A/N: I would have posted this sooner but my internet connection has been down for two days now (sigh). Anyway, I really hope this chapter lives up to your expectations from this story.

It's a little descriptive but sets the stage for so many things that are soon to follow. I am a little finicky when it comes to illogical situations in AU stories, hence I try keeping the logic loops closed. Please bear with me on that count.

Loving the fact that you all are enjoying reading this story just as much as I am enjoying writing it.

Happy reading and please don't forget that review

All Characters belong to the fantastic JKR. This crazy plot is mine, though.

Chapter 8: A Lesson on Trust

The afternoon of 31st August found Ron and Harry lounging in the living area of Grimmauld Place. Ron had his long legs stretched out in front of him as he sat in an old high back armchair while Harry was lying across the creaky old couch.

"By this time tomorrow we'll be on the train," mused Harry softly, his eyes on the dusty chandelier above.

"Yeah... Can't wait to get out of this place myself," Ron intoned.

"What are you talking about?" grumbled Harry, "Haven't you been leaving every single day for a jog?" he muttered angling sideways to glare at Ron. "It's me who hasn't been allowed to set foot outside since we got here. Pretty much locked in here both Granger and I." he added grumpily.

"Hah," Ron snorted. "Half an hour in this horrid half-concrete park-" he indicated vaguely towards the windows from which the said location could be seen- "You call that a break? It's a ruddy substitute to flying! And what the fuck are you complaining about anyway? You went to Diagon Alley!"

"Once!" retorted Harry, smiling at the memory.

"That's more than none at all!" muttered Ron, absentmindedly picking on the worn leather of the armchair.

Harry looked at him for a while and snickered before turning away. "Complain about it all you want, mate, it's done you some good. Reckon Lavender will be eager for some snogging this year."

Ron let out a bark of a laugh. "Well, yeah, if she can look past my trousers which seem to have shrunk again!"

"Girls like that kind of stuff," replied Harry wisely before the both of them burst out laughing.

"Blimey, Harry! no wonder Cho ran away crying after you snogged her!" he laughed. "Your understanding about girls is bonkers!" Silence reigned as their laughter died down and somehow the light-hearted banter and the prospect of going back to school brought back more important concerns. "How d'you reckon this year will be?" he asked.

"I don't really know but different, I guess." mused his friend.

"Darker," he observed aloud.

"Yeah, definitely." Harry exhaled quietly. "I wonder what Dumbledore has planned for my sessions with him." Ron had wondered about it too.

"It's no use trying to guess, innit?" he replied. "When have we ever understood what that old man is up to?" Ron thought about the person living on the third floor. He knew, in term of strategy, Dumbledore was miles ahead of the. He straightened up in the chair, and pulled down his slightly tight t-shirt, grumbling under his breath.

"Are you talking about Granger?" asked Harry, pushing himself up into a sitting position as well but with his back still resting against the armrest. He was very glad that Ron had finally come down to normal, well not completely, but at least as normal as Harry had seen him before his assignment had been handed to him. Harry had a nagging suspicion that there was much more between his best mate and the curly-haired witch than just house rivalries. Although there was no more grumbling from Ron's end about his task, there was still a look of deep loathing that he bore towards their guest. Harry had no clue what to make of it and Ron was still not eager to disclose.

"No. Okay, yeah. I mean, we still haven't figured how Dumbledore expects her to turn over to our side, have we?" replied Ron. "And then I dunno what to make of that strange book he gave her," he added softly.

Ron had brought the apparently cursed book down to their room one night, and just for the sake of precaution, they had thought it prudent for Ron to keep the bottle of antidote handy before they flipped it open. Needless to say, there had been no accidents like with Granger. Harry found it just as Ron had: old, blank and harmless. Remembering Tom Riddle's diary, they had even tried writing on it but it seemed the sheets were charmed to repel ink. Confused and intrigued, Ron had put it back in its old place.

Harry took a deep breath and watched the old grandfather's clock set against the opposite wall. Five more hours before Ginny and the rest of the family arrived.

"I am sceptical about this chamber of hers at Hogwarts," mumbled Ron, breaking his line of thought. "How on earth are we going to keep it a secret from Neville, Dean and Seamus?"

"I have no clue," Harry replied honestly. "Hopefully, we'll find out when she is shifted to the school today."

