The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.


This is my latest. It starts out sad but I promise it doesn't stay that way.

Thanks for taking the time to read.


"No, no…no please no…Ron I can't make it, I don't want to…please" Hermione Weasley was clutching the lifeless body of her husband as her wails filled the small hospital room crammed with people.

Hermione's world had suddenly ended and she was lost. Ron was the center of her universe, the only love of her life and now her world was imploding. It had always been Ron from the first train ride to school. Hermione had made her life with him.

There was the black time as she called it in her head, when Ron had been gone and she did not want to go back to that time. But at least then she had hope for him to return and he had. Now he was gone and he was never coming back. Hermione Weasley was shattered.

She couldn't breath she did not want to breath she would go with him- her Ron. The room was swirling, she just wanted everything to go dark. As she fell a strong pair of arms caught her.

She wanted to yell at the idiot who kept putting that horrible smelly thing under her nose to go away. Why doesn't somebody make that brainless idiot stop it really smells awful. Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she remembered. She was in Ron's room at St. Mungo's, where she had spent everyday for the past three weeks. She focused on the vase of flowers she had brought yesterday to brighten up Ron's room. She thought for a minute it was something about Ron…something important…she shifted her gaze and then she remembered. Ron's bed was empty, Ron was gone.

The world was going dark again and she felt the strong arms.

"I am going to take you to the Burrow." A voice said from behind her.

"No, I want to go home, our flat." Hermione whispered tearfully.

It was different, Hermione's brain was confused. The night sky was showing through the window but something was wrong. Hermione looked at the walls, they looked the same. The sheets were the right color, periwinkle blue. Everything looked normal, this was the bedroom but what was it? Hermione pulled the pillow close to her nose. She smiled, it smelled like him and then she knew.

The tears began and Hermione knew at that moment she would cry for the rest of her life.

Hermione shifted as the door opened, the light hurt her eyes. She liked the dark. Somebody should close the door. Please somebody close the bloody door.

Hermione felt the arms lift her up before her mind could register that a person was next to her.

"Drink this is will help." Hermione did as she was told, the voice knew what was best and it was familiar.

Hermione was like a limp rag doll. She simply was. The face next to her came into focus; it had the same periwinkle blue as the sheets, the same blue as Ron's. The pain robbed her breath. It was as if she was being stabbed.

"I can't…what am I going to do?" The potion was making her babble. "I don't know how to live without him." Hermione's face twisted in pain. "Please," she whimpered.

The strong arms with the blue eyes wrapped around Hermione and gently rocked her as she sobbed. This pain was not new to him. He had been exactly where she was, in hell. His hell had happened a few years before but the pain was still the same, only he had learned to continue with the dull ache.

Bill Weasley had also lost his spouse. Fleur was killed in the same battle which Ron had been captured. Bill understood better than anyone and some mornings he still had to remind himself to breathe.

"Hermione just take one breath at a time, just keep breathing little one." Bill watched as the potion took effect. Her face relaxed and she fell into a deep sleep.

Bill put her head on the pillow and collected the glass, standing he covered her with the blanket and walked towards the kitchen. He left the door slightly ajar he wanted to be able to hear her if she woke up.

The glass shattered in the sink when it slipped out of Bill's hand as the reality of the day sank in. His baby brother was dead. It was so unfair, the boy had suffered so much and when Hermione had finally found him they all had such great hopes.

It was three years ago that Hermione's relentless search efforts finally paid off. During the final battle Ron had been disappeared. Everyone had searched for him and it wasn't until months later that a recently captured Death Eater confessed to being part of a torture squad that took turns torturing captives. The prisoner confirmed that three wizards had been abducted during the battle and of the three only Ron Weasley was still alive. The information was weeks old when it was finally given to Hermione. The majority of people believed that by that time Ron had to be dead. Only Hermione and the Weasleys refused to give up hope.

Hermione spent every waking moment searching for Ron. She felt he was still alive. When ever someone would try to talk her out of searching she calmly pointed out that she of all people would know if the search was useless. It was Hermione who knew the instant during the final battle when Harry had been killed by Voldemort. It was also Hermione who knew when Harry made the decision to return to face him again. She felt that Ron was alive and she was adamant that she would never give up until she felt otherwise.

It had been over a year when Hermione literally stumbled over Ron. He had been left for dead in Knockturn Alley. He was more dead than alive but it was Hermione who found him.

Bill cleaned up the broken glass and sat next to the window waiting the sunrise. It hadn't surprised him that Hermione had been the one to find Ron. Even then they were attached. Hermione knew what Ron wanted before he did and he finished her sentences when she got too distracted. They were the better part of each other. Bill saw the first rays of sunlight stretch across the sky.

Hermione had nursed his brother back to health. Ron recovered slowly from his ordeal and it had changed him. It was as if his soul was gone. Ron laughed and said the right things but when you looked at him you realized his eyes were empty. The only time they saw a glimmer of the old Ron was when he was looking at Hermione. She was the reason he continued to exist.

The sunlight covered Hermione's face and she could see the dust motes floating in the air. Her eyes ached and her face was swollen. She wanted sleep but it eluded her. She watched and remembered all the mornings that she had watched the sun rise while watching over Ron. Nights were always the worst time for him. Hermione supposed that sleep allowed the memories to overwhelm his brain. He only got through a night if she sat with him, soothing him when he had a nightmare.

She understood mentally that Ron was gone it was her heart that did not comprehend. She kept replaying her favorite memories over and over again. It was as if she thought about it enough then she could keep the present at bay.

She turned over away from the light. She wanted to remember.

Their wedding was the happiest day of her life. Ron was looking better and they were able to exchange their vows at the Burrow in front of a crackling fireplace on Christmas Eve. It was the best present she had ever received. Ron was her husband and she was his wife, hen had finally gotten married.

Hermione tried to think about everything about that day, the smells of evergreens, the tastes of wedding cake, the colors of the flowers, anything to stay in that moment. But the truth kept pushing forward in her thought.

He was gone, they had only had thirty-six, no only thirty-five months together and now he was gone. Hermione sobbed into her hands. Her wonderful Ron, the love of her youth, the man of her life, the kind, gentle, joyful boy that she married was gone. Hermione knew that the Ron that came back to her was not the same. He had been through too much, you could see the pain in his eyes, but Hermione knew she could bring him all the way back. In the end she failed him; she couldn't make all of the pain go away.

Bill sat by the window until his stomach rumblings stirred him out of his thoughts. He decided the best use of his time would be to find something to cook. He was hungry and Hermione would have to eat something. Bill began opening cupboards and banging round pots. He decided on a vegetable soup. His face split into a grin as he thought how lucky it had been that he was handy in the kitchen. Fleur was a terrible cook. The pain pierce through him and he had to remind himself to breathe.