Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The Apparition Exam

The Authors' Notes: Thanks to everyone so far who reviewed. We really value your comments, and also want to say thanks for being patient about this chapter. We hope to have Chapter Nine out in a more timely fashion!

Ginny didn't mind long stretches of quiet. In fact, she welcomed them. There hadn't been much quiet during her summers at the Burrow, and Hogwarts had never exactly been peaceful, so the fact that she was going to be alone all day didn't bother her a bit. She stretched out on the wooden floor of the front room, and tried to tempt Crookshanks with a bit of ribbon that dangled from her wand-tip. It didn't matter if she wanted to lie on the floor; no one was at home to see her. Sirius was at Culparrat. Harry, Ron and Hermione were off taking their Apparition exams. And Remus was sleeping in for the second day in a row, so to Ginny it was rather like having a house all to herself.

I hope that Remus wakes up soon, she thought, jerking her wand from left to right and smiling when Crookshanks followed obediently with a swipe of his paw and caught the ribbon in his claws. There was a sound of footsteps upstairs, and Ginny checked over her shoulder to see if Remus was coming down yet. She needed to speak to him privately.

It was difficult to work up the nerve to do it. She didn't know Remus extremely well yet, and though he was a very calm, good-natured person, he was also very guarded and somewhat difficult to approach. Sirius had been the easier one to talk to right off - at least, when he was at home. But it was Remus whom Ginny felt like confiding in, and with Remus there was a definite personal space that had to be maintained. Ginny could feel it. The air around Sirius, she reflected, was deep and dark sometimes, but very warm and magnetizing. Around Remus, the air was cool and placid. Unbreakable. Almost blue.

Ginny shook her head and smiled at her thoughts. Air didn't have colors, and she didn't believe in auras – Professor Trelawney's classes on the subject had been tedious and Ginny had never seen the "glow of inner unrest" that Trelawney had ceaselessly claimed shone around each of them. She had seen a lot of smoke while feeling drowsy and overheated. That was all. She rolled over onto her back and Crookshanks immediately took the opportunity to pounce on her chest and curl up. Ginny petted him and scratched his ears.

"Good boy," she murmured in a baby voice. "Good little Crookshanks, good little kitty – yes, you are."

Crookshanks purred appreciatively, and licked her face. Ginny giggled.

"I see you have an admirer."

Ginny craned her head around Crookshanks to smile at Remus, who had appeared at the foot of the stairs, dressed in his usual gray robes. The rings under his eyes matched them and exhaustion seemed to seep from him. Ginny could feel it from across the room - she knew exactly why he was so tired - and that was what she hoped to talk to him about.

"Yes I do, " she returned, sitting up and lifting Crookshanks into her arms. He didn't seem to be interested in cuddling any longer though - he pushed off her chest, sprang to the floor and wandered off down the hall, bottlebrush tail high in the air. "Or perhaps I don't," Ginny decided, laughing, and brushing cat hair from the front of her shirt. "What are you doing today?"

Remus yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. "Having tea, first," he replied, smiling. "And then I'd planned to work a little in the garden. I'd like to plant pumpkins this year."

Ginny saw her opportunity for private conversation. "Would you like company?" she asked at once. "I could help, if you like."

"Certainly." Remus looked almost cheerful at the prospect. "I'll be outside in half an hour or so." He yawned again, and went down the hall toward the kitchen.

Ginny got to her feet and went in the opposite direction, through the sunroom and out the back door to the wide, sprawling garden that made up the huge plot of land behind Lupin Lodge, stretching past its hedges all the way to the edge of the woods. Remus's parents had been attentive gardeners, and so was Remus - it was still evident how much care had once gone in to the maintenance of the plants. They were a bit wild and tangled now, from the neglect they'd suffered during the war, but they were still quite green, and very pretty. Having no idea what plot of land Remus planned to use, Ginny sat down to wait, watching gnomes as they scurried beneath rocks and into holes. She hoped Remus didn't want to de-gnome anything today. She hated throwing the poor things, even if they did bite.

Ginny rested her chin on her knees and tried to think of how she would broach the topic that had been bothering her. Last week, she had noticed a pattern. Remus would appear at breakfast, then go missing for an hour. At first, it hadn't struck her as odd - she had assumed he left the table to shower, or to read - but by the fourth day, she realized that he wasn't in the house at all. No one else had noticed this and she hadn't brought it up to them. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been fully absorbed in trying to work out what Draco Malfoy was doing in the house across the road, not to mention that they were all tied up with last-minute Apparition study sessions, which Hermione insisted upon.

