Author's Note: SO sorry it took so long to upload this. I was vacationing for a few days and couldn't write. I hope you guys enjoy the story and please review! I really really really appreciate it!

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No one was in the common room since it was about three in the morning, but luckily the fire was still burning. Hermione sat on the couch in front on the fire, crossing her legs so they fit neatly onto the couch seat. Ron sat down next to her about six inches away, giving her space.

She stared blankly into the fire, debating whether or not she should tell him everything that had happened to her. When giving the report to Dumbledore after her rescue, she tried to give as sterile an account as possible to shield Ron from the pain, fear, and desperation of her experience. Harry understood what truly happened to Hermione, underneath her emotionless recount, but Ron had no idea. For a long time she wanted it to protect Ron from it all, but now she wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing.

Ron sat in front of the fire with Hermione, looking at her attentively. He was shocked that she had come into his room in the middle of the night, it was completely uncharacteristic of her. Now he worried that she was going to bottle up her emotions once again and lie to him about why she went to his room. Though the trio tried to ignore it, Ron and Harry knew that Hermione kept her feelings from them even more so these past five weeks.

He must have sat there for five minutes, waiting for Hermione to talk to him. Her expression looked blank, as though she were hypnotized. She seemed to completely forget that he was sitting next to her. He turned his body towards her, "Hermione?" he asked gently.

She turned her head towards him, sorrow in her eyes.

"Hermione, what is it?" he needed to know, but he didn't want to suffocate her and scare her into not telling him.

"I...I really don't think you want to know, Ron," she replied quietly, turning her head back to the fire.

Ron was completely frustrated. He played that game for five weeks now, ignoring what happened and going on with life as if everything were perfectly normal, but they were all lying to themselves. "Damn it, Hermione!" Ron got off the couch and paced back and forth across the fireplace. "I'm sick of this! I'm not some little boy who needs protection from you and Harry and whoever else. For the past five weeks I've pretended that everything is fine, but I know there's something that you and Harry are hiding from me and I don't want to be left out anymore. That is not what best friends do!" he finished rather loudly, facing her. The instant he finished ranting to her, he regretted it. Now she won't tell you what's bothering her, you stupid prat, he thought.

Ron sighed and sat back down next to Hermione. "Look, Hermione," he said in a calmer tone, "I'm sorry about what I just said. It's just that..."

"I had no idea you felt that way," Hermione interrupted. She looked at him again and then quickly to the piece of couch that separated them. She felt guilty and stupid, thinking that by avoiding the subject, it would magically go away and their friendships would return to normal. "Harry and I aren't hiding anything from you to keep you out of our lives, that's not it. It's just that what happened to us is something that I hope and pray never happens to you," she explained. Flashes of her nightmare came to her and she flinched.

Ron saw and asked, "Hermione, what's wrong?"

She looked towards the fire again, struggling to find the right words to describe everything to him. She didn't want to face what happened, but she was fooling herself if she said she was doing fine by ignoring the problem.

"I haven't been sleeping well ever since my birthday. Well, actually, the night in the Hospital Wing that you stayed I slept fine, but that was it," she paused and smiled slightly, remembering Ron sleeping next to her bed. She looked at him again and his eyes looked distant, as though he was remembering something as well. He returned her gaze and smiled, urging her to continue. "I've been having dreams every night. I can never remember what they're about, but I know they're bad. I wake up in a cold sweat and I can't go back to sleep afterwards. All I remember about the dreams is that I'm scared, no, petrified. But that's it. Well, until tonight. I remembered my dream tonight. I was in this dungeon and Voldemort was there and I thought we were alone. He kept on asking me questions about Harry, and I told him that I wouldn't answer, but then I saw..." she hesitated, feeling tears on the rim of her eyes, "I saw you. He hurt you so badly and he threatened to hurt you more. I didn't know what to do, I didn't want him to hurt you anymore, but I didn't want him to hurt Harry and I was thinking but then he told me that I was taking too long and then he put the Cruciatus Curse on you and I wanted to die because you looked like you were in such pain and then..." she broke down. She had never cried about what happened to her and the affects it had on her, she wouldn't let herself cry. But she couldn't hold it in any longer. Angry at herself for allowing Voldemort to have so much power over her even after leaving his presence, she cried.

