Title: Sacrifice the Knight
Chapter: 1/1
Author: Dancho
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.
Summery: Ron comes home to tell Hermione something important, but she doesn't take it very well.
Pairings: Ron/Hermione
WARNINGS!: Character death (strongly implied -- Off screen) and angst. One flashback moment and slight oddness with no real explanation. (Hermione/Ron live together but they're still at school?)
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"Hermione? Are you still awake?" Ron asked as he walked over to the couch and touched Hermione's shoulder.
"Huh? Wha? OH! RON! You're back!"
"What are you doing still up?"
"You were just so late and I was so worried… So I wanted to wait up for you."
"You're in no condition to be sleeping on the sofa, 'Mione. You should be in bed," Ron smiled slightly as he lifted Hermione off the couch and began to carry her to their bedroom.
"I'm not that far along! Only three months, you can barely notice!"
"I know. Just let me carry you, okay?"
"Ron? Ron, what's wrong? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine, 'Mione."
"What happened? What's going to happen? You don't look well."
"'Mione, I love you."
"Love you, too," Hermione replied as Ron set her down on the bed. "But what does that…"
"Isn't that enough?" Ron asked as he handed Hermione her PJs and motioned for her to change. "Isn't it enough to know that I love you… and the baby?"
"No, damn it! Tell me, Ron!" Hermione cried, nearly frantic with worry. Ron turned to go and Hermione almost leapt out of bed in her hurry to stop him. "I'm your fiancé! Tell me, or I'll call for Harry in the fire. He'll tell me."
"He won't tell you."
"Then I'll ask until someone does!"
"You shouldn't have to worry."
"I'm worrying right now," Hermione sniffed, close to tears.
"I volunteered to go on a distraction."
"A distraction?"
"We need to get a few people into the ministry and we've got to distract the Death Eaters."
"You'll be killed."
"Probably; they only took volunteers."
"And you agreed? But… But… WHY?"
"I'm not a very strong wizard, 'Mione; we both know that. They need people with experience and brains to protect Harry. We need to get people in there like Percy or Tonks. I'm only good as a decoy."
"No! Didn't anyone try to stop you? Why did they take you?"
"Harry was against it, but I told him what I'll tell you."
"And what's that?" Hermione whispered.
"Do you remember how we won the chess game in our first year?"
"It's the only way. I've got to be taken."
"NO!"
"That's Chess. You've got to make some sacrifices!"
"I remember."
"Life is chess, 'Mione."
"But why do you need to sacrifice yourself? Why do you need to sacrifice us?"
"That's just it! It's for us! For our baby. I believe that this will do some good. This will be our last stand and, if we win, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will die. They need all the powerful wizards they can get on the inside; I need to help them win. For the baby, 'Mione," Ron choked out, tears forming in his eyes. He looked up at Hermione and a tear fell from his eye. "I didn't do it lightly, 'Mione. I volunteered when there was no one else to help."
"Ron…" Hermione sobbed and hugged him tightly. They were both crying, their tears making vision difficult.
"God, just say you understand! Please?"
"I understand. I understand," Hermione sobbed and the couple just stood there, holding each other.
The next morning, before the sun rose, Ron dressed without turning on the lights; he moved silently, as to not wake Hermione. As he opened the door to the hall, he was surprised to see Hermione sitting in the living room.
"You didn't think I'd be letting you go alone, did you?" Hermione ask as she rose. "I'll be going with you. We still together, right?"
"But what if you get hurt?"
"And what if you get hurt? I'm not going to raise a kid under He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and I'll die on the field, because I'm not going to run for the rest of my life," Hermione replied, lifting her chin defiantly. "We're going to fight together Ron, for better or worse. I don't need a silly wedding vow to tell me that."
"Hermione…"
"Besides, someone needs to look out for you."
"You're the bravest witch ever, 'Mione. A true Weasley."
"And you're the bravest wizard. Your family should be so proud of you, Ron; I know I am."
They walked out the door and Ron locked it before they left the apartment building, hand in hand, without looking back.
They didn't come back.
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Seven years later, the door to the small apartment finally opened and an older Harry Potter was carried in by Remus Lupin.
"I guess it's yours, Harry," Lupin whispered, almost as if scared of disturbing the silence of so many isolated years.
"I don't really want it, but I can't sell it, you know?"
"I know."
"Will you do it? Give the money to the Ginny, Fred and Percy?"
"All right. What about Hermione's family?"
"I wrote them an owl about a year ago, explaining what happened. They made it clear they didn't want to hear from me anymore," Harry sighed and Lupin set him down on the sofa. Harry rubbed his right leg; it was an old, worthless habit, because he couldn't feel his legs anymore. "I still can't believe they're dead. It's been almost eight years, five of fighting and three of getting up enough nerve to come here, but it still doesn't feel real."
"It was a shock. At least… they went down together at the ministry," Lupin replied, trying to make Harry feel better.
"I know. They were so stupid. They shouldn't have even been there, ready to die with each other. We were only eighteen, Lupin. We were all so stupid and… and…"
"And?"
"And stupidly brave," Harry trailed off as he looked over and saw a chess piece on the desk across the room. "What's that?"
"A chess piece. The knight. It seems to be broken, actually," Lupin replied as he picked up the three pieces of the shattered knight and gave it to Harry.
"Ron always was a sacrificing knight. I guess Hermione was too, in the end," Harry laughed, as he took out his wand and repaired the broken piece. Harry stared at the piece for a moment before looking back up at Lupin.
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"I just can't figure out why I wasn't as well."
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AN: The end! Wow, I don't even know why I wrote that. It just started with a reference to the first year chess game and grew from there. I'm sick. Grins