The Last Time

Chapter 32

Hermione couldn't sleep that night for thinking.

If you had known that those people were the parents of someone you knew, would you still have got Harry out of there? Even knowing that Voldemort would kill them, leaving an innocent girl an orphan?

She wrestled with that question for quite a while.

Would you have done it?

Eventually she came to the conclusion that yes, she would have. To do otherwise would have been naïve and foolish; Voldemort would likely have killed the Murphys anyway, and her and Harry as well. That conclusion left her with a slightly bitter feeling.

She tossed and turned until it was obvious that sleep was just not going to happen. Finally she got out of bed, got dressed, and went downstairs to the kitchens, thinking that maybe a bit of a snack would help her sleep.

She tickled the pear in the portrait of fruit, and it swung open to reveal the bright and gleaming interior of the Hogwarts kitchens. Luckily there were no house-elves about, and she began to poke around in the cabinets to see what interested her.

"Miss Hermione! What you is doing in the kitchens?"

"Hi, Dobby," she answered, grinning at the small elf. "I'm just looking for a bite to eat. Don't you ever sleep?"

Dobby adjusted the purple and green checked tie at his neck, which clashed horribly with this bright orange trousers. "Oh, we house-elves is not needing sleeping much, Miss. Especially when there is work that needs being done, and Dobby is getting paid for it."

"Work?" She looked at her watch. "It's three in the morning, Dobby. You don't have work to do this time of night!"

Dobby nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes I does, Miss. You is needing a snack. You is to be sitting down while Dobby gets it." Dobby grabbed the hem of her robes and pulled her over to one of the four long tables that stretched the length of the room, directly under the House tables in the Great Hall above.

"Dobby, really, I can - "

He shook his head, his great bulbous eyes solemn. "Not meaning no disrespect, Miss, but you is needing to be quiet and sit down. You is going to be leaving Hogwarts soon and Dobby is sad about that. Dobby knows you is not liking us house-elves to be working, and Dobby is glad you has been trying to help us. Dobby is wanting to be doing this for Miss Hermione, to be saying thank you before you is leaving."

Hermione gave up her protests, and a few minutes later Dobby had a huge plate of fruit and biscuits on the table in front of her, along with a silver pot of tea and a cup. "Thank you, Dobby. This looks wonderful."

Dobby's ears perked up with pride. "Thank you, Miss. Dobby is happy to be doing something. Is Miss needing anything else? Because if you is, you is to be letting me know."

"I think I'm okay for now, Dobby, thanks," Hermione said.

"And where is Harry Potter and his Wheezy?" Dobby asked, looking around. "They is not coming down with you?"

Hermione was in mid-bite of a ginger-nut biscuit, and had to finish before answering. "No, Dobby. Ron's brother is getting married tomorrow, and so he's off with his family. I'm not quite sure where Harry is. Probably sleeping." Actually, he's probably sitting up in his room, mentally beating himself up for things he can't control, but she didn't see the need to tell Dobby that.

"Oh." Dobby looked disappointed that Harry would not be joining her. "If Miss Hermione is not needing anything else, Dobby is going now." He scampered off to the back of the kitchens, leaving Hermione alone at the table.

After a cup of tea and a little more to eat, Hermione started to feel better, but she still wasn't ready to go upstairs and go to sleep.

You is going to be leaving Hogwarts soon, Dobby had said, and the thought made her feel empty inside. Hogwarts had been so much more than a school to her; it had been a whole new world, a world where she finally felt she fit in. And now it was time to leave.

A second later the fruit portrait opened, and the air in front of the doorway shimmered and split as Harry appeared from under his Invisibility Cloak, startling Hermione so much that she spilled tea all down her front.

"Hi," he said, folding the cloak into a lopsided bundle.

"You scared me!" She dabbed at the front of her robes with a napkin, but they were pretty much soaked.

"Sorry."

"Were you following me or something?"

"No...I wanted to talk to you, and you weren't in your room, so I used the map to find you." He sat down on the bench beside her, with his back to the table, placing the Invisibility Cloak beside him.

