Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K Rowling does.

Chapter Two

Separated

Soreness. That was the first thing Ron noticed when he woke up. His whole body screamed out in protest as he tried to sit up, and he instantly gave up and landed back on the bed. He closed his eyes and laid there for a minute, trying to find the strength to move his body again without feeling like utter death. If he didn't know any better, he would think he had been run over by a car while he was asleep. Yet, that was impossible. But how come pain shot through him every time he moved a single muscle? Opening his eyes, Ron groaned as he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position on his bed.

This wasn't his room.

Nor was it the room in Shell Cottage.

It especially wasn't the one in the tent.

Ron blinked twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Could the pain make him hallucinate? But surely not; it wasn't that bad. The red-haired wizard took in the little square room, whose bare walls were a plain brown color with only one window that had curtains pulled over it to block out the sun streaming through. A dresser lined the wall to the right of him and a nightstand stood beside the bed. Where the hell was he and how did he get here?

"Shit!" he gasped out in the quiet of the room. Memories of the battle hit him out of nowhere, taking over his mind. He remembered Harry lying limp in Hagrid's arms, Fred dying, Remus and Tonks' bodies, Hermione making him promise to stay with her. Then a girl dragging him away, telling him nonsense. He didn't know what happened after that. There was just blackness, and no matter how hard he tried to recall the lost memories, none came. He breathed in and out deeply, livid at both himself and the girl who caught him.

"Awake already?"

Ron's head snapped up to where the voice came from. His hands scrambled around to find his wand as he saw the same girl from before standing in the doorway. But they came back empty. Where did they put his wand? Ron only saw red and he jumped from the bed like lightning, ignoring the pain.

"Where's my wand?" he snarled. "And my family and Hermione? I swear, if you did anything to hurt them, I'll kill you." He was in her face, towering over her. The girl merely stared back, unflinchingly, with a gaze much like his mom had when trying to get the kids to do what they were told. But no matter how unnerving that stare could get, Ron held his ground.

"Tell me where they are!"

The girl—Anya as Ron recalled—didn't even blink. "Your wand is currently somewhere safe. I'm sorry but we figured it was better if you didn't have it when you woke up, just in case you acted how you're acting now." She smiled faintly as if mocking him. Ron scowled but before he even had the time to open his mouth, she continued. "And as for your family and… Hermione? We don't know. But we can do our best to try to see if it's possible to check if they're alright."

"You think because you have a pretty face and look innocent, I'll just believe you and go with whatever lies you tell me?" said Ron. Anger crawled at every word, and his heart raced with the fury that burned within him. Stupid Death Eaters. Damn them all to Hell. Ron felt his hands shaking at his sides and he curled them into fists. "My best friend and brother and so many other people are dead at the hands of your people. I'm not stupid!"

Out of nowhere Ron was on his back on the floor, with Anya on top of him pinning down his legs and arms. Blonde hair fall around her face and her grey eyes were narrowed. "And I'm not some pretty face or just an innocent girl. We're not the bad guys and we're not on You-Know-Who's side. If you would just trust us, you will see that."

"You know, acting like this doesn't help your case," Ron wheezed out. He tried pushing her off but he was too sore and she was too strong.

A laugh came from above them. Great. Someone was watching him being pinned down by a girl. "He's right, Anya," a male voice said. "Beating someone up isn't a way to gain allies."

Anya huffed, but got off Ron. "Sorry," she muttered and the man who had spoken held out a hand for Ron. Ron looked at it hesitantly but took it anyway since the pain was too much for him to be able to get up by himself.

"I'm Lukas," the man supplied as he pulled Ron up. Lukas only looked about nineteen or twenty but there was an air about him that made him seemed older. His shaggy brown hair was wet as if he just took a shower, yet a bit of dirt was smeared across his cheek.

Ron glared at the two, noticing the way they seemed to be wandless as if they only relied on the hand to hand combat muggles used. It was like they didn't see Ron as a powerful threat. Ron swallowed back at snort at that. They were standing a little too close on the edge. Pushed Ron far enough and they would see just how much of a force he was. Ron was already just a centimeter away from exploding. "Give me my wand," he said vehemently. "If you're going to treat me to luxuries and go through so much trouble to lie to me, I deserve to have my wand! Or better yet just stick me in a cell! It's not like you weren't going to anyway."

"Does he not have a brain?" Lukas muttered. It was probably only meant for Anya to hear but Ron's senses were on overdrive and as the words registered in Ron's mind, the prisoner snapped.

It was like a bomb, Ron later remembered. One minute he was just standing there, holding onto the anger inside of him and the next he was yelling, his face most likely the same color red as his hair. "Do I have a brain?" Ron grounded out. "You don't know what the hell I've been through! Or better yet maybe you do since you could be right up in the higher part You-Know-Who's circle of Death Eaters! I'm tired of fighting, god damn it! I'm tired of seeing people I care about being killed! But since that won't quit until he's dead, then you're making the wrong mistake by treating me like I won't hurt you. Because I'll hunt each one of you down and kill you all until this war is over!"

