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Until Then
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You can't remember the last time you kissed him.
That's the thing you think about, now of all times. And of all the things to forget, this is it for you. And you feel your throat close up because it makes you so incredibly sad, and you realise that it is okay for you to be sad, and that makes you even sadder.
Grimacing slightly, you lift your hand to touch your scalp. You miss your hair. That's another thought that makes you everything but happy, so you sniff and put your arm to rest beside you once again.
Ron. Ron used to be here. He used to be here, there and everywhere, and as smoke descends over you and your voice doesn't carry, he is nowhere to be seen, is he? So maybe he wasn't there at all, even in the beginning.
You chuckle out loud, coughing and rasping, because that is quite silly of you to think. Of course Ron was there! Who else made you cry so many times? Sometimes you cried because you loved him and sometimes because you hated him - only you never did hate him, did you?
No, you didn't, you conclude. You were only irritated and didn't want to be bothered.
Your leg prickles so you scratch it gingerly.
Suddenly you feel drops of water on your face. Grinning widely, you mumble,
I'm singing in the rain, just singing in the rain… what a glorious feeling, I'm happy again…
Only it isn't that glorious, is it?
You are completely alone, even though you can hear screams around you. Above you there is nothing but smoke, grey skies and the occasional bolt of colour – green or red, mostly – and you find it beautiful. You realise you're still humming,
I'm laughing at clouds, so dark up above… the sun's in my heart, and I'm ready for love…
If only Ron were here, you think. And that is quite beautiful too, in a way. The longing and passion you feel for Ron. And even more beautiful is the love he feels for you.
Because you know he loves you, as a friend and then even more. And you are a very, very lucky girl and you know you are. After all, that poor Lavender Brown girl almost stole him away from you.
Luckily Ron appreciates the meaning behind evil yellow canaries.
How you cried that night. You had never cried as much before as you did that night. And you haven't cried that much since. Until tonight, perhaps.
Oh. Had you been crying today? This wonderful, peaceful day! Had you been unhappy today?
You slowly turn your head to your side and are met with a blank face and empty eyes.
Your heart stops.
You have seen those eyes many times before. It is not impossible that you have dreamt about them. And that pattern of brown freckles that trace the nose and cheeks. You have seen that pattern before and it is not impossible that you have seen them when you were lying on wet grass looking at stars. Also, you have seen that shade of red before. It is not impossible that you have seen a pair of ears accompany it in the exact same hue. Perhaps after you kissed them.
Your heart has begun to race now. This isn't how it happens. Or did it already?
No. No, this isn't it, because in the end it's supposed to be you and Ron and Harry and Ginny and lots of love and babies.
You miss your mother, you suddenly realise as you look into its dead eyes. Because it isn't him anymore, is it? He never looked at you like that.
No, you miss your mother. Even though she never even wore a flowered apron or baked, you still miss her so much you can't think of anything else (why is it staring at me?) and you remember the time they got you an electric toothbrush.
Ron had called it eclectic. And then, after you corrected him, he said,
Electric or eclectic, your teeth don't need a new bloody muggle thing because they're fine as they are.
And you answered,
But Ron, it is very effective and it's much quicker than a regular toothbrush. I would gain up to five minutes more to read before I go to sleep.
Then he had kissed you and told you that he loved you, and you never really understood why.
But now you did, because your mother always said you don't earn love, you receive love, (oh God, it really is him, isn't it?) and you get it now. Ron love (loved) you because he had love to give which was meant for you only.
You sigh heavily and lift your arm from under you. Then you lay your palm on your beloved's cheek and stroke it with your thumb. He hasn't shaved in two days (oh God, he's really gone) and it stings your palm, but you don't mind because it is (was) him.
Not hearing screams anymore, you understand that you have nothing left to fear because this is nothing but the next great adventure, as a wise white bearded wizard told you once (what was his name?) and you smile.
You drag your body the inches you need to kiss your lover, and the amazing thing is that your body doesn't hurt anymore. So you lean forward and touch your lips to his (he is so cold, he must be freezing) and you remember. For a glorious moment, you remember.
The last time you kissed him you were standing behind Harry and Ginny (they look so happy) in the frontline of a battle that none of you should have had to be part of anyway. He smiled at you, and his eyes were calm, and he kissed you the way he always did, making your legs turn to liquid. Your legs were always weak when he touched you.
You laugh and let go with your lips against his.
I will see you soon, love.
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