Reaching Out; Finding Peace
Chapter Two---Revelations
------
Ron had attempted to ignore the rapid speed of his pulse; he'd felt it ever since Hermione had opened her eyes and looked up at him.
The experience was not abnormal; in fact, he'd been overtaken by these reactions to Hermione in the past, and had tried to push them aside.
But now, alone, sitting closely and speaking softly, Ron had the strange feeling that Hermione was trying to hide something from him. Nothing that had to do with what was happening to him, but something else. Something far more important.
Just when he thought she'd open up to him, just when he thought he might learn her secret, he saw it--his worst fear.
He thought he heard someone (most likely himself) scream, and he sat, rooted to the spot in horror.
In that microsecond, he saw Hermione reach over, grasp the spider crawling over his shoulder, and throw it to the floor. In the next microsecond, his saw his Mum and Dad run into the room.
"What the devil?" Ron's father shouted.
Hermione shakily stood up, apparently to step on the spider, and fell back onto the couch...right on top of Ron.
As Ron reached out to grasp Hermione, he barely heard his mother shout the vanishing charm, and there was a brief flash of light. The spider was gone.
Trembling, Ron realized that Hermione practically sitting on him now, her arms around him. She seemed to be shaking, and he could feel her rapid pulse under his palms. It was at that point he discovered his arms were wrapped around her waist.
Swallowing, he began to think. Why is she shaking so much? She's not afraid of spiders. She'd never grab that spider like that if she was afraid; and why is she breathing like that? She's breathing right against my neck.
Purely on reflex, he convinced himself, he tightened his hold on her. Her arms moved to grasp him more fully.
Clearing his throat, he said into her hair, "Thanks for that." His voice creaked, and he felt his face go warm.
"No problem." Her voice trembled unnaturally.
Ron hadn't registered that his parents were looking at them....rather oddly. He let go of Hermione immediately. Hermione apparently realized why, and moved away also.....but not entirely.
Ron's mum put her hands on her hips. "I think it's time for bed, you two. We all need some rest, and tomorrow morning after breakfast I'm going to owl your parents." Ron saw his mother give Hermione a hard look.
Ron felt something sinking inside. He had a bad feeling his mother wouldn't be particularly kind in the letter she was planning to send.
She continued, "Before I do that, I need to know precisely why you ran away from home, Hermione."
Hermione spoke up, "I didn't run away--"
Ron's mum put up her hand. "We'll talk about this in the morning. Hermione, you can stay in Ginny's room, unless you want Percy's old one." Her voice dipped at that, and there was silence.
Hermione stood up, her legs still a bit unsteady, and managed to keep her feet this time. Ron got up, ready to walk upstairs with her, when he was unexpectedly intercepted by his father. He watched as Hermione looked back briefly at him, but she started up the stairs. His mother was at her heels.
"Son..." His father began. Ron looked at the floor. "Yes Dad?"
"Did you scream because of that spider?"
It was the last question he expected his father to ask. His face heated. "Yeah, I guess I did."
His father laughed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Ron began to feel humiliated.
"I'm sorry, son, I didn't mean to laugh. But you do know that was a common garden spider, don't you? Not even an acromantula?"
"Yes, Dad....I just--" Ron felt himself frown.
"It's all right, son. I didn't mean to laugh. I thank you, truly I do."
Ron was surprised. He looked up into his father's eyes. They were twinkling like the old times, before Voldemort had returned. It was nice to see him smiling so genuinely again.
"You thank me?" Ron whispered.
"Yes, I do. These days, there's very little to laugh about anymore." His father put his arm around Ron's shoulders and hugged tightly. "It's a sign of good character when a body can still be frightened by the littlest things. It reminds a man he still has good reflexes."
Ron began to smile. His father tended to be a man of few words, but these he knew he'd treasure for a long time. He laughed. His father smiled.
"Of to bed with you."
Ron nodded, and headed up the stairs. He could see a glow above, where his mother was apparently standing with a candle, helping Hermione bed down. Ron wished he could talk to Hermione before tomorrow, but he knew he probably wouldn't.
He was, however, hoping the excitement would make him tired enough to get some sleep.
Opening the door to his room and slipping quietly inside, he felt the cold and knew his mother had cast another cooling charm. Silently thanking her, he slipped into bed and pulled the quilts tight about him.
