Love is Strong

Chapter 5 - Cream cakes and candy

From last time: - And with a faint sigh, Ronald Weasley, best friend to The Boy Who Lived, brother, boyfriend, and bravest Gryffindor, died.

Hermione woke, to a red sunrise. She stirred, finding herself uncomfortable on grass. But what was this? She was still outside Malfoy Mansion, and where was Harry and Ron? She groaned, and rose slowly to her feet. Looking round, she saw two broomsticks, splayed on the ground, as if thrown away, blood, and Ron.

“Oh, God. No.” She checked his pulse, only to find it was absent, and his injuries had been too severe, even though she or Harry could have repaired them with time. She waved her wand to rid Ron of the horrid lacerations running up and down his dead body, if not to help him, to help her cope. Now he just looked like he was sleeping, as she dragged him into a better, more normal position. Where was Harry?

A strangled sob came to ears. There he was, curled up, as if the whole world was against him. And she knew why. For years, before Hogwarts, Harry had no one. Then Ron came along, on the first day and recognised him for someone, not something, like the Dursleys had. She understood.

“Oh, Harry.”

He looked up at her, his face stained with tears. “It was my fault. He shouldn’t have come.”

“Harry,” Hermione said gently. “It wasn’t your fault, he chose to come. He knew the risk. How long is it before he, he…?”

“Roughly three hours.”

“Good,” said Hermione, brightening. “There’s still hope. Come.” She led him to Ron’s corpse. “Remember Professor Lupin’s lesson on necromancers? Well, they did tests, in secret, so no one found out unless you’d had it done, but then they cast a Memory Charm on the people who failed the test. They never reached you or Ron anyway. They found the necromancer.”

“Hang on,” said Harry, raising a hand. “So now on top of you studying to become an Animagi, being a fantastic and know-all witch, you’re now a necromancer?”

“Yep, it fits you see. Crozier was my grandmother’s name before she married, but I didn’t know. My mother did, and I owled her straight after I found out. Anyway I been having training, what with You-Know-Who on the loose again, and I believe I can restore Ron to his happy self.”

“Pardon?”

“Raise him from the dead, you idiot!” Hermione raised her hand. “Il est mort. Son élévation d'âme vers le haut!” A golden aura surrounded her, making her hair fly out in all directions, as if she was facing a violent hurricane. It made her more beautiful, and more witch-like than ever. “L'aigle de la vie, surmontent la colombe de la mort. Le retour d'esprit au corps, le font vivent encore. Deviennent on, deviennent entier. Respirez.”

The aura surrounding her flowed into Ron, briefly taking the form of a flying eagle as it soared into his body. Harry watched, amazed, as Hermione laid a hand on Ron’s chest, willing him to breathe. A red shimmer of sparks poured into Ron’s body, out of Hermione’s. Static fizzled and cracked between them.

And Ron breathed.

Hermione collapsed, exhausted, against a tree. “Il est fait,” she gasped, finishing the incantation. “You can wake him now, Harry.”

“Enervate.” Harry tiredly waved his wand.

Ron stirred and sat up. “What the hell are you two playing at? I’d thought you’d have both buggered off by now, but no, you just had to rescue me!”

“Ron!” Hermione shrieked, grabbing both boys in a crushing bear hug.

“Don’t tell me you’re not glad you’re back,” gasped Harry, out of breath from Hermione’s hug.

“So what did I miss?” Ron grinned to Harry from behind Hermione’s shoulder. “Apart from Herm showing she’s the necromancer of the year?”

When Hermione had finally finished hugging them, they sat on their broomsticks, Harry and Hermione sharing.

“Ron come here,” said Hermione, half way home.

“Hmm?”

She kissed him on the cheek. He blushed, and said; “I’ll die any day for another one of them.”

“Those, Ron. It’s those. And no, you’re not dying again. Next time I won’t bother. Boys!”

“Do I get one?” Harry wondered.

“No! You’re driving. It knock you off your broom.”

“It didn’t Ron.”

“Oh, go on then.”

About ten minutes later they resumed flying home, with Harry remarking; “You were right, I almost did fall of my broom.”

“Hmph!” muttered Ron.

“Hey, what about Eloise? You seemed pretty happy in the rosebush!” remarked Harry.

“How the…? I don’t wanna know!” Hermione said, raising her eyes to heaven. “Boys!”

Their laughter, as they sped off back to Hogwarts, was enough to make anyone including themselves happy, and for them to realise no matter what, love is strong…