THE TOMB OF GRYFFINDOR

The horrors of the day before were still very much with them, lingering at the forefront of their minds even as they went back to their regular activities. Ron, Harry, and Ginny were all discharged from the hospital wing, although they still went up to visit Hermione in between their other activities. Ron was given more healing salve to help with the burn marks after a full magical debridement from Madam Pomfrey. He was told that although regular fires would leave no lingering damage, magical dragon fire was particularly nasty and was bound to leave some scars.

Charlie loved them when he saw them, though. He said chicks dig it. Maybe keeping the scars wouldn't be so bad...

His talk with Charlie was...painful, to say the least. The look on his older brother's face was tortuous as he apologized and basically enslaved himself to Ron.

"I mean it, Ron, whatever you need, I'll do it," Charlie finished as they hugged.

And when he went out, Ron was just left feeling confused. Of course he forgave Charlie...but standing there in battle, trying to dodge the Killing Curse from his brother...it was definitively one of the worst moments of his life.

Hermione, meanwhile, was doing much better, though she was still in the hospital wing. Thanks to the Blood Replenishing Potion she was given and Madam Pomfrey's quick work with the wand, Hermione wouldn't have any scar due to the nasty cut on her head. Her arms and face were looking loads better, just small residual scarring from the cursed blade.

As to the newly-opened scar on her chest (Ron colored at this part), Snape's healing her in the woods did what it could, although Madam Pomfrey's healing seemed to do the most wonders. She had to keep applying some sort of lotiony potion onto it, but Madam Pomfrey had said that after about a dozen more applications of it as well as a few more treatments of anti-curse healing, the scarring and the pain should become at least somewhat manageable.

"Merlin, it's just horrible though," said Ginny.

She, Ron, and Harry were all walking down the Grand Staircase Tower on Sunday evening. It was dinner-time and Ron was starving.

"I know," said Ron gloomily, just as Harry said "What is?"

"Hermione, of course. Everything that happened. I know I couldn't handle it if something like that happened to me. I'd be scared shitless," she said with a shiver. "She's probably going to have nightmares for weeks. We'll need to make sure she takes the Dreamless Sleep Potion every night."

"Er, hang on," Harry said, stopping abruptly beside a large painting near the Gargoyle Corridor. "I forgot the Marauders' Map in my room. Wait here while I go get it?"

He ran off, and Ron and Ginny's conversation moved back to Charlie and their parents. Dad and Mum were heartbroken when they'd heard and said they would be coming to check on them both: Ron for almost having been killed (again), and Ginny for almost falling to her death during the match. Neither of them were quite looking forward to this, but it was to be expected as they were the 'babies' of the family.

"Merlin, Mum needs a new hobby," Ron complained. "Someone else she can baby, seeing as we're both almost adults."

"Well, as soon as Bill and Fleur marry, they can make actual babies and then she'll have her hands full with spoiling grandkids. I heard Percy's relationship with Penelope is advancing. He might be proposing to her soon. Pity Tonks is still in the hospital, I know Charlie fancied her. Have you heard any news, by the way? On poor Tonks?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," said Ron sadly. "I asked Charlie. She still hasn't woken. Poor bloke."

He leaned up against the large portrait, whose occupant tried shoving him away. After several seconds of being jilted by the whole frame, Ron gave up and moved away from it. It was as he was moving away from it, however, that he noticed it.

"Oy, Ginny?"

"Mmm?" She was still studying her fingernails.

"What do you know about Godric Gryffindor?"

"He was a Gryffindor. Why?"

"Well, duh. I mean...he was never a headmaster because the Founders ruled equally back then, but did he have any ties to the Grand Staircase Tower?"

"Why would I know? And why are you being so specific?"

Ron sighed, frustrated that useless Ginny was with him instead of Hermione. "Because I found a little lion carving in the wood by this painting, which means Gryffindor's tomb might be here—"

"What?" Ginny squealed.

"—but this doesn't make any sense as he was never a headmaster, so...why put it in this corridor?" Ron finished.

