Chapter. 6

The Red baron

Hermione's notes: What happened in France exactly?

I see flashes of it, scraps of memories that don't make sense. Dead bodies. Blood. Harry doubled over on the ground in pain. 2 desperate pairs of sapphire eyes, looking to me, for what i'm not sure. Neville's there somewhere but I can't make out his face. I just hear his name being called over and over again.

Why did it end up that Ginny died?

The golden trio failed her i have to assume.

Why do you blame Harry for what's happened?

Isn't it all of our faults?

For not being smarter, braver, for not remaining loyal to one another?

.

.

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On the battlefield they called him the Red baron.

He was cruel, merciless, and hell bent on killing whoever was fool enough to stand in his path. The deadly efficiency of his spells was frightening to behold, or so Hermione was told. She'd never seen him in battle, not as her enemy.

He was given the name Red Baron from the muggles, they said he moved with the force of an entire airplane. He navigated battlefields with skill that most wizards twice his age didn't even possess. By himself the Red baron took down entire squads without ever breaking a sweat.

If Harry, and Hermione were the Order's best military assets, than Ron was certainly Voldemort's.

In school Ron had never once displayed the type of raw power he now possessed serving the Dark lord. When they were children Ron had been rather lazy. He hadn't cared about his marks in school, and he half assed only what he had to in order to move up a grade.

The war brought out an ambitious side of him Hermione supposed. Because lazy, and half assed were no longer words she would use to describe him.

It was unfortunate that Ron's full ambition didn't come to fruition until he decided to betray the Order. It was unfortunate he hadn't used his new found power against Voldemort.

How had he gone from plain Ron Weasley to the Red baron so quickly? When he defected it wasn't long before they started receiving intel on the devastation he was causing to their army. Hermione could hardly believe it was Ron.

Had Voldemort trained him that quickly? But that didn't feel right to Hermione. His fighting style, it was different than Voldemort's. She didn't think Ron had learned much from him at all.

Ron killed quickly, and as many as he could at once. Voldemort seemed to single people out, and take it slow. Voldemort liked to draw out the deaths of the Order's soldiers. Muggle or wizard.

After the battles concluded Hermione would often find herself part of their recovery team. She helped sort the bodies, they brought back. So they could be buried. But there weren't enough resources for all the bodies to come back, maybe half the people they lost would be recovered. The ones that didn't have family members to claim them were either put in mass graves, or simply left out in the elements. It had somehow fallen to Hermione to make the decision in many instances, what happened to the bodies. She had to tag them. Return to family. Mass grave. LTR. ( leave to rot )Sometimes by accident the recovery team brought back members of Voldemort's army. Those calls were easier for Hermione to make. The thought of his people rotting out in the open didn't bother her.

Harry blamed himself for the Red baron. Hermione did the same. Perhaps maybe it was both their faults. If not for their combined efforts, it was possible Ron wouldn't be half the threat he was.

Hermione sits opposite Ron in the tent that is also her prison. This is the first time they've been alone since Malfoy appeared yesterday.

Malfoy, and Fleur had both left earlier. Where they went she did not know, but Ron had said they were keeping up appearances for Voldemort for the time being. It made since she supposes why tip him off, that they weren't working for him anymore?

She hadn't expected Ron to speak to her after the unbreakable vow was made, but when they found themselves alone he had told her to take a seat. Between them is only a table.

"For now we'll be keeping you here. Eventually we will move to another location. Fleur, Draco or myself will be here with you at all times."

"What am i supposed to be doing now?" Were their orders just to keep her imprisoned, here? That seemed a great deal of wasted time to her. Ron had said she was of use to him, but she didn't know what that entailed exactly.

"Just keep breathing Hermione, and everything should turn out fine."

"Harry would say i'm being useless."

"Harry can have his own opinions."

"Did you take memories from Harry?" Harry had never given her reason to think she had gaps in her mind. So she assumed it was because he had them himself.

"No."

"But Harry never said-"

"Why would he? My guess is he thought you did it to yourself."

A nagging thought rears it's ugly head. One she had been having since Ron alleged that everything was Harry's fault. Could she trust Harry? Implicitly? Like she trusted him?

"You said i was of use, how did you mean?"

"When Draco was feeding you information for the Order, do you remember the potion he asked you to brew?"

"Yes."

"You need to start brewing it again."

"How much of it?" Hermione frowns.

"Just enough for 1 person."

"It's for Fleur then?" It wasn't hard to deduce, knowing what potion it is he is requesting her to make.

"Yes. She'll need it when she returns."

"So the repopulation decree." Even Fleur hadn't been spared from it.

