Chapter 3: There Will Never Be Anyone Else

The years slowly passed. Ron entered the Auror Corps alongside Harry, and eventually trained under him, as his best friend rose quite rapidly through the ranks and eventually took over the entire Department.

Harry and Ginny got married, and many of the surviving Weasley children got married and began to have families. Only Ron and Charlie did not wed - Charlie due to his work with dragons, Ron due to steadfast faithfulness. Instead, Ron wore Hermione's picture around his neck, inside the locket that had once been Voldemort's Horcrux, now purged of its Dark Magic past and meticulously repaired.

Molly Weasley watched the singleness of her second-oldest and second-youngest sons with growing concern, with her worry fixed particularly on Ron. For every Thanksgiving and Christmas, she would invite Ron and Charlie to join in with their growing, extended brood to celebrate the holidays. And every holiday, she would drop not-so-subtle hints and comments about wanting more grandchildren, wanting more "ladies in the house" as she eyed Ron and Charlie pointedly.

She was in rare form, one Easter Sunday, commenting on Harry's daughter, Lily's, Easter dress. "How pretty you look in that lovely blue hat, my dear! If only there were more cousins to play with you..." And her eyes swiveled to Ron's.

From the other end of the table, Ron scowled, nursing his butterbeer. Despite the faded jumper across his chest, the winds were changing, the air growing warmer, he could feel it. Yup, winter was on the wing, and he felt the sting of dread, even now. Of all the Weasley holidays, Easter was the worst for him; Ron would go through the Sunday meal barely saying ten words, tops. Gathering Lily onto his lap, Harry side-eyed his brother-in-law nervously.

Ron snorted. "You've got all the grandbabies you're going to get, Mum. They'll be none from me."

"Nor me!" Charlie piped up, beaming as he ruffled Lily's red hair. Charlie seemed more content in his decision to never have a family, as he did not want to part with his beautiful dragons.

But Molly refused to leave it alone. "Honestly, Ron, I can't understand why you won't at least go on a date! You're an eligible bachelor, still have time to sow your oats. At least you could take a wife!"

That did it. Ron slammed an open palm on the table as he sprang out of his chair, overturning it with a clatter. "Mum, I had a wife! A wife who's been dead in the ground for sixteen years this very day!"

The entire table fell into shocked silence. Molly's face went ashen, and she nearly dropped the plate she was holding. Harry pursed his mouth in a taut line, bouncing Lily as she began to whimper, startled by her uncle's explosive temper.

"You... you were married?" Molly whispered. She knew - as did all the adults in the room - exactly who Ron was referring to.

Ron laughed bitterly. "For all of ten minutes! Harry married us on the beach, and I had to watch... helplessly... as my bride - the love of my life - died in my arms! So no, Mother, I'm never marrying again, because they will never be anyone else like her!"

"Ten minutes is hardly a marriage!" Molly suddenly blurted out, scoffing. "And if Harry married you, then he wasn't ordained! That wedding couldn't be real!" Ginny gasped in dramatic horror, clapping her hands over Lily's ears.

Ron's one eye ticked, twitched, as he gaped at his mother in disbelief. "Merlin damn you..." he whispered dangerously. His voice shook. "I would think long and hard about what you just said to me! Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go see my wife." And he stormed out of the house to stunned silence. Molly immediately rounded on her son-in-law.

"You knew! You knew all along and you never told us?"

"It was never my place to tell you, Molly," Harry shook his head sadly. "It was the wee hours of the morning... she was dying... Hermione asked me to do it, so they gave their vows. I transfigured some rings out of sand, they kissed and that was that. Hermione died minutes later."

Some of the older grandkids, like Teddy Lupin and Victoire and Dominique, had their mouths dropped open in horrified shock. Uncle Harry rarely, if ever, spoke of his youth, his time as a wizarding solider and hero, tracking down and killing Voldemort. And Uncle Ron had never before mentioned having a wife, or any significant other of any sort.

Ginny's entire face was white. "How could you not tell me...?" She gasped. "So that's what the ring on his ring finger is!"

"Wow, Gin-Gin, good job!" George sneered. "How long did it take you to figure that one out?"

"George, shut up!" Harry snapped. Ginny went for George.

"You knew too?"

"No. But have I always suspected? Yes."

The dunes behind the darkened windows of his brother's house were windswept as Ron finally emerged on the crest of the hill, a bouquet of roses in his hand. Roses had always been her favorite flower.

None of the family except for Harry knew it, but Ron came here every year on the anniversary of her death. April 15th. The date just so happened to fall on Easter Sunday this year, only exacerbating his shortness at the family dinner table.

Gently, Ron laid the roses besides the headstone. It was white marble, still shining underneath a thin layer of grime; he would have to return with supplies and clean it, he'd done that before. Kneeling, sitting back on his calves, he contemplated the love of his life, freezing silent, remembering.

"Hey, love..." he said quietly, a small smile gracing his lips. "How's your Easter been? Mum went mental cooking tonight... our nieces and nephews are getting so big! Harry's little girl reminds me of you a little bit." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Funny, I know, considering you two don't share any genes. Makes me wonder... what our little girl would have been like." He sighed heavily. "I miss you, Hermione. I'm still keeping my vows to you, and then some. Goodbye, my darling wife. And thank you."

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a POP! Bill, Fleur, Louis and the girls must be getting home. Ron quickly turned on the spot and despite not wanting to see his mother at the moment, Disapparated back to the Burrow.

He returned to find most of the family gone, his parents apparently having retired to bed. Only Harry, Ginny, James, Albus and Lily remained, the middle child asleep in his mother's arms and James barely able to stand up.

"You're coming home with us tonight," Ginny insisted to her brother. "I won't have you in that flat all alone on Easter."