Closing his eyes, he listened to his breathing for several moments before falling into a deep sleep.
-----
Ron opened his eyes abruptly, and saw the faint glow of dawn peaking at the edge of his window. Rolling over, he closed his eyes, convincing himself he could get a couple more hours of sleep.
And then it began....
The voices, the thoughts, all warring in his mind.
...Did I leave the telly on?...
...I'll need to go to the dentist...
...Will he call me, or should I call him?...
...Two diet sodas, please...
...I only have 20 pounds left, blasted electricity bill...
...Low fat, low calorie, low taste...
"Shut up!" Ron screamed, and clenched his temples.
He didn't hear his door open, but he did feel the warmth of someone settling down next to him and pulling him into their arms. Settling himself comfortably against them, he groaned as the voices continued to shatter the tranquility of his mind.
-----
Hermione expected Mrs Weasley to rush in after her; Ron had shouted rather loudly.
Hermione didn't hesitate in sitting on Ron's bed and taking him into her arms. His response was a bit unexpected; he grabbed onto her a bit too tightly.
Hermione had the feeling that he didn't even recognize who he was holding on to.
Second, minutes, and an hour went by, and Hermione continued to hold on. Ron was clutching her as if life depended on it. He held on so long, her left arm began to grow numb.
Daylight streamed in through Ron's window, and Hermione pensively studied it. Ron muttered a soft, strange and disjointed sentence. Hermione frowned, and tentatively tried to shift so she could move her left arm.
At that small movement, Ron sat up abruptly. His eyes fluttered, as if he'd been asleep and dreaming. He reached up and rubbed them. Then, his eyes grew wide when they fell upon her, and he pulled away and slid a few feet backward on the bed.
"Hermione! What are you doing in here?" Ron grasped the edge of his quilt and tried to pull it over him. Hermione was sitting on it, so it wouldn't budge.
She was upset without knowing why. "I came in here because you screamed!" Standing up, intensely irritated by his outburst, she and began to walk toward the door.
"Hermione...." Ron said with a catch in his voice.
She stopped in her tracks. She felt bad all of the sudden. Whatever had happened to Ron, he obviously wasn't aware she'd been holding him for over an hour. Of course he'd be surprised to see her there, sitting on his bed. In fact, she was a bit surprised in it herself.
Turning, she saw Ron clutching the quilt about him, even though the summer heat was creeping into the Burrow. Modesty, she thought. It's the one trait I never thought Ron would exhibit.
She tried to hold back an internal laugh. It was a difficult task.
"What are you grinning about?" Ron said rather loudly.
Hermione put a finger to her lips. "Shhh, people are still sleeping."
Ron grunted, and a huffy silence began to emanate from him. Hermione looked at the floor. What should she do now? She truly didn't want to walk away angry, but if Ron didn't apologize for being such a git, she'd do just that.
After what seemed like a very long time, she heard a soft cough.
"Erm, Hermione...can I talk to you?" Ron asked, so softly she was sure she didn't hear right. But instead of displaying her uncertainty, she shuffled over to the side of the bed.
Standing there for a moment, looking down at him, she realized how much he'd grown. An unexpected thought popped into her head.
He'll make a lucky woman a fine husband someday.
The thought took her breath away, and she shook her head, trying to push it aside. She'd had many silly thoughts like that every now and then over the years, but she always attempted to ignore them. This time, though, she barely succeeded.
Standing a bit more tensely, she almost walked away. That was before Ron spoke again.
"You can sit down, you know."
"Where?" Hermione blurted.
At that moment, they both looked at one another and their eyes met. Hermione's heart nearly burst from her chest when her eyes locked on his; she tried to catch her breath and pretend as if nothing had happened.
As she calmly moved her eyes away from his, she felt Ron motion to the side of the bed. Gingerly scooting onto the corner of Ron's bed, she made sure to avoid eye contact.
Ron let out a weary-sounding groan, and Hermione looked at her hands. After a moment of silence, Ron said, "I'm sorry...about being so...surprised."
Hermione swallowed and glanced Ron's way. His face was very red, and he looked deeply uncomfortable. Hermone turned to him fully. He didn't look up.
"It happened again. This time was so strange. Before, I couldn't really tell what the voices were saying...they were just there, you know? And now...I hear every single word. The spooky part is...they're muggle words. So it must have been a muggle's brain? But how? And why?" Ron appeared to be trembling, and she knew he was deeply upset.
