Ron had been moping around the church since the previous day, when he had been sure that Ginny would hate him forever for telling Malfoy about her misfortune. Despite her assuring him that she was no longer angry, he felt as if he had betrayed her.

Adding to his distress was the fact that Harry and Hermione seemed suddenly very chummy. Hermione had been laughing and smiling much more, and Harry’s grins seemed endless. Several times he caught them whispering to each other in the dark corners of the church. What was going on? Surely Harry wouldn’t be trying to claim Hermione, especially after he had just confessed to him how he loved her. No, Harry was his friend. His very best friend. He wouldn’t do that to him.

But still yet, Ron couldn’t shake the feeling that some sort of shadow had been cast over the church since Harry and the other wizards had come back from the war. Aside from when she was with Harry, Hermione seemed distant and her eyes looked vacant, as if she were struggling with something internal, something that he couldn’t begin to fathom. It was as if everything was different while remaining the same. And eerie sort of feeling that he didn’t like.

He busied himself by making a trip out of town to spread the word about the church, and also to gather items that anyone had to spare. The idea to expand what they were doing had come from Ron himself, as he was more than happy to simply get away from it all, to escape the shroud of darkness that had been looming over his head.

He happened to stop in a Muggle bar to rest and get a drink. He had developed a taste for such things during seventh year, when he had spent the Christmas break with Hermione and her Muggle family. He ordered at the bar and looked around. It wasn’t very crowded, expectedly, and the few people there looked scraggly and weary. Someone in the corner caught his eye, a black cloak pulled down over their face. Shiny eyes gleamed at him from the darkness of the hood. “Come to me” a whisper in his head commanded.

Without noticing what he was doing, he had gotten up from the bar and was walking toward the table in the corner. He sat down across from the person, eyeing them intently. “Who are you?” he asked in a hushed voice.

The figure pulled back the cloak and Ron nearly fell out of his chair in shock. “I believe you know who I am, Mr. Weasley,” the smooth voice replied.

“Professor Trelawney?!” he nearly yelled, “But how?! You died during sixth year!”

The woman allowed a smile to break across her features. “Haven’t you ever heard of the self-fulfilling prophecy? I predicted my death as I saw it in the stars, and I had to make sure that my prediction would not be proven false.”

Ron gaped at her in disbelief. “You faked your own death just so everyone wouldn’t find out you’re a phony?”

“Hush, boy! You know not what you’re dealing with! I found out afterward that I had been wrong. It was not my death I was seeing.”

Ron looked very skeptical. He had always thought she was crazy anyway. “Okay, so who’s death did you see?”

“That shall reveal itself soon. I saw many things that day, and many more since. I even saw you here, at this place, on this day. I knew you would be here, and I knew you would be in great danger.”

Ron sighed and shook his head. “Here we go again,” he said flatly, remembering all the horrible predictions of doom and despair she had made upon himself and Harry. “Go on then. I’ll hear you out.”

“You and your friends shall be betrayed. The culprit will reveal himself. You are already seeking him, are you not?”

Ron suddenly remembered Hermione’s rapist. For once, did Trelawney know what she was talking about? “I guess so.” Ron muttered, trying not to sound as if he believed a word.

“You will find him sooner than you think, Ron Weasley. He will bring destruction and chaos to you! He will cause the end of the world!”

Ron stood up suddenly. “This is crazy! You’ve gone completely insane! I could handle you predicting my death, but not the end of time! You’ve fallen completely off your rocker this time!” He started to walk away.

“Wait!” she called, standing up herself, “You must head my warning! I waited four years to tell you this! The stars told me you would believe me now, in this place and at this time!”

Ron froze in the doorway of the bar. The few sober Muggles in the bar were staring at them, but he didn’t care. He looked over his shoulder at her, which she took as an indication to go on.

“You must believe me! There is much more at stake now than your petty life! The death I saw in the stars was not mine, but the death of the world!”

Ron shook his head. “If it hadn’t been so ridiculous, I might have believed you this time,” he said quietly, before stepping out of the bar and allowing the doors to slam shut behind him. He heard Professor Trelawney wailing something from inside, in which the words “doom”, “death”, and “the end” could be heard.

He decided to head on back to the church after that. He had only managed to talk to a few people about the church, but he hoped they would spread the word for him. Although he didn’t really believe Trelawney, he still felt a chill run down his spine every time he thought of her words, and that fueled his desire to be back with Harry, Hermione, and the others. He at least felt safe with them.

Around the edge of dark, he made it back. He planned to drop off some things at the church before going home. He could see lights from the inside, and figured that it was Hermione. He walked up the steps and put his hand on the door. He pushed it open slowly, quietly. He didn’t want to startle Hermione, since he figured she must feel a bit uneasy after the night of the attack.

