Chapter 33 – Epilogue: Of Love in the Mornings, and Many Days to Come

Hermione stared at the ceiling, only to find herself staring back.

Luna's room was wide and open, circular like a castle tower. Luna generously offered Hermione a place to stay when she had said she'd rather not stay at the Burrow. She hadn't asked for an explanation, just nodded her head and took her by the hand, and together they Disapparated from the wedding shortly after the Parting Glass song.

While Luna slept soundly in her bed, Hermione lay awake in another bed, searching the eyes of the ceiling portraits, as if they held some mysterious insight born of paling paint and time gone past.

It's been hours of tiptoeing on the threshold of sleep, her mind refusing to let her rest. Instead, the moment Ron pulled away from her during the dance and said those words that tipped the world replayed in her head.

I might be leaving.

She should've said something then, she should've told him she didn't want him to go, she didn't in fact want him to ever leave her. But not Hermione, not the logical girl who only ever cared to do things that made sense. Strength before vulnerability, caution before risk. That's how it always was; before she lost her memory and herself, and also after, as she rebuilt a new life out of emptiness and illusions.

And yet it was the choices she made on instinct and faith that made her life worth living, before and after, always.

With or without memories, I'll always care about you.

Ron's voice echoed in her head yet again, only from a different moment. And she could curse and damn herself for not understanding it all sooner. She had been waiting to be sure, for things between them to right themselves. And in all that turmoil, she had also thought she was the one making risks, with giving him the ring back, with inviting him to the house. She had been so focused on finding the cure and solution to their problem, she never properly realized the most important thing.

Hermione had been looking into the past for the answer while Ron knew the answer all along, finding it in their present.

Or trying to, until their stubbornness and the weight of everything took it away from him. It was strange how no matter what, a person would be locked in a pattern, history would repeat itself, timing would be wrong again, and two people would be misaligned. And yet, there was a way to break free, to throw caution to the wind, to fight for what was important to you.

Hermione and Ron of the past were perhaps pushed by the thought of almost dying to take that final step. That notion had previously preyed on her mind, reminding her that people change and so do paths. But how could she explain to her the love and need she felt for him, still, after so long, without the threat of war looming over their heads?

If history repeated itself, and stubbornness and pride always returned back in handfuls, why couldn't the love?

Somewhere in the depths of this strange house, Hermione heard a clock strike, and it brought to her mind the notion of time, and how much of it they had lost.

Time they had been robbed off, yes, but also the time they were willingly throwing away. By hiding, by choosing fear instead of trust, fear instead of love.

Yes, she had had a plan, to slowly piece it all back together, getting the memories back, getting him back into the house, following a pattern that made sense, when in reality none of it made sense, and it didn't have to.

She had also been waiting for Ron to prove something to her, but what about her? What had she proven to him? Silence, detachment, focus on the dust, sending a message that she only cared for them if all the past could be retrieved, as if the now...as if it wasn't good enough, as if through all that struggle it wasn't dizzyingly and achingly beautiful.

Outside the window, Hermione spotted the dawn, a pale light pouring over the world. The countryside stretched into all directions, stone walls of old cutting through the dark green grasses and wheat fields. Solitary trees rose out from the mists, as if holding the pale world up, hints of red and yellow kissing their sprawling canopies good morning. As the first flecks of gold hit the rolling hills, it brought back a memory from not so long ago, when Ron had offered her a hand and an escape.

She thought again of flying into the sky with him, and then sitting around the fire that golden evening. She remembered their ease, the laughing, the honesty, and the kissing, all that raw and powerful feeling that followed, the sleeping, the waking, the breaking, but always underneath it all, loving, always loving.

It was a memory of the here and now, something gained instead of something lost.

More memories poured in, fresh and new, made by their time together after they've found each other. Seeing him for the first time, hearing him say her name. Going on an adventure together, finding their home again. And through it all, she had been associating it all with loss and heartache, only to realize now how beautiful it was, too, to meet him again, know him again, fall in love with him all over again. Feel the shivers of their first kiss course through her like magic, experiencing once-in-a-lifetime feelings for the second time.

