A/N: Hermione's Mudblood scar is the one thing in the movies I wish was book canon, so I've included it in here. But I am well aware it was only addressed in the movies, and not the books.

Chapter 13

Crookshanks jumped up onto the bed, rousing Ron from his almost-sleep state. It was nearing midnight and his mind had only just started to shut down from all the thoughts running through his head.

Only a few hours ago, he'd found himself in a field with the other trainee Aurors in a realistic situation of an attack with Dark Magic. They were forced to work in teams to solve the problem and capture the "culprits."

It had been the hardest task so far, for a lot of it had been mind games, rather than actual magic, but they'd all passed.

Afterwards, like it had been in the week that had passed since Hermione's return, he'd come home and spent time together with his girlfriend. Then she'd gone home to her parents, he'd gone up to bed, and the day would begin again the next morning.

Whilst not ideal, it was what worked for them. Her parents' memories were slowly returning to normal, and as each day started, she became more confident in leaving them for longer periods of time. From what she'd told him, Ron thought they seemed happy to begin taking up normal aspects of their lives, such as going into London for things they needed or going out for meals at night.

Crookshanks walked across the bed, purring loudly as he searched for the most comfortable spot to sleep for the night.

It was nearing midnight, but Ron was unable to fall asleep — which was nothing unusual lately. Not having spent a single night with Hermione since her return frustrated him. He so desperately wanted to have her sleeping beside him again, to have his arms around her, to feel her warmth. It was lonely up in his room at Grimmauld Place when he knew that she wasn't too far away.

Crookshanks eventually settled by his head, taking up half of his pillow, his purrs louder than ever. Ron reached out to scratch the cat behind the ears.

He really was rather fond of Crookshanks now, and pleased that Hermione had asked him to continue caring for him. He'd begrudgingly accepted Kingsley's offer only a few weeks ago, but the request meant more when it came from Hermione. Besides, Crookshanks and he got along well when he wasn't after other animals Ron was fond of.

Ron had just started to drift off when something loud startled him awake again. At first, he thought he was dreaming, but he saw Crookshanks lift his head in the dark.

Something was banging.

Ron reached for his wand on the table beside him, lighting it and looking around. His room was empty.

Crookshanks jumped from the bed and scampered from the room, meowing loudly.

From across the hall, Harry's bedroom door opened. Ron saw the reflection of Harry's wand light.

"What on Earth is that?" he heard Harry say. The banging was getting louder, echoing throughout the house.

"It's the door," he then heard Ginny whisper. "Someone's at the door."

Ron sprang from the bed, joining his friend and sister in the hall. They both looked surprised.

"It must be someone we know," Harry said. "They wouldn't be able to find us otherwise…"

The three of them descended the stairs slowly, the desperation of whoever was at the door becoming apparent the closer they got.

They'd almost reached the bottom when a voice shouted, "Ron! Harry! Please open up. It's me!"

"Hermione!" Ginny said, and she ran the rest of the way down the stairs, into the hall and to the front door.

Ron just reached the hall himself when Ginny opened the door.

Hermione flew into the room, straight past Ginny, and threw herself into Ron's arms so forcefully that he staggered backwards against the wall.

"Hermione?" he said. "Hermione, what's wrong?" She trembled in his arms, and it took him a moment to realise she was sobbing. Her face buried against his chest as her whole body shook with terror.

Ginny came to stand near Ron and Harry, and they all looked at one another with a great deal of concern.

"Hermione," Ron said again, wrapping his arms around her, "what's the matter? Is everything okay? Are your parents —"

"It's her," Hermione sobbed into his chest. "It's… it's what happened. I… lived it… again…"

Ron shared another look with Harry and Ginny. Ginny looked very pale under the wand light, the usually stoic Hermione apparently unsettling her in this state.

"I don't understand, Hermione," Ron said. "What happened?"

But Hermione shook her head, refusing to break away from him. Her tears soaked his pyjamas as she pressed herself into his embrace.

