Well, I'm back. Sorry for the long delay. I'm well and alive, but I had a little 'accident' with my right thumb that involved the door of my car, and using a computer has been rather difficult, so publishing hasn't been on my mind. That is, also, the reason why I didn't reply to the reviews this time. Sorry for that.

As always, thanks to Kathyand here it is the chapter.


PART III

TALES OF ETERNAL FIGHTS

Chapter 28

After Twenty-four Years


No one said anything for a few moments. Then, Hermione's mother moved towards the stairs, but was stopped by Ron, who put a hand on her right shoulder.

"No," he told her. "She's closed the door magically."

Harry watched them, not knowing how he felt. Ron was back, and was not just Ron, his best friend, but someone different, older, infinitely wiser and more powerful.

"She's hurt," Hermione's mother said. "She hasn't been the same since —"

"— Since I left, I know," Ron finished for her. "I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"No!" Ginny yelled. "Ron, what choice did you have? And I'm sure Hermione knows that. I suppose she's — she's just —"

"Overwhelmed," finished Harry. Because that was how he felt, too.

"I didn't say I had hurt her intentionally. But I'm the reason she's suffering."

"She's strong," Hermione's father said, his eyes fixed on Ron. "I'm glad you're all right, Ron. You know we consider you a son. I'm sorry for what you had to endure. But at least I know that what Hermione suffered during these months was for a good reason."

Ron nodded.

Silence.

"You — you said we were going to regain control of the Ministry," Harry said a bit awkwardly, after a while. "But — what about Sbalkal? Will he allow it?"

"He doesn't care," Ron said.

"What!?" Harry asked. "But —"

"His top priority is recovering completely and killing me," explained Ron. "He doesn't mind that we regain control of the Ministry for a while. If he kills me, he'll have everything. In fact, I'm a bit surprised he's put so much effort in taking over the world," he added.

"So you've got to fight him again?" Mrs Weasley asked, terrified.

"Yes."

"Do you have to do it alone? Can't anyone help you?"

Ron shook his head. "Magic is useless against him now. We are the last Masters of Essence, and if I don't kill him, nobody will."

"Oh, Ron ...!"

"It's okay, Mum," he said, and smiled at her. "I've accepted it. I'm older and readier, than Harry was when he went into the forest to face death. And I don't intend to die," he added quickly, before his mother could say anything. He looked at Harry, and grinned. And despite the sadness in it, it was Ron's grin, and Harry realised how much he had missed it. "We're doomed to be heroes, eh?" he said in a joking tone. But there was no true humour in his words, and both knew it.

"We are," Harry said back. Ron was so different that his familiar attempt to lower tension with jokes was more than welcomed. He returned the smile, but, almost immediately, an idea struck him, and he turned serious once more. "Ron, you helped us in the war. But why? I mean, killing Voldemort was just making Sbalkal stronger."

"He would have been defeated eventually," said Ron. "He had to be destroyed. He was a murderer and a tyrant. If you think about it, it was a bloody good plan. Defeating Voldemort would mean giving Sbalkal power, but letting him be would mean a madman ruling the world."

Harry nodded. "Yes, you're right."

"He's not really dead, you know," Ron added.

"WHAT!?" everyone asked at the same time.

"What — what do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Only his body is dead. Technically he isn't. And neither are the Attackers."

"But — didn't you say —?" Harry asked.

"Their souls are still here, bound to Sbalkal, as if he was a Horcrux for them. But instead of attached to one piece, he dominates the entire part of their souls that determine our abilities and let us interact with our bodies and the rest of the Universe, what we call sôhr. The cores of their souls, that make them be who they are, are somewhat free, but for them that is worse than death, without control of their sôhr, they're forever trapped in half-existence, until Sbalkal himself dies."

"But that's — that's 'orrible!" Fleur exclaimed.

"It is," Ron said. "Though not undeserved." He looked at Harry. "Can you come with me? Outside?" he asked.

"Er — yeah," Harry said, nodding.

"We'll be back in a minute," Ron said, and he walked out. After a moment, Harry followed him.

When he got out of the house, it took him a few seconds to locate Ron, dressed as he was in black clothes, as night had almost fallen. He was staring at Sbalkal's men, who were lying on the ground, in three rows, forming a rectangle, still unconscious. Near them, there were three bodies, covered by white sheets that stood out in the darkness.

"They — they won't wake up?" Harry asked, feeling strange and not knowing what to say.

"Not for now, but anyway, it doesn't matter. They can't move."

"Oh. That's good."

Ron moved a bit, until he was in front of the three sheet-covered bodies.

"Wilson is dead, too. Another Auror," he commented sadly.

"I know," Harry said. "But he looked for it, associating himself with Sbalkal and his men."

