Much More Important

padfoot_puppyeyes

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 10/08/2005
Last Updated: 29/11/2005
Status: completed

This is a series of instances where the trio decide that some things are irriplacable. ...The hate he felt right then towards the creature that had killed his parents and so many others paled in comparison to the love he felt for his best friends. His family, his hope, his support, his…life. And the darkness he had been falling into was quickly replaced by light. Hate alone wasn’t enough to keep him going. But love was... This is the sixth in a series of moments that show the value and strength of the trio's friendship!

Chapters

1. MM1

2. MM2

3. To Hermione

4. MMI4

5. MMI5

6. MMI6

7. The Perfect Ending

1. MM1

AN- This is just going to be some random moments that seemed like good times to write about to explain the unexplainable relationship between the three members of the trio. I have the first three done, and will try to update quickly. This will probably have about five moments in all, depending on how you, the reads, react. So do me and yourselves a favor and REVIEW!

Disclaimer-

My only cash comes from babysitting,

Which I have to do, when I could be sitting,

At home writing up new fics

I don't just write these things for kicks!

I'm not paid in money, and all I ask of you

Is that after you read, you kindly review.

Ron sighed for what seemed to him like the millionth time as he watched his mother putt about the small kitchen in silence. Every once in a while he would catch a word or two of the many she was muttering under her breath while cleaning the remaining mess left behind from her oldest son's marriage earlier that day.

From what he could make of her ramblings, she was wondering to herself how her first three sons could have been so successful at both school and life, while her younger three were all Hogwarts dropouts. Frowning, Ron let her carry on for a while about the injustice of it all before finally saying, “I take it you don't like the idea?”

“Ronald Weasley, you will not go chasing after some far-fetched idea as your brothers did. They only managed to do so well because of luck and help. You can't just quit school to go off chasing fantasies that may never come true!”

“MUM!” Ron gasped, appalled that she could even think he would leave school for such a simple reason. He wouldn't be doing this if it didn't have to be done. “How could you even think I would do that? Do you honestly think that I'm stupid enough to believe that I could make it in the real world by myself?”

“Well, if you're dropping out of school, I shouldn't have to answer that question!” Molly Weasley was irate, and normally Ron would know that now would be a good time to back off. Normally, however, the problem wasn't such a big issue, and Ron wasn't about to back down on this one without a fight, as much as he might just want to agree with his mother and return to the semi-safety and normality that came with Hogwarts.

But it wouldn't be worth it to return to school without Hermione there to nag him to study. It wouldn't be worth it without Harry there to make the year interesting and laugh at Hermione with him.

And suddenly returning to Hogwarts seemed even less appealing.

But just as Ron opened his mouth to once again argue, a his exhausted father appeared in the fireplace, then walked slowly towards the table. He had been at his son's wedding only to be called away in the middle of the reception to take care of another attack.

At the sight of his father's tired face, and the horror he felt when learning that several dozen people had died in that day's attack, Ron determination only rose.

Sensing the thick tension in the room, and perhaps hearing his wife's irritated mutterings, Ron's father asked him what was happening. Before Ron could get a word in edgewise, his mother snapped,

“Ronald's been talking about not returning to Hogwarts for his last year of school.” In satisfaction, she watched as her husband reacted just as she had to the news; with anger.

“You mean…Ron's been looking into dropping out of school?”

“It wouldn't really be dropping out-“ Ron tried to argue. Unfortunately, his mother fought this by saying,

“Oh, then what would you call leaving school before graduation to enter the real world?” She asked bitterly, a stormy look on her face. Ron clenched his fists in anger and opened his mouth to give an angry retort when Fred and George flooed in from the fireplace, dusting themselves off as they surveyed the scene in the kitchen.

“Going into business, following your dreams and growing up, that's what we call it.” Fred answered hotly, a scowl automatically on his face. “Honestly, mum, it's been a year. I thought we'd gotten past this.”

“Oh, this has nothing to do with you two.” Ron's mum said, placing her hands on her hips in an intimidating fashion.

“So mind your own business.” Ron added, proud of himself for getting a word in until George threw his own words back at him.

“At least we have a business to mind! Are you the son dropping out of Hogwarts she was talking about?”

“Of course he is.” Fred muttered to his twin, interrupting him mid-speech. “He's the only son in Hogwarts that she has left.” Both of them grinned at each other in some sort of private joke before Fred continued where his twin had left off, asking, “And what store are you going to run once you get out of school, little Ronnikens? There are only so many chess sets you can sell.”

“This is much more important than chess!” Ron argued, nearly yelling. At this point, he was pretty sure his stubby fingernails were nearly making his palms bleed with how hard he was pushing them into his skin, but it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his control. If he wanted to be treated like an adult, than he'd have to act like one. “And it's much more important than your stupid prank shop!”

“Why Fred,” George began, looking at his twin in mock-horror. “I believe our little brother is claiming that he has something to do that is worth more than our pride and joy!”

“It does sound that way, doesn't it George? They just grow up too fast, they do.” Fred replied, then turned to face Ron with an amused expression. “No offense is meant by this, baby brother, but what could you possibly have to do that is more important than school and our business?” His brother's tone was mocking, but Ron noticed that his mother hadn't said anything yet. She and his father both were waiting for his answer, anticipating it as much as the twins were. Through all of the tension and stress in the room, Hermione and Harry poked their heads through the door.

“Is everything all right in here?” Harry asked, his voice mild. “We thought we heard yelling.” It wasn't until later that Fred and George noticed that no one had been yelling, and Harry and Hermione had appeared at the perfect time. They had probably been waiting outside the door the entire time, Ron thought affectionately, waiting to see if he would do all right talking to his parents on his own.

“Everything's fine. I'm ready to get going, are you two?” Somehow, Fred and George felt like they were almost missing a part of the conversation. It was almost like the trio could talk between each other without actually saying anything, and absently Molly Weasley wondered at how the bond between her youngest son and his two best friends was past even the point of a husband and wife bond, or the telepathic bond twins seemed to share. Her Ron and the two children he had befriended and she had basically adopted as her own were closer than words could explain.

“We're nearly ready.” Hermione answered for them, smiling softly. “Just give us a few minutes.”

Ron knew that those were a few minutes his friends were giving him to say goodbye privately and he smiled gratefully, nodding. Both of his friends disappeared once again and the kitchen was silent for moments afterward.

Finally, Ron broke the silence by turning to his mother and saying, “I know you aren't happy with this, and I'm sorry, but it's something that has to be done. Harry has to finish this.” The words, `and I need to be with him' didn't need to be said, because they were already understood. “I know that I need to graduate, but…some things are just much more important.”

