Disclaimer: I have two jobs and I still cannot afford the repercussions of claiming Harry Potter as my own. Still on the bottom of the writing foodchain.
A/N:
Thanks to my wonderful beta Jennifer for her hard work and encouragement.
Thanks to the reviewers; Hopeless Romantic, Blanche Dubois, Rose AquaFire, Frozen Darkness, Eriador and FEAngel258. I apologize for the heartwrenching last chapter.
Only a few chapters left to this story. I've really enjoyed writing it. I hope that you all have enjoyed reading it, as well. Thanks for your consistent support.
***
"Everyone has talent. What is rare is the courage to follow the talent to the dark place where it leads. "
- Erica Jong
***
Draco couldn't even cry. He was impressed at his own continuing ability to function. The thoughts that overwhelmed him, that kept him up until the last few hours before breakfast…. They never left him.
He thought about Hermione constantly. He remembered the pain in her face when they'd said goodbye… for good. Her hurt and his guilt at causing it refused to leave him. He thought about what she would do now… where she would go… whom she would turn to. She certainly didn't fit in with the Wonder Boy any longer – she had killed a man, after all. He knew that Harry would never take her back if he knew, and he also knew that Hermione wouldn't be able to go back to him with that skeleton in her closet. She needed someone who understood her and would support her.
It was then that his thoughts flickered to Ronald Weasley. When the fuck he had decided to make something out of himself, Draco didn't know. He had been completely shocked to find him at the initiation ceremony. But, somehow, Draco knew that he wouldn't confide in Hermione. She would find no solace there. Either he would be afraid to tell her or… Or perhaps he wasn't really on Voldemort's side at all. It was entirely possible that Weasley was spying. Draco grimaced at the possible consequences Weasley would face if that were true. In any case, Hermione would certainly not find a confidant in Ron.
Then again, he supposed she didn't really need anyone. She possessed the kind of independence that he had always wanted.
Instead of comforting him, this only served to cause him greater concern.
Would she turn on him? He doubted it. He knew that she loved him. It didn't matter that it hadn't actually been said until the night of their breakup. One of the greatest things about their relationship (could he even call it that?) was that neither ever had to state the obvious.
His greatest worry was Voldemort. He had tried to protect her from that… Oh, if only she knew… Involuntarily, his thoughts flashed back to the night he had received the mark – the night she had decided to sacrifice him for Harry – to sacrifice love for loyalty.
"So, the young Malfoy… Let's hope that you will prove somewhat more loyal and less spineless than your father. You've already done me great service over these last few years."
Those cold, creepy fingers were caressing Draco's jaw line. He dared not rise from his kneeling stance, or even raise his eyes to meet the Dark Lord's. 'Watch what you ask for' thought Draco grimly. 'I might just take over your little operation someday.'
Suddenly the gentle caresses turned into an ice-cold, bony grip around Draco's throat. "Look at me."
Draco's chin rose without his consent and he found himself staring into the heartless red eyes.
"Before I allow you to become one of… mine…" Voldemort paused and… grinned, a truly disturbing sight… Draco could only imagine the double entendre he had implied in this statement. The thought made him shiver and want to wretch. He wished he didn't have such a strong imagination.
Voldemort stopped grinning. "Certain rumors have reached me about your recent activities."
Draco's blood seemed to freeze. 'Oh God, please don't know about Her. Oh no, please no…'
Somehow he knew it was in vain. Of course the Dark Lord would know. How could he have been so stupid? Voldemort would have had plenty of spying opportunities throughout the history of their little trysts.
His face remained calm, however, portraying no sign of fear.
"Tell me about your relationship with this… Mudblood girl. I believe her name is… Granger?" Voldemort looked to Lucius for confirmation. Lucius nodded vigorously and opened his mouth for more of an ass-kissing opportunity, but wasn't able to say anything.
The Dark Lord was not in the mood to deal with Lucius tonight.
Draco suddenly couldn't breathe, but he didn't think that it had anything to do with Voldemort's grip on his throat. Still attempting to save both himself and Hermione, however, he sighed heavily, using the last air in his lungs.
"With all due respect, my Lord, I would hope that you would know me well enough by now to know that there could have never been anything… significant… going on with that… Mudblood."
His own words were burning him. The Dark Lord said nothing, but did not seem satisfied. Draco decided to continue.
