Dark Gods In The Blood
Chapter Seventeen
xmlns=\"http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40\">
A/N: None for this
chapter. Thanks for reading.
Summary: A wandering
student comes home, a broken man pays his penance, and a gruesome murder is
both more and less than it seems. Some
paths to self-discovery have more twists and turns than others.
Rating: R, for intermittent
dark themes, violence, and language
Disclaimer: Nothing
you read here (save the plot and bits of the text itself) belongs to me.
property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. (and someone else, probably, but not
me). All chapter headings are properly
credited to their sources.
Dark Gods in the Blood
by: Hayseed (
Chapter Seventeen
If
the absolutely pure, uncalculating, unpractical spirit of
ruled this be-
patched
youth. I almost envied him the
possession of this
modest and
clear flame. It seemed to have consumed
all
thought of
self so completely ...
Heart of Darkness
1\'>
Someone was knocking on
her door. Ron’s door.
moment. Even though Ron hadn’t let her
pay ... a gift door. Wondering brie
wha
what part of a gift door one should not examine, Hermione moved toward the
noise, shaking her head at her own inanity.
1\'>
“Erm ...” Albus
Dumbledore said from the other side of the door, clearly perplexed to see her
standing there. “Miss Granger?”
1\'>
“Professor,” she replied,
nodding shortly. “Ron’s not here.
1\'>
His shrug was oddly
eloquent, telling her simultaneously that, indeed, he had been searching for
Ron, but she would be sufficient to speak with in cas case.
Albus.”
1\'>
She tried to remember if
she’d ever given him permission to address her informally but soon decided that
it did not matter anyhow. “He was
1\'>
“That would be Kingsley
Shacklebolt,” he supplied.
1\'>
“Right,” she confirmed,
not skipping a beat. “That one.
finished up luncheon. We were
a few hours -- Françoise was taking the kids somewhere and Ron didn’t want to
be bouncing around alone. But that
Shackle -- Shebolebolt called him in to work.
There’s been another murder, you see.”
1\'>
Dumbledore -- Albus --
finally allowed a look of curiosity to cross his face, as if he’d known about all
of the previous events she’d mentioned. \">
“Another murder?”
1\'>
Her voice hitched in her
throat for a moment. “Like -- like
Harry’s. Same circumstances, I
guess. They didn’t talk about it, but
Shacklebolt was pretty insistent about Ron’s going in.”
1\'>
“Hrm ...”
Ron’s -- her -- doorway.
1\'>
“Um ...” she found
herself saying anxiously. “Would you
... like to come in, sir?”
1\'>
his expression as his eyes met her own.
“I would be delighted to, Miss Granger.
Truth be told, I would like a word with you, although your guess was
correct. I was
said she hadn’t seen him since breakfast, and I thought he might have come over
here to pick up a few things. I didn’t
expect to find you, though.”
1\'>
She moved away from the
jamb, allowing him to step past her and into the living area.
country. He said it was ludicrous, me
spending money on a hotel room. And it
made sense, really, what with him all but living with --”
blush. “I ... that is to say ...” she
stuttered.
1\'>
With a dry chuckle that
reminded her suddenly of Severus Snape, Albus made himself comfortable in the
lone armchair occupying the room, stuffing escaping one of its arms and a hasty
mismatched patch fixed onto the seat cushion with a Binding Charm.
Ron and Franço” he” he said. “At least,
I know as much about it as they do. As
for the rest ... well, I have my suspicions, but I feel as if I ought to keep
them to myself.”
1\'>
Settling on the only
other piece of furniture in the room -- a moth-eaten old sofa that she dimly
remembered from Ron’s mother’s parlor many years ago -- Hermione grimaced,
wondering how many of his suspicions Ginny Weasley shared.
awkwardly in a desperate attempt to direct the conversation elsewhere.
