Thanks to MissPurplePen for her beta work on this!


Disclaimer: Everything in this story belongs to the talented Jo Rowling with exception
of certain things like the plot etc. I am merely a Muggle who hopes to bring
the magic of the HP universe to life through my stories.



The breathtaking blue sky stretches endlessly like a motionless sea. Wisps of cotton candy clouds drift across the winter sky. Crisp white snow carpets the ground and covers the trees which look like chocolate cake covered in white icing. The sun, a gold-yellow orb hanging in the sky, is already reaching out with its million spear-like arms, grasping handfuls of snow and melting them with its gentle heat. A slight mist hangs in the air like an extremely thin, translucent drape. The whole place is quiet except for breaths of the mist and the soft, nearly inaudible whispers of the wind. The place looks like a park, a small park. Wooden benches which are covered with mounds of snow, some completely concealed by the cold white powder, are nestled among the trunks of leafless trees which are silhouetted against the azure sky. It is the wonderful morning of Yuletide.

On one of the benches sits a young woman with copper curls which spiral just above her shoulder blades. She wears a wooly maroon scarf and sits leaning on the bench, her head tilted downwards so that her chin rests on her chest. Her curls brush her cheeks, which are tinged with a slight crimson hue softly.

In this whole place, there is no sign of any life. The whole place is devoid of any colours except for bright yellow rays of the sun. Yet, around her alone, bluebells, hyacinths and roses spring to life. It is as if the flowers are keeping her company. The place is the Garden of Elov, a place of life and love, a place where flowers and greenery come to life when there is love and life around.



The young lady slowly lifts her head. She sees two beautiful butterflies flying in a pair. Their fluttering wings - which are in different shades of red such as dark, velvety red, scarlet and crimson - are somewhat a comfort to watch.


The butterflies fly away from the young lady, their wings that look like they are dipped in various hues of red paints reminding her of those of a tiny snitch that Harry used to catch with such brilliance. Hermione Granger stands up and follows the butterflies. She keeps walking as if she knows where she is going. Her newly-purchased suede boots sink deep into the snow and go crunch, crunch, crunch. She digs her hands into the pocket of her brown coat-robes to draw what little heat is available as she trudges across the path which is paved with snow.


All of a sudden, she hears merry laughter that sounds wonderfully like chimes in the passing breeze. Oh, how she has come to love it these few years. It is a sound that reminds her of a new life full of hope, of a lifetime to live. The laughter is followed by idle, joyful chatter which she had expected to hear when she arrived at the park. The female and male voices are talking and happiness is evident in their voices. The voices are growing louder and louder. She knows she will be able to see the people who are talking anytime soon. The snow falls on relentlessly and soft winter wind brushes her cheek and whispers in her ears as if enjoying her company.

Then, she sees them. Harry and Ginny are right in front. They are talking to each other. Harry whispers something into Ginny’s ears and she laughs. Ginny looks magnificent in sky-blue coat-robes and has wrapped a glimmering midnight-blue scarf around her neck. Harry, on the other hand, is wearing splendid emerald-green robes. The shimmer on his glittering coat-robes looks like powder from crushed diamonds dancing in the sunlight. Hermione wonders if the coat-robes were made from dragon hide of the finest quality. Hermione notices that Harry and Ginny are holding hands.

Suddenly, someone taps Harry from behind. Hermione thinks she caught a glimpse of vibrant red hair. She quickly peers to see who it is. Lupin emerges from behind with Tonks and their two-year-old son, Oris. Her heart drops as an uncontrollable feeling of disappointment washes over her. If only it had been the person she had expected to see. She exhales, disappointment once again washing the shores of her heart like a deep, dark ocean. Not being a person to fret for too long, she quickly looks up and waves at the bunch, and they wave in return. Hermione looks at Remus, Tonks and Oris and can’t help smiling. They look like such a cute family together. Tonks and Oris–a Metamorphmagus as well–have the same colours in their hair, which is streaked with red, white and green stripes to honour the Christmas celebrations. Remus is looking at Hermione and smiling. It warms her heart just to look at them. How could she ever have gone on without words of encouragement from these people? She smiles in return.

