Blazing Sands

Blazing Sands

~ If the world should end, before I knew you

At the beginning of the end should I behold you~

Part V:

"La ilaha ha ila Allah...There is no God but Allah..."

Hermione trailed off as her the eeriness of her voice sent a chill down her spine. She shivered, feeling rather cold, and decided to light the fire. Gathering her shawl around her she flicked her wand and the firewood ignited magically. The fire crackled brighter and cast more light onto the book. Hermione sighed and went back to the sofa; crossing one leg under the other she sat and looked it the first page. Her Arabic wasn't very good, but she could recognize the Shahadah, which was the first line. Unable to read any more in the original language she looked at the parallel page with the English translation. Inhaling deeply she closed the book.

Ron had drifted into deep slumber after she administered the antipyretic potion; his last words echoing in her mind. She decided to miss work today also, in case his temperature increased again. She suspected, however, that it wouldn't and that it increased only because of the excessive exertion. Keeping him on a liquid diet seemed plausible as she woke him occasionally to feed him with only water and juice. She felt responsible for his present state. She shouldn't have challenged him considering his health and considering it was Ron.

She bit her lip to avoid sobbing. Why did he have to die to protect Harry? And why was he attacked by Raeties? What was he involved in? Or was this all some intricate farce designed by some cruel mind to punish her? She rubbed her eyes, tiredly. So many questions, so little answers. Every minute of this held more pain and perplexity to her than she could have ever imagined. She considered, not-for-the-first time, to call Harry home and tell him everything.

If he would believe her.

Hermione sighed heavily and opened the diary again. No matter in what shape it would be, books held a beacon of comfort for her, which she willingly resorted to. Throughout the day she checked all the MediWizardry textbooks and all Muggle medicine books that she owned, for any information that could ease Ron's pain and help him recover better. She sent the remaining sample of his vomit and his blood, which she had, in the vial to the Flamel laboratory, by owl, asking them to provide the results immediately.

The idea of diagnostic testing was initially lost on all the MediWizards she knew, until her and a few others, who were originally Muggle, explained the advantages to the directors of St. Mungo's. It took a while but with some powerful recommendation and the generous donation by Nicholas Flamel, who surprisingly championed the idea as well, the Flamel laboratory was set up in the cellar of St. Mungo's. Of course the resources were limited, particularly for Muggle tests; however with some elementary medical knowledge and a lot of alchemy, it sufficed to their needs.

The results came in a little before she started reading the diary Snape gave her and left her completely baffled. She picked up the parchment, which lay next to all the other books and read it again:

Dear Dr. Granger,

These are the results of the samples you provided us with:

Sample A: Liquid of unknown origin

Characteristics:

Consistency: uncertain

Colour: Crimson red

Viscosity: unable to ascertain

pH: 4.56

Sp. Gravity: 2.456

Chemical tests:

Floo powder reaction: -56. Highly reactive and dangerous!!!

Gold dust test: negative

Lizard iris reaction: positive. Extremely poisonous!!!

Glass test: negative. Abnormally un-reactive to glass. Very strange!!

Organophosphate test: negative

Conc. HCl test: negative

NaCl test: negative

NaOH test: positive

Hays sulphur test: positive (presence of bile salts)

Biological tests:

Chimeara-Human agglutination: negative. Strange!

Chimera antigen: negative. Stranger!

Chinese Redbeak test: negative. Strangest!

Norwegian Horntail reaction: neutral. Terribly strange.

Particle Analysis:

Is organic in nature. Presence of nucleic acids as follows:

DNA of human origin: 7%

DNA of serpentine origin: 90%

DNA of unknown origin, presumably a result of mutation: 3%

Microorganisms (creepy-crawlies-in-the-blood-stream-test):

A type Flamel-32 strain virus

C type Merlin-6 bacillus

Cytology:

Pus cells positive

RBCs positive, serpentine origin

IgG positive, human origin

Analysis:

Hermione eeks! This has completely baffled me. I am sorry; I know you don't like me to make these blasted reports on a personal note but eeks! I have never seen something ever so strange. My assumption is that this substance is extremely poisonous and disgusting. I imagine it is in the vomit. My closest guess is that it is manipulated snake venom made by some vile horrible man. The indications in the patient should by hyperpyrectia oops! Hyperpyrexia with rigors. Vomitting and lot many others. The virus and bacillus detected are extremely strange because the A type Flamel-32 and C type Merlin-6 are like poled. They can never coexist but here they are coexisting. I suspect they must be wreaking all hell and high water in the patient.