1\'>
“Just a few minor points,”
he said, putting on his best ‘twinkly old man’ manner.
about Albus Dumbledore -- he played the benign elderly fellow only when he knew
it would be most unsettling. “Nothing
that can’t wait. Although you’ve given
me more purpose, my dear, now that you’ve brought his new assignment to
light. I confess, I’m surprised that
Kingsley would bring Ron in. He’s been
adamant about keeping him off Harry’s case.”
1\'>
“Ron has given me the
impression that he’s one of the more knowledgeable Aurors in the area of recent
Death Eater activity,” she said. “I
expect that your Mr. Shacklebolt needs as much help as he can get.”
1\'>
Albus shook his head and
Hermione caught a glimpse of a sad cast to his eyes before the twinkle was
firmly back in place. “There’s a reason
that Kingsley Shacklebolt is the youngest person ever to head up the Aurory,
Hermione. He’s no fool -- for the past
couple of months, Ron Weasley hasn’t even been able to help himself.
investigation -- a liability, really, once he found a target for his
anger. My question is, why now?
1\'>
She shrugged.
1\'>
Slowly, his posture
shifted, straightening from that careful slouch to something far more
purposeful. “It is fruitless for us to
discuss it further,” he concluded decisively.
“Since neither of us knows enough about the situation to make proper
conjectures.”
1\'>
Hermione was rather
gratified at the us but remained silent,
knowing he had more to say.
1\'>
Indeed, Albus continued
to speak. “I will then ask you a fairly
pointed question, Miss Granger. How is
Severus doing?”
1\'>
Blinking, she found
herself pondering what the nature of her response should be.
said carefully. “But last week, he
seemed to be in high spirits. Well, at
least as high as he ever gets, I think.”
1\'>
His smile was grim.
1\'>
“He told me ... about his
childhood,” she continued in that same cautious tone, trying to gauge his
response.
1\'>
To his credit, Albus did
not appear to be overly taken aback.
“He did?” he asked. “Well,
then. So you know ...”
1\'>
She wanted to hear
confirmation from his own lips.
what?”
1\'>
“You know about my
connection to Severus,” he said blandly.
“And you must have some inkling as to why he is the way he is, if you’re
as intelligent as Minerva used to claim.”
1\'>
Her eyes widened -- that
almostndednded like sarcasm.
the most roundabout of ways. I expect
you’re referring to the allusion he made to your guilt.”
1\'>
Albus let out a bark of
laughter. “Guilt?
been more along the lines of ‘taking responsibility.’yes\"> Guilt somehow implies
innocence in my mind and I do not doubt that he blames me nearly as much as I
blame myself.”
1\'>
She remained silent,
hoping he would elaborate.
1\'>
“I am not surprised that
Severus told you,” he said, folding his fingers together in some intricate
fashion that allowed him to twiddle many of them at once.
when he was young. I’m sure he took
great delight in finally defying my order after all these years.”
1\'>
Hermione tore her gaze
away from his hands -- they were making her dizzy -- and met his blue eyes,
free of any sort of sparkle for once.
1\'>
“I am not a man who
generally makes mistakes, Miss Granger,” he said candidly, an arrogance in his
features that she hadn’t noticed before.
“But when I do, I most often wind up hurting that boy.
at his mother’s funeral.” His voice
became introspective, losing its sharp edge.
“The skinniest little drowned rat of a boy you’ve ever seen, with
patched robes and big black eyes. I
swore to myself as I watched him standing beside his mother’s grave with nary a
tear to shed for her that I would never let any harm come to him.
I’ve failed him?”
1\'>
“But you took him in,”
she argued -- but it was weak. “You
took him in to raise when no one else would.”
1\'>
“I didn’t have the heart
to take him to an orpha,” h,” he replied.
“But I might have, if Aberforth hadn’t been so adamant about not taking
him. Severus will tell you, Hermione,”
and here his eyes regained a bit of their usual mischievous guise, “my brother
and I generally do not see eye-to-eye.”