Then, there he is...It is as if he appeared out of nowhere. Her heart skips a beat; is it really him? As he walks behind Lupin, his form is silhouetted against the magnificent gold-yellow rays of the sun. His head-full of vibrant red hair is like a halo of red surrounding his pale, freckled visage. He approaches her casually, his hands tucked in the pockets of his maroon velvet coat-robes, which seem to turn into a shade of deep mauve where the sunlight is not so strong. She wants to run, run to him; her legs are ready, yet she doesn’t do so.

She stands there reminiscing. With a vivid flash of remembrance, she sees with her mind’s eye the love and passion in his eyes when they first kissed. He was a gentle kisser; his tongue had only explored her mouth shyly after she did so. Hermione, daring as always; she thinks quietly to herself. She thinks of how his hand was placed gently on her cheek, caressing it softly while they kissed, while their lips met in an eloquent silence. She feels the warmth of those hands on her cheeks even now; it is as if his touch is still lingering on her skin. She remembers how he smelled of pumpkin juice then. Now she pictures how angry and jealous he had looked when she had gone to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, how his eyes flashed with fury and jealousy just as she had suspected when he got to know. She smiles at this thought.

She remembers the heartbreaking sadness which was etched on his face on the day she had told him she was leaving for Albania to further her studies in Triple Transfiguration, a complex Transfiguration course. She remembers the gratefulness in his eyes which melted her heart when she returned to fight with him and Harry against Voldemort. She remembers the bravery, resilience and courage with which he had taken her hand and said that everything would be alright…


It has been five years since all that happened, five long years. The scarlet butterflies are now flying in front of her, silver dust dropping from their wings like fairy dust. She captures them with her hands. When she is just about to blow the silver dust from her fingers, she looks up to see Ron looking at her in the eyes. She smiles cheekily and blows hard. She sees panic in Ron’s eyes for a moment just before the dust enters them. Then he starts coughing and spluttering. Hermione is reminded of the moment he gave her a box of chocolates on Valentines Day. She had raised an eyebrow in suspicion. True enough, a spider had sprung out from an opening in the heart-shaped chocolate just when she was about to pop one into her mouth. She had let out a little scream. Ron was so amused that he laughed so hard his insides had hurt. His reaction had been far worse when Hermione used a reflective charm to make the spider jump onto his nose. He had run all around the place, trying to pluck the spider away from his face, screaming and wailing the whole way.

Ron has recovered from the fairy dust earlier and is looking at Hermione with a fistful of snow. There is a mischievous gleam in his eyes. The corners of his lips begin to curve upwards into a grin. Simultaneously, a huge snowball catapults from Ron’s hand and hits Hermione in the face.


“Arrrggh!� She screams, her hands balled into fists. Ron is already running, his feet sinking into the snow, leaving deep footprints. She runs after him and after a few moments manages to catch him. He pulls her close and she rests her face on his chest; embracing the warmth which emanates from his body. She hears his strong, steady, rhythmic heartbeat. He lifts her chin with one hand and looks into her eyes. Hermione can see her face reflected in them, which look like blue mirrors. His face and hers are barely an inch apart. His misty breath is playing with her hair and tickles her face...

A/N:* Garden of Elov-The word ‘Elov’ is an anagram of the word ‘love’, you rearrange
‘Elov’ and it becomes ‘love’. It also stands for ‘Everlasting love’, as in,
(E)verlasting (lov)e.

*Oris(Tonks’ and Lupin’s son) name means colour in Latin. Since he is a
Metamorphmagus, I thought the name would suit him as he can change the colour of his hair and his appearance at will.

Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I hope you liked it. If you did, do look out for part 2 of the story which is the final part. If you have anything to say at all, feel free to leave a review. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

“Hey, Hermione...Hermione!� Someone is shaking her shoulders. “You alright?� Harry’s intense green eyes are focused on her face. He sounds concerned. It takes her a moment to realize what has happened. It is just her mind playing cruel tricks on her. Ron isn’t here. In fact, she is still standing at the same spot she was standing at when she saw Harry, Ginny, Tonks, Lupin and Oris.

“Yeah, Harry. I’m fine,� she says, attempting a smile.

Lupin and Tonks are already standing right in front of Hermione. Behind them, Ron appears again. He stands some distance away. He begins to walk towards Hermione. The rays of the sun shine from behind Ron’s body, surrounding him with a golden-yellow aura.


