There was something about Hermione being naked, Ron thought, that was more than merely sexy. It was in those moments that he saw the real her, the girl without the prim and proper Head Girl demeanor, the one who laughed and smiled softly and said occasionally outrageous things that she would never say to anyone else.
He watched as she stood by his bed, smiling cheekily at him as she slid her knickers down and stepped out of them.
Bloody hell. Naked Hermione. More than sexy.
Her cheeks went a little pink as he ran his eyes up and down.
'You're gorgeous,' Ron said raptly. She flushed prettily and bit her lip. Ron groaned. The biting lip thing drove him crazy.
'Get in here,' he rasped, 'unless you want me to attack you where you stand.'
She giggled and climbed into bed next to him. He pulled her close and kissed her slowly.
'Mmm,' Hermione murmured, as Ron held her against him and ran his fingers up the bare skin of her back. Her lips moved to his neck.
'I love it when you do that,' Ron whispered.
'Do what?' she asked, lifting her head and looking in his eyes.
'Purr like that,' said Ron. 'It's really sexy.'
Hermione blushed. 'I don't purr,' she said primly. 'I just...sigh contentedly.'
Ron rolled his eyes at her. 'Whatever,' he said, kissing the tip of her nose. 'It's sexy.' He kissed her lips, and nuzzled her neck. 'You're sexy...you smell good...' He rolled her over onto her back and tickled her sides a little.
'Ron!' said Hermione, giggling.
'I love that, too,' said Ron, grinning wickedly. 'When I tickle you and you arch your back. Very cool.'
Hermione snorted and smiled. 'You are such a teenage male.'
'Well spotted,' said Ron, running a palm over her breast, pausing there to caress her. 'You're so soft...' he whispered, kissing her. 'Everywhere,' he added, kissing her again. 'Soft and brilliant,' he murmured, still kissing her, moving his hand to her other breast. 'Can't get enough...'
They kissed slowly for a while before Ron lowered his mouth to her throat, her collarbones, his hands sliding over her flesh...
Hermione moaned as Ron's mouth moved lower, following the path of his hands. Things had been tense between them ever since he'd made up his mind to apply to the Auror training program. They'd been back and forth over it, Ron unable to tell Hermione what she wanted to hear, Hermione never fully able to hide her fears for his safety.
But now...it seemed so stupid, this tension, not when things were about to go to hell around them. They had only these precious moments of peace, and Ron didn't intend to waste them.
He waited for a moment as she did a Contraceptive Charm, and then he slid inside the welcoming warmth of her body and knew he was where he belonged, and that she belonged to him. They made love slowly, and Ron marveled that something so familiar could still be so exciting and perfect, that he still had to fight for control over his own body in order to satisfy hers first.
They rolled over and she was above him, her hair like a wild halo. She leaned down and kissed him.
'Ron...' she whispered, moving with him. 'Ron...'
His name...when she murmured it like that, in his ear, as her warmth surrounded him...his boring, ordinary name sounded almost beautiful. She let out a soft moan and he felt her tremble against him, felt the softness of her body as she collapsed over him.
'I love you...' he gasped, as he fell apart inside her; she clutched him to her tightly as he shuddered beneath her.
The silence was punctuated by their ragged breathing as she slowly rolled off him and curled up against him. He took her small hand in his, interlacing their fingers, and for a while, they were quiet, and Ron floated in that half-asleep, half-awake state of post-orgasmic bliss. He was eventually brought out of it when Hermione spoke.
'I'm sorry,' she murmured.
'For what?' he asked, kissing her fingertips.
She lifted herself up onto her elbow. 'I haven't been as supportive as I should be,' she said. 'About...you know, the Auror thing--'
'Hermione, we don't have to talk about this now,' Ron said.
'Just let me finish,' she said, putting a finger to his lips. 'I'm still afraid, Ron. I'll always be afraid. But...I meant what I said before. You'll be a great Auror.'
Ron blushed. 'Maybe,' he mumbled. 'If I get into a program. And even if I do, I'll still have N.E.W.Ts; I could be put on probation--'
'You'll get in,' said Hermione. 'And you'll do fine on the exams. I'm really proud of you.' Her brown eyes filled with tears.
He felt a lump in his throat, and loved her more than he thought possible in that moment.
'Thanks,' he said thickly, and he brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. 'Hermione, I know I can't...' He stopped. No, he couldn't say that out loud.
I can't promise you I won't get hurt or even killed.
It was a lie he couldn't tell, would never be able to tell, and one she wouldn't believe anyway.
Instead he said, 'I'll always fight like hell to get back to you.'
She pressed her lips together for a moment, holding back her tears, but then he pulled her into his embrace and let her cry quietly. He knew they weren't tears of anguish, but of the sad acceptance that this was the way of the world now. That war was around them and it would get worse before it got better. He felt a tear slide out of his right eye and held her more tightly. They clung to each other until they fell asleep.
Ron was flying.
He soared over the trees, with the wind in his hair, and the inky black sky above him was lit with stars and a nearly full moon. He swooped down towards the Quidditch pitch, and then around the goal hoops, his eyes casting towards the Forbidden Forest.
Odd, he thought. Those lights in the distance. Like stars that fell out of the sky...
Indeed, there were faraway lights sparkling through the thick trees, golden glints that reminded Ron of the fairies that Professor Flitwick decorated the Hogwarts Christmas trees with.
Then Ron heard a sound, a distant rumbling sound. A thunderstorm, perhaps? No, that wasn't it. Ron watched the dancing lights in the distance, and was suddenly overcome with the need to go inside. Whatever was out there didn't concern him--how he knew this, he wasn't sure, but what did concern him was in the castle.
He flew hard toward the castle and landed just in front of the main stairs leading inside. Just then Hagrid came barreling down the stairs.
'Ron!' he called. 'Good, yer 'ere. I'm jus' headin' to the Fores', got to help with somethin'.'
'The Forest?' Ron repeated. 'Hagrid, I don't think you should--'
'Don' worry, Ron, it'll be okay!' said Hagrid, looking almost cheerful as he lumbered--surprisingly fast for a man his size--towards the trees.
Ron watched him go for a moment, and felt the apprehension in his chest ease slightly. He didn't pretend to ever fully know what Hagrid was thinking when he got into such moods, but there was something about the half-giant's optimism that set Ron's heart at ease, just a bit.
He turned to go up the stairs, and stopped in his tracks.
Rita Skeeter was standing in front of the doors. Her hair was tangled and blowing about her face; her eyes were vacantly staring past him, but as he cautiously climbed the stairs and came level with her, her eyes suddenly snapped to him and she looked him square in the face.
'It's not what you think,' she said, in a clear voice.
'What do you mean?' Ron asked, but Rita simply closed her eyes and began to mutter to herself. Ron took two steps towards her and she suddenly vanished with a loud CRACK!
That's impossible, Ron thought, she can't Apparate here. Then Ron heard that rumbling in the forest grow closer, and he decided perhaps it was time to go indoors; he flung open the doors to the castle and headed inside...
...and found himself in a cold, damp room with no windows. A single stool was placed in the center of the room, and the Sorting Hat was perched upon it, lying on its side.
Ron started toward the hat, but found that his feet seemed to be stuck to the floor. Why couldn't he move?
He struggled against whatever it was holding his feet fast to the ground; he waved his wand to do an Unsticking Charm, but to no avail. Then he heard a high-pitched hiss and looked up sharply.
A small, robed figure was standing before the hat. Ron strained to see the person's face, but it was covered by a hood and in shadow. The figure stretched out a gloved hand to the hat.
Ron struggled forward, but he couldn't move, and suddenly it wasn't just his feet that weren't working. It was as if he'd been hit with a Leg Locker Curse. There was another hiss and his eyes widened to see a huge snake menacingly circling the small, robed figure.
Ron looked up again and saw a golden light begin to glow about the hat.
