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The problem with the castle’s massive reconstruction was that everyone wanted to restore it to its previous condition and maintain some destruction to remind us of the war. It wasn’t only the place where Harry defeated Voldemort. It was where friends and families were broken apart, stolen by Death. It was where a permanent hole of darkness had permeated into our hearts.
But we didn’t forget the lesson we learnt:
Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light .
So, that’s what we did.
We repaired the walls of Hogwarts, restored the staircases, and rebuilt the place all British wizards and witches called home for seven years of their lives. Hogwarts helped us in our times of need, and it was time for us to help back. Because the castle held our secrets, moulded our lives, taught us something new, it deserved our help in return. We left cracks on purpose, letting the scars remain visible rather than erasing them. The wounds would mend, but the marks needed to remain to show healing and the life that would continue despite the pain we went through.
There was a period of mourning, of sorrow. Yes, we had won – but we had also lost. And though the loss would never be forgotten, it was time to turn on the light now that the barriers of hate were destroyed.
On the first of September, the Ministry held a ball for the revelation of Hogwarts where a new generation of magical pupils would enter its stone walls. The Ministry worked with Headmistress McGonagall and the teachers, and every witch and wizard who fought in the final battle was invited to join in the remembrance ball.
* * *
Ron wasn’t sure he wanted to return to Hogwarts. Would he be able to walk through the same corridor where Fred laughed for the final time? Would standing in the Great Hall reawaken the nightmares that sleep during the day, nightmares in which he sees only bodies with vacant eyes staring into the starless ceiling when darkness took over all enchantments? But Harry was going, and it would be hard enough for him to do it alone. If Ron could do anything to lighten his guilt, then he would do it. Once he made the decision, Ron knew there was one other thing he needed to do.
The street was quiet, composed of neat rows of family homes that remained unscathed with prim lawns and cars parked on their drives. Ron shifted on the balls of his feet outside of Hermione’s house, nerves boiling in his stomach like a badly brewed potion. Hermione would be able to fix it. She always sorted out anytime he made a mess, and as he smiled at that thought, the bubbling nerves in his belly subdued to a simmer of excitement. After a pause, the front door opened and Hermione stood in the frame, dressed in a long, dark dress.
“Hi, Ron.”
“Hi,” he breathed out. When she turned to say goodbye to her parents, the light hit the fabric of her dress in a way that caused it to shimmer, and Ron realised she wasn’t wearing jet black. It radiated glimmers of stars interwoven in the satin. “You look beautiful.” He let the words tumble out.
Though she already wore colour on her cheeks, they pinkened even more as Ron took her arm and disapparated them with a pop into Hogsmeade Station.
Students in their Hogwarts robes milled about, looking for friends, stretching their legs, and queuing behind Hagrid’s booming tenor voice. But when the scarlet engine fell into Ron’s view, he grabbed Hermione’s hand tighter until she squeezed back.
Eight years ago. How time had passed. There, on the Hogwarts Express’s last compartment, he saw bushy hair and heard a bossy voice. That was the first time Ron ever set eyes on Hermione Granger.
With the rustling wind slapping his cheeks, the crisp countryside air returned Ron’s mind to the warmth of Hermione’s grip. He choked back emotion that stammered in his heart’s palpitations. Eight years later – and still, it was like seeing Hermione for the first time but in a new light. There was more to her wild curls and nagging voice.
Hermione turned to him as if she could read the memories on his face and laid a hand to caress his cheek. In her eyes, he found comfort, reassurance, all the unsaid words that connected them. With her smile, Ron found lightness creeping back into the throbbing pain at the thought of almost losing her. Holding hands, they made their way to the boats by the lake where Harry was waiting for them.
Murmurs and mutters reduced into silence when the trio sat in the first boat and drifted from land. The chill of the lake became a backdrop for the view that lay before them. Shimmering yellow glows emanated from the castle, each lit window reflected into the deep dark waters of the lake which scintillated with each wave.
The first time Ron crossed the lake he’d been too afraid, each inhale an attempt to keep down the chocolate he ate during the long journey. Now, there was an uneasiness in his chest, and silent tears warmed his face. Flashes flickered in his mind of flames blazing through the castle, of walls crumbling down, and jets of streaming red and green light flying through the air.
But tonight, there was a stillness as even the wind quieted down. He reached for the wand in his robes, a slender wood whose grip had grown familiar in recent weeks. And he lifted his arm, unsure if he even spoke the word before the brilliant ray protruded from it.
Hermione sniffled an, “Oh,” beside him.
Turning to her, he followed her gaze behind them and found that the boats, the sky, the waters, were all glowing with light. As they loomed closer to the castle, the Astronomy tower blinked radiant, white light until it pierced the sky and illuminated its darkness with a second sun. From the woods of the Forbidden Forest, more jets split the darkness apart, and the whole of Hogwarts was alight.
When they docked at the foot of the castle, Ron tugged Hermione’s arm, letting Harry and the students filter their way into the Great Hall with a respectful silence, remembering all those who would never walk the school grounds again. Ron gulped down the fear that caught hold of him and sought that warmth of her slender fingers. Hermione looked up at him through thick dark lashes that fluttered wide open.
The first time he’d known, he’d been too stupid to recognise what it was. And when he’d realised, he couldn’t speak the words in the middle of a war. Weeks after the final battle, there was too much hurt, and though they were together, he kept quiet.
But this was a moment he couldn’t let pass by, because before Hermione walked back into the castle to finish her studies, Ron needed her to know he was waiting for her, just as she had waited for him. She was an eternal light in his heart that he would always follow.
“Hermione, I-I haven’t said this before.” His stomach and chest became one mess of twists and turns. “Being back here… I know that after all that we went through together here – I need to tell you something. I need you to know it, as I know it in my bones, in my heart. We made it out alive, and if there’s a reason, it’s to make it to this moment and tell you I love you.”
Hermione’s lip trembled and tears trickled down. “I love you.”