Disclaimer: I own nothing you may recognise in any of my fics. I simply borrow the odd character and play with them a little.
Not Alone Anymore - Silence.
Harry stood outside a dark green door with the brass-number 58 nailed on at eye level. He'd been standing in this same spot for the past 10 minutes and so far, a family of four had descended down a set of stairs that he assumed lead to the next floor up, walked around him, given him an odd look for being stood there like the idiot he felt, and descended the set of stairs that led to the next floor down.
A young blonde had stepped out of the green door with the brass-number 59 behind him. He'd turned around, startled and smiled slightly when he saw her. The blonde had smiled brightly back at him, not bothering to disguise the fact that her eyes were practically devouring him. Harry had raised an eyebrow at her attitude and turned back to number 58. He'd felt the blonde's eyes on his back for the better part of two minutes before she finally gave up and went down the stairs.
So now here he was, 10 minutes after he'd arrived and still not moving.
It was a Saturday evening and he'd set out from Hogwarts at half past 6. After being assured by numerous parties that Lily would be 'completely' safe there without him - not that he doubted Hogwarts safety. He was stalling. He knew it, they knew it. Hell, even Lily knew it, though none chose to comment.
He'd left, gone to Hogsmeade, apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and gone out into muggle London. The address that Charlie had given him was in one of the many apartment buildings. Finding the place was easy; he just dragged it out longer than needs had to be. Finding the correct door was simple. It was the knocking and entering that had him stalled.
It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friend. Because he did. He honestly and truly did. It was the look in Molly's eyes when he'd mentioned Hermione's name that sent shivers down his spine and made him not want to hear whatever Ron had to say. He'd been constantly asking himself what could have possibly happened to her.
He'd killed Voldemort and left. Apparated from the battle-field and never looked back. He'd not thought to check on his friends. Could there have been an accident? Could a Deatheater have attacked her? God he hoped not. He now regretted more than ever not looking back. Ron, he knew, would never forgive him for not at least checking they were all fine before leaving. He would never forgive himself for being so selfish.
He clenched his right hand into a fist and took two steps towards number 58.
Another thing was bothering him. Why would Ron even contemplate living in a muggle area, let alone a muggle-infested apartment building? He was confused. It was officially official. Confusion was quickly becoming his second middle name. Right after nervous. He was not looking forward to this conversation at all.
Before he thought better of it, he rapt quickly upon the space just below the brass 58. He was half tempted to apparate out of there as quickly as he possibly could, but something made him stay rooted to his spot. He wrapped his arms around himself. Not necessarily to keep out the cold, but in a vain attempt to keep out any and all confrontations in the near future.
Whatever news he was about to receive, something deep inside him told him… the look Molly had in her eyes told him… the looks on all the Weasley's faces told him that he would not like it, whatever it was.
But he wasn't running away anymore. He needed this sorted out. He needed his best friends back.
There was the sound of a door handle being turned and he turned his gaze to where he knew Ron's head would be. It took seemingly forever for the door to open and reveal the man that was once his most trusted friend.
When the green barrier was finally pulled back, Harry saw the first boy he'd ever made friends with… only now, that boy was very much a man.
Ron had heard the knock at the door and growled in frustration. He was working of paperwork, he didn't need interruptions. He threw down his quill and rose from the chair at his desk. He then worked his way through his apartment until he was stood before the door. Something, he couldn't put a finger on it exactly, but something was telling him what was about to happen would prove important to him in the long haul.
So he opened the door.
And there he was.
"Ron." Harry said quietly. His arms were still wrapped around himself but his eyes were locked with the redhead's. Blue eyes narrowed.
"How did you get this address?" Ron snarled, but Harry didn't back down from the gaze.
"Ron, we need to talk." The werewolf tried again.
"Who?" Ron repeated and his 'former'-friend sighed.
"Charlie." Came the answer. "They all reckon we need to talk." He explained and the man inside the apartment raised an eyebrow.
"You're here because 'they' think we need to talk?" he asked sarcastically.
"You know damn well I didn't!" Harry snapped. "I came here because I've missed you, you prat. I came here because we 'do' need to talk! I came here because no one else would tell me where the fuck my other best friend is!" His voice was increasing in volume with every statement and a few heads popped out of doors down the hall, frowning at the noise. Both Harry and Ron showed them each the 'finger'.
"Why didn't you come earlier? Say, five years earlier!" Ron fumed, ears reddening with anger.
"I couldn't Ron. I had to leave. I couldn't stay a moment longer." Harry ran his hand down his face and sighed. "You have to understand Ron-"
"NO!" the redhead yelled. "I don't have to understand anything! All I have to understand is that when you got your job done, you left. You were out of there and never once looked back. LITERALLY!" At the last exclamation, Harry frowned in confusion.
"I didn't look back Ron, I know I didn't-" he didn't get further as Ron cut him off.
"NO! Behind you. I saw you facing Voldemort, and behind you… Hermione was duelling a Deatheater." His voice lowered in volume and a far away look washed over his face. "You had just killed him when the Deatheater put her under the Cruciatus. The battle was so loud, that one scream couldn't be singled out. But…" He looked up at Harry with tears in his eyes. "She was right behind you." He whispered. "You were stood staring at Voldemort's body while she screamed and writhed around on the ground behind you."
