A/N: Another quick update. This was originally planned as a part of the previous chapter but that got way too long.

Enjoy and please don't forget to drop a review.

All characters mentioned here belong to JKR.

Chapter 25: A Sleepless Night

She had a hundred questions to ask him. They were all bombarding her brain currently and berating her for not speaking when she had the chance. But then the headmaster had dismissed her so suddenly! How on earth had that hour passed so fast? Would she get another chance to find answers that only the old man seemed to have? Could she ask him during the Apparition lessons perhaps? Or would he concentrate only on the lesson, and dismiss her yet again? Where would she find her answers then? Maybe she could ask Harry? Would he know? Was she even allowed to confide in the boys?

"You want me to assist Harry and Ron to bring him down, don't you Sir?"

"Yes, Miss Granger. Harry could do with some help from your exceptional brilliance."

"Will they trust me, Professor?"

"You have to build that trust by yourself, my dear."

"Do you believe me?"

"I think I do."

Did that mean she could trust the boys with this horrifying secret? Would they believe that she had no intentions of becoming the next Bellatrix Lestrange or would it intensify the doubt they already had and shatter any chance of a friendship forever? Will they be as repulsed by her as she felt for herself?

"Harry I need to go back to Dumbledore's office, now!" she said suddenly, stopping and tugging on his arm. In the darkness and hidden under the invisibility cloak, she could not make out his features but assumed that he would have been taken by surprise.

"Now?" he asked perplexed.

"Yes now! Come on, please let's hurry." To her relief he obliged without any further questions and the two half ran half jogged up back on the same way they had just come from. She was panting slightly as she knocked on the knocker and waited, and waited.

When at least ten minutes passed without any sound from the other end, Harry tugged on her arm gently.

"Let's go back, Hermione."

"Can we wait a little longer please?" she pleaded.

"I don't have a problem with that, Hermione. But I don't suppose the Headmaster will be available no matter how long we wait," he reasoned.

She agreed half-heartedly, and once again they began trudging along the dark corridors back to the Gryffindor Tower. It was much too late already and without further ado, Harry left her alone in her Chamber to get his much-needed sleep.

Once she had changed and settled down, she reflected back on everything that had happened since morning. It had been a good start to the day, and the only regret was that she was back in her chambers. She could hardly wait for Ron to get discharged. She was also keen to share the happenings of the meeting with them.

But her doubts lingered somewhere in the peripheries of her thoughts. What if they did not believe her? It was not as if she had earned their trust. She had barely reached a point where all of them were trying their level best to reach a sense of normalcy and Ron was trying the hardest. She was no fool. The issues were way too complicated to have got sorted by a single outburst. She knew he was trying to make up for his behaviour the previous night, trying to hide his guilt with an over-enthusiastic attempt at friendship.

She rolled over to the other side and clutched the blanket tightly. Hermione did not wish to spend the night going over Dumbledore's words. But no matter how much she tried his words and his piercing blue eyes crept back into her thoughts. It freaked her out and made her feel dirty. How had the Dark Lord even assumed that she would be willing to side with her parent's murderers? How had he assumed that she would be willing to lead her life following his orders, killing, maiming and torturing the others for fun? How had he assumed that she was so evil within?

Once, you did find his power fascinating Hermione.

She hated that voice, the one that spoke her heart and brought out the darkest of her thoughts to the fore. Yes, she did. She indeed found his power and his magic fascinating. But that was months ago, wasn't it? In a different lifetime where power and blood purity made sense. She might not have thought of murdering people herself, however, the news of the ongoing killings had not disturbed her as they should have. They seemed so much a part of life, a small fragment of news that made no difference, like the first time she had heard the screams of a man in the dungeons. A long lost memory surfaced, and she could almost see a younger version of herself walking down the parlour, asking her Father about the screaming.

"Nothing child. Just a servant being punished for failing his duties." He had replied casually as he continued to study the paper-works.

"Isn't it hurting him?" she had asked.

"Perhaps it is. But he deserves it. Now off you go." He had said.

She had asked her Mother the same question with the result that Mrs Granger had called her child's nanny and chimed the poor maid for bringing the little girl downstairs at this hour. Soon Hermione had been whisked away by the old nurse.

"Why are they hurting him?" she had asked the old maid, annoyed at being denied a proper answer.

"Because poor Hopkins has brought his wife to the mansion." She had replied in a low whisper.

"So? You bring your son too! You are not punished, are you?" she had asked immediately.

"No little miss, but I am a pure-blood and so is my son. Hopkins's wife is a..."

" A muggle?" she had asked with wide, surprised eyes. Nothing could be worse than a muggle, her mother had said. Muggles and poor people.

"No missy, she is a- a mudblood." Whispered the old witch, fearful herself.

"A mudblood? What is that?" she had asked surprised and in return had been hushed by the frightened woman.

"No missy! You should not utter these words! Master will slay me if he knows I have told you!"

"Alright! Alright! But what is a..." she whispered the rest. "mudblood?"

"Mudbloods are witches and wizards born to muggles. No one knows how it happens but once in a while they happen to enter our world. Bad thing it is, for muggles should not know we exist."

