Chapter sixteen: The Way We Were

Still squeezing Harry's hand, Hermione turned to make her way over to the cauldron but was intercepted by Draco and Ron. "Weasel and I have taken a vote," said Draco, "we've decided we don't care how screwed up this world is– we don't want to change it back."

Hermione felt Harry's hand tighten around hers. "I second that motion," he said, his voice sounding unnaturally thick.

"But..." Hermione furrowed her brow. "My parents don't love me anymore."

"My parents never loved me," said Draco, shrugging, "I managed to get through it all right. Besides, you've got four people here who love you, and that's more than a lot of people can say."

Hermione chewed on her lower lip. "Dumbledore isn't headmaster at Hogwarts," she reminded them.

"I'm sure we can convince him to go back," said Harry, "and even if we can't, maybe Dumbledore deserves some time off. He's certainly paid his dues."

She looked finally to Ron. "And your parents– they're getting a divorce."

Ron's eyes were pained, but he shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You're more important than any of that."

Hermione was silent for a moment, and then she turned her gaze to Ginny, gauging her reaction. Ginny kept her eyes trained on the cauldron. Finally, she looked up and smiled. "Looks like you're staying, then," she said. "I agree with everyone else–none of it matters, Hermione. You're more important than that."

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed this, and then Ginny turned and began busying herself. "We'll have to clean up the ingredients. Who knew anti-anti death spells could get so messy...?"

"Nothing a simple cleaning charm can't fix."

The room had suddenly become silent, deathly still. All eyes turned toward the doorway, where familiar red-rimmed eyes peered from underneath a dark hood. Hermione felt her stomach lurch with fear.

Reacting instinctively, Harry stepped in front of her. "Voldemort," he said, clearly trying to control the fear in his voice. "But how...?"

Voldemort stepped into the room, an unpleasant grin stretching out over his rotting and decrepit features. "Funny thing about raising the dead," he breathed, eyes boring into Harry, "you bring back something good and you bring back something unpleasant with it. Keeps balance in the universe. You were able to kill me because she--" He leveled a long, bony finger at Hermione, "–gave the ultimate sacrifice of love. But now that she's back, that sacrifice is null in void. Who knew that one little girl could have so much power?"

In a flash, he had crossed the room and taken Hermione by the front of her robes. "Believe me, I won't make that mistake again."

Harry, Draco, and Ron all tried to lunge for her, but they weren't quick enough. Voldemort put his wand to Hermione's throat, thrusting it into her skin. "Try anything and the little girl gets it," he said, backing out of the room.

And then they were gone.

Harry stared for a moment, too numb to move or think. Finally, he regained his faculties and whirled around to face the others. "We have to get her back," he said.

Draco stared at him. "How? Do you really think he's gonna put her someplace we can find her? He could have already sent her to another dimension, someplace we could never reach."

Harry slammed his fist down on the table. "Then I'll die trying!"

Ron ran a hand through his red hair. "I don't understand," he said, "if Voldemort kills Hermione, then won't things just be turned back to normal?"

"He won't try to kill her," murmured Ginny, "he'll just hide her someplace until she dies so the spell never takes effect. And he'll wreak havoc on the rest of the world in the meantime." Her eyes widened. "Unless...?"

The three boys turned on her. "What?" demanded Draco. "What is it?"

Ginny seemed to be puzzling over something in her mind. "If someone else offered themself as a sacrifice, they could take her place," she explained. "They could set things back to the way they were, only...they would have been the one who died that day, not Hermione."

There was a long moment of silence as everyone pondered this in their minds. Draco stepped forward. "Let me do it," he said.

Harry frowned at him. "Why should it be you?"

"Because I swore to Hermione a long time ago that I'd protect her," Draco informed him.

Harry folded his arms. "I swore that I'd protect her, too."

Frustrated, Draco shoved him in the chest. "You daft git, why are you fighting me on this? She loves you–she doesn't love me! So let me do this for her. I get to be the one that dies to save her and you get to be the one that holds her in your arms."

Harry was taken aback by this, but was far too proud to let Draco have the last word. "But who's to say that your sacrifice would even work? We can't just rush into this--"

"Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Stunned, both boys fell to the ground, their eyes rolling up to see Ron standing over them. He frowned at them, his eyes set with determination. "Sorry to steal all the thunder, boys," he said, "but I believe this is my show."

"Ron," Harry protested through barely opened lips, "you can't do this! You've got your family to think about, and we can't go on with out you--"

"Can't you?" There was a ghost of a smile on Ron's lips. "I think these past few months have proven that wrong. You barely even noticed I was there, Harry. You didn't need me anymore. Maybe I'm the one who was supposed to die that day all along. I'm the expendable one."

Ron turned to his sister, giving her a weak smile. "Ginny, I need you to tell Mum and Dad that I love them. And tell all the brothers, too, only don't make it too sappy, all right? I don't want to be remembered as a wanker."

Ginny smiled at him through tear-filled eyes. "Okay."

