Every parent leaves something behind for their children to remember them by. Lily Evans didn't know, when she left her diary behind, that it would help her son into knowing her and himself…or did she?
Well, this is the last chapter before the epilogue, and I won't torture you with further ramblings…actually I might be torturing you with this. I had thought of just getting rid of this and the epilogue, but after several death threats from readers, I thought it would be best to keep it up. Anyway, I'll let you get back to the fic.
Harry Potter and the Knowledge of a Mother
By Pearl Drop Angel
Chapter 18: Life beginning
"Before you leave for your next course I will tell you your last assignment before your NEWTs, next week" McGonagall announced. Ron's voice above all was heard booing and complaining. "I believe you all would wish to know the assignment before detesting it," and with that most of the Gryffindor/Slytherin (the latter greatly diminished after the battle of Hogwarts two months earlier) quieted down, knowing that when she spoke so the assignment had a good chance of being interesting.
"As you know the Graduation Ball will be held in a short time," that had been the main topic of conversation, besides the Quidditch games that had finally begun, since the return from the forced break. "Yet, none of you had robes," McGonagall pointed out.
"It wasn't in the list of required materials at the beginning of the year," one of the few Slytherins pointed out sourly. One of the main reasons why this Grad Ball was so argued over was the fact that, apparantly, it was to be attended by the students wearing their school uniforms. Not a pleasant idea.
"And for a good reason," McGonagall replied sharply. Many heads perked up. "Your last assignment will be the tranfiguration of your formal attire for the evening, which will be in entirely Muggle fashions," Dumbledore's idea. "I will grade your assignment at the dance, don't bother trying to cheat, I have taken precautions. I advice you all to use this last week to catch up on your lost studying before your NEWTs begin," and with that she dismissed them.
As the trio left the classroom, Ron was complaining, as usual. "How do they expect us to take the NEWTs after all we did this year? I mean, the diary, Duel Training, Training with McGonagall, the battle, a month of no lessons, and the Quidditch games!" While Harry told Ron that Duel and Animagus training had already been considered into their grades (as heavy extra credit), that the month with no lessons should have been used for studying, that Quidditch had never stopped exams, and that he'd hardly participated in the diary's reading, Hermione was smiling broadly, thinking that she'd started to rub off on her boyfriend, and that she couldn't wait for the dance to begin.
°*°
Mr Dursley was nervous as he sat behind his office desk. Moreso than he had been for the past two months. The worse two months that he could remember in a long time. His life had been hell since that nephew of his had come home because his school had been closed down, and his lovely house had been invaded by freaks, his son had been possessed by the most evil of all of them, and the neighbors were still not satisfied with the feeble answers that he and his wife had been trying to feed them.
He scoffed angrily. Nobody even remotely believed that the blinding surge of white glaring light that had filled up the entire street was a result of a power shortage in the home's illumination circuit. And Miss Figg, who was a freak herself and had never told them, was only making it worse by going to everybody telling them that Harry was a wonderful boy and a hero to both worlds.
Two months had passed, and still, everyday, hundreds of owls flew everywhere with letters in their beaks, telling other freaks of what his nephew had done. That particular day there seemed to be five times as many. Obviously those idiots were up to something. And what was worse was that some of them knew him-how? He didn't wish to find out-and they would come up to him to congratulate him on what a wonderful job he'd done raising him.
Definitely the worst two months he'd passed in a long time. A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. "Come in," he called gruffly.
Meekly, Christy, or whatever her name was, announced a certain Steven Creevy, who was there on appointment. Vernon grunted, and she let the man in, then leaving terrified. She was the third secretery this month. Looking at his notes, Mr Dursley noticed, that this Creevy fellow was a representor of a good company willing to heavily invest in his drills. His guest was also a little too cheerful looking for Vernon's tastes, but that didn't matter. This could possibly become the most important deal of his life. "Hello, Mr Creevy," he began, his round, red face broadening in his most 'friendlly' smile. "Please have a seat! Would you like a drink?" He began to shower the man with attentions, taking out a bottle of fine imported liquor (for important clients only).
