A/N: First off, thank you for all those reviews last chapter! I think that's the most I've had in a single chapter for this story yet. Secondly, sorry for the time lag in updates. Real life has been kind of insane lately, which means fan fiction was put on hold – I hate when real life gets in the way! I hope now I can go back to regular updates once a week.

CHAPTER TWELVE: Casualties Of War

It was late and Hermione sat alone in the common room reading ahead in her Ancient Runes text. On a regular night, she would have been in bed already, curled up with a book, but she had been spending so much time alone lately any kind of contact with her fellow Gryffindors was appreciated. Ginny sometimes sat with her and kept her company, but it wasn't the same as having her two best friends by her side.

She and Ron had spoken a grand total of two words to each other since that day when she had tried to patch things up with him on the Quidditch pitch. In the two weeks since the trip to Hogsmeade her relationship with Harry wasn't fairing much better. Professor Snape was quite pleased to see the 'dream team' finally split up, and frequently made comments about it much to the delight of the Slytherins.

If she was honest with herself the main reason she was still up was she was hoping Ron would finally want to talk. She didn't know what made her think this night would be different from any of the others, but she had to hope. Every so often she would casually look up from her book and glance in the direction of where he sat by the fire, playing a game of exploding snap with Seamus. He never looked back at her.

She knew she was largely to blame for the state they were in, but if Ron couldn't see that she wanted to be with him – and only him – then he could go on and keep giving her the silent treatment. Of course she didn't really mean that. It felt horrible not being able to talk to him. They hadn't been stuck in a row this bad since third year when he had accused her cat of eating his pet Scabbers. This was at least ten times worse than that. At least then she had had Harry to talk to, but she didn't even have him now. She missed him too.

She looked up when she heard murmurs of surprise around her. Professor McGonagall had entered the common room, and though Hermione was sure their Head of House was going to reprimand them for being up when they had classes in the morning, she did nothing of the sort. When McGonagall caught sight of her, she ignored the rest of the students and walked over.

"Miss Granger, I need to speak with you outside for a moment," said McGonagall, her voice grave.

Hermione mentally scolded herself for not having yet prepared her prefect report for the week, which was due tomorrow. She had been neglecting her prefect duties somewhat since she and Ron had stopped talking. "I'll have my prefect report ready for you tomorrow morning," Hermione told her. "I have one final incident to write up about three Hufflepuff fourth years setting off water balloons on the fourth floor."

"Thank you, Miss Granger, but that's not why I'm here. I need to speak with you of something of a more urgent nature."

Hermione looked over and could see Ron listening in. He looked at her a moment, his expression revealed nothing, before turning back to his game. Wordlessly, Hermione followed her professor out into the corridor. McGonagall didn't speak right away, and Hermione was beginning to wonder what the urgent matter was. It looked like her professor was considering her next words very carefully.

"There was a Death Eater raid on several small wizarding villages tonight," McGonagall began slowly. "One of them was where your parents were being hidden."

Hermione felt her heart stop in her chest and the air in her lungs literally disappear. She managed to speak, but only just. "But they're all right?" A small voice in the back of her mind told her that of course they were. The Order had seen to it that her parents would be in a remote but safe part of the country. But the much louder and more rational part of her brain told her the news would be bad. McGonagall wouldn't have pulled her out of the common room if it wasn't. She could see how hard her professor was working to keep her face passive.

"Your father took a curse to the chest at close range and has some other minor injuries. He was still unconscious when he arrived at St. Mungo's."

She was able to breathe again. Her father was hurt but at least he was alive. "My mum?"

No longer was McGonagall able to keep the same neutral expression. Tears actually seemed to be forming behind her spectacles. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. When the Aurors arrived there was nothing they could do for her."

Hermione had leaned back against the wall for support before she even realized what she was doing. She didn't want to believe the Headmistress. Moody had promised her parents would be safe. How could the first news she had on them in nearly two months be this?

"Hermione?" Ron stood just outside the portrait hole, his voice had a quietness to it that showed he knew something serious had happened.

"Mr. Weasley, you should head back inside," McGonagall said to him in a gentle but stern voice.

Ron didn't move. Whatever news McGonagall had given Hermione it was bad. She looked to be in a state of numb shock. "Hermione?" He would leave, but only if she wanted him to. She didn't react to his presence until he was standing at her side. She didn't say anything, but she reached out and gripped his hand tightly. It felt cold and small in his big one.

When McGonagall seemed to accept his presence she spoke again. "I've got to speak with Albus about transportation arrangements. We'll be ready to leave within the hour. Will you be all right with Mr. Weasley until I come back for you?"

Hermione nodded distantly, and McGonagall gave her one last sympathetic glance before marching swiftly in the opposite direction, leaving the two teenagers alone.

"Hermione, what happened?" Ron asked, pulling her close to him, and she clung to him as if for dear life. Even wrapped in his arms she was shaking horribly.

"My parents. There was an attack," she said, unable to form a complete thought.

"Where are they now?" He asked gently.

"They took my dad to St. Mungo's."

