Change Comes From Words

All previous disclaimers apply.

Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who responded to my not so subtle plea for reviews. I’m absolutely much too spoiled by all of them. I promise that I won’t do that again. So, now the story is drawing closer to the end, but it’s not over yet. It will be just one chapter longer than I had originally anticipated, I think. So, two more chapters and an epilogue left. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story and I hope the ending is what you had hoped for and expected.


The light as Harry opened his eyes was bright, but not blinding. It was warm, comforting, enveloping him like an embrace. Was this what it felt like to be dead, he wondered idly as he began to walk, unsure of where he was going, not really caring that he didn’t know. This place. This place felt like home, even though he was certain that he’d never been there. It was a beautiful old house, white with green shutters, that stood stately and welcoming as he approached it from behind. He could taste salt on his lips and knew that they were close to the sea. This house, he smiled, this was the house he had imagined sharing with Ron in his dreams. This was more than a house, more than a place. It felt like home because it was home. Was he dead? To be so comfortable, to be so warm and safe? If so, he wondered why anyone feared it. Was this heaven?

“Hardly,” a smooth voice he had been wanting to hear for nine months interrupted his thoughts as he rounded the corner. His breath hitched when he saw Ron standing on the porch in nothing but a pair of jeans, waiting for him, “You’re not dead, Harry. You know I wouldn’t allow that.” Ron smiled and Harry felt his heart stop momentarily, “What? Are you just going to stand there and look at me?”

With a half sob, Harry ran up the stairs and into Ron’s open arms. The taller man held him close as Harry buried his face in his neck and simply cried. After a moment Ron held him out at arm’s length and wiped the tears away.

“What’s all this here? Harry Potter crying. What would they say to see The Boy Who Saved Us All blubbering like a child?”

“I don’t care,” Harry smiled, cupping Ron’s face in his hands, “You’re here. You’re right here in front of me.”

“Yes, I am. But, this is only a dream, Harry. You’re going to have to wake up soon.”

“No!” Harry wrapped his arms around Ron’s waist again, “I won’t! I don’t want to. I just want to stay here with you! I love you, Ron. I won’t let you go now that I have you.”

Harry felt Ron release a shaky breath, “If only you knew how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that. Yes, Harry, you do have me. You’ll always have me. But, you do have to wake up!”

“No!”

“Yes, Harry. They still need you.”

“I’ve done my part!” Harry cried, pushing away from Ron’s embrace, “I killed him, just like I was supposed to! I’ve given everything up for them. There’s blood on my hands for them. I gave up you for all of them! Haven’t I done enough?”

“Harry,” Harry stiffened a little when Ron put his arms around Harry from behind, pulled his close and placed a gentle kiss to his neck, “My poor, tired Harry. Of course you’ve done enough. But, if you don’t wake up we’ll never really be together.”

“You mean?” Harry turned around in Ron’s arms. The handsome ginger haired man just smiled at him softly, sweetly, “I love you, Ron.”

“And I love you,” Ron answered, pulling him close again, “Now wake up, Harry. Wake up. Harry . . . Harry . . .”


“Harry? Harry?” Harry blinked rapidly as his eyes snapped open to a blurred picture of people he was sure that he should recognize. He sat up quickly in the bed, a little panicked, and grabbed when his glasses were held out in front of him.

“Harry, son, it’s okay. It’s over.” Arthur Weasley’s voice was comforting as a warm hand was set to his shoulder. Harry panted heavily, looking at the people who surrounded him. All his friends, his family. Everything came back in a rush. Draco laying against the wall, the battle in the graveyard, taking Voldemort’s life, and a dream . . . a dream he couldn’t quite remember. The relieved tears filled his eyes and he grabbed on to Molly Weasley when she sat on the bed and wrapped him in her arms. For nearly a quarter hour he simply cried out all of his fear, his anger, his relief, and all of the grief he wasn’t sure really had a reason behind it. Molly simply held him and rocked, making little soothing noises and hums as she did so until he was calmed enough to look at the people up and around at the people in the room, all of them smiling gently. No rejoicing. There could never be rejoicing among the people who had actually fought the war. They had lost too many, too easily. But, there was an easy grace to their smiles that reached the eyes that let Harry know they were happier than they’d been in a long time.

