Disclaimer: Don't own HP, Hermione, Ron, or any other character named here. Inspired by the song "Kokoro (Spirit)" from Xenosaga.
.x. Always .x.
They had met on September 1st, 1991. She had walked into his compartment, her bushy hair and all, asking him if he had seen Neville Longbottom's toad. She remembered the way he had looked at her as though she was a nutter. She remembered that she had pointed out that he had dirt on his nose, and the way he rubbed it furiously to try and get the dirt off. She had been such a know-it-all then… Even then, though, his brilliant red hair had dazzled her.
On Halloween, he had saved her from a cave troll. Since then, they had been best friends. The lesser-known two thirds of the "Golden Trio". It had been she who screamed out in horror as he fell in the monstrous chess game while Harry looked on, stony faced. It had been her who took him back up, back to the Hospital Wing so that Madam Pomfrey could cure him.
She remembered the way that she had chided him and Harry when they crash-landed the flying Ford Anglia into the Whomping Willow a year after their first meeting. It had been him who brought her her homework as she lay in the Hospital Wing with thick black fur and a tail. She remembered the feeling of holding her in his arms when she was unpetrified…but, being only twelve years old at the time, could not understand the warmth that flooded her body when she did so. She could still recall the scent of him, of wood and berries and soap. He smelled so good…
In their third year, he had held her hand tightly as they heard the impact of MacNair's axe from afar during Buckbeak's appeal. It had been he who dried her tears and held her at Dumbledore's funeral. It had been he who put her through hell when he dated the giggly, dim-witted dunderhead Lavender Brown. It had been he, the youngest Weasley boy, who held her heart in his strong hands.
But they never quite got it together. They never ended up as Hermione-And-Ron, as one single entity. They were never one thing in people's minds. The closest they ever came to that was when they were called Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She wished she could have pretended that was enough, but it wasn't…she wished that she could tell him how she felt, but she knew that it would just end in a fight, that there would be nothing to hold them together. Not having him at all was worse than not having him as a boyfriend, and so she kept quiet.
Things were darker than ever before for them after the end of their sixth year. Through what would have been their seventh year at Hogwarts, they had struggled together to help Harry destroy the Horcruxes instead. They risked their lives side-by-side, but they were never together.
It was a rainy day, September 1st, 1998. Seven years of knowing each other. Seven years of narrowly cheating death at Voldemort's hands, Harry more than either of them. "A toast…to the Golden Trio," Hermione said quietly, lifting her glass of champagne; the others followed suit. It was not a joyous occasion, however. The mood was somber as always. They drank in quietly. Harry got up from the table they were gathered at in Number 12, and Hermione looked up at Ron. Her heart was racing; she could hear the loud thump-thump-thump it made and thought it was a wonder he didn't hear it. He was staring off into space, her redheaded angel. "Ron?" she asked quietly. He looked up at her. "I…" She paused. She couldn't say it.
"What is it, Mione?" he asked. The look in his eyes made it seem as though he almost understood what was running through her mind. Encouraged by this, she leaned forward, their noses touching. She opened her eyes; her chocolate-hued ones met with his blue. She closed them again; they were only a fraction of an inch away now.
"RON, HERMIONE!" Harry hollered from another room. They broke apart, their pulses quickening again. They both knew what this meant—the final battle was here.
"Where is it, Harry?" she called up, the take-charge side of her personality emerging.
She and Ron entered the room where Harry was, a Patronus in the shape of a cat beside him. He muttered something quietly.
"Where is it, mate?" Ron asked urgently.
"The Burrow." The expression on Ron's face slackened; the color drained from his face.
"Let's go."
When they arrived, most of the Order had already reached the dilapidated house. Bodies of Death Eaters and Order members alike were strewn on the lawn. Hermione felt her stomach churn as she looked down at the spread-eagled body of Remus Lupin. "Oh God…" she breathed. Ron put a protective arm around her for a moment, but then pushed her forward.
"Come on," he said quietly. She agreed, and they hastened in behind Harry.
As they fought, jets of light flew past them at a speed she had never realized they could. She felt her heart stop each time she saw a flash of green, knowing that someone from their side could be killed. As she fought, she saw Molly, Ginny, Tonks, and others fighting. Tonks and Bellatrix were once again entangled; this time Tonks seemed set on revenge for Sirius…and Remus. Hermione wondered if Bellatrix had fired the spell that had killed him. Suddenly, she felt an anger boil inside of her that she had never felt before. Bellatrix's back was turned to her. It was now or never…
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" She hollered. Bellatrix paid no mind to it; the spell had not come from Tonks, and there were too many voices to distinguish whom was aiming for whom. It was a fatal mistake. The heavy-lidded Black fell, leaving Tonks to look at Hermione, astonished. Hermione's chest was still heaving as she tried to grapple with what she had just done. She had killed someone….
From across the room, Rodolphus Lestrange saw his wife fall. He saw the way the silly young witch who had killed her paused, confused. The way she stumbled and let her guard down. He aimed his wand at her back, firing another killing curse.
"HERMIONE!" Ron screamed, but Hermione couldn't hear him over the fray. Without hesitation, he bolted towards her. "Hermione! Hermione, look out!" He came in contact with her side and bowled her over; she was out of harm's way.
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise. She had seen the light out of the corner of her eye too late. She looked over at him; something was wrong…. His eyes were open and glassy; his arm lay at a strange angle…. "Ron?" she breathed, horrorstruck. No, not him, he couldn't be… She let out a scream of agony. The tears overcame her, she leaned over his body, shaking him. "Wake up, Ron, wake up! Wake up…" She looked down at him. Already he was growing cold… "I love you," she whispered finally, before laying her head on his chest and sobbing.
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
A week later, she had barely said a word to anyone. She knew that she should have been happy that their side had won, but nothing could make up for the emptiness she felt at her losses… Remus. Mr. Weasley. Fred and George. Ron…. She felt the tears well up again.
"Hermione?"
She looked around and saw Harry standing cautiously in the doorway.
"Hi," she said quietly.
"How are you?" She could only shake her head. "I, er…well, I'm supposed to give you this." She looked up. He handed her a folded piece of parchment, on which her name was scrawled in untidy handwriting. His handwriting.
"Thank you," she whispered, and Harry left. With trembling fingers, she opened it, carefully smoothing out the creases…
My dearest Hermione,
I know that if you are reading this, I am dead. And I know that nothing ever happened between us, because I am so, so, so stupid. I loved you, Hermione. I love you. I always have. I always will. Even in death. I wish that I had had the courage to tell you that, to show you that. And I hope the little affection I did show you, you noticed. And I hope most of all that you loved me too.
I will miss you, Mione, even in death, because any second I've ever spent without you has been agony. I know you will miss me too. That you do. But don't miss me too much—live your life the way you would have with me by your side. After all, I will always be with you. I will be there in the wind, in the plants, in laughter and in tears, in anger and in love. Because I will always be in your heart the way that you were always in mine.
—Ron