Chapter Eleven - Death of My Lover
AN: I feel so extremely happy that I'm getting reviews! Thank you everyone. A special thanks to Kaimei for their numerous reviews, and adding a bit of a smile to my face with the description "The Boy-Who-Lived being shagged into a wall by the Prince of Slytherin." I love it.
Also, thank you to JettHead, who, as they have stated before, doesn't exactly agree on the sexual orientation of the character, yet still adds me to their favourites and continues to review! Thank you! THANK YOU EVERYONE! It means the world to open my inbox and find out that people appreciate my work.
The cold winds whipped the already raw faces of the Hogwarts students trudging down the hill into Hogsmede for their holiday trip. The usual track of three sets of footprints were only two, and Harry and Ron found themselves, once again, Hermione-less. Harry had neglected, purposely, telling Ron what had happened. He felt awful enough having those lies spew from him once, he didn't need to relive it. Ron was unusually quiet that day, and Harry eyed him cautiously as they opened a heavy wooden door, the warmth from inside The Three Broomsticks smothering their frozen faces, thawing them enough so their fingers untwined from clenching their scarves over their mouths. Ron stared straight ahead, not noticing Harry's unbroken gaze. They two boys made their way to a small table in the corner of the room, and Harry watched, perplexed, as Ron sat, as stiff and silent as the dead, his eyes fixed on his hands, which were fumbling with his cloak clasp.
"Earth
to Ronald." Harry said loudly, and Ron looked up, his expression
shocked, as though he hadn't noticed he was sitting at a table with
someone. Harry sighed and pulled off his gloves. "What's with you
today?"
"I could ask the same of you." Ron said slowly, not
looking Harry in the eye. Harry wasn't aware that his actions were
giving off the aura of someone distressed. He merely sighed and
placed his chin into his hand.
"Have you seen Hermione lately?"
Ron asked, still not looking at Harry. Harry's stomach dropped at
the inevitable question. Hermione and Draco had not come on the trip
this time, and he was sure he knew why. The days after the incident
with Lucius left Harry high and dry, alone, and he received scathing
looks from both Hermione and Draco in the halls. "She was with him,
wasn't she?" Ron said the word him with such distain that
Harry had to look up. An ugly look spread across Ron's face. He
clenched his fists. "What does she see in him? What does anyone
see in him?"
"I don't think she feels for him, Ron.
He's not like that anyways." Harry said quietly, and Ron shot him
a stinging glance.
"Not like what?" his eyes went wide
suddenly, and Harry thought, for a moment, that he knew about Draco
and him. But Ron only shoved his hat back onto his fiery red head,
and stood up, knocking his chair back. Harry got up as well,
shocked.
"Ron?"
"I know. I finally know why. Why
she…and he…" Ron shook his head vigorously and flecks of water
that had melted from snowflakes flew from his earflaps, and Harry
squinted, the water spattering his glasses.
"Know WHAT Ron!"
Harry said again, but by that time, Ron was out the door into the
freezing winter wind again. Harry thought for a second to go after
him, but he only sat back at the table and ordered a butter beer.
Left to his own thoughts, Harry sunk into a daze, the soft clatter
around him lulling him into a day dream.
Hermione sat in a similar daze, her head resting in her hand, her elbow propped up on a library book. Her grades had slipped dramatically, and she was struggling with her Potions essay that was due tomorrow. She looked down at her watch and to the Library door. Draco was supposed to be meeting her, since neither of them wanted to go to Hogsmede. But it was half past 1 and he was yet to be seen. She decided to wait a bit longer, but after ten minutes decided she would go look for him herself. There were only a few places where he could be, which sounded odd considering the size of the castle. She closed her book, knowing she would probably never get back to her homework, and shoved her quill and parchment into her bag. She walked hurriedly out of the library in sear of her missing friend.
"You
alright, 'Arry?" a gruff voice and rougher hand shook Harry from
his daze, and he looked up to see Hagrid standing above him. He
stared up at him blearily, and realised his glasses her slightly
askew from being shaken awake. He fixed them and stood up, wiping the
melted snow off his neck.
"Yeah, Hagrid. Thanks."
"Yeh
sure? I jus' saw Ron runnin' up the steps t'the castle when I
left. Was yellin' something' about bein' like him? Like who,
Harry?" Hagrid wrung his hands and gave Harry a quizzical look from
beneath his bushy brow. Harry stood up wearily and threw his scarf
over his shoulder.
"I better go see to him," he gave Hagrid a
wry grin, "make sure he doesn't kill himself."
"Yeh,
righ'." Hargrid grinned back and clapped Harry on the shoulder
again. Harry, after recovering from his knees almost giving way under
the weight of Hagrid's hand, walked quickly out of the bar and into
the cold again. What could Ron be rambling on about now? He thought,
as he trudged up to the castle, alone.
Finally,
he got to the castle door, pushing it open. He just hoped that in his
search for Ron, he wouldn't run into,
"Draco…" Harry
stopped in his tracks, after seeing the young blond standing in the
middle of the foyer. Draco didn't even look at Harry. He was
staring at something else. Harry followed his gaze and saw that he
was watching Ron, who stood, in a stance to fight, his wand at the
ready. A small whimper from his right brought Harry's attention to
Hermione who stood in the stairwell, watching with wide eyes.
"What
the hell is your problem, Weasel?" Draco sneered, wrinkling his
nose at Ron. Ron's wand was trembling in his hand.
"You…I
won't let you take her. No, not you." Ron said, his voice quaking
like his hand. Hermione covered her face with her hands and squeaked.
Harry saw Draco's hand move to his pocket, but then remembered the
broken wand he had found in the dungeons. It must've been Draco's.
A flicker of fear flashed across Draco's face when he realised this
as well, but he continued to stare Ron down.
"What? Hermione?
And me?" Draco said in a steady, low voice, "Wrong, you stupid
git. If you had a brain in that ginger nob of yours, you'd know it
wasn't Hermione and me."
"What? But you…" Ron looked
from Hermione to Draco, and then a look of realisation came upon his
face. It turned paler than normal, and he turned to Harry, his eyes
wide. "you?" he said quietly.
"Unfortunately." Draco
growled. Harry winced at this and looked away from Ron. Ron lowered
his wand and Draco un-tensed.
"I don't believe you." Ron
said angrily, and turned to Hermione. "What is it you see in him?
What is it? Is it this, Hermione?" Ron rolled up his sleeve as
Hermione watched in horror.
"Ron, what are you-"
"Is
THIS WHAT YOU WANT, Hermione! WHAT CAN I DO?" Ron flicked his wand
and placed it onto the white skin on his forearm, slowly raking the
wand from the crook of his elbow to his wrist. Hermione gasped and
Draco watched in terror, his eyes wide. Harry couldn't move, he
could only watch as red blood spilled quickly from his best friend's
arm. Ron looked as though he was going to be sick, staring down at
the his now stained robes and arm. He turned a sickly green, and
dropped his wand. "Huh." he muttered, softly, before the pale
green turned to sheet white, and Ron's body fell limply to the
floor. Hermione rushed over to him and rolled him onto his
back.
"RON! RON NO! PLEASE NO, RON!" she pulled him close to
her by his robes, her fingers grabbing frantically, slipping on the
bloodied material. Draco seemed paralysed, and Harry finally got the
courage to move. But he merely stood over his friend's body,
staring down at his wide eyes, which were brimming with tears. And
there, in Hermione's arms, Harry watched his best friend die.
