DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, or time.
All the Time in the World.
People are brought together and lives are shattered during the first 24 hours after the war. :Very long oneshot RHr HG and others postDH:
Complete list of ships: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Bill/Fleur and slight Neville/Luna.
PART ONE: Dawn to Early Afternoon
dawn
"You reckon he's ok?"
Ron glanced down at Hermione with an incredulous look. Seriously, for the smartest girl he thought he'd ever met, he couldn't quite believe that she had even asked that question.
"Seriously?" he said.
Hermione looked up at him. "Well, all right, never mind," she said, hastily. "I suppose none of us are ok."
She was staring out over the Great Hall, though Ron still had his eyes firmly glued to his extremely scuffed, torn and dirty shoes. Hundreds of people were cheering, screaming, crying as they all tried to hug Harry at once, but Ron didn't see how that could quite cover up the fact that the entire castle was in ruins. There was a huge hole in one of the walls of the hall, allowing Grawp to stick his head through with a toothy grin and Ron was pretty sure that there were more areas stained red with blood than there was clean grey.
The two of them had managed to get their own hugs in with Harry – first ones to reach him, in fact – but now they were just faces, pushed to the back of the crowd since they'd had their turn. The fact that they had been best friends for almost seven years apparently didn't occur to anyone. It was simply crazy, manic almost, to think that the impossible had been done and that Harry had done it –
But those were probably thoughts best left for some other time. Ron was kinda ok with being shoved to the side for now. Besides, he had Hermione with him.
"C'mon," he heard her murmur gently, though how over the screaming, he had no idea. He felt a sudden thrill when she curled her hand in his, tugging; he let himself get pulled along until together, they both collapsed onto one of the house table benches. He didn't even know which house it was from. He supposed it hardly mattered now, right?
"… so did that actually just happen?" she asked eventually, turning to face him suddenly and causing him to blink and pretend he totally hadn't been staring at her.
"What, the whole wand-exchanging-You-Know-Who dying thing? Or the whole bloody day we've had?" he asked.
Hermione let out a sound which may have even been a snigger. "All of it, I guess," she said. "Seriously, did we honestly just go through all that? Because even though I've got too many bruises to count, I think I've sprained my ankle and I'm so tired that I think I could pass out … I still feel like laughing."
Ron couldn't help it; he grinned at the look on her face. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, we did do all that. And I know it sounds crazy, but I think it might all be over …"
Hermione actually smiled – a proper smile that he didn't think he'd really seen since before Dumbledore died – and before he knew it, both of them were laughing together, laughing so hard that tears came to his eyes and he hung onto her sleeve to keep himself upright, Hermione gasping for breath. Eventually, she flung herself forwards and threw her arms around him tightly, still giggling into his chest.
"We made it," she practically whispered since her voice had gone raspy from her hysterics. "Ron … I can't even begin to describe how happy I am that you're alive."
Blimey – he had to blink back tears as he pressed his face into her hair.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I know."
early morning
"Have you heard?" Neville Longbottom's excited call chimed in over all the other voices in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall turned and saw what once was her young student, still with that boyish grin … only now, he was covered in blood, limping slightly and still carrying the Sword of Gryffindor. "There's news coming in from all over the country!"
"Anything worth reporting?" the Professor asked, holding herself up as strongly as she could with what could only be a broken rib or two.
"Tonnes of people have apparently come out of trances," Neville continued, enthusiastically. "Imperius curse, I'll bet you! And they've made Kingsley Acting Minister until they can find someone willing to take the job."
"Well, good luck to them," Professor McGonagall said. "That Ministry is going to have one hell of a job fixing our world."
Neville blinked slightly at her informal tone and Professor McGonagall almost rolled her eyes. It did always amuse her when she could surprise her students, especially when they least expected it.
"Even I know when a job is too big, Mr Longbottom," she said.
Neville grinned. "Right, Professor. So what do we do now?"
"I suppose the only thing we can do – start cleaning."
"Merlin. It'll be just like detention," Neville commented.
"Yes, quite," Professor McGonagall agreed. "Only on a much larger and more gruesome scale. Now, as for that sword–" She cut herself off as she had reached out for said sword; however, she'd ended up gasping in pain when her side suddenly felt like it would split in two.
"Oh my god, Professor! You're hurt!" Neville hurried forward to help her remain upright. "Go see Madam Pomfrey and don't worry, you just tell me what needs doing and I'll do it!"
"Oh, there are more injuries Madam Pomfrey is tending to that are far worse than mine," Professor McGonagall huffed and they both glanced over to see the truth, since Madam Pomfrey certainly hadn't stopped to cheer and celebrate once the battle had been won. In fact, she was currently bent over a poor student, who appeared to have lost too much blood. She was frantically trying to save the student, yelling at the little second-year who was assisting her.
"Let me at least help you sit down," Neville insisted, frowning and she let him lead her over to one of the house benches. "Seriously, Professor. Just tell me whatever needs doing. I can handle it."
Professor McGonagall peered up at her student. Not once over seven years had she quite believed that Neville Longbottom would ever make a decent wizard. It was something that she was starting to abhor about herself. Over the past few months, she'd been proved utterly wrong time and time again until now, when not a nervous little boy, but a confident young man, stood in front of her with that determined expression.
"I know you can, Neville," she said, firmly. "I know you can do anything."
Neville grinned. The use of his first name hadn't gone unnoticed. "Thanks, Professor."
early morning
Harry was pretty sure that he had been congratulated by every single person in the bloody castle. Not that he wasn't grateful, but all he wanted in the world right now was a sandwich, a good ten hours sleep and perhaps a hug from Ginny (not necessarily in that order).
He'd spotted Ron and Hermione sitting together on one of the house benches, but considering all that had happened between them the last 24 hours, he wasn't so sure that he wanted to interrupt them. They were sort of awkwardly too close, with Hermione's curled up legs overlapping his and shoulders pressed together. Harry leaned against another one of the tables, just watching them for a moment with a slight smile. Despite the tentative way that they seemed to speak, hands sort-of-but-not-quite touching and tear stains creating marks down their gritty faces, Harry was fairly certain that they'd never looked happier.
He was just so tired. After everything that had happened, all he wanted was to go to bed and forget. Perhaps dream about other things. Dream about Ginny. And maybe treacle tart. His body was just completely wiped and so exhausted, he felt like he could fall asleep standing up, and it didn't help that every five seconds, another person would come and thank him or congratulate him.
If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he'd admit that the only reason he was willing to sleep (because he was pretty sure that the nightmares would be too much to handle) was because anything he saw when he closed his eyes had to be better than what he saw when they were currently open.
