Author's Notes: I checked, and when I first wrote this chapter, it was during the Olympics and I threatened people to go down to Salt Lake City and cheer on the Canadian Olympic Hockey team because if they didn't win I was going to boycott and stop writing.
They won. ^_^
***
In an orange and black whirlwind, Halloween excitement was taking hold of the school. In the wizarding world and especially at Hogwarts, the holiday was much more than an excuse to get candy from strangers. The entire spirit of Halloween was centered around witches and wizards, warlocks and ghouls, vampires and hags - all fictional characters in the Muggle world, but very real creatures in the wizarding world.
Paul White and Roger Ramone were up to something, as usual. The teachers deduced that they were gathering food from the kitchens for some crazy, after-curfew Gryffindor Halloween party, but the teachers didn't have any solid evidence to prove the theory yet. White and Ramone had done a brilliant job of hiding the evidence - not a single crumb of a missing cake was found in their dorm, and nearly three dozen assorted pastries had disappeared without a trace.
With Halloween also came a trip to Hogsmeade. It had been a few days since the staff room argument, and Hermione had only seen Ron once since the infamous row. By chance, they had met in the hallway. Ron had given her a wordless glare, then spun around and stalked off down the corridor in the opposite direction in a huff. Now it seemed that he was the one avoiding her, Hermione thought wryly as she stood next to Professor McGonagall in the crowded Hogsmeade main street. Students ran this way and that, Halloween treats from the sweet shop clutched greedily in their fists.
"Keep your eye on Ramone. He's up to something," McGonagall said with a steely glare, keenly watching Roger slip and slide down the icy street. He met his partner in crime, Paul, and the two began talking in hushed voices.
"Professor Granger, Professor McGonagall!" a cheery voice behind the two figures hollered. Hermione whirled around in surprise. There stood Ron, a lopsided grin plastered on his face. The tips of his ears were beginning to turn pink from the cool, crisp October air, and in his hands he held three steaming mugs of Butterbeer.
"Hello, Professor Weasley," McGonagall replied courteously. "Are you supervising today as well?"
Hermione, meanwhile, was completely taken aback by Ron's sudden friendly attitude. She him a strained smile for Professor McGonagall's sake as he handed a Butterbeer to both the women.
"Why, thank you, Mr. - " McGonagall quickly corrected herself, " - Professor Weasley."
"There's no need for formalities, Minerva," Ron replied with a cheeky grin. "Just Ron's fine."
McGonagall responded with a tight-lipped smile, which obviously indicated that she didn't want Ron calling her "Minerva" any more than she wanted Slytherin to win the Quidditch cup.
"How about we get out of this cold and into the Three Broomsticks?" Ron suggested.
"No thank you, Professor. I really need to keep an eye on the students out here," McGonagall replied, stealthily eyeing Roger Ramone.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking to his old friend with a bright smile.
Extremely puzzled by Ron's sudden change of disposition, Hermione reluctantly accepted. This was partly because she was freezing, and partly because she was curious as to what caused his mood to change so drastically since that cold meeting of theirs in the corridor. Nodding with a smile to Professor McGonagall, Hermione followed Ron into the Three Broomsticks.
"All right, out with it," Hermione said bluntly as they sat down at a table. "What's with the sudden change of heart?"
"I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about," Ron replied innocently, fixing a puzzled look on his face. It didn't last, however, because it abruptly broke into a grin.
"Well?" Hermione said impatiently.
"I decided that fighting with you never solved any problems in the past, so it sure as hell won't solve any now," Ron explained in a sophisticated manner. Hermione couldn't help thinking that it didn't suit him. "So I propose a truce."
"And what are the terms of this tentative truce?" Hermione demanded suspiciously.
"I won't bother you and Charles," Ron tried to keep a straight face, "or complain any more about you changing and whatnot."
"And…?"
"And you have to promise never to call me and/or Harry…" Ron paused, screwing up his face and doing an annoyingly perfect impression of Hermione, "…'accident-prone, trouble-making, danger-seeking idiots' again."
