Chapter 20 - Crumbling

It had been a long few weeks. Food was limited and difficult to find, the weather was progressively worse, but what was causing the most challenge was a thin piece of gold chain and a heavy pendant attached to it.

Hermione regretted ever doubting that the locket could do so much as control emotions; it absolutely could. Her, Harry and Ron were all affected by it. Ron, worse than the other two. They took it in turns to wear it, much like they rotated shifts of keeping watch outside the tent. The locket was an awful thing, causing dark thoughts and emotions to rush to the forefront of Hermione's mind, and her heart. It hurt her to know that Ron and Harry were experiencing it, too. The voice was icy and shrill. As if Tom Riddle himself was speaking into her soul. Spouting words of horror, trying to degrade Hermione, accentuating all of her insecurities and more.

She did her best to ignore it, had even grown a sort of tolerance towards it. Every time the gold metal beeted like a heart against her own, Hermione braced herself for the words of spite, welcoming them almost. The same couldn't be said for Ron, who didn't seem to be able to deal with the Horcrux's influences in the slightest.

It affected his whole mood and demeanour. Before this, Ron had been the backbone of their morale, the light in both Harry and Hermione's lives. He used to be the positive shine, pushing them not to give up. He used to remind them that there was still good in the world, that not all was lost and could all be found again. He used to be Hermione's anchor, holding and supporting her but that wasn't the case anymore.

She supposed it was selfish of her to think of it as if it was his responsibility to keep her happy, push away the dark thoughts. But Hermione had never expected that, all she wanted was for them all to be able to get on with each other during this hunt. Lord knew that they could each argue with the other over anything, but they were best friends all the same. Perhaps it was rather far-fetched for her to assume they'd remain harmonious during this mission, especially with the weight of the locket that ate at each of them.

Ron was the worst of the three of them, he would become not only snappy, but mean when he wore the article. It was as though Hermione couldn't recognise him when he acted like this; two thirds of the day he was the same old pleasant Ron, but when he wore the locket, his crystal eyes became dark, much like the skin around them. He would be easily agitated, but that didn't stop him from agitating others.

"Could you please stop that, Ron?" Hermione asked, trying her hardest to keep her voice calm as the flash of dark gold met her eyes from his chest. Ron was slouched on the sofa playing with the deluminator placed lazily in his hand.

"Why? So you can read a bloody children's book? Surely you can put the fucking thing down for two minutes?" Ron snapped back. Maybe he would have regretted his words, but in the moment he was ignoring any sense of logic.

Hermione looked away, a lump rose in her throat. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that-" Ron scoffed, her patience was wearing thin with her energy. "-because I know that you're not you with that locket."

"Yes I am!" Ron snapped defensively.

This hurt Hermione more. "Oh, so you mean what you said, then?" She asked sadly but with indignation.

"Well - no - but-"

"Why don't you work on your answer and come back to me once you can speak to me like a person, and not a punchbag." Hermione hadn't intended for this to turn into an argument, but she had had enough, even if he wasn't himself, he should still be able to exhibit some sort of self control. Like she had, like Harry had.

Ron didn't appreciate being spoken to like a child in the slightest, so got off of the sofa and stormed out of the tent, huffing at Hermione before turning without a word.

Hermione tried not to let her eye-stinging tears bother her too much as she watched him leave the tent. He did this a lot, needing time to cool off. But Hermione was becoming rather frustrated with the way he thought he could get off scot-free after speaking to her that way. Biting back even more tears, Hermione made her way to the bunkroom. She could hear Harry's shower turn off and didn't want him to see that they had argued again, if it wasn't already obvious.

Ron kicked a stone outside in anger, the last few days here were hell. They were getting nowhere, just apparating and disapparating to random locations, they hadn't found a Horcrux and they hadn't the slightest idea of where one could be. Bloody Dumbledore had left them nothing but three random items that couldn't help them in the slightest. Even that sodding book, which Hermione was obsessed with reading. A child's book, as matter of fact. He thought it was pointless especially considering she had already read it about a million times at Grimmauld Place.

Grimmauld Place. It felt like years had passed since he had last visited the old house, when in reality it had been no longer than a month. Things were different then; he and Hermione used to hold hands every single night to fall asleep, without fail. And now, all he seemed to do was hurt her. He couldn't help it, it was as if he had something in his ear spurring him on to make her angry, upset even. He hated it. A storm constantly raged in his mind, but he wasn't able to tell that it only happened when he wore the locket. He loved Hermione, with every inch of him, but that was why he was being such a prat, subconsciously pushing her away. She deserved better, it didn't take a genius to work that much out. She'd just be better off without him - of course these were all things that Ron was very helpfully reminded of by this random voice that rang through his head. He sagged down along a tree, closing his eyes and allowing the voice to bellow threw his mind.

