Chapter 5: The Part with the Cowardly Ron:
Evening was enveloping the day as the trio ambled down the green brick road, a quartet actually, if one counted the cat. Hermione had grown unusually quiet. She was anticipating the next part, facing Ron, and she wasn't looking forward to it.
She wasn't looking forward to it because she found herself slightly drawn to the man walking along to the left of her, even if he did have a funnel for a hat and a suit made of tin. How odd. It's wasn't as if this was the real Draco Malfoy, so why should she find this fellow attractive? On the same note, it wasn't as if the next character they would meet was the real Ron, so there was no reason to fret. Perhaps it wouldn't even be Ron. Perhaps it would be someone else who was cowardly. No one came to mind at that moment, but that didn't mean it couldn't be someone else.
Draco looked over at her slyly and said, "You're being unusually quiet."
"How would you know?" she asked, picking up on the word, 'unusually'. "Perhaps I'm always quiet."
"Perhaps," he agreed, quickly covering his blunder, "or perhaps you're just being quiet because something's wrong. You weren't this quiet earlier."
"I'm dreading the part that's coming up," she said, knowing he wouldn't understand, but yet not knowing that he actually did. However, she didn't have time to explain, because she heard Crookshanks screech and hiss and then saw him as he ran around a large oak tree. Harry ran toward the cat first, with Hermione and Draco right behind him.
"Crookshanks! Come back here," Hermione yelled, passing Draco and Harry, chasing the cat around yet another tree. She bent low to scoop the part-Kneazle in her arms, when she heard a low growl, then a loud roar. She straightened upright, let out a small squeak, and yelled, "Harry, Draco!"
Both men ran toward her voice. When they reached her, they found her with her hands on her hips, the cat at her feet, back arched, its fur standing on end. She was chastising a large, hairy beast that stood in front of her.
"…And another thing, you're so much bigger than him, so how dare you growl at him. He's a small cat, and you're a big lion, you stupid, prat!" Hermione looked over her shoulder at her two traveling companions and said, "This cowardly lion, who I will henceforth call Ron, had the unmitigated gall to growl at, and then scratch out at my poor, little, defenseless cat!"
"She hit me!" the Lion shouted, showing the other two men his paw.
"You deserved it, and I merely slapped your paw for scaring my innocent, sweet cat!" she argued.
Draco tried to hide his snicker. She turned and glared at him. He said, "Come on, Granger, that cat of yours is a beast!"
"How would you know? He's an angel! He's never been aggressive a day in his life!" she lied.
And he knew she lied, but he couldn't call her a boldfaced liar because then she would know that he was a boldfaced liar! Instead he said, "Take a look at the little fellow, Sweetheart. Anyone can tell he can hold his own."
"Are you okay?" Harry asked the Lion, who stood to the side, holding his paw.
"No!" he barked. "Didn't you hear the part where I said that the mean woman smacked my paw? Why did she have to do that? I wasn't going to hurt the little kitty. I was only trying to scare it."
"Why did you want to scare it?" Harry asked.
"Because that's what I'm supposed to do," he explained. "I'm the king of the forest, and I'm supposed to have courage, and be brave. I was trying to prove that I was brave."
"That doesn't mean you're supposed to go around scaring things smaller and weaker than yourself! That doesn't show courage! That's the antithesis of courage! That makes you a bully!" Hermione shouted.
"What?" Ron asked, confused. He leaned toward Harry and said, "Can you understand anything she says?"
"Yes, surprising enough, what she meant was that when you decided to puff out your chest and pick on the cat, which is smaller and weaker than you are, what you were really doing was showing the direct opposite of having courage. You were actually showing you were being a coward."
Hermione and Draco stared at Harry in shock and Draco leaned over and said, "I swear, he must have a brain in that mess of straw somewhere." He was going to remark that this Harry was smarter than the real one, but he couldn't say something like that, even if it was the truth.
Hermione narrowed her gaze and said, "You do seem very insightful for someone who claims he doesn't have a brain, Harry. And very sweet. I couldn't have explained it better." She walked over to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."
"Hey!" Draco shouted. "I knew the antonym of courage, too, you know! I also knew what antithesis meant! Kiss me!"
"Oh, pooh!" Hermione exclaimed, waving a hand in front of his face. She looked at Ron and said, "I suppose we should take you with us to see this stupid Wizard of Because and ask him to get you some courage, if you don't decide to run away from us first that is. Too bad I can't get courage for the real Ron."
