From a Different Point of View

by Remembrance

Hermione has a mysterious spell cast on her, and Ron and Harry must fight to save a dying friendship. Here it is for all of you. It was my first ever post, and I haven't yet mastered perfect grammer or normal paragraph structure. Bear with me.

From a Different Point of View
Ashlie Kauffman


Author's note: I don't own anything, anybody, any phrases or characters or any such thing. This story is based on the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. I think that covers it. Now, about the story at hand. They never do them from Ron's point of view- I haven't read a single one! And my love for fanfic has sent me out onto the web many a late night looking up stories. So here it is- a feeble, first-time attempt. Enjoy!

I stepped into the station and felt that trill. That silly, childish trill I had gotten every single year since I began at Hogwarts. The station milled with so many people of every shape, size and color, and the noise, oh the noise of bustling people and luggage wheels. There were the business men with their briefcases, coffees and papers, the housewives trekking into "the big city" for a shopping trip to Harrods, the large families lead by harried looking mothers, pulling carts full of luggage and carriages full of screaming children on their way to a much needed holiday, and scattered among the crowds and chaos, the important looking guards with their walkie-talkies and shiny plastic badges. King's Cross Station. The beginning of my journey.

Here and there, weaving through the crowds, you could spot them, making valiant attempts at normalcy. Lugging the oversized, outdated trunks, carrying owls or cats or toads, shoving wands out of site. No one but a wizard would ever spot a wizard, and I loved to watch them all.

We were late, same as every year, and the rushed, anxious atmosphere was welcome, to me anyway. We made quite a site, I know it, with the 5 trunks, and the red hair. Oh my flaming red hair. Do you know what it's like to be known by your hair? Anyway, that is not our story, so I'll continue. We made quite a site as we hurried along, full speed, until we reached the wall. I stopped short with the rest and looked towards my mother. She nodded- I would go through first.

I nearly laughed at myself, I knew that I looked funny jogging lightly towards a solid brick wall, but it was necessary. Where the brick should have hit my body and tore my skin, it melted away like butter, and I found myself standing at platform nine and three-quarters. Bright scarlet smoke swirled around the people; many already changed into their standard Hogwarts garb. I turned and saw Fred, George and Ginny all come through at once, followed immediately by Mom and Percy.

"Hurry, hurry" she cried, "You'll miss the Express." She pulled all 5 of us up at once, in a great bear hug, then shoved us away from her. "Do remember to write- boys, look out for Ginny! Ginny, keep an eye on the boys, understand? No trouble, all right? I'll be looking for owls! Good-bye!"

I heaved my trunk up into the luggage compartment and sighed. Hogwarts Express. I felt like I was already home. My first thought was Harry and Hermione- they had to be here somewhere. I was beside myself as I began to search for them, my very best friends for 4 years now. Starting our fifth together was something I had been looking forward to since the beginning of summer.

I walked slowly down the hallway, peeking into each of the alcoves on my way. I caught sight of Neville, Lavender, Seamus and Goyle (gross) before I finally found them.

"I'm sure he made it- he's probably just...helping Ginny with her trunk or something," I could hear a tone of anxiety in Harry's familiar voice.

"Oh I really hope so," the higher, still worried voice answered, "The trains been moving for nearly 5 minutes now."

"Looking for somebody?" I stepped out of the shadows and into the arms of an overjoyed Hermione.

"We were SURE you missed the train Ron!" she exclaimed, slowly pulling back from me,

"You took your time getting here"

"Well its my family- what do you expect? We were out of Floo powder and we had to run and borrow some from the neighbors...and then Ginny had to go back for her wand...the Fred set of a Filibuster's in the station and Mum had to yell at him for 5 minutes...pretty much a normal family trip"

"God, this summer was hell, you don't have any clue how good it is to see you," Harry gave me a quick, barely-touch-each other guy type hug, and leaned back into his seat. He had grown taller, much taller over the summer. His voice was a tad deeper too. But then, same to me. I wondered how different I looked to them.

I sat down next to Hermione and looked her. Wow, she looked VERY...I don't know what she looked. Stuff on her eyes, stuff on her lips, and her hair- it was straight!

"Hermione, what happened to you?" I demanded

"Huh? Ohhhh, yeah, I forgot you guys have never seen this. My mom's summer project was to turn me into a "normal teenage girl." She of course didn't listen to my perfectly obvious argument that I'm NOT a normal teenage girl, so I'm stuck. The make-up will wash off, and without her to nag me about wearing it, won't be a problem. But my hair, that's permanent."

"Well, I never said it looked bad, just very different" I was staring with interest at this new Hermione. She blushed and quickly changed the subject.

"What about you Harry? How was your summer?"

"Same as always- horrible. Dudley is shorter than I am now, but he's still fat as anything. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon fought the entire summer, and I basically stayed up in my room. They took my broomstick and cauldron, but I hid my books so at least my homework's all done. You know, I think I'm going to try and figure out some way to stay at Hogwarts over the summer. I really can't stand it there anymore." He leaned back, and looked horrible. I felt sorry for him, and thought I'd probably end up inviting him to stay next vacation. It had been fun the last time we did it.

"But hey, look at the bright side," Hermione piped up, "We're almost at Hogwarts now- an entire year until you even have to think about it again"

Harry smiled and stretched his arms over his head. "You're right. I can't wait."

The plump witch with the foot cart made her appearance, and Harry treated us all to pumpkin juice and Chocolate Frogs. We munched in contentment, and were quietly looking out our windows when Ginny came in, Seamus in tow.

"Hi there everyone!" She smiled brightly and sat down next to Harry. Seamus squished himself down next to her, and cautiously put his arm around her shoulders. I burned with anger- what was he doing? I waited for her to brush him away, or switch places with Harry, but she only smiled at him and asked for a sip of my juice. I stood up to say something, but

Hermione quickly jumped up and cut me off.

"Um, Ron, I need to uh, show you something. Out here. NOW." She grabbed my arm and hauled me away.

"Ron, don't you dare embarrass her!" she looked at me sternly.

"Hermione! She's my LITTLE sister! She's only-"

"Fourteen years old Ron, one year younger than us. And she's allowed to do what she wants. She had a crush on Seamus almost all of last year-"

"How do you know that?" I asked crossly

"Well who do you think she talks to about that sort of thing? She hardly has an older sister to turn to! Anyway, she's finally getting what she wants, and you can't ruin that for her. Promise me you'll behave yourself when we go back in there. Promise me."

"Fine," I muttered, and allowed myself to be lead back in. I noted Hermione taking the seat across from Seamus before I could, and she gave me one last stern look.

"We're nearly there," Harry said loudly into the tense silence that followed.

"Good, I'm ready to get out of this compartment," I said, with a pointed glance at Seamus. Hermione kicked me while staring sweetly in my direction. Just then a loud whistle sounded and the train came to a halt. We were at Hogsemede Station.

The whole ride to the school I complained about Ginny and Seamus. I know I was being childish again, but it was so weird! Ginny? A boyfriend? It didn't seem right at all. Harry laughed at me and Hermione lectured me and by the time we reached the huge front doors, it was almost as if we had never left.

The second we stepped inside, the mindless chatter stopped. Even the seasoned seventh years who had entered the building countless times were awed by the beautiful building they had not laid eyes on for a whole two months. Hurrying past us were the pale, nervous first years. I had flashback of a younger me, with a younger Harry by my side, walking down the same hall, seeing for the first time the same ghosts, feeling the same things. I flashed a little girl an encouraging smile.

Years two through seven filed into the Great Hall, and everyone tipped back their heads to gaze at the starry night sky depicted in the ceiling. It never ceased to amaze me, the magic that flowed and throbbed through the veins of this wonderful school.

"Ron!" Hermione snapped me out of my thoughts with an elbow in the ribs, and I followed her to the Gryffindor table. Sitting back in my old seat flanked by my two best friends. It was the only way to be.

Then of course, I was shocked into reality, remembering all too well that nothing is ever ALL good. There's always the one spoiler, the one thorn in the side of all. Good ole' Draco Malfoy. I glared at him across the hall, and he returned my look of evil pit for pat. At least I didn't have to hear his whinny voice yet. I turned to Harry, and he had spotted his nemesis as well. Hermione followed our glances and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Are you two already in fight mode? Ignore him will you? I don't feel like having to discuss or even acknowledge him yet."

"Fine, whatever," Harry reluctantly turned away and faced her.

"But I don't want to hear later when he begins to bug you," I warned her.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, thinking or resting or something, I don't know what. But all the sudden she looked very young, almost like the child she had been when we first met. I chuckled and poked her in the stomach. She let out a little shriek of laughter, but stopped suddenly as the room quieted. Enter Albus Dumbledore.

All eyes were on him as he swept up to his spot at the head table. He grinned warmly at Professor McGonagall and she lead the shaking, huddled first years to the front. I allowed myself a smile of recognition when the Sorting Hat was placed on the stool at the head of the line. It seemed like centuries ago that I had been placed in Gryffindor, and I remembered the elation of the cheers and whistles, and the excitement of my then-new best friend. What was with the flashbacks and me? I shook my head like a dog shaking away water, and focused on the students running off towards their houses. With each new addition to Gryffindor I cheered and clapped like the rest.

After sorting, the announcements and the feast, I followed Percy (Head Boy still) up the staircases, through the tapestries and secret hallways until we reached the familiar Fat Lady painting. Hermione and Harry were talking behind me, but I was oddly tired. It had been a big day, and, however exciting and anticipated, had worn me out. I collapsed into the squishy armchair nearest to door, Hermione and Harry taking the couch across from me.

"Home sweet home," Harry murmured, drinking in the comfortable, circular room. The muted gray and white tones, the roaring fireplace and the beautiful tapestries looked no different then they had the day we left them last term. Hermione grinned towards the table where she always did her homework, and I chuckled at Fred and George, who where already plotting something with their friend, Lee Jordan.

"Wonder when they'll hand out schedules?" mused Hermione out loud.

"Still got that one track mind, eh?" I laughed at her.

"No, you guys will be really proud. I took a lot less courses then last year; I have the same amount of work as you guys do. I keep trying to slow things down, but you guys will tease me no matter how much I do, so I don't know why I bother trying!" She looked slightly hurt at my jab, and I remembered how sensitive she always was.

"Come on Hermione, you know Ron was just kidding. And really, it's very good that you're slowing down a bit. You nearly had a nervous breakdown at the end of last term, and lets not forget that little episode in our third year," Harry put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she clamed down.

"Well," I announced in a tired voice, "I'm off to bed. It's been such a looooong day, and I'm tireder-"

"Not a word," mentioned Hermione absentmindedly

"Tireder," I repeated, "then I have been for a while. 'Night!"

