The Way It Should Be
It rained for six days.
Ron Weasley watched the rain pelt the windows and listened to it pound as though rocks were falling from the sky instead of rain. Usually, a shower like this calmed Ron. He was quite keen to listening to rain storms at the Burrow. It gave him something else to listen to besides the old ghoul banging on the pipes in the attic anyway.
But today was different.
It was different for all six of the blasted days it poured.
This kind of rain was different than what he was used to listening to. It was violent, almost angry, each pelt of rain sounding like a small explosion. It confused Ron and cast a cloud of sorrow over him darker than any of the thunder heads that hung in the sky.
It wasn't just the rain, Ron had to admit. It was him. He'd changed in the past week; all of them had. Ever since the war...
Ron shook his head furiously and went back to his paper. He'd been amusing himself for the past couple of days with the Muggle newspaper. He rather enjoyed the male - seeking - female ads and faintly wondered if half of what the seekers said about themselves were true. He also liked the car section, frankly amazed at how many different types of cars there were - more in fact, than any brand of broomsticks. But what Ron looked forward to reading was the comics. Though still deeply furrowed that the pictures remained stationary, it was, by far, his favorite part of the Muggle paper. Many of the comics made jokes about Muggle issues and objects that he didn't understand (what in the world was an Ipod?). But some actually made sense. One, he remembered three days ago, was a crack at the lengths girls would go for a boy. It ended in a hysterically funny drawing of a Muggle boy looking thoroughly harassed as a group of girls fought in a cloud of just over him. Ron had laughed rather hard at that.
A short time afterward grimly remained himself that it had bee the first time ages since he actually, wholeheartedly smiled.
Ron thumbed through the paper trying to ignore the rain and find the comics - he'd grown rather fond of a comic called "Mutts" which consisted of a simply drawn cat and dog - but just as he found the page, the doorbell rang.
Ron stood up halfway and reached for his cane. That was propped on the side of the table. He leaned heavily on it - the Healers said it would take time for his leg to heal and he might not fully recover - and limped quickly to the door. He peered out of the peephole and smiled.
"Hey, Hermione," he said, opening the door. Hermione Granger, his best friend in the world, threw her arms around him the moment she crossed the threshold. Ron hugged her back with one arm, his other still holding his support on the walking stick.
"How are you?" Hermione asked as she pulled away and sat on the couch. Ron hobbled over and sat next to her, groaning slightly as the weight was relieved off his injured leg.
"Eh, I've been better," he replied, shrugging but meaning every word.
"Your leg still hurt?"
Ron smiled. "Like a bitch."
"Don't swear, Ron," said Hermione, though the corners of her mouth upturned as she said it; she was so used to Ron using foul language that it had became a habit for her to retort this way. It reminded her of when they were in school and how she always corrected him and told him off.
"It seems like such a long time ago, doesn't it?" said Hermione abruptly. "School, I mean."
Ron didn't answer. Yes, it had seemed like ages ago that they were students at Hogwarts. It seemed like so long ago that they studied, did homework, played Quidditch, took exams... indeed, it seemed like years since all they mostly cared about was trying to pass N.E.W.T.s. But really, it had only been about a week since they graduated from wizarding school. Funny, how long ago school looked to be, but how recent the end of the war was. Ron actually had to think to remember the last time he'd played exploding snap, though he had no trouble remembering the day the war ended. The two worlds - school and the war - seemed to be separated into two dimensions: one with war, and one without war. They never made a connection with Ron; if he was thinking about his Quidditch Cup victory in 6th year, there was no trace of a thought about war. He still had trouble believing that the day he lost the nerve cells in his leg was the same day he rejoiced that N.E.W.T.s were officially over.
"Yeah," Ron said. "It does... Do you want some tea?"
"Yeah, that would be great," said Hermione, grinning.
Ron pulled out his wand and flicked it; a steaming pot of hot water and two mugs came zooming out of the tiny kitchen. The pot poured hot tea into the mugs and as they dropped lightly onto the coffee table in front of them, the pot flew back into the kitchen.
"Thanks," said Hermione, gratefully, picking up her tea taking a sip.
Ron, who had already drained half of the mug, waved his hand to mime 'don't mention it'. He gulped and looked at his friend.
"Did you get a flat yet?"
"No," Hermione sighed. "Not yet. I'm still living with my aunt."
