Writerverse Challenge #36: Quick Fic Amnesty.
Title: I Stopped Loving Him
Author: shaneish
Fandom: Harry Potter
Wordcount: 946 words
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Pre-Harry/Hermione
Warning(s): Mentions of Domestic Abuse
Beta(s): None.
Prompt(s): A Problem That I Cannot Explain
Summary: Hermione comes to Harry’s flat in the middle of the night.
Author’s Note: Written for Writerverse Challenge #36: Quick Fic Amnesty.
The knock at the door came at exactly 3:00 in the morning. Harry knew, because he had only recently looked at the clock from his desk, and it had been 2:55. Auror training had gone later than expected, and he hadn’t gotten home until 1am. And of course, the report was due the next morning, and he wasn't very good at writing reports yet. It was like being back at Hogwarts, doing homework again. Only this time he didn’t have Hermione to look over his shoulder and correct his grammar.
Truly, it was something of a relief to be disturbed, though he couldn’t imagine who would be at his door in the middle of the night.
Barefoot, he walked out of his study-library and down the hall, through the sitting room and to the front door of his flat. He was wearing jeans and a white undershirt, preferring muggle clothes to robes when he was at home. He peered through the peephole, surprised at what he saw. Her bushy brown hair was messier than usual, and her eyes were red from crying, but it was definitely Hermione.
He opened the door, ushering her inside.
“Hermione! What’s the matter?” he asked, automatically wrapping his arms around her in a hug. She burid her face in the crook of his neck and heaved a large sob. He could feel her wet tears against his neck, and realized something - he had absolutely no idea what to do. He hadn’t had to deal with a crying woman since his fifth year, when Cho fell to pieces on him.
He didn’t count that time with Ginny, because even though she was crying, she was cursing him at the same time. Her Bat Bogey Hex was as terrifying as ever.
He awkwardly ran his hand down her back, rubbing her soothingly. He had seen his Aunt Petunia comfort Dudley that way when he was a child, and he had always wondered what it would be like to be held like that.
“Shh, Hermione, it’s alright. Come on, let’s sit down and I’ll make some tea and you can tell me what’s wrong.” He said soothingly, slowly leading her through the sitting room and to the couch, slowly sitting down.
“I’m sorry, Harry.” Hermione whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to cry all over you.” She said, recovering herself somewhat. She wiped her eyes with the handkerchief that she clutched in her hands, hiccuping slightly.
“It’s alright, Hermione.” He said, not really minding it in the least. “What happened?” he asked, though when he looked down and noticed a small, beaded bag in her hand, he started to guess.
Things after the was hand’t exactly worked out like they had planned. Ginny and he had broken up only months after Voldemort’s defeat. And though Ron and Hermione had gotten married, as expected, the marriage wasn’t a happy one. Ron was always coming over drunk and complaining about Hermione’s nagging, and this wasn’t the first time that Hermione had come over with red eyes, though it was the worst.
“It’s Ronald.” She said, sounding nearly broken. “He… he came home drunk, and he… he hit me.” The last words came out whispered so quietly that normally Harry would never had heard them. But they seemed to ring in the air, echoing off the walls.
He hit me.
Red hot anger surged through Harry. His teeth clenched with the effort not to erupt in anger and upset Hermione more, his hands forming into fists. He could feel his fingernails digging into his palms, and took a deep breath, doing his best to remain calm. The urge to leave his flat, grab Neville, and beat Ron to a pulp was almost overwhelming.
“He hit you?” he repeated slowly, staring at the ground.
Hermione nodded. Now that he knew to notice it, her left cheek looked red. He could even see the handprint forming. She would have a bruise in the morning.
He took a deep breath, forcing his anger down. He had to concentrate on Hermione at the moment.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, wanting to make sure he didn’t do anything she didn’t want to happen. He didn’t want to cause her any more grief.
Hermione shrugged, something that was distinctly unlike her. “I don’t know.”
If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Harry would have smiled. He didn’t think he had ever heard those words from Hermione, and if he had, it had never been in such a defeated tone.
“Yes you do.” He said confidently. If he knew Hermione, and he was sure that he did, she had formed a plan as soon as Ron had raised his hand against her. “You know that you do. I’ll support whatever it is you decide, Hermione. Even if it means I can’t curse that bastard into oblivion.”
Hermione managed a small smile. “Thanks, Harry.” She straightened slightly, speaking in a more confident tone. “You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “Can I stay here tonight?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, of course. Stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks. Let’s just… forget about Ron tonight. We can think about what to do to him in the morning.” She said, wiping her face once more and stowing her handkerchief in her pocket.
“You know, I’m actually glad this happened.” She said, smiling a bit.
Harry was confused.
“Glad? Why?” he asked.
“Because I stopped loving Ron a long time ago. I think I only married him because everyone expected it of us. Besides, you and Ginny were engaged, and…”
“And what?”