He clearly didn't know where to start, so Hermione said, "When were you going to tell me about Claire, Harry?"

Harry's eyes went wide. "How did you know...?"

"I came looking for you tonight, to talk to you. I thought you might be out at the pitch, so I headed out there, and heard her crying and you talking to her in the rose garden. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but...."

"So I suppose you know those were her parents," he said.

"Yes." She turned to face him, tucking her feet underneath her. "Is she okay?"

Harry stared at his shoes. "I think so. For now, anyway."

"Harry, you can't blame yourself. Don't. Claire doesn't."

"Yeah, I know. I would if I were her, though."

"But you're not, Harry. And she doesn't blame you because she knows it isn't your fault. It isn't my fault. It's his fault - nobody else's."

He didn't answer.

"I don't mean to push," she said finally, "but I worry about you, Harry. I really do. You've got so much to deal with, and you won't let anyone in."

He sighed heavily, and traced a scratch on the wooden bench absentmindedly with a finger. "I'm sorry. About...you know...the stuff I said to you a few weeks ago. About nagging me. I didn't mean it."

"I said some things I didn't mean too, you know."

"We've said a lot of those."

"I didn't want to," Hermione said quietly. "I just wanted to help you, and help Ron, and neither of you were letting me. You keep shutting me out, like...like our friendship doesn't mean anything to you."

He nodded. "I don't like the way things are right now. With you and me, and with Ron. I can't explain it, but it's like...." Hermione could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he searched for the right words. "I tried to push you away. Thinking that if I did, you'd be safe. And I thought I was doing the right thing, see. I thought I'd be okay going it alone. I'd been alone for ten years before I knew you, so.... But it was wrong, and it didn't do any good except make me see one thing."

Harry finally brought his gaze to meet hers. "I'm not me without you."

"Oh..." was all she could say. Her nerves were strung so tightly she felt she might snap at the slightest touch, because those last five words had struck something deep within her that she hadn't been able to put her finger on before.

I'm not me without you.

The nerve it must have taken him to swallow his pride and come down here to tell her that, to admit he was wrong, to admit that he needed her, tugged painfully at her heart. Harry Potter, who would never admit to needing anyone's help, was telling her that he wasn't himself without her.

"Hermione?"

"Oh," she said again, not being able to think of anything else coherent to say. And then she found she didn't need to say anything at all, because Harry's mouth was on hers and their hands were tangled in each other's hair, and all the I'm sorrys and I didn't mean its and I need yous that they were both thinking were understood without a single word. There was a different feel to these kisses than before; deeper, stronger, and needier, as if Harry were reinforcing his words with his actions, as if she were trying to tell him she understood.

Harry pulled her over to him and she sat on his lap, putting one knee on either side of him, feeling that she couldn't possibly get any closer and needing to be closer at the same time. She slipped his glasses off and laid them on the table; she could feel his breath on her skin through the tea-soaked front of her robes and how his heart was pounding madly under her fingers, and for the first time she felt like this was something much bigger, much more serious than she'd ever considered.

Very serious.

And she wasn't sure if she could handle another rejection.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" His hands slipped inside her robes and under her shirt, tracing large, warm circles on her back.

His touch made her feel dizzy and delirious, making it very difficult for her to concentrate on what she wanted to say, especially as they left her back and went elsewhere. "If you try to push me away again, I don't know if...."

"I won't." He said this so softly Hermione felt the words against her lips, rather than heard them with her ears.

"If you do, I don't think I can...do this again."

"I won't," he repeated, settling her more firmly onto his lap and looking her in the eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by the sound of shattering china and a very high pitched squeak.

"Harry Potter, sir!" squeaked Dobby, who had just dropped a teacup and saucer on the flagstone floor. His huge round eyes looked ready to fall out of his head, and his little mouth hung wide open. "What you is doing to Miss Hermione? You is not.... Miss is not....Dobby is not wanting to see this, no he is not. Dobby is seeing nothing, nothing at all." He covered his face with his hands and rocked back and forth, saying, "Dobby is not seeing nothing," over and over through his fingers.

