Defeat and Attempts to Preserve Life
In the Great Hall, the Battle of Hogwarts was raging fiercely. Ron Weasley was battling Voldemort himself, and actually seemed to be holding his own against the Dark Lord. His confidence was growing, and Voldemort seemed to be getting annoyed with his challenger. He was now using verbal attacks to try and knock Ron off-balance; nothing was working, though.
"I know what you are!" Voldemort roared at the redhead.
"I am the best there ever was!" Ron countered, as he fired spells.
"You're a tragedy!"
"Me? Tragic?" Ron laughed. He prepared to charge Voldemort with his wand, but what the evil wizard said next stopped him cold.
"She was leaving you, Weasley!" he screeched, almost desperate now. Ron stopped cold, the glint leaving his eyes and almost now transferring into Voldemort's. There, he had the boy's attention now.
"Your Hermione was leaving you. Why should she stay? You have nothing to offer - you are incomplete!" As he spoke, he saw Ron staring at the bushy-haired know-it-all, fighting his top follower Bellatrix Lestrange, almost in slow motion, a distance away. Voldemort rushed the boy and fired a spell, which Ron now barely countered. Between crossed wands, Voldemort sneered before punching Ron and sending him reeling back into a stone column.
"Let us now take a peek into the future!" Ron saw what was coming and didn't like it. It was happening again; the psychological torture, the sowing of those feelings of inadequacy and rejection that he had felt all his life - he could not let them get to him now! He ran wide, looking to charge Voldemort as the dark lord continued mocking him.
"What's this I see? A girl lying in a bed. She seems to be unconscious."
"I'll wake her up!" Ron screamed, firing spells at Voldemort, who blocked them all and then crossed their wands.
"I'm afraid she's in a coma."
"I'll call out her name!"
"She can't hear you."
"No!"
"She can't see you."
"Hermione!"
"She's forgotten all about you!"
"No! Please! Stop it!"
Voldemort slashed up with his wand, leaving a gash in Ron's forehead as the boy stumbled back again, into some bleachers pushed against the walls. The redhead did not look remotely confident anymore. With tears streaking down his face and short, raspy breathing, he looked weak and feeble. Voldemort grinned in triumph.
"What's this I see? There is another in your place…. her husband! And it's not you!"
Ron could only imagine whom Voldemort might be referring to. With one last effort, he tried to disarm the evil wizard. Once again, he was blocked, and the Dark Lord closed in for the kill. He slashed down, hitting Ron on the head and knocking the boy to the floor at last. Voldemort's wand at his chin, Ron was then slowly forced to stand up again, now for the whole hushed Hall to see, defeated. Voldemort kicked him into a column before rushing forward and starting to choke Ron. The Hogwarts defenders were screaming now, Hermione loudest of all, but Bellatrix was holding her back.
Voldemort hit Ron on the head again so that his opponent fell to his knees, before kicking him in the back so that he fell, almost in slow motion to the floor again.
"NO!" Hermione screamed. Voldemort was ready to kill now. He produced a knife from his robes and threw it into Ron's chest.
Roars of protest went up, and a horde rushed Voldemort. He was swept away and the battle resumed; in the confusion and anger, Ron was forgotten. Hermione tried to get to him, but the crowd consumed her as well.
At long last, Harry reappeared from the dead and killed Voldemort. As people were celebrating, bodies were being moved into the Entrance Hall. That's when Hermione remembered: Ron! Heartsick, she ran out to the Entrance Hall and saw him, lying on a stretcher - alive, but barely. She knelt by his side.
"You're alright," he got out.
"Don't worry about me," Hermione ordered in her bossy way, even as she began to cry. She started to gently try and pull out the knife still lodged in his abdomen so she could clean the wound. "I'll save you; I've got Dittany in my bag…."
"'Mione." Ron interrupted, and he took her hand, even as he was shaking uncontrollably from cold, as well as the pain of the knife. "Be happy. Whatever makes you happy will make me happy. I…. love…. you…." He closed his eyes and lay back. Hermione began to sob.
"Please don't leave me," she begged. She held him close, and whispered through her tears, "I love you." No response.
She felt his pulse. He was still alive, but would probably be dead soon. No, no, she could not lose him, not now! If she could just keep him warm until Healers arrived…
She tried every magical spell she could think of - Lumos, Flamada, even Expecto Patronum - but she was so hysterical, none of her magic worked. She sobbed and sobbed. If she couldn't get Ron warm, he would die.
Then a thought struck her - a crazy thought but still, it was a way.
Still weeping bitterly, Hermione stripped Ron of all his clothes. She then pulled off her jeans and curled up tightly next to him, using her body heat to keep him from freezing. But that wouldn't nearly be enough. She knew what she had to do. Bestriding Ron so that she now lay on top of him, she kissed him lovingly as she took his penis in her hand and guided it to her center. Shaking off her knickers, she then pressed his member into her folds, which instantly became wet. She groaned from the pain into Ron's mouth, nearly choking on her tears, but continued, burying him into her core. Once pleasure had replaced initial agony, she began to move her hips in a rhythm, grinding herself up against him. She was overjoyed when she felt Ron involuntarily respond, his lower half bucking into her. She even heard him moan against her lips, and briefly paused in the kissing and strange sex to call his name. He still did not respond.
She moved faster, almost flopping against Ron's body now, as she thrust his member into her harder, again and again. Her vision clouded, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her mouth stayed open in a small "o" - out of which came her sobs, now mixed with gasps of pleasure, short breaths, even whimpers and small cries. In between these, she would cover his mouth with hers – even forcing Ron's mouth open to breathe hot air inside, as if that might revive him that much faster (she didn't know CPR, but that was the closest thing to it). All the while, she could feel Ron's body heating up alongside her own. Yes, it was working! She just had to keep it up…where were those bloody Healers?
Suddenly, she felt a rush of liquid pour into her; Ron had orgasmed inside of her. She paused briefly, before continuing. She still had to come, and that was an excuse to keep up the warmth. A few minutes later, she did, all over him.
Exhausted, she rolled off of him, her legs and center painfully sore, waiting with the faintest hope that he would awaken. When that did not happen immediately, she distracted herself by cleaning her body, then Ron's, siphoning of their juices before dressing again. She felt like a slut, but she did not care. The loss of virginity had to happen sometime - and she had only ever wanted to lose it to Ron.
She checked on him a few minutes later. To her horror, the heat was gone; his body was cold.
She had failed. Ron was dead.
Harry and the rest of the Weasleys found her about an hour later, sobbing over his body.