"Oh, please call me Steven," he began sitting down with a wide smile, "and a drink would be wonderful." Vernon grinned, pulled out two glasses, filled them generously, and handed a glass to his client, trying to start up a good lecture on his company's drills. But Steven interrupted him. "Actually, I already convinced my boss of using your drills, I came to speak with you for another reason," he said quietly, leaning forward in a manner of conspiracy.
Vernon's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh?" He asked as he went to put the bottle away.
"Yes, I wanted to talk about Harry Potter," Steven replied with a large, proud looking grin. The bottle almost slipped out of Vernon's hand. Then his grip tightened so much it was a miracle the bottle stayed intact.
"Oh?" He repeated, his voice tight now. "Harry?" The grip around the bottle tightened even more, almost as though it were his nephew's neck he pictured in his hold.
"My three sons go to school with him. Gryffindors, just like him. They all like him very much. They told me that he had a lot of problems in school because of who he was. Once a reporter wrote all sort of scandalistic articles about him, and even made him out to seem insane! Oh, but you must know all that already," Steven seemed to never draw breath, but as he kept speaking, it was Vernon's face that kept becoming red, as though there were no air reaching his brain anymore. "He must be very strong to be able to go through something like that like he did! You sure did a great job raising him, he's practically the savior of the two worlds! I'm sure that, if a Minister was at head of the Ministry now, Harry would have at least the second class Order of Merlin! I personally don't know anything about what it might be, but my kids say it's very prestigious!"
Vernon's smile was beginning to slip. And then, something that worked magic on him managed to work its way out of Steven's mouth. "Has the Senator come to congratulate you yet?"
As soon as the "S" word registered in Vernon's mind, the mouth was already forming the question, "What Senator?"
"Oh, you're right, he's retired now, but his ties at Buckingham palace are still so strong that most of us call still call him with the name of Senator," Steven answered absentmindedly. Vernon's eyes were shining with stars.
"Why would a Senator come to congratulate me?" Not that he cared, the prospect sounded very proficuous.
"Why, on Harry's victory over You-Know-Who!" Peter replied as matter of factly as was possible. Vernon's expression must have shouted confusion. "Oh! You mean you don't know?" Vernon didn't even need to ask what it was that he didn't know. "The Senator's daughter and her entire family are magical! Very powerful, too. Last I heard the girl's oldest son was getting married to a very rich wizard who worked for the Ministry," he told Vernon.
Vernon's mind was spinning. How did someone become Senator when he had daughter and grandchildren in the weirdo community? He wanted to find out more about this.
Just then, he heard a tapping sound at his shoulders from outside the window. He turned around to see one of those tawny owls waiting for him to open, an envelope in its beak. He was pretty sure he recognized it from that first summer some years earlier when he burned over a hundred letters. The sight didn't really enthuse him.
"Ah!" Steven exclaimed, getting up and letting the bird in. "Must be from Hogwarts! Probably to tell of Harry's good deeds," the man seemed convinced that the boy could do no wrong. And he was also very rude! He was reading Vernon's post! "Oh, it's the invitation to Harry's graduation ceremony! I imagine that it must be rather wonderful at Hogwarts. Next year Colin, my oldest, will graduate, too. Can't wait for the day," he blabbered while handing Vernon the envelope, letter, and three tickets for the Hogwarts epress.
There were too many questions that Vernon wanted answered. "Steven, would you like to have dinner in my home tonight?" If it meant getting answers this and more. Besides, just because the man's children were freaks, didn't mean that he'd make one of Vernon's family float above the dinner table. Right?
Several hours later, after Vernon asked incessant questions to Steven-who had just dismissed himself-the round man sat thinking in his living room, thoughtfully rubbing his proud mustache.
That's it! He'd decided. "Petunia," he called as he walked in the kitchen to find his wife washing the dishes. She looked behind her shoulder to acknowledge his presence, and went back to wiping a plate. "We are going to that graduation!" He annouced suddenly, sounding, scary as it may be, exited at the prospect.
The dish that was once in Petunia's hand was heard crashing on the floor. "What? Why?" She asked petrified.
