GREEN-EYED MONSTERS
For her part, Ginny had always been somewhat in love with Harry Potter.
She had first heard about him when she was four. Of course, she didn't know he was Harry Potter then (or what a hairy potter even was), but he had been her first crush all the same.
It all started anew the first moment she laid eyes on him at King's Cross in Ron's first year. And then she found out who he was, and that he was Ron's best friend, and the crush only escalated her first year at Hogwarts.
Then after he saved her from the sixteen-year-old Voldemort and the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets during her first year, Ginny no longer thought she loved him—she knew it.
Just as she also knew that she was going to marry him.
Over the following years, her crush died down quite a bit. It was Quidditch that helped her mostly—well, Quidditch, and Hermione. As soon as the older girl started hanging out with the Weasleys over their summers and Christmases after Ginny's second year, the two of them quickly became best friends. Ginny confessed her feelings for Harry, and Hermione likewise for Ron. And so, Ginny started doing what Hermione told her to do: by becoming Harry's friend and getting to know him as such, thus quenching the heartbreak and tears by a considerable amount.
For Ginny, it was now working wonders. She thought it had all been lost when Harry asked her to go to the Yule Ball with him and she had to tell him she was already going with Neville, but in her fourth year after Harry broke up with Cho, something changed. Her part in the Department of Mysteries seemed to solidify her friendship with the three of them, and spending the summer with Harry garnered his attention much more. She started spending more time with her brother's friends than her own.
As much as she hated seeing her brother screw things up with Hermione, who was quickly becoming her best friend, it was because of this that Harry started to hang out with her more.
On the one hand, it was nice—more than nice.
It was here she got to know him more as Ron and Hermione saw him, instead of how the rest of the wizarding world saw him, or her family even. She liked it when he came and sat with her during lunch, or sat with her in the common room, or walked with her part-way to her next class just so he could be away from Ron and Lavender—or Krum and Hermione—sucking face.
But on the other hand...she simply hated seeing Harry lose his best friends this way. She hated the look he got on his face every time Ron and Lavender moved towards him, or when Hermione entered the room, saw Ron, and left. He was spending more than half his time chasing after one or the other, pleading with them to come to terms.
And Ginny alone noticed the strain that the D.A. lessons, Occlumency lessons, Quidditch practices, and other N.E.W.T. classes were doing to him, not to mention the settling weight of the prophecy and how pig-headed his two best friends were being.
It was because of this that she decided to act.
Harry's mind kept turning in circles as he trudged up to the Owlery. It was particularly cold, and rain whipped around the mountainous air, pounding into him as he slipped on the steps more than once.
The cone-shaped ceiling of the Owlery offered him protection, however, and he found a perch with few droppings on it that he could use to write his message to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, who couldn't be found. Dumbledore, who was yet again on another secret mission. Dumbledore, who Harry was trying desperately to get ahold of.
Professor—
I have something urgent that I need to discuss with you. It has to deal with the DE in Hogsmeade. Can we talk tonight after dinner? Let me know.
—Harry
Deciding this tiny snippet was good enough to get the message across, he rolled it into a scroll and tried tying it with twine to Hedwig's taloned leg.
After being in the wizarding world for five years, you'd think I'd have this down better… Harry grimaced as his frozen fingers fumbled with the knot.
This feat proved most treacherous, however, as other owls kept flying too close to the white owl, and she squawked in anger before being fed up with it and taking off up high in the rafters, scroll-less.
Harry swore, and called her back down again so she could deliver the letter. She rebuffed his request.
"Hedwig, you goose, come back here!"
But she refused.
He sighed, and kicked a white, dropping-covered post. Regretting it a second later, he heard sounds just outside the building, and went to see what was going on.
It was Neville.
He was standing on the rocky pathway, wand out, and trying to repel an irate owl that appeared to be attacking him.
Harry at once ran to his aid.
"Protego!" Harry shouted as the bird flew at them again.
The shield protected them both from the feathery onslaught, but this only proved to infuriate the bird more. It flew higher up for another attack.
