Scattered

Ron felt a tight ache in his chest as he watched Hermione weep quietly, her arms wrapped around Harry as fiercely as possible. He'd been selfish these past few months, talking to her about wanting to be with Harry, missing Harry, missing his friend, missing their friend. He'd never admitted it until this moment, but deep down he'd always thought of Harry as his best mate, as his and Hermione's friend... but he hadn't given much thought to the friendship that existed outside of him, between Hermione and Harry.

It was a strange feeling. On one hand, since almost the beginning it had been the three of them, always, a trio, working as a team. And that was true, in a sense. But he and Harry had been friends first and, except for that barmy time in fourth year when they'd been fighting, had never wavered since. Maybe he had always thought of Harry as his best mate first, and then part of their trio second. And unconsciously, these past few months, that's how he'd been thinking, never stopping to wonder if Hermione missed Harry just as her friend, not as part of their tightly-knit circle.

Hermione loved Harry completely, Ron knew, with a steadfast loyalty. She'd do anything for Harry. Even when she disagreed with him, she didn't abandon him and instead defended him against any and all challengers. Harry was like family to her, he knew, the way Ginny or Charlie or even the twins were to him. Someone you stood beside, no matter what, against anyone and anything. Even when they were driving you mad, and even when you were so angry at them you couldn't see straight. No matter what, they were always family, and Hermione was that loyal to Harry. She'd stand by him through thick and thin, forever.

Ron heard Harry murmur something to Hermione and she laughed, pulling back a little. Harry's eyes were a little red and he turned his face away, but not before Ron caught his expression, saw the emotions close to the surface, the anxiety giving way to relief. As rarely as Ron had ever thought about Hermione's friendship with Harry, he'd given even less thought to how Harry really felt about their studious and sometimes rather bossy female friend.

Ron thought back over the years and finally appreciated how different Harry's friendship with Hermione was from the one he shared with him. Harry relied on Hermione for something he couldn't turn to anyone else for. He talked to her, and told her things he never told Ron or anyone else. Not things that had happened to him so much as things he felt. I guess it would be easier to talk to a girl, a girl like Hermione, about those kinds of things, Ron thought to himself. Assuming you didn't fancy her like mad, which is why I wouldn't know. Ron had gone through periods where he'd had difficulty talking about the weather with Hermione, he'd been so nervous and uncomfortable around her. Discussing his "feelings" had certainly never been an option. But Harry, he knew for certainty, had never once entertained those kinds of thoughts about Hermione.

It'd been late one night, fifth year, up in their dorm room. Seamus had made a comment about Hermione -- a flattering comment, but a little too suggestive for Ron's taste. He'd frozen, his face heating up and the blood rushing to his face, but before he'd had a chance to beat the bloody hell out of his roommate, Harry, surprisingly enough, had spoken up.

"Hey. Don't talk about Hermione like that," he'd said.

"Why? Am I moving in on your territory or something?" Seamus had joked back, undeterred.

"Don't be stupid. But how'd you like it if I talked about your sister that way, and in front of you? It'd hack you off, that's for sure. That's how I feel about Hermione, so, cut it."

Now, Ron watched as Harry led Hermione over to the sofa and the tight band in his chest was still there, but it wasn't from jealousy or insecurity. He simply knew how much this moment meant to both of them, and at the same time, he couldn't help kicking himself, mentally, for not being more supportive of Hermione over the past few months, at least in this regard. Instead of always whinging about missing Harry himself, he could've stopped for at least one second and asked her how she felt about it. He gave himself a final berating and joined them on the sofa, he and Harry at either end and Hermione in the middle, wiping away her last tears and laughing at the same time.

"All right, there?" he asked her, and she smiled, rolling her eyes.

"Harry's making fun of me," she said with mock anger. "As if I don't get enough of that from you."

"You two still arguing constantly?" Harry asked with a sigh, leaning back in his corner of the sofa and closing his eyes. "In a strange way, I missed that. But not too much, if you know what I mean."

Ron and Hermione shared a quick glance. Ron gave her a silent, questioning look and she smiled, nodding in reply.

"Not really, actually," Ron said, casually.

"Huh?" Harry mumbled, not moving.

"I wouldn't say Ron and I don't argue at all anymore," Hermione temporized. "We do sometimes. But it's mostly in a rather... different... way."

Harry opened one eye and peered at them, frowning. He scanned first Hermione's face and, not seeming to find anything there, turned his gaze to Ron. Ron knew his face had, of course, turned beet red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"Well, finally," Harry said, reading the truth in Ron's tell-tale coloring, and closed his eye again with a satisfied smile. "I mean, if the end of the world couldn't get you two together..."

