The Seduction Of Doubt

Chapter 2 – Doubt

Ron stood in a foggy room. He looked around wildly, trying to force things into focus, but nothing worked. He heard a voice. “You shouldn’t let him get to you, Ron.” As it spoke, the room came into focus. “I certainly don’t.” He was sitting back in the hospital wing, next to his best friend. “I can handle anything, you see.” Harry spoke with an uncharacteristically cold tone to his voice, a tone that put Ron in mind of Snape or Malfoy. “After all that’s happened, his little taunts don’t affect me.” Ron stared, unbelieving. “I’m stronger than that.” As Ron shook his head wildly, the room dissolved into fog again. “Stronger than you.” Ron saw, in front of his eyes, the fight in the dungeons that afternoon. He saw himself jump at Malfoy, and he saw Harry. He saw Harry sigh exasperatedly and casually stroll over to pull them all apart. “You see, Ron? I always have to save you.” The voice spoke again, as though Harry was standing right over his shoulder, but when he turned there was no one. “You’re a burden, Ron.”

“That’s not how it happened,” Ron croaked, suddenly wondering where his voice had been, “and you know it.”

“Isn’t it? Isn’t that always how it is?” the voice said. “You can’t control yourself, Ron. I can’t fight Voldemort if I’m always looking after you.” Ron winced at the sound of the name. The voice laughed, a bark of mockery that seemed to invade his very mind. “Voldemort, Voldemort, VOLDEMORT, Ron. You see? I have to FIGHT HIM. You can’t even hear his name without flinching. You’re weak, Ron, and you always will be. You’ll never be as strong as the great Harry Potter. You’ll never be as good as me.” Ron’s hands clenched, and he willed himself to ignore the voice. “You can’t ignore me, Ron, because I’m always there. I’m your best friend, Ron, I’m telling you this because you need to hear it. It’s for your own good. I can’t save you all the time, and you can’t save yourself if you’re always with me. I need you to leave.” Ron blinked, then turned to where the voice was. His best friend was standing there now. “Go, Ron. You’ve always been a burden.”

“You’re lying. You’re not Harry.” The figure before him laughed – Ron knew that laugh so well, but before now it had been a source of comfort. Now it burned a hole through his chest to his heart and pierced it. Ron continued weakly. “Harry wouldn’t say this.”

“But I am. I am saying it. You know you have to leave. I don’t want your friendship, Ron. I need to ally myself with powerful people, and you just don’t have what it takes. You know you don’t. Stop trying to leech off of me and leave me alone!” The voice was yelling at him now. “You think just because I’m famous that hanging around me makes YOU famous??? You’ll never have this! You’ll never be what I am – known, adored, STRONG. You’ll never be that, Weasley. You’ll always just be small.” Ron shook his head wildly, but couldn’t find the words.

“I… you… no…” He paused. He didn’t want to believe it. He fought not to believe it, but every fibre of his being knew the voice, the laugh, those eyes. “I’ll prove you wrong, Harry. I’ll prove I can do this without you.

“I can exist without you, Harry, and I will.”

* * * * *

“… So, anyway, Parvati’s been absolutely on my case about Ron. ‘Hermione, you really should tell me if you have a boyfriend, I promise you, I could really do something wonderful with your hair… why don’t you do it like you did at the Yule ball, it was so lovely then…’ blah, blah, blah. I guess she saw me squeeze his hand the other day in Potions and her little mind got going.” Hermione said, doctoring some toast on her plate.

“Yeah, I saw that too… I asked Ron, he told me you guys had worked that whole thing Krum thing out. I’m really glad for you both.” Harry smiled at her. She smiled back and took a bite of her breakfast.

“Where is Ron, anyway?” Hermione asked around a mouthful of toast. “Didn’t he come down with you?”

“No,” said Harry, “he muttered something and rolled over in bed. I guess he didn’t sleep well.” He nibbled the sausage he was nursing. “He sounded angry, but he’s not exactly a fairy in the morning. I don’t know.”

