FIC: The Darkest Recesses of the Heart | Chapter 20 | Harry/Ron | R |
Title: The Darkest Recesses of the Heart
Chapter Twenty: A New Betrayal
Story Summary: Harry disappears suddenly. Ron finds him hiding out in a small American town with a new set of friends and a new life and no memory of his old one.
Chapter Summary: Ron feels the loss of Harry as they both try to get their lives back on track.
Pairing: Harry/Ron, mention of other pairings (Percy/Penelope, Ginny/Oliver, Harry/OMC)
Rating: Varies by chapter (highest NC17) – this chapter Hard R.
Word count: 4,000+
Warnings: mention of character death.
Beta: thrihyrne
A/N: So sorry for the delay. I assure you that the next and last chapter will be up before DH is released!



A New Betrayal


Darkness had become a comfort to Ron like one of his old t-shirts or the blanket from his room at the Burrow that he liked to curl up under when he was feeling ill.

At night in his room, Ron felt at peace, finally absent from having to watch Harry sulking around the house. Here, alone, he let his mind immerse in the memories of Harry and him and he even allowed himself to delve into fantasies that would bring Harry into his bedroom and back into his arms. It was so much easier than during the day when he had to spend every waking moment hiding his feelings and bolting from the room whenever Harry looked particularly broody and it hurt too much not to reach out and console him with physical affection.

When it was over and he stilled the hand on his cock and lay there panting, his come drying sticky on his stomach, he felt empty and lonely again. After cleaning himself up, he pulled the faded orange bedspread up to his neck and turned on his side, falling into a broken sleep.

In the morning, during that brief span of semi-awareness between being asleep and awake, he felt an arm around him, holding him tight, and for a single glorious second he experienced feeling loved again. Until he heard Harry or Hermione moving about the house and the phantom body lying next to him vanished, leaving a longing need in the centre of his chest that made it hard for him to breathe the rest of the day.

~ ~ ~

Ron walked out of Flourish & Blotts, shifting Hermione's Christmas gift under his arm. He'd been shopping at Diagon Alley buying Christmas gifts since after lunch until the sun had set, and the fairy lights shone on the random puddles of rain along the cobbled street. The weather matched his dreadful mood. He had decided to finish his Christmas shopping before going back to the Aurors in two days. He'd hoped that it would take his mind off Harry, but walking along the decorated shops only reminded him of New Hope. His bitter mood and depression weighed down on him until he felt like giving up and going back to the sanctity of his bedroom. He wondered how long he could stay there, not eating or showering, before Hermione would drag him off to St Mungo's.

His last stop before going home was Gringotts where he deposited, minus what he'd spent on gifts, all of the money that the Ministry had given him when he informed them that he'd be returning to the Aurors. The Ministry had been feeling generous and paid him for all his time off while he was in the United States, settled all of the debt on his faux Muggle credit card, and gave him the difference in pay that he would've been making if they hadn't demoted him to the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. It was the largest sum of money he'd ever had at one time in his life.

He stepped out of Gringotts. As he opened his umbrella, he saw a reporter coming out of the Daily Prophet office. He quickly lowered the umbrella to hide his face, but it was too late; he had been spotted.

"Mr Weasley!" the reporter yelled. Ron couldn't remember his name, but he recognised him as one of the reporters at the Ministry after their interviews.

Ron ignored him and walked faster down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Mr Weasley! Ron!" the young male reporter yelled as he got closer. "Mr Weasley, just a moment please. Are the rumours true that Harry Potter has left the Aurors and will be joining the Chudley Cannons as their primary Seeker?"

Ron spun around. "What? What did you say?"

The reporter wiped the rain drops from his eyes. "Is it true that Harry Potter has joined the Chudley Cannons?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"We received a tip," the reporter said smugly.

"Its rubbish," Ron mumbled, turned away, and hurried towards the inn.

Hermione sat on the sofa, her legs curled up under her, reading a book when Ron stepped out of the fireplace. She looked up and her welcoming smile dropped when she saw his face.

"What's wrong, Ron?"

"Is Harry home?"

"Yeah." Ron turned to see Harry walking into the room. "We were wondering where you were. Dinner's almost –"

"Is it true?" Ron asked, staring at Harry.