"Why… why don't I get you a glass of water?" Ginny suggested in a shaky voice.

"Come and sit down," Ron said, and finally managing to pull her away from him, he guided her towards the living room where he forced her to sit on the couch. Harry lit the gas lamps around the room with his wand and now that he could see her properly, Ron saw that she was terrified. He'd never seen her look so frightened before.

He sat beside her and she immediately fell into his arms again.

Ginny returned with the water, but Hermione didn't realise, so Ron set his wand aside and accepted the glass.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered, "what happened?"

Ron felt Hermione shake against him again. He held her tightly, letting her know it was okay. Her tears dripped down his arm.

"It felt so real," Hermione sobbed. "Like I was there again…"

"What did?" Harry asked. "Like you were where?"

Hermione's hand moved down to her arm, and Ron saw her fingers trace the scar that had been etched into her skin some months ago now.

And suddenly he understood.

"Hermione…" he whispered.

"What?" Ginny asked, looking at Ron.

Hermione had not spoken once of what had happened to her at Malfoy Manor. It was as if she had wished to forget, and it seemed that she had for many months. Until now, when she no longer had to worry about fighting and winning a war, or finding her parents. Now, she had all the time in the world to ponder it.

"Hermione," he said again. "Are you… it's okay." And like he had done so back in Malfoy Manor, he wished nothing more than to have been the one to endure her pain.

Hermione shook her head. "It was a dream," she whispered, "but it was so real. I felt it… the pain… I felt it all again."

"It's okay," Ron repeated, holding her so tightly against him. "It's okay."

Ginny's face was so pale now. Her eyes darted from Ron, to Hermione, then to Harry, who also seemed to catch on to what Hermione was talking about. Harry had been there too; he had heard Hermione's screams.

"What —" Ginny began.

"It was the curse, Ginny," Harry whispered. "The Cruciatus Curse. Bellatrix Lestrange…"

Ginny looked sickened. Hermione trembled in Ron's arms.

"It felt so real," Hermione said. "Like I was there again. I woke up, terrified, and I came straight here. Please… please let me stay."

"Of course," Ron said. He wouldn't have let her leave in this state, even if she'd wanted to.

"Hermione," Ginny said gently, "Is there anything you need? Anything we can —"

"No," Hermione whispered. "No, I just need…"

The words were left unspoken, but everyone understood. I just need Ron. He squeezed her even tighter.

"Will you be okay if we go back upstairs then?" Harry asked, looking at Ron. It was clear he didn't think he should intrude, despite being Hermione's best friend.

Ron nodded.

"Let us know if you need anything," Ginny said as she followed Harry from the room.

Hermione kept her head buried against Ron; the absence of Harry and Ginny didn't even draw her away.

Ron's own resolve broke a little, his mind going back to when they'd all been held at Malfoy Manor. He remembered the screams like it had happened yesterday. He remembered the pain, how desperate he'd been to try to get to her.

But that was nothing compared to the pain she must have felt; the fear she'd felt. He'd not once seen her more frightened than he did now, curled up against him, shaking so badly, even after the dream had occurred.

"It's alright," he murmured, "it's alright."

Ron didn't know how long they sat there for, not speaking. Gradually, Hermione stopped trembling. It was well into the early hours of the morning when she finally moved, pulling herself away from Ron's hold.

When she looked at him, she barely resembled the Hermione he knew; her puffy, red eyes distracted him from her tear-streaked face. Her hair was more dishevelled than usual, and the look of absolute terror on her face had him wanting to pull her towards him again.

"Ron…" Her voice barely broke a whisper. "Stay with me… please."

"I will," Ron said. "Of course I will." He passed her the water he was still holding, and she accepted it.

"I don't want to go through that again."

Ron watched her, unsure of what to say. He couldn't tell her that the dream wouldn't happen again, because he didn't know. He'd never experienced the Cruciatus Curse before, but he had been tortured mentally by part of Voldemort's soul, and he remembered that the dreams, the voice inside his head, had come back night after night, even weeks after he'd stopped wearing it.

