I really liked writing this. Even if the subject is very morbid, it was still fun to write.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP

Walking Away

She sat there, hands folded in her lap, her legs crossed, and mouth grim. She didn't wear a black veiled hat, like so many other females there. She didn't wear heels like the other females. She didn't cry like the other females, and conjure tissues from the tip of her wand. She conjured herself an umbrella for when it started to rain, but that was all.

One would speculate that this woman didn't have any feelings. Many would comment on it, and then immediately be silenced by someone saying; "She was one of his best mates, she must be in shock."

When she heard these things, she wanted to laugh. She wasn't in shock, she had just cried all her tears in the privacy of her own home. Why would she want to cry her eyes out in front of all these people? Also the fact that she had known that this was going to happen might have had some effect on her. He had locked himself in that house by himself for more then a few years. He didn't even respond to letters, or fireplace calls. He stopped existing.

As the many people who would speculate on her behavior disappeared, whether by apparating or driving, she stayed there. Then it was only a few people left. People she knew, or had known. "You guessed this would happen also?"

She looked over at the red headed man and nodded, "I tried talking to him a few times before, then he put up those charms that stopped people from coming in." She shook her head sighing. "I think in the end, it was inevitable."

"Inevitable." The man repeated, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with the tip of his wand. "Ginny has been taking it hard. If he lived through the poison I would kill the bloke myself." He looked over at the woman, blowing out smoke a smoke ring. "How have you been Hermione?"

Hermione watched as the smoke ring changed colors. Green, to blue, to yellow, then back to green. "Since when do you smoke Ron?"

"Since you called off the engagement." He blew out another colored smoke ring. "Hear you've been making quite a name for yourself as the new head of Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Youngest female to be the head of any department. Done quite a lot in making SPEW a bit bigger haven't you?"

"SPEW is not my main project at the moment. Most of the house elves have been relocated. Most of those elves owners worked for the Dark Lord, so they were just killed. We didn't even have to deal with them. I'm working on the better working conditions for werewolves."

"Well I guess you would have a lot of experience in that department."

Hermione blushed, and turned her focus back to the head stone. "Well I hear that your one of the first Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers to actually stay for more then a year. Also the first teacher to almost get fired for marrying a student."

"In my defense, we didn't start dating until after she graduated. We weren't married until a year after she graduated." Ron said, also turning a shade of crimson.

"Well I must be going." Hermione said. "There is so much going at the office. I'm going to be so behind when I get back." Ron laughed at what she said. "What you find my job amusing?" Hermione asked acidly.

"No, no. I find it funny that still after all these years you bury yourself in work when something bad happens." Ron added, "I thank God that it's the summer, I wouldn't be able to focus if it wasn't."

"I see you still avoid work when something bad happens."

"You know what they say, when the going gets tough and all that rubbish."

"Trust me I know what that means."

"What'd you mean by that?"

"What do think I mean Ron?"

"You called off the engagement, not me."

"You're the one who told me to leave!"

"Not forever!"

"What did you expect? That I would stay with you after that!" They both stopped, realizing they were yelling. They stood there glaring at each other. She turned back toward the grave and conjured up a bouquet. Dropping it on the grave, she turned back towards Ron. "Want to go drink our selves to death, and finally when were drunk enough start rambling drunkenly about Harry's memory?"

Ron looked at her oddly. "Since when did you start drinking?"

"Since I called off the engagement." She started walking away from the grave. "Are you coming?"

"Of course." He caught up to her, and asked, "But what memory should we start with?"

"From the very beginning."

"When we started sneaking around at night our first year at Hogwarts." He took another drag from his cigarette. "Harry was our leader."

"I think he liked being the leader. He just didn't like being called a hero."

"Well we know that, he said it in his letter."

"I couldn't read the letter. I started crying at the sight of it. What did it say?"

"Basically it said that he didn't like people calling him a hero. So many people had died because of him. That he wished that when people came to his funeral that it would be all of his friends, not just some of them. He was very dramatic."

After a few minutes of silence she finally said, "Well let's go find a pub and drink."

So the two did find a pub. They sat at the counter and kept on drinking, and asking for refills until the bar tender cut them off. Even when he did though, they sat there and continued talking about old memories of better days. How even now, after all the sacrifices that the world still wasn't right. They talked about how Harry had died. How he had killed himself. They spoke of regrets over the fact that neither of them were their to stop him. Then finally the bar tender kicked them out they said good bye. This time though they both knew it was for good. Because even in their drunken state they knew they had nothing connecting them any longer. No wedding planning, no funerals, not anything. No best friend to keep them together.

They walked away for good.