Chapter 3: Moonlight revelations and memories revealed
Harry looked at Ginny, at her shining eyes and perfect, happy, smile and a smile came to his face too. He lifted up one nervously shivering hand and brushed a few auburn strands away from her face. All of a sudden, something glittering under the broken old piano in the corner of the dull room caught his eye, something he hadn’t noticed before.
He pulled away from her, strode across the room and slid his hand under the old broken piano. He could no longer see the shimmering object. He searched about, but there was only dim candles lighting the room and there was so much dust he almost sneezed. Just as he was about to give up hope, and put the sparkle down to his imagination after a stressful evening, he saw it twinkling again; he bent down even further to have a look and carefully picked it up and turned it over.
He gently blew away the dust that was clinging to it, and saw that it was a ring made of white gold with 3 tiny diamonds; simple yet so beautiful. On the inside, there was something engraved in a fancy scrawl, but it was very difficult to make out. He rubbed his glasses and the ring on his robes and looked again. Ginny took a candle from one of the brackets on the wall and came over; now Harry could see that written on the inside of the ring was a tiny L & J.
“What is it?” Ginny asked quietly. “A ring?”
Harry simply nodded, then started scrabbling at something else on the floor. He picked up whatever it was- it looked like a shiny piece of parchment- and he sat on the hard floor blinking, incredulously, at what he held in his hands.
“Can I see?” Ginny asked, seating herself carefully on the floor beside him. Harry didn’t respond; his eyes stayed fixed on the photograph gripped tight in his hands.
Ginny pulled the candle closer to them so she could see the photo properly. One corner was ripped, and it had obviously gotten wet sometime before, but, nevertheless, she could see the picture quite well.
It showed three friends on a summer’s day. The beautiful girl was holding hands with a young scruffy-haired man; Ginny guessed they were both in their early twenties. He had his head turned away as he played with the girl’s long red hair. Next to them was another young man stretching out on the grass; he brushed his shoulder-length dark hair away from his faceas he smiled and winked at the camera. He whispered something to the scruffy-haired man who smiled aswell. The couple dropped hands and the young man reached into his pocket. When he looked up, Ginny immediately realised who it was, although she’d never actually seen him before. He looked into the girl’s eyes and Ginny could see the young man begin to talk, as he did words appeared along the bottom of the photograph:
I’ve loved you since the day we met,
More than you’ll ever know.
When you hold my hand I feel safe and warm,
I never want to let go.
The first night that we danced together
Stars twinkled in your eyes.
I knew one day I’d be doing this;
My love knows no disguise.
I’d risk my life a hundred times
Just to hear you sing.
You’ve stolen my heart, and it’s forever yours;
You’re my soul mate, my best friend, my everything.
Each morning I wake I think of you
And the sun begins to shine.
Lily, I will love you for all time,
Will you be forever mine?
He handed her a tiny, silver box and inside was a white gold ring- the one Harry was now clasping tightly. The girl smiled as he slipped the ring onto her finger and she threw her arms around him lovingly.
“My mum and Dad,” Harry said quietly. The photograph faded and the story began to replay again.
Carefully Ginny put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, however Harry got up and moved away from the piano, as he wiped his shining eyes angrily.
Ginny watched him flop down heavily on the four-poster bed. She didn’t want to make him more upset, but she didn’t know what else to do, so she walked over and sat down beside him, watching the bewitched photograph retell it’s story. After a few moments a tear fell from Harry’s watery eyes, but before he could brush it roughly off his cheek Ginny took his hand in hers and held it tight.
Together they watched the story again and again, until Harry felt he could have recited the words replaying along the bottom, off by heart. Still, every time felt precious, and each time the photo’s story faded and finished he wanted to see it again. To see his mother’s sweet, happy smile one more time, his fathers gazing at the woman he loved, Sirius so full of fun and life again, the three carefree friends together.
Ginny kept tight hold of Harry’s hand the whole time and watched the story with him until her eyelids began to droop; she rested her head on his shoulder and felt herself falling softly to sleep.
Harry’s eyes never left the photograph, but he kept hold of Ginny’s hand and let his tears fall freely, now that she could not see him.
***
Back on the other side of the wall, Ron and Hermione were standing in each other’s arms; Hermione’s head was pillowed on Ron’s chest as she listened to the steady beating of his heart. She didn’t want to leave his warm embrace.
"Hermione?' he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
"Yes?" she replied.
"You know that, I, erm, care for you a lot and… well, I have for a long time.” He bit the side of his cheek as he glanced around. “I just haven't been able to tell you and … I understand if you don't feel the same way,” Ron hurried the last part and blushed.
