Just Breathe

Disclaimer: No matter how much we wish/pray/pretend, we do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the series. The wonderful and brilliant J.K. Rowling created the Harry Potter universe, not us.

Authors Note: Reviews! We need reviews! This is our first story, so please be kind! We would really like some feedback from anyone who is willing to participate. If the story seems a little slow, we promise it will get better. And as of right now, our title is tentative, so anyone with ideas please let us know!

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But he's irresistible
Up close and personal
Now inescapable
I can hardly breathe
More than just physical
Deeper than spiritual
His ways are powerful
Irresistible to me
I can hardly breathe

-Jessica Simpson, “Irresistible”

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The Daily Prophet's Bachelor of the Century-

Harry Potter

By Cho Chang

Ever since his masterful defeat the darkest lord in the history of wizardry nearly 5 months ago, Harry James Potter not only managed to save the entire world as we know it, but to capture the hearts of countless witches along the way. With his intense emerald green eyes and unkempt yet captivating ebon colored hair, our 20 year old Mr. Potter is simply, in one word, irresistible. And praise Merlin ladies! In an exclusive interview with yours truly, Mr. Potter saids quote "No, I'm not seriously seeing anyone special right now. Just focusing on the new Quidditch season." When I inquired about 20 year old Hermione Granger, a longtime childhood friend who had recently been linked to Mr. Potter romantically, he only mentioned quote "We're best friends, and extremely close, but nothing more." Mr. Potter will be celebrating his 21st birthday this week with friends and family at small party, in his honor of course, at a remote location in the countryside near the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.


Hermione Granger blinked slowly and clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Not seriously seeing anyone special right now?" she repeated aloud, stopping in the middle of a highly congested sidewalk outside the Ministry of Magic where she worked. She eyed the picture that accompanied the article suspiciously. As she continued to read, her irritation began to increase with every word she took in. Once finished, Hermione forcefully folded the paper and tried to calm herself down. She continued walking, but instead of turning a left on the street that would have led her to her to her home, she practically ran into a dark ally and quickly Apparated. She had to go to 12 Grimmauld Place first. She had to confront her boyfriend now…

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Harry James Potter sat at the kitchen table of 12 Grimmauld Place. He was trying, without much success, to have a brainstorming session on how to improve his Quidditch moves with his best friend of almost 10 years, Ronald Weasley.

"There's nothing else to criticize you on, mate!" Ron exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Oh, come on Ron. There has to be more. You know I'm not nearly as fast as I was back at Hogwarts" Harry spat.

"Come off it! If anything, you're even faster than you were when you played for Gryffindor! Face it! You're just too bloody-" but Ron stopped in mid-sentence. He was interrupted by a loud slam at the front door, followed by the horrible, earsplitting, bloodcurdling screeches echoing from Mrs. Black's portrait.

"Filthy Mudblood! Repugnance of the wizarding world! Be gone from here!"

"Sounds like Hermione!" Ron yelled as he covered his ears to block out the portrait's insults.
As the two began to rise from the table to shut the curtains around Mrs. Black, they were thrust back into their seats as a fuming Hermione burst into the room, knocking the ancient kitchen door off its hinges along the way and sending it flat onto the floor with a thud. Harry and Ron exchanged shocked glances as they watched her hastily cross the gloomy room and stand with hands on her hips in front of them. Her normally placid and welcoming honey colored eyes had turned into pools of stormy brown, and the beautiful golden flecks that once adorned them transformed into what seemed to the bewildered pair as almost a fiery red. She simply glared at Harry.

"Uh…..bad day at work love?" he asked her warily, eyeing her work bag hanging over her shoulder.

He answer was another cold stare, but this time it was in Ron's direction.

"Err…I think…I'll be going now." Ron said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What? No!" Harry responded in a pleading voice. From his girlfriend's infamous Death Glare, he gathered he was in for it, and it appeared that Ron did as well. But Harry also knew that she detested arguing in front of people, and that she wouldn't dare unleash Hurricane Hermione until they were alone. Unfortunately for Harry, his last glimmer of hope for peace had already scrambled from its chair and out the kitchen through the now door-less archway, mumbling excuses about having left the fellytone running.

Harry gulped. The silence in the room was eerily deafening. Even the portrait of Sirius's mother, her shrieks having been droned out when Hermione had made her extravagant entrance, was now silent as a grave.

Harry opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but promptly clamped his jaw shut as Hermione suddenly lifted her hands from her hips and slammed down the now tattered copy of The Daily Prophet on the table.

"Would you be so kind as to explain to me the meaning of that, Mr. Potter?" she said in a fake and rather sweet singsong voice that reminded him instantly of Dolores Umbridge.

Harry stared at paper. On the front page was the article Hermione had read. Next to it was a large picture of Harry. The Harry in the picture was grinning enchantingly and winked at the real Harry when he looked down at him. He had no shirt on.

"Oh," Harry croaked. "I had forgotten that the article came out today."

He quickly read the article and looked back up at Hermione. Not only did he see the obvious anger in her face, but the deep hurt that was masked behind it.

"Not seriously seeing anyone special right now?" she questioned, fighting back tears and using harsher tone than before.

"Hermione, I-" Harry began, but was cut short.

"Not seriously seeing anyone special right now?!" she repeated, this time a bit louder and with more force. "We're best friends, and extremely close, but nothing more? Well, that is certainly news to me Potter!"

"Hermione, you-" he tried again as he stood up to meet her gaze, but failed.

"5 months Harry!" she barreled on. "We have been dating for 5 months! You would think that you would remember you have a girlfriend by now" she finished, crossing her arms in front of her chest as tears escaped her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

"Hermione! You're working yourself into a fit over nothing!" he interjected before she could continue her ramblings. "I never told Cho any of that. She didn't even have the courtesy to interview me herself for that matter."

"You…didn't?" Hermione said quietly. "She…didn't?"

"No. And I never posed for that picture, obviously." Harry added as he glanced at the photograph again, which was now flexing.

Hermione dropped her bag and quietly sank into the nearest chair and buried her face in her hands. The tears were still falling. Any anger Harry had inside of him evaporated at the sight of her. He absolutely hated seeing Hermione cry. He loved her too much to see her in any pain. He quickly crossed to the other side of the table and knelt down next to her.

"Hey, 'Mione," he said gently, "it's alright. I'm not mad or anything."
"I'm so sorry Harry," she gasped through her tears. "I don't know what came over me. I just…I read that…and got so upset…I know better than to listen to what the papers say about you. Especially something written by Cho."

Cho Chang and Harry had never reconciled since their squabble in his 5th year. She has always seemed to have it in for him since.

As her last tear trickled down her cheek, Harry wiped it away with his thumb.

"I love you Hermione. You know that, right?" he whispered in her ear is her pulled her into a soft embrace.

"Yes Harry," she said with a slight giggle. "I love you too. More than you will ever know."

With that said, Hermione pulled Harry into a sweet yet deep kiss that left each of them a little breathless. After they had pulled apart, Harry remembered something in Cho's article that had perplexed him.

"Hey, what was that bit in the article about 'Mr. Potter celebrating his 21st birthday with friends and family with a small party, in his honor of course'" Harry quoted in a nasally voice, and Hermione guessed was his impersonation of Cho Chang.

"Oh, that's another reason I was so upset!" Hermione exclaimed. "The Weasley's and I have been planning a surprise birthday party for you at The Burrow for months now. I haven't the slightest idea how she could have got that information. Anyway, now that you know, I guess we'll have to cancel" she finished cheekily, a smile playing at her lips.

"What! That's not fair!" Harry roared as he swept her off the chair and twirled her around the room. "You would dare have me miss out on all the fun?"

"Well, the fun, Mr. Potter, begins in a few hours" she replied with her arms around his neck. "Which reminds me, I should have been home over half and hour ago. Put me down sir"

"Why should I?"

"Well, unless you want me to look like this for your party tonight, I suggest you do as I say." Hermione teased.

"You look beautiful right now" He answered truthfully.

"Thank you Harry, but really, I should be going."

"Alright." He said sullenly as he carefully lowered her to the ground. "So what time is my party?"

"Ron will be here to escort you to The Burrow at 6." Hermione replied as she scooped up her work bag from the floor and fixed her hair which was hanging loosely in a ponytail.

She turned around and gave Harry a peck on the cheek as she walked over to the fireplace to Floo home. She was too tired to Apparate.

"Oh, Hermione wait. I almost forgot something" Harry called, walking up behind her.

When she turned around, he quickly pulled her into an intense kiss that made her drop her bag and put her arms around his neck as he placed his own around her waist.

"You prat" Hermione whispered minutes later after they had parted while playfully punching him on the shoulder. She then turned around, grabbed a handful of powder, and Flooed home to get ready for Harry's not-really-a-surprise-thanks-to-Cho party. And with an amazing flash of green flames, Harry was left standing alone in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place.

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Authors Note: Please forgive us for forgetting to introduce ourselves before. I am co-writing this story with my friend Gryffindorgirl. It’s our first time, so be gentle! While a large portion of the story is already written, we still have to write (er…actually…figure out) the last few chapters. Being that it is our first story, the first few chapters are quite a bit shorter than we are writing nowadays. To make up for that, I’ll be posting a new chapter every 3 days or so.

By the way, some reviewers were wondering how Harry knew the article about him was coming out if Cho didn’t interview him. What we meant was that Cho didn’t interview him herself; her low-level assistant did.

And I realize now that a lot of you don’t like Cho! Tsk tsk tsk. Well…if you don’t like her now, you’ll really hate her in a few chapters. (Muah-ha-ha!)

One more thing! (I promise!) Can you believe that Prisoner of Azkaban comes out in less than 2 weeks?! I am so excited! (Padfoot LIVES!)

Happy reading!

Disclaimer: We don’t own, so please don’t sue. ;o)

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One chance a clean break
Much more than I can take
Lies cast shadows
Dark things nobody knows
You've lost, who's won
My revenge has just begun
I've just begun
And I'm coming home
I'm coming home
I've just begun
My revenge has just begun

-Good Riddance, “Heresy, Hypocrisy, and Revenge”

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Bellatrix Black Lestrange was part of a dying breed. One of the few Death Eaters who survived Voldemort's illustrious defeat, she now lay in wait among some tall bushes outside a large apartment complex, like a black widow lurking amid her web, waiting for her next unsuspecting victim. This was her last chance to avenge her Master's death. By accomplishing what he never managed to achieve in life, she would finally complete her Dark Lord’s noble work. And in Bellatrix’s twisted mind, that meant definite big plans for Mr. Harry Potter. Not only would she finally kill the Boy-Who-Lived, but she intended to make him and the people he loved most suffer tremendously first.

As the thoughts of the mischievous plot she had concocted enveloped her thoughts, Bellatrix couldn't hold back the smug smirk that materialized on her face, now long stripped of its once healthy glow and beautiful features from the years of anguish in Azkaban. She was going to make the two people little bitty baby Potter treasured the most in the entire world endure the very same pain that she herself had felt when he had taken her reason for living only five months ago. But the loud snapping of a twig and a stifled rustle near her forced Bellatrix to momentarily divert her attention to the bushes directly across from her. Her fellow Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov, was hiding in a rose bush a few feet behind her, so it couldn’t have been him that made the commotion. Fearing that they had both somehow been discovered, Bellatrix and raised her wand in an attempt of resistance. But as she squinted her shadowed hazel eyes in the dying sun’s rays, instead of a person greeting her gaze, she saw only a small pair of twinkling maple tinted ones peeping back at her.

“Lumos!” Bellatrix whispered hoarsely as her curiosity got the best of her as she twisted her neck for a better view. But the creature that had been gazing so idly at her had already darted away. Bellatrix was only able to catch a glimmer of what must have been the beast’s tail, which was colored such a magnificent crimson red with a blotch of snow-white at its tip that she almost would have called it beautiful. That is, if her warped mind had still functioned properly.

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"Mental that one, I'm telling you" Ron Weasley muttered softly to himself, referring of course to Hurricane Hermione as he emerged from12 Grimmauld Place and bounded down its front steps. With a quick look at the fast setting sun, he disappeared with a loud crack which echoed through the unusual chilly summer twilight.

Ron soon appeared on the steps leading to his apartment house. As he reached for his keys he glanced at his watch, which read nearly a quarter past five.

"Ah…bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath. “Hermione will murder me if I’m late to pick up Harry."

“Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, you know” an acidic voice whispered coolly behind him.

Ron hastily whipped around, wand at the ready, but saw nothing. A slight ruffling in the bushes next to him made him lash to his right, but saw only a flash of something fuzzy with a dashing scarlet hue.

“Aww…is the itty-bitty Weasel fwightened?” the eerily familiar voice called again, causing Ron to turn himself around in a complete circle searching for it.

‘Where is that voice coming from?’ he pondered quietly in his head. ‘Was it someone in an Invisibility Cloak?’

“Now!” Bellatrix Lestrange cackled as she slithered from her hiding place.

Instantly, a new rough voice shouted “Stupefy!”

“Protego!” Ron roared instinctively, now eyeing Antonin Dolohov squatting rather humorously amid a pink rose bush. But Ron knew this was no laughing matter.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix bellowed, but Ron had already flung himself to the ground to avoid being struck with the unforgivable curse.

“Petrificus Totalus!” he hurled back to Bellatrix, which she avoided as well. But as he jumped to his feet to unleash another spell on her, Dolohov hurled himself out of the bushes and upon Ron, forcing them both painfully on the hard concrete steps.

“I’ll take that” Bellatrix barked as she managed to pull Ron’s wand from his struggling yet tightly gripped hand and pocketed it in her cloak as he thrashed around in the invisible ropes that sprung up around him moments ago.

“Bellatrix Lestrange. You filthy, blood-sucking, whore.” Ron spat boldly. He wasn’t a Gryffindor for nothing.

“Aaaah…sticks and stones, Weasel.” She replied smoothly, an eager smirk materializing on her once attractive visage. “You won’t be nearly as brave when I am through with you and your impertinent friends.”

“How thick are you?!” he shouted, now on his knees and still struggling with the ropes. “Voldy is already dead! It’s ove-” but he was interrupted by a loud smack. It was the sound of Bellatrix’s palm connecting with his face.

“You dare address the Dark Lord so insolently! You! You shameful, worthless, brainless blood-traitor!” she shrieked, raising her hand again and striking him once more, this time with her fist. Seconds later, a tiny dapple of blood appeared at the side of Ron’s mouth and began to trickle feverishly down to his chin. Regaining her composure at the sight of the blood, she leaned in close to him.

“Death is only the beginning for the Dark Lord.” She drawled menacingly in his ear. The seriousness of her tone sent a shiver down Ron’s spine. “I have big plans for your great and valiant hero, Weasley, and I daresay that you are the unlikely key to my entire plot.”

“I won’t be a pawn in your fucking game, Bella” Ron shot back, quieter than before, but still extremely forceful and defiant.

Bellatrix raised her hand, as if to strike him again, but seemed to think better of it and lowered it slowly. The eager smile she wore before appeared on her twisted face for the second time as she exchanged glances with Dolohov.

“Oh, that is the best part Weasel” she said softly, drawing closer to him. “You won’t realize what you are doing to your friends until it is too late. Then ickle little Ronnikins will feel just so horrible.” She finished in an awful mock-baby voice that made Ron recoil in his bindings. Her face was much too close to Ron’s now, and he flinched as she touched the dribble of blood that had cascaded all the way down to his shirt. He recoiled once more as she seductively licked the flowing blood, starting at his neck and moving up. When she was done, she licked her lips enticingly and stood up.

“You bitch” he spat repulsively.

“Now, for the highlight of the evening” she drawled on, ignoring his comment. She produced her wand and raised it, shouting “Imperio!”

Ron’s body jerked as the curse hit him, his eyes closing as he fought to keep Bellatrix from controlling his mind. Ron was a very powerful wizard in his own right, but the craving for revenge and malice behind Bellatrix’s curse was too much for him. His body went momentarily lip, forcing Dolohov to hold him up. After a few second, Ron’s head snapped up, eyes blank and staring straight ahead, ready and waiting for instructions.

Bellatrix stepped back, eyes twinkling with desire as she circled Ron, searching him up and down, inspecting him like a military sergeant would his cadets. Her lips parted in a smirk of triumph as released a deafening cackle that would have stricken fear in any of its listeners.

"State your name" She whispered in his ear.

"Ronald Weasley." He answered in a stony and monotonous voice.

"Who is your master?" she persisted.

"Bellatrix Lestrange commands me, but my master is the Dark Lord, who even in death still prevails."

Bellatrix let out another screech of glee.

“Nice…very nice…” she commented. “…now… sing me a song.”

"Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring, that’s why Slytherins all sing; Weasley is our King…”

The words escaped his lips before he could try to hold them back; Bellatrix’s grip on Ron’s mind was a firm one. The two Death Eaters erupted in laughter.

“Enough of this foolishness” Bellatrix muttered after their laughter had died. “We need to program his mind before we send him off, and it’s almost time for him to leave to go get Potter.”

Dolohov released Ron’s bindings to take him inside his own flat.

“Keep a firm grasp on him” Bellatrix ordered. “Victims of the Imperius Curse who actually manage to fight it off do so within the first few minutes after its execution, and we cannot risk his escape.”

“Yes, Bellatrix” Dolohov answered as he grasped Ron’s shoulders and steered him through the doorway.

