A/N: Yes it's been a whole months wait for a short chapter but its a necessary chapter. So... there you go.

Chapter 48

Black masks bleeding, black blood seeping, uneven ballroom floors and weeping… Hermione jerked awake, grabbing the wrist of her assailant in a death grip.

"'Mione, it's just me," Ron's low timbre filled the emptiness of the room effortlessly. Hermione looked around wildly, taking in the grey afternoon sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the drawn curtains. She took in a shaky breath, dropping Ron's wrist and crossing her arms.

"What are you doing here?" She said, her voice choked and harsh sounding. She had cried herself to sleep, and she hadn't held back. After all, no one would hear her, because she was alone.

Ron sat on the edge of the bed, and for once, Crookshanks allowed him, although he nestled into Hermione's side with a protective sidelong glance.

"Blaise…" He began, guilt painted all over his face.

She rubbed her swollen eyes. "Of course Blaise told you. Of course."

"You haven't been to work in days, Hermione. We haven't seen or heard from you." He tried to lay a hand on her arm, but she shifted away.

"I just needed…" She averted her eyes to the tangled bedclothes.

"Some time alone. Yeah, I remember." His mouth pulled into a straight line.

She turned away, not able to face what she'd done to Ron and what she'd done to Draco in the same day. It felt like there was a ragged hole in her chest, and she was just trying to hold all of her pieces in. Didn't Ron understand that?

He was determined, however. "What happened?"

Hermione's eyes tingled, and she turned away, trying to hide her emminent tears. "I'm sure Blaise told you."

Ron make a little huff, and pulled her into a hug, to which crookshanks growled slightly. "I didn't hear it from you, so it doesn't count."

That was all it took for the dam to break open again. Hermione heard herself make a quiet, keening wail, and she buried her face in Ron's shoulder, probably soaking his hoodie with snot in the first second.

"I was… I was going to tell him. I just didn't know how… Ron… Ron…" She said between heavy breaths.

He rubbed her back in circles and said nothing.

"But then he found the prophecy and he kn-knew everything… I was going to… but that's so stupid now, I was so stupid to think he would… ever... Ron… I fucked everything up… I fucked everything up with him and he'll never trust a word I s-say…" The ragged hole was spilling out, and panic gripped her.

She pulled back, trying to twist away from him. "It's hopeless."

He furrowed his brow. "What is? The prophecy?"

She tried to speak, but her throat closed into a sob, and he pulled her in for another hug.

"You love him, probably, right? That's why you were going to tell him." He said quietly.

She couldn't speak so she just nodded, closing her eyes and laying her head against Ron's shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Ron asked after a long moment.

She took a few steadying breaths. "He… he said trying to t-trick him wouldn't w-work because he was n-never going to… to have feelings for me. He just wanted to f-fuck me."

He hugged her a little tighter. "He was just angry. I've seen the way he looks at you."

"He wasn't j-just angry Ron… He's r-right. I was t-trying to use him." She mumbled, the hole in her chest beginning to throb viscerally. "I'm so p-pathetic, Ron."

"You're not pathetic." He replied vehemently.

"Y-yes I am… I lost him because I was so pathetically afraid…" Hermione took in another ragged breath.

Ron pulled back before she could sink into another bout of self pity, "So what? You were supposed to know without having spoken to him for five years that you could spill everything to him?"

"He saved us, Ron. When Dobby came to get us from the manor, Malfoy had called him to get us out," Hermione said, trying to steady herself.

Ron's eyes widened. "Oh."

"He did it because I asked him to help us. She… Bellatrix, wanted to torture you next, and you had been with Bill at the safe house. I guess I was so out of it I was begging him to help us…" Hermione continued. "I didn't remember so he told me… well actually, Harry told me… and then he found out I'd been lying to him."

Ron seemed to be at a loss, mulling over the information with a wary look on his face.

Before he could answer, however, there was an insistent scratching at the kitchen window. Hermione and Ron looked at each other, and he shrugged incrementally.

She rose, grabbing a robe to pull on over Malfoy's crumpled shirt. She had had the awareness to shower over the last two days, but she found she couldn't bring herself to wash the fading smell of him out of the fabric. Perhaps she would need to send it back. Then again, he would probably just destroy it for the association.

She padded down the hall, Ron following closely behind her. It was hard not to crumple into self consciousness, but she supposed there was no going back now. She had never really collapsed like that in front of him, or anyone before. A little dignified crying, at war memorials and emotional events. But spilling out all of her ugliest fears made her feel small in front of him.

Then again, she felt fairly small in general right now.

Outside the window there were two large eagle owls carrying a large plainly wrapped parcel between them. She stepped warily into the room, but hesitated, even as one owl scratched a claw against the window furiously, wings flapping.

"It's probably from Harry or something. He's been worried, you know." Ron urged her forward with his assuring voice.

She crossed over and opened the window, letting in both owls, who promptly laid the parcel across her kitchen table. Wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with plain string, it didn't have any of Harry's hallmark sloppiness.