Dumbledore had informed them the previous night that Hermione would be moved to the school a day prior to the rest of the students. She had a couple of options, however. She could either chose to be drugged and travel unconscious along with a Senior Member of the Order, or she could travel by Floo directly into a teacher's office from where she would be escorted to her new living quarters. Ron who would continue to be her guard and sole point of contact even during her stay at Hogwarts, and irrespective of her mode of travel, he would accompany her. Harry was also required to visit the school along with the two of them for both boys were to be aware of the entrance to her chamber. To keep other students from suspecting, the boys were to return back the same night and take the Hogwart's Express with the rest of the students the following day.

Ron turned to the giant clock. Hermione had selected the second option and provided no explanation. It wasn't exactly hard to guess why. He knew she was wary of being drugged and taken somewhere else. This way she'd at least be aware of her location- and hope for a chance at an escape, perhaps?.

"I guess Kingsley should be arriving anytime now," he muttered keeping his thoughts to himself.

As if on cue, a knock sounded on the main door and the dark wizard entered the room only minutes later.

"Are we ready, boys?" he inquired as he came in while the duo pulled themselves up. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, trying unsuccessfully as ever to bring his messy mop to look a little decent. Ron, meanwhile, picked up the school robe lying on the couch and put it on.

"Alright then. Ron, run upstairs and tie this around her eyes," Kingsley instructed handing out a black ribbon from his pocket. "It's magical and will keep her from witnessing anything of the surrounding. We still can't risk her knowing about this place. Then, you are to bring her down and the two of you will Floo down together to Minerva's office."

Harry nodded but Ron looked at the wizard in confusion.

"Floo down together?" he asked, taken aback.

"Yes, of course." Ron couldn't exactly pinpoint what the Auror could be thinking as he observed Ron for a few minutes before he explained further. "We can't risk her stating another destination. We could have locked the Floo and linked it only to Minerva's office but that will need special approval from the Ministry and we can certainly do without it. As it is, a lot of secret and illegal paperwork has gone into opening the Floo from here. They think it is a nondescriptive cottage in Cornwall. We'll have to be very cautious. You'll have to go with her. Ron. I'll lock it once you both are back." he explained.

Ron did not fancy this at all. He nodded stiffly once.

"Once all three of you are at Hogwarts, Minerva will take over and take you to the Gryffindor tower. Now run along, will you?" he glanced at his watch. "We are getting late"

Ron took a few steps but then paused and turned around as he remembered a flaw in the plan. "But Kingsley, she can't leave the room," he asked, his brows furrowed, remembering the time when the door had closed shut as she tried to escape.

"Ah yes. Well, she can leave the room provided you willingly bring her out."

Ron left quickly feeling slightly uneasy about the whole arrangement.

...

A packed trunk lay at the foot of the bed and a smaller sling bag was on the desk. His mum had purchased Gryffindor school robes in Ginny's size and altered them accordingly for her. Standing near the window, dressed in her high-necked Slytherin school robes, her hair tied in a French braid that hung down her back, she looked so painfully familiar that Ron had to spend a moment clutching the door to get a grip on his memories. His voice came out harsher when he called.

"Are you ready?" he asked averting his eyes.

"Yes." Her voice was calm but once she turned around, he noticed she looked upset. Without thinking much about it, he extended the black ribbon towards her.

"You've gotta cover your eyes before you leave this room."

She took the proffered article and proceeded to picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Before tying the ribbon over her eyes, however, she paused and looked up at him.

"I can't walk out of that door," her jaw clenched, perhaps remembering the events of the day weeks ago, "Have the wards been lifted?" she asked slowly, much too carefully. Ron could make out the tiny hint of hope. He wondered where she wished to escape to anyway but guessed that it was, quite possibly, just a desire to get away from her captivity, from him.

"The wards are still very much in place, so don't get your hopes high, Granger," he replied sternly. "You can only leave the room if I willingly take you out from here."

Hermione hoped her face did not display her disappointment. She nodded and tied the ribbon over her eyes without further questions. Darkness engulfed the surrounding. The cloth was definitely charmed.

"Come towards the door." His voice floated towards her, sending goosebumps for reasons unknown, and she walked slowly towards where she remembered the entrance to be.

"Okay, now walk out of it," he instructed from somewhere to her left. "There'll be a passage to your right, walk ten steps ahead and you'll be at the staircase. There is a railing you can hold on to if you wish."

She tried holding onto his instructions but it was way too much at the same time. She had never seen beyond her door, without memory to guide her she took cautious steps ahead. She had hardly taken a few more steps, her hands stretched ahead of her to keep her balance before she was suddenly pulled aside by a strong pair of arms. A swishing sound was followed by a loud bang and a lot of swearing.

