"No! Go away, Harry! Get the hell away from me! Get away!" I could hear her crying. I hated to hear that sound.
"Look, Hermione, I'm really sorry... I wish we could still be friends..."
"No you don't! Go be friends with that Ravenclaw whore! I'm not stupid, Harry! Don't think I can't tell! Didn't you hear me? Go away!"
The whole SCHOOL had heard Hermione. It would have been hard not to. Harry had just dumped her. For Cho Chang, no less. Not that he told Hermione that, but she knew. It would be hard not to do that, too.
I heard Hermione get up. Stomp off. The library, of course. She told me, once, that reading all that stuff helps a lot when she's upset-- she get wrapped up in problems that weren't hers. Five minutes later I walked down to the library, to find Hermione crying into a copy of "Run Like the Wind: Simple spells to become faster."
"Hi," I said, sliding into the chair next to her. "How are you?"
"Um, I gotta go, Ron. I'm fine." And she slid past me and walked right out of the room.
Fine. Right. She wasn't. And I wished I could help her.
But she wouldn't let me. For days she said she was fine.
But if she was fine, then why did I hear her cry herself to sleep every night?
You need someone to hold you
You need something that you ain't been getting...
"Hullo," said Harry, sliding into the chair next to me right before Potions started.
"Hi," I said back, not enthusiastically. "Haven't seen much of you lately."
"Yeah, well, y'know," Harry was making excuses, "I've been busy, with school and Quidditch and stuff."
"Harry, I'm in all your classes. I'm also on the Quidditch team." I wasn't going to let him off the hook that easy. "You've been with Cho."
"So?" Now he was mad, but he just really wanted a fight. I could tell. "Why shouldn't I? She's my girlfriend, dammit!"
I punched him. Before I knew what was happening, we were fighting, pounding on each other, really hard, harder than any of my brothers ever had. I wanted to kill him. I didn't know why, exactly.
Then I saw Hermione slip out of the room, unnoticed and in tears.
I got up, dusted myself off (God, Snape. Ever heard of sweeping?), and walked out of the room.
And followed Hermione.
Yeah, I could be the one
To tell you what to do, but it don't mean nothing
Hermione walked quickly, briskly, sobbing. Past Gryffindor Tower. Past the Great Hall. Out the doors.
She was halfway to the Quidditch Field when she just sort of collapsed. She barely seemed to notice that she was suddenly sitting down. She cried louder, louder, heart-wrenching sobs that broke my heart into even more tiny pieces.
I whispered, "Hermione?"
She hadn't known I was there. She gave a start. She looked around. When she saw me, she tried to whisper my name. "Ro-". But Hermione couldn't finish before she started crying again.
I didn't know what to do.
I wanted to hold her, to tell her everything would be alright.
But that would be stupid.
I sat down next to her, just kind of plopped down. Not gently. But what did it matter anyway?
I didn't ask her what was wrong. I didn't have to.
"Oh, god, Ron," she sobbed. "I thought he loved me. I did. I did. He made me think he did. God, Ron, what's wrong with me?"
And you're holding on forever
But that something just ain't true
"Nothing's wrong with you," I whispered. My god. Was I really saying this? "I know there isn't."
Hermione stared at me, trying to figure out if I meant what I had maybe said. "Yeah right," she said quickly, pulling away from my words.
Was she running away from what I had said because she wasn't ready or because she never wanted to hear it?
And I know, it's what I'd do
Here I go
I didn't know whether I should say it again or not. I chose not.
"Harry's a loser, Herm," I said, running away from my previous words like a coward. "I mean, can't you see him in 20 years? He'll have a job at the Ministry that he'll hate, and he'll spend all his days reminding people about when he was young and famous and fought Voldemort. He'll be married to his seventh wife. He'll have no kids, because he'll never be married long enough to have them. And he'll buy one of those television things and he'll eat all his meals in front of it."
Hermione giggled, both because she liked thinking about that and she was glad I'd stopped saying what I really thought about her.
Cuz I could stop the world, cuz I love you.
I could stop the world, and I don't want to.
I could stop the world, and I won't.
Cuz it ain't enough
After our talk, our talk that might've been something but wasn't, things were easier. Kind of. Harry and I weren't speaking, but it was easier than the forced conversations we had been having. Hermione seemed happier, a little -- she stayed away from Harry at all costs, but she and I could, at least, have stupid conversations about nothing.
Not about anything that mattered.
And certainly not anything about what I had almost-said that day.
Never.
*****************************************************************************
Then one day Hermione didn't show up for class. Just like that.
I asked Harry if he knew what was wrong with her. He was so busy flirting with Mandy Brocklehurst that at first he didn't feel me tapping him on the shoulder. Finally he turned around. When he saw it was me, he scowled. "What do you want?"
"Look, Harry, this is important. Do you know where Hermione is?"
"How should I know?" He was impatient, angry that I'd interrupted him. "She wouldn't even answer me when I talked to her this morning."
"You-- you talked to her?"
"Well, yeah, I asked her what I should get Cho for her birthday. You know, she's a girl too, I thought maybe she might know....."
I turned around and ran.
I found Hermione next to the lake. Not crying, this time. Just staring blankly.
"I know what's wrong," I said.
"No, you don't." She didn't seem surprised to see me.
"Yes, I do, it's because of Harry asking you what he should get Cho."
She laughed, but it wasn't her normal laugh -- this laugh was high and cold. "Did you really think that's what it is? You really think I care what that shallow, infantile moron thinks of me? No way." She gazed out at the lake, and when she turned back around she could see I wasn't buying it. She seemed to shrink. In a tiny voice she said, "It was just... today would have been our sixth-month anniversary."