"Oh, who cares why? We found it!"

"I found it. Unless your fingernails have magical finding skills, I don't think they did much work—"

"You found what?"

Harry had come to join them.

"The Tomb of Gryffindor! Look, Harry!"

"What?"

"Come on, open the Map, let's see how to get inside!"

"We should...we should wait for the others, shouldn't we?" Ron asked, hesitating.

They nodded.

"I'll go get them, they're probably at dinner!" Ginny said, and took off, tearing the Map out of Harry's hands.

Beyond excited, Ron and Harry couldn't wait to run to the hospital wing and tell Hermione. When they got there, she was sitting up in bed, wearing normal clothes again, as Madam Pomfrey discharged her.

"Wait, what?" Ron asked, slowing to a stop beside them. "You're discharging her already? But what about—has Dumbledore approved of this—"

"Of course Professor Dumbledore has approved!" Madam Pomfrey tsked. "What do you take me for, some hooligan letting children run wild with their shenanigans? There is nothing else I can do for her, Mr. Weasley, and as long as she keeps taking those potions quite religiously, she will be fine. Now off with you, children! Shoo!"

The boys didn't have to be told twice.

Harry grabbed Hermione's bag, and Ron got Hermione's basket of potions from Pomfrey. They took Hermione's arms gingerly as they helped her out of the wing under the watchful hawk-eye of the matron.

"What're you two—you know I can walk—" Hermione said, exasperated.

The minute they turned the corner, the boys broke into a sprint, pulling her along after them.

"Hermione, come on! You have to see this!" Harry said excitedly, yanking at her arm. She stopped resisting and followed them willingly after that.

By the time they got to the Gargoyle Corridor, Ginny, Neville, Meghan, and Luna were waiting breathlessly for them.

"What are you two on about?" Hermione said, frustrated, pulling herself out of their grips. Her face was rather pink, her eyebrows knitted together in concern and frustration, and a lock of hair had broken free from her hair clips and fallen into her face. Ron grinned at her, unaware he was staring, and tucked her hair behind her ear without thinking about it.

"We wanted to wait for you, Hermione. We found the Tomb of Gryffindor!" he said.

"You did?" she breathed, a smile coming at once to her face. "Ron, that's wonderful!"

There were exclamations from the others as well, but Ron wasn't paying attention to them. He led Hermione over to the tiny little lion engraved on the side of the painting. It was only now that he realized that it was Godric Gryffindor in the portrait, standing tall with his brandished sword, and looking rather pleased with all the attention.

It didn't take them long to cast the spell the Map told them to, and then they stepped inside.

Just like the two other tombs before them, Gryffindor's was elaborate and finely (albeit dustily) furnished. A hush of silence encompassed them as they walked about the chamber to the large sarcophagus settled grandly on a raised dais like the throne of long-ago king.

"It kind of makes sense, doesn't it," whispered Ron. "As amazing as he was, he was a wee bit pompous. Fancied himself a warrior king. Of course he would think planting his tomb in the grandest tower of Hogwarts would befit a wizard of his status…"

"This is amazing!" Ginny gasped, picking up a vase off a shelf that still held an eternal rose alive and flourishing in it.

"And the sword is in Dumbledore's office, of course," Harry said aloud, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt before sticking them back on his nose and looking around. "Rather dusty in here, isn't it?"

"Wouldn't that be so cool if you were really Gryffindor's Heir, Harry?" Ron asked. "I mean, you're a Potter, and that's a really long line of purebloods...you're probably related to the Dumbledores…I mean, you're no Sacred Twenty-Eight, but..."

"Heirs wouldn't have to belong to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, though," said Neville, leaning against a corbeled alcove. "I mean you could still be an heir even if you have some Muggle ancestry as well. One of Rowena's girls was a Squib. She married a Muggle, didn't she? So all their Muggle children would be heirs even if they don't have much magical blood."

"You're very right, Neville," said Hermione, tracing her wandlight along the sarcophagus and reading the runes upon it. She bent down lower to find more, but stopped, wincing and rubbing her chest.

