I'll Be Seeing you
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
Author's Note: Here is your epilogue, folks! Hopefully there should be less crying with this chapter, but I make no promises. Also, due to (a miniscule amount of) foul language in this chapter/epilogue (nothing not in any of the HP Movies) I upped the rating to PG, just to be safe.
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The mediwitches waited patiently outside the door as Harry held his dead wife in his arms, sobbing over her body. As they heard his strangled pleas to have it all be a dream, begging his dead wife to come back to him, they all cried silently to themselves for his loss. Most of them being a good five years younger than him at least, they had all grown up hearing about the famous Harry Potter and how strong he was. When they were at Hogwarts they had learned of his victory over Voldemort. How he was so brave.
But this man was not the man they had grown up hearing about. This man was broken and alone, and their hearts went out to him.
About an hour later Harry calmly exited the room, his cheeks stained from tears and his eyes red and puffy. He stood in a doorway for a moment, looking at these women who didn't even know him or Hermione but cared anyway. Harry took a moment to compose himself, and then spoke, his voice cracking, "Um, I have to go talk to some family before the news reaches the papers tomorrow." He looked up at them. "Will she be okay if I leave?"
The oldest witch, in her early fifties or sixties approximately, smiled kindly at Harry, patting him on the back, "I will take care of her personally, Sir."
Harry returned the smile, though not really feeling it, "Thank you." Harry turned and headed towards the door when suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Harry turned around to face the mediwitch who had gone to get Harry and then had told him how much time Hermione had. The young woman was crying now.
"Mr. Potter," she paused and sniffed, "I am really sorry for your loss. If…if there's anything I can do, please just let me know."
Harry studied the girl for a moment, and upon looking into her eyes he saw the sincerity of her words, rather than the empty words of a fan girl. He nodded and replied, "I appreciate that." With that he exited the hospital.
Harry apparated directly to Ron's home, but it was well over ten minutes before he worked up the courage to knock on the door. When he finally did, it was young Tim who greeted him, Luna coming up beside him, pulling on her bathrobe. "Yes, Harry?" She asked.
"Could I speak to Ron alone for a moment?" Harry felt this was something Ron deserved to hear first. Harry owed it to him.
Luna nodded, clearly being able to tell the magnitude and seriousness of the situation. "Of course. You can go sit in the living room. Come with me Tim." Tim reluctantly followed his mother as Harry sat down. A few moments later Ron came in.
"What is it that could not wait until morning…Harry," Ron saw Harry's worn face and blood red eyes, "Merlin, what happened?"
Harry stood and motioned for Ron to sit. When he did, Harry took a few deep breaths before speaking, "Hermione…Hermione…"
Ron looked up at him, "What is it? Did you two have a fight?"
"No. Hermione…she's…she's…"
"She's what?" Ron was searching Harry's broken face for an answer.
"She's dead, Ron."
Young Timothy sat in his bedroom with his mother when suddenly he heard his father yelling in rage and pain. What did Uncle Harry do to him? Luna immediately stood and moved to leave the room, but when Tim tried to turn and follow her, she turned around suddenly, "Timothy, stay here, please." Timothy knew well enough that this was not a time to question her command.
Tim waited a few moments after she left until he slowly crept to the door and looked through the small crack. There he saw something that scared him. His father was there, crying without abandon, along with Uncle Harry, as he crouched on the floor, holding onto the couch and Harry's hand to stabilize himself. Never having seen the two men he modeled after most in his life cry, the young man was shaken. Timothy saw his mother walk up and ask Harry what happened, and when Harry quietly told her she gasped and looked at her husband, taking him into her arms, sobbing with him as well.
What could have possibly made them act like this?
Harry regretfully left Ron and Luna about an hour after his arrival, after Ron had calmed down and Harry explained what had happened, also telling him the things that Hermione had instructed. Leaving was difficult, but he had a few more trips to make.
Ginny's reaction was different. At first she simply kept denying it, telling Harry he must be mistaken, and then proceeded to go into a state of shock, tears slowly falling from her eyes. Hermione's boss had surprisingly been very devastated, rambling on about how mean she had been to Hermione just that morning, and how she had found the missing reports, intending to correct the mistake with Hermione the next day. Harry gave her the list of things Hermione had instructed to tell her and then left with the promise of informing her with funeral arrangements. The rest of the Weasleys were rather similar to Ron or Ginny, with the exception of Mrs. Weasley, who comforted Harry rather than grieve herself as Mr. Weasley shook his head as silent tear fell from his eyes in the corner, repeating that it just wasn't right. Harry didn't bother disagreeing with him.
