A/N: Sorry for the absence of italics in this chapter. I'm too tired to re-read everything while formatting all of their thoughts to italic text. =) Besides, I'm hungry.
Okay, the suicide warning on this really means 'suicide attempt', not actual suicide. No one actually kills themselves. No graphic scenes. Nothing a person reading a PG-13 fic couldn't read. =) I added the warning just in case, and because the warnings are there for a reason.
Chapter four: The Poisonous Prediction
Hermione froze. She bit her lip and her eyes widened as she saw Ron step out from behind the bushes. She looked at him, trying to forget that he was one of her best friends, and how she had said no when he proposed to her that very night as well.
Ron was saying something but she couldn’t hear him. She felt numb from all the shame inside her. Why did he have to see us here, in this particular moment in time? It was all going perfectly…heavenly, even, and here he is. Why?
Harry turned around slowly and surveyed the person who he had once called his best friend. That person was now glaring at him with so much hate that it hurt. He clutched the ring he had gotten for Hermione, trying to look triumphant, and oblivious to Ron’s presence. He stood up, and looked at Ron, listening to what he had to say.
Ron spoke, glaring at the two of them, his expression cold and hostile, “I knew it you know? All along…I knew it.” He sighed, pausing for a moment and forgetting his anger, letting disappointment spread through his body. When he next spoke, it was in a lower, sadder voice, “But it still comes as a shock. I thought…well I hoped, that you would say no to him as well, Hermione. That you would give him the same stupid excuse you gave me, and walk away. I hoped you would do that, and set me at ease.” He paused again, as if saying all this had upset him even more, but continued, “Just-just tell me, why him?” He asked, shaking his head, “We were together longer, and I’ve done so much for you. But I guess, I did something wrong, didn’t I?”
“I honestly don’t know what came over me. I feel so stupid now. How could I have ever bothered? After I already knew the truth…I felt a little bit of hope, you know? Like maybe…maybe you’d reconsider…” He snorted, shaking his head, “Me instead of the great Harry Potter…I’d wish.” She looked at Hermione expectantly. He once thought the sound of her voice could easily make anything better, and yet, as he heard her speak, he felt as if he had fallen into an abyss of misery and despair.
Hermione took a deep breath. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she was sobbing quietly, “Ron.” Her eyes reflected love and worry as she uttered his name. The kind of love you would feel for a brother, perhaps. She sighed. There was no easy was to say what she needed to say, “I-I’m sorry.” She sputtered between quiet sobs, tears running down her face, “I lied to you. You never did anything wrong, of course…I just didn’t want to hurt you…” Her voice trailed off at Ron’s hard glare. She dropped her head, gazing at the grass instead. Her small, delicate frame shivered from both the cold and her anguish.
Ron looked at her incredulously, “Well, you did a great job of ‘not hurting me.’” He spat, eyes narrowed and his hands clamped at his sides. He would never hit her; they all knew that, but he felt so offended and resentful towards her now…
Harry stepped forward, “Ron, calm down.” He said, “Please. Try to relax a bit. It’s not entirely her fault, you know…” Harry’s voice lowered, and he cleared his throat twice before speaking, “I talked her into…well…having an affair…”
“Oh, don’t you worry, I know that.” Ron hissed quietly, taking a step towards Harry, “I would have never thought Hermione was low enough to actually seek an affair.” He paused, half-glancing at Hermione, who was still avoiding looking at him, though her head shot up when she heard her name, ”Still, she did get quite close, by accepting your proposal….” He added with a sneer.
“Shut up. She isn’t low, or anything such as that.” Harry spat loudly, shoving Ron backwards. His efforts were in vain, however, as Ron was taller and stronger than him. He only managed to make him take a few steps back, “You are saying that just because she left you.” He hissed, his confidence half-gone by his failed attempt at throwing Ron to the ground.
With a scowl, Ron pushed Harry backwards into the bush behind him. Harry tripped with a stray branch that lay on the floor, and fell back into the bush, scratching his face mildly. Harry got up quickly, whipping out his wand and pointing it at Ron.
