"soaring part 1" by gingerbred
May. 29th, 2023 10:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
christmasspiritSummer and Autumn 1998. Post-war, eighth year Hogwarts. Drarry; past Hinny. blink-and-you'll-miss-it background / past Romione.
Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco are trying to put themselves back together again in the wake of the second wizarding war, some with greater success than others, but then it's always easier with help - if you'll accept it, that is.
Warning: some Ron bashing, but he's just not in a great place at the moment; TW genre typical violence, non-graphic description of a possible attempted SA.
Written with oodles of love forlostangelsoul3. Happy Birthday, hun! 🎂🎁 🥳🎉 (Here, finally, the long promised Drarry. I don't even know if you're still reading the pairing (soz, probably should have asked), but I swore I'd finally clean up my clipboard, so here we are. Better late than never. Hope you have a lovely day either way, and many happy returns.)
Characters: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Molly Weasley
Summer 1998. Harry, Hermione and Ron are struggling in the aftermath of the war. Not everyone is well equipped to come to terms with their situations.
Originally Published: 2023-05-29 on LJ / DW
Words: 3.1 k
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Characters: Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker), Hermione Granger (8G, Head Girl), Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Keeper), Ginny Weasley (7G, Chaser)
Background: Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker, prisoner of the DMLE), Severus Snape (Head of Slytherin and Deputy Headmaster, patient in St. Mungo's), Molly Weasley (ginger matriarch)
For a little while in the immediate aftermath of the war, Harry reckons Gin had tried to carry on as if things were the same, both between them and in their lives as a whole. They weren't. They couldn't be. Hogwarts was practically a graveyard, the school itself was still half a pile of rubble, the people, the bastards who hadn't seen fit to actually fight in the war had now - belatedly - come crawling out of the woodwork, brimming with hindsight and all their far, far better ideas, and overeager, downright thirsting, to punish, as if doing so eradicated, absolved, their years of inaction, and Snape and Malfoy were about to be tried. Snape, poor sod, wasn't even conscious yet, and they were like to see him Kissed, Dementors just wafting at the ready like some foul odour.
After everything the man had done for them!
They couldn't leave it at that, obviously, but in very real ways it was as if the battle had never ended, Harry was still fighting, just a different enemy in a different war, and he was beyond knackered.
But even Gin's heart wasn't in it, Harry's sure. Their kisses, no matter how rich in affection, were nevertheless lacking in conviction. Timing can be everything, and they were practically right back where they'd been a year before, floundering, individually considering the merits to ending things prematurely because the situation as a whole was anything but conducive to happiness.
It was weird and sort of interesting contrasting it to Ron's and Hermione's deal, which of course was a great way not to think about what he himself was doing, or not doing, or seek any fault there. Harry gets that, at least in retrospect, he scoffs. But yeah, he's beginning to see some appeal in just getting lost in your thoughts. Those two had shared a kiss, that's all it was really, at some point during the battle, and he only knew that much with any degree of clarity because Hermione had sought his advice.
Shortly after aforementioned kiss, almost immediately as best Harry can tell, everything had gone to hell, Fred had died and so many more, and they hadn't shared another since.
It was a lot easier to work out where you stood in a relationship, he gathered, or what you wanted from it, when it could actually be recognised as one. What was a single kiss? He hadn't had an answer for her. He still doesn't. He may be missing that she wasn't so much seeking one as trying to make sure he understood what was going on, where she was coming from, and that she didn't risk losing his friendship when things with Ron inevitably collapsed, although he'd sensed she's less secure in their friendship than he is. He probably hasn't given her as much reason to trust his loyalty as she's provided him over the years. He'd made a mental note to do better.
Things with Gin, as far as that went, came to a head - and definitely became a lot clearer - when she'd tried to kiss him one evening in early June in the library at Grimmauld Place in Ron's presence. Hardly surprising - where else would he be? save the kitchen maybe - and it had been bound to happen at some point or another. Maybe living in each other's pockets like that hadn't helped, or the stressful preparations for the trials could have been to blame, or possibly - probably - it was mostly down to how Ron was handling his grief - poorly and with somewhat more Firewhisky and rather more regularity than was good - but his friend had blown up at her, a volatile, nearly violent explosion... And yet it was just words, wasn't it? The gist of which were basically How dare Ginny move on in the wake of Fred's death? Try to be happy? Not wallow in misery like a proper sibling should? Not that Ron said any of that in that way, but as Hermione points out, Harry's emotional range is both broader and deeper than a teaspoon, and he got the message. Gin did too, of course. She gave as good as she got, the tongue lashing Ron received was really more of flogging by the time she'd finished with him, finally storming from the room with a resounding slam of the door that seemed likely to shake it off its hinges. Harry had pitied his friend in the moment.
