Chapter 12: The Talk
When no answer came to his knocking Harry pushed the door to his and Ron's bedroom open and found the red head sitting on his bed a book propped open between his knees. At the sound of the door opening he looked up and his blue eyes narrowed when he caught sight of his green eyed friend. "What do you want?" He asked with a cold voice.
Harry stilled in the doorframe, uncertainty and awkwardness wearing away at his nerves. The two boys stared at each other feeling suffocated by the heavy silence between them. They hadn't spoken to each other in over a week and neither knew what to say now that they were facing each other once again.
Tentatively, Harry lifted the plate he held higher for Ron to see. "Thought you might be hungry."
Ron's eyes narrowed on the offered plate before turning back to his book. "I'm not hungry. Thank you."
"Ronald Weasley, don't lie to me." Ron turned with a start as Harry stepped into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. For a moment Harry had sounded frighteningly similar to his mother. "I know you better then anyone." Ron chose to ignore his friend and turned back to his book. "Remember that? You didn't eat breakfast this morning. You barley had two bites of your lunch and you haven't had anything to eat for dinner."
"I'm not hungry." Ron repeated without looking up from his page.
"Yes you are." Harry argued stubbornly.
And as if to confirm Harry's suspicion Ron's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, blaringly out of place in the intense silence or the room. Harry snorted as he tried to retain the uncomfortable laughter building inside him. For a reason unknown he found the familiar sound both comforting and funny. He almost had his mirth under control but then he caught sight of the laughter on his best mate's face…and lost it. He let go and laughed, filling the room with the soft, slightly uncomfortable sound.
As soon as Harry started laughing Ron couldn't withhold his own and a chuckle broke free of his lips. The two boys glanced at each other and soon Ron's loud gawfas were filling the room along side Harry's hearty laughter. Their amusement built off each other until they couldn't control it anymore and were laughing so hard it was impossible to stop. Their eyes watered profusely and their sides began to ache.
Several minutes later they were still laughing when Ginny stuck her head into the room to see what had happened. The two boys found it even more hilarious when Ginny stormed away, annoyed that they wouldn't tell her what had caused their laughter, for truly the absurdity of what had gotten them laughing was so unbelievable it made it all the more amusing.
Finally when their sides ached too much to be endured, Harry sank down at the foot of Ron's bed and handed him the plate which he was miraculously still holding onto.
"Here. Eat this before your stomach protests again."
For a moment Harry thought Ron would refuse but breathed a sigh of relief when he accepted the plate eagerly and tore into the chicken leg that was still hot thanks to a warming charm Mrs. Weasley had cast on it. "Fanks." He said through a greasy mouth full.
Harry smiled tentatively back. "Not a problem."
Ron tore another bite from the chicken leg. "Dis dones mean I'm nod till mah ah do."
"What?"
Ron rolled his eyes as he quickly chewed the morsel of meat in his mouth and swallowed. "I said, this doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."
"Oh." Harry looked away. "I know that." The two boys fell into silence as Ron devoured the contents of the plate. It wasn't until he swallowed the last of the mashed potatoes and sighed with satisfaction that Harry ventured to talk again.
"I really am sorry about all this you know."
Ron sighed heavily. "Yeah I know. I just… Why didn't you tell me about the mirror? And how could you not tell me she was coming home for Christmas?" Ron bound to his feet again and began to pace angrily the length of his bed. "All these months you've been saying you wanted Hermione and me to make up, but then you go and help her avoid me."
"I never said I wasn't going to tell you." Harry rose to his feet in indignation. "You heard our conversation. You know I was trying to get her to see you. God," Harry spun around and kicked the base board of the bed, sending a jarring pain up his calf. "I hate this. I really hate this."
"I don't know what you're so worked up about. You were the one who was lying."
"For Merlin's sake." Harry spun back around. He couldn't help but glare at his tall friend. "What was I suppose to do, Ron? You two haven't exactly made this easy for me. No matter what I do I loose out. You and Hermione are both trying to make me choose. But how am I supposed to do that?"
