A/N:

Warning: This chapter contains Smut, a little angst and smut and some more smut. Warning done; now read on.

Chapter 56: Owned

Ron looked up at the timepiece once again before glancing sideways at his softly snoring friend. It was quarter past two in the morning and the house was silent except for the soft gushing sound from the sea outside. The flame of the lone candle burning in the bracket flickered in the breeze that wafted in through one open window.

She was late.

He looked down at his button down pyjama shirt, wincing slightly at the dull throbbing that had begun in his midriff and sighed softly before placing his hands under his head on the pillow. Breathing silently in the equally quiet night he couldn't help notice how easy it was to breathe now that his lungs and chest didn't hurt anymore. In fact, most of his injuries had healed. And it was about time too, it was almost ten days to the day they had come down here to Shell Cottage after all.

Pulling out his right hand he flexed his fingers, glancing briefly at his scarred wrist. Most if not all of his wounds were now dry, scratchy cakes of congealed blood and tissues. It was crazy how many marks he would have left on his body if they didn't dissolve, the worst ones being the one on his cheeks and the one on his midriff- a wound that was still healing and needed dressing six times a day. And that was not counting the bruises on his back. The way she winced every time she applied salves on it made him sure that they looked just as awful as they felt scratching against his clothing.

That brought his thoughts back to Hermione. He missed having her next to him during the nights. But once he no longer needed as frequent dressings as before, she had been the one to suggest that it would be awkward for them to share a room any longer. She still came in during the nights, though, to timely dress the one persistent wound, and Ron secretly waited for that hour even though it entailed a fresh surge of pain as the new potions were administered. He glanced at the timepiece again and wondered if she had dozed off tonight. It would be good actually- Merlin knew, she needed some straight hours of undisturbed sleep. And it wasn't like no one else had volunteered to be his nurse; Fleur had and so had a slightly unsure Harry. But Hermione had flatly refused to hand that duty over, and Ron, though a tad bit guilty for her sake, realised that he liked this arrangement a hell lot better.

Harry let out a soft grunt in his sleep and turned away. The boy had been put on regular doses of Sleeping Potion, something Hermione insisted was necessary to keep his sanity and their mission alive. She wasn't wrong. Even though he didn't say it aloud, Ron knew Harry blamed himself for their capture and everything that happened at the Malfoy Manor. It was bloody barmy but it was something Harry always did- held himself responsible for everything wrong that happened to people near him. That bloke needed sleep and peace. However, that second item on their list was not much in sight.

Their plans to tackle the Horcruxes were still hanging on Ron's recovery, and he hated himself for slowing the other two down. Voldemort had already acquired the Elder Wand and it had freaked him out when Harry had confided in them with all that he had found out from his visions and Olivander. Even Hermione had gone a few shades paler before vehemently insisting that the wand was unlucky anyway, and Harry could never retrieve the wand that way. Personally, Ron felt sick to the pit of his stomach imagining the foul creature with that final weapon but for the sake of his friends and their moral, he had kept his mouth firmly shut. At least they each had a wand now and were safe enough to sit and plan their next course of action. It brought them to the next and most important thing on their list- the Horcruxes.

It had been a difficult and an uncomfortable topic, but they had finally discussed the details of finishing the Locket and owning Gryffindor's Sword. They were definitely in a better position to finish another Horcrux if and when they found it. But apart from that, they were exactly where they were earlier- clueless about the location of the next piece of Voldemort's soul. Try as he might, Ron hadn't been able to stop those last images from bombarding his senses and the ever observant Hermione had pressed her soft hands over his, each and every time. It was a silent agreement between the three not to discuss what the Horcrux had shown them. He, on his part, was not sure what he was supposed to feel anymore. On one hand, he wanted to confess to Hermione and beg forgiveness and take an oath never to touch her again, on just the other, he wanted to wrap himself around her and keeping holding on to her, knowing that only she had the power to rid him of the pain. The guilt of his past deeds, however, couldn't be done away easily with.

His inner monologue was broken by hurried footsteps that approached outside and, sure enough, the very next minute the door was pushed open to reveal a flustered Hermione.

"Oh, Ron! I'm so sorry I'm late!" she admitted in hushed tones and hurriedly tied her hair into a knot while making her way towards the side-table.