Ron nodded and didn't press the issue. He knew, of course, that Hermione wanted a flat in London. But she couldn't find a decent one that she could afford. The only reason why Ron managed to scrape a flat in London was because of the small fortune Harry had left him...
Ron winced, as though the thought of Harry had caused him physical pain, and he hastily took a drink of his tea.
Silence fell upon them. Ron and Hermione sat side by side watching the flames dance merrily in the fireplace and listening to the rain flog the city. Ron drank the rest of his tea in one and set it back down on the table. Hermione, who had barely drank any of her tea, was clutching it tightly, as though trying to absorb as much heat as she could from the mug. She was staring at the table, though Ron knew she wasn't really seeing it; he knew that far-off glass look in her eye too well.
"Knut for your thoughts?" he asked, smiling in spite of himself.
"What?" Hermione asked, looking at Ron uncomprehending. Then her eyes focused. "Oh! Oh... just - just thinking..."
"About your new upheaval on Spew?" said Ron, smirking. Hermione glared at him, but there was no real anger behind her eyes.
"No, just thinking about -" Hermione faltered, chancing a quick and scared glance at Ron. She cleared her throat and took another sip of tea. "How - how's your leg? Seriously this time."
"It hurts a lot and I still can't feel my foot," Ron said, banging his left foot on the floor as hard as he could.
"I still don't know what happened to you," said Hermione, without realizing what she was saying. Ron turned his head to stare at her and Hermione ducked her head in embarrassment.
"I- I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that! Honestly, I didn't -"
"It's ok, Hermione," said Ron, trying to grin, but giving her only the ghost of one of his trademark smiles. He sighed . "We're going to have to talk about it sooner or later. No use putting it off..."
Ron paused, looking at his injured leg as though trying to put his horrific experience into a sentence.
"It's like this... I was fighting Dolohov - that son of a bitch who almost killed you - and you were dueling with that Bellatrix woman. Dolohov kept trying to use that curse he used on you a few years ago, but I kept deflecting it. I stunned him twice and he was really getting aggravated... You were right next to me, I remember you screaming... Bellatrix got you with Cruscio. I turned around for a second - a bloody second, Hermione! - to help you...God, you were in so much pain, I've never seen you scream so much before... But one second was all it took; Dolohov used Suctemsempra but it missed and hit my leg instead."
Hermione made a small "oh" with her lips and Ron half-laughed.
"Yeah, it hurt like hell and there was blood all over the place. I couldn't even get up, it hurt that bad. I could hear Dolohov laughing... Bellatrix said she was going to torture you until you died of pain... It would teach Harry a -"
Ron suddenly halted. Dammit, he'd thought of Harry again. Hermione stiffened next to him, the mug she had raised to her lips paused for a moment. She blinked furiously, which Ron knew as a sign that she was about to cry. There was an annoying burning in his own eyes too, as well as a small lump in his throat that made it difficult for him to swallow.
"Well, anyway..." Ron cleared his throat and his voice strengthened, though the lump still remained. "I knew Dolohov was about to finish me, but I couldn't let you die. So I stunned Bellatrix from behind and I heard Dolohov fire of the curse. You stopped screaming, and I could feel the spell coming closer. But I didn't care; you were safe, and that's all that mattered. So waited for the spell to come - but it didn't. You were out cold by then, so you probably don't remember, but just as the spell was about to hit me, Ginny -"
Ron stopped again. The lump grew larger and he found it rather difficult to fight the burning, clawing feeling in his stomach. He closed his eyes and let his head fall into his hands, struggling to keep control of himself. He pressed his palms into his hands, trying to force the tears back. Little white lights erupted in front of him, but it seemed to help keep his head. He swallowed, trying to rid of the lump (that was now the size of a lemon) in his throat. He scrubbed his eyes and coughed, hoping it would help. But Ginny's face popped in his mind and he felt the surge of tears try and break their way out. Though he tried as hard as possible to keep everything in, he couldn't help one small sob from escaping his lips. He hastily turned it into a cough, but his stomach dropped; he couldn't cry, not now, when he had worked so hard to keep it in...
