Chapter 25

Even without the tell tale sign of their reconciliation displayed on Hermione's neck, it took Mrs. Weasley less than 45 minutes to figure out they were no longer fighting. She'd have figured it out sooner, but the fact Ron had missed breakfast had lulled her into a false sense of security. It wasn't until she popped her head into the small room on the main floor, that she realized all was not as it had seemed.

As she expected, Hermione was doing exactly as she'd been instructed. It was Ron who was slacking off. He hadn't even touched the upper shelves of the cupboard yet. In fact, he wasn't even anywhere near the cupboard. He was simply standing there, in the middle of the room, a clean dust rag still in his hand, ogling Hermione, who was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor. The look on his face and the fact his eyes were riveted to her backside, were more than enough to clue his mother in on what he was thinking.

"Ronald Weasley!" she hissed, just before she swooped down on him, grabbed him by the ear, and pulled him out of the room.

"Wha--?" he started to protest and then quickly changed tracks. "OWWW! MUM!"

Taken completely by surprise, Hermione spun around to see what the commotion was all about, but Ron and his mother were nowhere to be seen. Dropping her scrubbing brush in the bucket of water beside herself, she rose to her feet and made it to the door just in time to see Mrs. Weasley push her son towards the staircase. She had no clue what had just happened, but whatever he'd done, it was bad enough for his mother to separate them.

Ron hadn't returned by the time she was finished with the floor or the bookcase, which meant that he probably wasn't coming back. Her own tasks completed, Hermione decided she may as well tackle the cupboard herself.

...................

Molly Weasley was seated at the kitchen table, having a leisurely discussion with Tonks and Remus when a blood-curdling scream echoed through the house. For a split second everything seemed to stop, including her heart. Dropping the cup in her hand, Molly jumped out of her chair and sprinted up the stairs, her companions right on her heels.

"NNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!"

By the time the trio made it into the hallway, Mrs. Black's portrait was cursing up a storm, but even her shrieks weren't enough to drown out the anguished cries emanating from the room directly across from her. Ignoring the portrait, Molly burst though the door and into the room, where she found Hermione crumpled on her knees beside a prone figure.

"What happened?" Lupin asked, shoving Molly further into the room in an attempt to get through the doorway.

It was then that she realized Hermione was kneeling over her youngest son. With a gasp of horror, Molly covered her mouth and choked back her own sob.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Lupin shouted again, as he inched his way towards Hermione. It was too late, he knew that. He'd seen that wide-eyed, lifeless stare on too many faces to hold out any hope. She didn't need to answer the question for him to know it had been the Avada Kedavra curse. But he needed to know who had done it and where they had gone.

"Hermione," Lupin said softly, as he crouched down beside her. "Who did this?"

"WHO CAME OUT OF THIS ROOM?" Tonks shouted at her aunt's portrait. "WHICH WAY DID THEY GO?"

"YOU DIRTY HALF-BREED! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"ANSWER ME, YOU OLD CRONE! DID THEY GO UPSTAIRS OR OUT THE FRONT DOOR?"

"Hermione," Lupin tried again, the desperation evident in his voice. But he may as well have been speaking to the wall for all the good it did him. She didn't reply. She didn't even appear to know anyone else was in the room with her. She just continued to rock back and forth, her entire being was focused on the body in front of her.

"HERMIONE! WHAT HAPPENED?"Lupin shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her as he spoke. "WHO DID THIS?"

"Vol...Vol...Voldemort..." she stuttered between her sobs.

Molly let out a wail of her own and Tonks, having given up on her aunt's portrait, was immediately by her side.

"Mum, we heard someone scream," Ginny said, running into the room so fast, she almost collided with the two women standing near the doorway.

"What hap--" her brother began to ask when he appeared behind her. The scene in front of him was so shocking, that for a moment all he could do was stand there and stare at his own dead body. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE!"

