AN: A lot of you have commented about the speed of posting lately and just in case I ever write another story, let me assure you - I cannot write this fast! I had the end of the story and the beginning of the story written and now I have finally met in the middle so that means . . . the story is done! It looks like there are going to be 50 (ish) chapters. I'm editing as I go so I'm trying to post and edit at least every other day. But yay and thanks for sticking with me! On with the story!
. . . Chapter 37
. . . Engagement Ring and A Prophecy . . .
The next few weeks melted by as Hermione wore her beautiful new necklace from Ron with a ridiculous amount girlish pride. She threw herself into work with Odette and Grayson pursing Order of Merlin rights for Goblins. They didn't have a particular Goblin in mind, however, so they were pulling all files pertaining to Goblin histories to review again.
"Hermione?" Odette's voice called her out of her consideration of the history book in front of her.
"Yeah?"
"We need to pull some files that this one references: 10999, 10970, 10340, 10341, 10342. Could you go to archives and pull them with Edgecombe?" asked Odette, waving around a list. Her face was clearly apologetic that she couldn't go herself - still forbidden from taking files from archives.
"Sure," Hermione sighed, standing slowly from her chair. Both knees popped like light gunshots.
"Geez, Hermione! Stand up more often," Odette laughed, "You sound like my grandmother. All those creaks and pops."
Hermione grinned ruefully. She hadn't moved since lunch once except to lift a hand to turn a page. She turned to walk the long march to archives within their department with a springing lilt to her step. She and Harry and Ron had spoken and planned to go together after work to Gringotts. Harry had finally plucked up the courage to go check for the ring he wanted to give Ginny. Harry had talked himself into it, deciding that if it wasn't there then he wanted to know sooner rather than later. Feeling herself grinning as she walked, Hermione slipped into the door of archives, quickly summoning the files she needed and walking with a growing sense of dread at having to face Edgecombe. Edgecombe's withering stares had not weakened with time.
"Good afternoon, Madame Edgecombe. I need to -"
"Give them here," Edgecombe looked up to glower. Hermione pushed the small stack toward her across the counter. A black quill scratched and twitched across the page. Madame Edgecombe pushed them wordlessly back to Hermione. Hermione gathered the stack in her arms and walked back to her desk to scour the files with Odette for anything useful.
"Hermione!" Harry's voice called out from right behind her. Hermione jumped spilling a pot of ink over her notes.
"Shit!" she muttered, quickly siphoning the spilt ink off without turning around. "What Harry?"
"'Mione, it's fifteen after five," Harry explained sheepishly. Hermione spun around in her chair to look up at Harry and Ron who stood directly behind her. Ron was grinning at her. She felt like they were suddenly back in the library at Hogwarts and they were making her leave to make curfew on time. The thought made her feel too old. Had that really only been a couple years ago?
"Oops," she glanced over and Odette was gone. "Sorry."
"S'alright, Gringotts is open until seven," Harry said, eyeing her strangely.
"What? Have I got - "
"Yeah, you do," Ron moved forward laughing and brushed what was evidently a smudge of ink off of her forehead with a damp finger. "How do you always do this?"
"Ugh, I have no idea. It's almost every day," she groaned, letting him clean her up.
"Ready?" Harry asked, edging toward the corridor.
"Yeah," Ron called back to Harry, taking her hand in his. The three of them stepped out into the lobby minutes later.
"Weasley! Ron!" a booming, familiar voice called out. For a split second Hermione thought it was Mr. Weasley before they turned around and she recognized Chalden Harding jogging toward them.
"What's happened?" Ron dropped her hand instantly to take a step to Harding.
"Glad I caught you. Tip on Salter, literally just done. Going now if you don't have plans," Harding explained quickly. Ron glanced back at her and she felt her chest contract painfully.
"Yeah, alright. Harry, 'Mi," Ron clapped a hand on Harry's back and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "Take care of each other, I'll see you at home." And with that he was gone, following danger and Harding in the direction of the lifts. Be safe, she thought after him, watching his retreating form with a sinking feeling.
"Well? Up for some engagement ring hunting?" Harry asked with a forced brightness and she nodded and let him put a guiding hand on her back and lead her to a Floo out to the Leaky Cauldron.
Stepping into Gringotts, Hermione noticed that it seemed larger than the last time she'd been there. More tellers, more space. She wondered how much damage had actually been left here after their dramatic escape - she couldn't quite remember how much damage the dragon had done on the way out. Hermione let Harry speak to one of the goblins - Galad - and concentrated on Ron. Ron coming home safely, Ron kissing her, coming into her bed.