"I never…"
"Didn't you?" Harry cut him off. "Yes, I've been talking to, Hermione. Did you really expect me to just stop?"
"I…"
"And if you did, that meant you expected me to choose between my two best friends. How am I supposed to do that? Please. Tell me. How do I come out of this all right? I either talk to her and I loose you, or I don't talk to her and I loose her. What am I suppose to do?"
Ron's mouth gapped open a minute before he set his chin stubbornly and said. "That's not the issue." Ron pointed one of his long fingers at his friend. "You lied to me."
Harry sank dejectedly onto the bed. "See. I can't win. No matter what I do, I loose out." Harry looked at his friend, his aggravation from the past few months manifesting itself in the form of indignant tears. "What do you want me to do, Ron? Do you really want me to stop talking to her? Am I supposed to regain your friendship by ending mine with hers?"
"No." Ron shouted, his anger rising with each of Harry's arguments.
"Then what? Do you want to hit me?" Harry rose to his feet, arms spread wide in a vulnerable pose. "Go ahead. Hit me, if it will make you feel better."
"Cut it out, Harry." Ron turned angrily away.
"I'm serious." Harry planted himself in front of Ron again. "Hit me. I know it will make you feel better. You've been wanting to hit something for months. Now's your chance. Just take all your hurt and aggravation and hit me."
"Harry! Stop it!" the red head shouted. "I don't want to hit you." he pushed Harry out of the way and strode toward the one grime covered window in the room. He leaned against the wide frame, his arms crossed protectively in front of his chest as he stared through the hazy glass at the house next door. "I was angry. I still am." He took a shuttering breath. "I was so furious at her." He blinked several times trying to clear his vision. "I knew she was communicating with you and Ginny. But I never saw any letters so I was able to convince myself that it wasn't true. It was easier for me to believe that my letters weren't the only ones she was ignoring." His voice sounded unusually hoarse even to his own ears. "When I saw you talking to her it just all kind of hit me at once." He swallowed audibly, trying to force down the lump in his throat. "I know I should be mad at her. I should be furious. I… I should hate her." He shook his head. "But I can't." He turned to face Harry. "And that made me all the more angry. So I turned my anger on you." Ron hung his head as he picked at the chipped paint surrounding the windows. "So I stopped talking to you. I was so worried."
"Of what?" Ron ducked his head so that Harry couldn't see his face. "Ron? Of what?"
Ron sighed with resignation. "I was scared of what I might say."
Harry blinked with surprise. "I don't understand. You've never been afraid of what you might say before."
"I've never said something incredibly stupid that lost me one of my best friends before."
Harry stared at Ron with astonishment. He had had no idea. It suddenly hit him how much his best friend had changed since August. Gone was the hot headed boy who spoke with out stopping to regard the consequences of his words. In his place Harry found a mature, level headed young man who shouldered responsibility well and clearly thought out the consequences of his actions. He understood now why Ron had refused to talk to him. He had been worried that Harry would react to an insult the same way Hermione had.
Harry forced a jovial smile on his face. "You won't get rid of me that easily." Ron looked at Harry over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with perplexity. Harry's eyes twinkled slightly at the familiar scowl. "I like your family too much to let you do that." He explained. "Besides I'm use to all the daft things that come out of your mouth."
"Thanks Harry." Ron said unappreciatively.
"Any time." Harry chuckled and saw that despite himself, Ron's lips twitched as well. "So ah…" Harry rubbed his hands nervously together. "Do you feel better after you gave Fred and George what for?"
Ron flashed Harry the first lopsided grin he had seen in weeks. "I made a prat out of myself, didn't I?"
"Yeah. But it was worth it." Harry laughed. "You should have seen the look on Fred's face when you stormed from the room." Harry mimicked the look, exaggerating the bulging eyes and gapping mouth for full affect.
Ron laughed at Harry's reflection in the window. "You know, Mum says if you make a face like that it'll stick."
