Revelations
Title: Revelations
Rating: PG-13
Category: Sixth Year AU (Pre-Christmas)
Summary: After the Quidditch match, Harry realizes that he must do something to help his two best friends. Or, what might have happened if Harry was more emotionally mature.
He shook his head ruefully, running a hand through his mop of damp, black hair. He was disappointed—not with the victory, but with his closest friends. Had he further damaged their already tenuous relationship with his Felix Felicis stunt?
Harry was deep in thought as he exited the Quidditch locker room, making his way to the castle with the last few post-match stragglers. A sinking feeling was bothering him, but he couldn’t quite get a grasp on it as he kept walking. He came to a halt as it hit him, the pieces falling into place.
If his friends continued along this path, he could only see misery. One of them would take it too far and they’d have a big blow up, followed by weeks or months of arguments. He’d get stuck in-between, and it was the last thing he needed with everything else going on. It was selfish of him, but their support was one of the few things he could count on.
He was aware of why each of them was upset, even if they didn’t, and that key information is what made him so uncomfortable. It was like third-year all over again, but the stakes were higher this time considering what was happening outside of the school. Even he had guessed the feelings they harboured for one another and was almost certain that their current fight would end in heartbreak.
He certainly didn’t want to get involved, but he could do something to prevent things from getting worse.
Despite his apprehension, a sense of urgency seized him, as though every minute, every second could make a difference in salvaging whatever disaster his friends were clearly heading towards. He set off at a run, pushing past a couple of first-years, and reached the large interior entryway of Hogwarts, just in time to catch a familiar head of bushy brunette hair stomping up the stairs.
Frantically, he was forced to shout. “Hermione, wait!”
She stopped and turned, giving him a surprised look as he took the stairs two-at-a-time, cutting around some of his fellow students.
“Harry, whatever is the matter?”
He panted and slowed down for a moment, his legs jelly from the effort after already having played an important match.
“I know why Ron’s so upset,” Harry gasped. “Promise me you’ll just stay here for a few minutes while I go talk to him. Then I’ll tell you everything.”
She frowned. “Humph, I don’t even want to think about Ron right now. He’s been acting like such a… Like such a prat!”
Harry shook his head, something spurring him to hurry up as he pleaded with her. “Please, just hear me out.”
She crossed her arms and leaned against the stone rail on the second-floor landing. “Fine.”
Harry didn’t even acknowledge this as he tore up the staircase toward the Gryffindor Common Room. The low rumble of the victory celebration indicated he was close. He turned the corner just as the sound reached a crescendo.
Chants of “Weasley! Weasley!” greeted his ears as he spotted his best friend, who was just about to step through the portrait hole to meet his adoring fans. His cheeks were flushed with pride, his eyes glassy, but Harry had a weird feeling that if Ron entered that party, somehow, things would get even worse between him and Hermione.
“Ron!”
Harry raced to his tall, redheaded friend and grabbed his arm, hauling him away from the doorway. He ignored the chorus of boos and protests before slamming the portrait shut, much to the consternation of The Fat Lady.
Ignoring her loud complaints, Ron rounded on Harry. “What the hell, mate?”
Harry hunched over, placing his hands on his thighs as he desperately tried to slow his breathing.
Ron stared at him, his anger abating as his face turned inquisitive. “Did you run all the way here from the locker room? Did something happen? Is Hermione alright?”
Harry nodded and held up a finger, hoping his friend would give him a minute to recover. He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Ron’s concern immediately went to Hermione. How had he never noticed it before? Ron had defended Hermione countless times as well. The puzzle pieces seemed to be falling into place.
Before he could process his own lack of observance, he could sense Ron’s impatience, so he straightened up.
“Everyone is fine… Well, mostly. Hermione’s really hacked off at you.”
Ron immediately tensed up and began pacing in the empty corridor. “Yeah, well, I’m hacked off at her! She’s the one that didn’t believe I could make those saves myself during the match… She’s the one that lied about snogging—”
He looked away as his mouth clamped shut, clearly self-conscious at mentioning what was really bothering him.