"I know. I never liked him, you know. I hated him, but I don't anymore. He was wrong about many things, but still he was a person, who had dreams and hopes. He loved people, and there are people who loved him and will be desolated when they know he's dead."

Harry didn't know what to say.

"Everyone has to die, but no one should die this way."

"Yeah," said Harry, not knowing what to add to that. Ron turned round and looked at him, and for a few seconds they just stared at each other. And then Ron let out a mirthless chuckle. Harry frowned, not understanding.

"This feels strange, doesn't it?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed.

"I'm sorry, Ron," he said. "I —" he shook his head. "I suppose this is not how you imagined coming back. Certainly, it wasn't how I imagined you coming back."

"The truth is that this is, except for Sbalkal's men's presence, how I expected it would be, more or less. Besides, being a Master of Essence implies that there are fewer surprises."

Harry stared at him. "Do you mean you can predict the future? You know what I'll say?"

"Predict ... in a way," said Ron. "Some things are easier to predict than others. Human behaviour is the most difficult. In the end everything in the Universe can be affected by everything else, so the only way to make exact predictions is by knowing the state of the whole Universe, which I don't. But I know what I am, how shocked I was when I discovered all this, even though part of me was prepared to know about it. I know how you feel."

"Yeah ..." said Harry, feeling uncomfortable, and the feeling grew when he realised Ron knew that he felt uncomfortable. "About that ... you can read my thoughts. I don't even need to answer."

"I can," said Ron. "But I try not to. I can't avoid it completely, though. In a way, it's like hearing. You can avoid listening, or not pay attention, but you still hear. I don't know what you're thinking right now, but I know you feel a bit awkward and uncomfortable."

"Sorry, Ron — it's —"

"I know. I didn't like the idea of Anwar knowing everything I felt. But that's what we are. I suppose I understand why they hid and lived alone. Though of course, I learned during these years that we are never alone. I feel so connected to everything, Harry ... I feel so ... alive. I'm old, and yet I feel so young. In a way, even younger than before. There are so many things to see and to learn out there ..."

Harry didn't say anything.

"When he told me about me being immortal, the idea scared me," Ron confessed, looking away. "Thinking of you all dying while I kept living ... I thought I could resist it. But now, now I think I couldn't resist it. It would hurt, but my will to live is so strong now ... That doesn't mean I wouldn't die without a second thought to save and protect you," he added, turning to face Harry once more.

"I — I don't know what to say," confessed Harry.

"Never mind," Ron said. "I brought you out here because I wanted to thank you, Harry."

"Thank me?" Harry asked, astounded. "What for?"

"For being there for Hermione in the most important moment of her life, when Rose was born. For taking care of her. For being by her side."

"Ron, Hermione is my family. You don't have to thank me."

"I know, but I still want to do it. She and Rose are the most important things in my life. Even now," he said, his voice filled with sadness.

"Ron, she —" he gulped. "She loves you. It's just — this is so sudden, and too shocking. I suppose none of us knows how to react."

"I know she loves me. I've changed, though. And I can't ask her to share her life with someone who can always know what she wants or what she feels. It wouldn't be fair. Everyone deserves a bit of privacy."

"What — what are you trying to say? That you're going to — to break up with her?" Harry asked.

"Are we still a couple?" Ron said. "It's been six months for her, and twenty-four years for me. I don't know what we are." He sighed. "Know what? Sbalkal told me that my love for her was selfish. I didn't like to hear it, but he was right. But I'm willing to be selfless now, Harry. I want her to be happy, and I don't know if I can make her happy anymore. Whatever she wants, I'll accept it."

Harry stared at him, open-mouthed. He wanted to ask Ron if he still loved her, and what he did want, but couldn't utter the words. The idea of Ron and Hermione breaking up had never crossed his mind after they had gotten together. They were made for each other. Them breaking up was not possible ... and yet neither was the idea of an immortal and almost almighty Ron, and here he was.

Ron must have noticed how taken aback Harry was, because he grinned at him as if everything were okay.

"By the way, congratulations on your promotion, even if it wasn't in the best of circumstances."

It took a few seconds for Harry to be able to speak. "No, it wasn't in the best of circumstances. I suppose you know what Sbalkal did to Blevelty and his daughter, don't you?"

Ron clenched his jaw and nodded.

"Yeah. He was a good man. I can't blame him. I let Sbalkal escape to save you, knowing that it could mean the death of many people in the future."

"I saw his wife and daughter, once, after the destruction of Azkaban." Harry shook his head. "They —"

"I know," Ron said, interrupting him. "I feel it all the time."

