Author's note: Nothing much to say up here, except that this is the end of the story and it is told from Ron's POV. RON'S. I want to stress that point because if you don't know that, then this installment of the story will make absolutely no sense (not that it makes any right now). Please read my author's note at the end, though - there's some things I want to clear up.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for Brynne Sanders, who belongs to me. The song Amazed belongs to Lonestar.
The fog began to clear and I sat up, feeling extremely dizzy. My head was throbbing and the beating of my heart sounded oddly loud to my own ears. I sat there for a few moments before coming to my senses and then I remembered - the laugh, the light - the blinding light, the screams, the bangs, and Harry, and Hermione....oh God. Harry - Hermione - oh no, no. My headache seemed to vanish with the realization that I had no idea what had happened to my two best friends. I stood abruptly, but had to grab at one of the charred tables to steady myself, as my bruised lags were shaking - I couldn't tell if it was from apprehension or injury. The dust was clearing and I was able to look around. I saw Harry before long. He was covered in soot and was lying on his back, his head lifted a bit off the floor. He appeared to be entering consciousness as well. Thank God he's alive, I thought, my heart pounding wildly in my ears. I hobbled over to him, a searing pain shooting through my left knee. I hoped it wasn't permanent. Harry finally seemed to notice me as I knelt beside him. "Ron?" He asked warily, blinking at the sight of me bending over him.
"Yeah, Harry. It's me." He tried to sit up, but winced and fell back, a pained look on his face.
"Ron - my back...."
"It'll be alright, Harry," I said quickly, "I'll get help. But first we have to find Hermione..." I began scanning the room for any sign of her, beginning to feel sick with worry, and at the same time taking in the wreckage of the ruined common room. The once cozy, comfortable room was now torn apart, destroyed at the hands of Voldemort. The squashy armchairs by the fire which I had spent so many years in were ripped apart and strewn over the blackened floor, the table where Harry, Hermione and I always did our homework was charred and crumbling....I surveyed the room again for Hermione, hoping, praying -
"Ron," a weak voice called. I turned and saw Harry pointing, an odd expression on his face. "Hermione...."
"Oh....oh....no," I muttered, my feelings coming out in fragments as I followed the direction of his index finger to where he was pointing, to where Hermione lay, dirty and still. "Oh -" I cursed, forgetting my injured leg and hurrying across the room, dropping to my knees beside her. "Hermione, wake up, wake up. Wake UP, Hermione, wake up! Oh....oh....oh God...." I grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently, wanting a reaction, a sign of life - something - anything - "Come ON, Hermione, get up -" Harry, who had managed to slither across the floor without hurting his back, joined me at Hermione's side.
"Ron....she'll be alright," he said quietly, a tentative, gentle tone to his voice. I could tell that he was trying to reassure himself as well. I ignored him and went on trying to revive Hermione.
"Hermione - Hermione, no. Don't do this to me Hermione - don't - oh - oh -" I was nearly in hysterics, but there were no tears. Not yet. Don't cry, I told myself, there's still hope - and yet, Hermione's head continued to roll hopelessly from side to side. I glanced at Harry for some comfort, guidance, something to get me out of my hysteria, but he turned away. Not soon enough, though. I saw a tear slide down his cheek. He hastily reached up to wipe it away, but another fell, and then another. He dropped the delicate hand he'd been using to find a pulse and buried his face into his grimy robes, the muffled sobs racking his body, the tears dripping on to the floor in front of him. No, no, no, I told myself fiercely. Just because Harry lost hope doesn't mean you have to, too! But my eyes began to tear up in spite of myself. Hope was slipping away from me, falling like sand through my fingers.
A silent tear coursed down my cheek. I wiped it away hurriedly, still refusing to cry. As I did, the salty liquid passed over the grime and soot on my cheek, thickening it and smearing it over my fingers. I didn't realize this until I brought my trembling hand to Hermione's pale cheek. I touched my thumb to her cheekbone and tenderly brought it down the side of her face, leaving a streak of soot - of sorrow, of pain, of friendship....and....and something else. It was an emotion I'd felt before, one I remembered feeling when she looked into my eyes on the Hogwarts Express. And it was then as I sat, staring at the smudge I'd made on her face, feeling the tingling warmth of her skin beneath my blackened fingers that I saw it - that I tackled it head-on.
My eyes widened with the realization and I choked on the sobs that were suddenly rising in my throat. Love. LOVE. Why hadn't I seen it before? Every time I'd teased her, every time we'd laughed together, every time she'd turned to me crying for help....oh God. I LOVED her. The tears flowed freely now - there was no reason to hold them in. Harry wasn't. Harry - I suddenly remembered him sobbing beside me. He stared at me, his tearstained face shining in the dim, dusty light that filled the room. One look into his emerald green eyes told me all I needed to know. He understood. We'd always had a special bond, always known what the other was thinking. And another look into those tragic eyes told me that there was more to the scene than I thought. "What?" I asked quietly, dreading the answer. But the answer was not at all what I expected.
"She - she -" Harry avoided my eyes, stammering out the things he wanted to tell me, but couldn't.
"What?" I asked again, more gently this time.
"She loved you." He said it so firmly, so bluntly, that I knew it was true. But it still seemed too impossible to be real.
"She - she what?" I gasped.
"She made me swear never to tell, she told me that she always had and that she - she always would...." Tears stung in my eyes as I looked at her limp form and replied, in a voice barely audible.
