The rain was falling from the sky,

It drowned all dreams upon the ground.

Ron stood in the pouring rain, not moving a muscle, hardly daring to breathe, speak, or even thing. As if maybe if he waited long enough he would wake up and everything would be okay.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

"Ron, Ron hey Ron!" Harry called, "come here!"

"Ugh, why?" Ron groaned, stumbling out of the house.

"Because," Harry replied cryptically.

"Because what?" Ron asked.

"Because," Harry said coming around the hydrangea bushes, "I want you to see this!"

"See what?"

"This!" Harry said gleefully, grabbing ahold of Ron's arm and tugging him around to the side of the house. Ron stopped, staring at the sight before him a large grin spread across his face.

"Wow," he breathed, staring at the brilliant sunset that covered the sky, "it's beautiful!" Harry grinned.

"I knew you'd think so!" he said happily, "that's why I wanted you to see it!" Ron smiled, turning to look at the Harry.

"Yeah, but you know what's even more beautiful?"

"What?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"You," Ron replied, grabbing him and pulling him into a hug.

"Ron!" Harry whined, but nevertheless allowed himself to be pulled into a hug.

"I love you," Ron said, burying his face into Harry's hair.

"I love you more!" Harry said, moving to give Ron a kiss on the lips but stopping just before he got there. Ron, slightly confused by the lack of kissing was caught completely off guard as Harry quickly pulled away.

"Hey, get back here!" Ron called, as Harry slipped away, "I want my kiss!"

"Nuh-uh!" Harry called, skipping away, "only if you can catch me!"

"Oh come here!" Ron said, chasing after Harry who moved quickly away, laughing he skipped down the hill.

"You'll never catch me!" Harry mocked.

"Oh yes I… Harry?" Ron stopped, frozen in time for a moment he stared. Harry was on the ground, sprawled in a heap on the dirt, one would think he'd just tripped but Ron knew something was wrong, something was very wrong.

"Harry!" Ron called, panicked he rushed with every last bit of strength he owned, reaching Harry's body laying across the ground, he fell to his knees beside him.

"Harry, Harry please wake up," Ron begged, reaching forward and stroking Harry's face, "Harry please…"

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

Ron sighed, pulling another petal off the rose he held in his hand. It didn't feel right for it to be so complete while he was so broken. He pulled another petal off, watching is as it fell to the ground, and the rain fell upon it to, soaking it, staining it's beauty. He pulled another petal off, letting it fall, another and another until there was nothing left of the rose but a stem. Ron let that drop to the ground too, not noticing how hard he must have been holding it as he became aware of the small punctures the thorns had formed in his hand, blood slowly dripping from them. It was red, too red, too bright, too… Ron clenched his fist, not wanting to look at the color and focusing instead on the dreary world that surrounded him.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

"I already told you Hermione," Ron said, "I don't know what happened!"

"But surely you must have…"

"No! One minute he was perfectly happy, the next minute he was sprawled across the grass like some abandoned rag doll, and I don't bloody know why!"

"Okay, okay Ron," Hermione said gently, "just calm down."

"Calm down? How the bloody hell am I supposed to calm down?"

"Ron please," Hermione begged, "Harry's going to be okay, we just have to wait, they have all the best healers and there and surely one of them will be able to do something."

Ron huffed, and resumed his pacing in front of the door. Hermione tried a few more times to start a conversation with him but after several unanswered questions she gave up. Ron continued pacing. After what seemed like forever the door finally opened. One of the healers came out, he didn't look happy.

"You must be Mr. Weasley?" the healer said.

"Yes," Ron replied curtly, "how is he?"

The healer shook his head. "We can't find any cause," he said, "the others are still looking but it doesn't look promising. We're trying to see if we can revive him right now but he won't come to."

"What about muggle medicine?" Hermione piped up. The healer shot her a glare.

"Muggle medicine is primitive, and will do nothing," the healer said, before turning back to Ron, "you may go in and see him if you like, I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do tonight." Ron dumbly nodded and the healer left.

"Primitive," Hermione scoffed, "he's probably just a big fat bigot." But Ron wasn't listening to her, he was headed straight for the door. He came in to find two other healers packing up their things. All of them looked unhappy. But Ron ignored them to and headed straight for Harry.

He looked peaceful, too peaceful. It was scary seeing him like this, no smiles, no laughter, even Harry's tears would have been better than this. Just something. Slowly Ron sank down onto the chair beside his bed, tentatively he reached forward taking Harry's warm hand, gripping it tightly.

"Hey Harry," Ron whispered quietly, begging Harry to hear him wherever he may be, "wake up for me, okay Harry? I love you."