Then, Ron felt a small hand on his back. It began to move in slow, comforting circles around his shoulders and upper back. It was a simple gesture, but warmth seemed to seep from the fingers and spread slowly spread through his entire body. Not only did it comfort Ron, but he couldn't deny that it just felt right for Hermione to be touching him this way, soothing him when he most needed it. Ron felt the tears back off and he was able to lift his head up. Hermione was looking at him, her eyes filled with sympathy, care and understanding along with tears of her own as well. In that instant, Ron knew that he was not alone; he wasn't the only one who was suffering at the loss of his best friend and little sister. Ron knew that Hermione would be there for him, just like she always had been, and he would be for her. They both were taking a beating from the damn war; the whole world was in mourning, even the Muggles seemed sad (although they had no idea why). However, tears and sorrow never lasted long and Ron knew at the end of the day that he and Hermione would always have each other to lean on. Maybe that was what he liked the most about her: the fact that she could be in the worst state of her life and bloodied up horribly, but if a person - any person - was in need or hurting, she would give her energy to help out as much as she could. She was selfless and caring, and Ron adored her for it.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione said in a soft voice.
Ron looked at her for a moment and opened his mouth. Immediately he closed it, throat too tight to speak. The hot tennis-ball shaped lump was screaming for release and his eyes brimmed with tears. He saw before him, as though he was watching a series of magical pictures, Ginny jumping in front of him- the killing spell cutting through her instead of her favorite brother... himself, staring in disbelief at Ginny's limp body... he heard a roar as he charged at Dolohov, knocking him flat and using the same curse he'd used on his leg... he watched Dolohov screaming like a pig as blood gushed out of his chest... he saw himself crumple to the floor next to Ginny, sobbing as he picked her up, begging her to be alive... he saw Harry battling with You-Know-Who... he watched as the Dark Lord was thrown to the ground... he saw Harry using those two final, fatal words that would end the war... You-Know-Who screeching horribly into the night - all the Death Eaters crying along with him, as well as Harry... Ron saw himself running up to Harry, pleading with him to fight, to breathe, to stay alive... he watched as Harry told him that this was the way it was meant to be... Ron watched as he asked him to tell Ginny he loved her and someone else he loved dearly... he saw Harry saying on his dying breaths that no one could ever hurt him again and that he and Hermione were the best friends he ever had...
Ron couldn't bear it any longer. He ducked his head so Hermione wouldn't see, trying helplessly to fight the misery that was slowly winning him over.
"I -I c-c-can't..." he croaked, his voice cracking.
Hermione then pulled him into a hug, her arms tight around him. She stroked his hair and whispered into his ear : "It's ok. I m-miss them too."
That was all it took.
Ron finally gave in and those blasted tears came spilling out. He buried his face in the crook of Hermione's neck and let himself cry for the first time since he was a young boy. Hermione wasn't far behind. She gripped Ron's sweater and held him close to her as his shoulders heaved with sobs. Ron was blubbering, not knowing what words were coming out of his mouth.
"I P-promised h-her! After t-t-the Ch-Chamber! I-I-I p-promised her I'd n-never let anything hap-happen t-to her! I p-p-p-promised h-her...!"
"Shhh," Hermione said, crying along with him. "I-I know..."
It went on for what seemed like hours. Ron clutched Hermione's black jumper as she sobbed her heart out on Ron's shoulder. All the grief he had bottled up over the past six days finally came tumbling out. Never in his life had Ron been so dependent on someone for comfort. Never had he thrown his arms around a girl and flat-out cried with such pain and anguish. Never had he felt so vulnerable, so hurt, so grief-stricken. He screwed up his eyes as he tried to block the horrible images of the war out of his mind.
Then, Ron realized that the pictures would never go away. They would be burnt into his memories for the rest of his life.
The tears did cease, eventually - Ron wasn't quite sure when he stopped. He breathed deeply to get a hold of his head and gave a large sniff as he pulled away from Hermione. He didn't want to look at her just yet, not until he was sure he'd cried himself out. He wiped a few stray tears from his cheek and Hermione conjured up a tissue from midair that she handed to him. He blew his nose - and to his dismay, it sounded like the kind of fog-horn sniffs that Hagrid was famous for.
Then, miraculously and out of no where, Hermione giggled.
Ron looked at her and saw a small smile playing on her lips. He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Better?" she asked.
Ron laughed. He couldn't help it.
"Sort of," he said.
