A/N:

Apologies for that horrid cliffhanger and the delayed post. Here it is, enjoy!

Chapter 53: Finding Hermione Granger

"Wait!" he yelled at Hermione, his wand still pointing at the two figures who were mirroring his action, but at his words, they eased and slowly removed their hoods.

"Ah! Professor Lupin! Nice to see you!" beamed Luna while Kreacher released a tiny grunt, squeezed as he was between the girls and the weak form of Ollivander.

"Harry, Hermione," sighed Bill as both the newcomers lowered their wands. Harry however still held his wand aloft and glanced sideways to notice Hermione fumble for a minute in confusion. He understood her perfectly; they had been through so much of late and good news had been so very rare that it almost felt eerie and untrue like a deceit was hidden somewhere.

"How do I know it's you and not an imposter?" he asked his brows scrunched in concentration. Hermione let out a small sound of helplessness; he couldn't blame her- he wanted to get to Ron at the earliest too. But what if they really were Remus and Bill? He held on from hoping too much before they were sure.

Lupin, however, smiled and shared a look with Bill. "I taught you well," he said in an undertone but Harry was not fazed.

"What did I ask Sirius when I spoke to him through the fire in Umbridge's office?" he asked his ex-professor and his father's dear friend (or the person who might possibly be impersonating him).

A tiny sad smile graced Lupin's tired face and he looked directly at Harry as he spoke.

"You asked how Lily married James when she definitely hated him," he replied, his eyes depicting a sadness that was blatantly evident even in that faint wand light. Harry watched him for a minute and then brought his wand down.

The two men came forward quickly, Lupin hugging Harry for a quick minute before he and Bill supported Ollivander.

"Where is Ron?" inquired Bill urgently as Hermione got busy opening the wards to allow them till the Cottage; her urgency a clear giveaway that she did not wish to waste a moment more.

"He is inside," Harry replied. Guilt laced his words and he wasn't quite able to meet the tall redhead's eyes.

"How did you guys find us?" he asked taking a glance and noticing Bill's stoic face.

"Let's get within the wards first," suggested Hermione taking quick steps ahead, and the group followed her towards the cottage, their path illuminated by wand lights.

It was only after they had settled in the familiar place and shut the door in their wake that Harry answered. Ron's oldest brother had already checked all the rooms and stood questioningly in front of him, while Lupin cautiously looked around and proceeded to cast a few more spells before taking his place on the settee Harry had shared with Ron once.

Ron...

Heaving a sigh he glanced back to notice Hermione had not bothered to wait and discuss. Holding back the intense desire to follow her, he slumped down, noticing for the first time how his aching muscles groaned as they touched the soft surface.

"This is just the entrance to a Chateau that lies behind this wall. That is where we were hiding, that's where Ron is now," he answered the silent question, taking in the odd group around him.

It felt kind strange, months and months of solitary confinement and suddenly they were thrown into a den of enemies, and now, just out of the blue there were five familiar friendly faces in front of him. It was almost ironical, he thought.

As he took in the familiar surrounding again, he realised that it just wasn't them hiding from the world, it was also like the truth and depth of the darkness was hiding away from them. And, all of a sudden, both the worlds had collided; the darkness had come crashing into their safe bubble.

These people sitting around him were friends. They were the connections with outside world and probable source of news they had been sorely craving for so long. However, now, he wasn't so eager to know anything. There was nothing outside, nothing apart from terror and grief, death and despair.

He briefly noticed Hermione fidgeting, clearly displeased with the slow sliding of the wall. Even as he watched, she did not wait for it to open all the way but squeezed in the moment the gap was wide enough for her and disappeared from sight without a backwards glance. As the wall sealed itself again, he turned back to the men with a soft, exhausted sigh; he owed them answers.

Bill had already got up to follow Hermione but he paused at the wall and returned back with a scowl.

"Harry, why wasn't Ron with you?" he asked.

Harry wondered how to tell Ron's eldest brother the true reason. Ron's injured form materialised in front of his eyes and he gulped down a discomfort wondering where to begin.

