“I’m bloody serious, Ronald! I swear to you, I will leave and never come back!”

Hermione Jane Granger shrieked across the room as her fiancé laughed at her silly threat. They were in the middle of a terrible row, though neither of them could remember what it was about. But anyone could tell it was terrible, because Hermione rarely used the expression bloody. Or made threats to leave and never come back.

“You know very well you would never do that, Hermione,” Ron Weasley responded coolly, eyeing her with annoyance, not quite rage. It was an odd situation, because the fiery red-head was usually the one yelling threats and losing control. His coolness melted away with the bushy haired woman’s next comment, however.

“When Harry and I fought, and I threatened to leave, he told me he would die if he left,” she said, looking down and losing her fervor momentarily, “He didn’t scoff it off.” She looked up at Ron, and was suddenly terrified. She saw the explosion growing behind his eyes. It was moments, seconds, away. And then suddenly….

“BLOODY HELL!” he roared, as he, literally, jumped over the table he was standing behind and ran forward to Hermione, “Would you give it up already?!?! HARRY IS DEAD! Could you quit bloody comparing me to him?”

Their eyes locked, he was but a few feet away now. Calmly, Ron delivered his next incredibly hurtful comment, right to the sad girl’s face. “And anyway, you not leaving him didn’t do much to stop him from dying, now did it?”

He regretted it as soon as he finished speaking. His earlier rant could be forgiven, as could her threat. But, he knew at once, reminding Hermione that she didn’t, couldn’t really, do anything to help Harry, was unforgivable.

At least, it would’ve been for most people. But, after years of verbal wars with this boy, Hermione knew what to expect. Calmly, she turned away from him, walked to the couch, and sat down.

“What are we doing, Ron?” she asked, her voice totally and completely depressed. Ron was hurt by its very sound. There was no hope in that voice. Just total confusion and insecurity.



Ron, can I talk to you?” It was a Saturday morning, late in the seventh year of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. The three of them were about to go visit the village of Hogsmeade, but Harry pulled Ron aside before they left the dormitory.

“What’s up, mate?” Ron asked, sitting next to Harry on his bed.

Harry sighed, and slowly began. “Ron,” he said slowly, and then continued, “You know how much I care about Hermione, right?” He looked up at this point, only to see a totally confused Ron.

“Harry,” he almost laughed as he spoke, “Harry, I’m the one who told you how you felt about Hermione. Without me, there would be no you and Hermione. Of course I know how much you care about her. What’s the deal here?”

“I want you to promise me, Ron, that if anything happens to me, ever, you’ll take care of Hermione. Look after her, make sure she’s happy. Will you do that for me, mate?” Harry looked Ron in the eye, waiting eagerly for his friend’s response.

“Of course I will, Harry,” Ron said, putting his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “But nothing is going to happen to you.”



He slowly walked over and sat down in the chair across from Hermione, still feeling too guilty to sit next to her. “What are we doing?” He repeated, considering his answer carefully.

“Well,” he said, “Harry made me promise to take care of you; I’ve told you that before. And, well, you told me you loved me, and that you would marry me. And I just figured that this would be the best way to take care of you, don’t you think?”

Hermione sighed. “I know, Ron, I know. But I’m just not sure anymore.” She paused here, fingering the ring on her finger. It had a tasteful, but large, emerald green stone on it. She knew that Ron had chosen green as a tribute to Harry, probably the most thoughtful thing he’d ever done. She slipped it off, and glanced at the inscription.

‘To Hermione Granger, a truly amazing friend…With all my love, Ron’

“Ron,” she asked suddenly, surprising even herself with her sudden perkiness, “Ron, do you love me?”

He stared back at her, caught totally off guard. “Of course I love you,” he stammered out, unsure of what she wanted to hear, “Why else would I be marrying you?” He paused here for a moment, and then asked, “Do you love me?” Before Hermione could answer in the same manner he had, he added, “As more than a friend?”

“No,” she said, after only a moment of thought, and she looked down, not daring to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ron.”

“Hermione, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, moving from the chair to a seat on the couch next to her. “I love you more than anyone else in the whole world,” she sighed, and he quickly continued, “But the person I love right now is my best friend.”

For a moment, Hermione continued to seem depressed. And then, she slowly turned her bushy brown haired head, and met Ron’s eyes with her own. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in three years, Ron,” she said, smiling him and hugging him.

He sighed as she pulled away. “So,” he began, scratching his head absent mindedly, “If we only love each other as friends, how did we get here?”

“Don’t you remember?” she asked, grabbing his hand, “It was right after Harry died, after the funeral.”





A/N; Keep reading, please, I promise, the twist at the end will SHOCK you.
Also, this is my first fic with some romance in it, so please be kind in your reviews

No one knew what to do. The rest of the wizarding world rejoiced at the death of their tormentor. But a small group of people sat in a small cemetery at a quiet funeral, tears in everyone’s eyes.

Hermione herself had told them to celebrate. She, the one who cared about Harry more than anyone, had pointed out that he was in a better place. His life was easy now, he was with his parents. And with Sirius, and with Lupin. And he was with everyone else who had fallen. She knew, she told them, that Harry would want celebration, not mourning. But Hermione was the one who cried the most.

All through the ceremony, she leaned her head on Ron’s shoulder, crying her eyes out. He valiantly tried to hold back the tears that he knew were bound to come. By the time Dumbledore was done speaking and it was his turn, he wasn’t sure if he could make it. As he walked back to his seat, after what had been a difficult to give, but beautiful speech, the tears came. Harry was dead. There was no longer a happy trio, just a lonesome duet.

After the ceremony, everyone headed for the Leaky Cauldron for a funeral luncheon/celebration. Ron was about to apparate, when he noticed Hermione was walking towards a lonely tree, very similar to the one the three of them always sat under at Hogwarts.

