Disclaimer: All to J.K. Rowlings
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one is between Ron and Hermione. I figured that it takes place one night while they were in Madame Pomfrey's care soon after the fight at the Department of Mysteries in OotP. It's mostly just about Hermione sort of being in a bit of shock or trauma and how she feels. First Ron, then Hermione, etc.
~~Aftermath~~
"Are you all right?"
"F-fine...Really."
"You don't look it."
"No, I don't imagine I would. I have been hit with a very powerful curse only recently, in case you haven't noticed."
"I've noticed."
"Well, that's something."
"Hermione? What's the matter?"
"N-nothing. I'm fine."
"Even I know that's a lie."
"What do you want me to say, Ron? I feel terrible. I ache all over and I can hardly remember anything that happened that night. All I know for sure is that Sirius isn't here anymore and I don't know why!"
"Because he fell, Hermione."
"So? I've fallen many times! And I always managed to get back on my feet. Why can't he?"
"Because he's dead."
"But why? Why is he dead? Why is he gone? It--I just--Nothing makes any sense anymore. I--I can't..."
"Hermione, it's a fact of life. Everybody dies."
"I know! I know. But why him? Why now? Things were finally beginning to look up for him. He'd begun to tak control of his life; he was starting to make something of himself. He was so close to being his own person. Why did that, of all things, get taken away from him?"
"I-I don't know. We can't control these things."
"Why? Why can't we control how we live and how we die? I--I just don't understand...He can't be dead. He shouldn't be dead. I can still see him as he was at Christmas, laughing and smiling. Why can't he be like that anymore?"
"Because he's dead..."
"Yes! You've said that! He is dead! I know! But I don't know why. I need to know why! Why can't he just, I don't know, come back? It doesn't make any sense! He was there! I know he was! Alive and fighting one minute and--and dead and gone the next. I don't understand any of this. He shouldn't be dead. There must be something we can do?"
"You can't bring people back from the dead, Hermione."
"Why not? If everything I learned in Sunday school as a child was--is-- true, then it should be possible. We should be able to bring him back. It should be able to happen."
"We're not God, Hermione."
"And that brings up another point! What sort of God would take away someone like him? He was a good and honest man. He was happy, for the most part, and he was...well, he was Padfoot."
"I know. But you can't change the way the world operates."
"It's stupid."
"What is?"
"That we have to sit here and fight battles that won't even matter in the next few decades. Everything we do here will be obsolete in just a short time...Think about it. In our lifetime big things will happen, at least they'll seem big to us, but in the long run it's all insignificant. He died for a useless cause. A cause that even God doesn't deem worthy enough to take part in."
"That's very depressing..."
"But it's true."
"No. It isn't."
"Oh, yeah? Why not?"
"Because we fight for something good, not merely for the sake of fighting. We try for something better. To make life better than it is now."
"And we're not any closer to winning now then we were when we started."
"Not much, but we're getting there."
"But we can't go on much longer at this pace. Pretty soon we'll all be dead and everything we fought against will take over. They're still a little stronger and a little better prepared than us. We just happened to be very lucky so far."
"Then we'll just keep being lucky, I guess. It's bound to keep us safe for a little bit longer."
"You're very optimistic."
"Yeah, and you're not."
"No. I'm realistic."
"Yeah. Something like that."
"I still..."
"Still what?"
"Wish he wasn't dead."
"Don't cry..."
"I'm not crying. Not really. I'm just remembering. And...and I don't much like remembering."
"I don't suppose you would."
"How--how come you can remember and not cry?"
"I don't know. I guess I'm crying on the inside."
"No you're not."
"No, I'm not. But I'm very sad. You know that kind of sad? The one where you're not entirely sure if you'll ever be happy again? That's kind of like crying."
"I guess it is."
"Yeah."
"Do you think that maybe he would've been all right if we hadn't been-- taken out of action? Do you think we could've made a difference?"
"Probably not."
"I didn't think so."
"But maybe we could've helped Harry catch that lady after she...well, after she--you know. Maybe we could've changed that. But--I think he still would have fallen."
