I was re-reading trying to remember where I was going with this story and I couldn't handle some of the typos that were in it so I changed them.

Hope to get out another chapter (a real one…not just alterations).

AN: Hey everyone, thank you so much for the reviews! They really help boost my confidence. This chapter has taken a little while for me to put out simply because I have so many directions that I can take it, I had to try a few before I found the one I liked best. Hope you like this chapter!

Disclaimer: Ok, so I'm not J. K., but I'll get over it.

Ron had been sitting beside Hermione for the last portion of the letter, trying to comfort her by holding her around the shoulders. During that time, Hermione had gone from silent tears to a stubborn control over her emotions, giving her face a stony appearance. But when Ron had uttered the last words, "I'll always love you Hermione. Dad." She lost all control. Sobbing, Hermione buried her face into Ron's chest and wrapped her arms around him as though he was the only thing safe in her life.

Awkwardly, Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione's body, slowly easing into a more comfortable embrace. He couldn't help but notice how wonderful it felt, having Hermione in his arms.

"Shhhh," he whispered, "it's going to be ok. Shhhh, it's alright."

Hermione couldn't speak, there were to many overwhelming emotions and thoughts for her to handle at once. Her dad had been a Death Eater. Pain, anger, sadness, and a slight feeling of shock held her to that thought and all its implications. Her father had never really loved her mother or maybe even her, at least deep down. Sadness. Her father had stood by and watched Harry's parents die. Anger and pain. He had been a Death Eater all those years ago. Shock at the revelation, and pain at the betrayal of trust.

As these thoughts kept swimming through her head, one thought occurred more frequently than the others. Comfort and security. Comfort because Ron was holding her, whispering into her ear, and security because Ron was the only person in her life who'd always been there when she needed him. She could no longer say that about anyone else.

Suddenly she gasped, yanking free of Ron's arms. Puzzled and though he'd never admit it, a little hurt, Ron looked up at Hermione's now standing form.

"Wha-," he started to question.

"Harry!" was all she said before she started pacing the room, a look of fear and contemplation written across her face.

"What about him?" Ron couldn't understand why she had suddenly thought of him. Maybe, said a voice in his head, maybe she likes Harry. Maybe she wants Harry and can't stand to be around you. Maybe... Ron shook his head to clear it as pain started to stab his heart. "What about Harry?" Ron repeated, saying Harry's name with a little distain.

"He doesn't know about the letter. He CAN'T know about the letter. Promise me Ron? Promise me?" She said.

"Promise you what, Hermione?" Ron asked, befuddled. But as quickly as the words had left his mouth, he knew what she wanted. "Do you want me to promise to not tell him about the letter? Hermione, but..."

"No Ron, you CAN'T tell him! You just can't." she pleaded.

"He'd want to know what happened to his parents. He'd want to..."

"I know Ron, don't you think I'd thought of that? Huh?" She questioned, slowly getting angry. "What do you think he'd do if he found out, tell me that Ronald? Tell me that?" she paused taking in a deep breath, as though trying to calm herself. "I'll tell you what he'd do." She said before waiting for an answer. "He'd HATE me Ron! He'd HATE me! MY DAD, MY DAD, watched his parents get Murdered. MURDERED Ron!" Tears began welling in her chocolate eyes again.

Ron couldn't stand to see his 'Mione cry, and he could understand the point she was making. She thought that if Harry knew, he'd hate her and no longer want to be her friend, but Ron knew better. "'Mione," he said bracingly, while grabbing her shoulders and looking into her overflowing eyes, "he WON'T hate you. Why would he? You're one of his best friends, and it was your father who did it, not you. He'd still be your friend, and he'd be grateful that you told him. He'd WANT to know, 'Mione."

During Ron's attempt at counsel, Hermione had been shaking her head, completely unconvinced that what he was saying was true. "No, Ron, he won't. He'll be so mad, and he won't want to talk to me. He's already barely talking to us as it is, and I can't stand to lose him."

Her last few words cut Ron deepest. She couldn't stand to lose him. To lose Harry. She couldn't possibly reciprocate the feelings he had for her. She was in love with Harry, not him.

Startled by the thought of wanting her to love him, Ron, recalled some of Mr. Granger's letter. Mr. Granger had loved Lily. Lily hadn't loved him. She loved James, Harry's father. Mr. Granger had become a Death Eater and as good as killed both of them.

Ron loved Hermione. But from what she'd just said, she obviously didn't love him. She was in love with Harry. Did that mean that he, Ron, was destined to become a Death Eater, and to kill both Harry and Hermione, kill his best friend and his only love? It didn't seem likely to him, but Mr. Granger didn't think he'd kill Lily either, and just let her die without much of a fight. Was it possible that he, Ron, would do the same?

He couldn't stand the thought of harming Hermione, so Ron leapt off the bed, said "I promise not to tell HIM, Hermione." And started for the door.

A look of relief came into Hermione's eyes, which had been watching him as he sat in silence, thinking. But just as quickly as the feeling had come, it was gone and replaced with fear. "Wait!" Hermione shouted as Ron started to reach for the door handle. Ron paused, and looked her dead in the eye. "I, where, umm.." she began to stutter, caught off guard by his intense look.

"What Hermione, you got me to promise?" He said, looking as though he'd given up on life and happiness.

"Where are you going? Don't, don't you want to be my friend still?" For about the hundredth time that night, her eyes welled with tears.

Ron was taken aback. "Of corse I want to be your friends still 'Mione. How could you even think that I wouldn't?" Ron said, ignoring the first question. He had been about to go to his dorm, wanting to cast himself into a depressed oblivion and sleep, but apparently, Hermione wanted to unknowingly torture his heart some more.

She was sobbing now, standing in the middle of the room, looking lost and unknowing of what to do next. Ron couldn't stand it, so he swept quickly over to her and wrapped her in his arms.

Hermione nuzzled into him, crying uncontrollably. "Just...just...stay. With, with me...ok...tonight...please?"

Startled by what she wanted him to do, Ron looked down at her. "Are, are you sure, 'Mione. I mean, you don't want to be alone or anything?" She looked up and Ron almost couldn't control the urge to kiss her.

"No...not alone," she said, looking up into his eyes, finally getting control of her tears. "Will you stay with me? I'd feel, I'd feel a lot better if you did." She said, blushing a bit.

"Of course 'Mione. I'll just, I'll just conjure a sleeping bag and pillow and...um...sleep beside your bed." He said, looking away from her, not wanting to lose his composure and take advantage of her in her present state of being.

"Umm...no Ron." Hermione said, stepping back a little from their embrace, looking quite embarrassed. "I meant...I mean, you don't have to if you don't want, but...um...I meant in my bed with me, just you know, holding my hand or something." Saying that, she stepped fully out of his embrace and looked at the floor waiting for his answer.

Ron was flabbergasted. Was she really asking him what he thought she was? "Oh...um...I, well, sure 'Mione, but...a...but on-only if you want me to."

Still looking at the floor, she nodded.

"O-ok then. I'll just umm...yeah...do you need to get ready for bed?" he questioned, the tips of his ears turning red.

"Yeah, um, I guess I do." Said Hermione, finally looking up and smiling a bit. Ron looked confused as to what to do next, so Hermione helped him along. "You can just wait in the bathroom 'till I say it's ok to come out. Oh," she added, as he started to walk toward it. "You'll be needing," she waved her wand, conjuring some Chuddley Cannons pajamas, "Some pajamas."

"Thanks," said Ron, impressed by her skills as a witch, grabbing the clothes, and walking into the bathroom, shutting the door in his wake.