Ron hugged his crying parents and joined his friends, who were waiting for him.

As much as Molly Weasley wanted to hold him back, she knew that her youngest son had a large part in the war that was being waged all around them. She watched him leave with Harry and Hermione, and knew as soon as she saw the look of relief on the young savior of the wizarding world's face that her son was right. Some things were just much more important.

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2. MM2

AN- all right people, here's part two of the `Much More Important' series. I'm sorry it took so long, but I still haven't finished my summer homework for Honor's English and I've been busy. Hope you like.

As she tried to answer all of the questions being fired at her, Hermione wondered again what she was doing sitting in a hospital bed with journalists from several different wizarding radio stations and newspaper's all around the world.

It had been five months since Dumbledore's death, two months since school had begun with them in it, and a week since a massive and poisonous snake had bitten her. Nagini hadn't been easy to track, and she'd been even harder to kill, but to Hermione this was the hardest part; waiting in the hospital bed, unable to do much more than lay there and answer questions.

She'd awoken for the first time earlier that morning, and had only agreed to speak to the reporters because Harry had asked her to. It was important, he explained, that the people knew that she, Ron, and Harry were doing all they could to ed Voldemort's life, and she knew that.

That didn't mean she had to like this.

She had taken the bite that had been meant for Ron so that Ron could guard Harry long enough for Harry to say when needed to be said to destroy the snake, and the part of Voldemort's soul inside of it. Harry's ability to speak Parseltounge had once again been useful as he had managed to destroy Voldemort's snake and the soul inside of it, but she had only seen a bright golden flame encase the carcass of Nagini before she had passed out from the poison running through her bloodstream.

“And you say that you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley are currently finishing a project that Dumbledore started to ensure the safety of the public, but you can't tell us what you're doing or why you're doing it?” A rude blonde reporter asked from her right.

“We can't tell you what we're doing because if we did, Voldemort would be aware that we were doing it.” Hermione tried to explain, as the woman's loud and squeaky voice grated on her nerves almost as much as the question had.

“Is Harry Potter for or against the ministry?”

A loud and amused snort came from behind the small gathering of reporters as Ron entered the room, carrying a mug of coffee with him. “If Harry were against the ministry, you'd know about it. But at the moment I don't think he's very happy with several of the ministry's ideals.” He replied, feeding them a line Hermione was sure Harry had asked him to say. Ron just didn't talk like that, even to reporters, and Harry would never come in front of a crowd like this himself unless he had to.

A small amount of the reporters circling Hermione's bedside moved to surround Ron instead, and as he made himself comfortable on one of the two chairs beside her bed several questions were fired his way at once.

Hermione watched as Ron pretended that the various reporters surrounding him weren't even there, a small smile on her face. A few years ago, Ron would've been giving their secrets away left and right just to remain in the spotlight for a little longer. Now, it appeared, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

She supposed that that's what being famous did to you.

As the reporters floated away for a small teatime break, Ron asked, “How're you holding up?”

“ I'm still living, I suppose.” She replied dryly. The phrase, `I'm still alive' had never been more true before, she supposed. She had, after being bitten, come very close to dying, and had it not been for Harry's limited muggle knowledge of how to remove poison from one's body, she would now be dead.

“Yeah, I know. Harry's hiding somewhere nearby, but I doubt he'll come out anytime soon. Those reporters know that you're confined to the hospital beds for a while, and they're planning on taking advantage of it. He says to just play it cool, relax, and try to make it look like we've really screwed him over this time.” Hermione smiled at Ron, reassuring him that she was fine for now. Ron hadn't been able to say Voldemort's name yet, but he had stopped referring to him as `you-know-who' after Hermione and Harry had always replied with “No, actually, we don't.”

“Does he seem like he's doing okay?” She asked, concerned. Whenever she or Ron got hurt and Harry didn't, he took it worse than they did. It seemed like he continually blamed himself for any injuries they obtained, and the reporters only made it worse.

“Yeah, I think so. He's really worried about you, of course, but he told me just after we got you in here that while he was hissing with Nagini, she gave him a clue about where the next one may be.”

“You mean the next Horcrux? Which one?” Hermione asked, awed. If they already had an idea of where to find the next one, then maybe they could destroy it within a few months. Figuring out where to start was always the hardest part of it.

“The cup, I guess.” Ron replied, shaking his head. “He's gone and holed himself up in books again. Sometimes I don't know which one of you is worse, I swear!” As they spoke, neither Ron nor Hermione noted the beetle that was carefully hidden in the sheets of the unoccupied bed next to Hermione's. They spoke of where it could be hidden, how they could destroy it, and what they would have to go through to get to it, and Rita Skeeter mentally wrote the entire conversation down.

“Which library has he gone to?” Hermione asked.

“Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place again.” Ron replied, setting his empty coffee mug down and putting his elbows on the side table, then resting his head in his hands. “It's always so difficult for him to go back there, but most of the books in there are about Dark magic, so it was really the best place to start.”

Hermione nodded, thinking to herself, while inwardly the beetle did a little victory dance. Harry Potter reading about dark magic? That information alone was enough to make front page!

“Has he checked the Hogwarts library?” Hermione asked.

“Not yet.” Ron replied, slouching down in his seat. “He's bound to soon though. It's been a while since he's visited Ginny, and I know she's dying to talk to him again.”

“Didn't they break up?” Hermione asked, sounding not only curious but also slightly annoyed. If Ginny and Harry weren't going to be a couple, then they shouldn't be so cuddly together in her opinion.

“Yeah, but I think it might just be temporary. You know how Harry can be…I think he's just too afraid of her getting hurt because of her relationship with him, and I'm pretty sure she understands.”

They continued in this matter for quite a while, Ron taking the time to catch Hermione on up on all that she had missed. Eventually, the reporters flooded back in and once again the two members of the trio were very careful in what they divulged to the press.

Several hours later, a large and beautiful white owl caught they attention of a reporter by flying up to the windowsill and waiting to be let in. Hermione read the letter attached to Hedwig, then passed the note to Ron. From the angle the redhead was reading the note, the beetle could read the note as well. It simply said

I've found it. I haven't slept for four days, and I think I'm cross-eyed, but I think I know where it's hidden and how to get there. If you can, please come immediately. I could use Hermione's input. I wouldn't normally ask it of you, but it's important.

The letter wasn't signed, and it wouldn't have made much sense to anyone else, but to Ron, who burned the letter, Hermione, who quickly rose from the bed and gathered her things, and Rita, who concealed herself even better to avoid being seen, the message was easily understood.