Harry thought Ron had a point and felt sympathy for his friend. Hermione really hadn’t reacted well to his bit of trickery with the luck potion. It even reminded him of Hermione’s reaction to Ron getting his prefect badge in fifth-year.
What really struck him, perhaps for the first time much to his own shame, was how much his two friends’ actions seemed to impact each other. Ron seemed far more hurt by Hermione’s reaction than he was of Harry’s attempted deception.
“I get it, Ron. I don’t think either of us was fair to do that to you.” He purposely avoided mentioning anything related to the snogging.
Ron nodded, but his shoulders drooped in defeat. The muffled cries of “Weasley! Weasley!” could again be heard through the entrance. Ron looked up, worrying his lip in indecision as his long legs kept him roving back and forth.
“The party will go on for a while,” Harry began cautiously. “It might be worth a few minutes for the two of you to try and patch things up. She’s waiting for me downstairs. Come with me and talk to her.”
Ron’s neck twisted violently back towards Harry and he crossed his arms. “Why is she waiting for you?”
Harry didn’t care for the accusatory tone in Ron’s voice, but didn’t think it was the best time to mention it. “I promised to tell her why you’ve been so mental lately.”
Ron continued glaring, his hands balled into fists as his whole body stiffened. “And what exactly were you going to say?”
Harry coughed into his hand, not wanting to answer. “I was going to tell her about the fight with Ginny, you know, some of the things that were said.” As soon as he said it out loud, he cringed, realizing how much of a betrayal that would be to Ron.
“You’re going to do what?! Not cool, mate. If I found out who you fancied, I wouldn’t go off and tell them.”
The monster in Harry’s chest roared to life and he shook it off, ignoring the distraction. If Ron knew who he fancied… He couldn’t think about the implications at that moment. Instead, he threw his hands in the air. “You’re both ridiculous. You just admitted you fancy Hermione. Just tell her why you’ve shut her out this past week, and maybe… er… things will change between you two.”
Ron’s posture worsened as folded further into himself, his voice resigned in defeat.
“I doubt she even wants to hear it. Not when she’s got a world-famous star interested in her.”
“C'mon, Ron. She hasn’t seen Krum in years. Don’t forget, you’re the one she invited to the Slug Club party.” Harry grimaced as he remembered their awkward conversation in class.
Ron shrugged, his eyes glued to the portrait hole. “She didn’t, not really. She just said she was planning on asking me. Probably out of pity since I’m not good enough to be in the stupid Slug Club. Can’t even remember my bloody name.”
“I don’t think it was out of pity. Besides, you acted like a jealous git! Do you honestly think she’d do anything with that sod McLaggen?”
“Course not, she’s far too good for the likes of him.”
The persistent noise of their fellow Gryffindors continued in the background as indecision seemed to freeze Ron in his place.
Harry’s frustration was mounting as he rubbed his temples. He had never noticed how difficult it was dealing with the two of them. “I’m going to go speak to Hermione; you can come if you want.”
He stalked down the stairs in a huff, his earlier disappointment returning. He racked his brains, trying to think of how to tell Hermione what he’d promised, without embarrassing Ron or revealing too much. Would it simply be enough to reveal that Ron knew about her kiss with Krum in fourth-year, and hope they’d resolve things?
As he spotted the second-floor landing, he could see Hermione impatiently tapping her foot, her wand directing a small flock of yellow birds to fly in an intricate pattern above her. She looked up and caught his eye, the birds disappearing before he got a chance to admire her spellwork.
“Harry, where have you been, I was just about to—”
Thundering footsteps echoed behind him as Harry turned, only to be met by Ron, red-faced and gasping for air. The tension was palpable as he stood in the middle of the stairs, a buffer between his two friends.
“What’s he doing here?”
Ron’s cheeks reddened further as he steadied himself against the stone pillar at the top of the stone staircase railing. “Fine, if you don’t want to talk, I’m leaving. Maybe I can find someone who actually cares about what I have to say.”
Harry could see the wounded look on Ron’s face, so he shot Hermione a warning glance. “Ron, wait.”
The tall redhead huffed in annoyance but remained in place. Harry slowly ascended and clapped Ron on the shoulder. “Just talk to her, alright?”
