Title:  Days of Awe
Author:  Lorien_Eve
Pairing:  Harry/Ron
Rating:  R
Genre:  Drama/Angst
Archive:  You’re more than welcome, just let me know!
Spoilers:  Just from OotP.
Disclaimer:  They’re all J.K. Rowling’s.  Sadly, not one of them belongs to me.  I promise, the books would have a much different rating if they did!
Feedback:  Yes, please!
Summary:  Harry and Ron are separated in a battle against an army of Death Eaters. Harry thinks Ron’s dead. Ron thinks Harry’s not coming back. They find consolation in other people and places. Lives are changed and loves are destroyed when they meet again.

Author’s notes: A huge thanks to Lena, who, only through dedication and a strong stomach, was able to beta some of the later chapters.

Man has places in his heart which do not yet exist, and into them enters suffering in order that they may have existence.
-Leon Bloy



Harry halted and looked questionably at Ron, but he sat down on the bed next to him.  Ron’s face had lost all its color, and apprehension pooled noticeably in his eyes.  Harry knew immediately that something was wrong. Very wrong.  He had only seen Ron look this grim a few times before.  He braced himself for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.  Ron reached out and clasped Harry’s hand tightly, trying to steady his own.

“First of all,” Ron began, looking Harry in the eyes, “you need to understand how I felt.  I didn’t know what to do without you.  I was lonely and depressed.  I waited and waited, but I never heard anything from you.”

“I know,” groaned Harry, “and I hate myself for not writing or visiting your family.”

“Don’t feel bad,” said Ron soothingly. “None of this is your fault.”  He swallowed with difficulty, then continued.  “I was completely lost without you.  Hermione was the only one who seemed to understand what I was going through.  She’d stop by a few times a week to check in on me.  Then, just a few weeks later, her parents were murdered.  She had lost everything, and I had lost everything.  We were both lost. She started coming over more and more often.  I think it was too much for her to stay alone at Hogwarts.  We tried to encourage each other, but we really didn’t know how.  One thing led to another, and…” 

It took a second before Harry understood what Ron was trying to say, but he finally caught on. His eyes widened behind his glasses.

“You…and Hermione?”

He could hardly get the words out.  He supposed that if it had to happen, Hermione wasn’t the worst person for it to happen with.  But he didn’t understand why it had to happen at all.  He felt like Ron had totally given up on him, had moved on and started over.  He had done the same thing with Sean, Harry knew, and it bothered him that he was angry with Ron for doing just what he had done.  He had believed Ron was dead, though, and so he justified himself.  Then a new thought occurred to him.

“You slept with her in the same bed where you slept with me?” he said, starting off in a quiet voice that grew louder with each word.

“But if you’d known how I was feeling—”

“I did know how you felt!  I thought I had watched you being killed!”

“Then you ought to understand!  You mean in the time you were away, you were never so lonely that you didn’t know if you’d make it through the night?  There was never a time when somebody, anybody, would’ve been welcome in your bed?” 

Harry flinched slightly, but Ron noticed it nevertheless.

“You did, didn’t you?” he asked, his eyes growing wide.

“This is not about me!” shouted Harry.

“Oh, it is now!  You’re not going to throw this in my face when you know good and well that you did the exact same thing!”

Ron hated arguing with Harry.  He had been so happy just moments before.  It was the thought of Harry with someone else that hurt so much.  He knew he wasn’t innocent where Hermione was concerned, but he was more than willing to forget about everything if only Harry would.  Harry, apparently, wasn’t ready to let anything go.

“It wasn’t the same thing!  I didn’t use one of my best friends for the sex, then toss her away when I got a better offer.”

“You know me better than that!  Hermione used me as much as I used her.  It was all consensual.”

“She’s smitten with you, Ron.  She has been ever since we were in school.  You were just too blind to notice.”

“I never used Hermione!” Ron spat back.  He was furious at Harry for suggesting such a thing.

“And just how do you justify that?”

Ron thought for a minute. Now that he had started the story, he might as well finish it. Harry would find out sooner or later, and Ron wanted to defend himself, however poorly, by presenting evidence that he would never, ever use Hermione.

“I guess there’s one more thing you need to know," he said quietly, looking down at the floor. "I married her."

His proclamation, though spoken softly, shattered the air like a gunshot.  It seemed to echo in the heavy silence.

Harry spoke, though it seemed overtly loud and out of place.  “You what?”

He stared at Ron for what seemed like forever.  He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t form in his mouth.  He waited for Ron to speak, hoping that something he said would trigger his own response.  Ron, however, didn’t say anything. 

Harry gave up the fight and ran out of the room, slamming the door so hard behind him that the windows gave a hollow rattle. He ran down the rickety steps and out to the garden, his footsteps resounding in the aftermath of his stomps. 

The grass was neatly trimmed, much tidier than he had remembered it. There were no gnomes about, not any that he could see, anyway. Some insects flew in front of his face and others buzzed in his ear. He swatted them away and sat in a corner against the wall.

