Hey guys haven't had a whole lot of time to update Heartbreakingly Beautiful (I'm being super picky with it and wish to take my time.) But alas, it is snowy and cold here I am off for the day, so I figured a steamy one shot Hr/H is exactly what was needed. I OWN NOTHING! *Sobs Dramatically and bows to QUEEN J.K.*

Cheers,

M. x

He thought he would be more shook up than he actually was. Where Harry thought darkness would reign, surprisingly a sort of calm descended upon him, even with the locket clutched tightly in his shaking hand.

"RON!" Hermione's voice broke on the syllable and Harry closed his eyes briefly. Her pain affected him more than anything. It was like demons driving sharp, piercing needles dipped in hot oil through his very soul. He felt his heart lurch as he stared at the space that they had been just moments before.

"I get it. It's him. It's always been him, hasn't it? Hasn't it!?"

Ron's parting words had set his brain on fire. Had it always been him? A part of him knew, a small part that seemed to be growing in leaps and bounds by the second, knew that it had always been her. His best friend. His rock. The one who had been by his side through it all, she never waivered and he never questioned her loyalty.

But now…he looked down to the locket and threw it on Ron's on deserted bunk before heading out through the tent and into the pouring rain.

He found her at the edge of her own magical enchantments. Just standing, staring our through the dark forest, tears silently streaming down her face.

She hadn't abandoned him. Harry gave a weary sigh as he approached her cautiously. The last thing he wanted was for her to run.

Slowly, he slid up beside her and softly folded her hand into his. Even in the horrendously cold conditions, she was warm. Hermione turned slowly to gaze into his eyes, and even though tears kept on falling, for Harry, she smiled.

"I guess it was only a matter of time," She whispered softly, turning back to the forest. "I shouldn't be surprised, it's Ron, that's what he does. That's what he's always done." Her voice was sharp with bitterness. Harry thought back to the Tri Wizard Tournament, he thought back to Krum and Lavender, all the petty fighting and illogical reasoning of Ron. But this…Harry nodded numbly in agreement.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I really am. I know I lost it back there but-" She turned back to him, leaning in for him to hold her. She felt wonderfully soft, Harry ran his hands down the back of her slicked hair and soaked shirt; he breathed her in.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." She stroked his back soothingly as he relaxed into her touch. "He made a choice. He left."

"Hermione-" His voice was strangled. "Promise. Promise you won't-"

As if she had read his mind. "Never, Harry."

They might have stayed like that for hours, Harry wasn't sure, he had lost track of time the second her warm body had fused into his. They somehow found themselves back in the tent; shivering Harry stripped off his clothes down to his boxers and crawled quickly into bed. Hermione doused the lights as Harry burrowed deeper into the scratchy blankets. He listened for her movements as she murmured a couple of spells. He caught his breath when he distinctly heard her peeling the layers of sopping wet clothing from her damp skin.

Her weight settled beside him on the bed and Harry lost all sense of reality.

"Her-" She cut him off by placing a finger against his lips.

"Please, can I just…stay with you tonight? Just tonight. I- I don't want to be alone…" She whispered brokenly through the dark. Slowly, as though she were made of glass, Harry reached out through the shadows and slowly lowered her into the bed beside him. He closed his eyes tightly in excruciating pain as she snuggled into him, wrapping her limbs around his body and falling almost instantly asleep. Her even breathing tickled across his neck as her hand lay gracefully on his chest, her nails scratching him ever so lightly. Harry's body ached with the need to fill her, completely in mind, body and soul.

Ron's sneering face, eyes laden green with jealously swam before him through the dark. Harry pulled his arms tighter around Hermione and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

5 Months Later...

Voldemort was dead. Screaming and cheering rang deafeningly in Harry's ears giving them cause to bleed. It was over. And hoards of people surrounded him.

The Chosen One! The Conqueror of Death!

They all screamed and cried spinning him around and around until all Harry could see was swirls of color. But only one thing was clear in his mind. Hermione.

Harry pushed through the crowd not seeing anything as he raced away whipping out the Marauder's Map. He found her immediately, in an empty classroom. She was pacing. He set off at a sprint.

