*Chapter Six*
Two hours later found the three of them in Harry's room, no closer to finding the culprit than before. The house elves had been horrified when Ron told them what had happened to their dinner. By the time he left, his arms laden with food that did not scurry or hiss, they had assured him that they would keep their eyes and ears open for anything strange. Judging by the SIZE of their eyes and ears, Ron figured they should know everything that went on in the castle already.
Harry had struck out with the Slytherins as well. Snape had met him at the portrait door, letting him know in no uncertain terms, that HE would question the students in his House. That left Harry with little more to do than to return to the Great Hall and see if Filch had found anything while cleaning. His questions received only one- word answers that didn't tell him anything. He'd then searched the Hall himself, under the watchful eye of Mrs. Norris. Peeves had put in an appearance, blowing raspberries every time Harry asked him a question. By the time he got back to his room, he was in a fairly foul mood.
Hermione had taken on the task of questioning the staff that hadn't been present at dinner. By the time she had climbed the ladder leading up to Madame Trelawney's room, she was not in the mood for one of the Professor's 'predictions'. By the third time she'd heard she was going to die a horribly painful death, she was ready to rip her hair out. Instead, she managed to calmly thank Madame for her insight and left without cursing the woman. That, in Hermione's opinion, was something to be proud of.
When the three met at Harry's door, their moods were somber. No one spoke as they filed inside and sat down. Twenty minutes later, they were still silent, each eating some of the food Ron had brought with him.
"Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way." Ron said, finally breaking the silence. His long frame was draped in a chair, his black robe hanging open to show his jeans and white button-down shirt. He was thoughtfully chewing on an apple, eyes unfocused as he worked out his theory.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked from his sprawled position on the bed.
"Well, that little stunt at dinner was very elaborate. Much more complex and hard to coordinate than blowing out some windows or controlling a bludger."
"You don't think it's just one student?" Hermione asked. She was curled up in the overstuffed chair by the window, eating some grapes.
"I'm beginning to think it's not a student at all." Ron turned his head to look at them and waited for his words to sink in.
"Surely you're not suggesting that it's one of the Professors?" Hermione gasped, shocked.
"Wouldn't be the first time, would it?" Ron shot back. "But, no. I don't think so. We're the only teacher's that haven't been here for years. Besides Ginny, that is."
"What are you getting at?" Harry asked, sitting up to look at him, his eyes narrowed. The two men stared at each other, as if communicating silently.
"I think you know." Ron said after a minute. And, indeed, it did look like Harry knew. Which irritated Hermione to no end, because she hated feeling left out.
"Would one of you care to let me in on the little secret?" She asked with a huff. Ron flashed her an infuriating grin, leaned forward, and tossed his apple core in the trash.
"Think about it, Mione. Whoever is doing this, managed to materialize countless insects, rodents, and snakes into the Great Hall. Now, tell me, when we were 7th years, could you have done that? Even if you had mine and Harry's help?" He asked her. She took a minute to think back before answering. Could she have? Could the three of them? No, she didn't think so. Even with the extra training they'd received to deal with Voldemort.
"No, I don't. Not that many of them anyway." She admitted.
"Exactly! So, unless it's some form of conspiracy involving the entire student body, I think we need to look a little higher up on the food chain, so to speak. Who has a grudge against the school, or Dumbledore himself. That sort of thing."
"But, that leads us back to how he or she is doing it? How are they getting into the school? Why attack the students and not Dumbledore directly?" Harry asked. He looked more like he was thinking out loud, then actually confused.
"What's the best way to get the school shut down?" Ron asked them.
"Put the students in danger." Hermione answered quickly.
"Right. Put the students in danger, then parents start to get twitchy and start complaining to the Governors. Dumbledore looks like a fool for not being able to catch whose doing it. . ."
"He gets removed. Disgraced." Harry finished, looking slightly impressed. "If the pranks stop, it was a deliberate attack against Dumbledore. If they don't. . ."
"It was against the school." Hermione added.
"The trick is going to be, catching the person before it gets that far." Ron concluded, sitting back in his chair, a smug smile on his face.
"But, if you don't think it's a student or a professor, than who?" Hermione asked.
"I never said I was completely sure it wasn't a student. At least not a REAL student." Ron found he was faced with two confused expressions. He heaved a sigh, wondering how it was HE that was always considered the dim one, and ran a hand through his hair. "Polyjuice potion ring a bell?" Suddenly, it was like light bulbs went off over Harry and Hermione's heads "Crouch impersonated Mad Eye Moody for MONTHS without anyone the wiser. Hell, if it weren't for Voldemort's little Welcome Home party, he may have never been discovered. You don't think he was the only person capable of doing that, are you?"
Harry gave an involuntary shudder at the mention of his worst year at Hogwarts but quickly shook it off.
"Spell it out, Ron. Who do you think is here?" Harry demanded, ignoring the way his heart started thudding against his chest. Ron frowned, his brows drawing together with it.