Ron gave a stiff nod. Harry made his way up, disappearing from their view. He slipped behind a statue on the next landing, overlooking the area where he’d left them. If they couldn’t get their shite together themselves, he would have to do it for them. He peered over and could see them, the length of the stairs separating them.
The silence seemed to stretch for long seconds until Hermione cleared her throat, addressing Ron, who was still frozen at the top of the stairs, purposely not facing her. She was wringing her hands, the anxiety obvious.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione began, her voice unnaturally high. “For doubting your keeping skills. I know how important Quidditch is to you. Maybe I’ve never told you before, but I’m proud that you’re our keeper.”
“Thank you,” Ron answered quietly, still staring out into space. “That means a lot.”
The oppressive tension hung heavy in the air, until once again broken by Hermione’s voice.
“Harry promised he’d tell me why you’ve been so upset.” She paused, as if picking her words carefully. “I just don’t know what happened. I thought everything was going so well since I asked you to Professor Slughorn’s party.”
Ron continued looking away, so she went on.
“Is that what this is about?” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “Do you not want to go with me?”
It was a night of revelations for Harry as he studied them. Had it been their own lack of confidence, fear of messing up their friendship, or their worry of being vulnerable in front of the other that had been holding them back? Had it simply been himself getting in the way? Hermione was normally so sure of herself—he was shocked to see her so shaken, because of Ron.
Ron turned his head slowly towards Hermione, but stared down at his shoes, before taking a step down. “You didn’t actually ask me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you were planning to ask me. You never actually did.”
“I’m certain I did.”
“We rowed about McLaggen,” he spat out. “Then we never discussed it.”
“Is that why you’ve been upset?” She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. Harry could see her summoning her courage. “Ron, would you like to go to the party with me?”
Harry couldn’t help but stifle a gasp and hid behind the statue again. He missed his friends glancing up at his perch.
“That’s not what this is about—I would’ve gone anyway. I was actually looking forward to going with you and spending time with you. Just the two of us.”
Hermione climbed a few steps up. “I was, too. If that’s not it, then why? I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t happy with Ginny, or even Harry for that matter.”
Ron made eye contact with Hermione for the first time, his blank face betraying the hurt in his trembling voice. “It’s just not nice to find out you’ve been lied to for two years. Especially when it’s coming from people you thought cared about you.”
Hermione was taken aback, clearly not at all what she’d been expecting. Harry couldn’t help but think she had no idea how much her actions, not to mention Ginny’s and even his own, had affected Ron. They took Ron for granted, and that pained him.
“What… what?” She stuttered, trying to hide the surprise on her face. “What are you even talking about?”
Harry felt ill, his stomach churning with distress. He knew what was coming. Things were going to get worse before they got better.
“Let me paint you a bleeding picture then, as my loving sister did a week ago. You and Vicky, snogging all over the castle in fourth-year. So much for being just friends.”
Hermione was even more confused. “Ginny told you Viktor and I kissed?”
“Yes, she did. Harry and I caught her and Dean groping each other behind a tapestry last week, and we got into a big row. She couldn’t wait to throw it in my face! All those times you told me he was just your pen pal—”
Hermione was visibly angry as she stomped her foot on the stone step. “She had no right to tell you that.”
Harry could see Ron’s shoulders slump once again, his voice tight. “You’re not denying it then? Ginny was telling me the truth?”
“It wasn’t like that! We weren’t ‘snogging all over the castle’ as you put it. He kissed me, once, and I wasn’t really interested… He was nice, and he appreciated me.”
“Then why lie about it? Did you three have a good laugh at my expense? Ha ha, stupid Ron, he has no idea what’s really going on. Always behind. Always last at everything.”
“Don’t say that about yourself! Besides, we haven’t talked about it in years, because I explicitly asked them to never mention it to you! I was just afraid of how you’d react, and I was clearly right to do so.”
He scoffed and pointed a shaky finger at her. “You don’t get to do that. We’re supposed to be friends. You’re supposed to trust me! Even if I absolutely hate the fact that you fancy him, I still deserve the truth.”
Hermione took another step up.
“I don’t fancy him! Just admit you were jealous!”