"Don't you think I've already tried that?" said Neville, as the shield disappeared and Harry quickly cast another. It was thrown up just in time as the talons penetrated it.
"Well, I guess there is nothing else for it," Harry said, grabbing Neville's arm. "Run for it!"
The shield dissipated just as they raced down the path, casting spells at the owl as they went. Back in the direction of the castle, until they got to the door of the castle, slamming it behind them, and collapsing against the back of it. The owl screeched when it realized they got away and there was a flurry of feathers as it tried to get through the door or find an opening. But after a few minutes, they heard it take off.
For a moment they just gasped with breath, chests heaving, until they made eye contact. Then they started laughing.
"Thanks, Harry," Neville said after they quietened down a bit.
"Any time, Nev," Harry replied. "That was so odd though. Why did that bird go mental?"
Neville furrowed his brow and withdrew a long, rectangle package he'd been hiding in his robe. "No idea. I think it was trying to get this."
Harry stared down at the unassuming thing, just slightly smaller than Neville's arm.
"What, is it filled with mice?"
"I...don't really know…"
"What's in it?"
Neville persed his lips. "It's for Dumbledore."
"So...something important?"
"Probably."
Harry nodded, knowing Neville wasn't going to give him any hints.
"Go straight to his office," Harry advised. "Don't talk to anyone. Don't pass through any windows. Don't let anyone see it. And don't give it to anyone other than him. Not even McGonagall. Not even Snape. Understand?"
Neville nodded gravely.
And as they parted ways, Harry found himself wondering why Neville was given something that was supposed to go to Dumbledore. What was Neville hiding? And did owls usually have green eyes?
And, quite incidentally, he rather forgot to send that letter to Dumbledore.
Hermione was walking alone down the darkened corridor.
She was patrolling the castle, and Ron had failed to show up to his post yet again. This enraged Hermione like nothing else, but she was determined not to let it get the best of her. So she simply squared her shoulders and marched out of the portrait hole without him.
It was far more eerie travelling through the castle, looking for anything or anyone out of place, by herself.
But she was armed, the Aurors were also patrolling the wards and outskirts of the castle, and Dumbledore was at Hogwarts once again. Nobody would dare attack with him here. Everything was fine.
She passed several portraits, snoring in their slumber, and made her way slowly down to the library. Her wand was lit and held aloft, casting over every nook and cranny.
It helped that she had the Marauders' Map with her. She had taken to keeping it on her every time she patrolled when Ron wasn't with her. Nobody was on the Map within her vicinity but that didn't mean she couldn't do her job. Someone's pet might be out making mischief.
Padfoot and Prongs would be rolling over in their graves if they could see how their Map was being used to stop mischief rather than to cause it, she thought wryly.
She had just rounded the corner, library in full view, when she saw a cloak disappear through the double library doors.
Heart skipping, Hermione scoured the Map.
Nobody was in the library.
Brow furrowed, she edged closer to the doors, peering inside the eerily ominous cathedral of a room.
Nobody within view. Nobody on the Map.
But she wasn't seeing things...was she?
Creeping farther in, Hermione didn't see the spell zooming towards her until just in time.
Map fluttered to the floor. Shield flew up. The Death Eater stepped into view, two wands pointing at her chest.
And then the duel began.
Hermione parried strike after strike but could hardly find a moment to cast any offensive spell of her own.
He was simply too fast. And every spell was non-verbal.
Well, two can play that game, she thought furiously.
Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy! She thought over and over, sending stunner after stunner his way. He dodged them all explicitly, but then she cast—
Bombarda!
Right over his head at the bookshelves.
They came crashing down on him, and he barely threw up a shield in time.
But he was distracted.
She sent a slipping jinx at his feet, the only thing not covered by his shield, and he fell.
Hermione ran forward, casting stunner after stunner yet again, making sure she actually got him, still wary.
He lay unmoving, surrounded by a cascade of books.
Wand never leaving his form, Hermione edged closer. Prepared for him to spring up and attack her, nevermind the stunners.
