A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry I haven't posted in so long. (Long-winded explanation to follow…)

My computer crashed completely. Not only did we have a bunch of viruses, but the actual fans inside of it fell apart. It was a bad scene, and I tried to get it fixed for a month till I gave up and got a whole new computer. Hopefully this will never EVER happen again. I lost my files of the previous stuff I posted here however, so it's been tough trying to get it out.

I really appreciate your patience with me! You rock my world.

And obviously I own none of the characters. I just like to play with them. I'll put them back… later.

VII

The Burrow was very quiet during the night considering the amount of noise that went on normally during the daylight hours, with the silence being broken by an occasional snore from Tonks, until…

THUD.

Harry awoke with a start. He felt around for his glasses and wand, and found them on the floor beside his pillow, then muttered, "Lumos."

Ginny stopped walking and turned around, embarrassed.

"I was just… oh it's silly," she mumbled. "Oh, alright; I was watching you sleep. You just… you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you. I was getting sleepy, so I thought I'd go to bed. I knocked a book off the table." Her face was redder than her hair.

Harry smiled and said, "I actually thought it might be Tonks."

"Nah, look at her. Her and Prof- I mean, Remus, look pretty comfortable."

Harry turned to the couch and saw that Tonks was being cradled by Lupin. His arms were around her middle, as though protecting his unborn child. She let out an unladylike snore, making Ginny giggle quietly.

"So… did you get kicked out of Ron's room, or do you just like sleeping on the floor?" Ginny teased.

It was Harry's turn to be embarrassed. "I guess I fell asleep here. Ron and I came back to talk to Moony about …some things."

Ginny stooped over and grabbed Harry's hand, helping him off the floor. Then, she winked and said, "I can think of more comfortable places for you to sleep, Harry."

He allowed himself to be led upstairs to her room, leaving the sleeping werewolf and his lover in peace.

• • •

Meanwhile, Snape was dealing with a dirty rat. Wormtail is merely another obstacle my way; I cannot allow him to affect me. The Dark Lord obviously wants to keep Miss Granger, and I'll be damned if that disgusting rat ruins my plan. Albus' sacrifice must not be in vain, he thought as he sneered at Peter's unconscious body on the floor, and then sighed. I suppose I'll have to move him from the basement. The Dark Lord would not be pleased if I allowed his pet to die down here. Not that he'll be mourned of course. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, he's already dead.

It's not as though I'll be mourned either, not after this. Holding a child prisoner, killing my mentor the only person who gave a damn about me, being a bloody Death Eater…Snape scowled, then pointed his wand at Wormtail.

"Mobilicorpus." Wormtail's dead weight floated behind Snape eerily as he ascended the stairs. Before closing the door, he stepped back and peered behind him, listening in the semi-darkness. His ears caught a faint scratching noise. Dismissing it as Wormtail's fellows, he continued up and out of the basement and into the kitchen.

After dropping Wormtail unceremoniously onto his kitchen floor, Snape took a shot glass down and opened up his trusty Firewhiskey. He briefly wondered why he bothered with the glass, then shrugged and poured. Despite the vicious rumours to the contrary, Snape was brought up well. Sure, he became a Death Eater, that doesn't mean that he will drink straight from the bottle!

Leaving with the glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, he went to his study. Why does the Dark Lord want Granger? She hasn't said a word about Harry since she began her stay here, (here he grimaced) and won't until the memory charm wears off. Perhaps it's just to rattle the boy's chain. His hero-complex will get him killed one of these days. Insufferable Gryffindors. Snape downed a fourth shot, seemingly unaware that he had had the first few. I can't let her become another one of the little playthings that Lucius used to have. Comprehension dawned upon him.

"He doesn't expect me to fuck a student, does he!" he thought aloud, slightly slurring due to the amount of alcohol he'd imbibed already.

One of the things Snape hated most about being a Death Eater, besides having to bow before a snake-like madman while pretending to support his insane ideals, was the expectation that he would be a part of the rape and murder of innocent people. It was bad enough when they were magical, but the Muggles couldn't even defend themselves. The thought of his past deeds made him gulp down another shot, the alcohol burning its way down his throat. At least most times he was exempt from the "fun", as Lucius put it, due to his presence being needed at Hogwarts.

After finishing off the rest of the bottle, he staggered up to his bedroom, leaving Wormtail on the kitchen floor still unconscious.

• • •

As the grey light of dawn touched the windows of the Burrow, Ron was still awake. He figured if he couldn't sleep, he might as well plan for the next step. Seven years of being around Harry and Hermione had taught him something: plans might not work out properly, but no plan at all can get you killed. Plus, there was chess to consider. If you don't have a plan, you can lose pretty quickly.

He moved from the window and to his trunk. It was half-open, with school clothes still practically spilling out. He rooted around for a while for a quill and parchment, then sat on his bed and started writing. He meant it to be battle plans, but it turned out to be something else entirely:

Hey Hermione,

I'm sorry I got you into this. Well, you wouldn't have let me and Harry (he paused and frowned; she would point out that it would be grammatically correct for him to say "Harry and I", but shrugged and moved on as always) go into danger without a level headed person to keep us from doing something even stupider than usual. Gods, I miss you. I'm not very poetic, and I haven't read anywhere near as many books as you, but I once read something that stuck with me: "The course of true love never did run smooth". (I remember you telling me to read that guy's plays). Things aren't very good right now. I don't know where you are, I don't know if you're safe, I don't know if you're hurt or if you need me… but I do know you're alive. I love you so much, Hermione. If you ever get When you get to read this, it might seem a little… unexpected, but... I can't live without you 'Mione. I don't want to try. So, when I find you, I'm going to ask you to marry me. It'll be hard, because I don't have much money, or brains, or anything to offer you but my love. I mean, if you don't want to, if it's too fast, I'll wait. I'd wait forever for you.

Love always,

Ron

Ron trailed off, his quill tickling his nose. He smiled, and then wrote at the bottom of the letter,

PS. Please say yes

He placed the letter to dry by the window, and went down to the kitchen to eat. He thought, Can't do any planning on an empty stomach, can I?

I wrote most of this under the influence of 2 hours sleep the night before, and being at 3 in the morning, it may not be fabulous. I had to get it out, however, or I'd consider myself abandoning you, which is inexcusable. It's not meant to be too much more than a bridge from one point to the next. I'm trying to build up Harry and Ginny's relationship while showing that Ron and Hermione's is pretty serious. Am I succeeding? Failing? Do you even care? Concrit or flames, all are reviews to me.