Four Blocks of Complication | K-11 | 3/3

[Crepe]

Title: Four Blocks of Complication
Author: Crepe
Pairings: For you to find out.
Rating: K-11
Genre: Romance, angst, EWE
Warnings: Might contain some shocking elements/heavy text if you’re very sensitive. I don’t want to warn more specifically because I don’t want to ruin any surprises. Reading at one’s own peril.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world that I write about, there is no profit made with this.
Summary: “He didn’t like the way the most normal things in his life had suddenly become the most abnormal. Everything was upside down and so bloody difficult.”
A/N: So this fic has three chapters and they’re all ready but I thought I wouldn’t post them at once. Please, please let me know what you think. And I still haven’t found myself an English beta because I don’t exactly know where to look for one, so I’m sorry for all the mistakes.

Osallistuu Yhtyeen tuotanto –haasteeseen Tegan and Saran biiseillä Hell, Burn Your Life Down ja Walking With a Ghost. Kuunnelkaa ne!



Four Blocks of Complication

Chapter 1: Hell

A/N: This chapter is based on Tegan and Sara’s song Hell.

No, I'm not ready for a big bad step in their direction
No, I'm not ready for downtown trash, avoid collection
Four blocks, run and hide
Don't walk alone at night
Cityscape, city change before they die
Four blocks, I should mention in a song
If I want to get along with change
Who doesn't want to change this?

I know you feel it too
These words get overused
When we get up and over it and over them
Up and over it and over them
I know you feel it too
It all seems so untrue
When you get up and over it and over them

No, we're not ready for a fair distribution
Just a terminal solution for
No, we're not ready for hell
Hell no, for hell, hell no
Four days wide awake,
Why slide along and say
Girl's afraid, girl will change, just move away
Four days that I mention in a song move along
Get ahead, get her hand and bring her with you

Four ways to remove all the bad that we do
From the heart and the soul of the cities sad and cold
Four ways to collect what we say and what we save
To discard and discover a brand new way

I know you feel it too
These words get overused
When we get up and over it and over them
Up and over it and over them
I know you feel it too
It all seems so untrue
When you get up and over it and over them
Up and over it and over them


“That’s true, it was hilarious!” Ron laughed. “Did you see his face when he was hanging from the broom with only the robes attached to it? I was watching with the Omniculars and it was priceless. Couldn’t imagine that his eyes could get any bigger!”

Harry laughed until his eyes started to water. “Yeah, I saw it. I replayed it home for like ten times and once I accidentally turned the volume up and do you know what I heard him screaming at the top of his lungs? Mummy!”

“No way!” Ron cracked up even harder and for a while they were just a bunch of hysteric laughter getting support from the other sides of the table they were sitting at, in Ron and Hermione’s cozy combined dining and living room.

“Boys!” Hermione exclaimed from where she was sitting beside Ron, watching her boyfriend and best friend getting all the more drunk and keeping a disapproving face which was honestly all for nothing. Not that she wasn’t really feeling more amused than anything. “I can’t believe you’re laughing your heads off for someone nearly getting seriously injured.”

“Oh please, Hermione”, Ron smiled, and hiccoughed, “Colin wasn’t in real danger or anything, don’t you know how good the security is in Quidditch pitches nowadays? And besides, it was yesterday so it’s okay to joke about it today!”

Hermione shook her head unbelievingly. “Well, there’s a moral way to justify it.”

Harry took a large gulp of his beer. “You’ve got to admit it, Mione, it was very funny.”

“Well… I wasn’t really watching that closely”, Hermione replied a little sheepily.

Ron let out a mock-frustrated sigh. “Oh, the tragedy! I can’t believe I have a girlfriend who doesn’t understand Quidditch at all.” He focused his eyes at Harry with some effort. “It’s just a shame we couldn’t get seats next to each other. Although you and your date seemed to have a good enough time without us.” Ron smiled knowingly and winked.

Harry’s smile faltered. “You know me and Gin are not together anymore.” He kept his eyes carefully away from Hermione.

Ron sighed and drank the rest of his beer. “I know. Gin keeps telling me that it’s none of my business and it’s not but… You just get along so well so I can’t understand what the problem is. It’s fine by me. But you can’t blame me for, you know, wanting to keep you in the family…”

Harry felt like someone had slapped him hard in the face and poured something ice-cold and painful into his veins. He kept his eyes averted from Hermione and found he couldn’t look at Ron, either, so he grabbed his bottle and pretended to study the label while trying to form a normal response, Merlin, anything he could say to that.

Turned out he didn’t have to because Hermione decided to interfere; “But Ron, Harry will always be family, no matter what.”

Harry’s eyes snapped up to see Ron turn a surprised look at Hermione, and then smile gently. “Of course.”

He then turned to look at Harry who looked away but pulled a smile that he hoped to resemble real. “Thanks”, he croaked. He really wanted to change the subject before his emotional turmoil really took over. He still couldn’t look at Hermione.

“Hey, mate, seems like you’re out of beer”, Ron said suddenly. Thank fucking heavens, a change of subject. “So am I. Wanna move to Firewhiskey?”

Harry turned his head to left to look out of a small window but could see nothing but darkness. He should probably go home already but it was so late and raining outside and he hated to Floo and was too drunk to Apparate and nobody was waiting for him and he was running out of excuses. He just really didn’t want to go and rather spent the time with his best friends, no matter what.

“Yeah, why not.”

*

Two hours later they were drunker still and Harry was crouching on the sofa with a slightly spinning head, feeling relaxed and happy. The nights at Ron and Hermione’s were always the best he ever had. It was a safe place where he could forget the mundane and regress to being a child again if he so wished.

That was something he and Ron were good at. Harry always felt amused for how Ron completely lost all his awkwardness and even became giddy and affectionate after drinking a little. And he rarely drank little.

The same went with Harry as for the giddy-part. He had always been bad at showing and receiving affection.

The Firewhiskey-bottle was hanging almost empty from Ron’s hand as he was sitting beside Harry and laughing at him.

