As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter! And I promise you, it won't be dark in the next chapter! Constructive Criticism is always appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Characters from the Harry Potter books and movies as all belong to JK Rowling. All credit should be given to her.

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[I would like to time skip this to after Ron had destroyed the horcrux :)]

Harry could't stop his hands from shaking, and now he was wet from sweat instead of the water down the pond. His eyes were just as sore as his neck, and the burning in it was equal to the burns in his fingers from holding on the horcrux; but it didn't matter. Nothing does but the locket. It was lying over the rock, still and unmoving - just like how it should have been. There was no more life inside the shell, no more soul living through its features, and Harry thought it could be the best thing in the world to remove it - but it wasn't.

Slowly and with shaking hands, Harry took the locket between his palms, hands tightly clutching it as if the horcrux would move back around his neck - or worse, bring out his own nightmares.

He look back down to Ron, beads of sweat around his pale face as his back was slouched on the rock he was sitting on. Harry knew what it mist've felt like to feel so lost - that the dreams that only plagues your mind would coexist with your equally terrible reality. He felt pity for him, definitely, but he also felt pity for himself.

Because no matter what he does or what he wants, he can never be hers.

Hermione could never be his.

When their lips barely met on that fateful day, his mind was wandering all over the place as he sat on the flap of the tent. His eyes were unfocused and lost, and everything around him was gone - it was only that one moment that was being played over and over again in his mind, and no matter what, he couldn't shake it. He told himself that you belong to one Ginny Weasley, that he's in love with her. That the only reason he broke up with her was for her to be safe from harm's way. But a part of him denied it, because it wasn't just that. He's in love - no, he's still in love with his one and only best friend.

It all made sense, no matter how wrong it seemed. Falling in love with your best friend, whom you have considered as a sister, is wrong - especially since she was in love with your other best friend, and you were supposedly in love with that mate's younger sister. It sounded wrong and it was confusing, yet it made perfect sense. It was an answer he was scared to admit to anyone, yes, but it was the closest thing he could accept. And in that moment, his heart leaped, as if saying 'I told you so' to him, while his body screamed for him to move not only because of his stiff joints, but to tell Hermione.

It was also the day he had this small hope that maybe - just maybe - he can call her his.

Only, it was ruined all in a span of minutes.

To see Ron again was so elevating. He was breathing through his nose and mouth at the same time, hands clutching at the soil underneath him even as it stuck because of the water he's pulled with. He was laughing and nearly crying at the same time, to see his best mate standing there with the locket that could've killed him, wet in the face and red fiery hair sticking out - but it was still him. He was more than happy, and he was thankful for Merlin for bringing him to help. Only, the smile had lost its full spirit when he remembered Hermione.

Bet she'd be happy to see Ron again. He thought.

But he shrugged the thought away. He might've lost the chance to tell her how he feels, but maybe she's changed as well. Maybe, after the next few weeks of them three together, that he could observe her, and see her reaction - if he has the chance to be with her.

Then, Ron's nightmares were right in front of him; literally.

There was dusk and dark figures emerging from that locket, and it rocked him to his very core. He was there alongside Hermione. They looked sinister with dark mischief; perfect orbs cold and distant boring into Ron and Harry's very fiber. They were a beautiful replica of themselves, but a perfectly odd twisted side that made them disgusting. And the rants - Merlin, the rants they talked - the taunted, drawling way they spoke was too close to reality that it felt uncomfortable. And it was in their energy, in the way they walked gracefully and poise, with confidence and authority, that this was not them - it never will be! - yet, it was Ron's nightmares.

No matter what, it was these fears and insecurities that brought Ron to run away out of pure instinct; for him to feel so grumpy and frustrated everyday, and it wasn't just because of the lack of nutrition, nor the lack of progress, no - but his fears seem to reflect in front of his very eyes with the way Harry and Hermione seems to work - how they blended well together, as if in perfect sync - and when they figured out how to destroy the horcruxes, finishing each other's sentences so naturally, and the light that radiated off their faces was so against Ron that he had to run away because it was too much.

In a way, he understood Ron. Because he felt the same way when they were together in Hogwarts. Only, he was blind to see it was for his feelings of jealousy rather than the feeling of being left out.

He came close to Ron, and slowly he opened his sweaty palms up in front of him, the chain looking rusted and the shell of the locket dangling. "You did it, Ron." He tried to say encouragingly, only to be met with silence. Harry sighed a bit dejectedly, and sat beside Ron on the rock. He could see the sword of Gryffindor over Ron's thigh limply. "Ron, what you saw there…it wasn't real." He tried again, and continued saying words that was taken half-heartedly. He wanted his best mate to understand, that all of the words spoken was to ruin and destroy him, but none worked. He could only think of one way, and it easily squeezed his heart painfully.

"Ron…I -" he paused, and tried to gulp away the lump building in his throat. "I love Hermione," that part will always be true, and it meant so much more - much, much more than anyone realizes - but no one should know that. "But…not in the way you think." He mentally flinched at how his voice sounded thick, but was glad Ron was thick enough to not realize. "She'll always be a sister, Ron. She thinks the same way too." Now, his voice cracked when he said 'sister', and his heart stopped beating for a moment before his heartbeat came back faster than before, along with a pang of guilt and pain with it - but now's not the time for him. Ron needs his best mate right now.

He pushed his feelings away, all the guilt and pain and sadness that engulfed his very being, and stood up, lending a hand to him. "Now let's go. She'd probably be happy to see you again."

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One chapter done, next soon following!

P.S., this chapter's shorter than the other two, that I can say, but I need to get this part here. Next Chapter's in Ron's perspective :)