"I'm sure you remember what it was like to be my age, Lord. I wanted a… plaything… if you will…And she was rather attractive. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to play with her emotions, after all of the irritation she's given me over the years. And it was."
The Dark Lord released his grip and turned away from Draco. He waited for the word and the flash of blinding pain… He was sure that he had earned it. You just can't lie to Voldemort and get away with it. He was about to open his mouth and spew some sort of apology when the Dark Lord turned around.
He muttered a hasty Morsmordre, touching Draco's forearm, and strolled on to the next initiate. It was much less ceremonial than Draco had expected, but he hardly had time to notice. He quickly collapsed from the pain. He had no idea how long he lay there, willing the tears to stay back, and grasping his arm that now missed some flesh. His only thoughts were focused on how close he had come to admitting his lie – on how close he had come to dying. Three words repeated in his head until he finally blacked out from the pain.
She weakened me.
At first he had been angry. Angry at her and angry at himself for loving her. And then he was angry with Voldemort.
He finally reached the point where he convinced himself that everything that was wrong had come from Voldemort. It was then that he decided to break the spell on Harry – as a 'fuck you' to the Dark Lord and as a last ditch attempt to heal Hermione's hurt – to undo any damage he had caused.
There were very few things that Draco regretted in his life. For the most part, he viewed bad experiences as an important part of growing up. Everything was a learning experience to him.
But the night following his breaking of the curse, Draco regretted his decision. He had been through Crucio before. It was hard to not be exposed to it, in spite of his mother's attempts, it was a definite presence when you grew up the son of a Death Eater and took lessons from the Dark Lord for two years.
But this was nothing like Crucio.
***
Ron grimaced as he watched the gargoyle move to reveal Dumbledore's escalator. Fucking around with Snape's mind in front of the Potions' class had been a very bad idea. A part of him was still indignant about the fact that Snape had provoked him, that Snape had started it, that it had been entirely Snape's own fault.
But the rest of him realized how incredibly childish this was. He had to face his own mistakes. He had to admit that he was wrong and he had to apologize to a still-reeling Severus Snape.
His thoughts drifted briefly to his meeting with the headmaster the previous day. He had never seen Dumbledore so… disappointed. Dumbledore's disappointment in him was the worst feeling he had ever experienced. He wished desperately that he could take back what had happened. But it was too late for regrets, too much for apologies…
It was time for punishment. He sighed and mounted the escalator.
***
She thought she'd be able to deal with it. She was stronger now, there was no doubt about that. But she wasn't quite strong enough to handle this kind of pain.
After their breakup, he had politely ignored her, opting to neither insult her nor be kind to her in public.
That was all shot to hell now. It seemed like every time she passed him he would have a new nasty thing to say to her. She liked to believe that it was his way of helping her, of trying to keep her strong without weakening them both in a loving relationship.
After the first day she realized how diluted her logic was.
It was still a few days before it began to make her angry. Just what right did he have? After everything, after all of the progress they had made?
And she knew things about him, too. Things that she could use against him. The fact that his arrogance allowed him to believe that she wouldn't… that he didn't think she was strong or clever enough to hurt him… it made her want to use it against him even more.
She considered the possible avenues she had. She could talk to Dumbledore, tell him that Draco was a Death Eater… although then she would have to reveal some of her own activities… that one was a given. She could send him an anonymous letter about Draco's guilt in the Quidditch accidents… that would surely be enough to get him put away…
But then, she didn't want that. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted him to feel like she did.
She could try his jealousy by attempting some sort of relationship with Ron or Harry… But then, that would hardly be fair to them and she didn't really think she could put herself through a relationship with either of them anyway… Not that, at this point, either one of them would react well to the thought of a relationship with her.
Finally, her mind came to settle on the last thing he'd said to her, in their final meeting.
"I belong to someone else now."
Maybe the way to Draco was now through Voldemort. She was sure that he wouldn't take kindly to Draco's spreading of information.
But she didn't want him dead. Just hurt. She wasn't sure Voldemort would share her feelings on the matter.
Did he even have feelings?
She sighed. Alright, so none of the options seemed viable. Perhaps this is why he hadn't expected her to act on what she knew. He knew that she wouldn't be able to.
The thought infuriated her. There had to be another way. She didn't want to simply play the tattletale. She smiled. That was how it had all begun.
