I own none of the characters below, sadly enough. All goes to the genius J.K. Rowling. :]
"Hermione! There you are! We've been looking for you EVERYWHERE!" Ron yelled. "Come on, you're missing the parties downstairs."
"Celebrating what, Ronald?" Hermione asked wearily.
"The end of the war, darling!" Ron replied.
"Well isn't that just fantastic for you," she replied coldly. Wind ripped through the Astronomy Tower, chilling Ron to the bone. Hermione was still haunted by the smell of charred flesh on the wind.
"Mione, are you alright? Why aren't you happy? You Know Who is-" Ron asked.
"I heard you before, Ronald. I know Voldemort is dead," Hermione cut in. Ron moved closer to her.
"So why aren't you down celebrating with us? This is a great thing! The war is finally over, and we've won! You Know Who is gone forever this time!" Ron continued, "We can get married now. We can start a family and not have to worry about their safety. It'll be grand, just like we've always wanted." Hermione turned to look at him, eyes cold as steel.
"You keep saying we. I don't recall ever giving you my hand. I knew that you were daft, but I never realized that you were THIS damaged in the head. There is no "We". There never will be," she hissed.
"But, we kissed. We made love. Did that mean nothing to you?" Ron asked.
"Correction, YOU dragged me into a room sobbing. YOU were the one seeking comfort. YOU were the one who initiated everything, that believed there was something there other than pity. We were in the middle of a WAR. A war," she replied icily.
"Mione, what's gotten into you? You're rejecting us, you aren't celebrating the end of the war…" Ron's voice trailed off, hurt in his eyes.
"The end of the war?" Hermione asked sweetly. Ron looked perplexed at the sudden change in emotion. He moved even closer to her.
"Yes, of course! He who must not be named is dead! You saw Harry deliver the final blow yourself, lovely."
"Oh, that!" Hermione looked positively cheerful now. "Yes, yes! I remember that quite well!" Ron drew near to embrace her.
"I'm so glad you're alright!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, yes. I'm perfectly alright!" Hermione said cheerfully. "Voldemort's dead, darling. He's dead. I remember it well." She laughed. "But you know what?" Ron looked at her.
"What, my dear?"
"This war isn't over," she told him, smile growing cold. Ron's grin slipped. "Even YOU should be able to see that."
"Mione, I don't understand," Ron whispered, his features contorted.
"Of course you don't. You never will," Hermione replied. "So I'll try to make you understand." Hermione moved away from him to stand at the balcony of the tower.
"Voldemort is dead, and we are alive. How bloody wonderful. But look around you. In case you hadn't noticed, dozens, maybe even hundreds, of people are dead, too. Even more are still alive." Ron looked even more confused now. "People we sat with in classes with every day will never again join us. Children will never again see their parents, and vice versa. People are dead, their flesh cold and lifeless. Their families sit around their graves right now in mourning. Entire families were buried, because of this war. There is no one to mourn for them. So while those few mourn, the rest of us are getting sloshed and laid and are 'celebrating' our victory."
"But we DID win…You Know Who's dead…he's dead…" Ron interjected feebly. Hermione's voice held the edge of a razor when she spoke next.
"And so are many more. Did you know that Hannah Abbott is pregnant? No, of course you didn't. Her child will grow up without a father. And Hannah herself will have to live with the memory of watching Ernie fall to a curse at the hands of a Death Eater. And then look at Teddy Lupin. Both his mum and his dad are dead. He'll never know them. He'll never know how much they loved him, how much they gave for him. Then there are people who didn't lose anything at all. The war is over for them, it will be a distant memory soon. But for people like Hannah and Teddy, the war will never be over. It will never be over for me, or you. Or have you forgotten about Fred already? He's lying in a grave, too," she told him coldly.
"D-don't say that. I DO care…I…I…DON'T SAY THAT I DON'T CARE," Ron choked out.
"Ginny sits in my room and cries for hours at a time. Your mother can't even look at George anymore, and he himself is lost. Your father never comes home, Percy is going crazy, Charlie only talks to dragons, and Bill stares out at the ocean all day. You, on the other hand, go to parties. You get drunk, you get laid. You still are alive. But some of us have lost everything. Like your mother. Or the Longbottoms. They've been crazy since the FIRST war against Voldemort, and they are STILL fighting that battle. Neville is losing it, too." Hermione stared at Ron, daring him to say something.
"Dumbledore used to say that…" Hermione cut him off.
"Dumbledore is dead. He's been dead for over a year now, dammit. The dead have nothing to do with the living. Anything he might have said at one time is useless to you now. Only the living can do anything now, and there are so few left."
"Hermione, stop with this crazy talk," Ron pleaded. "Come with me, we'll get you help."
"I don't need help, Ronald," Hermione interjected. "We're all dying to live now. That's what the war was, and still is, all about."
"Then come with me and we'll live," he begged.
"You really are that stupid?" she asked him. "Have you even LOOKED at me? Truly looked at me? If you had, you would have seen the same thing that is in your mother's eyes and in your sister's eyes. You would have seen that there is no longer any life in them. YOU may have won the war, but we've all lost. We're casualties, just like Ernie and Tonks and Remus and everyone else that died."
"Hermione, stop saying these things," Ron cried. "You're still alive, you're just hurting…" Hermione inched closer to the rails. "Stop, just stop it, Hermione!" She planted her hands on the rails.
"No, Ronald. I've given up. I can no longer fight. I've lost the war."
"But-…" Ron started to say.
"I'm already dead, Ron. You can go celebrate your victory now."
"HERMIONE!" Ron screeched, as she vaulted over the rail.
"I'll see you in hell, Ronald. You cannot win this war." Those words would echo in his mind for the rest of his days, a constant reminder that war was eternal.
Thanks, Caprice darling, for betaing...again... :]