Ron stood, the rain drenching his flaming red hair and getting caught in
his lashes. He stared into the restaurant window where they sat, Harry and
Hermione, laughing and kissing. His fists clenched as he watched Hermione
staring into Harry's big, green eyes. He leaned against the brick wall
across the street and stared, with a hate growing inside his gut toward his
best friend, the one person who was always there for him, who stood by him
no matter what he did.
Ron hated the Famous Harry Potter. He told Harry a long time ago that he loved Hermione Granger. It was fifth year when he knew that he had to have Hermione, no matter what, but Harry stole her away from him. How dare he? How dare he betray his best friend?
Ron's cheeks flushed with a rage that was uncontainable. He had to do something; he had to do something about this hate. Violence was the answer this time; violence was definitely the answer. He would make Harry pay.
Harry and Hermione stood and held hands, walking out of the door. Ron stepped back into the shadows of the nearby alleyway. Harry gayly opened the door for his love and Hermione giggled and got into the blood red Jeep. Harry was so happy as he too entered the car and they drove off.
Ron quickly ran to his black car and drove off, speeding after Hermione and Harry. He didn't stop at all, not for anything, not for anyone. He kept going, speeding on and on until the Jeep stopped. Ron slammed on the breaks five houses down and watched Hermione get out of the car. Harry walked her to the door, holding his coat over her head so she wouldn't get wet. They kissed again and Ron flinched at the sickening sight. Hermione went inside her home and softly shut the door behind her. Harry sighed and walked back to his car, madly in love with her.
Harry shut the door and drove off. Ron could see them kissing in the back of his mind and a cold shiver ran down his spine. As Harry got to the end of the street, Ron pushed on the acceleration and followed at a distance.
He followed Harry, the water splashing on his windshield from the Jeep's tires. Harry got to his apartment complex and parked in the lot near his first floor flat. Ron pulled in and parked a distance from Harry's car.
He reached under the passenger seat and grabbed a cream coloured bag that carried everything he would need for that night's work.
Ron stepped back out into the pouring rain and watched Harry unlock his door. He walked slowly, his footsteps echoing in the dead night amongst the rainfall and watched Harry throw his damp coat over the chair and started unbuttoning his shirt as he walked into his bathroom. Ron walked closer to the window, pulling the knife out his bag that fell at his side. The silver blade shimmered under the lampposts that flickered above him.
He kneeled at the bushes and stared through the window. Harry fell onto his couch, wearing his nightshirt and pajama pants. He picked up a book and began to read under a dim light. Ron watched him, unblinking as Harry turned the pages of his novel.
Finally, after an hour, Harry put down the book and went into his bedroom. The lights vanished from the window. This was his chance.
Ron stood up and walked over to the door and picked the lock as carefully as he could, just like Fred and George taught him how to do. The door swung ajar and Ron slowly squeezed himself through the small opening that the door gave him. He was in after a minute and he sighed softly. Ron slowly shut the door and locked it, using the bolt, chain and the regular lock.
All in a matter of time, he thought in his deranged mind. Soon he would show what the cost was of betrayal and why no one crossed Ron Weasley.
"Is someone there?" he heard Harry ask from his bedroom. Ron froze in the middle of the room, grasping the knife in his sweaty hand. He silently gulped. The moment lasted an eternity as he waited for Harry's bedroom door to creak open and for everything to be ruined.
But it never did. Ron stood silently as a statue in his friend's living room for nearly a half-an-hour. The time passed like a snail crawling against the wind, but that didn't matter. The time didn't matter; all that matter was that he finished what he came to do.
Ron walked toward the door, one step at a time, slowly coming toward the destination. The minutes passed as he slowly crept to his hate.
And finally, Ron grasped the bronze handle and turned it slowly. He pushed the door open and thunder cracked in the dead of night. Harry jumped up at the clapping of the night and looked out the window.
Ron walked in and shut the door. Harry heard the click and turned his head sharply toward the entrance.
"Hello?" Harry asked. Harry's voice cracked with fear. A grin crossed Ron's face as he watched Harry tremble with fear of the unknown lurking in the shadows. "I-is anyone there?"
"Somebody," Ron whispered, but it rang clearly through the room. Harry's heart jolted as he heard the eerie sound of his best friend's voice, unrecognizable in tone.