She shook the thought out of her head and reached over to the treat cannister on the top of her refrigerator, but the owls just took off without so much as a rest.

Her stomach sunk and she turned back to the table where Ron was quickly unwrapping the outer layer.

Inside was a deep burgundy box with a gold monogram stamped into it that she didn't recognize.

She swallowed a bubble of fear and reached out, feeling no heavy enchantments when she touched the lid of the box.

"Did you order something for the ball?" Ron asked.

"No, I was going to wear an old dress." She replied, still unable to open the box.

"So then what-" Ron cut himself off, eyes narrowing at the box as he made the realization.

"I'm afraid to open it."

Ron's face hardened. "If Malfoy is threatening you, 'Mione, I'll…"

"I… I don't think it's a threat. A threat implies that he might be holding back from an action." Hermione felt the smooth slip of the box under her fingertips.

"So then what is it, if you're so afraid of it?" Ron asked.

"A-action." She said quietly.

"You don't have to open it. If you don't trust the box he sends you, then you were bloody well right not to trust him with the whole prophecy." Ron began to gather up the broken edges of the paper.

"Ronald, I don't mean I'm afraid he's going to hex me or something. I just… I don't know how to face him. I don't know how to face anyone. I couldn't go to work because I just can't hold it together right now." She shook her head.

"Maybe he wants to hear you out," Ron said hopefully, although he had still stepped back as though spiders were about to spill out of the box unless she held it closed.

She snorted. "Yeah, and he also somehow found a spell to bring back the dead so that Sirius can give me away at the wedding. Yeah right, Ronald. Anything he has to say to me, it's not good."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Maybe it's a giant howler. We sell them at the shop, they unfold to the size of kitchen chairs. We'd better put up a soundproofing spell."

She smiled weakly as he waved his wand in the air briefly.

"Thanks, Ronald."

"Alright, give it a go, then." Ron said stalwartly, crossing his arms and standing back a little more.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and opened the lid. Inside was a second box, a black velvet jewelry box, sitting on a fold of black tissue paper covering whatever lay at the bottom of the box. She took in a breath and opened the little box.
Inside, laying innocently on a lining of creamy silk was the chain that she had seen Draco wear several weeks back at the manor, the woven links shining brightly. There was a folded note, and her fingers trembled as she took it.

Glancing up at Ron, who gave her a calming nod, she opened it.

You've proved yourself very adept at pretending. So, let's put on a show. See you at the ball, soulmate.

Malfoy had clearly written it in an agitated state, some letters had been pressed so deeply into the page that he'd nearly made holes in the paper. Her stomach sank, and she reached out to the sealed tissue paper and laid it aside. Inside was a dress in a silver-lavender color, the structured corset-style bodice peaking out of the top, and underneath she could glimpse the glossy, shimmering skirt. She pulled the dress out with a quiet shushing sound, marvelling as it glinted lavender and pewter as she moved it in the light.

"So he's… forgiven you, maybe?" Ron stepped forward and took the note. "Or… not?"

Hermione's fingers curled into the delicate material of the dress. "My money's on not."

Ron picked up the chain. "Shit… did you feel the enchantments on this? It must be in the metal."

"It's a protection charm, he told me about it-" She reached for it.

Ron held it back. "Protection from what?"

"I'm not sure, he said it was passed down to the women in his family when they… when they married into it…" Hermione pulled her hand back sharply at the memory.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

He laid it back in the box and then touched it gently with his wand in three places. A thread of deep aubergine magic threaded itself through the chain, knotting itself closely to the metal and then disappearing with a whisper of a sound.

Ron picked it back up and brought it to her, coming behind her to fasten it around her neck.

Hermione pulled her hair to the side with a lump in her throat. Draco wouldn't have sent it without a message in mind, but the only thing it could mean was more terrifying than she could have imagined. He was going through with the prophecy… because it came with the added benefit of punishing her for daring to think he would care for her.

"Now it will protect you from any physical harm… even from Malfoy." Ron said with finality.

"Thanks Ron." She hugged him. "Again, don't think he's going to hurt me. But thank you."

"Think of it as a little engagement gift." He hugged her tight. "You two will sort it out. Maybe it's just his turn to be nutters."

She smacked his arm. "I wasn't being nutters."

Ron rolled his eyes. "With all due respect, I can say this because I've seen it first hand: being vulnerable makes you nutters. It makes everyone nutters. But you can't give up."

She smirked. "Does Blaise make you nutters?"

"Constantly. Like you did," He grinned. "That's how I know it's the best kind of nutters."

She hugged him again. She was glad he came, and not Harry. She was glad he was on her side, more than anyone else. No one knew her like Ron did, and maybe no one ever would.

She wanted what he had with Blaise. They were only dating a few weeks… but maybe having to come out to your whole family to date someone made being honest with them easier.

She sniffed, tamping down on the panic. Draco had said he could never love her. She wasn't sure if she was strong enough to tell him that she loved him.

She reached up and fingered the chain. If only there was an enchantment to protect from emotional harm. She would have doused herself in it long ago.