Disclaimer: None of the characters here belong to me, I am making no money off of this.
Spoilers: OotP
Warning: N/A
Rating: PG
Summary: A short scene from the end of Order of the Phoenix. Harry wasn't the only one affected by Sirius' death. Ron and Hermione deal with their feelings. Ficlet.
Special thanks to my beta, for cleaning it up for me. :-)
A Moment of Comfort
I've got to say, this has been the worst few days I can remember. And that's saying a lot, cause there have been a *lot* of bad days lately, but this has got to be the worst. The worst thing is, I want to be there for Harry, but I've got the feeling he doesn't *want* anyone there for him. I mean, we all know what happened, but he hasn't said one damn word about it.
I'm not going to push him. I hate to sound like an insensitive bastard, but he's not the only one who's hurting right now. Hermione's a bloody mess. I can't stand it when girls cry, but I want to do something for somebody other then just sit on my damn hands and wait.
She's crying right now. really softly though-like she's trying not to. It's now or never, really. I sigh, shove my hands in my pockets, and cross the Common Room. It's just her and me, now.
"Here." I hand her a handkerchief. She looks up at me like I've got antlers coming out of my head all of a sudden. She just sort of blinks, looking from the hanky to me.
"Thank you." She takes it, and she wipes at her eyes, and I can see her trying really hard to get control of herself. I sit down on the arm of the chair she's in. I don't know what to say, I mean, I feel like shit too. We all do, but death makes me uncomfortable. I mean, I've always been sort of creeped out by death in general. When death hits really close to home-I just sort of freeze up and stop functioning right.
"I just can't *believe* it!" She finally says, blowing her nose.
"Yeah." None of us can. "Stuff like this...it takes a while to sink in."
"I really wish he'd talk about it..."
"He's not gonna." I shake my head. "He never talked about Cedric, he's sure as hell not going to talk about Sirius."
"It isn't fair." She continues. "It just isn't fair!"
"Yeah." So I'm not the best conversationalist. But I know what she means. It really isn't fair at all. I'm not a religious person, but I've always believed in *something*. But it's hard to think there'd be any higher power that would let a guy be wrongly imprisoned for thirteen years, live two more in hiding, and then die without *anything*. He's never going to see his name cleared, now.
"How can...?" She looks up at me, and I hate seeing her eyes like that, all big and watery. It's not natural.
"I don't know." I shake my head, and I put a hand on her shoulder. I'm not good at comforting.
"And....I just....oh Ron, he was so *happy*!"
"Er...." I'm not sure if I'd say he was happy. But it would probably make her worse to say that he was miserable. There were some good points, yeah. Christmas he *did* seem happy. But...
Honestly, his life was piss. And that's what's the worst thing about it all, what makes him dying ten times worse then it could have been. He was a good person, and he had a horrible life, and then he died.
It's not like I mean that someone who's had a good life doesn't deserve to be mourned and all of that, but...well, some situations are just way worse then others. This is one of them. He *was* a good person-a damn good person.
I really got to know him, over the summer, Hermione, too. I don't think Harry realizes that.
"I just hate this."
I look down at her, and I nod. It's awful, and it hurts, and we both know it's gonna happen again. This is war. A real war. People die in wars.
"It'll be okay."
She reaches up and she squeezes my hand. It's probably the stupidest thing I could possibly say, but it's all there is. Stupid, empty words that really don't mean much of anything. But it looks like it's making her feel better. And that's all I'm going for, really.
"I know." She says, sighing. At least she's stopped crying now. I sort of scoot her over, and sit down next t her. I put an arm around her shoulders, and that's kind of a bad idea. She leans into me, and she starts crying all over again. It's a wickedly awkward situation for me.
"Hey...it's okay, it really is." I tell her, and I hold her as best I can. The position's really weird, and I can't get my arms around her comfortably. I'm pretty glad we're alone down here. She's scared, I think. So am I. This is ridiculous. We've spent so much time here at school, being scared for our lives. It's not right, but it isn't like we can change anything. We just have to deal with it. and from what I've seen, we deal with it pretty damn well.
Up until now.
"God Ron, I'm so sorry..." She pulls away, and she wipes her eyes,
"Hey, it's fine. You're upset." I tell her, and I don't know what comes over me. I reach up, and I wipe her eyes with my finger. She get's really quiet all of a sudden, and she's looking down at her hands. I swallow hard. I sort of want to kiss her, and that's the weirdest thought I've had all day. She's a mess, she's in mourning, she's crying in my arms, and I want to kiss her.
"I didn't mean to get...all...over you." She waves her hand, and that strange moment is starting to fade.
"Well, feel free to do it whenever you need to." She needs somebody. We all need somebody. I *really* want to kiss her. But she'd probably hit me, or laugh at me. I'm still touching her face. I take my hand away, quick like. She looks up at me, and I hate her eyes, I hate the sadness in them.
I'm an idiot. I lean in, and I kiss her. And she doesn't really do anything, so I guess I'm not in any trouble. I don't push my luck though. I just press my lips against hers, leave them there for a minute, and pull back. As far as kisses go, it was probably unremarkable. But I thought it felt pretty damn good.
She looks down at her hands when I pull away. They're folded in her lap now. I don't know what to say. I can't tell if I messed up, or if I did the right thing.
"Thank you." She says very quietly. I don't know if she's thanking me for the kiss, or for sitting with her while she cried. I'm thinking it's the second one.
"It's no problem."
We're both talking quietly now. She's not going to say anything about the kiss, so I'm not either. I'm glad it happened though. I hate *how* and *why* it happened, but it actually happening....that was good.
"We should probably head down for dinner." She says, into her lap.
"That'd probably be a good idea." I agree with her. Whatever's happening between us, now's not the time to talk about it. I don't know when it *will* be time, but...oh well. That's how life happens, I guess. We stand up, and she starts walking off. But she looks over her shoulder, and I think she's going to say something. But she just gives me this sad little smile, instead. I give her one right back., and follow her down to dinner.
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