A/N: This is a one-shot unless people decide that they want me to continue with it. I enjoy reviews but am not going to base how I write off of them. I don't enjoy flames but will accept them from the people who can't think of anything intelligent to write.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters, places, things, and ideas belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is the plot.

To Walk With You Once Again

Hermione sat in her room at her house thinking about everything that had happened. Harry had faced Voldemort and lost. She had lost her best friend all because he had told her that he was going to visit Remus and Tonks. He had lied to her and she had believed the pathetic excuse.

When Ron found out he couldn't handle it. He had jumped from the Astronomy Tower. Hermione had been the one to find him, his body broken, twisted, crushed. The tears she cried over Harry couldn't compare with the ones that were shed over Ron. Whether it was the fact that he wrote in his last letter that he loved her, or the fact that she was the one who found him, she didn't know. He was like a brother to her, and the fact that he loved her when she didn't love him like that crushed her.

After they both left her she walked around like a zombie. Her grades fell and she had breakdowns in the middle of class. She refused to eat, as the Great Hall reminded her of them. Her health started declining and no one knew how to help her. She was killing herself slowly without even realizing it.

Even Draco Malfoy, the pureblood prince, tried to help her. He stopped calling her mudblood and even told her that she was worthy of his time. They had started hanging out, if you could call it that. Malfoy, being his usual self, would brag about his father's "great" works that month, and about how every girl wanted him.

As he would talk, Hermione would daydream, thinking about what Harry, Ron and she would be doing right now if they were alive.

She would think of how she would have greeted them with a smile in the common room before they would go to breakfast. Harry would sit on one side of her while Ron would sit on the other. Harry would start a conversation on Quidditch, and Ron would reply even while he was in the process of wolfing down his eggs. She would have just sat in the middle, a small smile on her face. They would all leave at Hermione's prompting. They would go to their classes and follow the same routine at lunch.

After dinner they would sit together in the common room. Hermione would be working on her homework while Ron and Harry would be playing a game of Wizard Chess or Exploding Snap. After a couple of games they would have asked Hermione if they could look at her homework, and she would refuse, telling them she wouldn't help them to cheat. But as always she would help them to the point where she practically did all of it herself. After they had finished their homework she would kiss both of them on the cheek, causing them to blush. They would go their separate ways until the next morning.

These were the thoughts that caused Hermione to have breakdowns during class. It would start out where she just had a couple of tears in her eyes, but it would escalate to the point where she would scream, asking why it had to be Harry and Ron. She would scream about how it should have been her. About how they were needed more in the wizarding world then her. Eventually a professor would get someone to take her to Madame Pomfrey until she had calmed down.

The train ride at the end of the year was the hardest for her. She sat in a compartment by herself, occasionally talking to the people who came to try to comfort her. When she got off the train she turned around expecting them to be behind her to tell her goodbye and that they would write.

Hermione sat in her room at her house thinking about everything that had happened. She sat in her room crying and reading over the old letter's they had sent her. Finally she grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment.

To everyone that ever cared,

I feel lost. A girl walking through life, wanting more, having nothing. I lost my two best friends, my brothers. I walk through each day, stopping to think at every moment, what if they were here? What if I had been there to help Harry? Would he still be alive? What if I was there when Ron killed himself? Could I have saved him? What if I had never met them? Would that have saved them? As I sit here I realize that so many different things could have changed this outcome, so many things could have been different. But it is too late to go back and change anything. Too late for me to save them. I loved them, still do. And now I think I will join them, talk and walk with them. Maybe that will save me from the cruel world.

Thank you for caring about a girl who couldn't care for herself.

Hermione

She quickly read over her letter and placed it on the bedside table. Crying, she put her head on her pillow falling asleep.

In her dream Harry and Ron where there. Harry, apologizing for lying to her, and telling her that he couldn't bear to take her with him, that he didn't want her to have had the chance of dying. Ron telling her that he had made a mistake, that as much as he loved her he couldn't take the pain. Both were asking her how she could stand to be around the bouncing white ferret.

All throughout the night she walked with them, Ron holding her left hand, Harry her right.

When she woke up the next morning she felt as if she could move on with her life. She would always remember them, but she wouldn't let their deaths rule her life. They had told her that they didn't want her to forget them, but that they wanted her to move on.

And she would.