Piano Notes
You were at 12, Grimmauld Place. You guys had been on the run, and no one was safe. He was getting stronger, and Harry was their only hope.
Though, I think they all knew that he would die in the end. But no matter what, Harry wanted Voldemort dead, even if it meant giving up his life.
And there she was, the little girl you have grown up with, the little girl you used to hate, the girl you first noticed in a different way in fourth year. Sitting right next you, playing piano notes. You didn't know the bloody song, but Ron Weasley was sure that Hermione Granger made it sound better. She made everything sound better. Her laugh, her smile, her face. You tried to shake the thought off, but you couldn't forget what you saw in the mirror: You and Hermione, all grown up with two children. If they survive this, this war, He was going to make sure that is true heart's desire came true. And suddenly, her hand was on yours. smiling and guiding your hand to the correc note, you felt like a bloody fool, messing up in front of her like that. You suddenly realized her hand was cold, so therefore she must be cold. You wanted to wrap her up in her arms, but your arms wouldn't move. The whole world faded as your vision focused on her face. That beautiful, pale face with the little freckles across her nose and her flawless eyebrowsYou wanted to kiss those freckles, each and every one, and tell her she was beautiful and he loved her. He had always loved her, be it a friend and then something more. You wanted to tell her right then and there, but all that hit his ears was the sound of piano notes harmonizing perfectly with her laugh.
It's months later, and you're still on the run. She seemed to have forgotten about you, and you were still wearing the Horcruz. It was destroying your mind. You noticed how much time Hermione was spending with Harry. Of course, she'd choose the famous Harry Potter over a pathetic Ron Weasley, always in the background. The Horcruz was making it all worse. She'll never love you. It whispered in his mind. She doesn't deserve you. Who would want you over Harry Potter. She's never preferred you, she's always prefered him. Why should you even try? Finally, one night, when Hermione mentioned something to Harry, and not you, you had enough. You got up and said things that you never would have said if you hadn't been wearing the Horcrux. Hermione was begging you, begging you to take off the Horcrux. You shoved her off, you actually pushed Hermione, probably pushing her off towards Harry in a literal and metaphorical sense. When you packed up and left, you realized that you'd be leaving her behind. And that killed you. So you decided to ask her to come with you, but why would she say yes? She preferred Harry. But she chased you out of the tent, screaming, sobbing, begging him to stay. You hesitated, but you went on, trying not to cry, but you had to go on, you were fed up.
It's been a few weeks, and as embarrassed as you were, you had to go back to them. To her. To Hermione. But, you didn't know where to go, where to begin. You had a lantern and snatchers were coming, so you opened up your Deluminator to extinguish the light. But, instead, a ball of light came out. And it said something, faint at first, but the voice now grew to a whisper. It was Hermione's voice, choked by sobs, whispering one thing over and over: Ron. Then, the ball of light flew right through you, right through your heart. You knew down to your bones that maybe, just maybe, Hermione loved you too, and this ball of light would take you to her.
She was angry when you came back, but it was ok after a while. You flash forward, and all that fills your ears are her screams, begging for anyone to save her, make the pain stop. That witch, that sick, twisted mind, was torturing her. Finally, the second you were reduced to sobs, you had to go for her. You yelled until he was hoarse, begging them to take you instead, torture you instead. You broke down the door with the help of dobby and ran for her. But blood was dripping down her arm, and a knife was to her throat. At the request to drop your wands, you did so in a second. They wouldn't hurt Hermione on your watch. But the chandelier fell, and Bellatrix pushed her away, towards the chandelier, rather Hermione die than herself, but Dobby, bless his soul, angled the chandelier so it missed Hermione but went for Bellatrix, and the next thing you knew, Hermione was in your arms, and you gathered up your wands and apparated, and minutes later, you held a crying Hermione as Dobby muttered his last words, "Harry Potter," before he fell into eternal sleep.
You take a month forward, and you were in the Chamber of Secrets with her by your side, and she destroyed the Horcrux. You were so, so proud of her, hoe she's grown, how she's become someone you loved. But before you knew it, water was rushing at you, it was covering you, consuming you. And before the thought crossed your mind, you took her in your arms and kissed her with 7 years of passion, and it didn't matter if the world was ending, if Fred had died, if you was broken inside, because Hermione kissed back. She loved you too. And all Ron Weasley heard in his head when their lips touched was the sound of piano notes.