Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly...
Arthur lay motionless on the cold black floor, his labored breath exhausting him deeply. Somehow he had to collect his remaining strength, center it and use it to withstand one more wave of memories. He was already past needing to leave The Hall, his body suddenly feeling his age, plus years beyond. His hands trembled beneath him as he pushed himself off the ground, threatening to collapse at any moment. But Arthur held fast, pushing until he found himself sitting erect, facing the pulsing red mass in the distance.
You know what I need… don't you, Arthur thought angrily, unable to help himself as he stared weakly at the winding scarlet streams. You know why I'm here… what I'm facing ... you can sense the love I brought with me, the strength it gave me to come this far… why must you insist on torturing me? Arthur filled with dread as the streams wriggled violently, threatening to sweep over him. His angered thoughts seemed to have deeply upset The Hall.
At first he was sure he would pay dearly for his derision, but many minutes passed and the waves did not approach. Instead they almost seemed to call out to him, beckoning him closer, like a child wanting to whisper a secret in his ear. Arthur could feel his skin paling, his stomach sinking at the prospect of moving towards the beating heart of the room. Surely he could not survive such a force, stepping into the very depths of the power of love. And yet the streams summoned him forward, reassuring and calming in their undulating grace. A feeling of ethereal hope sang from their light, piercing Arthur's very soul with trust and longing.
A soft whimper escaped his lips as he pulled himself painfully to his feet, his legs quavering madly. Fear unlike anything he'd even known was screaming in his heart as he crept across the vast expanse, approaching the core, the center of the room. But there was little time for fear. He had come too far, experienced too much to turn back now. He had no other choice but to believe the feelings in his heart, and to keep moving forward. A reassuring voice whispered softly in his mind, telling him he was doing the right thing, begging him to believe in the power of love, and promising that freedom and deliverance lay at the heart of the room.
Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes wide and unblinking as he drew agonizingly closer to his fears. The swirling bands opened wide, wrapping seamlessly around his body in one swift motion. A startled cry rent from his lips as it swept him off his feet, hurtling him rapidly towards the pulsing heart. There was no chance for second guessing his decision, no moment to panic as the streams pulled him in to their crimson folds, consuming him in the warmth of love...
Welcoming winter sunlight shone warmly over the frozen trees, glimmering through the evergreens laden with icicles and fresh snow. The world was slowly coming back to life, awakening after a peaceful night's rest, eager to greet the possibilities of the new day. In a copse of trees, a small flock of birds sat chirping happily, pecking absentmindedly in the drifting snow, their songs breaking the silence of the morning.
Suddenly they stiffened, snapping to attention at the sounds of something approaching. The crackling of wood and the breaking of branches grew steadily closer until the flock finally took to the skies in alarm, scattered bits of snow to the earth in their hastened flight. The cause of their distress became immediately clear; a young man with dark black hair was creeping stealthily into their midst, a wand clutched tightly in his gloved hand. He cringed as the birds cawed in alarm, grimacing with every flap of their wings. He'd given away his position. Any moment now, he would be under attack.
As if on cue, a massive hail of snowballs came hurtling through the trees, hitting him square in the face and sending him crashing to the ground. He laughed despite himself, sitting up slowly and glaring pointedly at a ginger-haired man who had just come into view.
"Nice aim, Ron," Harry said with fake disdain, wiping clumps of snow off his black-rimmed glasses.
"Thanks!" Ron replied, a satisfied grin on his face, stepping forward to help Harry off the ground.
"You'd never have found me if it hadn't been for those blasted birds," Harry said irritably, dusting snow from his robes.
"Is it my fault you woke up half the forest? You're really rubbish at being sne-" Ron's words were cut off as an avalanche of snow came pouring down from the branches above, giving him the look of a tall, gangly snowman as he stood frozen in shock.
"What was that about being sneaky?" Harry shouted, running in the opposite direction, Ron fast on his heels. They bolted through the trees, snaking their way towards a small shack in the distance, each pummeling the other with magically charged snowballs as they raced through the woods. Harry was just about to plunge through the front door of the cabin when it suddenly flew open, revealing a short yet strangely formidable young woman, her arms crossed in annoyance. Harry came to an abrupt halt before tumbling to the ground in a wave of limbs as Ron collided with him.
Ron grunted, pushing himself into a sitting position and adjusting his maroon hat until he could properly see. "Morning, Hermione," he said with a sheepish grin, waving merrily as she scowled at him from the doorway.