Perhaps the hardest trip to make was the one to Hogwarts. Harry gathered Hagrid and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. As he struggled the through the words, Harry felt his strength shatter upon seeing the three strongest people he had known has a child and teenager cry. Professor Dumbledore struggled to maintain his posture as he cried and comforted Professor McGonagall, who was positively balling, Hagrid going through the tissues by then dozen. Without forethought, Harry requested the funeral be held at Hogwarts, a wish that was granted instantaneously.
After strolling around the grounds a bit, seeing Hermione's young face everywhere he went, Harry apparated home, and it was there that Harry found his most difficult challenge yet. It was there that Harry faced his and Hermione's empty apartment, and it was there that Harry faced the reality that Hermione was never coming home. Unable to set foot into their bedroom, Harry went into the guest room, and tossed and turned on the bed for hours, allowing himself to cry once in awhile, until he passed out from exhaustion a few mere hours before sunrise.
The next day or two went by in a complete blur. The wizarding nation went into a grieving period as Harry made funeral arrangements as well as burial arrangements. Hermione was to be buried right by his own plot, next to his parents. Professor Dumbledore made arrangements so Hermione's muggle relatives could attend as well without revealing the wizarding world.
Hermione had left everything to Harry in her will except for a few mementoes. Mrs. Weasley received Hermione's fruit pie recipe, which had been her grandmother's. Ginny received Hermione's enchanted mirror from Hogwarts (Ginny told Harry that in school she had used it more than Hermione). Hermione left fifty galleons to Dobby and Winky the house elves, along with two pairs of socks that she knitted herself. All of the professors at Hogwarts received Hermione's old class notebooks, with all of her notes for each of their classes. Lastly, Ron received Hermione's very first copy of Hogwarts: A History as well as a feather (neither Ron nor Harry understood the latter until Tim walked in and said "Hey, that looks like one of those feathers that we levitated at Hogwarts last year!" promptly bringing both men to tears and causing a trip down memory lane).
Finally the day of the funeral came, and when Harry woke up in the guest bed, he found himself not wanting to get up, telling himself that if he just stayed in bed, he wouldn't have to face the reality, or face all of the people's sympathetic stares. He was so set on staying in bed that it wasn't until Ron and Luna arrived that he was finally convinced to leave it.
"Still in bed?" Ron asked, telling Luna and Tim to go ahead without them.
Harry nodded, "Seems logical enough."
Ron shrugged and sat on the chair next to the bed, "I know what you mean. I'd still be in bed myself if it weren't for Luna."
Harry smiled halfheartedly, "So are you here to get me out of bed, then?"
Ron shrugged and shook his head, "Nope. I figure that's up to you. If you think it's best that you stay here, by all means, do so. All I'm going to tell you is that this is a one-time thing, and if you are going to miss it, be sure that you wont regret it later, okay?"
Harry sighed and sat up, setting his feet on the floor, "I don't want to say goodbye to her, Ron, because that means admitting that she's really gone."
Ron frowned sadly, a tear glistening in one eye, "She is gone mate, and you already said goodbye. The fact is, you don't want to let her go, and, if truth be told, neither do I."
Harry swiped at his own eye nonchalantly, "I shouldn't have to let her go. I should still have her, damnit!" Harry said, standing up. All of the anger he had held in for the past days was finally coming lose, and Ron seemed to get that.
"We all should still have her! The fact is, she's gone, Harry! There isn't anything either of us can do to change that, unless you happen to have a time-turner on you!" Ron immediately regretted saying that as Harry's eyes began to spark with an idea. "No, Harry…"
"Why not? It makes sense, doesn't it? I think we can all agree how unfair her death was!" Harry began to dress in his clothes for the funeral with new motivation.
"I'm not saying it was fair!" Ron yelled to Harry from outside the closet, "But you can't just go and undo what fate clearly decided was right, Harry! You can't bring people back from the dead! You couldn't do it for you parents or Sirius and you can't do it for Hermione!"
Harry opened the door, nearly hitting Ron, "Yes I can! She's all I had left, Ron! How can I possible let her go?"
"The same way we all can," Ron said quietly, sitting on the bed. "I know it's harder for you, and I would hate to be in your shoes right now, but you have to let her go."
Harry sat down next to Ron, "I don't want to."
Ron patted his friend on the back, "I know."
"She should still be here. I should be able to hold her in my arms."
Ron shrugged slightly, "I don't disagree with you. The only thing I can tell you is that you were at least lucky in one way."
Harry turned, "How's that?"
