This is Finally Goodbye
Hermione sat back down on the dark red Gryffindor couch and stared at the blazing fire in the hearth. She watched the red and gold flames dance, emitting some sparks. The couch creaked slightly and, turning to her side, she saw that Crookshanks had jumped on the couch. He snuggled to her.
"Hey boy," she said soothingly, carrying him onto her lap. He purred and affectionately pawed at her arm. "Are you sad, too?" Crookshanks merely nestled in her arms. She sighed. "I suppose not." She stroked his fur then looked at the fire once more. "Things have changed so much, Crookshanks," she went on quietly. "I don't know how it happened."
Suddenly Crookshanks lifted his head up and jumped off of her, scampering off across the room. Hermione watched as he buried his head in one of the nooks of the common room. She sighed and stood up, looking around. The common room had grown somewhat shabbier over the years. Some curtains had been tattered, probably from all the fights that had occurred over the years. Some of the seats had been ripped slightly. Tables had been vandalized with Parvati and Lavender were here with hearts all over it or Neville was a wanker You're the wanker, Fred!. The carpet had become almost grayish compared to the supposedly red color that it originally had.
She looked at the walls. There were framed group photographs of Gryffindor students throughout the years. There was Dean and Seamus, the best of friends, their arms around each other's shoulders, laughing. There was Colin and Nigel Creevey, the annoying but very helpful twin brothers. There was Lavender and Parvati, giggling like they usually did. There was Fred, George, Lee Jordan and a couple of their other friends, throwing snowballs at one another. There was the Gryffindor Quidditch team when she was in 5th year. She smiled a little as she watched photo-Harry scowl. It was just about the time when he was taken off the team. He hadn't wanted to be a part of the picture taking, but the team wouldn't have any of it. They wanted him to be in the photo. Her eyes then found the photo of her, Harry and Ron. Her eyes misted as she remembered having the photo taken of them. They were in their sixth year, on their way to Hogsmeade. Ginny had insisted on photographing them just for the sake of it.
It was the last photo she and Harry ever had with Ron.
Ron was dead. He was killed during the war when he was trying to help Harry fight off the Deatheaters so that Harry could get to Voldemort.
She watched Ron's photo self. He was smiling and laughing. He looked happy. She hoped he was happy wherever he was. She looked away and bowed her head a bit, closing her eyes to fight back tears. There was so much she had wanted to experience with him. They had plans after Hogwarts, him, her and Harry. They planned to see the world together before they went looking for jobs. They deliberately intended to put off working for a while so that they could just enjoy each other's company and not worry about anything else. She remembered Harry and Ron pleading to her to just agree and go with them. She had wanted to start working for the ministry at once as soon as the summer after seventh year began. But they managed to persuade her eventually. Ron never let her forget about their plans. He kept on babbling about Paris and China and Brazil. There were so many places he wanted to go to. Harry, of course, would join his tirade once Ron got started. And she would just roll her eyes at them. But thinking about that now, she wished more than ever that they could continue on with that adventure. But how could they? How could they go on without Ron? She knew for certain that Harry wouldn't want to go on with it without his guy best friend by his side. She wasn't sure she wanted to go without him as well.
The funeral was simple. Though a lot of people had attended, it was still a simple ceremony. Just like Ron would have wanted it. He never really wanted people fussing over him and she was sure that he wouldn't have wanted people to fuss over his death, much less his funeral.
Mrs. Weasley was inconsolable. Ron was her youngest and, probably, most caring son. He was most visible among the brothers. He was always around for his mother. Ginny, meanwhile, never cried. She stood there and braved the service without shedding a single tear. Harry stood by her side, his arm around her the entire time. But he couldn't escape tears. He cried and mourned over the loss of a best friend and a brother. Ron was his family. And to lose family all over again was always painful for Harry. She had, of course, cried throughout the whole service. There wasn't anything she could do to hold back her own tears. She was proud of Ginny for being strong, but she couldn't be strong like her. She knew she should be because Ron wouldn't want to see her crying.
She wiped her tears with her fingers as she stepped away from the photographs, willing herself some control. No amount of crying would ever bring Ron back. She grimaced at this thought and shook her head.
She took a deep breath and looked around the common room once more. "So this is it," she spoke aloud. "This is finally goodbye."
As she spoke the words, she knew she wouldn't be able to say goodbye properly. So many things had happened that she couldn't imagine how she would have gone through all of them if Ron and Harry weren't by her side. It amazed her that she had gone through Ron's death without Harry by her side. After Ron had died, Harry had changed. He never said much to anyone anymore. He never even talked to her. They went through their seventh year as though they weren't best friends, like they were strangers. This had hurt her deeply, but she wanted to respect Harry's space. She knew he was hurting so badly and didn't want to pry into his life and into his mourning. But she wished that that hadn't happened. It had been hard enough to lose Ron. Losing Harry, too, doubled her pain.
The common room portrait opened.
"Hermione," a deep, gentle voice said, "are you ready to go?"
She turned around. "Yeah," she answered. "I was just going out."
"Have you been crying?"
"No," she lied. She walked to the side of the couch and bent over to take her bag. She turned and saw her cat still at the same nook. "Crookshanks," she called. "Come on, boy." She walked towards the portrait hole.
"Harry's waiting for you down in the great hall."
She stopped walking and turned around. "Harry? I thought he had left already."
"No. He wanted to leave with you."
"Oh." This was the most pleasing news she's heard in weeks. She turned to go but stopped again. "Aren't you coming?"
"I think you and Harry should talk. I'll see you at the station."
She walked back towards him, rolling her eyes. She took his hand. "Don't be silly, Draco. Harry would want you to be there. He'd want to talk to you, too."
Draco smiled a little. One of his rare smiles. She was probably the only person whom he actually smiled at. He had fought alongside Harry during the war. After he fled from the castle, the night Dumbledore died, he and Snape had gone straight to Sirius' house for refuge. And Draco had sworn never to fight against them. He had been there for her all those times she needed someone to turn to, when she couldn't handle Ron being gone or Harry being so cold. He was the person who listened and understood everything she admitted to him throughout their seventh year. She didn't know what would've happened to her if it wasn't for him. He took care of her and made sure she went on with her life. He was one of the very few reasons she still smiled.
"Alright," he said, squeezing her hand. "Are you ready?"
She looked around once more, breathing deeply, then looked back at him. She nodded. "I think I am now," she said softly.
"It'll be okay, you know," he told her soothingly as they walked out of the portrait hole. He offered her a comforting smile.
And as they went down to the great hall and was met by the sight of Harry approaching them, a small smile on her face, she knew that things will indeed be okay.