A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN Everyone!

I am so happy with the responses I am getting from you, dear readers!Keeps me motivated, makes me post sooner. So please keep those reviews coming!

Remember I said the characters will be darker in this story? Well, it begins...

Enjoy and Please drop me a review!

Edit: Many of my initial chapters seemed to be of mixed POVs. After much deliberation, and for the sake of the story, I have decided to keep it that way.

All Characters belong to JKR

Chapter 3: The Custodian

She had dozed off while sitting with her back against the headboard and her head resting on her knees that she had pulled close to the body.

He knocked a couple of times with his knuckles while balancing the food-laden tray on the other hand, all the while cursing his horrid luck under his breath. There was no sound from inside and despite himself, Ron was slightly curious. Taking a deep breath and preparing himself for the worst, he touched the door knob. As soon as the silver came in contact with his palm, it glowed a bright blue before turning back to its normal, boring self and the door opened with a soft click. She didn't possibly know of the door opening or hear him enter for that matter, and surely never saw the bitter glance he gave at her hunched figure.

The light inside the room being dimmer than the rest of the house, Ron squinted till his eyes could make out the details of the room. After a while, he made his way towards a low stool next to the wardrobe as noiselessly as he possibly could.

As long as he could just drop the bloody tray and leave before she woke up...

The tiny phials clinked together and he almost spilled the soup over the bacon but managed to save it all just the last minute. Glad, he turned around. A slight nudge from his hand was all it took, and the fork and knife clattered down on the floor, breaking the silence of the room along with it.

"Fuck! Fuck! Bloody hell!" he muttered furiously, picking up the articles and placing them back before he turned around.

For a brief moment, the brown eyes met the blue, and he could just about make out the shock and fear in them, cherishing the way her face lost all colour at his sight. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car and he allowed himself a satisfied smirk. Granger was looking for an escape. He watched her carefully as her eyes glanced between him and the door that was partially open.

Enough for an escape, Granger? Perhaps not.

He could see her intent in her eyes and despite himself, a small cruel smile formed on his lips.

Well, he could let her try, couldn't he?

She scrambled with her long gown for a split second before jumping off the bed and rushed towards the door. Hopefully, a small part of that brilliant brain that was not concentrating on her escape would be wondering why he had not so much as lifted a finger to stop her. At least, she got that answer soon enough.

The door shut with a bang when she was barely inches away, the force of it knocking her backwards. Stumbling to maintain her balance and avoid tripping over the hem of her long dress at the same time, she let out a frustrated groan. He let out a snicker.

Granger turned around angrily, holding the long dress tightly between her fists, while he stood close to the desk, arms folded casually at his chest.

"W-What did you do?" she asked backing away. He could see the panic rising in her at the predicament but he did not bother to answer. He had known the wards wouldn't allow her to leave the room, for her own fucking safety.

"Why have you brought me here? What do you want?" she asked, her voice trembling despite the false show of bravado.

"I haven't brought you here. And believe me, I want nothing to do with you," he replied, unable to stop the hatred he felt from creeping into his voice.

She was watching him intently; her arms wrapped protectively around her chest, shoulders straight but fearful at the same time.

Any other girl and he would have pitied her for her situation. Any other girl and he would have felt horrible for being such a prat. But she wasn't just anyone, was she? She was the one and only, Hermione Granger.

..

The food smelt delicious and Hermione realised with a pang that she was literally starving. It definitely was a long time since she had had dinner with her parents.

Her parents…

The thought almost choked her. She was now dead sure that she was brought here against her Father's wishes. She could feel the tears of frustration and fear pricking her eyes. Whatever she had imagined her situation to be, this was way worse. She almost wished for a broad, scruffy, dirty man, shoving a plate with a piece of bread at her from under the door.

Anything but Ronald Weasley.

"Where am I?" she asked in a quieter voice.

"In a safe house with the Order of the Phoenix." There was definitely a tone of pride in that statement but her heart stopped.

"O-Order of the P-Phoenix?"

"Yes."

She threw all display of control away and ran to the door, pulling the knob and banging on the wood with her fists.

"LET ME GO! W-WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? LET ME OUT OF HERE!" she yelled banging with all her might.

"STOP IT!" he barked furiously, and she stopped abruptly and turned around to find annoyance and extreme hatred etched in those otherwise handsome features. At least he had not moved towards her. She looked down searching.

Think, Hermione! she told herself furiously. Maybe he had a wand she could nick… Although overpowering him physically would be difficult, with a wand she could handle him easily.

She glanced at the boy she loathed but found what she was looking for. The wood was poking out of his pocket. He was still watching her, however, and Hermione lowered her eyes and went back and sat at the edge of the bed. The gears in her brain was churning thoughts and plans rapidly. She had to get him talking, divert his attention till she could risk a chance.

"Why am I here?" she asked softly and he watched her for a while before he answered.

"To keep you safe," he replied bitterly. She did not believe him in the least.

"Eat up," he huffed after a while as he possibly noticed her watching the food. She licked her dry lips. In all honestly, she was starving. But she was in the enemy's den, wasn't she? He roughly pulled out the chair next to the study table and placed it next to the stool.

"Eat."

She came forward consciously and took the offered seat. At least, she was closer to him now and closer to the wand. She glanced down noticing the enormous amount of food on the tray and also the two phials.

"H-How do I know it's not poisoned?"

He laughed aloud sarcastically.

"Don't you think we have had enough chances to kill you if we wanted to? Why bother getting you here in a proper room, getting the food prepared and then try poisoning you with it?"

..

She glared at him but Ron knew she was evaluating his answer. Finally, she picked up the soup bowl, and with her back straight against the chair, picked up the spoon. Just before the spoon touched her lips, though, she eyed him once and took a tentative sip. He knew she loved it because of her tongue darted out to smack her lips. He looked away abruptly.