"Tell you the truth, I'm not sure. But, don't you think it's strange that Dumbledore would ask us to come here? You-a bounty hunter that specializes in Deatheaters? Me, an Auror with the same credentials, both of us with an unprecedented success record. And Hermione, who's head of security at a museum FULL of artifacts Voldemort's followers would love to get their hands on. Why get us here, to deal with a STUDENT. Doesn't that strike you as a little extreme?"
Put in those particular terms, yes, it did.
"But, Dumbledore had no way of knowing that I would contact either of you." Harry protested. The look Ron sent him clearly stated that the red head was doubting his mental stability.
"To use your words, it's Dumbledore, Harry. Of course he knew. And who can say, that if you HADN'T contacted us, that he wouldn't have himself."
"So," Hermione interrupted, her mind racing with the possible next steps they should take. "We need a list of Deatheaters still at large and try to track their last known whereabouts."
"I'll owl my supervisor in the morning, for an updated list." Ron said. "Meanwhile, we interview the staff again. Find out if there were any students that seemed to have changed last year."
"But, Ron. We've already DONE that." Hermione reminded him.
"I KNOW Hermione. But, we have to keep it up until someone remembers something. It might have been a subtle change. Something almost unnoticeable, but, it HAS to be there. We just keep digging until we find it."
"All right. I think that's enough for tonight. I still want to meet tomorrow. It's getting late and finding a needle in a haystack isn't the only job we have here." Harry said, pushing to his feet and stretching stiff muscles.
"Ugh. Don't remind me." Ron said with a groan.
"Oh, what's the matter, Ron? Scared of a few children?" Hermione teased, standing and stretching herself. Ron took a moment to enjoy the view before standing as well.
"Fear has nothing to do with it. Just don't want to spoil them for whatever mediocre teacher they get next year, is all." Hermione laughed in his face, making him scowl. Harry watched them, amused and wondering how it was possible the three of them could go from barely being able to be in the same room, to the almost easy alliance they had now. He decided to file it next to 'Women' on his list of Mysteries of the Universe, and interrupted them before they really got going.
"Tomorrow night, after dinner then?"
"That's fine by me." Hermione said, stifling a yawn. Inexplicably, the note she'd managed to push from her mind since she took her bath, rose up in her memory. Without thinking, she opened her mouth to tell them about it, then quickly shut it again. Now, the note seemed silly and not worth mentioning at all. She didn't want to admit that she had been startled by a welcome back note.
"Right then. Til tomorrow." Ron said, turning to leave.
"Good night, Harry." Hermione said, hesitating as her inner voice nagged her to tell. Offering him a smile instead, she turned and followed Ron.
"Goodnight." He called after them as the door swung shut with a quiet click. Harry felt almost lighthearted as he got ready for bed. He could almost imagine that this had been years ago and they had just been brainstorming their latest adventure. It felt good.
He had just emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms, when a soft knock sounded on his door. Thinking it was Ron or Hermione, he didn't bother pulling on a shirt before opening the door. His eyes widened and his breath hitched in his chest when he saw who was there.
"Ginny?!"
~*~*~
"You don't have to walk me back to my room, Ron. I'm a big girl." Hermione said as Ron walked with her down the hall.
"I noticed." Ron replied with a grin.
"Is that all you think about?" She snapped before she could stop herself. She felt her cheeks start to flame and kept her eyes trained on the hall in front of them. His deep chuckle made her bristle and shiver at the same time.
"It is when I'm around you." He told her unashamedly. Their arms brushed with each step from how close he was walking next to her, the touch setting darts of electricity up her skin. She was starting to consider her body quite the traitor lately.
"Well, get over it." He chuckled again, the sound making her temper spike. "And just WHAT is so amusing?"
"You." He said simply. She shot him a glare out of the corner of her eye.
"I'm so glad I can entertain you." She retorted primly.
"C'mon, Mione. Don't be like that."
"Like what, exactly? And don't call me Mione." She hadn't meant to sound so harsh. Not to mention he'd been calling her Mione since fifth year. What was the point of objecting now? The slice of pain that flashed in his eyes lanced through her as well.
"What I mean, Hermione, is, I thought we called a truce until this is over." He reached out and drew her to a stop, his eyes staring into hers. Her face softened and she gave a frustrated little eye roll.
"That may be, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to tolerate your innuendos." She told him. He flashed a wicked grin before reaching up and tugging on a curl that had worked its way loose from her bun.
"What will it take for you to tolerate them?" She was sure that she had imagined the look of hope that flared in the blue of his eyes. She stared back at him, her heart pounding in her chest and thought about her answer.
"I think you know." She finally decided on. She watched his eyes narrow then widen when her meaning became clear. She then gave him a feline smile and turned on her heel to start down the hall by herself, leaving him to watch her, his mind racing.
~*~*~
"Finally. I thought they'd never leave." Ginny huffed, walking passed the still stunned Harry to stop in the center of his room. She turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest, to see him still standing at the door, staring at her gaped mouthed, with the door still held open. "Hello, Harry."
"Ginny?"
"I think we both know what my name is. Don't think you need to keep repeating it." She said flippantly, tossing her hair. She was amazed with the calmness of her voice, when her heart was stampeding in her chest. He didn't look any better than she felt, and she felt a surge of victory with that.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, after his brain finally wrapped around the thought that she was really standing in his room.