“Look at you, Harry. Don’t you know how to drink within reason?”

“I don’t know what you talkin’ ‘bout”, Harry mumbled, “You practically forced all that liquid down my mouth.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go on with the story about the dragon and the firemen”, Hermione giggled from her seat on an armchair, “I hate to admit this but I’ve had my share of wine, too, and I’m absolutely knackered. I can’t keep up with it anymore.”

“I couldn’t get it to begin with”, Ron frowned and appeared to have real problem thinking anything too deeply, “Why would anyone squirt water at a dragon? A fool would know it does no good.”

Harry closed his eyes and Hermione sighed. “Oh, don’t even go there. You’re too drunk, the pair of you.” Harry heard her get out of the chair and stretch. “I’m going to get some well-needed sleep.”

She walked to them and he heard her say “Goodnight, love” and kiss Ron on the cheek. Then Harry felt a soft hand on his face. It lingered there for maybe a bit longer than it should have and he pressed his cheek against it, taking in the familiar scent. Then it was gone and Harry was left with his head still spinning from the alcohol and Ron warm and as drunk beside him.

“I’m so tired”, Harry yawned. His cheek was tingling but he was way too wasted and happy to be thinking of the unwelcome thoughts that haunted him at daytime. Without thinking, he let his body slide to a lying position on the couch and found his head on Ron’s lap.

“So I see”, Ron laughed softly. A hand landed on his messy hair, not stroking but just lying there. Hmm, this is strange, Harry wondered but forgot it immediately. “You should get yourself to the spare bedroom”, he heard Ron say.

“In a minute”, Harry mumbled and drifted off to peaceful sleep.

*

When Harry woke up, he felt a fleeting confusion surging through him but when he tried to move, it was replaced with a wave of nausea and he was forced to lie still and keep his eyes closed.

Whoa, easy, he thought to himself and cringed because of his hammering head. Where the hell am I and why do I feel like I’ve been hit by a train?

When the worst need to throw up was over and he was no longer convinced that he actually was in hell, his mind began to work. Right, alcohol. Too much of it, obviously. And unsurprisingly.

Harry sighed and stretched a little and felt a warm and soft blanket wrapped around him. Did I ever actually get to bed yesterday?

That question was answered by simply opening his eyes. Morning light was filling the room and hurting his eyes but it was easy to notify he was still on his friends’ living room couch. He couldn’t really remember the last moments of the night but it seemed that Hermione had taken care of him as always and equipped him with the blanket and a comfortable pillow. There was also a small table next to the couch with a glass of water, his glasses and something else on it.

Hangover potion! The stairway from hell straight to heaven!

Harry drowned the potion in one go and just sat for a long while on the couch with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, staring at the window giving to the silent street that was bathing in the light of a seemingly calm Saturday morning, and thinking of the state he had once again driven himself into. He should really get a grip of his life.

Every day he made a bigger mess of his mind and his heart. And now he had included one of the only people he felt safe with into that mess. Or maybe it had always been like that, maybe it had always loomed in his subconscious and now he just knew. And he didn’t know how to make it better.

Harry heard noise from the kitchen so he got up and, escorted by a long sigh, walked into the hallway. Seconds later, Hermione emerged from the opposite door with a steaming cup and seeing Harry, almost spilled tea on her overlarge t-shirt. Harry’s eyes snapped involuntarily to her bare legs but he looked immediately back up.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. “So you are still here. The guest room bed seemed untouched and I worried that you had gone home last night after all.”

“What?” Harry asked, surprised. “But…” he turned to look back in the living room, “I… Yeah, I guess I passed out on the couch…” he finished, feeling confused.

He looked into Hermione’s eyes and they actually held each other’s gaze, for the first time in days. It was dead-silent but the air was heavy with unsaid words, questions and explanations, reluctant apologies. Then there were footsteps on the stairs and they both snapped back into reality.

“Morning, Mione. Harry”, Ron said, sounding tired, when he turned his eyes to look at him, “So you’ve survived, then.”

Harry looked at him, and her, then at the floor. “I… Yeah”, he succeeded to say. The last of the Saturday morning calmness was banished from inside of him and he felt guilty and miserable. Ron was standing there, always the good friend and what was his response for his caring? Falling in love with his girlfriend.

“I should go”, he said, trying to sound casual, grabbed his cloak from the rack and turned to face the door.

“Why don’t you stay for breakfast?” Ron asked. Harry grabbed the door handle and turned to look at him over his shoulder.

“No, thanks, mate. I should get going already. See you”, he smiled with difficulty and left.

Harry walked slowly away from his friends’ house, feeling the breeze of the cool autumn air and kicking the trash on the sidewalk. He was outside now but the walls were still closing in. He despised himself and his behavior and he hated the dirty, silent streets that he had to walk alone, instead of staying.

No matter how much he felt at home where had just left from, it was never his home and he needed to finally let it sink in. There were always the four blocks separating him and them.

The four long blocks of loneliness. Harry fastened the cloak around his neck and walked faster.

*

Sooner or later, though it felt more like the latter, the dull weekend was over and the working week started to roll on. Harry went on with his routines and hectic work as a newly-graduated Auror. He had no reason to visit his friends for a few days and he knew they were busy, too. He remembered the meaningful look in the hallway and wondered if Hermione would in fact want to avoid him as much as she could.

But on Wednesday morning, after four days of sleeping badly and replaying the short scene like with bloody Omnioculars, he received and owl asking him for dinner. He only had a couple of minutes to think because he needed to hurry to work so he answered in the affirmative and spent his day with weird, dreadful anticipation.

He didn’t like the way the most normal things in his life had suddenly become the most abnormal. Everything was upside down and so bloody difficult.

When he was back home and it was time to go, it was raining again. Why did it always rain when he was going to go to Ron and Hermione’s? He decided to walk anyway, put on a warm cloak and grabbed an umbrella from the cupboard.