"Yes, well even of it does I'll still look a right sight better then you."
The red head tried to glare at his friend with an annoyed, angry stare, but soon lost the will and laughed right along with him, feeling happy and content for the first time in…well, he wasn't even sure how long.
"Ron?" Harry asked tentatively when the laughter ceased.
"Yeah?"
"Are we ok?"
After a minute, in which Harry inadvertently held his breath worried of what the answer might be, Ron turned from the window and nodded once. "Yeah, I guess we are." He walked towards the bed; arms still crossed and sat down.
"I think I'll come with you to Fred and George's shop tomorrow." Harry said after they had sat quietly like that for a few minutes.
"No." Ron shook his head thoughtfully. "That doesn't make any sense, You stay here."
"No. I want to come." He insisted.
"Harry," Ron sighed "I'm leaving tomorrow because Hermione is coming here to see you. If you come it defeats the purpose of me leaving and I might as well not even go. Does that make sense?"
"No." Harry shook his untidy head. "Does that mean you're staying?"
"No." Ron chuckled at Harry's ploy. "And you're not coming."
Harry opened his mouth to argue but didn't. Ron was right of course. Hermione was coming just to see him. "It's not going to be the same tomorrow without you." He said awkwardly, blushing at the sentimentality of his words.
"Yeah?"
"I mean," he continued, "this will be the first Christmas that we haven't spent together."
"Careful, Harry." Ron teased. "Talk like that and people might think you're turning puff."
Harry rolled his eyes at the smirk he saw on his friends face. "Seriously though, is there anything I can say to convince you to stay tomorrow?"
Ron shook his head sadly, the laughter dying from his blue eyes. "I don't think so."
"You're mum's not very happy." "Harry tried.
."That's an understatement." Ron snorted. "I heard her shouting all the way up here. She'll get over it."
"She's worried you know. I don't think she expects me to make it until next Christmas."
Ron's head snapped around, his eyes wide. "Why do you say that?"
"Just something she said earlier about wanting to have Christmas with the whole family while she still can."
"So you're family then, are you?"
Harry smirked at the way Ron tried to ease the tension by making light of his mothers fears. "Guess so."
"Damn. And I was hoping to be rid of you by the end of the year."
"It's good to know I mean so much to you, mate."
Harry jabbed Ron playfully in the arm only to receive a face full of pillow for his trouble.
The boys' laughter quieted down into comfortable silence. Ron stared thoughtfully at the wall while Harry picked at a ball of lint clinging to his jumper. "Is there something you would like for me to say to her or maybe give to her tomorrow?"
"No." Ron flipped his legs up onto the bed and retrieved his book from where he had set it. "There's really no point in that now is there?"
Harry watched his friend, eyes filled with confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know really." Ron sighed, running his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "All I know is Hermione doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't even want to see me. She won't give me a chance to explain. So…"
"So that's it?" Harry asked, knowing full well where this confession was going. "You're just going to give up on her?"
Ron looked Harry straight in the eye. "What else can I do? She won't talk to me."
"I don't know." Harry rose to his feet and started pacing in frustration. "But you have to do something. I want my best friends back and talking to each other. It's just not the same without you two. Gods," Harry looked to the ceiling, rolling his eyes with horrific disbelief. "I never thought I would actually be saying this, but I even miss you two rowing all the time."
Ron chuckled at the near absurdity of Harry's words. "You think that's sad? I would gladly row with her every day for the rest of my life if it meant she would talk to me again."
Harry sank down next to Ron once more. "Why don't you tell her that?"
"I've tried. She won't read my letters."
"So tell her tomorrow when she can't ignore you or run away." He suggested.
Ron shook his head adamantly. "No. That would just ruin her Christmas. I don't need to give her anymore fodder for her anger."
Harry started. "Fodder?"
Ron shrugged, the tips of his ears turning pink. "It means fuel, for like a fire."
"I know what it means." Harry almost laughed. "I just didn't know that you knew."
