Chapter 41: Seasons of Change
Late Monday morning brought one of the hardest rains of the year. Huge, lashing, warm sheets of rain, bright flashes of lightning, and booming thunder made many a student sitting their end of year written exams lose focus of what they were writing and thinking to gaze upwards toward the enchanted ceiling; some visibly jumping at each loud, cracking drumroll the sky emitted. Above, a perfect copy of nature's outdoor canopy showed a blackish-grey swirl of angry looking storm clouds, their complete picture blurred and smeared by heavy torrents of rain pelting down like liquid bullets, disappearing some fifteen feet above the student's heads.
The rain was a distraction. That was certain. What was even more certain, however, was that even without the roaring and crashing above, many would have still had problems concentrating on something that seemed much less important than it once might have been.
Once again, as if everything was normal, as if everyone's world had not recently been turned upside down, the four long house tables of the Great Hall had been moved aside in favour of a roomful of individual desks for end of year exams.
As hard as it was for those who had been through the war to accept that life moved on, as strange as it was to try going on about normal business with newly jaded eyes and ill-understood emotions, everyone knew business as usual had to be gone on about. Headmaster McGonagall had reminded the students of that fact, making certain that she did it in the gentlest way possible, which meant it came out rather stern anyway despite her efforts.
Ginny Weasley, sitting near the front of rows upon rows of desks, had been lost in thought for more than five minutes now, but a small cough and a slight clearing of the throat by McGonagall broke her from her reverie long enough to catch her eye. Though she looked kindly at her as if understanding her distractions, nevertheless, the professor motioned toward the large hourglass sitting behind herself on an intricate, highly polished professor's desk.
Fifteen more minutes, Miss Weasley... Professor McGonagall mouthed silently to her, and yet, Ginny felt she had never cared less about a test in her life. Though what had happened during the war played on her mind day after day, this day, something a bit more immediate was actually succeeding in chasing it from her mind... someone more immediate, to be precise.
Draco Malfoy.
Ginny sighed and made a half-hearted attempted to put her mind into marking down an answer on her test, before resting her chin on her hand once again.
The Malfoy she had known before the war no longer existed. Those who had never known him well enough to see the difference knew nothing of his changes, but Ginny noticed. It was as plain as the closed-off, brooding look on his face, and the hollow, clipped tone in his voice. From the moment he had been found only yards from the battlefield, slumped in an almost catatonic state near one of the dead trees of the Kavan Forest, he had been a different person. There was an odd sort of hesitation in his words and a quieter, more reserved way about him that had certainly not been a part of the cocky, self-assured Malfoy Ginny had come to know.
This morning he had been quieter and more emotionally distant than she had ever seen him, though Ginny could hardly fault him for it, knowing what this particular day, of all days, was bringing him.
Having already finished every exam he thought he could, he had been done with school since Friday evening, though he had opted to wait leaving until Ginny had finished her exams as well so that he could attend the leaving feast, scheduled tomorrow evening, with her. Beyond that, he had nothing in particular to go home to; riches being a poor substitute for company, and Ginny had the distinct feeling that Draco was trying to put off having to go back to the Malfoy mansion for as long as possible. Grimacing, she thought about the abrupt change the war had brought about in Malfoy. He had always crowed about his future after school, about how easy it would be, as a Malfoy, to climb the ranks of the Ministry of Magic, and about how, when the position was finally offered to him, he would be the youngest Minister ever to have taken office. He had a well-known, well-respected name, was obscenely rich, had all the right connections thanks to his father, and had no worries about the future.
Now somehow, even though he still owned his riches and his name, he no longer seemed to hold the same self-assurance. Since the war, Ginny had not heard another word about what Malfoy planned to do after school. She doubted he even knew anymore. He seemed to drift along aimlessly, a sad, angry cloud hovering over his head, and the closer it had gotten to this day, Monday, the more he had begun distancing himself from her. All of her coaxing to get him to talk about it had failed, and above all, she simply wished she had been able to go with him on the task he was facing today, instead of being stuck in this damned hall taking tests that hardly seemed to matter any more.
Today was the reading of Lucius Malfoy's will. Along with Sirius, Ginny had seen Draco off very early this morning at the great double doors leading into the entrance hall, all of his possessions packed into his trunk and levitated behind him, as he was to make his way down the long beaten drive toward the gates leading to the school and wait for one of his father's Muggle limousines to pick him up. He had given her a peck on the cheek before turning to walk away, trunk trailing dismally behind him, and had hunched himself into his long black raincoat against the early morning's chilling drizzle of rain, looking by all accounts the picture of misery.
She had not been able to get his picture out of her head all morning long, and could hardly concentrate on exams for wondering how he was feeling. She knew the guilt of what he had done to his father, however necessary the act had been, gnawed at his insides with every passing moment; knew that he had been more than happy to be able to "hide out" at Hogwarts away from the accusing eyes of the rest of the world... and although he would never admit it, knew that the thought of what distant family members, or business associates of his father's might say to him upon finally catching sight of him at the recital of the will had been plaguing his mind. He brought it up in jokes, laughing sardonically that killing off the Malfoy patriarch might have cost him his favour with the rest of the Malfoy family, and that he would probably not be looked on as favourably as he once had to work at the Ministry now that he had got rid of one of their star benefactors, but Ginny was not easily fooled by his cheek. The truth behind his snarkiness was far from humorous.
He was terrified.
Everything he had been before the war, all that he had believed about himself, was no longer. He no longer knew who he was or where he was going in life, which was all he had ever had in the first place.
He was lost, and above all else, Ginny felt he probably thought he was more alone now than he had ever been before. And it was this, above all, that gave her the most unrest. She did not want him to feel alone. She wanted him to know, at least above all else, that "alone" was something he was not... and she would make certain that he knew it, that he had options to not being alone, if only he would let her in again...
Without making a sound, McGonagall had somehow moved to where Ginny was sitting, and the light touch she placed on her arm startled her into jumping. The usual stern expression the professor wore had been replaced by a sort of a concerned grimace.
"Miss Weasley," she whispered gently. "Try to concentrate. I know it's difficult, but you'll have the rest of your life to think on other things, and only one chance to do well on these exams."
Ginny sighed. "I know. It's just... it's hard."
"I've no doubt," McGonagall said, patting her on the shoulder. "It's difficult for us all. However, if you're unable to make the best effort now, you've still got the option of returning during summer to do your tests when you've rested up a bit, as I've made clear to all my students-"
"I know," said Ginny. "No. That won't be necessary. I'll finish, Professor. I'll try to concentrate, I promise."
McGonagall eyed her for a moment and pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. "You'll let me know if it becomes too much for you?"
Ginny nodded and watched the Professor turn to make her way back up to the large polished desk facing the students. It did not matter if she postponed her tests until later anyway. It was too late to join Draco at the reading of his father's will, and that would have been the only reason she would have done so anyway.
