In Which the Story Ends.
The exams were over. They had just one week left at Hogwarts, then it would be back on the train, and home for the summer. Hermione lay crying on her bed once more. She had done nothing else except take her exams. For the first time in her life, she hadn't even wanted to take them. She lay crying in her bed each morning until Professor McGonagall inevitably came to get her, insisting that she'd thank her later.
Harry would never talk to either her or Ron again. He found out what happened that night. Face stained with tears, he demanded to know exactly why they were so late the second they'd returned to Hogwarts, sent back by a portkey from Dumbledore. Back from that awful gravesite that would haunt her dreams forever.
"Why," he'd demanded "Did it take TWO HOURS after I sent Hedwig, for Dumbledore to show up?"
Ron and Hermione were both in complete shock. Ginny…
"TWO MINUTES!" Harry shouted. "He got there just in time to save me, but two minutes earlier and Dumbledore could have saved Ginny, too!"
At this, the reality fully hit Hermione. She had started to cry uncontrollably, and since then she felt she hadn't stopped. She even spent the exams quietly sobbing as she tried to concentrate on the questions. She didn't care, none of it mattered anymore. Ginny was dead, and it was her fault. Why hadn't she just read the note first? This question that would always haunt her, no matter if she was asleep, or awake.
Ron was a complete wreck. He'd let his only sister down, and now she was… He couldn't even bring himself to think it. He was numb. Just numb. He had cried, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it, but he couldn't anymore, didn't have the strength.
It was his fault, and Harry knew it. On that awful night, he kept demanding to know just why it had taken so long. He saw the guilty looks on Ron and Hermione's faces, and he knew. Ron knew he knew, but he wasn't satisfied. Harry kept on about it until Ron told him exactly why they were late. Exactly why his baby sister… 'Guess he just wanted to hear it for himself,' Ron thought. 'Suppose I would, too.'
He rolled onto his stomach, in his bed. It was midday, but he didn't want to get up. At least the exams were over and McGonagall could stop hassling him to take them every morning. That thought did nothing to cheer him up.
Ron couldn't even face Hermione. He wanted to comfort her, but at the same time, couldn't stand to look at her. Couldn't stand the guilt that ate away at his soul. He knew she felt the same way. The few times they had come face to face in the Gryffindor common room, or in the Great Hall, they'd each turned and walked away, both racked with that horrible guilt.
It was because of their love, and inability to control their urges, that Ginny had… no point in ignoring it. Ginny had been tortured and killed by Voldemort, while Wormtail watched. While Harry had been forced to watch. "Oh, Gin.." he said softly as the tears started flowing silently down his freckled cheeks once more.
The Weasley's wanted to wait until after the exams to hold the funeral, so that everyone could attend to say their last goodbyes to their only daughter. That time had come. The school year had ended, and the previous day the trio had caught the train back to London. Instead of being picked up by various people, they had all gone straight from the platforms and back to the Burrow, in a car borrowed from the Ministry of Magic.
It was a long journey, and no one talked to each other the whole time.
Ron could hear Hermione sobbing violently as he past Ginny's old bedroom door on his way downstairs, where the ceremony would be held. He paused outside the door, but, shaking his head, continued down the stairs.
All the members of the Order were already down stairs, as well as Harry, and some of Ginny's school friends. Ron's Mum was in the kitchen, crying, while Tonks, her hair long and black, was comforting her. All the other Weasley children were there, being comforted by various people. Harry sat on one end of a long couch, while Ron's Dad sat on the other, neither talking, or looking like they wanted to be talked to.
When Hermione had descended the stairs, red eyed, and dressed in black like everyone else. the ceremony began. It was short, but full of emotion, and by the end of the Eulogy, delivered by Dumbledore, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.
One by one, they stood and walked over to the open casket, to bid farewell to the girl they had each loved dearly. Harry was the last to stand, and when he took hold of Ginny's hand for the final time, he looked as if he wanted to get in and be buried with her.
Ron walked up to him. Ginny looked so peaceful, like she was only sleeping. He tore his eyes away from her angelic face, to see Harry walking away. Guilt ripped through him once more.
That night Hermione was decided. This couldn't go on. She wanted, no, needed to talk to Ron. She couldn't sleep, and at three thirty, decided enough was enough.
She got out of bed, put on her blue dressing gown, and tiptoed down the stairs and into the lounge room where Ron was lying on the couch. Harry was in his room. At first she thought he was asleep, but as she crept closer, she realised that his eyes were open. Hermione wanted to turn, and go back upstairs, but he'd already seen her.
"Hermione? What are you doing up?" Ron asked as he sat up, his eyes darting everywhere but her.
With the familiar guilt settling in her stomach, she took the last few steps to the couch, and sat gingerly next to him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both knowing what needed to be done, but neither knowing where to start, or what to say.
Eventually Hermione spoke. "I came down to talk to you, Ron. I just… I'm sorry!" Her eyes welled up with tears, and her shoulders shook as she tried to take a few calming breaths.
Ron gave her a quick hug, then took hold of her hand, his eyes cast downwards. "We both know that we can't do this anymore." Hermione nodded. "It's not the same anymore. Every time we see each other, we'll just be reminded of…" his voice broke slightly. He left the sentence hanging, both thinking of their own grief, and each others. But especially Harry's, their once best friend.
"I understand completely," Hermione agreed between sobs, slightly relieved that Ron felt the same as her. "I'm so sorry, I wish it could be different."
"Just know that, even though we can't be together, I will always love you," Ron looked into her eyes for the first time in what seemed like an age. "I want you to be happy. We can never be happy together now. Please just live your life."
Hermione smiled briefly, though she felt more like crying again. "I know. I love you, and I only want you to be happy." With that, she silently stood, and left Ron, his eyes welling up, staring after her.
The next day, Hermione hugged each of the Weasley's goodbye, including Ron. Perhaps she held on a little longer than completely necessary, but as it was likely to be their last, neither seemed to mind. Just as she went to pull away, Ron whispered in her ear "I'm sorry. I love you, I always have and I always will. Live your life, please." Hermione nodded, reluctant to trust her voice. She went over to Mr Weasley, who was waiting to walk her to the road where her parents were meeting her. Harry stayed up in Ron's room, packing, as Hermione left the burrow for the last time.