"He was injured, I had to send him back first before I looked out for Hermione," he replied ashamed. It was his fault; if he had not fought with Ron, if he had trusted his best mate a little more none of this would have happened.

The two men were still looking at him with confusion, and in Bill's case, a fair amount of worry. He decided he needed to get over this fast; it wasn't like he could hide Ron forever.

To add to his woes, a very faint image was now beginning to materialise in front of his eyes, and a fury that wasn't his own was gathering strength inside him. He concentrated on Ron, his best mate who needed help. He had to figure out a way to help Ron, and most importantly, he had to stay in the present.

"How bad is he?" asked Bill and Harry forced himself to not give in to the connection. He also hated himself a little more at the moment although Bill's words held no blame. If anything he looked proud, albeit a little tense.

"He is bad... very bad..." he finished guiltily.

"We need to get to him and take him somewhere where he will be able to heal. You both won't be able to handle this by yourselves," declared the eldest Weasley sibling in a tone that did not encourage arguments against it.

"This property belongs to Hermione. We have been hiding here, but it's got very strong protections. I can't take you all inside only she can," he mumbled quietly, first because he wasn't so sure it was the right option and second, because getting to control the visions were getting harder by the minute.

"Go, get him," instructed Remus. A silent conversation seemed to pass between the two older Order members, and Lupin proceeded to help Olivander up from the couch he was lying on.

"I'll take them to Molly," Lupin said indicating Luna and the elderly wandmaker. "You take this lot to your place," he added indicating Harry with his free hand.

"No!" Harry was surprised himself but one look at Olivander and he knew the old wandmaker held answers they needed. Perhaps, it would be better to let them take the call for now for Ron's sake if nothing else, but there were certain things only he had to decide. And although his best mate's health was the priority now, he could not afford to forget that they were still fighting, the war was still on. Plus, there was the throbbing in his scar that was getting stronger by the minute; he knew he would have to give in sometime soon. Voldemort knew about the escape. It was perhaps only the fear of losing Ron to death that was making him hold on so long.

"Get them, Harry. We've got to leave fast. Now that you all have escaped, they will not leave a stone unturned to search you," stated Bill urgently and he shook his head and got up, realising only then that he had been holding on to the arms of the couch so hard that his knuckles were practically white.

"Yeah..." he managed somehow and moved inside.

Once within the charms, he collapsed on the ground holding his head in his hands as the full blast of Voldemort's rage overtook his senses, bombarding his brain with images of the green spells that he shot out at the men who had failed him.

...

Hermione didn't care. She didn't care what they were planning or what they thought should be done now. All she knew was she needed Ron and Ron, he was...

She gulped hard as finally, the tears came flooding her vision. Only the thought of seeing Ron had taken her through that escape. Only his words, that Harry had to be kept hidden and safe no matter what the circumstances, had made her throw away her cover so that they would think she betrayed them all alone. Harry had to be kept safe, kept hidden as long as they could. Ron was practically fighting death to keep Harry alive, couldn't she do the same? Wasn't that what Ron wanted from her?

There would be a lot of time to wonder how or why she had reacted the way she had, but in the end, it was really simple, wasn't it?

With Harry's arrival, the dam of control had finally collapsed and she had given in to the insane urge to hurt those who had tortured her Ron, to severely maim and hurt the people who were trying to take him away from her forever. The same people who had snatched her parents away from her. It was as if those two days of pent up fury and pain had flowed uncontrolled through her veins and burnt away everything that came in her path. And she had been planning anyway, going through the curses and spells she wanted to use on Lucius, Bellatrix and Pettigrew at the first chance she got.

Hermione ran as fast as she could. She ran through the growth of flowering vines and crossed the steps; pausing barely a heartbeat to push the large doors of the Chateau open.

"RON!" she called even as her voice cracked with another onslaught of tears and pain, and she rushed up the stairs ignoring the muscles in her legs that protested vehemently forcing her to slow down. She pulled on with every ounce of strength she had left, not stopping as she crossed the long corridors, wiping the free falling tears as she made her way towards her room.

Finally, after what felt like a million years, she threw open the door to the room, and then, came to a halt.

