Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Harry and Hermione and Ron
Genres:
Angst Friendship
Era:
Harry and Classmates During Book Seven
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince
Stats:
Published: 04/24/2007
Updated: 04/24/2007
Words: 1,769
Chapters: 1
Hits: 495

The Bravest and the Boldest

AKissInACrisis

Story Summary:
"Ron pondered telling Harry that he really would have to kill him if he became a Christian, but he thought that Hermione would say this was insensitive." When Harry runs away in Godric's Hollow, Ron follows him to a very strange place. Takes place directly after HBP. Trio friendship, with a smidge of Ron/Hermione and some past Harry/Ginny.

Chapter 01

Posted:
04/24/2007
Hits:
495


The Bravest and the Boldest

A/N: For reallycorking.

***

"Right," said Hermione frantically, standing at the gate leading up the garden path, and staring down the old country lane that passed for a street on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow. "You go left and I'll go right - alright?"

"Back here in half an hour?" called Ron as he turned to go.

"Yes ... he can't have gone far ..." trailed off Hermione, already starting off.

But gone he had. Trying not to run, Ron started up the road.

*

Forty minutes later, Ron was running down Hermione's half of the village - she hadn't turned up. He shouldn't be panicking, she was only ten minutes late, she really wouldn't like to know that he'd been fussing - but for all he knew, there was some Death Eater up here with a huge net, kidnapping all of his friends and putting them in cauldrons. Maybe they'd gone into one of these houses? The village was eerily silent, and the cottages looked uninviting; he didn't see why Harry would've gone into one of them - but then he didn't see why Harry had done what he did in the first place. Maybe they'd gone over there ... or maybe - maybe they'd gone into the church?

He stopped and stared around. There were no people about to ask - not that he could see, anyway. He stared at the church again, and before he knew that he'd made a decision, he'd run up to the gate, tried vaulting it, almost fallen flat on his face, kicked it open, and torn up the path. He ran up the winding track, trying to ignore the jumbled, mossy graves, and into the shadow of the dark and crumbling little church.

He pushed at the huge, creaking wooden door, and stepped straight into a large, vaulted room, decorated with wooden crosses and lit by a few candles. It was empty, and seemed huge - it was larger than it had looked on the outside.

He almost called out; but then, through the gloom, he saw them.

With their backs to him, they were sitting at the front, on the stone flagstones. Hermione had her arm around Harry, and he had his head on her shoulder. They were sitting where the - the altar? - the table usually was. They were dead still.

He took a step towards them, and Hermione twisted her head around, quieting the old, embarrassing flicker of jealousy somewhat. Recognising him through the darkness, she gave him a sad sort of smile, and he must have returned something, because she turned back round to face the front. Throughout their exchange, Harry didn't move.

Ron hadn't been in a church in about ten years; now, because of Bill's wedding, he'd ended up in one twice in one month. Funny, how creepy the absence of people made the places. As he walked between the dark, empty pews, the only noise was his ungainly footsteps, slapping on the floor and echoing throughout the vaulted room. Harry and Hermione didn't flinch; they were looking at the front, up at a painting - it was of Jesus, or someone.

He had reached the front. Neither of them moved.

Not knowing what else to do, he sat down on Harry's other side.

He didn't know what to say, or how he should act. The silence was unnerving him.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

Sorry for what? Running away so he could go and have a look at Jesus? Ron bit back his retort, leaned back on his hands, and looked up at the painting.

"I've never believed in God, much."

There was a pause.

"I - nor have I, really," muttered Harry, not taking his eyes off of the hillside painting, filled with people wearing robes far too colourful for two thousand years ago. "Not really, anyway."

Ron felt, rather than saw, Hermione's hand tighten around Harry's arm.

"But, I dunno, maybe there is something," continued Harry. "But I don't see how there can be. Or how it would affect me."

"Yeah, wizards don't go in for God that much. I mean, water into wine? Am I supposed to be impressed? I can do that, and no one calls me the bloody Messiah."

Hermione gave him A Look.

"Mum quite likes it," Ron ploughed on, ignoring her, "that's why Bill got married in a church. And Fleur's lot, of course, them as well: they're really up on it for some reason - but then, they're French."

Harry gave a small smile.

"What do you think, Hermione?" Ron asked her, pointedly ignoring the you're-being-insensitive glare.

"I -" She stopped glaring at him and turned back round to face the front. "I ... I don't know if I can believe in ... any of this ... I mean, I don't think it can exist - logically. But ..." She stopped again, and her mind seemed to fight with something. "But I sometimes wonder if I'm not just ... not just trying to trick myself, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah ..." broke in Harry. "I mean, maybe we're just ... denying what's obvious. Other people believe in all this."