A blessing in their curse, beauty in the darkness.

In the light of their own pride, pride so fierce and strong they got used to the taste, they didn't see it, and let it slip away. The weight of loving and longing both, it was too much to bear, and mistakes were made, wrong words were said, the right ones, smothered by fear, remained hidden away.

A jolt of indignation and anger rippled through Hermione, directed at both of them, but mostly herself. She sat upright as if struck.

Where were the lions in them, dammit?

Tossing the blanket aside, she snatched her summer dress and a sweater off the chair by the bed and pulled them both over her head. The iron spiral staircase rattled as she ran downstairs. At the door she stopped to pull a pair of shoes on in haste, not bothering with the laces.

She ran into the crisp morning, but there was a deeper heat coursing through her that kept the chill at bay.

A sudden thought halted her steps, freezing her momentum. She looked over her shoulder. Inside the cylindrical house, the vial with the antidote remained, forgotten in the folds of her bridesmaid's dress. With everything that's been happening, with all that was at stake, its previous significance was reduced to almost nothing, yet all she needed to do was run back in to grab it.

But the sun was rising and Hermione found herself unwilling to trade any more looking back for what mattered to her now.

She turned away and ran into the sunrise.

The strange world of an early morning, quiet, shy, yet already daring, opened its arms to her, swallowing her in a swirl of golden light and mist.

Uphill and down she ran, flecks of mud splattering the hem of her dress, dew curling her hair. A liberating energy of truth and choice were what moved her on, through the slopes and trodden pathways in the wet grass that grew tall.

She lifted her gaze to follow the glow that bounced strangely through the pale fog. In the distance, as the mists parted, a lone figure walked from within. Hermione's feet slowed from the sheer surprise, heartbeat quick to begin with gone frantic in her chest.

A man was walking towards her, with the golden green light of the morning at his back. A cloak trailed behind him and his red hair became more prominent as he got closer. He still wore the white cotton shirt from the night before, opened right above his chest, tie missing, collar blowing out against the air.

His long strides were interrupted as he saw her. He seemed to hesitate for a single breath, and then quickened his pace, walking towards her with an urgency she felt rise within herself.

As they reached one another, they stopped a few paces away each. She could see he hadn't slept either, but the radiance in his blue eyes eclipsed the tiredness, and there was such raw emotion there Hermione nearly stumbled.

"It's you," he said, looking puzzled but pleased.

"I wanted to see you, and… and you're here." She tried to smile, but a deeper sense of urgent desperation for honesty made her go on. "I couldn't sleep, as I often can't when you're not around." Ron's features softened at that. He cocked his head to the side, piercing her with his gaze as she continued. "When you asked me what I think about you leaving...did you want me to stop you? Because I don't know if I can do that, if leaving is what you really want. If you need the space that you have given me when I needed it then-"

"I don't want space." He put his hands in the pockets of his coat, then pulled them back out, flexing his fingers, as if hesitating. "I just wanted to move on, forward, not backwards. The whole America deal, it was an impulse thing. Maybe I'll go, maybe I won't." He rubbed the back of his head, ginger hair sticking out and glowing like gleeful fire around his head. "It's a little awkward, but George actually wanted to go. It's his business, and Angelina had an invitation to go and try out for their Quidditch league."

Hermione gulped down her surprise, but she kept on listening, heart yearning for his truth.

"I got scared at the prospect of us truly breaking up, being just your friend, that's why I asked George to consider sending me instead."

Hermione let his words settle. She noticed how calm he was, open, surrendered. She mulled it over, still she needed to know. "So, do you wish to leave?"

"No, Hermione, I don't really want that. Please don't think it was some weird ultimatum or manipulation from my side, though," he added hastily, lines of worry wrinkling his forehead. "I think that in that moment in time I really didn't know what I wanted."