“Hermione?” he called, unsure if she wanted company. There was no response, and when she reached the tree, she sank to the ground and wept. He remembered his vow to Harry, and in a moment, he was at her side.

“Hermione?” he repeated, this time in a soft, gentle whisper. She looked up at him, and her gaze scared him. She looked so alone, so depressed. But more importantly, she didn’t seem to recognize him.

“Who are you?” she asked, wiping her eyes and shivering in fear. “What am I doing here? Why am I all alone?” The last question seemed to be directed at the world in general. After a moment, she seemed to regain her senses.

“Oh, Ron,” she cried, falling into his open arms. “I’m sorry, Ron, I just felt so alone, and suddenly, I couldn’t remember anything. I couldn’t remember anything except…except Harry.” A fresh wave of tears fell from her yes, and he pulled her tightly to him.

“Ron, I need you to stay with me,” she pleaded, pulling away to look into his eyes. “I love you, Ron, not like I loved Harry, but I love you. I need you to be with me. Otherwise,” she paused, took a deep breath, and continued, “Otherwise, I just won’t make it.”


“Of course I remember that, ‘Mione,” he said, shaking his head, “But, it just doesn’t make any sense. How could we have gotten to this point? Yelling and screaming, fighting like cats, threatening each other, and using Harry as a weapon?”
“
I guess, Ron, we’re just no meant to be more than friends,” she looked at him, and started, to his immense surprise, to laugh. “Funny, isn’t it, how you’re always the last to know how you feel about someone? Ginny told me that I loved Harry, you told Harry he loved me, and boom, it was true! I’m sure everyone could tell, from the day you asked me to marry you that it would never work. That’s why they kept telling us to wait a little longer.” She giggled again, and smiled, adding, “It’s a good thing your mum is so convincing!”

Ron smiled back, but just couldn’t get as happy as Hermione was. For nearly two years, he had been engaged to Hermione. For one year before that, he had spent every moment devoted to her, and only her. And now, with the realization that they shouldn’t be together, another girl drifted into his mind. She had long, sandy blonde hair and really ridiculous glasses, and even more ridiculous ideas. But Ron was remembering a moment, a moment from the beginning of their seventh year.

“Hello, Ronald,” a voice said as he rushed down to breakfast. He turned to see Luna Lovegood, clutching books to her chest and staring at him avidly. “Late for breakfast, are you?” she asked, smiling coyly.

“Well,” he said, grinning back, “If Harry hadn’t been in such a hurry to meet Hermione, he might’ve woken me up!” They both chuckled. Harry and Hermione were really quite adorable together.

“So,” he said, attempting to strike up a conversation, despite his tardiness. He didn’t need breakfast. “What’s you first class today?”

“Oh, I think I have Potions first,” she said, rolling her eyes, “I do hope Professor Snape will be slightly more bearable this year.”

“He’s rotten to you too, is he?” Ron asked, trying to make his voice sound as mature and smooth as he could.

“Oh, really, Ronald, who is he not rotten too?” she asked, smiling once again.

“You seem different, Luna,” he began, voicing his thoughts, “No offense, but you’re not as weird as you used to be.”

“Oh, none taken,” she was clearly trying her best to hold back a grin as she continued, “Falling in love can do a lot to your personality.” And with that, she kissed him swiftly on the lips and rushed off.

“Ron?” Hermione asked, pulling him out of his reverie, “Are you thinking about Luna?”

He smiled and sheepishly said, “How could you tell?”

“I’m sorry, Ron, I never even thought of her, all these years. I’ve been so selfish,” she started to tear up, and Ron put his arm around her.

“You needed me, ‘Mione, I don’t regret being here for you,” he paused to think, and then decided he’d best hurry it up if he was going to win her back, “But listen, now that we’re just friends again-”

“Of course,” she declared, throwing his arm off her, standing up, and pointing towards the door, “Get out there and find her! You two were made for each other!”

He also jumped up, grinned a huge grin, and exclaimed, “You are the most wonderful person, Hermione,” kissed her on the cheek, and ran out the door.

“Yeah,” she said to herself, slumping into a chair, “they were made for each other. Kinda like me and Harry.”

Hermione began to cry. The tears just would not stop coming. She couldn’t stop thinking about Harry, and everything he was missing because of his untimely death. He had become a legend, worshipped and adored by wizards everywhere. But he never had the chance to be a normal guy.

And then she thought about what she had missed because of Harry’s death. Hermione didn’t want to seem selfish, but frankly, his death had ruined her life. She had lost the one thing she needed, the love she had always longed for.

She slowly stood up and walked to the window of the flat she shared with Ron. (They weren’t technically “living together,” they just lived in the same apartment.) She looked out the window. She watched a few people walk by on the street below. And then, without warning she jumped.




Hermione bolted up in her bed. She stared around, wide-eyed and confused. “I’m, I’m in the dormitory…” she said to herself, totally bewildered. “It was all a dream!”

She was about to happily settle down to sleep, when she suddenly felt a pang of worry. What if the dream came back? “I gotta stay awake,” she thought, as she looked around the room. “I know, I’ll go make some hats.”

And Hermione Granger grabbed her needles and material and headed out of the girl’s dormitory to the common room, trying her best to forget the dream and hoping that the rest of her nights would be filled with refreshing, dreamless sleep.



A/n: so, were u SHOCKED? this was a very long chapter, at least for me, it probably coulda been two, but my friend Janyne couldn't wait to be SHOCKED, so this one goes out to her!
thanx for reading, i hope u liked it....be sure to keep an eye out for a sequel/type thing that i just finished posting (it should be much better than this one)