"I loved her too, Harry. I - I never knew it, but I did." He put a trembling hand on my shoulder and I looked again at Hermione, barely aware of it. "I love you, Hermione, I whispered. And suddenly, as if on cue, I was bending over her, watching her unmoving face coming closer to mine. She'd told me a muggle story about this once - a princess had fallen in love with a prince, and then an evil witch had put some kind of spell on her....I couldn't remember exactly. But the point was, the spell had been lifted off the princess by a single kiss from the prince. Perhaps - of course, it would probably have no effect, I reminded myself, watching her face come closer - Hermione wasn't under a spell, and I was hardly a prince. But maybe, maybe - please, I prayed. Her face was an inch away from mine now. Maybe my love would be enough. Harry, who had long since realized the scenario, had taken his hand off my shoulder. In my head I could see a picture of him sitting behind me, rubbing his scar in anxiety, the tears still streaming down his cheeks, and I knew he was praying too. I swallowed hard. My last chance. I took a deep breath. I was ready. I allowed myself to dip the last inch and touch my dry, cracked lips to hers. Even in her still, lifeless form it felt wonderful to kiss her - to hold the girl I loved and know she loved me back, even if she didn't know it at the moment. I lifted my head reluctantly, never wanting to let her go. But I had to. I sat up slowly, Harry's hand on my shoulder again. We both watched her face, searching for anything that would convince us that she wasn't - that she wasn't.....oh God. I couldn't even bring myself to think the word. We'd just about given up. I turned away to hide my tears and was about to get up to run away, to somewhere where I didn't have to see her lifeless figure when Harry spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Ron - look." And I did. Her eyelashes - her beautiful eyelashes - were fluttering. I took a deep breath and watched, waiting. After a few moments the fluttered open, revealing her rather dazed looking eyes, the eyes I adored so much. Milk chocolate eyes, like cinnamon or gingerbread or a million other wonderful things. She blinked several times before finally realizing where she was, and then her enchanting eyes clouded with worry at the sight of our terrified faces.
"Ron - Harry?" A wave of delight washed over me and Harry and I let out the breaths we'd been holding, the tears falling again, but new ones this time. Tears of happiness, of relief, of joy, all of our emotions flowing out with them.
"Hermione!" I wailed into the shoulder of her robes, feeling very much like a five year old instead of the sixteen year old I really was.
"Ron - Ron...." she was stroking my hair. "Ron - you're alive! And I'm alive! And Harry's alive! What happened?" The sight of the two of us sobbing all over the place finally became too much for her, and she started up, too. "Harry, what are you doing? Get down here!" Laughing through her tears, she pulled the sobbing Harry down to join us and all three of us sat there, holding each other and crying, bonding.
After we'd all cried until there were no more tears to be shed, we got to talking. Harry filled Hermione in until just before the part about where he'd admitted that Hermione loved me. That's when we heard the footsteps, hundreds of them, thundering up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. And the voices. Oh, the voices. They were deafening. Harry shot us both a glance that said 'I'll handle this' and sprinted toward the portrait hole, his pained back forgotten. I motioned toward him and grinned. "Great guy," I told Hermione. She smiled, but was not to be distracted.
"Ron," she said softly, "what happened next?"
"Uhhh....well...." I wasn't sure if it would be the right thing to do to tell Hermione about Harry breaking her promise to him. I quickly decided on the truth, though. After all, she wouldn't have been alive just then if it hadn't been for him. "And then, Harry told me that - he told me that you loved me -" Her eyes went wide with shock and she turned away, blushing a brilliant shade of red. I caught her chin, though, and turned her face so that I was looking her straight in the eyes. I continued, "And then I realized that - that I loved you too." She broke into a smile, and yet more tears slid down her already tearstained cheeks. I wiped them away, never taking my eyes away from hers. If I had, I probably would have noticed the second soot streak I left on her face. But I didn't notice or care, and neither did she. "And then I kissed you and you came round. God, Hermione, we were so scared -" She cut me off.
"You love me, Ron?" she asked, as if not daring to believe it. I swallowed hard and vowed to be brave.
"Yes, Hermione, I do." My voice didn't quaver at all. I knew it was because I had so much confidence in the words I was saying.
"And you - you kissed me? And then I woke up, just like the fairy tale, and....and...." She ran out of words. I was somewhat speechless too. I decided to be brave. Pulling her close, I kissed her again. It was wonderful - the kiss said more than anything we could have said in words. It ended, and I stared into her eyes, the beautiful, sparkling eyes that I knew - and now loved.
* * *
If you asked me to repeat anything that occurred that night after that point, I wouldn't be able to tell you anything. All I could see was Hermione - everything else was a daze. Dumbledore must've come in, along with McGonagall and the rest of Gryffindor house. Forget Gryffindor house - the rest of the school. I reckon we told them what had happened with Voldemort. I remember a few words of the conversation, four hundred points each being the main ones.
We made it through the next few months without anything too unusual - at least, not too unusual for Hogwarts. The only odd thing I noticed had to do with Snape. He wasn't as brutal to us as he had been before. The change was so small, so gradual, that I didn't see it until a few weeks after it began. But it was definitely there. I wondered if, perhaps, he'd been tempted by the dark arts and was relieved to get out. But I wasn't sure and, to be frank, I didn't much care.
