Chapter Twenty Three
The first thing that Hermione noticed when she woke up was the usual disorientation that encompasses a sleeper upon awaking. For a moment, she forgot where she was, and actually thought that all of last night had been a dream. But then, she felt the note against her palm, and realized that she would have to get up.
She glanced around the room, taking in the setting. It was still snowing outside, but now the snow appeared wet and heavy. The clock read 10:07. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes again. She didn't want to get up. She wanted to go back to sleep and forget that any of this had happened.
The feel of the notepaper against her skin brought Hermione back to reality. She rubbed her eyes with one hand, and sat up slightly on her elbow. She unfolded the crumpled paper, and the object that Ron had left fell out onto the sheets.
It was a ring. A wide, pale gold band that fit perfectly her index finger. Carved on one side of the ring was an odd sigil. She frowned and looked at it more closely. She didn't recognize it, even from all her Ancient Runes studies.
Tears stung the inside of her eyes, and she spread the paper out in front of her. Ron's messy scrawl jumped out at her from the page, shaky, like the hand that had written it had been trembling uncontrollably. She could almost hear his voice as she read.
Pixie,
I don't really know how to start here. There's an awful lot I want to tell you and will probably never get to say. But I guess the only legitiment thing to say here is this: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I had to hurt you, I'm sorry I had to leave you. I'm sorry you ever had to love me, because I don't deserve any of it. I'm sorry I have to leave while you're asleep, but I think if you wake up, I'll lose my sanity. Hell, it's threatened as it is.
I have no idea what I ought to say now, that done with. I could tell you how much I love you, or how beautiful you are. I could describe the way your hair shines in the torchlight, the way your eyes shine by themselves, when you look at me. But that would start to sound like the kind of Harlequin Romance junk that my mum reads, and that would be cheap.
I bought the ring a long time ago. About a week before school started. I don't know why. Maybe I'm more clairvoyant than I think I am. The symbol on it is the Norse runes for "R" and "H" entwined. I hope you wear it, but I'd understand if you don't.
I'm not asking you to wait for me or anything. I seriously doubt I'll ever have a chance to come back. I just want you to remember me. I want you to be happy, and if that means finding somebody else to love you, so be it. With any luck, you'll grow up and raise little chestnut-haired, cinnamon-eyed children with a man who loves you all as much as I love you. I hope you get all of that and more, because it's all you deserve.
Forgive me. Like I said, I'm absolute rubbish when it comes to words and language. I can't even begin to tell you what I'm trying to say. It all comes out garbled.
Love always, I don't care what happens,
Ron
P.S. Incidentally, that Harlequin Romance stuff I mentioned earlier? It's true, you know.
A tear trickled down her cheek and dropped off her chin. It hit her hand, and Hermione sniffled and wiped her eye. She turned the ring on her finger, and with a sigh, she folded the note back up and shoved it into her pocket. She then pulled back the covers and sat up.
Her vision clouded for a moment, and she put a hand to her head to keep herself from fainting. Bugger, she thought absently. I got up too fast. She stood up and got her balance, then walked over to the mirror and stared at it.
She looked horrible. Her eyes were still red and slightly puffy from crying, and her hair was a mess. Her shirt was twisted slightly around her body.
A draft crept through the room from the direction of the window, and she hugged her shoulders, shivering. Where was that sweater? It had to be in the floor somewhere. She felt around under the bed, wondering if maybe it had been kicked underneath.
Hermione's fingers collided with something. It was a shirt. She pulled it out and held it up. It was Ron's tee shirt. He must have forgotten it while packing. She held it to her face and inhaled. It smelled like him.
She choked back a sob as she stood up, holding the shirt to her chest. Her sweater was lying on the floor beside the bed, and she pulled it on, yanking the hood up over her disheveled hair.
I'm never going to see him again. Ever. The realization chewed at her soul, nibbling away at any optimism that might be still clinging. Hermione looked at the ring again, fingering the etched runes on its surface.
A knock on the door brought her back to reality, and she silently opened it. Parvati was standing in the hallway. Hermione jumped when she saw her- Parvati was possibly the last person she expected to see right then- but didn't say anything.
"Feeling better?" Parvati asked kindly.
She frowned. "What?"
Parvati raised an eyebrow. "Professor McGonagall said that you slept up here because you weren't feeling well," she said. "She told me to come up and get you."
Hermione closed her eyes. "Oh- yeah, I guess so." She followed Parvati through the hallways back to the common room. They sat down in front of the fire with the others, and she curled up in her chair, shutting out everyone else. She half-listened to the conversations around the room, not really paying attention to any of them.
"Hmm?" Hermione asked absently, realizing that Lavender's last question had been directed to her. "What did you say?"
Lavender rolled her eyes. "I said, when do you think Ron is coming back?"
Well, if that isn't the worst possible question you could ask me right now, she thought wryly. She laughed. She laughed so hard it almost hurt, each breath tearing through her lungs like racecars at the Grand Prix. She leaned over in her chair, putting her head between her knees, laughing like the world would end tomorrow.
Parvati reached out and touched Hermione's shoulder, and she raised her head. She didn't know if she was laughing or crying anymore, and tears stream down her cheeks onto her sleeves.
"Hermione?" Lavender asked tentatively.
"He's not coming back," Hermione said hoarsely. "He's never coming back. He's dead. Ron's dead." She jumped to her feet and faced them all. "Don't talk to me," she whispered. "Don't come near me." She turned on her heel and ran up the stairs to her room, collapsing on her bed.
How long she lay there, crying out all the tears she had, trying to let him go and knowing she would never be able to, Hermione didn't know. She didn't notice when her sobs began to quiet, when she began to run out of tears. It just occurred to her at one point that she wasn't crying anymore, just lying on a damp pillow, staring at the wall with a headache she wouldn't wish upon her worst enemy.
"Hermi?"
She looked around and saw Lavender turn the corner into the room. She sat up and leaned against the headboard, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "I'm OK," she said quietly.
Lavender walked over and sat on the side of the bed. "You are not," she replied. "People who are all right don't go postal on their friends and run off sobbing."
Hermione shuffled forward on the bed and lay back on the pillows, defeated. "I'm not OK." she whispered. A moment ago, she would have thought that she had cried all she possibly could, but apparently she was wrong. Tears welled up behind her eyelids again, and ran down her cheeks. "Why did he have to leave?" she whispered quietly.
Lavender put her arms around her friend, and Hermione rested her head on her shoulder. Lavender didn't say anything, as Hermione silently cried into her shoulder, just hugged her and stroked her hair.
"You loved him, didn't you?" Lavender asked at last.
Hermione sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Yes," she whispered. "Oh, God, Lavender, you have no idea what this feels like." She pulled away and lay down on the bed.
Lavender sighed and leaned against the wall. "You weren't sick last night, were you?"
She blinked back more tears and chewed her knuckle. "No."
"You were with Ron?"
She blushed. "Yes."
Lavender paused for a moment. "Were you- did you…"
Hermione closed her eyes. "We didn't sleep together," she said flatly. "Well- we did sleep together, literally, but we didn't do anything. Do you get my drift?"
Lavender raised an eyebrow. "You didn't do anything? Nothing at all? You just talked a bit and then fell asleep? Do you expect me to believe that?"
Hermione rolled over. "Do I have to give you the play-by-play?"
Lavender sighed and looked away. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I guess I'm in shock." She was silent for long enough to let a cloud pass, then said, "I do have some good news."
"And what's that?" Hermione asked, sitting up slowly.
She was silent again. Then she sighed and pushed hair out of her face. "I got a letter from the Ministry of Magic. They're going looking for Harry and Ginny tomorrow."
'