Love, Lies, and a Secret.

Chapter 20: After and Between


Grimmauld Place’s living room
03:00 am

The room was only illuminated by a small gas lamp, completely drowned in silence. Remus Lupin was sitting on an old green couch, having only an old Muggle photograph for company.

And there they were, smiling contently to the camera, James and Lily, he and Mary.

There wasn’t a subtitle, or legend, indicating when the picture was taken, but he knew. He could still remember as if it had happened only yesterday.
It was the day before James and Lily got married.

He still could remember how everybody was so happy.

How he was so happy.

Slowly and delicately, Remus’ fingers surpassed Mary’s image as if they could indeed touch her skin and soft hair.

It had been some time since the last time the old werewolf had seen that old photograph, and looking at it now, he could understand why Hermione Granger had made him remember Mary.

They were alike. It was strange how he had never noticed it before; and it wasn’t only a matter of physical appearance. After all, a girl with chocolate-brown eyes and brown, curly hair wasn’t so difficult to find.
It was what people would call an ordinary look.

Nevertheless, he didn’t think he could ever describe Hermione or Mary as just `ordinaries´.

But their similarity wasn’t about this physical aspect; no, it was something else. Something he couldn’t really distinguish.

"Oh, Mary," he whispered faintly, his eyes fixed at the young woman in the photograph.

Remus knew there was no going back in time to fix things, not even with all Time-Turners in the world; however, he wished- he truly wished- that things had turned out different.

He did love Tonks; not more or less the way he once had loved Mary- just different. Mary had been his first love, his first everything; Tonks was the woman of his life, the one who taught him he also deserved to love and to be loved.

However, Mary was part of his story and in a way a part of himself- even if the romantic feelings were long gone.

"I just wish..." he spoke inaudibly, "I had so many things to tell you, Mary...so many things."

Remus took a deep breath, and closed his eyes painfully, not noticing a teary-eyed Nymphadora Tonks walking up the stairs.

***
Hermione and Susan’s apartment
Hermione’s bedroom
3:05 am

Harry lay awake in the bed, gently holding Hermione. She was sleeping peacefully in his arms, and he wished that he could put his heart- if not completely, than at least a little- at rest.

He didn’t know what had made him to not go back to The Burrow and give show Ron a piece of his mind.

Or maybe he did know.

Hermione.

He knew he couldn’t go back to The Burrow and smack Ron´s face- not right then, anyway.

But the redhead would get his, sooner or later.

Harry let go a small sigh, wondering what had happened with his best friend. During all those years they had been friends, Harry always had understood Ron’s nature; the short temper, the tactlessness with his words- even a certain aversion to hard work (or maybe, just too much liking for parties) but Ron always had been (until then) a person who Harry could trust with his life.

However, everything did seem to change; and Harry wasn’t sure he could be able to forgive his best friend.

"Merlin, Ron," the raven-haired wizard whispered quietly to himself, "what the bloody hell have you been doing?" He shook his head. "You got Lavender pregnant; you hit a girl who was once your best friend. What happened to you, Ron?"

***************************************************


The Burrow
Ron´s old bedroom
3:10pm

"What happened to you, Ron?" Ronald Weasley’s head snapped at the direction to where the well-known voice was. "What happened to you, my brother?" Fred asked again, his tone was serious- as his eyes.


"What are you doing here?" Ron asked harshly. "Don’t you need to go back to your place?"

"And you? Don’t you need to go back to your apartment?" Fred mimicked Ron´s questions, and then looked around at the old orange decoration of the bedroom. "You haven’t sleep in this room since..."
"Since the war," Ron said quietly. And it was true. He just hadn’t realized it, and for a brief moment his mind went back to that time; a time when his only preoccupation in his life was staying alive- he, and his two best friends in the world.

They were difficult times; however, in a way they were a lot easier.

"I didn’t want to go back to the apartment," he answered his brother’s previous question.

"Harry," Fred said simply.

"Harry." Ron nodded with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I supposed he isn’t happy with you," Fred commented. "You got yourself in some big shit, Roniekiens! Even if you and Her-"

"I hit her," Ron blurted out, and then went silence.

Fred froze as he heard those words. "W-What?" he asked in disbelief, his face turned into a disbelieving snarl.