Sighing she put quill to paper and began marking down another answer. He had said he would be returning from the reading sometime late this afternoon, and she would have to content herself with finding out then how it had gone.
*************************************************
By early evening, the heavy torrents pelting the school had settled down into a hard, murky drizzle that clicked and tapped on windows like millions of tiny needles, the weather seeming determined to keep its pattern of grey and gloomy no matter whether the rain decided to let up a bit or not.
In Gryffindor tower, and perched on the windowsill nearest her bed, Ginny sat hugging her knees to her chest and peering worriedly out into the wet darkness of Hogwarts grounds. From where she was she could just make out the twilight-dimmed, rain-fogged trail that led from the front gates of the school to the great double doors leading into the entrance hall, and though she squinted as hard as she could, the trail made a bit easier to see with the light spilling from Hagrid's hut, she still spotted no figure trudging back towards the school. She had been sitting, staring at the same spot for more than an hour now, and frustration finally got the better of her.
"Where IS he!?" she suddenly exclaimed, dropping her feet to the floor and slapping her thighs in anger.
Hermione, who had decided to keep Ginny company, and who had been lounging on another girl's bed reading a copy of Witch Weekly in the otherwise unoccupied room, jumped unexpectedly at the noise, the magazine flying from her hands to land sprawled on the bed a few feet away.
"Oh! Merlin, Ginny you scared the life out of me-"
"He should be back by now!" Ginny continued frantically, ignoring her. "He said he'd only be gone throughout most of the afternoon! Here it is half past five and he still hasn't returned!"
Hermione sighed. "Maybe it ran longer than he thought it would... or maybe he's just had a rough time of it and needs some time alone. I can't imagine it's pleasant having to sit your father's will, knowing you're the reason he's no longer around-"
"What if he's decided not to come back," said Ginny, suddenly fearfully, barely hearing her. "What if he's just decided he's had enough of everything and he's gone for good-"
"Don't be ridiculous," said Hermione, sharply. "Ginny, he told you he wanted to sit the Leaving Feast with you tomorrow night. He cares about you, and I doubt he's changed his mind. You're worrying too much. Just relax, he'll be back. Maybe it just ran a bit long."
"And what would you say to me if it was Harry feeling all alone and insecure and he hadn't come back from somewhere at the time he said he would, aye?" Asked Ginny, narrowing her eyes. "Wouldn't be as relaxed then, would you?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Ginny, that's the story of my life with Harry. You know that. Only with Harry it was usually him trying to make a trip to his death alone, not to the reading of a will."
Ginny stared hard at her for a moment before her cool façade broke. "I know it is! Which is why I don't understand how you can think Draco will just come back! I mean he's in a bit of the same state Harry was now, isn't he? He's orphaned, he's got no one, well, at least Harry thought he had no one before his father turned back up alive, and Sirius doesn't really count as he was in Azkaban most of Harry's life and Harry didn't know about him-"
"Harry has me... and in the same way, Malfoy's got you," Hermione interrupted, firmly. "You just remember that."
Ginny sighed and shook her head dismally. "I only hope he remembers it."
"He does," said Hermione standing and placing a hand on Ginny's arm. "I know it... you'll just have to remind him of it every now and then."
Ginny scoffed and folded her arms. "And what makes you so certain?"
"I've seen the way you are together... I've seen the way you care for one another; the way he's opened up to you like no one else. Believe me, Ginny, if Malfoy is anything like Harry he knows real love when it stares him in the face. I think the lack of it his whole life has got to show him the difference once he experiences it."
Ginny stared hard at the floor for a moment before moving over to plop down on the bed beside Hermione, swiping at her eyes. Hermione put an arm about her shoulders and squeezed her comfortingly.
"Alright now?"
Ginny paused, wiping her eyes once more. "Some... thank you, Hermione."
"Of course."
Ginny moved back to her perch on the windowsill, passing a few more fruitless minutes searching the grounds before turning back to Hermione again.
"So what are you doing up here with me when you could be spending time with Harry?"
Hermione placed the magazine down again and looked up at her. "Actually, he thought you might be needing the company. I agreed with him."
"Harry thought I would?" said Ginny, sounding surprised.
"Yes," said Hermione, smiling, "And besides he and Ron have been in Hogsmeade all day looking at flats... Professor McGonagoll gave them permission to go together since we're done with exams, and Harry wants to be out on his own and away from the Dursleys as soon as possible." The sound of the Dursleys' name coming from her lips seemed to leave Hermione with a bitter taste, but after a moment, she pressed on. "Anyway, Harry said he and Ron had 'male things' to discuss tonight, which probably means he wants to play Quidditch in the rain when they get back, sort of as a last hurrah, so I told him we'd make it a 'birds and blokes' night and let him play with Ron for a bit."
Ginny frowned. "Aren't you bothered you three are leaving school tomorrow? Do you even know when you'll be seeing them both together again?"
Hermione smiled. "Well I imagine I'll be seeing a lot of Harry... we're going out, aren't we? He's already got a flat in mind big enough for he and Ron to rent together. He's had one picked out for some time in one of the apartment buildings we saw in Hogsmeade. I imagine I'll be able to find one there as well so we can all live close to one another. In any case, Harry's decided he will be going back to the Dursleys at least one last time... though he's hoping it'll only be to pick up anything he might have left there."
"Why would he want to go back at all?" asked Ginny, incredulously. "Surely he hasn't left behind anything that valuable to actually want to go back to that horrid place and get it."
Hermione sighed. "I don't think it's so much anything he's left as it is he feels obligated to say goodbye to Petunia and Dudley. Even after how they treated him Harry feels he owes them at least a goodbye and where to reach him if they need to... I think he feels quite guilty about what happened to his uncle."
"But that wasn't his fault!" said Ginny fiercely.
"Well, Voldemort was after Harry, so he went after Harry's family," said Hermione. "Of course he feels responsible for it. It doesn't mean he wants to be there any longer than to tell them goodbye, but I think he feels he needs to do that... He hasn't said so, but I know that's what it is. He needs some sort of closure on that bit of his life to move on."
Ginny sat in silence for a moment, mulling Hermione's words over before she spoke again.
"Well he shouldn't feel responsible," she said coldly. "And Draco shouldn't feel responsible for what he had to do to his father, either. They brought it on themselves. They were horrible people and they did horrible things! They deserved what they got!"
"I agree they were horrible," said Hermione. "But that doesn't make Harry feel any better about his uncle's death... and I'm certain Draco feels even worse about his father's death. I mean, Draco's directly responsible for Lucius, isn't he? It doesn't matter if it had to be done, he still killed his own father. Think how he must feel! He's not going to get over the guilt of that so easily."
Ginny paused again and turned her face back to the window and the grounds below. "No, he won't... and I don't know how to help him."
