Tears by BittersweetLove
Chapter Notes: I wrote this because I wanted to write about Ron and his pretty eyes. yes, I know, I'm crazy. This is also my first fanfic, so be as cruel as you want, cuz i need it!
Disclaimer: All the characters, sadly, don't belong to me, but to the talented J.K. Rowling. And the song at the end is called "Follow Through" by Gavin Degraw.
Ron sighed inwardly as he walked into his flat in London. He flopped onto the couch, wondering why he became an Auror. An Auror’s life was so tiring.
He, of course, had known that being a wizard trying to undo all the evil in the world, would be tiring. Maybe that is why he decided to become one. But he had not known that an Auror’s life would be so littered with casualties. As he stared out the frosty window into the Muggle streets sprinkled with snow, he thought of the upcoming Hogwarts reunion. He didn’t know how he could face it without Harry, Hermione and everyone else who had died that fateful day. The day the almighty Lord Voldemort was vanquished.
The Last Battle was a battle like no other. Every Auror was fighting along with the Order of the Phoenix. And so many of those brave and noble people had lost their lives defeating the thing that they had lived in fear of since their birth.
Harry and Ron had trained to become Aurors together. It would have been just like school if Harry hadn’t kept on disappearing to find more Horcruxes. He was more subdued then, as if he had already suffered a great loss. Which he had. Harry took Dumbledore’s death with a great force. But back then he put that force to work and used it to find every last Horcrux and destroy every last piece of Voldemort’s tattered and black soul. Hermione and himself had offered to help their old friend, but he had refused. This was a task for him, and only him.
“So modest,” Ron thought out loud to himself. Harry was modest. He had put his own life in front of his friends’ lives, his loved ones.
When Harry had destroyed every last Horcrux, the Order, the Aurors and Ron and Hermione journeyed to the Riddle House, where Voldemort was rumored to be hiding. They met every single Death Eater, giant and dementor with force. They fought hard, creating a path for Harry to continue. Ron had seen the deaths of so many people that he knew and loved. Fleur had been killed pushing Bill out of the way of Lucius Malfoy’s curse. Bill died killing Malfoy in revenge. Neville sought out Bellatrix Lestrange, the person who had tortured his parents into madness, and fought with her until she died. But even he had died, hit from behind by a Killing curse from Draco Malfoy. Her brown hair crackling with fury, Hermione had taken revenge on Malfoy, but was killed in the process.
Harry fought his way through the ranks of Death Eaters and almost was at the Riddle house. Ron was following him.
“No Ron! Go back!” he said, his face contorted with rage. When Ron refused, Harry softened. “Please Ron,” he muttered softly. “This is my job.”
A single tear had leaked from Ron’s beautiful blue eyes, running down his smooth skin, as he remembered that fateful day. No sound came from his lips. The tears just fell, like a waterfall, from his shining eyes.
They all stopped their battles when the heard the screams. The screams that signaled the end of Voldemort’s terrible rein over the Wizarding World. Ron ran inside first, knowing what he would see. The great Lord Voldemort lying dead at one end of the room, The Boy Who Lived at the other. The scream that emitted from Voldemort’s throat when he died was nothing compared with the cry of anguish from Ron. Ginny, her face shining with tears, pulled Ron away from the dead bodies as the Aurors tried to round up the remaining Death Eaters. Ron did not even try to. He stared as Harry’s body was carried outside to lay with the others to be transported to their resting places. Harry lay in the center, flanked by the bodies of Hermione and Neville. Ron, his face twisted as though trying not to see, stared at the bodies of those he had loved.
He stared at Harry a long time and noticed something. The scar, the mark Voldemort had left upon him, was faded. There was nothing blemishing his pale skin anymore.
Ron awoke from this reverie, his cerulean eyes red with tears, at a soft knocking at the door. He looked up, but did not say anything. Ginny let herself into the room, knowing that Ron wouldn’t invite her. The death of Harry had taken a great toll on the once radiant redhead Ron had been proud to call his sister. She was calmer now, her eyes always looking to the ground to hide the pain that would never go away. But still she tried to keep on his feet. After all, Ron was all she had left.
“Come on Ron. Let’s go to Hogwarts. There are still people there who would love to see you,” Ginny said, keeping the remorse in her voice to a bare minimum. She paused, “I’m sure Harry would have wanted us to…” her voice faltered.
With that, Ron stood up. Ginny led him to the fireplace, for she knew his mind wouldn’t have the ability to Apparate.
The two Weasleys stepped out of the warm, spinning fireplace and into the loving hands of Hogwarts. For the first time since Harry died, Ron actually saw his baby sister crying openly. She usually hid from the rest of the human world when she needed to cry.
Ron saw old friends he had shut himself away from when Harry died. They all tried to cheer him up and reassure him. For once, Ron took their advice. As he sat down with Dean and Seamus at the old Gryffindor table, he looked towards the doors and swore he saw Harry and Hermione walking towards them, laughing freely. But as quickly as they came, they left. As he turned back towards the feast, he remembered a song Hermione told him about by an American singer named Gavin Degraw.
This is the start of something new, don’t you agree?
A/N: 11/15: Some minor changes in wording and things like that have been made. Nothing huge, I just had a spurt of imagination.