NONE OF THESE ARE MINE! Which may or may not be true for the next chapter...wink wink
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A/N - WOW! Thanks for all the super-amazing reviews. I really do apologize that this chapter has taken SO long, but do tell that to my five honors and 2 AP classes. I'd like to take this short space to thank everyone who left such wonderfully encouraging reviews! Sometimes if I don't feel that someone is waiting for my story to continue, i'll drop it for a while. Now to answer some questions.
1. Yes, there will be some Harry/Ginny later on. I happen to be a firm believer in the traditional ships!
2. I was rereading The Book of Morgan Le Fey and suddenly realized that in both stories, Ron is having visions. The infamous LavenderBrown even once said, "Madam Pomfrey said I'd have scars...you know, the ones I can't see?" I am SO sorry if anyone thought I was stealing ideas or something, but this story is SOOOOO different. You can't even imagine how different. Also, i'm pretty sure it's going to finish at the end of their summer. I'll think about writing a continuation of the 6th year at school sometime later.
3. This chapter is a Hermione interlude. I'm pretty sure that there will later be a Harry interlude and a Ginny interlude, spaced out evenly. Just to spice things up a bit.
4. Everyone is saying I've got Ron down right, but I'm still a little iffy about him. Let's just say he's weird because of the battle and the stifling normality of his household. Also, please give me ideas about what the ministry should be doing right now? I obviously have things planned, but suggestions are ALWAYS welcome. And not just about that, about anything.
5. It would really help if someone told me how to make things italic. I'm using Notepad. And, my author's note is really long.
So without further ado:
----------------------------------
Chapter 4 - Hermione Interlude
She opened her eyes and immediately the streaming, cold sunlight practically seared them. Rolling over, Hermione groped for the alarm clock on her bedside table, before she realized that there WAS no alarm clock, it WASN'T ringing, and the bedside table wasn't standing there.
Suddenly her eyes focused. Taking in her surroundings, she realized she was in the Weasley's living room. Her gaze traveled toward the ancient grandfather clock, where she saw that the hand labeled HERMIONE was pointing toward HOME -
"What?" Hermione sat up quickly, then winced in pain and clutched her side. Why was she on the clock?
"Oh, good morning, Hermione dear," said Mrs. Weasley as she shuffled down the stairs in a white terrycloth bathrobe and matching white slippers. "How are you feeling, dearest?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she said, rubbing smooth circles on the sore spot in her side. "It's feeling much better."
Mrs. Weasley stopped. "And you, dear? How are YOU?"
Hermione sighed. "I'm fine...I'm glad my parents are safe. I just wish that I could be up and about and DOING something. About...the war. You know."
Mrs. Weasley sighed, and she seemed to droop within her robe. "I know, dear, it must be hard being underage right now. But that's what we're all doing. Preparing, and...waiting. Would you like some breakfast?"
"Oh, of course," said Hermione, throwing the blanket off and taking in the information that she was wearing Ginny's clothes. Mrs. Weasley seemed to think along the same lines as she added, "If you can, go wake up Ginny and Ron, and ask Ginny for some clothes."
"I can," said Hermione, determined. She gingerly stood and found that the pain in her side had gone back to its usual dull ache, the souvenir of Dolohov's curse. Rompius Nitalis, Hermione thought to herself, wincing once more at the sounds of the words in her head. Though he had been silent, Hermione had later found out which curse exactly her attacker had cast and studied its effects. She knew that the pain in her ribs wouldn't go away for a while.
She took a few tentative steps, and was pleased to find that she could walk perfectly normally. Mrs. Weasley stopped moving ceaselessly around the kitchen in order to watch her progress appraisingly. When satisfied that no harm would come to Hermione, she went back to her cooking.
Taking one step at a time, she finally made it up to Ginny's room and opened the door.
"Ginny? Your mum told me to wake you up," she said in a regular tone.
Ginny's eyes fluttered open. She took one surly look at Hermione, groaned and rolled over.