"I understand the not knowing what you want part. I know how that feels," she murmured, crossing her arms to keep herself warm. With the tip of her shoe, she dug at the ground, eyes downcast. "I feel like I've been stuck in that place for a long time, with you too, and now I know what it's like to be at the other end of it. And it's difficult, and I'm sorry I made you feel like that, like I didn't love you."

The weight of her words, the implication, hung for a moment between them.

"And the house," she went on, unable to stop the rush of words and feelings blooming from her heart now, "I thought you were pushing me away, but I think I got it now. You didn't want to be around there and instead of trying to understand why, I took it all personally."

"I should've been more honest about it, you did ask me. It just haunts me. It reminds me of everything we lost, I feel like I hear screaming every time I'm there, your screaming."

"So let's sell it."

"What?"

"The house, let's sell it. You were right. To me, it isn't really a home, it's only a place to stay, just another empty space I was trying to fill to create the perfect illusion of a past reclaimed. But it's not a home, not without you." She paused to catch a breath. She noticed the distance between them, the real physical one as well as the emotional one, was finally shrinking instead of expanding. Ron took another tentative step towards her, she shuffled her feet in his direction, and when she looked down at her shoes, laces all lost to the mud, the tips of his boots were in her field of vision.

"What do you think?" she asked with a small voice, looking up.

Ron released a sigh and his body relaxed, as if a weight had been lifted off him. His lips tugged upwards, the ever brightening sun and some of his own light sparking in his eyes. "That would make sense, I s'ppose. I'm...thank you," he breathed.

Hermione nodded her head vigorously, curls falling into her eyes. She brushed them aside hastily, trying to wipe the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. "I just want this to work." She couldn't help her voice cracking with those words.

"All this time, I just...I wasn't sure it could," Ron said, unable to keep the tremor out of his own voice. "I worried that we'd make each other miserable, that maybe we're too different, too changed, but you know...even if this is going to end up in flames, I still want you, I still want to risk it, and I'm ready to burn, Hermione, but I'm not going to give up on us. I choose this, I choose us, you, everything that comes along with it. I was afraid before, but I'm not any more. That is, if you...if you..."

"Ron…" She half-sobbed, half-sighed and reached him in a couple of quick steps. Slipping her hands into his hair she gave him one quick dizzy glance before she kissed him. Ron responded immediately, his heart leaping in his chest. She breathed life and beauty and joy into him as he placed one hand on her neck and the other brushed the wild hair out of her face. On his skin he felt the warmth of the rising sun. The dazzling light illuminated the inside of his eyelids as he kissed her deeper still, cradling her head with his hands.

Hermione broke away for breath, looking up at him. He pressed cold lips to her forehead.

"I love you," she said with an even voice empty of all doubts. Ron stared into her eyes with a calm devotion, a happiness that she finally recognized. As if the universe shifted when love was chosen, fears perished around them. "I mean it. I know it. And I don't love you because I should or because I used to. I love you now. I love you for real. I love who you are. I love who I am with you. Memory or not, I don't care! And I'm sorry for not knowing sooner."

Ron shut his eyes and brought her hands to his lips, kissing her fingertips through his smile. "I love you," he whispered hoarsely into her palms. "I love you," he said as he tipped her chin up and kissed her again, kissed her fiercely, kissed her soft, and then some more.

It may have been moments or hours until they broke apart and walked back home, leaning into each other.

It would always be hard to explain, further down the line, how one day it was all a mess, and the next day, the path was there. Perhaps true clarity comes when you choose your course, take responsibility for your life, risk it all, against all odds, real or imagined.

Maybe one day they would remember everything. They would keep on trying. But for now, it didn't matter. The love was here and now, and their memory within.

Author's Note: thank you so much for every read and like and review on this story. It's been with me for so long, and I can't believe it's over. Take care y'all! 3 I hope to be back with a new Ron/Hermione story soon!

E.