Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and if you haven't realized that by now, there's nothing I can do for you.
This was going to be the last chapter, but it ended up being longer than I expected. SO, this is the second-to-last chapter. Thanks again for those of you who read and review!
Here's a recap:
Hermione made to get up from the couch, but Ron pulled her back down.
"I've got to go see him!" Hermione said to him indignantly.
"You should stay here," he said, getting up from the sofa himself. "Fleur can fix up your leg, and then you'll be able to go see Harry."
Ron let go of Hermione's hand begrudgingly. He did not want to distance himself from her too soon, but he had to go see Harry.
He stepped out into the night. It was cool and breezy, not befitting a night of such tragedy. Ron had been outside for two seconds, when Dean called out from inside the cottage, "Ron! Wait, I'm coming, too."
Ron, still not forgetting what he had seen Dean and his baby sister doing in sixth year, slowed, but did not stop.
Eventually, Dean fell into step with him, and a very awkward silence ensued. Sensing why Ron wasn't speaking to him, Dean said, "Y'know, I'm sorry about what you, er, saw me and Ginny doing last year."
Immediately, the image of Dean and Ginny wrapped in a tight embrace popped into his mind.
"Yeah," Dean continued, "I reckon I wouldn't want to see anyone with my little sister like that."
Ron snorted. I bet you wouldn't…
"So, yeah, sorry," Dean finished quietly, apprehensive of Ron's demeanor.
More silence. Ron breathed in the salty sea air. He took another deep breath, and could smell a faint scent of vanilla and green apple coming from his shirt: Hermione's hair. It was the same scent that had entranced him last year in their first Potions lesson.
With many more breaths, Ron allowed himself to be engulfed by memories of him and Hermione. Instantly, his mind became flooded with random scenes: Ron was atop a giant knight in a life-size chess set, watching as a towering queen made her way towards him; Hermione was lying in a hospital bed, Petrified; Hermione had slapped Malfoy round the face; Ron was watching as Hermione entered the Great Hall, arm in arm with Viktor Krum; Hermione was standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek before his first Quidditch match; Hermione was sending a flock of canaries at Ron's head after she had seen him with Lavender; Ron was holding Hermione's head as she sobbed into his shoulder at Dumbledore's funeral...
The one that stood out the most was one from their second year. Looking back, it was at that moment ─ when he saw his best friend as still as death ─ that Ron realized Hermione may be more than a friend to him. He didn't dwell on it at the time; he was only twelve years old, after all, and had no interest in girls.
But Hermione had been different. She still was. Even now, he couldn't put a finger on what he loved about her. Was it her eyes, her smile? How she said his name? How red her face got while she would argue with him? How she sought him for comfort? He smiled to himself. The truth was, he loved every single thing about her, and to try and list them all would be impossible.
The longer he walked, the more Ron felt extremely immature. In his mind's eye, an image formed of Hermione, telling him off for giving Dean the cold shoulder. "How could you?" she reprimanded, her face showing signs of frustration that only Ron could bring about. "Ginny was fifteen at the time, and she was at perfect liberty to date whomever she pleased! And it's not like she was parading about; it was in a deserted corridor! Honestly, Ron, how I put up with you..." The Hermione in his mind shook her head in a wearisome way, and the scene dissolved.
She does have a point, I guess, Ron thought. Oh, what am I on about? She didn't tell me anything! It was all in my head. Even so, he had resolved to apologize to Dean for his behavior. Just when he was about to do so, he realized that he was standing in front of Harry, who was slowly digging a grave for Dobby.
Harry looked up from inside the shallow hole and said to Ron, "How's Hermione?"
"Better," said Ron. "Fleur's looking after her."
Harry went back to digging, and, with a quick look at Dean, they both grabbed spades of their own. Ron and Dean jumped into the hole and helped Harry dig the elf's grave. With all of them digging, the grave was the proper size in a few minutes.
Harry wrapped his jacket more snugly around Dobby. Thinking about their fourth year, and the ludicrously designed socks the elf had made Harry for Christmas, Ron sat on the edge of the grave and pulled off his own socks and shoes. He placed them on Dobby's bare feet. Dean also gave his respects by producing a woolen hat, which was placed on the elf's head by Harry.
Ron heard footsteps from behind him, and Luna said, "We should close his eyes."
She wasn't the only one who came out. Bill, Fleur, and to Ron's delight, Hermione, all came traipsing out of the cottage to pay their last respects to Dobby. Hermione was still pale, and looked unsteady on her feet. Once she was close enough, Ron put a comforting arm around Hermione and pulled her to him. She hugged him as well, and leaned her head against his chest. Ron could feel her warm tears stain his shirt, and he hugged her more tightly.
Watching over Hermione's head, he saw Luna come forward and slide each of the elf's eyelids down over his eyes.
