The day that I married Ron Weasley was the day I finally lost my mind. I watched my mother smile, thinking that we were so good together, and my dad and Remus laughing and talking, both so happy that I finally found someone to love.
Only Sirius looked at me with a sad, understanding look on his face. Only he knew about the names screamed (not mine, never mine) when we made love.
No, not made love, fucked. Because that was all it was. Sex. There was no emotion in it, at lease not for me. And when we fucked, it wasn't my face he saw.
It was hers. Hermione. She had died in the war, and Ron had settled for the next best thing, I guess. Soft, glimmering green eyes turned to everyone after they kissed.
They all assumed that the tears were from happiness. It would be forever before they realized that she had finally realized that she couldn't go back.
Barely a year later they had a beautiful red haired, green eyed girl that looked exactly like her grandmother. She had learned early in life that mommy didn't like it when daddies female friends were brought up, especially the ones that went into his room.
I hated the fact that I didn't love my baby, but every time I looked at her, I saw all the women that could be carrying Ron's children too.
And it hurt. God, how it hurt. But I ignored the articles published that clearly stated that he was an adulterer, and I ignored the smell of perfume (Not mine) on the bed sheets, and I ignored the lipstick smeared on his face.
Molly was horrified, not only by what her son had done, but also by my complete willingness to ignore it.
She didn't realize that my willingness was simply a survival effort and that if I had any choice in it at all, that I would have already confronted and divorced him.
She didn't realize that I was having trouble separating reality from fantasy. A problem I'd had only from my wedding on. But no, I could never tell anyone.
They would make me leave my beautiful lie, and then where would I be? In some ridiculous mental facility, with Ron free to divorce me and take my baby away. No, I could never let that happen. Not now, not ever.
I began to observe Ron more closely, and I didn't like what I saw. He thought that he was being sneaky, but I saw what he was doing.
He was going to tell everyone that I was crazy, and divorce me so he wouldn't have to sneak around with all of his tramps anymore. I simply couldn't allow that to happen.
I didn't use my wand, after all, wouldn't want my magical signature to be traced back to me. No, I grabbed a knife, and while he was fucking his little tramp on the ground of some muggle park, I killed them both.
He could never take anything away from me now! No one knew it was me. Everyone was properly sympathetic at his funeral, as well as indigent.
After all, he had been fucking someone (Not me) as he was killed. I choked on my laughter later that night, and when my baby came in, I didn't see anyone but her.
Years later, my baby married a black haired young man who had lost the love of his life. Unlike my mother, I was crying, and I knew that Maria Lillian Potter knew why.
After all, the reason mothers cry at weddings is because their daughters marry men like their fathers.