Endless Goodbyes

It's your first day at Hogwarts-you're very excited. You get up extra early, dress carefully and can't seem to eat any breakfast. I'm too nervous, you say. Your mother and father smile at each other; little Hermione all grown up.

Your father pulls your hair, which he knows you hate, and teases you. Grown-up, honey? You only just turned eleven. You indignantly tell him that eleven is a very grown-up age. In a few years you'll be a teenager.

You're simmering with anticipation the whole car ride, waiting for King's Cross Station to come into view. Once there, you jump out of the car, help your father-or rather, stand around looking at everyone-load your trunk onto a trolley, and walk to the barrier beside your mother. You're not quite sure how to get in, but a friendly wizard family helps you, and soon you're there.

Platform 9 and ¾. It's better than you imagined.

Well, the sound of the screaming, laughing, talking children isn't exactly music to your ears, but it's a reminder of the wonderful years ahead of you. You reverently gaze at the Hogwarts Express-a huge red gleaming train. Eagerly you persuade your father to put the trunk into a compartment-so I won't be rushing afterwards.

A whistle blows, startling you slightly. Children are suddenly packing into the train, a steady flow of them rushing in, trying to find an empty compartment. You lean out of the window and kiss your parents goodbye. Have a good time, honey, they say, waving as they disappear from sight just around the bend.

It's your first goodbye, to your parents and to your Muggleborn childhood. From now on, you're starting a life in magic.

*

You and Harry are trapped in between the black fire and the purple fire. You finally sigh with relief as you figure out which potions are needed. Got it, you say, the smallest bottle will get you through to the Stone. Harry asks which one gets you back through to the purple fire, and you point it out to him.

Harry tells you to drink that one and get to Ron and Dumbledore. His expression is a mixture of determination and desperation-as if he is pleading with you to help him, but knows it is impossible. You wish you could do something, if just to stop looking at that terrible helpless face. You feel scared-what if You-Know-Who's with him?

Harry says that he's been lucky once, maybe he'll be lucky again, and you suddenly feel so overwhelmed you rush over and give him a hug. Hermione! he exclaims, looking extremely embarrassed. You don't really remember much of what you told him, but from what you do recall you can remember telling him that he is a great wizard. Of course he is-he's Harry Potter, after all.

You gulp down the potion, and hesitate in front of the flaring purple fire. Good luck, take care, you say. What you really mean is please come back to us alive, because what would we do without you otherwise? He urges you to go, and so you do, with a last fleeting glimpse at his resolute face.

This is your second goodbye, to Harry for the first, deathly important time. It's the first time you fear that you will never see him again, with many other goodbyes like this to follow (although you don't know it yet). A highly significant moment.

*

It's what you are thinking now when it's time to say goodbye again, at the end of your fifth year. It's been a long and eventful year; you feel like you don't really know anyone anymore. An awful lot has changed. Harry has been smiling that blank smile for a time, Ron has become very quiet.

Yes, life has definitely changed.

After Harry leaves, Ron turns to you. You look up into those beautiful, clear blue eyes, and don't quite know what to say. Your feelings for this friend, wonderful, amazing but so confusing, are mixed up. You don't really know how to say anything to Ron that makes sense anymore-for the "smartest witch in your year", it sure is hard to string just one sentence together for him! Why was it so easy before?

You hope desperately that no-one is watching. All thoughts of Harry and the War and Voldemort and Sirius suddenly disappear.

A bright red flush is creeping up his neck and he retreats. He mumbles something about take care, have a good holiday and wanders back to the Weasleys. You leave with your parents, thinking about him again for what feels like the thousandth time. How can one boy do this to you? Infuriate you so much one moment you feel like strangling him, and then be so horribly sweet the next you feel like you want to kiss him til the cows come home?

It's your third important goodbye, to a lot of things. You are changed now-scarred, you would say, if it didn't remind you so much of Harry and that vague, blank smile. You'll miss Sirius very much, with all his dry wit and sarcasm and humour. You hope that you and Ron (you blush again just thinking about those words, and later reprimand yourself for thinking such thoughts concerning Sirius' death) can help Harry, although it certainly won't be easy.