1\'>
“He hinted toward that,”
she said dryly.
1\'>
Chuckling, Albus finally
allowed his posture to relax once again, leaning back in the chair and hands
going to the arms. “I can imagine.
deal of my recalcitrant brother. Most
of those ways, though, are ones in which my brother reminds me of myself.”
1\'>
Hermione’s expression
must have betrayed her confusion and disbelief -- he laughed mer at at her.
1\'>
“Oh>“Oh, Miss Granger!” he
cried. “I can tell by your face that
you thought Severus to be all Snape.
No, my dear,” he said, still smiling broadly, “the Snapes are a rather
dour bunch, to be sure, but, as a r Sna Snapes are dreadfully dull.
there’s not an ounce of wit. Oh,
Tertius is a decent enough fellow, but I can promise you that Severus is the
first non-traditional Snape in generations.
1\'> spanspan>
“He looks nothing like
you,” she said in a small voice, though she was not sure why.
1\'>
“He’s got the Snape
coloring, I’ll grant you,” he agreed, “but a temper to rival Aberforth’s on the
worst of days. I like to think that he
inherited my sense of humor,” he said airily, smiling at her frown, “but
Severus’ wit is truly rapier-sharp. I’m
afraid mine is but a broadsword’s edge.”
1\'>
Hermione was absolutely
flabbergasted. She’d never heard Albus
speak so. “Françoise is righhen,hen,”
she said, having no better response.
1\'>
“Of course she is, my
dear,” he said. “She’s quite a
perceptive girl, when she puts her mindit.
have been interesting to see her Sorted.
A wonderful match for young Harry.”
“I’m glad,” she said,
meaning it. “Harry always deserved to
be happy.”
1\'>
“He did,” Albus
agreed. “Although I’m afraid I didn’t
particularly assist him there. Another
victim of one of my mistakes. Possibly
more than one, but I do not care to think on it.”
1\'>
“I doubt he saw it that
way,” she said staunchly.
1\'> <
Albus sighed, and it was
unhappy. “I know he did,” he said.
understood. He understood what needed
to be done and why I needed him to do it.
I only wish ...” His voice was
wistful and had a disturbingly despondent note in it.yes\"> “I only wish I could somehow make Severus understand as well.”
1\'>
She regarded him with
furrowed brow. “Understand what?”
1\'>
His laugh was
bitter. “You saw less than I’d
suspected, Miss Granger. Tell me -- why
do you think that Severus hated -- hates
-- Harry Potter like he does?”
1\'>
Si'>Silent as she mulled his
question over in her mind, Hermione chose her response carefully.
and Harry’s father. I know that.
...”
1\'> pan>pan>
“Even Severus Snape is
not so churlish as to condemn a child
for actions his parent committed before his own conception,” Albus retorted
sharply. “No, Hermione, Harry earned
Severus’ bad blood on his own account.”
1\
She was lost in thought
for a while but eventually came up empty-handed. yes\"> “I don’t know,” she admitted, exasperated with both the topic and
with Dumbledore himself.
1\'>
“Miss Granger,” he began
in a thoughtful sort of voice. “From
the moment Sirius Black and James Potter set foot on Hogwarts grounds, they
were beloved. Teachers, students, even
the headmaster himself turned a blind eye to most of their rambunctious
behavior. I even had James made Head Boy his final year in a hope that he would calm down.
And so, when Severus came to me one night during his sixth year spouting
some nonsense about Sirius sending him to his death at the hands of a mad
werewolf, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.yes\"> I loved Sirius Black and
James Potter so cotelytely that I could not think them capable of such a
thing. And so, I turned Severus away.
1\'>
“He went to Voldemort,
eventually,” he said. “Severus sees
many things in terms of black-and-white only -- a surprising number, really,
for a Slytherin -- and so he managed to interpret my behavior through the years
as the actions of a man who did not love him instead of what was closer to the
truth -- the actions of a man who did not know what to do with the love he
had. Sirius and James, you see, were
very easy to love. Severus it.”
