Becoming Beta

Chapter 35

A/N: Four chapters to go! Can't believe the end is almost here!

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"I won't do it, Hermione!" Harry shouted at her for what felt like the millionth time that evening.

She'd arrived home much calmer than when she'd left. The last few weeks had been overwhelmed with grief, guilt, and anger. She had put all of her energy into trying to be strong for Harry and keeping them both safe while they fled. It was a relief to share her tragedy with her Mate, and Draco's reassuring presence had been a welcome reminder that she had more to do than hide and survive. She was excited to show Harry the house Draco had given them to stay in. It was much safer, and the library itself was going to be incredibly helpful.

"Harry —" Hermione began.

"He's the reason Ron is fucking dead. You know that, right? It's all his fault! We needed Ron! I needed Ron. I can't... I won't..." Harry trailed off, furiously wiping the tears from his eyes.

Hermione gulped. It wasn't all Draco's fault. She blamed herself more than anyone. She felt a lump begin in her throat and tears pricked at her eyes. She turned away from Harry and looked out the window of the drawing room. Grimmauld Place always felt bleak, and the sky outside was no better. London was as grey and cloudy this summer morning as her heart felt.

Her lip quivered, "It's not really, Harry. I — I'm the one who helped him.... And if Greyback hadn't seen us in that alcove..." Hermione trailed off as the tears began streaming down her face.

"It's my fault Ron's dead," Hermione said in a clearer voice after wiping away her tears.

"All of it is my fault. I helped Draco with the vanishing cabinet. He'd never have finished it without me. I watched the Death Eaters come into Hogwarts. Ron's blood is on my hands, Harry, quite literally," she sniffed and continued. "D-Don't you know how that feels? Or how it felt to watch my best friend bleed out in my arms... unable to do anything to help him... all the while, knowing, KNOWING, it was all my fault? If only I hadn't helped Draco; if only I had been able to protect Ron from Greyback; if only I hadn't been injured, then we wouldn't have been in that alcove at all! So many things could ha-have ch-ch-changed..." Hermione trailed off as she broke out into full-blown sobs.

She should be dead. She wished she was. Greyback should have killed her, not Ron. Not sweet, innocent Ron. He hadn't been doing anything more than healing his best friend, trying to protect her.

"Oh, gods, Hermione," Harry said, deflating. She soon found herself wrapped in a familiar pair of arms. "It's not, it's not your fault. Don't cry. You'll just make..." He murmured.

She cried into Harry's shoulder, as she had so often over the last few weeks since fleeing Hogwarts. Despite her preparations, being on the run was harder than she'd expected. It wasn't just hiding out. It was realizing her face was plastered over the Muggle media. It was trying to call her parents to tell them not to worry about her, that she was safe. Food was a constant challenge — Tonks or Remus dropped by when they could with groceries, and that wasn't often. Hermione had been too scared to find a place to destroy the diadem, and they still had no idea where to find Slytherin's necklace or Hufflepuff's cup.

The diadem was becoming a problem. It whispered nasty, unspeakable things to her. At night, when it was dark and she was alone, she found herself wanting to obey. She felt compelled to do the horrible things the diadem whispered to her. She shuddered and pulled back from Harry, shoving the diadem out of her mind once more.