The severely injured form of Ron lay on her familiar bed with her books lying around him just the same way she had left them two days ago.

Was it just a couple of days? Forty-eight hours? Why did it feel like a lifetime had passed; a lifetime of pain and agony?

Hermione stopped because suddenly her legs were too heavy to carry her further, unable to breach the last small distance that separated them. She stood instead, holding the door to support herself while continuing to watch his still form- his face almost unrecognisable with the scars, wounds, grime and blood. She wanted to call him out but couldn't because her heart almost stopped beating as she realised his injuries were far worse than what she had seen in the comparatively fainter torchlights in the dungeons.

The gruesome vision almost tore her apart, and the tiny bit of fear she had pushed in the farthest corner of her mind came forward in full force, getting bigger with every passing breath.

His clothes were almost in tatters showing off the innumerable and ugly wounds that lay beneath them. His face was practically unrecognisable with the grime and dried up blood while he lay still and stiff, unmoving.

As her eyes traced his inert form pausing longest on his chest, she realised horrified that she was subconsciously looking out for a movement, a rise and fall no matter how faint . Suddenly the air around got too thick, and it became steadily more difficult to breathe; her hold on the door slacked off its own accord, the vision around her blurred as she struggled to take in air. She tried hard to keep her eyes open, but her legs finally gave away, and Hermione only fleetingly realised that she was collapsing without any control- everything around her getting darker by the moment.

"Hermione? HERMIONE?!"

Harry's voice floated from some far away land, and when she finally opened her eyes it was to see the sheet-white face of her bespectacled friend over hers and the feel of the carpeted floor below.

"Are you alright?" he asked anguished, those green eyes clearly depicting the fear she felt herself. She took a gulp of air, breathing with much difficulty through her mouth before nodding a little and he released a soft sigh.

"R-Ron?" she asked and watched Harry as closely as her moist eyes allowed, but it was hard to miss how he stiffened at her voice.

Fear and pain came in fresh waves as Ron's inert image came crashing back. He wasn't moving, not even slightly... Her heart constricted so painfully that anything she had faced so far in life felt insignificant. She didn't have the strength to take this; she didn't have the strength to lose him and continue living, it would be easier to die.

"He- He is alive..." Harry replied and she let out an involuntary cry. A thousand nails seemed to prick her all over in the way he said it but at least he said Ron was alive.

"He needs help, Hermione... Please," Harry managed to help her sit, pushing her gently in his urgency; his face depicting the torment in his heart.

She used his arm to pull herself up, and together they walked towards the bed. She tried to think; to keep a cool head and do what she knew had to be done. Hadn't she read up intensively about Healing Magic just for this kind of an eventuality? Yes, she had. But now faced with the actual task, she realised it was way more difficult than just learning up the art.

They moved closer to the bed and closer to Ron. She took in his form again, choking on a sob that almost escaped as his tortured form came up closer.

She had to heal him, she had to help Ron, she had to do this. So much depended on getting everything right, one small mistake and Ron...

She forced herself to stop the thought that almost knocked her out again. She would have to win this. There was no way life would take away this from her. She would not allow it. Didn't she ace every exam she took? No matter what she did, Hermione always gave all she had to excel in it, and this was her biggest assignment ever, and she couldn't afford to lose.

"We need to heal his injuries first," she said in a voice that sounded mechanical, not hers at all.

"We are going off to Bill's place, Fleur can help us heal him," replied Harry from behind, and she noticed he was busy throwing in all their belongings inside her small beaded bag.

"He is not fit enough to Apparate. His injuries will tear up during Apparition if we don't provide some basic treatment at least," she found herself replying.

Hermione didn't know how she was doing it; somehow her brain had blocked off her emotions for the time at least, making her focus on the task at hand like she did while studying. It was taking this as another problem that needed to be solved. She felt constricted, like she couldn't really feel and was working mechanically. But that was the need of the hour, wasn't it? She could do with it.