"You all right?" Ron asked her in a low voice. The others paid no notice, wandering around the enchanted room.

"Yes, I just...it still hurts, is all."

"You taking your potions?" he said, worried. "You really should keep up on those, you know. If I don't take mine, my arms start burning again like the dickens. Have you?"

"Well, I was going to before two bloody idiots hauled me off like cryptkeepers to their little grave of horrors," Hermione said snidely.

Ron grinned. "Oh, yeah."

She tried walking away, but he pulled her back. "Here, Hermione, take this," he said, handing her a potion vial from the basket he was still carrying for her. It was the same Pain-Be-Gone vial that he'd gotten from Madam Pomfrey. She immediately grabbed it. He uncorked it and pulled out the dropper. "Come on, Hermione...please? For me?"

With a grimace, she shook her head, but he wasn't having it.

"Open," he commanded. Then to his surprise her mouth dropped open, and he squeezed three drops into her mouth. "Thank you," he said, as an afterthought while she struggled swallowing.

"Why do they make it taste like acid?" she asked, face still sour.

"There's probably a rule or something. 'The Healers' Code—Rule One: Every concoction must heretofore taste like piss'," he said.

Hermione laughed.

Pleased at having made her laugh, Ron noticed everyone else was leaving. "Come on, let's go catch up," he said, holding his hand out to her.

She took it, and they walked after the others who were heading down to the kitchens to nick some food since they missed dinner.

Halloween loomed ever closer as the horrible weekend ended and classes began anew. The skies grew darker and darker and the weather turned abysmally cold. It was just the coming winter, they told themselves, although nobody really believed it.

Ron kept a very close eye on Hermione as they walked into the Great Hall Monday morning for breakfast. He was worried for her, that was sure. She wasn't acting herself, but what it was exactly that was going on, he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Everyone kept staring at them as they sat down to eat their food, and Ron glared at quite a few people. Whispering and gossiping could be heard around them. It wasn't all just curiosity, however. Several people came over and asked Hermione how she was and what exactly happened. Face pink, she just told them what they already knew—that the Head Boy brought her to Dolohov, but she was rescued in time. She didn't say anything about her scar or her cat, and absolutely nothing about Moony or Hestia and what happened to them, for fear of anyone finding out about it.

Of course, everyone knew Professor Jones was in the hospital wing anyway. They assumed it had to do with the dragon attack and the fires, but nobody knew exactly why except the Headmaster, the teachers, and the four of them. She still hadn't woken up, although she was out of the woods. Hermione in particular was taking this emotionally hard. It was her fault that Hestia was there trying to find her in the first place, and her fault that Hestia was now a werewolf.

And what was worse, Ron had no idea how to help her with that guilt. He, Harry, and Ginny talked with Hermione before bed the other night in the common room trying to assuage her guilt, but he didn't know if they had even gotten through to her.

The whole situation was hopeless.

The three of them and Neville walked up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom half an hour later, although Ron insisted on carrying Hermione's bookbag for her. When they entered the room, they saw with surprise that Remus Lupin was going to teach the class, looking haggard, tired, and the worse for wear.

"How are you two doing?" he asked Ron and Hermione in a low voice as they sat down. "We are going to be practicing some dueling techniques today, but would you like me to take it easy on the pair of you? You really need to take it slow today, especially you, Hermione. Would you prefer to sit this one out?"

They both shook their heads.

"I don't want preferential treatment, sir," said Hermione. "I'm fine. I can handle it."

"Me too," said Ron. "My burns are fine. But thanks, sir."

Professor Lupin smiled and went back to the front, beginning the lesson as more students trickled in.

"Sadly, Professor Jones is still in the hospital wing from the events of this past weekend, so I will be her substitute today. Now the first spell I am going to teach actually should have been taught in your fifth year. However since Dolores Umbridge changed the curriculum, you were not taught as you should have been. This spell is very handy to use in a duel. It is the Smokescreen Spell. Watch me carefully for the wand movement...Fumos!" he said, moving his wand in an elegant spiral wave going upwards.