The moonlight shone through the latticed windows, cutting apart the shadows and alighting on the Death Eater's mask on his face.
Closer still, she came forward, till she was just feet from him.
Closer...closer…
Shaking breath, Hermione whispered the disappearing charm on his mask, and finally saw with a horrified gasp who the double-wanded Death Eater was.
It was Harry.
His green eyes snapped open and he rose up. In her shock, she couldn't stop him as he raised both wands against her, eyes evil and furious, and hissed those two words that she feared the most.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Harry's eyes snapped open.
The long, drawn-out scream, which had woken him from his sleep, continued on.
He threw himself out of bed, falling to the floor as his feet got tangled in the sheets. Fingers fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses and wand.
Then he was off. Down the stairs. To the common room. Where nothing appeared out of place.
The scream had ended.
Whispers echoed down to him from the girls' staircase, and Harry looked up at it, perplexed.
And then, finally, Hermione emerged.
She had her periwinkle nightrobe on, barely covering her white pajama shirt and bottoms, and her slippers muffled her footsteps as she alighted down the last stair. Eyes were red from crying, and her hair, loosely plaited and hanging down over one shoulder, could hardly help hide her tear-streaked face.
Hesitating when she saw Harry there, she nevertheless walked to the sofa in front of the cold and dead fireplace. Harry's concern for her doubled when he saw she wasn't done crying, and he hung near the sofa, unsure of what to do.
"It's nothing, Harry," she croaked, not facing him. "Just a nightmare. I'm not...being attacked or anything. You can go back to bed."
She pulled her robe tighter around, and Harry saw she was shivering.
He hurried forward and started a fire in the grate, which roared to life almost instantly.
Hermione stared at the dancing flames. "Thank you," she whispered.
Harry sat beside her, staring at her face. "You didn't take Dreamless Potion, did you?"
A pause. Then a head shake.
"Hermione…"
He stopped, uncertain of what to say. So he chose compassion. Putting his arm around her, Harry settled on the cushion beside her, and she gratefully leaned into him.
"Tell me all about it," he said.
Haltingly, and with much embarassment, Hermione told him the nightmare. Of how she was patrolling the corridors by herself, and then found the Death Eater in the library. And Harry grew completely still when she said that it was him.
"...and then you killed me," Hermione said simply. "And I woke up screaming, and everyone in my dorm was awake, and Merlin, was I horrified. I didn't mean to disrupt everyone's sleep. I told them to just go back to bed, but I knew I couldn't sleep after that. So I thought maybe I'd read by the fire…"
"You didn't bring a book," he noted.
She blinked. "Oh."
Harry tried to chuckle, to aleviate the tension, but it hardly came out.
Hermione sniffled, and wiped at her face again.
Heart-breaking, Harry whispered, "I'm really sorry I killed you."
That did it.
Hermione chuckled and she shoved his shoulder with her own. "I guess dream-me had it coming. I did attack you too."
Staring into the fire, Harry cleared his throat. "You don't...really...think that Death Eater that attacked you is me, do you?"
Hermione chuckled again. "Of course I don't, Harry. For one thing, you fought him off in that clearing. For another, you couldn't hurt a fly."
"Oy!" he said, taking offense.
"Sorry. I take that back. You couldn't hurt an innocent fly. An evil, Skeeter-like bug on the other hand...that, I wouldn't mind you killing."
He grinned at the smile on her face, and knew his job was complete.
But as they settled into a comfortable silence, Harry grew more and more disturbed. The thought of him being that Death Eater...of him killing...anything…
Even Voldemort.
Harry wasn't who Hermione thought he was at all. He couldn't be.
You couldn't hurt a fly, she'd said.
And yet, that's who he had to become now.
A murderer.
A nagging guilt stole into Harry's mind, and as he sat with Hermione on the sofa in the Common Room, Harry was yet again overwhelmed by it. He pulled Hermione into him more compassionately and shoved the guilt aside as she smiled and settled against his chest in a friendly gesture.
