Ron walked beside Hermione as they followed Fred and George to Professor McGonagall's office, nervous and admiring the way Hermione held her head tall even in the face of whatever it was that was causing McGonagall to look "grim" as Fred had told them she did.
None of them spoke the whole way there, and Fred and George left them as soon as they'd knocked on McGonagall's door without so much as a goodbye. Ron looked over at Hermione and she returned his look of thinly-veiled anxiety with a small smile of encouragement. He couldn't help but feel a little warmer and less nervous.
McGonagall opened the door and her expression confirmed what Fred had said. "Grim" was possibly the only word to describe how she looked. She looked almost as though she were about to tell them that their puppy had died.
McGonagall stepped aside and Ron followed Hermione into the room, stiffly. They positioned themselves, still as statues, in front of her desk, waiting to be told whatever it was she had for them. Ron watched McGonagall intently as she sat down behind her desk and looked up at them, and was quite startled when he suddenly felt the cold grip of a small, soft had on his wrist and heard the smallest of gasps escape his friend's mouth.
He turned to Hermione and, before he could ask what was wrong or why her mouth was gaping open in surprise, she pointed to something in the corner of the room. Ron looked up to see a table with four chairs positioned around it and unconscious girls occupying two of them. Slowly, Ron and Hermione turned back to look at McGonagall, their senses on high alert and ready to defend themselves. A thousand possibilities ran through Ron's mind, each as unlikely as the rest, and he could almost feel Hermione's mind working even harder right beside him.
"Erm – Professor..?" Hermione began. "What's going on?" she asked tentatively.
Ron moved his hand slowly to his wand pocket, ready to pull it out should McGonagall turn out to be a dark wizard in disguise or herself having gone rogue. He couldn't fathom the idea, but he knew in normal circumstances a well-respected teacher did not keep unconscious students in her office.
"Relax, Weasley, Granger," McGonagall said, her eyes narrowed on Hermione's hand and Ron could tell she'd had the same ideas he did. "You all are needed for the second task."
"What?" Ron blurted out, "I can't hold my breath for – " he began, and stopped only when Hermione's small foot came down on his larger one.
"How exactly are we needed? We can't compete, we're not champions!" Hermione reasoned.
Ron bit back a smile at Hermione's bossy tone, knowing she didn't mean to use it and wasn't aware she had.
"You'll not be competing," McGonagall stood up and walked around her desk and over to the table. "This," she pointed to a mane of black hair obscuring the face of a girl who looked about their age, if not a little older, "is Cho Chang. This," she pointed to a sheet of silvery blonde hair that belonged to a petite young girl, "is Gabrielle Delacour. For this task, the champions are required to delve into the Black Lake, as you two seem to have found out already," she eyed Ron, knowingly, and he did his best not to cringe under her gaze, "and they are required to find their person or 'treasure' of sorts and rescue them in order to win."
Ron felt confused. Cho was obviously there because she was Cedric Diggory's girlfriend and Gabrielle was obviously Fleur's sister, but why did they have 'treasures' for Harry? Did they just decide they meant equally as much to Harry? That didn't seem fair. Just because Harry has lots of friends they have to make it hard on him?
He tuned back in to what McGonagall was saying as she opened the door and was about to leave them. "… I'll just be one moment." She shut the door and they heard faintly "PEEVES!" a few crashes, and then silence.
"So… Harry has to save us?" Ron asked Hermione as they both sat down at the table.
"Harry has to save you," Hermione said, quietly. He looked up at her and noticed a slight pink tinge to her cheeks. "Viktor has to…" she trailed off as realization hit Ron and felt a surge of anger and… something else.
"Oh, Viktor does, does he?" Ron began, feeling oddly vexed about the fact that Hermione called the famous Viktor Krum by his first name only, as if she'd known him for years. She didn't know him at all. And Viktor certainly didn't know Hermione enough to 'treasure' her, did he? Ron's mind swam with all the possibilities of what could have happened during the Yule Ball or in the days after that he simply didn't know about. He opened his mouth, about to explode with as much as he could possibly come up with about "fraternizing with the enemy" when Hermione cut him off.