One day, in about mid-December, all the sixth and seventh year students received an interesting notice. We sixth year Gryffindors got ours during Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. She walked up and down the rows of desks. handing out slips of paper. I glanced at mine as she placed it on my desk and smiled a little. There was going to be a dance. Actually, I'd known about it for quite some time, having had five brothers attend it before me. The dance was in Hogsmeade, at some restaurant I'd seen before but hadn't entered. Hogwarts never held dances, but sponsored ones in Hogsmeade instead. From what I'd heard, they were pretty spectacular.
I glanced up at Hermione and she smiled at me and nodded, and I grinned back. I had a date. Reading through the notice, I saw that attendance was not required, but then again it didn't need to be. Everyone around me was talking excitedly, already anticipating the day. Someone poked me sharply in the ribs and I turned and saw Harry grinning.
"Should we?" I shrugged.
"Why not?" He jerked his head in the direction of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who were looking just a little TOO excited. Harry put on a squeaky voice and flipped some invisible hair over his shoulder.
"Oh, my God. This is gonna be, like, so incredibly cool! I, like, canNOT wait. Oh, my God, I have, like, nothing to wear! Oh no! Whatever am I, like, going to do?" I grinned.
"I honestly wonder about their sanity sometimes...." I trailed off as Hermione appeared next to me. The bell signaling the end of class was due to ring, and so McGonagall had wisely allowed us to talk and pack up our bags for the remainder of the session. I think she realized that there was no way we'd get anything done after finding out about the dance. Hermione seated herself on the edge of my desk and rolled her eyes.
"Wardrobe crisis," she said, gesturing toward Lavender and Parvati.
"Again?" I asked incredulously.
"They seem to have an awful lot of those, don't they?" Harry asked with a grin.
"Mmmm hmmm," Hermione answered, stuffing the letter into her bag.
"Should we go?" Harry inquired, looking to Hermione.
"I don't see why not," she answered, "I mean, even if the Ditz Queens over there do show up, it'll be the same as any other day. We do live with them, remember?"
"Of course I remember," I said, getting out of my seat and picking up my bag, "what I want to know is why you had to remind me."
"Ha ha," said Hermione, pushing herself off my desk and slinging her bag over her shoulder. The bell rang, and we filed out of the room, still talking excitedly.
* * *
The next few weeks went by quickly, everyone still anticipating the dance. It was to be held the night before winter vacation began, and so about two weeks before Christmas, Dumbledore and McGonagall arranged a train to Hogsmeade for the sixth and seven years so they could go shopping for clothes for the dance. Dress was formal, so we had to get something nice. I wrinkled my nose a little at the word formal. Just the thought of being stuck in a suit for three hours grossed me out. But, when the day of the Hogsmeade trip came, Harry and I dragged ourselves down to a store in the center of town and purchased suits (Dad had been promoted at work, and so we had nearly unlimited funds). Hermione had gone off to a store similar to Madam Malkin's with Lavender and Parvati, and refused to show us what she had gotten. But the smile on her face was huge, so I figured she was happy with her purchase.
On the night of the dance, I sat in the common room with Harry, Dean, Seamus and Neville, waiting for the sixth year girls to come down. We had been told to meet in the Great Hall at 6:45 so there would be time to get everyone assembled and on to the train for the half-hour ride to Hogsmeade. I was a bit amused at the fact that all the formally-dressed students would be arriving at the dance in the old Hogwarts Express, but it was the only way of transportation besides brooms.
We laughed and joked for awhile, but stopped short as we heard the door to the girls' dormitory creak open. We watched the stairs expectantly, waiting for them to come down. I could hear their footsteps on the wooden stairs, and when they finally emerged into the common room, I felt my mouth drop open. Hermione wasn't exceptionally beautiful, but she could be a real knockout sometimes. Like now. She was in a long, light purple dress that had thin straps and seemed to sparkle somehow. Her hair was French-braided and had small flowers placed here and there that were the same color as her dress. Her cheeks were pink with excitement and her smile could light up the night sky. She was stunning. She walked over to Harry and I, smiling. "Well?" she asked with a small smile.
"Hermione, you look - you look - wow," I stammered, still staring at her.
"Is that a compliment?" she teased. Harry and I nodded our heads wildly, speechless. "Well - thanks!" She grinned and started toward the portrait hole, the rest of us following her. We hurried down to the Great Hall where the rest of the sixth and seventh years stood waiting for the train to arrive. I stood chatting with everyone else, but I wasn't really listening to what they were saying. I still couldn't take my eyes off Hermione. It wasn't so much the gown that made her beautiful - it was the look on her face. She positively glowed. I noticed even Malfoy staring at her in amazement. At the sight of this, I stifled a laugh and put an arm around her shoulders. I smirked at Malfoy, who glared at me for a moment, and then turned to Pansy Parkinson, who looked especially hideous in a spangly green gown, and slid his arms around her waist. I clamped a hand over my mouth to try and silence my laughter, but it was useless. Next to me, Harry was attempting the same. He failed. I turned away from the revolting sight just as Pansy began to pinch Draco's cheeks. Ugh.
Just then, Dumbledore's voice echoed across the hall. "Attention, students! The train has arrived. Please line up single-file and follow me." He led us out into the chilly night air and over to the train. I took a deep breath of the cool air - I loved the crisp feeling of it. I glanced over at Hermione, who was staring up at the sky with a small smile on her face. I glanced up for a moment, and was instantly mesmerized by the millions of stars winking down at us. Hermione smiled sheepishly at me.