“Ms. Granger, I'm sorry, but we ask that you remain at least for the night so that we can continue to take care of you. You aren't fully healed yet, and it's not a good idea to strain yourself. This point in your healing is critical.” Hermione almost felt bad for the nurse, who could possibly lose her job over this, but she really didn't have the time to consider staying. Not when it was so important that she leave.

“I'm sorry, miss, that you could be fired for what I'm about to do. But I know to take my potions, and I heal quickly anyways. I have to leave, now. This is just so much more important.” The emotion and kindness in Hermione's voice was enough to stop the mediwitch from pestering her further, and the reporters watched without moving as Ron and Hermione apperated quickly away.

“But…aren't there anti-apperation wards surrounding Mungos?” One reporter asked from the back of the crowd. Faintly, the nurse nodded at the question and shook her head in disbelief. If those two were powerful enough to easily go through the wards, then maybe there was more to them than anyone had originally thought. There had to be a reason, after all, that they were Harry Potter's best friends.

Later that night, Rita Skeeter was in her element. For once, she didn't need to elaborate very much on all that she had heard, because this story was already good. It told the public about Harry Potter's romantic interest, and what the trio was up to, and what Harry Potter's views were on several matters. It talked about the full reason that that nosy, bossy, annoying know-it-all was really in the hospital, and about what the famous trio were up to now.

The story was perfect, and would make her a big profit for sure, and yet as much as she wanted to print it, even just to get on miss-know-it-all's nerves, she couldn't. It put far too many people in danger.

Rita Skeeter sighed in resignation and poured herself another scotch as she watched the best story she had ever written be reduced to ashes and cinders. Miss-know-it-all may be annoying, but she tended to be right about nearly everything, including this. At the moment, some things were just much more important.

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3. To Hermione

When Harry had first left Ginny, she hadn't questioned his decision. She knew Harry well enough to know that he'd never intentionally hurt anyone, and right after Dumbledore had died Ginny had watched as Harry had become just a little more unfeeling, just a little more defensive. She had watched as he had hidden his emotions just a little bit more each day.

By the time Harry had actually left her, Ginny had already known and accepted what was coming, and wasn't surprised or even hurt because he left her.

No, she was hurt because he kept Ron and Hermione close to him.

He had pushed everyone else, including her, away, but he, Hermione, and her brother only seemed to grow closer. Ron, too, became just a little more detached, just a little more quiet and dark. Hermione no longer sprouted useless information, and no longer picked fights with Ron. The trio had become even closer to each other, and in doing so they had closed themselves off to everyone else.

She hadn't noticed it, really, until Bill's wedding. Throughout the service and the reception, the trio had kept to themselves, and had only spoken to someone if they had been spoken to first. Their answers were always quiet and simple, and Ginny realized that they were afraid to say too much about whatever it was they were up to.

Then, Ron announced that he, Harry, and Hermione were missing their last year at school to aid in the war. They couldn't actually say what they were doing, just that it was important and something that needed to be done.

Ginny's mother had not been happy with Ron, and Ginny couldn't imagine quitting Hogwarts. It was the only place she had ever wanted to go, and over the years that had hardly changed. Hogwarts had become her second home, and she couldn't imagine missing out on her last year there to walk into a battle.

None of this seemed to faze Hermione though, and Ginny watched through slightly teary eyes as her friend packed her bags. A few hours later, they were gone.

Then, several months later, they showed up again for Christmas. They hadn't sent ahead to say that they planned on visiting the Burrow, but that was understandable. The snow would've made it difficult for any owl to find them anyways.

Ginny was shocked to find Hermione limping, her stomach and torso bandaged heavily. She had read in the paper about Hermione being in the hospital, and had visited while Hermione had been unconscious, but the injury seemed even worse than before.

“Didn't you get that healed?” She asked Hermione curiously later on that night as the two girls got ready for bed, eyeing the thick strips of fabric circling the girl's waist. Hermione shrugged.

“Sort of, but something came up, and we had to leave the hospital before they could fully heal.” She replied, pulling on a nightshirt. Like they had every other time they had stayed at the Burrow, Hermione and Ginny were sharing a room. Unlike every other time, they didn't talk about boys and clothing. Instead, Hermione kept as quiet as possible and went to bed early, falling asleep right away.

The next day when Ginny woke up, Hermione was already wide-awake and changing her bandages. Ginny gasped aloud as she saw bloody and torn open skin, and the large blisters that covered her friend's stomach.

“Oh…Hermione…”

Hermione looked up at this, then sighed and continued to wrap bandages around the wound, covering it back up again. “They don't really hurt that bad anymore.” She replied half-heartedly, now moving to leave the room. “If they do, I don't really notice.”

“You were limping last night.” Ginny pointed out, slightly irritated. Hermione used to complain to her all the time, and all three members of the trio knew that they could trust her, so why were they all acting like this?

“It was nothing a night of sleeping in a comfortable bed couldn't cure.” Hermione replied evenly before shutting the bedroom door so that Ginny could get dressed.

Ginny looked in disbelief at the small, plain white cot that had been set up for Hermione right beside her own bed. If that was a comfortable bed in Hermione's eyes, she'd hate to have to sleep in an uncomfortable one.

After two days of Ron, Hermione, and Harry behaving this way, Ginny had lost her patience. They were treating her just like the adults in the Order did, not telling her things!

“Why did you three leave Hogwarts this year?” She asked, no longer beating around the bush, as soon as she had them all together and alone with her in the room. The trio had obviously been meeting in her room, and she had just as obviously interrupted one of their quiet little conversations about things not even her mother knew about.

“To finish what I started.” Harry replied. At this point, Ginny lost the little amount of control she had left. This answer was just as vague as the last one they'd given her.

“Harry, you and I spent a lot of time together and really got to know each other last year. Hermione, we've shared a room together for several nights every year, and we used to talk about silly little things like boys and gossip. You know almost every secret I have. Ron, you're my brother! I mean, you know you can trust me, and you know I've seen more and played a bigger part in this than most adults do, so why can't you tell me something more than that? I thought you trusted me!”

As she raged, she carefully watched their reactions. Harry looked hurt, and Ron and Hermione looked…angry?

With a cold tone she had never expected to come from her brother, Ron walked slowly closer to her, his blue eyes hard and bright. “Ginny, you know we trust you.”

“Then why won't you tell me anything?” She asked, almost shouting, as she stepped forward. “Why can't I come with you?”