Bodies were still strewn everywhere throughout the Great Hall, people crying over them, begging siblings, friends and enemies to wake up. Harry was sure he'd never used the term 'heart-breaking' before in his life, but that seem to be the only phrase that fit. However, every now and then, he'd see someone grin, someone call out to their friend, hug in celebration because yes, Voldemort was actually dead! And everyone had to say thank you to Harry Potter.
He'd seen enough death for one day. He'd seen enough smiles. He just wanted to forget.
"Harry Potter?"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Harry found himself yelling, turning to face whoever the hell it was wanting his attention this time. However, he found himself suddenly yelling at a little girl who could have only been a first-year. "Oh … I'm sorry. Yeah?"
"I …" The girl shuffled her feet, blond pigtails in disarray as she nursed what was clearly a broken arm. "I just wanted to say thanks. For y'know, saving the world."
Harry was silent for a long moment before saying, "You're welcome. What's your name?"
"Gracie," she said. "Gracie Lyall."
Harry smiled sadly at her. "Gracie Lyall, I'm glad you survived. Are you by yourself?"
Gracie's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "My big sister was fighting, so I snuck back to help her," she said. "B-but s-she died and I don't know where sh-she is … none of my friends c-came back with m-me except for my friend L-Liam, but I dunno where to f-find him, he m-might be d-dead, too …"
Harry had barely watched her standing there crying in front of him for maybe two seconds before he was suddenly bending down to her level. He raised a hand and gently wiped her tears away. "I'm so sorry to hear about your sister," he said, honestly. "I'll help you find your friend, yeah?"
Gracie's eyes went wide. "Really?" she asked.
"Of course," Harry said, shrugging.
Sleep, a sandwich and Ginny would have to wait a few moments.
mid-morning
"Ooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!"
"What?" Seamus glanced around, confused as Dean and Neville exchanged looks. Luna was pointing excitedly out a window, but Neville couldn't see anything at all.
He decided to humour her and said, "Luna, I don't think my eyesight's as good as yours, I don't see it …"
"Oh, you won't," Luna said, cheerfully. "It only shows itself to true believers. They say Blibbering Humdingers get attached to those who hold the true ability to be particularly perceptive," She peered closely into Neville's eyes, making him slightly uncomfortable, if truth be told. "I think you may be able to see them one day," she said, simply.
"Luna, you really scare me sometimes."
"I've been told that," she said, smiling.
Dean and Seamus were both snorting with laughter at Luna, relaxing back on the bench they were sitting on. Both Neville and Luna had joined them on the floor in front, the Sword of Gryffindor only a few inches from Neville's hand. He didn't really want to part with it yet, despite him feeling overwhelmed by all the attention he got for it. Really, all he did was behead a snake …
Suddenly, Professor McGonagall came bustling up to their little group. "Have any of you seen Potter?" she asked and they all exchanged shrugs and shakes of their heads. "We've got a slight problem and I thought it prudent to warn him."
"What's going on?" Neville asked immediately, already half standing up.
Professor McGonagall gave an exasperated sigh; it was so normal, he almost thought they could have been back in Transfiguration class. "The press are here," she said in a very much disgusted tone. "Journalists from every newspaper imaginable from every country you can think of. I've banned them from the grounds, but that won't stop them from hounding anyone who tries to get to Hogsmeade to Disapparate."
"As soon as we see Harry, we'll let him know," Neville said, firmly.
"Why don't you ask Ron and Hermione? They'll know–" Dean cut himself off as he had begun to gesture over to where they had all last seen the two. They were now nowhere to be found.
"I don't even want to think about where those two might have gone …" Seamus muttered.
While Professor McGonagall gave him a reproachful look, Luna spoke up. "Professor, I think you might find that Harry does not want to be disturbed at the moment," she said, calmly. "I think it is best that we wait until he's ready."
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very well," she said, before turning and leaving them. She manoeuvred her way through the emotional crowd of people that Neville wasn't sure would ever calm down. There was a girl no older than fifteen, crying and hugging the lifeless body of what appeared to be her brother. A mother stormed in, apparently having heard about what happened through the papers which were just starting to flood with news, and yelling at her two children for not evacuating. There was a group of about six friends who all just stood silently, staring at what was apparently nothing, their white hands as they held onto each other being the only indicator that they were still thinking. On the other side of the hall, two girls caught sight of each other before screaming and suddenly launching themselves into each other's arms. With a pang, Neville caught sight of the body of a Ravenclaw he recognised from his year, and not much further way were two little kids, no older than eleven, crying and hugging each other desperately over a dead body, the boy clutching the girls blond pigtails.
It was so much that it was starting to become overwhelming, so he turned back to the others to find Dean and Seamus locked in a very in-depth discussion about who had managed to kill the most Death Eaters and Luna, sitting there next to him, was watching him.
He gave a little jump and felt his insides jolt. He wondered if he'd ever feel faintly normal after all this. "Luna?"
"Your face," she said, bluntly. "You don't like seeing all this."
"Kind of obvious, I think."
Luna thought for a moment. "Neville, we needed people like you," she said. "The DA never would have survived. We never would have gotten through the war if it weren't for you."
Neville felt himself blush and he stared at his hands where they rested on his knees. "It wasn't all me," he mumbled. "You and Ginny helped a lot."
"You were our leader," Luna said. "You gave us hope. Just like Harry gave us hope."
"Over half the DA still died, though."
Luna nodded, silent tears in her eyes, which he didn't quite expect. He'd always been under the impression that nothing much phased Luna. "We expected that," was all she said. "But Neville … you saved us."
Neville didn't think he could answer. Luna didn't need one. She just reached out and took his hand tightly, lacing their fingers together until Neville was certain that neither of them would ever let go.
They just sat there together for a long time, listening to Dean and Seamus talk and smiling and nodding to those who came to thank Neville for being so brave. It wasn't until it was almost mid-morning, and Professor McGonagall was calling for attention so that she could address the crowd of people, when Luna moved.
"Come on," she said, shifting to her knees to stand. "The castle needs us to fix it, I think. The Blibbering Humdingers won't help us – they hate housework of any kind."
"I'm sure they do," Neville grinned and his smile grew wider as Luna leaned in and kissed a quick peck to his lips before getting up and heading off through the crowd, joining Ginny as Professor McGonagall began speaking. Neville just sat there, staring after her.
"Oh, get up, mate," Seamus said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed Neville's arm and heaved him off the ground. "Don't you dare start acting like Ron and Hermione – I don't think I could stand another lot of them!"
mid-morning
Ginny didn't realise her body could survive this much without breaking down. It had become almost a game when she was younger, to not cry, since crying would only give her brothers the satisfaction that they had got to her.
