Hermione's POV

I cry.

The water hit my skin. The warm droplets formed a steam as I sat there, in the shower, without moving a single muscle. I sat there, naked and exposed with my knees up against my chest and my head resting against the cold tile. The hot water poured down on me, washing away the dirt and the blood and the pain. I was crying, of course, but it was okay. In the shower I could cry and pathetically convince myself I'm not crying that it's just water. But then I realized I didn't care. I didn't care if I cried and looked weak. I just didn't care anymore so I sat there and I sobbed. I needed to get it out of my system.

Dobby's dead.

He had died about an hour before my shower, on the beach just outside of the cottage. The blade that had taken his life had been a small blade, but Dobby was small himself. It only took that one, simple wound to do the job and it had done it well. Dobby died within a matter of seconds. He was gone. I dropped my head, letting the water flatten my dirty hair while I cried.

Death. So much death. People I loved had died. People I loved were going to die. It had started years ago with Cedric. He hadn't been a close friend to lose but I had still mourned him. His death was the first of many to follow. It had begun with him and it had yet to stop. Then it was Sirius who although he wasn't my family, loved me as though I were. Then Dumbledore. When I thought of the war, I had always pictured him to be at the front, saving lives and protecting us. The way he always had and vowed to always do.

Now where was he? Six feet under.

He had died before the war had even begun.

And then Dobby. Oh Dobby! My skin begun burning from the mellow droplets of hot water that splashed across my bare skin but I didn't care. If anything, I liked the feeling. The hot water released my tension. Calmed me down. As I washed the shampoo suds off me, I couldn't help but think about my Ron. My hero. My knight in shining armour. I was his and he was mine and yet I still felt as if I was going to lose him. I still feared his name would be next on the list of those to go. And that thought? It destroyed me.

I couldn't lose him. I couldn't. If I lost Ron - or Harry, actually - then my world would be over. It would all be for nothing. If we lost Harry then we would have lost the war and it would have all been for nothing. If I lost won and we won the war, then I would have lost love and how can one possibly exist every day knowing their soul mate was gone? I know hundreds did it, thousands even. All over the world people had loved and lost, but the idea of having to deal with that day after day, after what I had already been through? It seemed impossible.

I'd have to fight. I'd have to be strong and fight and save the ones I loved. I could not allow anyone else I loved to die. I couldn't. I didn't know if I had been giving myself a sense of false hope but either way it gave me some form of hope and I needed that to cling to, even if it wasn't real. I couldn't sit and wallow in sorrow. I had to move forward, embrace the fact that we were at war and use what courage I had left to ensure we win it.

I rose to my feet, turned off the shower and stepped onto the mat. I dried myself before I wrapped the pearly white towel around my naked body, covering my chest, stomach and most of my legs before tucking the end of it in. I wiped the steam from the mirror and watched my reflection. I looked ill. My skin was waxy pale; the shower didn't seem to revive me at all. My hair, soaking wet and darker than usual, stuck to the sides of my face. I combed it back and tucked it down one side of my shoulder, trying to make myself look a little more presentable. A little less broken.

Then I saw my arm. The Bleeding had stopped, thanks to Fleur and her herbs and potions. She was no nurse but she knew enough to stop the bleeding but unfortunately, she said it may scar. A scar that would forever remind me of Bellatrix's cruel nature.

Mudblood.

I looked away before wrapping my inner arm in a bandage, just to keep the wound from infection. I didn't care. I had to ignore it. I had to move on. I had to be strong.

I opened the small bathroom door and stepped out into the hall, moved around the stairs quickly before heading into the spare bedroom Ron, Harry and I were to share. I hurried inside, closed the door, turned and then screamed. Ron was sat on the bed, reading a book. He gasped and smiled at my reaction. I stood there, my hand on my chest as I regained control of my breathing.

"Ron!" I cursed, "You startled me."

"I could tell. Sorry." He said.

I shook my head, "No, it's alright." I said. He stood up and turned away from me. I wondered why at first but then I realized it was because I was practically naked. I found myself grinning but it felt wrong to smile so soon. But so right to smile with Ron. I walked up behind him, resting my hand on his shoulder. "Ron."

"Hmm?" He asked, not turning away from the window.

"You don't have to look away, you know?" He cocked his head to the side, confused. "I think we're a little past that. I love you. I'm not embarrassed if you see me, I am wearing a towel." I chuckled and he nodded. He turned around and couldn't help himself; he had to look me up and down. Not that there was much to see other than towel. He blushed anyway. One of his hands found my waist while the other journeyed up to hold my cheek softly. I wrapped my arms around his neck as we leaned into kiss. Our bodies met together for a moment as we held one another, our lips reuniting at long last. It felt so nice, to kiss Ron. He was always so soft and gentle and warm.

He turned on the spot then and I found myself leaning against him so much he sat on the bed with me stood between his legs, holding his hair and kissing him until finally I knelt on the bed, laying on him and just enjoying the feeling of him holding me, his lips on mine. Having someone there. After a minute we pulled back, just holding one another close.

"I love you." He told me. I grinned at him.

"I love you too."I told him. That little exchange of those few words ignited something within me. That feeling of losing him, that nightmare that would be my life without him? It was slowly fading away. How could he possibly not be in my life? The idea, the notion was ridiculous. Ron had always been and always would be there for me.

FanWriter's Note: Hey guys! Let me know what you think of the way Hermione feels

~FanWriter Asher~