“I hate what this war has done to me.” Hermione replied, her voice soft and sad. “I'd hate to see that happen to you.” The anger appeared to have disappeared, but from the look Hermione gave her, Ginny knew better. She'd hear all about whatever it was she had done wrong later.

“I'm not a little kid, Hermione! I'm only one year younger than you, and I came close to death because of him in my first year! I can handle it.” Ginny argued, stepping closer.

There was a moment of silence in the room, and then Harry muttered, “She has a point,” quietly, almost to himself. “Let her come. If she thinks she can handle it, then let her. At least we'll know that she's safe with us.”

Ron and Hermione fought with Harry over his decision for hours, but his mind had been made up and wouldn't be changed. Ginny, satisfied with herself, headed back to her room to pack and left the trio to their argument.

Hermione came in quietly a few hours later, looking exhausted and upset. “How could you do that to him?” She asked, her voice heavy with fatigue. “How could you guilt him into letting you come along?”

For a moment, Ginny felt bad, knowing that she was causing Harry pain. Then, she remembered where she was going and the guilt subsided slightly. “Hermione, I'm telling you, I can handle it.”

“I'm sure you can.” Hermione snapped, her voice cold and unforgiving.

“Besides, why should you get to go with him and leave my behind?” Ginny asked, feeling a small stab of jealousy. Why had Hermione been able to go with Harry when she had been forced to stay at Hogwarts.

“Because Harry's just doing his best to protect you!” Hermione shouted, losing her temper for the first time Ginny could remember. She knew it had happened to Ron before, and Malfoy too, but never had she seen Hermione in this state.

“And why isn't he doing his best to protect you?” Ginny snapped.

“Because we're doing our best to protect him.” Hermione answered quietly.

“From You-Know-Who?” Ginny asked incredulously. “How do you plan to do that? Harry's the one that's faced him all those times, and Harry's the only one that can beat him. It was all over the papers last year, everyone knows. How're you supposed to protect Harry from that?”

“Not from that…” Hermione replied sadly, turning away. “From someone much more powerful…himself.” Ginny just rolled her eyes at the melodramatic way Hermione said this.

“Right.”

“Well, think about this. Harry already has his fate, his future, laid out for him. He could either triumph, save the world, and grow old, or he could die at the hands of his parent's murderer. But even if he wins, unless he's happy it doesn't mean very much, now does it?”

Ginny thought about this all night, while Hermione slept, and the next morning when the trio left Ginny gave them a hug goodbye.

In Hermione's mind, the world was important but Harry was even more so. In that moment that Hermione had been trying to reason with her, she had seen a determination and loyalty that scared her, and in an instant she knew that she could never give Harry that. It was just too much.

And nothing was too much for Hermione. That was why she and Ron were leaving with Harry when they knew what they were giving up. They were giving up their dreams, their families, and their lives for their friend. Harry just meant that much to them.

Ginny could imagine leaving everything she had just for one person. Just to keep one person happy and comfortable. She wondered if she'd ever understand that sort of loyalty. She didn't think so.

To Hermione, school and family and life was important. But Harry, Harry was much more important.

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4. MMI4

During the last several months, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had disappeared. In just disappearing as they had the trio had left a very frightened and curious public wondering about what it was they were doing to end the ongoing war.

The Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, had been in the paper more in the last year then he had in the first fifteen years of his life, with people everywhere claiming to have sighted him, claiming to know where he was.

Hermione Granger the injuries she had sustained in October had made the front page, and soon her name to appear more and more in the papers.

And because two members of the trio were famous, so was the third.

Ron Weasley had finally gotten the recognition he had always wanted, and he didn't even know it. He, Harry, and Hermione hadn't read a paper in months, because none of them wanted to know about the deaths of any loved ones. They had a job to finish, and they were so close to being done. Only one more horcrux and then Harry had to face Voldemort and destroy the last piece of his soul that was left. At this point, the trio felt like they couldn't stop, because they'd probably never be able to start again.

But there did come a point in time where Ron just wanted to sleep in his own bed, and Harry and Hermione weren't going to complain with a good, hot, and home cooked meal from Mrs. Weasley.

So in early April, the trio wearily trudged through the brush near Ron's house that they had apperated into in their exhaustion, their minds focused only on clean, dry clothes and a comfortable bed.

Mrs. Weasley welcomed them with a big hug and several large bath towels to use to dry off. When all three, even Ron, had claimed that they were too tired to eat, Mrs. Weasley led them up to separate rooms that they could use to sleep in.

The walls of his room were still orange. There was still a hole in the bedspread, and a small pile of book were still resting in the corner under an old bath robe. But Ron's room had never looked better.

Ginny was staying at Hogwarts still, the twins were in the flat above their shop, and Bill, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley were all out doing various tasks for the Order, which was now under the command of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Percy, who had made up with his family just after Christmas and had moved back in when he could no longer pay rent, and Mrs. Weasley were the only ones staying at the Burrow, and the next morning when Percy went downstairs for breakfast he was shocked to see Ron, Harry, and Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, quietly discussing something between themselves.

Ron may not have known how infamous he had become in the last several months, but Percy did. He'd read every paper that the golden trio had been featured in, and now regretted that he was on such bad terms with his brother and the savior of the wizarding world.

To Percy, this was the perfect opportunity to talk to his younger brother, fix things, and regain ground in the Ministry, where he had been demoted severely after the minister had realized that Percy and Harry hadn't been as close as he had origionally thought, and that Percy couldn't tell him anything about the Order or what Harry was up to because Percy knew no more than he did.

Briskly, Percy offered a `good morning' to his mother and then turned to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, who had stopped their conversation to look up at him.

“What's he doing here?” Ron asked, his voice harsh and quiet. Percy winced at the tone his brother had used. Maybe this wouldn't be as easy as he had thought.

“Your brother apologized just after you left, in January. He's been welcomed back by everyone else in the family, and you would've known that long before now had you accepted any of the letters we sent you.” Mrs. Weasley replied tartly, more upset than angry. She had been worried constantly for her youngest son and his two best friends, and seeing them alive and eating was enough to dampen her concern to focus on her annoyance.

“Mum, you know why we couldn't let any owls near us! I mean, Voldemort could've easily followed them to us, he's tracking us as we speak.” Ron replied, not moving his blue judging gaze from his older brother. “But we're sorry that we worried you. Welcome back, Percy.”

“I could say the same to you, Ron.” Percy replied easily, as he sat stiffly in a chair and ate some breakfast. It would be worth it to get to work late if he could get what he wanted; support for the ministry from the golden trio would be priceless. “You've been off for months.”