Ron looked his brother straight in the eyes, half wishing that the old Fred; the Fred before the war, was the one in front of him, barely waiting to say a joke or even to give an embarrassing comment.

But that Fred was gone.

"What did you say, Ron?" Fred asked again.

"I hit Hermione," he murmured only loud enough for his brother to hear. "I slapped her on the face." Ron closed his eyes; his own words seemed to have gained an indigested taste in his month, a sudden recognition of shame.
Fred took two heavy steps towards Ron, and grabbed him by his shoulders. "What the fucking hell is wrong with you, Ronald?!" (Ron Weasley’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t remember when it was the last time Fred (or George) had called him by his name (in a non-joke situation, at least).

"I don’t need a lecture, Fred!" he retorted, shrugging off his brother’s grasp from his shoulder.

"No, you don’t!" Fred snarled crossly. "You need another fucking brain! You need to realize that you aren’t a child- and the world doesn’t move around you, little brother."


"Fred, I’m not hap-"

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN!" Fred shouted. "And listen well because I’m not going to repeat it." Fred took a long a breath. "You asked me why I didn’t go home with George. Well, first I wanted to give him and Angelina some time alone in our flat." He laughed humorlessly. "But, principally, I wanted to speak with you, Ron. See how you were." Fred paused, as if he was considering his next words. "Dad- Dad’s words were harsh-" Ron turned his face away, almost ordering himself to not remember his father’s words. "-and-" Fred shook his head, a sad smile on the corner of his lips. "Merlin, Ron, what have you done with your life

Ron opened his mouth but closed it again less than a second later.

"We all suffered our losses. We all have scars- small or big ones. I can’t even imagine what you, Harry, and Hermione went through. Hell, I don’t think anyone can. But I can tell you about pain- the pain of losing a best friend, of losing a girl that maybe- and I had hoped- would turn more than just a friend when the war was finally over." Fred pursed his lips, and blew a steady stream of air, holding back his own emotions. Lee and Leanne’s deaths were still too sensitive.

"You are lucky, Ron," he continued, "You have your two friends with you. Alive. And even this way you want to kill the friendship you have. You simply seem to want to destroy everything that is good in your life, Ron."
"Lavender was a mistake!" Ron tried to justify himself. "A-A temptation...I was happy with Hermione!"

Fred let go a dry laugh. "Bloody hell, Ron!" he cried, "Lavender...Lavender- I feel sorry for her. Yes, you got yourself in big trouble getting her pregnant- but that is not the big issue here, Ron! You said you were happy with Hermione. When? When were the two of you happy? When did you make her happy during this oh-so called relationship of yours?"

"We were perfect!"

"Perfect for what? For your delusions? You treated her like crap, Ron! You seemed to think that the fact she was with you was enough! I’m telling you something, brother, it wasn’t! You need to feed love everyday or it will die."

"And what do you know about love, Fred?" Ron shouted.

"More than you know!" Fred shouted back. "She was the one who broke it off but it was you who had killed the relationship a long time ago! It was you who started fucking Lavender Brown. It was you who shouted in front of all your friends that your girlfriend was a cold virgin. It was you who spoke little about her work!"

"You have always wanted great, big things, Ron. Since we were kids, you were always complaining about what you didn’t have, but you never looked at what you did have. You complained about not having enough money; you are always jealous of Harry’s wealth... but what have you done to change this situation? You just accommodate yourself in a job that you are only in because it is fun and cool. You never tried to do something more." Fred let go a small breath, his voice calming down. "You aren’t a kid anymore, Ron. It’s past time to grow up. You lost Hermione as your girlfriend- don’t make the mistake to lose her as a friend. Because, if you lose her friendship, I’m not sure you’ll gain it back ever again. However, I know Harry will take her side." Fred stopped, and then rubbed his eyes, tiredly.

Ron stood there in silence, watching his brother walk toward the door, unsure of what to say.

"´Night, Ron," Fred said as he opened the bedroom’s door.

"Fred!" Ron called out aloud and Fred stopped. "B-But what I am gonna do about Lavender?"

Fred’s lips cracked in a slight grin. "You’re going to be a father, Ron," he simply said and then walked away.
And Ron stayed there, silently staring at the spot where his brother previously was.

