Tanku for the reviews! MaraWeaves, and the rest of you that wondered her question, you'll find out in this chapter. And they get together by neither of those ways.

About 2 weeks later, Hermione, Harry and Ron were in Transfiguration class. Hermione was sitting next to Ron while Harry was next to Neville. Ron and Harry's relationship had just gotten worse, but Hermione was speaking a few things to Harry once in a while. She hadn't explained anything like she had to Ron but she wasn't avoiding Harry either.

Neville glanced sideways at Harry who wasn't paying much attention at all to class. "You okay?" he asked out of the side of his mouth, which was a stupid question really. He hadn't been okay for nearly three weeks and seemed to be getting worse.

But he turned to him with a small smile that didn't reach his eyes and nodded. "Fine. That is, I'm fine." He made a face and turned back to staring at the desk.

Hermione was trying to pay attention and was doing a pretty good job until Dumbledore walked into the classroom, quieting McGonnagal.

He looked at Hermione and his eyes had no glitter of happiness and hope but a flicker of sadness. "Could you come with me?" he asked her.

Hermione gave a look to Ron and slowly stood; she wanted him to come but by the tone of Dumbledore's voice, he only wanted her. So slowly and slightly hesitantly, she followed Dumbledore out of the classroom.

Ron watched her go with a small frown and saw Harry's head jerk up sharply out of the corner of his eye.

He followed Hermione's progression before looking over at Ron with a question in his eyes.

Ron just shrugged to say he didn't know either. But he was worried. Nothing good seemed to come out of anything these days.

The minutes seemed to tick by like hours and after 20 minutes, Hermione still hadn't returned, but the bell signaling the end of class sounded.

"You're going to go talk to him, aren't you?" Neville asked Harry as they stood.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you later." He cornered Ron just outside of the room. "Any idea what happened?" he asked.

Ron looked at him with a slight frown but shook his head. "No, none."

There was what sounded like a small whimper, and hidden in the shadows of the windowsill, was Hermione. She was sitting on it, gazing out the window at the ground below.

They shared a look and rushed over to her.

"What happened?" Ron asked urgently.

"They're… they're dead. He… he killed my entire family. Everyone… even my cousins… uncles… grandparents… They're all dead…" she whispered so quietly that it was a strain to hear. Her eyes just stared emptily out at the grounds as she kept her emotions bottled up for once. She felt, with her constant crying fits and keeping them up at the middle of the night and now the huge fight, the least she could do would to keep her emotions bottled up deep inside of her and cause no worries. But it was hard and her distressed eyes showed it.

They didn't really have to question who the 'he' was. There was a certain way that Voldemort was referred to, and Harry recognized that tone immediately.

Ron took a moment longer, but after a look from Harry he realized who it was. "God, I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Nothing… to be sorry for," she said softly and went to stand. She was shaking slightly but still, no tears were in her eyes.

"It was my fault, wasn't it?" Harry asked softly, backing away slowly to lean against the wall. "Did Dumbledore say it was because you're… friends with me?"

After a few tense moments, she gave a small nod, knowing there was no other way to tell him, and started to walk away. She wanted to lie down in her bed and cry without anyone worrying.

Harry didn't stop her, just stood where he was, legs adamantly refusing to hold him up.

Ron was torn. He didn't know if he should be with Harry or Hermione, but Harry didn't even look at him so he turned to follow her, slipping his arm around her shoulders and giving her a comforting squeeze.

She pulled away from him suddenly, and stopped walking. "I'm fine… you don't have to act like I'm going to start crying. I'm not," she said quietly, and her voice was a tone of calmness.

Ron sighed. "Look, I'll be the first to say that I'm kind of glad that You-Know-Who got a hold of your family. I mean, my first reaction would be to start a party and not end it until we were all pissed off our asses and seeing triple." He grabbed her arm and stopped her, turning her so she could look at him. "But it's gotta be a bit… I dunno, weird? That this happened, you know?"

She looked him in the eyes. "He even killed my good relatives… the ones that actually would have done something if they had found out what my father was doing…" her voice was starting to break some.

"See?" he said. "Stop acting like you're okay because you think you're burdening us. You're not and it's not healthy to bottle everything inside."