“Yes, well, months was how long it took to do what needed to be done.” Harry answered vaguely, slowly buttering a role. His sharp green eyes were making Percy feel like he was being slowly studied and torn apart, making him feel vulnerable and young. No teenager should have eyes like Harry Potter did.

Hermione Granger heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her long and tangled brown hair. When she took her head up from her hands, Percy saw that she too had haunted look to her dark brown eyes. “And we aren't anywhere near done.” She murmured, her voice worn and tired.

“Maybe not, but we're closer than we were before.” Harry replied, his voice gaining a commanding tone. He sat up just a little straighter in his chair, and just put his shoulders back a little farther, but the effect was startling. No longer did Percy look at the Boy-Who-Lived as a scared first year his brother had befriended, nor did he see Harry as the attention-seeking brat the papers had once made him out to be. It was only then that Percy saw how resilient and powerful Harry Potter was.

Somehow, it made him seem all the more dangerous. Now he knew he had to get Harry to back the Ministry, and the best way to do so was to get Ron's agreement. Right away, he decided that he needed to talk to Ron about the ministry's position as soon as he could get his younger brother alone.

But talking to Ron alone wasn't as easy had it had once been. Before, Ron would at least have polished his broom or raided the kitchen by himself. Now, it seemed, he Harry and Hermione did everything but sleep together, and Percy wasn't sure how to approach his brother about the matter when Ron was half asleep.

Percy finally got his chance later that night, when he was heading to bed after a very late night at work. Voldemort had attacked again, and he had been called in on his day off.

He heard hoarse whimpers and quiet cries in pain, and rushed to Ron's room to see that the door was open, and the bed was empty. He backtracked down the stairs and followed the noises until he came to the twin's room, where Harry was once again sleeping.

The scene he saw made him stop dead in the doorway. His younger brother was solemnly brushing Harry's black fringe away from the famous scar that at that moment was a sore red and badly swollen. Ron's eyes were focused on his best friend with an intensity the Percy had never seen on the normally laid-back young man's face before.

He was Ron. He was supposed to be laughing, smiling, or embarrassed. He wasn't supposed to be thinking.

Percy knew that this line of thinking was a little harsh on his part; after all, Ron had become a prefect in his fifth and sixth years, but he couldn't stop to consider this train of thought. All he could think about, at that moment, was the intense look on his brother's face.

When Ron finally noticed Percy standing by the door, he quietly rose from the edge of the bed and guided Percy out, pulling the door closed behind him. Percy, too stunned to argue, followed meekly.

“What was that?” He finally hissed as they reached Ron's room.

“What? That?” Ron replied evenly, absently picking up his room. “That's what happens whenever Voldemort does a really bad attack.”

“How did you know to be there, then?” Percy asked. “The noises he was making weren't that loud.”

“No, they weren't, but Voldemort's done large-scale attacks before, and that's always Harry's reaction. When you left for the ministry, all important, I knew that someone was going to need to be there for Harry tonight.”

“Why you?” Percy asked, irritated. “Why not Hermione?”

Ron threw a small, empty smile Percy's way and said, “Because she did it last time.” Percy gasped as Ron pulled off the old, ratty shirt he had been wearing that day and pulled on a worn cotton night shirt. His body had gained several small scars, some of the cuts fresh, a few of them years old. Ron again smiled wearily as he climbed into bed. “And if you think I'm bad, you should see Harry.”

“Bu that's just it, Ron!” Percy hissed, his temper getting the better of him. The well-thought-out lecture he had originally constructed flew out the window. “If Harry would just work with the ministry, you, him and Hermione wouldn't be hurt so often. You wouldn't be in so much danger all the time, and you wouldn't have to disappear for months. You could even go back to school, and get a job. Just the adults what you know, and let us handle it!”

“No, Percy, I couldn't.” Ron replied tiredly, his face weary.

“Couldn't what?”

“I couldn't return to school, because that would bring the fight there and put others in danger. I couldn't tell the adults and trust you to handle it, because I've seen how badly you lot can muck things up. And I couldn't trust Harry to anyone but myself, because no one else knows him like I do. I know what you're trying to do. You trying to make me agree to tell the ministry all about Harry and what we do, just like you tried to get Harry to tell on Dumbledore. It won't work. Harry's Dumbledore's man through and through, and I'm Harry's.”

“But…but why you? Why not Hermione?” At this point, Percy wasn't asking for the ministry. He was asking because a small part of him still remembered Ron as his little brother.

Ron smiled. “Because she's Harry's woman. He needs both of us to finish what the three of us started.” His eyes slowly closed, as he drifted off to sleep. “I know that this is hard for you to understand, Perce, and I'm sorry for that. You've never had a friend like Harry, and you can't understand what could be more important than school, work, and knowledge. But trust me, Percy, I know what I'm doing. I have my priorities in order.” Soon after, Ron drifted off to sleep.

But Percy couldn't sleep, and tossed and turned all night, his brother's words ringing in his ears. Wasn't blood thicker than water? Ron should have stayed with his family, not gone running around with his friends.

But then, Percy had left his family for work. If friends were water, work was vinegar.

Maybe Ron knew something that Percy would never know. Maybe, there was more to Harry than just an icon, just a celebrity. Maybe…maybe, for once, his younger and thicker brother was right. Maybe some things, like friendship, were much more important.

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5. MMI5

As she surveyed the mess of ink, quills, old tomes and several parchments covered in notes, Hermione wondered when she had gotten in so deep.

Earlier, when the students had been in the library sitting at other tables and whispering answers to homework and gossiping, she had tried to think of a time when she had been one of them, just lounging in the library. It had only been nearly a year, but it felt like a lifetime since she'd been able to sit with her friends and the books around her, and she had wished then that all of the students would leave her in her invisible corner in silence. But as soon as they had left, and taken all of the giggles and whispers with them, Hermione had started longing for company. Without people in it, in the warm lamplight, the library looked deserted and eerie.

Hermione rubbed her sore and heavy eyes and resumed her reading. Her hand was cramped from the notes she had been hastily scribbling down since dinner, and her head was heavy with fatigue, and there she was sitting at the library with a pen holding her hair in a bun, eyes scanning over the fading words that covered the page.

After a moment, she scowled in frustration and rubbed her tired eyelids again. Longingly, she took a moment to think of her dorm mates prior to her leaving Hogwarts, who were still in school and now sleeping soundly several floors above her in the Gryffindor girl's dorm. At that moment she had no idea what she was doing in the library at who-knows-what time at night, exhausted, when she could've been upstairs and curled up in her old bed.

