A Time For Goodbyes

A/N: Thanks to estatica for her insight on Ron. It was truly helpful. And especially thanks to my very talented beta, belovedranger. It's always a pleasure to work with you!

*****

“We’re with you whatever happens,” says Ron.

I nod firmly, agreeing with him. It’s the easiest and fastest decision I’ve ever made. I could never sit back and see my two best friends leave without me. It would be like losing a part of me. I would be sick with worry every minute they were gone. It doesn’t matter where we go or how we go about it – we’re sticking together, all three of us. It doesn’t even matter how many people or places we have to leave behind… or say goodbye to. I swallow hard just thinking of it, but I have to remain calm, composed.

I feel the sun shining bright and strong against my skin, but today the mood is heavier and gloomier than ever. I feel cold, so very cold. My eyes travel slowly, inspecting my surroundings. The environment is quiet, subdued, filled with a heavy grief. I can still see small waves rippling over the surface of the lake after the Merpeople have plunged deep inside it. Sounds of the forest creatures stomping back to their home can be heard in the distance.

Most of the students have gone back to the castle. Surely, they want to check that nothing has been left behind before boarding the Hogwarts Express. The people that are left around the grounds are whispering quietly in small groups, or seeking comfort in the hug of a friend. Much like me and Ron – no, not like us at all. Ron and I are different. Our friendship is special, stronger, unique… and complicated.

It’s not surprising how many people showed up to pay their respects, to say a final goodbye. After all, he was the greatest wizard who ever lived. A man so respected, so liked, so admired, and even so feared is dead. Professor Dumbledore is really gone. I have been repeating it to myself over and over for the past few days, hoping to convince myself, but it all seems so surreal.

I step closer to my friends, just a little, wanting to feel their presence. I have this overwhelming need to keep them near me as much as I can. I’m afraid to get distracted, to step back, and turn around to find them gone. I can’t lose them, no… not them; it would be too much to bear. I let out a tired sigh and rub my arms, hoping to create some heat. I’m too cold.

Harry, Ron, and I are standing here, underneath our favorite beech tree, waiting. For what? I’m not sure. We know we have to leave, but we seem to be standing still, our eyes shifting between the white tomb and the path back to the castle. Are we afraid to move? Maybe we’re not ready to say goodbye yet. Will we ever be? It doesn’t really matter, we have to move on. There are things to be done.

I feel Ron step even closer to me as he gently puts his arm around my shoulder. Without thinking, I rest my head against the crook of his neck, hoping to feel some of his comforting warmth, and I feel it instantly. His warmth travels all over me, and I’m no longer cold. Right now he’s my only support, and I’m his. We depend on each other to stand strong for our sake and for Harry. This closeness is our only comfort, our biggest ally. It comes naturally. There is no need to question it… Not now. There’ll be time for questions later.

“I reckon we should get back,” says Harry reluctantly.

I stand up straight, regretful to leave the comfort Ron provides. But Harry is right, we have to board the train back to London, and I have prefect duties to attend to. I look at and smooth down my robes, making sure they are wrinkle-free. I fix my prefect badge; it needs to be straight and visible to the rest of the students. I have an image to uphold, a duty to perform – and I will do my job.

Ron surprises me once more as he takes my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine. He gives me a weak smile and a meaningful look. I immediately understand. He’s making sure I know that he’s staying close, no matter what. But I already knew that, despite our rows, he’s always been there… a constant. Even when I ignored him, he was there. In the background, yes, but nearby… always present.

With one last fleeting look at the white tomb we start heading down to where the carriages await to take us down to the Hogsmeade station. Despite the tension in the air and the weight of what’s to come, right now I feel protected… somehow assured. To my right, there is Ron holding my hand, giving me strength and comfort. To my left, Harry, looking sad and determined, but he’s not pulling away. I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. He gives me an affectionate smile and with it I know our friendship is stronger than ever.

We have each other and that’s a great relief. Especially now that we’ve just said goodbye to a great man, and knowing that we’ll probably have to say goodbye to many more.

*****

I know Ron is irritable. I can see his short patience is starting to wear out. He’s been mumbling complaints ever since I had to force him to leave our compartment and do our patrols.