Hermione's heart sank, and her eyes widened. She'd read several books about Dark Arts ever since Voldemort and the Death Eaters had come back into power.
At that moment, something clicked into place in her mind, a thought she always knew was at the edge of her thoughts but never came to fruition. Deciding not to voice her thoughts just yet, she eyed Ron warily.
"Ron, I think we really should inform Dumbledore. At the least, let's write a letter to Harry. Have you heard from him at all this month?"
Ron simply shook his head, a pouty expression on his face. "I sent a letter, and Pig came back with nothing. I don't even want to imagine what his summer has been like so far."
"We can only hope he's doing fine. After all, he should be safe there," Hermione said, letting her mind wander over the small theory forming there.
Without warning, the rather loud voice of Mrs Weasley disrupted Hermione's chain of thought. "Breakfast is ready! Up and at 'em, you lot."
Ron jumped up from the bed, and Hermione briefly wondered where all the modesty he'd shown earlier had gone to. He walked swiftly toward the door, and turned back to give Hermione a week smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Come on, it's breakfast," he said silkily.
Hermione smiled weakly and got to her feet. She felt herself follow Ron as if on auto-pilot, her thoughts too occupied and disturbed to care.
If her suspicions were correct, it was possible the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Mysteries knew more about what the Death Eaters were planning then everyone realized.
------
Ron's mum and dad were unexpectedly silent during breakfast; but Ginny filled up the silence with endless questions to Hermione about how her summer had been. Hermione appeared enthused by his sister's interest, but her answers were short and less than informative. After a few moments, the entire table fell silent.
Cleaning his plate, and briefly wondering if there were any leftovers, he glanced over to see Hermione gazing at him worriedly.
Forgetting his concern over more food, he returned her look. Without warning, he heard his mother clear her throat.
Hermione jumped, startled, and Ron swung his head around to see his mother staring at him.
"Hermione, could we speak with you?" his mother asked.
Ron turned to Hermione; her face was flushed, and she nodded and stood up. Concerned, he watched his mother, father, and Hermione walk into the next room.
Turning to Ginny, he felt his brow raise in confusion. "What's going on?"
Ginny shrugged, looking a bit uneasy. "Before you came downstairs, a letter arrived. From what mum said, Hermione's parents aren't very pleased with what she did this morning."
Ron felt a lump form in his throat, hoping she wouldn't be in too much trouble.
It's really my fault, Ron thought. If I hadn't sent that letter...
Ron winced as a sharp pain peirced his skull. Rubbing his head, he just noticed Ginny staring at him oddly from the corner of her eye.
"What are you looking at?" Ron asked; rather rudely, he thought, immediately wishing he hadn't said anything at all.
Ginny gave him a hard look. After a brief moment, she said sharply, "You asked Hermione to come, didn't you?"
Ron pursed his lips and felt his face become hot in irritation. "No, I didn't."
Ginny shook her head. "I think you did. You've been acting really odd ever since summer started; you've been trying to hide it and I've played along. But no more...." she stood up, and Ron noticed she was much taller than he realized. "I think it's time to spill it."
Ron heard himself uttered a small growl, and he stood up as well. "Maybe something's going on, and maybe it isn't." Gesturing wildly with his hands, he said more loudly, "I'm sorry, but whatever is going on with me is unimportant compared to--"
Ron's tirade was abruptly interrupted by the cool swoosh of owl's wings, flying just over Ron's head. He looked up to see a very white owl, now perched on a ceiling rafter, hooting rather animatedly. Recognizing the owl immediately as Hedwig, Ron looked about. He now noticed that Ginny had a rolled parchment in her hands.
"What's that?" Ron blurted.
Ginny reddened perceptively, and shrugged. He noticed her shock, even though she didn't voice it.
Watching interestedly as his sister unrolled the letter, he saw her bodily relax the moment the letter was open. Clearing her throat and eyeing Ron , Ginny whispered, "'Dear Ron and Ginny, I'm sorry I haven't been able to write so far this summer. Dumbledore has been sending me some books to read; they've been keeping me occupied. I've also been approached by members of...'"
