The Count

Author's Note: I do not own anything in the Count of Monte Cristo or Harry Potter. Both are the property of their respective owners. Also some quotes are used from the Count of Monte Cristo.

On the 24th of February, 1815 the watchtower at Notre Dame signaled that it had spotted the Pharaon, a ship coming in from the West Indies and carrying spices and other products. On the deck of the ship there stood a man who seemed as much at home on the sea as he did on land. This man had bright red hair and was about 19 years of age. He had innocence about his face and all the crew loved him like an elder brother.

"Weasley, how are you my boy?" a voice called out.

Ronald Weasley turned toward the voice addressing him and saw his employer, Mr. Flitwick, coming towards him. He was a small, squat man but he was treated his employees like they were family.

"I'm very good, Mr. Flitwick, but also very sad because our beloved Captain Lockhart died on the voyage back. He had an inoperable brain tumor and we buried him at the first island we came upon."

"Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that, Captain Lockhart was an outstanding captain and now I will have to find his replacement. But were there any other problems?"

"None, except for a quarrel between myself and the ship's accountant, Mr. Snape. He had insulted me and I in my rashness suggested we land at one of the islands and duel but he in his wisdom declined. We had been arguing over my stop at the island of Hogwarts to carry out the last wishes of Captain Lockhart. Mr. Snape thought it was a waste of time."

"Well, it's expected of you to obey the last requests of your superior officer so you are not to blame."

"Mr. Flitwick, may I have a word?" an oily voice said.

Flitwick let Ron take care of the final docking preparations and turned towards the man who had called him. Severus Snape had been the purser on the Pharaon many years and was eager to advance to captain.

"Yes, Mr. Snape? What is it you wished to discuss with me?"

"I wanted to know if Weasley had informed you of the package he had received from the island."

"He mentioned no such thing to me. But I do not mind because that young man is going to be our next captain if I have anything to say about it."

"But isn't he too young for such a position, sir?"

"Nonsense, Mr. Weasley has shown incredible loyalty and skill the few years he has been with us. Also the men love him and respect him. I see no flaw in his character or judgment." Just then Ron came over to Flitwick.

"Mr. Flitwick, the docking preparations are complete and now may I take my leave?"

"Oh, that's right I nearly forgot. You have to go see your father and that lovely fiancé of yours, don't you?"

"Yes sir. My father is probably worried sick about me and I promised Hermione that I would see her as soon as I got back from my voyage." Ron said, smiling happily.

"You're a lucky man to marry such a lovely and intelligent young woman as Hermione. But yes, you may go but be sure to return within the next few weeks, after all the Pharaon can't leave without her new captain."

"Me…captain? Oh, thank you sir and don't worry I'll be back before the ship sets sail. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart." Then Ron left the ship, leaving Snape and Flitwick staring after him. The latter with kindness and generosity in his eye and the former with a raging hatred

Ron hurried to his small house he lived in with his father. The apartment was very tiny and barely had enough room for one man to live in, let alone two.

"Father, I'm home!" Ron shouted.

Arthur Weasley came running up to his son and the two embraced.

"Oh, my boy home at last. I'm so happy your back." The old man exclaimed.

"But father, why are you trembling?" Ron asked, concerned.

"I'm just so happy to see you."

"But you also are so thin. Have you been eating? What happened to the 400 francs I gave to you when I left?"

"Well, you forgot about the debt you owed to our landlord, Mr. Moody. He threatened to write to Mr. Flitwick and I feared for your job so I paid him the 350 francs."

"You mean to tell me that you've been living for 3 months with just 50 francs? Oh father forgive me. Here take this money and get something to eat." Ron said, pulling money out of his pockets left and right.

"My son, whose money is this?"

"Mine…yours….ours! And now that I have seen you, Father, and made sure that you are for want of nothing, I will ask your leave to go see Hermione."

"Go, my son, go and may God bless you with a wife as he has blessed me with a son."

"He has given me one of his angels, father. Farewell, I'll come visit you tonight, with Hermione." Arthur was left with the money in his hand and happiness in his heart.

