Denial Leads to Madness

Hermione felt as if everything in her world had come crashing down upon her. Her body ached and her heart felt as if someone had taken an axe to it. What happened? She was lost in her own mind and couldn't find a way out.

She could hear familiar voices around her but she couldn't understand who or why they were there.

"She's sunken inside herself," she heard this whispered, but what it meant she didn't know.

"It's the deepest depression I've ever seen," said another distant, muffled voice.

Hermione dug at her eyes with her fists and screamed. The pain was so intense that she couldn't breathe or see. Nothing made sense. She couldn't remember who she was any longer. The memories were there, but they seemed blurred in her mind. What did they mean? Who was this redhead she kept seeing in flashes when she closed her eyes. She struggled to remove the image of him from her mind.

"I'm afraid she may never get over this. Even magic can't heal a broken heart," came the voice again.

She turned onto her side and felt tears rush from her eyes falling onto her pillow. The pillow was soft against her face and reminded her of a caress she missed, but why she missed it she wasn't sure. Who had caressed her cheek in such a soft, gentle way? Where were they now when she needed something familiar so badly?

++ ++ ++

She was crying again, but in her sleep her sobs could not wake her.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered against her hair as they cuddled on a couch in front of a fire.

"Oh Ron, it took you long enough to realize it," then more softly she added, "I love you too."

"I've always loved you. I thought you knew that."

"I think in my heart I knew, but it's nice to hear you say it."

He kissed her forehead and his hand smoothed over her cheek gently.

She woke screaming. Hermione could hear people enter her room and heard a muttered spell. Though she didn't know it was a spell at all. She felt suddenly calmer. But she still felt an immense pain but she stopped screaming.

++ ++ ++

Hermione remembered that she had been dreaming, but she could not remember what the dream had been about. And who was this Ron? Her mind raced and she felt a sharp pain in her chest and felt tears escape her eyes again, for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day.

She fell into a fitful sleep again dreaming of red hair and freckles, but she did not know what it meant.

"Hermione," whispered a very faint voice.

The voice was so soft and far away that Hermione paid it no mind. She didn't even know who this 'Hermione' person was anyway.

"Hermione," it said more insistently.

She looked towards the voice and saw in the corner of the white room the redhead that haunted her dreams. She reached out her arm to him and whispered, "Come." The boy shook his head and pressed his finger to his lips. She had no idea what this meant and began to cry because he would not come to her. She wanted so desperately to ask him why he wouldn't leave her alone.

And then he vanished as if he had never been there at all. Yet the voice calling to her still sounded from far away. The only person she wanted to talk to was the redhead and he was no longer there. She wept onto her pillow until she felt her pain ease. But the pain never stopped and she fell asleep, exhausted from it.

"Hold on just a moment," he whispered.

"We can't get caught, Ron."

"We won't." He smiled at her and she felt herself melt.

"I can't believe we're doing this."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he teased.

"First time at the Burrow..."

"Don't worry, everyone's gone now." He walked towards her with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He pulled off his shirt as he walked and let it fall to the ground. Her pulse rose as she stared at a freckled chest. His body was beautiful. She reached out to touch him and he shuddered at the light contact of her finger on his skin. She traced a path from one nipple to the other. He grabbed her hand and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Hold on," he said, sounding strained.

She laughed and one of his lids lifted to reveal an intense blue eye. "I don't find that funny."

"But I do," Hermione laughed seductively.

He playfully pushed her down on the bed and started to tickle her. But while she struggled she let her hand gently touch his manhood through his pants causing him to breathe in sharply. His playfulness turned into something else and the tickling ceased immediately; which she had known it would.

Kissing her deeply, he slipped off her shirt and she didn't even realize it until her bra was also being removed. How quickly his hands had become at removing her clothes. She found her own hands had managed to slip down and undo his pants while they continued kissing.

She moaned against his lips as he circled a nipple with his thumb.

Someone was shaking her. Her eyes burned as a blurred face appeared in front of her. Who was it and why had he woken her up from such a nice dream. Ron, the redhead, was always in her dreams and she yearned to see him again, even if for only a moment.

The shaking continued. Hermione whimpered painfully. There was something familiar about this boy. The only things she could make out about him were his dark hair and powerful green eyes. Who was he?

"What do you want from me!" she yelled.

His hands dropped from her shoulders and she felt his weight on the bed as he sat down. The boy then proceeded to talk, but all Hermione could hear was a low buzzing coming from his mouth. The only thing she understood was the single word: Ron.

He knew who this Ron was. Maybe he could tell her why the redhead was plaguing her dreams. But when she tried to ask him nothing came out of her mouth but a sad moan that stopped his undistinguishable chatter.

"Hermione," he whispered.

But it wasn't the brunette sitting there calling to this Hermione; it was Ron. Blue eyes looked into her and she sobbed into her open palms. She reached out to touch his face and before her hand could cup his cheek he was gone and the other boy was there. She yanked her hand away and called out to Ron.

