Chapter Nine
Broken Dreams
That year had been a total blur. Ron had taken up so much, living with his brother, getting a new job, and trying to get along without Harry. He had cried for weeks after the attack, and still found it hard to think of him. Ron wasn't even sure if he could handle going to the cemetery again, but he knew that today, the anniversary of the day Harry had died exactly one year ago, he had to.
Ron knelt on the soft, wet ground, his hands at his sides, hanging limply. He pushed his wet hair from his face and his red eyes stared at the graves. He sniffed and touched his Father's headstone; the engraved words brought more tears to his eyes.
Arthur Weasley, a loving father and a great friend.
"I miss you so much," muttered Ron, looking at the other headstones, the rain falling even heavier on his body.
"We all miss them," agreed a voice.
Ron turned and saw Hermione standing there, dressed in black and holding an umbrella. Her face looked extremely pale, but she wore a small smile. Her hair was shorter, much shorter than normal and she looked so much older, so much more grown up that he remembered her. Ron had missed her, having gone a year without seeing her.
"Hi Hermione," Ron whispered, getting to his feet.
"Hi Ron," she muttered. "How have you been?"
"I've been alright, I guess," said Ron. "You?"
"Fine," she said. "Stared teaching last year; Arithmancy and Muggle Studies."
Ron smiled and looked into Hermione's eyes, they held a false sort of happiness.
"So, how is old Hogwarts?" asked Ron.
"It's fine, I suppose. It's just not the same without Dumbledore," she explained. "I mean, McGonagall's doing her best, but it's just not the same."
Ron nodded and Hermione pushed some of her hair aside.
"What have you been up to?" asked Hermione.
"Took my Dad's job at the Ministry of Magic," explained Ron. "Lots of work to do, not enough time either I'm afraid."
Hermione nodded and her eyes shifted to Harry's grave, then to Dumbledore's. Small tears rolled down her cheek and her face dropped.
"You still miss them?" asked Ron.
Hermione nodded and Ron touched her shoulder. Hermione looked up at him from under the umbrella.
"I always had a feeling this would happen," Hermione confessed. "And even after a year, I still can't believe they are really gone."
Ron looked at her and a tear slid down her cheek. She looked so sad and yet so beautiful. Ron put his arm around her and he sniffled just once.
"I always wake up, thinking I'll see Mum and Dad in the kitchen, or Harry out playing Quidditch," muttered Ron, his voice shaking. "But I never do, I just can't face it."
Hermione hugged Ron and more tears came. He looked down at the ground.
"Harry's safe now," said Hermione. "He's with his family."
Ron nodded and opened the small wooden box. Inside were four red roses and he set one next to each of the graves. He wiped the tears from his face and sighed.
"We miss you so much," he whispered, his lip trembling. "You have no idea how much this hurts."
Hermione hugged him and she kissed his cheek. He had never felt this safe, or this much comfort. He knew that deep down he loved Hermione, but she didn't feel the same way, she never had.she never would.
Hermione took his hand and they walked out of the cemetery, Hermione walking quietly with him. She kept hold of his hand but it hurt more than it helped. Truth was Ron felt he was dying inside, little by little, day by day. He hated feeling like this, knowing he loved Hermione so much and she felt nothing. They had talked about it at the funerals, and Hermione told him she was very interested in Viktor Krum. They had been seeing each other on and off since her fourth year. Hermione was very much in love with Viktor, but Ron wished him dead.
Broken Dreams
That year had been a total blur. Ron had taken up so much, living with his brother, getting a new job, and trying to get along without Harry. He had cried for weeks after the attack, and still found it hard to think of him. Ron wasn't even sure if he could handle going to the cemetery again, but he knew that today, the anniversary of the day Harry had died exactly one year ago, he had to.
Ron knelt on the soft, wet ground, his hands at his sides, hanging limply. He pushed his wet hair from his face and his red eyes stared at the graves. He sniffed and touched his Father's headstone; the engraved words brought more tears to his eyes.
Arthur Weasley, a loving father and a great friend.
"I miss you so much," muttered Ron, looking at the other headstones, the rain falling even heavier on his body.
"We all miss them," agreed a voice.
Ron turned and saw Hermione standing there, dressed in black and holding an umbrella. Her face looked extremely pale, but she wore a small smile. Her hair was shorter, much shorter than normal and she looked so much older, so much more grown up that he remembered her. Ron had missed her, having gone a year without seeing her.
"Hi Hermione," Ron whispered, getting to his feet.
"Hi Ron," she muttered. "How have you been?"
"I've been alright, I guess," said Ron. "You?"
"Fine," she said. "Stared teaching last year; Arithmancy and Muggle Studies."
Ron smiled and looked into Hermione's eyes, they held a false sort of happiness.
"So, how is old Hogwarts?" asked Ron.
"It's fine, I suppose. It's just not the same without Dumbledore," she explained. "I mean, McGonagall's doing her best, but it's just not the same."
Ron nodded and Hermione pushed some of her hair aside.
"What have you been up to?" asked Hermione.
"Took my Dad's job at the Ministry of Magic," explained Ron. "Lots of work to do, not enough time either I'm afraid."
Hermione nodded and her eyes shifted to Harry's grave, then to Dumbledore's. Small tears rolled down her cheek and her face dropped.
"You still miss them?" asked Ron.
Hermione nodded and Ron touched her shoulder. Hermione looked up at him from under the umbrella.
"I always had a feeling this would happen," Hermione confessed. "And even after a year, I still can't believe they are really gone."
Ron looked at her and a tear slid down her cheek. She looked so sad and yet so beautiful. Ron put his arm around her and he sniffled just once.
"I always wake up, thinking I'll see Mum and Dad in the kitchen, or Harry out playing Quidditch," muttered Ron, his voice shaking. "But I never do, I just can't face it."
Hermione hugged Ron and more tears came. He looked down at the ground.
"Harry's safe now," said Hermione. "He's with his family."
Ron nodded and opened the small wooden box. Inside were four red roses and he set one next to each of the graves. He wiped the tears from his face and sighed.
"We miss you so much," he whispered, his lip trembling. "You have no idea how much this hurts."
Hermione hugged him and she kissed his cheek. He had never felt this safe, or this much comfort. He knew that deep down he loved Hermione, but she didn't feel the same way, she never had.she never would.
Hermione took his hand and they walked out of the cemetery, Hermione walking quietly with him. She kept hold of his hand but it hurt more than it helped. Truth was Ron felt he was dying inside, little by little, day by day. He hated feeling like this, knowing he loved Hermione so much and she felt nothing. They had talked about it at the funerals, and Hermione told him she was very interested in Viktor Krum. They had been seeing each other on and off since her fourth year. Hermione was very much in love with Viktor, but Ron wished him dead.