'Why on earth would she want anything to do with you? You're deluding yourself, Ronald Weasley. Do you really think if you ever make it out of this war alive, that she would choose you over all of the thousands of much better, much richer wizards that could provide a better life for her. You couldn't possibly think she'd settle for you, when The-'

Ron opened his eyes and threw the locket off, clasping it in his hand. Tears were pricking his eyes as he replayed the alarmingly true words that poured from whatever it was that was terrorising him.

He rubbed his forehead as he realised how much of a dickhead he had been towards Hermione. He couldn't even believe he had said what he had, none of it was true. She didn't deserve this, she didn't deserve to be left with him and his bloody mood swings. A lump formed in his throat as he envisioned how upset she must've been when he had stormed off. He hated how he could evoke such upset in her, why did she even bloody listen to him? Why did anything he said matter to her in the slightest? He hated it and most of all he hated himself.

Needing to clear his head, before he even contemplated going back to Hermione, Ron started walking towards the protective threshold. Yeah, it was probably be a stupid thing to be doing, Hermione would rage. But then again, he had given her enough to be angry about anyway; why would she even care if he sodded off right now. Why should she? Trying his best to exhale the tumultuous thoughts tormenting his mind, Ron broke through the charms. He wouldn't go far, not that anyone would ever bloody find them here, but he just needed to clear his head.

Hermione was sitting up in her bunk, folding her clothes with a tad more aggression than necessary. She, too, was thinking back to Grimmauld Place and how things between her and Ron had been so different. Now, if they even saw each other at night, they barely muttered 'good nights' to one another before turning away from each other. But because of the shifts to keep watch outside of the tent, they rarely were in the bunkroom together.

Night was dawning, and as far as she could tell he hadn't come back from his strop yet. Hermione didn't care, of course, her only concern was that he was on second watch tonight after Harry so if he didn't get enough sleep now, he wouldn't be able to keep himself awake later. Her only concern.

Her musings broke however as she heard the zip undo, she sat up straighter with apprehension only to be greeted by Harry. Who she wasn't quite so nervous about seeing.

Frustration getting the better of her, Hermione asked, "oh, where on earth has he gone?!"

"Ron? I thought he had gone to bed?" Harry asked with a perplexed look. Hermione hadn't exactly told him that she and Ron had had a falling out but he could tell something was off.

Hermione's stomach dropped once she heard Harry's response. Not again, how is he putting me through this again? She thought.

Her anxiety was, thankfully, quickly terminated as both her and Harry jumped at the familiar sound of a zip. Harry peered through the gap in the tent wall. "It's him," he assured, and Hermione quickly heard the shower begin, she felt pure relief - even if she was still angry with him for so many more reasons. Where was he? What on earth was he doing?

Grabbing a jumper from his bunk, Harry turned back towards the main sector of the tent. "Good night."

"Good night, Harry." Hermione said absently as she put her clothes away, retreating to lying down on her bunk, facing away from Ron's.

She stared at the blank wall, unable to find sleep. The only sound of the tent was that of rushing water, which stopped abruptly. Hermione tensed slightly as she heard footsteps traipsing towards the bunk room. She snapped her eyes shut, glad to be facing the wall; she was in no mood for an empty apology.

And in he came. Hermione tried her best to look sound asleep as she heard him walk towards her bunk. Although, she didn't have to worry about that for long, as the sound of Ron getting changed nearly startled her. Her treacherous body almost tingled at the thought of a naked Ron as he dressed, but she suppressed those thoughts.

Satisfied that he had climbed into his own bed, Hermione, as stealthily as she could, pretended to turn in her sleep. She let her eyes open slightly and when she was happy that he had turned over to face the canvas wall, she opened them fully. Hermione's brows furrowed at what was left on her pillow, there was a bouquet of flowers. Her favourite flowers. But, she couldn't even remember telling Ron what her favourite flowers were. She, as soundlessly as possible, picked up the bouquet, cringing at the rustling of the plastic. Luckily, Ron didn't make the slightest move.

Hermione inhaled the floral scent, before shaking her head at herself, him, and their situation. They were in the midst of a war, it wasn't going to be sunshine and rainbows. But the point was that Ron and Hermione needed each other, needed to stick together. There was no time for these squabbles. They needed to communicate.

Unable to help herself, she called, "Ron, are you still awake?"

Ron turned hesitantly at her voice, preparing himself for the worst. He knew she was only feigning sleep when he came in which hurt him, but only made him realise more how much of a twat he had been.

"Yeah." He replied weakly.

Hermione studied him for a moment. "Come here." She said in a small, soft voice, mirroring the short yet effective words he had used on the Gryffindor sofa, the night of Dumbledore's funeral.

