Answers

Author's Note: Originally published on September 19, 2016

Hermione tiptoed out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind her. She could hear the familiar sounds of someone preparing tea; the soft clank of ceramic as it was slowly stirred was soothing, and signalled safety. It was something she was desperate for, after what had happened a few days ago.

She yawned quietly and tried to stretch, but her body cried out in protest. The soreness from the torture she endured was persistent, though it had reduced greatly due to Fleur's care, and of course, Ron.

She felt herself blushing as she thought about how wonderful he'd been. Following their ordeal at Malfoy Manor, she experienced such gentleness and sweetness from him. He'd been a constant presence; waiting on her, checking on her, and most importantly, providing the kind of comfort—the closeness—she'd craved from him for years.

Hermione had meant to scold him for not getting enough sleep while they had the chance, but she didn't have the heart. He only had good intentions, waking up a few times every night to look in on her. She'd even caught him a couple of times, dozing in the hallway outside the bedroom she was sharing with Luna, and had been forced to nudge him awake and send him back downstairs—after a quick hug in the dark corridor.

She also knew Ron was trying hard to make up for leaving her and Harry. He'd readily admitted his guilt several times when she was giving him the cold shoulder upon his return, but she didn't want to hear it at the time. Now she could see it with every action towards the both of them. Remembering his screams, she was hopeful it wasn't just guilt that was driving him to care for her in a way he'd rarely done in the past.

She frowned, thinking about something that was bothering her about Ron. He'd clearly been shaken by what had happened, but he'd been putting on a brave face. For her. The thought caused a rush of affection at his efforts, even as the question in her mind still lingered.

Perhaps the source of her concern was that she still didn't know the full story of what happened when they were separated at Malfoy Manor. She needed answers. She couldn't help it—seeking knowledge and having all of the information was ingrained in her.

She gingerly made her way down the stairs, her eyes adjusting to the early morning pink and orange hues, diffused by the curtains covering the windows. She was hoping to corner Ron before the other boys woke up.

"Oh, uh, morning, Hermione."

"Hello."

Hermione was surprised to be greeted by Dean Thomas, who busied himself by pouring a second cup of tea. She immediately glanced towards the messy, unmade beds in the living room; Ron and Harry were conspicuously absent.

"They're taking a walk. Harry had a nightmare, so Ron took him out to the water." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before continuing. "Since we were all up, Ron asked me to make some tea, so that it would be ready, in case you woke up."

"Uh, thank you Dean. That was lovely of you."

Hermione pushed aside the curtains and peeked out the window. She could see two silhouettes sitting in the sand, their backs to the cottage. Ron's taller frame was obvious, and it looked like he had his arm around Harry's shoulder, as they watched the rising of the sun.

She stepped away, not wanting to intrude on their privacy, and sat down at the small dining table situated in the clean and quaint kitchen.

Dean sat down opposite her and pushed the cup towards her, before adding some sugar in his own. He seemed to be having a difficult time looking her in the eyes.

Though they'd never been particularly close, they'd always had a cordial relationship as housemates. As Hermione wrapped her hands around the warm teacup and breathed in the floral scent, she couldn't help but notice his odd behaviour, but she didn't feel like she could ask him about it.

After a moment of silence, Dean spoke up, his voice tinged with hesitation.

"So... how are you feeling, Hermione?"

"Certainly better than I was a couple of days ago. Still quite sore, though."

He finally faced her, and visibly gulped, his eyes quickly flitting between his cup and her face. "I... um... I'm really sorry, you know, about what happened to you."

She nodded, and took a sip of the tea. "It's alright—I'm alright."

He let out a breath, and his shoulders relaxed. He flashed her a grim smile. "I'm really glad. It was pretty awful, being in that cellar and hearing your... you."

The corners of her mouth turned down, but a sudden thought struck her. Perhaps Dean could provide the answers she was seeking.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to bring it up."

She waved a hand at him. "Don't worry, it's fine. Actually... I was hoping you could help me with something."

"Of course."

"Well, I want to know what happened down in that cellar. It really affected Ron, even if he won't admit it, and I certainly can't ask Harry with the state he's in."

