A gray, cold darkness settled overhead. No birds chirping, no insects were buzzing. Nothing was moving, nothing was making noise. A cold, dry sob ricocheted through the cemetery, sounding like a gunshot. A young woman with long, bushy, light brown hair with matching dark brown eyes was leaning against a tombstone, crying her heart out. Crying for so many wrong things in the world. The thought occurred to her that her crying would fix the problems, fix them in the ways that she couldn't. She began clutching at her head, rocking back and forth, lost in grief. A golden ring glinted on her left hand, even though the burial place would not be graced with the presence of sunlight.

Suddenly, a small tendril off of the weeping willow overhead dropped on the ground beside her, catching her attention. She stared at it, unsure of what it meant. The tree was sending her a sign, of course. She glanced up at the stationary tree, and a smile slowly spread across her face. "I never understood why you wanted to be buried under one of these. They used to be my favorite. They are so incredibly messy. I have to get the caretaker out here every day to clean it up..." she said in a sweet rambling voice, but when she realized what she just said, the realization of his death hit her and more tears poured down her face. "I came here to talk to you. I need to get this out. Things I never said," she said in a determined voice, but she knew she might crumble any moment.

I loved you so much. No, not a schoolgirl crush, not some desperate attempt at liking you, but the real, deep, inescapable thing. You have always been there for me, my companion, my protector, my instigator. You always knew what pushed my buttons, what turned me on...You were always there. Until now," she said

"In the first year, ohhh, you made me so mad with your words, but the things you did more than made up for them. When you came into the bathroom after me and that troll, I saw you and knew I was saved. When I saw you getting stuck down by that stone chess queen, I thought my heart had shattered. It was then, at that point that I knew I felt something for you." She paused for a moment, staring at the engraving etched in the stone, lost in thought.

"Second year. This is when I got to know more about you, I got to study you," she stopped, sniffling, "you know me and studying." When you crashed into the Whomping Willow, I panicked; I hoped nothing horrible had happened to you. When I heard you were okay and gloating, I was mad at you for being so stupid. That time you stood up for me against...Malfoy...and got cursed with slugs, I knew I was falling. "When I was Petrified...,"she stuttered, a violent shudder coursing through her body, and she began to cry once again. "When I was Petrified," she began again, controlling herself this time, "It was horrible, you've got no idea," she said, looking at the ground in front of the grave where the grass was just starting to grow back. "Maybe you do." At this point she had her face in her hands, but her words were as clear as ever. "I could hear you talking to me, comforting me, worried for me. I never told anyone I could hear them, when I was in that dark place. When you came for that secret midnight visit, and told me what was on your mind, that you missed me and loved me to no end. I desperately wanted to tell you I felt the same way. But I couldn't. When I had woken up, I told myself I could never tell you how I felt. I was ashamed and embarrassed, and I acted like I couldn't hear you. Life went on."

"Our third year came all too quickly. They way we argued so much, I thought I was beginning to hate you as much I loved you. I realized that you had other sides to your personality, other emotions that you rarely showed. I didn't like these emotions. When we were going after Peter," she spat out this last part, and she hated the way it sounded on her tongue. "you got pulled into the Whomping Willow once again; I thought you would disappear forever, into the bottom of that tree. When everything was sorted out, we had a pretty nice end to the year, didn't we?" A strong breezed sifted through the graveyard, whipping her long bushy hair into her face, but she didn't push it away. She didn't care about her hair. She only cared about the corpse that lay six feet under her own body.

"Once again, we had an eventful year. We still argued a lot, and when Victor came around, you got so jealous. I thought I liked him, and all I really wanted was to get my mind off of you. I didn't want to love you anymore, I wanted out. I was jealous when you went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil, so insanely jealous. When Rita Skeeter said I was having a love affair with Harry, I wanted to scream and shout. I wanted to tell the world that I loved you. I wanted them to understand the devotion and uttermost infatuation that I had with you. I wanted to proclaim my love for you and you alone."

"In our fifth year, and even before that, I became even more interested in you. We spent so much time in Grimmauld Place together. Do you remember, right before Harry first came to that awful place, we were sitting on the bed together, just exchanging small talk? Remember how I was pacing and sweating and rambling? I was going to spill everything to you. I was tired of keeping it to myself, I wanted you to know it all. But when Harry came in and began yelling, I put it off once again. When you were Keeper of the Quidditch team, and when you won the Cup, I was so very proud of you. No longer were you just the little brother of Fred and George, you were your own persona, and I liked you for it. When we went to the Ministry of Magic to save Sirius, and all of that happened, just the thought of you getting hurt again crushed my soul. Afterwards, when that horrible brain was removed from you, I think it left something behind. You had a haunted look to your eyes, and you seemed so much deeper and thoughtful, like the brain left you wiser than I would ever be. I don't think I ever saw you smile again. It was very strange to see you like that." She took a deep breath, and stopped talking for a few minutes. She gazed over the flat, brown ground that was the cemetery, taking in its grim landscape and the macabre purpose it served. To suck loved ones into its depths and never letting them go, the loved ones never again to reach the surface of our world.

