A/N: As promised, here's another chapter!
Disclaimer: And you already know I don't own anything but part of the plot :)
"What do you plan on doing?" Emerald eyes shone with concern, and dare Draco think it... care. Bloody St. Potter cared that he had to do such a thing. Not only because Ronald Weasley was his friend, but because he saw the boy inside of him, frightened. It was embarrassing, knowing that he was so vulnerable in front of the-boy-who-lived. But... perhaps it was only fair seeing as he had witnessed the Golden Boy sobbing to Professor Snape.
"I don't know. Hermione..."
"She doesn't know anymore."
"I..."
"You love her, don't you?" It wasn't a question, really. Rhetorical.
"She won't. Not after..."
"Do you believe in her?"
"She can't believe in me. She... I'm going to..."
"If she doesn't believe in you, then she's as good as dead. You know that, Malfoy."
"Ron, you're in the library?"
"Padma!" Or is it...
"It's Pavarti."
"Oh, sorry. It's hard to tell... since you two are..."
"It's okay. Where's Hermione? Don't you usually only come here with her?"
"I..."
"Valentine's Day spell? How romantic! If you need help, I can help!"
"Blimey, thanks."
"I'll see you around!" And with a wink, the witch left the clueless, scheming ginger alone in the scary world of books and knowledge.
A dull headache plagued her as the bright lights opened her eyes that morning. Nothing past the playful pecks she'd shared with Draco Malfoy were remembered, so she assumed it had been her lack of experience in the department causing her to forget the crucial part of a healthy snog: breathing. A light tinge of pink coloured her cheeks in response to her memory of the night before. It had been innocent enough, but it was certainly considered wonton behavior in comparison to her usual self. At the same time, it set fire to her soul, letting her crave more interactions with the boy. It was astonishing really, a boy she'd hated all her life had suddenly become the reason for her being alive and happy. It had always been assumed that there was only black and white... but he showed her the shades of grey and the colours extending left and right of the colour spectrum. I'm in love. A not so hard conclusion to come up with, but earth-shattering nonetheless. It went against anything everyone ever believed in. Well, in the wizarding world, anyway. Muggles wouldn't understand, perhaps, until Voldemort actually penetrated into their world and created enough of a mass homicide for muggles to accept the existence of magic outside of fantastic works of literature.
"For the last time, he is!"
"Impossible! How could he be let into-"
"He's been ordered to-"
"I won't believe it! Not a moment. He's... dark, but what you're saying is-"
"I heard it! He was discussing it with-"
"You've said it a million times, and that makes it even less believable."
"Are you in denial that he's a Death Eater, or the impending death of Ron?"
"I don't know what you're-"
"Everyone knows. It's the reason why you're not fond of either Hermione nor Lavender. They got him first."
"Stop accusing me."
"You know it's true. That's why I'm telling you of all people."
"What can I do? I'm just-"
"Save his life and be his princess in shining armour? I don't know either. You figure it out."
"Sometimes, I hate you for being right."
Harry Potter, the boy who lived knew that there was more to life than trying to escape the evil clutches of the nose-less Lord Voldemort, like love. Love made the world go round, as muggle cliches indicated. Love was the only reason why he was still alive, and had sent Voldemort into his first death. Metaphorically, Voldemort was very much like an evil parallel to Jesus. War... death... rebirth... all for one cause. Of course, Jesus was good, and Voldemort was bad. It was a given. Jesus stood for love, while all Voldemort stood for was hatred. And now, he, himself was like a prophet; to deliver the message of love and destroy Voldemort once and for all. A second time, of course.
Of course he knew Ron wasn't faithful to him. Not so much as siding with Voldemort, but the fact that Ron was not happy about how he had all the fame. He knew it. And he loved him anyway. Not romantically, but like a brother. He hoped that that love was enough. But at the same time... it was also what made him weak. Voldemort's blinded hatred and his own blinded love clashed outrageously with one another, and he knew that in the end, if he wanted to prevail... he'd need help. Help that he could only hope Ron would give. He knew he could rely on Hermione, as she was modest. She wouldn't betray him for the spot light. He knew that Ron was a thick bloke, and in the heat of it all, he just might betray him... let him die, and think he can take on Voldemort alone. All to prove himself worthy.