She looked like she had rushed out after having woken up from deep slumber just as Ron had imagined. She was wearing an old wide necked tee that used to be Tonks' and he noticed guiltily that, despite the charms to alter the size, it no longer fit her as well it used to. In fact, at the very moment, it was slightly off her left shoulder, displaying the thin strap of her bra. Wasn't she supposed to rid the undergarments when she slept? But perhaps these night calls prohibited her of that comfort too. He squirmed slightly at the effect of his thoughts. He knew he was getting better physically because for the past two or three nights, these night-time rituals had been stirring emotions in him he wanted to keep away from. In a way, it was good that their sleeping arrangements were not as before.

But she was here now, walking purposefully towards his bed with a potion in her hand. He sat up straight, folding his legs to give her enough space to sit.

She went through the routine with practised ease. Handing him the phial, she scooted closer giving him a whiff of her fragrance that was enough to send his senses into a frenzy, so, he held on to the phial tightly and watched as she began to unbutton his shirt. His eyes moved over to her exposed skin, realising that at some point she had lit a few more candles and the room was brighter than before. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it off him with Ron shivering ever so slightly as her fingers grazed his bare skin.

"I-I'm sorry but a few on your back need to dressing too," she mumbled while her cheeks turned crimson. With the number of times they had done this, touching him should have come easily to her by now, while he was supposed to get accustomed to the feeling of her delicate fingers touching him. However, it was obvious that neither of them had adapted enough to their proximity to not get affected by it.

He nodded, slightly groaning to himself, as she pulled her tee back to cover herself before biting her lips once more. Ron didn't know what it was but somehow she seemed more flustered today. He did as he was told, and once he was facing the headrest, she took away the phial from his hand. The next minute, soft fingers were spreading a burning substance on his lower back. He sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly at the contradictory sensations that were bombarding his senses. But then she notched the whole thing higher as she placed the phial on the floor and gripped his shoulder with her free hand. That action brought another ache, a pleasant one this time, as her nails grazed his skin while she applied some more medication on his back. She moved away after a while to fix gauze to hold the medication in, and Ron utilised those few minutes to steady his breathing before turning around. She looked even more frazzled and before he could avert his eyes, they found her slightly heaving chest. He looked away hurriedly, guiltily.

"Lie down," she murmured in a strange little voice and he did as she asked. There was some strange kind of magic in the air, and he could literally hear his heart thumping as she came even closer. During the initial days after their escape, it was all about consoling each other; it was all about dealing with the pain and being together, physically and otherwise to heal each other. The nights that she spent with him involved a few kisses followed by snuggling and falling asleep together. They were much too broken and wounded to progress any further. Judging by his body's current reaction to her presence, it was obvious that he was making a good recovery.

"Done," she said after a while and he glanced down in shock.

"That didn't hurt at all," he told her.

"That's a good sign. It means the wound's healing," she declared smiling. It was small, barely a little upward curl of her lips but Ron couldn't take his eyes off her. Smiles were rare, especially the ones that reached the eye. As his eyes found her brown ones and remained locked on them, some sort of magic crackled in the air around them. Her smile turned shy and eyes dipped, moving over, if he was not mistaken, over his bare torso. The air around them felt warmer, and then the temperature increased sharply as she tentatively placed her palm over his chest. Her touch was bliss and he barely managed to hold back the sigh that escaped. Ron was sure she could feel if not hear his heart. But she didn't stop there; her fingers traced a path over his collarbone, reaching his shoulders, caressing the now-dry wound there with the pad of her thumb before returning once more to run her fingers on his chest.

"Hermione..." he whispered, immediately noticing the huskiness flood his voice.

"Yes, Ron?" she asked just as softly but with a hint of a mischievous smile. Bloody hell! She knew what she was doing and how it was affecting him. She sucked in a breath through her slightly parted lips and her bosom heaved enough to attract his attention towards them.

As his rotten luck would have it, Harry chose that precise moment to turn sideways, and although he was still fast asleep, Hermione jerked away from him guiltily at the noise. With her breathing still coming in gasps, she busied herself with keeping the phial back in its place and extinguishing the candles.

Once she was done, she came back to stand in front of him. Ron had not taken his eyes away from her since she had moved away, nor had he put his shirt back on.

She licked her lips as if poising for something difficult and then seemed to literally force herself to meet his eyes before speaking. Even in the dim light, her cheeks looked flushed.

"Erm... Are you sleepy?" she asked in a voice that begged for a negative answer and he chuckled softly.

"No, are you?" he inquired instead.