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Dean warned.

"Please, Dean? I've asked Luna, but she keeps saying things like 'fear of loss is the truest test of love'. I really just want to know what was going on."

He thought about it for a moment, but capitulated to her request.

"I can only tell you what I know; the rest of us left before Harry and Ron. There are a few things I don't understand about what happened down there, but I'll do my best."

She nodded eagerly and gripped the ceramic tighter.

He took a deep breath and launched into the tale.

"When we were separated from you, we were marched down towards the cellar. Greyback was taunting Ron about what he was going to do to you. As soon as he locked the cellar door, we... we heard—"

"Me," Hermione finished.

Dean nodded solemnly. "Ron started shouting for you. He went completely mental when we heard you."

"I could hear him, muffled through the floor." She stared down at the slow swirl of the warm liquid, recalling the desperation in his voice. "It helped me keep fighting."

Dean gave her a knowing look, and continued on. "Ron was struggling and shifting against the cords, but despite that, Luna was trying to cut us loose with an old nail that she and Mr. Ollivander had found in the cellar. They must have been down there for some time. "

"Luna said it was hard to tell how long they'd been down there, since there was no light."

Dean snapped his fingers and sat up straighter. "Ron had some device with him that lit up the cellar with these weird floating orbs. Don't know what it was exactly. You were still..." He stopped and stared past her.

"It's alright, Dean. You can say it."

"You... you were still screaming upstairs, and Ron was crying your name, over and over. As soon as Luna cut the ropes, he frantically tried to get to you, even though Luna said there was no way to escape. He never stopped trying to do something to save you."

Hermione could feel tears threatening to fall, so she quickly dried her eyes with the sleeve of the borrowed robe. She nodded at Dean to continue.

"As your screams got worse, Harry started pulling some objects out of a bag, trying to find something that could help. Ron, he was practically sobbing. Harry dropped some piece of glass and started yelling at it, pleading for help."

"The mirror," she whispered under her breath.

Dean looked at her questioningly.

"Er, nothing. Then what happened?"

"We could hear you saying the sword was a fake. That's when Malfoy was sent down to retrieve Griphook. Ron turned out the lights just before the ferret opened the door. As soon as he left, Dobby appeared and Ron lit up the room again."

Hermione nodded, fully enraptured in what was happening while she was upstairs.

Dean frowned. "They started...torturing you again, and your cries pushed Harry to act. He asked Dobby if he could take us, and Ron said to bring us here, to Shell Cottage. Luna and I, well, we begged Harry to stay and help, but he wouldn't have it. That's when we escaped."

Dean stopped to take a sip of his tea.

"When we got here, Bill recognized Luna, so they let us in immediately. As they tended to Mr. Ollivander, we quickly filled them in on what had happened. We all hoped that you would get out safely. That's when we heard Ron shouting from outside."

Hermione felt the tears coming again. Even though she'd been unconscious, she imagined how frightened Ron must have been.

"He ran in, carrying your limp body. You were all cut up and pale. He was so distraught and tears were running down his face. I've never seen him like that. He must have feared," Dean took a deep, shaky breath, "that you were dead."

The tears finally fell, streaking down her cheeks. She had no idea what Ron had gone through, for her.

Dean stood up and awkwardly handed her a tissue.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

He paused for a moment while she regained her composure.

"Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes, please."

"Ron laid you down on the settee, so that Bill and Fleur could check you. After a minute of spellwork, they said that you'd be okay. That's when we heard Harry screaming for help outside. We rushed out to him, but Ron stayed in here, with you. He refused to leave you."

"I woke up and he was next to me, holding my hand. He was so relieved."

They sat for a moment, remembering the events of that horrible night.

Dean piped up again. "When we were going to help Harry bury Dobby, I asked Ron how you were. He was really broken up. All he said was 'it should have been me, mate.'"

"No," she cried. "I'd never have wanted that, even when he tried to take my place, I wouldn't have been able to stand it if he was the one who was... tortured."

"Look, I know it's not my business, but you two really care for each other, don't you? Seamus and I always wondered why you weren't together."