Ginny stopped, and looked confused. Finally, she said, "Oh, he left that blank, I guess he means the Order. Okay, and then he wrote, 'They've been asking me to nightly meetings, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't know. I've been sleeping a lot during the day, and staying awake during the night. I can't tell you what a battle it's been...'" Ginny looked up, her eyebrows raised. "He wrote b-a-t-t-l-e in bold....does he mean they've been teaching Harry how to..."
Ron shook his head, and frowned. That would explain why I hadn't heard from Harry all summer, he thought. Shrugging, Ron whispered, "I guess so."
Ginny gave Ron a worried look, and looked back down to read more of Harry's letter. "'I thought I'd send this before going to bed, I hope things are going well. It's possible I may be able to see you sometime next month; I hope so. Please say hi to Hermione for me, if you see her before I do. I wrote her a letter, but I haven't gotten a response.' That's it." Ginny handed the letter to Ron, but Ron didn't have a chance to look at it.
"Ron," he heard his father said behind him.
Turning abruptly, Ron noticed that his father had a very concerned, if not disapproving look on his face. "Yes Dad?"
Ron vaguely heard Ginny clucking to Hedwig, and heard the bird fly down behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ginny go to a fetch a peice of parchment and quill from a drawer next to the pantry. Hedwig was perched on her shoulder, and Ginny was chortling as Ron heard his father speaking loudly.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron's father was saying, and Ron cringed. He noticed his mother was now standing behind his father, and Hermione was looking rather flushed beside her.
Ron knew Hermione had told his parents what had been happening to him. After an initial feeling of anger and disappointment, Ron urged himself to remain calm.
"I didn't want to worry anyone," Ron looked at his feet, feeling the pit in his throat increasing in size.
Ron heard his father walk over to him, and a hand was placed on his shoulder. "I understand why you did it, but we must know everything. We need to know what kinds of thoughts you've experienced...everything. Headmaster Dumbledore--"
Ron's mother cleared her throat loudly, and Ron's father fell silent.
Ron glanced at his mother, and then Hermione. Hermione was giving his mother the same kind of look she got whenever a professor told her she'd got something right, or when she received high marks on an essay.
So Hermione did know some of what was going on, Ron thought. The question was....did she know now, because her parents had told her? Or had she known before that?
Ron felt sick inside, vowing that was the first question he'd ask her when they were alone again.
Chapter Two---Revelations
------
Ron had attempted to ignore the rapid speed of his pulse; he'd felt it ever since Hermione had opened her eyes and looked up at him.
The experience was not abnormal; in fact, he'd been overtaken by these reactions to Hermione in the past, and had tried to push them aside.
But now, alone, sitting closely and speaking softly, Ron had the strange feeling that Hermione was trying to hide something from him. Nothing that had to do with what was happening to him, but something else. Something far more important.
Just when he thought she'd open up to him, just when he thought he might learn her secret, he saw it--his worst fear.
He thought he heard someone (most likely himself) scream, and he sat, rooted to the spot in horror.
In that microsecond, he saw Hermione reach over, grasp the spider crawling over his shoulder, and throw it to the floor. In the next microsecond, his saw his Mum and Dad run into the room.
"What the devil?" Ron's father shouted.
Hermione shakily stood up, apparently to step on the spider, and fell back onto the couch...right on top of Ron.
As Ron reached out to grasp Hermione, he barely heard his mother shout the vanishing charm, and there was a brief flash of light. The spider was gone.
Trembling, Ron realized that Hermione practically sitting on him now, her arms around him. She seemed to be shaking, and he could feel her rapid pulse under his palms. It was at that point he discovered his arms were wrapped around her waist.
Swallowing, he began to think. Why is she shaking so much? She's not afraid of spiders. She'd never grab that spider like that if she was afraid; and why is she breathing like that? She's breathing right against my neck.
Purely on reflex, he convinced himself, he tightened his hold on her. Her arms moved to grasp him more fully.
Clearing his throat, he said into her hair, "Thanks for that." His voice creaked, and he felt his face go warm.
"No problem." Her voice trembled unnaturally.
Ron hadn't registered that his parents were looking at them....rather oddly. He let go of Hermione immediately. Hermione apparently realized why, and moved away also.....but not entirely.
Ron's mum put her hands on her hips. "I think it's time for bed, you two. We all need some rest, and tomorrow morning after breakfast I'm going to owl your parents." Ron saw his mother give Hermione a hard look.
Ron felt something sinking inside. He had a bad feeling his mother wouldn't be particularly kind in the letter she was planning to send.