The rain was still lashing unforgivably at the windows and Ron and Hermione fell into silence again. Ron clenched the tissue in his fist and looked at Hermione, who was staring into the fire. She looked tired, as though she hadn't slept for days, and there where heavy bags under her bloodshot eyes. Her hair was bushier that he had ever seen it before. The faint laugh lines around her mouth were etched in pain. She had been through so much; they all had. She was hurting as much as he was, and Ron knew the after-effects of the war would be brutal. Hell, the bloody war ended six days ago and already the pain was enormous.
Hermione heaved a great sigh and ran her hands through her frizzy hair. She looked at her knees for a moment and then spoke.
"We shouldn't be upset, Ron."
Ron blinked.
Where the hell did that come from?
"Huh?" Was all he managed to say.
Hermione didn't lift her eyes from her knees and kept her hands entangled in her hair. She spoke, however, with a trace of her old brassy Gryffindor courage.
"I said: We shouldn't be upset. About Harry and Ginny, I mean."
Ron continued to gape at her, a small surge of fury tingling in his chest.
"Why not?" he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
"Because..." said Hermione. She paused, looking as tgough she was debating on what she should say. Finally, she brought her eyes up to Ron's. "Because, Ron. I know I'm not the most optimistic person on the face of the Earth, but I can't help thinking this way. I really do believe that they both went onto a better place.
Ron didn't say anything. Never, in his whole time of knowing Hermione, had he heard something so stupid come out of her mouth. The anger was building inside of him as Hermione took Ron's silence as a sign to continue.
"Ron, over the past few days I've been doing a lot of crying and a lot of thinking," She gave a tiny laugh that Ron didn't return. "Harry and Ginny were so very in love. They reminded me of Harry's parents sometimes... But - well, I wasn't awake when it happened, but I know Ginny died right before Harry did. I think that gave Harry the strength to do what he had to. It was love that ended the war, just like last time, and the two of them were able to die together -
"Oh, get a grip, Hermione!" Ron shouted suddenly, making Hermione jump nearly a foot in the air. "They left us! I know that Harry was destined to die, I understand that! But he wasn't supposed to take Ginny with him! Ginny was supposed to live through this war!"
"So you're saying it's Harry's fault Ginny died!"
"In a way, yes! Half his fault anyway-!"
"How can you say that?" Hermione cried"How can you put the blame on Harry?"
Look, I didn't mean it like -"
"How could you say that about your own best friend! It wasn't his fault that people died!"
"Hermione, just let me -"
"He spent the rest of his life after Dumbledore died trying to convince himself that he didn't cause any deaths or accidents, and rightfully so! I cannot believe that you, Ron Weasley - his best friend - would accuse him of that!"
"I'm not accusing him!" Ron bellowed, unaware that he and Hermione were standing and both their faces were screwed up in anger. God, Hermione, I'm - I'm putting the blame on me! It's my fault! It's all my fault! She should have lived! She shouldn't have jumped in front of me! I was the one who was supposed to get hit with the spell, not Ginny! I was the one who was supposed to die! I was supposed to go first! I've always been ready to go first! She was my baby sister! I was supposed to protect her! I was the one who should have been saving her, not the other way around! It's not supposed to be this way!"
With a deafening bang, Ron knocked the mugs off the table; they shattered as they flew into the wall. He let out a cry, clutching his hand and slumping over, suddenly aware of the excruciating pain shooting through his injured leg. He'd had so much adrenaline pumping through him that for a moment his leg was completely forgotten. Hermione, who had been watching his ramble with growing sorrow, hurried forward. She tried to put a hand on his arm to guide him back to the couch, but Ron wrenched his arm away so forcefully that Hermione recoiled back a step in fear. She'd never seen him this upset before, and she wondered for a fleeting moment if he might hit her. But he fell onto the couch, cradling his hand. Hermione sat down next to him, unsure of whether to touch him or not.
"I know I may seem like I'm being selfish, but spare me ok? I'm sorry I don't think like you dom because I'd much rather have her here!" Ron snarled through gritted teeth.
Hermione bit her lip and hesitantly moved closer to him. She tried again to place a hand on his arm, but he shifted slightly, turning his face away from her.
"Ron..." Hermione said, willing him to face her again. "Ron, please look at me."
Slowly, Ron turned his head towards her, keeping his eyes deliberately away from hers. Hermione took his large hands into her smaller ones and stared at the top of his red head.