Fred didn’t respond his question.

Or perhaps, he did.

**
The Next Morning
The Burrow

It was a little after six in the morning and he could hear the noise coming from inside the house.
The night before had been restless. Even if he knew he shouldn’t be there, not at that moment anyway, Harry felt it was something he needed to do.

He laughed bitterly at the absurdity of his own thoughts.

He knew Hermione wouldn’t be happy when she woke up and realized he wasn’t there (Maybe I will be back before she awakes, a silly voice echoed in his mind). He knew she would be even angrier if she knew where he was and what he was about to do.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Hermione,” he said quietly to himself, “but Ron and I need a serious talk.”

Harry let go a sigh, closing his eyes fiercely just before entered the Burrow.

**
Ron was eating his breakfast in silence. Usually, he would never have woken up that early, not on a Saturday anyway, but the night hadn’t been peaceful and there was no reason to stay in his old bed staring at the ceiling.
His parents and Ginny were talking loudly between themselves, as if he wasn’t there. His father had said they would go later to see Lavender land her parents, but nothing more than that.

It was as if they were so disappointed that they didn’t have anything else to say.

Once again he wished his mum would start screaming.
He was feeling alone.

And somehow he could understand how Harry must have felt on their fourth year.

“Harry,” he murmured.

“Harry!” Ginny cried, and Ron looked up in surprise. “Harry, what are you doing here?”

Carefully, Ron turned his head and saw his best friend standing at the kitchen’s door. He couldn’t help but noticed that Harry was wearing the same clothes from the night before, and that he looked extremely tired.
“Good morning, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley,” Harry greeted, “Ginny.”
“Harry, dear!” his mother cried, getting up, but Harry held a up a hand, making her stop.

“Please, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said quite firmly, “I need to speak with Ron.”

Ron felt all the eyes boring into him. Unconsciously, he gulped. An angry Harry was a bad thing. However, an angry- looking calm- Harry was a terrible thing.

“Let’s go to my room,” Ron finally said, and then left the table.

***
Ron’s old bedroom

“Harry-” Ron started, but Harry was already cutting him off.

“Please, Ron, don’t try to insult the small amount of friendship we still have by saying you are sorry.”

Ron was taken aback by the harshness of those words, but decided to continue.

“No, Harry, I do have to say sorry. If all this was about you and Ginny, I would be angry too. I understand that you’re angry, but you’ve gotta believe me that I’m sorry.” Ron was speaking rapidly. “Fred spoke with me yesterday and-” He shifted on his feet. “I still have a lot of things to think about; especially about me and Hermione.” He looked tentatively at Harry. “I never wanted to hurt Hermione, Harry. Lavender and I- I didn’t know what I was thinking, mate

To his surprise, Harry let go a dry laugh.

“Ron, I don’t bloody care about you fucking Lavender Brown!” he shouted. “The way you acted was- I don’t have even words for that. Always acting like a prat with Hermione, that ridiculous jealousy, but behind her back you were fucking another girl!” Harry was breathing hard. “But thank god- and you better really thank god for that- you and Hermione aren’t together anymore- so, I don’t give a damn about what will happen with you and Lavender.”
Ron started to be painfully aware of the display of powerful magic around his room.

“But what I do care about, Ronald, is Hermione. And no one. No one hits her.”

Crash! A glass that was on the bedside table shattered into pieces.

“I don’t know what came over me, mate,” Ron’s voice was filled with pleading. “I was drunk- and-and you know me, Harry! You know I would never-”

“Do I know you really, Ron? Because, frankly, you are not the same bloke I used to call best friend.”

“Harry-”

“No, Ron. Yes, we grow up. A lot of things have happened, but somehow everybody stayed truth to themselves. Even bloody Malfoy. But you, Ron...you didn’t grow up. Actually, you became something I can’t understand.”
Ron let his body fall down on a chair, his head buried on his hands.