"Wait, I'll come too," Harry got up and stretched his arms above his head.

"Well, if you two are leaving me, I'll turn in as well. Might as well get our rest, we have to face Snape in the morning," she reminded us ruefully.

"Ugh, did you have to remind me? Now I'll have nightmares!" Harry held his stomach mockingly.

"'Night goofball, 'night Ron!" Hermione blew us a kiss from the stairs, then ran back up to her dorm. Harry and I were asleep before our heads hit the pillows.

The next morning dawned bright and early. I groaned as I opened my eyes, but then remembered where I was and jumped up excitedly.

"Harry, get up! Come on Harry," I went over and shook him, too hard I guess cause he rolled off the bed and awoke with a start.

"Wha- huh? Ohhh, morning, right, right" He rubbed his sleepy eyes and groped along the night table for his glasses. I was already pulling a tee shirt on, and was fully dressed by the time he was even getting up off the floor.

"What are you going so fast for?" Harry questioned through a mouthful of toothpaste.
I truthfully didn't know, and told him so.

"OK, whatever," he muttered grumpily, still not fully awake.

"I'll meet you in the common room, OK?" I asked as I jumped down the flights of stairs. I ran down and saw Hermione, reading quietly in a corner armchair. I snuck, as quietly as possible, up behind her and grabbed her sides. Her scream made me almost fall over.

"Shh, shh, Hermione, its only me."

She spun around with a malicious look on her face. "You scared me SO BAD," she hissed.

"Oh calm down- it was a welcome back to school present, from yours truly." She gave me another look, but I could tell she was suppressing a smile. She leaned back into her chair and picked up her book.

"You can't be reading school books already can you?" I demanded, snatching it away.

"No, thank you very much," she sniffed, taking back her book, "It's a Muggle story, and a beautiful one at that. More of my mothers refining techniques, although I have to admit that I don't mind this one. "

"Little Women?" I asked quizzically.

"It's so pretty. I don't fell like explaining it to you, you wouldn't understand or appreciate it." I thought that was a little harsh but shrugged and turned to Harry, who had just joined us.

"Come on, let's go, we're going be late for breakfast." He stood up and looked expectantly at an absorbed Hermione.

"Oh well," I started loudly, "if she wants to miss the handing out of schedules, that's fine with me."

Hermione jumped up and began down the hallway, glaring at a laughing Harry as she stalked ahead of us. We ran to catch up and started together towards the Great Hall.

"Hey Hermione, did you know you shrunk over the summer?" Harry asked. Although I was always taller than my friends were, I had grown and so had Harry. Of course Hermione had already had all her growth spurts, and was the short one.

"I didn't grow, and its not my fault I hit puberty before you," she shot back, and it was my turn to snicker. She sure was defensive today.

"Come on Shortyfries, we're going to be late." Harry grabbed her hand and dragged her along faster, me following close behind.

After a quick breakfast, and the much awaited schedule distribution, us Gryffindor students hurried off to the gut wrenching course they started the day off with. Yes, oh yes, the worst of the worst, Potions.

"Starting the day with this class is going to be most hazardous to my health," I whined as we hurried down to the cold and gloomy dungeons.

"I'm not any happier about it," snapped Harry, juggling his books and wand.

We entered the classroom apprehensively, and practically ran to the Gryffindor side of the room. Snape was in a particularly good mood, which surprised everyone, but that didn't stop him from glaring at Harry and making fun of Hermione when she answered a question correctly. At least she didn't get upset. With him she didn't even bother.

After Potions there was Transfigurations, then Divination, which Hermione still refused to attend. She decided to continue with Arithmancy instead. After Charms we filed back into the Great Hall, happily munching away at the grilled cheese sandwiches and French fries.

Our classes were going reasonably well, aside from the abnormally hard Potions homework, and next were Care of Magical Creatures, with Hagrid. I couldn't wait. Neither could Hermione and Harry, all three of us being close to the giant of a man. We nearly rushed out of the Hall to the Main entrance, where the class met.

This year was going to be ten times better than the last, because instead of having it with Slytherin, Ravenclaw was the house that accompanied us. The class went very well, we began a series of lessons on unicorns, and the moving pictures that Hagrid had obtained of the beautiful creatures mesmerized us the whole class.

The rest of the day went rather quickly, and before I knew it, I was back in the Gryffindor common room, sitting next to Hermione and doing homework. I took a break and stared at Hermione. Instead of looking tired, like she usually did at the end of the day, she had that youthful expression on her face again. Harry looked contented too, but that might have had something to do with the announcement that Quidditch practices began next weekend. This year looked like it might just be a good one.

The year was moving along quickly, and things were shaping up well. It was mid-October, and fall was throbbing through the air. I was doing well in my classes, and I also had a new bone on my plate (is that the right metaphor? I hardly care. Anyway, on with the story.) Quidditch. I was the new house Keeper, and I was incredibly excited about our teams success on the practice fields. Our first match was only days away and we were against the Ravenclaw house. The team captain, Katie Bell, had us practicing until 9 every night, and with homework and classes I was 'tireder' then I had been for a while.

One night Harry and I came into the common room, drenched with sweat and covered in mud. My arm was really bothering me from earlier, when I had made a rather good save (if I do say so myself) and thrown out my shoulder blade. I was grumpily attempting to rub my back when Hermione came over to us.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite Quidditch players! How was practice?" Her cheery tones and rested face, for whatever reason, bothered me to no end.

"It was wonderful," I replied in a biting, sarcastic tone. Instead of being offended, like she had every right to be, she turned to Harry and asked, as if I wasn't there, "What happened to him?"

"Oh he just threw out his shoulder. It should be OK after a few days, but its hurting him something awful right now."

Hermione gave me a sympathetic look and walked around behind my chair. All of the sudden I felt two small, strong hands on my back, working my flesh around like it was claydough. She continued massaging my shoulder for several minutes, and it felt like Heaven on Earth. My shoulder muscles, previously seized up, were as free and supple as they had been the day I was born.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?!" I demanded as she took her place back next to Harry, who was staring openmouthed from her to me, her to me.

"My dad took massage classes in collage, and I used to have really bad back problems when I was a little girl. When he fixed my pain, I of course wanted to know exactly how it worked. Soon he had taught me everything he knew." She smiled smugly and cracked her knuckles.

"Oh," I was at a loss for words. The pain was totally gone. "Well, um, thanks."

After a few more minutes of talking, we decided to go to bed. Harry grabbed me the minute we were out of earshot.

"What was that all about?" he asked slyly.

"Huh?" I was seriously lost.

"The little massage thing? That was unexpected, huh? You sure enjoyed it. You should have

seen your face."

"Well, she was fixing my arm!" I protested, a little louder than needed.

"Suuuuuuure," Harry was the one wearing the smug look now.

"What are you saying Harry?" I demanded.

"Nothing. Everything. Is there something your not telling me?"

"No way Harry Potter!! You know I wouldn't keep secrets from you. You totally misread the whole thing. I don't want to hear anything more about this at all, ok? Lets just go to bed." I firmly sat down and gave him a look that left no room for argument. Looks on my face...what nonsense. Right? I felt like slapping myself, and Harry at that. I hated him for putting such thoughts in my head, right before bed even. I slipped into bed and prayed for sleep to come fast. It did. But with it came the dreams.

I was sitting in the dormitories, waiting for Harry to come out of the bathroom. I was dressed in only my pjs, as was Harry. All of the sudden, a piercing scream shot up from the common room below. It was short, but sounded like Death in sound-wave form. I jumped up, hearing something familiar in the shriek. Harry burst out of the bathroom and the two of us bounded down the stairs, jumping half the flight on our way. Laying in at the bottom of the passageway was a small, crumpled heap with lots of brown hair.

"Hermione," I groaned.

We rushed over to her side and tried to prop her limp body up. She was drenched from head to toe in sweat, shaking violently, and staring at us with blank eyes. I brushed her hair out of her face and she tried to open dry, cracked lips, but then she collapsed back. She was...
"BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG"

A loud alarm sounded and I sat straight up in bed. A dream, a dream. It was only a dream Weasley, now shape up, I scolded myself. Sighing angrily, I got up and got dressed quickly. The dream had shaken me up, and only one thing was sure. I wasn't going to tell anyone.
Classes dragged slowly, and I kept getting in trouble for spacing out. I couldn't the dream out of my head, and on top of that, my first house game ever was only two days away. So much for a peaceful year. My friends didn't seem to care about my daydreaming (if that's what you would call it), but even they seemed a little annoyed when Snape took 5 points from Gryffindor.

"Ron, what's with you today? Wake up, come on, whatever it is can't be that important," Hermione hissed message came accompanied by an elbow in the ribs. I shot her a look accompanied by daggers. If only she knew what 'couldn't be that important'. Nevertheless, I pushed the clouds out of my head and concentrated for the rest of the day.

That night at dinner, I noticed that Hermione wasn't eating anything. She looked a little weird, just kept staring at her hands, like she was tired. All of the sudden I remembered when I had seen her that way before.

"Hermione, have been getting to caught up in your schoolwork again?" I asked, shocked at just how much I sounded like my Mum.

"No," she said, somewhat weakly.

"Well, then eat up," I demanded, pushing her plate of rapidly cooling codfish towards her.

"I, uh, snacked to much today. Ginny shared some of her Chocolate Frogs with my, and I must have eaten to many. See that's the reason why. How foolish of me, heh heh." She hardly looked convincing, but we never kept secrets, so I figured I'd let her go on this one.

"Since there's really no reason for me to be here, I think I'm just going to go on up to the common room. Catch up on my reading. I'll see you there?" Without waiting for any response, she pushed away from the table and disappeared out of the Great Hall.

"What's up with her?" asked Harry.

I shrugged. "Dunno. Want some codfish?"

After dinner we had to run straight to practice, and were almost late, which I'm sure would have earned us a huge scolding. That Katie, she sure was strict, a but good coach. The practice went extremely well. The defense was shaping up, George and Fred got every Bludger they went for, and Harry was catching flying peanuts with his eyes closed. Things were defiantly looking up, on the Quidditch field anyway.

We jumbled into the common room as a team, a little sweaty and a little tired but mostly excited and confident of the upcoming game. Harry and I hit the showers at once, but too excited to go to bed went down to see what was going on in the common room. People were working on homework, talking, or watching George's infamous impression of Filch when he had caught the boys stuffing toilets with fireworks.

"Where's Hermione?" wondered Harry out aloud. We did a quick search, and I found her pretty soon.