Ron took Hermione's hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

She smiled at him, but then turned back to Harry, still hesitant. "You don't mind, Harry, do you?"

Harry sat up, then, chuckling. He gave Hermione a playful punch on the shoulder. "Mind? I'm thrilled. And I'll never know what took you so long." He gave Ron a steady look. "He treating you okay?" he asked Hermione.

She nodded. "Very okay." As Ron watched, though, her face turned serious again. She reached out and brushed her fingertips against the bruise on Harry's forehead. "Harry--"

"I'm fine, Hermione."

"You really should have Madam Pomfrey look at this--"

"I already did."

Ron blinked in surprise; Harry wouldn't lie, but Hermione had always had to drag him to the hospital wing, back at school.

Hermione clearly had the same doubts. "You did?"

"After she got Hagrid settled."

Ron felt Hermione tense, her hand clenching his almost painfully. "Hagrid... oh, no. Is he hurt? Is he..."

"He's going to be okay," Harry reassured her, and Ron could hear the relief in his friend's voice. "He just got banged up... took a curse that was meant for me. But you remember, about Hagrid, normal spells aren't strong enough to hurt him as much as you or me..."

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked softly.

Harry hesitated.

"Start at the beginning, mate," Ron urged him. "Tell us everything."

"You said in that letter you sent to Ron that you were with Alastor Moody and Hagrid, looking for horcruxes. And then later, Ron's father told us how far you'd gotten," Hermione said. "Was it hard? Was it awful? Are you -- have you found them all, then?"

Ron nudged her. "Let the man get a word in edgewise, 'Mione."

"Sorry," she said contritely.

"That's okay," Harry reassured her. He took a deep breath. "Well, it was hard. We hardly saw other people for weeks at a time, sometimes. Or when we did see them, we didn't speak to them. Or if we did, we were so heavily disguised I didn't feel like myself. It was... yeah, it was hard," he repeated. He gave Hermione a fond smile. "I missed you being there, talking every last, little, particular detail out, making me see every single aspect of everything. And I missed you, Ron, backing me up. That's when I would even miss listening to the two of you argue. Hagrid's too good-hearted to argue with and Moody wasn't... well... anyhow, Dobby was there, at least, making sure we had everything we needed. And Hagrid did do his best to keep me company. He told me a lot of stories about my Mum and Dad. Not important, earth-shattering ones, just little things I'd never heard before, you know, what their wedding was like. Who my Mum's friends were at school, and after she got married. Stupid things my father did to make her laugh."

"Sounds pretty mushy," Ron said, earning a scoff from Hermione. He grinned in response, unrepentant.

"Well, kind of," Harry agreed. "But it took my mind off other things. Sometimes."

He grew quiet again, and Hermione glanced at Ron nervously.

"Go on, mate," Ron urged.

"How did you find the horcruxes?" Hermione prompted. "Was it difficult?"

"The locket was pretty easy," Harry continued. "It had been at Grimmauld Place. R.A.B., that was Regulus, Sirius' brother. Only Mundungus had sold it off somewhere... but we tracked it down. Moody knew what to do." He paused. "Then it was the cup. That took longer. Helga Hufflepuff's cup," he explained for their benefit. "The one I learned about in the memory Dumbledore shared with me, the cup Tom Riddle wanted from that woman. We found where it was, and where Rowena Ravenclaw's quill was, but we didn't have the resources to get to either one of them for months. That was the hardest. We just waited, and waited, and Moody would go off for days and come back with no new leads. Eventually he worked out a way to get the cup, and we did. It was in these catacombs, in London, way way down. There were Inferi guarding it...we got lucky and we were almost done and away before they attacked. That's when my arm got kind of scraped up," he said, rubbing at the scar just visible there. "But it wasn't too bad.

"The quill, though. The Lestranges had the quill. In their house. Guarded all the time, Death Eaters all over the place. I just couldn't see how we were going to get in there, let alone be able to destroy it and get out again alive," he said. "And this time, Moody wasn't going off looking for leads or information. He just said to be ready, and that it would be soon. The next thing I knew, we were in, with Dobby's help."

Ron was confused.

"I've told you before, Ron, elves have their own magic," Hermione reminded him. "They can come and go from places that wizards and witches can't, and they can perform spells others can't, as well, and without a wand. Dobby probably used his magic to find a weak spot in the wards around the Lestranges' house and got Harry, Moody and Hagrid in at precisely that point."

Harry smiled. "That's exactly what he did, though I didn't understand it until later. You really are brilliant, Hermione, you know that?"

She waved the compliment aside, but Ron knew how much Harry's praise meant to her.

