She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette
She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
Until the night.
It was supposed to be a time for celebration. Harry Potter defeated Lord Voldemort in a hard fought battle that took place over the summer, both saving and scarring the wizard world. It had left the air clear for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to safely be reopened, and for the students to continue their education. The only thing reminiscent of the battle was memories that would forever be implanted in the minds of other, making for good stories to tell their children and for their children to tell their children's children, and the lightning bolt scar on Harry Potter's forehead.
Several witches and wizards were gathered in Three Broomsticks, laughing and carrying on with their mugs of fire whiskey and ale without a care in the world. Every once and awhile however, their attention was diverted to a scene in a small corner.
It would appear that four young, 17 year old witches and wizards were having a chat over Butter beer, having come in to seek shelter from the brisk cold outside. The scene was not uncommon in other various shops around Hogsmeade, for it was one of the days where students from Hogwarts came.
The group consisted of Harry Potter, who was well known now and could be spotted anywhere in any crowd with her raven black hair and his emerald colored eyes. A lovely little witch with brown hair going by the name of Hermione Granger, one of the Harry's good friends, she had also had a hand in defeating Voldemort. Hermione looked rather flustered, and upset, her eyes were focused on her Butter beer mug, her finger tracing the brim. Red haired Ron Weasley, who was looking particularly glassy eyed and tipsy. And lastly, a small witch with intense hazel eyes and flaxen hair. The section if bangs that fell over her left eye was colored purple. She was the witch of whose name they knew, but sometimes never got around to pronouncing it right.
Nothing was what it seemed.
"Akina," Ron slurred pushing the mug of Butter beer towards the blonde witch. "You like to drink. Why don't you have some?" Butter beer sloshed out the sides of the mug.
Akina shook her head, though she did pull the mug closer to her, farther away from Ron. "No thanks. I only drink at summer parties," Her black painted fingernails stood out against the brown colored mug as she lifted it to her lips, taking in the smallest mouthful. Spiked with vodka, just as she thought. Ron had only had a few glasses of Butter beer, and when you mix something with vodka you tend to get drunk quickly.
"All the more for me then," Ron said leaning over to jerk the mug from her hands. There was a hint of greediness in his eyes. "Why do you have to be so bloody greedy?"
"Ron, I think you've had enough." Akina stood up, reaching for the mug.
Ron pulled it out of her reach, cuddling it against her chest. "You are crazy if you think I'm going to give it to you! You drink like a fucking fish! You just want it all to yourself, but it's mine. Mine, mine, mine."
"That's enough Ron!" Harry said reaching for the mug.
"Oh don't try and play hero again," Ron snapped. "I'm starting to get tired of hearing about your greatness."
Akina winced at his words. She knew he didn't mean a word he said. He wouldn't remember any of this tomorrow. "Ron, do you think it's wise to go back to the bus drunk. You'll get in trouble with Professor McGonagall and our trips to Hogsmeade might be taken away because of lack of responsibility. You could even get Madam Rosmerta in trouble for serving alcohol to minors," Akina said.
"But she didn't serve it to me," Ron said grinning proudly. "I brought it with me. Snuck it in here."
"Ron I have had it!" Hermione exclaimed jumping up. "Everyday since the summer you've been drinking constantly! It's starting to hurt Ron, watching you like this!" She said her brown eyes brimming with tears. "This is not the Ron I fell in love with!"
"Stop being so bloody mental, Hermione," Ron snapped setting the mug back on the table with a loud thump. "You've always got to be so dramatic all the time."
"Hermione…" Akina began but she was silenced by Harry shaking his head no.
"Best to let this one play out," He said putting an arm around her waist and pulling her close.
Tears were now falling down Hermione's cheeks. Months and months of pain had finally boiled over and spilled out. "Fine!" She said grabbing the mug away from Ron fiercely. "You've got to make a decision! Me or this," She finished dumping the content of the mug all over him.
"Now look at what you've gone and done!" Ron glared up at his girlfriend. "You see Hermione, this stuff, it makes me happy."
"Well then," sniffed Hermione brushing her tears away. "I guess then we are over!" Quickly, she grabbed her coated and ran out of Three Broomsticks.
Harry and Akina stood solemn for a few moments. Akina's hand was over her mouth in shock as she met Harry's gaze. Ron was looking completely innocent, like he didn't see anything wrong with the situation, and looking particularly angry that he didn't have anything left to drink.
"I'll go after her and you get Ron," Akina said softly.
Harry nodded grabbing Akina's hand to stop her from leaving. He looked straight into her eyes. "Don't ever leave me," He said.
Akina shook her head. "I won't," She said kissing him gently on the lips before going after Hermione.
Harry took a seat next to Ron and began to clean him up. "Look mate, you've got to clean yourself up and get yourself back together."
"Harry, what am I going to do without her?" Ron dropped his hands in his lap in sorrow.