"Well, you heard the man!" He repeated, as though it was an obvious answer to a stupid question. "One out of eight people knows about the wizarding world. One out of twenty is in close contact with either members of that world or that world itself. And Harry's their hero!" He was definitely too exited at the prospect. "It could be more good than we ever thought."
At that, even Petunia seemed eerily exited.
°*°
"Harry, look at McGonagall," Hermione's warm laughing breath tickled his ear as she told him to do so. With difficulty he managed to concentrate on something beside the girl that he was dancing with long enough to notice that their transfiguration teacher was making her way between the dancing couples with a notepad in hand, writing down grades for their last tranfiguration assignment.
He chuckled half heartedly. Honestly, the only thing that had managed to really take his attention off his date for the night had been the earlier difficulty in keeping Ron from killing Malfoy for having appeared in the Great Hall with Ginny hanging on his arm. At first they'd bound him, then they'd told him that he couldn't hurt Malfoy even if he tried because his sister was in life debt with him, and then they'd given up and handed him to Krista.
Somehow the chaos had stopped then. Which had left Harry lost in the arms of the girl he loved, with the thought of the hardest task of his life in front of him.
She'd truly stunned him tonight. She was always beautiful, but tonight. Tonight there were no words. Her hair had been loosely pulled back and arranged in the shape of roses, bunched at the nape, small white flowers placed in the center of each one and around loose curls, leaving her perfect face unmasked. Her knee length white dress, simple, with spaghetti straps and a wide skirt, conservative in cut, innocent in color, seductive in the fact that it left her back and calves bare (and undeniably sexy). Coincidentally, when he'd seen her descend from the Gryffindor dormitories he'd wanted to ask her right then and there, but thankfully, he'd managed to stop himself.
He sighed. She was so beautiful. He still could not understand how such a wonderful, loving creature could love him, of all people. She was the only one that knew him for what he was, and loved him for it. That, along with the fact that she was by far the most wonderful woman on the face of the planet, was what made her so beautiful in his eyes. Just the fact that she was Hermione. His Hermione.
"Harry?" Her soft, worried call brought him back to Earth once again for the enth time that night. "Are you alright?" She asked, her eyes worried as they met his.
His eyebrows touched his hairline. "Of course, why wouldn't I?" After all, I'm near you. How could I not be alright? He asked her mentally.
She looked to the floor embarrassed, a blush tinging her cheeks, her light, slightly transucent make-up doing nothing to hide it. "It's just that…you seem so distracted. It doesn't look like you're having much fun…is there something wrong? Am I doing something wrong?" She was still so insecure of how he felt toward her. He told her everyday that he loved her, but she'd told herself that he couldn't possibly care for her as more than a friend for the past seven years. Seven years were hard to beat.
Harry looked outraged. "Of course not, Hermione! You're wonderful," he told her honestly. She blushed profusely, her eyes hopeful when she looked at him. "You're wonderful," he repeated, "but maybe I am a little distracted," her eyebrows furrowed at this. He seemed to be pondering something for a while. "Come outside with me?" Confused and curious, she nodded, took his hand, and led him outside, into the courtyard. The entire place had been filled with fairies and fireflies, and it was charmed to look as though the very air shimmered.
Romantic as it was, strangely enough, it was desolated, probably because it was still rather early. Which suited Harry just fine. He wanted to be alone with her. They walked in silence, Harry concentrating on the words he was planning to tell her, until they reached the outskirts of the lake, a lover's bench conveniently placed there.
She sat down, patting the seat next to her. He slid down next to her and sighed heavily. He'd never been so nervous in his life. But he knew he had to do this. Wanted to do this. He knew that Hermione was still not confident about what they had yet, and, in truth, neither was he. For seven years, they weren't allowed to love each other. It was hard to forget those, even with all the love that they shared everyday. Physically and emotionally. Every touch, caress and kiss was cherished. But the uncertainty remained. He needed to ask the question. Know that it was real. The night that Voldemort had finally died, they hadn't spoken, just kissed.
And maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe they should have discussed their feelings. But in truth, Harry had preferred it this way. He'd gotten to know Hermione as his girlfriend over the two months, grown to love her more with each passing day, gotten to the point that he understood that he couldn't possibly live his life without her by his side. Even if just for the reassurement of it, he needed to know.
"Hermione," he began finally, after the silence had stretched uncomfortable between them, "I need to say something…important…" he stumbled, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Oh, Merlin, this was hard. He looked at her to see tears forming in her eyes. "Hermione?" He asked, worried and puzzled.
"Please, Harry," she pleaded, her voice strained and hushed, "don't say it," she sobbed. "Please, don't say it," she repeated.
Okay, now he was seriously worried. "Hermione?" She stood up away from him, hugging her arms around her.
"Please, Harry, don't say it. I can't look at you while you tell me that you just want to be friends," she begged. Oh, why had she worn make-up? She should have expected this. She should have at least charmed her mascara to be waterproof.
He watched her, shocked. "Hermione," he placed a hand on her shoulder and she cringed. He felt like crying himself, now. "Hermione, that's not at all what I wanted to say. You know that," he turned her around to face him. "Going back to being just friends would kill us both." It was only after he said it that he realized how stupid it had been.
She sobbed as she tried to turn again, but he held her. "You don't need to specify, Harry," she told him bitterly, looking away. "You've been painfully clear already."
No! No! This was not the way it was supposed to be. "Hermione, look at me," she refused to. He gently cupped her chin to lift her face, but she kept her eyes downcast. He could only think of one thing to do at that moment. He slowly inched his face closer to hers, giving her all the time to pull away. She looked like she was ready to bolt, but before she could he told her the only thing that came to mind. "I can't live without you," and when she froze at hearing his words she felt his lips graze hers in the most tender, sweet, innocent kiss that they'd shared yet. He was always tender when he touched her, and when he made love to her she felt like she would burst from all the love that he was filling her with, but this had been different from anything ever before.
With his gentle lips he was trying to fill her with the knowledge of the fact that he loved her more than his own life.
"I can't live without you," he repeated as he leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his tongue licking his lips. "I can't live without you," he pulled away slightly to look at her. This time she was returning his gaze. "That's what I wanted to tell you tonight," istinctively, he found his hand going to his tuxedo pocket, touching the small that box he hid there through the fabric of his slacks. It wasn't the time to pull it out yet, but somehow it gave him strength, perheaps because of what it signified. "Hermione, when Voldemort possessed my body, at the Dursleys, he was making me lose myself by telling me of what he'd do to you once I'd be gone. I thought that, until then, I'd protected you by hiding what I felt, but I didn't, because he knew, when he was inside me, what I really felt about you. And in the end, I couldn't have survived without you. And I liked knowing that we'd protected each other," he took a deep breath before continuing.
"Everytime we make love in your room, I wake up earlier just to be able to watch you sleep. I love you, Hermione," he told her. " And I want to be able to watch you sleep next to me every day of my life. I want to hear your laugh, and watch your face light up when you talk about something new that you just learned. I want to protect you and be protected by you," his voice was choking by now. "Please, don't even joke about going back to being friends!" He begged. "Before we got together it was the best I could hope for…but now, I couldn't go back to that. I can't live everyday with the need to hold you, knowing that I can't!" He pleaded. "Tonight, I wanted to tell you this. I wanted to ask you…I wanted to ask you not to take your love away from me. Just…please, don't leave me. Not now, not ever." It was strange making this speech, because it had not been the one that he'd wanted to do. Or rather, it was, but the most important thing that he'd wanted to say had been left out. But he understood that it would have to wait for another time. They were both stll too insecure.
Hermione just stared at him, a tear escaping her eye, staining her cheek with her black mascara, and the darkest fear clutched at his heart. Oh, Merlin, she really doesn't love me after all. Nervously, he touched the small box in his pocket again. But she would never except it. Maybe he should just leave. And slowly, he began to back away.
As soon as Hermione realized what he was thinking she stopped him by grabbing onto his free hand, both of hers going to envelope his, bringing his fingers to her mouth so that she could kiss him tenderly. She kissed each knuckle as though it was sacred, another small tear escaping her eye. "A-are you…sure, Harry?" She asked uncertainly.
He tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He nodded. "Yes," he answered. "I love you, Hermione, and I know you love me," he knew he didn't sound as confident as he wanted to, but it seemed to reassure her, "so why are we still torturing each other?" He asked.
"I'm just really scared that one day you'll wake up and see that you could have it better," she told honestly, her face streaking even more.
"Hermione, there is no such thing as better. And even if there was, I wouldn't want it. I want you. It's always been you," he told her truthfully.
And then they kissed again.
The box in Harry's pocket untouched but not forgotten. This just wasn't the right moment to ask. The time would come soon.
°*°
"Thank God the NEWTs are over!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed as he stretched out on the grass by the lake, Ginny Weasley sitting at his side, smiling at his antics. It wasn't often that they managed to spend much time alone without Ron coming to break them up with a threat to Draco's life.
"What will you do after this?" She asked curiously. They'd never discussed the matter before.
He shrugged. "Well, everybody expects me to take my father's place in the Ministry," he replied uncertainly.
She knit her eyebrows. "So you'll do that?"
He shrugged again. "I don't think so," his eyebrows furrowed as well. "Maybe I'll further my studies of potions," he thought out loud.
"Would you like that?" He'd always been particularly fond of potions, and he seemed to have fun with it.
He thought before answering, "Yeah…"
She grinned at his uncertainty. "Than go for it!"
He grinned as well. Her enthusiasm was always contagious to him. Then a thought struck him, and he sobered. Noticing his change of mood she did too, and an uncomfortable silence befell over them. It stretched on until it was almost unbearable, until he asked, "Will you wait for me?" He'd spoken the words so softly that they seemed to have been whispered by the wind. But she knew she'd heard them from him.
And she answered the truth, like she always had. "Always."
Wordlessly, he slid his hand across the grass to hold hers. In agreement, in mutual support, and in love.
°*°
"Petunia, this isn't your first time! You should know how to do it!" Vernon shouted at his wife, who was, currently, staring at the barrier between tracks 9 and 10 as though behind it there were the lion's den.
"Oh, Vernon, please don' t make me do this again, you don't know what it's like!" She whined loudly, getting the negative attention from several passers-by. Dudley stared at the barrier as though it would reveal itself to be a giant mouth out to eat him.
"Oh, look, dear, it's the Dursleys!" A feminine voice said behind them. They both turned around to see a couple that they'd met only once in their lives. The Grangers. They heaved a large sigh of relief.
That was, of course, till they saw Molly and Arthur Weasley behind them, followed by five young redheads, two of which were very familiar to the Dursleys. Fred and George.
"Hey, look, Fred! The pig in a wig grew up!" Exclaimed George.
"Yes, he's a pale whale now!" Replied Fred.
Dudley ran through the barrier screaming.
For nought, because once they'd all crossed the barrier, they all ended up sharing a train compartment.
And the three young redheads that the Dursleys hadn't known before, along with Mrs Weasley, were not any less abnormal then the twins (though they weren't quite as evil).
°*°
"Harry!"
Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, turned around to see the source of the voice that had called to him. A wide grin was born on the boy's face. "Sirius!" He called back, going to hug the man. "I knew they'd call you to come and watch the graduation!" Harry exclaimed, thanking God that the Dursleys wouldn't be coming. Not like they ever would anyway, unless they were out to make his life hell, but he couldn't picture them coming all the way to Hogwarts for that. Then again, it was their last chance. Tomorrow he would be living in a flat in Diagon Alley with Sirius, who had been cleared of charges two weeks earlier, after the hearing in which he and Wormtail had been questioned under the effects of Veritaserum. Peter Pettigrew had receaved the Dementors kiss right after the hearing had closed.
"Hermione!" The dark man called to her, inveloping her in his arms. "Why on Merlin's Earth are you not moving in with Harry and I?" He hadn't understood Harry when he'd told him that.
