Invisible Scars
To my amazing reviewers,
I have to take a moment here. I apologize in advance for the delay. I was having an absolutely horrible day. The kind where all you can do is think about your couch, your favorite book or t.v. show and good take-out all day long as the clock moves backwards instead of forwards. Where you doubt if you are doing anything constructive with the life you've chosen to lead. Then I became even more moody when I realized that usually, on a day like this, I would talk to Nick, my friend, my mentor, about how I felt and he would listen intently while I spouted off, then sit back, his glasses askew and look at me like I was crazy. Then he'd tell me I had a great life and to get over myself. I missed that, and him, very much today.
Then I read your reviews. At work. And there was a bright spot that actually made me feel that the world didn't completely suck.
Thank you, all, for giving my ego the boost it needed to realize maybe I'm actually doing a little bit of creative goodness in my life. I know it's only fanfiction; a made-up story about people that don't really exist. All the same, your wonderful and heartfelt encouragement made me feel important in the grand scheme of things for one shining moment, and I have to say, it's totally worth it. Today, by the end of the day, I didn't seem so…small…in the world.
I have no possible way to thank you for that, except to say it.
Thank you, more than you know.
Okay, enough of that stuff. Let's get going, shall we?
Chapter 4 – They're Only Words
Harry had figured by the time he reached Ginny's door he would know what to say. He had spent the entire short trip up the stairs going over all the things he could say to Ginny that would make things alright for both of them. He knew why he was doing what he was doing, and if she needed to know, then he would be prepared to answer her.
He stood in front of the solid oak, staring at it blankly.
Just knock, he persuaded himself. Just lift your fist…
Minute two stretched into minute three with infinite slowness. His hand raised, then dropped, then raised again. His bag slipped off his shoulder onto the floor with a soft thud that went completely undetected by his addled brain. Why couldn't he just knock on the stupid door?
He leaned his forehead against it in frustration, cursing himself over and over again. He could face unmentionable evils and do it without a conscious thought, but he couldn't bring himself to convince the girl who invaded his every thought that they shouldn't be together.
Harry sighed, expelling the breath from his lungs as if he could purge all the conflicting thoughts from his body. His body tensed with the motion, causing him to stumble unflatteringly into Ginny's room when the door was yanked open a split second later.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise as he struggled to right himself before taking a nose-dive into the carpet. She threw out a hand to keep him from falling. "I thought I heard something," she said, laughing at his own surprised expression.
The situation was already miles off from what he'd imagined. His eyes found Ginny, who had taken an instinctive step toward him and then froze where she stood, her expression a mixture of his own confusion and genuine amusement.
She raised an eyebrow at him, and his chest constricted tightly. What was it he had come up here to discuss?
"How have you been?" Hermione asked, pulling him in for a quick hug. He hugged her back, noticing that she looked a bit different than he remembered her. When they broke apart, he got a better look at her and realized that she did look different. She looked relaxed and happy, and he grinned at her. His two best friends getting together looked like it agreed with both of them.
"I'm fine," he said, his eyes swinging back to Ginny, who was now studying him with her practiced eye. He was used to it by now, though, and gave her a reassuring smile. "Really," he added. "How are you guys?"
Hermione shrugged noncommittally, but Harry could tell she was bursting to explain just how fine she was.
Ginny also shrugged, but hers cut him to the quick, the tightness in his chest increasing in its intensity.
"Fair," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "This wedding nonsense is taking over the house, though. You've been warned."
Hermione laughed quickly, looking slightly uncomfortable, and Harry knew why. The tension was mounting slowly in the room, rising up around them filled with all the things that were going unsaid.
Harry forced himself to laugh as well, but it was the last thing he felt like doing. What he really wanted to do was grab Ginny and kiss her the way he'd been dreaming of kissing her after being apart from her all summer.
Ginny met his gaze evenly, and he knew that she knew exactly what he was thinking. She always seemed to know. The thought was so comforting and so unnerving at the same time that Harry suddenly felt incredibly overwhelmed.
Hermione sprang to life then, crossing the room to grab a box that was shoved in the corner. "Well, I better bring this up to the attic. Your mum said she'd be checking our progress in about an hour, and we still have to get to the twins' old room." She gave Harry a pointed look, then turned to Ginny. "I'll get their room in order if you finish up in here."
Ginny gave her a small smile, which Hermione returned quickly before hustling out the door. Harry watched her go in silence, dreading the moment he'd have to turn back to the red-head across the room. He knew that the second he did, he wouldn't be able to deny what he really wanted.
"Are you really okay?" Ginny asked, her voice breaking the silence of Hermione's absence in the room. The question was soft and sure, and he couldn't resist her for one more second.
He faced her bravely, taking in the concern etched in her beautiful features and cursed himself again for having put it there.
