Almost

Life had passed her by like a speeding train. She had been to Paris, New York, Tokyo, and Cairo. She had spent her youth fighting Voldemort alongside her friends, teachers, and the Order. She had watched the castle that she had called her school--her home--fall apart and crumble into nothing but debris. And now, after twenty-five years, she was back in her true home, one last time. The castle had been rebuilt and would be reopening in September, just like it used to. A banner hanging above the opened wooden doors read:

Welcome, Alumni, to the Reopening Ball for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!

She entered through the oak doors behind a couple in robes of a deep emerald green that reminded her faintly of someone she used to know... But she couldn't think of that now. No, not when she was so far out of this world. She was merely here to say hello to some of her old teachers and see her school once more; that was it.

The Great Hall was decorated with baubles of all the house colours: red and gold for Gryffindor, blue and bronze for Ravenclaw, yellow and black for Hufflepuff, and green and silver for Slytherin. The ceiling was enchanted the same way the old one had been, and there was not a cloud in the night sky.

She recognised a few people--not people that she was a friend of in her years at Hogwarts, but people that she had spoken to on occasion or had seen in passing. Blaise Zabini was standing to the side of the dance floor with Pansy Parkinson, who seemed to finally have grown out of her cow-like phase. There were only a few people actually on the dance floor; among them was Hannah Abbott, who was dancing with Colin Creevey.

She scanned the Hall and just when she spotted Professor McGonagall talking to Lupin, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and found herself face-to-face with...

'Ron!' she said, not believing her eyes. Although his hair was longer and most of his freckles had faded, there was no doubt that she was looking at her old best friend. She smiled in spite of herself in noticing the plain black dress robes that he wore--so unlike those he had worn to the Yule Ball.

'Hermione, it's great to see you,' Ron said and, without warning, hugged her. She hugged him back, though not as fully. She wouldn't let herself get attached; this wasn't where she belonged. When they pulled apart, he looked her up and down. 'What have you been doing all these years?'

'Oh, a little of this, a little of that,' Hermione said vaguely. She refused to let him back into her life. It was too late for that. 'What about you?' she asked politely.

'Writing,' Ron said. Hermione blinked at him, unable to get her head around the idea of Ron writing for a living. 'Remember Luna Lovegood? Well, her dad gave me a column in The Quibbler...' That made a bit more sense. Ron was writing for The Quibbler.

'When I got the newsletter and I didn't see you on there, I got a little worried,' Ron admitted. 'I thought something had happened.'

'Newsletter?' Hermione repeated. She had never received a newsletter of any sort--not that she had expected one.

'The Hogwarts alumni newsletter,' Ron said. 'It's supposed to keep us up to date on what everyone's been doing for the past twenty-five years.'

'I--I didn't get it,' Hermione said honestly.

'Oh,' Ron said. 'Well, tell me then, what have you been up to?'

'Actually, I'm writing as well,' Hermione said truthfully, though keeping as much information as she could manage to herself.

'Really? For whom?' Ron said, clearly amazed at what they had in common. Hermione doubted he was ready for her answer.

'The Nightly News,' Hermione said. When Ron didn't say anything, she added, 'It's a Muggle paper.'

Ron laughed. 'Through the Ministry, I assume,' he said. 'Trying to keep our world from leaking into the Muggle world?'

'No,' Hermione said, shaking her head. Ron's laughing ceased almost instantly. 'It's just a plain Muggle paper.'

'But, surely you're doing something on the side,' Ron said, almost praying that she was. 'Y'know, something with our world.'

'Nope,' she said, quite satisfied with the way she lived. 'Just that one job.'

Ron eyed her curiously, not quite sure what to make of her. 'Well, that's great,' he said, though Hermione could tell it wasn't quite as sincere as he could possibly make it.

'So, where's Ginny?' Hermione said, trying to lighten the stiff conversation.

'Oh, she's at home with the twins,' Ron said, grinning proudly, though she couldn't tell why.

'She's living with your brothers then?' Hermione assumed. That didn't seem like Ginny, but a lot could've changed over twenty-five years.

Ron didn't seem to comprehend what she was saying for a few moments, but then realisation seemed to dawn on him and he laughed. 'No, no, sorry, I forgot you didn't know... They're Ginny's twins. Wendy and David.'

Hermione put her hand absently over her mouth, hiding her astonished smile. Little Ginny was a mother of two...unbelievable. 'But who--?' Hermione wasn't sure how to put it without it sounding bad, so she decided to be straightforward. 'Whom did she marry?'

