Forever is Only Years Away
Chapter 3: The Guide to Hunting a Love

He was sure that his ears had never been brighter. It was pure rage that flowed through his veins. He abruptly stood up, pushing his chair off and making it clatter on the floor.

"Shut up," he snarled. "You have no right, you don't know--"

"I was there," she stood up too, her hair standing on edge, her cheeks flushed a deep pink.

"Everyone was there, everyone was sorry, everyone kept telling me it was not my fault, that I shouldn't blame myself--" his voice cracked in a way it hadn't since the moment his mother had died.

Hermione stood up with him, bringing her hand to his face. "Oh, Ron--"

He wrenched his face from her cupping hand. Weakness was a death to an Auror. And weakness was all she ever caused... all that his mother's death had ever caused.

He had been alone in the room for as long as he could remember and all he could do was play the scene over and over in his mind.

He had his wand, firmly clasped in his bloodied hand, tears were almost leaking from his eyes from the pain in his leg, and breathing hurt, which meant he was sure, he had some broken ribs.

Draco was standing before him, grinning manically, just as bloodied, as he was wand pointed back at him.

"Not bad for a Weasley, huh? But you don't win, not now, not ever." he hissed. "No matter how much you learn or how much you make you will always be second and you know it, Weasley... you know. No matter how many times you shag that mudblood you will always be second best to Potter."

Ron was used to Draco's taunting regarding Hermione, it was nothing new for him but he was tired, he was tired of the wagging war, he was tired of simply fuming at Draco for his words, he was tired of simply turning beet-red, he wanted this like he had never wanted anything in his life, he wanted to taste his blood, to taste human blood, to feel the power rushing out of him and defeating Draco once and for all.

"Your words say nothing new, Draco... and now, it's your time to go." Ron pulled back his wand, the words tasted in his lips.

But Malfoy was faster, his "flick" cleaner, something had been better at that moment because the next few seconds were what nightmares were made off.

"Crucio!"

His body fell into spasms, he had only felt this horrible... well never, not even when Professor Moody had trained them, this was pure hate that he felt hitting him like a thousand needles, he felt his body trash, wriggle and ripple.

"Can you feel it, Weasley? Can you feel my superiority?"

The wand struck again and his own wand fell from his hand, his bones were twisted and turning and he swore he was dying, slowly dying.

Malfoy walked around his body that was stripped off all dignity in the floor. "How does it feel to be all your life crawling in the floor like a weakling?"

Ron opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a strangled whimper.

Maybe Malfoy was right, maybe he was a weakling, if this would've been Harry something extraordinary would've happened, something would've stopped this, something that would've changed is life forever. But not for a Weasley. He was actually meant to die; he was the sidekick with the red hair. The one no one ever thought as anything more than the protagonist's friend.

And it was at that moment when Malfoy's vicious eyes glittered with nothing but malice and triumph that he raised his wand and Ron understood and accepted that this was the end.

He had fought the good fight and died a Wizard's death like so many before him.

I love you, Hermione. I love you, my family--

"No, not Ron!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

But it was not him that was dead... there was silence in the land.

He saw Malfoy looking at a lump in the floor, a dead lump in the floor. A lump that had saved him, something had happened...something that Malfoy had not intended.

"I...."

The door of the room he was previously been alone in against Malfoy burst opened, Lupin walked in with his wand pointed, just as bloodies and tired as he was.

Draco looked from Lupin to Ron and weighting in his choices he smiled.

"Stubefy!" Lupin cried, pointing his wand at Draco but it was too late he was gone, disappeared.

"Ron!" Hermione had run into the room, her hair a mess, robes thorn, pale and shaken. "Are you ok?" she threw herself next to him and pulled him up, tears formed her voice as she choked off. "I though I lost you--"

"Someone saved me, 'Hermione." Ron looked in wonder at the still lump in the floor.

Lupin, wand still pointed kneeled by the robed wizard, and turned them upright.

Hermione gave a cry of horror and dead before them was Molly Weasley, eyes opened and blank, blood running on the side of her lip.

