Here it is, a day before planned. I'm not sure if I can post tomorrow, so ... The action you're all waiting is not here yet, but it's coming! I hope you enjoy this chapter. It answers a few questions that had been nagging you for ages, but, of course there are new questions as well.

Before the Storm

Ten minutes later, Ginny came back to the common room, and found the twins, Harry, Hermione and Neville sitting by the fire, talking again about what was going to happen that evening.

"Don't you think we should evacuate Hogwarts?" Neville was asking, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I mean, there are first and second years here ..."

"It wouldn't be a bad idea," said Harry.

"Ron thinks he can beat them all, without help. I suppose he doesn't believe they can enter the castle," said Hermione.

"But he can make mistakes," replied Harry, concerned, looking at her. "Remember what happened at the Ministry. You could have died there!"

The memories of what had happened made Hermione shiver. She didn't say anything.

"Perhaps we should suggest it," proposed Ginny. "Do you know what exactly he is planning?" she asked, addressing Harry and Hermione. "Did he tell you if he plans on confronting them at the gates, in the Entrance Hall, in the grounds ...?"

"No," Harry answered. "He didn't tell us anything of that sort."

"In any case, the Slytherins should be watched, some of them could try to help the Death Eaters," piped up Fred.

"I'm sure Ron has thought about that," said Hermione. "I'd say he scared them pretty badly yesterday evening."

They fell silent as some of the Gryffindors began to exit the common room to go to the Great Hall for lunch. Hermione saw Ginny watching them.

"Let's go have lunch?" Ginny suggested. "I'm sure Mum and the others will be there."

They nodded silently, and standing up, they headed for the Great Hall.

Mrs Weasley was already there, with Bill and Fleur, and, surprisingly, Mr Weasley. Lupin and Tonks were there too. Ron, however, was not in the Hall.

"We didn't expect you to be here, Dad," Ginny commented, sitting down next to him.

"I wanted to be here, and Kingsley agreed," Mr Weasley explained. "Things in the Ministry are going smooth and if the Death Eaters are going to attack Hogwarts this evening, as Ron expects, I think this is the place to stay. Kingsley will come later, too."

"Speaking about Ron," Fred intervened. "Have you seen him?"

"Well, he contacted me and Tonks to send Vincent Crabbe, Theodore Nott and Amycus Carrow to the Ministry," answered Lupin, "but that was almost two hours ago."

"Did you send them to Azkaban?" Hermione asked.

"Amycus, yes; the others, not yet," said Tonks sternly. "They're held at the Ministry for interrogation. Nott was frightened, but the other, Crabbe, was especially rude and quite violent."

Hermione began to put food into her plate, and, as she started eating, watched Mrs Weasley carefully. She didn't seem as distressed as last night, but looked quite sad, and she didn't seem very hungry. Every few minutes, she turned her head towards the doors, probably expecting to see Ron.

The desserts had just appeared on the table when finally Ron came into the Hall, walking with long strides, his cloak billowing behind him. But, instead of moving towards them, he headed for the High Table. McGonagall stood up and bent over the table, undoubtedly believing Ron wanted to speak to her, but he didn't. Once he was there, he turned round and faced the entire Hall.

"Pay attention to me," he said coldly, his voice loud and commanding. The request — or order — was unnecessary: everyone was already looking at him since the moment he had set foot in the Hall.

"Yesterday's afternoon I delivered a message to that wizard who calls himself 'Lord Voldemort'," he explained, his eyes wandering over the four tables. "And this evening, at dusk, he'll come here, with what's left of his army."

The silence was broken by some yells and sighs of fear and terror. Hermione noticed that some students had paled, and others had begun to whisper frantically to their friends.

"He's going to kill us!" someone yelled from the Hufflepuff table.

Ron didn't say anything for a minute, silently observing the Great Hall. The sounds of whispers and conversations grew louder and louder, until he spoke again. "Silence!" he bellowed, and every whisper, every conversation, died at once and everyone focused their eyes on him. "You have nothing to fear," Ron added. "I'll take care of everything. You don't have to worry about anything."

Professor McGonagall, sensing that the students were still distressed, addressed Ron.

"Mr Weasley ... Ron," she began, unsure. "Perhaps we should think about evacuating the students."

Ron didn't even look at her. "No," he said, loudly.

"Why not?" asked a girl from Ravenclaw table. She seemed afraid, but, with effort, plucked up some courage and continued, "There are children here. This is not our war, our fight. We don't want to be in the middle of it."

