Disclaimer: You know the drill—the puppet's belong to someone much more intelligent & skilled than me. The strings are a product of my insanity.

A/N: Hey you guys. I'm *so* sorry I took so long to publish the next installment. I hit a kind of rut & wasn't sure where to go with it. I'm working on several chapters that I want to interject in the beginning mostly dealing with Harry and his secret and what drives him to do what he does, so look out for those when I do post it, K? Thanks for all of your reviews and suggestions and I'd still really like to hear what you think so *please* R/R! The end is near!

*~* The Feather *~*

       The morning light seeped through the open window, invading the room and leaving Ron with a strong resentment for the sun. He tightened his eyes, determined not to wake up for a hundred years. He pulled his arms tighter around the figure that lay beside him and tried to nuzzle his face in her shoulder. It was then that he realized his arms encircle not the woman who owned his heart, but a very cold and fluffy pillow.

       "Mione," he said groggily. His voice was dry and constricted and it ended up sounding more like "Mine." There was no answer. He groaned.

       I knew it was too good to be true. Stupid dream.

       He heard the door to the bathroom opened and opened his eyes just enough to peek out to see Hermione—blonde hair and all—fully dressed for the day. He let his mind wonder over the images that filled his mind. He felt a presence at his feet and looked down to find Hermione climbing into bed with him.

       It wasn't a dream?

       She pulled the pillow out of his arms and slipped herself into its place caressing his hairline with her fingers.

       "You know," she said quietly. "You're going to have to charm your hair back to brown before we can go downstairs."

       He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "Does that mean if I refuse to do it then we'll just stay up here," he gave her a gentle squeeze "all day?"

       A shadow came over her face but was quickly replaced with a smile. "Come on you. Tia is probably waiting for us."

       "Tia? Tia who?"

       "Ron, come on. We've got to find the cave today."

       "I know," the disappointment was evident in his tone. "I just wanted to pretend for a little while that we're just two wild kids spending a weekend alone and breaking all the rule."

       "You do know that that's what we're doing, right?"

       "Yeah, but it's just not the same," he said pouting like a five year old.

       She kissed his forehead and helped him get up, which was no easy feat since every time he sat upright he would tug on her arm and bring him back down with him. Finally he reluctantly got up and went into the bathroom to charm his hair and Hermione took two carrying packs down to the Inn's kitchen to get some supplies.

       Tia and Hermione were talking in a conspiratorial manner when Ron descended the stairs of the Inn.

       "Hey you two," he said when he got there. Then, when he got close enough he lowered his voice. "What were you guys talking about?"

       "Well," Hermione said so quietly he had to lean in towards her. "Tia was just telling me that she saw Vladimir Keatin stealing cookies from Mrs. Naidenova!"

       "Oh," Ron said a little confused. Tia and Hermione began giggling hysterically and he shifted uneasily. "Um, shouldn't we start off then?"

       "Yay," Tia giggled and grabbed Ron's hand and led him out of the Inn towards the mountain.

**

A/N: Right…um, ok so you can all see the problem with my story now. It's Winter, they're in the mountains, yet there's no worry about climbing up the mountain in the snow…why? Because I'm lazy & I don't want to deal with snowstorms and the cold. I'm just going to pretend it's not too cold & I hope you guys go along with it k? ;) Thanks. 

       "Did you know that the Roman god Jupiter was really a wizard?" Tia said cheerily as they hiked through the rough landscape. They had been climbing in relative silence for nearly an hour up the rugged mountainside. Ron noticed that there was no hint of fatigue in her youthful voice. "Parvaneh said he always loved to show off. He was an animagus, you know. He tried to save the Roman empire by turning into an eagle and finding her cave."

       Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. "Did you say eagle?"

       "Uh huh."

       "What happened to him?"

       "I don't know," she shrugged. "She never told me. Oh look!" With that, Tia ran towards a bush on the side of the mountain. Ron was very surprised to see that anything was alive this far up the mountain, and indeed it did seem to be the only living creature besides the three of them. Everything around the bush was abysmally dry and dead, and yet the small fruits were glistening and ripe.

