Close to Grace

"Where Romeo never dies, and Juliet - she never cries
when you think its all over, I'll look with a smile
cuz Romeo never dies, Romeo never dies"

Where Romeo Never Dies Written By Peter Vale and Billie Myers

Ron Weasly felt the air nip at the edges of his cloak. He knew this day would come, the day of reckoning when he would have to atone for his sins. He had once been the best friend to two of the most wonderful people in the world. Both of whom he called his best friend, until he betrayed them both. It wasn't like his intentions were bad, in fact it was all obvious what was happening, and really it was just history repeating itself. At least that was what Sirius had told him...

"Listen, you remember that night in the Shrieking Shack don't you Ron? I felt guilty because I did what I had to do."

"Of course, but-"Ron felt more uncomfortable with every moment. Sirius had never looked as-, well words couldn't describe how he looked.

"Ron, it's simple really, the Potters are the heirs to the Magiviertal. They have powers that we can only dream to receive. If and when, Harry chooses to sacrifice himself, he will be transported to Magiviertal, no questions asked."

"But what about Hermione and Harry, shouldn't they know?"

"That's the problem, if Harry knows the sacrifice is useless to save the world. Only through complete ignorance can the dreieck power be used to kill the Dark Lord. James is there because he died in a duel with Voldemort; and Lily is there because she, though not a Potter, sacrificed herself to protect her son and be with her husband. There was no guarantee she would be allowed in Magiviertal, but I have heard tale she is there."

"Sirius, this sounds like one big myth! You are asking me to stay out of the battle with my best friend, break his heart, and hope that he saves the world because of an action prophecy?"

"Ron, all I am asking you to do is believe. If you could have saved Ginny, would you have?"

Ron felt as if a thousand bludgers had hit him in the kidneys. The grief inflicted upon his family after Ginny had been murdered was horrible. The boys had gone out for a game of Quidditch and his mum and dad were away in London. Really, it was no one's fault, but Ron knew he shouldn't have left her alone. She was murdered by the Dark Lord and his Mark flew over the roof of the Burrow for what seemed like centuries. Ron closed his eyes to the tears threatening to come.

"Of course I would. But this is different."

"How? Listen, I am asking you to think about it, nothing more, and nothing less."

Ron had done what Sirius had asked, and the more he thought about it, the more he could justify it. After all, Harry's fate was guaranteed, where as Ginny's was not. Ron would never know what became of his little sister. And as much as he loved Harry and Hermione, he could never understand their relationship. Either they were lying about how close they truly were, or they truly were the most ignorant people in the world. And then the moment came, the one that cemented Ron's decision. Late one evening, after serving a detention with Snape, he found Harry kissing Hermione in the corner of the common room. They didn't even notice that Ron had opened the portrait. Ron felt his heart was breaking slowly. He loved Hermione, and somehow he always thought they would end up together. And so, he gambled in a game of manipulation and eventually Harry left to go on his noble quest. Ron had trouble convincing Hermione it was okay and all for the best. When news came of Harry's death, Ron had consoled Hermione (and himself) by convincing her it was his destiny and Harry knew it before he left. But that in itself had been an odyssey.

But Hermione never knew about Magiviertal or his secret plans with Sirius Black. Now it was time for Ron to talk to Sirius, before the secrets broke out. Harry had to go back, if only so Ron could save his marriage.

Harry ate quietly; unsurprisingly, words were hard to find. Hermione told Harry about her job, she was the chief editor for Quills in Action Publishing Company, a job she absolutely loved. She could work at home and still learn all she wanted to. Hermione watched Harry watch her. She saw his eyes holding a melancholy she felt in her heart.

"Harry, we have to talk about this you know."

"Talk about what?" He asked, tearing a piece of bread apart.

"About this," she said, motioning with her hand, at the room. "I know you are upset; you forget, I can read you like any of my books. But I don't know why, and I'm not sure you trust me enough to say."

Harry looked around; he hadn't lied when he said he didn't remember where he had been. But he also knew why he had left. He had left so she could have all this. He had left to fulfill his destiny. So why was he back? Had it all been a dream? No, he remembered her letters, letters left at his grave in Godric's Hallow. His grave. That was a sobering thought. He thought that he had died, he remembered what it felt like. Yet he was living and breathing right across from Hermione.

"I don't know, Hermione. I mean this is all a bit surreal. Here I sit across from you, and yet I remember dying. I remember the day I left you. And you sit there as if nothing has happened. And I completely understand that as well. I can only imagine what it's like for me to just appear out of thin air into your life again. It's what you wished for in your letters-" Hermione cut him off, shocked by what he had just said.

"You got my letters? How is that, I mean, they were at your grave."

