Hermione stood on the top of the hill, looking down at the small, grassy area where two dark groups stood facing each other. The sun was setting while being obscured by angry grey clouds rolling in from the west, which made it difficult to differentiate between the two groups, but she didn't need to see them to be reminded that she knew people on both sides.
There would be Crabbe, Goyle, Lucius Malfoy and countless other Death Eaters on one side, and Ron, Luna, Neville, McGonagall and what was left of the Order on the other. Neither side moved, but rather stood apart, waiting.
The wind from the oncoming storm picked up, and blew her auburn hair around for a moment, briefly mingling with the red hair of the girl standing next to her.
Ginny Weasley looked straight ahead, all her focus on the space between the two forces, her hands clenched into fists at her side. Hermione couldn't help but notice the changes in the girl next to her; it was impossible not to. This last year had changed everyone, she supposed, but Ginny was no longer the naïve girl she had been merely a year ago. She was older; not just in body, but in personality too. Hermione was unable to think of a better word to describer her than "grimmer," but she figured Ginny had reason to be.
Falling in love with the son one of the most dangerous Death Eaters would have that effect.
The revelation that Ginny had been secretly seeing Draco had come as a shock to many, her not least of all, but of course, the relationship between herself and Harry, that had sprung out of long withheld feelings and a sense that any day could be the last, had come as jolt to many also. Despite everything everyone told her, Ginny held firm to the conviction that there was still some good in him, and that deep down, he didn't want to be in this war. Voldemort and his own father, she maintained, were just using him.
Any other year of their lives, Hermione would have laughed at such an idea, but the few times they had met Draco during their quest to find the Horcuxes he had let them slip away, always making it look like they just managed to get free. Somehow, he and Harry had formed a strange kind of mutual respect; a respect that, under almost any other circumstances, might have led to a friendship.
But they were on the sides they were on, and there was no turning back. Especially now.
As if in response to her thought, both forces parted simultaneously and two figures strode into the field, stopping a few paces away from each other. The two groups fell back to give the pair as much room as possible and waited in silence.
On the right was Harry, Hermione knew, and the left, Draco. They were both wearing dark colored robes that, in fading light, looked identical. In fact, the only reason she knew who was who from the far away hilltop was the fact that she knew the Order members were on the right.
They stood apart for a moment, speaking words that no one could, or would ever, hear, and Hermione felt a knot grow in her stomach.
To her surprise, Ginny suddenly said, "It would be a lot easier if I could hate the man trying to kill Draco."
Hermione tried to reply, but she couldn't find the words, for she found herself agreeing with Ginny. This would be much easier if the person opposite Harry wasn't one she had grown to pity and respect in her own way.
The moment of peace in the quickly disappearing light lasted for what seemed like a flash, before both Harry and Draco launched spells at each other and the battle began.
Oh love, she whispered, reminded herself that she had promised Harry this morning, before he left, that she would not weep. Not until it was over.
************************************************************************
They were equals.
He should have known it would be so, he thought as he rolled away from a flash of blue light directed at him, before uttering his own counter-curse, which was deflected by the shield of magic both had created around themselves.
He rolled to his feet and took a minute's breath, his opponent doing likewise. It didn't seem fair that they should be forced to do this, not when the first seeds of respect were being sown between them.
Besides, there were other things to live for; things besides duty, what was right and what was expected. Love was at the forefront of his mind, as he looked briefly at the two figures watching them at the top of the hill.
He caught his opponent doing the same, and the unfairness of the event again rang through his mind. His opponent looked at him, and they shared a look that plainly said they had the same thing on their mind.
With gritted teeth he sent a fire-orange spell at the other man, but a yellow beam of light met it, and they both dissipated.
They were equals, and if this kept up, it would never end.
Then a beam of sunlight reflected of the magic shield of his opponent, and he had an idea.
************************************************************************
Ginny Weasly stood next to Hermione and watched as Draco and Harry dueled, all the while her insides afire with the injustice of it all.
She had meant what she said to Hermione before the duel started. Things would have been a lot simpler if she could just hate Harry for trying to kill the man she loved.