"It's the elves that are brilliant," she said, "and powerful. I believe that's why they were enslaved in the first place, because some wizards were afraid of their power."

"What happened when you got inside?" Ron asked Harry before Hermione got off on too much of a tangent.

Harry had gotten into a kind of rhythm with his story, a fast and choppy recounting of the events of the past few months that left out the mundane but covered the important points. Now, though, he fell silent, seemingly stuck, as if he couldn't remember the thread of his own memories -- or didn't want to remember them. Neither Ron nor Hermione said anything this time, knowing Harry needed to explain the rest on his own terms.

"Moody shielded us and he died," he said finally, in a flat tone. "It turned out that was his plan. He used spells I'd never heard before and somehow, there was no way for Bellatrix, her husband, or any other Death Eater to get to us -- not until they'd gotten past Moody. To get past him, they had to kill him. And they did. He held on... he held on so long. It had to be excruciating, what they were doing to him. But he held on, because we hadn't gotten out yet. He waited until he saw we were outside, and then he let himself die."

Hermione had grown still as Harry had talked, and as he finished Ron saw her shoulders shake in a convulsive shudder. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back towards him. She leaned against him slightly but said nothing.

Harry ran his hands over his face and looked away, staring into the fireplace. "Every time someone I know dies because of that bastard, it just makes me want to kill Voldemort all the more. And then I think, when did I start wanting to kill anyone? When did I make that decision? How did that happen without my noticing?" He sighed. "That's when I realize, I never did. But it doesn't matter. It needs to be done, and that's all that matters."

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione said. "About Moody. About everything."

"Hagrid said -- later on, I mean -- Hagrid said that Alastor Moody never wanted to die an old man, lying peacefully in his bed. He wanted to go out fighting, fighting to win. In a sense I know Hagrid's right. I just wish, if that's the way Moody was meant to go, he'd gotten to see it through to the end."

"So you and Hagrid and Dobby got out, and came here?" Ron asked.

Harry grimaced. "Well, we got out of the house. And we were just trying to get back to our last hideout, to regroup, but Lestrange -- the husband -- caught up with us. That's when Hagrid got hit with that curse, and when I got this," he said, touching his forehead tenderly. "I had a couple of broken ribs, too, but Dobby fixed those up right away. And Pomfrey says my head's fine, and Hagrid just needs a day or two of rest. Plus a few foul-tasting potions, of course," he added with a grin.

Ron grinned back.

"And Lestrange?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry answered her simply. "He's dead."

Hermione took a quick, deep breath, but said nothing. Ron simply nodded and thought, Good riddance.

"Then we came here," Harry finished. "The only horcrux left is Nagini, and the snake's always with Voldemort. So it'll be the two of them, one after the other, or not at all." He took a deep breath and gave them a rueful smile. "So, what happened to you guys?"

* * * * *

Hermione drifted awake slowly. She was warm and comfortable and she felt Ron's presence nearby; she heard his voice, low and quiet, and she nearly drifted off again, perfectly content.

"Bill said something about a shortcut," Ron was saying, though, and it caught her attention. "I didn't know what he was talking about."

She tried to focus, hearing the tension in his voice. Her head was so fuzzy, though, and unclear. She remembered, hazily, that they'd started to tell Harry about what they'd been doing the past few months: getting to the safehouse, moving in, fitting in. Hearing that George was missing (Harry had flinched but said nothing), bringing Hermione's parents to visit, learning where everyone else was. Harry had asked, quietly, about Ginny, and Ron had assured him that she'd been safe the entire time with McGonagall.

Hermione had tried to stay awake, she really had, but that last dose of Anti-Flu potion had made her incredibly sleepy. She'd been dead to the world when Arthur had woken them up, but seeing Harry had, briefly, wiped away all her drowsiness. After awhile, though, as Ron had talked about television and the gym he'd gone to, and then Harry had asked more about George, her eyes had started to droop closed. She'd fought it as long as she could, but apparently eventually she'd dozed off.

Slowly coming awake now, she found she was curled up against Ron, her head pillowed against his chest, his arms holding her in place. She was just about to sit up when Harry's question stopped her.

"I don't understand, Ron. Hermione's okay, obviously, right? Was there something wrong?"

"Yeah. Yeah, there was."

Ron stopped speaking. His arms were stiff and tight around her and she waited, silently. She knew she should probably let the boys know that she was awake but, at the same time, she didn't want to stop this. She wanted Ron to have the chance to tell Harry about what had happened, in his own way. If she joined in, it would be her telling it, not Ron. And she also couldn't deny that she'd had very little success, over the ensuing months, getting Ron to talk about what had happened, about her own experience especially, or about Neville's death. He needed to talk to someone about it, though, and this could be a start.

