A/N Well, I can just say one thing – as long as I have even ONE reader like CamJ59,who so devoted to this story, I'll keep on writing! ))) One review is sooooo not enough, but when it's a review like the one I got for the previous chapter…..))))) Anyhoo, I will change the summary, who knows, maybe THEN more people'll start reading. Also, in answer to the request of my FAVORITE reader, I've included some Harry POV in this chap, just to make things a bit clearer. And sorry it took a while to update. I'm really starting to hate archaeology…

The plot thickens…

It was as if the world around her was spinning towards its end, as Hermione heard the words tumble out of her mouth:

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

She couldn't believe she had just said that, and in the same time it was the most natural thing in the world. Two voices were screaming at her inside her head: one of caution and responsibility, telling her to instantly back away, and another, getting stronger with every second, that of all the bottled-up feelings of care and want and love for the person that was standing in front of her. She stopped to muse the word "love" that came to mind all by itself when she thought of Ron. Was it that she really loved him? She lifted her head to catch his glance, and saw that it had darkened, it was almost as if his soul reflected in his eyes. And then she understood that it was true. She loved this shy, wacky, low-self-esteemed adorable red-headed wonder, and for some reason admitting it to herself felt like the best thing in the world…When she felt Ron's lips on her own, the consequences and all previous thoughts slipped conveniently out of her head, giving way to the overwhelming feelings inside her. Hermione felt herself answer him willingly, moaning as he nibbled on her bottom lip and his fingers traced circles on the small of her back. The kiss instantly turned from slightly shy and gentle to hungry and passionate. This was completely surreal, everything he made her feel and what he himself was experiencing at that moment.They were both pouring everything into the kiss, all the years of secret longing and wanting to feel each other this close, its power was almost frightening.. Ron broke away from the kiss only to lean down to her neck and trail his lips down to start gently sucking at her pulse-point. Her heart was beating hard against her chest, and Hermione was sure he could probably sense it, close as they were to each other. He was taunting and teasing her, attacking the most sensitive parts of her neck with his lips and tongue. Where he had learned to do that, she couldn't even imagine – not that it mattered at that moment…He lifted his head momentarily, and that gave her a chance to answer his caresses. She found herself trailing soft kisses along his ear-lobe, on the gentle spot underneath his ear, and heard his ragged intake of breath.

-You do know you're driving me mad here, don't you? – he whispered hoarsely, turning his head to look at her. His eyes were fogged over, and that gaze of longing, love and want was what undid her completely. She smiled up at him and reached to run her hand through his red hair, looking him straight in the eye, then stood to whisper in his ear, her lips touching it slightly:

-I could say the same thing to you.

Hermione heard him sigh gently against the bare skin of her neck. In a moment she felt him touch her hair, stroking it in a way she thought he never could:

-How come you never wear it down anymore? – Ron asked in a strangely sad sort of voice.

-It's against the uniform code. I have to put it back – in a knot or…

She felt him fumble with her hairclip:

-Can I let it down for you?

He didn't give her a chance to answer and took the clip out, allowing her chestnut locks to fall on her shoulders. Hermione felt strange under his gaze as he did this and, moving stray strands away from her face, studied her features, his glance cherishing and intoxicating.

-You're beautiful, Hermione, you really are, - Ron said in a low, slightly hoarse, voice. She was slightly stunned with this, not having expected him to be so outward about it. In the next seconds he captured her lips with his own again, and this time the kiss was almost desperate; it felt as if he was trying to tell her everything he felt for her only with his touch. Hermione felt his hold on her strengthen, as if he was afraid something would tear them apart at that very moment…Her hands snaked around his waist to pull him closer, and in a moment he deepened the kiss, filling the moment with a whole new, almost scary, meaning, as their tongues touched and intertwined, as his hands touched her body in a way that made her once again feel the heated sense of longing inside…

It ended as abruptly as it started, when he suddenly pulled away:

-No, Hermione, we have to stop.

Her brain was having difficulty processing his words as she stared up at him, watching him breathe heavily, his chest rising.

-What is it? I don't…

-We're NOT supposed to be doing this!

