A/N: Finally the reviews are showing!

I am so glad that you guys agree with the characterization of Hermione for this story; that was truly a relief. I'm going to revert to each of your queries but to answer one thing that has come from quite a few of you, well... this story was meant to be dark right from the beginning and I won't give you false hopes and say it will be all flowery. Yes, we have very dark times approaching, but as I said before, there will be a resolution worth the wait.

I might not draw this story beyond the war because honestly, I don't really see this plot extending so far. But yes, if you all are willing to read, I might be able to edit ending, leaving a gap for a post-war sequel.

All Character Rights belong to JKR.

Chapter 41: Breathlessness

All their possessions, from all their clothes to her books and a small assortment of other essential items including a folded up tent, was spread out on the huge kitchen table. Hermione sat in one of the chairs, sorting through the paraphernalia and dividing them into three neat groups.

Her mind kept travelling back to those moments in the early morning hours almost a couple of weeks ago when she had woken up in his bed after a rather peaceful night of sleep. Surprisingly, though, Ron had appeared to not have slept at all. She clearly remembered his stubble that was darker than the previous night and those eyes that looked pained and troubled. Hermione remembered that dread in her heart; it was a look she had seen before and it usually preceded the times when he would slip into one of his moodiness. That look never brought good news. Trying her best to sound cheerful, she had wished him a good morning. He had asked for a promise in return.

Was she surprised? Not really. At least, he had not asked her to go away, or forget whatever unnamed existed between them. He had asked her to put the fight before them; asked her to place the success of their mission before everything. Hermione knew he didn't doubt her dedication to their hunt. Perhaps he was telling her indirectly to keep their feelings in check till they were in better times, perhaps he was setting up limits for himself? She wasn't sure. But she gave him that promise and noticed how the lines near his eyes, the ones that weren't even supposed to be there in the first place, eased at her words and he gave her a broken but relieved sigh.

"What are you doing?"

She turned around to find the very person of her thoughts in front of her. He looked shaggy with that week long stubble he refused to shave and that messy head of hair. He was never one to carefully tuck his shirt in and button up his cuffs, but even by his carefree standards, Ron looked dishevelled. It was not a new sight, in fact, it had steadily deteriorated over the past couple of weeks. Hermione often felt that there was something deep within him that troubled him. Each time Harry managed to nick a newspaper, he would be the first to pull it from his hands and go through it. Neither she nor Harry was unaware of what Ron was searching, and she craved to pull him into a hug and will the anguish on his face away. Most often than not, Harry patted on his back like grown up boys like them were prone to do, a gesture she supposed translated into an understanding hug in their language. But every time, Ron shrugged the hand away and marched off.

She force stopped her train of thoughts and pulled her eyes away from his face.

"Umm... I thought since we are here and settled, I might as well sort our things and take them to our rooms. You know, so that you both don't have to come rushing to me for everything little thing."

"DON'T!"

His sharp voice shocked her and she glanced sideways at Harry who had snapped his head up from the list to watch Ron -the parchment with the list of places they had decided to search for the remaining Horcruxes lay forgotten in his hands.

"Something wrong, Mate?" he asked dropping the parchment on the table, furrowing his brows.

Ron looked lost. It seemed as if there were a hundred things he wanted to say but wasn't able to word out. He glanced between the two of them, cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair.

"N-Nothing. Just keep that ruddy thing packed. Makes me feel safer somehow," he said a little pensively.

"Why? Do you think they'll find us here?" inquired Harry, his brows scrunching up further.

"I-I don't know. I know we have put up more spells and... they might not but-", Ron ran his fingers through his hair again and Hermione noticed how lifeless it looked, nothing like the vibrant and shiny mane she was accustomed to. Ron was still struggling with his words and after a while, his shoulders drooped giving him a defeated sort of look that broke her heart more than anything.

"I can't really explain, okay?" he said in a broken voice and pulling a chair, slumped down in front of them. "We have had two narrow escapes so far," he sighed and met her eyes with his disturbed ones. He picked up the almost empty bag from the table and fingered its beads as he spoke.