Now … well. She was Ginny Weasley. Ginny Weasley does not cry!
She wouldn't. She refused.
She had been in her mother's arms, just staring at Fred's face, for the past hour or so. Harry had seemingly disappeared and conveniently, Ron and Hermione also. Everyone else in her family had paired off together; Bill and Fleur, who were a few feet away with their arms around each other; Charlie and Percy, who were sat side by side, not saying anything and not needing to; and now her mother and father, since he had come back from a scouting mission for the Order, placing protection charms back up around Hogwarts. George had completely disappeared, which Ginny wasn't all that surprised about.
Without her mother to hold onto, Ginny had suddenly found that needed someone. And that wasn't something she would admit very often.
She ended up wandering through the Great Hall, half-heartedly searching for Harry, though knowing that he probably wasn't there. She stopped for a few moments to talk to some girls who had been in her year and she caught up with Luna just as Professor McGonagall magnified her voice and began to address the crowd,
"Everyone, if I could have a moment!" she said, her voice so commanding and determined that it was laughable that she even needed to request for a moment – she had it straight away. "Hogwarts is in dire need of assistance and we are going to need every pair of hands today. The Order of the Phoenix has put protective charms back up around the grounds so Apparition is again impossible. However, for those families and students who wish to leave may come with me very soon to my office and you will all be able to use the Floo Network to return home.
"Also, those who wish to return to Hogsmeade are to be warned that there are journalists waiting at the Front Gates. We cannot stop those who wish to speak to them, but be warned: words can be twisted and no sympathy will fall to those who do not first think about their actions. The only journalist who will be allowed within the grounds is Mr Xenophilius Lovegood, who has always supported Harry Potter throughout this terrible time and has earned the right to publish a story announcing the end of the war.
"Furthermore, we have the grave matter of our dead. Those who wish to take their loved ones home with them may do so. However, if a body is not claimed by a family within three days, they will be buried in a grave here on Hogwarts grounds. All Death Eaters' bodies will be burned.
"Those who wish to stay at Hogwarts to help assist the rebuilding and cleaning may do so for as long as they wish. Rebuilding starts now. Dinner will be provided by the house-elves for those who need it later tonight.
"So now, those who wish to travel home by Floo, follow me. Those assisting in the clean-up, listen to the members of the Order. They will divide you into groups and tell you what to do. Thank you all – your courage and bravery this past night has allowed us to come away with a victory! Everyone in this hall should be proud."
Professor McGonagall's speech ended in silence for several moments, before people hastily shook themselves into action. Ginny was slightly in awe of the woman and she and Luna exchanged looks.
"No bloody idea how she does that," she muttered.
"She is a wonderful teacher. She is also a wonderful person," Luna agreed. "Are you going to help rebuild the castle?"
Ginny shrugged. "S'pose. Haven't really talked about what we're going to do yet, what with Fred …" She cut herself off, not trusting herself to speak any more. Luna caught on to this immediately and before Ginny could say another word, Luna had hugged her tightly.
"I am very sorry about your brother," Luna said softly, stroking her hair. "But it's not all bad. You will see him again."
Ginny nodded into Luna's shoulder. "Yeah. One day."
She squeezed Luna a bit tighter for a second before letting go. Where the hell was Harry?
"Well, we'd better get helping with the cleaning," Ginny muttered, bitterly. "Maybe if we peel back the dirt I'll finally be able to find out where Harry's actually hidden himself."
"Oh, he's with Ron and Hermione," Luna said simply and Ginny turned to stare. "He needed a bit of time away from all the people. I hope he's resting now."
"I …" Ginny didn't know what to say. "Do you know where he is?"
Luna shook her head. "He'll come when he's better," she said. "I do not think you need to worry, he'll come. He always comes. Especially for you. I'll see you later, Ginny." Luna kissed her lightly on the cheek before disappearing off into the crowd of people.
Oh, that Luna. Ginny at least managed a smile for her good friend, but didn't think she could quite bring herself to join in with the cleaning just yet. None of her family had moved from their various places around the hall, and the more she stood by herself, the more she wished that Luna was still there to hug. Ever since she had first caught a glance of her brother's blank, dead, face she had felt like someone had hacked her arm off. Ever since she was little, she'd always been able to pride herself in telling people, "I have six older brothers. They're idiots, but I love them."
What the hell was she supposed to say now?
Figuring that moving was better than doing nothing, she slipped out of the Great Hall before she could get roped into cleaning. She ended up wandering the depths of the castle, having to practically climb around fallen statues and crumbling walls, jumping over a floor collapse and at one point, even needing to levitate herself up a flight of stairs since they looked so unstable, she feared they might collapse under her.
She didn't even know where she was going. All she knew was that when she clattered out onto a shaky corridor near the second floor that looked like a bomb had hit it, she saw one lone person walking down it, his back to her.
But she'd know that back of a head anywhere.
"Harry?"
He turned and his face completely transformed when he saw her. While for a split second, he had looked absolutely and completely shattered, he now looked suddenly wide awake and alert.
"G-Ginny?" he stumbled over her name.
"Hey …" she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
She could barely understand how she was feeling, just standing there watching him. Even though she had barely seen him in over a year, it was remarkable how much he still reminded her of the Harry she'd fallen for. He still had that messy black hair, those same dorky glasses that had somehow miraculously survived the battle without getting smashed, and even though they probably both looked a mess, he was still just … there.
She didn't think she would ever forget the squeezing of her heart when she had first seen his dead body.
"… erm, where've you been?" was all she could barely manage to say.
"With Ron and Hermione," he answered, wincing as he noticed her tone. He hesitantly stepped towards her, but she didn't move. "We were just talking. They've gone somewhere. Dunno where, didn't really ask. I was just heading down to the kitchens to get a sandwich …"
"That sounds like something I could really use right now," Ginny said. She didn't think she'd ever spoken so flatly before, but she rather thought that if she didn't stay perfectly calm, she would completely snap. I needed you – I still need you – and you died. He was now barely two feet from her.
"One of three things I want," Harry said, shrugging. "That, a good, long sleep with no disruptions and, er, a hug from you."
She might have broken down right then and there if she hadn't still been so bloody angry. It was Harry half-heartedly raising his arms, as if to get said hug, which finally made her lose it. Without thinking, she crossed the two feet between them within seconds and punched him as hard as she could straight in the nose.
With a satisfying crack, Harry stumbled backwards, yelling and clutching his nose, which started to bleed. "Effing Merlin!" he yelled. "What the flipping hell was that for?"
"You died!" Ginny yelled, only slightly sorry for hurting him.
