Chapter 2: Secrets

"Harry, you can't tell him I'm here yet. You can't." Hermione angrily dragged her suitcase upstairs, so riled that she had forgotten she could easily use her wand to do it.

"Well, why did you come here then? To hide in Ginny's room and hope that Ron wouldn't notice?"

Hermione glared at Harry. "In case you hadn't forgotten, Harry," she whispered angrily, "there is a wedding here tomorrow, and I was invited. I decided to come back for George, and for you and Ginny, only. Not to sulk in my room about Ron, not to cry on your shoulder. Just for the wedding."

"I still think we should wake him up. He'll be furious when he gets up to find you here tomorrow morning."

"Well, I don't –"

Unfortunately, their conversation hadn't been quiet enough. Ron staggered out of his bedroom, nursing a pounding, Butterbeer-filled head. "Harry, what're you…" His voice trailed off, and for a moment his mouth dropped open in a perfect O. He was speechless as he stared at Hermione. She averted her gaze and stared behind him at the wall.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he said, when the words had finally formed. "I mean…why? I thought you were staying back in America…or I dunno…wherever."

"Australia, Ronald. And as I pointed out to Harry, I came back because I was invited to your brother's wedding."

Ron's face fell. "Oh. I see, then." He whirled around into his bedroom, and slammed the door so hard this time that the plaque bearing his name swung off and shattered into pieces.

After unpacking her suitcase, Hermione crawled, fully-clothed, under the duvet on the spare bed set up in Ginny's room for guests. She reached over the edge of the bed and pulled a bag from the floor.

"Here you go, Harry," said Hermione, handing him a small box. Inside was a wand in the shape of a Didgeridoo. He gave it a flick and the next minute the sound of Australian Aboriginal music filled the air. There was also a t-shirt that said "Wizard of Oz", bearing a picture of a wizard wearing a bobbled cork hat, cloak and grasping his wand against a backdrop of the Australian landscape. "I found a tiny wizarding village up north in Australia. Timberacha, it was called. They're all so different up there! But very exciting. Great photos!" She passed Ginny a parcel, into which Ginny peeked and hurriedly stuffed it under her pillow, before Harry could see it.

"Thanks, Hermione," they both said, at the same time.

"Has Ron been like this the whole time?" asked Hermione. Both Harry and Ginny were taken aback that Hermione had started talking about it so quickly.

Ginny nodded. "More or less. He's had his good moments, but…" Her voice trailed off. "Mostly near suicidal."

"Ginny!" said Harry, but it was too late; a tear had dripped down Hermione's cheek and splashed onto her lap. Her gaze remained cast downwards.

"What did happen, Hermione?" asked Ginny, but Hermione shook her head ever so slightly. "You can tell me. I'm your best friend, aren't I?"

"Ginny," scolded Harry, a second time, "she doesn't want to talk about it!"

"Okay, okay," Ginny said. "I only wanted to help." She turned back to Hermione, glaring at Harry. "We'll leave you alone for awhile, all right? There was something Mum wanted us to do downstairs, anyway." And with that, she grabbed Harry's hand and all but yanked him out of the room, leaving Hermione staring up at the ceiling, tears splashing further and further down her cheeks.

She stood up, circled the room about fifteen times, then lay back down again. Nothing she did could really make her forget that Ron, who was once her Ron, was sleeping, probably soundly, in the room opposite. It was painful, rather like having somebody press a slab of ice onto her chest.

"Stop it, Hermione," she growled at herself. "You've dealt with worse than these. Bellatrix Lestrange nearly killed you. Voldemort nearly killed you. You can cope with something as ridiculously pathetic as this." But she was not convinced. She sank back into her pillow and wept silently, determined that nobody would hear her cry, nobody would know.

As she closed her eyes, memories flooded into her mind, memories of the happier days with Ron. What she didn't know was that, at that moment, Ron too was lying awake in bed, reliving the same memories in unison with her own.