A/N: This chapter comes almost a week later than I intended it to thanks to a severe bout of flu that kept me too drugged to get any constructive work done.

I find many of you wondering what this 'truth' Ron is talking about, but honestly, it's something you all know already. The chapters get darker, please be braised. One scene in this chapter can be disturbing and hence, quite consciously, I am not going to get very graphic or descriptive.

This story has received 700+ reviews, been added as to the favourite list by 100+ readers and followed by 200+ of you so far, a feat I had never imagined I would achieve. You make me very happy and humbled and a tad bit scared as well. I hope this story does justice to the fabulous reviews you have sent my way.

This chapter is coming in two parts.

All Characters are the sole property of JKR.

Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust.- Albus Dumbledore (GoF)

Chapter 46: The Horcrux's Revenge- Part 1

It was past midnight.

Two young men stood at the small balcony staring unseen at the vast open grounds and the dense forest that followed. The clear, moonless sky glittered with a thousand stars shrouding them in deceitful serenity.

The taller of the two turned towards the room glancing over the sleeping form of a curly haired witch buried deep inside the covers of a bed that was littered with parchments, scrolls and books. A smile died on his lips even before it was fully formed.

"How long are we going to wait?" asked his companion and Ron turned around, releasing a small gasp of air that smoked in front of his face before blending in with the cold surrounding.

"Till she finds answers, I suppose," he replied.

"She had looked over those books a hundred times already," complained the bespectacled man in a gruff.

"I know," he responded putting his hand deep in his pocket to feel the heavy locket inside.

"It's March, Ron. Eight bloody months and what have we done? Found one Horcrux, and that's about it!" he fumed louder than before. "We need to break into Hogwarts if that's the last thing we do." He added.

Ron chuckled earning a stern gaze from his friend which he disregarded. "That can't be the last thing we do, mate." He provided.

"Thanks for getting things in perspective, Ron. How very intelligent of you." Harry retorted without a hint of malice.

"I try." He replied back.

"I am getting tired." Said the younger man a while later. "There are only questions and more questions but no answers."

Ron had no reply. It was something he thought too. A part of him blamed Harry for not having asked Dumbledore more when he had the chance. It was his own foolish, pigheadedness that they were left groping for solutions when Harry could have easily known more about the plan while the Headmaster was alive. He gripped the locket harder in a futile attempt at choking the soul that lay inside. He could feel the tension build inside him, the fury that was getting stronger along with the resentment he felt towards his best mate. And he knew the locket did it. All of it. It made him question their friendship and Harry's intentions and ability to lead just like it made him mistrustful about Hermione and her feelings.

Gripping the infernal object tightly in his fist he mentally repeated the Voice to stop snickering. Just like always, it did not stop but laughed louder. It had the habit of rearing its ugly head whenever he was having a warm moment with either of them. And that, he knew, was no coincidence.

He knew he would have to move away or he would snap like he did around his friends when he could not help it. But mostly, he stormed away to shut himself in his room till the spell of rage died- silencing the room and breaking all things breakable in his vicinity. He knew Harry and Hermione were suspicious and they asked him a hundred questions which angered him all the more. He had almost got into a fight with Harry once and glared so hard at Hermione on another that she had taken a few shocked back-steps to get away from him. Guilt had swept over him but the rage that the Horcrux fuelled in his veins was stronger, and so, instead of staying back and apologising as he ought to have done, he had stormed away. The blasted object had not given him another chance to explain and Harry and Hermione seemed to have mutually decided to let him be during these phases.

He felt contaminated like he was carrying a sickly disease.

"Ron!" Harry's urgent voice broke through his inner musing and he turned at his best mate to find him staring intently at something in the distance.

"Look at that!" pointed the younger man and he followed his gaze.

It was hazy at first but then he saw it- a light, white and wispy, floating between the trees.

"Is that a –"

"Patronus? Perhaps," replied Harry not taking his eyes off.