Harry tore down the corridor, running on pure adrenaline. He reached the last door on the left of the third floor and threw it open with a resounding crash. Hermione jumped a mile in the air and turning swiftly, her wand trained on his heart. She was covered in mud and bruises. Her eyes said it all; wild, as if seeing, a ghost.

"I-I…you…dead…" She breathed. Harry stared at her hard before quickly closing the distance between them in two steps. She was in his arms. She sobbed openly her entire body shaking.

"It's over. It's over, Hermione. He's gone." She continued to cry and tried to speak but nothing came out. Her legs gave out and they both sank down to the floor. They stayed like that, holding each other for centuries as Hermione finally calmed down.

Harry pulled back to look into her stunningly beautiful eyes. There was so much sorrow, so much pain. He wanted to rip his heart out and give it to her, if that's what it would take for her to be okay. She stared back, as if seeing him properly for the first time. In wonder, Harry slowly brought his hand up to her face and stroked her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes as a few more tears slipped out.

"Oh Harry…"

Harry took a deep breath, without thinking, the next words that left his mouth came straight from his heart, with no stopping at his head for a second evaluation.

"I love you. I love you Hermione Granger. You are everything. To me."

She shuttered, her eyes closing even tighter as she tried to take a deep breath. The war was finally over, he was no longer a marked man, now was their chance. Now he could take care of her, they could move on and heal…together. He was sure after everything they had been through it was what she wanted as well.

"Harry-" She bit her lip. Harry's gaze flickered down to her lips in painful need.

"Say it." He demanded roughly, her eyes shot open in surprise. "Tell me. Dammit Hermione. I need you."

She looked positively tortured. Her shaking hand lifted to his lips and traced them in awe. She leaned in, a breath away from him, wetting her lips carefully, her eyes snapped from his mouth to his eyes in realization.

"Harry- I need…" The door slammed open and with a jolt, Hermione threw herself out of Harry's arms. His furious eyes jerked quickly to the door. Ron Weasley. His glare was like a blast of Fiendfyre throughout the room.

"Was I interrupting something?" He spat savagely, his accusatory glare shifting from Harry to Hermione who was getting unsteadily to her feet. He was covered in blood and limped slightly has he made his way into the room, his arm was mangled, covered in dirt and oozing blood He was about 30 seconds away from collapsing.

Hermione took one look at his appearance and rushed to his side to help.

"Ron! What happened?" She asked nervously as she helped him into a chair.

His sneering features landed on Harry's face; who was now standing a few feet back, watching them with guarded eyes.

"Let's start with what didn't happen. Surely that would be a much shorter list." He snapped, as he let out a groan of pain and sunk into the chair. Hermione raised her eyes at his attitude but said nothing. She waited patiently at his side while Harry's fists clenched and unclenched in agitation.

"My sister, " Ron emphasized. "Has been looking everywhere for you." Harry's stomach twisted in guilt. Ginny. Of course, now that Tom Riddle was dead, she expected him to make good on all the promises her had given her over a year ago. But so much had changed since then. He'd have to let her down easy. She was mature and wise beyond her years. She would definitely understand. Ron on the other hand… It was now or never.

"I'm not getting back with Ginny, Ron." Harry avoided Hermione's eyes and maintained contact with his oldest friend. Ron's scowl deepened.

"Bloody hell." He whispered quietly. "How could you? How could you do that to her? To me!"

"I don't see how it has anything to do with y-"

"It has everything to do with me!" He exploded. A nasty silence followed. Hermione, tried to reach out and heal a couple of his cuts, but he swatted her wand away and got to his feet, swaying slightly. Hermione reached out to grab him but he pushed her away. Harry felt his blood boil. But Hermione was unperturbed.

"Ron! It's Harry's choice; don't be like that-" She admonished. Ron tossed her a bitter smile.

"You bastard." He hissed unforgivingly at Harry. "You don't think I know what this is exactly about?" He flung his mangled arm towards Hermione. Harry's eyes narrowed but he didn't deny it. That seemed to be all the confirmation Ron needed. He reached into his pocket quickly and Harry drew his wand ready for battle. Ron frozen then chuckled nastily.