"Hermione?" Harry gently prodded her to move with a finger against her back and the pair followed the goblin.
"Oh, right, sorry," she muttered and followed the goblin to the cart. Riding in the cart, with the wind whipping through her curls, elicited a strange giggle from Hermione as she remembered the last time she'd done so. Harry turned to her and grinned rakishly.
"Can't believe they let us back here," he leaned and whispered in her ear.
"Me either," she whispered back, smirking at the back of the goblin's head. The cart eventually shrieked to a stop.
"Vault 687!" Galad barked at them and Harry and Hermione clamored out of the carriage.
"Key, please," he demanded. Harry fished a large key out of his pocket and handed it over.
"Lamp, please," he turned to ask Hermione. She quickly dislodged the lamp from its spot on the cart and hand it to the diminutive creature.
Galad opened the door and it swung open to reveal piles of Galleons, Sickles, Knuts and a couple piles of items spread around on and around tables.
"Alright, let's start looking, I guess," Harry breathed out beside her as the vault door swung shut behind them.
Hermione slid her outer robe off and piled it on the floor beside the door. She moved to a table that was littered with boxes on and under it. She pulled one box toward her on the edge of the table and lifted a the wooden top. The whole box was full of hair combs with jewels and precious metals. Hermione fingered one carefully. Pearls stood out against tarnished silver.
"Look at this, Hermione," Harry called out with an odd tone. She turned to look at him. He was holding up a white satin fabric.
"Is that a wedding dress?" She moved over closer.
"Yeah," Harry answered staring down at it strangely. Hermione looked at it and ran her hand over the slightly yellowed fabric. "It's probably somewhere over here then, you think?"
"I don't know, I found a box of hair combs so it might be back over there? Jewelry?"
"Yeah, yeah. You keep looking there, I guess," he cleared his throat. She frowned over at him.
"You alright?" Her mind inexplicably threw up a picture of Ron raising his wand to a stranger. She sent up a sudden prayer for his safety and turned her attention back to Harry.
"Yeah, fine," Harry answered quickly. "Oi, look at this," he said, a sense of wonder permeating his voice.
Her eyes darted to his feet where his gaze was lingering. A thick woven tapestry rug under his feet, decorated with embroidered ivy in the center. She gasped when she realized what Harry stood on.
"Harry! Do you know what this is?" she crouched down and reverently brought her hand to the fabric.
"No," he whispered, stepping off of the fabric.
"It's a Tribould Tapestry, a hide-away tapestry," she stood and grabbed his hand and made him bend down to touch the bundle of ivy in the center. The ivy unfurled and a keyhole appeared.
"What - " he started, jerking his hand back.
"A hide-away tapestry that you can unlock and use to disappear in for as long as you need it," she blurted and as she spoke the keyhole disappeared. Ivy typically stood for growth, friendship and relationships, protection. . . . "I wonder - "
She brushed her own hand over the ivy and the keyhole reappeared. She gasped.
"Does it work for everyone?" Harry whispered.
"No, I'm sure it's for, well ivy symbolizes friendship among other things so I suppose it's for you, Potter descendants, and people that you call friends," she breathed, eyes watching the keyhole fade.
"So Ron?" Harry asked in a fragmented question.
"Mm," she hummed her confirmation.
"And Ginny and one day our children. . ." whispered Harry.
She grinned at his soft words and nodded, looking at the growing flush on Harry's face.
"Yeah. . . Do you think you and Ron - ?" he broke off awkwardly and Hermione recognized his attempt to keep looking for objects, she turned toward another table.
"Will get married?" she finished for him, swallowing as she lifted a silver top off of a small, rectangular jewelry box. A diamond bracelet glittered on black velvet. "Um, I hope so. Why?"
"Just wondered if you'd talked about it," Harry said quietly. A cascade of noise like falling coins came from Harry's direction. "Shit," he muttered.
"We've talked about it. . . well, kinda," she popped open another wood box. "Oh, Harry!"she gasped out. "Found them."
Harry rushed over and saw the three rings sitting side by side. A man's yellow gold wedding band. A woman's yellow gold wedding band. A well sized diamond was fixed in the middle of another yellow gold ring. Traditional and timeless, though not quite her taste.
"Well?" she asked happily. Harry looked down at the rings.
"Do you think she'll like it?" Harry picked up the engagement ring and slipped it on his pinky to look at it, turning it in the dim light of the vault.
"Harry!" she exclaimed and turned to look up at his face. His face was set in a sort of horrified wonder as he appraised the ring. "Of course, they're perfect," she answered quickly to soothe him, looking from his face to the wedding rings.
