"That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Harry. “And quite honestly…I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”*
Hermione smiled, but her lip was trembling and she flung her arms around Harry. She needed to reassure herself that he was here, alive, to feel the warm, living, breathing, solidness of him. Remembering seeing his limp body at Voldemort’s feet, she shuddered and hugged him tighter. Harry gave her a squeeze back and then he did something he had never done before and kissed her on the cheek.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. “Both of you.”
Hermione pulled away from him and looked over at Ron. He was standing watching them, arms crossed, his eyes surprisingly bright. Hermione held out her arm and he stepped over, putting an arm around her shoulders as she slipped hers around his waist. He held out his hand to Harry.
“Glad you’re here, mate,” Ron said.
Harry gave a small laugh and shook Ron’s hand vigorously. Hermione saw the look that passed between them and she smiled. With one hand still on Harry’s shoulder and the other around Ron’s waist, she felt a great sense of peace and contentment. A great weight had vanished from all their shoulders, tension that she hadn’t even realized was there until it was gone had left all their faces. Despite the horrors of the night, or perhaps because of them, it was a beautiful morning.
The three of them stood like that for a few moments before the silence was broken by Dumbledore’s portrait, which cleared its throat and said, “I beg your pardon, but I must ask for just a few more moments of your time.”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione broke apart and turned towards the portrait. Despite the feeling of calm still lying upon her, Hermione couldn’t help feeling a shiver of foreboding, and glancing over, she could tell the boys shared her thoughts.
“No need to look so concerned, it’s not bad news,” Dumbledore smiled. The smile faded though, and a more serious expression took its place. “It has just occurred to me that while I have asked for Harry’s forgiveness for everything I have put him through, I have not yet apologized to Ron and Hermione.”
Whatever they had been expecting, it was not that. Hermione was stunned and she saw Ron’s eyes widen in surprise. “Apologize to us?” he said. “What for?”
“My dear boy,” Dumbledore said, “I wouldn’t have thought you would need to ask. For the terrible burden that I placed on the two of you, by allowing Harry to reveal to you the terrible secret of the Horcruxes. I must admit, it was not a casual decision. In the end, I knew he would have to be alone, but I hoped that it might not be until the very last. From all I’ve heard, you both rose to the occasion magnificently. I am very proud to have had the opportunity of being your headmaster.” He smiled again. Hermione felt herself blushing and beside her, Ron’s face matched his hair. “The wizarding world owes all three of you a debt of gratitude.” This sentence was punctuated by renewed applause from the other portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. Hermione could feel her cheeks positively burning now and Ron was nearly purple.
“Thank you,” she managed and Ron nodded.
Harry laughed, clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, and said, “I don’t know about you, but I could go for a sandwich.”
Hermione and Ron both started laughing. “Best idea I’ve heard in days,” Ron said.
Waving to the portraits still applauding them on the walls, the three of them headed out the door, back down the moving spiral staircase, and into the corridor below. There reality struck again as they took in the damage there. It was a sobering thought, knowing that the rest of the castle was in much the same shape, and worse to consider that the ruin of the castle was the least amount of the harm that had been done last night. But best to push that thought away for now, Hermione thought, trying hard to put up a wall before lifeless faces could flash in front of her eyes.
“Up to the common room, do you think?” Harry asked. “I wasn’t kidding about the sandwiches. I’m starving and I’m pretty sure Kreacher would be happy to bring us up a plate.”
“And I wasn’t kidding when I said that’s the best idea I’ve heard from anyone in days,” Ron replied.
Hermione said nothing; the adrenaline of the night was finally seeping away and exhaustion was slowly taking its place. She simply focused on putting one foot in front of the other as they picked their way through the still-deserted corridors towards Gryffindor Tower. She didn’t even register at first when Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. Harry looked back.
“Go on up, mate, we’ll be there in a minute,” Ron said.
Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing and continued walking.
“What’s up?” Hermione asked him.
Ron didn’t answer. He led her over to a bit of a niche in the wall, where a massive vase had previously stood, judging by the shards now littering the floor.
“Ron?” Hermione asked again.
Still, he said nothing. They were now standing facing each other on either side of the alcove, which Hermione suddenly realized was not very big. They were very close together and she suddenly felt nervous and wished she had space to back up, but her back was already pressed against the wall. Ron was looking at her and she felt a thrill of something like adrenaline shoot through her. Hermione was beginning to understand what he was getting at, but she stood still. She had made the first move, back in the Room of Requirement. It was his call, now.
Ron took a step closer. He placed a hand on the wall on either side of her and Hermione felt her heart start to beat faster. He was still looking at her, as if waiting for her to stop him, but she didn’t. Slowly, he leaned closer. And he kissed her.
How long it lasted, Hermione didn’t know. It was enough just to stop thinking, to forget, and simply to feel. She let herself go, arms wrapped around Ron’s neck, feeling one of his hands just below her shoulder blades, the other at the nape of her neck. Seven years of tension melted away and she was left with nothing but a feeling that this was precisely where she was supposed to be.
Exactly when the tears started, she didn’t know. And whether she felt her own or his on her cheeks first, she couldn’t have said. It was a sudden realization to find herself sobbing, face pressed against Ron’s chest, and Ron shaking, his face buried in her hair and somehow they managed to sit down, side by side, and though she was still grasping his hand, hard, Hermione buried her face in her knees and wept her heart out.
