New chapter! I'm actually pretty proud of this one. It's one of my favorites if I'm being honest.

I just wanted to thank everyone for the kind reviews on my last chapter. I'm not going to lie, I was pretty down on people's reactions until then so thank you. You guys have no idea what this story takes out of me physically. I'm paralyzed in one of my arms so I can only type with one hand, so it takes double time.

I hope you guys enjoy this one! Please review!


Ron had side alonged tons of times with both his Dad, Mum, Bill, and Charlie. Sure the first time he got sick all over his fathers shoes, but by second time he was just violently dizzy. Now it's like nothing, uncomfortable in the moment, but not long lasting. So why did he feel so sick all of the sudden?

A pit of dread was building in his stomach. He physically keeled over, clutching at his knees and heaving a little onto the grass, hoping to hack something up.

A hand found his back and rubbed it for a moment, the touch startled him until he met Bill's blue eyes. "What's wrong Ronnie? You haven't had that sort of reaction to apparition in years." His oldest brother pointed out.

Ron ignore his words, not able to find viable excuse at the moment. Harry however, seems to catch on from his place on Bill's left.

"I don't think it's cause of the apparition." The chosen one frowned to his best friends brother.

Bill gulped, suddenly feeling a little guilty for not realizing sooner, but supplied a soft nod.

"Ron if you don't think you can do this I'd understand. No ones gonna hold it against you." His brother whispered, bending down a to meet his hunched over form.

Soon, the ginger recovers as he shakes his head viciously and stands tall. "I have to do this. Not even just for myself but you know..." the words 'for her' are unspoken.

"Okay, let's all just take a minute." Bill suggests noticing Harry's pale face.

They all stand for a little bit. Bill's eyes seemingly searching for any threats, Harry toeing some leaves, and Ron closing his eyes to focus his breathing.

"I've never been here before." Harry comments quietly, causing Ron to open his blue eyes and meet his green ones. "I mean..." he starts.

"Neither have I." His friends soon clarifies, "it's never been me who came out, always Dad, Bill, Lupin." He lists, "feels wrong."

The dark haired boy nods slowly, "yeah it does." He agrees scratching his head awkwardly.

Bill felt like an intruder on a private moment between the pair, but didn't have anywhere else to go. Instead, he stood silently, not wanting to rush them.

"I reckon we can't stand out here forever." Ron breaks tensely after another minute of staring at the brick house.

"Come on." Bill led them down the path first.

When the trio reached the door, it was the oldest Weasley who had the courage to finally knock.

After a small scuffle heard behind the door, Hugo Granger threw it open with. His face went from that of confusion to a beaming smile.

It made Ron's stomach clench.

"Bill! What a pleasure! Oh Harry and Ron, nice to see you!" He says happily.

Ron had met Mister Granger on a few occasions at Kings Cross and in Diagon Alley. He was always kind to Ron and his family, more then happy to entertain his father on all things Muggles.

"Is my little girl here? Jean and I told her to stay put." He frowned a little.

Ron really felt ill now.

"We're really sorry to disturb you," Bill began cryptically, "may we come inside?"

Hugo eyed him skeptically, it wasn't that he wasn't comfortable with Bill in his home, but this visit was puzzling.

"Of course." He opened the door to them, "Jean!" He called out as they stepped in.

"Who was it at the door?" The woman's voice came as she walked into the foyer, smiling at the sight of the boys. "Oh! This is so unexpected. It's lovely to see you all! Come in, come in." Jean ushered them over to the sitting room.

"Wait here while I get some tea, I have some made." She tells, scurrying to the kitchen, causing Bill's protest to die on his lips.

Soon his older brother and Hermione's father fell into small talk. Harry supplying a few nods here and there in acknowledgement.

Ron however, was too busy surveying the house.

Everything was clean and white. The dark wood floors seemed freshly polished and the pillows looked recently fluffed. On the mantle were photos of Hermione. Unmoving, but just as sentimental.

Ones of her swaddled in a towel, her as a small baby, her in France with bushy brown hair, and many more. The one that caught his eye, was her at King's Cross her from first year, smiling widely as she sat on her new trunk.

He had to look away. The memories of happier times becoming too painful as of late. The whole thought of her now miserable made it too much.

Missus Granger soon returned with a tray of tea and biscuits, but no one made a move to grab anything. Not even Ron, which shocked Harry and Bill alike.