Ron stared at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was even colder than before. "This is not your fight? You don't want to be in the middle of it?" The poor girl who had asked flinched in her seat. "Of course this is your fight! Haven't you been tortured and cruelly punished by Death Eaters? How many of you had lost relatives because of Lord Voldemort? I'm sorry to tell you this," he said sarcastically, "but you are already in the middle of the war." He paused again and began to pace, slowly, in front of the High Table, his eyes fixed on the students. "I know there are children here. I'm perfectly aware of that. As I know that this place is a school, and you have come here to learn. That's why you're not leaving: because I want you to learn."

"Learn?" Ginny muttered, confused.

"I want you to learn who he is and what he is capable of; I want you all to remember this war, this fight, the people which have died in it. I want you to know how close you have been to lose everything," Ron explained vehemently. Hermione stared at him in awe, because since his return, she had never heard him speaking with such intensity in his voice. "I want you to remember the lies he spread and the threats he made. I want you to know what is right and what is wrong. So you're staying here, you're going to see it, to see him, and one day you'll tell you sons and daughters about him, so something like this won't happen again. Any questions about this?" he asked. Nobody dared to speak. "Perfect," he continued. "I want you to see, but, even though you think I don't, I do care about your wellbeing, so listen to me." He paused again, making sure everyone was paying him attention, and then resumed talking, "No one, under any circumstances, will leave the castle. You'll be allowed to go to your common rooms for a short time after lunch, and then, when you're called, you'll be back here. After the call, no one will be alone or outside the Great Hall without my permission. Is that clear?" A deathly silence was the only response. Ron seemed satisfied. "That's all, then."

Ron walked towards the Gryffindor table and sat down in the bench beside Harry. "Have you seen anything?" he asked him, without saying a simply 'hello'.

"No," Harry answered, shaking his head.

"Where have you been, Ron?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"Here and there," Ron said vaguely, helping himself to a portion of chocolate tart.

"Are you sure about keeping the students here, son?" Mr Weasley asked.

"Yes, I am," Ron responded. "I'm not changing my views on that. They need to know."

A few minutes later, as soon as the students finished eating, McGonagall stood up. "The heads of house will escort you to your common rooms," she informed. "The prefects will ensure no one leaves them until you are called, okay?" She exchanged a look with the other heads of house and they also stood up. "Go on, then."

Slowly and in order, the tables were vacated. As the Gryffindors began to rise to follow McGonagall, Ginny looked at Ron. "We have to go, too, or are we allowed to be out of Gryffindor tower?" she asked, frowning.

"You can go to the Guests Rooms if you want. Wait there for me," he said, and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"For a walk," he said.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, nervous. "Can I — can I go with you?"

"What for?" he asked, staring at her.

"I want to talk to you about something."

"Not now," he said.

"When, then?" she asked, anxious. She didn't know what was going to happen, and she needed to know, needed to ask before the battle.

"I'll go to the Astronomy Tower later. You can come then if you want. I'll fetch you in your room."

"All right," she nodded.

"Dad, Remus, Tonks, Mum, Bill, Fleur, Fred and George," Ron said, looking at the people he had named. "Patrol the corridors with the professors. I don't want any student wandering around."

"All right then," Lupin said. "We'll coordinate with McGonagall. Let's wait for her in the staff room."

The others nodded and left the Great Hall, so that only Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione remained there.

"What about us?" asked Harry. "What can we do?"

"You wait in your room. Since you decided you wanted to be able to monitor him, you can do that. You have my old wand, so you can alert me if something happens. Ginny can wait there with you, and Hermione too."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Ginny protested.

"Then snog Harry or do whatever you want, but stay there!" Ron exclaimed, leaving Harry and Ginny speechless. Hermione stared at Ron open-mouthed.

"Ron!" she scolded.

"What?" he said. "That's exactly what Harry wants, and Ginny wants it too. I don't know why you're making such a fuss about things that are so simple."

Harry blushed deeply. "That's not what I want!" he yelled. "Well, not — not exactly. I mean — that's not all I want," he tried to explain, and lowered his gaze, embarrassed.

"I'm not going to snog anyone," Ginny said then, folding her arms tightly across her chest in an annoyed gesture, her face pink.

"Then talk, or sleep, or stay in silence," said Ron, "but stay there." And without another word, he walked away.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" asked Ginny, furious and embarrassed, looking at Ron's back as he strode towards the doors.

"Forget it, Ginny," Harry said, still blushing, and stood up. "We'd better do as he told us and go to the rooms."