Ron lifted the corner of his mouth. "You got to say good bye. I mean, I know life's pretty much handed you crap on a platter, but if you think about it, it's like they fates knew you loved each other so much that they just had to let you say good bye. That's how strong your love was."
Harry tilted his head. "It wasn't enough to save her."
Ron shrugged again, "I hate to admit it, but I don't think any love is."
Just then Luna popped in the room. "Ready to go?"
Ron looked to Harry, who shrugged, "Yeah, I think so."
The funeral was lovely, a perfect tribute to Hermione. The teachers each came up and said something, even Professor Snape. A few of the Weasleys came up, including the twins, who told the story of Hermione yelling at them for testing their products on first years. Luna gave a speech as well as Hermione's parents and a few childhood friends. Some of their classmates stood and spoke as well. Finally the time for Harry to speak came, and he realized that he hadn't even thought of what he would say.
He walked up to the small podium set up next to the casket slowly, laying his hand on it gently and whispering to Hermione, "I'll to my best, hon. Just give me the strength to get through this."
"Hi," Harry addressed everyone awkwardly, "I didn't really think of what I would say. To be honest, I didn't even know if I was going to come." He paused, gathering his thoughts.
"I really loved my wife," Harry felt a lump rise to his throat, as well as tears come to his eyes, "I still love her. She was my reason for staying alive all of this time. Whenever some form of evil was after me during our school years, whether it be Voldemort or Professor Snape," everyone laughed softly, Harry even swore he saw Snape smile, "Hermione was always the one who kept me going. Her genius saved my butt more times than I can count.
"I remember how scared I was before I asked her to marry me. When I finally asked her, I stuttered so badly that she didn't even understand what I was saying until I finally pulled the ring out of my coat pocket. I don't remember much after that. Somehow the ring was on her finger and suddenly she was kissing me, and I knew then that everything would be okay.
"We used to talk about a lot of things. Our friends, family, and growing old together. Most people never knew this but Hermione really wanted children," Harry wiped a tear from his cheek and Ron stepped up and handed him a handkerchief. Harry nodded in gratitude, "We were actually trying before…before it happened.
"In those last moments before she died, my wife was so selfless, telling me some last minute things for people, and wanting me to let everyone know just how much she loved them." Harry felt as if he couldn't go on, but then felt a sense of power come from within himself and continued, "She worried about how different people would cope with it, and it wasn't till those last moments that she finally confessed that she was scared.
"Hermione never really made any official last requests, aside from asking that Ginny use different bridesmaids dresses," a few people laughed again, and Harry smiled through his tears as he now held on to the podium, his knuckles turning white, "So I'm going to make a request for her. Hermione spent every day she had making the most of her life, whether it was by helping her friends, studying in school, saving my life or Ron's, or just by doing those things that she had to do, complaining almost never. If Hermione was still here with us, she would still do all of those things, but she isn't, so I'm asking you to. We could all be a little more like Hermione.
"I guess that's all I really need to say," Harry said after a moment. He turned to the casket and slowly bent over, kissing the wood, whispering, "Thanks for the help in the middle, I nearly lost it. I'm really going to miss you, Hermione. I'll try and be the man you want me to be, okay? I'll try. I love you, Hermione." Harry patted the wood softly and stood, going back to his seat.
Only Harry, the Weasleys, and Hermione's parents would be going to the burial site, so they stayed awhile to talk with people. Harry, Ron, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood in a line as people came up to express their sympathies. They had finally reached the end of the line when a familiar young woman came up to Harry, her cheeks tear-stained. Ron and the Grangers walked away to the Portkey to the burial site as Harry shook hands with the woman.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Potter," When she spoke Harry recognized her as the mediwitch from St. Mungo's. "I was there when they went to pick her up, and she kept telling us to get you. I wasn't really sure what to do. It was my first day at work." Harry laughed lightly at the irony.
"What a first day."
The witch nodded, smiling just barely. "I only knew her for a second and I felt like I knew her for a lifetime. She told me to go get you and that she refused to let anything happen to her before she got the chance to see you again. None of the doctors thought she would make it out of surgery, but I remember that as she spoke to me that somehow I knew she just wouldn't let go without you by her side. "
Harry nodded, smiling a little, his heart ripped open, "That sounds like my Hermione."
The witch nodded. "Well, I just wanted to say how sorry I am, and I hope things get better for you."
Harry sighed and shook her hand, "Me too."
The witch walked off and Harry went to the Portkey to the burial site.