"I'm here," was all he said, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

It took Ron a moment to realise that she'd fallen asleep. Her rapid breathing evened out, and when he glanced sideways, careful not to move too much, he saw that her eyes were closed.

That was where Ron stayed for the rest of the night. His arms around her, sitting on the sofa, not moving. His body became numb, but he didn't dare leave her, not for a second. Sleep didn't come to him at all, sitting in the darkness, as the lamps had gone out long ago. By the morning, when Ginny and Harry came back down for breakfast, Ron was still wide awake.

"Ron," Ginny said quietly, "you need to sleep."

"Can't," Ron said, "I have training in a few hours."

"You can't possibly be considering —"

"I have to. It doesn't matter. I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

Ginny gave him a disapproving look that reminded Ron of his mother, but she said no more. She left the living room with Harry.

Hermione stirred against him, her head lifting up from his shoulder. She looked around the now light room, blinking.

"Oh, no!" she said. She looked at Ron. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Ron could only smile at her. "It's okay… it's okay."

She sat up fully now, untangling herself from his arms for the first time in hours. She still looked shaken from the night's events, but the few hours of sleep had brightened her.

Ginny and Harry entered again, the latter eating a piece of toast and dressed for training. Hermione and Ron both looked at them.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said. "About last night. About…"

"Don't be," Ron, Harry and Ginny all said at once.

Ron stood up. "I have to go in today, but if you'd rather I stay…"

Hermione looked as if she wanted nothing more than for him to stay, but after opening her mouth and closing it again, she shook her head. "I-I'll be… fine."

"I can stay with you, Hermione," Ginny said, speaking over Ron, who had just started to say he'd take the day off.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Ginny, but I should probably go home. Mum and Dad…" But her eyes glazed over for a moment, as if she was remembering the nightmare. When she came to a few moments later, she smiled again and nodded. "Thank you."

Ron kissed her forehead. "I'll just go and get ready," he said quietly.

As he went into the hall, Harry followed. "Hey, are you going to be alright?" he asked, sounding concerned. "You didn't stay up all night, did you? We have curse-breaking today. That requires some concentration…"

Ron stopped, turning to face Harry. "I couldn't just leave her. You saw her, she was terrified. What was I supposed to do?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder, back towards the living room, and then looked at Ron again. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

Ron nodded, heading for the stairs. "Maybe just make sure you have some triple strength coffee ready when I come back down," he said.

…

The day was a slow one. The lack of sleep didn't bother Ron nearly as much as his worry for Hermione did. When he'd left that morning, she'd perked up ever so slightly, but he didn't know if that was only for his benefit.

His mind kept flashing back to her trembling in his arms, the absolute terror she must have felt in having to relive being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. Then, he kept remembering that moment, all those months ago, when her screams had filled every part of him, drowning him in fear and panic and being absolutely convinced that she was going to die that day. He remembered the sickening feeling of dread that had overcome him, how he couldn't stop calling her name — for her benefit, and his own — and how every scream was both a blessing (because it meant she was still alive) and as if someone was running one hundred knives through him at once.

Harry nudged him, not for the first time.

Ron startled, glancing down at his wristwatch. It was only eleven.

"Sorry," he muttered, and he returned his focus to the list of deadly curses they had to identify the counter-curse for.

"You really should have taken today off," Harry muttered.

"Probably."

They worked in silence for some time, Ron's mind once again drifting. Harry recorded the remaining counter-curses before setting the quill down.

"Now to just actually remember how to do them," he said. "That's after lunch, performing them on dummies. Should be fun."

"Yeah," Ron murmured. "Should be."

Harry shook his head. "Do I need to shove another coffee down your throat?"

"Maybe something stronger," Ron said. "Something to stop me from worrying."

Harry smiled. "Not sure they have that here, mate."