"You have good reasons to want to do everything he asks you to do, like if you were his house elf," snapped Ginny, "but I don't owe him obedience!" yelled Ginny, and then added, in a low voice, "It's him who left."

"It was our fault, Ginny. Only ours," Harry said sadly. "If you have to blame someone, blame us."

"I blame you, don't worry about that," Ginny said. "But he could have come home, with his family!" she huffed, and wiped away a tear. "Let's go," she said after a while, and got to her feet.

Together, the three of them went up to the guest rooms in silence. Hermione didn't know what to say, and Harry and Ginny were too embarrassed — and furious, in Ginny's case — to talk.

"Do you want to come to my room, then?" asked Harry shyly, once they were in the guest rooms' corridor.

"Later," said Ginny, and turned to Hermione. "Can we talk in your room?"

"Yes, of course," Hermione nodded, surprised. "See you later, Harry," she told him. Harry went into his room and Hermione opened her door, let Ginny go in before her and, after closing the door, sat down on the bed. Ginny sat on the windowsill.

"Harry and I talked in the morning," began Ginny, looking out of the window.

"Yes, I know," Hermione said.

"I'm sure he told you everything we talked about," she commented.

"More or less, yes."

Ginny turned her head and stared at Hermione. "I don't really want to have this talk with you, Hermione," she admitted.

"I understand," said Hermione. "Why are you doing it, then?"

"Because there's no one else to talk about it," Ginny confessed. "And because — well, I don't know. I don't want to stay angry forever, I suppose. What's the point in that?"

Warmth spread through Hermione's body. "Thanks, Ginny."

"Don't thank me," replied Ginny. She seemed angry, despite everything. "Harry told me everything what happened between you and him last June," continued Ginny.

Hermione nodded.

"I can understand why he didn't tell anything, Hermione. I mean, you were his best friend's girlfriend. He fell in love with you and couldn't help it. But you?" she asked fiercely. "You've always been sincere and honest, Hermione. Why did you hide something like that?"

Hermione lowered her gaze.

"I was stupid, Ginny. I have no defence, no excuses. I simply thought it would go away. The term was ending. I believed it would go away, because when I was with Ron I felt almost normal, the way I wanted to feel. It was wrong, I know it. But I wanted it to go away. I didn't want to hurt Ron, and if I had told him ..." she shook her head. "But in the end, it was worse," she finished, almost crying.

"That would have been a talk," Ginny commented with a sigh, "telling Ron you had fallen in love with Harry ..."

"But I should have done it!" she yelled, sobbing.

"Yes, you should," nodded Ginny.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm sorry for everything. I know it doesn't matter how m-many times I say it, but I'm s-sorry," Hermione cried. "What I did to your f-family ... Merlin, I can't understand it!"

"Me neither," said Ginny. "I saw you, Hermione, during those months. You two were ... well, simply amazing. I had never seen Ron, or you, so happy. And then ... this. That was what made me so angry. Not only that I thought that you had been lying to me about Harry, but that you had led Ron on just to break his heart later. When I read the letter he sent me, where he told me that everything had been a lie, I almost went mad."

"I know," said Hermione. "But it was never a lie, Ginny. I had never felt anything like that for Harry before. I was so happy with Ron ... God, just thinking about Harry that way now is disgusting! But I couldn't help it. I don't understand, and I never will. It's as if part of me couldn't stop thinking about him, despite the remorse and the guilt. I don't know why I didn't go completely mad."

Hermione looked up at Ginny and wiped away her tears. "I never wanted to hurt Ron, Ginny. Never. If I had known what I was going to cause, I — I would have left Hogwarts and never come back."

"I don't think Ron would have liked that, Hermione. You would have broken his heart if you had done that. You would have hurt all of us, the people who loved you."

"I hurt all of you, the people who loved me."

Ginny didn't reply, and Hermione lowered her gaze and didn't say anything more, because she didn't know what to say.

"You and Harry did good things, however," said Ginny after a few moments. Hermione looked up at her again. "When you saved those Muggleborns. That gave people hope. That gave us hope. We felt that you were trying to do what you had to. Dad and the Order helped a few of them escape the country, with their families. They were very grateful towards you."

"I suppose your father didn't want to hear that."

"One thing has nothing to do with the other, Hermione. The world is more important than any of us. And despite everything, we were glad to know you were all right."

"But you told me we weren't doing anything, the day we came back," commented Hermione. "You accused us of being on a honeymoon."

"That happened at the end of September," Ginny said. "After that, nobody knew anything more about you two. We were losing hope. And I got very angry when I saw you with Ron."

