Ron was trying to sleep while Harry had taken over the first watch. He turned around so he could see the outline of Hermione´s body on her bunk bed. It all had gone quite good until the wedding. No—until that first night at Grimmauld Place. He remembered when she was scared, and he was frightened about the fate of his family. She had sat on that sofa and looked up at him and nearly pleaded not to be left alone.

Harry had left the room when they had finally started settling their sleeping arrangements. Hermione was usually the strong one, but the last turn of events had cost her a lot. He could see her hands still trembling. Wanting to lend her a small bit of comfort, he insisted that she take the sofa cushions to sleep on. He had started to put his sleeping bag on the other side of the room when she had asked, in a very small voice, if he could stay closer. She had not looked at him, but he could see that she was deeply flushed. He did not answer but just put his sleeping bag beside hers. She fumbled about her beaded bag, finally came up with all their tooth brushes and rushed out to find Harry.

Well, what else is there to expect? She always hurries to see how wee Potter is, doesn't she?

When they all had brushed their teeth– they went into their sleeping bags. He couldn't sleep; even after having heard his father's Patronus, he was still worried. And he realized at that moment that he would probably stay worried for a long time with no way to stay in contact with his family. He had sighed.

Suddenly, he felt the brush of her hand on his arm. Without thinking, he had grabbed it. It was something solid in that spinning chaos, which had become his world some hours before. He fell asleep holding her hand. She woke him up in the morning with panic in her eyes and fear in her voice and had told him that Harry was gone.

And yet again, Harry! She wouldn't have been that panicked if HE was the one who had gone missing. Why should she? He was not the Chosen One! That one was far more precious to the world…and her heart?

Ron turned around. He could not bare the sight of Hermione any longer and stared now at the tarpaulin. After Dumbeldore´s funeral, everything had seemed to sail smoothly. She had thrown herself in his arms and sobbed on his shoulder. Despite his pain over the Headmaster´s death, he had felt happy to hold her. He remembered the feeling of stroking her back and running his hands through her curly hair. It felt so soft and warm and ….

Well, Potter was not available… He had his hands on another witch. Everybody could see how involved the Chosen One was with his sister. Involved? Yeah, this git had his hands always on her body. But for the Chosen One it was okay to think about his baby sister in that way….

He and Hermione had originally wanted to stay with Harry at his Muggle family´s house but decided they had enough to prepare for with their upcoming journey. Hermione stayed at the Burrow most of the time. Around his family she tried her hardest to pretend the usual calm, bossy know-it-all, but when they were alone, she cried a lot.

Thought she was crying about her family? Hah, she missed Potter and was sad about him having another one. Ron, you're pathetic – you would believe anything she tells you. You don't know that behind your back, she is laughing at you.

She seemed worried when he did not arrive on time after their little encounter with Voldemort while getting Harry home. And at the wedding they really had fun. They danced, and he had planned on sneaking out with her to a quieter place a little later and see what may come around. But that never happened, and at Grimmauld Place she backed away each day a bit more.

Getting her hopes high again, after Ginny was out of the game. Potter was always around her.

It got even worse when they started their nice little camping trip through Great Britain. She hardly ever touched him or let him touch her. They had gone back to step one and bickered like they had done the entire last year. He knew that his frustration was part of the problem.

And she never ever had the slightest dispute with the Boy-Who-Lived.

The more repelled he felt, the more he snapped at her, and their rows had become even harder than when he had dated Lavender. He really tried to hurt her these days.

She hurts you. She knows it and she enjoys it. She revels in your pain.

He had to get out of here soon; otherwise the whole situation would really make him insane.

Just walk out on them. What would you lose? The girl's heart? Good joke! The friendship with the Chosen One? Get out of his shadow – he only needs you to look better than he is! You would only miss all the good food and fun on this nice camping trip – well, no big loss here!

"Ron? Mate, it´s your turn to watch. Give me the locket – it always gives me the creeps when I have it on the watch!" Ron gave Harry the locket with a sad smile on his face and started towards the tent opening.

