In Continuation
THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS
Sorry the title is rubbish - and sorry the summary is, too. But some of you haven't finished yet - still. If you're a real fan, you should have read it by now. And, if not, let's face it - you shouldn't be up here reading stuff with spilers in it. Anyway, that's why I couldn't put much in the summary.
One reason, anyway. The other is the fact that I don't know exactly what this story is going to turn out to be. I know it's called 'In Continuation', and this means it carries on from the end of the book, NOT the epilogue. No idea how long it's going to go on for ... I might get carried away and end up detailing the whole nineteen years, but oh well. I'll start writing and see.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. You should know that by now.
The next few days were an endless blur. Harry could barely remember them when he looked back - there was a misty feeling of euphoria, lots of celebration mixed with mourning ... he spent the night in Gryffindor Tower, then Hogwarts closed to repair the damage done during the battle. And he was at The Burrow.
The night before Fred's funeral found Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny in the back garden. Everyone else was inside, although nobody was really saying anything. The four of them had not been alone together since the battle, yet it was almost silent. There were alternate periods of happiness and grief, and this was one of the latter.
Harry, sitting on a chair he'd managed to Summon from inside, yawned widely.
"You're tired," Ginny pointed out.
"I know," Harry replied, "I'm not the only one, though, am I?"
Ginny gave a weak smile, rubbing her bloodshot eyes.
"I suppose..." she stood up, "I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll see you three in the morning."
"Night," Harry muttered, "We won't be far behind you."
Ginny nodded and left in silence.
"I'd go with her, but I can't sleep at the moment," said Ron, with a heavy sigh, "I'm tired but when I want to sleep, my mind starts thinking of other things."
Hermione, who was sitting beside him, found his hand and squeezed it.
"Well, it's bound to," she said gently, "There are other things to think about, aren't there?"
Ron mumbled in agreement, his hand gripping hers tightly.
The door opened; George stepped outside, the evening breeze making him shiver.
"Hi," he attempted a smile, his teeth chattering, as he sat in Ginny's empty seat, "Are you all OK?"
There were mutters. George looked guilty, yet he had no reason to be: Harry could not imagine losing someone so close to him. Friends were different to identical twins.
"Hey - what's going on here?" George asked suddenly.
Harry looked up and followed George's eyeline. Ron and Hermione's hands were still in each others'. Nobody knew about them except Harry, so far. Hermione seemed as though she was considering letting Ron go, but it was too late. The damage was done.
"George, we were going to tell everyone in a few days' time," she began, "Don't you think-"
"It's fine, Hermione, really. There's other things on our minds right now." He winked, "I won't let on I know until you're ready. Mum's going to be so happy, Ron ..."
He, like Harry, yawned.
"I'm off to bed, I need sleep," he said, "You all do, by the looks of you."
"Yeah," Harry gave in to his senses and stood up, "Are you two staying here?"
Ron followed Harry's lead, and Hermione his.
"No, we're coming too," Ron said, "There's no point moping around."
They made their way up to Ron's room, Ron and Hermione dropping each others' hands before they went back inside.
Once in there, Hermione closed the door and cast 'Muffliato' under her breath.
"Aren't you going to bed?" Ron asked her.
"Not yet. I want to talk to you two for a bit ... I don't think I can settle down right this minute."
"All right ..." Harry lay down on his bed, "Hermione, I'm still listening to you, but I'm just going to rest my eyes for a bit, is that OK?"
She nodded, and Harry closed his eyes.
"See, I can still hear you. Someone say something and I'll reply."
He was trying desperately to lighten the mood. He knew it wouldn't help in the end, but a bit of short-term relief might make everyone feel better, even if it was only while they were together, awake. It would be a different story when they finally tried to sleep.
"I don't want to go to sleep," Hermione's voice said, as though it had been inside Harry's head, "It never happens anyway, why should I bother?"
"I'm sure after tomorrow, things'll get better. That's what funerals are for, really, aren't they?" Ron assured her, "Even so ... Fred's gone forever. I still can't get used to the idea."
"Poor George," Hermione sighed.