The rest of the day dragged on even slower than the first two hours. It was the first day since he'd started training that Ron wished he wasn't there. It seemed talking about curses was the worst possible thing to be discussing after what had happened. Everytime an Unforgivable Curse was mentioned, his mind flashed back to the horrors of Malfoy Manor, and then to Hermione cradled against him last night, more vulnerable than he'd ever seen her.

By the time five o'clock came around, he was a total mess. He stumbled through the fireplace, tripping over the step that kept all the ash in. When he looked up, swearing at the fireplace, he saw a frantic Ginny before him.

"What's happened?" he asked. "Is Hermione okay?"

"She's asleep," Ginny said, her calm tone not at all matching her expression. "She's been okay today. She says she should go home, but she wants you to go with her."

"Me?" Ron asked, frowning. "Why?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. She loves you, she feels comfortable with you. I just think she's very, very frightened over what happened… Ron, what did happen?"

"Harry said last night," Ron said, "Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her on a pretence of searching for information, but it was Bellatrix Lestrange. You know why she did it. Why she chose her and not me or Harry. Where's Hermione sleeping?"

"In your room. Ron, you mean she… she did that just because of who Hermione… is?" Ginny followed him quickly as he headed for the stairs. "That's —"

"Sickening," Ron said. "Yeah, I know. Be thankful you weren't there when it actually happened…" He stopped on the landing, turning to face his sister. "You seem really bothered by it. Are you alright?"

Ginny's eyes darted towards the hall where Ron's room was. Then she looked back at Ron, nodding. "I just… I just wish I knew more about what you all did… none of you ever talk about it."

"And there's a reason for that," Ron hissed. "A very good reason." He pointed behind him to where Hermione slept. "No one wants to relive that."

Ginny nodded, but said no more.

Ron walked quickly towards his room, pushing the door open. Hermione was wrapped tightly under the covers of the bed, her eyes closed, her breathing even.

He sat on the edge of the bed, unsure whether or not to wake her. It was the calmest he'd seen her since yesterday.

But his weight on the bed disturbed her, her eyes blinking open sleepily. She looked up at him, smiling weakly.

"Hey," she said.

Ron returned her smile, pushing down his concern for her. "Hey."

"How was it today?"

Ron shrugged. "Alright." He squeezed her hand from somewhere under the covers. "Ginny said you want to go home…"

Hermione nodded. "I… Mum and Dad will be so worried."

"I'll go with you," Ron said, pushing aside his doubt around being in the presence of Hermione's parents. It would not be exactly how he'd imagined meeting them for the first time as someone other than Hermione's friend, but… when had he and Hermione ever been conventional?

She smiled again. "Are you sure?"

Ron nodded. "Of course." He offered his hand to pull her out of bed. She looked so tired still — more than Ron even felt — and still rather frightened. But at least she was smiling again.

When she was on her feet, Ron added, "You up for Apparating there? I've no idea where your house is."

Hermione nodded, gripping Ron's hand tightly.

Hermione Disapparated them into a small front garden, covered by large hedges that hid them from view of the cul-de-sac where Hermione's house was.

It was a quaint place, big and two-storeys. Ron stared up at it.

They'd barely reached the front door when it flung open and Hermione's mother appeared, looking both relieved and very upset.

"Oh, Hermione!" she cried, flinging her arms around her daughter. "You're alright! We were so worried. We… we weren't even sure you actually had been here at all — our memories were a bit —" Her eyes fell on Ron, who immediately dropped Hermione's hand that he'd still been holding, though it seemed a bit silly afterwards.

"I'm alright," Hermione said, her tone emotionless. "I just… well… I just needed to see…" She looked over her mother's shoulder and into the house. "I really just need to go to bed."

Hermione's mother stepped aside as Hermione walked past her. Ron followed quickly.

"Hermione —" her mother tried, her eyes wide with fear and shock. "Hermione, what happened? Why did you disappear?"

Her father had come into the hall now, looking just as bewildered.

