Chapter 9

The old door creaked open, letting the faint golden yellow light seep between the small sea of cracks. I stepped in, lightly sailing across the ancient floorboards. All was right, nothing out of place. Turning towards the bedroom I expected to hear his snores. They had always comforted me, allowing me to breathe, for it meant Ron was still oblivious.

"Hermione," he called from a different direction.

I froze, suddenly the summer sun's rays morphed into winter's frigid icicles.

"Why didn't you leave any for me?"

"What?" I called softly across the room, unaware of his meaning.

He gestured to the empty bottle of firewhiskey, "I know."

I stumbled and fell on the cold hallway floor.

Ron laughed loudly. "Ginny saw you with him a week ago, kissing in the park. She told me tonight when I apparated to her house. See I couldn't find you, thought maybe you had been kidnapped. But I suppose that's why you always went. Well you fooled me," he slurred, remaining eerily calm.

I remained silent. So Ginny knew, everyone knew. Soon the hate would come flooding in from all those I held dear.

"You know, I thought you of all people, Hermione, would understand what it feels like to be cheated on. But I guess if you did you would've left me some of this," he said pointing to the bottle again. "It's just wonderful, though, that there happened to be a bottle of this stronger muggle stuff in that cabinet."

In his hands I saw a bottle of vodka.

Ron continued unaware that his words were mixed together and almost impossible to understand, "It's ironic Hermione. But what that bastard did to you, you turned right around and did it to me. Does this fucking ring mean anything to you?"

"Ron…I…"

"FUCK OFF! WE MADE A GOD DAMN PROMISE!"

"I know…" I stuttered, ashamed that I had put him through what you had done to me. "You deserve…"

"A GIRL WHO LOVES ME AS MUCH AS I LOVE HER!" he screamed interrupting me. Ron stood and crossed over to me; grabbing hold of my bare arms he lifted me and held me tight against the wall. "FUCK HERMIONE, WHEN HE CAME I TOLD HIM I WOULD DIE FOR YOU! I SAID…"

"He came?" I said, cutting him off. "But you said…"

"I SAID HE DIDN'T BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO LOSE YOU TO THAT BASTARD! I GUESS I DID ANYWAYS! JUST FUCK OFF! GO FUCKING SCREW HIM, YOU KNOW HE'S USING YOU!"

I stopped and stared at Ron, deep into his hazel eyes I saw the hurt I had found etched beneath the walls of my heart. And suddenly I felt like a great monster. One so cruel and deceitful that it was just a shadow of blackness; I had taken from Ron his innocence. That crime would never be paid for; punishment of any kind meant nothing, because I could never give it back. I had stolen Ron's love without a second glance. Fuck happily ever after, there's not a single goddamn prince out there. Or princess for that matter.

"Look Ron," I started.

"Out," he said in an angry whisper, a tone I had never known before.

With that I turned and ran, ran back to you, to your promise to disappear.

Everyone knew, my reputation was now skewed, and I would be forever remembered as the girl who had an affair that broke Ron's heart. I was tainted, staining whatever fell in my path. I could almost hear Mrs. Weasley tell the neighbors about 'that good-for-nothing-wife'. Was this really what I had become? That sort of girl mothers try to hide their sons from, the slut every boy uses and then discards. Was this to be my new face?

Yet how dare I? How could I possess sympathy for myself? I, who could fully understand Ron's pain, still felt sorry for my own misfortune. This in itself was humiliating. I was a woman, my actions were my own and no one was to blame. Whatever acts I had committed were done willingly by my hands. I was no longer ignorant. Yet why did I feel like a tragic hero? Was my punishment wholly deserved?

Where had that beautiful young girl, who would stay up late to read, gone wrong? The one who would dance beneath the summer sun all day long, where had she hidden herself? Where was Hermione? This new devil in sheep's clothing was not the girl I was. Images of my innocent childhood came flooding back as fast as the tears streamed down my face. So this was why Peter Pan never wanted to grow up, how I wished that Neverland existed.

For love is too pure to be found among the old. It's most beautiful form radiates through youth. I don't believe that any of us can love as hard as an eight year old. With age, love and fate twist themselves into reality, which brings pain and shattered lives. Take me away to live with children, whose sweet composure never fails to enlighten even the wisest old sage.

"Hermione?" a small but deep voice called out from a distant place, yet loud enough to interrupt my thoughts.

"Harry?" I asked in return. "Why are you here?"

He shuffled his feet and said, "I figured you come to the park to wait for him, and I thought you might…want some company. You see, Ginny told me, because…well…"

"You don't hate me?"

"Look, it's not really my place. I mean Ron's always been my best friend, but so have you. I'm not 15 anymore. I don't have to choose sides," Harry said to his dirty shoes.

I jumped up and hugged him tight, glad to know there was one person left who wouldn't despise me. "You know they're all going hate me?"

"Well…I don't…think…"

"It's ok, I understand."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. "But I…"

"What happened to being a kid? It seems like we missed out," I said, interrupting his thought process. "I mean the second we got out of Hogwarts and even before hand, there was always the war. It feels like we never had time to grow up, like we skipped a whole phase…and whatever it was it was important."

Harry looked and me and nodded.

"Why did I have to fuck it all up?"

He remained silent and gestured towards the bench.

"I never in a million years thought I would do this. I just want to be kids again…" my voice broke and I leaned into Harry's shoulder.

He reached out and stroked my hair, bringing restless sleep.

When I awoke the sun had already risen and Harry's arms were holding me tight towards his chest. The cheerful chatter of aimless bird's song filled the sweet morning air and a soft layer of dew covered us like a blanket. He snored quietly, peacefully in my ear. If only I could freeze time forever and never move.

"Harry," I whispered sitting up. "Wake up; Ginny will wonder if you've run off with Draco too."

"Hmmm," he said as I shook sleep from his tired eyes.

"It's time to go," I repeated.

"But Mione it's too early."

"Just go, I don't want to get in any more trouble," I said.

Harry stood and looked deep into my glazed eyes, "Fine I'm going. Just promise me you'll write and come back to see me."

"Promise," I smiled.

"I love you," he said before walking off, away from me.

Deep within me, I knew I would never see Harry again. I knew he'd go home to Ginny and they'd marry eventually, soon after, red headed children with emerald green eyes would run wild round their blooming garden. Ron and his new wife would laugh together and wait for their first baby, as the hopeful Godparents. Harry and Ginny would grow old together, and I would fade from memory, becoming a fragmented piece of the forgotten past. The only time they would recall my face would be when Hogwarts was mentioned. Then maybe they would remember me in my childhood before this corruption found me. Eventually though they would die hand in hand together in old age, blissfully unaware of my existence.

I sighed, but that was a long time in coming, as were you. I'd said that I'd meet you again at midnight. That was a whole day away, hours to replay last night's scenes in my mind. Minutes to rethink what I had done wrong. Ages to wonder if Ron would ever forgive me.

Yet the day was young and maybe just once I could slip back into youth. Maybe I could swim in the azure fountain, air dry on the steaming stone beneath the golden fire rays of the sun and daydream of fairytales. Maybe I could close my eyes and awake in a glorious castle of my dreams. Or maybe I could gracefully dance across the soft green grass ignorant to those who stood in the shadows and sing as though no one was gifted with hearing. Or just maybe I could forget pain for a day.

Instead I let sleep take me again, hoping that the next face I would see was to be yours.