Harry just stared at her for a few moments.
"I – I came back!" he stammered.
"Yeah, well I didn't know that, did I?" Ginny continued to yell. "I thought you were dead and you were seriously just screwing with us all the whole time? I don't bloody think so! You nearly gave me a HEART ATTACK!"
"Well, what did you want me to do?" Harry shouted back, frowning. "Go back in time? Tell Riddle no, sorry, you can't kill me because that'll really piss off my ex-girlfriend?"
"I – no! I don't know!" Ginny rubbed her eyes frantically, refusing to let tears spill over. She hadn't cried when her brother died, and she wasn't about to cry now. "I just don't know, Harry! When I saw Hagrid carrying you, I don't even … god. I thought I must have died as well. I thought it was all over … I thought …"
"I know," Harry said, gingerly prodding his nose with his finger before pulling out his wand. With a crunch and a yelp of pain, his nose at least looked like it was in the right place again. "Bloody hell, I forgot how much you can pack a punch …"
"Yeah, well."
"Ginny, that bloody hurt."
"Good! It was supposed to!" she told him, folding her arms. "So. Are you ever going to bother to explain what you've been doing the past ten months? Or am I going to be left guessing forever?"
"I – Gin –" Harry glanced around and noticed a statue that had been ripped up and thrown onto its side. He took her hand and quickly led her over to the statue and sat her down beside him. She had no idea how she felt when he pulled his hand back. "Ginny, there is so much I want to say to you. Honestly, I don't even know where to begin. 'I'm sorry' is pretty high up there though, so I'll start with that. I'm so, so, sorry for everything. For dumping you, for falling for you in the first place, for Fred, for making you stay in the Room of Requirement, for dying and not telling you …"
Ginny blinked. "You … you don't have to apologise for falling for me," she mumbled, not looking at him.
Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes warily. "And I don't want to. Ginny … look, I don't regret that time together last year, I really don't, except only sometimes I would wonder if it would've just been easier if we'd never gone out. It was like … I got a taste of freedom, for the first time in my life and I liked it. But I could never have that because all I had to look forward to in my life was, well, defeating Riddle."
Ginny could hardly believe what he was saying as she hesitantly said, "But now he's gone …"
Harry sighed. "Now he's gone and I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life. I don't know what's in my future any more. The only thing I know I'm definitely sure of is that I want you in it. I don't care how," he added hastily when he caught Ginny's expression. "If – if you just want to stay friends, that's … that's fine. But I want you with me. I need you."
It was quite possibly the best and worst thing she'd ever heard in her life. When he said things like that, it made it a lot harder to be angry at him. But not impossible.
"Ok, let me get this," Ginny thought hard. "You fluff around for a year before actually asking me out. We barely get a month together before you dump me to run off on some suicide mission. You're surprised to make it out alive and now you don't know how to handle the girl you left behind, since you thought you'd be conveniently dead once this was all over?"
Harry blinked. "What–? No! Ginny, of course I don't–"
"Because I'm sick of being messed around!" Ginny said bitterly, standing up and facing him. "You died today, not too long after my brother died and you say that you need me? Did it never even occur to you that I might need you? I swear I am this close to losing it, so I am not just going to sit here and watch you come crawling back!"
Harry was looking quite gob-smacked, too much to even protest again the fact that he hadn't actually died. Even Ginny had to admit she didn't know where this was all coming from. She knew she was angry, had hoped that all she would be able to feel was anger, but remembering Harry's lifeless body, remembering Fred's blank face, made her realise that the anger simply helped cover up the pain of the past few hours.
And that was when she broke.
The tears had been pressing at her ever since she'd found out her brother was dead, but she'd been forcing them back. Now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop a tear from falling. "How …" She struggled for words. "How the hell d'you survive this? The – death, I mean, Harry, it hurts so bloody much …"
"I know," he said, looking utterly devastated. He stood as well, tentatively moving in front of her. "Ginny … I'm sorry. I know I've said that, but I'm so sorry about everything. Fred was a good man, he didn't deserve to die."
Ginny tried not to sob. "He's gone …" she whispered.
"I know."
"How …"
Harry just shrugged. "Time. Time's the only thing that can make you better. But it's always going to hurt. It'll get better and you'll eventually be able to think about him and smile, but it will always, always hurt."
"Oh, god–" Ginny managed to get out before the tears got the better of her and she could barely hold herself upright anymore. However, that was only partly the reason that she stepped forward and flung her arms around him, throwing her face into his neck and clutching desperately at his tatty shirt. She needed this, needed arms around her, needed a space where neck and shoulder met to push her face into as she cried, needed a neck to cling around. Because for the first time since she saw his lifeless face, she really let herself think of Fred. The brother she would never talk to again. The brother they would have to put in a hole in the ground. She was shaking so hard from her sobs that she thought she must be making Harry move, too. However it was only when she had finally managed to calm down somewhat when she realised that he was shaking because he had been crying as well.
"It's ok …" he was murmuring into her ear. "I'm here, Ginny. You're ok."
"I know," she whispered back.
It was several more moments before they had both finally managed to pull it together and Ginny was rubbing her eyes on his shoulder when he asked, "So if you hate me so much, why're you still hugging me?"
"Because I missed you, you bloody idiot," she told him.
"Oh," Harry pulled back slightly so he could give her a small smile. "I missed you, too. And a bit more, but we can talk about that later."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Harry shrugged, tightening his grip around her. "I mean, my life has always been a rush. Rush to survive, rush to get to the end. But now … I think we've got all the time in the world."
late morning
Parvati sat next to Lavender in the Great Hall, holding her best friend's hand and stroking back her fringe. She was completely out cold, the only way to keep her from screaming in pain. Padma had checked in a few times to make sure she was still all right, but mostly just left her sister to look after her friend.
She wasn't moving. Nothing could make her move.
"Move. Now," a stern voice ordered and Parvati shifted immediately as Madam Pomfrey practically shoved her out of the way.
Well. She didn't include the matron.
"How's she doing?" Parvati asked, desperate for more information than, 'this is bad'.
Madam Pomfrey tsked and fussed for several moments before answering. "She needs to get to St. Mungo's as soon as she can tolerate enough pain to rouse for a few minutes," she said. "The Healers will want to question her since this is such a rare case and she needs to be able to answer. Bill Weasley could go with her, he's already talked to some of the victims with minor injuries, but … well, as for if she'll live, I have my doubts."
"I don't want to hear that!" Parvati insisted, moving to Lavender's other side so she could still hold her hand and not get in Madam Pomfrey's way. "She's my best friend! She is not going to die today!"
