Chapter Five
After so many months of having to imagine teachers and demonstrations in front of her while reading a book, it was wonderful for Hermione to be back in classes again. Ron laughed at her, of course, as she danced happily from class to class, savoring the feeling of books weighing down her shoulders once more. There were a lot of things she understood about Ron, but his lack of enthusiasm towards schoolwork wasn't one of them.
Professor Dumbledore, it seemed, was taking no chances with his students' safety. He had taken up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts personally, and was teaching some very interesting classes.
It seemed that a year and a half of having to mingle with Muggles had taken their toll on wizarding culture. Hermione noticed a lot of Muggle clothing being worn under the uniform robes, Muggle novels being read, even Muggle electrical equipment being tampered with in spare time. Several fourth-year students were trying to develop a Discman that would run on magic instead of electricity. While they hadn't been very successful, it was interesting to watch them fiddle with it in the Gryffindor common room.
Much to Hermione's disappointment, Ron remained simply friendly to her. Forward as he might have been on the train, he pretty much left her alone at school, almost avoiding her. He spent his time with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, and Hermione was left to find company in Lavender Brown and the Patil twins, all of whom annoyed her. She finally gave up and just spent her time doing homework and extra credit.
She was coming back from a late night in the library, working on a paper for Arithmancy. Glaring at the irrepressible Mrs. Norris as she stared up at her from her lamp-like eyes. Dancing out of the way as Peeves streaked down the hallway throwing things. She walked up to the portrait hole and muttered the password ("sow's ear") and climbed through into the common room.
Since it was late (around eleven o'clock), Hermione didn't really expect anyone to still be up and around. But, as she made her way to her favourite chair by the fire, she noticed someone sitting in the bay window, the moonlight glinting off his red hair. "Ron?"
He turned slowly, not surprised to see her coming back so late, and watched her for a moment. She fidgeted under his gaze, uncomfortable, and pulled the hem of her shirt, which had wedged itself up under her books, back down past her navel. "What are you still doing up?" she asked.
"I'm allowed to be awake," he said dully. "It's Saturday." His eyes were flat and emotionless, the usual spark of green gone from their depths, and they followed Hermione as she sat down in her chair.
She shifter her books onto her lap as she sat, looking at Ron with concern. He was watching her the way Professor Moody used to watch Harry; a creepy way. "Are you OK?" she asked cautiously.
Ron's face instantly lost the emotionless look, and he turned away. But not before Hermione could see the pained look that had crossed it. Without speaking, he pulled a crumpled envelope out of his bookbag and tossed it to her. Frowning, she unfolded the letter and read.
Mr. Weasley,
We understand your concern for your friend, but we fear that sending out a search party at this time would not be safe. Even while our community is allowed to fraternize, to go wandering about looking for trouble would not be wise. Please be assured that the instant we feel it is safe, we will go looking for Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley.
Yours in fellowship,
Wolfgang Boozier
Head of Magical Law Enforcement
"What do they mean?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted. "They're not going after them?"
Ron stared moodily at the table for a moment before answering. "No," he snapped finally. "They say it's not safe. And as if leaving Harry and Ginny in the clutches of You-Know-Who is?" He pounded the table with a fist. "Assholes! If it weren't for Harry, we wouldn't have been safe all those thirteen years before, either! And they won't even take one f***ing risk to save him!"
"Ron!" Hermione had never liked swearing, and tonight was no exception. "I'm sure they have a good reason!"
Ron's head shot up and he glared at her, his eyes snapping with fury. "There is no good reason! Don't you care?" he demanded. "Don't you care at all if something happens to Harry? Or Ginny? My God, he's your best f***ing friend! The least you can do is hope someone helps him!"
"Ron, calm down!" she cried desperately. He had been yelling. "You'll wake everybody up!"
"Calm down? Calm down?! You expect me to be calm?"
"Ron, they'll look, OK? It's just too dangerous right now!"
He stopped very suddenly and shook her by the shoulders, causing her to see stars. "What's the matter with you, Hermione? Good Lord, first it was Harry's broom, then it was Scabbers and Crookshanks, and now this!" He stared intensely at her and she could feel his anger. And, at the same time, his desperation. "You really don't care, do you?" he whispered. "You really don't give damn. You have changed." He shook his head and walked up the stairs to the boys' dorm, leaving behind a very stunned Hermione.
'
Black, everywhere. Look left- black. Look right- black. Up, down- black. There were no sounds, no smells, no tastes, nothing. She knew she was dreaming, for some reason, though not what about. Aside from the general knowledge that she was asleep, was one pressing thought. Find Harry. Find Ginny. Find them! Find them! The blackness was closing in, like a thick, velvet blanket. She couldn't breath…
"Yah!" Hermione opened her eyes and flipped over, feeling the covers twist around her body. Her face had been pressed into her pillow, thus cutting off her air. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, chest heaving, trying to catch her breath, then attempted to wriggle out of the cocoon of bedclothes she had created. Something about the dream jumped out at her. It was the same feeling she got from the dream about the dance. Such dreams lacked the unreal feeling of a normal nightmare, as if she were really there. And something told her it had something to do with Harry.
"I'm going crazy," she muttered to herself. "I'm going absolutely, positively out of my skull." She walked to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face, then stared at her reflection in the mirror. Was Ron right? Had she changed that much?
But I'm worried about Harry! she told herself. And I don't want anything to happen to him! But I understand the Ministry's point of view, too. She gripped the edge of the sink as tears began to well up in her eyes, and she squeezed them shut. Oh, why did he have to say what he did? With a sigh, she wiped her face off with a towel and walked back to her room and fell into her bed. Let it be better in the morning.
'