As she turned over her shoulder to enter the apartment, Bellatrix glanced once more at the setting sun, which had turned the skies surrounding it an unnatural blood-red.

“How appropriate” she murmured to herself as she entered Ron’s home, her long cloak swishing behind her.

Authors Note: This chapter is so short that we’re posting the next one immediately after it! And thanks to everyone who has reviewed!

Disclaimer: We don’t own Harry Potter or his world. We just live in it.

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There's a calm surrender to the rush of day
When the heat of a rolling wind can be turned away
An enchanted moment, and it sees me through
It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you

And can you feel the love tonight
It is where we are
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer
That we got this far
And can you feel the love tonight
How it's laid to rest
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds
Believe the very best

Elton John, “Can You Feel The Love Tonight”

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Crookshanks the cat lay peacefully dozing in front of his master’s large ruby-brick fireplace. The soft flames cast a gentle wave of warmth around his ginger colored fur as he smoothly stirred and stretched lazily atop the fine golden throw-rug Mrs. Weasley had given Hermione last year for Christmas, which was emblazed with the glorious burgundy Gryffindor lion in its center.

A large burst of jade colored flames from the fireplace disturbed the tranquil scene however, and a frazzled looking Hermione Granger toppled out of the blaze. Delighted at his owner’s arrival, Crookshanks happily rose from rug and purred his way around her ankles.

“Aww…hello my precious” she said sweetly as she tenderly scooped the great ball of auburn fur from the hardwood floor. Stroking his tender fur she suddenly remembered how late she was running.

“Sorry Crookshanks, I’m going to be late to Harry’s party if I don’t get a move on.” She said softly. After planting a quick kiss atop his fluffy head, she dashed to her bedroom to get ready. She approached her closet to pull out the outfit she had purchased for the occasion just last week. She carefully slipped into the white chiffon dress that had cost a small fortune and stepped into the view of her full-length mirror. She loved the dress, but the neckline worried her a bit. It fell lower than she was comfortable with, but she was consoled with the fact that it was partially covered by a brilliant platinum encrusted diamond necklace. It had been an extravagant gift from Harry on their 1st month anniversary. She smiled remembering that night…

“Oh Harry!” she squealed after opening the sapphire velvet case that enclosed the necklace. “It’s magnificent, but you shouldn’t have! This must have cost you so much!”

“But I wanted to make up all those years that I never acted on my true feelings for you. And as for the money, it was nothing compared to what I would have paid to see that gorgeous smile of yours” He responded earnestly as he removed the necklace from its box and placed it delicately around her neck. As he kissed her softly on her tender cheek, he felt Hermione’s tears of bliss trickle lightly down her face and onto his own lips.

“Oh, ‘Mione, don’t cry” Harry pleaded as he turned to face her. “You know it kills me when you do.”

“I’m sorry Harry, but you know what a big baby I am” she whimpered while wiping away her tears.

“You’re not a baby” he answered quietly. “You just have a big heart, which is one of the reasons why I love you Hermione Granger.”

But her only response was a muffled “Oh Harry”, as he swept her into a passionate kiss.

Hermione grinned once more, appreciating now how Harry always made her feel special and loved. Still smiling to herself as she glanced at the clock, it soon registered that she had spent way too much time at 12 Grimmauld Place with Harry and now only had 10 minutes remaining before she had to Apparate to The Burrow to help the Weasley’s prepare. Trying not to panic, she calmly yet swiftly finished dressing and primping herself for the evening in record time. With a quick good-bye to Crookshanks, who now lay sprawled between the pillows of her bed, she disappeared to The Burrow with a thunderous crack.

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Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created Harry Potter and Co.

Authors Note: The parts in italics are what Ron is saying in his head in response to whatever is happening to him.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created Harry Potter and Co.

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In your head...
In your head...
Zombie zombie zombie ei ei
What’s in your head...
In your head...
Zombie, zombie, zombie

ei, ei, ei , oh.....do,do,do…

The Cranberries, “Zombie”

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Ron Weasley was engaged in the battle of his life. Not physically of course, but mentally. He had been fighting with the voices inside his head for nearly 15 minutes now, although to him it seemed like 15 hours. After being ordered to quickly shower and change into suitable clothes for Harry’s birthday party, Ron emerged from his bedroom dressed in a simple yet tasteful pair of khaki pants and a silk black collared shirt. The shirt, a birthday gift from Ginny a few years ago, was the exact pigment of Harry’s unruly jet-black hair, which was the precise reason he rarely wore it, save for the few occasions he knew he would be meeting his dear sister.

“Excellent, my little zombie” Bellatrix said approvingly as Ron entered living room of his flat, trailed closely from behind by a surly looking Antonin Dolohov.

‘Excellent my ass you conniving bitch’ Ron retorted in vain inside his head.

“Everything prepared, My Lady?” Dolohov questioned Bellatrix as she raised herself off Ron’s navy blue couch and approached the pair.

“I have performed several charms and jinxes around the complex, but will not be satisfied until Rookwood arrives.” She replied dully, fingering her yew wand. “He is far more advanced in protection and concealment spells, and will make certain that the area is secure while we are here.”

“And when is he expected to arrive?”

“Why, as soon as our dear Mr. Weasley departs to meet Potter” she answered sweetly turning to Ron and pinching his cheek as if he were the most adorable thing on earth.

‘Oi! Hands off!’ he shouted in disgust.

But Ron’s body did not acknowledge Bellatrix’s icy touch. He simply continued to stare vaguely into the wall across from him, as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“Well, I’m afraid you are running a bit behind schedule Weasel, so I’ll make this quick” she said scathingly with a nod to Dolohov, who promptly turned and summoned two chairs from the kitchen.

“Sit” Bellatrix ordered Ron, to which complied with out as much as a blink as she moved the other chair directly across from him so that their knees met.

With a most Dumbledore-like twinkle appearing from the depths of her dark eyes, she began firing off commands at Ron, who would monotonously reply “Yes, My Lady” to each.

“Do you understand everything I have told you?” she asked him carefully minutes later after she was finished.

‘Oh yeah. I understood perfectly. Too bad I won’t be doing any of it!’

But it was the standard “Yes, My Lady” that escaped Ron’s lips.

“And you will obey every command I have told you tonight?”

‘No, my disgusting-brainless-nauseatingly-ugly-pathetic-excuse-for-a-being-’

“Yes, My Lady”

An unnatural grin crept upon Bellatrix’s gaunt face.

“Then you may leave to pick up Potter” she drawled, the grin still visible.

Blinking in acknowledgement he steadily rose from his chair and took the few strides to exit his home for he could not apparate with all the new charms that had been placed upon his flat. Once out the front door he quickly disappeared with a shrill crack.

Bellatrix turned to Dolohov and snickered “The plan is in motion.”

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“Hermione dear!” Molly Weasley greeted the brown eyed witch as she stepped through the threshold of The Burrow. “You look absolutely stunning!” she commented while quickly sweeping her into one of her trademark embraces. As Molly and Hermione broke away, the latter was quickly accosted by two identical looking lanky gentlemen with flaming red hair. The rascals then separated from each other, snuck around to Hermione, seized her by either arm, and escorted her to the backyard.

“Ahoy there lass! It’s about time ye joined us!” Fred in a very convincing buccaneer type voice, for the founders of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes were decked out head-to-toe in pirate accessories, including eye patches, pirate hooks, and even a very realistic looking parrot.

“Back off ye scoundrels.” Hermione said eyeing their costumes and playing along.

“Us! Scoundrels?” George retorted in mock outrage. “How dare ye speak of us in that manner! We are but innocent, harmless scavengers searching the seven seas for our lost booty.”

“Booty?” Hermione repeated with a snigger.

“Treasure, ye lily-livered-land lover!” the boys both echoed in unison.

“Gee Hermy; get your mind out of the gutter!” Fred teased breaking character.

“Or at least wait till Harry gets here” George added mischievously.

“Oh, bugger off you two!” she snapped back jestingly while plucking Fred and George’s eye patches and releasing them a few inches from their face.

“Ouch! Hermione!” the pair cried in pain as the patches snapped back with force into their eyes.

“Speaking of Harry, I want both of you dressed properly before he arrives” She said smugly. “Oh, and if you ever call me Hermy again, you’ll wake up the next morning to find those hooks in your arse.” She added with a devilish grin.

“Eye-eye, Captian!” they responded and quickly tipped their feathered hats in salute.

“May I inquire as to why you gentlemen are dressed so-” She paused “festively?”

“Testing out our latest prototypes for the joke shop” Fred replied matter-of-factly.

“Yeah” George interjected “because right now those great prats at Diagon Alley won’t let us sell these fine quality commodities.”

“What’s the problem?” Hermione questioned.

“They tell us the danger rating is too high, on account of some minor explosions from the wooden peg legs.”

“Oh really” she asked incredulously, almost afraid to ask her next question. “And the rating would be?”

“Arrrrrrrrrgh!” the brothers roared together while raising their hooks victoriously into the air and charging themselves toward Hermione.

“Don’t you dare!” she shrieked at them as she scrambled back into the house.

“Fred! George! You two let Hermione be!” Molly scolded the Twins as they gave chase through the meticulously polished Burrow.

“This is going to be a night to remember” Hermione mumbled to herself as she dashed away from Forge and Gred.

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Authors Note: Like before, I will post the next chapter immediately after this one. By the way, I can’t help but gloat to every HP fan: I saw a special screening of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban last Monday (the 24) at Mann’s 6 Chinese Theatre in Hollywood. It was most definitely the best movie in the series yet! I love Alfonso Cuaron! (I’m Mexican by the way, so yeah!) Since I can’t help by blab about it, I’d be more than happy to answer anyone’s questions about the movie. Just e-mail me at Crazimicki1@cs.com. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created Harry Potter and Co.

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Get this party started on a Saturday night
Everybody's waitin' for me to arrive
Sendin' out the message to all of my friends
I can go for miles if you know what I mean
I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started
I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started

Pink, “Get The Party Started”

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“Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, knotgrass…” Augustus Rookwood murmured sliding his finger down a list of ingredients from Most Potent Potions.

“Do you have all the necessary components to complete the potion, Rookwood?” Bellatrix inquired as she entered the newly constructed basement of Ron’s apartment. She was looking rather bored and impatient, for she was anxious to carry on her plan.

“Nearly” he drawled in a callous tone.

“Oh…very good” scoffed Bellatrix. “We cannot afford any failure, especially with something as simple as basic potion brewing”

“Actually, Bella” the pox-marked Rookwood retorted, “the Polyjuice Potion is quite complicated, and can prove fairly difficult for even the most capable wizards” he finished through clenched teeth.

“Do not try to patronize me” she said softly while crossing the dungeon-like room in long strides, finally stopping once she was standing directly behind where he stood tending to the potion. Nuzzling his ear for a moment, she whispered “My point, dear Augustus…is that…this potion…CAN-NOT-BE-BOTCHED!” Bellatrix shrieked with frustration. Rookwood gave an involuntary shutter at her outburst, apologized, and continued to stir the now simmering contents of the cauldron before him.

“Now,” she continued sweetly, ignoring his apology, “by the time I get back down here, I want the potion completed, minus the last ingredient of course. Is that understood?”

Rookwood grunted.

“Do I need to send Dolohov down to assist you?” she asked with annoyance, her dark eyes flashing dangerously.

His response was a vigorous shake of his head.

As she vanished up the stairs, the gangly Rookwood flipped irritably through the pages of Most Potent Potions, muttering incoherently under his breath. A few minutes later, he summoned two empty vials from a steel cabinet across the room. The Polyjuice Potion was complete.

“Can’t disappoint my fans, now can I” she eccentrically murmured to herself while applying tiers of color to the eyelids of her skeletal face.

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Harry and the Imperious-Cursed Ron arrived at The Burrow a quarter after six. Bellatrix had ordered Ron to ‘act natural’, and that’s definitely what Zombie Ron was doing. He was acting so much like normal Ron in fact it, was scary. He was even late picking Harry up from 12 Grimmauld Place, a very Ron-like-thing to do. And so Harry hadn’t noticed anything different about his best friend.

“We’re HERE!” Ron called out jovially as he and Harry approached the front steps of the Weasley home. “Just me and Harry…yup…just me and Harry…”

“Ron, why are you yelling mate?” Harry said aloud playing along. No one, minus Hermione, knew he was aware of the surprise party.

There was not one candle lit inside The Burrow, but as Harry and Ron walked through the front door, hundreds of floating little colored lights rapidly sprang to life all over the room. Harry squinted, adjusting the sudden brightness. Yet minutes passed, and nothing happened.

“Oi?! Where is everyone?” Ron suddenly blurted while scratching his head.

Harry cringed while muttering “Nice one, mate” and slapped him hard on the back. As Ron opened his mouth to retaliate, the little colored lights began to move. They both stood quietly, gawking open mouthed as the little lights began to unite and form the phrase ‘Happy Birthday Harry!’ in large, intricate lettering.

“Surprise!!!” dozens of voices boomed enthusiastically as a crowd of Harry’s closest friends suddenly appeared, dressed to the nines, below the floating marquee.

Ron jumped a bit and grabbed Harry’s arm, but Harry continued to stare open-mouthed at the scene before him.

“Just breathe” a familiar voice whispered behind him, and he turned, unprepared for the sight that would greet him when he did.

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“Black always was my color” Bellatrix said dreamily as she gazed into her reflection in Ron’s bathroom mirror. In her youth, she had been astoundingly attractive and beautiful, always gathering hordes of hopeful beaus wherever she went. But time became her enemy as she spent years withering away in prison, her mind being melded and tortured from the power hungry Dementors. Truth be told though, she wasn’t exactly ugly now. On the contrary, she was still rather pretty. It was the blackness of her heart, the thirst for vengeance in her soul that made children cry, women shriek, and grown men tremble when she drew near.

She smiled eccentrically while running her palms over the silky material of the new black dress she wore. She had managed to steal it from a local muggle department store earlier in the day, and had to admit she looked rather good in it, even if grubby muggles had made it. It was a very stylish number, with a front neckline that fell treacherously low and revealed a fair amount of cleavage. The hem of the dress was a bit long for Bellatrix’s liking, but quickly fixed that with a wave of her wand. It now had a lengthy slit that rose nearly all the way up her thigh.

“Muah!” she sounded as she kissed the mirror after applying some dark-red lipstick to her pale lips. “We are going to have so much fun tonight!” she eagerly screeched to her reflection while jumping up and down. “Sooo much fun!” she repeated.

“That little bitty baby Potter will finally get a hint of what real pain is like” she continued madly. “And that Mudblood bitch he loves as well. But tonight will be just a taste-”

A shrill knock at the door interrupted her conversation.

“What is it?” she growled, tearing her eyes away from the looking-glass to glance at the bathroom door.

“The potion is complete Bellatrix, and all preparations are ready” replied the hoarse voice of Antonin Dolohov.

“Very well. I will be down shortly!” she responded in a terrible sounding sing-song voice. Turing back to her likeness, she sighed contently. “Just a taste-a taste of what is to come.”

A mad smile materialized on Bellatrix Lestrange’s colorless face as the witch threw her head back in an ear-splitting cackle of glee.

A few feet below ground, Augustus Rookwood and Antonin Dolohov unwillingly shuddered at the woman’s unnatural laughter.

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Harry blinked in astonishment. He couldn’t think of words to say that would accurately describe the way Hermione looked tonight. She was so astoundingly beautiful that he just continued to stare at her, mouth still agape as it had been minutes before.

“Careful mate, I know someone who drowned that way!” Ron laughed as he pushed Harry’s jaw up, forcing his mouth to finally close. Hermione simply beamed at him.

Harry was finally snapped back to reality as the entire room began to clamor toward him, the women excitedly (or in Molly’s case tearfully) hugging him, while the guys mannishly shook hands with him and slapped him on the back. When he turned to Hermione again, she was gone.

‘She always manages to disappear right in front of me’ Harry remarked in his head.

Being the chivalrous Gryffindor that he was, Harry politely greeted all his guests, while all he really wanted to do was find Hermione and…well…he didn’t know what he wanted to do with her just yet. He just knew he had to find her...to thank her for the party…to tell her how amazing she looked…to just be with her. He cranked his neck to search for her as he peered over the crowded room, which had finally began to dissipate as Arthur and Molly led everyone into the backyard, where the food would be served and dancing would commence.

“Happy Birthday” the familiar voice whispered softly in his ear again as its owner covered his eyes with their hands.

“Hey!” Harry said turning around to face her, his make-girls-weak-at-the-knees smile appearing on his handsome face as she uncovered his eyes.

“Surprised you, huh?” Hermione asked, her honey-colored eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Yeah” he replied sheepishly. “Those lights were brilliant. How did you guys do that?”

“How can someone with glasses so thick still be so blind?!” she questioned him incredulously, arms crossed in front of her.

“Hey-!”

“They were fairies, Harry! Honestly!”

“Fairies?” he repeated, a bit impressed. “Well, what about how everyone just appeared ou-?”

“Disillusionment Charm,” Hermione replied with a grin “Compliments of yours truly.”

He stared at her.

“What is it?” she asked in a stricken voice. “You don’t like it?”

“You must be the thick one if you think I don’t like all of this” he said cheekily. “I love it, Hermione.” He added seriously. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome Harry. But the Weasleys did a lot more than-”

Hermione never got to finish as Harry, after being extremely patient for the past hour, finally lost it and drew her into his arms and into a deep kiss. The world around them disappeared as they kissed, slowly at first but growing more passionate as each moment passed. Harry wasn’t even aware of being in The Burrow, let alone his own birthday party, until he heard a snigger from somewhere in the room and the distinct voice of either Fred or George Weasley.

