Forever is Only Years Away
Prologue: Whisper and be Silent
Summary: Seven years after their final year of Hogwarts, Hermione finds herself looking for the Ron she has lost, Ron has lost something so very dear to him that it's driving him to madness and he's happy hiding as an Auror from all those that remind him of his past. Harry and Ginny realize that those lost are never forgotten and life is just starting. This story is mainly against and darkness, that is my style of writing, just be warned.
Pairings: Mainly Ron/Hermoine but also includes bits of Harry/Ginny and Lupin/Tonks
Spoilers: Up to "Order of Phoenix"
Legal Disclaimer: This is just fun fanfiction, I do not own the characters in any way all praise and credit to J.K. Rowling and Scholastics.
Rating: This is an adult fiction with adult themes, I will be posting (if any) the sexual section in my own site so only the RATED R version of the fiction will be here.
Archiving: ASK FIRST
Special thanks to Mia, who without knowing anything about Harry Potter did my beta *kiss*
Wiltedroot grass, best for smoking in the summer when the air was too hot to be moist, too cool to be unbearable. Just right. He remembered summers growing up in Mami's house, his father's mother. Wiltedroot grew on the side of the old house where weeds of no kind would try to eat it and taunt it. Back then he would save it for Mami, who would toast it and dry it, roll it on rice paper and smoke it in Winter when the wind was too cold.
Many times his father would ask Mami to stop smoking, but she would make a sort of spitting noise, growl and turn the other way. His Mami was a horrid woman to live with. After Grandpa Weasley died, she would talk non-stop to his portrait that hung in the hall. The only thing he did was sleep and eat the ever replenishing fruit painted in the portrait with him.
Ronald knew that wasn't his Grandpa. Arthur knew that wasn't his father but for his Mami, it was as good being flesh.
It reminded him, at times, of those days from long ago, when the Order's headquarters were settled inside the House of Black, and the old house elf whose name he had forgotten by now used to talk to Sirus' mother who hung in the hall.
People and creatures just went crazy, lost it and never found it to a point of lunacy... he wondered if he would speak to her picture late in his day. If he didn't get kill before that.
He looked down at the small picture in his hand... a picture of ages past. A picture of yesterdays and tomorrow, of tests and friendships and real danger. Of youth. Her back was leaning against his chest, soft russet hair touching his nostrils ever so softly, his arms wrapped around her slim waist, holding her, molding her against his body. She was smiling at him, through a frame of everlasting lies. In the portrait he was a happy bloke, with rosy cheeks and a life of eternity ahead of them. Life was a promise and they were ready to take it, they were so in love. Holding hands in the hall, fighting in the classroom, kissing in their rooms and in moments where no eye was on them intimacy as he'd never known before.
No one else's. Not bloody Krum (he smiled when he remembered their mud fight in 6th year)
His Hermoine Granger.
He never doubted his love and because he loved her so he had left. No, he had run away, he had disappeared, because he himself had lied.
He was a walking corpse and everyone knew it.
The picture snapped and disintegrated his bare hands, knowing it would find it's way into his inner secret pocket were he kept other things of her, shrunken and hidden from the outside eye. There were things you didn't even share with oneself.
"We got target."
He turned to look at Luke, Luke Guess. The younger Auror was petrified of him and he knew it... anyone would say there was a grand difference of age... but there was a grand difference of size and knowledge... and character.
Where Ron (or Cherry-gun as his co-workers called him) was almost 6'3, Luke was barely 5'6. Where Ron had grown broad and muscular, Luke was still skimpy and skinny. Where Ron never smiled, Luke cracked a joke at every change he got. Where Ron never talked, Luke didn't know how to stop (resulting in many Silencio spells from Ron). While Ron smoked a pack of Wiltedweed Grass a day, Luke hid them from him (then hid himself for hours afterwards).
Ron hated Lupin for finding him someone like Luke for a partner but Tonks had convinced him that no one else was available... since almost every other Auror had died in the great battle.
Many had died. Too many. Too many for him to bear... his spirit had died along with them, he was just a walking corpse, like many called him.
He had many names, like the night he came and went. He had nothing to loose.
"Southeast?" Ron asked quietly, picking up his black leather long coat, pulled it over his signature black attire.
Luke nodded and dashed to grab his grass smokes, but he was never as fast as Ron who had them hidden and well kept before Luke could blink.
"Show off." Luke hissed. "Those will kill you. Don't you see all those Truth for Wizards commercials? No healer can help you!"
"Ain't asking for help, mate." Ron said quietly walked right pass him. He hated when Luke went righteous on him.
"Fine! But when you're dying and coughing, don't call for Luke, because Luke wont help!" Luke called out behind him.
Ron ignored him and kept walking, throwing his dying bud in the air, not watching as it disintegrated and was made into nothing. He could feel Luke dashing after him, always dashing after him, like a house elf.
House elf... Hermoine.
His jaw tightened and he shook his head.
"What you need, if you ask me, is a good witch to take care of you, put up with your mood swings, make you eat right and poison you with a sense of humor--"
Ron had turned, making Luke collide with his iron chest as growls floated from his tighten jaw.
"What have we talked about my personal life?" Ron growled.
Luke played with his bottom lip, wand scratching his mass of blonde hair. "Hum... that you don't have one?"
"Exactly." Ron got closer, bending his frame to be face to face with Luke. "So we don't talk about it. It's no one's business, mate."
Luke glared at him, completely accustomed to having every part of his anatomy threatened, however, his insides were jelly and he knew that Ron knew. "Fine. Stay unhappy, it obviously makes you happy and content. But if I have to hear Desreé tell me again 'We can't just leave him alone on a Friday night' I'll.... I'll d-do .....something nasty."
Ron arched his eyebrow.
Luke's voice wavered. "Like putting pumpkin juice in your flask.... or maybe nothing since you're looking at me like this is the last moment of my life."
Ron pulled back. "And don't you forget it." He turned and walked away.
Luke stood still for a moment and choked a laugh. "Ha! A joke! Cherry-gun has made a joke!" He grabbed his chest, laughing. "Oh, that was good, even for you... hah... I kill myself."
But he was alone, his skinny legs scrambled to catch up to Ron who was oblivious at his moments of fun. "Hey Cherry-gun, you... you're gone without me."
He looked around the old hidden fort. Some aurors were having a spot of tea, a giant was being bathed (horrible sight) and some children were running after a dog by the fire.
"He just left."
Luke jumped out of his skin, spinning around to find Lupin staring down at him.
"Dumbledore in heaven! Don't scare me that way!" he snapped, glaring at the older man.
"He left on his own again." Remus sighed and rubbed his hand on his care-worn face. "He'd hate it if we followed him."
"He would." Luke agreed.
"I needed to tell him something of great importance.... someone.." he realized that Luke was still starring at him with great interest. "It's nothing, I'll tell him when he comes back, just make sure you tell him to pass by my office... this can't wait."
Luke nodded, completely used to being left out of the loop.
Remus looked one last time at broken chair used as a portkey and turned to leave. Telling Ron that Hermoine had finally found him was nothing he was looking forward to... and something he's definitely want to postpone.
End of Prologue