**UPDATE Uploaded a lightly revised edition. There one part that was just bugging me and bugging me every time I read it and I just decided to fix it before my head exploded. And I need to add a disclaimer. I took a line from lord of the rings of what Frodo said to Sam-its actually what inspired this story and I thought it was so fitting, along with a song the Road the Eldorado. so Enjoy. ** I just recently found this! I wrote this a long, long time ago...before the sixth book came out so it is slightly AU. It is the way I saw it...no slash. Just friends. Read and review!

The morning air was crisp and cool. Tiny drops of dew covered each thin, grass blade like a billion clear jewels. I shuffled my feet as I stood by the large oak, hands deep in my coat's pockets, head bowed. I didn't even look up when I heard the footsteps of someone approaching. I knew who it was; I recognized the soft, careful steps and the quiet, serious voice.

"Ron," was all he said. I looked up and I saw him standing a few feet away, hands in pockets. His brilliant green eyes stared at me, unwavering and probing. I've grown familiar with that look over the years but I've never figured it out—what he was thinking or what he was about to say. He looked away. I looked away. We were greeted by mutual silence. It was awkward.

"So," I began hesitantly, breaking the stillness. "You leaving today?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah," Harry strode forward and took his place next to me. "I'm going."

Silence; then:

"Do you know where you're going?" I asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry tilt his head to one side in thought and for a brief moment, he reminded me of the eleven-year-old Harry still young and naïve. Then he shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the other side.

"Don't know," than he grinned. I hadn't seen him smile like that for a long time. I knew what he was thinking.

"Hermione would have your head if she heard you say that, mate."

Harry continued to smile. "Well, good thing she didn't make it."

I looked at him. "You know, she was really torn up about not being able to come say…" My voice trailed off into the morning.

The smile disappeared. "Yeah."

"Yeah," I echoed. Harry heaved a quiet sigh and tilted his head back, staring up at the pastel colors of early morning, gently brushing across the horizon.

My throat began to burn and I blinked rapidly to hold back the tears, "Well, we'll see you again soon, uh?"

Harry didn't respond.

"It's just like during the summer—when you left for a couple months but you always came back."

"Ron," Harry spoke slowly and deliberately, choosing his words carefully, "I don't think I'm coming back this time, mate."

The tears were now pushing hard against the corners of my eyes and I looked down, jaw trembling slightly.

"So…so, this is it then," I swallowed hard and waited for Harry to answer. He didn't. Instead he sagged against the tree; I heard him whisper:

"I'm sorry Ron…I just can't…I have to go, I can't look back."

I suddenly choked out an unwanted sob as I nodded in half understanding, half confusion. "Will you tell others about us?"

Harry himself looked as though he, too, was close to tears—which was scary for I had never known Harry to cry. His pale face grew even paler and his eyes glittered with unshed tears in the sunlight. "How?" he distressed, anxiety thick in his voice. He stood catty corner from me, forehead wrinkled with stress. "How will they understand? How will they understand the freedom we won and the friends we lost?"

"Harry—"

"No," he shook his head; a small tear sprinted down his cheek. "They would never understand…because-because I don't understand…"

Harry buried his face into his hands and wept for the world. The sun, seemingly unable to bear the weight of his sorrow, bowed its golden head behind gray clouds. The angels above laid their heads down and cried into their gray pillow. Rain drops plummeted down like a silver sheet but neither of us moved. In minutes, the rain had soaked us to the bone. Harry slowly raised his head. I couldn't tell if he was still crying for droplets of rain slid down his damp face. A look that I was too familiar with had fallen over his emerald eyes. A look that had crossed over him many times in the past year. It was a look of forlornness hardened with the iciness of uncontrollable determination. A look that came from a child who grew up too fast, conditioned by pain and devastation. It made me scared to know what he was thinking.

"I won't come back," he said in a voice of steel. "There's nothing left for me here. Voldemort destroyed everything."

I closed my eyes briefly at the sound of that wretched name. I was rendered speechless, unable to offer any words of comfort or reassurance. What was I supposed to say? "Your suffering was all for a good cause, Harry"? I wanted to kick myself for my stupidity and worthlessness.

Harry watched me with haunted eyes. His lips parted several times as though he was struggling to say something but could not get the words out. He ran a hand through his dark hair and I saw this as a helpless gesture. Grief was heavy in my chest. Memories tugged at my heart for attention. I pushed them away. I reached out to my suffering friend and touched his shoulder.

