Disclaimer: Harry Potter 'tis not mine!
A Few Moments
A Letter
'He glanced up just in time to see them exchanging a look that told him he was behaving just as they had feared he would. It did nothing to improve his temper.' -pg 63, OoTP.
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Hermione yawned as she gradually woke from a heavy night's sleep. She was surprised she had slept so well, considering it was only her third night in this disgusting, filthy, infested house that kept the heads of house elves mounted to a plaque, and it usually took her a prolonged period of time to adjust to new surroundings.
But then again, she thought drowsily as the sleep cleared from her head, It's not as if I spent all of yesterday sitting around, doing nothing.
That was remarkably true. Mrs Weasley had formed her own little housekeeping team, which compromised of herself, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, a pair of reluctant twins and an equally disgruntled Sirius Black. Just yesterday they had scrubbed the ancient kitchen until it was 'sparkling clean'. And even now it didn't sparkle. Hermione doubt it ever would, as it was caked in generations of grime and filth.
The scrubbing process had been paused temporarily when Ron found spider lookalike creatures under the stove.
Hermione and the others had kept an ear out for when members of the Order dropped by, but Ginny had informed her that they wouldn't be able to hear anything new until another meeting was called on. Meanwhile, chances of eavesdropping were slim, as Fred and George patched up the Extendable Ears. (Mrs Weasley was furious when she found out about them, and by the time she was through, the only Extendables left were some of the first and failed ones they had dumped in Ron's room.)
Hermione tiptoed past a sleeping Ginny and opened the door a crack. She hoped that odd house-elf wasn't up. Oh, she was still all for elfish rights, but that didn't stop her from thinking he was a nutter. She'd just never admit it, especially to Ron.
Ron.
She hadn't had the chance to talk to him properly. Upon her arrival, she was so exhausted from the long trip on the Knight Bus that she only had enough energy to say hi to everyone, eat lunch, watch the 'housekeepers' as they fought over sponges, eat dinner, be informed of the facts about the house, the Order and so on by Ginny, then sleep. It had been a terrible sleep, at that. The house was just so creepy.
Between all the commotion and work in the past three days, she and Ron had barely managed a conversation, and they needed to talk because they were best friends, and Hermione desperately needed to voice her fears about Harry, because she honestly thought he was going to go mad if they kept him cooped up in that horrible Muggle house with no outside information about You-Know-Who and the wizarding world.
That, and she had just plain missed him.
Since she was sharing a room with his younger sister, Hermione had been able to talk quite a bit with Ginny. She had tried telling her about her worries concerning Harry, but Ginny wasn't the same as Ron. Ginny tried to comfort and reassure Hermione that everything would be alright, which, while slightly helpful, was not exactly what Hermione wanted. She wanted someone to listen and agree with her, someone she knew would be worrying the same amount as her, someone she knew who had the same concerns.
And, of course, Ron fell into that category, because he was Ron, and he was Harry's best friend.
Hermione quietly shut the door and started to creak down the ancient stairs. She was armed with a quill and parchment, intending to write a letter to Harry, just to let him know that everything really was okay, and that they were all still there, and that they still cared for him.
It was still dark as she tiptoed into the empty kitchen. It was certainly an improvement from when she first saw it, but it still held a depressing gloom all around. Hermione sat herself at the table and pulled her dressing gown around her tighter. She laid her parchment in front of her and held her quill, poised, ready to write.
But what was she going to say? Dear Harry, everything's fine, we all love you. From Hermione?
Professor Dumbledore had warned them not to put anything critical in a letter, in case of interception. She had received a couple of letters, all not making much sense or not containing much detail, from Ron before she was moved to Grimmauld Place. She had felt rather frustrated at him before, but now she understood how hard it must've been.
Hermione stayed still for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out what to write.
What could she put into words something that was meaningful? What was something he would read and not snort in impatience and throw away?
For some reason, she felt a lump in her throat.
Don't be silly, you can't lose it now! she told herself furiously, He saw You-Know-Who return, he saw Cedric murdered, and he's still strong. You can't cry, Hermione Granger, it's not fair on anyone!
Hermione managed to blink away tears when she heard a voice behind her.
"Hermione?"
She jumped slightly and turned around, her heart pounding.
"Ron!" she exclaimed in her relief.
