Candleburn

�She died�she died and it�s all your fault.�

The accusation ran through him like a sword, leaving him speechless as he stared at the person who had just spoken. There was nothing he could say, nothing that could make what had happened right. And he knew that if he tried to speak, he would only end up screaming at his friend. Yet, the words escaped his mouth before he could help it. �You think I wanted that to happen?�

A pair of amber eyes darted his way, and he shifted uneasily on his seat. He could take it from him, but not from her. �If I could go back in time and die instead of her, I would. But I can�t.� But that wasn�t exactly true, he had tried, had gone back in time using Hermione�s time turner, but everything he had done had failed. He couldn�t tell them that, he knew this would only end up in more blame and he wasn�t sure he could bear it.

�No you wouldn�t. You wouldn�t because you�re a selfish bastard.�, Ron finished, standing up and turning his back to them to leave the Grand Hall. Harry looked after him, feeling more guilty than ever before. It truly was his fault His first instinct was still to stand up and rush behind his best friend to talk this through, even comfort him, but he knew from experience that it only made things worse. A hand weighted on his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts, and he turned to lock eyes with Hermione. �Harry, don�t listen to him. It�s not your fault��

He only looked at her, confused as to why she was trying to comfort him while the one who truly needed this treatment was walking out the doors. Her eyes seemed to seek something in his, eyes that were still red from all the tears she had cried and the ones she would still cry. �It�s not your fault, you need to understand that.�, she finished before bending forward and kissing him softly on the cheek. He closed his eyes at the warmth of her lips on his cheek and didn�t see her standing up slowly with one last look at him and leaving the room. He was left alone, sitting with the rest of the Gryffindor students. Some of them had turned to look at him, and some of them were still missing, too affected by their grief, mostly fifth years. He sat there as the grand hall emptied, remembering the look in Ginny�s eyes as she had died in his arms.

He couldn�t feel anything but the bite of the poison as it made its way towards his heart, rushing through his veins, burning like acid, didn�t even realise he was convulsing on the muddy ground. All he knew was that this was the end. No victory, no revenge. He would die at the hand of Voldemort like the rest of his family.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione�s unconscious body laying next to him, and behind her, Ron, in the same state as he was. His vision was blurred by tears of pain and frustration, and all he could see as he looked up were two red blurs looking down on him. But he could hear Voldemort�s laugh and his words. �So Harry Potter, this is your great victory? Your prophecy?�

Blood poured from his mouth as he parted his lips to reply, to curse at his enemy, but nothing but a gurgle came out. He saw the light catching the blade of the sword as Voldemort raised it above his head, intent on bringing it down on the Potter child that he had feared for so many years and had proven to be so little a threat. �This is your prophecy�.

As the sword began its descent towards his chest, the only thing he could think about was Sirius. How he had failed him, how he had failed all of them. This was the essence of who he was. They had placed such high hopes in him: Dumbledore, his parents, Sirius, the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione, Ron�and he had fallen without even putting up much of a fight. Down in the chamber of secrets, surrounded by the people he had failed the most, he would die and darkness would prevail. Tears now ran down his face, mixing with the blood and sweat that already covered it, and he shut his eyes, unable to look into the eyes of the Dark Lord. Voldemort would not get to look at him in the eyes, see his life leave him slowly. He would never get this privilege.

But the pain never came. Instead came a scream and a frustrated groan as something rushed past him. He heard the clatter of the sword as it hit the rocky ground next to him and he opened his eyes. The scene before him was confusing at the very least, and he rolled on his side to get a better view, causing an unspeakable pain to erupt in his chest. Pushing the pain away, he looked on as Ginny hung onto Voldemort�s neck from behind him and he clawed at her hands and arms to get rid of her. Her hands were bloodied and he could see the pain this was causing her by the grimace that twisted her beautiful features. Yet, she never lessened her grip. Harry forced himself onto his knees, remembering how four years before, Ginny and him had found themselves in the same room, remembering the pain of the Basilic�s poison. This poison was different, much less lethal, yet he knew it was drawing him to his death. Hermione had already fainted from the pain, and Ron was fighting it the best he could, which given the strength of the poison, didn�t add up to much. �Ginny..�, he whispered, wondering how she had made her way there. They had left her, Neville and Luna to guard the entrance, but he suspected that her worry for her brother and her fiery nature had driven her to follow them at the first sign of trouble�which most likely had been Hermione�s scream as the arrow had hit her in the leg, forcing her to the ground. She had been the first victim of the poison and from her pale lips and features, he knew it was only a question of minutes before she faded from this world.

Twisting his body and lowering his back, Voldemort finally reached out for Ginny and caught her, throwing her across the room and onto the wall. She hit it with a moan and fell onto the ground, a deep cut on her forehead seeping blood. Powered by anger, Harry dragged himself up, his legs shaking as he looked at Voldemort. For a moment they only stared at each other, then Harry launched at him, crying out with rage. He had no weapon, no plan, but he wouldn�t allow himself to simply stand there as his friends died around him. If he had to die tonight, he wouldn�t die laying on his back, he would do so fighting his lifetime enemy.

One blow sent him flying before he was even aware of Voldemort�s violent punch hitting him on the jaw. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth again as he landed face down, one of the lenses of his glasses shattering on impact. The pain forced him to remain grounded even though he wanted nothing more but to stand back up and charge again. But his broken body simply wouldn�t allow him to. He simply laid there, panting and wheezing, fighting to breathe through the blood. He looked over his shoulder as Voldemort approached, the victorious grin he had wore only moments before back on his face.

�Impressive little display. Suicidal, but impressive�, he paused, standing over Harry, then reached out and grabbed him by the throat, pulling him up roughly and keeping him a feet inches above the ground. �But now, it�s time to die�

Without Harry realizing it, probably while he was struggling against the pain being throw against the rocky ground had caused him, Voldemort had picked up the sword again and as he held him by the throat, he pulled it back and brought it forward against Harry�s chest.

The following seconds were a blur. A blinding pain, the cold ground and a scream. In his confusion, he wondered if the scream had been his own, but reaching down to his stomach, he found no blood or wound. What he saw when he looked up horrified him. Impaled on the sword, clutching at Voldemort�s dresses in a desperate attempt to keep herself from the bite of the sword�s blade was Ginny, her eyes wide. It was not what she had expected, not what she had thought when she�d jumped in front of Harry, freeing him from the evil wizard�s grip but putting herself in the way of the sword. Pushing on her chest, Voldemort slid her off the blood stained sword, and her body fell next to Harry with a soft moan. Harry glanced to her, then back at Voldemort as he backed a few feet. He seemed just as confused as Harry was, as if everything had gone too fast for him to comprehend. He didn�t look horrified, taking a life wasn�t new ground for him, simply shocked. And when a grin finally lifted the corners of his mouth as he realized the consequences of his action on Harry�s psyche, a sudden lighting bolt split the air, striking him in the middle of the chest and projecting him in the pool at the base of the statue. Without a care for whom had attacked Voldemort, Harry turned to Ginny and pulled her limp body over his legs as he sat on the ground. Simply doing that was a pure torture, but he couldn�t care less.

�Ginny! Ginny!�, he called out, caressing her face softly. Her eyes flickered open, but they were different. Not the pure green they had always been, darker, as if the light behind them was slowly fading. And he realized it was�she was dying. �Harry��, she finally said, her voice faint. He smiled kindly although he couldn�t keep tears from rolling down his cheeks. �It�It hurts��, she said, her voice breaking as she pronounced the last word. She breathed in loudly, biting her bottom lip so hard it bled. �I know��

He was vaguely aware that people hurried around him, surrounding the pool where Voldemort had sunk, but he didn�t care. �I�I can�t breathe Harry��, she started, breaking into a long moan as she lifted her head to look at him in the eyes. Silently, he prayed for Fawkes to suddenly fly in, cry over Ginny�s wound and heal her like the bird had done for him years before, but he knew hoping for such a happy ending was beyond foolish. �I�m scared�, she finished, her words ripping his heart apart. Ginny was never scared, she always stood strong, proud and courageous, sometimes foolishly so. But down there, in the chamber of secrets that had seen her so close to drawing her last breath twice, with death closing in on her once again, he witnessed the fa�ade fade away until all that was left was the little girl he�d first seen. The colour of her lips offered very little contrast with her pale skin now and she shivered violently in his arms until he realized her shivers had transformed into spasms. She took in a few short breaths as he caressed her face softly, then let out one long sigh, almost a moan, before her body went limp in his arms, and her head rolled against his shoulder.

He didn�t care when Voldemort rushed out of the pool and, finding himself surrounded by the entirety of the Order of the Phoenix, was forced to disappear. Didn�t care when people surrounded him. Barely noticed when they took Ginny�s body away from him, or realized they were taking him to the infirmary. All he could hear was a deafening buzzing sound in his head, all he could see was a blur.

�Ron, wait!�

Ron stopped dead in his tracks, the voice he had heard not the one he�d dreaded to hear, yet no one he completely unexpected. Turning around slowly, he faced Hermione as she finally reached him, her long dark locks falling back against her shoulders as she came to an halt after running to catch up with Ron. �Look, whatever it is, I don�t want to ��

�I don�t care, you�re going to hear it anyway�, she interrupted, without any hint of humour or anger in her voice. But he could see in her eyes that deep down, she was boiling with rage. He could tell it wasn�t directed at him nor at anyone in particular. It was like the poison that had affected all of them that terrible night, making its way into every part of her being until it made one with her. She remained the composed Hermione he had always known, but he knew that one day, no amount of self-control would cut it anymore and all that anger would come crashing down.

�Then speak fast, �cause I�m in no mood for any sort of accusation or reproach. My sister died Hermione��

�Yes, and Voldemort killed her. Not Harry.�

He was shocked at the bluntness of her words. There was no hinted subtext, no delicacy, just the flat out truth. For a moment, he was at a loss for words, before the response came, almost instinctively. �He might as well have, if it wasn�t for him��

He knew he had pushed the wrong button when she interrupted him, her voice loud and angry. �Might as well have? Do you think Harry asked for this? Think he wanted his parents, Sirius, Cedric or Ginny to die? You�re demented if you can even think that for one second. You�re as guilty as he is in all this. You were down there too. You couldn�t save her anymore than he could.�

�She died saving him�, he pointed out, his voice calm even though he wanted to explode right back at her. He just didn�t have the strength anymore. Weeks of crying and insomnia had worn him out, all that was left to power him was his anger.

�As she could have died saving you�Don�t you see Harry�s gone numb over this? Don�t you see he�s completely cut off from everything? He quit Quidditch, he�s failing all his classes. He doesn�t sleep at night and he doesn�t even talk to me anymore.�

�Ah! Finally, it comes out. You. See, what you�re really sad about Hermione, is that before Ginny died, Harry and you had this bizarre start of a relationship and now he won�t even look at you anymore. Or kiss you or acknowledge you exist really. You couldn�t care less that Ginny died.�

The slap came like a brick wall, leaving him speechless as he pressed his hand against his throbbing cheek. When he looked back at her, he caught the light reflecting in her eyes as they filled with tears. And he realized then that he had gone too far. �I�m so��

�Don�t you dare! Don�t you dare say you�re sorry. It�s been two weeks Ron, and we all feel incredibly sorry for you, but we all miss her. We all mourn her. The fact that she was your sister gives you no right to destroy other people simply to make you feel better. I am done being your punching bag Ronald Weasley. I listened to you, I held you in my arms while you cried, and this is how you repay me? Do you think there�s a second that passes where I don�t wish I�d saved her or died trying? She was my best friend Ron, she was��

But it was all too much. Her voice gave in and tears came pouring down on her face. She couldn�t look at him any longer and before he could say anything, she turned around and ran, leaving him standing in the middle of the alleyway as a large crowd came out of the Grand Hall doors, heading for their first class of the day.

Hermione pushed the heavy door leading to the room she herself alone occupied, given her Gryffindor Headgirl status, and pressed her back against it as she closed it behind her. Her face was distorted by the sobs she tried to hold back without much success as she tried to calm herself down by taking in long breaths. For the last month, she had been on edge, nearing her breaking point every time she opened up to someone. Many times she wondered if it would be easier to cut herself off like Harry did, to numb the pain and all other emotions by shoving them into an imaginary black hole. Anything to stop the ache that had set shop in her chest, crushing her heart.

Leaving the support of the door, she walked the short distance that led to her bed and sat on it, doing her best not to let her stare slide towards the pictures that rested on the nightstand. She knew them by heart: Harry, Ron and her minutes before climbing onto the Hogwarts Express at the end of their first year, Ron, Harry and Ginny along with the Gryffindor team right after they�d won the previous� year�s Quidditch cup with a bunch of Slytherins assembled behind them, throwing bitter glances over their shoulders, Harry and her only a little over one month before, at the Yule Ball, and finally�her and Ginny, sitting together in their ball gowns, smiling and waving at the camera. She couldn�t bear to see Ginny, so happy, waving at her and smiling, while she still mourned her so. It only made the pain of not having her there anymore even more real.