In a small district of the town of Marseilles, in a tiny home, two people were talking, a man and a woman. The man was looking very upset. He had black hair and a scar on his forehead. His eyes were a very light green and were looking upon the woman he was talking to with adoration. This woman was very beautiful, she had bushy hair and her skin was very pale. Her eyes were the color of chocolates and they were looking towards the doorway with hope.

"Please, just listen to me Hermione. It is nearly spring, the perfect time for a wedding. Give me an answer, I beg of you." Hermione whirled around and looked at him.

"Harry, I have answered you a hundred times. I really think you must be your own worst enemy that you should ask me again. I have never encouraged you in your hopes, Harry; you cannot reproach me with looks alone. Haven't I always told you: 'I am fond of you as a brother, but never ask anything more of me. My heart belongs to another.' Haven't I always told you that, Harry?

"Yes, Hermione, you have always been cruelly frank with me." Harry answered gloomily.

"Harry, Hermione replied, shaking her head, a woman cannot be a loving wife to someone if she loves another. Be satisfied with my friendship, for I repeat it once more, this is all I can promise you." Harry got up and began pacing and then he looked at Hermione with scowling brows.

"Tell me once more, Hermione, is this your final answer?" Harry asked.

"I love Ronald Weasley, and no other shall be my husband." She said coldly.

"You will always love him?"

"As long as I live."

Harry bowed his head and groaned, but then he came up and hissed between his clenched teeth:

"What if he dies?"

"Then I will die as well."

"But what if he forgets you?"

"Hermione!" a voice called out.

"You see, he hasn't forgotten me for here he is." Hermione said to Harry, beaming with joy. She ran towards the door and flung it open. "Ron, here I am!"

They fell into each others arms. The light came pouring in and the two looked like two halves of the same soul, reunited after a long separation. They only had eyes for each other and kissed as if they had first met.

"Oh, Ron, I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, Mione. But who is this gentleman?" Ron asked, looking at Harry in the corner.

"This is my cousin, you remember me telling you about him. I'm sure you'll be the best of friends because he is my friend." Hermione said. Ron held out his hand in all friendliness. Harry looked like he'd sooner shake the hand of the Devil but with one look from Hermione he took the proffered hand. Then he could stand it no more and excused himself. He was running along the avenue muttering to himself.

"If only I could get rid of him." He whispered.

Coming up to a café he saw two people who he knew fairly well. One was Severus Snape and the other was Alastor Moody. Moody was drunk, but Snape had a cunning and devious look about him.

"My dear Alastor, I think the young fellow is suffering from unrequited love, how sad."

"Hermione would be mine if it wasn't for that man."

"Ah, yes Mr. Weasley, well he seems to be causing trouble wherever he goes. He robbed me of my position and you of your sweetheart. Whatever are we going to do about that?" Snape said, with a look of mock concern on his face. Harry came and sat down with the two.

"Tell me more about this plan."

The following day Ron and Hermione were at their betroal feast and were to be married the next day, and the entire crew of the Pharaon, Snape, Moody, Flitwick, and Harry were their as well. Arthur Weasley was sitting beside his son, who was next to Hermione.

"You must be very happy Hermione, or should I call you Mrs. Weasley?" Moody asked.

"That is not my name yet, and I think it is bad luck to call the bride by her sweetheart's name before the wedding."

"Oh, nonsense." Moody replied, hiccupping from the alcohol he had consumed.

"And you, Ron, what do you think of all your newfound happiness?" Snape asked warmly.

"That's just it. I cannot help thinking that it is not man's lot to attain happiness so easily. Good fortune is like the palaces in myth, guarded by dragons. Happiness could not be attained without first overcoming those dragons. I do not know how I deserved the honor of being Hermione's husband." Ron said, smiling wistfully.

"Act like her husband now and see how she treats you!" Moody shouted very loudly. Hermione merely blushed. Harry was in the corner starting at every sound he heard from outside. Suddenly there came a clamor of many men marching towards the feast. Armed police entered and approached the gathering.

"Which one of you is Ronald Weasley?"

Ron stepped forward. "I am, sir."