"Was someone there?" Harry asked.

"Malfoy," Ron said finally. "Malfoy and Nott. But not when we got there, when Hermione and Neville got there. He caught them off guard, got their wands away from them. They didn't have a chance."

"Tell me what happened," Harry demanded, his voice all at once quiet and intense.

She felt Ron take a deep breath.

"Neville's dead," he said. She waited, but Harry didn't say anything. "Hermione says he let Malfoy kill him. Made him kill him, really. To save her."

"I don't understand."

Hermione kept herself still, resisting the urge to jump in and explain.

"Malfoy told Neville he could go, that he only wanted Hermione... that Voldemort didn't want them killing purebloods if they could help it. Neville... he wouldn't leave. He stayed, and Malfoy killed him. And then..." Ron trailed off, his heart beating heavily beneath her ear. "He cast the Avada Kedavra at Hermione," he said in an anguished whisper. "And it didn't work, because of Neville. In fact, it killed Malfoy."

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

"Did Neville ever tell her how he felt about her?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron replied. "She didn't know. She didn't understand until Bill and I explained it to her. Later. She... she took it really hard."

Ron's hand moved slowly up her arm and settled in her hair. She could feel him running his fingers through the curly strands, slowly, almost absent-mindedly. He did it often, usually at night before they went to sleep, and she'd never thought anything of it. Now, though, she knew he did it for the same reason she sometimes buried her face in the crook of his neck, or toyed with the hair at his nape. For reassurance. For comfort.

"Is she completely okay?" Harry asked, and Hermione's heart ached at the worry she could hear in his voice.

Ron replied, "Mum and Pomfrey looked at her when she got here. They're sure she's fine." He paused. "She has a scar like yours, though."

"Where?" Harry asked, surprised. "I don't see anything."

"It's not on her forehead. It's on her chest."

There was a small, surprised silence and Hermione felt herself blush.

"Oh," was all Harry said. "I just can't get my mind around... that Neville's gone."

"I know," Ron replied.

Hermione sighed, feeling the same. She stirred and opened her eyes. "Hey," she said sleepily. "I can't believe I fell asleep like that, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Ron told her, shifting his arms as she sat up. "I know you're still not feeling well. She's had a cold," he said to Harry, "and she works too hard."

"No, I don't." She turned to face Harry. "Harry... I heard Ron tell you about Neville. Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

He looked at her, his eyes searching her face for anything to grab onto, to help him understand. She could tell he was feeling overwhelmed. "I can't believe he's gone," Harry said.

"I know," she answered. "It's still hard for me to accept, as well. We'd gotten so close, all of us, at the safehouse. He was always a wonderful friend, and I never knew... I didn't know how he felt about me. All I know is that I owe my life to him, and that I'll never forget him."

"I hate this," Harry said, standing abruptly and crossing over to the fireplace mantle, his back to them. "This. People like... Malfoy," he spit out, "taking people like Neville from us. It's not fair. It's not right, that the world works this way. I mean, Neville? Neville was a great guy. He never hurt anyone. He tried to do his best, all the time. And what did it get him? Parents who never knew who he was, to start with, and bastards like that Snape treating him like garbage, and now... this..."

Hermione crossed to him swiftly, putting her arms around his stiff, unrelenting frame and hugging him tightly. "It's not fair at all," she agreed firmly. "It's not. But the only way I can deal with it is to honor his memory, and never forget what he did for me."

Harry remained frozen in place for a few silent moments, and then finally he seemed to sag, turning to hug her back. "I won't ever forget it either," he said quietly. "If anything had happened to you or Ron, Hermione... I don't think I could have handled it."

"I know," she whispered back. "I know."

Harry took a deep breath and gave her a small smile; she squeezed his hand in return and went back over to the sofa, stealing his corner seat and curling her feet under her.

"So," Harry said, slouching into the overstuffed chair opposite them. "That's when you came to the island?"

"That's right," Ron replied. "Kind of a scary and depressing trip here but... you know, good to get home. See Mum and Dad again. Charlie was here already, too, and Percy and Penny --"

"Percy?" Harry interrupted, surprised.

"Yeah, he's, uh, not really much of a git anymore. Not a git at all, actually. You'll see," Ron said, smiling awkwardly. "I know it's hard to believe but, he's kind of a likable bloke now."

"And he's married to Penny," Hermione added. "They're having a baby."

Harry looked amazed. "Wow. Any other big surprises?"