But just as the door opened a crack, he caught a glimpse of Hermione’s hair, moving as if blown by the wind. But then he noticed that it was not the wind, but hands, ruffling and sweeping her hair. In the front pew, he saw her turn slightly, and in horror he realized that the hands belonged to Harry. Harry and Hermione were kissing wildly, hands all over each other and mouths moving along necks and cheeks.

Ron felt white hot anger burning in his chest. How could he? How could she? They were his friends, and they knew exactly how he felt. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they had always been like this, but why now, after he had fallen so deeply in love with her? Why did Harry choose to make his move after Ron had told him he loved her? And why were they doing this right here, in the church, where Ron was expected to return to this evening?

Professor Trelawney’s words rattled through his brain: “You will be betrayed!” Was this what she meant? He didn’t want to think about it just then. His mind was running away with him. He didn’t know what to do. He loved Hermione. He perhaps loved her more than life itself. But she was in the arms of Harry now, the man he could never quite hold up to, the man who was always ahead of him. He had always been able to dismiss the fact that Harry was above him, since Harry had treated him with friendship and respect. But now he felt so small and inadequate. How could he compare to Harry? How could he win Hermione over now?

Suddenly he realized he was shaking. His fists were clenched. Rage was growing inside him. How could Harry have done this to him? He would never do such a thing to a friend. He had more pride than that. More honor. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He couldn’t stay under control.

He flung upon the doors loudly. Hermione and Harry both jerked their heads toward him in shock. “Ron!” Hermione cried, one hand up at her face She was red-cheeked, yet her eyes were narrowed. “What are you doing?” she asked, her stern voice breaking.

“You bastard!” he yelled at Harry, lunging forward until he was right at them, and then punching Harry hard across the face, knocking him out the pew. He reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. “How could you?!” he screamed.

Harry lay motionless on the floor, looking up at him with frozen-stone eyes. For an instant, the look of them sent a pinch of fear into Ron’s heart. He had never seen Harry look like that. Ever. Harry didn’t speak.

“Pull out your wand, Harry!” Ron commanded, pointing his at him threateningly.

Hermione was shrieking for him to stop, but he ignored her. Harry refused to move. “I’m not going to duel with you, Ron.”

“Why the bloody hell not?!”

Harry closed his eyes. “Because I have no right to fight back. I deserve whatever you dish out.”

Hermione stopped trying to get Ron to put his wand down and looked at Harry in disbelief. “What are you saying?”

Harry looked at her with guilt written across his face. “Ron loves you, Hermione. He told me the very day I kissed you.”

Hermione turned to Ron. “But… but we couldn’t have a relationship like that. You said it yourself, Ron! You said we couldn’t get along!”

“I thought we couldn’t,” Ron said, lowering his wand slightly. “but I couldn’t stop loving you, Hermione! I tried, I really did, but I realized I’d made a horrible mistake!”

Hermione flushed red again. She looked very confused. “I don’t… know what to say.”

Ron turned his attention back to Harry. “Why, Harry? How could you do this to me?”

Harry’s eyes were downcast. “I’m sorry, Ron. I should’ve told you that day. I should’ve told you long ago. I’ve been in love with Hermione since fifth year!”

Ron and Hermione were both taken off guard. Hermione suddenly felt very weak in the knees. She fell into the pew. It was all too much for her to take in at once. How could all this be true? Her two best friends, the two men she cared for most in the world, were fighting over her. At one time it would’ve been a dream come true, but now she felt a thick, suffocating pressure. She knew they would eventually demand her to choose, and how could she do that? She loved them both in their own ways, but she couldn’t pick one over the other! Nor could she play with their feelings and string them along. It was so much more simple when only one of them was in love with her. Now she knew that no matter what she did, someone was going to get hurt.

Ron’s wand quivered. “Why didn’t you tell me?! We were supposed to be best friends!”

“Because I knew you loved her! How would you have felt if I’d told you?!”

“Better than I do now, walking in and catching you making out with her!”

Harry was starting to get up. “I didn’t think anything would come of it. I thought the two of you would end up getting married. I thought that if I just kept it to myself, no one would get hurt. You two could be happy. But after I came back, and I found out things didn’t work out between you, I felt like I’d been given a chance.”

“You still should’ve told me!” Ron said, his wand-hand falling to his side.

Hermione was no longer listening to them. She was too busy trying to sort this mess out in her head. It had all happened so suddenly. She just couldn’t understand what went wrong. She felt as if her mind and heart were being purposely ripped apart by someone, as if someone were behind all the things plaguing her. But what enemy could possibly control fate this way? Who could be responsible?

Her mind had stretched past its limits. Without warning, her mind went blank, and the whole room went black. She could hear their voices, still arguing, but they sounded very distant, and then, she heard nothing at all.