Desire and Good Sense
Hermione twitched.
"Why are you doing this, Harry?" the question formed itself tersely.
"Doing what?" Harry looked at her strangely.
"This. To Ginny," She said in a furious whisper, sneaking a glance at a clueless Ron, whom she hoped to keep that way.
"What?" Confusion still etched on his face.
"Leaving her behind," the murmur became pained.
"You know why…," Confusion formed into a tight granite-like surface.
"None of those reasons are good enough."
"Her dying—," the last word just loud enough to catch Ron's attention.
"What?"
"Nothing, Ron," Hermione said in a dismissive and slightly irritated tone. He looked mildly put-out, but shrugged and returned to oblivion.
"And how is she in less danger at home, or at Hogwarts?" she turned back to Harry.
He looked at her, for perhaps the first time in his life, like she was completely daft.
"You do realize what we're doing?" he spoke almost mockingly.
"Yes, I do," her gaze scornful. "And do you realize that, more now than ever, nowhere is safe? Even with Dumbledore," she paused, "even with him, Hogwarts wasn't impenetrable. Surely, you, of all people, know that Voldemort can get to her just as easily at the Burrow or Hogwarts as with us."
"Why didn't you have a problem with this before? It's been a month since I made that decision, and now as we're just about to leave, you say something?" The question was half curiosity, half diversion.
"I trusted, just a little too much, I might add, either her desire to help or your good sense would intervene before this point. Obviously, she cares too much for your wishes and you wish too much to remain stupid," the comment was said nonchalantly, but held the most scathing undertone.
Harry gaped.
"So," Hermione cast her cast her eyes up too casually, masking the look of triumph in them, "I'll go tell Ginny to pack, then."