Healing The Wounds: Chapter 1

Tue, 01 Nov 2005 21:05:15 GMT

Title: Healing The Wounds
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Harry, Hermione. All the Weasleys are mentioned, as well as few other characters.
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Summary: The parting is drawing closer, and they have only one night to say their goodbyes. Nothing shall left unsaid and no wounds caused by recent tragedy shall remain unhealed.

There were probably no words that could describe the sorrow and mourning of inhabitants of the Burrow, as well as their guests. Conversations rarely occurred, and it seemed that everyone preferred to deal with their pain in silence. Cheerily orange room in the attic was seemingly avoided by all, yet in late night they could hear one of them silently creeping towards it. However once the sun was up, everyone would be back to their usual unspoken sadness.

Arthur was quiet and reserved, yet tears appeared in his eyes quite often while Molly was still crying her eyes out whenever she got the chance. Their children; Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and Ginny were silent like their father. They didn’t cry (except for Ginny), but each of them seemed to have grown older by at least five years after the tragedy. Even Percy had expressed his honest sorrow through the personal letter to Molly. Hermione, however, took it the worst. She hadn’t left her room for over a week now, and only Molly and Ginny were the only people who helped her to stay tied to the world. It was understandable, of course. No expected her to heal her wounds of losing Ron so quickly after he became hers.

They all suffered – that’s true, but probably no one else blamed themselves as much as did Harry Potter. Ron Weasley, his friend, his brother, was dead, and only he was to blame. It didn’t matter that it was Amycus Carrows, who sent the killing curse. It didn’t matter that it was Hermione, who Ron chose to sacrifice himself for. What really mattered was that both Ron and Hermione got involved into all this only because of him. He was responsible for Ron’s tragic faith and the danger Hermione Granger was placed in. These thoughts haunted Harry, and he knew he had to put a stop to future deaths of the ones he loved.

This late August night Harry wasn’t asleep. He sat on a bed in a room that had once belonged to Percy Weasley, gazing through the half-opened window. Open, half-packed trunk on the floor beside the bed declared that the boy was ready to go. He couldn’t stay and act as a threat to his only family. He just couldn’t. Sighing, Harry got up again and with a flick of a wand moved a pile of his clothes to the trunk. Plop. He paused for a moment, listening carefully for any sound that would let him know that any of the Weasleys or Hermione were awakened, but the silenced surrounded the house. Thud. Several books about Quidditch landed in the trunk as well, and Harry’s scattered thoughts touched yet another question that’s been worrying him for a while. Frankly, he didn’t know where to go. He wanted to meet Lupin before setting off, but he couldn’t intrude his life now that he was happily settled in Hogsmeade with Tonks. The option was off the list. Probably the best thing to do now was to go on the hunt for the Horcruxes and to get over with all this as soon as possible.

Suddenly Harry’s thoughts were somewhere else. Frozen to the spot, he listened carefully to the silent shuffling of feet just outside his bedroom and deep breaths, as if the person was trying to stifle sobs. It was no mystery, who that was, for Harry had been listening for Hermione leaving her room every night. He had never come out to meet her, though, but tonight he felt he had to talk to her for the last time before his journey. He had to apologize for everything, mostly for not saving Ron’s life.

Slowly and as silently as possible Harry slid through the door, entering the dark corridor. He could hear her already climbing up the stairs towards the former Ron’s room, and this didn’t help Harry much. He couldn’t bear to enter it just yet, but few silent sobs had him to think better of this. Taking few steps in a time, he followed his friend, who had already made it to the room and closed the door. Upon reaching it, Harry didn’t enter momentarily. He had to take several deep breathes to muster up courage to do so. He finally did. Reaching for the door knob, Harry opened it.

Hermione was crumpled on the floor, leaning against the bed. Her face was hidden in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking. The soft creek of door made her look up, and if scared, she sniffed and tried to brush of streaming tears. “Oh, Harry. It’s you.” She attempted to stand up but her legs didn’t obey her. She staggered against old chest of drawers and somehow regained her composure. “I couldn’t sleep,” – She explained feebly, looking everywhere but at Harry, as she continued rubbing her eyes furiously. Then an uncontrolled sob escaped her lips, and once again she fell to the floor, choking with the tears.

Harry didn’t exactly know how it happened, but it was only a matter of moment when he found himself kneeling on the floor next to the girl. Wrapping his arms around her, he drew Hermione closer, allowing her to sob onto his shoulder. Hermione didn’t protest; she snuggled to his chest, her breathing easing down, yet tears still streaming. “Thank you,” – she murmured so silently, that Harry barely heard her. He nodded without any words, and when she laid her head on his shoulder again, Harry placed a soft kiss on the top of her head before Hermione dozed off.

Writing my life away...

Healing The Wounds: Chapter 1