HEY!!! Welcome to my (Chica890) first all-Ron/Hermione story EVER! This idea came to me all of ten minutes ago, which is about how long it took me to turn on my computer and open Microsoft Word. Actually only about the first two chapters came to me. But whatever. I'll improvise from there. Although now that I think about it, I can't use a chapter I took out of Sixteen (which I WILL be reposting soon, don't worry!) because it won't work with the setting. I can use a different one of the chapters, though. Or I could just not use any at all and put those two into a one-shot or something. Maybe that's what I'll do.
Anyway, before I put you all to sleep, if I already haven't, here's the story. Don't ask about the title, I have no idea why I named it this, but it seems to go with Ron/Hermione stuff.
With that said... ONWARD!
da da DA!
Never Say Never
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or references that you recognize. Please don't sure me, J.K., I mean well. And I'm totally your numero uno fan...-o! Woohoo!
PG-13: Nothing terrible, just some language and stuff.
Chapter One: A Terrible Goodbye
Hermione Granger was one miserable girl. She wasn't depressed or anything, today was just an exceptionably miserable day. Possibly, she thought, the most miserable day of her life.
The owl had come just two weeks ago from today, bringing the bad news to add to an already horrible occasion.
No, not a horrible occasion! Honestly, this should be one of the proudest days of your life! Then again, it might be, if it weren't for that stupid, stupid, STUPID owl from Mum and Dad.
The owl, a gray tawny she'd bought her parents for Christmas in sixth year, so they could mail her without waiting to get something from her so they could use the school owl, had flown in with the rest during breakfast just two weeks ago. She remembered it so clearly; it seemed that entire morning had been burned into her skull.
"Honestly, two weeks before graduation, and my mother is still making revisions on my dress. You can't see it under my robes anyway!" she complained, reaching over Harry's elbow for some more toast. Ron looked up, his mouth full of bacon.
"Then wha ah oo wearing ifo?" he said, accidentally spitting a small chunk of food on the owl's talon.
"Ugh, Ron, please! Chew and then talk!"
"Sorry, sorry." he said, swallowing. "Anyway, then what are you wearing it for?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't know my Mum, Ron. Anyway, let's see what she's – oh. Oh." she was quickly skimming the letter, her heart seeming to pound in her throat as she read it again and again.
Hermione took a deep breath, carefully setting the paper (her parents didn't use parchment) down on her plate, pushing her chair in, and walking briskly from the Great Hall and straight up to the common room. Looking around at the familiar room she'd grown to know as her own home for the last seven years – seven years! –, her eyes welled up with tears. She'd barely wiped them away when her two best friends came in, Harry clutching the letter, they'd obviously both read it, not that she minded at all, she couldn't have told them herself, and looking concerned. Ron was staring at her incredulously, as if not believing it.
"I – I... I can't believe it. You're...you're leaving?" Harry said, sitting down in a chair next to her, Ron on the sofa across from her.
"Right after...right after graduation, it says." Hermione said, staring at the ground so her friends couldn't see the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks at any moment.
Ron finally spoke. "But...but...it says...I mean, a 'disclosed Muggle-only village', we won't even know where to owl you, and it says a three year period at least...we'll...oh, God, we'll never see you again!" at this Hermione wailed and burst into sobs, her shoulders heaving.
She sank down onto the couch and buried her head in Ron's shoulder, as Harry sat down on the other side and patted her back. They were the best friends in the entire world, the best. After a minute or two, she looked up. Ron looked a bit surprised, but patted her shoulder awkwardly.
The trio stared into the fireplace, the one that was so very familiar they barely noticed it anymore. The fireplace where hand-knit elf stockings hung in their third year, where Sirius's head had shown up so many times in their fifth year, where Fred and George had tried to light their newest firecrackers – almost burning the school down in the process – in sixth year, where they had found Professor Snape's unconscious body, exhausted from a terribly strong Imperious Curse, thrown (the flames had been dowsed then, thankfully) after Harry had defeated Lord Voldemort once and for all, just a month ago. They sat for about ten minutes, until the loud clatter of many approaching footsteps told them breakfast was over.
