A/N: I am so happy with your responses. Thank you so very much! :)

So here is a very awaited chapter. Enjoy and please Review!

I'm a little stuck at the moment so I'll reply to your fantastic reviews in some time.

All character rights belong to JKR

Chapter 5: The Hole in the Heart

The door of the kitchen was pushed open roughly and Ron scrambled into the room and pulled out a chair for himself. Harry watched him curiously as Ron plopped down on the chair while scratching his slightly stubbled cheeks.

"You look bloody awful, mate!" he exclaimed once he got a closer look.

"Thanks," replied Ron dryly as he stifled a yawn and stretched his shoulders while massaging his neck.

Harry placed his tea on the table silently asking Ron if he wanted a cup to which Ron shook his head in negative. "So, you actually stayed up all night?" he probed, unable to disguise his surprise and snicker.

Ron yawned loudly and sniffed. "Well, I thought it best to stay awake," he replied, voice slurred, "Merlin knew she'd have attempted to nick my wand again if I dozed off, wouldn't she?" As Harry spluttered, spilling the hot beverage on his fresh shirt, Ron looked up and gave him a weak grin. There was one thing not getting along with a Slytherin, but this sounded rather barmy. "This time around she'd have finished me off for sure," Ron added while he folded his arms on the table before resting his head on them.

"She tried to nick your wand?!" Harry managed after he had wiped most of the tea off his shirt. He needed to change but he needed those answers first. "When did that happen?"

"Yeah, yesterday when I carried her supper up to her room. That one has got a crazy way to show her gratitude," Ron provided, his voice slurring with sleep as he struggled to keep his eyes open and yawned again.

"Why don't you go upstairs and take a nap?" Harry suggested, sipping from his cup which now contained only half the beverage he had poured. "I asked Kreacher to fix up a couple of beds, the ones we used last time," he added as Ron grunted a reply, his eyes already closed.

The familiar, careful opening of the heavy main door sounded outside, and it was only a short while before Mrs Weasley appeared carrying, what Harry hoped, was some stock for the empty pantry. She took in Ron's sleeping form on the table curiously and had almost turned away before she did a double-take and looked up at Harry, bewildered. "What happened to his face?!" she asked, and Harry hoped she wasn't really imagining the worst from Ron.

"Granger woke us up in the middle of the night with her screams. Apparently, she was having nightmares," he explained rather hurriedly. "When Ron tried waking her up, she assumed he was attacking her. And..." he gestured at his friend's scratched face and hands.

Molly's eyes softened immediately. "Oh, my poor boy!" she exclaimed, and dropping the parcels on the table, took out her wand and healed him in a flash. She lovingly ruffled his hair and tutted softly before making her way to the kitchen to get their breakfast ready. "I've got a few of Ginny's dresses and a few other things she'll need," she announced, indicating the bag she had brought along.

"Tonks got some stuff last night too," Harry informed her as he pointed out the bag that was still lying on one of the chairs.

Mrs Weasley nodded in acknowledgement before busing herself with the food. Soon the room began to smell just like the Weasley kitchen. "Why is Ron sleeping now?" she asked while ladling out bowls of porridge for them.

"Erm...He stayed up most of the night keeping watch over her- after her nightmares, I mean," Harry furnished, feeling a little warm around the cheeks. It was a bloody insane situation to be in. Molly did not comment to that but Harry did catch her looking at her son adorably while she buttered their toasts for them.

Pretty soon, three food-laden trays floated to the table. A couple of them settled in front of the boys while the third landed delicately at the centre. Harry picked up his spoon immediately but then dropped it back and moved over to where his best mate sat, snoring softly now. "Ron!" he called, shaking him on the arm.

"Hmph?" Ron grunted, without opening his eyes.

"Breakfast, Ron!" he announced, knowing well that those two words would do the trick.

And surely enough, Ron forced his eyes open and pushing himself up, pulled the tray closer and looked around. Noticing his mother, he gave her a goofy smile. "Thanks, Mum," he muttered groggily as he bit into his toast.

"Once you finish eating, Ron, take this tray upstairs for her. And then you can go to your room and sleep."

"Tell Kreacher to send them upstairs as he did with the pitcher and goblet last night," Ron replied grumpily. "What am I, her personal house-elf?" he added annoyed as he pulled the bowl and dug in.