       "How can that be," he wondered aloud.

       "How can what be?" Hermione studied his expression, trying to hide how cute she found him behind a cloak of curiosity.

       "Well, the blueberries," he said pointing at the bush. "It's December and they're ripe. How can that be?"

       "You know," she said squeezing his hand, "you can be quite brilliant when you're paying attention."

       Ron had the urge to give her a kiss but suddenly got the feeling that they were being watched.

       "Euck!" A tiny voice jolted him back. They sprang apart and Hermione walked over to the bush. "This bush is special," Tia said.

       "Really?" Hermione was now kneeling in front of the tree and touching its leaves as if testing if it was indeed really there.

       "Yes. See that rock?" Tia turned around and pointed to a rock to the right of the direction they had been walking. "That's the cave, but it looks like a rock because it's hidden."

       "Thank you," Ron said walking up to Tia and then kneeling down in front of her. She threw her arms around him, much to his surprise, and hugged him.

       "Tia," Hermione said when they finally disengaged. "I want you to go back to the Inn all right? Here's a little money. We'll meet you there."

       "Maybe," Tia replied flippantly. "Can I buy anything I want?"

       "Yes, of course you can. Whatever you can afford with it."

       Without another word, the little girl turned and walked back down the mountain half-skipping and singing.

       "There's something off about that little girl," Ron muttered as he watched her go, "but I'm not sure it's all bad. You ready?"

       Hermione nodded and closed her eyes. Ron followed suit. He tried to concentrate with all his might on his transformation but having Hermione beside him made it difficult. If you don't concentrate, you'll end up walking into a hospital with a big tail and whiskers! He shook his head and tried again. He pictured himself as a cat, imagined his hair turning into thick fur, whiskers sprouting up from his nose, his mouth and jaw extending forward and his ears shooting up. He heard Hermione utter the spell, and decided now was as good a time as any. "Mutacio," he whispered, and with a buzzing sound in his ears the sensations of the transformation washed over him. Once again he felt the stinging as his red hair began to fluff and spread all over him. Covered in red fur, whiskers started to sprout from his now scrunched and wet nose. His face began expanding forward creating the muzzle and he felt himself bending towards the floor. All four paws on the ground, he blinked. He opened his mind to say something but heard only a soft "Meow" escape his mouth.

       "Squawk," Hermione seemed to agree. He looked at the rock Tia had shown them and gasped. It wasn't a rock at all! It was a massive cave with dark wall upon which a red light akin to fire danced and shimmered. With a look to Hermione, he walked towards it. Hermione took flight and hovered above him protectively, ready to snatch him up if need be. He took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into the cave, and noticed, to his surprise, that he didn't feel any different. Walking into the Cave of Virtue felt no different than walking into any other cave, or room, or building for that matter. They went down a rather long tunnel for what seemed like hours. At long last they reached a cliff. Ron inched towards the edge of the cliff and peered out. Bellow him was indeed a massive moat of molten lava, bubbling and gurgling. He suddenly realized that it was unbearably hot under his fur and for a fleeting moment he worried that Hermione's feathers might melt off. In his musing he didn't notice Hermione lowering herself above him, and he was startled when he felt surprising gentle talons close around the pouch of skin on the back of his neck. It was a strange feeling—he was being carried the way a mamma carries her kittens and he realized it somehow left him almost paralyzed, making it very difficult to move if he needed to escape. Wow, leaves me kinda vulnerable, doesn't it? He looked down as they crossed the enormous rift. A bubble of lava burst below him sending sparks of lava up at him. He jerked his leg up narrowly missing the deadly liquid. He wanted to scream for Hermione to fly higher but the only sound he made was a rather excited hiss. Hermione, getting the point, flapped her elegant wings more quickly, and they rose several feet. Ron breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the other end of the rift. The soft pads at the bottom of his paws relished the feeling of solid land beneath them and he began scratching the ground for some inexplicable reason. Suddenly, he heard laughter behind him. He turned to find Hermione—not eagle Hermione, human Hermione—standing behind him and watching him with a twinkle in her eyes. She crouched down and began petting him behind the ears and he couldn't help purring.

