Stirring, my eyes fluttered and I looked up at the ceiling. My face was sticky from the salty tears which had been cascading down my cheeks. My hair was bushy and untamed, more so than usual. Memories flooded back into my mind, and my eyes screwed up. I began to cry again. There was nothing for me save for Ron, and I had betrayed him.
Rolling over, I looked at the clock. My tears blurred my vision, so I couldn’t see the numbers properly at first. I couldn’t have seen them properly “ If I had, I certainly wouldn’t have seen 10:25. It would have been ridiculous. I had never been late to work before. I must have been much, much earlier.
I blinked the tears away, to find what time is really was. Funny, the numbers weren’t changing “ Oh no!
I was late. Lucky for me, I wasn’t hallucinating, which was just about the only good thing right now, apart from the fact that I hadn’t changed out of my work uniform. Quickly, I threw my hair back into a bun, grabbed my ID and Disapparated.
I was so distracted when I left home, that instead of the only point in which we were allowed to Apparate, I ended up in a broom closest. “Wonderful,” I whispered. There was always something about the dark that made me want to do so. In this case, it was very lucky that I did.
“Did you hear something?” a deep voice said. I could hear footsteps in my direction, and I squished against the wall.
“No, I don’t,” said a second voice, rather disconcerted by the sound of it. “Can we get a light in here? I don’t like the dark at all …”
“No,” said the first voice. “This is secrecy, and secrecy must always be practiced in the dark.”
“Well, then I don’t think I’m going to like secrecy at all,” said the voice, now sounding spoiled. “If we have to be in the dark all the time …”
“Shut up,” said the first voice. “We have little time.”
“All right,” said the second, “but we better hurry up.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, you twit!” roared the first, losing his cool. “Now shut up, and let me talk.”
I remembered a few times during Harry’s Auror training he had come back from school just to be with his friends. It was in those times that he taught us stealth tips and concealment. Now that I had to use it, I couldn’t remember anything. I became the wall, praying that they wouldn’t see me.
A grunt pulled me out of my reverie. The first voice grunted and I suddenly became aware that he was talking. I could now tell that it was a man who had been speaking. “… Do not let yourself be seen. I’ll be waiting for you at midnight tomorrow. You had better be there on time, or I really will curse you into a thousand pieces.”
The second voice whimpered, a woman, I could now tell. “All right. I just don’t know about this …”
“You had better know about it by tomorrow night,” said the man. “And you had better be there, or we will go through every single one of the ways that I could kill you.”
I heard a gulp from the corner. Be the wall, I thought. Be the wall.
“Let’s go,” he said. “And remember … this never happened.”
The woman made a guttural noise, but said nothing. The man turned the door handle, as I scampered for a place of refuge. I closed my eyes, remembering one of Harry’s fundamental rules: Never look at the light.
The closet door closed behind them. Well, this was wonderful for me, for another of my fundamental rules was never to get locked in a closet. I waited a few minutes, just in case one of them was watching the entrance. I could, of course, have just witnessed an illegal trade or the exchange of illegal media. Nonetheless, the feeling in the pit of my stomach told me otherwise. Even if my other two choices had been just as bad, I had a feeling it was very much more. More than I could ever have wanted.
After five minutes of waiting in the dark, it felt safe to leave the broom closet. Now that I was more than half an hour late, it was refreshing to find myself in the light again. I stood, dazed in the light, trying not to blink. I didn’t want any passerby to think that I regularly spent my days and hours in the broom closet.
The man’s voice, I thought I knew. To be sure, I couldn’t identify him exactly, but I was biased. I didn’t Andrew Redman, nor was I about to admit that he had been civil to me in London that morning. Nevertheless, the voice had sounded like his.
For the woman’s voice, however, I was at a loss. I couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd of woman had she spoken there. Her voice was so stereotyped. It was thin, but not to thin. Quiet, but not to quiet. She sounded like a spoiled little girl, for that matter, and I had no idea what to make of it.
I had been so deep in thought that I hadn’t noticed where my feet were carrying me. Surprise of all surprises, I ended up at Ron’s bedside. I sat down next to him, looking at his pale face. Hesitantly, I raised my hand and ran it along his face, feeling his cheek, rough from days of not shaving. I ran my fingers through his soft red hair and toyed with the few stray hairs that covered his forehead. Oh, how I wished I could hold him. I supposed it was time to wake him.
