A/N: Okay, honestly, I have no idea where this came from. If you want to turn back now, I'll completely understand.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own "My Last Breath." They belong to J.K. Rowling and Evanescence respectively. No copyright infringement is intended.
Hold on to me, love.
You know I can't stay long.
All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid.
Aaah.
It was over. The battle, the war, everything. After a reign of terror enough to last a lifetime, the Boy Who Lived had finally defeated the Dark Lord. For good this time. Even while the scent of death and destruction mingled almost complacately in the air, even while the families and friends of those fallen mourned, everyone seemed to have something to celebrate.
Everyone except Ron Weasley.
For at that moment, when all took a turn for the better, his life - his very soul - had just taken a turn for the worse.
His lover lay dying in his arms.
She had been dueling Bellatrix Lestrange. While expiring infinitely in Hermione's arms on the way to St. Mungo's and suffering from the wounds he'd sustained while fighting that maniac, Neville had made her promise to "bring that crazy bitch down." After getting over the shock of hearing such language from Neville of all people, she had given him her word that she would avenge his parents for him. All of this was said before Ron could argue that he should do it, not the woman he loved.
"And me. Don't forget to avenge me, too," Neville had said with obvious effort. He had then managed a weak smile and closed his eyes for the last time.
Can you hear me?
Can you feel me in your arms?
Hermione had, understandably, been a right mess after the loss of such a close friend, and no amount of pleading or downright begging would convince her to forgo her promise to kill Bellatrix.
And so he ceased trying to change her mind. He had known her and loved her for seven years and knew that once her mind was made up there was no convincing her otherwise. All he could do was pray to God that she would make it through the encounter alive.
But God had apparently been busy elsewhere. Maybe he was the one guiding Harry's wand that night. Wherever he was, Ron didn't care. He wasn't the one place he should have been.
Merlin, to his dying day he would never forget the sight of Hermione dueling Lestrange. A silent tear trailed down his cheek as he recalled all that had come to pass; it seemed ages ago.
She was less than twenty feet away from him. In between his own battle with Lucius Malfoy, he glimpsed flashes of whirling brown, her hair a bushy hurricane as she twirled and dodged Death over and over again. She was winning, too. Merlin, she almost had her. But Lestrange hadn't risen to top ranks among Death Eaters by being beaten by eighteen year-old witches. She was smart, he'd give her that. She knew Hermione's weaknesses and she hit her where it hurt.
"Aww, wittle Muddy-bwoody," she taunted in that infuriating baby voice she had used against Harry, "how's the Weasel King doing?"
"You leave him out of this!" Hermione shouted in response, narrowly ducking an Avada Kedavra slung her way.
"Ooooh! Wooks wike I hit a nerve! Don't worry, Mudblood," she sneered, reverting back to her normal voice. "He'll fall soon enough. And you have my solemn vow that he'll suffer until he does. Heard of the Cruciatus? That's child's play compared to what I can do to him. And then the Dark Lord will kill Potty and finally your pathetic Muggle parents." She laughed, and hearing her from twenty feet away, Ron felt chills course down his spine.
"YOU LEAVE THEM ALONE, YOU HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE WOMAN!" Even from a distance, he could practically feel the hatred, no, the pure loathing radiating off her in waves. He longed to call out to her, to tell her that the psycho was lying, but as he opened his mouth he was suddenly hit in the side by a stray spell, the Fully Body Bind, if he was any judge of spell effects. As he slumped to the ground, Lucius - who apparently thought he'd finished the job - quickly ambled away, only to be struck down by Lupin who was on his way to assist Tonks in her own three-against-one battle. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately you might say, he fell in such a way that he could only hear what happened next.
"RON! RON, NO!" Hermione shrieked as she attempted to break away from her duel and make her way to him, praying that he was alright, even though at a glance he looked to be anything but. But it was not for him that she should have been praying. For this was the break Bellatrix had been looking for.
"SECTUMSEMPRA!" she screamed at Hermione's retreating form.
Holding my last breath,
Safe inside myself.
Are all my thoughts of you?
Sweet rapture and light -
It ends here tonight.
"HERMIONE! NO, NO, NO! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!" He could scream only in his mind, as he felt the effects of the curse wear strong. He felt as though it were he who had been hit by what had almost been Draco's death spell a couple of months earlier. Draco had survived, but he had had immediate help. In a battle, no one could afford to stop. No one could help her now. He continued to scream her name over and over, praying it was all a dream.
He wasn't sure how long he had been lying there, oblivious to all except the pain he felt until he heard Tonk's joyous proclamation: "It's finally over!" He vaguely remembered several screams of agony as Death Eaters all around him had burst into flames upon Riddle's demise. Apparently he'd decided to insure that his minions followed him everywhere, including to Hell. He discovered that he could move again about a second after it sunk in. He wasted no time in running to where his love had fallen, feeling his heart being annihilated at the scene before him. He had never once cried. Not when he fell off his broom and busted his head open when he was eight. Not when his Uncle Bilius, who had been one of his closest friends, was savagely murdered by Death Eaters.
But now, he sobbed as though his heart were breaking.
Which it was.