“This is pointless,” says Ron. “Nobody is out of their compartments, not even the Slytherins seem to be making trouble. We should just go back, and sit with Harry the rest of the journey.”

I look at him sternly. “We can’t, Ron. We have a job to do, and we’re going to do it. Professor Dumbledore would have expected us to.”

“Fine, but I still say it’s pointless!” he grumbles.

We continue patrolling the long corridor in silence. It feels as if the train is completely empty. The gloomy silence is making me nervous. All I can hear are occasional, short conversations, all mumbled out in whispers. The food trolley is not even surrounded by screaming students buying sweets. Part of me wants to find someone fighting or making trouble. Then I could do something about it and feel useful.

The noise from such a fight would distract away my thoughts. I can’t stop thinking how this is my last train ride on the Hogwarts Express. It’s the last time I wear my school uniform and my prefect badge. The last time I’ll be on the train, excited about the new school term that’s about to start. I’m never again going to feel anxious with curiosity to start classes, and learn new charms, new potions, or transfiguration lessons.

I sigh sadly and lean back against the door of an empty compartment.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ron lifts up my chin, and gives me a mischievous grin. “You’re not all upset because they are no misbehaving students to tell off, are you?”

“No!” I say indignantly. I roll my eyes, but my lips form a small smile. It’s scary how much he knows me.

“You know, we can always find Crabbe and Goyle. I’m sure we can find something to take House points away.”

I shrug indifferently. “Hogwarts might not even re-open; you think anybody is going to care about House points?”

“Don’t, Hermione. You can’t stop caring. The decision hasn’t been made yet. Hogwarts can still stay open. It’ll be there for us when we’re ready to go back.”

“Ron, you know we aren’t going back. With Dumbledore dead, Harry won’t want to go back.”

“I know.” He looks a little defeated. Maybe Ron will miss Hogwarts more than he’s letting on.

“I’m going to miss it. It’s been such a big part of our lives: The Common Room, the enchanted dinning hall, the classrooms, the library; having homework to do or books to read.”

“I’ve always known you’re mental,” he says good-naturedly. I know there is no real malice in his words.

“Oh, shush.” I look at him and decide that’s he right. This is not the way I want to spend my last train ride. “You’re right, the patrols are pointless. The train isn’t even half-full. Let’s go back and spend the rest of the ride with Harry.”

“Wait, Hermione. I… well, I wanted to know if you’re staying at the Burrow once we get to London? You know for a little while before we pick up Harry from his aunt and uncle.”

I avoid his eyes. I know that’s what he’s expecting, but I can’t. “My parents are expecting me home, Ron. I want to see them and spend some time with them before… well, you know, before we go off with Harry.”

“But it can be dangerous. Your house has no protective wards, and you might be the brightest witch of our year, but against Death Eaters that won’t matter. You have to come and stay with us. You know my parents won’t mind.”

“I know, Ron, but I want to go home. There is a lot I have to explain to my parents. You know that.”

“But what if they won’t let you come with us? Then what?”

“They’ll worry. I know that, but in the end they won’t ask me to sit back and go against everything I believe in.”

He looks at me skeptically. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Can we go back with Harry now?”

I know he’s not completely convinced by my assurance, but he understands. “Yeah, ok. But I’m going to tell Dad to connect your house to the Floo network, and I’m checking in on you every day.”

“You don’t have to, Ron.”

His eyes are filled with a mix of worry and determination. “I know that, but I want to. So, just don’t argue about this, please.”

“Ok.”

I see a shadow of relief cross his eyes. I love that he wants to take care of me and make sure that I’m all right. I give him an affectionate smile, and we walk back silently to the compartment where we had left Harry.

We enter the compartment and find him surrounded by good friends. There is Neville, looking so grown-up. There is no trace of the hesitant, shy boy that I first met. There is Luna, absorbed in an upside-down issue of The Quibbler. And of course, Ginny, playing with her Pygmy Puff and stealing glances at Harry, which he keeps avoiding. She looks miserable; the usual glint in her eyes is nowhere to be seen.