000

Ginny was walking around the lake at Hogwarts. She knew it was forbidden nowadays to walk alone on the outer parts of the castle, but she needed to be alone once in a while.

The daily school routine was scary enough, and all students were in a constant state of alarm, tiptoeing around. Detentions were not as easy going as they had been. She had seen Neville used as the target for the Slytherins to train their Cruciatus curses; just because he had a smart mouth with the Carrows. She had felt so enraged. It was a good thing that none of them were quite good at the curse yet.

They had a DA meeting that evening, and afterwards she sneaked out through one of the hidden tunnels Fred and George once showed her. At least this one was not sealed like all the others – not yet anyway. She missed her brothers. They would have made jokes about everything. When was the last time she had a good laugh? And how about a good night's sleep?

Her whole body felt like tiny needles where pricking from the inside. She knew she was overstressed, too tired, always on edge. Not of age but already burned out.

That was why she had come there. She knew that when she was back in the castle she would have to lock up her feelings. She would not allow herself to get weak in front of any other student or teacher. Never!

The bastards had pestered her about Harry at the beginning, but when she maintained that she had ditched him, they started to leave her alone. She knew they were watching her.

She would give a lot just to know where he was and if he was safe. If they had captured him, it would be all over the newspaper. That was for certain, wasn't it? But then again, maybe not. Maybe they wanted to get information first and then kill him, and when the moment was appropriate they would give the news to the press.

If they have him, they would know about Ron as well.And then her whole family would have known immediately because Death Eaters would be coming over for dinner. No; at the moment everything seemed fine. Whatever that meant these days.

She had stopped at the place where she and Harry had gone after winning the Cup, after their first kiss. She smiled sadly at the memory of both of them standing there: awkwardly, not trying to look at each other. She had started to give a report of the match when he simply took her in his arms. That was one of the best memories she had of him. It always gave her this little back flip in her stomach and warmed her heart. She had not nearly enough memories to last through a day. Their time had been brief. How could these memories last for a lifetime? She shuddered. She should not go down that path. She would see him again.

But then she might be old, or he might have finally found a Veela hidden on the road to his final battle and the Veela would make him happy for the rest of his life. A deep sigh escaped her. She should go on like she had before. Although the tension in the castle was thick, some of the boys had finally started asking her out again. She chewed on her bottom lip. She had decided against it. She had enough ex-boyfriends to worry about; she did not need another one. Dean never came back after the last holiday. They said he was in hiding. She hoped he was safe.

Dryly, she thought she could choose one of the Slytherins – they probably were the safe side nowadays. Zabini had actually tried some moves on her, but she had hexed him. Good-looking or not; that one was a git! She sighed again and went back to the castle.

000

Hermione looked out of the window onto the sea. She did not see the waves breaking on the stony coast. She had dreamed of Bellatrix again last night. She wondered if she would ever get over it. The fear was even worse than the pain. All the time during the torture, she had Neville's parents on her mind. She saw the childish smile on the grown-up woman and was horrified about losing her grip. Then the pain crashed even that memory, and all was washed away by agony. Through the blazing red pain she heard Ron calling out for her. She had wrapped all her thoughts around that voice. Somehow that saved her.

She had still been angry with him when they got caught. How could he run out on Harry…How could he run out on you? And then she had been sure she had lost him forever. He couldn't have found them without the Deluminator from Dumbledore. She had been horribly worried when he left them. The last time he Apparated alone, he had nearly splinched himself to death. And if that was not worry enough, he could have gotten caught and…

Well that didn't matter now, as he had finally came back. What was left when the worry had gone were feelings of hurt, betrayal and mortification. She had run behind him, pleading. Holy Merlin – she had been pleading!

They had gotten caught, and she had known it was her they would get rid of first. Mudbloods didn't count, after all. And he had actually tried to fist-fight those bastards. He was brave, Gryffindor through and through. At the Malfoy Manor he had actually wanted to trade himself for her. Despite that she knew it would never have worked, her heart opened wide for him. After it all, her friends had rescued her. She woke up at Shell Cottage on the sofa in the living room. He had held her hand, pale as a sheet and looking terrified.