"It depends on your definition of okay," he said, taking a step toward her.
She kept her gaze even with his. He took another step toward her, only wanting to hold her and feel her bury her forehead against his neck as she used to.
"I'm sorry this is so…weird," he said, realizing that he truly meant it. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel awkward or unsure around him. She was the most important thing in his life, the only one who gave him any kind of reprieve or rest. The only one who, by simply being herself, allowed him to see what it was he wanted out of his life; laughter, affection…happiness.
"I know," she said, dropping her arms to her sides and sighing softly. "I'm sorry, too."
Somehow, they had moved across the floor toward each other, close enough to touch each other if they simply reached out.
Neither moved.
"I've missed you," he said, looking down at his trainers. "I thought about you all summer."
"Me too," she admitted grudgingly. "Although my thoughts were about how many hexes I wanted to hurl at your stubborn head."
Harry looked up quickly and caught the teasing look on her face. "I'm kidding, of course," she said, then smiled. "Well, maybe only half kidding."
He laughed, and it felt good. She had done it again. She'd taken his darkness and made him forget about it, if only for a moment. "I understand."
Her eyes grew serious as she considered him. "I'm going to need you to be patient with me," she said. "I know all the facts, I know all the reasons. I even understand them, to a certain extent. But you need to know that part of me doesn't want to understand, because that means I can't be with you." Her eyes began to shine, and her gaze tried to waver from his.
He couldn't let it. He knew all the facts, all the reasons. He even understood them, to a certain extent. But a part of him didn't want to understand, either, and that part made hold onto her gaze and take one more step toward her.
She sighed again, this time in quiet resignation. She stepped up to him and put her arms around him and buried her head against the crook of his neck. "Please tell me this will get easier," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
"I don't think there's much of a chance of that," Harry said, stroking her hair gently as he held her as close as he could.
"Damn," she said softly, pulling away from him enough to see his face. "Promise me something, then."
"Anything."
"Whatever happens, whatever decisions need to be made, neither of us will forget that when it is all said and done, we care about each other," she said, her voice impressively even and calm. Harry wished he felt half of that right now, facing her, wanting nothing more than to chuck the whole thing and stay with her until someone told him to go away.
"Promise," he said quietly. She smiled then, and it was his undoing. Their eyes were holding each other's steadily, saying all that needed to be said. Her eyes grew bright again and she focused them on his mouth. Before he knew it, his head inclined toward hers and he gently captured her lips under his.
Her hands came around to rest against his chest. She leaned into him as she always had, with complete trust and equal intensity, becoming his match in every way. They took their time with each other, perhaps knowing that this might be the last time they could be together like this. This was their own goodbye of sorts, to things that might have been between them.
The kiss increased in its intensity, and all of Harry's excuses and explanations began crashing down around him. He broke the kiss before he changed his mind about everything he thought he believed in, and felt her bury her head against him once again.
How would things be between them now? Could he seek her out just to hear her voice over the next few days, or would it be more fair to keep his distance and not complicate things? Could he laugh around her and share funny moments? Could he tell her about how scared he was to go off on his own and how much he missed Dumbledore?
As if reading his thoughts, she inclined her head up to his and met his gaze. The look in her eyes reassured him without a single word.
Hermione descended the stairs leadingfrom the attic and paused at the landing. She spared a glance down the main staircase, then turned to the twins' room. Unsure of what to do next she simply stood in the middle of the hallway, considering her hesitation.
Cowardice is more like it, she harshly admitted to herself as she turned the knob to the bedroom. She had never been happier and here she was, inexplicably embarrassed to face Ron again so soon after their kiss.
She entered the room and found it cluttered with small messes. Sighing heavily, she tried to convince herself that she was only doing the responsible thing. The room needed to be ready for guests and it wouldn't get done if she was off with Ron, picking up where they had left off. Her cheeks flushed in the privacy of the room, for which she was grateful, but she willed it away quickly and set about her work.
As she flicked her wand to set a pile of clothes in a spare box, she thought of what things would be like between them for the next few days. She wondered if they would act more like boyfriend and girlfriend than best friends, or the other way around. Knowing them, they would carve out their own definition of things, and the thought made her smile.
Their 'relationship' was definitely one of a kind.
There was a light rapping on the open door, and she turned to see Ron leaning against the doorframe.
"I was wondering where you got off to," he said, entering the room and looking at the slight progress she had made. "Need any help?"
She couldn't help but smile at him as he busied himself about a pile of spellbooks and parchments on the desk. Now that he was here, in front of her, she didn't know why she'd ever doubted going to him in the first place.
"I thought you might've come downstairs when Harry came up," he said, swishing the books into another box on the floor. "Didn't realize you'd be up to your ears in this destruction."
"Your mum wanted the rooms ready by tonight," she replied. "It was on her 'list of things to do.'"
