Disclaimer: I must not tell lies! I'm not J.K. Rowling, and I do not own any part of Harry Potter.
Ron Weasley has been deluding himself. He thinks that he doesn't love me anymore. But I know better. He just doesn't remember how much I mean to him.
I'm not saying that because I'm jealous of Lavender Brown, who Ron starting dating again when the two of us drifted apart a few years after the battle of Hogwarts. I've been Ron's friend for a long time now. I can tell he still cares about me, whether he wants to admit it or not.
And I still care about him, too. I was crushed when Ron and I, for lack of a better word, broke up with each other. But that's not quite right. It wasn't a breakup. We weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. We were something special, something that doesn't have a name.
I haven't forgotten the way Ron made me feel, and I refuse to believe that he doesn't recall it somewhere in the back of his mind. Our relationship was truly magical, and I'm not talking about charms or potions here. This type of magic can't be made with an incantation or a wave of a wand. It can't be brewed in a cauldron or translated from ancient runes. It can only be created when two people share a bond so powerful it can't be destroyed.
Our connection hasn't been broken, I'm sure of it. It's only been slightly weakened. That's why I'm determined to strengthen it and bring it back to its full glory. Because something this extraordinary doesn't deserve to be ignored.
I hesitated at the door to the Hogwarts entrance hall. Part of me was ready to go in, but the other part was screaming at me to stop and go home. I'd asked Ron to meet me here for something important, and I didn't think I'd be able to bear it if he didn't show up.
Finally, I grasped the door handle with a trembling hand and pulled. I couldn't turn back now. I told myself that not knowing if he came would be worse than opening the door and finding the entrance hall empty.
The silence that greeted me when I entered the hall was eerie and somewhat disconcerting. The last time I'd been at Hogwarts was when I'd returned for my seventh year, and I was used to the hall being full of students heading to the Great Hall for a meal or rushing to their next class.
However, all my worries vanished in an instant when I spotted him. Tall, lean, and with hair redder than a tomato, he was exactly as I remembered him. I couldn't believe how much time had passed since we'd been with each other.
Ron caught sight of me a second after I saw him. Suddenly, I panicked, my anxiety rushing back. What would I say to him? How would I act around him?
Ron quickly approached me. I desperately tried to think of something to say, but all I could come up with was, "Hi, Ron." The words came out high-pitched and echoed around the room.
"Hello, Hermione," Ron said. He put his hands in his pockets and seemed to be looking everywhere but at me.
I cleared my throat uncomfortably. "Shall we?" I asked.
"Lead the way," Ron replied.
He walked silently behind me as I took him through corridors and up staircases. Maybe this was a bad idea, I thought to myself. I kept glancing back at him, as though he would decide to stop following me and leave.
To my relief, Ron stayed with me until we reached our destination. I could tell that his interest was aroused when he realized where we were.
"Dumbledore's office?" he said in surprise. I nodded and opened the door to go inside, beckoning for him to come along.
"What are we doing?" Ron wanted to know. I didn't answer right away; I was beginning to search the office. If Harry was correct, the object I was looking for should be –
"Here," I breathed. I lifted a shallow basin full of a swirling substance and presented it to Ron. "This is a Pensieve. Memories can be placed and stored in the Pensieve and then viewed again later. I have a few memories I want to share with you today."
Something in Ron's expression changed. He understood me. He knew that I wanted – no, that I needed him. But he wasn't ready to come back to me yet. I could only hope that what I was about to show him would change his mind.
I removed my wand from my pocket and touched the tip to my temple, drawing out a tangle of thin, silvery threads which I dropped into the Pensieve. Tentatively, I reached out to wrap my fingers around Ron's wrist. Closing my eyes, I dipped my head in the basin, plunging us into the unknown.
I stood frozen against the wall of the bathroom, gazing in horror at the giant mountain troll looming over me. Harry and Ron's attempts to confuse it were brave but ineffective: the troll turned its attention to Ron and started toward him.
Not ready to give up, Harry ran at the troll and threw his arms around its neck. His wand got stuck in the troll's nostril in the process, angering it even further. At a loss for what to do, Ron raised his wand and cried, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The club the troll was carrying flew into the air and soon fell back onto the monster's head, causing it to fall to the ground, unconscious. I could hardly believe what had just happened. Ron Weasley, who had called me a nightmare that same day, had saved me from almost certain death.
The scene melted into the Hogwarts Quidditch field, where the Gryffindor players, Ron, and I were glaring at Draco Malfoy as he bragged about the new brooms his father had bought the Slytherins. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," I shot at him. "They got in on pure talent."
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Malfoy said with contempt.
Immediately almost all the Gryffindors were bursting with rage; Fred and George Weasley nearly jumped on Malfoy. In the midst of all the chaos, Ron aimed his wand at Draco and shouted, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!"
There was a deafening bang and a stream of bright green light hit Ron right in the stomach. "Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" I asked as he collapsed on the grass.