'Yes...'
A sharp, high-pitched voice was coming from the far corner of the room. Ron turned to see another robed figure, this one tall and thin; he was mostly in shadow, but his eyes glowed like red slits from beneath his hood. Ron felt his heart begin to pound. He had to stop this...why couldn't he move?
'Take it,' Voldemort hissed, to the robed figure who stood in front of the hat, which was starting to glow brighter. The small person gave a soft whimper and hesitated, but then Voldemort lifted a skeletal hand and clenched his fist. The small person gave a cry of pain that turned into a moan as Voldemort tightened his fingers.
'Take it!' he commanded, and the robed figure reached out his gloved hand again.
'Stop!' Ron cried, but the robed figure didn't hear him. Ron watched as the light surrounding the hat began to take shape, and the gleaming, jeweled handle of Gryffindor's sword suddenly materialized. The robed person closed his gloved fingers around the hilt...
'NO!'
'Ron!'
Ron opened his eyes and panted heavily. He was sitting in his room, and it was, judging by the weak sunlight starting over the horizon, just before dawn.
'Ron,' said Hermione urgently, gripping his arm. 'Are you okay?'
Ron fought to catch his breath before looking at Hermione.
'A dream,' he gasped. 'I had a dream.' And he quickly reached across Hermione to his nightstand for his dream journal and the self-inking quill she'd given him.
'What happened?' she asked.
'Tell you in a minute,' he muttered, as he began to scrawl out as many details as he could. It took all of three minutes. Then, he looked up at Hermione and told her.
'Rita spoke?' said Hermione. 'Maybe that means Hopkirk is going to get through to her, or Mrs. Tonks, or someone else.'
'I hope so,' said Ron. 'I just wish I could figure out what she meant by "It's not what you think."'
'Maybe it's just her trying to tell us that she wasn't working for Voldemort on purpose,' Hermione suggested. Ron considered this for a moment, and figured it was the most logical answer, although a nagging part of his brain reminded him that dreams, especially Seer dreams, were rarely so logical, so obvious. But he let it go as they went over the other, more important part of the dream.
'He had a Gryffindor,' said Hermione, frowning. 'You couldn't see who it was?'
'No,' said Ron. 'Only that it was a little person. I couldn't even tell if the person was male or female. It might have even been a kid, but I doubt it.'
Hermione nodded. 'No, since Rita got caught they don't have an insider working for them anymore,' she agreed. 'It would be a lot easier to grab someone off the street than try and get him or her from here.' She paused. 'What about the thing with Hagrid?'
'No idea,' said Ron. 'Maybe it had something to do with Grawp. I just...in the dream I got this feeling like it wasn't for me to find out, or deal with, or something. I felt like I had to get back inside, so I went.'
They both sat in silence for a long moment, and then Hermione spoke.
'You'll have to tell McGonagall,' she said. 'The Ministry will have to increase security or something. Voldemort can't get his hands on a Gryffindor.'
'Yeah,' said Ron grimly. 'Damn. I'll tell her now; you should get dressed and get back to your room, anyway. I don't fancy McGonagall catching us...you know.'
Hermione smiled. 'McGonagall knows we're sleeping together, Ron,' she said, climbing out of bed and picking up her knickers off the floor. 'She just chooses to look the other way. As long as we're discreet it's not a problem.'
Ron grimaced. 'Hermione, do me a favor, and never, ever talk about our teachers when you're naked, okay?'
Ron kissed Hermione good-bye as she left his room; he watched her bushy hair disappear as she rounded the corner and wished more than ever that they could just flee and hide somewhere and forget about what was happening in the world. But reality would not leave them alone. He groaned inwardly and set about facing the day.
After a near-scalding hot shower, a shave, and throwing on his school things, he went to the Headmistress's office and told McGonagall the pertinent information from his dream; she thanked him profusely for the warning, and informed him she would be contacting the Ministry at once. Ron then sought out Firenze, only to be turned away at the door of the Divination classroom by Professor Trelawney.
'I'm afraid Professor Firenze is...deep in meditation at the moment,' said Trelawney, with no small hint of disdain in her voice. 'But if you'd like my assistance...'
'No, thanks,' said Ron, as politely as he could. 'I'll catch him later.'
By that point, it was breakfast time, and the castle was fully awake. Students were filtering into the Great Hall and Ron realized he was, as usual, very hungry. He went to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Neville, who was looking over his Herbology notes.
'Two weeks to N.E.W.Ts,' he grumbled, his eyes never leaving his notes as he munched on a piece of toast.
'Thanks for the reminder, Neville,' said Ron wearily, reaching for a pot of coffee and pouring himself a healthy measure of it.
'Sorry,' said Neville.
'Don't worry about it,' said Ron. 'It's not like we can stop time; they were bound to happen sooner or later.'
Neville finished his toast, gulped down some pumpkin juice and muttered something about seeing Ron in Defense before hurrying out of the Great Hall. A moment later, Harry and Ginny took seats across from Ron.
Ron looked up to greet them and immediately stopped: they both looked extremely tired, but there was something about their expressions that Ron, to his dismay, recognized at once.
Harry, noticing Ron's gaze, looked up in the middle of pouring himself some coffee.
'What?' he asked in a voice that was too innocent to be innocent, as he set down the coffeepot.
'Great,' Ron muttered.
'What's wrong, Ron?' Ginny asked.
'Ginny, if you have to ask, I'm definitely not telling you,' said Ron, screwing up his face.
Harry pursed his lips; Ginny looked like she was trying not to laugh. They exchanged a look that confirmed what Ron had already strongly suspected, and then the two of them giggled.
Harry actually giggled.
'Oh, god!' Ron groaned, putting his head in his hands.
My sister and my best mate...eugh!
'You're not going to kill me or anything, are you, Ron?' Harry asked. When Ron looked up at him Harry's eyes were twinkling with laughter, but behind that there was genuine concern.
Good, thought Ron. He should be a little intimated. That's my sister, after all.
'No,' said Ron, after a deliberately long pause. Ginny snorted and shook her head, but then she took Harry's hand and smiled at him.
Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione sat down.
'Good morning,' she said briskly, pouring some coffee for herself. 'Harry, Ginny, I was just going to--'
She broke off when she saw the giddy smiles on their faces, and she blushed, but beamed at them.
'Did you...' she asked. Harry and Ginny both blushed, and Hermione gave a little squeak and reached across the table to hug them both.
'That's so wonderful, I'm so happy for you!' she said.
'Hermione,' Harry muttered. 'You're embarrassing us.'
'It's not wonderful,' said Ron, grimacing. 'It's...yuck. I don't want to think about it.'
'Don't listen to him,' said Hermione, sitting back down and smoothing her hair. 'It is wonderful and we're both happy for you. Aren't we, Ron?'
'Thrilled,' said Ron, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice. Hermione elbowed him in the side. 'Ow,' he said grumpily.
Whatever else was to be said about Harry and Ginny's big night was blessedly interrupted by the arrival of the post owls.
Ron and Ginny received notes from their mother informing them that George was even more talkative, and that he started asking for Fred. The news buoyed Ron greatly and for a moment he forgot about his sister and his best mate shagging and gave Ginny a bear hug.
Hermione received a pile of mail.
'They're letters,' she said, 'in response to some of my job applications.'
'Well, go on, open them,' said Ron eagerly.
'There's too many,' said Hermione. 'I'll do it later.' Instead, she opened up her copy of The Daily Prophet.
Ron and Harry, meanwhile, had a smaller pile of letters in their hands. Ron untied the small bundle and looked at the one on top. He gulped. The return address read 'The Ministry of Magic: Auror Training Program.'
'Harry,' Ron choked.
'Yeah,' said Harry, staring at his own letter.
'What?' said Hermione, and Ron showed her. Her face paled slightly, and her jaw tightened.
