Chapter Ten

"Are you ever going to tell me what's actually going on between you and Hermione?" Ron asked Harry, as he watched his best friend finish up with his dinner in the Great Hall. Harry had made it just in time to fill his plate before the food disappeared. Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

Harry chewed meaningfully on the piece of steak in his mouth, thinking hard about what he could say without completely breaking down in front of the redhead. The last thing he wanted was to talk to Ron about all of this. Hermione was usually the one he talked to.

"Because I can't go home knowing my two best friends are on the outs. It's going to ruin everything."

Harry risked a look at the redhead. They'd come so far from where they were when Harry's name first flew out of the Goblet. Ron seemed to realise that was what Harry was thinking because he sat up straight.

Ron cleared his throat. "I mean, whenever we're on the outs, it's usually temporary, and my fault. But with you and Hermione, Merlin, it feels like it might be permanent. And I don't like it."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that, mainly because he'd never heard Ron be so vocal about any of their friendships. "It's going to be fine," Harry said softly, even though his words felt like a lie. He was sure even Ron could see through the pained look on his face. He didn't know if things would actually be okay. What was okay anyway? Was it how he and Hermione were before the year began, or some time during the year? Frankly, that didn't matter... as long as it wasn't how they were now. He'd be willing to go back to a time when he wasn't in love with her if it meant she would still be his best friend and confidante.

"Do you honestly believe that?" Ron asked, sounding particularly irritated. "I mean, I'm not pretending to be some kind of genius but I was kind of standing right next to her when she told you that she, umm, loved you. In fact, she said she loved you too, which really means that you told her you loved her first." Ron even shuddered at the words. Clearly, the word 'love' was too much for anyone to handle. "In my experience, and I won't say I have much or any at all, two people who love each other and know they do is supposed to be a good thing, right?"

Harry didn't respond.

"And now it's like the fact that you love each other is the worst thing to happen since the birth of Draco Malfoy."

Harry stood up, suddenly losing his appetite - and his temper. "Look, Ron, I don't know what you want me to tell you." His voice was strained, like he was barely holding on. "It isn't even important. Cedric is dead! Voldemort is back! There are more things to worry about than what Hermione and I feel for each other!"

Ron looked stunned, but he eventually nodded. Clearly, everything that was happening was affecting his best friend a little more than he liked to let on. It even seemed to affect the way he carried himself. Head down, shoulders sagged.

"Sorry," Harry said, feeling guilty. "I just, I just think I've done enough talking for one day, so I think I'm just going to go to bed now. I'll see you in the morning."

Ron sat perfectly still as he watched his male best friend rush out of the Great Hall like he couldn't wait to get away. Ron took a deep breath, gathering his own thoughts. He really had only one option left. If Harry wasn't going to give him any answers, then Ron was going to have to talk to Hermione himself. He, once again, shuddered at the thought.

Ron just knew that he couldn't allow them to go their separate ways for the summer with everything so up in the air. Things had to be resolved by the time they boarded the Hogwarts Express because, as much as he hated to admit it, Ron knew that Harry needed Hermione much more than he needed him.

Rising from the table, Ron set about locating his other best friend. Finding her, though, was not easy. He checked in all the usual places, even combing through every row of bookshelves in the library, which was actually quite the feat. He searched the classrooms to no avail, even sneaked into a few girls' bathrooms, much to the horror of a group of second years. No sign of Hermione.

It was getting late. Ron returned to the Gryffindor common room, half expecting to find Harry and Hermione seated side by side on the couch opposite the fire, doing that strange finger thing that they did. He was irritated when they weren't to be found. Ron had just managed to get used to it, and now they'd gone and ruined it all.

Ron shuffled towards Lavender, noting that neither of his best friends was actually in the round room. "Hey, Lavender," he said softly, wary of interrupting her conversation with Parvati. "Is Hermione around?"

Lavender regarded him, her face expressionless. The sincerity in his tone threw her. "No, she hasn't come back yet," she said. "I think I heard Ginny say she headed out the back of the Castle. She might have gone to see Hagrid."

