Hello all! I want to clarify something before we go on about what happened to Hermione and that Cruciatus curse.
I got so many responses I thought I needed to explain it better. First of all, she isn’t in the same state as the Longbottoms: she was under Cruciatus for maybe half a minute, not longer. She simply didn’t react to the pain as well as Harry does, and was in a bit of shock. Not everyone can bear the same amounts of pain, you know…
Harry grew up being abused in every possible way; I assumed he has a high tolerance for the sensation. Hermione on the contrary was a pampered only child: her first encounter with Cruciatus was bound to leave a mark. She clung to Ron for comfort, and relaxed when she reached safety. Madam Pomfrey couldn’t help her because there was nothing really ‘wrong’ with her. She just needs to deal with the experience. That’s it.
I hope that cleared things up a bit… I honestly never expected that part of the chapter to cause such a reaction. And absolutely no comments on the Harry and Ginny conversation… Strange…
Anyway, someone also noticed that my plot was a little scattered, and I had to admit he was right. So I took the time to sit down and write a new outline with everything that needs to happen in order for everything to come together. So, things should start to pick up from now on. That said, I hope you like the new chapter!
Oh, and I translated the quote myself, and posted the original in Portuguese (my mother tongue if anyone is interested) in case anyone understands it. It’s simply too beautiful to capture properly in another language, even if I tried not to butcher it.
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The War We Fight | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fluff Warnings: Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 175 Summary: This is the story of a war. A war between good and evil, light and dark. This is the war Harry will fight, where he will learn the meanings of life and death, love and friendship, sorrow and betrayal, honor and hardship. This is the war where he will fulfill his destiny. H/G with some R/H sixth year fic. Hitcount: Story Total: 95177; Chapter Total: 4970 Author's Notes: |
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"Minha alma tem o peso da luz. Tem o peso da música. Tem o peso da palavra nunca dita, prestes quem sabe a ser dita. Tem o peso de uma lembrança. Tem o peso de uma saudade. Tem o peso de um olhar. Pesa como pesa uma ausência. E a lágrima que não se chorou. Tem o imaterial peso da solidão no meio de outros." Clarice Lispector (“My soul has the weight of light. Has the weight of music. The weight of the word that was never spoken, but is perhaps about to be said. Has the weight of a memory. Of yearning. Of a look. Weights like an absence. And the tear that no one cried. Has the flimsy weight of solitude among others.”) Chapter 18: The flimsy weight of solitude among others. Harry stood in the groping darkness at the head of the Entrance Hall staircase, watching with dispassionate interest as the waves of Hogwarts students filled through beneath him, on their way to the Great Hall. He could feel the excitement in the air, the slight shiver that seemed to occasionally seize the crowd… Could hear the sudden raised voices, the agitated murmurs... Could feel in his gut the rumours being spread. He knew from experience that the moment he showed himself a sudden hush would befall the Hall, that every eye in the room would turn towards him and after a moment - a single endless moment - murmurs would arise and the unforgiving machinery of gossip would continue its uncharitable grind. He knew it, and for once he didn’t worry too much. He was done living his life by others standards and a few nasty words by people who didn’t have enough nerve to say them to his face weren’t going to faze him. Not after this summer. Sighing deeply he kept watch, waiting for the scurry to die down some before attempting to find a place at his house table. He felt a presence beside him and knew from instinct that Ginny was there. He waited for her to talk. “Worried, Harry?” she whispered, while leaning against the wall. “Actually, no, Ginny. I can’t wait to hear the novels they’ll come up with this time. But really, I’m not worried.” Ginny knew that Harry didn’t quite mean what he was saying. She could see the tense set of his shoulders, the way his fingers were twirling his wand around, a nervous habit he’d acquired during his time at Grimmauld Place. “Well, I am terrified. Hogwarts gossip scares me more then a horde of Death Eaters, I