Sorry about the technical difficulties—this chapter was showing as loaded on my author screen but not on the story page. Hope it's sorted out now.

Epilogue: The Future

ignis fatuus--a deceptive hope, goal, or influence; a delusion

"The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple." --

Oscar Wilde

Birds singing . . . what a dreadful noise.

Feeling as though her head was about to tear down the middle and set the hammers that were currently beating on her skull free, she wondered why being dead was so painful. It wasn't at all what she expected it to be like.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione, are you awake?"

In a cruel replay of the events of last night, the first thing she heard besides those damn loud birds was Ron's voice. Warmer and perhaps more concerned than last time but there it was.

"Please say something, Hermione . . ."

She felt his hands gently brush her hair back from her forehead. Though his touch caused her to ache with pain, it was the jolt of electricity that went through her that made her flinch. Despite everything that had happened, she still loved him and she was unsure whether to laugh or cry at the thought. "I think I'd rather be dead."

"Don't you dare say that, Hermione. Don't you even think it!"

He had clearly never been under the Cruciatus curse for an extended period or he never would have gathered her in his arms causing fiery tongues to travel throughout her body and burn painfully. "Please don't touch me," she choked past the lump in her throat.

He placed her carefully back down and when she finally braved opening her eyes, she saw the hurt in his. She expected him to move away from her so when he didn't she laid her hand softly over his and explained, "It hurts to move. Hell, it hurts to even think."

"Then you must be in real pain," he teased her gently. Turning his hand over to lightly hold hers, he gazed at her face with tears shimmering in his eyes. "It's all my fault."

"Ron, you couldn't have known your wife was a deranged maniac," she assured him though silently adding that everyone else knew there was something seriously wrong with her. Seeing his guilty expression, she decided he didn't deserve her bitterness.

"My wife?"

"Yes, Cynthia. The woman you married yesterday."

"Hermione, you've been unconscious for six days. And she's not my wife."

She tucked away the information about her health for later because her memories were still fuzzy as to what exactly happened the night of his wedding. It didn't surprise her that Ron had already separated from Cynthia. He may be gullible but he was loyal and brave. Once he found out what Cynthia had done, Hermione knew he would not stay with her. Still he must be upset to know that the woman he loved was crazy. With a sympathetic glance, she commented gently, "I didn't know Wizard divorces were so quick."

"They aren't. They're notoriously drawn out and tedious affairs."

"Then how . . .?"

He slipped his hand from under hers and began to pace the length of her bed. She tried to follow his path but it proved to be too tiring so she laid back and rested. He must have figured out what he was going to say because he chuckled sheepishly and observed, "It's a good thing you're sitting down because this is a long story. I'm not sure you'll even believe me."

"That's not a very promising start, Ron."

"I'm not married to Cynthia, Hermione. I never was."

Angry and not really knowing why—because wasn't this exactly what she had wished for—she argued, "Ron, I was at your wedding. You are married."

"No, I'm not. You were at a ceremony but no marriage took place," he rebutted. No doubt sensing her confusion, he took his seat next to her on the bed and smiled down at her. "Have I told you how glad I am that you're okay?"

"Stop trying to change the subject and tell me exactly what's going on."

"The ceremony . . . No, I should start from the beginning. About three months ago, Cynthia walked into The Leaky Cauldron and started hitting on me."

"Do I really need to hear all the gory details," she interrupted. She had already been tortured by his wife, was he trying to make it a family tradition?

"Will you be quiet? For once you don't know everything and you won't understand unless I tell you."

"Fine."

"Thank you," he answered. She guessed he must have seen her stubborn expression because he began to tenderly caress the exposed skin of her arm. The feeling was so totally opposite what had happened when Imposter Ron had done the same that she almost jumped. After the first few seconds it didn't even hurt anymore. "Seeing as I was hanging out with Neville, the current winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award, I was suspicious."

She wanted to tell him that he had no reason to be, that any woman with eyes would have picked him out of a crowd and wanted him, but he continued, "When I kept turning her down and she kept coming back, I started to wonder why she was so intent on beginning a relationship with me so I started to date her."

Only in Ron's world would this logic make sense.

"She was good, I'll give her that," he said with a hard edge to his voice. "She never came out and asked me but looking back it's easy to see how interested she was in everyone's schedule. I was so blind!"

Sensing his distress, she nodded encouragingly and consequently set off fireworks in her head. Ignoring them, she asked, "What happened, Ron?"

"After the attack at the Ministry, I went to Dad and Bill and told them what I suspected. I knew she was behind the attack. The papers reported that someone was after the Minister but I thought she wanted to hurt Dad."

"But she didn't . . ."

"No, but I didn't know that yet. We decided it would be best if I kept tabs on her and the best way to do that was to stay in the relationship," he reasoned. "It was awful, Hermione. I can't tell you how sorry I am about that. I never wanted to keep it from you and Harry but the fewer people who knew, the better."

