A/N: I feel so humbled by your fantastic reviews. Believe me it's the support of all you guys reading it that makes this story come to life. So Thank YOU!

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All characters, props and places mentioned here belong to JKR. The plot line is mine.

Chapter 18: Darkness and a Sliver of Light

"Err... Hi..." mumbled Harry in a low tone and Hermione replied just as softly. Guarded on either side by the boys and hidden under the ingenious cloak, the three trudged along quite passageways towards her safe quarters in the Gryffindor Tower.

She took in a deep breath trying hard not to think how everything around her was different from what she had hoped it would be. There was no chance of going back home now... There was no longer anyplace called 'home' anymore, she realised with a chocked sob, no writing letters to her Father, no waiting for him to come to her rescue. Tears that were barely hidden beneath the surface sprang up to life clouding her vision again, a whimper escaping her dry lips. She felt the boys stop and turn at her even though her eyes were firmly focused on a blurry image that were her shoes. She hated feeling vulnerable and broken down in front of them although to be honest Ron had seen her in even worse conditions. But it wasn't just him now, Potter was there too. It was a complex mix of emotions to feel so weak and helpless and let a person you assumed to be your enemy see you and at the same time know that all that you had been taught to believe in blindly was questionable in the first place.

"Come on..." said a voice as she felt those warm, familiar long fingers wrap around hers and she drew in strength from their joined hands. If Potter wondered about the sudden change in equation between them, he did not comment and they continued their pace. Once they had almost reached the portrait of the Fat Lady however, the boys pulled her into a gap in the walls that was hidden behind a long tapestry and Potter extracted himself out of the cloak. She stood confused as Ron tugged on her hand wordlessly and the couple followed silently in the other boy's wake. The two best mates hardly spoke a word but she realized that they moved together like a pair of twins who knew exactly what was going on in the other's mind. Potter spoke the password and within the tiny space of time when he deliberately dawdled in front of the now open portrait hole, Ron had successfully pulled her inside.

The cloak was pulled away as soon as the door closed and Ron left her hand to crash down on a couch that had seen better days. Hermione stood where she was though, feeling suddenly exposed and surprised at not having being taken away to her chambers immediately as always.

"Sit." Called the taller boy and she looked between her two companions before she took tentative steps forward to occupy a large armchair by the fire. She noted Potter was still standing glancing between his best mate and their Sytherin refugee, his furrowed brows and calculating expression making it obvious that he was still lost.

"Care to tell me what exactly is going on Ron?" he asked finally. Ron responded by stretching his arms above his head and then massaging his shoulder, finally gave a look that simply told him, "Later."

Harry glanced down irritably at his best mate not missing the torn jacket or the mud stains on that red hair. Wait ! Was that blood? He turned around Granger. Even without having had any one to one conversation with her, he was aware of the fire that she personified, the fire which was very much present when the duo had left the night before. Now she looked broken and dishevelled. The slouched shoulders, the tear stricken face and mud and grime on her face was so distinctly different from her prim and proper self that he was surprised enough to spent moments staring at her before she felt his gaze and turned her head to meet his eyes. He shook his head apologetically and looked away.

Where had the two been all this time to return like this?

"Care for some hot tea the two of you?" he asked. Surely spending summers at the Burrow was rubbing off him. A steaming mug was on Molly's first aid list for everything from a broken heart to surviving a deadly duel.

"And food." yawned Ron.

"Well you might want to change before you go down." Replied his best mate, "But another ten minutes and we'll miss breakfast. I might as well go down to the kitchen and ask Dobby if he can get us a few sandwiches at least." He picked up the invisibility cloak and looking once between the pair let him out.

Ron watched Harry leave and turned around at the only other figure in the room. It was a little strange having her here in their common room, a bit different from how he was used to.

"Err... I suggest you should freshen up a bit, Harry shouldn't take long." He said softly and she left her chair wordlessly, still looking down which he assumed was just a way to hide her tears. He followed her as she went towards his bed and paused. He pressed his hand on the marked spot and the passage to her chambers appeared. She glanced at the archway and slowly turned around and looked him in the eye. Those brown pools were bloodshot and she blinked as they cascaded down the well worn path on her cheeks.

"Thank you, for... for everything that you have done for me." She said in a quiet voice. "I –"she began but stopped as if at loss for words or unable to focus on the conversation.

