Harry sat quietly on his couch, a warm mug of coffee in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. The voice of his best friend echoed in his mind as he remembered it a year ago. A whole year had passed since the fall of Voldemort and the war that tore apart so many lives. They had lost Ron, who was his best friend and Hermione's long-time love. Among the lives lost were also Seamus Finnigan, Hannah Abbott, and Albus Dumbledore. The loss of Ron was the hardest blow any of them had ever taken. Hermione lost her lover and the father of her unborn child; Ginny lost her closest brother; Arthur and Molly lost their youngest son. Percy had not come to the funeral, not even acknowledged the fact that he lost his youngest brother. Harry thought more about his friend; he thought of what they had talked about the eve of the battle, the eve of Ron's death.
"Hey, Harry...You know, if I don't make it out tomorrow-" Ron had started.
"Don't be thick, Ron!" Harry had cut him off "of course you'll make it."
"Harry, listen to me, please! I want you to tell Hermione something for me and I want you to take care of her and Ginny. Give this to Hermione," Ron said quickly in a hushed voice thick with emotion. Stuffing a small, black velveteen box into Harry's hand he continued, "Tell her I wanted to marry her and spend the rest of my life with her and our baby." Ron had died saving Hermione from Voldemort himself. He took a killing curse for her as his last testament of his love for her and their child.
A single tear slipped down Harry's cheek, his emerald green eyes shining. To this day he still didn't know how Ron knew that he wouldn't make it. But he knew, and he accepted it. Images lashed through his mind: Hermione, sobbing, cradling Ron's lifeless form in the middle of a blood-soaked, corpse-strewn battlefield, Hermione's face when Harry gave her the velveteen box, Molly passed out on the floor and white as a sheet, Ron's beautiful baby, Robin, and her blue eyes that were so like her father's. Tears flowed freely from Harry's eyes now, tears not just for Ron but for everyone else too.
A slight smile curved the mouth of Sirius Black as he sat in his bedroom. He, Remus, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and her baby, Robin, were all living together in a big seven-bedroom house near Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There was an unspoken agreement between them all that it was for the best to be together because none of them really wanted to be alone. They just seemed to gravitate toward one another after the war. He raised his bottle of Firewhisky to his lips; his dark, handsome features contorted slightly as it hit his throat.
Poor Hermione, he thought, thank Merlin she has all of us to look after her and Robin.
Robin was the bright ray of sunshine in their lives, smiling and giggling, looking at them with big blue eyes just like her dad's. He'd come to love that child like his own. What a spoiled little girl she will become and nothing but good will come of her birth. She'll grow up and go to Hogwarts, following in the footsteps of her mum, becoming the annoying little know-it-all that always gets her friends out of trouble in the end. She won't have Dumbledore to look after her, but there'll be McGonagall; she'll take care of her. Robin will never have to worry about anything except kid stuff while she's there. No war for her; no bloodshed, pain, or loss.
Ginny stood silently on Hogwarts castle grounds listening to Hermione's pain-wracked sobs as she knelt over Ron's grave. Autumn leaves were fluttering through the air pushed by the chill wind. She wrapped her cloak tightly around her trying to shut out the chill of memories more than the chill of the wind. She gazed at the castle where she had spent seven years training as a witch; though her seventh was pretty much taken up by the Order and the war.
Ginny looked around. Many people were buried here on the grounds in places of honor. Behind Ron's small headstone was a large white statue of an angel standing guard over them all. Closest to the castle was a large, stone tree with a scroll design on it which served as Professor Dumbledore's resting place. There was also a tree planted in his honor just inside the castle gates which had somehow, probably magically, grown into the biggest ash tree Ginny had ever seen. The old wizard was cremated, by request, and the petrified tree stood as a memorial to the great wizard. Also buried here were her friends Seamus Finnigan, Hannah Abbott, Colin Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, and Padma Patil. So many lives were lost to the darkness; all of which were willingly given to save the wizarding world.