Hermione stared down at her Butterbeer. She had two choices - she could accept Ron's truce and just learn to work beside him (it didn't mean they had to be best of friends), or once again refuse to have anything to do with him. She glanced up at Ron's eager, boyish face and felt a strange pull at her heartstrings. She quickly dismissed it as the Butterbeer, although a nagging voice in the back of her head reminded her that the stuff wasn't very strong.
"Fine," Hermione stated. She then paused. "…And I didn't totally mean the part about you two being danger-seeking idiots. Some of it you didn't go looking for."
Ron beamed. "Great! So…friends?"
But before Hermione could answer, a blessing in disguise - Roger Ramone - came barreling into the Three Broomsticks. He rather ungracefully bumped into Hermione's chair and nearly knocked her over. Hermione yelped, jolting forward and losing her grip on her Butterbeer. She watched, wincing, as it spilled all over the table. Ron, surprisingly agile and quick, leaped out of his seat as the warm liquid spilled over the table and dripped onto his now empty chair.
"Ack! Sorry, Professor!" Roger apologized excitedly, absently trying to straighten the chair with Hermione still in it. Paul White appeared in the doorway and doubled over laughing at the sight. Roger forgot the chair, grabbed at Paul's coat, and dragged him into the pub. They sat at the table adjacent to Hermione and Ron's and began chattering away in hushed voices.
Hermione stared at the mess at their table, turning a lovely shade of red as she quickly swooped down and tried to mop up the mess at their table with some napkins. Madam Rosmerta hurried over to help.
Hermione gestured uselessly, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Rosmerta, it just slipped…" She was sure to glare at Roger over her shoulder when she said this, however.
"No need to worry, honey!" Rosmerta replied cheerfully, a smile on her rosy face. "Come on, you two can sit right over here…" She brought them over to a new table and waited for them to sit down before promptly bringing over two new Butterbeers.
"On the house," she said warmly, setting the steaming mugs down. Hermione didn't touch hers; instead she just sat there, seething.
"Really, those two," she said through clenched teeth. "Trouble makers, the both of them. I wouldn't be surprised if they have to repeat this year. They're such brilliant boys, really…if they only applied half the intelligence they waste on plotting stupid schemes to their school work - "
"No, I am not seeing things!" Roger yelled loudly, pounding his fist on the table for effect. Many heads swiveled to stare at him. Roger smiled sheepishly.
"Reminds me of Fred, that one does," Ron said, sniffling. He seemed rather unruffled by the entire ordeal, despite the fact that he'd just nearly ended up with a lap full of Butterbeer. "Oh, the memories…"
"Oh, the memories indeed," Hermione scoffed. "I can't hear myself think with these two in here. I'm going outside," she announced, rising from the table. Much to Hermione's chagrin, Ron hurriedly stood up as well and followed her out of the Three Broomsticks.
The two trudged along the icy street in momentary silence, the crisp October wind whistling by their ears. Pumpkins that wore gruesome expressions which magically changed as you walked by lined the windows of shops and stores.
"…Don't you ever miss it?" Ron suddenly asked, a note of wistfulness in his voice.
Hermione sighed. Obviously he hadn't taken the hint that their temporary truce did not mean instant camaraderie. "What are you blabbering on about? Miss what?"
"Hogwarts!" Ron exclaimed, as if it were obvious.
Hermione stared at him blankly. "…We work there, Ron."
"No, I mean our Hogwarts. All of our little adventures and schemes and things…"
"Oh yes, all those good-natured, crazy adventures," Hermione snapped back sarcastically. "Like the one in which we had to watch our Potions teacher be brutally murdered, then kill the most terrible wizard of all time."
"Hey," Ron said seriously. "Truce, remember? Back off the sarcasm a bit. And no, I wasn't talking about that. I know how…" he searched for a word, "er…how…hard that was…er…on you."
Behind them, Paul and Roger dashed out of the Three Broomsticks, nudging each other as they ran off, whispering. They rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight.
"Well of course it was hard on me!" Hermione replied shrilly, beginning to walk faster. Ron had to put on a quick burst of speed to catch up and remain at Hermione's pace. "I was seventeen, Ron! We…I…and then you wonder why I wanted to avoid you and Harry! I just…I just didn't want something like that to happen again!"