"You had every right to be angry. You should be angry right now."

"My anger won't solve anything," said Ginny. "You say you're sorry. I see you, and I believe you really are. Besides ... well, Ron told Mum and me that his decision to leave was only his, that you and Harry were not to be blamed for that."

"But we are," Hermione replied. "And I know it, and so does Harry. And you said it yourself. He left because he couldn't stand it, seeing that kiss, thinking that we were together, that our relationship had been a lie." Hermione remembered the letter, and lowered her head, feeling tears well in her eyes once more.

"That's true," Ginny nodded, serious. "And I told him that. It was him who said that he could have gone to The Burrow. But he didn't because there was something he needed to do. And —" she started to say, but stopped.

"And — what?" asked Hermione, raising her head once more.

Ginny hesitated.

"Ginny?"

"He said that we should forget what you did," Ginny said at last. "That you were sorry, really sorry; that you did care for him, despite what had happened; that you didn't want to hurt him; that you had said the truth and things had not happened the way he had told me in his letter; that your relationship with him hadn't been a lie. He told us that he didn't care, that it was in the past, that he was fine now, so we shouldn't care, either; he said that you were part of the family once, and that, if we cared about him, we would go on and forget, because the day would come when we would need you, and you us."

"What?" Hermione said, completely astonished. "When — when did he tell you that?"

"Yesterday, when Mum asked him to come to her room, before dinner."

"What did he mean with 'the day will come when we will need you, and you us'?" Hermione wanted to know, feeling that those words were a foreboding omen, a sign of something bad to come.

"He didn't tell us. He asked me to say the same to the others, and I did, when we went to Mum's room while Ron and you two talked in yours."

"Oh!" said Hermione, suddenly realising something. "When George told me that he was sorry, that you had told them things hadn't happened the way you all believed ... he wasn't talking about what I had told you, but about what Ron had told you!"

"Yes," confirmed Ginny.

"Why didn't you say anything about this?"

"Because Ron said that we shouldn't tell you he had asked us that."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you telling me now, then?" asked Hermione, looking at her.

"Because I am annoyed at him," said Ginny, with a scowl. "And because I am scared and I need to know if you understand the meaning of what he said."

"No," Hermione answered, shaking her head. "I don't know what that means."

Ginny looked out of the window again, worry etched upon her face.

"He didn't tell you what he had to do, did he?" Hermione asked after a few moments.

"No, he didn't," sighed Ginny, and her expression saddened. She lowered her gaze and sighed. "I want my brother back," she whispered.

"I want my best friend back, too," said Hermione. "Even if he doesn't want to see me ever again," she added, and a lonely tear ran down her cheek. "I know very well I don't deserve him. But I'd do anything to see him, the old him, back, even if he hates me and doesn't speak to me ever again."

"You said you loved him, yesterday," said Ginny.

"Yes."

"You thought that once, and you fell in love with Harry."

"I know. And, as I've said, I don't understand it. But now I'm even surer than last year, Ginny. I miss him, the way he could make me smile; the way he said 'everything'll be all right' every time I read that some Muggles had died and he made me feel better; the way he could infuriate me so much and next instant make me melt completely; the way he looked at me, with such intensity, and made me feel so flustered, so —"

"Stop, stop, stop!" said Ginny, raising one hand. "I get it. I don't need more details."

"Sorry," said Hermione, embarrassed. "I got a bit carried away."

"The more we talk, Hermione, the less I understand what happened."

"Yes, I know. But now I see him, and want all that: I want to hug him, and kiss him ... but, at the same time, he sends shivers down my spine; at the same time, he scares me."

They felt silent for a bit, both deep in thought, and then Ginny spoke again.

"Ron was right, you know. I still fancy Harry. I wish I didn't, to tell you the truth, but I do."

"Ginny, I know we talked about this yesterday. I thought you had the right to know, and that I had to help. But now ... maybe you should discuss this with a friend, not with me."

"You're the one whom I talked to about Harry. You're the one who've always given me advices."

"Yes, but after what happened —"

"Do you feel something for him?" asked Ginny, narrowing her eyes.

"No," answered Hermione. "No, I told you it is disgusting now. I haven't forgotten what happened, but I try to push it to be bottom of my mind. I don't want to think about it, I hate that it happened."

"Then will you listen?"

Hermione stared at her for a few moments and then nodded.

"I fancy him, but I don't trust him. And it hurts me to say this, Hermione, because I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

"It's normal, after what happened, Ginny. Don't feel bad for that. I wouldn't trust him, or me, if I were you."