"I'm fine!" she suddenly yelled. "You have no idea what I feel or think! You haven't been through what I have so you don't know what runs through my fucked up mind! You have no idea what it feels like to lay there day after day, wondering if the oncoming will be the day you are finally killed! You have no idea how it feels like to be hoping you're killed, but at the same time, dreaming that day after day, your FRIENDS would come and get you! You have no idea how it makes you feel to know, even though you haven't sent one letter, that they don't care enough to come see if you're fine! A DAMN PHONE CALL AND A FEW LETTERS DOESN'T DO MUCH WHEN YOU'RE BEING BEATEN AND ALMOST KILLED! You have no idea how it feels like to actually will yourself to come onto a train, ignoring every bit of humiliation you feel, in hopes of finding the people you care about more than LIFE BUT WHO DIDN'T EVEN CARE ENOUGH TO COME AND CHECK THAT I'M FINE! WHAT IF I HAD DIED!? YOU WOULDN'T HAVE DONE A DAMN THING EXCEPT FOR NOTICED I WASN'T AT SCHOOL! WHAT IF I HADN'T ESCAPED AND MY FATHER MADE UP SOME LIE!? YOU WOULD HAVE BELIEVED IT WHILE I WAS BEING KILLED EVER SO SLOWLY! You have no fucking clue how it is to have everybody you once trusted to turn around and hurt you! You don't know what it's like to hear your whole entire family is dead, ALL BECAUSE OF YOU! AND DAMN IT, BACK OFF WITH THE GOD DAMN STUDYING JOKES ABOUT ME! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW IT IS TO GO HOME YEAR AFTER YEAR TO HEAR YOUR PARENTS TELL YOU YOU COULD HAVE DONE BETTER! THAT'S ALL I HEARD! I COULD NEVER PLEASE THEM! AND NOW THIS, AND YOU PRETEND TO CARE! YOU DON'T HAVE ANY CLUE HOW IT FEELS! NONE OF IT! SO DON'T TRY AND THINK MAKING ME SAY EVERY THOUGHT ON MY MIND WILL MAKE ME FEEL BETTER BECAUSE IT JUST MAKES ME REMEMBER EVERYTHING AFTER I WORKED SO HARD TO FORGET IT!" Everything that had been built up in the past few months was escaping in the small moment and she couldn't stop it.

Ron stared at her for a moment and then shook his head. "You're right," he said. "You're right. I don't know. Is that what you want to hear? I don't know what it's like to be you and I don't know what it's like to go through what you have and I don't know what it's like to suffer when the closest I've come is having my dad attacked and then survive it. I'd take your pain if I could, but that's not good enough, is it? And that… that I understand. Because what good am I when the best I can do is watch you suffer and not know what it's like and not know how to handle it? All I can do is try and try isn't good enough, is it?"

Hermione glared at him, while shaking and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Everything was running through her head and it was all coming up that he hated her in the end. "T-That's it…" she whispered and quickly headed towards the GCR, while pulling up one of her sleeves.

He cursed and chased after her. "Don't!" he yelled, skirting around her and halting in front of her. "Don't," he said again.

She quickly walked around him, ignoring it. As she continued walking, she began to think over everything in the common room and in her room that was sharp. She wanted every image that was running through her head to stop and this was the only way she could think of.

He grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I said don't," he said, his voice almost a whimper. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled… I'm sorry about everything, God, I am so fucking sorry."

"I hate you," she whispered quietly. "I hate you for caring so much… I hate you so much… Y-you can't c-care that m-m-much…" she said as tears began to fall faster.

"Why can't I?" he asked. "Because you think you don't deserve it? You do, okay? You do."

"T-That… and b-because I w-w-want to f-forget… and I-I c-can't if s-someo-one c-cares…" she managed to say coherently, without letting the sobs mess up her voice too much.

"Well, I won't stop caring about you," he said. "So you'll have to figure out a way to forget with me around."

She collapsed to the ground, crying. Every memory was supposed to be forgotten, every problem, and yet there was one of the few good things in her life actually keeping her from that goal and she couldn't handle it.