He noticed now Hermione's mother nervously wringing her hands together. "This is about Hermione isn't it? I knew she'd take my mother's death badly, but I didn't think it would warrant a home visit. I'd assume she'd dive into her work. It's not exactly a healthy alternative but she's-" the woman ranted.

"She doesn't know." Ron interrupted huskily before he can help himself.

"She doesn't?" Hugo asked shocked, "well we sent an owl. The white one, I think she's yours Harry." He pointed out.

The chosen one nodded slowly, "we got the owl but Hermione she," he cleared his throat, "she never saw your letter."

The couple eyed each other for a moment before Hugo spoke, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

Bill glanced to his brother and his best friend, both were averting their eyes from the adults in front of them.

"Hermione, she's gone." He says sadly, not even having a moment to elaborate before the Granger's jumped in.

"Oh Hugo! I knew this would happen! We told her not to come home." She said painfully clutching her husbands hand.

He grabbed it and gave it a squeeze before turning back to Bill, "do you know where she is? How long ago did she leave?" He asked quickly.

Bill shook his head again, surprised to find tears stinging the backs of his eyes. Ron's head soon found its place between his hands as Harry plucked his hoodies zipper.

"She didn't leave," he gulped, "she was taken." The eldest Weasley said shakily.

"Taken!" Jean exclaimed aghast.

"I don't understand." Hugo said, voice quivering as silent tears began to stream his wife's face.

"I knew we shouldn't have sent her off to that school. I knew it." Her mother cried.

This seemed to peeve Ron off, Harry too.

"It's not because of Hogwarts it's because of me." Harry informed quickly and sadly.

"You?" Jean spat rather angrily.

"Not Harry, me." Ron corrected, sure of it.

"You?" Her voice had leveled out to confusion rather than anger.

As Ron nodded, Harry shook his head.

"Well what is it? What's happened?" Hugo asked anxiously, trying to keep his calm whilst his wife fell into his arms.

Harry took a staggering breath, "my godfather, he," he sighed sadly, "last year he was killed."

"Killed?" Jean squeaked nervously, worried for Hermione's fate.

"Yeah, you see," The chosen one started.

"Harry, third year, start there. Pettigrew." Ron moaned the name painfully. He knew Hermione had stopped being honest with her parents around then. After being petrified.

"Right..."

And so it began. The Granger's barely had time to bad shed tears over Hermione, as they'd been too focused on the stories being told. Those of that night in the Shrieking Shack, of Barty Crouch Junior, Cedric Diggory, and Dolores Umbridge. Even the events of the Department of Mysteries (Missus Granger let out a terrible cry at learning Hermione had been cursed) and presently their Christmas holiday.

"It was just over a week ago when it all happened." Harry started nervously, palms running roughly over his denim clad legs.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," he began before Hugo interrupted.

"The woman at the Ministry? The one who killed your godfather?" He asked voice so soft it made Harry's heartbreak. Here this people were not knowing if their daughter was alright, yet felt for him after losing Sirius.

Harry nodded, "yeah, her, well she arrived to the Burrow with Fenrir Greyback."

"The man who hurt you Bill." Jean said to herself, mentally keeping tabs of all the players

A little awkwardly, the oldest of the three nodded.

"She came. Said some nasty things then went to leave. I-" he began shamefully, "I followed her."

"So did Hermione. So did I." Ron was quick to defend.

"You only followed because I ran in first. If I hadn't-" he began frustrated, hot angry tears forming in his eyes.

"If there's one thing I know about my daughter, it's that she would do anything to protect you two boys. Please don't blame yourself Harry." Jean said with wet eyes, placing a soft hand on Harry's clenched fist.

"If I just-" he started again.

"If you had known this would happen to Hermione would you still have ran after her?" The woman asked, voice riddled with sadness.

"No, of course not!" He cried out indignantly.

"Exactly." She soothed, retracting her hand to find her husbands again, "continue." Jean requested.

Though painful, Ron knew this was his part to tell, "Bellatrix she said she wanted to kill me." He decided to leave out the part of Hermione in the witches clutches, wanting to spare some pain.

"Why?" Hugo gasped.

Bill noticed Ron begin to tremble and he could at least fill this part in. "Us Weasley's were dubbed as 'blood-traitors', purebloods who support Muggles and Muggle borns alike. We're also not few and far between. To someone like Bellatrix Lestrange, if she kills one of us there's still over half a dozen more."