"It's hard, Hermione, to know that the person you've fancied almost forever fancies you back and you can't do anything, because you're too hurt."

"I've never experienced that, so I cannot tell you anything. But I imagine it must be hard, yes."

"I don't know what to do," said Ginny dejectedly. "Ron asked us to forget and go on. Part of me wishes exactly that. Part of me wants nothing more than to leave the sorrow, the pain, behind me. Behind us all. Yesterday, when I saw you in that bed, I knew that I still cared about you. When Dad told us that Harry had tried to get between Umbridge and Ron, I knew I still cared about him, despite everything. But how can I trust him again? How can I trust you again?"

Hermione didn't know what to say.

"Make him earn your trust. If he deserves you, then he'll wait. If he deserves you, he'll do anything."

"How?" asked Ginny. "How can he earn my trust?"

"I don't know, Ginny. Doing the right thing, I suppose. Not making more mistakes. I don't know. Maybe it's impossible. You're the only one who can answer that."

Ginny looked at the floor, apparently deep in thought, for a while, but then raised her head again and looked at Hermione.

"It doesn't matter," Ginny said. "This is not the moment. After the war ... we'll see."

"Yes, we'll see."

"Because it is going to end, isn't it?" asked Ginny, looking afraid once more. "I want it to end. These past months had been horrible. The worst of my life."

"If Ron says it'll end, then it'll end. I have faith in him," Hermione assured, but the truth was that she was scared, too.

"Hermione, I'm afraid for him. I don't like how what he said to us sounds. What if ... what if he wins but — but something happens to him?"

"I'm afraid of that, too," said Hermione, starting to feel anxious. "But he's so powerful, Ginny. You saw what he can do. And ... and he won't be alone. I'll be with him, by his side."

"He said he would confront him on his own."

"I'll be with him, by his side," repeated Hermione, determined. "Nothing in the world will keep me away from him when the moment comes."

"Do you promise that?" asked Ginny, sounding a bit desperate. "I'd help, but I know that he, Dad, Mum and the others won't let me get near the battle. You say you love him. Do you promise me that you'll help him if he needs you? That you won't let anything bad happen to him?"

"I promise," declared Hermione. "I'd give my life for him, Ginny. Without hesitation. He deserves to live. He deserves to live much more than me."

Ginny nodded, and both girls locked eyes. And for a moment, despite what had happened, despite that they were no longer friends, Hermione felt a sudden connection with the other girl, a connection forged upon the fear and love they both shared for Ron.

After a few moments, Ginny tore her eyes away from Hermione's, and threw a new glance out of the window before speaking again.

"Hermione ... how does Ron know all those things?" she asked. "How did he discover Snape's secrets, or that I still fancy Harry?"

"I don't understand it completely," said Hermione. "But he can do some sort of incredibly powerful Legilimency. He can sense things, thoughts ... those things."

"He is so amazing now, and yet ... I'd exchange him for the old Ron in a heartbeat."

"Me too," said Hermione. "Me too."

Ginny stood up.

"I'm going to see Mum, and check on Harry, to know if he had seen something. Do you want to come?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, you go. I'm going to lie down a bit and wait for Ron."

"Okay," Ginny nodded, and left the room.

Hermione lay down on her side and curled her legs. She stared at the window, seeing the snowflakes fall, and fell asleep.

o o o

The sound of someone walking into the room awakened her suddenly. Not knowing where she was for a moment, she sat up on the bed, frightened, until she remembered what had happened. Breathing heavily, she looked at the door and saw Ron. Relaxed, she let herself fall onto the mattress.

"I'm going to the Astronomy Tower," he told her. "The sun will be down in less than one hour. Are you coming?"

She nodded and stood up. She took her cloak and put it on. "Ready," she said.

Together, they left the room and walked along the corridors towards the staircase, which they climbed up until they reached the seventh floor.

"Did you talk to Harry?" she asked, as they headed for the stairs that led to the Astronomy Tower.

"I didn't talk to anyone," he answered.

They reached the top of the tower and walked towards its border. It had stopped snowing and the wind had calmed. Hermione put her hands over the cold stone and watched the snow-covered grounds. All seemed calm and quiet.

"Well, what do you want to talk about?" asked Ron.

Hermione took a deep breath and turned her head to look at him. She was going to start, but then she realised that, according to Ginny, Ron already knew what she wanted to tell him. "I wanted to tell you everything, Ron. I wanted you to know everything that happened last June," she said. "I didn't want you to think I was having an affair, that I was seeing Harry behind your back, that I didn't respect you. But —"

Ron looked at her. "Why?" he asked.

