Angel

Angel

Eowyn, lady of Rohan

It's been five months since you went away

Left without a word and nothing to say

When I was the one who gave you my heart and soul

But it wasn't good enough for you, no

So I asked God

"Hermione, you've gotten a letter," Harry sat down across from me the morning I got the letter, handing me a rolled-up parchment. I slowly took it from his hand, trying to ignore the pair of ice-blue eyes fixed on me from the seat next to Harry. "Anyway, I think the owl that delivered it got confused and came to our window last night. Don't worry, I didn't read it." Harry continued, spreading jam on some toast.

"I didn't think you had," I replied, unrolling it. My eyes scanned over Viktor Krum's messy handwriting, meanwhile my eyes stinging with hot tears I managed to blink back - at least, in front of Ron and Harry. I couldn't bear to let them see my cry - even though they had many times in the past - but this time the reason for it was embarrassing. Ron will sure be happy, I'm sure, I thought bitterly as I rolled the parchment back up, setting it down in the middle of the table.

"What happened?" Harry asked. Ron stayed silent - a very rare thing from him, I noticed. It made me wonder if he knew what happened...but surely not. How could he, if he hadn't read it? From the look on his face when Harry gave me the letter, he hadn't expected it.

"It's nothing," I said, pushing around the food on my plate with my fork. Don't cry...you can't cry in front of them...just wait 'til the end of the day, a voice kept reminding me in my head.

God send me an angel

From the heavens above

Send me an angel to heal my broken heart

From being in love

'Cause all I do is cry

God send me an angel

To wipe the tears from my eyes

Later, at sundown (the letter came at lunch) I was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, curled up against the cold stone wall, crying all tears I hadn't been able to cry all day. Each lone tear that fell down my cheek caused my heart to break even more. He shouldn't even matter this much to me. I should've known not to get my hopes up when he told me...he was four years older than me, after all. How could I have been so stupid? I buried my face in my crossed arms on the tops of my knees. I heard the door creak open very faintly, but couldn't care about who was coming in the bathroom now - I was too wrapped up in my sorrow.

"Hermione?" I heard Ron's deep baritone somewhere above me and raised my head to look up at him. Those same ice-blue eyes peered at me from under his fire-red bangs. I tried to swallow the lump of tears in my throat so I could talk.

"Harry's not here, is he?" My voice was all scratchy so I cleared my throat. Ron flopped down on the tile floor beside me, pushing back some of my hair that had stuck to my damp face back behind my ear. I don't know why, but that small, nice gesture made my heart skip a beat. Maybe it was because in the process of pushing the hair behind my ear the tips of his long fingers brushed the side of my face.

"No, I told him maybe I'd just better come to check on you. I hope you don't mind, but I read the letter." I shook my head, too miserable to care about anything anymore, except for the fact that Ron and I were talking without arguing, for once, and that maybe this would lead somewhere. Could I possibly be making a break through the sheet of ice that separated me from Ron? I could only wait to find out.

"Look, Hermione, he probably knows you're crying for him, but you shouldn't give him that satisfaction. He doesn't deserve all that." Now his arm was around my shoulders. I stared at the bottom of the sinks, just trying to avert my eyes from looking into his. I was sure if I did, I would fall into them and never come out.

"But who knows how long he's been doing it behind my back? I mean, he's all the way in Bulgaria and I'm here. What do I know? I can't believe I was so...so...gullible." I said, my heart finally shattering into a million tiny pieces (or so it felt). Ron enfolded me in his arms, another nice gesture that nearly made me cry even more. I wrapped my arms tight around him, determined to never let go, burying my face in his chest. Through all my weeping, I somehow started to notice that he smelled kind of nice, something a bit spicy, but not overpowering. I pulled back a little to look up at his face and he used the pad of his thumb to wipe tearstains off my cheeks.

"You okay?"

"I think so. Can you stay here with me a little longer?" I asked, almost afraid to hear his answer. He smiled faintly, though, and nodded. A few days later, I wrote a letter to Krum asking him not to do this, that breaking up - ruining our relationship - was a mistake and that it could all work out. He never replied.