"Sorry?" Ron wasn't sure he had heard her properly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at being made to say the bold words again. "Come. Here." She said as clear as day, leaving him no excuse to have not heard her.

Ron tentatively got out of his bunk and knelt beside hers. "Are you okay?" He asked concernedly.

"Yes, and I meant up here." Hermione patted the space on the bed beside her.

Ron considered her for a moment, his eyes wide with nerves. Two months ago he would've quite happily and confidently hopped beside her, but the way he had been acting he wasn't too sure. He shook his head as he looked to the floor with shame.

"Thank you for the flowers." Hermione all but whispered, a lump in her throat as he turned her down.

"You shouldn't thank me, Hermione."

"Ron-" Hermione tentatively touched his face so he would look at her. The self hatred in his voice breaking her heart.

"I'm so, so sorry, Hermione. You don't deserve this, deserve me." Ron admitted, gently holding the wrist of the hand that was stroking his face.

"Ron, I- we're all just so agitated at the moment, it's hard for all of us-"

"Don't, don't justify me hurting you." Ron shook his head again. "I hurt you, Hermione. I'm constantly bloody hurting you."

"No, Ron, I know about the locket. It does it to all of us."

"What does it say to you?" Ron's eyes snapped up to Hermione's.

"Nothing that can hurt me, Ron." Hermione's words only felt like condescension to Ron. The supposed words from the locket tore him apart, yet Hermione was able to deal with it. Didn't that just further illustrate how unworthy of her he was? He brought himself back to the situation at hand.

"I hurt you, though." He said more firmly.

Hermione shook her head. "We argue, Ron. We always have."

"Why are you trying so hard, Hermione? I was a fucking dick to you."

"How can you say that, Ron?" Hermione's brows furrowed, what was he doing? "I care about you, that's why I'm trying." Tears started to blur her vision.

Ron's heart pained at her constricted voice. He sought immediately to relieve it. "I hate how easily I can hurt you, Hermione." He said, wiping the falling tears away.

"I know you don't mean it, Ron." Hermione uttered through a sob.

"I don't mean it, Hermione, anything. I was just angry." Ron confessed, sitting properly on his knees so he could hug her.

Hermione crashed into Ron, crying into his shoulder. She had missed him so much, but maybe this could be a turning point.

"Please don't say those things in the future." Hermione whispered as she gained more composure.

Ron pulled away slightly to look at her, smoothing hair away from her face. "Say what?"

"That you can so easily hurt me. It's not you, Ron. It's the locket. You can't help it."

Ron didn't like the way she had insinuated that he was incapable to stay in control of himself, and that the locket was causing him to act differently. Ron did his fair bit of overthinking in his life, and this was a perfect example. Why did she only say that he couldn't help it? Both her and Harry wore it as much as he did, was it just expected of them to be able to hold their tongue? Or did they both just expect for him to be most easily influenced? Either way, he wasn't pleased.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked, his silence making her feel cautious even though he wasn't wearing the locket.

Ron snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at her worried expression. It was almost a frightened one. He loathed it and wished for it to be gone the moment he registered it.

Putting on his warmest smile, he lied, "everything's fine." He stroked her face again. "I'm just so sorry that I upset you." At least that much was true.

"I know you have second watch tonight, but will you stay here with me?" Hermione asked.

"Of course." Ron nodded, hugging her again, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. He was exhausted.

"Oh and by the way: I know you must've broken through the wards, which was incredibly dangerous of you. But I must say, the flowers are beautiful." Hermione commented in order to lighten the mood.

"They are your favourites, though, right?"

"Yes, how did you know which ones were my favourite?" Hermione enquired.

"Believe it or not, I do listen half the time," Ron smirked.

Hermione laughed, "you're a brilliant listener, Ron. I just don't remember telling you."

"I do; we were at the lake before, y'know, everything.." Ron began. "And I was talking about all of Mum's flowers and her bloody obsession with growing every flower breed out there, and you, naturally, admonished me before telling me which one was your favourite."

Hermione smiled brightly and sweetly at him. "You know, you're making 'staying friends' very difficult." She said wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Says you! Wearing my top even when you're angry at me." Ron chuckled, trailing his fingers up her side.

Hermione blushed. It was true; she was in his Chudley Cannons t-shirt. She must have been too annoyed to realise what she was wearing. Her body warmed instantly at his touch.

"Please just come into this bed with me." Hermione almost pleaded.

"Don't have to tell me twice." Ron yawned, standing up to move into her bed. Without a moment's contemplation, Hermione nestled into his side, Ron wrapping his arm around her.

"I've missed you." Hermione sighed contentedly.

Ron, once again, disliked her tone. He hadn't gone anywhere, just because he could be a dick didn't mean he had changed or anything. He wouldn't say anything now, though.

