O.O.S: Well, thanks for the reviews. Life is getting busy again so I figured I would just spit out another chapter while I still can. :P I love you all for reading this. Really, I do. And maybe I can finally read some of your stories once I finish the beast that is this story. Man… I had no idea I would get this far… Can't give up now!

Fuck my life.

Hahaha

B.I.S:

Disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling or anything she has made. Man, wouldn't that be cool?

Rating: T for language

Stolen

Chapter 15:

Shattered Glass

Harry's P.O.V:

Two weeks later…

Why is it that when everything is bloody perfect one moment and then the next it has all been ripped away?

Is it a punishment to remind us that we do live on this shitty Earth, and it is fucking impossible for you to have what you want, for that wouldn't be as rewarding as having to fight for it?

Well, fighting is fucking tiring.

I believe I would, out of a lot of people would, know that for a fact.

It's far too tiring and I am far too done with it…

That night, Hermione did not get a chance to talk to Ron for he had been requested to help Mr. Weasley with a problem in France involving a swarm of enchanted staplers. He'd be gone for the next week.

It was half way though December, Ginny would be home soon. I could not imagine having two angry Weasleys in one city. It seemed a little too dangerous for Hermione's and my personal health…

I found myself to be alone for the first time in a while. It was a Saturday morning, which meant no work. Tony had found himself to be going out to lunch with Katie and Hermione had returned to her apartment to make sure that Crookshanks still remembered what she looked like. I also suspected that she was tired of wearing my button up shirts, which were too big on her, even if I insisted that she looked much better in them then I ever would.

Placing myself on my sofa in my living room, I lifted my legs up and rested them on the coffee table. Resting my head back on the back cushion, I closed my eyes and thought back the conversation I had had with Hermione that morning.

I felt a flutter of happiness in my stomach as I thought about us in New York together. Hermione and me actually together.

We were both giving up a lot, but I would have given up by bloody right arm just to be with her.

She was giving up her life; her friends, her job, her relationship.

Ron…

It stung to think about him.

We had been successful in deceiving him for 4 weeks, but it was becoming to be ridiculous. He was my best friend. I had risen to the ultimate level of betrayal.

There were moments I found I couldn't look myself fully in the mirror. Sometimes my shame and guilt shown through the fog I had in my mind. I was certain people could see it in me from time to time. Possibly that was the reason I had avoided Ron so much, I figured he could just look at me and know I had done something…

That I had stabbed him in the back.

He would never forgive me.

I couldn't blame him.

Hermione was by far the best thing that happened to me, and I was sure he felt the same way. We were just two blokes in love with the same girl. It was like any of those cheesy romance films that I had found hidden in the back of Tony's closet. Though, I had the upper hand. She had given me her heart in turn for the end of our friendship with our best friend. The equal part of our 'trio'.

An end for a beginning.

It didn't seem completely fair, but it seemed manageable.

A knock at my front door caused me to open my eyes.

"'Ello?" I called.

"Oy' Harry, it's Ron!"

Fuck…

My mind froze and I was pretty damn sure I had entered a comma. Ron was outside. My best friend whom I had wronged so terribly and had not really spoken to in 3 weeks was outside my door.

"Harry?" he called again.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

It was an out of body experience as I rose to my feet and walked to my front door. Reaching for the door knob, I hesitated for a second before finally reaching forward and pulling it open.

"Hey mate. What are you doing here?" I made quite an effort to not look at him straight in the eyes.

"It that all I get after three weeks of barely talking?" he scoffed, pushing the door open with his hand and stepping into my flat. "Good to see you're alive mate. I was beginning to worry."

I sighed as he walked by me into my flat. I had just hoped he was going to 'stop by' but it seemed he was getting ready to stay.

"I'm hanging in there."

"Good, cause I need your advice." Ron said, turning back to me and smirking softly before placing himself on my couch. It wasn't a very casual position; he was on the edge of the couch and was leaning over slightly. It made me believe that is would be a short visit, or maybe I just hoped it to be that way. I crossed to the other side of the living room and sat down in a chair facing him.

"Sure. Of course."

I hated every part of myself as I looked at Ron. He had no idea. No idea at all.

"Thanks mate." he leaned a little more forward towards me, if that was even much more possible without him having to fall onto the floor I wasn't sure… "It's about 'Mione." he began.

His expression was unreadable. I was unable to tell the true emotion that it held. Ron had never been one that was hard to read, it was a little unnerving.

"Yeah? What about her?"

My pulse started to accelerate.

"Well… She's been distant lately, but that's not really news."

He gazed off to the side and smiled, as if he were picturing her before him. His eyes grew soft and satisfied.

"Though, things have been good, other than that. Very good…" he gave me a wink as if to imply something I had forced from my mind until that moment.

