AN I must apologise for how long it has taken me to update. I have been very busy becoming a published author on Amazon Kindle, where The Dawn, which is a take on one of my other stories (The Girl) has just been published! I am very excited as it is the first of a series of four books and up to now is selling very well :-). I will do my best to keep posting MofP too though. Thanks for the reviews/favourites x
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HPOV
For the next few days I occupied myself with catching up on my lectures, though I opted out of Experimental Magic lectures, taking on Potions instead. This was great because it meant that I was with Bella and Edward. I saw him watching her whenever he thought no one was watching. There was something in his gaze which gave me pause to think; sadness almost as he looked at her. And longing that made me shiver with foreboding.
When I was back in the apartment, I commandeered the study area and spread out the scrolls and books I had located in the library to read up on the things Harry and I had talked about. And Harry... he came round every day. It was as if he wanted to make up for the last couple of years.
"Hermione!" His voice infiltrated my thoughts and I looked round quickly to see him walking across the apartment, with Bella behind him. She rolled her eyes.
"Caught him loitering on the corridor," said Bella. "Jeez, Harry, you've turned into a stalker!"
As she disappeared into her room I smiled at Harry apologetically.
"I don't think she's quite forgiven you yet," I said, quietly. He sighed and ducked his head.
"I haven't forgiven myself," he replied.
"Well, I've found a few things..." I started to say, wanting to change the subject, but he stopped me, grabbing my hands.
"'Mione, I need to talk to you," he said. I looked away from him, away from the intensity in his gaze, but Harry gently placed a hand on my cheek, turning me towards him. There was sadness in his eyes. "It's two years since... since the memorial service. Professor Aro has asked me to organise another memorial; to remember those who died. He suggested you might help me with it. I completely understand if you would rather not..."
"A memorial of the memorial?" I said, trying to keep the emotion from my voice.
"Hermione, don't do that," he said.
"What?"
"It's me; you don't need to hide how you feel from me..."
"Harry, I've had to hide how I feel for so long I don't know how to show my emotions anymore. When you saw me on the corridor looking at Ron's picture..." I swallowed the lump of grief in my throat hard, remembering the man I had loved so much and remembering how Harry had almost sneered to find me there. I saw pain register briefly on his face and then he ducked his head.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said. "I had no right to disparage your grief."
I didn't reply, as pain ripped through me; an agony that I always held at bay by losing myself in study or more recently in the bloodletting with Professor Caius. It took all of the control I had left to steady myself and then I glanced across at Harry.
"The day the Dementors came... Ron had told me that everything would be alright. You had vanished without a trace and I thought you were never coming back. The despair... Merlin it was too much to bear. And it drew them like moths to the flame. Molly had been attacked by Bellatrix... she was near death and the Weasleys were probably an easy target; Fred had just died and Molly was close to death. The Dementors surrounded them and I saw him... I saw Voldemort laughing. He thought he had destroyed you and he could see that they were next. One of the Dementors... it was so close I could feel its breath like ice on my face; its eyes burning inside the hood. I was so frightened. I thought that was it; that I was going to die. And then Ron... he launched himself in front of me. He had just seen his brother die and then his mother... the pain, oh Harry the pain... it was so intense... it was so hard..." I broke off as the sobs came. "Ron..." The name escaped my lips and I felt the room lurch around me as the grief pressed in from all sides, shattering my soul into so many pieces that I could not breathe. The air left my lungs and I was gasping; the agony ripping through my heart until all I heard was screaming.
"What the hell did you do to her?" Bella's voice cut through and I heard a slapping sound. When I turned, Bella was holding me and Harry was rubbing his red cheek, his face flushed and angry.
"I didn't do anything," he said, snappily, before he looked across at me, the anger dying to be replaced with concern.