"Mm," he mumbled, noncommittally.

Hermione, too, was wary of Ron's tone. Had she said something wrong? Or was he just in a mood again?

Despite their - what Hermione thought was a peak in their communication the other night - and continuous nights of sharing sleep, Hermione was only becoming more annoyed and less patient with Ron's worsening moods and outbursts. He'd complain about the lack of food. He'd complain about the lack of hot water. He seemed to especially enjoy complaining about the lack of progress they had made. In fact, the only time that Ron wasn't moaning or grizzling was when he was listening to his wireless.

It was the only time Hermione felt genuine sympathy towards him, he wasn't just listening to it as a pastime. He was listening to ensure he didn't hear any bad news about his family. Harry, however, didn't seem to understand why that would soothe someone and even though Hermione didn't think she would take that approach either, she still felt sorry for Ron. He had a much larger, much more endangered family than she did. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye to his mum and dad. For hours he would listen to Potterwatch while she and Harry did some more work. This annoyed Harry greatly, and was starting to grate on Hermione, too.

When she looked up into those once bright blue orbs that were now gloomy and dark, Hermione felt somehow estranged from him. As if they were never really as close as she thought. Naturally, it caused her to act coldly towards him, in return, without even thinking about it.

Ron would start bickers with her over the smallest of things, things that she had no control over. It hurt her that he placed so much responsibility and weight upon her shoulders, she could do no right no matter how hard she was trying.

As much as she loved Ron, he was losing her trust. He would bring up her insecurities very quickly when they had a spat, which caused Hermione to question if he had ever been as 'amazing' as she once thought. Did he ever learn to respect her? Had she been misled all this time? Was she a complete and utter fool to ever trust that Ron Weasley could ever feel anything more than mere tolerance towards her?

Hermione tried to shake off these thoughts, they were all induced by the locket, which seemed to be gaining a stronger hold on the three of them. Tears streamed down her face as the locket continued to whisper her fears about Ron into her ear.

'He's only using you for your intelligence, Hermione Granger. You couldn't possibly have thought that he had ever truly cared about you? And as far as the attraction you've deluded yourself to believe he has for you, haven't you thought about the fact he is a teenage boy and you are just the nearest thing to him with a pulse?

He cares not, and he absolutely loves not. You are making yourself look like a fool, why on earth would someone of pure blood status ever lower themselves to the pitiful level that holds you with the rest of the Mudbloods.'

Hermione snapped her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the words that inflicted more tears. This wasn't fair on Ron, these things weren't true and it was disrespectful for her to be indulging in them. Ron would never care about something so shallow such as blood status, he was a much kinder person than that.

She walked back into the tent, it was about four o'clock in the morning and time for Harry to take over the watch. When she entered the bunkroom, she wasn't surprised to find Ron in her bunk instead of his own, which was practically now being used as a wardrobe.

Not wanting to wake him, Hermione changed quickly and slipped in beside him. She turned to face away from him, however, in case he did wake up and saw her tears. She trusted the only reason that Harry said nothing was because it was too dark for him to tell in his half-drowsy state, but she feared that Ron would be able to tell from their closeness just how upset she really was.

Thinking about the awful locket which she handed to Harry, Hermione barely even noticed Ron shift onto his other side.

Ron tried not to feel hurt by the fact that Hermione was essentially falling off of the bed by being so close to the edge, or the fact that she had turned away so not to face him. She had been like this lately; distant and cold, they only really spoke pleasantly to each other at nights which didn't last long as either one would be on watch or asleep.

This only brought more uncertainty to his already chaotic thoughts, fuelled by the mysterious shouting in his ears that was still mentally abusing him.

Trying to block out these thoughts best he could, he snuggled closer to Hermione and draped an arm over her. Unhappy that she jumped at his touch.

Hermione was so lost in her own thoughts that it caught her off guard when Ron came up closer to her. She didn't say anything for a moment, she had no idea what mood he was in and until she gauged that, there really was no point in trying to speak to him.

"You're freezing!" Ron noted from behind her, and yanked the blanket so it was mostly over her. "Do you need a jumper or something?" He sat up and Hermione turned to face him, love rushing back to her as she watched the concern he had for her.

"No, thanks. It's fine. Just come back please?" She asked timidly. Ron slinked back down onto the bed and she took this as an opportunity to become closer to him. She took up the familiar position of resting her head on his shoulder while her hand danced slow circles upon his chest. Ron pulled her in and trailed his fingers up and down her back which caused Hermione to shiver, and not due to the fact it was cold. This was the person she loved. And she couldn't quite understand how he could change so quickly, and so massively.

A/N - I'm not in love with this chapter can't lie, and I know it's quite different to how things canonly unfolded, but... I don't really have an excuse we'll just have to see how it goes hehe.