Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter...I own only the plot
Fallen Angels
The sky stretched to a never ending point, and the grass blared a vibrant green. He leaned against a tree, watching the clouds drift lazily across the blue hue. He was aware that he sat in a graveyard, but it was peaceful and he lowered his eyes to inspect the grass.
He looked up and for a brief second, his eyes fell on a young woman, kneeling on the ground. She grasped a bouquet of deep red roses in one hand, and her white skirt splayed neatly out around her knees, creating a blanket. Her face was bound between shadows, making her impossible to read. For a moment, he watched as the sun got caught in her brown hair, rays of sunlight were tangled every which way. Time slowed as he looked up once more, gasping slightly as he saw a small beam of light encircle her head. He wasn't sure if believed in angels, or God for that matter, but he could not deny the halo that shone in front of him.
He sat against the tree, enraptured by the halo that seemed to float inches above her head, and watched as the sunlight finally hit her face after battling with the shadows for the right. Her face shone, fresh with tears, and she bowed her head before placing the flowers on the grave that she knelt before. He rose from the ground, and made his way toward her, stopping behind the grave and studying the golden halo that shimmered about her hair. She spoke quietly then, after a moment, and her words twinkled like bells as they rang through the graveyard.
"Remember that night, in the common room? I was helping you study for a potions test, and you had been swearing up a storm."
"I can't believe that git! Giving us a test after just 3 days! 3 days! That prat!" He slammed his fist into his book, creating a loud noise.
"Shh, would you quiet down. I mean, really, this is a review. And don't swear, it's impolite." Hermione smiled slightly as she turned the page of her book. "Now, back to business. What ingredients do you need to create a simple wolfsbane potion?"
She sat, staring at him, waiting for his answer, but he found himself enthralled by the light from the window that danced above her head.
"Are you even listening to me?"
He shook his head, breaking out of his reverie. "I'm sorry Hermione." He smiled in apology, and then once again, got lost in light skipping above her head.
"Would you please listen to me?" She moved to get up from the couch, and pack up her belongings, but then he spoke, startling her.
"You're an angel, you know that?"
She turned to look at him. "What?"
"The way the light dances above your head, it's like you're an angel."
She giggled nervously. "It's just light, it means nothing."
He spoke seriously then, looking into her eyes. "No, you're a good person. A beautiful person. You're always there for people."
Hermione just smiled slightly, touched by the compliment. "I don't know what to say."
"You deserve that halo."
"You told me that I was an angel, complete with a halo." He watched as a tear escaped down her cheek. "I never forgot that conversation about angels and halos, and I don't think I ever will." She lowered her head, and sobbed quietly into her arms, the halo never leaving her head.
He didn't quite understand halos and angels. But he loved the way the light danced about her head, grasping dust particles and reflecting the sun at the same time. He loved the way the halo lit up her face, showing freckles on her nose and rose petals in her cheeks. What he loved the most, though, was when no light shone and he could still see the halo floating, almost invisibly, above her head.
He had gotten to rely on her halo. He had gotten to rely on her, his angel. During the war, he came to believe that the halo meant something bigger.
Hermione said a spell, and a jet of red light flew across the meadow. She ran toward him; as he lay on the ground, blood everywhere.
"Are you alright? Oh please say something." The halo skipped lightly in the air above her head, and he wondered if he was imagining it.
"You have your halo again."
She smiled through her worried tears. "Don't say that, just tell me you're alright."
He smiled faintly, and looked into her eyes. "Hermione, you have to go help the others, you have to help Harry."
Her eyes flashed in anger. "I have to help you! I won't leave you here."
He gently stroked her cheek, using all his energy to remember her halo. "You have to help Harry."
She grabbed his hand. "We have to go. You need to go to St. Mungos."
He squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, love. I don't think I'm going anywhere."
"No! Don't you dare say that! I need you, you can't leave me alone."
He closed his eyes, envisioning her beautiful face, her wonderful eyes, and her enrapturing halo. Then he pulled her face down to his, and kissed her gently, leaving a trail of tears in his wake. "I'm sorry, Hermione. But others need you and your halo."
She pounded the ground with a fist. "This is nonsense! I don't have a halo!"
He grinned slightly, before closing his eyes and speaking quietly. "You're an angel, darling. Of course you have a halo."
The last thing he saw before his world went dark was that striking halo drifting lazily above her beautiful head.
It was the last thing he thought he would ever see, but now here it was again. That halo, hovering an inch or two above her hair, a crown at its best.
She stopped crying, and was wiping her eyes. She spoke one last time, softly, letting her voice ring in the graveyard. "I love you and don't you ever forget it."
She rose slowly, letting her skirt fall at her knees, her halo shivering slightly, but shinning in the morning air. She leaned slightly forward, toward the gravestone, and graced it with a single kiss. Reading the gravestone one last time, she turned to leave.
"Ronald Weasely. May angels guide your fall."
It's hard, I guess, when people expect so much of you. They want you to be perfect, to be amazing, to save the world in a single leap. And, in a way, you want all that too. You want to see the appreciation, the gleam of happiness, the twinkle of pride in their eyes because you live for that hug, that human contact that comes after. You live for the adrenaline, the rush, the power you feel after you've completed something.