Shortly after, Ginny broke up with Harry. Officially, because that's a thing. One thing he'd noticed, and that he regrets, he'd returned her kiss - he agreed with her in principle, they shouldn't stop living or trying to be happy, even if it was sometimes difficult. If anything, it seemed like such an affront to all the people who wouldn't get to keep living their lives... He smiles a little when he realises he's hearing that in Hermione's voice, that's how often they've spoken about stuff like that over the past weeks. But yeah, Ron hadn't blamed him for the kiss, just Ginny. He's always been harder on the girls, holding them to a different... to a double standard. And of course Harry hadn't stood up for her. He hadn't wanted another fight with his friend, certainly not about that. They'd had plenty about testifying for the Slytherins, which was basically a moral imperative, and he'd considered himself lucky enough when Ron hadn't minded him dating his sister in the first place, so... And it wasn't that Ginny had needed his help either, but as was, it still wasn't right.
"We'll still be friends, yeah?" she assured him with a wistful smile and a reassuring squeeze of his hand. "It'll be better this way." He believed her on both counts. Gin was smart that way, more than any of the 'golden Trio', even if they were all older. Naturally she also let him know that she wasn't remotely cool with Ron trying to dictate how she lives, how she grieves, nor Harry's willingness, in turn, to tolerate it, which was another thing for him to mull over, cheers. She was good enough not to point out that he hadn't had her back. He appreciates that. He suspects she knows he'd realised he'd bollocksed that right up. He promises himself he'll be a better friend moving forward, wincing that he apparently still hadn't learnt that lesson. And being a good friend? It can't be just about Ron. Hermione's sweet enough to reassure him - repeatedly - that he's right on that count in the days that follow, after Ginny returns to the Burrow and Hermione just knows, even before he tells her, comforting him as they sit there surrounded by sheaves of papers preparing for the cross examinations, people's lives hanging in the balance. And that last certainly had a way of putting things in perspective for him. Ron has long since stopped joining them as they work, typically leaving whichever room rather demonstratively whenever Hermione unpacks her notes on the matter. Their testimony should be sufficient. He's not wrong. If it isn't, Ron certainly isn't going to change a single note on that score. That's not to disparage his friend. If the Chosen One's word isn't adequate? Then they aren't going to listen to Ron. And yet it somehow feels like the ginger is sulking.
Breaking up, if that's what you'd call it, proves a lot harder for Hermione and Ron. For one thing it's a lot more difficult to end something that hadn't even exactly started, especially when at least one party is being emotionally dishonest. And Ron resolutely blocks all attempts at conversation. He tends to do so in general of late, but any time he catches even a whiff of 'relationship talk', he's gone almost as quickly as if he'd Disapparated. They hover in an ambiguous and unsatisfying limbo much of the summer, Hermione disappearing off to the school more and more frequently - ostensibly to rebuild; Harry doesn't quite buy it - whenever her presence isn't required at the Wizengamot in fact. Harry remains behind, fruitlessly trying to cajole Ron back into some semblance of normality, not that the rarity of successes keeps him from trying, but the attempts become fewer with time.
The trials themselves, somewhat stupidly interleaved, are when that particular cauldron boils over. Hermione posited, and so she was probably right, that 'they' calculated that the recitation of the sum of the Death Eaters' crimes fresh in the minds of those doing the sentencing was likely to incline them to harsher punishments across the board. Similarly the mitigating circumstances for any one individual, when mentally applied to all, wouldn't be nearly enough to excuse a bloody thing. They were very likely right about that too.
About a fortnight before Harry's birthday, Stan Shunpike is sentenced to Azkaban, and Hermione is livid. Raging. He was Imperiused and hadn't a choice. It was - she's adamant - barely shy of rape, using him in that fashion against his will, for so long, too, and to punish him for it on top of that the ultimate in victimisation. She'll appeal it! Kingsley was aware - half of Britain was aware - of her intentions, and the process had been started, but where the authorities had quite evidently let too many off after the last war with such - often threadbare - excuses, nearly two decades on they were disinclined to repeat the mistake, electing instead to compound the error by sentencing the effectively innocent. When that innocence could be proven, no less! She has a point, naturally, she usually does. If only the use of Veritaserum in court were legal, or exculpatory that is. But she's a witch on a mission now, and she means to see such a travesty of justice doesn't repeat itself, and certainly not with those whose liberty matters to her more.