They both fell silent for a while. Then Harry looked his old friend in the eye. "It wasn't the same without you, Ron. A year ago, the office felt a bit like home, but not anymore. Without Julie, Terry, you and the others ... now it's a strange place. Or was, while I still worked there. I've missed you, Ron. I — I know things are a bit tense, but we want you here, with us. Whatever you have become, you're still my best mate."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then, Harry didn't know how, they were embracing.

"I know," Ron said. "I've missed you, too."

They broke apart. Ron looked at the house, and Harry's eyes followed his gaze. Ginny was at the door, looking at them.

"Now that the initial shock of my return has faded, they're probably going to thank me for what I did to Sbalkal's men," Ron commented.

"As they should," Harry said. "And I want to thank you, too. You saved my son, Ron."

"I did. But it was because of me that they attacked you."

"How many times did your family get in trouble because of me?" Harry replied. "And still your mother thanked me when I saw your father being attacked by Nagini."

Ron stared at him. "I know." He let out a small chuckle and shook his head, and Harry stared at him, confused. "It's true. I know that. But hearing you say it is completely different. I am a Master of Essence. Your words shouldn't affect me, but they do. And I am glad for it."

Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"You stood by my side when I faced my enemy, Ron. And I'll be by yours when you face your own. It doesn't matter that I can't do anything. You'll know I am there, supporting you. It made all the difference to me knowing that you all were with me, eight years ago."

"Thanks, Harry." He looked at the house again. "Let's get back inside," he suggested.

When they walked in, Ron made his way towards Audrey, who was sitting next to Percy, her daughter in her arms. He crouched down in front of them.

"Hey, little Molly," he said, touching the baby's nose. The baby wrapped her tiny fingers around his large one, and he smiled. "I'm pleased to finally meet you."

"Finally?" repeated Percy, not understanding.

"Even though I couldn't be there physically, I wasn't going to miss the birth or my second niece," Ron said.

"Ron ..." Audrey muttered. He looked up at her. "Thank you," she said. "For saving us. And our children."

"You don't have to thank me."

"But we want to," Percy said. "Thank you, Ron."

Ron just nodded, and fixed his eyes on Molly once more.

"Ron," Percy added after a few seconds, adopting a business-like tone Harry knew too well. "What should we do now? I mean, with the prisoners. And then there are those Aurors. Their families must be informed."

"Yes," said Ron, and stood up. "The prisoners can be left there for the time being. They won't go anywhere. Harry, Neville, Percy, you can fetch the others and go to the Ministry to regain control. You can take one or two of them to show people they're defeated."

"Why can't we take them all to Hornwall?" asked Mr Weasley. "You know, that castle in Wales we established as prison when —"

"I know," interrupted Ron." But that's not their place. That prison is not secure enough. I'll rebuild Azkaban."

"WHAT!?" Bill asked. "Rebuild Azkaban? But Ron, the island is almost destroyed, and the fortress was too big. That could take months, or years."

"I can do it," said Ron. "The destruction of the fortress was just a physical process and can easily be reverted. It'll take time and power, but it's not difficult. Even the bodies of the prisoners and the guards will be — well, repaired. This way at least their families will be able to bury them properly. I can't bring them back to life."

"Okay," accepted Harry. He was as amazed as everyone else, but didn't want Ron to feel uncomfortable with questions that would emphasise his new nature.

"But Harry, no one will be at the Ministry. It's too late," pointed out Ginny.

"We can talk to as many people as we can," said Harry. "And tomorrow we'll be there first thing in the morning."

"Good," Ron said.

"Are you coming with us?" Harry asked Ron. "Everyone will be ecstatic to see you, and will give them confidence."

"No," said Ron.

"What are you going to do, then?" Mr Weasley asked. "Wait here? Go to Azkaban?"

"I've got to take care of the Muggles, make them forget about the explosion that sent me to the past before things get out of control."

"Do you need help with that?" Angelina asked. "To put Memory Charms on them?"

"No, I can do it quicker on my own," said Ron. "But thanks."

"We should go to the Prophet, too," added Ginny. "People should know what happened."

"Yes, that too," said Ron.

"Okay," said Harry, content. Things were moving again, and finally they could do something to stop Sbalkal. "Neville, can you contact people at Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes."

"Let's go, then!" He headed for the door, but, before walking out, he threw a glance at Ron.

I'm really glad you're back, mate.

— — o — —

Hermione was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, though not seeing. The room was in complete darkness. She had breastfed Rose and then put her in her cot, and now the little child was making little noises, half-awake, half-asleep. Hermione, however, barely heard her. Her mind was far, far away. For over an hour, she had been replaying her life before Hogwarts and at the school. She thought about the life she had shared with Ron, a life she didn't know if she would get back.

