Author's Note: Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter of the story, which I hope you all like so far. Well, not much to say, I guess, just that I hope you'll understand what Ron's saying every time he's speaking (you'll see what I'm talking about... ;) ).

So, I'll let you read now... Enjoy! :)

Love And War Don't Discriminate Between Nations

~Life Always Leaves Its Marks Behind~

The sun was starting its way up to the sky, the rosy tints of the dawn making their appearance too, a so tangible relief for such a stressful existence. The air around the nature was strangely sweet and light and that could even seem suspicious to the sufferers. It seemed such a good day, even though that surely would be proved wrong later; the war never seemed to give a break to the mortals. War was just a spoiled child that was playing with some thirsty-for-glory-and-gold 'toys'….

Hermione let her breath out as a soft sigh, various thoughts making their appearance into that agitated mind of hers. After long time, she thought of her family, actually a subject she dreaded to think about these days. Her heart drowned in some guilt and sadness, but she knew that things were like this just because they couldn't be any other way; she just hoped they were all alright….

Another week had passed in that forest, the three people wandering around carefully, mistakes weren't allowed at the moment. Every day that passed was relief to them, yet it was pain, as they didn't know what to expect from the one that was coming. Fear, instead of subsiding, became huger in their hearts, swelling like an unwanted balloon they didn't wish for keeping- yet, explosion wasn't far….

That was the reason she liked the dawn… she guessed, at least…. A sweet painkiller….

She finally decided to go back inside to the little, almost derelict hut Ron had accidently found in one of his searches in the woods. At first they were very suspicious and worried about it, not being sure if it was really abandoned or if it was a trap, but after watching closely, they decided against the later and stayed- mere walls and a makeshift roof were slight better than hard rocks and cold ground.

She entered the small hut quietly, thinking that the other two, tired existences that were living with her there were meagerly resting at the moment. However, with some surprise and startle, she noticed that Ron was already wide awake, standing next to a small, dirty window, an open book in his slightly stretched hands, trying as well as it was possible to let light fall on the tiny letters. His head jerked gently when he sensed her presence in the room and looked at her with some interest; the young woman felt her cheeks a bit warmer, despite the coolness they witnessed only a few seconds before.

Ron smiled to her for a brief moment, never lacking of his pure gentleness- Hermione quite admired him for that. She saw him then flipping through the pages of his book rather impatiently and when he seemed to found what he was looking for, his cobalt blues eyes rested once more on hers and with some nervousness, he opened his mouth slowly: "G-Good… mo-morrrning…"

Hermione was slightly surprised as she heard him trying to speak English and having achieved in saying even such a small phrase so adequately; she smiled a little to him and repeated his words lowly, not wanting actually to wake the little girl up. She glanced once at the man, who was still looking at her with interested eyes, and she quickly lowered her eyes, feeling her chest getting warmer; she took a deep breath and went quickly and soundlessly at the only other sort of room the hut had, not really feeling very comfortable at the moment with the man there and without the lovely distractions from Luna.

She sat down on an old chair, looking forward to the almost empty and slightly dirty room, but her eyes weren't quite into observing the place- her mind was once again haunted by the man that was some meters away- her entire world seemed to include so much of him now.

He had started to read books after that fateful night under the moonlight. With some very poor communication, Ron had explained her that he was trying to learn English or at least the very essentials so he could speak a bit with her (of course the last one was just an assumption of hers, rather than his saying). He somehow had found- or he always had them with himself- a couple of books with English and Italian, as well as a small dictionary, from which he was reading almost all day, whenever he hadn't to look for food or take care of his daughter. Hermione was in great awe of his efforts, as with times like these and with people having more crucial problems than communication- and of course they were no exception to this-, he still was trying hard to learn, even though it would be considered at least hard for a stranger to learn a completely unknown language at that age and with no quite the right 'equipment' to do it well; yet Ron was still trying with almost all the power of his mind and will. Hermione wasn't very sure of this at first, but only until incidents took place and became worthy proves of the statement; she just couldn't forget what had happened the other day…

-Flashback:

It was very late at night, probably during wee hours. Hermione shivered a bit and put her thick, woolen jacket even more tightly around her thin body, her arms firmly snaked around her ribs, wanting to warm herself a bit more. The air she was exhaling every few seconds was more visible with the minutes passing and the woman thought that her night stroke should be forgotten; between her health and her trying to lull herself, she decided on the former.