"I already know I don't stand a chance against The Boy Who Lived." Furious red stains graced his cheeks. "That's what you said Hermione, I was never good enough. How could I compete?" He was nearly out of his mind with fury. Hermione gaped in astonishment.

"I never said-"

"Yes!" He slammed his fists down on the table, leaving blood smears everywhere. "Yes, the night you came out of the locket. You said, you said-"

"Ron!" Harry had found his voice again. "Ron that was Voldemor-"

"Don't say his fucking name!" A deathly silence permeated the air. Whatever Ron had pulled out of his pocket was clenched tightly in his fist. Harry and him stood staring at one another for ages, months and months of tension unfurling over their quaking bodies. Hermione was blinded with tears as she looked back and forth between them. They were all so broken.

"Here." He tossed a small box to Hermione who caught it with a look of appalling realization on her face. Ron looked one last time into her anguished face and allowed himself a small smile. He had gotten to her.

"Rot in hell." Were the last words Ron Weasley spoke to Harry before slamming the door and leaving him and Hermione in a deafening silence.

6 Months Later...

Ron was drunk again. His roaring laugh grated sorely on Harry's eardrums as he threw back his fifth glass of Firewhiskey. A ha, Harry realized, he was drunk as well. As jubilant and happy as Ron was, Harry was equally as pissed off and depressed. His eyes narrowed as he watched his "best" mate make an absolute fool out of himself at his own engagement party. He posed for each flash of the camera, smiling, shaking hands and stumbling all over the place.

Harry's eyes scanned the room; Hermione had made a quick disappearance about 30 minutes ago and had yet to see her enter the tent again. What a spectacle he thought to himself, as Rita Skeeter, smirked at him from across the room, playing with the straw of her fruity cocktail. He raised his eyebrow sardonically at her, before turning away. He knew all of the people here, but was still questioning why most of them were invited. Hermione hated Rita Skeeter and her press gang of paparazzi, why did it seem that everyone that was anyone was invited to a gathering that should have been selective and intimate? Yes, Ron had let all the fame and money go to his head, it was clear he was only becoming more and more self-obsessed.

Or maybe Harry was just sulking. A couple of Fleur's cousins were making eyes at him, and he briefly thought about taking one of them up on a quick shag up against the side of The Burrow... he was distracted by Ginny Weasley, who waved at him from an empty table; Harry put his glass down, picked up a full one and headed over to her.

"Hi." She smiled carefully as he took the seat across from her. Harry smiled in return. "You okay?"

They were on friendly terms, like Harry predicted, Ginny was uncomfortably understanding; always blunt and to the point. When he had broken the news to her six months ago, right after the final battle, she had nodded sagely and told him she already knew that he was going to say that. She left two weeks later for Quidditch training, and this was the first time he had seen her since.

"Yeah." He breathed, looking around for her. He threw back his drink.

"Yeah." Ginny mimicked sarcastically. "Yeah, I can totally tell."

"What?"

"Harry, you are the farthest thing from okay. Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and they sat in silence staring out at the rest of the guests.

"My brother is making a right fool of himself this evening, not that it differs from any other evening."

"Ginny-" He started to defend Ron, for what reason he had no idea, maybe it was the alcohol talking.

"Oh, please" She replied scathingly. "You're just as bad as he is." That got Harry's attention and he puffed up ready to name a thousand reasons of exactly why he and Ron were nothing alike. "Harry, look. You're in love with her, I get it. I think I've always understood it, accepted it. But Ron, he's…difficult."

Harry snorted into his whiskey.

"He cares about you and Hermione so much. You two are his life. I do hope you realize that. But this display, this utter mockery of a future marriage to come…don't you think it's a bit much?"

Harry silently agreed. Ron was flirting unabashed with Luna Lovegood in a darkened corner as Molly Weasely looked on furiously. Hermione was still nowhere to be seen.

"Then why did she do it?!" He burst out. "Why in the name of Merlin did she fucking say yes?" Ginny eyed him for several moments before answering.