tell you. They might not kill you, but they can make you suffer. I know it.” She went for humour, and was rewarded a small smile. It was refreshing to see Harry becoming less strained, opening up to a gentle mockery of even the most touchy subjects. “Don’t worry, Gin. We’ll face them together.” He smiled at her, eyes glowing gently, and left her to wonder if his sentence had a double meaning. Her conversations with Harry always seemed to carry a hidden significance: what he said and what she was left to guess - those things he would say if she ever got close enough. “Company is always welcome. Especially in our misery.” She heard the catch in her own voice and felt absurdly comforted when Harry reached out and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, saying softly, “They don’t matter, Gin. We need to live our own lives, regardless of what anyone thinks.” He tuned away then, leaving her to wonder if his words applied to Voldemort too. If they applied to the two of them and what they might have, if he ever got past the fear. But she knew better than to push him at the moment. They would find a time to talk later, when Hermione’s scared eyes weren’t still so fresh in his mind, when the blatant way Rookwood had used his friends as leverage was maybe not forgotten, but at least more of a remote memory. “Is Ron coming? He seemed to want to stay with Hermione…” Harry asked. “He stayed. He didn’t really talk to me, but I heard him grumble something about waking up alone and what not.” She sighed before continuing. “Jerk. He really doesn’t realize that he’s hurting everyone more by not apologizing.” Harry smiled tightly, frowning slightly. “I don’t know what’s going on in his mind anymore, Gin. But something changed at the station. Maybe the clue was to take a curse for Hermione. If only I’d known this before!” Ginny gave a small laugh, remembering how her brother’s eyes had shifted as Hermione was finally able to get out of that Death Eater’s grasp. Maybe Harry was right. “If only we’d known, right? Maybe it’d have been a bit hard to unearth a Death Eater to do the hexing, but still…” Grinning, Harry replied, “Oh no, that would’ve been the easy part. Voldemort seems to keep an ample supply of them, I’d only have to send him a few words and I’m sure he’d comply.” Eyes opening wide at the absurd proposition, Ginny started laughing. “Merlin, the mental pictures!” Harry’s eyes seemed to sparkle at her amusement, and his grinned widened. They were silent once more, watching the last few students scramble across the hall, but a heavy burden seemed to have left both of them. Ginny in particular couldn’t hide the small smile that seemed stuck in her lips. “Should we face the mob, Gin?” Harry asked, shoving his wand in his pocket with a decided gleam in his eyes. “Yep, I think it’s time. We’ll be all right, you’ll see.” And shoving him playfully, they made their way down the stairs. Harry started as he crossed the Great Hall’s gigantic double-doors. The walls, which he’d expected to be decorated with enormous banners in the four houses colours - exactly as they had for the last five years of his life - were covered in black fabric. He felt the bottom of his stomach drop as a wave of dread coursed through him. “Oh no…” he murmured. “Something’s happened…” answered Ginny in kind. “Someone died.” Harry’s toneless voice was as devoid of apparent emotion as the rest of his face. He was thinking back to his meeting with the Headmaster, wondering how he could have let himself believe that they would all pull through. Even the Headmaster had warned that there were some serious injuries. Ginny watched him with deep sadness, all her previous good humour slipping away. “I’m sure the Headmaster will let us know, Harry,” she said quietly, while leading him to the few empty seats near the front of the room. They sat down quietly, amid the clamours of voices and emotions around the Hall. Apparently most people remembered the last time the Hall had been decorated in black and speculation was running high. Harry just hoped that Dumbledore would appear soon. The wait and uncertainty was worse than the news themselves. Neville, who had found a seat near theirs, turned to Harry and asked, worry etched on his face, “Do you know what happened, Harry? The headmaster talked to you this afternoon…” “I don’t know anything, Nev. When I talked to Dumbledore nobody had died, and things were exactly as they were when we left the station,” answered Harry, in a monotone. “Don’t worry too much, both of you,” chided Ginny quietly, “the sorting will start soon