"That's an arguable point," she replied with a cynical look but she was too happy at this latest revelation to be very mad. Although she knew herself well enough to know that the anger and questions would come later. But for now the knowledge that he didn't love Cynthia and he never had was enough. Impossible as it may seem, the pounding in her head lessened. "We'll leave that fight for another day."

"It was only a matter of time before she upped the stakes and she insisted we get married. So I purposed."

"Just like that . . ."

"No, Hermione," he said in a voice that only hinted at the torment he must have felt. "Days and days of soul-searching. I know you will find this hard to believe but I didn't want my first time asking a woman to marry me to involve a witch I was sure was trying to kill my father but what choice did I have?"

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head at her apology and said, "Nothing to be sorry about. The only thing left to do was tell you and Harry and the rest of the family while under the watchful eye of Cynthia's spies. Anyway, you can imagine how well that went over. I still have a bruise from where Mum hit me with the frying pan."

"Your poor mother."

"Poor mother? Thanks, Hermione, nice to know you're on my side."

"So what happened next?"

"By that time Dad had told the Aurors about our suspicions. They had heightened security for the engagement party but I guess not enough judging from the Floo incident," he muttered.

"Floo incident?"

"Yes, Charlie still talks about it. Although I'm pretty sure it's only because he knows it annoys me. He enjoyed you landing on him too much if you ask me."

She would have rolled her eyes had she not been certain it would have caused her to lose consciousness. She focused on his distracted caress and urged him on. "Back on track."

"Right. Once again, we figured they were after Dad and had tried the Floo network this time. But nothing else happened at the engagement party, much to my disappointment. I wanted to put an end to the farce as soon as possible. It was weeks before anything occured and I didn't even realize it when it did. I thought you had just worked too hard like you always do and had passed out."

He reached up and cupped her cheek. "I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you."

"Um, something did. I was tortured with a Cruciatus curse."

"I meant something permanent," he clarified and though a little annoyed at his cavalier attitude she remained quiet. She had long ago grown accustomed to the fact that Ron didn't always articulate his thoughts and feelings well. "Bill had begun to suspect that Dad wasn't her target. Prat didn't say anything to me though, so I didn't know until she disappeared right after the wedding."

"I think you've skipped an important part."

"Did I?"

"Yes, the part where you were at the wedding but not actually getting married."

"Of course. Sorry about that. The wizard who was leading the ceremony . . ."

"Yes?"

"It was Mad-Eye Moody in disguise," Ron explained. "So you see? He had no authority to officiate at a wedding and therefore we're—"

"Not married!"

"Ten points to Gryffindor." Licking his lips nervously, he added, "About the wedding, Hermione, I hope you know that if it weren't so important to make her think she had won, I would have—"

"We'll talk about that later, Ron," she cut in, knowing she was in no condition to talk about her behavior at the wedding right then. Curiously she asked, "Does Harry know any of this?"

"Yes."

Judging by the shortness of his answer he was uncomfortable. She was obviously feeling better because it took her less than a minute to figure out why. "He's known all along."

"No! Well, not really anyway. I told him about three weeks ago but only because he threatened to beat me senseless if I went through with the wedding. Had you stuck around that night, you probably would have found out too."

"So he's known for almost a month and he managed to keep it a secret," Hermione whispered in awe.

"Hey, Harry's alright. He can keep his mouth shut about the really important stuff."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Shifting away from her intense gaze, he shrugged. "I didn't think you cared one way or another."

"Ron! How could you even think that?"

"You had never given any indication. Believe me, had I any inkling of how you felt, I never would have put you through that. I cringe when I remember the look in your eyes during—"

"Don't worry about it," she hastened to assure him. He looked back at her and smiled that goofy smile of his that always melted her heart. He already knew how she felt so there was little point in denying it now. "I was wrong to keep it from you. Don't feel guilty for not being a mind reader . . . Please finish your story."

"The ceremony was over. The reception was a torturous event, complete with Fred and George keeping you as far away from me as possible so I didn't even have a chance to explain and Harry looking like he was ready to save everybody at the first sign of trouble."

"Did the twins know about Cindy?"

"No, they just didn't think I deserved to be around you," Ron admitted, his ears reddening. "We left and were supposed to apparate to the hotel but she never showed up. I thought for sure that she had finally made her move and went directly back to the Burrow to find Dad perfectly fine albeit slightly tipsy. It was then that Bill deigned to share his theory with the rest of us.

"Harry and I immediately went to your flat but the door was open and you were gone. Then I found your wand laying in the floor . . . I've never been so scared in my life. I thought I had lost you." He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed and because he looked so wounded already she didn't tell him that it made her feel like her fingernails were about to fall off.

"He looked like you," she informed him in a husky voice. "He told me he had made a mistake marrying Cindy and he wanted to make it up to me. But I knew it wasn't you. I just couldn't think fast enough to get away from him before things got out of control."

"Polyjuice potion, I guess. The bastards would stop at nothing to get to you. All that time I thought she was after Dad, she really wanted you and he kept getting in the way. She used me to get close. You want to know the ironic thing, she wanted to use the ritual to destroy Malfoy."