Madam Pomfrey stared at her hard. The usually so proper matron currently had dark, sunken eyes, like she hadn't slept for days … actually, she probably hadn't. "I don't want you to get your hopes up," she said to Parvati, firmly. "I've had many of my patients die before I could save them today. I mean last night. Oh, whenever. Point is, expect the worse. I've never had so many like her before," She glanced down at where she was holding her wand to Lavender's wrist. "Heartbeat is steady for now. I'll be back to check on her later." And she bustled off.
Parvati stared down at her once beautiful friend. There had been a point when Parvati had been so jealous of Lavender's looks; now, she could barely stand to look at her. Her face and neck was half covered in hastily wrapped bandages as Fenrir Greyback had practically shredded her skin. There was only so much blood one could take and Parvati was sure that she was reaching her limit.
Still. She wouldn't leave Lavender.
Only some people had taken the time out to come and see how Lavender was doing; mainly Seamus, who had always been the boy closest to the two of them from their class, and Padma. Pretty much everyone else was all busy with their own families and friends.
So, naturally, she was more than shocked when Hermione Granger turned up.
"Hermione?" Parvati asked, astounded. Hermione was looking slightly green-tinged, but still determined as she sat down next to the camp stretcher that had been conjured up for Lavender to lie on. "What're you doing here?"
"Seeing if Lavender is ok," she said, looking straight at her. "Parvati, how is she?"
Parvati was still in shock, so she ended up telling the truth. "Madam Pomfrey honestly doesn't know if she'll make it to St. Mungo's," she said. "Every time she's conscious, she screams and screams from the pain and won't answer to anyone. The cuts can't be healed properly and her family can't get here because they're stuck at the Ministry."
Hermione blinked and Parvati couldn't possibly guess what was going through her mind. She didn't answer for a long time and eventually, Parvati couldn't take the silence. "So what have you been doing since it ended?" she asked, half-heartedly.
Hermione shrugged, wincing when she made to rub her eyes but accidentally bumped a bruise on her face instead. "I've been with Harry and Ron. Harry's exhausted, he said he was going to get a sandwich then go to bed. Ron … Ron's with his family," She glanced behind her and Parvati looked as well, only to see the entire Weasley family, minus two siblings, now standing and crouching around the fallen brother. Parvati still got a pang whenever she saw Fred Weasley's face. She noticed that the two siblings missing were Ginny, nowhere to be seen, and of course George, who had been gone for a few hours now.
Ron was standing with Bill and Fleur, the latter with her arms around both men. Fleur wept silently as Ron stared blankly at his dead brother. Parvati couldn't tell Bill's expression, since he had hidden his face in his wife's hair.
"They're a strong family," Parvati said. "They … I'm sure they'll get through this."
Hermione gave her a look. "I'm not so sure. I have no idea how they will get through this. I don't even know how I should be feeling. I mean, compared to Ron, I barely knew F-Fred …" She sniffed loudly and turned back to Lavender. "Doesn't matter," she said, reaching out a hand and tugging back a lock of hair that had been stuck in the bandages. "For now, I just need to check on Lavender."
Parvati watched her for a few moments before asking, "Why're you doing this? I mean, we've always been all right, but I got the impression that you and Lavender never really got along …"
Hermione glanced up before shrugging. "I made an effort to like her, I really did," she said. "But … we were just so different … I mean, we are different," she added, taking care not to speak in a past tense. "We were never going to see eye to eye, not when Ron was involved anyway."
Parvati managed a slight smile, despite herself. She'd spent what had felt like countless hours gossiping with Lavender about the state of Ron and Hermione. Naturally, all throughout sixth-year she had been the faithful friend exclaiming, 'Girl, Ron's totally fit, who cares about Hermione!' but she couldn't deny that even she and Lavender at one point had just wanted them to get off already.
"Can I ask …" Parvati figured there would be no other time that was appropriate, so she might as well satisfy her curiosity now. "What's the deal with you two? I mean, I know you've been practically in love with him for years, but are you actually together or what …?"
Hermione avoided her eye and blushed, a bright red that rivalled the blood that slowly seeped out of Lavender's skin. "I don't know," she eventually settled on. "Things have been so … mad lately, that I just don't know what's going on. Things have sort of spilled over … I mean, we've kissed, but–"
"You're serious?" Parvati couldn't help but laugh at that, knowing what her best friend's reaction would have been, had this been a year ago and Lavender were conscious. "Oh god, I would've given anything to have seen that!"
Hermione gave a slight smile. "Harry was there," she said. "I think we actually managed to traumatise him."
"Oh, poor bloke."
"Either way," Hermione broke off, expression hard to read. She glanced over at Ron again across the hall. "It's been kind of – awkward, trying to get our heads around everything that's happened, as well as trying to figure out our weird love life. The more time that goes on, the harder and harder it is to talk to him. He wanted to stay with his family for a while and I don't blame him. I'm sort of debating hiding somewhere until this all blows over."
Parvati snorted at that. "Hermione, if there's anything I've learnt from that bloke over the years, it's how he feels about you. Don't let the awkwardness get in the way."
"You knew that he …" Hermione's voice trailed off, though Parvati didn't really need her to finish.
"Of course!" she said. "I knew, Lavender knew – hell, I think most of Gryffindor house bloody knew!"
"Oh my god …" Hermione moaned then, hiding her face in the hand that wasn't currently on Lavender's shoulder. Parvati managed a smile, though Hermione looked so horrified that she ended up taking pity on her and giving her the chance to change the subject. Besides, it was still something she was also curious about.
"So …" she said. "You're here with Lavender then to try and, what? Make up for all those times you rowed and fought with her?"
Hermione let her hand fall away from her face, glancing sadly down at her former dormitory mate. "To make up for everything," she said. "Quite frankly, I was a cow to her sometimes. But there was no way I was letting her die in that battle and there's no way I'm letting her die now. Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione called and the matron stuck her head up, irritably.
"What is it?" she said. "I'm a little busy here!"
"Lavender Brown – the werewolf victim – is she safe for travel?"
Madam Pomfrey frowned. "Not really, but it'll be too late if we waited for her to be safe anyway."
"Then let's go," Hermione stood up, offering a hand to Parvati to help her to her feet. She didn't take it, only stared.
"What're you on about?" she said.
"Let's take Lavender to St. Mungo's now!" Hermione said, not waiting for her hand to be accepted, just bending down and grabbing her anyway. Parvati was hauled upright before she even realised it.
"But she needs to be able to tolerate pain!"
