When Ron and Hermione took their first step into the chamber, they were even more overwhelmed than ever, though they had figured they had reached their capacity in that area.
They were at war. Their friends, teachers, and peers were screaming at and fighting their own looming possible deaths. The chamber reeked something terrible, and the water dropped around their dizzy heads from the damp ceiling.
And, damn it, THEY WERE IN LOVE.
Which was evident to both of them, as, perhaps, it may always have been to a certain degree. But as the drops hit their head and the floor, one at a time in their own steady rythym, Hermione felt as if each drop were signaling another small pierce in her heart. As if the water was a clock, counting down the potential last moments of her life. A cold fear shot through her shaking body. She had always been realistic, and had always been proud of such, because she had learned in the midst of an occasional mistake that being a dreamy-eyed romantic was a huge disappointment, and occasionally obnoxious. Therefore, she assumed death was coming sometime soon, it had to be coming. It was only realistic to believe such a thing. This wasn't on her mind; it was simply a rational knowledge. But she could have never imagined these moments, nor could she have prepared for them. And she felt her last moments dropping and drowning.
Drip. Drip.
In full honesty, she hadn't recently thought about death, whether or not she knew it was coming to some degree. In fact, in her insane, unbelievable and relatively short life, she had never given death very much thought at all. Perhaps once or twice after her Grandma Granger had passed away it had crossed her mind. But death was never on her to do list, and thinking about death wasn't either. And now…. Death was here? Maybe?
Drip. Drip.
Well, just the same, if it were…the day…. Ron was with her. Ron was with her. And she didn't want to die, there was so much she knew she needed to do and wanted to do in life before she was ready to die. But she had always pictured Ron with her in all the important moments of her life. Her marriage, for example. The birth of her first child. The moments she might not get to live, but had pictured at least once or twice in her mind.
Hermione followed him, holding her breath to eliminate the stinging scent of the decaying basalisk to the best of her ability. The room was spinning around her, but somehow she managed to follow Ron. Without trying, her legs bent and she ran far and fast after him with an energy she didn't know existed. Water splashed at her ankles, and her feet were freezing, but she stuck with her instincts just to run.
Finally, as the stench of the rotting basilisk corpse worsened until it felt as if it were pentetrating through her brain, Hermione finally heard the splashes of Ron's footsteps slow for a moment and then stop all together. They had been running long before they had even reached the chamber, there was no time to waste, and Hermione got only a couple sweet moments of rest. Three blinks of an eye, perhaps, if that.
And for a split second in time, she couldn't even feel the stabbing pain in her chest telling her death was coming. Though she did feel as if her legs were on fire, from all the running she had done, and for a moment she thought she was going to collapse. But no. She couldn't collapse. She had never collapsed before. And today wouldn't be the day.
Of course there was Ron by her side, and she looked in his eyes, and for a moment, he looked back too. That was nice. How long had it been since they had made eye contact? Without calculation she knew, it had only been a couple of hours, but just the same, it felt like it had been days or perhaps weeks. But, just the same, it wasn't time for eye contact. It was time to do what they could to help Harry, to help the wizarding world. And they had minutes to do so. And each second of each minute was completely crucial to the plan and the war and to victory and perhaps to defeat.
Hermione broke the momentary gaze first, and quickly inhaled with a gasp as she approached the final reminants of the frightening corpse, grasping the gigantic fangs as quickly as she could for as many as her arms could hold. She heard Ron's clumsy feet splashing in the few inches of water on the ground next to her as he franticly began grabbing his own basilisk fangs. They avoided the very tips as best as they could. Though they weren't especially sharp, they were sharp enough to scare one enough so that one may not wish to touch them, and if they were going to die it might as well be after they had helped Harry in some way for a final time, rather than in a chamber with painful basilisk venom.
Hermione tried to grasp another fang, taking in another shrill and painful breath. And all she could hear was the drops falling on the wet ground….
Drip. Drip.
Time was passing. Time was passing. Time was passing. Time, which people try to waste and that people waste and that she couldn't waste. And suddenly there was another drop, a drop out of the rythym and in between the seconds. And she couldn't figure out what it was at first, the strange drop, she didn't like how it was out of rhythm. But she felt a thin, warm liquid streak down her cheek as her body shivered in the chamber. She supposed tears were to be expected, but it wasn't the time for that, it wasn't the time for anything but helping Harry and every innocent wizard and witch risking his and her life so nearby as she stood there.
And Ron started running away to go help them all, and Hermione knew she had to follow again. And though she could hardly see anymore, between the warmth in her eyes and her pounding head and heart, she found again that she could follow him just fine. Even if inside of her she was shrieking in pain and anger and torture, she knew her face was determined and she knew her body was carrying her fast after Ron. After Ron who she loved.
But Ron was too far ahead of her, and though she wasn't scared to be on her own, she wanted to be with him. Because these might be her last minutes, and she needed him. Her legs carried her faster and faster, like she didn't know they could, until suddenly she was by his side, and he was all she ever wanted and all she ever needed. And he was right there. And it wasn't okay, nothing was okay, but it was as close to okay as it was going to be, because she was by his side. And….
And she released all her saved breath and cried "RON! I LOVE YOU!"
Ron just smiled. He was out of breath and nearly out of time. But a smile was all she needed, and said all she needed to know, and she continued to follow him.
So she was facing death. She knew that much now. And she could grasp that much now. Perhaps, of course, there were certain ways that her life would be closed out that would be better than others. And perhaps this was one of the best ways she could see her life to the end. She loved Ron. Ron loved her.
Of course, her whole life, she had longed for better grades, more knowledge, and even particular attractive physical attributes…. She had also always wanted Ron. And in the end, that was what she was getting, and in the end, that was all that really mattered.
And in the glaring face of danger and death she could hold her heavy load in her arms and in her heart and smile. Because no matter what was about to happen, Ron was hers, forever.
