Okay guys, I'M BACK! CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES! It's been a whole 2 months and a half since I've been of FanFiction. Anyway, I already have this story, as you can see, but I've made it better! Now, continue reading.
It was a chilly November's day. So chilly, in fact, that you might think that it would be the perfect day for something tragic to happen. Ron and Hermione Weasley were inside their home, having no difficulty keeping warm. The fireplace was lit, but there were a few other magical means of keeping warm. Even with the warmth inside, however, the events on this day would leave a permanent chill inside of the house.
"Ron!"
Ron looked up from his newspaper, and was horrorstruck to see a pale and sweaty Hermione, clutching her large stomach. She was unsteady on her feet as she made her way over to the couch, so Ron stood up and caught her in his arms before she could fall.
"Hermione, what happened?" asked Ron, now panicking.
"Ron, I think I'm giving birth!" she cried, having difficulty breathing and talking.
"Okay, Hermione, let's go to St. Mungo's!" paniked Ron, trying to pull her to the fireplace, but she wouldn't move. Instead, she started crying, shaking her head back and forward.
"Ron, it doesn't feel right," she gasped through the pain. "It hurts so much!"
"Hermione, we've got to get you to St. Mungo's!" Ron said, pale but determined.
"Okay, just-oh Ron, I love you so much!" And with as much strength as she could muster, Hermione streched herself up to kiss Ron hard on the lips.
Tears starting to stream down his face, he scooped her up in his arms and made his way to the fireplace and Flooed to St. Mungo's.
Once there, Hermione was whisked away into an emergency ward, with Ron by her side, and all the while she was screaming in pain. Ron tried to keep his emotions back, to be strong for Hermione like she had been so many times for him, but he couldn't help but let a sob escape here and there. Oh, how the screaming brought back memories! Ron wasn't a grown man anymore, but still a teenager, unable to save Hermione from torture and pain. He wanted to scream out Hermione's name, bang his fists against the wall, and demand that she be left alone; but they weren't at Malfoy Manor, and this was a different kind of torture, one that Ron couldn't fix.
Once inside a room in the ward, it was made clear to the healers that there was something definitely wrong. Before he could protest and say it was his right to be there, Ron was taken away from the room and was plunked into a sitting room. It took all of his willpower to stay there, and to not barge in where they had Hermione, grab her in his arms, and take her to his mum, who, in his mind, could solve anything.
He had not thought to send a Partronus to anyone, so he sat there alone for what seemed like hours, until a Healer came in looking for him.
"Are you the husband of Hermione Weasley?" she asked.
He nodded impatiently, desperate for news.
"I'm sorry to inform you that your wife didn't make it," she said sadly. For the next few seconds, Ron looked at the healer, confused. Finally, when the words struck him, he sank down to his knees, clutching the chair for support. The Healer said something, but he couldn't comprehend, for he was drowning in his misery. Hermione? Gone? That wasn't a concept he could even comprehend. What were they talking about, she didn't make it? This was the girl who survived Bellatrix Lestrange! Not to mention all of those coutless dangers that they had taken part with Harry in his fight against Voldemort. These people were crazy, Hermione was to clever to die. Hermione was not dead.
"Mr. Weasley, did you hear what I said? The child survives, you are the father of a beautiful little girl."
Ron stood up, his face blank. He did not know how to feel about this. He couldn't feel anything, except grateful that the numbness in his body was a barrier against the pain.
"Take me to her," he finally said.
They walked down a long hallway, and through each door, Ron tried to see if he would spot Hermione. No such luck.
And there, in a small room, was where Ron's daughter lay. He looked down at her in her crib hesitantly, noticing that she had Weasley red hair, although it was bushy like her mother's.
Ron did not permit himself to think of her name, not now, not when she'd only been gone from this world for such short time.
He closed his eyes for a moment as the pain finally washed through him and his body accepted what was true: Hermione was gone. The pain washed over him for a few minutes until he forced his eyes to open again.
The child's eyes were open and intelligent, looking around the room without really seeing. As Ron crept closer, she layed her eyes upon him. Then, everything went black.
A few minutes later, Ron found himself on a bed, the only other people in the room being a Healer and his own daughter. Ron looked at the baby, but avoided her eyes, for that had been the reason that he had fainted. They were the same exact shade of brown as her mother's, the eyes that Ron loved.
I knew I would always end up hurting her beyond repair, he thought darkly to himself. The half that is like me is the one that ended up killing her, my wife, my love, my everything.
He would have hurt the baby if it had not been half of Hermione, living proof of their love.
It was pouring and dark outside when Harry heard a knock on the door. When he opened it, he saw a sight that surprised his so much that he had to make sure that it really was Ron there, dripping wet, and clutching a baby.
"Ron, wha-" Then he noticed that the wetness in Ron's eyes were not from the rain. He dragged a paralized Ron into the sitting room, and made him sit down. Ginny, who had been putting James to sleep, came waddling in.
"What happened?" Harry asked quietly.
"She's gone. Gone forever." Then Harry understood. Ginny was started to sob into her hands, also understanding, understanding the fact the Hermione was dead.
"Why didn't you send me a Patronus?" Harry demanded. "I should have been there Ron, I'm her best friend, how could you just not tell anyone? I could have said goodbye. I could have said so many things that I still had to say."
They were all silent, except for Ginny's tears, until it was realized that Ron wasn't going to respond.
"But she gave birth, then?" said Harry, swallowing hard and nodding at the baby. Harry didn't know how to feel. His best friend, his sister, dead. It was unreal.
Ron didn't reply. Instead, he just started sobbing harder, bringing Harry back to 8 years ago, seeing Ron cry over Fred.
"Harry, I can't take it. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. Harry, I don't want her," Ron's voice cracked. He thrusted the baby into Harry's arms.
"LOOK AT HER EYES!" Ron screamed like a madman at a confused Harry, his voice echoing his pain and sadness, not caring if he woke up two-year-old James.
Harry obediently looked down at the baby's eyes, and sure enough, they were the same brown, intelligent eyes that Hermione had.
"I don't want her," Ron repeated, quieter. "I know that she died because of something to do with the baby, and I know it was because half of it is me. Don't you see Harry? I'm always hurting her. Always being rude to her, Lavander, and now having something of myself inside of her?" Ron scoffed. "I knew I would always hurt her. I knew it. Harry, I'm afraid that I'll do something bad to the baby, bad to the part that's Hermione. I don't want that. I know that I won't be a good father, and I'll be even worse now that she doesn't have a mother. You and Ginny need to take her."
Harry started to say something, but Ginny interrupted him.
"Are you as mad as you look Ron? We already have James, and a soon-to-be Albus! We can't take care of your baby!"
"I don't care what you tell her," continued Ron, as always, ignoring his sister. "Tell her that she and Albus are twins, or that me and Hermione died or something. I just don't care, as long as she doesn't know what a horrible father she has. Promise me Harry!" he pleaded. Harry simply nodded, and Ron looked extremely relieved. As he started to make his way to the door, Harry called out to him.
"Ron, what are you going to do with yourself?" Harry demanded.
Ron simply smiled, and replied,"Don't worry about me, I won't do anything too terrible. I'll keep in touch," he added.
He started walking towards the door, hesitated for a moment, then walked back to where a horrorstruck Ginny and a solemn Harry were sitting. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the baby's forehead, and with a pained whisper of "Goodbye Rose. I hope you'll be happy", he turned around and left into the still pouring night.
You like? I like. I've been so busy with Tumblr. Do you have one? Mine is jac32oz(.)tumblr(.)com!