Ron chuckled to himself. 'You'll love this: Neville.'

'Neville, as in Neville Longbottom?' Hermione said, unable to see how Ginny could go from loving Harry to Neville. Ron nodded. For some reason, she couldn't quite imagine Ginny and Neville married with children.

'The one and only,' Ron confirmed. 'They're great together. Honestly, I couldn't imagine anyone better for her.' Hermione raised her eyebrow; he couldn't be saying that. 'Well, yes, I could,' Ron added.

Hermione had no interest in talking about Harry, so she changed the topic. 'What about you?' she asked. 'Are you married?'

Ron shook his head. 'Nope, just me and Pig still.' Hermione was surprised. She would've thought that by now... 'What about you, Hermione? Any special someone?' He was teasing her, but Hermione took his question very seriously.

'Yes, actually,' she answered truthfully. Ron's eyes widened and his ears reddened in horror.

'What? Who?' he gawped.

'His name's Keith,' Hermione told him, positively beaming. She held out her left hand, presenting a diamond engagement ring. 'We're to be married in September.'

'A Muggle?' Hermione nodded. Ron was forcing a smile now. 'That's--that's great.' His words were dry and meaningless, and that's how Hermione wished them to be. Ron wasn't part of her life anymore.

Hermione was having trouble coming up with anything else to say. Luckily she didn't have to though because she spotted her chance to slip away from Ron. 'I think I see Professor McGonagall over there. Um, I'll talk to you later, OK?'

'Oh, yeah,' Ron said blandly. 'Later.'

Hermione squeezed past groups of old friends chatting to where Professor McGonagall was standing with some of Hermione's other old teachers, like Professor Vector, Hagrid, and Lupin.

'Miss Granger!' Professor McGonagall cried. 'We didn't think you'd show. When we didn't receive an answer from you, we thought perhaps you had cut off all ties to the Wizarding World.'

'It went to my parents' house,' Hermione explained. 'I didn't find out about it until last night. I had enough time to pick up robes from Madam Malkin's only this morning.'

'So, we're right in assuming that you aren't--well--I mean to say...' Professor McGonagall was having trouble spitting out the words, but Hermione knew exactly what she was trying to say.

'No, I'm not using magic anymore,' she said.

'Oh, well, of course,' McGonagall said sympathetically. 'We can all understand that...seeing your best friend... well, yes. It's understandable, of course.'

'Right,' Hermione said. She was finding a conversation with her professor about her anti-magic morals more uncomfortable than talking to Ron about her fiancé. 'Well, I just wanted to stop by and say hello. I think I'm going to go outside and get some air.'

The three of them nodded, and Hermione quickly hurried out onto the veranda. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage. She hadn't expected anyone's words to affect her so harshly. She leaned forward on the balcony railing, looking down at the green grass below her. A sickening feeling filled her stomach, and Hermione almost wished she would vomit to get rid of the discomfort. Tears stung at her eyes remembering everything that had happened so many years ago.

'Hermione.'

Hermione turned around quickly, causing her to feel even more nauseous. Why was it that Ron kept popping up out of nowhere?

'Are you all right?' he asked, seeing the pain spread across her face.

'I'm fine,' Hermione said, holding onto the railing for support.

'No, you're not,' Ron said, rushing to her side and putting an arm around her before she collapsed. He assisted her in walking to a nearby bench. He quietly waited as she got herself under control before asking, 'Will you tell me what's wrong?'

Hermione gulped back the terribly lump in her throat. 'I shouldn't have come here,' she whispered.

'Don't worry about that,' Ron said. 'Everyone feels a little dizzy once in a while.'

Hermione shook her head. 'You still don't get it, do you?' she said. 'I can't believe that after twenty-five years you still haven't figured out why I left the Wizarding World for good.'

Ron stared at her. She was right; he had no clue what would possess her to leave such a literally magical world.

'It's my fault,' she muttered.

'What's your fault?' Ron asked quietly.

Hermione took a deep breath. It was finally time to tell Ron the truth. She had kept it a secret, and now it was time to tell him the truth. 'It's my fault that Harry...' She couldn't even say it; saying it would be admitting that he was dead.

'That Harry what?' Ron said firmly.

'That he's dead!' Hermione snapped. It was out in the open at last. But for some reason, she didn't feel any better.

Ron sighed. 'Hermione, no one blames you. Don't blame yourself.'

Hermione shook her head again. 'Let me explain,' she said. Ron nodded, and she went on, 'During the Final Battle, when we all got separated, I was there with Harry and Voldemort.'