He followed her to the floor, pulling her back against his chest and rocking her back and forth. He wasn't turning his back on her. Not again. Never again.

She continued sobbing and after many grueling moments involving her managing to lock her memories and problems up for the thousandth time, just so she could be sensible enough that she could actually manage sentences while looking mostly fine, the tears finally stopped.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, rubbing his hands over her arms soothingly.

"I want Harry here too…" she whispered quietly. "I want you two to be friends again. I want the problems I cause to go away…"

"Then we'll talk to him. I'll apologize and it'll be all right," he said. "D'you want to go look for him?"

She gave a small nod and slowly brought her sleeve back down. Pushing herself up on weak legs, her hand went up to wipe away any tears she had left remaining.

Ron stood and they made their way back down the hallway to where they'd left him by the window. The halls were empty with everyone at lunch, which Ron was happy about. He didn't want to field any questions. He'd already been in one shouting match, followed by Hermione's bout of crying, and this was going to be between the three of them and stay between the three of them.

She slowly walked next to him, determined to keep the rest of her emotions bottled up, though it was challenging. She had to keep repeating that nothing was wrong, that everything was fine. Still inside of her were tons of memories and the fresh fact that her family was dead. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice the statue that she almost walked into until Ron grabbed her arm and pulled her out of a painful path. With a blink then a sigh, she whispered, "Thanks."

He nodded. "No problem."

Finally they got back to the spot where they had last seen Harry, while Hermione ran a fingernail gently over her wrist, just hard enough to skin it slightly. She was hoping Ron didn't see, but couldn't stop herself for some reason. It was, somehow, making her memories leave and let her be in peace for once.

He hadn't moved from the spot. Well, he had. He was now on the floor, legs up to his chest, head to his knees and arms hugging his shins. He didn't seem to be moving at all and the sight of him made Ron's heart ache.

Hermione, for once having the tables turned on her, slowly sunk down next to him. "Harry?" she whispered, her voice almost breaking as she hesitantly put a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. Her heart was hurting by seeing him like this, and she wondered faintly if this was how Ron and Harry felt every time they saw her crying or something similar.

He hitched in a breath but didn't move otherwise.

Ron frowned slightly and went down on his knees in front of him. "Harry?" he asked hesitantly.

There was still no answer.

"Harry… I…" she trailed off and just continued to rub his back gently. Glancing at her wrist, she quickly grabbed the robe and twisted it so that some blood that was seeping through wasn't visible. She had no clue what to do and she was really worried about Harry.

He lifted his head slowly and used a shaking hand to push his bangs off of his forehead slightly. "Yeah?" he said in a dead voice, like he didn't really notice them or didn't really care.

"T-This is my fault…" she sighed. She hadn't thought over anything and hated herself for telling him that Dumbledore said it was his fault.

"Your fault?" Harry repeated in a choked voice. "This isn't your fault. It's my fault. It's… just… never mind. It doesn't matter I guess."

"It's not your fault Harry. Maybe they are d-dead because of me being so close to you but… it was my choice to be friends with you. And I'm still friends with you. I don't care what the consequences are, because I do love you more than life," she whispered. It held the same for Ron, but suddenly she noticed she admitted loving him and hoped beyond all hopes she didn't just screw something up.

He looked up at her and then at Ron who was nodding in agreement. He didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to tell her that he cared because this was the story of his life. People suffered because of him. He hated it. Hated his existence because of it and, really, wasn't Hermione better off it was just her and Ron? He'd gotten tired of himself back in fifth year, biting people's heads off over nothing, or what was something to him and nothing to them. Since then he'd been less outspoken, more introverted. His problems were just that: his problems. So instead of saying anything, least of all what he wanted to say, he just sighed and leaned his head forward again.

"Harry… please just talk to us. We can handle it," she whispered. "We're your friends. We want to help you through things… Please." In her voice was love and worry, but she knew from experience that it did help to say what they felt. Even if it did bring back memories, Ron and Harry had helped her through them and helped her realize that they were there for her and she only wanted to return the favor, but most of all, to show she did love him and the only way she could do it, that she knew of, was by helping him through this.

"Maybe you two should leave," he said softly.

"Don't even think that," Ron said angrily. "We're staying right here until you talk to us."