"Is what true?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked confused for a moment before his face filled with anger. "Who told you? I wanted it to be a surprise!"

"A reporter for the Prophet. So it's true, then?" Ron asked, dropping his packages on a chair.

Harry nodded with uncertainty.

Ron jumped in the air and let out a whoop. "Yes! Yes! Harry, that's the most brilliant thing I've heard in ages… in forever! The Cannons are going to win the cup and you're going to be the most brilliant Seeker the league has ever seen!"

"You're not angry that I didn't tell you? I only found out this morning. I never thought about the reporters finding out."

"Don't be daft, Harry. You're going to be a Cannon! How could I be angry?"

A huge grin spread over Harry's face and his eyes never left Ron's even when Hermione ran over to him, hugging him and kissing his cheek.

"Harry, that's wonderful," she said. "I thought Oliver said that the Quidditch teams were leery of you and all the bad publicity."

"The Cannons don't care," said Harry, laughing. "In fact they hope that my dodgy reputation will give them a menacing edge against their opponents."

Harry winked at Ron and it sent Ron's heart soaring towards the ceiling.

For the first time since they had returned home, Harry seemed happy. Harry and Ron chatted merrily over the dinner table, discussing Harry's practise schedule and his first game against the Appleby Arrows.

"I've got to practise a lot," Harry said. "I haven't been on a broom in ages."

"Oh, Harry, what about your sessions with Dr Merrick?" Hermione asked.

Harry's shoulders tensed and Ron shot her a spiteful look for bringing it up.

"This is more important," Harry said curtly.

"You can't stop going!" Hermione argued. "It's really important too!"

"I didn't say that I'm going to stop," Harry replied. "Dr Merrick agrees that I need to move on with my life back in the wizarding world and she thinks –"

A thought struck Ron and he interrupted Harry. "Wait. I thought you were going to a Muggle doctor. How do you talk to her about being a wizard?"

"You just thought about that now?" Hermione asked.

"I've had other things on my mind, Hermione."

"Dr Merrick has a daughter who's a wizard," she explained. "She's in her second year at Hogwarts."

"That's a bit of a coincidence that a friend of your mum and dad also had a daughter who's a witch," Ron said.

"Oh, no. They weren't friends before that. They met Dr Merrick at the group mum and dad started to help Muggle parents of magical children to adjust."

"Your parents started a what?"

"It was difficult for them to relate to my studies at first. So they started a group for parents of magical children to help ease through the transition."

Ron and Harry shared a look and a smile, knowing they were both thinking the same thing - that the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree.

"What about the family sessions with us?" Hermione waved her hand between her and Ron.

"What? The bloody what?" Ron looked at Harry for an explanation.

"It's a stupid idea," he grumbled and looked down at his plate away from Ron's eyes.

"Family sessions are quite common during therapy," Hermione said. "We'd go to therapy with Harry and –"

"What? Why do I have to go to therapy?" Ron asked indignantly. "I'm not a nutter." He looked at Harry. "S'ry. No offence, mate."

Harry shrugged. "None taken."

"And since we're Harry's family," Hermione continued, ignoring Ron's comment, "Dr Merrick thinks that we should join him to talk about things together."

Ron gaped at her. "Harry and I… we're talking!"

"Oh, are you?" She looked at him scornfully. "Have you told Harry how it made you feel when he disappeared?"

"Yes. Yes, I did. I told him that I thought he was wrong."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's not a feeling, Ron. It's an opinion."

"Fine," Ron said tersely. "Harry, I feel that you were wrong for disappearing without telling us."

Harry chuckled and Hermione's eyes flashed fury.

"Honestly, Ron! Can't you be serious about anything? This isn't something to joke about."

"Hermione…" Harry said. He dropped his fork on the plate and it made a loud clanking noise. "I told you that I didn't think it was necessary either!"

"It most certainly is necessary," she said.

"I'm going back to work on Monday," Ron said. "I can't –"

"I'm certain Dr Merrick will work around both of your schedules," she said in a tone that told Ron the debate was over.

Harry stabbed at his food irritably, making Ron feel guilty for arguing. Maybe Harry wanted him to go to therapy. Ron pushed his plate away, his appetite gone.

