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I Surrender by rj_sunshine
Chapter 14 : Hermione: Among The Daisies
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 3


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*15th March 2000

Numb it out, I tell myself. Numb it out, Hermione.
No matter how much I try to make the last week erase itself, the same sad reality springs into life.

He was gone.

Dead.

I didn’t want to, I refused to believe it at the time.

Every time I close my eyes, I remember:


   The party had ended at around four in the morning. The guests had begun to leave at around one, music still blaring out loudly. Ever since Draco had made his appearance, Ronald wasn’t in a good mood. He tried to get on with things, chatting to friends and dancing with me, but I could see in his eyes that he was distracted. Why would he not be? Draco had used an Unforgivable on him and I felt it was all my fault.

  And so we spent most of the party in silence; I could see his mind going like clockwork trying to figure Draco out, but I left him to it while I talked to Luna and Ginny.

  Ginny looked irritable too. When she got me alone, she told me that Harry was asking her lots of questions.

“You should have told him,” I said to her miserably.

“What?”

“This is such a mess. I feel like this whole thing would be sorted once the truth is out. I can’t lie any more.” I held my head in my hands.

“Are you saying that you’re going to tell Ron?” Ginny asked, shocked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know …”
 
“This would kill him, Hermione. He loves you.”

“And I love him too. Why else do think I’d do it? He deserves the truth.”

  Ginny sighed. “He does … Just think about this, Hermione.”
 
“I thought you were all in favour of the truth?” I asked.

“I am,” she replied. “It’s just that Ron is so happy right now. You’re engaged, you’ve got plans to move out …”

  Nodding lightly, I muttered, “I just don’t know what to do any more …”

“Don’t act too soon,” Ginny advised as Harry came over to us in the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked me over the music. I nodded. “Want another drink?” I shook my head. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looked like Malfoy shook you up.”
 
“I’m fine, Harry. I’ll be okay, stop fussing.”

“Fussing? He made you cry.”

“What?” Ginny asked. “What happened?”

“Nothing -”
 
“Malfoy followed her upstairs to the bathroom and when I came in he was grabbing her and she was in tears.”

“It wasn’t nearly as dramatic,” I told Ginny.

“What are you talking about? You looked terrified!” Harry said, confused.

“I could have handled it,” I shot back.

“Yeah, you looked like you could handle it,” Harry said sarcastically.
 
“Harry,” Ginny warned.

  Sighing, he said, “I’m sorry Hermione. I just don’t see why you’re defending him.”
 
“I’m not,” I replied heatedly. “It’s just that I’d rather not make a big deal of it. He’s gone now. We can forget all about it.”

“Fine,” Harry said, clearly not in the mood to hear me act as though I wasn’t bothered about Draco. “Do you want to dance?” he asked Ginny. She accepted and they left me in the kitchen until Ron came to join me.

   As soon as he did, I slid through a small crowd of people and said, “Are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine, Hermione, seriously. He barely touched me.” My gaze fell to the ground as I thought about the Curse and he lifted my chin with a soft finger. Slowly, he kissed my lips. “Do you believe me now?”

  Smiling, I said, “No.”

“Well, you should.”
 
“Don’t you think we should tell everybody to go home now?” I tried.

“No, there’s not many people left. They’ll be gone soon.”

   For the rest of the evening, I sat around listening to the latest Weird Sisters song while the guests slowly filtered out, wishing Ron their best. By that time, the sun was about to rise over the hills. Mr and Mrs Weasley would be back that afternoon and the place looked like a bomb had hit it. There was plastic cups everywhere (on the ground, on the bookshelves, on every surface), cake squashed into the carpet, broken glasses, stained furniture and a broken chair. I would have to do some serious cleaning in the morning and even though it would take the flick of a wand, we all decided to retire to bed and tackle the after-effects of the party after a sleep.

   Harry took Ginny to bed almost straight away and I did not even want to think about what they were doing, so I took Ron’s hand and let him lead me to his room at the top of the house.

   After pulling my dress over my head, I fell into bed beside Ron in my underwear. He too had undressed slightly. We began to kiss one another, but we were just too tired to get into it. Eventually we stopped and Ron held me around my waist with his chin over my shoulder as I laid on my side.

   I closed my eyes, almost falling to sleep.

“Did you have a nice night?” I whispered to him after a yawn.

“‘Spose,” he muttered. “Got some really cool gifts. Mostly Quidditch stuff from Harry, Dean and Seamus. And the books from you of course.”