She loved Ron. Of course she did. She had loved him even before knowing what being in love meant. Her love life was basically Ron. Oh, she had had crushes, yes, before and after meeting him. When she was eleven, the year before going to Hogwarts, she had been completely infatuated with a cute guy from a TV show whose name she no longer remembered. She even had got a poster of him from a magazine, something she had always considered as childish and ridiculous. And so, her pride had stopped her from sharing that crush with other girls that felt the same. Childish or not, that had been the only thing that had made her think she was ... well, normal. She had been a regular girl with a crush and not just a bossy know-it-all with no friends and around whom strange things tend to happen.

But then the school year had ended, and Minerva McGonagall had come home one day, and had explained everything. And, the cute guy forgotten, she had dedicated all her time to learn magic, and then had gone to Hogwarts, hoping that, at last, she would be normal, as the other children in that school were like her.

She had been dead wrong.

Magical children were as childish as Muggle children. They liked to do different things, but in the end it was the same. Again, she had been known as the bossy know-it-all with no friends.

Until Harry and Ron. Ron was probably the most childish boy of their year, and the one who could infuriate her like no else. Oh, Harry infuriated her, too. At first he had seemed to be the most polite and kind of the two, even a bit shy, but he had proven he was almost as much an idiot as Ron, especially with his stupid rivalry with Draco Malfoy. However, what he said didn't affect her as much as Ron did. She didn't understand why Ron got under her skin so easily. Oh, she had met other boys like him, lazy idiots who called her names whenever she tried to help them with school things, or correct them when they were wrong. With time, she had concluded that they didn't like to be shown how stupid they were and had learned to ignore them. But what Ron said affected her much more, and she didn't know why. Maybe because he had been the first wizard — after McGonagall — who had used — or tried to use — magic in front of her?

But when the troll incident happened, she found that Ron was, in, fact, different from those lazy idiots she had met in the past. On one hand, he and Harry had risked their lives to save hers, so, even if just a little, they cared for her. And on the other hand, he had managed to save her with the spell she had taught him how to use. Even if he had got angry at her, he had actually listened to her.

And though she hadn't realised at the time, that night had been the first proof of the fact that Ron wasn't only the one who could make her cry more easily than anyone else, but the one who could put a smile back on her face more easily than anyone.

However, during those first years, she had never, for a single moment, thought that she could have a crush on Ron. She had had a crush on the TV show guy. She developed an equally stupid crush on Lockhart the next year. Those two things were completely different to what she felt for Ron.

For starters, she had developed her crushes almost at first sight. And she had to admit, a bit ashamed, that had had a lot to do with the fact that both were very handsome. However, with Ron it had been a gradual thing. She didn't know when she had fallen in love with him. The first time she had realised that there was something there, had been when McGonagall had announced the Yule Ball. The question 'Whom do I want to go with?' had popped into her mind, and the answer had been almost instantaneous.

Ron.

At first, she had been a bit surprised. But then she had realised that she really had a lot of fun with Ron. Their first visit to Hogsmeade had been one of the best days of her life, and she had found out, after their awful row, that she wasn't happy if Ron was not in her life, making stupid jokes and driving her mad.

However, she had not given the fact a lot of thought. Ron was, after all, one of her best friends. The fact that she didn't like at all that he seemed to drool every time that shallow Fleur Delacour, though she knew Fleur differently now, was within sight meant nothing.

However, when he had said that he wanted to take to the ball the prettiest girl that would have him had hurt her much more than she had expected. But why? Ron was, after all, a fourteen-year-old boy ... And she had had to admit to herself that she was hurt because she wasn't pretty, or girly, and that Ron only saw her as his best friend that happened to be female, and not the way she wanted him to see her, the way she saw him —

That had been the first time the idea that she might fancy Ron had crossed her mind. So yeah, okay, maybe she liked him, and surely she wanted him to take her to the ball, but that wasn't going to happen, so she'd better move on.

And then Viktor had asked her, leaving her completely shocked. Viktor Krum, the famous Quidditch player, pursed by half the girls in Hogwarts, wanted to take her, Hermione Granger, the bossy know-it-all, to the ball.

And she had accepted, still taken aback as she had realised that Viktor really saw her as beautiful. She had to admit that he was chivalrous and charming, so she had let him give her her first kiss, even if she knew, deep down, that this was going nowhere. She had tried for a bit even though they had never really dated, and though she enjoyed his company, he was not Ron. And during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, she had found herself more interested in the wellbeing of Harry and Ron than in Viktor, though it certainly was flattering that she was the thing he would miss the most. And Viktor had even invited her to his house, in Bulgaria, but Hermione could barely pay attention to him, because Fleur Delacour had kissed Ron, her Ron, who looked as if he had earned a million galleons, and she was struggling hard to contain her anger and jealousy. That was when she had finally realised that whatever she had with Viktor was definitely a dead end. She fancied Ron.