       "Come on," she said. "You can turn back."

       Ron stood up and walked a few feet away from her and closed his large cat-eyes. He concentrated on his red hair, numerous freckles and tall, lanky frame. Mutacio, he though. He felt his entire body lengthen and the hair recede all the way up to his head. When the transformation was complete, he opened his eyes and looked at Hermione.

       "I don't understand," he said.

       "Me either. I thought I'd give it a try, and it worked. I thought our magic wasn't any good in here…but then something I read came back to me. It had said 'enchanted objects' and I assumed that to mean anything magical, including us, but now I wonder. I think it meant inanimate objects that were enchanted with magic, like brooms and such…but even a Simurgh couldn't strip us of our magic. It's a part of us. It would be like robbing a muggle of his legs or something. Am I making any sense?"

       "Yes…er, no, but it doesn't really matter. Let's find the feather and get out of here. This place makes me nervous."

       "Right," she nodded and turned towards a large cavern. The walls were lined with gold and at the center of the table sat a single feather. A cursory glance around the room showed there were no statues bearing weapons, no walls, nothing whatsoever barring them from the feather.

       "Hoot!"

       "What was that?" Ron spun around to find a large, black owl flying towards them. "What in bloody hell is that doing here!?!?"

       "Ron! Don't swear!"

       "Hermione, we're in a mythical cave, searching for a miraculous feather and we're being followed by a huge black owl and you're worried about my choice of words?"

       "Hoot!" The owl landed in front of them and before Hermione could say a word it began to change. It's wings shrunk down to its sides and its legs and torso spread out.

       "It's an Animagus," Ron cried, jumping protectively in front of Hermione. He held his wand out to it, and watched as it's black feathers bunched at the top of its head and began to thicken into strands of stubborn hair. Its beak receded to reveal a face very familiar to the couple.

       "Harry!" They both cried at the same time.

       "Hi guys," he said pushing up his glasses and walking quickly towards the cavern.

       "What is going on?" Ron demanded.

       "I can't explain, you've got to hurry. There's very little time!"

       "What are you talking about?"

       "I told you I haven't time to explain it just yet!"

       "Well that's not good enough, Harry!" Ron crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his friend as though he'd been betrayed.

       "Ron, I'm sorry. I—I had to do it. I had no other choice!"

       "Balderdash! You could have told us the truth!"

       "No, Ron, you don't understand. No one could know I was here."

       "Harry Potter, you had better start explaining," Hermione broke in furious.

       "I told you! I—"

       Suddenly a scream broke out. The looked at each other and turned back to the cliff. There, on the edge, hanging on with her tiny little fingers was Tia.

       "Tia!" Ron cried!

       "Ron! Look," Hermione screamed. Ron turned and saw that suddenly the walls of the threshold into the cavern holding the feather were closing in quickly. "It's closing Ron!"

       Tia screamed again, and the three of them hesitated no longer. They ran towards the little girl. Hermione transformed as she ran, her wings expanding beside her. Ron and Harry ran and grabbed Tia's hands and Hermione closed her large talons around her collar and lifted her up. Once she was safe, Hermione transformed back and looked back at the cavern. The doors were closed forever. She felt her eyes sting as a tear formed in her eye. They had lost their only hope for saving Voldemort. She looked back and saw Tia, sitting very still as if in shock. It was worth it, she thought looking at the little girl. Suddenly, Tia's head snapped up and looked at her. Hermione had never realized how piercing her eyes were before—it was almost as though they could see right through her: right through to her very core. She turned the piercing gaze at Ron, and then to Harry, letting it rest on him for a while. Then, still silent, she stood up and closed her eyes. Hermione nearly fell over as she realized that Tia was transforming. Her neck expanded and a beak shot out from her face. Four massive wings sprung from her back, and she took on the body of a horse. Scales began to cover her body, starting with her hooves and working their way all the way up to her long elegant neck.

