Kissing The Corpse
By the time I got to the funeral, it had already begun. It was held in the Burrow's backyard, obviously. Not many people were there and I actually wasn't surprised. But I was guilty. Guilty for being late when I was his best friend. I slipped in, more or less unnoticed, next to Hermione. She'd stopped crying, thankfully. She hadn't seemed to have stopped since the accident. They'd been sickeningly in love and recently engaged. She still hasn't removed the ring from her finger.
Of course, all his family were there. Mrs. Weasley was crying and Mr Weasley had his arm around her, looking close to tears himself. Ginny was sitting in between Fred and George and they all wore identical facial expressions of disbelief. I didn't blame them. Charlie, Bill, and Fluer were all there as well. Fluer was sobbing dramatically into a handkerchief. The seemingly fake tears to something so real burned me so I looked away. There were a few relatives I never met here and there. Even Percy had showed up, but was sitting in a corner of the garden alone, his hands clenched in his lap tightly. I heard Hermione hiccup and a put my arm across her shoulders. I felt her move into my touch.
Gryffindor Tower and a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws we'd known had attended as well. Most of the girls were crying and all the boys were white. Neville was both. Ron was lying in a coffin. Just the site of it stung my eyes and clogged my throat with the reality of the whole thing. Since it happened, I've been feeling extremely mixed emotions. I was in doubt at first, horrible doubt. Like with Sirius. I didn't want to believe it. Even now, sometimes I think he'll just walk through the door and yell "Surprise!" He never does. And sometimes, I feel this sickening feeling in my gut that yells in my ear that I need to stop living on false hope. Destiny hates me and that's all there is to it. This feeling usually comes at night or when I'm looking at something that reminds me of him.
Someone was speaking up front in front of the coffin that held the body. Ron's body. Ron's corpse. I swallowed and tried to pay attention. The man had a mess of flaming red hair, so I assumed him to be a part of the family. Finally he stopped talking and sat. I hadn't heard a word of what he said and I hoped it wasn't important. Everyone got up and started moving around, talking. Griping Hermione firmly by the shoulder, I pulled her up with me. We went over to the Weasley's and hugged them all silently. Our despair couldn't even attempt to be put into words.
Then we went over to the coffin. He lay here, red hair combed and face completely blank. I would say it looked like he was sleeping, but it looked nothing like it. I knew what he looked like asleep. Mouth gaping, drooling and snoring. Usually a look of either disgust or happiness on his features, depending on his dream. We all said our small goodbyes, but no one actually touched Ron. Some didn't even speak at all, just stared for a good few minutes. Me and Hermione were last. I looked down at him finally got up the nerve to do something. I reached down and placed my hand over his, which was folded over his chest. "Love you, mate," I tried to say, but my voice had left me when I wasn't looking. I kind of whispered it instead, then coughed slightly and moved along. As I looked back, I saw Hermione peer down at him, then lean over and kiss his lips. It seemed odd to me to kiss a dead person, but if you love someone as much as she loved him, it must not matter.