Under The Lights Beside The River

Under the Lights Beside the River

Ron,

I'm not really sure where to begin this. Should it be when we were all eleven and just met on the train? Should it be the day that Sirius died? Should it be the day I realized my parent's didn't care? Should it be when we were all inseparable and best friends? Should it be the day I realised that I loved him, but that I couldn't? Should it be when I fought with myself to love you, that you were what I should want and need? Should it be the day you told me you loved me and I let you believe that I felt the same? Should it be the day he told me he was leaving and I felt like my soul was being ripped out?

Or should it be now, in this moment, when I'm finally facing my greatest dreams and worst fears, but in the process leaving you, my best friend?

I know that nothing I say will make you understand. This is purely selfish, simply to try and salvage some part of the greatest friendship I have ever had.

I'm sitting here now beside the river, in our spot, on my way to Waterloo, and I realised that everything that has happened has revolved around this river. It has become as important as all those passages and stairways at Hogwarts. Can you even imagine how many hours we've spent here? Every time anything happened, good or bad, for the past five years. We used to come here when we didn't know anyone and reminisce about the all-too-recent past. We came here when Sirius died. We came here when I couldn't handle my parents "loving" inquiries into my life anymore. Remember when we came here our last night of training, stupid and sentimental, even though we were all still going to be here? Of course you do. But things you didn't know about happened in this spot too.

Do you remember three summers ago when your entire family went to the coast because they thought you needed to heal the family after Bill's death? And when you came back Harry and I were at each other's throats? We couldn't be in the same room with each other without getting in a screaming match. We wouldn't explain it to you even though you repeatedly asked? I don't think we could explain it because we really didn't know ourselves. But now I do know. So does he.

The beginning of that summer started out promisingly enough. Even though you weren't with us, we were having fun (as much fun as the hunted can have), both of us working Muggle jobs in the day, and getting together at night. We eventually had this routine, where he would come by and pick me up after shift and we would walk through Covent Garden on our way to the river. It didn't matter how light-hearted the conversation began, it would turn serious. I learned more about Harry in three weeks that summer than I had ever known about him in the entire time that we had been friends. I know that sounds insane, because at Hogwarts we were all inseparable and supposedly knew everything about each other, but this was...different. He told me all about Sirius' death and I told him all about my family, subjects that before had been glossed over or we had learned about through you. It was like there was no fear about what he would think or say or do, so we could talk about anything. It was the most amazing experience; it was like seeing someone's soul. And recognizing it. So we continued like this for the better part of the summer, growing closer, but still remaining friends, nothing more. Then one night we were walking home through Covent Garden and this bloke was there, playing his guitar and singing "Wonderful Tonight." I had just been telling Harry how much I adore Eric Clapton, so he started laughing. But then when he saw me, actually enjoying the song, he held out his hand and asked me to dance. It was funny at first, but then...it wasn't so funny anymore. I had my head on his shoulder and he was singing along with the chap, under his breath in my ear. That was when life as we knew it altered. Reality shifted. I can't explain what happened because I still don't really know, but I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. It was just this...perfect moment. Not perfect in the sense that the moon was shining and the birds were singing. Just perfect in the way that there was no where else I would have rather been. And he felt that way too. We could just see it in one another. I've never felt that way, before or since. I wanted to be consumed by him. And that's it. We had found it.

But neither of us was equipped to deal with that; we had been friends our entire lives. We didn't know how to handle it. You are not supposed to fall in love with your best friend. So we just ran. As far and as fast as we could. Not literally, we calmly walked home. And never talked again. Then you came home and we were forced to be together. That's when you thought we had both lost the plot, but then it became normal and we didn't think about it anymore. We gradually began to get along better, choosing not to remember that moment. So we continued. Deceiving everyone, including you and ourselves. I simply put it out of my mind and, with my parent's excellent guidance, began to "love" you. I told myself that you were what I wanted. And I began to believe it myself. So we began our own little world together, especially after getting our flat.

We both know that Harry has been growing away for the last year, but we were too wrapped up in ourselves to really notice or care. But then last week I ran into him. Guess where? In our spot, under the lights beside the river. I caught his eye, in a hurry as I was late to meet you. But when he looked at me, I knew I wasn't going to get to you that night. I just knew that something was wrong. It was the most terrible moment of my life. He told me that you were going to propose. I realize it sounds horrible that I felt that way, but it is the truth. And he just looked at me and I knew he remembered. Everything. The way it felt together. He knew I remembered it too. He then told me he was leaving. The Order, London, us, me. And then he stood up and held out his hand and asked me to dance. And I did. He sang to me, under his breath in my ear.

It was in that moment that I knew I couldn't pretend to love you anymore, much less marry you. But I didn't say anything, to him or you. I simply let him go. Again. And this morning I realised that I couldn't go through that again. So now I'm leaving. To find him, whether he wants me to or not. I don't know whether this is for him, for me, for all of us. I know that you think I've simply lost the plot again and perhaps I have. But I have to do it; it wouldn't be fair to any of us otherwise. I do love you, Ron, but I will suffocate without him.

Hermione