The Book of Morgan Le Fey

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Picking Up Pieces

The students slowly filled the common room, and took up positions on the sofa, chairs, the hearth rug, and on the staircases. Katie Bell was not there; Ron could only assume she had gone to her own Head Girl quarters, probably with Andrew, who'd comforted her in the Great Hall and with an Auror to guard them.

Susan had somehow managed to blend in with the crowd and find her way in; she was clutching Harry's hand and they stood next to one another by the fire, but nobody questioned her presence. Ron certainly wasn't going to say anything; it made sense for Harry and Susan to be together now, after all that had happened.

Ron clenched his fists nervously. He had to tell the others about Malfoy and Snape, but he couldn't do it with all the students crowding the common room. They all looked scared and tired, but nobody seemed to want to go to bed.

'Hermione,' Ron said in a low voice, and he tugged her gently closer to him. 'I have to tell you something.'

'What, now?' said Hermione, sounding surprised.

'Yes, now,' he hissed. 'It concerns Harry and the rest of us. But we need to get this lot into bed. Can we just, I dunno, pull rank as prefects and get them upstairs?'

Hermione bit her lip. She looked conflicted, and Ron immediately understood why. She hated the idea of abusing her position, and forcing everyone to go upstairs just so she could hear what Ron had to say seemed like an abuse of power.

'Hermione, I wouldn't ask if it weren't important,' Ron whispered. 'Please. And look at it this way. McGonagall's out and Katie's in her room and she can't deal with this stuff right now. So, aren't we sort of--the default people in charge?'

Hermione looked up at him. 'I suppose you're right,' she admitted. 'Okay. Maybe--maybe I should make some sort of announcement?'

'I'll do it,' he said.

'Are you sure?' she said quickly. 'I can--'

'Excuse me!' Ron said out loud, without waiting for Hermione to finish. 'Listen up! I know everyone's been through a lot here today, and it's been bloody awful--'

'Ron, don't swear!' Hermione hissed.

'I mean, it's been really bad,' said Ron quickly. 'But we're all of us knackered and it's going to be a long day tomorrow, what with helping clean up the school and--and helping Madam Pomfrey and everything. So, I think we should all turn in, okay?'

'How are we supposed to sleep after all that?' said Dennis Creevey. 'I know I'm going to have nightmares!'

'Me, too!' cried a fourth year girl.

'So am I!' hollered Seamus.

'Quiet down!' Ron yelled. 'Look, if anyone thinks they'll have trouble sleeping, I've got some Dreamless Sleep Draught I never used; you're welcome to it, all right?'

'You've got enough for the whole house, do you?' said Geoffrey Hooper.

'Oh,' said Ron, realizing that he probably didn't have more than enough for six or seven students, at most. 'Well, uh--'

'I've got some, too,' said Hermione.

'Me, too,' said Harry.

'And me,' said Ginny.

This news brought several murmurs of relief, Ron included.

'Okay, then,' said Ron. 'Uh, boys can just ask Harry and me and girls can ask Ginny and Hermione. Just, uh, go on upstairs and we'll be up in a few.'

Gradually, the students began to filter up their respective staircases. Ron noticed Lavender climbing the boys' staircase with Seamus, but said nothing. Lavender was badly shaken by what had happened to Parvati; she'd want to be near Seamus, no doubt. Ron didn't care, really--he wanted Hermione with him, too. Everything had become so...dire. As if they were all living on borrowed time.

Susan, Harry, Neville, Ginny and Hermione all lagged behind with Ron, and soon the common room was empty, but for them.

And one little girl, a first year by the look of her, who wouldn't budge, but stood in the middle of the room with tears streaming silently down her face.

'Ron,' Hermione whispered nervously.

'It's okay--' Ron began, addressing the girl, but she began to sob out loud.

'I wanna go home!' she bawled.

'Ron, do something!' Hermione hissed. Ron shot her a look of desperation and searched his brain for a way to comfort the girl. He was barely aware of his feet moving toward her. When he reached her, he instinctively knelt down--she was tiny and he would look huge and intimidating standing at his full height.

'Hey, hey,' he said softly, and he put a hand carefully on the girl's small shoulder. 'None of that, yeah? You're a Gryffindor.'

'Yes,' she mumbled, tears spilling down her cheeks.

'What's your name?' Ron asked. Maybe if he distracted her that would help.

'L-Lizzie Towler,' she whimpered.

'Are you a first year?' he asked.

'No,' said the girl, a bit defensively. 'Second year.'

