Round 1, Challenge 9: Voting
Heh! Well, I'd have a tissue read if I were you! As you're probably aware, the prompt this week was 'Dying' as in dead dying, so no taking off marks for killing off either Ron or Hermione, as I made them! lol
Below the cuts are the drabbles and the poll for the sixth challenge of rwhg_ldws.
If you wish to submit your scores as a comment, please feel free to do so, the comments to this post are screened.
• Please mark each drabble out of 10
• Please mark all of the drabbles. If you don't, none of your scores will count.
• If you are taking part please do not vote for your own drabble. If you do I shall delete the score you give it from the final tally and making me do more maths than is absolutely necessary is just evil.
• The order of the drabbles is random.
Drabble 1
Author: maybe1ce
Title: That Good Night
Rating: PG
Words: 500
Author's Note (if any): None
"I miss good food." He pushes aside the tray of admittedly dreadful Hospice fare and pulls a face. "When will Harry just kill the bastard? I want to go home!"
"Soon." It had barely registered with Ron when Harry died in his sleep last spring. Sorrow and loss were fleeting, and his mind was soon occupied by excitement over Scabber's new trick.
At first, it had been just lost thoughts, snacks and quills. But, the day we found him on Platform 9 3/4, trying to board the Express, we knew something was very wrong. Now, over ninety years of memories are shuffled like cards in a deck, and every day I must watch my husband deal and play another random hand.
He's pouting now. "OWLs aren't for months, Hermione. Just one game?"
"Of course."
~~~~~~~~~~
So many of the other visitors here aren't even recognised. Husbands are called "Granddad," and daughters called "Sweetheart," their loved ones' minds unable to comprehend time and aging. No matter what story is unfolding in Ron's head, he always calls me by name. He knows me. He always did.
~~~~~~~~~~
Why am I trying to tell him about this? Certainly, I want to be sure he understands, so he won't be hurt or frightened when my visits suddenly stop, but, mostly I want him to hold me and cry with me, as I did with him.
Today isn't a good day, at least not for me. For him, it's apparently delightful, as he's just played an outstanding game of Quidditch.
"'Failing, failing'...a little failure won't kill you, Hermione," he interrupts me crossly, eager to regale me with the details of his heroics on the pitch.
"Ron, you don't...."
"Forget it, Hermione. I'll go find Lavender. She understands. That's probably why she's my girlfriend."
I can't do this, not today. I silently leave the room. The tears come as I lean against the closed door.
"Heart failure, Ron." I whisper in the empty corridor. "My heart is failing." It feels like it already has.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ironically, failure will kill us both. My heart, his kidneys...we're racing together towards a grim finish line. I'm cold tonight, shivering as we hold hands in a rare companionable silence.
"Stay." He smiles shyly. "I promise to be a gentleman, and I'll wake you before my mum comes up."
He has asked before, but tonight, I am so tired...too tired to say no. He is warm next to me beneath the thin quilt, and his soft breathing is a familiar lullaby.
"Hermione." His voice is unusually clear, as though he is waking up from a long nap. "We made a good run of it, didn't we?"
"Yes, a very good run."
"My whole life, everything...you're the best bit."
"I love you, Ron."
"I love you, too." Outside, the snow has started to gather at the sill. He sighs contentedly. "Once we're married, I'll hold you like this every night."
"I can't wait."
Tomorrow, we'll awaken together, soft and warm.
I'm sure of it.
Drabble 2
Author: mugglemama
Title: Being Brave
Rating: PG
Words: 500 exactly (and yes, I manually counted just to be certain)
Author's Note (if any): In Ron's final moments his loved ones find comfort in the fact he seems at peace ... they couldn't be more wrong. *Thanks to those should be thanked*
The first thing Ron noticed was silence. But for the occasional rustle of fabric, there was no sound. He tried to open his eyes to figure out where he was, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He suddenly became aware of someone's presence.
"Hi there."
Harry! What's going on? Where am I?
"Any change?" Harry asked.
Change? What kind of change?
"No, but we didn't expect there would be."
Hermione! You're here!
"We still don't know what kind of spell hit him."
A painful one.
"At least the Healers have made him comfortable, until... um..." Harry's voice sounded hoarse.
Healers? I’m at St. Mungo's! Tell you what; the healers are idiots - every inch of my freaking body hurts!
"He seems peaceful.”
Peaceful? When in the name of Merlin's manky pants have I ever been peaceful?
"It won't be long," Harry continued.
