Chapter Two
When August 15th finally rolled around, Hermione was ready. She had been counting the days until then, and had made she made all the necessary arrangements. She would get a ride to London from her father, and she could wander around Diagon Alley until five o'clock, at which point she could go to the Leaky Cauldron and meet Ron.
Hermione and her father left for London around three o'clock in the afternoon. She had all her money for school supplies, and she was bouncing with excitement. When she mentioned Ron, her father cast her a suspicious glance and told her to be careful, but said nothing more. She kissed his cheek and danced along the sidewalk to the Leaky Cauldron. It was just as she remembered it, warm, friendly, and hopping with witches and wizards. She was greeted by Tom the bartender, whom she had met before, and she sat down to get the news.
"Seems the Ministry decided we were stronger when we were together, so they allowed us to meet, though under top security, mind," Tom told her as he prepared someone's drink. "Headmaster Dumbledore said he wanted his students at the school, where he could keep an eye on them. Security was down when You-Know-Who managed to get in." He shuddered and made a cross on his chest. "May God rest the souls that paid that night."
Hermione swallowed hard. Of course, people had died that night. She remembered gasping when she read in the Daily Prophet that over thirty students had been killed in the attack. It was awful. With a death toll like that, how could Ron have lived?
He had, of course, but Hermione had had a hard few weeks waiting for word from him. Finally, she bid Tom goodbye and stepped out into Diagon Alley for the first time in two years.
It was just the same as she remembered it. Everything from the book selection at Flourish and Blotts' to the robes at Madame Malkin's was familiar. Just being there, back with people she knew and places she recalled, was enough to fill her with optimism. If there was any place where she could find her friends, it was here. When she looked down at her watch again, it was four-thirty. Hermione's breath caught. Just half an hour. In half an hour, she would see Ron again. She gathered up her purchases and began on the way back to the pub. She walked painstakingly slowly, trying to use up the minutes until five o'clock. Entering the Leaky Cauldron again, she found an empty table for two, and sat down.
Ron must have been running late, because it was over fifteen minutes before anyone new walked through the door. When he did come in, Hermione almost didn't recognize him. It wasn't until some called out, "Hey, Weasley, long time, no see!" that she turned and saw him. And she almost dropped the book she was reading.
He had changed, all right. Once long and lanky, Ron had grown to suit his frame, so now he appeared tall and fit. His hair, once bright orange, had darkened to a beautiful auburn, and his eyes had picked up a green tint that she could see even from her seat across the room. He would have appeared roguishly hansom, in his jeans, tee shirt and light jacket, if you ignored the tormented look that was deep in his eyes.
He was hunched over; his collar pulled up around his face. His eyes had dark circles under them, and they carried the weight of lost sleep. He was paler than usual. Fatigue and disorientation hung over him like a heavy cloak. But it was still Ron, and that was what mattered. Hermione finally found her voice and jumped to her feet. "Ron!"
Ron looked up sharply, as if he expected an attack. He searched the room for whoever had called him. When his eyes fell on Hermione, who was walking quickly towards him, avoiding tables and dancing around chairs, they widened in recognition and then wonder. It was a look she had gotten to know well from the local boys, and it made her heart sing to see it from Ron. She was about two feet away from him when he choked out, "Hermione!" and pulled her into a fierce hug so tight she thought her ribs would crack.
She could have stayed that way forever, with her arms around Ron's neck, her face pressed against the cotton of his tee shirt, feeling one of his hands around her waist, the other on the back of her head, pulling her closer, his face against her hair. She knew he was crying, and she was, too. All the same, she could feel that something was still bothering Ron. Worried, Hermione let him go.
He gripped her shoulders and held her away from him. She hurriedly wiped away her tears and stared at him, so happy to be near him again that it hurt. A slow smile started across his face, spreading until it became the full-blown Ron grin that she loved. She grinned back up at him, and realized that he was still about fourteen inches taller that her.
"You wouldn't believe how much I missed you," Ron whispered hoarsely, hugging her again. "When I didn't hear from you… I was so worried…" He ran his fingers through her hair, holding her tightly.
"You were worried?" Hermione laughed. "How about me? The last I saw of you, was you crumpling with a horrible burn on your head…" She pulled away and ran a finger along the burn scar above his left ear. "And then you didn't write me for four weeks!"
Ron squeezed her and let her go. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. They didn't let me out of the hospital until a week before I wrote you, and Mum nearly strapped me into my bed to keep me from straining myself." He ran a thumb under her eye, making her shiver pleasantly.
"Ron, guess what?" Hermione cried, suddenly remembering. "We can go back to school! Hogwarts is opening again! Isn't it marvelous? Everything will be just like it used to be!" She thrilled at her worlds.
For some reason, Ron's face fell. He let go of her completely, stepped away and fell heavily into a chair. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said. "Hermione…" He looked pleadingly up at her. "It's not going to be the same as always." Hermione frowned and sat down across from him.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "I know the security will be tighter, so it'll be harder for you and Harry to break the rules." She grinned. "But the discipline will do you good!" Ron's frown just deepened. "It doesn't upset you that much, does it?"
