Hey everybody, thanks for the great reviews! I'll just start replying to them now...
Nora rose – Well, uh... I hope you keep reading.
Belanna30 – Thanks for the review!
Greenpluff – Well, hopefully this chapter will clear some of it up for you.
Emily – thanks!
High Serpent King – Well...
RHFCFSAF – Cool another new reviewer! Thanks!
Esrb99 – Oh my bad...Just a minute, I'll explain this in another section as this pertains to everyone and may clear up some confusion.
First, let's clear up that Hermione is only referring to him as Ghost-Ron because she knows he died, and has reasoned that he therefore can't be alive anymore and this is her fooling herself.
Second, in my infinite stupidity, I inadvertently used the word "ghost" without realizing the implications. At the time, I didn't even think about how in Hogwarts, there were actual ghosts. Just to clear up – Ron/Illusion Ron look completely real from head to toe, is not transparent or white, and doesn't cause an icy feeling when people touch him.
Sorry again.
Anyway, I'll get on with the chapter now. In a final sidenote, to all of you who are worried about this turning into Macbeth or something, then don't worry.
Chapter 31 – Looking at the Clues
Hermione tensed up electrically, immediately. She could feel him, his hands, and his body behind her. What was going on? Surely she wouldn't fool herself this far. She knew she wasn't insane...
She broke out of his arms with a frustrated sigh. She couldn't think straight. Wearily, she leaned against the tree and squatted down onto the floor.
"Oh god..."
His face creased in concern.
"What? Are you all right?"
"I just need to think..."
He went quiet and backed away slightly, waiting for what she was going to say. Hermione, meanwhile, was running over every single possibility in her head.
Okay, so he's not an illusion or ghost, and he seems to act and feel real...What are the other possibilities? Who else could he be?
Wait – Polyjuice Potion!
Hermione looked up straight at him. If he wasn't using Polyjuice Potion and was – somehow him, then she would simply ask him something only he knew. However if he was using Polyjuice Potion would he attack her?
Hermione came to the conclusion that if someone using Polyjuice Potion had snuck their way onto the grounds and decided to kill her they would probably have done it already. So it was safe to ask – him.
"What was my boggart in third year?"
Ron's face creased into a grin.
"Professor McGonagall, telling you that you had failed all your classes."
Hermione leapt up into his arms.
"It is you? Isn't it? But how – you died."
"Yes, but I don't know – I only have a couple clues."
Hermione abruptly became curious.
"What? What clues?"
"I'll tell you when we reach Dumbledore's."
Hermione nodded and started looking for McGonagall with him following her.
Draco Malfoy was still sitting in his locked chamber, isolated from the rest of the world. Loneliness had enveloped him in his prison of sorts, the small room seeming to close in on him despite the daily food brought and the homely feel of the room. Draco hadn't had much sleep despite being able to grab some earlier. Nothing had happened since Dumbledore had seen him. His mind was slightly dulled by boredom, and he felt sluggish and tired. His typically pristine hair was messed up and disheveled, falling over his face.
The door abruptly opened and Dumbledore strode in, closing the door behind him.
"Mr. Malfoy."
Draco sat up immediately, his mind sharpening and suddenly feeling antsy and nervous. What if Dumbledore kept him imprisoned? Or moved him to Azkaban?
"I have decided to take you up on your offer. You won't start immediately, but soon. For now, you will continue your school activities as normal. You may leave."
Dumbledore opened the door and gestured outside. Draco murmured a thanks and started walking eagerly out, abruptly stopping right at the doorway.
"What about..." Draco couldn't find the words. Calling him Potter when on his side just didn't seem...right. However calling him Harry was simply too awkward, and suggested a level of intimacy that betrayed the hatred that he undoubtedly felt for Draco.
Dumbledore bypassed this enigma by intuiting what Draco was apprehensive.
"Harry may not accept your work now, but knows that it is the right thing to do and in time will be...more comfortable about it."
Draco paused.
"Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"
Dumbledore looked up surprised. He stared directly into Draco's eyes.
"I don't know."
Harry nervously brushed his hair aside as he continued his conversation with Parvati, who had a wrap around her arm and two potions that she had to take at mealtimes beside her.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm alright, thanks...how's everyone else?"
Harry gulped.
"Ron...he died."
Parvati's face creased in horror and sadness.
"And I had only begun to know him..."
Harry nodded feebly and looked down. It would hardly help to start crying in front of Parvati. Parvati grasped Harry's hand and then leaned back, falling asleep. It was an effect of the potion. Harry let go of her hand and left quietly, deep in thought.
Only to bump into Malfoy.
Harry ignored him and went past. He couldn't help seeing the somewhat new expression on Malfoy's face though, and suddenly remembered seeing Malfoy's face as Snape fell downwards onto the floor and died.
"Wait!"
Harry stopped but didn't turn around and face him. He didn't speak either...
"Look...I'm sorry."
Harry didn't respond and simply walked away, leaving a somewhat unsurprised but nonetheless crestfallen Malfoy behind.
Remus Lupin accompanied Dumbledore and Harry back up to Dumbledore's office. The air was somewhat thick with tension, although Remus didn't understand why. Clearly though, something happened that wasn't aware of. A grim and upset Harry sat down with set teeth and started petting Fawkes. A worried Dumbledore sat down at his desk and stared into the wood. Harry suddenly spoke, though.
"So you released him, then."
It wasn't so much of a question as a statement.
"Yes."
A pregnant pause filled the room. Dumbledore, somewhat anxious, spoke again.
"Please, don't fight me on this Harry."
Harry gazed at Fawkes with stone-like eyes.
"No..."
Three loud knocks abruptly sounded on the door. McGonagall spoke but she sounded different. She sounded confused and lost.
"Albus? Miss Granger has come and needs to see you immediately."
"Well, bring her in then Minerva."
McGonagall opened the door. Hermione entered, followed by none other than –
Harry sat up and started cursing a blue streak backing against the wall from Ron. The typically unflappable Dumbledore got up, eyes widening with surprise. Lupin stared wildly at Ron as if he was an apparition. Ron strode forward and spoke.
"Professor Dumbledore – I'm...alive."
Fifteen minutes later, Ron had told his story to everybody. Lupin ran his fingers through his hair again, anxious and perplexed.
"So you're saying that you suddenly woke up on the ground in a forest."
"Yes."
"And that you have no idea how you got there, and that you're absolutely sure that you died."
"Yes."
"Well...this doesn't make any sense."
"I've only got a couple clues."
Dumbledore spoke again.
"Please tell us what they are."
"Well first off, there are my eyes."
"Yes?"
"Well...they're...better to see for yourself, I suppose."
Everyone suddenly leaned in to peer intently at Ron's eyes, and saw something none of them were entirely prepared for.
Ron's formerly expressive, shining blue eyes had turned into deep, dark pools of black that seemed haunting but not hollow, full of experiences that none had ever encountered before. They seemed to be constantly unmoving but instead shifting like sands, and you felt like that if you got lost in them you would never be able to find your way out. Finally, and possibly the most eerie effect was that they were barely visible at all – there always seemed to be a shadow over them no matter if light was hitting directly on to them or not.
Everyone backed away slowly, unnerved and steeling themselves for the second extraordinary clue that Ron had spoke of as they had been unprepared for the magnitude of the first.
Dumbledore, of course, was the first to collect himself and spoke to a mirthlessly grinning Ron.
"Certainly...extraordinary. Your second clue, then?"
Ron pulled off the right glove that Harry had assumed had been worn for the cold weather and revealed a glistening, silver hand.
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