“Fine!” he roared, also stepping down, narrowing the distance between them. “I was jealous! That was my mistake, not asking you to the ball, and you know what? I still regret how I acted back then. The lie though? That’s far, far worse.”
“How is that worse?” She screamed in retaliation, marching up. “Look at how you’ve been treating me since you found out!”
“I had to find it out from my little sister, of all people! You confided in her! Do you have any idea what that felt like, to have your face rubbed in it, two years later? If things were reversed, how would you have reacted? What if I’d kept something like that from you?”
“Well… I… I certainly would’ve acted better than you did! It was two years ago, and I thought we were moving forward. Why does it even matter now?”
“It does matter!” He jabbed a finger into his own chest. “Maybe if you’d told me the truth… I wouldn’t’ve held this stupid hope that our first kisses would be with each other! That maybe you might even fancy me one day. Seems bloody unlikely now. Fuck!”
Ron turned away in frustration and embarrassment, not really caring if anyone heard him. The confession hung in the air as he leaned over the railing. This was all news to Harry, who was certain his friend was contemplating pitching himself over into the black void below. He could hear some of the paintings whispering in the background, but he paid them little heed. Harry was sure they’d witnessed countless fights between teenagers during the school’s long history.
The blood drained from Hermione’s face, the full, painful effect of her secret revealed. Harry could see the tears forming in her eyes, likely from the grief she’d caused. Ron usually wasn’t this open about his emotions, so it was obvious that their friend had been holding in quite a bit during the past two years.
She made her way up, to the stair just below Ron, now in the middle of the staircase next to the railing. She gently laid her hand on the small of Ron’s back, imploring him to talk to her.
“I didn’t know how strongly you felt. I hoped you were jealous, but I didn’t think you would be so hurt. I’m so sorry.” She reached to wipe her own tears, but Ron suddenly turned and got there first, his thumb brushing away the liquid, causing them both to gasp at the touch.
“I’m sorry, too. I just never felt like… like I could ever measure up. You just seemed to always doubt me when it came to, well, everything.”
“I’ve been horrible. I’ve never had the courage to truly express how amazing you are. I was afraid you’d be able to tell how I felt about you. You’re so important to me, and I didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t feel the same way.”
Ron looked apprehensive. “So you settled for a world-famous superstar?”
“The kiss with Viktor meant nothing. I was flattered that someone noticed me, and I was curious about what it would feel like to experience that.”
“I’m curious, too. Would you rather I… I don’t know… Go up there and snog…” His hands made undefinable gestures in the air, trying to find a name. “Lavender Brown or someone?”
“No,” she replied firmly. “I’d rather you snogged me.”
Ron’s lean frame towered over Hermione, even more so than usual due to the stairs, their bodies nearly touching.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to.” Hermione looked up, her expression soft in a way Harry had never seen before as she gave Ron a shy smile. “I really want you to.”
Harry was holding his breath, watching with rapt attention. Was this the moment?
“There’s no going back.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Me, neither.”
In a flash, Ron’s hands cradled Hermione’s face and he bent over, their lips meeting chastely at first. She gripped him tightly and they deepened their kiss, their eyes closing as they lost themselves in a moment they’d both been clearly hoping for.
Harry never thought he’d bear witness to their first kiss, so he looked away. He couldn’t deny how odd it was to see them snogging. It was even odder, he realized, that he somehow knew that one day they would share a first kiss, like it was inevitable.
Harry looked back as they broke apart, their chests both rising and falling rapidly. Ron suddenly stooped down and lifted Hermione up, her happy giggles bouncing off the castle walls as he turned and placed her on the stair above him, reducing their height difference. His hands were still at her sides, and she rested her arms across his shoulders, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.
“What does this mean?”
“It means, Hermione, that I fancy you, and you fancy me.”
“Good, I’m glad we’ve sorted that out then.”
Ron smiled brightly, before taking her hands in his and holding them to his chest. Harry didn’t know his mate had it in him to be so romantic. Must have picked up a tip or two from his brothers over the years.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
Hermione smiled widely, her eyes again tearing up. She nodded vigorously. “Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”
“Hmm… Let me think.”
She freed herself and smacked his arm, as he enveloped her in a hug. She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, as if a great weight had been lifted. They stood in the embrace for a moment, enjoying the luxury of finally being able to be completely open with one another.
