He watched as her face fell lower. Her eyes had been closed for nearly twenty minutes, each second her face drooped closer to the book laid out on the table before her until finally she rested her cheek upon the pages. A small smile crossed his face and his emerald eyes rolled in amusement. "Mione," he whispered quietly. A small snuffling noise was his only response. His grin widened as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to her room.

He lay her on her bed, removed her shoes then pulled her blanket up over her. "Night," he whispered, brushing a kiss over her cheek and leaving her alone.

"Harry!" The sharp sound of his friends voice startled him as he pulled her door closed.

"Shh... what is it Ron?" He turned to face the tall red head.

"Why are you coming out of her room this late?" He ignored the accusing tone and chuckled slightly.

"She fell asleep in the Library again. I was putting her to bed." Ron nodded, though Harry suspected he didn't believe him. Ever since Hermione had turned him down Ron had been convinced there was something going on between the two of them. With a quick smile at his friend, Harry retreated to his own room, setting his silencing spell so his nightmares didn't disturb his roommates.

Ron felt fury racing through his blood as he watched his best mate walk away with a stupid smile on his face. It wasn't enough that he was Harry bloody Potter, who always got everything, he had to go and take Hermione as well. It wasn't the first time he'd resented Harry, in fact it wasn't even the tenth. He'd resented his best friend on more occasions than he could count, but knew damn well that no matter how much Harry pissed him off, there was no way Ron could end the friendship.

Not because Harry wouldn't let him, Harry was too passive to truly fight for anything personal. He only fought when others told him to, never of his own volition. No, Harry wasn't the one keeping him in the this unhealthy friendship, nor was it Hermione, though she played a large part in it. No, what truly kept him here was everyone else. If he walked away from Harry, he was quite sure he'd be disowned and Harry given his place in the family.

Yes, his family would be furious, but the general public would annihilate him. He would never be able to show his face in wizarding Britain again. The press would hound him, he'd probably receive daily howlers as well. His face darkened with each thought that passed through his head. No, he couldn't walk away from Harry, no matter how much he wanted to. But he could take back what should have rightfully been his anyway.

He smirked as he took a step closer to Hermione's room. His eyes darted to Harry's closed door and he could feel his lips twisting in a Malfoyish smirk. One, step, two steps... his hand was on the doorknob. He stepped in, pulling the door closed behind him and locking it with a spell. Another flick of his wrist and muttered incantation raised a silencing spell on the room.

He stepped closer to the girl sleeping before him. Sure, she was bossy and bookish and wholly annoying at times, but when she was like this he remembered why he wanted her. Her ting top or whatever it was called had ridden up, exposing her flat stomach, her breasts were heavenly, just the right size to fill his hands, her shorts exposed her long legs and graceful ankles. He licked his lips as he watched her chest rise and fall with each breath.

He nearly fell over when she moaned and said, "Mmm that's good..." it fit so neatly with his own internal fantasy that he couldn't stop himself from taking a step closer, then another...

"Janie love, try this one," her mother handed her another bite of flavored ice and she felt a small moan escape her at the taste. "Mmm, that's good," she leaned over to read the label and felt something tickle her neck. She brushed it off, but the tickling persisted in a most irritating manner.

The comfortable atmosphere in Italy suddenly became stifling as she felt something weighing down on her. She instinctively reached for her wand, and felt her arms being pulled over her head. "No!" she screamed internally. "It's over! This isn't supposed to happen, not now, not when we've finally ended it!" The colors over Venice bled together into a dark cloud and she screamed again. "Harry! Help me Harry!"

"He can't hear you. You're such a lying fucking cunt, the both of you," the voice was familiar and she could only assume the Death Eater had used polyjuice potion to get close enough to hurt her.

She tossed her head back and forth, "no, no no no no...."

"Oh shut up. That's your biggest problem, you never know when to shut..." he thrust into her and she screamed again, "the fuck," another thrust, "UP!" Tears dripped down her face as he violated her virgin body in a degrading and painful way, insulting her with every thrust.

"No, no..." she opened her eyes to find Ron glaring down at her while he thrust painfully into her. "No!" She stared at him in horror as her body trembled beneath the onslaught. It couldn't be... Ron wouldn't... "Ron..." she whimpered and he smirked down at her. His face twisted as he began to thrust harder until finally she felt something hot and wet dripping from a place that had never been used in that manner.

"Let's see how much he wants you now." He smirked as he jumped off of her, pulling his slacks back up and strutting out of her room without a backward glance.

She lay on her bed in shock for several moments before rising and locking her door. Tears wracked her as she packed her belongings swiftly, using a cleansing charm to remove the 'essence of Ron' and hastily departed Grimmauld Place.

Once she was far from Grimmauld and him, she found herself at a loss. Her parents were in Australia, with no memory of her and there old house would be the first place someone would look for her. She had very few friends, no family and little money on hand.

She looked around, realizing she had no idea where she was. Apparating blindly was never a good idea, she was lucky she hadn't splinched herself. Realizing that if she hadn't a clue where she was then no one else would either, she allowed herself a moment to relax.

She fell to the sand, staring out at the waves gently lapping the shore and dissolved into tears. Why would Ron do that? It was all she could think about, no matter how hard she tried to push it from her mind. Her body refused to let her forget, aching in places that had never ached before. She completely lost herself in dispare, sobs wracking her frail body as the memory of his hate filled eyes filled her mind.

"This is a private beach, you shouldn't..." she looked up at the voice and cursed the gods. "Granger? What the hell are you doing here?"