But she wanted action. What could hurt Draco?
After awhile, she smiled. She had been skipping over what she should have assumed all along. Draco loved her. She didn't doubt it, as many insults as he threw at her. At the same time, he underestimated her. He didn't think she was powerful enough to be what he was. He wasn't seeing her as an equal.
She frowned. Maybe her logic was backwards. Maybe he was overestimating her. Maybe he envisioned her as too strong of a person to become a Death Eater.
She shook her head. Regardless, Draco loved her. Probably more than he loved himself… After all, she didn't see how he could put himself through what he was if he did really love himself. But her… when she had been in danger, he had nearly exploded with rage. She had never seen him as upset as he had been the night she returned from Hogsmeade… The night she had killed a man.
She shuddered, pushing back the memories and concentrating on new ideas.
She spent several hours tossing and turning in her bed before she decided.
An old Muggle saying had been replaying in her head; 'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.'
She was going to become a Death Eater. She was going to subject herself to pain and learn from it. She was going to become weaker than she had ever been, yet she would eventually become powerful enough to defeat the Dark Lord. She was going to go against everything she had ever stood for.
She was going to kill Hermione Granger.
And Draco would feel the loss.
***
Draco could do nothing but lay on the spot to which he had Apparated. He had never ever experienced pain this severe before. The burning in his forearm that reminded him of why he was here seemed almost like relief in comparison. With every ounce of patience and strength left in him, he turned his face in what he assumed was the direction of his Lord.
"You… You wanted to see me, my lord?"
He, however, could not see anything, aside from searing white-hot pain, and could barely get enough air to breathe, let alone choke out his question.
"Draco Malfoy. You know, I'm sure, why I've called you here tonight?"
Draco flopped his head and hoped that the Dark Lord took it as a nod. He did.
"Explain."
Draco sucked in as much air as possible. "Suspicious… Lord… They were suspicious… And Granger… Granger…"
Draco stopped himself. What in the hell was he doing? He was about to hand her right over to the Dark Lord. After all he'd done….
"What about this Granger girl, Draco? I thought you said she meant nothing to you."
Draco sucked in some more air. "Yes, but I… She… I'm important to her… I could…She's close to Potter…"
He stopped to get more air. The Dark Lord did not speak but Draco thought he felt some of the pain lessen. Of course, he might just have started to become delirious. That was the only excuse for what he was doing right now.
"I thought she could… If you had him here Lord… Much easier than through Hogwarts… I… I'm sorry my Lord. I feel as though I've failed you."
The pain suddenly stopped. Draco took as many deep breaths as he could, not knowing if it would start again. He started to hyperventilate. Voldemort murmured something and he felt himself relax.
"Draco, I am severely displeased with your lack of respect for me. The fact that you would simply sacrifice years of our hard work… It shows a complete lack of loyalty and respect. Not to mention intelligence…"
Draco wondered wildly if these were the last moments of his life.
"But… I do think it was clever of you to recognize an advantage and want to use it as an opportunity to assist me and take down Potter. Although I am not entirely sure of your true intentions towards this Mudblood girl, I will allow you to bring her to me. When we have Potter, you may have her. Consider it a great gift, as my mercy should be enough payment."
Draco took a deep breath and threw himself at Voldemort's feet. "Yes. Of course. Thank you my Lord. Thank you."
Voldemort nodded and waved his hand, which Draco took as a cue to leave. Before he could Apparate back to Hogsmeade, however, the Dark Lord stopped him again.
"Oh, and Draco… I should be interested in speaking to you later about why exactly you taught this Mudblood about the Dark Arts."
Draco froze, swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, my Lord."
***
Harry bit his lip and attempted once again to concentrate on his History of Magic essay. He couldn't draw his attention away from the portrait hole, however. He wanted them to come back. Either one of them. Ron had wandered off hours ago, muttering something about seeing Dumbledore. It concerned him that he had yet to return. He assumed that it had something to do with Snape's accident in the Potions' class the other day, but as he hadn't yet been recovered when it occurred he wasn't entirely sure.
He was reasonably sure that Hermione had gone to bed long ago, but he wasn't positive. Especially if she had been sneaking around to see Malfoy in the past few months. Now…. Now, he realized with a small amount of nausea, he didn't trust her. He didn't believe Hermione when she said she was going to bed. He didn't believe her when she said things were over with her and Malfoy.