"I don't know. I just remember them." Harry shrugged.

"Harry, than you must know, that I love you still."

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Sirius, what is going on here? I want answers; why is my best friend alive?" Red was quickly streaming into Ron Weasly's face, shading it the color of his flaming hair. Sirius picked up his bottle of Willow Wanderer's Scotch and poured into his cup. His eyes were those of a man who had already had his fill of scotch for the day.

"Back off, Ron; one might assume you were unhappy about your friend's return," Sirius said bitterly. Ron checked himself, and continued.

"Sirius, you know that I am as pleased as anyone to have Harry back. But you must realize his return does present some problems."

"Like keeping him out of her pants?" Ron pulled out his wand but found himself facing the opposite end of a Sirius' wand before he could even raise his own. "Hah, I knew it. You are jealous of your best friend and always have been!"
"I didn't come here to be on the receiving end of your insults, Sirius. I just want answers."

"Answers that I have already said I do not have at the moment. Just because I knew the prophecy does not mean that I could predict the outcome," Sirius said, slowly putting his wand back into his holster and taking a long sip of his drink. Then he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Now listen to me. I don't know why Harry is back. The prophecy was clear that he was to sacrifice himself and gain passage into the Magiviertal. Past that no one knows, the other half was never found." Sirius paused, running his hands through his hair. "However this may wreck the way things are now, I cannot say that I am unhappy in seeing him."

Deep within the recess between space and time, in the misty spaces of the Magiviertal a man within shadows waits for his assistant. "Milord, I have come with information concerning the Potter."

"Speak Cassandra, and please make it quick. The fates are determined to torment me with a headache today."

"He has arrived on earth. The Gatekeeper is not too pleased with his arrival. And the Messenger is unsure of the repercussions of this task."

"Cassandra, please tell me something I did not know. This was all to be expected." He said losing his patience.

"The Potter has forgotten this place. It will be some time before he will remember what he must do."

"Yes, well his eagerness to take the mission did cause a few problems. If he had waited than he would not have this amnesia, however The Potter and the rest of the Eternal Guild do seem to be a mettlesome group."

Cassandra stood watching him with her olive shaped eyes. She could feel the Master's eyes wandering over her body as he often did.

"You may leave now Cassandra," he said and watched as she flounced out of the room, her tight brown curls bouncing with every step.

Cassandra knew the Master liked her. Odds are she shouldn't have been chosen to come to the Magiviertal, but he had chosen her out of all the other recruits...

January 21, 2000

"Honestly, I can't believe that he did that, Irene. I mean, I know I should have read the text, but seriously, to pick on me like that was absurd. Yeah I'll talk to you later,- mhhmm. Okay- Yeah- Bye." Cassandra folded her handy and put it into her purse and got out her flat keys. Finally finding them, while balancing a coffee and her purse in the other hand, she made her way into the flat. Setting her coffee on the table, she switched on the light to see a man sitting in the corner.

"Wh- Who are you?" She faltered. If only she hadn't gotten off the phone with Irene so quickly.

"Good evening, Cassandra. I am here on behalf of the Guilds of the Magiviertal. My name is the Master. First off, I mean you no harm. Do you believe in Magic?"

It took some time for him to convince her that magic was real. She was a skeptic, her logic that had helped her achieve a complicated math major did not like to believe in abstract concepts such as magic. Magic was for the fairy tales and Disney stories.

"Okay, I believe, but what does this have to do with me, I am a Muggle as you said," she said with a voice that did not seem her own.

"You are a muggle, though more special than all that- Let me put it this way, you are gifted. If you were not, you would not see me at all. At the dawn of civilization the gods gave man the chance to control more than the simple things of the universe. They gave men the chance to control magi, the source of magic. They soon learned that few could handle the full power. In fact it was only four families to be precise. The four families vowed to take it upon themselves to see how much power was given to the others. A hierarchy of sorts was created. The lowest of all humans were those who could not perform any magic. Next, are the Sadinoha, that is what you are, my dear Cassandra. Sadinoha are sensitive to magic. However, they can not perform any kind of magic including: spells and potions. After the Sadinoha come Squibs, who cannot perform spells but can, after some work, perform potions and some simple spells. Next: regular wizards, who can perform spells, potions, divination, herbology, and various other forms of magic. The ones I mentioned before are all well known branches of magic except for the Sadinoha, for they are not mentioned to the wizarding world. This is also true of the following. The Gatekeepers were given special powers by the families of Magiviertal to guard the gates and allow passage into the Magiviertal. Then there are the families themselves, who are known by the names: Eternal, Phoenix, Trilhall, and Samson Guilds. The members of the Guilds can channel magi into magic in ways that few even dream about. Basically the Magiviertal is the spring source of magic. However, the Sadinoha are needed in the Magiviertal because they, combined with this spring source are excellent diviners. And you Cassandra are next."

