A/N: I hope you guys like this chapter as well! I've already planned out the whole story (okay not the whole thing, but close enough). It's safe to say that chapter 3 is in the works, and it'll be posted sooner than you think! Again, enjoy! :)

Chapter 2 ~ Unwanted Obstacles

Conscious.

The youngest son of the Weasleys was starting to awake from his deep slumber. He felt himself starting to get his senses back in a second. He could feel the presence of his parents—literally. He could hear everything such as his parents' breathing and heartbeat. He could even smell the food from the Great Hall! What the hell was up with him?

"Oh, Arthur!" came the ringing voice of Molly Weasley, Ron's mother. "Look our baby boy. Who would do such a dreadful thing?"

Mum? Ron awoke from his conscious. He tried opening his eyes with no success at all.

"Pumpkin," sighed his father. "I've been asking myself that question for numerous of times ever since we got the owl from Minerva."

From a distance, they heard the heavy oak wood doors opening and closing. An elder with a beard that resembled of a white horse's mane. His crescent moon eyeglasses and his cerulean blue eyes sparkled with remorse. He stood alongside with Ron's parents.

"Molly, Arthur," he looked up to the plump mother and the lanky father with his askew eyeglasses. "I know you have many questions—I know that I may not ever be forgiven, but I am here to give my sincerest of apologies."

Molly looked at him, trying to keep to herself calm, "W-who did this to our Ronnie?"

Ron felt himself cringe a bit at his nickname, but his ears perked up with interest to know more about what had happened last night.

"Payne Lots was the name if I recall from the aurors who came in," Dumbledore said to them. "Lots had just finished his time in Azkaban. You'd think he'd learn his lesson from going through such an experience, but I digress. He fought alongside the Death Eaters with the most infamous werewolf of them all, Fenrir Greyback. When they saw how they were losing in the war, he cowarded out."

Arthur spoke up, "Yes, I do remember Lots, but I'm concerned at how he got into Hogwarts grounds."

"I'm glad you asked that, Mr. Weasley," the professor nodded his head in approval. "We are trying to figure out who might've been behind this."

Ron couldn't help himself, so he chimed in, "You-Know-Who?"

The three turned their eyes and heads towards the youngest son of the Weasleys. The first thing he felt was his mother's familiar, warm embrace. She cried happily as her husband come over to hug his son as well. Dumbledore stood upon them with a sad smile. He still felt miserable that he couldn't save the poor boy. The sunrise shined towards the family, spoiling them with rejoice.

"Oh, my baby boy!" Molly cried out as she laughed. "Goodness, you almost gave us a heart attack!"

"Sorry, mum," Ron showed off his famous lopsided grin. "I couldn't help but to join in this interesting conversation."

She nodded, "Of course, you'd want to know who did this to you."

Dumbledore looked up at the ticking clock that was up above them. He turned to the relived family, clearing his throat, "I must be on my way. Duty calls."

As the elder was halfway towards the Hospital Wing, he turned to face Ron. His eyes still on the professor.

"My deepest of sincerities, Ronald," Dumbledore apologized once again, his voice echoing towards the teen.

Ron nodded his head in appreciation. He then turned back to his family as they started to talk animatedly. As Madam Pomfrey went to come in to take Ron's body temperature, Ron couldn't help but to hear the busy halls even though he was behind the heavy oak wood doors of the Hospital Wing. He could hear people gossiping, talking about classwork, laughing, even crying.

Ron cleared his throat, "Mum? Dad?"

"Yes, dear?" his mother inquired.

"I'm a werewolf now, right?" he gulped.

His mother gave him a small smile, "I'm afraid so."

Ron's crystal blue eyes traveled down to his freckled arms. He started to contemplate at how his life was going to change forever. He'd known that werewolves were feared by most of the wizarding community. He remembered how they were always portrayed to be blood thirsty beast that infected many. Just that thought alone made him shiver.

"Hermione… Harry…" Ron whispered out. "Ginny… Fred… George… Bill… Charlie… Percy…"

"What about them?" his father asked.

Ron looked up at him to meet his father's eyes, "D-do they know?"

"Nope. It's just us and the rest of the staff in Hogwarts," his father reassured him. "We haven't really came up when we should tell the rest."

"If you do plan on telling them, promise me you won't tell Percy," Ron spat his name with such venom.

His mother sighed, "That's fine with us, but you need to tell him soon. Keeping secrets can hurt."

Ron nodded, "I'll think about it, Mum."

She smiled, "Your father and I will be off now. Take care of yourself, Ronnie. Don't get into trouble!"

"I won't," Ron grinned, flushed a bit.

