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Great sobs wracked her narrow shoulders. Her doe brown eyes pressed and hidden behind her hands where shimmering tears now spilled. Bushy brown hair pulled back in an attempt to control the tangle now leapt lose from its bonds, dancing down around her face and hands.
Harry had to fight off his own tears. He touched her back gently, trying to convey comfort through his fingertips. "Hermione…" he murmured, managing to keep his voice steady. Suddenly she was clinging to him. Her arms trembled where she'd laced them around his neck. He could feel her hot tears soaking into his shoulder.
Her full, round belly was pressed between them and the baby, Ron's baby, was kicking a restless drumbeat against Harry's chest. It was as if the unborn child knew already of the calamity.
The clouds covered the full moon, jealously hiding her face from the world. There was the lingering threat of rain, but only the wind tickled the pink noses of passersby who braved the cold.
It was a typical Thursday. Boy's night at the Leaky Caldron. Harry, Neville, George, and Ron nursed their drinks while joking and chattering about their wives, their jobs, and generally nothing of consequence. A hag glared at anyone who would look her way, apparently cursing the pub in general for its rambunctious occupants, and toothless old Tom, who never seemed to change, cheerfully polished glasses behind the bar.
Suddenly the chill night air was rent apart by an earsplitting scream. The young men leapt to their feet as one, the smiles wiped cleanly from their faces.
"Stay here." Harry said, his voice commanding as he waved at Tom and the others in the bar to remain in relative safety while he went to discover the reason for the scream.
Before he could take one step towards the back alley that led to the wizarding world, someone appeared, blocking the doorway. His face was pale, marred by a mask of anger and hatred.
A ruckus immediately took up from where the man had entered.
"What's going on?"
"What's happened?"
"Is everything alright?" Harry, George and Neville spoke at the same instant. Without an answer, the wizard raised his wand, his reflexes those of a striking snake. He made a quick slashing movement, still not speaking a word, and a bright light exploded from the tip of his wand. As he moved, a slight, evil smirk began to pull up at the corners of his mouth, causing a ghastly scar to stretch through his lips and chin.
Before Harry or the others had time to think, Ron was pushing his friends back, pushing himself before the danger. Neville, not expecting the sudden push, flew backwards skidding across a table and into the wall. Harry stumbled backwards, tripping over George and falling to his backside bringing the redhead down with him.
The light from the spell was blinding as it spread out where Harry had been standing only seconds before. Harry felt himself flying through the air and he covered his head protectively with his arms. The building seemed to be rending itself apart from the very foundation. "Get everyone out!" someone cried desperately. Looking back, Harry thought it sounded curiously like Ron's voice.
Stones from the ceiling began to crumble onto their heads. The confused rush to escape left Harry separated from the others.
His head throbbed, but still he pressed through the throng of muggles gathered about the spectacle. It sounded as if someone had called the police. Distant sirens blared closer.
"Neville! George!" Harry cried, breathlessly jubilant to have found them at last. "What the hell happened?"
"I dunno," George replied, shaking his head, "Couldn't see anything after the blast."
Neville appeared to shaken to speak. It was a fear that hadn't plagued him in over fifteen years. When he found his voice, it was to utter a single word. It was a whisper, so soft that Harry had to lean closer in order to hear.
"Ron..."
Once the muggles and their authorities had been cleared away, it was possible to access the smoking ruins of the Leaky Caldron. Miraculously, the buildings to either side of the tiny pub were unharmed.
Neville had been the only one to see the blast of light catch Ron squarely in the chest. That contact had been the cause of the explosion. The body of the scarred wizard hadn't been found.
He didn't notice the tears silently tracing wet trails down his cheeks to disappear gently into Hermione's hair. The fault rested heavily on his shoulders, and yet Hermione hadn't seemed to realize this truth.
"H-Harry…" she moaned, her shoulders shaking harder, "W-what do I do without him??"