Ron closed his eyes and massaged his temples, as if trying to rid himself of a headache. He opened his eyes and stared at Hermione. "Harry- Harry's gone missing, Hermione," he whispered. "Even his aunt and uncle reported it. Scared the Hell out of them, they came home to find him gone and the Dark Mark burned on their front door." His lips curled into a tiny smile. "Mind you, the only reported it because they thought Harry had trashed their house-" Ron choked, and whispered so quietly that Hermione had to lean in to hear him. "The Dark Mark, Hermione. You know what that means. Oh my God, what are the chances of him being alive…?"
Harry? Missing? Hermione's mind was reeling. Ron said something else, but she didn't hear him. The Dark Mark. That meant that Voldemort had either taken Harry or killed him. And if he had taken Harry, he would either try to turn him to darkness, or kill him later. And she knew he would rather die than serve his parents' killer.
"When?" she finally gasped. "When did it happen?"
Ron closed his eyes. "Three weeks ago, exactly." He reached over and took her hand. "Ginny," he whispered. "They took Ginny, too, two days before." He screwed his eyes shut. "What are they going to do to them, Hermione?" He let go of her hand and put his head in his arms. "Why did they have to take Ginny? What did she ever do?"
Hermione realized he was crying again. But what could she do? She was in total and complete shock. She gripped the side of her chair, trying to break out of the shell around her. She closed her eyes as random thoughts ran around inside her head, slamming into each other and creating general confusion. Quiet! She ordered herself, but it had no effect.
A hand on her shoulder finally jolted her back to reality. Ron had gotten up and was standing behind her, her bags in his hands. Silently, Hermione let him put an arm around her and lead her out of the pub. They walked silently, and came to a halt on a bench behind a few buildings. Hermione shook her head and bring herself to concentrate on the matter at hand.
"I guess it's dumb that I still get like this about it," Ron said quietly. He still had his arm around her. "I've had three weeks to stew about it, after all." He turned and looked off into the distance. "You wouldn't believe how weird things are at my place, Hermione. We never do everything by ourselves. We can't even eat supper together anymore, cause looking at Ginny's empty chair is too hard." Ron tightened his arm around her shoulders, but said no more. She leaned against him, still silent.
It was funny. When she was younger, she cried at the tiniest things, like when Ron and Harry were quarreling in their fourth year, stuff like that. But it seemed that anything big like this would cause her to freeze up, make the blood drain from her face, make the words catch in her throat. It numbed her.
Ron finally looked down at her again. "Are you OK?" he asked gently. "You're awful quiet." Hermione just shook her head and said nothing. Ron frowned. He turned so he was facing her and brushed a few stray hairs away from her face. "I'm sure they're fine, Herms."
She finally broke the shell, and jumped to her feet, furious. "Like hell, they are!" she shouted at him. "Not five minutes ago you were draped over a table telling me they were as good as dead! Now you go preaching the exact opposite!" She collapsed to her knees, sobbing. "Don't lie to me, Ron…"
He pulled her to her feet and held her as she cried into his shoulder. The anger was ebbing out of her body, leaving a distinctly empty feeling. She leant gratefully against him, and waited for the tears to stop coming.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered finally, pulling away. "I didn't mean it." She wiped her eyes with a sleeve and fell heaily onto the bench. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
Ron sat down beside her again. "Nothing's wrong with you," he told her gently. "I told you something bad. It's expected of someone to lose it when they get told something like that." He put a hand on her shoulder and smiled wryly. "God knows I did, more than once. Frankly, I was wondering what was taking you so long."
Hermione would have loved to have laughed, but she couldn't. Instead she asked tentatively, "Do you think they're really OK?"
Ron chewed his lip and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. "I don't know what I think," he told her truthfully. "I don't see how Harry could have evaded You-Know-Who four times without so much as a scratch, and then just get hauled off when security was tightest. It seems to have been too easy for You-Know-Who to take him. You know Harry, and you know he was always careful with stuff like that. You-Know-Who had to have had help finding him." He lifted her chin and made her look at him. "Still, if there is one person who could get out of there alive, it has to be Harry," he whispered. "He's got a better chance than anyone. To tell the truth, it's more Ginny I'm worried about. If they're together she should be fine, but if they got separated…" He let go of her and stood up, leaning against the back of the bench. "I don't think he's out to kill them, Herms. He didn't kill them when he took them, because there were no bodies, and if he had tried to turn them we would have heard something by now. If he were going to kill them, he would have done it already. I think he's using them for something. As bait. I just wish I knew why."
Hermione stared at her friend. Either he'd spent an awful lot of time thinking about it, or he had gotten smarter since she'd seen him last.
"We should probably get going," Ron said quietly. "I have to catch a Portkey out of here in five minutes. He offered Hermione a hand and pulled her gently out of her seat. "I'm real sorry I didn't write you. I'll try and do better until school starts, OK?"
Hermione swallowed and looked up at him. "I'll see you on the first," she whispered.
He smiled and hugged her. "Better believe you will. I'll look for you at King's Cross, alright? And you'd better be there!" He squeezed her and let her go, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
She grabbed Ron's hand. "Hey," she said. "Stay out of trouble, will you?"
Something of a shadow crossed Ron's face, as if he resented her comment. But it was gone as suddenly as it had come, and he grinned at her. "You don't see me for almost two years and now you're worried about two weeks?" He squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you." He walked back down the alley. After a quick glance at her watch, Hermione decided to start back to the pub.
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