and then the Headmaster will tell us the news.” As if on cue, the double doors behind the Head Table opened wide and the professors streamed in, a colourful swarm of robes and hats, each more extravagant than the last. The whole thing seemed calculated to stand in sharp contrast to the gloominess of the drapes and sent shivers of unease gliding down Harry’s back. The headmaster waited for the staff to take their seats and, smiling at the assembled students, said in his booming, warm voice: “I welcome you all to one more year at Hogwarts. After a somewhat bumpy ride, we have finally arrived, unscathed, and for that we must all rejoice. And now, before anything else, let us enjoy this year’s sorting ceremony!” Harry watched distractedly as the queue of diminutive first years made their way into the hall. He searched for a familiar face and, finding none, let his thoughts roam. He clapped with everyone else, but his mind was miles away. He didn’t understand why things were suddenly picking up, why Voldemort was no longer trying to hold onto the pretence that he wasn’t reborn after all. He didn’t understand why, the moment he had crossed the doors and seen those black drapes, the war had suddenly felt so incredibly close and personal. Watching the happy faces around him, he felt as an intruder in a party. There and yet not invited. Hogwarts had always felt like home, despite the trouble that always seemed to find him in the castle, but now… Now he was no longer so sure. “Zabel, Geoff” became a Gryffindor. And suddenly the deafening noise permeated his brain and Harry realized that the sorting was over and that the small boy with golden curls making his way to their table was the last first year. His eyes immediately turned towards the head table, searching Dumbledore’s to try and gauge how bad the situation was. He realized that the headmaster had been watching him and wondered what the old wizard was searching for. He wished he could see into his thoughts, know everything that was happening; be able to finally stop second-guessing every decision. Dumbledore, resplendent in dazzling violet robes, stood up. Silence fell in the Hall and Harry held his breath. Ginny reached for his hand beneath the table and held on tight. “Dear students. Today I must once more be the bearer of dark news. As I am sure most of you are aware, the Hogwarts Express was victim of a most coward and deadly attack this morning. “It was the work of Lord Voldemort and his followers, as most of you must have guessed. It is my sad duty to inform you that there were, unfortunately, casualties. The Hogwarts Express conductor, a dedicated wizard by the name of Edward Mole, was killed in the blast. Furthermore, two ministry Aurors died due to injuries sustained during the battle. I now ask you for a moment of silence to remember those brave men.” Everyone kept quiet, not even the sound of a breath heard. Harry closed his eyes tightly, thinking that if only he had gotten to that last crystal, the outcome could have been very different. He wondered if those men had left behind families. If somewhere, someone was at that very moment in unbearable pain. And deep inside he felt his hate grow a tiny bit. “Today’s attack was meant to deal a fatal blow to this school. Indeed, if it had been successful, Hogwarts would probably no longer exist. But what we have learned today is that we can fight. That we can stand strong in the face of adversity.” The Headmaster’s voice grew in intensity, his power visible behind each word. “What we have learned today is that if we resist, if we fight as one, as allies, good can prevail. And what a valuable lesson this is! Good can prevail!” Harry heard those words, remembered how they might have comforted him even a few months ago. But they hadn’t stood together, this time. They had been saved because Mrs. Weasley liked long goodbyes and for no other reason than that. The Order hadn’t seen a thing and the Aurors were few and more or less unprepared for a real battle. Those were only words; Dumbledore’s speech was nothing but meaningless words. Harry tightened his hold around Ginny’s hand, his stomach clenching. “Voldemort feeds upon fear; he feeds upon discord and dispute. Do not let him win. We are at war. A war still clouded in darkness, that has yet to be let out in the open and declared, but a war nonetheless. Let us prepare for it; let us look out for it, so that it can never catch us unawares. And remember this: together we are strong. Together we are strong.” Dumbledore paused after each word, putting a world of feeling behind