"Mr. Weasley, you are being arrested as being a suspect in returning Lord Voldemort to power. Please follow me." The entire crowd was stunned. Hermione looked as if she would faint. Ron saw this and soothed her.

"Don't worry darling, I'm sure this is a mistake and I'll return to you later on. Promise you'll wait for me?" Ron said, kissing Hermione on the cheek.

"Yes Ron, I'll wait for you always." Hermione replied, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ron wiped away her tears and then left with the police.

Ron was led to the prosecutor's office. The general prosecutor was out of town so his assistant, one Draco Malfoy, had to decide his fate. Draco was a slim young man with blond hair and a perpetual smirk on his face.

"Well, what is your name?"

"My name is Ronald Weasley, I am first mate on the Pharaon owned by Flitwick and Sons."

"And what were you doing prior to your arrest?"

"I was at my betrothal feast, sir."

"You were at your betrothal feast?" Draco said, shuddering, for he had just come from his own betrothal feast. Now he felt some pity for this young man.

"Yes sir, I am about to marry a woman I have loved for three years."

Draco was struck by the earnestness in the man's voice but hid his pity and carried on with his job. "I am told you have extreme political views, is this true?"

"No sir, I have never had extreme political views. I know nothing, for I am not destined to play any great role in life. The little I am and desire to be, I owe to the charity of Mr. Flitwick. My opinions, not political, but private, are limited to these three sentiments: I love my father, I respect Mr. Flitwick, and I adore Hermione. That is all I have to tell you, as you can see it is not very interesting.

"Well, no need to worry. I can see that you have been the victim of some foul plot. Have you any enemies?"

"No sir, I am respected by all who know me, unworthy though I am of this respect."

"Then I see no reason to detain you any longer. One more thing, who was the letter addressed to that you received?"

"To a Mr. Lucius Malfoy who lives in Paris." At this Draco panicked. Why must his father always get in his way? He couldn't let this get out, so then he decided upon the only option left to him.

"May I have the letter?" Ron handed it to him and he looked at it's contents. "This is rather serious evidence against you, but as you can see, here Malfoy tossed the letter into the fire, I've destroyed it. Now I'll have the police escort you to a waiting area until I've finalized your release."

"Oh, thank you sir! I am most pleased that I have an ally like you on my side." Ron said. Then he followed the officers into a tiny room. Malfoy left a note with instructions on what to do to Ron and left in a hurry.

Ron was whisked to a carriage around nighttime the next day. He wasn't worried because he had the utmost confidence in his prosecutor, who had not told him his name. The guards took him to a small boat docked at the harbor. They then shoved Ron into the boat and took off.

"Where are we going? Did my prosecutor tell you I am to be released?" he asked nervously.

"Yes, we have instructions to take care of you. As for were we are going, do you not know what is on that island?" the guard captain said, pointing to a huge black tower on an island up ahead.

"Azkaban?" Ron said. "But, I have done nothing wrong, surely there must be a mistake?"

"No mistake, we have orders from the prosecutor." As soon as he heard this Ron struggled to get out of the boat and swim to shore but was stopped by the feeling of cold metal on the back of his skull. One of the guards held a pistol to his head. Coming up to Azkaban, one could see the decay and unclean nature of this prison. Ron was led down into a dirty cell with no bed or toilet, just a pile of straw in the corner. Ron tried to bolt for the door but he was kicked down to the floor.

"Now if you cooperate, we might give you some books or even let you walk around in the exercise yard, but if you keep this up, we'll through you to the dungeons."

"If you do not release me this instant, I will kill you with my bare hands."

The guard didn't respond. Instead he took a club and started beating Ron. Then they dragged him down to the dungeons. Just before Ron passed out he heard the guard say something to one of his fellows.

"We must put madmen with madmen."

Yes, they're right, they must put madmen with madmen, Ron thought and then passed out.

