Hey everyone! I was listening to one of my favorite songs today, when an idea for a story came to my mind. It wouldn't go away, and my playlist was hardly helping me forget about it, in fact, it was plotting with the thought against me so I figured I might as well write it. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the songs or characters that will be used in this fanfiction.

Summary: After the war, Ron goes away, trying to escape the constant pain that's been following him since Fred's death. Three years later, no one knows where he is, or what he's doing, but he wasn't planning on going back home anytime soon…until he receives a letter from Harry—a letter that will change everything. Can two soul mates that have been parted find their way back to each other? Or will distance and time be stronger than love?

Soundtrack: It's Not Over – Chris Daughtry.

Alternates: You Are Mine – MuteMath, Closer – Kings of Leon

Ron,

I know you said you didn't want me to write. But I think it necessary to make an exception—one that perhaps even you will condone. You might have heard what I'm about to tell you by now, but if you haven't, I want you to hear it from me. Ron—Hermione is getting married. I assume you know she's been dating Krum for awhile…and it seemed bound to happen. See…the reason I'm writing is not only to fill you in, but to ask you to come. I reckon it would mean a lot to Hermione and to us too—Me, Ginny, your parents…it's been so long since any of us have seen you. I don't know the wedding date yet, but I felt it best to let you know a little ahead of time…whether to prepare yourself, or to decide if you're coming at all. I'm not sure this letter will get to your hands, since I don't really know where you are, but I hope it will. Take care, mate, and please think about it,

Harry

Ron Weasley finished the letter and blinked once. The parchment's yellowish surface was starting to hurt his eyes from staring at it so much, but he couldn't help himself. He sat on his ramshackle wooden chair for what felt like hours, although they may as well have been just seconds for all he knew or cared. The owl that had delivered the letter, which Ron didn't recognize, was still on his table, looking at him with wide, orange eyes. He looked away from it; he felt as though the owl was watching him in disapproval.

A thousand thoughts went rushing through his mind, so fast and so blurred he felt the beginnings of a headache. Hermione was getting married? It couldn't possibly be true—sure, he'd known she was dating Krum (the git), but marriage? She wouldn't do that, not the Hermione he knew. Or would she?, a panicked voice whispered in the back of his head. Ron got up and started pacing anxiously around the almost-empty room. He really had no reason to be upset—he'd left, and she was free to do whatever she wanted…to be with whomever she wanted. Still… "I now find the difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, and certainty itself", he thought. Where had he read that? One of Hermione's books, probably. He'd often found himself going through the old books she'd lent him—even the muggle ones. Anything to remember her. He shook the thought away. He had no reason to expect anything else, but if he was honest with himself, hadn't he thought, out of arrogance, or perhaps out of hope, that Hermione would still be waiting for him? That she'd remain loyal, comforting and faithful as always?

He had been so stupid…of course she wouldn't wait for him—had he waited for her? Had he faced his problems, his grief, so they could be together? Had he even thought of anyone but himself before running away like the coward he was? No; she was right to get on with her life…to forget about him, about everything. That was what he'd wanted in the first place…the reason he'd left at all—right? Wrong, I left because I'm a selfish git, that's why. He sunk into his chair again, trying to ignore the lump in his throat and the burning tears that now came to his eyes. He felt himself on the brink of being engulfed in hopelessness and despair. Ron shook his head and pulled himself together. He wasn't going to whine about it. No, that wasn't him. He wasn't going to run away again; not this time.

On one hand, Hermione had made her choice, and he couldn't take that away from her…nor could he stand in the way of her happiness. But on the other hand…well, there was simply no way in hell he was going to let Viktor Bloody Krum get his way again, and her happiness couldn't possibly be next to that arrogant jerk. Hermione was his, whether he liked it or not…and by Merlin's pants, he was going to get her back. Once more, he got up, maybe too fast, for he felt his head spinning. He got across the room in two strides and opened the drawer where he kept quills and ink. He dipped his quill in an old ink-bottle, and started scrawling clumsily on the back of Harry's letter, his handwriting almost illegible for he was writing as fast as his hand would let him.

Harry,

I got your letter. I'm coming home,

Ron

Okay, so about the chapter. It was pretty short because it's only an introduction, so you'll get an idea what the story's all about, the next ones will be longer. If you read my other fanfics, you'll see I'm not a girl of few words. Thanks so much for reading, and please review!