'Oh. Of course,' said Ron, blushing a bit. 'Right. Well, Lizzie, you've got to get permission to go home from your mum and dad.'

The girl began to sob again. Ron groaned inwardly and quickly tried to repair the damage.

'It's okay,' he said quickly, trying to make his voice sound soothing. 'You can talk to your mum and dad tomorrow, okay?'

Her sobs quieted and she looked at him pathetically.

'You promise?' she said, in a small voice.

Ron swallowed, and then he thought of something.

'You bet,' he said, and he grinned. 'You know Professor Weasley?'

The girl nodded.

'Well, he's my brother,' said Ron. 'Did you know that?'

Lizzie nodded again, and she smiled and gave a kind of half-sob, half-giggle. 'He looks like you. Except he's even taller than you and he's got really cool hair and this really cool earring and he's really smart and he's really, really cute.'

Ron heard Hermione and the others snigger behind him.

'Yup, that's Bill, er, Professor Weasley all right,' said Ron. 'Well, you remember what he said in the Great Hall, right? About how you could use his fireplace to call home?'

'I think so,' said Lizzie. Her sobs were now soft sniffles, and Ron realized that whatever he was doing was working.

'Okay,' he said, running with this theme. 'Tomorrow morning, first thing, you and me will find Professor Weasley and ask him if you can use his fireplace to call home, yeah?'

'I c-can call my mum and daddy?' Lizzie said shakily.

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'Absolutely.'

'You'll take me to his office and everything?' said Lizzie.

'Sure,' said Ron.

'Okay,' said Lizzie, and she looked much more relaxed now. She had stopped crying and was wiping her eyes.

'So, you just go on to sleep now, okay?' said Ron. 'You want your rest, because, uh, because you'll want to get up real early to talk to your mum and dad, right?'

'Okay,' she said again, and she smiled weakly. 'Thanks.'

'No problem,' said Ron, feeling very relieved that he'd managed to calm her down. Lizzie turned and started up the girl's staircase.

Halfway up she turned and looked right at Ron.

'My big brother Kenneth knew your brother, Percy,' she said. 'He said Percy was a real stick in the mud and that all prefects were grouchy gits. But for a prefect you're quite nice.'

Harry barked out a laugh that he turned into a cough.

Ron blushed. 'Uh, thanks.'

And with that, Lizzie Towler marched up the rest of the stairs and into the girls' dormitories.

Ron turned back to the others, all of whom were laughing quietly behind their hands.

All but Hermione, who was gazing at him with something rather like awe.

'What?' he asked, lowering his voice.

'Nothing,' she said, but her mouth curled into a small smile.

'Tell me,' said Ron.

'You just surprise me sometimes,' said Hermione. 'In a good way.'

Ron looked down at his shoes and willed his ears not to turn red again, but they did anyway.

'Yeah, well, she was upset,' he mumbled.

Harry's laughter quieted and he patted Ron on the shoulder. 'That was brilliant, mate,' he said. 'But I think you're way cuter than Bill.'

Ron smacked Harry on the back of the head, and for a moment, the mood was light, and they nearly forgot that they'd been attacked that day, and that several people had been murdered.

Nearly.

And then Ron remembered what he wanted to tell them all.

'Malfoy's gone,' he said. 'And so is Snape.'

Hermione gasped.

'I know,' said Harry heavily.

'Couldn't...couldn't Snape have gone because he had to?' said Hermione. 'You know, for his...his spy mission?'

'Maybe,' said Harry, but he sounded doubtful. 'But Malfoy's gone, too.'

'Maybe his dad's finally decided Draco can join the Death Eaters' Club officially,' said Ron darkly.

'Ron, we don't know that--'

'We have to assume it, Hermione,' said Harry firmly. 'I didn't get any flashes of Malfoy being abducted. Not like Luna and Eddie.'

'And how about Eddie?' said Ginny. 'Wonder what they want with him?'

'Maybe...maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?' Neville offered timidly.

'Do you believe that, Neville?' said Harry.

Neville blushed. 'Not really, no,' he mumbled.

'We've got to find them,' said Harry.

'"We", Harry?' said Hermione sharply. 'Do you honestly think we're going to go after them--'

'So we can tell Bill and the others,' said Harry defensively. 'No, Hermione, I don't think we should try this on our own.'

'How can we possibly find out where they went?' Neville asked.

'I can find out,' said Harry darkly.

'Harry,' said Susan, her voice full of worry, 'isn't there any other way?'

