Apocalypse and You | Dramione

June 23rd, 2001.

June 23rd, 2001.

Hermione woke to the sound of pounding on her bedroom door. It took her less than two seconds to rush and open it with shaking hands.

"Ron?" Her eyes were wide as Ron strode into her room. His hands were shaking at his sides. He had tears in his eyes. He looked broken. "Ron what-what's going on?"

He gripped her shoulders in his hands.

She hadn't seen him this distraught since he saw Harry's dead body, covered in blood and dirt, being carried in Hagrid's arms back to the school grounds. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

So much had happened since then. Bad things. Good things. - Mostly bad.

"Do you realise, by tomorrow I may not remember who you are?" He gulped. "By next week, you may not even remember me, or Harry, or Luna, or Ginny. Him. You realise by next month we may not know who we really are? What we really are?"

Her stomach fell into a pit of pain. A pit of worry. It was enough for years to prick at her eyes.

She shook her head, gripping her friends arms in her hands. She ran a thumb across the skin on his forearm.

"They won't find us, Ron." She didn't believe herself.

A tear ran down his face, pooling into the crease between his nose and cheek. Hermione thought for a moment he may pass out.

"He wiped another thousand today. A thousand. That's a thousand wizards who believe they are nothing but muggles." His hands dropped from her shoulders. "T-they Obliviated Malfoy today, Theo Nott, even Narcissa. And Lavender. They killed Hagrid last week. They killed-fuck Hermione. Who knew it would come to this?"

Hermione wanted to cry for him. He had proposed to Lavender just three weeks prior.

Hermione pursed her lips. Sadness ripped throughout her body. If Voldemort could happily punish Wizards like the Malfoy family, who had been trusty Death Eaters throughout the war, They would never spare her and Ron. Or the Weasley's. Luna, Seamus, Cho. He had even killed Neville the moment Nagini's head fell from her body. It made her want to be violently sick. He was cruel. There was nothing she could do to stop him, not anymore.

She tried to not let her mind flood with the image of Malfoy's face, of Narcissa.

Because they had been good.

But there was nothing- Nothing that she could do.

It was never meant to come to this.

Many Wizards had betrayed Voldemort's trust since he won the war. Since he carried back Harry's lifeless teen body and left it to rot against the canopy. She wondered what Wizards would even remain.

"Ron." She tried to steady her voice. It didn't work. It wavered and cracked as she spoke his name. "We have to stay positive."

"H-how, Hermione?" He sat against her bed. The red sheets crumbled beneath his weight. "What am I meant to do if I forget you? What am I meant to do if they kill you, or me, or us both?"

Hermione tried to not retch at the thought of losing her other best friend. She had not even recovered from the loss of Harry. It had been many years, yet she hadn't touched the glasses he left on her kitchen counter. Physically, she could not bring herself to touch them.

"We have too many memories, Hermione." His voice was now hardly audible. "All I can think about is meeting you on the Hogwarts express. All i can think about is growing up with you, with Harry, with magic surrounding me. I think i'd rather die than to live without all of this."

She sat beside him. Her head fell against his shoulder. She savoured the smell of his cranberry body wash.

"Give me your hand." She spoke, he rose his palm unconsciously. It shook under her touch. She grasped her wand from her pocket and pointed it towards the skin on his thumb. He gasped as she muttered 'Atramento'.

She watched the black letters sink into his skin;

HRH

She gulped before pointing her wand at her own hand and doing the same. It stung. It stung beautifully.

It mirrored Ron's tattoo. But she had added an extra initial.

"This way, even if it comes to the point of forgetting me. We will always be there." A salty tear fell down Hermione's face. Her stomach pulsated with the oncoming grief. "I think our hearts will always remember each other, Ron. No matter what. You're my best friend. Nothing can replace that."

He nodded. He pressed a kiss against her temple and held her while they both began to sob.

Bellatrix Lestrange murdered Ron Weasley the next day in the ironic comfort of his family home.

Hermione never knew.

She would never know.