WITHOUT REGRET
PROLOGUE
When she held my hand and smiled at me, I never thought of what a wonderful moment it was. When she kissed me, I never held her like we would never kiss again. I never spent any day with her as though it was the last we would have. I wasn't in it for the memories and the promises and the happiness. I was never in it for any of the things that love and loss are generally thought to entail. I was never in it for myself.
I loved her like I had never loved anyone or anything. She made my life what I had not thought it could ever be. She made me feel as though I was worth anything and everything, when all my life I had been nothing. She meant something to me, something that not my parents or brothers or even Harry could ever mean to me. She was perfect and imperfect and that's why she was beautiful.
If I had told her that I loved her every moment I thought it, my lips would never have uttered other words. If I could describe how beautiful she was, her perfection would have been marred by words that are too harsh to understand beauty. If I had treated her how I thought of her, she would be on a pedestal too high to reach. If I had given her all the devotion that I felt, she would have grown tired of my cherishing. As it is, I could never have known that what we felt for each other could be so entirely different; that the reality of what our love was could be so warped by my own misconceptions. I thought I could love without regret, but I suppose everybody is wrong sometimes.
CHAPTER 1 - THE PERFECT NIGHT
"A new year, eh, Harry?" said Ron, smiling as he, Harry, and Hermione were jostled into the Great Hall by the crowd. Ron knew this year would be different. No more would he be overshadowed by his brothers or by Harry. He was quidditch captain this year and there was no way he would be overlooked anymore.
"Though it won't be quite the same without Dumbledore, will it?" said Hermione sadly. Ron and Harry lowered their heads slightly. Their sixth year had been full of pain and loss, and though Voldemort was finally vanquished at Harry's hand, it had not come without a heavy price. Each of them could remember vividly the look of momentary triumph on Voldemort's face as Dumbledore fell to the floor of his own office. The summer had not passed without nightmares for each, but Dumbledore's last piece of advice to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before Voldemort had strode through his door rang in their ears as a piece of their memories of him.
"It is only after we have lost that which we love most," he had said, "that we can begin to love without regret."
Though none of them had understood at the time, the meaning of the words had sunk in for each as their respective summers passed. Hermione's parents had divorced, Ron's twin brothers had left home, and Harry had had to contend with Dumbledore's death over and over as he told various newspapers from around the world exactly what had happened.
During the previous year, each of them had been looking forward to the very best year yet, but with the demise of the person they all admired most, they knew that their seventh and final year at Hogwarts would be more of a challenge than they had bargained for. They had already kissed their adolescence goodbye and were fully realizing that after one short year they were free. Ron, especially, thought of this as they sat to the first meal of their last year as children.
Ron had had a long, lonely summer. He had attended a Quidditch camp in the Cotswalds for most of the summer, and his introversion assured him much time spent alone. He had thoroughly enjoyed flying, but he was used to a house full of people and by the end of the summer he had come to terms with the fact that he did not like being on his own. He knew this would be harder to avoid once he was expected to get a job and move out, without Hogwarts to surround him with possible company. Then he had realized that it wasn't everyone at Hogwarts that surrounded him.
The Hall was unusually silent as Professor McGonagall rose to give the start of term announcements. However, it was not the rapt, excited silence that Dumbledore established. It was the kind of silence that was commanded by disappointment. A dead silence. The announcements were delivered quickly and without emotion. Ron, Harry, and Hermione barely heard what was said. Even Hermione, usually so attentive, was staring down at her food. The atmosphere of jubilant tumult that always filled the air on the first day of school had dissipated. All that was left was a sort of stale emptiness. Nobody talked as they walked through the halls but the first years, who were blissfully unaware of the gloom that had settled on the older students. Somehow Ron begrudged them their innocence. He supposed at first it was because they didn't know how much Dumbledore meant to some, but then he knew it was something more. He thought of his own first year, and how everything had been a great adventure. Even when he had been in danger, it had all somehow seemed to be fun. He had not ever anticipated age and the burden of responsibility he would one day bear. He knew that everyone deserved this, and yet he wished that the first years would stop being exactly what he wanted. "The first years seem a bit annoying this year, don't they?" whispered Hermione into Ron's ear. He smiled. When the three reached the portrait hole, they stopped. "Did anyone listen when McGonagall was telling the prefects the password?" asked Harry. Ron and Hermione both shook their heads. For a moment they all stood, unable to think of what to do. "I have an idea." Said Ron, his eyes glinting. Harry would not be the only mischievous one this year. He led Harry and Hermione through long corridors, and soon they had all broken into a run, laughing, all the spirit of their first year back. They flew up long spiral staircases until they could barely walk. Finally they reached a large door. "Aloho - mora," Ron panted, then moved aside to let Hermione push the door open. She gasped. They were on top of a turret, overlooking the lake and all the countryside around Hogwarts. A million stars burst forth, untouched by the thin rays of light swirling on the ground, reflected from windows. Hermione clutched her cloak to her and Ron moved closer, smiling as he looked out into the sky. "The perfect night." He whispered to himself.