"Just be there for him," said Hermione, sagely. "You can't undo what's been done, but you can show him he's still a worthy person by sticking with him and loving him no matter what. That's going to be more effective than any words you can give him."
Ginny nodded, pressing her lips together in an effort to keep from crying. "If he'll let me."
"If he won't let you, do it anyway," said Hermione firmly. "It may come to that... it certainly has for Harry and me a few times. He starts thinking he's not worth me loving him, and I've got to remind him what a wonderful person he is and how I love him for who he is. Draco and he are more alike than either would like to admit, I think."
Ginny nodded quietly, her eyes never leaving the blurred picture of the worn path leading back to the school. "I suppose they are, aren't they?"
****************************************
Strolling across the cold, rain soaked ground toward the Quidditch pitch, Sirius pulled his rain-imperturbed cloak even tighter about his person, his keen eyes searching through the darkness of the surrounding area for any sign of life. For the past hour his wand had kept steadily warm in his hands, pointing him toward his destination, telling him that the person he had applied his tracking charm to this morning had finally returned to the school, though they had chosen not to enter it.
An hour was quite long enough to stew, thought Sirius to himself as he finally caught sight of a head of damp silvery-blonde hair resting against the back of one tree near the north Quidditch stands. The person was shifting a bit on the ground, trying to make themselves more comfortable, though Sirius thought to himself that he was probably sitting out in the rain on an uncomfortable patch of sopping wet ground as a sort of punishment for himself. He shook his head and sighed as he approached, thinking to himself how, as a younger man, he had done the same thing. Nothing was new under the sun.
Footsteps squishing softly on the ground behind him alerted Malfoy to the fact that someone had found him much earlier than he had wanted. He slid his arms off his knees with an exasperated sigh, his voice coming out flat and echoless in the wide open space of the pitch.
"Look Red, I just want to be alone for a while, alright?"
A much deeper voice than Draco had been expecting spoke up to answer him.
"I should think you've had enough of that already to last a lifetime."
Draco's eyes widened. In an instant he had whipped about, his wand drawn and aimed, though upon seeing who it was, he dropped it just as quickly.
"Oh, it's you," he said dully, turning away from Sirius once more and dropping back against the tree again. "Bored, are you? Out looking for a cat to chase? Hydrant to mark?"
Sirius made his way round the tree to face Malfoy. "You might at least pretend you're pleased to see me."
"In the same way you pretend you're bothered if I don't? What's the point in that game?" Malfoy retorted, though the dull, spiritless way in which he spoke kept any sting intended with the words from meeting their mark. "Look, just go away, alright... I'm not up for one of your pep talks right now."
Without a word, Sirius planted himself down Indian-style across from Malfoy and pulled his rain slicker closer about him, squinting at the younger man as if trying to discern his mood through the darkness.
"Always great to know you respect my wishes," said Malfoy coldly, eyeing him.
Sirius ignored his last remark as if he had not heard it. "What's going on with you? Why haven't you come back into the school?"
"How did you know where to find me?" asked Draco coldly, ignoring him. "Put a homing charm on me this morning, did you?"
"I might have."
"Hoping to catch me planning some 'secret remnants of the Death Eaters' meeting?"
"You really think they'd have you back now?" asked Sirius bluntly.
Draco smirked.
"Me neither," Sirius finished. But the wry tone to his voice disappeared quickly. "You've got poor Ginny Weasley tied into knots, you know. She's been watching for you all afternoon, thinking you've left for good."
"And how do you know what Ginny's feeling?" asked Draco, narrowing his eyes. Then he snorted unpleasantly. "Oh wait, let me guess.... the Gryffindor grapevine. Weaselby told Granger who told Scarhead who told his father who told you, right? The neverending soap opera. I suppose I should've expected major intrusion with dating a Weasley... family and friends come as a packaged deal."
"You're not fooling me so you can stop trying to change the subject," said Sirius bluntly. "What's happened?"
"What'd you mean, 'what's happened'?" Draco snapped suddenly, breaking the twig he had been holding. "You know what's happened! I sat the reading of Lucius' will today! You think it's pleasant sitting in a group of people who stare at you and whisper with one another behind your back? And let me tell you, some of them need to learn how to effing whisper, because I heard just about every damn thing they were thinking about me... some of them just thought I didn't deserve to be there. Others weren't as kind. Apparently they don't agree murderers should be high up on the inheritance list."
Sirius studied him dispassionately for a moment before speaking again. "Don't think for one second I believe you cared what they thought of you. That's not it. You've hardly known those people. I mean our sort aren't exactly known for their warm family ties, are they? I've certainly never known them."
"Doesn't mean I want them putting me on the same shit-list with you," said Malfoy, his bitter tone coming out harsher than he intended. In an instant he felt sorry. "Well... I mean... that's not what I-"
"You should be so lucky," Sirius interrupted him coldly, leaning forward to glare at him. "I'm considered a blood traitor because I disowned the Blacks and their prejudices, and they, in turn, disowned me. I reckon I'd rather be on the shit-list of a bunch of supremacist, bigoted pure bloods than considered one of them... how about you?"
Draco had the courtesy to colour just a bit. "No. No, I... that's not what I meant. It's just... he... Lucius, he..." He broke off for a moment, balling his fists and looking as if he was waging an inward battle with himself before he spoke again. "They think it's my fault," he finished through gritted teeth. "They blame me. They don't know what he... and even if they did, some of them wouldn't... Look, none of them thought I should be there. As it turns out-"
"What you did was necessary, Draco," said Sirius firmly, leaning forward. "You've got to stop thinking of Lucius only in terms of blood and start thinking of him as the enemy, no matter what anyone else says... distant family or no. That's what he was... the enemy. He would have killed every half-blood, Muggle-born and magical creature he could get his hands on, if he was able. He would have helped Voldemort take over. You know that. And he was no father to you. None whatsoever. There's more to being a father than sharing a last name and a fortune."
"Don't pretend to understand me!" Draco blurted, suddenly angry. "Don't pretend you've even got a clue what it's like to-"
"I'm probably the only one who really does understand!" Sirius barked sharply in reply. "I've lived your life, Draco. We're remarkably similar, you and I. Think about it."
Malfoy set his jaw stubbornly, his face scarlet, and then dropped his gaze to stare down at his hands. For a long while, he and Sirius stared in different directions, both lost in their own thoughts, the chilling drizzle of rain the only sound in the darkness as it pattered their raincoats like millions of tiny pins dropping all at once.
For all of his own problems, Malfoy realized he had quite chosen to forget that Sirius Black was probably the one person in his world who could even come close to understanding the sort of life he had lived. However, the compassion and understanding Sirius seemed to have begun showing him lately was discomfiting to say the least, and the fact remained that Sirius was left with at least one important thing that Malfoy did not, and would not ever have again. Working against his better judgement at ever letting anyone into his personal affairs, Ginny Weasley notwithstanding, he decided finally to speak it aloud.