He was jolted out of his reverie by Hermione stirring in his arms. He looked down at her lovely dirt-streaked face and choked back a sob. When he'd reached her, she'd been covered in blood. She was unconscious and her breathing, though present, was shallow. Ron had yelled for help, only to be told by every Healer who'd arrived on the scene that there was nothing they could do. Malfoy had survived it, yes. But while Harry had certainly loathed Draco, he was by no means trying to kill him. Bellatrix had possessed the necessary hate. And now, after screaming at everyone within thirty feet to get the hell away from them, he could only hold her and weep as every breath fought to become her last.
I'll miss the winter,
A world with fragile things.
Look for me in the white forest hiding in a hollow tree.
Come find me.
She continued to stir for another moment before slowly lifting her lids and giving him a glimpse of her beautiful cinnamon-brown eyes. "Ron?" she whispered slowly.
"Yes, love?" he choked out, determined not to drown her in his tears.
"Is it over?"
He looked away from her questioning stare and answered a simple, "Yes."
She closed her eyes and sighed in relief, then opened them and tried to recapture his gaze.
"Ron?" she whispered again.
"What is it, love?" he said with a tremored inflection.
"I'm dying, aren't I?" The tears began to flow out of her cinnamon eyes, leaving salty trails to decorate her ashen cheeks.
What could he say? He felt as though he were dying himself. Silent convulsing sobs overtook him and he could not have answered if he'd wanted to.
She seemed to take his silence as confirmation and began to cry harder. He leaned down and held her and they wept together.
I know you hear me.
I can taste it in your tears.
A few minutes later the convulsions finally ceased and he sat up again. And nearly vomited. He was covered in blood. Hermione's blood. He shuddered involuntarily.
"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly.
"Why?" he nearly screamed. "Why should you be sorry? It's those damn Medi-witches who should be sorry! They should have done something! Anything! Instead they left you here to die, Mione!"
A hint of a smile could be seen as she replied, "Ron, you exaggerate everything." Then it was gone. "Listen to me. There is absolutely nothing they could do. That was no ordinary Sectumsempra. I studied Bellatrix's wand movements as she casted it. It was created to be unhealable." She sniffed and sighed.
"I'm so sorry, Mione."
She looked up at his tear-streaked face. "For what?"
He reached out and clasped her hand. "For not saving you. For not being the one dying instead of you!"
Her concerned expression immediately turned angry. "Don't you dare say that, Ronald Weasley! Don't you ever say that! Do you think that it wouldn't kill me anyway if you were lying here instead! Do you think I could live without you?"
"Do you think I can live without you?!" His riled expression now mirrored hers.
Her eyes instantly filled again. "I'm sorry, Ron. But please, please promise me that you won't do anything rash after... after it's all over."
He said nothing.
"Promise me, Ron!"
"I don't promise anything, Mione. I told you. I'm not going to live without you. If we can't be together in this world then, damn it, we'll be together in the next!"
She closed her eyes slowly. "I was afraid you were going to say that. Ron..." she stopped abruptly. He understood. There was simply nothing to say.
Holding my last breath,
Safe inside myself.
Are all my thoughts of you?
Sweet rapture and light -
It ends here tonight.
Once again he found himself holding his dying love in his arms. They had been like this for several minutes now. Earlier, Hermione had answered his unspoken question. To put it bluntly, why was she still alive?
"It's the way she twisted the spell," she had answered. "Of course she wanted to prolong the pain for as long as possible. In normal circumstances, I would have already bled to death." She talked as though she were a third party, not the one... "As it is... I don't think it will be long now."
What was left of his heart suddenly shattered. "No, Mione..." he whimpered into her hair.
"It's okay, Ron. I'll get to see Bill and Fleur. And Dumbledore. And... and my parents. I'll get to see my parents. It's been so long." She seemed lost in thought and Ron knew she was thinking of the long-deceased Robert and Emily Granger, two of many who perished under Voldemort's command. "So long," she repeated softly. And then, "Home," she whispered.
Closing your eyes to disappear.
You pray your dreams will leave you here.
But still you wake to know the truth:
No one's there.
Say goodnight.
Don't be afraid.
Holding me, holding me as you fade to black.
He knew the minute she had left him forever. Of the trio, Harry had been the brave one, Hermione had been the smart one. And he? He was the loyal one. He had always followed - would still follow - Harry wherever he had went, no matter the danger. He would have gladly followed Hermione as well. Into Hell, without question. And now... damn it! She'd gone to the one place where he couldn't follow.
He sobbed. For the thousandth time that night, it seemed. He cried the mournful, piecing lament of one who has lost everything.
Which he had.
(Say goodnight.)
Holding my last breath,
(Don't be afraid.)
Safe inside myself.
(Holding me, holding me)
Are all my thoughts of you?
Sweet rapture and life
(As you fade to black.)
It ends here tonight.
And then... he stopped. He looked down at the sleeping angel he held in his arms and gently kissed her lips. He laid her softly upon the ground.
He picked up his wand where he had dropped it, about a foot away, as he raced to her, his doomed love.
He laid down on the cold, soft ground and entwined his hand with that of his soul mate, his true love.
"I'm coming, Mione," he whispered.
The green light flashed.
And all was still.
Holding my last breath,
Safe inside myself.
Are all my thoughts of you?
Sweet rapture and life -
It ends here tonight
Constructive criticism is greatly appreicated.