“Fancy a game of chess, mate?” Ron asks Harry, as he reaches up to retrieve his chess set from his trunk.

“Sure.”

For a moment it seems not like our last train ride, but like any other ride: Harry and Ron playing chess, Neville reading about Herbology, and Luna lost in her own world. But then I turn to Ginny and see in her the weight of what we all must be feeling. She gives me a sad smile, and I reach across to her and squeeze her hand.

I turn to face the window and contemplate the beautiful scenery rolling by. My head is replaying the memories we all have created at Hogwarts for the last six years. There was a troll, a huge chess set, classes, homework, the library, Quidditch matches, dangerous creatures, fights, mysteries to solve, an international tournament, a secret society, laughs, and misunderstandings. There were hard times, but mostly there were good times. I feel a tear roll down my face. It’s hard to say goodbye to a place that means so much.

*****

“It’s only been a week! It’s not enough time,” I moan out loud as I step away from my bedroom window. I wipe my face clean. I have to stop crying. I have been doing too much of it lately. Being home hasn’t been easy. And now that I’m about to leave, all the whirlwind of emotions come crashing back.

Seeing Mum and Dad has put me… um, I don’t know, at odds? Well, it certainly has been a week of contradicting emotions.

It’s been a fun distraction baking biscuits with Mum, but dreadful not being able to make plans for “the next round of baking.”

It’s been a relief to cry on her shoulder, and to finally be able to tell someone how scared I really am. It felt good to lie on her lap while she made soft circles on my back, and soothed my sobs with hopeful words that only a mother can find.

But then it was unsettling to hear her ask me, “When will we see you again?”

I mumbled incoherently, not having an answer, not wanting to lie. I could only cry harder and repeat over and over, “I’m sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry.”

It was challenging and exciting to play chess with Dad. I had forgotten how good he really is. I’m sure he can give Ron a run for his money. His triumphant smile at winning a long, demanding game is something I’m putting away in my most cherished memories.

Not long after, that smile had faded and was replaced with a deep frown and a menacing glare as I told him that I was not going back to school. That instead Harry, Ron, and I were planning to leave on an important mission.

My dad has never been one to yell. That’s why his shout of “You’re not leaving school, and you’re not going anywhere with two randy teenage boys!” caught me so off-guard.

Of course, I had expected him to disagree, to protest, but not to yell. He didn’t even wait for my reasons or explanations. He stormed off and locked himself in the study for hours, leaving me and Mum wide-eyed. Honestly!

If Dad knew Harry, he would know that he’s more like my brother than anything else. Harry would never try anything romantic with me. He’s too focused on Voldemort, and his heart belongs to Ginny. And Ron… well, he’s a different story. If he tried anything, it’d be more than welcome. Of course, I can’t tell that to Dad.

When he had calmed down, he sat down and willingly listened to all I had to explain. His anger and need to protect me from randy teenage boys turned into fear, and a more primal need to protect me from all evil. He effortlessly came up with a long list of reasons why our hunt for dark objects was such a dangerous idea. It broke my heart to see him so desperate, trying to convince me not to go. But it was useless.

Playing the “I’m of age and can do what I want” card was something I didn’t want to do. Mum and Dad already knew that, and in the end they wouldn’t be able to stop me. After all, they were the ones who raised me up to be strong-willed and independent. They had a right to know everything. I needed them to understand the reasons why I had to go, why I couldn’t stay back and be a spectator.

Very reluctantly, Mum and Dad finally understood. They accepted my decision, but not without asking many hard to answer questions. In very little time they had tried to grasp a world so different from theirs. It was a long night of explanations, warnings, tears and my repeated promise to be careful.

Deep down I always knew Mum and Dad would end up understanding. They too, were the ones who had taught me the importance of friendship, loyalty, and of fighting for what I believe in. They couldn’t ask me to go against everything they had passed down to me. I knew they were terrified about what could happen, but also a little proud.

Mum and Dad have to know that the Wizarding world is in the middle of a war. They have to be prepared. They’re in danger, and I hate it! I hate that they know so little about how to protect themselves. I hate that they’re targets, and have to be involved in something that shouldn’t involve them. Mum and Dad are two hard-working people who don’t hurt anyone. Why does this have to affect them?