But by the end of the sixth day, Ginny's curiosity was piqued and she was ready to ask Remus what he did every morning; she wondered if it was perhaps some kind of exercise. On the seventh morning of the week, she had planned to ask if she could come along - but, to her surprise, Remus had been present at breakfast. He'd been gone for supper though; he'd left a note, and she'd waited for someone else to notice his absence, or for Sirius to say something about it when he came back from Culparrat. But Remus had been gone all night as well, and that night had passed without comment from anyone. When Remus had returned the next morning, however, he had slept in until eleven o'clock, and when he had come downstairs, the skin on his face seemed to hang slightly off the bone.

Ginny had checked Hermione's lunar calendar, and it all made sense. She knew that Remus must have gone away for the night in order to transform into a werewolf. She was only surprised that no one else had noticed.

Sunlight glinted on something off to the right, and Ginny settled her eyes on a small shack-like structure, built of metal. It was more like a tall kennel than anything else, and the three deadbolts which sealed the door were rather intimidating. That must have been where Remus had lived out his transformations, before they had all come to stay at Lupin Lodge. Ginny shivered. It didn't look quite humane. She could hardly imagine Remus allowing himself to be locked inside. She wondered briefly if Sirius was the one who locked him in, or if, perhaps, they still roamed around as Padfoot and Moony on full-moon nights. She knew things about the Marauders, and knew how they had become Animagi, for Remus's sake.

It was so strange to think of someone like Remus Lupin as a werewolf, Ginny reflected, looking away from the depressing sight of the shack and fixing her eyes on the trees. She knew, from the stories she had finally heard, that the Shrieking Shack had been built in Hogsmeade for his use, that he had suffered violent transformations and that, of course, he still became a wolf, once every month. She tried to imagine Remus - calm, contained, rational Remus - howling and snarling like a dangerous beast. It was difficult. She wondered if he went away because he feared that he would hurt them. She wondered what it was like, being a werewolf.

"Ready, Ginny?"

Ginny jumped at his voice over her shoulder, and felt slightly guilty, as if he might have been able to read her thoughts. "Sure," she answered quickly, standing up. "Where do you do pumpkins?"

"Here." Carrying a metal pail, Remus led the way toward a wide, empty patch of rich, dark soil. Clearly, he had already prepared the area for planting - the ground was moist and the dirt had been weeded and turned. He knelt in the soil and drew his wand. "Perforatus," he muttered. There appeared, in the empty patch, a line of little holes like cups in the ground. Ginny knelt next to Remus and drew her own wand.

"What was that spell again?"

He repeated it, and she tried it out for herself. "Perforatus." But where Remus had created six holes with his spell, she was only able to get two. He smiled encouragingly nonetheless.

"That's very good. You want to concentrate on the line you're creating, when you say it. See it in your mind, as you want it to appear - I find that helps."

Ginny nodded and tried again, holding her wand out over the soil and imagining six cup-like dents of earth. "Perforatus."

Three more appeared.

"Well, that's some improvement, anyway," she muttered, feeling irritated that she couldn't do it perfectly, right away.

"Yes, it is," Remus returned mildly, setting the metal pail in front of her. Ginny saw that it was stuffed with tiny bags, all marked with different plant names. She reached in and withdrew the one that read 'pumpkin', unrolling it in her hand and beginning to distribute seeds into each of the cups.

"I'll do that," said Remus, holding out his hand. "And you can practice making the holes."

Ginny sighed impatiently, but handed Remus the seeds and held out her wand. She tried the spell again, getting just three holes.

"Take a deep breath, and try not to rush." Remus sounded much as he had the year he had been her teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ginny grinned to herself a little, remembering what a trouble she had been in that class. She took a deep breath, and concentrated.

"Perforatus." Five holes appeared, and Ginny squealed happily.

Remus laughed. "Excellent. Do it again."

Ginny held out her wand and continued to practice, attempting to intersperse the spell with conversation. "Do you remember me from class at all?" she asked him.

"Oh, yes. But I see you didn't listen to a word I said - your wrist still turns to the left after all this time."

Ginny straightened her wrist almost imperceptibly, and flicked. "I listened. I just forget."

"You just don't practice."

Ginny huffed. "I practice." She flicked again. No holes appeared. "Damn!" she said hotly.

Remus laughed again. "Yes, I remember you from class. Now concentrate."

Ginny did concentrate, and after half-an-hour, she found that she actually had the rhythm of the spell quite well.

"I've got it," she announced happily. "Can I do the seeds now?"