She nodded in negative and averted her gaze as he enjoyed watching her, "Want to chat for a while?"

"Sure," he replied noticing that the huskiness was back in his words. She seemed to notice it too for she met his eyes and fidgeted with the hem of her top before glancing at Harry. This probably wasn't the best idea. At the rate they were going it would be hard to keep his hands off her. At least he could trust his best mate to interrupt with a grunt or a snore if things went out of control, he thought dryly.

Surely Hermione was thinking the same.

"But we'll disturb him," she indicated and Ron snickered to himself. Clearly, their thoughts were on the point but also quite the opposite.

"So... what do you suggest?" he asked instead. What was he expecting?

"Well... we could go to my room,"

He could have growled. That was not the suggestion he wanted, well, perhaps he did. But didn't she know that it would strain the already feeble control he had over himself? What was she playing at? He met her eyes with his and the curtain of pretence dropped. There was nothing but raw want in her eyes and he was sure the same mirrored in his. It was dangerous and barmy but it was also something he was craving for.

He lifted himself up from the bed and stood towering over her. Merlin, she was almost a head shorter than him! At present, she looked so small and vulnerable that he had to literally use all his willpower to stop himself from picking her up in his arms and snogging her senseless. Well, snogging he could allow himself, but he feared he wouldn't be able to stop at that; he wanted more- so much more.

"Hermione," he heaved, and she finally dropped the act as she looked up at him.

"Please, Ron?" she asked getting closer and placing her palms flat on his skin. They scorched where they touched, at the same time igniting a passion that made it difficult to think straight. A feeble part of his brain begged him to stop. You are going to hurt her, keep away! it screeched inside his head, and he faltered a little.

But before he could move back, she tugged on his arms and standing on her toes, placed her moist lips on his. He closed his eyes as a sigh escaped him involuntarily, his arms finding and wrapping around her thin waist, hitching her top up a few centimetres. As his palm found her bare skin, she moaned softly in his mouth and her arms wrapped around his neck. Ron bent a little to help her and her lips blended into his, tongue begging entrance. He lifted her then. His back groaned at the strain and the kiss broke much too quickly for either of their liking.

"Hermione, I-" he began but she placed a finger on his lips and with the fingers of the other hand entwined in his, pulled him out silently from the room.

...

The room Hermione used was smaller. It held two beds placed next to each other and a compact dresser. However, the window here was large and overlooked the sea. The moon was bright and the sky was clear with twinkling stars that spread across the sky and disappeared far into the horizon.

"Wow," he breathed as the curtains ruffled in the breeze.

"Why am I here, 'Mione?" he asked trying his best to ease his breathing. The moonlight streaming in gave her an ethereal glow. Getting a whiff of her intoxicating scent wasn't helping matters either.

She looked at their still entwined hands and licked her lips nervously, and just like that, without another word, pulled him to her bed.

As she sat them down, Ron could hardly find the words. It was not difficult to figure out what she wanted; her eyes were speaking loud enough. He scrambled up and stood unsure at the edge of the bed, and she looked up at him. He wanted to run away but he also wanted to take everything she was offering and, in return, shower her with everything he had. The locks that had escaped her bun were flying crazily around her face and he watched mesmerised as she struggled hard to lock them behind her ears, not taking her eyes off him.

"I need you, Ron... please..." Didn't she know how much hold she had over him? How could he refuse those eyes?

It was getting increasingly difficult for him to hold himself back. There was no way he could refuse and hurt her. But the apprehension in his heart was also rising rapidly. What if he hurt her again?

"Hermione, I-" he struggled, trying to put words in his sentence but failing miserably, while she continued to watch him. And then, all of a sudden she removed her hand from his, some sort of a resolve forming in her eyes. He took a deep breath of regret as well as a relief, but the very next minute he gasped, having forgotten how to breathe.

Hermione had pulled out her wand and locked the door. And then, making sure to maintain eye contact all the time, she dropped the wood on the bed and slowly pulled her top off, throwing it to join the wand on the bed. She came down to stand next to him. Ron had barely managed to wrap his head around the fact that Hermione was standing in front of him in her bra when, shocking him further, she pulled her pyjama bottom down.

"Fuck!" he swore in an undertone when he had found his voice as she wriggled out of the discarded item.

Ron could see her body flushing. He didn't know if it was due to the chill in the breeze or her sudden act of boldness. A feeble part of his brain told him to act. For Merlin sake, he was still standing like an idiot while the girl of his fantasies was literally stripping down in front of him.