Harry knows there's no arguing with her, but then he tended to agree anyway. Ron, the only one amongst them to have grown up in the wizarding world, most likely better attuned to some of its vagaries and unquestionably to its lived history, is far less willing to forgive anyone who'd been involved with Voldemort in any fashion. They can all go to hell. If everyone had only been more vigilant, he practically invokes Moody, they'd have had fewer to fight as a whole. But he's clear: fewer would have died. They know perfectly well whom he means. It's hard to argue with the body count.
Snape's case was easier for obvious reasons. 'Double agent' can forgive a multitude of sins - it can always be argued, had he had a choice? - and Dumbledore himself had effectively forgiven Snape's original sin of starting on the wrong side of the war. Malfoy's situation was a great deal more complicated, and although the charges against him were far less severe - being accused of murdering Dumbledore had a way of eclipsing pretty much everything - the arguments in his favour were equally less pronounced, the facts more prone to interpretation. For Ron, watching his friends come home every evening and put their heads together to figure out how to get Death Eaters off the hook... It's finally too much. He's furious, no more likely to hold back than he had with his sister, and every bit as prone to unloading all of the blame on Hermione, giving Harry a pass in the process as usual. That only seems to increase the resentment Ron directs towards her, though, something Hermione doesn't fail to recognise and definitely doesn't appreciate.
Harry isn't there a week before his birthday when things kick off - even when furious and less than sober, Ron is too tactical by nature for a misstep like that - but Harry pieces enough of it together afterwards. There's snark, whinging, and griping. It advances to sniping and finally outright abuse. The key phrase, it seems, is something along the lines of it's unseemly for a girlfriend of his to be carrying on as she is ('unseemly' is Hermione's word in the later recounting and almost definitely not Ron's), which seems to push every imaginable one of Hermione's buttons and then some she hadn't previously so much as contemplated. She isn't his girlfriend and never has been, or does he honestly think she'd let someone treat her as he's been in the context of a relationship? (The answer is he does, mostly because she absolutely would at this point in her life, but not so as she'd admit to it, thank you very much, and certainly not to the abusive plank asserting such things to begin with.) And to claim this thoroughly unsatisfactory situation as a relationship without the merest hint of any of the characteristics or benefits of one? He must have pickled his brain to a permanent state of dysfunction. (That lands. Enough so that he reduces his consumption from then on.) And does he really think he can tell her how to behave? (Hair crackled and rose there, practically forming a nimbus about her head. Frankly he probably hadn't thought that bit through.)
"And all because you're such a shite excuse for a human being, that you'd rather see innocent people in Azkaban than face the fact that their convictions aren't going to bring any of the fallen back. Not Molly's brothers, not Harry's parents, not Sirius, not Remus, not Tonks, not Colin, and certainly not Fred. Stop feeling so bleeding sorry for yourself and pull your head out of your arse before I plant it there for good." Sparks practically fly off her hair by the end.
Harry catches the last bit as he enters, and there's a brief flicker behind Hermione's eyes when she curses her timing and luck, but there's nothing to be done for it, and honestly she'd meant every word, even if it was a bit mean, which, fine, she'll feel guilty about later, but not now. Definitely not yet. Ron looks like she'd struck him physically, and Harry finds himself recalling the time she'd hauled off and belted Malfoy in third year. Yeah, Hermione doesn't need any more help than Ginny did defending herself, but having learnt a thing or two about himself over the past few weeks, he goes to stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder, as clearly at her side as if he'd drawn his wand.
She's equal parts relieved and grateful. It's bad enough that this might be costing her one friendship. She doesn't want to lose Harry over this rubbish, too.
Ron slinks wordlessly from the room, apparently Summons his things, and then just as wordlessly from the house. He goes to the Burrow to lick his wounds, as they learn a week later, in fact, when Molly invites them round to celebrate Harry's birthday. The occasion is all the more worthy of celebration as they receive word Snape, Professor Snape, has been declared 'exonerated', which of course bodes well for Malfoy. They expect to hear some good news on his case in the days to come.
