How Deathly Hallows Should've Been - Part 2
Title: How Deathly Hallows Should've Been - Part 2
Pairings: Harry/Ron, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is what Deathly Hallows would probably be like if J.K. Rowling was man enough to admit that Harry and Ron are in love. ;D
Disclaimer: This compilation of scenes mostly consists of text copied directly from the first Scholastic printing of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I did not write said book, do not own the copyrights to Harry Potter and related characters, and did not have any part in the making of the Harry Potter books, movies, or any Harry Potter merchandise (licensed or otherwise). Please do not sue me.
Warnings: one bad pun :)
Notes: Considering the mega Harry/Ron slashiness undertones throughout all of DH, I thought it would be fun to edit parts here and there. I recommend reading Deathly Hallows like normal, but substituting these rewritten scenes for the canon versions. :D
Scene 4: Chapter 16 - page 312 American hardcover edition
They did not discuss Ron at all over the next few days. Harry was determined never to mention his name again, and Hermione seemed to know that it was no use forcing the issue, although sometimes at night when she thought he was sleeping, he would hear her crying, occasionally causing Harry to blink back tears of his own. Meanwhile Harry had started bringing out the Marauder’s Map and examining it by wandlight. He was waiting for the moment when Ron’s labeled dot would reappear in the corridors of Hogwarts, proving that he had returned to the comfortable castle, protected by his status of pureblood. However, Ron did not appear on the map, and after a while Harry found himself taking it out simply to stare at Ginny’s name in the girls’ dormitory, Ginny, always the next-best thing, wondering whether the intensity with which he gazed it at might break into her sleep, that she would somehow know he was thinking about her and her brother, hoping that they both were all right.
Scene 5, Section 1: Chapter 19 - page 370 American hardcover edition
Harry had no strength to lift his head and see his savior’s identity. All he could do was raise a shaking hand to his throat and feel the place where the locket had cut tightly into his flesh. It was gone; Someone had cut him free. Then a panting voice spoke from over his head.
“Are - you - mental?”
Nothing but the shock of hearing that voice could have given Harry the strength to get up. Shivering violently, he staggered to his feet. There before him stood Ron, fully dressed but drenched to the skin, his hair plastered to his face, the sword of Gryffindor in one hand and the Horcrux dangling from its broken chain in the other.
“Why the hell,” panted Ron, holding up the Horcrux, which swung backward and forward on its shortened chain in some parody of hypnosis, “didn’t you take this thing off before you dived?”
Harry could not answer. The silver doe was nothing, nothing compared with Ron’s reappearance; he could not believe it. He just stood, shuddering with cold.
Ron took in Harry’s state, and, shaking his head as though to clear it, grabbed the pile of clothes still lying at the water’s edge and handed them to Harry.
As he dragged sweater after sweater over his head, Harry stared at Ron, half expecting him to have disappeared every time he lost sight of him, and yet he had to be real: He had just dived into the pool, he had saved Harry’s life. Harry had felt his clothed arms on his own bare skin.
“It was y-you?” Harry said at last, his teeth chattering, his voice weaker than usual due to his near-strangulation.
“Well, yeah,” said Ron, looking slightly confused.
“Y-you cast that doe?”
“What? No, of course not! I thought it was you doing it!”
“My Patronus is a stag.”
“Oh yeah. I thought it looked different. No antlers.”
Harry put Hagrid’s pouch back around his neck, pulled on a final sweater, stooped to pick up Hermione’s wand, and faced Ron again.
“How come you’re here?”
Apparently Ron had hoped that this point would come up later, if at all.
“Well, I’ve - you know - I’ve come back. If - ” He cleared his throat. “You know. You still want me.”
There was a pause in which the subject of Ron’s departure seemed to rise like a wall between them. Yet he was here. He had returned. He had just saved Harry’s life. And Harry wanted him more than he ever had before now that they had had their first fight since fourth year.
Scene 5, Section 2: Chapter 19 - page 375 American hardcover edition
Ron raised the sword in his shaking hands: The point dangled over the frantically swiveling eyes, and Harry gripped the locket tightly, bracing himself, already imagining blood pouring from the empty windows.
Then a voice hissed from out of the Horcrux.
“I have seen your heart, and it is mine.”
“Don’t listen to it!” Harry said harshly. “Stab it!”
“I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible…”
“Stab!” shouted Harry; his voice echoed off the surrounding trees, the sword point trembled, and Ron gazed down into Riddle’s eyes.
“Least loved, always, but the mother who craved a daughter…Least loved, now, by your friends who prefer each other…Second best, always, eternally overshadowed..”
