A/N

Well, maybe it's just me, but 2 reviews, not that much, don't ya think? I'll let it slide for now…but only cause I just happened to finish this chap in record time. I won't be so kind next time! Those who did review, I love you guys, thank you! Also, I've started naming chapters, check out the previous ones. Now tell me I'm not making an effort))))

OK, this one's kind of different…enter at your own risk…

Ron continued to race down the long hallway, not caring about his direction. He ran into a couple of second-years and snarled at them for being in his way, and continued to march down the endless corridors, until he finally made a turn and found a dead-end. He stood there for a moment, out of breath, and then, feeling his anger rise once more, pounded a clenched fist into the wall.

He could sense another attack coming to the surface, for his eyes were starting to be clouded by the familiar red fog. His breathing was heavy, and he needed all his might to not let his anger get the better of him. Otherwise, he had a feeling he would hurt himself. Or someone else.

Shit, he thought madly, shit oh shit oh shit. No, stop, Ron, breathe. What the fuck is the matter with me? But all his remaining mildly coherent thoughts were being clouded by the loud sound in his head, undescribable and absolutely unnerving. He slowly slid down the wall, his eyes shut, and clenched his head, trying to make the fog of sounds and thoughts and anger go away. Ron felt as if he was being hung upside down by his feet, dangling in mid-air. The feeling was making him absolutely insane, the familiar fog in his eyes getting thicker and thicker…

It went as quickly as it came, and soon Ron lifted his head and found himself face-down on the floor, fists clenched, his hair damp from cold sweat. Bloody hell, he thought in a daze as he slowly lifted himself up. This wasn't like any of the previous fits of anger that he had had. Those went away relatively quickly, as soon as he found an object to let his rage out on. Thoughts of his attacks brought Ron back into the one area of his mind he feared to enter, the one area he avoided with all his willpower.

July 24th.

Those words, simple and plain, were like a curse to Ron's ears, a curse that made him want to do things he would never be capable of in a normal state. His body and mind reacted instantly, and usually his first impulse would be to go and to ANYTHING to make the memories of what had happened vanish or a least fade. Anything it would take – Dreamless sleep Potion, 20 laps around the Quidditch field or as much Firewhiskey as it took.

He had suspected for a while that the events of the past summer had had a much larger impact on him than he had initially figured. Ron groaned, as the dreaded memories began to press down on him, and the back of his mind was ready to start reliving it all…the horror and the pain and the blood – everything that was now and forever July 24th…Ron knew if he let himself think about everything that had happened to him and Harry that day, everything his scarred body and soul now reminded him of, everything he read in his best mate's eyes, he would end up in the right state for the psychiatric ward in St. Mungo's.

Hermione knew about it. When she found out that he and Harry had been kidnapped by Death-Eaters, she was on the verge of getting hysterical, but, the amazingly strong person that she was, she merely did everything to help her friends. She was, as always, there, at the right time, caring and needed, but, Ron admitted sadly, there was much she didn't know. About what had happened to her best mates that day. She knew, in general, but not everything.

One thing was for sure - Ron would never let her find out. Never, as long as he could keep it from her. She couldn't find out. It would be the end of everything. He would lose her forever, and as far as he was concerned, that would end his sanity, his mental peace, his life, for that matter. She would NEVER know.

Ron wrenched his thoughts away from the dreaded topic and returned to his previous problem.

What had caused him to lose his grip this time? It couldn't have been Hermione, could it? It's not as if fighting was something new for them, quite frankly, that's all they really did, back when they were….oh no.

"Back when they were"? What, just friends? What the HELL is the matter with you! You bloody git, do you even REALIZE what you're thinking? Since when is Hermione not your friend anymore?

The answer came on its own.

"Since you decided to shove me the hell out of your life."

You sodding idiot, Ron thought angrily, as the realization of what he had said to Hermione dawned down on him. You let a stupid argument turn into all THAT? You ACTUALLY said that to her?

Ron moaned into his hands. NOW he indeed had a problem on his hands. Because Hermione wasn't stupid. And if she had interpreted his words the way he really meant them…well, he was, to put it bluntly, dead. Dead, and that's all there is for ya.

The red-head was instantly on his feet. He HAD to find Hermione, straighten this whole matter out, beg for forgiveness, whatever the hell he had to do to make it all right. He couldn't even remember why they started arguing in the first place, he only knew that this whole ordeal was extremely fucked up to begin with.