them. And Harry saw that this was what the headmaster really believed in. Unity. Harmony. But he knew better. This wasn’t something that they would win in numbers. Voldemort wasn’t someone who could be defeated by a numerous army. This was his own personal battle, Harry knew. This was something that he would have to finish. Alone. “My dear students, let us enjoy our feast with the knowledge that for a day we have thwarted darkness. Tuck in!” And as all kinds of dishes appeared on the tables, Dumbledore sat down. “Harry?” Ginny gave him a slight nudge, concerned. He hadn’t so much as moved a muscle since the Headmaster sat down and the food appeared. He had just sat there, looking at his golden plate, lost in his own mind. “Um?” he mumbled, his eyes loosing their slightly glazed look. “Dinner, Harry,” she said, motioning to the giant piece of roast-beef and the piles of potatoes before him. “You should eat. We’re still running on breakfast, you know?” Harry had to admit that she was right. He could make plans and decide what to do in a few moments. His stomach deserved his attention too, after all. “Sorry, Gin.” He smiled at her, reaching for the roast-beef and serving them both a plate. “I was lost in thought.” Thanking him with a smile for the proffered food, she said, “I noticed that, Harry. But mum will kill me if I don’t look out for you, make sure you get three square meals a day, eight hours a night, blá, blá, blá…” She gazed at him speculatively, before adding, “You are starting to look healthy again, I have to admit. It’d be a pity to lose that, after all my mum put into you those last few weeks.” “Stuffing me like a goose is more like it,” Harry grumbled morosely between mouthfuls. “It worked, didn’t it?” said Ginny petulantly. “So don’t argue with success, it’s not polite.” Harry smiled, and decided not to answer. It had worked, and he wasn’t above enjoying a bit of Mrs. Weasley’s pampering. Deciding that a change of subject was in order, he turned towards Neville and asked, “So, how was your summer, mate?” “Well,” the other boy took a moment to swallow, “I stayed around the house mostly. Grandma was too worried to let me out much. It was a bore most of the time, but it gave me a chance to go over the things we did last semester…” “What we did?” Harry asked, puzzled. “Yes. I went over everything we did in the DA last year. I managed to scrape an EE in the OWLs, you know? My best grade other than Herbology. Grandma was ecstatic, even said I was starting to take after my Dad and threw a party for the whole family. It was all on you, mate. Probably wouldn’t even have gotten the blasted defence OWL if we hadn’t practiced so much last year,” he rambled. “Wow, Neville, that’s amazing! Congratulations!” Harry said, sincerely pleased that his friend was finally starting to see the fruits of his hard labour. “But it was your hard work that paid off, Nev. I was there just to nudge you in the right direction.” “Yeah, well, I’ve heard that everyone in the DA did great in the exams. So I still think it had something to do with you being a great teacher, Harry,” said Neville through a mouthful of meatloaf. “Right, Seamus?” he asked, addressing the boy next to him, that had been quietly following the conversation. “Yes. I had an EE overall too, but only because I screwed up the written exam. The examiner was really nice, said my wand-work was excellent.” With an ironic smile he continued, “I certainly didn’t manage that because of Umbridge. The bloody cow didn’t let us touch a wand in class all year long! But anyway, me mum was very pleased.” Neville smiled at the slightly flabbergasted look in Harry’s face. “Ernie managed an O, I think, as well as Susan and Hannah. I’m not sure about the others, but I heard Alicia had the best results in the school at her NEWTs, but it may be just a rumour.” Harry could feel the heavy weight of the DA’s golden galleon in his pocket. He wanted to set up a meeting as soon as possible, but couldn’t stop wondering how that would damage his relationship with the headmaster. The old wizard had never given his permission after all… However, being assured that his efforts had paid off was more than a small incentive. Seeing the happiness in Neville’s eyes as he described his party and the reaction of his family was the most rewarding thing he had ever felt. Leaning slightly against him, Ginny whispered in Harry’s ear, “Did you think no good would come out of this? Even if there was no war, practice is always good, as you can see.” Harry smiled, and the mindless chatting continued. She was right, of course. The