"No!" Hermione whimpered. "Oh, Ron--"

"Mom?" Ron staggered up, almost blind with pain from his wounds.

"Ron, stay back." Lupin told him forcedly. "Hermione--"

Hermione grabbed his arms, yanking him towards her but she was no match for his strength. "No, Ron, don't look--"

"Mom?" Ron's voice was shaking. "She's not--" He pulled himself from Hermione, he needed to do something, he needed to shake her he needed for her to wake up and tell him he was grounded for life and then she'll send him a horrible knitted sweater-- "Mom, wake up!"

Lupin stood from his place in the floor and grabbed Ron, pushing him against the wall. "She's gone, Ron. There's nothing you can do for her now... she gave you a gift--"

"Shut up!" Ron shouted, the reality of what had happened was flooding him, he was drowning in it. "She's not dead, she's not gone--" He could hear Hermione's strangled cries and Lupin's voice and it all made no sense because he c could see her, he could see her running and shouting "No, not Ron!" Just like Harry's mother had done for him... and doing something as stupid as sacrificing herself for her son.

"You need to eat something, please." Hermione told him days later when he still sat, starring at the wall a thorn navy colored sweater in his hands. Her gently placed a plate of soup next to him but he didn't want it.

His mother had not made it, it was something foreign... he wanted to throw it out the window and let the world know that no one made soup like his mother... or did.

"Leave me alone," he murmured, laying his head on the flimsy pillow.

He felt her quiet for sometime then she walked around the bed and sat on it, placing her hands gentle on his face, smoothing his hair, touching his lips and eyes as tears leaked from his lashes.

"Ginny wants to see you," her voice was watery which made him even more furious, for her to even think or begin to imagine what he felt was sacrilege.

His eyes hardened and he looked up at her, he knew now what he had to do. "Does she hate me? DO my brothers hate me... does my dad--"

"Of course they don't!" She cried, as if he had suggested something horrible. "They love you, we all love you just as we all loved Molly!"

He smiled at her. "Do you love me?"

She took his hand in hers. "I've always loved you... dirty nose, red hair and all."

"You know I love you, don't you?" he whispered to her, his voice weak with exhaustion.

She leaned in, her face almost meeting his. "Yes, I do." Her lips brushed his then turned to kiss his forehead firmly.

He looked at her for what seemed like ages, memorizing her face, the little lines by her mouth the soft hairs of her eyebrows the perfect tint of brown of her eyes.

"Never forget that, ok?" he told her, touching her face. "Never forget it."

She simply smiled.

"Tell Ginny to come in.," he told her.

She nodded, squeezing his hand and left. When she had come back with Ginny he was gone. No note, no more words of I love you, just gone.

"Just let me be, Hermione," he begged her. Her eyes were brimming in that innocent way f hers. "Please, leave me alone."

She ducked her head and studied the ring in her finger. "I wish I could, Ron." Hard eyes turned to look at him. "Don't you think that I've wished I could? I've tried, I almost got married!"

That was like a hit on Ron's stomach, a strong acid-like hit. He knew deep inside all these years that she was probably happy, with someone who could love her without anger and self-doubt... he had known this but he didn't want to know about it, he wanted to remain oblivious, to pretend she was still in the that room where he had last seen here, that crossroads and if he was ever ready to go back he would go there, and there she'd be, waiting; reading over her latest interest and smiling brightly at him when he walked back in the door.

"...but I couldn't." she laughed, a mirthless laugh. "I would keep wondering 'is Ron alright, has he tries anything silly, does he even remember me? Does he miss us?' And it drove me mad... it still drove me to madness." There were tears in his voice, even with his back turned to her he could hear those tears.

He hated it when she cried, it killed him. But what he hated even more was when she cried because of him.

"And then I find you --finally! After all these years and only to find a shell of the man I knew and I've got to stop and ask myself 'is my Ron really dead? Have I been in denial all of this time? Did I loose him to Malfoy that night?" she sniffed. "And O realized that just as you hated Malfoy forsaking your mother, I hated him for taking you away from me... so you see." she looked at him. "We have much more in common than what we thought. We both hate the person who took those we loved away."