Ron pulled out his wand; the locket seemed to vibrate inside his pocket but he paid no attention. The Voice was, for once, silent.

"Should we check it out?" he suggested as the form got clearer before disappearing into the trees again. Was it a goat? A doe? He couldn't tell.

His thoughts were once again cut short as Harry practically raced away from him and began fumbling on the bed. Finally, extricating Hermione's wand from under the pile of books he rushed towards the door.

"I'll go and check it out," He gushed and Ron could see the familiar rush of adrenalin in his features. Finally, there was something to do.

"I'll go with you," He replied striding quickly towards the door himself.

"What about Hermione?" asked Harry and Ron turned to glance over her once.

"She'll be safe here," he replied.

...

Ron stopped only once they had crossed the barrier to the Chateau into the cottage.

"Harry, wait!" he called, pulling the younger man with a firm hold on his wrist.

"What if it's a trap? No one is supposed to know of this place." He reasoned. He would never be able to forgive himself if he let anything happen to Harry; especially not now when so much depended on him.

"Trust me, Ron, I feel this is safe."

"No one we know has a doe or goat as a Patronus. How can you be so sure?" he countered.

"I dunno, I just know. It looks so familiar," replied Harry, "We've got to see this, you know we do."

Ron took a moment to look at the eager form of his friend. There was a battle raging inside him. One part was strongly pulling him to that magic, another was holding him back just as equally.

"Let's go," he said gripping his wand tighter and pulled the door to the cottage open.

...

It was stupid to be out in the open and in full view of anyone or anything that might be lurking in the shadows trying to do them in. And it was quite a relief when they crossed the open moor and stepped into the forest. If anyone meant to harm them, they would have had plenty of time already.

Harry was looking around frantically for that source of light while Ron was way too busy checking around for any sudden intruders.

"There!" called his friend suddenly and sped through the low hanging branches and protruding roots. Ron followed soon after, concentrating on Harry's back while still looking out for sudden attacks. They jumped and stumbled over the roots, slipped on the slippery ground and got scratched all over by the branches and twigs but on and on they went.

It went on for a long time, minutes if not hours before the doe (yes, it was a doe and not a goat- almost familiar to Harry's Patronus but softer), came to a stop and disappeared completely.

In the sudden darkness that followed the extinguishing of their only source of light, both wands lit up simultaneously.

He heard the sharp gasp before he saw it.

The light that shone out of his and Harry's wand was reflected sharply by three stones, rubies and diamonds; the stones themselves attached to the handle of a sword that was sticking out of the ground.

Relief coursed though his veins and he turned around towards Harry with a broad smile, the wand light pointing at his friend's face which was depicting shock rather than exhilaration. Harry was still looking straight at the sword without making any attempt towards retrieving it.

"Wha-" he began confused, and focused the light on the sword again, and this time, he saw. The sword was surely standing upright, but its point was not buried into the ground as he had assumed earlier- it was driven deep inside an inert body.

He did not need to see the face to know who it was. He knew that dress. He walked as if in a haze, his feet carrying him to her while his brain screamed silently in agony.

IT'S NOT HER! IT CAN'T BE!

He stopped right next to her, not even aware where Harry was. It was Hermione, yes, this is what she was wearing when they had left her sleeping peacefully in that room, the same peach gown she had been rescued in months ago.

But how did she get here? Maybe she had woken up and seen the light and followed just like them. His legs gave away and he collapsed on his knees next to her bleeding form. The blood from the wound soaked her gown and dripped down into the ground.

He placed his hand in her open palm. She was still warm to touch. His eyes lingered on her face, those blank eyes looking into nothingness, mouth slightly open and the curly mane spread around her head in a hallo.

NO! NO! NO!

His brain continued to scream and he could roughly make out Harry's muffled sobs in the background. Nothing made sense anymore. He could hardly feel anything. Some instinct kicked in deep inside and he pushed himself up with difficulty.

He grasped the sword at the hilt and barely holding back the scream that tore through his being, pulled it out of her body.

