The trio walked down the hallway together. For a while they stifled smug grins...if a picture is worth a thousand words, the look on Fudge's face was worth millions.

The humor of the situation soon wore off, however, as they recalled the reality of what had just happened, back at the same Quiditch pitch they'd been visiting for six years. Harry knew now that it would never be exactly the same to walk through that arch again, and he hated Malfoy for it. The trio walked the rest of the way in silence, lost in thought.

For some reason, Harry felt awkwardly unable to speak what was on his mind, and he could tell that Ron and Hermione felt the same – they had gone through so many trials and tribulations together, especially during the past few years...

"Especially during the past few months," Harry reflected.

But this...The range of Lord Voldemort's influence was getting closer and closer to home.

They knew they had so much to talk about, so much to say to one another. But to say one word would mean a million had to follow, and to go through all that...It was better this way. To speak the fear would mean acknowledging it was there, and to mourn would only feel frighteningly redundant.

"It's probably a bad sign," Harry told himself numbly, "that we're so used to disaster that we can't even talk about it anymore."

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Nebulus," Ron said dully.

The portrait swung open, and Hermione was nearly knocked off her feet, as Ginny ran forward and threw her arms around her neck. She then moved on to Ron, and then Harry. He felt his head jerk down about two or three inches, as Ginny was quite a bit shorter than he. Her wiry arms were tight around his neck, just like Mrs. Weasley's. He patted her hair lamely while the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, accompanied by what looked like the entire Gryffindor house, pressed in upon them. Already the questions had started...

"Are you alright? Katie just said you'd gotten into a fight..." "Was it really Malfoy?" "Did you go to the hospital wing?" "Hermione, are you hurt?" "Did Malfoy get expelled?" "Are you in trouble?"

Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye, and saw Hermione smiling fixedly...but she was also hunching slightly, as though she could make herself smaller and hide.

"Maybe we should talk about it later," Harry said firmly, "Besides, I'm sure the whole school will know in five minutes."

There was a small chuckle at these words, and the crowd parted to let them pass.

"I'm coming up with you two," Hermione muttered quietly.

Harry nodded. Hermione would want to avoid the rumor mill for as long as possible. She'd didn't need to be interrogated twice in one day.

They walked up the stairs, and stepped into the sixth year boys' dorm, where Neville was already waiting.

"Are you alright?" Neville asked, wringing his hands, "I'm so sorry, Harry, I should have done more to help—"

"It's alright, Neville," Harry said smiling, "You were the one who went for help, after all."

"Harry," Neville said, his eyes round with fear, "Harry, I think he knows. I wasn't sure, but I thought—"

Harry held up a cautionary hand, as Dean and Seamus came through the door, and shut it firmly behind them.

"Ravenous wolves that lot," Dean said disgustedly, "'Oh, are you going to go talk to them? Find out what happened, will you?'"

"Most of them are probably just worried," Harry said, "And everyone here loves a good story."

"Mmm. Plus, they're all ready for a fight to the death with Slytherin. 'Take care of our own,' and all that," Dean added, "Sloper and Kirke vowed to knock Malfoy off his broom next match...whoever's flying next to him had better watch their back..."

"Right," Seamus said, cracking his knuckles, "Now, don' let me talk you into it, but if you need someone to fong him up a bit..."

He stopped himself and gawked in surprise at Hermione sitting with Ron and Harry on the edge of his bed.

"Hang on," he said, "This is the boy's dormitory!"

"Is it really?" Hermione said smiling weakly, "I was wondering what you were all doing here." Harry smiled...she seemed to be getting back to her old self.

"But how come the staircase didn't go all..."

"Girls are allowed up here, just not the other way 'round," Hermione explained, "It's old-fashioned, but there you are. I don't mean to be a bother, I was just hoping I could hide up here for a while. Parvati and Lavender would never leave me alone until I retold the whole thing. And then they'd make a fuss...I'd rather just..."

Harry knew how she felt. There were plenty of things he'd rather forget.

"Well, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Dean said politely, "And you can stay here as long as you want."

"Thanks," Hermione said.

There was a long silence in which Dean and Seamus busied themselves making their beds and throwing their laundry into their trunks, something that rarely occurred otherwise. Ron cast a guilty glance at the books and dirty socks littering the floor under his bed, but decided now was not the time. Neville was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking out the window, his hand in his robes pocket.

