Ron walked into the Gryffindor common room, his dead-seeming eyes
searching for someone. Everyone stopped talking when he walked in. Ron was
past caring. If they stopped talking, it was because they were talking
about HIM and didn't want Ron to overhear. It never once occurred to the
youngest Weasley son that they might have been worrying about him.
They had reason to worry. Ron was thinner than he used to be. He never moved unless he had to anymore. He hardly spoke unless asked a question, and always answered as briefly as he could. His eyes had sparkled once, but now they were dull, weighed down by the bags under his eyes. No one saw him crying after the funeral, but no one saw him laughing either. Even Fred and George could not make him smile anymore, and that was a bad sign. Not that the twins were coping well themselves. There were noticeably less pranks these days.
Ron sighed. She wasn't in the common room. But her friends were, he thought to himself. "Lavender, where's Hermione?" She and Parvati shared a room with her, so they should know. "She didn't come down for breakfast."
"Did you try the library?" asked Parvati. Ron really isn't looking well, she thought.
Ron nodded dully. "I tried there first."
Lavender just looked at Ron, wondering to herself, not for the first time, what Harry's death had done to them all. "I think she is still in bed."
"Can you get her for me?" Lavender started to shake her head. "Lavender, please. She needs to get out of bed." She was still shaking her head. "All right, if you won't try to get her up, can you take me in there?"
Parvati was shocked. "Boys aren't allowed in the girls dormitory!"
"I know that! But we all KNOW what they're trying to prevent, and 'Mione and I wouldn't do that."
Lavender and Parvati just looked at each other for a moment, and then they looked at Ron. "Alright, we'll both take you." Lavender said with a sigh.
The two girls quietly escorted Ron to the girls dormitory. "This is it," Parvati said quietly. "I'll wait out here with Ron, and Lavender, go make sure she's awake and dressed."
Parvati stood nervously in the corridor with Ron while Lavender went into the bedroom the girls shared. Ron could here voices from the room, but he could not understand what they were saying.
After a minute or two, Lavender poked her head out hesitantly. "Hermione doesn't want you to come in."
Through the partially open door, Ron could see Hermione. She had her back to him, lying on the bed. He could see her shaking from the hallway. "That's nice," Ron said with a sigh. Then he stepped around Parvati, who was trying to stand between him and the door, and pushed the door the rest of the way open. Deftly dodging Lavender, he walked into the room softly.
He sat on the bed beside Hermione's shaking form. Without a word, he put his hand on her shoulder. He nodded for Lavender and Parvati to leave, which they did with surprisingly little protest. He had no doubt that the two were both waiting at the door.
In a whisper, he began to speak, trying to comfort his friend. "It's okay, 'Mione. Everything's going to be all right," he murmured again and again.
"How could he, Ron? How could he? He LEFT us!" The hysterical voice that spoke sounded nothing like Hermione's. "He's gone. Gone!" With that, the shaking figure began to sob.
Rob didn't try to reply, try to answer the same questions that had nagged at him since Harry's death, just pulled Hermione up to sitting from behind. He spun her around and pulled her into his arms. She fell, crying hysterically, into his arms, her head resting on Ron's shoulder as she sobbed.
Ron just held Hermione close, kissing her hair and rubbing her back, trying to comfort his remaining best friend. As badly as Ron had been coping with everything, Hermione was visibly suffering more. Her hair had never been especially neat and straight, but now it looked like it had been run over by a train. Her intelligent brown eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying for days straight, and framed by bags almost as big as the ones under Ron's eyes. She did not even bother to put on her glasses, instead leaving them on her nightstand. Ron glanced over at her spectacles, and they were slightly dusty. She hadn't touched them in a few days, which meant she hadn't gotten out of bed for just as long.
"Why, Ron? Why?" she sobbed softly, as her shaking slowly improved.
He just shook his head and held her close. "I dunno, 'Mione. I dunno. It must have been the Dursleys. They were always rotten to him."
"Why didn't we notice? Why didn't we see what was happening, try to help him?"
Ron just shook his head again. He swallowed twice before he could speak, and his voice was hollow. "He gave me Hedwig early in the summer, told me to keep her until we met in September. I should have known then. I just thought the Dursleys had a problem with the owl. Then I wasn't surprised when I didn't get any letters from him, because he had no way to send them. I should have sent Hedwig back once a week, for him to keep talking with me. I should have DONE something."
"Don't blame yourself, Ron," Hermione replied. "It's my fault too. If I had tried to do something, write him a muggle letter, even. I would have known then."
"Why didn't we try to get him out the house earlier. I should have taken him for the whole year."
Hermione just shook her head, looking up for the first time, her sobs even dying down. "Dumbledore told you not to. He was doing what was best."
"And now Harry's dead!" Ron snarled, showing real emotion for the first time since the funeral. "That's who's fault it is. It's Dumbledore's!"
Hermione just looked at him, dumbfounded, really seeing him for the first time since he had walked in. She dusted off her glasses on her shirt and put them on, studying her friend closely as she began to speak. "Ron," she whispered, touching her hand to his cheek, "don't place blame. Harry is dead. It does not matter how or why, because that won't bring him back. Please, Ron. Dumbledore was protecting Harry from You-Know-Who. How much more would it have hurt if HE had gotten to Harry, not the Dursleys? You saw Avada Kedavra last year, the spider just fell over, it wasn't in pain at all." She continued, gulping for air, for courage. "Harry isn't in pain anymore. He doesn't have to worry about the Dursleys, or You-Know-Who, or his parents. He's with his parents now, and Cedric."
As she spoke, Ron's vision blurred. After a moment, it was he, not Hermione, who was shaking and crying. For the first time since the funeral, Ron let himself cry. With a soft moan of pain, of mourning, he and Hermione held each other close. "I miss him," he whispered.