She shrugged, and Harry replied for her. "Because this way I get to court her. We never got to date much here at Hogwarts," he said, enveloping her in his arms, effectively hiding her body under his Quidditch uniform. In a way, because of the way the year had unfolded before them, Harry and Hermione had never had a real chance to date. And even if they were practically already engaged, they'd both mutually decided that it was something that neither wanted to miss out on. They already knew each other inside out as friends, they wanted to know each other as lovers as well.
Sirius sighed. "So that means that I can't peek on Hermione in the shower until you two decide to grow up," he mocked. Harry made him see stars with a well placed kick between the legs. It was obvious that Cicciobello's education had been mostly Sirius's work.
"The day she moves in I kick you out," Harry huffed. He knew Sirius had been kidding, but the idea was still unpleasant. Besides, Sirius was always protected against this eventuality and had worn his 'armor', therefore, Harry's kick hadn't fazed him.
"Aw, brother's jealous," Cicciobello cooed from above their heads. Ron was with him.
"Ciccio!" Sirius shouted, his arms wide open.
"Papi!" Ciccio launched himself in his gut. How could Sirius take all those hits they had no idea. It seemed, though, that he would be receiving quite a few in the future, because they'd decided to keep the satanic doll with them in their flat. Harry's life was prospecting to be rather exciting.
"Ooh, look Vernon, they're over there!" A familiar voice squealed from behind Harry.
He wheeled around horrified. Oh, no! Even his eyes confirmed what his ears had told him. "A-aunt Petunia?!" He didn't know whether to scream or run for cover. Especially when she walked over to him and began plucking imaginary pills off of his uniform.
"Oh, here is my little Harrykins;" she cooed. Harry was ready to scream. She was dusting off his shoulders with a clothes brush, "don't you look hansome? These colors are wonderful on you!"
"Think she's under the Imperius?" Ron asked disgusted.
Harry, meanwhile was trying to back away from her, bringing Sirius to act as a human shield. "Aunt Petunia?" He asked uncertain.
"Yes, dear?" She asked, using the fake smile that she used when speaking to Mrs Crownings, the attractive widow who had recently inherited a large amount of money and lived next door.
This was really becoming eerie. "What are you doing here?"
"Why, we're here to watch you graduate," wait, that wasn't Petunia's voice. It was Vernon's! And there was Dudley, too.
"Hello, Harry, dear," oh, finally! A friendly voice. Mrs Weasley came over to give him a hug, then moving on to her own son, who complained about being greeted after Harry.
"Hey, Harry! I heard you and Hermione were going out!" Fred (or was it George?) patted him heartily on the back. Harry wasn't sure that he should have done that. Had Hermione even told her parents-who were, he noticed, standing right there behind him greeting their daughter-about their relationship?
"Yeah, good catch, Harry!" George (or was it Fred?) complimented him. "Mind if we borrow her sometime? That Holostar idea was brilliant!"
"Oh, but why are you two wearing your Quidditch uniforms?" Mrs Weasley asked confused. Usually the students wore graduating robes at the event, and she would know after her own ceremony and the ones of her four already graduated sons.
"Oh, since this year started so late we rushed all the games together, but then Dumbledore thought that it would be interesting to hold the finals before the graduation ceremony," Ron answered. "You should see the stands! They're four times bigger than usual."
Just then McGonagall's voice boomed from nowhere, almost like a loudspeaker. "Students and parents are required to reach the Quidditch field to watch the Quidditch cup finals between Gryffindor and Slytherin houses. The graduation ceremony will be held shortly after the game. All the non-magical people, please reach the courtyard where Head Girl Hermione Granger will be waitiing to bring you to your assigned seats." And with that the announcement ended.
Hermione turned to Ron and Harry. "Go on, you two! You need to give your team the pep talk before the big game," she told them, slightly shoving them in the direction of the Pitch, which had been disinfested at about the same time the school had reopened after the battle.
Harry lingered however, "I want my good luck kiss first," and with that he pecked her quickly, not really getting the kiss he wanted because of the 'audience' and their distrating, mood disrupting sounds.
He ran away when he heard aunt Petunia say "Aww…they're so sweet, Vernon, they remind me of us when we were dating!" That was one heck of a scary thought.