"He wrote me out," he said flatly, and the sound of his own dull voice actually speaking the words brought a reality to the situation that settled in his stomach like a cold lump.
Sirius looked up at him, his expression unreadable.
Raging inwardly, Draco gritted his teeth and forced the rest of it out. "Of the will. He wrote me out. I've got nothing."
"Nothing..." Sirius repeated.
"Yeah, nothing!" He raged furiously, slamming a fist onto the wet ground and rising to his knees. "You know that thing that's less than something!? That's what I've got! Not only am I a murderer, I'm a piss-poor one to boot! I haven't got a knut to my name! He didn't even leave me the mansion. He knew I wasn't going to measure up to his and Voldemort's standards so he took it all from me before it was too late. Disowned and disinherited me! And they all thought it was fitting, the whole lot of them... you could see it in their effing faces once they realized he'd taken it all from me! Looking satisfied and smug that the murderer got what he deserved, smiling at the thought that I'm left with nothing to live on! You wanted to know what was wrong? Well, that's it! I've got nothing, and I am nothing! Everything I was... everything I am is gone!"
He dropped back to the ground and clawed a hand through his hair, sending the blonde strands flying in different directions, his hands balling into fists tight enough for his fingernails to leave deep, crescent-shaped indents on the palms.
Sirius did not respond to the revelation, though he opted to study Malfoy with interest once again.
Draco clenched his jaw. Chest heaving with the sick feeling of desperation, blood boiling, fury at his circumstances, fury at everything fuelling his ire once more, he opened his mouth to yell some more, but Sirius beat him to the punch.
"Money is just an object, Draco."
"Easily spoken by one who still has it to spare," Malfoy countered brusquely. "A cauldron is an object but you won't find me able to pay rent with it any time soon."
The probing gaze Sirius continued to give him angered him even more, and before he knew what he was doing, Malfoy began to blurt out everything he was feeling yet again.
"Gods! It's not just... it's all I've ever had, don't you get it? My money and my name. I'd think you, of all people... our sort... they're... look it's not as if the Malfoys left me with some 'legacy of love' to go on, is it? Money is all I had! It was the same with you, so you've said, only I don't even have that anymore! It's all.. I.. had! It's who I was, it's what I understood, so what have I got now? Who am I now? Why would she want me anymo-"
Abruptly Draco broke off, shutting his mouth with a snap, and furious that he had let too much of his feelings slip out. The comprehending look on Sirius' face told Malfoy all he needed to know about whether or not Sirius had caught the last of his words and he mentally raged at himself for it.
"Don't think much of Ginny Weasley, do you?" asked Sirius quietly.
Taken aback, Malfoy was instantly even more furious than before. "YES I DO! It isn't her! She wouldn't-"
"Then it's you you think so little of."
Mouth still open but suddenly having nothing left to say, Draco snapped his jaw shut and fell back on his haunches. Feelings were never his strong suit. Gritting his teeth against the onslaught, the muscles on the sides of his jaw standing out like walnuts, he broke eye contact, and chose to set a hard glare on some spot to the far left of Sirius' gaze so that he would not have to look at him. Again they sat in miserable silence, Draco becoming increasingly uncomfortable with what he could only imagine was Sirius Black sitting there wreathed in sympathy for him, ruminating, just as he had done after Draco had done his own father in, on how to fix the broken young man before him.
The thought was more nauseatingly philanthropic than Malfoy could stand to bear, though, once again, on the verge of speaking up, Sirius beat him to it with a determined exhale.
"The money issue is easily remedied," he said quietly. "However, the fact you feel that if you have none, you're nothing... well, that's not so easily fixed."
The first bit of Sirius' statement drove all hateful thoughts of the other's sympathy for him temporarily out of Draco's mind.
"What'd you mean, 'the money is easily remedied'?"
Sirius shook his head, looking rueful. "I'd thought it might come to this. I'd considered how Lucius might retaliate once he learned you'd decided to join our side... He couldn't get to you physically, could he, being holed up at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's protection... The next best thing to punish you would have been to take away your inheritance..."
He paused, knowing exactly how Malfoy might take his next words, but had already decided, even before finding him tonight, that he was going to go through with his offer no matter how the boy baulked at his compassion. Taking a much needed deep breath, he ploughed on.
"Look, I've got more money and more rooms in old the Black mansion than I know what to do with. James has already taken me up on my offer of a room, and I'd already decided to give you some place to stay and cut you in on a bit of my own inheritance should Lucius decide to take you out of his. I'm not being completely unselfish, mind you... frankly I'd enjoy the company. Extra bodies make the old place seem a bit less like a mausoleum and more like a home-"
"I'm NOT your charity case!" Malfoy blurted suddenly, his face flushing hot and red, and the sick feeling of being pitied twisting his stomach once again. "I've never asked you for ANYTHING! I don't want your money, or a room in your house, you understand!? I don't need your-"
"I don't think you're a charity case," said Sirius in a deflated voice, and the weary look on his face seemed to anger Malfoy even more. "That's not what I'm trying to-"
"Think you have to share your wealth with the poor little orphan who's lost his way, aye?" Malfoy shouted. "Therapeutic for you, is it, to help out the pathetic little version of you growing up? Make you feel better?"
"That's not it at all! You're making an arse out of yourself, Draco-"
"I'm not looking for a bloody hand-out!" Malfoy's voice rose to a bellow. "I'm far from pathetic just yet, you understand? I can find a job. I'll save up the money to get my own flat-"
"And in the meantime, what are you going to do, live on the streets?" Sirius scoffed aloud. "Take to begging for sickles in Knockturn alley? Nick your food from rubbish bins?"
Malfoy had nothing to say to this. Chest heaving with humiliation, he looked away from Sirius, his voice when he spoke next sounding furiously quiet.
"Look... I don't want your sympathy or your money, Black. I... appreciate the... the offer, but... I don't want it, nor do I need it. "
"Of course you do, don't be stupid!" Sirius barked. "Put your damned pride aside for just once, will you? Whether or not you want to admit it, the fact remains that we are family, however distantly we're related. And I'm not trying to give you a hand-out, I'm trying to give you a hand-UP. There's a difference! As I said before, I've been where you are-"
"Have you?" asked Draco, sharply. "I don't recall you losing your home or inheritance. Nor do I think you've ever had to kill your own father, am I right?"