   I smiled. “I do think ‘A Guide to British Muggles’, ‘Making it in The Muggle World’ and ‘The Big Book of Muggles: Encyclopaedia’ will help a lot when we’re married.”
 
“I’ll have you,” Ron said smartly. “Why do I need the books?”

“As much as I appreciate that, I won’t be in the Wizarding World 24/7. I will find my parents, visit them often, get my driving licence … It’s part of who I am. I was just a girl before Hogwarts.”

   He kissed my cheek. “I’ll read them. You can even test me at the end of the week.”

“You don’t have a very good track record for exams so I’ll pass,” I said with a giggle.

  My eyes fell a little bit lower.

“Are you excited?” Ron asked me.

“About?”

“Us.”
 
  I nodded. “I’m ready to be Mrs Ronald Weasley.”

“Wow … Hermione Weasley …” he said slowly. “That sounds weird.”
 
“I know. I just keep thinking back to when we met on the train …”

“And all of the arguments. Feels like just yesterday,” he said.

“Only difference is we’ve grown up,” I said. “If it wasn’t for Harry, I don’t know if we would have stayed together. I used to get so angry at you.” I shrugged. “I suppose that’s what a crush does to you.”

“Do you think we’ll ever have children?”

  My heart thumped against my chest like a drum as I rolled over to face him. “Do you want to?” I asked, excited.

“Erm … I think so … I mean, do you?”

“Of course!” I said, giving him a kiss. “I mean, maybe after I find my feet and get a career or at least a job, but definitely, yeah …” I was rambling through my excitement..

“Cool,” Ron said with a yawn.

   I stared up at his face, at his ginger eyelashes as he rested. I was really so lucky to have him.

“I love you,” I told him.

“Love you too,” he whispered, half-asleep.

   Smiling, I snuggled closer into his arms.

    I awoke in an hour to find Ron peering over one of the one-thousand page books I had bought him.

“What are you doing?” I said while wiping my eyes.

“Reading,” he held up the book. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  I sat by his side as he completed the first book and moved onto the second.

“Making it in The Muggle World by Hugo Praddle,” he said as he opened it. Despite my expectations, he was actually a fast reader. I sat beside him, smiling as he commented on the little things that made up my world, the little things which he found pleasure in learning (for example, the internet, the Royal Mail postal service, passports).

“I am happy that you’re reading, but … please, come back to bed. You look exhausted,” I told him.

“I could sleep for hours,” he admitted grimly.
 
“So come on then,” I said as I laid back down.

  Ron crawled over to me and kissed me. Then he got back up and headed to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I think I need a walk.”
 
“Now?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Then I’ll probably tidy up before Mum and Dad get back and then make you some breakfast - not burnt this time.”

“I’d like that,” I said.

  Ron pulled on a pair of trousers and a jacket. “See you later.”

“Bye,” I called.

   He closed the door, but when he was on the staircase, he called back, “Will toast do?”

“Toast is fine, Ron,” I hollered.

  Burying myself in the duvet, I fell back to sleep thinking of him and my breakfast.

    There was a knock on the door and just as I covered up my naked skin, Harry bound into the room in his pyjamas, hair askew, glasses missing.

“Yes, Harry?” I said, making sure he knew how annoyed I was with him barging in like this.

“Where’s Ron?” he said, confused.

“Well, he’s not here. He went for a walk and then he said he was coming back to make breakfast. Why?”

“I was just going to ask him something.”
 
“At this time?”

“Hermione, it’s nearly three in the afternoon.”
 
“What? Mr and Mrs Weasley will be back in two hours!” I jumped out of bed - at which Harry turned away because I was in my underwear - and threw on a blue satin dressing gown. “Did you only just wake up?”

  Harry nodded. “Would have been up earlier if Ginny hadn’t -”
 
   Holding my hands up, I said, “I don’t want to know.”

  Harry laughed. “I’ll see you downstairs in a few minutes. Need to ask Ron about something for the wedding.”

“And you can’t discuss that with me?” I asked, smiling.

“No, I can’t,” he said. “Secret.”

“Okay,” I said as I ushered him out of the room and closed the door behind me. “Want some tea for when you come down?”
 
“No, but Ginny will want one. No sugar. A little milk. She’s exhausted after we -”

“Harry! I said I didn’t want to know what you two get up to in the night!”

   Doubling over with laughter, Harry said, “I wasn’t even going to go there, Hermione.”

“You just love seeing me squirm?”

“Always.” Harry went down the stairs and into Ginny’s room as I carried on down to the kitchen.