"There," she said softly. "Now he could be sleeping."
Harry lifted the elf gently and placed in the bottom of the grave. As he climbed back out, Ron moved forward with Hermione so they were standing right next to the grave. Hermione raised her head from his chest ever so slightly to take a last look at Dobby. This seemed too much for her to bear, because her tears began to fall even faster down her face. Ron wiped some away with his roughened hands and pulled her head back to lie on his chest. Some tears of his own were welling up in his eyes as he stroked Hermione's hair, much like he did at Dumbledore's funeral.
"I think we ought to say something," piped up Luna. "I'll go first, shall I?"
Everyone turned their gaze away from the elf to look at Luna as she addressed Dobby.
"Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now."
Luna's speech caused so much emotion to overcome Ron that he was very surprised when Luna turned and looked at him, clearly waiting for him to say something. Thinking on the spot, he cleared his throat and said in a thick voice, "Yeah…thanks, Dobby." It was very lame compared to Luna's tribute, but it was all he could think of at the moment.
"Thanks," muttered Dean.
Harry swallowed, and with great difficulty, said, "Good-bye, Dobby."
The power of those two words hit all of them with such finality that Ron's breath caught in his chest. He gripped Hermione even more tightly, thanking Merlin that this wasn't her funeral.
Bill raised his wand, and the pile of earth beside the grave rose up into the air and fell neatly upon it, a small, reddish mound.
"D'you mind if I stay here a moment?" Harry asked the others.
Ron was not really paying attention to what Harry said, for he was too wrapped up in comforting Hermione. She seemed to hear him, though. Ron heard her say, "Alright," to Harry. Ron moved forward, removed one arm from Hermione, and patted Harry on the shoulder, trying to say without words, "You'll be fine." He then put his arm back around her, and they walked together, silently, back to the cottage.
Once at the front door, Ron held it open and allowed Hermione to pass. He shut the door, as they were the last to go inside, besides Harry.
Bill, Fleur, Dean, and Luna were already gathered in the sitting room. Bill and Fleur were sitting on the sofa Hermione had laid on just minutes before. Luna was sitting on an old armchair, and Dean was sitting on an overstuffed pouf, reminiscent of the ones in the Gryffindor common room, directly in front of her. Hermione sank into the armchair nearest her, and Ron grabbed a wooden chair from the adjoining kitchen and placed it next to Hermione's.
"So," said Bill in a businesslike tone, "I suppose you all would like to know what's been going on."
"Yes," said Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Dean simultaneously.
"Well, we've been keeping an ear out for Potterwatch," continued Bill, "and they say that Muggle-borns are getting more grief than ever at Hogwarts. They're taking them away to Merlin knows where every day."
Ron half-glanced at Hermione, and he was thankful that she was safe.
"And, as we all know," Bill said, "blood-traitor is next to Muggle-borns in the Ministry's book, so it's lucky that Ginny's on holiday. If she'd been at Hogwarts, they could have taken her before we reached her. Now we know she's safe, too."
Bill turned around and looked at a point over Ron's shoulder. Ron twisted around in his seat and saw that Harry was standing in the doorway, listening. His hands were filthy with dirt and blood.
"I've been getting them all out of the Burrow," Bill explained to Harry. "Moved them to Muriel's. The Death Eaters know Ron's with you now, they're bound to target the family ─ don't apologize," he added at the sight of Harry's expression. "It was always a matter of time, Dad's been saying so for months. We're the biggest blood-traitor family there is."
"How are they protected?" Harry asked Bill, and Ron could tell he was thinking about Ginny. Unlike himself, Harry didn't have the girl he loved there with him, and he could tell it was killing him.
"Fidelius Charm. Dad's Secret-Keeper. And we've done it on this cottage too; I'm Secret-Keeper here. None of us can go to work, but that's hardly the most important thing. Once Ollivander and Griphook are well enough, we'll move them to Muriel's too. There isn't much room here, but she's got plenty. Griphook's legs are on the mend, Fleur's given him Skele-Gro; we could probably move them in an hour or ─"
"No," Harry interrupted in a very authoritative voice. "I need both of them here. I need to talk to them. It's important."
Ron looked at him, puzzled. Why in the world does Harry need to talk to them?, he thought.
"I'm going to wash," Harry told Bill. "Then I'll need to see them, straightaway." And he left the room.
Not soon afterwards, Bill and Fleur got up from the sofa, and Dean and Luna followed. Hermione, seeing the sofa was free again, got up from her chair and crossed as quickly as she could to lie on the couch. Her breathing was shallow even from that short trip. Ron grabbed his chair and moved it next to Hermione.
So? How was it? Leave me a review and let me know- it makes me happy when I know my work is appreciated!
COMING NEXT: Why did Ron and Hermione look "oddly relieved"?