"No, I haven't, you're right," Sirius replied, huffing as if trying to get his irritation under control. "But I certainly know what it's like to be disowned by your family... to grow up never knowing what love and affection are- No, LISTEN TO ME! Believe it or not Malfoy, you and I... even Harry... we're a lot alike. Poor little rich wizards, loads of money and not a good, happy use in the world for it. I left home at sixteen before my parents could kick me out. They certainly wanted to disinherit me. You can believe that. I hadn't lived up to the Black family name, being a 'Muggle-lover' and a 'blood traitor', had I? But father died soon after I left, and mother went mad right after. Neither of them ever got round to changing the will so my less disappointing brother, Regulus, would get everything, and when he was killed... well... the rest is history, as they say. But look, when I left the Blacks, James Potter and his family, they became the family I never had. They took me in during summer rather than see me go back to the old house with my insane mother end of the school year... even let me stay there end of seventh year until I could get a job and afford my own place. They gave me food and a bed to sleep in, and more importantly, gave me the sort of care and support I never had growing up. And I felt the same as you at first, too proud to accept their generosity, embarrassed and ashamed at my situation- but they weren't out to make me feel like some charity case, Draco; they just wanted to give out of what they had. That's all I'm trying to do for you. I'm not offering you a hand-out, and I certainly don't feel sorry for you. Your parents are dead, yes, and they've left you with nothing, that's a cert... but the one thing you're not is friendless... unless you choose to be. I'm not offering anything more than what one family member would for another. You can pay me back once you get on your feet if it makes you feel any better. All I'm giving you is a chance to start over. The rest will be up to you."
Sirius ended his rant with a final sounding note and sat mutely, measuring his breathing and staring off in some dark space, prepared to wait all night for the right answer if he had to.
No sarcastic retorts coming to mind, again Malfoy clamped his teeth together and sat silently for a long while, thinking. A war was raging in his head between wanting to take Sirius up on his offer, and humiliation at the thought of accepting help from him. The thought of how abruptly everything in his world had changed was unsettling, to say the least. If someone had told him a year ago he might be considering anyone from Harry Potter's entourage a friend of his, he would have laughed in their face... right before beating the hell out of them for the mere suggestion. Now... well now, things were different... circumstances were different. He had lost everything that had made him who he was his entire life. The power and prestige he had once proudly stood to inherit from his father, far from giving him a sense of pride, now left him with a deep sense of disillusionment and shame. People he had once mocked and thought very little of, he was now seeing in a different light. And most fantastical of all, he was sitting here in the rain, by the Quidditch pitch, having a quasi-civil conversation with Sirius Black, ex-resident of Azkaban, and friend and god-parent du jour to Harry-the-Golden-Hero Potter. Feeling enormously unsettled, slightly nauseated, and unsure of the right answer to anything, Malfoy said the first thing that came to mind.
"Touching speech, Black... really. Had me tearing up in a few places."
Sirius stared at him for a moment, eyeing him as if trying to figure him out, before snorting sarcastically.
"That the best you can do?"
"On short notice," Draco answered.
They stared in different directions for quite a while after that, discomfort creeping in with every passing silent moment before Malfoy finally made up his mind. Chewing on the inside of his cheek and inwardly buoying himself up for a feeling of inevitable shame, he finally regarded Sirius with an unreadable expression and made his voice sound as nonchalant as he could.
"Tell me Potter won't be renting the room next to me. Heroism before breakfast gives me the dry heaves."
Sirius studied him for a moment, blankly, before the realisation set in that Malfoy was actually accepting his offer in the only way he knew how. He smiled slightly.
"Harry's got other ideas, I think."
"So he won't be living there?"
"No," said Sirius. "He's getting his own place."
"I suppose he can afford it," sneered Draco uncharitably.
"That's one reason, yes," said Sirius.
Malfoy sat quietly a few seconds more, thinking the situation through before speaking again.
"He'll be visiting though..."
"I imagine so with his father and me living there," Sirius answered dryly.
Malfoy shot him an unpleasant smile. "So I reckon as he's your godson you won't want me telling you what I really think of him."
Sirius gave him a sour smile. "Not unless you want an arm growing out of your arse."
Suppressing a grin, Malfoy attempted to look thoughtful and chewed on his upper lip for a moment before answering.
"I suppose I can live with that."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "The arm in your arse or holding your tongue?"
"Have to get back to you on that."
Laughing aloud, Sirius slapped a hand on the wet ground before standing up and swiping the long, damp, clinging hair from his face.
"All right then, it's settled. I'm heading back in the castle. I'm giving you ten minutes, and if you don't haul your arse inside by that time to let Ginny Weasley know you're back, I'm using any means necessary to drag you back in myself, got it?"
"You'd do that, wouldn't you?" asked Malfoy.
Sirius grinned wolfishly. "With pleasure."
"I thought so."
Smiling slightly to himself, Draco waiting until the sound of Black's long strides had faded away before getting up himself and heading back into the castle.
******************************************************************
"Harry we really shouldn't," said Hermione a short time later, slightly annoyed at the hand Harry insisted on holding over her eyes as he marched her along the hall toward the great double doors leading outside. "I keep telling you Ginny's just as upset as she was earlier-"
"She'll be fine," said Harry resolutely, trying to keep the grin on his face from coming through in his voice. "I'm sure Malfoy'll be back any time now."
"He said he'd be back this afternoon and it's already dark out, isn't it?" said Hermione, trying in vain to pull Harry's hand off of her eyes. "And I don't care what Sirius said, I think it's a long shot Malfoy's somehow outside sitting in the drizzle and deciding not to come in yet. How does he know? And it doesn't sound like Malfoy to sit out in the rain anyway. It's beneath him."
"I'm sure Sirius is right. He usually is when it comes to Malfoy oddly enough. Now stop worrying. No... no Hermione," said Harry, pressing his hand even more firmly against her eyes as she continued to pull on it and marching her even quicker towards the doors. "The whole point of a surprise is that you don't know it's coming."
"I still won't know what's coming, even if you do take your hand from my eyes," said Hermione petulantly. "Why can't I see where you're marching me anyway? I know we're headed outside. I've seen outside, Harry. Discovered Hogwarts has an outdoors a long time ago. Sorry I won't be shocked."
"Funny," said Harry as they reached the doors.
Before they could open them however, a tall, damp figure yanked one open and walked inside, shaking the rain from his hair.
"Oy, Harry!" said Sirius, grinning as he saw them and beginning to saunter past. He watched as Hermione tried pulling Harry's hand from her eyes again and smirked. "Nice night for a walk, isn't it?"
"Nice night for a walk?" Hermione echoed in exasperation, following the sound of his voice. "It's drizzling outside, haven't you seen? I think Harry's lost his marbles. Wait... did you find Malfoy?"
"Yes I did," said Sirius, pausing. "Knew he'd be somewhere out there brooding about life and how it's worthless now he's got nothing. All too familiar."
"Now he's got nothing?" said Hermione, beginning to turn and walk towards his voice. "What d'you mean 'now he's got nothing'? What's happened-"
"You'll find out soon enough so don't worry about it," said Sirius as Harry shot him a quizzical look too.