Very soft clinking sounds continued as she ate. He turned once to see her cutting and picking small morsels of food before putting them daintily in her mouth. She sat a little hunched with the odd height of the chair and the food tray making it difficult for her to maintain her stiff posture.

Arrogant, stiff, bloody snobbish posture.

A while later, there was a small scraping noise like a chair being pushed away, and he finally turned to face her. She had not even managed to finish one-third of what his Mum had prepared. Muttering thanks she continued to look at him intently.

Hermione felt much better with the food in her system. Her head cleared significantly. She inconspicuously glanced at his pocket again from where the wand was peeking out, her sole chance of escape. She saw that he was looking at the tray but not seeing it perhaps. Hermione jumped up the moment he looked away for a second. Without warning, she lurched ahead reaching for his pocket, feeling overjoyed as fingers of her right hand touched the wood, but the very next moment, he had grasped her wrist in his hand so painfully that she yelped aloud and let the wand go. He didn't.

Weasley yanked her hand away from his wand and turned her arm around so that the back of her palm was now pressed behind against her lower back. His fingers were still curled painfully around her wrist bringing their bodies close while he looked down at her with undisguised loathing.

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It." he said so menacingly that she visibly trembled, angry tears pricked her eyes. Unwilling to give up, she struggled against his grip, trying uselessly to shake his hand off.

"Leave me!" she raged looking at him with fire in her eyes. How dare he touch her!

"Father will rip your arms for this!" she hissed. It didn't seem like he had heard. Those cool blue eyes continued to look at her without bothering to hide the hatred he felt for her as she struggled against his grip.

"LET ME GO, WEASLEY! You are hurting me!"

For a moment he looked surprised as if seeing her and their position for the first time, and his grip slackened. She took the moment to dash away.

"Fuck!" he muttered under his breath, breathing deeply and running his fingers through his hair.

Ron eyed her carefully. She was standing as far away from him as the room would allow, massaging her bruised wrist with the other hand.

"I'm sorry," he said uncomfortably. She glared at him but did not bother to reply. He inhaled deeply cursing his horrid luck and pulled out the chair for himself.

"Sit," he told her indicating the bed.

"What makes you think I'll do as you order me to?" she scoffed back instead. The fire returned to his eyes.

"Look, Granger, you are going to be here for a long time. And I am the only person you'll get to see in all this while. So you might as well learn to cooperate." She remained standing (and glaring as well) but he knew he had got her attention this time.

"Why have you got me here?" she asked, eyeing him with suspicion. He took a deep breath again. His mother was right. He had no clue how he was supposed to handle this. He could almost hear her voice loud in his ears.

'She is alone and orphaned and in a strange place, nothing that can be called pleasant by any stretch of an imagination. You will keep that in mind at all times.'

"Believe me you should sit down for this," he said a little more politely this time and was surprised when she actually did as asked, positioning herself against the headrest, keeping the farthest distance from him.

He wondered how to begin. He could get to the point straight off.

"Some of the Order members rescued you from the fire at your mansion last night," he began, noticing the colour and anger drain out from her face to be replaced by terror.

"F-Fire?"

"Yeah. Fiend Fire."

"F-Fiend F-Fire?" she asked as fresh tears pooled in her big brown eyes that reflected shock and disbelief in equal measure.

"Yeah."

"Mother? F-Father?" she asked, and Ron had a feeling that she knew the answer already. He couldn't help feeling bad for her, suddenly realising how much she had lost. He had no answer so he remained silent and averted his eyes, allowing the silence to be the answer enough.

"Well, I d-don't believe you!" she declared after a while, and Ron looked up to see a steady stream of tears running down her cheeks as she bit her trembling lips.

"Why should I believe you?" she asked again.

"Because that is the truth, perhaps?"

"You are lying!"

"Suit yourself," he muttered annoyed and then cursed himself.

"Look, Granger, I know this is tough for you," he managed, itching to get this over with and leave the room. "Believe me, I wouldn't be here if I could help it either."

"Then why are you here?" she asked like she couldn't wait to see him gone.

"Because I have been assigned to this task, I've got to keep you safe," he answered bitterly as she scoffed.

"You? Keep me safe? And who has given you this job, may I ask? Dumbledore perhaps?" she sneered. "Father is right, that man has gone senile."

The fury he was barely holding back burst through him again.

"If your father was so clever, he should have known better and chosen better friends, Granger! And you should thank this very same 'senile' man for saving your miserable life from your father's dear old Master," he spat, noticing with satisfaction as she watched him with horror.

"The D-Dark Lord killed them?"

"Well he does fancy killing, doesn't he?"

"Why would he do that? Father always…" she stopped mid sentence looking horrified at having almost acknowledged her family links with the Dark Lord. This was not something that was to be spoken out aloud.

"'Always' what? Sang praises of him? Aren't you guys thick to assume that You-know-who cares for you lot like a mother wolf watching her cubs?" he asked as the repulsion he felt for her crept back in. In a way, she deserved what she got.

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU! I DON'T BELIEVE ANYTHING YOU'VE SAID!"

"As I said, suit yourself." Well, at least he could say he tried.

Ron shoved back the chair and walked over to pick up the tray, never taking his eyes off her as she sat on the bed in disbelief. Picking up the two phials he placed them on the bedside table, and with a last look at her, walked out of the door that opened at his touch. The door closed as soon as Ron had stepped out of the boundary of the room.

He dropped the tray in Kreacher's arms at the third landing and rushed down the steps. He had to go as far from her as he possibly could.

A/N: I am eagerly looking forward to your review to know your thoughts on this chapter.

* Unlike my other story When Fate Decides which had many characters, this one will revolve mostly around Ron and Hermione. I don't think anyone will complain though :)