Fleur and Bill had asked all the expected questions, and Ron tried to answer them while providing the least amount of information. Her body still ached, but Fleur's potions started to work and she soon drifted to sleep. When she woke up again, he was still there. He had taken a chair beside the sofa and had red eyes. Immediately she was alarmed and tried to sit up, but her ribs ached and he held on to her so she could rest against his arm.

"Don't move, dear! You need to rest!"

Dear? That alarmed her more. "Ron, what happened?"

He sat behind her, still having his arm around her waist, and drew her nearer so she could rest on his chest. "You have been under the Cruciatus curse for quite some time."

"No, Ron, I know exactly what happened at Malfoy's damned house—well, until I fell unconscious anyway. I mean what happened? You look like somebody died."

She felt him relax. "Oh, Merlin, I was so afraid you would end up like the Longbottoms!" He held her tight, and she thought she actually heard him sobbing.

"Ron? Are you okay?" she asked, too confused to be sensible.

"Why should I be not okay?" sarcasm dripping from every syllable, "I heard them torture you, and I thought that bitch would turn your beautiful, brilliant brain into jelly! Well, there's nothing big to worry about, other than that they said you would be dessert for that stinking rag of a werewolf…." His voice cracked.

As she could not turn around for his grip and her probably broken ribs, she was wondering what she would read in his eyes. "Ron, I am fine; it´s over." She started stroking his arm around her waist. She heard him draw in a breath.

"I am pathetic – I should be telling you that everything is okay, and instead I start crying all over you and you have to console me."

"No, Ron. You are far from pathetic. You know, you did the bravest things. I am honoured to have such a friend by my side. If you feel like losing a bit of tension by breaking down and cry over me, feel free to do so." She felt him stiffen when she said "friend" and she knew that she had made a mistake. Oh, my – after being tortured she was allowed to make them, wasn't she?

She had nightmares. The first night at Shell Cottage, she stood up and tiptoed outside after her nightmare. She could not get to sleep again. Right in front of her door, she bumped into Ron. He said he heard her screams and wanted to see if she was okay. They sneaked into the kitchen and got themselves hot chocolate. It felt good to be with him.

He started to touch her again, like after Dumbledore's funeral. She liked that. They had gone through a lot, and she sometimes longed for someone to take care of her and her life and her decisions – like her parents would have done. When he passed her and just brushed her slightly on purpose or when he sat beside her and she felt his leg touching hers, she felt more confident in her doings. At least someone really cared for her. She liked it when she felt his gaze on her. She loved when his eyes brightened when he looked up to see her, but she knew there was no way of having a relationship with him during their hunt.

She feared the end because it could mean death for all of them. They all considered Harry as the most vulnerable, but secretly she was convinced that she and Ron were far more in danger. She was not worth a Sickle when crossing a Death Eater, being a Muggle-born, and Ron was the one standing in front of her or Harry to rescue them. For a long time, she had nightmares of Ron being beaten at the giant chess board.

Harry always seemed to have a kind of angel watching him, ensuring that he came to no harm. She hoped they all had one and that they would come out of this healthy and sane and with the chance to build up a normal life.

She longed so much for that silver lining…

000

Snape was lost in her eyes. She smiled at him, eyes sparkling with joy. He felt like a blow had hit him in his guts. He had gone through Sirius´ old room on the search for information, which he knew he would not be able to find. He told the Dark Lord it would be useless, but he had sent him anyway. He ended up in Sirius´ room. He was curious, and deep in his heart, he had hoped to find something of her. When he finally had flipped through a motorcycle manual a letter had fallen out; by falling, it had opened and the photo had settled itself bottom up on the floor.

And there he saw her beautiful green eyes and felt the same as twenty years before. He had seen her on the Muggle playground, and he saw her performing magic. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and she could do magic! He knew she was a Mudblood – it could not be otherwise as his family was the only magical one in the whole area. It all started so good. She really liked him—until that Potter prat appeared. And still he was not sure if he had made a move, things wouldn't have been different anyway.