'Should we...should we do it now?' Harry asked.
Ron stared at the envelope; the back of it was sealed with a wax imprint bearing the Ministry crest.
'Yeah,' he said, nodding hard as if to convince himself. 'I don't think I can go all day with it hanging over my head.'
'Let's do it at the same time, then,' Harry suggested.
'Okay,' said Ron. 'You know you're a cert, though, right?' He broke the seal on the envelope. Harry did the same.
'So are you,' said Harry fervently, lifting the envelope's flap; Ron followed suit.
They stared at each other for a long moment, and it was as if the silence had fallen on the whole Great Hall.
They each yanked their letters out of the envelopes, and at the same time, opened them.
Ron's eyes flew to his letter, his heart hammering somewhere in the region of his stomach.
'Dear Mr. Weasley:
'We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted, pending the results of your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, into the Ministry of Magic's Auror Training Program...'
Ron let out a breath. He felt dizzy. He couldn't seem to read past that first line.
'Ron?' said Harry, looking up from his letter.
Ron looked up; he knew his face was drained of color. He wouldn't have been surprised if his freckles had vanished.
'Did you...' he asked, but he couldn't speak.
Harry hesitated, but then he nodded. 'Yeah,' he said.
Ron let out another breath and a smile suddenly crossed his face. 'Me, too.'
Harry's eyes widened, and suddenly they both let out triumphant whoops, leapt up from the table, and hugged each other across it.
In the next second they seemed to realize that they were two blokes hugging in the middle of the Great Hall, and they broke apart, both of them coughing and looking down at their half-eaten food.
'That's excellent, Ron,' said Harry, running a hand through his hair.
'You, too, mate,' said Ron, clearing his throat. 'Knew you'd get in.'
They looked at each other again, and grinned; both were now red in the face, and they shook hands.
'It's all dependent on our N.E.W.Ts,' said Harry, as they sat down again, ignoring the bewildered looks from the other students.
'Yeah,' said Ron, looking at his letter again, his eyes now able to take in the rest of the information contained in it. 'Says here if we get less than 'A' on anything we'll be wait-listed and required to do work-study for a full term, and take all sorts of equivalency exam for whatever subject we do badly in.'
'Shit,' said Harry. 'We'd better start revising a lot more.'
Hermione gave a little cough and pointedly ate a bit of oatmeal.
Ron grinned at her, but his grin faltered when he saw that she didn't look particularly thrilled at his acceptance into the Auror program.
Shit. Please tell me we're not going to fight about this again, he thought desperately. He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently; she looked up at him and smiled, but her eyes were very sad, and just a bit guilty, and he knew in that moment that a small part of her had wished he wouldn't get into the program at all.
The realization stung, and he let go of her hand, and suddenly the joy at being accepted into the training program didn't seem so joyous.
He looked down at his bacon and eggs and didn't feel hungry anymore. Hermione put a hand on his knee, willing him to look at her, and he did. Her eyes begged him to understand.
I'm sorry, they said. Ron held her gaze for a moment, and nodded. It still hurt, but he realized it was only fair to put himself in her shoes, and consider how hard it had been for her to deal with everything. He took her hand again and gave it a small squeeze, and for the moment, things were cautiously okay with them. He only hoped they could stay okay; he didn't think he could stand rowing with her again, not now when everything seemed to be...
At that moment, Ron remembered his dream; his other letters were forgotten, and he leaned forward. Harry, Ginny and Hermione caught his look, and they leaned in.
Ron told them all about the dream. Hermione then sat up sharply, said, 'Oh!' and quickly opened her copy of The Daily Prophet, her eyes scanning the pages for what Ron knew would be a missing person's report.
'Nothing,' she said. 'It hasn't happened yet. But...look here, there's a notice on page two.'
She showed the paper to Ron; the notice took up a corner of the page and it simply warned all people to be on the lookout for increased Death Eater activity.
'That's not being very specific,' Ron grumbled, thrusting the paper at Harry and Ginny.
'No, it is disappointingly vague,' Hermione agreed.
'Madam Bones doesn't want to start a panic,' said Ginny. 'That must be the reason.'
'Yeah, well, after what I saw, she might want to reconsider,' said Ron darkly. 'If the Ministry doesn't get serious Voldemort will grab someone, and that someone will get the sword. Voldemort will make whoever he gets take the sword.'
'Could a person get the sword if he was being forced to, though?' Harry asked softly. 'You'd think Gryffindor would have put some kind of magic on the sword so that it, I dunno, protects against Imperius or something.'
'I know what I saw, Harry,' said Ron.
'I'm not questioning that,' said Harry firmly. 'I know better. I'm just wondering how Voldemort got around it. Come on, you have to admit, Gryffindor would have accounted for that, wouldn't he?'
'Yeah,' Ron conceded. 'He probably did.'
Hermione sighed. 'If what Ron saw proves anything, it proves without a doubt that Voldemort is back to full strength, or that he will be soon.'
'Looks that way,' said Harry grimly. 'Maybe that's why he had someone else put the Imperius Curse and whatever else on Rita; Voldemort was saving up his strength for a more important job.'
Left unspoken among the four of them was that Voldemort's important job was, of course, to kill Harry.
'We continue to focus on Healing techniques,' Professor Hopkirk said as she glided about the room. 'In today's lesson, I'm going to teach you all a Muggle technique for reviving those who are, for all intents and purposes, clinically dead.'
'CPR,' Hermione muttered to Ron.
'What?' Ron whispered.
'Cardiopulmonary resuscitation,' she whispered back.
'Oh,' said Ron, vaguely remembering this being mentioned in a long-ago Potions lesson.
'I thought a dead person couldn't be revived,' Padma Patil said, raising her hand.
'If hit by the Killing Curse, no,' said Professor Hopkirk. 'But let's say the person is wounded in some other catastrophic way that stops the heart from functioning, or the lungs, or both. That person, if found in time, can be saved. The trick is finding them when there's still enough time. A person whose heart and lungs stop functioning has a roughly four to five minute window in which he or she can be revived. Any longer than that, and the person will die, or, if revived, suffer from brain damage due to the extended lack of oxygen to the brain.'
'Are you talking about CPR?' Michael Corner asked.
'Yes, I am, Mr. Corner,' said Hopkirk. 'Ten points to Ravenclaw. Cardiopulmonary resuscitation is a somewhat crude method used by Muggles to jump-start a stopped heart and return function to the lungs. Mind you, Muggles often use chemicals to assist them as well; chemicals such as adrenaline--a substance already found in our bodies--are often injected directly into the heart to stimulate the heart to beat normally. But there have been numerous cases in the Muggle medical literature involving the use of CPR, and CPR alone, to save lives.
'Why would we even need it, though?' Dean Thomas asked. 'If we have spells and potions and such?'
'There may come a time, Mr. Thomas, when you have no wand or potion to help you, and the poor bastard lying before you hasn't, either,' said Hopkirk coolly. 'CPR is admittedly a last resort, and it has its drawbacks, but it's a vital part of the defensive healing repertoire.' Hopkirk's pale blue eyes swept the room.
'Can anyone list for me the drawbacks of CPR?' she asked. As expected, Hermione's hand shot in the air.
'Miss Granger,' said Hopkirk, smiling her enigmatic smile.
'CPR, as you said, needs to be administered quickly,' said Hermione. 'Although four to five minutes is the outset for brain damage to occur, survival rates with CPR drop sharply if the victim isn't administered CPR within one minute of heart and lung failure. CPR can also cause injury: when chest compressions are performed it isn't uncommon for the person administering CPR to break the ribs of the person he's working on, and in some cases, a broken rib can lead to a punctured lung.'
'That's correct, Miss Granger,' said Hopkirk. 'Obviously a punctured lung isn't exactly ideal when one is trying to restore overall lung function.'
No kidding.
