australia: a r/hr mix
intro.
instrumental
I'm thinking of friends whom I used to know,
Who lived and suffered in this world below.
But they've gone off to heaven, and I want to know:
What are they doing there now?
It had been a debate for Harry, Ron, and Hermione whether or not to attend Colin's funeral. After all the others they had attended, they were understandably drained. It was Ginny who insisted that they go, and the three agreed with no argument. They knew it was the right thing to do. This is did not mean it made it any easier: Hermione watched how Dennis fought the tears as long as he could, until he was approached by his late brother's idol and was given condolences. Hermione watched as Harry patted Dennis awkwardly on the shoulder and give half-hearted assurances that it would all be all right. She felt guilty when they did not stay to talk with the rest of the mourners, but as Ron put it, it was better to leave before the press caught wind of the hero's whereabouts and made the solomn occassion a circus. That night, Hermione couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned and hummed to herself, anything to stop thinking of Colin. And Moody. And Remus. And Tonks. And Fred.
But were all happy cause the streets there are always there for us,
And its quite scary when you wake up in the same old clubs.
It's getting darker and I know time wasnt meant for us,
So won't you please, please, please come back to me?
Ice cream? Florish and Blotts? She shook her head at all these ideas, and Ron started to feel frustrated. One of those muggle movie places, would she like that? was his final offer. It earned a small smile from her, but no agreement and no sound. Instead, Ron watched as Hermione silently headed back up the Burrow's steps towards her bedroom, and after he lost sight of her, he heard the soft sound of the door closing. He fell onto the couch and put his head in his hands, thankful that no one else was in the house. Harry and Ginny off playing Quidditch with George; mum and dad visiting Bill and Fleur; Fred.... Ron stood up and glared at the family clock. Why had no one removed that damn hand? He pulled out his wand and growled the words to shatter the protective glass, and he held the tip to Fred's hand, which had been pointed at 'Desceased' for too long. The hot tip burned right through the hand and off it came. He threw it across the room. He could have managed if she had just gone to get ice cream, he yelled in his head. He could have managed if she was still herself.
And I tried to be a girl who likes to be used;
I'm too good for that.
There's a mind under this hat,
And I called them all and told them I've got to move.
The packing was going faster than she anticipated. Socks, shirts, shoes, knickers, trousers, toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, all the necessities. How long she would be there, she had not figured, so she took all the Galleons she had. Hermione had already researched that she could trade in her Galleons for Australian pounds. She felt prepared. Ron disagreed: he wanted to go with her, but she shook her head and insisted she could manage just fine. He kept bringing up the idea of Death Eaters hiding in Australia, but she shrugged him off. She had to do this on her own, without Ron or Harry. Not that she said this to him, she was convinced he would never understand. Harry quietly conceeded defeat and supported her, although Hermione felt as though it was a bit begrudgingly. Ron would not back down. Hermione would not back down. It was too exhausting for Harry or Ginny to play mediator, so they let Ron yell and Hermione listen quietly and reply with a surprising, strange, sad insistance. She knew she had changed, and that was why she had to go.
You gotta give me a chance,
And say you'll come home.
I won't love you and leave you,
And then let you go.
This had to be a joke. An elaborate hoax, and he was positive that Ginny was in on it. She insisted that she knew as little as he did. They hadn't been writing? No, they hadn't been writing, she told him once again, and he left her room angry. Harry suggested he take a deep breath, but Ron pushed past his friend and went to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Why would Hermione up and leave so suddenly? He picked up the one letter they had received from her. It said she had landed in Australia and was fine, but the letter was weeks old. As George had pointed out, no where did it say she would write again soon, or that she would write again at all. Think positive, they kept telling Ron, but he could see on their faces that they were worried, too. He picked up his quill, yanked out some parchment, and started to scribble down a nasty letter to her, but he stopped. He could not say those things to her. He would have to just wait. Two weeks later, he wrote.
I left the north.
I travelled south.
I found a tiny house,
And I can't help the way I feel.
Her mother handed her a letter with a smile before going off to make some tea in their small, sea-side home. Hermione held the letter in her hand, recognizing the handwritting on the envelope, and hesitated before opening it. He would either say something nice, or something mean, and neither was what Hermione wanted to read. No matter what he had to say, nothing would change. She loved Australia: the warmth, the sea, the culture, the people. Her parents were finishing up this and that before they planned to head back to England in late August, just in time to get Hermione back in time for the new term. How could a letter from anyone, even him, make her want to go back to cold, wet, memory-ridden England? Until she was done, completely detoxed, completely renewed, would she be able to go back there. With a deep breath, Hermione put the unopened letter in the trash and joined her mother in the kitchen.