"'Mione, it's ok, I'm here," said Bella, soothingly, rubbing my arms with her hands. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but the tears wouldn't stop. After nearly two years of holding them back, only crying when I was completely alone, the grief was overwhelming; the loss of Ron and all the others who had perished creating an endless chasm of anguish. All I wanted was to fall into that chasm; to embrace the sorrow; to feel it overwhelm me. "Go on, cry, sweetheart." Her voice murmured in my ears and she clasped me tighter. Harry got up and stood at the side of us uncertainly.
"Harry," I managed to say a little breathlessly and then I held my arms out towards him. Bella stepped back and watched as my friend seized me in a fierce embrace, holding me tightly against his chest until finally my tears dried. And then the three of us sat in silence that hummed around us, waiting for one of us to speak; for one of us to break that painful quiet.
"I'll make tea," said Bella suddenly. A small smile lit my face for a brief moment and then I giggled.
"Oh Bella, you sound so... so British," I said.
"She slaps like an American," grumbled Harry. Bella shot him a guilty look.
"Sorry about that, Harry. I just heard Hermione and I thought... well it doesn't matter what I thought now I guess. I'll be back in a minute."
She headed away leaving Harry and I alone. I looked at my friend and gave him a watery smile.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know what came over me," I said.
"Don't be daft," he said. "You have nothing to apologise for. The number of times I have wept like that... Sometimes it hits you and then it's hard to stem the tide. I shouldn't have asked you about the memorial..."
"Of course you should have," I said, picking up my quill and a stack of paper. "Now, we should really start to organise this properly. I think perhaps we need to decide on a colour scheme; I know for a fact that the dean will request something that does not allow for house colours..."
"Black is our way isn't it?"
"I'm not sure about black, Harry. Ron always hated black. He preferred brighter colours..." I contemplated this for a moment and then smiled. "White."
"Sorry?"
"It is the colour for purity and hope, Harry. We should have everyone in white. White flowers, white decorations..." I paused; he was smiling at me, a sad smile that I had missed so much. Suddenly he grabbed my hands in both of his.
"I knew you could help me, Hermione," he said. "You're so much better at all of this than I am."
I made notes on everything we would need to prepare and then handed it to Harry. He took the paper and rolled it into a scroll, then tapped me on the head with it.
"I'll take this to Professor Marcus and you should get an early night."
"Thanks, Harry," I said, with a grateful smile.
"No, thank you," said Harry. "You're brilliant, Hermione."
XXX
"You're brilliant, Hermione." Ron's eyes are ablaze with pride and love as he looks at me. His smile is filled with adoration and then he leans in to kiss me. The feel of his lips pressing against mine is so perfect, so natural that I am lost in them for a moment.
And then I remember.
"Oh, Ron, you're dead," I hear myself saying. Ron smiles again, sadly.
"I know I am 'Mione. I'm sorry. I just wanted to protect you, but I ended up hurting you. All I could think was at least you would live... at least you would be safe."
"But I didn't want to lose you," I murmur. He leans across and kisses my cheek.
"But you haven't lost me. I am still here." His hand closes over my heart and he meets my eyes. "Hermione, I need for you to listen to me. I know I can be a dumb git at times, but I mean this. Me and you... we were perfect together and I love you more than anything, but there's something you should know; something you need to know."
"Ron..." He places a finger on my lips.
"Just for once I want you to listen," he says. With a sigh, I fall silent and he removes his finger. "Everything happens for a reason; you always used to say that. Sometimes even really horrible things happen for a reason. I died so that you could live but you must never ever feel guilty about that. Harry is the Boy Who Lived and you are the Girl Who Lived. My girl who lived. The world needed you more than me."
"How can you say that?" I ask, feeling tears stinging my eyes.
"Because it is true and because I love you. I know you love me too Hermione and you always will, but someone else is waiting for you. He's a total git but he is your soul mate. And you have to believe me when I tell you that." He pauses and I look at him, expecting to see anger or hurt, but there is only gentle acceptance that hurts more than blind fury would have. His eyes shine with love as he reaches across to take my hands. "It's really weird, 'Mione. When you die, you lose the anger and the hurt and you see things more clearly. You love me and that is enough. And I love you so much that all I want is to see you happy. If that miserable git Harry tries to come between you tell him I'll come back and haunt him."