Where did you get this stuff anyway?

Sample B: Human blood.

Colour: normal (I know you don't like this category because it is irrelevant, I put it by mistake)

Viscosity: increased

pH: decreased mildly.

Sp. Gravity: increased

Blood Type: Muggle type: test not performed; Flamel type: Z

RBC count: decreased

WBC count: increased, like wow! Increased.

Platelet count: increased tremendously!!!

Pus cells: positive

pO2: almost completely nil (this person is clearly poisoned)

pCO2: oh my god!!

ESR, PCV: unable to perform

Presence of sample A, detected.

DNA: Shows slight variation, which seems on the way to repair. Now this I have never seen.

Analysis:

This person was poisoned with sample A. Curious, very curious. Why isn't this patient in St.Mungo's? I don't know whether to interfere, so I think I won't. But this chap needs help.

Oh Blood Hell! Oops sorry! I cursed! I just, I forgot to write the values in the blood report. Oh but you already know the normal values, you know practically everything! Do you really want exactly how much it is? I don't have any sample left. I am terribly sorry. You don't want the exact values, do you?

By the way...is this why you are not coming to work?

Get back to me,

Anna Dennis Creevey

(Flamel-Laboratory technician and future MediWitch!!!)

Anna's preposterous style of reporting for some reason amused Hermione rather than irked her. She couldn't help smile at Anna's rambling, particularly since she had little reason to smile right now. She had already written back to Anna telling her she didn't need the exact values. It wouldn't make a difference, considering she knew what attacked Ron. She knew that though Anna had a habit of talking too much, she would have kept the tests a secret.

'There is no God but Allah.

Praise be to Allah most benevolent and merciful

On the fourth day of Ramadan in the year 1234 of Allah, my life took a defining turn. The turn was caused by a woman. Alliyah; I thought she was the soul mate that the Benevolent had chosen for me. The great Mahabian however had a different path chosen for me. I am Khalid Abdul Sayed, son of Sayed, clan of Khalid-al-Mubaraka. This is where I start my journey and to you O foreigner this may seem vague for a soldier of Allah to speak of the things I speak of. Yet, I no longer lived in the world that you know. The world I live in now is a different place in the multiple rifts of space...'

**

Ron was mildly aware of the fact that he was in Hermione's house when he was asleep. However, when he was completely awake it took him a few moments to register where he was. He squinted in the dark, wondering exactly how early he had woken in the morning. He peered at the clock on the side of the table and realized it was still before midnight. He sat up, noticing that the pain had decreased considerably and looked about in the dark. On the armchair just opposite, Hermione sat, her head turned to one side, fast asleep. Ron wasn't surprised, she had not slept for the two nights he was here, and he constantly reminded himself for her sake that she was the reason he was alive. She seemed to be holding something close to her as she slept. Ron smiled seeing that it was a book, happy that at least something was the same about Hermione.

He reached for the jug, wincing a little and poured the juice into a glass.

Hermione shifted and sat straight. He watched as she blinked and peered at him in the darkness. He sat still, making no sudden movements in case he scared her. When he saw her eyes adapting to the dark and recognizing him he sat up, closer to the headboards and whispered, "Hello."

She stood up, placing the book on chair and flicked her wand, "Lumos."

As light filled the room he squinted a little at the brightness and allowed his eyes to refocus on her as she came up to him and checked his temperature and pulse again.

"Hermione," he said before he gulped down the drink, "you should sleep."

Hermione did not answer immediately; instead she looked into his eyes for what seemed like a very long time to him. Just when he was about to think she was going to stomp away, she sat down on his side and swallowed hard and stayed silent for a second or two and then said, "Okay."