After goodbye kisses from his parents, they thanked Madam Pomfrey and went off. He fell back to his bed, sighing loudly. As soon as they left, Madam Pomfrey came over him to present im a vial of a potion. Within the potion, it was fogged with blue smoke. She placed the glass of water near his table and turned back to him.

"We here in Hogwarts ensure that each student is able to receive the education they need in a safe environment," she stated confidently. "It is your responsible and the staff's responsibility to keep you under control. Every week before the full moon, you must report here for those das in order to take the potion. A goblet full of it to be exact."

"Wolfsbane, right?" Ron asked, earning himself a nod of approval. "It lessens the symptoms of lycanthropy and the risk of me going berserk once I transform."

Before they could continue their exchange, the heavy oak wood doors were creaked open to reveal something that caught Ron completely off guard. His eyes and ears perked to the sound of frantic footsteps approaching to his bed. His crystal orbs never left the chocolate ones he was greeted by. Her eyes watering with unshed tears as her expression was brooding.

"Ron!" she cried with relief when she finally reached to her destination.

She took a sit near him, her eyes never leaving his. The more he was in her presence, the bigger his lopsided grin grew. Her eyes twinkling was what made his heart ache. Those delectable eyes he'd love since he'd ever laid his eyes on. With that and her small smile, it made Ron flush, making him look down. It was peaceful strange enough. Just him and her, silence drifting upon them.

As he looked at her once again, he felt his guts squirming. He was a werewolf. Ron's hands become even more sweaty. He didn't want to be near her at anyway. Self doubt came pouring down on him, his breathing became erratic. His felt uneasy, knowing that he could probably go berserk at any moment. He wasn't sure how his powers worked or how to even control them. She saw how Ron looked and snapped her fingers in front of his face.

He jumped, "Bloody hell, you didn't have to do that!"

"Language, Ronald," she mumbled. "You looked like you'd seen the worst thing imaginable in your whole life for a second there!"

He rubbed the back of his freckled neck, "M'sorry, I'm just a little worn out."

She pursed her lips, her eyes wandering to her overlapped hands on the bed, "Ron, about yesterday… I-"

"I'm sorry," Ron had cut her off with sincerity. "Look, I just… You know how poor I am with words."

She looked impressed to say the least. Her mouth that was a bit agape spoke, "Ronald Weasley? Apologizing? That's unheard of!"

He smiled broadly, "Hermione Granger? Joking around? That's unheard of!"

The brunette playfully punched his broad shoulders, her playful smile still evident, "Haha, very funny."

- RWHG -

The very next day, Ron was at the Commons with just Hermione. Harry called it quits after getting into another quarrel with Malfoy. The red head looked at his essay, groaning with frustration. It was due tomorrow, and he had barely started. While writing the Potions essay, his mind wandered to the night he got attacked. He looked up a bit to where Hermione was to only find a mass of brown hair behind a book. Ron sighed, looking down at his hands.

Should I tell her? He couldn't stop looking at her even if there was a book in the way. I've known her for so long… and Harry.

Before he got caught by the brunette, he briskly went back to copying her essay and paraphrasing it to his own words. Doubt started to bury him after thinking about telling them his secret. He knew he couldn't keep it forever, but there were obstacles that blocked him from passing through. He could imagine a million of scenarios that would all end with the say thing:

"You're a monster."

What made it worse would be that it came from her mouth. She would say those words. As if on cue, he heard Hermione clear her throat.

"So," she finally looked up from her book, "how was your day?"

Blimey, isn't the man s'pose to start to conversation? he turned around to come in contact with her chocolate brown eyes, "The same."

Hermione's brow went up, "The same?"

He rubbed the back of his freckled neck, "Y'know, the usual eat breakfast, go to class, copy work-"

"No, let me rephrase it," she rolled her eyes. "How are you?"

"Uh," he looked down at his fingers. "Fine."

"Are you sure?" Hermione came closer, making Ron's ears turn a shade of red. "You're not good at hiding at how you're in some sort of trance."

Buggering fuck, she's brilliant, he cleared his throat. "I'm just, uh, thinking about what happened recently, you know."

That seemed to satisfy her somehow, but not all the way through. She dismissed him to go back to his work, blushing behind her book. Distracted, he turned to look at Hermione again. Her hair was in a ponytail, something that made Ron go crazy for. No matter how she fixed her hair, she was a diamond in the rough to his eyes. Before he got caught again, he went back to his essay for Professor Umbridge.

As he worked on it, he couldn't help but to be irritated by the sound he was picking up.

Thump-thump-thump-thump…

A heartbeat? he questioned with perplexity. Where the hell is that coming from?

There was so much to learn.