"Hey," Ron whined, "why do you get a good luck kiss?"
Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Huh?"
"Krista only kisses me if I win," he explained with a pout. "Says that way I play better."
Harry shrugged. "Suits you." He couldn't possibly live without Hermione's good luck kisses. Actually how had he survived till then?
°*°
The crowd cheered again as Julie Andies, a fourth year Chaser, scored against the Slytherin Keeper. The game was tied, 110-110. And it had lasted quiet a bit. It might have actually ended after the first two minutes, when he and Malfoy had both gone into a dive after the Snitch, had not his aunt screeched something completely untrue and distracting (their brooms lost control!), making both the Seekers nearly fall off their brooms. Usually a game was full of shouts, and screams, and boos, and everything, but a horrified screech didn't happen often, so the game was thrown off.
Since the Snitch had been lost, he looked over to see Hermione putting some kind of mouth shutting hex on all the Dursleys, while getting an incredible amount of applause from the Muggle parents.
After that, the Snitch had disappeared. And so had his concentration. Somehow, at the most inappropriate moment, he'd begun to think of the little velvet box he kept in the folds of his uniform. He suddenly felt the urge to give it to Hermione, almost as though the ring was telling him that it was the right moment. But how could it be the right moment?! He was in the middle of a bloody game!
Concentrate, Harry! The sooner you catch the bloody thing, they sooner the game's over, and, of course, Harry had to catch the Snitch. It was his last Quidditch game. After vacation he would start his training as an Auror with Hermione. He wanted to close with a bang. And he wanted to celebrate the victory with Hermione.
And then, almost as though his thoughts had summoned it, Harry saw it. The Golden Snitch. It was hovering near the ground, just below Malfoy.
And that was a dilemma. Malfoy was closer, but he was faster, and had a better broom. Should he risk it? There was always the chance that his movement brought Malfoy's attention to it, but he could always count on better speed. He smirked. Maybe he could just have a little fun.
Turning his broom sharply away from Malfoy, Harry dove to the ground, and, as expected, he could hear Malfoy's broom right behind him, chasing him. Flattening his body against the broom, and holding himself in a position in which he'd be able to see the actual Snitch, he kept on precipitating to the ground, and then, when he was sure that Malfoy was concentrating more on what might have been beyond Harry rather than on Harry himself, he did it.
He lifted the angle of his broom by 90°, spinning his broom madly all the while for speed, reaching the spot where the Snitch had been fluttering when he'd seen it, and then catching up to the elusive little sphere, grabbing it while in the midst of a loop-de-loop. Just for effect.
The crowd went wild. But he cared little. He'd won. His teammates were all hugging him, crying, and all he could think about was Hermione. And so he burst out of the clutter of dirty, sweaty Gryffindors, and lifted himself to the Muggle section of the stands. Hermione was there, in the front row, applauding him, tears in her eyes. He simply held his hand out to her. He knew she still feared heights, but he also knew that she trusted him enough to ride a broom with him, no matter how high they'd go.
She stepped onto his broom, and, wordlessly, they kissed. It wasn't just the victory kiss. Something must have happened in the stands. He'd sensed it only moments earlier. "Hermione?"
She smiled sadly. "I made your aunt's mouth disappear, along with your uncle's and your cousin's," he smiled in return, he could have seen that for himself. "They…they were talking about you as though you were some sort of prize, and I just wanted them to stop, so I…" she trailed off.
"Thank you," he kissed her again. He rummaged through the folds of his robes and brought out the box that had been torturing his thoughts for weeks now. "I know this isn't the time to ask this. I actually wanted to ask you at the Grad Ball, but it just didn't seem like the right time. I said that I wanted to watch you sleep everyday of my life, and I meant it. I want to watch you fall asleep in my arms after we make love, and I want you to wake up next to me after I kiss you goodmorning," he took a deep breath before he continued. "Hermione, I'm asking you to marry me," she gasped, and fresh tears began to form in her eyes as she saw him opening the small box. Inside of it stood a thick band of white gold with intricate powerful carvings, and in the center of those celtic carvings were a sapphire and a ruby cut into each other, two halves of a whole circle.