DA was too important to bargain with. He savoured the food and listened to Seamus’ tales about the latest misfortune his father had gotten into when he messed around one of his mother’s cauldrons. He let the familiar noise and atmosphere wash over him, and felt safe for perhaps the first time in months. “…it was sitting in the stove, like stew or something, and me dad thought it okay to taste it before dinner. It was some sort of healing potion for sores but it didn’t work too well. Dad had those nasty blue blotches covering him for a week, had to miss work and all. He completely blew the top at mum, and now she has to put little signs that tell what’s magical and what isn’t, and explain what each thing does. She’s none too pleased, I tell you…” On his other side, Ginny was talking to the small boy that had been the last to be sorted, explaining how the castle worked, pointing out the different teachers. Harry was struck at how normal everything seemed, when just that morning they’d been fighting for their lives. It was amazing how people had the ability to put things behind them and move on. He ate the last bit of his treacle tart, and smiled as everything disappeared a second later. Just in time, he thought. “Just a few last announcements before we all head to bed in this eventful day,” said Dumbledore as he stood up once more. “We have a few more security measures that were added to our usual routine. They have been designed to ensure that the rest of the year runs smoothly. Considering the state of affairs, I expect all of you,” his gaze strayed pointedly towards the Gryffindor table, “to follow the rules. They are there for your safety and breaking them will only get you into serious trouble. “Curfew is set at ten o’clock sharp. The library closes a quarter of an hour before that to give you all time to get to your Common Rooms, no excuses allowed. The grounds are strictly out of bounds as soon as the sun settles, excepting if you’re accompanied by a staff-member.” He paused, gaze drifting around the hall, catching every eye to reinforce the seriousness of this last rule. After a few moments pause, he started speaking again, in a much lighter tone: “On a more pleasant note, I would like you all to welcome the two new additions to our staff this year: Ms. Elektra Tedakis. She has been gracious enough to accept the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.” As an enthusiastic round of applause started around him, Harry couldn’t help but stare. This was the woman who had stood up for him at the Order meeting. This was the unknown ally he had so wished to meet. She was a tall woman, with flowing dark hair framing a heart shaped face. Her skin was pale, an almost translucent white, and her lips a dark red - the image that crossed Harry’s mind was Snow-White - but her eyes transfixed him. They seemed to be constantly changing colours, shifting with her emotions. She stood up as Dumbledore announced her name, and gave a slight bow. Her eyes were roaming the room, taking in the students and seeming to look for one in particular. Harry finally caught her gaze. As her eyes stopped on him, sizing, calculating, they stopped their incessant changing. Harry felt drawn to this woman, a deep, unreasonable liking, that surprised him by its force. She seemed so familiar, and he felt certain they had met in the past, even if he couldn’t remember it. He had a feeling that Defence classes would regain their interest this year. “Next, let me present you Michael Agilius, who will be teaching Dueling to the older students. This class will be an important addition to our curriculum, as we once again open an elective that hasn’t been taught at Hogwarts for dozens of years. It is a great honour to have Mr. Agilius join our staff.” There was a round of applause as a man Harry hadn’t noticed yet rose at one end of the table. He was tall and slight, with a look of finesse about him, the result of great self-discipline and much exercise. He brought to mind the image of a cat, with infinite patience and still blue eyes. As Dumbledore finished the announcements in his usual fashion, speculation ran high among the students, in particular about a young professor with unusual eyes. Harry made his way back to the Hospital Wing in silence, Ginny by his side. She sensed his need for quiet, the need to organise his thoughts. Stopping in front of the door, she asked in a low voice, “Are you sure you want to do this, Harry? We can come back tomorrow, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” “Yeah, I know, Gin,” he answered with a