"You're probably right. I just wish we could've done a bit more than we did."
"Yeah, me too."
"And I wish we could've seen him one last time."
"Me too."
"But--he doesn't have to fight anymore, does he?"
"No."
"I wish I could join him."
"No you don't."
"Don't be so sharp with me. And, yes I do."
"No, love, you don't. You want to live."
"You just called me love."
"I know."
"Good, but I still wish I didn't have to fight anymore."
"Someday you won't."
"I hope you're right."
"I hope I am too."
Pause.
"But what if you're wrong?"
"Oh, come on. I thought you'd finally gone to sleep. Can't we finish this in the morning?"
"No. I don't think I'll remember very much of this in the morning."
"All the better for me..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Go on."
"What if you're wrong about everything?" What if the fighting doesn't end? What if we lose the fight? Or what if one of us dies fighting? Like me, or Harry, or you? What if that happens?"
"It won't happen."
"How are you so sure?"
"It won't happen because I won't let it. We're best friends; all of us. The best kind of friends too. You know the sort I mean. Nobody that's close like we are will die."
"Are you sure? Romeo and Juliet were close to one another."
"I don't know who they are, exactly, but I suppose it's something Muggle, eh?"
"And all of those people from the Lord of the Rings books died. And one of them was a king."
"Again, that's probably Muggle. Though why being the lord of a ring is so special, I don't know."
"And what about Emily from OUR TOWN? She even had a son and a husband. She shouldn't have died. And--and Mufasa from the Lion King. And Princess Diana with her family, and Grace Kelly, and George Jung. All right, he isn't exactly dead, but he might as well be. And Buddy Holly, John Lennon, and millions of others."
"Again with the Muggle! Don't you have some wizard analogies?"
"The point is, they were as close as we are, if not more, and they died. Who's to say we won't die."
"Look, we may die eventually, but I'll try my hardest to stop that. You believe me, don't you?"
"Not really."
"It's hard to be nice to when you're acting so...difficult."
"I'm not being difficult. I'm being practical and truthful."
"Either way, it makes no difference to me. I'm only trying to be kind."
"Well, you're doing a lousy job of it."
"What? I've done my part. I've comforted you, I've tried to help you understand, but I'm not your bloody mother! I'm doing the best I can."
"Yes, but you're still doing a lousy job."
"Sorry."
"You don't sound sorry."
"I'm sure I don't."
"You don't have to be so cruel."
"Look, I'm trying! What do you want me to do? Cry like a bloody baby? Do you want me to be bawling my eyes out like you?"
"As a matter of fact, that would make me feel better."
"Well, too bad. I'm not crying. Not for anyone."
"I didn't think you would."
"Good. 'Cause I won't"
Pause.
"How do you suppose Harry's holding up?"
"Again with the talking. Hermione, I just want to go to sleep. Please. You can talk to Harry about it in the morning."
"No, he won't want to talk about it."
"Hermione, did you ever think that I don't want to talk about it?"
"No, I hadn't."
"Well start thinking about it."
Pause.
"Ron, can I say one more thing?"
"Like I could bloody stop you."
"I wish none of this had ever happened. Voldemort, Ministry of magic, Sirius. None of it."
"Yeah. Me too."
Pause.
"Ron?"
"What is it now?"
"C-could you please--I'm scared and sad and I...Could you hold me?"
"What?"
"Please. Just hold me. Nothing more. Just stay with me tonight. For once, I couldn't care less what the teachers will say. Just hold me."
"You're not acting like yourself, Hermione..."
"I know. But nobody's been acting like themselves lately."
"That's true..."
"Just do as I say and hold me, Ron."
"Fine, fine..."
Pause.
"Goodnight, Ron."
"Goodnight, Hermione."