"So do I," murmured Hermione softly, holding Ron in her arms, comforting him like a little child. "So do I."
They had reason to worry. Ron was thinner than he used to be. He never moved unless he had to anymore. He hardly spoke unless asked a question, and always answered as briefly as he could. His eyes had sparkled once, but now they were dull, weighed down by the bags under his eyes. No one saw him crying after the funeral, but no one saw him laughing either. Even Fred and George could not make him smile anymore, and that was a bad sign. Not that the twins were coping well themselves. There were noticeably less pranks these days.
Ron sighed. She wasn't in the common room. But her friends were, he thought to himself. "Lavender, where's Hermione?" She and Parvati shared a room with her, so they should know. "She didn't come down for breakfast."
"Did you try the library?" asked Parvati. Ron really isn't looking well, she thought.
Ron nodded dully. "I tried there first."
Lavender just looked at Ron, wondering to herself, not for the first time, what Harry's death had done to them all. "I think she is still in bed."
"Can you get her for me?" Lavender started to shake her head. "Lavender, please. She needs to get out of bed." She was still shaking her head. "All right, if you won't try to get her up, can you take me in there?"
Parvati was shocked. "Boys aren't allowed in the girls dormitory!"
"I know that! But we all KNOW what they're trying to prevent, and 'Mione and I wouldn't do that."
Lavender and Parvati just looked at each other for a moment, and then they looked at Ron. "Alright, we'll both take you." Lavender said with a sigh.
The two girls quietly escorted Ron to the girls dormitory. "This is it," Parvati said quietly. "I'll wait out here with Ron, and Lavender, go make sure she's awake and dressed."
Parvati stood nervously in the corridor with Ron while Lavender went into the bedroom the girls shared. Ron could here voices from the room, but he could not understand what they were saying.
After a minute or two, Lavender poked her head out hesitantly. "Hermione doesn't want you to come in."
Through the partially open door, Ron could see Hermione. She had her back to him, lying on the bed. He could see her shaking from the hallway. "That's nice," Ron said with a sigh. Then he stepped around Parvati, who was trying to stand between him and the door, and pushed the door the rest of the way open. Deftly dodging Lavender, he walked into the room softly.
He sat on the bed beside Hermione's shaking form. Without a word, he put his hand on her shoulder. He nodded for Lavender and Parvati to leave, which they did with surprisingly little protest. He had no doubt that the two were both waiting at the door.
In a whisper, he began to speak, trying to comfort his friend. "It's okay, 'Mione. Everything's going to be all right," he murmured again and again.
"How could he, Ron? How could he? He LEFT us!" The hysterical voice that spoke sounded nothing like Hermione's. "He's gone. Gone!" With that, the shaking figure began to sob.
Rob didn't try to reply, try to answer the same questions that had nagged at him since Harry's death, just pulled Hermione up to sitting from behind. He spun her around and pulled her into his arms. She fell, crying hysterically, into his arms, her head resting on Ron's shoulder as she sobbed.
Ron just held Hermione close, kissing her hair and rubbing her back, trying to comfort his remaining best friend. As badly as Ron had been coping with everything, Hermione was visibly suffering more. Her hair had never been especially neat and straight, but now it looked like it had been run over by a train. Her intelligent brown eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying for days straight, and framed by bags almost as big as the ones under Ron's eyes. She did not even bother to put on her glasses, instead leaving them on her nightstand. Ron glanced over at her spectacles, and they were slightly dusty. She hadn't touched them in a few days, which meant she hadn't gotten out of bed for just as long.
"Why, Ron? Why?" she sobbed softly, as her shaking slowly improved.
He just shook his head and held her close. "I dunno, 'Mione. I dunno. It must have been the Dursleys. They were always rotten to him."
"Why didn't we notice? Why didn't we see what was happening, try to help him?"
Ron just shook his head again. He swallowed twice before he could speak, and his voice was hollow. "He gave me Hedwig early in the summer, told me to keep her until we met in September. I should have known then. I just thought the Dursleys had a problem with the owl. Then I wasn't surprised when I didn't get any letters from him, because he had no way to send them. I should have sent Hedwig back once a week, for him to keep talking with me. I should have DONE something."
"Don't blame yourself, Ron," Hermione replied. "It's my fault too. If I had tried to do something, write him a muggle letter, even. I would have known then."
"Why didn't we try to get him out the house earlier. I should have taken him for the whole year."
Hermione just shook her head, looking up for the first time, her sobs even dying down. "Dumbledore told you not to. He was doing what was best."
"And now Harry's dead!" Ron snarled, showing real emotion for the first time since the funeral. "That's who's fault it is. It's Dumbledore's!"
Hermione just looked at him, dumbfounded, really seeing him for the first time since he had walked in. She dusted off her glasses on her shirt and put them on, studying her friend closely as she began to speak. "Ron," she whispered, touching her hand to his cheek, "don't place blame. Harry is dead. It does not matter how or why, because that won't bring him back. Please, Ron. Dumbledore was protecting Harry from You-Know-Who. How much more would it have hurt if HE had gotten to Harry, not the Dursleys? You saw Avada Kedavra last year, the spider just fell over, it wasn't in pain at all." She continued, gulping for air, for courage. "Harry isn't in pain anymore. He doesn't have to worry about the Dursleys, or You-Know-Who, or his parents. He's with his parents now, and Cedric."
As she spoke, Ron's vision blurred. After a moment, it was he, not Hermione, who was shaking and crying. For the first time since the funeral, Ron let himself cry. With a soft moan of pain, of mourning, he and Hermione held each other close. "I miss him," he whispered.
"So do I," murmured Hermione softly, holding Ron in her arms, comforting him like a little child. "So do I."