   The place was still a mess, but this time I looked upon the scene with fresh eyes and really noticed the damage. Ash from the fireplace and Floo Powder was all over the floor, the chairs were all rearranged and upended and there was more food than I remember on the floor.

   Weaving through the mess, I trod barefoot through the house to the stove, where nothing was cooking. Ron mustn’t have come back from his walk because there was no food out for preparation, no kettle brewing, nothing.

  I stepped into the warm breeze in the garden.

“Ron!” I called. “Ron!” I walked around to the chicken hutches around the front. “Ron, I really don’t want to make breakfast,” I said with a laugh. “Ron …!”

   It was really irritating that he had gone off like this without telling me. “Ron? Ron, seriously, if you’re trying to annoy me, then well done, you succeeded … this isn’t funny any more …”

   Instantly, I felt bad. I forgot that Ron sometimes went to Fred’s grave alone. I went back to the house and went around by the flowerbeds leading to the back of the house. I began talking to myself. “I don’t know why I’m being so selfish and -”

   If ever there was a moment in time that I thought I was going to die - and I mean really going to fall over, collapse and heart ceasing to beat - this was that time. There, laying blissfully among the blooming spring daisies, eyes open slightly, lay my fiancé, white as a sheet, like an angel, arms wide and welcoming to the morning air.

   I fell to my knees, saying his name over and over as my eyes filled with glassy tears, falling over my cheeks, as my body shook with an irreverent pain, as my warm fingertips touched his still warm skin.

“Ron …” I croaked, barely above a whisper. “Ron … no …”

   I screamed, I don’t know how loud, but it hit the air with fervour. And even while I laid over him, I refused to believe that my best friend and fiancé was dead.

   I didn’t notice how long it took for Harry and Ginny to get there. All I remember is Harry falling to his knees beside me, crying hysterically. Ginny fell to the grass and cried to her knees as she held herself tight. Eventually, she crawled beside us, face wetter than mine; I couldn’t imagine what it was like for her. She knew Ron her whole life.

   I could barely see as Ginny held her brother’s hand and squeezed it.

“Come on, Ron,” she blubbered lightly. “Wake up for me. Wake up …”

   The three of us cried some more when nothing happened. He still lay in the same place, gazing up at the sky with unseeing eyes.

“H-How … how …?” Harry tried to speak, but like me, his voice seemed to lose its function. His entire face was red and so I leaned over to him and hugged him. I held him tight and cried. After a moment, Ginny joined our circle and we three gripped onto each other and shook sadly as the tears kept flowing for Ron.

   And so we stayed until Mr and Mrs Weasley found us in the garden two hours later.


    It’s been over a week now and I still don’t know what to do with myself. Most days I would tuck myself in his bed, in his clothes and imagine that he was here, smelling his scent everywhere I went. Instantly, I would be transported back to the last time we kissed, to the last time we spoke or touched, but each time, I seemed to forget a little bit more. I suppose I did take Ron for granted. I forgot that any day he could be taken away from me and forgot to drink in every moment with him. I mean, the last thing we talked about was toast!

   No one could possibly even try to imagine the guilt that I harboured. I should have never cheated, I should have never strayed away and taken my attention elsewhere. I wished that the time I spent with him could be erased and that I could have spent that time in Ron’s arms instead of the enemy.

   Mr and Mrs Weasley were beyond upset when they got home. Mr Weasley was in tears instantly and held onto his daughter as she wept in his arms. Mrs Weasley, on the other hand, looked more angry than grief-stricken. She stormed into the messy house, tears forgotten. Later on, Mr Weasley went inside to find that she had collapsed in the kitchen. She eventually came around in a few minutes and within the next hour the rest of the family had arrived and Ron had been moved into the house.

   I literally shook for hours and even refused to pass him as his body laid in the living room. I stayed sat in the doorway facing outside as everybody turned up.

   First came Percy, straight in from the Ministry - another Weasley in tears. It was like Fred dying all over again, only worse. And then George arrived. He looked so upset that I gave him a hug as he approached me by the door. He looked distraught; it was hard enough to lose a twin, but to lose your baby brother as well and all in the space of a couple of years? George refused to stay the night and went back to his flat to Angelina and baby Fred, promising to return the next day to see his parents. Bill and Fleur (seven months pregnant with a girl) arrived next, looking gaunt. Bill sat seething with anger while Fleur cuddled her mother-in-law by the fireside. Charlie arrived by Floo Powder seconds later, his knees going weak as he saw his family crowded around Ron.