***

�Oh come on, you need to tell me�, Ginny pointed out, pushing Hermione on the arm playfully as they both laid face down on the girl�s bed, propped on their elbows so they could look at the photo album that rested before them. Hermione blushed while she shook her long brown curls, attempting to deny that there was something to tell while the redness on her cheeks told a different story. �There�s really nothing to tell, I�He�We��

�Did he kiss you?�

Hermione stared at her friend, dumbfounded, unable to formulate an answer, before she broke into a fit of giggles. A wide smile appeared on Ginny�s face and she threw her arms around her best friend�s neck, leading them to fall off the bed they had settled on and onto the thick carpet that covered the ground. Their laughter resonated against the brick walls, completely pure and carefree. Letting go of the brunette, Ginny sat up and looked at Hermione expectantly. �Come on, do tell. The highlight of my love life is expecting Seamus to finally throw a general glance in my direction and realize I even exist.�

�He did notice you, silly, he just won�t act on it because of Dean. You know the poor boy�s not over you yet.�

Ginny had broken up with Dean a little after the beginning of the year, after discovering it was not him but Seamus she was truly interested in. It had been horrible for Dean and to this day, he still refused to talk to her, or even Ron. It was obvious her feelings for Seamus were reciprocated, simply by the way his eyes always drifted to her when they met with him, or at the Gryffindor table, which probably explained Ginny�s disappointment when Seamus had invited someone else to the Yule ball. She had gone with a random Ravenclaw student whose name she barely could remember now, and to Hermione�s surprise, Harry had invited her.

For the last few months, new feelings for the boy she had known since her first day at Hogwarts had emerged and she was overly confused by them. He had been more intentioned towards her, less inclined to get angry at her for whatever reason his mood dictated at the moment like it had been the case for the two years before that. The inseparable trio had returned to what it used to be in their first years, with the small difference that the group now included a fourth member. Because she had been included in their struggles so many times, the youngest Weasley child had become an integral part of their group, something Hermione had been more than happy about. As much as she appreciated Ron and Harry�s company, she had always missed the presence of another girl she could confide in. Lavender and Pavarti were fun to have around when it came to girly chatter and rumors, but she knew she could never seek council with them.

�You�re changing he subject, don�t change the subject. Harry and you��, Ginny said, pulling herself up and sitting on the edge of the bed as she looked down at Hermione with an eyebrow raised. The brunette blushed again before grabbing a pillow that had followed them in their fall and throwing it at her friend. With an overdramatic gasp, Ginny grabbed a pillow of her own and aimed back. Soon it escalated in a full-fledged pillow fight, feathers flying everywhere, painting the room in a pure white. The two girls laughed in a carefree spirit that was rarely given to them to enjoy, completely oblivious to the fact that less than twenty four hours later, Voldemort would kill that laughter from one of them forever.

A quiet fire burned into the fireplace of the Transfiguration class as McGonagall gave the last of her instructions on their homework and Harry wondered how long it would take before the fire consumed itself and died. Aside from the quick practice on a rat, which he had successfully turned into a flower, he had paid no attention to the class, keeping his eyes on the fire that roared at first but now merely offered a source of heat for the first few rows. Ron had sat in the seat Hermione�s absence had left empty instead of his usual place, by Harry�s side. People started gathering their things after McGonagall announced they could leave and Harry followed the wave, picking up a few roll and squeezing his impressively thick book between his arm and his upper body before heading towards the door. As he turned around, his gaze met Ron�s and he quickly turned away, unable to stand looking at his own best friend. Ron mirrored his movement, but as he did so he rushed towards the door without looking in front of him, bumping rather violently into someone and sending both their books and rolls on the ground. The redhead mumbled some random apology before bending down and reaching for his things without looking at whom he had bumped into. But soon the nagging voice that spoke up revealed who it was, �Sorry? What�s the matter with you, Weasley? Unless you have a death wish, I�d suggest you keep your beady eyes in front of you.�

Ron stood up straight, standing several inches taller than the blond haired Slytherin that stood before him. His face red with anger, he looked down at Draco, attempting to use his stature to get Malfoy to back up, but the boy only looked at him with a cruel grin on his face. �You probably do have a death wish. Seems to run in the family doesn�t it? Your stupid dead sister certainly had one�. Ron�s physical response to his words was all the encouragement Draco needed to go forward. All the blood drained from his face and his shoulders fell. That simple fact made him look several years younger, and an even easier target. �Light up Weasley, she was worse than you are. I mean, you really have to be a bloody idiot to impale yourself on a sword.�

On both sides of his body, Ron�s fist were squeezed so hard his knuckles turned white, yet he didn�t punch Draco, trying to refrain from hitting the boy. He knew that�s what the Slytherin wanted, anything to cause trouble to a Gryffindor and even more so, a Weasley. �The stupid bin�s better off dead.�

The blow landed on Draco�s jaw, sending him to the ground, so violent that it knocked him out on impact. Harry stood over Malfoy�s unconscious body, panting as if he was fighting with an inner rage that threatened to consume him whole. A larger group than before formed itself around them, several Slytherins, including an over dramatic Pansy Parkinson, who gathered around Draco and tried to get him to regain consciousness.

Harry felt one hand on his shoulder pulling him around roughly. He expected to find a discontent McGonagall there, but was instead surprised by a fist impacting on his face and sending him bumping back into a desk. The desk hit him in the middle of his thighs, sending a jolt of pain all across both legs and he grabbed the edge of the desk to keep himself from bouncing and falling on the ground. His other hand resting on his face, he looked up in shock at an enraged Ron. �Ron�I��, he started, puzzled.

�It�s your fault. I don�t care what Hermione says, I don�t care that you didn�t choose this. It�s still your fault for dragging all of us into these life and death situations. It�s you Voldemort was trying to kill, it�s you that should have died. You should have died instead of her!�, he spat as he covered the small distance that stood between them, grabbing both his shoulders and pushing him away from the desk. Harry took the second punch without trying to dodge it, because all the accusations Ron poured on him, he already felt for himself. He blamed himself, he probably would for the rest of his life. A life that would most likely be short and brutal. Ron�s face was covered in tears as he screamed at Harry with all he had, punching him a third time before the boy that lived collapsed onto the ground, his nose bleeding, his bottom lip cleaved and quickly swelling. �It�s all your fault. Your parents, Cedric, Sirius, Ginny. They all died because of you Harry. Don�t you see everyone would be better off with you dead?!�

�Mr. Weasley!�, McGonagall�s voice cried out, offended. The teacher grabbed the back of his robes and quickly dragged him out of the classroom, leaving a shattered Harry on the ground. Dean and Seamus helped him up but he freed his arms when he heard someone mention bringing him to Madame Pomfrey. He didn�t want to lay down in an hospital bed, he needed to see her. He wasn�t sure why, he simply knew that she would listen, that she would be there.

Hermione rolled onto her back and pressed her fingers against her temples, her head throbbing. She had cried herself to sleep, and now she felt like a mess. A mess she probably was. Her long dark curls were slightly tangled, her eyes red and she was only wearing the white shirt and black skirt she usually wore under her wizard robes, which rested in a pile at the foot of her bed. Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, she pushed herself up as she checked the muggle clock she kept on her nightstand. She wasn�t shocked to realize she had missed both her History of Magic and Transfiguration classes, she was shocked to realize she didn�t care. With a long sigh, she left her bed and headed for the door, deciding to go freshen up before heading out for supper.

A loud gasp escaped her mouth as she opened the door and revealed an injured Harry on the other side. For a moment, she remained silent, gazing at his bloody face, before she reached out and pulled on his arm, bringing him closer to her and lifting her other hand to touch at his cleaved lip tentatively. �Oh, Harry��

The Yule Ball was at its highest, a hundred Hogwarts students waltzing and an out of time feel resting like a veil on the room. Gleeful laughs broke the silence of the garden as a pair ran out, holding hands. Candles floating on both sides of the road lighted their way as they headed down towards the lake, the man pulling his date behind him, her ivory dress almost shining in the darkness of this cold night. At last, they stopped, both panting as he turned to face her, a large smile on his face. The brunette smiled broadly as she spoke with some difficulty. �Harry�you�re acting crazy��

His only response was a laugh and she looked into his eyes, finding nothing but happiness in them. He stopped laughing and returned her gaze, installing a long silence between them. Hermione was the first to speak up, asking a question that had troubled her for the last few weeks. �Harry�why did you invite me to the Ball?�

As if her question embarrassed him, his gaze sunk to the ground and he let go of her hand. She let it fall flatly against her thigh, a soft sound of ruffles breaking the silence as it fell against her dress. �Harry?�, she asked again, her voice so uncertain it forced him to look up at her. �For the same reason I broke up with Cho,� was his only answer, an answer that troubled her even more. She felt the knot in her stomach intensify as her amber eyes met with his green ones and he reached out again for her hands. Her hand was shaking when he laced his warm fingers with her cold ones, and she smiled nervously, her heart pounding in her chest. �Harry.. .I�m not sure I understand�

But it was a lie, she understood perfectly. It was mind blowing, surprising, and a dream come true, but she understood perfectly. She simply needed to hear him say it. As if he could read her mind, he grinned at her before bending down and softy covering her lips with his. The surprise caused her body to stiffen, but she quickly gave into the kiss. It wasn�t her first kiss, but this was different. Kissing Harry was like coming home.

�What happened Harry?�, she asked as she pulled him into her room and closed the door behind him. His only response was a grunt as she reached out to touch his cheek, which was already marked by a purple bruise, and she pulled back, a guilty look on her face for causing him pain. Before she could completely pull back, he grabbed her hand and applied it against his face again, more softly than she had previously done. �It�s ok, I�m alright.�

�You�re obviously not Harry, have you seen yourself? Who��, she began, before realisation struck. �Ron��, she finished, answering her own question. Her cheeks flushed with anger and she sighed as she saw his reaction, a simple nod. He didn�t seem angered by Ron�s attack, he simply took the hits like he deserved them, because she knew that deep down, he truly believed he did. Shaking her head, she started pulling on his arms to get him to follow her to her bed, where she sat him, bending to take a closer look at his wounds. �Now I suddenly find myself wishing I had been in that class. I would have turned him into a toad, that�s what I would have done.�

�Don�t Hermione� He�s not to blame for this�, he said, his voice weary. Her reaction was instantaneous. �Oh. Well forgive me for thinking that his fist impacting on your face made him responsible for you being in pain.�

�He�s not. He�s the one in pain Hermione, a pain I caused. You can deny it all you want Hermione, but in the end, I�m still responsible for her death. The sword was aimed at me, never at her. I might not have chosen this life but it�s still my life. There�s not a second that passes where I don�t wish it was me that died and not her, but that doesn�t make me any less responsible�, he said, his hands resting on her hips to provide her a better stability as she stood before him, between his legs and examined his wounds, cleaning the blood away with a tissue. He hissed as she brushed it over his lip, and she pulled back, wrinkling her nose. �I�m sorry��

�No, no�it�s ok. Simply stings a bit�, he said, maintaining his soft grip on her hips so she wouldn�t back away. She felt her body tingle as he pulled her a bit closer, and her hand shaking, she continued her care for his wounds. Several minutes passed with neither of them speaking, yet the silence never felt heavy between them. �Why didn�t you go to the infirmary?�

�Because I wanted to be with you.�, he said, his voice flat, like it was the most obvious thing on earth. Looking into his eyes, she felt her heart pound into her chest as she realized that he hadn�t looked at her that way for weeks, not since the night they had shared their first and only kiss. They had gone their separate ways during the Christmas vacation the day after, her with her parents and him at the Black�s House. Ginny�s death had occurred about a week after their return to Hogwarts, leaving both of them so shattered they had barely exchanged words. She turned away from him, freeing herself from his hands and threw the tissue in the trash, with a long sigh. She�d waited so long for them to be alone, like this, together, but now that they were, she was left hating her own self for being happy when Ginny was gone. It was ridiculous, she knew it was, but she still felt bad for enjoying life again with her best friend gone, as if her death should have stopped the world from turning.

