Shadows
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "He painted a pretty picture for you, didn't he Ron, what with all of his colorful lies and empty promises, how could I possibly compete with that?" A series of events leads Ron to the dark side, can anyone bring him back?
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own.
A/N- It's been a weird week. I meant to update sooner, but other things happened.but I am now focused and pumped! *looks for someone to high five* No one? Alright I'll just go wallow in self-pity.
Oh, and ff.net wouldn't allow me to upload ellipses (the three periods in a row) so anytime you see one period with a word after it with a lower case letter, three periods are supposed to be there. Hopefully that makes sense.
Chapter Seventeen
Pieces of My Broken Heart (aww, cheesy clichéd chapter title.someone shoot me, quickly.)
Sometimes you're standing on the edge of a cliff. Sometimes you jump just to see what it feels like. And sometimes you jump just because you're tired of being scared. Dorothy Dandridge
I can distinctly remember feeling like a child caught up in the middle of a messy divorce. We were all adults, Mark, Melissa, and I; so why was it exceedingly difficult to act as such? I visited with Melissa once more, and spent a few days with Mark. It wasn't necessarily immaturity and bitterness that seemed to be driving their harsh remarks against each other.it was something else entirely.
This wasn't a break up gone horribly wrong. It was like they were fighting over me. Fighting for control over me. I didn't like the idea that they seemed to view me as an object, something that could gain them prestige and power. I didn't want the whole true seer thing.I just wanted to be me.
Fed up with Mark constantly "dropping in" on me I left the house. Against Mark's orders and knowledge. How rebellious am I? Alright, so I left a note saying that I would be back in a few hours, but I didn't say where I was going.
I ended up in Diagon Alley. Probably not the smartest place to go if you are a marked death eater and presumed dead. I did have a disguise though, a good one. I had a hat.and some glasses. And my outfit was totally not something that anyone would expect to see me in. I was good to go.
Except, Diagon Alley is very boring if you have no one to walk around with. I had a Gringott's account, in the name of one John Smith. Yeah, Mark is all about the secret identity thing. John Smith, there's an original name. Though I could kind of see it's appeal."I'm John Smith, just a regular Old Joe. Or maybe I should say John. Ha ha, like that one do ya, well I got a dozen more." There's a stimulating conversation if I ever heard one.
See what being alone gets you, insane, that's what. I swear spending a day inside my head is like going to a haunted house.I wonder if anyone would pay admission to see the horrors that are the inner workings of my mind? Step right up folks, just a sickle for horrors that are sure to leave you with nightmares for the rest of your life.
Passing by a newsstand I spotted an issue of Witch Weekly.Hermione and Harry were on the cover. It was a picture from my funeral. You know, no one should ever have to say the words my funeral.there is just something wrong about that. But I did have to say/think it, and the surreal feeling of it didn't numb the pain of seeing Harry and Hermione "comforting" each other. Harry and Hermione. Come on, it just didn't even sound right together. People with similar sounding names do not belong together in the romantic form. Case in point, Mark and Melissa. Yeah, see how well that one worked out. Ron and Hermione on the other hand, it just has a nice ring to it. Or perhaps I am a tad biased.
I missed her. I ached for her and I didn't even know that it was possible to ache for someone. I needed her and if she was with Harry I didn't know what I was going to do. If I lost her to Harry she would be lost to me forever.I would never even have the chance to officially be with her. I wouldn't get to proudly proclaim myself as her boyfriend.her lover.her husband. I had never even realized that I wanted those things, that I wanted to be her everything.
I wouldn't be her anything now though. She didn't even know that I was alive. I was so lovesick over her that the girl standing across the street looked just like her to me. That's just demented, my mind is morphing innocent girls into Hermione clones.I closed my eyes and looked again, Hermione look-alike was still there, and now she was walking towards me. Great, now I had to confront my insanity head on.
She stopped in front of me and I had to give my imagination kudos, she was very realistic. No use going insane if you can't at least do it right, that's what I always say. Actually, I don't say that, but it sounds good. So perhaps I'll start saying it.
She looked at me for a solid minute; neither of us said a word. It was strangely intimate and spellbinding. But then it ended; she turned and began to walk away.
"Wait," I called out, unwilling to allow her to go. She turned back to me, tears evident in her eyes. I don't know why I called her back; I didn't have anything to say to her. I just.wasn't prepared for her to leave. She wasn't Hermione, but she was close.and I needed that.
I pulled off my glasses and so I could stare into her eyes. They were brown, that dark soft sort of brown that I could only see in Hermione's eyes. I knew my imagination wasn't this good, I wasn't this vivid with descriptions. I wasn't imaging her.it was her. And that scared the shit out of me.
"Ron," she whispered, as if saying it loudly would cause me to disappear.
My eyes darted around; there were a lot of people around. A lot of people who could easily overhear anything. A lot of people that could report what they heard to unwanted sources.
I grabbed a hold of her elbow and led her to a nearby alley. We walked halfway down it, no one was around. "Hermione," I said uneasily, ".hey."