She fancied Ron too much.

And then Lavender came, and the dance at the wedding, and them holding hands before falling asleep at Grimmauld Place, and him saving her from Bellatrix's hands, and, finally, the kiss during the final battle. Through it all, Hermione had never known when she had fallen in love. Simply, at one point, she had realised every time she thought about her future and about a family, Ron was there; every time she got aroused, Ron was on her mind; and every time Ron smiled at her, she felt utterly happy.

She felt a pang of heartache remembering the years after the war, thinking of how incredibly happy they had been, and how that had been stolen from them. Ron had had to make a terrible choice, and she no longer knew what to think of him.

Merlin, Ron was immortal! Every time she thought about it, she felt lightheaded. She loved Ron, yes, but this Ron? She loved the Ron who had disappeared six months ago, but for this Ron, that had happened twenty-four years ago. He had lived twenty-four years, alone ...

Thinking about that made her want to scream.

Did this Ron still love her? Could someone with his powers, abilities and knowledge love a human woman? And even if he did, could he be happy with a normal life, like the one they had shared before all this? And even if he could, could she live with him? They knew each other perfectly, and there were no secrets between them. But both of them, like every person, had their private thoughts and their private moments. And that was not possible anymore. She could, no longer, conceal any thought from Ron, and that idea was too scary.

She felt tears pricking her eyes. First Harry, the Chosen One against Voldemort. And now Ron, the Chosen One against Sbalkal. What was the problem with the Universe? Didn't they deserve a happy and normal life? Hadn't they done enough?

The noise of someone knocking at the door startled her.

"I want to be alone!" she shouted.

"I know, but I want to talk to you," Ron said from the other side.

Hermione felt suddenly anxious. She had not expected Ron. It was too soon. What would she say? She still felt too confused!

"Hermione, please, open the door," Ron said.

She hesitated for a moment, and then turned on the lights and lifted the spells. A moment later, the door opened and Ron stepped in.

"You could have easily lifted the spells," commented Hermione a bit awkwardly. Just as the words had left her mouth, she regretted them. She didn't want to sound as if she was jealous of Ron's power. She had always prided herself on her spellcasting, and the fact that now Ron could easily overcome any spell she could cast wasn't easy to accept, but she wasn't jealous of that.

"I could," Ron confirmed. "But I wouldn't do that if you didn't want to see me. I don't like invading people's privacy, Hermione. I try to avoid it as much as I can."

"I wasn't accusing you —" she stated, a bit too defensively.

"I know you weren't," he interrupted her. "But it is natural for you to feel that way. I don't know what you're thinking right now, but it is true that I could if I wanted, and you wouldn't know I'm doing it."

"I think I'd be happy if you didn't tell me that," she said.

"I know, but I want to be completely honest with you," he replied. He sighed. "I do know how you feel, though. It is impossible for me not to notice that. You feel awkward and afraid, and you shouldn't worry about that. It's normal."

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't want to sound so defensive. It's just — I'm really glad you're here, Ron. I don't want you to think I'm not. I was so scared for you, so worried. But these past months were like hell for me. And I know I have to deal with the fact that my husband is twenty-four years older and immortal."

"I know. And I understand; you don't have to apologise."

"I'm very sorry for slapping you, Ron," she apologised again. "It's the last thing you deserved, after everything you had to endure."

"Don't worry about that. You didn't hurt me," he said, his eyes fixed on Rose's cot. He moved slowly towards it and looked down at Rose. He smiled, and she couldn't help a rush of love towards them both. "Can I hold her?" he asked.

"What?" Hermione asked, taken aback by the question. "Ron, you — you needn't ask. She's your daughter as well."

Ron bent over and took the girl in his arms. She looked up at him, and then smiled. Ron's grin widened.

"It's as if she could recognise you," Hermione said, enthralled by the image of father and daughter. She got closer to them.

"In a way, she can," Ron said. "She's part of me, and of you as well. We created her, Hermione. Together."

Hermione stared at Ron. "I know."

"I don't mean biologically," Ron added, and Hermione felt weird hearing Ron utter such a word. "Well, that too. But I was referring to her soul. We created it, Hermione. You see, on the other side of the veil, on the other side of Dimension Zero, there's a great amount of Essence — Essence in its simplest state of vibration, such that it does nothing. And when Rose was conceived, our souls took part of that Essence, and brought it here. And when it crossed the barrier, our souls transformed it into another one. And so our souls are always linked to hers, as part of what we are is in her, too."

"Oh," said Hermione. "That sounds so ... right. Magical," she finished.