'No, Sue,' said Harry, and his voice was suddenly sad and tired. 'I wish there was. But no.'

'What way?' said Neville fearfully.

'Never mind now, Neville,' said Hermione gently, putting a placatory hand on his arm. She glanced at Harry with an expression of tight worry across her face, but she said nothing.

'No, I'll tell Neville,' said Harry. 'I'm going to try and contact Voldemort.'

Neville's face went white and he made a kind of strangled squeak before he could speak. 'Are you sure you should d-do that?'

'I don't mean contact him, like, hi, Voldemort, how're you doing, how's it going with all the murder and mayhem,' said Harry at once. Then he blushed and looked down at his shoes. 'You know how...how I sometimes wake up from a nightmare and...and get sick and stuff?'

'Yeah,' said Neville, also looking away.

'I have this connection, with him,' said Harry. 'With Voldemort. I've been training how to use Legilimency so I can sort of...read his mind, I guess.'

Neville's eyes went wide. 'Wow,' he said. 'So...so you're gonna do it again. To find out where Vol-Voldemort took Luna. And Eddie. Is...is that it?'

'That's right,' said Harry.

'You think you can?' said Neville, half-anxious and half-eager.

'I'm not sure, honestly,' said Harry. 'I think he'll be expecting me to try and he'll probably fight me on it. But I have to try.'

'And then you'll tell Bill whatever you find out, right?' said Hermione.

'I'll tell Bill, yeah,' said Harry, but he wouldn't look in Hermione's eyes.

'Promise us, Harry,' said Hermione firmly.

'I will,' said Harry, looking up at her. But his hands fidgeted.

'Do you...do you need any help with that, Harry?' said Neville, his face very red. 'I mean, I'm not sure if I can do anything but...but you know, if you need me to do something, I'd like to--'

'Thanks, Neville,' said Harry. 'You...you've helped out already. All those times you got McGonagall and stuff.'

'Right,' said Neville, and he looked down at his feet. After a moment, he announced, 'I'm going to turn in.'

And he headed up the boys' staircase out of sight.

'I'm going up, too,' said Ginny, yawning and stretching. Without a word she hugged Ron, and he hugged her back. They'd never really done too much hugging, but right now it seemed like the only appropriate thing to do. She gave him a weak smile and headed up the girls' staircase.

'We should get upstairs,' Ron said to Harry, after a long moment in which nobody spoke. 'Hand out that sleeping draught.'

'Oh, yes,' said Hermione. 'I'll just, um...well. Good night, then.'

'Wait,' said Ron at once, taking her hand in his, then stopped. He looked at Harry. He looked in Hermione's eyes and she seemed to understand what he wanted. She nodded.

'Hermione's, uh, with me tonight, if that's okay,' said Ron.

'And...Susan's with me,' said Harry.

'If that's okay,' said Susan quickly.

Ron considered. No, he didn't think anyone should be alone tonight, if they could help it.

'Fine by me,' said Ron. 'Though...I saw Lavender go up with Seamus, so they might be there, too.'

'Sounds like a slumber party, doesn't it?' said Hermione, giggling awkwardly.

'Harry, I really need to shower,' said Susan, tugging at her blood-stained school robes.

'You can use our bathroom, Susan,' said Hermione. 'I could use a clean-up, too. Why don't we pass out the sleeping draught and...and then we'll come up to your room later, after we've showered?'

'Okay,' said Harry.

Susan nodded.

'Right,' said Ron. 'I'm gonna shower, too, I think. Feel disgusting.'

He and Harry were still in their Quidditch things; Ron knew he must smell horrible--of sweat and dirt and blood.

Hermione nodded, smiled at him, and with Susan, ascended the girls' staircase, and Ron and Harry went up the boys'.

Upon entering, they found Neville climbing into bed; Dean as pulling on a t-shirt.

Seamus and Lavender were nowhere to be seen.

'Where's Seamus?' Ron asked.

'He and Lavender are talking in the bathroom,' said Dean. 'She's really freaked out about Parvati.'

Harry looked at Dean, then at Ron, and they both shrugged. It wasn't as if Harry and Ron hadn't had private conversations in weirder places than a bathroom.

In the next instant, there was knock on the door.

'Come in!' Harry called. The door open, and other Gryffindor boys began streaming in.

Ron and Harry gave small doses of the Dreamless Sleep Draught to several of the younger boys; Ron focused on pouring a small measure of the sleeping draught in Colin Creevey's cup; Colin downed his dose and grimaced.

