Disclaimer: See last chapters.
Ron looked down at the photograph he held in his hands, large tears dropping onto the photograph as Hermione waved and smiled at him. He shook his head, sniffing and wiping away the tears that seemed to have a permanent mark on his face since Hermione had left him months ago.
He bit down on his lower lip, closing his eyes as he wondered what was happening to her right now, if she was still alive. He wasn't sure which was worse – her being dead, lost forever or her being at the hands of a death eater. He shuddered at both thoughts, neither was worse, both of them were never supposed to happen – not to her, not to his Hermione.
"Can I come in?" He looked up to see the black haired boy walking into the bedroom they shared, he noticed his red eyes and the dark circles and he nodded slowly. He knew he understood how he felt, that Harry was just as upset as he was.
"That's a beautiful photograph.." He pointed at it and smiled a little as Ron nodded and traced Hermione's face as she beamed at the camera, and at him. "It was taken a few weeks before.. before we left.." He trailed off and closed his eyes, not even wanting to think about that night. He kept wondering what he could have done, what he should have done – if he had been ten minutes earlier, if he had made sure she didn't leave his side, she might still be here with him.
He sighed, shaking his head as more and more tears fell down his face, he wanted to wipe them away as he shrugged off Harry's hand on his shoulder, sighing. "You know this isn't your fault, right?" Harry raised an eyebrow, sitting next to him as he shook his head, looking up at the photograph once more.
"I just keep thinking about that night and how I could have done something different, I could have saved her..." He shook his head as Harry put his hand on his shoulder, "There was nothing you could have done, and there is nothing we can do right now to change it. Nobody blames you and I know for a fact that Hermione would never even think about blaming you."
"I guess.." He muttered, looking at the photograph again – her hair moved when the wind hit it and she was smiling, hugging Ron as he grinned at the camera. He smiled when he thought about their almost-kiss after the flash had gone off, both of them just standing there for a while in each other's arms, happy to be alone together. He wondered if it would ever be like that again, if she would ever return into his arms, if he could ever feel his lips on hers and if he would ever look into her eyes. He wondered if he would be able to tell her he loved her, and if he would hear her say those three words back.
Harry bit down on his lip, not being able to share his own guilt with the broken Ron, he watched his best friend crumble, the boy he had known this time last year being just a mere shadow of the boy that was sitting next to him right now. His broken exterior, nothing compared to the grief and guilt he was feeling on the inside.
He wondered if Ron would ever come back, or – like Hermione – he was gone, possibly forever. He shook the thought off as quickly as it come, Hermione wasn't gone, Hermione could walk through the doors one day and they'd all be able to hold her in their arms, telling her how much they missed her.
He laughed a little at the thought, thinking about all of their reactions, he'd feel guilty and would pretend like he knew she was fine all along. "What's so funny?" Ron glared at him, looking at Harry, "I was just thinking about Hermione, and if she walked in right now – how I would have reacted." Ron nodded,
"I'd run up to her and take her in my arms and promise I'd never pretend I never loved her again, and I'd never act like a jerk.. and then I would kiss her and tell her how much I missed her and how I much I love her.." Tears fell down his pale face as he thought about it, taking a deep breath, "And then I would make sure I never let her out of my sight ever again." He sighed, looking at the photograph, bringing it to his lips. He promised her in his head that he'd never let her go if she came back to him.
~ .. ~
Hermione shuddered as he walked over to her, his hand lightly grazing her pale cheek as he grinned. She shook her head and looked over at Draco, not knowing what was going to happen to her today. She'd been there for over a week now and after her last 'meeting' with the master, she had been stuck in the cell on her own for three days with nothing and nobody. She looked down at the floor, tears stinging her lifeless eyes as she thought about Ron, wondering if she could ever be in his arms again.
"You can start by cleaning this whole room." He looked around the room she had been dragged to, the huge room seemed so daunting to clean, and she didn't see why they couldn't do it with their wands. She nodded slowly, waiting for his command, making sure to do everything by the rules.
"Hand her the toothbrush.." He muttered to one of the men behind him, who nodded and handed her a small toothbrush, she looked up at him, the shock clear on her face ans then opened her mouth to say something before Draco shook his head and glared at her.
"Yes.. Master.." She whispered, bowing her head a little. She hated everything about this but she wanted to live and she had to live, for.. for Ron.
"Good girl.." He patted her on the head like a dog, as Hermione bit down as hard as she could on her lip, willing herself to stop the sly comment that wanted to bad to come out from her mouth.
"I will be back in exactly eight hours," He motioned for everyone else to follow him out of the room, as Hermione grabbed the bucket of soap and water he had left behind for her and dropped down onto her knees, sighing as she muttered to herself about pathetic men before scrubbing as hard as she could on the cold, wooden floor.
She knew there was no way she could get the whole place down in eight hours, the room was too big and the toothbrush was too small. She heaved a deep sigh, wondering if she could cry enough tears to wash the whole place clean, shuddering because she knew that it could be true.
Draco sighed as he watched her through a small gap in the door, the tears falling down her face as they landed on the floor beneath her as she tried her best to follow the ridiculous orders. He wished his father wouldn't be so hard on her, she was only seventeen after all but he knew this would be nothing compared to what she had coming. She would want this when the master was done with her – and to be honest, that was what scared him the most.
Hermione shook her head when the eight hours were up, the doors opening a lot sooner than she had realized. She stood up quickly, slightly bowing to him as he looked around the room. She bit down on her lip, as he stared at the clean floor, a small smile on her face. "You have done well." She looked over at Draco as he nodded a little, the master walking over to her and pushing a strand of hair from her face.
She tried to smile at him – remembering everything Draco told her – as he leaned towards her and gently but firmly placed his lips upon hers. She fought back the tears, knowing they would come later on when she was alone and somewhat safe in her cell. Tears were not to be shown to him, tears would never go unpunished.
"Take her back to her cell," He muttered to someone behind him, glaring at her as she bowed one more and muttered 'master' before someone roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the door. She knew that worse would come, Draco had warned her of that much – but she had no idea what to expect from the man she hated so much.
The tears came the moment the doors were closed, falling heavily down her face as she crawled to the darkest corner of the tiny cell and curled up into a tiny, tight ball. Hot tears ran down her pale face as she bit down hard on her lip, digging her nails in deep into her exposed knees, banging her head softly on the wall.
She was careful not to make a sound but when the sobs overtook her whole body, she knew she couldn't control it anymore. The tears wouldn't stop as she clamped a hand to her mouth, telling herself the rules.
She ignored the stabbing pains of starvation.
She ignored the dry throat from dehydration.
She ignored the tears as they dripped down her face.
She ignored the blood dripping down her lip from the wound her nails just caused.
She ignored the sounds of her muffled sobs.
She ignored the laughter coming from above her.
She ignored everything because she knew that one day, and one day soon, this would be the room she was going to die in – and that was the only thing she couldn't ignore.