He didn't even know if she loved him anymore. He wanted to believe it. Desperately. But he didn't know. And he was afraid to ask her.
He sighed, pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He had to get back on track. He had missed entirely too much school in his daze to skive off homework now.
Harry had just finished the introduction to his essay when his redheaded best friend climbed through the portrait hole and collapsed.
***
"Ron! Ron!" Harry winced at the squeak in his own voice, but didn't slow his step as he rushed over to a prostrate Ron.
Ron flipped over so that he was facing Harry and forced a weak grin. "I'm alright. Just tired."
Harry narrowed his eyes. He began to put his hands on his hips, but realized just how much of a Molly Weasley action that was and instead ruffled his hair.
"Ron. I'm not an idiot. Don't play dumb with me. Something's definitely wrong. What happened?"
Ron took a deep breath and lumbered to his feet. He only made it a few steps into the common room before he collapsed into an armchair. Harry was almost positive that Ron was going to ignore him until he heard him speak, in a very low voice.
"Occlumency."
Harry swallowed hard and took a seat across from Ron.
"Why are you messing around with Occlumency, Ron?"
Ron sighed and rubbed his face. "I can't tell you. Hell, I shouldn't even be talking to you. I just… I didn't know you'd get better so soon. And now… Well now I'm in a situation. And Harry…"
Ron paused and brought his hands away from his face, meeting Harry's gaze. Harry didn't miss the tears filling Ron's eyes.
"Harry… I'm sorry. For everything that might and will happen from this point on. I'm sorry, and I can do nothing but beg for your forgiveness. But this might very well be the last time that you ever hear such a sentiment from me. I love you Harry, no matter what happens. Please remember that."
Harry furrowed his brow. "What happened, Ron? You can tell me. Remember me? Harry. Harry Potter. It's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay. I'll forgive you. You're… You're like my family, Ron. Nothing will ever change that."
Ron sighed and pulled himself shakily to his feet. "Just please remember what I said. Goodnight Harry."
Harry watched his best friend climb the steps to their dormitory, treating each one as if it was its own staircase and wondered desperately what was going on.
***
The following morning found Hermione in the library with the rising of the sun.
Now that she had had some time to think, she had no idea how she would go about becoming a Death Eater. It wasn't exactly the sort of thing that you could find a want ad for in the Daily Prophet.
She sighed and continued her rummaging through her schoolwork. She had come to the library more for thinking than actual working. She had been toying with the idea of practicing some wandless magic, but decided that she needed to focus on solving the Death Eater problem first.
"Let's see… Who could…" She frowned. No. Not him. Her thinking had continuously been bringing her full circle back to Draco. There was absolutely no way she could approach him about this. After all, wasn't this all about hurting him?
She frowned again. Now, in the musty, sunlit library, her logic wasn't as clear as it had been last night. What the hell was she doing?
"Granger."
Her shoulders stiffened. She prepared herself for whatever insult he could find to throw at her now.
Evaluating her response as a negative one, Draco decided to try a different approach. "Hermione."
She took a deep breath and continued facing forward, refusing to give him the benefit of her full attention. "What, Malfoy?"
He sighed and pulled out the chair next to her. His hand brushed her thigh as he did so and she shivered.
"Hermione… Please… You must understand."
She sighed and put her head in her hands. "Yea, whatever. I wasn't important enough for you to risk your reputation on. I understand. I meant nothing to you."
She hated herself for this manipulation, but she wanted to hear him say it. She needed to hear him say it.
"Bullshit. After you - Hermione. Granger. You gave me up for Potter. Potter. Fucking Scarhead Potter. And then I gave you up to save your life and his and you're going to tell me that I'm the one that doesn't care about you? You're insufferable."
Her mouth dropped open slightly. She closed it again. She couldn't really argue with what he was saying. She laid her head down on her hands, burying her face in the shadows of her folded arms. "I'm sorry."
Draco pulled her shoulders towards him, forcing her to pull away from the table. He tilted her face up towards his. "Hermione. It's okay now. Everything is going to be okay now."
She frowned. "How?"
Draco bit his lip. This was going to be impossible. Hermione wouldn't even date him because she didn't want to betray Harry. So how, exactly, was he going to convince her to go have a visit with Voldemort?