Ron hesitated. "And tell Lavender...tell her I wish I could've seen where it went. Oh, and make up something really heroic about how this was my destiny or something."

"All right."

He leaned in to hug her, then pulled back a moment later, staring into her eyes. "Gosh, you're pretty, Gin. I'm sorry I can't stick around for the rest. I love you."

"I love you, too."

And before Ron could react, Ginny had punched him in the jaw. Disoriented, he fell back, giving Ginny just enough time to pull out her wand. "Sorry about this," she said, and added, "Stupefy!"

As Ron fell to the ground with the others, Ginny moved so she was standing over them, hugging herself. "Ron, I want you to tell Mum and Dad and the boys all those things you said, okay? And don't blame yourself because you couldn't have realized I was going to do this. I didn't even realize it until a few minutes ago."

"Ginny," Ron begged through his frozen mouth, "don't do this! Let me take care of this!"

Ginny struggled to control her tears. "Can't do that Ron. You're not the expendable one– I am. Harry's always going to need a best friend, and Hermione's going to need someone to keep her in check. And the world needs you, 'cuz you're one of the last good ones."

She turned her gaze to Harry, and it was clear she was doing all she could do not to sob. "But from the moment I met him, I knew I was supposed to love Harry Potter for the rest of my life. I didn't understand it then– I thought that meant we were going to be together forever. But now I know. I'm the one who's supposed to let him live."

And with the others watching on, Ginny moved over to the cauldron, a determined gleam in her eye, and muttered the final incantation.

It was the night of graduation, and Dumbledore had certainly spared no expense at the lavish party being thrown at Hogwarts. Not only had most of the class graduated with remarkably high scores, but they had managed to defeat Voldemort once and for all.

As Harry sat out on the front steps, his mind returned to the final battle. Voldemort had used a spell to take him by the throat and had almost killed him. But then at the very last second, Ginny intervened, using some sort of magic that had been foreign to Harry's ears. When Voldemort had killed her, something snapped inside of Harry. He felt her power rushing into him, felt those foreign incantations rolling off his tongue as though it was meant to be, as though something had preordained that good would triumph that night, that Voldemort would be destroyed.

Still, he could not help but mourn the loss of Ginny. She had been his first love, the sweet red-haired, blue-eyed girl that was eternally loyal to him. He would always remember her, not only for saving the world, but for opening his heart up to the possibility of being loved again.

"This seat taken?"

Harry looked up to see his best friend Hermione Granger standing over him. She looked at home in her graduation robes; her parents had taken at least three dozen pictures that evening, and there was a smile permanently etched into her features. After the stress and sadness of the past few weeks, it was good to see her looking so happy.

"Be my guest," he said, scooting over to make room.

Hermione sat down next to him, carefully manuevering her broken arm so it wouldn't bump into anything. Madam Pomfrey had offered to fix it straight off, but in her stubborn way, Hermione had repeatedly refused; she said she didn't want to have the memories of that night erased too quickly from her mind. Harry found that he agreed with her.

"You know, there's a whole party inside," Hermione informed him. "Food, music...Snape is actually dancing. To the Macarena. I swear, I saw him do the hip shake and everything."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "I thought we'd gotten over all of the horrors of the world."

Hermione laughed along with him, nudging him with her leg. "It wasn't that bad, really. His rhythm is shockingly good."

They sat like that for a moment longer, enjoying the quiet of the moment. Hermione turned to him finally. "How are you doing?"

"Me?" Harry shrugged. "I'm okay."

Hermione frowned at him. "Harry James Potter, don't do that 'I'm okay' business that you'd do with a complete stranger. I know you too well. Now how are you doing?"

"I think I'm really okay, Hermione," he said, more slowly this time. "I mean, I still think about it. I'm glad that Voldemort's gone, once and for good. I'm sad that there ever had to be a person like Voldemort in this world. I miss Ginny."

He paused, swallowing down the lump that formed in his throat. "But I think...I think this was the way it was supposed to be, you know? I think that, wherever Ginny is, she's happy."

Hermione reached out, squeezing his hand. "I think so, too." She paused for a moment. "Listen, Ron's inside waiting for us. He made me promise to get you in time for the Hippogriff dance."

"Hippogriff dance?" Harry repeated. "What on earth is that?"

"I think it's the wizard version of the chicken dance," Hermione returned. She rose to her feet, still holding his hand. "Come on, I think it'll be fun, don't you?"

Harry looked up, saw the smile on her face, felt the coolness of the night and how right it felt to hold her hand in his. With a start, he saw a sudden flash of things to come: stolen glances, shy walks late at night, tentative first kisses, arguments, pledges of love and devotion. And without any rhyme or reason, he felt somehow that it would all be okay in the end, as long as he had her with him.

"Yeah," he said finally, rising to his feet after her, "sounds like fun."

The End

Author's Note: Wow, that took forever to finish. Writer's block-- gotta hate it. Anyway, thanks for all the wonderful reviews over these past several months. You don't know how much that motivated me to actually finish this. Once again, thanks for all, and see you all at Barnes and Noble when the sixth book comes out!