She quickly walked into the small hut, quietly as she remembered that Ron and Luna must have been sleeping by now. She was ready to face the almost pitch-black room and attempt to find the thin, too cold blanket on the floor, but as she was under the doorway, she noticed a dim light from the far corner of the room. At first she got a bit alarmed, but only half a second later she surprised looked at the lean figure of Ron, all curled up and sitting on the floor. As the woman stepped in, she observed him more carefully and she noticed a book resting on the thighs of his long, bended legs. He seemed to be really focused on what he was reading, as his eyes were traveling rather quickly from left to right, taking in the thousands of words. In his right hand, a small candle was lit, putting it really close to the book so the small letters would be noticeable. With some worry, Hermione saw his hand, almost all the skin covered with trickles of melted wax that even reached his slim wrist, now merely solidified by the wintry air. She thought for a moment how many little scars would be evident from the burning the hot, liquid material caused to his white skin, but Ron himself didn't seem to observe any of it- he was so concentrated to what he was reading, his lips even opened a bit, spelling soundlessly the words his blue eyes were making out—

Oh my…

His lips… His lips were almost as blue as his eyes.

Not giving much thought now to what he was doing, she just noticed his form: a form that was shaking quite violently, with the skin under the faint light not looking pale, but rather to a tint between blue and purple; that instantly got her scared and anxious. She went quickly before him, having to do something before hypothermia made its appearance.

Ron just then seemed to realized her, as his a-bit-red, a-bit-watery eyes tuned up to look at her standing figure; Hermione just hadn't time to think about it at the moment.

"Her-Hermione…" he choked out rather hoarsely, looking at her with somewhat painful eyes, yet he didn't seem to protest about it.

"You'll get cold!" she whispered seriously, yet with a tint of worry as well; at the moment, she didn't care if he could understand her or not- this was downright crazy!

Ron, by some inexplicable force, must have, more or less, understood what she talking about, as his head nodded behind her back, at the other side of the room. Hermione glanced around and with some difficulty she noticed Luna, who was now sleeping. As she looked closely, she noticed that the girl had been covered with every single cloth and blanket the man must be having with him, and even after that, the girl seemed slightly uneasy in her slumber. Hermione looked back down at Ron and his eyes were holding more pain now, as he was witnessing his baby actually be in torture; his spine seemed to shake even more now and a tear managed to escape from his long eyelashes and made a wet path across his cheek- Hermione couldn't do anything but be sorry for him.

He suddenly looked back at her with his watery, tortured eyes and she felt her heart a bit stabbed with pain; she had to help somehow, even with the stupidest way possible. She looked around expectantly and when her slightly widen eyes found what they looked for, she went and grabbed it, then going back to where he was curled up and kneeled next to him.

"Take it" she whispered softly and stretched her arm only a bit, her tiny blanket in her hand. Ron glanced at it while his dry, frozen lips were trembling, as his teeth were almost inaudibly chattering from behind, before looking her into the eye and shaking his head softly, even though his skin was mostly out because of the wintriness.

"N-No…" he whispered huskily, his voice almost silent "You… you… n-need…" he protested softly and he lowered his head a bit, gazing at the candle, while another hot substance escaped from the candle only to burn the man some more. Hermione took a deep breath and spoke again, even though mostly to herself.

"I'm not going to let you like this" she whispered seriously and he looked back again at her, his eyes filled with curiosity now, as well. Hermione looked back into those restless eyes as she let the cold fabric fall on the wooden floor between them. She gradually let her hand come closer to him and she gently took the candle from his shaky hand; his eyes widened only a little bit, but they still were following her, observing her actions. Hermione brought the candle near her face and blew the small light, leaving them in an almost completely dark environment, curling on a cold, uncomfortable floor; only a very faint set of silver moonbeams managed to emerge from the only, small window existent in the hut.

