* * * * *
I'm coming round to open the blinds
you can't hide here any longer
my god you need to rinse those puffy eyes
you can't lie still any longer
and yes they'll ask where you've been
and you'll have to tell them, again and again
and you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
but I promise you you'll see the sun again
and you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness
and I promise you you'll see the sun again
-Dido, "See the Sun"
* * * * *
The Hermione Granger that arrived at her flat was a shade of the woman that had left it only hours ago. She entered the apartment a tattered, defeated witch. She carefully stepped out of her fireplace and walked dazedly into her bedroom, ignoring a purring Crookshanks nipping at her ankles. She began slowly removing her delicate dress, high heels, and make-up, all the while trying to busy her body so her mind wouldn't think about the events of the night.
She pulled on her most comfortable pair of pajamas, pale lavender bottoms with a matching camisole, and sat on her bed and stared unblinkingly into her reflection in the dresser mirror.
The emotions Hermione had been fighting to suppress slowly began seeping out as a mixture of anger and hurt began bubbling inside her. Crookshanks, somehow sensing the situation, fearlessly jumped into her lap and gave a faint meow as he stared into her glistening eyes. Hermione automatically began stoking his ginger fur as she continued to gaze into the mirror.
Her emotions reached a climax as tears began falling yet again. Frustrated, she angrily stood up from her bed and grabbed the item nearest her; a glass vase filled with yellow lilies on her nightstand. Crookshanks leapt from her lap. She gave a furious shriek and threw it violently
into her reflection in looking glass. The vase shattered into nothing, while the mirror was left half in pieces on the floor and half cracked on its mounting on the wall. The yellow lilies lay scattered on the floor, petals ripped and askew.
* * * * *
"What do you mean you can sense him?" Bellatrix snarled at Ron as he stood before the Death Eater, feverishly wringing the cloth of his fine shirt with his hands.
"H-he's…he's in me…he's f-fighting…" Zombie Ron stammered as a bizarre expression washed over his drained face.
"Impossible," she drawled "The spell has been in place for nearly 5 hours. Not even that crackpot old fool Dumbledore could fight the Imperious Curse after that long." She rose from Ron's navy blue sofa and walked over to him. "It's simply not possible."
"I know it's not-but-somehow-the Weasel-he IS-"
"Then you must not let him win," she responded, her annoyance rising with every word. "Suppress the little bugger until his spirit is completely broken."
"I've been trying… but the Weasel is persistent-"
"Make him give up!" she interjected with irritation. "And that's an order!"
"Yes, My Lady."
Bellatrix's dark eyes lit up as Rookwood and Dolohov entered the room. "Ah! Gentlemen! All the preparations are competed?"
"Yes. Everything's in order," Dolohov responded.
"Excellent," she purred turning toward Ron again. "Now, do you remember that little task I told you about when you first arrived?" she questioned him sweetly.
He nodded in acknowledgment.
"Complete it by the time the sun has risen, and your mission will be nearly fulfilled," she whispered alluringly over his shoulder.
* * * * *
Hermione had seriously contemplated staying in her warm bed forever under the protective covers and never facing the outside world again. But Hermione the realist knew that that just wasn't possible. Unable to sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time without waking up from a fresh nightmare of Harry with Cho, she finally gave up on sleep shortly before sunset. Carefully stepping over the broken pieces of glass that still littered her floor, she numbly put on her bathrobe and went into the kitchen to make herself some tea. She had barely taken a sip from her piping hot cup when there came a feeble knock from her front door.
She stared at the door for a few seconds, perfectly still and quiet, straining to hear who could be on the other side.
"Hermione?" Ron's voice called softy in the early morning darkness.
She released the breath she had unconsciously been holding. Hermione slowly sauntered to the door and let him in.
"What are you doing here so early?" she whispered to him as he walked though the threshold of her flat.
"I had a sneaking suspicion that you would already be up" he whispered back. Ron started at her for a moment, and Hermione knew that he must have noticed the bags under her eyes from her restless night
"Do you want something to drink?" she quickly asked him, gesturing to the kettle on the stove.
"No, thanks."
They both sat down at the kitchen table. Hermione began sipping her tea.
After a few seconds, Ron suddenly cleared his throat and grabbed her hand. "I'm really worried about you Hermione. I know things must be ruddy awful for you right now, but I wanted to let you know that no matter what happens between you and Har-" he paused "er…HIM…I'll always, you know, be here for you. No matter what."