After a long while, Harry yawned and stretched.
"I think we'd better head off to bed, don't you?" he said, scratching his ruffled hair. Hermione looked as though she was very reluctant to leave, still entranced.
"We'll stay a little while longer and see you in the morning, eh mate?" said Ron, glancing quickly at Hermione.
"All right then, see you later." Harry crossed the small platform and disappeared through the door. Ron turned back to the stars and sighed deeply.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" said Hermione, dreamily. "I don't understand people who teach astronomy. How can you turn beauty into logic?"
"Hermione," said Ron tentatively.
"Mmm?" she didn't take her eyes from the stars.
"This is really beautiful. But I can't help thinking that sometimes it's ugly too."
"Like when?" said Hermione skeptically.
"Like when I compare it to you." Hermione stopped looking at the stars.
"What?" she asked breathlessly.
"Hermione," said Ron, taking a deep breath, "I want you to be my girlfriend." Hermione looked awestruck.
"You - what?"
"Will you be my girlfriend?" Ron asked, suddenly thinking that this had not gone the way he had hoped.
"I - well, I mean," Hermione stuttered hopelessly, "Yes." Ron's heart soared. He took her into his arms and twirled her around, smiling and laughing with joy and relief. After he put her down, they stood in silence for a long time, Ron's arms wrapped around Hermione's waist. They had lost their childhood that night, and although it meant a great deal to each of them, at last they appreciated what it meant to love without regret.
PROLOGUE
When she held my hand and smiled at me, I never thought of what a wonderful moment it was. When she kissed me, I never held her like we would never kiss again. I never spent any day with her as though it was the last we would have. I wasn't in it for the memories and the promises and the happiness. I was never in it for any of the things that love and loss are generally thought to entail. I was never in it for myself.
I loved her like I had never loved anyone or anything. She made my life what I had not thought it could ever be. She made me feel as though I was worth anything and everything, when all my life I had been nothing. She meant something to me, something that not my parents or brothers or even Harry could ever mean to me. She was perfect and imperfect and that's why she was beautiful.
If I had told her that I loved her every moment I thought it, my lips would never have uttered other words. If I could describe how beautiful she was, her perfection would have been marred by words that are too harsh to understand beauty. If I had treated her how I thought of her, she would be on a pedestal too high to reach. If I had given her all the devotion that I felt, she would have grown tired of my cherishing. As it is, I could never have known that what we felt for each other could be so entirely different; that the reality of what our love was could be so warped by my own misconceptions. I thought I could love without regret, but I suppose everybody is wrong sometimes.
CHAPTER 1 - THE PERFECT NIGHT
"A new year, eh, Harry?" said Ron, smiling as he, Harry, and Hermione were jostled into the Great Hall by the crowd. Ron knew this year would be different. No more would he be overshadowed by his brothers or by Harry. He was quidditch captain this year and there was no way he would be overlooked anymore.
"Though it won't be quite the same without Dumbledore, will it?" said Hermione sadly. Ron and Harry lowered their heads slightly. Their sixth year had been full of pain and loss, and though Voldemort was finally vanquished at Harry's hand, it had not come without a heavy price. Each of them could remember vividly the look of momentary triumph on Voldemort's face as Dumbledore fell to the floor of his own office. The summer had not passed without nightmares for each, but Dumbledore's last piece of advice to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before Voldemort had strode through his door rang in their ears as a piece of their memories of him.
"It is only after we have lost that which we love most," he had said, "that we can begin to love without regret."