smile. “But I would. This needs to be done, and the sooner the better. No more procrastinating.” Nodding, she pushed the door open and walked in before him, finding at once the only occupied bed this early in the term. They made their way there quietly, realizing as they got closer that Hermione was awake, and watching them approach. With a slight grin, she said, “Hey Harry. Ginny. Thanks for dropping by.” “It’s our pleasure, Hermione. It’s good to see you awake.” Harry dropped his eyes to the floor and asked quietly, “How are you feeling? I’m sor-“ “Well, don’t be, Harry,” cut in Hermione sharply. Raising herself on her elbows, she continued, “You saved me, alright? If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be dead, or worse. I should be thanking you.” With a groan, she let herself fall back on the bed. “So, thank you, Harry, for saving me.” “Are you feeling okay, Hermione?” asked Ron concernedly, speaking for the first time. “Do you want me to get Madam Pomfrey?” “I’m fine, Ron.” She reached out for his hand. “But since we’re all together for the first time in weeks without anyone shouting at anyone, I think it’s time we talked about what’s happening to us.” Ron’s face seemed to cloud immediately, and he turned away from the others around the bed. He didn’t, however, walk away. Tugging gently at his hand, Hermione made him look down at her. “Don’t you think they deserve an apology, Ron? Wasn’t today proof enough that they’re still our friends?” Seeing that this had no effect on the red-headed boy, she sat up once more, with a slight moan, obviously sore. “Ron, we almost died today. Died. Can’t you see that?” Her voice filled with emotion as she continued. “Life’s too short to let your stupid pride ruin this friendship more than it already has. We need to treasure every moment we can. That’s the one thing that’s still obvious to me after today. Ron, I can’t keep this up, I need my friends back. In fact, you need your friends back. I’m tired of choosing sides and crying and pitying myself. I just want us to solve this. Yell at each other, punch each other, whatever. You have my blessing, just… solve it.” Harry and Ginny had kept silent throughout the whole exchange. They knew it wasn’t meant for them. Ginny was silently praying that Ron would finally get past his stupid jealousy and whatever ridiculous inferiority complex that was eating at him and realize that it was causing nothing but his own misery. Harry just waited for things to unfold and felt desperately sorry for his former best mate. It was never easy to own up to mistakes, but sometimes it just had to be done. Slowly, Ron lifted his eyes. With a last glance at Hermione, lying in the bed and silently pleading with him to get it over with, he opened his mouth and said, “I’m sorry. I know it’s late, and that I should have said something a long time ago, but I’m sorry. To both of you.” In the bed, Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. At last they were tears of happiness, and she reached out to Ron, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Harry kept silent, however, feeling that there was more to be said, and Ginny followed his lead. She couldn’t believe that her brother thought a meagre ‘I’m sorry’ would compensate for a whole summer of fighting. “Look,” Ron said tersely, “I know I screwed things up.” Harry frowned; Ginny shot Ron a slighting look before speaking. “You didn’t ‘screw things up’ as you so aptly put it, dear brother, you screwed up. There’s a difference.” “Really? And what’s that?” Ron gibed, not joking. “You spent the whole summer acting like a selfish pig, for no reason whatsoever other than it suited your feelings at the time. And now, when you suddenly have a change of sentiment after seeing your girlfriend,” she hissed the word, “be nearly killed, you decide that an apology is in order. As if friends are disposable; as if we’re here to serve you at your convenience. It’s disgusting!” She paused. “And more than a little degrading,” she added in a softer tone, taking her eyes off her brother. She turned away, as if to leave, but Harry grabbed her gently by the elbow to hold her back. “Wait, Ginny. We should try to work things out. I agree with you, and I share your feelings, but our relationship deserves that we at least try to solve this. For old times sake.” “Except I have no ‘old times’ to remember, Harry. I’m not part of the Golden Trio,” she answered miserably. “You are now, Gin,” he told her softly, assuring her that he, at least, would never take what they had for granted. “And he is your brother. I