Harry felt rather uncomfortable, seeing them so playful. Now that his job was done, he felt like he was intruding on such an intimate moment between them. He hid back behind the statue and waited for them to join the party, so that he could follow. A few minutes later, he heard their footfalls and whispers on the steps.
As the new couple passed by the landing where Harry was hidden, they paused. What the hell were they waiting for?
“Harry,” Ron started.
“We know you’re there,” Hermione finished.
Harry stood up sheepishly, scratching the back of head. “Oh, I was just tying my shoelace. Didn’t want to trip on one of these stairs.”
Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione scoffed. There was an uncomfortable pause, all three a bit pink in the face, until Ron reached out and clapped his friend on the shoulder.
“We just wanted to say thanks for, you know, helping us get things sorted.”
“Oh, no problem. I’m glad you’ve made up.” Hermione grasped Harry’s arm. “This isn’t going to change anything, Harry. We’re still going to be there for you, through thick or thin. We’re still your best friends.”
Harry nodded, his heart full of love for them. “Just less screaming at each other and more…” he cringed.
They both blushed again, and Harry could see their hands squeezing tightly in support of one another, making him feel a strange longing for a similar connection.
Ron must have picked up on it and tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry, mate. I’m sure some girl will see past the specky git side of you.” He laughed, missing the wide-eyed look shared between Harry and Hermione.
“Yeah, thanks, Ron. I’ll just see the two of you up there?” He hastily beat a retreat and practically ran up the stairs, giving his friends the opportunity to revel in their new relationship.
As he reached the Common Room, the party seemed to be in full swing. Though the Fat Lady was still miffed at him from earlier, she allowed him to enter to a roar of cheers, which stopped rather abruptly.
“Oi, it’s only Potter,” Seamus bellowed. “Where’s Ron?”
“He’s on his way; save your applause.”
Harry enjoyed being out of the limelight for once, so he slid over to the far wall, just in time for the crowd to restart their din.
A few minutes later, the portrait hole opened again, and his two best friends strode in, the blushes on their cheeks and messed hair indicating what they’d been up to after he left them. The roar from the Gryffindors was deafening as the man-of-the-hour entered, finally joining the raucous gathering. Red and gold confetti exploded in the air, covering the gathered crowd.
A loud whistle silenced everyone, and Seamus’s voice rang out once again. “Ron! Are you holding Granger’s hand?”
All eyes focused on their joined hands, the room silent aside from the fluttering of stray paper floating through the air. In a rush of bravado, Hermione reached up and pulled Ron into a kiss, causing the rest of the house to cheer even louder than before, their refrain now switching to “Weasley! Granger! Weasley! Granger!”.
Harry laughed as they were mobbed with congratulations and pats on the back. He heard more than one person exclaim “finally” or “about time”, so it wasn’t just him who had noticed how they felt about each out. He surveyed the room, noting that Cormac seemed to have his usual sour look of arrogant disdain at the whole scene, while Lavender seemed rather put out. He started to wonder why, but all thoughts faded as he saw a different redhead approach.
“Is this your doing?” Ginny asked.
“I may have had a hand in it. They just needed a nudge.”
“Well, I’m glad. They’ve been tiptoeing around each other for years—it’s annoying. I wasn’t happy about what I said to Ron before, even if he deserved it, the git. I certainly didn’t mean to mess things up for Hermione.”
“Don’t be so hard on him, I think he’s going to be much more… Open-minded from now on.”
“I hope so. Are you alright with everything, Harry?”
He couldn’t help but feel his cheeks warm from the concerned look on Ginny’s face. “It’s better than them fighting all the time. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them so happy.”
Ginny squeezed his arm. “You’re a good friend. Well, I’d better go find Dean and then tease my brother and his girlfriend.” She gave him a cheeky grin and left in a flash of red hair.
Harry looked up at his best friends, seeing the joy on their faces as Ron slung his long arm around Hermione’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. She looked up at him proudly and smiled.
He hoped, one day, he’d get that same opportunity with the girl who had just retreated. In the meantime, he was thrilled for his friends and the connection they shared.