Ron pulled out his wand as well and took several steps towards Harry, until they were about two feet apart, “How do you expect me to feel when my supposed girlfriend is your fiancée? How do you expect me to feel when I’ve just caught you two going at it?” He shook his head, smirking, “But of course you don’t know how I feel. Harry Potter has never experienced rejection. He has everyone’s attention and love ‘cause he got rid of You-Know-Who for a while. So his muggle aunt and uncle don’t love him”big deal. He has the Wizarding world at his feet.” He spat viciously, raising his fists a little. He was clearly getting riled up for a fight, and with his comments, he stirred Harry up for one as well.
Harry snorted lightly and raised his eyebrows, “So that’s what you think of me? All these years as best friends, you’ve always thought of me as the great Harry Potter, with the world at his feet?” He asked quietly, frowning, “You think I’m some attention-loving brat that relishes the idea of Voldemort coming back, just to defeat him again? Jesus, Ron…I can’t believe I ever called you a friend. You know nothing about me.”
“Do I? You’d do well to examine your behavior recently. You act like you’re a misunderstood, troubled soul and that everyone should rush over and comfort you. It’s disgusting.” Ron retorted quickly, throwing Harry a disdainful look.
Hermione looked up just in time. Harry had raised his wand and pointed it at Ron, who had done the same as he spoke. She stood bolt upright and stepped between them, shoving them both apart. She turned to Ron and shot him a disapproving look, “Ron, I’m sorry. I really am. More than once I’ve wished I hadn’t gone through with this….” She said in a small voice, “But…I can’t go back now. I feel something for Harry that I just…don’t feel for you”“
Behind her, Harry hissed at her to shut up before she made things worse. Ron’s ears were getting considerably redder with every word, and his wand was still dangerously close to her delicate, soft face. If he dared fire a curse at her…
But Hermione paid Harry no notice, “”Ron, it would be unfair if I were with you while still loving Harry. It’s better this way, trust me. I….I think you should go.”
“So, that’s it? You’re just going to ask me to go? That’s really the end of our relationship, Hermione?” Ron whispered in a forced voice, still pointing his wand directly at her.
“Ours wasn’t a relationship, Ron.” She said, her lower lip trembling involuntarily, “I mistook my feelings for you. You are no more than….a friend.” At those words, Harry grabbed her shoulder tightly, shoving her aside just as Ron fired a curse, “Everbero!” Ron yelled, and Harry was blasted through the bush behind him. He collided heavily with an empty bench, and lay unconscious.
“You--!”
Hermione made her way towards Ron, wand pointing directly towards him. Her eyes were narrowed and showed no pity. It was ironic, really. Ron, who was the taller, stronger one, cowered at the sight of her holding her wand so fiercely. He took an involuntary step backwards.
“Trust me Ron, you do not want to end up on the wrong side of my wand.” She hissed, walking slowly towards him, “I may be smaller than you, but you’d be surprised how powerful my curses can be.” Ron stood there for a moment, just looking at her, absorbing every detail of her appearance. He blinked, sighing miserably, “We could’ve made it, you know. We could have had a good future together. We would have had everything you and Harry won’t have.” He whispered, “But you chose him. You chose wrong.” He spat, shaking his head. He turned and headed towards the castle, walking angrily.
Hermione stood stock-still as Ron’s words echoed in her mind. She watched as the top of his hair vanished behind the labyrinth of bushes and benches. But you chose him. You chose wrong. Those words worried her. He had voiced her worried thoughts without knowing it. He had voiced the terrible, dreadful thought she dared not confess. She feared she had chosen the wrong person when she chose Harry.
Will Harry die in his final battle with Voldemort? Will he leave me alone in this world, not even to return as a ghost, alone to fend for myself? Without a family, and my true love? Would Harry do that?
He wouldn’t.
But it could happen. If it is already written that Harry will die in the Final Battle, I can’t do anything about it, can I? I’ll just have to accept it.
And yet, as Hermione turned to look at Harry, who lay several feel away, still sprawled over the broken bench, another thought popped into her mind. A thought stronger than any emotion she had felt to this day of her life.
He needs my help. I’ll help him defeat Voldemort. And he’ll live. I know he will.
