The Wondrous World

Always

A/N: Its quite a feel writing Harry Potter fanfictions. Here's my first one-shot where Harry opens up to Ron and Hermione about how thankful he is that they were with him.

"And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

*******

Breathing easy for the first time in days, Harry climbed down the stairs and walked groggily. All he could see was the four poster-bed lying there in his dormitory inviting him to sleep and Harry was sure the other two felt the same as they too hadn't slept the entire night. They walked upstairs to their respective dormitories. Their heads hit the bed and they were asleep. The war seemed ages ago when Harry awoke the next morning after a solid 24 hours sleep. He found Ron still sleeping. He looked at Ron, whose face seemed to be swimming in grief even in his sleep. Harry stroked his hair and unable to stand there any longer he climbed down to the common room. It was empty and the only noise was the crackling of fire in the fireplace. He sat there for some time, then picked up a parchment and a quill, left a note for both Ron and Hermoine, and went out to the banks of the lake.

The lake glistened in the sunlight, that seemed so welcoming, but strangely Harry felt a deep chasm in his chest, just like the one he'd felt when Sirius vanished into the veil, not for once, but forever. He stared across the lake wondering so many things, hard things that had happened to him and to those around him, although he fought against them. He wanted them- the two souls who had trusted him, been with him through all ordeals and above all supported him through his tough times. After what seemed ages, he felt two heavy figures sit down on the ground, on either side of him. He looked at Ron, who was pain-stricken, yet who had come to meet Harry.

"Hey Harry, you've finally conquered him. Oh Harry! you did it!"

"Blimey yes mate.!!" said Ron, who seemed so unnaturally cheerful, his attempts to hide his own grief were not unnoticed by Harry and Hermoine.

"Yeah true, but never without your help"

"Come on Harry. You handled Quirrel, the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, you got through the Triward Tournament, and now you've vanquished Voldemort himself" said Hermoine so gleefully that Harry cast a sideways look at her, but she seemed as though she was determinedly not looking at him.

"Never without help" Harry said again, with a tiny trace of firmness.

"Harry! You did it all by yourself Harry. Maybe yes, Cedric hinted you for the second task. But other than that you did it all by yourself!"

"Did I?" he said, looking at Ron, realizing that he hadn't told them yet, the truth about the Gillyweed. The very thought made him want to explode. Everything was coming back to him. Dobby had helped him with the Gillyweed by stealing it from Snape's office. That squeaky little elf, whose tennis ball-like eyes bulged with excitement whenever Harry uttered a kind word to him, the elf who was always ready to do anything, any kind of help for him and for his friends, the same elf who on Aberforth Dumbledore's words, had come to rescue him and his friends from Malfoy Manor. The pictures by the Shell Cottage came back to him like high-quality photographs of the Muggle World. Dobby had the silver knife driven into his chest, he had collapsed in Harry's hands and died there with Harry's name as his last words. Tears threatened to overflow into his eyes, but he shrugged them away before either of them could notice.

"Dobby" said Harry quietly

"What?" said Ron and Hermoine in chorus.

"Dobby was the one that gave me the Gillyweed minutes before the second task."