Hermione turned away from him and clasped her hands into fists, beating her pillow and crying louder.

"How long can she keep on crying? She never stops."

"We don't know. She needs to come to terms with what has happened. But as we said before: she might never come out of it."

"Always those voices whispering; will they never shut up?" she thought. Her head hurt constantly without their noise making it worse.

++ ++ ++

"What are you doing?"

"Writing a letter."

"Hermione, I swear if that letter is to Viktor Krum I am going to..." his voice trailed off in anger.

"You'll what?" She smiled.

"I'll never talk to you again," he declared.

"Pft."

"What? I won't," he stated.

"Sure you won't."

He looked down at her and she grinned. "You don't believe me?"

"Not for a second, Ronald Weasley. Didn't your mother teach you not to tell lies?"

A freckled noise wrinkled and he plopped down on the couch next to her. "Of course."

She smiled at him happily and said, "It's a letter to my mum, if you must know."

"Good then I can give you this." He handed her a small package.

She held it in her hands and stared at it for a moment. "What's this for?"

"Open it."

"You shouldn't have gotten me anything, Ron," she whispered.

"Just open it. I've saved every knut, sickle, and galleon to get it for you, the least you can do is open the bloody thing." He slid his fingers through her hair and winked at her.

Slowly she removed the wrapping over a small velvet box and opened it up to reveal a rather small, single ruby on a gold band. Her breathe caught in the back of her throat. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen; though it wasn't flashy by any means.

"Ron, how long did you save up for this?"

"Don't worry about it."

"It must have been for awhile. I can't take this, Ron."

"Why not?"

"You could have spent this money on something else." She stared at him wide-eyed.

"There's nothing else I would've wanted to spend it on more than you, Hermione." He smiled, tenderly.

A tear slipped down her cheek and she kissed him softly.

When Hermione woke she clutched her blankets to her tightly. She gazed around confused and disoriented. Then, remembering the dream, she looked at her hands.

They were bare, save for one finger on her left hand. On it was the ruby ring Ron had given her just last year.

Ron.

She remembered now. Ronald Weasley, the boy of her dreams, her best friend, her lover. They'd just started talking about getting married and he had died.

Oh god he's dead!

"Ron." The single word fell from her lips and she heard someone gasp.

"Hermione, did you just say...?" the dark haired boy questioned, as he came to her side.

"Oh, Harry! He's gone!" she wailed. "He's really gone!"

"You said my name! Hermione, you know who I am?" Harry asked as Hermione flung herself into his arms, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes, yes I know who you are. What have I done? Where am I?"

"It doesn't matter, Hermione. I'm so glad you're back." He held her to him and motioned to the Healer that had just entered the room.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" the Healer asked.

"Bring her family in."

"But my parents died at the beginning of the war, Harry. You know that," Hermione hiccupped.

But before Harry could respond Molly Weasley bustled in, followed by Fred, George, Charlie, and Bill, the remaining Weasleys.

"We've been so worried about you, dear!" Molly smiled and enveloped Hermione in her outstretched arms.

Hermione felt dizzy, everything had happened so fast. She was still having trouble taking in that Ron was really gone and then so many of her loved ones had died in the war. Ron's face flashed in her mind's eye and her eyes clouded over with tears again.

Twenty minutes later the Healers ushered everyone out and left Hermione blissfully alone once more.

"Oh, Ron, so many things went wrong. Why couldn't I have died instead?" She cupped her face in her hands and wept again.

After her tears had subsided and she lay there waiting for sleep to come to her, she remembered something Ron had once told her at the beginning of the war:

"Hermione, if anything ever happens to me--"

"Nothing is going to happen to you, Ron."

"Listen to me! I want you to know this."

"Alright, go ahead then."

"If anything should happen to me, promise me that you won't stop living."

"What do you mean, 'stop living?'"

"I don't want you to give up on finding another love or to give up on any of your dreams. I want you to go on living life if anything should happen to me. Promise me."

"I can't, Ron. There's no one else for me but you!"

"Just promise me, Hermione! Please?"

"I promise, Ron. I won't stop living if you should...die."

"I love you."

"Have I done what he had made me promise not to do? I've almost broken my promise. How could I have done that?" She felt sick to her stomach at the thought.

From this point on Hermione resolved to keep to her promise. She'd go out there, get a job and find a place of her own...like her and Ron were going to do before, well, just before. Hermione didn't know how long it would be before she could stand the thought of dating again, but Ron would have wanted her to. It would just take her some time.

"No more crying, Hermione. Things will get better. The hurt will never stop, but life will go on. He wouldn't want you to be this way."

And before Hermione fell asleep she thought for a second that she saw a redheaded boy in the corner of her room. She knew she was still shaken from all that had happened, but she smiled, knowing that Ron might just be watching over her now.