"I needed to tell you."

"I don't care, Hermione. I've told you that several times," he said softly.

"Your letter made me cry, Ron. I hurt you so badly and I am so sorry for it —"

"I know you are sorry," Ron cut her in. "I told you this morning that I know that. I can feel it. And, to tell you the truth, it's starting to be a bit irritating."

"Sorry, I just can't stop —"

"For heaven's sake, Hermione, stop saying 'sorry'!"

Hermione lowered her head, not knowing what to say or what to do, but, after a while, she looked up at him again.

"I wanted to tell you that our relationship was never a lie," Hermione said vehemently. "What I told you at Slughorn's party was true. All of it. You weren't a replacement for Harry or anything like that. I really, really loved you. But — well, you already know that."

Ron frowned.

"Ginny," he whispered. "She told you, didn't she?"

Hermione blushed, and nodded.

"I told her not to say anything," said Ron, and sighed. "Yes, I know all that. You don't have to tell me. It's in your voice, all over you. I know all that now. I walk along the corridors and sense it in the castle, in the air; the echoes of what happened, of what we once shared, of what we once were. But it's in the past now. What is what you really want, Hermione?"

"I want you," she blurted, without the slightest shame. The time for shyness had passed long ago. "I know I don't deserve you, and I don't expe—"

"No, you don't love me," he replied, interrupting her. "We've been through this. You can't love me; you can't love what I am."

"I want your old self, then!" she bellowed, sniffling.

"That Ron doesn't exist anymore, and you know it," he responded. "Why do you keep doing this?" he asked. "Why do you torture yourself?"

"I can't stop it!" she yelled. "This is not fair," she added in a lower voice, sobbing. "I made a mistake. Something horrible, I know. Must I suffer all my life for it?"

Ron shrugged, his face showing clearly that he didn't really care.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"You said you can't love me," she told him.

"And it's true."

"I thought that it was, too ... until you used the White Light on me," she confessed. "When it got inside me, I felt as if you loved me again. It is impossible for you not to love and be able to conjure something like that. I felt it, Ron!" she yelled, seizing the front of his jumper. "It was the most wonderful thing I've ever felt. And you asked your family to forgive us, to forget what had happened!"

Ron looked at her for a long time, as if he were pondering what she had told him.

"I want to feel that again," she continued after a minute. "I miss it. I know I don't deserve it, I know I have no right, but I can't help wanting it. I know you must have buried your love deeply so you won't suffer again, but I want it back. I know it's inside you," she insisted, and pressed her forehead against his chest, relishing on the proximity of his lean, strong body. "I understand it's too soon, but I just want you to know that, if someday, in a year, or in five, or in ten, you feel you can forgive me, I'll be here, waiting. I'll wait for you forever, Ron, because you're worth it."

A hand brushed a strand of her hair and tugged it behind her ear. Surprised by the gentle touch, she looked up at him. That touch had been the only affectionate gesture he had made towards her since he had returned.

"I've always liked your hair," he commented, but his voice was totally emotionless. "I knew you'd come to me with this when I used the Light on you," he added, softly, but there was no real feeling in his voice. "That's why I told you to forget it when we were going to send Alecto to Voldemort and you tried to ask." He paused for a moment and put another strand behind the other ear. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears leaking from them and run down her wet face. "Your hopes, your expectations, won't come true," he told her. "You'll have to move on," he advised, and moved away from her.

"I don't want to move on," she said. "I don't want to forget it. I can't forget it, because I felt it. You cannot deny it."

"I don't feel love, Hermione," he insisted. "Drop it."

"You're not a loveless monster like Voldemort!" Hermione bellowed. "I refuse to believe that!"

Ron didn't answer. He looked away, over the trees of the Forbidden Forest, at the mountains past Hogsmeade. Hermione stared at him, anxiously waiting for an answer.

"I don't feel love," he repeated, after a long silence.

"There's love in you!" she replied fervently. "I felt it!"

"I didn't say there wasn't," Ron answered. "I said that I don't feel it."

Hermione stared at him, confused, and waited for an explanation. Ron turned his head towards her.

"You asked me once how I had succeeded in stopping loving you," he said. "The truth is that I never did, Hermione," he confessed, and something inside her roared with joy. "I tried, but to no avail. But I didn't want that love. I believed that everything had been a lie. Now I know that it wasn't, but then ... I was hurt, I felt so betrayed, I felt unwanted ... That love was hurting me so much, so I sacrificed it."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, the joyful sensation she had felt vanishing quickly, replaced by a cold feeling of dread.

