Disclaimer: We said we'd take little time
For both of us to see
And wonder what it'd be like to carry on
Yeah, I know I got crazy
Well I guess that's just me
If I could turn back time before the wrong...
Brand New Day by Forty Foot Echo
I'm not sure if that excerpt I put at the end of Living in Sin will actually be in this story. I wrote it thinking of a different storyline for this story. I'll try to fit it in, but don't count on it!
Ron had managed to guide her to the end of the bed and now they were both just sitting there, neither having any idea of what to say. Hermione turned to say something but stopped herself, turning away again. There was more silence before she finally spoke.
"Why did you leave?" she asked. She felt Ron stiffen beside her and watched as he stood up and crossed to the window. She watched as several emotions flooded his face, the most prominent one pain. She stood and went over to him and touched his arm. He looked down at her, his eyes roving over her face. She was still beautiful, even though now, her eyes lacked something. Well, many things he used to see. They didn't have that spark. That fire that always took his breath away. That fire had died years ago. He pulled away from her, not knowing how to say it.
"I..." he sighed with frustration, undoing his ponytail and then putting it back in place, pacing.
"Ron..." she whispered. He stopped and looked up at her, his eyes filled with unbearable pain.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured. Hermione froze.
"What?" Ron looked away.
"I never wanted to..." Hermione was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable. What was he talking about? she asked silently.
"I don't understand," she said. Ron looked up to her, the deepest look of sorrow on his face.
"When I heard your voice... I knew I had to leave... I couldn't face you..." Hermione felt a cold chill sweep down her back as she watched him struggle to speak.
"Ron... What happened?" she asked, her voice soft and scared.
"I... your mother..." He took a step away from her. "I'm so sorry..."
"Ron! What did you do?" she begged, wanting this torture to end. Wanting him to stop it. Finally his lifeless blue eyes stared into her fearful brown ones. He then spoke four words and four words only.
"I killed your father..." For a moment, Hermione just stared at him, frozen by those words. She then forced a smile on her face.
"Tell me that's not true..." she begged. Upon seeing the helpless look on his face she stopped. Her eyes gave away nothing. Ron couldn't stand the silence. He wanted something. Anything. He wanted her to hit him. Curse him. Spit at him and destroy him. Pull out his heart, burn him and then laugh at his grave. Denounce that she ever knew him, scream at him. Anything but this torturing silence. This maddening silence that nearly drove him insane. This isn't what he wanted from her. This isn't the reaction he wanted. She looked down, still trying to contemplate the enormity of Ron's revelation.
"Hermione say something..." he pleaded, watching her grow a sickly pale. Her hand flew to her mouth.
"I'm going to be sick," she cried, shoving past him and running into the bathroom. The door slammed shut and her upheavels could be heard through the door. Ron could feel the cold sweat run down his face as his knees gave out, crashing ont the bed. Sitting there, he stared at the ground as the memory came to him, forcing him to replay that night.
"Please! Leave him be!" Mrs. Granger pleaded, watching her husband wither in pain from the curse. She was helpless, gazing through the bars as they slowly killed him, trying to get any information from him as they went. Voldemort grinned, watching the spectacle from his platform above.
Ron observed this from the confines of his mind, Voldemort controlling him. He saw everything. He could feel Voldemort's hatred. His desire to kill. His evil coarsed through Ron's veins like poison. Then the command came.
NO! YOU CANT! he silently screamed as he felt himself move forward. THIS IS HERMIONE'S DAD! he screamed. Voldemort only smiled as Ron's hand rose, the wand at the ready. Emotionlessly, he spoke the fatal words and watched in horror as Mr. Granger fell, the look on his face forever ingrained in Ron's memory. He had stared into the eyes of his victim... he had seen the innocence and head destroyed it with out so much as a flinch. Suddenly it was as if something released him. Ron gasped, backing up slightly.
