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More Than a Broken Vow by SomberBallad

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Chapter Notes: My first shot at even emulating a R/Hr fiction, so I hope it's alright.


Ron,

I’ve always wondered … what happens to the warm sun when it crashes with the horizon and disappears for the night? Does it just rest peacefully for a while, considering the day for what it was, dreaming of what will be tomorrow? Or is the sun a prisoner of the horizon -- must it fight back each night for its right to return the next day? If he loses, is that why there are clouds that cover the world some days? I look at the sunset and think of meaningless things and silly questions to avoid what I really need to say. The sunset is not a metaphor; it is just a sunset, and to speak in verse will just prolong this painful feeling I must relay to you.

Three years ago, I made a vow to you to be faithful, and in all these years I never betrayed that vow. I have never looked at another man with lust or even come close to abandoning the promise I made. The thought of betraying you was more than I could bear, and still is. Yet I feel like I owe you an apology because I have been unfaithful, not in the flesh but in the heart.

It was four years ago that you told me you loved me, at a time when I needed a shoulder and yours was the only one I could see. I remember it like it was yesterday; Dumbledore’s funeral was like a dream, though an evil reality to shatter all hopes of winning the war. I never could turn to Harry, his demons were too great, but you seemed to care, and you told me you loved me. At the time that was all I wanted to hear, and for that I loved you in return. After all, Dumbledore had always said that love would win the war.

A year later we were married, and though the happiness that filled my heart was hopeful, the darkness of the war still impended. Those who had fallen and those who had died but were still living plagued our hearts, and Harry was losing all faith, losing his heart. How could we win with a hero who was at the point of death? I still believed, though, and the night before Voldemort was killed Harry came to see me. You were with Charlie trying to help him tame the dragons who had started to overrun China.

Harry told me his doubts, his secrets, the dark plague that burdened his heart, and about all the death he had carried for so many years. I wept and died for him; if only you could have heard, Ron, you would have died for him too. There were so many things we never knew. I offered to store some of his secrets with me, but he wouldn’t let me. He said I couldn’t bear to carry even the smallest pieces of his heart with me. He said my heart was too innocent; I laughed at him and told him I was not the child he’d met on the train almost eight years ago. I performed the charm and took some of the memories, some he would probably never want back. The sad thing was that I only took pieces of everything he told me; the worst was still inside him.

He still beat Voldemort, and though I would never take credit for his victory, I was glad it was over with because I couldn’t take more of his pain or I might have died in agony. After Voldemort died I expected everything to turn back to normal -- like magic. But the dead were still dead, and there were scars on our bodies and our hearts that would never heal. The generation to come was free but we were still held captive by the darkness of Voldemort’s power, whether he intended it or not.

After that time you were sure everything was okay, we could finally be happy together. And with Ginny’s marriage to Dean in the fall, everything seemed to be coming together. That was the thing about you, Ron -- you could always be unaffected by the shadows of the past. Harry was not so lucky. Seeing him at the wedding was the first time I had seen him since that night I took his memories. He was mournful, and closed off as if nothing had changed in the last few months. I didn’t need to know why. I could feel the choking influence too, and he had to watch the girl of his dreams be wed off to someone that did not have his past. I never hated Ginny more than I did in that moment, hurting Harry the way she did. He didn’t need more pain from his friends; he got enough from himself, from Voldemort. He disappeared that day without saying goodbye, and since then we have searched for him using all the resources we have. But it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t want to be found.

Every day since Ginny’s wedding I have died for him. He was a young boy, he is a young man and he is alone, and he has always been alone. I can help him, Ron -- I can, because I do love him. But I need to find him, and maybe if he knows that it’s just me looking then he’ll come out and let me save him. I don’t know how I’m going to find him, but I have to or I’m going to die just like he is dying, alone, full of sorrow, regret and malice. His face is implanted in my memory, that handsome face, he was all dressed up in a tux that day to watch his love die, and that image is forever fixed in my mind until I find him again. He needs me Ron, and I need him; we complete something within one another. I don’t know if it was the memories or the war or destiny but he needs me right now and without me he will die, I know it.

I always did love you, Ron; your shoulder and your smile were there to protect me from many a truth and all the pain in the world. But you could only protect me for so long. Now the only one who can save me is Harry, but first I must rescue him from self-destruction. Don’t be sad that I’m going; one day I will come back with Harry and we can be friends again. It will never be the same, but I couldn’t bear for any of us to be alone again. Be patient, my sweet friend, and don’t let the darkness take hold of your heart, the light is what kept me going and what I must remember until I find him.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t be faithful but I think we’ve come to a place where you don’t need me anymore. Harry needs me now, and I will find him, till death do us part.

Do not give up hope for me,
Hermione