“Oi! Harry?! Hermione?!” one twin asked.

“Don’t worry” the other answered when the couple ignored them. “They’ll fancy a bit of oxygen soon.”

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Authors Note: Authors Note: We haven’t been getting many reviews. If you could please let us know what you all think of our (first) story, we would REALLY appreciate it. Thanks, and once again, happy reading!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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If this is the calm before the storm
I fear the end is near
so I look behind the words you say
and try to find
your way out of here
what will be
your way out of here
what will be

your way out of here

-Soraya , “Calm Before The Storm”

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Harry’s surprise party was in full swing. Hermione and the Weasley’s had managed to transform the Burrow’s gnome infested yard into a elegant party site, fit for the Minister of Magic himself, who incidentally was engaged at the moment in an waltz with his wife Molly on the glittering white dance floor. Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore were next to them, McGonagall’s lips bending into an upward curve that any one of her former students would confess was as close as a smile they had ever seen on the Deputy Headmistress as Dumbledore lowered her into an extravagant dip. In the center of the shimmering dance floor were Fred (minus the pirate costume) and his girlfriend, former Gryffindor Chaser and Captain Angelina Johnson. The pair were dancing so wildly, with arms flailing and legs kicking all over, that poor Percy was hit straight in the arse by one of Fred’s straggling appendages while dancing with his newlywed wife Penelope Clearwater.

“Oops! Sorry there Perce!” Fred apologized breathlessly as Percy shot him a horror-struck glance.

On the other side of the yard, Harry and Hermione seemed to be glued at the hip. Since their passionate (and very public) kiss, neither had left the other’s side. The couple was currently engaged in an animated conversation with old schoolmates Parvati Patil, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Lavender Brown.

“Five months already, eh?” Seamus responded when Hermione told them how long she and Harry had been together.

“Yeah, seems like a lot longer though” Harry commented, absentmindedly stretching his neck to peek at the couples on the dance floor.

“What exactly are you implying, Mr. Potter?” Hermione questioned him with wry smile as she moved to playfully pinch his arm.

“No! No!” Harry cried maneuvering his way around her grasp while the on looking Gryffindors erupted into laughter. “I meant…uh… that we’ve know one another for so long, it seems that we’ve been dating-”

“Give it up, Harry” Lavender cut in, now clutching her ribs from laughter. “You’re fighting a losing battle.”

“You’re right,” Harry scoffed, “but I do intend to win the war.”

Hermione, who had attempted to keep a stony look upon her face to give off the effect that she was upset, burst into a fit of mad giggles at Harry’s last comment.

“Oh, do I amuse you Miss Granger?” He retorted, pulling her close and into a soft yet intense kiss that made Parvati and Lavender squeal “Aww! How sweet!”

Dean and Seamus simply exchanged meaningful glances and rolled their eyes, as if to say “Geeze! How many times do they have to snog a day?!”

Harry, completely ignoring the girl’s comments, slowly broke the kiss and pulled Hermione toward the dance floor.

“Harry?! What do you think you are doing?” she exclaimed in panicky voice.

“They invented the greatest thing, Hermione. It’s called dancing. You should really try it.”

“Oh, no Harry!” she cried, trying to release his grip on her arm.

“Come on ‘Mione. For me?” he asked in a pleading voice, and then gave her the best sad puppy-dog face he could muster and stared at her intently for several seconds.

“You’re lucky it’s your bloody birthday” Hermione mumbled defeated but with a grin still visible as she finally allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.

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The crescent moon was shining brightly amid the deep night sky as Bellatrix Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov Apparated into the woods surrounding the bustling Weasley home a half hour past seven. She re-adjusted the straps of her halter-top dress while silently retrieving the two slim vials that were nestled in her bra. Handing one to Dolohov, she uncorked the other and placed three long black strands of hair from a muggle zip-lock baggie into the potion. It instantly began to fizzle, soon bubbling into a murky mid-night blue color.

Turing to Dolohov, Bellatrix whispered fiercely “Do not transform until I give you the signal, and only then drink the potion.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“It is imperative that you stick to the plan. Do you understand?” she sneered.

“Yes, My Lady. I will only have one hour, so I must be quick yet efficient.”

A twisted smile materialized on her sour face. “Correct, Dolohov. And stay quiet while you wait for the signal. We don’t want to attract any attention.” He nodded in obedience.

Bellatrix stared into the simmering vial in clutched in her hand. “Bottoms up!” she said gleefully as she gulped it down in one fearless shot. Suddenly, the vial slipped through her slim fingers, scratching against her long nails as it fell from her grasp and onto the moist dirt floor. Her pale face grimaced as her painted ruby-red lips contorted in agony. Panting, she clutched her stomach with one hand while digging her claws into Dolohov’s shoulder. She felt the silky dress tighten around her breasts and hips, her gaunt and face fill with youth, and her pasty skin take on a darker, healthy hue. When the transformation was complete, she released her piercing grip on Dolohov’s shoulder and stood up straight, aligning her arched back. She turned to Dolohov and gave a quick snigger of triumph. Running her new slightly shorter fingers through her now sleek and shiny raven hair, Bellatrix emerged from the dark wilderness. Walking with poise toward the front door of the Burrow, she stifled the cackle that was threatening to pass from her new, now plump lips.

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“Where’s Ginny?” Harry asked his girlfriend as they danced to a fast Muggle song that had made Hermione squeal ‘Oooh! I absolutely love this song’ when it had started.

“Working on a big case” she shouted over the music while swaying her hips to the beat. Ginny was an Auror for the Ministry. Even though she was only 20, she had managed to fly through her training faster than anyone had ever before, and was now one of the Ministry’s top agents. “She sends her love though!”

The fast song suddenly ended, and a new slow one began.

“Oooh! I absolutely love this song!” Hermione shrieked jumping up and down while Harry placed his hands on her waist.

“I have a sneaking suspicion you love every song” Harry teased. But Hermione didn’t respond to his taunt. She wasn’t even listening to him. She was instead staring fixedly at something over Harry’s shoulder. He whirled around to see what she was looking at.

“I didn’t know you invited Cho” Harry asked her quizzically.

“I did not invite…her” Hermione spat, anger flashing in her eyes.

“Hey, don’t get upset love” he said gently, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“I’m not! I’m still just so mad about what she wrote about you…about us! How dare she-”

“Did I mention how utterly stunning you are tonight?” Harry interjected.

“Don’t try to cha-“

“Well, you look absolutely gorgeous. I love this dress by the way” he said fingering the white beaded strap of her gown. He twirled her so that they were dancing cheek-to-cheek. “Especially the back…err…lack there of” he whispered devilishly in her ear. While Hermione was hesitant at showing too much skin at her neckline, she had no problem revealing her bare back. And the dress did just that, plunging dangerously down her spine, stopping only inches above her tailbone.

Hermione grinned, defeated yet again. Harry obviously did not want to talk about Cho Chang, and she would not spoil his so far perfect night by rambling on and on about the former Ravenclaw Seeker.

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Author’s Note: Enjoy!

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My inspiration has run dry
That's what's going on, nothings right, I'm torn

I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel
I'm cold and I am shamed lying on the floor
Illusion never changed into something real
I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn
I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel
I'm cold and I'm ashamed bound and broken on the floor
You're a little late, I'm already torn.

-Natalie Imbruglia, “Torn”

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As the last notes of the song faded into a new, faster beat, Hermione felt a gentle tap on her bare shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ron said to the couple “but Mum wants your help in the kitchen, ‘Mione.”

Hermione glanced at the pouty expression on her boyfriend’s face.

“Don’t worry Potter” she laughed. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips and moved to pull away, but Harry drew her back into his arms like a yo-yo and into a sweet kiss that lingered long enough for Ron to emit a loud, impatient sigh.

“For the love of Merlin, Ron. You’d think you would be used to it by now!” Hermione remarked turning toward the house and walking off to help Molly.

“Great turnout, huh?” Ron commented, turning his attention to Harry. But Harry wasn’t looking at Ron all. All he could see was Hermione walking away.

“Harry? Harrry?! HARRY?!”

“Oh” Harry said snapping back to reality. “Yeah Ron?”

Laughing, Ron managed to get out “You got it bad mate. I think you have no idea how deep you’re in.”

“Oh I know exactly how deep I’m in, and I love it” Harry said thinking about Hermione. The friends began drifting from the party while their conversation continued.

“I can’t believe I waited so long to be with her” he continued as they reached the mossy shores of the small lake a few yards from the Burrow.

“You’re telling me. Everyone knew you guys would end up together”

“Really?” Harry asked amusingly.

“Oh yeah. Fred and George even starting taking bets to see how long it would be before you guys got together right around the summer after 5th year.”

Harry laughed. An awkward silence ensued as the pair stared transfixedly at the dancing reflections of the stars on the lake.

“Something on your mind mate?” Harry questioned a few moments later.

Ron promptly snapped his head from the water. “No. Course not.”

Pause.

“I think I’ll go check on mum and Hermione ” he said suddenly turning from the gleaming lake.

“I’ll come with you” Harry replied following behind him.

“No!” he shouted whirling around to face his friend.

Harry shot him a startled look.

“It’s just that…well…”

“Well what?” Harry pressed.

“I’m not supposed to tell you…” Ron said slowly, a hint of perspiration appearing on his forehead. “Just…just wait here for me.”

“Why?” Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

“You just can’t go into the house right now. They told me to keep you out-of-site.”

“Is this another surprise?” Harry inquired folding his arms across his chest.

“Well…it’ll definitely be a surprise…” Ron replied slowly as he turned once again back toward the party. “Just stay here mate…you’ll see why in a few minutes. Oh, and if mum asks, you never heard a peep put of me, got it?”

“Won’t breathe a word” Harry laughed as he watched his best friend make his way to the house. Alone once again Harry’s mind began to wander toward Hermione. Staring out into the hypnotizing lake once more, his right hand subconsciously strayed into the pocket of his black slacks and began fiddling with a small velvety box. His stomach fluttered nervously as if it were filled with wild doxies. Harry thought the night so far had been picture perfect, but if fate was on his side, it would turn out to be much more.

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“You wanted to see me Molly?” Hermione asked bounding up behind the flaming-red haired witch wearing lacy deep purple dress robes who was busily perched over something large and white.

“Oh no, I’m fine dear. Just putting the finishing touches on Harry’s birthday cake” she replied, still hunched over.

“Oh. Are you sure?” Hermione said a bit taken aback. “Ron told me-”

“Nonsense. You go back into the yard and dance up a storm with that boyfriend of yours. It is his birthday, of course.”

“But Molly, I insist-”

“You are a guest dear. Besides, it’s already done” she finished slyly straitening up and proudly gesturing toward the stunning four tear white and red cake covered with 21 yellow candles behind her.

“Molly! You’ve outdone yourself!” Hermione exclaimed staring at the delicious looking creation.

“Thank you dear. Now how about you go find Harry while I levitate this out to the yard?”

“Sure” Hermione answered giving Molly a smile and stepping out of the kitchen only to run smack into a worried looking Ron in the living room.

“You alright?” she questioned him, her honey eyes filled with concern.

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Antonin Dolohov peered silently behind a thick tree as he waited apprehensively for Bellatrix’s sign. It had been nearly 15 minutes since she had transformed with the Polyjuice Potion. He gazed for the 12th time at the great crescent moon towering menacingly above him as his thoughts wandered to what was to occur in less than a half hour.

Two lovers deceived.

Then ripped apart.

And later…countless lives ruined forever.

But they deserve it, he thought. They all definitely deserve it.

A soft rustle of foliage nearby forced Dolohov back to reality. He turned his head in the direction of the disturbance, but saw nothing. A sudden burning sensation in his left forearm forced the incident from his mind. It was the sign. Uncorking a thin vial from inside his cloak, he quickly placed a handful of short black hairs into the thick potion, causing it to bubble and come alive. The muddy grey solution crackled softly as it turned into a dark burgundy mixture. While waiting for the potion to settle, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled eerily and his eyes darted around suspiciously in the dark.

Someone was watching.

It only took his hawk-like eyes a few seconds to discover who was surveying him. It was a rather small pair of maple- tinted eyes a few feet away. Too small, in fact, to be human he thought. The creature, realizing its concealment had been compromised, bounded forward with lightning fast speed. The great crimson fox adorned with snow-white growled threateningly at the Death Eater as it bared its tiny but very dangerous looking teeth.

“Get outta here!” he gruffed at it. But the beautiful creature simply continued to snarl at him, its captivating eyes never breaking contact with his own cold blue ones. Dolohov whipped his wand out with his free hand from his cloak while the foxes’ gaze suddenly shifted to the glass vial in his grasp.

“It’s as if it knows what I’m about to do” he murmured under his breath. Suddenly realizing that time was of the essence, Dolohov quickly barked the Stunning Curse at the animal. The fox quickly darted away, but not before giving the Death Eater one last piercing look with its haunting eyes.

“Damn beast” he muttered irritably as he raised the rim of the vial to his cracked lips.

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“Ron, I said are you alright?” Hermione repeated again, still staring up at the frazzled looking wizard in front of her.

“Yeah…course” he responded shakily, running his right hand through his thick red hair.

“Are you sure?” she asked shifting her weight and crossing her arms in front of her. “You look a bit peaky. Feeling ill?”

“Uh...no…” he stammered, then turned his head to the side and coughed forcibly into his hand. Regaining his composure, Ron continued halfheartedly “Harry asked me the same thing. I think you two have been spending too much time together...”

“Where is Harry? Still out on the dance floor?”

“No…no…I think he went into my old room upstairs”

“Your old bedroom? Why would he go in there?”

“Er…I think he said he was looking for someone…” he said slowly.

“Oh. I’ll go and fetch him then. It’s nearly time for the cake” she said turning to the wooden staircase. “Just wait outside Ron. We’ll be down in a minute.”

“Right” he said quietly, looking down at his shoes and walking into the yard with his hands in his pockets. Although he was sweating, the cool night air and whistling wind made him shiver. The real Ron, the one in Zombie Ron’s mind, was fighting the Imperious Curse with all his might. He kept crying out…kept trying to resist the curse. He had come close too, first with Harry at the lake…and now with Hermione in the Burrow. But he must continue to be strong, keep oppressing the annoyingly persistent Weasel in his mind Ron thought. At least until his task was complete. Then Bellatrix could perform the curse again, but more powerful than before.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As Hermione ascended the stairs and turned the corner into the hall, her ears picked up a faint muffled squeaking. After a few moments, she recognized the noise as the trademark sound of Ron’s old rickety bed. Intrigued, Hermione leaned her head against the bedroom door, staining to hear what was going on inside. Hearing hushed voices that she could not identify, she slowly turned the rusted brass doorknob and cautiously edged into the darkened room.

Hermione’s lips parted and a tiny ‘oh’ escaped them as she peered curiously at the sight before her.

It was Cho.

Cho and a darkened male figure, sprawled haphazardly on top of Ron’s orange Chudley Cannon’s comforter. She was laying against the wooden head board of the bed as she and the man kissed passionately, one of his hands running up her leg via the long slit of her black dress. The halter top-like straps of the dress where unfastened, revealing a lacey black brassiere. The man’s navy blue dress shirt and white undershirt were lying in a pile next to the bed. His black slacks were still on, but the belt had been thrown across the room in a fit of passion and was now lying directly in front of the door.

Embarrassed, Hermione quickly dropped her head, lowering her gaze, and moved to retract herself from the room. But a muffled sound from Cho stopped her.

“Mmm…Harry…”

Hermione’s head shot back up as the couple changed position on the bed. Cho’s back was now directly on the comforter, and the man shifted himself above her.

“Do it Harry…hurry…”

“Alright love…alright…”

Hermione froze. Her heart began beating hurriedly in her chest. She knew that voice. She knew that unruly head of hair. She knew that muscular bare back. Her eyes frantically scanned the room. She knew that blue shirt too. And she knew that belt on the floor.

Cho moved to hitch up the skirt of her dress and the man turned slightly, finally allowing Hermione to see his shadowed face.

And it was a face she knew. The face she knew better than anyone else’s in the world. The face she lived for, the face she would sacrifice herself for. The face she loved. It was Harry’s face.

“No” she whispered fiercely, her voice deadly faint. Hot tears sprang from her eyes as she turned her back from the scene and stumbled dizzily from the room, leaving the door ajar. Her chest was rising quickly as she struggled to breathe. Shallow, horse sobs broke from her as she continued to stagger drunkenly down the hall. A wave of nausea swept from her stomach and she raced dazedly down the staircase, stumbling down the last few and landing with a crash on her knees and palms. Traumatized from what she had just witnessed, she allowed herself to sink fully into the cold floor, emitting low heart-wrenching sobs that shook her tender body. The visions of Harry on Cho, touching her, kissing her, making love to her, kept on replaying themselves in front of her eyes. She shut them fiercely and firmly, hoping to rid her mind of the shock and betrayal. And pain. So much pain.

