"Death Eater," he yells, "Death Eater, Death Eater, Death Eater".

"I am not a Death Eater, Ron. Please come to your senses" I shout firmly.

"It won't do any good, he's obviously too far gone," Harry says dismissively, his head arches back against a pillow and his arms are firmly crossed.

I am now in one of the bedrooms of Grimmauld Place, stood close to the fire in case I have to make a swift journey back to Azkaban. The past few hours have been a blur: I finished patrol, walked without communication to our private quarters and hopped into the fireplace. I will deal with consequences later.

"I see evil in you, dark, penetrating evil. You are supporting him aren't you? Don't deny it to me; I have seen enough wickedness to know when I see it infront of my very eyes. You are in alliance to the Dark Lord! Why, you ugly disgusting evil hidden in a beautiful body. I can see inside of you!" He plunges out and tries to grasp me. Harry pulls him back immediately but he kicks and squeals like a moody child. He spoons the fresh air, scooping it away from him in order to get closer to me. Harry tries desperately to keep him stable but loses grip eventually. Ron rolls over onto the floor and hugs himself pitifully. He sobs silently.

I take another step back, uncomfortably. I pull my cloak around me even tighter and hide my face behind my hair. I rescued him and yet he still doesn't recognise me for what I really am. Maybe I am evil. He is more educated on the matter than me. I am an academic and use my mind. He uses his soul to figure out people, and he sees my soul as dark.

"Ron look at me," I say and grab his chin so his face is fixed infront of mine, my voice then softens "it's Hermione."

I feel the tears well in my eyes as Ron looks at me with even greater detest. His face is so pale and his expression so vacant, but his eyes are welling with the hatred that my abandonment brought. He blames me, as only a passionate but unwise person could. Ron always viewed loyalty as more important than safety. When I announced I was leaving I might as well had been leaving to join the Dark Lord, in Ron's view. For Ron abandoning a friend in need is the worst crime you could commit. And I committed it. He was sent to Azkaban a few months later.

I look away again, let go of his chin and my feet heavily thud over to the fireplace.

"Don't leave, Hermione, not yet," Harry asks. This is the first time I have felt his need for me. The first time he wants me to be with him. I look at him and then Ron, who is scowling like a dog on the floor. The Trio is reunited. One is without his mind, one is without his identity and one is without her morals. I would much rather this reuniting had not taken place. We are obviously not the same people as before.

Suddenly, Ron begins to fidget. He swings his head violently from one shoulder to the other, straining his neck. His arms heave all over the place, punching, pushing and seizing thin air. At full speed he hurdles into the closet door. The door is locked but the fragile wood falls helplessly beneath him. He tumbles and then somersaults into the moth-eaten clothes. Dust bursts out in a praise of freedom, after many years of entrapment.

The closet is dark, I raise my wand; "Lumos." The wand sparkles with orange flames.

"Fire," Ron screams, creating a high-pitched unnerving sound. "Get that flame away from me. Leave me and take away the fire of hell that consumes you. I knew you were doing the Devil's work. Harry, why can't you see it? I have to get away from her, she's trying to suck out my soul and give it to the Dementers. They won't have my soul, not now. Not now they've taken away every happy memory. I won't let her take my soul. Harry look - she has fire to burn out my soul."

I immediately extinguish the light of my wand, wondering what I could do to convince him that I am not some daughter of Satan. I heave out a great gush of breath and rack my brain for a possible explanation that would appeal to him.

"Listen Ron, fire was once believed to be one of four elements that made up the whole world. It was used in the early days of Medical Magic to balance ones humours and therefore purge them of their suffering," I say, sounding like the Textbook Hermione everyone used to loathe.

Ron's eyes bulge and his face pulses red with pain, "You are not purging me anymore. I will not let you take away another ounce of happiness from me."

He is all dried up of happiness; all he possesses now is sorrow. That is why he is mad. It isn't because he doesn't know his current situation, which is what I thought caused his madness earlier. Now I know he is aware of everything around him but every bit of it has driven him crazy.

I look at him, his teeth are not gritted and his body stands rigid. I need something else to explain. I ponder.

"You said I used fire because I am evil, Ron, didn't you?" I ask and he nods in agreement. "Well then if so, does that make the Holy Spirit evil? Because the spirit came down to the disciples in the form of Fire and Wind on Pentecost. The Holy Spirit was used to inspire the disciples with their Calling. That is what I came back to do to you Ron, and you too Harry. I came here to guide you both in defeating the Dark Lord. That is why I rescued you Ron and why I came to find you Harry."

