A/N; I do not own anything you recognise.
Chapter one; Home
An amazing magical force seemed to exhale from the cup, giving it an aura of un-touchability. They were circling it, trying to figure out what to do. All three were already bearing the marks of their efforts to reach this particular Horcrux. Entering the Malfoy Mansion hadn’t been an easy business. The house was protected by many charms and, as it was owned by a very well known family of Death Eaters, it was very likely that they would meet some of them.
They planned their visit for when they knew the mansion would be empty, but the time was still limited. They were trying to keep their mission a secret from Voldemort as much as humanly possible but entering one of his closest servant’s house undetected…
It took the trio more than one hour just to enter the house and another half hour to reach the secret compartment hidden under the drawing room floor. They descended the stairs and found a room entirely lit with torches of green fire, which gave everything a macabre look. The circular room wasn’t very big. Strange objects were perched on shelves and others were hanging from the ceiling. Harry, Ron and Hermione immediately started to look around, careful not to touch anything in there. It was Hermione who found the hidden door beside a particularly weird looking stone owl that seemed to stare at her wherever she went.
That’s where they were now. The room was smaller than the previous one and there was only the cup on a stool in the middle of the circular space. Everything was lit in green. Nobody was talking. The three of them were standing around the cup, observing the powerful aura radiating from it. After a few minutes, Harry raised his wand and the other followed his lead.
“On the count of three,” he said.
Before he got to say “two,” the green lighting of the room gained intensity as if someone had lit ten more torches. It lasted about five seconds before returning to normal. Everyone started to look around trying to find the source of the disturbance. The walls were made of stone and completely bare except for the wooden door, which was still open. They all stood there, very still, eying each other’s rigid faces. Hermione gasped silently as footsteps echoed over their heads. They hurried out of the room, closed the door and listened intensely. If they were about to be found, it would be better if their assailant didn’t see them around the Horcrux. The purpose of their visit to the mansion would be a little less obvious this way.
Everything was silent. The only sound audible was Ron’s quickened breathing. Hermione looked at Harry, pointed her wand and then her left forearm. He nodded. She then performed a circular motion of her wand over her head along with an un-spoken charm. This particular bit of magic was designed to identify the position of any Death Eater within fifteen yards. It wasn’t a surprise to any of them when one bright red spot appeared in the air. There was one Death Eater in the mansion and he was apparently in the drawing room over their heads, just a little right from the trap door leading to the hidden space.
They couldn’t talk and try to improvise a strategy. Whoever was here, and they suspected it was Draco, would certainly hear them. Ron’s mind was racing. Strategies were mainly his responsibility. Should they try to get Malfoy to enter the room, so they would have a chance to get him as soon as he would set foot on that first step? Should someone go first trough the trap door, trying to take him by surprise? But Malfoy shouldn’t be here just now. He was supposed to be with the other Death Eaters all afternoon. Why was he home already?
He couldn’t go any further in his thoughts. A faint creaking sound came from the trap door and before he could even look up, a huge exploding force knocked him to the ground. He heard Hermione scream and Harry hexing. His own head had just hit the floor with much force and he was dizzy, his eyes couldn’t focus on the surroundings. But what he heard made his stomach contract madly. It was indeed Draco’s voice. He tried to get to his feet but stumbled and fell over almost immediately. Flashes of green light met with red ones. Objects were crashing on the floor everywhere, sending bits and parts flying around him. Three voices were shouting hexes, unforgivable curses and defensive spells. Everything was confused. The room was almost filled with smoke and dust. It was harder and harder to see in the restrained space. He managed to take control of his arm and aimed at the figure sending jets of green light. Only two figures were engaged in a furious duel now. Why wasn’t Hermione helping Harry? He knew the two duellers were Malfoy and his best friend. The indistinct figures were too tall to be her.
He corrected his aim and stupefixed Malfoy at once. The young Death Eater wasn’t ready for this attack. Maybe he thought that Ron had been put out of fight by the first blast he sent from the top of the stairs. He heard a thump as Malfoy’s body hit the ground and then a complete silence filled the room. A moment later, the dust began to fall and Ron got up standing once again. He had to put one hand on the wall to maintain his balance. The first thing he saw was Harry making sure that Draco wouldn’t annoy them again, adding other spells to keep him quiet while they would take care of that Horcrux. The silence made the redhead uncomfortable. Where was she? Ron began to walk slowly around the room, still a bit unbalanced by the shock. Each of his steps produced crunching sounds as he walked over bits of various objects littering the floor.
He soon saw her. A dark form lay on the ground near the door leading to the second room. He kneeled slowly next to her and put her head on his lap. Her eyes were wide open, her mouth fixed in an indescribable form. She was probably in the middle of a spell when it hit her.
