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‘Til The End


The sound echoed throughout the room, loud and almost defeaning. It was followed almost immediately by a thunderous, sickening crunch and everyone around visibly cringed, the desire to look away growing stronger by the minute. But, even though the sight of it was difficult to tolerate, it was the sounds that disturbed them the most. To have to hear the echoes of bone cracking and the screams of the victim was almost too much. But out of every person in the room who found it hard to watch, on person found it completely unbearable.

The victim himself.

Draco exhaled as best he could, the pain from his broken ribs ripping agonizingly through his side and chest. He rubbed gingerly at his side while he tried to push himself up, a feat that was halted by the force of another brutal punch to his face. Another crunch filled the room and something began a thick descent to his top lip. Draco raised his hand up to the warm substance and drew it back, gazing down at the redness of the blood from his now broken nose. He looked up at his attacker, his eyes portraying the very hatred that began to spread throughout his body.

“On your feet,” his attacker growled, grabbing him by his shirt collar and flinging him against the wall.

Draco did all he could to brace himself but pain still shot through his limbs and he cried out, unable to handle anything else. He was exhausted and weakened beyond imagination. And who could blame him? The past two hours had been nothing but torture - complete with physical beatings and whippings that left scars on his back and legs and more broken bones that he could count. But, he knew that was not the end of it. Not after what he had done.

Another kick was aimed at Draco’s stomach. “I said on your bloody feet!”

Percy snarled as he let his anger consume him, readying him for more of the damage he was getting ready to inflict. He was a ruthless man, he knew - set on hurting his victims to the point where they begged for death. But nothing angered him more than when he had to punish one of his very own. And that’s just what he had to do to Draco for his treachery. After discovering that Draco had blatantly lied to him, he had retreated to the Luna’s holding cell with all purposes of having a ‘word’ with his supposed front-line-man only to discover that his deceit had gone beyond just perjury…

Percy stormed the length of the hallway, his fists clenched, eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed in frustration. How dare Draco lie to him? After all he had done for the Malfoy family, Draco had the audacity to go behind his back. He should have known something was amiss. Draco had been acting funny for quite some time now, showing symptoms of regret and guilt. There was no room for such emotions in his operation and he should have gotten rid of the blonde boy from then. But he hadn’t and now that same person he had speared had gone against him. Luna was already beginning to pay for her sedition and her dear old brother was about to follow in her footsteps.

Reaching the room in record time, Percy flung open the door angrily but stopped when his eyes landed inside. The bed was empty, save for the ropes that had held Luna bounded to the posts. There was no sign of a struggle – in fact, the room looked completely intact except for the sheets on the bed that had been ruffled during his fight with Luna. So, that could only mean that Luna had help getting free. And there was only one person who had access to her besides him. Only one person could have loosened her binds and let her walk freely. Only one.

Percy punched the door and turned on his heel, heading down the hallway. Malice flashed across his eyes and he pulled out his wand, holding it securely. He was angry. No scratch that. He was fucking pissed off! He would have to teach Draco a lesson, and, to keep anyone else from straying, he would also have to make an example out of him. A fatal one.

“Where’s Draco?” he shouted, causing the two guards at the end of the hall to jump.

“Er, he, uh…”

Avada Kedavra!” The incantation slipped from his lips without hesitation and the guard fell, the scared and confused expression still etched on his face. Then, Draco turned to the other guard. “You better be a lot more help than he was!”

“Er,” the guard stammered, his eyes lingering on his dead companion. “I-I saw Draco head towards the ballroom, sir. I-I think he was looking for you.”

Percy pushed past without another word and headed straight for the ballroom. So, Draco had been stupid enough to stick around after helping Luna escape? Well, he would receive just consequences for all his stupid acts. Once Percy reached the ballroom, he aimed his wand and the door flew open with a loud bang, causing everyone inside to jump and turn. Lucius, Greyback, Draco and five other men were all gathered inside. When they saw the murderous gleam in Percy’s eyes, they all straightened and came to full attention.

“What’s the problem, sir,” one of the men asked, brave – or stupid - enough to face Percy’s wrath.