�I won�t ever admit that it was your fault Harry, don�t ask that from me�, she simply said, matter-of-factly as she turned around and faced him, her arms crossed over her chest. She found him standing in front of her, his heavy robes tossed on the ground, leaving him only wearing his shirt and a loose tie over his black pants. �It doesn�t affect the fact that it is. It also doesn�t change the fact that every single one of the deaths that occurred since Voldemort came back happened because my blood flows through his veins. All these deaths, they�re my fault.�

�No! Harry! Stop doing this to yourself! Voldemort used your blood so he could kill you. But he failed. Who knows how many lives you saved by stopping him then.�, she cried out angrily, unable to believe that he would blame himself so. It felt as though all the accusations that had poured down on him throughout the years were starting to affect him in such a way that he thought them true. �Supposedly saved lives do not change the truth. Sirius, Cedric, Ginny and my parents died to save my life. If I were never born, they would still be alive today.�

His voice, flat until then, rose louder, resonating against the high walls of her large room. When he went silent, she simply looked at him, unable to come up with a reply, her eyes filled with tears of equal frustration and sadness. He starred back at her, then lifted one hand and took her chin in it, his fingers softly brushing against her skin. As he spoke again, he held her face up so she wouldn�t look away from him. �If I�d never come to Hogwarts, you would be happy now, Hermione. You wouldn�t be mourning your best friend�s death. Everyone would be better off if I were dead.�

His words cut through her like steel, leaving her shattered. Yet, somehow, she found her voice and whispered, her eyes locked with his. �If you died Harry, everything I am would die with you.� A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and travelled down her face, dying against his fingers, which still held her chin, leaving her even more aware of their proximity. Her fingers covered his hand, pushing it away, as he shook his head sadly. �Don�t Mione�don�t��

Warm lips pressing against his shut him up, and although he softly pushed her away at first, he quickly gave into the kiss, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her closer against his body. Their kiss resulted in more than a simple passion between them, it betrayed a need to find comfort in each other. To lay down their pain. Her small hands clutched at his chest, pulling against his shirt to bring him closer to her and finally giving up simply to turn to untying his shirt buttons. Pushing her backwards, he pressed her back against the wall, causing her to moan against his lips as she pushed his shirt over his broad shoulders. His tie was long gone as the shirt fell to the ground, soon followed by the white t-shirt he wore underneath. Greedy hands got her shirt open and out of the way, leaving her only in her underwear as her skirt joined it on the ground, his lips travelling down to her neck, tasting her skin. She whispered his name over and over, lost in the comfort the heat of his skin against hers provided. He suddenly pulled her against him and away from the wall, swirling her around to finally lay her down on the bed.

She groaned in protest when he didn�t kiss her, a groan that got lost in a sigh as his lips travelled down her neck towards her chest. She felt as though she was in a trance, like a thick fog surrounded them. Reaching down, she placed her hands behind his head and pulled him up so she could claim his lips once more. As he pulled back from the kiss, his green eyes met hers and she froze in place, short of breath. �I love you�

Before she could even reply, he caught her lips again, and she felt something wet and warm against her face. She instantly realized what it was: his tears. She felt her heart jump in her chest, drawn by the need to be with him, and she wrapped her legs around him as he completely laid down on top of her. The pain was sharp but it only lasted a moment, a moment during which he covered her face with a rain of soft kisses. And quickly the pain subsided, a shiver of pleasure crossing her entire body. �God, I love you��

Author's note: First, I need to thank everyone that reviewed this story. I think every review's important and that's why I replied to each of them (except for the one that was double-posted, for obvious reasons). I also take this occasion to tell you that just the fact that you're reading this means a lot, it makes all the time I spend reading it and developping the plot worthwhile. I'll keep replying to every review, no matter how much time it takes.

Now onto the story. These are the fluffy chapters. Although, my definition of fluffy is not completely accurate - I mean that they won't be as dark as perhaps the two first chapters and the chapters ahead. I've taken Ron's character pretty much as low as I could, but he had good reasons for acting this way, grief. I don't hate his character, I'm rather fond of him by moments, but his degression had its purpose in this story. Hopefully, this lighter chapter will make everyone happy, and will allow you to get comfortable with the background of the story once it truly starts. Oh yeah, because, this is really just the beginning.

Darkness fed on any form of light it could find as the clothed form descended even further into the cave, its steps so light it almost hovered over the muddy ground. Its respiration consisted of quick ragged breaths as if a weight crushed down its windpipe. Turning a corner, it erupted into a candlelit portion of the cave where the roof stood higher than anywhere else, a few feet above its head. Along the tall wall of the circular room stood five feet tall solid steel candleholders, heavy velvet tapestries covering the rock. In the middle of the room, over a roaring fire, a cauldron hung, its content boiling. From behind the fumes, two red eyes darted up to meet those that shone under the hood of the silhouette as it crept into the cave. �Master, I have interesting news.�

A few knocks on the door was all Harry needed to be pulled out from sleep, and he opened his eyes, reaching out to get his glasses from the night stand. Hermione protested with a soft groan as he lifted her off his chest and softly laid her down on the bed. As he looked down at her, he felt an incredible sense of calm wash over him, but it was only momentary. In a matter of seconds, the familiar pain rushed back him, stealing his breath away.

Turning away from Hermione, he bent over and grabbed his pants from the floor, slipping them on before heading for the door. Taking a hold of the knob, he hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was a good idea to answer Hermione�s door in the middle of the night. After a short pause, which was followed by a new set of knocks, he finally opened it, making sure not to open the door completely so that whomever was on the other side wouldn�t get a good view of Hermione laying in bed. He prayed to Merlin he wouldn�t find a teacher or any faculty member standing on the other side. But what he did find was even more shocking. On the other side of the door stood a very much surprised Ron, surprised but not angry. �Ron�what are you doing here?�

The thin line of his mouth slowly curled into a shy smile, a smile Harry had not seen in a very long time. Yet it seemed different somehow. Somehow, Ron seemed older. �Hello Harry. You never showed up last night, so�Well, I came to this conclusion. Looks like I was right. Can I come in?�

Harry frowned, then threw a quick glance over his shoulder. Hermione had rolled onto her stomach and was sleeping peacefully, her hair tousled like it had been the first day they had all met. �Erm, no. Let me just��

�Get dressed?�

�Yeah,� Harry approved, turning back towards his best friend. He didn�t feel so good about leaving Hermione alone, but he could not help but wonder why Ron had come to him. He still wore the painful reminders of his last encounter with the redhead on his face, but there was an obvious shift in Ron�s attitude, one he wasn�t sure how to feel about. �Be a minute,� he finished before closing the door.

He couldn�t think straight as he picked up his clothes from the floor one by one. From time to time, he would look up to her and pause, almost in a daze. She was beautiful, laying amidst white sheets, her fair skin looking like porcelain. At once, after putting on his shirt, he made his way to the bed and laid down next to her again, his fingers kindly brushing against the soft skin of her back. She wrinkled her nose and emitted a soft groan before her eyes flickered open. For a moment, she seemed surprised to find him there, then her expression shifted as a pleased smile appeared on her face. �Hey�

Her voice was weary, as if she was still being pulled back into sleep. He smiled, caressing her hair, before he bent down and kissed the top of her head. As he came in proximity to her, she hooked her fingers into his shirt as if to make sure he wouldn�t fade away. Pulling back slightly he looked into her eyes, fully taking in what they had done only a few hours before. It was night now and there was nothing he wanted more than to sleep next to her. Somehow, she made all the pain fade away, she made the unbearable weight that was crushing his chest subside. And he loved her now more than ever. But Ron was waiting for him and he owed it to his best friend to discuss with him whatever it was he wanted to discuss. �Ron is here, he says he wants to talk to me.�

At the mention of their mutual friend�s name, she noticeably stiffened, and he shook his head softly, explaining with a soft voice that he seemed better. With a long sigh, she rolled onto her back, bringing the covers up to cover her nudity as she sat, and her amber eyes met with his green ones. �Tell him that if he hurts you again, I will make sure he�ll never be able to procreate. Ever.�

He offered her comment a soft giggle before bending down and claiming her lips. She tasted like honey and once again, he was tempted to pull her into his arms and stay with her. However, he pulled back, raised one hand and caressed her cheek before standing up, the mattress shifting as it no longer had to accommodate to his weight, with the promise to come back.

A fresh coat of snow covered the Hogwarts grounds, rendering even the oldest students to the state of gleeful kids as they all partook in snow fights or made snow angels, each and everyone of them taking advantage of their first snowy week end of the year. Amidst them, a redhead and a brunette laughed as they sat on one of the rocks nearby the lake, pointing at a bunch of boys that were well involved into a snow balls war. A rather large ball flew the short distance between the two forts and landed right in the middle of Ron�s chest, throwing him aback but not onto the ground. Harry�s laugh resonated as Ron�s cheeks flushed with red out of shame from being unable to duck in time, and the redhead kicked his friend lightly before bending down behind the snow palisade with him.

�See, now I�m not so sure the whole Slytherin versus Gryffindor thing was a grand idea. They�re bloody cheaters!� he complained, peeking through a small opening in the wall through which they could see the other side�s fort. A bunch of Slytherins, obviously excluding Malfoy, had accepted Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville�s challenge, although both Harry and Ron would have preferred being opposed to Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs. But no one wanted to play with the Slytherins, as they ignored the meaning of �fair play� and when they had finally been ready to play, only them were left to be challenged.

Still waiting for a reaction, Ron turned to Harry and found him looking right from the Slytherin fort, at the two girls that sat laughing at their pitiful attempts to counterattack the treachery of their adversaries. Rolling his eyes, he poked Harry�s side. �Invited her to the Yule Ball yet?�

His words seemed to pull Harry out of his reverie and Ron stared as his best friend shook his head slightly as if to put his ideas back into place, then eyed him oddly. He had put a charm on his glasses to ensure that they wouldn�t get fogged and a few locks of ebony hair were escaping from the edge of his hat. In the cold winter air, he still could look like a kid with his cheeks red from the cold, but one look into his eyes, and you were faced with an old soul. �Oh bloody hell Harry, do you think I�m that much of a git that I wouldn�t see it? You�re madly in love with her.�

Truly, how could Harry think he hadn�t noticed? They had been best friends almost since the moment they had met, they had gone through so much together. They almost knew each other inside out, so how could Harry think he had been fooled even for one moment? The last year had been especially hard on Harry, leaving him wounded and in bed at St.Mungo�s throughout the summer after a particularly traumatizing face-off with Voldemort. Hermione had been shattered, staying by his side basically day and night, reading to him and often falling asleep while sitting in a chair by his side, her head resting atop her arms on his bed. Ron had made it out of the fight with a broken arm and a few trophy scars, but that one day he had walked into Harry�s private hospital room, he had gotten a broken heart. Hermione was resting, partially on the chair, partially on Harry�s bed, and Harry lay awake, brushing his fingers through her hair gently and simply looking at her peaceful face with pure adoration.

He had known for a long time that his crush on Hermione was a silly thing, even before he�d admitted it to her during their sixth year. She had said she was flattered and that she cherished him beyond words, but that she simply didn�t feel for him what he felt for her. He hadn�t insisted, he hadn�t pleaded. He had simply nodded and, of course, told everything to Harry the next day. It had taken him a great deal of courage to do so, but he felt that he simply couldn�t hide this fact from his best friend, especially if there were to be any awkwardness between him and Hermione.

On that day, Ron simply walked out without notifying Harry of his visit and on the way back home, had kept his fist clutched so hard his knuckles had turned white. He had waited for Harry to break up with Cho, whom he had been dating for a few months by then but was obviously not in love with, or even simply to mention it to him. The break up came quickly, as soon as Harry and Cho had seen each other on the train. He had pulled her away from everyone, and minutes later, she rushed past them in tears. But Harry had never acted upon his unspoken feelings for Hermione. And although it troubled him at first, Ron now knew exactly why. Because of him.

Although he was still amazingly fond of Hermione and probably always would be, he had now accepted that she didn�t feel for him like he had once felt for her and had moved on. And he would be damned if he was the only thing stepping in the way of Harry being truly happy for once.

�Harry, I�m not blind. And I�m not an idiot either. I know my goofy charm is by times disarming,� he joked, while collecting a bit of snow and slowly forming a large ball in his hands �but I�m no fool. I�ve known for a while now, and I appreciate that you held back out of consideration for me. But mate, you don�t have to. I�m ok with this. Better even, I�m happy with this. You two deserve each other, you deserve some happiness Harry.�

Finishing the ball, he threw his arm back while jumping onto his feet and threw the little pack of snow with all his strength towards the Slytherins. One of them received it right in the face as he peeked above the icy wall they used as protection and Ron laughed gleefully, happy to have gotten his revenge. �I bet he doesn�t sing Weasley-is-our-king now.�

Harry only snorted to that, but he still looked at his friend as though the redhead had just opened a world of possibilities to him. �You better fix that jaw, it seems like it might have a bit of a tendency to fall off,� Ron began before throwing a handful of snow at Harry. �Come on, you fool. Go and ask her before someone else does. Someone else always does.�

With that, he pulled onto Harry�s arm and shoved him away from the protection of the fort, pointing his wand at him and casting a protection spell around him to ensure that he wouldn�t fall victim to a rain of snowballs. Harry threw a glance over his shoulder in his direction and Ron mouthed words of encouragement. He watched as Hermione�s face lit as she saw Harry, watched as Ginny left the two of them alone and joined him to help in the snow fight. She offered him a playful grin and shoved some snow his way, obstructing his vision for a few seconds. What he missed was a surprised Hermione stuttering a yes to Harry�s question and an equally nervous Harry taking a few steps back as he starred and nodded at Hermione before bumping into a small rock and falling over into the snow. Ginny giggled at the sight and his laughter joined hers as they forgot all about the snow fight and simply took pleasure in watching their dear friend be happy for once.

