CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Changing Tactics
The sky had turned a dark ominous gray since the morning, making a storm seem inevitable. It could rain all it wanted, but Ron had no intentions of going back inside anytime soon. He was sure if he went back now and saw Harry he would have a go at him and would not feel the least bit remorseful if he landed his best mate in the hospital wing. The impending storm suited his mood anyways and he had no desire to listen to the younger students free from O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examinations laughing and carrying on in Gryffindor Tower.
He could hear someone approaching but made no effort to turn around. It obviously wouldn't be Harry and there was only one other person who would dare come after him when he was still bound to be in a state of fury.
He folded his arms squarely over his chest and kept his gaze fixed in the direction of Hagrid's hut, but the closed-off attitude did not deter his follower in the slightest. Instead, she stood patiently beside him, not speaking. They stood like that not talking for some time, and when it became apparent she wasn't going to leave, he rounded his explosive temper on her.
"I'm not going back."
"I know," Hermione said calmly.
"And I won't apologize for what I said either."
"I'm not asking you to."
"Do you have to be so understanding?" He snapped.
"Hoping I'd come down so we could have a row like you and Harry back there, were you?" She shot back hotly.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, some of his temper ebbing away. "I've got no reason to be angry with you, but I was expecting you to tell me off."
"Well, I wasn't… I agree with you actually."
He stared at her incredulously. "You – you do?"
She nodded, and touching his arm affectionately, said, "Harry's spent the better half of seven years trying to push us away for one reason or another – and it's never really worked until now. That's why I think it's time we changed tactics."
"What do you mean?" He asked, not understanding.
"We stop pushing back."
She made it sound like it was as simple as deciding to give up pumpkin juice in the morning – but they both knew it was anything but that. Harry was as much a part of Ron's family as his brothers and Ginny were. Though he had never actually come out and said it the sentiment was there. He was certain it was the same for Hermione as well. Not to mention everything the three of them had been through together. Ron couldn't remember a time when Hermione and Harry had not been part of some significant event in his life.
"It's for his own good," she said, seeing his doubtful expression. "He goes on about wanting to be left alone, that when he finally gets it he'll be miserable and realize being alone isn't the answer to his problems."
It sounded like carefully thought-out Hermione logic, but even being as angry as he still was with Harry, Ron didn't see how letting their best friend sink further into himself until he came to the realization that he needed them was a good thing.
"I wish I'd hit him," said Ron absently, cracking his knuckles. "He gave me reason enough to."
"That would have been exactly the reaction Harry would have been hoping for. So you two could have it out in the library and you both end your friendship without him having to say a word. He's afraid to tell you to stay out of his life, so he tried the next best thing. That's just the way his brain works. It's 'Harry logic'," she added as an afterthought, remembering saying the same thing to Ginny once.
"So we're just supposed to ignore him and hope he comes around, is that your carefully thought out plan?"
"Harry's very proud and can be as stubborn as the both of us when he wants to be – it might take awhile."
There were so many things he didn't like about her plan, and he told her so. "What if you're wrong? What if he decides he's happy never speaking to the both of us again?"
Hermione shrugged and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Then there's nothing we can do," she said, letting the bitter sound of defeat creep into her voice. "I'm as furious with him as you are for the way he's been acting, but we can't keep going on like this – the three of us. Harry has to make a choice. If it's the right one, we'll be there for him like we always have. If it's not…"
There was no need for her to finish. They both knew the stakes. They could end up losing Harry altogether, but the way Ron saw it they already seemed to have lost him.
"Do you want to head back in now?" Hermione's voice broke into his thoughts.
"I s'ppose – "
The rest of the sentence died in his throat as he felt all the air being sucked out of him. The feeling of grim defeat and a coldness unlike anything he had felt in a very long time gripped him. He was still alert enough to see the same thing was happening to Hermione. It was only when she collapsed to her knees beside him, did he see the four cloaked figures gliding towards them at an inhumanly fast pace.
Dementors.
