The Price of Victory, chapter 6

"Well?" Ron asked again, coming up to the both of them. "What do you bloody think you're accomplishing by turning up here?" Harry noticed then that Ron seemed to be directing his question to Hermione more than to him, and his tone carried a note of resentment more than anything else.

Harry cast a sidelong glance at Hermione and saw her redden. "I've come here to talk to you, Ron," Harry replied. "Something very strange is going on, and we need your help to set things right."

"And what makes you think I'll help you?" He looked straight at Harry now. "Either of you? I sold you out, didn't I?"

"I don't believe that, Ron. You'd never do anything like that."

"And just what's happened to make you change your mind? Up until your latest disappearance, you were ready to believe the worst of me!"

"Ron, it's not the same Harry," Hermione interceded.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Of course it's the same Harry."

"No, Ron, it's not. I didn't believe it at first either, but if you'd let us explain…"

"There's nothing to explain. If this isn't the same Harry, then it's someone taking Polyjuice. What's the matter, Hermione, your brain addled from too much shagging? Obviously it's a plot to infiltrate the Minister for Magic."

CRACK!

Ron took a few staggering steps backward as Hermione's hand met sharply with his cheek. Harry could hardly blame her reaction, and he couldn't help but think of her mother. Apparently she had inherited something from that side of her family after all. Ron steadied himself as he rubbed the angry red spot that was rising on his face.

"Listen, Ron," Harry tried once more in a placating tone. "Just promise me one thing. You'll listen to my story, and if you don't believe me, you can send me off. This is too important to let go."

Ron looked undecided for a moment, but before he could reply, another voice was heard in the yard.

"Harry! I haven't seen you in, well…" It was Mrs Weasley, and she looked as if she'd seen a ghost. In a way she had, Harry supposed. "Why don't you come in, Harry dear? You too, Hermione," she added almost as an afterthought.

Ron was looking obstinately at his mother but didn't dare protest. She was returning his glare with an expression that brooked no defiance: the sabre-toothed tiger was not far from the surface at the moment. They all followed her into the kitchen in silence.

Harry was struck once more by the Weasley family's change in fortune as he entered the house. The kitchen was as spotless as ever, but it was all somehow less shabby. The place looked as if it had been freshly painted, and the cookbooks, which were normally stacked haphazardly on the mantelpiece, were nowhere in evidence. The battered table and chairs had been replaced. It all looked very nice but at the expense of some of its former character and warmth.

The table had been set for breakfast, and Mrs Weasley was adding two places. Harry's eyes were inevitably drawn to Ginny, who had risen from her seat in surprise when he and Hermione had come in. He couldn't help but think about the Ginny he'd left behind in his own world. She would never have gazed at him with such an odd mixture of curiosity and hostility. He wondered if the Weasley family he'd left behind were terribly worried about his whereabouts. He had no way of knowing if he were even missing from his world. Perhaps, and a strange thrill of terror coursed through him at the idea, he'd managed to switch places with the Harry from this world. Perhaps no one there would even knew things were not as they should be…

Harry gave himself a mental shake. Such thoughts were not going to get him anywhere. Right now he needed to concentrate his energies on getting the Weasleys--all of them--onto his side. He felt as if he'd never be able to right matters otherwise.

Mrs Weasley ushered Harry and Hermione into seats at the table and began serving them a copious breakfast. Ignoring the stony silence coming from her two youngest children, if indeed she noticed it at all, she asked, "What brings you two by so early today? I must admit…" She trailed off, and Harry imagined she was about to mention something unpleasant. The situation was very awkward, but Mrs Weasley was doing her best to be polite and not let the awkwardness show.

"We came to see Ron," Harry informed her.

"You did?" She couldn't keep the astonishment out of her tone now.

"Yes, we did. I think there's been a misunderstanding between us, and it's gone on long enough. I've come to try and set things straight."

The silence that met this pronouncement was deafening. But then Ron broke it. "There's been no misunderstanding," he grated bitterly. "None at all. You'll believe what you want to believe. You always have."