'Why is every medicine that's supposed to be good for you have to taste like shite?' he complained.

'So you won't get addicted to it,' said Ron. 'At least, that's what Madam Pomfrey told me. You'd better get to bed now, Colin, or you'll be nodding off where you stand.'

'Right,' said Colin, his eyelids already heavy. He stumbled his way out of the sixth year boys' room and back to his own.

After about ten minutes, Ron and Harry finished handing out the sleeping potion. Neville took a little and fell asleep almost at once, so deeply that he didn't even snore. Dean, too, had taken some of the potion, and was sleeping so heavily he began to drool a bit.

Harry yawned and stretched, and began to pull of his Quidditch uniform. Ron followed suit.

'Blimey, I smell,' said Harry, wrinkling his nose.

'No worse than me, I'd wager,' said Ron, averting his eyes from the bloodstains on his Quidditch jumper.

They finished undressing in silence, then fetched their bath towels and bath robes, which they put on, and picked up their soap and shampoo.

Ron couldn't wait to stand under the shower; he planned to make the water as hot as he could stand it, and relished the idea of scrubbing his skin pink.

Harry and Ron both entered the sixth year boys' bathroom to find that one of the showers was running; the room was filled with steam and the sound of water running. And the sounds of something else. Voices. Two of them. One male, one female.

'Oh, yeah, right there...don't stop...'

'Mmm...like that?'

'Lower, lower...oh, god...'

Ron and Harry stared at one another; the voices belonged to Seamus and Lavender.

'What the--' said Harry, and he started round the corner. Ron tried to pull him back, but then found his own curiosity get the better of him.

The shower at the far end of the bathroom was quite obviously in use; the curtain was drawn and water was running. They couldn't see anything at first, but then the steam cleared a bit, and they saw the silhouette of two people, clearly engaged in something other than conversation.

Ron and Harry hurtled back round the corner; Ron was torn between wanting to laugh out loud--which seemed wildly inappropriate, considering what had happened today--and being entirely horrified at having caught someone he knew in the act.

'Should we say something?' Harry whispered.

'Maybe we should come back in a few minutes,' Ron suggested.

'You think it'll be over by then--'

At that moment Lavender screamed, and Seamus made a kind of incomprehensible growl.

Ron and Harry raced from the bathroom and back into the bedroom. The door to the bathroom swung shut behind them. For a moment neither one of them said anything.

'Bloody hell,' said Harry. 'That was...weird. Not weird, but...okay, it was weird.'

'We'll just, uh, wait...until they're out of the bathroom, shall we?' said Ron.

'Definitely,' said Harry. 'Definitely, let's wait.'

'Can't be too long, I don't think,' said Ron. 'They sounded...well...uh, kind of close--'

'Ugh, Ron, let's just...not go there, yeah?'

'Right. We'll just wait.'

They waited.

Fifteen minutes later Seamus and Lavender emerged from the bathroom; Lavender had on Seamus's bathrobe and her hair was freshly washed. Seamus was wrapped in a towel. The moment the four of them saw one another, they all blushed.

'Oh,' said Seamus and Lavender together.

'Uh, bathroom's free,' Seamus said.

'You two are done--' Ron began, and Harry smacked him on the back of the head, and Lavender flushed puce.

'We were talking,' she said, in a stiff voice.

'We're done talking,' said Seamus, and before the situation could get any worse, Harry and Ron bolted for the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron did indeed turn the water on in the shower as hot as it would go. He and Harry made a point to use the two shower stalls furthest from the one Seamus and Lavender had been...talking in.

After several minutes of scrubbing himself almost raw, Ron heard the other shower shut off; Harry was finished with his shower. Ron followed suit, shutting off the water. He reached out from behind the curtain, felt for his towel, grabbed it, and dried off, rubbing hard at his skin. He wished he could scrub off every layer of it and start all over, with brand new skin. Anything to get the smell of blood off him, which logically he knew wasn't there anymore, but which in his mind kept filling his nostrils.

He wrapped his towel round his waist and stepped out of the shower to see Harry leaning over the sink, wrapped in his bathrobe. His hair was wet and sticking up in all directions, and he was looking in the mirror and staring at his scar with a tired expression on his face.

'You okay, mate?' said Ron.

Harry said nothing for a moment.

'Harry?'

'I was just thinking,' said Harry. 'About this.' He put a finger to the scar on his forehead and traced it. 'Dumbledore called it a blessing and a curse. Funny, but I don't really see the blessing part yet.'