Two blocks away Harry rounded a puddle of water and then looked up from the road. A young woman with a blue coat and a red umbrella was walking towards him and he had no difficulty recognizing her so he stopped to wait.

“Hi”, Hermione said and stopped a couple of meters away from Harry, “I thought I’d meet you halfway and… we could walk together.”

“Oh”, Harry replied and stared at her, his heart hammering painfully, “Alright.”

They started to walk in silence and after a while, Hermione started: “Look, Harry –“

“Hermione…” Harry cut off silently. He stopped walking and put out an arm to stop Hermione, too. They turned to face each other and Harry couldn’t read her expression.

It was Harry who had kissed her a week or so ago and he knew that she would never make the first move and he shouldn’t either, but she was standing there, close, with her hair fluffy in the rainy weather and brown eyes shining, and looking like everything Harry could ever want.

So he took her hand, stepped closer and closed the distance between their lips. Hermione didn’t object and her lips were cool and so soft. Harry pulled her closer and finally she started to respond. Their tongues met and they pressed together and kissed intensely for a minute, before Hermione pulled out hurriedly.

“No – you can’t”, she breathed and her hands fidgeted around the umbrella handle, “I’m sorry, Harry”, she said before turning away and starting to walk briskly towards home.

Harry stared at her withdrawing back and felt completely, utterly unhappy. He had known from the moment he had acknowledged his feelings that it would be hell, no matter which way things would go. He knew now she felt it, too, and it was still hell.

But as he stood there in the rain, alone, cold and completely directionless and watched her getting further away, he couldn’t help but feel he would’ve much preferred it if she’d stayed.

[Crepe]

Chapter 2: Burn Your Life Down

A/N: Apparently no one even reads this fic so I might as well post the second chapter already. This is… well, a very important chapter to me. I hope that if you do read this, you’ll just leave a comment, no matter what kind of or how long. I’d like to know your thoughts. / Suomeksikin saa luonnollisesti kommentoida.
And oh yeah, this chapter is based on Tegan and Sara’s Burn Your Life Down. I really recommend listening to it while reading.

Tell me that you know another way to get it done
It's not me, or how I would be, but it's a different situation
You lay awake in the night just staring at the ceiling above
Pulling pieces of it out, it's such a waste of time

Keep on fighting to remember that nothing is lost in the end
When you burn your life down

Get me to the door, out of bed or on to track, I'm not sure
Starting over, it's a different situation
You wake up in the night, and refuse to be afraid of it now
unfolding pieces of it faster, don't you waste your time

You've been planning to remember this, so nothing will be lost in the end
Then you burn your life down

I drive around the block and I'm not looking to my right
I feel the glass against my cheek and I can't see you in the light
I break my heart around this


Hermione parked her car in front of Harry’s small two-storey house in the suburb they both lived in. It’s not like she really needed the car, especially with this distance, and mostly she did use magical transportations or walked, but they had got the little shabby car from Ron’s dad and it was full of silly little magical properties. For a couple of hours she’d been doing what she often liked to do when she was upset, which was to drive around without destination.

Sometimes she would dare even fly the thing, but only when she was with Ron or Harry.

Harry… Hermione finally got out of the car and leaned on its side, staring at her friend’s house in front of her. She really didn’t know how to phrase what she had to say, and to tell the truth, she hadn’t yet even decided what she wanted to say. For the first time in her life she felt like she had reached a complete dead end. She didn’t want to just back out and forget it all but what else could she do? If there was no way to move forward, she couldn’t just stay hanging in the dreadful situation.

What bothered her most was that she knew how utterly wrong it all was but, Merlin, how it had been able to feel so right at the same time, for the little while it had lasted. She felt all the symptoms she had had when she had fallen in love with Ron, years ago. And they were both so familiar to her, the two people she could never get tired of. The two men she had stood beside through light and dark times.

After the first kiss, she had longed for and looked forward to the next one, and when it had come yesterday, her world had shattered around her. Now she had to pick up the pieces and fix it the best she could. She had others’ than her own life to think about. She was doing harm.

Knowing that hardly made it easier to walk the steps to the door and knock on it, trying to smother the awakening panic and the will to run and hide and wait for someone else to sort things out for her. After all, it wasn’t really her kind of a thing to do.

She knocked but didn’t get an answer. The damn house didn’t even have a doorbell. Luckily she knew the password to Harry’s house so she looked around and as she didn’t see any Muggles, took her wand out of the pocket and whispered the spell. Seconds later, she was inside and looking around the ground floor. No sign of Harry, so he was probably on the first floor, if he was even home.

Hermione stopped to stand in the middle of the living room, staring at the simple furniture, and wrapped her hands around herself. She didn’t even know what Harry thought of her now. Maybe he was fed-up with her indecisiveness or angry with her for leading him on. Maybe he didn’t want her in his sight. It’s not like she’d been like a friend should be, lately.

She felt cold and scared but she wasn’t going to cry. She had cried enough already, all the night and whenever she’d found the time during the dreadful day she’d had.

She sighed, returned to the stairs and went upstairs. The bedroom door was closed so she knocked on it and walked in. Harry was sitting on the bed, flipping through a magazine and looking absolutely exhausted when he raised his eyes and looked at Hermione, surprised.

“I didn’t hear you coming”, he said awkwardly.

Hermione looked around the room which was a mess. The floor was full of clothes and abandoned books and the nightstands were filled with tea mugs.

“Have you been to work?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

“Yes”, Harry replied doubtfully.

“Have you actually slept at all?”

To that she didn’t get an answer so she looked at a far wall and swallowed hard. “Ron knows”, she whispered.

“No!” She turned her head to see Harry bury his face in his hands and cry out; “No, he can’t!”

Hermione watched the display, feeling stricken and miserable. He wasn’t crying but as far as she knew, the reaction in front of her was as good as falling apart for the strong man, the man who had been through hell in his young years and come out of it alive. It broke her heart to see him like this, rocking on the bed, seemingly desperate.

“Why?” he asked with a voice muffled by his hands.