There is a long pause; I wonder whether Ron is digesting this. I look at Harry, through the mangled beard and filthy robes I see his understanding.

"Thank you," Harry finally says, "I am proud of you."

He means it; he wouldn't have said it otherwise. I smile, only slightly. Just to let him know that I am proud of him too.

"I will leave you to settle him down for a while. I'll be downstairs if you need me," I say and then I descend the stairs. I should really go back to Azkaban but I am too unsettled.

Five Fire Whiskey's later the door opens. It is Harry. He gives me a frown and swiftly snatches the bottle away. In one swift movement he fills his goblet, swags the drink down and fills it back up again. I look at him surprised, but I do not blame him. I motion for him to fill mine up, he does so slowly and reluctantly. As I reach out to grab the goblet the sleeve of my robe falls back and the Dark Mark looks up, sneering at the both of us. I only now acknowledge the dull ache it is bringing to me. My skin has turned purple around the bloody red outline. This mark is pierced into my skin for the duration of my days and I wonder if the evil it represents will permeate through me also.

"I don't think I could have done what you did," Harry says.

I look at him, trying to work out what he means by this. Harry is a careful man who I have never known make a wrong decision. He is telling me I have made a wrong decision. My face blanches and I feel ashamed.

"What I am saying Hermione is, well to be frank, I wouldn't have had the balls to do what you did. Everything you have done so far has been the true form of courage, something Dumbledore would be proud of. Thank you; what you are doing may just work."

I smile slightly and shuffle in my seat: "Let's not be optimistic, it was that attitude that caused our failure. I will stop at nothing to help you, Harry. I don't know how I am going to explain Ron's disappearance but I will die before admitting his and your location."

"That's crazy, you are worth more than me, or Ron, or any of the other wimps that have buried their heads in the sand since Voldemort took over," Harry says with great determination. I shudder though, a few weeks ago I was one of those wimps.

"You are the one he needs to be saved Harry. A few sacrifices here and there by me does not replace the years of ducking and diving you've had to do. The amount of times you have saved lives and the amount of times you've nearly lost your own."

Harry waves his hand in dismay, gurgling down another Fire Whiskey; "I am meant to do that Hermione, it's part of my job description as "The Boy Who Lived". You however, came here by choice. You've left a lot of comforts behind whereas I had nothing to begin with."

I smile at him passively, I notice that this debate is not going to be settled so I am drawing a close to it. I clear my throat, ready to discuss my next step in this farce.

"If the Inner-Circle accept my absurd excuse, and if Snape supports it, I need a new objective. I figured that I can't just Floo you into Azkaban so you can perform a Killing curse or two. I need a way to get you to the Dark Lord unrecognised, the only problem is he is under high security and no mere Death Eater is allowed to pop in for a chat. It's a bit like demand only and I don't know to what extreme I have to go to get him to want to see me." I say, not that I am not willing to go to that extreme.

"What extreme are you willing to go to, Hermione?" Harry asks. He is another wizard who is skilful at reading my mind.

"Any" I simply say.

"Care to elaborate?" Harry replies, with a cold stare he adopts from another wizard who asks me uncomfortable questions.

"No," I reply sternly. A tense pause follows. I pick at the ends of my fingernails, flexing and relaxing my toes to ease the nerves in my body. "I should go now, no doubt Snape will have been interrogated about the escape already, and if he is telling the truth he took a huge risk in trusting me. I violated that trust so it's only fair that I take the punishment." I hadn't before thought of the forms of punishment the Death Eaters could inflict on me, but no doubt they will. I guess it's just another thing I have to deal with but until I do I will not think of it.

"Punishment?" Harry stutters.

"Yes, punishment. I'm not just talking a slap on the arse either," I reply, just as cold as before. Harry looks distressed, I can feel him praying that they won't use Crucio or abuse me in any physical or sexual way. But like I said it won't be a child-like punishment now, will it? "I don't mind Harry. I think Ron's freedom is more important than my comfort. You should too."

With that thought for him to dwell on I get up and leave. I move up to him and with my dry lips I give him a light kiss on his forehead. He gives me a smile that covers a myriad of fears. I ruffle up his hair and return him one that shows that I am strong enough to do this. I leave him and enter the bedroom that Ron is asleep in. He is sleep talking about Grindylows, recollecting the day Lupin set them free in class for the students to deal with. A fun lesson, that was, and I am glad he has chosen that memory to be with him tonight.