"Who did she get stuck with?"

"Not your concern." He seems annoyed. Did it bother him that Fleur was forced to take a lover?

Ron pulls his wand out, and lights the tip of a cigarette. He sees her eyeing his wand.

"Don't even think of making a grab for it. That's a command."

That hadn't been why she was staring at his wand. She was staring at it because she was thinking of the Red baron, and the blood on his hands. The number of unforgivables that he had cast with that wand. She was wondering how on earth his eyes remained so clear and pure. How he still managed a patronus was a mystery to her. She knows he won't tell her, so she doesn't bother to mention it.

"You could have taken Fleur, you could have married her, instead of some random Death eater having her."

He laughs without humor.

"Aren't you bothered that she's being forced to share a bed with someone who isn't your brother?"

"I offered, to marry her."

"Oh."

Hermione doesn't have the right to be jealous of that. Ron had never shown much interest in her. Especially not like that. He danced with her once, but she was sure that had been to entertain Ginny more than anything. No she couldn't be jealous, because anything that was felt between them was one sided on Hermione's part alone.

"She had someone else in mind."

So was Fleur now one of the lucky ones, did she have a happy marriage? No that didn't make sense. If she was happy then what would she be doing helping Ron and Malfoy? Then the fact that she needed the potion, whoever she was married to it was clear she didn't want to carry their offspring.

There is an awkward silence.

When Hermione had first heard about the repopulation decree Voldemort had placed on his people, she had never been so glad to be a muggleborn.

Draco Malfoy's daughter had been one of the very first to be born out of the decree. Daphne Greengrass had been his betrothed since they were school children, and for them they were a rare coupling that had grown to love one another. Their marriage wasn't forced, it just came sooner than it might have if not for the war.

Most of the unions that came from the decree were unhappy. 2 people in an arranged marriage who were duty bound to procreate only for the sake of their Dark lord, it was no surprise that contraceptive potions became so widely demanded when they did.

1 drop of unicorn blood, a thimble full of aconite, a handful of dandelion roots, half of a fairy wing, and you had the solution to unwanted pregnancy.

As she watches Ron smoke his cigarette she's to curious for her own good, and her next question is harmless. She treads lightly afraid the tiniest misstep might ruin whatever this is.

"When did you start smoking? I don't remember you smoking before."

He smiles that smile, that tells her he knows so much more than she does.

"It's a nasty little habit i picked up from an old friend a couple years back, even though she's long gone now I can't seem to stop."

The way he says it. Hermione is certain. There is a longing in his words. Had Ron liked this woman, the one who he picked up smoking from? Probably some beautiful pureblood heiress. Then her train of thought is leading her to her next question.

"Who did the decree put you with?" It dawns on her that Ron could very well have been married to that woman at some point.

"I wasn't subject to it."

"But every-"

"I sterilized myself."

The admission is jarring to her.

"Because of the woman who smoked?" Had Ron done it so he wouldn't have to marry after he lost her? Had he loved her that much?

"No. I decided not to have children before the decree came. It was a happy coincidence my decision spared me from having to take part in the repopulation endeavor."

Did Hermione know who the mystery woman was at some point, would she be in her lost memories, did she play a part in Ron turning dark?

Hermione feels a bit bold. Ron has nothing to gain by sharing these things with her, yet he is. He's allowing her to see more vulnerable parts of himself. He hasn't been occluding, not once in the time they've been sitting together talking. If she can just manage to refrain from saying or doing the wrong thing, who knows what he might tell her. It's so nice to see him like this, like the old Ron.

Hermione sets her elbows up on the table, and after he takes his next drag she reaches up. Her finger tips just barely graze his lips as she takes his cigarette. It's like an electric current shoots through her, when she brings it to her own lips.

Hermione takes a slow savory drag, and she can't help the way her eyes linger on his mouth as she does it.

"Careful, it's more addicting than it looks."

His tongue glides across his bottom lip wetting it, and he's leaning closer across the table crowding her.

"I bet it is."

Are they still talking about smoking?

She blows a puff of vapor into his face he doesn't seem to mind.

Hermione is surprised to find how easy it is, smoking. Like she's some sort of expert. For her very first time, she doesn't feel the need to cough or wheeze once. It's like breathing.

It's wrong. Sinful, to want his hands on her. To desire him with every fiber of her being. She hates him, and he hates her. They are not fighting for the same cause. If they manage to end Voldemort, what would stop Ron from becoming the next Dark lord? By all of Hermione's estimates he's already well on his way to that.