“Well… Do you really think he didn’t wonder why you didn’t come last night, why I returned alone? And I was a bit – upset. And he thought you’d been acting weirdly and I don’t know, I tried to avoid the subject, I really did”, she insisted with a breaking voice, “but we ended up in this huge row and I just couldn’t lie and it came out and… I’m sorry.”

Harry’s face emerged from his hands and he looked even more tired, if possible. “That’s it then. Ha hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t”, Hermione said firmly.

“Hermione, how could he not!” Harry insisted exasperatedly.

“Well it’s not like I made you seem like the only evil in the story!” Hermione snapped and recoiled at her own angry voice. But it wasn’t like she wasn’t afraid she was going to lose it all. She had so much to lose and it scared her to death.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but we need to –“

“No. Please, don’t say it now. I don’t want to hear it.”

Hermione was going to argue but then she took a look at his face and he seemed genuinely terrified. Maybe this was all too much at once.

“Right. But I’m not just going to leave”, she insisted, “I’ll be downstairs… drinking tea.” She left the room.

When she was sitting at Harry’s kitchen table, spooning sugar in her tea distractedly, she thought how much she hated the way Harry wasted his life and lived it only half-fully. She thought of the bedroom that looked like he hardly left it and his appearance that looked like he hardly slept at all. She didn’t think it was only the worries of the previous week or so, she had the idea that it had lasted longer than that.

Hermione didn’t think that Harry had been happy for a long time. Maybe he had never really succeeded in it after the war. For a while he had been so grateful he had come back from the Forbidden Forest but he was a scarred man and it couldn’t be helped. He had been through too much too young and Hermione knew this because sometimes even she still woke up screaming from the nightmares.

He was too full of his past and even though he hated to reminisce it and never talked about the war, it lived with him every day. And it was like he had burnt everything in his life down behind him in order to get rid of it. He couldn’t be happy with Ginny anymore and he couldn’t find happiness elsewhere. Hermione hated to be unable to give it to him when she so much wanted to.

“I know what you’re going to say”, a silent voice said behind her and she jumped. She got up and turned to face Harry, who was standing in the doorway, looking resigned.

“Oh, Harry”, she said, “Look how you reacted to the thought of Ron hating you. You think it’s any easier to me?”

“Well, it’s not like he’s going to really leave you. You’ll get back to him immediately and you’ll live happily ever after”, Harry said bitterly.

“Don’t you try to make me feel any guiltier!” Hermione huffed. “I will always love you, Harry, but I love Ron, too! You act all martyr-like and I know life’s not been easy to you but it’s not been simple to me, either. I know, Harry, I lost the people, too, and I was always there for you!”

“I know, Hermione, I wasn’t underestimating you or your support during… all these years. But do you think it’s any easier for me to have you walk out on me now there are no dark wizards running around and trying to do me in?”

“God, Harry, did I say I was leaving you?” Hermione yelled, “It’s not like it’s the end of our friendship, no matter how much we both want something more from each other, so don’t you dare accuse me of leaving you all alone. It’s not the end of your life, either, you’ve just got to stop wasting your own time! You’ll forget about me in no time at all, I’m sure.”

Harry just stood there looking at her, silently telling there was no way for that, and the air around them was so devastated and heart-broken that suddenly Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She walked past Harry and out the front door. Tears were impeding her sight and she couldn’t help the sobbing sounds that came from her throat but the conversation wasn’t getting anywhere and she hadn’t wanted to have it in the first place.

They could talk about it when they were both over it. Because they had to get over it.

Hermione went into the car, slammed the door shut and started it right away. She started to drive away because she had to get away, she hated all the things she’d said to Harry, she hated the look he’d had in his face, she hated his stupid insistence and she hated herself for letting him go and she hated, hated, hated the whole horrible situation. She thought of Ron angry with her and Harry disappointed in her and she felt her heart breaking around it all.

Tears were flowing from her eyes and she reached to wipe them away while she turned around the block. The next thing she knew was the enormous crash and she was flying sideways through the car and the glass infiltrated the side of her face. For a moment she just saw light before there was nothing left but darkness.

[Crepe]

Chapter 3: Walking With a Ghost

A/N: So… This is the last chapter. Please let me know if you read this fic. So far I’ve never had as hard a time to write something. This chapter broke my heart just a little bit but I hope someone likes it anyway. It’s based on Tegan and Sara’s song Walking With a Ghost, and you really should listen to it while reading because it had a HUGE affection on the atmosphere. And if you wonder about the paradox between the lyrics and the story, my interpretation of the repetition of the “Out of my mind”-part is just the opposite – one tries to convince themself that the other person is out of their mind when in truth it’s impossible to achieve that. Anyway, thanks if you read this.

No matter which way you go
No matter which way you stay
You're out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind

I was walking with a ghost
I said please, please don't insist
I was walking with a ghost
I said please, please don't insist

No matter which way you go
No matter which way you stay
You're out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind

I was walking with a ghost
I said please, please don't insist
I was walking with a ghost
I said please, please don't insist

No matter which way you go
No matter which way you stay
You're out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind

I was walking with a ghost
I was walking with a ghost
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
You’re out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind
Out of my mind

I was walking with a ghost
I was walking with a ghost
I was walking with a ghost
I was walking with a ghost
I was walking with a ghost
I was walking with a ghost

Ron was standing by a hole in the earth on a foggy, cold morning, and it was like the same fog and coldness that had taken over his mind. Someone was speaking meaningless things in a monotone voice but he didn’t hear it because his ears were full of the silence coming from the grave. People were crying and he hated them all. He never knew he could be so full of cold hatred but he didn’t care, because all that he cared about had vanished.

His life had drained out of him and was getting buried in that muddy, disgusting ground. Everything had ceased to make sense. Every second ticked by him, pointless and unmoving. The minutes, hours and days melted into each other and made no difference to the reluctant beating of his heart. Every face he saw was clouded by ugliness and their words were a stream of unimportant trash. He couldn’t eat because all the food tasted like that dirty ground, turning to ashes in his mouth. He couldn’t sleep because waking up felt emptier than anything.

