Hermione was jogging. More like running, actually. For her life. She couldn't stop. Her lungs were aching. Her frizzy hair was coming undone from its bun. Her arms were tired from swinging. Her legs were numb. Her heart was tattooing its beat against her ribcage. Sweat was dampening her robes and her face. She couldn't stop. She kept running.
Ron. Ron. Ron. Ron. Ron. Oh Ron, how could you? How could you?
The tears were blurring her vision. She wasn't about to run into a building was she? No, she was on a field. Was it raining? She couldn't remember. There was nothing visible to her now.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the kitchen after the meal she and Molly had prepared. They sipped tea and sat in silence. Ron had been patched up well since the attack, but he was quieter than usual.
"You all right?" Hermione asked for the hundredth time.
Ron just nodded at her and touched her hand. He was cold. "I'm fine." But he was much too serious.
"What are you two blokes thinking about?" she asked. The silence was killing her.
"I can't understand why they'd continually go after Ron," Harry said, looking at his best mate with his brows furrowed.
"Obviously because they want to hurt you indirectly. Or one of the Death eaters really has it out for him." She found herself echoing words Draco had spoken to her just four months or so ago. Had it really been that long?
"It's probably one of the Slytherins from school," Harry said bitterly. "Schoolmates or not, they don't care. This is war."
"Harry, don't be like that," Hermione said, chastising him immediately. "Don't think about things like that."
"I want to know who keeps trying to hurt my best mate!" Harry yelled, standing up. He was angry, and he suddenly sat back down, clutching his forehead.
"Harry," Hermione said soothingly. "Harry. Calm down."
"Yeah, mate," Ron joined in, and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You all right?"
Harry nodded looking up at the two. "Yeah. I'm…I'm fine. Just stressed out, you know? Anxious. I don't want my friends to get hurt. You guys are…really the only family I still have."
Ron's face became even more somber, and Hermione tried not to let her eyes tear up. Her own parents were in Australia still, and just talking about family made her miss them dearly. She'd told Draco about them once. He was very good listener. Sometimes she needed that after Harry's emotional rants.
"Don't think about it, Harry." Ron suddenly closed his eyes and rubbed his face. "Merlin, I'm tired."
"You want me to take you back up?" Hermione asked.
"No. I'm tired of this whole bloody war. Of a stupid wizard who can't just die!"
Harry's face was in his hands and Ron had his fists clenched. His clear blue eyes glared darkly at the ceiling, and Hermione touched his shoulder. "Ron, come on. Maybe we should get some air."
"No!" he yelled, pulling away from her. "I'm sick and tired of everyone continuously doing this to me! Stop treating me like a child! Just because I got attacked twice doesn't mean that I need bloody bodyguards everywhere. Just leave it! Leave me alone! I can take care of myself!"
"Ron, you're getting attacked! You need people to go with you and protect you when you need it."
"You think I can't protect myself?"
"No, I think you'll need help if you're attacked. Honestly, you're acting like a child right now."
Ron's face was beat red, and he stood up roughly from his chair. "I'm not a child! You need to get over it and stop treating me like one! Merlin, you're like my mum!"
Ron pushed his chair over and stalked out in a snit. Hermione watched him go, hurt and angry, but what he'd said was true. He had been babied quite a lot because of the attacks, but it was because everyone was worried. What a stupid, insensitive prat!
"Sounds a bit like me, doesn't it?" Harry said with a dark look in his eye.
"Not you too, Harry," she said wearily. If her two best friends were going to act like this, she wasn't sure what she was going to do. Where was Draco when she needed a good rant?
They listened as Molly shouted in the foyer, and Ron yelled back at her. There was a sound of a door opening and slamming shut, and Hermione stood up. "I don't want him to get hurt again, no matter how stupid he acts," she told Harry, and Harry nodded, staring aimlessly as Hermione rushed out after her love.
Molly was in front of the door, seething.
"Where'd he go?" Hermione asked, and Molly shook her head, angry.
"Wouldn't tell me. He's acting right like a child, he is. I should give him a spanking when he comes back," Molly grumbled. "If he gets hurt it'll be his own fault!"
Hermione couldn't hear any more. Ron was taking steps farther away the longer she talked. She burst out the front door and looked around. He'd have probably Disapparated by now. But to where?
