#im so sorry for killing ron
final one! i hate this update sm but thanks for reading. read ‘the leaky cauldron’ and ‘illicit affairs’ before embarking.
trigger warning: ptsd, nightmares, alcoholism, violence, trauma, major character death
The shadow covers me
The sky above a blaze that only lovers see
Amy Winehouse, ‘Tears Dry On Their Own’
Ron looks like someone’s punched him in the gut. The anger and betrayal and pain that burn through his eyes make Hermione wish the ground would swallow her whole.
It’s over, it’s over, my friends, Ron, Harry, everyone and everything I fought for, it’s over, it’s finished -
It’s Draco who speaks first. ‘Weasley, listen -’
‘Shutup,Malfoy, you bastard -’ Spit flies from Ron’s mouth, and tears well in his honest eyes. He’s reaching for his wand -
‘No!’ Hermione screams. In her panic, she lets the bedsheet that she’s been clutching to herself fall. Gooseflesh covers her body but she’s warm from embarrassment as she gathers the sheet up again. Ron’s eyes don’t stray from her face, not for one second. They look so lost, and so sad, and oh god, what have we done?
Draco’s fumbling into a pair of scruffy trousers.
‘Hermione -’ Ron’s voice cracks.
She’s crying now. ‘Ron, I’m so sorry -’
‘How long?’
She can’t answer, because she knows the answer is toolong.
‘It was when you started staying here overnight, wasn’t it?’
‘What’s it to you, Weasley -’ All of a sudden, he’s the same Draco that picked on her at school.
‘SHUT UP, MALFOY!’ Ron roars, brandishing his wand, and suddenly Draco’s whipped his out too, and they’re going to fight, they’re going to kill each other, and it’s all my fault -
‘NO!’ Hermione screams again. Ron drops his wand a little at this, and Draco, now back to herDraco, touches her shoulder gently. His hand is shaking.
‘We can leave, Granger. We could leave this all behind, us two together, I know you’re not happy -’
‘Oh, it’s Grangernow, is it?’ Ron yells. ‘No more MUDBLOOD?’
Draco flinches, and Ron notices. He laughs bitterly. ‘You might - you might feel bad about it now, but that doesn’t mean you can just erase all the hateful things you said to her -’
‘Ron!’ Hermione’s voice is high and shrill. The tears are a waterfall now, and Draco’s hand is still on her shoulder, and she never wants it to leave.
Ron’s face crumples. ‘Why him?’He whispers. ‘When the waitress who worked here told me, I didn’t - I didn’t believe it. But I had to see for myself - Hermione, why? He was horribleto you for years - he fought for fucking VOLDEMORT, for fuck’s sake!’
Oh god oh god oh god
Hermione pushes the urge to throttle the bloody waitress out of her mind and focuses on the matter at hand.
‘I don’t know,’ she croaks. ‘I don’t - Ron, please don’t cry, please!’
‘Granger.’ His hand’s digging into her shoulder. It will leave a mark to accompany all the other ones he’s left on her.
Ron’s face is red and blotchy and he’s shoving his hands to his face like he can’t believe what’s happening and it’s awful it’s awful -
‘Hermione, I know things haven’t been… amazing between us - maybe we were just better off being friends, I don’t know - but for you to be fucking Draco bloody Malfoy -’
Aforementioned gently places Hermione’s robes in front of her. She wants nothing more than for him to hold her and never let go, but she couldn’t do that to Ron.
Like you’ve not done enough to him already -
Draco’s voice is a whisper. ‘Come on, Hermione, let’s go.’
‘You fucking - STUPEFY!’
‘PROTEGO!’
Ron’s spell rebounds back towards him. He flies across the room - and there’s a sickening crack as his head hits the wall.
Hermione screams. The blood drains from Draco’s face. He runs to Ron, who’s head is at a funny angle.
She’s sick with fear, all over the crisp white sheets.