She quickened her pace towards him. He truly looked hurt. He had bruised his head and his arm was twisted in a very odd angle. It looked broken. She kneeled beside him, clutching his uninjured hand and cupping it in hers. Silent tears escaped her eyes, and she sobbed quietly. Why couldn’t they just be happy? Why was their relationship so wrong? Why was everyone against them?
Harry stirred. He felt someone caressing his hand softly, and a drop of water falling on it. His vision was very blurry. He blinked furiously, trying to bring the world into focus. After a few attempts, he could see the trees above them clearly, and he turned to his hand. Hermione was kneeling beside him, his hand in hers, and she was crying quietly. With a pang, he realized the drop of water he’d felt were her tears.
“Oh, Hermione…” he whispered, touching her hair and startling her a little. At the sight of him she smiled, shaking her head, “It’s nothing…” She said dismissively, wiping the tears away from her eyes and grabbing her wand to mend his arm.
“Did that git do something to you?” Harry asked fiercely, trying to move his free arm towards his wand. It was then that he noticed it was broken, and at his sudden movement, a sharp pain shot through it. It felt like a knife had just been pushed into his arm roughly. He cursed, releasing his other hand from Hermione’s and trying to stabilize his broken arm.
Hermione quickly pushed his healthy arm away and pointed her wand to his broken arm. She closed her eyes, concentrating, and muttered, “Ferula.” There was a flash of white light, and Harry’s arm was back to normal. “Move your fingers around a bit, and it would also do you well to flex your whole arm. It’s important to know that everything’s working properly.” She instructed bossily at Harry, who was panting slightly from the pain he had felt before.
Harry rolled his eyes but did as he was told. After a few minutes he turned to Hermione and said gruffly, “Why were you crying? Did Ron do something to you?”
Hermione shook her head, sighing, “I’m scared Harry. I know I shouldn’t think like this, but I can’t help it.” She bit her lip, “Harry…what will happen…if you die fighting Voldemort?”
Harry sat upright and buried his face in his hands. The constant burden he had to carry around seemed heavier when she pointed it out to him. What would happen? He knew nothing of death or what might happen afterwards”if indeed something happened afterwards. “The truth is…I’m scared too, Hermione. I don’t want to die. I want to live a peaceful life with you. I want to do so many things…” Harry’s voice quivered, “I”I don’t know what might happen. My guess is as good as yours.”
Hermione edged closer to him, and he put his hand around her, “But, if you’re suggesting I don’t fight him, I’m afraid I’ll have to put you down on that idea. It’s my destiny to fight him, Hermione. It’s already written. I have to fight Voldemort; I’m the only one that can get rid of him. The outcome of the battle…well, that’s up to me.”
Hermione nodded, “I know that. The future of our civilization lies in your hands…ever since you were born. I couldn’t possibly ask you not to go through with it.” She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his neck, “But…what are we going to do now, Harry?” She whispered.
Harry scratched his head thoughtfully and remained silent for a few minutes. Then it hit him. It was the only way to be completely happy….
“Hermione…? What if…we left Hogwarts? Together, I mean.”
Hermione pulled away from him, shook her head and raised an eyebrow, “Harry, what’s the point? Our NEWTs are in three months, and you know how important it is for me to pass them. After that, we’re basically gone. No more Hogwarts. Only…memories.” She finished delicately, considering for the first time what it would be like to leave Hogwarts, and to not go back on the first of September again. Thinking, about all the things that had happened in that very castle, all the things that she had discovered and shared. It would all be alive only in her memory.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked after a minute or so. He had been thinking as well. All of the adventures they had had in this place…it was where they’d grown up. It had been his only true home; a miracle, a salvation from his life with the Dursleys. Here, he’d known friends, love, magic, a bit of family history…it would be hard to let go, he knew.
But this was no time to worry about his final departure from Hogwarts. There were more pressing matters to be discussed now.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just…remembering.” Hermione murmured absentmindedly, still remembering and thinking about her past here. She toyed with her wand, admiring how fast these last few years seemed to have gone by.
“It’s odd, isn’t it? Knowing that these are our last weeks here…” Harry commented lightly. He couldn’t help it. He would miss Hogwarts greatly. How could he forget everything he had done in this old castle? Everything he had learned….everything he had known.