Hogsmeade. He loved Hogsmeade and the sweets shop and the Three Broomsticks. She Disapparated. She searched for him in every nook and cranny she could think of, but he wasn't there. Where could he be? Maybe he was back home already. Maybe she was just being silly. Hermione shook her head and Disapparated back to the Burrow. An hour had gone by.
He wasn't there. She was already worried. "Molly, you heard from Ron yet?" she called out, and Molly answered in the negative.
Hermione felt tense. Hours went by and he still wasn't back. By then, everyone in the Burrow was feeling nervous. Where was he?
Hermione stopped running and bent down, hiding her face in her hands. Oh, God. Ron. Ron. Ron. The tears ran, and Hermione's sobs were the only thing to be heard in the empty fields that surrounded the Burrow. Oh, Merlin. Oh, Ron.
They'd found him four days later on Hermione's birthday. He was in a ditch face-down, his arms at his sides and his legs at strange angles. Seamus and Dean had found him and refused to show his body to Mrs. Weasley. She would have gone mad with anger and despair. They'd told Harry and Hermione later that his glassy blue eyes were still open, staring in horror at nothing.
Oh, God. Hermione shivered. They had buried him in the gardens of the Burrow with a little funeral preceding it. Molly had to be ushered inside before the burial. She was crying too hard. First Fred, now Ron?
Hermione had so many regrets now. Their last conversation had ended on a bad note. Had it only been a week since she'd kissed him last? She hadn't even been able to kiss him goodbye. The memories of George teasing them about marriage seemed so long ago now. Ron.
How would she move on? It was near evening. The September air was slowly freezing her, but she couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything. She got up. She had to check on Harry. Harry had been locked up in his room all day, but no one had heard a sound from his room.
Oh, God, Ron. Why Ron?
Hermione ran back to the Burrow. She didn't realise how far she had gone till she had to go back. By the time she had arrived at the door, she was breathless, her cheeks and nose a bright red. It matched her bloodshot eyes. She slipped off her coat and jogged up the stairs to Harry's room. She knocked and entered cautiously. Harry was lying in his bed, his glasses on the night table. "Harry?" she asked, and he looked up, his eyes puffy.
"Hermione," he said hoarsely, and sat up. His green eyes matched hers.
She didn't know what else to say. Just seeing him brought memories back of their adventures back in school as a trio. She wanted to bawl.
Harry suddenly stood up and embraced her, his shoulders shaking a little. It sent Hermione over the edge and she gave into her sobs.
"Hermione, I honestly don't know what I would do without you," he told her, his voice full of emotion. "If you were next, I think I'd break."
Hermione rested her head against her best friend's shoulder, unable to speak for a moment. Once she got her bearings, she spoke, her voice sounding weepy. "Then who would be the savior for this world?"
"It might have to be Neville, or maybe Dean."
Hermione's sobs grew louder. "I don't ever want to think about that Harry," she cried. "If I lost you I would die."
The two friends shared tears and memories that night. Ron seemed to be in the room with them, but every time Hermione would look for him, expecting to see his clear blue eyes, she would be disappointed, and the tears would fall again. When Hermione woke up in the morning, she was in the bed and Harry had slept on the floor. She woke him and embraced him. She couldn't stop thinking about Ron.
"Thanks for last night," she said. "I feel a little bit better now. And don't worry, Harry. I'll stay strong. I've never been one to go down without a fight, and neither have you." She smiled at him, and he returned it, albeit shakily. "Besides, who knows what would happen if either Neville or Seamus took charge of this whole thing?" She shivered.
Harry tried to smile. "Let's go down to breakfast."
Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Oh, Ron. She wanted to see him sitting in front of her and stuffing his face more than anything. "Sounds good."
A week passed, and Hermione was meeting Draco again. She felt nervous and scared. It was irrational, but he was still a Death eater. A Death eater, maybe more than one, had gotten Ron. Oh Ron. Ron!
She arrived at the Shrieking Shack and walked in, feeling a bit sick. Draco's face was solemn. "I heard what happened," he told her, and Hermione just nodded slowly. She was going to throw up at any time. "Are you…all right?"
"Of course I'm not all right!" she suddenly shouted at him. "Do you think I'd be bloody 'all right'? My boyfriend's gone!" She finally called him her boyfriend, and it was too late. "He died!" There. She'd finally said it. "He's dead." The realisation hit her so hard that she fell down onto her bottom. "He's dead," she whispered.
Draco went to her when she covered her face and began sobbing. "He's dead!" she whispered again. Draco tentatively touched her brown hair with his hand, combing his fingers through her mane.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said soothingly, and he held her as she wept.
