Gravity

Prologue

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione stood silently in the wet mist of rain hat encased her at the graveyard. The burial service had ended some time ago. Minutes, hours, she didn't know. She was simply staring at the shiny new headstone that bore the name of her would-be fiancé.

'Ronald Billius Weasley

Died Fighting Valiantly Against the Dark Lord

He Will Be Remembered.'

These words were engrained into Hermione's mind forever, along with a lot of other various facts she had picked up from books. A week ago, she and Ron had been cuddling on a couch in Gryffindor tower, planning their life after graduation, trying to decide whether they wanted two or three children. Three days ago, she and Ron had been fighting beside Harry in the final battle against Voldemort. Now here she was. Without him. Tears streaming steadily down her face as she gazed at the masses of flowers placed on top of the rectangle of freshly packed earth.

During that last battle, she had left Ron. Left him to go help Harry. She could see Voldemort taunting him from where she stood fighting by Ron's side. It looked like he was doing a good job tearing him down too. Harry's face was frozen in a look of horror and hopelessness, like a man without anything to live for. And so, she had run to him, leaving Ron to fight the Death Eaters by himself, assuming Ron could handle them.

But it was only after Harry had defeated Voldemort and revived her (having been knocked out by a Stunning Spell), that she remembered Ron and noticed that he wasn't there. It took ages to find him, ages of Hermione repeating to herself that he was merely stunned, and that was why he wasn't answering their cries, that they could easily revive him once they found him.

It was Harry who found him. From ten feet away Hermione heard him gasp. She asked him what was wrong. And his hesitance to tell her was all she needed to hear. She rushed over, looking into the face of her fiancé, it was pale and his eyes were open but glazed. His face arranged in the look of terror so often found on the faces of those who had fallen victim to Avada Kedavra.

Hermione fell to the ground, waves of grief and guilt washing over her. Harry knelt slowly next to her, placing an arm around her, trying to comfort her even as the tears started running down his own face.

And that's where they stayed, clinging to each other, sobbing over the body of the third musketeer, their best friend. Finally the Order found them and returned them to Hogwarts, safe and sound, all except the pieces of them that died with Ron.

Two days after his death ('Had it really only been yesterday?') Hermione and Harry had a meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Though both of them were grief stricken at their youngest son's death, they managed to throw the usual pitying looks at Hermione. She had held hands with Harry throughout the interview. In fact, Hermione backtracked through the last three days. She and Harry had barely been out of each other's touch, and it was even more rare to see them outside of sight of each other. They had only separated when Harry had left the burial site to escort the mourners to the reception, but Hermione had not been ready to go with the witches and wizards, try to act cheerful, and hear everyone's happy memories of Ron.

Hermione was brought out of her thoughts by the feeling that someone was standing behind her. She knew it was Harry. Turning around, sure enough, there was Harry. As if he knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed him to do, as he so often did, he walked to her and put his arms around her, pulling her close in a warm comforting hug, and she, in turn, wrapped her arms around him, glad for something to hold her down, keep her feet on the ground, keep the world spinning.

They stayed that way for a long time.