Author's note: I do not, of course, own Harry Potter, nor do I own the Bible ( where the quote's from). In case you don't recognize the quote, it's from the story of Naomi, who (I think this is how it goes) leaves her tribe to live with her mother-in-law.
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"Wherever
you go, I will go.
Your
people will be my people,
and
your god will be my god."
"Harry," Ron asked, "what are you doing?"
I paused, cloak half folded, and gazed sightlessly at my hands. "I'm leaving."
He didn't ask why, didn't tell me not to go. I was grateful for that, at least. Instead, he turned to the door and called down to the common room. "Hermione! Get up here. You were right."
So they'd suspected I'd run. I couldn't find the energy to be angry. I couldn't find the energy to do much, actually, except keep packing. I dumped my socks on top of the stack of cloaks and opened the next drawer.
"I told you so, Ron," Hermione said, voice smug. "Pay up."
At the sound of galleons changing hands I did look up. "You guys bet on it?"
"Look, Harry," Hermione said kindly, "you beat Voldemort, the war's over, and you're of age. If I was you I'd run as well."
"I'm not running!"
"Of course you're not. Lucky for you, we're coming with you."
I paused. "You're what?"
"Coming with you."
Somehow, the words didn't make any more sense the second time around. "You can't do that. I'm going into the muggle world—"
"We know," they chorused.
"Ron, you don't know anything about being a muggle—"
"Good thing I'm going with you then, eh mate?"
I tried again. "Hermione, I can't ask you to just drop everything and—"
"Harry." Hermione knelt in front of me, hands on my shoulders, bright eyes holding mine. "You don't have to ask. Friends forever, right? And friends never abandon each other."
Ron wrapped an arm around me from behind. "You're stuck with us, Harry. Might as well give up and enjoy it."
I leaned back against Ron as Hermione hugged me, closed my eyes, and finally allowed myself to hope.
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