"Of course." Remus turned the little bag over into Ginny's hands, and they continued to move down the patch of earth, planting seeds together.

"Remus..." Ginny began tentatively, wondering if this was the right moment to introduce a difficult topic. He seemed to be in a welcoming mood. "May I ask you something rather personal?"

Remus's wand paused in mid-air. "You may ask," he answered slowly. "But I reserve the right not to answer. Is that fair?"

Ginny nodded. Of course that was fair. "It's just that last week... in the mornings...." She summoned her voice and cut to the chase. "I know why you were gone the day before yesterday, because I checked the calendar. Where did you go? Why did you go? And why were you gone every morning beforehand, for a week?"

Remus lowered his wand altogether and leaned back on his heels. "Ah," he said. For a while he was silent, and Ginny wondered if he would say anything else. But she didn't rush to ask any other questions - she had the strangest idea that he would tell her everything, if she was patient. She didn't know how she knew it, but she did. To pass the time, she planted seeds, separating the dead ones into a small pile on the ground as she worked.

And eventually, as she had anticipated, Remus answered her. If Ginny hadn't known better, she would have thought that he was talking about the weather.

"You've heard of Wolfsbane Potion?" he asked calmly.

Ginny nodded. "Yes, and I know what it does."

"I go to a small town in the north, each month, in order to take the potion so that my transformation will be as... tranquil as possible. There is also a small habitat kept by the apothecary there, in which I sleep while I am in the body of the wolf."

These words made Ginny shiver, but she didn't show it. There was something behind the even tone that Remus was using - something anguished and alarming. He hated being in the body of the wolf. She didn't have to ask what being a werewolf was like.

"That makes sense," she answered steadily, picking out two dead seeds and planting three good ones. "But what about the whole week beforehand?"

"The Wolfsbane Potion is only effective if taken every day during the week preceding the full moon."

"So you have to Apparate there every day for a week?"

"Yes."

"How tedious." Ginny wondered if she shouldn't have said that, but Remus laughed at her candor.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Encouraged by his tone, Ginny continued. "But there must be someone nearby who can make the Wolfsbane Potion? What about you? What about Sirius? What about the apothecary in the village?"

Remus shook his head. "It is possibly the most complicated potion I have ever come across," he said, a bit sadly. "Severus Snape was the only wizard of my acquaintance whom I trusted to make it." Remus grew quiet for a moment after that, and his eyes turned inward as if watching a scene. Ginny waited. She knew it must be difficult for him to think of Snape. It was impossible to truly accept the loss when the body went unrecovered, she reflected. She still prayed that Percy was only missing, though she knew it was futile, and she imagined that Remus must wish the same for Snape.

"He was a very intelligent Potions Master," Ginny said quietly, after a pause.

"He was, quite literally, a genius with Potions - though we never said it to his face." Remus smiled wryly. "In any case, I'm unable to manage the Wolfsbane Potion with any degree of consistency. And Sirius doesn't even want to try."

Ginny frowned. "Why not?"

Remus started, as if he hadn't meant to say as much as he had, and then looked at her appraisingly for a moment. "I think I'll reserve the right not to answer that one," he said lightly. "Suffice it to say that we'd rather not have any mistakes made. I want the transformation to be simple and non-violent for everyone involved, and if that means going away, then that is what it means."

"You're fighting with Sirius, aren't you?"

Remus gave Ginny a long look, one that made her decide against pressing him with further questions. She worked alongside Remus awhile longer in silence, until they ran out of seeds.

"Hm. I thought I had a few dozen more than that," Remus mused, getting up to brush dirt from his knees. He walked back toward the pail and rummaged through it for more pumpkin seeds, but found none.

Ginny scooped her little pile of ruined seeds from the ground, and stood up as well. "You have these, but they're not going to grow," she said matter-of-factly, turning them over into Remus's palm.

Remus stared at them a moment, and then gave Ginny a peculiar look.

"How do you know they're not going to grow?" he asked.

Ginny opened her mouth to answer, and realized at once that there was nothing to say. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I just...." She looked at the seeds in his hand. "Can't you tell they're dead?" It had seemed obvious to her.

Remus hesitated, then closed his hand around the seeds and smiled at her. "Well then we can't plant them, can we?" he asked mildly. "We'll have to go down to the village and purchase a few more. Care to join me?"

Ginny frowned again, feeling odd, as if something important had been revealed and she just didn't know what it was. "Sure," she said. "Let's go."

She followed Remus inside, waited for him to collect his money, and then walked with him out of Lupin Lodge and into the road - where she froze.

