AN: I found this on my laptop, and I wrote it about six years ago, so its probably pretty bad, but I thought you may like it.
"He probably missed the train. It'll be okay, though, Dumbledore or McGonagall would sort something out, wouldn't they?" Hermione asked, and Ron nodded, only really half listening.
They were both worried. They couldn't find Harry on the train, and they hadn't heard from him since his birthday, and that was a month ago.
Something had happened, Ron was sure of it.
He thought back to the flying car just over a year ago, when he and the twins had rescued Harry from his family. He thought of cat flap in the door, the many locks, and the bars on his windows.
He was being abused. That much was certain.
"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger!"
They both turned around, hearing their head of house calling for them. A part of Ron hoped that Harry would be with her, maybe battered, but he'd be at home, and he'd be okay.
He was wrong. She was alone.
When she reached them, she spoke again, her tone softer than normal, worrying the two young teens.
"I think you should come with me," She said, her voice somewhat broken.
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, but followed her, Hermione slipping her hand in Ron's for comfort. He looked down at their interlocked hands, before looking up, focusing of following her.
She led them up the stairs towards her office, and let them in.
Quickly, she gestured for Ron and Hermione to sit down, and they did so, not wanting to waste time. Fear and worry was beginning to eat at them, and for once, Ron's thoughts weren't on food.
"I'm sure you are aware that Mr..." She paused for a brief moment, "That Harry wasn't on the train today."
McGonagall's eyes were watering, and Hermione instantly asked the one question that Ron wanted to ask.
"Is Harry okay?"
McGonagall looked up at Hermione, and stayed silent for a long moment, before answering slowly, "He is now."
Ron laid in his bed that night, the memory of the body imprinted in his mind.
Harry was dead, and it was partially his fault.
Maybe if he had pushed his mother into doing something about the Dursleys, or if he had gone to someone himself... then maybe Harry would be fast asleep in the bed next to him.
Just maybe.
McGonagall had said it was a miracle Harry hadn't died years ago. She said Harry was a miracle back when he killed Voldemort as a baby, and everyone had forgotten he was only human.
Even Ron.
It was then he cried, loud sobs escaping his throat, and the hot tears burned as they ran down his cheeks.
He turned on his side, burying his face in the pillow, trying not to wake the others in the dorm.
All three of the boys were still up, quietly talking. They had sat on Neville's bed, being the furthest away from Ron's bed. They could hear his sobs, but they didn't move to go and comfort him, knowing it was better to cry in peace. If he needed them, they'd be there.
"We should have seen it," Seamus murmured, swiping at a stray tear. He wasn't ashamed to cry, but he knew he wasn't feeling a quarter of the pain that Ron was feeling, let alone guilt.
"Abused kids know how to hide it. It's not our fault," Neville reasoned.
Dean turned his head, and looked at Ron's bed, hidden by the curtain, "Try telling him that."
Little did they know that the girls in Hermione's dorm were having a similar conversation.
Classes were postponed until the funeral, which took place on the 9th September. Ron and Hermione sat in the front row, tears running down both their faces. The rest of the Weasley family were sat in the row behind them, and the Professors behind them.
Houses or blood status didn't matter that day. After the professors, the students sat with whoever they wanted, and no one cared. It didn't matter, not anymore. Their saviour was gone, and that's all most cared about.
After the students, hundreds of strangers were assembled, from ministry workers to people who only knew a face in the paper.
"Harry wouldn't have wanted them here," Hermione had complained to Ron. He had nodded, agreeing.
When the service started, Harry was carried down the isle by a crying Hagrid. The body was covered in a white blanket, but it didn't make it any easier. It made it hard, knowing it was Harry.
He placed him in the open coffin at the end, just behind the podium. The blanket was removed, and he walked away, taking a seat with the Weasleys.
It was then the minister stepped up, and started speaking, "Today we are here to honour Harry James Potter, born July 31, 1980...
Hermione and Ron didn't really listen to anything the minister said, but when he offered for anyone to step up and say anything, Draco Malfoy stood from his seat, and walked towards the podium keeping his head down.
Hermione's mind filled with worries at what he would say, but they weren't necessary.
"Harry and I never really saw eye to eye, but... but he was a brilliant person. He didn't care what your name was, or who your family was, just as long as you were a good person, and not just to him, but to others as well. When I first met him, I was expecting a spoilt little boy, with the kind of upbringing I have had, but I was wrong. I wish I had seen that sooner."
He paused then and looked directly at Ron and Hermione, swiping away a few tears he had allowed himself to shed.
"I hope others that are in an abusive home now step forward in an attempt to leave that situation, and I hope that Harry is now home, with his parents, and being deeply loved and cared for in a way he should have been all his life. Thank you for listening to me."
He then walked away, quickly making his way back to his seat, leaving a stunned silence behind him.
No one noticed the whimpering black dog at the back of the funeral.
After the funeral, 12 children came forward and admitted to being abuse. Most of which were muggle born, or muggle raised.
Hermione didn't attend classes for an entire week after the funeral, and barely ate. She spend half her time sleeping and half her time crying. Ron, however, buried himself into school work, and did everything he could to make changes.
When Hermione eventually attended her first class of the year, she was shocked by the changes everyone had made.
Her first class was double potions, and she was less than impressed. She didn't want to go, but she knew she had to.
She entered class surrounded by Ron, Neville and Lavender, but no one said a word. She had imagined people would say that she had already replaced Harry with Neville, and that wasn't the case. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. He wanted to protect her from any pain anyone could cause her.