Percy barely glanced at him, though. As quick as lightening, he was standing in front of Draco, his wand aimed at the boy’s heart and his eyes staring straight into the boy’s orbs. He could see it all – the fear, the guilt, the treason – and it made him sick to know that all his accusations had been true. For a slight second, he had hoped that maybe he had been wrong - as hard as that would have been for him to admit. But now that he knew he was right, complete rage took over.

“Do you know the one thing I hate the most, Draco?”

Draco inhaled deeply and looked around, glancing at everyone inside the room. They were all just standing around, watching the scene unfold. His eyes went back to Percy and he immediately knew what had happened. Percy had discovered that Luna was gone and had pretty much accurately guessed that he was the one responsible.

“Traitors,” Percy said, answering his own question when Draco remained silent. “Traitors are the worst people there are. They go behind the backs of the very people who brought them to where they are. They become biters of the hands that feed them, so-to-speak.” Percy lowered his wand slowly but kept his gaze on Draco, unwaveringly. “Treachery is such an unforgivable act; don’t you think so, Draco?”

Just as Draco opened his mouth to speak, Percy’s hand collided with the side of his face and he stumbled, shocked by the abruptness as well as by the searing pain that seemed too much for just a slap. He rubbed his cheek and tried to gain some kind of composure but he knew it was far too late for that.

Percy took a step towards him and, instinctively, Draco stepped back, causing the man to smile menacingly. “I’m going to make an example out of you, Draco,” he said, so calmly that it spooked everyone. “And when I’m through with you,
no one will dare defy me.”

And so far, he had stuck to that promise. He wanted Draco to suffer and could tell by the hunched stature, the bleeding cuts and the vivid bruises all over Draco’s body that he was succeeding in his attempt. Percy stepped back, watching as Draco leaned against the wall. One of his hands was clutched at his side, right on top of a big purple bruise; the other was dabbing gingerly at his nose as he winced from the pain.

“I expected so much from you,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “You were so loyal in the beginning; eager to do everything I asked of you. But, then you go and turn your back on me.” He leaned over, bringing his pointed nose square with Draco’s bloody one. “Tell me, what did you expect to happen? Did you think that you would set her free, she’d go to those friends of hers and they’d get here before I discovered you’re little secret?” His voice rose higher with each question. “Tell me, Draco! Just what did you expect?”

“I expected an innocent person to go free,” Draco managed to reply, spitting out blood as he did so. “And I expected Luna to be able to get away from the likes of you.”

Percy straightened, surprised by Draco’s brazenness. The two stared at each other as Draco’s breathing became more laboured and Percy’s became more heated. The red-haired man made to turn around but swung his foot back instead, quickly bringing it forward to collide with Draco’s stomach once again. The boy keeled over and spit out another heap of blood. He was beginning to shake now. His arms trembled as he tried to push himself up and his legs felt wobbly even though he wasn’t standing on them. His body was slowly faltering and he knew it wasn’t long before it would give up completely. Draco chanced a glance up and his eyes connected with the end of Percy’s wand.

“It would be so much easier to just ask for me to kill you,” he said menacingly, “instead of angering me further. Crucio!

Pain the likes of nothing he’d ever felt before bombarded Draco and he flew onto his back, jerking as the spell took its toll on his limbs. His legs felt like someone was slowly hacking away at them - cutting flesh, slashing muscle and smashing bones. His arms felt like they were on fire, burning with an intensity that could set the entire world ablaze. His lungs felt as if they were being smushed, and an enormous weight had settled onto his chest such that he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and he felt like he couldn’t live any longer. And, just before he thought his heart would cave under the excruciating pressure, it was all lifted.

“Do you want me to end it, Draco?” Percy knelt beside the boy, his voice going suddenly calm. “Do you want it all to stop? Because I could. One word from you and it all could be over. Forever.”

Draco knew what he was being given – the chance to ask for his own death. It was Percy’s sick and twisted way of taking the responsibility of killing someone off his shoulders and placing it squarely on the victim’s. But he wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction. He would rather Percy kill him outlandishly than give in to the man anymore.

“I don’t have one word,” Draco said, “but I do have three. Go to hell.”

Percy stood slowly and stretched out his hand towards a nearby henchman. Something gleaming and silver was slipped into his outstretched fingers and he swung it around, drawing the hilt into his palm. Then, he returned to his crouching position, his grip tightening on the knife as he brought it directly over Draco’s heart.

