Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Foreword: This stemmed from a plot idea that came to mind when I was rewatching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. I also wanted to try my hand at future Ronald who has become quite mature and grown up.

The Unseen Path

by Romantic Silence

Why is it that I always miss out on the most important moments?

During my time in Hogwarts and adventuring with Harry, that was the single most prevalent question that resided in my head. It was a question that first sprung up at the end of First Year after the incident with the Philosopher's Stone. When Hermione and I first visited the Hospital Wing to see Harry shortly after that hectic night, my two best friends shared a knowing smile. For the life of me, my twelve year old mind was unable to comprehend what those smiles meant. The seed of jealousy was planted that day when Hermione hovered over Harry, grasping his hand comfortingly as I stood in the foreground wondering what had happened. It was watching this scene that prompted the aforementioned question, Why is it that I always miss out on the most important moments? I had ignored my own accomplishments that night, my close friendship with Harry that I formed that year, and instead, focused on the single event that somehow changed the entire dynamic of Harry's and Hermione's relationship. Unconsciously, I somehow understood then that for that one fleeting exchange, they were in a world I could not reach.

That was when it all began really. As year after year went by and we had our adventures, that incorrigible and malicious feelings of burning resentment grew and blinded me. My emotional immaturity stemming from a coddled childhood led me on a path that had, on many occasions, nearly lost me the two greatest friendships one could ever hope for. Rationally, I saw Harry as the brother who never judged me. The brother who, unlike my own brothers, did not look at me to accomplish something for myself. He allowed me to blossom into my own person, relying on me to be someone I am and not what I can be. I knew I often let him down because of my own idiotic pride, but he forgave me nevertheless. Hermione, on the other hand, challenged me. Even when I made her cry or hurt her feelings, she would always return and forgive me. That response confused my young mind which later led me to become attracted to her and grow familial feelings for her. I love Hermione, but I had foolishly believed that it was romantic.

However, for all my failures and discrepancies, Harry and Hermione were willing to stand by me where others would have left me to rot. I could never ask for two best friends. But that certain realization didn't come to pass until later on when I grew up, when it was too late. I became the man that I am now seven years ago in one single moment. I can recall the scene with vivid detail, as one can never forget the exact time when one became a man. And it took an epiphany that allowed me to finally view reality.

The day was May 2nd, 1998. Seven years ago on that day, the vilest Dark Lord of the ages, Lord Voldemort, was brought down, thus ending the Second Wizarding War. I was eighteen at that time, Hermione and I just excited the Chamber of Secrets where we shared a passionate kiss that led me to believe that Hermione shared my supposed feelings for one another. We rushed to meet Harry and when we did, I could never, to this day, forget the face he had. His eyes did not glow green with fierce determination. Instead, his emerald orbs had been replaced with unrecognizable obsidian, dead like a corpse. When I saw that, my heart raced and my body shivered. Fear overwhelmed me, and I was afraid to approach this unknown individual before me.

"What is it Harry?" I heard Hermione say next to me, she took a step forward, her hand twitching to reach out for Harry. My mind was blank, a swirling vortex of nothingness. I could do nothing but observe what was transpiring, and I knew then that I was witnessing something that I always longed to watch.

I could see Harry, his back slouched yet firm with decisiveness. His gaze was solely on Hermione, not even recognizing that I was there as well. He took a few steps forward Hermione, never averting his eyes. A pained sigh escape his throat as his voice slightly wavered, "There's a reason I can hear them. The Horcruxes. I think I've known for a while." Hermione gasped at his words, but I could not understand. I struggled to wrap my head around the importance of Harry's statement, but time was not on side. The conversation continued, "And I think you have too."

That single sentence alone stopped Hermione. Never before have I ever seen her not move about in some way. Even if she stood still, one could tell the gears in her head constantly turning like a well-oiled machine. But the Hermione that I saw wasn't like that. It was if she had completely been shut down. There was nothing but the vast emptiness currently residing in her typically busy mind. Unknowingly, my face displayed my growing discomfort openly. The tension in the air was palpable and I felt as if I was being choked the more I stayed where I was. But I could not move, terrified what would happen if I slipped away now.

And then, the silence was quelled by the sound of Hermione's strangled voice, "I'll go with you." Then suddenly, she took several steps forward and flung herself around Harry. I saw, from the corner of her face, tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry's arms wrapped around her waist as he stared vacantly forward. I flinched when I saw his empty stare settling on me, but he wasn't looking at me. Even as I stood there in the open, my body clashing with the somber colors of the surroundings, I was invisible to him.

