A/N: Okay, I've decided to keep going with this because I really enjoyed writing the first chapter, and because if I don't get the rest of this plot out of my system, I'm going to explode. I have to write it…does anyone else know what I mean? Oh well…maybe it's just me.

Disclaimer: Yes, I am the J.K. Rowling and I've decided to exploit my characters….yeah, uh-huh. Right.

Chapter 2: Everything and Nothing

~Ron~

The sheets were cotton, but he still felt as if his body couldn't breathe. They were soaked with sweat and stuck to him, making him feel as though he were being suffocated. He tossed and turned, trying to find sleep. When he slept, he got a break. He could forget about his life, his world, and drift into dreams of happiness. Dreams of the one thing he longed for, the one thing that would make his seemingly perfect life complete. Dreams of her. He could pretend she hadn't said those things to him on that day, their last day of school…last day of childhood…last day together.

He threw back his covers and sat up, the cold air of his bedroom hitting his naked body. He couldn't take it. He couldn't stay in here, in his bed, and just let his thoughts wander again. He needed air. His feet slapped againse the hardwood floor as he went to grab a pair of boxers. He pulled them on and they hung low on his hips. Then he walked out the French doors to the balcony outside his room.

The sky was inky blue with silver stars sprinkled generously across it. The brilliantly white moon cast light across the garden and the balcony as he sat in a chair. The cool night breeze chilled him as it skimmed his bare chest and lightly tousled his red hair. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

He hadn't seen her since that day, in the classroom. She had done the talking, barely letting him get a word in, refusing to talk about it. She broke his heart, then turned and left the room, and his life.

"I've made up my mind, Ron. It's over. You can't change things this time."

She had done it before. Three times before that, she had come to him and told him that things needed to be done between them. The first time he had been terrified. The thought of losing her had torn him to shreds. He had hastily talked her out of it, telling her that he loved her and that he wouldn't let anything happen to either of them. She had cried and said she loved him too, and that she was just scared. He knew that. They had all been scared. Voldemort had come to Hogwarts several times that year and had done everything in his power to destroy them. They had fought him every time, barely escaping with their lives. After every time, she would come to him and tell him she couldn't do it anymore. He always talked her out of it. Except for the last time. Of course, that last battle before graduation had been the worst. He didn't blame her for being so frightened…but it had turned out okay. Nothing had happened, just like he had promised her. Yet, she left him.

After Hermione walked away from him, Ron had tried to get on with his life. He hoped everyday would be a little better than the last, and that eventually he would heal. He had fallen in love once…couldn't he do it again? So he went out and tried. He dated different women, witches and Muggles, blondes, brunettes and redheads; however, over the past eight years, what had started out as a quest for new love turned into a parade of faceless women and one night stands. Ron had had more women sleep in his bed than he could count. In fact, there was a curvy blonde in there at the moment, sound asleep. Her name was Jessica, but Ron had forgotten this. The only name he could think, as always, was Hermione.

God, how he missed her. It was always there, a constant ache in the pit of his stomach. He longed for her constantly, and he would give anything just to be able to hold her again. To think of what could have been was torture.

He'd had the ring in his pocket, damn it. He should have asked her, insisted on going first. Would she have turned him down, or would she have forgotten her fears? Would they be married now? Would they have a home together? Children?

Ron shook himself mentally. He didn't know why he did this to himself. All these questions, these pointless questions. She was gone, and Ron had no idea where she could be. No one did. Harry had seen her a few days after graduation, when she had come to say goodbye to him. She had told him she was going back to the Muggle world because her life was becoming too much to handle. She wouldn't tell him where because she didn't want to be found. No one had heard from her since, except her parents, but Ron was no longer in touch with them either. It was too painful. Hermione hadn't even come to Harry and Ginny's wedding the year after Ginny left Hogwarts, though Harry had sent an invitation to her parents. As far as Ron knew, Hermione didn't even know they had been married. She didn't know that Ginny had given birth to a baby last year, a beautiful little girl they named Bridget. She didn't know that both Fred and George had managed to snag wives of their own, and both of them had small children as well. Fred and his wife Erin had a three-year old son named Jeremy, and George and his wife Marie had two year old twins, Aidan and Ellie. In fact, all of the Weasley children were married. Well, except for Ron, that is.

Ron lived alone in his large house, bought with his hefty paychecks for being a Ministry Auror. He worked alongside Cho Chang and Seamus Finnigan, rounding up the last of the estranged Death Eaters. The long hours kept him busy, which was what he liked best about the job. He got off work around eight at night, and then he would head out to the clubs and bars, usually bringing a woman home with him. All of his buddies told him he was lucky. He wasn't tied down to one woman so he could do whatever he wanted. They envied him. What they didn't know was that Ron would trade lives with them in a second. He hated being a bachelor.

I should be married now, he thought bitterly.

He gazed up at the stars and saw that the sun was coming over the horizon. Another day.