"Sod off, Malfoy."

"Go to hell, Weasley."

She could feel Remus tense beside her, and it didn't ease her sudden fear to know that her usually calm teacher was as perturbed as she was by the sight before them. There at the edge of the road was her brother, standing between Hermione and Harry. They were wearing their old school robes - they must have finished their exam and Apparated home for the first time. And either during that exam or directly after it, something very wrong must have happened, because Ron was rigid from his forehead to his feet. His stance was duel-ready. And the tip of his wand touched Draco Malfoy's heart.

Something sharp and white hot touched Ginny's own heart, watching them. The two boys breathed in unison, each ready to kill the other – Draco's wand was at his side but everyone knew how it was between them. If Draco could have had his wand up first, he would have. It was an equal hatred. But she had not ever seen her brother so close to committing a serious crime, and it was frightening. This - this - was Hermione's greatest fear, and Ginny knew it. And it was a legitimate fear, because sometimes Ron's temper was stronger than he was. It ran in their family.

Harry stood at attention on his left, ready to back Ron at a second's notice. Hermione stood on his right, pleading softly, without breath. "No, please - please stop - take your wand down - this isn't worth it -"

Ginny had not yet seen Hermione look this desperate - not even in the last moments before Voldemort's defeat. She had not seen Ron trembling as if on the verge of an actual killing. And she had not laid eyes on Draco since the last day of the war.

He was living across the street, of course, but he must have been doing his best to avoid all of them because she hadn't seen him at all. She realized now that she was glad of his cowardice and she hoped she wouldn't run across him again anytime soon – it was very, very hard to look at him. In fact, she felt such a strong wave of sympathy toward him that she very nearly felt like a traitor, and this was mixed with an even stronger wave of nausea. The sight of Draco brought the events of the last battle against Voldemort crashing into her memory.

It was difficult to erase her last image of Draco Malfoy, as it was difficult to erase everything terrible about the war. But that last day had been especially nightmarish. And it had all been so fast - so fast. She remembered watching Harry raise his wand to attempt Expecto Sacrificum against a looming Voldemort. And she remembered seeing, as if in a dream, the sideways approach of Lucius Malfoy, his wand raised, a fury twisting his features.

Hermione's words had come bluntly into her mind. "We all have to be willing to die. All of us. For Harry. And if there's a moment - even just one - that any of us consciously backs down from that duty... all of us are tied together in this, once we accept. If one of us fails the promise, then all of us can die."

Ginny probably would have done it anyway - no - she knew she would have. Hermione's words had only driven her to it more swiftly. It wasn't a decision; it was an instinct. She had stepped entirely in front of Harry to block Lucius' curse with her own body. And she had known that she was going to die - it hadn't been a question. She had heard Lucius scream, "Avada -" and she had shut her eyes and known.

But her father had lunged bodily in front of her before the Killing Curse was complete. Ginny's mind echoed her own terrified screams back to her, mingled with her father's cry of "Fractus!"

The Killing Curse blew powerfully from the back end of Lucius Malfoy's fractured wand, striking him soundly in his chest. He was struck instantaneously dead, by his own hand, not two meters from his son.

This was the image that Ginny couldn't shake. The velocity of the memory was staggering - so much pain in mere seconds. Draco had fallen into the dirt, his knees against his father's side, his face slack with disbelief, his hands extended uselessly over his father's lifeless body. He had mouthed soundlessly. Unintelligibly. The grief in the air had been palpable, to Ginny. The unbearable grief. And the sickening cry that had torn out of Draco seconds later seemed to linger in the air, even now.

No one had gone to him, Ginny remembered. There hadn't been time, and he'd been with the enemy. Everyone who was still standing had gathered around Harry as he had ended the war, and Ginny couldn't even remember what had happened after the magnificent flash of light and sound that had driven Voldemort from the world. She didn't know how Draco had gotten off the Hogwarts grounds and home – or whether his father's body had gone with him. But now here he was in the road, on the wrong end of her brother's wand, and Ginny felt herself suddenly and fiercely protective of his life. At the same time, she felt entirely confused, and a little bit disgusted with herself. Why on earth should she feel so overwhelmingly worried about Malfoy? She ought to have been worried about her brother and only her brother, at a moment like this.

"Ron."

Harry, Ron and Hermione spun like one entity toward the sound of Remus's even voice. Ron's wand fell to his side and he flushed. Hermione's features flooded with relief. Harry's jaw clenched.