They're fortunate in that they haven't any idea yet how the disciplinary hearings for the Slytherin students will go, or that they'll consume a good portion of the rest of the summer, but for now the mood is lighter than it's been in weeks, the party is deemed a success, and Ginny and Ron actually join them when they return to Grimmauld Place that evening, as four friends, if nothing more.
Gin spends a lot of her time... elsewhere, Harry imagines at the Burrow, or maybe with Luna, although he has no grounds whatsoever to feel so confident about those conclusions. He figures it'll be better for their friendship if he doesn't ask, and he's determined to do what he can to keep that as healthy as possible. Sometimes that means deliberately not talking about things. Hermione, this one he's dead sure about, divides her time between Hogwarts and the Slytherin students' disciplinary hearings. Apparently Professor McGonagall has made her some kind of envoy for the school. It suits her to a 't'. One of her jobs, as far as she's concerned, appears to be talking him and Ron into returning for an eighth year. (As it's Hermione, it should come as little surprise, least of all to Harry, that she's ultimately successful.) Harry's left to try to pull Ron out of his funk by himself. Things are both better and worse than they'd been at the beginning of the summer. For one thing the ginger seems less tightly wound with respect to Hermione. Harry checks at some point that Ron hasn't got the wrong end of the wand, but it's apparently fine. Hermione had been abundantly clear, there was no room left for doubt as to their relationship. Not that it should have changed anything - as she'd pointed out, whatever they had could hardly be confused with a romance to begin with - except change things it did. So much so that it's a massive relief when the first of September approaches, when Harry hopes he'll no longer be Ron's sole caretaker and source of diversion.
It's a relief, too, to find Malfoy and Snape, Professor Snape, at the school when they return. That hadn't been a given.
Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco are trying to put themselves back together again in the wake of the second wizarding war, some with greater success than others, but then it's always easier with help - if you'll accept it, that is.
Warning: some Ron bashing, but he's just not in a great place at the moment; TW genre typical violence, non-graphic description of a possible attempted SA.
Written with oodles of love for
lostangelsoul3. Happy Birthday, hun! 🎂🎁 🥳🎉 (Here, finally, the long promised Drarry. I don't even know if you're still reading the pairing (soz, probably should have asked), but I swore I'd finally clean up my clipboard, so here we are. Better late than never. Hope you have a lovely day either way, and many happy returns.)chapter 01 past is prologue
Characters: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Molly Weasley
Summer 1998. Harry, Hermione and Ron are struggling in the aftermath of the war. Not everyone is well equipped to come to terms with their situations.
Originally Published: 2023-05-29 on LJ / DW
Words: 3.1 k
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Characters: Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker), Hermione Granger (8G, Head Girl), Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Keeper), Ginny Weasley (7G, Chaser)
Background: Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker, prisoner of the DMLE), Severus Snape (Head of Slytherin and Deputy Headmaster, patient in St. Mungo's), Molly Weasley (ginger matriarch)
Summer 1998 - after the war
Grimmauld PlaceFor a little while in the immediate aftermath of the war, Harry reckons Gin had tried to carry on as if things were the same, both between them and in their lives as a whole. They weren't. They couldn't be. Hogwarts was practically a graveyard, the school itself was still half a pile of rubble, the people, the bastards who hadn't seen fit to actually fight in the war had now - belatedly - come crawling out of the woodwork, brimming with hindsight and all their far, far better ideas, and overeager, downright thirsting, to punish, as if doing so eradicated, absolved, their years of inaction, and Snape and Malfoy were about to be tried. Snape, poor sod, wasn't even conscious yet, and they were like to see him Kissed, Dementors just wafting at the ready like some foul odour.
After everything the man had done for them!
They couldn't leave it at that, obviously, but in very real ways it was as if the battle had never ended, Harry was still fighting, just a different enemy in a different war, and he was beyond knackered.
But even Gin's heart wasn't in it, Harry's sure. Their kisses, no matter how rich in affection, were nevertheless lacking in conviction. Timing can be everything, and they were practically right back where they'd been a year before, floundering, individually considering the merits to ending things prematurely because the situation as a whole was anything but conducive to happiness.
It was weird and sort of interesting contrasting it to Ron's and Hermione's deal, which of course was a great way not to think about what he himself was doing, or not doing, or seek any fault there. Harry gets that, at least in retrospect, he scoffs. But yeah, he's beginning to see some appeal in just getting lost in your thoughts. Those two had shared a kiss, that's all it was really, at some point during the battle, and he only knew that much with any degree of clarity because Hermione had sought his advice.