When Ron woke up, he couldn't see anything. He was in a world of darkness. He could only tell the passing of time because he was given a meal once a day. It was usually cold stew with maggoty bread but he had to eat. After weeks of this Ron began to despair. He cursed man and howled at his jailers, who didn't care. Then Ron started to curse God, who he had prayed to for so long, but had received only silence. Then, one month Ron realized something. His life could be thrown away as easily as a piece of garbage. So he started to starve himself. After 5 days of doing this, Ron knew he was almost dead. He laid his head to the floor and waited for death. Then, he heard something. A tiny clacking sound that sounded like someone digging towards his cell from below. With a new determination, Ron started eating again, so he could at least see who this fellow prisoner was digging towards him. Ron tried to help by digging towards the noise, but he could barely make any progress without any tools. Ron went to sleep, determined to live and not throw away his life.

Two weeks later and the prisoner had almost reached Ron's cell. "Oh God, don't leave me in this despair." Ron cried out. Just then a voice answered Ron from the floor.

"Who speaks of God and despair in the same sentence?" Then a section of the prison floor pushed up and a man came out. He was very thin and had a long white beard. His eyes twinkled as they beheld Ron and the dungeon cell. In his eyes Ron could sense an incredible strength that lay hidden.

"I'm Ron Weasley. What is your name, sir?" Ron asked.

"Albus Dumbledore. What year is it?"

"As much as I can tell, it's 1825."

"Now all my hopes of escape are ruined. I do not have the strength to continue digging towards another exit. But how did you end up in this unfortunate place?"

Ron then told him his story. Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, it seems to me that you were framed. And from what you've told me about your life I know who the culprits are."

"Tell me who they were." Ron asked, eyes burning with rage.

"Your prosecutor, whose name you didn't know, is Draco Malfoy, the son of the man who your letter was addressed to. He is just as guilty as the other three, Snape, Moody, and Harry…what was his last name?"

"Potter." Ron said angrily.

"And now I've sown the seeds of vengeance in your mind. I am sorry for revealing the names of those men to you." Ron brushed away his anger for the moment and asked Dumbledore to teach him all he knew about life and the world. Albus agreed and soon the two formed a father son relationship. Ron quickly mastered all he was taught and the two began to dig another tunnel towards freedom. After doing this for 3 and a half years they were almost ready to escape. Ron was hurrying towards Dumbledore's cell when he heard the old man cry out in pain. Ron rushed towards him and saw that his body was racked with tremors and shakes. After the attack Dumbledore beckoned Ron over to listen to him.

"I am going to die within the next couple of hours. Before that I need to give you my greatest treasure." Then he gave Ron a parchment with one half burned off. "Before I was imprisoned I was the tutor to a Count Spada. He had bequeathed to me the location of his family's fortune on his deathbed. It was hidden on the island of Monte Cristo. Go there and use the treasure as you see fit." Then Dumbledore started coughing.

"Hold on, your not going to die. You'll live and we'll escape together." Ron said.

"No, my time is now at its end. Farewell, my son." Then Dumbledore's body was wracked with seizures and he died. Ron stayed with him until he felt Albus's hand go limp. Returning to his cell, Ron waited until his guard came and checked on him. Then he went back to Dumbledore's cell and took his corpse. He hid it in his cell and went to Dumbledore's funeral shroud. Getting inside, he waited for the guards to come and bury him. The guards came in and lifted him up.

"The old madman feels a bit heavier than he looks, doesn't he?" one on the guards said.

"Yeah, but that's what happens when you die. Remember to throw this one far. We don't want the warden to yell at us again for letting another body hit the rocks." The other replied. Ron then felt a weight attached to his foot and then he was flung off a cliff into the ocean. Azkaban had no need for cemeteries it seemed. Ron started to scream but was cut off by the ocean.

As soon as he hit the water, Ron grabbed the knife he had brought with him and sliced the rope off his legs. He swam a long way from the prison until he saw an island. Swimming towards the island, Ron was about to pass out when he felt a pair of strong arms lift him up and into a boat.

"What did you grab their, Neville?" the captain of the smuggling vessel asked his first mate.

"Looks like a castaway to me. Remember that boat that sank last night? I'd wager that this man was on that ship." Ron quickly got up and looked around.

"Your right, good sir, I was indeed on that ship. My captain and crewmates all drowned and I fear I am the only survivor. I ask to be allowed on your ship. I can pilot a ship as well as any first mate. Will you have me?"