"She's no good lying around here," Hermione said, pointing her wand at the camp stretcher and it hovered off the ground. "At least at St. Mungo's, she'll be in a proper hospital, not a castle hall and with people to look after her. Come on," she insisted when she caught the doubt on Parvati's face. "Do it for her, Parvati. Your best friend. She's not dying today, right?"
It took a long moment before she trusted her, but eventually, Parvati answered, "Right. Ready, Lavender?" she asked.
Hermione glanced down too and softly touched the back of her hand to Lavender's cheek. "I'm going to save you," she murmured.
late morning
When Harry and Ginny entered the Great Hall, it was to find it in a form of organised chaos. With so many critical patients and injuries, they were being frantically looked after by Madam Pomfrey right there in the hall. She had apparently accumulated an entire team of students to assist her, having found under the circumstances that they all seemed to have a knack for healing. Harry caught sight of Hermione standing with who he recognised as Parvati and poor Lavender before heading determinedly for the doors. Hermione caught Harry's eye as they walked past him and she mouthed, "St. Mungo's, Floo!"
Harry nodded grimly to her, hoping that Lavender would pull through. He didn't think he'd be able to handle any other deaths today. His grip on Ginny's hand tightened and she noticed, turning to glance at him.
"It'll be ok," she muttered. "All the time in the world, remember?"
He nodded, disbelieving that she could still comfort him after what had happened in that corridor upstairs. They had sat together and simply cried for what felt like an age. Sure, things were still slightly awkward after Ginny's initial anger at him, but they were at least trying to fix it. He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do now. The Great Hall was starting to make him anxious, chest tightening as he caught glimpses of beaten students and the fallen rubble, but he was Harry Potter. As Ginny had shown him, he was needed here. As much as he just wanted to curl up somewhere and pass out (seriously, even a rock would do at this point) he knew he couldn't quite forget just yet.
Luckily, one of the few people he would have actually been willing to speak to, was one who did.
"Hey, mate," Ron's voice was croaky and barely audible as he and Ginny approached. He stood arm in arm with Bill and Fleur, eyes and nose red, in contrast to his pale face. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure," he said, almost relieved that no one was going to make him be the Saviour of the Wizarding World again just yet. As Ron disentangled himself from his brother and sister-in-law, Harry turned to Ginny and suddenly found that he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Eventually, Ginny decided it for him where she squeezed his hand once with a small smile before moving away to go throw her arms around Fleur.
Harry and Ron thankfully managed to get away before the rest of the family converged on them. Harry still hadn't quite faced Mrs Weasley yet and honestly didn't know what he would do when he did. She had always said that Harry was as good as her son, but one of her real sons had died today and it had more or less been Harry's fault. She wouldn't think he was family now.
He and Ron collapsed together on one of the benches, far from the rest of the Weasley family. They were near the front doors of the Great Hall and they just caught sight of Hermione finishing her quick conversation with Professor McGonagall, before leaving with Parvati and the floating camp stretcher containing Lavender. Harry turned to look at Ron and was surprised to see such blatant adoration in his gaze. For the past almost seven years, Harry had seen Ron try and cover up that face basically every second of every day. He wasn't used to the idea of him not even bothering to hide his feelings anymore.
Besides, Ron even having feelings was a wonder enough.
"Soooo," Harry said, forgetting his own worries for a moment as Ron continued to watch the doors, as if Hermione might appear again any second. "Exactly how many years have you been in love with Hermione for?"
Ron didn't answer for a while, just let out a rather large sigh. Then, he held up a hand and started counting on his fingers, an action that almost made Harry laugh.
"About three years?" he said. "Er, give or take a few?"
"Only three?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Well," Ron shrugged. "Yule Ball. That's when I figured that I had been an idiot the last four years. Not that I have a clue what I'm doing now, either. Jesus, this is weird to talk about out loud, can't I just go back to when hated her guts?"
Harry snorted. "You mean back to when all that bickering was what? Playful banter?"
"Oh, screw you," Ron rolled his eyes.
"Just sayin'!"
"Yeah, yeah, you've known, haven't you?" Ron said to him, accusingly. "I don't know how, but you figured it out, didn't you?"
"C'mon," Harry said. "If I hadn't have realised after the Lavender Fiasco, then I would've had to have been effing blind!"
Ron just grumbled a mixture of swear words and insults under his breath, staring at the doors to the Great Hall again. Harry tried his best not to snigger in amusement. Ron paused for a moment then, before saying, "She's in a bad way, isn't she? Lavender I mean."
"I think so, yeah," Harry said, frowning. "I only got a glimpse of her during the battle before we had to move on and I could only just catch her moving. Hermione's helping to transfer her to St. Mungo's now with Parvati."
"Wondered where they were going …" Ron muttered and Harry looked at him.
"She didn't tell you?"
"She hasn't spoken to me at all since we left Dumbledore's office," Ron admitted in a slightly bitter voice. "That's why I wanted to talk to you, I just don't get her! I thought we were … I dunno. But she started pulling back, so I said I wanted to spend some time with my family, and bloody hell, she probably hates me …"
"Mate," Harry shook his head. "Please tell me that you've actually tried to talk to her?"
"I … well, I mean … hey, she kissed me!" he said, indignantly.
"Yeah, I know, I was there, remember?"
Ron gave him an apologetic look. "Oh, right," he muttered. "Sorry about that. But she had just thrown herself at me, I couldn't just say, 'not the time, Hermione,' could I?"
Harry snorted. "Nah. Forget about it, you two deserve it after the year we've just had. Besides, I've seen it coming for a few years now and considering how much luck we have, I figured I'd end up witnessing it."
Ron just shook his head as if he would never quite believe that he had actually kissed Hermione. "Anyway," he said, apparently in the end of a subject change. "Have you patched things up with my sister? Saw you two together …"
Harry actually allowed his thoughts to stray to Ginny once more. After spending the last year trying to force himself to think of anything but, he was actually rather alarmed at how easily it suddenly came.
"Er … sort of. Actually, I'm not sure," he said. "She got rather angry at me for pretending to die and, y'know, everything else that's happened. Then she sort of broke down … don't tell her I told you that," he added, hastily.
"Don't worry, I won't," Ron said, immediately. "I've been on the receiving end of her anger before and trust me, I'm not going to get into that situation again in a hurry."
"But we're talking at least," Harry said, leaning over slightly so he could see Ginny across the hall with Bill and Fleur. "That's something."
"More than what I can say about Hermione …"
"Blimey, mate, why do we do it?" Harry mused out loud, shaking his head. "The whole 'girl' thing? I mean, I'm starting to wonder why we put ourselves through all of this!"
"Because when we were younger, we didn't care," Ron stated, shrugging as if he'd already thought about this. "Then when we grew up, we didn't have time. Now we've finally got both and it's bloody insane. Or hey, maybe it's just because we like causing ourselves pain, who the hell knows?"