"To keep the peace, obviously. Harry, you know her better than anyone. Why does Hermione do anything? Logic. Logically, she knew that if she accepted Ron, she would still have your friendship and Ron would still be your best mate. If she chose you…" Ginny let the rest of her sentence linger off into nothing but unspoken truths.

"All would be lost." He muttered.

"Exactly." Ginny agreed, taking a sip of her champagne.

"Well what if I don't care anymore?" He argued.

"Bit selfish of you really." His glassy eyes could hardly focus on Ginny as he took in her words. "Me? Selfish?" He scoffed in disbelief.

"She's unhappy Harry, that much is clear. I don't know why you are still sitting here talking to me." She turned her gaze to Ron, who was now spinning Lavender Brown across the dance floor. George, it looked like, had purposely spilled his drink right beneath Lavender's stripper heels and the two of them tumbled to the floor in a tangled mess of limbs. Ginny's lip curled in disgust and Harry looked away, furious. Ron needed a bit of help getting back up, his left arm still mangled slightly since the war.

"He's an utter mess. It's disgusting that he keeps using Fred's death as an excuse for his outlandish behavior." The thought of such a disgrace made Harry's jaw clench. Ginny continued on tossing her gleaming hair over her shoulder, flippantly. "Are you really not going to do anything about it, Harry Potter? How could you subject Hermione to this for the rest of her life?"

Harry was suddenly furious. "I didn't subject her to anything that she didn't want for herself, Ginny. I told her how I felt-" They watched as Ron pathetically limped off the dance floor to nurse his wounds.

"He's been like this ever since the battle. Harry, he's not getting any better and Hermione isn't helping him any by sticking around and trying to make it all rainbows and sunshine. The whole family knows she's only with him out of guilt." There was that harsh honesty again. Ginny shook her head thoughtfully. "He'll never be whole again."

8 Months Later...

Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the beginning of the end. Harry's nerves were palpable, he could feel the agonizing anxiety tear through this limbs. He would gladly face Voldemort again instead of this…hellish alternative.

Tomorrow, he, Harry James Potter would stand next to his best mate and watch him marry the love of his life. His life. Ron's life. Their life. The collective life of the three of them. Harry's mind flashed memory over memory of their now 8 years together. Where had he gone wrong? Had he spoken too soon? Too late? Had there been some telling signs over the years that he had missed?

They were so young, dealing with situations that fully-grown wizards and witches couldn't possible imagine or comprehend. So how, how could the Savior of The Wizarding World fuck up so badly when it came to the one thing that he wanted for himself? The one person, who hadn't died, who he hadn't lost in his 18 years on this planet, the one person…the missing part of his soul! How could she just walk away?

Walk away and marry someone else. Someone lesser. Harry jumped to his feet at that thought, feeling sick.

Walk away, his conscience pleaded to himself. Walk away, she isn't yours.

You gave her your heart and she threw it in your face. She told you, hissed a lurking demon buried deep within his mind, she said she would never leave, never abandon you.

Harry's frantic pacing ceased as he reached for a bottle of Ogden's. He kept quite the supply in the study of Grimmuald Place for occasions just like this. The House of Black was gloomier and more desolate than ever. A few candle stubs were the only light to throw Harry's harsh profile into relief. They scattered like spiders across the blackened high ceilings. He uncorked the bottle and took a deep swig. His five o lock shadow seemed to be hitting 8pm any minute now and his hair was as untamable as the North Sea. He hissed at the burn in his throat, and the voice of his conscience spoke once more.

She hasn't abandoned you. She's doing the right thing, the thing you weren't strong enough to do.

His muscles tensed and he rolled his shoulders trying to force the voice out of his mind. The demon had a rebuttal.

You're better than him, he doesn't deserve her, how could you let him bully you into submission? You're The Chosen One.

Harry approached a mirror that adorned the top of the massively marble fireplace it gleamed eerily as the full moon broke through a patch of clouds. Harry's eyes were bloodshot from insomnia and booze. Torture didn't even being to describe the depth of pain that was coursing through him.

What are you going to do!? Yelled his conscience. You're going to ruin it for them? You're going to barge into their wedding and yell out, no pick me!?

