A/N: Thank you for the two of you that reviewed! Appreciated it very much. Not very much longer to go, maybe a chapter or two, not too sure yet. Enjoy.
Chapter Eleven: Tea and a Total lack of Sympathy
Harry opened his eyes slowly as he heard Ron followed Hermione into the bathroom. He raisedhis head slightly to overhear the sound of running water in the next room.
"Are you expecting me to shave him?" Ron asked as he watched Hermione rinse a razor blade in the sink.
"No, I can do it," Hermione answered briskly as she stirred the shaving cream in the brass cup.
"You? Why Hermione, that's only something a barber can do," he told her, "It's very difficult to shave someone else."
"I've always shaved him." Hermione turned off the faucet. With everything she needs in hand, she headed back over to Harry's bedside.
After spreading a sheet around Harry's neck, Hermione scooped a small amount of cream on the brush and methodically applied it on his chin and around his mouth. Ron looked on curiously.
"That barber's just ruined his skin," Hermione observed as she rubbed the cream into Harry's face.
"More...moreIwannashinnneee," Harry mumbled incoherently.
"He thinks he's in a barbershop," she explained to Ron casually. Holding Harry's head to one side, Hermione gently scraped the stubble with the razor.
Out of nowhere, Harry reached out his hand towards Ron. Hermione was too concentrated on the razor to notice.
"Look," Ron pointed to Harry's hand, "He's lifting his hand."
Hermione looked over quickly before resuming her task, "He thinks he wants a manicure," she told him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Wha-umm-What should I do?" he asked.
"Well, maybe we better humor him," she instructed, "Hold it."
Ron hesitated before grabbing onto Harry's hand. "You think we're doing the right thing?" he asked, feeling awkward by the minute.
"Yes, we mustn't do anything to shock him," Hermione said sagely.
Ron continued to observe Hermione's meticulousness as she scraped under Harry's nose.
"He thinks I'm a manicurist, doesn't he?" he chuckled at the thought.
"Uh huh"
Suddenly, Ron felt a slight pressure on his hand. He stared at Harry, whose eyes remained closed, "He's squeezing my hand!"
"In a few minutes he'll ask you for your phone number," Hermione told him with a sigh, "Can you get me his lotion from the bathroom?"
Ron walked into the bathroom to retrieve the lotion. He stopped at the sink, taking his time to think about everything he's witnessed during the past two days.
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Satisfied with a job well done on a clean-shaven Harry, Hermione and Ron went back into their own cabin to let him rest.
A worried look was still cast on her face as she walked inside.
"Sit down, Hermione," Ron said in a serious tone of voice. She took a seat on the couch quietly, looking away. Ron stood over her head beside the couch, "You know, a woman can't control herself entirely by her head, which is probably why we love you," he sighed, "Now you and Harry have had three years together, and whether you realize it or not, there is a bond between you, and it's not easily broken."
Hermione turned to look at him with an unconvincing smile, "People get divorced." Even her own words made flinch. She avoided his gaze.
"Now it's true that I think you're better off with me," he continued, "But then, I'm prejudice. My first wish is to see you happy, and it's possible, it's more than possible, that as peculiar as Harry is, you still couldn't be happy without him."
Ron walked around the couch and sat down beside her. "I tell you what I like you to do. You take back your promise to marry me, and think about it for a few days. If you find that you can't go on without Harry, well, you know I'll wish you every happiness in the world."
Hermione looked at him with an honest beam. She squeezed his hand gently, "That's very kind of you." She was grateful to Ron for understanding.
"Don't you think we should see how he's getting along?" she asked.
"We'll only wake him up," Ron replied.
"I'll just go see if he's still asleep, I'll look through the window." Outside, Hermione tiptoed carefully over to Harry's cabin and peered through the window. Her face of genuine consideration drastically changes to a seething glare as she watched Harry gleefully helping himself to a chocolate frog.
Feeling so incredibly stupid for falling for one of Harry's sympathy routines. She quietly crept back to her cabin. From the outside, she slammed the door loud enough for Harry to hear.
Sure enough, upon hearing the noise, Harry hastily tossed the chocolate frog under the bed, got under the covers, and resumed his pathetic position in bed.
Hermione, fuming, entered Harry's bedroom. She grabbed the closest thing around her, which happened to be the teapot on the table and hurled it against the wall above the bed. Harry instinctively pulled the blanket over his head as ceramic shattered all over the place and tea dripping all around him.
She marched over to his bed. Harry gulpped, and with the most pathetic weak voice he could muster, he uttered, "I will never forget you in that blue dress."
"BLUE DRESS! YOU'VE BEEN FOUND OUT! YOU BEAST!" she screamed, "I should've known you being in here was all too convenient."
"Now look here Hermione-" Harry said as he propped up from the bed.
"Big sympathy act, coming up here and pretending you're out of it!" she cried.
"But I love you Mione!" he yelled desperately.
"Listen to me Harry, you get up and get out of here! I never want to lay eyes on you again! You're just making a nuisance out of yourself!"
Harry took the opportunity to hastily seize hold of her wrists.
"Get your hands for me!" she struggled within his grasp.
"Hermione, I don't care what you say; I know you're still in love with me!" Harry told her.
"And I know you're still crazy!" she said stubbornly.
"We belong to each other!" Harry declared, still holding onto her, "You couldn't have anything to do with Ron!"
"That's what you think!" she replied, glaring at him.
"Let me tell you something Mione," his voice passionate, "You couldn't let him lay a hand on you. I know you, not after what we've been through together!"
"He's going to lay a hand on me, and we're going to get married!" Hermione finally managed to fling Harry's grasp off of her.
Harry looked at her now in complete shock. She spun around and started to leave.
"Okay," Harry called out to her, in a defeated state, "If that's the way you feel about it, I won't stand in your way."
Hermione stopped at the door to listen.
"I've been thrown out of my own home, threatened by cops, chased around in taxicabs, and neglected my job. And only because I loved you and wanted you back again. Now I'm finished. I'm all washed up. Go ahead and marry him. I hope you'll be very happy."
A hint of sympathy almost surfaced on Hermione's face. Without a word, she left the room.
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Ron had been sitting on the couch in their cabin when Hermione entered through the door.
"Well, you've heard." Hermione said.
Ron merely nodded.
She started to pace angrily about the room, working off some of her rage, "He liked me in that blue dress robe," she muttered. Pacing over to Ron, she asked, "Ron, will you marry me?" Without even stopping to hear the answer, she continued to pace about the room shuffling her feet.
"Why, I'd be honored Mione," he said, "Do you think it's wise to make a decision in anger?"
"Even at a time like this you can still be considerate of him?" she squeaked out.
"Your happiness is my only concern," he replied.
"Oh, I'm not good enough for you Ron," Hermione said. "Why, you'd be making me the happiest man in the world," Ron remarked, "I know, why don't we go have a nice dinner and take your mind off of your troubles?"
"Yes," Hermione sighed.
The two of them walked silently together out the door. As they passed Harry's cabin, they can overhear a conversation he was having with someone at the lodge via the floo powder network.
"What's the first train I can get back to London? 10:30? Get a carriage half an hour before up here then. Thank you."