"Over there," I jerked my head towards a couch in the corner, and we went over quickly. Hermione was curled up in a little ball, sleeping soundly despite the noise and action surrounding her.

"How longs has she been asleep?" Harry asked Ginny, who was sitting nearby, cuddling with Seamus in front of the fire. I considered saying something rude, but didn't feel like making a huge scene right then,

"Oh, just about all night I guess. She was like this when I came in after dinner."
Harry looked concerned. "She is asleep, right?" he asked anxiously, but I was already kneeling down next to her and shaking her awake. The heat radiating from her face almost made me jump.

"Harry, feel her forehead!" He looked a little scared at the sound of my voice, and leaned down next to me with a start.

"Oh my god she's burning up," he said incredulously.

"Huh? Wha- oh Ron, Harry. Sorry what were you saying? I must have dozed off or something." Hermione looked at us with sleep-clouded eyes.

"Hermione, come on, your sick, and going to bed."

"No, no, I'm not sick. I'm just cold. Can you get me a blanket or something?" She wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

"Hermione, your laying right next to the fire. You have a fever! Lets go, stand up." But Harry's firm pleas went unheeded. Hermione wouldn't budge.

"Fine, I've had enough of this." I reached over top of Harry and slipped my arms under Hermione's knees and shoulders. "Watch out," I warned as I lifted her over Harry's head and began to carry her towards the stairway to the girl's dormitories.

"Ron put me down," she mumbled, but was already falling back asleep in my arms.

"Uh, Ron? I think we better get Ginny- you don't want to get in trouble for going into her room." He was right, of course, but another thought hit my mind.
"How is she going to get her in there?" I asked irritably

"Well, why doesn't she come with us anyway? We can't very well put her pajamas on her. Ginny! Come 'ere!" Harry signaled to a very contented looking Ginny, who was none too happy to be interrupted.

"What do you wan-," she began grumpily, but stopped short at the sight or Hermione dangling from my arms. "What happened?"

"She's sick, she's got a fever or something. Ron and I are going to go get Madame Pomfrey, but we need your help, ok? Just help her into her pjs and watch her until we get back." Harry looked at her anxiously, begging her to help.

"Ok, but come on, hurry up, I don't want you too getting caught in here."
After a quick glance around, we rushed through the open door into the black of the darkened girls dorms. Ginny went over to a bed which I assumed was Hermione's, for it was very neatly made, with a tidy but large stack of books arranged on the night table. Ginny blushed when I caught a look at her area, which featured an unmade bed and was strewn with several changes of clothes.

"Over here, drop her down, ok," Ginny started taking off Hermione's shoes. "Before you leave, will you grab her pjs? Third drawer down, I think its a green nightgown? Yeah toss it over here. Ok thanks guys, you should go get Madame Pomfrey now, she's really out of it."
We turned and left the room, a thousand things in our minds. Finally I broke the silence with the thought lying most heavily on my brain.

"I wouldn't think of Hermione as the type who would wear a silk nightgown, would you?" I grinned over at Harry, who burst out in laughter at my totally off subject comment. We continued chuckling a little while longer as we walked through the dark halls, not really wanting to fact the real mindblower: what had happened to Hermione?

"Seriously though," Harry began, "she was fine in Potions, she yelled at you and everything. And last night we both know nothing was wrong with her health."

"Shut up about that Potter," I began, exasperated, but my train of thought changed tracks in a flash. "You know, she was acting weird at dinner. She wouldn't eat, remember?"

"Yeah," said Harry slowly, "But what could she have caught that would affect her so fast? Hogwarts is protected from anything and everything more serious than the common cold." I could tell that once more we were thinking the same thing; what we'd seen upstairs just then was NOT the symptoms of any cold.

There was another long silence, and we were quickly approaching he hospital ward.

"Well, I really don't know what to say, other than I think that Madame Pomfrey will know what to do." I finally sighed, reaching up to knock on the door.

"Yes? Oh, its you," she said flatly, spying Harry, "What'd you do now? Was it Quidditch this time? No, no, you were probably off fighting some monster. Giving no care to your personal health, Dumbledore just letting you run about like there's nothing more carefree in the world

then freeing captives and battling snakes..."

I sniggered and Harry stepped up. "Well, actually, its our friend you see. She's sick, so sick

we couldn't get her here. She's in our house though..."

Madame Pomfrey looked intrigued. "All right, lead the way, I"ll grab my bag," she said, and began following us to the painting of the Fat Lady. We entered and the whole room went quiet, the sight of Madame Pomfrey scaring them all. Even the house teacher, Professor McGonagal had only been in a handful of times. I felt eyes burning holes in my back as we climbed the staircase, and from the uneasy look on Harry's face, he felt it too.

"Well, boys, this is were I take over and you leave. I suppose there's someone in there with her?" We both nodded. "Good then. Thank you so much, and do be so kind as to shut the door on your way out." As she swept away I caught a quick glimpse of Hermione, still pale and sleeping, curled up under the great, warm comforters on her bed. I sighed and slumped against the wall.

"This has been a weird past few days," I commented, rubbing my temples the way I had seen my father do sometimes when he came home from late night raids.

"Your telling me," Harry agreed, checking his watch. "Oh crap Ron, we'd better get to bed. Katie'll kill us- the games the day after tomorrow and we're still up!"

As we rushed toward our rooms, I could only hope that Hermione would be able to see us play.

The next morning dragged slowly on, with no word from anyone about Hermione at all. Ginny simply told us that she was still sleeping and that Madame Pomfrey had not yet diagnosed the illness. That, added to the rest of the current circumstances, made everything look very gray.

When Madame Pomfrey failed to figure out what was wrong with her, Dumbledore had been called in. After a long few hours, all of which were spent with Harry and I pacing furiously in the common room, he came out with a grave expression on his face.

"Boys, come here, we need to talk," he said in his quiet, mesmerizing voice. He led us out of the common room and through the corridors to his office. Normally, the phoenix bird and silver contraptions interested me to no end, but today was different. Our frightened feeling must have been readable on our faces, for he chuckled and began with, "Miss. Granger is just fine, awake and talking. In fact she should be able to come out of her room whenever she is ready." Our sighs of relief rang out in perfect unison, but he wasn't finished.

"We have pinpointed the cause of her illness, and it is very complex. She received, somehow, a Malnettoyner Hex. Its a layered curse that ultimately switches your personality. The effects make you slightly sick, then your personality begins to harden. Memories, feelings and friends slip away. Something in the Semianer wings make you begin to stop feeling physical pain as well. Eventually you have no feelings, an empty soul, perfect for filling with whatever the curser sees fit."

Something clicked in Harry's mind. "You mean," he began slowly, "that someone was trying to steal Hermione's soul?"

"No Potter," answered Dumbledore slower still, measuring the effect his coming words would have. "someone was trying to steal yours. We believe that the curse was sent telepathically, and Hermione was in the way when it was received."

Harry looked like he had been slapped. Then a look of realization spread like molasses over his face.

"Voldemort sent the curse, didn't he?" he asked in a trembling voice. I winced, hating the name with every part of my being.

"Yes, Harry, he did," came the soothing, quiet answer, "But do you understand why?"

"I don't," I cut in, finding my voice at last, "If You-Know-Who wanted to send Harry a curse, why not send him one that would kill him off?"

"Well, Ron, who ever said that Voldemort wanted to kill Harry off?" Dumbledore smiled at the confused, downright irritated looks on our faces. "My boys, think about it. Here is a family that is in the way. Everything is threatened from their constant interference. A strengthened Voldemort decides to go kill them off, get them out of the way. He finishes off the first part of the family, and closes in on the crying baby boy, his hunger for murder growing by the second. But something very, very wrong happens. The baby doesn't die. The baby, in fact, sets off a life force, a specter shield, that drains away some, not all, but some, of Voldemort's power. Now, weakened to shadow state, with not much else going on, he has a lot of time to think. To think about the pros and cons of this tiny baby boy who is stronger than him in infancy. Why would you kill of something with power that great and wonderful? Why would you want to ruin that once-in-an-all-too-short-lifetime chance? Even if he hadn't encountered Harry, Voldemort was never immortal. He knew he would die one day. Who's going to take his place though, my friends? That's what Voldemort is after."

"An empty, impressionable soul- of course! So he's not trying to kill me, just kidnap me and harness my powers?" Harry grimaced. "I think I'd rather die."

I had just thought of something equally unsettling. "So now is he going to try and carry out his plans through Hermione?" I asked with bated breath.

"Well, no, I truly don't believe so. She wasn't his target, so the curse will have a slightly less dramatic effect. But remember what I said earlier, about the soul being impressionable? We simply have to work extremely hard to keep Hermione happy. Try and make her feel at home, even though she will probably be mean and not welcome your attempts. Remember who she is on the inside, and together we can, in a way, save her."

Harry and I sat, quietly drinking in all we had heard. Everything was so jumbled up, so unbelievably complex. But poor Harry, the guilt he must have had. We sat in silence for a few more seconds and I tentatively asked, "So we just go on with life as normal, trying to make Hermione feel comfortable and happy, and hope for the best? No offense sir, but it sounds very risky." Waves of bravery and stupidity washed over me as I replayed what I had just said over and over in my brain.

"As it is, Weasley. But, if I am not mistaken, this would not be the first risky plot you have been a part of since beginning at the school, no? I wish you the best of luck and can assure you that us teachers will be looking out for you as well."

We left Dumbledore's office with fallen faces. I felt like a thousand large, dangerous birds had somehow found their way into my stomach, and were loudly clamoring to be let out. "I wonder how long it will take for her to be back to normal," I said in barely a whisper.

"Me too Ron, me too." Harry's voice was dripping sorrow as he muttered the password and climbed into the common room. It being a Saturday, most of the students that were old enough were in Hogsmeade for the day. A sizable group of first years were having an Exploding Snap tournament in the corner, over by the fire some boys were very loudly arguing about the outcome of a game of wizarding chess, and still more children were very into the Gobstones they were playing with. As my eyes swept lazily over the usual scene, I was snapped out of my sadness with a jolt. There, in the same chair as she had been the night before, was Hermione, wrapped in a blanket and engrossed in her book. I elbowed Harry and jerked my head towards the fire. I heard his sharp intake of breath, and nodded slowly, my eyes still on Hermione.

"So what do we do? Go and talk to her?" I asked

"Well yeah, that's what Dumbledore said- go on with life like nothing ever happened. Just try and keep the usual teasing down to a BARE minimum, OK?" He looked at me reprovingly.

"I'm not STUPID," I said crossly, then hurried over before he could say anything else.
If she heard us coming, she didn't show it. She just kept her nose buried and her eyes glued to the pages. I cleared my throat loudly. Nothing.

