Do not stand at my grave and weep.
Chapter Three –I am the thousand winds that blow
This chapter is dedicated to HalfASlug :)
I don't own Harry Potter, in any way, at all. Sadly.
As Hermione woke, she felt his eyes on her before she saw him, his eyes, matching the stormy shoreline behind him, glinting in the shadows. She had known he'd be there. The past 2 nights, he had sat in the armchair that he'd pushed to the side of her bed. Watching her, studying her. Noting the scratches and bruises, but counting the breaths as her chest rose, and her eyelids fluttered. Occasionally she'd wake, coming to, frozen with terror, the nightmares of cold marble floors, crazy haired witches and knives. Ron would instantly be by her side, stroking her back and wiping away her tears, holding her as she clutched the front of his shirt, burying her head into his chest. The steady thrum of his heart convincing her that they were safe, that they had escaped.
Sometimes, Ron noticed a shadow from under the door, floorboards creaking as someone else who had been woken by Hermione's screams, usually Harry, who found it hard to sleep anyway, checked to make sure she wasn't alone. But tonight wasn't like that.
Hermione slowly sat up, avoiding putting pressure on her bandage arm.
"Couldn't sleep?" her soft voice broke the gentle silence, waves lapping peacefully in the distance. Ron, who had only slept a few hours during the day, blearily rubbed his eyes.
"Yeah, I, erm, don't quite trust the darkness" he admitted, pushing a hand through his hair. Hermione paused, not wanting to push for more, but she felt there was more to it. "I don't like not knowing if you're safe, in my dreams, it all comes back, the not knowing, the helplessness. Being stuck in that cellar, listening to you scream, hearing you being so brave while I was stuck, unable to help. I had only just gotten you back, and then she took you from me. I felt so useless. Yet you were so brave and strong." his voice broke near the end, "I don't deserve you. And I never want to leave you again". During his speech, he had moved to kneeling by the bed, one hand framing her face, the other grasping hers. "I am so sorry", a lone tear dripped down his long nose, "I am so sorry I left you, I couldn't save you, I couldn't do anything".
Hermione placed her left hand on his scruffy cheek, wiping away his tears with her thumb, his unshaven face tickling her skin. Their eyes locked together, chocolate meeting storm. She could only move his hand from her face to her chest, just above her heart. Holding his palm over the steady beat, she leaned forward, placing her forehead against his.
"You did save me. This heart beats for you, you say you did nothing but you saved my life. The only keeping me awake that night was your voice. Reminding me that there was hope. Filling me with love. Giving me a future. And that hope, and that love, and that possibility of a future with you was still within reach. Every time my heart beats, it's because of you and it's for you, no matter what." The honesty in her eyes and her voice, gave Ron the same the same hope he gave her.
Ron pulled her into his arms, burying his nose in her crazy hair. If they got out of this, he swore to himself that he would spend every day proving himself to her, proving he deserves her love. In this one moment, he had never felt more love for the small witch in his arms, the moonlight enveloping them in a circle of silver, he pulled back, and framed her face with his hands, his eyes seeking hers.
"Marry me?" he whispered, his eyes searching hers, watching the love blossom across her face. "Marry me so I can love you forever." He had dreamed of this moment, although he hadn't really planned it this early into the relationship. They hadn't even been on a date, but spending months together, on the run from the darkest wizard alive, and being friends for years must count for something. And with all that was going on, all he wanted was the promise of something better, something to fight for.
"Yes." The whisper across her lips was almost carried away by the crashing waves behind them.
"Yes? Really?"
"Yes, of course, yes!"
Their lips met in a crushing wave of love, and hope and joy and passion, which ended with Hermione pulling away slightly, both panting heavily. "Need air" she gasped.
"Fuck air" he groaned, and he swooped down to recapture her lips, tugging lightly on her bottom lip. It ended with Ron falling on top of Hermione, leaning his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing her small frame. After a couple minutes, or hours, he tucked a tendril of curly hair behind her ear, and gazed into her eyes, his mind blown that this brilliant girl could want him to stand by him, till the end.
"Always the tone of surprise" she whispered, smiling into the night. His mind filled with flashes of flying, and duelling, George and alleyways, memories that felt like they belonged to someone else.
Ron pulled the covers up over the two of them, and wrapped his arms around Hermione, his fiancée, his future. Her back was tucked into his chest, her most vulnerable part, and she trusted him to watch over it.
"And it's you are whatever the moon has always meant and the sun will always sing is you" she murmured. Ron pressed a kiss behind her ear, and his whisper carried across the room, across the beach, across the waves and over to the land where dreams come true.
"I will love you until the end of time."
Hermione rolled over, snuggling into the empty side of the bed, reaching for his warmth, but her hand fell limply onto the pillow. Her eyes flew open and scrambled backwards, falling , her eyes frantically searching for the familiar head of ginger hair. But she was alone.
Early morning sun was pouring through the window, flooding the room with light. She was in Ron's attic room, and the view out the window was of rolling hills and countryside, not a beach with crashing waves. She rolled off the bed, and searched underneath the bed wildly, her hands scrabbling at chocolate frog wrappers and scraps of old parchment, finally her fingers grasped the soft material of the beaded bag. Forgetting her wand, she stuck her arm into the bag which was pulled up to her armpit, as her hand searched the bag and its contents, repressing the memories that certain items reminded her of. Her fingers closed over the small object, her fist clenched around it. She threw the bag to the corner of the room. She slowly opened her hand, and there, in the palm of her hand sat a ring of sea glass. The pale green seemed to glow in the early morning sun, the smooth and dusty surface having an ethereal light. It was the top of a bottle which had been worn smooth by the Cornwall waves. The morning after his proposal, Ron had spent hours scouring the shore for the perfect stone, which, with a few modifications, became a beautiful pale green thin band of light. He had pulled her aside from the plans for Gringotts, and knelt down on one knee, although, midway through his re-proposal, she shrieked, and threw her arms around him. They convinced Harry that they knew the plan off by heart, and spent the rest of the afternoon together on the beach. That afternoon was the last true moment of peace that they would ever have together, as the next day, they left for Gringotts.
The overwhelming grief hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. A heart wrenching howl tore its way from her chest, as the soul piercing agony poured through her very blood. She cried, and sobbed and screamed, curling into herself, pulling the Chudley Canons blanket from the bed, and howling into the material, as it absorbed her tears. She didn't notice Harry and the Weasleys, her family, spilling into the room, bleary eyed but alert for attack, only to realise the sound they heard was not a battle, but the sound of a young heart breaking. Hermione's breathing slowly evened, and she found herself staring into the eyes of Mrs Weasley, who was kneeling in front of her. She hiccupped and wiped the snot and tears from her face, and she tore her eyes from the tear filled ones belonging to the older witch who had slowly become her mother. Her eyes gazed out of the window, the beauty of the view pissing her off and calming her down. She turned back to her family, who had, without her realising, helped her to break down the wall that had separated her from her pain, and her recovery.
"We were going to get married", she cried. "He was my moon, and my sun, and I've lost him."