Pride is still aiming at the best houses: Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell; aspiring to be angels men rebel. – Alexander Pope


I wasn't feeling that great at myself.

I just wanted to die of embarrassment. The ground should just open and swallow me whole.

Anybody could say that after all that had happened during that long,
terrible night, we would be mourning, or boiling in anger, or at least
staring numbly outside like some of the people on the Hospital Wing
were doing.

Not me, no. I just wanted to go away and forget Dumbledore was death and that there was a possibility for Bill Weasley to become what I was. But above it all, I wanted to forget what she had just yelled and how utterly stupid I had been.

I wanted to pretend the words had been yelled by somebody else, I wanted to get out of my skin and away from him. And, in the meantime, it would be great as well if I could forget Dumbledore was dead and we were left without a leader.

After Harry left the room, I looked at my feet, unsure of what to do next, whishing that I could just stay there and actually do nothing for a while.

I could not stay put, not when everybody in the room was taking hidden glances at us. Without saying a word I opened the door of the Hospital wing, half wishing somebody would stop me.

I did not need the sound of the door to realise she was going. I was tuned to her every move and I had practically felt she was going to leave before she even did. And yet, I did nothing to stop her.

I tried to convince myself it was better this way, away from him. The cold air and the darkness were soothing my temper and I could almost forget the shame and the fury. I knew I would never forget him, so I did not even try.

We could not stop thinking about the other; it was so pointless to even try.
Even at the light of the past months and the recent events, we had learned
to be the two of us even when there was no such a thing.

I wished I had been the first one going out; now whatever I would do would look as if I was following her.

I wished I had stayed; now if I came back it would look as if I was still looking for him and that would just be too much.

All the yelled and whispered words, the brief proximity of our bodies,
her eyes, his lips, something had shifted again between us but it seemed
we were not ready to acknowledge it yet. Not with everything that had
happened.

So, all dignity forgotten, I went and hide, knowing perfectly well that that was what I was doing and not really caring. My room at the Hog's Head was not exactly comfortable, and not even close to nice, but it had been home for a while now, it was the one place I could go to and curl over, and wish for everything to be just a terrible nightmare and for me to stop feeling this insignificant.

Minerva offered me a room inside the castle and, for a moment, I considered on taking it. It would be intelligent to stay close-by, just in case. I refused though. Something strong inside me was yelling I needed to be elsewhere, and I knew perfectly well where that was. I was not worthy, though, not good enough to even think about going to her.

Somehow I found myself walking to Hogsmeade, all tiredness of the recent fight apparently forgotten, replaced by some sort of certainty that did not allowed second thoughts.

I was going to ignore the knocking on the door but, after everything that had happened, I knew it could be something important. I would have never guessed though, that I would find him.

We looked at one another for what felt like a very long time,
without saying a word.

I had already talked too much and needed him to be the one this time.

Out of lack of use, my brain seemed unable to form the right thing for me to say.

"Nymphadora."

"Don't call me Nymphadora."

And we both knew we were heading to the right track again.

"Was it true what you said…?"

"Have I ever lied to you about a thing?"

"Never. You've always been just too honest with me, even though I don't deserve it."

"Maybe it's been a tad too much honesty. I'm sorry about what just happened over there."

"Don't be."

I did not know what to say to that.

Her silence, her blushed expression she would not or could not morph away, her looking so frail… without knowing how, I was hugging her.

His scent, his body, his slight uncertainty, it all took me by surprise but my arms were around his body a hear-beat later, enjoying the feeling.

We raised our heads and looked at each other.
All the fears we had had looked so insignificant, so useless
and unworthy. There we were, wanting this to happen and,
finally, having run out of reasons why it should not.

I bent down and kissed her, for once feeling strong enough to do that, without fearing I would hurt her any further. I could not, I would not.

I felt his lips on mine and all those feelings of being insignificant went away. This was the right thing; we were just right like this.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't say that."

"I… I thought…"

"I know…"

It was her proximity, the certainty that, amongst everything going on, all the evil and unfairness outside, there was something true in my life and it was her… a wild idea crossed my mind.

"Marry me."

"Yes."

I prompted, without really considering the question, almost as if I was expecting it, almost as if I had known all along that it was to this that we had been heading all along.

"Yes?"

"Yes."

The next time we hold hands we felt like the single strongest
thing in the world. We, belonging to one another, ready
to face whatever might be there waiting for us, being sure that
this, us, would make us better, would allow us to be what we
had ought to be from the start.