They hold hands, their cold fingers grasping at something living. Not like the body in the coffin. Why? they wonder, moving closer against the wind. It shouldn't be this cold, it feels like winter but it's only June. Numb. That's all she can feel- cold heart, silent mind, and she's reaching out to any kind of proof that the world hasn't shattered.

It has, though. If all was well they wouldn't be ignoring the gently buzzing voice of the tufty-haired wizard, wouldn't be praying that they might wake from this nightmare.

The rain falls slowly out of respect for the mother and sister holding each other close as they stare down at the boy who was never the best or the brightest. But he was theirs, and now. Now he's gone, gone the way his brother went, and it's heartache without end for those left behind.

Now it's silent, and they, still holding hands, still forcing back the tears they musn't shed, move together. Away. They've spent too much time alone to be with the others.

Not alone. With him. But.

He releases her hand, and goes to the mother and sister, their crimson hair mingling, and tries to say goodbye. Just for now. Another goodbye and he hopes he can survive this one. But she who held his heart can't. She can't look up, only down, down at the brother she loved best, can't think of anything but loss and it's too much and she can't.

And so they leave in silence, their hands meeting like magnets and they can't let go.

Home. Silent, and it's easier to not think. Easier still to fall, the sky's tears falling from their robes to the faded carpet, and they let lose the mindless grief.

It shouldn't be this way. They survived, didn't they? No, she supposes, they didn't, and now her eyes are dry.

The fire bursts into life, vivid and burning and so very alive and all he can think is that there's someone who isn't. And reaches his hand out to feel something, anything, even if it's only pain.

But her hand catches his. She's spent her life taking care of her boys, and even though there's only one left she can't stop. She must save one of them, or she'll lose herself too.

Home doesn't feel that way anymore. It's been empty for too long and now the emptiness feeds on their grief but there's no where left to turn but to each other.

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It was Bellatrix, of course. Molly Weasley was wrong when she vowed that that bitch wouldn't touch her children again, even if the Death Eater cast the curse endless minutes before her death. And there was nothing to be done but to wait for the bitter end. It took too long and not long enough.

Death came with the sunrise, and with his final breath the dying boy thanked the two who had been by his side through fire and water until the end of all things. The girl who loved pressed a kiss to thin burning lips, and the boy who still lived blamed himself that there would never be a little girl with bushy red hair and bright blue eyes. And then he was gone. No sense of an angel taking flight, no whisper of a soul soaring into infinity.

Just a sigh, and then the eyes that once expressed a world of emotions grew cold, and the two realized that no one else got to say goodbye to Ron but them, and it wasn't fair.

Fuck fair.

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Harry tries, and tries, to return to his second home and the makeshift family, his home and family, but he can't. And so she stays with him, because she can't either. She wants her mother, and Harry finds her sobbing on the floor where she had once dreamt of a happy ending while holding a different hand, and he smiles a bitter smile that now he can take care of her, just like he would have his sister, and he wishes things were different. Maybe she wouldn't be so lifeless. If she loved anyone else. But.

Living gets harder and harder, and they don't know why, but in a world where best friends can die nothing makes sense and they knew that to question anything is a waste of energy they don't have anymore.

Friends drop in, uninvited, and ask inane questions, and even the others can't breathe in the emptiness, and then they are alone again. Alone together.

She thinks she's alone when she makes her way to Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest and she tries, and tries, to find the way to make the world right again, and he finds her and carries her home and knows that he'll be damned if he loses her too.

While he wraps and unwraps her shivering body, praying that he won't have to bring someone else into his bedroom, he discovers that there is only one loss left that can break him, and it sure as hell isn't the girl he thought he had loved. Love. No. That wasn't love, not really, not like this vast emptiness that only she can fill now. But.

Rain falls from angry clouds, and she's burning and freezing and she isn't herself. From the depths of her soul she screams: Harry.

And, for the first time- hope.

The sun is rising somewhere behind the sky, and Hermione wakes up in Harry's arms, and when she laughs he wakes up, afraid she's slipping away from him but no.

She reaches out to straighten the glasses she hates and whispers that no fair, this bed is softer than hers. And they smile, and hate themselves for smiling, but when their lips meet they forget about loss and grief and she's like my sister and past and future sins and together they find a way to fill the emptiness and the silence and it is good.

And he whispers that their son will be Ron and he kisses away her tears.