~ All There Ever Was ~
Author: Bachy A
E-Mail: screenwriter7@msn.com
Website: www.remnant-archive.0catch.com
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter...neither do I own J.K. Rowling. I don't own Warner Brothers – basically, I own nothing even closely related to Harry Potter. This story is meant to be pure fiction created by me using the characters of this series.
SPOILERS: None! Yay!
WARNINGS: Some cursing.
UPDATES: Things are a little interesting now, eh? On we go (BTW, I'm soooo SORRY that it's been so long. School has really kicked my butt).
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Chapter 5: Goodbye Again
Ron sat in the darkness, his mind swirling with activity. Sleep would not find him this night...even if he had desired to fall into slumber, it wouldn't work.
Pain...memories of a life lived so long ago...seeing Hermione like that, seeing what just a glimpse of Harry had done to her...
It burned his blood with anger.
Somewhere, long ago, this would not have been a concern to him, or rather, a concern to just him. It would have been something that at least two thirds of their team would have dealt with. If something were happening to Hermione, he and Harry would deal with it...so it had been for so very long.
That had been the way of things, the way of the world. But no longer.
He sat there, the pain and sadness left from so many years gone by slowing stewing inside him. His eyes lay in the recesses of his head, slightly glazed over, the cares and concerns of the physical world passing him by.
And every so often, in the soup of thoughts that ran through his troubled mind, he would see him. He was always standing there, that smug, mocking look on his face, as if the world he had constructed around those who had once loved him was every bit in his control.
A small hiccup of oppressed anger escaped Ron's lips. It was that face...his face...that had brought him back into reality. And now, as each moment passed, it was all that ran past his eyes.
Control...everything had been under control. And yet, it had taken only one instant to shatter all that...
Later on, he would look back and wonder what possessed him to do what he had been about to do. But at that moment in time, all that seemed to drive his mind was Harry's face, and all the hatred associated with the sight of it.
He wouldn't remember standing up from where he was crouched...he wouldn't remember grabbing his cloak...we wouldn't remember much of what he did that night.
But that didn't matter. Not at that particular moment.
Without a glance back, Ron disappeared with a small pop, knowing as he apparated that this would change things forever.
* * *
Walking back into the Ministry restaurant, Ron had meant to march up to Harry, grab him by the scruff of his shirt and throw him throw the nearest window he could find.
He brushed past waitpersons and traipsed up to the table where Harry had been sitting only hours earlier.
Nothing. There was no one there.
Anger flaring in his face, he stomped over to one of the witches who was clearing tables.
"Where is the guy that was sitting over there, a couple of hours ago?" he asked, his anger apparent in his voice.
The waitresses' initial shock at this man's abruptness morphed into excitement when she realized whom he was talking about.
"Ooohh, you mean Harry Pot..."
An extremely sharp glance silenced her.
"Just tell me where he went."
She trembled a bit as her arm came up, pointing outside. He pressed for more than just that.
"H-he left, m-m-maybe an ho-hour ago..."
Without any warning, Ron spun around and marched to the door. He was out there.
And now, it was time to confront him.
* * *
Stepping out into the darkened streets, Ron realized that he hadn't a clue as to which way Harry had gone. He turned angrily...turned again...and AGAIN...
There were at least 4 different routes Harry could have taken. And Ron didn't have the time or the patience to go through them all.
A sharp cracking sound, like glass being thrown against a wall, brought Ron's attention to an alleyway off to his left. Carefully, but still with a sense of urgency, he ran to the passage and peered down its darkened corridor.
There...there...
A dark shape was stumbling down the alley, clearly inebriated. Every now and then, it would crash into trash bins and make large amounts of noise...but it kept walking.
In an instant, Ron knew that it was Harry.
Anger returning to his face, Ron charged forward, all his strength going towards propelling him forward.
And before he could realize, Harry was right there. Ron grabbed the back of his black cloak and threw him against the bricks that comprised the alleyway's walls. With no sound forthcoming, Harry's body limply fell to the ground
"You...bastard..." Ron growled.
For a moment, the dark form failed to move. Then, ever so slowly, it crawled onto its knees.
"Well, well, well..."
It struck Ron hard to hear that voice so...transformed. It was Harry's, but it no longer held the familiarity that it once did.
That realization created another burst of anger deep with in Ron's chest. Bending down, he lifted Harry up into the air, his adrenaline giving him all the strength he would need.
As he slammed Harry against the wall, Ron got the first real look at Harry's face that he had had in years.
A dark scar ran down the length of Harry's face, starting just above his right eyebrow and ending at his chin.
Harry's eyes, which had once been a bright emerald green, were now a gray the shade of storm clouds.
Everything about him...everything that had once connected him with the life they had lived so long ago...it was all gone.
Pulling himself out of his reverie, Ron shook Harry, slamming him once again into the wall.
But once again, before he could say anything, Harry let out a low growl.
"What's the matter? Can't think of anything to say? Going to settle for trashing me?"
Ron opened his mouth...but no sound came out.
He was right – Harry was right.
Snarling, Ron lifted Harry again, this time throwing him into a pair of trash barrels that had been left.
Stepping over his groaning body, Ron glared down and his former friend.
"You had better stay away from her," Ron said, his voice presenting a courage that was beginning to crack. "I don't know how the hell you are still working for this Ministry...how they would allow that...but you mark my words: if you hurt her again, you will die. Do you understand me?"
Nothing. Harry's body lay there, unmoving.
Furious, Ron hoisted Harry up again.
"I said, do you understand me?!"
Once again, nothing. Gray eyes stared back, defiant to the last.
For the final time, Ron threw Harry across the path. His body landed roughly on
the pavement.
It was then that the emotion in Ron suddenly drained. For just a moment, his eyes glazed, and he remembered a time, long ago, when he and Harry had fought over the happenings of a certain tournament that had been held at Hogwarts.
Long ago...so long ago...
And then, as quickly as it had arrived, it had gone. All that was left was him, standing there, watching the pain-wracked body of his friend.
Quickly, without another word, he turned and left, the alleyway giving him no comfort.
* * *
Harry watched Ron leave, watched him walk away.
Lying there, he began to feel. The clouds in his mind parted, just for a second, and in that instant, he could see his pain, his hurt. It hurt him to no end...
Even more than the thought of what Ron had just done to him, it hurt Harry terribly to think of Hermione, and what he had done to her.
What he was still doing to her...
And, just before the darkness came back to envelope him, Harry Potter lay there, in that alleyway, tears streaming because of all that happened, and because of the endless wondering if it was ever going to end...
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A/N: WOW! I'm back! Sorry, as always, that it has been so long. I can't seem to keep my promises. Sufficed to say, I plan to spend a little more time around her, acclimating myself again.
For now, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to hear from all of you soon.