There was a sorrowful silence. Harry's breathing became slow and deep; soothing ... his breaths started to overcome his whole body and he let himself relax, concentrating solely on his breathing. In ... and out. It was mind-numbingly effective at relieving some of the tension and stress plaguing him: just something simple to do, that he had to do. He wasn't used to having an easy task.
Several minutes later, a hushed voice brought him back to his senses.
"Is he asleep?"
It was Ron.
Harry tried to say 'no', but he found he was, in fact, so close to sleep he didn't have the energy to move. Semi-conscious, he listened for further conversation.
"Yes, I think so," came Hermione's reply, "Why? Should we wake him up?"
"No ... no, leave him. He needs his sleep." Ron sounded nervous, almost scared, "Anyway, I think we need to talk."
"Talk ...? Wh-what about?"
"You know."
There was silence again. Harry suddenly wished he was asleep - he tried to open his eyes, but the lids seemed glued together. He gave up, no energy to fight.
"I know ...?" Hermione repeated, "Oh, Ron ..." she now sounded mildly amused, "There's nothing to talk about!"
"Nothing? What do you - you mean that - that you just -" Ron was evidently taken aback, even slightly upset, "It was nothing?"
Harry knew what 'it' was.
Hermione really was laughing now, "I thought you'd changed, Ron! You know, grown up a bit! After what you said about the house elves ... there's nothing to talk about ... I meant that I thought we'd reached an understanding. That nothing needed to be said, not that there was nothing to be said at all ..."
"Oh, I see," Ron's voice showed dawning comprehension. Harry could picture him smiling.
More silence. This time, it didn't sound as tense. In fact, it was more like a comfortable silence. A 'nothing needed to be said' silence. He felt guilty simply for being there - if they had been lying next to him and Ginny while they talked something important through, he would have been extremely uncomfortable.
A couple of minutes later, a soft, wet noise jerked him awake again. The same kind of noise made by a kissing couple who had just broken apart.
"So it's official, then?" Ron said, and Harry knew he was grinning, "You and me -"
"I thought it was official the first tiem," came Hermione's reply, "That was my intention, anyway ..."
"Really? I thought it was more like 'I'm about to die, so I'll get my last snog off the next person I see. Oh, there's Ron'."
"Of course not."
"In that case there's something I want to know," said Ron, "Why exactly did you kiss me at that moment? It seemed a bit - you know, random ..."
"And sort of inappropriate, I know," Hermione admitted, "But like you said, it was then or never. I just - well, when you said about the house-elves something hit me. It was like a catalyst, and the next thing I knew I was kissing you. I think I realised you weren't a stupid little boy any more."
"Come on, Hermione, I know there was more to it than that."
"Well, you're right, there is ... but, generally, you take it as a given when someone kisses you."
"What's that then?"
"Feelings. For you."
"So - you kissed me during a war because one, we didn't know we were going to survive; two, you thought I was mature; and three, you fancied me?"
"In a nutshell, yes," Hermione sounded tired, exasperated, but relieved, "But - Ron, there's so much more important -"
"Not right now, there isn't," Ron said quietly, "There's no one else here talking about other things. And - well, sometimes, Hermione, you need a distraction. You get stuff in life which is difficult, really difficult, but you need to work through it, even if it's because you have no choice. But ... you know, at other times, it's OK to do something else that takes your mind off it. Just for a little bit - 'cos I'm going to be thinking about it tomorrow, aren't I? That's when I'll come to terms with it, and that's when I'll get upset. Right now, though, all I want to do is think about something else. Something nice."
Hermione clearly didn't know what to say. Harry, now engrossed, listened intently. Ron broke the silence.
"I've been wondering why it took house-elves to get you to snog me, anyway?"
They both laughed.
"I think it showed a change in you, like I said. Mind you, I had been hinting for ages. I didn't want to bring it up directly in case you didn't want to talk about it, but - well, you'd been acting really - really weird for a while, and I was pretty sure it was because you liked me, but - " she sighed, "I suppose it was, wasn't it? Oh, Ron, we could've done this so much sooner ..."
"I dunno for sure, but I think I started to sort of think about you in that way in fourth year," Ron told her, "It wasn't really a big thing, though ... until it got bigger. It was kind of hard to admit to myself that I fancied my friend Hermione, let alone to anyone else -"
"Don't worry, Ron. I was exactly the same."