Ron moved first. He threw Draco a final look of contempt and stalked through the yard past Ginny and Remus, muttering something profane about where certain people would Apparate, if they were smart. Hermione was on his heels, alarm and anger evident on her face as she disappeared into the cottage.

Harry was the last, and Ginny realized with some surprise that he wasn't looking at Remus, or at Draco. Instead, he was looking at her with open concern on his face. Slowly she registered the fact that at some point during her recollection of the war, she had grabbed Remus tightly by the arm with both her hands. Her legs felt quite unsteady.

"Are you all right, Ginny?" Remus asked, his voice low.

Ginny nodded, feeling strangely dizzy and wondering if she was very pale. Harry was walking away from Draco as though he didn't exist and coming toward her, but for some odd reason she could only watch Draco. He still hadn't raised his wand – not even when Harry had turned his back – and there was something so strangely lonely about his face that Ginny's heart went out to it instinctively. She gripped Remus's arm tighter, not sure what to make of her unwelcome feelings.

"What's wrong?" Harry had come quite close. "You look sick."

Ginny didn't answer. She felt sick. She was watching Draco turn around and go silently back across the street, up the great lawn of the Lewis Manor. She watched him until he'd disappeared inside, then shook her head, trying to clear it. What was wrong with her today? She looked at Harry, whose green eyes were fixed worriedly on her face.

"I'm okay," she heard herself say. Slowly, she made herself let go of Remus's arm. "What happened at the exam?"

Harry didn't look convinced. "We all passed," he said shortly. "Are you sure you don't need to come in and lie down?"

Ginny felt herself blush. Harry had been so much friendlier to her in the past several days that it was really astounding. "I'm really fine, Harry," she assured him quietly.

"I'm glad to hear that you all passed your tests," Remus said carefully, after a moment. "But I'd like to know what just happened here, with Draco." He paused. "Or should I be asking Ron?"

Harry sighed, and met Remus's gaze. He looked terribly tired, all of a sudden. "He and Ron must have taken their tests at the same time. I don't really know. I Apparated back into the D.A.L. and they were already..." he trailed off, looking as if he didn't want to rat Ron out, even if it was just to explain the situation to Remus.

Ginny nodded, and spared him having to finish. "Malfoy said something nasty, and Ron went at him," she said, as sure of her answer as if she'd been there to see the scene herself.

Harry nodded in confirmation.

Ginny turned to Remus. "Ron thinks it's Malfoy's fault that the Death Eaters went after Hermione's parents," she explained.

Harry looked at Ginny seriously. "Yeah. And Malfoy thinks it's your dad's fault that his father is dead."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "Did he say that?"

"Pretty loudly."

Ginny looked to Remus, who was standing and absorbing the information, looking even wearier than Harry. "Well, that's all to be expected, I suppose, though it's too bad that any of you have to deal with it just now. Perhaps I should try to have a talk with Ron –"

Harry held up a hand. "I wouldn't right now," he advised, looking toward the door of Lupin Lodge as if he had no desire at all to go inside. "They'll be fighting in there."

"Well don't go in, then," Ginny said quickly. "Leave them to it and come with us. We're going to get a few things in the village, for the garden."

"They'll kill each other," Harry protested, still watching the door dubiously.

"Good, let them." Ginny urged. "Spares us the trouble."

Remus laughed. "Funny," he said absently, grinning into space. "But Lily used to say those words exactly, whenever Sirius and I –" but here he stopped, and looked at Harry as if to gain permission to continue.

"Go on," Harry said swiftly.

Ginny looked at him. Harry seemed to have forgotten Ron and Hermione – and even the confrontation with Draco. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, his focus now totally on whatever Remus had been about to say.

Remus nodded. "Well... why don't you come with us, then, Harry. I'll tell you how your father used to try to smooth out minor disagreements between Sirius and myself."

They started walking down the road, towards where Malfoy had been standing moments earlier, and Remus continued, "Let's just say that Sirius was not always the well-balanced, even-tempered adult that you've grown used to." Harry raised an eyebrow, Remus shot Ginny an amused glance, and she smiled back at him. She knew that this was his way of answering her earlier question. He hadn't forgotten.

"James and Sirius were, of course, as close as brothers, and often thought with one brain, although your father was a bit more cautious than Sirius - not by much, but a enough to prevent them from causing serious damage most of the time." Remus stopped and laughed, slightly. "That's serious with an e."

Ginny and Harry grinned at each other, and Remus continued. "In school, I usually joined in, of course, generally after I'd given them several disapproving glances and warnings. And even when I didn't participate in their latest prank, it was always amusing to watch."

