The Last Time

Calliope

Story Summary:
When Harry wants to stop the pain he suffers from re-occurring dreams about the death of his parents, it is only the bond he shares with Ron and Hermione that saves his life. The bond proves to be the only thing that saves them all as they face the unimaginable… [written pre-OotP, but partially OotP-compatible]

Chapter 05

Chapter Summary:
When Harry wants to stop the pain he suffers from re-occurring dreams about the death of his parents, it is only the bond he shares with Ron and Hermione that saves his life. The bond proves to be the only thing that saves them all as they face the unimaginable… (Rated PG-13- R/Hr, H/Hr...)
Posted:
01/17/2003
Hits:
3,329
Author's Note:
The Last Time was originally written pre-OotP and then was edited to comply with the new canon. There are still some small things that don’t quite reconcile with OotP but I had to take a bit of artistic license with them, such as the inability of boys to go into the girls’ dormitories, the layout of St. Mungo’s, how people are selected to be Aurors, and a few other small things. I felt that changing them to be totally compatible with OotP would require totally taking the story apart and reworking it.

Chapter 5

Hermione waited in the girls' changing room for a long time, until she was sure Ron had given up and gone on without her, then headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

Ron Weasley kissed me. Ron. Me. Kissing.

She wasn't exactly an expert in the kissing department. Victor Krum had kissed her twice the year he'd been at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament; rough kisses that made her very uncomfortable. She was very glad when he'd gone back to Durmstrang. Neville Longbottom had kissed her once also. One night last spring when she was helping him with a nasty Potions essay, he leaned over and gave her a surprisingly nice kiss. It had been extremely awkward telling Neville that she didn't feel that way about him; she supposed it must have taken an enormous amount of effort on Neville's part to work up the courage to do it in the first place. He'd avoided her for three weeks after that and she felt horrible.

But Ron...she'd never in a million years expected Ron Weasley to kiss her. Ron was like her brother, for crying out loud. There was nothing brotherly about that kiss though; it was sweet and strong and it had felt wonderful, no doubt about it, but...she kept remembering Harry's shocked face when he saw them and she felt sick inside. What's going on here? I don't understand...when did Ron start wanting to kiss me, and why does Harry care?

"There you are, Miss Granger."

Hermione stopped and saw Professor McGonagall, looking very stern. "I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't see you there. Were you looking for me?"

"Yes, I most certainly was. Come with me, please."

Great, thought Hermione. Now what? She followed a silent McGonagall to her office.

"Please have a seat, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall. Hermione sat down and waited nervously.

"I understand there was an...incident...in Professor Snape's class yesterday," said McGonagall. "An incident where you were extremely disrespectful." She looked over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses to focus her sharp gaze directly on Hermione.

"Er, Professor, I can explain..." Hermione began nervously.

"Please do so," said McGonagall.

"Well...I...I guess...I just got tired of the way he's been treating Gryffindor for the last six years, and I...just couldn't keep my mouth shut," said Hermione, almost petrified under McGonagall's stare, but she took a deep breath and kept going. "He's always taking points from us for no reason, yelling at Neville, calling me a know-it-all, and I just got sick of it."

"That is no excuse to be rude to a teacher, Miss Granger," said McGonagall. "I understand your frustration, but the manner in which you spoke to Professor Snape...I'm quite disappointed in you." She paused, her voice softening. "Why has no one informed me before now what has been happening with Professor Snape and the Gryffindors?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head, mortified that McGonagall, her favourite teacher, was lecturing her. "I don't know, Professor...I mean, we aren't a bunch of tattle-tales..."

McGonagall sighed impatiently. "Miss Granger, as Head of Gryffindor House, it is my duty to look after the students in my care in every way possible. This includes unjust or unfair treatment. I do not penalize any House unjustly, and I expect that my colleagues would do the same. I also expect that the students in my House would come to me if there were any...problems...with another member of the staff. In the future, please remember that...and do not consider it 'tattle-telling'."

"Yes, Professor," said Hermione.

"Now, as to the incident in question...you will be receiving a detention; however, I will not be taking any points from Gryffindor."

"You won't?" asked Hermione.

"No, Miss Granger, I will not," said McGonagall. "I'm quite sure Professor Snape will take enough before the year is out to compensate for it." A small smile crept to the corner of her mouth and lingered there for a moment, and Hermione found herself smiling back. "Please report to Madam Pomfrey's office Saturday evening at eight o'clock for your detention. You may go now."