He started racing down the endless, oddly abandoned corridor. His thoughts were focused on Hermione, as he tried to think of what he was going to say to her. He almost came up with a good line while rounding a corner, when he was suddenly abruptly stopped by someone running into him at full speed and nearly knocking him over. Ron instinctively reached for the wall to keep up his balance, when he realized the person he collided with was Hermione.

She looked slightly off, when she backed away hastily, then stood firmly in her place, staring at his chest stubbornly and making a point of not looking him in the eye. Ron was completely thrown off track by this encounter and was at a loss for words. He searched his mind frantically, thinking of what he wanted to say to Hermione. He opened his mouth, thinking it would make the task easier, but at that precise moment her head lifted, and he saw that her eyes shone with tears. She obviously had been crying. Her hands were clenched together, and she stood there, before him, so small and helpless, that Ron mentally kicked and slapped himself for making her feel the way she was feeling. He had to make it better – somehow, anyhow.

-Hermione…

That was all he came up with, but he never got a chance to say anything else, because she interrupted him, her voice sounding a bit hoarse from crying.

-Ron, I…it's just…look I'm SO sorry I said those horrible things to you! I don't really think you're a git, you have to understand that, tell me you understand that! Ron, I'm sick of this, I'm sick of us not having time for each other, and fighting when we do! I hate it that you think I'm shoving you out, it kills me to hear that, I just…

He cut her off, closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around her cautiously. She gave a ragged sigh of relief, and he felt her breath hot against his ear. Something inside of him tightened strangely, and he broke the embrace, smiling down on her, despite the way his body reacted to her impact almost painfully.

-Hermione, I was about to ask YOU to forgive me. I really have been a prat, you know, saying you've shoved me out. That's just, really, not what I meant at all. You'll never stop being my best friend, I swear, Hermione, that's not ever changing.

Her deep, chocolate-brown eyes were shining up at him as she smiled, and Ron felt as if something warm had just been poured inside of him, because all of a sudden he felt happier than he had felt in a long, long time. He had wanted this for what it seemed like forever – for her to look at HIM, with those eyes he loved so much, and smile at him, because HE made her happy in some way. At that moment it just seemed so natural for him to feel extremely gentle and caring towards her, he didn't want to analyze what it meant for both of them.

At that moment she felt happier than she had felt in a really long time. For a moment it seemed as if nothing had ever changed between them, that there was no war, and no July 24th, there was just Ron, her friend, her best friend, the boy she had known for so many years, with whom she had shared tears and laughter. They had all grown up together – she, and Ron, and Harry, and that meant more to her than whatever obstacle aimed at tearing them apart. She studied his features, and noticed once again – he was all a man now. She had watched him change from awkward lanky boy with strangely long lims, to tall handsome young man with slightly boyish features. She loved that in Ron, the way boy and adult combined within him, the way his broad-shouldered frame clashed with the famous smirk on his freckled face. Although, Hermione noted sadly, it was much less likely to see the boy in him the past few months. Ever since that horrible summer day…what she would give to turn back time…

-Hey, d'you want to, I dunno, talk? – he said suddenly, breaking the silence between them. – We just really don't do that anymore and…I really miss it, you know.

-Of course, - she said softly. They took a few steps towards the nearest classroom door and walked inside. Hermione noticed the sky outside was quite dark, although that didn't faze her very much – autumn days were short. The wind howled viciously, tearing at the tree branches, and she listened to the raindrops beating at the window. Ron sat on the teacher's desk and loosened his tie uncomfortably. Hermione turned her head, and soon found herself studying him, almost cherishingly. Well, she didn't get to see him a lot, did she, it was perfectly natural, this urge to look at him, to see how he's changed…nothing wrong with that, is there?

-Heck, I hate this thing. Back in the old days we were at least allowed to loosen it once in a while. When we weren't at lessons, nobody gave a dead hippogriff if we weren't wearing our ties. Now it's just impossible. Uniform and all that. Like if we don't have our tie straight, come the Final Battle, it'll be the end of the Wizarding Army. Every time I loosen this hang-yourself piece of fabric, I'm afraid of running into Heathway or something, like Harry and I just did…

-You and Harry?

-Well, uh, yeah, we were going to find you, but then we ran into the Coronel, and he dragged Harry away.

Hermione frowned.

-What on earth did he want from him?

-Dunno, I figured there's always something about Harry…always needed by somebody…but hey, you knew that, right?