I can't tell her yet. It's not the right time.
There was a noise on the stairs behind them, but Harry didn't turn his head around to see who it was because another, even equally unsettling, thought surfaced in his mind.
Maybe she never has to know.
Shock invaded Harry at this.
Could he? Could he just...not tell Hermione and Ron that he was slated to become a murderer?
The idea sounded so appealing in his head. A low growl of approval almost came out of his throat, but he remembered himself and stopped it just in time.
Hermione took no notice.
"I know you'd never, ever harm anyone," said Hermione as they stared at the fire. "I'm sorry I told you about my dream. I'm sorry for dreaming it, really. And don't you dare go thinking that I think that of you! Of course I don't! I have no idea why I dreamed that, really. You're so...honest. And you're so good, Harry..."
Harry grinned, and followed her lead in the consoling compliments. "Not near as good as you."
She laughed, her lighthearted musical voice echoed in the Common Room. Merlin above, did Harry need to hear that laugh.
Yet...the red-clawing guilt that Harry felt at lying to her only intensified.
If only he could be as convinced of his goodness as she was.
She gave him a small smile, eyes glistening in the firelight. "Thank you, Harry. That means a lot to me… You mean a lot to me."
"And you, me," said Harry, looking earnestly into her eyes.
What could have happened to her on Saturday...what did happen to her...and he hadn't even been there for it.
"You know I love you, right?" said Harry platonically with a laugh. "I couldn't live if anything happened to you…"
The smile on her face grew, and his heart warmed just looking at her. He drew her closer, breathing in her hair, and all he could think about was Greyback.
Greyback hurting her, Greyback on top of her, Greyback sniffing her, Greyback trying to bite her…
He was never going to let go of his best friend ever again.
"I love you too, Harry," she said, hugging him. Then sighed. "Ron be damned."
Harry chuckled. Of course there was no way he could replace Ron in her eyes. She loved Harry like a brother. But she loved Ron like a...well...something more. Harry reddened just thinking about it. But who was to say which love was stronger? Familial or romantic? They were both equally strong.
And love was going to be the thing that saved him.
Gratitude for his not-quite-sister overwhelmed him for helping him remember this, and Harry knew that everything was going to be all right.
He kissed the top of her head.
"Just forget about Ron, all right?" he whispered to her. "He doesn't know how much you actually mean to me…"
Quite unluckily for them—and himself—Ron had come into the Common Room just minutes earlier.
Hermione's scream was the first thing to jar him out of his slumber, and Harry crashing around before slamming open the door was the second thing.
Ron was just moments behind him (but far quieter).
Fear had sliced through him till he went down the stairs and heard Hermione telling Harry her dream, and his heart went back to normal.
A dream. That's all that was.
And he turned around to go back up the stairs, not wanting her to see his concern for her when he was supposed to be mad at her.
But then he heard her laugh at something Harry said, and his curiosity took him farther down the stairs until he could see them.
His thoughts of apologizing to Hermione for the idiotic things he said (and didn't even mean, really...he knew she wasn't just attracted to Seekers...not really…) stopped flying about his head, however, as soon as he saw the two of them together.
Holding hands.
Her body flush up against his.
His arm around her.
Her head laying on his shoulder.
His head resting on her hair.
Whispering something in her ear.
Staring into his eyes.
Cuddling.
The words they were saying to each other dug into Ron's brain, leaving scratch marks and drawing blood.
A fury unlike any Ron had ever known rose unbidden in him.
It was like a dragon clawing its way out.
Fiery fumes billowing in his chest.
Smoke trickling out his nostrils.
His hands clenched into fists.
"You're so good, Harry…"
It tried to break out of his chest with a mighty shriek of rage.
"Not near as good as you…"
It tried to make its presence known to his two…former…best friends.
"You mean a lot to me…"
Ron walked backwards, not giving the dragon the satisfaction.
"And you, me…"
He turned back up the stairs.
"You know I love you, right?"
Back the way he came.