"Oh." Ron sounded defeated. "Thanks." He moved away from the girls and settled in an armchair, his own mind trying to make sense of what was going on with his friends. They definitely weren't acting like themselves, which was quite understandable when you threw the word 'love' into the mix. Ron just wished they'd talk to each other. Better yet, he just wanted them to look at each other.

Ron remained in his armchair, determined not to move until Hermione returned. He watched the portrait hole like a hawk, his heartbeat picking up whenever it opened, only to leave the boy disappointed every time. Slowly, the room started to clear, students retiring to their dorm rooms. Still, Ron remained. Still, Hermione didn't return.

Just when he was starting to doze, the portrait opened one final time and his bushy-haired best friend stepped through, looking utterly spent. Ron immediately got to his feet, surprising Hermione.

"Where have you been?" he asked, sounding weary and breathless. He was also a bit irritated. Waiting up for her was cutting into his sleeping time, and Ronald Weasley loved his sleep.

Hermione didn't answer him. "What are you still doing up?"

"I've been waiting for you," he said curtly. "Where have you been?"

Hermione blinked back her surprise at his tone of voice. Perhaps she would tell him the truth. What could it hurt? And, really, he looked like there was something rather pressing he wanted to say to her. Hermione was under no guise that it obviously had something to do with Harry. She might not have been ready to hear whatever he had to say earlier that afternoon, but she supposed now she was.

"Hermione?" Ron prompted, allowing his tiredness to creep into the way he said her name. It had an almost pleading sound, which he quite hated.

"I was having tea with Professor McGonagall," she eventually said.

Ron frowned. Definitely not what he'd expected. "I was looking for you," he said quietly. "I need to talk to you."

Hermione stepped further into the common room and sat down in the armchair he'd just vacated. She placed her hands in her lap and waited. She would let him get to whatever he wanted to say, all on his own. Hermione'd already had an earful from her favourite professor.

"You're being an idiot," Ron finally said, surprising even himself. When he'd set out to find her, he'd never expected to call Hermione Granger an idiot. Those two were mutually exclusive, if ever there were two things.

Hermione's eyes snapped towards him, though she said nothing. In her mind, she conceded she might have deserved it. In fact, it was probably the word most apt to describe her unHermione-like behavior. She'd called herself an idiot countless times during the late evening with McGonagall. It didn't stop her from feeling angry about Ron calling her one though. She would address it at another time.

Ron paced in front of her. "You and Harry are like... I mean, you're Harry and Hermione. And this whole thing between you is just stupid." Again, another word that was probably never used to describe anything to do with Hermione. "Hermione, things happened to him," he said somberly. "Terrible, bad things, and he needed us - both of us - because I wouldn't be enough. He needed you, and you weren't there."

Hermione's guilt made her neck heat up in shame.

"You weren't there! How could you not be there? You're the one who's supposed to stay; the one who he put his undying faith in, because you're the one he believes will never leave him." Ron felt hot, like all the unspent anger within him was warming his body. "He watched Cedric die, Hermione. He was cut, blood drawn to bring back that wretched You-Know-Who. He fought him again. He did that, and he survived. He bloody well survived, Hermione! Again! Harry Potter evaded death again, and you're acting like you wish he'd died."

Hermione stood up at that, needing to be at eye-level with Ron. "Don't!" she said hotly, almost yelling. "Don't you ever say something like that. How could you even think something as vile as that?"

Ron didn't back down, though the fire in her eyes made him a little wary about how to proceed. "Well, what am I supposed to think? You can't even look at him. It's... it's as if just the sight of him makes your insides turn, but in a bad way. You're supposed to be his best friend and it's like you don't even care about what happened to him; about what he's going through right now."

Hermione stared at Ron, feeling like anything she said would be pointless. Ron was right, in some way at least. Hermione didn't know where Ron found the guile to discuss such a topic with her. After the year they'd had, Hermione wasn't sure she'd quite forgiven Ron. Not the way that Harry did, if he actually had.

Her anger with Ron came from a place where she'd been left to deal with insuring Harry's safety on her own. It was too big for one person. But then, Hermione wasn't sure she trusted anyone else to protect him the way she could, she would. Even Dumbledore made her uneasy. This was the man who allowed a fourteen-year-old boy to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. How could he have expected that decision to end well? A student was dead, another had watched it happen and the darkest wizard of their generation was alive again.