The next second, the entire room was filled with coughs, exclamations, and stinging eyes as the whole room became amassed in smoke. Professor Lupin performed the counter-charm, and then (as the none of them could see him before), showed them how to do it by replicating the movements.

He went into the pros and cons of using it in a duel, how it could be made stronger and incapacitate the opponent, or done in smaller bursts to just fill the air around their bodies to hide them.

It was actually a lot of fun, Ron thought. He enlarged the room so they had more space to work with, and divided the class into pairs. He put Ron and Hermione together, which was a relief. Ron was definitely going to go easy on her, and neither of them knew if anyone else would.

And as they left their classroom—many students practicing the spell to make small wisps of smoke appear in the air—Ron saw Hermione grinning in excitement once more.

Perhaps things were looking up after all.

The next few days after that were a whirlwind. Everyone was in a flurry of excitement for the upcoming Halloween Ball on Thursday. The jitters of the weekend's attack gave way to anticipation for the upcoming holiday. Nowhere could Ron go without hearing girls bragging to each other about their dresses or boys boasting about their dates.

Lavender in particular kept talking loudly when she knew Ron was within earshot. Apparently, she would be wearing pink dress robes (of course), and taking Seamus. The two were somewhat of an item recently and Ron sat down to breakfast on Wednesday with Harry with her going on about the new dress she bought.

Over them, steel gray clouds covered the ceiling, and a heavy fog was hovering just feet above their heads. Harry, Ginny, and Maggie McGonagall across from them were grumping about having to practice in this weather tomorrow evening—Ron would have joined them in the conversation if it meant he didn't have to take his eyes off Hermione.

That, in itself, was rather uneventful as it was his favorite pastime and something he had been doing for a very long time…not that he would ever admit it to anyone else, least of all her.

Hermione, however, wasn't talking. She was sitting in between Harry and Lavender Brown today, and when Ron could wrench his eyes from Hermione (which wasn't often), he looked over at Lavender.

The first time he did this, he was surprised to find her glaring at him. When she wasn't doing that, she was shooting daggers at Hermione. It took Ron a while to figure out why Lavender would be mad at her after everything that happened to Hermione over the weekend, but then he pieced it together.

Is Lavender jealous of her?

Taken aback, Ron spooned his oatmeal and stuck it in his mouth, thinking to himself. Why would Lavender be jealous of Hermione? Is it because of the attention Hermione's been getting since she was abducted? But that's ridiculous...who in their right minds would want to go through something like that just so people will look at them? But then...what else could it be?

It really wasn't hard to compare them—his ex-girlfriend and his girl friend. He'd thought at first that Lavender was prettier. She had taken to wearing heaps of make-up on her face, covering her eyelashes with gunk and making her lips and cheeks bright colors. At first, Ron thought that made her look pretty, with her facial features positively popping out. But now…next to Hermione's soft features and gunk-free face, he saw how beautiful Hermione was without all that stuff and he hoped she never wanted it on. Maybe a small bit he could handle, but not the copious amounts Lavender applied.

And it wasn't just the face—it was the hair. When he was dating her, Lavender told him that she could spend hours in the bathroom, fixing it up so it was just right. Not a hair out of place, all of it lavishly curled in big rollers, sleeked down to make it extra bouncy when she walked, topped with a different bow every day. But next to Hermione's own natural wild ringlets that twisted every which way and curled on its own and gave her a sort of halo about her head, Lavender's were nothing.

It was no wonder Ron couldn't stop staring at Hermione, which made Lavender none too happy in the least. She kept folding her arms crossly and scowling which, of course, made her look ten times worse.

But Ron especially loved it when Hermione scowled…that is, when it wasn't aimed at him.

Hermione's scowls always started the same way. Her nose would twitch adorably, her eyes would narrow, and her eyebrows arched perfectly. Then she would do one of three things: fold her arms slowly, her right arm under her left, and tilt her head up; or place her hands on her hips and put all her weight on one leg; or her fingers would tighten their hold on her books so that her knuckles were white, and she'd cast one more withering glare before stalking away.