Yet more silence. Harry noted the slight tension, the awkwardness. He also understood it - their relationship had always been a complicated one, and now they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other there was an awful lot that they needed to explain to each other, not all of it happy.
"So - Lavender -?"
It was Hermione's voice bringing up the subject Harry had been expecting, but dreading, to hear. Ron, however, handled himself surprisingly well.
"She was a mistake," he said, "Because I was an idiot. Hermione, I'm so sorry. Ginny told me you'd kissed Krum and I just went mental. I needed to prove to her that I could get snogged, too ..."
He broke off, as if he had decided against saying something else. Hermione seemed to understand.
"And you also wanted to make me feel bad?"
Harry could only presume that Ron nodded.
"Oh, Ron ..."
"I'm sorry, I really am ... I suppose I was starting to realise how much I liked you, and that you sort of liked me - but that's no excuse," he added quickly, "If I'd just had the guts to tell you how I felt, to talk to you -"
"We're together now," Hermione interrupted him, "You said it yourself, sometimes there are things you don't have to think about."
Harry could imagine Ron - smiling weakly, shame etched across his face despite his relief.
"Do you remember that year - sixth year ... our first Potions lesson with Professor Slughorn?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Yeah. With the Felix Felicis?"
"And the Amortentia. The most powerful love potion in the world." Hermione gave a tiny laugh - it sounded a lot like a sniff, "Guess what else I could smell in it?"
"You mean apart from grass and parchment?"
Harry, wanting to know despite himself, listened intently. He was wide awake now - he knew, however, that it was too late to reveal himself; plus the moment sounded too personal. It was between Ron and Hermione, and if he had to feign sleep to keep it (what they thought was) that way, he would stay lying still on the bed as long as he had to. He owed it to them, after all.
Ron, evidently, had not guessed. Opening his eyes slightly, so he was barely squinting, Harry was just in time to see Hermione whisper, in a voice barely audible even in the deathly quiet, the words 'your hair'.
There seemed to be an understanding between them in those words, for they both leant forward and kissed again - this time planned, 'privately', without the threat of Harry to break it up.
For a moment Harry watched. Then, when they slid their arms around each other to pull each other closer, he shut his eyes again, trying not to smile.
It sounded very strange to say inside his head: Ron and Hermione are together.
He thought longingly of Ginny as he waited for his friends to finish what they were doing. He had not been alone with her for ages, making him just a little bit jealous of Ron and Hermione - they had private time so soon. If only Harry had been as close to Ginny as Ron had been to Hermione before they became a couple; that way he'd see her all the time.
Eventually, he heard Ron muttering again and strained his ears.
"Is this the right time to mention my book?"
"That all depends on what kind of book it is," Hermione replied.
"Don't laugh at me," Ron started, "But Fred and George -" he stopped suddenly, his voice breaking; Hermione whispered soothingly to him and he was soon ready to carry on, "Anyway, they gave me this book, with loads of stuff on how to get girls to like you. You noticed me acting weirdly - that was all the book."
"It was a very good book then, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," Ron half-laughed, "Fred was wiser than I thought."
"Oh - Ron, come here ..."
Harry tried to distract himself for a moment until Ron spoke properly again.
"We'll tell everyone before you go. Not tomorrow."
"Yes - yes, that's fine." The bed creaked as Hermione stood up, "I'll see you in the morning, Ron."
"Yeah - night, Hermione."
Harry heard her walk across the floor - the door opened, then closed.
Ron gave a long sigh. Harry could read it like a book. Ron had just about sorted things out with Hermione for the better, and in two days' time, she was leaving for Australia. It was only for a few days at the most, so she could undo the memory modification she had put on her parents - but, for those few days, Hermione would be gone.
What did you think? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm sure that's the longest intro - or any - chapter I've ever written. Been working on this for a while now. It may as well have been Hermione or Ron's POV, but that's not fitting in with the books really, is it? Plus I'm not too keen on writing like that. I try to keep with JK's style to make my fics as believable as possible. Just remember, that's all they are - fanfiction! Please review!