"We have to celebrate Harry being signed to the Cannons," Hermione said cheerfully.

Both Harry and Ron shrugged.

"I'm sorry," she said, sighing. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Please, we were… it was nice talking and I... I'm sorry."

There was a long silence. Ron was stunned that she had apologised. He knew it was often difficult for Hermione to connect with them. She didn't know anything about Quidditch, nor did she care to, and for years they had different careers. Harry and Ron had often spent hours talking about their day and never once asked her how hers was. And even though she was often misguided, she always had their best interest in her heart.

When Ron finally spoke, he kept his tone light and carefree, letting her know that he was willing to move on too. "What did you have in mind?"

"There's a bottle of Firewhiskey that Fred and George brought over the other night when they visited," she said, smiling.

Harry looked up at Ron and they both nodded.

An hour later, Hermione was stretched out on the sofa, her head on Ron's lap and her feet on Harry's, telling them all of the gossip they had missed while they were gone.

"Neville and Susan!" Ron exclaimed and watched as she nodded. "When did that happen? I thought Susan was dating Anthony Goldstein."

"Nooooo… they've been over for ages!" Hermione lifted her head and took a sip of whiskey. "They were both in Flourish & Blotts and Neville ran into her – literally." Hermione giggled into her hand. "You know Neville. He got flustered and Susan thought it was adorable."

"How about you, Hermione? Any blokes you fancy?" Ron asked.

"Not really." She avoided both of their eyes and a pink tint rose on her cheeks.

"You do!" Harry exclaimed, tickling her feet.

She squealed and kicked playfully at his hands. "If you most know, there is a very nice Healer visiting from Italy who asked me to dinner."

"Please don't tell me that you said no!" Ron said.

"I didn't say no. I said maybe."

"Maybe better mean yes," Harry said firmly. "You deserve a nice bloke." He looked at Ron with a mischievous smile. "After putting up with us."

"He is rather attractive. And he calls me bella donna. It means beautiful lady."

"Do it, Hermione," Harry said.

"I will. On Monday… if he asks again."

"No!" Ron said. "He asked you once. Don't make the poor bloke suffer and have to ask you again."

"Do you think it'd be okay?" They both shook their heads and she smiled. "I will. I promise."

"Who else has paired up since I was gone?" asked Ron.

"I'm still trying to process that Ginny and Wood are married – with a baby!" said Harry.

"I heard Lavender's getting married, Won-Won," Hermione said, poking Ron's stomach. "A Muggle."

Ron shook his head. "Poor bloke. If I were him, I'd get tested for love potions."

"And Seamus told me that the Patil twins are both engaged as well," Hermione said. "That's what happens at our age – people start getting married and having babies."

Hermione tensed up.

Harry frowned thoughtfully at his glass.

Reacting quickly, Ron changed the subject back to Quidditch. Harry's enthusiasm level had dipped low though and soon he stood up and announced that he was going to bed.

"Don't, Harry. Please stay," Hermione said.

"I'm knackered," he said.

Ron heard his footsteps on the stairs and his bedroom door close.

"I'm so stupid," Hermione said, sitting up. "I should've never said that."

"It's not your fault," Ron said. "We can't spend the rest of our lives watching what we say because it might make Harry go mental again."

Feeling more sober than he wanted to, Ron drained his glass and refilled it.

"I know," she said. "I just wish he'd talk to us more about how he was feeling."

Ron stared into his glass, the amber liquid gleaming from the firelight. "Why do you think he told you about being gay and not me?" he asked, being sure to keep his voice low so Harry wouldn't hear.

"He didn't want to tell me. It was right after he broke up with Ginny. I was pestering him because I thought he was just being a martyr and he blurted it out to get me to be quiet."

"Oh," he said and went back to staring into his glass. "Did he… do you know if he had a bloke or was interested in any particular bloke?"

"I don't know. I asked, but he told me to mind my own business."

Ron chuckled and shook his head.

"I have to admit, Ron," she said, snuggling up next to him and putting her head on his shoulder. "You're handling Harry's sexuality very well."

"Why are you surprised? I'm not as emotionally disabled as you think I am," Ron said irritably.

"I know you're not. I just thought you might've thought he fancied you and that'd change your friendship."

