A/N: Hi so this is another installment of this story. I hope you enjoy.

IMPORTANT: This chapter is slightly different, it will focus more on Ron's feelings and his internal struggles.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights to J.K. Rowling

Chapter Two: Turmoil

A sharp pain awoke Ron from his peaceful slumber, his eyes opened, quickly shutting again as they suddenly focused on the bright light shining just above him. He twisted his body to sit up straight, suddenly becoming aware of the awkward angle he had been laying down in on the large logs outside the tent. The campfire had long been distinguished with a few crackles filling the night air as the bright light in front of him slowly dimmed. He felt a body nudge him slightly again in the ribs, making him turn cautiously to the side, his eyes widening as he noticed Hermione sitting next to him, the flashlight now by her side, her eyes trailing his facial features.

He felt a slight pang of anguish in his heart as he studied her face, her beautiful eyes shone in the darkness, a much kinder and soft hint behind them, nothing compared to the anger and fire he saw the day he returned. He faced the dying campfire once again, his arms thrown above his head as he stretched, his mind whirling as he wondered why he had been woken. His first instinct was to go back inside and leave her be, but she hadn't told him to leave, so maybe she didn't mind his company at this moment. None the less, he gave her another pained smile before nodding to himself and started to make his way back into the tent. He could feel Hermione's eyes burning into the back of his head as he entered the tent, his face and neck flushed as he focused on his footsteps instead. As he pushed open the flap of the tent, he spotted Harry sitting on Hermione's bed, reading what looked like one of her prized books. A voice in the back of his head raged in anger, telling him to go over to Harry and snatch the book right out of his hands, but he didn't. He didn't have a right to. Harry was the only one who could handle Hermione's possessions without permission. After all, they were together, weren't they?

Rolling his eyes at his own self-deprecating thoughts, Ron casually made his way over to his best mate, hoping to give off a less standoffish impression. Harry quickly gazed up at the approaching figure, noting the pained expression on Ron's face. As Ron stopped a mere metre away, he pondered just turning back and going to bed, unable to stand looking at Harry's face anymore than he had to.

"I think Hermione might want your company," Ron began, swallowing the lump beginning to form in his throat, "She looks cold, and I think…you know…it would be good for her to have you there with her as you're…yeah," He trailed off, looking off into space behind Harry's left shoulder. It was uncomfortable enough to be around Hermione, the woman he wanted but could never have, but he was surprised when being around Harry felt even more uncomfortable. He'd get used to it, maybe this was how it was supposed to be after all. Maybe this is what the universe wanted. Harry and Hermione and then Ron as an extra thought. With a small shrug, Ron turned and headed over to his bunk, the heavy weight he had felt before beginning to creep back onto his shoulders, the misery, the helplessness. What was a man to do?

But another voice in his head told him to stop complaining. Ron felt his hands clench into fists as he settled down for bed, wondering where everything had gone wrong. What had he done to deserve such a shit life? Granted, he had made mistakes, but didn't everyone? He wasn't perfect, but surely, he deserved to have a decent shot at life like everyone else did. He cringed as he thought about the future, a future without being able to hold Hermione, tell her how he felt, have a chance of loving her till they both grew old. No, he wouldn't have any of that, there wasn't a chance in hell of that ever happening. He looked down at his grubby clothes, his eyebrows frowning as he smoothed some dirt off his jacket. His fingertips drifted along the woolly material of his jumper, a small reminder of the life he had left behind, one that he felt special in. Maybe his mum still loved him, maybe once he saw them again, he could find solace in his family. They would still see him for him, wouldn't they?

Even without the influence of the locket, Ron felt his mind clouded with self-doubts and insecurities, still eating away at his self-esteem. He felt lost in his own world, no one to turn to, even his best friends. He sighed as he thought about the woman sat outside. A woman so important, he would never let anyone hurt her, it didn't matter how she felt about him, he would put his life on the line to make sure she survived. She had to, that wasn't an option, she deserved to be happy, to live the life she dreams of, to have the man she wants. As Ron shut his eyes, he felt hot tears drip down his face as he fell into another deeply uncomfortable sleep.

The morning mist covered the overgrown forest, the trees hidden amongst the white fog as the brown leaves floated gently onto the roof of the tent. A calm eeriness put Ron at peace as he sat at the campfire, processing his thoughts once again. His eyes landed on a shadow not too far away, slightly swaying amongst the shrubbery and undergrowth. His breath hitched as a bad inkling crossed his mind as he reached slowly into his back pocket, his wand already poking out of his jeans, ribbed and tattered from the tough terrain. His eyes darted towards another similar shadow on the opposite side of the forest, an equal distance from the first one he'd spotted. He felt his heartbeat race faster as he noticed the two shadows slowly approaching him, his grip now firm on his wand. Sweat began to drip down his face as the two shadows edged ever closer to the protective barrier.