He placed his hands over his face, pushing the palms into his eyes.  He was not going to cry over this.  He’d cried more than he’d ever intended when he thought Ron was dead.  He wasn’t going to cry anymore.  There was no reason to cry.  Ron was here, he wasn’t dead.  That had been his biggest wish, hadn’t it?  Just to have Ron back.  Well, he had Ron back.

Honestly, he knew Hermione was no match for him.  She never had been.  If, even back at Hogwarts, Ron could have pried his eyes off Harry, he would’ve seen how entranced Hermione was with him. 

Harry would’ve liked to talk to Hermione, to try and help her understand.  Hermione had nothing if she didn’t have common sense, and Harry was sure his rationalizing would appeal to her if he could present it in the appropriate way. 

He proposed a way to deal with Hermione.  He just needed to find her and talk to her.

****

He raised himself up off the ground and went back inside.  There wasn’t anyone downstairs, and Harry was relieved.  He didn’t feel like talking to Mr. or Mrs. Weasley, and he didn’t think he was ready to see Ron again just yet.  He headed upstairs to the first floor of bedrooms.  He wondered if Hermione had actually stayed in Percy’s room last night.  He hadn’t seen her since he and Ron had gone upstairs.  The door to Percy’s room was closed, and he knocked carefully.

“Yes?” said a voice.  It was Hermione.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you,” Harry spoke through the wooden door.

He heard some shuffling, then footsteps, and soon Hermione’s anxious face appeared.  Her eyes were rimmed in red, with dark circles under them, and Harry wondered if she’d slept at all last night.

“Can I come in?” asked Harry a moment later, when Hermione didn’t say anything.

“Sure,” she said, but even with that one word, Harry detected an uneasiness.

She opened the door wider and stood back, allowing him to enter.  He glanced around nervously, not really looking forward to this conversation.  Percy’s room was empty except for a small bed, and a shaky-looking, lopsided desk and chair.  Hermione seemed to sense his edginess.

“He told you, didn’t he?” she asked without preamble.

“Yeah, he did, but it’s okay, Hermione. I don’t blame you.”

Hermione only looked slightly relieved at this.  “I hope you don’t blame Ron, either.”

“I want to, but I know that’s not fair.  I put most of the blame on myself.”

“It’s not your fault.  You didn’t know.”

“Well, blame’s not important right now.  What’s done is done.  It’s the resolution that I came to talk to you about.”

“He’s all yours, Harry.  He’s never been anybody else’s.”

Her voice broke at the last words, and she covered her face with her hands, trying to muffle the small whimpers that forced their way out.

“Don’t cry about it,” said Harry, going over to put his arms around her.

She put her face in his shoulder, crying against him without reserve.

“I never tried to take him from you, I swear,” she choked out between sobs.  “We were just lonesome.”

“I know, I know.” Harry patted her on the back.  “I know you’d never try to hurt me.”

“He didn’t think you were coming back,” she continued, “and then my parents were killed.  We’d both lost everything.”

“I’m so sorry about your parents.  Did they ever find out who did it?”

She shook her head.  “The Death Eaters were long gone before the bodies were found, and there hadn’t been any reports of any Death Eaters in that area.”

If anyone knew how it felt to lose their parents, it was Harry.  Sure, he’d been too young to remember them, but that didn’t stop him from missing them terribly.  They’d never had the chance to see him grow up, attend Hogwarts, become a competent wizard, or join the Aurors.  There had been so many times when all he wanted was a hug or some encouragement.  Even protection at times would’ve been welcome.  Then Ron came along and provided all that for him.  Ron wouldn’t replace Harry’s parents, but he filled the role to the best of his ability, and Harry had begun to depend on him almost as much as oxygen.  Hermione didn’t have that.  No parents, and now that Harry was back, no Ron.

Harry had been prepared to come in and convince Hermione to give Ron a divorce, or whatever it was they did in the Wizarding World.  Harry had never concerned himself with this aspect before because, frankly, it didn’t concern him.  He was sure Hermione would consent to it.  She loved Harry and Ron both, and would want them to be happy.  Now, though, Harry was doing a lot of second-guessing.  By persuading Hermione to give up Ron, he would be taking away the only person Hermione had left.  She had lost so much already. He didn’t want to be the reason she lost anything else.

He looked down at the top of her head. Her face was still masked by his shirt.  She hadn’t stopped crying, but the sobs had subsided.  At that moment, he felt more sympathy for her than he had for anyone in his life.  His will faltered and he gave in.  He couldn’t do it.  He’d let Hermione keep Ron.

“So, anyway,” he stammered out, “I just wanted to let you know that I won’t come between you and Ron.”  It was almost impossible for him to say the words.  It seemed as though he wasn’t the one talking, like his voice belonged to someone else who was making this bizarre announcement.  “You two are married,” that word hurt him more than all the rest, “and I don’t have any right to interfere with that.”

Hermione raised her head, and her eyes met his.  They were shining with half-shed tears.