Have I even thanked them enough for their unconditional love and support? Do they know how much I love them? Do they have any idea how hard is it going to be to leave, not knowing if I’ll ever be back? They must hate the day my Hogwarts letter arrived, changing my life completely. I wouldn’t want to have it any other way, but would they have preferred a more “normal” life for me?

I shake my head, trying to get all these doubts out of my head. It doesn’t do me any good; it just distracts me from what I’m supposed to be doing. There is still so much to do before Ron Floos in to pick me up. I don’t know why he insisted on coming. Doesn’t he know I’m perfectly capable of Flooing to the Burrow by myself? He does know, but he’s so thick-headed!

I look around, frustrated at seeing my room so messy. It’s time to get things in order.

“Alohomora.” I open my trunk to start filling it in. I have to pack… but what?

My bed is filled with scattered books, piles of clothes, and potion kits. What does one pack to go hunt for dark objects? I tap my foot and bite my lip, thinking of the most logical, the most useful things to take.

I start checking titles and separating my books. The books have to come, especially those about defense against the Dark Arts. I don’t want to pack too much. It would be inefficient, but having to leave my books behind is just not possible. What if we need them?

No, not what if? We will need them. I’m sure!

“Right, they have to come.”

The dress robes definitely stay. But, do I pack any other sort of witches’ robes? Probably not. It’s best not to draw any kind of attention. What I need is just practical, everyday clothes: jeans, t-shirts, and trainers.

I wave my wand mumbling, “Wingardium Leviosa,” and start filling my trunk with books, clothes, and potion kits. I’ll definitely need to stock up on potion ingredients. What I have here is not going to be enough.

I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and a soft knock on my door. Ron must be here. I wave my wand in a long, sweeping movement over what’s left to pack and see how it all flies and arranges itself neatly inside my trunk.

“Your mum said I could come up and see you,” says Ron from the small opening in my door.

“Of course, come on in. I’m almost ready.”

I see him walk in cautiously. His eyes are roaming every corner of my room. He has this curious look in his eyes. Did he imagine my room to be any different? I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He seems to be in awe of something, but of what? I have no idea. I cough discretely, trying to get his attention.

“Um… it’s nice. Your room I mean. It’s very you,” he says almost shyly.

But Ron isn’t usually shy. It must be hard for him to pay me a compliment. That was a compliment, wasn’t it?

“Well, thank you, Ron.” I give him a small smile.

He clears his throat; clearly he wants to change the subject. “Dad has arranged for us to pick up Harry from his relatives later tonight. There shouldn’t be any problems. We’ll be Flooing into Mrs. Figg’s fireplace and then walking over to Harry’s.”

“All right, that sounds sensible. Does Harry know?”

“I Owled him this morning, and Pig came back with a short response. He’s more than ready.”

“Of course he’s ready. He’ll be glad to leave those wretched people for good.”

“Are you ready, Hermione? Mum is expecting us for dinner. Nowadays, she gets really upset when anybody is late.”

I shrug my shoulders. I’m ready, but part of me doesn’t want to leave. Part of me isn’t ready for what’s to come. I walk over to my desk and look at the frame sitting there. It’s one of my favorite pictures of Mum, Dad, and me. It’s when we were on holiday in France; we had such a great time. I take out the photograph from the frame, and put it in my bag.

“All right, now I’m ready.”

Ron levitates my trunk down the stairs. I take my bag and muster up all my Gryffindor courage. I’m going to need it when I say goodbye to Mum and Dad. They’re waiting in the living room, looking warily at the flaming fireplace. They certainly haven’t seen anyone travel through fire before.

“Well, um, I’ll take your trunk and go first, Hermione,” says Ron, a bit uncomfortably.

“Wait, Ron,” says Dad suddenly.

I turn and give him a guarded look.

“Yes?” Ron mumbles out.

“Ron, Hermione is my little girl, and I know that she’s grown up and smart. But, that won’t stop me from worrying. Please take care of her. She trusts you and I can’t question her judgment, so that probably means you’re a good person. I trust you to look out for her. Please, Ron, she’s all we’ve got.”