But the sounds of Harry and Cho continued to repeat over and over in her mind. Her breathless voice gasping ‘Do it Harry…hurry’ and his swift response of ‘Alright love…alright’ finally forced Hermione to rise from the cold floor and rush into the loo, where she promptly vomited in the toilet. When she was finished, she collapsed wearily onto the floor, hoping she would wake up and realize everything had been a dream. Just a horrible horrible dream.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You and me
We used to be together
Every day together always

I really feel
I'm losing my best friend
I can't believe
This could be the end

It looks as though you're letting go
And if it's real,
Well I don't want to know

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts

-No Doubt, “Don’t Speak”

* * * * *

Knock-knock.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?” a dreamy voice beckoned from the other side of the bathroom door.

Hermione’s eyelids fluttered open as she slipped back into consciousness. A weary moan escaped her lips as she labored to lift herself from off the rigid tile of the bathroom.

“Hermione?” the voice questioned. “The door’s locked, but I’m coming in there.”

Hermione overheard the distinct whisper of the Alohomora charm and raised her aching head slightly to see none other than Loony Luna Lovegood standing at the doorway of the small room.

“Hermione!” Luna breathed, clearly startled to see the past Gryffindor Prefect and Head Girl laying in shambles on the floor of the Weasley’s loo. “Is something the matter? Harry and Ronald have been searching for you for the past half hour.”

“They-ouch…” Hermione started but promptly ended as she once again attempted to rise from the floor with her arms but fell back onto her belly with a small thud.

“Oh my. Here-” Luna said calmly as she entered the bathroom. Extracting her wand from a concealed pocket in her dress, she casually kneeled down next to Hermione. “Ennervate.”

Hermione felt a small surge of energy pulsate through her crumpled body.

“Did that help?” Luna questioned.

“Uh…a bit, thanks,” Hermione said still rather weakly as she shakily rose from the ground with help from the Ravenclaw. She shut her eyes for a moment to regain her composure while Luna examined a brass sink fixture while humming absentmindedly.

A sudden explosion of the memories of the past hour surged inside Hermione. A pain greater than anything she had ever experienced before erupted inside of her, forcing her to grab the small counter behind her for support.

“Perhaps you should return to the yard,” Luna purred vaguely. “Like I said before, Harry and Ronald are simply beside themselves searching for you.”

“Harry?” Hermione choked.

“Ah-huh,” Luna replied snapping out of her trance and staring unblinkingly at Hermione. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I do have to use the toilet. That’s the entire reason why I stumbled across you.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Hermione answered dazedly, clutching the burning left side of her chest. “I’ll…I’ll just go now…”

“Are you sure you are all right?” Luna called after her in her unique dreamy tone.

“Never said I was…”

* * * * *

Hermione staggered out of the Burrow and into the yard, one hand gathering up the long chiffon material of her gown so she could walk faster, the other still positioned protectively over her aching heart. She was hoping to make a quick escape to her flat by means of Apparation. She knew couldn’t confront Harry just now. She was in too much physical and emotional pain to face him. Hermione assumed that if she so much looked at Harry, she would erupt into fresh tears and crumple onto the floor like a rag doll. Even with Luna’s spell, she felt as if a dozen Dementors had surrounded her, sucking away all her happy feelings and memories, leaving only a huge void that was at the moment filled with unbearable hurt and misery.

She struggled to quietly sneak over to the designated Apparation site that she and the Weasley’s had set-up for the party. Hermione was few yards away from the location when she felt a strong hand grab her right arm. She emitted a startled gasp whirled around.

“Hermione, where have you been?! Harry and I have been going bonkers looking for you!” Ron scolded still grasping her arm.

“Oh Ron!” she cried and threw her arms around the confused looking wizard.

“Uh, Hermione-breathe-oxygen-”

“Oh! Sorry sorry sorry!” she whispered releasing him.

“Wow…you look a fright.” Ron said poking at Hermione’s messy locks that minutes ago had been perfectly primped. “What happened to you?”

“I can’t explain it at the moment” she said in an undertone, intuitively placing her right hand over her chest. “I just have to leave.”

“Leave? But we were waiting for you to cut the cake!”

“I’m so sorry, but really, I have to get out of here” she said her voice cracking as she turned away from him.

“Ron! Did you find her?” Harry suddenly called from somewhere behind the pair. Hermione’s breaths became short and shallow as she frantically motioned to Ron to lie.

He raised an eyebrow quizzically and shot her a bewildered look before shouting “Yeah! She’s over here by the Apparation site!”

“Oh, no Ron!” she whispered, here eyes filling up with pools of water. “You don’t realize what you’ve-”

“Hermione!” Harry interjected appearing from behind Ron and joining the duo. “How do you always manage to disappear from right in front of me?” he questioned with a wry smile.

She couldn’t bear to look at him she needed to get away she thought while staring at the ground attempting to mask her tears.

“What is the matter love?” he inquired

“I just need to leave,” she managed to gasp commanding all her energy to make the simple comment.

“Leave? But we were just about to cut the cake. I want you to be there,” Harry pleaded.

“I can’t stay here a moment longer,” she mustered while the tears now began to flow freely down her cheeks. As she finished her sentence she turned away from the Apparation site desperate to get away from the man who had betrayed her.

Taking off with a sprint he caught her mid way through the dance floor by grabbing hold of her arm and spinning her body to face him. For the first time her saw her crying.

“What is it?” he asked sincerely. His look of affection tore her apart; she moved her hand to wipe the tears from eyes and accidentally brushed it against his shirt-and the memory of it lying haphazardly on the floor came flooding back into her mind. The hurt in her heart began to intensify unto a point which was unbearable-and she cracked.

“What is it? What is it?!” she said virtually near hysterics. “How can you honestly stand here, and at look me with your damn green eyes and act as if you have nothing to hide?!”

“Hermione-seriously what is the matter?” he said in a steady tone. “I have never seen you this way.” He moved his hand to hold her by her arm.

“Maybe you haven’t noticed because you were too busy FUCKING CHO!” Hermione shouted, pulling away from his grasp as if it was poison.

The high spirited music that was playing over the pristine white dance floor abruptly came to a screeching halt as the couples who were dancing suddenly froze in position and turned their attention to a shocked Harry and a fuming Hermione.

“I saw you! You and Cho in Ron’s old room! On top of the Chudley Cannons bed spread no less!” she angrily spat at him.

“What-?”

“What were you bloody thinking?!” she barreled on. The floodgates inside Hermione had been let open, and she wasn’t about to stop her emotions. “Cho Chang Harry?! How could you do this to me?! To us?! You-”

“Hermione! What on earth are you ranting about?!” Harry roared staring intently at her red rimed eyes that were spouting tears so profusely that it killed him not to be able to wipe them away.

“Stop pretending Harry!” she wailed angrily, flinging her hands in front of her in frustration. “I walked in on you and Cho!”

“Me and Cho?”

“Yes! You and Cho! About to have sex! On Ron’s bed!”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been with you all night!”

“What have you been doing this last hour?” she demanded.

“I was down at the lake with Ron!”

“No you weren’t! I saw him in the Burrow!”

“Ron, tell her!” Harry pleaded to his friend.

Ron was instantly horrified at this new revelation. A torn look came over his freckled face. “I…uh…actually…” Ron began reluctantly. “IdidleaveyoutogocheckonHermione” he mumbled quickly.

“I don’t believe this,” Harry growled while running his free hand through his already messy hair. “Hermione, do you really think I’d cheat on you? Do you think I’d throw away everything you and I have together for some fling?” He grabbed her hand and stared deeply in her eyes. With astrangely calm voice barely above a whisper, he asked “Do you think that I would intentionally hurt you, the person I have loved the most in my entire existence?”

Hermione’s lucid brown eyes searched his pleading emerald ones. She wanted to believe him. She really did- but she knew what she had seen.

“Harry…” she sighed, wiping away the last traces of tears from her cheeks. “I…I thought I did.”

And with that, Hermione removed the diamond encrusted necklace from her throat. It dejectedly slipped through her fingers and onto the cold marble dance floor. The entire crowd watched aghast as she gave Harry one last anguished look before walking to the Burrow and Flooing home.

* * * * *

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

Authors Note: We’re sorry to leave you all with such a big cliffy. We honestly didn’t think it would cause such a stir. Never again! Well…you don’t really expect us to promise that, do you?

Reviews are greatly appreciated, as always.

Disclaimer: We don’t own Harry Potter and Co. or anything you might recognize in this story.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Head is on
I want out
I'm alone and I'm an easy target
Metronome
I want out
I'm alone and I'm an easy target

-Foo Fighters, “Alone + Easy Target”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Groggy still from the spell that had been cast upon her, Hermione lay face-up on a cobble stone floor in a daze. Blinking unsteadily in the seemingly fathomless darkness that surrounded her, she slowly managed to sit up on the cold ground. Though her witching skills were accurately impeccable, she had to thoroughly search her brain to figure out what spell Ron had cast upon her. It had all happened so quickly that her memory would only allow her to recall the flicker of a vivid red light. A dull headache confirmed her only suspicion: stupefy.

The air, wherever she was, was chilly and stale. After what seemed like an hour, she began to explore her surroundings. She soon discovered she was enclosed in a type of cell or chamber, and a rather small one by the feel of it. Running her hands through the bars of her makeshift prison, Hermione began to do what she did best: think. She had been in these types of situations before, with the Order of course, and had always somehow managed an escape from the enemy. But this instance was gravely different: she had no idea who or what had kidnapped her, no idea where she was, and no idea what her captive wanted with her. The only comforting thought she could muster was that if they had wanted her dead she would have been Avada Kedavra’d already. And Ron was involved too of course, but was it really Ron? Hermione knew he would never willingly betray his friends or family like this. His friends were his family. He would rather die first. But then Harry betrayed you taunted a little voice in the back of Hermione’s head. Humph. Was it truly Ron? She couldn’t be sure.

And then, of course, there was Harry. He had deceived her, hurt her in the worst possible way. Surely he wouldn't come waltzing in to save her any time soon. But then again, with his renown hero complex, she couldn’t be sure of that either.

It seemed that she would indeed have to go through this ordeal on her own. There would most defiantly be no Harry or Ron to help her now.

“But how can I get myself out of this place when I can’t even see my own hand in front of me?”

* * * * *

Harry squinted at the bright morning sun as he walked up the flight of stairs that led to Hermione’s flat. He had decided it best last night to not follow Hermione home from the Burrow. Scratch that. Tonks, Remus, Hagrid, the Weasleys, and just about every other guest at Harry’s birthday party had decided it best that he not follow Hermione home.

After her heartbreaking departure from the Burrow, Harry had the full intention of perusing his girlfriend and setting things straight. Yet somehow, his friends had convinced him to leave her alone, at least for the night…

“You don’t want to go barging after her, Harry” Tonks had told him, “Believe me. Just-”

“But she thinks I cheated on her!” he had interjected, “I can’t let her continue to think that I-”

“Just one night Harry,” she had continued, “Just give her one night. Tomorrow morning you can Apparate right at her doorstep if you want. You’ve just got to give her some time to calm down. What’s the use of trying to talk to her when she’s just going to try to hex you to New Guinea?”

“New Guinea?”

“Well, it’s what I would do if my boyfriend cheat-”

“I didn’t cheat on her!” he had yelled exasperatedly for what must have been the 112th time that night.

“Relax, Harry!” she had urged. “I know you would never…”

And so he had given her one night- and it had almost killed him. Just imagining what Hermione must have been going through, truly thinking he had betrayed her and done those awful things with Cho, was enough to drive any wizard mad. Unknowingly, Harry had gotten the same amount of sleep the previous night as Hermione herself.

Truth be told, he was secretly hurt by Hermione's accusations. How could she ever consider the fact that he would toss aside all of the love he had for her to mess around with Cho? It was inconceivable to him.

And in all honesty, he was nervous. Wizard aside, Harry Potter was still a man, and as such, grasped only vague idea of the female psyche. Sure, he was always better with an emotional Hermione than Ron, but that hardly seemed like an achievement now in adulthood. Ron was, well…Ron. He had, after all,“…the emotional range of a teaspoon,” as Hermione herself had once so eloquently stated.

Okay, he knew she was obviously upset.

“Duh, Potter,” he chided himself as he continued to ascend the staircase.

In his mind he was clearly wrongly charged. But he knew what she had seen. Well, he knew what she had thought she had seen at least. Yet he knew that was impossible. He hadn’t done anything with Cho. He hadn’t even gone near her the entire night.

Without realizing it, Harry reached the front door of Hermione’s apartment. He looked up at the handsome mahogany door and sighed. He knocked on the door, not really knowing what to expect.

No answer sounded from within. He knocked again.

Silence.

“Hermione, please open the door,” he said loudly, but careful not to shout and bring attention to himself. “I understand how you must be feeling, but we really need to talk.”

Nothing.

Determinedly, he proceeded to rap on the door until the skin of his fist was flaming from pain. Hermione’s Muggle neighbors began to peer out of their peepholes.

“I'm not leaving here until I speak with you,” Harry said again, this time louder, although still in control of his voice.

He strained his ears, but still could not hear a sound from within the apartment. He didn’t want to have to enter the flat by use of magic, but something seemed off. Just then, Harry suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He turned around, but saw only a brief flash of red. It was gone in an instant.

He ran his hand through his always messy hair. Half heartedly, Harry muttered "Alohomora." The door knob twisted and the hinges creaked as the door swung open.

At that moment he knew something was most definitely wrong, for the Protection Spell Hermione had on the home had been removed. The spell, aside from allowing only pre-approved wizards and witches from Apparating into the apartment, was also designed to repel all Alohomora Charms. You wouldn’t want just any wizard or witch able to enter your home, after all.

Harry felt a pang of fear.

"Hermione, you there?"he nervously echoed into the house while stepping through the threshold. Silence was his only answer. He walked around the flat, noticing the haphazard condition of the kitchen and living room.

A cold kettle was on the stove.

A chair was lying, back down, on the floor.

A cup of tea, cold and more than halfway full, was sitting on the kitchen table.

Hermione was a very anal about the condition of her home: it was once in a blue moon that something was out of place or not stored in its proper compartment

“Hermione!” Harry called for the third time as he continued to search the apartment. As he neared her bedroom, he heard a faint scratching sound coming from inside. Wand at the ready, just in case, he carefully opened the door. Instantly, a large blur of orange zoomed out of the room and into the hall. “Crookshanks” Harry mumbled, easing up a bit as he entered the room.

It was there that he discovered the shards of glass and broken flowers strewn throughout the floor. The blankets and sheets of her bed were tangled and disheveled. Never in his life had he ever known Hermione to leave her bed unmade. Never.

He saw her wand lying on the dresser at the right of her bed. Wherever Hermione was, she was unarmed. Not good.

Crookshanks gave a loud meow and appeared in the doorway. He gazed intently at Harry and strolled out of the room.

Getting the hint, Harry followed the Ginger cat to the front door of the apartment.

“What is it Crookshanks?” Harry asked, not at all feeling stupid talking to the animal. He knew the cat was intelligent, and was probably trying to tell him something.

That’s when he saw it: blood. There was blood on the carpet. It started near the overturned chair and ended at the doorway.

Terror and alarm pierced his heart almost as effectively as a blade. There was obviously a struggle…and Hermione had most likely not gotten the good end of it. And now she was gone.

Harry hurriedly dashed over to the fireplace. With a shaking hand, he threw a fistful of Floo Powder into the grate and shouted clearly, “The Burrow!”

* * * * *

“Good morning Sunshine,” an acidic voice laced with pure disdain called out of the infinite darkness.

The instant the vile words reached her ears, Hermione hoisted herself from the ground and stood rigid. The fatigue that had racked her body from lack of sleep and food leaked out of her body at the sign of the greeting, although Hermione could hardly call it that. The comment was dripping with sarcasm and revulsion. Her guard immediately went up and her awareness took over.

“I do hope you are enjoying your accommodations,” the voice drawled bitterly “as they were especially created for you, Mudblood.”

Though she would never admit it, a lump of fear began to rise in Hermione's throat. The voice was eerily familiar. She parted her lips for a characteristic witty reply to her captive, but failed to find her voice. Her mouth was dry from lack of water. Just how long had she been here? The darkness she was entombed in made it impossible to tell.

“What’s the matter?” it called again, this time tainted in mockery. “Is the dirty Mudblood it afwaid of the dark?”

In an instant she knew. It was Sirius's murder, Voldemort’s apprentice and most loyal follower: Bellatrix Lestrange. Oh how Hermione now easily identified the witch by the simple pitch and tone of her striking accent.

“I should have known it was you,” Hermione spat, swallowing hard to rid the dryness in her mouth. “No other Death Eater would be stupid enough to try something like this.”

“Your conceit astounds me, Mudblood,” Bellatrix sneered, her voice perfectly steady. “You are in no position to insult your host. Lumos!”

A wand tip ignited a few feet in front of her, allowing Hermione a brief escape from the absolute darkness she was beginning to loathe. From what she could see, she realized that she was indeed imprisoned in a cell. The bars were made of thick steel and rose all the way to the low ceiling of the room. It reminded her of an old Muggle cell, the ones from old Wild West shows with sheriffs and gunfights at high noon. Bellatrix’s sinister face was also visible, painted with a sick glee radiating from what Hermione surmised was the Death Eater’s version of a smile.

“There. That’s loads better,” she said, eyeing Hermione intently. “Now I can see your pretty face. Although right now I must say you do look rather horrible,” she finished in a sneer.

“What is your purpose with me Lestrange?” Hermione snapped irritably, eyes flashing warily in shadows of the wand light.

