Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, or Hogwarts (or anything else JK I've used here.)

This is just something random I thought up. Sorry if it doesn't make sense, but it did in my head!

They had broken their vow so she could be with him, so they could be together, on the final night.

They sat together at the lake edge, framed by the setting sun. A light breeze ruffled her hair, lifting the raven locks from her shoulders, the strands tickling his cheek. She smelt of fresh spring flowers. He held her hand in his, his eyes staring out across the lake.

"Raphael." His voice was a whisper, carrying on the breeze to her ears, like the music of angels. She had always thought her name strange, chosen for its meaning, God heals, than for its beauty. But on his lips it sounded beautiful.

"I want to save myself for you."

She smiled faintly. "Save yourself?"

He looked at her. "I want it to be you. To be only you."

She turned, seeking his electric green eyes. "I love you."

His lips brushed hers in the lightest of touches, but she felt the kiss brush her soul.

"You are so beautiful."

She smiled. She knew she was beautiful, but to hear him say it gave it a different meaning. How many men had said that to her before? How many men had held her hand and kissed her as she drifted in and out of their lives, soon forgotten as a whisper in the night. She had captured the hearts of many, but hers had remained untouched.

Until she found him. His soul had been crying out in pain, he was alone, so alone. She had gone to him, never expecting to find something else there, never expecting to stay.

His lips brushed her hair, as he leaned towards her. "Marry me."

She laughed, a beautiful sound in the quiet of the night. Her face was enigmatic with light, blue eyes dancing as she whispered in his ear "I will."

"That night, will be the night," he said softly. "I vow."

"That night. I vow."

And so their vow was made. They would not be bound in flesh until their wedding night, until they knew that their bond would not be broken, and the deepest intimacy would be shared with no other.

She drifted across the lawns in front of the school, her feet so light they barely touched the grass. She was like an angel, from another time and another place.

The clouds overhead were full and heavy. It was going to rain. She didn't mind the rain.

"You should not be here."

She gasped as the voice flooded over her from above. Out from the very clouds themselves stepped a whispery, white figure. It sailed down to her, landing in the solid form of a man, a man she knew too well.

"You are destroying the course of time."

She turned away, her eyes closed. She did not want to hear this, did not want to face up to what she knew must come.

"You cannot stay here."

"Why not?" she snapped. "Why can't I stay here? I'm happy here, I belong here."

"You belong with your brothers and sisters. Raphael-" He took a step towards her, kindness written on his face. "You are a Spirit of Time. You cannot stay on Earth. We were made to heal, to wander from soul to soul. Not to stay."

"But I love him." Her voice was barely a whisper.

He smiled sadly. "We were not meant to love. You are immortal. It is not your place to live as one of them."

She whirled, suddenly angry. "Then strip me of my powers," she cried. "Make me mortal, so I can live out my days here."

"You know I cannot. You know we must do what is written. If you stay here, if you marry this mortal, you will be changing his future, his destiny. You may have already changed it. Who knows how much damage is done."

"Is that all I've done?" she asked bitterly. "Damage?"

"No," he replied. "You have saved him. You have done what was needed."

"I did more that that! I was there with him. I watched his godfather die before his very eyes. I helped him drag the bodies of his two best friends out of the ruins of the Ministry. I was there for him when he had nothing left!"

"But you weren't there. Those are images you have fabricated yourself, and now even you are starting to believe them. Can you not remember why you went to him in the beginning? It was because of the deaths of his friends. You weren't there when they died."

She shook her head, confused. It was all so clear in her mind. She had met him in their first year at Hogwarts together, they had both been chosen for Gryffindor House. Yes, that was real, she could still remember the roar of the students, the claps and cheers. It had to be real.   

"It is time for you to go."

"No. I can't. I can't leave him. He has nothing. No one."

"But he won't know. He won't remember."

She looked at him, aghast. Of course he couldn't be allowed to remember, why had she thought he would be any different? But the thought that he would have no memory of her, of all the time they had spent together. "It's unbearable," she whispered.