“Ron, stab it now!” Harry bellowed: He could feel the locket quivering in his grip and was scared on what was coming. Ron raised the sword still higher, and as he did so, Riddle’s eyes gleamed scarlet.
Out of the locket’s two windows, out of the eyes, there bloomed, like two grotesque bubbles, the heads of Harry and Hermione, weirdly distorted.
Ron yelled in shock and backed away as the figures blossomed out of the locket, first chests, then waists, then legs, until they stood in the locket, side by side like trees with a common root, swaying over Ron and the real Harry, who had snatched his fingers away from the locket as it burned, suddenly, white-hot.
“Ron!” he shouted, but the Riddle-Harry was now speaking with Voldemort’s voice and Ron was gazing, mesmerized, into its face.
Scene 5, Section 3: Chapter 19 - page 378 American hardcover edition
The sword clanged as Ron dropped it. He had sunk to his knees, his head in his arms. He was shaking, but not, Harry realized, from the cold. Harry crammed the broken locket into his pocket, knelt down beside Ron, and placed a hand cautiously on his shoulder. He took it as a good sign that Ron did not throw it off.
“She’s like my sister,” he said in a low voice, grateful for the fact that Ron’s face was hidden. “I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It’s always been like that. I thought you knew. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone…”
He could not finish; it was only now that Ron was here again that Harry fully realized how much his absence had cost not only Harry, but Hermione, and Harry’s relationship with her as well.
“After you left,” he went on, “she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see.”
Ron slowly raised his face, his bloodshot eyes meeting Harry’s with a fierce intensity, but he was otherwise composed.
“Not her, you git,” he said.
Harry gaped at him. “What?” he said, barely managing the words.
Ron turned his face away from Harry and wiped his nose noisily on his sleeve, then clambered to his feet as Harry did the same.
“She…It’d be nice, wouldn’t it, if it happened, but I reckon we fight too much. But you…” Ron looked down at his feet, “you’re different.”
“Ron,” Harry said, suddenly possessed with a desperate urge to disclaim Riddle-Harry’s words, “I - I never…You’re just as great a person as me, I don’t think you’re stupid, or a coward, or - ”
Ron walked forward and hugged him and Harry closed his mouth, moving to grip the still-sopping back of Ron’s jacket.
“I’m sorry,” Ron said in a thick voice as they held onto each other. “I’m sorry I left. I know I was a - a - ”
He detached an arm from around Harry and gestured at the darkness, as if hoping a bad enough word swoop down onto his hand and claim him.
“You’ve sort of made up for it tonight,” said Harry. “Getting the sword. Finishing off the Horcrux. Saving my life. This.”
“That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was,” Ron mumbled.
“Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was,” said Harry. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”
Ron pulled back a bit and for a second they just looked at each other.
“Like a sister, eh?” Ron asked.
Simultaneously Harry lifted his head and Ron bent his, and they kissed, brief and chaste, nothing like Harry’s last kiss with Ginny but much more welcome.
“And now,” said Harry as they broke apart, both grinning, “all we’ve got to do is find the tent again.”
He walked to where Ron’s enormous rucksack lay yards away, discarded as Ron had run toward the pool to save Harry from drowning, hoisted it onto his own back, and started off with Ron.
Scene 6: Chapter 20, page 388 American hardcover edition
Harry had not expected Hermione’s anger to abate overnight, and was therefore unsurprised that she communicated mainly by dirty looks and pointed silences the next morning. Ron responded by maintaining an unnaturally somber demeanor in her presence as an outward sign of continuing remorse. In fact, when all three of them were together Harry felt like the only non-mourner at a poorly attended funeral. During those few moments he spent alone with Harry, however (collecting water and searching the undergrowth for mushrooms), Ron sometimes lightly flirted with Harry and was always shamelessly cheery.
“Someone helped us,” he kept saying. “Someone sent that doe. Someone’s on our side. One Horcrux down, mate!”
Bolstered by the destruction of the locket, they set to debating the possible locations of the other Horcruxes, and even though they had discussed the matter so often before, Harry felt optimistic, certain that more breakthroughs would succeed the first. Hermione’s sulkiness could not mar his buoyant spirits: The sudden upswing in their fortunes, the appearance of the mysterious doe, the recovery of Gryffindor’s sword, and above all, Ron’s return and their kiss, made Harry so gay that it was quite difficult to maintain a straight face.
Comments are more than welcome! I apologize for the bad pun in that last line...it was just so easy to do I couldn't resist. ;) Part three should be up within a week.