Though none of them had understood at the time, the meaning of the words had sunk in for each as their respective summers passed. Hermione's parents had divorced, Ron's twin brothers had left home, and Harry had had to contend with Dumbledore's death over and over as he told various newspapers from around the world exactly what had happened.
During the previous year, each of them had been looking forward to the very best year yet, but with the demise of the person they all admired most, they knew that their seventh and final year at Hogwarts would be more of a challenge than they had bargained for. They had already kissed their adolescence goodbye and were fully realizing that after one short year they were free. Ron, especially, thought of this as they sat to the first meal of their last year as children.
Ron had had a long, lonely summer. He had attended a Quidditch camp in the Cotswalds for most of the summer, and his introversion assured him much time spent alone. He had thoroughly enjoyed flying, but he was used to a house full of people and by the end of the summer he had come to terms with the fact that he did not like being on his own. He knew this would be harder to avoid once he was expected to get a job and move out, without Hogwarts to surround him with possible company. Then he had realized that it wasn't everyone at Hogwarts that surrounded him.
The Hall was unusually silent as Professor McGonagall rose to give the start of term announcements. However, it was not the rapt, excited silence that Dumbledore established. It was the kind of silence that was commanded by disappointment. A dead silence. The announcements were delivered quickly and without emotion. Ron, Harry, and Hermione barely heard what was said. Even Hermione, usually so attentive, was staring down at her food. The atmosphere of jubilant tumult that always filled the air on the first day of school had dissipated. All that was left was a sort of stale emptiness. Nobody talked as they walked through the halls but the first years, who were blissfully unaware of the gloom that had settled on the older students. Somehow Ron begrudged them their innocence. He supposed at first it was because they didn't know how much Dumbledore meant to some, but then he knew it was something more. He thought of his own first year, and how everything had been a great adventure. Even when he had been in danger, it had all somehow seemed to be fun. He had not ever anticipated age and the burden of responsibility he would one day bear. He knew that everyone deserved this, and yet he wished that the first years would stop being exactly what he wanted. "The first years seem a bit annoying this year, don't they?" whispered Hermione into Ron's ear. He smiled. When the three reached the portrait hole, they stopped. "Did anyone listen when McGonagall was telling the prefects the password?" asked Harry. Ron and Hermione both shook their heads. For a moment they all stood, unable to think of what to do. "I have an idea." Said Ron, his eyes glinting. Harry would not be the only mischievous one this year. He led Harry and Hermione through long corridors, and soon they had all broken into a run, laughing, all the spirit of their first year back. They flew up long spiral staircases until they could barely walk. Finally they reached a large door. "Aloho - mora," Ron panted, then moved aside to let Hermione push the door open. She gasped. They were on top of a turret, overlooking the lake and all the countryside around Hogwarts. A million stars burst forth, untouched by the thin rays of light swirling on the ground, reflected from windows. Hermione clutched her cloak to her and Ron moved closer, smiling as he looked out into the sky. "The perfect night." He whispered to himself.
After a long while, Harry yawned and stretched.
"I think we'd better head off to bed, don't you?" he said, scratching his ruffled hair. Hermione looked as though she was very reluctant to leave, still entranced.
"We'll stay a little while longer and see you in the morning, eh mate?" said Ron, glancing quickly at Hermione.
"All right then, see you later." Harry crossed the small platform and disappeared through the door. Ron turned back to the stars and sighed deeply.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" said Hermione, dreamily. "I don't understand people who teach astronomy. How can you turn beauty into logic?"
"Hermione," said Ron tentatively.
"Mmm?" she didn't take her eyes from the stars.
"This is really beautiful. But I can't help thinking that sometimes it's ugly too."
"Like when?" said Hermione skeptically.
"Like when I compare it to you." Hermione stopped looking at the stars.
"What?" she asked breathlessly.
"Hermione," said Ron, taking a deep breath, "I want you to be my girlfriend." Hermione looked awestruck.
"You - what?"
"Will you be my girlfriend?" Ron asked, suddenly thinking that this had not gone the way he had hoped.
"I - well, I mean," Hermione stuttered hopelessly, "Yes." Ron's heart soared. He took her into his arms and twirled her around, smiling and laughing with joy and relief. After he put her down, they stood in silence for a long time, Ron's arms wrapped around Hermione's waist. They had lost their childhood that night, and although it meant a great deal to each of them, at last they appreciated what it meant to love without regret.