However, when those scowls were aimed at him, as cute as they were, he always wished himself somewhere else.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

Should I ask her to the Ball? I'm not going with anyone. She's not going with anyone. We could go together…

His heart sped up at that.

"Earth to Ron?"

Ron snapped out of his funk, blinking to see the others were staring at him.

"Er...what?"

"Class is starting in ten minutes. You coming or what?" said Harry, looking amused.

"Er, yeah, yeah," he said, hastily shoveling the rest of his oatmeal down his throat and grabbing a piece of toast for the journey. He followed Hermione and Harry as they walked down to the dungeons, but not feeling the normal detestation he usually felt before Potions.

For one thing, a huge chunk of the Slytherins in their class were gone, thanks to their own diabolical schemes. And for another, Ron found he didn't really mind Snape as much.

Don't get me wrong, he's still a git. But he saved Hermione.

Confused a bit, Ron plunked his stuff down beside Hermione.

Should I ask her out?

No...not ask her out...that would mean something more than it should be...just ask her to the Ball. As friends.

Would she laugh at me?

He didn't think so, somehow. She hardly smiled anymore, let alone laughed.

Would she say no?

That was plausible. But if she said no, would that be the worst thing?

Why would she say no if he only asked her to the ball as friends?

Did she not want to be his friend anymore?

No, that's just ridiculous. Of course she still wants to be friends...

What if she wanted to go with someone else?

He paled at this, hardly paying attention to Snape's lecture about antidotes. Beside him, Hermione's quill was furiously detailing the lesson in her neat script.

She has such neat handwriting. Everything about her is just so...neat. The way she dresses. The way she walks. The way she talks. Not her hair, of course. Her hair is too wild to be neat.

And suddenly he found himself staring at her again.

There was a scraping of chairs around him as his classmates got up, and he realized belatedly that they were supposed to be getting the ingredients for the potion.

What potion they were doing, however, he had no clue.

Hermione came back from the ingredients cupboard, setting the stash of nasty-looking things on the table beside their now-simmering cauldron. She grimaced as she took her seat, however, and he couldn't stop staring at how her hands clutched at where her scar was.

"Why don't...why don't you sit back and let me do this part," he said, worried.

"No, I can do it," she insisted.

"Let me, Hermione," he ordered. Immediately, Hermione sat back and put down the stirring stick. Pleased, Ron tried to read Snape's scrawl on the board.

"Here, pass me the salamander eggs," he said.

She passed the vial to him, and he measured out a teaspoon before dumping them in.

Ask her.

"Will you hand me the doxy wings?"

No, not that question.

She handed them to him.

Ask her to the ball.

"Now you'll need to stir it clockwise for three minutes while I slowly add in the dragon blood," he said.

Ask her, ask her, ask her.

At once, she started stirring. For three minutes, Ron carefully added the blood, trying not to get queasy. Hermione was turning whiter and whiter, though, and he was concerned she was going to pass out from the stench of blood.

"Okay, now stop," Ron said, as the timer ended.

At once, she stopped.

Wait, why is she acting like this? Letting me...take charge? Normally she can be right selfish with the ingredients, for fear I will mess it up…shouldn't she be fighting me more?

He shrugged. Maybe she really wasn't feeling well.

"Psst! Hermione, come here," whispered Harry from the next aisle over. He was paired with Neville, and they both seemed to have trouble with their potion. Ron looked over and saw that Snape had left the room. Standing up, Hermione walked over to Harry to help.

Suspicious, Ron watched her, then acted nonchalant when she came back over.

"What did he want?" said Ron, adding in a small pinch of white powder.

"Nothing," Hermione said, turning pink.

Did Harry ask her to go with him to the ball?

"Oh, come on."

No, can't be, he's going with Ginny.

"No, Ron, that was between me and him," she said sternly.

Unless...wait...did Neville ask her to go to the ball with him?

"You can tell me, you know," he insisted.

Please say you're still free, please say you're still free...