Ron was standing in the doorway, his hair dishevelled and his face more pale than usual so that his freckles were more pronounced. Even with this pathetic (but somewhat adorable) appearance he managed to look superiorly surprised as he raised an eyebrow.
Oops, maybe she shouldn't have sounded so... happy.
Seeing him look so smug gave Hermione a temptation to roll her eyes, and all hopes to have a talk with this awful boy she had yet to know exactly how he became one of her friends vanished.
He walked towards her purposefully, "What are you doing up so early?"
"I..." Hermione glanced down at her blank parchment, "I was going to write a letter."
It appeared he wasn't really interested in an answer as he pulled out a chair beside her and plopped himself down, slouching. Hermione furrowed her brow in disfavour. She was still annoyed at him for looking so smug before, though she couldn't figure out why it irritated her so much.
Ron stayed quiet for a moment, before leaning forward and folding his arms on the table. He rested his head on top of them then turned slightly so that he was facing Hermione.
"To Harry?" he asked in a quiet voice, taking her by surprise.
He sounded so... pathetic. So small and discouraged and defeated.
Hermione nodded slowly.
There was silence and she shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how close he was sitting so that their elbows were almost touching. The stillness around them was painful and she wished for nothing more than something eventful to happen.
"It's hard, right?" Ron finally said.
Hermione nodded again; it was too hard to speak.
There was silence again.
"Do..." Hermione paused as she wondered what she wanted to say. She knew what she wanted to say, actually, but she couldn't put it in words.
Ron's eyes flicked to her and his blueish-greenish gaze was fixed upon her. Hermione felt her heart skip a beat.
He didn't say anything; just continued to look at her as he waited for her to speak.
All of a sudden, emotion filled her. She was thinking about everything. You-Know-Who. The Order of the Phoenix. The Ministry of Magic. Harry. Her parents. Cedric. Dumbledore. Ron...
"Hermione, are you crying?" Ron asked nervously, his eyes widening.
Oh, dear.
"No," she said at once, her voice quivering a little. She immediately looked away and stared at the dusty floor, mentally telling herself to calm down. It was just Ron, for heaven's sake! Ron whom she had known since she was eleven-years-old, Ron who bickered with her half the time they were together, Ron who drove her mad, Ron who had been quite painfully angry at her for "fraternising with the enemy".
But it wasn't Ron she was getting upset over. Of course, he helped. But still... it was the build-up of everything. She was sick of keeping it all in.
"Oh... alright," he said awkwardly, and Hermione took a deep breath.
"You know," he said rather meekly, "I could help you with that letter if it's really that difficult."
Hermione chanced a glance at him and saw him looking concerned and desperate to help. She chuckled slightly and slowly slid the parchment over to the left of her.
"It's just... I'm not sure what to say to him," she said softly, finding it much easier to look at the parchment, "He's been through so much, and he's all by himself. Oh Ron... I don't think our letters are much help to him."
"What makes you say that?" Ron asked quietly, reaching over and taking the quill from Hermione. Their hands touched briefly and there was a moment's pause. The tips of Ron's ears went slightly pink, Hermione noticed with amusement.
But he wasn't the only one who had felt the tingly feeling. Her heart was pounding madly again.
"Because we can't write anything to reassure him. He's scared and the only thing he can think of is You-Know-Who. But the Daily Prophet isn't reporting anything, and he's going to become restless if there's no news about him any time soon."
Ron nodded slowly, "Yeah, I've been thinking about that as well... He's... the poor bloke, honestly. Judging from his last letter, I think he thinks everyone's avoiding him, including us."
"Exactly," Hermione said with a sigh, "But Dumbledore doesn't want him out of that Dursley house any time soon. I can't believe Fudge doesn't believe him!" she burst out angrily, wringing her hands, "The whole wizarding community's going to be sitting ducks if they're not informed soon about his return! It'll be exactly like it was before You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry. Ron... I'm scared."
Ron suddenly snickered.
Hermione shot him a look, "What's so funny?"
"It's just... you know all these great spells and everything. You're a brilliant witch," Ron said seriously, and Hermione felt herself flush, "And if anyone should be scared, it shouldn't be you. As for me... Probably wet myself if I ever met a Death Eater."
Hermione chuckled, then stopped because Ron looked utterly dejected at that moment.
"Oh, Ron," she said sympathetically with a warm smile. Before she knew what she was doing, she had reached out and laid a hand on his larger one.
"You're such a brave person, even if you don't know it."
