Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any aspect of this story. The only thing I own is my imagination.

**Summary**: Set during DH so definite spoilers. What was going through Hermione's mind during the torture scene in Malfoy Manor? This story outlines what kept her going.

When all seems lost:

The words passed by in an unidentifiable blur, they didn't matter. For the first time in her life Hermione Granger believed that words held no importance, it was only the actions that held significance now. Her two best friends…no that wasn't right they were more, _much_ more, then best friends. They had been through so much together. Seven long, frightening years had passed since they had met. Excitement and joy, bitterness and heartbreak were just some of the myriad of feelings that these two boys, _her _boys, had brought her over those seven years. Friendship wasn't enough to describe what she shared with both of them- the phrase "best friends" was no longer the appropriate term…Her brother and the boy she loved were being taken away from her. Screaming as they were dragged away, shutting of a light in her heart as the snarling, balding man shut them away from her.

Logically she knew she _should_ be scared for her own life, after all it was her they were keeping. But she wasn't important. No, she wasn't as important as they were, no one was. Their safety was the only thing she could concentrate on, even as she got dragged towards the sneering Belatrix Lestrange, even as she awaited the unforgivable curse she knew was about to be sent her way. Smirking down at her with her hideous eyes cold and empty Belatrix, face alight with her manic power high, pointed her wand directly at Hermione's heart. Mistaking her wide, glassy eyes as a look of great fear Belatrix began to cackle at her apparent victim, unknowing that Hermione was far from afraid for what might happen to her. Her thoughts still firmly ticking over what horrific things could be happening to her boys, begging whoever was listening to keep them safe.

"Now, little Mudblood," Belatrix spat viciously as she circled Hermione like a vulture, "how did you and your filthy friends get this sword?"

_So that's what she wants_, Hermione thought to herself as she looked up at Belatrix, a sneer beginning to form on her own face as she affirmed to herself that she would never tell the truth even if…even if it lead to her death.

"Tut, tut, tut you still haven't learnt your lesson," Belatrix scolded before leaning into Hermione so that only she could hear what she was about to say next, "you'll learn your lesson you filthy mudblood, anyway no one, not even your ginger friend will care if you don't come back. Let's see if a bit of pain will loosen your tongue. CRUCIO"

A pain so intense, so scorching and…real hit Hermione the moment that small word had escaped her torturer's lips, making her wish for death, for surely death would be quicker, less painful then this. Everything was going black as a distant screaming met her ears, her own voice, shrill and oozing with pain the only thing she could hear. Her body began to writher, her limps moving in awkward directions, flailing around, but her brain, the brain that had gotten her and so many others out of trouble before, was failing her and she couldn't stop her limps from moving, couldn't halt the pain their uncoordinated dance was causing her. That's when an even more distant voice met her ears. The wonderfully cockney British voice she had grown to love, filled with its own pain, was screaming her name, he was fighting for her and the urge to fight overpowered Hermione.

The buzz that was surrounding her faded slightly and Hermione felt a suddenly felt stronger, her brain began to work again- dulling the pain that was currently overtaking her body. His laugh began to fill her ears as his face covered with that delightfully unique lopsided grin swam through her mind. No longer could did the pain feel so strong, so acute it felt more like it belonged to someone else, a dull thud that seemed slightly disconnected from her body was all the pain she could feel. Instead she felt his warm hands on her waist, an imprint from their dance. His breath on her cheek, his hands puller her closer, their bodies colliding as she sobbed into his chest was all she could feel. His voice shouted her name once more, again and again she could hear his pain, the pain she was causing through the screams she couldn't control. He was all she could think off and, slowly but surely, she felt herself separate from the torture so that she felt like she was merely watching as all the glorious memories she had shared with the red haired, blue eyed boy filtered across her mind.

Then it all stopped. The curse had been lifted and the cruel eyes of Belatrix gleamed at her once more, hope flicking across her dark, sullen eyes. She believed that she could break this Mudblood, break Harry Potter once and for all.

"Enjoy that did we mudblood?" the female Death Eater taunted, wand still pointed directly at Hermione, "now, from what I've heard you're supposed to be fairly bright so lets see if you're brain has finally told you to answer my question. How did you get this sword?" she snarled and this time Hermione willingly answered.

"It's a fake, the real ones still in your vault I…I swear," she pleaded, trying to sound believable as she allowed tears to fill her eyes. Hermione realised that if she was ever going to see Ron again, feel the warmth of his touch, hear him say her name when he wasn't yelling out in an attempt to save her, she would have to make Belatrix believe her. The crazed Death Eater merely smirked and raised her wand again,

"Liar! CRUCIO" she screeched as the pain overcame Hermione once more.

This time she was ready for the pain and her brain set to work at fighting back immediately. His voice, sounding so broken, so full of pain, screamed her name again and again, urging her to keep fighting, making her believe that she was important. That she was needed. She could remember clearly every compliment he had ever given her, even those from first year that had seemed more begrudging then anything else, as her mind quickly separated itself from the pain allowing her to fight back, almost block the spell. His voice covered her like a warm blanket, without knowing it the goofy, gangly Ron Weasley was keeping her safe, keeping her alive. All the times he made her laugh, all the times she had saved her, protected her were lighting her heart as the excruciating pain hit her once more, forcing her to emit an ear-splitting scream as her whole world began to fade once more. As a fog entered her mind and a black screen appeared to drift over her vision she heard one last scream filled with love and devotion buzz through the room before total darkness eclipsed her mind.