At her bewildered look, he explained, "He had heard about your research and done some of his own. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite as thorough as you. When he tried on three—er, let's be generous and call them volunteers—the result was Cynthia's boyfriend and our two favorite apes had their brains reduced to mush. She decided she was going to get the best kind of revenge on Malfoy—"

"Learn the correct ritual with me to practice on before going to avenge her beloved and take what Malfoy valued most . . ."

"His magical power and the coveted role as most despised bad guy."

"She wouldn't have succeeded though," she mused. "She was blinded by the idea of having the power of three or four wizards. Even if I told her it would only work on the willing I doubt she would have listened."

"It took hours to find where they had taken you," he said, picking back up on his narrative. "I was beside myself by then and Bill tried to make me stay behind. Said Harry and I were too involved and no good could come of being so emotional."

"What did you do?"

"What do you think we did? We waited until they apparated and then followed them. Good thing we did because they weren't even close. You were already unconscious when we found you . . . the doctors weren't sure you would come out with your mind intact."

Shifting uncomfortably at the knowledge that she could have lost herself, she commented quietly, "My memories are a little cloudy about this part. Did I tell her anything?"

Looking offended, he responded, "Of course not. Though it wouldn't have mattered to me if you told her that I have a birthmark on my bum and Harry has a phobia of raisins just so long as you survived long enough for us to save you."

"You have a birthmark on your bum?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!"

Actually, she would very much like to know each and every little thing about Ron. She had a good start but some things had to be learned the hard way she supposed—if one considered waking up next to a gorgeous redhead every morning the hard way. "It's over then."

"Not quite but your part is done. Cynthia and her partners are in front of the Wizarding Council as we speak and they'll probably be sent to Azkaban for the rest of their natural lives. Harry is there making sure they get all the facts straight. Imagine her thinking she could best the most famous witch in the world."

"She might have if not for you and Harry."

"No, you would have found a way," he replied faithfully, pressing a soft kiss on her hand. "Now, you need to rest. I was supposed to get the mediwitch as soon as you woke up."

"Ron, I . . . thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming after me," she said as if he were thick. When she saw the expression in his eyes, she realized that she was the one who was being thick.

"I'll always come for you, Hermione," he promised tenderly. "It's the only thing I do really well."

Her hands drifted up to his face and traced the stubble along his jaw. For the first time she noticed how haggard he was and she instinctively knew he had been at her side every moment she had been unconscious. She saw the adoration in his eyes and wondered if he could see it in hers as well. Pulling slowly, she moved his face towards her because she was unable to shift to meet him. He reverently said her name as their lips touched. It was soft and short, he being worried about hurting her and she being too tired to do much more than lie there and enjoy.

When it ended, he buried his face against her neck and held her lightly. Her hand had found its way into his hair and she smiled at the warmth of his body pressed so cautiously against her own. "I can think of something else you're good at . . ."

"You haven't seen anything yet," he joked and she wondered at the burst of heat that exploded within her when she felt his lips stretch into a grin. A few more minutes of Ron therapy and she would be completed recovered.

Not bothering to conceal her excitement, she asked, "When do I get to see more?"

"I can tell I'm going to have my hands full with you," he said, pushing himself upright to lean over her. Seeing her affronted look, he lowered himself briefly to kiss the tip of her nose. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. To answer your question, not until you're better. I won't touch you again unless you're at a hundred percent."

At her expression of disbelief, he added, "Unless you ask me to of course. Get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."

She closed her eyes obediently, surprising them both. Sleep crept over her mind, making the edges of reality blur softly into a hazy dreamworld. Ron's scent surrounded her, the heat of his skin seeped into her own and when she finally surrendered to the comforting blackness she heard him say, "I love you."

She was at peace for the first time in a long time . . .

And Ron would be there when she woke up.

The End

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really do appreciate your comments and tried to incorporate your feedback into the story as much as possible. This is admittedly a very sappy (not to mention cliche) ending but since I denied you a lot of R/H loving for the sake of story, I felt it was the least I could do.

For those of you who feel I did not explain the events between Chapter Seven and the Epilogue in enough detail, perhaps you're right. I had written another scene where Sinister Cindy gets her 'villian explaining the method behind her madness' moment but found that it made this chapter redundant and therefore it was axed. Ron deserved his chance to explain more than my rather shallow original character did.

For those of you who wanted more of a declaration of undying love in this final chapter, I apologize and feel I owe you an explanation. For one, keep in mind Hermione was quite weak and terribly confused after her ordeal. More importantly, I felt her having an overwhelmingly analytical mind would lead her to want explanations not declarations, especially since it was abundantly clear that Ron did not love Cynthia and her own declaration at the wedding had not frightened him away as evidenced by his presence by her sickbed. She put two and two together and got the correct answer of (groan all you want) forever. (Terrible pun, I really should be ashamed of myself.)