In the Morning

Hermione woke up suddenly and found herself comfortably curled up underneath the blankets of her bed. Yawning, she pushed the blankets off her and sat up, turning her head to glance out of the window. It was still dark outside, so it must be early. The room, she noticed, was still pleasantly warm. Ron's charm hasn't vanished.

Ron.

His name brought instantly the memories of the dream she had had, the dream about Slughorn's Christmas party. Closing her eyes, she lay down on the bed again and sighed sadly. It seemed incredible to her that it had been little more than a year since that wonderful night. She felt the tears well in her eyes at the thought of how amazing she had felt, how full of hope, how delighted ... and how her weakness and stupidity had shattered her dream, had erased her hopes and desires.

She thought again about Ron, about that night, about the dance they had shared, about the sometimes playful, sometimes passionate, kisses they had exchanged, during the party and while they were going back to Gryffindor Tower. And then she remembered the things she had said to him, that she didn't want him to be Harry, that she didn't fancy Harry ... And just a few months later, after all her words, all her reassuring, she had done the very thing Ron had feared, the very thing she had said she would never do, and had cheated on him with his best friend ...

Harry was right, she thought sadly. We — I — don't deserve forgiveness, not after what I did.

She felt again the wet traces of tears on her cheeks, and while wiping them away, she pondered if a person could run out of tears by crying too much, because if it was possible, she surely was very close to achieving it. She realised that she was completely awake and that, almost surely, she would be unable to sleep again, and tried to decide whether she should get dressed or stay in bed a bit longer. She looked at her alarm clock and saw that it was almost six o'clock: too early.

She turned her gaze to the window again, and then she saw it: a sudden flash of red light. Frightened, she got to her feet instantly and ran towards the window. She looked towards her right, where the iron gates were situated, and saw streaks and bursts of light coming from there. Someone was trying to get in through the wards protecting the school. However, she could not see the gates properly from this window because the castle walls blocked the view, so she put on her dressing gown, took her wand and, silently, opened the door and peeked at the corridor outside. She didn't see or hear anyone, so she stepped out of the room and headed towards the window at the end of the corridor, from where she could see the gates.

She had moved just a few feet when she stopped dead in her tracks. A tall, dark figure was already looking through the window. She felt a chill running down her spine at the sight, and realised the figure was Ron. More relaxed, she resumed walking, feeling calmer. If Ron was watching through a window, apparently untroubled, then surely they were safe.

"You woke up early," Ron said a second before she reached him.

"I saw a red flash, and went to see what was happening, but I couldn't appreciate it from my window, so I came here," she explained, and then followed Ron's gaze. Outside was pitch black, but she could distinguish something moving outside the gates, and every few seconds, a new flash of light cut the darkness before vanishing, allowing her to see the black robed figures moving there.

"Death Eaters," Ron told her before she had time to ask, "trying to break my protections. They're wasting their time."

"Do you know how many of them are there?"

"Ten," said Ron. "They arrived two hours ago."

"And Voldemort? He's not there, is he?" she asked, her voice revealing more fear than she wanted to show.

"No, he sent a group of his slaves. He doesn't know Harry's here, of course. I suppose he just things the students and professors had rebelled against Snape and the Carrows. But I'm sure that he himself will come in the morning, when he discovers that those idiots aren't capable of entering the castle." A dark smile appeared on his face. "But don't worry; he will have more pressing worries by then."

Hermione could see, even in the dimness of the corridor, Ron's eyes darkening. He drew his wand and began caressing it softly, rolling it between his fingers.

"I could kill them all from here," he commented suddenly, with a soft but dangerous tone. "I could blast them all, and they would never know what hit them."

Upon hearing this words, Hermione shuddered, scared all of a sudden.

"You — you c — can't!" she stuttered, horrified.

"Oh, yes, certainly I can, Hermione," he retorted. "A single flick of my wand ..." he moved the wand to emphasize his words, "and they all would be dead for good. It would be so easy ..."

"No, Ron! You're not a killer!" she begged.

Ron looked at her, and she retreated a bit, scared by him, by this Ron who was not the Ron she had known for six years, this Ron who was not the one she had kissed and loved, but a strange and powerful wizard capable, she realised, of killing.

"You don't know what I am or am not," he replied. "They're murderers, torturers, cruel people. The world would be a better place without them."

"But you can't!" almost shrieked Hermione, and she dared to grasp his left arm with her trembling hands. "You said it yourself! You said you had come back to do the right thing! And killing people is not right! Not even when they're Death Eaters. You can beat them, can't you? You can capture them without killing, so if you do, if you kill ... then it is murder."

"I don't care."

"But I do!" she replied, vehemently. "I do, Ron! I don't want you to be a killer. A year ago, you wouldn't have contemplated, even for a second, killing ten people in a row."

"I've told you I'm not that Ron anymore."