"Ok, you don't have to look at me, but please - please just listen to me," she pleaded. Ron nodded, keeping his eyes on their entwined hands. Hermione took a deep breath and squeezed his hands lightly. "I know you're hurt, Ron. I know. I am too. I'm hurt and confused and about a million other things. This is all one big mess.
"But, Ron, sometimes you have to look on the bright side, even if there doesn't seem to be one. I know this may sound childish, but I like to think that Ginny is really in a better place. Ginny was a wonderful, caring person. But her tiny little body was exhausted from all the help she gave. So, she went onto a place where she could be a guardian angel. She can watch over everyone now."
Ron looked up. Hermione's eyes were swimming in tears again. Ron didn't think what she said was childish at all. It was true, every bit of it. What was more, it made sense. Hermione had hit the nail square on the head, like always. Without thinking, Ron silently leaned forward and pulled her into his arms.
No matter what, Ron thought. I'll always have Hermione.
He'll always have Hermione.
Ron pulled back, staring into Hermione's over bright brown eyes. They were puffy and red and her hair looked as though it could rival the Weird Sister's. There were tear stains running down the lengths of her cheeks and her nose was pink.
She was beautiful.
"Thanks, Hermione," said Ron.
Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.
The world stopped spinning.
Time stopped.
Hermione Granger was kissing Ronald Weasley.
Ron didn't know how long it lasted - minutes, hours, days - but he knew was that he was kissing her right back.
Hmm, Ron thought. I could get used to this.
Hermione's hands slid down to wrap around his neck and Ron's arms were around her waist. This was nothing like kissing Lavender; this wasn't just some quick snog. This - this was something more than just kissing, though Ron had yet to figure out what it was. Hermione was pouring every bit of her soul and heart that comprised of every thought - every feeling she had for him - into him. Ron wasn't far behind. Burning with a fire only a Weasley could posses, he smothered her with affection and care - and love.
Love.
I'm in Heaven, Ron thought.
But bloody hell! How could I EVER have forgotten she was a girl?
He was floating on air, he was flying on Harry's firebolt, he'd just won 100 Quidditch World Cups in a row. He could leap from mountain to mountain in a single bound. He could battle a dragon. He could do anything he bloody wanted to. He was invincible. He was free. And, good God, he was finally alive. He didn't know what was happening or what he was feeling, but whatever it was he didn't ever, ever want it to stop.
But it did.
The doorbell rang.
Damn, Ron thought.
He started to rise, groping for his cane, but Hermione pulled him back.
"I'll get it," she said and softly placed a quick kiss on his cheek. She crossed the room and opened the door.
"Hello my dear," said an older woman with a kind but rather batty face just outside the threshold.
"Hello," Hermione greeted back with a smile. "Can I help you?"
"Yes. Would there be a Mr. Ronald Weasley living here?"
"He's here," said Ron, grabbing his walking stick and limping toward the door.
"Oh, goodness, you must be him, you look so much like your father - kind man, Arthur is, I would've had him for -"
"Yeah, thanks for that," said Ron, cutting the woman off. "Now what do you want?"
"Ron," said Hermione warningly. He wanted to retort scathingly back, but bit his lip; couldn't the woman see that she was wasting his time?
The woman seemed unconscious that she had interrupted something rather important, however, for she stooped down and picked up a small bundle of blankets from a basket on the ground. She gave Ron and Hermione a wan smile.
"I know you two must be devastated from this war. We lost a lot of good souls and innocent Muggles who knew nothing of what was going on. Bless them." She paused for a moment, looking as if she was fighting back tears. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but Harry was a wonderful young man. He was always so polite when he came 'round my house, even when I made him I made him look at pictures of my cats. To this day I still don't know how he got to be so nice, seeing those horrid people he lived with. He was a good man, and I know you must miss him terribly. I just wish I got to know him better..."
Ron and Hermione nodded; Ron, staring at the floor and Hermione, looking at the bundle in the woman's arms. The old woman shuffled around a bit in her carpet slippers and patted her beak-like nose with the back of her hand.
"We'll all miss Harry, and your sister too, Ron. And this brings us to why I'm here."
Hermione's eyes had snapped to Ron when she heard the words "your sister". But Ron only stiffened at the mention of Ginny and was looking at the bundle the woman had just gestured to. Relieved, Hermione focused her attention on the blanket as well.