"Each time, this tiny thing saved the things that would have been lost otherwise. Just- Just keep it packed."

She knew she would agree to his silent plea. It did not matter that they were perhaps in one of the safest places, it did not matter that Ron's statements seemed to come from an emotional point of view rather than a logically explained perspective, it did not matter that since no one of had come calling so far Harry deemed this place a perfect hideout. If Ron felt safe with the tiny bag packed, she would keep it that way.

...

Harry had not failed to notice how Ron's overall appearance had changed in the weeks following their arrival at Grimmauld Place. He had just been too busy with his thoughts to give Ron more attention. And somehow, this hunt was affecting them all, wasn't it? It was like being put into a giant jigsaw puzzle- they could barely see all the pieces, let alone solve the whole damn thing. Names, images and broken information haunted his days and nights, the more he tried untangling the threads of truth, the worse they got. He felt like he was carrying a lot of weight and not just mentally. It was as if something was choking him from within and more often than not, he was prone to waking up in the middle of the night gasping for air.

"What is the matter, Ron?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. The place where the string of the moleskin pouch he wore touched his skin, felt raw and itchy.

Ron met his eyes, and for the first time, Harry actually noticed how dreadful the other boy looked. Suddenly, he felt anger well inside. What right did Ron have to act so troubled when he was the one who was burdened with the task of saving of their world? The raw skin tingled in a painful way and he felt an urgent desire to remove the pouch just to rid himself of the itch.

"Come on Ron! What the hell is the matter with you?" he spat before he could stop himself. Ron met his eyes with something indescribable in his eyes, something he had never seen in those blue eyes before.

"I'm not exactly sure, mate." He mumbled in response looking away.

"Then find out and get your head in the game!" he said harshly, surprising himself along with the others. The itch was getting more pronounced now. He heaved trying to release the binding sensation inside his throat, rubbing his chest with his hand absentmindedly. But since nothing seemed to help, he pulled the string and removing the pouch, set it aside on the table amidst the other items that were already spread out on it.

"I'm trying."

Harry looked up to meet those blue eyes once more, trying to grasp the reason why he was feeling a little better already. Was the pouch too heavy to be worn around the neck? After all, he had stuffed quite a few thing inside it- the broken piece of Sirius' mirror, the Snitch Dumbledore left him, the locket and last but not the least, the letter and torn piece of the photograph he had found in Sirius' room a couple of weeks back...

"Ron, is something wrong?" Hermione's voice was calm and tender, her hand mere inches away from Ron's. Harry noticed how his best mate glanced away from something to look at Hermione and shook his head a little haltingly.

"Nothing. I- I'm just not feeling very good..."

Hermione was out of her seat in an instant and began fumbling around with a few phials set at the far end of the table. "Oh! Are you feverish? Or, are those bruises hurting you still?" she gushed reading off the labels and glancing at him intermittently.

"I'm sorry, mate," Harry stated, surprised how warm and concerned he felt for Ron, just opposite to how he was feeling a while ago.

"I guess being cooped up is getting on our nerves." He added with a sigh. Yes, that could be the reason. Ron had not stepped out since the day they had arrived, and they were yet to get any news from the Weasleys. He tried looking out for them, but it seemed the entire family was avoiding the Leaky Cauldron. He felt bad about not taking Ron along, or giving him the cloak, but in all honestly, he wasn't sure that Ron would not end up doing something rash like visiting the Burrow. Hermione was coping rather well, but then, he realised with a pang of guilt, she was used to staying in confined quarters for some time now.

"I'm not feverish." Muttered the ginger as Hermione approached him with a small phial. "I'm just-"

"Just what?" he asked but with a lot more concern this time.

"I don't really know..." Ron replied averting his eyes.

"Maybe you need some fresh air." He suggested and the guy opposite to him for once looked like the boy he had known since he was eleven.

"Yeah... I guess..." he added with a hint of a smile.

"Great, then go and change, I'm not talking you out like this." He joked pointing at Ron's dishevelled appearance.