He couldn't BELIEVE he had actually forced himself to say those words. Maybe it was because at that moment he realized that things had a chance of going much, MUCH further than they already had, and if she wasn't regretting it yet, she would if things did go further. They both would, probably. His heart was beating a tattoo against his chest, as his whole body hummed with a strange, unknown sort of energy. Ron tried not to look at her as carefully as he wanted, because then his eyes would be drawn to her swollen red lips or mischievously twinkling eyes, and then he wouldn't be able to stop himself once more. He stepped away slightly, his hands remaining on her waist as he tried to make his wild heartbeat slower and calm his rushing blood.

-We…what the hell are we doing, Hermione? – he breathed out, leaning his forehead against hers and slightly surprised she didn't even flinch at his swearing. He could feel her stiffen for a moment, and then relax back into his arms, but not in the same way she had just a few brief minutes ago.

-I don't know, - her voice rang in the suddenly still silence of the room. It was clear and filled with something he could only identify as deeply buried sadness.-This is not how it should've happened…

Her words hit him like a slap in the face, as it dawned on him what she was saying:

-You regret it. – It came out as a statement, not a question, as he backed away entirely, shoving his hands in his pockets and moving to stare out into the dark. He could feel bitter tears building up somewhere deep inside, so deep he knew they would remain unshed. It was all too good to be true, anyway, she was bound to realize being with him at all was all just a huge mistake, wasn't it…His trail of thought was interrupted by a pair of hands snaking around his waist, and he felt Hermione's breath on his back, through the fabric of his uniform. Ron felt his muscles tighten, as his body reacted instantly to her touch.

-Don't say that, Ron. That's not what I meant at all…

-Do you love him?-he demanded suddenly, speaking the question that had been keeping him restless for he couldn't remember how long. He felt her stiffen and slowly back away. Just the answer to my question, he thought bitterly. Now I'll just have to drown myself, I guess, he continued to muse darkly, when he suddenly heard a quiet sob. He turned around and saw Hermione perched up on a desk, her face turned away from him as little sniffs escaped her chest and her shoulders shook slightly. This was a sight he could never take in calmly; seeing Hermione cry was one of the things that made him go completely mad and either try to kill whoever had hurt her, or do his clumsy best to make her stop. It was no wonder he found himself instantly in front of her, only one thought in his head – he had made her cry, he was a bastard, he had to do anything to make it better. He took her hands in his and sat on the floor in front of her, rambling and trying to think of something right to say…But it was hopeless – for a few minutes she was still and silent and only tears rolled occasionally from underneath her eyelashes, before she suddenly lifted her head to meet his eyes, and he saw that her gaze was stone hard and determined, but pleading at the same time:

-I'm trapped, Ron.

Her words dumbstruck him – this was definetely not what he had expected her to say.

-I'm living a lie. I realize it right now, clearer than before, but…but…

-Do you love him? – he carefully asked once more, softly and gently this time, yet determined to get an answer to his haunting question. Her eyes lowered sadly, but in a second she spoke, her voice confident as ever:

-He needs me.

She looked into his eyes once more, and he searched them frantically for something, anything, that would tell him what he desperetaly wanted to hear from her. He squeezed Hermione's hands slightly and shut his eyes for a few seconds, trying to get his brain into focus once more. This is what he thought about earlier that day. Harry needs her. He didn't have the right to deprive him of that happiness. He had to go through with this. For Harry. Or he would never be able to live with himself. He had NO BLOODY RIGHT…

-He needs you, - he said, echoing her voice, and felt her hands tremble in his. Ron got up to his feet and headed for the door. He had to get out of here, get the hell out of here, go up to his room and…he didn't really know what he would do there. Get drunk, perhaps, and try to forget everything that had happened tonight. Yeah, that's just the way to go, he thought sarcastically. As if any amount of Firewhiskey was ever going to wipe away the feeling of Hermione's lips on his own, or the memory of the little sound she made with her throat when their tongues first touched, from his mind…Hell, there was another merry thing to look forward to – facing Harry. Shit. He had no idea how he was going to accomplish that.