"I'll just take some clothes, then," Hermione volunteered. She proceeded carefully to Ginny's bureau and opened the drawer she knew to contain Ginny's muggle clothing.
'Tut, tut,' Hermione thought disapprovingly. Ginny's clothes weren't nearly as conservative as her own. Hermione settled for the least-offensive shirts and shorts she could find, slipped out of the nightgown and donned them.
'Now to wake Ron,' she thought to herself as she shut the door to the sounds of Ginny's stirring. 'In these clothes,' she thought mischievously, and then caught herself. People had died last night, and she was thinking about what Ron would say about her rather revealing - well, for HER anyway - outfit.
She reached Ron's bedroom door and studied the carved wooden sign hanging on it which read, RON. Who had carved that sign? She must remember to question Ginny about it. It looked so old, fascinating in a way that only ancient things could be.
'It can't be that ancient,' she suddenly realized. 'Ron IS only sixteen.'
She turned the doorknob and walked into Ron's room, nearly snorting at all of Ron's belongings, the majority of which were strewn on the floor. Ron was lying on his back, his mouth slightly open and arms splayed. Hermione stopped and was struck by how CUTE Ron looked for some reason.
'Enough!' she scolded herself.
"Ron? Ron, your mum wants me to wake you," Hermione began.
Ron rolled onto his side, eyes still closed. "Alright, Ginny, I'm up!" he moaned, and his eyes opened.
And got wider.
"Hermione!" he yelled, completely caught off guard. He sat up instantly and his covers fell down, revealing a very sculpted, though very pale torso.
Hermione stood there dumbly while Ron noticed his lack of shirt, flushing. "What're you - what're you doing here?"
"Your mum told me to wake you," she said matter-of-factly, trying to hide her own steadily increasingly pink cheeks.
"Oh...er...oh! Hermione! Are you all right?"
Hermione put her hands on her hips, then sighed. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking. Now I'd like to talk to you..."
"About what?" said Ron, puzzled. He suddenly realized how ridiculous his hair must look and hastily threw a hand up to flatten it.
"I've been thinking about Voldemort. You can change while I talk," she said, walking over to sit on his bed as he vacated it.
"What about You-Know-Who?" said Ron, pleased to finally be getting the subject out in the open.
"Well, he's been gone for what, 15 years? Do you expect him to just settle for ENGLAND after waiting so long? No, there's something missing," said Hermione thoughtfully. Ron knew she had put a lot of thought into whatever she was about to say and marveled.
"So what are you saying?" he said as he pulled on an extremely old T-Shirt of Charlie's that had a dragon printed on it.
"Well," said Hermione, noting subconsciously how GOOD Ron looked with his hair tousled up that way, "Why did Voldemort gain so much power last time? Why didn't any of the other countries ally themselves with England in order to stamp him out? Something doesn't feel right, so I did some research."
Ron didn't roll his eyes - by now he was interested, not to mention grateful that Hermione wasn't paying all that much attention to his striped boxers...or anything IN them. The hair stood up on the back of his neck at the thought.
"And what I found out," Hermione continued, oblivious to Ron's inner-monologue, "Is that the rest of the world just refused to get involved. They invoked some sort of wizard defense that states that unless the threat crossed into their 'Wizard Sector' - and they have the world divided into about thirty wizard sectors - the rest of the wizarding population can stand by and do nothing."
"Alright, so?" Ron concentrated
"So," said Hermione, with a deep breath. "Fudge and Britain just aren't READY for another war against Voldemort. They simply aren't prepared, lack resources. What we need to do is get other wizards to help us."
"Hermione, you only JUST said that they won't get involved with another sector thing," said Ron.
"Right. But the magical defense - its proper name is Sectori Yanassus, by the way - DID say that they would be forced to enter the war if they were attacked."
"So you're planning to have You-Know-Who attack a bunch of innocent people so that...so that LESS innocent people will die? Hermione, that doesn't make sense."