Hermione had not stopped. Though flushed scarlet till the root of her hair and breathing heavy, she placed her hand behind her, and suddenly, the bra straps slid off her shoulders and came loose from her breasts.

"Oh fuck, Hermione!" he groaned and fisted hard. Why was she making it so difficult for him? He was literally pulling every little strand of strength he had to not pounce down on her. But didn't she know he was losing the fight? All she had to do was look down at his pyjama bottoms to know it.

"Hermione, please..." he begged, collapsing on the bed and hiding his face in his hands.

He wanted her; he wanted her so bad that it hurt. But the visions of the Horcrux were still there at some dark corner of his memories. He could almost see a vapour form of Hermione begging him to stop as he thrust into her ruthlessly. How could he be sure that deep inside he was not the monster the Horcrux had shown them he was? How could he be sure that it was just an image and not something actual inside him that the Horcrux had found and latched on to? What if he really was evil? He had forced a kiss on her at Grimmauld Place, hadn't he? He had threatened to rape her in the infirmary. He couldn't even allow himself to touch her let alone make love to her. He didn't know what she was testing or how much longer he could hold on.

There was a soft pressure and he realised she had moved in between his thighs. Gently his hands were pried away from his face, and as difficult as it was, he kept his eyes trained on her face.

"Do you know how to get rid of nightmares, Ron?" she asked as her hands cupped his cheeks. He kept his hands firmly on his thighs and shook his head in negative.

"By creating some beautiful memories," she told him.

"I can't, Hermione... I shouldn't..." he managed with difficulty.

"'Shouldn't' what, Ron? Touch me? Kiss me? Make love to me?"

He exhaled. "All of those," he mumbled.

"Why?"

"Come on, 'Mione! I ... how do you even allow me to see you?" he cried softly, anguished.

She chuckled softly. "-because I am yours, perhaps?"

He looked up and was lost in her eyes. The amount of love that was pouring out her was drowning him and making him come alive at the same time. Ron grasped her by the shoulder and pulled her to him, crushing his dying lips on her blissful ones, closing his eyes as her fragrance engulfed him. It didn't take long for him to gain access to her mouth. She tasted divine. It was like her taste was the potion that was bringing life into him. Her arms wrapped around him and her fingers laced in his hair, grasping and pulling at the roots, a sensation that was more arousing than painful. He grunted hard as her soft breasts pressed against his chest, and his hands ached to touch her nipples. But he placed one hand at her nape and wrapped the other around her waist. Thankfully, she still had her knickers on.

She pressed herself further into him and his arousal came in close contact with her flimsily covered core. His thrust was involuntary but drew a growl from him and a moan from her. He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers.

"What are you doing to me, 'Mione?" he exhaled.

"Making you mine," she replied with a smile that was brighter than he had seen on her face in days, or months, perhaps ever.

"I am already yours," he told her while tracing a finger over her lips as her breath staggered. Heaving, he placed the pad of his hand on her neck and slowly massaged her shoulder. He could now see those pink buds begging to be touched and tasted and he gulped hard.

"Then make me yours, Ron... The whole of me..." she whispered through lowered lashes.

"'Mione..." he begged as his hand gripped her waist harder, "I..."

"Please, Ron... I know what I am saying...I... I almost lost you so many times in this last one month... We have wasted so much time while what both of us wanted was right there in front of us. Not anymore, Ron... I love you and I want to share this with you...I don't want to lose any more time when our future is coated with so much uncertainty... I want you to know everything I wish to tell you, I want to give myself to you. I want to remove any and all traces of that Horcrux from our lives..." she breathed.

"How do you know I won't hurt you?" he begged like a child seeking assurance.

"Because now it's just you and me. You'll never hurt me, Ron; you can't."

...

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off Ron. His messed up hair, unshaved face and those intense blue eyes were enough to turn her into mush on any normal day. And now, bathed in moonlight, bare of all his clothing, settled between her legs, and with a light trace of sweat glistening over that strong and scarred body, he was literally melting her down. She could hardly breathe, a part of it was fear but she would not let that show. It was crucial to bring Ron out of confining walls of guilt that he caged himself in during their closeness. Was it rushed? Yes. But who knew if they would have a future or not? Who knew when they would have a slice of peace again? He had to be told. And she needed to be marked as his, for all eternity.