Hermione grabbed a tissue from the table beside her four-poster bed, blowing her nose loudly. Today was graduation. It had been wonderful, and terrible at the same time, because she knew, now that her bags were packed, she'd have to go down to the common room. And then she'd be out the portrait hole, saying goodbye to the Fat Lady, leaving her things to be brought down, and heading down for a last feast in the Great Hall.
Or she could stay up here, just a minute or two more.
"Hermione Granger, you get that sorry butt out of this room right now!" Parvarti Patil screeched as she came inside. "This is our last meal and I'm not about to let you be late! Up you go, now. There. Now come on, Lav! Let's go, everyone. Say...say goodbye." Even Parvarti couldn't be quite stupid enough, materialistic and self-centered as she was, Hermione realized, not to feel a little pang of sorrow as she closed the door behind them, barely giving Hermione a last glance around the room before shoving her out.
As they descended the stairs, Hermione felt very, very nervous. She didn't know why, she supposed it was just the thought of leaving, but it made her feel a bit queasy and on the edge of tears at the same time. Not a pleasant feeling at all.
Finally the common room came into view, where Harry and Ron were packing up a game of chess (wizard's chess, of course), and Neville Longbottom was looking forlornly out a window onto the grounds. Everyone else had already gone down to dinner.
All six Gryffindors left the common room together, saying tearful – well, only tearful on the parts of Hermione, Lavendar, Parvarti, and Neville - goodbyes to the Fat Lady, and walking down the stone hallway without looking back.
The feast was wonderful, the best food any of them had ever had, and lasted a good two hours. But, as all good things have a tendency to do, it came to an end much too soon.
Standing by the great doors at the entrance to the castle, the students gathered into their houses for last goodbyes before boarding the thestral-drawn carriages waiting outside. Hermione was positive she hugged every Gryffindor, except Harry and Ron, of course, she was refusing to say goodbye to them until the last possible moment at King's Cross, at least six times, every Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff at least twice, and even made annoyed but tearful eye contact with three Slytherin girls from her advanced Arithmancy and Ancient Arts classes.
The trio boarded the same carriage, Hermione sitting in between the two boys. She could feel both glancing at her every few moments, but all she could do was hiccup and stare fixedly at the floor of the carriage. Finally they arrived at Platform 9 ¾ and boarded the brilliantly red steam engine that was the beloved Hogwarts Express.
Once finding an empty car and settling down, Ron and Harry sitting beside each other with Hermione and her cat, Crookshanks, facing them, someone spoke for the first time since dinner.
"You know, Hermione," Harry said, "You'll have to talk to us sometime, otherwise it will be worse when you leave."
She knew he was right, of course.
"Yes, I know. But I don't want to dissolve to tears in front of you two again, honestly."
"Hermione," Ron spoke up, "Just because you cry once in front of us doesn't mean we're going to change to opinion of the Hermione we've known for the last seven years to be some wimpy girly girl all of a sudden."
She smiled a bit, but still felt like dirt. She couldn't believe – couldn't believe – that her parents would do this to her. She'd actually sent them a Howler, although it had taken her awhile to figure out how to do so. Apparently they thought it would be best for her to spend some time "away from magic" for "safety reasons" and she "knew they had supported it for so long, but it was just for a little while". Yea, right. Three years. How could they do this? Her parents had always been so extremely supportive of magic, so interested, so proud when she got her first letter from Hogwarts. Now, just like that, it's dangerous and she must be isolated from the rest of the wizarding community?
Hermione didn't know what was going on, but she was positive it wasn't an urgent dentist shortage in France. Then again, Dumbledore had tried to explain it to her that afternoon. She'd been called down, during Potions, luck have it, to his office.
"Miss Granger!" He'd smiled, his blue eyes that she would miss so much twinkling, "So good to see you. Please, sit down. I presume you have some...questions...about your parents' sudden decision. Yes, I know you're surprised, but I know all about it. They don't know that, of course, but I feel you deserve a truthful explanation. Now, where to begin? There are some...concerned parents, shall we say? Muggle parents, that is. The parents of Muggle-born wizards and witches, more specifically.
"A discussion went on between these parents at the beginning of the year, at Platform 9 ¾, I was informed. This discussion was about the welfare and safety of their children and whether, after all this time, they wanted their children to lead wizard lives. Have you heard of the Amish, Hermione?"