"I.. erm.." Draco sighed and scratched his head.
"Why have you been treating me so abominably lately? How is that fair? How is everything going to be okay now?"
Draco's face turned a little pink. "Merlin."
He took a deep breath and plunged into explanation, focusing his gaze on the table. "I… You see, I wanted to protect you. Voldemort…" He lowered his voice before he continued. "The Dark Lord… He wanted you dead. He wanted my father to kill you."
Hermione gasped. "But why? Why even take notice of me?"
Draco didn't answer for a while. Hermione was beginning to wonder if she should ask him again when he finally spoke, in a very low voice.
"You were the only thing saving Harry from total uselessness. Whenever you were there, he'd be okay. So he wanted to make sure you wouldn't be there anymore."
Hermione allowed the words to sink in, let the connections form in her brain and finally allowed herself to put two and two together.
"Why did you make the curse work that way? Why put me in that kind of position?"
Draco grimaced and by the tightness in his lips, she could tell that he didn't want to answer her. Very softly, very reluctantly, he answered her.
"It had nothing to do with the curse, Hermione. Potter surprised us all, and bested the Dark Lord once again with his overgrown heart."
Suddenly, Hermione was very uncomfortable. She wanted nothing more than to melt into the floorboards and escape this awkward situation.
She coughed and attempted to force the blush from her face. Finally she looked up at Draco, the need to spill her guts to him suddenly overwhelming her.
"You know… I wanted revenge on you for the way you treated me."
Draco nodded, as if he had expected as much.
"Only… I wasn't entirely sure how to go about it. So… erm… Last night…"
Draco intensified his gaze, expectantly. She noticed some dread clouding his eyes.
She swallowed and continued. "Last night I decided that I was going to… Well… become a Death Eater. "
Draco continued staring at her, apparently at a loss for words. This made Hermione feel extremely stupid, and in her embarrassment, she rushed ahead.
"Of course, this was very late at night and once I had time to think about it today, when I was down here, I realized how idiotic and impossible that would be, and how little it would benefit me, and I suppose everyone comes up with stupid ideas sometimes, so I guess I'm just glad I didn't act on -"
Draco grabbed her arm, shocking her into silence. "Hermione. What did you just say?"
When she didn't respond, he lowered his voice. "You were considering becoming a Death Eater?"
She opened her mouth and by the glint in her eye and the flush in her cheeks, he knew another explanation was soon to spew forth. He placed a finger over her lips, shushing her.
"Yes. Hermione. I'm supposed to take you to Voldemort. If you go willingly, I'll take you. If not…"
Draco dropped his gaze and drew his arms away from her, running his hands through his hair. "Well, let's just say I've lived a good life and I'm willing to go out with a bang."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please. No melodrama. Like you'd honestly sacrifice your entire life so that they could capture me anyway. You'd never do something so stupid."
Draco was staring at her, an odd smile playing upon his lips.
"What?"
He grinned and she felt warmth rush through her at the very action. She had forgotten what his smiles did to her.
"Hermione, my dear… It seems as though you've not an ounce of Gryffindor stupidity left in you. As a matter of fact… I'd even hazard a wager that you're at least partially a Slytherin at heart."
She twisted her lips in a show of disgust and tutted at him as if he had insulted her, but Hermione felt a strange rush of pride at his words.
***
Hermione swallowed and smoothed out her hair once again. Draco laughed softly. She shot him the nastiest look possible, although it did little good. The shadows of Hogsmeade obscured their faces fairly well from each other's view.
"Are you done primping? I'm sure the Dark Lord will be oh so flattered at your apparent interest in him."
She scowled and stepped towards him, grasping his cloak. She didn't miss the slight gasp he had tried to hide.
"Portkey, Malfoy."
He grimaced and nodded to the empty butterbeer bottle at his feet. Just as she reached for it, however, he caught her arm.
"Hermione…"
"What?"
"I don't feel very good about this."
She looked up, and found his eyes, a reflection of the moonlight. They were pools of icy intensity, and right now they were filled with concern.
"Draco. It's okay. We have to do this."
He sighed. "Have you been practicing your wandless magic?"
She nodded and tried to ignore the twisting in her stomach that was vehemently denying her statement. Sure, she'd practiced. She'd practiced all sorts of spells. None of these spells would be the slightest bit of help against Voldemort, though, and she knew it. What would she do, shine her fingertips at him? Cheer him up?