Arthur had placed a hand on Molly’s shoulder and looked down on him with all the pride a father could have for his son. Hermoine and Viktor stood at the edge of the bed, their arms around each other’s waists. Hermoine nodded at him, tears in her eyes. George and Nahane sat at his left elbow, their fingers entwined. Fred and Katie were on his right. Fred had his arms around his wife from behind and was resting his chin on her shoulder as they both smiled at him. Neville stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his eyes peaceful. Minerva sat on the edge of his bed, not bothering to hide her tears. Bill, Fleur, Hagrid, Lupin, Dean, Oliver, Lavender, so many others he had worried about because they had not been under the same roof most of the time, they were all there. But where was . . .

“Draco?” Harry questioned, afraid of the answer.

“He’s fine, love,” Molly smiled, “He’s in a room of his own. Still a little weak, but fine. Charlie said to tell you he was proud of you, but that . . .”

“That he can’t leave Draco’s side,” Harry finished, “And he shouldn’t. What happened?”

“When you killed Voldemort somehow the Death Eaters knew. They began attacking people where ever they were hiding, all over the country. And they weren’t subtle about it. We all had our hands full for two days trying to hunt them all down. Those we didn’t have to kill ourselves were dead by the time we got to them anyway.”

“What?”

“Suicide,” Minerva said quietly, setting a hand to Harry’s knee, “Some said they would not be going to Azkaban before they turned their wands on themselves. Every known Death Eater has been accounted for. Most are dead. Some have really come out of the Imperius Curse. Olivander being one of them.”

“Can it be that easy?” Harry whispered.

“Easy?” Hagrid questioned, “You call three years open war easy?”

“Hush, Hagrid,” Hermoine scolded, then turned back to Harry, “You’re right. And it probably won’t be that easy. But, he’s gone, Harry. You killed him.”

“What happened after . . .”

“Draco.” Molly told him, “Draco used the mirror spell as soon as they had put him into his own room and contacted us. Telling us what a mediwitch told him. That you had gone to fight Voldemort. He tried to come find you himself, but the medical staff would not let him. He gave them quite a bit of trouble, from what I understand.”

“We got here after everything had finished,” Hermoine picked up the story, “And we had no idea where you were. We thought . . . you could have gone anywhere. An old muggle woman told us she had seen two walk toward the little graveyard. A man in a Halloween costume and a boy with death in his eyes. When we . . . when we got to the graveyard we saw his body and the head and . . . you were lying so still next to him. We were so afraid. I got to you first and at first I thought you weren’t breathing, but then I saw that you were and I was relieved, to say the least.”

“When we got to you, she was holding you in her arms and kissing you all over your face, telling you she loved you,” George laughed, “Viktor was very jealous. Especially since he had just purposed to her.”

“I was,” Viktor went along with the joke and nodded, “But it seemed foolish to want to beat you when you were not even awake.”

Harry laughed along with everyone else.

“You’ve been here for a week,” Katie told him, “Sleeping. We always told you that you needed to rest more. Too bad it takes something like this to make you do so.”

“And Ron?” Harry finally asked the question that had been in his mind since he woke.

“Harry . . .”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Harry demanded, turning to each of them. Every time he met someone’s eyes they looked away, “God damn it, tell me! Fine! I’ll see for myself.”

“Harry!” Molly cried when he tore himself out of her arms and jumped out of the bed. None of them stopped him as he ran toward Ron’s room. They just followed him slowly. He paused, breathing hard when he reached the door. Ron lay in the bed, as he had been for months. Nothing had changed. Harry stumbled across the room to the bed, tears blinding him. He fell to his knees next to bed and sobbed. So, Voldemort had told him the truth. There was no way to undo the spell. He stood for a moment, leaned over, dismissed the bubble charm with a thought, and pressed his lips to Ron’s gently, feeling his tears falling harder as the sweet, slightly chapped lips remained still under his. He took Ron’s hand, placed another kiss to his forehead, one last kiss to his unmoving lips.