Ron groaned, and rolled his eyes. "Ah, the list. Would you tell on me if I burned it in the fireplace?"
She laughed at him as she sank onto the corner of the nearest bed. "Not if you don't tell on me for taking a break." Ron finished folding the box around the spellbooks and sat on the other bed, facing her.
"Deal," he said, leaning back on his hands. "So, was it weird when they saw each other?" he asked, nodding his head toward the door.
Hermione sighed again, smiling ruefully. "I didn't stick around long enough to find out. The air was so thick I couldn't breathe."
Ron looked thoughtfully at a spot on the floor. "You think they'll be okay around each other this week? I mean, it will be awful for everyone if they can't even look at each other, much less stay in the same room."
Hermione considered him carefully. She could see his conflicting roles warring within him. He was Ginny's big brother, but he was Harry's best mate. If they couldn't be around each other without it being awkward and chose to keep their distance, would she and Ron have to split their time between them? The thought was so awful that she tried to push it as far out of her mind as she could. When Harry and Ginny had started hanging out together, Hermione had felt as if they were oddly complete. Now, things were on the verge of splitting apart if they let it.
"We'll just have to take our cue from them," she said finally, not knowing any other way to approach it. Suddenly, she didn't want to think of Harry and Ginny any longer. She realized it made her a terrible friend, but she wanted to focus on her own romance for a while. She figured she had earned at least that much.
"Do you want to put this off for a bit and go for a walk?" she asked, and was surprised by the amused look on his face. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said, coming off the bed and reaching down for her hand. "I think a walk is a brilliant idea."
She grabbed his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. She looked at him suspiciously, knowing that in that boy brain of his, he was thinking of a private place to take her to continue their previous…pastime.
"You're thinking you're getting another kiss, don't you?" she asked, her mouth twitching mischievously. He waggled his eyebrows at her, which caused her to burst out laughing. "You're impossible, you know that?"
He nudged her with his elbow as they walked out the door. "Is that another one of my best qualities?" he said impishly, earning himself a not so gentle shove in return.
They laughed as they descended the stairs, neither realizing that their hands had found their way into each other's until Mrs. Weasley came around the corner of the kitchen and looked up at them. Their hands fell away from each other's quickly, and Hermione felt her cheeks flush brilliantly against her will.
"Where are you two off to?" she asked, wiping her hands on a towel. "Are the rooms all finished?"
"Uh, no Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, her voice sounding odd to her own ears. "We just needed a bit of a break. We were, ah…"
"We wanted to let Ginny and Harry have some time together to talk," Ron piped up quickly. His mother nodded absently, smiling, then the smile slowly faded as a look of motherly concern crossed her face as she looked up the stairs as if she could see into the room from where she stood.
"They're up there alone?" Mrs. Weasley said, still wiping her hands, unnecessarily by now, on the dishtowel.
Ron looked surprised by his mother's reaction, and stepped off the stairs to reassure her. "No, it's okay," he said, pulling the towel out of her twisting hands. "They've broken up, so they really are just talking."
Hermione groaned under her breath. Leave it to Ron to expose all of Ginny's business to their mother without even knowing he did it. She saw Mrs. Weasley's look of concern deepen, although now she was most likely simply concerned for her daughter.
"Why did they break up?" she asked, looking between Ron and Hermione for answers.
"Ah, well, I don't rightly…" Ron fumbled, looking to Hermione for help. Hermione shook her head with a warning look in her eyes. She was staying out of this, and tried to convey with her look that he should as well.
Luckily, he appeared to know exactly what she meant. "Mum, I really think that's their business," he said, his voice not as sure as he probably wanted it to sound.
To her credit, Mrs. Weasley didn't push the issue, and even forgot about reminding them to continue their cleaning. "Oh, by the way, a letter arrived for you," she said absently, reaching into her apron pocket and pulling out a long, thin envelope.
Hermione stared at it curiously, not able to help wondering if it was from any ex-girlfriends he had. She caught sight of the address as Mrs. Weasley handed it to Ron.
Mister Ronald Weasley. Well, she certainly hoped Lavendar wouldn't address him as such. That would just be strange.
Ron's look mirrored her own curiosity, and once his mother had moved past them to the back room, he opened the letter. His eyes slid over the pages, growing wider and wider as he read. He was at it so long that Hermione's curiosity was well past its limit.
"What is it?" she asked, concerned now because he was flipping the last piece of parchment over and over as if looking for some secret compartment.
"Come outside with me?" he asked, nodding his head toward the door.
She nodded, leading the way outside. They crossed unconsciously to the tree they'd sat under earlier that day, and Hermione watched as he flopped onto the ground, all the while re-reading bits of the letter.