"Harry—"

Harry shook me off. "We sat out to save the wizarding world, Ron…" his voice quavered faintly.

I attempted a smile that came out more like a grimace. "And we did…" I finished, than hurriedly tried to correct myself. "Well…basically you did…well…"

"But not for me."

Harry's words struck like hammer blows. I turned away, unable to face the truth and finality. "I hate you!" I inwardly screamed, not sure who I was shouting at. It hit me then—what was really happening. My best friend—my brother was leaving and never coming back. I was losing my buddy. The first person who became my friend because he wanted to. I remember his cluelessness when it came to family and the tentative hope that my family would somehow accept him. The constant curiosity every time he came to my house. His brilliant green eyes always full of life and mischief and courage. I remembered how he loved everything he learned about magic as I unfolded the simple parts of our world to him. I remembered how he used to tilt his head like a playful puppy whenever he was amused or unsure of something. I remember the look of pain and confusion in his eyes when my mother had first hugged him like a son. I had always taken my mother for granted—I admitted that—but when I had seen the tears of loss in my friend's longing eyes, I had realized that I was one of the luckiest boys in the world. I remember after the graveyard when Harry had first raised his head—I remember the shock I had felt as I saw the despair and the questioning and the anger. Such anger. That was the day he first began to slip away. I can still hear him cry as I lay in my bed at night, listening while he relived nightmare after nightmare. I remember the terror after I had shaken him awake; vomiting and fighting for breath as he told me about my wounded father. And the night Sirius had been killed—the only family he ever really had. It was then that I had lost my best friend and in his place was a determined warrior; his once playful eyes were serious and icy with unmoveable destiny. I remember seeing him lying in a crumpled heap on the dirt forest floor, a dark pool of blood expanding out from under him and the distance in the his dying eyes after Voldemort had been finished. He hadn't said anything then, when we had worked over him in an attempt to save him, as though he had expected to die, as though he wanted to die.

It took months before he spoke again.

"I did what I had to do—there's nothing more now," Harry interrupted the flood. I turned to look back at him, tears shamelessly streaking down my face. "I don't belong here, Ron. Not anymore. How can I go back to the way things were when—when so much bad has happened? Some things time can never heal…and…and some wounds just do too deep." He unconsciously touched his lightning bolt scar etched jaggedly into his forehead. "I did what I had to do," he repeated. It sounded as though he was almost begging me.

We stood side by side in the down pour, the pounding rain the only sound. A dull, empty ache began to gnaw at my soul. The dark clouds above seemed to hang just for me. I didn't try to stop the tears now. Who cared? Every nerve, every synapse in my body was screaming at me to do everything within my power to hold Harry back. I battled against it because I was becoming confused and perplexed. Just when I thought I was going to burst, a strange, bitter-sweet peacefulness overtook me.

Let go. A voice whispered within me. And I understood.

If I truly was his best friend, I had to let him go and do whatever he felt in his heart he needed to do. Harry had spent almost his entire life doing things based on the needs of other people. Maybe it was time he started helping himself.

"I'll miss you," I spoke suddenly, rather childishly, and Harry's head snapped upright, as though he too had been swamped by emotions.

"Me too, Ron." To me, looking at him, it seemed as though Harry had the right to break down and cry; instead he put his chin up and gave me a weak but brave smile. "I'll think about you every day. And Hermione. You guys were and are the best friends that anyone could ever ask for in a million years. I doubt there will ever be another match."

My heart twinge with pain and happiness all mixed into one. "Will we ever see you again?" I asked with a hitch in my voice.

Harry studied me for a long moment than look out towards the horizon, water dripping from his hair. "I don't know. Only time can answer that. Fate has brought us this far, mate, and only fate can bring our roads together again."

I laughed roughly. "Ginny would have been proud of your wisdom."

I could tell that the mention of my younger sister hurt him intensely. I hadn't meant for that. "You know…she loved you until her last breath. She would have followed you to the ends of the earth and back."

Harry nodded jerkily, running a hand across his eyes, not that it did any good.

"You know…I gotta go…"

"Harry…" but the words were stuck in my throat. I swallowed hard. "Good—good—"

Harry pulled me into a hug. We stood there for a minute, embracing each other like brothers—friends who will never see each other again.

"Good…good luck." I whispered finally.

"Yeah…you too…" Harry drew back, turned, and began to walk into the foggy mist, trudging like a homeless soldier with nothing left to fight for. Never once did he look back.

I stood there for what seemed like years—lost all sense of time, until a hand touched my shoulder and jolted me back to life.