Ron said nothing. It was times like this that he felt most useless to Harry, that he wished he himself could understand, even if only for a moment, what it felt like to have the fate of the whole world on his shoulders. Maybe then he could help Harry better.

'I have to kill him, Ron,' said Harry. 'But I don't know how to do it. How the bloody hell am I supposed to do it?'

'Dunno,' said Ron. 'But...but you won't be alone.'

Harry turned to him, and Ron swallowed as he saw the green eyes film over with unshed tears.

'Thanks,' said Harry. And without another word, he turned on the tap and began to brush his teeth.

Ron watched him for a moment, then began to brush his own teeth. There was no need to say anything more. In that moment, as swiped his toothbrush across his teeth, he let himself accept his fate.

And that fate was to be with Harry Potter to the end. No matter what that end might be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dorm room was dark; the curtains to all the beds shut. Harry and Susan were asleep. Or not--Susan had done a Silencing Charm on Harry's bed. All was quiet from Seamus's bed as well. Dean and Neville both snored softly.

Ron stared at the ceiling, wide awake. He was exhausted, but it was as if he was too tired to sleep.

Hermione, too was awake. For an hour, they had lain side by side in silence. She didn't curl up next to him; she lay on her back and held his hand at her side. She had performed a Silencing Charm and an Impervious Charm on the bed, but even as she did it, Ron knew he was in no mood to fool around.

'Today was horrible,' she whispered at last.

Ron didn't want to talk about it, but he was too tired to tell her he didn't want to talk about it. Instead he heard himself say, 'Yeah, it was.'

Hermione turned on her side and looked at him. She was dry-eyed; Ron had half-expected her to break down after everything. It was usually her way, and he had grown used to it. This was new.

'I can't even cry,' she said. 'I feel like...like I should. But I can't. It's like...I've cried myself out. Or like I've gone past something.'

He didn't say anything, because he didn't know what to say, but he did have an idea of what she meant. It was probably like that same acceptance he'd felt before, in the bathroom, while brushing his teeth. It didn't erase the fear--far from it--but it made things seem just a bit simpler.

He brushed a curl away from her face. It was clear she wanted to talk. Neither of them could sleep. It was just as well.

'Are you scared?' Hermione asked. 'Of dying?'

Ron looked at her for a long moment and considered. His fingers were absently stroking her hair, her cheek.

'Not anymore,' he said. 'I mean, I don't think so, anyway. Are you?'

'A little,' said Hermione. 'But just...because it's the unknown, and because I wouldn't want to leave people behind.'

'Right,' said Ron.

'And I'm scared of losing people,' she said.

Ron nodded and looked away. He hadn't thought about losing Hermione since that awful night in the hospital wing, last year. He didn't want to start thinking about it now. He wouldn't. He forced himself to look at her.

'Harry has to fight him,' said Hermione, and now her eyes filled with tears. 'Again. After all that.'

'I know,' said Ron heavily.

'It isn't fair,' said Hermione. 'He didn't ask for this.'

'Nobody did,' said Ron.

'I just wish...I knew how to help him,' said Hermione, as a single tear escaped and ran down over the bridge of her nose.

'I think...' said Ron slowly, brushing the tear away with his thumb, '...all we can do is just, uh, be there with him, when it happens.'

'That's not enough,' said Hermione, a bit desperately. 'There has to be SOMETHING we can do. Some spell. Maybe there's a book--'

'Hermione,' said Ron, and he put a finger to her lips. 'Please. I can't tonight--it's too much.'

Hermione nodded. 'I'm sorry. I just...I hate this.'

He turned on his side and looked at her. 'Me, too.' He brushed more tears from her eyes, and she leaned in and kissed him.

It was a very soft, light sort of kiss, but it was different; Ron sensed it at once, but he couldn't place or begin to describe just HOW it was different. The touch of her lips on his was gentle, and yet...there was an intensity of feeling behind it, in the way that she breathed, in the way that her hand moved to the back of his neck and held him so firmly there.

She kissed him again, harder, opening her mouth against his, and the world began to spin. He hadn't meant to get into this tonight. He was tired, he was afraid, he was emotionally raw, and yet her mouth on his, and her tongue...they were like air.

They kissed hard for a long time, and Ron moved over her and their hands traveled, and their shirts disappeared, and he felt her hands going to places they'd never gone before, and he gasped. Things were happening fast now, and it was desperate, and he had to stop it before it got out of hand. She wasn't ready...