‘Weasley - Weasley, are you alright -’
Hermione wipes the vomit from her mouth and crawls over to the two men she loves.
You said loves -
Yes I did.
Draco’s desperately feeling for Ron’s pulse, and he’s sobbing now too.
‘Weasley, wake up, please,wake up -’
‘RON!’
After what feels like hours, Draco gives up feeling for a heartbeat and lies Ron on the dusty floor. He starts to push down hard onto his chest, so hard that Hermione’s scared he’ll break Ron’s ribcage -
What does his ribcage matter anymore when he’s -
She clamps a sweaty hand over her mouth.
Draco’s still pushing but it’s not working, so he tries blocking Ron’s nose and breathing into his mouth, and when that doesn’t work, Hermione tries instead.
There’s only so much you can do -
SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPPPPPPP
She tries all the healing spells she ever learnt at Hogwarts and read about in her textbooks.
It feels like the sun has set by the time Hermione gives up.
Draco pulls her into his chest. They cry together until the sky above’s ablaze with reds and oranges and pinks.
They don’t tell Harry the truth. Actually, Hermione doesn’t tell Harry the truth. As far as he knows, Draco is still hiding somewhere after the judges at his trial allowed him to escape Azkaban.
What Hermione does tell Harry and Ron’s family is similar to the truth. She says Ron died from a head injury after his spell rebounded while fighting a criminal; he was an Auror, after all. Her and Draco agreed that it was the easiest choice. Maybe the Sorting Hat was wrong, and she should have been put in Slytherin.
It’s a possibility that they’ll be found out. Hermione doesn’t care. She’s going to tell Harry the truth, one day. She knows she owes it to Ron to do so.
For now, she says that she needs to spend some time away from it all. Travel a bit. Harry understands. His kind eyes and round glasses and the childhood memories that cling to him make Hermione want to pull her hair out.
She dreams of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The ceiling is bewitched to look like the night sky, and the tables are piled high with food. She’s laughing with Harry and Ron. She dreams of Bellatrix opening her arm with a knife, and Ron coming to save her while Draco looks away. She dreams of obliviating the waitress, and wanting to punch her face in. Draco holds her back as she kicks and screams.
He’s always there, and Hermione’s glad. If there’s one thing she hates now, it’s being left alone, and she knows it’s the same for him. They move from muggle home to muggle home where there’s very little chance they’ll be recognised, constantly checking which family goes on holiday when. Draco talks about breaking into his father’s vault at Gringotts and stealing some of the Malfoy family fortune so that they have more to live on. Hermione doesn’t know whether he’s joking or not.
He’s there for the nightmares and cold sweats that Hermione’s starting to accept will never go away. She holds his clammy hands as he vomits into a toilet bowl when the memories of Voldemort’s visits to Malfoy Manor rear their ugly heads. She reprimands him when he makes a throwaway comment about muggleborns, because even after his change of heart, he still has so much left to learn. Hermione tries to teach him, and he listens.
Sometimes they argue, and sometimes their fights are as petty as the ones they used to have at Hogwarts about who was top of the class. But sometimes there’s screaming, and throwing things, and Hermione will tell Draco it’s his fault Ron’s dead. Sometimes he’ll hex her, but she always deflects his spells. Sometimes he’ll storm out and won’t be home for hours, but just as Hermione’s finished crying herself hoarse he’ll stumble in, blind drunk. Sometimes this will make her cry even more. Sometimes she’ll go and kiss him anyway.
Weeks turn into months, and months turn into years. Draco complains about the muggle way of life, even though Hermione knows he finds some of their customs fascinating. It isn’t as easy for her to admit, but she misses the wizarding world too.
She dreams of Draco and Ron, but she only wakes up to one of them, now. The white blonde hair that used to mean insults and torment when she saw it across a school classroom is now a welcome sight on the pillow next to hers, even if that sight fills her with guilt every second of every day.
She wouldn’t feel right without it.
It’s funny how these things work out.
The End