Not bloody likely.
Resolutely, she bent to retrieve the portkey and lifted it to Draco's waiting hand. A few seconds passed before she felt the familiar, dizzying tug at her navel. Neither Draco nor Hermione was able to remain standing, and Hermione found herself lying on top of Draco in what appeared to be Voldemort's study.
She pushed herself off of him quickly and scrambled to her feet, searching for the Dark Lord. She noticed a chair in the corner, cloaked in shadows, but with a large, rather royal looking snake at its feet. Quickly, she touched down on one knee, facing the chair, and awaited instruction. She noticed Draco doing the same out of the corner of her eye.
"Very good. Draco, you may go. I will call you when I require your services again."
She noticed him tense and freeze. Before he could object, she moved her foot behind her, kicking his. 'Please, Draco. Oh, please leave.'
She didn't want to imagine what would happen if he disobeyed Voldemort. Draco seemed to follow her line of thought, and very obviously regretting it, he nodded, stood, and Apparated out of the study.
Now she was alone. With Voldemort and a snake. She suddenly felt a wave of respect for Harry wash over her. He had done this… Several times before.
She shook her head. She was here willingly. She was just intimidated.
She felt, rather than heard, the cold laugh emanating from the shadowy chair. "No worry, my dear. It is quite all right to be intimidated. And actually, in your case, it's even acceptable to have warm feelings towards Potter."
She swallowed and wondered if it was generally allowed to ask the Dark Lord questions. Before she could worry this thought further, a door opened to her left.
"Oh, my dear Lucius. I'd like you to meet Miss Hermione Granger. Hermione, you may stand."
Hermione stood very shakily and turned towards Lucius. He had a very strange look in his eye as he leaned forward slightly, bowing.
Voldemort seemed to hiss with delight.
"I see you two have met before. Excellent. Lucius, take Miss Granger to her quarters. Hermione, we will continue this discussion later."
Hermione's mouth opened slightly and before she could stop herself, she found that she was in mid - speech. "What are you-"
She swallowed and bit her lip. "I'm sorry, my Lord. I just did not realize that I would be staying here. I thought that… Well… Perhaps…"
"You thought that you would be initiated? That you would just show up here and I'd make you one of my own? After years of friendship with Potter? And at our very first meeting? Did you really think that it would be that easy? No, my dear. You're not here to be initiated. You're here… Well… We will discuss this some more tomorrow. Goodnight, Miss Granger."
Hermione took a deep breath, bowed and followed Lucius from the room.
***
Ron was not expecting the still-unfamiliar burning in his arm that night. The pain roused him from his sleep.
"Oh, shit."
He was far too exhausted from his practice with Dumbledore earlier that day. He would most certainly not do well to face Voldemort tonight. On the other hand, not showing up would not be any sort of bonus for him later on. He sighed, rolled out of bed and hastily pulled on some robes, grabbing his wand from the nightstand.
He decided a light jog might improve his well-being, and ran all the way to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster was waiting for him there, in his stocking cap, with a cup of tea and one of the largest hunks of medi-chocolate Ron had ever seen.
"Good evening, Mr. Weasley. A pleasure to see you again. Of course, I hadn't expected it to be so soon and under such circumstances, but no matter. It is, of course, still a delight. Have a seat."
Ron took a seat and began choking down the medi-chocolate. The warmth it provided worked wonders on his aching body, but it did little for the extreme burning in his arm.
"You did well today. You're getting much better at dealing with your hatred of Severus."
Ron nodded and swallowed before speaking. "I know that it's wrong, but I'm still not sure why we needed to work on it so much. After all, doesn't Voldemort hate Snape now too?"
Dumbledore nodded and sipped his tea before he spoke. "Ron, if your hatred for Severus Snape overwhelms you to such an extent, you can imagine my concern over what your hatred for Voldemort could do. I should like to think that you like your Potions Master just a tiny bit more than Lord Voldemort."
Ron finished his tea, stuffed the remaining medi-chocolate in his pocket and stood. "Thank you, Headmaster. I'll report as soon as I return."
Dumbledore nodded and watched Ron stroll from his office. There was not a twinkle in his eye or a smile on his lips. Albus Dumbledore suddenly felt as though he was sending an unarmed boy into a war of men.