       "Simurgh," Hermione cried.

       Yes, Hermione felt, rather than heard the response. Harry and Ron looked up at her, apparently feeling the same thing.

       "But, but I thought you…" Ron stammered.

        Yes, I know.

       "You were testing us, weren't you," Hermione seemed to be thinking aloud, but she didn't stop. "When you came to us in the form of a small girl, telling us about the cave and the Sim—uh, yourself. You were testing us?"

       Yes. Your kind seems to take the knowledge of your young very lightly. Few have I seen who heeded the fantastic stories of a little girl. Wisdom can come from the most unlikely of sources, but it seems most of your kind cannot accept it from one who is 'inferior'.

       The three stared at her in silent disbelief. This was the strangest this they had ever encountered. They had never expected to find the Simurgh without ever touching her feather, much less to have her find them. She turned her majestic head towards Ron.

       You showed me the kindness of a brother, though you did not know me.

       Ron blushed and looked down. She turned to Hermione.

       You believed my words without question, against the warning of the townsfolk. It would have been more logical to follow their warnings and yet you believed a child who spoke the truth over an adult who spoke from fear and distrust.

       Then she turned to Harry who looked at her in wonder.

       You risked your secrecy, exposed yourself to me in my time of need. You could have been killed.

       Ron and Hermione looked at Harry in confusion, but it was nothing to the bewilderment with which he looked at her.

       "How did you know that?"

       I know a great deal. I know of the two who hunt you, and I know of the risk you took in helping me. Only a man of virtue would have done what you did.

       She then turned her head so her piercing gaze could roam over all three faces.

       But that was not enough. You had to prove that you were willing to give up what you wanted most—that for which you have come so far—to save a life.

       She motioned with her head towards the Cavern and the three looked behind them to find that the threshold was once again open, and the feather laying on the table at the center once again.

       "H—how? Why?" Ron was flabbergasted.

       You had to make a choice. The feather, or the girl. Of course, if you had chosen the feather you would have been locked inside the vault until your death. But, if you chose the girl, then you would have been free to take that which you came for.

       "You—you mean,"

       The feather is yours to take, but know this. If I can help you when you call upon me, I will, but I cannot rid your world of evil. No creature of this earth can. Though one may be defeated, hatred and ignorance will live on. No amount of fighting will remedy that. Blood shed will only fuel it further. Hatred is healed, not defeated.

       Before any of them could speak, she flapped her four enormous wings and rose above them.

       Use the feather wisely! She called as she flew out of the cave.

       Ron and Hermione turned to Harry with looks asking a thousand questions.

       "We haven't time for that," he said briskly and walked into the cavern with Ron and Hermione close behind. He slowed as he approached the feather and turned his head from side to side, as if expecting another test or obstacle. Finding none, he reached out a tentative hand and let his fingers touch the tip of the feather. He shuttered.

       "Are you ok," Hermione asked quietly.

       "Yes," he replied. "It—it's strange. It felt as though all my energy were returned to me, or something. Here," he picked the feather up and held it out to her.

       She reached out and touched it with a few fingers. She too shuttered and lifted the feather and held it out to Ron. Raising an eyebrow quizzically, he reached for the feather. As soon as his fingers came in contact with it he felt a rush of warmth shoot up his arm. It traveled up into his chest, where it spread all over his body. He felt as though he had just woken up from the most restful sleep he'd ever had. He took the feather in his hand and looked at it. It glimmered in the light from the lava. It looked as though it had been made out of a metal more precious than gold, and yet it was softer than any feather he had ever touched.

       "It's amazing. It's so…beautiful." He handed it back to Harry, who put it in his mouth as he began to transform.

