Author's Note :
Whoa ! Finally some dialogue! I was afraid poor Ron and Hermione would have to use pantomimes to get understood… And now some fluffiness and friendship ahoy!
I just realized how saaaaaaaaad last chapter was.
Short Chappie! The other one was long enough!
The whole part Hermione explains about Harry is weird I know. But one friend told me that when one of our common friend died in an car accident, SO DON'T BITCH ABOUT IT. Over.
On with the story!
Amscary: OOoee! Adorable! You are right; the Barrow gang (rebaptised the 'Burrow Gang') would be composed out of several persons we all know. No;- Fleur will not be there; but yes, an older Weasly member is going to be there with his spouse.
Rudolph is Rodolphus; I got those named a bit confused. (Personally I thought it was weird that a villain had the same name as the reindeer that saved Christmas, but then I just thought "Haha! The irony!"). You are truly adorable. Thank you for your nice reviews.
Chapter Four: Harry.
After the final battle, Hermione and Ron were brought to Saint-Mungos, where Hermione's arm was nursed back to healthy. It hadn't lasted long to fix the problem; her arm was in such a terrible condition they dissolved her bones and made her drink skele-grow. Hermione stayed three full days in hospital before leaving. Ron was brought into an intensive operation room where he was checked against all interior damage. He would be forced to drink a certain potion for the rest of his life: the potion in the bullet had have time to get into his system.
A week after the battle, they moved back into muggle London, enjoying the first summer days. They didn't need to back to work for a month; they were officially on convalescent vacation. Little did anyone know that it was the last time those two were going be on the right side of the law.
Their life in muggle London was odd. It felt like their lives had been hit by an enormous wave and everything was supposed to be destroyed yet everything was in place. Hermione didn't sleep in the guest-room anymore, but shared her ex-bed with Ron. They would talk for hours each night about Harry, between kisses scattered on their faces. They talked about Sirius and Hagrid, about the war, about the Order, about everything they couldn't talk about with Harry. Through his death, Harry brought back those who they lost in their lives.
They started to walk through London again, going to museums and eating outside. They kissed now as well, and talked as much as possible about Harry. It wasn't unusual to see them cry and laugh and kiss all at the same time. Hermione's skin was brown again, and Ron's face was freckled, making the scar that traversed his face even more seen. Their life was normal, until the point they noticed with horror that they were almost penniless.
It had been a rather queer situation as they noticed they were without money. Hermione had been hungry and they had gone to Salisbury's supermarket to get her a snack. She was so hungry she had opened the chocolate bar she wanted to buy straight away and started to munch on it. People did that sometimes; they were going to pay the munched product anyways. It was then with stupor they had no change on them. Hermione had eaten up the rest of the chocolate bar nonetheless. Giggling and blushing madly, they had run away from the shop. It was only later, when they realized they were broke for good they started to panic.
They had spent all their money. Both Hermione and Ron had made the very serious and solemn promise to their parents that they would not need their financial support. The only thing the parents paid for was the rent of the flat. So it was with horror they noticed they were truly without money. Everything was almost gone; they had enough to eat for three days, no more.
If it had been post-War time, they could have lived on their money for two months or so. But because everything started to get so expensive, their money was worth nothing. The muggle money on Hermione's account wasn't nearly enough. She had changed it all to galleons before the inflation. Now their galleons were worth as good as nothing.
Hermione started to sell some items from their household, like the dishwasher and microwave oven. First Ron didn't notice it, but after she had sold TV-set and VCR, he understood what was going on. They carefully chose what they could afford to sell and lived very carefully with the money.
But they didn't have it as difficult as the rest of Ron's family. Finally Ron send his share of money to his family and they lived on nicked food or on money they received for doing odd-jobs like baby-sitting and lawn mowing grass. In their attempt to have money they even started to sell certain potions ingredients that were usuable as drugs in the muggle underground world.
Yet they weren't used to such things and as finally the Twins had to close their shop, they gave them the tip of selling drugs. Ron and Hermione had to finally admit it: they couldn't continue on like this.