She looked back at the now half-shadowed face, being able to still see his shuddering, even though his stiff body seemed to try to tame the shake. Hermione came closer to his body and even from this small distance, she could feel the sharp coldness that was encircling his momentarily weak body. Without much hesitation, the woman took his hands from his lap and she securely put them between her own ones. Their iciness scared her a bit and she quickly started to rub the skin kindly, yet with some force, wanting just to emit as much warmth as probable. She once glanced at his face and she made out a hint of surprise, but at the same time, she felt the hands between hers becoming less stiff, despite their chilliness. Slowly and carefully, she kept on the process, which after some minutes seemed to rise just a little bit the temperature of his palms. Then she slowly took one of her hands away from their meager bond and took the neglected blanket from between them, opening it fully and then putting it on both of them, trying to fully cover both of their bodies, even though that was quite improbable. She felt his eyes looking at her and she dared to look back, suddenly feeling warmer inside and forgetting for a bit the cold embrace of the air around them. She let the lingering emotion to warm her heart a bit and she took his large hands once again from under the blanket, warming them as the contact was warming their souls- Hermione was quite unable to believe that just the touch of the skin could make her soul feel such peace.

Minutes flowed like this, the silence never breaking. After rubbing his palms for such a time, his skin seemed a little bit warmer from under her touch and his eyes, unconsciously, seemed a little more painless. Hermione, without actually realizing from where this new want of hers appeared, she took her right hand away and out of the blanket, gradually approaching his still rather bluish face. Ron didn't seem to mind, as his eyes were faithfully staring at her face, until her palm cupped his wintry, a-bit-stiff cheek. The contact sent shivers to her spine, but not actually from the cold that was torturing him, no… It was something more important.

His eyes half-closed slowly, as the skin touched skin, as the slight warmth met the ice. The brunette just stayed there, looking at him with her lucky eyes, even though they were still worried for him. She suddenly saw his head leaning a bit closer to her hand and then bended only a tiny bit, so his ice-cold lips would softly brush on the skin of her inner wrist, where the pulsation instantly got brisker. Her eyes got slightly larger and her heart swelled a little, sending the blood with new-found power in every cell of her body. Her restless eyes were glued on him, his head slowly dragged away from her hand as he let it tiredly rest on the hard, cold rock wall behind them. And all Hermione did was holding his hands and watching him, hearing his breathing, which slowly started to become calmer and deeper, finally sleep let this worn-out existence to find some hours of tranquil.

Sleep never came to her, though, as the blood was rushing in her veins, never letting her find her few moments of precious sleep. She tried to remember the sweet lullaby her mother used to tell her when she was a child, but the words suddenly seemed cold and empty, only succeeding in making her heart clenching uncomfortably from the pain. She wouldn't sleep that cold night.

She never took notice of the form next to her, which through deep sleep, slowly leaned closer to her, until the head was resting on her small shoulder. Hermione was slightly surprised, but as she looked down at his still bluish, yet more peaceful, face, when she felt his fingers gradually shifting and curling under hers, as she was overwhelmed by new, sweet balm inside, she instantly felt more serene and whole- and this just because of the sight of him and of the different warmth he was emitting and giving to her…

And without realizing, her eyes closed and she fell asleep…

-End of Flashback.

...

It was a warm day, the sun already standing right above their heads. Hermione, Ron and Luna were all at the riverbank doing actually nothing but merely enjoying the warm afternoon like they were on a trip, the two elder people just trying to push out of their minds the shivering thoughts of what most probably happened out of this forest, even for a while. Ron and Hermione were sitting next to each other casually on the soft grass, gazing at the bright surface of the water calmly, while Luna was nearer the river, playing with stones and with wooden sticks she had found here and there. Both Ron and Hermione looked at her as she was squealing happily at the moment, and they smiled warmly at the sight, a sweet reminder of better times. Hermione then heard Ron sighing softly and she looked up to him, seeing the gleam in his beautiful eyes as he was staring at his little angel.

"She's beautiful, you know" she said to him casually, her eyes too gluing to the beautiful sight of the girl. When the man next to her turned his head around a bit and looked at her, she turned hers too, already getting lost at the sight of his perfect irises. He smiled gently at her before speaking.