Hermione looked anxious as she twirled one of her brown curls around her fingers. "I know...but how else are we supposed to win this war?"
Her eyes were shining, and Ron suddenly was regretful for attacking her. "Well it's as good an idea as any. How are you going to get You-Know-Who to attack another Sector?"
"I'd imagine it would involve some sort of trap," said Hermione thoughtfully. "You know, I only figured this all out yesterday, so I thought we'd maybe send a letter to Dumbledore about it."
Ron shook his head. "Owls get intercepted, remember?"
Hermione's face fell. "You're right, of course." She looked around the room as if someone were missing. "We can't even tell HARRY about it."
Ron's face burned. Oh, imagine that, he thought bitterly. Hermione should just tell the bloke how she feels and get it over with.
"Maybe," Hermione mused pensively, once again overlooking Ron's emotional turmoil, "We could campaign to other countries that they have to get involved. It would be like the Second World War. Places like the States could send resources - not necessarily troops, but resources."
"What? Like wizard contraband?" Ron was interested again.
"Oh, of course." Hermione was nodding fervently. "There are many types of wizard weapons that can be manufactured. I have quite a fascinating book on it actually, right in my bedroom - "
She stopped short, catching herself, and Ron could see she was suddenly fighting back tears. Alarmed, he wondered the sudden change of mood, and was about to blame it on what Mum and Ginny always called 'ladies' problems' when he realized that Hermione's house had been attacked. All her belongings were probably demolished - childhood relics, familiar furniture, all gone for no conceivable reason.
Awkwardly, Ron put a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she leaned her head into the crook of his shoulder, her bushy but soft hair brushing against his neck. Hermione sat staring numbly at the floor, tears streaming silently down her rosy cheeks.
"We have to do something about it," she whispered. "Next time I might not walk away with just a scratch and a lost bedroom."
"You're right," Ron said absently, inhaling the scent of her hair. Suddenly his mind unfogged and he began to have confidence in his words. "No, you're right. We can't just sit back and let scared grownups try to defend everyone. We need to help out, somehow."
"But ho-" Hermione's rhetorical question was interrupted when the door flew open and Ginny barreled in.
"Ron, what is-" Ginny stopped short and gaped open-mouthed at her brother and friend on the bed. Too late, Hermione and Ron sprang apart, both blushing furiously. A piece of parchment snapped back and forth in her left hand.
"What's that, Ginny?" said Hermione in a high voice.
Ginny looked from one to the other and decided not to comment, opting instead to continue on her errand. "I've just got this letter from Harry. He says that Dumbledore apparently told him what happened in Hermione's neighborhood, and decided it really wasn't safe for him in an unsuspecting Muggle neighborhood after all. He's still susceptible to regular attacks from Death Eaters."
"What does that mean?" asked Hermione. Ron's anger flared. Oh, now that Harry's the subject, we're so interested? he thought to himself bitterly.
"It means he's going to go stay with Professor Lupin. At Grimmauld Place." Ginny bit her lip.
A moment of silence followed their pronouncement.
"Is he mad?" said Ron, seriously questioning Dumbledore's sanity.
Hermione readily agreed with him. "Whyever would he send Harry to a place where all he'll be able to think about is Sirius?"
Ginny reread a part of the letter. "He also says that since the Order is still holding meetings there, he'll have to come stay with us whenever something's going on. Which will probably be often," Ginny added. Ron could tell that she had wanted to add the word "hopefully" to this last statement. Harry's just getting ALL the girls, isn't he, Ron thought to himself. Wait a minute.
"Hang on," Ron protested. "Why is Harry writing to you, anyway?" he asked suspiciously.
"Oh, please, Ron," said Ginny, waving an irritable hand. "I was in the battle right alongside the three of you, and so were Neville and Luna. We have to stay in touch with each other. Who but us knows better what we're facing now?"
"You're right, Ginny," said Hermione, laying a gentle hand on Ron's arm.
And at that moment, Ron's eyes unfocused.
