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Willingly into Wickedness by Irisheyes
Chapter 6 : Life After Death
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 21

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Ron stared out the window of his bedroom. He looked up at the night sky and wondered if Hermione often also gazed at the stars, and if she still thought of him. The past two years had been dreadful for him, being placed in the wizard and witch protection program and having all his friends and family think he was dead. He missed his family, even Fred and George. He wondered what they were all doing with their lives and if they thought of him at times. He was lonely, dreadfully lonely. Only the minister of magic and Harry knew he were alive, but he was unable to have contact with either one of them for it would obviously defeat the purpose of him being in hiding.

He thought back to the day they faked his death. He could hear Hermioneís screams of agony and despair from behind the room in which they had him hidden, sneaking him in by the way of the casket. He had wanted desperately to run to her, take her in his arms and tell her it was all going to be ok. He asked if she could come with him, but even he knew that would be too risky. He had to do this for her, for all of them; to keep them safe. The death eaters would surely go after her and his family had they known he was alive. He had waited every day for a message from Harry or the minister, telling him the death eaters who were after him had been caught and sent to Azkaban, but nothing came. It seemed as though it had been months since he had any contact with either of them. He knew Harry had married Ginny, and that was probably why he had not heard from him. But he missed his best friend and even more he missed Hermione.

He had written to her every day by means of a personal journal, it was this journal that kept him sane in times of dark loneliness; it was her that had always saved him. He picked that journal up again and started a new letter.


I gazed upon the stars this evening but they provided me no solace, for I was gazing alone. Without you beside me looking at the sky only seems to make me feel more empty inside. Actually, I am starting to believe my own lie and maybe I am really dead and this is my eternal hell. I hate that I have had to lie to you, to all of you but mostly you my love. If this is hell then I know I am to stay here eternally, and if this isnít hell well just knowing I may possibly never see your face again makes me die all over again inside. So initially I am in hell, for anywhere without you is a nightmare to me. I only pray you have not forgotten me because I will never be able to forget you.


He placed the journal back down on the window ledge, looked at the starry night one last time then walked over to make him self a drink, which he took to bed with him.

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