Hermione
sighed. Bad enough that Ron's leg had been injured by Sirius
Black
in his Animagus form, but did he have to over-dramatize the
wound?
It was after all only a bite, not a break. Honestly, he sounded
like
Malfoy, playing on Pansy Parkinson's sympathies months ago in
the
Great Hall after he had goaded Buckbeak into attacking him and
damaging
his arm.
Remembering the gruesome fate of the
innocent Hippogriff that she
technically had not witnessed only
hours ago, she winced reflexively,
then returned her attention to
Ron, tentatively touching the swelling
around his bite mark.
His
responding hiss of pain made her jump, and she gingerly pulled
back
both hands, palms open in a gesture of apology.
Before she could speak, Ron blurted, "I'm sorry."
She felt her brows knitting together. "Whatever for?"
"Well... you
know ... Scabbers and ... Crookshanks and... You were
right, and I
was wrong."
She turned her head, fighting a sudden surge of
tears that had risen to
prickle her eyes and struggling to ignore
the way her heart had jolted
at his confession. She had felt so
uncharacteristically out of control
during the past few days. She
hated to concede such weakness, but she
also had to admit that she
was rapidly reaching the end of her tether.
The hand she
raised to touch the forming lump in her throat brushed
against an
all-too-familiar chain. That stupid Time Turner... She would
be so
glad to return it to Professor McGonagall. At least the term
had
ended, and she would never need to use the bloody thing
again...
"What's that?"
Her hand automatically
pushed down the telltale sign of the albatross
around her neck.
"It's nothing, I ... I'll tell you later."
The
expression in his blue eyes was sceptical when she met them
again,
but he let her vague dissembling pass without further
comment.
"So," she prompted, "I was right, and you were wrong?"
He smiled wryly. "Not like you aren't almost
always right about
everything."
She drew a shaky breath. "Almost always?"
And suddenly they were both laughing as though she
had just cracked the
funniest joke in the world.
A moan
interrupted their shared hilarity. Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail,
the
erstwhile rat in question, came lurching towards them from the
tunnel
beneath the Whomping Willow, gibbering hysterically, a grimly
silent
Professor Lupin on his heels.
The smaller man dropped to his
knees in supplication. "Ron, wasn't I a
good pet? You wouldn't
let them give me to the Dementors, would you? I
was your
rat!"
The
bulging eyes turned to her. "Sweet girl, clever girl, surely
you
won't –"
"Get away from her!" Lupin snapped,
dragging him off them none too
gently.
Hermione heard Ron mutter, "I let him sleep in my bed."
She sighed. "It's all right. You didn't know."
She glanced at his rueful smile and found herself feeling warmer inside.
Despite what Harry claimed, some people were not worth a second chance.
But some people most definitely were.