Ginny appeared beside him, crying a hopeless, endless stream of tears. “I c-c-an’t believe she would die like this, in a car crash – after all she s-s-survived of in the war, it’s so stupid –“

“Shut up, Ginny!” Ron growled. “What the fuck does it matter how and when she died, the result’s the same, she’s utterly, definitely, endlessly fucking completely DEAD and she’s NEVER GOING TO COME BACK!” he shouted and everyone lapsed into a shocked silence, except for a few sobs. He didn’t care about any of the eyes staring at him; they didn’t mean anything to him.

Except for the one pair of them and he wished they would just go away and leave him alone because every desperate look of those green eyes felt like a painful stab into his numb, beaten heart and he just couldn’t take it.

He couldn’t take any of it anymore. He started to clear his way through the masses of people, out of the graveyard, in the middle of the ceremony. He walked fast in the direction of the forest, wanting more than anything to leave them all behind him.

Just when he thought he might be at a safe distance, he heard footsteps running behind him.

“Wait! Ron, wait”, Harry pleaded and Ron turned around, furious and horrified of what the other man might have to say.

“What do you want?!” he snarled. Harry stopped a few meters away from him and tried to catch his breath. His eyes looked as pained and hollow as Ron felt.

“I need to talk to you about –“, he started.

“NO!” Ron yelled. “I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY TO ME, I DON’T CARE, I DON’T NEED TO KNOW, I – DON’T – NEED – YOU!!” he shouted so loudly that his throat hurt and he knew he sounded insane but he still couldn’t make himself care one bit.

“I just want to you to get away from me and LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” he finished with a last shout and turned to run away. Out of sight, out of mind, out of sight, out of mind… Please just leave me alone…

He ran deeper into the forest until his legs hurt from running. Everything in him was suddenly hurting like never before. His throat hurt from the shouting, his head hurt from the fury, his eyes hurt from the tears he kept holding back and his heart was the worst of all.

He could almost feel Hermione’s presence. The surroundings smelled like her when she had just got out of shower, the wind on his face like her breath when she was just about to kiss him, the ruffle of leaves her voice, talking to him, trying to soothe him but only making him angrier.

He could see her sitting on the big rock he was walking towards, with black trousers and the blue coat on, brown hair on a long, careless plait. He stopped in front of her and looked her in the eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” he whispered. “I hate you for leaving me.”

“Oh honestly, Ron, do you really think the hatred is going to help anything?”

“What else have I got left?! You’re lying in a fucking grave, mildewing away and all I have is a silent house full of memories. Hell, I didn’t even know we had that many memories…”

Hermione tilted her head and gazed at him with that serious look of hers. “Well, you would have something left if you didn’t insist on getting rid of it.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked suspiciously.

“First of all, you could be honest with what you do and don’t need.  You’ll never know the truth if you keep lying to yourself.”

“But I don’t want to know the truth! I just want to get you out of my head ‘cause I can’t stand the way you still fill every inch of my being. If you had to leave, why don’t you just leave!”

And then she did. He was left with nothing but the wind, the trees and the too bright morning light keeping him company in the lonely forest. And he didn’t feel the least bit better.

*

Harry was walking in the rain alone, the guilt pushing deeper into his veins with every step he took along the familiar streets, along the four blocks of deepest heartbreak, making the rain feel foreign on his skin, and the beating of his heart undeserved.

He’d thought he’d known hell, he’d thought he’d known what loss felt like. He’d thought he’d known true loneliness. The truth was it was nothing like not having parents you never knew, nothing like losing someone you considered a father for two years, nothing like seeing people you hardly knew dying around you.

The guilt didn’t even come close to this. The hurt reached deeper levels than he knew to exist inside of him. The sense of loneliness was messing with his head and the longing in his heart driving him crazy.

He couldn’t forget, not for a second, the last words he had shared with Hermione, the stupid fight over nothing when compared to this. Hermione had died angry with him, she had died because of being angry with him. She had died unhappy, hating him, and he was left loving her, loving and regretting, and hating himself so painfully much.

And he had let her go thinking he was angry with her when truthfully, she had just voiced the only solution he’d known to exist all along. Hermione, always the voice of reason. He had just been too upset, rolling around in his own self-pity, so bloody inconsiderate of her feelings. She hadn’t even had the time make things alright with Ron before the stupid car came apparently out of thin air, crashing in the most unwelcome place imaginable. She had died immediately, long before any doctor or Healer could come to her aid. So suddenly, so unexpectedly. So unfairly.

Harry stopped in the familiar corner, halfway through the four blocks of hell, where he had last held her soft hand in his, her lips in his, days ago. Everything was so familiar, it was even raining, but things couldn’t have been more different to the way they had been. It was useless, pointless and selfish to go on.

He turned to go back but something made him stop. He knew it was just his mind and his heart playing tricks on him, knew it was no more real than a dream but still he saw Hermione walking towards him, with the same blue coat and the red umbrella. She was smiling sadly at him when she stopped in front of him.

“I love you and I’m sorry”, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, however ridiculous it was.

“I know you do. And you shouldn’t turn away.”

Harry’s heart ached like someone had it on chokehold and his insides were lead. “Please, Hermione, don’t insist. You’re not here anymore and I can’t go on with you lingering in my presence like this.”

“Oh, Harry, don’t be stupid. I didn’t mean from me. I will be gone in a minute. But what will you have left if you turn back the other way now?”

Harry stared at the image in front of him, hoping to get forgiveness from it but as he reached out, she disappeared like she had never been there. And she probably hadn’t.

He needed to get forgiveness somewhere else, or at least try. He continued walking, hopefully in the right direction.

*

The hours still had no meaning to Ron. The fact that it was night just meant that it was as dark outside their – his – windows as in his heart. He measured time by its ache, hoping against all hope that if it went fast enough, the hurting would ease a bit. Even just a bit.