"Ron, just tell me what happened last year," Harry insisted. "There are things happening you don't know about. You need to listen to this. It's important. I need your help."

"Oh, so that's it, is it?" Ron spat at them. "You're only willing to listen because you need me for something. Otherwise you wouldn't give a shit would you?" Ron ignored his mother's outraged gasp at his language. "Well, I'm not the great prat you seem to think I am!"

At this, Ron got up from the table and left the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. His footsteps echoed through the house, only fading when he'd reached the fifth landing. His bedroom door closed with a dull thud.

Harry was acutely embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Mrs Weasley. I didn't mean to upset him like that, but I think this has gone on long enough. It's very important that he listen to what I have to say."

"I'm sure it is, dear, or you wouldn't have risked so much to come over here. How did you manage it without being seen?"

Harry was suddenly aware that Ginny was still at the table listening to everything they said. He could feel her brown gaze on him. "We came by broomstick. We've been flying most of the night."

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? If You-Know-Who had caught you again…"

"That's why we had to come as soon as we could. Before You-Know-Who could find out where Harry was." Mrs Weasley looked sharply at Hermione. "He's staying at my house until we get this sorted out," she admitted, looking down at her plate and colouring.

Harry watched Mrs Weasley's smile become decidedly fixed. "And I want to get this sorted out as soon as possible," Harry added quickly. "You have to believe me. I haven't come here to hurt Ron. I do need his help with this. If he'd only listen to me…"

"You're welcome to try, dear, but I can't be held responsible if he decides to flatten you." Harry rose from the table. Hermione seemed as if she wanted to follow, but Mrs Weasley stopped her. "I don't think it's a very good idea for you to go up there." Her tone was decidedly icy now that she was addressing Hermione. "There's something going on here. Why don't you tell me what it is?"

Hermione cast a panicked look in Harry's direction, but he could think of no reason why Mrs Weasley shouldn't be told the truth. He merely nodded at her, before turning towards the stairs to Ron's room. As he went, he heard Hermione begin in an uncertain voice, "This is going to sound, well, unbelievable. I didn't want to believe it myself at first, but…"

Harry rapidly climbed the stairs to the top of the house. Before Ron's closed door, he hesitated. Should he knock first or go right in? Opting for the latter, he quietly opened the door and slipped into the bedroom. Ron was sprawled out on his bed, idly picking at loose threads on the comforter. This room, at least, hadn't changed at all from the way Harry remembered it. He imagined that Ron loved his Chudley Cannons too much to redecorate.

Ron didn't look up, but he knew who was standing there. "Can't you take a hint? I don't want to talk to you."

"Then don't talk. Just listen for now. I have to tell you something, and you're not going to believe me, but all I ask is that you hear me out…" And then he launched into the story of how he came to be in this alternate reality. Ron had long since stopped picking at his bedspread when Harry had finished. Harry had the impression he'd been listening in spite of himself.

"What a load of bullocks!" said Ron, getting to his feet. "I know everyone thinks I'm stupid, but, bloody hell, Harry! You've made up better stories for your Divination homework!"

"Hermione believed it. I managed to convince her," Harry said reasonably.

"Well, what did you want to come all the way over here and tell me that for? I don't look stupid enough for you?"

Harry sighed. "Because I need to get back to where I belong, and to do that I need your help."

"Why would you trust me to give you any help? Do you know what I did to you last year?" The challenge in Ron's voice was unmistakable, but something in it rang false to Harry's ears.

"I know what Malfoy told me." Harry thought Ron's head came up just a bit at hearing him refer to Malfoy by his last name. "But I don't believe a word of it. I know that you would never betray me."

"What about your girlfriend? Did she back Malfoy up?"

"Hermione isn't my girlfriend, Ron, she's yours, as far as I'm concerned.

"Yeah, and some confidence she must have in me to tell think I sold my best friend out to You-Know-Who."

"Did you?"

"Ask around, everyone else will tell you the same thing."

"I'm asking you, Ron. Tell me what really happened last spring. I won't believe you betrayed me unless you can look me in the eye and tell me yourself. Go on, tell me."

