disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, now watch my heart shatter to pieces.
a/n: short and simple. I set the rating a little higher, just in case.
"We won," Hermione whispered softly in his hear as she stopped at his side and grabbed his hand. She choked back a sob, torn between extreme grief and extreme relief and happiness. "It's over Ron, we won."
Ron Weasley tore his gaze from what he had been staring at to look at her. This was the girl he loved. There was blood running down her a cheek, a cut on her collarbone that would probably scar. Her hair was matted with dirt and leaves. Her hands were rough and cracked and her eyes were a mix of every emotion that existed in the world. She was beautiful, and he loved her.
He turned in the other direction and there was his little sister. Ginny Weasley, sixteen years old and suffering ten times more than any girl at her age should. They locked eyes and she shook her head refusing to believe everything she just read in his eyes. He'll make her understand. He's her older brother. That's what he's around for, to be there for her. She was too young for this.
Standing next to her was Bill, the oldest Weasley brother. He gently held Ginny rocking her back and forth like a baby, kissing the top of her forehead. Both of them were bruised and bleeding, but none of that mattered. Not now. Bill's long hair was a mess; out of its ponytail and covering his face. Ginny's clothes were torn and she shook as if she was having a seizure.
"No," he muttered softly, blinking back the tears that were ready to fall from his eyes. Shaking his head he took a couple steps back, pulling Hermione with him.
All Ron could do was stare. This wasn't the way it was supposed to turn out. They were supposed to be rejoicing, and drinking to the end of the war. He felt his shoes crush something, and heard the breaking of glass. Taking another step back he released Hermione's hand and picked up the demented frame.
"No amount of tape can fix these now" he joked. Hermione stared at him in disbelief. He knew she was probably wondering how he could make jokes at a time like this. It was all he could do though. When things got bad he was either the one storming off, or staying behind and making jokes.
He wasn't oblivious to reality. How could he be when it was lying there, right in front of his face? It started off as a simple cough, then a tear, and the next thing he knew Ronald Weasley was sobbing in the arms of Hermione Granger.
Hermione ran her hands gently through his hair, and spoke words of comfort to him, trying to soothe him like a little baby.
"It's okay," she cried, kissing the top of his head and holding him tight. "It's over, we won."
Ron's body shuddered with racking sobs and he choked on his words.
Pulling himself together, his raw red eyes took one last look at the scene before him.
"Voldemort lost," he said numbly, placing the glasses frame in his pocket. "But that doesn't mean we won."
Harry Potter lay lifeless on the ground before him.
And a thousand victories still wouldn't bring him back.