Your third goodbye, to Sirius.

*

It's your wedding day. Ginny is your beautiful bridesmaid, Harry is the dashing best man, and you're about to marry the most wonderful man in your life.

Your mother almost cries when she sees "how beautiful and grown up you are", and you tease her about it; wasn't I already grown up at eleven? you joke. Your father smiles gently and tells you that you look beautiful as well; a particular groom around here will definitely think so, he says, eyes twinkling.

And then, before you have time to think or even to breathe, you're walking down that aisle so long-awaited, with admiring eyes cast upon you. Your heart is pounding like a drum, making you scared, but when you look into his eyes, his warm and oh-so-comforting smile and the encouraging expressions on everybody's faces, you know you're doing the right thing.

What was it Ginny had said before about the two of them? Meant to be-that was it. You can't help thinking so yourself when you reach the altar and turn to face him.

Do you, Hermione Jane Granger, take Ron Bilius Weasley to be your husband, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, til death do you part?

It's another goodbye, your fourth. Goodbye to your years of youth, goodbye to your freedom. You don't regret it a bit; if anything, you are wholly grateful.

*

Tears are streaming down your face like tiny rivers; you don't bother wiping them away.

You don't want to let go, ever.

We're going to win the War, Hermione, he says into your ear. We're going to win, and Harry is going to win, and we're going to buy a huge house and live there with our ten beautiful children.

He doesn't answer, and you look up into his face. He still doesn't say a thing, but kisses you hard, so hard you feel like you're drowning.

It's time, guys. Harry arrives and smiles at you. You run to hold him, so tight you feel his bones almost crack.

You make your way there, with all of them behind you, so supporting, so encouraging-Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Parvati, Lavender, Fred, George-too many others to count. It almost seems like this is just another old DA meeting-but it's not. This time it's the real thing.

I love you, he whispers, as his fingers leave yours. I'll see you in a while.

You can only nod, and watch him disappear into the fight as you turn to meet yours.

It's your fifth goodbye. You don't have words to describe how painfully important it is.

*

You think about him the whole time. The War drags on; for you, it seems to take a million years. You hex Death Eater after Death Eater, trying to avoid being cursed yourself.

There are lights everywhere, voices shouting, people dying. You try not to think about them. Only him, but then again, that hurts too.

You wonder if you will ever see your husband again.

*

It's over. Finally. It's dawn; golden rays of light fall through the trees.

You're running, running faster than you ever have before, bodies flashing before your eyes. If we've won ... I'll be here. It's Harry's voice, moments before it all began. I'll be waiting here.

You burst into the clearing and look around wildly. All you can see is bodies, bodies everywhere-

...and Harry, standing over a form on the ground in long black robes.

He smiles tiredly at you.

You're very scared, and run to help him, and suddenly there are Healers everywhere, the Ministry swarming around, loud cheering from their side. You try and help as many people as possible, but get more and more frightened as minutes pass.

Where is he?

When you finally find Charlie, wearily staggering towards you, you rush to him. Where's Ron? Is he alright? What happened to him? Is he ... You can't finish the sentence.

He smiles at you, and points towards a figure lying on a stretcher. He's fine, but-

You don't hear the rest of his sentence; at an instant, you're flying towards your husband. Ron? You say quietly, staring so hard at his closed eyes that your own begin to water. Ron? It's Hermione. Ron, please wake up.

And then ...

Those beautiful blue eyes open, and he's smiling at you. I was trying to sleep, in case you hadn't noticed, he says in a slightly hoarse voice.

You hold him so tightly that he makes a slight protesting sound. You had me worried, you silly fool! you say in a relieved voice.

He laughs. That was the point. Oh look, they're taking me to St. Mungo's. Don't worry, he adds to calm your anxious expression, they just want to check me over. He kisses you, and then they take him away. I'll see you soon, Hermione.

It's the end of your goodbyes-you're sick to death of them. You want some new beginnings now, and goodbyes won't bring you that.

A picture may be worth a thousand words, after all, but a million endless goodbyes will never be worth what one, precious, shining reunion can be.