“Exactly.” Hermione said, still not smiling.
Harry suddenly felt the ring in his robe pocket. He hadn’t even given it to her yet! He turned to her, and placed it on her finger, where the sapphire gleamed proudly. Her mouth had twisted into a delighted smile, and as she leaned to kiss him, he began to speak.
“Let this be a symbol of my promise to you. I promise that I will love you forever, for I can’t live without you, Hermione. I promise never to love anyone but you, and that I will never let anything bad happen to you. This ring, of course, also symbolizes my other promise to you, which is that I will marry you.” Harry said, just as he had rehearsed the night before.
She smiled widely, and kissed him softly. Their kiss seemed to last a lifetime. A lifetime of joys, wonders, and peacefulness. The lifetime they didn’t have. The lifetime they weren’t meant to have.
Harry felt the delicate smell of lavender in her hair, and the warmth of her body, feeling glad that he had her finally. At last he knew that she loved him back, and that she would not live her life without knowing what he felt.
His body urged him to kiss her, to never let go, but he knew better. It wouldn’t do well to end up having their wedding night on the day he proposed, at school. He pulled away from her and smiled, “Let’s go in now, shall we? I think a bit of dancing would do us some good.”
Hermione nodded, smiling, “Yes, dancing would be good.”
As they made their way back to the dance, they saw a few other couples poorly hidden behind bushes, some of them kissing passionately, and others, talking in low voices. They all shot them amused and surprised looks, putting their heads together and whispering. Nonplussed, they walked inside, hand in hand, hardly looking where they were going. Coincidence, or fate, perhaps, made them bump into Professor Trewlaney, who surveyed them through her giant spectacles.
“Oh, dear boy, I’m sorry. I was so immersed in my inner thoughts that I didn’t see you there.” She said, smiling, “Dear me, Potter, you are in seventh year now, aren’t you?” She said suddenly, clutching his hand.
“Err…yes.”
“Ah! Of course, I knew, but one does not go around boasting about one’s abilities. People tend to think badly…”
Harry glanced at Hermione, who was evidently resisting a very strong urge to roll her eyes. She had always thought of Professor Trewlaney as an old fraud, and her current attitude was a very big achievement.
“Well, err, see you Professor.” Harry said, pulling his arm away.
“Of course, dear boy, but before you go, I must warn you….” Trewlaney said, “It is my duty to tell you this, no matter how dreadful it is.”
Hermione stepped forward, “Err, Professor? We really should go now---“
“Shush, girl, shush! You must not fear the future! You ought to be more concerned in what you will do about it…” She snapped, sounding much like Professor McGonagall, before returning to her usual airy voice and turning to Harry, “Yesterday while examining my crystal ball, I saw something terrible. It is almost too terrible to describe, but I must, for it is my duty to do so. I saw the War of the Wizarding world and, alas, I saw the battle between you and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But I saw more than that, Potter, I saw that you and this young lady,””she gestured to Hermione”“are going to suffer greatly during and after this war, for your fate is not to remain together. She is destined to be with somebody else, and you, my dear boy, are destined to remain alone, with only the grave as your company.”
These last words echoed in Harry and Hermione’s mind, their meaning and truthfulness yet unknown. A part of Harry wanted to shrug it off, saying that Professor Trewlaney was an old fraud, and that she had predicted his death too often to take it seriously, but he couldn’t. There was just something about the atmosphere and the way she had said it that made it repeat itself in Harry’s mind. And having discussed this exact issue a few minutes ago with Hermione didn’t inspire much confidence. Was it a coincidence?
Hermione, however, took Harry’s hand fiercely and glared at Professor Trewlaney, “Professor…really, predicting Harry’s death has gotten very old. Honestly, I am most certainly not in the mood for this pile of rubbish you call a prediction. Go and bother someone else, now, will you?” She snapped, leaving Harry impressed that she would ever dare to speak to a teacher like that. But then, she doesn’t consider Professor Trewlaney a teacher, does she? To her, she’s a meaningless old fraud, Harry thought, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“You dear, will be the most to suffer, I’m afraid….” Professor Trewlaney said to Hermione, her eyes holding a pitiful expression.