My resolve not to cry is starting to crumble.

Ron is red-faced, but he doesn’t look away from my dad’s gaze. “I promise to do everything in my power to make sure Hermione is safe. I don’t want anything to happen to her either, sir.”

“Thank you. That’s all I can ask.” He holds out his hand, and Ron takes it. It’s like they have sealed a compromise of sorts.

Mum surprises Ron by leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek and a hug. He looks a little frightened. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he just pats her back awkwardly. I cover my mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Don’t be long,” Ron tells me, as he disentangles from Mum and walks toward the fireplace. He hands me a small velvet pouch. “Here, you’ll just need a pinch to Floo to the Burrow.”

I nod my head, and he disappears in the middle of the flames. I turn to face Mum and Dad, and my chest hurts. This isn’t going to be easy.

“I, um…” I forget what I wanted to say and instead bury myself in my mother’s embrace.

“It’s going to be all right,” she says. “You’re fighting for a good cause, and you’re going to come out of it just fine.”

I know she’s trying to convince me as much as she wants to convince herself. I swallow the last of my sobs and give her a kiss. I turn to my left and see Dad. He seems to be fighting hard to remain calm.

“I’ll write at every chance I get,” I say, wanting to let them know I’ll do my best to keep them informed.

“Just promise to be careful. Don’t do anything rash; always use your head first.”

“I promise, Daddy.” He smiles and I realize it’s been years since I called him Daddy. He gives me a lingering hug. I feel safe, like when I was five and he was there to calm me after a horrid dream.

“I’d better go.”

The longer I stay here, the harder it’s going to be to leave. I dig into the velvet pouch Ron gave me, and I take a pinch of Floo powder. I walk into the fireplace and without wasting any more time I shout, “The Burrow.” I instantly feel engulfed by the flames as I leave behind my childhood home, and most importantly, Mum and Dad.

*****

“Ron, don’t push me.”

“We’re moving like turtles. Why can’t you go any faster?”

“Because we’re supposed to be careful and quiet, or do you want us to wake up your whole family?”

“Shush!” says Harry. “What’s going to wake everyone up is you two rowing. Just let it go.”

Ron and I glare at each other and say no more. He can be such an insensitive git sometimes, honestly! As we near the end of the staircase, we hear voices coming from the kitchen. There is no way we’ll be able to leave unnoticed.

“Wait,” says Ron and holds us back. “Let’s just wait a bit. Trust me, we don’t want to go in the middle of an argument.”

I know it’s rude to listen to others’ conversations, but it’s hard not to listen. They’re not exactly being quiet, and the conversation is about us. So we have no choice but to listen.

“Arthur, we can’t let this happen. You have to do something to stop them.”

“What exactly do you want me to do? I cannot force them to stay here. You know that.”

“I know, but we should try to talk them out of it.”

“Molly, they’re not kids anymore. They have a right to make their own decisions.”

“Nonsense. They don’t know any better. They’re too young. They can’t possibly be ready to face the horrors of You-Know-Who.”

“They’re smarter than what you give them credit for, Molly. They’ll look out for one another. They know it’s too dangerous to do anything rash. You have to be able to trust them.”

“Oh, Arthur, I just wish that was enough. I’m terrified for them.”

“I know, Molly, I know.”

The conversation seems to have ended. Mr. Weasley is now hugging his wife and patting her back consolingly.

Harry clears his throat to announce our presence, and we walk into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley busies herself in front of the stove, and Mr. Weasley takes Ron aside to talk to him.

“I’ll wait outside,” Harry tells me. He gives Mrs. Weasley a quick hug and then hurries off outside.

I don’t think Harry wants to say goodbye to Ginny. He must not want any teary goodbyes. Last night, when we announced our departure and shared part of our plans, it had been hard enough. Ginny’s expression had alternated between anger, worry, and fear.

“Hermione, dear, I have fixed breakfast. You’ll all be hungry soon. It’s all packed and sealed,” she says and hands me a warm bag of food.

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

The silence is tense, but I can’t think of anything to say.