Then, to his utter surprise, instead of getting mad at him for pushing and to bugger off, she told him. "He told me to ask you if you want to go to the Halloween Ball tomorrow as friends," she said, tone wooden.

Yay!

Blinking back his surprise, Ron was rather pleased with Harry.

"Well. Do you?"

"I don't...know. I was thinking of not going…" she said.

"What?"

"I just don't feel very good. My dress robes probably won't cover up my scar. It will last really late...I just don't know, Ron."

"Oh, please, Hermione, it will be fun. Tell me you will go?"

"I will go."

"...wait, what?" Ron stared at her, confused. "But you just said you didn't want to."

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, just take it! She said she wants to go with you!

The confused look on Hermione's face didn't answer his question, but he didn't want to push it further. They both finished Phase Three of the potion, and sat back to let the antidote stew for a few minutes.

"Ron, would you mind?" Hermione whispered to him. She smiled, and Ron knew she was trying to distract him.

"Mind? Going to the ball with you? As friends? Of course I wouldn't mind, Hermione. You know I'd love that," he answered.

"No...I mean getting the Phase Four ingredients? I don't feel so well. I forgot to take my potions again this morning."

"Hermione," he lectured. "Why do you keep forgetting? This is the third time this week!"

"I don't know, I'm sorry. They make it hard to think straight, and they make me so tired. I hate taking them…"

"Well, why don't you ask to be excused from class? I can do this potion myself, you don't need to worry about me. I'm sure Professor Snape would understand—he was there that night—"

"It's not that bad, Ron, really I don't—"

There was a clatter beside them as Malfoy dropped his Potions book on the floor beside Hermione's feet. They turned to look at him, and he just stared at Hermione.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Granger?" Malfoy said suddenly, quite loudly. "Get my book for me."

There was abated breath in the room as everyone watched. Of course Hermione would just scowl at him and snap at him to get it himself. Or roll her eyes and ignore him.

But what she did astonished them all, and the pieces all clicked into place in Ron's head.

Hermione bent down, and picked up Malfoy's book, then plunked it down onto his desk. Ron was all too aware that she didn't snap at the Slytherin. She didn't glare at him. She didn't say anything. But there was something about the confusion on her face. The way her hands were starting to shake. And Ron realized what was happening the exact same moment she did.

"Hermione…" he whispered, once everyone had gone back to work. "Give me your wand."

Shakily, she held it out to him.

But he didn't take it.

"Look at me."

She looked at him.

"How long has this been going on?" he whispered, shocked.

"I don't know…"

"Yes, you do. Tell me."

"Since Saturday night," she immediately answered. "Ever since Dolohov had me. But I guess I didn't realize it until just now."

"How could you not realize it?" he hissed, astonished.

She looked like a mooncalf caught in wandlight.

"And is there a reason the pair of you refuse to work?" drawled Snape's cold voice behind them.

Guiltily, they looked up at him.

"Sir, she needs to leave. She's not feeling very well. Can she be excused from class today? I can finish this potion without a partner," said Ron. The politeness in his voice was startling. Both to him and Professor Snape, as well as everyone within earshot.

Snape looked down at Hermione, who colored under his gaze. There was a silence.

"Yes," he said tersely, then added in a louder voice, "If Miss Granger thinks she is smart enough that she can ace the test next week without making the potion, which I highly doubt. Now get out of my sight."

"Yes, professor," she murmured, standing up with her bag. They all watched her as she walked out, and Ron couldn't help but feeling one-part worried and two-parts scared.

Things have just gone horribly wrong.

For the rest of the lesson, Ron couldn't wait till class ended. When it finally did, he grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him out of the room.

"Ron, what—"

"We have to find Hermione."

They stopped at an alcove and Ron took the Map from Harry's bag.

"Hang on, I don't see Dumbledore on here. Why is he always gone?"

"Look, Hermione's on the third floor, see—"

"—and Lupin isn't on here either, seriously what the hell—"

"Ron, what are you on about?"

"Something is wrong with Hermione!" Ron hissed. "We have to find her and tell someone, come on—!"