       "Let's go," he said just before the transformation was complete. "Hurry!"

       Ron and Hermione shrugged and transformed. Hermione grabbed Ron by the same pouch of skin and lifted him off the ground. Flying was much quicker, even than a cat, and the three were out of the cave quickly. What Ron saw when they were out of the cave shocked him. The town bellow was completely draped in darkness. Everywhere around him was daylight, but it looked as though someone had hung invisible curtains around the small wizarding town at the food of the mountain. Large clouds circled it and occasional lightning struck out. What on earth is going on??

       Hermione didn't pause in her flight or set Ron down. Seeing the darkness she realized that whatever was going on was something urgent, and suddenly understood Harry's impatience. She beat her wings as hard as she could, willing herself to soar faster than before. Harry, too, quickened his speed although he was still quite a ways ahead of him. Crossing over into the town was like walking from one world into another; everything was dark. No sunlight could penetrate the invisible barrier. Suddenly, Ron realized he could hear screams. He looked down to find people running around. They all seemed to be running away from the same direction. At the other end of the town he could make out two figures, one slightly smaller than the other, standing on a platform. The larger figure had his wand outstretched and flashes of green light shot out in all different directions from it. He hissed involuntarily at the sight.

       Harry began to lower himself down behind a roof, and Hermione followed suit. She put Ron down beside Harry and landed beside Ron, lowering her head. Harry's owl body became deformed and Ron realized he was transfiguring back into his human state. Ron and Hermione followed suit.

       "Voldemort," Harry said when all three were once again humans. Ron winced at the sound of the name and looked at Harry.

       "What do we do?"

       "We've got to burn the feather. We can't face him now that he's risen again."

       "Can't we just use the killing curse on him from here? He'll never know what hit him!"

       "Ron," Hermione said, suddenly annoyed. "He's immortal, remember? We can't just Avada Kedavra him. He'll loose his body but his spirit—" she shuttered "—will live on. Harry's right, we've got to burn the feather."

       Suddenly Harry let out a yelp and his face became strangely screwed up. He was trembling slightly, as though he were in great pain. Ron looked up and saw He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named facing them, pointing his wand at their rooftop.

       "Harry!" Ron cried.

       "Wormtail!" Voldemorts cruel high-pitched voice rang out loudly.

       "Crucio!" The voice was different. Weaker, less confident, but no less cruel.

       Suddenly Ron jolted and nearly fell off the roof. He began trembling in the same way that Harry had. He vaguely heard Hermione's voice scream out "No," but it seemed far away. He felt as though every inch of his body had been covered in acidic Veela blood and was now bubbling over in boils. On top of that, it felt as though each of his bones were being crushed one by one. He wanted the pain to stop. He would give anything for it to stop. He prayed for death, begging silently for it to rescue him from the agony. And then…it suddenly stopped.

       "Expelliramus!" Hermione had disarmed Wormtail and Ron collapsed in her arms.

       Voldemort released Harry from his Cruciatus Curse and turned his wand to Hermione. "Accio girl!"

       Ron tried desperately to hold onto Hermione and she was lifted and pulled rather quickly towards the platform.  

       "NO!"

       When Hermione reached Voldemort he grabbed her by the arm and threw her on the ground. Then he stood towering over her with his wand pointed at her. "What do you think, Wormtail," he said loudly. "Shall I kill her now and be done with it quickly, or let her suffer first?"

       Thinking fast, Ron cried out "Don't hurt her!"

       Voldemort smiled and turned back to Hermoine. "Crucio," he said in a high, clear voice.

       This was what Ron had wanted. He would never wish for her to undergo the agony of the Cruciatus Curse, but he couldn't let Voldemort kill her. He had to buy time. "Harry," he said turning towards his very pale friend. "Quick, the feather!"

       Harry pointed his wand to the feather he held in his hand. "Incen--"

       Before he could finish his spell the feather flew out of his hand and down towards Voldemort who had left Hermione doubled over on the ground.