She'd like to ask him about Neville. To tell him how awful he is for killing him. To beg him to tell her why he did it. But she already knows, he killed Neville because he was in the way. No one was safe. If someone stood in the way of whatever goals, plans, whatever orders Ron was acting on he would kill them. Even her. Especially her.

Why couldn't they just be strangers? Why did she have to have known him as anyone other than the Red baron? If the Red baron died she would be glad. If Ron Weasley perished- the thought is to painful to finish so she asks another question.

"Do you remember Christmas, at Hogwarts, the last one we had together?"

Ron is still close enough she could touch his cheek. He thinks for a moment like he's digging through his memories searching out the one she asked after. Then it seems he's found it. The smile on his face is so wide it makes his eyes crinkle. This amount of emotion, happy emotion on Ron's face, it's jolting. The cigarette falls from her between her fingers.

"Seamus had no business sitting so close to that tree, we all should have known he'd set it on fire sooner or later."

Ron's still grinning at her, and at the childhood memory. Then Draco Malfoy ducks back into the tent spoiling it. Ron turns his head to look at the other man. She can see the exact moment he throws his walls back up, his face is devoid of emotion. He occludes once again. That's when Hermione looks down.

To her horror the cigarette she had dropped is sitting atop Ron's left hand. It's singing into his flesh. A bloody black hole mars porcelain skin, and yet Ron has no reaction to it. Like he doesn't even feel it. He's asked Malfoy something, and she can't hear what because there's a ringing in her ears.

Dark magic. Her other self sing songs.

Ron turns back to her, following her eye line. He brushes the cigarette, and it's cinders off himself there is still no indication of the slightest bit of discomfort.

He rises from the table, and Hermione feels like someone casts another paralyzing curse on her.

"While i'm gone see that she's fed," Ron eyes her up and down, causing her to blush under his scrutiny. Did she imagine the double take over her legs? "find her something more than a shirt to wear. Fleur should be back soon, so make sure Hermione has the potion ready."

Ron goes over the cabinet Fleur had bothered herself with earlier and he pulls a stone basin from the bottom. He deposits it on the top of the counter, then pulls an empty vial from among the assortment of elixirs. The tip of his wand sits at his temple, and then he's pulling a long wispy strand from out of his head. He'd been storing her memories in his own head. If she weren't still in a stupor she might have been undignified by the invasion of her privacy. The memory is poured into the vial, and it swirls around behind the glass.

"When she's finished the brew, you can give her this." Ron tosses the bottle over to Malfoy, and he catches it with ease.

Malfoy gives her a weary look, like he's remembering her almost escape. He really didn't have to worry now though did he? Ron's unbreakable vow was absolute she had vowed not to raise a wand against anyone of the Malfoy nor Weasley houses. She however had not promised not to slug him again. It's like Ron reads her mind.

"I command you not to try to hit, or cause harm to Draco in any manner." Hermione pouts.

Damn that vow. It was very clever of Ron. He anticipated her every move before Malfoy shoved that stupid silver thimble on her. Before the portkey had even touched her Ron had prepared for her. The wards kept things out of this area of the forest, and Hermione couldn't call on her animagus within those same wards. He knew she might try to escape, Fleur had technically caused her to pause long enough she ended up caught. The vow shut down any further attempt she might have taken to escape. She had to listen to whatever Ron commanded of her now.

"How does it feel to be a prisoner, Kitty?" Malfoy conjures her something that looks questionable, but edible.

"How does it feel to be my glorified babysitter?"

Malfoy provides her with a look of contempt that only he could.

Hermione is ravenous, but she eats slow, shoveling in half spoonfuls as she watches Ron ready himself to depart.

"Where do you have to go?" She asks chewing another bite.

"Voldemort has summoned me to the ministry."

Was that bad? She decides it must be. Draco and Ron are having another one of their silent conversations. On the outside the only indication of their communication is the slight pull of their lips, and the movement of their eyes. Hermione knew mind reading was rare, but she could not explain it any other way. It wasn't legilimency. With legilimency you tap into a persons memories, but what Ron and Malfoy seem to be doing is conversing with one another in the actual moment. How useful it must be, to be able to speak to one another without anyone else realizing.

Just like that another mystery is added to the pile of confusion that is Ron. His patronus. His incapability to feel pain. How had he and Malfoy learned to read each others minds exactly?

Ron departs.

She takes any worry she might feel for his safety, and she chokes it down along with her tasteless food. She just keeps breathing.

Author's note/ Hi all! I will probably go to a schedule for releases soon since we have a few chapters together now. Please share your thoughts on the Red Baron, i've been watching way to many war movies lately and inspiration struck. This chapter was inspired by relient k- who i am hates who i've been. Thank you all so much for following along.