Knowing better than to argue with his sister, Ron nodded. There was a rustling as James finally gave in to sleep, and Harry scooped his first-born into his arms.

The five Potters and Ron emerged through the Floo into their Godric's Hollow home. Harry and Ginny went upstairs to put their sons to bed; Lily was still wide awake, though she was far quieter than normal. Ron guided her into the kitchen, and prepared two cups of tea for them. Uncle and niece regarded each other for a long time across the table, over the rims of their mugs, the awkward silence finally broken when Harry and Ginny came back downstairs. Ginny busied herself at the counter to make a late-night snack. However, she was quickly distracted by Harry spooning her from behind.

"Harry! You tease!" But she accepted her husband's kiss. Ron observed Lily watching her parents closely, almost curiously. He knew Harry and Ginny didn't mean anything bad by indulging in a public display of affection, so he kept quiet. At last, Lily's eyes - an unnerving and inexplicably inherited set of chocolate brown - fixed on the blue orbs of her uncle.

"Uncle Ron?"

"Yes, my dear?" Ron's smile crinkled with age, tiredly. He couldn't help it. Lily was his favorite Potter, even more than her father - had had Ron wrapped around her little finger since the day she was born.

"Why don't you have someone to kiss you the way Mummy kisses Daddy?"

Ron's eyes briefly hovered over his sister and best friend, then away.

"I did, love... once."

"Your wife," Lily probed. It was a statement, not a question. Clearly, she remembered the explosion at dinner. A slight pause, before she continued in a small voice. "Was she my Auntie?"

Ron nodded painfully. "She would have been." He was certain of it.

Lily frowned. "What happened to her?"

No, No, No, No, NOOOOOO!... Hold me. One more time... A daughter who died!... LIVE FOR HER! THAT IS WHAT SHE WOULD WANT!... I don't blame the werewolf, Ron!... And anyone who ever cared about her at all wouldn't just sit here, and do nothing!... The love of my life, our best mate, is dead, and it's because of that monster... that monster... that monster...

Ron shook himself out of the sounds and memories assaulting him. He knew he couldn't tell a six-year-old the whole truth, especially when Lily was now looking at him with growing concern. The kitchen had grown quiet. So, he decided to keep it true, but vague.

"She... she died, honey. A long time ago, before you were born."

Lily considered this for a moment. Then floated: "Well, maybe you could get me another Auntie!"

"Lily!" Harry whispered harshly. But Ron held up a hand to silence him.

"I don't think so, Lily Bear. Sometimes..." he struggled to find the words. "Sometimes... when a Mummy and a Daddy are in love - when they're really in love - and one of them... goes to heaven, it is hard to find another person to love that much. Oh, it happens sometimes... but it's very hard. Your Auntie was my soulmate."

Lily frowned. "What's a soulmate? Did it mean Auntie was very pretty?"

Ron chuckled. "Oh, Lily... she was beautiful."

"All right, little lady!" Ginny cut the conversation short as she scooped Lily up. "Time for you to join your brothers and go to sleep."

"Aw, Mum!" But Lily allowed herself to be carried away, leaving Harry and Ron alone.

There was a long silence between the two best friends. At last, Harry spoke.

"I'm sorry about Lily."

"It's OK."

"Um... thank you. For talking to her about it and treating her like an adult. And... and you know something?" Ron finally met Harry's gaze to see that he was peering at him curiously. He looked almost... encouraged. "You didn't break down once. That's the first time I've seen you talk about Hermione in years without crying."

Ron's brow furrowed. "What are you saying, mate?"

Harry shrugged. "That you're healing. Just a little bit. I know... you'll never get over it. Believe me, I won't either. She was like my sister. But... maybe now you can live your life. Move on. And if moving on for you means you don't get married again, you don't get married again. I think it's sweet, that you're still honoring her."

Slowly, Ron smiled. "Yeah..."

It was beautiful late summer's day, about five months later, as Ron crossed the crest of the familiar dune, this time, with a guest.

"Why are we carrying balloons with parchment on them, Uncle Ron?" Lily asked, holding one balloon and her uncle's hand in her free grasp.

Ron's body bobbed alongside the second balloon he himself carried as he chuckled. "You'll see, Lily Bear."

Uncle and niece halted in front of a headstone of white marble. Dropping Lily's hand, Ron took out his wand, and aimed it at the headstone. With great care, he etched two new words into its face, so that when he was done, the headstone now read:

Hermione Jean Granger Weasley

Beloved daughter, friend and wife

September 19th, 1979 - April 15th, 1998

Lily wiped back tears from her brown eyes. Stepping forward, she pressed a kiss to the headstone. "Sleep well, Auntie. Uncle Ron loves you."

Ron smiled down at her. "You ready?"

Lily grinned. "Yeah."

And together, they released the two balloons into the air.

The first balloon carried a letter for Mr. and Mrs. Granger. For years, Ron had kept tabs from afar on Hermione's parents, and when they had passed away - apparently within weeks of each other - this past July, Ron had sat down and written Hermione's parents a personal letter, telling them all about his love for, and all-too-brief marriage to, their only daughter. He hoped they would get it in the afterlife as the Grangers, and not as Wendell and Monica Wilkins.

The second balloon carried a parchment addressed to Hermione. And this is what Ron had written:

My sweet, dearest love,

Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of you. And though the pain of losing you has dulled, the pain will always be there. You, my darling wife, are someone whom I could never forget nor replace. One day soon, Hermione, I will leave this Earth still a widower, faithful in our wedding vows given to you, and only you. Yours is the first face I wish to see and kiss when I reach whatever is after this existence. Eternal life, with you. But I can wait for it. Merlin knows you waited for me, longer than you should have. Patience, my precious. I will see you again.

All my love, your husband,

Ron