She continued, "Before I do that, I need to know precisely why you ran away from home, Hermione."
Hermione spoke up, "I didn't run away--"
Ron's mum put up her hand. "We'll talk about this in the morning. Hermione, you can stay in Ginny's room, unless you want Percy's old one." Her voice dipped at that, and there was silence.
Hermione stood up, her legs still a bit unsteady, and managed to keep her feet this time. Ron got up, ready to walk upstairs with her, when he was unexpectedly intercepted by his father. He watched as Hermione looked back briefly at him, but she started up the stairs. His mother was at her heels.
"Son..." His father began. Ron looked at the floor. "Yes Dad?"
"Did you scream because of that spider?"
It was the last question he expected his father to ask. His face heated. "Yeah, I guess I did."
His father laughed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Ron began to feel humiliated.
"I'm sorry, son, I didn't mean to laugh. But you do know that was a common garden spider, don't you? Not even an acromantula?"
"Yes, Dad....I just--" Ron felt himself frown.
"It's all right, son. I didn't mean to laugh. I thank you, truly I do."
Ron was surprised. He looked up into his father's eyes. They were twinkling like the old times, before Voldemort had returned. It was nice to see him smiling so genuinely again.
"You thank me?" Ron whispered.
"Yes, I do. These days, there's very little to laugh about anymore." His father put his arm around Ron's shoulders and hugged tightly. "It's a sign of good character when a body can still be frightened by the littlest things. It reminds a man he still has good reflexes."
Ron began to smile. His father tended to be a man of few words, but these he knew he'd treasure for a long time. He laughed. His father smiled.
"Of to bed with you."
Ron nodded, and headed up the stairs. He could see a glow above, where his mother was apparently standing with a candle, helping Hermione bed down. Ron wished he could talk to Hermione before tomorrow, but he knew he probably wouldn't.
He was, however, hoping the excitement would make him tired enough to get some sleep.
Opening the door to his room and slipping quietly inside, he felt the cold and knew his mother had cast another cooling charm. Silently thanking her, he slipped into bed and pulled the quilts tight about him.
Closing his eyes, he listened to his breathing for several moments before falling into a deep sleep.
-----
Ron opened his eyes abruptly, and saw the faint glow of dawn peaking at the edge of his window. Rolling over, he closed his eyes, convincing himself he could get a couple more hours of sleep.
And then it began....
The voices, the thoughts, all warring in his mind.
...Did I leave the telly on?...
...I'll need to go to the dentist...
...Will he call me, or should I call him?...
...Two diet sodas, please...
...I only have 20 pounds left, blasted electricity bill...
...Low fat, low calorie, low taste...
"Shut up!" Ron screamed, and clenched his temples.
He didn't hear his door open, but he did feel the warmth of someone settling down next to him and pulling him into their arms. Settling himself comfortably against them, he groaned as the voices continued to shatter the tranquility of his mind.
-----
Hermione expected Mrs Weasley to rush in after her; Ron had shouted rather loudly.
Hermione didn't hesitate in sitting on Ron's bed and taking him into her arms. His response was a bit unexpected; he grabbed onto her a bit too tightly.
Hermione had the feeling that he didn't even recognize who he was holding on to.
Second, minutes, and an hour went by, and Hermione continued to hold on. Ron was clutching her as if life depended on it. He held on so long, her left arm began to grow numb.
Daylight streamed in through Ron's window, and Hermione pensively studied it. Ron muttered a soft, strange and disjointed sentence. Hermione frowned, and tentatively tried to shift so she could move her left arm.
At that small movement, Ron sat up abruptly. His eyes fluttered, as if he'd been asleep and dreaming. He reached up and rubbed them. Then, his eyes grew wide when they fell upon her, and he pulled away and slid a few feet backward on the bed.
"Hermione! What are you doing in here?" Ron grasped the edge of his quilt and tried to pull it over him. Hermione was sitting on it, so it wouldn't budge.
She was upset without knowing why. "I came in here because you screamed!" Standing up, intensely irritated by his outburst, she and began to walk toward the door.
"Hermione...." Ron said with a catch in his voice.
She stopped in her tracks. She felt bad all of the sudden. Whatever had happened to Ron, he obviously wasn't aware she'd been holding him for over an hour. Of course he'd be surprised to see her there, sitting on his bed. In fact, she was a bit surprised in it herself.