“You first.”

Percy raised the dagger high and Draco felt the world slow down. He saw the blade flash and sensed every single millisecond of the plunge as it descended closer and closer to his chest. Strangely enough, he felt his heart speed up, as if begging for more life and thoughts of what he needed to do flashed in his mind, although he knew it was already too late.

The room remained silent, everyone trying their best to absorb and understand Luna’s last statement. James Potter stared at Arthur Weasley and felt a pang of sympathy for the man hit his heart. In all his years of living he had never understood the true meaning of the word ‘betrayed’. No one he had trusted had ever turned their backs on him. So, he had no idea the kind of emotions that must have been ripping away at the man and his children, but could pretty much guess that disappointment and sheer shock were among them.

And he was right. Arthur Weasley was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions that he had no idea how to sort out. But one he could determine was shock. His own son was the culprit. All these years, he had been leading the very person who was out to destroy him. How could he not know? Had he gotten that bad and that obsessed with his career and the war that he was neglecting his paternal responsibilities? The simple answer was yes, he had. And because of that, his own son had turned his back on him and his family. Arthur shook his head, and let out a groan of frustration. The loud sound seemed to draw everyone from their reverie and slowly, all eyes turned to one person.

Luna took a step back. It was all she could do as six pairs of eyes locked onto her. She knew the disbelief and the hint of malice was not directed at her but she felt her body shudder from the gazes nonetheless. A protective hand snaked its way around her waist and she knew instantly that it was Neville. Silently thanking him for his presence, she gripped his shirt and stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Are you sure?” Arthur asked, his voice sounding so small.

Luna nodded and looked up. “Yes. I saw him with my own eyes.”

Arthur sighed and turned his gaze away. “My own son.”

“I should’ve known.” Ron shook his head as he folded his arms. “I should’ve guessed it when he was being so bloody difficult when I came to talk to you guys,” he added, nodding to Fred, George and Charlie.

“Percy’s always been a prick,” Fred said, flinging himself back into a chair. “He was just acting as he normally does.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, “but it was worse that day. We all should have picked up on it.” He rubbed his forehead and then shouted, “God! Why didn’t I step up to the plate sooner?”

Resentment shot through Charlie and he tried to shake it away, even though he knew it was no use. He had messed up. He had thought that by keeping what he knew quiet, he could keep himself safe and keep his family out of harms way. But it had proven futile. His loved ones were now in even more danger and he had kept one of the most important pieces of information hidden. If he had just taken Ron up on his offer sooner, they could have saved so much time and maybe even a few lives.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Charlie,” Ginny said, rubbing his back affectionately. “You’re taking your stance now and that’s what really counts.”

Charlie nodded but turned away. No matter what anyone said, that guilt would haunt him for the rest of his life. Ginny sighed and then turned to look at Harry, who was standing beside his father. He was watching her, his look intense. She could read the longing in his eyes, feel the desire in his gaze and she knew just how much he wanted to hold her. She wanted him to, too. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and bury her shoulder in his chest and just forget about everything but she knew she had to wait. So, instead, she wrapped her arms around her stomach and turned her attention back on Luna.

“Was that where you were, Luna?” Hermione asked, finally standing from her seated position on the couch and steering the conversation back to the original topic.

Again, Luna nodded and Ginny asked quietly, “What happened?”

She took a deep breath and looked up at Neville, letting him know silently that this was the explanation she had been waiting to tell him. He nodded and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently to reassure her. She wanted nothing more than to sink into his embrace and just forget act like nothing had ever happened but she knew she couldn’t. What she had to say was important and she couldn’t just walk away from it.

Luna launched into her tale. “After Greyback kidnapped me, he took me back to my home. I didn’t know that’s where I was at first but I discovered it shortly after I had woken up, shackled in the dungeons. Anyway,” she continued, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “I was taken to the ballroom where this man in a cloak…tortured me.” She felt Neville tense beside her and slowly slipped her hand from his, knowing that any reaction from him would cause her to want to say no more. She had to keep talking. And so she did.

