Notes: I'm sooo sorry about this taking forever. I've been nervous about starting school, finally being a freshman, and all that. Plus I've been spending loads of time with my friends, and I went to the Evanescence concert that rolled around. (Omg it was awesome!) Plus I was working on a project that I don't plan on putting up here till about Christmas. Actually, I wasn't intending on updating this until next Saturday, but then I got Savvy's review. I had to update. So thank you Savvy, for finally pushing me into another chapter!

~*~

Ginny retreated to her room that evening with mixed emotions, shutting the door softly behind her as a frown replaced her look of contentment. Harry has returned her to her apartment immediately after they finished their meal, both of them walking in a thoughtful silence. She had been pondering his words, and his intentions behind them. It was perfectly delightful that he had finally explained the letter, but something still wasn't quite right. Stumbling across her once wasn't enough to make him chase her all through Diagon Alley, into the muggle world, and to steal her wand all in an attempt to get her to forgive him. There had to be an alternative motive.

Still pondering it, she deftly went through the motions of getting prepared for bed before realizing that it was not even nine o'clock. Grumbling, Ginny flopped into the chair before her small desk, leaning her elbow on the wood surface and resting her chin in her hand. Lifting her quill, she glared down at the organized jumble of papers, severely hating all the red tape that came with her work. However, she set herself resolutely to the task, thrusting thoughts of Harry to the side.

~*~

Hermione was in a similar position several miles above Ginny, though her hopes of shoving away thoughts of one of the men in her life were hopeless. Setting herself the task of discovering a cure for the dementor's kiss was incredibly stupid, as it was deemed impossible by most, and those who believed in her cause knew the emotional damage it was wreaking on Hermione. Moody had tried on several occasions to dissuade her from the study, but it was hopeless. They both knew that in all likelihood Hermione was the only witch who could delve into the impossible and come forth with a solution, as they both knew how critical it was to the capture of Lestrange.

Ron had spent nearly a year within the clutches world's largest antagonist, and the auror's had no doubt of it. Their only was problem was that Bellatrix had delivered Ron to them shortly after having him bestowed with a kiss, making him utterly useless. They needed a cure to revive him, for where Lestrange was not nearly as powerful as Voldemort; she was unexpectedly cunning and calculated, and had the strong magical gift all Black's inherited. It was enough to make her quite a threat.

Dumbledore had mentioned once, shortly before his death, that there had formerly been a cure for the horrendous deeds of the dementors. Hermione had forgotten his words until she had seen Ron, blank faced and empty eyed. She had decided, immediately, that she would rediscover it. There were too many things that she wanted to tell him to simply let him remain in the whitewashed walls of those without mentality.

Hermione had begun to think it useless until, just a week ago; she had deciphered the first line of the rather ancient code. One of closest blood, which she had assumed had meant Ginny. The only difficulty was that the first line had taken nearly two years, and there five lines to go. Ten more years, Hermione didn't think that she could possibly clutch onto her hopes for that long.

She hissed through her teeth, tossing the unhappy thoughts aside and settling her mind firmly on the task at hand. If she had anything at all to do with it, Ron would come back. He had to. Hermione was not about to lose him.

A sudden knock on her door erased her concentration, and weary brown eyes were drawn to the clock above her small window. "Who could it be now? It's nearly ten." She growled out, stuffing a few confidential papers in to their appropriate folders before calling, "It's open."

Hermione was quite shocked when Harry stepped in, his dark hair windswept and a broomstick in one hand. But the thing that astonished her most was the fact that he was grinning. A huge, vibrant, turning of the lips that she hadn't seen on his face since their school days.

"Merlin, Hermione; it felt so good to fly." She nearly laughed aloud at the enthusiasm in his voice. It was amusing; the things sports could do to a person like Harry. He seemed considerably changed from their talk--goodness, was it only that morning?

"What made you pick up your Firebolt, Harry? Practice?" She asked, motioning towards the other comfortable maroon armchair in the room. He took it, following her gesture, his smile so joyous that she momentarily forgot the work on her desk.