She watched the pad of cotton on his midriff to ensure that their activities were not straining it. And as Ron's lust loaded eyes roamed over her bare chest, she could literally feel the blush rushing to her cheeks. The last traces of the bravado that had made her strip down to her knickers in front of him kept her from hiding her face in the pillow. Her hands, however, grasped the bed sheet tight on either side.

She couldn't wait for Ron to remove the last piece of clothing on her, but so far, he had been lavishing his attention on her pert buds and on kissing every inch of her skin. He was always good with his tongue and lips but this night was different. He wasn't just kissing her; it felt like he was literally worshipping her. She realised that the love that was floating in those blue orbs would be the death of her.

She hated the loss of his warm tongue on her nipples, but as he took her in with his eyes, she knew it would get way better. As it is, her knickers were soaking wet although they had not been touched at all so far. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he placed his hands on the side of the elastic waistband and looked at her.

"Are you sure?" he asked once again and she loosened her grip on the bed-sheet to pull his face down to her. His hardness brushed against her most sensitive parts and she drew in a sharp breath while Ron let out a growl deep inside his throat. Sweet Salazar, he was so hard...

"Yes," she whispered after placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Mark me as yours, Ron," she breathed into his neck and his lips pressed into her nape as he sucked hard, surely egged on by her words. He pushed himself off her to reclaim the hold on the last bit of cloth.

"Do you mind?" he asked raggedly as if holding on to threadbare control, and she shook her head although she was not quite sure what she was agreeing to. She got her answer soon enough as he actually ripped the fabric off her and buried his face between her legs. She gasped aloud.

"Rrrronnnn..." she moaned as her eyes closed of their own accord while he lapped greedily between her folds. Her hands latched into his hair and that seemed to urge him on as a couple of his digits entered her swiftly. She whimpered and clasped the pillow with one hand while the other grasped his shoulder, hard. Slowly and almost torturously, the fingers moved out and then re-entered her, curling inside her folds. She cried and moaned and blabbered words she couldn't decipher herself, and he continued with his mouth and hands till she floated into an abyss and back.

Down from the orgasmic high and still breathing heavy, she looked at Ron and he gave her a lopsided grin that, if possible, made all the giddy with desire. And then his expression changed but she looked into his eyes with resolve. Do it, she told him silently.

He took in a few deep breaths and licked his lips before holding his hard manhood in his hands. She forced herself to relax as he positioned himself just at her entrance. It was freaking her out although the sight was extremely arousing at the same time. She concentrated on his eyes, telling him without words to go ahead.

He bent lower, entering her a little more, stretching those delicate muscles for the first time and she whimpered against her own will. Placing his hands on hers and interlacing his long fingers with his, he pressed his face at her nape.

"I love you, Hermione, with all my heart... with everything I have...I am all yours, forever," he breathed and a few tears rolled out of her eyes at the sincerity of his words.

"I love you too, Ron... More than anything and everything," she replied breathing in deeply. It was hurting and she could feel he was going slow just not to hurt her. But it was hurting her more this way. She could see the massive amount of control he was displaying and she tried relaxing her muscles further to make it better for him.

He stopped just as he reached the barrier and looked up at her, in surprise or worry, she couldn't say. Perhaps both.

"Ron, don't worry... I'm okay... just...just do it quickly," That'll hurt the least, she thought. "That's the best way," she told him.

"Y-You sure?" he asked and she rolled her eyes. Thankfully he took the hint. Balancing himself a little more properly on his arms and knees, he pulled himself out and she just about managed to hold back a cry.

"I love you," he told her with fire blazing in his eyes, and with his fingers gripping hers tightly, entered her in one swift motion- ripping her fine membrane, making her scream and bite into his shoulder and truly marking her as his this time.

The pain was intense, and it was only after the first spell of it died that she realised he had stilled though he was still deep inside her. The feeling was mindboggling. It ached but she wouldn't have it any other way.

"I'm okay," she told him panting slightly, hopefully convincingly enough, but she knew he didn't believe her because he didn't move. Quite possibly he wasn't sure what would hurt her more.

"Please move, Ron..."

"Y-You sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yes, now move..." she told him and he obeyed.

"Slowly... yes...aah...Rrronnn..." she moaned as the pain slowly began to ebb away after a few thrusts to be replaced by pleasure as he began the rhythm, slowly and tenderly first and then faster on her insistence. Anything she had felt before was a mere shadow of the pleasure he gave her and she lost herself in him.

