Two Without Me

Fake Protective Potion: Write about someone who had been betrayed by a character they trusted.

It was all going fine, or so I thought.

I had the perfect job, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect friends, the not-so-perfect family... Well, I can't have them all.

But, regardless, I considered my life at that point good. I was happy; joyful, even, at how we all seemed to be coping after the terror that was the Second Wizarding War – considering the hundreds and hundreds of years that have passed since this community was first established, two wars was a record, almost.

The point is that I was happy. I didn't see how Hermione wasn't as happy as I was. I should've known she wouldn't appreciate staying at home doing nothing. My mother was a completely different person to Hermione.

We fought – all couples do – but we made up and forgave each other for it. I knew, at least, that Harry and Ginny were having big problems, so that should've forewarned me. Perhaps I was too oblivious and naive and trusting to suspect any foul play.

I started working later shifts, little by little. Being an auror, even after the war had technically finished, was a hard job. Rogue Death Eaters or wannabe Dark Lords were popping up everywhere and all of us in the department were kept busy by the constant sightings of some mask wearing, black robed witch or wizard.

Disappointingly, most were just false alarms, which annoyed me. I was losing time with my girlfriend for this?

But I went with it. Ultimately, I loved my job.

As my hours were stretched and stretched, naturally, I didn't notice how Hermione was spending more and more time outside with someone. But, on those few days I did arrive home early, I arrived to an empty house – with no note from Hermione – and she was usually absent until the early hours of the morning. As I came in from work at around three or four A.M., she usually remained undetected.

Then the 19th of September rolled around, and I suddenly realised that I hadn't spent a full day [or night] with Hermione since, possibly, early April. It was shocking, but soon I acknowledged that I did have a relentless schedule. To remedy that problem, I decided to set up an extra birthday surprise for her.

But the day passed and night fell. The moon was in the sky somewhere and the sun had long since set, yet Hermione still hadn't returned. Dressing myself hastily, I went over to Harry's – perhaps he would have an inkling as to where my girlfriend was.

Instead, I was greeted by the sight of a mane of brown hair and a head of black hair together in one bed. My thoughts became singular words; I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing.

Even with the blanket covering them, I could see how their bodies were facing each other. How Hermione lay on her left and Harry on his right, and Hermione's right leg was entwined with Harry's leg. He had her pulled close towards him, and her right arm was around him.

It was a sickening sight, and I'm surprised that I didn't go ballistic and curse the two of them. I didn't. Even though it was my best mate – since I was eleven years old – and my girlfriend – who'd been my friend since a couple months after I met Harry.

All I saw was the both of them laughing at how they fooled me, how they betrayed me. But I didn't react harshly, I just dropped them a note and left a small velvet box next to it for Hermione and a ripped picture of the three of us for Harry. They'd understand the meaning.

Have a nice life.

~Ronald Weasley

Written for the HP Potions Competition by Black Boxed.

Words: 618

Posted: 12th April 2013