“I thought he was going to kill me right then and there,” she said, folding her arms around her. “I couldn’t see his face but I could feel his anger and he kept telling me how much of a disappointment and a traitor I was, basically hinting that I deserved to be punished severely. But, he didn’t kill me. He just removed his cloak instead and I got a glimpse of his face. I recognized everything – the red-hair, the freckles – just everything and, a part of me knew that he was a Weasley. But, it wasn’t until Charlie said his name that I realized I was right.”

“Luna.” Neville reached out his hand to her. “Did something else happen?” he asked, his calm voice not fully portraying the impatience in his eyes.

“And don’t lie to us, Luna,” Ginny said, coming to stand next to her. “I can see the bruise on your neck. What did Pe-” She stopped midsentence and closed her eyes. “What did he do to you?”

“He tried to rape me,” Luna said, her voice trembling. “He had me dressed into this sleazy outfit and tied to a bed.”

“Oh my goodness,” Ginny breathed, turning away and rubbing her forehead. “The sick bastard!”

Neville huffed and shook his head. “I thought it was Greyback who -” He trailed off and shook his head again.

“No,” said Luna, “it was Percy.”

“He’s going to rot in hell,” said Neville, earning looks from a few people.

“You bet he will,” Arthur interjected. “I’m going to make sure of that.”

Ginny looked at her father and immediately knew that another member of the Weasley family had been lost.

“How did you get away?” Ron asked, shocked himself by all of what was going on.

“Draco,” replied Luna. “I put up a fight with Percy and he kept trying to hurt me but Draco managed to distract him long enough to get me out of there. If it wasn’t for my brother, I may not be alive right now.”

“Whoa, wait.” Hermione took a few steps forward, stopping right behind Mr. Potter’s chair. “Draco? As in Draco Malfoy?” Luna nodded and Hermione guffawed. “You’re joking right? Draco helped you escape?”

“He did,” Luna said, smiling sadly. “He distracted Percy and got me safely out of the house.”

“Well, then, it must be a trap,” Hermione quickly replied, shaking her hands for emphasis. “They must have let you go so they could track you and find us. Who knows? They could be waiting for us outside right now.”

Ginny arched her eyebrow at her friend. She understood Hermione’s concern, seeing as how she had almost been one of Draco’s victims in the beginning. But for some reason she believed Luna. Maybe it was the trusting look in Luna’s eyes or just something instinctive but she felt as if Draco was no longer a threat.

“Hermione,” Ginny said, “if that were true, don’t you think they would have attacked by now?”

“That’s true,” she conceded, tapping her chin. “Well, then there must be another reason behind his actions.”

“He wants to help,” Luna said, her voice a little stronger. “He told me himself.”

“He could have lied to you.”

Luna shook her head. “He didn’t. I know he didn’t.”

“But Luna, he’s a Malfoy,” Hermione said, stretching out the last word.

“And just what is that supposed to mean,” Luna said, a little irritated.

She put her hands on her hips and glared at Hermione who suddenly realized what she had said. Her statement did nothing to support her argument; all it did was imply that all Malfoy’s were good-for-nothing and, by extension, implicate Luna as being a bad person. She hadn’t meant for it to sound like that. She took a deep breath.

“Look, Luna, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that -”

“That what?” Luna interjected, getting angrier by the second. “That what? That being a Malfoy means you’re a bad person? Well, you’re wrong!” She had no idea where her anger or her words came from but she kept talking. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a Malfoy, too, Hermione and you seem to trust me just fine. Why can’t you for one second just consider the possibility that blood and family has nothing to do with how a person behaves?”

She gestured to Ginny, silently reminding everyone of Ginny’s insistence to be nothing like the rest of her family. Then, she indiscreetly pointed to Ron, instantly remembering Hermione’s accusations that Ron was careless like his father. Satisfaction hit her when Hermione glanced at Ron and turned her gaze to the floor, obviously ashamed. Luna took a deep breath and started walking towards Hermione.

“You see, Hermione,” she continued, “it’s not fair to judge someone based on what another person does. I know - no, I believe that Draco’s changed. He placed his life in danger to save me and I am not about to stand here and let you besmirch his good deed.”

Hermione took a step back. “I’m sorry, Luna,” she said with a sigh. “I just…I’ve dealt with Draco myself so pardon me if my impression of him is not all that great.” She turned on her heel and exited the room, pushing past Fred, George and Ron (who didn’t even look at her) before storming up the stairs.