"What about your mum?" He felt her grip of him slacken and when she looked up at him he saw the answer written in her eyes. "God, Hermione, I'm so sorry." He kissed her forehead and pulled her close to him again. He expected to hear her crying softly or sobbing loudly, but she was silent in his arms. It wretched his heart to see her like this. He would have done anything at that moment if he thought it would lessen her pain. But the harsh reality was that there was nothing he could do except hold her.

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies was a lot busier then it should have been at two in the morning. The wizarding hospital normally ran on a skeleton crew of Healers and orderlies after midnight, but not on that night. Anyone and everyone who was available had been called in to help out. Though the hospital was of impressive size, due to the sheer volume of victims that had been brought in having sustained injuries of varying degrees from the surprise Death Eater attacks, beds were in short supply, not to mention the medical staff even with the extra hands that had come in. The halls were filled with the sounds of orderlies barking orders and victims moaning in agony.

The simple task of trying to find a Healer to give you an update on a patient's condition was next to impossible, and Ron was growing extremely frustrated with the evasive answers he would receive when he finally cornered one long enough to talk to him. No one would tell him anything of any real importance except that Hermione's father remained in the same state. Hermione wasn't even allowed into see him. Eventually, Lupin, who had accompanied them on the trip over, had decided they had been patient enough and left in search of the Healer who had been put in charge of Mr. Granger.

Ron, who felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin if they didn't hear something soon, could only imagine what Hermione must be going through. He had briefly considered pacing to relieve some of the tension in his body, but quickly dismissed the idea because he knew it wasn't going to help anything. He stayed with Hermione the whole time, trying anything he could think of to comfort her. He held her hand, stroked her hair, and would occasionally ask if she needed anything, but to him it didn't feel like he was doing enough. She had just lost her mum and the diagnosis of her dad remained unknown, and telling her it was going to be all right didn't seem like it was enough at all.

Hermione didn't say much at all, and if Ron didn't know better he'd say she was still in a state of semi shock. She hadn't broken down once since McGonagall had given her the news – and it was going on three hours now. Even though he knew Hermione to be a strong and capable woman, he was worried about her. It seemed like a part of her had just shut down. He figured if their roles were reversed he would have been the same, except he would be prone to violent outbursts and breaking things.

He looked up when he felt Hermione move out from under his arm. Lupin was approaching them and with him he had a tall balding man, who wore the lime green robes of a Healer. Hermione stood up and Ron got to his feet as well to stand with her.

"Hermione, this is Doctor Freeland," Lupin introduced. "He's looking after your father."

"How is he?" She asked immediately, by passing any further introductions.

"He's still unconscious, but we were able to get a Healer who specializes in magical curses to determine the extent of his injuries," Freeland said. "Compared to a lot of the injured we've treated here tonight, near as we can tell his condition is by far one of the best."

"Can I see him?"

"It's best if we leave the Healer undisturbed to do her work, and afterwards depending on what she finds we'll probably have several tests to run on your father. I know you don't want to hear this but the best thing you can do right now is get some rest and come back in the morning. We'll know more by then."

Hermione wanted to argue, but Lupin stepped in. "Thank you, Doctor. We'll let you get back to your other patients now."

Freeland gave her a sympathetic smile – one of many she had received that night and was already starting to hate – before turning to leave. But there was one more thing she had to know. "What about my mother? What happened to her?" She felt Ron go stiff beside her as she asked it.

Lupin regarded her carefully. "Hermione, maybe – "

"Professor, I need to know," she cut in sharply.

Lupin looked like he still disagreed with her, but he respected her decision and didn't try to dissuade her further.

Doctor Freeland exchanged a quick look with Lupin, who nodded his consent, which only served to irritate her further. It was her mother who was dead and she had every right to know how it had happened. She wasn't a child incapable of handling the truth.

Freeland faced her again, saying, "by the time the Aurors arrived on the scene, she was already dead."

"What was it?" She said, her voice small. She felt Ron place a supportive hand on the small of her back.

"From what the Aurors described, it looks like she was put through the Cruciatus before they used the killing curse on her."

She had her answer now. Her mother had suffered horribly before they finally killed her. She pictured the scene in her mind. A gang of Death Eaters surrounding her mother, taking turns throwing the Cruciatus at her, laughing as she withered in pain, before one of them flicked their wand and put an end to it. It was enough to make her want to vomit.

Lupin thanked the doctor again and then he left, leaving the three of them alone. Hermione didn't want to leave, even with the knowledge that there was nothing she could do for her father. They weren't even going to allow her in to see him until the Healer was done.

She wasn't even aware she was walking away from her father's room, until they were almost halfway down the corridor. Catching the port key that would send them to a small room at the Three Broomsticks and then making the short trek back to Hogwarts, seemed such a blur she wasn't even sure it had really happened.

Lupin left them both at the portrait of the fat lady, telling Hermione they could go back to St. Mungo's after breakfast. She barely heard a word that left his mouth. If it wasn't for Ron she never would have made it back in to Gryffindor Tower, her brain barely functioning as it was, she couldn't even recall what the password was, even when they had been using it for two weeks and had remembered it clearly every time before then.