"Just talk to us," she said softly as her arms slipped around him in a gentle hug. "We're not going to leave until you do." One of her hands slowly moved up and sifted very gently through his hair in a comforting way that she hoped would help.

He let out a ragged breath. "I don't want to hurt you," he murmured. "You're better off with each other, far away from me."

Hermione could only let a small smile escape. "That's bullshit and you know it," she whispered with a bitter humor. She wasn't going to desert him. He hadn't taken the easy way out with Ron during their fight, and she wasn't going to take the easy way out. Since the end of their first year, she knew that she would rather die for them instead of being happy, and alive while either one of them were miserable or dead.

"Yeah," Ron added. "We aren't scared. We're your friends. Friends don't abandon each other when things get a bit hairy."

Harry snorted. "'A bit hairy'? Are you serious? You're telling me you'd both die for me? Because that's what'll happen if you stay with me. You'll suffer and you'll die."

Ron glanced over at Hermione and nodded slowly. "Yeah. We'll die for you. We'll suffer for you. And if we can, we'll die with you and suffer with you. But you've gotta let us in."

Harry just gave a dry sob and buried his face in his arms again.

Hermione watched him, running her hand through his hair still. "Harry, you and Ron are the only people I have anymore. You've done so much for me that I can't even explain it. Any moment of any day without even a second thought, I'd die the most horrible death just to know that you're safe. I'm your friend, and more… and I'm pretty sure that proves it. We want to help you but you have to let us in. I know it's hard but… please. Just tell us," she whispered softly into his ear in a comforting way.

He was fraying at the edges. He could feel his control slipping away and it was harder to breathe now. He didn't want to tell them. Push them away, push them away, pushthemaway, his mind was chanting. Save them. He wanted to. He wanted to have this but he wanted… he wanted so much.

"Harry, please," she whispered again. She wanted to yell that the only way for him to feel better was for him to tell them, and that she loved him enough to want to know everything he felt, but she knew it would make everything worse and knew it was just from her worrying. "I'm not going to leave you. Not even if you tell me you hate me. I love you and care for you too much. Please," she said almost desperately.

He let out another dry sob. "I'm scared," he said, voice breaking.

Hermione looked up at Ron for help. "Why?" she whispered softly. Her hand continued to sift through his hair gently but for some reason, it seemed like she was a bit too familiar with this because of the way her voice held care, love and no worry, even though it was clear she was beyond distressed, and the gentle moving of her hand through his hair while the other held his curled body close to her.

Ron waited for Harry to speak again, but he didn't. His body was shaking and Hermione kept looking at him. Finally he leaned forward, one hand around his neck, the other resting on his knee. He pressed his forehead against Harry's hair, Hermione's fingers centimeters away, and sighed, ruffling the dark strands. "Why, Harry? Why're you scared?"

It was strange the way one minute he was somewhat in control and the next the air in his lungs shuddered out, this time on a proper sob. His fingers sought and found the fabric of Ron's robes and clung to it, his head finding it's way to his shoulder. "I don't want to see either of you hurt," he managed to get out. "I don't want to see you suffer or die and know it's my fault. I don't want to lose you."

Hermione frowned. "Harry, either you can lose us now and you can never look at us again, let alone talk to us, or you can have a small chance of losing us later on. We can help you like we have before. We can get through everything together. Just believe us," she whispered softly and comfortingly. "I would rather have more memories, even if it means I die, then just never speaking to you again." She knew in the end, he was probably going to lose them one way or another but she wanted to be with him as long as possible, even if she had to die for it.

Ron nodded, his cheek moving against Harry's temple. "This is what I want. What we want. When we die, in a year or ten, we'll always have this and he can't take it away."

Hermione gave a small smile. "We care, Harry. We really do. I want as many memories of all of us together that I can have, and no one will ever stop that."

Harry couldn't speak. He wanted this and he didn't. He wanted to love them freely and in that moment he wished for things to be different. He felt them both, surrounding him and comforting him and giving themselves to him and he wanted to run. But he couldn't. He just bit his lip until it bled and clutched Ron closer and swallowed back the cries that lodged in the back of his throat and made his whole body ache.