       "Noooo!!!!!!" Ron and Harry's voices cried out together.

       Once Voldemort grabbed the feather he uttered a spell and Harry and Ron were lifted up above the roof. They were paralyzed by an unseen force and drifted to the platform where Hermione lay. With a flick of the wrist the force was removed and they fell ten feet to the ground.

       "Ahhhhhhhhh!" Ron's voice was full of agony. He had fallen onto his hands and rolled to the right, twisting his wrist into most unnatural position. "Arrgggg! Why does this stuff always happen to me?"

       He rolled in pain for a moment until he heard laughter break coming from behind him. He turned to see Voldemort standing over them with an expression of glee on his face.

       "Did that hurt," he asked in mock sympathy. "Shall I show you what real pain is?"

       Ron shuttered at the thought revisiting the sensation of the bubbling boils.

       "No," he heard Harry cry. His voice was constricted and he coughed. Ron turned to see him cradling his ribs with one arm and supporting himself with the other.

       "No," Voldemort said. "No? What will you do if I do? Will you kill me? Your wand sits beside you. Go on boy! Take it."

       Harry lurched for his wand but met Wormtail's foot as he kicked it out of his reach.

       "What's the matter? Can't reach?" Voldemort raised his wand to Harry with a look of contentment on his face.

       "Expelliramus!" Ron had managed to crawl to his wand while everyone was occupied with Harry and, holding it with his good hand, shot the wand out of Voldemort's hands. "Accio wand!"

       He caught the wand in his hand, then tossed it to Harry. With Harry at the advantage, Ron was free to turn back to the unconscious Hermione. He scooped her up in his arms gingerly, half afraid to hurt her half afraid to further injure his wrist.

       "Hermione," he muttered into her ear. "Come on Hermione, get up! Oh God Hermione, please, get up!" He stroked her hair out of her face to reveal blood trickling down from her forehead.

       "Wormtail!" During all of this, Voldemort had turned his attention to Pettigrew, who had turned his back and begun inching away from the scene. "Give me your wand!"

       Wormtail scurried back to his master and handed him the wand. "M-master, what will you do?"

       Fury ignited in Voldemort's eyes. "What concern is it to you?" Wormtail recoiled to the ground, cowered by his master's glare. When he was satisfied that no further interruptions would come from his mutinous servant, Voldemort turned his attention to Harry. He held the wand up and uttered a curse. Before Harry had time to respond with the wand in his hand, he was lifted off of the ground once more. He jerked and trembled in pain until he finally let go of the wand. Wormtail crawled to where the wand lay, picked it up and offered it to his master in penitence.

       Suddenly, Harry dropped out of the sky once more onto the platform. Voldemort turned his attention to Wormtail. "Crucio," he said flatly. He then pried his wand from the trembling fingers and flicked his wrist. Wormtail stopped trembling and balled up on the floor crying.

       "No more games, Harry Potter," Voldemort said turning to Harry who was also a pile of trembles on the ground. "Avada Kedavra!"

       "No, master! No!" Wortmail's voice rang out and Harry felt a heavy load on top of him.

       "No!!!" Ron turned from Hermione to where Harry lay and what he saw was enough to shock his senses. Wormtail was laying on top of Harry, utterly still.

       "Enough!" Voldemort looked utterly incensed. He took up the feather and held it high so that Ron and Harry could see. "Incendio!"

       The feather ignited instantly burning a metallic color with sparks of silver flying everywhere. High above them, the clouds began to disperse. The thunder and lightning stopped and sunlight began to seep in from all angles.