Ron's ears had gone red again as he glanced down at her hand on top of his. But he seemed to take confidence from this as he muttered, "Yeah, yeah..."
"Ron," Hermione's voice had suddenly gone stern, and to Ron's disappointment she removed her hand from his', "In first-year, you sacrificed yourself on that chessboard just to stop Quirrell from getting the stone."
"I thought it was Snape," was Ron's amiable rejoinder.
Hermione rolled her eyes as she raised her voice, "In second-year, you faced hundreds of bloodthirsty Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest."
"Well, we had to do something to save you!" Ron exclaimed indignantly, then he seemed to realise what he said, and added hastily, "And all those other petrified people."
Hermione shook her head, "Do you remember when we were in the Shrieking Shack in third-year? You got dragged into it by Snuffles, and although you were screaming like a baby - "
"I was not screaming like a baby."
" 'My leg, my leg! He's got my leg! I'm bleeding! Oh, help me!' " Hermione imitated in a high-pitched, scratchy voice.
"I don't sound like that," Ron said at once, offended.
"The point is, Ron," Hermione said slightly impatiently, "Do you remember what you said when we were in the Shrieking Shack, and Sirius revealed himself?"
"No," Ron said mockingly.
"Not even the part where you said that he'd have to kill us too if he wanted to kill Harry?"
"Oh..." Ron glanced down at the floor and fidgeted with the cuff of his pyjama shirt, "Yeah. That was pretty stupid, huh?"
Hermione was taken-aback, "What do you mean?"
"It would've been one thing if it were just Harry and me... but you were there as well. And - "
"Ron," Hermione cut in, exasperated, "It was an extremely brave thing to do, and I don't care what you think. Don't you go thinking you're good for nothing and that you'd wet your pants if you ever met a Death Eater."
"But I wouldn't even know what to do," Ron muttered, "You need to be smart... have some knowledge..."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh, honestly Ron, do you really think books would help you out in a life-or-death situation? No... bravery is what counts."
Ron snickered again and just as she was about to snap at him Hermione felt the desire to laugh as well.
"This is so stupid," Ron chortled quietly.
"We do argue about the most ridiculous things sometimes," Hermione agreed with a chuckle.
They glanced at each other and when their eyes met Hermione felt herself smiling in a way that made Ron return a lopsided grin. It was one of these rare moments she shared with him that she made her realise exactly why he was her friend. He was sweet, sensitive and comforting in the most unexpected way.
Stop it right now, Hermione Granger.
Hermione looked away, and silence fell in between them again.
"I suppose Harry's got it all, then," Ron said slightly, "He always keeps his head... always knows what to do..."
Hermione smiled reminiscently, then the smile disappeared as the anxiety that had been haunting her for days crept over her again.
"What's wrong?" Ron asked, sounding slightly nervous again.
"It's... Harry."
"I had the feeling." This said sarcastically.
"Do you reckon he'll be angry?" Hermione asked, her voice a lot smaller and weaker than she'd intended it to be. She looked at Ron hopelessly, as if searching for an answer.
Ron fell silent, looking solemn.
"Yep," he finally said.
Hermione let out a breath and closed her eyes, "I know this must be so hard for him, but... what can we do?"
"I don't know," Ron said honestly, looking at her.
"But you're supposed to," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself.
"I am?" Ron looked confused and slightly awed.
"Yes! You're his best friend!"
"But so are you!"
"I know - but that's not the point!" Hermione cried out in anguish, "I'm not his best friend."
Ron was completely bewildered, "What do you mean?"
"Face it, Ron... you and Harry have always gotten along better, and I'm not complaining. It's just you two have a different bond. You understand him better, you know what to say... I always fail when trying to cheer him up. He just gets annoyed at me, and I don't blame him, I always say the wrong thing..." Hermione sighed and cast her eyes down, feeling slightly better after her little outburst.
"Hermione," Ron said when he finally recovered the power of speech, "It's not like that. I mean... I dunno what to say to him either. I think it's gone to the point where... nothing we say or do can help. We haven't... experienced... what he has. It's... we're not able to sympathize with him 'cos... we can't. We just can't."
Hermione's eyes felt suspiciously moist as she asked, trembling a bit, "But he's our best friend. We've got to do something."
Ron looked at her in a helpless way, almost. Hermione looked away, willing the lump in her throat to disappear. He had no business to look so lost and delicate, just when she needed his support the most! If Ron didn't know how on earth they could talk to Harry... then who did?