"I love stars," she said, "aren't they amazing? There's so many of them." I looked up at them again. They'd never seemed so beautiful.
"Yes - they're wonderful," I said quietly. We had reached the station. I hopped on to the train and then reached out my hand to help Hermione up. I knew she didn't really need it, but I didn't want her to trip on her dress. Besides, I was feeling very gentleman-like for some reason that night. We settled into a compartment with Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor sixth years, and were off to Hogsmeade.
The village looked as wonderful as ever, with a fresh layer of snow all over the ground and the roofs of the tiny shops. The professors led us though the ice streets to the resturant where the dance was to be held. The room looked incredible, with billions of twinkling lights everywhere, and other decorations, like balloons and streamers. There was a disc jockey in the corner, armed with music from the magic world as well as the muggle one. Along one side of the room was a beautifully decorated table piled high with silver platters of food. Hermione dragged Harry and I over to the dance floor, where she proved to be a very good dancer. I found that I knew most of the songs they were playing - even some of the muggle ones, thanks to Hermione and her portable radio.
I had expected it to be very fancy, but it was more of a casual, have-a-good-time kind of dance. It definitely didn't seem as fancy when the DJ put on a new song and told us all to try something called "swing dancing." I had no idea what it was, but Hermione squealed in delight and grabbed my hands. I didn't take this as a good sign.
"Hermione - what are we doing?" I asked, confused.
"Here - I'll teach you," she said, lifting my arm and spinning under it. It actually wasn't so bad. We spent most of the song laughing hysterically as Hermione attempted to teach me some steps she'd learned at a summer course. I actually wasn't too bad at it. By the end of the song, I had the rhythm and was actually enjoying myself. Then, a slow song came on. Uh oh. I awkwardly put my arms around Hermione, not quite sure what to do, as this was the first dance I'd ever attended. But she smiled at me, and I relaxed. I flashed a grin at Harry, who was next to us with his arms around some cute Ravenclaw he'd met. He smiled back, and I turned to Hermione, rolling my eyes.
"This is Ginny's favorite singer," I told her, wrinkling my nose. She smiled.
"Who is it?"
"Celestina Warbeck," I said with a groan.
"Oh. She has a beautiful voice," Hermione offered. I sighed.
"Yeah, but this song kind of...." I trailed off, searching for the right word.
"Sucks?" Hermione supplied with a grin. I laughed.
"Yes, if you want to put it bluntly." The song ended, and we headed over to the table with all the food, feeling extremely hungry. We piled our plates and walked over to one of the tables that was already partly occupied by the rest of the Gryffindor sixth years. Harry introduced Hermione and I to the Ravenclaw. She was sweet, but I kept forgetting her name. It was Brynne or Briana or something.
The rest of the dance went in pretty much the same fashion. I even danced with Parvati. (Ugh. But it wasn't my fault - she asked me!) At the last dance, I found Hermione. I put my arms around her confidently this time - I was an expert at it by then. Harry was dancing with the Ravenclaw again. Brynne, her name was. Harry had gotten so annoyed when I couldn't remember that he'd dragged me off to the bathroom and made me say it fifteen times. Needless to say, I'd learned it. She really was pretty, with sparkling hazel eyes and long silky hair that was similar in color to Hermione's, but hung straight down her back. She looked kind of familiar - almost like the best friend of Harry's old girlfriend Cho. I wondered if she had an older sister. The song we were dancing to was a muggle song, one I'd never heard before. I stared at Hermione as the chorus came on, smiling at the accuracy of the lyrics.
I don't know how you do what you do.
I'm so in love with you
It just keeps getting better
I want to spend the rest of my life
With you by my side
Forever and ever
'Cause every little thing that you do
Baby I'm amazed by you.
Every word of it was true. I looked into her eyes. They were like a world of their own, a world where my life was complete, where everything made sense. And I planned to cherish every moment I spent looking into them.
The End.
Author's note: I hope you liked this part. I spent forever on it!!!! Please review it. I'm considering adding more on because it ended kinda quickly. Please tell me in your reviews if you think I should continue it, and email me with any ideas. Now, there's a couple of other things about the story I'd like to clear up.....
1. Some of you may be wondering about Brynne. Her name is pronounced BR-IN. I decided to add her in because there's girls in Gryffindor that we've met so far that I felt comfortable in putting Harry with (except maybe Ginny) and so I put him with someone from a different house. I didn't make it Cho because I don't like the idea of him dating an 'older woman.' For those of you who read From A Ravenclaw, Brynne is the younger sister of Erin Sanders, Cho's (invented) best friend. For all you Cho-lovers out there, you can just pretend that he was dancing with Cho and that Brynne never showed up.
2. I think you can tell why I had to write this from Ron's POV. Just in case you can't, here's the reason: I'd already started writing the story from Hermione's POV before the little Sleeping Beauty like plot came into my head, and I couldn't exactly write that part from her POV, being that she was unconscious for half the scene. I considered writing it from Harry's, but I wanted to try and portray Ron's emotions, which would have been way different from Harry's. (Of course, right after I began to formulate the story, I read From A Different Point Of View by WeasleyTwinsFan and sobbed all over my keyboard. Writing from Ron's POV didn't seem half as hard after that!)