"What-what do you want?" Harry asked. Ron felt Harry's fear penetrate the room and his demonic grin spread even wider across his face. Ron said nothing and stepped closer to Harry's bed, away from the safety of the shadow. Harry saw the dark figure that was Ron coming out at him and he jumped out of his bed toward the window.
Ron stepped toward Harry, each step increasing his friend's fear. Ron knew that Harry was pale, shivering and sweating. Finally, he was the one in control. "Hermione belongs to me, Harry," Ron whispered as he neared Harry, who he had backed into a corner.
"R-Ron?" Harry asked, shocked. The horror was flooding through Harry as he saw Ron walk toward him. "No.no Ron.it can't be.you wouldn't do."
Ron glared and pointed the knife at his neck, the cold silver touching Harry's pale chin and Harry's eyes widened in terror and disbelief.
"Why." he muttered, heart-broken and confused at this sudden change. Yesterday, they had laughed about the future while playing wizards chess. Yesterday, they hugged like brothers at midnight when they finally went home. They were best friends then, what happened now?
But Harry never knew what had really happened in his mind, what had really been going through his head those days and nights. Thoughts of hate, plans of how he would do what needed to be done.
"Why, you ask?" Ron laughed coldly in Harry's petrified face. "Because you stole what was mine, you took the one thing that I loved the most.you betrayed me.I thought you were my friend, but that was a mistake." Perfect, Ron thought, just like he had practiced.
"But.Ron." Harry whispered softly. Ron smiled and kneeled before Harry, slowly but surly. He made a soft cut up Harry's neck and blood oozed from the wound.
"Please." Harry begged. "Ron.you.you're my friend, Ron.please.we have been friends forever.since we were ten years old.we have been.brothers.Please."
"Eleven, Harry." Ron said. He watched the blood hit Harry's white shirt, staining the collar red. "It was eleven. We were eleven." The knife made a horizontal cut over the first, delicately breaking the skin over Harry's neck. A tear streaked Harry's cheek.
"Ron." he whimpered. "Ron.please." A stab of sympathy crossed Ron's wretched heart, but he couldn't stop, it had to be done.
With a terrible cut, Ron opened Harry's neck completely. Harry screamed, but was still alive, but only just. Blood flooded from his neck and Harry struggle for breath. Ron jumped back and watched the red touch the pure white carpet like a waterfall hitting dry ground. Harry was growing weak, but he kept fighting, he always did. This angered him, so he slapped Harry across the face and then stared. But more needed to be done, this wasn't the end.
"Even in death, you will never say you love her again!" Ron shouted. He slammed his hand in the open wound. He felt the blood on his hands as he watched Harry fall limp, his sad and pained eyes staring at Ron, emerald eyes that would never look upon his dear love again. Ron pulled out Harry'' throat out. It was sickening to hold, so he threw it on the ground and watched it stain the carpet with blood. He stood and looked at Harry.
Emotion took him by the throat and Ron gently shut Harry's eyelids and stared down.
"You were always such a good friend to me.sorry things had to turn out this way.if only you left her alone."
He strolled to he sink, whistling a happy tune and washed the crimson stains off his hands. The water was cold compared to Harry's blood, but that didn't matter. Now, to get the one he loved.
Ron plopped onto Harry's messy bed and picked up the telephone to call Hermione. He dialed with a steady hand and then held the phone to his ear.
It rang twice before he heard her answer. Her voice was like bells, ringing in the distance, melodically and enchanting.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Hermione.this is Ron," he said calmly, as if nothing was wrong.
"Oh, hello Ron, it is a bit late to be calling.what do you want?" she asked sweetly.
"Nothing really, just to hear you talk." he said.
"Where are you.you don't have a phone in your flat." Hermione said suddenly, suspicion in her tone.
"Oh.erm.at Harry's," Ron said truthfully.
"Oh, he didn't tell me you were going there.can I talk to him?" she asked. Anger stabbed through him at her request.
"No," he simply said.
Hermione paused and took a deep breath. "Ron.just let me talk to him.I'm not in the mood for a game."
"He can't talk." Ron said.
"What's going on Ron?" she asked after a moment's pause. She was concerned, damn Harry.
"I.erm.killed your boyfriend Hermione," he said. Hermione paused and then laughed.
"Oh, Ron, you are silly.just let me talk to him, please."