"Who's the real Ron?" Ron asked, following Hermione when she began to walk back down the road.
"He's this fellow I know from my home, and I've known him for a long time, and well, sometimes I think he could use a liberal dose of courage as well, but then, when it comes to him, I could, too," she explained.
"Why do you need courage with regards to this Ron bloke?" Harry asked, taking her free arm. Ron already had the other. Draco, once again an outsider to their little trio, fell into step behind them, right beside the cat. He didn't mind being an outsider, an interloper, this time, unlike when they were children, because at this position, he could better observe her, and to hear what she had to say in response to Harry and Ron's inquires.
She took a moment to answer, looked over her shoulder at Draco, and then said, "In my world, I'm engaged to be married to a man named Ron Weasley, but I don't want to be engaged to him any longer. I still love him, but only as a friend."
"Is that why you want to call me Ron?" the Lion asked. "Do I resemble him?"
"You both have ginger hair, and your facial resemblance is remarkable," she said.
"And he's a pussy, just like you," Draco interjected. Hermione stopped, dropped the arms of her companions and stared at him. He stopped walking and held up his hands. "I'm just assuming here…that's all. Am I right?"
She turned back, hooked her arms back in the arms of the other two, and while looking at Ron she said, "He's not a pussy, in the sense that he's not a lion or a cat," she looked back at the tin man again because she swore she heard him snort, "but there was one time in my life that he showed extreme, shall we say, cowardness, in regards to me and our other friend Harry, and lately that, as well as some other things, have been making me question whether or not we should keep our relationship on the same level. I think we should go back to being friends, but I don't have the heart to tell him."
"What did he do to you and your Harry that upsets you enough to this day that you question his courage?" Harry asked.
She frowned and stopped walking. The sky was getting dark and the air cooler. She said, "Perhaps we should stop for the night anyway. We'll stop, have some apples, make a fire, and I'll tell you."
Hermione, Crookshanks and Ron ate some apples while Draco built the fire, and Harry, who was susceptible to fire, and who didn't need to eat, watched idly as they did so. Draco, who did need to eat, hid two apples for later.
Around the golden hue of a warm, wood fire, the five new companions, Hermione, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Lion, and the Cat, sat to watch the glowing embers, and to listen as Hermione told a tale of a young boy, his two friends, and a very, evil, dark lord.
Draco, who knew this story as well as the woman telling it, listened with rapt attention. She didn't glorify any details, or play up any parts. She didn't vilify those who did not need vilified. She didn't even name names, and at this point, and with this company, what would it have matter if she had said, "and then a Death Eater named Lucius Malfoy" did this or that? It wouldn't have matter to these three, as far as she knew.
Nonetheless, she kept names to herself, she kept it brief and concise, but her audience was still enthralled. When she got toward the end, after several hours of talking, and several bouts of tears, (from several of the attendees) she got to the part in which Draco was waiting.
In amazingly adroit but precise detail she told of how Ron left her and Harry, and how she felt betrayed, and scared, and hurt. "He promised he wouldn't leave me, and then he did. It wasn't easy for any of us, I mean, Harry didn't want to be there, I didn't want to be there, but we had no alternative. Ron, however, felt he did have a choice, or an alternative to sticking it out with his friends. His choice was to walk away, and even though he eventually came back, and I eventually told him I forgave him, I feel terribly guilty and ashamed, because secretly, and this is something I've never told another living soul, I don't think I've ever forgiven him."
"Why was his betrayal so much worse than what anyone else did during the war? You said at the start of your story that some of the people who started out your enemies, like that Malfoy fellow who looks like our tin man, is now on friendly terms with most of you. Why can you forgive a former bully like Malfoy, but not a friend like Ron?" Ron the Lion asked. "Especially as he seemed remorseful, and you said he tried to find you."
She stood up, stomped her foot and said, "I know! I know! I know what you say makes sense, but still…you don't leave people you love! You stick it out! Their pain is your pain! Their fear is your fear! Their love and happiness is your love and happiness! I mean, I just met all of you, but I would never leave a single one of you!" She turned her back on the group and began to cry. She cried because the lion was right, and because she felt bad for feeling bad.
