1No More Chances
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, except for the plot. The plot is mine, but everything else belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.
A/N: I changed this story a bit. I didn't like the original one that I had written. I hope you guys like this one better! Happy reading!
"No...please...somebody...help...," Hermione muttered in her sleep.
Spells were flying everywhere . . .
She was in a graveyard.
The war was at its turning point.
But . . .
There was still a long way to go . . .
Before the battle would be over . . . forever.
Hermione was in a duel with a giant of man. She couldn't see his face, it was covered in that hideous mask that haunted her in her nightmares. Hermione dodged a purple curse, and shouted, "Stupefy!"
The Death Eater blocked the spell. "Avada Ked--" The Death Eater slumped to the ground.
Behind the fallen Death Eater stood Ron with his wand pointing at the fallen Death Eater. "Come on, Hermione! Have you seen Harry? " Ron shouted over all the chaos around them, his eyes filled with worry.
"No, Ron. I haven't seen him. You don't think--you don't think that--HE is here, do you? Perhaps Harry is fighting Voldemort right now."
"I dunno. Maybe he--Hermione! Duck!" Ron pushed Hermione to the ground as a Death Eater jumped out from behind them.
Everything was happening so fast. Hermione didn't have enough time to think. Curses were flying everywhere. She dodged a blue one. The next thing she knew, Ron was hit with a green curse, and he slumped to the ground. His eyes blank, staring into the sky.
Those eyes will haunt her forever . . .
Hermione sat up in her bed. For a minute, she didn't remember where she was. Hermione started to panic.
She jumped out of her bed and got her wand from the night stand. She was about to sprint out of the room when she spotted Ginny's sleeping form in the next bed of hers.
Hermione immediately calmed down. She was in Ginny's room, in the Burrow.
The Burrow.
The home of the Weasleys.
The home of Ron.
The realization of it all struck her like a stack of bricks.
It wasn't a dream after all. It was real. Ron was dead. His funeral was tomorrow.
Tears were slowly falling. She couldn't contain them. She tried to distract herself from the memory.
Desperately, she searched the room. There had to be something to distract her. At last, her eyes fell on Ginny's hair.
The famous Weasley hair, that, unfortunately, all the Weasleys possessed. Including Ron.
Hermione collapsed on her bed, quietly sobbing into her hands. She continued to sob until she fell asleep.
Hermione awoke to the sound of birds chirping merrily.
Those birds were mocking her. They knew she dreamt of the memory again. How could they not? For the last couple of weeks, since the day Ron had died, she had been dreaming of that night. She couldn't escape from it. All she wanted was to forget it, and, for most of the day, she did. But not in her dreams, it crept into her dreams every night without fail. And those birds knew it. They never gave her a break. They were always chirping merrily. It was driving Hermione insane!
Hermione quickly cast a silencing charm on the window. That's better, Hermione thought to herself.
She quickly changed and headed downstairs to the Weasley's kitchen.
Hermione walked into the Weasley's kitchen. All of the Weasleys were there, after all, they should be, on this terrible day. All of the Weasleys were silently eating the wonderful breakfast provided by Mrs. Weasley.
She couldn't blame them. She still hadn't realized that Ron was truly gone. That he was never coming back. No, she hadn't, and she didn't want to. Hermione just wanted to stay in this void of nothingness, of numbness. In this void, the Final Battle never happened. Ron wasn't dead. This void was the medicine to her wound in her heart. The deep cut was never going to heal, Hermione knew that, but, at least, in this void, it didn't hurt.
Hermione quietly sat down at the Weasley's table. She silently ate her breakfast, along with the other Weasleys, toast, scrambled eggs, grits, and pumpkin juice. One of Ron's favorite meals. Hermione quickly closed her eyes, took a deep breath, slowly opened her eyes, and continued eating as if she hadn't even thought of Ron.
Hermione couldn't think of Ron. If she did, she would burst out of her void and into reality, a reality so painful, that Hermione couldn't survive in it. She couldn't survive without him.
"Hermione, dear, the funeral is about to start," Mrs. Weasley said quietly, jolting Hermione out of her thoughts.
Hermione realized that the Weasleys had finished eating and had gone outside for the funeral that was to be held out in the garden.
"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she said, looking into Mrs. Weasley's sad, watery eyes.
Mrs. Weasley just nodded and gave her a quick hug. "Well, we must get going, dear. We wouldn't want to be late."
"No, no we wouldn't," Hermione said just as Mrs. Weasley walked out the door.
Hermione sighed. She wasn't sure if she could do this. She knew she was going to break down. But, she couldn't miss the funeral either. It would be an injustice to Ron.
Hermione took a deep breath and walked into the Weasley's garden.
The small garden had changed. Where the plants used to be, was a white tomb. Around the tomb were beautiful flowers of every kind. There were roses, lilies, daises, a fair few of magical flowers which seemed to attract fairies, and flowers that where orange (probably stood for the Chudley Channons).
There were also many rows of chairs facing the white tomb. Most of the chairs were already taken, but, Harry had saved her a seat between Ginny and Remus Lupin.
