"Come in," Hermione said softly. The door to her room opened and Ron
slipped inside. He smiled weakly at his friend and motioned at her to sit
on the bed.
"I want to talk to you," he said. Hermione sat down beside him and looked at him questioningly. Ron was never one to have heart-to-heart chats with. He was hardly ever serious, even with the war against Voldemort.
"I wanted to talk to you about what's happening," Ron said, "You know that Harry and I are going to fight,"
Hermione nodded, "I know that. I expected it, really,"
"Well, I want you to do something for me," Ron said, reaching into his pocket, "I want you to keep this for me,"
"What's this? A potion?" Hermione examined the vial in his hand. Ron nodded.
"It's a special potion. Hermione, if anything is to happen to me...I want you to promise that you will take this," he said, "It's called Impregivus, and it make you pregnant,"
"Oh," Hermione said simply, staring at the vial, "Ron, are you sure?"
"You're my best friend, Hermione. I don't know anyone who I'd rather do this. I just...don't want to let my parents down by not having children. I want to keep the name going,"
Hermione took the vial from his hand, wiping a tear from her eye. She examined its pinkish colored contents and looked back to Ron, "There's nothing I would rather do, Ronald. I promise,"
A teary grin spread across Ron's face. He took Hermione in his arms and they cried together. Neither thought the potion would ever need to be used, but both were frightened at the thought of losing one another.
The war went on, and on the day the war was won, a service was held for those who had been lost in the battle. Albus Dumbledore read a list of the casualties. Hermione sat numb, flinching whenever she heard a familiar name. Minerva McGonagall. Dean Thomas. Percy Weasley. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Seamus Finnegan. Cornelius Fudge. Ronald Weasley. He was gone. Hermione went home that night to an empty house. She went straight to her bedroom and opened up the very bottom drawer in her desk. Underneath a pile of jumpers, she extracted a small mahogany box. Setting it on her bed, she opened it and pulled out old letters and photos. She wept bitterly, reading notes that Ron had passed during classes, gazing at wizard and muggle pictures of her red haired friend. Her best friend. She had never been romantically involved with Ron, but she loved him. He was like a brother to her. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Hermione pulled a small velvet satchel from the bottom of the box. She sat on her bed with her knees pulled into her chest. Hermione opened the satchel and extracted a small vile of pinkish fluid; the Impregivus potion Ron had given to her. She turned the vile in her fingers, tears flowing again. She remembered her promise. She couldn't forget it.
"I want to talk to you," he said. Hermione sat down beside him and looked at him questioningly. Ron was never one to have heart-to-heart chats with. He was hardly ever serious, even with the war against Voldemort.
"I wanted to talk to you about what's happening," Ron said, "You know that Harry and I are going to fight,"
Hermione nodded, "I know that. I expected it, really,"
"Well, I want you to do something for me," Ron said, reaching into his pocket, "I want you to keep this for me,"
"What's this? A potion?" Hermione examined the vial in his hand. Ron nodded.
"It's a special potion. Hermione, if anything is to happen to me...I want you to promise that you will take this," he said, "It's called Impregivus, and it make you pregnant,"
"Oh," Hermione said simply, staring at the vial, "Ron, are you sure?"
"You're my best friend, Hermione. I don't know anyone who I'd rather do this. I just...don't want to let my parents down by not having children. I want to keep the name going,"
Hermione took the vial from his hand, wiping a tear from her eye. She examined its pinkish colored contents and looked back to Ron, "There's nothing I would rather do, Ronald. I promise,"
A teary grin spread across Ron's face. He took Hermione in his arms and they cried together. Neither thought the potion would ever need to be used, but both were frightened at the thought of losing one another.
The war went on, and on the day the war was won, a service was held for those who had been lost in the battle. Albus Dumbledore read a list of the casualties. Hermione sat numb, flinching whenever she heard a familiar name. Minerva McGonagall. Dean Thomas. Percy Weasley. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Seamus Finnegan. Cornelius Fudge. Ronald Weasley. He was gone. Hermione went home that night to an empty house. She went straight to her bedroom and opened up the very bottom drawer in her desk. Underneath a pile of jumpers, she extracted a small mahogany box. Setting it on her bed, she opened it and pulled out old letters and photos. She wept bitterly, reading notes that Ron had passed during classes, gazing at wizard and muggle pictures of her red haired friend. Her best friend. She had never been romantically involved with Ron, but she loved him. He was like a brother to her. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Hermione pulled a small velvet satchel from the bottom of the box. She sat on her bed with her knees pulled into her chest. Hermione opened the satchel and extracted a small vile of pinkish fluid; the Impregivus potion Ron had given to her. She turned the vile in her fingers, tears flowing again. She remembered her promise. She couldn't forget it.