The two of them walked side by side, Harry throwing uneasy glances at Ron while chewing lightly on his lower lip. He was aware he�d picked that habit from Hermione, and right now, it offered some kind of comfort. She was away, but not really. Finally, as they reached the lake, Ron sat on top of a large rock and looked back at him.

�Sorry for�well, your face,� the redhead began, shifting uneasily on his cold seat as he laid eyes on his face. In the moonlight, Harry was even paler than he usually was, and now, the contrast with his ebony hair was almost eerie. Harry grunted a response, kicking the ground as he lowered his head. He still felt an immense guilt whenever he was around Ron, and he felt that situation wouldn�t change anytime soon.

�I�McGonagall took me to see Dumbledore after what happened and we sat in silence for a long time before I sort of��

Ron stopped, wondering if he truly was going to admit that he had broken down into uncontrolled sobs for a good hour before he had finally been able to talk with Dumbledore. He had cried when he had been told his sister was dead, and he had held his mother against him at the funeral, but he hadn�t cried then. He had stared at the coffin as it had been lowered into the ground, forever holding the body of the person he cherished more than anything. It had taken physically hurting his best friend for his defensive walls to fall and let the flow of tears that were tearing him apart internally to the surface. Deciding not to, he diverted his sentence. �Before I sort of talked. Not very coherent, royally pissed off. Dumbledore just starred at me for a long time then took out the Pensieve. You know, that thing you told me about?�

Harry nodded, remembering his experiences with the pensieve, first exploring Dumbledore�s memories, then Snape�s, which had offered him more than he could ever hope for: a glimpse of his parents in their youth. Satisfied with Harry�s motion, Ron explained how Dumbledore had set the pensieve in front of him and told him that he had been awaiting for something like this to happen, causing a snort from Harry. As much as he admired Dumbledore, he had grown accustomed to his ways, and knew that while he usually had a good notion of what was to happen, he mostly waited for the events to unfold before he took action, making sure everyone learned their lesson in the process. It was a patented method of teaching, but it was also a painful one. Harry couldn�t count the times such actions had caused him or someone else physical and psychological harm. �And he left me alone in his office, with the thing. I had no idea what to do, so I stuck my finger in it like you said you�d done, and I got sucked into the sodden thing.�

Furrowing his brow, Harry looked into his friend�s face and he blinked as he saw a shift in it. Ron�s eyes grew darker as he clenched his jaw so hard it Harry thought the pressure could crush the redhead�s teeth. �And then I found myself back into that bloody chamber, as the Order rushed about, along with Dumbledore. I saw myself, unconscious, next to Hermione, and then I saw you�and her.�

It was only when Ron�s voice broke as he pronounced the last word that Harry understood what he had meant. Dumbledore had not picked some random memory of their friendship to bring them closer, he had picked the moment that had brought them apart in the first place, one of the � if not the � most sinister moments in Harry�s life. And he saw her again, her pale face, whispering his name with great difficulty as if it took all of her remaining strength to do so. He had never been aware of how precious a friend she was to him until that moment, of how much she meant. He wasn�t in love with Ginny, that much was clear, but he did love her, just as much as he loved Ron. She was a piece of him, and she had been taken away. A piece of himself had died in that chamber, when her life had slipped through his fingers. The steel was meant for him, not for her. Never for her. Yet it had taken her.

�I heard her voice before I even saw her. There was so much pain, so much sadness in her voice. I bent beside you and I looked into her face as she died, and I saw you cling to her, and refuse to let go, even though they eventually brought you apart. I don�t think you remember that though� You were starring into nothingness Harry. As if�as if a part of you died.�

Harry looked up in surprise as his friend used the words he�d just considered moments before and his eyes met Ron�s. They both held their stare for a long time, before Ron spoke again. �I�m not saying I�m not angry at you anymore, I think I�m pretty much angry at the world right now, but the blame�The blame is gone. I watched into her face Harry, and she did not blame you, not for one second. I can�t spit on her memory and blame you Harry. I truly am sorry for hitting you, and I feel horrible for saying those things to you.�

They both stared at each other in silence before Ron stood up and stepped towards Harry. �Tell Hermione I�m also sorry for the nasty things I said to her, she was nothing but kind and��

�Why don�t you tell her yourself?� Harry asked, his tone slightly reproachful. Ron nodded slowly, as if he had been expecting this, and let out a long sigh. He shifted from feet to feet uncomfortably for a few seconds before looking back at his best friend.

�I can�t. I�m leaving Hogwarts.�

Author's Note: Ok, so for some reason this part got held back. I had to rewrite around a bit because I wasn't satisfied with it, but Ron's reason for leaving was left untouched because it was planned from the beginning. Apparently, it got a lot of attention, so I tried to leave you without a cliffhanger (but still a bit of something to hold onto) this time around.
This part is a bit depressing, people leaving, people crying, people sneaking behind other people's back. But the next part is a bit more fluffy, and this time, I actually kind of mean it. There will be laughter, that, I promise, and it won't be only in flashbacks.*whispers*hold on to the fluffy stuff cause you'll need it*whispers*. This story *is* designed as drama/romance/adventure (well, the adventure is still ahead, but there will be adventure). The characters and the situation are set now.

A long white sheet wrapped around herself and her hair held on top of her head in a loose bun from which a few strands of unruly bushy hair escaped, Hermione sat at the window in her room. Her legs were brought up against her chest and her forehead rested against the glass as she peered down. She sighed, covering the window with fog as her warm breath came in contact with the cold glass, clouding the scene she was observing for a short moment. Rubbing her hand against the glass, she cleaned it and narrowed her eyes as she looked down at Harry and Ron. The two stood facing each other, but there had been no sign of argument between the two, nor any sign of violence from Ron�s part. Shaking her head, she turned from the window and gave her room a circular glance. The clothes she had worn the day before laid on the floor, and she blushed at the thought of how they�d ended there. She had truly been surprised by the turn their relationship had taken, right back when she�d started to feel for him and she never expected this when he had come to her door. He certainly didn�t expect it either.

Standing up, she started picking up her clothes and threw them in the basket she kept by her wardrobe, then slipped on a nightgown before laying back down onto her bed. She was unable to stop the flow of tears once they started. She wasn�t exactly why she was crying, it was as though everything she had gone through in the last few weeks all came rushing to the surface. As if sleeping with Harry had brought her back to life and now that she was alive again, every emotion she had been feeling since Ginny�s death scorched her even more harshly.

Four young wizards trailed down the Hogwarts grounds, the two girls chatting cheerful in the front, discussing their dresses for the upcoming Yule Ball. Neither of them had been invited yet, but there was no worry on either part. All that was on their mind at the moment was the exhilaration of fine dresses and waltz, as if they lived a century before their time. Behind them, the two boys shared jokes as the four of them walked down to the lake, where they regularly went to study. They had come to think of it as their spot, where they could be found pretty much everyday when the weather allowed it. It was beneath a tall tree, with many large rocks where they could all sit. They had yet to receive their first snowfall, but the weather was definitely getting colder and soon, they would have to relinquish their spot for the winter, which was why they took advantage of every occasion they had to visit it.

�I can�t believe this is our last year. I feel like I have so much more to learn!� Hermione exclaimed as she dropped her pack and sat down on the nearest rock, Ginny taking a seat in front of her. Harry settled down next to Hermione, untying his tie but keeping his robes on, unlike Ron, who dropped them into a pile on top of his backpack as he sat down next to his sister. Ginny gave Hermione�s remark a soft chuckle and shared a knowing glance with her brother. Hermione�s quench for knowledge was by time greatly amusing. Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron and turned to Hermione. �I know what you mean�

Hermione sighed and opened the book she had on her lap, quickly finding the page she was at and leaving the others to chat as she resumed her reading. The others had pulled her away from her room, insisting on the fact that this was probably the last day before it got too cold for them to spend time outside, an excuse they had used ever since the beginning of the month. Apparently, every day was probably the last day. Ginny rolled her eyes at her friend and turned her face up, closing her eyes under the caress of the sun as the light washed over her face, which made Harry smile. He�d never seen anyone enjoy life as much as she did. When Ginny finally lowered her head, she had a warm smile on her face. �Beautiful day�

�But while we�re on the subject of leaving Hogwarts... Do any of you have any idea of what you�ll do next year?� she continued, looking at Harry and her brother. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Hermione throwing a glance over the edge of her book. Ginny knew all about Hermione�s plan, graduate school, and probably a high ranked job at the Ministry, but Harry�s future was foggier. Everyone knew he was interested into becoming an Auror, but they had also noticed he had not been taking the required classes.

�Dumbledore said�� Harry began hesitantly, causing Hermione to completely lose interest in her book. Harry�s future was not a subject that was raised often, mostly because of the menace that constantly rested upon it and any allusion to it was therefore far more interesting than any book Hermione could ever come across. �He mentioned something about working here. As the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.�

Every looked shocked, except Hermione, who gasped and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. �Oh Harry, this is wonderful!�

Harry welcomed the hug with a noticeable blush, causing a soft giggle from Ginny, while Ron still seemed confused by the revelation. Hermione�s enthusiasm was short lived and she pulled back, her nose wrinkled as she looked at him. �But�you�re so young Harry, and � the credentials. Are you sure that�s what you want to do?�

The boy nodded slowly, remaining silent for a moment before allowing himself to speak. �He said I�ll have to take a year off before to get myself acquainted with different types of creature and menace, but there�s the obvious factor that I�ve been fighting evil since I was one year old and the DA.� At the mention of the defence against the dark arts group he glanced at Hermione, a flicker of reconnaissance in his eyes. She had been the one that had truly pushed him down this path he had been hesitant to follow, and as always, she had proved to be right.

�Well, while the two of you are off to great futures, I�m probably headed for a low rated job at the Ministry where I�ll work 72 hours a week and get half the pay you�ll get, Mione.� Ron interrupted, with a serious expression on his face that caused them all to stare at him, unable to decipher whether he was making a humorous crack or truly mopping about his future. After a while, he rolled his eyes and sat back. �Bloody hell guys, lighten up. I�m headed for Quidditch tryouts or Gringotts, something of the likes.�

�Honestly Ron, it�s not funny. Your future is nothing to make jokes about.� Hermione scolded, setting her book down by her bag, finally giving in. She would have to find some other time to do her reading. The redhead shrugged before poking his sister�s side. She squirmed and slapped his hand away with a small nasal sound of annoyance. �What about you Ginny? Any grand plans for your future?�

Ginny seemed thoughtful for a moment, then she smiled. Looking at Hermione, she asked her if she remembered a conversation they�d had a few weeks before, where they had discussed how they pictured themselves, ten years from now. The brunette nodded and Ginny explained for the benefit of the two boys. �I want to go to graduate school and work in the trauma yard at St.Mungo�s. I�ve always been good at medicinal charms and� I want to help people. There�s a war coming, and I know that�s the only way I can truly make myself useful.�

�That�s great Ginny!� Ron exclaimed, amazed by his little sister�s plans. He couldn�t imagine anything better for her. Looking back at his two best friends only elongated the smile that already brightened up his face. They all looked contempt, happy to be here, happy with their plans. And happy with each other. �All these fancy talks about what�s ahead� I don�t know about you, but I�m in no hurry to leave here. I could stay at Hogwarts for the rest of my life.�

�You�re leaving? You can�t possibly be leaving?!�

Ron nodded slowly, then sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit. Harry blinked a few times, as if this was just a dream and he would eventually wake up. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had heard wrong, he knew that Ron had truly said he was leaving the school. �Ron, no. You can�t.�

�I�m sorry Harry. Mum needs me back home, she�s not been copping well, and she worries for me, stranded here away from the family. And I need to be away from here right now, need to be away from you and Hermione. It�s simply too hard. It�s only temporary, I won�t be gone for long, a few weeks, but I have no other choice.� Ron said, turning away from his friend to face the lake. It was only as he followed his stare that Harry realized it was snowing. The contrast of the white flakes against the dark water was fascinating, and for a moment, they both watched in silence. But while Ron was reflecting on what he was leaving behind, Harry was trying to control his emotions. He felt anger, an anger that was overcome by so much pain that it left him speechless. He felt as though something was crushing his wind pipe and rendering him unable to breathe. No�it was worse than that. Another part of himself had been torn away.