"It is more than magical," said Ron. "And it is true. We don't know how it works, though. It's an incredible process, the creation of a soul. Souls are the most wonderful things that can be made with Essence," he explained, his eyes fixed on Rose.

Hermione stared at them for a few seconds.

"You don't know how many times I've dreamed of seeing you with her," she confessed.

"You don't know how much I feared I would never get the opportunity to hold her."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"I knew that, to come back, I'd have to fight Sbalkal first and win. That seemed unlikely to me. And it turned out I was right, unfortunately."

"Ron, I'm so sorry for that. I can't even imagine what you endured ... and then, those twenty-four years alone ..."

"Hermione ..." Ron said.

"It's t-true," she said, and realised she was crying. "Merlin, Ron ... We were equals, weren't we? We complemented e-each other. We had known each other for more than half our lives, had endured the same ordeals, and survived the same dangers. But not anymore. You've spent more time away from me than with me. You're on a — a whole new different level now," she finished, her voice weak, and turned round to wipe out her tears. She heard Ron putting Rose back in the cot.

"I know," Ron said. "Hermione ... do you still love me?"

Her sobs stopped abruptly. She stood still for a few moments, facing away from him.

"Why do you ask questions whose answers you already know?"

"I don't like reading other people's minds, Hermione, I've told you."

"But you can feel it, can't you?"

Hermione took his silence as a 'yes.' She turned round and faced him.

"Of course I love you," she said. "Or maybe it is the idea I've got of you, I don't know. But when I see you now, I feel love. But I also feel awkward. I feel I've got to control my thoughts, Ron, and that's an idea I don't like," she answered honestly.

"I understand."

She dared to look him in the eyes, those blue eyes she loved.

"And you? Do —" she swallowed audibly, "do you still love me? After all these years?"

Ron looked away, and Hermione felt a pang in her heart.

"When I was with Anwar, he told me I should forget about our marriage and our relationship, because it was over. That either we would die at Sbalkal's hands, or, if I became a Master of Essence and won, I'd fall out of love with you." Hermione just stared at him, unable to say anything, because her body was no longer responding to her. Ron let out a sad chuckle. "I got so furious! I told him that I would never, ever stop loving you. He replied that time would prove him right. That when my power grew and I understood what I was, I would no longer be able to be in love with normal people. That one day, I'd discover that, even if I cared for you, I wouldn't be in love with you."

Hermione swallowed the painful lump that had formed in her throat, and forced herself to look at him.

"He was right, wasn't he?" she told him, willing herself not to cry. "You've got those powers, that knowledge. You live forever and I'm — I'm just a mortal witch. Someone insignificant."

"Insignificant?" Ron repeated, frowning. "Insignificant? I left my haven, my hidden place for the first time after Sbalkal increased his powers using Voldemort's soul to save you, Hermione. I risked everything to protect you." He moved a bit closer to her. "Do you remember the night before the trial? When we made love for the last time?"

She nodded. "I do."

"And what did I tell you, Hermione?" he asked.

"That you loved me."

"Yes. And that I wanted you. Always," he added. "Always, Hermione."

"Always," she repeated.

"Always," he said. "And that hasn't changed."

Hermione opened her eyes.

"It — it hasn't?"

"All those years I spent there, I wasn't really alone. During my training, I thought so many times of Anwar, all those years trapped there. But we are never alone. We are so connected to everything ... And I felt connected to you, to Harry, and to my family. I watched us grow up; saw us acting like idiots, Hermione, wasting so much time. I wanted to scream, and to smack myself on the head for being an idiot, for not making the most of the time with you, for wasting it, when the only thing I craved was a second in your presence."

"Ron ..."

"Maybe Anwar was right. Maybe we can't love normal people. But you, Hermione, were never normal. You always were extraordinary to me. You still are. Maybe your knowledge can't impress me now. But I can see your soul. A beautiful, kind and caring soul. You're so strong, and yet vulnerable; so intelligent, and yet afraid of failure; so beautiful ... Maybe it is that I never should have become a Master of Essence, or that I became one too late, or that I was already in love with you when I gained my power... But I haven't, for a single minute, stopped loving you," he said vehemently.

And she couldn't resist it anymore. Before she had realised it, she had flung herself at him and was hugging him as tightly as possible, her face pressed against his chest.

"Ron, Ron, Ron. M-Merlin, Ron, I — I've m-m-missed y-you," she sobbed. "So much. So bloody much."

She felt him put his arms around her. "I know. I know, Hermione. And I've missed you too. Every single minute of every single day."

And then she looked up at him, and he down at her. They locked their gazes for an eternal second, and an instant later they were kissing, passionately, hungrily, desperately ...