"Get me the box from the dresser, one with the medicinal potions," she instructed as her fingers moved to Ron's chest to tear away the now threadbare Weasley jumper. The maroon hid away the blood stains but the golden 'R' had dark blotches on it. She then proceeded to unbutton his shirt. Her fingers shook and her lips quivered while she carefully and tenderly did away the few buttons that had managed to survive all those spells and were barely managing to hold the two sides together.

As his tattered vest came into view, the shivering extended from her arms to spine and legs making them wobbly. Angry bruises, ugly swelling and caked-up blood covered his torso. Very slight rise and fall could be seen and she could feel a sickening tremor rise up her spine. Closing her eyes for a very brief minute, Hermione took in a shaky breath praying to anyone who would hear to give her some strength.

She didn't realise Harry moving closer, noticing only when he gasped behind her, and she turned away from the unconscious ginger to meet his eyes.

"There is a bottle labelled Essence of Dittany and another phial that holds a yellow potion, the Essence of Murtlap," she told him calmly, surprising even herself. Harry fumbled for a few minutes while she conjured a bowl of lukewarm water and washcloths. Ron stirred slightly as she carefully pressed the cloth over his grime covered injuries.

"Her...mione..." he moaned in that barely conscious state, and that one word broke the wall Hermione's brain had built around her heart. Her hands shook wildly and she collapsed at the edge of the bed as loud sobs wracked her body.

...

Hours later, sitting on the soft, pale blue couch in Bill and Fleur's sea-side cottage, Harry stared hard at the goblet of Firewhiskey Bill had handed him.

The surrounding was eerily peaceful, and he felt dislodged from his body. It was hard to figure out what was real and what wasn't. And it was harder perhaps to soak in that they were not alone now and had others to care for them if only for a while. He looked at the golden amber coloured liquid and took in a sip, not even registering the bitter taste that burnt his throat as it went down.

The house was silent now, the sky a little less dark. In fact, he could see the black giving way to different lighter hues in the horizon and blend in with the sea. It was serene and beautiful really. So strikingly in contrast from the time they had Apparated here in the middle of the night with Bill holding unconscious Ron, and him supporting a broken Hermione.

He had seen their injuries himself, but Harry was sure he didn't even know half of the horrors his friends had gone through. And it was all because of him, to save him.

He took in a deep breath that did not fill in his chest at all. They were safe now, or were they? The last vision that had come to him barely minutes after he spoke to the ailing Ollivander who had confirmed what he had already deduced. Did it scare him that Voldemort possessed the Elder Wand now? Perhaps. The man's demure had been extremely determined and terrifyingly sinister as he pulled out the weapon from the dead Headmaster's tomb.

The recent events had also told him something else. His obsession about the Hallows seemed foolish now. He had got side-tracked; he had been too obsessed with him staying alive while their world wasn't safe at all. It was slowly collapsing piece by piece. There were so many deaths around them that keeping a count was getting difficult. Voldemort wanted him, and he or his Death Eaters would not think twice about harming others in their quest of getting their hands on him.

Even without Voldemort presence or the Elder Wand for that matter, Ron could have died. There was still a feeble chance of that happening as Fleur had fearfully told them a while back. Her halting, grim voice was like a punch in the gut. This war that had claimed his parents and his Godfather was now after his best mate. Would he survive losing Ron? What would be left for him to fight for? He had seen Hermione. She might have been physically unharmed but it was not difficult to see the psychological damage that had been inflicted on her. Would she survive losing Ron? And, Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys? How would he ever stand in front of Ginny if her brother died because of him? How would he ever face Molly or Arthur?

"Harry?"

Bill's voice was heavy and Harry looked up at the eldest Weasley sibling, unable to breathe for a minute there.

Bill let out a sigh and collapsed next to him. He rubbed his palms over his tired eyes before exhaling soundly once more.

"He is slightly better, for now," he provided tiredly, and Harry released a breath he had been holding for much too long. He gulped down the remaining liquid in one gulp.

"Still flicking in and out of consciousness," added Bill as the Curse Breaker summoned the bottle of Firewhiskey from the kitchen and refilled Harry's goblet before taking a deep swig himself straight from the bottle.