"Sounds familiar," said Harry, shrugging his robe off of one shoulder as they walked, revealing a T-shirt underneath. The sun was quite warm, although Ginny wasn't sure if the warmth on the back of her neck was from the sun or from something else.

"Yes," answered Remus. "Well, all that was fine until your parents got married, Harry. Sirius and I were left sharing a flat alone, and James was no longer constantly around to maintain an even atmosphere. We had some rows - both of us kept expecting to have James walk in any minute and break it up, but he didn't, and I think both of us were rather shocked in the beginning."

Harry craned his neck to peer backward down the road towards Lupin Lodge. "You don't think I should go back and see...."

"No," Ginny said firmly, grabbing the robes slung over his arm and pulling him along. Harry resisted for a moment; Ginny turned back and pulled harder. After a moment, he laughed.

"All right. This is more interesting anyway," he conceded, and gave Remus his attention once more.

Ginny wanted to smile - Harry had given in to her, after all. But the Lewis Manor had caught her eye the moment she'd turned back, and now her mind had returned to its previous, unsettled state. Her memories of the war were so clear -too clear. And why had Remus looked at her so strangely when she'd given him back those seeds? It was all so odd.

However hard she tried to concentrate on Harry and the things he was learning about his parents, Ginny found herself walking alongside Remus with a mind far more confused than attentive. Maybe she just wasn't feeling well. Too many hours out in the sun today. Ginny shook her head, glanced from Remus to Harry, and worked to forget her uneasiness as the three of them continued into the village together.

~*~

Hermione was not surprised when Ron headed directly through the house and toward the back garden. She knew that he found it difficult to contain himself indoors when he was angry; he banged his way through the front room, cursed loudly all the way down the corridor and slammed open the back door without much regard for the hinges. Hermione followed more quietly, doing her best to sort out her thoughts, which were spinning even more quickly than usual. Watching Ron a moment ago, she'd seen something terribly frightening happen in his face. He'd looked as if he wanted to kill Malfoy. Really kill him.

"Ron, stop, I can't keep up," she panted, pushing through the hedge at the end of the planted garden and running to catch up with Ron, who had nearly reached the forest. He stopped at her request, however, and turned to wait for her, a dark look on his face. Hermione caught up, and worked to catch her breath, unsure of what she wanted to say to him about what had happened at the D.A.L.

"He needs to go the hell home," Ron said abruptly, his eyes fierce. "And I don't need a lecture from you right now."

Hermione felt irritation rise up instantly in her blood. She hadn't intended to fight, but Ron always knew exactly what to say to get her started. "I just came out here to talk to you, Ron."

"Right. I know that look."

"What look?"

"That one." Ron pointed to her face. "The one you get when you're about to tell me off."

Hermione opened her mouth to do just that, but Ron shook his head and cut her off.

"I didn't do anything to him, did I? And I don't want to talk about him now. I just want him to leave."

"But if he stays, you're going to threaten him in the middle of the street every time he does something you don't like?" Hermione snapped. "He hasn't provoked us; he hasn't tried to interfere at all in our summer until today, and then only because we were forced into using the same exam center. He probably doesn't want to be here any more than you want him here!"

Ron eyed her silently for a moment. "Nice of you to stand up for Malfoy," he said finally, then pivoted and began to stride away, nearly twice as fast as he had been going previously.

"That is RIDICULOUS!" Hermione yelled, lunging after him and grabbing him by the wrist. "That doesn't even make sense and you know it! Stay here and talk to me!"

Ron turned sharply and yanked his hand out of her grip. "You want me to let Malfoy make ugly comments about you, is that it?" he said heatedly. "You think he should be allowed to keep that Death Eater attitude after everything we fought for? No!"

"There's nothing you can do about his attitude!"

Ron put a hand to his wand. "Oh yes there is."

Hermione shuddered involuntarily. "You don't mean that. Stop it. Stop acting like you want to hurt him."

"I do want to hurt him."

"No," Hermione said quickly, choosing to ignore the fact that Ron was clearly telling the truth. "No you don't. It's a word, Ron. Mudblood is just a word. It's not worth fighting over."

"Then what was that war about, Hermione?" Ron hollered, slamming his fist into his palm. "I'm not letting him get away with it."

"So you're going to curse him, next time he calls me a name? Is that what you're telling me?"

"I'm saying he'd deserve it if I did!"

"You'd be put in prison if you did."