"Morhnink, 'erminee," Harry mumbled, his face still pressed partially into the snow.
"Hmpf," Hermione huffed, stalking out into the morning air, wrapped snuggly in her warmest winter robes. "This whole time I thought you were out practicing your spells and preparing for our next Horcrux mission," she grumbled, walking swiftly to the wood pile.
"We were preparing ourselves," Ron insisted, helping Harry off the ground.
"Oh yes, I'm sure this morning will come in handy if the Death Eaters happen to challenge us to a snowball fight," Hermione bit back, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
"You could join us if you'd like," Harry said with a grin, twirling his wand with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"No thank you," Hermione replied as she magically stacked a few logs into a floating heap. "I have more important things to do, like studying up to keep you two alive!"
"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Ron whined, walking slowly in her direction. "It's the day before Christmas. Can't you just take one minute to relax and have fun?"
Hermione dropped the stack of wood in annoyance, turning around to face Ron, a severe look plastered on her face. "Are you mad? Have you forgotten that we're in the middle of a war? We don't have time for fun! Harry, I'm surprised you let him talk you into this!"
"It was my idea, actually," Harry said with a smile, laughing at the indignant look spreading across Hermione's face. "Ron's right, Hermione, it's the day before Christmas. Let's take a break for five minutes and just enjoy the fact that we've made it this far."
Hermione frowned, gazing slowly between the two boys before her, shifting her weight as though she were uncertain. Finally she turned back to the neglected stack of wood, continuing her task without a word. Harry looked at Ron and shrugged, turning about and slowly walking away.
Ron frowned a bit, turning around as well, mumbling, "A bit of fun would do you good," over his shoulder as they moved away. He was just about to suggest to Harry that they strike up where they left off when a snowball came plummeting through the air behind him, smacking his face with unexpected force. Stunned, he and Harry turned back just in time to see a dozen more flying through the air, and Hermione racing in the opposite direction with a triumphant squeal.
Many minutes and attacks later, Ron and Harry finally caught up to Hermione, tackling her to the ground and pelting her mercilessly with an avalanche of snowballs. She screamed in response, her face trapped somewhere between exhilaration and terror as the boys retaliated with unrelenting force. Finally, when you couldn't tell their three frozen, soaked forms from the snow covered landscape around them, they called a truce, laughing uncontrollably as they began slowly walking towards the cabin.
About halfway up the trail, Harry began to measure his steps, his eyes shifting slowly between Ron and Hermione. A small grin started to spread across his face as he gazed closer at Ron, who was undeniably having an inner battle with himself about something. It only took Harry a few seconds to realize the source of Ron's dilemma upon meeting his eyes, or counting the furtive glances Ron was regularly throwing at Hermione.
"Oh, I, er, dropped my hat…" Harry improvised, stopping in his tracks. "I'll just be a second, you two go on without me."
"But you weren't wearing a hat," Hermione said in a confused tone, walking in Harry's direction.
"Sure he was," Ron jumped in, correctly interpreting Harry's intentions. "Come on, let's keep walking." Hermione squinted skeptically at Ron for a brief moment before shrugging her shoulders and moving to his side. They walked along in silence for a few minutes, relaxed in each others quiet company. The forest seemed to take its cues from Ron, stirring up a frigid breeze and increasing the speed of the swirling snowflakes until Hermione shivered, giving Ron the perfect excuse to wrap his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. Hermione obligingly melted into him, a shy smile on her face, her eyes cast to her feet as they trudged along.
"This really is a beautiful place," she whispered, breaking the silence as she gazed at the almost enchanted woods around them. She'd chosen it herself as their base of operations, the perfect place to hide, to prepare. "I feel like I could stay here forever," she finished wistfully, a content sigh escaping her trembling lips.
"Maybe we could come back and live here one day," Ron mumbled almost imperceptibly, his free hand adjusting his hat nervously. Hermione froze in her tracks, gazing wide-eyed into Ron's pale, freckly face.
"What?" was all she managed, clearly caught off guard at his words.
Ron looked distinctly unsure of himself, shuffling his feet and not meeting Hermione's gaze. "I said maybe we could live here one day. You know, once all this mess is behind us."
A slow smile began spreading across Hermione's face, obvious surprise in her eyes. "I'd love to," she said, tears threatening to escape, her voice cracking.