"Si, she be…" he said with his smooth voice that lingered in her ears. She was glad that the last few days they were able to speak a bit more with each other, as Ron now knew a few English that allowed him to speak. Besides that, he also asked Hermione if she could teach Luna some things as well, as he seemed to find it essential for his daughter to speak some, as well. Hermione was more than willing to help them, so she every now and then she would spend time with the little girl and she would teach her some words. Luna seemed quite happy spending more time with her and she proved to be rather quick learner, just like her father. "She like her mother…" he continued more lowly this time, his voice just above a whisper, and his eyes were now staring into vacancy. Hermione felt her heart beating more quickly and she stared at him with some surprise and anticipation.

Ever since she learnt from him that Luna was his daughter, she always wondered about his life; where was his wife? Why was he hiding with his child, why did he even was there instead of his homeland? The numerous questions about him were hunting her mind continually, but she wasn't alarmed by them- she was entirely sure she wouldn't be in danger with him.

Ron finally looked back at her after some long moments, his eyes a bit sadder than usual. He exhaled noisily and glanced at the ground between them for a moment before resting his blue orbs once more on her dark brown ones; Hermione waited patiently until he'd speak, if he was intending to do so. The wait wasn't long, as some seconds later, his lips parted.

"I marry Flora when 18- Flora 17" he spoke softly, his eyes not looking at hers anymore, but at the calm water before them- the sight seemed to calm him a little. "We verrry happee, live Napoli, beautiful town" His mind once again seemed to travel elsewhere, most probably somewhere in southwestern Italy, where his home was. "Flora no work, I make wood cher, wood table… we have everrry thing et amore, but war start and we scared and then my papa and mama dead and we alone but alrrrright.

Then Luna come and I happee and Flora happee, but weak and I worry but Flora say it be alrrright and smile but I so worry. And when Luna two, I need wood for work and it be winter and Flora say I help but it be verrrree cold and I say no, but Flora come and help. And then wind and snooo, but she wit I. Et other day, Flora ill and I worry and need help but I can not and Flora more ill… Flora strong soool bat little bodee and weak and then… then dead…" his voice almost inaudible and rather husky in the end as his eyes were drowned by salty liquid and sorrow, but he just let it be there, not letting it spread. Hermione felt her heart almost beating not at all, hearing his sad, stained story and felt his sadness reaching her soul inevitably, but he didn't blame him for a thing- she just felt so sorry.

"But I glad, Luna not home when Flora ill, Luna wit nonno et nonna, so no ill. If Luna be ill too, I no know what I do…" he told her then almost absentmindedly, like he was talking mostly to himself, rather to her. Hermione couldn't stand seeing him like this anymore and she hesitantly stretched her hand and touched his shaky, broad shoulder reassuringly. Ron looked a bit more at the water before looking back at her with sad eyes that were shining awfully from his unshed tears. Her own eyes were quite serious, yet reassuring and calm, so he would feel better, if that was even possible. Ron then let a minute smile to appear on his face, even though it didn't fully reach his eyes.

"I'm very sorry to hear that" Hermione whispered gently to him as her eyes stared back to his bottomless ones. Ron let his smile to become only a tiny bit wider.

"No… I know Flora be happee wit we…" he said with a melancholic tone in his deep voice and he let his eyes to rest on the little girl before them, his eyes shining again from mere calmness.

Hermione just stared at him with her pupils, the sight a bit heartbreaking as her mind wandered around the new-found story of him. She thought with awe how he was still able to remain so calm and content after so much pain, after losing almost his entire family and with a war painfully staying on their backs, but the answer came shortly after looking into his eyes.

He was doing this just for the little child before them, trying desperately to give her an as-normal-as-feasible life, just a peaceful world to live in…

And Hermione knew that the man that was sitting next to her was a true hero…

...

Her mind was still full of his words, her thoughts so filled with him and the pain he had to endure so far in his life. As she looked at the horizon, the orange tints of the sunset reminded of his golden hair and then she thought of his wife: Flora. She felt sorry for her, actually not being able to savour her life, living happily and fully with her man and daughter like it was supposed to be, but died because of her want to be with him, to help him and ease his hard work and toil…. She died because she seemed to want to help and care for the people she loved….

