Don't the hours go shorter as the days go by
We never get to stop and open our eyes
One minute you're waiting for the sky to fall
The next you're dazzled by the beauty of it all
Lovers in a Dangerous Time
These fragile bodies of touch and taste
This fragrant skin this hair like lace
Spirits open to a thrust of grace
Never a breath you can afford to waste
Lovers in a Dangerous Time
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Sometimes you're made to feel as if your love's a crime
Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight
Gotta kick at the darkness before it bleeds daylight
Lovers in a Dangerous Time
We were Lovers in a Dangerous Time
--"Lovers in a Dangerous Time" by the Barenaked Ladies
Golden rays of light flowed over the ruins of the castle. The sun drifted slowly downwards, disappearing below the earth's horizon. This sunset wasn't particularly spectacular. It was just the same as the day before, and will be the same the day after. But to the man who sat by the lake watching the darkness slowly take over, it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. And like most beautiful things he'd witnessed, it held a sadness that would only be dispelled by the rising of the sun in the early morning dawn.
Everyday he made the trek out to this particular lake to watch the sun rise and set. And every single day his breath was taken away by the splendor and the magic each beginning and ending contained. He would sit quietly by himself and smile softly. He was enjoying these past few days. Days without fighting, without struggle. Days where he could just sit silently and watch as nature did all the work.
He looked up and saw the first stars appearing. He challenged himself to count them as each one gave their light. He got to one thousand nine hundred and ninety-four before he stopped and stared at the constellation over top of him. It was Cassiopeia, the cluster of stars that create a zig-zag in the sky that looked as if you could take a seat right there in the sky. He traced it with his finger and thought of the person who would love to see it. He didn't know where she was, or what had happened to her. All he had were his memories. Memories of the first time he knew he loved her.
That night, he had gone out with her on the pretense of watching the stars. He had been practicing all week how he was going to tell her. He was a constant annoyance to his roommates. Their laughter and jeers only fueled his determination to tell her. He followed her down to the blanket she had spread by the lake, his stomach a ball of nerves, his brain racing with the different sayings he had said in front of the mirror. She took him by the hand, an act that caused an electric shock to shoot down his spine, and sat him down right next to her.
She pointed out her favorite constellations. She talked about supernovas and black holes. She showed him the Milky Way. And through all of this his mouth remained shut. He couldn't seem to get the words out. The time was getting late, she was growing tired and he was beginning to loose all hope when suddenly she grabbed his arm and pointed up to a shooting star that streaked across the sky by the Cassiopeia. He took this opportunity to take her hands in his and look deep into her eyes.
He leaned in close and kissed her gently on the lips. Before she could push him away, he embraced her and whispered softly into her ear. "I love you. I always have."
Her eyes teared as she surprised him and kissed him back. "I know," was all she said. "I know."
The man staring at the sunset laughed to himself. She always did know everything. She was top of their class after all. He remembered that he wasn't shocked that she knew he loved her. In fact, the feeling was comforting. In the months that followed their relationship blossomed from a close friendship to a passionate romance. People looked at them in the hallways with a mixture of jealousy and happiness.
It was sixth months before they slept together. In his mind it had occurred out on the banks of the lake where he confessed his love for her. The stars were shining and her favorite constellation was the brightest of all. But in reality it occurred in his dormitory bed late one night when most of his roommates were off in another part of the tower most likely grinning and talking about how he was finally getting laid.
He remembered how he kissed her and she shivered. Her long brown curly hair spread out around her body like a halo. Her soft touch on his freckled skin made him moan. Her lips tasted like she had just eaten an entire bag of fizzy whizzbees. Her kisses made him dizzy. He could recall the tangle of limbs, the soft cry of pleasure, the warm sensation and the burning hotness that happened when they both came. The promises they made to each other as they laid there, holding onto each other as if the other person were about to disappear and the entire night was a dream.
Sitting by the lake this evening, he recalled how that night was the night before the war started. It was almost ridiculous that the happiest night of his life occurred before the terror that would be the rest of his life. The war started. Their best friend was called to defend the wizarding way of life, to fight and ultimately defeat Lord Voldemort. That day they both showed up at Harry's side, prepared to fight to the death if need be.
Years went by and still the war raged on. He saw her less and less. But whatever time they did have together they cherished. Each night they spent together, each embrace, each kiss was clung to as if a precious jewel. But like everything, it couldn't last. Their friends were dying and Harry was being targeted more then ever. They were warned that Death Eaters would find any and all means to attack Harry and kill him. He never believed the lengths to which they'd go.
One night, two years ago to be exact, he was walking out of the front door following her when a Death Eater showed up and cast a curse that caused her to fall and stop breathing. He stunned the Death Eater quickly and rushed to her side. He used every simple healing spell he knew, but nothing worked. Luckily, Lupin and Tonks showed up in time to take her to St. Mungo's. He was ordered not to follow but to find Harry and protect him. He was in agony. His heart followed her as she was taken away while his body stayed and found Harry.
Harry was just as shocked as he was. He was almost inconsolable, he was so worried that she would never wake up. He never said the word "dead" for if that turned out to be the case he wouldn't be able to cope. That's when Harry told him what he dreaded to hear.
"You can't do this anymore," he told him. "She'll only be in more danger if they knew how strong your relationship is. You have to let her go."
He fought it, fought his best friend. Convinced that the attack had nothing to do with their relationship. But in the end, he broke down crying for he knew that it would be the best for her.
He visited her in the hospital. It was the last time he remembered seeing her. She was still in a coma, but the healers assured him that she would wake in a few hours. He bent down and kissed her.
"I love you, Hermione," he whispered. "When this is all over, come find me. I'll be waiting for you at the place where I first said I loved you."
And then he left. For the past two years he had been helping Harry out abroad, fighting the war on its foreign fronts. He never heard what happened to Hermione besides the fact that she woke up. He hoped that she was doing well and that she didn't hate him for abandoning her.
Now the war was over. The man had been coming to this spot every day since the war ended waiting for her to show up. He glanced up at the sky and saw Cassiopeia shining brightly down on him. He knew she would show up, it was just a matter of time.
It was then that he felt a hand on his. He looked over and saw her brown eyes staring deep into his blue ones. He opened his mouth to say something when she stopped him with a kiss. He embraced her and whispered into her ear "I love you, Hermione. I always have."
"I know, Ron." She said. "I know."