Ron pursed his lips and wondered what it was with Muggle medicine; so much of it seemed to involve cutting things open and causing as much injury as it was trying to heal. As he looked about the room, he saw the worried glances of many other students, who clearly also thought CPR sounded like it was more trouble than it was worth.
Hopkirk, however, was determined, and before long they were paired up and Hopkirk conjured up very funny looking dummies for them to practice on. She showed them how to perform chest compressions, and how to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
'Tilt the head of the dummy back just like this,' she demonstrated. 'Pinch the bridge of the nose, like so. The most important thing is to create an airtight seal with your mouth, and don't blow too hard. Just blow in a nice, steady breath, pause, and blow again.'
Ron winced at the sight of the dummy before him, lying on the floor.
'I have to put my lips on that?' he muttered. 'Yuck.'
All told, it was an unpleasant lesson. Ron wasn't sure which was worse: the chest compressions, which really did look brutal, or having to put his lips over a plastic-tasting, creepy looking dummy. Harry, however, was even more deeply affected by the mouth-to-mouth thing.
'They call it the Kiss of Life,' he said, as he, Ron and Hermione left class. 'But...man, those dummies were creepy. The whole time it felt like...like I was doing a Dementor's Kiss. Yuck.'
Hermione smiled and shook her head. 'Dummies don't have souls, Harry, and you're not an evil scourge, so I don't think you have to worry.'
Harry chuckled and smiled at her; it wasn't often that Hermione was able to say something funny to ease his mood, but Ron always appreciated it when she could. He himself couldn't help but agree with Harry: working with the wide-eyed, unmoving dummies had been disturbing.
'I wonder if Hopkirk has made any progress with Rita,' Hermione said absently, as they headed to the Great Hall for the next meal.
The next two weeks went by faster than Ron had hoped. It was always that way, when exams were imminent.
Ron was accepted into two other Auror programs (pending his exam scores, of course), and rejected by two. Harry was admitted into all of them. Ron wasn't at all fazed by this; deep down, he hadn't truly expected to get in any program at all; he'd managed to get the Ministry program, which was the one he wanted most of all; and it wasn't as if Ron didn't expect Harry to get into every program he'd applied for.
The only downside was Hermione. Things became tense for them again as she struggled to accept what had happened, and the only thing Ron could do was give her space. It didn't help that she was also coping with the pressure of exams; as usual, Hermione became extremely irritable the closer the N.E.W.Ts came. She was so caught up in her emotional turmoil over the exams and Ron's acceptance into the Auror program that she didn't even seem to care that she'd been accepted into every job she'd applied for so far, including a top spot in the Ministry's Healing program, a prestigious post within the Department of Mysteries, and an internship with the head of the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Ron didn't bother asking her which job she would take; he knew she wouldn't make a decision until exams were over. Ron couldn't help but wonder, however, why she was so stressed about exams, given that every job she'd been accepted for was willing to take her even with less than stellar N.E.W.T scores; her academic record over the course of her Hogwarts' career was just that good, that she didn't even really need to worry about N.E.W.Ts. There was no point in telling her this, though.
They wound up having sex more often, however, as a result of Hermione's stress levels. Ron supposed he ought to be somewhat offended that Hermione was using sex as a means of therapy, but it struck him as ridiculous to complain about having too much sex. Perhaps the only thing that really bothered him was that Hermione wouldn't discuss with him his acceptance into the Auror program, but given the circumstances, he knew he had to leave it up to her to broach the subject.
Ron and Hermione were hardly the only couple regularly having sex these days, Ron noticed. Harry and Ginny were, Ron guessed grimly, probably going at it every night since they'd first done it. Ron tried not to think about that too much, but it was difficult not to, given the googly eyes Harry and Ginny made at each other all the time, and the fact that Harry was still giggling like a girl on occasion.
Honestly, I was never that bad when I first started having sex with Hermione!
Neville, too, was spending more and more time with Luna, and Ron definitely didn't want to think about that. Not that he wasn't happy for Neville, of course.
Hell, if anyone deserves to get some, it's Neville.
Seamus and Lavender seemed to have taken over a particular broom closet on the second floor. Twice they'd been caught fooling around, once by Filch and another time by McGonagall. McGonagall herself had once again sealed off the Room of Requirement, which left students to fumbling about in empty classrooms and dark corridors. Ron and Hermione were given the unpleasant task of handing out detentions to 'fraternizing' students.
'No exceptions,' McGonagall had ordered.
'I feel like such a hypocrite,' Hermione confided.
'Me, too,' said Ron. It was particularly uncomfortable when they caught Blaise and Daphne in the greenhouses during one patrol, but the two Slytherins accepted their fate with grace and some bemused shrugging, both stating they were too happy to be back together as a couple to care.
Meanwhile, with Rita was so slow that McGonagall had finally moved her to St. Mungo's, to the Spell Damage ward. Hopkirk had, apparently, been able to lift some of the curses placed on her, and Mrs. Tonks was able to confirm that Rita had indeed been working under hard coercion by the Death Eaters and Voldemort, but Rita was hexed so badly that she seemed unable to talk. Hopkirk had come to the conclusion that she was most likely under the influence of a Fidelius Charm, which was unbreakable except by the person who had cast it.
'So unless Lucius Malfoy decides to drop the charm,' said Hermione, 'chances are we won't get a useful thing out of Rita.'
'At least Mrs. Tonks cleared up Rita's motives,' said Ron. 'She was being forced into it. That must be what she meant when she said what she said in my dream.'
In the meantime, Ron was busy with revising for exams; attending the blood potion testing sessions with Harry, lessons, Head Boy duties and daily meditating.
He'd gone to Firenze later that day after having the dream. Firenze was acting very odd lately, Ron decided, or at least, odder than usual. When Ron related the part of his dream about the strange lights in the Forest, Firenze had closed his eyes and looked resigned about something, but when Ron asked what it all meant, Firenze would only say 'It is written, and what will be will be.' Without another word, the centaur turned with a swish of his tail and clopped into the 'forest' of the Divination classroom. Since then, Ron was disturbed to find that every time he went to see Firenze, the centaur was always, according to Professor Trelawney, 'deep in meditation' and refusing to be disturbed. That Firenze wouldn't give him the time of day told Ron that something was happening; something big was coming.
It'd be nice if I could talk to him about what that is, he thought furiously. What's he on about, not seeing me? Doesn't he know I need his help?
But Ron's frustrations about Firenze didn't compare to his frustrations with meditating. He seemed to have hit a wall, and everything was dark. The only time, indeed, that Ron seemed to be able to See anything was in dreams. During the waking hours, Ron's attempts to meditate either recycled the same images over and over again, or revealed nothing at all. He had no better idea now than two weeks ago where the sword was, or who the mysterious Gryffindor was, or what the lights in the Forest meant, or why Hagrid had run into the Forest.
Ron did manage to ask Hagrid quietly one day whether he was going into the Forest at all, to which Hagrid replied, 'O'course, gotta see Grawpy and Mawg, don' I? They're doin' great by the way. Gettin' along jus' fine.'
The only consolation Ron was offered as far as his futile attempts at meditating went was that so far, no stories in The Daily Prophet had appeared that indicated anyone had been abducted. Warnings were posted daily in the paper, always on page two, reminding people to be extra alert, to keep track of their children, to carry their wands at all times, etc.
'Constant vigilance,' Harry muttered sarcastically, which earned a few chuckles from Ron, Hermione and Ginny.
A week before N.E.W.Ts, however, something happened that brought first alarm, then relief.
Late one night, while the four of them were studying in the otherwise empty common room, Harry suddenly gave a loud wince, and his hand dropped his quill and flew to his scar.
'Harry!' Ginny cried, leaping up from her chair.
Harry groaned and clutched his head in his hands.
'Easy, mate,' said Ron, hurrying to his side as Ginny tried to put her hands on Harry's forehead.