hate to see you all fighting, it’s not fair to your parents. Family is important, that at least I’ve learned from you guys.” Simple words. Ginny didn’t know why they filled her eyes with tears. She nodded quietly, not trusting herself to speak. Harry turned back to the bed, contemplating Ron speculatively, as if carefully planning his next move. “Look, Ron,” he said finally, “what I wanted was to understand how things got this bad this quickly. You screwed up this summer, and what made it worse was that, since the train ride first year, I expected you to have my back. I think we deserve an explanation.” Ron looked miserable and couldn’t seem to find the words. Of all the things he had lost that year, Harry thought that his easy friendship with Ron was probably the biggest casualty of his break in Voldemort’s headquarters. “I was angry.” Ron’s voice cut the uneasy silence that had settled in the room. “You weren’t answering my letters and Ginny was getting huge packages every other day. I was angry, and a little hurt.” “Maybe if your letters didn’t all include the words ‘but I can’t talk about that’ he’d have answered,” whispered Ginny acerbically. “Maybe you’re right, Ginny,” answered Ron softly, gaze locked on the floor. “But he was also shutting Hermione out, and making her miserable. After some time, I got angry. You were around, so it was easy to take it out on you.” “Sirius died, Ron. I wasn’t exactly in a chirpy mood, locked in that bloody house with nothing but memories and nightmares for company!” cried Harry suddenly, thinking that his part in the debacle was starting to get a bit exaggerated. “I did the same thing the year before and you had no breakdown then!” “I know that now, Harry. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight,” Ron’s voice exuded guilt. “And you weren’t talking to Ginny then. I was afraid she’d drive you away from us… But I was wrong…” Ron looked up, finally meeting Harry’s eyes. “You saved everyone today — you saved Hermione. Thank you.” Harry gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. Hermione watched him expectantly, waiting for the verdict. “I won’t pretend to understand what was going through your head, Ron. Truth be told, I’d have expected you to have a lot more faith in our friendship than you showed. I had a lot more faith in us than that.” Harry looked away before continuing. “It hurt, Ron, when you weren’t there after…” He hesitated, not really knowing what to call it. “When I got back. You were supposed to be my best mate, and you turned your back on me when I needed support.” Ron bit his lip, he had already apologised; all he could do now was wait. Hermione, however, took the opportunity to talk. “For that, Harry, I’m sorry too. We both abandoned you, and I’ll never completely forgive myself.” “I won’t pretend to be okay with this,” Harry glanced at both his friends when he said it. “It will be some time, I think, before I can trust both of you the way I did before, but you’re still my friends. We’ve been through things that few people ever face, and we’re still here. So, I’m willing to try. If you believe we can start over, than we can.” There it was, thought Hermione contentedly. After so many weeks of uncertainty, they were finally here. She reached her free hand to clench around Harry’s and whispered with a smile: “Everything will be okay. You’ll see, we’ll be fine.” Later, as they left the Hospital Wing together, Ginny asked Harry, “Do you think things will ever be the same?” Harry took a moment to answer, watching her. “I don’t know. Honestly.” “But are we the same? You, me, Ron, Hermione?” She gazed into his eyes, completely serious. “I don’t think we’ll ever be the same,” he said. “We’ve been through too much. But that doesn’t mean things have to necessarily change for the worse.” And all Harry knew was that he believed what he had said. As he smiled at Ginny, watching emotions shift in her chocolate eyes, he was never more certain of anything in his life. A/N: I was proof reading this chapter and a few others and realized that I have a few sentences that seem very similar to the Richard North Patterson’s books I’m reading. If they are more than my impression, and I have unwittingly used something from the books, it was done perfectly innocently - due mostly to the fact that I have a tendency to commit to memory things I like. And truth be told, I simply love his style and the way he develops characters. I hope you all liked the chapter, don’t forget to leave a few words! They always make my day. |
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