'Hermione,' he said, panting. His skin was alive and burning. 'Stop, please...'

'Why?' she asked. She was panting, too, and her skin was flushed and she was so beautiful with her hair spread out on the pillow. He couldn't take it; he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from his flesh.

'I can't...if you keep doing that...' Ron gasped. 'I won't...be able to stop.'

For a moment neither one of them said anything, or moved, but for the rising and falling of their chests as they fought for breath. Hermione's lips were red and swollen, and she licked them and spoke.

'I don't know...if I want you to stop,' she whispered.

Ron's eyes--before unfocused--went wide.

'Wha--you mean...NOW?' he whispered.

Hermione bit her lip and looked away. 'I don't know,' she said. 'I just...I just want to forget all that bad stuff and have something good to fall asleep to. Do you...know what I mean?' She looked up at him earnestly.

'Yeah,' said Ron, and he meant it. It was so tempting. Just to give in to everything he felt and to make love with her and forget about all the horrible things that had happened today. People had died today, and though they themselves had survived it, they might not make it past tomorrow. And yet...

'Hermione,' Ron said slowly, 'I may regret this, but...but I don't think we should tonight.'

Hermione looked at him with an inscrutable expression.

'Why not?' she asked.

'Because...because we're not really alone, for one thing,' he said. 'I mean, we've got these charms on the bed but...I dunno...it'd be weird, don't you think, having our first time in here when...when Harry and Susan are in the next bed?'

'We could die tomorrow,' she said, touching his chin.

'That's not a reason to rush this,' he heard himself say. 'I...I don't think you're ready, Hermione, and...and if we did it before you were ready you'd regret it and...and I'd hate that and I'd hate myself. We can't take it back once it's done.'

Even as he said it, a small part of him was kicking himself mentally. He knew it was the right thing to do but he was still in a bit of pain down there and sometimes that pain had a tendency to linger. Why did being noble have to be so uncomfortable?

She looked at him for a long time. He felt naked in her gaze, and not simply because he was only half dressed. The wheels in her mind were turning and she was thinking.

'You're right,' she said finally. 'You're right. We shouldn't.'

He let out a breath, mostly of relief. 'Good,' he heard himself say, and he lay back on the pillows and tried to concentrate on ridding himself of his little, or not so little, problem. He pulled the blankets over him to hide things. She pulled on her pyjama top and snuggled up to him; it didn't help his problem much, but lying here now, in the aftermath of everything, he found himself starting to drift off...

'Ron,' he heard her whisper. He groaned inwardly. He'd nearly been asleep. His eyes fluttered and opened half-way.

'Uh, yeah?' he murmured.

'I want to do something,' she said. 'I'm just...not sure I can.'

He had no idea what she was talking about. He was half asleep. But he had to ask. Knowing her she was going to get up early and raid the library to find a book of spells in the hopes of helping Harry.

'What's that, love?' he said sleepily. Whatever it is, make it quick. I'm knackered. He closed his eyes.

'You'll see,' she said, and he heard the bed squeak slightly as she shifted, and very soon he was wide awake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, he was sleepy again, but it was totally different. It wasn't sleepiness borne of exhaustion but of something else entirely. Awe? Reverence? He wasn't quite sure.

'Wow,' he said, staring up at the ceiling. 'That was...wow.'

'It...it was okay?' said Hermione, sounding anxious.

'Way, way better than okay,' said Ron, grinning and blinking. He turned to face her. 'Wh-where did you learn how to do that?'

'A book,' she said, shrugging, but she was clearly trying not to smile.

'There are books about that?' said Ron incredulously.

'There are books about everything, Ron,' said Hermione primly. 'Which you'd know if you ever opened one.'

'I definitely will now,' said Ron, and he grinned. 'Useful things, books.'

'I keep trying to tell you that,' she said.

He turned on his side, and was serious now. He was overcome by everything, by what had just happened, by what they'd survived today, and everything they'd been through since they met. He looked at her and realized that he had forgotten what it felt like not to know her.

She looked at him and bit her lip.

'What?' she said.

He moved closer to her and brushed her curls from her face.

'I love you,' he said. He hadn't said it to her since that day before Christmas, when they were standing on the staircase, when everything had changed for them. The words seemed so inadequate. But he meant them.

'You're not just saying that because I--' she began.

'Shut it,' he said, putting a finger to her lips. 'Don't be thick.'

She smiled, and threaded her hand in his.

'I love you, too,' she whispered.

They slept.