“Well, you don’t have to know. There he is. Ron!” Hermione called, waving him over. He looked sombre, with bags under his eyes. Harry hadn’t mentioned this to Hermione, but he was sure Ron talking in his sleep had woke him at least once over the course of the night. “You’re lying,” he’d kept saying, “I don’t believe you, stop it,” over and over. Harry had managed to fall back asleep rather rapidly, but the incident had still bothered him. As Ron came to the table, he reluctantly climbed into the seat beside Harry.

“All right, Ron?” Harry asked casually. Ron stiffened slightly.

“I’m fine.”

“Rough night?”

“I’m FINE, Harry.” Ron snapped, and then went about buttering a slice of toast. Harry was taken aback, but chalked it up to morning misery, and went back to his sausage.

“You were talking in your sleep last night. I was just wondering –“

“Well, I’m terribly sorry I disturbed you, Harry. I’ll try to dream a little quieter next time. I’m sure you need your strength.” Ron bit off the last word as though it was an insult.

“Okay, Ron. I was just wondering if you were okay, you seemed upset when you were talking…” Harry trailed off, examining Ron. The red-haired boy was shaking again, the same way he’d been the day before, preceding the fight with Draco. When he spoke, his voice was dripping with a sarcastic tone completely unlike Ron.

“Thanks so much, Harry, for taking the time to check on me. I don’t think I’d have been strong enough to cope on my own. Harry, I don’t need you,” Ron hissed, “to hold me up. Or is it, hold me back?” Ron dropped his toast on the plate and stood up. “I’ve lost my appetite. If you’ll excuse me… I’ll see you in Defence Against The Dark Arts, Hermione.” And with that, he stalked off. Both Harry and Hermione looked absolutely shell-shocked.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Harry had no recollection of any of his classes or meals – save the part where Ron had laughed almost imperceptibly when Draco called him “Scarhead.” That single laugh had been like a dagger in Harry’s gut, and he was starting to reciprocate Ron’s obvious anger at him. They dressed silently for bed and Harry, as he climbed in, burned to say goodnight to someone he still thought of as his best friend. He caught himself, though, and rolled over to face the wall, not falling asleep for a very long time.

* * * * *

“I don’t need you to hold me up.” The same words came rushing back to him as Harry fought to get his bearings. “I have other people for that.” He knew that voice, he knew, but it was too cold, too unfriendly. “I don’t have to live all alone, Harry. I have people who love me.” Ron’s voice was echoing in his ears as Harry saw, playing before him, an image of Ron’s entire family. He saw himself, as well, standing outside the group of nine, alone. “Five brothers and a sister. Two parents. Two WHOLE parents.” Harry watched as his other self looked longingly at the group and he felt his chest burn. “But you. You’re dangerous, Harry. Danger follows you wherever you go, and it follows me because I’m always there for you.” Harry felt the ground become solid under his body – he was sitting somewhere. “We’re always there for you. And maybe it’s a mistake.” He was sitting, back in that hospital room, talking to Ron again. “Hermione and I have gotten a lot closer,” he was saying, “we rely on each other now. It’s me and Hermione, all the way.”

“And what about me?” Harry said meekly. Ron smiled at him condescendingly.

“Well, sure, we’ll all hang out still… but you’ve got your stuff. Avenge your parents, and so forth. You-know-who’s out there looking for you, we both know that. You can’t honestly expect me to stick around for that. I don’t want to die. I’ve got too much to live for.” As Harry blinked, he saw images flash before his eyes – Hermione, squeezing Ron’s hand; Ron’s parents; Ron’s brothers all sitting around the dinner table; Bill and Charlie fighting with picnic tables; Ron smiling happily. “You see, Harry? If I follow you into your battles, I’ll lose all this. But you… you lose nothing. You’ve got nothing to lose, and we both know it.”

“That’s not true,” Harry protested, albeit weakly, “I have my friends. You’re not Ron. I know you’re not.”