"Er, hello Hermione," Harry gave it a try. She lowered the book just enough to peer vaguely at the two of us, then resumed reading with renewed passion.

"That was effective," I muttered out of the side of my mouth.

"So, how are you feeling? You were pretty bad-" I was cut off her the almost silent sounds of Hermione gently resting her book on her lap and crossing her arms. She gave me a look that one might give a Band-Aid they have just found under their steak.

"Excuse me boys, but obviously, I have not made the fact that I am reading clear enough. Of course that must be it, because there is no other reason why you would so rudely interrupt my quiet, peaceful spot I've found. Not an easy task in this wretched place." She threw a contemptuous glare around the cozy common room. "Now, if you'll be so kind..." She lifted her book, and with one last evil glare, slipped back into whatever world she had been when we'd come over. I took a deep breath and signaled to Harry that we should leave. Her cool tone and icy stares hurt me, and I kept repeating in my head "Its not really her, its not really her." Harry looked stunned as well. Once we were a safe distance away, he collapsed and put his head in his hands.

"Man, this is going to be harder than I thought. What if she starts hanging out with Malfoy or something?" He looked stricken by the very thought.

"Calm down, calm down. Hopefully, and this is a weird thing to say, I know, but hopefully she'll act this way to everyone. Then everyone'll steer clear of her until it wears off." I couldn't tell if I was reassuring him or me.

"And what if it doesn't wear off Ron?" Harry looked at me expectantly, no doubt wondering how I'd snap back to this one.

"It WILL" I said firmly, and sat back. Suddenly I felt much colder than I had before.
Just then, the painting burst open and Katie Bell burst through. If looks could kill, I can assure you, I would not be sitting here telling you this today.

"Uh oh," I heard Harry mutter under his breath, checking his watch. We braced ourselves as she closed in.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?!" Katie shattered the silence with more vigor than any Howler ever could. "Quidditch practice has been delayed an entire HOUR waiting for you two! Tomorrow is the first game of the SEASON! RON'S FIRST GAME EVER!!!!" She whacked the two of us upside the head simultaneously, and then dragged us by our burning ears out of the common room.

Quidditch was, I must say, a savior for me that day. Although I was tired and the wind was very, very cold, the exertion took my mind off of everything muddled about in my life. To be able to focus on nothing but keeping the Quaffle from going through the goal posts was a precious relief. I could tell Harry felt the same way as I watched a golf ball tremble under his intense stare. After 3 hours of excellent practice, Katie signaled us down.

"Good work team!" She smiled enthusiastically at the sweaty, winded players before her. "I think we've got it down. Just get lots of rest, and make sure you eat tomorrow. You especially Ron. NO last minute jitters junk, OK?"

I nodded and wiped at the dirt that was trailing down my face. Showers. I needed a shower. Harry and I climbed out of the changing room, still clad in our dripping robes. Only when we were muttering passwords and climbing through the portrait did I allow myself to remember what I had allowed myself to forget.

Hermione was still in her same spot, new book in hand though. Life was teeming around her, beaming students just returning from their day of glorious fun, enthralled students finishing off their day-long wizarding game tournaments, contented students cuddling by the fire...wait, students cuddling by the fire? I stared, disgusted, at the shadowy forms of Ginny and Seamus, illuminated by the firelight, snuggling and giving each other tiny kisses. I angrily threw down my broom and was all ready to go make a huge scene when someone caught my robes and pulled me back with a snap of my neck and the telltale ripping sound of fabric.

"Don't do it Ron. Happy, comfortable atmosphere, remember?" Harry stared at me with a warning look on his face.

"So now that Hermione's gone your gonna take her place as resident Mommy, huh?" I muttered under my breath as he released me with a sigh.

"Lets not fight, all right? We're both stressed out, and we need to try our best to stay positive until all of this blows over. I hate to say this, but for tomorrow at least, I think it would be best to ignore her. I doubt we'll get any complaint from her, and lets face it, we really need to concentrate all our energy on the game."

I knew he was right, and told him so. We went up to the shower room, talking carefully about anything, dancing around on tiptoes to keep away from certain taboo subjects. The pressure of the hot water beating down on my muscles and washing the salt from my skin was relaxing, and I stayed until the water cooled and my entire body was shriveled as a prune. I quickly toweled off and ran into the dorm where Harry was waiting, staring absently out the castle window.

"What are you thinking?" I asked him, pulling on pajamas.

"Not much really. I just had an idea, but I don't know if-"

"Harry, just tell me." I joined him across the room.

"Well, what if there was a way to reverse the hex? I mean, we could look it up, at least. I know I'm being selfish but I just- I really don't want to wait for everything to just "blow over". Its not fair to us or to Hermione." We sat in silence for a moment, contemplating.

"Well, if there was a reverse, don't you think Dumbledore would have tried it?" I asked slowly.

"Yeah, but what if there was some reason he didn't want to? Maybe he doesn't even know about it! I don't know Ron, but I want to at least TRY. We have to do SOMETHING. If it was one of us that this had happened to, you know Hermione would have been in the library every waking moment, and dragging the other one with her. Even if we only do this in the old Hermione's memory, I still think we should go." Harry was getting rather red in the face, but for all his blathering, he had a point.

"OK," I agreed, and Harry jumped up eagerly. "Besides," I continued slyly, "just because we look it up doesn't mean we have to do anything about it. Who knows if we'll even find anything?"

"Right! OK, so should we go?" Harry started the door.

"Are you crazy? Kaite'll kill us! Whatever happened to focusing on the game? Tomorrow night, we'll do it."

Harry looked crestfallen, but I was the right one this time, so we settled down for what looked like a The morning of the match dawned bright, and for a few glorious seconds, my foggy mind recalled nothing of the hectic past few days. But then I rolled over, caught sight of my broom standing in the corner, and those huge birds from a few nights ago were back. I groaned and fell out of bed.


"Come on Ron, lets go. We've got to get some food into you- today's the big day!" Harry stood over me, fully dressed with a smug smile on his fully-awake face. I felt the urge to punch him, but it passed and I jumped up, trying to feign excitement.


"You're not nervous, are you?" He asked with a small grin as I pulled on a T-shirt and jeans for under my robes.


"Course not! I'm so pumped! We're gonna beat them into the dirt!" I punched my fist into my palm as I spoke.


"Suuuuure. I remember my first Quidditch match. I almost wet my pants, I was so nervous. But I was fine. Your a great Keeper Ron, and your gonna lead us to victory today."


Harry's words gave me more reassurance than any pre-game speech from Katie. I was still nervous, but those huge birds were beginning to shrink a little. I smiled my thanks, and together we headed down to the common room.


Down the stairs, we were greeted by the sight of Hermione, wrapped up in the same blanket, sitting on the same couch, reading a new book! She had a large stack of books next to her, and a cup of hot chocolate in her free hand. She looked as if she was planning to camp out in front of the fire forever.


"Does she even leave to sleep anymore?" Harry muttered to me, and I shook my head, bewildered. Then I remembered our promise to Dumbledore, and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"So Hermione, are you excited for the game today?" I asked in what I was trying hard to believe was a very casual, offhanded tone. I braced myself as she lowered the book in the same, slow fashion.

"The game," she repeated slowly, an odd mixture of disgust and amusement on her face.

"Do you really believe that I would take the time out of my day to tromp out with the rest of you silly fools, sit on a cold iron bench in the air and watch you boys fight over a golden walnut with wings? Oh my poor, poor boy." Her condescending chuckle and slow, even words were like icicles, sliding their way slowly through my heart.

"Besides," she continued, her words slightly muffled by the book that had regained its position in front of her face, "I can't very well miss my study session with Snape, now can I?" She grinned a final, evil grin and promptly began ignoring us again. Harry grabbed my shoulder and quickly hauled me out of the common room, shaking as much as I was.

"Oh my God, I don't know how we're going to handle this. She's acting like a female Malfoy!!" Harry leaned against the wall, eyes closed and mouth hanging open. I self consciously rubbed the edge of my broomstick along the wall, feeling like a stupid, reprimanded child. She was going to miss my first ever Quidditch game, the one I had been waiting for ever since I got my Nimbus for Christmas, so she could go study Potions with Snape? It was hard to remember that she was not doing this on her own account.

"I really wanted her to see me play," I began in a small voice.

"I know Ron, this is so messed up. I REALLY hope we find something in the library. It can't go on much longer." All of the sudden something popped into my mind like a camera flash going off in my brain.

"Oh my God Harry! Impressionable soul? Study sessions with SNAPE? She's going have him putting hate against us in her soul, even if she breaks out of it, what if he does permanent damage!? Ahh, this is very bad Harry. We can't let her go!!"

"Well, yeah, I see where your coming from. But Dumbledore said that the teachers would be helping us keep her happy and comfortable and everything. He wouldn't directly go against what Dumbledore specifically set forth, would he? I'm sure the staff will have a strict eye on him. Besides," Harry shifted uncomfortably before continuing, "we have the match today, and if we don't put our full concentration in…" He trailed off and glanced at his watch.

"We're going to be late. We have to put our trust in the teachers and wing it."
I stood still for a moment, trying to weigh my pros and cons, but I knew what had to be done.

"Well," I said in a would-be decisive voice, "lets play some Quidditch!"

We walked down to the Great Hall together, talking in falsely bright tones, forced springs in our steps. I fervently hoped that the game would turn out all right.

After eating just enough to satisfy Katie's watchful eye, I snatched up my broom and followed my brothers and Harry out onto the bright, windless field. Perfect weather again. The team seemed in high spirits, and Katie was in a slightly nervous, yet confident mood, and the Hufflepuff team was looking at us nervously. Everything would have been just right, if my stomach hadn't been trashing up and down like it was full of Mexican Jumping Beans. Harry gave me a knowing grin, and we walked down together to the changing room to pull on our scarlet robes.

"All right team, this is it. We've prepared, we've been over the drills, and damn it, we're ready for this. Lets go show the world what we're made of!" Katie threw her fist in the air and for a few seconds all you could hear from the underground room was the roar of a very motivated team.

"Come on guys!! Lets go!" Katie led our energetic team out on the fields. Swirling colors of scarlet and gold flapped in the breeze, and the cheers of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were overpowering. The birds made a final, furious attempt at escape as Katie shook the hand of the Hufflepuff team captain. Harry threw me a final, encouraging wink as we leapt upon our brooms. I swallowed a final, nervous lump in my throat as Madame Hooch's whistle pierced the atmosphere. It was time.