Okay...um....that's it. Thanks for reading! And pretty PLEASE review.....
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for Brynne Sanders, who belongs to me. The song Amazed belongs to Lonestar.
The fog began to clear and I sat up, feeling extremely dizzy. My head was throbbing and the beating of my heart sounded oddly loud to my own ears. I sat there for a few moments before coming to my senses and then I remembered - the laugh, the light - the blinding light, the screams, the bangs, and Harry, and Hermione....oh God. Harry - Hermione - oh no, no. My headache seemed to vanish with the realization that I had no idea what had happened to my two best friends. I stood abruptly, but had to grab at one of the charred tables to steady myself, as my bruised lags were shaking - I couldn't tell if it was from apprehension or injury. The dust was clearing and I was able to look around. I saw Harry before long. He was covered in soot and was lying on his back, his head lifted a bit off the floor. He appeared to be entering consciousness as well. Thank God he's alive, I thought, my heart pounding wildly in my ears. I hobbled over to him, a searing pain shooting through my left knee. I hoped it wasn't permanent. Harry finally seemed to notice me as I knelt beside him. "Ron?" He asked warily, blinking at the sight of me bending over him.
"Yeah, Harry. It's me." He tried to sit up, but winced and fell back, a pained look on his face.
"Ron - my back...."
"It'll be alright, Harry," I said quickly, "I'll get help. But first we have to find Hermione..." I began scanning the room for any sign of her, beginning to feel sick with worry, and at the same time taking in the wreckage of the ruined common room. The once cozy, comfortable room was now torn apart, destroyed at the hands of Voldemort. The squashy armchairs by the fire which I had spent so many years in were ripped apart and strewn over the blackened floor, the table where Harry, Hermione and I always did our homework was charred and crumbling....I surveyed the room again for Hermione, hoping, praying -
"Ron," a weak voice called. I turned and saw Harry pointing, an odd expression on his face. "Hermione...."
"Oh....oh....no," I muttered, my feelings coming out in fragments as I followed the direction of his index finger to where he was pointing, to where Hermione lay, dirty and still. "Oh -" I cursed, forgetting my injured leg and hurrying across the room, dropping to my knees beside her. "Hermione, wake up, wake up. Wake UP, Hermione, wake up! Oh....oh....oh God...." I grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently, wanting a reaction, a sign of life - something - anything - "Come ON, Hermione, get up -" Harry, who had managed to slither across the floor without hurting his back, joined me at Hermione's side.
"Ron....she'll be alright," he said quietly, a tentative, gentle tone to his voice. I could tell that he was trying to reassure himself as well. I ignored him and went on trying to revive Hermione.
"Hermione - Hermione, no. Don't do this to me Hermione - don't - oh - oh -" I was nearly in hysterics, but there were no tears. Not yet. Don't cry, I told myself, there's still hope - and yet, Hermione's head continued to roll hopelessly from side to side. I glanced at Harry for some comfort, guidance, something to get me out of my hysteria, but he turned away. Not soon enough, though. I saw a tear slide down his cheek. He hastily reached up to wipe it away, but another fell, and then another. He dropped the delicate hand he'd been using to find a pulse and buried his face into his grimy robes, the muffled sobs racking his body, the tears dripping on to the floor in front of him. No, no, no, I told myself fiercely. Just because Harry lost hope doesn't mean you have to, too! But my eyes began to tear up in spite of myself. Hope was slipping away from me, falling like sand through my fingers.
A silent tear coursed down my cheek. I wiped it away hurriedly, still refusing to cry. As I did, the salty liquid passed over the grime and soot on my cheek, thickening it and smearing it over my fingers. I didn't realize this until I brought my trembling hand to Hermione's pale cheek. I touched my thumb to her cheekbone and tenderly brought it down the side of her face, leaving a streak of soot - of sorrow, of pain, of friendship....and....and something else. It was an emotion I'd felt before, one I remembered feeling when she looked into my eyes on the Hogwarts Express. And it was then as I sat, staring at the smudge I'd made on her face, feeling the tingling warmth of her skin beneath my blackened fingers that I saw it - that I tackled it head-on.
My eyes widened with the realization and I choked on the sobs that were suddenly rising in my throat. Love. LOVE. Why hadn't I seen it before? Every time I'd teased her, every time we'd laughed together, every time she'd turned to me crying for help....oh God. I LOVED her. The tears flowed freely now - there was no reason to hold them in. Harry wasn't. Harry - I suddenly remembered him sobbing beside me. He stared at me, his tearstained face shining in the dim, dusty light that filled the room. One look into his emerald green eyes told me all I needed to know. He understood. We'd always had a special bond, always known what the other was thinking. And another look into those tragic eyes told me that there was more to the scene than I thought. "What?" I asked quietly, dreading the answer. But the answer was not at all what I expected.
"She - she -" Harry avoided my eyes, stammering out the things he wanted to tell me, but couldn't.
"What?" I asked again, more gently this time.
"She loved you." He said it so firmly, so bluntly, that I knew it was true. But it still seemed too impossible to be real.
"She - she what?" I gasped.
"She made me swear never to tell, she told me that she always had and that she - she always would...." Tears stung in my eyes as I looked at her limp form and replied, in a voice barely audible.