Then, a narrow beam of light shone into the room from the door, where she noticed a figure carrying a lantern. She was wary, but Hermione also couldn't help but smile at the humorous feeling she was getting, remembering when she would've been terrified to be caught anywhere in the school after hours. After everything she had seen and done in the last several years, losing a few house points and serving a detention didn't seem threatening.

She needn't have worried at all about explaining herself to whoever it was, because a moment later the figure came all the way into the room, and Hermione relaxed completely as Harry set down the lantern and a plate of food before grabbing a chair from and nearby table and falling into it beside her.

“A midnight snack?” Hermione teased, still leaning over her book. She didn't seem Harry's wane smile turn disappear.

“No, breakfast.” Startled, she finally looked up from her work. “It's nearly seven, and I figured you'd be hungry.” He paused and took a moment to study her features closely. “You've been here all night, haven't you? And you haven't eaten anything.” It was more of a statement than a question, and both of them knew it. Everyone, especially Harry and Ron, knew that when Hermione was researching something important, she wouldn't be stopped by anything, especially something as `trivial' as food.

Hermione sighed, knowing that she was about to be lectured, and leaned forward again over her book. As she did so, a large piece of her frizzy brown hair fell out of its untidy bun and into her eyes. Impatiently, she tucked it behind her ear, only to have it come out again shortly afterwards.

Smiling gently, Harry tucked the piece behind her ear again for her, then regained the serious look on his face. “Hermione, you have to eat.”

“Oh, and you don't when you're on to something important?” Hermione snapped, her patience thinning. She hadn't had a good nights sleep in several weeks, and her temper had suffered because of it.

Harry winced. She had a point. “That's different.”

“How so?” Hermione asked, finally looking up once again. The two members of the trio made eye contact and had a staring contest until Harry looked down.

“Because we aren't at Hogwarts then. But we're here now, and I don't know how long we're staying. We should use this time to relax a little. We don't know when the next time we'll be able to sleep in a bed or eat a warm meal will be, and you should be taking advantage of it while it lasts.”

Hermione let out an irritated noise that sounded like it was a cross between a growl and snort. “Harry, this is the only place I can help you at the moment. Ron can help you all the time out there, but unless I'm near a library I feel useless.

Harry sighed in defeat. “You aren't useless, and you should know that by now, but I'm too tired to argue. Would you at least eat?”

Hermione, too tired to fight as well, wearily picked up her fork and speared some of the warm, fluffy scrambled eggs on the plate Harry had carried in for her. Harry, satisfied that she was at least eating, picked up one of the many parchments that littered the table and the area surrounding it and began to read it quietly to himself. On the parchment were words he didn't understand and terms that made no sense.

“What are you working on?” He asked her quietly. “Nagini's dead.” This, at least, was true. Harry had killed the last of the horcruxes when he had found Remus Lupin dead, with note pinned on him that apologized for the death of his werewolf. Harry, in retaliation, had killed Voldemort's pet, showing the death eaters that Remus had never been a pet to begin with, and in doing so had destroyed the last of the horcruxes.

That had all been just a few days ago, and now Harry had to kill the little bit of Voldemort that was still inside of his body. This meant that Harry had to take Voldemort on himself.

Hermione had realized that the only way to help him through this was to come up with an easy way to destroy Voldemort. She was quickly discovering, however, that dark lords did not die easily.

When she told Harry what she was up to, he just shook his head, chuckling. “Hermione, you help me a lot more than you realize. All I need to defeat Voldemort I already have.”

Smiling tiredly at him, she covered yet another yawn and then set back to work, leaning over the books she had been reading all night. Harry, understanding that this was something she needed even more than sleep, merely picked his own book and read silently with her, trying to at least provide a companion. It was exactly what Hermione had needed.

When Ron came into the library to join them just a little later, he smiled slightly at what he saw.

Hermione had her head resting on Harry's shoulder, and Harry was sound asleep with his head on his arms. The books lie open and forgotten under their heads, acting as pillows.

Ron, deciding that he liked this idea, quietly pulled another chair over, and chose his own book to use as a pillow to prop his head on. As soon as he closed his eyes he was out, and he too was leaning on Harry.

When Minerva McGonagall slipped into the library at eight in the morning, she was surprised to find three former students asleep a large pile of reference books. She had known what Hermione was working on, and had expected her to be there all night, but was surprised and pleased to see the two boys sound asleep beside her. Despite their uncomfortable positions, all three seemed relaxed for the first time in a long time, and Minerva merely summoned a large blanket to cover the three of them and left them with a small smile.

She wake them up to tell them about the most recent of Voldemort's attacks later. For now, the library would be closed off to the student body. She'd have to come up with a good reason, but as it was a warm summer Saturday she doubted that many would complain. And if they did, they would just have to deal with it. They could complete their homework assignments tomorrow.

Some things, she decided with a little secret smile that disappeared as soon as a student approached, were much more important.

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6. MMI6

AN- Almost at the end, and finally one put in Harry's point of view. Hope you guys enjoy, and I'll try and reply to all of your reviews. Happy reading

Disclaimer- If I owned it, would I be writing on here? No, don't answer that, of course I would be. But still, JK doesn't write on here…at least, I doubt she writes on here, and I would write fanfiction about my own story if the story were my own. As it is, the story isn't my own, so therefore I don't own it. Don't sue.

Harry sighed heavily and tried to take a deep breath before he flung himself back into the fight to attack again. Dueling wasn't just saying spells and pointing your wand; it actually involved a lot of dodging and running, and in the mud it was a bit uncomfortable.

Pushing the stiffness in his limbs and the pulsing that came from a burn on his arm aside, he shouted another curse out towards Lestrange, determined not to let her get away again.

She'd gotten away with too much already.

When the curse hit her bones and stopped her heart, she sunk into the mud. And Harry felt a pang as he turned away from her lifeless eyes to face the final battle once again. He knew that it needed to be done, that she would just escape again and hurt more people the way she'd hurt him, but he never liked taking a life, even if that person had taken someone else's. He didn't kill because he wanted to, or because he enjoyed it; he killed because it had to be done.

Nearby, Hermione was going all-out against a Death Eater with a familiar voice that Harry couldn't connect to a name. It didn't matter anyways. They'd take his mask off after Hermione killed him.

Ron smiled thinly at him as he bound some of the younger Death Eaters. His hair was stiff with blood and dirt, the circles under his eyes made his face seem bruised, and he had a large and deep cut that was still sullenly oozing blood on his right shoulder. Looking at him, Harry wondered what was supposedly so noble about war anyway.