I soared up in the air and began haunting the goal post, darting back and forth in front of it like a cat chasing his tail. I kept my eyes firmly on the bright red Quaffle, as it shifted from player to player, team to team. So far, as soon as any Hufflepuff player had come close to the goal post, a Gryffindor had made a timely steal, but I knew my luck wouldn't last long. I listened as Lee Jordan's voice cheered us along, magnified by the magical megaphone he was commenting from. Score: Hufflepuff, 0, Gryffindor, 10. We were doing pretty well, but still, only one goal, and the Snitch was nowhere in sight. George gave me a wave as he furiously beat a Bludger away from my unsuspecting head. Then his eyes grew wide and I snapped around behind me to see Hannah Abbott, one of Hufflepuff's best Chasers, coming straight at me with the Quaffle firmly in her hand. I wonder what she saw in my eyes as she drew back and released the ball with unexpected fury. It gently twirled towards me, lazily, like in slow motion. For a sickening split second I didn't know what to do. Then I found my wits, threw my broom towards the siren red ball, and-

"WONDERFUL SAVE BY GRYFFINDOR'S BRAND NEW KEEPER, RON WEASLEY!! OLIVER WOOD COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT BETTER!! HUFFLEPUFF REMAINS SCORELESS!"

Lee's voice rang out over the stadiums, echoing around in my ears. 'Wonderful save' and 'Oliver Wood couldn't have done it better himself.' I knew he was over exaggerating, but still, the roar of the fans was one of the most wonderful things I had ever heard. Flushed and breathing heavily, I threw a hearty grin in the direction of Harry, sitting on his broom with a proud look on his face. I searched for Katie, and found her too looking down with a paternal pride. As the whistle for the game to continue broke my thoughts, I swelled inside.

After 'The Save,' I played with renewed vigor and newfound motivation. I stopped two more attempted scores before Katie called a time out. As the team rushed to the ground next to Madame Hooch, she began into her 'we've almost got them' tirade.

"Wonderful job there Ron, you too Alicia, nice score there. Smashing way to start off a game, eh? Now guys, we're incredibly close. We're up by thirty, and the Bludgers haven't had a chance to get close to anyone yet. I really think these next few plays could be crucial. Keep sharp, keep ready. Now get out there!"

The whistle sounded once more and we were back up in the air, seven scarlet blurs, whizzing about and covering our areas well. Katie and Angelina had a goal each before disaster struck. I still hadn't let a single Quaffle pass me, and was hurtling to avoid a Bludger when I saw it, out of the corner of my eye, something small, and winged and glittering. The Snitch. I knew Harry had seen it too, for he was suddenly much more alert. I wondered why he didn't just swoop on down and grab it up, but then I understood. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Jamie Peters, was much closer to it then he was. I quickly flew to the other side of the goal, trying valiantly to ignore the golden walnut. It was hard.

Suddenly Jamie whipped around and spotted it. He flattened himself down on the broom and began hurtling through the air. Harry saw that it was time to drop the subtly act and knew that the outcome was now totally up to the better flyer. He was on a Firebolt, and Peters was riding a Nimbus 2000. It was clear to everyone which house was going to win.
Side by side, the rivaling Seekers pushed closer and closer to their common goal. First Peters would be ahead, then Harry would pull forward, then Peters would regain his lead. As they closed in on the hovering nut, Harry's hand was a full four inches nearer, and I breathed a premature sigh of victory. It would be a tense five seconds until I would realize just how premature I had been. In what seemed to be a final drain of strength, Peters threw all his weight against the well-worn Nimbus, shot ahead, and grazed Harry's hand as he snatched the snitch just in time. There was a collective gasp, then dead silence like silence has never been.

All of the sudden, a triumphant roar went up from the Hufflepuff area of the stadium. Peters let out a mighty shout and began to spin in the air, still clutching the precious Snitch in his right hand. Six yellow clad players bore down on him, crushing him in a mighty bear hug. I slowly turned my head towards Harry, who was staring at his hands with fire flashing in his eyes. It was the first time he had lost a match unprovoked. I mean, the whole thing with the Dementors in our third year had been understandable, but pure and simple defeat was something totally new to him.

Katie dropped quickly to the ground and speed off towards the changing rooms. The rest of us silently followed, wincing in anticipation of the blamblasting we expected. Everyone filed in, with Harry bringing up the rear, meeting no one's eyes. Katie stood with her back facing us, and we could see that every single muscle in her body was tensed. Then she turned towards us at a sloth's pace. I was surprised to see her face twisted up in a very forced smile.

"Kids, I'm not Oliver. I'm not about to stand up here and tell you what you did right and what you did wrong. We played damn well, and we'll just have to get them next time. Now, please hit the showers." She turned away and settled her head remorsefully in her trembling hands. I knew how badly she had wanted to prove to everyone what a good coach she was. I walked over and placed a quick hand on her shoulder.

"Good game, coach" I nearly whispered. She gave me a shaky smile, and I left, my heart going out to her.

Not a word was spoken in the steamy shower room. I went in and out as quickly as possible, not wanting to discuss anything with anybody. What a way to start a season. I bitterly pulled on clean robes, and ran my fingers through my wet hair. My sorrowful feelings were beginning to give way to make room for hate and anger. The week's events were beginning to catch up to me, and I knew it was only a matter of time until I snapped.

"Can I borrow a pair of socks? I didn't bring any clean ones." I turned around to look into the eyes of an upset, dejected Harry. I gave him a weak, would-be reassuring smile, and tossed him a pair. Following was a long, pregnant pause.

"I was so sure I had it," he began, in a small, self conscious voice, "He just threw out that last burst of energy. I could feel the wings on my hand, Ron. I was so close. Do you think they'll replace me?" He looked very much like a child as he turned to me with anxious eyes.

"No, no, no Harry," I tried to comfort him, "you're the best Seeker they've had in a century, they say it constantly. You've had an almost perfect record for five years. You were due for a loss Harry, and your not going to lose your place on the team. It'll be fine."
He tried to smile, he really did, and I have to admit it took guts. We left the rooms together, chins up, optimistic faces to the world. I passed Fred and George on the way out, and they gave us the thumbs up sign.

"See? Everything's going to be fine, no hard feelings, really." We hurried along, eager to get past the still rowdy Hufflepuffs without incident.

"Good game!" called Peters, and I fumed, but in the sportsmanlike tradition so vital to the Hogwarts athletic systems, (Oliver got a bit uppity now and then, but he was a firm believer in fair game play and all that- I'll never be able to get rid of that phrase) I lifted a shaking hand to him. I continued along with Harry in tow, until we finally reached the welcoming sight of the Fat Lady.

"Bizzumfrog," muttered Harry. The portrait swung open, and we steeled our nerves for what awaited us inside.

As we entered the room, we were greeted by an inconceivable surprise. Leaning casually against the wall next to the entrance was Hermione, with a cool look of amusement on her face. It was the first time she had shown interest in something other than a book for forty-eight hours, and I was so pleased I forgot to be on my guard.

"Hermione! How are you feeling?" Harry smiled warmly, temporarily forgetting what had kept him frowning for the last half hour.

"Better then you, apparently. I heard about your little slip up, Harry. That wasn't very surprising, was it? About time your luck ran out, eh?" Harry stepped back, a shocked look on his face. For a horrible moment, I thought he was going to either cry or snap back at her. I was frozen with fear. No matter what the outcome, this was terribly untimely. Hermione looked overly satisfied with his reaction.

"So you heard about it huh?" I tried to keep the dark undertone of my thoughts hidden from my voice. "Well, it was upsetting, but we'll get them next time." I inwardly marveled at my control. At the best of times, my temper often matched my hair, but with Hermione, something allowed me to scream out my feelings on the inside. I could only hope that Harry was thinking along a similar vein.

"Tuh! One would hope that your big egos would learn something from this. But of course, you can't be used to disappointment, having lived in the shadow of Potter half your childhood. Star treatment always managed to stretch it silver fingers to you as well, didn't it?"

"Hermione," I began, clenching my fists at my sides, "You have been friends with Harry exactly two months less than me."

"A mistake that I regret more than anything I have ever regretted. Thank the Great Wizards that I have been enlightened. I want you to know, while we're on the subject, that any type of friendship, love, caring or even simple civility that I have shown to you over the course of the last four years was nothing but an illusion. The only reason I am currently wasting my breath on the likes of you two pathetic children is to make one thing perfectly clear. I want no more connections with you. Erase me from your memory. Pretend that I have died. Or simply face the facts: I woke up and saw how I had ruined four years under the impression that you two were worth my time."

When the last horrible, heart-shattering breath had left her bloodless lips, she turned crisply on her heel and stalked away, calm, cool and collected. I felt an odd sensation and lifted a finger, shaking with emotion, to trace the path of a singular tear. I hastily wiped it away and turned towards Harry. His mouth has hanging open, and he too was violently trembling.

"Harry, its not her," I choked, in a voice I was horrified to discover was thick with unshed sorrow. I cleared my throat and continued. "That was not Hermione Granger who just spoke to us. Believe me, she didn't mean it." It was not the first time in a week that I had not been able to tell who I was comforting.

"Ron, we need to go to the library. Its not a choice anymore. The session with Snape most definitely had an effect. Who knows how long it will be before its out of our hands?"

"Harry, who's to say its in our hands right now?" I asked.

"Me," he said firmly.

And it was settled. We turned right around and headed down the corridors towards the room of learning that could, possibly maybe, be the key to the ever-stranger wall separating Hermione from us more and more with very passing minute.

We spent the rest of the day in among the dusty shelves. I don't think we had spent that much time in there since the Hippogriff incident in our third year. I must have looked at three hundred books on all sorts of hexes, curses, countercurses, Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. The list traveled for miles, and Harry and I traveled with it. We skipped lunch and dinner, and were only disturbed when Madame Pince began preparing to close down the library for the night. We left, heads hung and empty of anything significant to our cause.

"Well, that was productive," I sarcastically drawled.

"We had to try it Ron. We can go tomorrow, we have a twenty minute gap between Divination and Transfiguration- we'll skip lunch again and then we can go after Charms..." Harry trailed off, mentally reviewing our schedules.

"But Harry, what's the back up plan?" I said

"Back up plan?" he looked up absently.

"There has to be a back plan, something to fall back on. Have you ever stopped to think what would happen if we don't find anything? If she never changes back, just goes on becoming crueler and crueler until the Hermione Granger we know dies? Until she turns so horrible that she transfers to Slytherin, and uses what she knows about us against us, and becomes friends with Malfoy? Until she marries him and they live together and start producing lots of little, extremely smart Malfoys?" I babbled on, panicking, everything crashing down on my shoulders. I had finally reached the proverbial end of my rope, the last straw, the final rock on my camel's back (I'm mixing up my metaphors again, but that's beside the point). I could no longer take all the strain and the stress. With an empty stomach and a screaming brain, I wobbled on the edge of sanity.