Hermione pushed her teacup to the side and dropped her head into her hands. She couldn't believe how obvious they'd been. And she couldn't believe she was talking about this to Dean Thomas of all people. She was tired of denying her feelings, after everything they'd been through.

"It... it just never seemed to work out. Even last year, we were getting so close to something... and then he was with Lavender."

"Well, I wasn't surprised, after that big fight with Ginny and all. I think that really—"

"Wait, wait, wait. What fight? What are you talking about?"

Dean's jaw dropped. "You don't know about the fight they had? Surely Harry told you?"

"No, he didn't mention anything like that, but Harry had enough going on. What happened, exactly?"

"Ron and Harry caught Ginny and I, well, snogging, and they got into a terrific row. Ginny told me to leave before it started, but I could hear them screaming at each other, and she filled me in afterwards."

"When was this?" Hermione interrupted.

"Right before the Quidditch match, when Ron and Lavender got together."

The gears in her head were turning, matching up the time to his sudden change in behaviour towards her, and everyone else, really.

"Anyway, Ginny said he was being a prat, and she really went after him, making fun of the fact that he'd never kissed anyone and that herself, Harry, and you had all kissed people before. They even tried cursing each other. She said Harry had to hold Ron back, though she did feel bad about it afterwards. She knew they'd both crossed the line."

"Oh no, did Ginny say I snogged Viktor Krum?"

She was so disappointed in Ginny for revealing that secret, when she'd specifically asked her not to. The kiss had been rather chaste and passionless, though knowing Ron, he probably assumed they'd snogged intensely several times.

Dean nodded. "You know, I thought at the time that he was embarrassed about not having kissed anyone, especially since Harry and I were now aware of that fact. But, after seeing him the other night, and how badly he wanted to save you, I think maybe the thing that hurt him most was finding out that you'd kissed Krum."

She groaned. "That's why he took up with Lavender right after that. I don't know if he was just trying to prove a point to Ginny or me, but it worked. I was... miserable."

"It was probably both," Dean added sympathetically. "It wasn't a great year for romance."

"Oh, Dean, I'm so sorry. I know you and Ginny breaking up wasn't pleasant."

Dean shrugged. "Honestly, we had fun for a while, but things started to break down long before we split up. Sure, I was upset when Harry and Ginny got together so soon after, but they seem like a better match than Ginny and I ever were."

"It all seems so childish, compared to our lives now."

They sat quietly, listening to the waves crash against the shore while drinking their tea. Hermione was contrasting their lives a year ago to the struggle they were now facing.

How quickly things changed.

She was lucky to be alive, and even luckier that Ron was there, taking care of her, despite all of the issues that had come between them.

The silence was broken as the door swung open. Harry walked in, staring down with a glum look on his face. Ron was following close behind, a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder. Harry looked up and nodded at Hermione, before sitting down heavily next to Dean.

Hermione's chair scraped against the floor as she stood up and purposefully strode towards Ron.

"Hermione?"

She practically leapt forward and wrapped her arms around Ron's waist in a tight hug.

"Oof!" Ron exclaimed, completely surprised by her sudden movement as she barrelled into him. His long arms engulfed her and he looked down in confusion for a few seconds, before shrugging his shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of her head, cushioned by her bushy hair. They fit together perfectly.

They stood there for a moment, revelling in the embrace and not caring that they had an audience for such an open display of affection.

Ron's cheeks were a deep pink as Hermione pulled away. His large hand caught her smaller one, clearly not wanting to separate.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you, Ron."

"For what, exactly?"

"For being you."

"Can't really be anyone else, can I?" he joked.

They stood awkwardly, their fingers entwined, in front of their two friends.

"Do you think we can go for a walk, Ron?"

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Yes, there are a... few things I really need to talk to you about, if that's alright."

"Yeah, let's go."

As Ron held the door for her, she turned back to the boys, her face rose-tinged.

"Thank you, Dean."

He raised his teacup and silently saluted her.

As the two stepped out, hand-in-hand, Ron's voice rang out, his words a higher pitch than normal.

"So, uh, what did Dean help you with?"

If they'd turned around, they would have seen Dean and Harry sharing an eye roll.

Harry cracked his first smile in ages.