"Will he be okay?" Harry found himself asking, feeling very small, and Bill patted him gently on the back like he did with his other brothers. If anything, it made him feel worse.

"Fleur reckons he has a tough couple of days ahead of him. They must have tortured him for a while. Lots of broken bones and many of those wounds have gone nasty. He'll take a while to heal. He would do better at St Mungos but, of course, that is not an option we have. Fleur is forced to do with whatever potions and salves she has, and the ones Hermione had obviously. It's hard to tell if those will be enough..."

Harry drank deeply again, finishing whatever was left in his goblet and cherishing the burn in his throat.

"What about Hermione?" he asked after a while.

"There is nothing physical on her apart from the recent ones, perhaps she got those during your escape bid. But Lupin spoke to her, and-" he let out a sigh, "-they made her watch Ron's torture."

The rage he felt at Bill's words rivalled Voldemort's. He thought he understood Hermione's outburst now. Heck, he hated himself for vanishing those birds off Lucius. He should have just let those be.

"Is she okay?" he asked with difficulty.

"Fleur gave her a very strong Calming Drought, she is sleeping now."

He nodded because the pain was rendering him speechless.

"I am sorry, Bill," he said after a long while and did not, or perhaps could not meet the older man's eyes that turned sharply towards him at his words.

"For what, Harry?"

"For Ron," he replied softly and was surprised to hear a small chuckle.

"Don't disgrace my brother's bravery, Harry," he said kindly, "If anything, I am proud of him,"

"He almost died, I am sure they asked him about me... He was tortured because of me,"

"He would have done it for anyone of us, and you know that. He did it just as much for this war as he did it for you, Harry. He did what he was supposed to," he said proudly. "And thank you for bringing him back to us," he added softly.

"Where is Remus?" Harry asked without answering mainly because he thought he deserved no thanks.

"He is checking Ron for any long-lasting curse damages," replied Bill. "By the way, how did you escape the Manor?"

Harry took the opportunity to concentrate on something other than the burning guilt and proceeded to give him the details. He tried telling him everything, concentrating on the narration rather than the feeling of intense pain that clutched his heart.

"How did you find us?" he asked after he was done.

"Mundungus," replied Lupin walking down the last of the steps and taking his place.

"Ron will be okay, his injuries are nasty and will definitely take considerable time to heal but no long lasting curses," he told them and Harry collapsed back on the couch with a soft sigh.

"And Hermione?" he inquired, but Lupin shook his head sadly.

"Physcological injuries are more difficult to detect and treat," he responded somberly. "She will take time, but I agree with Dumbledore, she is a very strong witch,"

"Yes," he added remembering their escape.

"It was difficult getting her away from Ron," said the ex-professor quietly, with a meaningful glance at Bill.

"I wonder why they didn't harm her, though," muttered the only Weasley and something from months ago clicked.

"I bet Ron told them Hermione was not with the Order," he replied. "I remember he was very insistent about Hermione keeping her identity of being a true Granger for her own safety," he confessed.

"But how did he convince Hermione to do such a thing while they tortured him?" questioned Bill speaking his own thoughts aloud. That bothered him too. How could Hermione sit back and watch while they tortured Ron?

"Only they can tell us what happened," concluded Lupin and they were silent once more.

"How did Mundungus know where we were?" asked Harry after a while. The number of questions he needed answers for was piling up once more, and he hated it.

"He was in the pub Ron and Hermione were taken to after their capture. He sneaked away when he could and got in touch with the twins. They give him a lot of business, you know buying stuff from him which no one will, and in return, he passes us information when he can- without endangering his own skin of course," provided Bill, and Lupin took over from there.

"We had to track one of the Snatchers in that gang and that took us considerable time because times are not really much in our favour at the moment. Finally, we were able to retrieve the location they were captured from. We also got to know that the prisoners were away to the Malfoy Manor. But the Snatcher's memories showed only Ron and Hermione, we figured you'd still be safe, hoped actually."

"Remus and I had been in that forest for around a couple of hours before you guys turned up. We were not even sure we'd find you but that was the only lead we had. In all honesty, we had almost lost hope of getting those two back or finding you for that matter. No one they take to the Manor usually survives. We lost Ted..."