"I missed him, didn't I?" Remus Lupin stood there, drenched, a look of deep sorrow in his pale blue eyes.

"He's gone," was all I said, trembling with spasms of nausea from grief. Remus looked at me with pity and regret. "He was my best friend and now he's gone…"

I could no longer stand. The pressure was too great. With Remus following me, I slowly sank down to the muddy ground on my knees. My tears turned to sobs—gulping, gut-wrenching sobs that shook my entire body. I had never cried so hard, never felt such anguish. I wasn't just losing my best friend; I was losing a piece of my heart.

"I…didn't…even say good-good bye..." I gasped into Remus' shoulder. "I didn't say good bye…" the sobs continued, only now they were silent sobs—sobs of hopelessness.

And the pain was unbearable.

*Eight Years Later*

I rocked slowly in the wooden chair, staring out to the horizon. It was a beautiful, peaceful evening that I was enjoying. James sat at my feet, pushing around little toy cars that floated and made tiny honking noises, his large brown eyes lost in their imagination.

I closed my eyes, letting the golden rays of the sun warm my voice in its glow. The wonderful smells of Hermione's cooking wafted through the open window and lulled me while hunger growled its protest. It was so quiet…so peaceful…

"Daddy?" James' voice prodded me to crack on eye.

"Hmmmm?"

"Daddy!" James said louder.

"What?" I mumbled, not willing to sit up.

"Who are those people walking towards us?"

I bolted upright, squinting my eyes against the bright sun still peering over the distant mountains. My heart stopped and for a moment, I couldn't breathe, couldn't force a breath in.

In the near distance, Harry raised a hand and waved wildly at me. I could see his grin even from where I sat. He yelled out something I couldn't hear.

"What's wrong, daddy?" James tugged on my pant leg.

"HERMIONE!" I roared, ignoring my son's question. "COME QUICK!"

There was a shattering of dishes. I didn't wait for my wife to come, instead I sprinted down the dirt lane, my heart soaring like an eagle in the endless sky, running like a prisoner set free.

Harry whooped aloud. We met in a wild bear hug. He was slightly taller and had an older look about his face but instead of worry lines on his forehead, crinkles graced the corners of his eyes from the many smiles he had given.

Behind me, I heard Hermione's shriek, "HARRY!"

She was running towards us, arms pumping, brown curls flying in disarray, sobbing hysterically.

Harry nearly fell from the impact of her hug.

"I thought I'd never see you again!" she cried into his shoulder.

Harry chuckled uncomfortably and gently pushed her away. "It's good to see you guys." He grinned at me. "I'd like you to meet my wife…Meagan."

My eyes popped as I looked around Harry to see a woman, young and petite, with curly hair the color of dark chocolate and shocking blue eyes. Behind each of her legs, two identical faces peered at me, each with curly black hair and brilliant, emerald green eyes and a sparse sprinkling of freckles over their noses.

Harry laughed. "Those two are both four—identical twins, well sort of…if you haven't noticed. The one of the right is Lily and the one of the left is Addy…short for Addison."

I crouched down and smiled gently at the shy little girls. "Really? Twins?" I laughed at the absurdity.

"Well…that's where the 'sort of' comes in…you see…Lily and Addy came from the same egg but Remy came from a different egg….you see…."

From behind Addy came a third face, a boy with large green eyes and a shock of black hair. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses balanced precariously on the tip of his nose. He glared at me.

I guffawed at the sky this time. "Triplets? Merlin!"

Meagan giggled and ushered the toddlers to the front.

Still marveling at the little ones, I pulled my own son to the front. "This here is James—he's four as well."

"James?" Harry looked slightly startled.

"Well…" I shrugged uncomfortably. "You see…"

Harry smiled. "Thank you." He said simply.

James grinned at Remy and the two began to run through the tall grass and the little girls quickly gave chase as well.

"They were destined to be friends." Hermione murmured, sharing a knowing smile with Meagan.

"I've heard so much about you and Ron," Meagan spoke with a gentle passion that showed she really wanted to be acquainted with us. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Of course not!" Hermione exclaimed, taking the young woman by the arm.

I knew that they had done this to leave us alone for a moment. Both Harry and I watched our wives leave in calm silence which I broke after a couple minutes.

"Why'd you come back?" I asked than quickly added, "Not that I'm complaining but…I really missed you, mate….but I thought you weren't coming back."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly and put an arm about my shoulder. With a smile playing on his lips, we watched our children play. Then he said:

"Well, we never said goodbye in the first place."