Hermione felt something indescribable swell in her chest, an electric current go through her entire body and soul. For a moment, she forgot about everything, about how things were different, about how love might not be enough, and she just focused on the feel of Ron's lips against hers.

Finally, they pulled apart, and she put her head against his chest and remained there, between his arms. Things were not sorted out. There still were so many things that made her feel uneasy, but, for now, she relished in his proximity, in his warm body pressed against hers, and in his arms around her body.

"You're thinner," she commented after a while, and he laughed.

"Yeah, well ... I haven't eaten in twenty-four years."

"You haven't?" Hermione said, moving her head and looking up at his face.

"We don't need to eat, remember?"

"You love food!"

"I suppose that, when you don't need it, it loses its appeal," said Ron, shrugging. "That was something Anwar was right about."

"Oh," she said, feeling sad all of a sudden. It was true that she hated, sometimes, the way he stuffed himself, as if food was going to be forbidden next day. He had improved his manners, yes, but never completely. But now, the idea that he wouldn't do that anymore wasn't enticing. In fact, it felt utterly wrong. 'The most curious thing about the person you're in love with is that you even miss the things you hate of them,' her mother had told her once. And it seemed to be completely true.

She broke apart from him.

"Ron ..." she started to say.

"You need time," he affirmed.

"I —"

"Hermione, you don't need to apologise or explain. I understand. I've changed. And I can do things that you're not comfortable with. Hell, if you could read my mind, I surely would be uncomfortable around you! I love you. And I want you to be happy. We cannot get back together and pretend that nothing has happened. It's not what I want, either. The life we were living ... I don't know if I can live like that again. The way I feel now ... We need to figure this out," he finished.

She looked at him. She didn't know if he really felt that way or was just saying it to make her feel better. The thought was a bit unsettling but, anyway, she felt grateful to him.

"What if — if we can't be happy being apart ... but I'm not comfortable being together? Or if you feel that our life together isn't enough for you anymore?"

"I don't know," he said.

"Well, you're the smarter one now," she said, trying to smile despite that she wanted to cry again. Ron stared at her, and she looked away, blushing. "Sorry. I thought I could make a funny comment. Try to be the one to lower the tension with a joke."

"Hermione, I'm not smarter than you."

"But your knowledge —"

"I've got more knowledge, yes," confirmed Ron. "And so what? Essence gives it to me. I can get it from it. It is true that I can make Essence think for me, help me solve things, but my intelligence depends on my brain and soul, so I am as intelligent as I was, no more, no less. Think of it as if I were connected to the internet," said Ron. "I could get any information, even get help to solve problems. But I wouldn't be more intelligent for it. Do you get it?"

"Yes," she said weakly. They stood in silence for a few seconds, and then she asked. "So — so now what? What are we going to do? About ourselves."

Ron's face turned more serious. "First of all, I've got to kill Sbalkal. It doesn't make sense to make plans about us until that is done."

"But you tried," Hermione said. "And — and he won, Ron. What if —?"

"I'm more powerful now," Ron replied. "And I've learned. I understand things I didn't twenty-four years ago."

"But what if that isn't enough?" she said, voicing her fears.

Ron stared at her so intensely that she had to tear her gaze away.

"It's got to be," he said. "I've got to defeat him, Hermione. The things he said he would do to you all if he kills me ... I can't let him."

Hermione gulped, and nodded. She wanted to change the subject.

"Can — can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Anything."

"Why didn't you come sooner? When Mathery and the others broke into our home?"

"I tried to," said Ron. "But Sbalkal had become more powerful. I had to conceal myself and the dimensional haven I was in, and so it took me longer than I had expected to teleport me here. I felt that he was more alert than usual. I wanted to come here the moment they broke into our house, but because of the measures I had to take, I was late. You see, this is complicated. The timeline must be coherent. I didn't know that concealing my travelling would take so much time. But I knew I would be late, so I tried to be ready and come here when they broke into our house. Teleporting in the way I did so Sbalkal couldn't trace me delayed me, and that's why I ended up arriving when I did. If I had tried to come here when I knew I would arrive, I'd be really late and you would be dead. That wasn't possible, because I remembered you being saved. So you see, I tried to come sooner because I knew I'd be late, and doing so, I arrived at the moment you had told me I'd arrive."

"That's really complicated," said Hermione.

"It is," Ron agreed. "These things gave me a few headaches. But being connected to Essence and having Pyret's knowledge helped me to understand it. I wish I didn't have to understand some, though," he added.

"What do you mean?"

"I let things happen, Hermione. Things I knew should happen so in the end we could win, so we would end up being what we were. And I know it was the right thing to do, and yet ..." he shook his head. "This power, this knowledge, can be an immense burden. You've got to make terrible choices sometimes."