He gasped and looked between Remus and Bill, "Ted Tonks? Tonk's father?"

"Yeah, we guess it was Bellatrix. His mutilated body was dumped miles from Andromeda's childhood home," said Lupin barely concealing his fury. Harry didn't know how much more he could take. Suddenly the option of staying ignorant about the outside world was appearing so much better.

"But not all is bad," provided Bill with a small smile, "We rescued that boy, didn't we? Dean, right?" he asked Lupin.

"Yeah, Dean Thomas," he told Harry, "He managed to get away from a set of Snatchers and was luckily found by Kingsley. He is now with Molly and Arthur at their safe house,"

"Where is Ginny?" he asked suddenly, not that he had forgotten about her but, now that they knew Ron was with him, Ginny wouldn't be safe at school.

"Don't worry, we pulled her out the first thing after we got to know of Ron's capture," provided Bill and he sighed in relief. A tiny part in his heart grumbled about the fact that Ginny and Dean were quite possibly in the same house now but he shoved it aside. The further she was from him, the safer she would be, Ron's predicament had proved just as much.

"So, your Mum knows about Ron's capture?" he asked as self-loathing mounted in him again.

"Yeah, and that reminds me, I have to go and tell her we found them," declared the tall Weasley as he rose up and moved upstairs, quite possibly to inform his wife.

"And I should be getting back too... Tonks is due any time now," Lupin said casually, and Harry thought a very small smile graced the ex-Defence Against the Dark Art's teacher's tired features.

"Woah! Wow!" he exclaimed smiling back, his muscles literally aching with the effort. "Congratulations!" he added having almost forgotten how to respond to good news.

"Not that I'm not worried," replied Lupin suddenly more tired.

"I know but it will be fine, we'll make sure of it," he promised his father's old friend as much as he swore it to himself.

...

Hermione woke up and for a minute, was terrified that she had fallen asleep in the Manor, but then the recent memories came to the fore and she picked herself up immediately from the bed. A sudden spell of dizziness caused her to sway and she instinctively grasped the bed, noticing in the faint light streaming in through the heavy curtains the sleeping form of Luna Lovegood in the adjacent bed. Hermione was never very fond of the slightly eccentric Ravenclaw, but now after Malfoy Manor, she appreciated the silent resilience of the girl a lot more. She smiled a little at the sleeping form and taking a steadying breath, moved out of the room.

From the light coming in through the windows, it appeared that it was quite possibly past seven in the morning. However, the previous night had been difficult for all and she guessed that most of the members were still asleep.

She made her way towards the room Ron had been in, wondering if Harry was there too. She came down one landing and carefully pushed opened the door. The effect of the Calming Drought had faded and an unease she could not easily define was beginning to get hold of her again. And she felt tired too. Fleur had coaxed her the previous night to have a meal, but her queasiness had not allowed her to have more than a couple of bites of toast. She had barely touched her meals at the Manor too and the combined effect of the stress and starvation was not boring well with her aching muscles.

She moved inside the dimly lit room, grief mounting with each step she took. This was not how she wanted to see Ron.

Moving ahead, Hermione lit a lone candle that sat on a bracket next to the bed. A small table held a large amount of phials and bottles along with gauges, cotton and other articles. She let out a breath, barely holding the tears that were beginning to collect again. She had heard what Fleur had said, and although unwilling to accept it she knew the older witch was right. They did not have all the potions to heal Ron. Only time would tell if whatever they had was healing the wounds from their source or merely acting on a superficial level. Hermione was not willing to think what would happen if they couldn't heal him, but the fear had somehow percolated inside her skin and created images in her brain. Not that her brain had a small inventory of memories to torture her with anyway. Images and sounds in fact. Images that seemed into her nightmares- Ron's face as jets of red and white passed from Bellatrix's wand to enter him and those screams that he let out involuntarily. And yet Hermione had not stopped them. She had not run ahead and fought tooth and nail to stop them from hurting him; she had watched instead. Watched as Bellatrix had caused his bones to break, muscles to rip and blood to flow. Hermione could not forget the crackle that filled the cell as Ron's body convulsed; she could not forget the soft and dry chuckle from Lucius as Ron forced himself to push himself up. She could not forget the sight when Bellatrix pushed her nails on Ron's wound and scratched them open. She could not forget that she stood and watched, equally guilty of the state Ron was in. She was just as responsible for the screams as Malfoy and Lestrange were. If she lost Ron to his injuries, she would have no one but herself to blame.