James cleared his throat. “Um, excuse me. I know you’ve all told us about this third person and everything but it seems to me that there are some crucial details that are being left out.” He looked pointedly at Harry who averted his gaze. “Harry, would you care to elaborate on just what the hell has been happening?”

Harry looked down at his father. The stern gaze that met him made him recoil slightly and he felt as if he was an eight-year-old again, caught playing with his father’s wand after being specifically told not to. Instead of answering right away, Harry aimed his wand at the ropes and lifted the charm before untying them. He did the same to Arthur and gave the men a few minutes to stretch and shake the feeling back into their limbs.

“Maybe we should all move into the den,” he said, rubbing his hands across the back of his neck. He felt tense and exhausted and wanted nothing more than curl up in bed with Ginny’s body next to his. But he knew that he had a long while to wait before any such luxuries and comforts could be afforded him.

Ron watched silently as everyone began filing out the room, with Harry in the lead. Arthur and James followed closely, Sirius strategically placed between them to play mediator if need be. His brothers trail them, all of their heads bowed and their shoulders slumped. The news of Percy’s betrayal was evidently still taking its toll. Next out of the room were Luna and Neville. They slowly walked with their hands linked and Luna’s head resting on Neville’s shoulders. He could tell she was exhausted and his heart went out to her. The poor girl had been through so much in her life, the pain inflicted by her very own family and she was still battling those demons. It didn’t help matters, either, when the person who had tortured her and nearly violated her was his own brother.

Ron felt his body quiver at the thought and exhaled deeply. The idea that Percy was the maniac they had been after for so long made him feel ashamed and somewhat useless. There had been so many opportunities to take him down, had he known the truth long beforehand. But he hadn’t and Percy had just kept on with his game, kidnapping, torturing and murdering people, all in the name of power. What was so great about power anyway? All it did was bring debauchery, treachery and constant worry at your doorstep. And those were things Ron would gladly choose to live his life without.

He preferred more comforting things to keep his life fulfilled. Like having that perfect job that kept him satisfied and financially stable for the rest of his life. Or having time to himself where the fear of being watched, hunted or killed no longer loomed over his head. But most of all he preferred a life with someone to love – a woman he could give his whole heart and soul to; a woman who would love him no matter what and give him memories, laughter and children. A life with a wife – that was the kind of thing he would fight to have.

Sighing, he looked up towards the very stairs that Hermione had disappeared up not too long ago. She was the person he saw fitting that role of a wife for him. She was beautiful, smart and he was crazy for her. She had the ability to love like no other and give of herself, just like he wanted. But how could he be with someone who looked down on him and thought that he was a cruel person, just because of who his father is? Luna was right. Hermione judged a person based on someone else’s actions and it was unfair. But, despite that, he couldn’t stop the desire he felt and the wanting that accompanied every thought of her and lingered long after those thoughts ended. He desired her; there was no doubt about that. But the real question was: did she want him – flaws and all?

“You should go and talk to her,” someone said, drawing his attention away from the stairs.

Ron spun to see Ginny standing in the same spot. Her arms were folded around her stomach and she was watching him, an encouraging smile spread across her lips. He sighed and slipped his hands in his pocket.

“What makes you think she wants to talk to me?” he asked, looking down at his feet.

“Because she cares about you,” Ginny replied as-a-matter-of-factly. She stepped closer to him and touched her brother’s shoulder. “She’s scared you know.” When Ron looked up suddenly she nodded and continued, “She thinks you hate her for what she said and she’s worried you’ll hold it against her.”

“I don’t,” Ron said, shaking his head. “It just hurt a little to know that she even thought I could do something like that.”

“I understand, bro,” Ginny said, dropping her hand. “What you have to understand about Hermione is that, even though she’s a gifted artist, she can be narrow-minded sometimes and it takes her a while to realize that things aren’t always the way they seem. Just tell her that she has to trust that you’re not a bad person and make her understand.”

Ron nodded and hugged Ginny. “Thank you, sis.”

Ginny pulled away from the hug and smiled up at him. “Anytime. Now, go get your girl.”

Ron laughed and hugged Ginny again, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head. Then, he headed towards the stairs, a sudden burst of excitement hitting him. He gave Ginny one quick nod before taking the stairs two at a time. He was nervous about talking to Hermione; he was never really good with the heart-to-heart stuff. But, he wanted nothing more than to put everything behind them so they could move on. So they could move forward. Towards the future. Together.

