Disclaimer: All characters and settings are the property of JK Rowling.
Internal Exile
Chapter 1: Out of My Mind
Why Hermione?
Ron was lying on his bed in the musty Grimmauld Place room that he shared with Harry. He was staring at the ceiling thinking the same thoughts that he had been torturing himself with for three days now.
She is gone.
He couldn’t change what had happened. He couldn’t save her. No matter how much he thought about what had happened, no matter how much he relived the last time he saw her, it changed nothing. His mind, as it inevitably and repeatedly did, went back to the Order meeting last week.
All of the members had met to discuss the covert ops that would help Harry get Horcrux that they knew was in the possession of a specific Death Eater. They knew where it was and were now discussing plans to get it. The meeting climaxed with the members of the Order receiving a very loud and rather long telling off from Hermione. The details didn’t matter any more, but the point was that she could help, as could Ron and Ginny, and their talents should be utilized. Especially if it could mean the difference between success and failure on this mission. Her case did not fall on deaf ears. The planning was eventually finished and they were all given the parts they would play in the raid.
Why did I agree with her? I can’t even remember now why I thought it was a good idea. She should never have been involved!
Tears filled his eyes as he remembered for the millionth time the night before the mission. The last night he had seen her.
He was in the kitchen with Fred and George. They had been busy preparing and were very nervous about what was coming the next day. The three of them were trying to relax, playing each other at wizard’s chess. Ron remembered hoping he could get close to Hermione before the night was over. He cared for her a great deal and after last school year, he was pretty sure she felt the same way. Even though their bouts of awkwardness were common and they had never really talked about their feelings, he still felt a certain calmness and reassurance in her presence. He looked up from the game that the twins were playing to see Hermione leading Harry by the hand into the sitting room. The door wasn’t closed all of the way and Ron could see in. He couldn’t hear anything, but he noticed that Hermione had tears in her eyes. After a moment she grabbed his hands and started speaking very earnestly. She dropped Harry’s hands and hugged him very tightly as tears rolled down her cheeks. Just before she walked from the sitting room she leaned in and placed a very tender kiss on Harry’s cheek. Ron remembered the anger and frustration and jealousy that welled up inside him. He turned back to watch the game as Hermione exited the room. He saw nothing of course. The kitchen, the twins, the game board were not even there as far as he knew; he was so focused on the hurt that flooded him. He felt someone behind him and he knew it was Hermione. As she touched his shoulder the pain inside worsened and his body stiffened. The last words she said to him haunted his thoughts day and night.
“Ron, can I talk to you for a minute . . . . uh in private?
Why didn’t I say yes? Why was I so selfish? Why wasn’t I more kind? Even if she didn’t care for me the way I care for her, I still cared, why did I have to act like such an idiot?
He reran his response again and again as if it was his eternal punishment. He hadn’t even turned to look at her. His response reverberated so loudly in his ears that it brought more tears to his eyes.
“Go tell whatever it is to Harry. You would probably prefer that anyway.”
There was a moment of silence in which her hand left his shoulder.
“Go, can’t you see I’m busy?”
He heard a very deep, very sad sigh, then footsteps retreating up the stairs.
He wasn’t the only one who slept poorly that night, but he was the only one whose sleep was not interrupted with thoughts of the next day’s mission. His thoughts were focused on the feelings of betrayal and hurt that he could not control.
I am so ashamed of myself. It doesn’t even matter that she doesn’t care for me; I would still give anything in the world to have her safe and sound again.
Here in the present in his room, completely dejected, he fell into a restless sleep, relentlessly tossing and turning twisting his bed clothes all around him. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t escape the memories that haunted him.
He felt himself running as fast as he could to the prearranged meeting place after the mission. He could hear many people whispering. In his agitated sleep, he remembered snatches of the conversations that had happened around him.
“I have it.”
“Is anyone following us?”
“Are we all here?”
“Where’s Hermione?”
“We got split up.”
“We need to go.”
“We can’t wait anymore, they’re coming.”
This is always where the unconnected wisps of memory in a dream became clearer and Ron burned with fear. If they wanted to leave fine, but he was going back. He would find her. As he began to go after her, he was grabbed and pulled back into the group. He turned to see Harry holding him.
“Get off!” he yelled.
“No,” whispered Harry. “If anyone’s going back for her, it’s me not you, understand?”
How could he say that! The fury and fear inside Ron was at the breaking point. His blow landed on Harry’s nose causing it to bleed. Again, he turned to run and this time Lupin grabbed him and the next thing he knew he was back at Grimmauld Place. He was safe. And she wasn’t.
Ron woke from these haunting memories covered in sweat and gasping for air. He had tears running down his face and the pain felt as if it threatened to cut off his breath. As his body started to calm, the pain became less sharp and left a hollow dull ache that was just as unbearable. This is how he had spent the three days since the incident, reliving the painful memories that brought him here. He hardly ate anything and didn’t even bother to leave the room. He didn’t speak to anyone and when the people around him tried to talk to him, he barely even heard them.
A/N: Thanks to my BETA mugglemomjackson for her hard work.