Harry watched my tirade at first with amusement, then slight alarm. He grabbed my flailing arms and shoved them down, but I was still going on and on about Hermione's demise would start the eventual return of You-Know-Who.

"RON GET A GRIP" Harry used his remaining energy to blast his message directly into my ear. I promptly shut up and looked at him sheepishly.

"Sorry about that. I may have gotten a bit carried away."

"May have? Come on Ron, we've got to get to bed before curfew."

Together we rushed down the hallways to our cozy common room. I was so tired that my eyes were closed before my head hit the pillow. Suffice it to say, I slept well.

Hermione was already gone from the common room by the time Harry and I made our appearance the next morning. We were a bit late, and rushed into the Great Hall just in time to see Hermione chatting amicably with a curious looking Malfoy. I was disappointed, but less surprised then she was probably expecting. I had readied myself for this. I watched with mounting fury as Hermione fluttered her eyelashes in Malfoy's pale, sickly face. Her high, flirtatious giggle rose above the clatter of silverware and serving platters. I turned to see Harry, muscles tensed and working his fingers in and out of fists.

"We're running out of time, Ron. We need to spend every available second in that library." Harry's eyes were glittering with flames once more, and I knew it would be best to agree. I nodded dumbly and we sat down, ignoring the steaming plates of crisp bacon and fresh eggs.

Try as I might, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene across the hall. Malfoy was warming up to the new attention, and had placed a casual arm across Hermione's shoulders. They sat, going back and forth like dear old friends, until it was finally time for Potions to begin. Hermione bid Malfoy good-bye with a light kiss on his sickly looking forehead, then sauntered away from a table abuzz with rumors and confusion. As she swept past us, she shot a look that clearly dared me to challenge, or even mention, her frolic across enemy lines (Hi Gypsy!). I said nothing, but stared, red-faced and out of breath, at my folded hands.

I felt so unimaginably alienated, even with a fiercely loyal Harry sitting by my side. I knew Harry was upset as well, but I couldn't help feeling a strong note of personal rejection. Only at the absence of it could I grasp at an understanding of the changes in Hermione and mine's relationship. My heart throbbed with a pain quite literal. The sooner we got to the bottom of the whole mess, the better.

Potions was hell. More so than ever before. And I've been through enough lessons with Snape to know what I am talking about. Hermione and Malfoy were paired, and the entire class was on the edge of their seats to see what would happen next. The sparks they expected were duly delivered, but not of the nature anticipated. The lovebirds weren't exactly crude, but they left nothing to the imagination where the status of their relationship was concerned. I was starting to get suspicious of Malfoy's sudden change of attitude to the 'Mudblood' he had hated for the best part of five years. Was her abrupt shift of heart enough to win him over? She certainly wasn't ugly, but she wasn't crowd stopping either. What was he after?

It took nearly an hour of absentmindedly pouring, stirring and simmering for the pieces to find their way together in my mind. What one thing did the new Hermione and the old Malfoy have in common? A deep, penetrating hatred for all Gryffindors, most specifically Harry and I. A deep, loathing abhorrence that carried back much farther then even our parents could remember- well at least in the case of Malfoy. But Hermione was simply acting out of a vindictiveness no one could fathom. I looked at them, looking at each other, and knew the plan. The charade was not for them, or for any of the enthralled bystanders. The whole abominable act was for the benefit of Harry and I.

And I wanted to feel anger. I wanted to maim, to hate, to mirror the looks I received every second on the second. My soul ached to be hardened, just as Hermione's was, just as Malfoy's seemed to be. It is the general thought of the public that mean-spirited people are unhappy. But at that second I would have given anything to join the offensive ranks. I was reduced to a mass of swallowed tears and twitching nerves.

The rest of that day passed with a swirl of drab color and the pointless drone of voices. Only when we were in the library was I motivated to speak, move or think. We spent very second in class waiting to get there, every second between classes getting there, and every second there reading with increasing turbulence. Despite our elaborate efforts, nothing was turning up. We searched under Malnettoyer, under all sorts of curse involving souls, personalities, even emotion. All in all, it was an overwhelming amount of material.

We went to dinner, hungry, tired and drained. I ate the tasteless food, drank a tasteless liquid and climbed up to the common room to dip into my towering stack of homework, Harry at my side.

Hermione was nowhere to be seen, and the students milling about were quiet and subdued. They too, had homework through the roof, and the Hermione/Malfoy display had put everyone off guard a bit. I worked for nearly an hour before sitting back and rubbing my eyes slowly. I opened them to see Hermione slinking through the portrait and making a beeline for her usual couch.

"So now her activities have expanded. She sleeps, eats, reads, learns, and makes out with Malfoy." I murmured darkly. Harry gave me a weary look and nodded slowly.

"You never know, Ron. The curse could wear off at any time. We could find what we've been looking for in the library."

"Yeah, and Snape could take up ballet to tour with England's finest. Come off it Harry." I snapped bitterly. Harry opened his mouth to argue, but closed it with a crack of jawbones. He stared off over my shoulder, and I whipped around to see what he was goggling at. The picture that met my eyes released my heart to drop to my toes.

Hermione had spotted Ginny and Seamus, embracing in front of the fire, as they had taken to doing. From the look in her eyes, Harry and I were not going to be the only ones forsaken by our former friend. Hermione leaned down and gave Seamus a sharp rap on the shoulder.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly as he jerked up his head. Ginny twisted around and looked curiously at Hermione.

"Nothing," she answered for him.

"Looks like something to me," Hermione snapped back. "You were nearly in his lap!" She pointed with an air of accusation. In the dim light I could see Ginny and Seamus both blush a deep red, but Ginny defiantly lifted her chin.

"Yes, Hermione. What of it?"

Hermione let out a low chuckle, and I knew that whatever happened next would be disastrous. For the second time in two days, I was rooted to the spot.

"Well, well, well. What a little couple. Ginny Weasley and Seamus Finnigan. Wonder how that going to work out? Because, if my memory serves me right, Ginny's got her heart set on the dashing, daring, famous Harry Potter. Spent four years mooning over him. Do you think you're anything to her Seamus?" Her eyes flickered maliciously as she watched a confused Seamus turned to Ginny, who was fumbling for words. The entire common room was silently waiting for her answer.

"I- I did, but- but never now. A while ago, yes- but no, its not like she makes it- can't you see?" Her voice was shrill and she wouldn't meet Seamus's hurt eyes. Harry was breathing heavily behind me, and everyone was looking from her to him, her to him, and resting on a mirthful Hermione.

"Of course Ginny," she mocked, "we ALL believe you. Right?" She turned and swept the room with an icy glare. They all looked anywhere but at her. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could take a little trip into her memory? I'm sure the facts embedded there would be enough to bring anyone to their senses. Wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione put her head close to Seamus's and spoke in falsely kind tones. Ginny choked on a sob, tore away from the crowd and pounded up the stairs to her room. Seamus turned to go after her, then turned to Hermione, then dropped his head and stormed out of the common room with a bang of the portrait door. Hermione reviewed her work, and satisfied, went to start on her homework, ignoring the amazed glares her fellow Gryffindors.

But I sat, still frozen, but for a different cause this time. Realization. Why hadn't I thought about it before? A trip through memories? Facts embedded in one's mind? I jumped up, grabbing Harry's wrist as I went.

"Ron! What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Come on Harry, come NOW! I've figured it out, and there's no time to spare." I clattered noisily down the hall, Harry thundering along directly behind me. Tearing through the corridors, I suddenly realized I didn't know where my destination was.

"Harry!" I skidded to a halt and whirled around to face a worn out and irritated Harry.

"Where's Dumbledore's office?"

"Ron! What the hell is going on? We passed it about 5 minutes back." He was sick of being in the dark, I could tell, but I couldn't, wouldn't take the time to explain it. I was still trying to figure out how to word it to the headmaster without sounding like a complete nut. I

gestured for Harry to head out, and with a groan he lead me to a statue of a grinning gargoyle. He tapped the gargoyle with his wand, muttered "Lemon Drop", and crawled through the entrance. I followed him up the steep, winding steps wordlessly. I was all of the sudden very nervous. What was I going to say? "Well, Dumbledore, I thought I'd just force her to go into my mind and see that she was loved." That hardly seemed sufficient. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my robes, looking around.

The room was full of many absorbing and beautiful things, whirring silver contraptions, a lovely bird I recognized to be Fawkes, the phoenix who had saved our lives in the second year. There was the gentle rumble of someone clearing their throat, and we were abruptly reminded where we were. Professor Dumbledore was regarding us with great interest, and we sat at his offer,

"Well boys, would you like to explain why you are here, looking like you were chased by something horrible, at nine o'clock at night?" I glanced at us. My shirt was untucked and Harry's glasses were dangling from his left ear.

"Sir, I need to speak with you, about Hermione." Dumbledore's smile faded slightly.

"Yes, she's been hurting you a great deal, hasn't she?" he commented sagely, and my cheeks burned. I hadn't expected everything to be quite so transparent. But then, it was Dumbledore we were dealing with.

"Well, yes, but I think I've thought of something."

"Really Ron? Go ahead, I'm all ears." Harry was staring at me expectantly, and Dumbledore's soft gaze was boring into my forehead. I fumbled for the words.

"Well, sir, we were sitting in the common room., and Hermione started to pick on Ginny and Seamus. She said a lot of stuff- bitter, miserable things- but one thing that really stood out to me was her comment, '"If we could take a trip through Ginny's memory, the facts we found would be enough to convince anyone"' Well that made me remember something. Harry and I have been doing a lot of research, and I remember reading in a book about emotions. The power of emotion holds a lot of magic, if I remember right. Love can block spells, hate can physically impair, and sadness can mute a person. I read about an enchantment called a Yestercare Glitterbreeze."

Harry looked lost and Dumbledore raised a bushy eyebrow. I crashed along, my words tumbling over each other. "A person allows another person to enter their brain- more specifically, their memory. In the past it has been used in cases of depression, or when a Memory charm goes wrong. The enchantment allows the enchanter to give the-er- enchanted a view of all the memories in their head. The solid purity of the concentrated truth helps to stir memories in the enchanted." A small, warm smile was spreading slowly over Dumbledore's lined face, and Harry was staring at me with eyes full of admiration. I felt ten feet tall.

