Ron sat staring out the window, left alone again. Ever since Hermione and Harry had officially become a couple, he was usually the one left alone. And they didn't seem to give a damn. They sat like to love-struck puppies and it was making Ron sick. That was all they did anymore. He just couldn't take it. And he wasn't jealous, at least, that's what he kept telling himself. He hoped it wasn't jealousy for Hermione, cause he had never felt that way about her, just the fact that Harry had someone now.
This afternoon Hermione and Harry went to Hogsmeade, but Ron had opted to stay behind. It didn't seem to bother them at all. But now he was getting bored, and it was about time for them to return anyway. But Ron fell asleep in the common room waiting. He had managed to stay up until one-ish, but he couldn't keep his eyelids open. He was worried, but kept trying to reassure himself that they must have snuck in already and he had just missed them in his tired state.
The next morning though, they weren't to be found anywhere. Not in the dorms, not in the library, and not in any of the classes. Ron was forced to walk to the Great Hall by himself. He sat next to Lavender Brown, who was also wondering why no one had returned from Hogsmeade. And why there was no food.
They soon found out the answers to both questions. Dumbledore stood up, looking weary and tired, much unlike himself. He cleared his throat and all attention was turned towards him. "Excuse me, everyone. I have some very upsetting news. Yesterday, while many of our students were visiting the wizarding village of Hogsmeade, something horrible occurred. Someone attacked the village, and everyone within was killed to the extent of our knowledge." There was a loud gasp let up, and some crying out. "Now, we don't know that everyone has died, they are looking for survivors." But Ron didn't want to, couldn't hear the rest. He pushed out the chair from underneath him, letting it collapse loudly on the ground. People turned their heads at the sudden noise, but it didn't faze Ron. He bolted from the Great Hall towards the Gryffindor common room. He collapsed in the nearest chair, unable to accept the fact. NO! he kept telling himself. Harry and Hermione are alive, sitting in the Great Hall feeding breakfast to each other. This did not happen, it couldn't have happened. But Ron knew the truth, and even though he kept telling himself it wasn't true, he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. And they burst loose as the truth burst into Ron's mind. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the pain unbearable. He should have been there with him, they should have been together. They were best friends, soul mates, family, and they should have died together. Not alone.
But they hadn't been alone. They had left Ron to fend for himself. And now he had to mourn by himself because of their selfish ways. They hadn't cared about him, hadn't tried to persuade him to come. They had just excepted his answer and continued in their merry life of love. Ron was bitter. In a short time, his emotions had changed fleetingly from denial, hurt, pain, sadness, anger, and bitterness. He just sat in the common room, angry at his best friends, angry at whoever had done this, angry at himself, angry at Dumbledore for not fixing it, angry at the world.
By the time the funeral had come, a few days later, Ron was numb. Numb from his feelings of sadness or hate. Numb from the sympathy and pity he received from everyone. He just walked through his routine, living his life, without living it, without a soul. It was only his body walking around, his soul had left to find peace with Hermione and Harry somewhere, wherever they were.
At the funeral, all the families of the victims were there. They were all crying in front of the caskets of their children. Hermione's and Harry's had been placed next to each other. Hermione's parents were in front of hers, but Harry's was empty. Here he was, the famous Harry Potter, at his funeral and there was no family to mourn for him. Ron felt the duty of best friend, and crept forward with Fred, George, and his parents behind him. They stood a few feet away as Ron walked towards the closed casket. He had cried once for the loss of his friends, since then nothing. But now it was different, the reality of it hit him. He would never, ever, ever see them again. Not as a whole, living, breathing human being. The memories of their lives together flashed quickly before Ron's eyes as he tumbled forward, using Harry and Hermione for support, their caskets that is.
A/N: So, how horrible was that? I think I wrote it in less than twenty minutes. I'm having big problems writing the second part to another fic I'm in the middle of, so I tried to do something else, hoping it will work. Review however you please, I don't really know exactly what I think of it, so I'll be happy to hear your thoughts.
Disclaimer: No one belongs to me, just J.K. Rowling.