Hermione was 'with' Ron.

I was certain she couldn't have postponed sex for 3 whole weeks with him.

She hadn't said anything… She would have said something!

But why was it my business?

She wasn't mine, yet…

She still belonged to Ron.

Although I thought this threw, I knew a flicker of a pained expression came across my face for an instant. Luckily, Ron had taken to gazing at his clasped hands before him, so he had not seen my moment of weakness.

"Right. Well… That's good mate. But I don't see where you need advice then." I had expected it to be hard to speak for it felt like I had a knot in my throat, but the words came out not far from normal.

"Well… I just…" He looked up at me again, his eyes and face full of life. "I think this is is Harry. I think we are finally in the right place and…" he reached out into his jean pocket and pulled out a small little velvet covered box.

I knew what it was…

I knew what he was going to say.

"I am thinking about asking her to marry me."

That instant, the unseen fantasy life that Hermione and I had created shattered like glass.

Ron wanted to start a real life with Hermione.

Have a little house with her.

Have children with her.

Grow old with her.

Die with her.

I couldn't take her away from him! I couldn't do that.

I wouldn't.

These were things I couldn't give her like he could.

"And I am planning this big thing to ask her after Ginny get back, cause she said she has some ideas... "

He began to ramble on about his plans, their plans. I wasn't sure how I kept my composure. Possibly I had learned a thing or two from Severus Snape. A different type of Occulmency, a non-magic kind.

When Ron finally walked out the door, I had to put a hand over my heart, thinking it was going to burst in my chest from the pain that it was feeling. Leaning against my front door I slid down onto the welcome mat and felt my head spinning. It was all dwindling away.

I couldn't keep any of it.

I couldn't take away Ron's happiness.

I will love you forever, Harry.

Her voice was clear as a bell in my mind.

I had put a spell on her, and possibly maybe myself, but I was not completely sure… I wasn't completely sure of anything to be honest. Taking my free hand I put it to my face to see that tears were dripping from my eyes.

I thanked every God I could think of that Tony was out with Katie at that moment… Though I hated the feeling filling my gut.

Loneliness.

A hero's journey must be taken alone.

That is what I deserved.

Hermione would, my heart ached thinking of her name, she would see past this charm or she would understand. She would know eventually that this wasn't what we thought… It shouldn't be.

No, she wouldn't understand. Who was I kidding?

She would be stubborn; I would just have to lie... I'd have to tell her I didn't love her anymore... A sob was caught in my throat as I brought my legs to my chest and burried my face into my knees. I didn't want to do it, I had NEVER wanted to hurt Hermione again, but I knew I had to.

But Hermione and Ron had to be together.

She would get over me... She was strong. Then, they would start a new life and be offered everything.

Then I, in my fucking suffering would only have the pieces of shattered glass left of the life that could have been.

Hermione's P.O.V:

One week before…

I am getting straight to the point.

He was doing it again.

He didn't leave this time, but that would have been better than the distance that had been created between us. It had formed a hole in my chest that festered around the edges.

He had been pushing me away for I was certain a week. His actions were cold and harsh unlike before. His expressions were always filled with pain and remorse… These were actions foreign to Harry for a long time. I had not seen him like this for quite a long time. Not since Voldemort was around at least.

I thought for once he was happy… Happy with me.

There was a secret in all of his actions, a hesitation.

Every time I demanded to know the truth, it was denied to me. He wouldn't let me back into his heart, and it was hard enough to touch in the first time. Harry has shut the door and changed the locks. I was left outside in the frigid cold with a homeless man tugging at my arm.

With my head against his shoulder on his sofa one night, I felt almost like I was going to be ill. His form was rigid and unwelcoming. Almost like trying to cuddle with the brick wall entrance to Diagon Alley.

I couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. I found myself to keep going over option after option of what possibly could be the problem, but nothing seemed to really fit…

Ginny was coming into town the next day, I figured he was just nervous about her returning… About talking to her. Or maybe the fact that I had still not gotten up enough courage to talk to Ron. Though, he had been so mysterious lately that it was hard to even get enough time to say hello to him. These were only the manageable options… The others tore at the edges of the hole in my chest.

Maybe he was having second thoughts about moving to New York and didn't want to tell me.

Or maybe just the part about me going with him…

Or maybe he was getting sick of me…

I had to fight back the tears that threatened to come from my eyes.

I reached my hand towards one of his. It was set on his knee; it seemed relaxed and a little more welcoming than the rest of his cold form. Touching his fingers, I curled my pinky around his, but he did not move. Usually he would take my hand and hold it close to him, but there was nothing, nothing at all. He was still, motionless. He was nothing.

