A/n: The previous chapter should have contained a warning of what it held and I missed it. Sincere apologies. I missed it because what I had in mind was the whole picture. This chapter will explain a lot. This is not a gloss-over chapter to defend Ron; on the contrary, the previous two along with this are the three most crucial plot points I had to chalk out their characters before they start school and what eventually happens between them in the next two years.

Ron is neither the boy he was in his fifth year nor the mature man of WFD. He is a conflicted teen struggling with his heart and hormones and also his identity. Hermione is not a brave, positive Gryffindor. That is what the base of the story is. It is not a black and white story but one with heavy grey tones.

I am thankful to each one of you who is with me in this experiment. Thank you.

All Characters belong to JKR.

Chapter 7 : Between Black and White

Ron had been grumpy and reserved for days now, however, post the incident with the cursed book, Harry noticed, he turned worse. His resentment with the 'assignment' seemed to bear him down and although Ron didn't quite complain about it as he did in the beginning, he had, quite literally, stopped talking to anyone unless absolutely necessary. Harry had made a few unsuccessful attempts at probing but had eventually given up. It had been more than two weeks to the incident and their monotonous routine had carried through the weeks.

Ron no longer grumbled as before but during mealtimes, would walk upstairs with the tray of food and come down soon after. He no longer complained about it, but Harry wasn't sure if it was because Ron had eventually accepted his role or there was something Harry had probably missed. Harry did, however, notice that his best mate looked particularly uneasy when the meal times arrived- not angry, neither sulky but simply uncomfortable. The chance to tease Ron, which he had so looked forward to, had lost its charm. Ron now spoke only when spoken to and only to the point. Needless to say, Harry was slowly falling back into his own web of gloom. The frequent Order meetings would have been a respite, but if only their involvement in it was anything more than the guard duty Ron had been assigned. Ron was asked to report about Granger and he had very little to say. Yes, she had her meals, no she neither complained nor spoke to him.

Finally, the arrival of their O. W. L results and book lists brought in a much-needed change. Amidst the celebrations and plans for a Diagon Alley trip, Harry noticed Ron silently leave the room with a piece of cake and a sealed envelope that was marked as 'Hermione Granger'.

...

Walking up the forty-something steps that led up to her room, Ron felt exactly the same as he had been feeling every minute since that incident - overburdened by guilt.

The dark spot at the edge of her lips had finally faded away but not before torturing him for days, reminding him of what he had done. He wasn't sure what had happened to him at that moment, why he had crossed that line. It felt as if something dark and despicable had overpowered his thoughts. He had relished the fact that he had struck where it must have hurt the most- her pride.

Everything he had overheard in the library proved that she despised his touch, and somehow that had driven his rage that evening. He paused mid-step, breathing with difficulty as the intense discomfort in his chest became rather unbearable. He must have something rather dark within him, he reckoned, nothing else could explain his actions. It was true that she had played dirty and showed. But what he had done was disgraceful, and the guilt choked him from within. He had taken advantage of her helpless situation, broken the trust the Order had placed on him and disgraced his mother's upbringing.

He hated her still but hated himself a little more. But most importantly, was disgusted at himself for having proved her right.

He knocked on the door thrice to announce his arrival and unlike the initial days, waited without entering. If he thought about it, he literally had a pass to enter her bedroom without her consent. The arrangement was messed up. He didn't know how Dumbledore had entrusted him with this responsibility. If the Headmaster knew Ron's deepest thoughts, he would not have allowed Ron to live in the same house let alone be a guard. He hated her to the core and yet...

Ron took a deep breath and cursed under his breath. No, he could not let his mind wander again.

Lying awake every night the previous weeks, he had come to a conclusion that it was high time he got his act together. He had to keep his personal feelings aside and concentrate on the job at hand. He wasn't expecting her to forgive him; there were certain actions that did not deserve it. He had crossed a line that afternoon and that would never change. He certainly hated her just as much as before. but this wasn't the right time for personal feelings of love, hate or even sexual attractions for that matter. This was war. And at least one of his tasks in it had been handed over to him. He had no clue what her utility in the war would be -considering she wasn't even actually on their side- but he trusted Dumbledore. If keeping her safe from You-Know-Who was his duty, he'd do it and do it well. He'd keep her safe and do everything to ensure she was safe from the dark side of the war and the darker side of himself.

He opened the door softly and looked cautiously just to locate her. She was standing yet again near the window and had not bothered to turn around or acknowledge his arrival in any way. Pulling his eyes away from her, he placed the plate down on the desk along with her results and booklist.

"They'll go shopping for our school supplies in a couple of days. You can give me the list of things you'll need." It was the first sentence between them after that fateful afternoon.

There was a small gasp as she wheeled around. "The results are out?!" She looked between him and the envelope rushed ahead to pick it, Ron moved just in time to avoid her from crashing onto his chest. He strode away to stand against the door. watching her rip the cover impatiently. Her features lit up as she scanned the parchment in her hand.

"I'll be able to take all of my chosen subjects for the N. E. W. Ts!" she beamed still scrolling through her report sheet. Ron quietly wondered to himself how on earth she expected anything less from her results anyway.

"When are we going to get the supplies?" she asked eagerly, looking up at him directly for the first time in weeks. Despite himself, his eyes were drawn to the corner of her mouth and he noticed that, at last, the mark had disappeared from her skin. He knew it would still haunt him. He looked away before replying.

