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Love's Vengeance by AHarryTale
Chapter 4 : Remember
 
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 4


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I opened my eyes to see Ginny, my wife, glaring at me. Hope gleaming in her eyes; I loved the way they sparkled so freely, gently, beautifully.

Two male paramedics were sat next to my stationary body, sprawled out across the time-worn wooden flooring. I felt cold, but didn't feel a draft, my whole body began quivering. It was an odd sensation. I glanced over to the doorway to see that there was no longer a door stood within it. I blinked rapidly, fast, as thoughts tickled and occupied my cramped mind.


"Harry you're awake!" Ginny exclaimed. I jumped, a little startled at first. But then I managed to focus my eyes, I focused them on Ginny, on her beautiful irises. I fixed my gaze and our souls intertwined, happily and merrily dancing with each other. I felt a lump in my throat, which I could not swallow. Guilt. I pattered it down my neck and cleared my throat as Ginny's eyes questioned my actions and motions. She lay her hand on my shoulder and raised her eyebrows, frowning doubtfully.


"What's wrong with you? Are you okay?" Ginny asked me, the words were painful, ringing through my ears. To hear anything at all was painful and made me feel dreadfully uneasy. I wanted silence and hushed quietness. Also, I wasn't okay. I wasn't okay with betraying my wife, who I still cared for so dearly. She had always been there for me whenever I needed someone, she would be the first in line. I should have been a lot more grateful. But I loved Hermione too, why couldn't I make up my mind? Why did things have to turn out this way, so confusing?


"You're cold." she stated, her voice shaking, her heart beating out of her chest. I pressed my lips together, gritting my teeth with disappear. She backed away against the wall, acknowledging my uncomfort. The paramedics exited through the doorway, trampling over the wooden door, it's golden hinges crooked and broken. I examined the tall men as they left our humble home. I tried to force a smile on my lifeless, dull, expressionless face. It was useless. I tried to wave goodbye, or say a little 'thank you' but it wouldn't come out. I choked on my simple words. I croaked.


Ron staggered down the winding staircase, starring at me with dangerous, spiteful eyes, full of hatred and disgust. I reacted with no emotion, my eyes were large, my face didn't twitch in the slightest way, I didn't flinch. I just looked at him warily and innocently.


Ron slumped on the couch, lazily. He picked up the television remote and pressed the buttons aggressively, his eyes sharpening. When he landed on the Quidditch channel he threw the remote on the couch, like a child throwing a tantrum. We now had a television in our house, we sometimes liked to live a little like muggles. I guess growing up, being raised by muggles may have had a little something to do with the strange and bizarre interest. Plus, we could watch Quidditch in the comfort of our own home now! I knew one person that was always very fascinated by muggle items, Ron and Ginny's father, Arthur. I'm pretty relieved to have a father-in-law like him, we have a lot in common and we get along swimmingly. I guess Ginny must have learnt a lot about muggle things from her father. She liked the television, but she prefered old fashioned wizarding ways, she would constantly nag me about my muggle obsessions.


I strained my arms, only attempting to lift them from my sides. As soon as Ginny heard my strained voice she rushed to assist me. I gradually began to lift my weight and Ginny helped haul my heavy weight onto the couch, next to Ron.


I kept my eyes glued to the television, praying not to make any eye contact with the fiery red head sat next to me. Ginny made her way to the kitchen to fetch us some refreshments. When she returned she sat between me and Ron, I breathed a barely noticeable sigh of relief. However, Ginny noticed and looked at me, with eyes as sharp as sharpened daggers, blood thirsty daggers... I think she may of been wondering why me and Harry were being so uncivil. Wait, why were we acting in this childish manner? Did he know about the affair? Well I couldn't just ask him, because he was sure to know then! I needed to talk to Hermione, I needed to ask her what had happened, and why Ron was acting so very peculiar...


Ginny left her seat and shot off, up the stairs, she began calling Hermione, asking her to come down the stairs. Hermione wailed in response, the few words she spoke being slurred. Hermione sounded shattered, I desperately wanted to sprint up the stairs and comfort her. I couldn't bear to hear her cry, I hated it when she cried. Then I wondered, why was she crying?


First there was Ron, looking at me shadily, then Hermione sobbing her eyes out. What was going on?!