"I loved her too, Harry. I - I never knew it, but I did." He put a trembling hand on my shoulder and I looked again at Hermione, barely aware of it. "I love you, Hermione, I whispered. And suddenly, as if on cue, I was bending over her, watching her unmoving face coming closer to mine. She'd told me a muggle story about this once - a princess had fallen in love with a prince, and then an evil witch had put some kind of spell on her....I couldn't remember exactly. But the point was, the spell had been lifted off the princess by a single kiss from the prince. Perhaps - of course, it would probably have no effect, I reminded myself, watching her face come closer - Hermione wasn't under a spell, and I was hardly a prince. But maybe, maybe - please, I prayed. Her face was an inch away from mine now. Maybe my love would be enough. Harry, who had long since realized the scenario, had taken his hand off my shoulder. In my head I could see a picture of him sitting behind me, rubbing his scar in anxiety, the tears still streaming down his cheeks, and I knew he was praying too. I swallowed hard. My last chance. I took a deep breath. I was ready. I allowed myself to dip the last inch and touch my dry, cracked lips to hers. Even in her still, lifeless form it felt wonderful to kiss her - to hold the girl I loved and know she loved me back, even if she didn't know it at the moment. I lifted my head reluctantly, never wanting to let her go. But I had to. I sat up slowly, Harry's hand on my shoulder again. We both watched her face, searching for anything that would convince us that she wasn't - that she wasn't.....oh God. I couldn't even bring myself to think the word. We'd just about given up. I turned away to hide my tears and was about to get up to run away, to somewhere where I didn't have to see her lifeless figure when Harry spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Ron - look." And I did. Her eyelashes - her beautiful eyelashes - were fluttering. I took a deep breath and watched, waiting. After a few moments the fluttered open, revealing her rather dazed looking eyes, the eyes I adored so much. Milk chocolate eyes, like cinnamon or gingerbread or a million other wonderful things. She blinked several times before finally realizing where she was, and then her enchanting eyes clouded with worry at the sight of our terrified faces.
"Ron - Harry?" A wave of delight washed over me and Harry and I let out the breaths we'd been holding, the tears falling again, but new ones this time. Tears of happiness, of relief, of joy, all of our emotions flowing out with them.
"Hermione!" I wailed into the shoulder of her robes, feeling very much like a five year old instead of the sixteen year old I really was.
"Ron - Ron...." she was stroking my hair. "Ron - you're alive! And I'm alive! And Harry's alive! What happened?" The sight of the two of us sobbing all over the place finally became too much for her, and she started up, too. "Harry, what are you doing? Get down here!" Laughing through her tears, she pulled the sobbing Harry down to join us and all three of us sat there, holding each other and crying, bonding.
After we'd all cried until there were no more tears to be shed, we got to talking. Harry filled Hermione in until just before the part about where he'd admitted that Hermione loved me. That's when we heard the footsteps, hundreds of them, thundering up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. And the voices. Oh, the voices. They were deafening. Harry shot us both a glance that said 'I'll handle this' and sprinted toward the portrait hole, his pained back forgotten. I motioned toward him and grinned. "Great guy," I told Hermione. She smiled, but was not to be distracted.
"Ron," she said softly, "what happened next?"
"Uhhh....well...." I wasn't sure if it would be the right thing to do to tell Hermione about Harry breaking her promise to him. I quickly decided on the truth, though. After all, she wouldn't have been alive just then if it hadn't been for him. "And then, Harry told me that - he told me that you loved me -" Her eyes went wide with shock and she turned away, blushing a brilliant shade of red. I caught her chin, though, and turned her face so that I was looking her straight in the eyes. I continued, "And then I realized that - that I loved you too." She broke into a smile, and yet more tears slid down her already tearstained cheeks. I wiped them away, never taking my eyes away from hers. If I had, I probably would have noticed the second soot streak I left on her face. But I didn't notice or care, and neither did she. "And then I kissed you and you came round. God, Hermione, we were so scared -" She cut me off.
"You love me, Ron?" she asked, as if not daring to believe it. I swallowed hard and vowed to be brave.
"Yes, Hermione, I do." My voice didn't quaver at all. I knew it was because I had so much confidence in the words I was saying.
"And you - you kissed me? And then I woke up, just like the fairy tale, and....and...." She ran out of words. I was somewhat speechless too. I decided to be brave. Pulling her close, I kissed her again. It was wonderful - the kiss said more than anything we could have said in words. It ended, and I stared into her eyes, the beautiful, sparkling eyes that I knew - and now loved.
* * *
If you asked me to repeat anything that occurred that night after that point, I wouldn't be able to tell you anything. All I could see was Hermione - everything else was a daze. Dumbledore must've come in, along with McGonagall and the rest of Gryffindor house. Forget Gryffindor house - the rest of the school. I reckon we told them what had happened with Voldemort. I remember a few words of the conversation, four hundred points each being the main ones.
We made it through the next few months without anything too unusual - at least, not too unusual for Hogwarts. The only odd thing I noticed had to do with Snape. He wasn't as brutal to us as he had been before. The change was so small, so gradual, that I didn't see it until a few weeks after it began. But it was definitely there. I wondered if, perhaps, he'd been tempted by the dark arts and was relieved to get out. But I wasn't sure and, to be frank, I didn't much care.