FLASH.
A heavy mahogany door was flying open in front of him. He strode forward purposefully into what appeared to be an extravagant dining room. His vision was clouded, but Ron could make out the hazy figures of two men and a woman. Now he was raising his arm, clenching a familiar wand in his fingers. The three figures were shrieking and running away, but all Ron could hear was a terrifying buzzing sound in his ears. He opened his mouth and out came an unsettling, unnaturally high cackle of laughter.
"Why hello, Riddles," said Ron Weasley in a voice not his own. "I think I've solved you."
FLASH.
"RON!" Hermione cried desperately, her face swimming above his. "Ron, are you alright? Please tell me you're alright."
How did I get on the floor? Ron wondered briefly. He looked at Hermione and his sister quizzically before sitting up.
"What just happened?" Hermione said, on the verge of hysterics. "Ron, I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice I was touching your wound, and - "
"Shh," Ron said. "I'm trying to remember...three people...RIDDLES! I've got it."
"Ron. Would you mind telling us WHAT IS GOING ON?" said Ginny, hands on her hips. "This is what happened in the garden the other day, isn't it? Was that another vision?"
Hermione turned to him, wide-eyed. "You're having visions? Of what? When?"
"Yesterday, when a gnome bit my gashes," said Ron, a hand on his forehead. "But what with everyone that happened, I never got a chance to tell you."
"What were your visions of?" Hermione prompted.
"Well, yesterday, it was like I was in someone else's body. I walked into a room and there was this woman on the floor, I thought she was Ginny, with the red hair. She had a baby she called Harry...I called her a Mudblood," Ron said, cringing.
"That sounds like Harry's mum," said Hermione quietly.
"We've figured that out already," said Ginny wearily. "Ron's got a brilliant theory on the subject."
"There's only one person that could have done that," said Hermione.
"You-Know-Who," said Ron, pleased with his and Ginny's prior deduction.
"But that sounds as if it were in the past, if Harry was a baby. What did you see just now?"
"I was walking into a room again," said Ron dutifully, "But this time it was a big dining room. There were three people inside, I couldn't see them too well...I started laughing...I called them some kind of riddle, and said I'd...solved them...can't remember..."
"That must be Voldemort killing his father and grandparents," said Hermione, rigid.
"And both times it was when something touched his thought-wounds," Ginny put in.
"Hermione," said Ron. "Do you know if...do you know if it's possible to somehow...I dunno, take out a person's brain and pick it apart, look through their memories to find things out about them?"
"Oh of course," said Hermione. "Ancient Egyptian wizards, when mummifying a body, would actually extract the brain the through the nose and preserve it in order to perform Inspection charms on them. They could figure out if Kings had been just, who had been robbing tombs. Instructions on how to do it were found in the form of runes on one of the pyramids. But what does that have to do with it?"
Ron and Ginny sat, stunned. "You mean, I actually made something up that's TRUE?" Ron said, dumbstruck.
Hermione looked to Ginny for an explanation. "Ron figures that when Harry bounced Voldemort's curse back onto him, his spirit left his body, which is why he had to make himself a new one. But his actual old body still remained. He said that the wizards might have taken the brain out of Voldemort's body so they could maybe figure out who was dead, who was alive, and who was a Death Eater. But I didn't think it could be known FACT that this was possible." Ginny still looked dazed.
"Of course," Hermione breathed. "Ron...that's BRILLIANT."
"It is?"
"Yes, it is. Just because it was an ancient custom doesn't mean it's not still practiced today...why else would they be keeping brains in the Department of Mysteries? Oh," Hermione was wringing her hands agitatedly, "If only I had my Ancient Runes textbook, I'd be able to decipher it - "
"I've got an Ancient Runes textbook," Ginny interrupted her.
"Wait one second!" Ron broke in. "Have we decided if these Voldemort memories are a good thing or not? Should I be poking my wounds, trying to have more of them?"