"Ron!" he heard someone call. Deatheaters began to move at the sound. "Ron! Where are you?!" HERMIONE! Ron looked down at the body. It hadn't been a dream. He looked through the mask that protected him from being identified as Harry and Hermoine burst out of the corridor, wands ready. Ron was stuck. He knew what he should do, but could he really do it? He looked down at the body once more before someone grabbed his arm. Another deatheater.
"You're not going anywhere," the man growled. Ron struggled, both fighting against one another. They tumbled to the ground and then there was a painful crack.
Ron shook his head. The rest of that memory had been a decietful trick. A vile plan that lead the whole world to believe that Ronald Bilius Weasley had died an honorable death when in truth he lived on... a coward. The thing that really bother him though was Hermione's fast exodus. She hadn't screamed. She hadn't said much. Had she changed so much? Had she really lost her old quirks? Her gusto? He looked up to see Hermione exit the bathroom. He stood up.
"Hermione-"
"Stay away from me," she growled, backing up to the other door to the hallway.
"Hermione please," he begged. She shook her head, slipping out the door. He could hear her run down the stairs and he closed his eyes. "God... what have I done?" he prayed.
Everyone looked up to see Hermione appear, stumbling down the stairs. Mrs. Weasley took in her distraught figure and swollen eyes and stood.
"Hermione! What happened?" Hermoine let out a sob.
"He killed him... he KILLED HIM!" she screamed. Mr. Granger frowned.
"Who? Who killed who?" he asked, afraid of the answer.
"RON KILLED MY FATHER!" she shrieked. Everyone gasped and looked up at the stairs. Ron killed Hermione's father... Ginny's hand went to her mouth.
"Oh my God... that's why he left..."
"Ron?" Pfeifer called after thanking Mrs. Weasley for showing her where Ron would be. Pfeifer was the only one brave enough to brave going up and seeing how Ron was. She spotted Ron sitting on the bed and went over to sit beside him. He didn't bother moving. He just sat their, not acknowledging her presence. She could see that he was torturing himself.
"So that's why you left..." she said. He didn't answer. She reached out to touch him but he pulled away.
"No..." he whispered. She frowned.
"Ron... you can't do this to yourself. You've kept this in for seven years. If you keep all those emotions in you... it's just going to keep hurting..." Ron didn't respond. She reached out again and this time he grabbed her hand, twisting it painfully away from him.
"I said no," he growled, standing up and moving to the window. She cradled her hand to her as she stood.
"Ron you can't-"
"SHUT UP!" he roared, whirling on her. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do!"
"Ron," she pleaded, fear evident in her voice. He shook his head, pointing to the door angrily.
"Did you see her? Did you!" he screamed. Pfeifer nodded, backing up fearfully. "You didn't see the look in her eyes... When we were in Hogwarts, I was the reason she cried at night... and now..." He trailed off, his eyes retaining their lifeless expression. He looked drained. Seven years of sleepless nights and horrifying nightmares showing in his eyes. He had run away from it all, hoping to leave behind his dark deed only to come back to something worse. He was now seeing the consequenses of his actions. Hermione. He had seen what his leaving had done to her. Ron leaned against the wall, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. Pfeifer watched his tortured soul constrict him in a vice. He wanted to die. He wanted to disappear. He wanted it all to end. He didn't want to live anymore. Not like this... not like this...
Hermione arrived home, tired and broken. How was it that just two hours ago, she was still under the impression that Ronald Weasley was dead? And the reason... Her heart constricted painfully, causing her to gasp as she staggered to her room. Luke was still at a meeting and the kids were with their grandmother.
Mom... she thought. Oh mum... how can I tell you that your dear husband wasn't killed by a deatheater but by a man we thought was dead... a man I thought I knew...
Hermione let out a sob and burried her face in her pillow. How was it that one man could cause so much damage to one woman? Just seeing him had hurt her. She remembered seeing him standing there with those beautiful blue eyes. Her heart had stopped beating for at least two seconds. It completely tore her apart to see him standing there. Why? Because for seven years she had spent her life believing that he was dead. Because after he had "died" she had given up on everything... seeing him there had brought back painful memories. Good and bad.