Harry walked into his apartment later, feeling stronger than he had that morning. He still didn't feel as if he had let her go, but he felt as though he could survive. Reaching into his pocket to pull out his keys, Harry grabbed the sheet of paper from the night of Hermione's death, with the list of everything she had told him.
Harry walked into their room for the first time and opened Hermione's bottom dresser drawer, just as she had told him, and found what looked like a diary. Harry looked to the paper and turned the combination knob…3…29…9. Harry opened it and realized what it was.
The diary was enchanted to never run out, and in it was a letter to him for everyday since the night of their first date, four years after leaving Hogwarts. Harry opened it and read.
Dear Harry,
Tonight was our first date. I'll admit I was scared at first, I didn't know what this would do to our friendship, which is so important to me. But as soon as you gave me those roses a part of me knew that everything would be okay. I no longer feared what would be lost, but dreamed of what would be gained. I saw us getting married, and growing old together. Having children and raising them to be the very best they can be. I dreamed of visiting Ron and Luna on the weekends, and our children playing together.
Someday we will have all of those things, Harry, and I can't wait until we do. For now, I will take each day with you as it is, a precious gift.
I love you,
Hermione
Harry turned to the next page, not bothering with a drying spell for the tear drops on the one before it. With each letter Harry laughed and cried, taking a walk down memory lane, and feeling for the first time as if Hermione was with him again. Finally, and with sadness, Harry came to Hermione's last entry, the morning before her death. Taking a deep breath, Harry read.
My husband, Harry,
I just looked at the date, and realized this is the twentieth anniversary of the day we met. Twenty years, isn't it amazing? I feel as if we've been through it all.
After all of this time it still never ceases to amaze me how much I love you. I wake up in the morning, and my first thought is you, whether it's the warmth of your sleeping body next to me, or the smell of your shaving cream wafting in from the bathroom. I think of the boy you once were, the man you are, and the man you will become, and I feel proud and accomplished just to be standing beside you. I woke up this morning, and I felt invincible, as if our love could survive anything, even death. Somehow I know that we will be one of those couples that love one another even after passing. However, I have made a decision.
Harry Potter, I demand that I get to die first. I realize that this is horribly selfish of me, for you have lost so much in your life, but this is my only request of you. You can have whatever you want, all I ask of is you is this. I know, I should be careful what I wish for, but I can not help it, for the thought of you ever leaving me tears me up inside. I confess, I don't think I could live without you, Harry. You are my world as well as my home, and without you I would be lost. (Also, if you die first you will never get to read any of this, and that would make me sad as well as annoyed to have wasted such an enormous amount of time.)
I'll be leaving for business tonight. I will be back tomorrow afternoon, but I have a meeting in New York tomorrow, and I hate to travel across the ocean twice in one day. To make up for my absence tonight I bought you a pint of your favorite ice cream, and will give it to you when I leave. I always love to watch the way your eyes light up when I give it to you. It is in those moments that I get to glimpse the child that I never met and that you never got to be. I get to see you as an innocent boy, before the world placed its burdens upon your shoulders (mind you, I thought you handled all of that burden rather nicely, and it is one of the things I truly respect about you).
I fear that I am rambling, so I suppose I will wrap this up. Goodbye for now, my love.
All my heart and soul (as always),
Hermione
Harry closed the book and locked it once more, placing it back in its rightful place. After pulling himself together for a moment or two, Harry got up and went into the kitchen, opening the icebox. Smiling and laughing through his tears, Harry pulled out the pint of ice cream, and read Hermione's neat scribble on the small piece of paper secured to it.
"To keep you company when I am gone. I love you, and I'll be seeing you.
Hermione"
Fifty years later Harry Potter died, and when he was buried, he was buried with only two things: a photo album, containing pictures of his parents and friends, and an empty pint of ice cream.
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I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through.
In that small cafe;
The park across the way;
The children's carosel;
The chestnut trees;
The wishin' well.
I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.
I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.
I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.
I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.
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A/N: Well, there you have it! I hope you enjoyed my little story. I just couldn't give you guys a sad ending twice, I'm just too nice (and addicted to fluff, what can I say). Those lyrics at the end are from the song, "I'll Be Seeing You" which is an old song that is in the movie The Notebook. The song was not my inspiration for the story, but the title works, so I stole it, and I thought the lyrics fit, so I posted them at the end.
Anyway, please please review and tell me what you think, even if you thought it sucked (so long as you tell me why please!) Since I said "take 30 seconds to review" after "A Beautiful Morning" and had complaints that it took longer, I shall change my statement.
Please take 45 seconds to review! (It encourages me to write more *nudge nudge wink wink* he he…)
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