Ron fumbled for his wand, fighting against the crushing feeling of hopelessness that would not let up. He shouted out his Patronus, but little more than bits of silver mist shot out from the end of his wand. He went to shout it again, while trying to keep his mind closed to the onslaught of dark thoughts threatening to rip every happy memory from him, when a skeletal hand seized him from behind. He heard Hermione scream as the hand wrapped itself tighter around his throat.
He made another feeble attempt at a Patronus, but with the scar-tissued hand crushing his windpipe, it was impossible. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, but he would not give up his struggle to break free. He couldn't leave Hermione to deal with the Dementors alone. But he soon found out that lack of oxygen to his brain was making it difficult to accomplish just that. He didn't have the strength left to resist as the hooded face came down to meet his own.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The Dementor about to administer the kiss was shot backwards by an extremely powerful ray of silver light. Ron crumpled to the ground, coughing and wheezing.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Rolling onto his back, Ron made out the face of Remus Lupin through his still hazy vision. He was standing protectively in front of Hermione and himself, continuing to shout his Patronus at the Dementors, who were starting to back off more fully now. Lupin remained yelling out 'Expecto Patronum' until the last Dementor was gliding harmlessly away from them, and beyond the Hogwarts gates. Only when he was sure they were out of sight, did he lower his wand and hurry over to Ron, who was struggling to get to his feet.
Lupin gave Ron a hand, running a concerned eye over him. "Ron, are you all right?" Without waiting for an answer, he began checking him over for visible signs of injuries.
Ron managed a feeble nod. He didn't feel like he was ready to speak so soon after nearly having his throat crushed in. With some difficulty he was able to remain standing without any assistance from his professor. His hand sought out Hermione's and she clutched it tightly. She was as pale as the ghosts that roamed the castle.
"You'll be feeling better in no time," Lupin assured them both. "We'll go straight to Madame Pomfrey."
Though they both refused his help, Lupin stayed close by, just in case. Recovering from a Dementor attack took some time.
Ron wanted to ask if the Dementors were gone for good, or if Lupin had merely used his Patronus to buy them some time to get inside, but having to put one foot in front of the other was a big enough problem for him at that particular moment.
Harry sought out the solitude of Dumbledore's office after Ron's attack on him in the library. He knew he would not find peace if he went back to Gryffindor Tower, especially if Ron and Hermione were there. That led him to the belief that Dumbledore's office was the best choice for solace.
He quickly discovered that it wasn't in the cards for him to get any solitude that day.
At the sound of the large griffin doorknob turning, Ginny looked up from the mound of books surrounding her, and found herself facing up at him.
"I didn't think anyone would be here," he said rather stiffly. He made as if to leave, but Ginny stopped him.
"It's okay. I'll go."
She started closing up her books, when – against his better judgment – he said, "don't worry about. Stay."
She looked as uncertain as he had sounded, but nevertheless stayed where she was. Still not sure where the sudden kindness had come from, Harry took a seat opposite her. He could tell she was trying very hard not to look at him, and busied himself by opening up one of the books on the table and leafing through out. After having read the same sentence over ten times, he forced himself to look up at and said the first thing that popped into his head.
"I didn't know you were practicing to become a medwitch."
She appeared taken aback by his sudden decision to converse with her, and tried covering it up by saying, "it's nothing really. I've just been working with Madame Pomfrey on certain occasions."
She didn't ask how he had known, probably figuring it was Hermione who had told him.
"Have you told your mum and dad?"
"Harry, stop," she said gently but firmly.
Puzzled, he said, "what?"
"This. You can't do this. You can't act like you hate me one minute, and then question me about my choice in careers the next. You can't have it both ways, Harry."
"Sorry if I was just trying to show an interest in something that you obviously care a great deal about."
"But you're not interested," she countered. "You're just feeling guilty because of the last time we spoke."
Harry pushed back from the table. "I don't have anything to feel guilty about. If you can't handle a little honesty…"
He let the unfinished sentence hang in the air, but Ginny caught his meaning clearly.
Standing up and resting her palms on the table, she matched his glare. "Go ahead and keep hiding behind your hero act, Harry, but underneath that is a scared little boy who's afraid everyone is going to abandon him."
