I wrote this for a friend, Morgan, since she's a fan of Harry/Ron. I'm not particularly fond of them but I like the way this story turned out, anyway.
Disclaimers: I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter, except for some copies of the book, but those don't really count. I also don't own the song "Wherever You Will Go". None of this is mine. Comprenez-vous? So don't sue me.
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The sun shone through the curtains in Harry Potter's bedroom. It was almost noon, and he was still asleep. Hermione sighed and closed the door, heading for the kitchen of the apartment they shared. More and more often, Harry had been sleeping until the early afternoon, and touring the bars once it got dark.
They were both twenty-one years old. Voldemort had been defeated a half-year earlier. Once Harry, Ron and Hermione had graduated from Hogwarts, they had all pitched in against You-Know-Who, and training to be Aurors. They had been restless all throughout the two months of training, anxious to actually do something.
After 'graduating', the trio had been sent off on various physically and emotionally gruelling assignments. Ron often returned with a blank look in his eyes after the particularly gruesome scenes. More than ever, the trio needed the support of one another, and had moved into a middle-sized flat in the heart of wizarding London when they were nineteen years old.
They made a good team. Hermione was the brains, Harry was the bravery, and Ron was the blind luck that often got them out of sticky situations. Although it was draining for all of them, frequent visits from Fred and George kept their spirits up, and Ron always had a joke to crack. They stuck together until one assignment.
Harry and Ron had been sitting in their living room, playing Exploding Snap and joking with each other, when Hermione had rushed in with an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic. They were all needed at a small confrontation that had rapidly gone very wrong. The ten Aurors that the Ministry had sent were vastly outnumbered in the ambush that Voldemort had set, and all available Aurors were desperately needed. The trio Apparated to the scene, and their jaws had dropped.
The Aurors were in a circle, back to back, surrounded by at least fifty Death Eaters, who were treating it as a chance to practice their Unforgivable Curses. Hermione stopped Harry and Ron from rushing out and confronting them, instead deciding that a sudden surprise would be best. So, with a sick feeling in his stomach, Harry had jumped out from behind a bush and used Avada Kedavra on as many Death Eaters as he could, all the while ducking their retaliations.
For the rest of the fight, Harry was an automaton. Duck, cast spell, repeat. Ten metres away, Hermione was doing the same. Ron was in the middle of the fray, and all Harry could see of him was his bright red hair.
Harry threw himself to one side, successfully avoiding the bright green streak of light that would have meant his death if it had hit him. He scrambled to his feet and raised his wand, prepared to obliterate the Death Eater who had thrown the spell at him. But as he looked around the clearing, he saw that there were no Death Eaters left. The ground was littered with bodies, and here and there an Auror stood, panting with exhaustion. Harry counted. There were five Aurors left, including himself. His brow furrowed as he realized something..
"Hermione, where's Ron?" he yelled, searching for Ron's hair among the bodies and hoping against hope that he didn't find that particular body. Hermione looked around the clearing, and when Ron wasn't there, began to scan the bodies as well. When neither of them could find their friend, they began to comb through the bushes, becoming more worried with every second that passed.
They gave up two hours later. All the other Aurors had Disapparated, and Harry and Hermione were faced with the awful realization that Ron was missing.
Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, do you suppose that the Death Eaters have him? Maybe we should contact You-Know-Who and ask him if they've got Ron.."
Harry leaned against a tree, bitter and shaking with fatigue. "Yes, I suppose we'll just walk up to Voldemort and ask him if he has time for a cup of tea and by the way do they have Ron?"
Hermione regarded Harry silently. She remembered the Triwizard Cup, and how Ron was the thing Harry would miss most. She didn't know how he would handle it now that Ron was truly gone. She walked over and took Harry's hand, using her remaining energy to Apparate back to their flat. Harry hugged Hermione lightly, and stumbled back to his room, still in shock. Hermione watched him go, sighed, and turned towards her own bedroom.
The moment Harry lay down, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Hermione stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning, trying to think of a way to tell Ron's mother. She had already lost a son, Percy, to Voldemort's minions. Hermione didn't want to make her pain worse by telling her that Ron might be dead, as well.
Harry woke up the next afternoon, his head pounding. For a moment, he thought that the day before had been a nightmare, but when he stumbled into Ron's room and found it empty, his hopes fell sharply. He closed his eyes, trying to will the tears not to fall.