"Don't do anything for now," Hermione said reasonably. "Besides, the wizards at the Department of Mysteries must have already picked apart his brain. Unless there was some sort of protective charm around it...hmm..."
"Best leave it alone, for now," Ginny advised. "It gets quite annoying after a while to lose whole periods of time from every day."
Ron bit back his annoyed "How would you know?" just in time as the three of them headed to Ginny's room.
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A/N. Ah, well I hope you liked that. The plot IS going somewhere. Thank EVERYONE so much for all the wonderful reviews, once again. I confess I really want to continue this story, but midterms and SATs are at the end of this month, and I'll only be able to write in my spare time. Until then...REVIEW!
Love,
Renee!
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A/N - WOW! Thanks for all the super-amazing reviews. I really do apologize that this chapter has taken SO long, but do tell that to my five honors and 2 AP classes. I'd like to take this short space to thank everyone who left such wonderfully encouraging reviews! Sometimes if I don't feel that someone is waiting for my story to continue, i'll drop it for a while. Now to answer some questions.
1. Yes, there will be some Harry/Ginny later on. I happen to be a firm believer in the traditional ships!
2. I was rereading The Book of Morgan Le Fey and suddenly realized that in both stories, Ron is having visions. The infamous LavenderBrown even once said, "Madam Pomfrey said I'd have scars...you know, the ones I can't see?" I am SO sorry if anyone thought I was stealing ideas or something, but this story is SOOOOO different. You can't even imagine how different. Also, i'm pretty sure it's going to finish at the end of their summer. I'll think about writing a continuation of the 6th year at school sometime later.
3. This chapter is a Hermione interlude. I'm pretty sure that there will later be a Harry interlude and a Ginny interlude, spaced out evenly. Just to spice things up a bit.
4. Everyone is saying I've got Ron down right, but I'm still a little iffy about him. Let's just say he's weird because of the battle and the stifling normality of his household. Also, please give me ideas about what the ministry should be doing right now? I obviously have things planned, but suggestions are ALWAYS welcome. And not just about that, about anything.
5. It would really help if someone told me how to make things italic. I'm using Notepad. And, my author's note is really long.
So without further ado:
----------------------------------
Chapter 4 - Hermione Interlude
She opened her eyes and immediately the streaming, cold sunlight practically seared them. Rolling over, Hermione groped for the alarm clock on her bedside table, before she realized that there WAS no alarm clock, it WASN'T ringing, and the bedside table wasn't standing there.
Suddenly her eyes focused. Taking in her surroundings, she realized she was in the Weasley's living room. Her gaze traveled toward the ancient grandfather clock, where she saw that the hand labeled HERMIONE was pointing toward HOME -
"What?" Hermione sat up quickly, then winced in pain and clutched her side. Why was she on the clock?
"Oh, good morning, Hermione dear," said Mrs. Weasley as she shuffled down the stairs in a white terrycloth bathrobe and matching white slippers. "How are you feeling, dearest?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she said, rubbing smooth circles on the sore spot in her side. "It's feeling much better."
Mrs. Weasley stopped. "And you, dear? How are YOU?"
Hermione sighed. "I'm fine...I'm glad my parents are safe. I just wish that I could be up and about and DOING something. About...the war. You know."
Mrs. Weasley sighed, and she seemed to droop within her robe. "I know, dear, it must be hard being underage right now. But that's what we're all doing. Preparing, and...waiting. Would you like some breakfast?"
"Oh, of course," said Hermione, throwing the blanket off and taking in the information that she was wearing Ginny's clothes. Mrs. Weasley seemed to think along the same lines as she added, "If you can, go wake up Ginny and Ron, and ask Ginny for some clothes."
"I can," said Hermione, determined. She gingerly stood and found that the pain in her side had gone back to its usual dull ache, the souvenir of Dolohov's curse. Rompius Nitalis, Hermione thought to herself, wincing once more at the sounds of the words in her head. Though he had been silent, Hermione had later found out which curse exactly her attacker had cast and studied its effects. She knew that the pain in her ribs wouldn't go away for a while.