"You understand. If we could let Hermione into one of our minds, she be faced with five years of mostly wonderful memories. Possibly, maybe, would it be enough to bring her back? If she could see how much we shared, how close we were. I think- I KNOW, sir. I could do it. And it would save her."

I sat back, breathing rather heavily. The possibility of actually taking action on the situation was pounding through my body. Without warning, I was wide awake, sharp and on the alert. I met Dumbledore's eyes and spoke volumes. I squirmed as I felt him reading my mind, taking inventory of my past. There was silence thicker than the fog on the moors, a tense atmosphere one wanted to slice with a knife. Finally I wrenched my eyes away, and my heart burned.

"Yes," the single word was spoken in barely a whisper. I jumped from my seat, and Harry let out a small whoop of joy. I turned to race from the room, but Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Not tonight, Mr.Weasley. We must wait for tomorrow. You will need your strength. Sleep tonight, you will be refreshed in the morning. Then maybe you will want to review your decisions more carefully." I nodded on the outside, but on the inside I was cursing the great man. Wait for tomorrow? I couldn't! Review my decision? I didn't understand. Harry and I whispered plans the whole walk back to the common room. I reckoned the hardest part would be getting Hermione to sit still long enough to perform the actual curse, and Harry agreed.

As we climbed into bed, I once more pondered Dumbledore's gentle comment. Why would I need to think on my decision? A chance to get rid of the devastating spirit that had taken over Hermione, and he was asking me to think it over, patiently wait? But I knew the Dumbledore was far greater wizard than I, and he often held important information in cryptic messages. Tossing and turning my way to morning, I flipped the words around my mind. Finally I fell into fitful sleep, and was once more cursed by odd dreams.

Hermione was sitting in the common room, her forehead stuck to mine, and we were sitting very still. I could feel her searching through my mind, could sense her reviewing all my pains and insecurities, all my dreams and ambitions. Her steely eyes bore through my membranes, and all of the sudden we were separated. All of my life was now in her head, all my insight had poured into her like a flash flood. I waited for her to smile, to hug me, to even speak. But instead she got up and ran to Malfoy, who was waiting across the room. She told him, told him everything, all my hurts, all my weaknesses. Every word she said put a dagger through my heart, and slowly I felt the blood trickling from under my skin and soaking my robes a horrible scarlet. She was killing me with my own memories.

I woke with a start, covered in sweat, the rune-like message all to crystal clear. The magically illuminated clock at my elbow told me it was 3:30 in the morning, but my thoughts raced about in my head, dragging me along, and sleep retreated drowsily. I thought of all the things I had ever thought- the shockingly mean things when we had first met her, some random dishonorable snippets from when we had been through various quarrels, and of course the most breathtaking- my most recent un-gentlemanly thoughts about her new look. Oh God, why did I do always this to myself? I groaned and had an impulse to run. Just get up and flee away, from everything in life. I could picture it, good intermingling with bad, pain and happiness becoming a blur, a huge inkblot far, far away behind. And laying there in the still of the night, a mixture of thick bed clothes and darkness enfolding me, I knew that if I had a chance, I could leave it all in the dust.

Harry was awake by dawn, and my eyes had not closed since the realization, so we headed out of the dormitories in the wee morning hours. I told him we needed to head to the library, that I needed to check something out. He gave me a suspicious look, but we ended up going anyway. I was irritable and he was still waking up and we made quite a pair, hissing at each other and walking on eggshells the whole way.

When we finally reached our destination, the crimson-gold of a sunrise was flooding through the east-facing windows, bathing the books in a bloody haze. The quiet wasn't nerve-wracking, as silence usually is, but instead settling and soothing. My mind began to clear, and I explained my dream to Harry in low, urgent tones. By the time I was done Harry was looking rather concerned, but I had a gut feeling that it was more a fear that I was going to chicken out than anything else. I ignored his doubts and went on a hunt for the book I had been thinking about since 3:30.
The Power of the Soul: A look into emotions spells and enchantments.

I pulled it off the high shelf and walked over to the now brightening study section, Harry noiselessly following. After only a few minutes of flipping, I found the section I had been looking for. Listed were complete directions for the enchantment, history on different uses and a few example cases. I skimmed the information and found what I was looking for: the disclaimer.

"The Yestercare Glitterbreeze enchantment cannot be confined to one part of the brain or subconscious. Once the enchantee is in the mind, they have free reign of anything and everything, and they can also delve into your subconscious. They are also in there as long as they want to be; you have no control of your body, and neither do they. The two people involved are frozen, free only to roam in the mind being entered."

I could feel Harry's breath on the back of my neck, he was reading over my shoulder. We finished about the same time, and turned to look at each other. His eyes were troubled, clouded with worry and stress. We had been through so much. Funny thing was, this was positively child's play compared to some of our adventures. But in the past, our best friend hadn't turned against us. I wondered what Harry saw reflected in my eyes. I didn't really feel a lot of anything right then. I was back inside my brain, ruffling through the dusty files of the past, making pro/con charts and weighing the situation on the poorly balanced scale of life. I reemerged to see Harry's eyes bursting with green impatience, tongue bleeding from the pressure of his teeth.

"Well?" he asked quietly. "It's totally up to you, Ron. If you don't want to, well then, I'll understand." His words were noble, but those eyes, the eyes they all said were his mothers, those easily readable eyes gave him away in a second. He was depending on me. And out of the blue I was ready and raring to go. This was it. My chance. My chance to prove to the world that I will not forever be the sidekick. We all had had our places since that first day. Harry was the brave one, Hermione the smart one, and I was the tagalong. The hothead. The comic relief. Well, no more, for I was going to prove myself. I was going to be bold, daring, valiant, unflinching, lionhearted. It was my turn.

"Harry, we need to hurry. This potion takes about an hour to brew, and I guess we should get it done before everyone's up." Harry looked right at me and beamed brighter than the rapidly rising sun. We rushed out of the library, ready to take on the world, or at least Hermione.

The potion was deceptively easy to brew- everything we needed was readily available in the student store cupboard. The cauldron was propped up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom again; I couldn't help but remember the Polyjuice Potion we had cooked up two years ago. I hoped this one would have more effect.

While I stirred the thick turquoise liquid, Harry was wracking his brain for a way to get Hermione to agree to the enchantment. We finally settled on the lure of a library book that she had somehow left in our dormitory- before all the mess had started she'd visited every now and then. It seemed shady to me, but by now everything was swirling around like icing on the top of a sticky bun...the heat from the bun working its radiating way through the composition of each crystal, slowly turning from the definite solid matter state to the shaky, teetering uncertainty of liquid. I shivered and added the shredded nightshade- there was a hiss of smoke and a low whistling sound. It was all finished. I ladled some into a bowl and Harry and I rushed to the dorm to hide it before breakfast. Once it was safely nestled under Harry's wardrobe, we changed out of our pajamas and brushed our teeth with Neville, Dean and Seamus, trying successfully to look as though we had just woken.

Breakfast was easier to bear knowing that we would soon be setting everything straight. The ravens that had cursed me for days were back and more terrible than ever. Much more was at stake now than a petty Quidditch match.

Now that I was thinking back, I viewed my fears as stupid and childish. With my entire past was at her disposal, I was more fearful of Hermione than I had been in a long time. She was eating with Malfoy again, ignoring us as she had promised. She had her legs propped up on an empty chair, and a book settled in her lap. Malfoy casually twirled one of her brown curls around his forefinger, chin resting on her shoulder. If I hadn't known them, they would have been nothing more than a happy couple, studying up for an important test. I shuddered and remembered a situation from a few weeks before that was rather similar.

"God, Ron, you've got a thing for scaring me, haven't you?" She turns to him, laughing lightly. Harry joins them, groaning under his breath.

"Colin Creevy's bugging me again! Grr, will I ever get rid of that kid?" He rubs his scar ruefully.

"Probably not," Ron says, unwrapping his arms from Hermione's waist. He leans forward and smells her hair. "Weird! I thought I had smelled flowers- your hair smells exactly like...daisies? I dunno, it smells like flowers."

Harry sticks his nose in Hermione's mass of ringlets. "Hey you're right." Hermione laughs and mockingly pushes Harry away.

"I may smell like wildflowers, but you sure don't!"

"She's right, come on Harry. Lets get to the showers." Ron allows the silky hair to slip from his fingers and turns away.

I curled my fingers and put tiny slashes in my hands with my fingernails. How was it that now, only half a month later, my greatest enemy got to sit with her, smell her hair, hear her laugh? Every second spent in the Hall forced the irresolute musings from my mind. Harry pushed a tantalizing plate under my nose.

"Eat them, Ron. You have a lot on your shoulders, and a heavy spell to work today."

"Shut up!" I hissed. "Don't let anyone hear you!"

"Quit worrying and eat!"

I turned away and shoved the soft flapjacks in my mouth. I doubt I would have known the difference if I had been eating Styrofoam. Once I had finished I checked my bag.

"Crap! Harry, I forgot my Potions bag. I can't afford detention today!"

"Well, if you'd better book it! You can't be late! I'll go down now. Maybe I can stall or something." I nodded and jumped up from the table, flinging my bag over my shoulder.

"Yeknomtons!" I screamed at the Fat Lady, and she swung open, shocked at my outburst. I raced up the stairs and nearly knocked the door down as I exploded into the room. I searched my bedside until I found the hated book. Grabbing it and stuffing it into my bag, I stumbled down the stairs leading to the deserted common room. Well, deserted I thought. A quick glance showed Hermione, reading. God, how I wished she'd just put down the books. Every second she devoured books like there was no tomorrow.

"Weasel, what do you think your doing? Snape wouldn't be to happy to see you staring off into space, missing his class. Then again, he's never too happy to see you, is he? I have to say he's not lone in his opinions. Couldn't you leave? I just ate."
Her snide comment woke me like a slap of ice water. My insides burned. She should have been at Potions, too, of course, but she was a newly elected teachers pet, and she leisurely strolled towards the exit. My gut boiled with so many feelings, and I stormed across the room, snatching her arm just as she reached for the handle. No more waiting, no more hurting. It was time.

All of the muscles in Hermione's arm tensed as my fingers tightened their grip. She spun her head around furiously, but the surprise I had expected to see on her face was nowhere to be found. Her cold, calculating eyes spoke a million words to me, and my heart quickly sunk. Why was I doing this for a person that wanted nothing but my removal from her life? Why was I crawling out on a limb for a witch who didn't even care enough about me to want to hurt me? My thoughts were once more muddled and confused. She tried to wrench her arm away, but I grabbed the other one, and pulled her unwillingly up to the dorms. The wardrobe, the wardrobe. My mind was set on one thing and one thing only. The spell, the enchantment. The faster the better. Short thoughts. Choppy thoughts. The only thing I could remember properly were the instructions listed on page 376.