Once they were at their desks, Professor Snape spoke up, drawing everyone's attention.
"Today, we'll be brewing the Confusing Concoction, but first, can anyone tell me what it is?" His tone was softer, less stern, and less terrifying. Hermione knew then answer, but the urge to put her hand up, or blurt it out just wasn't there.
When Ron put his hand up, she was shocked, but the big shock was when Professor Snape allowed Ron to give the answer.
"The Confusing Concoction, also known as Confusing Draught, is a potion which causes confusion in the drinker." Ron said, giving the correct definition for the first time in the three years Hermione had known him.
Snape didn't show any emotion, but just after setting them on the task of brewing, he walked past them, murmuring, "Ten points to Gryffindor."
Hermione and Ron smiled for the rest of the day.
The first time Ron and Hermione visited his grave in Godric's Hollow, it was the last weekend of September, and they had acquired McGonagall's permission first. They had stopped breaking rules, and wanted to live their life in a way Harry would never get a chance to, and they couldn't do it while stuck in detentions.
McGonagall stood at the gates of the graveyard, leaving them to find Harry themselves.
She knew they needed to do it alone, but together.
Hermione found Harry first, and Ron caught up to her moments later. Hermione sunk to her knees, sobs escaping her lips. She brought her hands to her chest, and Ron knelt down beside her, silent tears leaving his eyes.
Harry James Potter
31/07/1980-30/08/1993
A Boy That Wasn't Heard
"Why'd you have to leave me?" Hermione sobbed, and Ron bowed his head in agreement. He drew her into his arms, and murmured words of comfort and support, not worried about anyone seeing.
He passed that the day he found out Harry was gone. Times to be embarrassed were now in the past, and everything was different.
The two people on the cold floor weren't children anymore, they had grown up, way too quick.
Two days after their first visit to Godric's Hollow, Draco Malfoy approached them after potions class. Recently, he had left them alone, and not even bothered tying anything with anyone. He had separated himself from his usual friends, and became more alone than ever.
"I would like to apologise to you both. I know I probably don't deserve this, but I'd like to try and be friends, and maybe, you could help me be a better person. Please?"
Hermione had looked at Ron for a long second, and smiled. She shook his offered hand, with the words, "Everyone deserves a second chance."
Malfoy raised and eyebrow at that statement, and Hermione chuckled adding, "Okay, maybe not everyone, but you do."
Things changed again after that. House equality started to make itself known, with Ron, Hermione and Draco setting the example older years should be showing. Draco took to sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, making fast friends with Neville and Ginny. There were moments he was tempted to insult them, but he stopped himself before he did, knowing it would be worth it in the end.
After a while, Hermione and Ron began joining the Slytherins for lunch, and Draco did everything to make them feel welcomed. It took a few days, but the other Slytherins started joining in with their conversations, and they also tried to be good people. They just wanted to break the stereotyping of their house.
Unfortunately, dinner time was strictly monitored, and houses were not allowed to be seated at the wrong tables. House unity was almost forbidden after the last class of the day, and people were eating, and retreating to their common rooms.
Hermione felt that it was wrong, and unfair. Although she knew that the dreams of everyone being friends with everyone else was a child's dream, but she knew it was wrong to try and prevent friends from sitting together, and being united the way the founders originally wanted.
She also knew Harry felt the same when he was alive, and that was why she was doing this.
It was for Harry.
The second time Hermione visited Harry, she was alone. It was Christmas Eve, and she just wanted to wish him a good one.
Sitting before his grave, she fiddled with the lily she had brought him. This time she didn't cry. It wasn't that she didn't miss him, she did. She missed him every day.
"I bet you are happy, Harry. You are now with your parents, the way it should have been in the beginning. Well, not dead, obviously, but you'd know what I mean. I miss you, y'know, and I think Ron does too." She stopped, noticing a black dog sat not very far from her. She wasn't scared of dogs, but she didn't particularly like them. She dismissed him, and continued talking.
"Everything has changed at Hogwarts. Draco is a changed person. People is opposite houses are no longer fighting, and we all see each other as equals. Well, most of us. There are a handful of students who aren't interested, like Pansy Parkinson. But that isn't important, not now, anyway."
The black dog had stood, and slowly moved towards her, keeping his head bowed in an act of submissiveness. She reached out a hand, and petted him gently. She sighed, and stood up, after laying the lily lovingly on the ground.
"This is all for you, Harry. Happy Christmas," She murmured, before turning and walking away from the graveyard.
It was many years on that equality mattered all over the wizarding world. When Voldemort came back, more than half of his original death eaters turned to the light, but spied for Dumbledore. Horcruxes were destroyed, and Sirius Black was found innocent. Hermione went on to be a famous witch for finally defeating Voldemort, and she smiled. When she was asked why she did it, she would smile, and murmur one name, a name that would be forgotten in years to come.
"Harry."
Harry was remembered by different people for different things, but never as just Harry, like he wanted. He was either remembered as The-Boy-Who-Lived, or The-Boy-Who-Was-Abused.
But when Hermione had her only child with Ron, she named him after her bestest friend in the world, and hoped that one day, he would understand why.
"Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full," Said a boy with brown hair and blue eyes, eager to make a friend.
"Of course," The boy by the window said, his brown eyes shining with the same eagerness.
"I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Weasley."
AN: What do you think? Please review.