Ron and Hermione didn't wait for their clothes to dry before beginning the long walk back to Hogwarts. Ron was bursting with joy. He could barely believe that they had found this lost treasure; who were they, after all? He wouldn't have been so surprised about it if Harry had been with them; things had a way of turning out right when Harry was around. That things had turned out so well for just Ron and Hermione was still a source of shock for him.
They were back at Bertram's house when the sun set. Hermione returned the book, and showed him the Stone, which was around her neck. He was as shocked and proud as Ron could have hoped. They stayed the night again, and set out for Hogwarts the next morning, Hermione practically falling over herself to thank him for his help.
They hiked through the woods, setting a faster pace than they had during their walk to the castle. Ron was imagining their happy reception at Hogwarts when Hermione interrupted. "I suppose that takes care of your dreams? The one with me was Lady Clarissa in the mirror, and the one with you was when we came out of the lake."
"I suppose it does," he said. He hadn't thought much about his dreams in the last week. He frowned. "The first one still doesn't make much sense, though. A silver dragon breathing red fire at Harry."
Hermione puzzled over that for a few moments, and then said, eyes wide, "Ron—scarletfire."
He nodded. "But if the fire is poison, then what's the dragon?"
"Maybe—maybe whoever poisoned him!"
They trudged along, deep in thought. A silver dragon. What's a silver dragon? After a time, Ron gave up. A silver dragon, that wasn't much of a clue. They would probably never know who had tried to kill Harry. A silver dragon. Dragons always made him think of the Hogwarts motto. He smiled. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus. Never tickle a sleeping dragon. Good advice, that…wait a moment…
Ron stopped. Several bits of information came together and crashed upon him in a wave of certainty. His lip curled. "Malfoy," he hissed.
Hermione stopped. "What?" She shook her head. "I know he doesn't like Harry, Ron, but I don't think he'd actually—"
"Oh, it's him alright," Ron said in a grim voice. "Think about it. Draco: Dragon. He's got a father who's a Death Eater and seems more than happy to follow in his footsteps. And what Dobby was trying to tell me…I bet he sneaked down to the kitchens and put the poison where Harry would eat it—and I bet Dobby saw him. He even looks silver, with his hair and his eyes…I'm going to kill him," he added in a deadly whisper.
"Ron," Hermione said, jogging alongside him as he strided implacably in the direction of Hogwarts, "don't get carried away. If it was him, then they'll have him put away. He'll get what he deserves. Don't send yourself to Azkaban, Ron, I couldn't stand it." She seemed genuinely worried that he would carry out his threat. Ron didn't know if he would or not.
§§§
A few days cooled Ron's hatred to a smolder. They were very close to Hogwarts now, for Ron's wand was picking up the Location Spell he had put on the tree. "Now let's hope that Hogwarts doesn't move around," Hermione said.
"What?!" Ron said wildly.
"To make it harder to find," she clarified. "I don't think it does, though. I've never read it anywhere." I hope not, Ron thought fervently.
Fortunately, when they came to the tree, they could see Hogwarts in the distance. "Race you!" Ron yelled to Hermione, and took off, she at his heels.
They raced past the hencoop, past the greenhouse, past the cabbage patches, everything that they had sneaked by under the Invisibility Cloak almost two weeks ago. They crashed through the front door and, as they had planned, made straight for Professor McGonagall's classroom. She was the most likely to believe them.
They opened the door and stood puffing in the room, not hearing the hissing whispers of third years saying, "It's them." "Professor—" Ron started—and then stopped at the look in her eyes. They were full of cold fury. "You two!" Before Ron or Hermione could say another word, she walked over, took a firm hold of each of their ears, and marched them straight down the hall towards the headmaster's office. All the while she was going on furiously. "I don't know where you two have been, but I don't suppose you gave one single thought to the grief you've put everyone through. Your parents have almost worried themselves to death—" Ron looked down guiltily "—everyone has. Harry poisoned, and you two disappearing—it's terrified the whole school. Your classmates have been crying their eyes out, and whole departments of the Ministry of Magic have been looking for you. And then you two come waltzing in, casual as you please; well, I won't have it! You're going straight to Dumbledore and I'll be quite shocked if you aren't expelled; yes, Miss Granger, even you!"