He took off again, and Harry raced behind him. Up the stairs, down the corridor, up more stairs, down another hall, then more stairs again until they bumped into Hermione in a very busy hallway. Breathless, they all ducked into an empty classroom and locked the door.

"I tried to find Professor Dumbledore, Ron, but he isn't here," said Hermione, worried.

"I know, I looked on the Map," Ron said. "Lupin isn't here either. I don't know who we're supposed to tell."

"Madam Pomfrey, do you think—?"

"Could one of you just tell me what the hell is going on?" Harry shouted, frustrated.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"Go on, show him," Hermione whispered, bracing herself.

"Just try to resist it, okay?" said Ron.

Hermione nodded. Harry watched them both, perplexed.

"Clap your hands," Ron told Hermione loudly.

There was only a moment's hesitation, then Hermione obeyed.

Ron's stomach sank. "Sit down."

She sat on the chair beside them, and Harry's confusion turned into worry.

"I don't know what's happening to me," Hermione whispered. "Why am I being forced to obey? I can't do anything to stop it."

"What...what does it feel like?" Harry asked, starting to pace.

"Like...being under the Imperius again. Only different. When you tell me to do something, Ron, my body just starts doing it without my permission. It's not that I am made to want to do it, like the Imperius, or like I start feeling good. My limbs just start moving of their own accord," said Hermione.

"It had to have been the knife," said Ron darkly. "Dolohov's cursed knife. When it cut into your skin, the curse mixed with your blood. I've...I've heard of a curse doing that before. It used to be really popular in pureblood circles hundreds of years ago. It was called the Angorian Curse. It made the victim be compelled to obey. Fathers would do it to sons, husbands would do it to wives. It's really sick, is what it is…."

"A-and you think that's what happened to Hermione?" Harry said, looking sick. They sat down heavily on the chairs.

Someone...some damn righteous bastard is making her obey. Who...who does that to people? To Muggle-borns? Ron thought, a fury rising within him that he hadn't felt for a while.

It was wrong. Sick and wrong and Merlin, was Dolohov going to pay for this...

Ron's grip on the chair beside him was unnaturally tight. He continued, "It makes sense, doesn't it? Dolohov couldn't take her outside of the wards because Dumbledore specifically enchanted them to make students stay in. When Dolohov tried everything he could to take her out, he had to change his plans. So he used his blade that was magicked with the Angorian Curse. It wasn't just him torturing you at all, Hermione. He was making you susceptible and sending you back to us probably with the plan to have McLaggen—maybe he didn't know that McLaggen was captured already—to compel you to leave the castle on purpose or something, where he would be waiting."

Harry's face was unusually pale as he straightened. "Well, Dolohov is captured, as is McLaggen. The Slytherins would be my next bet on who might be working for Dolohov, but the nastier ones are gone too, including Rowle, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Wilkes, and Urquehart. So hopefully with all of them cleaned out, the danger is past," Harry said, shrugging. "Maybe we don't need to do anything about it? Just make sure we stay with her at all times."

"That shouldn't be too hard," said Ron, agreeing. "But we should still tell someone."

"Okay…" Harry stood up and started pacing again. "We can't tell Dumbledore or Lupin, they are both gone. Jones obviously is...is...indisposed. Should we tell Pomfrey?"

"But what could she do about it?" Hermione asked. "Confine me to the hospital wing?"

"We could go to McGonagall," said Ron. "She could get the message to Dumbledore, and I definitely trust her."

They both nodded.

"McGonagall then," said Harry.

Their minds made up, the three of them left the classroom and went to find McGonagall. A quick glance at the Map showed she was in her office. When they got there, she was sitting at her desk, grading. It didn't take long for them to spill the news and demonstrate Hermione's forced compliance and Ron's theories about the Angorian Curse as well as Dolohov's cancelled plan for it. The appalled look on McGonagall's face said it all.

