Deadwood

{Handcuffed in the present tense

Variations on your violence

Mind games and pretty girls

A cracked song in the universe}

Hermione Granger Weasley slid her frozen feet across the wood of the cluttered floor. After the wedding they had moved in to an upstairs room, just for a while before getting their bearings. But it had become harder and harder just to bear this place, this prison of his making and her entrapment, than any other. Snow collected on the windowsill and she wished she could do the same; just fall until caught by a stronger being, as though nothing had happened.

{I think it's time that I showed you what I'm made of

I'm afraid there is so much to be afraid of

I kill the fire so I don't get burned

Kill the fire and you won't get burned}

The Burrow was a lot quieter without the happy, freckled faces that had played through her mind ever since she could remember. Ever since she could remember life. Almost too happy. The silence cut into this string of consciousness; her feet had stopped moving and she lowered herself to the bed.

{Deadwood, if you care to listen

It's the same but there's something missing

It wears me out}

Why hadn't he met me at the train station? So many questions will be left unanswered, and she wanted to start all over, let the icy waters of the snow ebb over the memories and erase the confusion that had plagued her existence since his arrival. Him. So mysterious and relentless he was in her memory, and she thought he would live forever in her future as well.

{Stripped bare I'm the same old savage

How in His name did we ever manage?

It's not enough}

He was the reason this was so difficult. Hermione's hands flooded with rage and her heart with angst as she recalled the look on Ron’s face when she had spilled the secret. He had flung her body away when she tried to comfort him, and she realized that that was the last time she would ever offer herself again. What happened to us? Ever since the silver wedding band had caressed her finger, things had been more rival than ever. She wanted to retreat back to their days of foolish laughter and sunlit kisses, living in a dream world that just had to end.

{Look me in the eye

I'm about to dive

Can you live your life without me?}

The dagger was still missing from his bureau, never to be recovered. The wound was too deep, and he was buried with the badge of weaponry still embedded in his flesh. She had let out a scream with the sight of her lover's eyes: bright blue to deep red in a matter of seconds, as said to be the curse, and all too permanent it was.

{Loud and clear but you still don't get it

I call you up and then I'll regret it

It gets me down

You want the truth but you look right through it

Deadwood but you hold on to it

It's such a shame}

The poison was working quickly now, and the speed surprised her. Oh Harry what have I done? She still talked to him, if now only in her head. His blood had dried under her fingernails as she had held the hollow, soul-ridden corpse of Ron's doing.

The blood had been rinsed away, but what of the blood running through her own young, impregnated veins? Surely it was still as warm as it had ever been.

{Symptomatic of what we've become

I used to think you were the only one

Look me in the eye

I'm about to dive

Can you live your life without me?}

Her head hit the pillow with an inept exuberance. A different ending would have been fairy-tale, but her life didn't seem much like reality to her anymore. Could it have been different? She knew the answer even before she asked the question. With the last burst of strength her body would allow, she lifted a hand onto her rounding, tell-tale stomach. Her eyelids fluttered, and a light that once burned brightly was now flickering for the last time. It's too late now, Ron. Does your revenge suit you well?