Ron turned to find Hermione still perched on the desk:

-C'mon, we have to go, Hermione.

She stared at him, her expression undefinable. In a moment she started speaking hastily:

-Ron, I just wanted to…

-I won't say anything about this, Merlin, Hermione! I understand. This never happened.

The hell it didn't.

-No! It's not about that…

-What, then?

She approached him, as though deciding whether or not to speak her mind.

-I don't regret doing this, you know.

-Don't DO this! – he snapped suddenly, not controlling himself any longer. The anger and hurt were about to get the better of him, and the last thing he wanted to do was lash out on Hermione.

-It's just…Don't make it hurt more than it already does. I know…all this…can't change anything between us. Don't make me hope that it actually could. Make a clean break.

She stared at him for a few moments, before suddenly leaning in to give him a quick hug and bursting out of the classroom. Ron thought he heard a little sob escape her lips, and immediately felt like trash. He groaned and slid down the wall, completely strenghthless. That's when the whole meaning of what had just happened came to him in a different light.

He just kissed his best mate's woman. No, he just snogged his best mate's woman, and touched his best mate's woman, and loved every second of it. And he had to go, and face his best mate, and pretend nothing happened, and pretend he didn't want to repeat it all every time he saw this woman walk by. Shit.

Ron Weasley was definetely getting drunk tonight.

He walked down the corridor, slightly overwhelmed by the information that had just been dumped on him. It was assumed he had gotted used to it, each year being a handful and some of surprises, confessions and unfolded mysteries. Everybody thought, naturally, that there was no way of dumbstriking Harry Potter – not anymore, anyway. Not when his name always appeared alongside the words "murder", "revelation" or "Voldemort". It seemed only Harry himself had never gotten entirely used to this. Not as if anybody cared, though.

His walk was slightly off, as he half-wandered down the abandoned corridor towards his Division's Common Room. After the trip to Heathway's office and the "chat" with General Mayers he felt as if his head was about to explode. The ever-present Horcrux issue had been raised once more and, of course, there wasn't much encouraging news…

The pieces of Voldemort's soul were hidden extremely well. Surprise, surprise. And every time Harry came across a possible hiding-place, found a clue, anything to lead him to a suggested Horcrux, it would turn out to be a false alarm. It was annoying, frustrating and depressing, to say the least, if considered that the fate of the free wizarding world was at stake.

The whole General Mayers thing was another issue.

He and Heathway were secret members of the Order. After Dumbledore's death, the relations between the members of the Order and the Ministry had gotten ill as ever, due to the Ministry's continuing efforts to take power in its hands only. The officials continued to see the Order as sort of a grown-up version of Dumbledore's Army – an organization of extremely skilled wizards, extremely influencial… and capable of trying to seize power at any moment. Now that last part, in Harry's point of view, was nothing but a load of bullshit…not as if Harry had any say, regarding the matter.

Taking the present situation into consideration, Heathway and Mayers were constantly suspected of treason by the Wizarding Army officials, and it was only their reputation as highly professional Officers that kept them in the Academy. They were Harry's only way to contact or consult the Order, and he understood they were taking an extreme risk for his sake.

And people were ALWAYS risking something for him, weren't they, he thought darkly, as he entered the Common Room and scanned it for Ron. He was nowhere to be found, and Harry quickly retreated to the corner of the room, landed himself in a chair and let his thoughts slowly take over him.

"Oh, here I go again..back on my old trail of thought…will I ever learn? Seems in my life it's best just not to analyze at all – just do what I'm supposed to do, and the analysis can just go to hell…Who are you kidding? You've tried, it didn't work. You always end up on questions like "What's the point" or "Isn't that how it always is". Yep. People are always risking something for me, giving something up for me. Their position, their health, their life…have any of them ever actually thought that maybe I'm not worth it? Everybody always assumes I'll live up to whatever plans they got for me. Well what if I don't? And why the fuck do I even HAVE to?

Okay, calm down, stop getting all hysterical. Where the bloody hell is Ron? Why's the bloke never around when you actually need him? Maybe found a new bird to snog. Well, at least one of us is getting some. Come to think of it…

Hermione. Now that's a thought to smile to.