What he didn’t expect was that with the change of the time of day the doorbell would ring. He dreaded to open it for he couldn’t stand someone coming to keep him pitiful company, trying to distract his thoughts or even worse, talking about what happened. He was still angry with the entire world and all he could possibly want was to be left alone, be just the two of them when there was still something left of her.

He went to open the door, anyway. On his doorstep was Harry, soaking wet and looking exhausted.

“I know you hate me and don’t want to hear what I have to say but I just need you to know that she –“

That was as far as he got before Ron joined him on the doorstep and enclosed him in a tight embrace. Harry let out a surprised breath but then pulled the other man even closer into his arms, burying his face in the other’s neck, and held on as tightly as he could, feeling safe and grounded for the first time in a long eternity and never wanting to let go.

“I’m so sorry –“

“No, I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you like that –“

“- I didn’t mean it before -“

“It doesn’t matter –“

“- I was so afraid –“

“I know, you don’t need to say anything, you don’t have to explain, please”, Harry whispered roughly in his ear and stroked the red hair gently but firmly, “I know, I know…”

Ron sighed against him and finally extracted himself. He looked at his best friend and noticed that they were both extremely wet now. “Come in, Harry.”

*

After a while, they were both sitting on the couch, warm and dry, still sadder than ever but feeling maybe just a little bit better.

“It was horrible, Harry, the other day. We had a huge row and she left. And she had just – told me that she was in love with you. I thought I’d lost you both, to each other”, Ron said, voice just barely holding together, “It was the last thing we saw of one another, yelling, and arguing…”

“I know, Ron, it was the same with me. She left and died angry with me. But Ron, she had just ended it between us. She loved you. She wanted to be with you.” He lowered his gaze, feeling ashamed. “And I never wanted to hurt you, either. It wasn’t planned or anything… And I’d really never, ever had taken her away from you.”

“It hurts like hell, Harry.”

“I know.”

They sat silent for a while, until Harry looked back up again. “And Ron… We lost her. But”, he took Ron’s face in his hand so he’d meet his gaze, “you could never just lose me. Not without wanting it and maybe not even then.”

They looked at each other for a while and then, without thinking, just because he really wanted to, Ron took Harry’s face in his hands, too, and pressed their lips together.

Once again Harry was surprised but, he noticed, not in the least bit disgusted. It felt incredibly good and comforting so he replied to it. It was slow and simple and soon the two men were holding each other and holding on to the kiss, to the contact between them, to the solace and warmth. And Harry felt his walls come crashing down.

He pulled his mouth away but stayed pressed against Ron and started to sob uncontrollably. Ron kept hold of him and Harry felt tears dropping on himself, too.

“I killed her, Ron”, he managed to get out the thought that had been destroying him the most for days. “I really killed her.”

“Harry, you’re barking”, Ron mumbled, “That’s always been your biggest problem, blaming yourself for things that were not your fault. You didn’t kill Sirius or Dumbledore, nor did you kill Remus or Tonks or – or Fred. And you most certainly did not kill Hermione.”

And Harry wanted to believe his words so badly, he wanted to, so he let himself be cradled in the belief, even if just for a moment. And he could finally get some sleep, when he drifted off consciousness, not for the first time, in Ron’s safe warmth.

*

When he woke up, he was lying alone on the couch and it was still dark outside. The first thing he felt was the now familiar sorrow for Hermione’s absence but attached to that was a new worry. Maybe they had gone too far at night, in their unbalanced states. Harry wanted to believe it was alright but he also didn’t want it to be insignificant.

Harry got up from the couch and walked to the hallway. He opened the kitchen door carefully and found Ron sitting by the table, his back to him and in a crouching position. He looked so devastated and Harry suddenly felt bad and nervous. He was afraid he had no way of making him feel better. How could he have when he was so broken down himself?

“Ron…” Harry said softly.

“Yeah”, the other man replied. He got up and Harry was so afraid of what was to come but when Ron turned around, Harry’s eyes asking ‘Don’t send me away’ met the ‘Don’t leave’ in Ron’s. And Harry closed the distance insecurely, like he had with Hermione, and wrapped his arms around him. Their eyes met and Harry felt nervous. How could it have been so easy earlier when now he didn’t know what to do?

Slowly, fearing he’d be rejected, he pressed his mouth against Ron’s. Ron replied eagerly and they kissed, properly this time.

It was amazing and warm, familiar and new. It was like they could taste Hermione in each other and it felt good but at the same time they were just Harry and just Ron and even if they missed someone else, too, it wasn’t because they weren’t enough for each other but because it was Hermione and they had come to love her so dearly.

Harry ran his hands over Ron’s back and they kissed intensely, and Ron decided to confess. He broke the kiss. “It’s not just the situation, not just the comfort, not for me. I always felt bad when you left, I always preferred it if you stayed and – Merlin, it’s embarrassing, when you fell asleep the other night, I could just feel that way freely – and you were always one of us.”

“I know”, Harry replied, kissing him, “I see it now.” He wanted to say ‘Ron, you are my home, you both are’ but it sounded like too much at once and the situation was still so new, so instead he said: “I don’t think it could’ve been any other way... You two were always the closest to me. Only you have always been there. ”

“If we just hadn’t been so stupid… It could’ve been like that for ages and Hermione wouldn’t –“

“Don’t say that. Please”, Harry asked silently. “I guess… It might’ve still happened, some other way. To any of us. Someday.”

Ron leaned his head on Harry’s chest. Hermione’s death might have had caused something else, too. Harry didn’t think he and Ron would’ve felt so soon so comfortable around each other if their feelings hadn’t been just cruelly prioritized. That couldn’t really be considered as a silver lining, though, and it still hurt like hell.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to her being gone”, Ron said, his throat feeling tight.

Harry held on to him and thought about it. “I don’t think I even want to. I’ll never get her out of my mind and I prefer it that way.”