Shortly after aforementioned kiss, almost immediately as best Harry can tell, everything had gone to hell, Fred had died and so many more, and they hadn't shared another since.
It was a lot easier to work out where you stood in a relationship, he gathered, or what you wanted from it, when it could actually be recognised as one. What was a single kiss? He hadn't had an answer for her. He still doesn't. He may be missing that she wasn't so much seeking one as trying to make sure he understood what was going on, where she was coming from, and that she didn't risk losing his friendship when things with Ron inevitably collapsed, although he'd sensed she's less secure in their friendship than he is. He probably hasn't given her as much reason to trust his loyalty as she's provided him over the years. He'd made a mental note to do better.
Things with Gin, as far as that went, came to a head - and definitely became a lot clearer - when she'd tried to kiss him one evening in early June in the library at Grimmauld Place in Ron's presence. Hardly surprising - where else would he be? save the kitchen maybe - and it had been bound to happen at some point or another. Maybe living in each other's pockets like that hadn't helped, or the stressful preparations for the trials could have been to blame, or possibly - probably - it was mostly down to how Ron was handling his grief - poorly and with somewhat more Firewhisky and rather more regularity than was good - but his friend had blown up at her, a volatile, nearly violent explosion... And yet it was just words, wasn't it? The gist of which were basically How dare Ginny move on in the wake of Fred's death? Try to be happy? Not wallow in misery like a proper sibling should? Not that Ron said any of that in that way, but as Hermione points out, Harry's emotional range is both broader and deeper than a teaspoon, and he got the message. Gin did too, of course. She gave as good as she got, the tongue lashing Ron received was really more of flogging by the time she'd finished with him, finally storming from the room with a resounding slam of the door that seemed likely to shake it off its hinges. Harry had pitied his friend in the moment.
Shortly after, Ginny broke up with Harry. Officially, because that's a thing. One thing he'd noticed, and that he regrets, he'd returned her kiss - he agreed with her in principle, they shouldn't stop living or trying to be happy, even if it was sometimes difficult. If anything, it seemed like such an affront to all the people who wouldn't get to keep living their lives... He smiles a little when he realises he's hearing that in Hermione's voice, that's how often they've spoken about stuff like that over the past weeks. But yeah, Ron hadn't blamed him for the kiss, just Ginny. He's always been harder on the girls, holding them to a different... to a double standard. And of course Harry hadn't stood up for her. He hadn't wanted another fight with his friend, certainly not about that. They'd had plenty about testifying for the Slytherins, which was basically a moral imperative, and he'd considered himself lucky enough when Ron hadn't minded him dating his sister in the first place, so... And it wasn't that Ginny had needed his help either, but as was, it still wasn't right.
"We'll still be friends, yeah?" she assured him with a wistful smile and a reassuring squeeze of his hand. "It'll be better this way." He believed her on both counts. Gin was smart that way, more than any of the 'golden Trio', even if they were all older. Naturally she also let him know that she wasn't remotely cool with Ron trying to dictate how she lives, how she grieves, nor Harry's willingness, in turn, to tolerate it, which was another thing for him to mull over, cheers. She was good enough not to point out that he hadn't had her back. He appreciates that. He suspects she knows he'd realised he'd bollocksed that right up. He promises himself he'll be a better friend moving forward, wincing that he apparently still hadn't learnt that lesson. And being a good friend? It can't be just about Ron. Hermione's sweet enough to reassure him - repeatedly - that he's right on that count in the days that follow, after Ginny returns to the Burrow and Hermione just knows, even before he tells her, comforting him as they sit there surrounded by sheaves of papers preparing for the cross examinations, people's lives hanging in the balance. And that last certainly had a way of putting things in perspective for him. Ron has long since stopped joining them as they work, typically leaving whichever room rather demonstratively whenever Hermione unpacks her notes on the matter. Their testimony should be sufficient. He's not wrong. If it isn't, Ron certainly isn't going to change a single note on that score. That's not to disparage his friend. If the Chosen One's word isn't adequate? Then they aren't going to listen to Ron. And yet it somehow feels like the ginger is sulking.
