The Late Watch (Parts 19)
Title: The Late Watch
Author: writerwannabe
Prompt: Secret
Rating: PG
Word Count:100
Warnings: DH Spoilers
Notes: I'm going to do something a little different. This is a multi part drabble series that takes place during the horcrux hunt. Each 100 word drabble will be told in a different point of view.
Remember: comments are more than love; they're therapeutic!
PART 19
NOTE: we're FINALLY getting to the heart of the matter!
You insist on taking the late watch and Harry gives you a cursory glance before nodding and making his way toward his bunk. Ducking out of the tent, you hear Harry and Hermione’s whispered ‘goodnights’ but know hers was not directed at you. Outside snow is falling and you pull your cloak even tighter around your body to protect against the biting wind. Walking around the perimeter to ensure that the protective charms are still holding, you settle atop a large rock and wait. Since destroying the locket, you can’t allow yourself to fall asleep. Not since the nightmares began.
******************************************************************
You’re worried about Ron. He’s taken the late watch every night for the past two weeks and barely sleeps more than ten minutes at a time before jerking awake, plagued by nightmares. Time after time he shrugs off your concern, insisting that he’s ‘all right’. You know that he’s anything but.
You never knew the depth of Ron’s fears when it came to his self worth. That he thought you and Hermione…
You sigh.
Ron drapes his cloak around his shoulders and shuffles towards the tent opening, nodding before disappearing into the night.
Hermione slips into her bed. “Goodnight Harry.”
******************************************************************
“You awake?”
You lift your head a bit and peer into the darkness in the direction of Harry’s bunk. “Barely.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles apologetically. You take that as a sign that you’ll continue this conversation in the morning. You settle back down and just before your eyes slip shut once more, his low voice fills the tent.
“I think you should talk to him.”
“Harry-“
“It’s been weeks,” he implores you. “We can’t go on like this. He’s not sleeping.”
“It’s not my fault that he has a guilty conscience,” you whisper, drawing on your anger. “I don’t care.”
******************************************************************
“Hermione?”
“I said I don’t care, Harry.”
She means it. And Ron knows that and it only adds to the problem at hand. But you swore to him that you wouldn’t tell her the truth about the locket. It hurts you to see how he takes the brunt of her anger with weary acceptance and a part of you knows that her silence only reinforces his fears. “Hermione, please!”
“He left us!” She practically shouts this and you can’t help but wonder if she’s done it on purpose so that he’ll
hear.
“He’s back,” you reply softly. “Isn’t that enough?”
******************************************************************
“He left us!"
You cringe and hang your head as her biting words are carried by the wind to where you keep vigil. For weeks you’ve kept your distance in hopes that she’d come around and forgive you. Her cold stares and harsh remarks do little to bolster your resolve to keep up an effort to appease her anger. It’s clear that she doesn’t want to forgive you for your transgressions. You swore to yourself that you’d do everything to protect them.
You failed.
And the locket? It still manages to haunt you.
You should have told Hermione the truth.
******************************************************************
“No.”
You hear the rustling of his bed sheets, followed by soft, shuffling footfalls drawing near. The bed dips as Harry perches on the edge and he blindly reaches out and finds your arm in the darkness.
“Hermione?”
You’re angry that Harry is so quick to forgive. Sitting up, you pull your arm out of his grasp. “It isn’t that simple.”
“Why can’t it be?” Harry implores you.
Because, you think, he’s hurt you in ways that you can’t confide to Harry. “It just can’t.”
“He’s made amends.”
You glance over at the tent opening. “Not to me he hasn’t.”
******************************************************************
You’re torn.
Your best mates are hurting and there’s little you can do to rectify the situation, without betraying Ron’s trust. They’ve been dancing around an unspoken attraction since the Yule Ball and the tension has been building steadily ever since. But you wonder now if it’ll ever come to a head. “Will he ever be able to?”
“To what?” Confusion colors her words.
“Make amends to you.”
“I don’t know.”
You sigh. “Then I think it’s time that I told you that Ron and I weren’t completely honest with you after we retrieved the sword and destroyed the locket.”