“Doing alright, Harry?” Ron asked, joining him as he surveyed the field. He wouldn't fight unless he had to, and he didn't plan to fight unless it was Voldemort. He was already exhausted, and didn't know how he was supposed to face the most powerful dark lord the wizarding world had ever seen when he felt like he could even stand up straight anymore.

Ron seemed to already know this, because he began defending Harry from any spells while Harry tried to catch his breath and take a sip of water from the hipflask Moody had given to him just before his death.

After he'd wiped his mouth, Harry began firing spells again. “I'll be fine. Go help Hermione, she's taking on four.”

“Now that's hardly fair.” Ron replied, gratefully taking the offered hipflask from Harry and quickly taking a drink.

“I know, they've almost got her surrounded.” Harry replied. He knew Hermione could handle herself, but it didn't stop him from worrying.

Ron smiled dryly, eyeing the duel that was taking place several feet in front of them. “I meant, that's hardly fair on them. See, she already has one of them down, and two of them injured.”

Of course she did. She was Hermione.

Standing off to the side, helping those injured and those in tight spots, Harry waited for his real enemy to show up, determined to end the fighting before even more people got hurt.

He didn't have to wait very long, in the grand scheme of things. The battle had been going on for nearly two hours when Voldemort showed up, dark and intimidating. The fighting around him stopped, and he didn't kill or look anywhere but ahead of himself.

Straight at Harry. Harry stared straight back, refusing to flinch at the dark red eyes that were shining back at him.

As they began to fight, the battle around them slowly ceased. The spells, hexes, curses and charms being thrown around were powerful, dangerous, and often unknown. A half-an-hour into the duel, everyone on the field had stopped and moved to give the two wizards room.

Neither side wanted to start the massive fighting again, the Order because they didn't like killing and the Death Eaters because somewhere, deep inside, most of them knew that after this, there was a good chance they could end up in Azkaban, and if they were careful about how many they killed, then they might get off just a little bit easier.

Harry was losing badly, and he knew it. His left arm could barely move, his shields weren't holding, and his scar was burning so badly that he could no longer see anything more than fuzzy outlines, which is what he would've seen anyway, because his glasses had been broken and disregarded some time ago.

The only thing that kept him standing and fighting at this point was Voldemort's taunts. Jibes about his parents, his godfather, his muggle family, his mentor, and his surrogate family were enough to keep him going. The hate he was feeling at that moment towards the thing that was once Tom Riddle burned more than even his scar.

“-And after I win,” Voldemort continued, pausing to shout another spell before finishing his sentence. “I'm going to take this castle apart brick-by-brick, along with everyone in it.”

And then came the pain that he had experienced through Crucio. Absently he heard somebody screaming, and realized that it was himself. Slowly, he let himself fall down, and didn't bother to get back up. It hurt too badly.

At this point, he was pretty sure he was making a high whistling sound, because he just didn't have enough air to scream. Everything was slowly fading to black, and Harry let himself keep falling until something startled him out of his painful daze.

“Harry, listen to me. Harry, hold on! You have to hold on, just a little bit more, just a little bit longer. You just have to get up one more time. Please-“ Crying. Hermione was crying.

“Mate, come on. We're still here, we still need you here! It isn't over yet, we need you to stay alive. Harry…hold on, just stand up!” Ron…but Ron never cried! His pride wouldn't let him cry in front of anything.

Apparently this was a special occasion.

The hate he felt right then towards the creature that had killed his parents and so many others paled in comparison to the love he felt for his best friends. His family, his hope, his support, his…life.

And the darkness he had been falling into was quickly replaced by light. Hate alone wasn't enough to keep him going.

But love was.

Harry screamed as his entire life flashed before his eyes. Voldemort screamed as his head seemed to be turning inside-out, the same white light that was pouring off of Harry shooting through Voldemort's eyes.

As Harry's scar suddenly stopped hurting, fading into irritated but unmarked skin, Voldemort ran out of pieces of his soul. As Voldemort died, the last horcrux faded.

Everyone was silent for the moment. The quiet that fell onto the once-loud battlefield suddenly seemed deafening, and no one wanted to break it and face what was coming.

That didn't stop Hermione and Ron from running towards Harry. Ron knelt beside his injured best friend, and Hermione gently lifted his head and rested it on her legs, trying to make him just a little more comfortable.

As soon as they moved, everyone else did. Death Eaters tried to apperate, Aurors hurried to make arrests, Order members began to regroup and gather the injured, and Hogsmeade civilians caught in the crossfire of the battle began to mourn those lost or look for loved ones that couldn't be found.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry didn't move from their area in the middle of that muddy, trampled, bloodstained field for a long time. They just rested there, healing and taking comfort in each other.

Later that night, when all three of them were in the hospital beds they were always given, they finally began to actually talk. For the first several hours following the battle all they had said was, “It's finally over,” “It's going to be okay now,” and “Don't leave.” The response had been unvoiced because the answer was obvious. Harry was there, so Hermione and Ron weren't going anywhere.

“So…what do we do now?” Ron asked, voicing the question that all of them had been wondering at one point or another. They had spent such a long time fighting that now it didn't seem like there was much else left. “Are we going after those Death Eaters?” Both Hermione and Ron turned to Harry, looking for an answer. Harry didn't reply right away, but both waited until finally he said,

“No. I think we let the aurors handle them. That's what they're paid for, after all. Why don't we stay here for a while?”

“Stay here?” Hermione asked. “And do what?”

“Help rebuild. Just relax for a while, and maybe afterwards take a vacation.” All three lit up at the idea of a warm, sunny beach. “And then,” Harry continued, sighing as he thought about what he had left to do in his life. “well, then we go on with our lives.”

He noticed, though, that he'd said `we'. With the three of them, it was always `we', because everything was done together. It wasn't that they couldn't be without each other, or that they'd never spend a day apart, but just that all three would leave their lives and homes in a heartbeat to help each other.

After all, life mattered, but love was so much more important.

HEY, YOU! YEAH, I'M TALKING TO YOU! DON'T YOU DARE WRITE THIS FIC OFF AS OVER, CAUSE THE FAT LADY, (a.k.a. Padfoot_puppyeyes) HASN'T SUNG NOTHING YET! IT'S NOT OVER PEOPLE! THERE'S AN EPIOLOUGE! SO DO YOU AND ME A FAVOR, AND PRESS THAT LITTLE BUTTON YOU SEE TOWARDS THE BOTTOM OF THIS PAGE. IT SAYS REVIEW. YOU READ THAT! REVIEW! THE MORE TIMES PEOPLE PUSH IT AFTER WRITING STUFF IN THAT FUNNY LITTLE BOX YOU SEE JUST TO THE LEFT OF IT, THE QUICKER THE EARLIER MENTIONED FAT LADY POSTS THE FINAL CHAPTER! FAT LADY OUT-

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7. The Perfect Ending

“Why, look. Little-miss-perfect drinks pina coladas. Who would've ever thought?” Rita Skeeter's sarcastic voice destroyed Hermione's idea of the perfect vacation.