Afraid, very afraid, of what he could find out, Ron reached for one of her wrists. He was desperately searching for a pulse when Harry sat on Hermione’s other side, taking her other hand. After one very long minute, Ron gave up. He bent down, resting his forehead against hers, a silent tear running down his cheek. Near Hermione’s head lay the strange stone owl on its side, with one broken wing. Its great grey eyes still looking at her.
***
A year later, those memories were still very painful for both Harry and Ron. Of course, they knew all along that the death of one, two or even all three of them was likely to happen at some point, considering what they intended to do but it still came as a shock. The worst was that they couldn’t take time to dwell on Hermione’s death inside the Malfoy Mansion. Time was precious and they were mere meters from a Horcrux. They had to leave her lifeless body on the stone floor and proceed to destroy the Hocrux. Hermione would have told them to do so, if she had still been alive. It was Ron who finally managed to melt the cup, puffy eyed and shaking with anger. They then modified Malfoy’s memory and brought Hermione’s body back to her family.
The tall redhead blinked twice, trying to erase the images of that day from his mind. He was on his back on one of the Knight Bus beds on his way home. He wanted to use this time to think calmly before going to the Burrow. Voldemort had been finally destroyed just a week before and Harry and he needed a little more time to heal and rest before going back to ‘a normal life,’ if such a thing really exists. Harry was not with him. He claimed he needed a little more time with himself and to be honest, Ron was pleased with that decision. They were still best friends, but it appeared very clearly that some time apart would be welcomed by both sides. Ron was feeling empty. Empty of energy, of strength, of life. Of hope. Those battles took a lot from both of them and it would take a long time to regenerate all that was lost.
It was nearly 11 PM when the Knight Bus finally stopped with a loud ‘bang’ in front of the Burrow. The air was fresh and light in this May evening as he stood in the alley leading to his home. He could hear the wind ruffling the leaves on the trees nearby softly and the same wind on his cheeks. He hadn’t took the time to appreciated those little things in such a long time that he stood there for a few minutes, observing his home, the handle of his trunk in his hand. Only one light was visible through the windows. Someone was still awake in the kitchen.
He made his way to the front door, breathed deeply one or two times and pushed the door open. The first thing he saw was his mother. She was standing right in front of him, crying, and holding her famous clock. Ron’s needle was pointing ‘home’.
Mrs. Weasley was very relieved that her youngest son was finally here. She thought that he would have come home right after Voldemort was defeated and was a little disappointed when she received the owl saying that he would be there a bit later, that he needed time to himself first. But that was all forgotten now; he was home, at last.
Ron convinced his mother to wait for the morning to come before telling all the others he was here. There was no point in waking everybody up and he, himself, needed some sleep. When she looked deeply in his eyes, she saw things only a mother could see and agreed with him. The good news could wait until tomorrow. She conjured him a cup of hot chocolate and kissed him on the cheek before sending him to his room. She observed him very carefully as he climbed the stairs. Her son had changed. His left arm seemed stiff, his skin paler and she was pretty sure that he was also a bit skinnier. When she heard him close his door, she sighed deeply and went back to sit in the kitchen. She was wondering if giving him the letters on the very night of his return was a good idea.
“Maybe he won’t see them,” she said to herself.
Upstairs, Ron dropped his trunk in a corner of his room and sat on the edge of his bed. Everything looked exactly the same. He watched the players on his posters waving at him while drinking his hot chocolate. Pig’s cage wasn’t in the room. He left his owl to Ginny before going with Harry and Hermione. The only other thing different was that there were no clothes on the floor or on the back of the chair of his desk. His mother obviously kept the room clean in his absence; there was no dust and the sheets of his bed seemed freshly washed. Another thing caught his eye. On the corner of his desk, neatly piled, were a few letters. He got to his feet and saw a little note on top of the envelopes.
Mr. Weasley,
We found those letters addressed to you in Hermione’s belongings. It was only fair they were returned to you.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger
Setting the cup of chocolate on the desk, Ron took the letters in his hand and counted them with trembling fingers. Four. Hermione wrote him four letters and never sent them. He gazed at them. Each one had his name on the envelope neatly written. She wrote to him. That thought seemed to be reluctant to enter his mind. He stood there, immobile, for almost five minutes. There is not point to those letters now. It won’t change the past. It won’t bring her back. With that last thought, he opened a drawer of his desk, dropped the stack of letters in it and pushed it closed roughly with his palm.
Turning his back to the desk, he undressed, dropping his clothes on the floor and slipped in bed. He extinguished the lights with a little wave of his wand and the room went dark. He tried to make himself comfortable in his bed and closed his eyes. It won’t bring her back, he thought again, frowning.
A/N; I love to hear from you, by the way, so reviews are really appreciated and helpful... Especially since this is not the typical R/Hr romantic kind of story. I'd really like to know how people react to it.
This story is already fully written and is five chapters long. I'm thinking of adding one more chapter somewhere in the middle, to explain a few more things. I'll ask my very helpful beta what he thinks about that. I'll be posting the chapters regularly so you won't have to wait too long for the updates....