Harry got up on his knees, to go to her, but Draco pulled him back. She said, "It makes me the worst sort of hypocrite, I guess, but I retain bad feelings in regards to that. I'm sorry, but I do."
"Is that why you feel you no longer love him?" Draco asked. He desperately had to know.
She turned back toward them, sat down, and picked up Crookshanks. She cuddled him to her cheek, drying her tears with his fur, and said, "I'll always love him. He's still one of my best friends, but I'll never completely trust him again, and I can't give myself fully to someone I don't trust, and whom I can't forgive."
Draco was beginning to worry now. He had lied to her, he was lying to her now, and if she found out, she would never, ever have feelings for him. He didn't know what to do.
"Tell us what happened after your Ron came back," Harry asked.
"It's late," Draco declared. "She can tell us the rest of the story tomorrow." Besides, he didn't want to hear anymore tonight. He didn't want to hear about her being captured and tortured by his aunt. He didn't think he could take much more.
He said, "Best put out the fire, so the witch won't see. I'll stand guard, first. You all get some sleep."
"Right, Draco and I don't need to sleep, so he and I'll watch for the witch," Harry agreed.
Draco forgot that as a tin man, who didn't eat, he must not need to sleep either. He said, "You take the first watch, Scarecrow. I'm going to go over there for a while, and well, take care of some things." He put out the fire, with his little funnel hat (it was really coming in very handy) and he told the others goodnight. He watched as Harry gave some of the stuffing from his own chest for a pillow for Hermione's head. Great, even this Harry was a selfless git! He couldn't compete for her affections with someone like that.
He walked over to a rock just as the lion was telling Hermione, "Sleep tight, Hermione. I'm sorry for scaring Crookshanks earlier, and I promise, I won't betray you like the other Ron. I'll never leave you." He kissed her cheek and then lay down at her feet.
Draco turned so that his back was to the rest of them and took out one of the apples that he had hidden in his 'hollow chest' and he ate the entire thing as quickly as he could. He was about to eat the other one when he heard rustling behind him.
He stood quickly. It was her. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she interrupted.
"Ah…well, no, I'm just sitting on a rock, what is there to interrupt?" he asked. He sat back down and patted the rock beside him. She sat down.
She said, "You were very quiet tonight, when I told my story. I want to know why."
How could he tell her he was quiet because it hurt his supposed 'non-existent heart' to hear what she had gone through as a child, and what she still went through sometimes today? He shrugged and answered, "I didn't have much to say, that's all. I felt bad that you had a hard life."
She gave a small chuckle, nudged his chest with her arm, and said, "And all these feelings of empathy and sympathy coming from a man who doesn't have a heart."
He stood up quickly and said, "Oh, I have a heart, Sweetheart. It may not beat and pump blood the way yours does, but that doesn't mean that I don't feel things, and yearn for things, and love things."
He looked down at the ground. When he looked back up, she was right before him. The moon was coming down in streaks through the limbs and leaves of the trees, playing lights and shadows with her features, and he never thought she looked lovelier. He reached up for her face, faltered, and let his hand drop to his side. "Go to sleep, Hermione. We have a long day of walking ahead of us."
He turned away. She came up behind him. He felt her next to him, even though she wasn't touching him in anyway. He felt as if her breath was tracing a path on his back, his neck, and his arms. He turned. She reached up and cupped his face. "You feel things deeper than other people, I suspect. That's why you remind me so much of my Draco Malfoy, well, and the fact that you look like him." She smiled, kept her hand on his face, and rubbed her thumb back and forth near his mouth. "Those who are quiet, and keep their feelings deep inside, often have the deepest wells of emotions. There's an old adage that says, 'Still waters run deep'. I always thought that about Draco, and I think it about you, my dear, sweet, tin man."
She rose slightly, and kissed his other cheek, the whole while still cupping his first cheek with her hand. She started to step away, but he grabbed her wrist, and pulled her back. He kept her hand in his, and brought it to his face. He kissed her open palm and said, "If your Draco, as you call him, and as I'm sure he would love to be called, would ever lie to you, I hope you would find it in your heart to be as open to him, as you are being to me, Sweetheart."
He kept her hand against his cheek, moved it slightly, kissed her wrist, and then set her free. She stared at him for a full five seconds before she turned and walked away. He sat back down on the rock, facing the group this time, and tried hard to think about what he would tell her when all this was over. His heart was so full; he had a lot to consider.
