A/N: I know some of you won't like me for this chapter, but it's essential to the plot and I already wrote this before HBP. But just so you know, I'm an H/R shipper and we all know who's going to be at the losing end of this romance. (Can't argue with JKR, she already confirmed it in HBP). Don't worry, Harry will have someone to comfort him. It's just that it will take some time for her to come along.

Chapter Thirty Four

Aftermath

He was certainly dreaming. For it was only in his dreams that she appeared like this to him—sweet, soft and yielding to his every touch. Yet, it wasn't perfect. It was a bit awkward and there were moments he didn't know what to do. That never happened in his dreams. But it made it seem even better. It felt more real to him and he savored that fact that even his dreams can feel as real.

He watched her closed eyes as she snuggled closer to his shoulder. Her breathing was slowing down and he knew she was close to falling asleep. He too felt the exhaustion kicking in, but he kept himself awake for he knew the dream would end if he closed his eyes. He slowly brushed a lock of her hair to clear her forehead. When it was bare, he leaned down to kiss it.

"I love you," he whispered.

She moaned softly in his chest and clutched tighter to him. She felt her lips move against his skin and leaned forward to hear her whisper:

"I love you too. It's always been you…Ron."

His heart suddenly went full stop and his head began to spin. RON! The name rang on his ears and what sleepiness he had before, left him at this sudden realization:

This wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare!

And even more horrifying that the nightmare was very real!

He struggled to put everything from the moment he could remember. There was no reluctance on Hermione's part. His earliest recollection of this episode was becoming aware of her lips on his. He assumed this was all part of his own fantasy so he didn't hesitate about returning every amount of passion she gave.

Passion she was giving to Ron! He thought in a mixture of terror and disappointment.

"Ron…" he called out nervously. "Are you awake?"

There was no response and it confirmed what he thought. Ron must have fallen asleep halfway through his encounter with Hermione—and he inadvertently continued it!

He couldn't breathe. Hermione's body against his suddenly felt stifling. Her warmth on his chest felt like flames. Careful not to wake her, he eased himself out of bed, put on whatever clothes Ron had tossed out on the floor and ran from his bedroom as if he was being chased by a thousand dark lords.

It was early morning but the sky was overcast and let out an unusual sudden summer downpour. He ran aimlessly into the rain, willing it to wash out his horror. But not even the icy water could clear his conscience.

Ron would never forgive him! After all Ron had done for him—gave him a new life, endured his lost of privacy, so he, Harry could live—Harry had done the unthinkable!

He stumbled over something on the ground and grasped at something before him to break his fall on the grass. He looked up to find his father's death marker. He banged his head against the cold stone and wished he was gone from this earth rather than face Ron and continue to live with the betrayal.

He closed his eyes and thought that in a few hours, he'll get his wish.

Biting cold. It felt like his whole body was frozen.

That wasn't how he expected to waken. He expected a warm bed and the even warmer sensation of Hermione next to him. Instead he found himself completely wet and shivering next to James Potter's death marker with a rather painful fresh bruise on his forehead.

"Harry? Harry! Are you awake?"

There was an awkward silence, and he barely heard Harry whisper something back to let him know he was there. Then it assailed him. It was a mixture of feelings he couldn't place—but all of them were sad, heartbreakingly sad. There was so much raw emotion he was completely disoriented for a moment.

"Harry? What happened?" His own worry added to the already compounding emotions Harry was having so his body shook uncontrollably.

"HARRY! Tell me what's wrong? Is it Hermione? Did something happen to her? Why are we here!"

Harry just shook their head. Ron tried to focus on at least one of the feelings Harry was having, the most prominent one—it was guilt coupled with humiliation. Now why would Harry be feeling like that? A growing sense of dread overcame him and he tried to recall what happened before he fell unconscious. He had fallen asleep when he and Hermione had rested a bit. He didn't want to since she was still up, but his mind was too tired.

HIS MIND was too tired, but not Harry's!

"Were you awake last night?" he asked suspiciously.

Harry didn't respond, but his own guilty feelings betrayed him to Ron.

"Damn it, Harry! When did you wake up?"

"Ron, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"WHEN DID YOU WAKE UP?"

"After you… after you fell asleep, I think… I was confused… I swear, I wouldn't have done anything if—"

Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he could feel it in Harry's emotions and he knew his suspicions were correct. "You didn't… After I was unconscious…" Ron felt sick.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Harry pleaded. "I mean I thought I was dreaming. I didn't think it was real, Ron I'm so sorry."

"What do you mean you thought it was a dream?" Ron snapped. "Are you telling me you've dreaming of Hermione…"

Another surge of guilty feelings answered for Ron and it was all too clear.

"You're in love with her!" he gasped. He was glad he was already sitting on the ground or else he thought he might have collapsed.

"I tried not to, believe me I did. I didn't want to feel this way," Harry explained miserably.

Ron punched Harry's father's marker and his knuckles ached. He felt a certain satisfaction that Harry could feel the same pain. He wanted to punch him in the face if he could.

"YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HER? BLOODY HELL, YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HER AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME! DAMN YOU HARRY! YOU KNEW! YOU KNEW I LOVED HER AND YOU KEPT THIS FROM ME! DID YOU THINK YOU'D USE ME TO GET TO HER? WAS THAT IT HARRY? WERE YOU PLANNING THIS ALL ALONG!"