"We aren't going anywhere; the two of us aren't, anyway." He noticed her smile fade as he continued looking away, speaking quietly. "I'll need a list of everything you'll need apart from the school supplies and someone will get yours along with ours."

After many long, silent minutes, he looked up at her. He had expected a tantrum, a sneer or a rude comment at the least but what he saw in those eyes, however, was fear. It made his guilt more profound. But there was something else he could not exactly understand.

"They are leaving me here? Alone? With you?" she whispered, all traces of joy from moments ago erased from her voice.

Hermione was glad to find that he at least had the decency to look ashamed. For weeks now she had refrained from acknowledging his presence, not because she didn't actually notice. It was difficult for a lot many reasons. A part of her wanted to claw and rip him to shreds for his audacity, but her self-preservative instinct knew better. Physically, without her wand, she was no match for him. But that wasn't all.

But that wasn't all.

Somewhere deep within she knew that despite all that she believed and told Daphne, a very tiny part of her was attracted to him.

It was infuriating and irrational.

But try as she might, she couldn't deny those unexplainable things he made her feel during those long hours in the library when all he did was sat and watched her. No one had ever looked at her that way. Surely she had had her own set of suitors, but Ronald Weasley had something else, something she could not exactly define, something she couldn't even comprehend properly if she thought about it.

And yet, he was also a Weasley. Poor and from a blood traitor family- two things a perfect suitor wasn't meant to be. His Muggle-loving father and minimal fortune did nothing for him. His only claim to fame was his link with Potter. But most importantly, his and his family's alliance was with Harry Potter, the boy who stood in the path of the Dark Lord. The odds against him were simply too many to be overlooked just for the sake of a fluttering in the heart.

The kiss- if one could even call it so- that fateful afternoon was her deepest fantasy come true.

It was just another day at the Hogwarts library. Hermione had been working on her Runes while Daphne had been away at Divination. Weasley had arrived shortly after her and occupied a table a little ahead but in her direct line of sight. She had avoided looking at him for the longest amount of time possible but she had felt his eyes on her and yet, something in the way he watched her, did not make her feel uncomfortable. It made no sense. She had barely been able to concentrate on her work, the urge to look up, acknowledge his presence and meet those gorgeous eyes had been paramount. Finally, unable to reign in her emotions, she had given in to the temptation. There was something raw in that look... Their eyes met and ever so slowly his gaze dropped to her lips... It could have been a matter of a few heartbeats and then he suddenly looked up, thoroughly embarrassed, ears flaming. She ought to have been offended but she wondered why she wasn't- maybe it had something to do with that mindboggling pull below her navel. All she could think of was having that handsome face close to hers, close enough for her to count those innumerable freckles, close enough for her to run her fingers through that gorgeous hair. She craved to know if his lips could fulfil the promise his eyes held. The blush that had crept up her cheeks wasn't a pretence. Even after he looked away, it took a substantial amount of time for her brain to kick in and admonish her for her foolishness.

The feeling of that afternoon had disappeared, buried in the depths of all she knew was right and appropriate for her status and upbringing, and only returned to the surface in her dreams. In the depth of the night, when her defences were at the lowest, she dreamt of that face, wondered what could have happened if she took that chance, wondered how it would feel to have his lips on hers.

And now she knew.

She shuddered to think how he had forced her to thank him. She had actually lost her voice but not out of fear. She couldn't recognise the guy he had suddenly transformed into- it was as intriguing.

And she had wanted him to continue. She had wanted him to act out his threats.

It was irrational and crazy and accepting the fact that Ron Weasley had somehow managed to pull down her guard was mortifying. So she chose the route: blame him rather than face her true self.

The truth was although she hadn't reciprocated physically, she had surrendered willingly. But Ronald did not know that. His demeanour was a clear indication that he felt guilty. And this, her brain knew, was her trump card. It would be rather foolish to let this opportunity go to waste. However, there was a flaw in the plan. If he approach again, there was a fair chance that he would find out how her treacherous body reacted to his touch and she couldn't let that happen.

"I'll keep away from your room," he said breaking her internal musings, his voice cold but sincere.

"I still don't trust you," she spat. And I don't trust myself either, she finished in her head.

"Look, Granger," he paused and swiped his tongue over his lower lip making her groan quietly. "I...I crossed my limit that day. I'm I'm sorry...You have my word now that it won't ever happen again."

She laughed derisively partly out of annoyance at herself, ignoring the slight hint of dismay in his words. "What is the value of your word anyway?"

"Nothing in your eyes, I'm sure. But it means a lot to me. Just as you have reminded me, many a times before, I don't really have anything else apart from-" he exhaled, "-from this."

Ron felt extremely vulnerable and hated her for not only bringing out his root insecurities to the fore, but also making a mockery out of it. But after what he had done, he owed her that reassurance and he deserved this humiliation. He took a deep breath focusing on his sole task, her safety.

"We both know we hate each other and that nothing will change that. But I have a task to fulfil no matter what. I assure you, whatever happened will not be repeated."

She glared at him and was slightly taken aback at his steel reserve. He did not break the gaze and continued looking back at her. It did not help at all that she still found his eyes rather alluring. It was a while before she looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer, realising how different those eyes looked from the ones she remembered from the library.

A/n: Thanks a tonne for reading. Please drop me a review if possible.

I am still posting it from my phone. Please ignore typos for now.