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Hot tears rolled down the cheeks of a young witch. Her face, normally so bright and rosy was now drained and empty.
She had lost everything.
He had died to make the world a better place, but how could the world be a better place without him in it?
Besides her Harry shuffled on his feet. He had tears streaming down his own face and was taking quick, sharp breaths. His eyes were puffy and red and uneven stubble was beginning to grow across his chin. He had not taken well to this latest emotional blow.
It was hard for him too, but not like it was for her. He hadn’t loved him, not like she had.
She had loved him for a long time, since third year at least, and the worst part? She had never told him.

The cool autumn breeze blew against her robes, messing her hair and drying her tears.
A pointed witches hat and black veil covered her face but everyone could still tell it was she. Her unmistakable slouch a dead give away. But for once it wasn’t from books or work, it was from pain and the agony of losing a loved one. Ron Weasley.

The occasional witch or wizard approached her, expressing their sorrow, or concern.
It mattered not to her what they thought. They only opinions that had ever mattered, really were the ones of those already gone.

Hermione Granger stood at the end of the line, at the end of the guard of honour.
Hundreds of people gathered, some merely knew him by sight, others by heart.
She knew him by both, and more. She’d watch him grow. From a gangly, under-confident eleven year old boy to an even ganglier, yet powerful young man.

He said he’d always be there for her. But he wasn’t it, was a lie. She knew it was stupid to blame him for it. But she did. If only he hadn’t been so noble.

She watched as the four remaining Weasley brothers carried his casket up the path.
She could tell that it was more than the physical weight of their brother’s death upon their shoulders.
Their faces, so shattered and weary, held more emotion than most people could ever feel in their hearts.

All around her people wept into handkerchiefs and onto each other’s shoulders. No one could comprehend the fact that he was gone.
Ron Weasley was dead, so why had the world not ended? How was it that everything could keep going, while such a key part, or so many people lives had just departed?
That was what Hermione wanted to know.

Her whole body now shook as they approached her. She drew the veil tighter around her face and her body was racked with grief. She bowed her head and began to cry. She had never cried like it before. It was like her heart was pouring out of her eyes. What she felt was unexplainable. What was even the point of living?

“Hermione.” George Weasley placed a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t need to speak. She understood. Hermione nodded and George walked on.

Harry was by her side again holding her hand. He was glancing distractedly around, watching the mourners milling around, consoling one another or crying to themselves. There was not one of them who wasn't in tears. 
He looked over his shoulder then back at Hermione. Something was clearly on his mind.


He sounded urgent, almost panicked, restricted. She paid him no attention. Her eyes were fixed on the casket disappearing over the hill.

“Hermione.” Harry squeezed her hand, trying to get her to look at him. His eyes bored into her skull, but still she ignored him.

The Casket was gone. Ron was gone. All was gone. 

She glanced down at the white flesh on the inside of her arm. It would be so easy.

Harry grabbed her shoulders and steered he around to face him. She could not bear to look into his eyes. His piercing green eyes. She had never been able to hold ter gaze.
Harry looked straight at her.

“I have to leave Hermione.”

She nodded, not really understanding his words or how much they would come to mean to her later on.

“I’m leaving.”

He hesitated a little before he kissed her swiftly on the forehead, and with one last imploring look, turned on his heel and walked away. 

A single sob escaped Hermione's lips, although she did not really understand.

She watched his figure walking into distance. He reached the boundry of the grounds and turned on the spot, and then he was gone.

Ron had gone, just like her parents, and now Harry too.

There was nothing left for her here.


Author’s note: Okay. So that was a very short chapter, but I only really wanted to know if it intrigued anyone. Is it too cliché? It's pretty over dramatic, or not, I mean all her friends and family are dead (pretty much.)
 To be honest, I don’t really know where I’m going to go with it. He he. Thanks guys, tell me what you think! please review!

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