A/N: More thanks for reviews, keep them coming! x

An owl came to deliver the paper just as Ron entered the kitchen the following morning. Tentatively, he dug around in his robes for a few spare sickles, when Rodolphus clapped him on the back. "Not to worry, lad, you're a guest."

Ron was relieved; he wouldn't have had enough anyway. "Right. Thanks," he said, taking a seat beside Rodolphus at the table. He glanced at the headline: DARK LORD'S REIGN OF PUREST POWER SPREADS; MUGGLE KILLINGS ABOUND. He suppressed a snort. All the headlines had been parroting things like this lately; the freedom of the press had been somewhat revoked under Voldemort's reign, and most reporters—particularly that simpering bitch Rita Skeeter—had instantly altered their styles of writing. It seemed all printed word existed for the sole purpose of proclaiming adoration for the Voldemort and his cause.

Rodolphus caught him studying his paper, and gave an appreciative chuckle. "Fantastic, isn't it? Bloody Muggles don't stand a chance," he said almost boastfully, sipping tea brought by the house-elves. Ron grunted in agreement.

A flash of white from the corner of his eye caught Ron's attention, and he turned, his heart leaping in his chest—but it was another girl clad in the white dressing gown worn by servants of Lestrange manor. She met Ron's eyes shyly, with a slight inclination of her head, then turned to Rodolphus. He sized her up with an appreciative grin, and she blushed deeply, smiling as she turned to help prepare breakfast. Rodolphus seemed to get on particularly well with his servants.

Fury swelled inside of Ron. If this bastard had touched Hermione—

Suddenly he heard voices, just outside the kitchen, and he and Rodolphus both turned towards their source.

"Come now, love, in you get, there's a good girl…" Bellatrix's cooing preceded her as she entered the kitchen, leading a rather dazed-looking Hermione inside with her. Ron's heart leapt a second time, and he jumped involuntarily to his feet, gazing speechlessly at the love of his life standing before him.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus eyed him curiously, and Ron colored. It was clearly not customary to rise at the entrance of a servant, and the married couple hardly seemed to be willing to do it for one another.

Recovering swiftly, he bowed deeply. "Good morning, Madame Lestrange."

Bellatrix nodded curtly, still somewhat confused. "Yes, good morning." She turned her attention back to the girl, ushering her over to a chair three seats from Ron's and sitting down beside her.

"Thank you, Mistress," the girl mumbled blearily. Ron prickled with anger to hear Hermione address Bellatrix in such a subservient manner. He cleared his throat, trying to get her to make eye contact with him, but she would not look up.

"Isn't she going to help with the meal?" asked Rodolphus irritably.

Bellatrix whipped her head around to look at him, eyes blazing. "I hardly think she's in a decent state for cooking," she hissed angrily.

"What's the matter with her?"

"She—" Bellatrix pursed her lips mid-sentence. "Later." Hermione seemed not to have heard her.

A somewhat tense silence ensued. "Aren't you going to greet our guest, dear?" Bellatrix asked Hermione, who turned to Ron and gave a small smile.

"Good morning," she said sweetly, and Ron thought his heart might melt at the sound of her voice. She was speaking to him, finally, after three years…he hadn't realized how much he'd missed her voice alone.

"G-good morning," he stammered, confused—hadn't she reacted last night; hadn't she recognized him? He was certain that she had…his eyes bore deeply into hers as he tried to convey the message, it's me, Ron, I'm here, I've come for you—

But she turned back to stare vacantly at the tablecloth. What had happened?

"Is breakfast nearly ready?" barked Bellatrix. The house-elf and other servant girl rushed over to the table.

"Here you are, Mistress Bellatrix," said the girl as she set the steaming plates down on the table. "And for you, Master." She slid his plate towards Rodolphus. He winked, and the girl blushed once more.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "That will do," she said icily. "Go and see to the garden." The girl bowed as she was dismissed, and the house-elf followed.

The rest of breakfast was lost to Ron. He attempted to stomach the articles Rodolphus kept passing him, responding with what he hoped were appreciative laughs to his twisted comments. He spent most of his time casting furtive glances at Hermione, trying not to make his transfixion obvious. She did not look at him again, hardly reacted to anything at all, only to speak politely when Bellatrix addressed her.

"How are you feeling, pet?" Bella asked her when the meal was nearly finished.

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "I'm a bit tired, Mistress. I feel…rather odd."

What the hell has she done to her? Ron thought desperately.

Bellatrix nodded and waved her wand, summoning a mug of steaming tea from the countertop. "Drink this. It'll help."

Murmuring her thanks, Hermione lifted her lips to the mug and began to sip. After a moment she sighed and closed her eyes.

"Better?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione's eyes flew open, brighter than they'd been all morning, and she nodded more enthusiastically. "Much better, Mistress; thank you!"

Bella gave her an affectionate smile and finished her breakfast before speaking again. "You'd best go lie down a bit more. I'll send for you later."

Obediently, Hermione curtsied and left the room, without so much as a backwards glance at Ron. His chest ached as she disappeared out of sight.

"What was all that about?" Rodolphus asked with mild interest, not removing his eyes from the paper. Ron leant inexorably forward, craving to know what had prompted this bizarre change of circumstances.

Bellatrix cleared her throat. "I was getting nowhere with her. She hadn't spoken in days; you saw how it was. And then last night, she had some sort of…strange reaction." Her dark eyes darted momentarily to Ron. "I had to modify her memory."

Ron's grip tightened on his fork so much he thought he might break it. "You what?" he asked loudly.

Alarmed, Bellatrix turned back to him, her eyebrows high on her forehead. "I beg your pardon?"

Rodolphus actually looked at him over his paper, his eyebrows raised like his wife's. Ron swore mentally. "I only meant—it must have been an extreme case. What required a Memory Charm?" His question was transparent, he knew, and though Rodolphus turned his attention back to the Prophet after a moment, Bellatrix kept her eyes threateningly fixed on him.

"The girl, obviously, is a Mudblood we acquired after the war," she said coolly. "She lost several of her pathetic little friends during the final battle and was just informed of another loss a few days ago." Bellatrix sniffed. "This one was…particularly difficult for her to handle." Her eyes hardened. "It was near impossible for her to function properly. She's better off this way." Her tone was firm, successfully masking any qualms she'd had about her action.

Nodding acquiescently to cover his rage, Ron turned to finish his meal, and found that he already had some time ago. Rather awkwardly, he placed his fork back on the table, avoiding looking back up into Bellatrix's dangerous stare. He would have to be especially careful around Bellatrix for the next few days. Once she suspected something, he knew he'd be done for.

Bella summoned the house-elf to clear the table.

"Thank you for the pleasure of dining with you," said Ron in what he hoped was a gallant tone of voice.

With a curt nod, Bellatrix exited quickly.

"Where's she off to in such a hurry?" Ron asked Rodolphus, who looked up with a roll of his eyes.

"Off to see the girl again, I expect," he answered indifferently. "Not really sure what she's done to her, but she hasn't left her alone for more than a few minutes."

Ron nodded, the gears of his mind turning furiously. I have to get her alone, he thought.

He would get through to her. She had to remember him. She was his everything.

She had to.