He collapsed soon after. The sword lay forgotten at his side and he crouched next to her dead body. Tears leaked from his forcefully shut eyes, and his body shook with silent grief that crashed on him like waves crashing on the shore, steady and unrelenting.

Why had he not warned her before coming? Why did he leave her behind wandless? Why? Why?

As his pain intensified he bent lower to place his head on her bosom, hoping against hope to hear a heartbeat. But instead of the softness he expected his forehead met hard scratchy wood.

He looked up in shock and feeling the slight pressure of Harry's palm on his shoulder, turned to meet the younger man's bloodshot eyes.

"It was an illusion. Look," he said in a hoarse voice and a watery smile and Ron silently obeyed.

In the very place where her 'body' had been, lay an old log with a deep welt in it like it had been punctured with a long, sharp object.

He cried then, deep heart-wrenching sobs that were partly out of terror and rest out of relief.

"Let's get it done, mate," after what seemed a long while and Ron picked up and handed him the sword.

"No, not this. The locket," stated Harry firmly.

Confused and more than a bit weary, Ron did as asked. The object that had been torturing him for months felt heavier than before; he could almost sense the heart vibrating madly inside the small case. Pulling it out, he gave it to his mate and silently offered the sword again.

"No Ron, you have to wield the sword," Harry stated firmly.

"I-I can't, mate," he coughed wearily, "That fucking thing effects me worse than you both," he added.

"All the more reason for you to get rid of it," countered Harry looking intently at him.

Ron gazed at his friend for a while. Yes, that blasted thing had hurt him a lot and made him do insane things. It had almost made him do unthinkable things to Hermione...

He pulled himself up and meeting Harry's eyes gripped the sword tighter and nodded in affirmation. His best mate gave him an encouraging smile and patted his back before moving over to a large rock Ron had noticed before.

"On the count of three I'll open it," said Harry determinedly, "finish it immediately. It will put up a fight, the piece of soul inside the diary tried to kill me."

Ron almost said that the locket had already damaged a lot of him inside but refrained, wondering how Harry was planning to open it. They had not managed it in all these days. He gripped the hilt tighter doubting if he was made for this.

He was so lost in his own doubts that he almost missed that Harry had begun counting. On the count of three, he said something in Parseltongue and the locket spit open in two parts- an ugly red eye looking out at them.

"KILL IT, RON!" screamed Harry but Ron was too mesmerised as he watched the large volume of green smoke that blasted out of the locket.

"Ronald Weasley," sneered the Voice that had tortured him for months as the wispy smoke began taking shape.

"KILL IT!" screamed Harry again from somewhere behind him but he continued to gaze as the smoke twisted and turned to take the shape of a woman.

"Think you are so noble, Ronald Weasley? Best friend of the Chosen One assigned guard of Hermione Granger! And now you choose to wield Godric Gryffindor's sword to kill me? But I have seen your heart Ronald, you are weak and evil yourself!"

"KILL IT, RON! KILL IT!" bellowed Harry but there was a fierce wind blowing around them that made it difficult for Harry to approach him. The shape, however, was forming steadily into Hermione, more beautiful and more delicate.

"You have used the girl entrusted to your care to sooth your lust, used her dependency and trust to molest her body," boomed the Voice cutting out Harry's words. The shapes began to change and now there was another wispy form- him.

Ron looked up at his greenish image that leered sickeningly at wispy Hermione's smaller frame and pulled her to itself. There was no hiding the lust and the evil that shone in its red eyes as it pulled wispy Hermione's face up and claimed her lips hungrily.

"You never forgave her for what she did and now, finally when she has nowhere to go, you make her pay for everything she did to you. You claim her by force because you know she will not choose you of her free will."