1\'>
She remained tactfully
silent, trying to imagine exactly how one would go about loving Snape.
1\'>
“But I did not learn my
lesson, Miss Granger. When I learned
that the Potter family was one of Voldemort’s targets, I protected them with
every resource at my command. To be honest,
I protected baby Harry.
have done anything to prevent that sweet little boy from being saddled with
such a thing. And then, when they were
... when they died, I committed another fatal error.yes\"> I left Severus to see to Harry.
And that, Miss Granger, was when the Aurors descended upon the Order
headquarters and threw him into Azkaban.”
1\'>
Her face went white with
shock.
1\'>
“I can see that he didn’t
tell you,” he said, acknowledging her surprise with a short jerk of the
head. “Yes ... Severus spent nearly
three days in the hands of the dementors before I could get him out.
that it would never have happened if I hadn’t left him alone.
1\'>
“So he thinks that you
chose Harry Potter’s well-being over his own,” she said, puzzle pieces finally
fitting together.
1\'>
His voice was mild. 1\'> “It’s not your fault,” 1\'> “It’s no more his,” he 1\'> “I am sorry,” Hermione 1\'> Severus? she thought to
after all, and recently orphaned. It
never occurred to me that Severus would see it as yet more proof of my
disregard for him. And through the
years, it happened again and again. As
Harry proved increasingly difficult to keep out of trouble, I had to intervene
more and more often. Like rubbing salnto nto an open wound. Thus, Miss Granger,
while Harry was hated through no fault of his own, it certainly was on his own
account. And so I say again, I wish I
could make Severus understand. I wish I
could take away even some small part of the hurt that I’ve inflicted on him
again and again.”
p>
she said gently.
replied. “And therein lies the
impasse.”
told him in a low voice. “I am sorry
for what everyone has been through.
You, and Harry, and perhaps Severus most of all.”
herself. What made me say
1\'>
The only sound in the
flat was the ticking of Ron’s lone clock, attached to the wall over Albus’
head. She watched the second hand circle
the clock’s face over and over, losing count of the minutes.
1\'>
Suddenly, he
coughed. “Well, Hermione, I’m afraid
I’ve stayed far longer than I’d intended.
Really, I must get back to Hogwarts.
Would you tell Ron that I dropped by?”
1\'>
“Of course.”
to escort him out. pan>pan>“It was ...
enlightening to speak with you, Professor.
Albus, I mean.”
1\'>
“A pleasure, Miss
Granger,” he said politely, slipping out the open door and nodding at her.
Until we meet again.”
1\'>
“Yes,” she replied,
watching him walk away. “Until then.”
1\'>
-- --yes\"> -- --
1\'>
It was late.
sleep, that was the only concrete thing Hermione could lock her mind on.
1\'>
It was late and someone
was knocking on the door.
1\'>
Loudly, unless she missed
her guess.
1\'> an>
Now alert enough to
actually attempt to struggle to her feet, Hermione realized with a start that
she was lying on the couch out in the sitting room.yes\"> She must have fallen asleep while reading.
could not recall she’d snagged from Ron’s bookshelves was sitting on the floor.
1\'>
The knocking continued as
she shuffled her way to the door.
1\'>
“Hey, Hermione,” Ron said
cheerfully as she opened it. “I was
wondering if I could crash here tonight.
I didn’t want to disturb the kids by barging in at this hour.”
1\'>
Bleary and unable to
formulate a reply, she just blinked at him.
1\'>
“I can see, though, that
I managed to disturb you,” he
continued. “Too much sleep is bad for
you, you know.”
1\'>
She rolled her eyes.
cla class=MsoBodyText2>1\'>
“’Bout two in the
morning. So ... can I come in?”
1\'>
“It is
her with an indifferent shrug. “Although
I’m going to consign you to the sofa for your cheek.”