"It's alright." He replied solemnly. "It wasn't anything pleasant and I am sorry for... you know..." he stumbled at the word his brain generated- 'your parents'. "Well...Everything." he said instead.

She nodded and climbed up the bed and went to the other side. "I'll come in some time and we can have breakfast together." He called to his own surprise.

...

The warm water that gushed down his back soothed his aching muscles as his palms rested on the wall ahead. He had planned for a dip in the pool in the prefect's bathroom but had hit the shower instead because it would be quicker. There were still quite a few scratches and bruises he had missed and they stinged painfully as they came in contact with the soap. His scalp hurt at places too. All in all he was glad they had left the place in one piece. A nagging voice inside him chided for being so helpful to the girl who had meticulously planned it out, and if all went as per her plan she would not have felt even a tad bit sorry for him either. But she had come to him when he was getting attacked by the Willows, hadn't she? A small bubble of hope materialized despite himself. She had come back for him in the forest and she had cared for him in that ward. A nerved twitched at the way her soft hands had felt on his back, the way her eyes scanned his bare chest and gaze dropped down till she blushed furiously and looked away, the way her chest heaved at the closeness... He closed his eyes allowing the water to slide down and the memory to wash over him... Just this once he told himself...

Her fingers were soft, softer than he had realised when they held hands and struggled to escape the snow and the cold. And they were gentle and caring as they applied the ointment on his aching back. He wondered if the soothing effect was due to the substance she was applying or her touch. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply cutting out the pain that had almost escaped his lips as she touched a particularly sore spot. The thick coat of the gooey paste she had applied cooled it substantially and he released a sigh of relief only to stop suddenly. She was softly blowing over his back...

The sensation was mind blowing, the feeling of having her so close, those slightly parted lips his could easily picture in his mind, the way her breath both tickled and aroused him simultaneously. He turned around without warning and suddenly she was blowing on his chest instead, eyes closed.

"Hermione..." he called despite himself, knowing well how her name sounded from his lips, dripping with lust and longing. She stopped abruptly and met his eyes coyly before lowering them again, licking her dry lips and gulping softly. He watched the moisture glistening on the now slightly parted pink on her face, her chest was heaving rather fast and Ron felt the room getting warmer, the pristine white bed was looking more inviting by the minute and for a purpose distinctly different from resting his aching limbs.

She met his eyes again and this time he clearly saw the determination and possibly a slight bit of challenge in those brown orbs- a challenge for him to take what she knew he wanted, what he realised with a jolt she wanted too but just then a single tear dropped down and in that moment, he for once understood the unspoken message – she was ready to give herself up if only to forget for a while the pain that tore her insides, if only to feel wanted and a sense of belonging somewhere. It broke his heart more than he thought it would and he knew she felt the change in his eyes as her own pleaded him to get on and act on his basic impulse.

His hand almost reached up to tangle in her hair so he plunged them deep inside his pocket instead. There was no way he was taking advantage of her when she was so broken and deluded by grief.

"We... We are tired and messed up. Let's just...pretend this never happened." He said struggling to sound normal and realising that nothing had happened between them in the first place. She looked at him in shock and pain before turning away.

"Granger..." he called as he pulled down the shirt and put it on and then moved in front of her as she stood her ground but faced away. An apprehensive hand gently moved to tuck a stray lock behind her ear and she finally looked at the owner.

"You need rest... you don't know what you are asking for... Trust me...if... if we... well... You'll regret it Hermione." he finished with difficulty. Emotions baffled him and at times at these, fancy words were never exactly his forte. She looked embarrassed and nodded while Ron let out a deep breath both cheering and cursing himself for what he had done. Moving away from her and hiding behind the curtain, Ron pulled on his torn jumper and jacket, all the while concentrating on creepy images like Umbridge snogging Flinch to control a special part of his anatomy that was protesting loudly about the sudden change of events.

...

Harry was sitting on the couch, three plates of sandwiches and same number of cups occupied the table before him. He turned around as the portrait door opened Ron walked in.

The taller boy threw the small clothes bag on a spare chair and sat himself down.

"Looks like it has been a rough night for the two of you." Said Harry as he picked up the steaming mug and took a deep sip.

"Well yeah." Replied Ron as he pulled out a plate and then placed it back again.