Won't be long for ... wait, what? … No! Absolutely not! That can't be what ... Shit, it hurts. I can't breathe. Hermione? Say something. Do something! Help me!
"Harry, will you leave us alone please?"
Finally!
Harry's voice was suddenly very near Ron’s ear. "Take care, mate."
I don't care what Potter says, I'm not 'heading for the light' or 'catching the train from King's Cross' or whatever he effing calls it. I DO NOT WANT TO DIE, DAMMIT!
"Ron, can you hear me?”
I hear you Luv, I do!
"Open your eyes, Ron Weasley, right now! Open them, damn you!"
I can’t!
Ron didn't need to open his eyes to know Hermione's lips were quivering as she held back tears.
"I won't lie to you, Ron. It's not good. If there were even a shred of hope, I'd tell you to fight ... but there isn't any."
Ron could feel her hand on his chest, moving with his shallow breaths.
Hermione, it hurts too much. Please help me.
“Oh god, how will I live without you, Ron?"
You won't have to. I'm NOT leaving you! We can fix this.
"Rose and Hugo... they’re on their way." Hermione's resolve finally broke and she began sobbing in earnest. "Ron, our babies...”
No! Hermione, you can't let them...
"They'll want to say goodbye.”
Ron recognized the determination in Hermione's voice as her composure returned.
“Listen carefully. Remember when your mum passed, how you made me promise that if the time ever came I wouldn't let them see you like that?"
Ron recalled the sad shell of his mother as she lay dying, suffering and weak and so… not her. He'd sworn he'd do anything in his power to spare his children a similar memory of him.
This can't be how they remember me - I won't allow it!
"Don't be afraid Ron." He felt her tears as she kissed his limp hand. "Not you, you're the bravest man I've ever known."
Mum used to say you can only be brave if you’re scared, and I’m so effing scared right now. Please Hermione, help me be brave. Tell me one more time...
"I love you."
Hermione ... I ….
Drabble 3
Author: belladonna803
Title: Splinched
Rating: PG
Words: 500
Author's Note (if any): *holds Ron close*
Not like this.
Ron couldn't die like this.
Alone, where no one would find him. Fucking Apparition! He'd left Neville at The Leaky, stepped into the alley for a little space, as the place had been packed with patrons, and one, two--
The searing pain that stabbed at his chest had surprised him, and he'd known instantly that he was in trouble. He should have appeared just inside the front garden gate at home. Instead, he had collapsed on wet, spongy ground feeling as though a Hippogriff was sitting on his chest. Nausea punched him in the gut, and he rolled feebly onto his stomach to retch.
Dark blood. Lots of it.
In a hot, blinding panic he searched for his wand. Something had gone unimaginably wrong, and he had to get to Hermione. Shaking fingers groped the sodden ground. Here...somewhere...
Finally his hand curled around the blessed shaft of his wand. With great effort he flipped himself back over and looked around. The treetops grew thickly together, and he stared up into them, the edges of his mind tickling in remembrance. He'd been here before.
Snow. There had been snow, and the cool radiance of a Patronus...a doe.
Ron didn't have time to fathom how he'd landed in the Forest of Dean, of all places, but he held tight to the knowledge, and focused on what mattered-Hermione.
The memory flared brightly in his mind like a freshly lit candle, as powerful now as the moment had been all those years ago. The look on Hermione's face as she'd dropped the Basilisk's yellowed fangs and launched herself into his arms. The slick warmth of the kiss, joyous and frantic as he'd fisted her hair, everything else forgotten.
Despite the eerie, creeping coldness that had begun to seep into his bones, he felt calm now. He knew what to do.
“Expec--” Blood gushed from his mouth in rivulets as he coughed. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“Ex-expecto Patronum.” The faintest silvery shimmer disturbed the air, then was gone. He did his best to clear his throat, and tried again.
“Expecto Patronum.”
The terrier leaped from the tip of his wand with reassuring urgency. Ron managed to catch sight of its whip-like tail as it bounded away into the dense thicket.
So cold.
The minutes seemed like hours, but then--
“Ron!” She sounded scared, and far away, but she was there.
“Ron, what's happened?” He opened his eyes and saw that she was cradling him in her arms. He could just feel he butterfly caresses of her fingers as they brushed the now greyed hair from his forehead.
He was floating now, as though gentle, familiar hands were guiding him away. The pain was gone. He didn't want to leave Hermione, but he knew that he must, for now.
Ron found his voice for one last time. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Hermione said, as his eyes closed, and he was gone.
