Lost and Found 
Chapter 4: Moving Foward 
written by: misanoe 



 "GYAAAH!" Bill scrambled off the ground and bumped his head on the branch 
above him. "Owwww." He fell on his butt, his head ricocheting from the branch 
to the ground. 


 For the last few days, every time Bill closed his eyes to rest; he swore 
that he felt something watching him. It was the same feeling you get when 
your alone, and your sure if you turn around you will find a person right 
behind you. The intense feeling got so strong that Bill would lie there with 
his eyes closed, suddenly opening them in hopes of catching a glimpse of his 
imaginary intruder. 
 He had once even gone so far as to venture out and about the woods, his 
wand lighting his way in the dark night. Never had he once found anything, 
and he was tired of trying. After a while, he decided to ignore his 
"feelings" and to pretend everything was fine. He just added it to his I'm 
going crazy list; which was rapidly growing longer and longer. 
 So of course, he did not open his eyes to check when he heard and 
imaginary person walking towards him to hover above him. He was determined to 
not give into his imagination and kept his eyes firmly shut, resisting the 
temptation to open them for just a second to check. Sadly enough, it was a 
leaf that had fallen on his face, which startled him into opening his eyes. 
So clearly he was not prepared to find a pair of dark glowing eyes peering down at 
him from above. Which leads us back to; 
 "GYAAAH!" Bill scrambled off the ground and bumped his head on the branch 
above him. "Owwww." He fell on his butt, his head ricocheting from the branch 
to the ground. 
 It was not something he was expected, and this was one of the few times 
he felt rather flustered. Great he thought to himself, he was becoming Percy. 


 Although academically Bill had the most in common with Percy, both 
being Head Boy's of Hogwarts; there were no two boys who's personalities 
resembled each others as little as possible. 
 Percy, he heard from Ron and of course could well imagine himself, was 
considered rather prudish at school. Walking around with his shoulders back 
and his chest thrust forward-- reminding everyone he was the Head Boy. As if 
they would be able to forget, with him constantly running about telling 
everyone what to do or not to do. It was no wonder that Fred and George 
picked on him so. Percy was easy to nettle and amusing to watch when he 
blustered up in indignation for some wrong that had been inflicted upon him. 
 When Bill had attended Hogwarts, he had been less prim; more laid back 
and easy going. Perhaps he had been a bit of a womanizer, but he was a good 
looking chap and that was something he couldn't help. He gave a slight smile 
as he remembered the many girls at Hogwarts that had fallen for his roguish 
charms. 
 Percy had been a third year when Bill had been Head Boy. Bill knew that 
Percy didn't agree with how he conducted his affairs. On more then one 
occasion Percy made it apparent that he thought Bill to be too easy going, 
not strict enough; or he jumped around from girl to girl too often, and it 
reflected poorly on his character. His robes were to wrinkled, his hair was 
slightly awry. He hung out with his friends and females to much, not spending 
enough time in the library studying or doing extra curricular activities. 
Percy was always following him, nagging Bill on setting a good example for 
the other students. He was proud that his older brother was Head Boy, but he 
thoroughly disagreed on how Bill filled his position. 
 So intent was he on changing his brother's behavior, that he began to 
actually irritate Bill, who to get rid of him said, "When you're Head Boy do 
what you want, but for the love of everything good and my sanity, stop 
nagging me. Really you're worse then mum." 
 Percy huffed and puffed but left Bill alone. And afterwards Bill was sure 
that Percy kept a hidden notebook of all the wrongs Bill committed as Head 
Boy, to file for future reference of things not to do when he was Head Boy at 
Hogwarts. 
 As brothers they love each other; as two very different young men, they 
didn't understand each other. 


 "Hermione!" Before she could disappear he grabbed her wrist letting go 
instantly when he felt a shock where his skin had touched hers. 
She looked down at her arm, alarmed at what she had also felt. Staring at 
him curiously, she stepped in closer and brushed the back of her palm across 
his left cheek. 
 They were both assaulted with a strange tingling feeling, foreign, but not 
unwelcome. Bill held his breath as he saw her index finger rise to lightly 
trace his face. She bent down over him and peered closely at his skin, in awe 
of the feeling it evoked. Paying no attention to Bill who turned quite pale, 
she cupped his face with her hands and let them trail down his neck to his 
shoulders, where they lingered for several seconds. Actually, the sensation 
he felt when she touched his skin was rather pleasant. 
 Bill closed his eyes when he saw how close her face was to his. She was 
concentrating on his skin, her hands roaming around his body; his breath 
became ragged when she leaned her head in forward to brush her lips against 
his collar bone. 
 The slight flick of her tongue against his skin made his eyes fly wide 
open. Looking up in alarm, he could tell by the look on her face that she had 
no intent to seduce or bed him. She looked at his skin; her face furrowed in 
concentration, and he could tell that what she felt when she touched his skin 
was not a normal thing for her either. Bill was relieved, yet disappointed 
when she stood up away from him. He began to berate himself for his school 
boy behavior. He was acting like he had never been touched by a woman before. 
But her touch, his brain insisted, was different. 
 She began to walk away from him, her hair and robe swirling about her 
despite the lack of wind. 
 "Stop!" Bill croaked out hoarsely. 
 She did not acknowledge him and continued to walk. After several seconds 
she stopped, Bill's eyes turned incredibly big as he saw her levitate off the 
ground. She turned to look at him. 
 "What are you waiting for?" 
 Bill got up and ran towards her, giving a yelp of surprise when he felt 
an invisible hand lift him off his feet. "What the bloody hell?" He began to 
swear as he went higher and higher. Before he could catch his breath, he 
found himself hurtling forward faster then he could ever hope to go on his 
broom. 
 "Where are you taking me?" he blurted out, staring at the forest which 
was becoming a big thick blur as they gained speed. They were going deeper 
and deeper into the forest. He now realized the weeks he had traveled through 
the forest had not even been close to touching the heart of it. 
 "I'm taking you home to be my love slave." 
 Bill looked up at her startled and became a bright red shade, greatly 
flustered once again. 
 She rolled her eyes at his panicked look. "I'm just joking you know." She 
grinned. 
 Bill sent her a dark glare as he watched her settle down comfortably with 
her back towards him. 
 "You might as well get comfortable," she called out. "This trip is going 
to take a while." 
 It was disconcerting for Bill to see her curled up on thin air while they 
went streaking through the forest. But it was most disconcerting for Bill to 
look down and see himself thirty feet above air, swerving to and fro to avoid 
the trees before them. He looked at Hermione to focus his attention 
elsewhere, his mood serious once more as he realized who it was less then ten 
feet away from him. 
 "Hermione..." 
 She gave no acknowledgment of hearing him. He did not know if she was 
asleep or ignoring him; she just laid there, her back facing him. 