******************************************************************
You’re beyond livid at both of them. They’ve been keeping this secret from you for weeks now.
Weeks.
Harry hadn’t gone into any details when it came to what transpired after Ron rescued him from the lake. He only mentioned that it had affected Ron deeply. Ginny had once confided in you about all the terrible things Riddle’s diary had done before Harry was able to destroy it with the basilisk fang. What if the locket was no different?
Scrambling out of bed, you quickly slip on your trainers and traveling cloak.
There was only one way to find out.
******************************************************************
The cold air, which helped to keep you awake and alert earlier, is now lulling you into a false sense of comfort. Your eyes drift shut as the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you for weeks finally catches up and sleep claims you.
Crack
Your eyes snap open at the disturbance.
There’s no time to think.
You tighten your grip on your wand, whipping it around as you dive off the rock and onto the ground.
“PROTEGO!”
The wand, however, isn’t pointed near the perceived threat as the spell shoots from the tip and heads towards the opening of the tent.
******************************************************************
You storm out of the tent and into the icy darkness in search of answers, intent on uncovering whatever secrets Ron might be keeping. You spot his huddled form near the edge of the campsite and carefully pick your way across the snow covered ground.
Crack
You inadvertently step on a fallen branch and Ron jerks to life, swinging his wand into view. You bring your own up to defend yourself from his instinctive attack, but can only watch, frozen, as his spell is aimed at the tent and not yourself.
It takes a moment to realize what he’s done.
******************************************************************
“PROTEGO!”
Your heart jumps into your throat as you scramble out of bed. One hand fumbles with your glasses as the other simultaneously reaches under the pillow for your wand.
You catch sight of the sword on the table. Common sense tells you to hide it, but your heart prevails and you race toward the tent opening--
Only to be repelled by an invisible barrier.
Anxiously you look outside, relieved to see that you aren’t under attack. Hermione, however, looks fit to kill.
“You selfish arse!”
Sighing, you head back to bed, hoping they’ll have worked it out by morning.
******************************************************************
The blood drains from your face when you realize that it’s Hermione standing a few feet from you and not some deatheater or snatcher intent on earning reward galleons.
Swallowing hard, you struggle to you feet, hands shaking from the initial fear as well as the subsequent shock at the idea that you could've hurt her had you not aimed your wand at the tent.
Hurt her when all you wanted to do was protect her.
Harry’s standing just inside the tent opening, disheveled and confused and you’re about to tell him that everything is fine.
“You selfish arse."
Apparently you’re wrong.
******************************************************************
Images of the past swirl in your mind’s eye as Ron struggles to his feet.
Sitting atop a chess piece waiting to be taken.
Running off to face his greatest fear after you’d been petrified.
Standing on a broken leg boldly protecting Harry from Sirius.
Sulking in a corner as you danced with Viktor Krum.
Hiding the painful scars that crisscross his arms and chest.
Lying still and unresponsive after drinking poisoned mead.
Pushing you out of harm’s way when Dolohov and Rowle attacked in the cafe.
Suddenly you realize that he was ready to sacrifice himself all over again.
******************************************************************
For a moment you’re unsure if Hermione’s talking to you or Harry.
Then she’s stomping across the snow, her posture rigid and hands clenched into fists and it takes every ounce of willpower not to take a step backwards in retreat. Coming to a stop just inches from you she draws one arm back. You flinch, waiting for the slap that is sure to follow.
Only it doesn’t.
Instead she pockets her wand and reaches out, grabbing fistfuls of your cloak as she buries her head against your chest. “How could you?” She murmurs over and over into your jumper.
******************************************************************
“Hermione?” Ron whispers uncertainly. His hands tentatively touch the back of your shoulders, neither pulling you closer nor pushing you away. But it serves to anchor you, as does listening to his furiously beating heart under your ear.
You swallow hard, forcing the panic that you felt to the back of your mind, as you slowly pull your head away to look up to him. The concern on his face nearly does you in again. “Why use a shield charm, Ron?”
He looks away and his touch is gone, as his hands fall to his sides. “You know why, Hermione.”