By the end of his speech, he was breathing hard. His heart pounded in his chest and he was suddenly aware of not just two but four sets of eyes on him, one of which belonged to an older woman with graying hair that stood in the doorway. She stared at him with a knowing smile. Yet the passion of still burned in him and he was ready to fling on another round of yelling, with insults of rotten Death Eaters, when a whistle broke the silence. Lukas was raising an eyebrow at him, looking impressed.

"He was Harry Potter's best friend, right?" a girl with long black hair that was standing beside Lukas asked.

Of course I am, Ron thought bitterly. That's probably why you took me. But he held his tongue instead of spitting the words out like he would have a second ago. The stare the older woman was giving him kept him silent. It was like she knew something about him that even he didn't know.

Anya smiled. "Yes," she answered.

Lukas chuckled and shook his head as if he couldn't believe it. "This one sure as a temper. He seems protective as hell, too. I guess that's a good trait to have when someone like Harry Potter was your friend. Wonder what his powers will be, huh?"

Ron asked, "What powers?"

But he was ignored. The oldest of the four that stood before him said, "We definitely have a good one here. After some explaining, we'll let him rest for a while before we start on training. I have a feeling it won't be long before he's ready."

"Yes, explain to me," Ron said. "I'm dying to know what you have to say."

The sarcasm in his voice didn't go unnoticed. Anya, Lukas, and the black haired girl sent him a glare but the woman only looked at him. "Take a seat on the bed, Ronald," she told him, walking up to him. She forced him over to the bed while Ron protested and squirmed. Pushing him down, she said, "The more you move around, the more you'll hurt. Fighting in a battle like you did causes you to be quite sore after. Not only that, but you must have been hit from some nasty spells as well. I'm Jane, by the way."

Jane. Ron fished his brain. The name sounded familiar to him and as he realized why he felt a pang in his stomach. Jane. Jean. Hermione Jean Granger. Hermione's middle name sounded far too much like Jane to be a comfort. He swallowed passed a lump in his throat. Was Hermione alright? God, she had to be. Ron didn't know how he would be able to move on if she wasn't. Harry and Fred was one thing, but if you added Hermione in… Ron shook his head, trying his hardest to get rid of nightmarish thoughts.

Please be okay, Hermione. I am. Stay alive for me. I'll find you, I promise.

He hoped that wherever Hermione was she could hear him. He knew it was an impossible wish, but it was the only hope he could hold onto. Hermione was the brightest witch of her age. If Ron had stayed alive thus far, she was sure to be okay. Ron eyed the four people in front of him, wondering if he should attack now or wait and hear their explanations. A thought popped into his head.

"I'll listen," he said, "but only if you allow me to have my wand."

He thought they would protest, but Jane glanced at the group and nodded. "Get him his wand."

The house was oddly quiet. So many people inhabited the small home of Shell Cottage, yet there was little talk except for the murmurs of Order members. Hermione knew they were trying to find ways to end the war, but action was out of the question at the moment. Too many people were hurt; they needed time to rest before diving into another fight. And what could they possibly do now when their numbers had dwindled so much?

Hermione sat outside in the grass, looking over the hillside at the beach as the water came and went. The wind blew softly, a nice cool touch to her skin. She didn't want to sit around and come up with a plan. Ron could be out there somewhere and needing their help. They hadn't found his body at Hogwarts, yet Kingsley said that among the rumble and destruction they could have been wrong and his body was buried underneath. That didn't help Hermione's nerves. Ron had to be alive. They didn't make it all this just to be separated and torn apart. She would see those blue eyes again, eyes full of love and protectiveness; eyes full of life.

She played with the hem of her shirt. It had been two days since the battle. Two days since her best friend died and the love of her life went missing. Everyone tried to comfort her, everyone tried to tell her it would be okay. Even Molly, bless her heart, tried to put on a brave face for the young witch but Hermione soon felt suffocated by all the concern and worry. She knew that when Molly was alone she would sob. Hermione never heard or saw but it was obvious to her when she looked into the older witch's eyes.

She only wanted to find Ron. The Order was preparing to look for the missing people they knew were alive as well as another battle. But there were no clues to where Ron was, no evidence that he was alive. The Weasleys were trying to think logically though Hermione knew that they were planning to spend nights searching for their youngest boy. Last night was the first night they tried, and Hermione waited up with Ginny who was banned from going since her family agreed she was too young.

They all came back with tired and sad faces, shaking their heads at the two teenagers. Go to bed, they had said. We'll try another night.

Hermione didn't want to try another night. She needed her knight beside her, holding her hand and telling her it would all be okay and that they would have a happy ending. She looked at her empty hand that sat in her lap, wanting to feel the hand holding onto hers but there was nothing. She took out the Deluminator out of her pocket and rolled her over in her hands. Arthur found it by chance while looking for Ron. It was the only thing she had of him.

"Mom says you ought to eat," she heard from behind her.

She almost expected to hear the voice's counterpart chime in with some comical saying, yet none came. George had stayed hauled up in an empty room for the past two days and only came down for the search. She remembered the look on his face. It was the same look that must be on her face. He was going to make sure his youngest brother was okay and if he wasn't he would take down every Death Eater involved in the hurting of Ron. When the Weasley family came home last night, George rushed back to his room but not before Hermione saw the tears cascading down his face.