Finally, Ron took a deep breath.

"Alright," he said quietly, "Someone's got to say something. Hermione...Are you alright?"

"Of course," Hermione said perfunctorily, staring at her knees. She looked up and saw the concerned disbelief in their faces.

"Well, not really. But I will be. A bit shook up, that's all," she said with a fake little laugh.

"Hermione," Harry said seriously, "This was my fault."

"Harry! We can't keep blaming ourselves—"

But he plowed on. It was killing him, but he had to get through it.

"Look, even if it's not my fault directly, it's because of me. And...I'll understand if you want to keep clear of me for a while. I'll...I'll even understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore," he finished in a rush. He had to tell them.

"Do you think that little of me?" Hermione said, "I'm not about to—"

"Please take this seriously, Hermione," Harry said, a lump rising in his throat, "And that goes for you too, Ron, and you three, for that matter," he said, addressing the Gryffindor boys, "It's obvious by now that being my friend comes with a risk factor."

The air in the room had gotten very heavy. Harry laughed weakly, "So, err...I wouldn't blame you if...It'd just be for a little while...that, or..."

The lump had become a rock. He couldn't swallow.

"Stop it," he thought severely, "Don't make this harder for them."

"Or...forever," he said, "Because He won't stop. He can't stop...not until I'm dead."

There was a long pause following this pronouncement, and Harry held his breath. He knew they would ask. He knew he couldn't say something like that and not explain.

"Harry, I dunno," Ron said, "I mean, there does seem to be some connection between you and...You Know Who, but...it doesn't have to be this way...You're forgetting, it's not just you, you've got the whole Order—"

But Hermione stepped on his foot. Dean and Seamus abruptly looked away, and having finished tidying up, began rearranging the things on their nightstands.

"You've got the whole order of it backwards," Hermione covered smoothly, "We should be apologizing to you...for...making you worry."

"You can't give up now," Ron said, "We've always come through before—"

"You don't understand," Harry said, agonized. It was too late. He had to tell them about the prophecy. But if they knew it, they'd be just as tempting to Lord Voldemort as the prophecy itself had been...

"But he's attacking them anyway," Harry thought, "They have a right to know."

"Dean and Seamus are sitting just over there," he argued with himself, "How many people do you intend to take down with you?"

He was jerked out of his reverie as Hermione put a cool hand on top of his.

"Harry?" she asked, with her puzzled, knowing expression, "There's something you're not telling us." Harry knew that when her brow knit like that, she was going to find out eventually...she was going to force it out of him...

"Yeah," Ron said apologetically, "Ever since the Ministry. We didn't want to say anything, but...if you want to tell us something..."

He trailed off and then laughed helplessly.

"How bad could it be, really? Can't get much worse!"

"We ought to go," Neville said, standing abruptly. They all jumped a bit – they'd quite forgotten he'd been sitting there.

"Oh," Hermione said, "No, you don't have to go. This is your room too, we're being rude—"

"It's fine," Dean said, waving her off, "Take your time."

"No really," Harry said, "You can stay—"

"What," Seamus said, winking casually, "You think we've got nothin' better t'do than eavesdrop all day? Ruddy boring, you lot."

"We'll keep them off your backs for a while," Dean said lightly, "See you at dinner."

Neville gave Harry a little nod, and the door clicked softly shut behind them.

"That was awkward," said Ron frankly.

"I feel a bit embarrassed," Hermione said, looking at the closed door.

"Yeah," Harry said, seizing his chance, "I'll go see if I can catch them—"

"No, Harry," Hermione said firmly, "We've known for a while that you're hiding something. At first, we didn't want to push you, because we wanted to give you time..."

"Really," Harry said, feeling panicked, "Been having a nice little chat about me, have you?"

"That's not going to work, Harry," Ron said firmly.

"You can't keep pushing us out. It's not fair, you know." Harry thought the hurt in Hermione's voice might drive him mad. His eyes were stinging.

"We're your best mates—"

"– if you can't tell us, who can you tell?"

"[I]You don't understand![/I]" Harry shouted, and he couldn't hold in the molten tears anymore, "I can't tell you [I]because[/I] you're my best friends! It's because I care about you two more than anyone else in the world!"