***

The next few days were the most bizarre that Hermione had ever experienced at Hogwarts. She was used to having Harry and Ron to talk with, joke with, and be with, but Ron blushed furiously and avoided looking at her whenever she was around, and Harry was mostly absent. She saw him in class, but he refused to look at or speak to her, and he was never in the common room after dinner or on weekends. It was obvious that Harry and Ron weren't speaking to each other either. It was worse than the time they fought over Harry's name coming out of the Goblet of Fire. At first, it seemed that Ron wanted to talk to Harry. Once she saw Ron approach him hesitantly, but Harry only stared at him, green eyes flashing with a look of wildness, and Ron stopped dead as if Harry had been a basilisk. It hurt her terribly to see him look at Ron like that, and from the way Ron shrank back from Harry's stare told her he was hurt as well - and confused.

The whole school noticed the rift between them. No one said anything directly, of course, but there were plenty of whispers and stares, and lots of pointing. Meals were terribly awkward. Neville, Seamus, Dean, Ginny, Lavender, Parvati, and the other sixth- and seventh-year Gryffindors made a noble effort to ease the tension with their conversation, but invariably the effort fell flat as their end of the table descended into a dreadful silence. Hermione usually ate quickly, when she had appetite at all, and left as soon as possible.

She took refuge in the library, hiding herself behind large stacks of books. There was something comforting about being surrounded by books. They were solid, they were substantial, and most of all they were predictable. She could open her favourite book and know that it would tell her the same story again and again, and nothing would change. If she looked for a new book, she could be sure of the subject before reading and have no shocks halfway through. Books didn't change their personality halfway through, they didn't stop speaking to you, and they didn't try to kiss you after being your best friend for years. Hermione liked order, predictability, and security, and she found it in abundance in the library.

There was one particular corner where she liked to sit, where the light from the windows made the polished wooden table gleam warmly, and the chair would squeak just so as it slid across the stone floor. It was quiet there, and she could think without the buzzing of chatter from people who were just using the library for a social hangout. She was sitting there on Saturday evening while everyone else was at dinner, working on a difficult Herbology essay and trying desperately not to think about anything else.

"Hey."

It was Ron. He was shuffling nervously from one foot to the other, hands deep in the pockets of his robes.

"Ron..." Hermione didn't know what to say. "Er...sit down," she said finally, pointing to a chair across the table from her.

There was a long silence, where Hermione pretended to continue working on her essay, not wanting Ron to see her blush, and Ron cleared his throat several times.

"This is stupid," Hermione said finally, slamming down her quill. "Ridiculous!"

"Hermione, listen to me," began Ron. "About the other day..."

"No," she said. "I do not want to talk about that." She busily stacked the parchments on the table, organizing them into piles and then mixing them up and putting them in new piles. Totally pointless, but it kept her from having to look at Ron.

"Why?" asked Ron.

"Because I said so, that's why!" she snapped.

"Well, that's the dumbest reason I ever heard," he said. "You're going to just act like it didn't happen? Is that your idea of a plan?"

"Maybe," she said.

"Oh, come off it already, Hermione," he said.

"You don't get it, do you?" she asked, shoving the parchments out of the way. "Look at us! Me and you and Harry! Look at how we're acting! It's so childish! Harry's off sulking God-knows-where, he's not speaking to you, you aren't speaking to him, he's not speaking to me, the whole of Gryffindor Tower is walking on eggshells whenever more than one of us is around, I can't look at you without...well...and it just...all because you kissed me the other day!"

"Oh, so all this is my fault?" Ron asked. "All I did was kiss you."

"Well, there you go," she said. "You kissed me, and see what happened? We're supposed to be friends, Ron - you, Harry and me. The three of us."

"Is that all you see me as?" Ron's voice, which had been getting louder as the argument went on, was suddenly deadly quiet. "Just a friend?"

His tone of voice startled her. "Well, of course...I mean, not just any friend, you're my best friend, both of you are...you know that..." She found she didn't know what else to say.

"What if I don't want to be friends anymore, Hermione?"

"Please, don't do this..." Hermione whispered, shaking her head. "Don't..."

"Okay, if that's the way you want it," said Ron. "I won't bring it up again, don't worry." He stood up abruptly, pushing the chair so hard it banged against the bookshelf behind him, and left.

Hermione watched him go, her eyes burning. "Why couldn't everything just stay the same!" she said to herself, then crammed her things into her bag and left to do her detention.