Hesitantly, Hugo nodded in acknowledgment and understanding, but not agreement.

"She didn't want to kill Hermione." Ron's voice broke suddenly horse, "or Harry."

"But isn't him, uh, You-Know-Who, isn't he after you Harry?" Jean questioned.

"Yeah, he is, it's peculiar they didn't try it with me."

"And Hermione? Why her?"

Again, Ron and Harry squirmed uncomfortably, "your daughter is one of the brightest witches Hogwarts has ever seen. You-Know-Who, well, we reckon he needed her brilliant mind. That she may know something that could hurt him." Bill advised regretfully.

For now, questions from the Granger's halted, it all was too much to take in.

"So Hermione, she-she saved herself for me," Ron chocked, "she hid me to keep me safe and gave herself up so they wouldn't kill me and they took her. And I couldn't do anything. Not a thing." Ron broke down becoming hysterical.

Tears filled the room. Missus Granger's sobs rivaled Ron's as Mister Granger held her, silent tears of his own streaming his reddened cheeks. Harry had slumped over, breathing heavily, while Bill place a soft hand on his shoulder.

Ron stood suddenly, halting all the tears for a moment, "Loo. I need the loo." He said almost sounding panicked.

"Ron, maybe you should just-" Bill began to suggest.

"Upstairs, second door on your right." Hugo said with a groggy voice.

The ginger nodded and took off, not noticing Jean throw her husband a funny look at the instructions. Instead, he just heard Bill's soft voice floating through the room as he told the Granger's of the measures the order had been taking.

Ron climbed the steps two at time before being met by a long hallway with identical white doors. Spotting the second door to his right, he frantically pushed it open, ready to collapse atop the toilet lid.

But instead he was met by a different sight.

Blue walls. A large book shelf tucked in the corner. Parchment stacked neatly atop a desk. Next to it was a Muggle chessboard. Pictures stuffed and tacked onto a board. And the smell.

Roses. Lemon. Ink.

The same thing he smelt in the Amortentia earlier in the year.

It was all so Hermione. It was consuming his senses too much, too fast. And without even realizing what he was doing, he doubled onto her bed, silently crying.

"I thought you might need this more then the loo." A voice sounded from the door.

Immideatley Ron jumped to his feet, feeling like he's done something wrong.

"Relax Ron, I sent you here for a reason." Mister Granger eased, moving to sit in the chair at Hermione's desk, motioning for the boy to sit back down.

"I'm so sorry Mister Granger, this is all my fault," he started shaking his head.

"I don't believe that Ron." He said strongly.

The ginger shook his head fiercely, "you should. You don't understand how much I've hurt her," too many things come to mind. Lavender. The Yule Ball. Crookshanks. Scabbers. Trolls. "I could've done better." He wiped at his eyes with the backs of his wrists.

"You think I don't blame myself for this too?" He asked a little harshly, "I get it," he begins softer, "you loved my daughter didn't you?" He asks knowingly.

"No." Ron's voice was so strong, it even startled him. "I love her." He clarified, "Don't talk about her like she's gone. Like she'll never know."

Hugo nodded slowly, but said nothing for a few minutes, letting Ron take in Hermione's room with blurry eyes instead.

"I want to understand Ron." His voice broke the air, "I wish my daughter hadn't lied to me. Jean and I suspected something but didn't push it. But I need to know, if there's even something that can help. Please Ron." He begged.

Ron, Harry, and Bill had skimmed the surface of the chaos that has been their last six years at Hogwarts. And Ron knew more details on Hermione specifically then the other two, Mister Granger sensed as much.

And Ron sensed the desperation in his eyes, the same look he's been wearing for weeks. Even before Hermione was gone. When his biggest problem was chucking Lavender Brown cause he had missed her so much.

Thoughtfully, his blue eyes found the untouched chess set. He pushed down the warmth in his chest at the thought of Hermione practicing just so she could match him. He didn't have time to harp on it.

"Mister Granger have you ever played chess?" He asked, a brilliant idea forming in his head.

...

Hugo Granger pondered over the chess board carefully, studying the pieces as he placed them on the respective squares.

"So my daughter is your queen?" He asked as Ron used tape to secure the parchment onto the white queen.

Ron momentarily stopped what he was doing and opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air, "Er, what? I don't know." He fumbled.

"The chess piece Ron, Hermione she's the queen, is she not?" He asked a little amused.

