'I won't let the tears fall, again,' Ron told himself for the millionth time. All alone in his flat in London, who could blame him for continuing to think about the way she used to love him? She'd been gone three weeks, but each hour was another lifetime of pain.
"Merlin damn it all!" he screamed as he punched his pillow. He beat it with his fists until he was so tired he collapsed onto his bed. As he waited for sleep to come over him, his mind wandered through various memories.
:::Start Memories:::
"I'll kill him!" I shouted as I saw my blood stained sheets and three ginger hairs.
"What happened, Ron?" Harry looked concerned.
"That monster ate Scabbers!"
All the rage came back to me as I recalled that incident. But not for Crookshanks…Oh no, you see, I was enraged by Scabbers himself. He was an animagus. He had stayed a rat for more than twelve years. I let him sleep in my bed. The thought still disgusts me.
But I thought of that because of how bad I made Hermione feel. If I could take it back, I would. Anything I had ever done to take away her smile; anything that made her feel bad; I would erase it all and leave the happy memories. Sadly, I couldn't even apologize fully for all of those ill times. I then started to think about another memory.
"Ron, have you seen Hermione?" Harry had asked me. It was our fourth year, and we were at the Yule Ball.
"No. You?" Of course, I had seen her. How could I not? She had looked like an angel with her light blue robes and million dollar smile. That smile had been for Vicky, though. Even the mere thought of him still boils my blood. A seventeen year old with a fourteen year old. There's something not right about that, even if it was anyone else. The hairs at the back of my neck had bristled when I saw Vicky holding Hermione's hand. A growl had resounded low in my throat even though I was trying to ignore it.
The scene blurred and I was in the Department of Mysteries. My brain was slightly addled by the brain's tentacles, but that didn't stop the insane panic that had swept over me as I saw Hermione not moving. "She's gonna wake up, right, Harry?" I asked and then giggled maniacally.
Events from our sixth and seventh year swirled about my head in chronological order until I came to the end of our seventh year.
"Ron…" Hermione murmured. We were in the shadows, waiting for Harry's signal before we entered the fray happening around us.
"What?" I snapped. What could she possibly want at a time like this?
"Whatever happens out there…" she stuttered.
"Just say it, Hermione." What she was trying to say was beyond me.
"It's sort of hard to say it, Ron." She paused as she looked straight at my face. "Whatever happens out there, I want you to know…" My eyes widened in surprise as she moved in to kiss me.
It was just a peck, but it was enough.
We got the signal from Harry and me and Hermione dueled a bunch of big, bad death-eaters while Harry destroyed Voldemort. How he did it, I couldn't say. The three of us had walked away from the scene, me and Hermione holding hands.
The next few days were heaven, knowing that Hermione loved me the way I'd loved her since our third year. About a week after Voldemort being gone, I proposed to her. Her eyes lit up as she laughed a joyful "yes," and jumped up to hug me.
The day after, we get a call from Harry. He needed help capturing Malfoy. But the bloody ferret set a trap. What happened exactly was a blur. The only clear thing I remember was seeing a cold, lifeless Hermione fall to the floor.
I ran to her, not willing to believe her dead. "Hermione?" I called softly, stroking her curly hair. She was going to awaken any minute; I knew it. She'd wake up with a mischievous glint in her eyes and say "August Idiots!" or something like that.
But she never woke up. I'm still waiting for her to look at me again with those deep, brown eyes filled with love.
:::End Memories:::
Ron fell asleep that night thinking about Hermione. An hour into his slumber, he dreamt.
"Ron?" a familiar voice whispered into my ear.
I opened my eyes to see white clouds around me. Then I felt soft lips press against mine.
"Hermione…" I tried to say, but she put her finger to my lips.
"Don't talk, Ron. Let's just be together for now."
I didn't say anything more, and I let the dream surround me more fully than any dream I had had before. I felt her love; let her feel mine. I kissed her as I thought, 'Sooner or later, I'll return to reality, and I'll never see her, again.'
Ron didn't stir when his front door blasted open. He didn't rouse when footsteps neared his bedroom. He never heard the words, those fatal words, chanted by the intruder.
"Avada kadavra."
Ron Weasley never returned to reality. He never left Hermione. He found her, and they now rest in eternal peace, together.
(A/N: Spur of the moment thing…wrote this while listening to a really sad couple of songs. I'd like comments on it from you, the reader. This has nothing to do with my other stories. It's just an "out-of-the-blue" type thing. Please, tell me what you thought…:-D)