Part 3 is here
Part 1 is here
Pairings: Harry/Ron, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is what Deathly Hallows would probably be like if J.K. Rowling was man enough to admit that Harry and Ron are in love. ;D
Disclaimer: This compilation of scenes mostly consists of text copied directly from the first Scholastic printing of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I did not write said book, do not own the copyrights to Harry Potter and related characters, and did not have any part in the making of the Harry Potter books, movies, or any Harry Potter merchandise (licensed or otherwise). Please do not sue me.
Warnings: one bad pun :)
Notes: Considering the mega Harry/Ron slashiness undertones throughout all of DH, I thought it would be fun to edit parts here and there. I recommend reading Deathly Hallows like normal, but substituting these rewritten scenes for the canon versions. :D
Scene 4: Chapter 16 - page 312 American hardcover edition
They did not discuss Ron at all over the next few days. Harry was determined never to mention his name again, and Hermione seemed to know that it was no use forcing the issue, although sometimes at night when she thought he was sleeping, he would hear her crying, occasionally causing Harry to blink back tears of his own. Meanwhile Harry had started bringing out the Marauder’s Map and examining it by wandlight. He was waiting for the moment when Ron’s labeled dot would reappear in the corridors of Hogwarts, proving that he had returned to the comfortable castle, protected by his status of pureblood. However, Ron did not appear on the map, and after a while Harry found himself taking it out simply to stare at Ginny’s name in the girls’ dormitory, Ginny, always the next-best thing, wondering whether the intensity with which he gazed it at might break into her sleep, that she would somehow know he was thinking about her and her brother, hoping that they both were all right.
Scene 5, Section 1: Chapter 19 - page 370 American hardcover edition
Harry had no strength to lift his head and see his savior’s identity. All he could do was raise a shaking hand to his throat and feel the place where the locket had cut tightly into his flesh. It was gone; Someone had cut him free. Then a panting voice spoke from over his head.
“Are - you - mental?”
Nothing but the shock of hearing that voice could have given Harry the strength to get up. Shivering violently, he staggered to his feet. There before him stood Ron, fully dressed but drenched to the skin, his hair plastered to his face, the sword of Gryffindor in one hand and the Horcrux dangling from its broken chain in the other.
“Why the hell,” panted Ron, holding up the Horcrux, which swung backward and forward on its shortened chain in some parody of hypnosis, “didn’t you take this thing off before you dived?”
Harry could not answer. The silver doe was nothing, nothing compared with Ron’s reappearance; he could not believe it. He just stood, shuddering with cold.
Ron took in Harry’s state, and, shaking his head as though to clear it, grabbed the pile of clothes still lying at the water’s edge and handed them to Harry.
As he dragged sweater after sweater over his head, Harry stared at Ron, half expecting him to have disappeared every time he lost sight of him, and yet he had to be real: He had just dived into the pool, he had saved Harry’s life. Harry had felt his clothed arms on his own bare skin.
“It was y-you?” Harry said at last, his teeth chattering, his voice weaker than usual due to his near-strangulation.
“Well, yeah,” said Ron, looking slightly confused.
“Y-you cast that doe?”
“What? No, of course not! I thought it was you doing it!”
“My Patronus is a stag.”
“Oh yeah. I thought it looked different. No antlers.”
Harry put Hagrid’s pouch back around his neck, pulled on a final sweater, stooped to pick up Hermione’s wand, and faced Ron again.
“How come you’re here?”
Apparently Ron had hoped that this point would come up later, if at all.
“Well, I’ve - you know - I’ve come back. If - ” He cleared his throat. “You know. You still want me.”
There was a pause in which the subject of Ron’s departure seemed to rise like a wall between them. Yet he was here. He had returned. He had just saved Harry’s life. And Harry wanted him more than he ever had before now that they had had their first fight since fourth year.
Scene 5, Section 2: Chapter 19 - page 375 American hardcover edition
Ron raised the sword in his shaking hands: The point dangled over the frantically swiveling eyes, and Harry gripped the locket tightly, bracing himself, already imagining blood pouring from the empty windows.
Then a voice hissed from out of the Horcrux.
“I have seen your heart, and it is mine.”
“Don’t listen to it!” Harry said harshly. “Stab it!”
“I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible…”
“Stab!” shouted Harry; his voice echoed off the surrounding trees, the sword point trembled, and Ron gazed down into Riddle’s eyes.
“Least loved, always, but the mother who craved a daughter…Least loved, now, by your friends who prefer each other…Second best, always, eternally overshadowed..”