"Really?" Ron asked hopefully, looking Hermione in the eyes. He let out a gleeful shout when she nodded her head, snatching her up off the ground and spinning her wildly around in circles. Grinning broadly, he took her hand in his and continued walking along the trail, gazing askance as her rosy face. "I'll do this properly once the war is over," he added after a few minutes.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean when I have some money to my name and we're not standing in the middle of the bloody forest freezing our knickers off," Ron said as they reached the shack, holding the door open for Hermione to enter.
"I don't need anything more than this," she said in earnest, pausing beside him in the doorframe.
"I know… but you deserve it," Ron replied, kicking the snow off his shoes. Hermione smiled serenely in reply, pulling on Ron's scarf until he was close enough to wrap her arms around, trapping him in a warm, loving kiss…
Arthur felt himself slipping deeper into the crimson folds, willingly allowing himself to be pulled further into the imprint around him, losing himself in its simple beauty. He watched the memory of the day progress with a reverent sigh. The Hall had been ready to give him this day, this brief glimpse into their lives, from the first moment he had arrived. He could have received it right off, before experiencing anything else, but The Hall had its reasons for holding this memory back. Arthur had to witness everything else, to experience true terror, love and devotion in the face of destruction, before this imprint could possibly seem worthy.
Given the choice, in the beginning, he would have sought something grander, shinier and more extravagant than this day. His eyes would have been blinded by cheap glimmering moments of happiness, drawn to frivolous days of lighthearted, mindless mirth. But now, now that his heart was filled to overflowing with the true nature of love, and caring, he saw the truth. Love doesn’t need frills to be wonderful. This day, though quite like any other in so many ways, was perfect. Beautiful. The hours passing around him showed friendship, their connection. If anything could pull them out of their nightmarish memories, it was the promise of each other.
Fading into exhausted darkness, his body quickly losing steam, Arthur opened the box Mr. Deogol had given him, absorbing the memory as it passed, letting it consume him completely…
Many hours later, long after the world was plunged into peaceful darkness, Harry lie awake, unable to sleep despite his best efforts. He slowly rose from his cot, casting an envious look at Ron and Hermione, nestled comfortably in their beds, Ron snoring contentedly, Hermione smiling at her dreams. With great care he made his way out of the small room, closing the creaking, aged door with a careful hand. He stalked slowly to the miniscule window at the front of the shack, peering with squinted eyes through the frosted pane.
Beyond the glass, the world appeared almost too peaceful. White and pure, gentle and forgiving. No signs of the war, no indication of the bloodshed they'd already experienced. Just peace. Perhaps it was the warmth of Christmas day, casting a temporary Illusionment Charm on his eyes. Or maybe things always looked better in the quiet hours before dawn. After quite a few minutes of personal reflection, Harry was disturbed from his reverie by the sound of a groaning floorboard and the scuffle of slippered feet.
"Happy Christmas, Harry," Hermione whispered as she came to his side, a tired smile shining on her face as she pulled her quilt tighter around her shoulders. She took a seat below the windowsill, leaning her head against the wall as she gazed at Harry. "You miss them, don't you?" she asked in a knowing voice after a few moments of friendly silence. Harry cast her a confused look, obviously uncertain of whom she was referring. In response she pointed to Harry's hand.
Harry looked down, smiling wryly to himself. Within the clutches of his fingers was a tarnished, weather-worn gold necklace, a tiny heart with the inscription " J & L" dangling merrily at the end. Harry had found the necklace in the rubble at Godric's Hollow, a gift from his father to his mother, lost for nearly sixteen years beneath broken stones and forgotten memories. Harry had taken to keeping the necklace with him at all times, as though it represented his parents in some way, their strength resonating from the gilded chain.
"I didn't even realize I was holding it," he said softly, running his thumb over the heart before returning it to his pocket.
"They'd be really proud of you. For everything you've done," Hermione said thoughtfully as she looked through the window.
Harry considered her for a minute, as though he were trying to decide something. "I bet your parents would be proud of you, too." Hermione turned and met Harry's gaze, a sad smile upon her face.
"I know they would."
Silence fell between them, relaxed smiles playing on their lips as they continued watching the morning arrive. "You know, Harry, I've been thinking about Ginny alot recently."
"Really?" Harry said ironically, as though he'd been expecting this conversation, "and why is that?"