Everyone except Hermione spun around and gaped at Ron, as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Relief instantly flashed across the adults' faces and before Ron could utter another word, Molly had pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"Get off," Ron said, shoving his mother away. "MUM! LET GO!" he shouted, pushing past her to get at his girlfriend who was still sobbing hysterically on the floor, oblivious to everything that was going on around her.

"Hermione," Ron said, placing his hands on her shoulders as he kneeled beside her. "It's ok."

She didn't hear him. She didn't see him. She wasn't there. She was lost behind a shroud of pain. Ron realized it the moment he looked at her closely.

"HERMIONE!" he shouted, grabbing her tear stained face and turning it towards his own. "Look at me," he demanded. "I'm right here." It took a moment or two, but eventually he saw the spark of recognition in her eyes.

"R-Ron?" she asked, even as she threw herself against him, hugging him as if her very life depended on it.

"Yeah," he said awkwardly, staring at his own corpse as he held her.

"Get her away from there," Lupin ordered, stooping down to help Ron pull Hermione back.

Unfortunately, Hermione's distress seemed to increase as the numbness and shock wore off. Ron had hoped she'd stop crying once she realized he was alright, but rather than abate, her sobs seemed to become even louder. She continued to cling to him desperately and her body shook with each deep, shuddering breath she sucked in.

Molly was still horrified, despite the fact her son was standing in front of her, very much alive. She wanted to focus on him, but her eyes kept shifting over to his lifeless form against her will. And that was just one of the internal battles she was fighting. More than anything, she wanted to touch her son. She wanted to hold him and feel that he was real. But he had shrugged her off. She had been cast aside. She knew there was nothing malicious about it. She could see that right now, Hermione needed the contact more that she did. Arthur had been right. Ron's first instinct had been to comfort Hermione. Everyone else, including her, came second. But understanding that and accepting it, didn't stop it from hurting.

As soon as they had Hermione a good distance away, Lupin released her, pointed his wand at the body, and advanced. He was about a meter away, when there was a loud cracking sound and the body turned into a glowing white orb.

Ron actually let out a small laugh, despite himself. "It's just a boggart," he said to Hermione, the relief evident in his voice. "You've always been hopeless when it comes to boggarts."

"Shut up!" Ginny shouted, glaring at her brother. "How can you insult her at a time like this?"

"RIDDIKULUS!"

"At least McGonagall isn't chasing her through the house, shouting at her for failing her O.W.L.S."

"Insensitive prat," Hermione mumbled against his neck, as she punched him weakly in the arm.

"Feeling better now, are you?" Ron asked, visibly relieved by the fact she was speaking.

"No," Hermione replied, as the fire in her eyes was suffocated by the pain of what she'd seen.

Ron watched helplessly as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. Irritating her had worked for a minute, but it obviously hadn't been enough. At a loss for what else to do, he simply stood there silently and held her as she cried.

"Maybe we ought to leave them alone," Tonks whispered to Lupin.

Molly seemed to come out of a trance of her own when Lupin touched her arm. "Yes, perhaps that's best," she agreed, nodding her head and placing her arm around Ginny's shoulder. "Come on dear," she added, steering her daughter out into the hall.

"It was just a boggart, Hermione," Ron said again. "It wasn't real."

"It will be," she replied so softly, he would have missed what she said, had her mouth not been inches from his ear.

A pained expression covered his face as the meaning of her words hit home. "You don't know that," Ron replied, instinctively tightening his hold on her.

"Yes, I do," she said angrily. "Don't you dare lie to me. We both know it's the truth."

"Hermione..."

"DON'T!" she cried, pushing away from his body so she could look him in the eye. "We both know what's going to happen. I know you, Ron. I know how you think. You'll throw yourself in front of Harry to block that blasted curse. You'll sacrifice yourself if you get the chance," she said, glancing at the floor in front of the cupboard where his corpse had been.

"It might not come to that," Ron said in a strained voice. No longer able to look her in the eye, he pulled her back against his chest and hugged her so she wouldn't be able to see the guilt on his face.