"Strange isn't it? To think that I'll be proposing in what, seven months or so?" he asked with a small smile.
"Strange but good right?" There were several points during the last year that she could have never imagined something like the three of them growing old and getting married. Even now with the number of Death Eaters still on the loose she had trouble imagine a perfectly safe world for them all to get married and start families in.
"Strange but good," Harry answered in a small voice, closing the wood box on its small brass hinges. "I guess now that we know it is here, we'll leave them here for safe keeping?"
She nodded up at him and smiled gently.
"Want to hop a dragon out of here?" Harry joked to her, leaving the box on the table. She felt him trying to lighten the mood and appreciated it too much to put into words.
"Hurumph," Galad cleared his throat from the other side of the vault door. Hermione grinned.
"We're ready," Harry called through the metal door and a series of clicks later the vault door swung open to reveal a puffed-up, angry-looking goblin. The goblin snapped the key in the lock, shoved it back at Harry and gestured at them to get back in the cart. Too soon for dragon jokes.
Harry and Hermione walked out of Gringotts laughing at the abrupt dismissal by Galad in the lobby.
"Guess it left a mark," Harry looked back at the crooked white front of the bank.
"It's the only known successful robbery in the history of the bank, Harry," she felt herself swell with something like a sick pride at her statement.
"Is it really?" he asked, offering his arm to her. She linked her arm through his.
"Yes, turns out there's no where safe from us."
Harry pulled her with him in Disapparation back to their welcoming house.
Ron sat in silence with Bill and Kingsley in the living room. They'd shown up minutes ago looking like someone had died. Kingsley refused to speak with him until Harry and Hermione got home. All Bill would say was that they had a prophecy and needed to speak to Hermione. Ron checked Harry's clock frantically, pacing back and forth by it. The tines clearly said Hermione and Harry: Out. On one of his pacing marches, Ron glanced at the clock. Hermione and Harry: Travelling. He watched it with narrowed eyes. A moment later, Hermione and Harry: Home.
The instant Hermione and Harry had Apparated back from Diagon Alley, Ron heard them. They were both laughing in the backyard. Flinging open the door, Ron flew to them in a panic.
"Hermione? You're alright?" He grabbed her shoulders and then her chin to turn her face side to side. She looked fine, perfect, in the dusk light.
"Yes, what's this about?" Hermione asked quickly, glancing at Kingsley and Bill. "What's going on?" she asked. Ron's stomach was in a knot already from Bill's implication of what was to come. Nervous terror fluttered in his guts.
Kingsley and Bill exchanged a long look, Bill nodded at Kingsley who turned to Hermione. "I think we should sit for this, Hermione." Ron felt the fist that seemed to be clenching his stomach tighten. Hermione crossed her arms but Ron watched her turn to walk inside and sit down on the couch. Ron sat so close to her he was almost on top of her. He couldn't bring himself to care about something like personal space with the Minister of Magic and his oldest brother in the room, about to reveal the full nature of whatever was about to happen.
Kingsley sighed heavily and looked up at Hermione. Ron felt her tense against him. "Since the Department of Mysteries debacle and You-Know-Who luring you lot there, the Ministry adapted a new policy regarding the storage of prophecies and predictions," Kingsley moved a hand to withdraw a small object from his robes. "We deliver prophecies to the person about whom they are made, otherwise prophecies are destroyed on the spot to prevent break-ins." Ron felt the space behind his sternum get heavy as his heart throbbed painfully. Bill had been telling the truth: Hermione, a prophecy. Kingsley let the object sit in his open palm and purple fabric fell off of a small crystal ball.
"Oh, I don't want that, thanks," Hermione said and moved to stand up from the couch. Ron turned to stare at her, grabbing her wrist to keep her on the couch.
"Hermione, it was made by Trelawney at Hogwarts in front of a class of students," Bill explained and then nodded at Ron. "Ginny," he answered the unspoken question.
"You're going to know sooner or later, Hermione. Perhaps it would give you more privacy to hear it now instead of in public somewhere?" Kingsley grimly said.
Hermione hesitated and looked back at Ron. "What do you think?" She was asking his opinion? Really? He couldn't string his own thoughts together much less advise her on anything.
"Um, yeah, maybe it'd be better to know what we're up against?" Ron said and saw her eyes roll and then dart to the crystal ball before she huffed and agreed. She stood and held out her palm for Kingsley to drop the ball into her hand. Trelawney's voice burst from the ball and filled the space.
The time of great peace approaches.
It will come to pass when the one of three carries new life.
She will pass through the Veil.
