Journal of Ronald Weasley

I went to St. Mungo's to see Hermione today, finally. After mom and dad both said that it wasn't safe for me to go out for two days straight! They treat me like I am such a little kid, when I am now taller than both of them! Anyway, they found Hermione two days ago and I went with Mom, dad, Fred and George to go and visit her. They said that she hadn't woken up yet, that something in her mind was keeping her from waking up.

Anyway, when I saw her I was totally shocked! She had been beaten up pretty badly by someone. She had a scratch across her cheek that must have been a lot worse the day before, bandages on a few of her fingers must have meant that one or two had been broken. She seemed so small and frail in the bed, like a child. Her face was pale as the sheets around her. And I felt as though my heart were breaking. It was really no secret how I felt about her and seeing her like that made me feel like I was dying inside.

We all stood there for a long time just watching her. It was me who finally broke the silence and said something. I moved to the side of her bed and picked up her hand that wasn't covered in bandages, not seeing then that I was in fact crying.

"Hermione?" it was all I said.

Not a second later her eyes opened and she sat up straight in the small hospital bed and screamed an ear splitting scream. There was a look of pure terror written over her face. I backed away almost instantly, crying out in alarm. Finally a nurse came in and said a word and she was asleep again.

Then I turned to my Dad and demanded to know exactly what happened to her and what they weren't telling me. I knew by the way my mom turned away from me that I had struck home, they were hiding something.

Later, standing outside of Hermione's room they told me how she had been kidnapped, beaten and raped by unknown death eaters. They would not tell me why they had picked her out of all the muggle - borns in the school, but some how, in the pit of my stomach I knew it had something to do with Harry.

All my life I have been hearing about him, Harry Potter, the hero who destroyed he-who-must-not-be-named when he was only a baby. The one that everyone is so in love with. Well, where was he when Hermione was getting raped? Where was he today at the hospital even?

Damn you Dumbledore, and Harry, this is both your fault.

Journal of Ronald Weasley

Hermione went home today, I was there with her when she woke and left the hospital. Her mom and dad were there though they both looked more stressed and upset than I have ever seen them before, and with good reason.

Hermione didn't talk much on the way to the burrow, where my parents had insisted they all stay for a few days until things quieted down. I took her too my room where she was going to be sleeping and there she finally sat and looked as though she wanted to talk. I moved over to her after placing her things down on my trunk careful not to touch her in anyway, which is what the witches at St. Mungos had told us all to do.

"'mione?" I called to her cautiously trying to look into her eyes.

"I….remember…everything." she said, her voice was horse and cracked a bit but when I asked if she needed something to drink she shook her head no.

"I can remember…when they took me…when they beat me…when he was …." She cut off and a soft sob came from her quivering lips, "I can remember every detail…except their faces!" she cried out looking up at me , our eyes meeting for the first time since she had been found. The deep brown shade of her eyes that once held such warmth and I had come to love now seemed slightly hallow and empty as if the light inside her had been extinguished.

Tears streamed freely down her cheeks and without warning she flung her arms around my neck and sobbed into my shoulder without restraint. "Oh, Ron! Please don't let them take me again!" she begged in a very desperate voice clinging to me as though I would vanish at any moment.

"I..I won't ever let them…" I promised after a moment, I tried to conceal the anger at who ever had done this two her but I guess she sensed it for she pulled back and stared into my face. "You…won't go trying to find them...will you?" she asked in an unsure tone, concern taking over her features. "Me? Find them? If it means leaving you behind, never." I swore, creating a small smile from her lips as she hugged me again.

We were like that for a long time before I heard her voice again.

"Ron? Where's Harry?"

When I didn't answer she pulled back, hands falling into her lap and watching me carefully.

"I…I don't know…" I answered honestly. "They won't tell me anything." I gestured my head towards the door, meaning my parents.

"Did he come to the hospital?" she asked in such a quite voice I nearly didn't hear her.

"No…no he didn't." I couldn't look at her, that hopeful tone in her voice nearly caused me to break into tears. For a fleeting moment I dreaded that she might have loved him as she began to sob quietly.

"I…hate him…." She said in-between sobs. "All of this…everything …has been for him. And he couldn't even…save me…he couldn't even be there for me. I…I thought we were his friends." Her voice shook with her words and I blinked in surprise at her as she cried.

Slowly I moved to my knees before her and took her hands in mine, looking up into her face.

"Hermione…I…" I didn't know what to say, I didn't want to tell her that I felt the same way; betrayed by our friend. "I..I love you…."

I didn't mean to say it; it just kind of slipped out. And I winced at myself looking away from her then, hoping she wasn't going to get mad or start crying because of me. But as I continued to not look at her I realized that her tears had stopped and when I finally got enough will power to look up at her I saw her watching me.

"Say it again…." She whispered.

I blinked, my eyes meeting hers and a hope filled smile spreading over my face, "I love you, Hermione." I squeezed her hand a bit and she looked down at our entwined fingers.

"Thank you." She said, a small final tear rolling down her cheek.

I don't know if she loves me or not, but at least she knows how I feel, and I know how she feels about Potter. I refuse to call him by his first name, first name are for friends. And friends don't leave their friend to die.