Bellatrix was unfazed by her outburst. “You mean to tell me that little Miss Perfect hasn’t figured it out by now?” She was in am extremely good mood; the kidnap had gone off without a hitch, and all was proceeding according to plan. If she wasn’t in such high spirits, she might have Crucio’d Hermione for her petulance.

“I have an idea,” Hermione responded. Sitting alone in the darkness for hours can really get you thinking.

Bellatrix looked at her with interest. “Don’t keep in such suspense, Mudblood.”

“Harry,” she said simply. “You target is Harry. So you Imperio’d Ron into kidnapping me in hopes that Harry would play the hero and try to rescue me.”

The Death Eater raised a thin eyebrow. “Very good,” she drawled.

“But there’s a flaw in your scheme,” Hermione continued.

“Is there?”

“He won't come bursting in here anytime soon,” she said bitterly. “You’ve got the wrong girl. It's Cho Chang you want if you're trying to snag Harry." Her eyes tingled irritably as she fought to hold back tears. She would not show weakness in front of Bellatrix, and she was past crying over that man. Hours alone in a dark cell can really make you think.

A grim smirk curled onto Bellatrix’s thin lips. “My, my, my. And I was led to believe you were a clever witch.” She paused. “Inform the Daily Prophet!” she suddenly proclaimed. The green in her hazel eyes suddenly seemed more intense as they shined with malice. “For once in your pathetic life, you have the wrong answer.”

“He won’t come for me! He doesn’t love me!” Hermione exploded. “He never did!” She laughed bitterly. “And I actually allowed myself to fall for him! I was blinded by Merlin knows what, and now I have to pay the consequences!” She was shaking from her emotional outburst. After a few seconds, she somewhat regained her composure. “Harry won’t come,” she said quietly. “Just wait and see.”

Bellatrix was strangely quiet after Hermione’s public epiphany. She stared at the trembling girl in front of her, mirth radiating from her eyes. The Mudblood was definitely in pain now, no doubt about that. But wouldn’t another revelation add to her misery, and in affect add to Bellatrix’s amusement? Her revenge? Yes, she decided. This opportunity was simply too tantalizing to pass up. A grim smirk curled onto her lips. “It wasn’t Potter you saw in the Weasley’s room, Mudblood.”

Hermione’s empty stomach gave a summersault. Still she stared at the Death Eater, giving her the best skeptical look she could muster .

“It was the magic of Polyjuice. Dolohov and I put on that delightful performance especially for you.” She paused. “It was rather satisfying seeing you reaction. Or rather, hearing it, in the lavatory downstairs.”

Hermione felt like she had been run over by a dozen rampaging Hippogriffs.

“You lie.” But Hermione hadn’t told anyone about the details of what she saw or even what had happened after. How else could she know? Still, she refused to believe it. That would mean that she unfairly condemned Harry, said all those horrible things to him unjustly, completely made an idiot out herself. And that she was wrong. Dead wrong.

Bellatrix broke the silence in the chamber with a notorious cackle. Hermione involuntarily shuddered at the woman’s unearthly laughter.

“You fool!” she spat, laughing hysterically. “Stupid, filthy Mudblood! You think you’ve experienced pain? Pain from love?! You have not even begun to suffer my fury!” she said passionately. “The Dark Lord and his ways will prevail, Mudblood, and I will have my revenge!”

For the first time in her life, Hermione Jane Granger was dumbfounded.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes triumphantly. “I’ll leave you now, with those pleasant thoughts. Nox.”

“By the way,” Bellatrix’s voice echoed once more through the emptiness of the chamber. “You were right about one thing: you will have to pay the consequences.”

Once alone and back in complete darkness, Hermione found a brick wall and leaned against it for support. She quickly allowed herself to slide down in misery. But she would not allow the tears to fall.

* * * * *

Authors Note: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! We really appreciate it! Keep ‘em coming!

Disclaimer: We do not own anything you might recognize in this story.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now and then
You wonder why

And now I know who you are
It wasn't that hard
Just to figure you out

-Nickelback, “Figured You Out”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Mum, is Ginny coming this morning?” asked Fred as he took his customary seat at the Weasley table for the traditional Sunday breakfast. With all the Weasley children grown up and moved out, Molly insisted that they all see each other at least once a week at Sunday breakfast.

“No, I'm afraid not. Our Ginny dearest is working as usual, bless her heart,” replied Molly as the rest of the family sat down at the large oak table set to perfection by the matriarch of the family. In attendance were Fred, George, Arthur, Molly, and Percy. The eldest Weasley son’s were both out of the country, Bill in Egypt and Charlie in Romania.

“Ron’s late,” Percy observed, opening a napkin and setting it on his lap.

“Brilliant deduction, Perce” commented George, moving to grab the basket of biscuits nearest him. Percy cocked his head to the side in annoyance.

“So old Pen’s finally gone and left you then?” asked Fred, noticing the absence of his wife.

“Came to her senses did she?” George chimed in.

“Penelope,” Percy started, shooting a correcting look at Fred, “had to work early at the Ministry.”

“Right then” said George skeptically.

“You two leave Percy alone,” Molly chided “at least he’s found himself a nice woman and settled down.” She gave a reproachful look at her twin sons.

“We go on loads of dates!” countered Fred. “Remember that girl last week, from the States?”

“What was her name?” questioned Molly with eyebrows raised.

Fred stared quizzically at his twin. “Melanie?”

“Wasn’t it Jaime?” asked Arthur.

“No, that was last month, Dad” George commented with a sly grin.

Fred on the other hand had a look of deep concentration on his freckled face. “Michelle!” he finally declared triumphantly. “Her named was Michelle!”

Arthur laughed at his son’s antics, but quickly transformed his chuckles into a whooping series of coughs at the un-amused sight of his wife.

Percy shot the twins an annoyed glance and turned to his mother. “Aren't we going to wait for Ron, Mum?”

“If he can be late then he can eat late,” answered Molly matter-of-factly.

“Here here!” agreed Fred slamming his fist on the table with a mock passion. “I’m too hungry to wait for ickle Ronniekins anyhow.”

“You're always hungry!” George scoffed as he tossed a biscuit at Fred who expertly caught it with years of learned skill in his years on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“Enough boys, enough,” Arthur said with a grin. “I think that will do for breakfast table insults this morning. Now if you don't mind…shall we eat?”

The twins along with the rest of the family nodded their heads vigorously at Arthur’s comment and tucked into their morning meal, with the twins and Percy continuing to banter at one another in-between chews. Just as Molly opened her mouth to reprimand her sons, a loud crash thundered from the fire place and the sound of pounding feet came steadily toward them. The familiar form of Harry Potter soon became recognizable.

“Is she here?” Harry questioned as he approached the table.

“Geeze Harry, you look terrible,” Fred commented eyeing his friend’s disgruntled appearance.

Harry’s prominent emerald eyes danced fiercely as he repeated the question.

“Is who here, dear?” Molly asked rising from the table, concern etched in her aged features.

“Hermione!” he said in frustration, “Is she here? Have you seen or heard from her?”

“Not since last night,” Arthur said while standing up from his seat and walking over to his almost son. “What’s going on?”

“She’s not hiding here to avoid me?” questioned Harry.

“Of course not,” Molly replied. “What in Merlin’s name-”

“Have you had any contact with her at all?”

Arthur shook his head and looked at his wife, then back at Harry. “Has something happened?”

Harry glanced around at the faces in the room. They were all painted with the same bewildered and concerned look. “I…think Hermione’s in trouble,” Harry started slowly, and proceeded to tell the family of his morning adventure of sorts. Molly soothed Harry’s back after he had finished.

“Perhaps she’s just out for the morning,” she suggested hopefully.

“No,” Harry said, taking a seat at the table, “I knew she was angry at me, but she would never go anywhere without her wand.” He placed his elbows on the ancient table and cradled his head in his hands.

George opened his mouth to say something witty, but promptly shut it after a sharp look from his mother. The rest of the family looked desolately at the frustrated figure before them. Stillness reigned for several seconds as Arthur and Molly exchanged worried glances. Percy gave a slight jump as Harry suddenly raised his head and began speaking in a slow, measured tone that sounded like each word was physically paining him to verbalize.

“I have this feeling,” he started, “In the core of my heart-I know she’s in trouble. She’s been taken.”

A sudden fear gripped Molly Weasley at that moment. “What should we do Arthur?”

“We must inform the Ministry!” Percy said, more a statement than a suggestion. In his eyes the Ministry could do no wrong.

“We can't take this to the Ministry!” Fred objected, “It could be days before they get on the case!”

“Not with Hermione,” Arthur interjected. “She’s an important member of the Wizarding community-famous even, with her research at the Ministry and aid in defeating You-Know-Who.”

“And she’s Harry’s girlfriend,” George pointed out, “That one thing makes her more famous than anything else.”

“George!” Molly hissed at her son from afar.

“He’s right though,” Harry said rising from the table. “And I don't want a bunch of Ministry employees fouling up this case.” He looked apologetically at Arthur and Percy. “The Aurors-they don't know Hermione-and they don't know the kind of people who took her.”
“What kind of people are you implying Harry?” asked Molly gently.

Harry stared down at the table, secretly dreading the words he was about to speak. After a few seconds, he looked up again at the family. “I don-”

“The kind of people you’d least expect,” interrupted the voice of Ginny Weasley.

* * * * *

Darkness reigned. She heard a distant drip drip drip from an invisible pipe faintly echo in the chamber. The deafening silence was split between this maddening drip drip drip and the dull thumping of her heart.

It had been several agonizing hours, and the tears had still not fallen.

* * * * *

The Weasley’s plus Harry turned and stared surprisingly at the shape standing in the doorway. Ginevra Weasley was no longer the awkward and timid little girl from her early days at Hogwarts. Time had turned her into an attractive woman, a powerful witch, and a clever hunter of evil. At age 20, she was an Auror with the ultimate resources: beauty and brains.

“Ginny?” Molly questioned as she rose to greet her only daughter. “I thought you were working on a big case?”

“I am, Mum,” she answered with a bit of a giggle after a gripping hug. “Hello Dad, Fred-”

“What do you know?” Harry interrupted eyeing her intently.

“Hello to you too, Harry,” she said with slight amusement and the twinge of a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he replied removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “I’m just going nutters here with-everything.”

“Understandable,” Ginny said. The amusement had left her voice.

“How are you working on that case if you’re here?” Percy asked sardonically.

Ginny looked at her older brother with a glint of satisfaction in her maple-tinted eyes. “You are not privy to that information.”

Percy pouted at the comment. He didn’t enjoy being out-of-the loop when it came to Ministry business.

“Now, I hate to cut this reunion short, but I need to speak with Harry,” Ginny continued with a regretful look at her family. She turned her attention to the Boy-Who-Lived. “Fancy a walk?”

“Sure.”

* * * * *

“What do you know?” Harry asked her eagerly minutes later. “She’s in danger, isn’t she?”

“Shh!” Ginny hissed as she grabbed his hand and led him through the extensive backyard of the Burrow. “Not until we are in a secure area.”

She shivered a bit beneath a long caramel colored coat and black turtleneck. A cold fog had settled over the grass and stretched as far as the eye could see. The brilliant sun that had decorated the morning sky minutes earlier had now eerily disappeared behind thick rolls of murky clouds. She gripped her wand with one hand and she strap of a black bag over her shoulder with the other.

Harry stared up into the ominous sky and quickened his pace. “Where are we going?”

“Dad’s office,” she called through the mist as they passed the mossy shores of the lake.

“Office?”

“It’s actually more like a storage room,” Ginny said with a grin. “Thanks to Dad and his magical tinkering.”

Soon the pair arrived at a small wooden shed that looked no bigger than Harry’s old room at the Dursley’s. The red paint was chipped and peeling and the door looked as if it would fall off its hinges the moment it was opened.

Ginny stood in front of the dilapidated door and announced clearly, “Rubber duck.” The door made a faint gushing sound as if it was releasing air and promptly opened.

Harry and Ginny carefully stepped into the shed. Arthur had obviously magically expanded the inside, for it was at least 3 times bigger than its outward appearance. The room was full of what looked like hundreds of wooden book shelves filled with all sorts of Muggle artifacts, from tape dispensers to computer mouses, and even an electric curling iron. Boxes and boxes of more Muggle trinkets filled up what seemed every available space that wasn’t already occupied. In the center of the room was a large and rather handsome ebony desk. It looked somewhat out of place in the muddled space.

“I take it this is where Arthur keeps all his Muggle stuff?” Harry asked as he followed Ginny through the maze of clutter.

“Yeah. But it’s suppose to be his office,” she replied with a wry grin as she reached the black desk and conjured two somewhat cushy seats for Harry and herself.

“And this place is secure?”

Ginny sat down and smiled assuringly at him from across the table. “Of course. Dad put all sorts of enchantments on this place. Totally undetectable. Mum doesn-”

Harry cut her off. “The case is about Hermione, isn’t it?”

Ginny blinked. Her smile was gone in an instant.

“The big one you’ve been working on. It’s has to do with Hermione.”

“Yes,” she finally answered. “It does.”

“What do you know?” he asked apprehensively.

“Not as much as I need to,” she said. “But I’ve been working on this case for weeks now and I’ve-”

“Then you knew she was going to be attacked? You knew and did nothing to save her?” he questioned accusingly.

Ginny’s eyes danced with anger. “You’re not the only one who cares for Hermione, Mr. Potter.” Harry visibly flinched at the formal title. “She’s like a sister to me. Do you honestly think that I would have-”

Harry held up a hand gesturing her to stop. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t mean that. I know you would have done everything in your power to save her if you could have.”

Her face relaxed and her supple brown eyes warmed. “Enough apologies.”

Harry gave her a faint smile and sat down. “Deal.”

* * * * *

The deceptively battered looking front door to the office of sorts stood firm as its edge stood ajar against the doorframe. Ginny and Harry where so immersed in the impending situation that neither noticed the invisible shadow creep into the room moments after they had and silently conceal itself among the clutter.

* * * * *

“I am about to tell you extremely confidential Auror business, Harry.” Ginny began. “Explicitly secret, actually. I could lose my job of any of this goes awry.” She paused and stared down at the desk. “But I knew I would need your help on this case. No one else has the capacity to deal with what - who we’re…” She lifted her head up, “well…dealing with.”

Harry’s pulse raced. “Please tell me it’s not her, Gin.”

Ginny sighed and opened the black bag she had been carrying over one shoulder. She quickly produced several dozen large print muggle photos and placed them on the desk directly in front of him. She looked at him apologetically. “I wish I could, Harry.”

He stared down at the photos below him and met the menacing face of Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Shit,” he said aloud.

“I’ve taken these photos from Muggle surveillance videos from various areas in town.”

“How did she-?”

Ginny sighed heavily. “Her accomplices are Antonin Dolohov and Augustus Rookwood.”

Harry felt a weight heavier than anything he had ever experienced creep up onto his shoulders. If Bellatrix had Hermione, there would be no telling what sort of torture the Death Eater and her cronies would be putting her through. And how would they know if she was even still alive? He shuddered at the thought of Hermione’s body lying stiff somewhere, her warm chocolate eyes icily glazed over, an expression of fear forever carved into her beautiful face by means of the Killing Curse - just like Cedric.

“Bellatrix hates Muggle-borns,” he said blankly, suddenly drained of all energy.

Ginny stared at him intently, her Auror eyes hard yet full of sympathy. Somehow the 21-year old wizard sitting in front of her, the-Boy-Who-Lived, the ultimate hero of the known Wizarding World, had relapsed into the skinny and bespectacled 11- year old she had met at King’s Cross the year before she was to attend Hogwarts. “That seems like eons ago,” she though to herself.

She reached across the desk and gripped his hand. “I know this is a lot to take in, but there’s more.”

“Great,” he said cheekily.

“A few months ago the Agency was informed that Bellatrix had been spotted in London.” Ginny began to collect the photos and placed them back into her bag. She quickly produced a stack of parchments and held them in her lap. “I have been undercover for weeks following her every move. I know now that someone else has been helping Bellatrix.”

“What do you mean?”

“The person who led Bellatrix to Hermione,” she said steadily. “The person who did the actual kidnapping.” She paused uncertainly.

“Who?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“It’s not really him, Harry,” she said quickly. “He doesn’t realize what he’s doing.”

“Ginny,” he said seriously. “You’re scaring me. Who are you talking about?”

She gave him a pained look. The name that came out of her lips next was indeed the one he had never expected to hear. The one he that had never even crossed his mind.

“Ron,” she said almost apologetically. “It’s Ron.”

* * * * *

Author’s Note: We’re nearing the end…enjoy.

And PLEASE review…this chapter was a killer to write…took forever!

(No song this chappy…that’s how anxious we were to post!)

* * * * *

“Ron?” Harry repeated, skepticism evident both on his face and in his voice. “You mean Ronald Weasley, your brother and my best friend?”

“Yes,” said Ginny, eyes twinkling anxiously to clarify the situation to him. “Let me explain.”

Harry, still doubtful, nodded and leaned forward in his chair, eyeing her intently.

Ginny cleared her throat. “Last night before your party, Ron was attacked by Bellatrix and Dolohov. They captured him at his own apartment and placed him under Imperious.” She sighed. “He’s been under Bellatrix’s control for nearly 24 hours.”

“And you know all this how, exactly?”

“I’ve been undercover,” she said plainly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“As what? A Death Eater?” he questioned. “That’s some pretty good detective work, Gin.”

“Harry,” Ginny responded quietly leaning forward so that they were only inches apart. “I’m an animagus- a fox.”