Hermione suddenly felt as helpless as the way Ron had been looking at her. They were both clueless as to how to comfort their best friend. How disappointing was that? Weren't friends supposed to know how to be there for each other, especially in their hardest times? Why was it that they didn't know?
All that negative thinking was probably what triggered her to ask in a very quiet voice, "Are we bad friends?"
To her surprise, Ron seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He was silent for quite some time, frowning a little.
"No," he replied in a truthful way that convinced her.
"It's just... if I were him, I'd be so mad. And if I didn't get any meaningful letters from my two best friends... I don't know how I'd feel," Hermione explained in almost a whisper, "I can't even imagine it."
"Neither can I," Ron said hoarsely. When she looked up at him, he smiled at her in a way that made her feel that maybe everything would be okay. Unfortunately, that very same smile caused her eyes to well up in tears again, much to Ron's alarm.
"Hermione," he implored weakly, looking quite wary of the situation, "Please don't cry."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said in a choked voice, wiping at her eyes furiously, "I just can't - "
Ron seemed to be debating what to do, as he was getting a strained look on his face. Finally, he said uneasily, "It's alright... it's just Harry. We've known him for years. He'll understand."
And he reached out awkwardly and patted her on the shoulder, offering her a sort of terrified smile. Hermione felt more tears form in her eyes; just watching this pathetically adorable boy attempt to comfort her was too much.
"But we're supposed to be good friends - friends are always there for each other," Hermione sniffed, now feeling quite utterly ridiculous. Honestly, she had to lose it in front of Ron Weasley, of all people. For a split second she was afraid he'd tease her about this breakdown to the last day of her life.
"Well," Ron said rather sheepishly, and he still hadn't removed his hand from her shoulder (it was quite nice, really), "Good friends are always there for each other, but sometimes they don't just realise it. We haven't abandoned him, Hermione, and he knows that, even if he's angry as bloody hell at us. And... we've still got each other," at this, his ears went horribly red and he seemed to cringe, but he continued, "And so... maybe he isn't the only one who needs a friend."
Hermione just looked at him, wondering how on earth this boy could be so aggravating yet so perfectly sweet. Ron was looking at her with a weak smile, wanting her to smile back.
And she did.
Okay, so maybe he wouldn't tease her about it till her dying day.
"Thanks, Ron," she whispered, and feeling a bit daring, she buried her face in his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her slowly, after overcoming his initial shock.
When they finally released each other sheepishly, Hermione took out a tissue and wiped her eyes.
"I still feel awful though," she said in a thick voice.
"Well, don't."
"But I do. And I'll continue to until I do something to know I've tried," she said earnestly, looking up at him. Why did he have to be so tall?
"Well..." Ron straightened up and picked up the forgotten quill, "How about we get on with this letter, then?"
Hermione couldn't do anything but grin at him.
"I think that'll be a wonderful idea," she said softly, causing his ears to redden for the umpteenth time.
"Right. Well, we've got 'Dear Harry', that's a start, isn't it?" Ron said mockingly.
Hermione smacked him on the arm lightly, "I was distraught! I couldn't think of anything else to put on it."
"You misunderstood me," Ron said seriously, waving the quill around, "What I'm saying is the words 'Dear Harry' aren't... right."
"What do you mean, aren't right?" Hermione said, frowning and snatching the parchment away for closer inspection, "What else could you write at the beginning of a letter?"
"He's your best friend, not the sodding Minister for Magic!" Ron exclaimed, snatching the letter back and scribbling out the two offending words, "Hey... Harry... That's more like it."
Hermione snorted, but felt the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile.
Feeling happier than she had felt in days, she leant closer to him and the two spent the morning bickering away as they worked on a long and meaningful letter to their best friend.
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A/N: (hides from readers) I'M SORRY! I know, I know, I know I should be concentrating on CGL and Full House, but I couldn't resist, especially with Half-Blood Prince coming out in two days! (squeals) And I've dearly wanted to do something Ron/Hermione-ish for yonks. :) I hope you liked that, although I didn't mean for Hermione to become so emotional once or twice during that. But oh well. :) I hope you enjoyed that with your dear little heart. I'm planning to write a little section where they discuss about stoof while Harry's at his hearing. So yeah! Thanks for reading. :) --MSQ.