The ring was beautiful, and it seemed to be made especially for the two of them. Maybe it was.
"Hermione, I love you," he told her again. "And I'm not asking you to marry me now, but I didn't want to give you a promise ring, like dad had given mom, because I want to look at you and know that the ring you'll be wearing on your finger will be there forever. That one day it'll sit next to a wedding band," he kissed her briefly. "I want to marry you one day. I want to be the father of your children, and I want to grow old next to you, holding your hand, protecting you while you protect me. Forever."
She was crying again. But she was smiling as radiantly as she had been the day Voldemort disappeared. And then she nodded once. "Yes," she whispered quietly, and, without even knowing it, he was slipping the ring on her finger, kissing her like there was no tomorrow, completely unaware of the crowd cheering them on and wishing them well.
°*°
He didn't know where the afternoon had gone by. He just knew that it was already time to board the train (thankfully he'd be sharing the compartment with Hermione and the Weasley children), that he'd already said goodbye to Hagrid (who had to run away to hide his tears) and that it was time to leave everything he'd come to know and love
The Graduating Ceremony had been nothing but a blur. All he remembered were a lot of lights and floating, and fireworks, and speeches, and giant Holostars. He didn't remember one word that was said the entire time. Maybe because he was concentrating entirely on the hand that was holding Hermione's, playing with the ring now shining on her finger. The only speech that he'd remembered had been Hers, probably because most of it had been about them.
And about leaving Hogwarts.
It had seemed as though she'd written it especially for him. And maybe she had.
"Coming to Hogwarts some of us were scared, because it meant that we would be starting a new life away from the safety of our parents' arms, a place where we were supposed to be capable of taking care of ourselves, because, at least for eight months, we would have to stay away from everything that we'd come to depend on.
"There were others though, that were exited. Coming here meant that they would finally find a place where they would belong, because in the Muggle world their powers were something horrible and detested.
"All of us have come to think of Hogwarts as our home. Here we've made friends that we will never forget, learned things that we couldn't have anywhere else, here we found a new life.
"Here we found a new light to live by.
"And now, we're leaving Hogwarts. It's an unsettling thought, because now that light won't be there to guide us in our lives anymore. We won't have our teachers giving us the advice that most of us found vital. We won't be together the way we are anymore, because all of us are going in different directions. But most of all, we'll have to leave our home.
"Honestly, I'm a little scared, but Hogwarts taught me that I can walk any path so long as I can hold the hands of the people that I've come to love.
"After all, Hogwarts is only a castle. This wonderful castle with its enchanted ceilings, and moving stairs, and talking paintings, and ghosts, and house elves.
"Wonderful as all that is, there's more to Hogwarts than that.. Hogwarts is love. And its that love that lit out way during our stay here.
"Keep that love with you always, and you'll always have the light. That light will always be your home, and it will always give you something, or someone, to come back to."
Quietly, he felt Hermione's fingers entwining with his. She was staring at the sun setting behind the towers of Hogwarts, just like he'd been. Then he heard her chuckle. "It's going to be so strange having your aunt and uncle around all the time," she sighed. They both knew full well that they'd only come to take advantage of the situation, but that didn't make it any less…disturbing.
Harry sighed, knowing that Hermione understood everything he felt, and that she was trying to cheer him up, because she felt it, too. "My life started when I came to Hogwarts," he told her, and her hold tightened on his hand. "Now I feel like that life is coming to an end."
"No, Harry," she said, turning him to face her. "It's only just beginning."
Looking at her, he knew she was right. And, hand in hand, they mounted the train, and took their seats, letting the movement of the train on its tracks lull them into sleep as it lead them toward the beginning of their new lives.
To be continued.
Sorry, but I suck at writing Quidditch games. Oh, and I found out that the Creevey father is supposed to be something like a milkman after reading over the books again, but I didn't know who I could switch him with, so let's just close an eye or something. You know the drill. Let me know what you think at Robbygal@hotmail.com or leave a review.
Love
Pearl