"Why don't you close the door and I'll tell you?" She shot back, arching a brow. He seemed to realize that he was still holding onto the door, his knuckles turning white with the force he was gripping it with.
"Not so sure that's a good idea." He replied, swinging it shut. He had a feeling, as the door clicked shut, that he was in serious danger of his parts being removed in the most painful way possible.
"Oh, don't worry, Harry. I promise not to hurt you." A sweet smile spread across her face, and Harry could have sworn that he heard her whisper "Much."
"Well, um, what can I do for you?" He asked, trying desperately to hold onto his calm. Several things were winging around in his head, none of them good. He was sure that this was going to be the most difficult conversation he'd ever had. Not to mention what would happen if Ron found out that his sister was in Harry's room in the middle of the night. They had just called a truce, and it all hung in the balance if he couldn't get her out of here. Quickly.
"Isn't that an interesting question?" She asked thoughtfully. "So formal. Definitely not the type of question former lovers would ask each other, don't you think?" Her tone had remained mild, but there was no mistaking the sparks shooting from the blue gaze she had trained on him.
"Ginny. . ." Harry started, raising a hand towards her. He dropped it with a sigh, then leaned back against the door. His eyes were bright and pain filled as he stared at her. She refused to be moved by it.
"No, really. I mean, how can two people go from being so totally and ridiculously in love, to no better than strangers? I'd ask Hermione and Ron, since they seem to be in the same predicament, but since they don't seem to have figured it out yet, I don't think I will. So, maybe you can tell me, Harry. How does it happen that one second, you think you have everything, and that nothing could ever tear you apart, to the next, and you have nothing?" No anger laced her words as she spoke, just a deep confusion that seemed to seep into the air.
"It's complicated." Was all he could offer.
"Oh, well. That's good. Because I would be extremely annoyed if it was easy." Sarcasm dripped from each syllable, making Harry flinch.
"I don't know what you want." He told her, his face full of anguish. Astonishment replaced the calm facade she'd been projecting for a brief second before her anger ripped through.
"You don't know what I want?! Are you seriously that daft? Well, you must have been, I suppose, to walk away from your life, from ME, without so much as glance back at the destruction you left behind."
"I couldn't stay, Ginny!" Harry snapped, pushing away from the door and advancing on her. She stood her ground, her entire body rigid with all her bottled up pain and fury.
"WHY!?"
"Because I was going to kill them. All of them. They killed Sirius. They were waiting for him when he apparated home. He never even had a chance to defend himself. They had to pay and I didn't want you touched by that!" He yelled, glaring down at her.
"You don't think I was? Every time a Deatheater was reported dead, you think that I didn't know it was you? Do you think I'm so naive? You don't think that I felt Sirius' death just as much as you? If only for you, I felt it. We were so close, Harry. How could I not?"
"It's not the same!" He cried, frustrated.
"Are my parents and Percy's deaths the same?" The look that crossed his face at her quiet question was pure desolation. He raised a hand to touch her face, to wipe away the stray tear that slipped from her eyes, but she flinched away. "Just KNOWING you, puts me in danger. Being related to RON puts me in danger. There was no way for me not to be touched by it. You left, and my parents and brother still died. So tell me, Harry. Did it do any good? Cause I don't see how it did. If you'd been here. . ."
"What, Ginny? What? If I'd been here, do you think they'd be any less dead?" His brows were furrowed together with the combined anger and frustration he was feeling.
"NO! But we might not all be so broken! Hermione and Ron might not have imploded. You wouldn't be at each other's throats now. If you had stayed and trusted the relationships that had gotten us through a war, we might still be whole. Leaving didn't affect just me. It affected every life you've ever touched. And not for the better, I can tell you." She turned away from him then to stalk to the window and stare out at the moon drenched lawn. "We stood by you, always. Why did you think we wouldn't continue to do so?"
Harry had no answer for her. No answer that wouldn't ring as hollow to her as it did to him, that is. He looked at her, really noticing for the first time that she wasn't the young girl of sixteen he had left behind. The moonlight spilled in the window, highlighting the deep red of her hair, the pale curve of her cheek, giving her an almost ethereal air. She took his breath away when he was seventeen. It seemed she still had that power. Her slim shoulders were set in a rigid line as the silence stretched out between them, filled with years of accusations and resentment.
"I'm sorry, Ginny. I never wanted to hurt you." He finally said, his voice defeated.
"But you did, Harry." Ginny turned her head to look at him then, her wide, blue eyes filled with tears, her voice shaking with them. "More than you'll ever be able to understand."
All Harry wanted to do was gather her up and beg her to forgive him, but her stance was clearly shouting 'stay away'. So, he stood, helplessly in the middle of the room, his eyes begging her for him. She walked passed him then, and left, unable to bear seeing those pain filled green orbs of his anymore. No matter what she told Ron, she knew it wouldn't take much for her to forgive him. Harry let her leave, guilt forcing him to.
"Don't be so sure." He told the closed door, feeling his heart shatter anew in his chest.
~*TBC*~