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 "Perhaps we should try and bring up the subject with them dear." Mr. 
Weasley brought up to Mrs. Weasley one sunny morning. 
 "She's been missing for almost two years, you do know the possibility of 
her being alive is minuscule. The most we can do is hold a funeral in her 
honor so her friends and family can say good-bye and move on with their 
lives." 
 "I know, I just don't know how I'm going to bring up the subject with 
them. You realize that Harry is still searching for her, and although Ron 
tries to convince Harry that it's useless to continue; even he still hopes 
that she might be alive. Without a body, they'll never know whether she is 
truly dead." 
 Mr. Weasley pulled Mrs. Weasley in his arms and murmured in her hair, 
"They're not the only ones that need to let go." 
 Mrs. Weasley began to sniffle into Mr. Weasley's shoulder. "I still 
can't believe that she's gone. If I try hard enough, I can almost make myself 
believe that she's out there, living her life in peace." 
 "You do know that not even Dumbledor-" Mr. Weasley's sentence was 
interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's sob. 
 "I know... I know. Still, hope is a powerful thing." 
 "That it is." Mr. Weasley tilted her chin up with his finger so he could 
stare at her tear streaked eyes. "But deep down you know, it's time to let 
go." 


		Hermione Granger 
		8-07-1986 - 5-01-2005 
		Outstanding Soul 
		Beloved Friend 
		May Your Spirit Rest in Peace, 
		Wherever You Are 

 Her funeral was held two and a half years after her disappearance. Her 
family, friends, and fellow students had come from wide and far to attend. 
It was a dismal day, as funerals go; the sky was cloudy and half way into 
the sermon, a light sprinkle kissed the grieving crowd below. The heaven's 
cried for her loss, joining the dozens of people in mourning. 
 When the sermon ended and the crowd dispersed, you could not help but 
overhear gossip that flew madly from group to group. "I heard she was killed 
by You-know-who," whispered an old witch with brown hair. "Poor dear, another 
victim of You-know-who," murmured the witch next to her. It was human nature 
to talk, and the rumor mill was fueled greatly when one very important person 
not only to the magic world, but to Hermione, did not show up. 
 It had been hard enough for Mrs. Weasley to get Ron to attend the 
funeral, but Harry was a lost cause. He was infuriated when he found out that 
they were holding a funeral for her. He flat out refused to come, and while 
everyone stood in front of a stone and mourned her loss; he searched for her. 
 Harry had sworn to himself that he would never give up. As long as there 
was no body, there was hope. And he clung to that hope desperately, refusing 
to let go. 


 A solitary figure stood on the hill her gravestone lay. Everyone else had 
left in a hurry, as the light sprinkle turned into a pouring drizzle. Another 
man with an umbrella climbed the small hill, to stop next to his brother. 
 "Are you okay?" 
 Ron didn't reply. 
 "I'll let you be alone for a bit." 
 Before Bill could leave, Ron spoke out into the air. 
 "Standing here," Ron searched for words to say while Bill waited 
patiently for him to continue. "I think I finally realize she's gone." He 
stared at the stone silent, weighing the words he spoke carefully in his 
head. 
 "I didn't understand why Mum and Dad were so insistent on holding this 
whole thing. It seemed to have no point, and it made me angry. God it made me 
angry. There wasn't even a body and here they were, willing to declare her 
dead. But standing here I know." The rain poured relentlessly on him, his wet 
red hair clinging to his head. 
 "She was my friend. I need to say good-bye, at least I now have 
something to say it to." 
 "Here take this Ron." Bill gave his umbrella to Ron who listlessly held 
onto it with one hand. "It's pouring. I'll wait for you at the bottom of the 
hill. Take your time." 
 Ron gave a slight nod. 


 Bill walked down the hill, the rain pouring on his now unprotected frame. 
When he got to the bottom he was thoroughly drenched, looking up he could 
make out the slight figure of Ron, whose shoulders were hunched forward; 
speaking to her stone. 
 Say your good-byes. Bill silently whispered to his little brother.
 
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 There was another figure with unruly black hair and thick black glasses 
hidden by the trees, who stood from afar and watched Ron mourn the loss of 
Hermione. 
 She was gone and I was unable to find her. Unable to save her from 
whatever had happened. Why was it the people I cared the most about 
disappeared or vanished from my life, leaving me with things that didn't 
matter. I now went on with the hope that I would find her. For over two 
years I've searched, and I won't stop. I will ... find her.
	

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