"Oh," he said relieved then suddenly realized he didn't answer the question, "oh yeah, well I reckon it fits." He says a little nervously.

Ron was playing white and Mister Granger was black.

You-Know-Who and Harry were the kings respectively. Hermione was the queen, while Bellatrix Lestrange was on her side. Ron made himself the knight, the protector, he felt a bit awkward about it, but he figured it would be worse if he had just write himself off. Then Hermione's dad was sure to think he's useless. In turn, Greyback was the knight, he debated over Malfoy, but settled on making him bishop.

He also debated putting Draco's name down as well, but settled for just the last name representing him and his father. Draco wasn't guilty of anything but being a poncy pureblood prat. Well for now.

Dumbledore was the other bishop, both ready to take over if their kings fell. The rook's were just labeled 'Death Eaters' and 'The Order', being both were to represent the Kingdoms walls per say.

As for the pawns it included those who either lost their lives or were simple puppets. Sirius, Cedric, Quirinius Quirrell, Peter Pettigrew, Mad Eye, even Ginny due to second year.

Anyone else important would just have to be mentioned along the way.

"And this woman," Hugo began lifting up his black queen, "she's the one who took Hermione?"

Ron simply gulped and supplied a weak nod. Like the younger man, talks of Hermione's captor seemed to evoke pure sadness from Hugo Granger.

Suddenly, guilt bubbled within Ron yet again, "we don't have to do this." He vaguely gestured to the chess board.

"I want to," he insisted, "but if it's too much for you..."

The ginger repressed the urge to groan. This man really should not be giving him the benefit of the doubt. Not after all he's done to his daughter. Even before this.

"Look there's something you should know." Ron's eyes quickly averted her fathers.

Hugo's eyes pierced his, silently encouraging him to continue.

"Before Hermione," he got chocked a little, "before she was taken, her and I, we weren't speaking." He admitted in a whisper, ashamed.

"Why?" He asked.

"Well, I think," he didn't know how to phrase it, he didn't want to, "I know I hurt her. My sister says I broke her heart." He trailed quietly.

And then for the first time since he arrived here, Mister Granger's face was painted with red hot fury. Fists clenched so hard they turned white.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He told the man quickly.

"Did my Hermione know that? That you're sorry?" Hugo all but grunted.

"No I never got the chance to tell her." It took almost everything out of Weasley not to cry.

A few moments passed, but to Ron it felt like a lifetime. Eventually, Mister Granger seemed to lessen his rage and took a deep breath.

"I don't blame you Ron." He began honestly, "I don't blame you that those people took Hermione. I may not have known everything about my daughter, but I do know her and I know how much she cares about you." Hermione's father pauses, "and I know you know as much too, so I just want to ask you why?"

And Ron knew what the 'why?' was for. Why would he hurt her knowing how much she cared. And for that, he doesn't really have an answer, not a good one anyway. Nothing he can even justify to himself.

The only thing that resonates is something he told Harry before all this, before Hermione was gone.

"How can you love someone so much and hurt them so bad?"

And he doesn't know. Now more then ever. His mind is just constantly consumed with guilt, sadness, and anger. All directed at him or occasionally, Bellatrix and the rest of You-Know-Who's followers.

"I can't answer that." Ron tells him, "there's no reason that could make it right. If I had known what would-" a bile rose in his throat.

"I know that Ron." The man says softly, "I know that she knew too."

"Knows." He blurted out before he can help it.

Awkwardly, Hugo clears his throat, choosing not to acknowledge the outburst, "of course she knows." He subtly corrects, "and I want to hear about what happened this year, but maybe we should start from the beginning?" He suggested pointing weakly to the board.

Nodding slowly, Ron cleared his throat and thought for a moment before picking up the piece representing Harry.

"I reckon a lot of this starts around Halloween first year. Do you know anything about Mountain Trolls..."


Like I said, I'm pretty proud of this chapter. The idea of the chess board was inspired by Teen Wolf, if anyone recognized the reference!

Here's a preview for next time, back to Hermione.

"You want to have fun don't you Mudblood?"

This is usually how it goes. Bellatrix wildly sounds off to herself as Hermione remains stoic and silent. No matter, it seems the crazy witch likes talking like this.

As she grabs her arm roughly and drags her up the stairs she goes on, "it's come to my attention we've missed New Year's muddy."

You can keep up with me on my Instagram /ottersterrier (I edit Ron/Hermione & HP)

Please review! You guys were amazing last chapter!