A/N: Hmmm…I don't like either pairing at the end of Deathly Hallows…so I made my own…sorta.

Disclaimer: Deathly Hallows wouldn't have had an epilogue had I been JK. Seriously…that was pointless.

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She had a locked suitcase that she had packed up one day while he was out with his family sitting in a corner of their bedroom with a lock on it that he had tried to spell open several times. It was the biggest suitcase she owned, which was probably what worried Ron the most. She never spoke of it; it was as if it were empty, or maybe even invisible to her. Ron had hoped it to be empty, but he picked it up once, and it was like trying to pick up a house. When he asked her what was in it, she would look at him with a perplexed cloud hovering in her eyes.

"What makes you ask me that?" She would ask, airily, much reminding him of Luna, and he was almost sure that the blonde nitwit had traded bodies with his fiancé, but then she would rattle something off to Harry, Neville, or Dean—who was soon to join Luna in her search for her Nargles—but she never said anything to him or Ginny afterwards for at least twenty minutes.

Ron would stare at it some mornings, before he went to work, and well after Hermione had gone off to her University classes. He would wonder with a heavy heart when she would share the secrets of that suitcase, or if he was ever meant to see that part of his fiancé ever. She had been very secretive from him since the return of Harry from his metaphorical grave. She would barely tell him how her classes had gone during the day, after he came home from training. She would only be stirring her tea, drinking it with two spoonfuls of sugar, and no milk, reading over a copy of the Daily Prophet, which she had become entranced with since Rita Skeeter had been sent to Azkaban. She would read him most of the articles, while he cooked himself dinner (She had eaten hours earlier.), but he noticed after a while, she would never read any article with Harry in it to him.

About six months after he had come home to the mysterious and locked suitcase, he saw a flash of something silver while she was changing into her nightgown. He had stared at it for several second before he realized it was a key. A small key, to a small lock, a lock he realized belonged to a locked suitcase in the corner of their bedroom. He had asked her about the key that night, and once again she had given him a perplexed look, looking down at the key around her neck.

"Oh, this belongs to a locker at a Muggle gym I joined about six months ago." She said, just as airily as when he asked her about the suitcase itself. Then she gave him a small smile and a peck on the lips goodnight. That night he stared at her as she slept, a new thought entering his mind that maybe, just maybe she was leaving. But just as soon as he thought it, he shook it out of his mind. She loved him, and she would stay with him; he was sure. Though, he couldn't help wonder what was in the giant suitcase across the room. He tried for several nights to slip the chain that held the key over her head, but she had begun to sleep clutching the wretched silver key that held the secret to her secrets.

So it stayed locked for two years, sitting in that corner, collecting dust, staying locked. But there were no more odd happenings. Ron actually thought she was beginning to open up to him, again, but there was no denying that he still felt that aloof air about her when he tried to talk to her about anything too personal. The Muggle gym was strictly off limits, as were her classes, Harry Potter articles in the Prophet, and the fact that Harry would not give Kreacher up from his bounds as a house elf.

The suitcase actually faded to the very back of his mind. He lived life as he was meant to. He would leave to training, which turned into Auror raids. He came home to her sipping her tea, and reading the Daily Prophet. They would watch television, which Ron found absolutely entrancing on one end of the couch, and she which she would stare at emptily, having been used to it for many years. He felt that this strange phase in their life was over.

But one day, he came home…

…and she didn't.

He entered an empty house.

No tea.

No Daily Prophet.

No suitcase.

But as he entered further into his home, he heard the fire roar in the hearth, and his sister yell, "Ron!" His heart jumped. Perhaps Ginny was calling to tell him that she was just staying the weekend somewhere, and had been too busy to tell him. Or maybe, Hermione had been taken; there were still Death Eaters running around with a grudge. Or, or maybe, Hermione had been obliviated and was wandering the streets, and that that was where she had been found, running around with the only thing she felt safe with, her suitcase. But as he called out for her that he was upstairs, ending in her thundering up the stair, sprinting through the doors with tear tracks marring her face, he realized that was not what had happened at all.

"Ron!" She yelled, her face screwing with grief as she lodged into his arms, grasping his neck and pressing her head into the crook of his neck. "Ron! He left me! He left me while I was visiting Mum! He-he had this rucksack! He always left it in the corner of his room! But I went to his place and it was gone! He left!" She screeched.

Ron tried to reassure his sister, smoothing her hair and telling her he had just left for the weekend, like he had told himself about the woman who was supposed to be downstairs having tea. But as the weekend came and went, followed by the week, and the month, and the year, they realized that they had been double-crossed. They had left for each other. Molly was incensed, Arthur cursed Harry Potter and the bint he ran off with, but they never came back.

Dean said he was nearly certain that he had seen her in Australia, while he and Luna had been honeymooning, but he retracted it as Luna reminded him that the girl had short, black hair. Prophet papers said that the one Potter boy had been seen in London boarding a strange Muggle flying aircraft.

Ron had no doubt that that airplane (She had told him about those things once) was taking Potter to Australia. He swore that if ever he came in contact with either of them he would hex them both to Hell. But they never did come back, so he never came in contact with them.

There was no more suitcase, no more fiancé, no more best friend. What got him the most, though, was the missing suitcase in the corner of his room.

His room alone.

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"Jesus, 'Mione! You couldn't pack light and let me buy you things in Sydney?"

"Most of what's in there is rare books, and personal things that belong to my heart. I only packed a week's worth of clothes." She said, tugging at the end of her hair.

"I can see that of you." He smiled, handing over his rucksack to the man behind the counter, after having lifted her case over. Kreacher would be meeting them in Sydney at a house that he had bought earlier in the year for them.

She tugged her hair nervously, now permanently dyed black and cut just below her ear. "Harry, does my hair look okay?"

"It's the most beautiful I've ever seen you." He told her seriously, reaching out to stroke her short hair, straightened with a spell she was sure she would never have to use again.

He smiled, and then puffed up for her. "Am I suitable to meet your parents?"

She smiled back at him. "Most handsome boy I ever could have brought home."

They always felt guilty for leaving their previous lovers, but he had waited until he was sure that England was safe, building up more money so she could live the life he had always imagined for her when they were alone together, hunting for the Horcruxes. They felt bad for leading the two redheads on, but to suddenly tell the two of them that after being alone together for so long they had fallen for each other would mean the end of both of their lives.

Besides, he had learned after his death that the only thing that matters in life is happiness.

Happiness at any cost.

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A/N: It popped into my mind. Don't ask, but I like it, so I will post it.

Please review. I've had no luck with any Harry Potter fanfiction. It's been killing me. But I do like this so if you do, please tell me. Or if you don't, tell me what's wrong with it…unless you just don't like the pairings. Seriously, it's in the summary. If you didn't like the pairing why did you read it?

InnocentGuilt