disclaim/ Harry Potter does not belong to me. wah! please don't sue
It Dose Not Do To Dwell on Dreams
"Have you ever been in love Hermione?" The question hit her so suddenly, so unexpectedly, she blinked at the tall red headed girl opposite her. Ginny, at 21, auror in training and 6 months pregnant was stretched elongated on the large yellow sofa of her London apartment. Draco had a shift at St Mungo's and so she and Hermione were having their weekly girl time.
"I guess I have..." she fiddled with the cushion cover. " I think I had a crush on Ron in fourth year?"
Ginny shook her head. "No I mean in love... Like Ron and Luna or," she blushed, "me and Draco."
Hermione looked down, tears prickling at the edge of her vision. "I don't know..." she said quietly, "...can you be in love with a memory?"
Ginny smiled sadly at her. "A memory almost killed me... if it can do that, then you can be in love with one."
They talked of small things: Bella, bill and Fleur's daughter, was starting school in a few weeks; her 5th birthday was that weekend. Even Draco was going- a rarity, as there were still issues between he and the Weasleys, especially Ron. Hermione herself had tried to put aside her past animosities. Though both of them knew they would never be close, the two were willing to give it a go for Ginny's sake.
At three, Draco arrived home. Hermione smiled as she watched Ginny meet him at the door. Glad once more that she'd helped the couple be together. Whatever she thought of Draco, she knew he loved her red headed friend. Could we have had that? Had I realised sooner? She shook her head. It does not do to dwell on dreams. Even the old words, tired from their constant use, held a painful kind of irony.
She glanced at her watch and winced. Half an hour until her shift. She smiled apologetically at Ginny. "Got to go- not all of us can get off on pregnancy leave." She pointed to the swollen stomach.
Ginny grinned as they walked to the door. "You just want one." she teased. Hermione made to go but Ginny caught her arm, her eyes strange. "For a long time I...but-he loved you," she smiled, "It does not do to dwell on dreams... I'm happy. He would want us to be... especially you."and she was gone.
Ron was already there when Hermione arrived. They had been working for about 4 hours and he was smiling happily. She elbowed him. "What's got you so happy? I haven't seen you this chipper since you asked Luna the question."
Ron glared at her. "I was not chipper!"
Hermione snorted ."Not chipper? Not chipper? You were annoyingly, incessantly, indecently chipper... We were glad though: We'd been trying to get you to do it for ages." She frowned, "You know, I always wondered why you two didn't get together at Hogwarts."
Ron looked down. "Well, you see... there was someone else... and it took me a long time to realise things would never work between us... It was only after that, I saw Luna for what she is." Hermione was surprised: She had been friends with Ron for over eleven years; they had been through so much together, dreams and nightmares alike; yet this was something she honestly had not known about Ron.
"Who was it?" she asked slyly. "She must have been a real idiot not to notice you."
He stood. "Doesn't matter... that's the end of my shift. I'm off."
Now she was really intrigued: She'd never seen Ron like this; it wasn't that he was embarrassed; but why he wouldn't tell her, she couldn't fathom. "Uh-uh... you're not leaving 'till you give me a name... and an explanation."
"Don't push it Hermione." he growled.
She drew back, shocked. Ron hadn't used that tone with her in a long time. Not since before... "Ron, I-"
"I was in love with you Hermione." The words died in her throat. He smiled sadly, "but it was always him... everyone could see how it was between you two... even when you couldn't see it yourself... But he realised, I think, before the end."
Hermione stared. How could she ever tell him what had passed between them, especially now, after this? "Ron-"
"Don't Hermione." His voice was firm, but softened as he continued, "he's been dead for five years, and still stands here with us... between us, as though in the flesh... I watched the way your eyes lit up when you saw him...And I realised a long time ago- I would always be second to that. He smiled at her. "It does not do to dwell on dreams... I'll see you tomorrow Hermione." and he was gone.
the sun was setting in the distance. Casting blood red flames across the sky. Fading as the first stars glowed. Lanterns in the nigh. Harry was lying on the soft, sightly dewy grass. Gaze wide and fixed on the heavens. Hermione couldn't blame him. The passionate scene drew the eye and plunged the thinker into a world of colour and shape. Sitting down Hermione felt consumed by it. Slowly, without thought she lay down beside head resting on his shoulder. Anyone else might have considered it uncomfortable, but Hermione barely even registered it. It was just so natural-so right.