"But I don't want Ginny sitting up there all alone if Malfoy's not going to-"
"He's on his way back to her now; I've made sure of it," Sirius interrupted bracingly. "Don't you worry on it. Go on and have a nice night."
"But I-"
"Not another word!" said Sirius's fading voice as he walked away from them. "It'll all work out. It's been worked out. Go on with you, then."
Hermione frowned as she listened to Sirius's footsteps fade away. "Well I wonder what that was all..." Twisting in Harry's embrace to face him, she turned her face up to where she imagined his was. "Harry maybe we should go back. If there's anything wrong I don't want to be wandering about outside-"
"Everything is fine, you heard him," said Harry, feeling slightly panicky that Hermione might protest him. "Come on, love. We've had enough drama for a while, haven't we? Let's let them sort it out and let's spend some time together."
"But what if they-"
"You know we've only got tonight and tomorrow left here," said Harry pleadingly. "Come on. Just come with me for a while. Then we can go back and you can worry as much as you want to."
"They might need us now, Harry-" Hermione began again.
"I want to take a walk with you," said Harry, gently turning her back around towards the door, bending down to whisper in her ear, and putting on his most persuasive voice. "I want to spend time with just you, here, before we have to go. The Leaving Feast is tomorrow night, love. Come on. Whatever is going on with Malfoy and Ginny will be going on when we get back too."
Hermione paused for a moment, during which time Harry could feel his heart beating hard enough through his sweater that he was sure she could feel it against the back of her head. Finally...
"Alright then. I do want to take a walk with you. We haven't had much time together lately, have we?"
Harry let out the breath he'd been holding and moved them towards the doors again, pulling one open for her. "No, that's right, we haven't."
"And I do want to see whatever this is you've done," said Hermione, smiling as Harry opened the door for her and crossing her arms over one another in the damp, chill air. "I love surprises, you know."
"You?" said Harry in a scoffing voice as he helped her down the steps. "No you don't. You hate surprises."
"I do not!" said Hermione, beginning to pull Harry's hand from her eyes again so that she might glare at him. Harry held fast though, and she sighed as he marched her along the wet grounds. "I love them! You know how I loved planning that surprise party for Ginny's birthday last year-"
"Yeah, you love them when they aren't aimed at you," said Harry, laughing teasingly at her. "Planning someone else's surprise you're in the know, aren't you? When it's you're own you get impatient, and you know it. Can't control the situation then, can you? But don't worry, I still love you," he added quickly when he saw Hermione's mouth drop open in indignation.
"Well that's a relief," said Hermione dryly as he purposefully continued their marching. "Whatever surprise you've got for me might not turn out half as romantic as you hoped if you've decided you don't love me anymore."
Harry chuckled and leaned down to whisper to her as he led her slightly to the right. "That'll never happen. I love everything about you. I even love when you get impatient... especially when I'm the one who gets to do it to you. You're really cute when you're irritated, you know that don't you?"
Feeling slightly mollified but not sure if she should be, Hermione made a slight noise in the back of her throat somewhere between annoyance and confusion and clamped her lips shut, allowing Harry to lead her where he would.
Harry grinned.
They stopped some time later and Harry finally removed his hand from her eyes, turning her around to look at him. She took a moment to survey where they were.
"The lake," said Hermione in a neutral tone as she swiped the damp from her cheeks. "You've taken me to the lake."
Harry grinned hugely again and nodded, the moonlight glinting off of his wet hair which still managed to stick up all over despite the rain trying to plaster it down.
Hermione drew her eyebrows together and gave Harry a sidelong look. "You know I've seen the lake, don't you Harry? It's very nice taking a walk alone with you, but I'm not sure where the surprise is in all this-"
"Want my jacket?" Harry interrupted, shrugging the black leather off of his shoulders and handing it to her. Hesitating for a moment, Hermione nodded and allowed him to place it over her shoulders. "Bit cold out here. Sorry we didn't go back for yours before I dragged you out."
"I did think that was odd... hang on," said Hermione, feeling something rather heavy and stiff stuck in the inside pocket of his jacket and smiling. "What've you brought?"
Harry continued to grin nervously as she brought it out and looked at it.
"The Daily Prophet?" said Hermione, unrolling it and looking at the date at the top. "How did you manage to get a hold of one of these? McGonagoll said the paper was holding off on their next edition until they could manage to get all the information they'd learnt at the memorial service sorted out..."
"Well," said Harry sheepishly. "That's not exactly true. It did come out yesterday."
Hermione eyed him shrewdly. "I can see that, what with yesterday's date on it... I've been absolutely dying to see how your interview with Rita turned out. I'll murder her if she didn't do it right... What did you do, then? How did you get one? No one else here got theirs, you know."
"Yeah, I know," said Harry, shuffling his feet and for some reason, looking nervously at the ground. "I asked McGonagoll to stop delivery of it to the school... just for one day!" he added, looking up and seeing the look of shock on Hermione's face.
She frowned. "Why would you do that?"
"I had my reasons," Harry answered cryptically.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What reasons might those be?"
"See? I told you. Can't stand surprises-"
"Alright, alright," Hermione interrupted with a sigh. "How did you manage it with Professor McGonagoll then? I'm allowed to know that, aren't I?"
"Pulled some strings," Harry answered her, smirking. "You know... Boy-Who-Lived and all that."
Hermione made a scoffing noise and gave Harry a playful punch on the arm, with which he stumbled and feigned extreme pain. She laughed.
"Don't think for one second I believe McGonagoll allowed you to pull strings because you're the Boy-Who-Lived. She'd sooner put you in detention with Professor Snape! Why did you ask her to-"
"Well go on and read it then," said Harry, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. "You'll find out."
Hermione sent him an inquisitive smile but unrolled the paper and began to read.
****************************************************************************
"Ron, it's positively freezing out here!" Lavender protested as she and Ron walked hurriedly along the wet grounds towards the lake.
"Well you're the one who wanted to come with me," said Ron bracingly. "Besides it's not cold, it's just wet. You won't melt."
Lavender scowled. "The wet is what makes it cold, Ronald. Just tell me what we're doing, would you?"
"I told you, I can't say," said Ron with a slightly panicky edge to his voice. "I can't tell anyone until I've done it, alright? I promised. I'm already late, I can't believe how late I am actually -"
"Well you're the one who wanted to snog in the Room of Requirement," said Lavender, letting go of Ron's hand and pulling her coat more tightly about her frame as she stumbled along after him. "It isn't my fault you wanted to go to a room that didn't sense you required keeping track of the time."
"We're leaving, aren't we? We won't have a chance to snog in there again. And the time wasn't exactly on my mind at the moment," said Ron defensively, his voice breaking a bit as he broke into a trot. "Oh, I'm dead. I'm done for. I've gone and ruined it and I'll never be forgiven."