'Let her rest in peace…' she prayed in her mind as the sky was becoming redder and redder. She sighed and walked towards the bank of the river, her mind still restless, yet still not tired, but numb….

She walked slowly without realizing where her feet were heading- the silence of the nature engulfed her more greatly than she had been asking. Step by step she was approaching something she didn't knew, a twist in her mind that she wouldn't fully grasp due to her shock….

But it was still rather early.

The walking was almost endless as her mind was like in grieving- Ron's words had affected her more than she would think. In her mind, she imagined his sorrowful, watery eyes, which held pain and tiredness, his innocence now overshadowed by the venomous emotions. Hermione couldn't stand this.

She suddenly heard muffled noises steaming from some meters before her, from somewhere near the river. At first she was alarmed and worried, but something else forced her to keep going, to investigate what was the source of the sounds. She carefully and silently started to take steps, her eyes ready to catch even the faintest movement. She hid behind thick trunks as she was looking around curiously, the sounds already a bit louder and clearer. She kept going on, until a tiny clearing, just a couple of meters away from the riverbank, was visible. She scanned the place with her eyes and at first she thought that no one or nothing was there, until she saw what was making the soft noises: Ron.

Her eyes widened unconsciously at the sight of him, as he was slowly undressing himself. Hermione felt her cheeks getting hot but her eyes seemed unwilling to pull away from his tall figure. She continued watching him as he was taking off his boots and thick socks, as he was taking off his trousers to expose long, strong, so pale legs. Hermione felt her body setting actually on fire as she was staring at his body, his long arms escaping from the scarlet, woolen jacket, then stretching to take off the brown jumper, leaving the lean body with nothing but a pair of dark boxers on. The woman remained there speechless, looking with big eyes at his broad, yet lean chest and abdomen, his muscles rather defined and the bones clearly visible, yet his pale skin had countless scars, some faint while other seemed to have caused such harm to the existence. And as the man was bending a bit and he was stretching his left arm to leave his blouse rest on the ground… she saw what she thought she would never see- and hoped she wouldn't ever see- in her life: 706853... 706853... 706853...

The number seemed already to hunt her mind in a torturing way and she suddenly felt relieved that she didn't gasp from the pure shock, otherwise he would take notice of her presence, a thing Hermione didn't want right now; the shock was still so fresh that she couldn't think of anything else…

The 6-figure number that was on the skin of the inner side of his lower arm put her in a fantigue, as her mind didn't seem to comprehend the too many signals that were being sent to her brain. Surely, this had to be unreal, a mistake of hers, why Ron would ever be in an internment camp, why—?

Her head was now dizzy- she could stand this no more. As the smoothing sounds of the water being interrupted, as the redhead figure was sinking in the fluid substance, Hermione sunk in a whirl of desperation and confusion, the pain too unbearable for some reason... So she tried to escape; she ran away.

...

She was sitting in the hut silently as she was watching Luna quietly sleeping with her still-a-bit puffy eyes. Her hand slowly made its way to the girl's head, stroking the long, soft hair of hers soothingly, in hope of calming the baby girl and also herself. The sun had disappeared from behind the mountains for some hour now, only leaving a trace of its golden colours in the light blue veil. Her mind was now totally blank, but she knew that this would end the moment Ron was back there; she knew her mind needed answers at the moment, despite the pain they would bring altogether.

Some minutes later, Ron finally came, seeming exceptionally calm. Her eyes instantly focused on him, observing his slightly wet hair as he was sealing the door behind him. When he turned around, his eyes instantly met hers and he most probably noticed her uneasiness and emotional pain, as his face turned into holding a worried expression and he took some steps closer to her. Hermione took a deep breath and stood up, knowing that if they were about to talk, they had to speak away from the girl- two people were enough to hold the huge weight of the world's pain.

Ron looked unsure as the brunette approached him, standing right in front of him, only some mere centimeters between the two forms. They looked into each other's eyes for what seemed to be an entire eternity and even more, even though it was only a couple of minutes; minute had lost its value in that forgotten-by-time forest.