"Not really. But it was just sitting there when I got home, so I decided to give it a whirl. I flew up here, and decided to pay you a visit. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not. It's a welcome rest from all this." She sighed, the brief happiness doused with suddenly painful memories of Ron.

Harry leaned forward, placing his hand over where hers rested on the desk. "Don't worry, Hermione, you'll find it. If anyone can, you can." He offered her an encouraging smile, this one soft and friendly. "You've got the resources, the brains, and the motive. You'll get him back."

It was so odd, for Harry to show such emotion, that Hermione was rendered momentarily speechless. When she finally found her voice, her tone was curiously teasing; though a drop of sorrow remained imbedded within. "What did Ginny do with you?"

He grinned again, shaking his head. "So, how have you been? Not overworking yourself, are you?"

"Oh, like you're a good one to talk." She responded, a small smile appearing nonetheless.

"Yeah, well, I dunno. I flew, didn't I? And I didn't have dinner alone, like usual."

"Oh? Who did you eat with? Neville?"

He glared sharply, placing his hands behind his head. "No, thank you. I ate with Ginny. We sorted things out."

Hermione clapped her hands excitedly together, eyes lighting up. "Excellent. Moody'll be delighted."

"Yeah, well, there's just one problem." Hermione raised her eyebrows, clearly not seeing the fall. "Friends don't normally stalk other friends, which is basically what you want me to do. Ginny isn't going to put up with me trailing her night and day. She'll get suspicious, or she'll just tell me to bugger off. I don't appreciate to be hexed."

Hermione grimaced. "Sorry, Harry; but there's nothing to tell you. We need her more than you can imagine."

"We?" Harry leaned forward unexpectedly, and she began to get the impression that he had visited for more than was apparent. "So you do have something to do with this. That's why you were in Moody's office. What is it, Hermione? Does it have something to do with Ron?"

She had forgotten that despite the brawn, Harry had brains. Or rather, he drew excellent conclusions. "We think, no, I think, that she's the first piece of the puzzle. We have the first line." Harry made as if to speak, but she cut him off with the shake of a head. "I can't tell you what it is, Harry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't even have told you that."

"Bloody secrets," Harry cursed, running a hand through his midnight locks.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic half-smile. "You know how it is. The ministry's crazy about all these secrets. You'd think they'd have lightened up a bit with the lack of attacks, but security is just as strong as ever."

"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "Well, I'd better go. I'll se you 'round, 'Mione." He stood, gripping his broomstick in one hand and strolling out the door.

"See you, Harry!" Hermione called after him, before focusing on the tiny picture on her desk. It was a tiny picture of a red-head, his grin wide as he waved at her from the seventh year picture. "We'll do it Ron, I swear we will."

~*~

Draco lounged before the fire in his living room, surrounded by elegant tapestries, statues, and furniture. The place was chill, despite the fire roaring in the hearth before his pale silver eyes. He grinned when a head suddenly appeared within the roaring flames.

"Good evening, Bellatrix." He greeted her, eyes scanning over her slick, dark hair and vibrantly malicious eyes.

"No time for sentimentalities, Malfoy. Have you begun?" Her voice, crisp and cool, cut through the atmosphere.

"Tsk, tsk, do you think so little of me? It is only a matter of time." He lifted a cigarette from the golden box beside his impressively large armchair, lighting it airily.

She snarled, her face looking briefly like that of her former cousin's when caught in a particularly nasty moment with Snape. "Don't get arrogant. Any problems at all?"

"Potter boy's come around again. She gave him quite a slap for mentioning her dear brother."

Lestrange laughed, nodding gleefully. "Very well. Just make sure that he doesn't out due you."

"There's no need to worry about that." Bellatrix nodded curtly, vanishing before Draco's sugary sweet words fell into the near silence. "My home has been lacking a certain feminine touch."

~*~

Please don't get mad at me for the awful chapter, I tried. Ask phantom, this little mess of words took me ages. But yeah… Please review! I'll try to update on Saturday, but I'm not sure that I'll be able to. School starts tomorrow, and I don't know just how fast they'll start piling the homework on.