"Care to tell me now or will you drag it on forever?" asked Harry annoyed.

Ron took a deeper breath and turned to face around his best mate. There was so much to say... He started from the beginning.

...

"So she finally believes it now?"

"Yeah."

The boys sat quietly watching into the fireplace. Ron hated keeping things from Harry but there were a few instances that felt way too private to share even with his best mate.

"What now? Do you think this will change how she views the two sides?" inquired Harry breaking his momentary distraction.

"If this doesn't, nothing else will." He replied watching the untouched plate of food and the only cup that held a now cold tea.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about all this? Surely you know you could have been hurt bad. I'm not sure if she planned it that way but there always was a chance." Ron could see Harry was holding himself from blurting out an 'I told you so!'.

"I admit it was a risk. But it's all over now, isn't it?" he replied stifling a yawn. His aching muscles needed rest and while the potions and antidotes healed and cured they did not really make up for a sleepless night. Harry wasn't looking very bright either.

"Guess we should catch up on that sleep we lost." He said stifling a second yawn.

"What about Granger's breakfast?" asked Harry indicating the plate as he got up.

"I'll just give it to her." Said Ron as he picked it up after casting a warming charm on them walked towards their room before his friend. Even though Ron had not hinted at it at all, Harry was sure this was a turning point in the redhead's relationship with their guest. He could almost see it. But he would have to keep an eye out. Ron would not take well to another heart break and it was never clearer than now that the ginger was still besotted with the curly haired witch.

...

"Granger?" he called softly and placed the plate and cup down on the centre table. The entire place was eerily silent.

"Granger?" he called a little loudly this time and walked towards the door of her bedroom noticing the wand that was kept over the drawer. The door was still closed and placing a tentative hand on the knob he pressed his ears on the wood but all was silent still. Worried, he knocked on the door with his knuckles again.

"GRANGER?" he called loudly still and then with a tired sigh turned the knob.

It was unlocked and opened easily to reveal a small but tidy room with a made up four poster bed with green and silver curtains. There was a large window with a clear view of the Quidditch pitch. He roughly looked around noticing a wardrobe and finally a smaller door. He stood for a minute contemplating on his next course of action but anxiety soon caught over and he pace quickly and knocked softly on the door.

"Granger?"

"Her- Hermione?" he called again.

"Ron?"

He really thought he must be hearing voices but she sounded hoarse like she had been crying but also kind of relieved to hear his voice perhaps?

"Are you alright in there? It's been almost an hour now!"

"R-Really? Oh... I'll be there..." she replied in a soft voice and he could hear her stumbling out of the bath and water splashing around. He could almost picture her –

"Err... I-I guess I'll wait outside." He replied quickly and moving out of the room, pulled the door close behind him.

...

Hermione mechanically wrapped the towel around her torso. Her fingers were crinkled and white. She looked into the mirror, seeing but hardly noticing herself as water dripped down her curls on her shoulder. Had it really been so long? Her throat seemed parched as she pulled the door open to an empty bedroom. From the moment she had come inside her chamber, the memories from her past had been swirling around in front of her eyes. The way her mother smiled as they walked in the gardens, the way she sat with her father in the library discussing everything from ancient magic to politics, the way she remembered them together and then the horrifying black pool that was all that was left of her home and family. The pain had not lessened a bit from the time she had seen the visual, each minute the loss seemed to become more real, the future darker and more hopeless. She wished she could have died along with them, she wished she could have seen them just one more time to tell them how much she loved them, hugged her mother one more time, just one more time... She wished she could have done something to save them... As the tears cascaded down again, she pulled out one dress from the bottom of the trunk that she had been given and packed by mistake. Then taking a deep, shaky breath she changed.

Ron cast another warming spell on the cup. She was taking long still and he was tempted to knock again when the door opened. He looked at the figure who came out, trying mentally to match this girl with the Hermione Granger he knew but failing miserably. She wore black, but it wasn't just the colour but the dress. It was a gown one wore when in mourning.

He wanted to tell her that the mourning period was long gone but he did not.

"We figured you must be hungry." He said instead and guided her towards the couch. She took a seat but did not bother picking up the food or the tea.

"I don't feel like eating." She muttered softly but he picked up the mug and handed it to her none the less.