"Hey Mione" she smiled in the darkness. Why was it Harry could calm and warm her with a word? Everyone else was complicated and difficult, but Harry was just Harry and exactly what she needed him to be. there was a few moments silence.
" Harry" she asked quietly "what's going to happen after this?i mean, where do we go afterwards?"
"I don't think there's going to be an afterwards for me Hermione."
she felt a chill spread through. Starting in her heart and slowly moving across each limb. Until she was frozen.
"don't say that." she whispered.
Harry sighed "come on Hermione, do you think that that we're all going to make it through this?that after its all over we'll just go back to school and get on with our lives, happy ever after. You're smarter than that."
"so don't you want to live" the words were hash but she need to understand
"of course i do. But its not that easy. Even if i live through this and that's a big if, what then? My life was never exactly easy, and i can't even imagine it ever being normal. I've killed people. I've watched my family die. It's not that don't want to be like everyone else, but i know I'll never have that. I'm not naive. It does not do to dwell on dreams."
Hermione wanted to say something, but what could she say? How could she say anything to that. She was angry, it bubbled, red and potent just below the surface. She was angry at him for giving up so easily, for destroying all of her hopes for the future. Most of all she was angry because everything he said was true.
She looked up and her eyes fell immediately into the green, she was drowning.
"I'm in love you Hermione, I want you to know that before the end"
"Harry-" what was going on. How could all this be happening, him thinking he was going to die, telling her he loved her.
He shook his head " you don't have to say anything, you don't even have to think anything just forget this."
"But-"
"Don't. Its just another dream."
and then his lips were pressed against hers, bliss for a fragile heartbeat. Then the next moment he was gone.
. and slowly the red eyed man descended backwards through the archway, and Lord Voldemort fell into death.
everyone froze. For a moment a harder breeze stirred the silver grey veil, then it fluttered as it was before. But it was was not the same as before. For Hermione nothing could ever be the same as it had been a moment ago. She wasn't aware of belting forward or collapsing in a heap in front of it, all she knew was a pain had erupted inside her and her entire body was consumed with it. She gasped
this was worse than the crucious curse, this was worse than anything. Because when Voldemort had fallen through , Harry had fallen with him.
She couldn't keep it in any more, it was too much. She began to cry, great sobs that shook her to the bones. "no" she muttered, not really knowing what she was saying " no you can't... not like this" her voice was rising until she was almost screaming "..you c-can't..because it wasn't a dream, ok? I love you to. I LOVE YOU." and it was true. She had loved Harry since she was eleven years old. But had never known, never understood until this moment when everything in her was breaking. How could she have not realised? How could she have let him go? "i love you" she whispered "please don't leave me alone." but it didn't matter, whatever she said. Harry was gone.
Hermione walked down the long hallway to where she would find peace after the dream. It was one she had in a long time, but she supposed, with all that happened that day, she should have
been expecting it. Glancing across the room she saw the motionless painting of Mrs Black. Hermione had never known why Harry had left her no.12. Maybe he wanted to look after her, or a last tribute to Sirius that a muggleborn inherit the great pure blood house. But there was always that other reason- that he knew she would need it to remember him. There was that old anger in it. That he had given up before the end. But maybe he had known, in a way none of them could, and he had wanted her to be happy.
She opened the door, it creaked stirring the dust, which had become thick and dark over the years. But she would never clean this room. Because still beyond the musty damp there was still the small odour that would always be Harry. Ron's old bed was empty, but Harry's trunk still lay at the end of his. The pictures of his parents, Sirius, Remus and even themselves still danced in their photo frames. The bed was still slightly mess, pillow draped to one side as he had left it, hastily pulling it up that last morning in July. And for five years time had forgotten this room, freezing him like a fossil in her heart. Hermione lay down burying her head in the pillow where his sweet sent was just a little stronger. She could almost feel him now, arms rapped around her waist soft breath her hair. Lying behind her as he had so many nights, when she'd been up talking late with him and Ron, or she had had a fight with Ginny. It had been nothing romantic, though she had never stayed in Ron's bed, neither of them had really even thought about it like that, their only kiss had been that last fleeting moment, and she was never sure any more if that too was a dream. So many dreams and nightmares, it was hard to tell when she was awake sometimes. It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry had told her that the summer she had turned 17,in that soft time between sunset and moonrise when the stars had yet to light. so she wouldn't dwell on his death, or Ginny and Ron's feelings, or even the kiss. She snuggled into him, that last part she could still almost touch, almost feel. "I love you" she whispered to a memory. Whatever else that had not been a dream, for either of them.