******************************************************************
“Don’t you dare turn away,” she shouts. “What if it wasn’t me outside the tent? Don’t you know what could have happened to you?”
You sigh. “Yes. I do.” Apparently a succinct answer wasn’t what Hermione was looking for and she clouts you hard on the arm in response. “Ow. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You were going to blindly sacrifice yourself to some unknown threat,” she replies, quickly. “That’s plenty wrong, Ron.”
“I’d do it again.” And you mean it. And by the look on her face, Hermione knows it too.
“Harry can take care of himself.”
“I know.”
******************************************************************
This whole mess hasn’t been about Harry at all.
“I’m perfectly capable of defending myself,” you cry indignantly. But even as the words come out of your mouth, you can’t help but remember how badly things almost went with the snake at Godric’s Hollow.
“I won’t take that chance.” There’s grim determination in his voice and you’re caught between hitting him again and hugging him.
“If you even so much as think about putting yourself in harm’s way again to protect me, I’ll never forgive you, Ronald Weasley.”
“Yeah, well, we both know what that’s like.”
“Don’t be so presumptuous!”
******************************************************************
It was that word.
It brings forth memories that you’d rather gouge your eyes out than to witness again. Images of Hermione and Harry together. Together. You press your balled fists into your eyes, willing the most horrible night of your life so far to fade.
“Ron?”
Her voice is warm and full of concern, and you want nothing more than for her to leave so you can deal with this alone. “Go back to the tent. It’s getting late.” You brush by her and settle once more on top of the rock. “Next watch isn’t for a few hours.”
******************************************************************
He’s dismissing you.
He’s turning his back, physically and emotional and it grates on your last nerve. This isn’t Ron. This isn’t the same boy who’d argue with you until his face matched the color of his hair.
Something is wrong.
You move to stand in front of him. “Ron?” He ignores you, averting his eyes.
However, you won’t be deterred. “Ron, what happened?”
He let’s out an explosive breath. “I told you, I thought you were a deatheater and I--”
“No,” you interrupt him. “I want you to tell me what happened when you and Harry destroyed the locket.”
♥
Author: writerwannabe
Prompt: Secret
Rating: PG
Word Count:100
Warnings: DH Spoilers
Notes: I'm going to do something a little different. This is a multi part drabble series that takes place during the horcrux hunt. Each 100 word drabble will be told in a different point of view.
Remember: comments are more than love; they're therapeutic!
PART 19
NOTE: we're FINALLY getting to the heart of the matter!
You insist on taking the late watch and Harry gives you a cursory glance before nodding and making his way toward his bunk. Ducking out of the tent, you hear Harry and Hermione’s whispered ‘goodnights’ but know hers was not directed at you. Outside snow is falling and you pull your cloak even tighter around your body to protect against the biting wind. Walking around the perimeter to ensure that the protective charms are still holding, you settle atop a large rock and wait. Since destroying the locket, you can’t allow yourself to fall asleep. Not since the nightmares began.
******************************************************************
You’re worried about Ron. He’s taken the late watch every night for the past two weeks and barely sleeps more than ten minutes at a time before jerking awake, plagued by nightmares. Time after time he shrugs off your concern, insisting that he’s ‘all right’. You know that he’s anything but.
You never knew the depth of Ron’s fears when it came to his self worth. That he thought you and Hermione…
You sigh.
Ron drapes his cloak around his shoulders and shuffles towards the tent opening, nodding before disappearing into the night.
Hermione slips into her bed. “Goodnight Harry.”
******************************************************************
“You awake?”
You lift your head a bit and peer into the darkness in the direction of Harry’s bunk. “Barely.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles apologetically. You take that as a sign that you’ll continue this conversation in the morning. You settle back down and just before your eyes slip shut once more, his low voice fills the tent.
“I think you should talk to him.”
“Harry-“
“It’s been weeks,” he implores you. “We can’t go on like this. He’s not sleeping.”
“It’s not my fault that he has a guilty conscience,” you whisper, drawing on your anger. “I don’t care.”
******************************************************************
“Hermione?”
“I said I don’t care, Harry.”
