Only my love

No one left to love

“Her…mio…ne…” The red head whispered weakly with all his strength. His body was shaking slightly, his eyes never blinking once. The female who clasped her hands onto her mouth, cried and wailed uncontrollably.

His breathe seemed getting slower by the second, looking aimlessly at his relatives, all standing by him to say their last goodbyes. His heart aches the most when he saw his wife's face; it may be the thing that will haunt him after his death.

With one last breathe to say her name, his body no longer in control his soul, Ronald Weasley's hand that touched Hermione Granger's face collapsed, his eyes staring right up at the ceiling. It was a harsh moment, everyone bursted out tears.

“W-well, l-let's let the d-doctors handle his b-body. C-come on everyone,” Molly Weasley wiped her tears of her wrinkled face, and pushing everyone out, although stealing a glismp of her dead son as well. They all couldn't imagine that Ron had cancer his whole life.

George winced at his brother laying dead before his eyes. It was like seeing a different version of Fred, except than because of an unfortunate case, Fred was purposely wanted to murder along with the Weasley's. But, despite the hatred growing inside of him, he shook it off.

Hermione glanced at the people she was with. Arthur was extremely busy at the Ministry, although he pleaded so many times for him to take just a day off, and therefore wasn't at present. Mrs Weasley was crying silently, and she couldn't blame her; she had lost a son.

George's hands were in his pocket, preventing to take out his wand and cast any spell to shrug of the negative feeling inside himself. Even Lavender Brown was there, his ex-girlfriend. She looked at Ron with sympathy, but Hermione could still see tears growing in her eyes.

Harry wasn't any better. He stood there emotionless, his best friend throughout the year; his best friend who defeated the troll in the girls bathroom, his best friend who helped him escape in his second year, his best friend who had sacrificed himself to kill Voldemort during the battle of Hogwarts; gone.

Hermione had no other choice but to leave. Salty tears of sorrow literally washing away her happiness, she thought it would be best to return home and stroke Crookshanks to comfort herself.

She wondered if anyone else was having a better day than her. Sure, Harry! He still had Ginny, didn't he? He still had someone to love, didn't he? He still had someone to make a future, didn't he?

Those random thoughts made her start to cry even more. The goofy smile he had was so much to her, how could fate do this to him? Why must he have cancer his whole life? And why must he keep it a secret? She could've handle it.

Rain poured down the wet girl, making her slightly dizzy of everything she once felt and treasured the very most. With a few blinks, her mind went black.

Hermione shot up from her bed, huffing uncontrollably. How did she manage to climb into her bed before she past out?

“Granger.”