The Witness

Ron lay on his bed. The pillow was wet with tears. The dormitory was empty. He had pushed a chest in front of the door. He did not want to see Harry now. How could he have been such a fool, to believe that Harry was his friend? A friend wouldn't have done what Harry did. He had known for so long how Ron had felt about her. And yet, there had been that stolen moment between them. That moment that no one was supposed to see. That moment that Ron saw. That moment Ron was replaying in his mind.

I know I'll miss her later.

Wish I could bend my love to hate her.

Wish I could be her creator

To twist her arms now.

Harry and Hermione had thought they were all alone. Everyone was supposed to be at breakfast, except that Ron wasn't. He had overslept. They hadn't even noticed he wasn't around. They were too busy snuggled on the couch, with their eyes looking softly into the fire and at each other.

She stares up at the stars when

the stars fell from her hair then.

I bent down to collect them,

And then she was gone.

Ron had almost gone up to them then. He was ready to say a big hello and give his pals a good slap on the back. Something had kept him in the door way though. He realized now that it was instinct. Really, he should have seen it all along. Hermione had made the first move: sitting next to Harry in all the classes they had together, but Harry had obviously encouraged it. How could he have been so blind!

O I sleep just to dream her,

Beg the night just to see her,

That my only love should be her,

Just to lie in her arms.

He watched them, slowly realizing what has happening. Hermione lifted her face, and had looked at Harry with a small smile. Harry had angled her face to him by putting the fingertips of one hand under her chin. With quiet attraction, their faces came together. It was a gentle kiss, but also long. Ron didn't know how he had stood there for that eternity.

O I came there to find out

Find out she'd made up her mind now.

My arms are all tied up...

To me she was blind.

And when they parted, they both smiled again! They looked to each other, and she cuddled up to him closer. Ron felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to pull them apart. He wanted to punch Harry with all his fury. This was his best friend! Harry was the only one Ron had told about his feelings. Harry had encouraged Ron to act on them. What had he said? "If you don't do something, someone else will."

The space between us

Where wingless dreams fall earless.

Will you bear me witness,

With your back to me now?

Ron hadn't thought the one to do anything would have been Harry. Had he even resisted at all? Did he think of the pain this would cause his best friend? No. It was obvious he hadn't. There was the evidence: two young lovers, wrapped up in each other and their love. Ron knew he should have made a bigger move, but now it was too late. He had been trying. Slowly he was opening up to Hermione. It was hard for him, and he thought he would have time to tell her everything.

It seems so unnerving,

Still somehow deserving,

That she could hold my heart so tightly,

And still not see me here.

He had turned around, and climbed the stairs. Once in the dormitory, he slammed the door, pushed the trunk in front of it, and just laid down with his sadness. It was like a blanket that kept him cold. Ron felt himself becoming frigid. He didn't resist. Who was there to be warm for?

I sleep just to dream her,

Beg the night just to see her,

That my only love should be her...

Just to lie in her arms.

And now there was a knock on the door. He heard a something being muttered, and suddenly the door was open. Harry was lowering his wand. Ron saw Hermione by his side, there hands together, with fingers interlocked. How he had dreamed to hold that very hand in his own! His heart seemed to burst with sorrow and devotion. He hated and loved her. He saw their fingers tighten. Harry frowned, and his eyes seemed to droop on his face. He ran the hand with the wand through his hair, and opened his mouth to speak. It didn't matter what he said. Ron wasn't here to listen. He was somewhere cold, and he was getting older and darker in the seconds it took Harry to articulate his explanation and apology.

O I know I'll miss her later,

Wish I could bend my love to hate her,

Wish I could be her creator

To be the light in her eyes.