Standing up, I pulled my wand out of my pocket. “Ennervate,” I said, sending the spell at him. His eyes fluttered, but that was all. Nothing. So he wasn’t stunned. Usually, I could make that spell work for anything. Some Death Eater must have put an ancient spell on him, which no one could break. Well, I thought, taking a few steps. Some Death Eater doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.
I racked my brain for the spell I would need. I had learned many ancient evil spells and their countercurses in Healer training, especially because of the times we were entering. At the time, I had never thought any of them to be necessary, but now I saw their worth. I was particularly glad, at that moment, that I remembered every spell ever taught to me.
“Cataclypso,” I said, trying the countercurse for an ancient spell, the first one that came to mind. It was a little-known spell that could send the one it hit into an irreversible sleep for a thousand years, where the correct countercurse was unknown. Ron didn’t move. It was time to move on.
A few more hours found me sitting in a chair beside his bed, murmuring to myself, a dusty volume sitting in my lap. I had perused its pages many a time, but I never thought that I would need it so often. It was one of my training textbooks. I had tried just about every curse I could find, but Ronald wasn’t waking. I was desperate. I didn’t know what to do to help him, and he was in here for a reason. I was the only one who could help him. Maybe they knew something that I didn’t.
I turned the page. It was full of runes and lettering systems that I hadn’t studied, and therefore did not understand. My eyes misted with tears. The whole operation seemed so hopeless. I had tried everything.
I scooted the chair closer to Ron’s bedside. I couldn’t see him properly from my vantage point, so I stood and sat on his bed. I took his hand in mine.
“I’m sorry, Ron,” I said. “I never deserved you. You were always out of my league. Then, when I found out you wanted me, I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I played with you, Ron. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I suppose it was that which scared me the most. I played you for your heart. I never intended to hurt you.” I laughed. “Look at what I’ve done.”
The tears were now flowing freely. I swallowed them quickly and looked upon his face. “I don’t deserve anything from you. You gave me everything you had, and I put it on display. You loved me, and even though I loved you, I rejected you.”
I looked toward the door and down the hall, making sure no one was looking. “The truth is, Ronald Weasley. I love you. I know you love me, but you shouldn’t. I’ll only end up hurting you again.”
I touched his face. It was warm and soft. I wanted so badly to kiss those lips one more time and remember why I loved him so much. After all, he had been my first kiss and my only kiss, and I wanted him to be my last.
“Promise me, Ron,” I choked. “I never promised you anything, but promise me. Promise me you won’t hate me for what I’ve done.”
Ron’s eye twitched in his slumber. I didn’t know what to do for him. It seemed impossible to wake him from the deep slumber that had fallen upon him. “Ron,” I whispered. “I’ll bring you back. I promise.” I kissed his forehead, leaving a trail of kisses across his cheek and down his neck. “Don’t worry,” I said, sitting up. “I’ll look after you.”
After all, he was everything to me.
I returned to the lounge a quarter hour later, where Hannah was supposed to meet me. Instead, I was greeted by Andrew Redman, the last person I wanted to see. “You’re late, Granger,” he said simply. “It’s a lucky thing we can tell that you were in here only a half an hour late, or you’d be begging to keep your job.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, brushing past him. His eyes flared up, but he seemed to remain his composure.
“It is in your best interest, Miss Granger, to show respect to those in authority over you.” He started to turn away, as did I, but he turned back quickly. “My sincerest apologies for this morning.” He took my hand coyly and kissed it, leaving me stunned.
Two seconds later, Hannah appeared behind me. “What was that about?” she asked incredulously, putting her hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t know,” I said vaguely, staring off into the distance. “He’s been acting very oddly lately. I’m not quite sure what to make of it.”
“Well, come on,” she said. “Want to come see my ward with me? You’re free for a bit.”
“All right,” I said. A thought struck me. “Who’s in your ward?”
“Let’s see …” she said, pondering my question. “Bernard Richardson, Freida Bennett, and …” “ her voice trailed off “ “… Neville Longbottom. Why?”
“Nothing,” I said, relieved. Neville was safe, which was the only good news of the day.
Well, Ron, I thought, pausing for a moment in Hannah’s wake. The truth is, I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you. That’s the truth.