Beep - beep - beep. The heart monitor was teasing him, reminding him that the time was running out. And quickly. But then again, every beep signalled another second. Another heartbeat. Just another second before the rest of his life. But what kind of life? When the monitor stopped its steady beeping, it would be over. The months of ups and downs. The medication. The late night rushes to the hospital. Her life. It was too soon. They'd made it through, they'd lived when they shouldn't have. Both of them. But life just wasn't that kind. Beep - beep - beep.

Her eyelids flickered and opened, her eyes meeting his.

Beep

"Hi." She smiled weakly. No longer the wide, open smile that showed off the front teeth that had been altered by Madam Pomfrey; this smile was reserved, closed.

Beep

"Hi." He reached out and took her skeleton-like hand. "How are you?"

"It hurts." She closed her eyes and when the monitor skipped a beat, so did Ron's heart. It fell a thousand miles in the blink of an eye and he felt sick. He'd lost her. He'd lost his chance to tell her what he'd wanted. Then:

Beep

And her eyes opened again.

"Oh thank…" He breathed in sharply. "I love you Hermione."

Beep

"I love you too." She smiled again. Her new smile was growing on him.

Beep

"We lost so much time."

Beep

"What're you talking about?"

Beep

"All those years. At Hogwarts. I mean. We could've had so much more time together."

Beep

"Why is - you've never - where is this coming from?"

Beep

"I didn't think it'd matter. A year here or there, what would it matter when we were old? We'd laugh about it." He bit his lip. "How young and silly we were."

Beep

"You still will."

Beep

"You won't be there."

Beep

"You'll have Harry, and Ginny. And your brothers." She closed her hand around his.

Beep

"Your parents were here earlier." He changed the subject, he wasn't ready to imagine a life, a world, without her. Not yet. "They'd come back later."

Beep

Hermione nodded calmly.

Beep

"I'm sorry."

Beep

"For what?"

Beep

"For being a pain in the ass."

Beep

Beep

"Stop talking about the past, I could be dead in a matter of hours… make me up a future."

"I…I don't want to."

Beep

Beep

"Why?"

"Because…I know it won't be real. It will never be real. You won't be there. You won't be real."

"Ronald," she said softly, rubbing his hand. "Please."

"Okay…er…We'd get married. A September Sunday, in that little church where your parents got married. And everyone we loved would be there, and they'd cry. And you'd look more beautiful than you've ever done as you walked down the aisle. The church would be filled with autumn leaves and flowers. Everywhere. Along the aisle, in the ceiling, on the walls. Then we'd have the reception in a tent, like Bill and Fleur had, and it'd be full of light and laughter and your parents would hold toasts, and the nieces and nephews would run around and laugh, and hide under the tables. But no one would mind. And we'd dance, long after everyone had left, or fallen asleep. I'd spin you around on the dance floor, and you'd wonder when I learnt to dance." He paused. Hermione's eyes glistened with tears. "Are you alright?"

"It's beautiful. You've really thought about this." Beep

"Of course I have." He leaned forward and stroke a wet curl of hair from her face. "You're the love of my life, Hermione."

"What then?" She dried her eyes with the back of her hand.

Beep

"Well, we'd move to that town by the water, the one we stopped in on the way to your parents. And we would have a cottage, up on the hill, with an extra room, where our parents could stay when they came to visit. And a cat, with a little kittie door so it could hunt mice in the grass. Then, we'd have two kids. Rose, after your nana, and -"

Beep

"And Artur," Hermione added, smiling. "If my family's getting a name, so is yours. That's only fair."

"Yeah." Ron was caught of guard. "I s'ppose so."

Beep

"More?"

"Er…of course. They'd be best friends, and have lots of cousins, and we'd be at the burrow for Sunday dinner and they'd all play Quidditch in the garden together. Then, when they went of to Hogwarts, you'd cry, and I'd cry even more."

Hermione chuckled again, drying her eyes.

"And every break when they came home, they'd rush into the house, and after five minutes, it'd have been like they never left. I'd bake, and you'd sit and read in front of the fireplace, or on the pateo. We'd eat together, and they'd talk over each other, telling us about everything they'd been up to at Hogwarts. All the mischief." He smiled and rubbed Hermione's hand. "They'd move out, and the house would be quiet. So we'd get a dog, a large one that we could go on walks with and it'd run across the moors. Then the kids would get married, and have kids. And we'd love our grandkids as much as our parents would love our kids. And we'd be having Sunday dinners at our place and get to see our grandkids grow up, maybe even meet a great grandchild or two, until, after a long and happy life, we'd pass away peacefully in our sleep. And those who were left would be sad, of course, and they'd miss us. But they would know we had finished our business because to the well organised mind, death is nothing but the next great adventure."

"Did you just quote Dumbledore?" Hermione raised her eyebrows and chuckled slightly, and it was almost like having the old, bubbly, argumentative, Hermione back.

"I guess so."

Beep

He'd forgotten about the monitor, about the hospital bed, about the inevitable.

Hermione drew in a sharp breath and a quiet sob escaped.

Beep

"Hermione!" He leaned forward, grasping her hand. "What's wrong."

"That's how it was supposed to be." The words caught in her throat. "It shouldn't end like this."

Beep

He rubbed her hand and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

Beep

"Maybe it won't." He'd dared to speak the possibility.

"Hope is the last thing that leaves you."

"Look, now you're even lecturing me about things I don't understand."

She wanted to smile, he knew it.

"I'm not crazy, am I?"

"I think you are. You know, there are only like…2% that even survive."

"Well there you have it. You're always the top two percent. Well, except in quidditch I mean, but this isn't Quidditch."

"Ron…please don't. I…I can't get my hope up…not again."

She leaned back in the hospital bed.

Beep

Beep

"Okay, I won't."

She nodded.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too."

Her eyes closed slowly. Every time, they seemed to get slower. Like even her eyelids knew. They knew it would be over. That one day soon they wouldn't open again, and that'd be the end.