"Well, Remus and Tonks got married, but that shouldn't surprise you all that much," Hermione said, grinning. Harry shook his head, looking pleased. "Winky is here, running the castle -- along with Ron's mum, of course."

"Dobby told me," Harry said. "He said she's much better, that she likes it here. This place is pretty big," he added, looking around. "What about the island itself?"

"It's great," Ron said. "Dad and I have spent a lot of time going around, checking things out, along with Hamish -- Hamish McFusty. Do you know about the McFustys?"

"Your dad told me."

"The island's about fifty or so square kilometers, so it's a good size, lots of beach, and a forest in the middle. Charlie's over the moon because there're dragons -- two Hebridean Blacks, right here on the island. Wait until Hagrid hears."

Harry laughed out loud. "He's going to be thrilled." He checked his watch. "You know, it's almost morning. Want to go see him? I'll let you break the good news."

"Sure," Hermione said, eager to see their old friend.

As she stood, though, Ron took her hand and held her back. "There's, um, something we want to tell you first, though," he said nervously. He stood beside her and she smiled shyly, remembering their news.

Harry looked panicked, though. "Is there... did something else bad happen? Something you haven't told me yet?" he asked.

"Oh, no, Harry, there's nothing else," Hermione hastily reassured him, sorry to have given him cause for concern. "It's a good thing."

Harry looked relieved. "What is it, then?"

Hermione looked up at Ron and smiled.

"I, um, on New Year's, I asked Hermione to marry me," Ron mumbled, his ears as red as she'd ever seen them. "And she said yes."

Harry's eyes went wide and he looked at each of them in turn, back and forth, his mouth hanging slightly open. "Married? You're getting married?!"

"Yes," Hermione replied. She frowned slightly at Harry's shocked expression. Taking a step forward, she took his hand in both of hers. "Harry, you're happy for us, aren't you?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes," he said immediately, distractedly. "Yes." He looked at her, and then at Ron, and finally he smiled widely. "Yes! Of course. I'm just -- really surprised. God! Congratulations," he said, jumping up and embracing Hermione, then reaching for Ron, pounding his back again and shaking his hand. "It's wonderful. I mean it."

"Really?" Hermione asked, still worried. "You seemed sort of... I don't know," she trailed off, somewhat miserably. Harry's first reaction hadn't been what she'd been hoping for.

He seemed to sense this, though, and he turned to her, serious. "I'm sorry, 'Mione, I didn't mean to be weird. I really was just shocked." He saw her face and knew she wasn't entirely convinced. He sighed. "I've thought you two belonged together for ages, and now that you are together, I've no doubt you'll stay that way forever. I mean that. I just -- it seems like just a little while ago we were taking our O.W.L.s, doesn't it? Going to Hogsmeade, taking classes, meeting each other on the Hogwarts Express in First Year... when you said you were getting married, for a second there I couldn't help thinking, but we're still just kids, aren't we? You know?" He gave her an apologetic look. "But then again, that's not really true anymore, is it? Hasn't been for awhile."

"No, not really," Ron agreed. "I dunno, mate, all I know is what you said. Hermione and I are always going to be together so... I don't see what difference waiting would make. I think we're ready now."

Harry nodded. "You're right." He smiled at Hermione. "You're right. Come on, don't frown, and don't look unhappy, or else Hagrid will read me the riot act," he cajoled. "He had quite a few thoughts to share with me over the past few months, and one in particular was on the theme of 'You And Ron Don't Appreciate Hermione Enough, You Stupid Sods'. If he hears about me being a prat again, and already, he'll never let me hear the end of it."

Hermione laughed, then, and thumped Harry lightly on the shoulder. "It'd serve you right."

Harry thumped her back, but then he rested his hand on her shoulder, gently, and smiled. "This is the best news I've heard in a very long time," he told them. "To be honest, maybe the best news ever. I mean that. This makes me, well, really happy."

"Thank you, Harry," she told him, beaming. "You know, we've been waiting for you to come home before we started to plan the wedding."

"Couldn't do it without you here, mate," Ron said.

"I get to be best man," Harry stated, eagerly.

"Of course," Ron assured him. "As if I'd ask anyone else."

"And I get to make a toast, and say all sorts of embarrassing things about you two," Harry went on gleefully. "God, it's going to be great."

Ron scowled. "Oh yeah? Well, I'll make all the blokes in the wedding party wear orange dress robes, then. With really hideous lace trim. I know just what they'll look like, I can see it in my mind's eye..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As if your mother would let that happen, Ron," she scoffed. "Not to mention me. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go see Hagrid before you two start threatening each other with poisonous flower arrangements." She gave them each a parting scowl and led the way out of the common room, her heart lighter than it had been in months.