Tearing my hand away I felt my face getting hot. Rising to my feet I stormed into his kitchen and found myself a bottle of Firewhiskey. Pouring a glass full I slammed the bottle on the table and took a large swig of the liquid. The burn was intense in my throat, but it eased the aching pain in my chest.

"What are you doing?"

I looked up and met his eyes, for what I was certain was the first time in 3 days.

"Oh so you do care?" I snapped. "What a surprise."

I felt childish and stupid, but I couldn't help it.

What had I become?

With that thought I downed the rest of the small scotch glass and then poured more of the flaming liquid into the cup.

Unexpectedly I found Harry's hand over my own on the glass. A flutter of hope filled the hole inside. Looking up at his eyes, I almost saw a little flicker of light as our skin touched, but as soon as it had come, it disappeared as he looked away and slipped his other hand across the counter to grab the glass and take it from my hand.

"You know what Firewhiskey does to you. Don't be foolish." he muttered, grabbing the bottle as well.

Anger, frustration and pain soared through my being as I stared at him in disbelief.

"I am not a child Harry, I can do as I damn well please." Grabbing the bottle I pulled it from his hands and set it back on the counter. Turning away from his face I held on to the counter feeling weak.

"Well you sure are acting like one." he snarled putting the glass back on the table.

We were both silent for a moment, as if we were both trying to think of what just happened.

"Maybe you should leave."

I clenched my fists as I tried to fight back the tears in my eyes.

"What?" I turned towards him and met his eyes. They were colorless, lifeless. It was like I were starring into the dead eyes of an Inferi.

"This isn't working Hermione." his voice was almost monotone.

I put a hand on my chest to comfort the stab of terrible pain in my heart.

"Are you... Are you breaking up with me?" I tried my hardest to not hate the cliche sound of the words I spoke. I took in a few deep breaths before I could compose myself.

"Why?" I uttered, not much louder than a whisper.

"I told you. This isn't working anymore."

"What do you mean this isn't working anymore?" My voice was wavering and weak. "What about New York, Harry? What about our plans? What about what you promised me?"

So many questioned tumbled freely from my mouth.

"How can you do this? How can you ignore this?"

I began to feel reckless as I thrust my hand behind Harry's neck and pulled myself up to his lips. I lips tried all they could to get something out of his, but he was resisting with what seemed like all his strength.

Putting a hand on both of my shoulders, I thought for a moment I had won… But when I felt his hands push against me, removing himself from my lips I knew and felt how much I had lost.

"Stop it Hermione." He pressed my arms against my sides, as if he didn't trust me to be able to keep my hands off of him. I instantly felt sick knowing I probably couldn't…

"You can't honestly tell me you didn't feel anything!" I demanded, trying to be strong, but I was certain that hunger and desperation were flickering in my eyes.

"Yes I can." Letting go of me, he took a step away. I searched for something in his expression…A twitch of a lie. Anything that could tell me that this was all just a lie, but I saw nothing… There was nothing.

"What I thought I was feeling wasn't real Hermione. None of this was real."

I had to grab onto the counter again, fearful that my dizzy mind was going to cause me to fall over.

"Prove it." I dared him. "Tell me right here to my face that you don't love me."

He stayed silent for a moment, a single emotion flickered through his eyes, but it went by so quickly I couldn't see what it was.

"Say it Harry. Say it!" I demanded. "Just fucking say it!"

"I don't love you."

That moment, I felt everything crashing down on me.

"You're lying." A sob was caught in my throat as I stared up at him hopelessly.

"I apologize. But I am not." He sounded so formal. This wasn't Harry, this was someone else. Someone who didn't love me…

"I love Ginny, Hermione. I am sorry if I wasted your time."

This Harry loved Ginny.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't feel. I couldn't anything.

I didn't look as him as I pushed by him out of the kitchen and into the living room. Grabbing my bag I couldn't compose myself to Apparate, so I flung open the front door and slapped it shut.

I was gasping for air, even though there was plenty of it all around me. I felt like I was suffocating. I wasn't sure how I managed to get home, but I did. Shutting my apartment door the tears finally came. Crossing to my kitchen counter I let the tears fall. Leaning against it I wrapped my arms around my body as if to stop it from being torn apart.

I had no where to turn.

No one to talk to.

No one near me.

I was alone…

Looking up past my hair falling in my face I spotted a glass on the table. In an instant of more recklessness I snatched it into my hands and threw it at my wall is all my strength. I watched it, in what felt like slow motion, shatter to pieces. Flashes of his face flickered through my mind like a movie. Stepping back against my wall, I slid down to the floor and put my face into my hands.

Everything had shattered into a million pieces and not a single spell of the hundreds that I knew could do anything about it.

O.O.S: Well that is it. Please review!!! :D