Fallen Dynasty (Dramione)

Two - The Decision

Non est vivere sed valere vita

Life is more than merely staying alive.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

It wasn't always like this.

Hermione sat deep in thought, arm bandaged and head only slightly throbbing, as Ron and Harry actually thought over the Reaper's proposal. Her ears still rung loudly, blocking out the ridiculous talk and chatter. They paced around the barely lit room, the sun just barely shining through the window as it slowly —so, so slowly— set on the English countryside. It was summertime and absolutely sweltering, so much so that even the pale pink rose bushes lining the gardens were beginning to fade to a cream colored white in the heat.

Candlesticks, melted down with use due to long nights studying maps and blueprints, were lit and helped the incoming darkness just a bit. The orange, flickering light glowed across the trio's faces, alongside Moody, Kingsley, McGonagall, Tonks, and Lupin.

The air was tense, full of sorrow, mourning, and anger. Ron was tossing between the emotions of fuming mad and sobs of grief. His blue eyes were glistening with unshed tears that she was sure would fall again the second the room was empty. He and Lavender were actually making strides in their relationship after he and Hermione's burnt out long, long ago — before the war even started.

Now, they all three had lost someone very dear to them.

Unfortunately, that was probably the only thing the trio had in common these days. Hermione was first to lose someone during the first year of the war, then Harry with Ginny, and now Ron's loss of Lavender.

Grief.

Heartbreak.

Loss.

It wasn't always like this.

Hermione sat there, a shell of the person she once was, deep in thought. The walls of her occlumency were shaky but she sat there, eyes shut, building them higher and stronger in her mind. She couldn't break down now. Not with everything at stake.

Before, she would have used her loud voice of reason and logic, letting them know this was not a good idea. She didn't want to be used as their martyr once more. It seemed like she was watching herself from far away, the pieces of her scattered around and desperately trying to come together again. She knew her heart would never be the same even if she glued all of her broken pieces together by herself.

Not after him.

They resented her for it — Harry and Ron.

She knew they did.

She knew they both thought the loss of him was what caused her to not pay attention in the field, to allow Ginny to be killed.

And now — Lavender, too.

She could feel it in their heated stares and their quiet whispers from afar. She could feel it in the way they closed doors to keep her out, only speaking to her when it was time for her to be involved.

She couldn't find it in herself to care anymore.

Every piece of her heart was lost that day.

Now, they knew how terrible it was to love something that death could touch.

It was twisted to think this way. She knew it was. She shouldn't wish that her once best friends knew how it felt to lose the love of their lives, but a sick part inside of her hoped they now understood her pain. Maybe, just maybe, they could be friends again.