An awkward silence fell between them, as Ron fiddled with his wand, not looking at her. The way he sat there, something clearly on his mind, reminded her of old Ron, when there was something very important he wanted to say but felt nervous or shy about it. Hermione studied his jerky movements, and felt odd all of a sudden.

-How's Harry doing? – she asked quietly. She saw him stiffen slightly, then run a hand through his short hair, shrugging.

-Holding up, I s'pose. Although he's been in a right state..ever since..you know.

-Yeah.

-It's been tough…on both of us, I guess…He's lucky to have you though, - he finished gruffly.

She lifted her gaze cautiously to meet his, serious, dark and full of grief. A sharp pain seared through her soul when her eyes met his blue ones, Ron's eyes, that searched for so many answers to so many questions…and she found herself weakening under this heavy, cherishing glance.

-I don't know, Ron…sometimes..I feel like I'm just a burden on him…

The words came out of her mouth, and she was surprised to realize she had just spoken her hidden thoughts. This was something she rarely admitted thinking even to herself. Ron had a mixed look on his face, as he shifted awkwardly, got up from the desk and stood to look out the window. She didn't take her eyes off him, waiting for him to answer; it seemed every fiber of her being was sensing such a powerful connection with him, it was hard for her to breathe. Hermione had never felt this way before: being around Ron had been a bit awkward for some time now, but it had never been like this. There had never been the burning ball inside, the longing sensation way in the pit of her stomach…

Suddenly it dawned on her that this was just simply WRONG. Because the next step of this insanity was all too clear, and in the next second she panicked. No no no, this cannot be happening, something's definetely out of place here. Pull yourself together, Hermione! This is Ron we're talking about, remember? Your best friend, Harry's best mate! Harry. Yes.

-Everything really does seem to always come down to Harry, huh? – Ron's voice sounded almost eerie, echoing in the empty classroom, as he turned his head ever so slightly. Hermione frowned for a moment, trying to analyze what Ron had just said.

Harry. She felt herself smiling sadly, as awkward thoughts, not new, but strange all the same, started whirling in her mind. It was all about Harry. For both of them. That's the way it always had been, that's the way it always will be.

It was strange, Ron mused, their almost unbelievable loyalty to this person, to his cause and everything he stood for. They would give up everything for him – otherwise, there was no point in anything they were doing. Both had turned their lives around to help him fight, help him defeat Voldemort. When you think about it, that's all they could do, really – put up an endless fight against evil by Harry's side, ready to give up their lives at any moment. And, quite frankly, if that was all Ron was destined to do, help Harry in defeating Voldemort…let that bloody well be. Most people could never show that much for themselves. So it all just came down to Harry. Hell, he was the reason for Hermione and himself being friends in the first place. He was the reason they had overcome so many obstacles and, in the process, evolved into being who they were now.

If it weren't for him, there wouldn't have been any of the memories their minds now held dear. If it weren't for him, they wouldn't have the absolutely clear understanding of what they had to do with their lives.

If Ron didn't have Harry, he would never have confronted his secret fears, learned to brace his bloody jealousy; for him, Harry was the synonym to true friendship, the kind a person has only once in a lifetime.

But bloody hell, there was one nagging thought. If it weren't for Harry, he wouldn't be standing here, two feet apart from the one woman who completed him and was everything he ever wanted in another human being; if it weren't for Harry, he would take her hands in his and tell her everything he had already told her in his countless dreams; if it weren't for Harry, he would close the distance between them, there and then, pull her against himself and probably snog her senseless. Shit, he swore under his breath. He could tell that she had noticed, and there was something strange about the expression that appeared on her face.

-Ron, I'm tired of this, - she suddenly said in an oddly clear voice. He turned to her, frowning slightly:

-Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione, we should head back probably, you must be wiped…

-That's NOT what I meant.

Ron's head pounded as he stared into her eyes, their expression oddly determined. She looked as if she was about to spill out her thoughts no matter what, and he wasn't sure that was a good thing.

-I'm tired of these games we play. Why are we being so strange to each other? Things have never been this awkward. I just don't understand why we have to change anything in our friendship. There's no reason for things to change…

-Well, in case you haven't noticed, things HAVE changed. A lot. Kinda impossible to ignore those changes, you know, - Ron answered in a tired voice, burying his face in his hands. He didn't want the conversation to go down that road, he didn't want to start giving some sort of bloody explanations to why things had changed between them.