1\'>
Ron did not look
perturbed in the slightest. “It’s a
comfortable sofa. But I confess, I’m
far too wired to sleep for a bit. Fancy
a cuppa?”
1\'>
“I thought you said it
was two in the morning,” she replied with a stifled yawn.
horrified.
1\'>
“I can never sleep
properly when I’m working on a case,” he said, striding toward the
kitchen. “You can go to bed if you’d
like. I won’t be offended.”
1\'>
Well aware of the fact
that Ron knew he was feeding her curiosity, Hermione conceded defeat and
followed him. “So you’re on the case,
then?”
1\'>
“We haven’t got much to
go off of,” he replied, shuffling around in the cabinets.
1\'>
“Beside the stove,” she
said. “So, what do you think about
everything so far?”
1\'>
He shrugged, pulling out
the kettle and walking over to the sink to fill it with water.
more than a curious coincidence. We
never published any details on Harry’s death, so I’m just not sure ...”
indefinable sort of look. “I keep
hoping that if I can do this -- if I can find out what happened to Harry --
that the nightmares will stop. It’s
like his ghost has taken up residence in my brain.”
“I can state beyond any
doubt that’s medically impossible, Ron,” she said in an attempt to cheer him
up.
1\'>
His expression remained
glum. “Bones -- that’s the other
victim, Alistair Bones -- had a son.
Kid just turned ten, according to his mother, who I spent the afternoon
interviewing. I hope he didn’t ...”
1\'>
“I’m sure he didn’t,” she
replied swiftly.
1\'>
“Nicholas did.”
1\'>
She had nothing to say to
that and so did not speak as Ron fiddled with a teapot and cups.
preparing the tea, using a potholder to carry it over to the table.
minutes,” he said.
1\'>
“You always did prefer
your tea bitter,” she said. “I always thought
your tea tasted like what I suspected boiled bark would.”
1\'>
“You never said
anything,” he accused.
1\'>
Grinning at him, she
poked at the sugar bowl. “Did you never
notice that I took nearly five sugars whenever you
1\'>
“It’s been a very long
time since I made you tea,” Ron said.
1\'>
With a suppressed sigh,
she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the table.
1\'>
“Hermione ...”
1\'>
“Ron, it’s two in the
morning,” she said, frustrated. “It’s
not the time ...”
1\'>
He exploded.
Hermione? What, d’you expect to show up
after being gone for thirteen damned years without so much as a ‘how’ve you
been?’ You left without saying a word!”
1\'>
“I left a note,” she
protested weakly.
1\'>
His laugh was reproachful.
for years -- until it fell apart, as a matter of fact.
bit. I can’t tell you why, but I didn’t
want you or Harry to worry about me.
Don’t write to me, Ron -- I won’t reply if you do.
although he doesn’t think he needs it.
Love, Hermione.
1\'>
Many, obviously, she
thought to herself, not speaking.
1\'>
“I wrote you so many
letters, Hermione,” he continued, anger radiating from every pore in his
body. “Please come home
st
style=\'font-style:normal\'>. Tore every
single one of them up. Do you know we
even went to Albus looking for you?”
1\'> an>
“I didn’t want --”
1\'>
“It doesn’t matter,
Hermione, what you didn’t want. Did you
honestly think we wouldn’t worry about you?
That we wouldn’t go looking for you?”
1\'>
“I --”
1\'>
“So when I ask you where
you’ve been,” he said slowly, “I’m not asking out of curiosity or even genuine interest.
because of all of our sleepless nights, all of our tears, all of our
anger. Hermione, tell me
1\'>
“When I left,” she began
hesitantly. “I didn’t know where I
wanted to go. All I had was a suitcase,
a rather aggravated cat, and eighty Galleons.
My first Portkey took me to France.
Spain after that. I was so
disoriented -- the only thing I knew was I didn’t want to be anywhere I’d been
before. My next Portkey, then, took me
to America.