"He can't talk, he has no throat," Ron said in all seriousness.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"I ripped it out so he couldn't talk to you anymore.I love you Hermione. Will you marry me.we can forget about him and move on.we'll move to the states, you and me, and have a new life.and."
"Ron.you.did.what.?" she asked, believing him. Suddenly, sirens echoed through the night.
"I have to go.I'll come get you." Ron said hurriedly. He put the phone down and crawled out the window and ran to his car. No one saw him leaving, but he saw the police with their cars and flashing lights. He drove off toward Hermione's house, the sirens slowly dying in the distance.
She will say yes, she had to. He did all of that for her, it was all for her. He loved her so, she was his and only his.
And then he arrived at her house. She was outside, waiting for him, standing under a black umbrella, crying.
For Harry? She was crying for him, wasn't she?
Ron parked and got out of the car and walked toward her. She backed up slowly, but she needed the answers, she needed to be brave. Ron began to run and then he threw his arms around her.
"Please, don't cry." he said, stroking her hair gently with the back of his hand. "I love you.I love you, Hermione Granger, don't cry over him." He then pressed his mouth over hers and she whimpered softly and began to pull away. Ron fell back onto the wet grass and stared in shock and disbelief.
"You.you murdered him.?" she asked in horror. "You killed your best friend and then expect me to love you for this terrible act?" She was shaking in fear and in rage and Ron stared up at her.
"Hermione, we can live together.we will be happy, love.we will be great together, I love you more than Harry ever could have loved you!"
"Then you could have let me be happy." she snapped, tears now flooding from her eyes.
"Please, don't cry," he said. She was just mad at him, it would pass, and then they would live together, never thinking about Harry again. "I love you.I know you love me."
"No, I hate you."
The words stabbed him like a knife, filling him with sadness. She meant it, it would never change.
"Hermione." he whispered as he sat on the grass. She glared at him, beautiful even with her tear streaked face, tears for Harry. "I love you.we are meant for each other, I know you love me.you have to, you have to."
"Get away before I call the Ministry." she spat at him. Ron stood sadly and stared at her. She still loved him, just was angry. He would come again for her.when she calmed down.
He went to his car and sat on the leather seat, smiling at his accomplishments of the night. Ron pushed the gas petal and drove off into the rainy night. Hermione was his now, and Harry was out of the way.
Ron hated the Famous Harry Potter. He told Harry a long time ago that he loved Hermione Granger. It was fifth year when he knew that he had to have Hermione, no matter what, but Harry stole her away from him. How dare he? How dare he betray his best friend?
Ron's cheeks flushed with a rage that was uncontainable. He had to do something; he had to do something about this hate. Violence was the answer this time; violence was definitely the answer. He would make Harry pay.
Harry and Hermione stood and held hands, walking out of the door. Ron stepped back into the shadows of the nearby alleyway. Harry gayly opened the door for his love and Hermione giggled and got into the blood red Jeep. Harry was so happy as he too entered the car and they drove off.
Ron quickly ran to his black car and drove off, speeding after Hermione and Harry. He didn't stop at all, not for anything, not for anyone. He kept going, speeding on and on until the Jeep stopped. Ron slammed on the breaks five houses down and watched Hermione get out of the car. Harry walked her to the door, holding his coat over her head so she wouldn't get wet. They kissed again and Ron flinched at the sickening sight. Hermione went inside her home and softly shut the door behind her. Harry sighed and walked back to his car, madly in love with her.
Harry shut the door and drove off. Ron could see them kissing in the back of his mind and a cold shiver ran down his spine. As Harry got to the end of the street, Ron pushed on the acceleration and followed at a distance.
He followed Harry, the water splashing on his windshield from the Jeep's tires. Harry got to his apartment complex and parked in the lot near his first floor flat. Ron pulled in and parked a distance from Harry's car.
He reached under the passenger seat and grabbed a cream coloured bag that carried everything he would need for that night's work.
Ron stepped back out into the pouring rain and watched Harry unlock his door. He walked slowly, his footsteps echoing in the dead night amongst the rainfall and watched Harry throw his damp coat over the chair and started unbuttoning his shirt as he walked into his bathroom. Ron walked closer to the window, pulling the knife out his bag that fell at his side. The silver blade shimmered under the lampposts that flickered above him.