I couldn't get up, I couldn't see Hermione, it was killing me. Damn these flimsy limbs. I just wanted to see how she was, make sure she was okay, at least. It would have been perfect if only, she'd lay her head on my chest, as I put her hair in messy braids. I'd give her advice and assure her that everything will turn out fine, make her believe she is the princess in my fairytale. Cheer her up and make her feel joyful and hopeful. I'd stair into her heavenly eyes, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this amazing woman, I couldn't stop thinking or caring about her! But what about my wife? What about Ginny? Why did I feel so much love and compassion towards her, I thought I had moved on. What was happening to me and how could I stop it? I asked myself this a million times, no reply...


Ginny looked back at me, emotionless and pale, ghostly. Ron was mesmerized by the television and didn't seem to be taking much notice of the current events. Ginny walked into the kitchen once more, I heard her sulk a little, but she seemed to be controlling herself rather well. She wiped her tears and blew her nose while walking back into the living room. I didn't ask what had happened or whether her and Hermione were okay, I didn't want to set her off again. I just let myself gaze at her miserably. She caught me staring and gestured her hand, shaking me off.


I turned back to face the television and realised that it was a very important game, one that I'd been looking forward to for a while if I remember correctly. Although, my memory had gotten a bit lost, when I passed out I must of hit my head because I felt dizzy when I awoke. I felt very off balanced and couldn't remember anything recent. Not to mention feeling as though I had been paralyzed from head to toe, not being able to move a single stiffened muscle.


Eventually Hermione came downstairs, when I heard her dainty footing, I spun my head around in a flash. She looked pained and upset, this put me on edge. She saw my worried expression, I wasn't sure what I'd done, but I felt so guilty. She acknowledged my feelings, she half smiled at me, forgivingly. She left the room and my brain was went into overload. I wondered what had happened, why was she upset and why did I feel so guilty? I guess I just felt guilty for not being able to help her, not being able to comfort her and ask her what the problem was. It was hard, being such a secret. We couldn't express our love for each other very often, we had to act like casual friends, but deep down we cared about each other more than anyone else. In situations like these it was especially hard.


Hermione walked outside. I turned to Ron, who still seemed to be hypnotized by the light emitting box. I closed my eyes for a moment, waiting for the right moment to speak, looking for the right words to say, looking for the courage and strength to speak them.


"Ron, what happened?" I asked plainly. It wasn't much, but it was a start. It was immensely difficult to speak, or breathe for that matter. I hadn't asked Ron much, my query was pretty vague, but maybe I could get the gist of the situation, if only he's answer me.


Ron continued to watch Quidditch, not paying any attention to me whatsoever. Damn, my throat was in enough pain as it was, I would have preferred not to have wasted my breath on him. I just slouched back in my seat and stared at the television. I think I eventually fell asleep, when I woke up Ron wasn't next to me. I looked around the room, finding no signs of him or Ginny.


I saw Hermione through the hollow doorway, she was looking up towards the sky, daydreaming, in a trance. I had to see her, I had to talk to her. I managed to lift my weight from the couch, leaving a slight indent, in the place I had been sitting in. I clumsily lifted my foot and placed it a step forward, then doing the same with the other. I managed to limp and stumble my way to the doorway where Hermione was stood. She closed her eyes as she heard me approaching. The very second her eyelids met, tears streamed down her beautiful, elegant face, so gracefully. I reached out my hand to brush away her tears, she felt the warmth of my hand and knocked it back. I stood there in bedazzlement.


"What happened? What's wrong?" I managed to croak.


"Why don't you tell me?" Hermione asked, opening her gorgeous eyes. She eyed me coldly, it most certainly wasn't a rhetorical question. But I didn't have the answer, what did happen? I continued to look at her blankly for a while. A game of stares.


"I don't know..." I coughed, wheezing. Her eyes narrowed.


"Hugo..." she started. My eyes widened. What had happened to Hugo? Is this why she had been crying? Something terrible must of happened. Oh no, why couldn't I remember anything. I felt a weird sensation in my gut.


"Hugo's dead." It couldn't be. Hermione's words broke my vocal cords and tore through my heartstrings. How had he died? Where had he died? When had he died? Did someone kill him?