Ron looked Harry straight in the eye and opened his mouth. For one wild moment, Harry was sure Ron would tell him it was all true. But then Ron closed his mouth again. He couldn't do it, Harry realised, and elation burst through him. Ron sat down on his bed again and stared at the floor.

"You'll know about Hermione and me, I reckon."

"Yes, I asked her about it. She said you told her you loved her."

"I always have." Harry had to strain his ears to hear Ron speak. He sounded deflated. "I told her, but she was already with you…"

"Not with me," Harry interrupted.

"All right not with you but with the other Harry."

"Even that much isn't true, according to Hermione. She told me everyone thought we were a couple before we ever were. And we got definitely together after you'd talked to her."

"That's what she told me, too, but I didn't believe her. And then when she pushed me away, I reckoned it was proof that she liked you and not me. Damn Dumbledore and his ideas, anyway!"

"What do you mean?"

"He had the bright idea to break up the houses. Thought it would make for better relations with everyone. Said it might stop some of the Slytherins from going over to the enemy. But it broke us up, the three of us, that is. I was pushed aside for Malfoy. And since the three of us weren't in as much contact as before, well, you and Hermione remained together, and everyone naturally assumed… I was jealous, I admit that. I couldn't stand to see the two of you together, so I took to going off on my own. I had this place I went to outside the Hogwarts grounds. The enemy must have found out about it, because five of them jumped me one day…"

Ron stopped here and buried his face in his hands. Harry thought he shuddered slightly. Ron took his face out of his hands and continued, staring out the window. "I didn't mean to do it, Harry. They didn't get anything out of me for a long time, but it hurt so much. They didn't use Cruciatus, because they wanted information, and they needed me sane to give it, but they know other ways to hurt you, and they're not afraid to use them. And then they started getting tricky on me. Asking me all sorts of things that didn't seem to have to do with anything. But in the end I told them what they wanted to know. I must have, although by then I wasn't even sure what it was they wanted, because they let me go. And that was probably the worst thing they could have done. Because they left me to live with what I'd done."

"No, Ron. It doesn't matter. No one could have held out forever."

"But I told them, and they took you. Because of information I gave them."

"They didn't keep me long," Harry pointed out. "I got away."

"They should never have taken you at all. It's my fault that happened!"

"I don't think that, Ron." Harry was beginning to realise that Ron had spent the past year eaten away by guilt over this, acting much in the same way that Sirius had when he'd blamed himself for the deaths of Harry's parents. Had Ron been allowing himself to take the blame on purpose? It would have been like a punishment to let everyone think he was capable of betraying his best friend, and Harry suddenly felt very awkward. "Listen, Ron, let's just forget about it. I'm here to defeat Voldemort and find a way to put things back as they ought to be. If I can do that, you'll be with Hermione. But I need your help. We've always been a team."

"Yes, but what do you need me for? You've got the cleverest witch ever to set foot in Hogwarts on your side."

Harry thought of the journey to the Burrow he'd just taken, and he thought of the time during fourth year when he and Ron had had a falling out. Without him things just weren't the same, but Harry wasn't sure how to express this. "Ron, just trust me, we need you, too."

Ron met Harry's gaze then and nodded once. "What do you want me to do?"

"Dunno yet. I've no idea how to go about setting things right."

"What does Hermione have to say about it?"

"She doesn't know, either. You know, it's odd. In the other world, I used a spell to defeat Voldemort. I tried to show it to Hermione, but we couldn't find the book anywhere."

"Maybe it's a sign. Maybe you're not meant to defeat You-Know-Who that way here."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Sign? Don't tell me you've started taking all that Divination rubbish seriously." Ron's smile was a bit forced, but Harry tried to look on it as a step in the right direction. "You know, Hermione said almost the same thing, leaving out the bit about signs, of course."

"Hermione… Harry, what am I going to say to her? I've been an absolute git around her. Not just today. Ever since last year."

"Sorry, mate, I'm afraid I can't help you there, but you're going to have to face her sometime."

Ron sighed. "Yeah, I know. Be nice if I could just stay up here all day though."

"She wouldn't let you, and you know it. She'd come up after you."