On the other hand... he could witness the love between Hermione and Draco. Yes, Draco. Not Malfoy. He was different from his father. He had a heart, and the emerald eyed boy just couldn't bring himself to categorize the boy in front of him with Lucius Malfoy. It wasn't fair. And Hermione was right all along, as usual. They seemed unlikely at first, but now, taking a step backwards, he could see that it was always there. It was the way that without even realizing it, Hermione was always so defensive of his innocence... how no matter what, Malfoy always seemed to warn them ahead of time of anything. How he had gotten hurt during Quidditch at around the same time the Chamber of Secrets was open. To be honest with himself, Draco Malfoy was a rather skilled flyer, and would have been so terribly injured had he been completely concentrating. And the fact that right after his injury, Hermione had run from the stands to see him. And also that one time with Buckbeak, when Draco got hurt, Hermione was extremely worried. Of course, he'd always chalked it up as his friend's compassionate and nurturing nature, but now thinking deeply about it, it was almost the same way she cared about himself and Ron... the way she didn't seem to care about other students. Of course, she cared for other students, but never to the same extent. Maybe the love between the two of them... maybe their love was enough to help him overcome the darkest of times... the times when Ron wouldn't pull through for him. He wasn't sure how, but he knew from Dumbledore that love would be the eventual downfall for Voldemort.
"Potter? Merlin's underpants, Potter, have my words just struck you?"
"I need your help."
"Bloody Hell, Potter! I just said I need to murder your best mate, and you tell me you need my help? Do you need access to St. Mungo's, or the infirmary?"
"I know we have never been best of mates, but I am dead serious. I need your help. I know that Ron is not the most faithful mate a bloke can have, especially in my given position, and I have no doubt he would do anything to save his own hide. I don't know how you can help me, or how we can save him, but I do know that I need your help. Your love for Hermione will give us an advantage against Voldemort. I know it. I don't know how anything will come to be, but-"
"Potter, stop twisting your knickers. What? You're speaking like Loony Lovegood. I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You do. You're a bright bloke. Voldemort's worst enemy is not me. It's not muggle-borns or half bloods. His worst enemy is love."
"Snape's love saved you... my love saved Hermione..." Draco was catching on to the gist of what the unruly haired boy was saying. Somehow, love was the only way to defeat Voldemort. It was the only way to defeat his three Unforgivables. Perhaps... since hatred created the three Unforgivables, love can create their counter curses. Or, by any luck, something that could block it all. Including the Killing Curse. And perhaps... that spell could kill the Dark Lord.
Ron walked around the library. He'd been here often, being Hermione's boyfriend had created such a position for him. However, since he never truly walked around on his own, trying to find information, the area was as foreign to him as perhaps the Americas. Perhaps, I'll take up on her proposition. And if I'm lucky at all, perhaps I can...
And his world went black.
"He's missing!" The pleasantly plump Gryffindor ran to Hermione. The girl had never been fond of her intelligent classmate, but it was crucial that he was found. It was ridiculous, how he had disappeared. She heard he was last seen at the library; who else would be at the library twenty four seven?
"Who?" She knew it was unlikely that Lavender approached her, so she braced for the worst answer.
"Ron! He was last seen in the library, have you heard anything?" With that, the frail damsel in distress broke down into tears. Sobbing, she continued, "I know that you two have gotten into quite a bit of a nasty row, but he... I don't know what to do anymore."
Hermione stared into the face of the crying girl. She would be such a better match for Ron. Though she and Ron's friendship would never be the same, and she knew that they could never be lovers, she wanted the best for him. To be honest, Lavender was not very smart, but she would do. She was clingy, and would never leave him. She was the type to care, and care a lot. So much was evident in the tears she was shedding for the ginger boy. Hermione tried her best to comfort the crying girl, but in her heart knew something was wrong. Ron in the library without her? Ron disappearing in the library? It was all too strange, but she pushed it aside as she murmured to the crying girl, "Hush, we will find him. I'm sure of it." Am I?
A/N: Anyone want to take a stab at the mystery characters?