She stood up, holding her small hands in front of her like she did when she was holding herself back from touching something. "That is why I'm not leaving, I am staying until we find Malfoy. Until he's dead. Because I wont be able to go on with my life as long as I know that he's wondering it free."

Ron didn't look at her for a long while, just thinking on her words, on the meaning so deep that had touched him beyond what she'd ever know because he'd never admit it.

"Agreed. We find Malfoy. We kill him." He snatched his coat from the back of the seat and stormed out of the room.

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"Vampires." He said as he wrote the same word on the board.

There was a murmur through his classroom as the students, excitedly wrote down his words. He turned to the box he had brought with him and pulled its contents out of it to show the class.

The 4th years jumped, some of the girls in the front row who simple ogled at him all through their hour jumped back and squealed.

"This is a mummified head of a vampire at full flight." Harry explained as he levitated it and placed it on the front table.

"You're welcomed to c come and look, just don't touch, it tends to still have a bit of a bite on him." he smiled. Slowly some of the braver students came forward, peering curiously at the head.

"Can someone name some of the attributes of a vampire?"

Jean Doughson, an American, raised her hand.

"Miss Dough son," Harry said calmly.

"The main attributes are blooradium; which is the physical need of blood, human blood for survival. They are also allergic to the sun, however it is not fatal contrary to popular belief it produces large blood boils over their sensitive, leathery white skin in which case they avoid it very much. Their teeth are poisonous but can also be used as remedy for most skin diseases and are considered very rare in the wizarding community. Their speed is four times the likes of human, and they have the strength of two dragons; hence in Medieval times it was considered more chivalrous for a wizard to hunt down and kill one vampire than it was to kill a dragon. They are also immune to all human diseases except leukemia, in which case feeding off a person who has the disease will cause instant fatal death, so you can say that the only thing they are truly afraid of is death, ironic since it's the one thing they cause. Muggle mythology has placed them as rabid creatures when they are indeed very intelligent, highly evolved and cannot die from being staked, beheaded, holy water does not affect them neither do any Christian signs like crosses and such."

Many of the students rolled their eyes at her, snickering behind her back, but Harry looked at her very pleased, she reminded him all too much of Hermione when they were just fourteen and the most complicated thing was the Triwizard Tournament.

"Very well done, Miss Doughson; ten points to Hufflepuff." he nodded at her.

"Excuse me, professor." Jacob Withering asked, raising his hand. He was Harry's youngest student in this class and also the shiest.

"Yes, Mr. Withering; you had a question?"

The whole class turned to look at him; he hardly ever talked at all. "Humm... I was wondering... well we all heard that you... well that you once killed four vampires in one curse."

It was a thing of excitement, murmurs were heard all over the class and Harry was momentary transported to his second year, hearing Professor Binns tell them about the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry cleared his throat, he was sure he was brushing. "Well, hum... let's see."

"Pardon me for interrupting his class..." a sneer was heard from the door, all heads turned to see Snape, his robes black as ever, his hair now sprinkled with greasy white hairs. "Could I borrow you for a moment, Professor?"

Harry sighed, inwardly. Snape was the biggest opposer of Harry as any type of professor and when it was announced that he was indeed teaching the Dark Arts he nearly had a aneurysm but as the years went by and Harry proved himself Snape had become less hostile towards him; even though on his really pissy days he would hiss and snip at Harry all he could.

Harry looked back at his class whose interest he'd been holding with the promise of a story from one of his 'tales'.

"Of course, Professor. Class, please take your seat and read ahead chapter 34, I'll be back shortly." Harry said and walked to Snape, dread filling up his stomach.

When they were out of the range of the class' ears Snape turned to look at him.

"I suppose you've heard of your old-school pal Weasley." it was a sneer, Harry was sure of it. It was neither a question nor a comment, but a beginning of a conversation; a conversation Harry was sure will fall blame on is shoulders. Snape always tried to blame him for something.

