The wind whirled around her shoulders, snow falling gently by her feet. Her head was tilted toward the ground, silent tears pouring down her cheeks. Her eyes were closed in tranquility, her face red with the cold. She sank to her knees in sadness, howling suddenly in the quiet. Those gathered looked down at her and her grief, unshed tears shining in their eyes. Young women cried, their partners holding them close. Children ran to their mothers, their howls adding to the cacophony of her grief.
She stood then, in anger. Her hair flew in her fury, adding to the image of her madness.
"How dare you! How dare you leave us! It wasn't supposed to end this way! We were supposed to live happily ever after! You weren't supposed to leave! What about our lives together?! Did you know?! Did you know what I was going to tell you?" She laughed then, a hoarse, maniacal laugh. She sank once more to the snow trodden ground.
"Did you know, did you know…I'm going to name him after you. I know you would enjoy that. I'm just sorry you won't get to see him grow up…learn to walk, to talk. Oh Ron…you would have loved your nephew more than the earth. He will grow up surrounded by his family, always hearing about his brave, courageous Uncle Ron. His Uncle Ron who defeated Voldemort, who did not back down when the time came to fight. But most of all, he will hear about his Uncle Ron, the brother, son, and friend to many. The man who never turned down a game of Quidditch or of chess. The man who fought with his wife every day as a way of expressing his feelings. Oh Ron…why did you leave?"
And with that simple question, the woman stood. She picked a white rose from a nearby bush, kissed it once, and lay it reverently on the white tombstone. As she walked away, the wind howled around once more, whispering softly.
"I love you…I love you…I love you…"