Ron suspected it would have gone on longer if they hadn't reached the Headmaster's office. She gave the password to the gargoyle and, fingers still clamped on their ears, dragged them up the staircase. She pushed them through the door and entered herself, arms crossed and still looking mad enough to spit nails.
Professor Dumbledore looked up, and regarded them with surprise in red-rimmed blue eyes. He had been working at a table covered with simmering potions and pages of old notes. He did not look angry, but very, very serious. "Where have you been?" he asked quietly.
Hermione didn't answer in words. Instead, she reached down her shirt, pulled the Sorcerer's Stone over her head, and dangled it by its gold chain in front of the Professor. She smiled like a satisfied cat.
Ron wished that Colin Creevy had been there to capture with his camera the completely stunned looks on Dumbledore's and McGonagall's faces. As he wasn't, Ron tried to burn the images into his brain, next to "Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."
"I assume," said Dumbledore in a choked voice, "that that is the lost Sorcerer's Stone of the Damodreds?" Hermione nodded. Dumbledore blinked and snagged it from her hand. "I'll have Harry's antidote made in a few minutes. Why don't you go down and see him now?" So, leaving their shocked teachers, Ron and Hermione hurried down the stairs and over to the hospital wing, to see the friend whose malady caused them to undertake their journey.
§§§
Harry was definitely looking worse than the last time Ron had seen him. Clad only in boxer shorts (causing Hermione's cheeks to color), he was slick with sweat and his face was an unhealthy purple. Flowers and candy surrounded him, and his parents' photo album was propped up on the table, Harry's parents continually smiling and blowing kisses at him. "Harry?" Hermione said hesitantly. She didn't kiss him, for which Ron was exceedingly grateful.
Harry's head rolled toward them and looked at them with dull eyes. Hermione knelt down by the bed. "We've found a Sorcerer's Stone, Harry, and we've given it to Dumbledore and he's going to be here any minute to give you the antidote! You're going to be all right!" Harry hardly looked as if he cared. Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes.
"Did I hear that right?" a new voice came from the doorway.
"Sirius!" Ron exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Isn't that obvious? My godson was dying." He looked at Harry sadly. "I ask again: did you just say that you've found a Sorcerer's Stone?"
"Yes, yes, we did."
"How?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged a long glance. "That's a long story," Ron said finally. Just then, Dumbledore walked in, carrying a flask with a clear liquid inside. He knelt down on the other side of Harry's bed and carefully tipped it into his mouth. Harry swallowed convulsively, and a slow shiver spread through his body. The flask was drained, and Harry sat up, touching his face. Then he saw Hermione and quickly threw a blanket over his middle. "Hermione!" he gasped. "Go away!"
Hermione looked taken aback. "Well, you're welcome, Harry!" she said, surprised and a little hurt. "Next time I'll just let you die!" She grinned at the confused look on his face. Ron grinned too. It was just like old times.
Dumbledore interrupted. "I suppose that you both want to get cleaned up first—" Ron winced "—and then come back here, for I'm sure that you have an interesting story to tell."
§§§
Ron and Hermione walked down a corridor together. It was strange to be back at Hogwarts, Ron thought. All of the straight lines and order that they had done without for the past two weeks. Ron was grinning at the familiar sight of Sir Cadogan and his horse when another familiar, less welcome sight came into his view. Ron's expression instantly changed to one of hate.
Draco Malfoy was standing in the middle of the corridor, radiating arrogance from his silver-haired head to his black leather boots. "Ah," he said, "the Mudblood and the Weasel are back. Where were you? Begging for knuts in Hogsmeade? Making out in the Forbidden Forest?"
"You did it," Ron said quietly, dangerously. "You poisoned Harry."
For just a short second, Draco's composure was broken. Then he relaxed and crossed his arms. "So what if I did," he drawled lazily. "You can't prove anything."