“What're you doing here?” Harry demanded, sitting up and instantly getting ready for the worst. All three of them knew that the war was over, but it didn't stop their instincts from kicking in whenever something unexpected (like the surprise birthday party they had held for Harry) or unwelcome happened. Even Hermione had her wand gripped in her sweaty, sandy hand before she even realized that she'd moved.

The trio's reaction wasn't missed by Rita. She quickly backed up a few steps, her bag clutched tightly to her chest and her eyes slightly wide.

Hermione sighed and set her wand back down, then calmly picked up her paperback book and continued reading. Harry and Ron went back to their conversation, and Rita was left standing there, ignored and confused.

“I want an interview.”

“-but this year, I reckon the Cannons really stand a chance! I mean, now that they've gotten rid of-“

“You owe me, anyway. I've kept my end of the deal, and I haven't written anything about you at all during the war. I want my reward.”

“Your reward was us not turning you in.” Hermione replied coolly, her eyes still focused on her book but no longer reading. As much as she hated to admit it, an interview with someone, anyone, might not be a bad idea. Owls had been bothering them for weeks, ever since they had first gone on vacation, and it almost would be worth it to just tell the people asking what they wanted to know and get it over with.

Harry caught her eye and sent her a questioning look, to which she shrugged and looked over at Ron. Ron, who had noticed the interaction between his two best friends, also gave a casual shrug, so Hermione nodded as though making a decision and leaned forward.

“We'll make another deal with you Rita. We'll give you your interview, but in it you can't say where we are, and you can't elaborate or change our words around. This is our interview, and it says exactly what we want it to say.”

“Or else?” Rita asked wryly, her expression a cross between being amused and annoyed. “I became a licensed Animagus a week ago. You don't have anything to hold over me anymore.”

“Or else no more interviews. And believe me, it won't look good if we write the Daily Prophet a letter trashing you and your writing.” Hermione marveled inwardly yet again at Harry's Slytherin-like thinking, but didn't let her surprise show.

Rita, deflated, relented. “Fine. You can even read it before it goes to print.”

Primly, Hermione shut her book and set it next to her wand. Likewise, the two boys behind her sat a little straighter and stared expectantly at the reporter before them.

Rita, shocked at the change she saw in the golden trio, scrambled to think about where to start. Finally, she asked, “Shouldn't you be in school by now?”

The exasperated, slightly annoyed looks she received were more than enough of a reply. “Yes, school started at some point last week.”

“Then what're you still doing here?” She asked, honestly confused. The war was over, and the children that had left Hogwarts because of the danger Voldemort had presented to the castle had once again returned. The trio had been the only ones to not show up at the castle for their final year of school.

“We've just been through hell. Physically, emotionally, we've just spent an entire year living solely so that others wouldn't die. Then, even after the war ended, there were all sort of loose ends to tie up that we were obligated to stay behind for, so it took forever to finally get out of England-“

“And out of the political hole we'd dug ourselves into.” Ron added, interrupting Harry mid-rant. Harry, whose voice had gradually been increasing as his speech continued, abruptly shut his open mouth and calmed down.

“Yes, and that too. So we left. Just to relax for a while.”

Rita clearly didn't believe them. “But…but what're you doing here? I mean, is there more to You-Know-Who's demise than we know, or some rampant death eaters nearby, or a new dark lord rising, or-“

“No.” Harry answered simply, shrugging. Hermione coughed to cover a laugh at the skeptical look on Rita's face. “Just lots of sun, and sand, and water. No monsters, no mysteries, no stories.”

Rita quickly recovered from her shocked expression to continue asking questions, trying to get interesting answers. “Aren't the three of you planning on returning to school?” She asked, surprised. It had seemed like Granger wouldn't dream of staying away from studying, and she'd probably have one of the highest ever NEWT scores.

But even Prefect Hermione Granger, the girl who could've been Head Girl had she chosen to remain behind at school, just shrugged. “Probably, someday.”

“But…but what about jobs? You need NEWT scores to get a job.” She paused for a moment, then added, “Actually you could probably live pretty well off of the reward money from the war for the rest of your lives.”

Hermione smiled and shook her head. “Actually, this is the last of it.” She replied cheerfully. “We've still got enough to cover a nice long vacation, but that's about it.”

Rita was flabbergasted. “But…what'd you do with the rest of it?” She asked.

Ron Weasley, who had always wanted to be wealthy, shrugged. “Charities, hospitals, our families…”

“But what about a house? You'll need a house if you aren't going back to school right away.” Rita pointed out. Instead of looking worried, Harry Potter smiled.

“Nah. We've got a flat somewhere for a while.”

Hermione reflected on how it had all ended, and couldn't help feeling a little amused. Yeah, she had never pictured this as the perfect ending. In her perfect ending, she'd stayed at school, gotten the highest NEWT scores ever, gotten an important and sophisticated job at the ministry, stayed close to Harry and Ron, and lived a long, happy, healthy life.

But the world wasn't perfect. She still hadn't picked up a textbook for school, and she had no idea what career she was interested in, and she didn't know where her life was going. She owned a dingy little apartment near London, had no husband or boyfriend, and still had to finish her schooling.

“Hermione?” Startled out of her thoughts, Hermione jumped a little and turned to look at a grinning Harry and Ron. She was shocked when both boys grabbed an arm, picked her up, and flung her into the nearby pool, sunglasses and all.

Life, she had discovered, wasn't about were you ended up. It was about how you got there, and who you got there with. And as Harry jumped in next to her, splashing her once again with a tidal wave of pool water, Hermione decided that she didn't need a fancy house, incredible NEWT scores, or an important job at the ministry. Sure, those things would be nice, but she didn't need them.

The world was safe, Harry was laughing, and she was on vacation. The rest of her life could wait.

Some things were much more important.

IT'S DONE! I'm not sure if I like this ending or not, but everything else I tried writing seemed too vague and pointless. Please let me know what you thought, even if you disliked it, but don't send me ridiculous flames. I'm not writing on Portkey to offend anyone with horrible writing; I'm on this site writing fanfiction only to share my ideas and opinions regarding Harry Potter and improve my literary skills and writing technique.

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