Ron proceeded to spew out not words, but a handful of slimy slugs. Despite my disgust, I couldn't help admiring Ron for standing up for me, even if it meant vomiting up slugs. It was the first of many times he would defend me against bullies like Malfoy.
I glanced at Ron as we shifted into the next memory. He was staring, transfixed, at the events unfolding before him. His face was blank and unreadable, unnerving me a bit. I could always tell what he was thinking, and the fact that I couldn't scared me.
We were now inside the Great Hall, which had been transformed into a winter wonderland for the Yule Ball. I smiled as I danced with Viktor Krum, but my eyes kept straying to the people around us.
"Who are you looking for?" Viktor asked me.
"No one," I said, blushing in embarrassment. "I'm just admiring the decorations." In reality, though, I had been trying to catch a glimpse of Ron. I spent that whole night wishing I was attending the ball with him instead of Viktor, a fact that became evident when I argued with Ron later.
"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" I shouted at him as we stood in the common room.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" Ron yelled.
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!" I quickly turned and left before I could start crying in front of everyone. I tried to convince myself that I hated Ron. I absolutely despised him. But deep down I knew that wasn't true. I hoped Ron realized that after reliving this memory.
The setting changed once more, and we stood outside Hogwarts where Dumbledore's funeral had been held. The service had recently concluded, and I found that I couldn't contain my sobs at the loss of our headmaster. I turned to Ron, who held out his arms, sending me a silent invitation.
I accepted gratefully, letting Ron envelop me in a comforting embrace, and rested my head on his shoulder as the tears began to flow. I could feel his own tears fall onto my hair as he stroked it soothingly.
Another memory followed soon after this one. I was sitting in a chair in the tent that had been our home for several months during what should have been our seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Ron was explaining to me and Harry how he had found us again using the Deluminator.
"It doesn't just turn the lights on and off," he was explaining. "I don't know how it works or why it happened then and not any other time, because I've been wanting to come back ever since I left. But I was listening to the radio really early on Christmas morning and I heard… I heard you."
His eyes connected with mine as he spoke, but I still didn't quite understand. "You heard me on the radio?" I asked.
"No, I heard you coming out of my pocket. Your voice came out of this." He indicated the Deluminator.
"And what exactly did I say?" I didn't want to admit it, but my curiosity was piqued.
"My name. 'Ron.' And you said… something about a wand…"
That was the first time Ron's name had been spoken since he had left. I continued to listen to his tale, my mind racing. In a way, I had been the one to bring Ron back to us. Would I be able to do it a second time?
I knew what the next memory was, and I watched Ron to see what his reaction would be. This was the only memory I was showing him that he hadn't witnessed – at least not directly.
It was obvious he figured out right away where we were: Malfoy Manor. The Malfoys observed the incident apprehensively as Bellatrix Lestrange stood over me.
"I'm going to ask you again!" she said. "Where did you get this sword? Where?"
"We found it – we found it – PLEASE!" I screamed as Bellatrix cursed me, the unbearable pain flooding my body. Ron shut his eyes and pressed his hands over his ears, apparently trying to block out the horrors in front of him.
"We didn't steal the sword," I said hoarsely once Bellatrix had lifted the curse.
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!" Bellatrix cast the Cruciatus Curse again and I screamed once more, my cries surprisingly strong for someone who felt so weak.
"HERMIONE!" Ron's voice floated into my ears from down in the cellar. He still wasn't looking or listening. I had a feeling this memory would be difficult for him to see, but it was integral to our story. Ron calling out for me had been the only thing giving me the courage to fight back against Bellatrix's spells. If it wasn't for him, I might not be standing here today.
We finally entered my last memory. Ron opened his eyes and lowered his hands. We were inside a much different Hogwarts than we'd seen before. Debris was scattered everywhere, and people were running frantically through the corridors.
"Hang on a moment!" Ron said suddenly. "We've forgotten someone!"
"Who?" I asked.
"The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"
"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" Harry suggested.
"No, I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want any more Dobbies, do we? We can't order them to die for us."
I loved him. I couldn't possibly deny it any longer. My feelings for Ron had been gradually growing ever since I first met him. And if either of us died in the battle before I got to tell him, well… I couldn't let that happen.
The basilisk fangs in my arms tumbled to the ground as I ran to Ron, launched myself at him, and kissed him on the mouth. I was elated when he released his burden in favor of wrapping his arms around me and kissing me back. My feet left the ground as I reveled in the passionate kiss.
The memory lasted a few seconds longer, and then Ron and I began to emerge from the Pensieve, rising up until our feet touched the ground in Dumbledore's office.
Ron turned to me and took both of my hands in his. He stared at me with such intensity I feared I would drown in his piercing blue eyes.
"You started to feel it again, too?" he said softly.
"I never stopped," I whispered.
Ron leaned toward me and touched his lips to mine. I responded immediately, pulling him closer to me. And as the kiss deepened, I knew without a doubt that the indescribable magic we'd shared before had been restored.