The vapour Ron was devouring his companion ruthlessly while she whimpered. Ron looked on shaking to his bone as his nightmares played out in front of his eyes. It was all the same, the way she slowly unbuttoned herself, the way he ripped her clothes away and threw her on the bed, the way she buried her face in the pillow and he removed the rest of her clothing away. But unlike that night, there was nothing slow here- the predatory hunger oozed from every pour of Riddle Ron.

His vapour form pounced down on the smaller body, pinning her translucent arms on either side of her body and began thrusting inside her roughly while she let out open mouthed but silent screams. The voice spoke again.

"You took her against her will, soiled her body and threatened her to keep quiet," laughed the voice louder and he looked up because a part of that was a lie.

"NO!" he yelled staggering to his feet.

"Yes, Ronald, yes. Leave and run, you are not worthy to be in this fight, not worthy of being friends, of being loved or trusted-"

The sword blade came down in a swift motion, cutting through the green wisps till a loud clack echoed around them and the damaged locket scuttled down the rock onto the ground.

He dropped the sword and slunk down on the ground shaking wildly.

...

He placed his hand tentatively on the shoulder of the shaking form of his best friend, images from moments earlier bombarding his vision still.

"Ron?" he called softly but the taller boy continued to sob, crouched low.

"Don't listen to it, mate, it was lying. You know that, right?" he asked forcing conviction into his voice although an enormous number of doubts surfaced over and over again. Hermione- the image of her dead form had almost finished him off. He had never told her, but he assumed she knew that she was the sister he never had. They were brought together by fate, orphans of the war- united by a goal. And to see her dead had been... devastating. But that was a lie, a piece of illusion and so was everything the soul of Voldemort had just spurred. Wasn't it? Ron would never do anything so terrible.

But what if he had?

Harry had always kept away from whatever his friends had between them but if Ron was exploiting the right Dumbledore himself had given him, Harry would not stand and watch- best mate or not.

He questioned himself again. Would he believe Voldemort over his best mate? No. But then, why didn't Ron wield the sword earlier? And why would the Horcrux create such absurd lies? Was there something he had missed? He tried recalling how his friends were around each other. Hermione seemed genuinely fond of Ron and he was sure Ron cared for her. But yes, he had been angry about her betrayal. But that was more than a year ago, surely he wasn't holding on to the grudge for so long? And even if he was, he wouldn't go so far as...

Planning and plotting revenge so methodically... so strategically? Like the chess master he was?

No, he wouldn't. He told himself firmly. But a nagging doubt remained. Wasn't Ron and Hermione's interaction strained of late? Wasn't she more comfortable around him?

"The locket was lying, wasn't it Ron?" he asked holding on with baited breath for his best friend's response.

Ron did not answer but looked up with tears floating in those blue orbs that held pain and... guilt.

"Y-You didn't force her did you?" he asked in a shocked whisper, still not ready to believe what his eyes were telling him.

Ron sobbed harder and Harry staggered a few steps back in shock, and after a few deep breaths came forward to push the taller boy up.

"Get up! Get up, Ron!" he half yelled as he pushed the taller man on his feet.

"Look at me in the eye and tell me-" he stopped wondering how to ask what he was not even ready to imagine, "- you did not do anything to her you shouldn't have, have you?" he inquired urgently, pleading silently for Ron to deny.

Ron met his eyes once and looked away in what could only be described as shame and Harry could almost feel the world crashing around him. What was wrong with his world? Why was everybody he trusted intent on proving him wrong? First Dumbledore and now Ron...

Anger replaced hurt pretty soon. Striding over to his best mate he gripped the freckled arm forcefully and turned him around before punching him hard in his face with as much force as he could muster.

"You've disgraced Dumbledore's trust and your Mum's upbringing and you have disgraced our friendship. Stay. Away. From. Her." He spat venomously and strode away.

A/N:Please don't kill me yet! Next update in some hours. Please review.

/ editing my notes here. Still a bit of work left on the next chapter. Might be posted in the next couple of days. Will not take me much time but tomorrow being a weekend I'm not sure how much spare time my kid and hubby(other kid) will give me to work on this.