A desperate panic was welling up in his chest. "I can't lose you! I can't! I've lost my parents, I've lost Sirius, and if I lose you, I might as well just hand myself over to Voldemort!"

Harry could see Hermione was crying too, and even Ron had grit his jaw, and was staring fixedly at the floor with bright eyes.

"I'd rather never see you again than—" Harry said, barely able to choke out the words, "Because I couldn't live with myself if—"

The faces of all the people he'd killed flashed before his eyes...his parents, that old Muggle from his dream, Cedric, Sirius...all because of him. Tonks tumbling down the stone steps...Ginny lying still in the Chamber of Secrets...limping on a broken ankle in the Ministry... the bubble of blood bursting on Ron's lower lip... Hermione petrified in the hospital wing...surrounded by Dementors, unconscious...screaming for help under the bleachers...lying as though dead in the blue torch room at the Ministry...the Weasley house blazing into the night sky...His knees hit the floorboards with a dull thunk.

"I wish I'd never come to Hogwarts!" he howled, breath ragged in his chest, "I wish I'd never opened that bloody letter! I should have stayed at the Dursleys my whole life! I'd never have m-met you...but...at l-least you'd be safe—"

But he couldn't speak anymore. Hermione came down to the floor and pulled him into her grasp. He could feel her tears dripping down his collar. Ron crouched down and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I c-can't!" he cried over and over, "I c-can't lose you two!"

"Harry," said Hermione, hiccupping, "We're all afraid! But we've got to stick together!"

"But I can't protect you!" Harry said, gasping for air, as he mopped his face. His nose was running, and he knew he looked a mess. "I tried, I tried so hard to protect everyone, but I can't – He just keeps finding a way—!"

"Come on, mate," Ron said in a strangled voice, "It's alright..."

"Harry," Hermione said, wiping her face, "I know it seems like it sometimes, but it's not up to you to save the world!"

Harry hung his head.

"It is," he said quietly.

"No, Harry, listen—"

"It is up to me, Hermione. That's what I haven't told you."

He took a deep shuddering breath.

"There's a prophecy...The prophecy that He was after that night in the Ministry. And...I'm named in it. That's why it had both of our names on it. Mine and His."

Hermione was looking at him wide-eyed and white-faced.

"You mean that yellow orb thing?" Ron asked, and he nearly laughed in relief, "Harry, we smashed it – that one, and a hundred others. Look, if you're worried about that—"

"You don't know what it said," Harry said.

"None of us do," Hermione said slowly, "The only one who knows what it says now is the one who heard it first..."

"It was Dumbledore," Harry said, "And he told me what it said."

He paused.

"And?" Ron asked.

"If I tell you," Harry said, feeling the same dread rising up inside him...

"Harry," Hermione asked, "How far would you go to save us? What would you be willing to do?"

"Anything!" Harry said desperately, "Anything! If letting myself get killed by Lord Voldemort would keep you safe, I'd have done it a hundred times over..."

"Exactly," Ron said, squeezing his shoulder. He couldn't meet Harry's eye, but looked over his shoulder instead, "Harry...I come from a big family...I've got a little sister I'd die for, and five older brothers...Five."

He stopped, and tried to hold his breath.

"And you makes six, Harry," he said, one tear running down his jaw, "You know I'd follow you anywhere."

The trio sat there snuffling for a minute, and Hermione fished into her robes pocket and took out a dainty lace handkerchief. They all looked at it for a minute, and suddenly, Hermione burst out laughing. Harry couldn't help it...he and Ron started laughing too, gasping and wiping their noses with their hands.

"I th-hink we're going to n-need a bigger one!" Hermione said, gasping for air between her laughter.

"Even M-moaning Myrtle would be s-sick of us!" Ron said, wiping his face.

Harry felt like he would never stop laughing. As long as they were together...as long as this lasted...

"Look," Hermione said, "I think we've had enough for one day. Why don't we clean ourselves up a bit, and go to dinner. You know, make an appearance..."

"Right," Ron said, "Let them see they haven't got to us."

"They haven't?" Harry said, still giggling uncontrollably.

"And late tonight, after everyone's gone, you can tell us everything," Hermione said.

"What, here?" Harry said, "I think the guys might like their room back..."

"No, the Room of Requirement," Hermione said, with fervor in her eye, "The D.A. meets [I]tonight.[/I]"