"Yes, well…" The blush spread from his ears to his cheeks, inflaming them bright red. "I've been reading a bit more this year."
"I noticed." Harry started at his best friend intently when comprehension suddenly hit. "It makes you feel closer to her doesn't it?"
Ron's eyes scrunched in thought. "You know I never even thought about it like that. But I guess in the begging it did."
"And now?"
Ron shrugged. "Hermione was right. Books aren't as boring as I thought they were."
"All right." Harry pulled his wand and pointed it playfully at Ron. "Who are you? And what have you done with my best friend?"
"Funny, Harry."
Harry repocketed his wand. "Are you sure you can't give it one more go with Hermione?" Harry persisted. "That's all I'm asking for."
Ron shook his head sadly. "No. What good would it do anyway?"
"Ron, it could make all the difference in the world. I mean look at all that we've done since we started at Hogwarts. Think of all that could have happened if we hadn't at least tried. Quirelle might have found a way to steal the stone, your sister would be lying dead in the chamber, we never would have even had the chance to know Sirius and I probably would have died in that graveyard.
"And what about what happened at the Ministry. If we hadn't tried none of that would have happened. Sirius would still be alive, Hermione would never have gotten hurt, and I wouldn't have these." he pulled up his sleeve to reveal shinny pink marks like stings from a whip.
"But we did go, Ron. And we could have just given up when the Death Eaters had us surrounded. But we didn't we fought and the six of us survived. That wouldn't have happened if we hadn't at least tried."
"Harry, that's different." Ron protested tossing his book aside once more. "All those things you mentioned were life and death situations."
"So…confronting Hermione should be loads easier, right? Listen Ron, would you please just think about it. I can't make you do what you don't want to do, but I really think you should try talking to her once more."
"I don't know what good it will do, but I'll think about it." Ron conceded. "But right now I really just want to go to sleep."
"Fine." Harry nodded his agreement before walking across the room and began pulling of his clothes to replace with his pajamas.
Both boys slipped under their thick covers content in the silence that was no longer heavy and awkward. Harry had just put out his beside candle and pulled his blankets up to his chin when he heard Ron's voice come through the darkness. "I really miss her you know."
"Yeah," Harry sighed, "I know."
The room fell silent once more being interrupted only by their soft breathing. Harry knew that Ron was still awake by lack of his snores and was fully aware that soon enough would be asking more questions. True enough, Ron turned over onto his back with a deep sigh and said.
"Tell me about Bjorn."
"Ron…"
"Did she really go to the Halloween Ball with him?"
Harry sighed resignedly. "Yes she did."
Silence was fallowed by, "What is he like? Is she happy with him?"
"Ron, I really don't know." Harry turned over so that he could look at his friend. "She doesn't talk to me about him. She usually saves that topic for Ginny. All I know is what Ginny's told me."
"And what has Ginny said?"
Harry pushed himself up on his elbow to better look at the other boy. "Why are you tormenting yourself like this?"
Ron shrugged meekly. "I don't know. I just need to know what he's like?"
Not really understanding, Harry collapsed back on his pillow. "From what I understand, he dotes on her. Pulls her chair out for her," he elaborated, "fills her plate at diner, stays up with her while she works on her homework. He walks her to every class and carries her books for her. I guess he's a really nice guy."
Ron scooted up in his bed so that he could lean his back against the headboard, pull his knees up to his chest, and wrap his arms around them. "He waits on her hand and foot?"
"That's the way it sounds."
Ron's brows scrunched in thoughtful confusion. "I would have thought that would have driven her mad."
"What?"
Ron turned his head to look at Harry. "Well, Hermione is really independent, right?"
"Right."
"So I would have thought waiting on her like that would bother her. I thought it would make her feel like she wasn't capable of doing things on her own."
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is what Ginny says and Ginny said that that's how he treats her."
Ron closed his eyes and rested his head on his drawn up knees. "Strange." He muttered to himself.
Harry watched Ron sit that way for several minutes more before he closed his own eyes and let the rhythm of sleep take over his body.