"Well, as things with Ron and I have gotten more… complicated," Hermione began, pausing as Harry cocked one of his eyebrows and smirked at her choice of wording, "I started to wonder why you didn't want Ginny by your side. Ron and I are facing the same chance of loss as you and Ginny, but we know we can be more useful to the Order by staying together…"
"Ginny does more for the Order than the three of us put together," Harry interjected fondly. "She's better off in London than out here."
"But why? And don't tell me you want to keep her safe, Harry, I know you better than that and it's complete rubbish."
Harry chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'll tell you my reasons if you tell me what you meant by 'complicated,'" Harry said mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the flushed look on Hermione's face.
"Well, you see," Hermione mumbled, "Ron sort of asked me to marry him this afternoon."
"I knew it!" Harry said triumphantly, pointing at Hermione and laughing merrily. "So?"
"So I said yes," Hermione replied, unable to conceal a goofy grin as Harry stepped forward and pulled her into a brotherly embrace. "But we agreed to wait until after all this mess is behind us."
"Well, we've been dealing with this mess for over a year and a half now. Are you sure you can wait?" Harry teased mildly as he stepped back to the window, his arms folded across his chest.
Hermione huffed indignantly, trying unsuccessfully to hide a small giggle. "Alright, now it's your turn. Why let Ron and I risk life and limb while leaving Ginny behind?"
"You make it sound so simple, like I can compare one of you to another," Harry said, his voice suddenly tired. "In the beginning I didn't want any of you to come with me. I was determined to face this completely alone. But now… I can't imagine you and Ron not being here. You're more like appendages now, a part of me. I don't think I could function in this fight without the two of you.
"But Ginny is… different. She's my reason. My goal. If I had her here beside me, I don't know if I'd have the strength to keep on fighting. It's the promise of being able to go back to her when this is all through that I'm holding onto. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly," Hermione said, looking at Harry as though she was seeing him for the first time. “We all have our goals. The things we want that keep us going.”
“That’s true,” Ron said from across the room, surprising them with his sudden arrival. “Mine’s getting back to Mum’s cooking.”
Harry and Hermione laughed, shaking their heads in amusement. “Surely there is something more than food that’s getting you through this,” Hermione smiled in exasperation.
“You know what’s getting me through this,” Ron mumbled, nudging Hermione’s leg with his knee and grinning timidly down at her.
“Shall I leave you two alone, then?” Harry teased with a half smile.
“Don’t you dare! You know what he meant!” Hermione laughed, slapping at Harry’s arm. “He meant his family, and the prospect of maybe having one of his own someday,” she finished, blushing profusely. Ron turned slightly red as well, though his smile remained.
“Speaking of,” Harry said, breaking the awkward silence, “I think you should go home for Christmas, to be with your family.”
“I’m already with family, mate!” Ron laughed, giving Harry a gentle shove. “Just because you’re not a redhead doesn’t mean you’re not a Weasley.” Harry smiled appreciatively, shoving his hands in his pocket and unconsciously clutching the small, golden necklace.
No one spoke for quite awhile, each lost in their own thoughts as they watched the sun creep above the horizon. It was a brilliant sunrise, captivating and warm. It seemed to work some kind of magic on the morning air, bringing the world closer, promising a perfect Christmas holiday.
“Hermione,” Harry mumbled in the peaceful silence, turning his head to stare at his friend. “What’s your reason?”
“My reason?” she inquired, turning away from the dazzling light.
“Your reason for fighting. For being here,” Ron offered, curiosity on his face.
“Other than you two?” Hermione chuckled turning back towards the window, her face illuminated in golden streams of light. “I suppose it’s the possibility of a life without this war. A life without fear and loss. The promise of at least one last golden day when the battle is finally over, a day to just celebrate and be together. That moment when we can finally prove that this wasn’t all in vain; that there is something worth fighting for.”
“A light at the end of the tunnel,” Ron whispered.
“A chance at real happiness,” Hermione smiled.
“Love,” Harry finished, clutching the gold heart in his hand, basking in the glow of promise, his friends forever at his side.
One Last Golden Day by Gryffinpuff
Chapter Notes: I'm sorry that this chapter was so long in coming. I struggled with it, believe me. I kept trying to make it perfect. Finally I realized that the great memory, the one Arthur has been searching for all along, doesn't have to be glittery and grand to be perfect. It just has to be filled with love, and our trio has that in abundance. I hope you enjoy! One more short chapter to follow, thanks for reading!