Realization

Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing, no characters, places, ect. It all belongs to JK.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Harry?” Ron asked. “Harry, what’s wrong?”
Harry had just come storming into Grimmauld Place’s kitchen. He crossed to where Ron and Hermione were sitting in conversation with Tonks.
“Wotcher, Harry,” Tonks said.
He completely ignored her, seized his two best friends by the upper arms and marched them out of the kitchen. He ignored all of the anxious questions and concerned looks from the various Order members scattered throughout the kitchen, and dragged Ron and Hermione silently, resolutely, from the kitchen.
The look on his face scared Hermione so much that as soon as they reached the door to the street, she began to struggle against him. He ignored her. The door opened of its own accord and he pulled them through it onto the front stoop. It slammed shut, again on its own. He grasped their arms tighter and began to spin on the spot, soon vanishing in a wave of fury, dragging his two best friends along for the ride.
When the pressing sensation had let up, Ron and Hermione found themselves in the Shrieking Shack with Harry. Harry released the other two and Hermione automatically recoiled into the shelter of Ron’s arms, throwing a confused, scared look at Harry before she buried her face in Ron’s robes.
“What’s going on here?” Ron demanded.
“Ginny,” Harry said, letting desperation fill his voice. “She’s been kidnapped,” he said heavily.
Hermione let out a sob and Ron tightened his grip on her. Then he turned a stony face to Harry and asked, “Why?”
Harry sighed, all anger gone, and a look of resignation crossed his face. “Because of me.” He let his words sink in for a moment, but continued before Ron regained his powers of speech. “She pushed me into it. If I had had my way, she would have been under the Fidelius Charm, but you both know her, she’s so—“
“What did she push you into?” asked Ron angrily.
Harry sighed again. “She’s…” his pause seemed like an eternity to all three of them, “my wife.” He said this very quietly, as though the very thought scared him. “She wanted it. I said no, but she dragged the twins into it, and you know how persuasive those three can be. So, we ran off two months ago. The twins were the only witnesses. We thought we could trust them. I guess they were gotten to. But there’s something else you should know. She’s pregnant.” He let that bombshell drop in the room and waited for the dust to settle.
Finally, Hermione turned to face Harry and found her voice. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“We were waiting for a happier time. Actually, I’m not sure what we were waiting for.”
“And why,” pressed Hermione, “was she not under the Fidelius Charm after your wedding?”
“You know her. I can’t fight that kind of stubbornness. She wanted to fight, to be courageous, to ensure our child had freedom in the future. You know her. She’s never sat idly by and let others save her. But don’t worry,” he said in response to the look of horror that had overtaken Ron’s face, “I put some powerful protective spells on her and the baby, some ancient magic. You know how Voldemort loves to underestimate me. He won’t know what hit him. And I know Voldemort. He won’t kill or torture her. If he has her, chances are he knows about the baby and he would never give up the chance to keep my child for his own purposes, to manipulate.”
“Oh Harry!” Hermione wailed, running into his arms and giving him a rib-cracking hug. “What are we going to do?” she asked, pulling away.
“It was Malfoy. And Snape.”
“Wait, Lucius Malfoy?” asked Ron.
“No. That little prat, Draco. And to believe I actually felt sorry for that git! I thought he was suffering under threats. But the way Molly makes it sound, it’s like he wasn’t trying to hurt her, kind of like he was sorry…I don’t know.”
“Well,” Hermione began, “he could have been un—“
“—still under threat. I know,” Harry finished for her.
“At least she’s not in Lucius Malfoy’s hands,” Ron shot out vehemently. “I can’t imagine him touching my baby sister.”
“My wife,” Harry whispered.
Ron and Hermione looked at him again. Silence fell upon them for several long minutes. They just looked at each other, thinking the same thought, ‘I love her’. Husband, brother, and best friend just looked at each other, the seriousness of the situation weighing heavily on their hearts.
Finally, the best friend broke the silence. “So, what’s the crazy rescue plan this time?” she asked, a hint of attempted humor in her voice.
“What?” asked Harry. He was a little shocked at how intently they looked at him after she said that. “There is no plan. Okay, there is a plan. We find out where she’s being held, and by who. Then I storm it in full rage, leaving a trail of dead Death Eaters in my wake until I secure her. Then I get the two of us out, probably leaving more dead Death Eaters behind, and—“
Hermione was looked amused. Ron was looking a little confused.