"Oi! We'll be under the cloak anyway!" Grinned Ron in a faint resembled of his earlier self. His eyes still looked tired, though.

"You look like you got out of Hog's Head, mate! Just go!" he responded playfully and watched his best mate shake his head and pull himself up from the chair to walk out. He was sure he heard a 'wanker' as the door closed.

Harry turned around to find Hermione smiling to herself and busy re-packing her bag.

"So you are doing as he said?" he asked pushing himself back on the chair.

"If it makes him feel any better," she responded softly, "And he is right, no harm in staying prepared." She added. He noticed how fondly she drew her palm over the 'R' on Ron's Weasley jumper before carefully placing it inside the bag with the rest of Ron's clothes.

"He looks worn out." He said averting his eyes, concentrating instead on rolling up the parchment he was reading earlier.

"He is worried about his family. It's natural isn't it?" she responded shaking her head sadly as she continued to place little stacks of items inside the bag.

"Yeah, but I don't know... what we can do?"

"Maybe sneak around the Ministry entrance? Maybe you'll be able to see Mr Weasley?" she suggested before shaking her head again. "No, wait! I don't know... Will that be safe at all?!"

"I guess not." He replied with a non-committal shrug although in his heart he knew he would give it a try.

"We've been hiding for almost a month now." She said after a while with a definite hint of sadness in her voice.

"I know..." he replied, a familiar feeling of guilt creeping up his chest at her words. A month- a month since Voldemort had taken over, a month of innumerable deaths and tortures. And what had they accomplished in this one month?

Nothing.

They had retrieved one Horcrux but there was nothing remotely heroic in pulling it out from amidst the sleeping quarters of his house-elf, was there? It would have been a different story if they could have managed to finish it, but that avenue seemed to be closed for good. Perhaps they could sneak inside Hogwarts and get the sword? After all, why wouldn't McGonagall help them with it? It seemed like an idea worth putting their heads into, he thought a little hopefully.

"Harry?"

He looked up to meet Ron's eyes. He looked marginally better with a fresh set of clothes and hair tidied up.

"Do you reckon, it will be safe leaving Hermione here all by herself?"

"I'll be alright." She quipped. "You both go ahead. Just don't be late." She added. But he could see clearly that Ron wasn't convinced.

"Shouldn't we go together?" Ron suggested.

"We three won't fit inside the cloak together, not without displaying our legs." He contemplated aloud.

"Oh, come on both of you! I'll be alright!" she argued back cutting their conversation midway.

Harry looked at Ron who was obviously swaying between his eagerness to leave the house on one hand and his concern about leaving her back alone on the other.

"Kreacher!" he called suddenly and the elf materialised instantly, giving the three of them low bows.

"Kreacher, Ron and I will leave for a while. Stay with Hermione and ensure no one apart from us is able to enter the house." He said. "Can you do it?"

"Yes, Master." croaked back the old creature with another bow. Feeling surer he looked at Ron.

"Ready to go now?" he asked the taller guy who glanced at the tiny form of the elf and the girl who was giving him an encouraging smile.

He heard Ron sigh softly as he returned his gaze.

"Yes."

...

They sat on a broken down bench watching boys slightly younger than them play football. This particular park, as Harry had found out, was not very far away from the Black House and was a common hangout point for teenage boys. It reminded him of the playground near his Aunt's place back in Surrey.

"I envy their carefree life," confessed Ron. They had shed the cloak in a secluded alley, feeling that the open muggle surrounding would help them blend in with a crowd that was almost their age.

"I do it too." Harry agreed, glancing next to the figure who sat with his elbows on his knees, eyes trained on the ball that was passed in between a bunch of dusty boys.

"What's troubling you, mate?" he asked softly, not quite sure how Ron would react. His moodiness and temper were almost his constant companions nowadays and one of the main reasons why Harry had held back from an open confrontation. He wasn't exactly at peace with himself either.

Ron leant back on the bench, prodding the dried grass with the tip if his shoes.

"I told you. I am not exactly sure, Harry. I don't know..." He said and paused. Harry almost let out a frustrated grunt but held himself back just as Ron began to speak again.