Breaking up, if that's what you'd call it, proves a lot harder for Hermione and Ron. For one thing it's a lot more difficult to end something that hadn't even exactly started, especially when at least one party is being emotionally dishonest. And Ron resolutely blocks all attempts at conversation. He tends to do so in general of late, but any time he catches even a whiff of 'relationship talk', he's gone almost as quickly as if he'd Disapparated. They hover in an ambiguous and unsatisfying limbo much of the summer, Hermione disappearing off to the school more and more frequently - ostensibly to rebuild; Harry doesn't quite buy it - whenever her presence isn't required at the Wizengamot in fact. Harry remains behind, fruitlessly trying to cajole Ron back into some semblance of normality, not that the rarity of successes keeps him from trying, but the attempts become fewer with time.
The trials themselves, somewhat stupidly interleaved, are when that particular cauldron boils over. Hermione posited, and so she was probably right, that 'they' calculated that the recitation of the sum of the Death Eaters' crimes fresh in the minds of those doing the sentencing was likely to incline them to harsher punishments across the board. Similarly the mitigating circumstances for any one individual, when mentally applied to all, wouldn't be nearly enough to excuse a bloody thing. They were very likely right about that too.
About a fortnight before Harry's birthday, Stan Shunpike is sentenced to Azkaban, and Hermione is livid. Raging. He was Imperiused and hadn't a choice. It was - she's adamant - barely shy of rape, using him in that fashion against his will, for so long, too, and to punish him for it on top of that the ultimate in victimisation. She'll appeal it! Kingsley was aware - half of Britain was aware - of her intentions, and the process had been started, but where the authorities had quite evidently let too many off after the last war with such - often threadbare - excuses, nearly two decades on they were disinclined to repeat the mistake, electing instead to compound the error by sentencing the effectively innocent. When that innocence could be proven, no less! She has a point, naturally, she usually does. If only the use of Veritaserum in court were legal, or exculpatory that is. But she's a witch on a mission now, and she means to see such a travesty of justice doesn't repeat itself, and certainly not with those whose liberty matters to her more.
Harry knows there's no arguing with her, but then he tended to agree anyway. Ron, the only one amongst them to have grown up in the wizarding world, most likely better attuned to some of its vagaries and unquestionably to its lived history, is far less willing to forgive anyone who'd been involved with Voldemort in any fashion. They can all go to hell. If everyone had only been more vigilant, he practically invokes Moody, they'd have had fewer to fight as a whole. But he's clear: fewer would have died. They know perfectly well whom he means. It's hard to argue with the body count.
Snape's case was easier for obvious reasons. 'Double agent' can forgive a multitude of sins - it can always be argued, had he had a choice? - and Dumbledore himself had effectively forgiven Snape's original sin of starting on the wrong side of the war. Malfoy's situation was a great deal more complicated, and although the charges against him were far less severe - being accused of murdering Dumbledore had a way of eclipsing pretty much everything - the arguments in his favour were equally less pronounced, the facts more prone to interpretation. For Ron, watching his friends come home every evening and put their heads together to figure out how to get Death Eaters off the hook... It's finally too much. He's furious, no more likely to hold back than he had with his sister, and every bit as prone to unloading all of the blame on Hermione, giving Harry a pass in the process as usual. That only seems to increase the resentment Ron directs towards her, though, something Hermione doesn't fail to recognise and definitely doesn't appreciate.
Harry isn't there a week before his birthday when things kick off - even when furious and less than sober, Ron is too tactical by nature for a misstep like that - but Harry pieces enough of it together afterwards. There's snark, whinging, and griping. It advances to sniping and finally outright abuse. The key phrase, it seems, is something along the lines of it's unseemly for a girlfriend of his to be carrying on as she is ('unseemly' is Hermione's word in the later recounting and almost definitely not Ron's), which seems to push every imaginable one of Hermione's buttons and then some she hadn't previously so much as contemplated. She isn't his girlfriend and never has been, or does he honestly think she'd let someone treat her as he's been in the context of a relationship? (The answer is he does, mostly because she absolutely would at this point in her life, but not so as she'd admit to it, thank you very much, and certainly not to the abusive plank asserting such things to begin with.) And to claim this thoroughly unsatisfactory situation as a relationship without the merest hint of any of the characteristics or benefits of one? He must have pickled his brain to a permanent state of dysfunction. (That lands. Enough so that he reduces his consumption from then on.) And does he really think he can tell her how to behave? (Hair crackled and rose there, practically forming a nimbus about her head. Frankly he probably hadn't thought that bit through.)