"I know you probably have a million questions, but I don't have the answers either. Oh, and don't worry, I don't blame you." she said with a half smile. Wait, she doesn't blame me? What for?


"Blame me for what?"


"Hugo's death. He hasn't said anything, but I can sense that Ron thinks it was you, that killed him..." Hermione answered, half-heartedly. I ran my fingers through her hair and shook my head. I couldn't remember anything, but I would never do such a thing, would I?


Hermione looked reassured by my comforting gestures, she relaxed a little and rested her head on my shoulder.


"I know you aren't like that. I know you would never do such a thing." Hermione sniffled.


Ron came outside, he was so quiet, we didn't even hear him coming. We didn't flinch or move, we thought it would be best to act as though we weren't hiding anything. Ron had seen us hug plenty of times. Hermione and I were friends, I've had moments like this with all of my close friends, what's different here? What was there to raise his suspicions?


Hermione looked to the floor, as if asking it for some Felix felicis. I looked at Ron blankly. Hermione was nervous, so was I, but I didn't let it show. Ron looked at Hermione with burning eyes, he looked at me suspiciously before looking up into the night sky, searching for constellations. Hermione lifted her head from my shoulder, she took hold of my arm firmly and looked up into my eyes for guidance and reassurance. Ron set his eyes on Hermione, she instantly pulled her eyes away from mine. She looked innocently at the stone cobbles. I nudged her, pointing my eyes towards the doorway, she nodded. She walked into the house, leaving me and Ron to stand alone.


"Did she tell you?" Ron asked me vaguely.


"Tell me what?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.


"About Hugo..."


"Yeah..." I bit my lip as I held my salty tears back. We stood in silence for a while.


"Did she say anything about me?" Ron questioned, his face tensing up.


"No, why? Did s-something happen?" I stuttered, I swallowed. I felt a shiver dancing up my spine, I began to sweat. What happened? Was it all my fault? I had so many questions.


"I'm not quite sure... But I think Hermione might be pregnant. Last night Lavender was saying goodbye to me, stood in the doorway, that's all that happened. Hermione flipped on me as you can expect. I'd actually been wondering that night, she's been feeling so sick lately, but hadn't been around much, so I had the feeling she was pregnant. I accused her of being pregnant with another man's baby. She didn't reply, she didn't deny it, she just broke down in a puddle of tears. I went crazy, demolished the house and left. I don't know what to do, with Hugo's... Death and everything. Harry, you're my best friend, what should I do?" Ron explained, out of breath by the end of his story. He looked up at me, pleading for advice.


"You're better off without her." I advised.


"You know what? You're right. I'm gonna tell her straight. I'm gonna tell her, that I'm taking the kids and I'm taking the flat." Ron stated confidently. He stormed into the house, his eyes determined.


"Hermione, I'm taking the flat and the kids are living with me, and there's nothing you can do about it!" Ron roared, Hermione shielded her face from the droplets of saliva spraying from Ron's angry mouth.


"Y-you can't d-do that!" Hermione stuttered nervously. She was enraged, yet scared of what was coming. Ron held his face less than an inch away from Hermione's face. He breathed heavily and let out a little snigger. He backed away and laughed darkly.


"I can do whatever I want." Ron cackled.


"What am I supposed to have done? Do you want me to take a lie detector test, huh?" Hermione teased.


"Fine. We'll go on the Rita Skeeter show then, hey?" Ron suggested.


"Fine" Hermione agreed quickly. The room fell silent. Oh dear, what had she done? The Rita Skeeter show was one of the most popular programs for witches and wizards. It was like the muggle's television show, Jeremy Kyle, but for witches and wizards. If Ron was right, Hermione would be publicly humiliated.


Hermione left in a fury. Ron stayed and told Ginny what had happened. I took to the stairs, I retreated to my bedroom. I lay on my bed; I tried to relax, but I couldn't stop thinking. I thought about the whirlwind day I'd had and and fell asleep in my thoughts. Maybe my dreams would be better, maybe they would make sense, maybe things would be easier. But my life wasn't a dream, my dreams were just somewhere I could retreat to. If only life was like a dream.



A/N: I do not own the television show "Jeremy Kyle" no copyright intended. Thanks for the amazing reviews so far, I love to hear what you think! Please favourite and review if you like this chapter! Thank you. :)


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