Ron pondered telling Harry that he really would have to kill him if he became a Christian, but he thought that Hermione would say this was insensitive.

"Harry," she said softly, "If you're ... if you really are thinking about ..."

"Don't worry, Hermione, I'm not about to convert," Harry said wryly, and Ron had to stifle a grin.

There was another silence.

Harry cocked his head back up to look at Jesus. "Do you think believing in all this makes life easier, or harder?"

"Oh, I think harder," said Hermione.

"Yeah, for starters, you're not allowed to have sex."

"Ron," said Hermione and Harry finally laughed. Ron grinned.

They were silent again. Harry shifted slightly, and Hermione's grip around his shoulders loosened.

"Do you think my parents got married here?"

"Er ..." started Hermione, sitting up, her hand falling from around his shoulders. Ron was equally nonplussed. That question had come awfully close to his mention of - of sex. Yeah, Harry was an orphan, so it was different ... but, still ... eurgh. What was going on in his best mate's mind?

"I was just wondering." Harry was speaking again, and Ron tried to blot out the thoughts of the only person Harry could have done anything sex-related with. "I've got pictures of the wedding, but I never really noticed much about the place it was in ..."

Didn't Harry have photos? Ron had seen him with them over the years, flipping through them and then shoving them under his pillow so that he wouldn't see. Well, couldn't they just get them out and analyse them for clues? There was no need for this deep chat.

"Why do you think she married him?"

Well, it was something Ron wondered about both of his own parents every day. He had a feeling this was different.

"It's just - they hated each other." Harry was speaking fast, his arms folded on his knees, eyes resolutely ahead. "Really, really hated each other - I saw it in the Penseive - and it was just ... he was such - he was such a -!" He stopped, unable to say the word that was on his mind. He grit his teeth. "He was ... he was awful. He was my dad and he was sixteen but he was still really, really awful, and ... and I probably shouldn't be telling you about this, I'll just - never mind," he mumbled, his head sinking into his arms.

Ron didn't know what to say.

"Harry," said Hermione gently, "when did you ... see this?"

"Fifth year," he mumbled into his knees. "With Snape."

Hermione bit her lip. "And is this ... is this the first time you've talked about it?"

"With ... with Sirius. Sirius and Lupin. And - and Ginny, once."

"And ... and what did they say?"

Ron nodded. A wise move, that one. Go over old advice, rather than have to come up with some themselves.

"Well, Sirius wasn't much use, to be honest. And Ginny said ..." He lifted his head out of arms, and then, his expression cleared a little. "Nah, forget it."

"Oh, come on, mate."

"No, no way -" he said, but he was smiling.

"You can't do that!"

"Oh, Harry ..." Hermione appeared to be torn between her recently assumed persona of perfect understanding, and the more Hermione-ish disposition of annoyance. "You've got to tell us now."

Harry's smile stretched into a grin. "You're not going to like it."

"Oh, just say it."

"Alright: she said to imagine the trauma that would be incurred by the child of you two if it ever went back and witnessed the canary fight."

Another silence.

"Um," said Ron.

"Told you you wouldn't like it," smirked Harry.

"That's not ... I mean, that's hardly ..." stuttered Hermione, her face crimson.

"Well, that's the last time I freeze my arse off sitting next to you in a deserted church," Ron attempted to joke. Harry just smiled and looked at his hands.

There was another pause.

"Feeling better, now that you've humiliated your friends?" Ron asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"A bit, yeah."

"So ... do you want to go back?"

He felt Harry tense.

"It's alright, Harry, we don't have to," put in Hermione.

"Yeah, we'll find a Sleep and Breakfast, or something," added Ron.

"- Bed and Breakfast -" hissed Hermione.

"No," said Harry. "No, it's fine, we'll - we'll go back to the house."

Hermione once more wrapped her arm tightly around Harry. Ron almost felt moved into taking his old friend's hand, only - well, that was a bit gay. He settled for a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Come on," Harry said. "Let's go back." As they got up and dusted themselves down, Ron said, "You could ask Lupin about where the wedding was."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"And about your parents!" exclaimed Hermione earnestly. "Find out some real information!"

"Only," Ron considered not saying this, but decided to just go for it, "only no running off to find him, yeah?"

"No," said Harry, and maybe Ron imagined this, but it seemed that he stuck his chin up a little bit higher. "I won't run away again. I promise."

And with that, they turned around and walked back out into the light.

***

A/N: The title is taken from the Sorting Hat's song in Order of the Phoenix.