Hermione didn't know what to say; she breathed deeply, let go of Ron and walked over to the other side of the tunnel. Moonlight poured through a gap in the rocks they had tried to build up at the entrance and made the tears rolling down her face glisten softly. She had liked Ron for so long, and he had just admitted how much he liked her, why couldn't she just come out and tell him that she felt the same way? She knew she was holding back for a reason and she couldn’t quite bring herself to share her feelings.
"Hermione?" he whispered; his voice was shaky and concerned, but this only hurt Hermione more. "What’s the matter? What did I say wrong?"
"Nothing, well, it’s just … you know how much we argue, well, imagine if we were together, if we had a big fight and we broke up!” She shook her head slightly and looked up into his eyes. “I would lose you, one of my best friends, I don't think I could take that.” she stuttered.
"Who says that we will argue? Maybe things will change if we are together, we won’t know unless we try it, will we?" he answered calmly.
She slowly turned to face him, biting her lip, a tiny wrinkle of concern between her eyebrows. She felt helpless and more vulnerable and scared than ever before, especially in the presence of Ron, who had always made her feel so safe.
After a long pause she spoke, "There’s too much at stake; I mean what about Harry?”
"What? Who cares about Harry? This is about you and me.” Ron moved closer to her and saw mistrust and fear lay behind her sparkling brown eyes.
"You don't trust me," he realised slowly feeling sadness wash over him. He leant back on the wall behind him and surveyed his feet.
"I want to Ron, I do, but I just don’t know what to do,” Hermione said truthfully, her eyes pleading.
Ron looked up at her and tried to smile. "Trust me. It’ll be fine"
"But this is all too soon,” she insisted.
"Too soon? Hermione! I think six years is long enough.”
"Six years? You have felt this way for six years?" she murmured.
"Yes," he whispered looking down at the moonlight streaked floor.
She opened her mouth to reply, but Ron interrupted. "I’m not going to force you to do anything you don't want to. If you’re not sure then I understand-”
Though he didn't get to finish what he said as Hermione leaned in and kissed him.
As her lips met his she heard footsteps approaching from behind her. She could tell he’d heard it too and she gazed around worriedly.
Ron fished out his wand and muttered “Lumos” so he could see better, then surveyed the passage for any sign of danger. He heard Hermione gasp and turned around as a thin hooded figure slipped down silently into the tunnel. The moonlight, which before had shone softly, lighting up Hermione’s face, now reflected cruelly in Lord Voldemort’s red, bloodshot eyes.
From the end of one sleeve that drooped around his skinny arms emerged a long, pale hand. He stretched his fingers and Ron felt Hermione stiffen beside him.
Voldemort drew her towards him as easily as though he was controlling a puppet. Gasping for air, she could not scream. She had no defence as her arms were pinned to her sides and her feet dragged helplessly on the floor.
When Hermione reached the place where Voldemort towered, he caught her face in his outstretched hands. His skin was bitter cold, and it stung her tear-stained cheeks.
“Mudblood!” he spat at her. “Tell me where your friend is.”
Hermione closed her eyes, and tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he grabbed her robes, pulling her closer, and grip around her face tightened.
Inside her head she heard his chilling voice. “Tell me, you know where he is!” Her mind was blank apart from the echoing voice. .“Fine, I shall find out myself!” It shouted inside her.
Her eyes were forced open, and she was staring straight into his for an instant. Close up she could see his eyes were filled with an unimaginable hatred, and his pupils were small and dark; no reflection danced there.
Hermione scrunched up her own eyes, and suddenly she saw herself racing down the dark tunnel, passing easily through the wall of rubble and up the steps into the Shrieking Shack. She sped through the black hallway, and up the flight of stairs to the room where they had found Sirius and Ron a few years before.
“Petrificus Totalus!” came Ron’s voice from somewhere far below.
Immediately, she felt an enormous lurch in her stomach, as though she was being thrown backwards, and she opened her eyes to find herself huddled on the floor, shivering in fright.
Voldemort had his wand pointed at Ron, who was dangling upside down in midair, apparently unconcious. Hermione was strongly reminded of the Quidditch World Cup, where a family of muggles had been levitated and paraded around the camp by Death Eaters.
Although her hand shook violently, Hermione reached for her wand, before remembering it had been broken in two. Ron’s face was now white and Hermione was sure she had to act fast so, without thinking, she picked up the biggest rock she could reach and threw it at Voldemort. Surprisingly, it hit him right on the side of his head. Hermione gasped in shock, as he was knocked off balance and Ron fell to the ground.
“You foolish girl!” Voldemort yelled, rounding on her.
Hermione attempted to run straight past him to where Ron lay in a heap, but Voldemort had already raised his wand. Again, she felt as though she was bound by insvisible ropes. With a swish of his hand, he threw her at the tunnel wall, where she hit her head violently and blacked out, landing beside Ron.