"Ron Weasley! You will take this upstairs. It is absolutely bad manners to send food that way!" admonished the elderly witch, and Harry noticed Ron attacking his porridge as if it had done him physical harm. Harry wasn't sure if Molly noticed her son because she had already busied herself with the next task. Pulling out a floral summer dress from a bag, she held it up at the shoulder straps. "I wonder if Ginny's stuff will fit her?" she pondered aloud as she turned at Harry for confirmation. Utterly confused, Harry looked up from his plate, glanced at Molly and then the dress and back at her. How on earth was he supposed to know?!

"She is a couple of inches shorter than Gin, Mum, and slightly thinner."

Harry had to literally bite back his comment as he almost choked on his porridge. For someone who claimed to hate the sight of Granger, Ron seemed pretty well-informed. He tried catching Ron's eyes; it was way too much of an effort to keep the teasing on hold till they were alone.

"Oh, okay then!" said Molly seriously as she pulled out the clothes from both the bags and altered them accordingly before repacking everything. With a flick, they disappeared and Harry knew where they would have appeared.

...

Fifteen minutes later, Ron was once again outside the door on the third floor, a look of deep loathing etched in his features. It was not even one whole day of this so called 'assignment' and he was already fed up and wanted out. He knocked a couple of times and without bothering for a response, turning the knob and entered. There were clothes all over her bed. He recognised one deep blue shirt that was Ginny's and turned around to face an extremely annoyed someone standing with her arms folded at her chest.

"These are old clothes," she said with contempt.

"Sorry?" he asked, completely baffled.

"You should be! I can't wear these! They are old and tasteless and some of them are even muggle clothes!" she responded with disgust.

He stared at her for a while before he burst out laughing. Hermione continued to watch him indignantly, her eyes in slits. "What on earth were you expecting?" he managed finally, "Dresses from Paris?" he asked incredulously.

"I want new clothes, at least from Gladrags Wizardwear if not someplace better," she replied snobbishly.

Ron stared at her, at a loss of works. She ought to be fucking insane. Blowing out through his mouth he walked over and he dropped the food-laden tray a little too loudly on the study table before turning around to face her. "Look, Granger-" he hissed with all the patience he could muster. "-these clothes belong to people who have the heart to share their own with someone who doesn't have anything right now. You're forgetting, everything you owned was lost in the fire," he stated slowly, fighting the urge to yell at her absurdity. "Your galleons are all locked in Gringotts and your vaults sealed. You are in no position to throw tantrums here," he finished, gritting his teeth.

She flinched at his words but did not lose the haughty look in her eyes. "I. won't. wear. hand- me- downs," she sneered glaring in contempt at the articles on the bed.

Ron balled his fists and took a few deep breaths, before running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Dumbledore must hate his guts, he reckoned. There was no other reason for him to have landed up this 'job'.

"Fine. Do as you wish," he spat gritting his teeth. "I'll send these back. You can wear your one single gown for as long as we are stuck in this mess, yeah?" he announced. "Roam around naked while it goes for a wash, for all I care! And then, when it turns into tatters, you can give me a fantastic display of your assets," he added frustratedly and watched as her pale cheeks turn pink- in embarrassment or anger he wasn't sure. Perhaps both. As she continued to glare at him, he tried shoving off the image of a naked Hermione moving around in the room, and was disgusted to find that it was making his body react in ways he didn't want it to. Luckily for him, she turned away sharply and walked over to the window.

"Leave," she hissed.

"With pleasure," he sneered and walked out of the door, banging it shut behind him.

...

Ron punched the pillow hard in his attempt to make it a little more comfortable, knowing completely well that it wasn't the fault of the bed or any other innate article in his vicinity that he was still struggling to fall asleep, even after an hour of coming back from her room. But the truth was, that one simple sentence from his mouth had opened a floodgate of other emotions that were simmering inside him anyway, emotions he had been struggling to keep under the wraps for weeks now. He knew Harry had already noticed, and yet, this was one thing he couldn't share with his best mate. All of last year, he had craved to confide in Harry. But that was all in the past. It no longer mattered and he reckoned it was better to keep those bitter memories all to himself anyway. He rolled over again, perhaps for a hundredth time in the past hour, still uncomfortable.

How could he still be attracted to the one person he loathed beyond all?! Why could he not get over the frustrating feelings even after all that she had done to him- after everything she had said?!

He turned on his back, and for the millionth time perhaps, found himself thinking about how it had all began.

Fifth Year, beginning of October.

"It's easy," Luna had suggested in that casual way of hers. "We can suggest pairing each prefect with someone from a different house for the night patrols for the whole year. That way we can keep Slytherin Prefects, Malfoy and Granger, away from our path and we can sneak into the Room of Requirements easily."