"You two must understand," said the woman, all signs of unhappiness gone. "That Harry and Ginny were very much in love. Oh, they reminded me so much of Lily and James. It was like old times again... Well, anyway, Harry and Ginny made a decision together. They knew that Harry was born to die in the Final Battle and Ginny knew she couldn't live without Harry. So, they planned on dying together, whatever it took. But before they did, well...
"Ginny wrote a will as well as Harry. I take it you've both read Harry's?" Ron and Hermione nodded. "Indeed, I thought so. But Ginny's was destroyed somehow. We did manage to find a letter, however, that might explain it better than I can. Let me see if I..." She rummaged in her trouser pocket and extracted a folded piece of parchment. She handed it to Ron. "Here you are. No, don't open it yet! Not until I leave. Here - " She also handed Ron another piece of parchment from her pocket. "I'm sure once you've reed it, you'll understand. I don't need to explain."
She placed the bundle in Hermione's arms and wrapped her grubby canary yellow rain jacket tightly around her.
"I really must be off, I'm getting too old for this... Mind you both stay out of the rain and take good care of - "
"Wait!" said Ron, gripping the papers in one hand and his cane in the other. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled.
"Oh, an old friend," she said. She looked at Ron and Hermione and clasped her hands together in front of her. "Bless you both."
Without another word, she picked up her empty basket and walked down the hallway.
Ron closed the door and looked around to find Hermione sitting on the couch and gazing, open mouthed, at the bundle in her hands.
"What is it?" said Ron, ambling over to her.
Hermione shook her head, speechless. She beckoned Ron to stand behind her and she slowly lifted the blanket back.
"Bloody hell..." Ron said.
There, curled in Hermione's arms, was a baby.
At first glance Hermione knew it was a boy. He was sleeping peacefully, a peek on his tiny fist poking overtop of the blanket. His hair was the exact fiery red color as Ron's, but his pale skin was freckle free. Hermione gaped at Ron, asking him for an explanation. Slowly, almost like he was in a dreamlike trance, he unfolded one of the papers. It read:
Certificate of Birth
Sirius Arthur Potter
is born on this day of
May 28th, 2008
to
Harry Potter Ginny Weasley
Father Mother
Sirius Arthur Potter.
Potter.
Then that must mean that Ginny...
Ron couldn't complete the thought.
He handed Hermione the certificate after he had read and re-read it for the twelfth time. Rendered speechless and ignoring Hermione's questions of what was the matter, he opened the second paper. It was a hand written letter from Ginny:
Dear Ron,
By the time you read this, Harry and I will both be dead. I didn't want it to end
like this and I'm sorry.
A few days ago, we found out that the only way for Harry to rid us of Voldemort for good is for Harry to kill Voldemort - and himself as well. I can't live without him, Ron. He's a part of me; he take my heart with him if he died alone. So we came to a conclusion: we'll die together in the war. I remember Hermione telling me once about a Muggle romance that both lovers died together. Romeo and Juliet, was it? Though both those Muggle's lives and Harry and I's lives are completely different, I wanted to die the same way; with the man I want to be with for eternity.
There was one problem in our plan, however: Harry was the only one who was destined to die in the war. I wasn't. I defiantly wasn't going to commit suicide, I couldn't take my own life like that. I wanted to give my life for someone I loved, just like Harry was sacrificing himself for all the people he cared for... and so many others. But how was I to do that? I couldn't predict what was going to happen in the Final Battle, besides that Harry was going to die of course. I got my answer when I was in the Hog's Head one afternoon. The bartender had some information about two men that came into his pub that he suspected to be Death Eaters. They were talking about killing someone, he told me. They were going to rid of someone in the Final Battle, they had it all planned out. He said something about "The Blood-Traitor friend". It was you, Ron. They wanted to kill you. I made it my goal to give my life for yours, Ron. You're my brother, Ron, and I would be trampled by rampaging Hippogriffs before I'd let you die.
Harry and I also decided to have a child. It's something I've always wanted (and secretly, it's something Harry's always wanted as well). Now before you go off and give me the whole 'you're too young' speech, let me explain myself first. I know I'm only seventeen, but I'm ready for this. I've already given myself completely and willingly to Harry in a way two people in love can. I didn't shag Harry like I've always joked about. No, Harry and I are more than that. Come to think of it, shagging is such a smutty word. Oh, Lord, I sound just like Hermione, don't I? I knew hanging around her would have some kind of effect on me.