'Yeah, I know,' Ron said, urging her on. 'We all know that.'

'Yes, but what you don't know is...what no one knows...' Hermione was having trouble admitting this. It was the secret that she had said she would take to her grave. 'Well, I told everyone that the curse that killed Voldemort killed Harry as well, but that's not it...'

Hermione looked on. Harry and Voldemort stood still as stone facing each other, their wands held in their hands at the ready. The trees of the Dark Forest cast out the light of the full moon. There wasn't another soul around for at least a mile. They were all back on the grounds with the Death Eaters. There was nowhere to run. Surely she would be heard if she tried to move. She merely crouched down lower behind the rock that kept her out of Voldemort's sight.

'Face it, Potter, you can't beat me,' Voldemort rasped, almost snakelike. 'You haven't found the last Horcrux.'

Harry didn't say anything, nor did he move, but he had a faint smirk on his face. Hermione couldn't tell why. He was face-to-face with his worst enemy and had no chance of defeating him--not without the final Horcrux.

'Or have you?' Voldemort said curiously.

Hermione stared at Harry, who nodded. Hermione grinned; he was bluffing. Harry Potter was lying to Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort believed it. Had Harry mastered Occlumency without her realising it?

Suddenly, Harry's wand slashed violently at the air. 'Avada Kedavra!' he shouted as loud as possible.

Hermione could see the rage contorted in his face. A jet of green light flew at Voldemort. Hermione couldn't watch, but she heard the body and felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She hurried out from behind the rock and rushed to Harry's side.

Harry was staring at the pile of robes before him. There was an odd look on his face, and Hermione couldn't quite read it. She hugged him, and he limply wrapped his arms around her in return.

'What's wrong?' she asked. 'You should be happy.'

Harry pulled away and shook his head. 'There's one Horcrux left,' he said.

'Yeah, but there's plenty of time to find it and destroy it,' Hermione said optimistically. 'Isn't there?'

Harry slowly shook his head. He turned away and walked over to the pile of robes, beneath which lay Voldemort's body. He stood there staring at them for several long moments before looking up at her, the pain apparent in his eyes. 'Hermione, the final Horcrux is...me.'

Hermione sighed, tears blurring her vision. Ron stared at her, awaiting the end of her story. 'He asked me to kill him,' she finished. 'And I did.' She couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They streamed down her face, and Hermione bowed her head in shame.

'That's why you left the Wizarding World? The world you love so much?' Ron said incredulously. 'That's why you left me?'

'No,' Hermione said, her head snapping up. 'I left because I couldn't live with the part of me that killed my best friend. I couldn't live with the magical part of me. I left you because you were the only thing I loved about that part of myself.'

'That doesn't make any sense,' Ron said, shaking his head at her.

'Neither does the fact that I killed him!' Hermione shouted. 'I just want that part of me to not hurt anymore. And I thought if I severed ties with this world--your world--then I'd feel better.'

'And do you?' Ron asked, staring into her eyes.

Hermione stared back. The part of her that she had let go of wanted him back. 'When I'm in my new life? With my new job, new friends, and new fiancé? Yes.'

'What about when you're sitting here with me, knowing exactly what you threw away?' Ron asked. 'Knowing that you could've kept the old you?'

Hermione bit her lower lip. She wouldn't say it. She would let him know that she wanted her old life back. 'I have to go,' she said, getting to her feet. She wiped the tears from her face as she pulled her robes tight around her.

Ron nodded. Hermione was surprised he didn't press her for an answer. He had changed a lot in the past twenty-five years. Hermione supposed that came with getting older--change.

'It's been great seeing you again, Hermione,' Ron said, getting to his feet and holding out his hand for her to shake.

Hermione took it and squeezed it businesslike. 'Very nice to see you as well, Ron.'

And Hermione turned away from Ron. She turned away from Ron, her old friends, her old life, her old school, and her old memories. She went back to her fiancé, Keith, and lived a typical Muggle life with typical Muggle friends, and a typical Muggle job. And she was surprised to find that for the most part, she was happy, and she didn't regret what she gave up. But whenever she heard about something out-of-the-ordinary on the news--a strange amount of owls, an unexplainable event, or an odd number of 'foreigners' around the time of the Quidditch World Cup--she remembered Ron and Ginny and Harry, and all the fun they used to have. She sometimes wondered what would have happened if she had given the Wizarding World another chance. But, really, she kept telling herself, she was happy...almost.