Death. What is it? Where do you go after you die? The dictionary says death is a noun. It says that death is when the soul leaves the body. But where does it go? What happens to it? Ron was staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Blood, bruises, scrapes and dust covered Ron's face, body and clothes. You could hardly see his bright red hair through the gray dust covering him.

Averting his eyes from the person looking back at him, a person he doesn't recognize anymore. So much happened in the last 24 hours. Yesterday he would have laughed at his own thoughts, but now, yesterday seemed so far away. They seemed so innocent yesterday. Yesterday. But now, they are no longer innocent. They are no longer children. Their young lives were ripped away from them, without them even realizing it straight away.

Ron turned the taps in the shower onto full blast. Hot water came rushing out, quickly steaming up the room, steaming up the mirror. Pulling his clothes off slowly, methodically, almost as if taking off his shirt, pants and even his socks required a huge amount of thinking force behind it. Ron stepped into the shower, after tweaking the heat a little bit of course.

Ron dipped his head under the spray, standing still for a moment. His wet hair was falling over his forehead, into his eyes. A face jumped into his head. And it isn't the face of his dead brother. Her name is Hermione. She's not smiling. She's not happy. She's not clean and shiny like he was always told girls are. She's staring at him. Straight at him. Her face was covered in ash. The tear stains over her cheeks were almost, very nearly covered in ash again.

And there it goes. Hermione's image was ripped from him as his head and his heart threw him into the memory of his dead, lifeless, limp brother lying on a table. Fred is dead. It's final. He's dead.

Sighing, Ron squeezed a bit of shampoo into his hand and started washing his hair. Taking a sponge and soap, Ron covered his body in soapy bubbles. Soapy bubbles that Fred will never experience again. He will never see soapy bubbles again. Rinsing himself and his hair off, Ron stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off with. Unfortunately for Ron, there was a knock on the door just as he was about to start getting dressed.

It's Hermione. He didn't have to open the door to know that it is her. Simply because they were the only one's at the Burrow. His mum, dad and the rest of his family were still at Hogwarts. His mum refused to leave Fred alone. It was almost like she wanted to stay with him, just in case he decided to come back to life. Like his soul just took a walk around the school grounds as a joy ride. But Ron knew this wasn't the case. Fred is dead. He's not coming back. His soul wasn't taking a walk around the school.

Pulling on a pair of black pajama pants, Ron yanked the bathroom door open. Hermione stood in front of him. Even when she looked like death had very nearly struck her down, she was still beautiful. Stunningly beautiful, even though she had the blood of good and bad people covering her face and her clothes. Hermione looked up at Ron and tried to plaster a smile on her face. He could see she was hurting inside. Not like him though.

Ron didn't feel anything. He was numb. No pain, no anger, no sorrow. Nothing. Completely and utterly numb.

"Sorry, I-I didn't know you were still busy." Hermione averted her eyes again. Ron smothered the urge to touch her chin and force her to look at him. But he couldn't do that. If she wanted to look at him, she would when she wanted too. Even if that didn't make a whole lot of sense at the moment, Ron knew what he was thinking. At least he thought he did.

"No problem. You want a cup of tea then?" Ron tried to sound casual, but he couldn't no matter how hard he tried. He was half naked, staring at the girl who just a few hours ago had launched herself at him and kissed the breath out of him.

"Yes please. That would be lovely. Thank you Ron." Hermione said in a whisper. Ron ran his hand up her arm. A simple gesture to let her know that he is and always will be there for her. He expected a smile. He expected a lot of different things. He expected his brothers to ALL return home. He expected Hermione to fall in love with him. He expected himself to marry her and make her happy. A small crack appeared in the things Ron expected when Hermione flung her arms around Ron's waist.

Awkwardly patting her back, Ron wanted t say soothing words to her. He wanted to calm her down and tell her that everything would be alright. But he couldn't. Nothing was like he expected anymore. Nothing fitted into the dream he had built for himself and Hermione. Ron wrapped his arms around her tiny frame. He stood there, simply holding her. She wasn't crying at all. She mumbled something into Ron's chest, but he figured he wasn't supposed to hear her anyway. If she wanted him to hear what she wanted to tell him, she would have pulled back and said it out loud.

"I'll go make us some tea, yeah? You go take a shower and then we'll go to bed." Ron said into Hermione's hair as she nodded slowly. Side stepping each other rather awkwardly, Ron made his way down stairs. He took the stairs one at a time. As slow as he could possibly walk. Fred would never walk down the stairs at the Burrow ever again.

Ron clutched his heart, or at least the area where he would put his heart. He didn't feel anything. Licking his chapped lips, Ron went to prepare their tea. This was never going to be over. The war would be with them until they each and everyone died. But Fred, Fred is dead. The war has left him be already. A small part of Ron was wishing the war had been so generous with him too. A small part that was slowly growing along with the nothingness in his heart. Ron mentally slapped himself. He was actually wishing that he had died along with Fred.

Ron bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Hermione was just upstairs, near naked, well, maybe she was already naked, and here he is, wishing that he was dead. "Merlin." Ron huffed as he boiled the water and set up their cups. There was no use using magic. Not yet anyway. It wouldn't feel right now anyway. Ron had gotten a little lost in his thoughts, so lost that in fact he didn't notice Hermione standing in the doorway staring at him.