When they walked in the common room they found Harry nodding off in an armchair, while Ginny was curled up under a blanket on the couch. The two of them were awake instantly at the sound of the portrait hole opening.

Ginny made it to Hermione first and embraced her tightly. "How is he?" She asked, after she pulled away.

Hermione gave a small shrug. "He's stable but they don't know much more than that at the moment. There's a Healer in with him right now."

Harry hugged her next, and she was thrown by the fierceness of the embrace. He didn't say anything, but when he pulled away one look at him told her everything he couldn't express. He was the only person who could have some idea of what she was going through.

"I think I'm going to head up to bed," she told her friends. She didn't feel like she could sleep at all but she didn't want to be surrounded by anyone, except for maybe Ron.

It was Ron who silently followed her upstairs. When they reached the closed door of her dorm, she didn't try to stop him from coming inside. Her dorm mates were fast asleep and even if they had been awake, she wouldn't have cared about what they would say about Ron's presence. She slipped under the covers of her bed without even bothering to change. Ron sat down on the side of her bed and started playing with the fabric of her comforter.

"I'll go back with you tomorrow, if you want me to," he said.

She nodded her against the pillow. She wasn't sure she would be able to take the constant waiting and uncertainty if he wasn't there with her.

She felt the weight of the mattress shift then as Ron took up a position beside her on top of the covers of the bed. At first he didn't move. He didn't want her to think he was some kind of sick bastard who was using her mum's death as a way to get into bed with her. When she didn't protest him being there, he pressed a kiss to the back of her head and pulled her as close to him as he could from where he laid on top of the covers. He didn't know if he was helping or not, but he knew he couldn't just leave her there alone. And he didn't think she wanted him to leave either.

It was mid afternoon when Harry was finally able to join Ron and Hermione at the hospital. Ron, just as Hermione had been, was granted permission by McGonagall to miss his classes for the day and go with her back to St. Mungo's.

Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks had accompanied him from Hogwarts at Dumbledore's request. Though the last thing Harry wanted was a set of bodyguards, for once he didn't argue. If that was the only way he was going to be allowed into St. Mungo's then so be it.

At the reception area, Moody had asked where Mr. Granger's room was, and the nurse there had directed them up two floors to where the curse wing was located. Every patient on that floor had suffered an injury with regards to dark magic curses. Harry found Ron easily, sitting on a chair outside one of the rooms. They nodded to each other in greeting. Ron looked like he hadn't slept for more than a few hours the previous night.

"You came alone?" Ron asked surprised.

Harry shook his head. "Tonks and Moody came with me. They're down the hall talking to a couple of Aurors."

"I noticed them earlier when they walked by," Ron said. "Since when do Aurors get posted at St. Mungo's?"

"Maybe Fudge is trying to make up for his earlier mistakes, or things have gotten a lot worse than we know." Not for the first time Harry wished he would be allowed to know what was going on in the Order. He had every right to know what was going on, when he was as much a part of this war – maybe even more so than everyone else. "How long has she been in there?"

Ron shrugged and glanced at his watch. "An hour, maybe. Every so often the Healer comes around to check his vitals and then she comes out."

"Do they know what's wrong with him?"

"He's got a few broken ribs, some trauma to the head – and they're saying it looks like the Cruciatus was thrown at him for an extended period of time," he told Harry, looking sick at the thought.

"I read the Prophet this morning, but it's all just speculation about what happened. Fudge and all the other ministry officials refused to comment until they have more information."

"We already know they know a lot more than they're letting on. Everyone's been on alert about You-Know-Who since the start of the summer, and now that he's got his Death Eaters attacking villages, there won't be much Fudge or anyone else can do from stopping a full-scale panic. If we were members of the Order we would know exactly what happened," said Ron with some resentment.

Harry agreed completely with Ron's statement. "How's Hermione doing?"

"She's holding herself together real well," he answered, running a hand through his hair. "But it's like I don't know what to say to her. What are you supposed to say to someone whose mum was murdered by Death Eaters? Don't worry, it gets better?"

Harry thought long and hard about a response. Having experienced death himself, he should have at least had an idea of what to say, but he found he was as much at a loss as Ron was. "Maybe you're not supposed to say anything. It's enough for Hermione to know you're here when she needs you." He found it rather disconcerting that he was supposed to be there to support Hermione and all he could think about was Sirius and his own parents.

The door to Mr. Granger's room opened and in walked a young female Healer with Doctor Freeland. A minute later Hermione stepped out into the hall. She walked over to where the two boys were sitting and took a seat beside Ron.

"They said they want to run a few more tests, just to make sure everything's healing properly."

"Do you want to grab a quick bite to eat?" Ron asked her. He knew for a fact she hadn't eaten anything all day. "You probably won't be able to get back in to see your dad for another half hour at least," he added, when he saw her face take on what could be interpreted as a look of refusal.

In the end, Hermione agreed to go with them to the hospital dining area, if only to get a change of scenery from the lifeless white walls of her father's room and the waiting area. He still hadn't regained consciousness, and only through careful observation was she able to tell even the Healer was beginning to worry.

As they made the trip down to the dining area she couldn't help herself from thinking that it had taken a fatal attack on her family for the three of them to start talking again.