'Don't,' Harry gasped, moving away from Ginny. 'It'll pass...'
And sure enough, the pain in his scar did pass; Harry looked up at them.
'What is it?' Hermione asked.
'Something's happened that's got Voldemort furious,' said Harry. 'That's why I felt it just now. He's really angry.'
The fact that Voldemort had slipped up and allowed his fury to reach such a pitch that Harry felt it was hardly comfortable for Harry, but all four of them agreed that if Voldemort was angry about something, it meant something had happened to thwart his plans, or at least delay them in some way.
'Did you see what he was angry about?' Ginny asked.
'No,' said Harry. 'But there's always The Prophet to tell us tomorrow.'
Indeed, the next morning the headline had them all gawping, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as they read it in Ron's room (they had given up trying to discuss things in the Great Hall; it was just too busy and crowded).
'Wormtail was caught last night,' said Hermione. 'That means he got away from Voldemort, just like Ron predicted. And...get this! He was wandering around Hogsmeade, raving.'
'Hogsmeade?' said Ron, alarmed. 'You don't think...'
'Yes,' said Hermione. 'He was obviously trying to get to the school. The question is why.'
'Raving about what?' Harry wondered, but the article didn't specify.
'Look at this,' said Ginny. 'Says he was taken to St. Mungo's, to the Spell Damage ward.'
'The same place Rita's in,' said Hermione. 'That's odd.'
'Too coincidental to be a coincidence,' said Harry.
'What could they tell each other, though?' said Ron. 'Or Voldemort? They're both in custody. Unless Voldemort now has a spy inside St. Mungo's.'
'Anything's possible,' said Hermione, 'but I doubt it. Voldemort was really angry about Wormtail getting caught.'
'I wonder why,' Harry mused. 'It's not like Wormtail was useful to him for getting the sword.'
'Why let him go at all?' said Ron. 'That's still bugging me. If Wormtail's that useless why not just snuff him and be done with it? And if Voldemort's pissed off about Wormtail getting caught, that can't mean he's being used as a set-up or a distraction, the way Rita possibly could be.'
'Could the Death Eater that let him go have done it behind Voldemort's back?' Ginny suggested.
'No,' said Harry. 'Voldemort knows when his followers are lying to him. You'd have to have a death wish to go behind Voldemort's back.'
'So Voldemort let Wormtail go,' said Ron, 'and made him come to the school. But why? That doesn't make much sense. The school would be on alert to look for him, wouldn't they? What was Voldemort hoping to accomplish?'
Harry was reading over the article again, and frowned. He seemed to be studying the photograph on the front page.
'He's under Imperius, too,' Harry said suddenly, 'and he's fighting it. Look.'
He shoved the paper at Ron and Hermione and they looked at the photo. It showed a struggling Wormtail being lead away by Aurors; Wormtail was alternately yelling and gesticulating, and then going limp and moving his lips as though in a trance.
'That's how Mr. Crouch looked that night in fourth year,' said Harry. 'He'd start talking about Percy getting him tea one minute and then he'd start raving and struggling the next.'
'That's why Voldemort is angry, then,' said Hermione.
'I dunno,' said Harry. 'I only felt that little flash of anger. What if that Death Eater did go behind his back, and he found out that the Death Eater had let Wormtail go? Maybe that's what's got Voldemort angry. I just can't see him letting Wormtail go, not with everything Wormtail's done by now; he'd either kill him or keep him close by.'
Ron sighed. 'This whole situation is getting really weird. And it doesn't help that I can't meditate worth shit these days.'
'You haven't had any new dreams?' Ginny asked.
'Just the one about those lights in the Forest, and Rita and Hagrid and the sword,' said Ron. 'I get why I'm having the dream about the sword--it's like I'm supposed to track it down, you know? My subconscious is telling me I'm involved with that. But why the stuff about the Forest and Rita? That's what's odd. I know that has nothing to do with me. It's like I'm not even supposed to be anywhere near the Forest when I see those lights. I'm supposed to be back here.'
They talked a few more minutes, but all too soon, it was time for lessons. By this point, none of the teachers were trying to teach the students anything new: all class time was taken up in revising for N.E.W.Ts, and doing practice quizzes, both written and practical. Snape, still in hospital in the weird coma and showing no sign of waking up anytime soon, was not there to torment them all about how they were certain to fail their Potions exams; both Sprout and Hopkirk, who were sharing the taking of the lessons, were not much better. Sprout was always very strict near exam time, and Hopkirk...was Hopkirk.
The evenings were taken up with D.A. meetings and more studying. The biggest disappointment for Ron was that the Quidditch final had been moved to after the exams. On the one hand, it made perfect sense: the weather would be nicer; exams would be over and the students and teachers could enjoy it more; but most importantly, it would allow ample time to arrange for security. But with only minimal Quidditch practices allowed, under strict security conditions, for the first time in a long time Ron was nervous about how he'd perform in the match. He wasn't a natural talent like Harry; he needed to practice, and to fly regularly, but security conditions made that difficult at best.
Harry, meanwhile, continued to test Hopkirk and Hermione's potion. Hermione had finally come up with a sample of a potion she believed would work for up to twelve hours, but in order to test it, it meant that Harry would need to get ahead on his studying so that he could have a full twelve hours of free time.
'If you take it tonight after supper,' Hermione was saying on a Friday night in late May, 'you'll probably feel too energetic to study, and after it wears off you'll need a lot of sleep.'
'I need a lot of sleep now,' Harry grumbled; he'd been up late every night this week trying to stay ahead of his studies. In commiseration, Ron had joined him, and was now relying on more coffee than usual to get him through each day.
As it turned out, the potion worked, and quite well. The problem was that Harry was so energized by it that Hopkirk insisted he be given an antidote to make it wear off sooner.
'He's got exams and he needs rest,' Hopkirk snapped when Hermione protested. 'The point was to prove that your potion worked, not to exhaust Harry.'
Hermione took the chastising with relatively good grace, perhaps because Harry's scar had been tingling for a week now, and it was the threat of Voldemort invading Harry's mind for a full twelve hours that made Hermione nervous enough not to retort.
The next day, Saturday, was clearly to be taken up with revising. Hermione parked herself in the library just after breakfast and Ron decided to join her for a while. The silence got to him after about an hour, when he announced he was taking a break. Hermione clucked her tongue at him, but smiled when he left her side, kissing her cheek as he went. Ron decided to find Harry--who was ostensibly studying in the common room with Ginny--and see if they could play a quick round of chess. He stopped by his room to fetch his chess set, and then headed for Gryffindor Tower.
Ron came into the common room to find Harry and Ginny in the midst of a disagreement. He started to duck out to give them some privacy, but just then they seemed to resolve things. Harry didn't look particularly pleased about it, but he was nodding and Ginny was being very placatory about something. Ron knew it wasn't really any of his business, but he wasn't comfortable with the expression Ginny had on her face. She seemed deeply troubled about something.
'Er,' Ron said awkwardly, 'what's up?'
'Oh, Ron,' said Ginny. 'Nothing. Nothing's up.'
'Ginny wants to help Malfoy out one more time,' Harry said pointedly. Ginny gave him an angry look.
'Harry,' she hissed.
Ron, however, was alarmed. True, Malfoy had been quiet for a long time yet, and hadn't seemed to be bothering Ginny, but Ron was sure Ginny's obligations to Draco Malfoy were long past.
'Why?' Ron asked, trying to keep his voice calm and even.
'Because it's the only way I can end this whole thing,' said Ginny tiredly.
'End what thing?' said Ron.
'Draco's obsession with her,' said Harry, folding his arms across his chest.
'Draco's depression over Pansy,' Ginny corrected sharply. 'Look, Ron, it's a one-time deal. Harry shouldn't have even bothered you with it--'
'I'm glad he did,' said Ron.