That was December.

...:::*:::...

And I know it might sound crazy

But after all that I still love you

You wanna come back in my life

But now there is something I have to do

I have to tell the one that I once adored

That they can't have my love no more

'Cause my heart can't take no more lies

And my eyes are all out of cries

Dear Hermione,

Almost as soon as I read the words on the paper a late May evening - the night before graduation - I felt like crumbling it right back up, or burning it, or something to destroy it. Viktor had a lot of nerve, writing me after he hadn't in five months, the last letter from him being a breaking-up one. But my eyes were riveted to the paper and I had no choice but to read.

"What did he say?" Ron asked from my desk, where he was reading my valedictorian speech I was to give the next day.

"He wants to get back together. Who the hell does he think I am? I mean, I know I sent back a letter, but he never sent another one back! He thought I really spent all my time worrying about him?" I exploded, tossing the letter on the bed. Ron came over, sat next to me and put a hand on my back. I felt warmth shoot through my body at his touch.

"Hermione, calm down. Just ignore him."

"He'll just send more owls. I know it."

"So write him back and tell him what you told me."

"What was that?"

" 'Who the hell does he think I am?' I think he'll get the picture then." I started chewing on my lower lip. I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable from the proximity of Ron and me, but I couldn't very well move. It was if my bottom had been glued to the bed beside him. Just tell him...now is the time.

"Ron..." I started, "I...I really need to tell you something."

"What's that?"

"I...er...uh, thanks." Okay, now would be the time for a random curse to come flying through the window and killing me...anytime now.... I felt like crawling under the bed, jumping out of the window - anything to get away from Ron at that particular moment. Idiot, a voice mocked in my mind.

Now you had me on my knees

Begging God please to send you back to me

I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep

You made me feel like I could not breathe

Now all I wanted to do was feel your touch

And give you all my love

But you took my love for granted

Want my lovin' now

But you can't have it

God

"Thank you." The next day I stepped off the stage to applause from the parents of students graduating and the students graduating. I took my seat between Ron and Harry.

"You did great," Harry muttered out of the corner of my mouth.
"A lot better than that prick Malfoy. What the hell was his speech supposed to be?" Ron murmured. I stifled a laugh. After we received their diplomas and wizarding licenses, and I talked with my parents for a few minutes, I found Ron and Harry talking to Sirius Black.

"Ron," I said, tapping him on the shoulder, "could I have a word with you?" He turned around.

"Sure," he said. "I'll be back soon." He said to Sirius and Harry, who nodded.

"I hope you don't mind taking a walk too," I said, praying I would have enough courage to tell him what I had been planning to the night before.

"Of course I don't mind," he replied, smiling and lacing his fingers with mine. "Is it Hogsmeade, then? We might as well get a butterbeer too."

"Yeah," I said, feeling a bit sick. I knew it wouldn't go away until I confessed to him.

"So, what is it? You shouldn't be nervous - just tell me."

"How did you know -"

"Don't worry about it," he said, a mischievous smile lifting a corner of his mouth. "So...?"

"Well, you know last night, when I said I was going to tell you something?"

"Yeah, and you did. It was, if I recall right, 'I...er...uh, thanks.'" I felt my cheeks flush.

"Well, that wasn't it. I mean, it was part of it, but that wasn't it it."

"So what was 'it it'?"

"Iloveyou." He stopped and stepped in front of me, letting go of my hand and placing both of his on my hips. I linked my arms around his neck, just because I had nothing better to do, and I didn't want my arms hanging all awkwardly at my sides. Besides, it felt like the thing to do in this type of situation. He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Well...um...you could say something, you know..." I said, feeling no calmer as I awaited his response.

"What all is there to say? That I've been waiting six years for you to say that? That I couldn't say it myself because I was afraid you didn't really love me?"

"Yes, I guess you could say that." He smiled, leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. My heart felt as if it would burst from beating so fast. God truly did send me an angel, six years ago.

God send me an angel

From the heavens above

Send me an angel to heal my broken heart

From being in love

'Cause all I do is cry

God send me an angel

To wipe the tears from my eyes