The captain was a shrewd man, but he was caught off guard by this man's confidence and daring. "Alright, you can stay on this ship. We're heading towards the mainland. Have you sailed there?"

"Yes, sir, I've sailed there many times. Oh, what year is it?" Ron asked.

"Why would you want to know?" Neville asked suspiciously.

"Due to the storm and wreck last night, I temporarily lost my senses."

"It's the year 1828." Neville said. It had been 13 years since he had last seen the sky. He had gone into Azkaban at 19, he was now 32.

The next day when they reached the shore, Ron went straight to the barber to get his hair cut. When he looked into the mirror he was shocked. His eyes had turned dark, now longer the sky blue they had been and his skin was pale, with no freckles on his skin. His face had adopted a look of deep suffering and pain. His hair was still red. He asked the barber to dye it black. Now no one would ever mistake Ronald Weasley for the man now sitting in front of the mirror. Over the next six months Ron learned the trade of the smugglers and the captain as well as the crew loved him. One night the captain told the crew they were heading towards the island of Monte Cristo to meet a client. Ron hid his eagerness and waited.

When the smugglers landed on Monte Cristo, everything was going smoothly until Ron injured himself. He had fallen and twisted his back, he told them. He couldn't be moved or else the pain would kill him. At least that's what he said. Ron suggested that they go on without him and leave a gun and some powder along with a tent to sleep in. All the sailors wanted to stay with him but he waved them off. As soon as the ship was out of sight Ron got up and followed the instructions to find the treasure. Dumbledore had made him memorize it before burning the map. Coming to the chamber Ron started chipping away at the dirt until he found the treasure. There were 10 chests in all and in each chest were three compartments. One had diamonds, the other gold coin, and the last had rubies and emeralds. Ron wanted to shout for joy. How did such a treasure ever end up in his hands? Taking a few diamonds with him, Ron covered up the treasure and waited until the smugglers came back to get him. As soon as he back in Marseilles, Ron purchased a ship and gave each smuggler a diamond. When asked where he got this wealth, Ron replied that his rich uncle had left him an inheritance. The crew bought this explanation due to Ron's intelligence and manner. Then Ron gave Neville instructions to seek out what happened to his father, Hermione, and his enemies. When Ron had transferred all the treasure to his private boat, he waited for Neville.

The news that he received was bitter. His father had died of hunger a year after they had put him in prison. Hermione had married Harry shortly after that and Malfoy, Snape, and Moody were all rich. Ron could now set his plan into motion. But first he had to create an identity for himself.

1 year later…

Alastor Moody was terrified. He had gone to meet a client and had been attacked by bandits. Now he was being led to their leader. The man who he was dragged before was very tall and had dark hair and piercing dark eyes. They seemed to be able to see into his soul.

"What are you going to do to me?" Alastor asked, fear showing plainly in his eyes.

"We are not going to do anything to you. What is happening tonight is merely what you sowed yourself, 14 years ago."

"I don't know what your talking about. Back then I was a mere landlord, not some criminal."

"You had a tenant named Arthur Weasley, did you not?"

"Yes, but I did nothing to him."

"Oh, but you did. You refused to aid him when he was starving to death. His poverty was directly caused by you. Don't try to deny it. So, now you are going to experience what it's like to starve, to beg for food and finally die alone and unheeded, surrounded by men who call themselves righteous but are really hypocrites unwilling to help one of their own." Then Moody was stripped of all his belongings and knocked out. The men kept him in a cage for 3 weeks and he was given nothing to eat. The only thing they gave him was water. Dragging him out of the cage one night the took him to the poorest section of town and left him in the dirt. The leader stayed behind.

"One more thing, I've frozen all your assets, every means you have. You are no longer Alastor Moody, the banker. Now you are a poor, homeless wretch. Despair and die." The man with the dark eyes said.

"Who are you?" Moody croaked.

"Ronald Weasley, and you were the first." Then he took off in his carriage. The next day, he returned to see what had happened to Moody. Then he saw a corpse hanging from a tree. It was Moody, who had been unwilling to beg to live and had taken the cowards way out. Ron took a note and placed it on the corpse.

