Innocence of Hope
by Camilla Sandman
Author's Note: For avendyna, as requested.
II
Ron is, all things considered, not surprised to find Hermione in the library. She finds in books the frames of her life, the words like lanterns illuminating her path. He envies her that, but just barely. He has slowly begun to understand the books are something else to her as well, something less innocent.
She is the child of two Muggles, and in the wizarding world, that can often matter. Not to him, never to him. But he is not the whole of her world. And the world will wonder what kind of witch she is with her blood as it is.
She's chosen words and grades to prove herself. He's not sure what he will choose yet to show himself in the crowd that is his family. But he knows he will want to jinx anyone who thinks any less of her for what she is.
He stands still for a moment, just looking at her, the light falling across her skin. He feels suddenly older, feeling colour crawl to his cheeks as he remembers their many fights this year. They all seem like child's play now, like yanking her hair to see if she'd chase him.
He puts all thoughts of yanking her hair out of his mind before he feels any temptation at all.
Her hair is unkempt today, falling around her as almost as a cape. It seems flatter than usual, as if the sense of gloom has seeped into it. A sense of gloom has seeped into everything, even the walls of the castle.
Without Dumbledore, it all seems less.
"Do I have a wart on my nose since you're staring?" she says sharply, her eyes still on the book before her.
"No, I just…" He bites back his silly reply and slinks down on the bench opposite her. "What's that you're reading?"
For a moment, she seems to debate whether or not to answer, then her shoulders sink slightly. "It's a Muggle story. Lord of the Rings. It's about a Fellowship trying to defeat a Dark Lord by destroying his most powerful artefact, but they've just lost their wizard, their guide. Gandalf."
There is grief in her words, dark and despairing and it cuts into him as sharply as the words to an Unforgivable Curse.
"Of course, the real story is quite different," she goes on, still not looking at him. "I looked it up when I came to Hogwarts. Gandalf never died, he just Apparated. But I still prefer the Muggle version."
"Why?"
"Because in it he did die in it and came back even greater. And they defeated the Dark Lord, with Gandalf still alive."
He understands as she finally looks up at him, tears clinging to her lashes. He wants to wipe them away, kiss them away, kiss her grief away and be her whole world until tomorrow. But he feels as clumsy as a Quidditch Bludger, bringing destruction with it. Harry might know what to say, but Ron has never felt a master of words.
"Herm, you know Dumbledore can't…" he starts gently and her eyes fire up with anger, not quite directed at him.
"I know!" she snaps. "I know! But I can still hope."
Tomorrow, hope will be dead, they both know. Tomorrow, Dumbledore will be buried. But for now, for a brief, shining moment of last innocence, maybe there is still life.
They look at each other for a moment and he feels an understanding form between them, a rock they can both stand on as the storms of a dark future rages around. One day, he will kiss her. One day, she will catch him and he will catch her and maybe there's hope in that too. Maybe there's hope beyond innocence.
"Read it with me?" she asks.
"Yes," he says, and his hand covers hers, an anchor of skin as the day slowly wander to its death.
FIN