"That's the way it has to be." 

 Tears ran down her cheeks. "Please…"

"You must leave tonight, before anything else is changed, before more of his life plan his destroyed." He took a gentle step towards her, his hand brushing her wet cheek. "You belong with us, Raphael. I am sorry it has to be this way."

 And then he was gone.

Like a pronouncement of doom, the rain broke through, soaking her in seconds. She stood, numb, barely noticing.

But he won't know. He won't remember.

"Nooooo." The cry ripped from her throat, a scream, as she dropped to her knees on the sopping ground. Sobs racked her body, and she cried and cried until she had no tears left. Only then could she go back to the Castle. She knew she didn't have much time.

She gave him her ring, an intricate web of silver, tiny strands twisting into a swirl that represented the movement of a Time Spirit, given to herself by the Spirit King. He stared at it, confused.

"I don't understand," he said. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Because I love you." She took her hand in his. "Promise me," she whispered, "you'll never let it go. Even when you may not remember who gave it to you and why, never let it go."

He smiled. "I hardly think I shall forget."

"Promise me."

He kissed her gently on the forehead. "I promise you."

She held him close. "I want to be with you."

She felt him still slightly. "We said we would wait. We made a vow."

She looked at him. "That doesn't matter anymore, it's not important."

"Why isn't it important?"

"Because I love you, and you love me, and we don't know what may happen tomorrow."

He stared at her for a few moments, his eyes searching her face, trying to make some sense of her words.

Slowly, carefully he laid her back onto the bed, his lips pressing softly against hers.

He looked into her eyes. "Are you sure?"

She smiled, tears in her eyes. "Yes."

"I love you."

She felt her heart was breaking, but knew she would rather have her heart broken from tasting love than never have it broken at all.

They had broken their vow so she could be with him, so they could be together, on the final night.

As she lay in his arms, surrounded by quiet darkness, she knew the time had come. She wanted to stay here, safe, forever, but knew she could not.

She slipped from the bed, from his arms, and dressed.

He slept on, unaware that his love was about to disappear from his life forever.

She leant over him, savouring one last kiss. A single tear dropped onto his cheek. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

"Oh Spirit of Time, you have done your work. Make everything now how it was."

There was no visible change, but she knew it was done, knew if he now awoke he would no longer know who she was. She turned and walked away.

The old man was waiting for her outside. He did not speak, but held out a white misty hand. She took it, her body turning light like the whisper of a breeze, and together they drifted into the clouds.

When Harry Potter awoke on the morning of May 25th, he expected it to feel like every other morning since his two best friends had died. But this morning the heavy, almost suffocating grief was not quite so heavy, and not quite so suffocating.

He felt strangely fulfilled, as though something wonderful had happened to him, although he was not aware of any such thing.  He dressed quickly, and it was not until he pulled on his t-shirt that he noticed the ring.

It was beautiful. The most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, though he had no idea where it had come from. He was about to take it off, when a voice entered his mind, a voice so familiar it made him want to cry out, but at the same time a voice he'd never before heard.

"Promise me you'll never let it go. Even when you may not remember who gave it to you and why, never let it go."

He frowned slightly. Maybe he was just going barmy. Nevertheless, he didn't take the ring off, although he couldn't explain why.

The same way he couldn't explain why the scent of fresh flowers made him smile and imagine the softest black hair, whispered words in his ear "I will."

Or why when, one day, he saw a hauntingly beautiful girl in the street he wanted to run to her and throw his arms around her. The girl seemed to float down the street rather than walk, and her ebony hair shone in the sun. Her blue eyes met his, and for a split second her name was on the tip of his tongue, but then it was gone, and he barely even remembered seeing her at all.

The ring was always on his finger. He would never take it off. Some strange feeling kept it there, although he didn't know what it was.

But she knew. And it broke her heart that he could not recognise it. Love.

The End.