Harry shook their head. "No, I never intended…"

Harry didn't go on but Ron wished he just said something other than let his feelings speak the apologies. He would have preferred his friend to be stuttering with stupid explanations and he didn't have to believe any of them and he'd have an excuse to curse him into the next continent. But he couldn't have even the satisfaction of hexing Harry. There was no denying Harry was truly sorry for it, and on top of it all Ron was pitying him. Harry's heart was breaking because the first girl he had ever loved had chosen his best friend and he knew he will never have her.

Ron let out a scream of curses and he let Harry feel the extent of his anger but it was a poor substitute for venting out on someone he couldn't hurt without hurting himself.

"Do with me whatever you want Ron, I deserve it." Harry said.

"Just shut up, Harry. I don't want to talk to you." Ron cursed him again. He was tired, angry and frustrated. But the fusion of feelings with Harry's only made it worse. It felt too much, like his head would explode.

I can't handle this. I need to get off this!

He wished someone would just knock him unconscious, but there was no one there but Hermione and Mickey. He doubted if either of them would do that to him. There had to be another way. An idea struck him and he doubled back into the house and straight into the cellar. He searched among the shelves of wines and spirits that Mickey had put away neatly until he found a single bottle of Firewhisky.

Using his wand, he opened the bottle and took a huge gulp of it. It burned his throat so he spat and coughed for several minutes. When it was clear, he took another gulp and savored the same burning sensation. He kept at it, until he finished off the entire bottle. The alcohol had dulled a bit of his senses, but he felt it wasn't enough. He looked around for another one, but there was nothing there but tame wines.

"You really should get Mickey to stack us something stronger, Harry," Ron said sarcastically. He took one bottle. "All we have is bubbly? This is pathetic Potter!" He tossed the bottle to the side and apparated out of the house not caring if he splinched himself. He thought it would all be the better if he did. At least, Harry would splinch with him.

Fortunately or unfortunately (Ron wasn't certain which), he appeared whole in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He entered the pub and ordered the strongest drink they had. He downed one glass after the other, reveling in the woozy feeling he got. Harry didn't even try to stop him. He could feel Harry just as desperate for the next drink as he was.

His senses were hazy, but it was still not enough. He could still remember, though not as much. He signaled to the barkeeper for another and barely registered when the man refused. He was saying something angrily at him, but he couldn't quite understand him.

"Ronald! 'Arry! What are you doing!" he heard a familiar female voice above him. He felt himself fall and land painfully on the buttocks. But the next thing he knew, someone was pouring down some bitter liquid down his throat. He spat it out but he managed to drink most of it.

He heard someone curse in French and mutter a cleaning charm. His vision was starting to clear along with most of his senses and he found a stern strawberry blonde glaring down at him.

"Maddy… what the bloody hell are you doing here?"

The girl barked something to him in French, but he caught the words "idiots" and "stupid" in between her foreign invectives so he got the idea.

"I 'ope you are pleased with yourselves," she said harshly. "You are Junior Aurors! If any of ze Aurors saw you 'ave been drinking as you are, you could be suspended! You are lucky I found you when I did!"

Ron massaged his temple to clear his head even more before looking around. He was on a couch in an unfamiliar room. "Where am I?"

"My 'ouse," Maddy replied. "I brought you 'ome and gave you a sobering potion before you get into trouble. Now zat you are awake, you can go 'ome. Zat potion will sober you immediately but will kick you with two times ze 'angover an 'our later."

"Thanks a lot," Ron replied sarcastically.

"What were you thinking? Drinking like zat? Are you both zhere? Ron? 'Arry?"

"Yes, me and my so-called bloody best friend Harry are here!" Ron roared. "But right now, he's not allowed to talk so don't ask!"

He felt her sit next to them and pulled at his face so she would look at them. "What eez wrong?"

Ron shook his head. "I can't tell you… it's complicated. Listen, I don't feel like going home right now… I just can't."

That was partly true. Hermione was still at home and he didn't want to face her now, not when he was close to going crazy with jealousy. He wanted Harry to be as far away from her as possible because at the back of his mind he was afraid that if Harry was anywhere near her he might not be able to control himself.

Maddy eyed him carefully. "I understand. You need not tell me," she said. "You can sleep on my divan today."

Ron managed to smile at her. "Thanks, Maddy. Thanks a lot." He felt Harry's gratitude for her as well.

"What zhanks?" she asked with a mock smirk. "You caused me a lot of trouble and you made me late for meeting with Fleur on my only 'oliday. You owe me. Buy me dinner next time you are free. You are rich enough anyway."

"I'll buy you five dinners if you want. I'll even get you the best seats at this season's Quidditch championship game. Just let me sleep."

"Alright," she said haughtily and tossed him a pillow. "I am going off to meet Fleur," she added before apparating away.

Ron lay back on the couch but found it hard to get any sleep. Now that he was sober he could think. Harry had either calmed down or he was asleep so Ron took the opportunity to brood and feel properly angry again. Just before the side effects of Maddy's potion began to kick in, he came to a resolution. It was the hardest decision he had to make but he had to.

Tomorrow, he thought. Everything would be done tomorrow. He just hoped he had the will to do it.