Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Author's Notes: Sequel to insanepinapplefromnaboo's Sweet Silence
Sweet Silence Once More
"I don't blame you," Ron says in a barely audible whisper. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, and he looks away as I seek his gaze.
"You should," I say tonelessly. His eyes briefly rest on mine. I persistently continue, "If I were you, I would hate me. She died because of the mistakes I can no longer atone for."
Ron stares pointedly at the ruins of the school, "Hate doesn't achieve much though, does it?" This is more of a statement than a question. I am struck by pity for him. I usually only feel guilt for my part in Hermione's death, however, now I realize just how much Ron has lost. Guilt is such a strong word for a Slytherin. We live by the actions we cause to only save our own lives.
Longbottom, Charlie, Hermione, Harry, and countless others whom I had never taken the time to learn the names of were all killed in a battle over pointless hate. I was the cause of one of his best friend's deaths and he still holds no resentment towards me. How can my bitterness towards this war have outlasted his? Some foreign emotion to me must have flickered in my gaze because he looks at me in almost...pity.
"I did hate you at first, but not anymore. I just can't bring myself to hate anything again," he says softly, and I cringe at the raw emotion in his voice. I know exactly what he means, but I ask the question anyway.
"What changed?" My voice quivers, but he doesn't seem to notice. It might be that he doesn't care anymore.
"I saw you at the graveyard last week."
Ron had seen me visiting Hermione's grave. I had gone for a sense of closure, a chance at letting myself move on. I left a white rose on her grave, marred with a single crystal tear. The ruined rose was a symbol of myself, an image of flawed perfection. I had changed due to carrying the guilt and grievance of her death for much too long. Leaving the rose on her grave was leaving the pain behind me to be swept away in the winds.
I incline my head slightly, "You could have stopped me from going anywhere near her grave."
He smiles at me grimly. "What would you have done if I had tried?"
"I would've given you the rose, and walked away. Even you aren't dense enough to not understand what I wanted."
Ron lets a half grin show on his face after this comment. Neither of us is speaking. There is a comfortable silence between us.
Sweet silence once more.