Eye For An Eye: Part I: Ron and Hermione

Disclaimer: Characters from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters belong to ladykyo and the separatesisters.

NOTE: This story will jump around from pov to pov, so I'll let you know whose pov is being used at the start of each new section/ where the povs change.

ladykyo

Chapter 4: … doesn't necessarily stay or end in 2nd-year

Ron's pov

I heard someone in the upper levels of the castle I called home for the moment. I sent my thought out and found that it was still mid-day. That was strange. Never have I wakened in the middle of the day, not since I made my bargain with her. The warrior maker.

Scáthach. The Amazon-descended warrior woman.

When I made the mistake of claiming I'd side with Morrígan to get Gin back, I won the favor and attention of Scáthach and her master, Dôn. They would train me, help me gain my revenge, and all for a small price: I would help them beat back the children of Morrígan. Brigit seemed to have turned her back on the people, and Dôn was the last one to stand against her. Llyr, the most basic enemy of Dôn, had taken Morrígan's side. But when we made the agreement, no one told us what it would entail, or how long our near-enslavement would last.

The years piled on, and I grew to dread the light of day. More time passed, and the sunlight became my enemy: I burned easily, and my eyes watered even in the end of twilight. I was quickly becoming the monster who tread only the night. Harold had stayed with me, but as time passed and he could not even spend the dawn in the sun's gentlest embrace, the time he and Gin had cherished in their short time together, he grew distant and he left, leaving me to feel out the new abilities and the search for a way to undo the bond between us and the Dôn. I gave up on finding any companionship with anyone; Harold was gone, and I didn't ever hear about the Dôn making any others like us. It was a lonely existence.

Until night fell the day she came to my castle.

Hermione's pov

The castle was out of the way, and a veritable treasure trove of ancient magical knowledge. It didn't seem like it at first, but I would find answers there. Just not how I'd imagined them.

It was one of my precious days off that I found the castle. It was an old stronghold, once held by the Anglo-Saxons. According to muggle history, that is; I did research, using my clearance as an Auror, and found that it had been used even back in the 5th century, when we were all trying to force the Romans back. The castle was beautiful, old and somewhat downtrodden, but its beauty was undeniable in the way that knowledge is beautiful. It never looks like much on the outside, but it's what you learn that makes you see it as perfect.

I arrived there early, not even seven o'clock on a sunny September day. My birthday was approaching, but I knew once I saw Wicklow Castle that I would not be leaving this place, not even for my birthday. Besides, I was already of wizarding age, having turned seventeen the beginning of my seventh year at Hogwart's. I would be a fool to leave a find like this behind, anyways.

I worked throughout the day, eating a sandwich I had the foresight to pack before I went exploring. I never got tired, which should have told me something, but I was devouring the old books and journals I found in the ancient study. Funnily enough, it seemed as if someone had resided there until recently, perhaps the 19th century. It was foolish to believe that; according to local history, the castle had been uninhabited and supposedly haunted since the last lord, a Ronald who did not come from muggle royalty had lived there. One day, he was watching over his servants, keeping a castle in hold for a lady the locals never knew, the next he had disappeared. His servants had kept working, hoping for his return until a creature of the night scared them away. Ever since then, no one had ventured into the castle, not event to loot it. It was said that the specters of the warriors who died defending the castle roamed it day and night, and that they would kill any who defied the warnings and intruded on their after-life.

The more I read, the more it felt as if someone was guiding my hands and my mind, putting the right books and writings in front of me, or directing me to a hidden room or document. It was hours before the words began to blur on the pages, but blur they did. Before I knew it, I had dozed off.

It was well after dark when a handsome red-headed man woke me. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with shaggy red hair, lean muscle cutting his frame, perfect lips, and the most beautiful, almost hope-filled eyes I had ever seen. I scrabbled back in my chair and began apologizing fiercely.

"I'm so sorry! I was told that no one lived here. I didn't steal anything, I just read things and I'm a witch and you're beautiful and I'm Hermione and my chest feels heavier than ever before," the words came out in a rush, and it wasn't until he chuckled and spoke in a hasty voice that I realized all I had said. If he were a muggle, I'd have to cast a memory charm on him and hope for the best. I told him he was beautiful, my name, and I mentioned the heaviness for the first time since Luna disappeared.

Warm, strong hands pulled me to my feet, right out of my chair. "A pleasure to meet you, 'Mione. Thank you for the compliment, I don't believe I've been called beautiful before. I'm a wizard, so no need to worry. Why is your chest heavier than ever? You're beautiful, too. The name's Rona Ron," he finished, his voice confirming the hope I saw in his eyes, and I was relieved to hear that he was flustered, too. He thought I was beautiful?

"Sorry to invade your castle, sir. And no need to worry about the heaviness. It's just one of my 'quirks'. You're a wizard?"

"Yes, I am," he said, and he had a thick brogue that began to melt my insides. He looked from my eyes to the candles that hadn't noticed before. He concentrated, and with a look of consternation, he lit them just by looking at them. My mouth was hanging open, which he must have taken for appreciation, for he then looked at my bag on the floor and lifted it off of the floor with his thought.

"You're like Pia and me! And you look just like Gin," I said with relief. Perhaps he was one of Ginny's cousins.

"You know Gin!" Ron sounded so happy, I thought he'd dance.

"Yeah, she just turned seventeen, and she's taking the Aurors' exams early. I'm so proud of her. But, as you would already know, Ginny's an only child, and her parents are gone, lost in a battle when she was only fourteen winters," I stopped and put a hand to my mouth. "Excuse, me, what an archaic turn of phrase. She was just fourteen years old when they were killed. Are you her cousin?"

Ron's face fell, and I felt my heart speed up. I wanted to make him smile again, make him smile like he did before, but just for me. He shot me a wicked look and slipped a smile back onto his face.

"Must be a different Gin, then," Ron said quietly. I nodded and began gathering my things. He stopped me simply by lifting my bag out of my reach. "Leaving so soon?"

Ron's pov

She was perfect. And that means that she must be the salvation that Scáthach had promised me. I had to find Harold, let him know that salvation did exist, try to get him to live again, to find his own girl.

But for now, I had Hermione all to myself. Time to get know one another.