Hermione dissolved into helpless, silent laughter against Harry's shoulder at the sound of Dobby's fit. Harry, however, apparently did not find it remotely amusing. "Dobby," he said through gritted teeth, glaring at the house-elf, who had now flung himself to the floor and was banging his head against the stones.

"We should go, anyway," she whispered in Harry's ear. "It's late." She slid off his lap and straightened her robes.

Harry let out a very deep breath and stood up, putting his glasses back on and picking up the Invisibility Cloak.

"Thanks for the snack, Dobby, it was just the thing," said Hermione, patting the little elf on the head.

"You is welcome, Miss," said Dobby. His face was pressed against the floor, but the visible part of his head had gone a frightening shade of mottled purple with embarrassment.

"Yeah, thanks, Dobby," said Harry.

*****

"You look very pretty, dear."

Hermione frowned at the mirror, not trusting it, as she'd overheard Lavender charming it into "flattery only" mode during fifth year, and "very pretty" was not a word she normally associated with herself. She had taken some trouble with her appearance this afternoon, though, as she'd been looking forward to attending Fred and Angelina's wedding ever since their engagement - the very first wizarding wedding she had been invited to. After the tension of the last few weeks, she was thankful for any excuse to have a bit of fun.

Her periwinkle dress robes from the Yule Ball were now a bit too short and uncomfortably snug across the chest and hip, so she had reluctantly gone to Gladrags in Hogsmeade with Ginny the week before to pick out new ones. It had been surprisingly fun, standing in the dressing room and trying on the avalanche of robes that Ginny tossed to her over the door while the salesclerk ohhed and ahhed in a most rhapsodic way - fuelled by the anticipation of a fat commission, no doubt. Two hours later she had walked out of the store with a set of dress robes that were a bit more daring than she had in mind, but she just couldn't resist.

Now she was having second thoughts about wearing it. What if it wasn't quite...appropriate...for a wedding? Surely Ginny would have told her, she thought, stabbing a final pin into the knot of hair on top of her head. In any case, it was too late now. She was supposed to meet Harry downstairs any minute. The deep cranberry-coloured material swished luxuriantly around her ankles as she searched the room for her shoes.

"Do you have any jewellery, Hermione?" asked Parvati, who was folding her school robes and packing them away in her trunk. "You need...something. Earrings? Necklace? Anything?"

Lavender frowned, studying Hermione's robes thoughtfully. "No, no necklace, not with that kind of neckline. Just earrings. Hm....didn't Ron give you some for your birthday? Little gold ones?"

Hermione fished them out of her jewellery box and put them on. The little garnet owl-eyes sparkled as she tilted her head in front of the mirror, and she remembered the night Ron had given them to her - the horribly out of tune but incredibly sweet birthday card, the little dot labelled Ron Weasley pacing the Charms classroom on the Marauder's Map, and the awkward earnestness in his admitting his feelings for her. It seemed like so long ago....

Thanking Lavender and Parvati for their help, she reached for her cloak.

"Don't put that on," said Lavender at once.

"But - " Hermione protested.

"The back of those robes - what back there is - is the best part," said Lavender, with a knowing smirk. "Trust me."

"Don't even take a cloak," said Parvati. She dug in her trunk and pulled out a small black evening bag. "Just put your wand in here and you're all set. You don't want to cover that up, believe me."

Hermione had the desperate urge to rip off the dress robes and wear old school robes instead to avoid showing an inch more skin than necessary.

Gathering the front of her robes slightly so she wouldn't trip on the hem, she went downstairs to the common room.

Dean and Seamus erupted into good-natured wolf-whistles at her appearance, and Neville grinned widely. Lavender, who had followed Hermione downstairs, shrieked in mock-jealousy and planted herself on Seamus' lap, smiling at Hermione and mouthing "See, I told you so."

Hermione barely noticed the commotion.

Harry was standing at the foot of the stairs, wearing dress robes of green so dark they were almost black, with his cloak folded over his arm. He'd apparently tried to wrestle his hair into submission, but it hadn't worked, and the combination of messy hair and dress robes was uniquely Harry.

"Er...hullo," he said awkwardly, still staring at her and obviously trying not to.