"How can you be sorry?" she cried. "You didn't even like him!" He didn't answer, and she wept into his robes.
When she was done, Hermione kissed him like she would have kissed Ron if it had been their last kiss. If she had known she was going to say goodbye to him forever.
Draco finally pulled away and stared at her tear-stricken face, her desperate expression. Hermione looked at him, at his confused, handsome face, his grey eyes that were widening the longer they stared at each other.
Draco suddenly ripped himself away from her and walked a few paces away, his back to her. He ran a hand through his white-blonde hair and clutched the back of his neck.
Hermione watched him, confused. They were like that for almost three minutes, until Draco turned back around. "Hermione, let's meet here in four days, okay?" he told her. "Saturday." He was trembling a little, and Hermione nodded slowly. He tried a smile and Disapparated on the spot.
Oh, Merlin. What had she done? Kissed him like there was no tomorrow. She was an idiot. Oh, Merlin. Hermione stood up, her legs feeling like jelly, and she Disapparated herself.
As soon as she entered the door, everyone turned to stare at her with a mournful, pitiful look on their face. What was going on? Had something happened to Harry? Hermione rushed into the kitchen where Harry and Arthur sat, talking in low voices.
The two noticed her, and Arthur gestured for her to sit next to Harry, and she did. What was going on?
"Hermione, I think you'll want to see this," Arthur said, and handed Hermione a newspaper. Hermione frowned and looked down. It was the Muggle paper, one from…Australia?
"What's happened?" she asked, her brown eyes wide.
Arthur's face was concerned and contemplative and he pointed to a small column in the paper. In bold letters it read, "Missing: Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Last seen at an opera house in Surrey, Australia. Please call this number if you spot the couple."
Hermione dropped the paper. "Oh my God." Arthur watched as Hermione slowly unraveled. "Oh my God." Her heart was wrenching, beating a thousand miles a second. How could this be happening? First Ron, now her parents? Hermione was getting dizzy. She closed her eyes, but that made it worse. Wendell and Monica Wilkins, missing. She had hidden them, charmed their memories, just so this kind of thing wouldn't happen to them. How…how had this happened? She fell into Harry and passed out.
Draco had Apparated to his room, where he fell onto his knees and stared at the floor, his light grey eyes wide. "It can't be, it can't be," he muttered continuously to himself as he stared a hole into his carpet.
There was a knock on his door, and he jumped.
"Draco!" came his father's sharp voice.
Draco immediately stood up and wiped his face, making sure his facial expression had changed from horror to nothing.
"Yes Father, come in," he said, and proceeded to go to his desk to pretend he was doing something else.
"Did you meet with her?" Lucius implored, entering his son's neat room.
"Yes, Father." Draco stacked up his pile of parchments again and again.
"Stand up straight and look at me," Lucius snapped, and Draco did as he was told. "Was she upset?"
Draco put his shaky hand on his desk. "More upset than I've ever seen her before."
Lucius smirked. "Was she crying?"
Draco couldn't trust his voice. He nodded his head.
"Good. The Dark Lord's plan is working. Good work, son."
The young Malfoy nodded his thanks and watched his father leave his room, closing the door soundly behind him. Everyone was becoming so anxious and sketchy about everything. It was terrifying.
He covered his face with his hands again. "What am I going to do?" he muttered to himself, his eyes filling with tears. "I'M SO STUPID!" he yelled, and kicked over his chair in a fit of rage. He dropped to his bum and sat there for a little while, his hands still covering his face.
After ten minutes, he uncovered his face and wiped his eyes. He felt like a stupid child. He stood and looked at himself in his full-length mirror calmly. "I'm going to continue doing it," he told himself. "Nothing will stop me from getting the Dark Lord's approval. Not even her." His hands were shaking. "Shut up! You are going to do it! No matter what! You failed him once, and the day you fail him again the Malfoy line will end right then with you!" His fingers clenched into fists and he almost punched the mirror. He took a deep, shaky breath, then sneered at himself. "You're disgusting."
A.N.: wow! so much happening in one chapter! and it's so long! i'm sorry for you Ron lovers. if you want to complain about it, review and i'll tell you why i keep killing Ron in all of my stories, haha. but otherwise, just review and tell me what you think! good chapter? too much in one chapter? too chaotic? too much drama? dont forget to REVIEW! i love reviews!