"Yeah, that's probably it," Harry muttered. They sat there together for quite a while, not really saying anything, but just offering companionable silence. It was something he'd always liked about his best friend; sometimes, just each other's presence was enough. Harry knew that him and his family was going to have a tough next few days, and even tougher days to come after that. And even though he knew that the Weasley family was a strong one and that Ginny was probably one of the strongest of them all (and also even though no matter how much he admitted to himself that that was one of the many things he liked so much about her), he knew that she had to let herself grieve, or she would never get better. Given how she'd practically hated herself upstairs for crying with him, he figured that that was going to be a hard road.
And Hermione. She didn't know when to stop – stop helping, stop cleaning, when to just stop, take a break and concentrate on herself for a change. For the longest time at Hogwarts, the only person who had been able to get her to put down her homework and just breathe for a few minutes was, well, Ron. She was going to need him. Now more than ever.
But Harry was fine for now, with just him and Ron sat together. They could face the world later.
mid-day
George tried not to think about him. He really did. It never worked.
He was sat in the stands of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, where he had a perfect view of the ruined castle reflecting off the lake. Not that it mattered. Fred still wasn't there to see it.
Fred wasn't there.
When he'd first seen the dead body, he'd thought it had to be some kind of sick joke. Fred was just kidding around and was about to leap up and get a good smack off their Mum. But he never did – he just laid there. George had already walked through the Great Hall and seen many students he once knew or still did know dead, including one bloke who used to live in his dormitory, who he and Fred once played practical jokes on. Now, however, he seemed to have been hit by a grotesque spell that had burnt him from head to toe. The only reason Madam Pomfrey had been able to identify him was from his wand.
Then he'd seen Remus and Tonks and it was like getting hit in the gut several times over. He knew Remus and Tonks, he liked Remus and Tonks. They had a baby son who was barely a month old. And they were just … dead. It wasn't fair and he'd stopped there to cry a few tears and beg Tonks to change her hair colour, just one more time.
But that was when Bill had called out to him and he caught the looks on his family's faces.
He should have realised. For a while before the ceasefire had even been called, he'd been fighting with a sudden sick feeling inside him, like he just knew that something was wrong. However, he'd refused to listen to it, knowing that he'd need all his attention on the battle. But when he had looked over, he thought he might just hex himself for not listening, and that could never even come close to making him feel better.
Percy had been sat at Fred's feet, face hidden in his knees. Bill had never let Fleur more than an arm's length away from him, her face completely stained with tears. Charlie hadn't arrived at the castle at that point yet and Ron was of course nowhere to be found, but their mum and dad were both crying over their son, stroking his hair and clutching his hand.
George had felt like he might be sick. He hadn't wanted to accept it.
He still didn't.
He liked it out here in the stands. Despite the midday sun, the wind was absolutely bitter and he was shivering in his rather ratty t-shirt, but he didn't care. The wind distracted him. If he didn't think about it, then it would be like it never happened. Fred would still be alive. He'd be up at the castle, helping tidy up.
So long as he never moved from this spot, he'd be ok.
"G-George?"
He recognised the voice. Of course. His little sister was picking her way across the Quidditch pitch, climbing over the seats until she had reached his side. She sat down heavily and stared out over the stands.
"It's bloody freezing," she said.
"Yeah."
"You coming inside?"
"No."
Ginny nodded and didn't say anything else. George felt the tears threatening to come, but he choked them down the best he could. No need. Fred wasn't dead. He was still at the castle, helping tidy up …
They were silent for a long time, just sitting next to each other. At one point, Ginny took his hand and gripped it tightly and he let her. Ginny had seen a lot of people she knew die. Hell, she saw Harry dead. Of course she would need a little comfort.
After what seemed like an age, George finally found something to say.
"He's not dead. Fred, I mean."
Ginny just looked up at him sadly. She squeezed his hand tightly before giving a heavy sigh.
"Yeah, sure. I know."
early afternoon
Harry glanced up almost as soon as Ginny re-entered the Great Hall. He caught her eye and all she gave was a shake of her head. No. George wasn't coming inside any time soon.
He and Ron had re-joined the Weasley family, sat around Fred. They had all been silent, save for their quiet sobs until Ginny approached them.
"No George," she said, stopping at Harry's side. "He just wants to be by himself for a while."
Mrs Weasley's entire face was red from crying, but that was when she sat up from her position on the floor next to her dead son's head. "Right," she said determinedly, accepting Charlie's hand in getting to her feet. Mr Weasley was off with the Order once more, helping to clean the school, and it appeared that Mrs Weasley was about to make them all follow suit. "There's no point sitting around here all day, there's work to be done! You lot–" She pointed to the rest of her children, blood related or otherwise. "–it's time to get to work. We can all stay at Hogwarts tonight."
And she bustled off without a backwards glance.
"Why do I get the feeling that she's going to try and forget all this by cleaning herself into a coma?" Ginny asked, sighing.
"Because she's Mum," Ron said. The three of them exchanged looks. "Oh, don't tell me, we've actually got to go help clean the castle now, right?"
"Yes, Ron!" Ginny said, slapping his arm. "This has been our home for six, seven years! We've got to do something to help it."
"Damn, I was really looking forward to that ten hours of sleep …" Harry muttered. Once they had organised with the others who was doing what, the three of them quietly left for the rest of the main castle. However, they didn't get very far out of the Great Hall, since it was several metres from the doors when Hermione re-entered the hall from the Marble Staircase, obviously just returning from St. Mungo's. Ron stopped dead.
Ginny's head swivelled between the two and said, "Ah."
Hermione had stopped too, only she appeared to recover faster than Ron did. "Hey," she said softly, hesitantly approaching and avoiding Ron's eye. "Lavender's doing ok. It was a bit shaky when we first arrived and the screaming was awful, but the Healers soon worked their magic. Her family and Parvati's with her."
"That's great," Harry said, since it was becoming clear that Ron wasn't going to say anything. He and Ginny exchanged looks; he didn't think he'd ever witnessed a more awkward moment, and that included the time Hermione had asked out Ron during a Herbology lesson back in their sixth-year!
"We're going to help clean the castle," Ginny put in when no one else said anything.
"Oh, fantastic!" Hermione said. "I'd love to help clean. Might make up for the fact that we haven't been here the past year."
"Yeah," Ron suddenly piped up. "And besides, you're the best at those sorts of spells. Or any spells really, but those ones in particular."