We've given the baby a name, as well, I'm going to have a boy. Harry and I already consider ourselves married, we don't need rings or a wedding to prove that we love each other. The surname is Potter. I gave him a middle name, Arthur, after our father and great-grandfather. His first name is named after one of the bravest and greatest wizard I've ever known. We named him after Sirius.
Ron, you are by far my favorite brother. So I am giving you an enormous responsibility. I
want you to take care of Sirius. Actually, I want you and Hermione to take care of Sirius together. I know you two love each other. If you could just see how you look at her, you'd know too. You've fancied her for ages, Ron. It's about time you tell her before she finds someone else. As a final wish from me, I want you two to get together. You were meant to be, I just know it.
I love you, Ron. You're the only person I would trust to take care of Sirius. You taught me everything I needed ton know about life: how to live, how to make friends, and how to love. Now, pass everything you taught me on to Sirius. Treat him like you're son. I know you can do it. I have faith in you. I'll miss you, big brother, you and the rest of the family. I love you. Take care.
Your little sister,
Ginny
"Ron."
Ron looked up, completely shell shocked. Hermione beckoned him closer and held up baby Sirius. He gave a huge yawn and his eyes fluttered open. His eyes were as green as Harry's. The small boy blinked sleepily at Ron and Hermione before lifting his tiny hand and grabbing a fist-full of Hermione's unruly hair. She pulled it softly out of Sirius's hand and replaced it with her finger. The baby tightened his grip around it immediately.
"What did the letter say?" Hermione asked, not taking her eyes off of Sirius.
"Um..." Ron croaked, his voice dry. What he'd just read was slowly seeping into his brain; both the bravery and wisdom of his younger sister was quite overwhelming. He cleared his troat and raked a hand through his hair. "She - she said... well, she explained quite a lot..."
"Like?" said Hermione.
"Like... like that baby that your holding has a name: Sirius Arthur Potter."
"Potter?"
"Yeah, Potter. He's Ginny's child -"
"What!"
"Harry and Ginny had a child together and they named him after Sirius -"
"Wait - wait a moment!" said Hermione, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Ginny and Harry had a child?" Ron nodded. "Together?" Ron nodded again. Hermione stared at him. "Are we talking about the same Ginny and Harry?" Ron didn't answer, but looked down at Ginny's letter again. A few seconds passed by until Hermione, not settling for Ron's silence, spoke again. "Why?"
Ron plunked down on the arm of the couch next to her, letting his walking stick slide to the floor. For some reason, he felt calm - calmer than he had been in a long time.
"You were right about Harry and Ginny loving each other. They did - a lot. So much that they actually wanted to die together. Ginny knew Harry was going to die, and she wanted to go with him - she didn't think she could go on if he went without her -"
"Well that's not a very sensible thing to do!" Hermione exclaimed"Plan on dying just because Harry was destined to die! Who gave her that idea anyway?"
"Apparently you did."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you told her some Muggle story ages ago and she said in her letter that she wanted to die like those two Muggles did."
"Romeo and Juliet," Hermione whispered, stunned. "I'd forgotten I told her that story... But why would they have a baby?"
"Ginny always wanted to be a mother, she always used to talk about having a big family like Mum when she got older. She was more like Mum than I thought," Ron added with a small laugh. "Hermione... they knew they weren't going to live long enough to get married and raise a family. So, it looks like they did as much as they could before they died."
"Yes, but having a baby and plan on dying right after is completely barbaric!" Hermione cried. "Why would they have a son and then leave him? How could they!"
Ron paused, thinking hard before he answered; Ginny's ploy was becoming clearer the more he thought about it.
"I think having a chile full-filled their lives. Maybe to them, Sirius was the only hope they had for a new generation - a safer generation - of witches and wizards. Maybe they thought if they had a child, they could go on knowing that their child would grow up in a world that was safe."
Hermione stared at Ron. Ron folded Ginny's letter back up and tucked it into his back pocket
"What?" he asked when he saw Hermione's eyes were locked on him.
"Nothing," she said, though she still gazed at him, admiration and wonder sparkling in her eyes. "It's just you're a lot smarter that you make out to be."
Ron laughed. So did Hermione.