Of course not you stupid fool! Cackled the demon. He's not all bluster and bravery, did you forget? He was almost a Slytherin…

"Stop." Harry told himself firmly. "Stop. Stop right now."

He is your best friend. She made her choice, let her go. Let The Golden Trio be what it is. Begged his conscience.

And what's that? Seethed the demon. A fucking façade? A sham of a friendship? Where you, the man who deserves happiness, more than that pathetic git, you let him take Hermione from you!? What kind of friendship is that? You reward his stupidity and fuck ups with the ultimate prize? My aren't you so brave. It taunted.

Harry let out a strangled cry, grasping his head in torment.

Don't do it! Don't do it! Are you prepared for the consequences? I know what you are thinking. You cannot possibly. You can't.

He can, he can and he will, if he has any brains. That's the Slytherin way; we always get what we want.

"NO!" Harry screamed and he brought his fists up, smashing the mirror into a million pieces. The voices went silent. "No." Harry breathed firmly and fell back onto the couch, exhausted.

He awoke hours later to a warm palm sweeping his hair away from his face. His eyes shot open as he simultaneously grasped the wrist that belonged to the person intruding on his solitude.

Fearful brown eyes looked down at him, distraught and intense. They gleamed with secrets in the candlelight.

"Harry." She breathed quietly. He stared at her, gripping her wrist still tighter. Now was his chance. His Seeker reflexes flew into action as he pulled her down on top of him. He was still staring at her. Hermione was shocked into silence, something that was absolutely unheard of.

"You came back." He breathed, his eyes roaming over her face, trying to absorb as much of her as possible. This had to be a dream.

"Harry, I never left." The emotion in her voice pushed him over the edge. Digging his hands deep into her unruly mass of curls, he dragged her mouth down and across his as they came together with a desperate clash of fire. He couldn't get enough of her; he was drowning, sinking deeper and deeper into her depths. Their tongues battled for dominance and Harry was unsure of who made the next move. Their motions were frenzied and rigorous as the tore at each other's clothes, desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Suddenly, the fireplace burst into flames, warming their skin as they pushed closer and closer to one another.

"I love you." He growled, pulling her shirt off her shoulder, biting down on the tender flesh that glowed in the firelight. "I love you." Her hands shook as she tore off his sweatpants. "I love you." One hard thrust and he filled her completely. "I love you." She swore and he flipped them over and began to thrust, slowly and deeply into her aching core. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy, a golden angel sent here to torment him. "I love you." Her nails left trails of blood down his back. "I love you, I love you, I love you." They were both cumming so hard, at the same time, every inch of them locked together. The possessive, fierce love in his eyes made her come undone as he raced into her, pushing as much of himself into her as he could, while she gave him back life with her moans and delightful shivers. They collapsed, half dressed, their heads equally messy their minds blissfully numb and their bodies unequivocally connected.

After several minutes, Hermione made a move to get up. Harry pulled her back down gently. Kissing her softly. "Don't go." Panic flooded his face.

"Harry, I…have to go." She sat up trying to run a hand through her hair. It got stuck. She yanked at it a couple times before it came free. Harry let out a throaty laugh. Her eyes flashed in annoyance before turning serious and distant.

"You're beautiful." He whispered brokenly. Her eyes clouded with tears as she let down her mask and sighed in distress.

"Oh God, Harry. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. For everything." He sat up quickly, wrapping her in his arms.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have been stronger. But I'm not. I never was Hermione. That was you, you were always our strength." At the mention of Ron, she removed herself from his arms, righting her skirt and sweater as she stood up and away from him.

"That was a-"

"The most amazing, incredible gift you could have possibly given me, Hermione. God I know your mind like that back of my hand, your soul as if it were my own, and now…your body. All three of them together…I've never known such enlightenment, I understand everything clearer now then I have in my entire existence." He stood as well. "I love you. Leave him."

She looked positively rabid by his declaration.

"I am not " Her voice quivering with rage. "the Deathly Hallows, I am not some quest Harry Potter. Some person to save. I made my choices. I did what I had to do!"