She was simply breathtaking standing in the doorway. She was wearing a pair of shorts and one of his shirts. Ron had to admit, she looked beautiful in that shirt. Almost to the point that he didn't want her wearing anything else but his clothes, yet then he remembered that she might look even better if she wasn't wearing his clothes. Well, any clothes for that matter.

Giving himself another mental slap for thinking such dirty, depraved things when there was so much sorrow, so much death around them. She had walked into the kitchen at a slow pace. Ron could see she was thinking about something, but he didn't dare ask her. She was like a fragile animal. Any sudden movements would scare her off. This scared Ron, because if Hermione would take off somewhere, he doesn't know where she would go. All these years as best friends and he barely knew her at all.

Finishing the tea, Ron turned to Hermione, who had taken a seat at the counter. "Here you go." Her head snapped up to look Ron in the eyes, as he set her tea in front of her. Ron didn't move to sit next to her; instead he took his cup, and breathed in the aroma the tea was giving off as he leaned against the counter opposite Hermione. She looked dreadful, as was expected.

"Ron." Hermione whispered. She hadn't taken her eyes off him. He knew what was coming. The I'm-so-sorry-about-Fred speech. He didn't want it. Not now. He was just settling into the awkwardness that had surrounded them in this limited time.

"Don't. Please, I don't think I can handle it. Not right now." Ron said into his cup of tea. He didn't look at Hermione, and he knew why. He was afraid that when he looked at her, and saw the tears he was sure to find, he would crack. And he can't do that now. He has to stay strong for them. He has to stay strong for his mum and dad, for George and most importantly for Hermione.

She hadn't said anything about Malfoy Manor. She didn't have to. Neither Ron nor Harry had bugged her to talk about it. They left her alone, so that she could talk to them at her own pace. Ron scratched his head with his free arm. He's not so sure that leaving Hermione to her own devices was the best thing, but forcing her to talk wasn't going to help him either. So basically they were in the same boat. They would both talk when they felt like it, Ron thought.

"That's not… Ron, I'm leaving. I'm sure we all need some time to, well, "fix" ourselves. And I need to find my parents. I'll just, er, do both on my trip." Hermione looked down the entire time. Ron could sense the felt like a complete idiot for springing this on him now. But she was right, they both, well all of them needed time. But he'll be damned if he let her go alone.

"Okay. So, when are we leaving?" Hermione looked startled for a moment, but quickly composed herself. Ron didn't want to take on a scolding tome, but he knew it was necessary.

"Don't think for one second that you're leaving without me Hermione Granger." Hermione averted her eyes, making Ron chuckle. She looked appalled that he would dare laugh at her.

"It my problem Ron, not yours." Ron set down his tea and stared at Hermione. She closed her eyes, seemingly to think about something. And low and behold, she managed to come up with a lame excuse for wanting Ron to stay.

Sighing she simply said that Harry needs him, as well as his family. She made it sound preposterous to leave Harry alone at a time like this. Except Harry had Ginny there to keep him sane, to comfort him. Ginny was Harry's rock right now. Yes, he needed his friends, but come on. When you need to forget for a little while, you don't go around snogging your friends.

Ron knew this sounded silly, well because that's exactly what he wanted to do with Hermione. He wanted to snog her senseless so they could both live in the moment, for however long the moment was. Hermione was Ron's rock, she's keeping him sane, and now she wants him to stay away while she goes off somewhere, perhaps never to come back. He needed her now more than ever.

"He has Ginny. And you knew I would say that. You're out of excuses Hermione." Ron sighed and stepped toward her.

"I need this as much as you do Hermione." Ron stared at Hermione, needing, willing, no silently begging her to understand. Sighing and turning away from Hermione, not wanting to see the sudden sadness she harbored for him and his loss, Ron finished his tea and quietly rinsed out his cup.

"I'm going to bed. I guess I'm more tired than I thought. You're welcome to join me if you want." Ron said, stifling a yawn to get all the words out, causing Hermione to giggle quietly.

"You go on. I just want to finish my tea first. No need to wait for me." Hermione had a way to silence Ron. Nodding quickly, Ron turned and headed up to his room. A room that no longer really felt like it was his. It sure was a step up, no a giant leap up from the tent they had lived in for the past year, but it felt hollow, empty.

Hermione didn't come up to bed for a few hours after Ron had. He could tell that she had been crying, but chose not to ask her about it. She would talk when she was ready, yeah? She made a bee-line for the cot Harry usually slept in. the cot was small, and uncomfortable to say the least. And feeling bold, Ron wanted her to sleep next to him, just to have her close.

"Thought you were going to sleep downstairs." Hermione looked startled when he spoke suddenly, propping himself up on his elbow.

"I- sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, its fine. I was awake anyway. Come here. You're not sleeping in that old thing."

Hermione looked embarrassed for a minute, composing herself again quickly. She was a master at doing that, Ron noted.

"I- It's alright Ron. The cot is perfectly fine for me to sleep in." Hermione quickly said, most likely to cover her embarrassment Ron thought.

"Come here Hermione." Ron was about to get up to drag her into bed when she came willingly. They lay talking for most of the night, at least what was left of it. Hermione fell asleep facing Ron. His right arm was flung carelessly over Hermione's hip. Harry just happened to find them like this.