Hermione knew how incredibly difficult it was for Ron to express his feelings and was incredibly moved at his attempt to console her.
She gave him a weak smile. "Thank you. But really, you don't need to be concerned about me. I'll-"
"Try to pretend that everything is perfectly fine even though the world is crumbling around you?" he finished for her, giving her an uncharacteristic serious look.
"Oh, honestly Ronald," she said averting his gaze. "You know that's not true."
"You always were a dreadful liar," he said with a smirk. "I know you-"
But Ron was abruptly cut off when Crookshanks suddenly leapt onto the table with teeth bared and claws out.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione cried as the large ginger cat gave a venomous hiss and lashed out at Ron, scratching his arm and instantly drawing blood.
"Bloody cat!" Ron roared grabbing his injured forearm and rising from the table, knocking his chair to the floor in the process.
Hermione quickly grabbed Crookshanks from the gruff of the neck and deposited him in her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
When she returned, Ron was standing near the door and examining the long, deep cut in his arm.
"I am so sorry," she said moving to examine his wound.
"I still don't know why you keep that stupid thing," he muttered. "Hasn't liked me from the get-go…"
"Don't be daft Ron. He usually does like you," Hermione murmured absentmindedly while retrieving a towel to clean the cut. He flinched as she applied it to his injury. "I haven't the slightest idea why he attacked you like that."
"It's because that cat's nutters, that's what it is."
"Oh, he is not. He's part Kneazle for Merlin's sake," she said exasperatedly. "And stop flinching! It can't hurt that much!"
"How would you know?" he shot back. "Where you just attacked by a massive ball of grimy fur, razor-sharp teeth, and jagged claws?"
Hermione stopped nursing his wound and stared at him for several seconds.
"No," she responded softly and began bandaging his injury.
Ron sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't come here to make things worse for you."
"It's fine," she said coolly. "No worries."
"You don't have to do that you know."
"Yes I do," she replied, "You're dreadful at taking care of yourself when your healthy, let alone when you're actually injured."
"I meant the 'no worries' part," he said gently "You don't always need to be brave. Especially when something like this happens to y-."
"All done," she announced mid-sentence after she had finished wrapping his arm.
"Thanks." Ron said while peering out the window behind her.
"You're welcome," Hermione replied turning her head to see what he was staring at.
"Is it sunrise already?" he questioned her with an undertone.
"Seems about time" she answered rotating her body to peer at the clock on her mantle. When Hermione turned back to him, she was met with the end of his wand. "Ron?" she questioned.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm sorry about this Hermione," he answered sincerely. "I really am."
"Sorry about what?" she feverishly asked.
"I have no control. No choice."
"No choice?" she repeated, face tense and eyes studying him intently. "What are you talking about?"
"Stupefy!" he bellowed.
Hermione intuitively thrust herself to the floor to avoid the spell.
"Come on Hermione! Don't make this anymore difficult than it already is!" she pleaded to her.
She frantically began to reach in her bathrobe for her wand when a horrible sensation of panic hit in the pit of her stomach- she had left it in her bedroom. There was no way she could make it to her bedroom before Ron attacked her again. The front door was much closer, she thought.
Pulling herself off the floor with lightning speed, she made for a mad dash to the front door, only to be caught by Ron's strong arms in the process.
"Let go!" she screamed while struggling to break free from his hold.
"Just calm down! It'll be over s-ouch!" he cried as she hit him forcefully in his nether regions.
He relaxed his hold on her just enough that Hermione was able to wriggle from his grasp. She wanted to try and take his wand, but was afraid that he would try and grab her again, and so she sped off through the kitchen toward the door.
"Stupefy!" Ron shouted again, but missed Hermione by mere inches. She reached the door hurriedly unlocked it so she could flee.
"Colloportus!" Ron yelled from somewhere behind her and the door she had just managed to open sealed itself with an odd squelching noise.
Hermione turned around only to come face to face once again with Ron's wand.
"This isn't you, Ron!" she pleaded backed against the door. "This isn't you! Snap out of it! Whatever it is! Please Ron! Please!"
"There's no use," he told her bluntly. "The Ron you knew is gone."
"No…" she whispered, fresh tears prickling behind her already tired eyes. "No!"
There was a brilliant flash of red, and then everything went black.
* * * * *