"We're going to take care of him," Ron said after a moment.
"What?"
"Sirius. We're going to take care of him."
"Who decided this?"
"Ginny. She said she didn't trust anyone else but us to watch over her son."
"Us?" Hermione said softly. "But that would mean we had to be -"
"Together." Ron finished her sentence. "Yes. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Hermione blushed scarlet to the roots of her busy hair and looked down.
"Are you saying that -"
"I fancy you?" Ron finished again. "Yeah, I do. I reckon I have for a long time."
"So that means that -"
"I'm asking you out?" Ron said smiling. "Yes, I am."
Hermione didn't look up as he said this, but he could she her smile plastered on her face.
"Me too," she said. "I mean, I think I've always fancied you as well... but I always thought things would just -"
"-Fall into place?" said Ron. "I had a feeling they would."
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"You had a feeling we were going to end up together?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, a very strong feeling."
"How do you know?"
"Well, we keep finishing each other's sentences -"
"-But we always do that." Hermione interrupted.
"-And we're together now, aren't we? I think things fit into place just perfectly."
Ron hadn't meant to sound so cheesy, but he couldn't help it.
Hermione smiled lovingly at him and looked back a Sirius, who still had her finger. He stared up at Hermione, fully awake, and Hermione touched his cheek with the palm of her hand.
"Hello, Sirius," she said to the baby. "Ron and I are going to take care of you from now on, ok?"
Ron chuckled. He felt drained of all the sorrow and aguish he'd built up inside of him over the past six days. Now he was filled with (could it be?) happiness so great, he thought he might be hovering a few feet off of the couch. Ginny and Harry were safe together. Now matter what happened from now on - whether there was another war in a year or two or twenty - no one could ever hurt them again.
And that's the way it should be, Ron thought.
He looked out the window and received a jolt of surprise.
"Hey, Hermione, look!" he cried, stumbling out of his heat and hobbling toward the window, completely disregarding his cane.
"Ron! Be careful!" said Hermione worryingly as she shot out of the couch as well, carrying Sirius in her arms.
"Look!" Ron said, pointing out of the window. She did and gasped.
It had stopped raining.
Ron didn't think he'd ever seen London so beautiful. The window was still streaked with trails of rain and the paved row below them was still a wet coal black. But on the sidewalks, umbrellas were being lowered and rain jackets were being donned off. The clouds overhead were dark and fluffy and massively big, but they were parting slowly to reveal a golden sun from behind them. Ron actually had to squint, he hadn't seen sunshine in so long. The rays were slicing majestically through the clouds, kissing the tall buildings of London as they hit them. Instantly, it seemed the once dark and forbidding city was being rejuvenated with life once more. Colors stood out suddenly on the streets. The window which Ron and Hermione were looking through looked as if it was made out of some shimmery substance. When the light touched the water droplets that were clinging to the window, it created a beautiful sheet of glistening glass. The room behind them was quickly rid of all the shadows as the sun filtered though the widow. All at once, the city of London came back to life again.
It was a miracle.
Or maybe it was magic.
Ron looked at Hermione. Her profile was outlined in gold from the sunlight and her unruly hair shined with a faint copper glow. Her fingertips grazed the window as her eyes looked around London in awe. Even Sirius, who was still wrapped in the blue blanket, was staring around in amazement at the huge world around him. Hermione caught Ron's gaze and smiled. He returned it, sliding an arm around her shoulders. Hermione sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.
At that moment, Ron knew that their mourning was through. The war was over, it was actually over, and there was no use in dwelling on the events of the past. It was time to brush themselves off and start over. It was time to rebuild their world. It was time to heal. Though healing was never easy, it would always be better in the end. It was time to live. Live and be happy.
Ron smiled as a thought came to him. Harry and Ginny had started a family. Together. And what was more, they blessed him with a family of his own. Ron tightened an arm around Hermione and Sirius. This was hi family. His own family...
He silently thanked Ginny for being such a wonderful sister, and Harry for being a great
best mate.
Ron stood with Hermione and Sirius at the window, enjoying the beauty of the new world that had washed away every last trace of sorrow. Though evil could never really be banished for good, it was postponed for the time being and it would be quite some time before it decided to crop up again. The future still remained unclear, but Patrick knew there was a happier and brighter future shining on the horizon.
For the first time there was hope.
And that was the way it should be.
Fin