Ron was shocked at her story and he froze for a second when he saw her start to cry. She never cried, well, not never, but rarely. And this was different, this was on the verge of hysterical crying. He shifted uncomfortably towards her and embraced her convulsing body awkwardly. She didn't fight him off with her pride but rather hugged him back. She put her arms around his neck and cried onto white pajama t-shirt. Holding her around the waist, he stroked her back while rocking her gently. He didn't know what to say to help her, he felt so inadequate for this situation. He let her cry everything out, completely soaking the right side of his shirt. Ron tried to find something appropriate to say to her, but everything he thought of saying were clichéd expressions and he doubted Hermione would appreciate them. He finally whispered, "Thank you for trusting me," which seemed nice from his perspective, but it made Hermione cry harder and he scolded himself once again. He didn't know how long she cried, but he guessed it was a long time because his back was aching from having to support himself and her weight while rocking her.

Hermione let everything out. All the feelings she kept inside of her for the past five weeks were out. The fear, anger, guilt, hatred, anguish, relief, thankfulness, love, everything poured out of her eyes and onto Ron's shirt. In the back of her mind she hoped that he didn't think she was weak, but that feeling was put to rest when he stroked her back. He was so gentle it scared her, considering, up until very recently, this was the boy who constantly teased her and whom she got into full blown shouting contests with. When she heard Ron's 'thank you' she could believe how wonderful he was being and cried harder with regret for not letting him know sooner. When her tears subsided to occasional hiccups she lifted her head from Ron's wet shoulder as said, "Thanks, I really needed to let that out."

"You're welcome, Hermione. I'm sorry that you kept that inside for so long," Ron replied.

Ron thought she looked like an absolute mess. Her nose was red, her eyes were red, and her cheeks, especially her left one which had rested against his shoulder were red. But then again, he also thought she looked even more beautiful because her trust in him made her all the more special.

He shifted away from her, leaning against the other side of the couch to support his aching back. She looked surprised and he realized that she thought he was moving away from her. "Oh, no, I'm not moving away from you. My back just hurts a little," he said, embarrassed. He reached out his hand for hers and pulled her towards him. She sat facing him, her profile to the fire. He looked straight into her eyes, wiping away a few tears off her chin.

After a few moments of silence, only interrupted by the occasional sniffle from Hermione, Ron asked, "What happened in your dream? After the Cruciatus Curse?"

Hermione looked up at him. "Oh, well, I woke up. I tried going back to bed, but I kept on thinking that you were hurt. I had to make sure that you were alright, which is why I went to your room. I'm sorry that I woke you up, it was silly, really," Hermione answered.

"Don't worry about that. I'm glad that you did. But Hermione, I want you to know, that if anything like that were to happen in the future, pick Harry."

"But, Ron, I can't just leave you there!"

A sad smile crossed Ron's lips. "Now you kinda know what I felt when you told me to get Harry back to Hogwarts and leave you behind," he replied.

Hermione froze, realizing he was absolutely right. She had put him in a terrible position that day. She realized that he still felt guilty about leaving her. "Ron, I'm sorry, I never thought about it that way. But don't feel guilty, I don't blame you at all."

"Oh, I understand that, but the it's aftermath and here I am, completely clueless."

"I hope it stays that way. You don't want to feel what it's like, Ron," Hermione said. She shifted uncomfortably at the memories.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She thought about how she could ever describe what it felt like to be in the presence of Voldemort. Ron mistook this for not wanting to talk about it. "It's alright, you don't have to talk about it," he said.

"Knives," Hermione said abruptly, looking towards the fire.

"What?"

"Knives. The Cruciatus Curse feels like knives stabbing your body, completely covered it. No matter how much you move or how much you scream, the pain is still there. So much so that you want to die, just to escape the pain. You wait and wait for death to come, but it doesn't and the pain doesn't end until Voldemort wants it to. And when that's over you realize that you're just as screwed being with Voldemort as you were under the Cruciatus Curse. So many regrets fly through your mind when you face certain death. You think about you're family and how they would react when they learn what happened to you, you think about your friends and all the memories you've shared, knowing they're won't be anymore. You realize that there are so many things you wanted to tell them, show them, before this and it makes you feel so guilty because you know that you'll never see your friends again. Then the Imperius Curse, it's so relieving. You feel like you're floating away from the pain, and it lures you to answer the questions Voldemort asks, making you think that everything would end if you just answer the question. It's so tempting, but you know that you cannot answer the question, so you experience more pain as punishment. It's this vicious cycle. Eventually, you faint from pain and exhaustion." She said it, she told him all of the feelings she experienced when she was with Voldemort.

Ron's mouth dropped open at the end of her recount. He gulped. This was totally different from what she had told Dumbledore, Harry, and him at the Hospital Wing. That recount was like a report, but this...this was so much more intense. He still could not grasp the severity of the whole situation, but he did have a better idea now. He felt so bad, his chest hurt.

Hermione looked back to Ron and then away while he thought about what she said. It felt like a big weight had been lifted off her chest because she finally shared she story with someone. She hoped Ron wouldn't pity her, she didn't need that from him.