She means it. And Ron knows that and it only adds to the problem at hand. But you swore to him that you wouldn’t tell her the truth about the locket. It hurts you to see how he takes the brunt of her anger with weary acceptance and a part of you knows that her silence only reinforces his fears. “Hermione, please!”
“He left us!” She practically shouts this and you can’t help but wonder if she’s done it on purpose so that he’ll
hear.
“He’s back,” you reply softly. “Isn’t that enough?”
******************************************************************
“He left us!"
You cringe and hang your head as her biting words are carried by the wind to where you keep vigil. For weeks you’ve kept your distance in hopes that she’d come around and forgive you. Her cold stares and harsh remarks do little to bolster your resolve to keep up an effort to appease her anger. It’s clear that she doesn’t want to forgive you for your transgressions. You swore to yourself that you’d do everything to protect them.
You failed.
And the locket? It still manages to haunt you.
You should have told Hermione the truth.
******************************************************************
“No.”
You hear the rustling of his bed sheets, followed by soft, shuffling footfalls drawing near. The bed dips as Harry perches on the edge and he blindly reaches out and finds your arm in the darkness.
“Hermione?”
You’re angry that Harry is so quick to forgive. Sitting up, you pull your arm out of his grasp. “It isn’t that simple.”
“Why can’t it be?” Harry implores you.
Because, you think, he’s hurt you in ways that you can’t confide to Harry. “It just can’t.”
“He’s made amends.”
You glance over at the tent opening. “Not to me he hasn’t.”
******************************************************************
You’re torn.
Your best mates are hurting and there’s little you can do to rectify the situation, without betraying Ron’s trust. They’ve been dancing around an unspoken attraction since the Yule Ball and the tension has been building steadily ever since. But you wonder now if it’ll ever come to a head. “Will he ever be able to?”
“To what?” Confusion colors her words.
“Make amends to you.”
“I don’t know.”
You sigh. “Then I think it’s time that I told you that Ron and I weren’t completely honest with you after we retrieved the sword and destroyed the locket.”
******************************************************************
You’re beyond livid at both of them. They’ve been keeping this secret from you for weeks now.
Weeks.
Harry hadn’t gone into any details when it came to what transpired after Ron rescued him from the lake. He only mentioned that it had affected Ron deeply. Ginny had once confided in you about all the terrible things Riddle’s diary had done before Harry was able to destroy it with the basilisk fang. What if the locket was no different?
Scrambling out of bed, you quickly slip on your trainers and traveling cloak.
There was only one way to find out.
******************************************************************
The cold air, which helped to keep you awake and alert earlier, is now lulling you into a false sense of comfort. Your eyes drift shut as the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you for weeks finally catches up and sleep claims you.
Crack
Your eyes snap open at the disturbance.
There’s no time to think.
You tighten your grip on your wand, whipping it around as you dive off the rock and onto the ground.
“PROTEGO!”
The wand, however, isn’t pointed near the perceived threat as the spell shoots from the tip and heads towards the opening of the tent.
******************************************************************
You storm out of the tent and into the icy darkness in search of answers, intent on uncovering whatever secrets Ron might be keeping. You spot his huddled form near the edge of the campsite and carefully pick your way across the snow covered ground.
Crack
You inadvertently step on a fallen branch and Ron jerks to life, swinging his wand into view. You bring your own up to defend yourself from his instinctive attack, but can only watch, frozen, as his spell is aimed at the tent and not yourself.
It takes a moment to realize what he’s done.
******************************************************************
“PROTEGO!”
Your heart jumps into your throat as you scramble out of bed. One hand fumbles with your glasses as the other simultaneously reaches under the pillow for your wand.
You catch sight of the sword on the table. Common sense tells you to hide it, but your heart prevails and you race toward the tent opening--
Only to be repelled by an invisible barrier.
Anxiously you look outside, relieved to see that you aren’t under attack. Hermione, however, looks fit to kill.
“You selfish arse!”
Sighing, you head back to bed, hoping they’ll have worked it out by morning.
******************************************************************
The blood drains from your face when you realize that it’s Hermione standing a few feet from you and not some deatheater or snatcher intent on earning reward galleons.
