Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. Blah, blah, blah.

Prologue

Ron and Hermione were being shipped to Azkaban. They were not the first to go and they would not be the last. Too many Order members had already been betrayed into the hands of the Dementors at Azkaban. It was quite plain to any who were not keeping their heads in the sand that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were pulling the puppet strings of the Ministry of Magic. Not so much as one Death Eater had been sent to Azkaban in the past five months, but it seemed that more and more of their adversaries were finding themselves exiled to that dread island.

"At least we might see Harry again," Ron tried to look on the bright side. His comment did not succeed in cheering Hermione.

"Not likely," she answered, dejection evident in her tone, "I'd wager they'll want to keep us separate as much as possible- until of course they've broken us..." she lapsed into silence.

Ron sighed, he wished that there was something he could do for her. They had come to depend on each other more and more over the course of the year. With Harry and so many of the other Order Members locked away at Azkaban, they hadn't had many other places to turn. Ron had fallen in love with Hermione. He finally admitted it to himself. He would die if anything happened to her- but not until he made the person who hurt her pay with their own life.

His thoughts ambled along directionlessly for a while before he found himself thinking about his sister. Poor Ginny. He knew she was in love with Harry. Everyone did. He smiled ruefully to himself, Ginny had loved Harry since the first moment she set eyes on him. It had devastated her when he was taken. And now Ron and Hermione couldn't even be there to help her get through the hard time.

Ron looked over at Hermione. She was pale and gray with dark circles underneath her hollow eyes. Her hair was scraggly and unkempt- they had both been in custody at the Ministry of Magic for several days (Ron wasn't quite sure how many) waiting for their trial. Neither had been allowed to bathe in all that time. Or to testify. The ministry seemed to have given up even the pretence to holding fair trials. It was common knowledge that anyone sympathetic to the Order's cause risked being sent to Azkaban. Many Hogwarts professors had been forced to go into hiding. Not a soul had seen hide or hair of Dumbledore and McGonagall in at least two months. Others were missing too, but there were rumours that not everyone had disappeared of their own accord...

"Hermione," Ron tried to get her attention, "Hermione, I think we're almost there," she didn't answer. Ron was worried about her. She had been treated even more poorly than he had. He wasn't entirely certain what had been done to her, but clearly it was nothing good. He wished he could take away her pain.

"Hai!" he called to the nearest of their guards, an auror with a slightly glazed countenance. It didn't take any great mind to see that the man was clearly out of his head, probably under Imperius, "Hai, you stupid git!" he called again. The man didn't respond. His brain had probably become damaged trying to fight off the Imperius curse. It affected some people that way. Ron had tried of and on during the interminable boatride to the dread island of Azkaban to attract his attention, all to no avail. Now he satisfied himself by simply insulting the feeble minded pawn. He probably didn't really deserve it. He had probably been a good man and a good auror before his brain had been fried, but Ron was past caring, "Mind untying me, would you?" he continued, "My nose had got an itch. Hai! I'm talking to you!" he struggled a bit in his bonds, "Well, if you won't untie me, then would you come over here so I can kick you? I think I might be able to manage enough leverage to knock your jewels up your throat!" he looked over at Hermione. Part of the reason he continued to try and provoke the guard was to coax a smile out of her. O at least some type of reaction. She was withdrawing further and further into herself as they drew nearer to Azkaban. Nearer the beginning of the trip, she would at least talk a little with him. Now she was a still statue.

Ron stomped his legs in frustration and almost threw himself off balance- they were manacled together and his arms were cuffed behind him. He dearly wished that he had throttled Draco Malfoy when he had the chance. If the bloody ferret hadn't tattled to his father after discovering that Ron and Hermione were involved in a plot to free the Order members trapped in Azkaban, they wouldn't be here. At least he hadn't known about the others...

Ron was bored out of his mind. He needed something to keep it occupied. He could see Azkaban in the distance. It was still just a speck, but it was moving closer by the minute. Ron began to sing. The only song he could think of at the moment was an irritating muggle song taught to him by Harry during their first year. Irritating suited his mood right at that moment.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall!

Ninety-nine bottles of beer!

If one of those bottles should happen to fall,

Then that's a waste of alcohol!

Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall..."