He took the photo from the floor and saw now the little black-haired baby boy zooming in and out of the picture on a broom. Harry! He had loathed him nearly immediately. He was so like his father. Only his eyes…. He took the envelope from the floor as well and took the letter. It was her handwriting. She had written him letters in the holidays and notes during the lessons. He had collected and cared for them dearly even after their friendship went down.

He had called her a Mudblood – he had felt helpless and ashamed. She had wanted to help, but she had made everything only worse as he realised that she also had witnessed one of the most embarrassing moments in his life. He had asked her for forgiveness, and she forgave him… somehow. Forgave him, but ended their friendship as he was too much of a Slytherin and was a follower of the Dark Lord already. He still kept the letters until he read the wedding announcement in the Daily Prophet.

That day, he burned everything that would ever remind him of her: letters, notes, pictures. He wanted this love to end. He wanted it to stop hurting him. He thought it would have been easier if she hadn't chosen Potter. Any other would have been bearable…. That was all moot now as the past could not to be changed anyway. He scanned the letter; there was no real information. His eyes lingered on the last words of the letter.

Lots of Love, Lily.

It was all so long ago, but the wound never healed. He felt tears rising. So long ago…..lost years without her… betrayed by the Dark Lord… His hate still burned deep. She was worth only one flick of the wand of that psychopathic Half-blood. He could have saved her, but the lives of others did not mean anything for that… creature. Tears were now dripping from his nose. He would get his revenge, and if that meant that he would get Harry to the final battle by carrying him to it, he would. He would see the downfall of that demon.

000

Draco was staring out of the window in their garden and saw Greyback down there. He hated that… thing. After he learned about Lupin, he thought that the shabby teacher was a freak of nature. Now he knew that his old Professor was a very decent man compared to that beast. He shuddered, remembering Greyback´s look at Granger.

Some things had changed for sure. His life turned out to be a terrible mess. His father had been sentenced to Azkaban, and then everything went down hill. He knew the task the Dark Lord had given him was only another penalty for his dad. Everybody expected him to fail. He had failed. He never could have killed Dumbledore.

After all he had seen since then, he was still not sure he could murder. He had seen Bellatrix torture Granger. His aunt was a freaking nutter. Of course he knew she tortured Longbottom's parents into insanity, but he thought they had been as worthless as their son. Not pretty smart from the beginning, like Granger.

The Dark Lord himself had him under the Cruciatus. What an honour! He shuddered again. After all he had seen, he was surprised it had not turned him into a jabbering madman.

And then they brought in Potter, the Weasel and Miss-Know-It-All together with the other Gryffindor Mudblood and that dirty Goblin. He could not bring himself to tell his parents that they were the real ones. After all, they had been looking different. Pretty thin and shabby. Their lives had obviously not been great fun lately.

Granger was already in panic when they entered as Greyback kept an eye on her. She was kind of pretty, after all. He saw Greyback licking his lips in anticipation on what would come and saw him touching her with his dirty hands. It turned his stomach. He could see the anger and pain in the Weasel's eyes. Yeah, he had always protected her. A thin grin slipped over his face – yeah, he had spit snails for his nobility once. Nevertheless, it surprised Draco to hear him trying to trade himself for his playfellow. Probably the Weasel did not know what to expect. They had heard him shouting while Granger was screaming in pain. Draco had tried to tune out the noise as he turned his back on the scene, but he found himself not able to do so. Why the hell did they have to bring them to his house?

The Dark Lord had showed them his power after the escape of Potter and his brood. The Dark Lord knew how far he could go without killing them. He knew exactly the point when the other person longed to die just to have the pain finished. He was an expert.

He had told him that if he made another mistake, his parents would pay the price and he would have him watching it. This would not happen. He would not make another mistake. He would do whatever was asked of him. If he had to kill, he would. His mum was not to die like that. He leaned his head against the cold window and felt tears running down his cheeks. He would do whatever it was…

A hot pain darted through is arm. The master was calling! Another deadly round of hide and seek with an unlucky soul. Somebody whit the wrong parents and a very bad destiny today was waiting for him. With a plop he Disapparated.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR - thanks for letting us play with them.