One day, in about mid-December, all the sixth and seventh year students received an interesting notice. We sixth year Gryffindors got ours during Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. She walked up and down the rows of desks. handing out slips of paper. I glanced at mine as she placed it on my desk and smiled a little. There was going to be a dance. Actually, I'd known about it for quite some time, having had five brothers attend it before me. The dance was in Hogsmeade, at some restaurant I'd seen before but hadn't entered. Hogwarts never held dances, but sponsored ones in Hogsmeade instead. From what I'd heard, they were pretty spectacular.
I glanced up at Hermione and she smiled at me and nodded, and I grinned back. I had a date. Reading through the notice, I saw that attendance was not required, but then again it didn't need to be. Everyone around me was talking excitedly, already anticipating the day. Someone poked me sharply in the ribs and I turned and saw Harry grinning.
"Should we?" I shrugged.
"Why not?" He jerked his head in the direction of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who were looking just a little TOO excited. Harry put on a squeaky voice and flipped some invisible hair over his shoulder.
"Oh, my God. This is gonna be, like, so incredibly cool! I, like, canNOT wait. Oh, my God, I have, like, nothing to wear! Oh no! Whatever am I, like, going to do?" I grinned.
"I honestly wonder about their sanity sometimes...." I trailed off as Hermione appeared next to me. The bell signaling the end of class was due to ring, and so McGonagall had wisely allowed us to talk and pack up our bags for the remainder of the session. I think she realized that there was no way we'd get anything done after finding out about the dance. Hermione seated herself on the edge of my desk and rolled her eyes.
"Wardrobe crisis," she said, gesturing toward Lavender and Parvati.
"Again?" I asked incredulously.
"They seem to have an awful lot of those, don't they?" Harry asked with a grin.
"Mmmm hmmm," Hermione answered, stuffing the letter into her bag.
"Should we go?" Harry inquired, looking to Hermione.
"I don't see why not," she answered, "I mean, even if the Ditz Queens over there do show up, it'll be the same as any other day. We do live with them, remember?"
"Of course I remember," I said, getting out of my seat and picking up my bag, "what I want to know is why you had to remind me."
"Ha ha," said Hermione, pushing herself off my desk and slinging her bag over her shoulder. The bell rang, and we filed out of the room, still talking excitedly.
* * *
The next few weeks went by quickly, everyone still anticipating the dance. It was to be held the night before winter vacation began, and so about two weeks before Christmas, Dumbledore and McGonagall arranged a train to Hogsmeade for the sixth and seven years so they could go shopping for clothes for the dance. Dress was formal, so we had to get something nice. I wrinkled my nose a little at the word formal. Just the thought of being stuck in a suit for three hours grossed me out. But, when the day of the Hogsmeade trip came, Harry and I dragged ourselves down to a store in the center of town and purchased suits (Dad had been promoted at work, and so we had nearly unlimited funds). Hermione had gone off to a store similar to Madam Malkin's with Lavender and Parvati, and refused to show us what she had gotten. But the smile on her face was huge, so I figured she was happy with her purchase.
On the night of the dance, I sat in the common room with Harry, Dean, Seamus and Neville, waiting for the sixth year girls to come down. We had been told to meet in the Great Hall at 6:45 so there would be time to get everyone assembled and on to the train for the half-hour ride to Hogsmeade. I was a bit amused at the fact that all the formally-dressed students would be arriving at the dance in the old Hogwarts Express, but it was the only way of transportation besides brooms.
We laughed and joked for awhile, but stopped short as we heard the door to the girls' dormitory creak open. We watched the stairs expectantly, waiting for them to come down. I could hear their footsteps on the wooden stairs, and when they finally emerged into the common room, I felt my mouth drop open. Hermione wasn't exceptionally beautiful, but she could be a real knockout sometimes. Like now. She was in a long, light purple dress that had thin straps and seemed to sparkle somehow. Her hair was French-braided and had small flowers placed here and there that were the same color as her dress. Her cheeks were pink with excitement and her smile could light up the night sky. She was stunning. She walked over to Harry and I, smiling. "Well?" she asked with a small smile.
"Hermione, you look - you look - wow," I stammered, still staring at her.
"Is that a compliment?" she teased. Harry and I nodded our heads wildly, speechless. "Well - thanks!" She grinned and started toward the portrait hole, the rest of us following her. We hurried down to the Great Hall where the rest of the sixth and seventh years stood waiting for the train to arrive. I stood chatting with everyone else, but I wasn't really listening to what they were saying. I still couldn't take my eyes off Hermione. It wasn't so much the gown that made her beautiful - it was the look on her face. She positively glowed. I noticed even Malfoy staring at her in amazement. At the sight of this, I stifled a laugh and put an arm around her shoulders. I smirked at Malfoy, who glared at me for a moment, and then turned to Pansy Parkinson, who looked especially hideous in a spangly green gown, and slid his arms around her waist. I clamped a hand over my mouth to try and silence my laughter, but it was useless. Next to me, Harry was attempting the same. He failed. I turned away from the revolting sight just as Pansy began to pinch Draco's cheeks. Ugh.
Just then, Dumbledore's voice echoed across the hall. "Attention, students! The train has arrived. Please line up single-file and follow me." He led us out into the chilly night air and over to the train. I took a deep breath of the cool air - I loved the crisp feeling of it. I glanced over at Hermione, who was staring up at the sky with a small smile on her face. I glanced up for a moment, and was instantly mesmerized by the millions of stars winking down at us. Hermione smiled sheepishly at me.
