Change Comes From Words

All previous disclaimers apply.


“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Harry was yelling even as he kicked open the door to the room Hermoine and Viktor shared at The Burrow. The room that had once been Ginny’s. After Snape had betrayed them all, killed Dumbledore, and gone back to Voldemort Grimauld Place had no longer been safe for any of them. Snape knew how to get in, was accepted by the house. There was no way they could stay there anymore. Not until the war was over and every last Death Eater locked up or dead, anyway. And so The Burrow, which Snape had never cared about enough to learn the location of, had become the new headquarters for the Order, with as many magical protections that all of them could think of placed upon it to keep it hidden and safe.

Harry was so angry he couldn’t see straight, couldn’t think straight, couldn’t be embarrassed at all as a very naked Viktor rolled off of the bed in his surprise and Hermoine grasped for the sheet to wrap it around herself to cover her own nudity. Viktor stood sheepishly, pulling on a pair of loose fitting pajama bottoms. Hermoine simply sat in the middle of the bed, gasping the sheet to her chest, and glaring at Harry with eyes whose anger matched his own. Viktor leaned over and placed a kiss to her cheek even though she didn’t even look at him as he did so.

“Be kind and patient,” he murmured in his native language, stroking her hair, “We have been expecting this, yes? We knew it would happen. Be kind and patient. He is confused. I will be downstairs with Arthur and Molly if you need me.” He closed the door gently behind him when he left, leaving the two old friends still staring off with each other, both of their chests heaving in anger.

“Bloody hell, Harry,” Hermoine broke first, her eyes softening as she tucked the sheet more sturdily around herself so that she didn’t have to hold it anymore, “You sure picked an opportune time.”

“You knew about this, Hermoine, didn’t you?” he demanded again, holding up the letter.

She simply held her hand out for it. He crossed the room, set the letter in her hand, and crossed his arms as he waited for her to read it. Her eyes filled with tears as they darted back and forth over the words that had rocked Harry’s world so greatly. She set an hand to her mouth and held back a sob.

“Oh, Ron,” she whispered, “You did tell him.” She looked up at Harry, “I . . .” her voice broke and she started again, “I knew about his . . . his feelings for you, yes. But not this letter. He never told me about this letter. I told him so many times to tell you, but he never could. So, I guess he’s told you the only way he thought he can now. Why are you so angry, Harry? Why? He loved you! He loved you with all his heart and he would have done anything to protect you! Are you angry because of that love? Because you feel it could be tainted? Because he was a man? How could he be tainted when you yourself . . . and Cedric . . . and . . .”

“Don’t say that,” Harry felt tears in his own eyes, “Don’t you ever say that!” He took hold of her wrist to hold her still and pulled back his arm. When she shrunk away he realized what he was about to do, and with a strangled cry, pushed her back on the bed. He whirled around and knocked everything from the dresser. He tore across the room like a man possessed, destroying anything he could. Beautiful little figurines shattered into a million pieces, books were torn form their bindings. Tears streamed down his face, blinding him, as pushed over a sitting chair, punched the mirror until it shattered into a million pieces on the floor and his hands were bloodied. He didn’t feel the pain in them, or in his knees, as he sank to the floor among the glass. Then, something he had not done since he had returned to the Triwizard Stadium with Cedric’s body in tow. Harry Potter began to sob. Great gasping cries and howls that he could not keep in. All his pain, all his anger, every thing he had been holding in for two and a half years. Everything came out in the great, almost childlike sobs.

“Harry,” Hermoine fell to her knees next to him in the glass and pulled him into her embrace as tears rolled down her cheeks as well, “Harry,” she began to rock him, unable to form any more words, just cooing in an attempt to calm as he howled and raged in her arms, clinging to her, grasping on to the one steady thing in his ever changing world.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed that way. It could have been minutes or hours before his cries slowed and gentled until they were just mewling hurts.

“Why are you so angry, Harry?” Hermoine whispered, needing to know the reasons Harry had come bursting through her door, ready to strike at even her.

“No one ever told me,” Harry murmured around his gasping breaths as he tried to draw air into his lungs after so large an emotional draining, “No one ever told me a damn thing. So long. Did you see the date on the letter, Hermoine? A year before . . . ” he trailed off.

“Longer than that,” Hermoine looked him in the eyes as her voice shook.

“How long?” he asked.

“Sixth year. Just after he broke it off with Lavender. It was the first time he told me.”

“Three years.” Harry felt the tears come again, “And he never told me. So much time wasted, ‘Moine. Because I was too much the coward to go to him and tell him just how much I wanted him. Just how much I loved him. So many times I wanted to! So many times, but I thought . . . and then Viktor came back . . . and I still didn’t go to him because I was such a coward!” He was sobbing again and clinging to her like a life line and he didn’t care in the slightest, “After Cedric I thought there could never be anything like what I felt with him. But . . . Ron, always there, always willing to be my best friend no matter how I acted. I didn’t want to fall in love with him, but there he was. All the time! And one morning I woke up and there it was. I was in love with my best friend, with all his faults and all of his quirks. And it was so much more than Cedric and I couldn’t tell him!”

“Harry,” Hermoine pulled him closer and began to rock again, her own tears starting again, “Harry . . . shh . . . shh, love . . . Harry, love . . .” It didn’t matter what she was saying, not to him and not to her, she just couldn’t stay silent as he continued.

“Every day I saw him, I wanted to hold him. Every time he mourned I wanted to mourn with him, to kiss away his tears. I knew his every breath, his every thought, all except this. And now . . . now it’s all too late! Every moment is agony. Like a dagger sticking itself into my heart. And I want him back, ‘Moine! I want him back so bad! I can’t live without him! I need him! I need him in my arms, in my life. I need him, ‘Moine. I love him so much!”

“He’ll find a way back to us,” Hermoine rocked him slowly as both of their tears stopped, run dry, “He’s not gone to us, Harry. Just a little bit lost. We’ll help him find the way home. Home to friends and family . . . and love.” She pushed him out at arm’s length and cupped his face in her hands, “It is not too late, Harry Potter, and I am never to hear you say that again. It’s never too late. Not for love. We’ll help him find his way home so that you can tell him everything in your heart.”

Harry looked into her resolved eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded.

“I love you, Hermoine Granger.”

“And I you, Harry Potter.” They both smiled around swollen, red eyes, heads that pounded, and noses so stuffed they felt swollen to the size or oranges. Hermoine reached out with the corner of the sheet in her hand and wiped the last tears away from Harry’s eyes.

“Hermoine?”

“Yes, love?”

“It’s a good thing I’m not into women.” She cocked her head to the side, questioning, “Because you’d be very tempting right now if I were.”

She looked down and gasped, realizing that at some point while she was holding him the sheet had come loose and she was now kneeling before him in nothing but her own skin, the sheet pooled around her. She was stunned into speechlessness and snatched it up to tuck around her self once more.

“Come on,” Harry stood and winced at the pain of the glass embedded in his palms and knees, knowing that Hermoine’s knees were in the same condition, “Let’s go have Molly perform a healing charm. I wouldn’t trust either of us to do it right now.” Hermoine nodded and took his offered hand gingerly so as not to cause him any more pain.

“We are going to help Ron find a way back to us,” she whispered as they walked down the hall, fingers loosely entwined.

Harry nodded, “Bet your ass we are.”


Next Chapter: Quest