Harry?"

"Because you have a family you love and you don't want to hurt them do you?"

"Of course not."

"Then you're going to pretend you have no feelings for Hermione other than platonic friendship feelings. Got it?"

"I'm going to screw this up," he mutters.

"How?"

"I always say the worst thing to her. I say the thing that hurts the most, and then I lose my temper and hurt her even more. It's not that I want to hurt her, Harry. I just don't know what else to do. It just infuriates me that she left and she's trying to blame me! Trying to make me feel bad with all that 'I lost everything' rubbish!"

"Maybe it just hurts so much that she left that you don't know what else to do," I suggest. He shrugs.

"I just wish she'd never left sometimes, you know? Sometimes I miss her so much I almost wish I'd never met Keira."

I nod. "Yeah, I know. I miss Hermione sometimes too."

"And sometimes I just get so mad that she left, and she never even told me about Aria. I mean, she's my daughter too and – " he breaks off and looks around. "What was that?" he hisses. I listen. There's a scuffling sound outside the door and then the sound of footsteps running away. Ron jumps up and runs to the door. I follow quickly.

We stick our heads out the door just in time to see someone's sock disappearing around the corner. Ron starts forward, but I grab his arm.

"Forget it Ron."

"What if that was Sean?" he asks anxiously, pulling against my grip. "What if he heard what I said about Keira?"

"Just forget it. You'll know soon enough if it was Sean," I say, knowing that if it was Sean, the house won't be very peaceful for a few days.

Ron sighs and his arms go limp, and I know it's safe to release him. I do so and he looks back at me. "My life is way too complicated," he says. I laugh.

"Mine too."

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Jake's POV

I run. And run some more. And I keep running until I'm sure no one is following me. Then, breathing harder than I've ever breathed before, I turn one more corner and open a door that leads to one of the storerooms on this second floor hall.

I shut the door quietly behind me and walk further into the room, looking over my shoulder as I do so. I keep walking toward the back of the room, but it just keeps going. I'm sure I've never been in this room before (and I've been to Harry and Ginny's house quite a few times in my life). There are cardboard boxes, wooden crates, and big cupboards all over the place. Looking behind me one more time to make sure I'm not being followed, I go to the nearest crate and pry the lid off.

Inside are a bunch of old spell books, probably from Harry's years at school, considering 'Property of Harry J. Potter' is scrawled inside almost all of them. I put the lid back on and move on. In the next crate are Ginny's old school books from her first through third year. These are really tattered and I remember how Ginny used to talk about how poor her family was when they were in school. She and Harry sure have it good now, what with Harry having been an Auror for ten years before applying for a position at the school. And even before that Harry had a lot of money from his parents.

I close up that crate too and sit on it to think. Last night, looking at Abby on Aria's lap, I couldn't get it out of my head how much they looked alike. It was like looking at a miniature version of Aria with redder hair and darker eyes. And Aria has never said a word about having a father. And last night I got to thinking … what if Ron is Aria's dad? So this morning, when I woke up to hear Ron yelling about something or other, naturally, I had to investigate. I walked downstairs to hear Harry talking to Aria's mum.

I'm still in shock over what Harry said to her. 'Ron loves you.' But Ron loves Keira! So when Hermione went back upstairs – I was barely able to hide before she came by – and Harry went downstairs, I followed Harry. And I got there just in time to hear Ron admit it – he does love Aria's mum!

I can't believe this. What am I going to tell Sean? And what about Aria? If she doesn't know who her father is she'd want to know…

"You can't tell her you know."

I jump at the voice. I turn around to see Harry standing behind me, leaning against the wall. I see him slip a packet of parchment into his pocket, and I glance at him curiously. He just smiles.

"A simple invention of mine," he says simply, coming to sit beside me on the other crate.

"What do you mean I can't tell her?"

"You can't tell Aria what you heard."

"Why not?" I ask indignantly. I mean after all, Aria is my friend! I should be able to tell her who her own father is!

"You have to let Hermione and Ron work that out between themselves."

"Are Ron and Keira going to split up?" I ask worriedly.

"No! Why would you think that?"

"Ron said he was in love with Hermione."

"He's still in love with Keira though."

"How can you be in love with two people at the same time?" I ask, confused.

"It's like … I love Ginny."

"Of course."

"But I love Lily and Chanel and James and Drew and Tristan too don't I?"

"That's not the same thing," I protest.

"Why not?"

"Because Lily and Chanel and everybody are your kids, and Ginny's your wife. That's different than being married and loving another woman at the same time."

"Don't you worry about Ron and Keira. Everything will be fine. Ron's not going to abandon his family," Harry says, obviously trying to be reassuring.

"But isn't Aria his family too?" I ask. "He abandoned her."

"Ron did not abandon Aria!" Harry growls, and I jump. He looks angrier than I've ever seen him – and I've done a lot of things to make him angry before.

"I just mean…"

"I get it."

"Harry?"

"What, Jake?"

"Does Hermione love Ron?"

"I don't know, Jake."

"Do you think she does?"

"I think … I think that deep down, she knows she does. But she's too scared to admit it. She'd never do anything to hurt Ron's family, so she pretends she hates him. That's what I think," he says quietly.

"Is Aria ever going to know about Ron?"

"Someday."

"I hate keeping secrets."

"I know," he says with a laugh. "But you have to. Hermione will tell Aria in her own time. You have to have faith in her."

"I don't even know her," I tell him, and he grins at me.

"I realize that. But I do – or I like to think I do. She keeps her word. She'll tell Aria when the time is right. But now, I think it's time for breakfast, don't you?"

I jump up. "Breakfast sounds great!" I tell him, and he laughs.

"Lets go then."

So we do. We make our way out of the maze-like storage room and down the stairs and down the hall and into the dining room where everyone is gathered together for breakfast, still in their pajamas (well, Keira's not in her pajamas, because she'd rather die than be seen in the morning still looking like she just got up, and Aria is dressed, probably out of habit, but that's not the point). Everyone, that is, except Aria's mum. Ginny and Keira are both trying to get their youngest children to eat their breakfasts, and Ron is eating somewhat absentmindedly with Abby sitting on his lap. As I sit down between Aria and Sean, I notice Ron's eyes on me, and I look away quickly. He knows that I know.

I glance at Abby again, and then at Aria. Abby is picking at her food with a very tired look on her face. Her red hair is uncombed and knotted, and she looks ready to kill anyone who so much as says 'good morning' to her. Aria on the other hand, is wide awake. Her hair is combed and clipped up with these little butterfly clips. She's wearing blue jeans and a baby blue sweater with sparkles on it that catch the light. She looks pretty. She catches my eye and smiles slightly.

Breakfast proceeds pretty silently. After eating, I get out of there as fast as I can. You could've swept up the tension in there with Harry's old Firebolt!

"Hey." My arm is suddenly in the clutches of an all too familiar hand.

"Hey, Ron."

"You haven't told her, have you?"

"If you mean Aria, no, I haven't told her anything," I say, jerking my arm away. "But I should," I add angrily. "I should tell her everything. But I won't," I say, turning away.

"Jake, what's the matter?"

"If you love her so much why did you marry Keira?" I snarl, not able to help myself. He flinches as if he was just hit.

"You don't understand," he snaps. Then he laughs. "How could you? You're twelve years old! You know nothing of love."

I glare at him as he walks away. I might not know much about love, but I do know that if I were him, I wouldn't have married another woman if I was in love with someone else.


A/N: Alright, chapter ten is coming up next! Who is getting excited?