Ginny groaned. 'Can't the both of you trust me to know what I'm doing here?'
'It's not you we don't trust, it's Malfoy,' said Harry.
'Harry, you're going to be standing outside the damn room the whole time,' said Ginny impatiently. 'He's not going to try anything if he knows you're there.'
'I still think Mrs. Tonks should be in on this,' said Harry.
'Wait, wait,' said Ron, alarmed, 'Mrs. Tonks isn't supervising?'
'No,' said Ginny defiantly. 'She's been at St. Mungo's, working on Rita. Look, this is a one time deal. Draco knows it. I'm just trying to give him some closure so he can move on, okay? That's it. If it doesn't work, well, too bad for Draco, but I can't not try.'
Harry pursed his lips. He looked resigned, though unsettled. Ron started to argue, but then he realized the futility of it. There was never any stopping Ginny once she got an idea in her head. Ron shook his head.
Stubborn women. I'm surrounded by stubborn women. And Ginny's a Weasley, which makes her even worse.
'Okay, Gin,' said Ron. 'You'll do what you want. But I want to be there, too.'
'Ron, no,' said Ginny.
'No, yourself,' said Ron. 'You're my sister, I don't trust that prat far as I can throw him, and if he does mess with you I deserve a shot at him just like Harry does.'
Ginny let out a frustrated sigh. 'Men,' she bit out.
'Suck it up, Gin,' said Ron. 'If you're going to do this, you have to accept Harry's going to do his protective boyfriend act and I'm going to do my big brother act.'
'Fine,' she said angrily. 'Fine. God, you two are impossible.'
'Oh yeah, and you're a picnic,' said Ron, smirking. 'When is this supposed to happen?'
'Tonight,' said Harry, looking rather relieved now that Ron would be a part of this. 'Seven o'clock, in the greenhouses.'
'All right, then,' said Ron. 'Harry, you up for some chess?'
'Yeah,' said Harry gratefully.
Ginny watched both of them for a moment, looking torn between being angry and smiling. In the end, she smiled.
'You two drive me mad, you know,' she said. 'I'm going to go study for my own exams. Don't play chess too long or Hermione'll lose her hair.'
'Yes, Mum,' said Ron, chucking Ginny on the chin. She swatted him on the arm, and then turned and gave Harry a slightly lingering kiss before she marched upstairs to her dormitory.
Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. 'Women,' he muttered. 'Why are we attracted to the two most obstinate women on the planet?'
'That's easy,' said Ron, setting up his chess board. 'We're a couple of a horny masochists.'
Harry snorted with laughter, and they settled down to play.
It was that very evening that things went to hell.
The first problem came just before lunchtime, when Harry's scar flared again. It hurt Harry so badly at first the Ron had half a mind to race him to the hospital wing. As usual, Harry refused.
'Voldemort's angry again,' said Harry, 'but I don't know what it could be.'
The mystery was unsolved for another hour, until, during lunchtime, McGonagall pulled Ron and Hermione aside and informed them that, against all odds, Wormtail had escaped St. Mungo's, despite heavy guard, and his whereabouts were again unknown.
'I want both of you to keep this quiet,' she said. 'I'll let the prefects know to keep their eyes open, just in case.'
'I can't believe he got away,' said Ginny, awed, after lunch was over and they sat in Ron's room. 'How'd he manage it? He was only there for a few days.'
'And in his condition,' said Hermione. 'How on earth is he even fit to move, let alone escape under guard?'
'That must be why your scar acted up again, Harry. Voldemort must think Wormtail's dangerous in some way,' said Ron.
'That seems like the most logical explanation,' Harry agreed.
'It can't be too long before he's caught again, though, surely,' said Hermione.
'You don't think he'd come back to Hogsmeade, do you?' said Ginny. 'Where they found him last time?'
'That'd be stupid,' said Ron. 'That's the first place Aurors are going to be looking for him.'
As the day wore on, there was no further news of Wormtail. However, just before dinner, McGonagall again pulled Ron and Hermione aside and said, 'I want you and the other prefects to come to my office at seven. I'm going to go over the new wards with you.'
'Why?' said Ron, alarmed.
McGonagall took a deep breath. 'We have intelligence that suggests there could be an attack on Hogwarts in the near future,' she said. 'I want to make sure the wards are in place, but also make sure that you and the other prefects know how to dismantle them if we need to arrange escape routes. And one more thing. Griselda Hopkirk was at St. Mungo's today, and she broke through the spells controlling Rita Skeeter.'
Hermione gasped and grabbed Ron's arm.
'And?' she whispered.
'Under intense interrogation,' said McGonagall, 'and with numerous fool-proof truth-telling methods in place, we have learned that Ms. Skeeter is not the person who was posing as Gregory Goyle.'
Ron felt his stomach plummet; Hermione's grip on his arm went slack. They were both stunned by this news. If Rita wasn't the imposter, that meant...
'All this time,' Hermione said in a horrified voice, 'the imposter could have been in here.'
'I think at this point we have to assume that to be the case,' said McGonagall grimly. 'Hence tonight's meeting. Don't be late.'
Ron and Hermione nodded at once, and McGonagall told them she would go about informing the prefects. Ron realized vaguely that he had meant to go with Harry to keep him company while Ginny worked with Draco, but that couldn't be helped. Harry wasn't too pleased to hear of Ron's change of plans when he found him and Ginny in the common room, but Ron didn't care. When Harry and Ginny learned of what had happened--they went into the boys' dormitory, which was empty, and sealed it shut so they could have privacy--neither one of them cared that Ron couldn't go with Harry to watch over Ginny and Draco either.
'Wait,' said Harry. 'Ginny, you can't help Draco tonight. For all we know he could be the imposter.'
Ginny, however, took the opposite course. 'No, no, if the imposter is still running around, then I have to do this tonight.'
'Harry's right, Ginny, it's not safe,' said Ron. He glanced over at the Slytherin table and was uncomfortably aware of Draco Malfoy watching them.
'Wait, just listen,' said Ginny. 'I haven't worked with Draco in a while, but I do know he can't lie to me. If he is the imposter, we could catch him!'
'So you're willing to admit he could be?' said Ron.
'Of course I am,' said Ginny. 'It's been ages since we've even spoken. He could have done a lot between then and now without me knowing about it. Especially if he was going about done up as Goyle.'
'No way,' said Harry. 'You're not making yourself bait, Ginny, it's way too dangerous.'
But Ginny would not be deterred. 'How about this?' she said. 'Before we go into the greenhouses, I touch his arm. I'll be able to tell in half a second if he's the imposter. I'll know it. Come on, Harry, you know I'd be able to tell.'
Harry grimaced, but he nodded. 'Yeah, you would,' he admitted grudgingly.
'Okay,' said Ginny. 'If he's not the imposter, I'll blink twice. If he is, I'll nod, and you can Stun him or something, and we'll take him straight to McGonagall.'
'That's not a bad plan,' said Hermione. 'If Draco's been behind all this we could end it tonight, and if not, well...at least we've eliminated him from the running.'
'Leaving a few hundred suspects left,' Ron said. 'I don't know about this.'
'Ron,' said Ginny, 'I'm sitting here wondering if Draco's behind this stuff, and the more I think about it, the more I think it's possible. I mean, look at the timing of all of it. Look at his behavior--he's separated himself completely from the other Slytherins, so who'd suspect him, right?'
'You're the one who said he'd turn away from the Death Eaters because of Pansy!' Harry protested.
'I know that,' said Ginny, 'but maybe I was wrong after all! Maybe the Death Eaters got to him. Maybe Draco really is evil. Look, if he's behind this we could get him tonight.'
'And if he's not?'
