A Hundred Storms

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lay Down Your Arms
Does the pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?
Did someone break your heart inside?
You're in ruins

- 21 Guns, by Green Day

A gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder roused her from her quiet vigil beside Draco's bed. He still hadn't awoken yet from recovering from his wounds and Hermione had fallen asleep somewhere between her tears and the morning.

Hermione turned, but the person standing behind her was not whom she was expecting.

"Ron?" Hermione squinted with surprise through bleary red eyes.

"Good morning, Hermione," Ron Weasley smiled down at her.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, much more awake now and glanced over at Draco's unconscious form. She looked up at her old lover, who happened to be looking down with her with an unreadable expression.

"Good morning," Ron said again, this time taking his hand and retreating a few paces.

Hermione stood, her back now to the bed and Ron standing about five feet away. "What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"McGonagall owled Harry," Ron replied. "I happened to be there."

"Ron-"

"Why didn't you tell me, Hermione?" Ron looked at her.

Hermione closed her eyes and wished she had more time to wake up from the fog of sleep. She looked back up at him and she knew he wasn't talking about the Maliceptor.

"I didn't know," she said honestly, looking from Draco's still form and back at Ron. "I really didn't understand or know myself until a few days ago. I didn't even realize until last night how invested I was in this. Ron, he saved me from being the one in that bed or worse. He's laying there because he is either the most brilliant actor in the world or has some depth of emotion for me. I would like to believe it's the latter."

Ron looked down at her. Everything he cared for and everything he loved about Hermione was reflected in her stance, in her eyes. He kept his own eyes on her, a blank look on his normally expressive face.

"Ron?" Hermione asked gently. "Will you say something?"

"Why him?" Ron finally let out a breath he hadn't realized he has been holding in. "You could have any bloke you wanted, wizard or muggle. Why in Merlin's name would you choose the racist bastard over..."

"Things are different now," Hermione said wearily. "Open your eyes, Ron. The world is so different it's barely recognizable."

"Don't give me that," Ron bit back. "I know damn well what has changed. Don't you think I have as well?"

"Of course." Hermione moved a step closer to him and felt warm relief when he didn't back away. "I watched you change so rapidly in a matter of months. One of the worst days of my life was the day you left," Hermione paused when Ron flinched at the memory then continued. "But then you came back. The three of us were together again. The way it should be."

"But it's not enough," Ron interjected before Hermione could continue. "That's what you're trying to tell me, isn't it, Hermione? It's not enough that I found my way back."

"You should have never left in the first place," Hermione said, her head held high to him and finally met his stare dead on. "If you loved me you wouldn't have left."

"If you loved me you would have forgiven me," Ron shot back.

Hermione dropped her eyes and looked back towards Draco. "Then we don't love each other enough to compensate the damage we've done to one another," she said quietly. "But you're wrong. I have forgiven you. How could I not? But I can't forget it. I can't help but feel it hanging over us. It's like a Dementor to what relationship we might have had."

"So that's it?" Ron asked softly. The anger was slowly fading from his expression. "You're throwing me away?"

"Certainly not!" Hermione said quickly. "I don't want to live a life without you in it, but we don't have the love we wanted so badly. There's too much history between us, too much hurt."

"How can you even say that at his bedside?" Ron argued, nodding sharply to Draco's silent form. "History? The two of you could fill the library with hurt and history. Try again, Hermione."

"It's just not the same," Hermione said helplessly. "I can't explain it."

"Imagine that."

"Stop it," Hermione said irritably. "I'm trying. We have history, we have hurt. The difference is that we never tried to be anything else. He was never my friend, my best friend. I was never his."

"I don't understand," Ron admitted. "I just don't."

"I don't want to lose you," Hermione said. "But I can't lie to you, is that what you want? Something make-believe?"

"I want what we used to have," Ron muttered.

"What did we have?" Hermione asked him fairly.

Ron paused, unsure of what to say next. "I don't know," he finally said.

"I've loved you since I was eleven years old," Hermione said sadly. "Somewhere down the road the line got blurred. We got lost. The people we always thought we would grow to be are dead. It's not fair. It hurts, but it doesn't change things."

Ron looked down his freckled nose at the girl that always seemed only just out of reach. They played cat and mouse with one another for years, years before the desperate situation finally pushed them together. It had been too little, too late.

"I feel like you're telling me goodbye." Ron said softly.

"Never," Hermione shook her head furiously. "Never goodbye. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I never want to lose you. I want to see you succeed, see you happy. I want to see you fall in love and have a dozen children. I want to be your best friend, the way we were meant to be."

"You don't love me," Ron accused her.

"Not true," Hermione disagreed. "I can't possibly love you anymore that I already do."

Ron stared down at her and she met his gaze evenly. It was always a battle of wills, but neither ever wanted to give.

Ron gave.

"I know you're going to succeed," he told her. "I know you'll be happy, if you let yourself. If you fall in love...I hope he deserves you," Ron cleared his throat and avoided looking towards the hospital bed. "I know you were never interested in a dozen children, but I hope you have exactly as many children as you deem appropriate. I want to be your best friend, too. If that's what's meant to be...I'll take it."