Maybe today will be better, Ron thought. Maybe today I can stop thinking of her constantly. Maybe today I can forget.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~Hermione~

"Aaron, darling, have you seen my jacket?"

"I think you left it by the door."

Hermione walked through the flat to the front door and found her chocolate colored leather jacket lying on the floor, having been carelessly thrown aside. She picked it up, a slight smile playing on her lips as she remembered its removal the night before.

"Is it there?" a man's voice called from another room.

"Yes," she replied. She pulled it on over her small frame and glanced in the antique mirror on the wall. She smiled at her pretty reflection, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well, I'm off, sweetheart," said the man from the other room, Aaron. He walked to Hermione, his brown eyes shining, and kissed her lips. "I'll see you tonight at eight, right?"

Hermione nodded, smiling up into his handsome face. "My place, or yours?"

"We'll go to yours tonight," he replied, looking around his disheveled flat . "Mine is still recuperating from last night." He grinned and kissed her once more before opening the door for her. "Shall we?"

The two of them rode together in the elevator to the first floor, then parted ways with peck. Hermione walked to the chilly parking garage and quickly spotted her black BMW. She climbed in and began her drive to the office.

She had been driving about five minutes and was stopped at a light when she glanced out her window and saw a flash of red hair. Her heart leapt into her throat, and out of habit, she took a closer look at the man on the other side of the street. But no, it wasn't. He was too old, and his red hair was even graying. She sat back in her seat and shook herself mentally. It had been eight years, but she still jumped every time she caught a glimpse of fiery hair. She needed to stop though. It was never him, and it never would be. As far as she knew, Ron was dead. Harry too. She hadn't spoken to Ron since Graduation, and Harry a few days after. She remembered her conversation with Harry like it had happened and hour ago.

"What are you planning to do then, Hermione? Just run away?"

"Harry, you don't understand. I can't just stay here and risk having everything taken away from me like that. I just can't."

"So you're giving everything up instead. You're just going to walk away from it all?"

"You don't understand…"

"What do you mean, I don't understand? My life has been in constant danger since I was eleven years old! Not only do I have to worry about myself, but I have to worry about the people I love! I have to live with that fact that just because they know me, they could be killed…or worse. Everything could be taken from me, too Hermione! So don't you even try to tell me that I don't understand, because I understand a lot better than I ever wanted to!"

"Harry…please don't yell…"

"Don't you think I've thought it would be easier if I just left? If I were to leave, everyone would be safe. But I know I can't do that. Do you know why I can't, Hermione?"

Hermione didn't say anything.

"Because I know how much it would hurt the people who care about me if I just up and vanished." Harry paused, trying to calm down. "The same goes for you, 'Mione. No one wants you to leave…we'll all be crushed."

"I've made up my mind."

"Please, just reconsider." He paused, as though waiting for Hermione to tell him she was staying after all. When she didn't answer, he took a shaky breath. "I love you, 'Mione."

"I love you too, Harry."

Harry's words had had no effect on her, other than to make her cry. After he had left, she's packed her things. The next day, she had taken a plane to France, where she lived with her mother's sister for four years while she had studied Journalism. She kept in touch with her parents, naturally, but none of her friends from school. When she finally moved back to England when she was 21 with a degree, her parents too had lost touch with Ron and Harry. They said the boys had written for about a year, then the letters suddenly stopped coming. Hermione had tried hard not to think about what that could mean. She knew, from wizard news papers in France, that Voldemort had been defeated around the same time, but the papers had given no details on how exactly it had been done, or who had done it. She had thought at the time that maybe people didn't know for sure.

Hermione moved to London and began to work at a publishing company there. She made no attempts to contact Harry or any of the Weasleys. She knew that now Voldemort was gone, and that if Ron had lived through it, they could safely be together now. But still, there was that if. She didn't think she could bear it if she wrote the Weasleys, then received a letter back telling her that Ron was dead. Besides, what if Ron didn't want her back? After all, she had broken his heart and she knew it. What if he had found someone new, someone better, and married. He could even have children now. Hermione couldn't bear the thought of Ron with someone else, so instead, she had convinced herself that Ron had died bravely in the battle against Voldemort, right alongside Harry.

She had dated a little, but she could never seem to let herself get too involved in a relationship. Ron still haunted her thoughts, and no one compared to him in her eyes. Then, a year ago, she had agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She had been very apprehensive and had expected it to be an early night. She had been very wrong.

Aaron had turned out to be charming, handsome, intelligent, funny, and a genuinely nice guy. He was 26 years old, and was a lawyer at a prestigious law firm in London. Hermione had been instantly smitten, and the two had been together ever since. Just the night before, they had celebrated the one year anniversary of their first date.

Hermione's mother had asked her a few days ago if she was happy. It had been so long since she'd thought about happiness, it came as a surprise to her that she actually could be. For the first time in eight years, Hermione was able to say that yes, she was happy.