“And you were the only other man I could imagine being with.”
Author: shaneish
Fandom: Harry Potter
Wordcount: 946 words
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Pre-Harry/Hermione
Warning(s): Mentions of Domestic Abuse
Beta(s): None.
Prompt(s): A Problem That I Cannot Explain
Summary: Hermione comes to Harry’s flat in the middle of the night.
Author’s Note: Written for Writerverse Challenge #36: Quick Fic Amnesty.
The knock at the door came at exactly 3:00 in the morning. Harry knew, because he had only recently looked at the clock from his desk, and it had been 2:55. Auror training had gone later than expected, and he hadn’t gotten home until 1am. And of course, the report was due the next morning, and he wasn't very good at writing reports yet. It was like being back at Hogwarts, doing homework again. Only this time he didn’t have Hermione to look over his shoulder and correct his grammar.
Truly, it was something of a relief to be disturbed, though he couldn’t imagine who would be at his door in the middle of the night.
Barefoot, he walked out of his study-library and down the hall, through the sitting room and to the front door of his flat. He was wearing jeans and a white undershirt, preferring muggle clothes to robes when he was at home. He peered through the peephole, surprised at what he saw. Her bushy brown hair was messier than usual, and her eyes were red from crying, but it was definitely Hermione.
He opened the door, ushering her inside.
“Hermione! What’s the matter?” he asked, automatically wrapping his arms around her in a hug. She burid her face in the crook of his neck and heaved a large sob. He could feel her wet tears against his neck, and realized something - he had absolutely no idea what to do. He hadn’t had to deal with a crying woman since his fifth year, when Cho fell to pieces on him.
He didn’t count that time with Ginny, because even though she was crying, she was cursing him at the same time. Her Bat Bogey Hex was as terrifying as ever.
He awkwardly ran his hand down her back, rubbing her soothingly. He had seen his Aunt Petunia comfort Dudley that way when he was a child, and he had always wondered what it would be like to be held like that.
“Shh, Hermione, it’s alright. Come on, let’s sit down and I’ll make some tea and you can tell me what’s wrong.” He said soothingly, slowly leading her through the sitting room and to the couch, slowly sitting down.
“I’m sorry, Harry.” Hermione whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to cry all over you.” She said, recovering herself somewhat. She wiped her eyes with the handkerchief that she clutched in her hands, hiccuping slightly.
“It’s alright, Hermione.” He said, not really minding it in the least. “What happened?” he asked, though when he looked down and noticed a small, beaded bag in her hand, he started to guess.
Things after the was hand’t exactly worked out like they had planned. Ginny and he had broken up only months after Voldemort’s defeat. And though Ron and Hermione had gotten married, as expected, the marriage wasn’t a happy one. Ron was always coming over drunk and complaining about Hermione’s nagging, and this wasn’t the first time that Hermione had come over with red eyes, though it was the worst.
“It’s Ronald.” She said, sounding nearly broken. “He… he came home drunk, and he… he hit me.” The last words came out whispered so quietly that normally Harry would never had heard them. But they seemed to ring in the air, echoing off the walls.
He hit me.
Red hot anger surged through Harry. His teeth clenched with the effort not to erupt in anger and upset Hermione more, his hands forming into fists. He could feel his fingernails digging into his palms, and took a deep breath, doing his best to remain calm. The urge to leave his flat, grab Neville, and beat Ron to a pulp was almost overwhelming.
“He hit you?” he repeated slowly, staring at the ground.
Hermione nodded. Now that he knew to notice it, her left cheek looked red. He could even see the handprint forming. She would have a bruise in the morning.
He took a deep breath, forcing his anger down. He had to concentrate on Hermione at the moment.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, wanting to make sure he didn’t do anything she didn’t want to happen. He didn’t want to cause her any more grief.
Hermione shrugged, something that was distinctly unlike her. “I don’t know.”
If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Harry would have smiled. He didn’t think he had ever heard those words from Hermione, and if he had, it had never been in such a defeated tone.
“Yes you do.” He said confidently. If he knew Hermione, and he was sure that he did, she had formed a plan as soon as Ron had raised his hand against her. “You know that you do. I’ll support whatever it is you decide, Hermione. Even if it means I can’t curse that bastard into oblivion.”
Hermione managed a small smile. “Thanks, Harry.” She straightened slightly, speaking in a more confident tone. “You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “Can I stay here tonight?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, of course. Stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks. Let’s just… forget about Ron tonight. We can think about what to do to him in the morning.” She said, wiping her face once more and stowing her handkerchief in her pocket.
“You know, I’m actually glad this happened.” She said, smiling a bit.
Harry was confused.
“Glad? Why?” he asked.
“Because I stopped loving Ron a long time ago. I think I only married him because everyone expected it of us. Besides, you and Ginny were engaged, and…”
“And what?”
“And you were the only other man I could imagine being with.”