       "What is this magic," Voldemort cried turning to Harry. Then came the sound of flapping wings, a rhythmic, musical beat that was almost enchanting. Ron wondered why he hadn't noticed it in the cave when the Simurgh flew away. He closed his eyes and let the beat wash over him. He felt at peace, and noticed that the stinging in his wrist had dulled considerably. Harry, too, had noticed the soothing affects of the wings. He crawled out from underneath Wormtail's still body and looked up at the Simurgh, heart suddenly full of hope. The gentle wing-beat had an altogether different affect on Voldemort. He threw his hands up to his ears and began screaming. Harry had never seen Voldemort in pain before. Every time he had seen him he was cruel and angry, never desperate and panicked like now. He never thought it possible. Suddenly Voldemort turned to Harry.

       "You," he cried. "You!" He raised his wand yet another time to Harry and uttered the killing curse. In a blaze of feathers and scales the Simurgh was in front of Harry, blocking Voldemort's curse. The green flash was simply absorbed by her scales without any affect. Voldemort repeated the curse again and again, determined to destroy the monster that had stood between him and his goal.   Suddenly the Simurgh turned to Harry and then to Ron. Cover your ears, she told them. Harry threw his hands over his ears and Ron turned to Hermione and uttered a silence spell. He turned his wand to himself and did the same. Suddenly everything went quiet. Voldemort raised his wand to the Simurgh and his mouth opened. Ron could tell from his face that he was shouting something, but heard nothing. Suddenly the Simurgh threw her head back and opened her massive beak for the first time since they had met her. The ground beneath him began to shake and he saw Voldemort shake and fall to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw Harry trembling. He turned to Harry and lifted his wand. He opened his mouth to utter the silence spell but heard nothing. It must have worked though, because suddenly Harry looked up and nodded to him in thanks. The shaking stopped and the Simurgh turned to them.

       This one is hurt, she said, motioning to Hermione. Ron opened her mouth to tell her something but couldn't hear his words. He remembered the silence and turned his wand on himself and uttered the counter-spell. He did the same to Hermione, and then to Harry.

       "She won't wake up," Ron said finally turning to the Simurgh. She walked over to them and lowered a wing.

       Take a feather from my wing. Break it in half and rub part of it on your wrist; it will heal you. Rub the other half on her wound and enclose it in her hand. She will heal, though it may take a moment. She then turned to Harry who had come and stood beside her. Is this the one against whom you seek my help, she asked referring to the unconscious Voldemort.

       "Yes."

       You will come with me, then. She turned to Ron. You will take your companion home. You have no need to remain in this place.

       "But, what about Harry," Ron asked.

       He will return when his task is complete.

       Ron nodded and watched as she lowered herself and allowed Harry to climb on top of her. She took Voldemort into her mouth and with a pump of her wings they were off the ground. She raised them higher and higher, every beat of the wings bringing Harry's eyelids closer and closer together. The rhythmic beat soon lulled him to sleep.

       Ron could now finally turn his attention back to Hermione. For a moment he allowed himself to stare at her. Giving into impulse, he caressed the soft skin of her cheek. He shuttered when he felt how cold it was, and it snapped him back to reality: she was hurt, and he needed to do something, quickly. He broke the feather in half and hastily rubbed part of it onto his wrist. He felt a tingling sensation and heard a crack as his bones realigned themselves. To his surprised he felt very little pain; in fact, there was a warmth emanating from his hand that was quite comforting. Taking the other half of the feather he traced the cut from her forehead all the way across her skull. Voldemort had nearly killed her, and Ron could feel the anger welling up inside him. Suddenly her hands twitched and she turned her face from side to side, as though she were having a horrible nightmare.

       "It's ok," Ron whispered to her as he closed her fingers around the feather. "I'm here, it's ok."

       Her movements increased intensity and her face screwed up in pain as the feather brought her back to consciousness. Suddenly her eyes flew open and turned to him.

       "Ron," she cried as she threw her arms around his neck. "You're ok!"

       "Of course I'm ok," he said gently. "What happened? Are you all right? Do you feel pain? What did that monster do to you?" He said the last part quickly and held her at arms length to take a look at her.

       She laughed as tears streamed down her face and threw her arms around him again. "You're ok," she was sobbing now. "You're ok."