-D'you mean Harry and I? Is this what it's all about? Well, in that case it's just…

-Look, Hermione, trust me, you do NOT want to go there. It's late. I think we should probably…

-No.

He stopped, focusing his gaze on her.

-We are going to get everything out of the way, Ronald, whatever things that are ruining us as friends. Can't you understand that our friendship means the world to me?

-Hermione…-he groaned. Please don't start this, you won't like the way we finish. I don't think I can pretend everything is all right, not today, please don't do this.

- Ron, this is a matter of saving our friendship, can't you see? We can't go on like this, it's like somethings come berween us, and we need to get whatever it is out of the way…

-Hermione!...- he said more harshly, turning to the window. Don't push me…

-No, Ron! – she said, raising her voice. –I just want us to get this all out of the way…

-FINE THEN! – he bellowed, suddenly turning to face her, mere inches dividing them. From that moment it was like his mind stopped working properly, and he wasn't quite aware of what he was doing, and at the same time in the perfect state of mind. No consequences existed anymore.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer than she had ever been, looking straight into her shocked eyes. Her palms met his chest, but she didn't push him away. He spoke, tracing light circles on her cheek, and felt her skin growing hotter under his touch. Ron suddenly felt an odd power over her, and it inebriated him.

-You want to get this out of the way? Fine, here's what it all comes down to. I can't bear seeing you and Harry together, day after day, you stroking his hair or holding his hand. I am silent, though. As always. Because he needs you, Hermione, and I know that, believe me, I do. But that doesn't stop me from wanting you either.

He watched her eyes widen for a second, pulled her even closer, and, miraculously, felt her hands slide up to rest on his neck. Unaware of what he was doing, he leaned down and slowly traced his lips across her forehead, leaving a burning trail behind. His voice was low as he spoke, his face inches away from hers. The feel of her touch made him say things he thought she would never hear, it was as if he was encouraged by the fact that she deliberately didn't push him away.

-It's always been you, Hermione. And there hasn't been a fucking day since summer that I didn't want to hold you like this and call you mine and mine only.

Her fingers were now stroking the skin of his neck, and not only talking, but simply thinking straight was becoming a problem for him. He couldn't understand the way she was acting. What the hell was she doing?..

-But I know that's not ever going to happen. Because if there's one thing I wouldn't want is for Harry to be miserable.

In the next second he felt her stand on her tiptoes. Ron's baffled mind was refusing to analyze the gesture, when she turned her head and planted a soft kiss just above the collar of his shirt. For a moment he thought he died; this was simply too much for him to handle. In a moment he heard her speak:

-Would you want to see ME miserable?

Her voice was slightly hoarse, and it affected him almost painfully. He couldn't understand what was going on in that head of hers or what was happening to them; all this – holding her close like this, feeling her touch – it all seemed so perfect, as if being in each other's arms had been their fate all along…and in the same time it was all so horrendously wrong…he wasn't supposed to be touching her…hell, she was definetely NOT supposed to be liking it…

-Of course I don't want that…I'll rather die than see you unhappy, - he whispered sadly, watching her expression.

-Well I am Ron. I have been miserable ever since that horrible day. Don't you see it? How can you not?

She was speaking softly, so close to him he could feel her breath on his neck. Merlin, this is too much…

-D'you know what it's like, to want to do everything to help someone you care about, to be willing to give yourself up for them, but be utterly miserable with them? Well that's how it's been for me. It's like I was being split up…into so many pieces…and I just…I just need something to make me whole again…but the one thing that can…is out of bounds…

Was she really saying this? Was it that she really wanted to be with him all along? The thought just never occurred to him before…Here she was, with him, practically saying that he meant to her just as much as she did for him…it was WRONG…bloody wretched wrong…but despite that, Ron knew that this was the border for him. All it would take for him right now was one word from her…and that would be it. It was all too unbearable…

-What he doesn't know, won't hurt him. But it would heal me. Both of us, Ron.

Yes. This was extremely fucked up. But at that moment, he really didn't give shit anymore, and his mind zoned out completely when, after what seemed like centuries, he was crushing his lips hungrily down on hers and feeling her answer his kiss willingly, moaning softly into his mouth.

This was how it all was supposed to be all along. This was right. No other way about it.

And my sadistic nature comes to the surface. I'm leaving you with a cliffhanger, so there)))) Review, if you know what's good for ya))))