Tucked in the back of Hogwarts: A History and slipped into a warded wardrobe drawer in Lake Cottage
Dear Hermione,
I don't know why I'm writing this knowing that you'll never get to read it, but then none of this now is for you really, is it? It's just all for the rest of us.
It was pretty today in Highgate. You'd like the spot your Mum and Dad picked for you. It was still in the wizarding cemetery, but close to the Muggle side so they'd be able to come visit easily. There's a tree just over you, so you'll have plenty of shade, and the Egyptian Avenue's not far off. You'd like that, I think, and probably have lots to tell us about who's buried there and why they built the tombs the way they did and all sorts of things that we'd only half-listen to.
I wish I'd listened more, you know.
Things are strange without you around, love. Something big is missing. It was the three of us for so long, and then it was you and Ron and me on the edges and then Ron and me and I thought it was awful enough not having you about then, after all of that. But then it was the three of us again, in a way, and with Lilibet too, and--Christ, I miss you so much.
Reckon that damn troll all those years ago was a good thing.
I told that story today, when I got up and spoke. I was doing rather well, really. Had myself under control, or well enough. I couldn't feel my fingers or my feet and I could only look at Lily, curled up asleep in Ron's lap. And then I got to the part when I was saying you'd be missed--and I couldn't stop from crying. Like a sodding nancy and you'd just laugh at me right now and tell me that's what I am, wouldn't you, while you handed me those tissues you keep in the bottom of your bag.
This isn't right, Hermione. None of this. You're supposed to be here, dammit. You promised me you wouldn't go anywhere. You fucking promised. We were supposed to all get old and wrinkled together and you were supposed to stop me and Ron from shouting at the kids to get off our damned lawn and now look at us. You're not here, and Ron and I---
He asked me if we could get back together, me and him. The day after you--well. The day after. He kissed me and he asked me if I loved him still and what was I supposed to say? It doesn't matter how much we argue; I'll never stop loving him. Just like you didn't. Even after everything. And he didn't you either. But I still told him no, we couldn't. Not right now. I didn't know what else to say when he told me we owed it to Lily to get back together, even if we had to put other people behind us. It's just--there's other people, you know? It's not just us right now, and I saw the way Krum looked at him today. I'm not stupid. And I've Draco. And yeah, okay, maybe even Snape a bit in a really bloody strange way, and Christ, Hermione, I wish I could have told you about both of them. Except maybe you knew in your own way. You always were rather good at picking up on things like that.
And even if it were just us--if we couldn't get our shit together, him and me, would it be fair to Lily? Ron's right; we're responsible for her now, him and me, and what if we were miserable again, no matter how much we loved each other. Or her. I don't know. I'm scared, though. He's her dad. He could take her away from me. He wouldn't. I don't think. Not even if he were beyond brassed off at me. But he could, and I know that.
Why aren't you here? Why the fuck did it have to be you? Why couldn't it have been me that they turned on? Why couldn't I have gotten there earlier? Faster? I should have. I could have saved you, but I didn't. And I know they'll all tell me not to feel guilty about that, that I couldn't have done anything else, but maybe I could have, Hermione. Maybe I could have and you'd just be in hospital right now. And not--
I'm still not used to it, you know. It didn't even become real until we put you in the ground. Not even seeing you lying there--and I gave them that red dress you liked. You know the one, that you said made your arse look bloody brilliant. The one you felt beautiful in. I wanted you to feel beautiful forever. God, Hermione. This hurts so fucking much and I'm so fucking angry--
Ron frightens me right now. He's just--he's shut down. He won't talk; he won't listen. All he does is hold Lily as much as he can and he doesn't say anything unless he's talking to her or someone says something directly to him. That's not like him. You know that. And he's angry too. He wants to go after them. Get revenge.
I don't blame him for that. I want that as well. It's just--sometimes I worry that he's not thinking straight. That he doesn't care any more if he gets himself killed. That it doesn't matter.
I'm scared for him. For me. I wish you were here to talk some sense into him. Into me too.
We're not right without you. There's a hole here now, a spot that's never going to be filled and that hurts so fucking much. I don't know what to do. How do we take care of Lily without you? What's she going to do, growing up without her Mum? It's an awful thing, Hermione.
She's about the same age I was when Voldemort killed my mum and dad, you know. A little bit older. But not much. He destroys everything, doesn't he?
I won't let her forget you, you know. Neither Ron or I will. We'll tell her how amazing her mum was. How smart and how funny and how beautiful and how much we both loved her. And we'll tell her about the troll and about rescuing Buckbeak and about the first time her dad realized that her mum took his breath away.
And we'll tell her how much we miss her mum. And how much her mum loved her. So much that she died to protect her baby girl. Because that was her mum.
I miss you so much. I don't know what I'm going to do. I miss you. It hurts. I don't know what to do, Hermione. It hurts so much. So much.
We'll get them for you. I promise. Ron's right about that. We'll get them. Whatever we have to do, we'll get those fucking shits and when we do, there won't be any Azkaban for them. They aren't good enough for Azkaban.