2 months later…

Draco Malfoy was at home reading the paper when his valet entered and said he had a visitor.

"Who is it?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo, my lord."

"Show him in then." The valet bowed and in walked the count. He was very tall and had pale skin. His eyes were the most striking part about his features.

"Hello, Count. I received your message and you want prison records regarding one Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes, sir, you see I was raised and educated by this man when I was a child. Just recently I heard he had been imprisoned and I wanted to know what happened to him."

"I'm afraid he has passed away."

"I would like to buy his prison records from you."

"I can't allow that. It's against regulations." Malfoy said.

"I will give you 1 million francs."

Malfoy was stunned. That much money for prison records about a nobody, it was unheard of. "Of course, there have been special cases and this is another. Let me take you to the records and you can pick it out for yourself." The count bowed and followed Malfoy. Draco led him to the records room and allowed him privacy in picking it out, his mind was still stunned by all the money he was going to make. As soon as Malfoy left, the Count picked out both Dumbledore's records and those pertaining to Ron Weasley. Pocketing both, he returned to the study.

"Thank you, I found what I needed. I also would like to invite you to meet me at the public sauna at 3:00. Will you come?"

Malfoy thought over this and decided to go. Maybe he could get more money out of this man who seemed to be the personification of gold. "Yes, Count, I will be there."

"Thank you, I will see you later on in the day. Goodbye." After he left, Malfoy went into his private chambers and counted his money.

Around 3:00 Malfoy came to the public sauna. It was an enormous building were men of high society met to talk and make business deals. Coming to the entrance, he was ushered in to a massive bath area. Steam was everywhere and he couldn't see anything.

"Welcome, Lord Malfoy." The count said, with a smile on his lips.

"You certainly know how to scare someone, Count."

"I'm sorry I frightened you. How is your father?"

"My father died a while ago."

"Ah, yes, I remember he killed himself."

"Why would you want to know about my father?"

"No reason, I just think it odd that a man as respected in society as Lucius Malfoy would end his life so suddenly, don't you?"

"No, people kill themselves all the time."

"I've heard it said that you killed him. Yes, you poisoned him at your house and while he was wandering home you followed and pushed him into the river."

"How dare you! I am reporting you to the police."

"Would you like to know how I know about your father?"

"You are making it up." Just then another figure stepped out of the steam. It was Lucius Malfoy. Draco started backing away from his father like he was a devil from hell. "You should be dead. The poison alone should have killed you. How are you still alive?"

Lucius smiled. "Why son, while I was in the river, the count dragged me out and administered an antidote to the poison." Draco turned towards the count with wide eyes.

"Who are you?" The count got right next to Draco and whispered in his ear.

"A ghost of Ronald Weasley." Just then, a cadre of police officers burst in.

"We heard everything said, Mr. Malfoy, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Lucius Malfoy." Draco snapped and was screaming about ghosts all the way to the carriage. Lucius had gone with the police officers leaving Ron alone.

"Only two more left."

3 weeks later…

Severus Snape had just received an invitation to come to a party hosted by the Count of Monte Cristo. He had no idea who the count was but he was obviously a man of some means if he could afford the house were the party was at. Later that night, he summoned his carriage and went to the Count's house. It was a sprawling mansion with beautiful ice sculptures in all kinds of shapes and sizes. Throngs of people were already there from the highest echelons of society. Foremost among these elite was Harry Potter and his beautiful wife, Hermione. Harry was a very rich merchant who had gotten lucky in speculation and tripled his already prestigious fortune. Snape was also rich, but he was the head of a shipping company. Just then a footman appeared at the top of the staircase and announced in a loud voice: His Excellency, The Count of Monte Cristo.

Then the Count appeared. He was dressed in black and did not have any jewelry on his person. But he seemed to be more regal than all the other men in the room combined. He had shoulder length dark hair and dark eyes. His skin was very pale, as if he hadn't been in the sun for a long time. As he walked down the stairs, his eyes roved about the room taking the measure of each person. Then he came up to Serverus and Harry.