~`~`~`~`~
I know this wasn't a very good one, but it's sort of how I reacted when someone in my family died recently. Though, I will admit, I was with family. But similar thoughts kept running through my head and I just supposed this is how Hermione would act if she were in any way like me at all. Well, I hope you enjoyed it. Please review.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one is between Ron and Hermione. I figured that it takes place one night while they were in Madame Pomfrey's care soon after the fight at the Department of Mysteries in OotP. It's mostly just about Hermione sort of being in a bit of shock or trauma and how she feels. First Ron, then Hermione, etc.
~~Aftermath~~
"Are you all right?"
"F-fine...Really."
"You don't look it."
"No, I don't imagine I would. I have been hit with a very powerful curse only recently, in case you haven't noticed."
"I've noticed."
"Well, that's something."
"Hermione? What's the matter?"
"N-nothing. I'm fine."
"Even I know that's a lie."
"What do you want me to say, Ron? I feel terrible. I ache all over and I can hardly remember anything that happened that night. All I know for sure is that Sirius isn't here anymore and I don't know why!"
"Because he fell, Hermione."
"So? I've fallen many times! And I always managed to get back on my feet. Why can't he?"
"Because he's dead."
"But why? Why is he dead? Why is he gone? It--I just--Nothing makes any sense anymore. I--I can't..."
"Hermione, it's a fact of life. Everybody dies."
"I know! I know. But why him? Why now? Things were finally beginning to look up for him. He'd begun to tak control of his life; he was starting to make something of himself. He was so close to being his own person. Why did that, of all things, get taken away from him?"
"I-I don't know. We can't control these things."
"Why? Why can't we control how we live and how we die? I--I just don't understand...He can't be dead. He shouldn't be dead. I can still see him as he was at Christmas, laughing and smiling. Why can't he be like that anymore?"
"Because he's dead..."
"Yes! You've said that! He is dead! I know! But I don't know why. I need to know why! Why can't he just, I don't know, come back? It doesn't make any sense! He was there! I know he was! Alive and fighting one minute and--and dead and gone the next. I don't understand any of this. He shouldn't be dead. There must be something we can do?"
"You can't bring people back from the dead, Hermione."
"Why not? If everything I learned in Sunday school as a child was--is-- true, then it should be possible. We should be able to bring him back. It should be able to happen."
"We're not God, Hermione."
"And that brings up another point! What sort of God would take away someone like him? He was a good and honest man. He was happy, for the most part, and he was...well, he was Padfoot."
"I know. But you can't change the way the world operates."
"It's stupid."
"What is?"
"That we have to sit here and fight battles that won't even matter in the next few decades. Everything we do here will be obsolete in just a short time...Think about it. In our lifetime big things will happen, at least they'll seem big to us, but in the long run it's all insignificant. He died for a useless cause. A cause that even God doesn't deem worthy enough to take part in."
"That's very depressing..."
"But it's true."
"No. It isn't."
"Oh, yeah? Why not?"
"Because we fight for something good, not merely for the sake of fighting. We try for something better. To make life better than it is now."
"And we're not any closer to winning now then we were when we started."
"Not much, but we're getting there."
"But we can't go on much longer at this pace. Pretty soon we'll all be dead and everything we fought against will take over. They're still a little stronger and a little better prepared than us. We just happened to be very lucky so far."
"Then we'll just keep being lucky, I guess. It's bound to keep us safe for a little bit longer."
"You're very optimistic."
"Yeah, and you're not."
"No. I'm realistic."
"Yeah. Something like that."
"I still..."
"Still what?"
"Wish he wasn't dead."
"Don't cry..."
"I'm not crying. Not really. I'm just remembering. And...and I don't much like remembering."
"I don't suppose you would."
"How--how come you can remember and not cry?"
"I don't know. I guess I'm crying on the inside."
"No you're not."
"No, I'm not. But I'm very sad. You know that kind of sad? The one where you're not entirely sure if you'll ever be happy again? That's kind of like crying."
"I guess it is."
"Yeah."
"Do you think that maybe he would've been all right if we hadn't been-- taken out of action? Do you think we could've made a difference?"
"Probably not."
"I didn't think so."
"But maybe we could've helped Harry catch that lady after she...well, after she--you know. Maybe we could've changed that. But--I think he still would have fallen."