'Then we know he's not behind anything, and we keep looking,' said Hermione. 'Look, I'm not one to agree to dangerous schemes too often but...Ginny has a point. Two weeks have gone by since Rita was caught. If the imposter's been in the school this whole time, he could have been messing with the wards again. Even if he didn't see McGonagall put up the new ones, there are always ways to undermine wards if you're a clever enough wizard. Things are getting too serious, Ron. If those wards aren't in tip-top shape...'
Harry and Ron exchanged looks. Ron hated the whole idea, but when he looked at Ginny, he knew she was right. They would have to risk it. Harry's shoulders slumped slightly, and he looked as if he had no choice but to accept.
'Fine,' he said. 'We'll do it.'
'I won't be there,' said Ron worriedly. 'Hermione and I have to see to the whole ward issue.'
'I won't let anything happen to Ginny,' said Harry fiercely, and he grabbed her hand as if to emphasize the point.
'It's going to be fine,' said Ginny. 'I promise.' Ron saw Ginny squeeze Harry's hand and saw Harry's tight face relax a bit.
They went to dinner, all of them in a tense but alert mood. Judging by the expressions on the prefects' faces, McGonagall had told them about tonight's meeting.
It was after dinner, about ten minutes before the prefect meeting and sitting in his room with Hermione, Harry and Ginny, that Ron suddenly remembered something McGonagall had said.
We have intelligence that suggests there could be an attack on Hogwarts in the near future.
Ron swallowed his last bite of roast potatoes with difficulty as the meaning of his dream of the Forest became clear. A sudden, overwhelming need to talk to Firenze hit him in the stomach.
'Gotta go,' he said abruptly.
'Ron, what's up?' said Hermione, her face screwed up in concern. 'We have a meeting in ten minutes!'
'I know, but I just have to do something first,' he said, bending down to peck her on the cheek. 'I'll catch up, don't worry.'
He glanced at Harry and Ginny. 'Be careful,' he muttered. They nodded at him, looking a bit bewildered. Harry winced slightly and put a hand over his scar.
'Harry?' Ron asked.
'The usual,' Harry said dryly, pressing his hand to his scar. 'The usual' meant that it was nothing more than the constant dull prickling that had been bothering him for a week.
'You sure?' said Ron.
'I'm sure,' said Harry. 'Do what you have to do, you don't want to be late for that meeting, and Ginny and I have to get our thing done.'
Ron looked at them both; there was a fierce determination on both their faces that eased his worry a bit. 'Okay,' he said, waving to them and smiling at Hermione as he left the room.
He found himself running to the Divination classroom. Stopping at the closed door, he grimaced.
Great. Ten to one Trelawney answers and starts bugging me about letting her use her Inner Eye to help me.
Ron braced himself for the inevitable, and knocked on the door. For a moment, no one answered, but then the door swung open, and Ron came face to face with Firenze.
Ron let out a sigh of relief.
'Professor,' he said, 'I really have to talk to you. It's urgent.'
'I know what you have seen,' said Firenze, his voice oddly hollow. He made no move to let Ron into the room. 'I have seen it, too. I must go.'
And with that, the centaur clopped past him and into the corridor. Ron was flabbergasted.
'What?' he rasped. 'What do you mean, you have to go?'
'I must consult with the herd,' said Firenze, not turning back to look at Ron. Ron found himself chasing the centaur toward the main doors leading to the grounds.
'The herd?' Ron repeated, appalled. 'You mean the herd that tried to kick your chest in?'
'I must speak with the herd,' Firenze said, more urgently, and he reached the main doors and opened them with a wave of his hand. A soft, warm breeze wafted into the corridor.
'Wait!' Ron cried. 'You can't go. Are you mad? They'll kill you, and I have to tell you something! Will you stop and look at me for a minute?'
'I know what you would tell me, Ronald,' said Firenze, and he did stop and look down at Ron. 'I must warn the herd. They will not have been open to the signs as I have, and they do not have your wisdom to help them.'
Ron gawped at him.
My wisdom? What? Did the universe just turn upside-down? Is he actually saying what I think he's saying?
'They'll kill you,' Ron repeated desperately.
'It is a risk I must take,' said Firenze. 'You will understand in time. Take care, Ronald. The darkness approaches, and you are needed to protect the innocent. That is what your dream meant. That is why you must not go into the Forest. It is not your place now. Only the Forest creatures can protect you now. You must protect the innocent, and protect Harry Potter. The blood of those who love him will save him.'
Ron was breathing hard; he felt dizzy.
What the hell is going on?
'I must go,' said Firenze, and he clopped outside. Ron started to follow but Firenze, without turning around, lifted up a hand. Ron suddenly felt himself bump into an invisible barrier. He was reminded of the barrier in the secret passage on the fourth floor, except that the magic of Firenze's barrier was soft and protective. It was a warning.
'Stay,' Firenze ordered. He lowered his hand, and Ron felt the barrier dissolve, but his feet remained frozen in place as he watched the centaur's palomino body descend the stone stairs. Once Firenze was upon the soft grass, he turned back to Ron.
'Your part in this story is written, Ronald Weasley,' he said enigmatically. 'You will know what to do when the time comes.'
With a swish of the blond tail, Firenze turned and galloped toward the Forest, leaving Ron to stare after him.
'Hey!' a sharp voice called. 'You're not supposed to be out there.'
Ron turned and saw a young Auror silhouetted in the doorway.
'Sorry,' said Ron. 'Er, forgot.' He found his feet and hurried back inside; once there he was able to see that the Auror was James Marchbanks.
'You forgot?' said James.
'Well, it was nice out,' said Ron lamely, and then he remembered the prefect meeting. He made a big show of checking his watch.
'Gotta go,' he said. 'Head Boy meeting and all.'
Marchbanks smirked. 'Okay. But don't go wandering outside.'
'Will do,' said Ron. 'I mean, I won't. See you.'
He walked as fast as he could down the corridor in the direction of McGonagall's office; he was desperate to tell Hermione what Firenze had just said. Half of it didn't make any sense, but the part that did make sense confirmed McGonagall's suspicions, and it meant that preparing escape routes was more pressing an issue than ever.
Ron rounded the corner toward McGonagall's office when he felt a sudden pressing in his bladder.
Great. Perfect timing to need the loo.
He rolled his eyes and went into the boys' loo and relieved himself, and was just washing his hands when it happened.
The vision was so sharp and overwhelming that his knees buckled.
He was in the damp, windowless room again. The stool with the Sorting Hat was there on the stool. The small hooded figure was there as well, holding the hilt in a gloved hand. Voldemort was laughing gleefully. The hooded figure pulled the sword from the hat and held it up; the blade gleamed in the dim light of the room.
Ron turned to Voldemort, who waved his wand at his right hand and conjured up a thick glove over it.
'Bring it to me,' the Dark Lord hissed. Ron whirled round as the small hooded figure turned slowly, the sword in front of him, and walked toward Voldemort.
No...
The figure then handed the sword to Voldemort, with the hilt facing the dark wizard. Voldemort's profiled, shadowed face grinned hideously, put his wand in his robes with his left hand, and then with the ungloved, skeletal left hand, reached inside the hood of the robed person.
'Good girl,' he said.
Girl? He took a girl?
Voldemort then swept back the girl's black hood, to reveal bright red hair and freckles across her profile. There were tears pouring down her cheeks.
'GINNY!'
Ron crashed to the floor and found himself in the boys' loo.
'No,' he gasped. 'No...'
He leapt up and nearly fell down again. He was dizzy. Voldemort was after Ginny. Ron had to warn her.
He held his head and desperately shook off the aftershocks of the vision as he stumbled from the bathroom and raced down the corridor in the direction of the greenhouses. Along the way he passed Hermione.
'Ron!' she cried. 'Where are you--'
But Ron didn't stop.
Ginny. I have to warn Ginny...
Over and over again he saw the scene from the Riddle House last year, the way Voldemort had taunted Ginny, and now...the way his hand had disappeared inside her hood. The sick fuck was touching his sister, making her retrieve the sword...