"You better believe it won't," Hermione cried, shoving him away from herself. "I won't let it happen. And you better not even think about shielding me either," she added, her eyes burning with cold fury. "I swear, if you get yourself killed trying to protect me, I will never forgive you."

Without thinking, he took a step away as he gaped down at her in shock. It's the pain talking, he thought, forcing himself to give her a weak smile.

"EVER!" Hermione shrieked. "I'LL HATE YOU FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!"

Ron blanched at her harsh words. It might be the pain talking, but she'd hit him where he was vulnerable and it stung. He stood there, staring at her with his brow creased as he fought down the urge to strike back. "No, you won't," he proclaimed after a prolonged silence.

"Yes, I will," Hermione whispered, as her anger abated and the pain filled her eyes once more. "I will," she said again, as if to reaffirm it to herself. Eyeing him through her tears, Hermione could see that Ron didn't believe it anymore than she did. DAMN IT! she thought, as she closed the distance between them and let her head fall against his chest.

"It will be ok," Ron said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and soothing her.

"No, it won't. Not if you're... if you're... I can't," she muttered. "Don't ask me to accept it, because I can't. I won't. And I'm not being unreasonable."

She really does know what I'm thinking, Ron thought with a guilty smirk.

"I refuse to let it happen," she said obstinately. "I won't sit back while that evil bastard takes away everyone that matters to me. I don't want to end up like Professor Lupin. I won't be the one left behind. If one of us has to die, it is going to be me."

"NOOO!!" Ron shouted and much to his surprise, Hermione started to chuckle.

"You can't live with my death anymore than I can live with yours."

"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Ron barked, staring at her with a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes.

"I'm going to find a way to get rid of that maniac once and for all," Hermione stated, her voice full of determination. "I know there is a way. I just have to find it. And when I do..."

"You aren't getting anywhere near him," Ron interrupted. "Are you listening to me? I mean it. This isn't your battle to fight."

"It's as much my battle as it is yours," she retorted. "And I'm going to be standing right beside you and Harry when you wage it."

"No."

"Yes."

"NO!"

"You can't stop me."

"The hell I can't."

"You planning on cursing me?"

"If I have to."

"You won't."

"I will." If I have to.

"No, you won't."

Yes, I will, he thought.

"I really don't want to fight with you," Hermione said, her voice trembling slightly as she tightened her grip on him. "Not right now, ok? I don't have the strength. We can fight about it tomorrow. Right now, I just need you to hold me. Please."

"All right, love," Ron said, letting out a sigh as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I could never hate you," she said softly. "I love you."

...................



Cut it out, Ron thought as his stomach growled ominously at him yet again. He knew he'd missed lunch and he could have cared less. He had no intention of abandoning his spot on the sofa, no matter how loudly his stomach might protest. Hermione hadn't said much, since he'd led her up to the study on the first floor, but that didn't matter. He didn't need to talk to her to comfort her. As long as he sat there beside her, she was content.

Fortunately, his mother was one step ahead of him, which shouldn't have come as any surprise. She glanced at Hermione out of the corner of her eye as she entered the room and set the tray of sandwiches down on the table in front of the couch.

"Make sure she drinks all that tea," Molly said to her son quietly as she departed.

It took some doing, but eventually Ron did manage to get her to drink it. He knew the only reason she did it was to shut him up, but that didn't really matter. The point was, she drank it. It wasn't until she finished, that he realized it wasn't regular tea. His mother had obviously laced it with something, probably a sleeping potion, because she was out cold almost as soon as she set her cup down.

Ron sat there, with Hermione's head propped against his shoulder, and considered letting her sleep it off on the sofa. But in the end, he decided that might not be such a good idea. His brothers were bound to show up soon and he didn't want them to disturb her.

"Mione?" Ron said, nudging her gently. He didn't really expected her to wake up, but it had been worth a try. His suspicions about the tea now confirmed, he realized the only way he was going to get her to bed was to carry her there himself.