Ron smiled and reached for the jug again and noticed she was looking at him with a sort of resolute expression as though she was preparing for the worst. Uncertainly, he pulled his hand back and touched her shoulder. She flinched and backed away breathing almost asthmatically.

"Hermione?"

"Okay," she whispered, then looked down.

Ron understood by that her 'okay' was not the reply to his suggestion.

"What is it?"

She looked into his eyes and swallowed again, "Is this is some sort of plan?"

"Plan?" He searched her eyes. She looked very confused almost paranoid and for some reason that made him want to take her in his arms.

"Ron." She closed her eyes tightly and opened them again, then hesitantly asked, "You are Ron Weasley?"

He nodded.

"And you did not die?"

He shook his head and opened his mouth but she suddenly kept her hand on his mouth, to silence him. He was surprised at her action. She mirrored his expression, and drew her hand back, her fingers lingering on his lips a little.

"Hermione?" he said, bringing her out of the trance-like state she was in. "What is it? What is wrong?"

She inhaled deeply and exhaled her answer, "I believe you."

For some reason a wave of relief rushed over his whole body and felt the best feeling he had in six years. He should in fact have been concerned, after all, he was not allowed expose himself to any of his former acquaintances. He damned his directive to hell and whispered, "Thank you."

She looked confused at his response, so he explained, "I know it doesn't mean much to you, but I...I wanted very badly for you to know."

Her face was set firmly as she softly said, "Ron...I...you're right." After a long pause she said, "It doesn't mean much to me. Because only I know the pain that I have gone through, wanting you to be alive. And now that you are, I can't take it. I can't take any of this...I am tired..."

"Hermione--"

"Let me finish," she said, silencing him and stared for another eternity into his eyes before whispering, "I died with you that night."

Ron's expression went blank. She continued, "We all died with you, Ron. Harry, your mother, your father, your brothers, Ginny, me. I know you can never understand it, no matter how much you tell me otherwise. You don't know how Harry was after your death, I did."

Ron said nothing as he saw her eyes fill with tears.

"I have given a lot of thought to this." Her voice broke at intervals as she looked down and continued, "I will keep this a secret. If Harry found out he would kill you, Ron-" she looked up at him, the tears flowing freely, "Because he has hated himself even more since your death. None of our tears can go in vain."

"They have," he whispered. "I was never worth any of your tears."

She stared at him, and after another pregnant pause, said, "You were...by Merlin!" She caught his face. "You were...but now, I don't know if you are anymore."

"I know I am not," he said bitterly.

"I don't know how you're apparent dying then serves to protect Harry. Why Ron? How could something so horrible protect Harry? "

"I can't answer that, Hermione."

"Why? Don't you see how your dying made him suffer a fate worse than death?"

"You don't know anything about 'a fate worse than death' Hermione. Believe me you don't."

"Tell me Ron. Help me understand."

He did, by Merlin, he wanted to very badly, but her knowing it could jeopardize all that he had worked for, "I can't."

"Then I can't forgive you."

She began removing the hair away from his face; Ron closed his eyes allowing himself to pleasure of the feel of her soft skin on his face. He listened carefully as she sobbed a little before continuing, "No one will know."

He opened his eyes and caught her hand and nodded.

"I can't begin to tell you," she sighed observing his hand on hers, "how much I want to be happy that you are alive, but I can't..." she broke off and looked down.

He felt more miserable than before; still looking down she said, "I want to ask you why? How? When? But I can't Ron..." She looked up, before completing. "...because I know that I am not happy with the knowledge that you are alive."

"I wish you could be," he whispered.

"So do I."

"Hermione?"

"Ron," she looked up with a desperate look on her face and sobbed, "Tell me you're not here. Tell me that this is all a farce. Tell me you're here to take revenge on me. I'll gladly give myself up to you. Please tell me I didn't see Snape."

Tears spilled from his own eyes as he bit the sob of regret that rose in his throat. He couldn't watch her cry. He could never watch her cry. He never imagined that the hell he went through would never compare to the pain everyone else suffered because of his death, especially her. If he had known...known that she would become so extreme, that Harry would lose control; that everyone would suffer because of him, he would have said no to his mission. Or he would have died and saved himself the dejection of watching them go through all of this. He looked at the girl he always loved for her strength and courage and wished he had never reached out to her in the alleyway.