"And then I apparated out." Harry finished for Ron. Horror, regret, sorrow, guilt, remorse… they were all present in his eyes at that moment. Tears streamed down his face as realisation hit him like a 2ton anvil reacting to gravity from a 100ft height.
"She's been in St.Mungo's ever since."
Without saying another word to Ron, Harry turned around slowly and began to walk away from his once-best friend. The first step he descended nearly sent him flying but he just managed to keep his balance. The rest of the steps were easier but he had the overwhelming urge to launch himself down all five flights with every one he stepped down.
When he reached the ground floor his eyes travelled to the pigeon holes of all the residents in the building. After checking no one was around, he conjured a letter in an envelope that was addressed to Ron. On the letter inside the envelope were two simple words.
'I'm Sorry.'
He tucked the letter inside the pigeon hole for number 58 and left the building. As he walked down the path, he could feel the burning gaze of emotional blue eyes on his back from what would be Ron's 5th floor apartment window. But he didn't look back.
He made his way slowly to St.Mungo's.
##
When he arrived at the wizarding hospital, he was instantly recognized. Almost anyone who saw him tried to speak with him, but he ignored all questions, comments and other forms of speech and made a beeline for the front desk.
The witch behind the desk looked at him and Harry remembered her as Padma Patil, the Ravenclaw half of the Patil twins. She seemed to know why he was here and wrote something down on a piece of parchment, guessing correctly that he didn't want to speak or be spoken to at the moment.
She handed him the slip of parchment and he looked down at it. He read it silently.
'Fourth Floor - Spell Damage.
The cubicle next to Frank Longbottom.
Tell her I miss her.
P.Patil- reception.'
He looked up from the note and graced Padma with the slightest of smiles. He nodded his goodbye and made his way towards the lift. But as he approached it he noticed the throng of bodies waiting to step onto it so he took the stair route.
Pushing open the door that had the sign 'Stairs' on it at eye level, he stepped through and began his climb to the fourth floor.
As he stepped onto the landing he took a deep breath. He did not want a repeat of his short trip here in his fifth year. He didn't come here to see Lockhart, Alice and Frank Longbottom… he was here for Hermione. No distractions. So taking one last deep breath, he pushed open the door to the ward that went by the title "Spell Damage".
As soon as he entered, he was cornered by a nurse.
"Visiting hours ended at 6pm Mr…" the nurse glanced up at him from the clipboard she was holding and gasped. Not at the scar on his forehead, nor his 'very' public face. No, she gasped at the level of pain in his dull and lifeless green eyes. He handed the note Padma gave him to the nurse and after a swift skim over the contents, she showed him quickly into the ward where his friend was being kept.
Not once did she speak. And for that sheer level of understanding, he was eternally thankful.
She led him into the same was he'd ventured into back in fifth year with his friends. They arrived at the ward and the nurse left him at the door. He took the first steps onto the carpeted floor and started when the door closed with a 'snap'. He turned to look at the wards patients and noticed that Lockhart was no longer there. For this small thing, he was unbelievably thankful.
He walked down the centre isle and noticed that Alice Longbottom was asleep on her bed. Her husband was in the next bed shuffling some wrappers of small chocolates around on the tray at the end of his bed. He looked up to see Harry staring back at him. And in that one single second, Harry swore he could see the true Frank Longbottom looking at him with thanks and appreciation. Why Frank would look at him like that, he was unsure, but Harry smiled and nodded his head at Neville's father before the elder Longbottom went back to shuffling papers.
Harry walked down to the next cubicle and stopped at the foot of the bed.
Hermione lay there on the bed with her wrists and ankles restrained. Her hair had grown longer and less bushy than he remembered. She started out of her nap as Harry started walking around and down the right of her bed. She looked at him with curiosity but he couldn't see Hermione. Not her soul.
And it killed him inside to see her like this.
He reached out to run a hand over her brow and the simple touch broke down all his defences. His knees gave way underneath him and he dropped to the floor with his hand still resting on her forehead. And then, he cried.
He cried for Hermione. He cried for not being able to sense her need. He cried because he was too selfish to realise she was behind him, screaming in agony. He cried for not being here. He cried for Ron.
He cried for the pain. He'd take all the pain she suffered and multiply it tenfold only if it would bring her back. But it couldn't be done, and he knew it. So he cried.
He didn't know how long he'd been on the floor beside her bed but the next time he made movement, was when someone was lifting him up. No, two people were lifting him to his feet. He felt the intruders begin to lead him away but he shrugged them off and leaned heavily on Hermione's bed.
He traced a hand over her cheek and found it damp. She'd cried too.
He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her forehead before moving so his lips were poised over her ear. He then whispered at a volume only Hermione should have heard.
"I love you 'Mione." He said. "I'm so sorry." He kissed her once more on the cheek and stood up straight. Turning around, he saw Sirius and James stood there with sad expressions. He looked between them both, took one step forward and threw himself in Sirius' arms. And there, he cried himself to sleep.
Yes. I apologise for the wait but my brain has been over heating dammit! . Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Only one or a possible 'two' chapters left of this fic. Review!!
Thank you!