“Aren’t I? Harry, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way I’ve been acting. I’m sick of you trying to siphon off of my family and my friends. Worse, you pull us all into danger every time you’re around! You just want us to be there to take the fall whenever you get us into trouble. Remember the dragons? Remember how Cedric transfigured that rock into a dog? That’s us. We’re the dog you use to distract the dragon.” The voice hardened painfully now. “Remember Cedric, Harry? Remember how he died? That was all because of you. He was there because of you, and he died because he was there, trying to help you. Like we are. Like we’ll die.“ Harry was kneeling now, unaware that he was still breathing.

“Ron… I… why are you saying this?”

“Because you need it. You need to know this. You know it already, deep inside you. You can’t stay around us forever, because we won’t let you. You just want to be what I am, Harry, but you never will be. You want to be safe, happy, LOVED. You’ll never have that, Potter. You’ll never be loved. Because that’s reserved for the people who don’t have to fight the world.”

* * * * *

None of the three of them spoke the next morning. Harry and Ron sat as far away from each other as humanly possible. Hermione stayed between them, frightened to say anything as though the slightest slip of a word would set them off. She felt cold, burning hatred radiating from either side of her, and made up her mind. “Ron. Harry. I can’t eat with the two of you like this.” They eyed each other warily, as though sizing up for a kill.

“It’s not my fault, Hermione,” Harry said, “that Ron can’t stand to be around me and my burdens.”

“Oh, we’re a burden now?”

“I didn’t say that, Weasley.”

“Close enough, Potter.” They were rising from their seats slowly, and Hermione stood up rapidly and grabbed the two of them by the sleeve.

“Come with me. NOW.” She hissed. They followed, muttering insults at each other. “And SHUT UP.” They both, miraculously, did so, though they still looked ready to kill one another. She dragged them both to the library and shut the door, quickly scanning the room for the librarian. “Good, she’s still at breakfast.” She took out her wand. “Accio wands!” she muttered, and both Ron’s and Harry’s wands flew into her hands. They looked at her indignantly. “Look, I’ve seen you two mad at each other before, but you’re liable to kill if you pull these out. I’m worried for you both, this isn’t right. Nothing about this feels right.” They were both silent for a moment.

“Maybe you’re right, Hermione. None of this does feel right.” Harry said finally.

“Good, I’m glad you agree wi-“

“After all, it’s not right that my best friend should suddenly become so mad at me. Maybe I was wrong… maybe he’s not the kind of friend I thought he was.”

“Me? I’m not the one who always has to step in and be the hero all the time.”

“It’s not my fault that all this follows me.”

“Yeah, but damned if you don’t like all the attention it gets you.”

“I DON’T WANT IT!!!” Harry shouted, and launched at Ron in exasperation. Hermione threw the wands down without a second thought and ran towards them, thankful that Pansy was nowhere in the vicinity. She tried to pull Harry off Ron, but she was nowhere near strong enough. As she bent down to try to stop their flying fists, she noticed it – the necklace that Harry wore was dangling down, having become untucked from beneath his robes, and Ron’s was levitating up to meet it.

“GET OFF IT, BOTH OF YOU!!!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. They paused and she took this opportunity to push Harry over and then pull them both up to their feet. “Do that again, and I will catch you both, in that position, in the full Body-Bind and leave you here for McGonagall to find.” They looked at her, mildly impressed. For the moment, they had forgotten their fight. “Now. The necklaces you’re wearing. Are they magnets?” Both Harry and Ron looked somewhat bewildered.

“Are they whats?” said Ron.

“I wouldn’t know,” said Harry, “you tell us.”

“Me? Why would I know?” Hermione asked, bemused.

“You gave them to us.” Ron said. “For fighting Malfoy that day. To thank us.” Hermione looked at them both as though they were absolutely bonkers.

“I promise you both, right now, that I have never seen either of those necklaces in my life.”