It wasn't a difficult task. Her room was only a few doors down the hall and she weighed next to nothing. The hardest part had been opening her bedroom door while she was still in his arms. Once it was ajar, he simply kicked open it and carried her inside.

The glare he received from the large ginger cat that had been sleeping in the middle of her bed stopped Ron dead in his tracks. "Move it," he demanded, unwilling to let the cat intimidate him.

Crookshanks uncurled and leisurely rose to his feet. But rather than do as ordered, he looked up at Ron defiantly, and made it a point to flex his claws as he stretched.

That little bugger is threatening me, Ron thought as he narrowed his eyes. "Last chance, fur ball," he warned as he approached the bed. "Move it or I'm going to flatten you. And stop looking at me like that," he added as Hermione's cat sauntered to the foot of the bed and sat down, his tail swishing behind him. "It's not like I planned this. How was I supposed to know it wasn't normal tea."

Alright, it's official, Ron thought as he set Hermione down on the bed and pulled her shoes off. You've gone over the bend, mate. Pull yourself together. You're giving excuses to a bloody cat.

"You can glare at me all you want," Ron said, as he sat down on the edge of Ginny's bed and watched Crookshanks reposition himself beside Hermione like some sort of silent sentry. "But I'm not going anywhere. So you may as well get used to it."

...................

Hermione lay awake in the dark room, hugging her pillow to her side as she tried to slow her rapid breathing. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she buried her head and mentally berated herself. It was just a dream, she reminded herself for what felt like the hundredth time. But somehow that knowledge didn't comfort her much. It might have been a dream, but it had been frighteningly real.

As she lay there, listening to the even breathing coming from Ginny's bed, she couldn't help envy the peace her roommate had found in her sleep. Of course, there was no telling how long that would last. Hermione knew that Tom Riddle still haunted her young friend in her dreams. It didn't happen as frequently as it had in summers past, but he still put in an appearance.

With a sigh, Hermione climbed out of bed and reached for her dressing gown. Sleep was no longer an option for her, not tonight anyway. Every time she closed her eyes the dream images played in her head. The flash of green light. The sickening thud his body made when it crumpled to the ground. His eyes. Those piercing blue eyes which were normally so full of life, laughter and mischief, staring up at her, blank, empty, lifeless.

Hermione's body gave an involuntary shudder as she saw them again. Willing the image that had been tormenting her out of her mind, she grabbed the first book she saw on bedside table and walked out of her room.

It wasn't until she reached the study that she glanced down at the title of the book she was carrying and nearly dropped it in surprise. Curses that Kill. Of all the books she had in her room, she had to grab that one. Fate was a cruel mistress. Bill had given it back to her that very morning. She'd been in such a hurry to get to Ron's room that she'd tossed it on top of her schoolbooks instead of putting it in her trunk where it belonged. And now it was in her hand, taunting her.

She definitely wasn't going to be reading that book tonight. For a moment Hermione considered going back to her room and searching for something else to distract herself with, but she didn't want to risk waking Ginny.

What she really wanted was Ron. She wanted to sneak into his room, crawl in bed with him, and hold him tight. She wanted to feel the warmth of his body. She wanted to hear the rhythmic beating of his heart. She wanted to watch his chest rise and fall with each glorious breath he took. If only there was a way to do it without waking him up. But that was impossible.

"No, that won't do," she whispered and she forced herself to descend the stairs instead. Maybe a warm glass of milk, she thought, moving towards the kitchen.

It wasn't until she was nearly in front of the kitchen door that she realized there was a light burning on the other side. She wasn't sure what time it was, but she knew it had to be at least two or three a.m. Members of the Order popped in unannounced all the time, but even so, it was rather late to be holding a meeting.