"But you must. Starving yourself won't solve anything." He said as he took the single couch next to her, watching intently at the mug in her hands.

She took it because she wanted him to stay. The loneliness of the chamber made her grief more profound like pieces of actual dagger that pierced through her heart.

Ron watched the shivering of her hands that held the hot beverage and groaned internally wishing that his Mum was here to help. He had no clue how to help her. Eventually fearing that she would spill the hot liquid on herself, he got up from his place and sitting down next to her, pulled the mug away and placed his hand gently on hers.

There wasn't much Hermione could do to hold herself in. Turning around slightly she buried her face in his chest, not caring if he would shun her away, she was much too broken to care about pride and way too deep in need for comfort, even if it was rooted in sympathy rather than love. For the second time Ron decided to go with the flow as he wrapped his arms around her and placed his chin on her still wet hair as she sobbed into his chest.

"T-They did n-not deserve to d-die like this..." she managed between sobs.

"No they didn't." He replied softly.

"They...They deserved a p-proper f-funeral at least." She muttered before breaking down in heart-wrenching sobs again and he held her closer. He allowed her to cry her heart out which she did and it was a long time before the sobs turned to occasional whimpers. It was longer before she made an effort to move in his arms or he left her.

"I-I'm sorry..." she said finally as she moved slightly and he removed his hands. She wiped the last tear with her sleeves, looking worn out. He stared at her for a while and then warmed the tea again. He placed the mug in her hands.

"Drink. This will help." She took a sip and he picked up the sandwich.

"I'm not hungry."

"Starving yourself won't really help."

She laughed a small mirthless laugh. "Nothing will help."

"Look Granger, I admit I don't know how painful it must be for you but you can't stop life from moving on." He tried.

"Moving on? What do I have left to live for Ron?" she asked in anguish. "I don't have a family, don't have a home, what do I live for? I don't even belong anywhere."

"Surely you do, you are not living on the streets are you? I know it's going to sound rude but what you are mourning has happened months ago really and still you are here, care for and kept safe."

She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Why is the Order doing this for me? They could have let me die." She asked in a quiet voice.

He ignored the painful image that came up at her words. "Because that is what our side does. Save as many as we can."

"Save from what? That is the final eventuality anyway. He is going to win and you know it. No one has a chance. Why fight?" she asked hopelessly.

"You really can't be saying that Granger!" he exclaimed. "I know we are up against a possibly impossible task but we have to try. I know there will be causalities and not like we haven't lost people. Look at Harry, look at Neville both have lost parents to the war in one way or the other, doesn't mean we'll give up."

"Even though you will put your family at risk?" she asked.

"My family will be targeted anyway because we are the blood traitors remember? And almost everyone is in the Order anyway. Doesn't mean I am not scared to lose them, I am, very much. But we have been in this forever and there is only one way to go now, forward. We fight to the end, either the end of the war or the life."

She looked at him in awe and he finally left the couch to stand up. "Come on." He called extending a hand, she took it unquestioningly and together they left the room again.

...

She was sitting on his bed as Harry and Ron occupied the opposite one. It had been hours since they had come out of her chamber and she had spent a relatively pleasant day with the boys for company. It had been snowing all day and the trio sat together in the common room first where she had sat doing her homework occasionally watching the two best friends as they played chess and later on, solely on her urging pulled out their own home works grudgingly. It was a different kind of experience as neither of the two was as dedicated as Daphne used to be and more often than not their discussions drifted to Quidditch or something else. They discussed their essays and she corrected their sentences and oddly enough liked it. It took her mind off the unpleasant thoughts. They even had their dinner in the common room and finally moved to the dormitory where she sat on Ron's bed realizing that she was actually dreading going back to her lonely quarters again. The two had apparently forgotten about it for Ron made no attempts to unlock the door and she did not remind him. Instead they sat together chatting. The bed was soft and not really made well but it smelled like him which made it all cosy. Before she knew she was wrapped in his blankets and fast asleep.

She did not notice the two boys share a knowing smile or the look of adoration that the taller of the two send her way as he moved away to occupy another spare bed.

A/N: This chapter took horribly long time to come out the way I wanted it to. Really hope you liked it. Please leave a review. I will respond to all your reviews for the previous chapter in this space latest in the next 24 hrs.

Thanks for reading!