Here it is! Harry Potter and the Shattered Bond, Enjoy!

1.

Hours seemed to have passed till Ron finished crying, feeling like a fool and hating himself for it. Hermione was just a girl and he could surely find someone else, no problem. It was just so hard for him to watch the two of them as they thrived in their own world. Harry-bloody-Potter the Chosen One and the girl of his dreams, oh if the Death Eater's knew about this. Ron shuddered at the thought of it; what Lord Voldemort would do if he were to hear of this. Who would pay the price of it, Harry? No, he would be killed and that was that, but Hermione…she would suffer. They would make her watch him die and then kill her.

The teenager shuddered to think of the torment awaiting them should they be caught. He shook his head and rubbed his cerulean eyes. He wished he could take those words to them back all that time ago. Then the child in Hermione's womb might have been his as it should have been. Gnashing his teeth together he groaned and looked outside the tent where in the distance he noticed a heart aching glance of the brown-haired girl not so far away. She was laughing at something, the sound of it clear as a bell whispering over the wind and teasing his ears.

So soft, so lovely and so painful to him that the redhead closed his eyes against the pain that made him want to scream. She was climbing out of the lake by the tent, her top sticking to her and her face shiny with the glistening water. Harry was not far away and the sight of the bump growing shapely in her stomach made him wince and blink back tears. He hated those tears, wished there were some sort of spell to make one unable to cry.

Ron shook his head. He emerged from the tent to see Harry staring down at a picture of his mother and father. The beauty was holding him as a baby and the man was holding her. The redhead felt a pang of guilt over his words months ago and rubbed his eyes wearily. Harry already knew that his parents were dead and that had been cruel. What was worse is he did not even Ron touched his shoulder and offered a lopsided grin; Harry smiled back letting out a grunt of 'ugh' when his love hugged him around the waist. He let out a birth-tenor laugh and kissed her face, Ron winced.

They kissed deeply and Ron had to turn away from them. He hated it when they kissed or touched one another. He went back into the tent, closed the flap and cried like a child. Ron thought of nothing but her the night after night. The smell of her, the feels off her skin so soft beneath his hands at his brother's wedding. It hurt him so deeply that he lay awake and sighed as he thought he heard Harry's voice singing some kind of proposal. He heard the sounds of them off nearby in the forest as they made love to one another in a place which he thought was secret. It mattered not where they went for Ron had seen what they did in one another's arms. Ron had seen romantic movies with Lavender and he was sure it was a picture from one of those.

Harry's arms bear from the shoulders down where he would press her to him, her hands splayed passionately beneath his shirt brushing over his lightly muscled torso. His pale form glistiening in the dull silver light of the moon as his mouth caressed her and she tossed back her head. The image of Hermione closing her eyes for him, gripping him, it was too much for Ron. Too much, he wanted it to stop but was powerless to keep his imagination from painting the gruesome picture. Ron was powerless as the form of his best mate naked above the girl they both loved. His body tight as he urged her forward to give her pleasures the sound of her moaning rising as they came together with each other. The image of him with her in his arms haunted him nightly in his darkest dreams.

I have only myself to blame.

Five words that taunted him broke him into the very deepness of his already cracking heart. True though they were they hurt him every time he thought of them. Ron shook his head and sighed closing his eyes tried to go back to sleep. Feeling hatred for Harry Potter to the core of his being and wishing not for the first time that he could be as great as him and crying for a loss no time would heal. He hated Harry Potter for having the woman he loved, but deep down in his soul it was jealousy. He was, as always jealous of the boy who lived.