“I never understood why you always seemed to want to dismiss, to think little of everything Hermione does. Everything was reason for fighting, bickering. However, I always stayed quiet- but now, Ron...” Harry closed his eyes, opening them again a moment later. “You hit her, Ron! You hit her on the face! She was once your best friend, Ron. Don’t you remember that?” He went towards Ron and grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking him aggressively. “Did you ever remember she was your best friend, Ron? Or you were too busy fucking Lavender and hitting her?” Harry’s voice was low, each word coming out his mouth in a deathly cold manner. His hands were down, closed into fists. Ron was about to say something when the door was briskly opened and Hermione stepped inside, a somewhat conniving expression on her face.

“I would like to know it too, Ronald,” she said in an oddly calm voice. She turned to Harry and gave him a meaningful stare, narrowing her eyes.

Ron quickly stood up and approached her. “Oh, Hermione, you don’t know how so-”

Hermione raised a hand to hit him hard on the face. However, she stopped in the middle sentence, just short of his cheek, barely touching his skin.

“I won’t go down to your level, Ronald,” she hissed, removing her hand in a slow and deliberated movement.

“I think I deserved that,” Ron murmured. “I deserved that.”

“No, Ronald, you deserved a lot more than that!” Hermione retorted. “But I like your parents too much to put a child of theirs in a coffin.”

Ron swallowed.

“And be sure, that if I tried to hurt you- a coffin would the nicest thing that would happen with you,” Hermione continued, her pleasant tone belying her grim words.

Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times just before realized it would be better- and safer- to stay in silence.

“What’s wrong with you, Ron?” Hermione asked after a moment. “Why did you stay with me if you wanted to shag Lavender Brown?” She shook her head. “You know what, I don’t think I want to know. It doesn’t matter.” Hermione breathed hard. “Yes, you wounded my ego, my self esteem, as woman, when you decided to sleep with her; but I can live with that. You hurt me so many times before, Ron, that one more one less shouldn’t really count.”

Ron frowned at Hermione’s words and for the first time in his life, he realized that all those bickering, those small fights weren’t painful. It was a dry sensation of his gut, as if he was only now becoming conscious of his acts.

“But nothing,” she continued, “nothing can be worse, or can make me forget, the moment you hit me, Ron. You can’t imagine how painful it was. And I’m not talking about physical pain.” At that moment, Hermione could not control herself anymore. Harry came closer to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she pushed it off. “Before everything we were friends, Ron. Best friends. Does our friendship mean so little to you?”

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Ron apologize in a straight voice. He felt so empty and a fool just saying sorry, but at that moment there wasn’t anything else he could say. “I’m sorry for everything. You,” He looked at Harry. “Harry. You are my best friends in the world, and- Please, forg-” Hermione cut him off, placing a finger on his lips.

She gave a sad smile. “Don’t ask for forgiveness, Ron, because I can’t give it to you right now,” she said in a whisper. “Maybe someday; just not now.” She sighed and then wiped the tears from her eyes. “I just hope, Ron. I truly hope that with all these changes in our life you can finally grow up.” Ron opened his mouth, but Hermione shook her head and then Apparated away.
**

Hermione’s bedroom.

Hermione had just entered her bedroom, after coming from the Burrow, when Harry followed.

“Hermione?”

“Why did you go there, Harry?” Hermione asked before Harry could say anything.


“Er...to talk with Ron?”

“Why did you go there when I asked you to not go there?” she asked again. “What did you want, Harry? To save me?”

“Now, Hermione, there’s no reason to be harsh. Yes, I went there because of you, because I love you! Sure, I should have waited you be awake and talked to you first...but you know how I am, Hermione!”

Hermione came closer to him and cupped his face with her hands. “Yes, I know, love,” she replied in a quiet tone, “and it is very flattering, but you can’t always protect me, Harry- nor fight my battles.”

“Of course I can!” he exclaimed, looking like a spoiled little boy.

“Oh, my sweet Harry, you know you can’t. And I am not only talking about Ron, but also about my work, Harry.”

“Well, about your work...I think we need to have a talk about it, don’t you think?”

“Yes, we need,” she nodded, “but not now. I don’t want to fight with you today, Harry. And don’t look at me like that because you know we’ll have some disagreements.” She smiled at him. “Right now, I’m for more pleasant activities.”

“More pleasant activities, Miss Granger?” Harry smirked. “Like what?”

“You can show me, Mr. Potter.”

“It will be a pleasure,” he replied just before kissing her on the lips.

TBC