"Ron, for pity's sake, what does it say?" she asked. He shook his head and handed her the letter. She snatched it from him and set about reading the letter that had him looking so shaken up.
Mister Weasley,
You'll have to forgive me for contacting you without proper introductions, but I feel there is no time for pleasantries. Please accept that what I will discuss with you is of utmost importance, and I am assured that you will use this information in the way you best see fit.
It has come to my attention that you are friends with Harry Potter. I believe there is another, Miss Hermione Granger, whom I am confident will be appraised of the situation by yourself at an appropriate time.
I came to hear about Mr. Potter and your various adventures from a source which I cannot presently disclose. However, I do believe we share several acquaintances. I had a brother whom I understand was intimately connected with the Potter family. It is because of him that I write this letter. My brother was murdered by supporters of the very man who took my own life from me. I am still very much alive, but with nothing to show for a decent life. It is only recently that I learned of Dumbledore's passing, and it is with this concern foremost in my mind that I write this letter.
I have made it my mission – my lifelong pursuit – to assure that Voldemort and his Death Eaters fail in their quest. I once thought him gone, as did most of the wizarding world, and had to redouble my efforts upon learning of his resurrection. I have already begun to set certain things in motion to bring about his downfall, but I realize now that Mr. Potter and his friends are a necessary part of the equation.
It is in this strain that I offer my services. I am in possession of certain knowledge that will be useful to you and would like to share it as soon as possible. Of course, it will not be disclosed via owl post; therefore we must make contact another way. I will be in touch shortly with further information. I understand if you have reservations, as you should if you are the vigilant friend and confidante I believe you to be, but I must stress, my intentions are pure and just.
If you need proof of this, all I can say is that the truth can be found behind family, no matter how hard it may be to see.
My most sincere regards,
R.A.B.
Hermione dropped the letter to her lap, stunned beyond words. She turned to Ron, who nodded in agreement.
"I know," he said in an awed voice.
"R.A.B.," she repeated, her eyes skimming over the post-script. "Ron, if this person had a brother connected with Harry's parents…" she trailed off, her mind racing to connect the patterns.
Ron leaned back against the tree, his own mind working the problem. "B…B…who do we know with the last name –"
They came up with the answer at the same time, and they stared at each other with matching looks of disbelief.
"Black," Ron finished. "But that would mean…"
"Regulus. Sirius' brother," Hermione finished for him, scrunching her face in confusion. "I thought he was a known Death Eater, though," she said, rubbing at her temples. Suddenly, she had a very powerful headache.
Ron picked up the letter again, examining it as he had before. "I have absolutely no idea what to make of this," he admitted, looking tiredly out across the lawn.
They sat in silence for a minute, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione sighed then, taking the letter from him and folding it back into the envelope.
"We can show this to Harry after dinner," she said, making a quick decision. "If it is Sirius' brother, we have to decide whether we're going to trust this, but we can't do anything until he contacts us again anyway."
Ron nodded in agreement, and stretched his legs out in front of him. "I swear, this is not at all what I thought today would be like when I woke up this morning."
Hermione couldn't help but smile at his tone. "Me either," she said, putting her legs out next to his. Suddenly, the contact was of vital importance to her. It was real and it was true, and she didn't have to think too hard about how she felt about it.
He stared at the pairs of their trainers next to each other, then blindly reached over for her hand. Their fingers entwined securely, bringing another smile to her face. It amazed her that he read her so well sometimes.
"You know what I wish?" he asked, tracing slow patterns on top of her thumb with his own.
"What?" she asked, falling slowly into the haze of simply being allowed to be like this with him, finally, openly…well, at least behind the protection of the tree.
He smiled then, looking boyish for a brief moment. "I wish we had figured us out ages ago, because it doesn't look like we'll be getting all that much time to ourselves for a while," he said, a hint of regret in his eyes.
She laughed quietly, squeezing his hand. "Yeah, me too," she said, moving up closer against his side.
Ron turned to her then, and the intensity of his eyes stunned her for a moment. "I don't consider this less important than anything else," he said emphatically, gesturing between the two of them. "I just want you to know that. No matter what happens."
If he had said anything else – sweet words of flirtation or adoration – she probably wouldn't have believed him. But this…this she believed, simply because it was the way things were for them.
She reached for his cheek with her free hand and felt the muscle in his jaw work under her fingers. His eyes held hers, and she knew in that instant that the two of them would be just fine. They would figure out their own pace, their own path.
She leaned forward, placing her lips gently on his. Their hands remained clasped between them as they took this moment just for themselves and each other.
The rest would still be there when they decided to let it back in.
I have to say, I felt truly inspired when writing this. When I thought of all of you, I realized I had to upmy game to be worthy of you. So, did any of you think the same as me? When I read HBP I spent so much time turning over the letters RAB in my head, and this idea snuck in. Lots of goodies to come!