"I couldn't live if anything happened to you…"
Back up to his dormitory.
"I love you too, Harry…"
The dragon retracted its ugly head and settled back down in its cave.
"Ron be damned…"
And all that replaced it was grief.
"Ron be damned…"
Grief and heartache.
"Ron be damned…"
Ron wondered if Hermione even knew about what happened to him in Hogsmeade. He wondered if she even knew that the Death Eater who attacked them at the start of term came back to try and finish the job.
"Forget about Ron…"
Did she know about him passing out?
"Forget about Ron…"
Did she know about him saving those girls?
"Forget about Ron…"
Did she know about the death threat?
"Forget about Ron…"
Did she know that he was now walking about the castle with a target on his back, and that Order members were now silently shadowing his every move when he wasn't in classes or in Gryffindor tower?
"Forget about Ron…"
Did she know how much danger he was in?
"...he doesn't know how much you actually mean to me…"
Did she even care?
Ginny Weasley had a plan of action.
It required Ron and Hermione to both be in the common room together at a certain time. Without Harry.
It was over the past few days that Ginny noticed the change in the dynamics between Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Ron had started avoiding Harry.
Several times, Harry tried to ask him what was wrong, but although Ron just forced a smile and said nothing, Ginny and Harry both knew something was up. It was as if Ginny's brother had started acting mechanical in front of them, answering in a weird voice, acting like everything was peachy...but Ginny could see Ron staring at Harry when he thought nobody was looking.
It was just like that night Harry had got back from the Triwizard Tournament, expecting Ron to believe he hadn't put his name in the Goblet, Harry told Ginny one day. But instead, he had been confronted by a nonchalant, angrily jealous Ron.
"Only, I have no idea what Ron could be jealous of this time," Harry had said in anguish.
Ginny didn't know either.
But she sure as hell going to fix the problem.
"Ron!" Ginny called, as they made their way back from the Quidditch pitch for practice later the next day. "Listen, I need to talk to you about something. Could you meet me in the common room at midnight tonight? And make sure Harry doesn't follow you down!"
To Hermione, who was getting off her patrol around that time, Ginny said the same thing.
Her plan of action firmly in place, she waited with bated breath until she could pull it off.
And so it was that Ginevra Molly Weasley could be found ten minutes past midnight, pacing in front of the fireplace.
Ron came down first, already dressed in his paisley pajamas. "I had to wait until Harry was snoring. Now what in Godric's good name do you want, Ginny, that you couldn't tell me in the middle of the day?"
The portrait hole opened to reveal Hermione, still in school uniform attire, just come from patrolling the corridors. She caught sight of Ron first and narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here? Skivving off your duties again? I had to do patrol by myself. Again."
"Is this an intervention?" Ron looked at Ginny accusingly. "I'm going to bed."
"Oh no, you don't!" Ginny said angrily as both of them made to head up to their prospective dorms. "I didn't come this far to trick you both into meeting me here tonight just for you to walk out on me now. I need to talk to you both about Harry."
"What about him?" Ron sneered.
Hermione huffed. "I'm still friends with him, at least. I couldn't say the same for Ron."
"Oh, really?" Ron said, jeering at Hermione. "You off snogging Harry now when you aren't in a broom cupboard with Krum?"
"OY!" Ginny shouted before Hermione could react. "Are you going to be civil to each other or not? I need to talk to you about Harry, and if you're not going to stand there voluntarily, I will Petrify you! Don't think I won't—I certainly don't need your mouths working to say what I have to."
Ron stepped over the back of the couch and settled onto it, cross-legged and scowling. "Fine."
Hermione stayed where she was, glaring at the back of Ron's head. "I'm listening."
Ginny sighed and smoothed her mane of red hair.
"Thank you," she said. "Now I don't know if either of you have noticed—what with your own issues in making-out with anything human that breathes—but Harry is not doing so well. He's got way too much on his platter right now and you both need to get over yourselves and just be his friends!"