But just as you live for that rush, and that appreciation, you dread that disappointment, that small seed of doubt someone plants in your mind. It's hard to watch as the person expresses their disappointment and sadness in you. But you take that risk, because of the rush, the happiness, the twinkle. I guess that's what it all comes down to.
I always thought that I had to be perfect, that I couldn't make mistakes. I thought the devil resided in late homework, dwelled in broken rules, and struck you down if you missed curfew. I lived by the rules. I thought that perfection was the meaning of life. But someone else always has a say in it. And, as usual, he always managed to prove me wrong.
He kept telling me that I needed to lighten up, that one missed assignment, or one less than perfect grade wouldn't kill me. He said it would only prove that I was human. But I needed perfect grades. It was my drug, my addiction. All I needed to survive life was perfection.
And as usual, he always managed to prove me wrong.
I was helping him study for a potions test one night in the common room.
"I can't believe that git! Giving us a test after just 3 days! 3 days! That prat!" He slammed his fist into his book, creating a loud noise.
"Shh, would you quiet down. I mean, this is just a review. And don't swear, its impolite." Hermione smiled slightly, amused by his reaction to the potions test. It was only review, nothing they didn't already know. It was like basic cooking with some extra little things to remember. Honestly, it wasn't that hard. She turned to the next page, and asked another question. "Now back to business. What ingredients do you need to create a simple wolfsbane potion?"
She sat there, staring at him, but it seemed he was engrossed with the light somewhere above her head. She sat in front of a window, turned towards him. His eyes danced as they followed what seemed to her as small particles floating somewhere above her head. She smiled a little, noticing how he wrinkled his nose in concentration.
Amused, she asked, "Are you even listening to me?"
She watched him shake his head, and look at her again. "I'm sorry Hermione." He said softly, and then once again, was lost in whatever was floating above her head, smiling as he did so.
She made a move to gather things, finding his observation rather boring. "Would you please listen to me?" She didn't expect him to answer, thinking that he was completely lost with whatever the light was doing, but when he answered, she jumped slightly, startled.
"You're an angel, you know that?"
She turned toward him, confused. "What?" He wasn't even paying attention to her, the least he could do was try and make sense.
Before she could repeat her question, he spoke again. "The way the light dances about your head, it's like you're an angel."
She giggled nervously. What else was she supposed to do? She rarely received compliments, and when she did, they were along the lines of "God, you read a lot," or "Do you ever stop studying?" She wasn't sure if they were compliments, but to her, they meant she was close to perfection. She looked at him once more, loving the way his eyes held a certain gleam. "It's just light, it means nothing."
He spoke with a serious tone then, looking straight into her eyes, avoiding the halo he claimed resided over her head. "No, you're a good person, a beautiful person. You're always there for people."
She was touched, to say the least. No one ever said things like that to her. "I don't know what to say," she managed to stammer out.
"You deserve that halo."
After that, he was always saying things like that. I didn't quite understand it. I never really understood how he could see in me what I never saw. He was always telling me things about myself that were completely true, although I had never seen them. I guess that's what I loved about him most; the way he could surprise me in the area I thought I knew the most about: myself.
I never really believed in angels or halos. Not the way some people did. I never took the time to believe in them. I was so caught up in other stuff for other people, I barely had time for myself. But helping people is what I love most. It gives me a sense of purpose, I guess you could say.
He always managed to surprise me, doing things I would never even think of. Then one day, he gave me the biggest surprise I've ever gotten: he taught me to believe.
"Hermione, want to take a walk on the grounds? It's amazing outside!" He reached for her hand, pulling her out of the common room.
"I would love too, but I really need to study for potions, and then Harry asked for help in –" She spoke quickly, ticking off the things to do in her head.
He cut her off, shaking his head and saying, "You really ought to get out more."
She stopped then, realizing he was right, he was almost always right, no matter how dense he got. Still, protesting was in her blood, so she went on. "But its almost curfew!"
He laughed quietly. "Then I'm lucky I have you, Ms. Prefect!"
She pouted for a few moments, but then followed him down the corridor, to the grounds. The moon peeked through the clouds, sending a ray of ghostly sunlight to illuminate the forest, and the lake. Hermione took in a deep breath, enthralled by the sight.
Ron, however, had turned toward Hermione, gazing at her head in wonder when the clouds had finally let go of the moon. She turned away from him, and mumbled, "What are you looking at?"
He took a sharp intake of breath, and continued to gaze at her head. "Your halo, it's…it's beautiful."
Hermione turned towards him then, ready to explain that she didn't have a halo, because she wasn't an angel. But as her gaze fell on Ron, she gasped, and grabbed onto the railing for support.
"What?" He looked alarmed.
The moonlight fell onto his face, giving him an absolutely heavenly look. The rays got caught in his hair, placing strips of striking gray everywhere.
She gasped slightly again, trying to regain her breath and he steadied her with his hand. "Are you alright?"
The way the moonlight got tangled in his fiery red hair, or the way his face absolutely shone with goodness was not making Hermione gasp for air. As her eyes traveled to the air above his head, she noticed a small halo shimmering in the night air.