All of them died a heroic death, none in vain, Ginny thought, silently thanking them all for the ultimate sacrifice. Tears began flowing from Ginny, too. She went to comfort Hermione even knowing that it would not do much good.
"'Mione, you know he loved you with all his heart. He died to save you, giving you and Robin a chance at happiness…at life," she said to her crushed friend.
"I-I know, Gin. I-It's just so hard!" sobbed Hermione, her face blotchy and contorted with despair.
"I know, sweetheart, I know. But you're strong; you can make it through. You can let him move on. He didn't only sacrifice himself for you, but for Robin, too. He needs for you to live for him and for her." Hermione knelt and dug a small hole in the dirt at the foot of the headstone. In it, she placed a small silver locket with photos of her and Robin inside. Gingerly, she covered it over with the disturbed soil.
"I love you, Ron Weasley. There may be a letting go, but there's never a forgetting," she whispered hoarsely to the stone. Ginny turned away and headed back to the gates. Hermione longingly cast a glance toward the stone and then the school, remembering old times with her, Harry and Ron. With a sigh she turned back to follow Ginny. As the breeze blew and the leaves swirled around her feet she thought she heard his voice, laughing, telling her he loved her one last time. She tilted her head skyward and smiled at the fluffy white clouds.
"I love you too, Ron. See you later," she said to the sky, knowing more than hoping that she would see him again.
Remus Lupin, werewolf and former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, was sitting on the large front porch of the home that he shared with his friends. At the moment, he was relishing in the crisp, clean smell of the season. Autumn was his favorite time of year; although, this time last year was much different. Battles, murders, planning, sabotaging, and mourning had taken up the better of the cold seasons. He stared into the distance, the wind whipping his old worn robes about him. His weathered, handsome features betrayed his thoughts as he thought about the day he had brought the Boggart into class and when Ron got his turn... Ron. He remembered him well as Harry's best friens and the man attached to Hermione. Always was an awkward boy but he was also brave, loyal to his friends, and a true Gryffindor.
He sighed. He often wondered why it couldn't have been an old bachelor like him instead of a young wizard with everything to look forward to, especially fatherhood. Baby Robin is what kept Hermione from giving up and maybe dying of a broken heart. She has reason to live now and a reason to love. Losing Ron was the most unexpected thing for her and what made it even worse was what Ron made Harry promise to do. If it is possible to be ecstatically happy yet beside oneself with grief then that was what Hermione was. She was ecstatically happy that Ron wanted to marry her, even bought the ring, yet so incredibly sad and distraught that he didn't get to follow through and see their wonderful little girl. He would never forget that night, the night after Ron's death. Harry had come in, puffy-eyed and fatigued, to fulfill the promise he made.
"Hermione?" he said.
"Yeah, Harry?" Hermione whispered.
"Ron, he... he told me to tell you something. 'Mione, he knew he wouldn't make it out of there. He knew, and I don't know how; b-but I do know something. He loved you, 'Mione, more than anything. He would have given you the world; and he did. He died to save you, but don't feel guilty. That's the last thing he wants. He would rather it be this way. He wanted your child to grow up happy and he, or she, will now. He wanted you to be happy, and you should be, knowing how much he really loved you," Harry had said. Remus had been listening in from the hall. There was a pause in which Harry apparently gave her the box with the ring in it.
"He wanted to marry you and be with you the rest of his life, 'Mione," he explained. "This is the ring he bought for you." Then all that was heard were sobs from a completely distraught Hermione as she broke down and collapsed in Harry's arms.
At that point, he left the hall, not wanting to disturb them by walking in. He could see it now; Hermione hurriedly wiping the tears away and bidding him hello with false cheer. Harry would just sit with his head in his hands and his back to the room. Hermione was a fighter and a tough bird at that. But every time he saw her he could see that the sparkle had left her eyes, and what replaced it was a hollow sadness. She would make it through though, and so would everyone else with the help and hope of little Robin. Remus stood and entered the house, shutting out the chill of the air and the whispers of tattered memories carried on the wind.