Harry blinked. “Really?”

She nodded. “I was hiding outside Ron’s flat when they got him. I couldn’t stop them because I was discovered a few minutes before the attack.”

Comprehension suddenly dawned on Harry. “You followed me this morning, didn’t you? Right outside Hermione’s flat?”

Ginny grinned. “Yeah. Guess I need to work on my concealment skills.” She looked down. Her smile abruptly faded into a frown. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop Ron, Harry. I wasn’t there when he took Hermione.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” Harry said instantly, giving her a reassuring look. “This is all because of Bellatrix Lestrange and her cronies, no one else.”

Ginny shot him appreciative glance from across the desk and began to rifle through the parchments in her lap. Harry’s mind automatically began drifting toward Ron. Was he really under Imperious during the party last night? Was he really Bellatrix’s right hand man? Did he really kidnap Hermione that very morning? Too many things just seemed unclear…

“Are you sure Ginny?” Harry asked suddenly, secretly hoping that somehow she’d made a mistake in her investigation.

Ginny looked up from her task. “Positive,” she answered with sad eyes, standing firmly behind her discovery.

* * * * *

Harry shifted in his seat. “We’ve got to get to Hermione.”

“I agree. I’ve got a plan…somewhere…” Ginny murmured, once again shifting through the papers from her bag.

Those were the last words of Harry and Ginny’s conversation that Ron heard. Stepping out carefully from the shadows of an old brown refrigerator, he silently crept back toward the entrance of the shed. Taking time to insure that neither pair noticed his presence in the room, Ron stood painfully still at the door, watching and waiting for his window of opportunity to depart. If he were exposed, it could mean the end of Bellatrix’s plan. After a few moments, he quietly inched opened the still ajar door and made his escape.

The early morning fog had given way to a sudden squall. Dollops of rain doused Ron as he anti-Disillusioned himself and ran toward the Apparation site. Though the true Ronald was fighting strongly within, he could still not free himself of Bellatrix’s grip.

* * * * *

A rain-drenched Ron nearly crashed into Dolohov upon his arrival to his own flat. “Where…is….Bellatrix?” he uttered breathlessly after his quick sprint in the downpour. “I… must speak…. with her….immediately.”

Dolohov eyed the shabby looking Blood Traitor with contempt. “She is down with the Mudblood,” he said coldly.

Ron made way toward the door that led to the basement. “I wouldn’t disturb her, Weasel,” Dolohov called after him. “She’ll hex you good if you interrupt her fun with the Mudblood.”

“She’ll want to be interrupted for this,” Ron muttered and descended the steps to Hermione’s imprisonment below.

He hurriedly reached the thick door blocking the entrance to the chamber. He could already hear his master’s muffled laughter from the opposite side. With much effort, Ron pushed the door open, discharging a thumping sound down into the chamber.

Bellatrix whirled around quickly and turned her attention from the limp and bruised Hermione on the cobblestone floor to the red-headed figure making his way toward her down the massive stairs.

Bellatrix sneered. “How dare you disturb-”

“Forgive the intrusion, My Lady,” Ron garbled as he sunk into a ridiculous bow at the foot of the staircase.

Curiosity swept Bellatrix as alarm became apparent on the Weasel’s freckled face.

“Well?” she said impatiently. “Get on with it! I would like to get back to my entertainment…” A brief look of amusement swept over her pale face as she glanced at an unconscious Hermione.

“They know,” he said simply.

The Death Eater rolled her eyes. “They know what, exactly?”

“Everything.”

“Impossible!” Bellatrix laughed. “How could they?”

“They-”

“I planned everything perfectly,” she barreled on.

“My Lady, they-”

“There is possibly no way that they could have…”

“But they-”

She finally looked at Ron in annoyance. “Who are they, exactly?”

“They-” Ron said cautiously, “-are Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley.”

She peered at his cloudy-blue eyes in disbelief for several seconds. “You’re quite sure?” she asked through clenched teeth.

Ron shuffled uncomfortably under her intense stare. “Yes.”

Bellatrix then turned and gave a monstrous shriek of frustration that forced Ron to cringe and Hermione awaken. She stirred on the cold floor, trying to register what she thought she had just heard in her unconscious state.

Bellatrix began to pace the room feverishly, looking more and more livid at every step. The black folds of her cloak billowed out behind her, giving her the appearance of an overgrown bat.

Ron stood motionless, ready and waiting for instructions from his mistress.

* * * * *

“Harry, we have to be logical!” Ginny said exasperatedly. “We can’t afford to be so rash in this delicate a situation.”

Harry folded his arms across his chest. “Then let’s do the plan that you suggested…”

Ginny looked at him questionably.

“…but with my modifications,” he finished with a twinkle in his eye.

“Figures,” she said with a sigh. “I guess we’ll have to compromise.”

The two brainstormed for a while longer until they were satisfied with their plan of action. Upon deciding some last minute details sketching out the plan’s course, they determined it best to exit their current location and inform the rest of the Weasley’s on what was happening.

Harry and Ginny left the shed, forced to walk in the fresh mud that laced the trail back to the Burrow.

“Must have rained,” remarked Ginny as the two sauntered up the trail.

“Mmhmm…” Harry murmured in agreement, his attention elsewhere.

Ginny pulled her jacket closer around herself and peered at her pre-occupied friend. “What’s wrong?” she asked curiously.

“These tracks look a bit suspicious…” Harry said, gesturing to a trail of footsteps in the mud that led from the shed to further up the hill than the two could see.

Ginny looked thoughtful. “Maybe mum or dad came looking for us?” She glanced at her watch. “We where in there for a good while…”

Harry suddenly stopped in the middle of the path.

“What now?” Ginny questioned.

“Ron was suppose to come this morning for Sunday breakfast,” Harry said heavily.

Ginny’s eyes grew wide.

“Do you think that…?”

“Dunno.”

And with that, Ginny took off up the hill, darting as fast a fox through the mud until she reached the Burrow. Harry raced after her, arriving only seconds later.

Chimes of, “Molly!” and “Mum!” rang through the house, as a frazzled Harry and Ginny stumbled into the house. The pair were instantly relieved to discover a knitting Molly in the living room.

“What in Merlin’s name is wrong with the pair of you?” she said quickly, eyeing the two curiously. “Nearly gave me a heart-attack with your ranting!”

“Sorry Mum,” Ginny said breathlessly. “We were just so worried that something had happened...”

“Any news from Hermione?” Harry asked habitually.

Molly’s face softened. “No, I’m sorry dear. But Arthur went into work a few minutes ago. He said he would alert the Auror’s immediately of her disappearance.” She smiled reassuringly and returned to her knitting. “Oh, did you run into Ron by the way?”

Ginny’s eyebrows flew up. “Ron, Mum?”

“Yes. He arrived here a few minutes after you and Harry went for your walk. I sent him to the back yard to say hello to you Ginny, since you so rarely see your family these days,” Molly Weasley answered as Harry and Ginny exchanged meaningful glances filled with angst.

A loud ringing from the kitchen interrupted the scene. Molly rose from her rocking chair. “Excuse me dears. My pies are ready.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

Ginny turned to Harry, alarm visible in here eyes.

“We need to leave, now,” whispered Harry.

Ginny nodded. “Harry and I will be leaving now Mum!” she called to Molly as the pair hurried past the kitchen toward the front door.

The bustling of pots and pans came to a halt. “What? Wouldn’t you and Harry like some pie before you go?!” Molly shouted to the duo.

Ginny gave Harry a reproachful stare. “No thank you, Molly!” Harry called this time. “We’ve really got to be going!”

“What dears?!”

Ginny pushed Harry out the front door and called back with a bit of a smile, “Bye Mum!”

* * * * *

“Very well,” Bellatrix said feebly to herself after a few minutes. “My plan can still be salvaged.” She turned to Ron. “Go fetch Dolohov and Rookwood immediately.”

Ron simply nodded and disappeared up the staircase.

“What’s the matter, Bella?” Hermione said weakly from the floor of the dungeon. Bruising was visible along her arms and neck as well as several small gashes located sporadically along her body. “Is your precious plan falling though?”

Bellatrix stopped pacing directly in front of Hermione’s cell.

“You insolent little fool,” her eyes danced with hatred. “You’ll learn to hold your tongue soon enough, or I swear I’ll rip it from your filthy Mudblood mouth!”

Hermione stood shakily, hanging onto the wall of her cell for support. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

Bellatrix’s eyebrows furrowed and she removed her wand from her cloak and pointed it threateningly at her prisoner.

Hermione looked from the wand to Bellatrix, comprehension dawning on her tired mind. “Harry’s coming,” she said slowly. “That’s why your scared…because he’s coming before you anticipated him.”

The Death Eater blinked hard, then retracted her wand. In the cell, Hermione looked on, confused as a genuine smile seemed to play at Bellatrix’s thin lips.

“Now why would Potter come for you?”

“Because he-”

“Loves you?” Bellatrix supplied sweetly.

Hermione fixed her a stern glare. “Yes.”

“My dear, filthy little Mudblood,” she drawled menacingly. “How soon you forget your actions of the previous night.”

Hermione visibly flinched at the though of the incident at the Burrow.

“You are in the wizarding world my pet. It’s time you learned that things aren’t always what they seem,” the Death Eater sniggered cruelly.

“You wanted us?” called the voice of Augustus Rookwood as he, Dolohov, and Ron arrived in the dungeon.

Bellatrix turned her attention to her servants and rubbed her hands together anxiously. “Change of plans, gentlemen. It looks as though we might be having a bit of company tonight,” she said jovially. “Disillusion yourselves and patrol the grounds.”

The men nodded in acceptance and shuffled up the steps and out of the room.

“I, on the other hand,” Bellatrix said deviously turning to Hermione, “will take care of the Mudblood.”

Hermione felt a pang of fear rush through her body ─ she was going to kill her. “Dear, God…” she whispered. “Ron!” she cried out suddenly to her friend. “Ron please! Snap out of it! You’ve got to help me!”

Ron blinked at looked directly into the cell at Hermione, as if seeing her clearly for the first time in years. His head tilted to the side and his brow crumpled, as if in thought.

“Save it!” Bellatrix said harshly. “The Blood Traitor can’t help you now.”

But Hermione only increased her pleading. “Ron please! You’re stronger than her! I know it! Don’t let her win! Break the curse Ron!”

Bellatrix’s lip curled in disgust at Hermione’s incessant pleas as she grabbed Ron by the back of his shirt and shoved him up the stairs. “Let’s go! We need to speed this up and take action! You,” she barked at him once they were at the top of the stairs. “You keep watch outside the door and let no one in! I don’t care if it’s even Dolohov or Rookwood!”

Ron, now sweating, numbly nodded as Bellatrix shoved him entirely into the corridor and slammed the heavy door shut and placed a locking spell on the massive barrier.

Hermione’s pleas, now slightly muffled, could still be heard through the grand door. “…Please Ron!...You’ve got to help me!...Hurry!...”

There began a change in Ron’s eyes as he slipped out of the curse for a few moments. The blank look vanished from his expression, only to return moments later. He shook his head vehemently, a meager attempt to rid his contradicting thoughts.

“…Remember Ron!...Please remember!...You can fight this…”

“Shut-up, idiot girl!” he heard Bellatrix snarl.

Hermione’s scream then pierced through the air and rose from the chamber.

Ron covered his ears and doubled over. His head felt like it was splitting in two.

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.”

“What?!” Ron shouted aloud, spinning around to see who was talking.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? Well, it’s not very good, is it?

“Her-mione?” he said aloud again.

“Well, if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?”

“Wha-?”

“Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!”

Hermione’s screams echoed again from the other side of the door.

“HERMIONE!” Ron roared, finally breaking free from the curse. “HERMIONE!”

“How did I let this happen?” he murmured to himself while trying to break down the door by force. Ron swiftly reached for the knob of the door and pushed with all of the might he could muster, yet it did not budge. Again and again he tried and failed each time, but he would not give up…it was Hermione in there.

He began pounding his fists on the door and screaming down to his friend in need.

“Oh God, Hermione, hold on! It’s me it really is!” Relentlessly he repeated this over and over, eager to give some sort of hope to the tortured figure down below.

Ron was back. He just hoped his return wasn’t in vain.

* * * * *

Author's Note: Whoo-hoo! We are so happy to finally have this chapter done! Believe us when we say that it was a long time coming. It's a little loner than usual (consider it our gift for making you wait for such a long time!).

Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * * * *

Everything I am,
And everything in me,
Wants to be the one you wanted me to be.
I'll never let you down,
Even if I could,
Give up everything,
If only for your good,

So hold me when I'm here,
Love me when I'm wrong,
Hold me when I'm scared,
You won't always be there,
So love me when I'm gone.

-3 Doors Down, “When I'm Gone”

* * * * *

Harry and Ginny arrived upon the grounds of Ron's flat as quietly as Apparation would allow them. The gloomy clouds that had sporadically adorned the sky throughout the day began to gather above their heads once more, creating a sinister type of darkness on what should have been a crisp Sunday afternoon.

“See anything suspicious?” Harry asked Ginny quietly as they took in their surroundings. The plan they had devised so scrupulously earlier in the day was now in ruins, seeing as the pair had to take immediate action after the news about Ron.

“Bellatrix is likely to have her two brutes making the rounds somewhere near here,” Ginny said quietly as the pair crept toward the back entrance of the apartment. “She may be mad, but she's not completely stupid. Ron must have already told her what he overheard earlier -- but I wonder if he heard the part about me being an Animagus.”

Harry crouched down near a rose bush for cover. “My Invisibility cloak would have came in handy right about now,” he mused turning to Ginny who was squatting next to him.

She did not respond however. She was staring intently at the apartment in front of her while biting her lip, obviously in deep deliberation about what exactly to do next. “I'll have to take my chances,” she said finally.

“What do you mean?”

Ginny suddenly turned to Harry. “Listen -- I'm going to change into my Animagus form and give the grounds a once-over, make sure everything is all clear.”

Harry didn't like the idea of leaving Bellatrix any more time alone with Hermione, but ultimately agreed with Ginny's course of action.

“Just be as quick as you can,” he advised her. “And don't let them see you.”

Ginny gave him a knowing glance before swiftly transforming into a scarlet fox and slinking on her way.

Harry sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his crouched position, all the while keeping his wand at the ready and eyes peeled for the slightest movement. He listened intently to the rustling of a few shady trees nearby and the rhythmic buzzing of a throng of passing insects.

He breathed a small sigh of relief a few moments later as the scarlet fox gracefully made its way toward him, its large tail bobbing steadily behind it. Its eyes remained its syrupy maple color as it changed back into the form of Ginny.

Harry peered at her anxiously. “Anything?”

She shook her head tiredly, slightly out of breath from her venture. “It's strange, Harry. I combed the entire area, including the neighbor's yards and the roof -- and nothing.”

Harry scratched his head thoughtfully. “I'll admit that's not good, but we've got to get in there.”

“No, it's too dangerous,” Ginny said adamantly. “I told you earlier we can't afford to be careless.”

“Don't you think I know that?” Harry snapped at her. “But Hermione is in there Ginny! We have to get in there, and if we don't do it soon it may be too late. And I'm not about to take that risk.”

“Not so loud,” Ginny shushed. “I understand what you're saying, Harry. I really do. But we don't know what we're up against. If we just go barreling in there, we'll be playing into Bellatrix's twisted little game.” She gave him a stern look.

“I know what we're up against,” Harry said seriously. “And I've faced worse.”

Ginny looked torn. “The first rule of Auror training is never-”

Harry fingered his wand impatiently. “Screw the Aurors, Gin!” He made a move to stand, but Ginny swiftly grabbed his arm and pulled him back down next to her.

“Don't be reckless, Harry,” she said to him crossly. “Remember Sirius.”

His emerald eyes flashed dangerously at her comment, but he said nothing.

Ginny placed her hand on his arm in hopes of calming him down. “What would Hermione want you to do, Harry?” she asked gently. “I don't think dying in vain is what she would have in mind.”

“I know what she would -- what she does want,” he said eyeing her steadily. “I'm going in there Ginny, and I don't need your approval to do it.”

Ginny stared into the hypnotizing depths of the eyes of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy-Who-Conquered -- and knew there was to be no more disagreement.

“Fine,” she said, obviously defeated. She pointed a small finger at Harry and waved it precariously. “But if I end up dead, I will make it my personal mission to become the new Peeves and haunt you until every last strand of that ridiculous hair of yours falls out.”

* * * * *

“Well…I can tell that there are plenty of protective charms on this place,” Ginny said while eyeing Ron's flat carefully. “Not to mention a heavy sound-proof enchantment…”

“A little faster there, Gin,” Harry whispered behind her while surveying the area, trying to keep their cover from being blown.

“No comments from the peanut gallery, please,” she replied warily moving toward the back door. “Alohomora!”

The door didn't open.

Harry stared at her incredulously. “Alohomora?”

Ginny glared at him defensively. “You always have to start with the basics,” she argued. “Then you work your way up to the more complex enchantments.” She continued muttering various spells in attempts to enter the building, but all resulted in no avail.

A bitter chill swept through Harry as he searched the grounds for any sign of movement. The clouds suddenly released a thunderous roar as tiny droplets of rain began falling from the sky.

“That's not good,” Harry said in an undertone.

Finally, after an utterance of “Evanesco!” the white painted door disappeared and the pair stepped through the threshold and onto the blue tile floor of Ron's kitchen.