"Miss Granger, I want you to be extra cautious until we can get this figured out, do you understand? You do not have permission to leave the castle wards, and I forbid you from doing so, so that should take care of that. You may attend classes and meals, per usual, and you may attend the Halloween Ball tomorrow night, but that is it," said Professor McGonagall sternly. "Boys, be very careful with her. Make sure you stay with her and if anyone commands her to do anything, it is your job to tell her that she only needs to do what they said if she wants to. This must be done immediately before she is forced to comply."

They nodded, looking serious.

"And under no circumstances are you allowed to violate our agreement or take advantage of this curse, am I making myself clear?" she barked. "If I see one toe step out of line, I will confine her to the hospital wing and permit any visitors until we can sort this out."

"Yes, ma'am," they said in earnest.

"I will inform the Headmaster at once. You may leave," Professor McGonagall said.

Alarmed, the three of them stepped outside and sighed.

"This is going to be difficult," said Ron.

Eyes wide, the other two nodded.

They didn't know how difficult until they went to their next few classes. There were four separate times that Professor Flitwick, bless his heart, commanded the class to do something that Hermione was the first one to comply; two times that he told the class to answer a question and Hermione started rambling off facts right away without raising her hand; and thrice during dinner that other Gryffindors told Hermione specifically to do something (like passing something) that Ron and Harry couldn't stop her from doing in time.

By the time they were headed up to the common room, all three of them were exhausted.

"This is a nightmare," Ron said, collapsing on his favorite armchair. "I mean, I love you, Hermione, but being your bodyguard is exhausting."

She smiled sadly. "Thank you though. Both of you. For trying."

"You don't have to go to the Halloween Ball, by the way...if you don't want to...I know I told you that you had to go before I knew any better," said Ron ruefully.

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione stated wryly, "Now that I have your permission…"

"Does this mean we can't go to the twins' opening?" Harry spoke up.

All the breath left Ron's mouth. "Shite. I forgot about that."

"I don't mind if you two go without me," said Hermione, uncomfortably. They both protested, and she raised her voice. "No. I really don't want to spoil your fun. They are really counting on you two to be there, and I could really use more sleep anyway. It's not supposed to end till late, and if I'm not allowed to go, there's nothing that says you two can't."

"But surely you could come too," Ron said, his voice coming out in almost a whine. "I mean, there's no more danger, Dolohov's been captured, we caught everyone that might be working with him—"

"Except Greyback," she contradicted.

They shuddered.

"I don't want to risk it, Ron," Hermione insisted. "Professor McGonagall said no excursions outside of the wards. She forbade it, actually. So I really can't go, unless someone specifically makes me. But don't—" she cut off Ron from replying that he could very well tell her to go "—you dare tell me to go anyway. I don't want to risk it. I'm fine not going."

Dejected, Ron and Harry promised they wouldn't make her go.

Perhaps, thought Ron, things were not looking up after all...

Author's Note:

Well, I know this isn't "The Halloween Ball" but I actually found I couldn't squish it into this chapter (although I really did try). So sorry about that! But yay that I made room for the Gryffindor Tomb instead (although it really isn't as exciting as finding the Slytherin Tomb for obvious reasons...I mean, really, only Salazar and his ginormously big head could have fit into the Chamber of Secrets and send curses after All Those Who Enter).

The next chapter WILL have the Halloween Ball in it, just FYI. And never fear! We are nearing the end of this story. I have already said it will be 50 chapters, and I am sticking to my word.

Although...I did laugh at those of you who assumed the climax would only be a chapter long...I mean, seriously...that is SO not how I roll. You, my darlings, are going to be on one extremely bumpy ride. This chapter and the next are only the calm before the storm. Or perhaps...perhaps the climax has already started with the Quidditch Match, and we are only now in the eye of the hurricane? In any case, the climax is going to be at LEAST twelve chapters long, not counting the past few. I firmly believe that climaxes should be around 1/4 or 1/5 of the book.

Also! Did you notice that this chapter was only done in Ron's POV? Some people were asking for it! You're welcome.

So now it's time for you to tell me what you loved! What you didn't? Who you want to see next? Who you don't? What you are hoping to see in the climax? What you think the plan is for the climax?

Let me know!