Hermione Granger will cease to exist.
Her one love will repay those who take her in quick succession.
Only after these have come into fruition will our world know peace.
The silence in the room buzzed in Ron's ears. Hermione stood stock-still in the center of the room, holding the ball in her hand.
"Hermione, it's - " Kingsley started.
"It's rubbish. I don't buy Divination. I never have," Hermione said but Ron noticed her shoulders sagging as he surveyed her back in her long sleeve cream shirt. "Is there anything else?"
"No, we just - " Bill started and Hermione fixed him with a glare. Ron looked down at his hands in his lap.
Kingsley cleared his throat and stood awkwardly in the suddenly tense room. "I'll just be going then and let you process this. If there is anything you three need, feel free to drop by my office anytime." He Flooed out without waiting for a response.
"Bill, how did you get with Kingsley?" Harry asked, quietly, glancing up at Hermione's still turned back.
"He came by the Burrow first - Fleur and I are, um, visiting - because he didn't know where yours, your place, was. I told him we'd come here. The family already knows the gist of the message with Ginny's owl this afternoon, so. . . " Bill paused to give Hermione a sorrowful look before fixing his mouth into a hard line. "You'll figure out something, disprove it or something, you three always do," he turned to look at Ron. "Want me to stay?"
Ron looked up at Bill feeling at once five years old and fifty. He heard his strangled reply as if a stranger had said it, "No, we'll be alright." Bill nodded and left the way he came.
"Hermione?" Harry broke the silence between the three of them after Bill left.
"What?" she snapped, still facing away.
"Hermione, what'd you think it means?" Harry asked. Ron looked over at him, his face was crumbled in on itself. Defeated.
"It means Trelawney is a fruitcake!" Hermione let out a harsh laugh. "It means we've got one more thing to worry about only this one is ridiculous so I hope you both let it go."
"'Mione, she - " Harry started, weakly.
"I'm going to shower and when I get out, we are absolutely not going to talk about this prophecy ever again," she wheeled around to finally face them and Ron saw anger and something unplaceable lacing her expression.
"Hermione, talk to us," Ron prompted, remembering how she'd let him vent in the yard last month. "Tell us what you're thinking," he whispered up to her.
She glared at him.
"Fine, this is ridiculous. I can't believe that Kingsley thought I'd want to know any of that. I wish he'd destroyed it instead of bringing that shit to me! And I just feel like we're trying to tip toe around landmines all the time! When does it stop?" Hermione shrieked, throwing her hands up and into her hair.
"What - ?" Ron started to ask about landmines.
"Tell you later..." Harry whispered back.
Hermione yanked her hands out of her hair. "It's like all the walls are always closing in with the Death Eaters and everything. I thought after the last year that everything would get so much easier! Ugh, I'm done talking about it. I want to ignore this prophecy, alright? It's crap."
"Alright," Ron and Harry answered together. She walked immediately out of the room and slammed her door. Through the door Ron heard her shuffling footsteps and muttering rant before another slam signaled her presence in her bath.
"Harry," Ron felt himself loosing it - his hands shook more violently - as her shower turned on audibly. The prophecy's phrases echoed strangely in his mind. "Harry, what did that all mean?"
Harry didn't answer.
"Harry! 'She will pass through the veil!' What the hell else could that mean?" Ron felt panic rising in his chest. "You don't believe in it do you?" Ron looked at Harry who didn't move or answer. "Harry! Talk to me!" He whispered in a quiet approximation of the yell he wanted to let out.
"Trelawney was right about me and Voldemort and then about Pettigrew in third year. . . " Harry whispered back.
"Oh, God," Ron shot up off of the couch. "Something like 'carries new life'?"
Harry nodded.
"She just - That's got to be her right?" He found himself pacing across the living room rug. "The one of three? You, me, Hermione. Three. Carries new life means pregnancy, right? Then she just won't get pregnant. Done. Ok, thwarted, right?" Ron asked frantically. Harry looked like someone had stunned him. "Right?"
"Oh, um, right, right," Harry stuttered out. Ron paced around the living room and Harry's telling silence fueled a horrible string of thoughts. Cease to exist. Pass through the Veil. What if the prophecy came true? What if Hermione -
Harry stood up and stumbled gracelessly from the room. Ron found himself inexplicably at Hermione's bedroom door, opening it when he found himself there and letting himself inside. Her room was empty and he was drawn instantly to the door of her bathroom. He knocked on it softly.
"Ron?" her voice was thick. He opened the door.
"Yeah, love. S'me." She was in the shower, the curtain was pulled closed, hiding her small frame.