"I-I'll explain in the morning," Hermione said, not meeting either of her parents' eyes. "I… promise." And before they could say anything more, she disappeared up the stairs, presumably to her room.

Ron, along with her parents, all watched in silence at the space Hermione had just stood. Then, to Ron's complete surprise, her mother addressed him by name.

"Ron… what… what is going on?"

Ron turned to them, feeling his face go red. He'd not at all imagined himself standing in the hall of the Granger house, alone with Hermione's parents. But they looked so desperate, and he didn't think lying to them was the way to go about it.

"Perhaps we should all sit down?" Hermione's father suggested, indicating an archway slightly behind him.

Ron nodded and silently followed him and Hermione's mother through the archway and into the living room. They offered him an armchair by the unlit fireplace, and they sat on a couch opposite him.

"Is she… is she okay?" her mother asked, her voice trembling slightly. "Is it… us?"

"Er, no," Ron said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Then what?" her father asked.

Ron looked between them, debating what exactly he should say. How could they possibly understand what had happened to her? How could he tell them that, after altering their memories for their own safety, their daughter had gone off on a deadly hunt for parts of the most evil-wizard-to-ever-exists's soul, had risked her life for a world neither of them were apart of, and then at one stage had an illegal curse performed on her that caused pain so excruciating that some people never recovered from it? What would they say?

But how could he lie to them either?

Hands wringing together, silently wondering if Hermione would murder him for telling them, he said, "How much do you know of, er, what happened after you… went to Australia?"

"Absolutely nothing," Hermione's mother — Jane, wasn't it? — said, her voice a whisper. "She won't tell us a thing."

"Right," Ron said. "Right, well…" And in that moment he made the decision. He had to tell them. And he did. He did his best to spare them the most horrifying details of the months following their departure from England, but he gave them the basis, stumbling on what had happened in Malfoy Manor more than once. He had to go back a few times to explain certain magic terms as best as possible for them, and when he did feel like they understood at least somewhat better, Ron found himself choking on his words a few times as he revealed the darker details. By the time he finished, both her parents looked at him, horrorstruck.

"She… she was tortured?" her mother asked.

Ron nodded.

"But… why?"

Ron said nothing for a long time. He stared at them both, feeling slightly sick. How was he supposed to answer that question truthfully? Had Hermione ever told them what it was like in the wizarding world for someone born to Muggle parents? And if he told them, what would they then think of him? Would they understand that not everyone shared those views? Would they understand how he felt about her?

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He averted their gaze, focusing on a small spot on the armchair. Eventually, he said, "They were just evil. This person… this Bellatrix Lestrange… she thought Hermione had information she needed. Which, she did, but Hermione… she didn't tell her…" He jumped to his feet, unable to bear their shocked faces any longer. "I… I'll go and check on her," he said. "And then I'll go home."

He went back into the hall and ascended the stairs two at a time. Reaching the top landing, he found himself standing in a small area with four doors. He had no idea which one led to Hermione's room, but his first attempt at opening one found him staring into an immaculate bathroom.

He found her room on his third try, Hermione once again asleep under a whole lot of covers. He watched her for a few moments, debating whether or not to do anything else, but then she stirred, her eyes looking at him heavily.

"Stay," she whispered.

"I —" Ron glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting her parents to be lingering, to see what he'd do. But they weren't; of course they weren't.

He moved over to the bed, where she was staring up at him, still half asleep. "Please stay," she whispered, and she shuffled over in her bed to make room for him.

Suddenly, the events of the day hit Ron like a Bludger to his head. The no sleep from the night before, the eight hours of training, and then explaining to Hermione's parents just what had had her running away from their house last night. Suddenly, he felt as if he could sleep for three days straight.

"I'll stay for a few hours," he said, and he laid down beside her, shoes on and everything. He'd stay until he was sure she wasn't going to relive the nightmare again.

But he was so tired, that the next thing he knew was the sun shining through Hermione's window, and her mother was calling them both down for breakfast.

This is one of my personal favourite chapters. I hope you all enjoyed!

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