�Are you quite finished?� Hermione whined, throwing an annoyed glance at Ron as he broke down into a new fit of giggles, Ginny and Harry joining in with him. The four of them were sitting at The Leaky Cauldron, drinking butterbeer and waiting for Arthur and Molly to return from some last minute shopping on Diagon Alley before they were to head out to King�s Cross. In a few hours, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would start their final year at Hogwarts. The fourth member of the group, Ginny Weasley, was beginning her sixth year. For the past half an hour, Ron had been detailing the week the Grangers had spent at 12 Grimmauld Place while Harry was still recovering at the hospital. Hermione�s muggle parents had been amazed by every small detail, even though it hadn�t been their first time in the wizard world. Her mother had been especially ecstatic at the sight of the dishes washing themselves.

�She screamed so loud when she saw the cloth drying the plate that the charm faltered. I don�t know how she did it, but she did, and the plate crashed unto the ground, setting off Mrs.Black�s portrait. The old hag started on the dirty muggle that was destroying her precious china.� Ron continued, despite Hermione�s protests. Harry couldn�t resist the humour of the situation and he laughed too, enjoying a few carefree moments with his friends after a tough summer. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the three of them successively, then returned to petting the orange cat that had curled onto her lap, a smile crawling onto her face as she came up with the perfect comeback. �And then your father proceeded to question mine about � electericty� for about two hours. Ah, yes, I remember that day now.�

Ron and Ginny stopped laughing and blushed, simultaneously drinking some butterbeer as if to divert attention, causing both Harry and Hermione to laugh, the lather rather pleased with herself. Ron glared at Hermione, then shoved his elbow in Harry�s ribs, causing the teenager to suck his breath and wrap his free arm around his midsection with a loud groan.

�Harry!� Hermione exclaimed, jumping to her feet and bending over the table to care for Harry. Ron blushed furiously and set his drink down, turning to his friend and setting one hand on top of his shoulder. They had all been careful around him ever since he�d returned from St.Mungo�s, making sure not to put him under any kind of physical stress, but the hit he had given the Harry had been instinctive, and probably the first thing to put real stress over his best friend�s body since the fight against Voldemort. Harry had almost died, probably had for a few seconds, and Voldemort was still running.

�I�m sorry Harry, I didn�t think. I��

And then, suddenly, he saw it. The birth of a grin on the corner of Harry�s lips, as the two girls still tended to him, making sure he wasn�t broken in any way, which of course he wasn�t. Chuckling, he pushed Harry over, causing him to burst out laughing once again Ginny and Hermione sighed in annoyance and returned to their seats with a number of eye rolls and pouts, while the two friends laughed until they had cramps, and then laughed some more.

Harry pushed opened the door leading into Hermione�s room only to find her sleeping, her face buried in the pillows. Shrugging off his robes, he slowly made his way towards the bed, noticing along the way that she had picked up the discarded clothes that covered the ground when he had first left. It was still dark outside and the moonlight cast a silvery light on her small figure as she lay in bed, causing him to pause as he reached the bed. Everything that had happened the night before was still a bit too much for him to comprehend, and he wasn�t sure he actually wanted to analyze and rationalize everything. He had known he was in love with Hermione ever since the eve of the big fight at the end of their sixth year, when she had sit with him throughout the night because he was too nervous to sleep and she didn�t want him to be alone. They had talked sitting in the common room by the fire, but they had sat in silence also. She had never tried to force him to talk about his insecurities, even though she knew perfectly well they were the reason he hadn�t eaten anything in the previous week. It was the first time that he was going to seek out Voldemort, and he knew this quite possibly could be his last night. Instead, she had simply sat on the opposite sofa, her face turned towards the fire. She held up a calm fa�ade, but he knew the anxiety was killing her also. And as he admired her face in the orange light the flames cast upon it, he had known. He loved her.

He pulled the covers and slid underneath them beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist. Her response to the new pressure around her midsection was a soft moan before she unconsciously repositioned herself on her side, her back against his chest. He leaned his head in the hollow of her shoulder, trying to forget that up in the Gryffindor tower, Ron was packing up his things, a carriage waiting for him downstairs. He felt as though his world was being shattered in an excruciating piece by piece fashion. His best friend leaving his side, even though their relationship had been the opposite of what it used to be in the previous weeks, was like salt on an open wound. He knew Ron�s reasons for leaving were perfectly understandable, yet he couldn�t help but resent him for choosing the easy way out. And he also knew his friend deserved the easy way out after fighting by his side for so many years and losing the sister he loved so dearly, but all the knowledge and understanding in the world never eased the pain. Its bite was still as vicious as it always was.

After a moment, it seemed that his presence had pulled Hermione from her deep slumber as she rotated in his arm to face him, her eyes scanning his own in the darkness. �Hey� she whispered, reaching up to lightly brush her fingers against his cheek. He smiled, even though he was fairly certain she couldn�t see it in the darkness, because he knew she would feel it, the skin moving under her finger tips. �What did Ron want to talk about?�

He held his breath, unsure what to tell her. He knew that once he would have told her Ron was leaving, this moment of perfect peace they were sharing would be taken away from them. And he needed it to hold just one second more, to take it in and make it his sanctuary. Finally, he spoke, reaching up to cover her palm with his. �He�s leaving. For a time.�

It took awhile before she offered some sort of reaction to his announcement, and he swallowed nervously, tightening his arm around her waist to bring her closer in preparation for the tears. He had learned in the previous two weeks that all the logic in the world weren�t enough even for Hermione. She didn�t ask why, nor argue their friend�s decision, because being Hermione she knew this was the right decision, the logical choice. But the tears still came, because even though she knew the choice was right, it still hurt.

She wasn�t exactly sure why she cried. Only an hour before, she had threatened Ron with bodily harm, and she had wished for him to leave more times than she could count in the past two weeks. But the saying was most definitely true, she decided. Be careful what you wish for. And in Harry�s arms, her head buried in his shoulder, she swore herself she would never shed one tear again. She was too tired for it, tired of talking, tired of trying.

Out in the corridor, Draco Malfoy walked out of the shadow that had concealed him from sight. A smirk on his face, he had watched Harry and Ron first walk out of the room, had followed them and listened in, then had tracked Harry back in. As Head boy, he could have pulled points from both of them for being out after curfew, the satisfaction of punishing Gryffindor and pulling ranks on Harry after he had hit him adding up to a considerably satisfactory amount. He still sport the bruise the punch had left on his face, as he suspected he would for a couple of weeks. But he had another plan in mind. One that would solve the case of that Potter brat for good.

Trotting down towards the Owlery, he shoved his hand in his pocket to retrieve a piece of parchment and a quill, formulating the message in his mind. After his father�s downfall at the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts, his dislike for Harry Potter had turned into a murderous hatred, and he had taken after his father, becoming a Death Eater even unbeknownst to his mother. He had had his role to play into leaking information that had led Harry to Voldemort, the previous year, just as his Master had commanded, but now, he was to provide him with even more information. This would be the second message he was to send to his Master in the last five hours. One to tell him of the new development in Harry�s life and the second would inform him that Ron was leaving Hogwarts, leaving Harry somewhat unprotected. After the first message, he had been instructed by a short reply written in Wormtail�s shaky handwriting to keep on following Harry. And he would, as he would keep on obeying orders even though the sheer idea of doing what someone dictated was disgusting to him. He would until Potter died and he could spit on the bastard�s body.

Author's Note: I love Fauxcon Draco. He rocks, wears leather trousers and loves Ginny. But this is Canon Draco and I do believe Canon Draco could do something like that, the sneaky snake job, because it doesn't put him in front of any real danger, which always causes him to coward under Snape's robes. Heh, pretend I never said that.
Update should come soon, maybe as soon as tomorrow night. Also? I'm giving a cookie to the first one that finds the pattern in my flasbacks.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long time between updates guys, I was sort of busy with work and then I had to bring in my laptop for repair, so obviously, less computer time there. Anyway, a cookie for Doodles Divine at Fanfiction.net who guessed what the partern of the flashback. I've been rewinding them, from the first flashback, Ginny's death, to...up to where, that you'll have to see. This part is fluffly and sweet, with still a bit of drama because...well, because I'm me. And it's also short, but the next part will be quite long (like...three parts long, almost) so take this one as an appetizer.

Oh, and of course, I'm using "jumper" in the "sweater" sense.

�Harry?� a small voice tried, uncertain, causing the boy to rotate in his bed to face whomever had just spoken. Her small frame seemed to float in the large jumper she wore, and her face was pale from the long � although shorter than his - recovery she had just gone through. Thick brown hair framed her face, far less bushy than it had been when she was younger, but that still made her stand out from everyone. He loved her hair.

�Hermione�hey. Come here.� he replied, a warm smile on his face as he motioned with his hand to encourage her towards the chair that sat next to his bed. She obliged, smiling shyly and reached out for his hand once she was seated. She wasn�t sure what to say, so she opted for silence, looking at him in the eyes and finding herself getting lost in them. He was the first to speak, squeezing the hand that held his. �It�s the bruises, they make me look like a freak.�

She chuckled, although all she wanted to do was cry. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she smiled nonetheless. �Don�t make jokes about that Harry. I� We almost lost you.�

And it was true, they definitely had almost lost him. Hermione even believed he had been clinically dead for a few seconds, from the way his limp body had rocked in Hagrid�s arms as he�d carried him away, his head rolling against the half-giant�s shoulder in a way that had rendered her unable to breathe or think.

She had been stunned at least twice during the fight, every time standing back up thanks to the rough training Harry had subjected Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna and her to in prevision for the major battle that always seemed to catch up with them at the end of every year. At some point, she had lost sight of the others, trapped in a fog that was both physical and psychological. Screams clouded everything around her, even the cries of her friends, and the wall of mist blurred her vision. When it had cleared, she was facing the sky, on her back in the middle of stunned and dead Death Eaters. Her head was killing her, and she could feel something warm on her forehead, blood seeping from a large cut. She tried to push herself up, but fell back every time. Finally, she heard them, the cries of the Order as they rushed through the Forbidden Forest, where Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna had fallen into the trap Voldemort had set for them. She tried to call out, but nothing came out, and she tried to push herself up once more, making it to her knees before falling face down on the ground. Lifting her face from the dirt, she had seen Hagrid rush past her with Harry�s unconscious body in his arms, calling out for Dumbledore. She had gathered all of her remaining strenght, stumbled to her feet and had made her way towards Hagrid, leaning against whatever she could find � a rock, a tree � for support. Her wrist had been broken in a hand to hand fight against a Death Eater, so she held it against her chest, biting her lips so hard to make herself forget about the pain that the copper taste of blood soon filled her mouth. Hagrid was walking ahead of her, away from her in long strides and she remembered trying to call out for him to stop, to wait for her, before everything turned black and she fell into waiting arms. She had later learned that while she thought she had walked several meters, she had only made a few steps before fainting in Tonks� arms.

Harry shook his head and pulled onto her hand until she was forced to stand and bend over his bed. He cupped her face with his free hand and smiled softly. �Don�t cry, I�m ok, we�re all ok.�

And it was true, they were all ok, alive and somewhat well.

Hermione woke up with a smile on her face, the comforting warmth of Harry�s body surrounding hers and making her forget all about the harsh reality that was hers. She opened her eyes to find he was already awake, looking at her. He mirrored her smile, caressing the small of her back, where his hand rested, then closed his eyes again, lowering his head so that it almost touched her chest. She laughed and combed his unruly hair with her fingers, thankful that after everything he�d been through, he could still act like a goofy kid.

�It�s a Hogsmeade weekend.� she began, after a few minutes. She knew he wasn�t asleep, from the way his arm still held onto her waist tightly, and he groaned at the insinuation she made, knowing what she would say next. �We need to get up.�

His response was to pull her closer, causing her to break into a fit of laughter, as he tickled her stomach. She pushed him away, trying to escape in vain. His arms were wrapped around her waist and even as she tried to free herself, he held on tight, then suddenly pulled her on top of him as he turned onto his back. �The hell with Hogsmeade. I say we stay here.�

Pushing against his chest to give herself enough distance to look at him, she pondered his suggestion. It was definitely tempting, staying here with him, in his arms, but she couldn�t help thinking that as long as they stayed in her room, all they lived was lie. Once they would walk out and let the real world back in, the mist would clear and they would realize it was only a dream. �Let�s make a compromise. We get up and go to Hogsmeade, but we leave early and come back here.�

He frowned, obviously considering her suggestion, then lifted his head up and kissed her, catching her by surprise. As they kissed, they rolled over once more, now in the opposite position, with him laying on top of her, and as they parted, Hermione found she was breathless. �Agreed. But we still have some time left.�

Harry and Hermione chased after the group as it walked down the road leading to Hogsmeade. Hermione�s long coat was floating all around her, untied, as she held tight onto Harry�s hand. He was literally pulling her, much faster than she could even hope to be, and she felt that if she didn�t stop soon, her legs would refuse to ever stop their incessant motion. �Harry, please! I�m cold!� she pleaded, freeing her hand and stopping, immediately bending over as she tried to catch her breath. Harry stopped when he felt her let go of his hand, and he turned around, also panting, but he was obviously in a better shape than she was. He watched as she stood back straight and did the buttons of her coat. �That�s better�

He grinned, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the group, then turned back to her, taking advantage of the fact that she was looking down at herself to circle her and wrap his arms around her waist. She squealed as he spun her around, before dropping her in the snow, falling to her side.