He wanted to blame everything on his traitorous heart, but he couldn't. He knew that for the sake of staying alive this was the correct decision. Only she could have kept him alive in such dire circumstances, not even his colleagues could have her resourcefulness and more importantly her determination. As far as staying uncompromised, security-wise, she was the only person he could trust. But as far as both their emotions were concerned, neither would be the same after this. So he listened to his traitorous heart, and reached for her while she would have him, and held on to her for what he thought, would be the last in a long time.

Hermione buried her head in his shoulder for the first time in a long time and wept into its crook. She tried not to put to much pressure on his body aware of his still healing wound, but as she felt his strong arms go around her she clung to him. He was the only person she could cling to so desperately, and the only person who could soothe her sobbing body with the gentleness characteristic to only him. She laughed slightly amidst her tears as she snuggled further into his shoulder. Which side were they on, anyway? The good? Most of the people they had thought to be good turned to be traitorous. And fighting for the good had left them in situations, which tested their friendship, with scars that tested their love and with emotions that only left them helpless. She tried to wish away the night when she took a supposed stranger into her home but she knew she couldn't and one part of her wouldn't because now holding the Ron who was alive, different yes, but still good and still hers, she realized that she was indeed happy, happy that he was alive, and she was suddenly determined to keep him that way, no matter what the cost.

***

"I hate the sunlight," he mumbled as he felt it sting at his eyelids. He used to love it before getting hurt. He had spent far too many days and situations in darkness not to love it. Now it caused everything to ache whenever it awoke him. He used to hate the alarm until then, now the sunlight definitely topped his list.

At his speaking out loud he felt something shift against him. It must be a woman, considering he was naked. He tried hard to remember her name, because if he moved he would awaken her and he hated being in a situation when the girl he slept with awoke before him and expected him to remember things about her like...her name.

He opened his eyes, frowning that he could not remember her name. He looked down and was surprised to see long curls of brown hair sprawled all over his chest. Moreover to see that the girl was dressed completely in a pair of old jeans and what looked like a black cardigan. She even had her slippers on. Something was definitely wrong.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember where he was, opening his eyes to look around until he spotted that armchair and it sparked of a cascade of recollections. Which ended at their previous night when in the process of trying to comfort both himself and Hermione, they both fell asleep in each other's arms. He looked down as she kept her head on his shoulder and her hand lightly on his chest. He liked having her like that, next to him. It felt peaceful. Safe. He almost laughed at himself, when he remembered his last thought was to leave her in her sleep and get out of there.

His cough of a laugh made her snap her head up and look at him blankly. He decided against moving as he watched her eyes focus on him and frown at the sunlight, raising her hand of his chest to block it from coming into her eyes. She looked down at him and looked around at the bed. He gave her his best smile before it seemed to strike her and she immediately scrambled up to rest on the bed, on her knees. She looked a little embarrassed and he liked that expression on her face. It made her look a lot more...interesting.

"Good morning," he said, hoping she wouldn't still hate him and want him dead or be thinking along those lines.

She nodded and got off the bed and peered at the clock and hissed.

"What?" he looked at the time. It was well past 8 o'clock.

"I'm late..." she said and stretched. A shudder went through him as he saw her do that, and he was suddenly grateful for the sheet covering him.

"Late?" he said, trying not to look embarrassed.

"For work."

"Oh." He nodded and stayed still as she checked his temperature and pulse. She began to shift the cover downwards and he tried not to panic, but hoped that she wouldn't notice something very rude. Fortunately she just pulled the cover to under the margin of his wound and reached for her wand and said something. The dressing disappeared and she checked the ound and began that damn prodding again.

He winced occasionally but didn't vociferously complain as she magically bandaged his wound and said, "It's healing well."

She was very good at the entire wound-checking-thing for an Auror, he thought.

...I'm a doctor...I can help you...

"Hermione?" He suddenly sat up and regretted it immediately as his head began dancing in circles, surprising her that she just froze for a second and shouted at him, "What did you do that for?"

He ignored her question and said, "Hermione...what do you do?"

"Huh?" she said, covering her yawn.