Ron didn't reply. He looked very much as if he would have liked to hit something. Instead, he bent down suddenly, picked up a rock, and hurled it into the forest with incredible force. Hermione watched him, wondering what to make of it. She often didn't know what to make of Ron's temper; it wasn't entirely under his control and though she hated to admit it, it sometimes frightened her a little.

After a long, silent moment, Ron dropped down to sit in the grass, and ran a hand through his hair. "I told you I didn't want to talk about this," he said.

Hermione knelt down beside him and sat on her heels. "But I want to."

Ron looked at her. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

"You're scaring me," she continued, choosing to ignore his sarcasm, "I don't want Malfoy here, either. But there's nothing we can do about it and when you had your wand on him in the street like that, I thought for a second…" Hermione trailed off and clasped her hands in her lap. "I mean, I know you wouldn't really kill anybody -"

"I would."

Ron said it so firmly and so unhesitatingly that Hermione flinched.

"Please don't ever say that," she whispered, feeling her heart beat faster. She loved Ron, there was no way not to love him, but it made her sick to think that he could want to hurt someone that badly.

"But it's the truth," he answered. "I would. I'd kill anything that tried to hurt you."

The sick feeling in Hermione's stomach disappeared and was replaced with the familiar rush of heat that only Ron could bring on. He had always been so passionate about defending her; she'd lost track of the number of times that she and Harry had had to hold Ron back by his robes because Malfoy had said something particularly nasty to her. And every time he'd gone to battle for her, she had only learned to love him more. His protective instinct toward her had always made her feel safe and special - even before she had understood the reasons for her feelings.

Without a word, she reached for one of Ron's big hands, which was resting on his knee, and slipped her hand into it. His fingers tightened immediately around hers.

"I don't mean to scare you," he mumbled, after a moment.

She nodded.

"Ginny told me you cried, the day you saw Malfoy," Ron continued. "She told me you were worried I'd hurt him and get carted off to Azkaban."

"Culparrat," Hermione corrected unthinkingly. "Not Azkaban anymore - and Ginny wasn't supposed to tell you any of that!"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, that's what she said. I'm glad she did, though. Did you really say..." Ron stopped, and the ear that Hermione could see turned a definite shade of pink.

"Did I really say what?" she prodded.

"That, er... that you could stand anything but me getting taken away?" Ron blushed entirely now, and Hermione smiled. She reached up and gently kissed his very red ear.

"Yes. And I meant it."

Ron squeezed her hand, then let it go and put his arm around her. "Well it's not like I want to get put away," he said, and laughed. "I'll ignore Malfoy if I have to. I don't want us separated, either."

He leaned his head against hers, and Hermione thought guiltily of her intention to leave England to seek out the Thinker. She pushed the thought away. That was entirely different than being arrested for an Unforgivable Curse. "Just promise me that you won't fight with Malfoy again," she asked.

Ron groaned. "Hermione, I just said -"

"Just please. Promise me."

Hermione felt Ron's ribs rise and fall as gave an inaudible sigh beside her. "Fine," he agreed quietly. "I'll promise. Even though he makes me want to -"

"I know."

Ron turned and looked at her, and she felt a thrill run through her at the intensity of his expression. She shut her eyes, knowing that he would kiss her, and a moment later she felt his mouth cover hers.

"So we can Apparate," he murmured, several minutes later.

"I know. I was so nervous, I thought I'd fail."

Ron laughed. "No comment."

"Oh, shut up." She kissed him. "I was thinking I ought to visit my parents, now that we have our licenses. Can we go on Monday?"

"Fine with me. I'll tell Goldie I need Monday off - can I tell him why, if he asks?"

"Yes, all right. And, Ron? Have you ever heard of Thinkers?" The abruptness of her own question startled Hermione. She hadn't realized she wanted to ask him the question until the words were out, and once they were out, she wished she could put them back in.

Ron looked at her curiously, clearly intrigued by this sudden change of conversation. "Sure. Harnessing magic and all that. There's this one down in Greece, or something. Someplace Unplottable. She works with the Ministry every once in awhile - develops spells, I think. My dad knows. Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

It was a lie, and Hermione wished that she could take that back, as well - especially since Ron didn't look as though he believed her at all.

"Okay..." he began, clearly unconvinced.

Hermione shook her head to stop him, and decided to tell part of the truth. "I've just been thinking lately about my parents, and how a Thinker might be able to develop the magic to restore their minds."

Ron looked surprised. "I never thought of that," he said. "You should write to her."

"I have." Hermione looked down and started picking at the grass, still unsure of how much she wanted to reveal.

"Really?" Ron sat up straighter. "Did you tell her about your parents?"

"No."