"Who's got to forgive you?" asked Lavender between laboured breaths as she jogged along beside him. "Just tell me what's going on, will you? You're gone all day looking for a flat with Harry, then you want to snog, then we're running along outside in the rain. We haven't had time to talk at all, have we? I wanted to know if you and Harry found some place to live!"
"Found some places, yeah," said Ron stopping suddenly and letting his eyes scan around the lake. "Don't think we'll be living there, though."
"Oh, were they run down?" asked Lavender, stopping beside him suddenly and trying to catch her breath. "I know some of the flats in Diagon Alley need repairs but I've always thought the old wood added character. My sister and her husband say-"
"No," said Ron. "Not run down... just too crowded. Harry and I'll need some space between us, you know."
"Oh... yeah..." said Lavender, slightly confused. "I don't suppose you want a flat so small you'll be living right on top of one another. But Ron, you know beggars can't be choosers. You don't exactly have a job yet so your money situation's going to be tight for a while... not like Harry I suppose."
Ron stopped scanning to frown down at her. "I've told you already, Dad's got me a starting position at the Ministry in Muggle Affairs. It doesn't matter I don't really want to work there. It's a job and that's all I need right now. I'll move up."
Lavender looked sceptical. "Well I don't know. It seems an awful long way to climb moving from Muggle Affairs to Unspeakable," but at Ron's angry look, she added, "But I know you'll do it! I know it's what you want and I know you'll get there. Yes, you're right. Muggle Affairs will pay the bills, and you'll move up from there."
"That's right," said Ron, looking slightly pacified and scanning the lake area again. "Everyone starts somewhere, that's what Dad says. Meanwhile I can be in training for Unspeakable... sort of learn from them what it's all about."
"Ron, they're Unspeakables," said Lavender, "they can't tell you what it's about."
"I know I just meant I'll find out what it takes for me to become one, that's all! Look, we'll talk on it later, alright? Right now I've really got to... Oy! Alright," he said grabbing her hand and walking very swiftly again, "There's where we've got to go."
"Over there?" said Lavender, squinting her eyes to where Ron had just pointed. "But, Ron isn't that-"
"Yeah it is, and I really don't want him pissed at me at the moment so let's get there quick, shall we?"
"But... but they look like they're spending time alone. I don't think they want us barging in on-"
"We won't be barging in on them, just trust me," said Ron moving even more quickly and dragging Lavender along behind him. "You'll see in a minute, alright?"
Lavender sighed the sigh of the weary and allowed herself to be led along again. "Alright, whatever you say."
************************************************************
Harry stood nervously chewing on the side of his thumb and scanning the grounds over the top of Hermione's head as she continued reading aloud, getting progressively more nervous as she began to reach the end of the article.
" 'It had to be done,' Potter continues with a solemn look. 'It wasn't heroics. I didn't do anything more than anyone else did out there. At least I came away from it alive, there were plenty out there who didn't and were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to see Voldemort and his followers didn't win. But the bravest of all was Professor Dumbledore. He did something for me I never expected from him and I never did anything to deserve. He jumped in front of me and let himself take a sword that was meant for me. Didn't even hesitate.'
I can see Potter is struggling not to cry at this moment, tears filling those beautiful green eyes, and I give him a moment to compose himself before he continues.
'I don't think I'll ever be able to fully fathom why he did that'..."
"Oh Harry," said Hermione, looking up from the article with a tearful gaze and then noticing Harry's stance and expression. "You've got no reason to be nervous, you know. You did beautifully."
Harry stopped chewing on his thumb long enough to claw a hand through his hair and scoff at what Hermione had just read. "I wasn't about to cry there, you know. Merlin, I hate it when she does that. I told Rita to hold off on the embellishments but I guess she just can't help herself, can she? Whatever sells the paper. Anyway, go on."
Hermione nodded and continued reading. " 'I never knew all of what he was thinking anyway. Professor Dumbledore was a mysterious man. But he was the bravest and most selfless that I know and he's done more for the Wizarding World in the time he had on this earth than I think anyone will ever know. He stood up against ridicule and slander and continued to trying selling the message that Voldemort was alive even when it looked like everyone hated him... He's the most astounding man I've ever known, and the world is better because he was in it. I'll miss him greatly. The world will miss him... But everyone out there gave their best. It was a bloody nightmare. Death everywhere, curses flying, swords and arrows, dead bodies on the ground to fall over if you weren't careful... Even in all that there wasn't one person on our side who ran from the battle once it started. There were Ministry members, and Aurors mixed with Professors from Hogwarts and even students, and each one of them fought as if they'd always been trained to handle it. They were scared to death but they stood their ground. We never would have won if it hadn't been for them... if it hadn't been for the fact that they refused not to fight for what they believed in. The Wizarding World owes them their lives and their freedom. I hope they'll always be remembered for the heroes they are.'
Potter sits quietly for a moment before continuing.
'And I owe my best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, my own life. If they hadn't refused to listen to me when I told them not to help me with Voldemort, I probably wouldn't have made it.' They've always been there for me. Even when everyone else thought I was crazy and wanted nothing to do with me, they never left my side. They've put their lives on the line for me more times that I can count."
Hermione began to cry. Harry came to stand behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Go on love. Every bit of it is true."
" 'I love them both more than anyone else. I won't ever be able to repay them for what they did for me out there. The battle was over for them, and they could have stayed back and kept safe but they wouldn't hear of it. They broke through the defence I had raised to keep them out and helped me even when I didn't want their help. I owe them everything.'
Potter sits silent for a while and I have no choice but to let him. I can see he is thinking on what his two best friends mean to him, and on what the battle has cost all of them. He has hit on every facet of what the war meant, what it accomplished, and the high price he, his friends, and all who fought there, paid for our freedom from Voldemort and his tyranny.' "
"Oh Harry," Hermione sobbed, lowering the paper and wiping her eyes as she stared out at the lake. Harry rested his chin on her head and hugged her from behind. "You did a marvellous job. I can't have thought you could do any better. And what you said about Ron and I..."
"I meant it all. I don't know where I'd be if not for the two of you," Harry remarked quietly, but then stopped hugging her from behind to pull the hand holding the paper back up to eye level. "But go on. There's a bit more to it."
"What?" Hermione raised the paper to her eyes again and wondered how she had missed where it said the article was continued on a later page. "Oh, how did I miss that? I reckon it just sounded final at the end there. Alright."
She rifled the paper to page twenty two, smoothed it out, found where the article was continued and began to read again.
" ' As for me, Rita Skeeter, star reporter for the Daily Prophet, I can only sit silently as well and think on what they did for all of us. We will never be able to repay those who have gone. But those who remain, I hope we will never forget their sacrifice, and never forget how close we came to living in a much altered world.