"I want to talk to you" she whispered with her quite hoarse voice and Ron looked at her anxiously for a moment before nodding once and guiding her to the other, smaller room of the hut. When they were there, Ron turned around and stared at her with his so expressive eyes. Hermione just wanted to cry more as she was staring back into this set of eyes, but she just blinked back the venomous sea that was threatening to escape from her sockets.

"What?" the man asked gently, looking at her rather curiously, yet still concernedly. Hermione took another lungful of air inside her, not wanting to hear her voice shaking or cracking while speaking. She looked deeply into those bottomless seas before finding fully the courage she didn't have inside her.

"I… I saw the mark on your arm… the number…" she whispered softly and her fingertips barely touched the spot where the mark was. Ron's eyes doubled their size as they were looking down at her shocked, while his arm, from under her faint touch, stiffened. His bottom lip started to tremble uncontrollably.

"P-Pleazze… not say people… if find I, Luna all alone, she dead… I…pleaze…" he whispered urgently with his painful tone, his orbs swiftly gained an awful, so hurting shine. Hermione instantly shook her head vividly, her own tears being held with much difficulty.

"I won't tell a soul about it, trust me…" she whispered with some passion and ache in her small, somewhat weak voice "I wouldn't ever do this to you… I just… I just want to know, Ron…"

The sound of his name seemed to have an effect on him, as he slightly shivered, his navy blue eyes glued on hers like the bond was crucial. He didn't say a thing for a moment and after inhaling deeply but also shakily, he parted his lips.

"I… I be Ebreo…"he said with his low voice and lowered his head somewhat miserably, his breathing uneven. Hermione was quite sure what he had told her and her eyes widened, her heart stopped a bit. Hebrew… The pain came immense in her and rushed in her body easily, taking away every emotion that seemed to be comforting. "They… they take I before Luna come, when I work… Flora not know it and then very worree and sad for me… There I sad and pain and…" he trailed off miserably as his form started to shake, his eyes still not daring to meet hers.

"And how did you managed to go away?" she asked gently, her eyes seeking for his, wanting to see his angelic eyes and got lost in them, so she could take away his pain and they would take hers, mending each other's souls merely, yet greatly.

"I and other men make dead and then go… When I go back, I and Flora go to Sardegna so no people see we again… then Luna come and we bit happee again, but I weak and Flora care I…" he said with few words and finally his voice cracked, no holding any more strength to go on. Hermione felt a hot tear making its way across her face and she stroked his cold cheek with her palm, a motion that made the man let a soft sob escape from his lips. He hesitantly looked at her from between his auburn eyelashes, his eyes all drowned in poisonous tears that were continually producing, but never being shed. Another sob was heard and another clench made her heart ache. The look in his eyes told her everything and she nodded once before letting her hand falling to her side, as the man was already making his departure, getting away from the so tangible misery in the stuffy air. Hermione let some more tears to course down her face.

After some hour, she went back to the other room, her tears no more staining her pale face, the hurt no more stabbing her spirit so harshly. She saw Luna still sleeping on the one side of the room, looking calm in her slumber. After another moment of looking at the child, Hermione went near the dirty window, seeing the sight before her.

The nature seemed to be during its loneliest phase, as the moonlight seemed duller that night, as the silence seemed grave-like this time. On the so-strangely-immense clearing, a lost man was sitting all alone, looking like a small, weak twig in a huge valley that's tortured by a storm, all broken and vulnerable and alone. All she could see was his curled back, which was shaking violently; all the pain finally seemed to be out…. And all Hermione did was staring at him, as his pain became also hers, as his tears and throbbing became another sting in her heart.

And as she was looking at him with her wet eyes, she was hoping for the best for him, if best was still apparent in that world….

-Well, I hope Ron's words weren't way too confusing; he's still learning English, don't forget...! ;)

-And I also hope you know what to do at the moment... Some feedback would be so much appreciated!

-As for chapter 4, well, it's on its way and I think it'll be updated until the weekend- but no promise, my pals... So, until then... :) xxx