Only a true Gryffindor can pull the sword from the Hat.
What truer Gryffindor was there than Ginny?
Harry will protect her. He won't let anything happen to her...
Ron bounded outside, ignoring the protests of James Marchbanks, who gave chase, but he was no match for Ron's long legs, and the adrenaline that fed Ron's speed.
In the distance Ron heard more shouting: Hermione had followed him, but she, too, couldn't keep up.
Get to the greenhouses.
The stars winked overhead, but Ron ignored them. The greenhouses were right there...
'Harry!' Ron bellowed, expecting Harry to leap up and hurry towards him. But it didn't happen, and as Ron reached the greenhouses, he saw why.
'NO!' Ron groaned. Harry was lying on the ground, nearly unconscious. He was covered in bruises and cuts and muttering to himself. A few feet away was his wand, lying on the grass, snapped in half.
No, no, no...
'Ginny...' Harry croaked.
Ron didn't stop to help Harry, not yet. Instead he burst into the greenhouses and searched frantically.
'Ginny!' Ron yelled. 'Ginny!'
More coughing, and Ron looked down to see the crumpled form of Draco Malfoy lying on the floor. Draco appeared to be half-conscious, and he, moaned in pain, but his face and body didn't seem to have marks on it.
Ron felt an overwhelming surge of anger and he yanked Malfoy up by the collar.
'You bastard!' he roared. 'Where's my sister? What have you done with her?'
Malfoy's head lolled to the side for a moment, and then his eyes came into focus.
'Was s'posed to meet her here,' he mumbled. 'Didn't hurt her...wouldn't hurt her...'
'Where is she?' Ron yelled, shaking Draco mercilessly.
'Took her,' Draco muttered, finally meeting Ron's eyes; his grey ones were sad and unfocused. 'Someone took her. Looked like me...just like me...'
'You're lying,' Ron growled, and with his free hand he took out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy's throat. Never in his life had Ron been so furious, so ready to hurt someone, to kill...
'Tell me where she is,' Ron hissed, pressing his wand into Draco's throat.
'Weasley!'
Ron turned to see McGonagall standing there, with white-faced, teary-eyed Hermione, James Marchbanks, Hopkirk, the huge form of Hagrid, and a few other Aurors.
'He's done something with Ginny!' Ron insisted. 'We have to interrogate him--'
'It wasn't him,' said a raw, aching voice. Ron blinked and saw Hagrid come forward. He was holding Harry up as Harry struggled to walk.
'Harry...' Ron choked. He let go of Draco, and Draco sank unceremoniously to the dirt floor. McGonagall gave a frustrated snort and motioned to an Auror to fetch the Slytherin, but Ron ignored this and walked over to Harry, who was looking at him with haunted green eyes. He had the shaky, unsteady look of someone who had recently been Enervated. He was clutching his scar, which looked to be paining him very badly.
'What's going on? What happened to Ginny?'
'The imposter,' Harry croaked. 'The imposter took her.'
Ron swallowed, and he felt another rush of fury, this time at Harry. He grabbed at Harry's robes.
'You promised!' Ron bellowed. 'You swore you wouldn't let anything happen to her! Dammit, Harry, she's the one he wants! How could you let this happen?'
'Ron, stop it!' Hermione cried, and she grabbed onto his forearm and tried to wrench him away from Harry. An Auror pushed past them carrying the limp form of Draco Malfoy.
'Ease off, Ron,' said Hagrid, putting a huge, meaty hand on Ron's shoulder and shoving him away as though Ron were a particularly persistent fly. Ron staggered and let go of Harry, but kept his eyes focused on him. Harry gazed at Ron with an expression of pure self-loathing, and suddenly Ron felt sick.
'I'm sorry,' Harry said, his voice breaking. 'It happened so fast. An ambush. They took off on a broom. I should have protected her...I never should have...it's my fault...'
'No, it's not!' Hermione cried shrilly, throwing her arms around Harry's neck. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, but he couldn't stop a few tears from leaking out. Ron felt his heart crack, and he pulled Harry into a one-armed hug.
'I'm sorry,' Ron said over and over again. 'I'm sorry. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. We'll get her back. If it's the last thing we do we'll get her back.'
Harry gave a choked sob and leaned against Hermione, but let Ron hug him. Ron's eyes burned. He was vaguely aware of McGonagall issuing instructions to the Aurors to mount a complete search of the grounds and the surrounding airspace, but some part of him knew it was too late. Twenty minutes was more than enough time to spirit Ginny away on a broom and take her to a place where she could be transported far, far away from Hogwarts.
Ron felt a tear slide down his face as he thought of his sister, alone and in the hands of the most evil sorcerer alive, when a distant movement in the Forest trees caught his eye. He squinted and looked harder, and stepped back from Harry and Hermione.
'We have to get inside,' Ron heard himself say.
'What?' said McGonagall and Hermione together. Others turned to see what Ron was looking at.
'What is that?' said Mary Stebbins, pointing in the direction of the trees.
'Lights,' said James Marchbanks.
Hagrid was now staring at the flickering dots of light in the distance, and his eyes widened.
'I gotta go,' he said distantly, and before anyone could stop him, the half-giant jogged heavily from the greenhouses and began to sprint towards the trees.
'Where's he going?' McGonagall cried. 'Hagrid! What on earth is going on here?'
Ron stared at the lights in the Forest, and remembered his dream. Remembered Firenze's words. Remembered that his sister had been taken.
'We have to get inside, now,' he said more urgently, looking at McGonagall desperately.
Something in her face told Ron that even if she didn't understand why he was saying what he was saying, she nonetheless believed he was right.
'Let's get inside,' she said, motioning to the Aurors. 'We'll take Potter and Malfoy to the hospital wing.'
'I'll take Harry,' said Ron, holding Harry up against him; Harry's legs shook.
'I'm sorry,' Harry mumbled.
'Stop it,' said Ron softly. 'Let's get you inside. We'll figure out what happened.'
Hermione looked up at Ron with tearful eyes, and then went to the other side of Harry and began to walk with him toward the castle. Harry said nothing, but Ron could sense the other boy's anguish. Ron hated himself for blaming Harry, even for a second.
Of all the shitty things for me to do, that's in the top ten. Harry's always blaming himself for everything as it is, and I went and added to it.
Ron's own bitter thoughts were interrupted by another sudden movement in the distance. Like lightning, his hand was inside his robes and he pointed his wand; several Aurors seemed to have noticed, and their wands were out.
'What is it?' Hermione asked.
A figure was stumbling toward them. In the gathering darkness of the night Ron couldn't make out a face, but he noted that the figure was small and moved in a strangely skittish, if clumsy way. His movements were oddly familiar to Ron.
'Don't...hurt me!' the figure called. It was a man's voice, and the voice was even more familiar than the movements.
Harry stiffened next to Ron, and muttered, 'No way.'
'Holy shit,' said Ron, unable to believe what his eyes were seeing, unable to accept that anything more astonishing could possibly happen tonight.
'Don't hurt me...' the man begged, stumbling and landing on all fours. He crawled desperately towards the crowd. The Aurors had their wands trained on him, but didn't fire any spells.
Professor McGonagall was staring at the man like she might faint.
'Dear god...' she whispered.
Peter Pettigrew, also known as Wormtail, lifted his nearly-bald, bleeding head and leveled his eyes with McGonagall.
'Help me...' he begged, shaking violently for a moment before passing out on the grass.
A/N: A VERY long chapter but hopefully worth it. This is where the end begins. I can't promise you anything on updates, but I can promise you cliffies--sorry, it's just going to have to be that way--and plenty of excitement and angst.
Thanks ever so much to lina, and to Buckbeaky as well, two lovely betas who've made this story a lot better for their help.
Next up: A plan for the final showdown takes shape...