�Harry!� she protested, trying to stand back up only to have him pull her back down on top of him. The black wool coat her mother had offered her for Christmas was covered in snow and even as he still held her, she tried to brush the snow away with her bare hands, trying to ignore the cold. And then suddenly she realized it. Harry was laughing. Harry was happy. For the first time since Ginny�s death, Harry seemed genuinely happy. And she was too. She stopped and placed both hands on each side of his face, pulling him for a kiss. His shock prevented him from responding at first, but he eventually kissed her back, his eyes scanning her face for an explanation once they parted.

�What was that for?� he finally asked, concerned with the look on her face. She looked distressed, her lips pinched, and her hands still pressed on both sides of his face. Her voice was weak when she finally spoke.

�Promise me you won�t ever go away. I don�t think I could bare it, losing you, especially after all we�ve gone through. I love you so much Harry.�

The words came out of his mouth without the need for thoughts. He promised, again and again, marking his words with a rain of kisses. Only when they began shaking from the cold did they stand up from the snow, running down the rest of the road leading to Hogsmeade.

�Harry! Ron!� a voice screamed over the chaos of painful cries. Scanning the fog with uncertainty, Hermione did her best not to stumble on the uneven ground of the forest. She suspected the mists were magical, but the fear and pain that clouded her judgement left her unable to come up with an efficient counter spell.

A hand suddenly covered her mouth from behind and before she could react, she was pulled behind a tree by a strong arm wrapped around her stomach. Screaming against the palm, she kicked the air in a fruitless attempt to free herself.

�Shh, Mione, it�s me!� a voice whispered in her ear before she was freed. She immediately turned around to face who was standing behind her and she sighed with relief when she saw Harry, feeling a bit of tension leave her body. He looked at her worriedly, reaching out to touch the large scrape on her cheek. �Are you ok? I heard you screaming�� �Cuts and bruises, stunned a few times, nothing bad. I�m fine. Quite frankly it was you and the others I was worried about.�

�I�ve seen Ginny and Luna, they�re doing fine�� he began, before taking a long pause and looking at her straight in the eyes. She was about to ask what was wrong when she saw his shoulders sag and he looked away. �I just felt right into it didn�t I? One hint that Voldemort might be here and I just went for it, like I�m still a foolish child. Worse of all, I brought you all into this..�

She shook her head, then took his chin in her hand and lifted his head until their eyes met. �We all fell into it Harry, we�re all to blame. It�s not your fault.�

He shook his head sadly, then gave her a long look before pulling her into a warm hug. She was a bit caught by surprise, but she hugged him back. As they parted, he bent to leave a kiss on her forehead, before whispering as he left her. �Goodbye Hermione�

He was gone before she could analyze what he had said, fading in the fog like the mists had swallowed him whole. She felt her throat contract, leaving her unable to breathe, as the thought that this was the last time she was ever to see him crossed her mind. And it was then that she realized she loved him.

Author's note: Please don't kill me for the delay, at least I didn't abandon this story. Next part is coming up tonight.

Part 6: Spiral

'Harry?'

The sudden sound startled him, and he turned his head towards its source, his eyes coming to rest upon Hermione. She was frowning, wearing a bathrobe over her pyjamas, with her hair piled up on top of her head. She seemed dazed, as if she'd just woken up, yet was staring at him with great confusion. He simply smiled softly and turned back to the fire, the soft ruffles of her silk pyjamas pants revealing she was coming to sit by him before he even saw her from the corner of his eye. She sat on the sofa that formed a rectangular angle with the one he was sitting on, both pieces of furniture disposed in such a manner that they formed a triangle with the fireplace. He could feel her eyes on him while his rested in the flames, her gaze burning more than any flame ever could. When it finally became unsubstanable, he turned to look at her.

'You should be in bed', she simply said, knowing him well enough to understand why he could not find sleep. She herself had tossed and turned until she had finally fallen asleep for an hour or so. She had woken up with her throat as dry as the desert and a terrible knot in her stomach. The sun would soon be rising on a day they had all dreaded for weeks now. She offered him a sympathetic smile when he replied that sleeping was sadly a lost cause, knowing better than to press with questions she already knew the answers to. How was he feeling? The look on his face pretty much said it all. Anticipation, fear and resolve, the last of which ripped her heart out. He was not even 17 years old, still a kid, they all were. Yet the last few years had seemed like an eternity. Looking back seven years made her feel like she was looking at someone else's peaceful, trouble-free life. Of course, Harry had never been that lucky.

Both of them turned their gaze to the fireplace and they sat in silence for a little while, Hermione feeling her eyelids become heavier by the second, until Harry suddenly spoke. Her eyes now wide open, as if to compensate for how close to shut they had been instants before, she looked at him as he spoke, leading his head back in an angle so he could look at her. 'Mione...If you could go back to when we met on the train, or when you, Ron and I became friends, knowing all that happened, the fights, the losses... Would you change it? Would you make it so that we never became friends, to spare yourself from all this?'

It took her a few seconds to fully understand what he meant. And when she finally did, she shook her head slowly while reaching out for his hand as she leaned forward. Their fingers linked and she squeezed his much larger hand tightly. He felt his heart miss a beat at the feeling of her warm skin over his, fully registering how beautiful she as the flames' orange light splashed against her features. He had noticed how rather pleasant Hemione was to look at for a few years now, but now he was floored. Maybe it was her simple presence by his side, filling a void that had kept emptying out year after year. Maybe it was because he realized that, as he was facing the prospect of death in mere hours, pushing back his emotions because this frienship was too precious to be ruined seemed a ridiculous concept.

'Never. I wouldn't change a thing. The happiness, love and joy I've gained from your friendship far outweights anything horrible that could ever happen. And whatever happens tomorrow, I know you'll always be there for me.'

***

'Harry Potter! I can't believe you!'

Hermione's outraged voice shook him up from the daze he had been in for the last few minutes, or more like the last hour he realized as he watched the rest of the students hurry out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Barely concealing a yawn behind his hand, he shoved his books in his bag and followed Hermione out of the class as she waited for them to be out of the room to continue. 'I can't believe *you* fell asleep in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Honestly, Harry... Why are you so tired, what's...'

She was cut short by the grin she saw appear on Harry face, and she blushed furiously, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. He burst out laughing, only causing her to turn scarlet and slid his arm behind her back so that it rested around her waist. They had been discreet when it came to displaying affection for one another in public, both thinking more whispers was the last thing they needed after the last few months. But as the corridor emptied out and they were only surrounded by a few Gryffindors that obviously knew about their romance, Harry turned and kissed her temple, making her smile in content. Defense Against the Dark Arts had been their last class of the week, as their last year at Hogwarts slowly but surely came to an end. A trip to Hogsmeade was planned the coming weekend and they could hardly wait to get away from Hogwarts, even for just a few hours. Having the tranquility of Hermione's room was one thing, and they had fully taken advantage of that privilege, Harry pratically moving into the room with her, but staying restricted in the same room was becoming suffocating. In addition to which it was April now and with the temperatures rising, a walk around the village was a rather inviting prospect, no matter what.

'I organised a schedule for the weeks leading up to the N.E.W.T.s. With a few hours a day, we should be able to get back on the time you lost when you obviously had other things on your mind,' Hermione started as they rounded the corner leading up to the portrait that covered the entry of Hermione's Head Girl room. Harry let out a loud groan, but immediatly realized he'd made a huge mistake. Almost fearfully, he turned to Hermione and he felt his cheeks redden when he saw the way she was glaring at him.

'Well, fine then. If you don't want my help and are pleased will failing miserably...', she began in a cold voice, disengaging herself from his arm. Before she could step away, he reached out for her hand and held her back, making her stop in mid-sentence. 'Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I can't say how much I appreciate everything you do for me, but it's an instinctive reaction of mine whenever studying is mentionned.'

He saw the anger that was flaring in her eyes only moments before slowly but surely fade away, yet she held on stubbornly. 'Yes, well... It shouldn't be. If you do plan to become a teacher, Harry, you'll have to deal with that sort of stuff for the rest of your life.'

'Well, no, I'll get to torture my students with that sort of stuff for the rest of my life. That, I can deal with', he replied, with a boyish grin. Hermione's resolve was fading, but she refrained a smile, rolling her eyes as a simple response. They began walking side by side again, linking fingers as they crossed the rest of the distance to their room. As they came to an alt in front of the painting, Harry spoke. 'Actually...I'm not sure I'll take up Dumbledore's offer on that teaching job.'

'What? Why!?', Hermione exclaimed, instantly forgetting the password she was about to say as her head snaped in Harry's direction. She found him to be staring down at his feet in an obvious attempt to escape her eyes.

'I'm not sure I'd be best qualified to guide young minds. I'm not...I've never been much of a rule follower, never really had a normal childhood. I quite love the subject, but...'

'But, what?', Hermione pushed when Harry failed to continue. Already, she could think of arguments against his choice, but she chose to allow him to finish, to fully speak his mind before she tried to argue. Finally, he looked up and met her eyes. What she saw in his eyes surprised her and rendered her speechless. It was resolve, yet there was no hint of sadness. It was not only what he thought was best for him to do but also what he wanted to do.

'I don't want to be stranded here half of the year. Hogwarts has been the only place I could ever truly call home, even the Burrow could never win it over, but as much as I love this place and feel safe within these walls... I want home to be wherever you are.'

And there. The words she had planned to say to convince him that teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts was the best thing for him had disappeard from her brain, swept away by his own. She sighed, finally smiling, then allowed him to pull her into his arms. He had won the argument. He always did.

The morning had gone rather dreadfully. They had woken up late, Harry with a headache and Hermione with an horrible nausea, yet they had decided to still head out to Hogmeade with the rest of the students, hoping that it would all pass. They had gone for a short walk around the village, entering a few shops before settling on the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer and sweet tea. Harry was feeling better now, but Hermione still seemed a bit dazed, excusing herself many times to go to the bathroom. Downing the last of her tea, she got on her feet as soon as the cup was out of her hands and excused herself once more. Harry looked after her as she went, with a frown on his face. When he lost her in the crowd, he sat back on his chair and sighed. They had studied until quite late the night before and not gotten much sleep, which probably explained why they were both feeling groggy today. He was disappointed and he knew she was too. They had planned to take a long walk, away for the worries of Hogwarts, together without having to hide from the people that didn't know. And now, they would most likely head back to the castle as soon as Hermione returned from the bathroom.

But the Hermione he saw emerge from the crowd, on her way back to their table, seemed clearly better. She seemed more alert, smiling as she sat in front of him and peered down into her cup, her smile twisting into a cute pout as she realized it was empty. Before he could comment on her new state, she got back on her feet and extended her hand towards him. He gave her a puzzled look and she sighed, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips. 'We finished our drinks, I think I'd fancy a walk now.'

'Are you alright?', Harry asked, as he got up and slipped on his cloak. The weather was surprising chilly today, and eventhough he usually could have gone without a cloak at this time of the year, it had been too cold to go out without one today. Hermione offered him a bright smile then turned away and headed out without waiting for him. His eyes slid from the back of her head, as she made her way towards the door, to the chair she had been sitting in, on the back of which her cloak was still hanging. Grabbing his girlfriend's black cloak, he went after her. She seemed ditzy and it clearly wasn't like her. Perhaps she was even more sick than she let it appear.

It was dark and cold. Those were her first impressions as she began to regain conciousness. Shifting from her uncomfortable position on her right arm to a less painfull one onto her back, she moaned as the first wave of pain hit her. She could feel something warm, obviously blood, seeping from a wound on the back of her head. But far more important, a cloth covered her mouth and the burning sensation around her wrists only revealed what her inability to move had hinted. She was bound and gagged, lying on the floor in clothes that weren't hers and itched against her skin. The floor was dusty, that much she could tell from the grainy sensation against her bare legs, but as her eyes explored the darkness she realized it was pretty much all she could say about where she was.