"For a living...aren't you an Auror?"

Hermione dropped her hand and stared at his face for a minute not showing any expression, then shook her head.

It would make sense that she wasn't. Aurors didn't have the luxury of skipping days at work or being late. They were trained in elementary first-aid but they weren't that good as she was. He wondered why it hadn't occurred to him before.

"I am a doctor," she said, still observing him. "In St. Mungo's."

"You went to the MediWizardry Academy?" he asked surprised, and then winced painfully as the banging started in his head again.

She nodded.

"Didn't you complete..."

"Auror training?" she said, cutting him, "No."

She loved Arithmancy, didn't she? Aurorhood provided as more challenge with spells, which was something he knew she wouldn't resist. "Why?"

Hermione, who had moved to the cupboard to open it, paused whatever she was doing and turned. He saw her face pale before she said, "I couldn't continue."

He should have known better than to pester but he couldn't help himself and asked, "Why?"

She sighed and said, "After your...death. It just...didn't make sense any more." She turned immediately, leaving a rather surprised and upset Ron staring at her back.

&uot;Why?"

Hermione didn't turn this time but just sighed again, "I don't know...it just didn't."

"Harry continued?"

"Yes." She nodded, and pulled out her clothes and tossed them on her bed. "He had a little trouble initially but he decided that saving the world was what he was best at."

Ron tried to find an implication in her statement that blamed him, but he knew she wasn't trying to blame him at least not, intentionally.

She closed the cupboard and turned to pick her clothes, when he said, "I always thought you more for Arithmancy."

She smiled. "Snape said the same."

"It was obvious." Ron shrugged. "You loved Arithmancy more than transfiguration."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I just...I suppose I wanted to save the world in another way."

"Doesn't make a difference," he said. "You're bloody good, either way."

She blushed slightly, and Ron suddenly realized with a pang how much he missed her being with him.

There was an awkward silence for a while until he finally broke it saying, "Can I eat today at least?"

Hermione seemed to snap out of her trance. "What? Oh...I...think so...but we'll get you started on something light."

"Will it be solid?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, but it won't taste all that great," she said, as she turned and headed for the bathroom, ignoring Ron's moan of protest, unseen by him, with a smug smile.

For once she had an empty head as she bathed, and welcomed the warmth of the water on her body with relief. After having bathed and refreshed herself, she emerged wiping her wet hair, debating whether to owl the hospital that she would be late or to call them by fireplace. She wiped her face as she left the threshold and when she was in the room fully she looked out of the towel to find that Ron had drifted back to sleep. She still had to get accustomed of the sight of him, much less that of his dishevelled appearance. Sighing as she wrapped the towel around her wet hair, slipped into her slippers and gently made her way out, so as to not disturb him. As she made some light porridge and juice she remembered the passing of the previous night. Reading the book and confirming that what had invaded Ron's body was indeed the poison inflicted by the Maut spell, she had also learnt that a person did not survive more than an hour after being hit, gave her a sense of apprehension, at the time; because Ron's wound looked like it had been bleeding for a long time. The Raeties were powerful beings...and the kind that was scarier than the Dementors and more ruthless than the likes of Voldemort. The idea that any one, let alone Ron would be afflicted by such a spell was unsettling. As she went up to watch him in his deep slumber she thought carefully over the things he had said. Over the ordeal he might have suffered. As he shifted slightly she wondered if. given an option, would he have come back to them? Clearly their meeting was entirely by accident. She just happened to be at the right place at the right time. Or maybe the wrong place at the wrong time. She wasn't sure which one, now.

As she made her way up with the tray of porridge and juice she wondered if he felt the same sense of protection and comfort that she had when she slept in his arms, for the first time since his 'death' in an entirely dreamless sleep.

When she entered he was already sitting up, looking as unruly as ever with the shock of hair all over his face. He beamed at her when she entered, looking a whole lot better.

"Ah!" He smelled the breakfast as she set it in front of him and sat on the armchair, picking up the diary of Khalid Abdul Sayed, and keeping it on her lap as she watched him devour the porridge. All these years, his appetite for food had definitely not changed.

"It's lousy, by the way," he said, "but I am very hungry."