I thought I'd write, I thought I'd let you know,
In the year since you've been gone I've finally let you go.
And I hope you find some time to drop a note,
But if you won't, then you won't, and I will consider you gone.
His letter hand been dry. He had kept himself from saying anything mean, refrained from a sweet proclamation, he just wrote the facts. The family was doing well, as was Harry. Hogwarts was nearly done being rebuilt. They were all expected to return to make up for their lost classes but he and Harry were in debate whether or not they would actually go back. Ginny was excited to return. Dad was doing well. Mum was feeling better. George was running the store by himself. He never said he missed her, or that anyone else missed her, either. If she read between the lines the way he hoped, she would find that whatever had once been was no more. If she read even deeper, she would find it was a front he was putting up and even more than missing her, he needed her. The letter had ended with a sarcastic line telling her to enjoy Australia. He did not ask her to write back.
I'm a new soul, I came to this strange world,
Hoping I could learn a bit bout how to give and take.
But since I came here, felt the joy and the fear,
Finding myself making every possible mistake.
Her first beer was with Natalie. It was bitter and made her wince, but she finished it politely. Her first time to the beach was with Alice. She went snorkling and saw a sea turtle. Her first opera was with Samuel. She cried when Orpheo sang about how he long to see Euridice again. Her second beer she finished faster, and it made her feel light headed. Her second time to the beach, she decided to just tan instead of swim and got a bad sunburn. Her second time out with Samuel, he kissed her gently and she kissed him back, even though she thought of someone else. Her third beer she drank with one hand, because Samuel was holding the other, and the third time she went to the beach she read her book with one hand, because Samuel was holding the other, and the third time she and Samuel were alone, she half-heartedly kissed him longer.
I'm tired of calling you, missing you, dreaming that I've slept with you
Don't get me wrong, I still desperately love you
Inside this weary head I just want us to love just instead
But I was just thinking and thinking, merely thinking.
Ice cream? Florish and Blotts? Ron could tell Harry was frustrated, but that was not enough incentive. It was the first time that anyone could remember that a Weasley becides Percey was de-gnoming the garden without being told. Granted, he was being a bit rougher than necessary. He grabbed the brutes by their hair and chucked them harder than necessary, but it felt good in his muscles. Harry watched the gnome go flying and then he shook his head and went back inside. To ask Ginny to do something, Ron suspected, and that made him grab the next gnome with more ferocity. Watching his knuckles go white as he held on tightly, and then tighter, he spun the gnome over his head, and it squirmed in his grip, it needed to be set free, it begged him to let go, and so with a grunt he let go, and the gnome flew further than even he thought possible.
Little Miss Soldier,
The battle is over.
Little Miss Soldier
Time you go home.
Hermione wondered whether or not it was worth getting to the airport at four in the morning to catch the flight. Her father reminded her that this was the only flight left that would get her home with enough time to repack for Hogwarts. They could have left a week or two earlier, her mother added, and Hermione nodded and came to the conclusion that the extra weeks, days, minutes in Australia were worth the early wakeup call. The friends she had made said so long the night before over good food and better drinks. She had tried her best not to get too attatched to them, but she knew that as soon as she was settled back at Hogwarts, she would be writing to them immediately. A desperate connection to a secret life that no one else would know. Although when her mother asked if she was excited to go back to England, Hermione did not hesitate to say yes, and she meant it.
And if it's true, if it's true, if that's true,
Then what the fuck have I been doing the last six years?
How did I end up here?
How did I find love and conquer all my fears?
Strange, Harry commented, to be going back knowing that the year would end in exams and no dangerous encounters. Ron have a half-smile and told him not to assume too much, for where Harry went, danger followed. The two friends smiled at one another and then looked around the platform for familiar faces. One in particular was on both their minds, but neither said that outloud. Last time anyone had said her name was when Ginny reminded them a few breakfasts ago that they would get to see her again. The cold look from Ron told everyone else that her name was not to be used. Not until he had forgiven her, because he certainly could not forget her. It was not until he felt a nudge on his elbow that he was brought from the memory of that breakfast, and he saw Harry nod to something in front of them. She was walking towards them. Her hair was lighter, her skin tanner, her look more hesitant and much less confident than before. Ron knew Harry would be kind, but not let it go lightly. Nor would Ginny. They would stand by him, he knew it. Harry smiled and said hello, Ginny hurried over to offer a hug, and Ron's eyes were on her neck, where a small scar had never properly healed and stood out against her tanned skin. That scar made his stomach twist more than when he saw her smile. As long as she had that scar, she would be the girl he saved. He knew it, she knew it, and keeping that in mind, he nodded to her and cleared his throat before welcoming her back.