"I'm sorry."

"It's a bit like when we escaped from Lovegood's house. We knew that by doing so we were putting him and Luna in danger, but we did, because it was the right thing to do. The difference is that I feel the consequence of my actions, Hermione. When Sbalkal destroyed Azkaban I had to feel the despair of a mother and a child ... or many mothers and children and families."

"Oh, Ron ..." she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said, shrugging. "There're lots of good things, too. Lots of good things out there, like feeling Rose grow up inside you. There's a lot of love in this world, Hermione, and I promised Anwar I'd protect it."

"And we'll do it," Hermione said, determined. "Whatever we — we are right now, Ron, we are still best friends. And I love you. And we'll face this together, as always."

Ron nodded.

"And what are we going to do, then?"

"I already took care of the Muggles, made them forget about the explosion," explained Ron. "Harry, Neville, Percy and the others have been talking to people. Ginny has contacted some friends from the Prophet. Tomorrow we'll take control of the Ministry. And then I'll have to find Sbalkal as soon as possible and defeat him. His powers grow more quickly than mine, so our time is limited."

"I'm scared, Ron."

"I know. Me too."

Hermione sighed. "We'd better go downstairs. See if the others are there."

"They are," Ron said. "And you haven't had dinner."

"Oh, yes," said Hermione. "I had almost forgotten."

With a last glance at Rose, they left the room. Hermione tried to avoid thinking about what would happen between her and Ron. There were more important things to focus on right now.

The moment they entered the living room, everyone focused their gazes on them, and Hermione couldn't help but blush. She could feel that they wanted to ask, but Mrs Weasley saved them.

"Now you're back I think we should have dinner. It'll be ready in a few minutes. Ron, you look thin — more than usual, I mean."

Ron smiled at her.

"I suppose I could eat something."

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Harry asked her in a low voice, his face full of concern.

"I am, Harry. Thank you."

"Is — is everything okay between you and Ron?" he asked.

"It's fine," she said, and he understood.

"We've send an owl to Charlie," Mr Weasley commented. "He will be delighted that you're back."

Ron nodded.

"I think we should celebrate Ron's return," Bill said. "And the fact that we're all alive, and that the Ministry will be free again."

"Yes, some Firewhiskey will do us good," George added.

"Yes," agreed Hannah, while Bill got glasses and a bottle.

Ron stared at her.

Hannah opened her eyes wide, and then stared at him in return.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," he nodded.

"What?" Neville asked, looking at them in turn. "What are you talking about?"

Hannah looked at Neville, a reluctant smile on her lips. "I — I'm late, Neville. I thought it was because of the stress we endured these last weeks but — I'm pregnant."

"You're what?"

"Pregnant."

Neville opened his eyes wide. "Really?" he asked. "But —?" he looked at Ron, and then back at her. "How —?"

"Ron spoke into my mind," Hannah explained. "He told me I really shouldn't drink Firewhiskey."

"I didn't want to be the one to tell you you're going to be a father," Ron said.

"This — this is —" Neville stuttered, and then, grinning widely, he took Hannah into his arms and lifted her off her feet. "That's wonderful!" he yelled. "Me, a dad!"

"Now we definitely have to celebrate!" George yelled, and while everyone congratulated the young couple, he and Bill began to give everyone glasses of Firewhiskey, except to Hannah, Ginny, Hermione and Audrey.

"This — this is so unexpected," was saying Neville. "I mean, we — we aren't even married. Gran will have a fit when I tell her."

"That is not important, Neville," said Ron. "Marriage, even with magic, means really nothing. It is your love which links you together and what gave life to your child."

"Do — do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" Ron nodded. "Never mind, don't tell me!" Neville added quickly. "I don't want to know."

And while all of them toasted and celebrated, Hermione got closer to Ron.

"This feels so strange," she commented. "A few hours ago I thought I had lost Rose, that we were all going to die, and now — now you're back, and we're celebrating. It reminds me the day we told them I was pregnant, before all of this started."

"Yes, I know."

"It is strange, thinking about that ... it feels like a lifetime ago."

"Hermione, the past is more than memories. It's something real, something that exists. It is something we create, and no matter what happens, it is always there."

"For you, maybe," Hermione said. "We don't see the world that way, Ron. We don't have your perception," she added, sadly. There it was again, another bit of proof of how different they were now.

"Let's not think about that now," he told her softly. "Tonight we are safe. Let's enjoy that, okay?"

"Okay," she said, and they joined their family and friends.


Well, it felt good, after so many time, have Ron and Hermione together and kissing, even though their problems are not solved. And I suppose you'll be pleased that there's no cliffhanger this time, after so many chapters with them.

See you next weekend!