"I know you aren't! And, as much as you deny it, I am the one to blame for that! But I won't let you to become a heartless killer, Ron. You're not like that. Even if you don't care about me, or Harry, or Ginny, or the rest of your family, you're still here! You're doing what is right! That's why we came here yesterday, wasn't it? To free Hogwarts, because it was the right thing to do. And you know that killing all those people is not right," she argued.

Ron didn't answer for a moment, but stared again at the gates. After a couple of minutes, however, he turned towards her again and fixed his eyes on hers. "You're right. Killing them this way is murder, and I am not a murderer."

Hermione exhaled a sigh of relief and leant against the corridor's wall, fearing that her trembling legs might not be able to support the weight of her body.

"I was not going to do it, I think," he continued, looking at his wand. "I was merely contemplating the possibility. Nevertheless, I'm glad you were here, Hermione. I think that is the reason I went for you and Harry. You can restrain me if I get ... carried away."

"Restrain you?"

"Your conscience and your ethics make me keep the focus on what it's important and what it is right. So, in some way, I think that I do need you."

Hermione didn't know what to say. It was the first time, since Ron had returned, that he had let some vulnerability or need out. Not being able to mouth an appropriate answer, she decided to go back to staring at the grounds.

"Do any of the teachers know that we have Death Eaters at the gates?" she asked, a little after.

"Everybody is sleeping, except you and me," said Ron.

Hermione retreated a bit from the window, and stared at Ron, who was still watching the unsuccessful attempts of the Death Eaters to break down his magical protection, and a sudden image of him, inching towards her, popped into her mind, and she shivered, remembering the wonderful feeling of his lips on hers, of his arms around her body, of his hands tangled in her hair ...

Gone, she thought, trying to shove the image away. That's all gone. It won't happen again. Never. And then, suddenly, that enticing mental image was replaced by another, more frightening one.

I could kill them all from here.

She flinched, the warm feeling of the first memory instantly overcome by the coldness of the second one.

Ron looked at her for a moment, his deep blue eyes making her feel as if all her secrets were in plain sight, and then resumed his watching through the window.

"It's early, Hermione. You should go back to sleep. There's nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. I'm only watching them."

"okay, I'll see you later, then."

Ron didn't say anything more and Hermione went to her room, lay down on her bed facing the window, with her hands under her head, and patiently waited for the morning to arrive.

o o o

The alarm sound startled her and she almost jumped on the bed to a sitting position. A bit confused, she looked at the clock and saw it was half past seven. It seemed that, in the end, she had fallen asleep. Now she could see the early light of day filtering through the glass. Slowly, she got out of the bed and moved to the window. She wanted to know if the Death Eaters were still trying to break down Ron's defences, or if they had brought reinforcements after realising they weren't going to be able to succeed, but she couldn't see much. Nevertheless, it seemed that no one was casting any curse or spell. In fact, everything seemed calm. Had the Death Eaters retreated in defeat?

She hurried to the bathroom and took a quick but pleasant shower. Then she dressed up, packed everything in her bag and exited the room. It was already ten minutes to eight and the corridor was deserted, so she went to the window and looked again at the gates. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see better, and she was sure there was at least a person at the entrance.

They left someone to watch, she thought. But where are the others?

Her eyes roamed over the school grounds, but everything seemed calm and deserted. Where was Ron? It was unlikely that he had gone to attack the Death Eaters, because had he done it, there would be no one at the gates ...

The sound of a door opening distracted her from her thoughts. She turned round and saw Harry leaving his room. He spotted her and moved towards her.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Harry. Slept well?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered, and shrugged. "It was strange, though, having an entire and very comfortable bed just to myself."

"Yes, I know what you mean."

"Where's Ron?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "He didn't sleep. Can you believe it? Ron, not sleeping ..." she shook her head.

"Yeah ... That and almost no eating, which is even stranger, if you ask me."

"Yes, it is."

They fell silent, both watching the grounds through the glass.

"There are Death Eaters watching the school," Hermione piped up.

"What?" Harry asked, looking at her. "Where? When —?"

"There's one at the gates right now," she explained. "I woke up before dawn and saw them. They were trying to break Ron's protective enchantments, but they couldn't do it."

"And Voldemort —?"

"Ron said he wasn't here."

"And he didn't do anything to them?" asked Harry disbelievingly.

Hermione didn't answer immediately. The words 'I could kill them all from here' crossed her mind and she felt chills run down her body. "No. He said they wouldn't be able to enter the castle and stood here, watching them."

"Why? He could have captured them, couldn't he?"

"I don't know."

Harry got closer to the glass, trying to get a better sight of the gates, when the sound of a voice startled them, making Harry smack his head against the window.

"You're already up. Perfect."

It was Ron. He was standing twenty feet behind them, watching them with his penetrating gaze.

"You have to stop doing that," said Hermione, a hand clutching her chest and breathing heavily, "or you'll end up giving us a heart attack."