"Yes, Headmaster." she'd replied, swallowing. It was a true mark of how very intensely she'd been listening that she had not gone on to inform him of the full history and culture of Amish people.
"Ah, good. Do you know, Hermione, about what they do when their children come of age? They give them a choice, you see. They can go out into the unprotected world and do whatever they please. And, after this, if they choose to do so, they may stay there. Or come back into the Amish community. But, Hermione, if one chooses to stay out of the Amish country, he or she is shunned, and cannot return."
Hermione just nodded, wondering where this was going.
"This is a bit like that. A few parents, only about eight families or so, I'd say, have decided to live in a Muggle community for a few years. Of course, there is no risk of being shunned forever from your parents, they love you very dearly. It's just to sort of remind their children of Muggle life, how it used to be, and convince them to come back. For...their own safety, of course."
Hermione saw a slight grimace on the Headmaster's face, and could tell he did not approve at all of this method. Many parents had been paranoid since the defeat of Lord Voldemort, with his followers everywhere trying to get in last killings before they were caught, and of course going after Muggle-born witches and wizards. But this was going too far.
"But, Professor," she said, "I'd be going home anyway. I'm Muggle-born, remember? I would be going back to a Muggle community, there's no reason to take me to France!"
The Headmaster just smiled at her.
"Yes, Miss Granger, just as I thought when I overheard this little plot. But, apparently, this is a new community far away, so that they can try to isolate you from the wizarding world you know so well. You see, in London, it would be all too easy for a young Muggle-born to simply "wander" into Diagon Alley, as I'm sure most of you would after a few weeks of this isolation. Therefore, by taking you to an unknown country, where you can be watched to make sure you do not attempt magic, you also can't wander off to familiar places."
Hermione snorted, realizing too late how disrespectful it must have sounded.
"Sorry, Professor. But I mean, honestly. "Young witches and wizards"? I'm seventeen, for Merlin's sake! What do they think I am, some young mischievous little girl?"
"Now, Miss Granger." he replied, eyes twinkling. "I think they know better than that. You are not, as you say, a mischievous little girl. You are a mischievous young-adult witch, and a remarkably clever one at that, who is capable of much more mischief than a little girl. Who knows who you could run into if you tried to sneak out? It is all too possible you'd find a way form your parents watch, and the only way to prevent that would be to give you nowhere to go. Now, Miss Granger, are you beginning to see my point?"
Hermione had stared down at her shoes, her eyes threatening to well up again.
"Yes, Headmaster. I see exactly what you are saying, but I don't agree with it in the very least!"
"Nor do I, Hermione, nor do I."
And with that she'd left to begin her packing.
Back on the train, Hermione related this story to Harry and Ron. By the time the food cart had come around and Harry had ordered as many cauldron cakes and Bertie's Every Flavored Beans as humanly possible, the two were staring at Hermione in utter disbelief. Ron was the first to come to his senses.
"But...but..." he sputtered, apparently at a loss for words. "They can't - they can't – ridiculous! – you could come to the Burrow, or, or..." he trailed off, looking deeply disturbed. Almost as though he might cry. Harry looked a bit the same way, and Hermione burst into tears once more.
"Oh, this in unbelievable! I'm a mess!" she said, sobbing into Crookshanks's fur as her best friends sat down on either side of her.
"Hermione, I just wanted to say good b- Hermione? Are – are you all right?" came a voice from the door.
"She'll be fine, Neville. Just...just give us a minute, will you?" Harry said, though not harshly.
"Sure. Bye, Hermione. Harry, Ron. See you around." At the last words Hermione was set into another fit of tears.
"Bye, Neville." she called through her hiccups as the klutzy boy swung the door shut behind him. Hardly a boy anymore, Hermione thought. It seemed quite odd. Neville was a seventeen-year-old, after all, but she still thought of him as the little boy who came up to her on this very train the first day, asking if she'd seen a toad named Trevor. Actually, he'd been much more friendly than the two young men on either side of her, who had scoffed and made faces when she and Neville had made their way to the car they were occupying, asking about Trevor.
But this was not a time to be reliving stupid memories. This was the time to say goodbye once and for all.
No! Hermione scolded herself, Not once and for all! This isn't permenant! Three years, that's nothing! As soon as we leave France, I will owl them.