He kneeled at the bushes and stared through the window. Harry fell onto his couch, wearing his nightshirt and pajama pants. He picked up a book and began to read under a dim light. Ron watched him, unblinking as Harry turned the pages of his novel.
Finally, after an hour, Harry put down the book and went into his bedroom. The lights vanished from the window. This was his chance.
Ron stood up and walked over to the door and picked the lock as carefully as he could, just like Fred and George taught him how to do. The door swung ajar and Ron slowly squeezed himself through the small opening that the door gave him. He was in after a minute and he sighed softly. Ron slowly shut the door and locked it, using the bolt, chain and the regular lock.
All in a matter of time, he thought in his deranged mind. Soon he would show what the cost was of betrayal and why no one crossed Ron Weasley.
"Is someone there?" he heard Harry ask from his bedroom. Ron froze in the middle of the room, grasping the knife in his sweaty hand. He silently gulped. The moment lasted an eternity as he waited for Harry's bedroom door to creak open and for everything to be ruined.
But it never did. Ron stood silently as a statue in his friend's living room for nearly a half-an-hour. The time passed like a snail crawling against the wind, but that didn't matter. The time didn't matter; all that matter was that he finished what he came to do.
Ron walked toward the door, one step at a time, slowly coming toward the destination. The minutes passed as he slowly crept to his hate.
And finally, Ron grasped the bronze handle and turned it slowly. He pushed the door open and thunder cracked in the dead of night. Harry jumped up at the clapping of the night and looked out the window.
Ron walked in and shut the door. Harry heard the click and turned his head sharply toward the entrance.
"Hello?" Harry asked. Harry's voice cracked with fear. A grin crossed Ron's face as he watched Harry tremble with fear of the unknown lurking in the shadows. "I-is anyone there?"
"Somebody," Ron whispered, but it rang clearly through the room. Harry's heart jolted as he heard the eerie sound of his best friend's voice, unrecognizable in tone.
"What-what do you want?" Harry asked. Ron felt Harry's fear penetrate the room and his demonic grin spread even wider across his face. Ron said nothing and stepped closer to Harry's bed, away from the safety of the shadow. Harry saw the dark figure that was Ron coming out at him and he jumped out of his bed toward the window.
Ron stepped toward Harry, each step increasing his friend's fear. Ron knew that Harry was pale, shivering and sweating. Finally, he was the one in control. "Hermione belongs to me, Harry," Ron whispered as he neared Harry, who he had backed into a corner.
"R-Ron?" Harry asked, shocked. The horror was flooding through Harry as he saw Ron walk toward him. "No.no Ron.it can't be.you wouldn't do."
Ron glared and pointed the knife at his neck, the cold silver touching Harry's pale chin and Harry's eyes widened in terror and disbelief.
"Why." he muttered, heart-broken and confused at this sudden change. Yesterday, they had laughed about the future while playing wizards chess. Yesterday, they hugged like brothers at midnight when they finally went home. They were best friends then, what happened now?
But Harry never knew what had really happened in his mind, what had really been going through his head those days and nights. Thoughts of hate, plans of how he would do what needed to be done.
"Why, you ask?" Ron laughed coldly in Harry's petrified face. "Because you stole what was mine, you took the one thing that I loved the most.you betrayed me.I thought you were my friend, but that was a mistake." Perfect, Ron thought, just like he had practiced.
"But.Ron." Harry whispered softly. Ron smiled and kneeled before Harry, slowly but surly. He made a soft cut up Harry's neck and blood oozed from the wound.
"Please." Harry begged. "Ron.you.you're my friend, Ron.please.we have been friends forever.since we were ten years old.we have been.brothers.Please."
"Eleven, Harry." Ron said. He watched the blood hit Harry's white shirt, staining the collar red. "It was eleven. We were eleven." The knife made a horizontal cut over the first, delicately breaking the skin over Harry's neck. A tear streaked Harry's cheek.
"Ron." he whimpered. "Ron.please." A stab of sympathy crossed Ron's wretched heart, but he couldn't stop, it had to be done.
With a terrible cut, Ron opened Harry's neck completely. Harry screamed, but was still alive, but only just. Blood flooded from his neck and Harry struggle for breath. Ron jumped back and watched the red touch the pure white carpet like a waterfall hitting dry ground. Harry was growing weak, but he kept fighting, he always did. This angered him, so he slapped Harry across the face and then stared. But more needed to be done, this wasn't the end.