Cassandra never knew why she agreed or even what her job would entail, but she enjoyed the romanticism of it all.

So she had learned. She left her life in England behind, letting her family think she had died was difficult, however something told her it was the right thing to do. And she had seen the good. The other Sadinoha and herself had divined the end of the Dark Lord's terror and had been successful in convincing the Messenger and Gatekeeper to approve of the Potter's decision. For eighteen years peace was known in the Magiviertal. The members of the Guild were happier than ever. But all that would change.

"What do you mean, 'that's what I was afraid of '?" Hermione asked, anger rising to her cheeks. She felt like the ground was falling out from under her.

"Hermione, I died twenty years ago! Twenty YEARS! I loved you, but like you said, I knew I could not commit. And now, more then ever, I feel even less able to commit. I don't know what happened to me." Harry's eyes had fallen to the ground in embarrassment. But Hermione could not understand why, surely there was more.

"Harry, I don't care about that, you are here and you are real. What more could I ask for?"

"What about your family, Mione? What about them? You used to know what I would have given to be with my family. What about your children?"

His words hung in the air. She loved Harry, no question about that. In fact she had once loved him enough to consider breaking Ron's heart, though, as she had thought often, it might have been better for everyone involved if she had done it twenty years ago. Now it wasn't just her life and his, but that of her children.

"I don't know right now, OKAY? I just know how I feel right now."

"And believe me, Dear heart, I love you; unfortunately I know you won't forget that." Harry got up and walked around the room, looking at the pictures that were displayed in her parlor. She had once taken great pride in the photographs of her family. She had been so proud to have children, to think that they were formed from her own flesh. She had documented their lives. James' first step, and Rebecca's first birthday, all the special moments lined the walls. And sprinkled between the photos were photos of her and Ron; and, though painful, Harry. Her son was almost the same age as Harry was the last time she had seen him.

"Your right, naturally, I need to think of my children," she said brushing stray tears from her eyes. "I need to get some fresh air, "she said, frantically reaching for her coat. "I'll be back later, if Ron comes back while I'm gone, just tell him that I needed air. Fresh air!" she said as she slammed the door shut behind her.

Hermione let herself wander in the cool air that bit her cheeks. She knew Harry was being logical, which did not help the situation any more then her refusal to see to reason. She loved him. And she loved her family. And Harry had been right, she should do whatever it takes to keep her family in place. But Harry was right, she could never forget if even in a thousand years how it felt to be loved by him. She knew she was a glutton for pain, which she honestly did not need to deal with again. Her love for him had almost killed her many a time. Until finally, that devotion consumed her.

Sitting down at the fountain at the edge of town, she looked up at the stars. So many of them, always there, always reliable...

"A penny for your thoughts?" Harry asked brushing his lips upon her fingers that were entwined in his hands.

"I love you," she said, sighing into his shoulder. She could feel him go rigid at the words. She knew what his problem was, he was worried. The Dark Lord had been remarkably silent in the last few weeks. Tensions were rising and Harry was becoming more anxious about his future.

She turned to look at him, and he looked straight into her eyes.

"You know, I might not always be here. But, these stars always will. And like these stars I will always love you."

Harry fell into a restless sleep. Images of Hermione's tear stained face mingled with that of Lord Voldemort's sneer. He was walking through mist toward a gate, Sirius was there and he unlocked the gate for him. And his mother and father were there to meet him. And it was wonderful. He remembered the love he felt surrounded by, and the power he had. But he did not have the power to stop Hermione. He was trapped in his own private prison, one that he chose, watching his love move on. Except she never moved on, year after year, he watched her go to his grave, and leave behind a single white rose and a letter. A brown haired angel would bring him the letters and they would make him cry with regret. He had wanted to be with his father and with his mother, to finally know what it felt like to know their love. But he had sacrificed her love.

"Hey, what are you doing out here, love?" Hermione started and looked up to find Ron standing over her.

"I was just thinking."

"May I ask what you were thinking?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

"Nothing much, just about how lucky we are, and," she paused. "How lucky Harry was." She paused, turning away. "Did you and Sirius find any answers?"

"No"

"Tomorrow I will go and help. I know you mean well, but you aren't the most patient. Maybe you can do something with Harry."

"Yeah, maybe. I think Sirius wants to spend time with him tomorrow; do you want to go out? Just the two of us?"

"Sounds great," she said, turning back to Ron and kissing him on the cheek.

"Can I walk you home, my dear?"

"Sure." Hermione took Ron's proffered hand and they walked toward their home, both secretly unsure of what was to come.