"Hi." Her mouth felt very dry, and what should have been a casual greeting came out as a very girly-sounding squeak.

"I reckon we should go, now."

"Yeah."

He frowned. "Don't you want your cloak?"

"No, it's not cold out, is it?" she said, feeling self-conscious.

"No, but...er...never mind," he said hastily, pushing open the portrait for her.

They walked downstairs in silence. Harry cleared his throat a few times as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Hermione watched him out of the corner of her eye, thinking about the night before, and wondering just what would have happened next if Dobby hadn't walked in; and what she imagined made her shiver.

Harry unfolded his cloak and laid it over her shoulders. "You cold?"

"No," she said, and shivered again.

*****

The Johnsons had supplied a Portkey with the wedding invitation for those guests who were not of Apparating age, similar to the ones Hermione and Harry had used to visit Ron at the hospital. It took them to a side garden at the Johnsons' house, where they quickly moved out of the way in case someone else was arriving soon and headed into the house.

While far from being a mansion, the Johnsons' house was large and airy, and a small crowd was milling about through the parlour and through the French doors out into the back garden. Hermione and Harry looked around for a sign of any of the Weasleys, but apparently they were all making last-minute wedding party preparations. They made their way outside, where rows of chairs had been set up before a small gazebo where Hermione assumed the actual ceremony would take place, next to which a string quartet had just begun to play. It took Hermione and Harry a few minutes to actually get outside, as quite a few people wanted to stop and talk to him; some he knew, but most of them he didn't.

"I've never been to a wizarding wedding before," said Hermione, as they found seats.

"I've never been to any wedding before," Harry replied.

Hermione was glad they'd arrived when they did, as the seats were filling rapidly. She recognized several former students in the crowd; Lee Jordan, Oliver Wood, Roger Davies, Penelope Clearwater, and Cho Chang stood out in particular. A handful of their professors were there as well, including Professor McGonagall, Professor Sinistra, Professor Sprout, Madam Hooch, and of course, Hagrid. He stood near the back of the rows of chairs as he was far too large for them, and gave Harry and Hermione a cheery wave. Mad-Eye Moody lurked on the outskirts of the gathering, his magical eye rolling around and surveying the assembled guests.

Once all the guests had been seated, Hermione expected that the parents of the groom and bride would be seated next, and was surprised to see Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, seated in a place of honour on the front row.

"Fudge is here?" whispered Hermione.

"Well, Mr. Weasley does work in the Ministry of Magic," said Harry. "And Fred and George's shop is fast becoming a prominent wizarding business, even if it is a joke shop. Plus Angelina's sort of famous in Quidditch circles now, so...." He scowled. "I reckon he's trying to rub shoulders with as many people as he can, you know, to keep his popularity up."

Further discussion of Fudge was cut off as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were seated. Hermione had never seen either of them in dress robes before and thought they looked wonderful, especially Mrs. Weasley, who was smiling nervously. Her hair was twisted up in an elegant looking style with a pale yellow flower on one side, and she was clutching a very large white handkerchief.

"I don't think she ever thought Fred would be the first one to settle down," whispered Harry in her ear, as Angelina's mother was seated opposite the Weasleys. "Probably thought it would be Bill or Percy."

Hermione had to bite back a laugh at the thought of Percy married.

Professor Dumbledore, as the officiating wizard, entered from the side of the crowd and stood at the top of the gazebo steps, looking very dignified in robes of deep purple, adorned with gold trim. Fred stood at the bottom of the steps, with George just behind him. Usually it was quite difficult to tell which twin was which, but this time there was no mistaking Fred, as he looked like he was about to be sick with nervousness. George looked every bit the supportive best man; calm, cheerful, and ready to catch the groom if he tried to bolt.

Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Ron came down the aisle next; and as they lined up beside Fred and George, Hermione had to admit that the sight of all six Weasley boys in dark blue dress robes was something to behold. Then the bridesmaids; Ginny, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina's two sisters, who Hermione didn't know, all in dress robes of icy blue; and after a moment's pause, Angelina herself, escorted by her father. Her white robes were elegant, and yet so simple they made everyone else look absurdly overdressed. The look on Fred's face when Angelina met him at the base of the gazebo steps made Hermione's heart catch in her throat.

