HPOV

I sighed and smiled as I kissed the forehead of the man in my life, turning I switched off the light and shut the room door. I truly did love him. I made my way down the stairs deep in thought…thinking of the day I had finally got to meet him. He reminded me - and still does - of someone I had been so close to, closer than anyone else had ever been to me. I tried to stop thinking of that…it only causes tears and an overwhelming amount of grief and failure. Sometimes I wish I still had that time turner from third year. I smiled to myself remembering how I fooled Ron and Harry all year.

By this point I had made my way into the kitchen and made some hot chocolate. Call me a child but at 22 I still found it soothing. Walking to the living room I sang to myself. I stopped suddenly.

There was a man standing in front of my fireplace, his tall, broad body outlined by the glow of the fire and the beam of light from outside the window. I reached for my wand, however I was already aware that this man was not an enemy. I flicked on the light with my wand and sent my mug crashing to the ground in utter shock. This could not be. This man had died. He was dead. I seen it. I held him. I watched the life leave his body…but here he was. It couldn't be…"R-Ron?" I asked quietly…too scared that this was true. But his red hair and bright blue eyes told me otherwise.

" 'Mione…I..uh" He looked so uncertain…he was surprised by my reaction. Was I in heaven? Is he an angel? Do angels even exist in the wizarding world…do most wizards even know what an angel is? My mind was racing…I had no idea what to say. "But you died" broke the silence.

"I know. I've been told that everyone thinks that. But, I wasn't actually dead Hermione" he said so sincerely…so simply. As if this was simple I scoffed.

"What do you mean? 'I know'?" I shrieked, "what do you mean - 'you weren't really'?". This was not happening. How could he do this? My mind jumped to the boy sleeping upstairs.

"What was that?" Ron asked, his face screwed up in confusion.

"You're not going to answer me?" This was unbelievable, I deserved an answer. I rolled my eyes as my anger grew, arms crossed against my chest.

"I will…once you tell me what you were thinking of a minute ago" Could I? How would he take it? I was sure it wouldn't be great. But that would be his fault. I thought of that room up the stairs…the boy sleeping peacefully. My whole world was in that room.

"What is that you're thinking?" Ron asked. I could tell he was getting impatient…wait a minute - can he read my mind? It couldn't be. "But it is" he said smoothly.

"Y-y-you can?" I tried to stay calm, "that's impossible"

"Trust me…it's not," he looked down "wish it was."

The silence was strange…uncomfortable. Strange that I feel uncomfortable around Ron. I looked up just in time to see him smile. Get out of my head! He laughed. Of course. Idiot I thought smugly. I looked back up at him, he hadn't seemed to like that so much. Oh how the boy upstairs reminds me of him. Staring at him I saw his eyes change to curiosity, the same look of confusion creeping onto his face. He opened his mouth to speak. I shook my head at him as he said "Tell me what that was"

"No" I was determined.

"Why not?"

I had no reason 'why not.' Why should I tell you? You left me. You hurt me. I saw the pain cross his eyes.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to," the pain in his voice was undeniable - unbearable "they made me."

"They made you? That's your excuse?" then it hit me "They?" Now I was confused. He chuckled, a look crossed his face that I hadn't seen in a while. Obviously something was amusing, but I didn't see it. This situation seemed so serious to me.

"Oh, it is. Its just that look on your face. I was so sure I'd never see it again. I missed it."

He hit a nerve.

"Oh. You missed it did you? You missed it," he still made me as angry as ever "shouldn't've left then. Should you?"

"It wasn't my choice." For the first time, he was angry.

"Yeah you said," I wasn't buying it. You left me. Just me. Me and the boy. An image of my boy crossed my mind. His hair, his eyes.

Ron's expression changed entirely. "Who-What…Who was that?" he looked shocked. Confused .

"I-uh-nothing" I stammered. I don't want you to know...you hurt me.

"Hermione." The tone in his voice was terrifying. He was terrified. He wanted answers. You won't get them.

"Fine" I didn't realise how close he was to me. "When di-" suddenly I was on the ground and Ron was running up the stairs…I pulled myself up and thundered up after him. "Ron! Stop" I shouted. He was on the landing opening the door to the room I had in my mind. I finally reached him and grabbed his arm, trying - and failing to pull him back. Since when was he so strong? But he didn't answer me. I looked back up at him to see that he wasn't paying attention. His face was one of utter shock, betrayal, hurt and confusion. His eyes were fixed on the boy lying in his bed fast asleep. It wasn't possible, Ron thought. Because the boy in front of him looked around four and was surrounded by bright orange walls and blankets, Chudley Cannons posters plastered on the walls. But most importantly, the boy in front of him had flaming red hair and freckles and a nose that looked slightly too big for his face. Ron couldn't move anywhere.