I Just Feel Alone

I Just Feel Alone

...by Rochelle Lynne...

Hermione angrily brushed tears out of her eyes. She should be glad. Glad to be rid of him. It was his own bloody fault, siding with Harry. She wasn't trying to bother them. And how the hell was she supposed to know what was going on when Harry wouldn't even talk to her?

And why was Harry talking to Ron? After all, she was more sensible, smarter, and surely she would understand what Harry was going though. She would try to understand, and certainly Ron, who had the emotional capability of a two year old, wouldn't be a better comfort.

She sniffed and fixed the Quidditch pitch, which lay sprawling in front of her, with an icy glare. As if somehow, Ron would feel it. Stupid prat was obsessed with the sport. She glared harder, encouraged by this thought. She was though with him for good, and he could forget about the homework help. He could fail right out of Hogwarts and she wouldn't give a damn.

Honestly, she hadn't been bothering them that much. It's just that Harry didn't smile, didn't eat, didn't talk... and whenever Hermione tried to speak to him, Ron would cut her off with an icy glare that would tell her to shut up. Well, she'd shut up. For two weeks they had been back at Hogwarts, and she hadn't said one word about what happened last summer. She'd tried, but Ron had always interfered, claiming he wasn't ready to talk about it. He was never ready to talk about it.

Hermione's anger ebbed slowly away. The sun was setting on the pitch, and she was still sitting stiffly on the grass, watching the light disappear. She hoped they would never find her. They'd be sorry then. Sorry for calling her pushy and nosey and telling her to leave them alone. Didn't they see that they were shutting her out like third year? She needed to be let in.

Wet trails started again as Hermione realized, exasperated, that she was crying. God, would it never stop? She choked back a sob, thinking with a scowl that she was far too emotional. Even as the sun sank lower in the sky, she couldn't help but feel alone, and abounded. She was being pushed out of the only two friendships she cared about.

They were pushing her out.

And she didn't know how to get back in.

Sniffing, she looked up, tears still grazing down her cheeks. The sky was almost black now, and Hermione was startled at how much time she had spent out here, mulling over her own stupid thoughts. She was suddenly glad that she had come out here; Lavender and Parviti would have had a wonderful time if she had broken down crying. They would have pressed her for details that she didn't want to give. She wiped her face miserably, knowing that she must look a mess, and that she would sometime have to get back to the castle to get to sleep. She didn't want to see the two girls before she went up. She didn't want to see Ron or Harry either. They'd be able to tell that she'd been crying, and would avoid her even more.

Feebly swiping at her tears, Hermione looked up into the sky, amazed at how many stars there were. She watched them mistily, her tears starting to fade away. A shiver ran up her spine as she realized how alone and desolate it really was, out in the Quidditch pitch, at night. An eerie fog had started to settle in and Hermione was wondering how late it really was. Was anyone looking for her? A pulse of fear ran though her as she heard a noise behind her. She whirled around, her wand poised.

"Hermione?"

She lowered her wand. It was Ron.

His wand tip was lit and his face shone ghostly silver as he peered at her. "Hermione, what the hell are you doing out here? I've been looking for you for over an hour," he complained as he held out a hand to help her up. Hermione ignored it and stood up on her own account, as Ron's hand fell limply to his side.

"Come to tell me to go away again?" she asked angrily. Ron looked at her intently though the wand light.

"No, as a matter of fact I-" he blinked at her. "Hermione, have you been crying?" he asked. Hermione frowned at him.

"No."

"Yes you have, you look horrible. Have you been sitting out here this whole time crying?" he asked shaking his head. Hermione glared at him.

"For your information, Ronald Weasley, I haven't been crying. Now if you get out of my way, I'll go back up to the castle and go to sleep so-" she said, trying to push around him. He easily sidestepped into her path, blocking her way to the castle. She tried to veer to the right, and the same thing happened again.

"Get out of my way!" she exclaimed.

"No," Ron countered. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."

Hermione looked at him. Suddenly the feelings of being shunned and pushed away from them came bubbling to the top. She took a step towards him. He wanted to know what was wrong after he had been trying to keep her at bay for the past two weeks? She hated him for it. "You want me to tell you what's wrong? Fine! What's wrong is that you and Harry haven't been talking to me at all science we got to school. I've gotten hardly any letters from you all summer, and now you two are always having whispered conversations in the corner and when I come over, you stop and just look at me. Harry won't talk to me at all Ron. You're the only one he talks to and when try to talk to him, you just push me away," she shouted angrily. Ron took a step backwards, the wand light dancing.

"He's not ready to talk," Ron said stubbornly.

"He talks to you," Hermione pointed out icily, trying to get around him again. Again he blocked her.

"Th-That's different."

"It isn't, and you know it," Hermione said, furious that tears were starting to spring to her eyes. She frantically blinked them back. "I-I'm not one of you guys anymore. I'm lost, Ron. I don't know what to do or say in front of Harry and it's killing me. You won't let me talk to him, and I can tell he doesn’t want to talk to me either. He doesn’t care or trust me anymore," A tear slipped down her cheek. Ron paled for a second, before taking a step closer and whipping it off with the sleeve of his robe.