1\'>
“But America was too loud
-- too busy. Even in the quiet
places. So I went down to Mexico, as
I’ve said. I was there for the better
part of three years, traveling around, not settling anywhere.
odd jobs here and there, staying around just long enough to save enough money
to travel somewhere else.”
1\'>
His gaze was still
stony. “How did you wind up in Tibet?”
1\'>
“By mistake, actually,”
she said, emitting a laugh that went unreturned.yes\"> “I was trying to get to Peru but took a Portkey to Hong Kong by
accident. I’d always wanted to see
China, you know, so I just stayed, working my way further and further
west. It took me many months, but I
finally got to the Himalayas. I had no
more money, no more food, nothing but the clothes in my pack, and I didn’t know
where to go next. I was even beginning
to debate going home. But one day,
stumbling around in the cold without so much as a cloak, I found it.”
1\'>
“The monastery,” he
supplied flatly.
1\'>
“The monastery,” she
agreed. “The monks were kind and took
mewithwithout question. I later learned
that they do that sort of thing a lot -- taking in weary travelers with nowhere
else to go. The difference is, most of
their visitors usually take refreshment and leave.yes\"> I just sort of ... well, stayed.
For ten years.”
1\'>
His face was
disbelieving. “And what did you do in
those ten years?”
1\'>
“I helped Master Xi with
the garden,” she said, straight-faced.
“And, in return, he taught me.”
1\'>
“About ...?”
1\'>
“A little about
everything. Nature, philosophy, some
martial arts. Specifically, usually
about the Way. The path to
enlightenment. I’m afraid I am not his
most attentive of pupils.”
1\'>
“I find that hard to
believe,” Ron replied, finally softening a bit.
1\'>
Hermione laughed and,
this time, he smiled faintly. “Do you
know what the monks called me? They
called me Butterfly because my attention
wavered so quickly.”
1\'>
“You’re the only person I
know who read Hogwarts, A History in its
entirety,” he said dryly. “And that’s
more than two thousand pages. Your
attention doesn’t waver, Hermione.”>
1\'>
“You’re vastly
overestimating my abilities,” she said.
“And possibly underestimating the monks’ teachings.
skills are pitiable at best and Master Xi was appalled when I was unable to
spend more than an hour in the rock garden.
He himself can spend upwards of four days there without moving.
remarks, let me say that I’ve actually seen him do it.”
1\'>
Wisely, Ron returned to
an earlier subject. “Butterfly
“You know ... I rather like that.
The caterpillar emerging from its cocoon and all that.
of your life without so much as a pause, but you’re always glad to see
one. I approve of your monks,
Hermione. Or should I say Butterfly?”
1\'>
“You will whether I give
you leave or not,” she said with only a small sigh.
1\'>
“So that’s all?” he
asked. “You spent the last ten years
camping out with secret monks, learning kung fu?”
1\'>
“Not exactly,” she
replied. “Not kung fu.
moves Master Shen taught me before I was introduced to Master Xi.
been learning how to be still.”
1\'>
Shaking his head, Ron
drummed his fingers on the table. “It’s
just difficult to picture. You sitting
still.” His face returned to its earlier
somber cast. “Hermione ...”
1\'>
She hummed questioningly
and poured herself a cup of tea, hoping against hope that it wasn’t bitter
beyond repair.
1\'>
“Why
1\'>
Taking a sip, she made a
face and reached for the sugar bowl.
“Truthfully?”
1\'>
“Truthfully,” he echoed
firmly, hands splayed out on the tabletop.
1\'>
“When I walked out that
door, I thought I’d only be gone for a week,” she admitted with a rueful smile,
stirring the contents of her cup. “I
went to work that morning as usual -- in one of the Research departments over
at the Ministry -- but my boss called me into her office.
awful? Anyway, she called me in and
fired me.”