"Please, don't do this now, Ron," she whispered.
Something in her voice shut Ron up immediately. Rather than the frustration and exasperation he had expected to hear in her voice, he detected something else.
Fear.
Ron felt his anger melt away and a sudden urge to protect her gripped him tighter than anything he'd ever felt before. He'd always admired Hermione for her bravery – there was a reason she was put into Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw, and he knew she was tough as steel – and he felt that he respected her no less even as he saw a vulnerability in her eyes he'd never seen before. Looking into their deep brown depths, he felt his face soften and could see the slight relief in her eyes as he scooted his chair slightly closer to hers.
"There's nothing to worry about, Hermione," he said, reassuringly. "Whatever they're going to knock us out for, they'll be sure to keep us safe and wake us up when it's over. You know that, right?" he said softly.
Hermione swallowed hard and met his eyes, determinedly. "I know, I just… I've come to terms with one of my friends putting himself in harm's way, I don't know if I can handle you doing it too."
Ron couldn't help but smile at this.
"What are you so happy about?" Hermione asked, sharply, her pale face turning slightly red.
"You," he sighed. "I thought you were scared of being hurt but no, you're…. You're worried about me and Harry."
"I'm always worried about Harry, he's always in danger! I just don't want to have to think about what might happen to you too!" she stood up, her face turning redder by the second.
"Woah, woah, calm!" Ron stood up, speaking in a calming voice. He knew Hermione was up for a shouting match, but he didn't want the warmth he felt spreading through him to leave just yet, and he knew he need her back to her original mindset in order to get her to open up to him.
He stepped forward and grabbed her hand that was clenched into a fist at her side. He saw a slight twitch in her expression as if she wanted to soften it but was determined to have an all-out brawl in the middle of McGonagall's office.
He covered Hermione's petite hand with his and held it to his heart. "I promise not to let anything hurt either you or me so long as I live," he stated, looking directly into her eyes and watching a softness spread throughout the brown pupils despite the look of anger she was trying so hard to maintain.
Still holding her hand, he led her back over to the table and they both sat down. He rested the back of his hand on the table and hers remained perched lightly atop it as they began speaking.
"Ron – " she began.
"No, Hermione, listen."
She stopped talking, but he felt her hand shake slightly in his.
"I'm going to make sure whatever we're doing is safe before I allow them to do it to you."
"But I won't let them put you in danger either, I –" she began, and cut off abruptly, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.
Slightly disappointed that she had broken the eye contact that had him almost breathless, Ron continued. "They're not going to hurt us. We're not champions, we didn't sign up for this. We won't be put in danger simply because we mean something to the people they're allowed to hurt."
Hermione surprised Ron by taking her hand out of his, leaning forward, and putting her arms around his neck. She rested her head on his chest and took a deep breath. She didn't need to say anything for Ron to know how grateful she was for his reassurances.
She pulled away after what seemed to Ron like no time at all, and he immediately felt a sudden sense of loss. Taking a deep breath, she smiled a little and said proudly, "Look at you being the logical one. You're completely right. They wouldn't hurt yo – us. They wouldn't hurt us. We'll be perfectly safe."
Ron smiled and just then McGonagall walked in.
"My apologies for that. Peeves should not be bothering us again tonight," she assured them. She then proceeded to explain to them that she would be bewitching them to fall asleep and then to breath underwater. They would awaken only when they broke the surface of the lake.
"Mrs. Granger, are you ready?" McGonagall asked, drawing her wand.
Ron felt Hermione's determination as she gathered herself and raised her chin high. "Yes, Professor."
Ron felt Hermione's cold hand slip into the warmth of his and he gave it a slight squeeze as McGonagall cast the spell. Hermione fell forward and Ron caught her and gently lowered her head onto the table.
Ron then turned to Professor McGonagall and confirmed that he, too, was ready.
He laid his head on the table and soon fell into a deep sleep.
Before McGonagall exited her office to find Dumbledore and tell him she'd prepared the hostages, she turned to look back at the table they slept at. A smile formed on her lips as she took note of the way the two fourth years slept facing each other, hand in hand.