"How do you move so silently, by the way?" wanted to know Harry, rubbing the spot in his forehead where he had hit the glass.

"Practice," responded Ron plainly. "Let's go have breakfast. I want to be at the Ministry at nine o'clock."

"Where are the Death Eaters?" asked Hermione once they began to walk towards the Great Hall.

"They got tired, so they left a watch and now are surrounding the grounds, trying to find a way in."

"Why didn't you tell me there were Death Eaters?" demanded Harry.

"There was nothing to do. They can't get in," explained Ron, and turned round to go to the Great Hall.

When they got inside, Hermione noticed only the teachers and some students were there. Ginny and Neville were among them, the two sitting alone at Gryffindor table. Ron sat directly in front of them.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning, Ron, Harry, Hermione," greeted Neville, with a small and uncertain smile. Ginny merely looked at his brother.

Harry and Hermione began to help themselves to breakfast, but Ron simply sat there.

"I've — I've heard that there are Death Eaters outside the school," commented Neville. "McGonagall and Flitwick were discussing it when we came down."

"Yes, there are," confirmed Ron, "but you don't have to worry. They cannot get into the grounds. And soon, they'll have more pressing worries."

Neville stared at him in awe. "Are you sure, Ron?" he asked. "About going to the Ministry?"

"Yes, I am."

Neville didn't say anything more.

"I'm going with you," piped up Ginny, defiantly. "Dad works there, and I want to be there when —"

"You're not coming," replied Ron, interrupting her.

"Why not?" she asked, furious. "I cannot go, when I'm your sister, and they can, when they betrayed you?"

"This isn't about me or about what happened," Ron said. "You're not coming, and that's all I have to say. You're not of age."

"You're not my owner!" Ginny bellowed, outraged.

"No, I'm not, but you cannot come if I don't take you, and I'm not going to do so."

Ginny didn't reply, but her look was murderous. However, Ron seemed unaffected by it.

"Gin, I think that —" Harry started, looking at her apologetically.

"Don't 'Gin' me!" she yelled at him. "I'm not talking to you."

"I explained to you everything about — you know what," he continued, hesitantly. "I trust you. But this —"

"Oh, don't make me laugh," Ginny cut him in, her tone angry and hurtful. "You only told me because Ron let the cat out of the bag!"

Harry didn't know what to say.

"But he was the one who explained it to you," intervened Hermione, trying to help. "We are sorry, Ginny," she added, and, to her embarrassment, she felt tears in her eyes. "You don't know how sorry we are. For everything."

Ginny looked at her. "You should be, Hermione," she said, her tone a bit calmer and softer. "But that is not enough. The pain you two caused to my family cannot be easily forgiven or forgotten."

"I know," Hermione said, wiping away her tears. "But that was never our intention. You know that, to me, your family is like my own. I know we disappointed you all, but we paid, Ginny. During these last months, we paid for it."

Ginny looked at her intensely, as weighing her words, and finally spoke with a normal tone full of sadness:

"I don't know what to say to you. I never — no one, I think — expected something like that from you two."

"Neither did I," said Harry. "We didn't do it on purpose! But we'll try to fix it. We'll try, even if it's the last thing we do." Hermione agreed, nodding fervently.

"There's nothing to fix," Ron told them suddenly. "I'm getting bored with this subject. I am fine. I'm okay with everything, so why don't you forget it?" he asked Ginny. "What happened, happened." he stated and looked at Harry and Hermione. "You'd better finish, the Ministry awaits us. You can chatter about feelings and friendships and relationships all you want once we come back."

Harry and Hermione hurried up. Ron got up and went to the staff table. Hermione noticed that the Great Hall was much more crowded, almost every student was now there.

Ron turned round and his potent voice — magically boosted, Hermione suspected — sounded in the Great Hall, and all the talking died out.

"Yesterday," Ron began, "Hogwarts was freed. Today, the Ministry will be cleared up. Soon, this war will have finished, and all of you and your families will be able to go on with your lives." Ron made a pause. No one dared to make the slightest sound. "Meanwhile, I warn you against going near the gates. Last night a group of Death Eaters tried to break into the school. They couldn't, but they're keeping watch. No one is allowed to get near them. The teachers know this, and they'll make sure no one passes them unnecessary information," he said softly, his eyes roaming over the Slytherin table. "Have you understood me?" he asked, and, again, no one spoke. "Good. That's all."

Ron returned to where Harry and Hermione were sitting, and they stood up once he reached them.

"Ready?" he asked. They both nodded. "Let's go, then," he said, starting to move towards the doors.

"Good luck," Neville said, with a nervous smile.

"Yeah, good luck," added Ginny, without looking at them.

"Thanks," muttered Harry nervously, and they left the Great Hall under everyone's gaze.

And we start the second day! Next chapter, on Monday!