She'd do it right when she got to France, but, with a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized that with all the watch from the "concerned parents", she wouldn't be sending an owl for a long time. Three or more years, to be more specific. After all, what if someone traced the owl and followed it back to where they were living?
"What garbage. Following an owl." she muttered, still looking at the ground.
They'd be at King's Cross in ten minutes or so, said the voice on the little loudspeaker on the wall. Hermione dissolved into yet another fresh batch of tears.
"Oh, Hermione, come on now, you're making me sad, and Harry, too." Ron said, squeezing her shoulder. He was not normally the affectionate type, but Hermione didn't even bother thinking about that. She stood up abruptly, almost losing her balance as the train hit a small bump.
"Harry...Ron..." she said, hiccupping once more. She didn't know where to start.
"Remember," Ron said suddenly, "The day we became friends? The three of us? Remember the troll, and I had insulted you, and you were in the girls toilet, and Harry insisted we go to save you?"
Hermione nodded, wiping away a tear as it slid down her cheek.
"I remember." she whispered, choking back more sobs.
"And remember," Ron went on, pointing to Crookshanks, "How that dumb old cat almost caught a murderer? And how I was being too damn stupid to see it? And how we weren't talking for days? Remember that?"
Harry groaned from his seat. "I do!" he muttered. Hermione managed a small smile.
"I remember." she said again, managing to look up at Ron without crying. But just barely.
"And remember in sixth year," he started again, "When we went to that stupid Valentine's Day dance, and none of us had dates, and I asked you to dance, and you said no because I had insulted Viktor earlier that day? Viktor Krum? And I said you were dumb anyway, and you said I was an idiot, and I said you were bossy, and you said I was a jackass? I'd never heard you curse before then, I must've gotten you pretty mad that day. And then I said you were probably right, and then you and me and Harry all danced together and looked like total fools in front of the whole school?"
At this Hermione actually laughed. Her laughter echoed around the car, but suddenly everything was quiet as the train screeched to a final sharp halt. All three fell silent, Hermione's face still frozen in half a smile.
Harry stood up, saying, "I'll be right out in the hallway, and I'll come back inside in a minute. Just a minute. So it's your last chance." he said, then left. The two stared after him. Ron looked at Hermione, his face mirroring the confusion on hers.
"Huh?"
"Last chance for what?"
"I dunno, to steal his chocolate frog cards when he's not looking? Eh, I do that anyway." Ron said, grinnging. He dumped all the extra sweets into his bag, handing Hermione a box of Fizzing Whizbees.
"Bet they won't have these in your little 'Anti-Magic Community', make sure you hide them."
Hermione looked up at the ceiling, fighting tears for the five billionth time that day. She was fighting a losing battle and began to cry once again.
"Oh – Hermione! I was kidding, I mean I know you don't want to go, I was just – I – where's Harry when you need him?"
"Ron! I'm not crying because you hurt my feelings, you dimwit!"
"Not the time for namecalling, Herm."
"I'm crying because I'm going to miss - " she hiccupped, "You – hic – so – much!"
She ran over and threw her arms around him, crying more than it felt like she had ever cried, into his shoulder.
"Hermione. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. I'm going to miss you, too. So is Harry. We all will. We'll find a way to contact you. If it's the last thing I do, I'll get an owl into that place. Don't worry about it." He hugged her very tightly, until finally he let go and opened the door, where Harry almost crashed to the floor. He'd apparently been leaning against it. He got up, looking guilty, and smoothed out his jeans.
"Harry!" Hermione cried, not bothering to wonder what he'd been doing out there, and throwing her arms around him as well. Then they formed a strange kind of group hug.
"Harry Potter. Ron Weasley. I love you two so much. So very, very much. And I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know what I'm going to do without you."
"I love you too, Hermione." they said, and the three slowly made their ways out of the train, where after a few more tears from Hermione, they parted ways.
6 MONTHS, 17 DAYS, 2 HOURS LATER:
A/N: OMG! TA-DA! Wow. Wow. I am SO proud of myself, you wouldn't believe it. I thought that chapter came out very well, actually. And listen to this: this chapter measures 9 PAGES on Microsoft Word! That is a total record for me! WOOHOO! So anyway, you have no idea how much fun that was to write.
Please, please, please, please, please review this chapter! I really need some feedback, constructive critism is very welcome.
THANKS!