Disclaimer:I own NOTHING of Harry Potter's world, just wanted to tell you *Cheeky grin*

Summary: When two best friends love the same girls, worse, she chooses one of them, totally unaware of the other's hidden feelings, what could be done to mend such heartbreak? This triangle consists of HP/HG/RW! One shot.

A/N: This is a stand-alone story! It has nothing to do with my other story (Harry Potter & the Prisoners of the Dark Lord.)

Irony

The war had not ended, not by a long shot.

There was, of course, grave losses on each side, but neither was about to back down any time soon. To everyone's surprise, Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort hadn't met since Harry's fifth year, which was ten years ago.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were barely 25 when their friendship suddenly crumbled, all because of one man, or better said, creature: Lord Voldemort.

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"Hermione…" Harry began nervously.

"Yes, Harry." She said, sufficiently distracted by a large tome. Harry had long given up trying to keep track of the books read greedily by his girlfriend. He hated to admit it, but sometimes he felt that he competed against Hermione's books to get her affection, sometimes losing. Which was ridiculous, of course, but, sometimes, he found his fears justified, especially like now.

Harry looked at Ron, and the traitor was smirking at his discomfort.

Why did he choose to let Ron witness this moment? Was it for moral support? Yeah, right.

Sighing heavily, Harry questioned his heart's desire. Really, shouldn't he be worrying about the war, instead of wondering about Hermione's prized possessions? Harry shook his head. He can't let the war control their lives more than it already had.

"Uh—" Yes, he wanted to ask her, but he was really, really nervous. Well, not for nothing, rejection would probably flatten his spirits.

Apparently sensing his discomfort, she set her book aside, and looked up at him. Before he could lose his nerve, he quickly took her hand, and knelt in front of her.

Hermione shot a puzzled glance at Ron who only smirked wider.

"Harry," she said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Harry squeaked, and Ron had to struggle to keep from laughing out loud. Even Hermione looked amused.

"Nothing's wrong." Harry repeated. He cleared his throat nervously, "Hermione, I want to ask you something."

Hermione looked at Ron, looking a little worried, but his amused smile calmed her slightly. After all, Harry had acquired a sense of fatalism, which meant that his standards that defined 'wrong' were, to put it mildly, off-charts.

Still, she wasn't totally reassured.

"Ask." She said tentatively.

"Wannamarryme?" Harry asked quickly blushing.

Hermione's eyes widened, but she refused to believe it, Harry's speech jumbled as it was.

"Excuse me?" she said nervously, fearing that Harry would back down.

Harry took a deep breath.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his hand was still touching hers. His hands were cold. He looked at the ground, missing Hermione's watery smile.

"I know we are in a war." Harry added quickly, "I know I might die. I know we might not meet much while Voldemort is around. I know that no magnificent ceremony would be held because of the damned war, but—" Harry took another deep breath and looked up to meet Hermione's eyes, "But I love you," he said softly, "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Agonizing silence, then—

"You brat!" she squealed, throwing her arms around Harry's neck, "Did you think I'd say anything but yes?"

Neither noticed Ron's sad smile.

To Harry all his dreams came true except one: to see Voldemort and his army destroyed.

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Two years later—Voldemort still undefeated

"Harry, I have very bad news." Ron began tentatively.

They were at the Ministry; both were Commanders and shared the same office.

Harry stood up.

"Voldemort attacked Hogwarts?" Harry said frantically, already starting to put on the protecting uniform. Hogwarts attacked was the current worst case scenario. Harry was sure that Ron's face, paper-white and grim meant the worst kind of news. "Did he attack Grimmauld place? Where did he attack, Ron?" he snapped when Ron said nothing, staring at the ground. "What the hell happened?"

"It's not Voldemort." He said. It was a slight relief, but that didn't make Harry relax.

"What is it?" Harry asked anxiously, "Did someone disappear? Die? Get injured?"

Ron sighed.

"Just spit it out, will you?" Harry growled.

"It's Hermione." He said.

Harry felt like crumbling to the floor.

"Where is she?" he asked panicked, already bolting towards the door, but Ron managed to catch him.

"That's exactly the problem." Ron whispered.

"Did she disappear?" Harry felt horror seeping in his veins.

"Sort of," Ron muttered.

"Explain!" Harry snapped.

"She — she talked to me." Ron said, and that made Harry stare at him, not knowing what to make of that.

"She told me to tell you that she's leaving you, Harry."

Harry couldn't comprehend what he said.

"She left to — to go with another man." Ron said quietly.

"She's not in the house." Harry stated more than asked: quietly, and calmly.