"I don't feel like eating," she said quietly.

"I don't either," George admitted. He sat down next to her, pulling his legs up to his chest. Hermione didn't bother to look at him. "But Mom…well you know how she is." Hermione didn't say anything, just kept staring straight ahead. George sighed. "I'm not going to stop until I find him. I've already lost F-Fred, I can't lose Ron too." His stumbled over Fred's name and Hermione glanced over to see his brown eyes swimming with tears. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"We need to find him," she whispered. "I need to find him, George. He promised he would never leave me again!" She buried her head into George's chest and the red-head put an arm around the sobbing witch. Too many things had gone wrong since the Battle of Hogwarts; too many deaths, too many tears. Hermione gripped the Deluminator tighter, her only piece of Ron she had left.

"So explain to me why I'm here." Ron was sitting on the end of his bed, while the other four people stood opposite of him. He held his wand in his hand tightly and was ready to fling a spell if anything seemed suspicious. But so far no opportunity came. Ron wasn't even sure why he was waiting for one, but for once the logical part of his brain was pushing him to sit down and listen.

I've been spending way too much time with Hermione, he thought. The remembrance of his friend—or girlfriend?—lowered his spirits, making him feel even more alone than he already was. If only he could just see her one more time… I will, he told himself. He only needed to stay alive long enough to find her and his family.

Jane cleared her throat to get his attention and started up her speech once he was looking at her. "You might not believe us at first," she began and Ron suppressed a snort, "but we brought you here because you have powers above the rest of the wizarding world. That power needs to be worked with and controlled so you and these three here—" she gestured around her—"can save the world from darkness."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Sounds a whole bunch like the crap Dumbledore said to Harry. I'm sorry but I think you've got the wrong guy, Miss." He shook his head at her. As much as he used to be jealous of Harry, he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived and never would be. And he certainly didn't have 'powers above the rest' or whatever the woman had rattled off.

"The jewel doesn't lie," said Anya.

Ron glanced at her and saw the witch fingering her necklace, rubbing her thumb across the green jewel. He had noticed it before when she had tackled him but it seemed like some any normal necklace. Now from the way Anya was looking at it, he had the impression that there was something he was missing. But from the way the grouped was acting there were a lot of things he was missing. "What do you mean?" he asked. "What's the jewel got to do with anything?"

The black haired girl spoke up. "The jewel is what helps you fuel your magic. You already have it in you, but the jewel will make it more powerful and more easily accessed. It also links you to the other people. We all have one." She showed him the ring on her finger. It was a bright blue. As Ron leaned closer he thought it looked a bit like swirling water.

"I still don't understand how you think I'm this person you were looking for," he said, even more confused now than before.

"The jewels give off this sort of glowing light when another one of us is revealed," Anya explained. "And a few months ago, they all lit up. The first time they had in years. Jane was able to tell us who you were from her connection with the spirits and from there the search began."

"Her connection with the spirits?" Ron asked dumbfounded. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

Jane sat down next to him and he scooted further away. "We all have powers," she said. "I am able to converse with the spirits of my ancestors who were Seers but only when they call to me. Lukas has power over ice, Krystal's is water, and Anya's is the earth. Along with that, they have smaller magic that's stronger than the magic of normal witches and wizards."

"But I don't have any special powers," Ron told her.

"Yes you do. You just have to find it. The spirits and jewels are never wrong, Ron."

Anya smiled. "Will you believe us if we do a demonstration?" Before he answered, she closed her eyes and held out her hand, palm upward. A green vine appeared in her hand, growing and sliding down until it hit the floor while multicolored flowers bloomed from it, covering up the vine. Ron had to admit it was beautiful.

Water floated in front of Ron's face as if it was there all along, and he looked over the see Krystal smiling. She motioned to Lukas and he sent her a grin. Jane nudged Ron's shoulder. "Watch," she whispered. His eyes flicked back to the water and ice slowly started taking it over, turning the blob of floating liquid into the shape of a frozen heart. He reached out a hand to grab it and when he had a hold of it, he ran a finger over the cold surface.

"You really did this?" he asked.

Jane nodded. "They really did. And if you decide to believe us, you can do these kinds of things too as well as save your family."

"Just listen to your heart," Anya supplied.

Ron glanced at all four of them, seeing their encouraging faces. He tried doing what Anya advised. What was his heart saying? He closed his eyes, tightening the hold on his wand for a second. Then letting out a sigh, he opened them and said, "Just tell me how to use my power."

Whether they were really on his side or not, he would do anything to make sure his family and Hermione were okay. And he couldn't do that on his own. Escaping right now wasn't even a good idea, he concluded. His body ached from the battle and it would slow him down. Jane was right. Fighting took a lot out of you. He looked up at the ceiling and imagined Harry and Fred looking down at him.

I hope I'm doing the right thing, Harry.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading this. Just to warn you updates won't always be quick. There will be times when I can get chapters written pretty fast and others that will take some time.