Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended
Summary: Following on from the other monologues, this one is from Harry's perspective, seven years after his death.
I've been dead for seven years.
Well, my body has been dead for seven years. My soul is still as strong as it ever was; your soul doesn't die when your body does. Your body is merely a carrier, a receptacle until it's time for the next phase.
It takes a bit of getting used to, being here. I'm not quite sure where here is, exactly. I guess it's Heaven. Time doesn't pass here as it does on earth. I felt like I'd only been here days when I was first allowed to look back down at my loved ones, and it had been seven months, because my Hermione was in labour with our child.
Our child. Our daughter. The baby we'd cherished and longed for. I watched as my Hermione pushed her out, Ron by her side, where he would remain. Where he will remain until she leaves him to join me. Yes, I know how long I'll be waiting for her. She will be here before him, but he will join us soon after.
I wasn't allowed to look at Hermione for a little while, because I needed to adjust to what happened to me. I went through all the normal stages of grieving; anger, sadness, depression. I would give anything to be able to go back to her and our child, but I know that's not how it works. I can choose to go back in some form later, but I'd rather wait for her. She'll come back to me. I'll get to see her again.
I thank my lucky stars for Ron. Hermione would never have coped without him. He made sure she looked after herself and our daughter. He held my Hermione while she cried, and raised my daughter as if she was his own. I wish I'd been able to tell him how much I loved him, how much I truly valued him as my best friend and how thankful I was that he didn't treat me like everyone else did when I started school. To him, I was just Harry. Sure, he had his moments, but I was always his best friend first and foremost.
He spoke to me the other day. I hear him when he talks to me; I hear them both. He asked me for my permission to marry my wife. I can't express how touched I was that he would ask; it's not as if I can say no. I wouldn't want to; he's the one man who's been able to make my Hermione smile again. I couldn't ask for anyone better than him to take care of my wife.
She's not my wife anymore, not on earth. As of yesterday, she is Mrs. Ron Weasley. Part of me wants to be desperately upset, but I'm not. I still miss her, and sometimes I'm still angry that the opportunity to live my life out with her and our child was taken away from me, but I can't begrudge her some happiness, after so much sadness.
Hermione has suffered. I've watched over her all these years and I know how deeply my death affected her. I can relate, because I've imagined our situations being reversed so many times. I've even wished it had been her who'd died and not me, because I would rather have suffered than have her suffer. But I realise that she would be up here, watching over me and probably wishing the same things I do.
Our daughter is a wonderful child. She has a real personality of her own, although I can see a lot of Hermione in her. She has my looks, which I know both comforts and upsets Hermione. Hermione talks to me all the time about her; I wish there was some way I could let her know I hear her. And I do listen, all the time. She tells me everything, even though I can see it anyway. It's so calming to hear her voice. The same voice that used to be able to soothe me back to sleep when I'd have a nightmare. What I wouldn't give to feel her arms around me once more, her lips on mine, her voice telling me she loves me. I know she does love me, though. She tells me that every day. If only I could let her know how much her love is returned. But one day, I will be able to tell her, and that eases my pain of being up here somewhat.
Ron's influence in Victoria's life is easy to see; she utterly adores him, as he does her. I'm pleased Hermione and Victoria have him. I couldn't have asked for anyone better. He and Hermione share a special love. Not like the one my Hermione and I shared; no love could ever be like that. But he does love her with everything he is, and she loves him as much as she can.
I don't watch them during intimate moments; I feel like an intruder. There's only one time I ever watched them, and it was the first time they made love. I wanted to turn away, I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help it. I'd watched them kiss, of course. They'd been doing it for awhile. I knew Ron wanted to take it further, but to give him credit, he never pushed her. He'd been in love with her for so long, and yet he waited for her to say the words. He gave her ample opportunity to change her mind; he even asked her if she still wanted to after they'd removed their clothes. I could sense her doubt, and it made me feel guilty, as I knew it was only because of me.
It was completely different to our first time. Ours was a frenzied joining, a flurry of clothes and limbs and tongues and mouths. We laughed and cried and everything in between. Our joy could not be contained; we stayed in bed for the entire weekend, only getting up to eat and shower.
He went slowly and was incredibly gentle with her, because it had been years since she'd made love with anyone. She cried in his arms afterwards, and he held her while she talked. He didn't say a word, just held her and occasionally kissed her tenderly. It was then that I finally looked away.
I went for a walk afterwards and cried a little. I realised this meant a big change in the nature of their relationship. I knew it would end this way, that my Hermione would marry my best friend, but knowing it and seeing it are two very different things.
It made me feel so... empty.
I'm not lonely up here, though. I have plenty of people surrounding me; I see Mum and Dad all the time. It was wonderful to finally meet them, and they welcomed me with open arms. We've talked and talked about everything; they've told me stories about their time at Hogwarts and their childhoods and even mine.
I don't remember much about the accident that claimed my life; all I remember is a blinding light. This one wasn't green, though. The next thing I knew, I was up here. I knew I was dead, because I couldn't see or hear or feel my Hermione. She wasn't near me.
I can't explain how it works up here; I'm still the same age I was when I died, but Hermione will be the age she was when *I* died, instead of the age she will be when *she* dies. It's like we're going to be given another chance to live our lives together. Ron will join us soon after, and it will be just like old times.
I can't wait.
My Everything: The Hermione Monologues, Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / Victoria / Harry
|DC Slash||Harry Potter||Ros. Hetero||Ros. Slash||Ros. Other|