Harry Potter has a final word on returning to normal life, and to a better life, that he asked me, Rita Skeeter, to make certain to print. As we've been fast friends going on three years, I find myself hard pressed to refuse him anything, and indeed feel I owe him something personally for what he's done. Here is his message:'
"I can only hope that everyone who went through the battle will eventually remember how to live again. Myself, I feel like finally I can actually begin. I have one person in particular to thank for that, and that's my best friend, and girlfriend, Hermione Granger. She's given me a reason to go on every day of my life since I met her. It's her above all I want to live for, and I know I fell in love with her from the moment I clapped eyes on her when we were kids, heading to our first year at Hogwarts. She's been everything to me since that day, and I can't help but hope she'll keep being my everything for the rest of our lives. That's why I've decided to ask her to marry me on the night she reads this, and I hope she'll accept."
Article by Rita Skeeter, reporter.' "
Hermione began to shake. Tears streamed down her face as she slowly lowered the paper hardly caring any more that the rain had soaked her clothes enough that they were uncomfortably stuck to her body. A sudden light from above, something streaming brighter than the moon suddenly blazed overhead, and Hermione looked up. Words were etched in a soft pink glow across the sky.
I love you as wide and high and deep as my soul can reach for the end of life.
I love you as passionately as I used to grieve before you.
I love you to the end of every day's most quiet need.
I love you with a love I'd thought lost with my childhood faith.
I love you with the breath, smiles and tears of all my life.
And if God chooses, I'll love you even more after dying.
Slowly she turned around to see that Harry was no longer standing, but was kneeling on the wet ground in front of her, with a small box in his hand.
"Oh... oh my god."
"Everything up there is how I feel about you," said Harry quietly, his voice shaking almost imperceptibly. "I love you.... that seems like an overused phrase, but it's not... because those three words hold my life in them. I love you. I... love... you. I want you to marry me. I don't want to wait any longer. Please marry me, Hermione."
"Oh Harry," Hermione sobbed. "How.. how did you-"
"Told McGonagoll everything," he smiled. "She agreed to have paper delivery stopped to the school until you could read it first."
"Why... why did you cover my eyes when-"
"Decoy. Throw you off the trail. Didn't want you guessing, did I?"
Hermione shook her head, feeling bewildered. "But... but what about you and Ron.. today.. looking at flats-"
"Wasn't for me and Ron. It was for us. You and me."
"Us!" Hermione gasped, mindless of the fact that Harry was still on the ground holding out the ring. "You tricked me! You and Ron- you tricked me!"
"Yep," said Harry, looking inordinately proud of himself.
"And Rita?" asked Hermione, her head spinning. "I don't know how on earth you got her to print-"
"Owed me, didn't she?" said Harry, grinning wickedly. "After I stuck up for her with McGonagoll she wasn't going to refuse me anything."
"And... and the words up there?" she asked, pointing a shaky finger at the softly glowing poem still blazing overhead. "Those words up there... you didn't... you weren't able to- I mean I didn't see you- and I would have-"
"Got Ron to do it. He's probably off snogging Lavender now. I'm sure that's why he was late in the first place. I'll kill him later."
"Oh and the ring! Oh! Where did you... you didn't just pick that out today as well-"
"This is my mum's ring. Dad gave it to me at Christmas. Slipped it to me without anyone noticing."
"Oh Harry!" Hermione sobbed even louder, her hands over her mouth, muffling her words. "Harry your Mum's ring! Oh it's so beautiful!"
Harry smiled patiently at her. "Want to wear it?"
"Oh Harry! Yes! Yes, of course I want to wear- yes, YES, I'll marry you! Of course! Oh Harry!"
She dropped to her knees on the ground beside him and Harry held her trembling hand steady so that he could slip it on. One larger than average diamond sparkled in the moonlight on a plain white gold band. To Hermione, it was perfection.
"Don't think I've ever heard you say 'oh Harry' more times in one setting," he said as he grabbed both of her hands. "Not that I'm complaining, mind."
Hermione, gazing mesmerized at the ring on her finger finally registered what Harry had said to her. She looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Don't tease me, I'm in shock!"
"Good shock or bad shock?"
For an answer, Hermione suddenly launching herself forward to land on top of Harry in the grass. "I love you too," she murmured to him, planting a warm kiss on his lips. "I love you so much I can hardly bear it. Yes, I want to marry you. I've wanted to marry you for so long I can't remember when I began wanting it."
Harry rolled her underneath him and began kissing her in earnest, their feelings coupled with the frustration of not spending enough time together lately quickly turning it into more than what was appropriate for what might become a public place at any moment, however unlikely.
"Harry... we're... we're outside..."
"And?" Harry breathed, tonguing her ear lobe and moving downward towards her neck, making her shiver.
"And someone might see us," Hermione hissed as he slid a hand underneath her jumper to rub the smooth skin of her belly.
"No one out here to see us," said Harry absently, moving another hand to stroke the outside of her thigh.
"Wasn't Ron just-"
"I'm sure I told him not to stick around. He wouldn't want to see this anyway. Probably send him over the edge."
Hermione sighed, sliding her hands under Harry's own jumper to smooth over the muscled planes of his back, and around toward his chest. Harry shivered beneath her touch, and she smiled.
"I suppose a bit longer won't hurt."
"Won't hurt a bit," said Harry, nuzzling her neck.
"But tomorrow... Oh Harry, everyone's going to find out now the paper will be delivered," said Hermione suddenly, a mixture of feelings at the notion of everyone finding out the boy-who-lived was now engaged to Hermione Granger making her slightly anxious. "We won't have a moment's peace, you know that don't you?"
Harry lifted his head to look at her and grinned, his crooked smile combined with unruly hair and a jumper pulled halfway up his abdomen making Hermione's heartbeat quicken considerably.
"I want everyone to know," he answered with a wicked wiggle of his eyebrows. "I want them all to know I'm engaged to you. I'll be the envy of every bloke around."
"Rubbish," Hermione scoffed, smiling. "I'll have murderous females everywhere searching me out, wands drawn and ready. There'll be no forgiveness for me now I've taken you off the market."
"Technically it's me whose taken you off the market," said Harry. "Anyway I don't want to think on that now. I just want to spend all night with you. We can worry about everyone's explosive reactions tomorrow."
Feeling happier than she'd ever felt in her entire life, Hermione nodded. "Alright."
Any more words were forgotten in a blur of falling rain, hands and whispered promises.
**********************************************************************
A/N: Next and final chapter, the wedding and the end. :0) Thanks for never giving up on me guys. You're all the best! I hope you enjoyed this one, however long it was in coming. By the way, the beautiful piece of poetry used in this chapter is by the very late, very wonderful poet, Walt Whitman, who rocks my ever loving world. Much love, Walt. You were everything in a writer I could ever aspire to be. <3 <3