“Ron, stab it now!” Harry bellowed: He could feel the locket quivering in his grip and was scared on what was coming. Ron raised the sword still higher, and as he did so, Riddle’s eyes gleamed scarlet.
Out of the locket’s two windows, out of the eyes, there bloomed, like two grotesque bubbles, the heads of Harry and Hermione, weirdly distorted.
Ron yelled in shock and backed away as the figures blossomed out of the locket, first chests, then waists, then legs, until they stood in the locket, side by side like trees with a common root, swaying over Ron and the real Harry, who had snatched his fingers away from the locket as it burned, suddenly, white-hot.
“Ron!” he shouted, but the Riddle-Harry was now speaking with Voldemort’s voice and Ron was gazing, mesmerized, into its face.
Scene 5, Section 3: Chapter 19 - page 378 American hardcover edition
The sword clanged as Ron dropped it. He had sunk to his knees, his head in his arms. He was shaking, but not, Harry realized, from the cold. Harry crammed the broken locket into his pocket, knelt down beside Ron, and placed a hand cautiously on his shoulder. He took it as a good sign that Ron did not throw it off.
“She’s like my sister,” he said in a low voice, grateful for the fact that Ron’s face was hidden. “I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It’s always been like that. I thought you knew. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone…”
He could not finish; it was only now that Ron was here again that Harry fully realized how much his absence had cost not only Harry, but Hermione, and Harry’s relationship with her as well.
“After you left,” he went on, “she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see.”
Ron slowly raised his face, his bloodshot eyes meeting Harry’s with a fierce intensity, but he was otherwise composed.
“Not her, you git,” he said.
Harry gaped at him. “What?” he said, barely managing the words.
Ron turned his face away from Harry and wiped his nose noisily on his sleeve, then clambered to his feet as Harry did the same.
“She…It’d be nice, wouldn’t it, if it happened, but I reckon we fight too much. But you…” Ron looked down at his feet, “you’re different.”
“Ron,” Harry said, suddenly possessed with a desperate urge to disclaim Riddle-Harry’s words, “I - I never…You’re just as great a person as me, I don’t think you’re stupid, or a coward, or - ”
Ron walked forward and hugged him and Harry closed his mouth, moving to grip the still-sopping back of Ron’s jacket.
“I’m sorry,” Ron said in a thick voice as they held onto each other. “I’m sorry I left. I know I was a - a - ”
He detached an arm from around Harry and gestured at the darkness, as if hoping a bad enough word swoop down onto his hand and claim him.
“You’ve sort of made up for it tonight,” said Harry. “Getting the sword. Finishing off the Horcrux. Saving my life. This.”
“That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was,” Ron mumbled.
“Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was,” said Harry. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”
Ron pulled back a bit and for a second they just looked at each other.
“Like a sister, eh?” Ron asked.
Simultaneously Harry lifted his head and Ron bent his, and they kissed, brief and chaste, nothing like Harry’s last kiss with Ginny but much more welcome.
“And now,” said Harry as they broke apart, both grinning, “all we’ve got to do is find the tent again.”
He walked to where Ron’s enormous rucksack lay yards away, discarded as Ron had run toward the pool to save Harry from drowning, hoisted it onto his own back, and started off with Ron.
Scene 6: Chapter 20, page 388 American hardcover edition
Harry had not expected Hermione’s anger to abate overnight, and was therefore unsurprised that she communicated mainly by dirty looks and pointed silences the next morning. Ron responded by maintaining an unnaturally somber demeanor in her presence as an outward sign of continuing remorse. In fact, when all three of them were together Harry felt like the only non-mourner at a poorly attended funeral. During those few moments he spent alone with Harry, however (collecting water and searching the undergrowth for mushrooms), Ron sometimes lightly flirted with Harry and was always shamelessly cheery.
“Someone helped us,” he kept saying. “Someone sent that doe. Someone’s on our side. One Horcrux down, mate!”
Bolstered by the destruction of the locket, they set to debating the possible locations of the other Horcruxes, and even though they had discussed the matter so often before, Harry felt optimistic, certain that more breakthroughs would succeed the first. Hermione’s sulkiness could not mar his buoyant spirits: The sudden upswing in their fortunes, the appearance of the mysterious doe, the recovery of Gryffindor’s sword, and above all, Ron’s return and their kiss, made Harry so gay that it was quite difficult to maintain a straight face.
Comments are more than welcome! I apologize for the bad pun in that last line...it was just so easy to do I couldn't resist. ;) Part three should be up within a week.
Part 3 is here
Part 1 is here