I love you. I'm so sorry. I love you.
Harry
30.09.07
I don't know why I'm writing this knowing that you'll never get to read it, but then none of this now is for you really, is it? It's just all for the rest of us.
It was pretty today in Highgate. You'd like the spot your Mum and Dad picked for you. It was still in the wizarding cemetery, but close to the Muggle side so they'd be able to come visit easily. There's a tree just over you, so you'll have plenty of shade, and the Egyptian Avenue's not far off. You'd like that, I think, and probably have lots to tell us about who's buried there and why they built the tombs the way they did and all sorts of things that we'd only half-listen to.
I wish I'd listened more, you know.
Things are strange without you around, love. Something big is missing. It was the three of us for so long, and then it was you and Ron and me on the edges and then Ron and me and I thought it was awful enough not having you about then, after all of that. But then it was the three of us again, in a way, and with Lilibet too, and--Christ, I miss you so much.
Reckon that damn troll all those years ago was a good thing.
I told that story today, when I got up and spoke. I was doing rather well, really. Had myself under control, or well enough. I couldn't feel my fingers or my feet and I could only look at Lily, curled up asleep in Ron's lap. And then I got to the part when I was saying you'd be missed--and I couldn't stop from crying. Like a sodding nancy and you'd just laugh at me right now and tell me that's what I am, wouldn't you, while you handed me those tissues you keep in the bottom of your bag.
This isn't right, Hermione. None of this. You're supposed to be here, dammit. You promised me you wouldn't go anywhere. You fucking promised. We were supposed to all get old and wrinkled together and you were supposed to stop me and Ron from shouting at the kids to get off our damned lawn and now look at us. You're not here, and Ron and I---
He asked me if we could get back together, me and him. The day after you--well. The day after. He kissed me and he asked me if I loved him still and what was I supposed to say? It doesn't matter how much we argue; I'll never stop loving him. Just like you didn't. Even after everything. And he didn't you either. But I still told him no, we couldn't. Not right now. I didn't know what else to say when he told me we owed it to Lily to get back together, even if we had to put other people behind us. It's just--there's other people, you know? It's not just us right now, and I saw the way Krum looked at him today. I'm not stupid. And I've Draco. And yeah, okay, maybe even Snape a bit in a really bloody strange way, and Christ, Hermione, I wish I could have told you about both of them. Except maybe you knew in your own way. You always were rather good at picking up on things like that.
And even if it were just us--if we couldn't get our shit together, him and me, would it be fair to Lily? Ron's right; we're responsible for her now, him and me, and what if we were miserable again, no matter how much we loved each other. Or her. I don't know. I'm scared, though. He's her dad. He could take her away from me. He wouldn't. I don't think. Not even if he were beyond brassed off at me. But he could, and I know that.
Why aren't you here? Why the fuck did it have to be you? Why couldn't it have been me that they turned on? Why couldn't I have gotten there earlier? Faster? I should have. I could have saved you, but I didn't. And I know they'll all tell me not to feel guilty about that, that I couldn't have done anything else, but maybe I could have, Hermione. Maybe I could have and you'd just be in hospital right now. And not--
I'm still not used to it, you know. It didn't even become real until we put you in the ground. Not even seeing you lying there--and I gave them that red dress you liked. You know the one, that you said made your arse look bloody brilliant. The one you felt beautiful in. I wanted you to feel beautiful forever. God, Hermione. This hurts so fucking much and I'm so fucking angry--
Ron frightens me right now. He's just--he's shut down. He won't talk; he won't listen. All he does is hold Lily as much as he can and he doesn't say anything unless he's talking to her or someone says something directly to him. That's not like him. You know that. And he's angry too. He wants to go after them. Get revenge.
I don't blame him for that. I want that as well. It's just--sometimes I worry that he's not thinking straight. That he doesn't care any more if he gets himself killed. That it doesn't matter.
I'm scared for him. For me. I wish you were here to talk some sense into him. Into me too.
We're not right without you. There's a hole here now, a spot that's never going to be filled and that hurts so fucking much. I don't know what to do. How do we take care of Lily without you? What's she going to do, growing up without her Mum? It's an awful thing, Hermione.
She's about the same age I was when Voldemort killed my mum and dad, you know. A little bit older. But not much. He destroys everything, doesn't he?
I won't let her forget you, you know. Neither Ron or I will. We'll tell her how amazing her mum was. How smart and how funny and how beautiful and how much we both loved her. And we'll tell her about the troll and about rescuing Buckbeak and about the first time her dad realized that her mum took his breath away.
And we'll tell her how much we miss her mum. And how much her mum loved her. So much that she died to protect her baby girl. Because that was her mum.
I miss you so much. I don't know what I'm going to do. I miss you. It hurts. I don't know what to do, Hermione. It hurts so much. So much.
We'll get them for you. I promise. Ron's right about that. We'll get them. Whatever we have to do, we'll get those fucking shits and when we do, there won't be any Azkaban for them. They aren't good enough for Azkaban.
I love you. I'm so sorry. I love you.
Harry
30.09.07