"In our sixth year, nothing really happened. Rumors about...Voldemort spread like wildfire, but nothing really took place. Remember all of those late nights we spent together, just holding each other in silence, staring into the depths of the Common Room fire, never wanting to leave but not wanting to tell each other how we really felt. At that point, I knew that you were more mature than ever before, and you knew things that you or anyone else could possibly know. I think you could see into the future, the way you acted around me and our friends. Then the Death Eaters came and kidnapped all of the Muggleborn in the school, me included, to that disgusting, nightmarish island in the middle of nowhere. Do you know what they did to us there? Because we were Muggle borns? Do you? They raped the girls, forced the boys into manual labor, and beat us all the same. We were there for four days before anyone came for us." A glazed look came over her tear stained face, and it looked like she was having a serious internal battle on the matter of telling him all that happened there. "But then I saw you come in, with everyone else. I saw you dueling with Bellatrix. Ginny came over to the three of us left. Only three Muggleborns left alive at that place. They massacred the rest of us. Only Justin Flinch-Fletchey, that Ravenclaw girl Sarah Owens, and myself. We managed to survive the torture. Anyway, while I was watching you and Harry dueling for your lives with much stronger Death Eaters, Ginny came and began to unlock our bondage and try to get us to safety. After that, it was all in slow motion."

"I was the last one to be released by her, and I saw a Death Eater leap out of nowhere, tackling her to the ground. I began to scream. She stood up and fought with every fiber of her being. The Death Eater, to distract her, shot an Avada Kedavra at me. She jumped in front of it. For me. To keep me alive. Oh, God, a part of me died when that happened. She was my best girl friend I ever had, and she died to preserve my life. When those bastards fled, and you saw her limp body, there was a look on your face that shook me to the bone. We took her back to school, and then, after her funeral, we shared our first kiss. Oh, I was in bliss. You didn't blame me for the death. Her death." She exhaled slowly, and shifted her body. She had been there for awhile already, but she wouldn't allow herself to leave until all was said.

"Seventh year came around. You asked me out, and I thought I was in heaven. Only you could take me there. That year was a constant battle for our lives between us and those racist assholes. After one really horrid battle, you took me in your arms, and we made love. I was happy at last, with you, and after all that had happened in my life, I was truly happy with you. Words can't describe. Then, when you proposed to me, I knew I was complete. All of those years I spent loving you and caring for you came down to this, and I knew I would have the best future any woman in love could have. But that was not so. The alert went off that Voldemort was on school grounds, and Harry went to fulfill destiny.Volemort brought his little leeches to try and distract us from the amazing and graphic final duel between himself and Harry. Harry won. It was utterly heroic. He defeated Voldemort, but suffered himself. Shortly after he climbed out of that crater the two of them created while dueling, he collapsed into a coma. He woke up, but he will never be Harry again. He is someone else now. I don't even know him anymore." She began crying again. "Then, you. I saw it all happen before my eyes, like it unfolded before me in a book. Even though I was dueling McNair, I saw from the side what happened to you. Goyle Sr. grabbed you from behind while you were pulling another Death Eater away from Colin Creevey. He grabbed you, pulled out a regular old hunting knife, and slit your throat. I died with you, I suffered with you, but I did not go to heaven with you, like I wished I could of. After you left this hell, I felt nothing anymore. I didn't want to feel anything, I...."

"Hermione, come on. We have to go. Now," said a tired man behind her. He was pale, thin, and was a kind man. At this time he had a stern look on his face, but grief was underneath that. "Hermione, you have to let go. It has been six months. Please," he begged of her, and began to gently pull the young girl away from the grave. "Remus, please, let me say goodbye," she pleaded with him. He closed his eyes and nodded. "Goodbye, I love you more than you will ever know." She leaned down, and gently kissed the headstone. She slowly stood up, and with one last glance at the grave, took the man's hand and began to walk away into the distance. A golden ring glinted on the man's left hand, identical to the one on the young woman's hand. She leaned over and kissed the man on the cheek, and rested her head on his shoulder.

The tree over the grave where the young woman sat swayed as if stuck with wind, but there was no wind. The tendrils fell off of the tree slowly and inched their way toward the ground slowly, defying gravity. It looked as if the tree was crying. After a few minutes, the entire grave was covered with the tendrils off of the weeping willow tree. A grave covered in tears. Somewhere in the distance, and young man's voice sounded, but it had no source. "Goodbye, Hermione."

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Ronald Edwin Weasly

Born November 10, 1989

Died May 26, 2007

The world wasn't meant for someone as loyal as you

We love you forever and always

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