"Ron?".

Ron gasped in a panic as his eyes and wand immediately landed on the entrance of the tent. Harry threw his hands in the air as Ron lowered his wand and swung his head round to look at the shadows once again, but they had both disappeared. Feeling suddenly nauseous, Ron bolted past Harry and ribbed open the flap to the bathroom before dropping to his knees and emptying his stomach into the toilet basin. He heard a horrified gasp behind him. Almost immediately, A pair of small cool hands surrounded his own, gripping them as his hands started turning white from his grip on the toilet. He immediately relaxed slightly as he melted into Hermione's embrace, her body holding his as he shook. He didn't know what happened, he had felt at peace, happy, but now he felt scared, sad, everything.

"It's okay, just breathe Ronald," Hermione shushed him as he shakily stood up and leaned over the sink, his eyes drifting to the small mirror in his eye level, taking in the ghostly pale face staring back at him. He felt Hermione let go of him and noticed her flushing the toilet before she picked out a blue flannel. She stepped towards him and ran the flannel under the tap before placing the cool material onto his forehead, gently pressing it into his skin.

"What's wrong?" She whispered as she continued to dab his forehead with the flannel.

"I...I saw something, I think, I dunno, I just," He couldn't string his sentence together so he dipped his head in embarrassment and took a sip of water from a small cup beside him to calm himself.

"What did you see?" He heard her whisper as she flipped the flannel on to its other side and placed the cooler side back onto his forehead.

What did he see? Ron felt stupid, once again, for not making sense to her. His mind whirled as he desperately tried to understand what he had seen. Did he just imagine it?

"I thought I saw a shadow or something, but I saw Harry and then when I looked back, they had disappeared," His voice failed at the end, realising how dumb this must all sound to her.

She said nothing but merely nodded before turning her head to look out of the flap to the bathroom. She took his hand and placed it on the flannel still pressing on his forehead.

"Keep it on there for a while and you'll feel better, when it doesn't feel cool, just re-wet it and ring it out a little, Harry needs me," Her voice almost immediately changed from one of comfort to one of formality, feeling like a slap in the face. Without looking at him again, Hermione exited the bathroom and made her way back into the main area of the tent. Ron gritted his teeth in resentment. Of course, the chosen one was more important. Ron felt his heart shatter as he held on to the moment where she had touched his hand, something so small and insignificant to her, but meant the world to him. He felt his sorrow begin to fill his mind as he longed to drag her back to him and hold her close. Her touch felt like a cure to him, something more powerful than any medicine, something so irreplaceable.

But at the end of the day, he had no choice but to accept their circumstances.

No. A voice in his head told him.

You do NOT give up and you certainly do NOT give up on HER.

With the flannel discarded on the sink basin, he pushed open the bathroom flap and re-entered the tent, a new goal now forming in his mind as he took one last glance at her gorgeous figure and headed to bed.

"He told me he saw some shadows of some kind," Hermione whispered as she sat across from Harry at the old wooden table. She nervously glanced over at the small bunk containing Ron, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he peacefully slept.

Harry scanned another book from Hermione's bag, seemingly ignoring anything she said as he flipped aimlessly through the endless pages of meaningless words, words of wisdom, but none of interest. He sighed in frustration as he passed the book to her before grabbing another, hating the idea of resorting to literature over practical measures.

He knew Ron's claims were ones to be taken seriously but there was no doubt that there needed to be some reasonable explanation.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him as he ignored her once again. She knew she wasn't being fair but her agitation towards Harry's carelessness was becoming too much.

"I think we should check the perimeter of the tent, just in case, there could be death eaters out there Harry, we can't detect them all," She continued, hoping to at least capture Harry's attention by sounding resourceful. As Harry ignored her once again, she huffed and headed towards the tent, her wand securely grasped in her hand. Her boots crunched loudly in the snow as she headed towards the barrier, her eyes darting across the forest plain, jumping slightly as a rabbit bustled through the long grass, jumping into a nearby hedge as she began to walk around the perimeter.

A crunch behind her, however, told her she was not alone.

A/N: Thank you for reading this second chapter, Please be kind in reviews and please follow and favorite to stay up to date with this story.

A/N: Chapter three will be asap as well as update on "Little Dove" and "Insomnia", thanks :)