Hermione didn't notice the tears that streamed down her cheeks. She looked up at her first love, her first everything, and finally managed a tiny smile.

Five minutes later Hermione found herself alone once more. The only sound in the room came from Draco's even breathing. When the hospital wing door closed behind Ron she wandered back to the bed Draco occupied and wondered why he wouldn't do her the courtesy of waking up.

"No change?" Hermione was startled for the second time that morning. This time when she turned back around to the sound of the voice it was Harry standing there, a concerned look across his face.

Hermione relaxed slightly and shook her head. "Nothing," she confirmed. "I can't stand the waiting. What if he doesn't wake up?" Hermione sank heavily into her chair and looked over at him.

"You know he will," Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "Besides, I've been out longer. He still has a long way to go if he wants to best me in hospital time."

"That would be classic," Hermione huffed up at him. "Of course he would try to stay unconscious longer than you out of spite."

"You ought to have a little more faith in me, Granger," a raspy voice grabbed Hermione and Harry's attention to be bed. "I like to think I've grown as a wizard as of late."

Hermione let out a tiny squeak. "Draco!" she cried and grabbed his hand. "You're awake!"

"Don't miss a trick, do you?" Draco winced and lifted is free hand to rub the back of his head. "Why do I feel like I've been trampled by a Hippogriff...again?"

Harry chucked and withdrew from the room, giving Hermione and Draco privacy.

"Do you not remember?" Hermione asked him hesitantly.

"I remember being in the potions classrooms," Draco rubbed his eyes. "The Maliceptor was there. Was it bigger than before?"

Hermione nodded. "Huge," she agreed. "Nasty. Nothing was working. The potion failed. You pushed me out of the way and took the hit."

"Wait, wait," Draco tried to sit up and failed, falling back onto the pillow.

Hermione poured water from the basin beside the bed and handed it to him. "Relax," she scolded. "You hit your head hard on the floor when you fell."

"You're trying to tell me I acted like a bloody Gryffindor," Draco mumbled but accepted the water.

"You really did," Hermione smiled. "Truly, it was inspirational. The Sorting Hat may make you the star of next year's song."

Draco sputtered his water. "Bloody well better not!"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "You do something heroic and don't want anyone to know? Why do you insist on keeping the best parts of you a secret from the world?"

Draco gulped down the rest of his water and she refilled the glass. When she offered it back to him he shook his head. "When can I get out of here?"

Hermione looked him over. "If experience has taught me anything, Madam Pomfrey will probably keep you at least another night. You really hit hard, but you do look much better."

"Have you been here all night?" Draco asked her softly.

Hermione nodded. "Which is quite an accomplishment. Usually Pomfrey will kick out anyone who isn't sick. I think McGonagall took pity on me."

"McGonagall was here?" Draco asked.

"Of course," Hermione was surprised he asked. "She's the headmistress. Why wouldn't she be involved?"

"Of course," Draco repeated numbly. "Granger, if I was out cold, how did you get us away?"

Hermione sighed. "I used a spell we hadn't tried yet," she said evasively.

"And that would be?"

"Sectumsempra," Hermione said evenly.

Draco's eyes shot to hers. "What?" he asked, not believing what he heard. "What was that?"

"I used Sectumsempra," Hermione articulated. "It just popped into my head. I don't know why. It worked, though, like the mirror before. It cut the Maliceptor-"

"I remember how that spell works, thank you," Draco said stiffly. "I suppose I can't complain that it worked. I'm surprised you used it."

"Kill or be killed," Hermione said without apology. "I just don't understand why it worked. Did Snape ever tell you anything about the spell?"

Draco shook his head. "Only that he created it in school. He came up with several of his own spells and potions."

"He was a remarkable man," Hermione said sadly. "Do you know why he changed sides?"

"Change of heart?" Draco guessed.

"Love," Hermione said simply. "He loved a muggle-born and Voldemort murdered her. After that he went to Dumbledore and never looked back."

Draco looked at Hermione with wide eyes. "Who?" he whispered. "When?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not the time, not my story," she replied.

"You say that a lot," Draco observed. "And who might the story belong to?"

"I'll let you know," Hermione told him. "I'll go fetch Madam Promfrey. Maybe we can spring you early."

"Wait," Draco tried to sit up again and managed to balance himself precariously on his elbows. "Thank you, Granger. For getting us out of there. I'm sorry the potion didn't work."

Hermione smiled. "You deserve my thanks as well. We'll think of something else."

Draco nodded and eased himself back down. Before she could talk herself out of it she swooped down and gently kissed his lips before departing to find the nurse.

(A/N) This one was so hard. It was essentially Ron and Hermione truly breaking up, a representation that they are truly over. It was also a way to show the softer and more mature side of Ron. I played around with making him explosive, but I truly think the Horcrux changed him, and I think it was for the better. Please review and let me know what you think!