1\'>
His mouth fell open.
Fired Hermione Granger?”
1\'>
She laughed at the look
on his face. “Yes, Ron.
some cutbacks and as the most junior staff member, I was cutback number
one. I stood there -- it wasn’t even
nine in the morning yet -- with my last paycheck in my hand, not knowing what
to do. So I went back to the flat,
packed my bag, and decided I was going to take a vacation, figure out where to
go from there.”
1\'>
“Helluva vacation,
Hermione,” he said with a sarcastic snort.
1\'>
“I went to France, as I
said. I was sitting at one of those nameless
little cafes in the middle of Paris, having a coffee, and wondering how on
Earth I could face my family with this news.
Fired -- their perfect little daughter -- actually fired.
1\'>
“But I always thought
your parents were quite --”
1\'>
Flapping a hand, she cut
him off expertly. “My parents are
And they loved me very much, I’m sure.
At least, they loved me when I was helping them fulfill their perfect
dreams. It was all right, you see, when
I had such problems in school when I was younger, because my grades were
astronomical. As long as they had
something to brag to their bridge group about, they could ignore the fact that
I came home every day in tears or with a note because I’d accidentally set
something on fire again.”
1\'>
“Why didn’t you ever --?”
1\'>
“Oh, I did,” she said,
anticipating his question. “I was eight
or so. I deliberately flunked
two-thirds of my subjects. Mum and
Daddy slapped me into therapy before I could blink.yes\"> I was so happy to go to Hogwarts -- not just because of the
magic, but because it meant I had days where I didn’t have to constantly worry
about them.yes\"> Do you know that when I left, Mum sent me exactly one
draft it and just put her signature to it.
I had to ...” Her voice dropped
to a whisper. “I had to hear from one
of my parents’ old friends that I ran into in Hong Kong that my father had
died.”
1\'>
He sighed.
1\'>
“I saw them no more than
twice a year,” she said. “And if you
recall, I never gave them a reason to be unhappy with me.
injuries during the years, so they never realized what was really
happening. Oh, they knew a bit about
Voldemort, and enough of our escapades to know that I had friends for the first
time in my life, but they never saw that I was in any sort of danger.
1\'>
“So you left because of your
parents?” His tone was doubtful.
1\'>
“In part,” Hermione told
him. “But mostly because when I thought
much about it, I realized I’d become the daughter my parents wanted -- dutiful,
respectful, sensible. And I hated
old Hermione, she’ll know the answer,’ everyone said.yes\"> I just ... I wanted to go somewhere where they didn’t want me to
be perfect. Somewhere where I could
just be ... well, just be, really.”
1\'>
Ron looked vaguely
apologetic. “I didn’t know we put so
much pressure on you.”
1\'>
“You didn’t, truly,” she
explained. “But I always had a function
in everyone’s mind. You and Harry,
well, you two were just friends, no strings attached.yes\"> But I -- I was your friend because of
much as sneered at me if we hadn’t gotten into trouble together our first
year.”
1\'>
He was
uncharacteristically silent, not denying her assertion.
spoke. “It was Harry,” he rasped.
1\'>
“I know, Ron.”
see, then, what I mean? I felt that --
I felt that I had to make my friends
like me. We weren’t just friends for
the sake of friendship. And it was so
much work ...” Her tone sharpened
slightly. “By the end of it all, I was
just tired. And I knew, then, that if I
continued along the same vein that I would wind up hateful, resenting all of
you for making me work so hard. It was
a slow poison, but poison nonetheless.
So I stayed away. I stayed away,
hoping that one day I could be happy enough with who I was that I could come
back. But then ... then I couldn’t stay
away any more.”
1\'>
“Harry again,” Ron
sighed. “It was Harry who drove us
together -- twice, now. I just wish
that didn’t mean ...”
1\'>
Hermione laid a hand over
his, fingernails rasping against the skin of his wrist.
-- --
-- --