Hermione rolled her eyes, and dragged Harry to the Great Hall, bickering about Professor Trewlaney.
“I tell you, that woman just”“
“Hermione….what if…what if she’s right?”
Hermione sighed heavily, “We can’t be sure of that Harry. She has made some predictions that have”so far”turned out to be true…but…”
“Just a few minutes ago you were convinced that it was my fate to die at the hands of Voldemort. Why deny it now?” Harry snapped fiercely at her, grabbing her hand.
“I never said you were destined to die, Harry!” Hermione said tearfully, “How can you say that? I was merely discussing the possibility with you. But I would never declare you dead just because of some prophecy.” She dropped her gaze to the ground, wrenching her hand from Harry’s.
There just wasn’t any way of winning a discussion with Hermione Granger. Especially when she was right. “Listen, let’s get some pumpkin juice, shall we? And then we can dance a bit.” Harry said softly. Maybe it would be best to avoid that discussion. The subject clearly upset Hermione and, to be honest, it scared Harry as well.
“Sure.” Hermione nodded, grinning halfheartedly.
As the night progressed, Harry and Hermione danced happily, and all eyes were on them, particularly Ron’s eyes. He glared at them during every single moment of the dance, hating Harry for having Hermione at his side. At one point, he couldn’t stand it anymore, and stormed out of the Great Hall and walked around the castle aimlessly. He could remember going down a lot of stairs and eerie passageways, as well as a few secret ones, only to walk straight into the Dungeons. He walked a bit around the empty Dungeons trying to clear his mind, and as he paced, occasionally running his hands through his hair, he got a sinister thought.
It would be a way to get rid of his problems, at least. After all, if Harry were dead, Hermione would not be so interested in him, would she? He got a sudden urge to kick himself after thinking that, though. It seemed to pointlessly selfish and wrong to kill his best friend for the love of the woman he loved. A woman, he realized, that was just too unsure and confused about her choices to benefit anyone. And really, Harry had helped him so much during their lives. He had been his friend in the best and worst of times, and even when they fought, he still knew Harry was still his friend.
Is that worth giving up?
Not really knowing what he was doing”or why”he broke the spell that guarded Professor Snape’s office, and made his way towards the many cupboards in which Snape kept various potions. He searched shelf by shelf, looking for a specific potion. Finally, he found it. A unique, and very slow-acting venom. He then made his way to the dormitory, and into his bed, the poison still in his pocket. He waited for an hour or so, until Harry arrived and was fast asleep. Getting up slowly and silently from his bed, he strode towards his old friend. His hand trembled as he realized what he was about to do.
“I’m sorry for what I said tonight, Harry. You know I think no such things about you. You’re my friend, despite all I’ve said…” He whispered, pausing for a second, and deciding that it was probably for the best, “I guess I won’t kill you after all. I can’t.” He added, realizing he couldn’t possibly kill his friend, “You’re destined to fight You-Know-Who, and hopefully, well, defeat him. You deserve to kill him. You don’t have a family because of him….you’ve”you’ve never been truly happy because of him, have you?”
He shook his head and closed his eyes for a few minutes, so that he didn’t notice when Harry opened his eyes and closed them again, pretending he was asleep. It was truly amazing how just five minutes ago, he’d meant to kill him. But yet…when he thought about it, he could tell he wasn’t really going to go through with it at all. No matter what Harry did, he’s still my friend, I’m sure…and anyway, I could have never killed him. He’s the one true friend I’ve ever had.
“Me…well, I’m really no use to anyone, am I?” He continued, sighing deeply, “You’re not the one that should die here…it’s me. So…I guess this is goodbye, old friend. Who would have thought it’d end like this, though, eh?” He said, lifting the potion vial up to his mouth.
A/N: Before you send me angry reviews saying that Ron would never kill himself for Hermione, relax. Just remember: Looks can be deceiving.
Anyway, be sure to leave a review! I repeat, I like to know what you think--good or bad. Just look at my responses for the people who reviewed chapter three...there's enthusiasm in every word. Reviews keep me going. =)
Till the next!