No further questions had been encouraged, and Hermione remembered having looked up various books in the absence of any other source of information. However, the enormous library in the mansion had failed her which had surprised her greatly. It wasn't before she had come to Hogwarts that the word had come up again, during their second year.

The Dark Lord's scheme to rid the wizarding world of muggle borns had not bothered her when her Father had disclosed it for the first time. Protected by the high walls of her palatial home, the terrors of the real world had seemed insignificant. But that had been before she had seen death for herself.

The rotting carcass of her once home had blurred the line between reality and her assumed image of the world. It was as if someone had slapped her out of the fantasy world and thrown the reality on her face.

This new world was dark, hopeless and smelt of death and decay. There was nothing in this future worth looking forward to, not a soul she could call her own, no family, nothing. All her beliefs of pureblood supremacy, the thought that they could not be touched had been shattered to pieces. In fact, her pure blood parents had been the first to be sacrificed in the altar for this new world order. The fate of the Grangers was a lesson to all, a reminder that similar destiny would greet them if they dare stand in the path of Dark Lord's quest to unfathomable power.

If and when the Dark Lord won, each and every witch and wizard would be reduced to a slave, even his own followers. The Death Eaters would be free to torture, to kill or maim as they pleased but at the end of the day, their lives would belong to their lord, to be cast aside and killed themselves when he fancied. No freedom of thought or action, no light, no love. Suddenly she began to choke as a dark world materialised in front of her eyes. A world in which there would be no laughter and no joy but pain and torture and fear and death all around. A world that was all black.

She removed the covers quickly and left the bed. She needed to talk to somebody, get out of the confines of these walls that seemed to collapse on her. The darkness was overbearing, so she lit the candles and started the fire. The warmth spreading through the room helped marginally but not as much as she needed. Running ahead, she knocked softly on the wooden door that led to Harry's side, not even sure that he could hear her. It was a long wait, and she knocked harder and after several tries, she decided that the charms quite possibly cut off the sound. Walking back towards the couch, she decided that she would tell the boys the truth. It was quite heavy a burden to be carried around alone. And hopefully, they would understand.

...

Ron couldn't wait to get his normal life back. It was boring really, lying on the same bed for hours with nothing much to do except wait for Harry or Ginny. Even the poor bloke looked washed out; after all, he had been awake since dawn break and still managed to come down in the evening after classes.

Ginny had visited as well and Luna had accompanied her this time. The two girls looked ill with this being their O. W. L year. No wonder he hadn't seen much of Luna this term. They chatted a while, and he enjoyed the distraction of the Ravenclaw's crazy talks. But back in his bed all alone in the hospital wing, the annoying feeling in his chest was intensifying once more.

Try as hard as he might, Ron couldn't forget the interaction he had had with Hermione. With a clenching in his innards, he once again remembered that he had actually threatened to rape her. He could easily feel the reddening of his ears and neck in embarrassment and shame. His nasty temper had really got the better of him there. It was not like he had forgiven her but he just wasn't able to hold on that anger any longer. Not after last night.

He could not forget the sight as he gripped her close, and angled her anguished face to meet her lips with his. Merlin, she was beautiful! The way she had closed her eyes and given in tore his heart. Not once did she try to escape or fight back. Not once did she squirm in his tight embrace, in the rough way he handled her. Not once did she plead or try to defend herself. Had it not been the tears that rolled down her eyes, or the fury that ran through his veins at that moment, it could have been a perfect scenario of how he truly wanted her, up close, in his arms. But there wasn't anything remotely romantic there. He had almost become a brute who used his superior physical strength to force himself on a defenceless girl. He could not be more ashamed.

Her actions baffled him. It was as if she had surrendered to his will despite being aware of the repercussions of his threat. How had they managed to fuck up the situation like they had? Thank Merlin, he had not gone ahead with it. Caught or not, it would have scarred his soul forever.

Above all, despite everything she had stayed and not just that, she had soothed him somehow. Ron had no clue how it worked. He had been fighting this anger for weeks, and no matter what he tried, nothing had given him peace. She had, although she was herself the reason for his pain. The way she had held him in her arms, his face buried in the soft space below her breasts, had felt like a gush of cold air that had extinguished the flames, an apology, a promise, a caress all rolled in one.

The feeling both consoled and scared him. It was everything he wanted from her. But at the same time, he was not sure if he could ever trust her with his heart again. The complexity of the situation was overbearing. On one hand he was positive that he was way past the point where he could stop loving her, that wasn't an option, but, on the other hand, he had no strength left to trust her again. The events of the previous night had given him a hope that perhaps, she did reciprocate some bit of it, even if it was only limited to physical attraction. But giving it a chance would mean risking getting hurt again. And that, he was absolutely sure, he was not ready for.

He would rather be just friends, cordial but nothing more. And he did owe her that after his dishonourable actions the previous night. There was no doubt that, the Headmaster felt that she would be an asset in the upcoming war, and that was what he would concentrate on too, helping Harry vanquish He-who-must-not-be-named. If she passed Dumbledore's tests then, he would trust her with their mission, but that would be all. His heart would have to be satisfied with being an acquaintance, maybe even a friend, but nothing more.

Ron decided he would not hope for anything positive or even try for it when it came to Hermione Granger.

A/N: Thanks to each one of you for your continued support. I can't express how much your reviews, and notifications of you following the story means to me.