"The power I have, Hermione, where do you think it comes from? I told you I've found my Source. Well, it is not easy finding it, you know. You have to give something."

"Give something?" Hermione repeated. "I don't understand."

"The love in my soul, Hermione, that's my Source, that's the origin of my new magical power, of my new magical knowledge. Didn't I tell you that love was the key point? I transformed the love I felt towards you, towards anyone, in fact, into a source of power and magic. Love is the most powerful feeling in the world, and that's why my Source is so powerful. But, as that love I had is now feeding the Source, I cannot feel it anymore. That's the price, or the sacrifice it comes with. For me, it was simply liberation: without the love there was no more pain, there was no more suffering. I have it, you know — love — but it is no longer a feeling. And without love, I cannot feel pity, or sympathy, or friendship. I cannot feel anything like that anymore. I cannot care, and there's no turning back, Hermione, it cannot be undone. Do you understand?" he asked. "I cannot feel anything for you, or for anyone else. Not anymore. It's over."

Hermione's blood had run cold inside her veins. Her body was shaking and a stream of tears was running down her face. It could not be true, it was impossible.

"No," she said, sobbing. "No, please ... You didn't do that. It cannot be true ..."

"How did you think I'd got this power?" he continued, unrelenting. "It has to come from somewhere. You can't get what I have for nothing, Hermione. Everything's has a price. This is my secret, and now you know it. Now you know that I cannot love anymore. So forget it, forget what we once had, and move on, because there is no future for you and me. It doesn't matter if you wait a year, ten, or a century. It is impossible. It will never happen."

"Why?" she asked, defeated and desperate. "Why did you do something like that?"

"Because I couldn't stand the pain. I wanted it to stop, to go away. I had lost you and Harry, I felt like a failure and I wanted ... needed, to be something by myself."

"But I can't stop loving you!" she yelled, desperate. "You and I were good together. We complemented each other perfectly, we had so many — so many good times together ..." she added, her voice tailing away.

"Not anymore," he said. "I don't need you, Hermione. I know everything about magic now. I'm powerful and confident. I don't need anyone. I'm perfectly well on my own. And you ... you don't want someone like me. I was the one who made you laugh, who made you loosen up and enjoy life. But I'm not like that anymore."

Hermione began to cry even harder. She felt as if someone had ripped out her heart, leaving an empty hole in her chest. A hole that would never be filled again.

"I told you I didn't care about you the first day," Ron added. "I warned you. You saw me, how I am now. What did you expect, Hermione? Did you believe that, once the war had finished, everything would be back to normal? That we would be together again?"

"I — I didn't e-expect anything, not r-really," she muttered between sobs. "I knew that I had lost my chance with y-you, that, I h-had no right to w-want you b-back, that I d-didn't d-deserve you. But after feeling the — the White Light I — I —" she started crying harder, the magnitude of what Ron had told her, the magnitude of what she had caused when she had kissed Harry back in June flooded her, making her feel dizzy and lightheaded. It was all her fault. She had done this, to him, to herself ... And now she could see the While Light as some sort of a last punishment: it was not something that had healed her, but a reminder of what she had once had, a last taste of a love she wouldn't experience ever again.

"I'm sorry," he said, but there was no regret in his voice. He had upset her, but it didn't really bother him. As he had said, he could not feel love or sympathy.

"You said you liked my hair," she said, almost whispering.

"I do," he affirmed. "I always have. I can't feel love, but I can appreciate beauty. And you're beautiful, Hermione. I've already told you that you're a good person, a strong and intelligent woman, and there are loads of things you can do. You'll make a difference. You'll do great things. I didn't want you to know what I had told my family, because I didn't want you to think that there was a possibility of me caring about you. I want you all to be fine, but that's all."

"It is not fair," she lamented. "I know I did wrong, Ron, that I made great mistakes, but I've paid for them during these months. Do I have to keep paying for them my entire life?"

"It was not a mistake," Ron replied. "You loved him then."

"But I didn't want to!" she yelled. "I didn't want to want Harry! I should have told you," she said, dejected. "I should have broken up with you, and you wouldn't have left, because you wouldn't have felt betrayed. But I was too scared. Every time I imagined how it would be to tell you I panicked. I thought it would go away once the term was over. I hoped that it would go away, that things would be like they had always been."