She smiled and shook her head. "You shouldn't be eating anything heavier than this."

"I wish you wouldn't say that," he mumbled as he licked the spoon having finished the porridge.

Before he took his first sip of juice he motioned to the book on her lap and said, "What's that?"

"Snape gave it to me."

The glass stopped midair. He set it down on the tray saying, "What? Why?"

"Raeties," she simply said, observing his every reaction. She saw him wince at the mention of the word and then drink the juice.

"Why do you want to know about them?" he asked cautiously, licking his lips.

"He thought I should have it, Ron." She said, crossing her legs, one over the other, still observing his reaction.

Ron didn't take the second sip as he looked at her intently, "Want my advice?"

"No."

He narrowed his eyes at her and said, "Too bad! I am giving it to you anyway, the less you know about the Raeties, the better."

"Why?"

"Because they are not very nice."

"Not very nice?" Hermione coughed incredulously. "That is an understatement for a race, which, this chap claims, had been born out of pure evil."

"Hermione." He looked at her suspiciously. "How did you know about the Raeties...before meeting Snape?"

Hermione sighed. "I read more than you do, Ron."

Ron knew it was better than to argue with that statement, he was about to take the next sip, when something else occurred to him.

"No," he said. "Nobody knows about the Raeties. Not in this dim-- not here anyway."

"Well I do."

"Hermione." He set the unfinished glass on the side table and shifted to tray away, "Answer me."

"Finish your juice," she ordered.

That order ticked him off. "Don't treat me like I'm a goddamn child."

"Stop acting like one."

"Hermione..."

She rose all of a sudden and came forward, "I won't answer you, until you drink that up."

"I said..."

"I heard what you said." Her voice rose to higher decibels. "Now drink."

Ron looked at her no nonsense expression and decided to make an obvious mistake, "No."

She crossed her arms and looked at him as though he was a child, which made him uncomfortable and also pissed him off.

"Answer me." He stared back at her adamantly.

"Do you want me to force that down your throat?"

Anger followed the wave of frustration that came lunging from inside, why did she have to be so stubborn? Before he realized what he was doing, he was out of the bed, pulling her by the arms forcefully towards her and staring down at her fiercely. She seemed nonchalant to his actions and that pissed him off even more.

"Answer me!" he roared.

"Are you going to stand there trying to stare the answer out of me, Ron?" she said calmly, "or will you sit down before you become sick again?"

"Fuck you." He pushed her away, roughly and said down as his head began throbbing. Hermione balanced herself, before she fell backwards and stood rooted at the spot, staring down at him.

"What business did you have with the Raeties, Ron?" she asked, crossing her arms, as he groaned and caught his head.

"Nothing."

"Too late to say that..." She came forward and touched his shoulder; he jerked his shoulder away and glared at her.

"I can't tell you, damn it! Why don't you understand?"

"What should I understand, Ron? That you are here in my bedroom, alive and kicking, while we all thought you were dead, and you still refuse to give me an explanation."

"Hermione..." He put his head in his hands, as he rested his elbows on his knees. "I shouldn't be here now."

"And that too...why are you in such a hurry to go?"

"Because..." He looked up and swore and looked away. "I can't tell you."

"Why?" she shrieked.

"I had to do it," he bellowed again. "Don't you understand? I had to go underground."

"UNDERGROUND? What do you mean...Ron?" She kneeled and kept her hand on his knees. "What exactly were you doing Ron?"

He put his head back in his hands, "I want to tell you."

"Then tell me!"

"I CAN'T!"

"WHY NOT?"

"Because I have my directive!"

"Directive...Ron?" She lifted his face to look at her. "You were nineteen! What sort of directive could be more important than your family?"

In an overwhelming surge of violence and frustration he caught her hands and shoved her away. She fell startled to the ground as he stood up, trying to steady himself and stood over her. She supported herself on her arms, aware, from her position that he was stark naked and very angry. He bent much to agony of his head and pulled her up and pushed her towards the wall and looked at her, his jaw hard set and his face red in anger. Hermione was mortally afraid of what he would and could do, as he raised her arms over head and slammed them on the wall.