"Whoa, whoa…take it easy, Hermione. He's gone now…"
"Oh, is he?!" Hermione shrieked. The calm, collected professor had suddenly lost all control. "That's what they thought the first time! And he came back!"
"He's not coming back," Ron said firmly.
"How do you know?!"
"Look, Hermione, I went through the same thing you are now," Ron explained. "I'd wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and all, wondering if he was really still alive, just…out there. Biding his time and waiting like before. But listen," he put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "He's gone. And you have to move on with your life, you know?"
"I had moved on," Hermione snapped shrugging his hand off her shoulder. "Then you came, and - "
"Don't start that again," Ron said, his tone slightly angry. He took a deep breath and composed himself. "Truce, remember? And me coming here didn't cause anything. I'll tell you what happened."
"Ah yes, Dr. Ron Weasley, the psychiatrist," Hermione muttered sarcastically.
Ron ignored her and carried on. "You took everything that happened that night, and you did the exact opposite of moving on - you bottled it up deep inside and whatnot, then pretended nothing had ever happened. You just have to face the facts of what happened that night and try to get over it."
Hermione laughed bitterly, starting to walk again. "Get over it," she repeated scornfully. "Right."
"Hey, it's tough," Ron answered, sticking his hands in his pockets. "But you shouldn't be afraid of something that happened seven years ago any more."
The two walked on quietly for a bit. Ron absently started kicking stones up the street as he shuffled along.
"Don't you ever have nightmares about it?" Hermione abruptly asked in a much softer voice.
There was a long silence. "…All the time," he finally answered.
Feeling slightly comforted, and yet regretting that quick moment of vulnerability she'd shown to Ron at the same time, Hermione folded her arms against the wind and continued on through the slick streets in silence.
"Why did you decide to come teach Hogwarts all of a sudden?" Hermione abruptly asked, genuinely curious.
"Oh, several reasons," Ron replied airily. Hermione glanced over at him suspiciously, but was rewarded only with a blank, innocent look from Ron. However, that bemused expression was all too familiar to Hermione, and it spoke volumes – Ron wasn't telling her something. And whatever it was, it was most likely not news she wanted to hear.
"Oh no," she groaned. "What? What is it?" Hermione demanded.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Out with it, Ron. You're hiding some – "
With a shriek of surprise, Hermione fell forward, having tripped over something. Ron's excellent reflexes, no doubt from years of Auror training, allowed him to sprint forward and grab a handful of her cloak. He yanked her backwards and onto her feet again.
Both of them stared, horror-struck, at the object Hermione had tripped over.
There on the ground lay a rigid, unmoving Paul White. His glassy eyes were staring straight up at the sky, and yet it seemed as if they saw nothing of its frigid October beauty. Hermione inhaled shakily a few times, then knelt down and felt his pulse.
"He's alive," she said in a strangled voice, turning back to glance at Ron. But he was already off, obviously looking for Roger. Hermione turned back to Paul, chewing her bottom lip rapidly and brushing his hair out of his face.
"Found the other one," Ron's voice said gravely. A few moments later he appeared, gently floating Roger along in midair with his wand. It looked like a rather awkward position, however, since Roger was stiff as a board.
Hermione glanced from one unfortunate student to the other, and then her eyes locked with Ron's.
"Petrified," they said in unison.
"But why?" Hermione said in a nearly panicked-sounding whisper.
"In the pub…" Ron murmured to himself. "Unlucky blokes knew something…"
"Knew something?" Hermione asked slowly, rising from her knees. "What are - "
"Not seeing things…" Ron muttered, repeating Roger's words to himself. "But what…argh. Dammit. Didn't think it was that serious…thought he was just paranoid…"
"Ron," Hermione said as calmly as she could, though her voice was shaking. "I'm going to ask you again…why did you come to Hogwarts?"
Ron looked from the two immovable boys to Hermione and sighed, running a hand through his flaming red hair.
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Woo! Let's hear it for cliffhangers! ^_^