"And all because you're such a shite excuse for a human being, that you'd rather see innocent people in Azkaban than face the fact that their convictions aren't going to bring any of the fallen back. Not Molly's brothers, not Harry's parents, not Sirius, not Remus, not Tonks, not Colin, and certainly not Fred. Stop feeling so bleeding sorry for yourself and pull your head out of your arse before I plant it there for good." Sparks practically fly off her hair by the end.
Harry catches the last bit as he enters, and there's a brief flicker behind Hermione's eyes when she curses her timing and luck, but there's nothing to be done for it, and honestly she'd meant every word, even if it was a bit mean, which, fine, she'll feel guilty about later, but not now. Definitely not yet. Ron looks like she'd struck him physically, and Harry finds himself recalling the time she'd hauled off and belted Malfoy in third year. Yeah, Hermione doesn't need any more help than Ginny did defending herself, but having learnt a thing or two about himself over the past few weeks, he goes to stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder, as clearly at her side as if he'd drawn his wand.
She's equal parts relieved and grateful. It's bad enough that this might be costing her one friendship. She doesn't want to lose Harry over this rubbish, too.
Ron slinks wordlessly from the room, apparently Summons his things, and then just as wordlessly from the house. He goes to the Burrow to lick his wounds, as they learn a week later, in fact, when Molly invites them round to celebrate Harry's birthday. The occasion is all the more worthy of celebration as they receive word Snape, Professor Snape, has been declared 'exonerated', which of course bodes well for Malfoy. They expect to hear some good news on his case in the days to come.
They're fortunate in that they haven't any idea yet how the disciplinary hearings for the Slytherin students will go, or that they'll consume a good portion of the rest of the summer, but for now the mood is lighter than it's been in weeks, the party is deemed a success, and Ginny and Ron actually join them when they return to Grimmauld Place that evening, as four friends, if nothing more.
Gin spends a lot of her time... elsewhere, Harry imagines at the Burrow, or maybe with Luna, although he has no grounds whatsoever to feel so confident about those conclusions. He figures it'll be better for their friendship if he doesn't ask, and he's determined to do what he can to keep that as healthy as possible. Sometimes that means deliberately not talking about things. Hermione, this one he's dead sure about, divides her time between Hogwarts and the Slytherin students' disciplinary hearings. Apparently Professor McGonagall has made her some kind of envoy for the school. It suits her to a 't'. One of her jobs, as far as she's concerned, appears to be talking him and Ron into returning for an eighth year. (As it's Hermione, it should come as little surprise, least of all to Harry, that she's ultimately successful.) Harry's left to try to pull Ron out of his funk by himself. Things are both better and worse than they'd been at the beginning of the summer. For one thing the ginger seems less tightly wound with respect to Hermione. Harry checks at some point that Ron hasn't got the wrong end of the wand, but it's apparently fine. Hermione had been abundantly clear, there was no room left for doubt as to their relationship. Not that it should have changed anything - as she'd pointed out, whatever they had could hardly be confused with a romance to begin with - except change things it did. So much so that it's a massive relief when the first of September approaches, when Harry hopes he'll no longer be Ron's sole caretaker and source of diversion.
It's a relief, too, to find Malfoy and Snape, Professor Snape, at the school when they return. That hadn't been a given.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-29 08:46 pm (UTC)Happy Birthday to
(no subject)
Date: 2023-06-03 11:18 pm (UTC)Thanks, E. ❤️😘
(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-31 07:43 am (UTC)Thank you so much ☺️
(Yes I still love Drarry 😂 Life just gets in the way so I’m soooo behind on Beyond Wandpoint and haven’t been active in a while. Your gift is the catalyst to catch up with it all 💙)
L x
(no subject)
Date: 2023-06-03 11:17 pm (UTC)These stories are independent of wandpoint, so at least there's no need to catch up. In fact with the previouslies, there's no need to read any of the others in the AU either. (Snape and Lavender survived. Most return for an 8th year, which goes about as well as one might expect.) I think the only two stories that might feel like they "need" to be read to accompany this, if that, are the first one "christmas spirit" and "his (eighth) first day of school", both one shots. They aren't meant to be chronological either. That's me, experimenting with angst reduction. lol
(no subject)
Date: 2023-07-25 11:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-08-08 02:24 pm (UTC)Thanks, that's so sweet. 🥰