The threat makes me giggle a little and he smiles warmly.
"Tell him that Ron says he needs to move on too. Ginny is happy; we all are. And one day he will meet his soul mate too. She is waiting for him and when the time is right she will appear. But you have to tell him about you and Malfoy before it is too late, because if he finds out by accident it will be harder for both of you."
"But there's nothing to tell," I protest.
"Not yet, but there will be. Tell him if he doubts you to remember the last day of the battle, when Malfoy led the first years away. Tell him to remember that one of the children said that Malfoy was his saviour. Harry Potter was not the only saviour in that war; all of you who fought were."
"You are my saviour, Ron."
"Tell him that too," says Ron, with a broad smile but then he starts to fade.
XXX
"How did you find me?" His voice was not particularly welcoming, but I ignored it as I dropped into the seat opposite him. I withdrew the Marauder's Map and waved it at him. He scowled and drained his glass, getting to his feet. Catching his arm, I stopped him as he went to move away from me. His silver eyes narrowed and he looked down at me, his expression unreadable. "I wouldn't if I were you, Granger."
"Wouldn't what?" I asked. He glared at me.
"Start anything you might not be able to finish," he replied.
"Who says I can't finish it?" I tilted my chin up and gave him a defiant look. His gaze became more intense and then he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me behind him and up a flight of stairs, out of the bar area and to the bedrooms above. Slamming the door behind him and muttering a spell which sealed the door and secured the room he released me and then whirled round to face me, a furious expression on his face.
"What are you playing at, Granger?"
"I saw Ron," I said, quickly. Draco's face paled and he turned away from me, removing his cloak slowly and then sitting in the chair, placing his ankle on the opposite knee and regarding me steadily.
"And you thought this would be relevant to me because?"
"Why do you always do that?" I asked, frustrated.
"Do what?"
"Pretend that you don't care when I know full well you do."
"Really? And whatever gave you that idea?" he drawled, his expression not altering. I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back against the door, returning his gaze steadily.
"When Ron was killed it was you that dragged me away before the Dementor could get me," I said. There was a brief flicker in his gaze, but he hid it quickly, shrugging. "And you sought me out that night at the party when you kissed me. Not to mention saving me from your uncle..."
"Well that was just bloody stupid, Granger!" he said. Finally I had a reaction from him and I seized on it.
"You were contemplating letting him take your blood too..."
"No," he said, firmly. "My presence was strictly to protect you. I had no intention of giving him any of my blood, not when I discovered he was not using it to help you."
"You do care then," I whispered. Malfoy sighed deeply.
"What did Weasel want?" he asked.
"Ron wanted to pass on a message," I replied, defensively.
"And why would anything he has to say interest me, dead or alive when he said it?"
"Because he told me he loves me but he was never my soul mate," I blurted. Draco became very still and then he got to his feet so fast that I gasped when he grabbed hold of me, leaning down so that I felt his breath against my cheek.
"And who does the Weasel think is your soul mate?" he asked, softly.
"You already know," I whispered. His grip on my arms stilled and then he leaned back so that he could look me in the eye.
"You have no idea what you are getting yourself into, Granger," he breathed, leaning in slightly so that his lips were almost brushing mine
"When has that ever stopped me?" I asked, bringing my arms up to his shoulders. Our eyes met and I leaned towards him, closing the small gap between us. As our lips crashed together, his eyes closed first and his hands moved down to my waist, until he was embracing me, holding me tightly against him.
"You're an idiot, Granger," he murmured, pressing his forehead against mine when we finally came up for air.
"I'll have you know I am the brightest in my year group, Malfoy," I replied and he laughed softly.
"You don't change, do you?"
"Would you want me to?" I asked. he kissed me again and then leaned back to look at me.
"No; I would never want you to change. But you might want me to." The last was murmured so softly I nearly missed it, but before I could comment his lips claimed mine again and he pulled me towards the bed.