A/N: Beta thanks to Maerda.

Chapter 1- Wait Till Morning

"Gone! All gone! There's nothing left in that house. All three of them… dead!"

Mrs. Weasley listened as Mundungus and Remus gave their accounts of the event that took place at the Muggle house. Placing her head in her hands, she sobbed. How could this have happened?

It was nearly three in the morning. Everyone was asleep in the dark house of 12th Grimmauld Place. Those awake were only the adult members of the Order, excluding Fred and George.

It had only been an hour since they received the news. The Grangers. Dead. All three of them. Their house was burnt to the ground. The only remnant left was Hermione's wand, which had probably rolled away when she tried to defend herself. The Aurors had found their dead bodies in three separate rooms. Hermione had been tortured the most. The Aurors believed that not only was she raped by the Death Eaters, but she was also given the 'Crucio' curse a number of times. Several Aurors were being sent to take care of the Muggles living in the area.

"How could this have happened, Arthur? They were innocent!"

"I know, dear. But Hermione was a target after all. We just didn't think they'd do it so soon."

Molly Weasley had always thought of the Granger girl as one of her children. Never could she have guessed that she would loose her so easily. The plump old woman wiped more tears from her eyes as she straightened up. "I think I'm heading up."

Her husband nodded and gave his wife a swift kiss on the cheek before letting go. Still sobbing, she slowly climbed up the rickety stairs of the old house. The figures in the paintings watched as she walked along the quiet corridor. Some giving her confused looks while the rest slept on.

She stopped at her son's door. Trying her best to not make any noise, she carefully opened the wooden door.

And there he was, sleeping so peacefully on that ragged bed by the-boy-who-lived. She watched as his chest heaved up and down, in tuned with his breathing. So innocent was her child. How could she bear watching him react to the news a few hours from now?

A few more tears rolled down her cheeks as she carefully sat on his bed, gently brushing his copper red hair away from his eyes. Her son stirred at the touch, but nonetheless went on sleeping. She snorted softly. Why were all the Weasley men such heavy sleepers?

Her heart contracted yet again as she continued watching her youngest son. She could not help the loud sob that escaped. She knew her son would take the news badly. Unbeknownst to them, Hermione and Ron shared a deep bond. Bending down slightly, she kissed her son's forehead.

It was then that she felt her hand grazed something glossy. It was a picture sticking out from under his pillow -- a picture of a girl. Instantly her hand flew to her mouth as more tears flooded her vision. It was a picture of a lonely Hermione Granger, sitting under a tree by the Hogwarts Lake, knitting what seemed to be a scarf.

Mrs. Weasley could not help but smile through her tears. She always knew Ron had feelings for the girl. Ever since the summer after his fifth year, Ron complained about his friend's unshapely hats and scarves. Mrs. Weasley had told him that it was a good thing that Hermione knitted, since she needed someone to continue her Weasley jumper tradition. She hadn't thought that her thick son would get the hint, but she did catch his ears reddening.

"Mrs. Weasley?"

Her head turned towards the voice, surprised at the intrusion of her memory. It was Harry. Harry Potter. He was in a sitting position on his bed, his hand clutching his spectacles.

"What's wrong?" He stared at the picture in her hand. Recognition passed his face as his eyes snapped back to her.

The old woman sniffed and moved over to the other boy's bed. "Come here, dear."

As the boy complied, Mrs. Weasley placed a loving kiss on his forehead. She debated whether she should break the news to Harry at that moment. She knew that Harry would again blame himself, so she decided to let the boy rest for now.

Heaving a deep sigh, she stood up and replaced the picture under Ron's pillow.

"Go to sleep, dear."