But simplicity had never been present from the moment she and Draco started seeing each other. She was still coming to grips with the fact that Harry was no longer going to be a part of her life in the way she wanted, and she had run into Draco one night in London, on her way home from visiting her father at the Ministry.
Both were surprised to see the other, but Ginny had always felt pity in a way for Draco, and managed to strike up a conversation, much to Draco's apparent dislike.
Being still young, both were unaware of how love can blossom between two people without them realizing it, and so both were taken aback by the feelings they had for each other: Draco out of a sense of honor that he owed to his father and family name, and Ginny out of surprise that she could have feelings for someone who had played a hand in the death of Dumbledore, as well as her own trials her first year at Hogwarts.
Yet the feelings were what they were, and especially at this time, denying them felt like a waste. When the relationship that Harry and Hermione had been having was revealed, Ginny grew even closer to Draco, at first feeling betrayed by Harry, but thanks to Draco's help, she had accepted that Harry was to move on as well. She knew she would always care for Harry, but the love that had grown between herself and Draco superseded anything else.
The same moment Draco had helped her realize this, she decided to tell her parents and family about their relationship. The reaction was what she expected, but she received unlooked for support in Harry and Hermione, and she stood firm, for once in her life, that she was absolutely doing the right thing.
And now I have to watch the first man I loved and the man I love now try to kill each other, she thought bitterly, fighting back tears. Both of them were being used in a way, although they may not be aware of it. Draco was being used by Voldemort and his father to help get Harry out of the way, but Harry was also being used by the Ministry and the majority of the wizarding world as both a sword and a shield against Voldemort. She wondered if Harry knew this, but looking at Hermione, she had no doubt he did.
The light was fading fast, but the two were briefly illuminated by the spells they were casting, but from the distance she and Hermione were at, it was still impossible to tell who was who.
The fighting was equally fierce, and she wondered if this could possibly end. They were just too evenly matched.
Then she watched in surprise as one of them lowered their shield.
************************************************************************
A hiss of surprise escaped from Hermione as she saw one of the combatants lower their shield. She wasn't aware such bravery could still exist in the times they lived in, but it just proved that there was still much she had to learn.
She just wished she could tell if it was Harry or Draco who lowered his shield, and she guessed Ginny was wondering the same.
The other person stopped and stared as his opponent, now without a shield, and then got rid of his own. They had both rid themselves of their protection of their own will, and now faced each other as equal men.
Hermione knew that without the shields, whoever would get a direct hit first would win, and had to take a deep breath to calm herself. The two stood facing each other for a moment and again spoke, words that for the rest of her life, Hermione would wish she could have heard, and then leapt into action.
Two spells were cast, and both were dodged, and the both rolled in different directions and fired again. This time, one of them was faster, and his spell shot like lightning at his opponent, who was hit on the side, and sent spinning away.
Hermione felt the world lurch under her feet as the person landed, and for a moment lay still, before slowly trying to get up. The grass under him was black with his own blood, and his opponent slowly walked over, to finish the deed.
This is it, Hermione thought, wishing desperately that there was more light, so she could see who was about to die. The man had managed to get to his hands and knees, but wasn't moving as the other came to stop in front of him, and lowered his wand.
No matter what, I will not weep, she reminded herself as she waited for the death stroke to fall. Suddenly, without warning, the man on his knees whipped his wand up from the grass and cast a spell right into the chest of the other, sending him flying away, to land on his back, not moving.
It was over. Both groups let out a horrendous yell, but she couldn't tell which side was yelling in victory, and which was screaming in defeat.
The living man walked over to where his opponent lay, looked down at him, and as the last beam of sunlight disappeared, made a feeble gesture of apology towards the two on the hill, before falling to his knees and then laying on his back as the clouds opened up and a gentle rain began to fall.
************************************************************************
Hermione Granger walked quickly through London's streets, making for her home on the outskirts of the city. Another busy day at the Ministry, as they all were, but she was glad to be on her way home at last.
Her best friends were coming over, and her husband had left work a little early to get things ready at home, so she hoped that by the time she got there, there wouldn't be much left to do. But her husband had the tendency to find distractions, so she could never tell what she'd be walking into.