At the exact moment she tried to leave, he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look at him.
He didn't know what to say, but he knew what he was feeling. Ginny Weasley had gotten under his skin once again. He didn't know what made him angrier. The fact that she was dead on or that she had the nerve to say such a thing to him.
Eyes locked, concentrating solely on each other, they didn't hear a third person enter the room until their presence was made known.
"Harry."
Hearing Lupin's voice, Harry stopped clutching Ginny's wrist and let his arm fall limply to his side. Their professor was carefully watching the two of them. It was evident he wanted to know what he had walked in on, but there was a sense of urgency about him that prevented him from asking.
"Harry, you better come with me. You too, Ginny."
He tried to keep his tone light, but Harry saw through it. "What's going on?"
"You'll see when we get to the hospital wing."
Harry felt his stomach muscles clench. If Lupin wanted both him and Ginny it could only mean one thing. "Ron? Is he okay?"
"He's going to be fine," Lupin informed them both. "I'll explain on the way."
Harry didn't need any further prodding. Lupin hadn't been very forthcoming with information, but if Ron was in the hospital wing he must have been hurt. Despite his professor's assurances, he wanted to see Ron for himself before deciding whether or not he was all right.
Hermione was the first person Harry saw when he sprinted into the hospital wing. She was sitting on the side of a bed, eyes locked on where the curtains were closed around a bed a few feet down.
Lupin and Ginny came running in behind him shortly after.
"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked breathlessly. Lupin had quickly explained about the Dementor attack. He had been on his way back from the Shrieking Shack after last night's full moon and had seen them.
"I'm fine," she answered a little too quickly.
Harry could see she was far from fine. She was shaking, and there was a pile of uneaten chocolate lying beside her.
He sat on the bed next to her, trying to not alarm her by asking about Ron. He knew better then most the horrors that accompanied being in the presence of a Dementor, but a lot of good that did him when he had no idea what to say to reassure her.
The curtains opened around the bed and Madame Pomfrey stepped out, holding a steaming potion beaker and small container of some blue-coloured cream. Ron jumped off the bed and hurried over to his friends, but not without a scolding from the matron.
"Mr. Weasley, you have suffered sever injuries to your neck – not to mention the after affects of being in the presence of a Dementor. If you can't show a little restraint, I will ask the others to leave."
"All right, Ron?" Harry asked, not bothering to mask his concern.
"Never better," he answered, but he was looking at Hermione when he spoke. "Nothing like a little Dementor party to liven up a boring day." His neck had a pale blue tint to it from the substance Madame Pomfrey had put on it.
Much to her brother's annoyance, Ginny beginning examining his neck, checking for signs of injury.
"Gin, get off," he growled at her. "Madame Pomfrey's poked me enough without you trying to do the same."
Expression sour, Ginny heeded her brother's request.
"Let's get out of here," said Ron, holding out a hand to Hermione, who took it and laced her fingers through his.
Madame Pomfrey immediately objected to this. "Not so fast, Mr. Weasley. You need to – "
"I think a quiet night in their own beds is in order, don't you, Poppy?" Lupin interjected on his students behalf.
"I suppose," she agreed grudgingly. "But I want you to take some chocolate with you, and if either one of you is still feeling ill in the morning come see me immediately."
"Of course they will," Lupin answered for them.
Looking rather disgruntled that Lupin had overruled her authority, the matron stuffed a handful of chocolate into their hands before retreating back to her office.
Harry went to help Ron get Hermione to her feet, but Ron not so subtly pushed him out of the way.
"I just want to help," said Harry.
"Yeah, well, don't. We don't need your help," Ron snarled, linking an arm around Hermione's waist. "You made it quite clear you didn't want ours."
Harry was waiting for Hermione intervene on his behalf like she so often did, but she was silent, letting Ron lead her passed the others and out of the hospital wing.
Watching their retreating backs, Harry was struck by a horrible realization. He was alone. For something he had so desperately sought after on many occasions, he didn't like the feeling of it one bit. Ron's early threat rang in his ears and he knew he had no one to blame but himself.