“All of you ready?� Lupin asks, his wand out. They are now standing around a marble stone which is nearly buried beneath the snow. Everyone nods in silence. He waves his wand and tiny, colourful firecrackers erupt from it above the stone. When the firecrackers stop, Lupin conjures a small Christmas tree with ornaments and a silver star shining brightly at its top. He hands it to Oris.

He conjures a single stalk of rose and hands it to Hermione. The rose is thornless and its beautiful, soft petals are reddish-orange in hue.

Oris toddles and places the Christmas tree on the stone, which is barely visible from beneath the snow.


Then, it is Hermione’s turn. She motions for the rest to leave first. Ron, who has been silent all this while, is walking towards her. The scarlet butterflies encircle him now. Hermione turns to the marble stone, a tombstone, and pushes away the mounds of snow which conceal it.

‘Ronald Bilius Weasley
R.I.P
A wonderful young man who will remain in
our hearts forever,’


the writing on the marble tombstone says simply. Immediately, Hermione is transported in her mind’s eye to the war in the Wizarding world, which took place five years ago. Much of the battle she can’t remember, but there is one part which is still etched in her mind and will always stay there till the day she dies.


Many wizards, witches and Aurors were among those who were present to help Harry win the battle. She and Ron were fighting a few Death Eaters while Harry was dueling with Voldemort. At one point when Voldemort used the killing curse, Harry managed to dodge and the curse which was supposed to hit him in the chest hit him on the hand. It had only prolonged the time it took for the curse to kill Harry. Ron had seen what had happened to his friend, and, without even thinking, he immediately performed a complex charm with which he transferred his life force into Harry’s body.


“Go, Harry! Go!� he had said in a hoarse whisper. “The Wizarding world needs you.� Those were his last words. His eyes, then, were full of courage, strength and sadness all the same.


Crystal clear tears form a pool in her eyes. They begin to trickle down her cheek hotly. She wipes them away with a quick swipe of her mitted hands. She looks at Ron, who is walking towards her. His form is slowly turning translucent. The spear-like rays of the sun which penetrate his body are getting stronger. The outline of his figure is beginning to become thinner, as if it is dissolving into the morning air. It sparkles like fairy dust, and then Ron is gone.


“It’s true, Ron. Our loved ones don’t truly die. They live on in our hearts,� she whispers softly. “Thank you for all the moments you shared with me, Ron. They are...� Then she sees the butterflies once more. “... are colourful memories, like the wings of those butterflies. They will always remain with me.� She is silent for a while.


“Now it seems to me that I have never lived the moments with you enough. It feels as if I did not appreciate each day with you enough. Never thought you’d be there one day and gone the next,� she says; her tears are forming a clear rivulet as they run down her cheeks. She wipes them away.


“But now, I have learned to appreciate the time I spend with Harry and the rest of my friends and family. You going away has taught me that I must appreciate the people I love, Ron. Alright, I have to go now. They are waiting for me. I am going to appreciate each and every moment I spend with them this Christmas. After all, I don’t know if tomorrow will come to greet me or not,� she says in her heart. She looks at the rose that she still holds firmly in her hand for just a moment, the reddish orange petals of the flower reminding her of Ron’s red hair.


A vast emptiness arises within her as she brings the stalk of rose close to her mouth. An irreplaceable loss, the emptiness whispers. Her lips brush against the petals softly. “I love you, Ron, and I always will,� she whispers, her voice full of somewhat deep sadness. She places the single stalk of rose on the tombstone, where it glows like fire against the snow and the white marble. The cold, winter wind blows once again, and Hermione shivers a little.


She stands up, smooths the creases on her coat-robes and, without turning around, walks away. And with every step she takes, the snow beneath her footprints melt away. In the place of the snow where she stepped a few moments ago, blades of green grass full of verdure spring to life in the exact shape of Hermione’s footprints.


She has learned to live life each and every day to the fullest. She has learned to love everyone around her even more. Ron has given Hermione the most wonderful Christmas gift: the gift of Love when he was around and the gift of Life when he isn’t.


A/N: I know it’s going to sound clichéd, but it is true that we can never be sure that tomorrow will arrive or not. The way Hermione lost Ron in the Wizarding war, some of us in this might have lost our friends in accidents and such. We never do anticipate such things to happen, but, unfortunately they do.Therefore, show your loved ones that you love them even in the smallest ways. Sorry if I rambled too much and Happy Today to all of you reading this! (I don’t think there is such a thing as Happy Today,nevertheless, do enjoy your day today!)