"Even in death, you will never say you love her again!" Ron shouted. He slammed his hand in the open wound. He felt the blood on his hands as he watched Harry fall limp, his sad and pained eyes staring at Ron, emerald eyes that would never look upon his dear love again. Ron pulled out Harry'' throat out. It was sickening to hold, so he threw it on the ground and watched it stain the carpet with blood. He stood and looked at Harry.
Emotion took him by the throat and Ron gently shut Harry's eyelids and stared down.
"You were always such a good friend to me.sorry things had to turn out this way.if only you left her alone."
He strolled to he sink, whistling a happy tune and washed the crimson stains off his hands. The water was cold compared to Harry's blood, but that didn't matter. Now, to get the one he loved.
Ron plopped onto Harry's messy bed and picked up the telephone to call Hermione. He dialed with a steady hand and then held the phone to his ear.
It rang twice before he heard her answer. Her voice was like bells, ringing in the distance, melodically and enchanting.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Hermione.this is Ron," he said calmly, as if nothing was wrong.
"Oh, hello Ron, it is a bit late to be calling.what do you want?" she asked sweetly.
"Nothing really, just to hear you talk." he said.
"Where are you.you don't have a phone in your flat." Hermione said suddenly, suspicion in her tone.
"Oh.erm.at Harry's," Ron said truthfully.
"Oh, he didn't tell me you were going there.can I talk to him?" she asked. Anger stabbed through him at her request.
"No," he simply said.
Hermione paused and took a deep breath. "Ron.just let me talk to him.I'm not in the mood for a game."
"He can't talk." Ron said.
"What's going on Ron?" she asked after a moment's pause. She was concerned, damn Harry.
"I.erm.killed your boyfriend Hermione," he said. Hermione paused and then laughed.
"Oh, Ron, you are silly.just let me talk to him, please."
"He can't talk, he has no throat," Ron said in all seriousness.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"I ripped it out so he couldn't talk to you anymore.I love you Hermione. Will you marry me.we can forget about him and move on.we'll move to the states, you and me, and have a new life.and."
"Ron.you.did.what.?" she asked, believing him. Suddenly, sirens echoed through the night.
"I have to go.I'll come get you." Ron said hurriedly. He put the phone down and crawled out the window and ran to his car. No one saw him leaving, but he saw the police with their cars and flashing lights. He drove off toward Hermione's house, the sirens slowly dying in the distance.
She will say yes, she had to. He did all of that for her, it was all for her. He loved her so, she was his and only his.
And then he arrived at her house. She was outside, waiting for him, standing under a black umbrella, crying.
For Harry? She was crying for him, wasn't she?
Ron parked and got out of the car and walked toward her. She backed up slowly, but she needed the answers, she needed to be brave. Ron began to run and then he threw his arms around her.
"Please, don't cry." he said, stroking her hair gently with the back of his hand. "I love you.I love you, Hermione Granger, don't cry over him." He then pressed his mouth over hers and she whimpered softly and began to pull away. Ron fell back onto the wet grass and stared in shock and disbelief.
"You.you murdered him.?" she asked in horror. "You killed your best friend and then expect me to love you for this terrible act?" She was shaking in fear and in rage and Ron stared up at her.
"Hermione, we can live together.we will be happy, love.we will be great together, I love you more than Harry ever could have loved you!"
"Then you could have let me be happy." she snapped, tears now flooding from her eyes.
"Please, don't cry," he said. She was just mad at him, it would pass, and then they would live together, never thinking about Harry again. "I love you.I know you love me."
"No, I hate you."
The words stabbed him like a knife, filling him with sadness. She meant it, it would never change.
"Hermione." he whispered as he sat on the grass. She glared at him, beautiful even with her tear streaked face, tears for Harry. "I love you.we are meant for each other, I know you love me.you have to, you have to."
"Get away before I call the Ministry." she spat at him. Ron stood sadly and stared at her. She still loved him, just was angry. He would come again for her.when she calmed down.
He went to his car and sat on the leather seat, smiling at his accomplishments of the night. Ron pushed the gas petal and drove off into the rainy night. Hermione was his now, and Harry was out of the way.