Unexpected Thoughts
Chapter 8
Warning: This chapter contains some pretty heavy stuff. As a result, the rating has been changed to "R." Just thought you all should know.
Harry waited for hours for a message from Hermione. Hours turned into days and days into weeks, and Harry couldn't begin to think where he could contact her, except to find a Muggle phone... and who knew where he could find one of those? He hadn't heard anything from her since that last day at The Three Broomsticks, and Dumbledore was of no help at all. He simply told Harry that there must have been a reason that Hermione didn't tell him what had happened and that he "certainly wasn't going to meddle by talking about it."
«.:.:.:.»
Harry and Ron were eating dinner one night in the Great Hall when Ron mentioned, "Y'know, Harry, there's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. You should go."
Harry snorted. "Sure, I'll go with my multitude of friends. Oh, wait... okay, I'll just go with you and Luna. That won't even be remotely awkward."
Ron shrugged. "You don't have to come with us. I just think you could use a butterbeer or something is all."
Harry sighed. Ron may seem indifferent now, but if he didn't agree, hoo boy... Well, let's just say there was no way he was going to get out of it. "All right, mate, I'll go seeing as your happiness is based on it. "
Ron grinned. "Haha, yessss! Finally Harry comes out of his cave."
«.:.:.:.»
"Luna, I win."
"What, Ronald?"
"I win the bet. Harry said he'd go this weekend."
"Oh, blast. Fine, take your Galleon already."
«.:.:.:.»
Harry sat at the bar in The Three Broomsticks, a butterbeer on the counter and his forehead in his hand. "How did I let Ron convince me to do this?" he muttered to himself.
"What's that, dear?" Madame Rosmerta cheerfully asked. "Oh, if you'll excuse me, that's the phone."
Harry sat straight up immediately. Did she just say phone? Yes! He could hear it ringing! He waited for her to finish and then asked, "Er... Madame Rosmerta? Is that a telephone, by any chance?"
"Yes, it is... I've got Muggle parents and this is how I keep in touch with them. Why do you ask?"
"Well," Harry said, blushing slightly, "I've got this friend who I've wanted to talk to for a while, and I was looking for a phone to see if I could-"
"Oh, certainly you can use it, Harry! Here, you can just take it into the back room."
Harry babbled his thanks and then carried the phone into the back room before pulling out the note from Hermione. Now rather nervous, he dialed her cell phone number. It rang once... twice... five times, and then the message machine picked up, leaving Harry smiling at the sound of Hermione's voice and grinning brilliantly when the machine told him her home phone number. He quickly memorized it and then left a message before hanging up and dialing Hermione at home.
«.:.:.:.»
Hermione Granger slid into her bathtub, leaned back, and closed her eyes. This past month had been one that she was hoping she would eventually forget. It had been hell, and this was one of the only times that she had been able to relax. Her parents were gone out to dinner (Lord knows they deserved it) and she was home by herself. She was close to falling asleep when, all of a sudden, the phone rang. "Oh, blast," she muttered to herself. "I'll let the machine get it."
The phone rang and rang until the answering machine picked up. Hermione wasn't really listening until she heard a voice that she hadn't heard for a month.
"Hey, Hermione, it's Harry... I was just calling to er, well... to see how you were doing, seeing as you left so quickly and all..."
Hermione shrieked and lunged out of the bathtub, wrapped herself in a towel, all the while yelling, "Wait, Harry, DON'T HANG UP!" and made it to the telephone in record speed, just as Harry was finishing up.
"So... well, don't call me back or anything seeing as this isn't my phone or anything, but... just... um, I guess I'll try later. See you."
She grabbed the phone. "Harry? HARRY?" There was silence at the other end. "Oh, shit," she muttered to herself and was about to hang up when she heard something at the other end of the line.
"Hermione? Hermione, are you there?"
"HARRY!!!"
"HERMIONE!!!"
"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad to hear from you, and I'm sorry that I left, and that I didn't say anything, but it was hard, you know? And I'm probably going to get back to Hogwarts within the week and I've missed you so much, and I have so much to tell you, but can you wait just a second, cause I literally just leapt out of the tub, and all I've got on is a towel, so let me go get dressed."
Harry pushed away the mental image and tried to comprehend everything that she had been saying. After he figured it all out, Hermione came back on the line.