“What happened?” he had asked that day.

   Harry tried his best to relay that we found him that way so that they would not ask me questions - I could not take it. And that was when Bill said what was on my mind:

“This was no accident.”
 
“Bill!” Fleur muttered.

“No, Fleur, listen to me. It looks like the Killing Curse. Nothing else.”

   Mrs Weasley sobbed into Fleur’s shoulder and Ginny ran from the room with tears streaming down her face. Harry went after her immediately.

   Nothing more was said to what Bill proposed. Funeral arrangements were made and as Percy volunteered to Owl all of our friends the bad news, Charlie decided to tell the Prophet. No matter how much Mrs Weasley protested, it only made sense. We were telling people and we thought it would be better that we told the public rather than someone else who spun lies within the tale. And so, Ronald’s death was in the papers and all over the radio only two nights after it happened. Charlie was brief and succinct when sharing the news, begging for privacy. And oddly enough, we were listened to. To this day, there hasn’t been a single flashbulb in my line of sight. I didn’t know why the press were being caring for once. And I didn’t care in the slightest.

   I sat in our room - Ron’s and mine - gazing at the sun as it rose. I hadn’t really slept since - just a few hours here and there - and I barely ate. Mrs Weasley didn’t even try to force us and Mr Weasley tried to take over making meals with the help of Fleur and Angelina when they came round. My stomach being empty didn’t even compared to the massive hole Ron had left in my life. My bare wedding ring finger upset me; there was no mark, no evidence that we were destined for one another. All I had was fond memories, a few photos, but did they really matter?

   There was a tap on the door.

  Ginny stepped in wearing a black top and trousers, tissues bundled within her fist.

“Time to go,” she croaked, eyes red.

  I shook my head. “I can’t.”

“Hermione …”

  I cried again. “I can’t say goodbye to him, Ginny.”

   She sat down beside me. I hadn’t even put on the black dress I had chosen that laid on the bed beside me. I simply sat in Ron’s grey pyjamas sadly.

“I - I know this is …” Ginny sniffed. “ … this is hard … for everyone … but you’ve got to face this,” she said, tears stinging her blue eyes.

  I didn’t want to face it.

“I want to marry Ron,” I moaned, “not b-bury him.”

   We both exploded into tears at this, holding one another, because our lives depended on it.

“I know, h-honey … I know,” Ginny forced out. “B-but we d-don’t h-have a ch-choice.”

   Literally shaking, I let Ginny help me into my dress and tie my hair back. I bypassed the mirror on the wall, thinking I must have looked a mess, and slid my feet into my black flat shoes. Outside the window, I noticed the guests arriving in the field by the house, where Ron would be buried next to Fred.

“I can’t do this …” I swept past Ginny and ran to the bathroom, falling onto my knees and throwing up into the toilet.

“Hermione,” Harry’s voice said softly from behind me.

   I turned to my best friend honestly at a loss as to what to say. He was dressed in a black suit, his black hair a mess with trademark red eyes, a feature I would see a lot today.

“Harry,” I fell into his arms, sobbing erratically. “I-I’m a mess.”

“No,” he whispered as he stroked my hair. “No,” he said again. I knew he didn’t know how to console me or himself and so I didn’t ask anything of him as he walked me back to the attic.

“It’ll all be over soon,” he told me. “And then we can grieve for Ron in our own time.” I did nothing. “Ready?”

   Looking around, I decided to go through Ron’s drawers and find a black shirt. I pulled it over my skin and buttoned it up, the sleeves too long for my arms, the entire thing smelling of him.

   Harry held out his hands; I took one and Ginny took the other.

   It began to rain lightly as we went into the yard. The morning dew settled around us as the crowds gathered. I saw Luna, her father, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Lee, Ernie, Justin, Susan, Lavender, Parvati, Padma, Blaise, Michael, Cho, Oliver, Katie, Alicia, most bringing a family member or two, plenty of students I knew and didn’t know as well as Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, Professor Slughorn, Madam Pomfrey, Professor Hooch and nearly every other teacher at school cluttered in the many rows of white chairs lined on the grass. There was also Evie, Mr Robards and other colleagues of Harry’s, Ron’s and mine from the Ministry. There was quite a lot of people I did not know, but chose to ignore them as Harry led Ginny and I to the front beside the rest of the family. George looked terrible as he sat beside Angelina. He held Fred close to him as his son goo’ed and gaa’ed innocently in tiny black dress robes. Percy was sat beside Audrey, fingers linked, Mrs Weasley sat with her husband’s arms around her, Bill sat with Fleur, Ginny had Harry. I couldn’t help but feel alone. Even Charlie had brought a certain female friend named Ellie with him. The other half of me was in a wooden box at the front of the humungous crowd, taking my heart with him.