**Author's Note:** So I hope you liked this and tell me whether you think I should leave it as a one shot or not. Read and Review. Cheers!


	2. When you need that glimmer of hope

**Author Note: **So I decided I would add another chapter, maybe even a few more, to this story after I receives such positive feedback. Thanks to all my reviewers, your kind words mean so much to me!

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own anything. Damn these disclaimers make me depressed!

When you need that little glimmer of hope:

So much had occurred since she had met that little boy with dirt on his nose at the age of eleven. Both had changed so much, not just physically either. It was true that her hair was no longer as bushy and uncontrollable as it had once been and that her teeth were could no longer be labelled as bucked and that he was certainly not as lanky as he used to be, he had actually grown quite nicely into his height, and he no longer had dirt on his nose. But these small _physical_ things held little importance and, as clichéd as it sounded, it was how they had changed emotionally that really mattered. He was no longer the insecure, reckless little boy she had met at the age of eleven and she knew, and was happy to admit, that her annoying know-it-all attributes had lessened. They had grown together, learning together so that eventually they complimented each other perfectly. Though the logical Hermione told her that it was foolish to believe in things like fate, she knew deep within her heart that her and Ron were perfect for each other and that, if there really was such thing, they _were_ meant to be.

Knowing that he was calling for her, knowing that he was doing everything he could to come and get it was what kept her going as she drifted idly between the states of consciousness and unconsciousness. What amazed her more then the anything, much more then the answer to a particularly difficult homework question had ever amazed her, was that someone, someone who wasn't family loved her. Really and truly _loved her _and not because she was beautiful, she herself knew she wasn't, but just because she was her, for all her bookworm qualities and all her insecurities. Those small three words still hadn't been said but Hermione wasn't waiting for them, she knew she loved him and she just knew that he loved her back. So as the pain throbbed through her body, it was no longer merely a dull throb, she dreamed of Ron in all his read-headed glory. She relived all those small, beautiful moments they had shared this past year, all the times they had comforted each other. Despite the pain, the blinding, sickening sting searing through her body, she smiled inwardly and urged herself to fight on. She had to see Ron again, she told herself as she willed her brain to continue the fight.

Drifting again into the land of the living, Hermione blinked wearily and noticed that the situation had changed quite dramatically. For one she was now standing with a knife pressed firmly against her throat not yet breaking the skin. But Hermione barely recognised this all she could see was a flash of red hair, worried blue eyes and a paling freckly face, Ron. His eyes locked firmly on Hermione, a look of fear covering his entire face, he dropped his wand as that familiar feeling of desperation set in. Though she could barely see, though the pain that seemed to scream through her was taking hold once more, she could see the tears forming in her eyes and she could sense his internal battle. She wanted to run to him and tell him that everything would be alright, that, though he probably couldn't tell, she would be alright. A blur of words came to her ears but she couldn't distinguish what was being said but the heart breaking scream did reach her, he was in pain once more and she knew what that meant. _They're taking me away from him again_, Hermione thought as the world turned black once more.

A warm hand was steadying her, lifting her gently as it clasped her waist and pulled her towards a firm, comforting body. She couldn't open her eyes but she could feel a shiver run up her spine and she knew it was him. He was protecting her once again, keeping her safe…or was this just another dream. Was this her brain trying to help her, make her death a little less painful by allowing her to feel, feel _him_, once more? No, this had to be real, the electricity had never been this intense in her dreams and her heart had never beaten this hard before in a fantasy. Ron was holding her to him, running a hand through her hair as he twirled them around, her stomach turning inside out as they landed smoothly on soft land. She wanted to give him praise for successfully Apparating, for saving her life, but her mouth wasn't working. She would have smiled if her mouth would have allowed her to. He had saved her life again. She felt herself being lifted, his arms tightening more securely around her as his warm breath crept into her ear.

"It's going to be alright Hermione," he whispered into her ear, his lips brushing the lobe slightly sending a tingle of something quite different from pain through her body.

"Just hold on," he breathed out, "keep fighting, 'Mione. Please…I…I need…um…you…to keep safe so please wake up," he managed to chock out before placing a soft kiss on her cheek. It wasn't an "I love you" but it ignited something within her as she drifted in to sleep in the arms of the man she loved.

Opening her eyes the first thought that occurred to Hermione was that the light was unnaturally bright before the dull, thumping pain took over once more as she attempted to sit up. Then she felt the heavy lump on her lap and the rough hand in her own. _Ron_. She smiled inwardly to herself as she looked down at the vibrant red hair littering her lap. Her heart began to beat faster as she realised that he had stayed by her side, keeping watch over her, the whole night. He cared about her more than she had ever imagined. He cared for her the way she cared for him and to him she was important and that was all that mattered. For the moment they had to worry about Harry and the Horcruxes. For the moment they couldn't be together properly. But they would. They would share that long awaited first kiss. They would get married and ride off in to the sunset together…well maybe it wouldn't be that perfect but it would work out because, as frivolous as it sounded, they were meant to be. He was her little glimmer of hope. He kept her grounded and he kept her going. So as the need for sleep took over once more, Hermione smiled widely, pushing through the pain that had singed her body.

**Author Note:** So, I'm pretty sure that will be the end but I'll go where ever my imagination takes me. Hopefully you enjoyed it but remember to read and review.

Cheers!


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