"You said you love him?" Ron suddenly asked, drawing Hermione from her thoughts.

"What?"

"Love," Ron said the word with a grimace. It just felt strange to say. These were his best friends he was talking about. "What was that all about? You said it was the problem."

Hermione thought back to her lengthy discussion with Professor McGonagall. They had spent hours talking about the events of the year, up to and including the past few days; the days following the Third Task. Hermione even admitted to the Professor that she was in love with Harry. Despite McGonagall's obvious glee, she remained calm. She picked up on Hermione's hesitation.

When Hermione explained her thoughts, the Professor understood. The talk had helped immensely, and now Ron was just beating what she now knew into her. It made sense that she would explain herself to Harry before she explained herself to Ron, but now the redhead was asking her questions that were going to lead to answers. Maybe it would do her well to discuss it all with someone who understood what it was like to be so close to Harry Potter.

"The part that scares me the most is that I don't know who I would be without him," Hermione said softly, not sure that Ron would understand. The truth was she didn't quite understand it all that much herself. It just seemed too big a problem for teenagers. Wasn't she supposed to lose herself in love? Like a kid.

She had to stop there and consider the truth that they really weren't children. They were old souls, having witnessed too many horrors. Harry Potter would never be allowed to be just a boy. Not even in love.

"And with him?" Ron asked.

"I don't really care who I am when I'm with him," she admitted, thinking shamefully about the Dark Arts book. "I should, and I desperately want to, but I don't. He's Harry. I just needed some time to wrap my head around all of it."

Ron smirked. "You're normally quicker to catch on, you know?"

Hermione had to smile. She felt a bit relieved that Ron, despite his insults, didn't seem to hate her. In fact, he seemed to grasp what she was feeling, which was really odd. Maybe he too had lost sight of himself in his feelings towards Harry.

"You love Harry, don't you, Ron?" Hermione asked curiously.

Ron's eyes bulged. "Hermione, seriously, I know Harry and I talk a good game, but we're really not like that."

Hermione let out a light laugh. "I don't mean romantic love, silly. He's your best friend. You care about him. Would do just about anything to make sure nothing bad happened to him, even if he told you he didn't deserve it."

All the while, Ron was nodding. "Of course."

She took a deep breath. "Imagine what you feel, and try to intensify it. Imagine it being all-consuming, mind-numbing... It changes you. I turned myself inside out this year, because I could not and cannot handle the thought of losing him. He had to survive, no matter what. Before, he was just my friend. For a while, my only one. I could never part with him. How could I, or anyone, exist in this life without him?

"Every day that Harry is alive is a day that Voldemort uses to plot against him. He's valiant and brave and too good for what the world has done to him. He deserves everything great from the world -"

Ron cut her off. "Including you."

Hermione's breath caught. "What?"

"Don't do that," he said, only slightly annoyed. "You know how important you are to Harry. Not only now or even this year, but always. You are great. He knows it. I know it. You must know it."

Hermione dismissed his comments, choosing to sidestep them rather than acknowledge them. She and Ron had never had this type of conversation. It was definitely throwing her for a loop. "That's not important," she dismissed. "I'm trying to tell you why I ended up acting like an idiot; why I would be stupid to run away from being loved by Harry Potter." At least, that was what she thought she was doing.

Ron was listening.

"Harry has a strength you and I will never understand. I don't know where it comes from or how it came to exist within him, but it's there. He feels everything. Every bad thing that happens in this world is his fault. I don't know if it's the Dursleys' fault, but he's a guilty party even though nothing could remotely be his fault.

"It makes him vulnerable. It makes him susceptible to the ugliness of the world because, in his mind, he thinks he deserves it. Isn't that the most heartbreaking thing you've ever heard?" When no response came to her rhetorical question, she continued. "Despite all of that, he's so kind and thoughtful and perfect and true. And I never quite understood how that could be until I learned to fully appreciate who he was, came to adore him and love him dearly."

Ron was trying to follow what she was saying, and he was doing a good job of it. The problem was, though, he just didn't understand why she was saying what she was. "Hermione, I don't quite get what you're trying to tell me."

Hermione risked a smile. "Sorry," she said softly. "Frankly, I don't quite know what I'm trying to tell you either."