“Careful,” Ginny warned. “This has definitely been too easy. Something is bound to-”

Harry quickly grabbed her arm and motioned her to be quiet. The pair stood as still as statues in the middle of Ron's den as a slightly muffled but very real scream echoed though the room. Harry's heart began beating wildly in his chest. Ginny's eyes had widened slightly as if in realization of something, but her face was otherwise unreadable.

Another muffled cry, slightly weaker than the first, but accompanied now by a hollow banging sent a surge of adrenaline racing though Harry's veins. Without a word, he tore through the house (still as quietly as possible) with Ginny at his heels.

* * * * *

Ron hung his head tiredly, wiping away the rapid amount of sweat that had appeared on his brow. He had been beating on the thick door that was the entrance to Hermione's chamber for what seemed like hours, though in reality it had only been a few precious minutes. With each fresh cry of pain that escaped through his friend's lips, a large surge of guilt would wash quickly through Ron, only to be replaced seconds later by an even mightier rush of anger and frustration.

“Damn you, Bellatrix,” he growled. “If I only had my wand…” He thought of the evening Bellatrix had attacked him, and although he had a terrible headache, distinctly remembered the Death Eater wrestling it from his tight grasp and pocketing it in her robes. Uneasiness abruptly swept over Ron as he lifted his gaze from the floor -- Hermione's cries were becoming quieter and less and less frequent.

“Hermione!” he cried feverishly hitting the metal door. “Don't you dare give up! You hear me?!” His throat muscles burned in pain from his loud cries. “Don't you dare give up!”

“Ron?” a husky voice called out from somewhere behind him.

Ron swerved around precariously, a tiny feeling of hope rising in his chest. “Harry?”

“Ron is that really you?” sounded Harry's skeptical voice as he swiftly came into view, dark cloak fluttering after him and wand at the ready.

“Careful,” Ginny hissed rounding the corner closely behind him. “Imperious.” Her wand was pointed threateningly at Ron as well.

“I'm not under Imperious anymore!” he said rapidly, hands in front of him to show he meant no harm. “I broke free!”

“Broke free?” Ginny questioned with one thin eyebrow raised.

“Yes, but that's not important!”

She took a step forward. “I beg to differ.”

“How do we know it's really you?” Harry asked, his face shadowed in the dark hallway.

“I have no wand, so even if I was under Imperious, I wouldn't be able to do anything.” he said reasonably. Harry and Ginny exchanged skeptical looks while Ron gave a concerned glance at the barrier behind him.

“Listen to me!” he said fiercely as another faint scream reached their ears. “Hermione's on the other side of that door with Bellatrix. She's being tortured --murdered-- this very minute.

Harry's brilliant eyes flickered momentarily, and then turned his head toward Ginny, as if asking her silently whether they should believe him.

Ron turned to his sister, who was at the moment staring most intensely at his own eyes, as if searching his very soul for the answer. His China-blue eyes were silently pleading with her, willing her to believe the truth through the special bond only a brother-and-sister shared. After several moments of study, Ginny slowly lowered her wand and embraced her big brother. “I was so scared that we'd lost you,” she whispered over his shoulder.

“You nearly did,” he said quietly as they released each other.

“Alohomora!” Harry shouted at the door.

Ginny paced behind him now, arms folded across her chest. “Alohomora? Really now…”

Harry rolled his eyes. “How old are we?”

Ginny did not respond, but instead turned to Ron as Harry continued muttering spells at the barrier. “How long have they been down there?”

“I'm not sure,” he said truthfully. “It was all so weird. Hermione -- she was calling to me. Then I was shoved up here -- and I heard her again. Only this time, it was like she was standing right next to me. And my head…felt like it was being torn apart…” Ron trailed off as another raspy painful squeal echoed through the door, accompanied by Bellatrix's sickening cackle.

Harry froze as effectively as if he'd been hit by an Immobilus charm.

Ron's face drained of all color, which was rather difficult as he was already quite pale.

Ginny's stern face fought hard to conceal the trepidation set in her eyes. “Crucio,” she commented quietly.

It felt like a knife had cut into Harry's heart at the sound of Hermione's voice -- filled with so much fear -- so much anguish -- and so much pain. A sudden flame erupted inside Harry, and determination filled him as never before.

“Bombarda!” he roared with a firm arm movement. All three shielded their faces as the barrier burst open, spewing broken metal fragments and dust in toward them at an alarming rate.

“Brilliant Harry,” Ginny coughed as they all thundered down the adjacent staircase, Harry in the lead. “And here Ron,” she said him while thrusting a wand into his hand. “I always keep a spare.”

* * * * *

Bellatrix was waiting for them as the three entered the chamber. The air in the room was thick and humid. The normally black walls where now lit by fat green torches flaming an unusually vibrant red.

“Welcome,” Bellatrix said serenely, a horrible grin spreading on her unusually flushed face. “I was so hoping you would join us.”

The trio stationed themselves directly across from her, wands out.

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows at them. “Such animosity.” She twirled her wand between her long fingers, still grinning wildly. “I expect you came here to collect your pet?”

“Where is she?” Harry said evenly, his eyes never leaving her perverse face.

“Ah.” she drawled. “The million dollar question…”

Harry took a step forward with wand raised. “Listen to me-”

“Ah-ah-ah,” said the Death Eater wagging a slim finger in front of her. “Careful. We wouldn't want anything happening to the dirty Mudblood, now would we?”

Harry silently fumed as Ron stirred beside Ginny.

“Calm down,” Ginny whispered faintly to him. “Be ready…”

“For what?” he growled.

“Anything,” she replied through clenched teeth.

“You're pathetic,” Harry spat at Bellatrix.

“Not to mention delusional,” Ron muttered loudly.

Bellatrix eyed Ron fixedly. “I see you've rejoined St. Potter and his gang of misfits.”

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Ginny cut him off before he could start.

“Just give us Hermione,” she said steadily, “and we won't kill you.”

Bellatrix guffawed. “You wouldn't be able to do so otherwise.”

Hermione's frightful screams echoed through Harry's mind. “Me then,” he said suddenly. “You can have me. Just let Hermione go.”

Ron shot a sharp look at his friend.

Ginny let out a small groan. “Harrrry…”

“That is a tantalizing proposition,” Bellatrix mused. “I thought you would be fool enough to offer your own life for that filthy creature.”

Anger bubbled in Harry's veins. “What are you waiting for then? If you're going to kill us, then do it!”

Bellatrix's heavy lidded eyes twinkled with delight.

“If not then let Hermione go so we can properly kick your ass!” he finished.

“I seem to have struck a chord,” she said coolly. “Well, far be it for me to come between true love. If you care for the--” she paused, “witch so much, then by all means…” She swept away her long black cloak from behind her and stepped aside, revealing the mangled body of Hermione.

Ginny gave a sharp intake of breath at the sight before them.

She was still dressed in her pajamas, although they were torn in some parts and covered in dirt. Her beautiful hair, once busy and full of life, was matted with sweat and blood; her sparkling eyes were shut tight, bruised and beaten. Along her long slim figure where various bumps, scrapes, and bruises. Markings were prominently etched in along her arms.

The sight of her alone wrenched Harry's stomach with an intense pain. He was instantly flooded with a mixture of grief and rage.

Bellatrix looked as is Christmas had come early. “Your precious Mudblood,” she said in a mockingly sad tone. “Awfully susceptible little thing, wouldn't you agree Potter?” She looked at Harry excitedly. “Quite clever, I had heard...”

Harry wanted to cry out -- scream-- wipe the idiotic smirk off of Bellatrix's face.

“Harrrry…” cautioned Ginny at the sight of his face filling to the brim with hatred.

Ron looked as if he were about to burp up a few slugs. “Is she-?”

“Dead?” Bellatrix supplied. “Not quite. One would think a dozen Crucio's would have done it…but no…” a look of disappointment was on her face, “not dead -- yet.”

At that moment, Hermione began to stir on the chamber floor.

“You'll pay for this,” Harry snarled as he charged toward the Death Eater, his wand held firmly and pointed directly at her cold heart.

The Death Eater, much quicker than anyone would have though possible, swiftly leaned down and pulled a barely awake Hermione from the floor. The green in her own hazel eyes flashed vividly as she held her own wand against Hermione's throat. She hung limply in Bellatrix's arm, her head lolled to one side, eyes still shut tight.

Harry stopped his advancement.

“Take one more step, any of you, and you'll never see her again,” she said dangerously, pressing her wand further into Hermione's neck while glaring sadistically at the trio. “Alive that is.”

Ron reluctantly pulled Harry back toward where he and Ginny where standing, shooting daggers at Bellatrix with every movement. Hermione was slowly opening her eyes in Bellatrix's arms, blinking steadily in the bright light of the chamber after so many hours of perpetual darkness.

“Just hand her over,” Ginny spoke up, her voice filled with calm anger. “Then let us cart you off to Azkaban where you belong.” Her face was stern and serious. “It will save us all quite a bit of time if you surrender now.”

“Awfully big talk for such a small girl,” she goaded. Ginny narrowed her eyes severely.

“You've got to realize that you can't win,” Ron said assertively. “It's the three of us versus you.” Bellatrix sniggered knowingly, as if she knew something that they didn't.

Hermione had opened her eyes fully now and was staring back and forth wildly between Harry, Ron, and Ginny. She gave a fearful glance at Bellatrix. “Watch out!” she managed to sputter in a weak, hoarse voice to the trio.

Ron and Ginny spun around simultaneously and came face to face with Dolohov and Rookwood, who had crept down into the chamber in their Disillusioned forms moments ago. As quickly as their fist spin they repeated the same motion in the opposite direction as the Death Eaters raised their wands in attack.

“Tarantallegra,” yelled Ginny at Rookwood. Instantly his limbs began to twitch. It was Ron who fired next as he cried “Rictusempra.” Dolohov began to roar with laughter at the tickling charm. Somehow the two managed to perform the counter-curses on each other, and the fighting went on.

Harry, who had turned instinctively to the commotion behind him, found himself suddenly thrown against the far stone wall and his wand flung across the room. Bellatrix had seized her moment of opportunity and immediately rounded on him, laughing like mad. She muttered another spell, launching Harry once again across to the opposite wall. His head hit the stone with a sickening crack. His body slumped dejectedly onto the floor, and for a few moments all consciousness was lost.

Hermione, now free from Bellatrix's grasp, watched horrified as the scene before her unfolded. “Harry…wake up…hurry” she shouted urgently to his crumpled form.

Her voice once again triggered something in Harry's mind, forcing him to awake and focus on his surroundings.

At the sound of her cry, Bellatrix turned her attention to Hermione. “You,” she sniggered cruelly as she kicked her violently in the ribs. “You stupid girl. You are of no more use to me now.” Hermione gave a small moan of pain as Bellatrix seized her by her wrists and slammed her back down hard to the floor. “Filthy Mudblood,” she spat viciously as she turned away from Hermione, leaving her crumpled and in agony on the rock floor.

She walked across the room to Harry, who was struggling to raise himself off the ground. “And you,” the Death Eater drawled menacingly. “You have managed to wriggle free from the hands of death one time to many.” She towered over him, eyes hard and filled with excitement. “I daresay tonight your blessed streak will be over.”

He tried righting himself again, but got immediately light headed. His head was throbbing sharply, and he was sure he was bleeding from somewhere. Harry glanced anxiously at Ron and Ginny, who were both intensely involved with their duels. Hermione was still where Bellatrix had left her, her face contorting in pain as she desperately willed herself to crawl toward Harry's discarded wand.

“Brilliant plan Bellatrix,” Harry said roughly. “Too bad Ginny Weasley was on to you the entire time.”

“Duly noted.”

Hermione was getting closer…

“The legendary Harry Potter,” Bellatrix scoffed. “If your wretched parents could see you now…wasn't your mother a Mudblood as well?” She reached out and touched a long streak of ruby blood that had trickled down the side of his face.

Harry glared up at her.

“Of course they got themselves killed years ago -- cowardly, meddlesome fools the Dark Lord always said.”

A little further…

“And I'd say it's past time you joined them.” She stepped back. “Goodbye Harry Potter.” Her eyes flashed victoriously, lips set into a triumphant grin, wand arm raised high as she began to speak the Killing Curse.

Harry was preparing himself to make a giant leap aside when Hermione unexpectedly cried “Expelliarmus!” from across the room. Bellatrix's look of euphoria was replaced with a look of surprise as her wand flew out of her hand and landed near the stairway. With a flustered glance at Harry, she quickly turned on her heel and lunged toward it.

Harry dizzily sprang to his feet after her.

Hermione had managed pull herself onto her knees, Harry's wand still in her hand, and was watching Bellatrix and Harry race to the fallen wand. With a sinking sensation of dread, she quickly realized Bellatrix would get their first. “Ferula!” she shouted at the Death Eater. In an instant, thick white ropes sprang from thin air and entangled themselves around Bellatrix. She came crashing to the floor with a hard thud, the momentum from her desperate sprint dragging her along the floor for several feet.

Another dull thud grabbed both Harry and Hermione's attention. They turned in time to witness Rookwood's body unceremoniously slouch to the ground. A triumphant Ginny then moved to help her brother, who was still engaged with Dolohov near the far corner of the room.

Bellatrix writhed and wriggled in her bindings. Harry peered over her, shaking his head slightly. “Rotten luck,” he said seriously.

“Shameful half-blood!” she spat glaring fiercely at him. “The Dark Lord--”

“Is dead,” he cut her off.

Bellatrix gave a mighty shriek of frustration.

Harry ignored her. “Can you manage her?” he asked Ron, who had just stepped beside him. His face was blood streaked and caked with spots of dirt, but otherwise looked unharmed.

“My pleasure,” he replied grimly. “Ginny's already secured the other two.” He motioned toward Dolohov and Rookwood, who were each lying unconscious against a wall, bound with thick ropes of their own. “She just went upstairs to contact the other Aurors.”

Bellatrix continued shouting obstinacies. “Brainless blood traitors! All of you! I will destroy each and every one of you! I'll--”

“You know Bellatrix,” Harry interrupted. “If you're going to kill someone you should just do it--not stand around talking about it all day.”

Bellatrix shrieked again and struggled in her ropes. Her frantic screams subsided and instead turned into manic laughter. “The Dark Lord will rise again, greater and more powerful than ever before! Mark my words!”

“Yeah yeah,” Ron said rolling his eyes. “And Severus Snape will run starkers down Diagon Alley.” He shook his head. “Mental…”

Harry turned away from the scene. As if finally released from a strong hold, Harry rushed to Hermione.

“Hey,” Harry said tenderly as he crouched down to her side.

She was on all fours, her breaths coming in short, shallow wheezes.

Her face looked drained and pale, but her eyes still lit up warmly at the sound of his voice. “Hey,” she said weakly before she began coughing violently.

“It'll be alright,” Harry said gathering her in his arms and holding her close. “Just breathe…it'll be okay.” He smoothed her back in small circles.

Her eyes gently closed.

Panic swept through him. “Hermione! Stay with me! Come on…”

Another fit of brutal coughs forced her chocolate eyes open. Her body stiffened in his arms as she thrashed about fighting to breathe.

“You're strong… I know you can do this…” Harry urged. Her eyes closed again.

Her eyes closed again and a groan rose from her lips. “Harry?” a tiny whisper-like voice answered. “I--love-- you…”

Harry looked around wildly, tears stinging in his own eyes now, and noticing that Ginny had returned and Ron had now gone away. She straightened Bellatrix against a wall and rushed over to the couple.

“She's having trouble breathing,” Harry said quickly. Hermione covered her mouth with her hands as she began coughing once more.

“The Aurors are on their way. How did this happen?”

Harry thought for a moment. “Bellatrix kicked her in the ribs...”

“One's probably broken and pierced her lung,” she said as she tugged Hermione's hands away from her mouth. She gasped: Hermione's hands were glistening with blood. She twisted and turned in Harry's arms as spasms of pain shot through her.

“I don't know if I can stop the seizures,” Ginny said thoughtfully. “But I think I know something for the broken rib…hold her still Harry.”

Harry did just that, holding her firmly yet gently in his own aching arms. Ginny pointed to Hermione's ribs and muttered words that Harry had never heard of, along with a few complicated wand movements.

Hermione's eye lids shot open as her rib was magically set in place. She blinked several times, her breathing now regular. A small, genuine smile played at her lips before she buried her head in Harry's shoulder, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. Harry hugged her fiercely, as if he were afraid she would break if he ever let her go. Ginny smiled knowingly at the pair and excused herself from the room.

They held each other for several minutes in silence, forgetting the past and simply living in the present.

“Damned Filthy Mudblood!”

Harry's eyes grew wide with panic and he suddenly retracted himself from Hermione. He stood up quickly and pushed her behind him as Bellatrix, inexplicably free from her ropes, came lunging at them. Hermione screamed loudly as Harry raced forward to meet the Death Eater. Her wild eyes where bright with insanity as she raised a long blade in her right hand, crashing it in his flesh somewhere slightly below Harry's left shoulder.

She twisted it around gleefully. “This was not meant for you,” she said menacingly in his ear as she pushed the knife deeper into his body, gazing over his shoulder at Hermione. “Love--conquers--all,” she drawled menacingly.

“Petrificus Totalus!” a voice shouted from the stairway.

An icy chill swept through Bellatrix as her body froze stiff as a board and hit the chamber floor, her eyes glazed over with a look a triumph.

