Fred's Musings: Hello readers, Fred here. My greatest hope is that one day you will read my sample writing and perhaps let me know what you think. I am trying to show a great variety to formatting that apparently nobody seems to appreciate. If you happen to have a critique, please don't be shy.

Blinded By The Light

by Fred

Oneshot

(For Now)

The fire beneath the hearth, which had blazed earlier to warm the whole room, had burned to mere ashes now, giving off no light at all. Hermione was not sleeping well that night. She kept thinking of Ron. She, for some reason, couldn't live letting him think that she had somehow betrayed him.

She thought back to the night before this, when she was in her drunken state. She could only remember bits and pieces of it. Hermione remembered that she had said some pretty stupid things to Ron, and she also was starting to recall what he had accused her of earlier this eve.

"What are you doing?" Ron had asked her the night before.

"Hiding my hands from you, I don't want you to see the scars, they're ugly." She had pressed her cheek to his shoulder while she'd sat on his lap. "You smell nice, Ron."

Hermione remembered now how he had forced her to open her fists to look at the cut marks on her hand. "You really shouldn't have attacked me. I hit you with more curses than you hit me with." Hermione ran her injured hands over her face. The attack made her extra cautious. She now kept her wand with her at all times, even as she slept.

"They aren't ugly. What do you mean, I attacked you?" he'd asked. She couldn't remember where that conversation lead to, but the next thing she remembered was Ron asking her if she had wanted to get him drunk…and then she remembered her answer.

Oh Merlin, why did the drink make her tell the truth? "To find out if you were selling Order secrets to Deatheaters. And, if you are the one trying to kill me." She had responded. Yes, he would definitely look upon that statement as an act of unfaithfulness and betrayal.

"So you decided to get me drunk in order to find out?" At the time, she had had a splitting headache and couldn't see straight, so she couldn't now remember if he had sounded harsh to her.

She'd nodded, which had made her all the more dizzy. "You're sotted aren't you? You drank at least eight goblets. I counted."

She then thought of this afternoon's conversation with him, it had been her own goblets she'd counted, minus four cups he'd said.

"Have you ever been drunk Hermione?"

"No! Who can afford to be drunk in times like these? Besides, I don't really like the taste."

"You could have fooled me."

"Yes I did fool you, I got you nice and drunk and you didn't even notice. Wasn't that clever of me?"

"Why did you want me sotted?" Ron had asked again.

"So I could ask my questions. Don't you see how easy it is? By morning you won't remember what I asked you or what you told me." She'd rubbed her head into his robes and sniffed the material.

"What if I do remember?"

"Then you will only half remember." She'd told him.

Thinking about it now, Hermione rubbed her head. Yes, she'd thought he had been the one to attack her in the woods. No, she had been wrong. He wasn't the one after her. She must have sounded like a blubbering, lying idiot to him last night. And earlier he had dismissed her without a kind word.

It was her worry over Ron that had kept Hermione awake all these hours of the night. The slightest sound kept jolting her, it was no wander she was wide-awake when someone was suddenly standing above her. But even though she was awake, she was disoriented. Hermione couldn't see well in the dark room, and it took her a while to realize what was going on. No sooner did her fingers touch her wand under her pillow, then it was yanked out from under her head to land square on her face.

For a horrible moment Hermione thought that she was being deliberately smothered. She was right. Someone who didn't want her to breathe, was smashing a pillow down on her face so she couldn't.

It was a shock that someone was actually trying to kill her again, even though in the back of her mind she had expected it. That fact had her paralyzed with fear, even though she was gripping her wand. She could barely move though because her body was trapped under thick blankets. Her hand with the wand in it, was trapped beneath the pillow where it was being pressed down on both sides of her face.

Her free hand found only an arm that would not budge when she pulled at it, because whoever it belonged to, was leaning his full weight into the pillow. Vicki pulled at the pillow next, but it wasn't moving either. Her last option was to get to her wand with her free hand, and, thank Merlin, she found the end of it at her pillow's edge. The only problem was, that her other hand still clutched it, and she couldn't release it. She tugged at the wand, wiggled it, but could do nothing. Somehow she pushed the end of her wand up and back toward the arm above it, she felt pain in her fingers and hand in trying such a hard task, but the pillow had been released from that side of her face.

Hermione dragged air into her lungs. With her other hand finally free and the wand somehow still in it, she slashed at her attacker. She struck nothing, but she was able to get in enough air before he tried smashing the pillow down again. She wasn't certain about her life, but Hermione was certain that Ron wasn't the one who was attacking her.

Fred's Musings: As always, reviews are appreciated. :)