   And so it began. Kingsley led the service with a few lovely words about who Ron was. He blathered on about how he was kind, a good friend, son, brother, fiancé. Of course he mentioned the whole Voldemort thing. But Ron was so much more than that. No words could describe what Ron meant to us, his family. Beside me, Harry cried onto Ginny’s shoulder; for once she was the one holding him tight and whispering comforting words into his ear.

   I reached over and squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

   Mrs Weasley was supposed to say something next, but she could barely stand let alone talk. Instead, George handed Fred to Angelina and stood at the front of the guests looking terrible.

“Erm … well, I don’t really know what to say.” He looked down at his hands. “Well, first of all I’d like to thank you all for coming.” People around me nodded sadly. Lavender was in tears and so were Dean, Seamus and Neville. It broke my heart to see them like that. “We’re apparently here to celebrate Ron’s life,” he continued morosely and bitterly, “but right now I’m finding it pretty damn hard to focus on his past when he was robbed of his future. Yes, he was great, we all know that. Ron was bloody hilarious … he was honest, not afraid to show his emotions …” Silent tears rolled down his face. “He should be here now, alive. None of us should be where we are, crying our eyes out like this … Ron would have been planning his wedding to his fiancée, Hermione. I’m sorry,” he said to me. He turned to his parents. “Mum, Dad, I know how much this has hurt you and I know the pain will never go away. I’m a parent now and I couldn’t imagine if anything happened to my child. Harry, you were his brother, just like you’re mine and he loved you a lot even though he probably never said. He didn’t really say it to any of us,” he said, referring to his siblings. “Bill, Charlie, he always looked up to you guys, being Head Boy and great Quidditch players. After Dad and Viktor Krum, you were his idols.” Behind me, people let out a brave chuckle; I had seen Viktor earlier sitting at the back. “And Percy, no matter how much he thought you were an over-eager self-absorbed idiot, he was so proud and happy when you came back ... As the baby in our family, Ginny, we all love you. He’s risked his life several times for you even though you say you can take care of yourself. When you get married and have kids with Harry - which we all know will happen - he’ll be looking down and be so proud of what you become … You know, it breaks my heart that two of my brothers are gone. We Weasleys have always been a large family, a clan. I mean, is this all we do in life? Just wait until we all go one by one? Because that is so unfair … He’ll never see my son grow up, or see Fleur have her daughter or any of the rest of us. He won’t be a father himself. Or a grandfather. I know we will all make sure that our children will know their uncle, love him and remember him as if he were still here. Life won’t be the same without Ron … but a part of me knows what was meant to be was meant to be. I just hope Fred looks after him.”

   At that, most people were all searching for tissue to wipe their eyes. George left the front, eyes glancing over Ron’s coffin. Angelina stood up with Fred in her arms and gave George a hug and a kiss as he dissolved into tears.

“You did great,” she whispered to him.

  George nodded and Fred began to cry between them.

“I’ll take him,” George said quietly. He held his wailing son as Angelina passed him their bulging baby bag. He left swiftly with it over his shoulder to tend to Fred, but I think he went off for a secret cry.

   Angelina sat down and blew her nose on a tissue as Luna came to the front in a bright blue dress and yellow shoes; as I expected, she was the most colourful guest.

“Hello, everyone,” she said. “Did you know that Ron was attacked by a brain once?” Everyone looked at each other strangely, but I couldn’t help but smile. “He also thought I was barking mad, but I was still so happy that I knew him …”
 
   She continued on in her strange way, making everyone smile without meaning to. George came back from inside the house with a bottle of milk safely in Fred’s mouth. He suckled on it quietly as George took his seat and soon after, Fred fell asleep in his father’s arms. He was so adorable, a few dark brown curls of hair on his soft light brown head. I noticed earlier that he had gorgeous green eyes, that same Weasley shape.

   I don’t remember much of the burial because I chose not to. I didn’t want to even watch as the last morsel of dirt was placed. The brown rectangular patch (near the daisies) that laid above him was covered in flowers and messages from the people who cared for him; I didn’t leave one - yet. It just seemed so final.

   As soon as it was over, I tried to get away.

“Hermione,” Harry called. “Stay for a while,” he said as he began to walk to Ron’s graveside.