"You don't know," he hissed. "You will never know."

"Then tell me!".

"I can't, bloody hell!"

"Fine!" She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he kept her in an iron grip. She could not avoid the sight of the raging emotions in his eyes as he growled, "You think I didn't want to come home Hermione? I was in fucking hell for a week with that bastard!"

"Ron?"

"But it never ended with him, Hermione... Don't you see, it never fucking ended with him."

"I don't understand."

"NO YOU DON'T! YOU'LL NEVER UNDERSTAND! You'll never understand what it is like to thrust a knife into someone's spleen and realize you like the thrill it gives you. You'll never understand what it's like to be congratulated on killing somebody...killing somebody! Hermione! Someone with a family. DO YOU THINK I LIKED BEING UNDERGROUND? Knowing that I could never RETURN? Because my friends thought me to be dead, because me family thought me to be dead...BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT ME TO BE DEAD?"

She stared silently into his eyes she finally saw the raw emotion in them.

"Don't presume my life was all dandy, Hermione. You had a problem with me being dead...I had one BEING ALIVE. I could never see my family again. Never play with my nieces and nephews again. If anyone DIED also I wouldn't know. That was my fucking sacrifice. I had to do it."

"WHY?"

The question came as a scream from her throat.

"BECAUSE HARRY COULD DIE OTHERWISE!"

"Ron!" She pleaded with her eyes for him to tell her. "How could your being officially dead save Harry?"

"Hermione! DO YOU THINK VOLDEMORT'S DEATH WOULD END EVERYTHING?"

"What does that have to do with anything...Ron? YOU WERE NINETEEN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! Do you know what it is like for a mother to lose her boy?"

"I lost her too!" he argued. "I can never meet them again, Hermione. That is part of my job...I lost you too. You're not the only one who bloody suffered. You thought I was dead...I knew you all were alive and I couldn't come within a metre of you..."

"WHY? What job, Ron? Tell me!"

He roared at her as thought she was just a vent to let out his anger, not seeing her, only screaming at her as though in a delusion, "Do you know what it is like? To be the living dead? I do...because I died with the first man I killed?"

"Why did you kill Ron?"

"He was going to come for Harry..."

"What sort of filthy job do you do?" she shrieked. "How can it be more important than those close to you?"

"Because those close to me become a liability for me! I had to die with Voldemort!"

"At NINETEEN? Ron! You were barely a complete Auror!"

"I wasn't going to be an Auror, Hermione." He let go of her arms, and she reached to touch him but before she could he slammed them back onto the wall, "Do you know what it is like unable to have any emotion? Unable to feel love?"

"I don't believe you are capable of love, Ron."

"That's right...because the only thing I can do is hate. Hate those that murdered, innocents of Muggles and wizards. Hate enough to kill! COLD BLOODED MURDER!"

"Ron, what do you do?"

He, unexpectedly, let go of her arms and buried his head in her hair. Surprised she put her arms around him and realized he was sobbing, between his intakes of breath she could hear "I missed you...I needed you and I couldn't come to you...."

Hermione realized his body was burning up. "Ron...you're not well."

He looked up at her with eyes that showed frustration and misery, "You don't know..."

"Ron..." She caught his face on one side. "Why weren't you going to become an Auror? Why did you join Training?"

"It was my fucking cover...I had started training a long time, ago."

"What?" Hermione caught his face. "What did you say?"

"I wasn't going to become an Auror, Hermione." She watched as a tear slipped from his feverish eyes, "Because I had to protect Harry...from both Voldemort and his subsequent organizations."

"What are you on about?" She looked at his eyes and saw his resolve crumble; he let go of her and staggered towards the bed. All of a sudden a realization struck her so fast that it was almost as though someone knocked the wind out of lungs.

"Ron?" She stepped closer as she watched him climb onto the bed, aware of his health. "You...you weren't in..."

Ron did not look at her and nodded. "Special Operatives."

"Ron?" She dashed to him and forced him to look at her face, and gasped. "You can't be...oh god Ron! The rumours are true?"

He nodded, "It is Hermione..."

She couldn't look at the intensity in his eyes. "Then the Spectres ...exist?"

"We do."