Disclaimer: See previous page. And did you know that Rowling is richer than
the Queen of England?? I RENEW MY CLAIM TO HER MONEY!!!! No fair; I could
have written Harry Potter!! .I just didn't have the idea at the time.
A/N: Damnation. There's like a hundred and twenty people on the waiting list for HP5 at the library, and I dun really want to wait that long; it'll probably take several months for me to get it and read it, sorry.
Hermione:
I woke up this morning-afternoon-at about 2:36. 2:36!!!! It's Saturday, though, so it wasn't too big of a deal. Everybody said they thought I was in the library!
When I ran into Ron, though, he just shook his head sympathetically and said, "You want to talk for a while?"
I nodded. "Where?"
"Library?"
"Sure," I said, following him to the library and sitting down across from him at a table. "Did you have anything in particular you wanted to talk about?"
Ron looked about as uncomfortable as I felt. "Well.kinda."
He paused and in the ensuing silence, I asked, "What? About me and Harry, right? About me and you, too, and about you and him."
Ron gaped at me. "How'd you know?"
"It's been eating at me," I replied. "I really wanted to talk about it, too."
He looked relieved. "Um. So, er, what did happen between you? And why didn't you tell me?"
I swallowed hard, blinking profusely, and began my story.
Ron:
I talked to Hermione today. Not just ran-into-her-in-the-hallway-and-said-a- few-words-about-Harry-and-how-she-shouldn't-be-so-upset-because-she-still- has-me talking, though, real talking.
It started with ran-into-her-in-the-hallway-and-said-a-few-words-about- Harry-and-how-she-shouldn't-be-so-upset-because-she-still-has-me talking, but it got to be real.
We talked about Harry, remembered Harry, her love for Harry grew, and my friendship with both of them shrank.
"There was really nothing between us," she said desperately, reaching for one of my hands.
I jerked away from her and stood up.
"Ron," she pleaded, eyes glittering with unshed tears, "be reasonable! Harry and I were closer than you and me, but we never did anything! We knew it would hurt you, and that's why we didn't tell you! He loved you like a brother, and so did I, but he was something more. Listen to me, please!"
"I listened!" I exploded. "I listened, and I understand!"
"So you forgive us? We really didn't want to hurt you," she reached out to me with her eyes, which were still filled with tears.
"I couldn't forgive you if I wanted to," I spat, turning on my heel and storming out of the library.
I left her there all alone. I left her there, and she was sobbing. What kind of monster have I become?
Harry:
I saw the whole thing, and it was so hard to not be able to reach out to my Hermione, to comfort her.
It must hurt her, too. She must feel deserted, abandoned. She only had us, and now I'm dead, and Ron hates her. He hates me, too, for that matter, but I really shouldn't care. Should I?
A/N: Damnation. There's like a hundred and twenty people on the waiting list for HP5 at the library, and I dun really want to wait that long; it'll probably take several months for me to get it and read it, sorry.
Hermione:
I woke up this morning-afternoon-at about 2:36. 2:36!!!! It's Saturday, though, so it wasn't too big of a deal. Everybody said they thought I was in the library!
When I ran into Ron, though, he just shook his head sympathetically and said, "You want to talk for a while?"
I nodded. "Where?"
"Library?"
"Sure," I said, following him to the library and sitting down across from him at a table. "Did you have anything in particular you wanted to talk about?"
Ron looked about as uncomfortable as I felt. "Well.kinda."
He paused and in the ensuing silence, I asked, "What? About me and Harry, right? About me and you, too, and about you and him."
Ron gaped at me. "How'd you know?"
"It's been eating at me," I replied. "I really wanted to talk about it, too."
He looked relieved. "Um. So, er, what did happen between you? And why didn't you tell me?"
I swallowed hard, blinking profusely, and began my story.
Ron:
I talked to Hermione today. Not just ran-into-her-in-the-hallway-and-said-a- few-words-about-Harry-and-how-she-shouldn't-be-so-upset-because-she-still- has-me talking, though, real talking.
It started with ran-into-her-in-the-hallway-and-said-a-few-words-about- Harry-and-how-she-shouldn't-be-so-upset-because-she-still-has-me talking, but it got to be real.
We talked about Harry, remembered Harry, her love for Harry grew, and my friendship with both of them shrank.
"There was really nothing between us," she said desperately, reaching for one of my hands.
I jerked away from her and stood up.
"Ron," she pleaded, eyes glittering with unshed tears, "be reasonable! Harry and I were closer than you and me, but we never did anything! We knew it would hurt you, and that's why we didn't tell you! He loved you like a brother, and so did I, but he was something more. Listen to me, please!"
"I listened!" I exploded. "I listened, and I understand!"
"So you forgive us? We really didn't want to hurt you," she reached out to me with her eyes, which were still filled with tears.
"I couldn't forgive you if I wanted to," I spat, turning on my heel and storming out of the library.
I left her there all alone. I left her there, and she was sobbing. What kind of monster have I become?
Harry:
I saw the whole thing, and it was so hard to not be able to reach out to my Hermione, to comfort her.
It must hurt her, too. She must feel deserted, abandoned. She only had us, and now I'm dead, and Ron hates her. He hates me, too, for that matter, but I really shouldn't care. Should I?