Harry's lips moved, whispering to Hermione words I was unable to hear. He took a step back, his cold mask melting away when a mournful gaze fell on Hermione. Quietly, he turned, and he began walking away. His soft footsteps reverberating in my eardrums. Tentatively, I moved to Hermione's side, noting the forlorn glimpsed directed at Harry's retreating form. In what I thought was a warm gesture, I placed my hand atop her shoulder, "Hermione. It's going to be oka-"

Hermione moved away from me, striding forward in long, winded gaits. She rushed ahead, gaining on Harry the more she sprinted. I could do nothing but gawk after her with widened eyes. And then it dawned on me. The two of them never realized that I had been there watching their short exchange. I was nothing more than an intruder who had the fortune to walk into their world, an anomaly that was left ignored. Tears streamed down my face when my long desired wish to have been in on one of their important moments. The pain of not being acknowledged stung my heart and, at first, I grew angry for having been left with nothing.

But then, I knew that that was how it was meant to be. I would never be someone that would be embraced into the singular road they shared. Their destinies were intertwined with one another and I, a single mortal, was unable to change that. We were not the Golden Trio, a singular group of three, but Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter, three individuals whom were close friends. Why should I compare myself to those two? I had my own individual strengths and merits that those two did not possess. While I foolishly tried to chase after them, I have forgotten that I had my own road to follow.

But as I stood there alone, I wept when I realized that that was going to be the last time I would see my two best friends.

What I witnessed forever changed me. Though while that single event may have played a great impact on my life, it played a larger role for what occurred next. It had caused the reign of Voldemort to be forever over, vanquishing the shadow that overtook the land for decades. However, the Final Battle of Hogwarts itself ended in an anti-climatic manner. It was ironic, reminiscing about it now, that the war was over with such disquiet. One would have expected a glorious final struggle where the castle was laid siege by the forces of Dark as the side of Light valiantly defended the relic of a nearly forgotten age.

Instead, the forces that were within Hogwarts waited nervously for Lord Voldemort and his army. Having passed an ultimatum that they were to turn in Harry or else be slaughtered, the defenders of the castle were willing to fight for their very lives, myself included. But as the time limit came to pass, Voldemort had yet to come. The Death Eaters and Dark Creatures under his disposal could not be seen. At first, many believed it was a ploy to be lulled into a false sense of security. That was the common belief for an hour, at least until I confessed that Harry and Hermione had left to confront Voldemort.

Many of the adults were aghast by the news I presented. Chaos erupted amongst the masses but fortunately, it was the booming voice and Scottish brogue of Professor McGonagall that calmed everyone. With a composed grace, Professor McGonagall proposed to organize a search party to be enter the Forbidden Forest and asked for volunteers. To my great surprise, nearly all of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix raised their hands. But it was I that ensured my position within the group. Despite my mother's protests, she was unable to deter me from wanting to aid my two best friends. The group was finalized; along with myself, Neville had joined, my father and Bill came along, the two of them being premier duelists, and surprisingly, Luna volunteered, citing that she was familiar with the layout of the forest.

As our group set forth from the main gates, we stopped when I spotted a gigantic figure emerging from the Forbidden Forest. With our wands ready, we carefully edged closer to catch a better view of who it was. The unknown person moved closer and it was when he reached the road leading up to the gate that we recognized his statuesque build. It was Hagrid. At first, my heart was filled with joy that a long-time friend had managed to escape the capture of the Death Eaters. But that feeling was soon sapped away when I noticed what he was cradling in his massive arms.

I dropped to my knees as the energy immediately left my body. I lurched forward, vomiting what little I had in my stomach onto the floor. I began quivering violently, unable to rationalized what I saw. I could hardly fathomed what the others' reactions were as my mind shattered to pieces at the reality. I don't know who had helped me up, but I managed to stand on both my legs despite my struggle. I tore away from the group, slowly walking towards Hagrid. Huddling together in his arms as if they were gently sleeping were the lifeless forms of Harry and Hermione, their fingers intertwined with one another leading me to speculate that they clung on to one another in their final moments of life.

"V-v-voldemort be dead...'long with the Death Eaters..." Hagrid mumbled in between sobs, "'Arry and 'Ermione saw to tha'."

It was later on that Hagrid recounted what transpired in the forest. Harry and Hermione had confronted Voldemort, their hands intertwined with one another. After a conversation between Harry and Voldemort, Harry was immediately struck down by the Killing Curse. Amidst the commotion, Hermione had cast what could have been Fiendfyre and incinerated Voldemort's snake and Horcrux, Nagini. Then chaos broke loose when Harry stood back up, having survived the Killing Curse once more. Hagrid admitted that he didn't know what happened next as he had been knocked out by having been hit by too many stray spells, but when he had came to, Voldemort and his Death Eaters along with the Dark Creatures that followed him were on the ground dead. Harry and Hermione was sitting against a tree, holding the other's hand, lifeless and at peace.