Hermione's arms slowly moved to hug Harry and she looked up at Ron. Her breath was slightly ragged but she began to rub Harry's back again. "Let it out. Cry. It'll make you feel better in the long run," she whispered gently into Harry's ear, knowing it from great experience.

Harry's body shuddered between them, silent tears soaking the skin of Ron's neck but he didn't care.

He just held on tighter, murmuring to him. The words didn't make sense, but they seemed to help and after a few minutes Harry's sobs subsided.

Hermione just rubbed Harry's back softly still. She was trying to figure out why it felt so familiar, and then finally realized. With eyes going a bit empty, she willed her body not to show that she was starting to become upset. It was hard to tell so she was hoping that, beyond all hopes, Harry wouldn't notice.

Both Ron and Harry noticed her stiffen up.

"What is it?" Ron asked softly.

Hermione shot Ron a look that read for him not to ask. Harry couldn't find out… she couldn't let him. Not when he was like this. Eyes filled with emptiness, she continued to run her hand over his back.

Ron sighed and Harry straightened, pulling away.

"What is it?" he asked with a cautious frown.

Ron shrugged, not quite sure himself, and looked away.

He turned to Hermione. "Hermione? What is it?"

Hermione shook her head. "N-Nothing," she responded with her voice breaking slightly. "You okay?" she asked, wanting him to stop asking her.

"I…" he frowned. "No. Not if you aren't."

"I'm perfectly fine." She wasn't and her eyes were filled with emptiness but she wanted him to be fine..

Harry narrowed his eyes at her and stood up with a glare. "You aren't," he said softly, and angrily. "But apparently it's okay for you to deal with this on your own even if I can't. Which is just… bullshit." He rolled his eyes. "That's all that was. Pointless bullshit."

Hermione looked down. "It's just…" He was right. She was being a hypocrite but she wanted him to be fine, but now he was going to be mad at her. "It's just… I forgot about the only family m-member I cared a-about…"

His eyes softened and he sat back down slowly.

"Who was it?" Ron asked.

She let out a ragged breath. "M-My brother…" she was wishing she had told them now, as it seemed so hard.

"You had a… brother?" Harry said hesitantly.

"We never knew about him," Ron added.

"I didn't… I was embarrassed to tell you…" Quickly, she stood. "There. I'm fine n-now. I just h-have t-to…" she stopped to clear her throat some. "Rest," she finished, and the attempts to make her voice stop breaking failed as on that one word, it broke all together.

Ron and Harry both surged to their feet. "Nah, you aren't fine," Ron said as the boys wrapped their arms around her. "But it's okay to not be fine."

Hermione bit her lower lip then closed her eyes. "It's… he… he was going to turn five in two months…"

They all stood there, arms around each other drawing in harsh breaths and feeling the weight of the world, thought not for the first time.

"I'm so sorry," Harry groaned into someone's hair.

"It's not y-your f-fault…" she whispered as she tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"It is," he said. "But even if it wasn't I'd still be sorry."

Ron laughed, the sound without any true happiness. "This is all just royally fucked up isn't it?"

Hermione didn't respond, but just fought with herself not to cry.

"Thought you told me it was okay to cry," Harry said into her ear.

With those simple words, she began to cry into the nearest neck she could find, which happened to be Harry's. Her legs felt about ready to collapse on her but she tried not to fall.

It was about that time that Ron realized that they were standing in the middle of a hallway and lunch was probably close to ending. "Maybe we should leave," he suggested quietly into Harry's ear.

"When she's feeling better," he replied, just as softly.

She continued crying for a few minutes, mumbling words that made no sense or that were hard to hear. Finally, the tears slowed but didn't stop and she stepped away from them. "I w-want to go b-back to the c-common r-r-room…" she whispered as the tears continued to drop.

"Okay," Ron said gently. "Let's go."

Hope you guys didn't mind that whole entire 'I have a brother' thing but… yeah okay. Well, the story is really getting good and I have LOTS more. Like another 5 chapters worth that I just have to put into story form and probably will have more soon. Hope ya'll like and REVIEW!

And sorry… it seemed sort of rushed. Maybe it didn't seem that way to you but it did to me. .