After a long silence, while Ron debated bringing up the subject at all, he gave in to his curiosity and asked, "Did he say that he fancied me?"

"No," she said, yawning. "Though I wondered… I mean you two are so close and he's different around you."

"Different?"

"More relaxed, I suppose. More like himself."

Something broke inside Ron and he felt as if he didn't talk about his feelings for Harry he'd explode. "Hermione, I've got something to…" His voice cracked slightly. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" Hermione said, putting her hand on his forearm.

"No. I'm really not."

Hermione looked up. "Oh, Ron, what's wrong?"

"When we were in together in New Hope and you know that I told you Harry was acting out his – his sexuality." Ron paused a moment to let his thoughts weighed down by the Firewhiskey reach his lips. "And I was there and he thought that I was a stranger and there were all these blokes and they were so open about being gay and…"

As he spoke, he felt a blush flooding his face and neck. Hermione had to see it too and her eyes widened as he stumbled over his confession.

"Are you saying…? Did you and Harry…?" Her hand flew to her mouth.

Ron nodded and relief filled him, a bit of the burden lifting now that he had shared it with someone who really knew them.

Looking quite dazed, she stood up and walked a few steps before stopping. He stared at her back, wishing he could see her face to know what she was thinking.

"I… I have to admit that I'm shocked," she said, her back still turned. "I didn't think that you were interested in men."

"I never did anything – not until Harry. I mean I had thoughts, but I never really thought about it, you know."

She turned around to face him. "Are you in love with him?" Her eyes bore into him, warning him not to lie.

"Yeah," he admitted for the first time out loud.

Her face and eyes softened. "This must be horrible for you!"

He nodded. "It has been, Hermione. I think about it all the time. We were together and it was…" He stopped himself from saying 'the happiest he'd ever been.' He had been in a relationship with Hermione once and didn't want to hurt her feelings. "It was nice."

She shook her head. "You really shouldn't have done that when he was in that state that he was in."

"I couldn't help myself, Hermione. He wanted me. The way that he looked at me… and you know what it's like when Harry really wants something. I just couldn't fight it. It was still Harry."

"You have to tell him," she said quickly.

"What?" Ron stared at her in surprise. "But – but you told me not to tell him anything."

Waving her hand dismissively in the air, she said, "Ignore that. I didn't have all of the information then. You have to tell him."

"What if he doesn't fancy me back?"

"It's not just that, Ron." She sat back down next to him. "He has to know what happened. You were intimate with him. He has a right to know that."

"I don't know," Ron said, closing his eyes and leaning his head to rest on the back of the sofa. "If he doesn't – and he knows – how could I ever…"

Somehow Hermione understood and she took his hands, entwining their fingers together. "I don't know for sure if he wants to have sex with you –"

Ron's eyes flew open. "Hermione," he whispered, embarrassed.

"But I do know that he loves you desperately and he'd die before he let you out of his life. So just talk to him."

~ ~ ~

The bedsprings creaked loudly as Ron flung himself from lying on his stomach to his back, sighing heavily. The alcohol had worn off and he couldn't sleep with Hermione's words ringing in his ear. He knew that she was right, and he knew that he wanted to tell Harry, but he couldn't figure out a way to actually do it.

After an hour or so, Ron gave up and decided to go downstairs and finish off the bottle of Firewhiskey that he'd left on the coffee table, but when he got down there it was gone. He and Hermione had gone upstairs together, so he knew she didn't put it away.

As he went to check the kitchen, he heard a cough in the study. He looked in and saw Harry sitting in one of the brown leather chairs with the bottle of Firewhiskey in one hand and a half-empty glass in the other.

"Hi," Ron said.

Harry looked up, smiled in greeting, and went back to staring at the massive map of the world hanging on the wall directly in front of him.

Ron sat down next to him and looked at the red pins marking all of the locations where Ron'd searched for Harry. White strips of paper with the date Ron'd been there hung like tiny flags on each pin.

"You couldn't sleep either?" Ron asked.

"Nope," Harry said and Ron thought he sounded slightly drunk.

The Firewhiskey bottle in his hand was fuller than the one Ron had left.

"Where'd you get the fresh bottle of whiskey?"

