Title: Somebody Out There (1/15)
Author: silverphoenix
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: In the middle of a war, there are going to be casualties. This is inevitable. When two people lose their friends, they come to realise that death is not the end of happiness.


SOMEBODY OUT THERE
Part One: Somebody Out There

She had not even made it back to the Gryffindor common room before the tears had come. Leaning against a hard, cold wall, Hermione cried, hot tears falling down her cheeks. Slowly she sank to the floor, her knees giving out under the emotion.

In the dim light, she crouched there, sobbing, head in her hands. Taking a deep, ragged breath, she settled herself into a sitting position: it was no more comfortable, but she was no longer afraid that her legs would give way.

The war had started in earnest now; another victim had been added to the fatalities.

Angry with herself for letting herself get into such a state - she had to be strong, responsible, she had to be Harry's rock - she pushed her hair from her face with a trembling hand. Why had it happened? Why had it happened to him? It was not fair: nothing was fair. Not in love. Not in war.

Not in anything.

A split second and everything changed. Mourning became hatred. She hated the war. She hated the Death Eaters. She hated death. She hated Ron.

She hated herself for hating him.

This should not have happened. He should not have gone. But he had. Forever following in Harry's footsteps, the moment he stepped out of the Boy Who Lived's shadow everything had gone wrong. He had been foolish. He had been reckless. He had been so completely and utterly Ron.

"Why's it happening to be?" she asked aloud, voice fogged with more emotion than she would have wished. She, however, had not expected a reply.

"Maybe it's meant to be."

The Slytherin sat across the corridor was staring at her intently. Anger rising, she moved quickly, pinning him to the wall.

"How long have you been watching me?" she demanded. He did not even blink, eyes completely focused on her face. "Answer me."

"Years."

Confused by his answer she loosened her grip on his collar, and moved backwards. "What?"

He ignored her. "What happened to Weasley?" His tone was cautious, and he slowly reached into his pocket. He passed her a clean, white handkerchief. She took it gingerly, unsure what to make of this action.

"He's dead."

There was silence, the words ringing around the corridor. Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth. She scuttled backwards as realisation hit, her bare knees scraping on the stone.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," she whispered hoarsely. Saying that he was dead made it real. It made it more real than she wanted, and her tears came again. "This isn't right."

"It never is." Slowly, as if unsure of his own limbs, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. Hermione buried her face in the crook of his neck, sobbing quietly.

They stayed that way for a long time. Eventually, Hermione pulled back. "Why are you comforting me? There's nothing that you can do to make it right," she said quietly.

"I can't make it any worse," Blaise whispered.