Harry's lipped curled into a sneer that Draco Malfoy would have applauded. "Oh please tell me. What? You did what you had to do for what? Surely it wasn't the "greater good?"

Hermione looked as though he had slapped her.

"I shouldn't have come here tonight."

"Yeah," Harry spat savagely. "Now that we've gotten there, why did you come here tonight? To throw it in my face? To give me a little taste of everything that I was missing, everything that belonged to him?!"

"I belong to no one! How dare you-?"

"Oh spare me your righteous bullshit." Hermione's hair crackled with furious magic, he was sure for a moment she was going to hex him. He would have welcomed it at this point.

"I came here to make sure you were alright-"

"Do I bloody look alright to you? Do I Hermione? Do I!?" Harry knew he must have seemed deranged. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking deep breaths. When she spoke again it was utterly calm.

"What do you want me to say Harry? Yes. Okay? Yes, I love you. I love you so much that I think some days it might kill me. That my heart just might explode right through my chest; it hurts me to look at you when all I see in your eyes. Every. Single. Time. Is betrayal. I did it for you! I'm with Ron for you! Harry listen to me, after everyone you lost, Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin and Tonks, Dobby, Hedwig….Harry, your parents. What was I supposed to do? Alienate you from the only family you had left? Take Ron away from you too?" Hermione was coming apart at the seams, going to pieces in front of him and all Harry could do was stare. "I thought. I thought if I could just keep the three of us together. Just keep us all together-"

"But you didn't Hermione! Ron has changed. I have changed. Wake up! We are not the same people that we were before the war; our friendship has become polite, tense conversation over fucking tea. Ron doesn't trust me, I don't blame him. I can't stand the sight of him most days."

Hermione burst into tears. "How can you say that? How? He's your best-"

Harry flew into a rage knocking several goblets off the side table sending them to pieces. He wasn't done, as he picked up a sliver picture frame of the three of them hurdling against the wall where it burst into flames. "He is NOT my best mate. You are. You always have been! You! You! You! Fucking hell Hermione, how could you be so stupid!?"

Her jaw dropped at his outburst. It took a couple seconds for her to compose herself, as Harry breathed heavily regretting absolutely nothing.

"Stupid. Right. Stupid." She muttered to herself as she collected her things and turned towards the fireplace. She stood there internally battling with herself for several moments. Finally she spoke, not realizing Harry had silently crept up behind her.

"Harry-" She pleaded brokenly. "Can't you just-"

"No." Was his sharp reply. Her tears began to fall once more, but she only nodded disappearing into a whirling tunnel of green flames. And she was gone. Harry stood there for hours before finally heading out the room to find his dress robes. The ceremony would commence in two hours.

9 Months Later...

Silence filled the waiting room of St. Mungos on the maternity ward. Ron was giddy with excitement while Harry was nursing the hangover of a century. Ginny had taken pity on him and brought him a coffee spiked with Firewhiskey. He sipped it, calmly; his exterior was cooler than ice, while he mind and insides twisted with burning anguish.

Hermione had been behind that door in intense labor for more than 12 hours. Harry was flabbergasted that Ron didn't want to be present; he couldn't handle Hermione being in pain. What a piece of shit. He thought savagely. He locked eyes with Ron who gave him a wide grin. Harry bite back the bile in this throat.

He had gone to the wedding, given he was fucking piss drunk and almost tumbled over at the alter; he had still been there. He had kept his mouth shut and he had wished the two of them a happy and long life. Of course, 5 hours later he found himself fucking her in her beautiful white dress in the bathroom of the reception hall. And then again when they returned from their honeymoon. That had been the last time. They had been so close to getting caught by Ron that Hermione lost all nerve and had made sure that Harry wasn't able to corner, coerce and guilt her into giving him part of herself. Sharing her with another.

He was disgusted with himself. Two days after that they had had the blow out of a century when she had confessed she was pregnant. She had told him his mind was unraveling and he had called her a whore.

Now here he sat, 9 months later…waiting for the answers, the ultimatums. The opportunity for him to have his heart ripped out of his chest one more time.