Finally reaching the landing on his and Hermione’s floor, he walked briskly towards the bedroom door. He hoped this was where she had come, or else he’d have to go searching for her and that was something he did not want to have to do. Standing in front of the door, he sighed deeply and then raised his hand, balling it into a fist and knocking lightly on the door. There was no answer. He placed his ear against the frame and knocked again. This time he heard rustling and what sounded like a sniff before Hermione uttered the words, “Come in.”

He turned the knob and pushed the door open, closing it right behind him. He looked up and saw Hermione sitting on the edge of the bed, her back turned to him and a pillow folded in her lap. He could see her moving one of her hands back and forth across her face, as if she was wiping at her eyes and Ron wondered if she had been crying. Another sniffle confirmed his suspicions and he walked over to her, coming to stand beside her.

“Hermione,” he whispered, “do you want to talk?”

She looked up at him and Ron felt his heart constrict. Her eyes were red and tears were still slipping from them, trailing down her cheeks and curving under her chin before dropping onto the pillow in her lap. He sat on the bed next to her and placed his hand on her lower back, rubbing his thumb back and forth soothingly. Slowly, she composed herself and turned her face to his, pushing the pillow away as she did so.

“I’m such a bad person,” she said, her voice cracking from the emotion she was holding within her.

Ron scooted closer to her. “What makes you think you’re a bad person?”

“Because, I can’t seem to stop accusing people of all these bad things,” she replied, wiping her left eye. “I accused you of torture, I was quick to think badly of Draco and I basically told Luna that she’s no good because of who her family is, even though I didn’t mean to.”

“First of all,” Ron started, cupping her chin and lifting her face to his, “you’re not a bad person. And Luna knows you don’t really think she’s evil, your words just came out wrong. If you talk to her, I’m sure you could make her understand what you were trying to say.” Hermione nodded and Ron kissed her forehead before continuing. “And it’s completely understandable that you would think Draco is up to no good. He tried to poison you, Hermione; after acting nice and gentlemanly towards you, he turned around and tried to kill you. Anyone would be weary after going through something like that.”

“But Luna seems so sure that he’s changed.”

Ron shrugged. “Maybe he has. But you haven’t been around him to know. All you have to go on is you’re first impression, which was not a very good one.”

“Well, actually” Hermione started, blushing a little, “my first impression was that he was really sexy.” She turned her head and bit her lip to surpress a giggle from the shocked look on Ron’s face.

“Hm, well, er…” He cleared his throat and rubbed the side of his neck. “I guess that…hm.”

Hermione chuckled and turned to look back at him. “I think you’re way sexier, though,” she whispered, kissing his cheek.

Ron looked at her and smiled. “I forgive you, you know,” he said, out of the blue. When she arched her eyebrow he added, “For your accusations against me. I don’t blame you either; for a while, I thought the same thing; that I was going to end up like my father and it scared me a little.”

Hermione shook her head. “I still shouldn’t have said it. It was rude and obnoxious and completely uncalled for and I -”

Ron cut her off, planting his lips on hers and drawing her into a chaste but delicious kiss. When he pulled away, he rested his head against her forehead and whispered, “I forgive you, Hermione. Let’s end it right there.”

“Do you think Luna will?”

“I think so,” Ron replied, linking his fingers with hers. “Once you show her that you’re truly sorry.”

Hermione nodded. “Thank you.” She kissed his nose and giggled when he scrunched it up, shaking his head. “What?” she asked, pouting her lips. “You don’t like my bunny kisses?”

Ron shook his head and cupped her face in his hands. “I prefer your full-on ones.”

She didn’t have time to grin at Ron’s cheeky comment before his lips connected with hers. She slipped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as his slid to her waist, pushing her sideways onto the bed. She obeyed his commands without complaint and deepened the kiss when Ron curved next to her, tightening his hold and pulled her body as close to his as possible. It was bliss. She felt a whole lot better now, knowing that her words no longer plagued Ron. She still felt bad about it, but being with him in that moment was enough to quench her fears and make her feel content. This was where she was, where she wanted to be and where she hoped to be until the end.

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