It did seem rather logical at the time. Getting it done through the Head Boy had been easy as well; after all, at that time, nothing was more important than hiding the whole secret training bit from Umbridge.

Ron had been paired with Granger, for even a cribbing Parvati had accepted that pairing Ron and Malfoy together would be equivalent to feeding a firecracker to a Blast-Ended Skewt.

Looking back, he wondered why he never had an inkling of what was to come despite knowing who she was. He hated to admit that it did not seem so bad at the time.

Yes, he found her annoying. She was such a know-it-all, and her arrogance and snobbish attitude were enough to irk him from miles away. And yet, he couldn't resist the charm during those silent nights when they walked down side by side through the dark corridors. He assumed it was because unlike the classes, where she talked incessantly, answering all questions and probing the teachers for more notes, here, she hardly spoke. He certainly wasn't complaining. After a few weeks of silent patrolling, he realised that he liked her silent form better. Heck, without the contempt with which she graced the others during the day, her face looked rather pretty, almost beautiful. Her hair was insane and yet somehow extremely gorgeous.

He often wondered if it was the moonlight, filtering in through the high windows in the hallway and casting a soft light on her delicate features, that made her look so breathtaking. Or was it the way her soft curls fell on her face? Or perhaps the way she tucked them behind her ears with those delicate fingers? Maybe it was those rare occasions when she looked up at him with those big brown eyes or even that perfume she used... He didn't quite know. It took a couple of months for Ron to realise that he was done for. Of all the girls in Hogwarts, he, Ron Weasley, was falling for a snobbish Slytherin. He kept telling himself that it was all futile and he was being an absolute dork. But he still couldn't resist the pull. There was something about her he couldn't explain. He wanted to tell Harry but between the DA meetings and all the nightmares, there was never a good moment. And then, there was also the fact that she was a Slytherin. How could he ever explain that?! Forced by his stupid heart, he started frequenting the library. Everyone assumed he was preparing for his O. W. Ls. But he knew what it was. It was the only time when he could watch her in her element, surrounded by books, making notes and looking absolutely in love with what she was doing. He noticed how she had a habit of licking her lower lip while she read those enormous volumes which he was sure no one else in school bothered to touch. He loved how her face would lit up as she chatted animatedly with her best friend, Daphne. And then there were those glorious moments when she'd bite her lower lip and released it slowly. He literally craved to walk up to her, throw away the book from her hands and pull her in his arms and snog her senseless. He dreamt of softly biting those lips himself. He imagined tangling his fingers in those soft curls and burying his face in her nape, drowning in the scent that was her. He frequently dreamt of unbuttoning the high neck robes she wore to see the soft, creamy skin that she hid from view and trace it with his lips... But despite all his fanciful dreams, that both kept him awake at nights and haunted his sleeping hours, he was nowhere close to even picking up a casual conversation with her.

It happened after the Christmas Holidays, after the time his father was attacked in the Department of Mysteries. They had to leave a week earlier than the date on which the holidays officially began.

"You left early before Christmas," she said the first time he saw her on the patrols after his return. He wondered when she had begun to start sounding sweet rather than annoying.

"Yeah, some family stuff..." he replied hoping that the loud thudding of his heart was not audible outside his body.

"Oh..." she responded softly, those mesmerising eyes meeting his in concern. "All okay I hope?"

"Yeah...yeah," he responded, cursing his brain for wiping away his entire vocabulary except for that one word.

"I missed you... I mean during the patrols," she said in the softest of whispers, and he did all he could to stop himself from pushing her back against the stone walls and snogging her senseless.

"Oh..." he said instead and felt his ears turn red, glad that the partial darkness was at least hiding his burning face.

She turned and looked up at him again, and in the moonlight that chose to light up her face at that precise moment, he saw her smile at him before she blushed and looked away and Ron knew he was lost. He had officially lost his heart to Hermione Granger.

There were very few words, he could never pull up the courage to talk. And yet, as they walked side by side, sometimes he'd graze his fingers with his and slowly pulled that small hand in his own. It never failed to fill his heart with warmth. They spoke a few sentences when they met but mostly patrolled together in silence. And yes, there were many stolen glances, times when he sat at a different table from hers at the library but in her line of sight. And on the rare occasions when they both were alone at their tables, he would look at her long enough for her to notice him before she turned away, biting back a smile, her face flushed. There were times when the brown eyes met the blue, and even in those few stolen minutes, they held a promise, a promise of something beautiful in the future.

How could he have been so foolish...

