In Between Lovers

"Harry!"

The rain was beating down onto them like bullets. Harry had fallen to his knees, his hands clasped and clutching at his forehead. He was screaming in pain. Ron was standing beside Hermione, grasping her hand firmly in his. Hermione was trying to run forward, but Ron held her back.

Hermione tried to ignore the horrible presence before them. She tried to ignore the horrible feeling in her gut. Voldemort, with his glowing, red eyes, was standing before Harry, his hands shaking with excitement. His horrible voice rang through the night. Though the howling wind whistled past Hermione's ears, she heard each of his words pronounced with precision. He was screaming at Bellatrix Lestrange, who had fallen to her knees beside him and was pleading pitifully. The fear in her eyes was evident.

All of a sudden, the rain started falling more gently. The wind died down, and soon the night was silent. Bellatrix was still hunched over in a huddled mass, though her sobs had ceased. Voldemort clutched Bellatrix's hair with one hand, his long, pale fingers a contrast to her dark mane. His other hand was raised, pointing his wand up towards the moon. The howling winds stopped completely, and the night was now completely still. Hermione felt Ron's grip on her hand loosen slightly. Harry had looked up, though it looked like it pained him to do so. All the light had drained from his eyes.

"Very good, Harry Potter. You successfully destroyed the last of my Horcruxes. It is such a shame dear Draco didn't get to Dumbledore before he had the chance to teach you about me," Voldemort paused and gave a slight tug on Bellatrix's hair, causing her to cry out.

"None of that matters now, though. The foolish boy is dead, as well as that foolish old man, and I have you right where I want you. You can't possibly escape now, Potter. You are bowing right before me, and neither the Mudblood nor the blood traitor Weasley can do anything to save you now."

Voldemort's cruel voice had grown more high-pitched with each word he had spoken. Hermione tried to fight back the tears in her eyes. She searched desperately for a plan. There had to be something.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry's forehead.

Bellatrix looked up, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked.

Hermione tore away from Ron's loosened grip and dove in front of the jet of green light. She heard a loud shriek of rage and terror from Bellatrix, and then the world went black.

And in her last moment as a living being, Hermione thought not of Ron or Harry. She didn't think of her parents, or of all those that had lost their lives in the War. She thought not of her times at Hogwarts or of her first day learning magic. She refused to think of how, in a few weeks' times, she would've been Ron's wife.

She thought of flaming red hair.

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Ginny felt it at once. She dropped the book she was holding and closed her eyes. A chill wind blew in through the open window, which she immediately moved to shut. She had just finished unpacking the last of her things and had tucked them away into various drawers of her bureau.

There was a loud crack. Ginny whirled around to see bedraggled looking Ron standing before her with his eyes downcast. Another loud crack sounded and Harry appeared beside him, tears fresh in his eyes. He was shaking violently. She waited in vain for another loud crack. There was only silence. Ginny averted her eyes, choosing to look out the window instead. It was incredibly dusty, she thought to herself, trying to ignore the creeping sensation she felt deep inside her stomach. Her fingers twitched with the longing to feel Hermione's soft skin again. Her hands wandered to her pocket, where she found her wand.

"Where is she?" Ginny asked, her heart in her throat.

"Dead," Harry answered simply.

Ron sunk to his knees. Two puddles of water had formed where each of them was standing. Ginny watched as their two puddles grew in size until they connected and became one. Her eyes glazed over and her vision blurred. The word "dead" rang in her ears, taunting her. Harry came forward to embrace her, but she turned away.

"How?" Ginny asked, her voice quavering.

"She jumped in front of me before I could do anything. And then I just - did it. It's over though, Ginny. It's all over. The War is finished," Harry said, sounding as though it took a great amount of strength to speak.

"He's dead?" Ginny said quietly, surprised to find herself quite uninterested.

"Yes. Bellatrix too," Harry said with a slight nod.

Ron was still on the floor, his head in his hands. Harry was staring at the back of Ginny's head, noticing that she was wearing her hair up for the first time in a long while. He reached out with one hand and pulled her back into him. She fell into his arms with ease. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'm going to miss her too," he whispered.

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"We've gathered here today to celebrate the life of a wonderful, bright young woman."

The Muggle priest spoke in monotone, his cold eyes darting about the page from which he was reading. Ginny watched him from behind her veil, feeling anger build up inside of her. This man knew nothing about Hermione. Why was it he that got to stand there and speak loving words that meant absolutely nothing? In her effort not to scream, Ginny gritted her teeth.

Everyone around her was crying. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Granger were dressed the most elegantly. Mr. Granger held his wife in his arms as she sobbed helplessly into his shoulder. Harry stood, staring with glassy eyes at the extravagantly decorated coffin before him. The remaining Weasleys stood in a line, silent. Fred and George were being completely serious for the first time in their lives. Charlie shook his head every now and then in disbelief. Ron let tears fall freely down his cheeks. Ginny watched them fall from the tip of his nose and soak into the ground. Minerva McGonagall had joined them; choosing against the tartan robes she usually wore for formal occasions and instead wearing black robes of velvet. Neville Longbottom was standing off to the side, as though he didn't want to be seen. Luna Lovegood stood a little ways off as well, looking more solemn than Ginny had ever seen her before. She was dressed in a bright orange sundress, her dirty-blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun.

" - Hermione was a brilliantly talented girl -"

Each time the priest mentioned Hermione's name, Ginny wrapped her arms a little tighter around the item she clutched protectively to her chest. With each passing second, she felt herself dwindling closer to tears. She shut her eyes tightly, willing herself not to cry. Though she felt them prick her eyes, tears never fell.

"Would anyone like to say any last words?"

Ginny looked up. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were shaking their heads. She surveyed the crowd and saw that no one else had spoken up. A few had even started to drift away. She took this as her opportunity and stepped forward. The coffin had already started to be lowered into the ground.

"I have something I'd like to give her," Ginny said numbly.

The priest peered at her curiously before nodding. Ginny turned to the large hole they had dug and held out the item she had been clutching so long. With a resigned sigh, Ginny took one look at the red, cloth book that she had held close to her every night since Hermione's death. Hermione had regarded it as her favorite book, and Ginny wanted Hermione to have it with her. With shaking hands, Ginny let go. The book tumbled down after Hermione, as though desperate to follow her. It landed with a soft thud.

Ginny turned and took a deep breath. She smiled sadly at all the mourners before her. It made her sick to see the looks of sympathy and pity. With one last glance at Hermione's coffin, Ginny stalked off through the soft grass, silently recognizing how beautiful the day was.

-FINISHED-