Ron saw red. He fumbled for his wand, but before he could curse Draco to kingdom come, Hermione grabbed it out of his hand. "Stupefy!" she yelled. Draco slumped to the floor, and Hermione hesitated for a moment before dashing over to him and giving him a good solid kick. Ron's jaw dropped. Hermione continued to kick madly, hitting his knees, his chest, his face. Then she took a fistful of his long hair and slammed his head down of the stone floor. Ron stared. "Hermione! No!" He gripped her upper arm and pulled her away—and she collapsed against his chest, shaking with sobs. Ron held her tightly, tight with the anger he still felt towards Malfoy. Hermione cried for a while, and he tried to comfort her. "It's all right, Hermione, nothing he didn't deserve…" although privately he was still shocked by her actions. She pulled away with a terrible expression on her face. "Ron," she said, still occasionally choking on sobs, "Ron, how could anyone be so cruel?"
Ron tried to look sympathetic, and Hermione gave a half smile. "I just had to get that smug look off his face," she said fiercely, "and then…then he was down on the ground, and he couldn't stop me if I wanted to do anything." She turned around and observed her handiwork. Draco's bruises were beginning to show, and his nose was quite probably broken. "I was so angry…what am I going to do when they find him?"
"I'll take care of him," Ron said. "You go back to the dorm. I'll be there in a bit." He picked up his wand and whispered, "Cheerio." Hermione suddenly brightened. She walked down the hall with a bounce in her step.
Ron watched her until she turned a corner. Then he turned and regarded the limp body of the boy who had nearly succeeded in killing Harry. Ron's lip curled in a snarl, and he pulled his foot back and delivered a mighty, well-aimed kick to the groin before following Hermione down the corridor.
§§§
After a shower and a change of clothes, Hermione and Ron had gone back to Harry, Dumbledore, and Sirius in the infirmary, and the whole story had come out. Ron's dreams. Their preparation and journey. The help of Bertram and Mira. Ron added his own suspicions about Draco (who was fortunately not conscious yet), and Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and Sirius had gone down to the kitchens to have a talk with Dobby. With much coaxing, they gathered that Draco's "See No Evil, Hear No Evil" charm had missed Dobby, and that he had seen the boy empty a vial into Harry's glass. At that point, Hermione thought it was a good time to mention the mauling she had given Draco. Dumbledore had been remarkably understanding, and only given her a week's worth of detentions. Sirius had winked slyly at her behind his back.
Dumbledore wasn't quite sure what to do with the Damodreds' Sorcerer's Stone. Hermione had given Ron a good telling off for asking him for it, although she couldn't think of anyone who deserved it more. The Headmaster now wore it around his neck; as Harry often said, the safest place for anything was wherever Dumbledore happened to be.
Dobby's reluctant testimony was the at center of a long trial which ended with Lucius Malfoy put in Azkaban and Draco sent to St. Mungo's Juvenile Rehabilitation Wing. Hermione doubted it would help. The boy was made of ice, and she didn't think there was anything warmer underneath.
Ron and Hermione sat with Harry between them on a rock over the lake on the grounds. Harry's strength had come back slowly, and today was the first day he'd been allowed outside. Their feet were bare and Ron's toes were dragging through the water. Harry cleared his throat
"I don't think I've thanked you properly for saving my life," he said awkwardly.
"Forget it, Harry, you'd have done the same for us," Ron said.
"I hope so," Harry replied. They watched the lake for a moment, and then Harry hesitantly put an arm around each of his friends. They each put an arm around him, Ron briefly gripping Hermione's elbow. They exchanged a smile over Harry's head. The three friends watched the sunset and reveled in the quiet pleasure of being alive, together.
§§§
The End. And now let's have a big hand for Ron and Hermione, who saved Harry's life and ruthlessly creamed Draco!
Note: Thanks to my reviewers, the coolest people in the world: HGW, 1960 DeSoto, Sara, LiLi, ronluver (Never mind), Mladybug3 (I would love a mirror like that, and a door. I laughed so hard at your kissing comment! Sorry about no kissing in this story…hmm, maybe if I did a sequel…J ), Fantasy Girl, Princess Lily (no, I didn't…really? Well, it makes sense, we've had H/Hr/R, H/R, H/Hr, and just Harry, so that's pretty much all that's left), Ally (no, this is the end J), unicorn, Emily, Fiona McLain (although I'm not sure about you; you didn't say anything. However, it's the thought that counts), and stardust (All hail Ron).
Note: Are my bonus questions just too hard? The book that inspired me to name my story after a poison was Silverthorn by Raymond Feist. Awesome book, by the way; best of the series, I think.