"What the...! Bloody hell! This is supposed to work!" he groaned.

"W-What happened?" she asked as the pressure of his arms left her. She assumed she was on the left but sans the visuals and his support, she felt slightly disoriented.

"The door closed again," he replied shortly. "But I was told..." She heard him sigh and a few minutes passed before he swore softly under his breath. His hand slipped into hers, a slight stiffness in the gesture before she heard the soft click of the door opening again.

"Come," he called in a very strange voice. "I- I'll go slow." This time they stepped out of the door easily. It was a strange feeling. She had lost count of days but for once she felt she could breathe better if only a little.

They went down the staircase slowly and silently as Hermione tried in vain to count the number of steps. Somehow the presence next to hers was causing strange things to happen. She held on to the railing with one hand while his long fingers were wrapped around the other, and she was left wondering if there was some kind of magic that bound her to him in order to prevent her from escaping. But was such magic suppose to make her heart beat fast or even cause the tingling sensation that ran up from where their skin touched? She wasn't really sure.

"A passage now," came his voice from her right and the railing ended leaving her blinded self to rely solely on his voice and the support of his hand.

"We'll walk through a door and reach the Floo. Keep to-" he paused briefly, "-your right."

Right... so she was supposed to stay close to him? She scoffed internally.

A door opened and they walked in. She wondered if there were other people because there possibly was the sound of the scrapping of a chair. Unconsciously, she moved towards the sound only to stub her foot on what was definitely the leg of a table.

"Right not left," he said not too rudely before pulling her towards himself and she caught a whiff of a fragrance she remembered clearly from that fateful afternoon as the sides of their body touched. She hoped that the dizziness had everything to do with walking in a strange place blindfolded and nothing to do with the young guy she was supposed to dislike.

"Stop!" he called suddenly and she stumbled slightly and clung to his hand, with both of hers, trying her best to maintain her balance. There was silence for a while before he spoke again.

"I enter the Floo first and you follow me. Wait for my word."

She wondered why they could not open the blindfold now.

"Open this," she told him indicating the cloth. "I'll hurt myself." There was a pause before he answered as if receiving instructions from someone else in the room.

"I can't, and you won't hurt yourself either. Trust me," he said softly. "Just follow my instructions,"

She huffed and lifted her hand behind her head, but the knot which she surely hadn't tied so tightly did not budge. His hand left hers for a minute, and there was a sound like someone adjusting himself in a small place before both her hands were captured in his.

"Lift your leg, yes, careful. Okay, now get up. Mind your head."

She could feel the walls closer to her left. The floo space was much too cramped for two grown up people. She realised she was facing him with her nose almost touching his chest which seemed to radiate heat, or maybe it was her face?

"Turn around slowly," he said softly and much too close, "and move towards my left. I mean, move to your right." She scuffled to adjust herself and follow the confusing instructions as he held onto her right hand.

"This is crazy," she declared in a voice she hoped sounded annoyed.

"I know." He sounded honest, though.

"Hold on," he murmured again, and then she felt the cool effect of the green flames she knew well as his voice got muffled in the sound of the fire.

The uncomfortable feeling of Floo travel was heightened by the effect of their bodies pressing close in the tight spot, and Hermione was sure she would have scratched her face against the rough walls when his left arm had let go of her. But they only wrapped around her waist pulling her closer to him. Her right palm was now encased in his other hand. Despite her uniform underneath the heavy robes, his touch seemed to scorch her skin in the most maddeningly pleasurable and infuriating way possible. In her effort to control the shivering that arose from deep within, she clung on to the very person causing it. The spinning stopped abruptly, and Hermione was mortified to realise that she was holding his arm tightly in both hers, her body pressed firmly into his. Despite the oddity of their surrounding, she could feel the heat rising up her cheeks and sparks that ran down to her spine. However, Ronald pulled his hand away without warning and moved out of the Floo.

"Miss Granger, Mr Weasley," said a familiar voice before she had adjusted to the suddenly empty space next to her.

"Professor McGonagall!" she exclaimed breathing rapidly.

"Afternoon, Professor," he responded next to her.

A softer hand was extended towards her, and she managed to step out of the fireplace.

"May I please open the blindfold now?" she asked.

She heard the lady heave a sigh. "I am sorry we brought you here like this. And yes, you may open them."