It happened a couple of days before their O. W. Ls began. He had gone to the library to wish her luck, and after an enormous amount of mental preparation, had convinced himself to confess. There was no point hiding it anymore. Yes, he fancied her. He was bloody insane about her. Noticing her absence, he hung around in the aisle behind the desk she usually occupied. It wasn't long before two soft voices were heard on the other side of the shelf. He knew those voices well. He waited for Daphne to leave as he paced, picking up random books just to appear occupied, his ears trained on the conversation.

"He isn't here today," he heard Daphne speak, and instantly knew who she was referring to. He grinned to himself, scratching the back of his neck. Well, they did speak about him after all.

"Good," Hermione replied, and Ron's grin faltered at her tone.

"So how is the drama going on?" asked Daphne again, and Ron inched closer, his heart twisting fearfully.

"It's rather annoying having to make coy faces at him, while all I want to do is puke, Daph." He stood stunned, trying to convince himself that maybe they were not talking about him at all. But her next sentence shattered that hope once and for all. "I'm going to murder Draco," Hermione continued. "I told him it was a stupid idea! How on earth can me flirting with Weasley help find out what Potter is up to?"

"So, it isn't working?"

"Well, he is charmed alright. But I haven't found anything, have I? He hardly talks!"

"Why don't you ask him directly?"

"Well he might be dumb, but he isn't that big a fool. I was hoping I'd have earned his trust by now and maybe he'd begin to tell me what those Gryffindors are up to. But no," she sighed dramatically. "Seems my flirting skills are way better than my spying skills, Daph."

There was a sound of girlish laughter as he stood rooted to his spot. It was all a game, a very well planned one and he had fallen straight into the trap.

"So you'll carry the plan into next year?"

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped. "What if he becomes all bold during the summer and decides to snog me?" she replied, disgust evident in her words. "Do you know how many times I have to wash my hands after we accidentally brush hands? Mother says all kinds of diseases grow in filth. No way am I doing that!"

"But you have to give it to Draco for his observation skills, Herms. Only he saw Weasley eying you for weeks before Christmas." There was a snicker from both the girls before Daphne spoke again. "But at least Weasley looks good; you've got to give him that."

"Good looks don't substitute for empty pockets, Daphs. Imagine the horror if the school knew what I am doing! Imagine if our names were said together, I would die of shame and disgust."

"I am surprised Draco kept his promise, you know? I mean he didn't disclose it. I was sure he'd announce it just to watch Potter's reaction to the news, and the rest of the Gryffindor's for that matter," said Daphne.

"Well, he had to, didn't he?" Hermione went on, emotionlessly. "That was my main clause. Draco can keep his Potter craze to himself but I am not jeopardizing my family name by associating with a Weasley. I'd have still understood if he wanted me to flirt with Potter, you know? But no! He wanted it to be Weasley to avoid suspicion! Draco is an idiot. I mean, what would Weasley even be if he had not managed to make friends with Potter the first day on the train? Who would ever know him?"

"Come on, Herms, he is brave."

"Please, Daphs! Getting into trouble is no bravery. He just does it so that Potter doesn't drop him for someone else as the best mate."

Ron could not hear any more. He could feel the hurt burn his very being. And yet, who could he blame? They were still talking but he didn't need to know anything else. He had heard enough. He kept hiding till Greengrass went away. But he wanted Hermione Granger to know that she was caught, wanted to see if there was any trace of guilt in those eyes. It took a while before he heard the other girl leave, and he took a few more minutes to draw in a deep breath, and then walked out of the darkness to where she sat. Her face lit up for a moment as their eyes met. But he continued to look at her expressionlessly, noticing for the first time how fake she really was. There was a look of confusion in her eyes when he did not smile back, and then those beautiful lips curled into a cruel smile as the realisation hit her. She shrugged and shook her head mockingly as if laughing at his foolishness before returning back to her book.

"Why would you do this to me?" he asked in an oddly calm voice that did not sound like him at all.

"Well, first of all, it wasn't hard," she shrugged, "And you can call it revenge, Weasley," she added. "Remember our first year when Slytherin almost got the house cup? I had scored the maximum points earned by a single student in a century that year, you know? But that was before you got grace marks for your silly little adventures and spoiled my moment. Consider this a little payback." she snorted.

There were so many things he wanted to tell her but he said nothing at all. He left soon after, hoping and praying that he would never have to see her face again in his life.

That fateful night, lying on his bed in the boys' dormitory in Gryffindor tower, Ron knew he would never hate anyone more than he hated Hermione Granger.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Looking forward to your reviews.