They watched each other in the eyes and sighed deeply. Now was the end of their post-war peace Harry gave them. It was time to go back to work.
Yet their first day at work was interrupted around mid-day by various members of the Order picking up Hermione at the office she was working in for the Unspeakables. Ron was waiting for her at Gringrotts, eyes questioning her. They sat down next to each other, hands entangled, and eyes wide. A goblin came to them and tossed them a golden key.
Harry's vault. It was theirs. Hermione smiled to them, took the key whilst Ron braided some of her hair into a tiny, slim plait. He cut it off, and Hermione passed the key through it, making a necklace out of it. Hermione passed the key around Ron's neck and kissed his cheek.
No parole had been exchanged during this time. They walked out hand in hand after have signed a paper attesting they took over the responsibility of Harry's money. Hermione quietly had asked if they could go and Harry's- no wait, their new vault. They were stunned as they saw the fortune in front of their eyes.
Money was there in small mountains; their momentary money problems forgotten; they explored all they saw. Hermione and Ron ignored the glimmering coins and sat down in a corner, searching for something else than just anonymous money. It was Hermione who found it: a jewel bow no bigger than a CD-case. They opened it, and found necklaces and bracelets and rings thrown carelessly in the box. Most of them were plain, the polish melted off and dirty, yet you still could feel the warm feelings they had lived. They found his parents engagement rings, and on a silent accord, they passed a finger each around their left ring finger. They had Harry with them now.
"- You are a Know-It-All. Please, tell me, do you think he is ever going to disappear?"
"- We can go but Harry would never leave. Too many years are locked up in our memories. The times we will feel him drift apart form us, one of us will softly say: I remember his mind."
Ron had continued to cram through the box and fished out a tiny little golden star attached to an old, worn leather band. He clasped it around Hermione's neck. She was the one who deserved it; her head would have been ripped off if her arm couldn't have stopped the wire lasso from taking off her head.
Ron continued to root in the money aroudn them and found te diaries, the babybook and messages that had been carefully hidden in a tiny toybox. The notebooks were yellowed and smelled of paper and metal. They were his parents' diaries from school and Lilies memories of after their marriage and of her pregnancy. Hermione had been destroyed as she had found them; there was proof of the exsistence of Harry's parents, yet he had never been able to read them. It was unfair and wrong! Harry was the one supposed to find all this; not them.
But... Harry was no more. Harry was dead. What were they to do?
"-Do you think people would ever know him like we did?"
"- No. But it's good that way. He liked his privacy."
There was a deep moment of silence. They felt sadness and loss. Harry's phantom was just there, somewhere between them, wavering, demanding not to be forgotten. It would have been easier maybe if Harry had died. To see his cold, lifeless body would have made it real. But he disappeared. He could have as well disaparate or go in hiding.
"- We can't even bury him."
" Ron; let's bury him with his parents. Let's do the same thing as the Potters did; let's write down Harry as the person we knew. Not the Boy-Who-Lived; no, just our plain Harry. Let's write him down on paper and bury him with his parents. So they would know all what they missed out. I'm sure they would want to know."
"- You would write them. You can put people on paper."
Ron took the star tinkle and passed it around Hermione's neck and fastened with a steady knot. It was her responsibility to write Harry down; not Harry the hero. Harry their friend, the one yelling and snapping at them, the Quidditch fanatic candy eating lazy arse that never did any studying if Hermione didn't threaten him. Harry who had used more than once his invisibility cloak to gave a peek in the girl's bathroom (he was finally caught by Lavender Brown at the end of sixth year). Their Harry.
Hermione climbed her way to Ron's lap and installed herself between his long legs, her back against her chest. She played with the necklace. They smiled and closed their eyes, and they just felt Harry there. Harry lingered somewhere around them like the taste of a peppermint candy that had melted in your mouth. There, surrounded by gold, was the last time they cried Harry's disappearance.
Two and a half years later, when reporters asked them about their lives, about the times after Harry's death, they always smiled and told them it was the best time of their lives. Because they were young and they were in love.