"You're probably right. I just wish we could've done a bit more than we did."
"Yeah, me too."
"And I wish we could've seen him one last time."
"Me too."
"But--he doesn't have to fight anymore, does he?"
"No."
"I wish I could join him."
"No you don't."
"Don't be so sharp with me. And, yes I do."
"No, love, you don't. You want to live."
"You just called me love."
"I know."
"Good, but I still wish I didn't have to fight anymore."
"Someday you won't."
"I hope you're right."
"I hope I am too."
Pause.
"But what if you're wrong?"
"Oh, come on. I thought you'd finally gone to sleep. Can't we finish this in the morning?"
"No. I don't think I'll remember very much of this in the morning."
"All the better for me..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Go on."
"What if you're wrong about everything?" What if the fighting doesn't end? What if we lose the fight? Or what if one of us dies fighting? Like me, or Harry, or you? What if that happens?"
"It won't happen."
"How are you so sure?"
"It won't happen because I won't let it. We're best friends; all of us. The best kind of friends too. You know the sort I mean. Nobody that's close like we are will die."
"Are you sure? Romeo and Juliet were close to one another."
"I don't know who they are, exactly, but I suppose it's something Muggle, eh?"
"And all of those people from the Lord of the Rings books died. And one of them was a king."
"Again, that's probably Muggle. Though why being the lord of a ring is so special, I don't know."
"And what about Emily from OUR TOWN? She even had a son and a husband. She shouldn't have died. And--and Mufasa from the Lion King. And Princess Diana with her family, and Grace Kelly, and George Jung. All right, he isn't exactly dead, but he might as well be. And Buddy Holly, John Lennon, and millions of others."
"Again with the Muggle! Don't you have some wizard analogies?"
"The point is, they were as close as we are, if not more, and they died. Who's to say we won't die."
"Look, we may die eventually, but I'll try my hardest to stop that. You believe me, don't you?"
"Not really."
"It's hard to be nice to when you're acting so...difficult."
"I'm not being difficult. I'm being practical and truthful."
"Either way, it makes no difference to me. I'm only trying to be kind."
"Well, you're doing a lousy job of it."
"What? I've done my part. I've comforted you, I've tried to help you understand, but I'm not your bloody mother! I'm doing the best I can."
"Yes, but you're still doing a lousy job."
"Sorry."
"You don't sound sorry."
"I'm sure I don't."
"You don't have to be so cruel."
"Look, I'm trying! What do you want me to do? Cry like a bloody baby? Do you want me to be bawling my eyes out like you?"
"As a matter of fact, that would make me feel better."
"Well, too bad. I'm not crying. Not for anyone."
"I didn't think you would."
"Good. 'Cause I won't"
Pause.
"How do you suppose Harry's holding up?"
"Again with the talking. Hermione, I just want to go to sleep. Please. You can talk to Harry about it in the morning."
"No, he won't want to talk about it."
"Hermione, did you ever think that I don't want to talk about it?"
"No, I hadn't."
"Well start thinking about it."
Pause.
"Ron, can I say one more thing?"
"Like I could bloody stop you."
"I wish none of this had ever happened. Voldemort, Ministry of magic, Sirius. None of it."
"Yeah. Me too."
Pause.
"Ron?"
"What is it now?"
"C-could you please--I'm scared and sad and I...Could you hold me?"
"What?"
"Please. Just hold me. Nothing more. Just stay with me tonight. For once, I couldn't care less what the teachers will say. Just hold me."
"You're not acting like yourself, Hermione..."
"I know. But nobody's been acting like themselves lately."
"That's true..."
"Just do as I say and hold me, Ron."
"Fine, fine..."
Pause.
"Goodnight, Ron."
"Goodnight, Hermione."
~`~`~`~`~
I know this wasn't a very good one, but it's sort of how I reacted when someone in my family died recently. Though, I will admit, I was with family. But similar thoughts kept running through my head and I just supposed this is how Hermione would act if she were in any way like me at all. Well, I hope you enjoyed it. Please review.