That seemed to worry Ron more.

"She's not." He affirmed, "But—"

"I want to be alone, Ron." Harry interrupted, and he Disapparated with a pop.

Knowing where Harry went, Ron followed.

They were on a bridge, the rain pouring on both of them.

"I told you to leave me alone." Harry's voice shook, as he looked at the river running under them.

"I can't, Harry." Ron said. "You are my friend . . . My best friend . . . A brother."

"I don't want to hurt you, Harry." He said quietly after a while, "Neither that man, I'm sure, don't hate him, Harry. Understand him. That man only came to fill in the space you have left; you didn't spend much time with her, if any, with you caring about defeating Voldemort, and only that."

"You think that I do it because I want to?" Harry asked looking at Ron, his eyes red. Was it tears or was it rain making trails down Harry's cheeks? "I've done a billion mistakes, didn't care about most of things, but she knew that I couldn't live without her love."

"You have to forget her, it's for your own good," Ron advised him, "Maybe you two were happy, but now she is really happy. I'm sorry, Harry, but the fact that you could die any moment could send anyone who loves you over the edge. Look at me, I'm your partner, and it affects me when you are in danger, how do you think she felt? She was miserable, Harry, and trying to forget you, she fell in love with somebody else. She fell in love with someone who will not die anytime soon, someone who is not seeking to destroy you-know-who personally. It was better for the peace of her mind."

Silence again.

"I know how you feel." Ron said, "She wrote a letter—" out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Ron extend a roll of parchment. It was not wet, obviously charmed to repel water. Presented with something that held Hermione's magic, Harry could not touch it. Ron sighed, obviously understanding Harry's predicament. He unrolled the parchment, and began reading.

To Harry, Ron's voice morphed in his head, the words uttered with her sweet voice.

I'm so sorry it had to end like this. I'm fine now. But the last few years, as a couple, were lonely. I couldn't bear this anymore. You are always far away from me. I'm always worrying whether you are alive or dead.

Things are better now. Finally, there is someone that thinks about me, has more time, and shows me his love.

Please, understand, I don't blame you for my loneliness. You gave me sweet and unforgettable memories, and I will always cherish them. But this love was slowly destroying me, and I'm weaker than that.

Please forgive me.

I will always love you, Harry. I will always help you. I am, first and foremost, your friend. I'll do that from afar, for I don't want to hurt you further.

Take care of yourself.

Unbidden, rage took hold of Harry, shaking off the apathy and disbelief that had stunned him.

"He took advantage of the situation, of her moment of weakness," Harry growled, eyes flashing.

"Why do you think that?" Ron asked startled.

"Hermione said so herself," Harry snapped, teeth clenching. "She still loves me. There's no way she loves him. Selfish bastard,"

Silence again, then…

"That man loves her," Ron contradicted him quietly. "She looked a lot better lately, you know that, and that's why it hurts you. He had placed hope in her life."

"You know who he is?" Harry asked desperately. "He has to know that she's with him out of pain! I'll pay more attention to Hermione, I'll stay with her, and—"

"Don't fool yourself Harry." Ron said firmly, if not a little harshly. "She loves him! Life gives just one chance Harry, one chance. Accept that."

"That man stole her!" Harry growled, his eyes glowing with defiance.

"It wasn't his fault!" Ron cried.

Harry glared at him.

"What is it to you?" he snarled.

Silence again, then…

"That man didn't want to hurt you," Ron said looking at the river, away from Harry's face. "Don't hate him, please, he's your friend, and cares for you, because that man — that man is me."

Ron turned to look at Harry, and then, just then, he saw the tears despite the rain that was pouring down on them.

"Fuck you." Harry said, and Ron winced; Harry never ever used that word, "I don't want to see you — ever!"

And with that Harry walked away.

And later that night, Voldemort was announced defeated by a very pissed off Harry.

It was, after all, Voldemort's fault; he took Harry's attention away from his love and let her slip away.

Pathetic, Harry, he thought looking through the window of the plane taking him away from England, from all the celebration, the pain, the memories, and…

His only love left behind.

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Six years later

Ron entered his apartment cheerfully, and looked around the place. His life was a paradise.

After Harry left, after defeating Voldemort, things were gloomy. They tried to contact him, but the brat had been able to hide himself perfectly. He probably didn't even use his wand anymore.

People didn't know Hermione was the one who abandoned Harry. They all thought that the Boy Who Lived had left everything behind, his wife included. So they thought that they got together after Harry had left.

