It was in the beginning of fall, and in the dark of the October night the rain fell from a black sky. The clouds were as grey as steel, and with the rain rattling against the windows of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, its inhabitants felt warm and cosy – or, almost everyone did.
Very well. Here we go again, Ronald Weasley thought and leaned back in his armchair. All over again. How does he manage?
Ron was sitting by the fire, feeling very warm, and all he wanted was that Harry would stop talking. He had a splendid headache and that one didn't get any better just because Harry sat there talking his heart out.
I do like him, Ron thought, but sometimes he's just too much.
It was in the middle of the night, and the only reason they still sat here was because of the fire. The rain outside made Ron feel cold, and the rain made him feel warm – so why on earth should he move?
"Am I not right, Ron?" Harry suddenly said, and looked at him, swooping his untidy black hair from his face. Ron looked back at him, startled.
"Eh… yeah, of course, Harry, you're right." Harry frowned.
"You aren't listening to me," he said, sounding hurt.
"Well, mate…" Ron started, but Harry went on.
"Do you think I'm boring, Ron?" Ron sat up in his chair, anger flooding him.
"Yes, I'm sorry to tell you this, Harry, but you are getting very annoying, and I can't stand to hear this all over again. Not for the nine hundred and ninety ninth time! I simply can't!"
Harry stared at him for a moment. Ron felt ashamed, but also glad that he had said what he thought.
"For the nine hundred and ninety ninth time?" Harry said weakly. "Have I really told you… " He fell silent.
"Yeah, Harry, you have!" Ron said angrily. "Don't think that I don't support you, I'm totally on your side, not on You-know-who's, but please…!" He stopped, stood up, then continued:
"Look, I was there last year, I know that Sirius promised this and promised that, and I also know that he died while protecting you. I have heard it over and over again; how you and Hermione did that and did this, and that Dumbledore turned up and fought You-know-who and that you saved Neville and Ginny and also -" here he stopped for a second to breathe, "I also now everything about you regretting that you never talked to Sirius more when he was alive. All right? I know all that stuff, and please, don't go over it one more time!"
"But…" Harry began.
"We're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. I don't want to be angry at you, but for once, Harry, put down that heroic 'thing' you have and be normal!"
"Normal?"
"Well, as normal as you can be, being a wizard, mate." Harry frowned.
"That was…" Harry fell silent.
"The truth? Good for you to hear?"
"Rough," Harry finished. Ron gave him a weak smile.
"Well…. Sorry, mate, but sometimes the rough things are those you need to hear." He sighed. "All right. You know what? Tomorrow we'll go to the Three Broomsticks and drink butterbeer. Does that sound okay?" Harry nodded and got to his feet, ran a hand through his hair and looked away from Ron. His green eyes still showed pain. Ron sighed to himself, but knew that he had to leave Harry alone now.
"Good night, mate", he said and jumped to his feet. "I'll go to bed."
"Yeah….. I'll come in a minute…" Harry answered, his voice sounding somewhat distant. Ron nodded.
"I'm sorry, Harry. But you needed to hear it."
"Yeah." Ron went to bed and left Harry alone in the common room.
Harry sighed deeply and fell to his knees in front of the fire. The fire rattled, and the only thing Harry really wanted was to get the heavy feeling of agony off his chest. It felt like a Dementor stood behind him, sucking out all the happiness of his life. He reached out a hand towards the fire, and longed to see Sirius's face there among the flames. Suddenly, in a flash of memory, he saw Umbridge's hand there. He withdrew his own hand, breathing heavily. The pain and sorrow hit him like a bolt of lightning. He made a strange muffled sound, something between a sob and a yell. All of a sudden, the portrait hole swung open and Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, climbed into the common room.
"Harry!" she said, sounding surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Trying to avoid your brother", he answered.
"Why?" she said, coming closer and sat herself down in one of the armchairs.
"Because he found it for the best to yell at me and say that I was a fool." Ginny grinned.
"Well, Harry, you've been acting a bit strange lately. But yelling at you… He was upset, I suppose?"
"You could say that." Ginny grinned broadly.
"I'm not surprised, to tell you the truth. Honestly Harry, my brother isn't the most balanced person I know."
"Me neither."
"No, but you can admit it. He can't." A long silence followed.
It was Harry who broke the silence. "Do you think that I should let it go?"
"Sirius?" He nodded.
"I don't know, Harry… I mean, you loved him, didn't you? It's no fault in remembering the ones you love, living or dead – but you have to keep it down a little. Your sorrow is so fresh, Harry, and we all feel the same – and that's why the most of us can't stand the thought of all your memories of him, because then we're forced to think of our own memories, and then we fall down in that depression again, the one we've fought so much to overcome." She smiled melancholy.
"I loved him too, Harry, and we all did. It's just that… Ron isn't so good at showing feelings. And he doesn't know how to handle his own sorrow, and especially not yours." She got to her feet, fell on her knees and hugged him tightly. He hung on to her as if he was drowning.
"Gin, I – "
"Don't." She smiled. "I know, Harry." She kissed him on the cheek, got to her feet again and walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
When Harry walked up the stairs to his own dormitory, he saw Crookhanks, Hermione's ginger cat, and picked him up in his arms.
"Hello, Crookhanks", he mumbled and stroke the cat's fur. "What are you doing up?"
A sudden sound made him look up. He saw Hermione stand on the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes were red.
"Oh", she said when she saw him. "You caught Crookhanks." He nodded silently.
"I'll take him", she said, sniffling. Harry let go of Crookhanks and asked her:
"Have you been crying?" She avoided his eyes.
"No", she lied. "I just… well, I don't feel so good." Harry came closer to her and embraced her. With a hiccough she started to cry. She rested her head on his shoulder, crying hard.
"Hermione…" he mumbled. "Don't cry."
"I don't really know why I'm crying", she admitted a few minutes later, tears still coming down her cheeks. "I just talked to Ginny, I met her in the corridor, and… well… oh Harry!" And she burst out into tears again. Harry felt a bit uncomfortable, but didn't say anything.
"I came to think about… if you had been the one dying, Harry…" Hermione hiccoughed into his shirt, "and I couldn't stand the thought of it… You and Ron mean the world to me, Harry…."
"And you mean the world to us too", Harry whispered. "Hermione, please. You're tired. Why don't you take Crookhanks with you and go up to bed again, aye? What you need is a good night's sleep." She nodded. He kissed her on her forehead, and then took a step backwards.
"Sleep tight, Hermione", he said, and saw her walk slowly up the stairs. He turned around and walked up the stairs to his own dormitory. He wasn't going to have much sleep this night either.