Hermione had always known it would come down to this; from that first time that Harry had almost lost his life to Voldemort, to right now. She was going to die. It was a shame really, to die like this. She'd always thought that she'd have a very solomn and quiet death, preferably at old age. Not that she really ever thought about it before, but when it came to dying, it seemed to always happened to everyone i else /i . You always seemed invincible, like you'd never die because you didn't look both ways before crossing the street or because your best friend was in a battle to the death with the most feared dark wizard in all of history and you just happened to be there with him.
Shaking her head, she looked down at the gravel stone beneath her. They were somewhere between Hogsmeade and the school, she knew that. Harry had insisted on going alone, i I need to do this myself, /i he had said, but of course, being loyal and frustrated, Ron and herself had followed close behind him. Harry hadn't even realized that they were there until Voldemort had implimented his first move, causing Harry to jump out of the way and fall down beside the building that they had been hiding next to. He had been off the charts angry, but Ron and Hermione didn't care. As long as they were there with him they always felt safe. Even Ron, who had remembered half way into their journey that he was deathly afraid of anything dangerous. We can't go back now, are you mad, Ron? Harry needs us! Hermione had scolded, always knowing that she had an upper hand over Ron when he was in a state of being afraid.
But now one small tear fell as Hermione flung herself over Harry's limp body, awaiting the i Avada Kedavra /i that she knew would finish her off next. If Harry was dead, then Hermione didn't care if she died as well.Hermione winced in preperation for her demise, but nothing happened. Looking up she noticed that Ron was now across from her completely petrified with fear. Voldemort had fled the scene; he'd been so elated about his triumph over Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, that he hadn't even noticed Hermione and Ron were there. i Ron! /i She ran up to him, flinging his arms across his neck and hugging him tighter than she'd ever thought capable of.
Ron couldn't speak, he was so shocked to be alive. He gulped and tried to move his arms, tried to hug Hermione back, but he was frozen, stiff as a board. His best friend was dead. His i best friend /i was dead.
Hermione broke away from him and wiped the tears off of her face, not knowing what she could possibly say. Their best friend, whom they thought to be entirely indestructable, had been defeated by his arch enemy, by the world of magic's arch enemy, but her and Ron were still alive. i Oh, Ron...what do we do now? /i What could you do after your best friend was killed by he-who-must-not-be-named? Go back to Hogwarts and let everyone know that Harry Potter had finally given in to death? Draco would be celebrating, of course. Dumbledore wasn't even there to do the right thing by his death.
Ron stood there, not as petrified, but his anger was stifling him. He was crying, naturally, and shaking a bit. He shook his head and took Hermione in his arms again, now able to give her a proper hug. She felt comforting, safe, and familiar. He had always known that he could find this type of solice in her, but he had never had to before. Nothing like this had ever happened. Not even when Dumbledore had died had Ron been this upset. As much as both of them hated to think, it even felt kind of nice. Hermione felt guarded in Ron's arms, and although the obvious emotion of sadness was taking over, she couldn't help but feel that this was right. She had always been a firm believer in the fact that everything happened for a reason.
They stayed like that for awhile, in each other's arms, feeling comforted and wretched at the same time. In a mess of tears and heat, they parted, looking at Harry's body, lifeless and dull. That spark was gone, the one that had always been there, in his eyes. The scar on his forehead even looked a little dull and faded. Hermione got down on her hands and knees and ran her finger across it, not able to hold back the wave of tears threatening to spill over at a moment's notice. Ron joined her for a minute, and then he pulled her up and took her hand. i We have each other. /i He managed to choke out, as Hermione pulled herself together and squeezed Ron's hand. With one lingering glance at what used to be Harry, they began the long walk back to Hogwarts, hand in hand.