"I'm so tired of being worried and scared," she squeaked out and he realized she sounded like she'd been crying. He drew back the curtain slowly and saw her leaning against the white wall of the shower. The silver necklace gleamed on her wet skin. Tiny dots of sapphire, aquamarine and ruby flashed and decorated her chest. Wet tendrils of hair clung to her neck and shoulders.
"Oh, Hermione," he breathed out, stepping into the shower with her. She looked so perfect, so wonderful. How had they wasted all that time before and now everything threatened to undo, to take everything away?
"Ron, your clothes," she said but he heard her sniff and looked down at her. He couldn't tell if those were tears or water from the shower head.
"I don't care," he whispered, gathering her in his arms. Her shoulders shook violently against his chest. Tears. Her hair was slick with something in it, conditioner or something. He gently turned her and used his fingers to work through her hair, letting everything wash away. The water was scalding hot. He didn't dare adjust it if she was comfortable.
"I'm just so sick of agonizing over Death Eaters and prophecies and dark magic and memories," she moaned out miserably against his chest. Hot water soaked into his clothes and hair.
"I know," he felt his own voice start to break but he had to be strong for her, he couldn't cry when she was this distraught. "We'll get through this, though, yeah? We got through last year - "
"I know but it is just another damn obstacle, another step backward," she balled her hands up in his wet shirt against his ribs. "When will it be enough?" she finished darkly.
"What do you mean?" he whispered against her wet hair.
"When will our sacrifices, our pain, and all we've done in our lives be enough that we actually get to start living out from under all of these shadows? When will we have given enough?" Hermione whispered and he felt her knees sway so he cut off the shower and stood there with her, holding her tightly. The water dripped off of his clothes as he leaned back to look down at her face.
"We have given. . . Hermione - " he made her look up at him before he continued, "we have given enough. And I don't know what to think about that prophecy," his throat seized up. He knew exactly what he thought about the prophecy and about the girl it was about, "but we'll figure a way around it. I won't lose you now," his voice got weaker as he went on. She noticed and frowned up at him.
"I don't believe in it, Ron. I just hate that now you and Harry will worry about it. He believes in this kind of junk and you worry about me too much already," she reached a hand up to finger her necklace. "You already keep me safe, Ron. Nothing will happen to me if I have this on or you beside me, alright? You promise not to worry about me because of this craziness?"
He nodded down at her and smoothed his hands over the smooth, slick skin on her sides.
She unbuttoned his clothes and started to peel his clothes off of him with practiced hands. He felt himself harden in spite of the new terrifying revelations of the evening and tried to block everything about that ridiculous prophecy out of his mind and focus on the woman in front of him. She leaned into him to capture his lips. Ron ran his fingers down the precious scar that stopped at the side of her navel and then dropped them lower. She was silky and damp against his fingertips, a very different kind of damp from the kind clinging to the clothes he had on. He swallowed hard against her mouth. She nipped down on the lip in between hers and Ron growled into her mouth, needing more, needing to be closer. He grabbed his wet clothing, shedding them quickly. They made squelching, shucking sounds coming unstuck from his skin. Hermione leaned back against the wall of the shower, letting him push her against it by her shoulders. Skin on skin.
"Tell me you love me," he commanded, shamelessly. He needed her. Smooth skin, damp hair, wet clumpy eyelashes, two freckles that always drew his lips down to that spot on her jaw.
"I love you," she whispered up at him. He stroked his hands down her body from her shoulders and felt her shudder deliciously against him.
"Tell me this prophecy doesn't mean anything." Grasping at her dainty waist roughly, Ron searched her face for an impending lie.
"It doesn't mean anything." Truth radiated from her expression. He kissed her hard, her head was forced against the tiled wall of the shower.
"Tell me you don't believe it," she whispered breathlessly between his ruthless assault of her mouth. He froze against her lips, keeping his eyes shut and their lips pressed lightly together. He didn't want to believe it at all. He wanted this: Hermione and him, happy and whole. Together. Forever. It couldn't - could not - be true.
"I don't believe it," he muttered, moving to kiss her neck. He pushed two fingers into her and relished her cry. He lowered his mouth to her chest capturing a light pink nipple in his mouth. She clamped down on his fingers soon in gasping pleasure and he lifted her out of the shower to the counter in the bathroom. He still couldn't believe they shared this together, that she ached for him the way he did for her, that she let him know her in the most intimate way. He sank into her and she wrapped her legs around him. Her surrendering sighs against his mouth drove him to bury himself deeper in her. They weren't gentle with each other that night, roughly joining together with a poignant force. A force that felt suspiciously like fear.