"You know I have." Harry told him, calmly.

Snape gave him his signature half-smile, the one that reached neither eyes nor cheeks.

"The ever-so-talented Miss Granger has found him, and now they are chasing down the last of the Death Eaters--"

Harry's eyes bulged comically. "They're heading here? Would you like to burrow my invisibility cloak?"

Snape's eyes narrowed into almost invisible slits.

Harry smiled and patted his shoulder. "You have to ease-up, old man. It's a joke--"

"Yes, I gathered that up by how amusing it was to you and how insulting it was to me." Snape snapped.

Harry chuckled, nothing co8uld make Snape grow a sense of humor, he was born with that defect.

"You wanted to tell me?" Harry probed.

Snape was still looking at him like a boy in his Potions class, just waiting for him to mess up. "Since I covered the lesson yesterday, seeing as Professor Weasley is in a ... delicate condition, and you needed to tend to her I am offering my services to you, Potter. Will you be going on a lovely little adventure with--"?

"I have no intentions of leaving my class, my wife or the school." Harry told him pointedly, Snape's upper lip twitched.

"Very well, Professor." he said. "Have a nice day." His blowing black robes almost hit Harry in the face, had he not jumped back.

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"Welcome to this debriefing, I'm glad all of you could make it." Lupin said as the rest of the wizards look on to him. It was a circular table that faced what looked to be a typical board, but a chalk was floating over it, writing everything Lupin said in case someone missed it, once it got to the end of the board it would automatically erase and start once more.

In front of all the Auror who were sitting on the table was a magic parchment and a quill, it was very much like Rita Skeeter's note-taking system, as Lupin talked and gave them information the magic quill will write down the important information (highlighting the every mostly important).

Ron sat the least close to Lupin as possible and glared at the back of Hermione's head who was (of course) in the very next seat to Lupin, her quill moving faster the rest (she also had a small pad of parchment were she took down her own notes in case the magic quill forgot any).

"... we've gotten word from different magic moles we've got placed around the Graskian Mansion, the supposed hideout of the last remaining Malfoy Family that indeed they are planning a large meeting which will require the last of the death eaters to be present. They are going to try a version of the Incantarium spell." Lupin told them as he passed important parchments with the map of the mansion on them.

"I though the Incantarium spell could only be done on a full moon and with a Vase of Isis," Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.

"As always Ms.Granger, you're right. It will be on a full moon, as you know I will not be able to attend; however they have acquired the necessary vase and will go ahead and perform the ritual to bring Voldermort back." Lupin said, looking down at her. "We cannot allow this to come to pass, too many lives were lost in sacrifice to rid us of Voldermort, too much time... there's only about four death eaters left but they might well be the deadliest and most loyal ones."

Hermione blinked at him and then ventured a look back to Ron whose face was turned towards the wall but she could clearly see a deep red flush crawling up his neck.

"Mr. Granger, as you all know, is here on the Minister's direct order; she will be accompanying one of us to try to retrieve the book of Byzantium, the relics that were stolen from the Paris Museum in order to gain access to the spell. Our moles tell us that indeed the book is being stored inside the basement of the Mansion. It is being guarded by not only wizards but by dark spells and animals hat we have yet to identify." Lupin turned to look at Ron. "Mr. Weasley, I will leave you in charge of team caterpillar, in charge of the retrieval of the book, if we can accomplish this is will be less trouble." Ron nodded. "However, in no way, no way, are we sacrificing human life, am I clear?"

Ron nodded once more.

"Your team will include Jacob, Luke, Felicia and of course, Ms. Granger."

Hermione's head snapped up, staring wildly at Lupin while Ron's mouth was open to protest.

"You are dismissed, Mr. Weasley would you show Ms. Granger to our artillery room?"

Ron glared at his supervisor, then gave what he considered a pissed off nod and stormed off, leaving Hermione to struggle to pick up all her stuff, and run after him, glaring also at the red head.

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TBC.....

(I swear to have more H/G in the next chapter and more lovely memories)

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