It was a beautiful ceremony, very similar to the Muggle weddings Hermione had attended, with just a few differences. The one Hermione found the most fascinating had to do with the wedding rings. Dumbledore held the rings in the palm of his hand, and one by one, each member of the wedding party came forward to put a unique charm on them. They went in order of age, from youngest to oldest, so Ginny's charm for Faithfulness was followed by Ron's charm for Laughter and Katie's charm for Health, all the way up to Charlie's for Patience and Bill's for Perseverance. Hermione suspected the charms were more symbolic than anything, but it was quite touching, especially when the parents of the bride and groom came forward to add their charms and blessings as well.

After the ceremony, the wedding party retreated inside the house while several people began to set up for the casual reception that would be held right there in the back garden.

Finally the wedding party began to re-emerge from the house, a few at a time. Ginny was first to appear; she spotted Harry and Hermione immediately and made a beeline for them.

"Hi," she said, holding her bouquet in one hand and slipping off her shoes with the other. "My feet are killing me. I think my toes fell asleep from standing in one place for so long." She curled her toes in the grass with a sigh of relief.

Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George joined them a minute later. "Hello, Hermione, Harry," said Percy, very formally. "How good of you to come."

George made a face behind Percy's back, and Hermione thought it was odd to see George making fun of Percy without Fred beside him to join in. Bill and Charlie weren't nearly as stuffy as Percy; they each had a hug for Hermione and a handshake for Harry.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked, looking for any sign of him. "He isn't with you?"

"He's around here somewhere," said Bill. "I think."

Hermione started to reply but was cut off by the applause coming from the rest of the guests; Fred and Angelina had appeared in the open French doors of the house and were coming into the garden. Surely Ron should have been out here by now with the rest of the wedding party, Hermione thought, standing on her tiptoes looking for any sign of him.

Harry stepped closer to her; she felt his hand at the small of her back. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to see what she was looking at.

"Ron. I don't see him anywhere," she said, her concern growing steadily by the minute. "I'm going to see if he's in the house - you stay out here in case he comes out." She didn't wait for Harry to agree, but headed immediately for the house.

The house was empty and quiet; the chatter and noise from the garden was suddenly muted as she closed the door behind her. "Ron?" she called. "Ron? Are you in here?"

A pause, and then, "Yeah."

Hermione followed his voice to the front parlour where he was sitting by the window, looking out. He didn't turn around when she came in the room.

"Ron? You okay?"

He shrugged. "I reckon."

"Come on out to the party."

"I will, in a minute," he said, nodding.

"Everyone's looking for you." As soon as she said it, she knew that was the problem - people looking. "Ron, come on, please? For Fred. It's a big day for him."

Ron turned from the window, and there was a deep frown line between his brows. "I know that, Hermione. I know! Just...never mind."

"What?"

He sighed. "I've just got this really strange feeling. I can't put my finger on it, I don't know what it is, but it's just a feeling."

The sound of the musicians starting up for dancing came very faintly through the house. "It's Fred and Angelina's first dance, Ron. Come on, or you're going to miss it. Look, if you don't want to go outside, we'll just watch from the doorway. How's that?"

He nodded. "Okay. But - don't you want to go dance?"

"Yes, but - not if you're sitting in here all by yourself, I don't." She nodded in the direction of the doors to the back garden. "Come on. We'll watch from there." She walked out of the room without looking to see if he was behind her or not.

The first thing she noticed when she opened the back door was that no one was moving. Fred and Angelina were motionless in the middle of the gathered crowd, who stood frozen in place as if stunned. The only people who moved or made a sound were the musicians up by the gazebo, who continued to play the most beautiful music....

The music...it was filling her head like smoke in a crowded pub, filling up every inch of available space and pushing out all her thoughts. She tried to move, to speak, to do something, but she couldn't.

The last coherent thought she had was Ron's concerned face and startled gasp before her mind went completely and blissfully blank.