“I don’t want to keep you apart,” she said.  “He loves you, Harry. Not me.”

“He loves you, too, Hermione.  You know he does.”

She hugged him tightly around the waist.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

Harry hugged her back and said, “Well, I’ll leave you alone now.  I hope you’ll be happy.”

She smiled back at him, the tears still sitting expectantly in her eyes.

Harry closed the door quietly behind him.  He felt an energy in the air, almost surreal.  His mind swam with the realization of what he had just done.  The repercussions began piling up in his head.  He was just beginning to comprehend how much he had changed not only his life, but Ron and Hermione’s life as well.  He’d lived without Ron for two years, though, hadn’t he?  It wasn’t easy, but he knew it wasn’t impossible.  All that was left was to tell Ron about his decision.  That was something he dreaded.  He knew Ron wouldn’t stand for it unless Harry was firm in his resolve.  He took a deep breath, mustering up courage that he didn’t think he had, and went upstairs to find Ron.

****

He didn’t bother knocking, as he had spent so much time in Ron’s room that it felt like it was his own.  Ron was sitting on the bed, looking down at the floor with his hands in his hair.  He jerked up quickly when he heard Harry enter.  He looked nervous, much like Hermione had been, seeming to expect the worst.

Harry gave him a brief smile to let him know he wasn’t mad anymore.  Ron took that as a good sign, and sprinted from the bed to the door where Harry was standing.  He threw his arms around him and squeezed him tight, thinking all the mistakes were forgotten.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” he said.  His voice was deep and broken, and Harry suspected that he had been crying.

Harry fought the urge to hug him back.  Instead, he patted his back platonically, like he had done with Hermione.

“It’s okay, Ron, but I need to talk to you about something.”

Ron pulled back and looked at him with concern.  “What is it?”

“You probably need to sit down for this.” Harry walked over to the bed and sat down.  Ron sat next to him and reached for his hand, but Harry busied it with a stray thread on the comforter.

“I just talked with Hermione,” he started slowly.

“She’s not upset, is she?  I don’t want to hurt her, but I never thought you’d come back.  I’m sure she wasn’t surprised when you told her that I was going back to you.”

“That’s just the thing,” Harry explained.  “You can’t come back to me.  You’re with her now.”

Ron’s eyes grew wide, and his jaw dropped.  “No, I’m not, Harry.  I’m with you.”

“No, Ron.  You’re all she’s got.  I can’t take you away from her.  I know what it’s like to lose people, and she’s already lost too much.”

“What about us?  Haven’t we lost enough?” Ron asked angrily.

“That’s not the point.  You’ve made a commitment to her, and you can’t back out.  She needs you.”

“But I need you!”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve made my decision.  I’m not going back on it.  I’m not going to cause her anymore pain.  She’s had enough,” Harry said with a stout determination he didn’t know he was capable of.

Ron jumped up from the bed and began pacing around the floor.

“You’ve got to be kidding! You can’t just turn your back on us!” he yelled, stopping in mid-stride to look over at Harry.

Harry didn’t say anything.  Really, there was nothing he could say.  He had known Ron would be furious, but it was something he’d have to deal with.

When Harry didn’t respond, Ron continued.  “So all those years we spent together meant nothing?  All the promises and all the dreams?  You’re just giving up on us?”

“I don’t have a choice,” Harry croaked out.

“Like hell you don’t!” screamed Ron.  “This whole thing is about your choices!”

“It’s about your choices, too.  You were the one that married her, in case you had forgotten,” Harry spat.

“How can I forget?  You keep throwing it back in my face!”

“I’m just going to leave.  I don’t feel like arguing with you.” Harry suddenly felt exhausted.

Ron’s disposition changed almost instantly.  “Harry, please don’t go.  I don’t want you to leave,” he pleaded. He rushed over to Harry and kneeled at the side of the bed, taking Harry's hand.

Harry felt something in him break, but he ignored the pain and said, “I can’t stay here, Ron.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to Ireland, I guess.  I don’t have any other place to go.”

“You’re not going back to him, are you?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m not going back because of him, but I’m sure he’ll be there.”

“Please don’t,” begged Ron.  “Stay here.  I can’t lose you again.”

“The flat’s gone.  There’s nowhere else for me to stay.”

“You can stay here,” said Ron hurriedly.  “In one of the other rooms.”

Harry knew it was a bad decision.  Going back to Ireland was really his best chance at a normal life.  He didn’t want to go back to Sean, though.  Not after seeing Ron and knowing he was alive.  Besides, he enjoyed being back in the Wizarding World.  Living like a Muggle again didn’t appeal to him in the least.

“All right,” he assented with a sigh.  “I’ll stay here, but just temporarily.  I’m moving out as soon as I get a chance.”

“Fair enough,” said Ron.

If Harry couldn’t be in Ron’s bed, at least they’d be in the same house.  Losing Harry once was bad enough, but losing him a second time would be too much.  With Harry in the house, Ron hoped that he could convince him to change his mind about them.  It was the only hope he had.