"She didn't come after me all year, Harry." He sounded resigned.

"When she learns the truth, she'll come around. I'd tell her, but I think it would be best if you did."

Ron knew Harry was right; his expression said so. After a few more moments, he got up from his bed and without another word left the room, leaving Harry to follow.

When Harry came back to the kitchen, silence reigned. Hermione had obviously finished telling Mrs Weasley and Ginny his story, and the two Weasley women turned to stare at him, as if they could detect some outward sign that he wasn't the Harry they'd always known. Ron and Hermione, who seemed to be deliberately avoiding meeting each other's eyes, stared at him, as well, and Harry felt the heat rising in his cheeks.

Mrs Weasley was the first to break out of her trance-like state. She shook herself slightly and coloured, as if she'd only just realised how impolite she'd been. "Well," she said, "this house isn't going to put itself in order." She rose from the table and with a wave of her wand sent the breakfast dishes flying towards the sink. Harry watched as Ron turned a bit shyly towards Hermione and said something to her quietly. He must have asked her for a private word, since she rose mutely from the table and followed him outside. Harry was soon left alone with Ginny, when Mrs Weasley strode briskly the kitchen to attend to chores elsewhere in the Burrow.

Harry hadn't moved from the spot he'd been standing in ever since he'd entered the kitchen. He felt very self-conscious standing there in view of the frosty way she'd been treating him. But she surprised him by getting out of her seat at the table and approaching him.

"Hermione told us what happened," she said. "Is it true?"

"Yes, it's true."

"And where you come from…" She hesitated and looked at the floor. "You and Hermione aren't…"

"No!" Harry shouted, and the sound echoed in the empty kitchen. Then it struck him that Hermione would have been talking their relationship, or rather lack of one, in front of Mrs Weasley. That didn't seem to make sense. "Wait, did Hermione tell you that?"

He saw her swallow. "No, she didn't. You did."

He hadn't discussed this with her, ever. "I did? When?"

She craned her neck to see behind him, apparently looking to see if her mother was within earshot. "In the dormitory. When I was there with Draco," she said in a low voice. Harry thought for a moment, and he must have looked confused, for she added, "You asked him what he was doing with your girlfriend."

Now Harry remembered the scene. "Oh, yeah. Right."

"So is it true?"

"Well, yes, where I come from, you're my girlfriend." And I love you, he added silently. God, he missed her. As he stared down at her, her expression seemed to soften. For a moment he could see traces of the Ginny he knew, and it made him long for her even more. Time seemed to stop while they stared into each other's eyes, and then he could stand it no longer. He leaned in and kissed her.

For thirty seconds she responded, and it was wonderful. She tasted as sweet as he remembered, and he reached for her to pull her fully against him. It was a mistake. Ginny pushed him away. She was breathing a bit harder than usual, and her eyes were bemused but quickly coming back into focus. It was as if she'd forgotten whom she was with for an instant, but had had a sudden, rude awakening. She drew back a hand and slapped him.

"Don't you ever, ever do that again!" And she pushed past him and stormed up the stairs, leaving Harry to rub a stinging cheek.

Harry stood frozen for a moment, stunned. Then anger flashed through him, white and hot. He kicked the doorframe. It wasn't fair! He'd gone out, alone, and faced Voldemort. There was a reasonable chance that Voldemort had been defeated in the encounter. He kicked the doorframe once more. Harry had seen enough Muggle movies on the Dursleys' telly to know the hero was supposed to ride off into the sunset with his girl. And what sort of reward did Harry get? He was sent to a bloody (kick!) stupid (kick!) world were everything was backwards (kick!), where he was separated from one of his best friends (kick!), where that friend had gone through hell (kick!), where his other friend was going through another sort of hell with her mother (kick!), and he had to go out and defeat Voldemort all over again!

"What's the matter, Harry?"

Mrs Weasley standing behind him, no doubt attracted by all noise he'd been making by taking his feelings out on her mouldings. He looked sheepishly at the black marks his shoes had made on the white paint. Mrs Weasley, however, didn't seem annoyed about the damage he'd caused. She looked genuinely concerned.