At last she turned a familiar corner and saw her house, and quickly made her way to it, checking for the post as she entered the lawn. A few letters and notices, nothing out of the ordinary, until she saw one letter, written with an elegant hand on a slightly yellowed envelope.
She stopped where she stood and tore the letter open, and read:
My Dear Hermione and Ron,
(Ginny had started addressing Hermione in her letters as "my dear" ever since that fateful afternoon over a year ago.)
I apologize for the large amount of time since my last letter. We've been so busy, as I'm sure you have, and have hardly had the time to find peace enough to write, but I just thought I'd let you know that we've made a big discovery!
Here Hermione stopped. It's not just addressed to me she reminded herself, and there was another who should read it as well.
She quickly made her way to the front door and unlocked it. There was soft music playing in the house, and sounds coming from the kitchen and walked in to find Ron stirring some red sauce in a pot.
He looked up as she entered and smiled, but it faded when he saw the look on her face, and quickly moved over to her.
"What's the matter?" he asked, concern all over his face.
She held up the letter from Ginny as an answer and he sighed with relief. "Don't do that to me!"
"Do what to you?" Harry Potter said, walking into his kitchen and enfolding his wife in his arms. "Is Hermione picking on you again, Ron?" he asked, a smile on his face.
"What have I told you about that, Hermione?" Luna Lovegood asked good-naturedly, walking into the kitchen and slipping an arm around Ron's waist.
Hermione shrugged with a smile, and said, "Ginny sent Ron and I a letter."
"Still not addressed to me as well?" Harry asked, and Hermione shook her head. "I don't blame her," was all he said, and looked out the window at the yard, for a second lost in memory.
Hermione gently brushed her fingers across Harry's cheek and said, "Don't worry, love. She still needs time."
"Maybe not that much time!" Ron said excitedly. Everyone in the kitchen looked at him in surprise. "Didn't you read this, Hermione?"
"No, it was addressed to both of us, and I thought Harry should hear it too, so I waited."
"Listen," Ron said, starting to read aloud:
We've made a big discovery! We finally caught Lucius Malfoy, after a year of eluding us. Neville was of great help, and saved my life, though he's too shy to admit it. Lucius is standing trial soon, and I have no doubt that he'll be rotting in a prison for what he did to Draco.
I want you to know, all of you (since I can only assume that you're showing this to Harry as well) that I do not blame any of you, not even Harry, for Draco's death. He had no choice, and although the capture of Lucius has brought back a lot of emotions that I need to sort out, I do look forward to the day when we can all meet as friends again.
Until then,
Ginny
Once Ron was done, the kitchen fell into silence, each person lost in his or her own thoughts. Suddenly Harry broke the silence, excused himself and went upstairs into the little room that served both as Hermione's library and his study.
He pulled out a sheet or two of paper, took a deep breath, and began to write the words that he had kept inside since the moment he collapsed next to Draco's lifeless body a year ago:
Dear Ginny,
I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to write this letter. I know that after Draco's death I was the last person you wanted to hear from, which I understand. But after receiving your last letter, I thought it was time to let you know how Draco died.
It was his idea, you see. After we both lowered our shields, he said one thing to me: "Make it look real." He didn't need to say anything else; I knew what he meant.
When I asked if he was certain, he just looked up at where you were standing and nodded.
Harry smiled as wrote that line; the hard part was over. He worked for another several minutes before sealing the letter and putting it in one of the drawers. He'd mail it off in a day or so.
He then went back downstairs and joined his wife and two friends, who were happily talking in the kitchen. They quieted as he entered, but he merely walked over and put his arms around Hermione.
Ron held up the letter and asked, "So, what do you think about this mate? Sounds like she is on her way to forgiving you."
Harry shrugged and said, "Well, I suppose I can't ask for more." Smiling, Hermione lay her head against his chest as Luna laid hers on Ron's shoulder.
For a moment they stayed thus, letting the sun sink and the sweep of memory, loss and love roll over them.
Without saying it, they all knew Harry was right: none of them could ask for more.
-->