The compliment wasn't lost on Harry, but Hermione it seemed was doing her best to ignore Ron. She didn't answer him, just went slightly red and stared at the floor before Harry took pity on her and said, "C'mon. Hermione, you can come with me. Ginny … make sure Ron doesn't fall down some stairs or something."
"Oi!" Ron said, but Harry had already dragged Hermione away and back towards the Marble Staircase, nodding to the students discussing with some Order members how to go about fixing it. All around, people were steadily getting into the clean-up of the castle; there were a few people in the Entrance Hall and in the corridors beyond, some slowly having to magic bricks back into place to repair a wall where the Acromantulas had burst in, others trying to scrub blood stains out of the stone.
It would be a miracle if it ever came out.
"Hermione, why're you ignoring Ron?" Harry figured it would be best to just cut straight to the chase as they headed up the Marble Staircase … or well, what was left of it. The entire right half of the staircase had crumbled, so they needed to clutch at the banister on the left hand side to practically climb up.
"What–? I'm not ignoring Ron–"
Harry just snorted as they clambered out onto the first floor. "C'mon, Hermione!" he said, nudging her with his shoulder. "You're the smartest girl I know, so don't give me that rubbish. He told me the two of you have hardly spoken all day and just now? What the hell was that?"
Hermione sighed and stopped to lean against the corridor wall in one of the few places where the walls were still standing. He moved and joined her, pressing his shoulder comfortably against hers.
"There's no chance we can just pretend none of this happened, right?" she asked, eyes closed.
"Believe me, I've been wishing that the last few years," Harry said.
Hermione finally glanced up at him. "Every time I look at him, I can't help but remember when I … well …"
"Yeah. You know, I think I vaguely remember that part," Harry said, rather interested to actually hear Hermione's side in all of this. "Trust me, I know you gave Ron one hell of a shock!"
Hermione shook her head before sliding down the wall until she was sitting down. Harry bent and sat down with her. "I don't know what came over me!" she said. "One second we were fighting for our lives, the next he was just being so Ron that I … I don't know, snapped …"
Harry thought for a few moments before giving her the best advice he could think of. "Talk to him," he said. "I'm serious, Hermione, just go talk to him. He's pretty hurt right now and, let's face it, he needs you a lot."
"I know," Hermione muttered, so low that Harry barely caught it. "I need him, too."
They were silent for a bit, watching as groups of people came down their corridor, sweeping up rubble and saying reparo to anything that would be fixed under the spell. Eventually, Hermione said, "We'll have to go to a funeral, won't we?"
Harry glanced at her, confused. "Hermione, I think we're going to end up going to a lot of funerals after this …"
She shook her head. "I mean for Fred," She blinked and looked away. "I mean, it just hit me right now … I'm going to have to go to a funeral. Dumbledore's is the only one I've been to besides my grandma's when I was six and I barely remember that. Harry, I don't know how to handle someone dying …"
"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, frowning.
Hermione just gave a sad sort of sound before leaning her head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his elbow and holding on, tightly. He figured he'd let her, even though he did rather fear losing the feeling in his arm. "Every time someone has died, they've never been close to me," she muttered into his shoulder. "I mean, I've known them, like Dumbledore, but I was never close to them like you were. When Sirius died I was sad, sure, but not like you … he was like a second dad to you whereas I just lived in his house for a bit over the summer. It's been the same with everyone. But Fred …"
"You were a lot closer to Fred than all the others," Harry made sure to tell her. "Hermione, listen to me, you're allowed to grieve."
"But I wasn't that close!" she cried. "Not like Ron – I'm not his brother! I'm not his twin! I didn't even hang out with him while we were at Hogwarts! I only just–"
"–just knew him for seven years," Harry cut over her rising voice. "Were friends with him for almost just as long. Lived in his house nearly every summer since you were twelve. Put him in detention more times than a kid with Dragon Pox would sneeze fire. Ate at the same breakfast table as him. Hermione, you knew him."
Hermione glanced up at him for a moment. "I don't even know how to grieve, Harry," she said, miserably. "I've never had to do it before, not properly. I don't even know who I'm allowed to grieve for–"
"For god's sake, Hermione!" Harry said, almost liking the feeling of exasperation that was rising at Hermione just being Hermione; it was almost comforting. "Of course you're allowed to grieve for Fred! And it doesn't matter how you do it, everyone grieves in different ways–"
"I don't deserve it!" Hermione cut in, startling him.
"… what the hell makes you say that?" he asked, frowning.
She just shrugged, hiding her face in his shoulder again. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm the one with all the answers, but I don't know how to do this. If I don't know, then what am I supposed to do? Ron … Ron needs someone who can comfort him. I can't even do that right and look at me, I'm crying all over you! Ron doesn't need someone like that."
Harry sighed. "Maybe not, but he doesn't just need someone to look after him," he told her. "He needs someone who gets him to just be there. He needs you. He honestly and truly does because I'm telling you now, I don't think I've ever seen two people love each other as much and you two do."
Hermione didn't answer for a long time and a hasty glance down told him that she had gone bright red. If he couldn't see through all her hair, then he could totally tell just by the way she suddenly tensed. "I …" she began, but trailed off.
"He's going spare," Harry told her. "Please, just bloody well talk to him? His complaining is doing my head in!"
Hermione sat up and rubbed at her eyes, giving a small laugh despite herself. "Ok," she said and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "I will. At some point. Now, we should probably get back to what we were supposed to be doing in the first place."
Harry sighed as they both helped each other up. "I dunno about you, but I'm so knackered I swear I could fall asleep still standing."
Hermione smiled at him before moving forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. "Yeah, so could I," she said into his chest. "But Hogwarts comes first."
Harry hugged her back. "Yeah. Let's save Hogwarts."
A/N: Ok, first of all, I apologise for the insane length of this. This is only part one since all up the 'oneshot' (and I use that term verrrry loosely) was about 20,000 words. So I split it into two parts.
This story was completely inspired by my watching Deathly Hallows: Part 2. Yes, I was completely devastated (seriously, I think I walked out of that movie theatre saying, "But … but what am I supposed to DO with my life?") but it gave me motivation to write, so this came into existence! A lot of moments, particularly between Ron and Hermione, are based on the movie, especially in part 2 of this story, mainly because I loved them and felt like they needed to be used.
Also I know that in the book the fate of Lavender was a bit sketchy and the movie actually goes and shows her dead, but I always imagined that Lavender survived the battle, though not without scars. So I kept that in this story.
This entire story is basically one giant headcannon for me about what happens immediately after the war. Either way, I hope you liked it, and that you all enjoyed the last movie as well!
I would love to know what you all think, so reviews are definitely appreciated!
Until next time –
– Moon. : D