They imagined Hermione there in their company and the wrongness of it all made them still angry at the whole world. But at least they had each other so they might as well stay against it for the time being. And maybe Harry could stay, instead of walking the four blocks of separation. Be just the three of them, just like it really had always been.

[Carmilla]

En tiedä, mistä aloittaisin.

Mä olen huono antamaan palautetta ficeistä, joille itken. Ne on aina sellaisia, jotka oikeasti liikauttaa jotakin mussa eikä tunnu, että osaisin kertoa siitä tarpeeksi hyvin. Mutta ehkä jo se, että silmät tosiaan kyyneltyivät tätä lukiessa, kertoo aika paljon.

Pidän kauheasti henkilöhahmoistasi, etenkin Hermione on minusta ihana. Sininen takki ja punainen sateenvarjo ja sateesta kostuneet hiukset, ylisuuri t-paita, käden viivähtäminen poskella. Ja tykkäsin tietenkin muutenkin kuin ulkoisten söpöjen seikkojen takia. Minä tajuan ihan täysin, miksi Harry ja Ron molemmat rakastivat sitä tyttöä, kyllä minäkin niin tekisin. Ron ja Harry olivat myös minusta ehjiä ja kokonaisia ja omia itsejään ja jotenkin hyvin valloittavia.

Juoni ja aiemmat tapahtumat selvisivät herkullisesti vähän kerrallaan. Harryn ja Hermionen ensimmäisestä suudelmasta ei tiedetä heti, alussa ei edes tiedetä, että jokin on pielessä. (Mistä tuli mieleen, että Ron on aina hyvin suloinen juodessaan!) Ja muutenkin yllättäviä asioita tapahtui siellä täällä. Että Hermione tosiaan kuoli, pojat pystyivät sopimaan ihan suudelmiin asti (olet ihana, siinä vaiheessa rakastuin tähän aikas lopullisesti) ja koko tarina pettämisineen ja vaikeuksineen ja siinä, että ihastuu parhaaseen ystäväänsä, joka on yhdessä toisen parhaan ystävän kanssa ja kaikki väärinkäsitykset ja sotku ja suru ja pettymys ja vihakin aah voi ei. Minä pidin ihan hirveästi. Äärimmäisen kiehtova tarina, vaikka teemat eivät olleetkaan uusia (mikä olisi uutta?) ja minä luin tätä paikoittain melkein hengästyneenä.

Hermione jonkinlaisena haamuna kuolemansa jälkeen oli jännä ajatus. Kuuntelin tuota kappaletta samaan aikaan ja no. Se oli kuvaava. Minusta Hermione, joka tuli neuvomaan poikia ja auttamaan heitä sopuun oman kuolemansa jälkeen oli suloista. Ja oli hienoa, että Harry sitten uskalsi mennä Ronin luokse eikä sitten tullutkaan mitään sellaisia hirvittävän monimutkaisia ja katkeria riitoja, vaan luja halaus heti portailla ja keskustelu ja se suudelma.

He got up and Harry was so afraid of what was to come but when Ron turned around, Harry’s eyes asking ‘Don’t send me away’ met the ‘Don’t leave’ in Ron’s.

Musta tämä oli ihanan... en tiedä. Suloinen? Hengästyttävä? Jotakin sellaista. Ihana, että pojat sitten löysivät kuitenkin apua juuri toisiltaan ja tajusivat, että ne syvemmätkin tunteet olivat oikeastaan olleet olemassa aina ja että he ja Hermione kuuluivat kaikki kolme yhteen.

They imagined Hermione there in their company and the wrongness of it all made them still angry at the whole world. But at least they had each other so they might as well stay against it for the time being. And maybe Harry could stay, instead of walking the four blocks of separation. Be just the three of them, just like it really had always been.

Lopetus oli hyvin tyhjentävä, musta tuntuu, että olen kadottanut sanani jonnekin. Viimeisen lauseen lukiessani hengähdin ääneen. Se on kovin surullinen lause, tavallaan.

Tästä tuli katkonainen kommentti, kirjoitin tätä kauan ja tein kaikkea muuta välissä, mutta toivottavasti saat jotain irti kuitenkin. Minä pidin hirveästi, kiitos, Crapsi <3

[Crepe]

Carmilla: Vastaan sulle nyt viimeinkin. Ensinnäkin pitää sanoa, että kommenttisi merkitsi mulle tosi paljon. Olin siitä aivan ekstaasissa. Ensinnäkin se, että edes luit tämän ja vielä pidit niin paljon, että liikutuit kyyneliin asti... Ilahdutit mua todella paljon. Omiin teksteihinsä on vaikea suhtautua lukijan näkökulmasta, joten mä olen todella tyytyväinen, että tämä pystyy aiheuttamaan jossakussa samoja tunteita, joita itse koin kirjoittaessani. Kiitos niin paljon, että kerroit minulle!

Ihanaa, että pidit siitä, miten kirjoitin tämän trion henkilöhahmoina. Ymmärrän, mitä sanot Hermionesta ja on ihanaa, että tykästyit yksityiskohtiin, joihin en välttämättä edes itse kiinnittänyt niin suurta huomiota. Kyllä minäkin Hermioneen rakastuisin. Ylipäänsä muutenkin yksi asia, joka Pottereissa kiehtoo eniten on tämä trio ja sen dynamiikka. Siksi rakastuinkin tähän trioon "parituksena", kun ekan kerran luin, vaikken henkilökohtaisesti ikinä lue Harry/Ronia. Siksi kolmosluvun loppu olikin kaikista vaikein mulle kirjoittaa. Mutta kyllä ne sopii toisilleen, silloin kun on kaikista kolmesta kyse. Niin kuin tässä tietysti oli.