Harry stepped away from the body and torpidly touched his shoulder, inadvertently drenching his right hand in blood. It registered somewhere in his mind that the blade was still protruding from his body -- and he numbly pulled it out without a sound.

He was feeling insatiably tired. Hermione and Ron where there in front of him, each wearing identical faces of panic and fright.

He looked down at his right hand, which was moistened and sticky with, what he finally realized, was his own blood. He was suddenly lying on the floor. When did he get on the floor?

Ron was above him now. His eyes were wide and fearful.

“Thanks mate,” he slurred weakly to him. Somehow he knew it had been Ron who had stopped Bellatrix.

Ron said something in response, but Harry couldn't make it out. His eyelids suddenly felt extremely heavy.

“Harry…”

He vaguely heard Hermione's voice.

“…Harry…please…tell you something….”

It sounded as if she were a million miles away.

“…the Burrow…wrong….Bellatrix ….love you…”

Ron spoke again, muttering something about Aurors. He fought to keeps his eyes open, which became increasingly difficult with every shallow breath.

His eyes moved lazily to Hermione, who had tears streaming freely down her cheeks. Then to Ron, whose own eyes were glassy and red as he struggled to comfort her.

As his eyes finally shut, he opened his mouth slightly. “Love…you…guys,” he finally managed to murmur in an undertone.

Darkness then became prominent, and his body fell limp as he lost all awareness.

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o o o o o

This ruddy tie definitely wasn't working for him -- it was nothing like the striped Gryffindor uniform ties he had become accustomed to wearing during his youth. As his shirt and the evil tie became ever entangled beyond repair, Harry sighed frustratingly. Moments later, he had managed to free himself by unbuttoning his collar and tugging away the stubborn tie that had progressed into a massive silver knot. Ties weren't really proper for tonight anyway, he reflected silently. He was nervous enough without having to worry about rebellious garments trying to strangle him.

Glancing down at his wristwatch, Harry noticed that he now had exactly fifteen minutes until Hermione would arrive. And Hermione was as notorious for being early as Ron was for being late. He threw the unruly tie onto his bed and turned to his closet, where he selected a dark green dress shirt that he had been told more than once complimented his emerald eyes most enchantingly. Quickly unbuttoning the white shirt he had been wearing and tossing it too onto the bed, Harry paused only slightly to gaze at the long, thin scar that ran vertically down from his left shoulder to his heart. It was his only physical reminder of that fateful night nearly six months prior…

[Flashback]

He could not see nor feel any portion of his bleeding body -- all which focused in his mind was deep concentration. Thoughts and memories flew by, framed by wisps of whitish-silver light. His past, his life, and the faces of those he loved appeared ceaselessly before his eyes. It felt as if he were swimming in a massive, never-ending pensieve.

Harry knew he shouldn't be here --that he somehow needed to escape from this limbo. But the train of recollections that were pounding their way into his mind wouldn't cease. He saw his parents in the Mirror of Erised…the blinded Basilisk struggling angrily against Fawks... Sirius flying away beneath the full moon on Buckbeak…himself flying on his Firebolt in the Quidditch match for the cup seventh year…he saw Lupin…then Ginny…then Molly…then Luna…

The memories and images continued to play before him until he came to the day where he met Ron on Platform Nine and Three-quarters. This stirred something inside him, but the memory was gone in one smooth wave, replaced silkily by the memory of his and Hermione's first kiss. That thought too stirred something inside Harry, and he fought mentally to hold onto the image of Hermione's face.

It had been during the Final Battle, minutes before Harry was to face Voldemort for the last time. They had both known how they'd felt for one another, yet never admitted to anyone. The loving, anxious, fearful look she had given him told Harry more than she could have ever said in words. He had quickly captured her lips tenderly with his own, both standing amid a tattered Hogwarts castle riddled with the dead and dying. The kiss slowly deepened and turned desperate as they each came to realize that this first kiss could very well be their last.

Without warning the memory faded away. At that moment he knew he had to hold on --for a chance to make things right with Hermione.

Suddenly, as quickly and as ceaselessly as the blink of an eye, the thin veil separating the living from the dead lifted, and Harry awoke.

His right eye opened a crack, but closed just a promptly as a tear splashed upon it. Rubbing his eyes groggily, Harry took a sharp intake of breath as a shrill pain flooded about his left shoulder.

“Careful,” a voice said quietly.

He recognized it at once. “Her-mione?”

Hermione smiled blurredly. Or at least that's how it looked to Harry. “Hey,” she said softly. “Do you want you glasses?”

With a momentous effort, he nodded, and within a few seconds Hermione had carefully placed the black frames on Harry's face.

The first image he saw the one he wanted to see most in the entire world -- Hermione. The bright lighting of the room lit her face up, highlighting the tears she had tried to wipe away moments before. Half-healed cuts and scrapes were visible along neck, jaw line, and face. She was still grinning, her eyes alive with a glow that had been extinguished for far too long.

“Crying?” he asked hoarsely. “Come on…I don't snore that badly…”

Hermione gave an appreciative little snigger. “How are you feeling?”

Harry closed his eyes as in deep concentration. “Terrible,” he finally announced seconds later. “And thirsty.”

Hermione rose from her place beside Harry's bed to retrieve a pitcher of water across the room. “I can help with the second part,” she said as she handed him a glass of cool water. “The pain you'll have to live with.”

“Peachy,” was his reply before the cool water went down his parched throat. “Saint Mungo's?”

She nodded. “Yes, you've been here for a little over a week.”

Harry coughed at this piece of news, spluttering water everywhere. “A week? Did I have brain surgery or something?”

“No.” Hermione's grin faltered a bit as she moved to clean up the spilled liquid. “You were just…well you were…” She seemed to be struggling with the ability of speech.

Harry stared at her intently. “What? Did I grow horns? Whiskers?” He looked around wildly. “A tail?”

Hermione looked aghast. “Don't be daft,” she said quickly. “It's just that you were…” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Very seriously injured.”

Harry grinned, which in turn he discovered too hurt him. “Is that all?”

“It's not funny,” Hermione said quietly. “The knife Bellatrix stabbed you with was cursed. The medi-wizards couldn't get the wound to heal…and you had lost so much blood already…” She rubbed her eyes tiredly and looked away from him.

“Hermione…”

“And then they wouldn't let me see you…” she said in a bitter tone. “Saying how I was injured and needed to be treated…rubbish…”

“You were injured,” Harry interjected, frowning.

Hermione looked up, her chocolate eyes anxious, worried. “Not as bad as you.”

Harry saw the fear, the pain, the hours of lost sleep and drink over him. “Come here.” He motioned for her to sit down next to him on the surly hospital bed.

“I'm not made of glass you know,” he teased as she very carefully joined him on the St. Mungo's crest emblazoned bed sheets.

“Why do you keep on making jokes?” she said almost angrily, avoiding his gaze. “This is really serious. You could have died-”

Harry carefully grasped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “But I didn't.” They stared at each other for several moments before Hermione looked down.

“I was wrong,” she announced heavily, once again crossing her arms around herself.

Harry took another sip of water. “You? Never…”

“I was.” She looked up at him. “Bellatrix used Polyjuice Potion to turn into to Cho. Then made Dolohov change into-”

A look of comprehension dawned on Harry's face. “Me.”

Hermione nodded. “It was all a plan -- a game. A sick little game.”

“To break us up,” Harry said shaking his head. “Why?”

“To cause pain. Anguish. She wanted revenge.”

Harry sighed heavily, which he discovered also hurt. He grimaced slightly. “Where is she now?”

“Azkaban, I suppose. Or on her way there.”

“And Ron and Ginny?”

“Perfect. Gin was promoted at the Auror Academy. And Ron just left. He was watching you before I got here.”

“Ah…I was being baby-sat?” Harry said wryly.

“We didn't want you to wake up all alone,” Hermione countered. “Besides, we've all been going bonkers without you.”

Harry grinned, glad at the lightening of the mood. “Well, I'm flattered Miss Granger.”

But Hermione was now staring very seriously at him. “Harry…”

“What?”

“I'm sorry for accusing you of cheating,” she said softly, evenly. “I-I know you would have never so much as kissed another girl. It's just that I saw you…I mean…Dolohov as you…and I completely lost it. All my logical thinking went out the window.” She sighed and began tracing the pattern of the bed sheets below her with her finger. “I can't believe I was so thick.”

“Neither can I.” Harry looked away from her, the hurt from Hermione's accusations still lingering as fresh as his wound.

Hermione looked away too, ashamed at her blatant distrust. “I'm sorry,” she said quietly, running a hand nervously through her hair.

“It's not just this time either,” Harry started. “Remember the article in Witch Weekly? The one that Cho supposedly wrote?”

Hermione felt like a naughty six year old being reprimanded. “Yes.”

“Lately it's been like you don't trust me.”

“But I do-”

He gave her a hard look. “Are you sure about that?”

Hermione exhaled and searched her mind for how to explain herself. “When I get emotional about something, the conclusion I reach often turns out to be wrong. You know that.”

“But you've known since we were kids what people say about me, Hermione.” She opened her mouth to protest, but Harry cut her off. “And I know what you're going to say. But seeing something doesn't always make it truthful, especially were magic is concerned.”

She stood up from the bed. “I know that now. Believe me, it's all I could think about when Bellatrix had me.” She shuddered at the thought of the cold, dark cell in which she was entombed for so long. “If I could, I'd take it all back! But I can't. I-I don't know what else to say to you but I'm sorry.”

Silent tears were rimming her eyes. “I love you, Harry. I always have. I don't want us to be over just because I assumed something.”

A precarious pause filled the room as the pair stared at each other, each searching themselves for what to do or say next.

It was Harry who spoke first. “Hermione…poor judgment and a couple of days aren't going to change how I feel about you.” He reached out for her hand. “I don't throw the term love around a whole lot. Every time I loved someone they were taken from me.”

“Harry…”

“You're the first person I've ever fallen in love with and it felt like a kick in the face when you ran out of the Burrow that night.”

“I know. I understand.” She wiped her eyes quietly with a tissue. “What should we do then?”

Harry sighed. “You know what the funny thing is about near death-experiences?”

Hermione stared. “No.”

“They make you realize what's really important in life. They even make you want to make up with your girlfriend, even on the rare occasion where you're actually right and should hold it over their head forever.” He grinned.

Hermione smiled too. She sat back down next to him. “Really?”

“Really.” He couldn't resist any longer after that. He released one of her hands so he could place his along the side of her face and drew her toward him. He brushed his lips on hers softly at first, then more passionately as the kiss intensified…

[End flashback]

Harry shook slightly his head to rid his mind of the memory.

That was all the past, he told himself. Focus on the present. Focus on tonight.

A romantic evening lay ahead for both Harry and Hermione. Tonight was New Years Eve and he was spending it alone with Hermione at 12 Grimmauld Place. Molly had invited the couple over to the Burrow for what Fred and George tenderly called the annual “Weasley Piss Party”, where nearly everyone save Hermione and Lupin would become roaring (and rather hilariously) drunk by midnight. The pair had politely declined however, wanting instead to ring in the New Year's quietly together.

But Harry had an ulterior motive for wanting to be alone with Hermione for the evening. And it was currently burning a hole in his pant pocket. With a quick glance at his watch (nearly ten minutes now) he finished dressing.

“You're going to be fine. Just breathe and relax,” he told himself as he tried hopelessly to smooth his hair in front of his bedroom mirror. Just then a light knocking sounded from the hall. Harry glanced at the mirror one last time. “Wish me luck,” he said to no one in particular.

“Good luck dear,” the mirror replied stiffly in his wake.

o o o o o

Hermione stood on shadowed concrete entryway to 12 Grimmauld Place, anxiously waiting for Harry to answer the door. She sincerely hoped her knocking hadn't woken up Mrs. Black; this was their evening, and no one would be calling her a Mudblood tonight. She heard his dull foot steps get closer. The knob on the black door began turning and the shining face of the man she loved appeared before her.

“Hey,” she said happily as she pulled him into a warm embrace.

“Happy New Year,” Harry said returning the fond hug. They both stepped into the house as Harry shut the door and took Hermione's coat. Finally in the lighted hallway, Harry paused, mouth slightly ajar, to gaze at his girlfriend.

Hermione had let her hair down in ringlet curls that splashed across her bare back. Her dress was a crimson shade of red in halter top form; it allowed her just enough room in the neck line to show off the same necklace she had worn to Harry's birthday. The dress hugged her body in all the flattering places yet left enough to Harry's imagination. Her light amount of makeup let her natural good looks shine through; this was something that had always impressed Harry, as he had never attracted much to girls who looked like clowns.

Hermione took no notice of Harry, and was instead peering around her at the house. “No clothes strung about? No rodents scurrying away from the light?” she asked cheekily. “I'm impressed.”

“I cleaned,” Harry said simply, happily, as if he were a little boy in grade school. He gave a huge, fake cheesy grin.

“And I am very proud,” she said laughing while she pinched his cheek fondly. Harry gently grasped her outstretched arm and pulled her to him.

“Can we skip dinner?”

He descended the staircase leading to the living room he noticed how sparkling his place looked tonight, the tidy atmosphere was the result of his intense cleaning efforts.

Harry genuinely complimented as he took the time to appreciate how beautiful she looked tonight. “Hermione you look absolutely stunning this evening.”

Hermione had let her hair down in ringlet curls that splashed across her bare back. Her dress was a crimson shade of red in halter top form; it allowed her just enough room in the neck line to show off the same necklace she had worn to Harry's birthday. The dress hugged her body in all the right places yet left enough to Harry's imagination. Her light amount of makeup let her natural good looks shine through; this was something that had always impressed Harry. He had never attracted by girls who looked like clowns.

Hermione took no notice of Harry, and was instead peering around her at the house. "No clothes strung about? No rodents scurrying away from the light?" she asked cheekily. "I'm impressed."

"I cleaned," Harry said simply, happily, as if he were a little boy in grade school. He gave a huge, fake cheesy grin,

"And I am very proud," she said laughing while she pinched his cheek fondly. Harry gently grasped her outstretched arm and pulled her to him.

"Can we skip dinner?"

As the evening passed by Harry and Hermione reminisced on old times and joked about the stupid things both of them had done in the past to hide their true feelings.

Giggling Hermione said “And Harry do you remember the time when Fred waltzed right up to us, barged into our conversation and demanded to know when we were to confess our un-dying love to each other? We both turned as bright as a beet and you excused yourself to the restroom, you were trying to get away so fast that you almost tripped three times before you made it.” She finished with a fit of laughter but abruptly halted when she noticed the wicked gleam in Harry's eyes.

“Oh you think that's funny, do you Hermione? Well I'll show you funny!” He called to her as he got up from the couch and began chasing her down the hallway. She ran into his room, rounded the bed, and was out the door before he could reach her. Laughing her way back down the hallway Hermione screamed with delight when Harry finally captured her, tackling her to the ground.

“Now you see funny.” Harry shouted as her began tickling her sides while roars of giggles erupted from his girlfriend. Hermione stopped struggling and he looked deep into her eyes realizing that his whole day would mean nothing if he didn't get to see those eyes every moment of it, he remembered how much he loves her and slowly moves his lips to hers. She smiles and moves toward him to deepen the kiss, he takes her in his arms and moves his hands across her face, noticing that the best place to be was right there, next to her...with great hesitation, he moves back, grins at her, and starts tickling her until her face lights up with the smile that he lives for. Thrilled and so happy to be with him...she advances tickling him back. The feeling comes over him again and he is helpless to it, once more he cups her face in his hands and creeps closer, savoring every moment his lips edge closer to hers cradling her in his arms, he holds her tight, not wanting her to leave or him to wake up for this surely must be a dream, he gently reaches for her hand and turns her to face him, flashing her beautiful chocolate eyes at him only one thing comes to mind, this is the moment.

“Hermione there is something…” He starts to say but Hermione unintentionally cut him off.

“Look Harry the countdown is on!” she shouts as she stands up from her position on the floor, Harry follows her up and notices that there are ten seconds till the new year. Hermione looked at Harry as he got down on one knee, and removed the contents of his pant pocket to hold in front of her.

10

9

“Hermione Jane Granger…” His heart is pounding so loud that he wouldn't doubt the fact she could hear it.

8

7

“I have loved you so long, and I will love you and only you for eternity…” Tears welled up in her eyes and splashed along her scarlet dress.

6

5

Harry took a deep breath, “Will you marry me?” Hermione's face lit up instantly.

4

3

“Oh yes Harry I will, a million times yes!” was Hermione's joyful acceptance, as Harry placed the sparkling diamond ring on the correct finger.

2

1

Harry stood from his place on the ground, grabbed Hermione by the waist and pulled her into an adoring kiss just in time to hear the sounds of everyone ringing in the New Year.

The end.

o o o o o

Authors Note: Please don't hurt me. What excuse can I offer other than I have a clinical problem with procrastination. But here is some good news…the school year is over…meaning I have time to actually write to my hearts content! I'm going to try to mostly do short chapter fics, even one-shot storys. (That way I won't disappoint you guys with the lack of updates…it's cruel!)

I deeply and sincerely apologize for the lateness. It's touching to see how many of you kept checking for updates. Thank you so much.

Look for some more of my work coming out soon. I'll soon be getting a new author name. I'll post it as a new chapter on this story when it happens. So on behalf of myself and my co-author Jaime, once again thank you and God bless. Until we meet again!

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