“What do you mean, exactly, by ‘the two of us’” asked Hermione, a smile playing at her lips.
“You guys can help me find her, but I’m her husband, and it’s my job to secure and protect her. I go alone.”
Hermione actually started laughing.
Both boys looked at her like she had gone mad, but decided to ignore her.
“So, what’s the point of us being here?” Ron asked.
“To help me find her,” Harry said slowly. He’d thought they would understand. His patience was wearing thin, and Hermione’s laughter was doing nothing but annoy him even further. His annoyance with her, coupled with his anxiety over Ginny, his anger with Voldemort, and his stubborn will set on going after Ginny alone were pushing to the surface, adding to the lack of patience he was feeling in regards to his best friend’s objections to his plan. He was on the brink of a violent, emotional explosion.
Ron and Hermione felt an electric jolt shoot through them. Hermione immediately stopped laughing. The two instinctively moved together, backing away from Harry. Hermione leaned closer into Ron’s arms and he bent his head, whispering something in her ear. She looked reassured for an instant. Ron kissed her cheek.
Harry, enraged by the sight of their closeness and the lingering overly-friendly kiss, sent another jolt of electricity through them.
They both yelped and jumped apart, looking at their feet. Hermione chanced a glance at Harry and saw a fire burning in his eyes.
Words ran through his head; ‘betrayal of trust’ and ‘lies’ were the most prominent among them. Harry had been reassured a thousand times by the pair that they were just friends. But he had just seen something between the two of them that made him feel as though they were lying to him.
It wouldn’t be that hard to conceal, he thought. Everyone is so wrapped up in the war, and I’ve been so wrapped up in Ginny, that they could easily hide everything. How could they?! But another voice rose in his head that sounded just like Hermione. You and Ginny, you hypocrite. You two lied, so shut it.
Harry didn’t realize that he’d been mumbling, drawing the other two’s attention onto him. Although his mutterings were unintelligible to them, they guessed the subject.
“Harry,” said Hermione to the floor, “we meant to tell you. Please, don’t be mad with us. You and Ginny—“
“We kept out relationship secret too. I know. I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Mate…” began Ron.
“No. I’m sorry. I understand. You love each other. I know the feeling.”
They both chanced a glance at Harry to see him smiling sadly. He pointed at Hermione’s hand. “Nice ring. Must have cost a fortune.” Now the smile was wide and filled with joy. “When?” he asked.
“As soon as the war is over,” she said.
Harry grinned. “So I guess we’ll be celebrating three weddings the night Voldemort dies. You two, I’m happy for you. Me and Gin were thinking about announcing us the night he dies at a huge party. And Lupin and Tonks have said they’re getting married that night.”
Ron smiled weakly. He heard the hope in Harry’s voice. It was oddly reassuring to him. “So, mate,” Ron said, “when’s the next red-headed Potter due?”
Harry grinned. “Seven months and counting, mate. And how do you know it’ll be a read-head?”
“Just a feeling. It’s weird, your dad married a red-head too.”
“I know. Gin’s got my mum’s looks and eyes like my dad. I’ve got my dad’s looks and eyes like my mum.”
“It’s history repeating itself,” whispered Hermione.
“No,” said Harry. “Certain things are different. And no one is dying this time except Voldemort.”
He sounded so determined that Hermione didn’t press the point, but she couldn’t shake a sinking feeling. She decided to push it to the back of her mind.
“So,” said Harry, sounding serious again, “let’s go to Snape’s.”
“You know where he lives?” asked Ron in wonder.
“I’ve been there with Lupin a couple of times to pick up Wolfsbane.”
“When?” asked Hermione.
“A while ago. Before fifth year. And once last summer,” he answered mysteriously.
“So that’s where you were disappearing to,” said Hermione, sensing there was more to the story, but not being brave enough to ask, she let it slip to the back of her mind too.
“Let’s go,” said Ron. “And Harry, can you not be so rough when you guide us this time?” he added.
“Sorry about that,” he said, looking a little ashamed. “I was in a rush to get you out of there before Lupin and your mum showed up.”
“Forgiven,” said Hermione. She grabbed his left arm and Ron grabbed his right. Harry turned, feeling the two of them do the same as the familiar pressing sensation returned.