Every emotion that she had held back the night before was bursting through the wall she had built, the wall she had been forced to make in order to get through, to do the job that had to be done. But now, it was all coming back in one overwhelming rush. And she was so tired of fighting. So she let it consume her: images of Fiendfyre, of Lavender being attacked by Greyback, of battling giants and acromantulas and killing curses flying through the night, of Snape bleeding to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, of Remus and Tonks cold and still, of Fred with the laughter still hovering in his features, and of one moment of pure horror on the front steps of Hogwarts. Hermione sobbed until she simply didn’t have the energy to continue. And when she had managed to take several deep, shuddering breaths and gain a margin of control over herself, she turned to look at Ron.
His eyes were shut tight and his mouth was trembling.
Tear tracks stood out starkly on his grimy face. He was still clutching her left hand tightly in his right. As if he could feel her watching him, he opened his eyes and turned to look at her. The blue was ringed all around with red and she doubted she looked much better. This was confirmed a moment later, when Ron said, “Blimey, Hermione, you look like hell.”
This was such a wildly inappropriate statement given the circumstances that Hermione could do nothing but laugh. As hard as she had been crying before, she was now laughing, and Ron joined in weakly. She leaned over and hugged him. “You need to check a mirror before you go telling other people they look like hell,” she whispered, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek.
Ron shrugged and held out his hand. They helped each other to their feet and then, still hand in hand, continued up to Gryffindor Tower. There were a few people in the common room, but they were grouped in their own little clusters and no one took much notice of them as they crossed to the staircase leading up to the boys’ dormitories.
“Hope Kreacher really did bring a plate up,” Ron said. “I’m starving.”
“Me too,” Hermione said. Strange as it was, food sounded amazing right then.
Walking into the dormitory and expecting to see only Harry and possibly Kreacher, they were momentarily stunned to find a small crowd in the room, all clustered around a heaping platter of sandwiches. Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Parvati all turned as they came in.
“Girls aren’t really allowed up here, you know,” Seamus said thickly through a mouthful of bread and turkey.
“You lot should talk,” Ron replied, nodding at Parvati.
She shrugged. “Our dormitory was empty, I didn’t really want to be up there by myself. And then when Dean came down into the common room and said there were sandwiches up here, I decided to join them.”
“How’s Lavender?” Hermione asked as she and Ron approached the table.
Parvati’s face crumpled. Dean put his arm around her. “She’s”well, she’s going to survive, Madam Pomfrey says, but she’s hurt pretty badly. She broke quite a few bones when she fell over the banister and that foul beast Greyback left some scratches. Madam Pomfrey says she’ll be okay, it’ll all heal, but still,” her voice broke and the sandwich in her hands trembled, “she looks awful.”
There was silence for a few moments. They all stood with heads bowed and the reality of the situation crashed against them all again. Then Seamus swallowed his mouthful of food and the tension broke and Parvati looked straight at Hermione again.
“People who were in the entrance hall told me you were the one who blasted Greyback off of her after they fell.” She came around the table and hugged Hermione tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Hermione couldn’t speak for a moment. She fought hard against the tears that were threatening to make a reappearance. “I’m glad she’s going to be okay,” was all she could think of to say.
Parvati released her and they smiled at each other through tears. All four boys standing there looked slightly uncomfortable and were busying themselves with the food. Hermione turned her attention there too and as she did, she realized who was missing.
“Where’s Harry?” she asked. There was just the slightest panicky inflection in her voice.
“He’s over there,” Neville said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Dead asleep.” Then, realizing what he had just said from the looks they were all giving him, he quickly rephrased, “Fast asleep, I mean. He was out when we got back in here, but there was a note on the food,” and he held up a bit of parchment that said “Help yourselves” in what Hermione recognized as Harry’s writing, “so we did what it said.”
Hermione walked a little closer to Harry’s bed. He was sprawled on top of the covers, still fully clothed, his mouth open, and his glasses lopsided. He looked, in fact, exactly as he had when he was laid at Voldemort’s feet and Hermione stared hard at his chest to make sure that it was rising and falling. Satisfied that he was merely getting some well-deserved rest, she gently removed his glasses and laid them on his bedside table. Harry didn’t even move.
Turning back, she found the others staring at her. “What?” she asked defensively. “I wanted to be sure he was breathing. Can you blame me?”
They all shook their heads. “I did the same thing,” Neville replied. “Just wanted to be sure.” He looked seriously around at the rest. “That was something, what he did though, wasn’t it? I couldn’t have done it, walked right up to”V-Voldemort, and let him, well,” Neville’s voice trailed off.
There was silence. None of the rest could think of anything to say. Then, Ron said, slowly, “I don’t know that anyone but Harry could have done what he had to do. Still, Neville, killing the snake and all, right in front of You-Know”V--Voldemort, that was pretty damn impressive.”
There were murmurs of agreement and Neville flushed scarlet. He took a large bite, apparently to save himself from having to say anything.
Within a surprisingly short time, the plate was empty and with the last of the pumpkin juice, they held a quick toast, echoing, though they didn’t know it, the witches and wizards of seventeen years ago, who had also held glasses aloft and whispered, “To Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.”
Glasses empty and stomachs full, Hermione and Parvati together went to their own dormitory and the four boys climbed, fully clothed, into their beds. Within minutes, they were all fast asleep.
Over the Next Year by Arial Felchem
Story Notes:
**As always in this fanfic world, nothing belongs to me but my storyline; all of the characters, settings, spells, etc come directly from the amazing mind of JK Rowling.
Chapter Endnotes: *this quote comes from page 749 of the American version of Deathly Hallows.