She had begged him to tell her that it wasn't true. She didn't want to believe that it was possible. Ron would never do something like that. But his eyes had given away the painful truth. That's when her gut began to churn, telling her that a trip to the bathroom was in order. That's when the anger came.
THE COWARD! He had run away without a single word! He had left her alone! And now he dared to come back. For what? She didn't want to think about it. It hurt to much. The fact that her father had died at the hand of a man that she trusted her life with was incomprehendible and unbearable.
Soon, Hermione fell asleep, her mind bombarding her with nightmares. Realities...
"I just can't believe it..." Fred said. He, George, Angelina, Ron's gang, Ginny and Harry were all sitting outside. After Pfeifer had come down with a bruised wrist, Molly and Arthur had insisted on going up themselves. The rest of the family was inside, speaking quietly.
"I don't think Hermione told us the whole thing... I don't think Ron would have done it voluntarily," Troy quipped, holding Pfeifer close. Angelina nodded, her fingers intertwined with Fred's.
"I can't begin to imagine what sort of torture Ron's been through to carry this for seven years without telling anyone!" Ginny said, eyes trained on Ron's old room. Harry turned to Gwinevere.
"He never told you anything?" he asked. George shifted.
"Why would Ron tell her something? No offence," he added, eyeing Gwinevere with interest. She shook her head.
"No offense taken... and no. He never wanted to talk about it. He'd always clam up or just switch the subject," she answered, her eyes trained on Harry. He frowned. Ginny gave his hand a squeeze.
"What's going to happen now?" she asked. Harry sighed.
"Who knows..." he said. Troy frowned and looked up at the window where they saw Ron pass by, obviously pacing.
"I wonder what's going to happen to Hermione?" Silence fell over the groupe and Troy looked around, confused.
"What?" he asked. Angelina spoke up.
"Well... you guys may have had Ron with you, but we certianly didn't have Hermione."
"What do you mean?" Ann finally asked, tired of just listening. Ginny answered her.
"Hermione never recovered from her father's death or from what we thought was Ron's. She became more distant and vunerable. She stopped caring. Ron's "death" left her heartbroken. Finding out that he killed her father isn't going to help them." Gwinevere looked at her intensly.
"How close were they?" she asked. Ginny looked up at the window.
"They never actually dated. It was more of a understanding. Since the war was going on, it was advised, especially for them and Harry not to have any "speacial interest". The tabloids would find out if there was a relationship going on, so Ron and Hermione just... winged it. Secret kisses and if they happened to find themselves alone, they would take advantage of the moment. But they were never together." Harry watched as Gwinevere took this information. She bit her lip and looked down, thinking hard. George however, wasn't as reserved as Harry. He had also noticed Gwinevere's manner towards Ron.
"Are you involved with our brother?" he asked curtly. Suprised, everyone stared at him. Ignoring them, he stared at her. She watched him carefully, then looked around at the expectant faces. She frowned.
"What makes you think we're involved?"
"You two were all over each other in Bulgaria," Harry blurted. Gwinevere truely looked shocked.
"Ron and I are just friends."
"Very close friends," her brother, Nicholai, piped up. Rolling her eyes, she shrugged.
"Sure, we get close like people who actually date, but trust me. Ron's not looking for a relationship me," she said. Her eyes found George's. "And I'm not looking for one with him..."
A/N: Oh the suspense! No really because that's not really a cliffie, but who cares.
Chapter Tease:
"Oh... hi," she greeted. Noticing his dress, or rather lack there of, she blushed, looking down at her tea. He watched her fumble over herself.
"You need help?" he asked. She looked up and then shook her head silently, pouring the hot substance into a cup.
"You want some?" she asked. He nodded, watching her take out another cup and pour some more. Putting in the sugar and cream, she handed it to him and watched him take a seat opposite him.
"Do you come here often?" she asked. He looked up and shook his head.
"No... just when we have days like this. I usually stay so that I can raid the kitchen without getting cursed by my mum for thinking I'm a prowler." She grinned, and he couldn't help but smile back.