Ron laughed at that. "Reckon it's the love-brain?"

Hermione reached out and flicked his arm with her finger. "I suppose I was kind of just listing reasons why I love him, wasn't I?"

"You should be telling him, you know. Not me."

"I know."

"Get it together, Hermione. Harry Potter doesn't allow himself to need just anyone. This is what he's most afraid of. People leaving him. Make it clear to him you haven't abandoned him. I don't think he would recover if that were actually true."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I will. Tomorrow. As soon as I see him."

Ron nodded once. "All right. Goodnight." He twisted on his heel and moved towards the stairs. He halted and turned to look at her. "Say, Hermione," he sounded, getting her attention. "If you tell anyone about this conversation, I'll deny it. Hex me all you want."

Hermione had to smile. "Call me an idiot again and I might just."

"You deserved it," he said, shrugging.

Hermione dropped her head slightly. "Perhaps."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Ronald."

Harry didn't go down for breakfast in the Great Hall. Ron told Hermione that Harry wanted to have a lie in, which wasn't unusual but still rather suspicious. Ron also said that he was quite certain Harry hadn't slept a wink. The nightmares were bad.

Hermione spent most of the day on edge, waiting, wondering when she would see him. As soon as he was within sight, she would have to talk to him. Ron made her promise to have the situation resolved by the time they boarded the train. Harry'd said all he needed to say. Now it was her turn. Then, it would be up to him again. Hermione much preferred it that way.

It was late afternoon when it all came to a head. Hermione's mind turned to porridge when she spotted Harry sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room when she returned from the library. He looked smaller than she remembered, as if everything that had happened - and was still happening - was slowly making him disappear. He was hunched over a piece of parchment, scribbling something with his favourite quill. Well, it was actually her favourite, and he insisted on using it, now that he knew.

She moved towards him, desperately trying to calm her racing heart. Would he even want to talk to her?

"Harry?" she croaked, but he didn't stir. In fact, he did, barely lifting his head, but he appeared to believe he hadn't heard correctly.

In his mind, it was near impossible for him to hear Hermione's voice say his name. Probably wishful thinking.

Hermione tried again. "Harry?"

Harry's head snapped up and his eyes immediately settled on her, bulging in the process. "Hermione?"

"Can we talk?" she asked softly.

Harry looked stuck between a rock and a hard place; he didn't know how to respond. What did she want to say to him? From the look on her face, it couldn't be anything good.

"After you're done with whatever you're doing, of course," she added, trying to ease his mind. The panic on his face made her hate herself just a bit more for the way she'd treated him.

Harry just stared at her, much like every other student in the common room. This exchange could result in one of two things happening. Harry hoped for reconciliation of any kind but those few envious girls dreamed of witnessing a heated row between the out-of-sorts best friends. They wanted Harry freed up of any female companionship.

Hermione started to feel unsure of herself, which was very unlike her. Stepping forward to glance at the page before him, curiosity getting the better of her, she asked, "What are you writing anyway? Exams are over." Not that he'd written any.

Harry swallowed, searching for his voice. After their last conversation, this exchange was the last thing he expected. "It's a letter," he finally said. Then, dropping his voice to a whisper, he added, "to Sirius."

Hermione rocked on her heels. "I hope you're not writing terrible things about me," she said, trying to inject some semblance of humour into her tone.

Harry took a breath. "I actually haven't mentioned you." He didn't know why he said it, but it wasn't really to hurt her feelings. It was fact. Though, he didn't miss the way her expression faltered. "I was afraid writing it down would make whatever is going on real," he added, heat rising in his neck. Why did he suddenly sound like a little boy?

When Hermione didn't respond, Harry scribbled out the rest of his letter, signed it and then jumped to his feet.

Hermione stepped back in surprise and Harry just smiled apologetically.

He shrugged once, looking her in the eye. "Walk with me to the Owlery?" he asked.

Hermione nodded dumbly, stepping back and allowing him past. Before she followed him out of the portrait hole, she sneaked a look Ron's way. He gave a slight nod of his head. It was enough for Hermione to know that she and Harry were definitely about to have a conversation that would change everything.

Hopefully, though, for the better.