'Harry...', Hermione moaned against her gag, feeling the first tears of what she knew to be many slide down her face.

'Harry...'

Harry looked up towards the direction the voice came from, finding Hermione standing on top of a large rock, a few meters ahead. She raised her arms above her head and did a small ballerina spin before hopping down the rock and running in his direction to meet him. Harry barelly had time to realize what she was about to do before she jumped into his arms and projected both of them on the ground. He moaned, landing on his back with her weight on top of him, the impact draining all the air out of his lungs. His ears were ringing as he struggled to his feet, coughing and gasping for air. Once he could breathe normally again, he realized that Hermione was still on the ground, giggling like a school girl -which, in a sense, she was-, her cheeks red. There were twigs in her hair and dried leaves on her cloak, which she had finally agreed to put on after he had threatened her to just drag her back to Hogwarts if she didn't. Really, he had thought, Hermione certainly had to know better than that. Brushing leaves and twigs off of his own clothing and hair, he looked down at her, aggravated.

'Mione! It's not funny, you knocked the wind out of me...'

She sat up but kept laughing, one arm wrapped around her stomach and the other one extended towards Harry. Understanding her incentive, he reached out and pulled her up from the ground. As he did so, a strong breeze lifted up, bringing an unfamiliar smell, sickeningly sweet. Wrinkling his nose, he looked around him for the source of the scent, then returned his attention to the still giggling Hermione when he found none. She only stopped laughing when she was confronted with his hard stare. 'What's wrong with you, Hermione? All day, you've been pale and had trouble standing, and now you're acting like a bloody toddler on a sugar high.'

'I haven't got the slightest idea!.', she said, smiling even as she tried to catch her breath. With a sigh, he got to ridding her hair of the small bits of wood that had lodged in it, while she examined the landscape, completely ignoring him and apparently resolved not assist in the efforts to rid her own hair of the twigs. A mischievious grin soon spread on her lips and her eyes slid to a spot just over his shoulders, peering into the horizon. Confused, Harry turned and followed her gaze, finding that they were standing just up the small road leading to the Shrieking Shack, the overgrown garden extending through the gates almost as if it was trying to reach them, even in this cold weather. 'Let's go there!'

Harry's head snapped back to Hermione and he stared at her as though she had gone insane, which he was starting to believe she truly had. First the sudden disappearance of her nausea, the rather out of character behavior and now this? Ever since the events in their third year, Hermione had not expressed the slightest interest in going back to the Shrieking Shack and now, she was looking at it as though it was the Holy Grail, almost craving it. 'Have you gone nutters?'

A flash of anger, not hurt, passed through her eyes and she pressed her lips together. 'Fine, I'll go by myself'

As she pushed him out of the way, he caught it again. That smell, that odd scent that was seemed so out of place. It was her, it was Hermione. But it wasn't. Hermione smelled like jasmine and lavender, and this was completely different, horribly sweet, invading his nostril and making him nauseous, as if he had been forced to stay at Honeydukes for far too long. His eyes followed her as she made her way to the gate and pushed it open, allowing herself one last cold stare at him as she did so. And as she did, he felt it. A tickling sensition sliding down his scar, as if a cold finger was tracing it. It wasn't pain, he realized. It was intuition. 'Hermione!'

She turned back to him, standing in the narrow road leading up the the house, looking increasingly annoyed with him, but also nervous. 'What, now?'

How could he have been so foolish? It all added up, he realized as he made his way towards her, fear gripping at his stomach. The sudden change in her behavior, acting so childish and out of character. Dragging him out here, wanting to go to the Shrieking Shack. And her smell. This wasn't Hermione. He paused, reaching her or at least, what stood for her. He realized she had asked him a question and for a moment, he wondered if it was important at all that he answer or not. He could just shake the truth out of her. But then, what if he was wrong, what if he had just gone paranoid and this was Hermione, trying on a new perfume and simply acting a bit out of character? No. He could feel it now, with every inch of his being. This wasn't her.

Faster than she could have anticipated, his arm split the air, his fingers wrapping around her throat as his other hand reached out for his wand, which he pointed at her chest. 'Where the hell is she?'

She let out a strangled moan and her hands circled his wrist, squeezing as hard as she could in an attempt to free herself. His response was to constrict her throat furthermore. She moaned again, one of her hands leaving his wrist to claw at the front of his clothes, trying anything to allow herself to breathe. When he received no answer, his reaction was to give her a violent but brief shake. 'Harry...Stop...'

Those were the only words she could manage to get out, he realized, with the pressure he was exercising on her throat. He released her and she tobbled on the ground, her cloak billowing around her. As she landed with a cry, her hands went to her throat and she gasped loudly for air. After a few seconds, she looked up at him and he could see she looked horrified. He felt his heart miss a beat, letting uncertainty get the best of him for a short moment again. But no...He was right, he had to be.

'Where the hell is Hermione?'

His voice was aggressive and it seemed to throw her back, but the mask came on again and he was faced with a confused and scared Hermione. 'Harry, what are you talking about? I am Hermione...'

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the tears dry on her cheeks. Her eyes burned from crying but also because of all the dust. A few shivers trailed down her spine, a cold wind whistling as it passed through the cracks between the rotten wood planks that covered the windows. After her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, she had been able to see more of the place where she was held prisonner and had soon realized where she was, but that was if they had kept her in close proximity of the place where they had abducted her. She remembered feeling nauseous again and excusing herself to the bathroom. Her last memory was of hearing a noise as the door had closed behind her and seeing a brief flash of light before the floor had come crashing towards her - hard.

A sudden rattling came from outside the door and Hermione openned her eyes, starring at the door with apprehension. She had a pretty good idea of who was standing behind it and the last thing she wanted was for the door to open and prove her right. Just this once she could deal with being wrong. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest, almost covering the sound that was coming from what she assumed to be the hall. Resolved, she began to writhe on the floor, attempting to back away in the darkness the best she could. It most likely wouldn't do much good, but the momentary confusion that might follow the discovery of an empty room where she had been placed might give Harry more time. And Harry would come, he had to.

Harry bent down, pointing his wand in her face menacingly. Hermione inched away crawling backwards on the ground onto the road leading up to the Shrieking Shack. She was pale, her eyes as round as disks and her lips trembling. 'Don't lie to me. I know Hermione...and your bloody pathetic attempt is not gonna cut it.'

Yet, even as he spoke with confidence, he could feel the fear that he was wrong grip at his stomach. Would she ever forgive him if he was? Would she still stand by his side with the fear that at every moment, he could go mental like this and turn against her? She probably would, she was Hermione after all. But he knew that if he was wrong, more than anything, it would destroy the faith she had in him and eventhough she might remain by his side, he would lose her.

And then it happened, the proof that he was undeniably right The fear that distorted Hermione's beautiful features slowly faded into something that seemed even more out of place, so much that it threw him back. Malice. The sight of such a spite on the face of the woman he loved made him falter, even for just a split second. And somehow, that second seemed to be enough for his opponent to take the upper hand. Pushing back on her hands, she aimed a powerful upper kick to his stomach and threw him rolling onto the ground with a loud cry, giving her ample time to get to her feet and reach for her wand in her pocket. Now standing over him, it was her who pointed her wand in his face threateningly, a devious grin on her face. 'Feeble child. How the Dark Lord hasn't yet killed you, I'll never know. Points for figuring it out in the end, but really, a simple swap of Polyjuice potion and you're still so easily tricked? I thought you were meant to be clever, don't you ever learn?'

'Well, no. I'm stupid, Hermione's the clever one', Harry said with a sly grin. He seemed unaffected by the fact that he was sitting at whoever took Hermione's appearance's feet, under the threat of a wand. He was being sarcastic and Hermione would have known that this was the method he usually resolved to when faced with a threat, but to anyone else, it was somehow intimidating and more than anything, incredibly irritating. Her amber eyes narrowed, gratifying him with an evil glare and she pressed her lips together so that they formed a thin line. For a moment, he thought she was gathering her strenght to use the death curse on him and he held his breath, trying to think of a way to counter the attack. His wand had flown out of his grasp when he had been kicked and it now lay somewhere behind him, out of reach. As if she was reading his mind, Hermione smiled and called, 'Accio Wand'

From the bushes that bordered the road, his wand flew at lightning speed into Hermione's hand and she caught it without ever taking her eyes off Harry. 'Get up.'

And wordlessly, she lead him up the road all the way to the Shrieking Shack.

Hermione found that all her efforts to hide away in the darkness had been for nothing the moment the door cracked open, throwing a splash of light that blinded her onto her face. She turned her face away, blinking a few times, then heard a loud gasp that made her look back in shock eventhough it hurt her eyes. She saw two silhouettes enter the room, one of which detached from the other one and took long hurried strides into her direction. When it bent over her, she shrieked in fear against her gag, attempting to turn away from it before she realized who it was. 'Mione, oh Merlin, Mione...'

'Are you sure about this, Harry?'

Harry turned away from the book that was set down on the table before him and looked at Hermione, who was sitting by his side. Ron was sitting in front of her, amazingly still awake eventhough they had already been confined in the library for several hours. He was himself browsing through a book with a surprising interest. Hermione, on the other hand, found it difficult to concentrate and spent a great deal of time throwing worried glances in Harry's direction and looking over the things he was writing on the parchment he kept by the book. He could see her eyes were red from the two sleepless nights in a row they had all endured, trying to make sure everything was ready and he felt a pang in his chest at the thought of the danger he was putting his friends in. Her eyes were like magnets and it was with great difficulty that he tore his away from hers, but he knew he wouldn't be able to give her a straight answer if he didn't. 'Yes, I am'

'Of course he is, Hermione. You are too', Ron said, closing his book. He too looked drained, with dark circles under his eyes. Hermione turned to him, looking unconvinced, then dropped her face in her hands and sighed. She could not believe they were about to do this, to go against Voldemort of their own accord. They had dealt with danger as it fell upon them each and every year they had spent at Hogwarts, but had never truly seeked it out, except maybe in their fifth year, but even that was different. Everything that had gone on during their sixth year had indicated the presence of Voldemort or at least, Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest and with the menace on the school increasing, they had decided to go face him before he took on Hogwarts. Too many people would be in danger if he did, and Harry would only let Voldemort take over Hogwarts over his dead body. Hermione had shivered as he had told them this, the mere thought of losing Harry - or any of her friends, for that is - being too much to bear. Just like Harry, she had been convinced that it was the thing to do, but as the days closed in on the date they had decided on, she found that her confidence was slipping away from her hands like sand. And now, as they sat in the library, making a list of the spells that could be of the most use to them, she realized she had none left.

Suddenly, she felt an hand on her shoulder and she looked up to find Harry looking at her with concern. She felt her eyes fill with tears but she held them back, offering him a smile. He matched her smile and moved his hand from her shoulder to her cheek, allowing it to pause there for a few seconds. And those few seconds offered her more support than any words could. More than ever, she knew that if Harry was there, she could go through anything.

Harry pushed the gag off her mouth, letting it hang around her neck and she took in a long breath, her lungs burning from all the dust she had inhaled in the past hour. In tears, she called out his name and he pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head as he held on to her. Her face burried in his chest she took in a second long breath, taking in his smell and letting it, even for a short moment, comfort her and make her forget what was happening. For a handful of seconds, it was all over. And then everything came rushing back.

His arms still around Hermione, whom he had pulled into a sitting position, Harry turned towards the doppelganger who still stood in the doorway. She was smiling proudly, as if she had accomplished just what she had been instructed to do. And, as he heard the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway, he understood that she had. Hermione was crying in his arms, shaking from the cold and he chose to ignore the menace for just a moment more to take care of her, taking off his cloak to wrap it around her shoulders. 'Shh, it'll be okay.'

'Ever so the optimist, Potter'

He could have recognized that spiteful voice anywhere and he set his jaw as he turned to face the man who had just spoke. Sure enouh, Draco Malfoy stood by the side of Hermione's double. Getting onto his feet, between Hermione and them, he clenched his fists, wishing more than anything that he had his wand to curse them both. He could feel his scar pulse with dormant pain and he needn't be told who was still hiding in the hallway. The pain came in full force as the sound of steps resumed and Voldemort entered the room, both of his minions moving to the side to let him pass. Behind him trailed Wormtail, his metal arm glistening in the light. His knuckles turned white as he transfered all of his pain into clenching his wrists on both side of his body, not wanting to give Voldemort the satisfaction of a painful scream. Behind him, he heard some shuffling on the ground as Hermione tried to contort herself in such a way that she could see without falling back on the ground, still restricted in her movements by her bounds.

'You've done good. Now go, both of you', Voldemort said , waving his bony hand in the general direction of Draco and the fake Hermione. With one last look at Harry, they left in silence, closing the door behind them.