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

The others had long since left, except for Hermione. She seemed determined to stay. She had an umbrella but it lay firmly shut by her side, her eyes were glazed over and trained on the ground. Ron couldn't tell if she was crying or not, the rain disguised any tears that she could be shedding, but did it matter the details of her grief? No amount of tears would bring him back, ever. The flowers had been thrown and the ground filled, and after that? Nothing.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

"I told you that healer was a bigot!" Hermione said proudly, beaming at Harry's frail frame. Harry gave her a weak smile before turning to Ron.

"What healer?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"Oh, just some healer at Saint Mungos that said muggle medicine was primitive," Ron replied, giving Harry's hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and reaching for the bottle of pills on the table. They were in Harry's and Ron's house, after the healers consistently preached that there was nothing they could do Hermione insisted that Harry should be transferred to a muggle hospital. Everyone protested, but eventually she got Ron to agree, which was all that really mattered since no one else had any say over Harry except for him. The healers said it was hopeless, Hermione had told him, then there was no harm in giving doctors a go. And now here was Harry, alive. Feeble, but alive.

Ron collected the proper dose and gave it to Harry, who swallowed them dry. Ron just shook his head. He'd nearly been on his deathbed and he still insisted on doing everything the hard way.

He put the pills back and took Harry's hand again.

"Were you scared?" Harry asked quietly.

"Oh you have no idea," Ron replied, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips, not too much because he didn't want to strain him.

"Now, you should get some rest," Ron insisted, stroking Harry's hair, "I know you're feeling better but the doctors said that it's possible for you to have a relapse, even with the medicine." Harry nodded, trusting Ron.

"So, go to sleep?" Harry nodded, curling under the blankets, Ron carefully tucked him in and kissed him on the head, "I'll wake you up when it's time for your next dose," he whispered softly, "I love you."

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

"Ron," Hermione whispered softly, "we should go."

"Not yet," Ron replied. He couldn't leave. Not now, not ever just, not yet…

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

"I picked up Harry's new prescription," Hermione said, walking into the front door, Harry was curled up on the couch, "I ran into the doctor at the hospital actually, he kept going on and on about how miraculous Harry's recovery was, apparently he was in a late stage by the time we actually got him to the hospital and most people don't survive after that."

"Hermione," Ron groaned, "stop it, you're freaking me out."

"Why? Harry made it, didn't he? I'd think I'd help you feel good knowing how well Harry's doing despite statistics," Hermione said.

"I know but," Ron looked down at Harry who was just staring up at him, "it freaks me out just knowing how close I was to loosing him."

"Oh fine," Hermione said, "I won't talk about how utterly and completely close to death he was."

"Hermione!"

"Whoops, sorry! I also brought some milk."

"Good, we're out."

"So Harry, how are you feeling?" Hermione asked.

"Okay," Harry replied.

"Okay's good," Hermione said pleasantly, "I can be okay with okay."

"You need anything?" Ron asked.

"No, just tired," Harry replied.

"Then go to sleep," Ron said. Harry just shook his head.

"Not yet," he whispered.

"So Harry," Hermione asked, "how do you feel about how close to death you were?"

"Hermione!" Ron groaned.

"I was talking to him, no you," Hermione replied.

Harry just shrugged.

"I dunno," he said quietly.

"But are you happy you decided not to die? Surprised?"

Ron was going to kill that girl.

Harry smiled softly, "I never said goodbye."

"Huh?"

"I couldn't die because I never got the chance to say goodbye," Harry repeated.

"And don't you ever think of saying it," Ron said, pulling Harry into his arms, "promise?" Harry smiled, but said nothing.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

Ron lay curled up on the grass, the rain had stopped but the clouds still remained, coating everything in a layer of gray. He probably looked weird, but he didn't care. He was wet, but he didn't care about that either. Mud was getting everywhere, but that didn't matter. To be honest, nothing mattered anymore.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

Ron sat out on the patio, he'd pulled up an old chair and sat staring at the sunset. It was brilliant, stretching across the sky in beams of multi colored light. Harry had long since fallen asleep in Ron's arms, curled up tightly against him with a blanket wrapped around him. It had been nearly three months since that day, and Harry had improved considerably. He was still weak, and looked like he might faint at every turn. Ron figured Hermione would probably give him a lecture for even taking him outside, but Ron wanted to share this sunset with Harry. It was beautiful, and the only thing more beautiful that it was Harry. Despite his tired eyes and gaunt frame, nothing could compare to him. Ron sighed, rubbing Harry's back. He should probably take Harry inside, just one more minute he decided.

"Ron?" Harry's hoarse voice grumbled from against Ron's chest.

"Did I wake you up?" Ron asked, worried.

"No, I just…" Harry paused.

"You just what?"