Hermione quickly began work on the blinds while she heard the sound of someone else approaching through the Floo.

"Good afternoon, Professor." said a new voice.

"Afternoon to you too"

Harry Potter.

"Miss Granger?" asked the witch as Hermione still struggled.

"I can't untie it," she responded frustrated and soon a softer pair of hands were working on the blindfold before a spell was aimed at it.

"I am afraid it's not opening," said the professor in a confused voice.

"Maybe it's to avoid her seeing the location of the Common Room, Professor," suggested Potter and Hermione groaned internally.

"Makes no sense. She already knows it. But anyway, if it's charmed that way we can't do much about it now. We'll just have to guide you all the way, Miss Granger," said the elderly witch. Even without being able to see her face, Hermione could make out that the lady wasn't happy with the arrangement.

The walk was long one this time with the Professor guiding her. Grudgingly she found a tiny part of her was disappointed it wasn't Weasley. It was quite a while before she heard a female voice say "Password?" and their teacher replied much too softly for her to hear.

"Mind your head and enter."

The witch helped her through a small door; the change in the temperature was evident. It was much warmer in here and the way their footsteps echoed, she assumed the room to be circular. They went up a flight of steps into yet another space and she heard something like the swish of curtains or perhaps bed curtains open before the deputy Headmistress spoke again.

"Place your palm on the wall, Mr Weasley." Soon, Hermione felt a gentle breeze of fresh air hit her face.

"Miss Granger, enter carefully. Mr Weasley, you too."

Hermione entered through what, she assumed by her sense of touch, a stone archway, and as soon as her foot hit the floor beyond it, the blind fell off. She placed her hand in front of her eyes to guard against the sudden brightness and then squinted, eager to see where she had been brought.

It was a big circular living room with a large window overlooking the Forbidden Forest. She could see the Quidditch grounds on the far right. She noted a door to her right and assumed it to be her bedroom. A small room opened to the left. The whole place looked bright with all the light seeping in and was quite a contrast to the Slytherin common room. Hermione couldn't deny that she loved it.

"Your new living quarters, Miss Granger," said the old witch kindly as Hermione gave her a weak smile.

"How will I attend my classes, Professor?" she asked getting to the point quickly.

"Mr Weasley will provide you with all the assignments for the day, even on the subjects he doesn't take. Any queries or doubts, address it to the concerned teacher and hand it to him. I'll get the answers sent back to you. He is your sole contact point with the school. I hope you understand that it's all for your safety. It's much too dangerous for anyone to know that you are still alive."

She nodded her head solemnly before thinking of something else. "How will I do my practical for my classes here? And I don't have my wand either."

"All your things including your wand have been brought to your room." said the lady kindly. "There is a small room towards your left which will serve the purpose of a classroom. I'll send your routine tomorrow and you will find that it will transform into an appropriate room according to your schedule along with all the things you need. The board in the class will show the notes written on it by the Professor taking the class. You won't be able to hear the teacher speak, however."

"Thank you, Professor." She looked around in awe, realising for the first time, the effort that was being taken not just to keep her safe but ensure her education continued well too. She couldn't help feel a sense of gratitude for the headmaster.

"Professor, won't the people outside be able to see this place?"

Hermione turned around to find him standing near the window.

"No, Mr Weasley. The whole place is charmed invisible and undetectable."

McGonagall gave Hermione a kind nod before turning around to leave before she paused. "I almost forgot. Just one more thing, Miss Granger. I want you to keep this," she said flicking her wand. An empty parchment materialised which was handed over to her.

"Due to the unprecedented circumstances and this arrangement, no one will be able to contact you apart from Ron Weasley. But in any case, if you feel unsafe, for whatever reason, pen it down here and I will get to know immediately. Remember this is for an emergency only," she said sternly to emphasise it was not to be used lightly. Hermione understood that the elderly lady was uncomfortable about keeping two young teenagers in such scandalous proximity without any adult supervision. She turned to see the young man standing at a distance, knowing well that he had heard it too. But the only expression on Ronald's face was a cold brazen look as he gazed at the forest outside.

"Mr Weasley, we leave now," she called and he turned around, and without a word to her, walked out of the room.

A/N: I had planned on answering to each one of you here, but because of the stupid net connection problem, I am just keeping it all typed and ready to be uploaded as soon as I can. My responses will follow the next chapter.

Just because I have not replied yet, please don't feel that I don't enjoy getting your reviews and PMs. I just LOVE them. I'll reply as soon as I possible.