Drabble 4
Author: risiepookie
Title: Let Go
Rating: PG-13
Words: 500- on the nose!
Author's Note: *sob* Oh, and thanks to a certain someone for making sure I made some sense.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, y’know?”
A smile. Maybe that was more a grimace. I fight to return the simple smile, not feeling happy in the slightest.
“I was supposed to go first. I had it all planned. You were going to live to be at least a hundred. Easily. Even the grandkids were going to have a hard time keeping up with you.”
A smirk. That was definitely a smirk. At least humour hadn’t died yet.
“It isn’t right to see you like this. I hate it. I want you to get out of this bed and lay in the hammock out back with me. Remember how we used to do that? We used to swing and talk and kiss and sleep all day. It was perfect.”
A tear. I’m dying with you, love. I reach over to wipe the drop away.
“It’s funny the things that are going through my mind right now. I can only imagine what you’re thinking; I wish you could tell me.”
A grunt. I know you’re trying. I close my eyes for a moment, fighting the heaviness in my chest that threatens to suffocate me.
“I was remembering that time I was absolutely desperate for you. Do you remember? You told me to make love to you like it was the last time.”
A whimper. I still get weak in the knees when I think about it, too. I put my hand in hers, lacing our fingers together.
“It was beautiful, wasn’t it? Twenty-five years of marriage and I’d never felt so close to you. It made me fall in love with you all over again.”
Another smile. Neither of us could ever forget that night. Her fingers grip mine tightly and I know it’s all she can give me.
“What about the time we forgot to close the fireplace? I think Rosie and Hugo called first for at least two months after that. Maybe three.”
Another smirk. Those were the days. I trace my thumb over her skin. It is warm and I want to live inside her warmth forever.
“All these years together, all of these memories, and it comes down to this. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I wasn’t supposed to live without you… I never wanted to live without you.”
Another tear. Please don’t leave me. I slide closer and hold her to me.
“Looks like I don’t have much of a choice, but I don’t know how to live without you.”
Another grunt. I can’t do this alone. Tears slip down my face and drip into her hair. She looks at me with shining eyes.
“I know you can’t stay forever.”
Another whimper. She wants to stay with me. I feel her slipping away, but she’s fighting it for my sake.
“If it hurts too much, you can let go. If it’s time, Hermione… you can let go, love. I love you so much.”
A final smile. My heart stopped the moment yours did.
Poll Round 1, Challenge 9: Voting
Below the cuts are the drabbles and the poll for the sixth challenge of rwhg_ldws.
If you wish to submit your scores as a comment, please feel free to do so, the comments to this post are screened.
• Please mark each drabble out of 10
• Please mark all of the drabbles. If you don't, none of your scores will count.
• If you are taking part please do not vote for your own drabble. If you do I shall delete the score you give it from the final tally and making me do more maths than is absolutely necessary is just evil.
• The order of the drabbles is random.
Drabble 1
Author: maybe1ce
Title: That Good Night
Rating: PG
Words: 500
Author's Note (if any): None
"I miss good food." He pushes aside the tray of admittedly dreadful Hospice fare and pulls a face. "When will Harry just kill the bastard? I want to go home!"
"Soon." It had barely registered with Ron when Harry died in his sleep last spring. Sorrow and loss were fleeting, and his mind was soon occupied by excitement over Scabber's new trick.
At first, it had been just lost thoughts, snacks and quills. But, the day we found him on Platform 9 3/4, trying to board the Express, we knew something was very wrong. Now, over ninety years of memories are shuffled like cards in a deck, and every day I must watch my husband deal and play another random hand.
He's pouting now. "OWLs aren't for months, Hermione. Just one game?"
"Of course."
~~~~~~~~~~
So many of the other visitors here aren't even recognised. Husbands are called "Granddad," and daughters called "Sweetheart," their loved ones' minds unable to comprehend time and aging. No matter what story is unfolding in Ron's head, he always calls me by name. He knows me. He always did.
~~~~~~~~~~
Why am I trying to tell him about this? Certainly, I want to be sure he understands, so he won't be hurt or frightened when my visits suddenly stop, but, mostly I want him to hold me and cry with me, as I did with him.
Today isn't a good day, at least not for me. For him, it's apparently delightful, as he's just played an outstanding game of Quidditch.
"'Failing, failing'...a little failure won't kill you, Hermione," he interrupts me crossly, eager to regale me with the details of his heroics on the pitch.
"Ron, you don't...."
"Forget it, Hermione. I'll go find Lavender. She understands. That's probably why she's my girlfriend."