"No?" Ron paused, as if waiting for an answer. When Hermione gave none, he nudged her with his shoulder. "Well why not?"

"Because it wasn't that kind of letter." She looked up at Ron quickly, and saw that he was frowning.

"Are you being mysterious on purpose, or something? What kind of letter was it?" he demanded, looking at her intently.

Hermione sighed. She'd gotten herself this far into it. "It was a letter seeking employment," she said quietly. "I asked her if she wanted an apprentice."

Ron seemed to freeze, for a split second. "An -"

"Apprentice."

"Oh." Ron shifted. "In Greece."

"Off Cyprus, I think. I mean, I can't be sure because it's Unplottable, but if you look at it logically, then from the reading I've done it seems to be -"

"So you're going there." His voice was abrupt. Short. He dropped his arm from her shoulders and sat back to look at her.

"I didn't say that."

"But you got the job."

"I didn't say that either."

"You got every other job you applied for, Hermione, and you're going to tell me you didn't get this one?"

"Yes."

Ron blinked. Obviously he hadn't been expecting that answer. "Yes?" he asked, tentatively. "Yes, you didn't get it?" He couldn't quite hide the hope in his voice, and Hermione fought down a sudden surge of anger. She'd known that Ron wouldn't be keen on the idea of her leaving England, but she had also expected his support.

"Yes. I didn't get it."

Ron nodded. "That's too bad," he offered, a little too cheerfully.

Hermione snorted, not quite under her breath. "And we have a winner for most encouraging boyfriend of the century."

"Now come on," Ron began, working his face into a position of supportive interest, which irritated Hermione even further. "If it was what you really wanted, then I'm sorry you didn't -"

Hermione waved her hands to stop him. "Don't even try it. You're better off not saying anything else, honestly."

Ron sighed. "So now I'm in trouble."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please." She stood up and brushed the dirt from her robes, unwilling to talk to Ron any further about her real plans for the end of the summer. Since speaking to Ginny, she'd decided that if no letter of acceptance came from the Thinker, she would attempt to find the woman anyway. And if Ron didn't want to be helpful about it, then she just wouldn't tell him anything else right now. "Let's just go in." She began to walk quickly toward the back of the house.

Ron scrambled to his feet and caught up with her. "It's Harry's birthday next Friday," he said, obviously hoping for a change of subject.

Hermione nodded, and kept walking.

"We ought to do something for him, since we get to be with him this year," Ron continued earnestly, as if a show of friendship toward Harry would earn him forgiveness. "Don't you think?"

"Sure, why not." Hermione thought that her tone was noticeably nonplussed, but Ron only grinned, apparently forgetting all about Thinkers for the time being as they approached the back door. He continued to talk about Harry

"We ought to surprise him. Really get him good. I'll bet Fred and George would come up from Hogsmeade, and we could get Sirius to stay home for once - I'll tell Dad to make him take the day off."

"Great idea," Hermione said briefly. It was amazing, the way Ron could completely ignore the fact that she was angry, and continue a conversation all by himself.

"We can plan the entire thing behind his back," Ron finished happily, looking very pleased with himself.

"You mean we can plan it in front of his face," Hermione corrected tersely, walking up the back steps. "Don't you think he might guess?"

Ron guffawed. "Who, Harry? When he's got Cannons tryouts starting on Monday? We could talk about it all night at dinner and he wouldn't even hear us. He's oblivious half the time, and it's even worse when Quidditch is involved, trust me. Dean, Seamus, Neville and I used to joke about transfiguring his Firebolt into a girl and slipping it into bed with him one night. We thought he might push it away if he didn't recognize it as his broomstick. He did sleep with it in the bed once before a match you know."

Hermione's hand went to her mouth and she instinctively tried to stifle her giggle. She realized again why it was so difficult to stay angry with Ron for more than five seconds at a time. "Ron!" She tried to sound shocked and angry, but she knew that her eyes were betraying her. "You never actually did that, did you?"

He shook his head, but raised one eyebrow suggestively.

"You won't do that now! Don't go getting any ideas in your head!"

Ron looked back at her for a long moment. "Yeah," he answered. "I know." He smiled.

They stood still until the moment had passed. Hermione's annoyance passed along with it, although she knew that she and Ron still had a lot to work out. She'd told him a bit of what she was thinking, and she'd seen his response. For now, she'd keep the Thinker to herself. She had until the end of the summer to make him understand.

She headed into Lupin Lodge with Ron at her side, laughing openly when he suggested that they give Harry a framed copy of his first Daily Prophet interview as a birthday present.