His work as an Auror was perfect too; they managed to catch most of the Death Eaters. However, history tended to repeat itself; the Malfoys were found innocent. They pretended that they did everything under the Imperious curse cast by the Death Eaters. Typical.

"Hermione, dear, I'm home!" Ron said taking off his cloak. Silence greeted him.

"Hermione?" he said uncertainly. They weren't married, yes, but they lived together.

He wanted to propose to her tonight.

His eyes caught sight of a roll of parchment.

With dread, he picked it up, and read:

Dear Ron

Six years has passed. It's 2:00PM, and it's raining like the day when I left Harry. In this letter, I want to leave you all my love, and express my thanks for helping me, and for understanding me.

It's 2:00PM, and raining like and it's raining like the day when I left Harry. Maybe that's why it's so difficult to tell you goodbye . . .

Ron, still in shock, feeling his world crumbling around his ears, folded the letter, its words ringing in his ears, and walked toward where he saw Harry Potter before his departure.

And to his great surprise, he saw him there.

"Harry?" Ron said tentatively, reluctantly.

"Ron." Harry greeted him with a faint smile.

Awkward silence fell. It was a unique situation. Meeting again after such circumstances—

"What brings you here?" Harry asked.

It was not strange that Harry would ask that. After all, this was their chosen place to be sad, to have a self-pity party, and nothing else.

"The world is small." Ron said, and he knew that Harry was listening. It was a good sign that Harry hadn't punched him yet. "Who would have thought that we would meet in the same place where we last met? I'm a loser. She left me. I lost, too. Now, I understand how deep the pain you went through because of me."

"I'm sorry." His emotionless voice belied the statement. "That kind of love is not easily forgotten, I know that. I'm sorry. You lost a great woman."

"You still hate me." Ron muttered looking at the ground, the rain pouring on them.

"It's all in the past." Harry shrugged.

"Then if you still consider me your friend," Ron was desperate, "Help me find her!"

Her words rang in his head.

Farewell . . . I wish you luck.

"What use would that be?" Harry asked, "You can't get her back; you have lost her."

"But, please help me to search for her!"

I'm sorry for hurting you— that was not my intention.

"To her, you have been only a fantasy." Harry said harshly, "A fantasy that took her away from me when I was busy looking for a way to defeat Voldemort!"

Silence again, then…

"The world is small." Ron muttered, silent sobs shaking his body. "Who would have thought that this will happen to me?" He shook his head. "I don't understand! I swear! I loved her, I really did, and I never thought that she'd do that to me, never. I was going to ask her to marry me." He whispered, feeling as if his heart was being shattered to pieces.

"The life is like that, Ron." Harry said shrugged, "You trip on the stone you have once thrown. In the end, you have to pay, whether you want to or not."

"You still hate me."

"I swear I don't." Harry said shaking his head.

"Then you are still my friend." Ron cried, " Please help my find her!"

I know that one day you'll understand,

"You have to forget her; it's for your own good." Harry's statement echoed Ron's advice six years ago, "If I could do it, you can too."

"But help me search for her, I have to find her!"

I wish you happiness, such as the one you gave me while I was staying with you,

"Couldn't you see that this is crazy?" Harry asked incredulously, "After what you did to me, you ask for help?"

Silence fell yet again, interrupted by Ron's heart-wrenching sobs. Harry sighed.

"I didn't think that I would find you here, and I can't go without telling you the truth." Blue eyes met emerald green, "Follow my advise, try to forget, because the moment she left you—" Harry stopped, unable to continue.

"What?" Ron asked hoarsely.

"The moment she left you," Harry said, and gulped, "She came back to me — and I received her with open arms."

That was it. Ron's knees hit the wet ground, and hot tears fell on the ground mingling with the rain. Harry bent down, and placed a hand on Ron's shoulder; a comforting hand.

"Damn you, Voldemort." Harry muttered.

It all came back to him.

He killed people.

He tortured them.

He made other people kill and torture.

He ripped families apart.

He was the cause of distrust.

He was the cause of hundreds being widows or orphans.

It all came back to him.

"I'll try to trust you again." Harry muttered to Ron as a desperate attempt to comfort him. It worked wonderfully, but didn't prevent the howl of misery of escaping Ron's mouth.

Neither noticed a smiling Hermione.

She had a part in ripping them apart, but unlike Voldemort, she brought them together.

Or tried to.

Her sad smile widened.

~The End~

(Revised the 14th of May, 2010)

A/N: So, um, basically, Hermione is a bitch in this fic. I'm tempted to take it down from my account, but, for some reason, I just can't, so I opted to correct the horrible mistakes.

What do you think?

Take care.

La Luna Negra out