Ron spluttered. "What do you mean 'he's got way too much on his platter'? His life is perfect right now! His scar hasn't been hurting, You-Know-Who's not plaguing his mind anymore, no Death Eaters are currently trying to kill him, he's finally got over Sirius dying, he gets to be designated professor to half the school, Dumbledore's giving him special lessons, and he gets to be Quidditch Captain!" he said, looking surly while counting Harry's feats on both hands. "Oh, not to mention, he's now known to the world as the 'Chosen One' and Dumbledore's right-hand man, and all the girls at Hogwarts are swooning all over him. As if to add injury to the matter, he's got—h-he's—" But he cut off abruptly, face red, as he glared over at Hermione. Ginny could tell it was about her. But whatever he was going to say was far too private. He finished vehemently. "He's got everything he could possibly want!"
"That's not fair, Ron, he's not—" said Hermione.
"Do you hear something, Ginny?" gritted Ron, pointedly ignoring her.
"Ron, you great prat, I mean about the prophecy!" Ginny snapped. "He's doing all of this stuff because of it! You know how he's been all summer—ever since he heard what it said about him, he's been worrying himself sick! He thinks he's the only one who can defeat Voldemort, and he's now going about learning things like crazy—with all of these things he has going on, it's a wonder he's still sane—"
"Wait, what?" said Ron, standing up. "Didn't you hear, the prophecy's gone—it was smashed on those steps—nobody knows what it was about—"
Ginny sighed, exasperated. Why is Ron such an idiot, sometimes? He knows it's not gone, Harry told him—
"You can stop pretending like you don't know anything—I know it's not gone! Harry's known all this time what it was about—Dumbledore told him all about it at the end of last year, and he told me about it ages ago! Didn't he tell you that I know—"
She abruptly stopped.
In that one second, she became aware of Ron's dangerously narrowed eyes—of Hermione's ashen face and jaw-dropped mouth—and suddenly knew that she had just done something unequivocally and irrevocably unforgivable.
Until now, it had never occurred to Ginny that Harry might have told her about the prophecy before he told his two best friends. The very idea was absurd—he told Ron and Hermione everything—he'd had the end of June to do it, not counting the entire summer he spent with them, or September, or October...
She was flabbergasted. How could he not have told them? How could he have told me but not them? And how could I have been such an idiot and blurted it out?
"You—you didn't know?" she gasped. "But I—I thought he told you—I thought you knew—"
"Thought who knew what?"
To make matters even worse, it was Harry who had spoken. He had just come down from his room, night-robe on, feet in slippers, black hair more tousled than ever.
"Harry!" she whispered, face stricken. "I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I thought you told them!"
Ron and Hermione stared at Harry. He looked quite alarmed when he saw their faces.
"You knew?" Hermione spoke at last. "You knew what the prophecy said?"
Harry opened his mouth, but it was too late.
"YOU LIED TO US!" roared Ron. "You TOLD us that you didn't know what it said—that after it was smashed, that was it! How could you bloody KNOW what it said—how could you KNOW and NOT TELL US—"
"Ron, I—"
"But you had NO PROBLEM telling HER, is that it? After everything the three of us have been through—you tell MY LITTLE SISTER instead? After EVERYTHING—"
"But I was going to—"
"After EVERYTHING! We've risked our bloody LIVES for you! Over and OVER—we've HELPED you fight back at YOU-KNOW-WHO—we've BEEN there for you the WHOLE DAMN TIME, and THIS is how you—?"
"I tried to tell you, Ron, but—"
"There were DEATH EATERS there! They tried to KILL us! Hermione was as good as DEAD! I went MENTAL! We risked our BLOODY LIVES for that DAMNED PROPHECY, and you CONVENIENTLY forgot to tell us what it EFFING SAID—!"
"I know I should have told you, but I was afraid, all right?" Harry finally broke in. "I was afraid! Just like I was afraid that if I told Dumbledore about Voldemort being after you, you wouldn't be able to do anything you wanted anymore! That your life as you knew it would be over! That you guys wouldn't want to be friends with me any more! I thought that by not telling him, I was saving you the pain of being my friend!"