Turning, she saw Ron clutching the quilt about him, even though the summer heat was creeping into the Burrow. Modesty, she thought. It's the one trait I never thought Ron would exhibit.
She tried to hold back an internal laugh. It was a difficult task.
"What are you grinning about?" Ron said rather loudly.
Hermione put a finger to her lips. "Shhh, people are still sleeping."
Ron grunted, and a huffy silence began to emanate from him. Hermione looked at the floor. What should she do now? She truly didn't want to walk away angry, but if Ron didn't apologize for being such a git, she'd do just that.
After what seemed like a very long time, she heard a soft cough.
"Erm, Hermione...can I talk to you?" Ron asked, so softly she was sure she didn't hear right. But instead of displaying her uncertainty, she shuffled over to the side of the bed.
Standing there for a moment, looking down at him, she realized how much he'd grown. An unexpected thought popped into her head.
He'll make a lucky woman a fine husband someday.
The thought took her breath away, and she shook her head, trying to push it aside. She'd had many silly thoughts like that every now and then over the years, but she always attempted to ignore them. This time, though, she barely succeeded.
Standing a bit more tensely, she almost walked away. That was before Ron spoke again.
"You can sit down, you know."
"Where?" Hermione blurted.
At that moment, they both looked at one another and their eyes met. Hermione's heart nearly burst from her chest when her eyes locked on his; she tried to catch her breath and pretend as if nothing had happened.
As she calmly moved her eyes away from his, she felt Ron motion to the side of the bed. Gingerly scooting onto the corner of Ron's bed, she made sure to avoid eye contact.
Ron let out a weary-sounding groan, and Hermione looked at her hands. After a moment of silence, Ron said, "I'm sorry...about being so...surprised."
Hermione swallowed and glanced Ron's way. His face was very red, and he looked deeply uncomfortable. Hermone turned to him fully. He didn't look up.
"It happened again. This time was so strange. Before, I couldn't really tell what the voices were saying...they were just there, you know? And now...I hear every single word. The spooky part is...they're muggle words. So it must have been a muggle's brain? But how? And why?" Ron appeared to be trembling, and she knew he was deeply upset.
Hermione's heart sank, and her eyes widened. She'd read several books about Dark Arts ever since Voldemort and the Death Eaters had come back into power.
At that moment, something clicked into place in her mind, a thought she always knew was at the edge of her thoughts but never came to fruition. Deciding not to voice her thoughts just yet, she eyed Ron warily.
"Ron, I think we really should inform Dumbledore. At the least, let's write a letter to Harry. Have you heard from him at all this month?"
Ron simply shook his head, a pouty expression on his face. "I sent a letter, and Pig came back with nothing. I don't even want to imagine what his summer has been like so far."
"We can only hope he's doing fine. After all, he should be safe there," Hermione said, letting her mind wander over the small theory forming there.
Without warning, the rather loud voice of Mrs Weasley disrupted Hermione's chain of thought. "Breakfast is ready! Up and at 'em, you lot."
Ron jumped up from the bed, and Hermione briefly wondered where all the modesty he'd shown earlier had gone to. He walked swiftly toward the door, and turned back to give Hermione a week smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Come on, it's breakfast," he said silkily.
Hermione smiled weakly and got to her feet. She felt herself follow Ron as if on auto-pilot, her thoughts too occupied and disturbed to care.
If her suspicions were correct, it was possible the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Mysteries knew more about what the Death Eaters were planning then everyone realized.
------
Ron's mum and dad were unexpectedly silent during breakfast; but Ginny filled up the silence with endless questions to Hermione about how her summer had been. Hermione appeared enthused by his sister's interest, but her answers were short and less than informative. After a few moments, the entire table fell silent.
Cleaning his plate, and briefly wondering if there were any leftovers, he glanced over to see Hermione gazing at him worriedly.
Forgetting his concern over more food, he returned her look. Without warning, he heard his mother clear her throat.
Hermione jumped, startled, and Ron swung his head around to see his mother staring at him.
"Hermione, could we speak with you?" his mother asked.
Ron turned to Hermione; her face was flushed, and she nodded and stood up. Concerned, he watched his mother, father, and Hermione walk into the next room.
Turning to Ginny, he felt his brow raise in confusion. "What's going on?"