Their sacrifice brought peace to the Wizarding World. The proof lay in what was happening now at the present seven years later. I wholeheartedly acknowledge that they helped me become who I am today, giving me an identity I could fall my own. Though emotionally painful it was to witness that somber parade at eighteen, it rid me of the shackles of my youth and innocence. It helped me recognized that what I felt for Hermione at that time was not that of a romantic nature, but the strong feelings of sibling affection. I was able to grow on my own and escape the shadow that was the Golden Trio. Now, I've been married for two years to a woman I love and respect and became father to a beautiful daughter that I can't possibly imagine being without.

But on some nights, I would sit alone atop the roof of my home, gazing at the moon as I basked in its luminescent glow. My thoughts wondered how things could have been if I had somehow stopped Hermione from going to Harry or if I had not understood the reality of our lives when I watched their emotionally charged moment. Most of all, I wondered what things would have been like if my two best friends were still alive today. They could have gotten married and I would play the role of the best man. Our children could have been the same age and we would arrange play dates; Harry and I would make a secret vow to make sure his son and my daughter would end up getting married, thus the two of us could legally be related.

Unfortunately, life can't be spent dwelling on what might have been. I will carry on with my life in the memory of Harry and Hermione. They have allowed me to glimpse at the unseen path, and for that, I shall be forever be thankful.

- From the Journal of Ronald Bilius Weasley

Ron sighed as he finished the transcribing a portion of his personal journal under a separate sheet of parchment. While he could have easily used magic to do so, he found no fun in it. This article was something special to him and it deserved his best. He proofread his work, checking for any misspellings or inconsistencies on his part. Ron had written from the heart, so he had little doubt that there would be a bounty of mistakes. However, he had to laugh at how elegant his writing had become since his days in Hogwarts. Hermione would absolutely have a heart attack if she had so much as read his prose now.

Shaking his head at thoughts, Ron closed his personal journal and went over to the bookcase to store his written tome. As he scanned through the volumes of books that he had gathered, Ron smiled wryly at the titles that he had. From Bookworm to the Brightest Witch of the Age, Just Harry, not Harry Potter, and The Golden Trio were some examples. Then again, the bookcase was reserved for the dozens of books he had personally authored that chronicled the lives of Harry and Hermione. He had made some mentions of himself, but Ron personally made sure that he was not the main focus. Thumbing through the spines, Ron finally found the empty slot of where a book should go and placed the journal within it.

Ron wondered if he had made the right choice of penning various books about his two best friends. There were bound to be others who would criticize him for utilizing his position to milk their name for money. However, that was not how Ron had seen it. He had seen how other so-called 'writers' would use the name of the deceased for their own gains. He recalled back after Sixth Year of Dumbledore's biography and how it had made horrible remarks about the former headmaster. Ron would not allow others to sully Harry and Hermione's good name with false information. That was why he had decided to undertake the task himself. Although, if he had been told at fourteen that being a famous writer was what he was going to be in the future, Ron would had no doubt that he would have found the entire idea "barking mad" as his adolescent self would have put it.

The last member of the Golden Trio hobbled over to his desk, yawning loudly as he felt fatigue finally overcoming him after hours of nonstop writing. However, there was something amiss. Atop of the copied work that he had been transcribing was none other than a letter. Eyeing it suspiciously, Ron picked up the envelope and immediately felt a bulge inside it. Ron peeled off the wax seal and turned the envelope upside down. Suddenly, a golden snitch promptly fell out and collided with his desk. He carefully examined the snitch, pulling out his wand to see if there were any magical properties on it that were potentially harmful. After finding nothing, Ron picked up the snitch, fondly remembering the first snitch Harry captured as a Seeker. Ron reached into the envelope to see if there was anything else inside, he felt the edges of a scrap of paper within and slowly pulled it out.

There was only a single message on the paper. Confused, Ron quietly muttered, "I Open at the Close...?"

Instantly, Ron felt a sharp pull on his navel. The entire room began to suddenly spin out of control. Ron recognized the familiarity of the effect; it was a portkey! As his head felt lightheaded from the constant spin, he soon found himself suddenly stopping. Fortunately, experience had instinctively allowed him to stand on his feet, allowing him to land properly rather than fall flat on his arse. Instinctively he brandished his wand in alert, taking note of his surroundings. The sun blinded him with its rays- here it was day, and in front of him was a quaint, two story house in the middle of the country.

"Oh, he got here quick!" A voice called out from behind him.

"I did do the proper spellwork. Of course he would arrive swiftly and accurately might I add." A feminine voice added.

Ron immediately spun around to glimpse at his supposed captors. His eyes widened as he recognized with intimate familiarity at who exactly the two of them were. In a hoarse, breathless voice, Ron gasped out,

"Harry? Hermione?"

Afterword: I decided to end it right there because I thought it was rather fitting. I'm not sure if I'll ever create a continuation or a companion piece to this. If anyone would like to try their hand at writing a fitting conclusion or a full-blown story for this story, feel free to if you wish. As long as I get due credit, I don't mind at all.