“I can’t.”

   Turning away, I went into the house to get a glass of water before the masses came.

  Light food was being served inside the house for those who wished to stay for a few hours - as prepared by Fleur, Angelina and Audrey. While the sandwiches were being passed around, I sat in the corner of the living room staring at the empty fireplace; everyone avoided me upon sight.

   Even the Weasleys let me be and I was only disturbed when Blaise Zabini spotted me across the room. He looked very uncomfortable, so I decided to soften my hard expression.

“Hi,” he said. “Erm … I’m sorry about Ron.”

   I nodded.

“I’m still in shock,” he went on sadly. “I sent flowers, the erm - tulips - but if you need anything …”
 
“I’ll let you know,” I barely whispered. We both knew I needed nothing from him, but the sentiment was appreciated.

   He turned away, but after a moment of reconsideration, he came back to me and said, “Listen … Hermione … I just think I should tell you before anyone else does …”
 
“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I was in the Leaky Cauldron with Draco yesterday and he was arrested … for Ron’s murder …” My insides froze. There had been the thought in my mind … but every time, it would be pushed aside by doubt … he couldn’t have … “I know you hated him, but I’d like to say that I don’t think he did it.”
 
“I - I -”

“And I’d also like to tell you that I plan to represent him during the trial if it goes that far. I have nothing against you and your family here, Hermione, know that. But you’ve got to understand that he’s been my best friend for ten years almost.”

  Swallowing down the huge lump in my throat, I said, “I understand …” even though I don’t think I did.
 
“Again … I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine, I -”
 
“Miss Granger, how are you feeling? Lost? Angry?” An old wizard with a twirly grey moustache dressed in dark grey dress robes bombarded me as I sat on the chair looking up at Blaise. “What will the Weasleys do next?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Blaise asked him rudely.

“He’s Bernie Swattle,” I said, teeth grinding together. “Get - out,” I told him, tears accumulating in my eyes.

  I stood up.

  But Swattle would not relent. He continued. “Have you heard the news, Miss Granger? Someone’s been arrested and -”
 
“You heard her,” Blaise interrupted. “Leave.”

“ - it’s none other than your beau, Draco Malfoy. What do you say to this, Miss Granger?” People began to mutter around me. There was supposed to be no press here, yet somehow he had slithered his way in.

“Get - out,” I said again, this time with more venom.

“Miss Granger, when will investigations begin to find out what really happened to -?”

“Are you deaf, stupid or both, Mr Swattle?” I shot back angrily. “I did not invite you here. I don’t want to hear from you.”
 
“But, Miss Granger, I have done nothing but -”

   Before I could even think about it, I landed a very loud slap across his face and he stood stunned. At that Harry, Ginny and Charlie came through the small crowd.

“All you’ve done is ruin my life. So if you don’t mind, I want you to leave and I don’t ever want to see you write a single word about me and my family.”

   He had the audacity to look as though he had done nothing. “The wizarding world is on your side, Miss Granger, they just want to read -”
 
“Do you have any decency or - or morals?” Harry demanded of him. “This is a funeral. Ron was my best friend, like a brother to me. I couldn’t have ever accomplished what I have without him. So please stop harassing Hermione about this. Whatever happened to Ron, I will make it my mission to find out and I will find whoever did this. If you’re going to print something, print that; at least it’s the truth.”

   Wiping my eyes on the sleeve of Ron’s shirt, I watched as Blaise and Charlie ensured Swattle was escorted from the premises. Simultaneously, Percy and Bill went around to check that no one else had gotten in.

“Are you alright?” Ginny asked. I said nothing. “What did he say before?”

“He wanted to know how I felt.”

“Silly question,” Harry muttered.

“Not about this. About what Blaise told me seconds earlier. That Malfoy was arrested.”

   I did not have to say what for and Harry looked like he was about to blow a fuse. But he was sensitive and decided not to get angry here and now.

“I’m going to find Kingsley and see what I can find out.”

   Harry located Kingsley and went over as Ginny escorted me upstairs to Ron’s room. We sat down on the bed, mentally and physically tired. I buried myself in the bed sheets while Ginny sat staring at all of Ron’s things, at his bright orange Chudley Cannons posters and his clothes thrown about here and there.

  After a moment, she said, “Do you think he did it?”

Sighing, I said, “I don’t know, Ginny. And that scares me …”

 

A/N: Thanks for reading. I am so happy with how this is going. Hope you loved the chapter because I did. Let me know in the box below  :)


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