20000 words milestone, the story is getting somewhere. :D

Chapter 11

He was dead and it was all her fault.

She abandoned him, him who saved her from certain death when everyone turned a blind eye.

He was a git sometimes, but he was always her friend at the end, no matter what happened.

Heroic and noble with, as she smartly labelled it, his 'saving-people-thing'.

Her best friend, who she knew so well, was gone.

Dead. Gone. Destroyed by Voldemort.

Her blank brown eyes looked helplessly around, desperate to find something that will make this cruel illusion go away.

It has been almost two days since the edition announcing Harry's death came out, and Hermione felt as empty and dead as she did when she first heard it.

Even after all the madness she went through these last few years, not even seeing Voldemort caused a chaos of the magnitude that erupted from the news of Harry's death. The disbelief, the anger, the accusations, the grief, screaming, agonized wails; it was the most terrifying thing the young woman had seen in her whole life.

Tonks was clearly the worst, going into a hysterical comatose that left everyone very worried. had to sneak some dreamless sleep potion as well as a calming draught to finally overcome her extreme distress that could've hurt the baby.

There was a very noticeable shift in the atmosphere of the house. It was a refuge to the few remaining order members who needed a safe place to stay in. As she walked around the house, she was met with many blank and hopeless looks. It was as if the fight for freedom has left every single member of the house. Hermione wasn't surprised, she felt the exact same. First Dumbledore, then Harry, Kingsley and Remus; any powerful candidate for leadership was either dead or hiding. If they didn't have a leader that could face Voldemort himself, what was the point of fighting?

The bushy-haired teen wanted to shake her head violently, to shout out that they had to keep fighting. She would've done it in a heartbeat, but there wasn't any hope.

There wasn't even any point in going to find her parents. First, she had no way of getting there undetected. The death eaters were everywhere. Second, even if she somehow made it to Australia, her parents would most likely hate her for modifying their memories, perhaps not even wanting to go back to England. Who would? The country was stuck in a war that was eating it from the inside.

"Hermione." She heard a voice behind her, turning around to find out that Ron was standing in the doorway of her small room, a weird glint in his eyes.

She groaned internally, Ron was the last person she wanted to talk to right now. Even after their best friend's death was announced, Ron didn't seem to feel even slight remorse of his decision. It was the opposite actually. He spent his time gloating about the fact that he was right and how he saved their life from going down with Harry.

Obviously, he got a very negative reaction out of it, being slapped by Hermione, his brothers looking murderous and his parents shouting at him at the top of their lungs. However, Ron refused to change his opinion, treating everyone with distaste and giving Hermione looks that made her skin crawl.

"Yes, Ron?" The young woman asked carefully, alert for any strange behaviour.

"We need to talk." The redhead said firmly, entering her room before her consent, setting himself next to her, on the bed.

She subconsciously slightly back, creating a space between them that was comfortable enough for her.

"Do we? About what?" She asked, not really sure if she even wanted to know.

"Us, Hermione. We need to talk about us." He replied as if it was clear as sky.

She frowned at him. "Us? What are you talking about Ronald? Since when is there an 'us'?"

Hermione caught a spark in his eyes that almost made her gasp in fright, but it was gone before she could process it.

"Don't play stupid with me Hermione, we both know there was a reason you left with me, instead of staying with him." The disgust in his voice when he said the last word filled the young witch with a rapidly expanding fiery anger.

"Yes Ron, there is a reason; it was because I was stupid and caught up in the moment. If I could go back in time, I would without a doubt choose Harry." She told him sharply, daring him to challenge her.

Challenge her he did. The redhead jumped to his feet, his face distorted into an ugly sneer.

"Why? To get yourself killed when Harry went on another of his stupid suicide missions? Whether you want to admit it or not, I was right this time! It took him less than a day to get killed without us guarding him!" Ron snarled, spit flying out of his mouth.

She stood up as well, from anger and disgust. She jabbed a finger at his chest while her voice took a much more dangerous tone.

"And why do you think Harry... died? It's because we left him Ron! Don't even start claiming you would survive on your own when the whole wizarding world is after you, you barely survived with us!"

He grabbed her hand, his sudden gentleness shocking her enough not to recoil at the contact. His blue eyes met her brown eyes, filled with helplessness that looked unnatural on him after the last few days.

"Hermione please, you said that you loved me before. You know that's why you chose me. Don't you see? This is probably the only chance we'll get to be together, who knows what is coming next? I... I like you Hermione, I really do. Can't you see it?"

She looked deep into his blue eyes, searching for something. They stood like that for a few minutes, Ron holding Hermione's hand close to his chest, their eyes locked. The air became heavy with the tension. At long last, Hermione broke contact, staring at her feet in defeat.

"No Ron. I can't see it. You can claim it as much as you'd like, but you're lying to yourself. I meant every word I said that day, it will never happen between us Ronald." She told him. "I'm sorry." Hermione already turned around, her last words almost not heard by him.

"Hermione... I..." Ron whispered desperately, anguish clear on his face.

"No Ron, it's never going to work." She said without turning around, leaving the room before the redhead could say anything else.

The red haired wizard stared in shock at the doorway, where his best friend and who he hoped to be his girlfriend just stood moments ago, telling him that it wasn't possible.

Old insecurities started to rise within him, only to be suddenly overshadowed by an overwhelming rage.

That ungrateful mudblood, she should be begging me on her knees to even pay attention to her! A voice snarled in his mind, filled with cold anger.

A sight suddenly stopped his line of thought. Ron looked at the man standing in the little mirror across him, tall and proud. His red hair almost reached his eyes and still had a dirty tint in it. There was something in his features of his face that made the impression of a person who went through a lot, and was not glad for it. But it was his eyes that drew Ron's attention. They were a darker blue than usual, devoid of any warmness. They looked cold and almost insanely angry, making him shudder.

It was a peculiar look that made Ron stop on his tracks, he knew he saw that look before. The Ministry, Department of Mysteries, Lucius Malfoy and all the other death eaters; they had the same blank and emotionless eyes that stared at him right now.

Was that really what he has become? Did he really look and think like a murderer? What happened to him? Did he truly abandon Harry to save his own skin? His best friend? His brother in everything but blood?

Don't act innocent dear Ron, you know you always wanted to. The Boy Who Lived overshadowed you on every way, now he is dead. You can finally prove everyone how amazing you are. A voice whispered into his ear, sounding like a hiss, yet still having a seductive tone that made the redhead shudder.

Ron closed his eyes. Why couldn't this voice leave him alone? Why did it have so much influence on him?

It is rude to refuse help that is offered to you Ronald. The voice once again filled his mind, sounding disappointed.

Ron was distracted by the sound of footsteps behind him.

"Hermione?" The young man called out hopefully, turning around.

However it wasn't Hermione's chocolate brown eyes that greeted him, but fiery brown eyes that belonged to a very livid redhead witch.

"Ron." Her short greeting had a very angry tone to it, which made Ron gulp in pure fear, knowing that this was not going to be a pleasant talk.

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