Hermione quietly took her seat. Ginny turned toward her. Her face was deathly pale, except for her bloodshot eyes.
"Hermione, how are you," sniffed Ginny.
"I've been better," Hermione said sadly.
Ginny attempted to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.
"I'm going to miss him," Ginny said quietly, staring at the tomb.
"We all are going to miss him, Ginny," Lupin said, entering the conversation.
"I know," Ginny whispered. She refused to say anything else.
"Remus, how's Tonks?" Hermione said, trying to change the subject.
"I'm wonderful," sobbed a heavily pregnant Tonks beside Remus.
"The baby's fine, if that's what you mean. Nymphadora, well, she's a little emotional," Remus said.
Tonks stopped sobbing. Her hair turned a brilliant shade of red. "I heard that, Remus!" She smacked his arm.
"See what I mean," laughed Remus. Hermione laughed, too. But not for long. Laughing didn't seem right anymore.
All of a sudden, the music started. It was soft and mournful.
Mr. Weasley came out of the Burrow with Ron in his hands.
Hermione stopped breathing.
There he was. He looked the same as always.
Those eyes that once held so much life were now staring blankly at her.
Mr. Weasley gently lowered his lifeless son into the white tomb and closed it.
Hermione couldn't believe what was happening right in front of her. Ron's funeral. Her Ron. Dead. In that white tomb just ten feet away. Hermione couldn't grasp this situation. No, she didn't want to.
Hermione looked around her. All the Weasleys were silently crying, including Fred and George. The Order of Phoenix was here too. Remus looked as pale and as thin as a ghost. Tonks was sobbing hysterically, clinging onto Remus like a mad woman. Mad-Eye Moody was grimacing, which made him looked more disfigured than he already was. Hagrid was blowing into his tablecloth-sized tissue. McGonagall was sniffing into a tissue as well. Harry was sickly pale and was fighting back tears, while stroking Ginny's hair, who was sobbing into his shoulder. Hermione remembered with a jolt of pain in her heart, Ron was doing the same thing to her at Dumbledore's funeral. Hermione lost it. He was stroking her hair and she was sobbing into his shoulder. She broke down sobbing.
She was never going to see him again. Never going to see his lopsided grin which made shivers travel down her back. Never going to see those blue eyes, those wonderful blue eyes, so full of life. Never going to see the way how his faced turned from red to magenta in less than a second. She was never going to be able to have rows with him. Oh! How she would miss those rows. She loved seeing Ron rise up to the bait. She loved making up after a particular bad row. She loved his thick-headed self. She loved how ignorant he was of his feelings for her. Well, maybe she didn't love that too much. She was never going to see Ron Weasley ever again.
Her small frame shook with sobs.
Hermione felt as if her heart was breaking. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but she wouldn't get the chance. She couldn't tell him how much he meant to her. She couldn't tell him that he was better than all of his brothers. She couldn't tell him of what a good friend he had been to her. She couldn't tell him how thankful she was for showing her hope in all those dark nights when she couldn't grasp the light. She didn't even get the chance to tell him that she loved him.
No! That's a lie! And you know it, Granger! You had plenty of times to tell him, Hermione thought furiously. But, you didn't, another voice said in her head, a voice so full of despair. You should have, you bloody coward. Dumbledore's funeral, Bill and Fleur's wedding, and that night at the Dursleys. You could have told him then, but you didn't.
Hermione quieted down a bit when a short, balding man in solemn black robes stepped in front of Ron's tomb and said, "Ronald Billius Weasley was a very brave man. He helped defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and was a great friend, a great son, and a great brother. He would have died saving someone from a horrible death, and so he did. Ron was an honest man. He believed . . . "
Hermione blubbered on, not caring of what that bald, little man had to say about Ron. He didn't know Ron. Ron wasn't anything like that. Sure, Ron was indeed very brave, he did help defeat Voldemort, and he did die trying to save my life. But, that man did not know that Ron was very funny, he hated doing homework, disliked Crookshanks, was easily embarrassed, a great Quidditch player, and sometimes lacked confidence in himself. That man couldn't possibly truly know of how Ron was like.
She would listen if someone who actually knew Ron was speaking. But, since everyone who actually knew Ron was crying their eyes out, she didn't have a choice on the matter. So, she pretended to listen to the bald man.
When he had finished talking, the funeral was over. Everyone slowly stood up and headed into the Burrow.
Hermione stayed behind.
Ginny gave her a questioning look, but she headed into the Burrow along with everyone else, holding Harry's hand.
Remus helped Tonks get to her feet and asked, "Are you going to be all right, Hermione?"
"Yes, I'll be fine, Remus, thank you," sniffed Hermione.
Remus nodded and headed into the Burrow with Tonks.
The garden was finally empty. Hermione slowly stood up and walked toward the white tomb where the love of her life now rested.
Hermione ran her finger along the tomb and sighed. "I'm afraid to say, there are no more chances, Ron," she whispered.
A single tear fell onto her lover's tomb.
A/N:
Well, I hoped you guys liked it! Don't forget to review! It will be greatly appreciated!