"All right, Harry, I'm back. Sorry about that."
"It's all right... hey, Hermione... what did happen?"
Hermione swallowed, and took a deep breath. She was going to have to say it sometime... Now was a good enough time, wasn't it?
"Well... I... my best Muggle friend from grade school- she lived a few houses down from me- she... she committed suicide. I came back to comfort her family and mine... and her boyfriend, who I was also very close to... well, they were incredibly close, I mean, everyone thought that they were going to marry, and the day after the funeral... he killed himself too." She couldn't hold it in any more and broke down crying. "When I found out," she sniffed, "I honestly didn't know what to do. Nobody had any idea, and I couldn't help thinking, what if I never went to Hogwarts? Maybe things would be different, you know? Maybe she wouldn't have... I mean, what would you do if Ron and I both... you know...?"
Harry, close to tears at this point, inhaled sharply, and said, "Hermione, don't even think about blaming yourself for this. It isn't your fault. It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. Do you understand me?" He paused for a moment. "And to answer your question... no, I don't really know what I would do. I just..."
Hermione sniffled. "It's all right, Harry, I understand. You know," she continued softly, "I've missed you immensely. My first thought after I found out was 'What'll Harry think?'" She smiled.
Their conversations continued on for hours, and, before Harry realized it, it was time for him to head back to Hogwarts. "Damn it, I have to go, Hermione. When will you be back here? I miss you," he added, without even realizing it.
Smiling, Hermione replied, "I should be back in about a week. I'm sure Dumbledore will let you know."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, sure. I spent about an hour trying to convince him to tell me why you had left... he didn't. I don't think I can get this out of him either. Anyways, I've got to get back. I lo- I'll see you in a week." Man, he had almost said 'I love you.' Where had that come from?
"All right, Harry, I'll see you then. Bye!"
"Bye." Harry hung up the phone, smiling immensely. He walked outside to the emptying Three Broomsticks, and thanked Madame Rosmerta immensely before handing her a couple of Galleons. "I'm sure I've racked your phone bill up beyond belief," he said, smiling, and left.
«.:.:.:.»
Harry was having the most pleasant dream... he and Hermione had graduated from Hogwarts and had two of the most beautiful children he had ever seen... and then things switched. He was back at the Department of Mysteries but this time he wasn't Harry... he was Bellatrix Lestrange, and he was battling Sirius Black. He sent a killing spell his way, and it missed. Sirius laughed. "Is that the best you can do?" And then Harry grinned evilly and hit Sirius square in the chest. His dream shifted. Voldemort was talking to him. "You killed Sirius. It's all your fault that Sirius is dead, you insensitive idiot of a boy." Things shifted. He was Voldemort, and he had just hit Ron with Avada Kedavra. Then he turned... sneered... he hit Hermione.
Harry sat straight up in bed. "SHIT." That was one of the worst dreams that he had ever had, undoubtedly. He had had nightmares before... but he had never killed.
He crawled out of bed after grabbing his glasses and something from under the mattress and then stumbled to the prefect's lounge where he had first talked to Hermione about Sirius. Flopping down on the couch, he pulled out the thing that he had grabbed out from under his mattress... a razor. It gleamed in the moonlight, and he swallowed. It had been a very long time since he had done this... in fact, he had sworn to himself that he wasn't going to do it ever again... his mind was battling whether or not to do it. The emotional pain that his life was causing him... endangering all of his friends and what was his family... it was too much to handle.
He took the blade and ran it across the skin of his inner forearm. He felt the blood seep out, taking with it his emotional pain and all of his worries. Another cut, and another... cleaning the blood off of the couch and the floor, he walked into the boy's bathroom and wiped his cuts before collapsing onto his bed with exhaustion and guilt.
«.:.:.:.»
Author's Note: I LOVE ANGSTY!HARRY (: Anyways. This is some serious stuff, now, isn't it? I have to say I was planning on Hermione's mum having breast cancer but everyone guessed it so I changed it. That's the great thing about writing these things the day before you do them. And... er... I didn't have time to reread this but here it is. Don't hate me for what I've done to Harry. Also, I promise there's a PLOT coming soon! Whee!
Review! –toy surprises-
Oh, LucyInTheSkyWithDiamonds7: Just to let you know, you're not alone in your mad fan-worshipping of The OC. Best. Show. Ever.