Ginny shrugged, looking a bit uneasy. "Before you came downstairs, a letter arrived. From what mum said, Hermione's parents aren't very pleased with what she did this morning."
Ron felt a lump form in his throat, hoping she wouldn't be in too much trouble.
It's really my fault, Ron thought. If I hadn't sent that letter...
Ron winced as a sharp pain peirced his skull. Rubbing his head, he just noticed Ginny staring at him oddly from the corner of her eye.
"What are you looking at?" Ron asked; rather rudely, he thought, immediately wishing he hadn't said anything at all.
Ginny gave him a hard look. After a brief moment, she said sharply, "You asked Hermione to come, didn't you?"
Ron pursed his lips and felt his face become hot in irritation. "No, I didn't."
Ginny shook her head. "I think you did. You've been acting really odd ever since summer started; you've been trying to hide it and I've played along. But no more...." she stood up, and Ron noticed she was much taller than he realized. "I think it's time to spill it."
Ron heard himself uttered a small growl, and he stood up as well. "Maybe something's going on, and maybe it isn't." Gesturing wildly with his hands, he said more loudly, "I'm sorry, but whatever is going on with me is unimportant compared to--"
Ron's tirade was abruptly interrupted by the cool swoosh of owl's wings, flying just over Ron's head. He looked up to see a very white owl, now perched on a ceiling rafter, hooting rather animatedly. Recognizing the owl immediately as Hedwig, Ron looked about. He now noticed that Ginny had a rolled parchment in her hands.
"What's that?" Ron blurted.
Ginny reddened perceptively, and shrugged. He noticed her shock, even though she didn't voice it.
Watching interestedly as his sister unrolled the letter, he saw her bodily relax the moment the letter was open. Clearing her throat and eyeing Ron , Ginny whispered, "'Dear Ron and Ginny, I'm sorry I haven't been able to write so far this summer. Dumbledore has been sending me some books to read; they've been keeping me occupied. I've also been approached by members of...'"
Ginny stopped, and looked confused. Finally, she said, "Oh, he left that blank, I guess he means the Order. Okay, and then he wrote, 'They've been asking me to nightly meetings, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't know. I've been sleeping a lot during the day, and staying awake during the night. I can't tell you what a battle it's been...'" Ginny looked up, her eyebrows raised. "He wrote b-a-t-t-l-e in bold....does he mean they've been teaching Harry how to..."
Ron shook his head, and frowned. That would explain why I hadn't heard from Harry all summer, he thought. Shrugging, Ron whispered, "I guess so."
Ginny gave Ron a worried look, and looked back down to read more of Harry's letter. "'I thought I'd send this before going to bed, I hope things are going well. It's possible I may be able to see you sometime next month; I hope so. Please say hi to Hermione for me, if you see her before I do. I wrote her a letter, but I haven't gotten a response.' That's it." Ginny handed the letter to Ron, but Ron didn't have a chance to look at it.
"Ron," he heard his father said behind him.
Turning abruptly, Ron noticed that his father had a very concerned, if not disapproving look on his face. "Yes Dad?"
Ron vaguely heard Ginny clucking to Hedwig, and heard the bird fly down behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ginny go to a fetch a peice of parchment and quill from a drawer next to the pantry. Hedwig was perched on her shoulder, and Ginny was chortling as Ron heard his father speaking loudly.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron's father was saying, and Ron cringed. He noticed his mother was now standing behind his father, and Hermione was looking rather flushed beside her.
Ron knew Hermione had told his parents what had been happening to him. After an initial feeling of anger and disappointment, Ron urged himself to remain calm.
"I didn't want to worry anyone," Ron looked at his feet, feeling the pit in his throat increasing in size.
Ron heard his father walk over to him, and a hand was placed on his shoulder. "I understand why you did it, but we must know everything. We need to know what kinds of thoughts you've experienced...everything. Headmaster Dumbledore--"
Ron's mother cleared her throat loudly, and Ron's father fell silent.
Ron glanced at his mother, and then Hermione. Hermione was giving his mother the same kind of look she got whenever a professor told her she'd got something right, or when she received high marks on an essay.
So Hermione did know some of what was going on, Ron thought. The question was....did she know now, because her parents had told her? Or had she known before that?
Ron felt sick inside, vowing that was the first question he'd ask her when they were alone again.