"I had it stashed in my bedroom."

"Gonna share?" Ron asked, holding out his glass.

Harry poured him a full glass and went back to looking at the map.

"I could tell you stories about some of the freaks I met while looking for you," Ron said, laughing. "See that one there." He pointed to a pin near Leeds. "That bloke was a real nutter. He had a tattoo of your scar put on his forehead. He looked a bit like you if you squinted real hard."

Harry looked at Ron, his forehead crinkled. "Why would he want to do that?"

"Helped him to pull birds, I reckon," Ron said light-heartedly, trying to lighten the densely serious mood in the room.

It worked; Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Did he get many birds pretending to be me?"

"Yeah, he did."

They sat in silence for awhile, both sipping their drinks. When their glasses were both empty, Harry refilled them.

"What were the blokes like that you found me with?" Harry asked.

"They were decent blokes."

"Jim – you two seemed to get on all right," Harry said, sounding bitter.

"He helped us a lot, Harry," Ron said, feeling protective of Jim. "You don't remember anything?"

Harry shook his head. "I've tried really hard to remember something, but it's just blank. There's nothing there." Harry lifted the glass to his lips, but paused. He looked at the map again, his eyes glazing over with something that Ron didn't recognise. "You started looking for me right away," he said.

"Of course, I did."

"I'm sorry that I left," Harry said softly.

"I would've fought against Scrimgeour with you."

"I know and that's why I left."

Ron twisted his torso to face him. "That's total bollocks, Harry."

"No, it's not," Harry said sharply. "I didn't want anything to happen to you. Why can't you understand that?"

"See you really aren't sorry at all! You just said it because your therapist probably told you to or some rubbish like that. Well, did you tell her how stubborn you are and how you think that you have to do everything alone?"

"Yes, I did!" Harry said, his voice dropping dangerously low and angry. "Because it's true though – isn't it?"

"It's not!" Ron snapped back. His own anger had taken control of his mouth. "I've always been there. Hermione's always been there. Right there with you and you're a selfish bastard for not appreciating it."

"I know you've been there with me, but in the end I've always had to go it alone though." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry put up his hand. "And I know you wanted to be there with me and it's not your fault that it didn't work out that way, but it was me alone down in that dungeon with Quirrell, alone in the Chamber with Tom Riddle, alone in the graveyard, and –"

"Shut it, you daft git. Just because it worked out that way doesn't mean you have to force it to be that way." Ron gulped down the last of his drink. "Hermione and this therapist want me to tell you how I felt." He banged his chest and Harry flinched. "You left! You left me. I thought you were dead. I looked everywhere for you and I wouldn't stop and everyone thought that I was going mad."

Harry put on his best charming smile and laughed. "But how did it make you feel?"

"Don't cheek me, Harry." Ron narrowed his eyes and glared. "You left and didn't tell me - like I didn't matter! I felt betrayed! How the fuck did you think I felt?"

"I did tell you, but you –" Harry stopped suddenly, closed his mouth, and diverted his eyes to the floor.

Confused, Ron gaped at Harry, trying to figure out what Harry had meant. Harry hadn't told him. He would've remembered, unless… "You – you – you didn't?"

Harry nodded gloomily. "You came home before I left. You caught me in the kitchen with my things and I… I'm sorry Ron."

The nagging sensation he had often felt when he tried to remember the day that Harry had left made sense now. Ron stood and towered over Harry. "I want it back," he said through clenched teeth.

"What?"

"I want my memory back! It's mine and I want it!" Harry shrank back into the chair, looking horrified at the thought. Ron grabbed Harry's wrist and yanked him to his feet. "Now, Harry!"

"Now? How?" Harry asked as Ron pulled him through the house and up the stairs.

They reached Ron's bedroom and he wrenched Harry into it. After lighting the room, he slammed the door shut and stalked over to the wardrobe. As he rolled the Pensieve out, he watched Harry standing there, his arms wrapped around his waist, looking like a terrified animal unsure of what was about to happen to him.

"Put the memory in here," Ron said, gesturing impatiently at the Pensieve. "I want to see it."

Harry went pale and his eyes widened. "Ron, I can-can't."

"You can and you will."

Chapter Twenty-One: A New Love