"I love stars," she said, "aren't they amazing? There's so many of them." I looked up at them again. They'd never seemed so beautiful.
"Yes - they're wonderful," I said quietly. We had reached the station. I hopped on to the train and then reached out my hand to help Hermione up. I knew she didn't really need it, but I didn't want her to trip on her dress. Besides, I was feeling very gentleman-like for some reason that night. We settled into a compartment with Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor sixth years, and were off to Hogsmeade.
The village looked as wonderful as ever, with a fresh layer of snow all over the ground and the roofs of the tiny shops. The professors led us though the ice streets to the resturant where the dance was to be held. The room looked incredible, with billions of twinkling lights everywhere, and other decorations, like balloons and streamers. There was a disc jockey in the corner, armed with music from the magic world as well as the muggle one. Along one side of the room was a beautifully decorated table piled high with silver platters of food. Hermione dragged Harry and I over to the dance floor, where she proved to be a very good dancer. I found that I knew most of the songs they were playing - even some of the muggle ones, thanks to Hermione and her portable radio.
I had expected it to be very fancy, but it was more of a casual, have-a-good-time kind of dance. It definitely didn't seem as fancy when the DJ put on a new song and told us all to try something called "swing dancing." I had no idea what it was, but Hermione squealed in delight and grabbed my hands. I didn't take this as a good sign.
"Hermione - what are we doing?" I asked, confused.
"Here - I'll teach you," she said, lifting my arm and spinning under it. It actually wasn't so bad. We spent most of the song laughing hysterically as Hermione attempted to teach me some steps she'd learned at a summer course. I actually wasn't too bad at it. By the end of the song, I had the rhythm and was actually enjoying myself. Then, a slow song came on. Uh oh. I awkwardly put my arms around Hermione, not quite sure what to do, as this was the first dance I'd ever attended. But she smiled at me, and I relaxed. I flashed a grin at Harry, who was next to us with his arms around some cute Ravenclaw he'd met. He smiled back, and I turned to Hermione, rolling my eyes.
"This is Ginny's favorite singer," I told her, wrinkling my nose. She smiled.
"Who is it?"
"Celestina Warbeck," I said with a groan.
"Oh. She has a beautiful voice," Hermione offered. I sighed.
"Yeah, but this song kind of...." I trailed off, searching for the right word.
"Sucks?" Hermione supplied with a grin. I laughed.
"Yes, if you want to put it bluntly." The song ended, and we headed over to the table with all the food, feeling extremely hungry. We piled our plates and walked over to one of the tables that was already partly occupied by the rest of the Gryffindor sixth years. Harry introduced Hermione and I to the Ravenclaw. She was sweet, but I kept forgetting her name. It was Brynne or Briana or something.
The rest of the dance went in pretty much the same fashion. I even danced with Parvati. (Ugh. But it wasn't my fault - she asked me!) At the last dance, I found Hermione. I put my arms around her confidently this time - I was an expert at it by then. Harry was dancing with the Ravenclaw again. Brynne, her name was. Harry had gotten so annoyed when I couldn't remember that he'd dragged me off to the bathroom and made me say it fifteen times. Needless to say, I'd learned it. She really was pretty, with sparkling hazel eyes and long silky hair that was similar in color to Hermione's, but hung straight down her back. She looked kind of familiar - almost like the best friend of Harry's old girlfriend Cho. I wondered if she had an older sister. The song we were dancing to was a muggle song, one I'd never heard before. I stared at Hermione as the chorus came on, smiling at the accuracy of the lyrics.
I don't know how you do what you do.
I'm so in love with you
It just keeps getting better
I want to spend the rest of my life
With you by my side
Forever and ever
'Cause every little thing that you do
Baby I'm amazed by you.
Every word of it was true. I looked into her eyes. They were like a world of their own, a world where my life was complete, where everything made sense. And I planned to cherish every moment I spent looking into them.
The End.
Author's note: I hope you liked this part. I spent forever on it!!!! Please review it. I'm considering adding more on because it ended kinda quickly. Please tell me in your reviews if you think I should continue it, and email me with any ideas. Now, there's a couple of other things about the story I'd like to clear up.....
1. Some of you may be wondering about Brynne. Her name is pronounced BR-IN. I decided to add her in because there's girls in Gryffindor that we've met so far that I felt comfortable in putting Harry with (except maybe Ginny) and so I put him with someone from a different house. I didn't make it Cho because I don't like the idea of him dating an 'older woman.' For those of you who read From A Ravenclaw, Brynne is the younger sister of Erin Sanders, Cho's (invented) best friend. For all you Cho-lovers out there, you can just pretend that he was dancing with Cho and that Brynne never showed up.
2. I think you can tell why I had to write this from Ron's POV. Just in case you can't, here's the reason: I'd already started writing the story from Hermione's POV before the little Sleeping Beauty like plot came into my head, and I couldn't exactly write that part from her POV, being that she was unconscious for half the scene. I considered writing it from Harry's, but I wanted to try and portray Ron's emotions, which would have been way different from Harry's. (Of course, right after I began to formulate the story, I read From A Different Point Of View by WeasleyTwinsFan and sobbed all over my keyboard. Writing from Ron's POV didn't seem half as hard after that!)
Okay...um....that's it. Thanks for reading! And pretty PLEASE review.....