"Ron, you will let go of me right now, or I will make you regret it. Do it now." Her words were spoken clearly and evenly, but the tone sounded like something from the mouth of the Devil himself. I was slightly shaken, but it only served to feed the fire of certainty. I threw her down contemptuously on Seamus's bed. I stared at her for a second, stared into her eyes without flinching. Not an easy task, but one completed with much pride. No one spoke for several beats.

"Now what Ron?" I will never know if the question was rhetorical or not, but I waved my wand at her and she was instantly bound at the hands and feet with a silvery rope. Our mouths simultaneously fell open with shock. I had never, ever learned any spells for tying people up. What was happening? I seized the opportunity to grab the glass of bubbling solution from Harry's wardrobe. Her gaze went sluggishly from me to it, me to it, and her face was washed with a wave of realization.

"Your going to force me into your brain, eh Ron? Think that will change my feelings for you? Brave hero Ron, riding in silver armor, fixing what's broke, soothing what's burned? But poor Ron, he has let one small detail slip his mind." Her mocking tone disappeared and her eyes narrowed. "There's no friendship here for you to retrieve."

Those words should have hurt. They should have stung with the force of every other lash she had thrown. But my mind was on automatic. Yes, my friends, it truly was. I used to think that it was just an expression, an exaggeration. But it was happening to me right then. I couldn't remember who this girl was in front of me, or why I was doing this for her. I couldn't remember what I wanted her to know and what I didn't. I saw the correct page in my mind, more real than it could have been in front of me, and took a sip of the glass in my hands. I heard a babble of voices, some laughing and some crying, some sounding spiteful and some sounding maternal. I looked wildly around me, but the only other human was tight lipped and silent. The room around me rapidly melted away, making way for odd fragments of color. The voices grew, and bits of conversation swam around in the murky puddles of past.

"I think I can the tell who the wrong sort for myself, thanks." The skinny, black haired boy grinned coolly at the pale flustered boy. I remembered my shock and happiness- a friend. A person who would stand up for me. We had become best friends at that moment.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." I remembered the clatter of my wand falling to the floor. Hermione Granger, lying to her favorite teacher, to save the hides of the two people she despised? We had bonded right then.

"First, to Mr.Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of wizarding chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." I remembered feeling that my heart was going to burst with pride.

"Or maybe, he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train." I remembered the cold, sinking feeling of being caught by Snape, and the excitement of arriving in the car ebbing away quickly.

"This will be a bit of shock. There has been another attack...another double attack." I remembered the pain of seeing Hermione, laying stock still on the hospital bed, eyes glassy, hair scattered about wildly.

"The Heir of Slytherin left another message. Right underneath the first one. 'It said Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'"
"Who is it? Which student?"
"Ginny Weasley" I remembered the feeling of nausea, and the blackness that flashed in front of my eyes as my knees gave way.

"Ron! Ginny's OK! I've got her!" My heart really did burst this time, and I blinked back hot tears of joy. It was going to be okay.

"What happened? Where's that- that thing? Who screamed?" I remembered exchanging an anxious glance with a nervous Hermione. No one had screamed. Why had the Dementors had such an effect on Harry?

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE! PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!" I remembered the hurt feeling of no one believing me, and the fearful pounding of my heart. A brush with death. It had been very unsettling.

"Yeah it will. You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I'll help." I remembered the absolute shock of having Hermione throw herself in my arms, sobbing piteously in my neck. I remembered rubbing her head uncomfortably, wishing she wouldn't be so upset, wishing my words would dry up her tears.

"Ron...haven't I been a good friend...a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you...you're on my side aren't you?" I remembered the revulsion I felt towards the man, ugly inside and out, who had killed my best friends parents.

With an uncomfortable shake of my head, I snapped out of my dream world, and the voices dimmed to an incoherent blather. My mind was focused, ready for her. I walked for to Hermione, her eyes spitting fire at me, and thrust my forehead towards its target. The last thing I remembered was her trying to pull away, as a soft music began playing in the air, then the sharp pain, then the welcoming darkness.


Crying, crying, crying. All I heard were desperate sobs, pounding through me. Ugh, my head. My head was throbbing as if someone had kicked me in the head. I tried to open my eyes, but the glaring lights wouldn't let me. After a few tentative seconds, I slowly lifted my aching head, and with a jolt my heart started going a million miles a minute. Very painfully I allowed everything to come rushing back.
I was lying with my head on Hermione's stomach. I assumed I had passed out, and remembered I hadn't read anything about that in the book. I shuddered, knowing that her next words were crucial to the course my life at Hogwarts would follow. She was shaking, her body moving with the racking sobs she let forth. I felt my breakfast burning my throat. What did it mean? Crying for me? Crying for herself? Because I forced her to undergo the enchantment? I swallowed and cleared my throat as feebly as an elderly man. She looked up, her face and chin blotchy and red.
"Oh, Ron. How-" she broke off, burying her face in her arms. With silver dollar eyes I waited. "How can I ever face you again?" A dam broke, and I jumped up, gathering her into my arms. In a flash she was a small child, hiding in my chest, and her tears soaked my robes. I rocked her back and forth, fighting a losing battle with my own tears. I finally let go and joined her, our tears intermingling on the crimson bedclothes, bodies quivering in unison. She was the first to draw back, gasping for composure. I realized she was still bound and quickly muttered the words to remove the ropes. Once more, magic I didn't know I had.
"You are amazing. Why didn't you ever tell me?" Her eyes were still shinning with tears, searching my face in desperation.
"Tell you what?" I choked.
"Ron, I saw. I was there, I could see me, and Harry. I was INSIDE you. And, and I knew. And Ron-" She cut off, swallowed hard, and looked right into my eyes. "I love you, too."
The subconscious. The un-gentlemanly thoughts. It was all there, sudden;y, right in front of me. Had I hidden it from myself? Or had I simply waited for it to become to important to ignore any longer? She was waiting for an answer.
"I never told, because I never knew. Not until I needed to." Her smile broke the storm, and there was no more need for tears or words. It was my first kiss, and as far as I knew, hers as well. And I was happy that this was not a schoolboy crush. This flame was not living on a short wick. This was something special, and I knew that everything step had been worth it. After all, no one has ever reached the top of the mountain without enduring the climb. What a climb it had been. I took her hand, in the simplest display of love, and lead her down the stairs. You could think this is the end, but you'd be wrong. This is only the beginning. The beginning of happily ever after.

Well, I guess you could say a lot has happened in the past few months. The deal with Hermione, the first Quidditch game I lost in a long time, and of course, the budding relationship of my two very best friends. You all know about the details, Ron already told you all that. But all of the sudden, he's MUCH to busy with Herm ('lil honey, that's his new name for her) to keep you guys updated. I, rather good-naturedly, offered to fill you in. So I guess this would be Harry Potter and What Happened Next? Hmm, it has a ring. Whoops, I wandered off. Ron warned me that he had been pretty darn formal with you guys. Ok, ok, I'm serious now.
When Ron didn't show up for Potions, I almost flipped. I had NO idea what was going on, if he was ok, if Hermione was ok, and how long I would be able to hold Snape off. I stalled, making up some crazy story about lost books and misplaced homework, and came out with 10 points from Gryffindor and a detention, but I got to go up to the common room anyway. I hurtled down the hallway and burst through the portrait, just in time to see Ron and Hermione making their way slowly down the steps from our dormitory. My heart leapt to see them hand-in-hand, but their tear-ravaged faces alarmed me. When Hermione saw me, she broke free of Ron and flew down the stairs, throwing her arms out wide.
"Harry! Harry, Harry, Harry, I'm so sorry, oh Harry!" She was crying again, shaking under my embrace. I looked up, bewildered and amazed, at Ron, who returned my gaping stare with a watery smile. He sort of shrugged, then came over to join us, making a three-way hug. We stood quite still that way for a very long time.
We went straight to Dumbledore, but I had a feeling he already knew what was going on, since he was waiting for us at the gargoyle statue. He smiled and then, startlingly, gently wrapped his arms around Hermione.
"Miss.Granger," he nearly whispered in his mentorly voice, "you were greatly missed." Slightly blushing, Herm thanked him and we all followed him to the office, where he offered us hot coco and asked Ron and I for a complete version of the goings-on during the few days of Hermione's 'illness'. Relaying the details brought tears to Herm a couple of times, but we got through and Dumbledore was proud of us- we, for once, had solved something without breaking all the rules. He thanked us and sent us off to class. He even managed to rid me of the detention!
Dumbledore may have been very forgiving, but it took the Gryffindor students a little longer. Not to mention Draco! When she found out that she had dated Malfoy for several days, Hermione nearly burst out in tears. Ron put a shaky arm around her to comfort her, and that's when I began noticing the 'sparks'. I didn't know about THE kiss yet, but I still knew something was up. Best friend intuition, that's what it is. Anyway, Malfoy still insists that Herm paid him large amounts of money, and will not disclose any information on the personal details of the relationship. Poor Hermione is torn between wanting to know and wanting to forget. I, on the other hand, have to hold back fits of laughter every time the subject comes up.
Everyone in the Gryffindor house was a little wary of 'The Beast', as she had come to be known. It took nearly an hour of explanation ("you mean you-know-who did this?" and "she doesn't remember ANYTHING?") and a couple days of hands-on proof, but after a while, everyone fell back into the normal routine of bugging her for help with Arithmancy and asking her to check their Charms homework.
That afternoon, Hermione and Ginny disappeared in their dormitory and returned three hours later with tearstained faces, arms around each other, laughing lightly. Happy in her big sister role, Hermione went and gave a sincere apology to Seamus, who red-facedly went about making up with Ginny. Everything finally seemed back to normal. Except...
Later on I cornered Ron. We needed to have a little talk.
"Ron Weasley, we have NEVER kept secrets. Ever. Now your going to tell me what's up, and your going tell me without a bunch of BS on the way, understand?" He looked quite shocked at my miniature outburst, and nodded with a weird grin. He told me all about how he had hidden everything in his own subconscious, and she had seen it, and the little confession on Seamus's bed, and the kiss. I think he had thought I'd be surprised, but no, I had been expecting this for some time. It's always obvious to everyone but the people involved, huh?
I thought things might be weird, what with them going out and all, but they haven't given me a chance to even TRY and be the third wheel. They still include me, and we do things together all the time. In fact, I'm about to be late to meet them at Hagrid's. So, thanks for putting up with us! Maybe, if we feel like it later on, we'll keep updated on what's going on around here. Hopefully it'll be pretty boring. But then, we are at Hogwarts....