Akina found Hermione leaning against the fence of the Shrieking Shack, her head on her arms sobbing.
"Hermione," Akina coaxed gently putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.
Upon hearing her friend's voice, Hermione threw her arms around Akina as she began to sob harder. Akina just held Hermione, a few tears of her own falling down her cheeks. For long minutes, the winter air swirled around them in depressing silence.
Hermione finally lifted her head from Akina's shoulder, turning her gaze to the Shrieking Shack, drawing in a shaky sob. "Back in third year, this is where Malfoy teased me and Ron, asking us if we were shopping for our new dream home. I'd secretly hoped that one day it would come true. I never thought it would come to this." A fresh wave of tears started to make its way down her cheeks.
Akina settled into a gentle swaying motion as she held her heartbroken friend close, deciding after a few minutes that it would be best to usher her back to the bus.
He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away her memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees
We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said I'll love her till I die
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby
"I love her till I die," where the words Ron wrote on a small piece of parchment, the scratching of the quill tip seemed to echo in his ears. When he placed the quill down on the arm of the couch, he glanced into the dying Common Room fire. The gun on his lap seemed to grow heavier with each passing second.
This was it for him. He'd lost the one being that had met so much to him. Hermione had been right, though she hadn't directly announced it. He was nothing but a drunk, drowning himself to his own fate. He'd belittled her, insulted her, and chose whiskey over her as his source of happiness. He didn't see why she had stayed with him for so long.
"I'm sorry," He whispered softly.
Ron placed the note on the pillow. The single shot was muffled.
The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath
She finally drank her pain away a little at a time
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind
Until the night
Akina was the first to find him dead face down on the pillow. Harry stopped dead in his tracks, not being able to fully absorb that fact that his best mate was laying dead on the couch in the Common Room.
Trembling, Akina turned to Harry, her hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes. "Get Hermione quick. Keep her from coming down here," She whispered.
They heard a little squeak, which turned into a full scream from behind them. It was too late. Hermione was standing on the landing. She had to grip the stair case railing to keep from falling. This possibly couldn't be real. Any moment she would wake up in her bed and it would all be a dream.
Unfortunately for her, it was very real. Professor McGonagall was fetched, and the days' classes cancelled. An owl was sent to notify the Weasley family. Hermione rarely spoke, other than just to tell Professor McGonagall that Ron would've wanted to be buried underneath the willow tree that they had first kissed under.
She stood in between Harry and Akina, not daring to look up at the gravestone that marked Ron's grave. She was quiet during the funeral; the only noise that could be heard was the occasional sob from Molly Weasley. Arthur slipped a comforting arm around his wife, though a sorrow such as this one could not be eased. A mother should never have to bury her child.
A warm breeze blew through the trees, and Akina could swear she heard a soft, sad melody riding on the wind.
She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away his memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees
We found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life
We laid her next to him beneath the willow
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby
Hermione was a zombie for the rest of her seventh year. She graduated at the top of her class at Hogwarts. She couldn't enjoy the honor. She felt like she was at a stand still in her life, like she was standing in the background, watching everyone whirl by her getting on with their lives, being happy. The one being that made her happy was lying buried in the ground, never to take a breath of life again.
Shortly after Harry achieved his goal of becoming an Auror, he purposed to Akina and they moved into a small, three bedroom apartment flat. Knowing that they had a room available, they invited Hermione to move in with them. Hermione took them up on the offer, thinking it would be nice to be around loved ones.
She never was the same after Ron has committed suicide. When she talked about it, they always told her not to blame herself. But she never would stop blaming herself. If she hadn't told him it was over, he would still be alive. She could've helped him through his problem and they could've had a life together. Hermione was so angry at herself. What kind of a person was she? She hadn't left Harry's side during his battle with Voldemort, but she'd left Ron whenever he'd needed it most.
Strangely enough, Hermione found solace in the very thing that Ron had. She stowed the empty whiskey bottles under her bed, hiding them from Akina and Harry's eyes, though neither of them were blind to it. She got mad and snapped at them when they advised her to get help.
Just like Ron had.
Hermione had kept the note that they'd found with Ron's body. She'd stuck it in the corner of her favorite photograph of them together. Each day, it was getting harder and harder to look at it. There had been such life, and happiness shining through both of them. Now he was gone, having taken Hermione's soul with him to the grave, leaving her to be nothing but a corpse now. Soulless.
She waited until she heard the door of the flat shut behind her. Harry was taking Akina to dinner. They had invited Hermione to come along, but she'd refused.
"I'm sorry," She whispered.
Hermione hugged Ron's picture to her chest. The single shot was muffled.
Author's Note: I was so sad when I wrote this fic, but it matches my mood. The song I used is Whiskey Lullaby by Brad Paisley ft. Alison Krauss. It adds effect to the fic if you listen to the song while you read it. R/R please?