Neither of them lasted long. They came together in a mind blowing climax with their lips and arms and cores fused in each other, just how it was meant to be.

...

Later, they lay together in her bed, back in their clothes and with Ron spooning her from behind. She sighed contentedly ignoring the small ache between her legs. It had been a little tricky but she had managed to send him to fetch a tee for himself while she vanished the blob of blood that marked the pristine white sheet. The wind was slightly chill but encased in his arms she had all the warmth she needed.

"I love you," he breathed into her nape again and she smiled. She could smell him on her and realised that she could give up everything she owned to have this for life.

"I have set an alarm," she told him.

"Hmm?" he asked sleepily.

"An alarm, Ron. Surely we can't have them find out you spent the night here," she stuttered wondering if Fleur would be able to figure out what they had done.

"Relax...No one will mind," he muttered.

"Surely they will!" she retorted disbelievingly.

He sniffed sleepily and pulled her in closer, "No, they won't... They will think I was here to keep you from having nightmares,"

"What?!" she squeaked and turned around to face him.

"The first night when you were with me, you were having nightmares," he said with a soft sad sigh. She could see the pain in his eyes so she pressed her head at the nook of his shoulders as he continued.

"You were probably seeing me getting tortured. It took me a while to cool you down. I was surprised to find that no one had come running considering you were pretty loud, but Harry later told me that the three of them were right outside the door. They didn't come in because they felt only I could help you. You slept off and Fleur decided that it was best for both of us to stay together," he finished and she sniffed off a tear.

"I can't sleep without you next to me. I have tried but-" she confessed quietly.

"-it doesn't work? Same here," he replied. She looked up and smiled as their eyes met. He looked tired but happier than she had ever seen him.

"G'night," she murmured with a kiss on his lips.

...

Hermione slept off peacefully that night. Hidden in one of the drawers of the dresser were outlines of a map she had sketched. Another couple of enchanted parchments detailed out the plan. It was about time the boys were told that she knew where another Horcrux was. Ron would still have to get stronger and the Order would have to be informed to be prepared just in case. She still needed a few supplies and a more than a dozen potions had to be brewed and bottled. But the time Bellatrix Lestrange had, was slowly coming to a close. It was a dangerous mission. One that would trick their opponent into thinking that all their cards were on the table, and in a way they were. The Dark Lord would eventually know that his links to immortality were slowly being chipped off. What would he do then? Surely he would get into the hunt himself. Their only hope lay in the connection the Dark Lord shared with Harry. Hermione was hoping that he would go through his hideout locations one by one, and if Harry could enter his mind, they would be able to locate the hiding point of the last item. Then it would be a race against death himself. They needed to be prepared for it.

However, all of these came in later. The first thing to do would be finding and finishing the Horcrux, and she had a special plan for it, one which the boys would know only when it began rolling.

A/N:

Thanks to all of you for your patience and those awesome reviews. I am sorry to have kept you waiting. I hope this chapter is worth it. I know it raises some questions like, was it Ron's first time? The answer will be out in the next chapter. However, I sincerely believe in safe sex. Protection was used, just not mentioned in the narration (just like it was not mentioned how Ron lost his clothing).

A response to the guest review I received for the previous chapter.

This is the first of the last three chapters. I know it took a long time coming but as I have said before, September and October are the biggest festive months for us. I highly appreciate your eagerness for this story but it is not possible for me to work on this until and unless I have some quality free time. The other story I am working on is not half as hard as this and hence it's easier for me to update it.

Additionally, I do have a real-life that needs priority and takes over my life at times. I work on this during the precious little 'me' time I have as a mother of a tot (apart from my day job and everything else). And trust me, it's rare.

With a story as complex as this, it takes me a lot of time to word it properly and keep all the loose threads tied. Moreover, it needs to be checked and rechecked multiple times to ensure it's as error free as possible. I can churn out one chapter after another in quick succession, but that will seriously impact the quality of the work, and that is something I am not ready to compromise on. It will be a betrayal to all you readers who have stuck with me so far. A chapter full of typos and other errors will not be a pleasant read no matter how good the plot. I will try putting up the remaining two chapters soon enough, but I am sorry to say, I will upload it only when I think they are good enough to fit in with the rest of the story.

Avid reader: When I had planned they would do 'it' in the previous chapter, Ron's torture was not supposed to be half as bad. But then, the devil in me got carried away with his torture scene. Anyways, here they are!