"Harry told me something about the prophecy, but I can't tell you," he said softly, but firmly. Hermione blinked at him as another tear fell, and he pressed his wrist against her face, the soft cool fabric brushing her cheek momentarily.

"Why won't you tell me? Why won't he?" she croaked. Ron shrugged.

"I dunno, he made me promise not to tell... I've been trying to get him to tell you for days, but every time he comes close to it, he backs off," he said helplessly. Hermione felt a surge of annoyance at Harry.

"I'm his friend, I have to know," she protested.

"I know, Hermione," Ron said patiently, looking at her eyes with obvious concern. Hermione felt herself shiver.

"It makes me feel so alone, I just feel so alone," she blurted, tears starting to fall more rapidly. Ron's hand stayed at his side. There were too many to try to mop up now, and Hermione hid her face in her hands miserably. She was upset with Harry for keeping secrets, Ron, for promising not to tell her, and at herself, for allowing herself to break down like some big baby.

But before Hermione realized what was happening, a pair of strong arms encircled her, and brought her into an embrace. Through her shock, Hermione realized that this was Ron's way of trying to make it up to her. She realized that two years ago, he wouldn't have tried to hug her. And suddenly the anguish and she sheer exhaustion of worrying over Harry came out in tears. Hermione buried her face in his robes, and wrapped her arms around Ron's neck, crying freely into his shoulder. As she cried, she felt his hand awkwardly rest on her hip, while the other stroked her bushy hair. They stood like that awhile, and when the tears were done, she lifted her head, her eyes rimmed with red.

Ron's wand tip had gone out, and the only light to see by now was the half moon, which floated high in the sky, leaving only enough light to make out the freckles of Ron's face. Hermione blushed as she realized she was staring at him.

"Sorry," she said suddenly, aware that they hadn't moved an inch apart. "I got your robes soaking wet, and I'm acting like a baby," she apologized. Ron gave a small smile.

"Don't worry about it. I reckon I have been pretty horrible to you," he said, diverting his eyes. Hermione reached her hand up to move his face towards her.

"I- well, you promised Harry," she said. "You're just keeping the secret he asked you too. I should be mad at him."

"Don't be," Ron said suddenly. "It's not something good... he's going to have a lot to deal with... let him come to you on his own time," he said. Hermione nodded. "But I'm not going to promise him anymore secrets," Ron added, surprising Hermione substantially. "It's not worth it."

Hermione looked at him, and felt a swell of feeling for him. Without even realizing what she was doing, her arms, which intertwined around his neck, pulled him forward and their lips gently met. Hermione didn't know much about kissing, but she had the feeling that the moonlight, and the moment, and Ron was perfect. The kiss was brief, and when she pulled away, it was to find Ron, looking slightly startled.

"What was that?" he asked her dazedly. Hermione felt a sheer race of panic go through her. He- he didn't feel the-? Oh God, what had she done?!

"I-.." gaped Hermione uselessly, as she unwound her arms from his neck and tried to sidestep him. She was going back to the castle. She was going to run. Back to her room where she would lay there and forget what had happened and wish that she had her time turner and fix it all over...

"Hermione," Ron called desperately as Hermione started to run. But Ron was too quick for her and grabbed her shoulders as she went past, and whirled her towards him and Hermione found herself in his arms again, his hands tightly holding her in place, as if he was scared she was going to try to run again.

"Hermione," repeated Ron, his voice a bit hoarse. She couldn't look at him now... not after what she had done. What was she thinking? She was so stupid-

Hermione's thoughts melted away as Ron nervously lowered his lips to her's again, and Soon Hermione found herself lost in a very long kiss. She felt as if her knees would give away at any moment, and stiffened a little as she felt Ron's tongue gently brush across her lower lip. Trembling, she opened her mouth and allowed him better access. And when they finally pulled away, Hermione couldn't stop looking at him.

"I've been wanting to do that for some time," Ron said weakly, a quirky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Hermione didn't say anything, but pulled him down for another kiss.

***

Harry looked up as Hermione and Ron came back though the portrait hole. Hermione looked wretched. Her face was tear stained, and her hair stood on end. Harry regarded her silently as she walked by, a dazed smile plastered on her face. He then turned his attention to Ron, who had a similar look.

"What happened?" he questioned. Ron's gaze fell on him.

"Look mate, you tell Hermione tomorrow, alright?" he demanded, staring at him intently. It caught Harry off guard.

"I-I was planning on it anyway...,” he said.

"Good," Ron said to himself grinning stupidly again. "Good, because it's been putting her in a right state, that's why."

Harry looked at him again. The goofy smile was still there and he kept running his hand over his mouth. "What the bloody hell happened?" he finally exclaimed, breaking Ron out of his daze.

"Erm, well she was crying," Ron said. "And... well, I guess both of our first kisses were wet," he shrugged, walking stoutly towards the dorms as he disappeared up the stairs.

"What do you mean?" Harry shouted at him, turning and watching the staircase.

"I mean the Quidditch pitch is a bloody brilliant place to snog!" Ron shouted back, his disembodied voice floating down to the common room.

Harry turned around and faced the fire, a bit stunned, and for the first time in weeks a large grin was splattered across his face.