Swallowing hard, you struggle to you feet, hands shaking from the initial fear as well as the subsequent shock at the idea that you could've hurt her had you not aimed your wand at the tent.
Hurt her when all you wanted to do was protect her.
Harry’s standing just inside the tent opening, disheveled and confused and you’re about to tell him that everything is fine.
“You selfish arse."
Apparently you’re wrong.
******************************************************************
Images of the past swirl in your mind’s eye as Ron struggles to his feet.
Sitting atop a chess piece waiting to be taken.
Running off to face his greatest fear after you’d been petrified.
Standing on a broken leg boldly protecting Harry from Sirius.
Sulking in a corner as you danced with Viktor Krum.
Hiding the painful scars that crisscross his arms and chest.
Lying still and unresponsive after drinking poisoned mead.
Pushing you out of harm’s way when Dolohov and Rowle attacked in the cafe.
Suddenly you realize that he was ready to sacrifice himself all over again.
******************************************************************
For a moment you’re unsure if Hermione’s talking to you or Harry.
Then she’s stomping across the snow, her posture rigid and hands clenched into fists and it takes every ounce of willpower not to take a step backwards in retreat. Coming to a stop just inches from you she draws one arm back. You flinch, waiting for the slap that is sure to follow.
Only it doesn’t.
Instead she pockets her wand and reaches out, grabbing fistfuls of your cloak as she buries her head against your chest. “How could you?” She murmurs over and over into your jumper.
******************************************************************
“Hermione?” Ron whispers uncertainly. His hands tentatively touch the back of your shoulders, neither pulling you closer nor pushing you away. But it serves to anchor you, as does listening to his furiously beating heart under your ear.
You swallow hard, forcing the panic that you felt to the back of your mind, as you slowly pull your head away to look up to him. The concern on his face nearly does you in again. “Why use a shield charm, Ron?”
He looks away and his touch is gone, as his hands fall to his sides. “You know why, Hermione.”
******************************************************************
“Don’t you dare turn away,” she shouts. “What if it wasn’t me outside the tent? Don’t you know what could have happened to you?”
You sigh. “Yes. I do.” Apparently a succinct answer wasn’t what Hermione was looking for and she clouts you hard on the arm in response. “Ow. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You were going to blindly sacrifice yourself to some unknown threat,” she replies, quickly. “That’s plenty wrong, Ron.”
“I’d do it again.” And you mean it. And by the look on her face, Hermione knows it too.
“Harry can take care of himself.”
“I know.”
******************************************************************
This whole mess hasn’t been about Harry at all.
“I’m perfectly capable of defending myself,” you cry indignantly. But even as the words come out of your mouth, you can’t help but remember how badly things almost went with the snake at Godric’s Hollow.
“I won’t take that chance.” There’s grim determination in his voice and you’re caught between hitting him again and hugging him.
“If you even so much as think about putting yourself in harm’s way again to protect me, I’ll never forgive you, Ronald Weasley.”
“Yeah, well, we both know what that’s like.”
“Don’t be so presumptuous!”
******************************************************************
It was that word.
It brings forth memories that you’d rather gouge your eyes out than to witness again. Images of Hermione and Harry together. Together. You press your balled fists into your eyes, willing the most horrible night of your life so far to fade.
“Ron?”
Her voice is warm and full of concern, and you want nothing more than for her to leave so you can deal with this alone. “Go back to the tent. It’s getting late.” You brush by her and settle once more on top of the rock. “Next watch isn’t for a few hours.”
******************************************************************
He’s dismissing you.
He’s turning his back, physically and emotional and it grates on your last nerve. This isn’t Ron. This isn’t the same boy who’d argue with you until his face matched the color of his hair.
Something is wrong.
You move to stand in front of him. “Ron?” He ignores you, averting his eyes.
However, you won’t be deterred. “Ron, what happened?”
He let’s out an explosive breath. “I told you, I thought you were a deatheater and I--”
“No,” you interrupt him. “I want you to tell me what happened when you and Harry destroyed the locket.”
♥