She watched with painfully dry eyes the man that lay under the covers. Bill had rid Ron of his vest somehow and now his naked torso was covered with pads of cotton and gauge that covered his many wounds. Ron's face was clear of grime but it looked only marginally better than how she had seen in the Chateau, bruised and wounded as it was. She allowed her eyes to move over his arms. The faint white scars that ran all over them, a reminder of the brains that attacked him in the Ministry, would now have the ones on his wrists for company. The bruised shoulders were a sickly greenish black colour.

She looked away because she couldn't keep counting his injuries, they were just too many. Each wound seemed to scream and shout and point a finger at her. How many times would she hurt him? How many times would she be the reason for his injuries? How many scars would be left on his body in his quest to keep her safe? How long would he continue to be her guard and step in front to keep her safe?

A fresh spell of dizziness took over and she barely managed to collapse onto the bed next to him. She wanted to cry her heart out but neither a tear nor a word escaped. She wanted to cry and scream and bury herself in his chest. Ron had been there to save her even back in those days when there was nothing but hate between them. Even at the time when she had intentionally endangered him in the Room of Requirements he had been the one to take the hits to keep her out of harm way. He had pulled her out of her collapsing Chamber, almost got strangled while in the Granger forest. Each and every time he had put her safety before his life. And what had she done? She had been so angry with him about the doubts the Horcrux planted in his brains that she had literally pulled him into that trap. She was the reason they had been captured, and despite everything he had taken the brunt of it too.

On hindsight, their fights seemed almost insignificant. They were in a bloody war that was hell-bent on attacking them on all fronts. And death was not a far off thing either, certainly not for them. At the end of the day, these issues mattered less than the real threat they faced. They could be all resolved in time, but what was important here was keeping each other alive. And no matter what the Horcrux had done to Ron, it couldn't touch the love he had for her- of this she was sure.

To say that she hated herself was an understatement. She hated her origin and the world she belonged to, the people she had once thought of as allies, the very same ones who had taken away her parents, the ones who were ecstatic about the slow death that they were shelling out to Ron. She hated that the ones to hurt him were still out there, and she hated herself the most, hated that she did nothing, nothing at all to save Ron.

A single tear escaped and she wiped it off. This wasn't the time to cry. She would not let everything that Ron went through go waste. She closed her eyes, remembering for a brief minute the look on his face that she had seen the first day at Malfoy dungeons- that pride and love that had been for her and her alone. Taking a deep breath she ran her fingers through his hair, careful to not touch the cut that was on his forehead as determination overtook every other feeling, or was it revenge perhaps? She didn't care either way.

Voldemort wanted her as his lieutenant, didn't he? Bellatrix killed her parents for going against Voldemort's wishes, didn't she? The bitch wanted to kill Ron and that mangy bastard Lucius had his own plans. They thought they were so clever and cunning? Well, she would show them just how cunning and ruthless Hermione Granger could get. Now, she would show them exactly what she was capable of to avenge her loved ones. She would make them pay, all three of them, with one single stroke.

A/N: Thanks to each one of you for reading. Apologies, this took way longer to come out as I wanted it to.(Also because I got a brainwave about yet another Romione multi-chapter fic, and I had to make notes for it lest I forget) But this is a long chapter at least. Thanks for all your reviews. I am eager to see what you all think of this chapter.

About Hermione's reaction in the previous chapter, I know it appeared OOC as she is so much about planning and not usually so reckless. But this being an AU, certain aspects of her character had to deviate from the series in keeping with the story and her background in this one. I hope this chapter helps explain her actions a little better.

Looking forward to reading your thoughts!