She looked at me incredulously, "hey? You were.that is you are.or at least they said that you were-"
"Dead," I finished somewhat harshly. "Gave up pretty quick on me, don't you think? Evidentially so, being that I'm still alive and all."
"That isn't fair," tears returned to her eyes, "you have no clue what you put me through. They told me you were dead, I saw your body! You can't just disappear, die, and then come back like it's alright. It's not alright," she broke off into sobs and I couldn't stand it anymore.
I took her into my arms decisively and murmured endearments into her ear. "It's okay now, Hermione." I said the words, though I didn't believe them myself. I would give anything though, anything at all, just so she wouldn't have to feel pain.
After having collected herself she merely settled for staring at me as if she had never seen me before. "What happened," she asked in a quiet voice, "where have you been?"
"It doesn't matter where I've been, Hermione.it's where I am now. And right now, I'm with you."
She jerked away suddenly, "It does matter, Ron. It matters to me. You left, why?"
Why? Now there's a question with a thousand possible responses. None of them justified my actions though; nothing made the mark on my arm disappear. "I left because I had no other choice."
"There is always a choice," she countered quickly, "you may not like the results, but there is always a choice. Don't dance around the subject, Ron; don't feed me these lies that you think I want to hear. Tell me the truth or leave so I can go back to mourning you."
"Mourning me? I'd say you've long since gotten past that stage." Her words had provoked sudden anger in me, anger that drew up the picture of Harry and her in my mind. "Moved on rather quickly actually, glad that you didn't suffer long."
"Suffer," she repeated, "you know absolutely nothing of my suffering. If you had bothered to stick around rather than run away-"
"I didn't run!"
She shook her head with a cynical smile, "no, you just bolted when you were afraid. Strange though, sounds a lot like running away."
"I wasn't afraid," I spat, hearing my own voice rise, "and I didn't want to leave you. It killed me to leave you, and even more so to stay away. Of course, it didn't take you too long to find comfort in the arms of Harry-"
My face burned suddenly. She had slapped me, and it stung like hell.
"How dare you," tears were now foreign to her expression, which was one of pure rage. "You relinquished all rights and 'claims' you have on me when you slept with me and then abandoned me. I am not, nor have I ever, been with Harry. You always have been prone to jump to ridiculous conclusions. There's only been you, Ron.and now I'm not sure if there can ever be an us."
I wasn't angry anymore, just numb. The look on her face, the pain and rage at me.she wasn't lying, I could tell that much. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "I've failed you and you have every right to hate me.but know that for as much as you hate me, I love you a hundred times stronger."
"I could never hate you," she said almost so quietly that I didn't hear it. "As much as it would be easier for me to hate you, I know I never can. I've loved you since I was eleven years old, and it just won't go away."
Within a second I had my arms wrapped around her. It didn't matter that my life had turned into one huge mess. It didn't matter that the dark mark was residing on my arm. Nothing mattered in that moment because I loved her, and she loved me; and in that there was nothing but perfection.
I placed feathery kisses along her neck and pulled my portkey out of my pocket. "Come with me," I whispered.
"Where?"
"Where do you want to go," I asked with childish dreams taking place in my head.
"It doesn't matter," she responded suddenly, the realization of just wanting to leave with me dawning on her. "It doesn't matter," she said again with a smile, "as long as I'm with you."
I kept my arms wrapped around her and pressed down on the portkey. We slipped away from the alley and into our own naivety and dreams.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione looked around the house, "where are we?"
I touched her hair gently, still in disbelief that this was happening, that she was really here. "My place."
"Your place," she questioned, "where did you get this house.Ron, where have you been, really?"
"Don't ask me that.please, Hermione. I'll tell you everything eventually, but for now, can't we just pretend like nothing has changed?"
She sighed and looked away. "Against my better judgment I will agree to that. As long as you promise that you won't keep things from me after this. I just got you back Ron, don't lie to me anymore."
I inhaled deeply and felt bliss as her smell tickled my nose. She always smelled of lavender, it was lovely. I felt drowned in my feelings for her, it was dangerous but I didn't care. I knew it couldn't last as much as I knew I was lying to her when I told her that I would tell her everything. I wouldn't taint Hermione with my recent adventures and misfortunes.but I would tell her some things.
It couldn't last though, that was the one thing I knew for sure. I was in trouble, I wouldn't put her in harm just because I was weak and had to bring her back here, had to see her.
Tired of thinking and sick of knowing that it was all bittersweet I kissed her. I kissed her in a numbing sort of way, attempting to take away my pain. She wrapped her arms around me and all my thoughts and worries flew out the window. Everything was perfect again, if only for a little while.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N- I ended the chapter there against my own better judgment. Angst and drama next chapter, perfection will be short-lived because, of course, Hermione is going to discover something important. Gee, three guesses as to what, lol. *cough* summary *cough*
No thank you list this chapter because I wanted to post tonight and I'm tired. Thank you so much to anyone who reviewed though, I love hearing your thoughts and insights to the story. I'll probably send out e-mails this week to anyone who asked a question in their review for sixteen, otherwise, thank you for taking the time to leave a review and I hope you are enjoying the story.