"Wait, what?" Ginny gasped.
The silence in the room at this was deafening. All too late, Harry realized he let something slip that probably shouldn't have been public knowledge.
Ginny was caught up on the jaw-dropping "Voldemort being after you" part of this conversation, but Ron and Hermione had zeroed in on something else entirely.
Ron just stared at him.
"You didn't…" Ron took a deep breathe, then hissed, "You didn't tell Dumbledore?"
"I was going to, Ron—I was—I wrote the letter and everything, but then—"
"YOU-KNOW-WHO MIGHT BE AFTER MY WHOLE FAMILY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T TELL DUMBLEDORE? YOU-KNOW-WHO COULD BE KILLING THEM RIGHT NOW—!"
Ginny was completely frozen. Dumbfounded.
What the hell was going on?
"I'm sorry I haven't told him yet, Ron—I should have—"
"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! After EVERYTHING we have done for you! The effing Death Eater cursed HERMIONE instead of you! He cursed ME instead of you! Where were you when he was making us SCREAM in PAIN?"
Ginny tried in vain to intervene. "Ron, he tried to save you—"
But Ron's fury focused solely on Harry.
"WELL YOU DIDN'T TRY HARD ENOUGH! If you had just gone to Dumbledore when you SAID you were going to, that attack in Hogsmeade NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED! We would have been PROTECTED! We never even should have BEEN THERE! Because of YOU, I was almost BLOODY KILLED, and YOU—YOU weren't even THERE—!"
"Ron, believe me, I wish I was, but—"
"OH YEAH? WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU WHEN HERMIONE WAS UNDER THE CRUCIATUS? OR WHEN SHE WAS CURSED INTO CRYING BLOOD? OR WHEN WAS BEING ATTACKED BY A FUCKING WEREWOLF?" Ron roared, completely red in the face.
Ginny gasped, hands flying up to her mouth.
"She what—" Ginny said, aghast.
Harry's face had never before been so white. He moved forward toward them, but Ron refused to let Harry near Hermione.
"How can you even look at us in the eye after that?" snarled Ron, shoving Harry against the wall. "Our parents might be DEAD now because of you!"
Ginny was far too shocked to stand up for Harry this time.
Harry was far too shocked to even stand up for himself.
Ron gave him one last shove.
"You can go to hell for all I care!" he spat in Harry's face.
Without another word, he stomped up the stairs.
Slowly…
Agonizingly…
Harry picked himself up, and looked over at Hermione.
She was still standing where she'd been all along, but if Ginny thought she would react the same way Ron did, she was dead wrong. The brunette's face was still white, but now there were tears streaming down it. Her eyes were bright and glassy, quite like they were when she had been Petrified, but now they were staring at Harry, looking utterly hurt and betrayed.
"How could you?"
It was just three words, said in a whisper, but the look on her face was just as bad as everything Ron had said.
"I trusted you!" Hermione said in anguish.
Without another word, she turned around and ran up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.
Harry and Ginny were now alone.
Ginny made her way towards him slowly. He had sunk to the ground against the wall, knees up, head in hands.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," said Ginny miserably. "I understand if you never want to speak to me again."
He didn't say anything as she followed Hermione up the stairs until his forlorn form was out of her sight. Leaving him completely alone once again.
Ginevra Molly Weasley had just made things utterly worse.
Author's Note:
Dun dun DUN! This was quite honestly one of my favorite chapters to write. I mean, y'all well know how much I looove action scenes! But having Ron shout at Harry like that...sigh...be still my beating heart.
Here is the 25th chapter! We are now officially halfway through this story, which has just been upgraded to 50 chapters, yay for you. I did write the Death Eater attacking Ron scene and the werewolf attacking Hermione scene as the mid-climax...not sure if any of you picked up on that...
All this teen angst! How ever will they get over it? Definitely not in the next chapter, hint hint, which is coincidentally called "Draco and the Dean"...
Which will be coming to you just as soon as you review...