"It is a pleasure to meet gentleman such as you. Thank you for accepting my invitation to my humble abode." Then he turned to the other guests of the evening. Snape and Harry went away to talk about business, leaving Hermione alone. She turned a bit pale when she had first seen the count and she couldn't figure out why. The count saw her sitting alone and came up to her.

"Forgive me, madam, it seems I overlooked you." He took her hand and kissed it. Then he looked into her eyes. "I had heard rumors that you were beautiful, but in truth you are far more beautiful. Are you alright, you seem a bit pale."

"No, count, I'm fine. It's just you remind me of someone I knew a long time ago. Forgive me but are you married?"

The count smiled at her as if she had told an amusing joke. "No, I am not. At one time I was betrothed to someone, but I lost her. Do you want to come see my garden? It's quite beautiful at night."

Hermione turned even paler. "Yes...I'd like that very much." The count took her arm and led her outside. They came to a gazebo and they sat down. Hermione turned towards the count.

"Is it really you, Ron?"

The count looked at her with blazing eyes. When he spoke, it was a whisper.

"Yes, it's me, Mione." Hermione threw her arms around him and started crying into his chest.

"Your father wanted me to tell you something. He asked me to tell you that he blesses you and is waiting in heaven. Where did they take you?" Ron stroked her hair and a single tear fell down his face. Then he removed some paper he had in his pocket and gave it to Hermione. It was his criminal record. As she read it, even more tears came to her eyes.

"As you can see, I was falsely imprisoned and held against my will for 13 years. But I never knew that you had married Harry or that my father was dead and that he had died of hunger!" Now Ron was livid. "I bought this for 1 million francs but I consider that cheap as it allows me to justify myself before you. I will have my revenge on those people who stole our happiness."

"Ron, I'm sorry. Forgive me, after your father died I was distraught and had given up hope of ever seeing you again. Harry came and asked me to marry him. But I never loved him. Then, when we were married he started abusing me. He threatened to kill me if I left."

Just then there came a commotion from the house. Policeman were dragging Snape away and into a carriage. He was howling that he didn't do anything.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked.

"Snape is going to jail for the murder of Alastor Moody. He'll be executed shortly." The guests started leaving the party and soon there was only Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Hermione went into the house and then Harry came up to her.

"There you are Hermione. Why are you crying?" Harry said.

"I'm leaving you Harry, goodbye." Harry smacked her across the face sending her flying to the ground.

"You bitch, I'll have you flayed alive. If I can't have you no one will." Harry said. He started towards Hermione again with his hand raised. Just then a gunshot rang out and Harry fell to his knees, blood pouring from his shoulder. Ron walked into the room with a smoking pistol held in his left hand and a sword in his right. He had removed his dye and was now striding towards Harry with murderous intent in his eyes.

"That's the last time you ever hurt Mione." Then he shot Harry in the leg. Ron kept walking towards him. "Do you know what it was like in that pit you threw me into, Harry? I wanted to kill myself but the thought of vengeance kept me going. You stole my father from me, you took my wife, and you took my freedom. And now I'm going to send you to Hell!" Ron said, raising his sword. Then Hermione jumped between them.

"Don't Ron. Don't become something your not. Your father wouldn't want you to do this. I don't want you to do this. Haven't you done enough already?" Hermione pleaded, tears falling down her face. Ron dropped both his weapons. Harry grabbed the sword in a flash.

"You're too soft, Ron." Harry said, and stabbed through Hermione trying to kill Ron. Blood came out of Hermione's mouth and she sank to the ground. Ron was stabbed with the tip of the sword and he fell to the floor. Just as Harry was about to finish him off, another gunshot rang out. Neville stepped out from the shadows and he ran towards Ron and Hermione. The last thing Ron saw was Hermione, slowly bleeding to death and then he passed out.

7 years later…

The watchtower on the island of Monte Cristo sighted the yacht as it pulled into the harbor. On board was the Count and his wife, along with their son. After docking, Ron stayed behind and took one last look at the sun sinking below the horizon. His life had been full of pain and suffering but now it was all over and he could live in peace with Hermione, just as he'd always wanted.