disclaimer/ I do not own Harry Potter or any other charracters. Please don't sue.
Waiting a little longer
The door opens and she looks up with a hopeful expression, that dissipates as once again when it is not the boy who lived that has re-entered her world. The figure is Ron of course, and she sighs a bitter consent as he sits beside her on the faded bed. She does not even know why she looks for him any more, because in all honestly what little hope there was of him returning has past as the months have until now she is sure they are the only ones still waiting.
Ron has nothing to say past a pale face and shadowed eyes, caught in his own kind of morning. He has already excepted what she cannot, that he is gone, but is unable to move on until she does. She finds she cares little, any energy or feeling she posses now is taking by hoping, begging, preying. A silent dream that goes beyond her sleep.
But Ron is still waiting for her, even though they both pretend he is not, and she is waiting on the impossible, she is waiting for Harry to come walking through that door again. For him to smile that easy smile that used to make her knees weak, and laugh and say it was all just a big joke, and that he never died or disappeared or vanished. She would even forgive him for scaring her because she is just so happy that he is alive and safe in front of her, and because finally everything is alright again. Everything is fine with him holding her and promising never to leave again.
"Hermione"
Ron's voice is tired and rings unwanted in her head.
"what!" She is angry that he has interrupted her daydream, even though she knows it will not happen because Harry would never do that to anyone, especially them. But that thought is cold because it means Harry has not returned because he is simply unable to. And she will not think like that. Not now.
"Hermione, it's been over four months." the words are hard, though they are spoken genitally, and send chills of truth of truth through her.
"He'll come back Ron. I Know he will" her voice is uncertain and the words sound false even to her own ears, but she ignores it. He's coming back she tells herself firmly he always comes back.
Ron sighs and looks more tired than ever. His eyes catch hers and they are pleading. Please Herms, don't do this, please I need you, I need you to get through this, I can't be strong forever, i can't wait much longer. But the words are silent, for he cannot or will not say them, and for a moment she almost lets go, almost gives up and grabs Ron and tells him that they'll get through this somehow. But then her heart hardens to him again and she firms her resolve. I'm not ready, not just yet, please let me hope a little longer.
"He's coming back Ron, I promise, he has too." even she admits her voice sounds desperate
"he has to."
Ron nods, dumbly, and his face is suddenly blank. He has realised what she has known all along, they will never survive losing him. He is what kept them together and they both know it. And it is a cold kind of breaking that passes between their eyes.
"goodbye Herms"
"see you tomorrow, Ron" the words are as empty as her dreams, but just as necessary as he slowly walks away. As long as there are empty words and dreams there are no tears, and she can pretend her heart is whole for a little longer.
She dose not know why she is being so stubborn, why she does not except the inevitable, and make new dreams. Perhaps it is because she misses him so, and because she wants to think theirs hope for them after all. The door closes. And she lies down again. Hoping, begging, preying.
Waiting.