"You know I love you, right?" Harry said.

"Yes," Ron replied, "and I love you too."

"Good," Harry said, "I just wanted to make sure you knew." Ron smiled and hugged Harry tighter against him.

"Go to sleep now Harry," Ron said, "you need to rest."

"I'm scared, Ron," Harry said quietly.

"Scared of what?"

"That I'll get too much rest."

"You'll never get too much rest," Ron insisted.

"No I mean… never mind."

"It's okay Harry, tell me, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing," Harry said. Ron sighed, he'd weasel it out of Harry in the morning.

"Ron?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Goodbye," he whispered softly. At least that's what Ron thought he heard, but he rapidly passed it off as him having misheard, Harry must have just said goodnight, right?

"Goodnight Harry," Ron whispered softly. Yes, that was it, Harry had said goodnight. Gently Ron picked Harry up and carried him back into the house, tucking him into the bed. Making sure he was nice and warm. He gently touched Harry's face, and kissed him softly on the lips before turning and heading back outside to the patio, he started packing up the chair but stopped, deciding to watch the sunset for a moment longer. The weather was warm, summer was coming. Ron sighed and sat back down in the chair. Watching the sunset, sad that Harry couldn't be with him to see it but promising himself that there would be many more to come. He sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He was tired, so tired, he'd go back in in a minute, he just wanted to rest his eyes for a moment, just a little bit.

Ron woke up to the sunlight and Hermione gently shaking him.

"Ron, Ron please wake up?" Hermione begged.

"Hermione?" Ron groaned, opening his eyes, "what is it?"

"Ron…" Hermione's voice quavered, "Ron it's…" a tear slipped down Hermione's cheek, "Ron it's Harry." Ron bolted out of his chair and was in the house in an instant.

No, no no no no no no no no no no NO! Ron burst into their room, Harry was right where Ron had left him, he looked peaceful, so, so peaceful. He was sleeping, just sleeping.

"Harry?" Ron gently said, clasping Harry's hand, it was still warm, but the warmth was fading, slipping away.

"Harry?" Ron said again, shaking Harry. Harry didn't respond.

"Harry? Harry come on Harry, wake up, it's morning now, you've got to take your medicine, I'll get started on breakfast, okay? Wake up Harry, you've got to take your medicine."

"Ron?" Hermione called quietly, "Ron it's too late, he's…"

"NO HE'S NOT!" Ron shouted, "He's not, he's not, he's not, Harry, Harry please just wake up, don't leave me here, don't you dare fucking leave me!"

"Ron, Harry's gone," Hermione said, placing her hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron violently shook it off.

"No he's not gone, he's not, he can't be, he's just tired, he'll wake up in a minute, he will, I know, he was always slow at waking up, he'll wake up, he's not gone, he's not, he can't be, he just… he can't…"

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

Ron stood silently on the patio, staring blankly at the sunset. There was a time when he would have thought it was beautiful, but it wasn't. It was hideous, disgusting, cruel in its mockery. How could such beauty exist in a world where Harry didn't? He hated sunsets. Hated them with every fiber of his being. Crossing his arms he turned and stormed inside. Fucking sunsets. Just continuing on when Harry didn't, laughing at him, continuing on regardless of who died and who lived and who was left behind barely alive when their life, their light, and their everything was ripped from them. All those people who would never get to see another sunset, and yet the sun kept setting.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

The funeral had ben a silent affair. It rained the whole time. Most of the people just pretended to care, to feel sorry. But no one really did. False tears flowed down their faces and masks of pain hid their true forms. No one understood. No one, it was just Ron. And now even Ron was alone, lost without Harry, the only reminder of the most beautiful, the most amazing, and the most wonderful man that had ever existed was nothing but a cold stone tombstone, stark carvings on it's smooth surface spelling out Harry's name. And Ron hated every letter, because nothing, nothing could ever properly represent Harry, no stone could show the world his joy, his beauty, no letters could give justice to the way the world lit up every time he smiled, or how Ron felt like forever was real and that it was theirs every time they kissed. But Harry was gone, only this stone remained. And only that stone would ever remain, throughout the ages Harry would be forgotten and only that stone would remind the world that he once existed, but it meant nothing. Because to them, it would just be a stone with a name on it.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

It had been nearly a year and the days still went by, but just barely. Slowly Ron was moving on. He's started working again, and some days he even chanced a smile. But those days were few and far between. Other days he would just sit at home and stare at the wall, or go out and watch the sunset, his punishment for living when Harry didn't. And some days he still set an extra place at the table.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

AN: Just for the record, I bawled while writing this. So for those of you who hate character death and are screaming bloody murder, the pitchforks are in the shed, I'll get the matches for the torches.