I can't do this, not today. I silently leave the room. The tears come as I lean against the closed door.
"Heart failure, Ron." I whisper in the empty corridor. "My heart is failing." It feels like it already has.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ironically, failure will kill us both. My heart, his kidneys...we're racing together towards a grim finish line. I'm cold tonight, shivering as we hold hands in a rare companionable silence.
"Stay." He smiles shyly. "I promise to be a gentleman, and I'll wake you before my mum comes up."
He has asked before, but tonight, I am so tired...too tired to say no. He is warm next to me beneath the thin quilt, and his soft breathing is a familiar lullaby.
"Hermione." His voice is unusually clear, as though he is waking up from a long nap. "We made a good run of it, didn't we?"
"Yes, a very good run."
"My whole life, everything...you're the best bit."
"I love you, Ron."
"I love you, too." Outside, the snow has started to gather at the sill. He sighs contentedly. "Once we're married, I'll hold you like this every night."
"I can't wait."
Tomorrow, we'll awaken together, soft and warm.
I'm sure of it.
Drabble 2
Author: mugglemama
Title: Being Brave
Rating: PG
Words: 500 exactly (and yes, I manually counted just to be certain)
Author's Note (if any): In Ron's final moments his loved ones find comfort in the fact he seems at peace ... they couldn't be more wrong. *Thanks to those should be thanked*
The first thing Ron noticed was silence. But for the occasional rustle of fabric, there was no sound. He tried to open his eyes to figure out where he was, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He suddenly became aware of someone's presence.
"Hi there."
Harry! What's going on? Where am I?
"Any change?" Harry asked.
Change? What kind of change?
"No, but we didn't expect there would be."
Hermione! You're here!
"We still don't know what kind of spell hit him."
A painful one.
"At least the Healers have made him comfortable, until... um..." Harry's voice sounded hoarse.
Healers? I’m at St. Mungo's! Tell you what; the healers are idiots - every inch of my freaking body hurts!
"He seems peaceful.”
Peaceful? When in the name of Merlin's manky pants have I ever been peaceful?
"It won't be long," Harry continued.
Won't be long for ... wait, what? … No! Absolutely not! That can't be what ... Shit, it hurts. I can't breathe. Hermione? Say something. Do something! Help me!
"Harry, will you leave us alone please?"
Finally!
Harry's voice was suddenly very near Ron’s ear. "Take care, mate."
I don't care what Potter says, I'm not 'heading for the light' or 'catching the train from King's Cross' or whatever he effing calls it. I DO NOT WANT TO DIE, DAMMIT!
"Ron, can you hear me?”
I hear you Luv, I do!
"Open your eyes, Ron Weasley, right now! Open them, damn you!"
I can’t!
Ron didn't need to open his eyes to know Hermione's lips were quivering as she held back tears.
"I won't lie to you, Ron. It's not good. If there were even a shred of hope, I'd tell you to fight ... but there isn't any."
Ron could feel her hand on his chest, moving with his shallow breaths.
Hermione, it hurts too much. Please help me.
“Oh god, how will I live without you, Ron?"
You won't have to. I'm NOT leaving you! We can fix this.
"Rose and Hugo... they’re on their way." Hermione's resolve finally broke and she began sobbing in earnest. "Ron, our babies...”
No! Hermione, you can't let them...
"They'll want to say goodbye.”
Ron recognized the determination in Hermione's voice as her composure returned.
“Listen carefully. Remember when your mum passed, how you made me promise that if the time ever came I wouldn't let them see you like that?"
Ron recalled the sad shell of his mother as she lay dying, suffering and weak and so… not her. He'd sworn he'd do anything in his power to spare his children a similar memory of him.
This can't be how they remember me - I won't allow it!
"Don't be afraid Ron." He felt her tears as she kissed his limp hand. "Not you, you're the bravest man I've ever known."
Mum used to say you can only be brave if you’re scared, and I’m so effing scared right now. Please Hermione, help me be brave. Tell me one more time...
"I love you."
Hermione ... I ….
Drabble 3
Author: belladonna803
Title: Splinched
Rating: PG
Words: 500
Author's Note (if any): *holds Ron close*
Not like this.
Ron couldn't die like this.
Alone, where no one would find him. Fucking Apparition! He'd left Neville at The Leaky, stepped into the alley for a little space, as the place had been packed with patrons, and one, two--
The searing pain that stabbed at his chest had surprised him, and he'd known instantly that he was in trouble. He should have appeared just inside the front garden gate at home. Instead, he had collapsed on wet, spongy ground feeling as though a Hippogriff was sitting on his chest. Nausea punched him in the gut, and he rolled feebly onto his stomach to retch.
