SoulBands

SoulBands, Epilogue

by Caducee

There was still that feeling whenever they touched each other's scars by inadvertence. Because, yes, they had been forever scarred that day. Hermione usually tried to suppress it by simply trying to ignore it at once, and she knew they both did.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix had arrived minutes later to fend off the angry Death Eaters, and had neutralised the majority of them... Some of them still lived free lives... The Order's deed was thus not complete. Ron had sworn to serve their purpose until the last one of them was captured. Hermione had decided to opt for security; she kept the reports of all the Order's spies in order and communicated with them during their missions. Although danger was involved, there was just no way she was going to let the Dark Lord's minions return to power.

Harry... Harry had spent nearly six months at St-Mungo's. His new scar was an exact replica of the one from his very first encounter with Voldemort. Six months where Ron and Hermione had held their breaths in tense anticipation. Six months in a hard coma, with various magical devices monitoring his heart beat, his healing wounds, and his brain functions.

Both Ron and Hermione had come out of it with one single small scar on the respective palms that had held Harry's ankles.

When finally Harry had been granted his leave, Ron and Hermione had both welcomed him to their flat; however Harry had begun to draw away after a few days, always moping about the apartment, and when finally Hermione had found him a job serving at a completely muggle café - oh, they'd received many an owl offering him a more than decent wizarding job: positions and ranks left and right, offered to him like biscuits and tea. But he'd always refused. Hermione had simply deduced he didn't want to deal with the wizarding world just yet. And with reason, she thought solemnly to herself. His face and his famous lighting bolt scar had made the wizarding front pages world wide upon the world's discovery of the shocking yet fantastic news: "Boy-Who-Lived Defeats Dark Lord For A Final Time:

Last night, in the wee hours of the morning, Harry Potter, young hero extraordinaire, vanquished You-Know-Who by a pure show of fearlessness and courage. It was days ago that the young man with a scar that has marked him since the day that he survived the curse that destroyed his family, was held hostage by the Dark Lord. It is still unclear as to why Lord V decided to keep him alive in an abandoned cottage house built by a forest. Potter has decided to keep the details to himself, but was adamant to tell the press as early as the day he and his old schoolmates, Mr Weasley and Mrs Granger, left St-Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries that the spell You-Know-Who was about to hit Mr Potter with backfired and hit You-Know-Who instead. Again, details are sparse and Potter has been very secretive about the ordeal. But speculation has arisen and... (story continued on page 2)"

As for Hermione and Ron... their names had been uttered and printed once or twice, but as long as they stood by Harry, theirs would always stand behind Harry's. Frankly, though, they didn't care much. They were all still alive and glad for this fortunate miracle.

Hermione stared up at the moonlight streaming in over her head. The ceiling was eerily illuminated, distorting the shadows and making them appear much less frightening than they had ever been.

There was so much she still wondered, or wanted to find out soon. Swallowing deeply, she allowed her heart rate to slow down and to feel the comfort of heat creep inside her tingling and sated body. Her fringe was matted to her forehead; she lazily swiped it off her face and turned to look sideways at the face that looked back at her.

He was staring with half-lidded eyes, the glow from the moon cast onto his face and ever-present. "Where do we go from here?" he asked the very same question he had asked weeks ago. And yet, now, she was prepared, with an answer tipping right off her tongue.

Hermione smiled very lightly before slowly crawling into his arms brazenly. She brought his scarred palm to her lips, knowing the reaction this would engender like the back of her own hand. "I don't care. As long as I can have this moment to remember."

It seemed as though the golden and pink strings glowed on Ron's hand when she pressed her lips to his starry scar, so similar to her own.