Author's Note: Hi. This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction ever. I've been reading a lot of them these past few months, and to say that I'm addicted, would definitely be an understatement. Pardon me for any mistakes; I've not done this before. Do send in any thoughts you may have, all kinds of suggestions are most welcome. If you have any questions, PM me.
Chapter One:
"Miss Granger, get Madame Pomfrey, NOW!"
Minerva McGonagall's stern voice boomed in Hermione's ears. She ran as fast as she could, with her throbbing head and broken body. Visions of her potions professor swirled in her mind, lying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, his eyes glazed and blood seeping through a gash in his neck. She shook her head and burst through the Hospital wing.
Blood. Dying people. Grieving friends. Hopeless families. Distraught eyes seeking each other out. A family of redheads clustered around a cot. Hermione thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar redhead lying on the bed, but she looked away. She needed to get to the matron before giving into her fears and facing the harsh reality.
Making her way to the end of the Hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey was murmuring an incantation over an unconscious Neville Longbottom, Hermione called out. "Madame Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall sent me. It's Professor Snape, he needs immediate medical attention, he's-", the words stuck in her throat. She watched the matron give a solemn nod, grab a box of potions from a nearby desk and hustle out of the room, after she'd told her where to find the wounded and possibly dead potions master.
"No, Hermione, he's not yet-"
"How do you know, he probably is. He didn't look good when you left him in the Shack."
"There's far too many dead already."
"Precisely, it wouldn't matter if you mourned for him as well."
"No, not till I know for sure. Just like with Ron-"
"Ron," she muttered feverishly, as she hurried towards the wall of redheads, shaking her head, trying to ignore the growing feeling of dread in her heart and the warring voices in her head.
"Hey, 'ermione," a feeble voice spluttered, as she neared her best friend's cot. "S'good of you to come before I-" he coughed out blood. "Ron, no, don't…. Please, no," George Weasley murmured, as he clutched at his little brother's hand. Tears streaked down his face, following the paths of the ones he had already shed for his twin. "Poppy said he's bled too much, internally as well. Blood Replenishing Potion won't heal the organs inside, and there are too many of them to repair," Mr Weasley filled Hermione in. She saw the sorrow reflected in his eyes and the exhaustion that came with being strong for the sake of his tattered family. She knew there was nothing to be done, as she watched the helpless man drop his eyes to the floor. Ginny's silent weeping soaked Harry's blood-stained shirt, as he gazed at his dying friend with tears glistening in his green eyes. "Oh Ron," Hermione broke down, unable to keep her sobs in anymore. She sat by his side and held onto him for dear life.
"You guys, 'ey Charlie, Bill, never dreamed I'd see y'all cry," Ron laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. "No, really, mum, dad, all of you. You can't let it get to you. Promise me. Take care of each other and don't miss me so much that you forget to enjoy the freedom we've fought for. We won, alright? Cheer up a bit."
"And Harry, mate, try to keep your hands off my baby sister for a while, will ya?" Harry laughed through his quickly falling tears, as he shook his head at his friend's attempt at humour. "Hermione, don't cry into the nights. Mum, you too. Georgie - can I call you that? -", George nodded, "keep those Nosebleed Nougats coming, a'right? Charlie, you go get that Romanian girl," Ron winked, "and Bill, get Fleur knocked up." George snickered and then sniffled. "Merlin knows mum needs a grandchild or two to keep her busy. Perce, mum's never gonna forgive you for getting hitched secretly. Make sure your kids don't get your looks." Bill snorted and nudged Percy in the ribs. "Dad, look after them all, please. 'Mione, you know I loved you -", he choked out as Hermione squeezed his hand gently, "I always will. But you've got to move on, hear me? All of you. Promise me." Ron coughed again, this time spewing blood over his clothes as he struggled for air.
His desperate eyes locked onto each of their teary ones till they bowed in agreement. He looked at Hermione at last and whispered, "Promise me, please. Don't give up." She leaned in and softly said, "I promise, Ron. I love you too." He gave a soft smile at that and closed his eyes. His eyes fluttered open again for a moment as he gazed at Hermione and then they lost him.
Ron Weasley, the brave Gryffindor who stood by his friends and family through the worst of times, breathed his last on that first night after the Second Wizarding War, succumbing to his injuries and leaving his family with promises to move on after his death. Hermione saw the life in him flicker and escape, she saw the shine in his eyes die out, as his gaze changed from one of love to one of oblivion. She watched Harry reach out and brush his best friend's eyes closed.