Dark blood. Lots of it.
In a hot, blinding panic he searched for his wand. Something had gone unimaginably wrong, and he had to get to Hermione. Shaking fingers groped the sodden ground. Here...somewhere...
Finally his hand curled around the blessed shaft of his wand. With great effort he flipped himself back over and looked around. The treetops grew thickly together, and he stared up into them, the edges of his mind tickling in remembrance. He'd been here before.
Snow. There had been snow, and the cool radiance of a Patronus...a doe.
Ron didn't have time to fathom how he'd landed in the Forest of Dean, of all places, but he held tight to the knowledge, and focused on what mattered-Hermione.
The memory flared brightly in his mind like a freshly lit candle, as powerful now as the moment had been all those years ago. The look on Hermione's face as she'd dropped the Basilisk's yellowed fangs and launched herself into his arms. The slick warmth of the kiss, joyous and frantic as he'd fisted her hair, everything else forgotten.
Despite the eerie, creeping coldness that had begun to seep into his bones, he felt calm now. He knew what to do.
“Expec--” Blood gushed from his mouth in rivulets as he coughed. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“Ex-expecto Patronum.” The faintest silvery shimmer disturbed the air, then was gone. He did his best to clear his throat, and tried again.
“Expecto Patronum.”
The terrier leaped from the tip of his wand with reassuring urgency. Ron managed to catch sight of its whip-like tail as it bounded away into the dense thicket.
So cold.
The minutes seemed like hours, but then--
“Ron!” She sounded scared, and far away, but she was there.
“Ron, what's happened?” He opened his eyes and saw that she was cradling him in her arms. He could just feel he butterfly caresses of her fingers as they brushed the now greyed hair from his forehead.
He was floating now, as though gentle, familiar hands were guiding him away. The pain was gone. He didn't want to leave Hermione, but he knew that he must, for now.
Ron found his voice for one last time. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Hermione said, as his eyes closed, and he was gone.
Drabble 4
Author: risiepookie
Title: Let Go
Rating: PG-13
Words: 500- on the nose!
Author's Note: *sob* Oh, and thanks to a certain someone for making sure I made some sense.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, y’know?”
A smile. Maybe that was more a grimace. I fight to return the simple smile, not feeling happy in the slightest.
“I was supposed to go first. I had it all planned. You were going to live to be at least a hundred. Easily. Even the grandkids were going to have a hard time keeping up with you.”
A smirk. That was definitely a smirk. At least humour hadn’t died yet.
“It isn’t right to see you like this. I hate it. I want you to get out of this bed and lay in the hammock out back with me. Remember how we used to do that? We used to swing and talk and kiss and sleep all day. It was perfect.”
A tear. I’m dying with you, love. I reach over to wipe the drop away.
“It’s funny the things that are going through my mind right now. I can only imagine what you’re thinking; I wish you could tell me.”
A grunt. I know you’re trying. I close my eyes for a moment, fighting the heaviness in my chest that threatens to suffocate me.
“I was remembering that time I was absolutely desperate for you. Do you remember? You told me to make love to you like it was the last time.”
A whimper. I still get weak in the knees when I think about it, too. I put my hand in hers, lacing our fingers together.
“It was beautiful, wasn’t it? Twenty-five years of marriage and I’d never felt so close to you. It made me fall in love with you all over again.”
Another smile. Neither of us could ever forget that night. Her fingers grip mine tightly and I know it’s all she can give me.
“What about the time we forgot to close the fireplace? I think Rosie and Hugo called first for at least two months after that. Maybe three.”
Another smirk. Those were the days. I trace my thumb over her skin. It is warm and I want to live inside her warmth forever.
“All these years together, all of these memories, and it comes down to this. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I wasn’t supposed to live without you… I never wanted to live without you.”
Another tear. Please don’t leave me. I slide closer and hold her to me.
“Looks like I don’t have much of a choice, but I don’t know how to live without you.”
Another grunt. I can’t do this alone. Tears slip down my face and drip into her hair. She looks at me with shining eyes.
“I know you can’t stay forever.”
Another whimper. She wants to stay with me. I feel her slipping away, but she’s fighting it for my sake.
“If it hurts too much, you can let go. If it’s time, Hermione… you can let go, love. I love you so much.”
A final smile. My heart stopped the moment yours did.
Poll Round 1, Challenge 9: Voting