She's really beautiful nowadays. Strange how only looking at her can make things better, huh? There's something warm and soft about her, who knows what it is, maybe the way her eyes are deep and chocolate, and the way her hair feels like velvet. All of her – she's home, the most stable thing in my life so far. SO much has happened, but Hermione…she was always…THERE.

Not judging, or criticizing, just there for me. I don't even properly remember falling for her – just woke up that morning and…realized it, I guess. It's natural. I must have always felt it, deep inside, but hadn't noticed. How could I have been so blind, well, beats me. And I always kinda thought there was something fishy about the way she and Ron were…quarreling all the time, then getting mighty jealous, when seeing the other with another person. The whole bloody Hogwarts was talking about it! But…well, there's nothing between them, that's for sure. How do I figure? Well…look at them two! They've both changed too drastically, and whatever THAT was, is in the past. With the rest of our childhood. We've all changed, haven't we. Hell, BEFORE July 24th I probably wouldn't have thought of her as someone other than a friend…

But she's with me now. Mine. It was her decision too, and she's happy with me. Because she knows how I feel about her, she senses it, I see that. I guess the summer has changed her too.

And, even though now she mostly acts as if our relationship is just a branch of our friendship…well, that will change. It's just hard for her, I understand that.

All I know, is that being with her is like being home. Have I ever truly had one? Yeah. Hogwarts. You know. The one that's been busted up and turned into the place for training well-skilled murderers, that Hogwarts. Another thing that bloody Voldemort took from me. Well fuck him.

I've found my home. Home feels like Hermione. I know that now. And who knows, maybe I'll never have a proper home, a place "where the heart is". My heart will always be with her.

She's my harbor, my nest, my calm, my peace. Nothing will ever change that, and nothing will EVER take her away from me. Now, after this summer, I won't let her ever leave. I…well, yeah, I love her. I love Hermione Granger. And she'll come to see that. She will.

Hermione…You think I don't see how you always try to act as if nothing has changed? As if we're the same? I know, change is a scary thing. But you and me…we've always been this way.

I know you feel the same way about me. Your eyes tell me as much. You love me, Hermione, and that is enough to make me the happiest man in the world. And even though your kisses are shy, and your touch is almost sisterly, I know just how much you care about me. I'll wait, Hermione. I will."

His thoughts had made him stare glass-eyed into the black hole of the dying fire. Head propped up on his hands, Harry was completely lost until he heard someone stumble into the Common Room. None other than Ron Weasley.

-Hey, mate, where the bloody hell have you been? I've been waiting for you for Merlin knows how long!

-Well..I..er…found Hermione, for one… and then…well, I had stuff to do, ya know.

Harry frowned a little, seeing his friend obviously in a shaken up state.

-You're not drunk, are you?

-Not yet I'm not, - Ron muttered, leaning against the stone wall.

-Are you okay, you seem a little…off?

-You know, that's the thing, I..eh…have this freaking stomachache. My guess is there was something nasty in the meatloaf at dinner. You don't mind if I just go to bed, do ya? You'll tell me what Heathway wanted from you tomorrow.

-No rush, - Harry agreed doubtingly, as he watched his best mate climb the stairs to their dorm.

Ron had certainly changed, too, Harry noted sadly. Sure, he was his best mate, loyal as ever, always there to help…but the mere thought of what he had to go through that summer made Harry sick.

It was all his fault…his fault…Harry groaned, burying his face in his arms. They were all targets because of him…Ron, Hermione, every single person who had died…He was the guilty one. And the guilt would never leave him, as long as he lived.

One person. To answer for all. For Cedric's death. For Sirius. For Dumbledore. For the broken homes and shattered lives. For the madness that happened in the summer and turned their already shaken world into complete chaos…

For the fact that Ron now could, just like Harry, see the Thestrals.

Ok, now will you please have some consience and REVIEW! Ginny will appear for the first time in the next chap, look forward to it, people, part of the plot and one of the keys to the Summer Mystery. What DID happen? Read and Review! If you can help yourself, don't flame))))