“I love you, Ronald Weasley, now and forever.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Hermoine moved into the room as he walked away from the bed. He allowed her to take him in her arms and begin leading him from the room.

“If you love me,” a quiet voice they barely heard made them freeze, “Where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?”

Harry turned around and his mouth fell open when he couldn’t force any words. Ron’s eyes were open. His hand reached for Harry. There was a small smile on his perfect face. Harry let out a sob and ran back to the bed, taking the man he loved in his arms.

“Gently,” Ron groaned, “Gently, Harry.”

Hermoine covered her mouth in shock and sank to her knees, happy tears rolling down her cheeks as she observed the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Harry and Ron, both sitting, ran their hands over each other’s faces, as if seeing each other for the first time. The sun behind them put a halo of light around them, making them both seem almost angelic as they placed small kisses each other’s bodies. Ron to Harry’s forehead, Harry to Ron’s neck, Ron to Harry’s palm, Harry to Ron’s nose. Then, their fingers found their way into each other’s hair and time seemed to move in slow motion as they paused, their lips just a hair away from each other.

“I love you, Harry,” Ron whispered, “I’ve loved you always.”

“I love you, Ron,” Harry whispered in return, “I’ll love you forever.”

Then, their lips finally met in their first real kiss. It was slow and deep, filled with all the things they had never said to each other, but felt for so long. Hermoine felt like quite the voyeur as she sat on the floor watching them finally express their love. Hoping not to disturb the glow, she got up slowly and turned around.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ron’s voice was louder now. She turned around, Ron and Harry were both reaching for her, “Get over here!” She launched herself at them with a sob. When she was on the bed, she kissed them both briefly. So many years. So much. The three sat on the bed, their arms around each other’s shoulders, foreheads touching. From that Halloween so long ago to that moment it had always been them. The three of them there for each other always. And now they were able to hold each other again after nine months. There were tears on all of their faces, but they didn’t care.

“Now, what am I supposed to think when I find my fiancee on a bed with two men?” Viktor’s voice made them all look up.

“That you should join us?” Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows. Viktor raised an eyebrow, sighed, and nodded.

“If you insist.”

“Oh, I insist!” Hermoine laughed. Viktor laughed, crossed the room in three quick strides, sat on the bed, gave Ron and Harry fierce hugs, then took Hermoine’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply. Harry and Ron smiled at them, then leaned into each other for another kiss. The four of them were uninterrupted for just a moment before George’s voice interrupted them.

“A foursome, huh? Kinky. Nahane, want to . . .”

“No,” her serious facial expression with her playful words made them all laugh, “I’m a very jealous creature. You belong to me. But, come find a closet with me and I’ll let you tear off all my clothes.”

“Are you serious?”

“When have you ever known me to make a joke when it came to sex? Are you coming or not?”

“Coming,” George answered, then looked into the room, “I love that woman! Make excuses to Mum for us?”

“Not a chance,” Ron answered back. George crossed the room and hugged Ron close.

“I have missed you, little brother.”

“I love you, too, George. Go find the closet Nahane’s hiding in or you’ll be on the couch.”

As soon as George had disappeared everyone else seemed to flood into the room. There were more hugs and tears and Molly had to be forced to let Ron go. They made so much noise that Draco had demanded to be let out of his room and he and Charlie had joined them all. Then, there had been more hugs and tears and Molly had to be forced to let Draco go.

“Hey, Ron,” Harry murmured, as they sat on the bed, Harry behind Ron supporting him as they watched everyone they knew and loved talking and smiling as they had not since the war had started.

“Yeah?”

“Want to get married?”

“Yeah,” Ron answered, turning his face to Harry for another kiss. Harry smiled and obliged him. It couldn’t have been more perfect.