The following minutes passed on quickly. The Dark Lord pulled a long bloody sword from his robes, throwing it onto the floor where it fell with a loud clanking sound that startled Hermione into letting out a small cry. Harry recognized it immediatly, how could he not? It had already claimed the life of one of his friends and it was still covered with her dried blood. Raising his eyes from the sword to meet Voldemort's, Harry had little time to react before he raised his wand and used the crucio spell on him. Harry fell on his knees, screaming until his lungs ached yet aware of nothing at all. The pain was ripping him apart, as if a metal hook had a strong hold onto his ribbage and was pulling it away from his chest. He was vaguely aware of Hermione screaming at Voldemort to stop before she herself let out a cry of pain as Wormtail pulled her up roughly by the arm and dragged her to his Lord. At once, the spell was taken off Harry and he fell forward onto his hands, panting heavily as he stood on all fours. On the ground, the sword rotated so that the handle faced him and it slid unto the ground until it reached his right hand with a metallic grind. Without looking up at Voldemort, he wrapped his fingers around the cold metal and slowly pulled himself up, his breathing still laboured.

'Love was the thing that saved your life, your mother's willing sacrifice to save the life of her only son. Who would have thought that love would also take your life in the end?', Voldemort said, satisfaction visible on his inhuman face. Extending his hand towards the sword Harry held in his, he continued. 'I know better than to let you use your wand, boy. But killing you while you're unarmed? Now, what would that make me?'

With his free hand he held Hermione, who was struggling to get away with little success. He gave her a rough shake and she shrieked in pain and finally settled down, breathing as heavily as Harry.

'A bloody pain in the arse, that's what it makes you', Harry said without a smile, clutching the handle of the sword. After a few seconds, Voldemort produced an horrible sound that could only be interpreted as laughter, eventhough it pained even Wormtail to hear it. The minion cowered into a dark corner, petrified. And then it stopped and Voldemort raised his free hand to wrap his cold fingers around Hermione's jaw, tigheting his grip until she screamed in pain. Harry noticeably flinched at that, narrowing his eyes at Voldemort Now unecessary, the magical bounds around her wrists and ankles faded away with a faint light.

'Harry, no...Don't. Please don't', Hermione managed to get out between grunts of pain as Voldemort maintained his hold, his claws digging into her skin until they draw blood. The sight of Hermione's blood trailing down the white skin of Voldemort's hand seemed to bring Harry to his breaking point and with a scream he charged Voldemort with the sword raised above him.

A satisfied smirk on his snake face, Voldemort violently pushed Hermione on the ground then raised his wand. Hitting a chair which broke under her weight as she landed, Hermione felt a sharp pain erupt from her thigh and travel up her body but she did not scream, all of the air dragged out of her lungs as she hit the ground on her back. Ignoring the sight of a large piece of wood protruding from her right leg, she looked on with horror, powerless as green light jutted from Voldemort's wand and hit Harry square in the chest, sending him flying backwards through the air. The sword fell before he did, its weight and small surface making it crack the rotten wound of the floor as it did. And then Harry fell on his back, and Hermione finally screamed. An heartwrenching scream, as if she'd died. And she had, in a way.

Harry laid on the ground, his eyes openned in the darkness. Dead.

Author's Note: Again, I repeat, please refrain from killing me. Let the story unfold. And as I said, next part is coming up tonight.

Author's Note: On the short side, and on the very sad side (well, I wanted it to be anyway ;)). I've already been hexed, I believe, but please, once again, refrain from killing me, or you'll never know what happens next. And it so is the best part *nods* This story has been maturing in my head for a year, I hope it's like good wine, lol.
The title of this chapter comes from the James Blunt song 'Goodbye my lover', which I listened to on loop (sometimes mixed with Damien Rice's 'Amie') while writing this chapter.

Part 7

Her vision was blurred when she opened her eyes and she blinked a few times, trying to bring it into focus. She could make out the silhouette of a man sitting by her bed, leaning forward in his seat. She was laying in her large bed without a pillow under her head, which probably explained why her neck felt so stiff, partly covered by the blankets. And then finally, her vision came into focus and she could make out who it was. Ron was sitting there, looking at her with great concern. And as she looked at him in silence, the previous events came rushing back. The trip at Hogsmeade, being knocked out, waking up bound and gagged in the Shrieking Shack, Voldemort and then...and then..

After a long moment of starring at Ron in silence, she felt herself break apart. Her face twisted in her grimace as she broke down into heavy sobs, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Ron felt his own tears trail down his face as he reached out for her and pulled her into his arms, half sitting, half laying on the bed. He held her as tightly as he could, wincing in pain as her fingernails dug into his skin through the light fabric of his shirt but not letting go. He did not try to confort or calm her, he simply let her cry knowing that nothing he could say would help. Losing Ginny had thought him that. As she cried, she repeated Harry's name over and over again and every time felt like a cold stab in the heart.

His knees had given up on him when Dumbledore himself had apparated to the Burrow to inform him and the rest of the Weasleys of Harry's death. He had heard his mother cry and would have had marveled at seeing the twins silenced had the circonstances been different. He had screamed and he had cried, but nothing had changed what was. His best friend was gone, forever. At Dumbledore's request he had apparated back to Hogwarts with him, not that anything could have kept him from coming. He had immediatly been lead to Hermione's room, where she was kept asleep by a charm. In silence, he had sat for half a day before the charm had worn off and she had woken up.

When he had come to announce them the sad news, Dumbledore had also informed them of what he knew of the events leading up to and following Harry's death. The wards placed around Hogsmeade during their sixth year to detect dark magic had gone off at the use of the crucio curse and members of the Order of the Phoenix had fled to the source, the Shrieking Shack. There, they had been greated with the horrifying scream of Hermione, finding an entrance that had never been there before and entering the house to find an equally horrifying scene. Hermione was sitting on the ground, craddling in her arms the lifeless body of Harry, her fingers in his hair. She was crying, blood from small injuries on her face offering a troubling contrast with her pale face, Harry's black cloak falling over her shoulders and covering a part of Harry's body. She had screamed like a fury when they had tried to pry her away from him, kicking the air despite a severe wound to her right leg that bled profusely. Tonks had used a sleeping charm on her and she had collapsed in the witch's arms, unconcious. She had been brought back to the nursery, where Pomfrey had cared for her wounds, then to her room where she had slept for a whole day. She still bore the marks of Voldemort's claws on her face, three little half moons on her left cheek that had refused to heal completely no matter how many balms or potions had been used. Like herself, it would take time to heal, Dumbledore had said, before retiring sadly to his quarters, leaving Ron alone with Hermione in the room.

As he had sat, watching her sleep, he had allowed himself to fall back into the familiar and comforting memories of his past, of his first six and a half years at Hogwarts. Before Ginny had been taken away from him, before all of this. Their sixth year had been relatively calm, the hints of a menace only making themselves known after the winter break. The second half of the year and especially the following summer had been quite more traumatic, but their seventh year had began nicely, allowing them to breathe. And then, the attack on the Chamber of Secrets had fallen upon them, leading to the death of Ginny and everything had fallen apart. And this was his punishment, for treating Harry the way he had. He had lost the best friend he'd ever had and probably would ever have.

As Hermione held on for dear life to him, crying until she fell back to sleep, he had only one thought. Whatever happened, he would protect her. He would not lose her like he had lost Harry.

Hermione dropped down on her seat at the Gryffindor table with a long sigh, a far cry from her usually posed manners. Ron froze with his hand holding a buttered toast halfway to his mouth and looked at her. She said nothing, staring down at her empty plate, then allowing her eyes to scan the table before they came to rest on the plate again. 'Hermione?'

She looked up at him with a frown, which faded as soon as she caught his worried expression. She began to babble something he could not quite catch, then her voice broke and she froze, paralyzed. Everyone in the Great Hall was staring at her, just as they had been looking at Ron ever since he had come to sit there. Next to Hermione, Harry's usual place was horribly empty. Ron dropped the toast in his own plate and extended his now free hands across the table as he stood, placing both of them on her shoulders. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his and for the first time he caught a clear glance of the dark circles under her red eyes, the pallor of her face, the yet unhealed marks on her cheeks. Every time he looked at them, they reminded him of what had happened, as if he needed an incentive to remember. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...I'm not even hungry, I don't know why I even came here.'

It had been two days since he had come to Hogwarts, two horribly long days filled with tears from everyone, even some Slytherins. Draco had failed to return to school, confirming his role in all this wrong-doing. Hermione had remained in her room, sitting silently in her bed, looking horribly pale and numb. She had not shed a tear after waking up the second time and this was the first time she had come out. Class had been cancelled for the week, no students nor teachers able to concentrate in such circonstances. Today was the day he feared most of all, Harry's funeral.

'Are you sure? You haven't eaten much since...'

'I...yes, I'm sure. I feel nauseous anyway', Hermione said, slowly getting up. She gave her empty plate one last look before she turned away and walked out the same way she came in, Ron mimicking her on the other side of the table. The met at the door and continued walking as he slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders. At this, Hermione flinched and he could see what he had just done had been reminiscent of something Harry had done many times. With his hand, he squeezed her shoulder gently and she smiled sadly, allowing him to lead her back to her room. The portrait swung open and they climbed up the few solid rock steps leading up to the door. Ron pushed it open and softly pushed her in, following behind her. On her bed, he saw that she had prepared her clothes for the funeral, a simple black muggle dress and shoes he remembered seeing her wear at Ginny's own funeral, but next to it was neatly folded what he recognized to be Harry's cloak. Without a look at him she went to sit a the window and brought her legs against her chest, leaning her head against the glass and peering down at the Hogwarts grounds. He stood there, uncomfortably shifting his weight from foot to foot, wondering if he should leave of if she wished for him to stay. Finally, he opted for staying and made his way to the window seat, sitting down in the small space that was left. 'Are you parents coming?'

She nodded absently, looking at an empty spot in the horizon. Ron's eyes remained on her, searching for a sign that would indicate what she needed to be told to make things better, to make her finally react and not be numb anymore. As much as he hated to see her cry, he preferred tears to seeing her like this, so cold. After several minutes of silence, she turned away from the window to look at him. In the last two days, everybody who wasn't yet aware of Harry and Hermione's relationship had learned about it, the craziest of rumors about what had happened circulating the school before Dumbledore had set the record straight and simply told the students the truth, as he had done when Cedric had died, because Harry's memory deserved respect.

'I don't want to talk about Harry being gone. There's no point...,' she began, stopping abruptly and getting up before crossing the room to sit on her bed, where she gently stroked the cloak with her palm. 'There's no point in talking about how I feel when my life's been ripped apart. I don't want to talk about my feelings, I don't want to talk about what happened that night. Because... It's my fault, it all is. I was selfish, I only thought of myself.' By the time she was over, she was almost screaming, her eyes filled with tears and her face red. Ron began shaking his head as he got to his feet, wanting to tell her that none of this was her fault, but she continued before he could do any of it. 'It's my fault! I wanted to be with Harry so bad that I didn't even think about what would happen when Voldemort learned that Harry had a girlfriend. Of course he was going to get to him through me! I was an idiot, selfish child and now Harry's gone and I...'

Tears were now falling freely on her face and she had stood, waving her hands wildly in the air to emphasize her words. He closed the distance that seperated them and once again pressed both hands on her shoulders. 'I need him Ron, I need him so much. I can't... I'm nothing without him...'

And at once, her knees gave up on her and she slumped onto the ground, bringing him with her as she collapsed. His arms around her and his chin resting on the top of her head, he held her against his chest as she sobbed heavily, clawing at the front of his shirt, crying out as if in pain. And he knew she was, because he felt it too. He didn't think that anything could feel worse than losing his sister, but the amount of loss he had endured in the last few months, in addition to having to deal with a broken Hermione, made for a pain that made it difficult to think or breathe.

And as Hermione came down the stairs that afternoon, Harry's cloak weighing heavily on her small frame and covering her entire body down to her feet, she found that not thinking at all was better. The pain was easier to deal with when you sat in silence, staring in front of you and telling yourself that none of this was really happening. When you allowed people to guide you were you needed to go without saying a word. It was much harder to stand in front of them all to drop a single rose on the rectangular piece of white marble that served as Harry's coffin without collapsing but somehow, she managed, allowing Ron to bring her back to her front row seat, an empty look in her eyes. It was much easier to not think about anything at all.

Author's Note: And I repeat, please do not kill me. Yes, he is really really dead, but... You'll have to read the next chapter when it (most likely) comes out this friday. I would have added to this chapter, but I felt this needed a chapter of its own, to reintroduce Ron (by the way, this won't turn into a R/Hr fic, oh my god, no!) and state that Harry is really gone or is he? Well yes. But really? ;) And this marks my first chapter without a flashback! (which is because there's only one left and it will constitute most of the next chapter...dun dun dun!)