"I wonder if it's the place, Harry... I mean...Remember how gloomy Sirius used to be while he stayed here? If I remember correctly he looked far happier living in a cave and feeding on rats than he did staying in this place."

"You do have a point Ron but he had bad memories of this place, and we have stayed here before, you were never like this." He replied.

"I wasn't, was I? But none of us were exactly happy here ever, were we? Remember last year? I used to be angry all the time..."

"That was for a different reason, Ron." He laughed softly although nothing was funny here.

"Yes..." Ron returned a strained grin.

No matter how preoccupied he had been, Harry had not missed how his two friends had resolved whatever issues they had had during their stay in the Granger Forest. He had known better than to intervene and as expected, the two had sorted things out. He thought he knew when that had happened too. After all, that was the night he had found his mother's letter and had come running to Ron. But just before he could knock, he had heard voices and had just about stopped himself from barging in. He had paused only for a few minutes outside the door contemplating on interrupting a private moment, but finally, had left the two alone. They could do with a few hours of peace and he could breathe easier with two best friends who were not tiptoeing in front of each other uncomfortably.

"Harry..."

"Yeah?" he replied looking back at his mate.

"Do you reckon it's the Horcrux?" Ron's words were a murmur and Harry almost didn't hear him amidst all the cheering and voices around them.

"The Horcrux?" he questioned in a low whisper.

"It's been here all this time, what if it causes all these crazy dr-, I mean these crazy thoughts?" he asked consciously.

"I'm not sure if it can work that way, Ron." He replied thinking back on everything they knew about the Horcruxes. The Diary had possessed Ginny, but neither Ron nor Sirius or he for that matter were possessed. He had had the Diary for a while too but he could not remember being so disturbed. He felt around his chest for the pouch realising that he had left it behind at Grimmauld Place, and suddenly Ron's suggestion of keeping their belongings always with them did not seem stupid anymore.

But could that piece of soul, locked inside a gold locket have so much influence over them?

"We can ask Hermione. I hope she finds something in that book of hers." He added finally and turned to look at the players again.

"You don't think we are safe here, do you?" he questioned, still looking away.

"I don't think we are safe anywhere, Harry," replied Ron with a strange sort of strength in his voice that was not there before.

"I've seen what they did to the Granger Mansion, mate. And that place had some of the freakishly crazy precautions around it. If they broke through that, nothing else stands a chance."

Harry couldn't deny he hated Ron for saying these things, especially because he was stating the harsh facts without any coating of hope, however false, however dim.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Stay prepared to move, think of locations we can escape to, and Harry?" he turned those blue eyes towards him and Harry could see that Ron had seriously given some thought to it.

"Tell Kreacher to escape if something does go wrong. All that information is still inside him. If we can get it, he can too."

A chill ran down Harry's spine and he got up hurriedly.

"Let's go."

They walked as casually as they could, and once back in the dark alley, pulled on the cloak over them before apparating back.

The last thought in Harry's mind before the nauseating feeling of apparition took over was how similar their roles in life was to their positions on the Quidditch team- He was the Seeker- the one seeking answers, and Ron was their Keeper – the one guarding them and working on keeping them alive and in the game- till Harry caught the Snitch.

A/N: I know this chapter is shorter than you are used to, but that is because the next part would have to be broken in two parts otherwise and that I wasn't willing to do!

Thanks to each one of you who continue to read this story and motivate me by following and adding this to your favourites. Thanks a lot if you have left me a review. I was unable to answer (yet again) the previous time because my kid fell sick. But this time, I'll start replying right after I upload this.

Ron's Lover: Oh God, I don't even know how to say this, but things are going to be bad! Apologies in advance!

Yoli: That part you want to read is almost here. And thank you, that you guys feel I should have won is gratifying in itself.

nellysh and Guest Reviewers 1, 2 and 3(Please mention a name, easier for me to address you!) :Thank you for supporting the characterisation and taking the time to leave me a feedback!

Thanks to each one of you for reading!