“Take care of Ron, Hermione. He’s impulsive and stubborn, but he listens to you. Don’t let him do anything rash.”

“I’ll do my best. I promise.”

Ginny now enters the kitchen and quickly scans the room. “Where is Harry?”

“I’m sorry, Ginny. He’s waiting outside.”

“Oh. Can you… can you just tell him to be careful?”

I nod my head and embrace Ginny in a fierce hug. I’m going to miss her terribly. She’s my only female friend, and I can’t stand seeing her so crushed. Harry can be such an idiot. Doesn’t he understand that Ginny is in danger, no matter whether they’re together or not? Doesn’t he realize they both need each other? At times like this, staying close to the ones you love makes more sense than being apart.

“Hermione, we have to go.” Ron comes close and hugs his sister. Despite their silly rows, they really care about each other.

We say our last goodbyes and step outside to look for Harry.

“Took you long enough,” he says with irritation.

I know he’s in one of his moods. We can’t start the journey snipping at each other, but I can’t keep quiet.

“Ginny deserves more from you, Harry. You should at least have said goodbye.”

“You don’t understand, Hermione, so just drop it.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand. You know, if it were me, I could never leave without telling someone I loved how I felt.”

Harry looks at me and then at Ron meaningfully. “You don’t have to leave someone behind to tell them you love them.”

I swallow hard and lower my gaze at his implied meaning. Am I being as obstinate as Harry, by keeping my feelings for Ron quiet? It this really a good time to talk about what should have been said months ago?

“Fine, I’ll be right back,” says Harry, and he runs back to the Burrow.

“It looks like you got through to him,” says Ron.

“It wasn’t me, Ron. He probably wanted it as much; he just needed a little push.”

“About what Harry said, um…I think he’s right.”

My head shoots up to look at him. What does that mean? “You do?”

He nods his head and bites his lip nervously. “Hermione, I…I’m not sure it’s the best time but…”

He’s gone quiet, but his eyes seem to be speaking louder than his words. They’re telling me how he feels; the love radiating from them is unquestionable. He clears his throat and gives me a small smile as if saying, “Please understand.”

I’m positively shaking. My heart is beating so hard that I’m sure it can be heard miles away. Ron takes my hands in his and steps dangerously close.

“I want you close. I need you close. You give me strength; you give me a reason to fight.”

Ron is now blushing furiously. I don’t want him to stop, so I give him an encouraging smile and look intently at his blue eyes. “Go on.”

“I love you, Hermione.” He lets out a long breath. “There, I’ve said it. I love you, and I was hoping that maybe you… well that is if you’re interested… maybe we could-”

I can’t wait anymore; I step up and press my lips against him. It’s a quick, chaste kiss. But he seems to like it. I feel his arms go around my waist, pulling me against his body. He licks his lips and leans down to kiss me. His lips are soft, warm, and I feel a delicious tingling sensation that quickly spreads all over me. This certainly was worth waiting for!

We pull apart, and Ron is looking at me with a question is his eyes. Oh, I haven’t told him, and he needs to hear it.

“Ron, do you have any idea how long I have waited for that?”

“For me to kiss you?” he asks cheekily.

I can’t help but giggle. Ron brings out the most girly side of me. “No, well yes. But what I meant is that I had been waiting ages for you to tell me you love me. I love you too, Ron.”

He gives me a wide smile. “Good. Now that it’s settled, can I kiss you again?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

And he doesn’t. Instead he cups my face and leans in to kiss me again. This time his kiss is different, less hesitant and more enthusiastic. Just as he is about to deepen the kiss, I hear a loud cough behind us. I instantly pull away from Ron, and he groans in disappointment.

“Well, it’s about time. Took you two long enough,” says Harry.

“Shut up, mate.”

Harry must see my mortification because he doesn’t say any more. His mood seems to have improved a bit. Going back to Ginny must have done him good.

Without saying anything else, we start walking up the hill away from the Burrow. It hasn’t been easy to leave so many people behind. But I’m extremely lucky to have Ron at my side. It would have been impossible for me to say good bye to him. The three of us together can face anything, and we’ll do it with the power of friendship and love on our side.