Placing her ear against the door, Hermione listened for any sign of voices, but the room was silent. Yet, someone was obviously in there. She could see the light seeping through the crack under the door. Maybe they put an imperturbable charm the door, she thought, giving it a light push. Or not, she added as it swung open and revealed Mrs. Weasley sitting alone at the table.

"Can't sleep, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, setting down the cup she'd been drinking from.

"Nightmares," Hermione admitted, forcing herself to walk into the room and sit down at the table.

"The boggart?" Mrs. Weasley pressed her.

Rather than speak, Hermione let her eyes fall to the tabletop and nodded her head.

"Have some tea, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, standing up, retrieving a kettle from the stove, and filling a fresh cup. "It will help," she added, moving back to the table and placing the mug in front of Hermione.

"No... no thanks," Hermione said, staring down at the brown liquid in front of her with trepidation. She knew that Mrs. Weasley was just trying to help, but she wasn't about to take anymore of that tea. It might put her to sleep, but it also stripped her of the ability to react to things going on around her and that could be dangerous.

Earlier that evening she'd heard Ginny trying to wake her for dinner. Her mind had been aware. She'd heard every word Ginny said, but her body simply refused to obey her. Her eyelids had been so heavy, she'd barely been able to open them. She'd wanted to get up, but she just couldn't seem to make herself do it. There was no way in hell she was going to let that happen again. Sure, the chances of Grimmauld Place being attacked were slim, but she'd be damned if she was going to let some Death Eater find her in a potion-induced stupor.

"It will help," Mrs., Weasley said again reassuringly. "It's a special blend," she added. "For dreamless sleep. Ginny went through quite a bit after..." she stopped, unable to bring herself to mention Riddle or his diary. "You won't have anymore nightmares," she promised Hermione with an encouraging smile.

"How do you do it?" Hermione asked, reaching for the cup and pretending to take a sip.

"Do that, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, taking a large drink of her own tea.

"How do you live with this constant fear?" she elaborated.

The question was so blunt, it actually took Mrs. Weasley by surprise. Her eyes widened slightly as she set her cup down and looked at Hermione appraisingly for a moment. She was saddened by the fact someone so young had dealt with so much. Her first instinct was to protect her, but deep down she knew it was too late for that. She recognized the pain in the young woman's eyes and knew that nothing she did was going to take it away.

"I wish there was some trick I could teach you," Mrs. Weasley replied, as she sat back in her chair and regarded Hermione, "but there isn't. You just live with it, because you have no other choice."

"Sometimes it just overwhelms me," Hermione said rather candidly. "I worry about my parents and what will happen to them. I worry about Harry and what this is all doing to him."

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "We all worry about Harry."

"He's been through so much, and now with Sirius's death... he blames himself for it. He won't talk to either of us about it. He's pushing us away and trying to cope on his own," Hermione stated, before she realized what she was revealing and forced herself to stop.

"And you are worried about Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked, after a prolonged silence.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, but she was reluctant to elaborate. She couldn't exactly tell his mother that she was afraid the reason Ron didn't apply himself more, or make plans for the future, was because he didn't really think he was going to have one.

As she sat there, pretending to drink her tea, Hermione's eyes shifted down to the book she'd placed face up on the table. "I won't let him do it," she whispered to herself, as she set her cup down.

"Do what, dear?"

"Throw his life away," Hermione replied quietly.

"Who, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked with a pained expression. Surely she's talking about Harry.

"I'll find a way to stop it," Hermione replied grimly, her eyes still locked on the book.

"You can't block the Avada Kedavra curse," Mrs. Weasley said, her heart rate increasing the moment she saw the words Curses that Kill on the cover of Hermione's book.

"Watch me," Hermione said, her voice hardened with determination.

Mrs. Weasley was so taken aback by the tenacity and defiance she saw blaze in Hermione's eyes that for a moment she didn't know how to respond. The look on her face was enough to convey just how serious she was. Thunderstruck, Mrs. Weasley just sat there and watched as Hermione rose up out of her chair, grabbed her book off the table, and marched out of the kitchen.