You had another bad day
You let me know you just can't take it
I couldn't help it. She looked so soft sitting there, so tiny, so.... beautiful. God. I sat down next to her and hugged her. Dammit.
She knew. She knew then, how I felt about her. But she pretended she didn't.
"I should've known," Hermione whispered, lone tears dropping out of her eyes. "He's Harry Potter, dammit. And who the hell am I? Just some buck-toothed Muggle. Malfoy was right about me, Ron. I'm a loser."
Did she really believe that?
She couldn't. It wasn't true, not a bit of it. I knew that, even if she didn't.
But what good would it do if she didn't know it?
"Think about it, Ron," Hermione went on. "The world's not a nice place. Millions of little children starve to the death every day. People are killed in the magical world by evil wizards, and in the Muggle world teenagers walk into school with guns and murder their friends. And yet no one even cares. People can't care about massacres in their schools, on their streets; who cares about one 16-year-old girl whose boyfriend just dumped her? No one. That's who."
I've given up on you
You live in truth and I know I can't fake it
Hermione suddenly began crying, not loudly, but helpless sobs. Like there was nothing left to do but cry. "So what else is there to do, Ron? What else? There's only one thing. Only one."
Cuz the stars you see
Are on a dirty sidewalk
And they ain't for wishin' new
If they don't come true
I had to ask. Hell, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn't what I thought it was.
"I think you know, Ron," Hermione answered. "I think you know."
I probably did. That was what I was afraid of.
"NO!" I screamed so suddenly it scared both of us. "No! No, you can't. You can't. Think of... think of all the reasons you have to live, Herm. You're smart. You're pretty. And I... I...." I stopped. I didn't have the guts to finish the sentence.
"You what, Ron?" I saw the beginnings, just the beginnings, of a smile. "You... what?"
"No," I said before I could stop myself. "No, I can't."
And I know, it's what I'd do
Here I go
"Fine then, Ron," said Hermione. "Fine. Maybe if you had... if you could...." She walked off.
I watched her go. I wanted to tell her, to tell her I loved her, but I couldn't. I couldn't. She couldn't do it, though. She couldn't. She wouldn't. Not my Hermione.
My Hermione.
Cuz I could stop the world, cuz I love you
I could stop the world, and I don't want to
I saw her that night at dinner, and the next day. For a week I saw her all the time, every day, at every class, every meal, for a week. We talked, same stupid chatter as before. Nothing seemed different.
Of course everything was. But you couldn't see it, not really, unless you looked deep: the smiles she gave to everyone but me, the different way she said my name, and her sudden inability to look me in the eye.
I knew everything was different, but I pretended not to know. Even when Dean asked "Hey Ron, what's up with you and Hermione?", I faked ignorance. It was easy. People like to believe you're stupid; it makes them feel better.
Later I realized that she was trying to give me a chance; that whole week was a final chance. She was trying to tell me, "You can save me. Help me. Tell me." It should have been obvious.
But I was too stupid to realize it.
I could stop the world, and I won't
Cuz it ain't enough
That week I truly believed everything was going to be alright. That I didn't have to worry.
I really was naive.
*****************************************************************************
Binns had given us some sort of composition, that much I knew. What was it about? I had no idea. Hermione will know, I figured.
I searched everywhere for her: Library, common room, Quidditch field, lake. Everywhere.
Only one place left. Girls' dorm. (Gulp.) I had never been there, which I suppose is odd for six years at Hogwarts. Ah well. Got to face your fears or you'll get detention, Weasley.
I knocked. Got no answer. Knocked again, still nothing. That probably meant Hermione wasn't there, I figured. But it also meant that Lavender wasn't in there changing, so I pushed open the door.
And I saw her.
On the ground. Not breathing. But not dead. No, no, not dead, Hermione isn't dead. No. No. No. She's just... playing a joke. Yeah, a joke. Not dead.
Then I saw the note.
I'm not too young for the world
And I can't change the world
To Whom It May Concern,
When whoever it is finds me, they might ask, "Why?" They could say, "Why did she do it? She had a perfect life. Top in the year, bound to be Head Girl next year, always smiling..." Which was true, I suppose. These things could make people happy. But not by themselves, not alone. Everyone needs to be loved. I just... wasn't.
So that's why. There just... wasn't anything there to live for. I wrote on this note, "To Whom It May Concern". But really, it won't concern any one. Everyone will pretend to care, then go to the common rooms and forget about me instantly.
Maybe, if things had been different.....
-Hermione Granger
I don't care for the world
It was the last line that made me break down instantly and start crying. If things had been different.... she had meant me, at least somewhat. Then I realized I had just thought of Hermione --- MY Hermione --- in the past tense.
I don't know how long I stayed there, holding the body that Hermione was no longer in. Hours. Until I realized. There was nothing left for me to do.
Which was probably what Hermione thought, too.
But she had been wrong.
I, however, was right, because without her, what was I?
Nothing. She had always been the one that made me feel different from my brothers. Special. That was why I loved her. She could always make me feel better with just a flash of her oversized teeth. (I had been so sad when she shrunk them.) Yes, she made me a person, not just one of the Weasley, but Ron. I loved it when it was just me-- just Ron, not the youngest Weasley boy. Ron, the first name no one had bothered to figure out.
Until Hermione.
So I walked, slowly, up the stairs to where the 3rd year boys dorm was-- the highest part of Gryffindor Tower. Slowly, I opened the window.
Well, I thought as I fell, at least this can make me different. Now maybe they'll finally know my name. None of my brothers has ever done this before.
And then I smiled, smiled as I fell.
I don't need to stop the world
It don't make sense, the world......