"You don't know if I'd have left or not," Ron responded. "Do you think I wouldn't have felt betrayed if you had told me you were in love with Harry? No one knows that, and thinking about it won't lead us anywhere. It was not just the kiss, Hermione. It was the fact that, after being with me, you fell in love with him."

Hermione didn't know what to say.

"I know that things were not that simple, that you still loved me and that you didn't want to hurt me and all that. But now it doesn't matter. Unfair or not, it happened. Forget it, Hermione, and go on."

"I can't. I feel like I had a hole in my chest," she said, letting out a sob.

"I know how it feels. I know it very well."

Neither of them said anything for a long time. Ron was watching the grounds, and Hermione was deep in her thoughts, replaying in her mind what she had heard, trying to cope with the definitive end of all her hope, all her dreams ...

"I always dreamt about finishing Hogwarts with you and Harry," she commented, almost whispering. "We'd take our NEWTs, and then would rent a flat, or a house ..." Her voice tailed away. "Until you left. Harry told you that, we stopped caring about the future after that."

"You can still do that," Ron told her. "You can come back. This war ends tonight, Hermione. You are free. You have your entire life ahead of you."

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "Are you — are you going to come back to Hogwarts after — after everything ends?"

"No," said Ron. "What's the point in doing so? There's nothing here that I can learn. Once this is over, I'll leave."

"Leave?" she repeated, looking up at him, suddenly afraid. He couldn't leave. Not so soon. But, on the other hand, why would she want him to stay? To see him, knowing that she couldn't have him, that he would never love her? An eternal reminder of her stupidity, of her foolishness? And yet ... the idea of not seeing him again was unbearable.

"Yes," he nodded. "There are a lot of things I can do, a lot of people I can help. Voldemort may be the worst evil the world has faced, but it's not the only one."

"So, after tonight, we — we won't see you again?" she asked.

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. But I suppose we'll meet somewhere ... someday."

Hermione was shaking with despair and a sudden and irrational loneliness. "I don't want to lose you, Ron. Not again."

Ron looked at her. "You'll be better off if you don't see me. It'll be easier for you to move on."

She was about to reply, to tell him again, that she didn't want to move on, but she stopped. Telling him was useless, but she knew that it was true, and that she never would. What she had told Harry was the truth: it was either Ron ... or no one. And she would wait, as she had said, even if there was no hope of him coming back to her.

Letting a lonely tear run down her cheek, she stood beside Ron, watching the grounds under the diminishing light. Above the mountains to the west, a tiny gap in the clouds let a weak beam of sunlight fall over the snowy trees of the Forbidden Forest just before the sun hid behind the mountain. It seemed a signal, an omen, indicating that the end was near.

"Time's almost over," Ron said when the beam of sunlight had extinguished.

"I want to know what happened to you when you left," piped up Hermione after a few minutes of silence. "I want to know how you became what you are, where you were, what you did."

Ron kept his eyes away, as the dimness around them seemed to grow second by second, leaving the grounds in the darkness.

"I've said plenty of times that I don't want to talk about that," he said finally.

"Please, Ron! If you cannot love me, if our friendship is over, do it for old times' sake. Please. I need to know."

"Why is it so important for you?" he asked, with a trace or curiosity in his voice. "There's nothing you can change. Why don't you let it go?"

"Because that's how I am, how I work," she answered. "I hate not knowing things, not understanding them, and you know it. I need to know. I need to know what I caused." She stared at him, pleadingly. "Tell me, please," she begged.

Ron seemed to consider it for a long moment. "You're mental, you know that?" Ron said finally.

"You used to tell me that all the time."

"There's no time for tales right now, Hermione. They're already here, waiting."

Hermione looked at the gates, but saw no one. He looked back at Ron.

"Tell me once the battle is over, then."

Ron seemed to think about it for a while.

"Okay," he accepted at last. "If you're so interested, I'll tell you, Hermione. But I'm warning you: you're not going to like it. Though if you insist, if it's so important for you, I'll explain. For old times' sake, as you've said."

"Thanks," she said. "Thanks."

But Ron was not paying her any attention. His eyes had narrowed, and they were fixed on the front gates of the school, now barely discernible due to the growing darkness.

And an instant later, a deafening sound, like a thunder, resounded over the grounds. A red lightning spread over the invisible barriers protecting the school, and disappeared a second later.

Hermione's head turned instantly to look at the gates, startled.

"It's time," Ron said. "They're ready."

Now you know why Ron acts this way! Voldemort is now at the gates, and they'll break next Sunday.

See you then!