Hermionen kuolema on sellainen asia, johon en ole törmännyt kuin varmaan kahdessa ficissä - ja nämä kummatkin olivat samalta kirjoittajalta, yhdeltä lempificcariltani. Keskustelin tämän henkilön kanssa tästä asiasta, ja se herätti mussa kovasti tunteita, koska tajusin sen tuntuvan itselleni kuin eräänlaiselta tabulta. Harry voi kuolla ja jopa Ronin kuolemaa voi ficeissä lukea, se on surullista kummassakin tapauksessa ja on kiehtovaa lukea tarinoita siitä, miten niistä päästään yli. Mutta Hermione... Se tuntuu jotenkin tosi väärältä ja käsittämättömältä, jos ymmärrät mitä tarkoitan? Niinpä se asia on sitten pyörinyt päässäni ja olen miettinyt, että olisi mielenkiintoista lukea enemmän ficcejä siitä, miten hänen läheisensä selviäisivät siitä, vaikka se pahalta tuntuukin. Joten sitten kun kuuntelin näitä biisejä ja mietin tätä asiaa, niin juoni sitten syntyikin kuin itsestään. Oli kyllä ihan järkyttävää kirjoittaa Hermionen kuolemasta. Ahdisti kun kirjoitin kakkoslukua ja kun sain sen valmiiksi, oli pakko rynnätä järkyttyneille hermosauhuille, heh. Joskaan se ei ollut mitään verrattuna siihen, miltä musta tuntui kirjoittaa kolmoslukua. Huh. Anteeksi, jos selitän tässä vastauksessani liikaa tästä, mutta olet ensimmäinen ihminen, joka lukee tai ainakin kommentoi, niin teki mieli vähän keskustella, koska tämä ficci on mulle tärkeä. Olen siis tyytyväinen, jos sain jotakin näistä tunteista siirrettyä sunkin ruudun sille puolelle.

Olen myös todella kiitollinen, että tarinan Harry/Ron osuus oli mielestäsi onnistuneesti kirjoitettu, koska kuten sanoin, se oli mulle vaikeaa ja jouduin sitä pariin kertaan muokkailemaankin. Anyway, kiitos tuhannesti kommentistasi, Cerma. <3

[sikuriina]

Mä oon niin huono kommentoimaan, mutta oot niin mussukka, että väännän nyt vaikka väkisin jotain Ensinnäkin sä kirjoitat todella sujuvaa englantia, sitä oli ilo lukea. Monesti hyvät lähtökohdat kusee jo ihan siihen, että kielioppi ei ole hanskassa. Pidin siitä miten kirjoitit jokaisen hahmon, mutta etenkin Hermionen ja Ronin ajatukset koskettivat. Ja sä huijasit mut lukemaan elämäni ensimmäisen hetin Mut ei se mitään, koska Harry/Hermione toimi yllättävän hyvin.

Todella hienosti myös kuljetit tarinaa eteenpäin, etkä paljastanut kaikkia kortteja yhdellä kertaa. Se, mitä Hermionelle kävi, tuli mulle ihan puun takaa. Ihan ku joku olis läväyttäny päin näköä. Myös lopun katkeransuloinen Ron/Harry tuli yllätyksenä, mutta se oli todella tervetullut yllätys.

[Crepe]

Sikru: Hii kiitos, että tosiaan luit tämän ja kiitos kommentista! <3 Olen iloinen, että löysit tästä ficistä tykättävää ja että se hettikään ei pelästyttänyt.  Olen myös helpottunut, että mun englanti tuntui susta sujuvalta.

Ja kiva, että ne yllätykset tosiaan tulivat täysinä yllätyksinä, se oli tarkoituskin! Esimerkiksi Burn Your Life Downin lyriikoista voisi ne tarkkaan lukiessaan arvata, mitä tulee tapahtumaan, mutta hyvä, että se yllätti. Vaikkei se tietenkään mikään mieluisa yllätys ole. :/ Se oli todella vaikea mulle kirjoittaa ja itkin ja koin suurta ahdistusta kolmosluvun aikana. Kiva, että Ron/Harrykin miellytti kun se oli mulle vähän vaikeaa kirjoittaa.

Kiitos paljon siis kommentistasi. 

[Carolynne]

Minäkin itkin lukiessani tätä. Tämä on kaunis, aito, koskettava, lohdullinen... Hahmosi olivat mielestäni tosi luontevia, eivät yhtään OoC - minun piti kirjoittaa että erityisesti Harry, mutta totesin sitten, että niinpä kaikki muutkin. Tykkäsin tekstin rakenteesta - en ollut yhtään ajatellut missä luen ja millä varoituksilla, joten en ollut spoilaantunut edes tekstin angstisuudesta. Tapahtumat etenivät loogisesti ja jännittävästi, minun oli pakko ahmia heti kaikki. Myös näkökulmien vaihto toimi.

Englannissa en huomannut mitään kiorjattavaa, se oli sujuvaa ja helppolukuista. Lisäksi olit vieraallakin kielellä hienoja sanataiteellisia juttuja mukaan, erityisesti tykkäsin tästä Carmillankin lainaamasta kohdasta:

He got up and Harry was so afraid of what was to come but when Ron turned around, Harry’s eyes asking ‘Don’t send me away’ met the ‘Don’t leave’ in Ron’s.

Kaiken kaikkiaan tämän lukeminen sattui ja salpasi hengen. Hyvin todentuntuista angstia siis, mahtavaa työtä.

Minulla olisi tästä mielettömästi tunteita, mutta tämä oli niin hyvä ja koskettava, että jätti tosiaan sanattomaksi. Toivon vain, että tiedät, kuinka loistavan ficin olet kirjoittanut <3

[Crepe]

Carolynne: Itsepä jätit nyt kyllä minut ihan sanattomaksi! Olen ihan ihmeissäni, että pidit tästä noin paljon! Kiitos tuhannesti.

Olen pahoillani, että laitoin sinut itkemään, mutta samalla hyvilläni siitä, että tämä ficci onnistui sinussakin tavoittamaan ne tunteet, joita itse käsittelin kirjottaessani. Ja että pidit hahmoista ja tapahtumista.

En osaa sanoa mitään sen enempää, kuin että kiitos että luit ja kiitos ihanasta kommentista.