Author's Note: Ok, sorry, I lied, I was struck by some last minute inspiration to add just a little bit to wrap this up. 3
E.
One year later...
Ron stood at the edge of a pond not too far from the Burrow, a long stretch of orchard trees lining the country around him on all sides. He bounced on his feet, hands in his pockets, watching the edges of clouds turn into soft pink cotton. A rustle of leaves from behind made him turn around. His face lit up when he saw Hermione emerge through the bushes, fully bathed in golden light of the setting sun. Flying seedlings and dandelion fluff settled on her bare shoulders, tangled in her hair and clung to the white wedding dress she wore.
Her hair was loosely tied, hanging low onto her back. She seemed breathless, cheeks were flushed, as if she had just escaped a vigorous dance with Charlie or Fred, both of whom seemed to be determined to upstage the other in their wild dancing moves.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. Weasley," she called with a grin, lifting her skirts and walking towards him, barefoot through the soft dewy grass.
"To what do I owe the pleasure for this secret meeting, Mrs. Granger-Weasley?"
It tasted so right rolling off his tongue, an honour and a joy. Hermione seemed to think so too, for she smiled as he said it, turning the engagement ring on her finger, now joined by a wedding band. She walked to him and pressed her palms atop his chest, standing on tip toe to kiss him deeply, their height difference more prominent now that she was without her heels.
Ron sighed with pleasure as they broke away. "Very daring. What will the people think, us sneaking away while we should be entertaining?"
"I think that now that we are married, we can do whatever we please. I have something to show you," she added in a more serious tone.
She took a step back and without a warning, lifted her skirt high enough to reveal her thigh and a blue lacy undergarment. Ron winced and gulped down the sudden desire that overcame him, fresh memories of how he had kissed that piece of skin that very morning overtaking him.
"Aren't you supposed to wait until the wedding night to give the groom a heart attack, woman?"
Hermione laughed into the light of the dying day, extracting two small vials she had tucked underneath the piece of fabric around her leg.
"It's not my fault they still don't make wedding dresses with pockets. The owl arrived moments ago, shortly after the ceremony."
"The antidote," he said breathlessly, taking it from between her fingertips and inspecting it against the sunlight. Just like in the air around them, small flakes of gold shimmered in the liquid. "Well this is the strangest timing. Or perfect. I can't really tell."
"Yes, it's finally been tested and cleared. Proclaimed safe in all possible ways. The only effect it should have is restoring our memories, but obviously, we don't know for sure what will happen if we take it."
A short silence followed, one in which they both weighed the risk. What if the effects would spiral out of control? What if it made them forget again?
"You made it. You really found the cure." Hermione blushed under his stare, full of affection and pride. Ron took her hand and placed the vials in her palm, closing it gently around the glass. "What do you want to do?"
"I'm not sure. I feel..." she looked up into his eyes, allowing herself to just pause and watch him, breathe him in with the fresh air, let the summer breeze ruffle them gently. "I feel perfect, even without it."
"That makes me very happy to hear," he whispered low, voice hoarse with love impossible to be expressed through words.
Still clutching at the vial, Hermione embraced Ron, burying her face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, and together they just stood there, rocking slightly back and forth.
"What are you worried about?" he murmured the question into her hair.
"Oh I don't think I'm worried," she said with a short laugh as she pulled away. "Are you? You think you'll drink it and it works and all the memories of how I've been before will change your mind?" She was teasing, and yet Ron knew enough about insecurity to pick up on the slightest hint of fear.
"That better not happen, because we just got married and it will be terribly awkward if we cancel now, don't you think?"
She laughed and wiped her eyes of the tears she didn't realize had gathered there. Then she opened her palm and uncorked the vials, handing one to Ron.
They exchanged one last look, reaching out with their other hand to hold each other, just in case.
"It shouldn't go wrong, but if it does..."
Before she could say it, he pulled her close and leaned down to plant a soft kiss upon her lips. "I know, Hermione. Don't worry, it'll be alright."
And she believed him.
They raised the vials and drank it together, as they had once back in a different forest, when they had thought their paths would part. How long ago that had been, and now through it all, their lives forever intertwined.
The liquid coursed through them sharp and cold, like ice and firewhiskey that ignited on its way down their throat. Hermione staggered from the sudden vertigo that gripped her, but Ron was there to steady her, even if he himself had trouble standing. Together, they lowered down to sit on the grass, gasping for air, feeling the threat of passing out gnaw at the edges of their consciousness.
Images and memories travelled and flipped and settled in their brain a million miles per second. Their hearts and minds were a pattern of maps and faded photographs, their lost past covered by not only the magical dust, but by a present they had carved out together. A place in this world, for one another as well as for themselves, building a life out of the dark, believing in love, their found family, friends, trusting their hearts.
But finally, all the sketches and contours and empty places were filling in, as if a universe of colours poured over faded parchment, as if flesh grew back onto their hollow bones and flowers bloomed in a garden not bare, just green and young in spring.
Hermione opened her eyes moments later to find Ron staring over the quiet pond that mirrored the pink and purple sky overhead. His hand was still clutching hers, but his look was faraway, as if he had gone on a journey far from this place, down halls and corridors that had been dark, but now with windows wide open that let in all the light.
Hermione took a moment to gather her own thoughts. Her mind felt full but wonderfully rich. Wild excitement bubbled inside her, much like the thrill of not so much learning something new but discovering something old, treasured and beloved, like rereading an old forgotten book she had used to love. It was impossible to properly process it all in the now, but she finally felt whole even in the places that she had forgotten were left gaping and empty.
Ron laughed beside her suddenly, burying his face in his hand, peeking at her sideways.
"What?" she asked.
"Did you really turn into a cat?"
Hermione's brows knitted together as she shuffled through the many new files in her mind, and then she snorted with laughter. "I guess I did. Did you really have a pet rat that was actually a man and let him sleep in your bed?"
Ron winced and shook his head, as if trying to lose that particular memory. "Huh. Harry never mentioned that part. Good on him, I guess, but it's too late now, it's all in here." He tapped his finger to his temple and mocked a tragic sigh.
"Well think of it as the vows you just made, for better and for worse. It's the same with memories and who we are, I suppose."
Ron stretched out his arm and Hermione shifted closer, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"There's so much," he said with wonder. Much of it they had been told before, some of it had been triggered by situations, dreams and hints of their own souls, but Hermione understood what he meant. It all took on a richer, wilder life, the memories now in their head, moments beautiful and tragic, light and dark.
"Yeah, it's like when you watch too many films in one night," she mumbled through a yawn.
Ron kissed the top of her head while she interlaced her fingers with his. "Good thing I really like watching films with you."
Hermione only smiled. They sat there for a little longer, savouring the moment before having to go back to attend their own wedding reception. They each briefly relived that long eventful life, full of magic and adventure and war, the pain as well as beauty that came afterwards, moment by moment, and yet if they were to choose, this right here, was better than anything from before.
The End