"It's not fair," he said simply, and felt his eyes burn. "It's just not fair."

"What isn't fair?"

"Everything…" His voice cracked, and he couldn't go on. He felt himself enveloped in a motherly hug, such as he'd rarely experienced in his life. Unlike the time she'd comforted him after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he let himself go. His tears were born of frustration and anger more than anything else. After a while he felt as if the burden had been lifted the slightest bit, and it struck him how much he'd grown since the last time she'd done this.

"Thank you," he said, pulling back and rather unsure what to do next.

"Hermione told us what you did. That can't have been easy. And to think it isn't even over yet…"

Harry nodded once. It was as if she'd read his mind. He looked at his watch and saw that the morning was further advanced than he'd thought. There were still plans to be made, but Ron and Hermione were still outside. He'd half-expected to hear their voices raised in argument by now, but everything was quiet. But time was becoming an issue. They'd have to decide what their next move should be, and soon, because as it stood now, he and Hermione would never make it back to Hemel Hempstead before Hermione's mother became suspicious.

"I suppose I should see where Ron and Hermione have gone," he said. "Hermione and I will have to head off soon."

"Oh, no, dear, you can't do that. Not in daylight. It's much too dangerous."

"Hermione's mother doesn't know where we are." Harry felt himself redden at this admission. Mrs Weasley pursed her lips. "She'll be worried."

"You'll have to send her word, then. You can use Ron's owl. I can't let you leave."

"Why not? We can manage something so the Muggles don't see us."

"That's not the problem. Arthur had word this morning. He had to go into the Ministry early. He didn't have details, but something happened last night, something to do with You-Know-Who. Until we know what it is, you're much safer here."

Harry opened his mouth, ready to protest, but he wasn't given the chance. Ron and Hermione came back in then, and they looked as if some sort of understanding had been reached. "We're ready, Harry," Hermione said. "Whatever we have to do to help you, we'll do it." Mrs Weasley muttered something about finishing her housework and left the room.

"But I don't even know where to begin."

"You used a spell before, didn't you?" asked Ron. Harry nodded. "And you remember how you did it, don't you?"

"Of course I do. But we don't know if it will work. We looked for the book Hermione found it in and it wasn't in the library."

"You told Dumbledore about it, didn't you?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, I did. When I woke up in the hospital wing, he asked me about it."

"And what did he say?"

"Nothing much. He seemed more interested in working out what had happened to me. He didn't dwell on the spell at all." Harry wracked his brains, trying to remember if Dumbledore had had any sort of reaction to the name of the spell. He couldn't recall anything peculiar. "It's odd, that, now that I think about it. I wish we could have found that spell book."

"But if it doesn't exist…"

"I'm not so sure it doesn't. From what I've seen, everything exists in this world that did where I'm from. It's just not quite as it should be. Think about it. If the spell didn't exist here, Dumbledore would have said something, wouldn't he? But he didn't bat an eyelash when I told him. We should have looked harder for that book."

"If it's not in Hogwarts library then where is it?"

"It could be at the Ministry," put in Ron. "They've got a library with every spell book ever written. But if you remember how to do the spell, Harry, why do you need the book?"

"I don't know. I just have a feeling I'll need it. Perhaps the spell exists under a slightly different form here. I don't know. But we have to start somewhere."

"We need to decide what we're going to do, and soon," said Hermione. "Harry and I have to get back home soon."

Harry shook his head. "Mrs Weasley told me something's going on with Voldemort and we'd have to stay here. We're going to have to borrow Pig, Ron. We need to let Hermione's mum know where we are."

Hermione looked unhappy with the situation, and she looked as if she were going to protest this turn of events. Before she could say anything, however, Mr Weasley and Percy appeared suddenly in the kitchen, both of them looking quite dishevelled and out of breath. If either of them was surprised to see Harry or Hermione there, they made no comment. Mr Weasley turned immediately to Ron and asked, "Where are your mother and Ginny? There's been an attack. A bad one."

A/N: A huge thanks to Amy for her beta help. She's done a great job making me feel secure in my psychology.