Suddenly a loud scream broke through the silence and then all was quite again. Harry and Ron jumped to their feet at the same time as a Healer Roderick came out, shutting the door firmly behind her and walking briskly towards them. She looked from Ron to Harry, worry and disbelief sketched all over her face. Harry's heart stabbed with pain.

"What the matter?" Ron pulled at his hair frantically. "Is she-?"

The Healer had not taken her eyes off of Harry. "She's fine. The…baby is fine."

Harry could feel the tension slipping off of her. Ron was, as usual oblivious.

"That's great! Then I can see her?"

"She's asking for both you and…Mr. Potter." Ginny's head snapped up at that and gave Harry a look of astonishment. She knew. Ron turned to Harry questioningly. Harry shook his head and they strode past the Healer into Hermione's room.

The pain in Hermione's eyes made Harry's stomach jump right through his throat. She was holding a small bundle against her, and she was shaking with pain and remorse. Ron approached her slowly, glancing at Harry as if Hermione had gone mad.

"Mione?" He whispered softly, edging closer to her. "What is it? Are you alright?"

Hermione ignored both of them as she rocked back and forth clutching the baby as if her life depended on it. "Oh God." She moaned again and again. Harry approached her from the other side. The blanket was blue.

"Let me see him, Hermione. Let me see my son." Ron urged.

"He's…he's…" Sobs wracked her body as she held the baby closer. Ron was looking positively alarmed.

"Hermione-" Harry touched her shoulder softly. Her eyes shot open and she turned her tortured gaze to him. The baby let out a soft cry. And with a glance of intense failure in Ron's direction she lifted the baby and placed him into Harry's arms.

Harry looked down at the small bundle he was holding and was greeted with the greenest eyes he had ever seen. His eyes. The baby cooed at him, tuffs of dark curly hair already sprouting from his head. Harry choked back a sob. One of love, thanks and one of grief.

Ron stood there uncomprehendingly for several moments, and then, just like that, his world came crashing down around him.

"No." He laughed. Hermione's eyes shot to his. "No." He said again, crossing the room towards Harry. "Give me my son."

"He isn't yours Ron." Harry shifted the baby so that Ron could look at him. "He's mine."

Ron stood dumbfounded for several seconds as he looked at the child his wife and best friend had created. He was the spitting image of the two of them. He was…perfect. "NO!" Bellowed Ron, mad with rage, pulling his wand out and aiming at Harry.

Hermione screamed for help. But it was too late. As the door of the hospital room burst open, Ron had already fired the killing curse straight at Harry, who had turned just in the nick of time to protect his son. As the world he knew faded, he heard Hermione's unholy screams pounding in his ears, tearing at his very being. And then there was nothing…

Present Day...

Harry awoke in a cold sweat. His heart pounding. He didn't think he would ever be able to sleep again. As his breathing leveled out he realized where we was. Home. Godrick's Hollow. Hermione was sleeping soundly on his chest and…Ron was…gone. Ron had been gone for 10 years. He had fought valiantly in the final battle, but after his arm had become infected and his blood had poisoned there was nothing they could do. He died coughing up pus and black tar, professing his love to Hermione and begging Harry to take care of Ginny.

Harry had never kept his promise.

And as the years had passed, every single time he visited Ron's grave, he was haunted with unshakable nightmares; night after night. What could have happened, what would have existed if Ron had not died.

He pulled his sleeping wife closer to him, her belly full with their third child. Ron was punishing him. He knew somewhere, in another realm; his best "mate" was waiting for him…that Ron had not completely moved on.

There were plenty of times Harry felt himself being watched, Hermione, in the beginning of their marriage had brought it up constantly. What did he expect? Hermione to never move on? But with death, Harry had to assume that Ron had put all the pieces together: that Harry wanted her long before Ron was gone, and that part of him was relieved that he died.

The two of them lived with the fact that Ron was an unseen presence occasionally following them, filled with malevolence, one that reeked with revenge. But Ron could not see into his mind, the dark thoughts that waited there, and Harry was ready for when that day came. The day Ron stopped swimming about his subconscious and decided to show his face… there would be war once again.