She took a few tentative steps, and was pleased to find that she could walk perfectly normally. Mrs. Weasley stopped moving ceaselessly around the kitchen in order to watch her progress appraisingly. When satisfied that no harm would come to Hermione, she went back to her cooking.
Taking one step at a time, she finally made it up to Ginny's room and opened the door.
"Ginny? Your mum told me to wake you up," she said in a regular tone.
Ginny's eyes fluttered open. She took one surly look at Hermione, groaned and rolled over.
"I'll just take some clothes, then," Hermione volunteered. She proceeded carefully to Ginny's bureau and opened the drawer she knew to contain Ginny's muggle clothing.
'Tut, tut,' Hermione thought disapprovingly. Ginny's clothes weren't nearly as conservative as her own. Hermione settled for the least-offensive shirts and shorts she could find, slipped out of the nightgown and donned them.
'Now to wake Ron,' she thought to herself as she shut the door to the sounds of Ginny's stirring. 'In these clothes,' she thought mischievously, and then caught herself. People had died last night, and she was thinking about what Ron would say about her rather revealing - well, for HER anyway - outfit.
She reached Ron's bedroom door and studied the carved wooden sign hanging on it which read, RON. Who had carved that sign? She must remember to question Ginny about it. It looked so old, fascinating in a way that only ancient things could be.
'It can't be that ancient,' she suddenly realized. 'Ron IS only sixteen.'
She turned the doorknob and walked into Ron's room, nearly snorting at all of Ron's belongings, the majority of which were strewn on the floor. Ron was lying on his back, his mouth slightly open and arms splayed. Hermione stopped and was struck by how CUTE Ron looked for some reason.
'Enough!' she scolded herself.
"Ron? Ron, your mum wants me to wake you," Hermione began.
Ron rolled onto his side, eyes still closed. "Alright, Ginny, I'm up!" he moaned, and his eyes opened.
And got wider.
"Hermione!" he yelled, completely caught off guard. He sat up instantly and his covers fell down, revealing a very sculpted, though very pale torso.
Hermione stood there dumbly while Ron noticed his lack of shirt, flushing. "What're you - what're you doing here?"
"Your mum told me to wake you," she said matter-of-factly, trying to hide her own steadily increasingly pink cheeks.
"Oh...er...oh! Hermione! Are you all right?"
Hermione put her hands on her hips, then sighed. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking. Now I'd like to talk to you..."
"About what?" said Ron, puzzled. He suddenly realized how ridiculous his hair must look and hastily threw a hand up to flatten it.
"I've been thinking about Voldemort. You can change while I talk," she said, walking over to sit on his bed as he vacated it.
"What about You-Know-Who?" said Ron, pleased to finally be getting the subject out in the open.
"Well, he's been gone for what, 15 years? Do you expect him to just settle for ENGLAND after waiting so long? No, there's something missing," said Hermione thoughtfully. Ron knew she had put a lot of thought into whatever she was about to say and marveled.
"So what are you saying?" he said as he pulled on an extremely old T-Shirt of Charlie's that had a dragon printed on it.
"Well," said Hermione, noting subconsciously how GOOD Ron looked with his hair tousled up that way, "Why did Voldemort gain so much power last time? Why didn't any of the other countries ally themselves with England in order to stamp him out? Something doesn't feel right, so I did some research."
Ron didn't roll his eyes - by now he was interested, not to mention grateful that Hermione wasn't paying all that much attention to his striped boxers...or anything IN them. The hair stood up on the back of his neck at the thought.
"And what I found out," Hermione continued, oblivious to Ron's inner-monologue, "Is that the rest of the world just refused to get involved. They invoked some sort of wizard defense that states that unless the threat crossed into their 'Wizard Sector' - and they have the world divided into about thirty wizard sectors - the rest of the wizarding population can stand by and do nothing."
"Alright, so?" Ron concentrated
"So," said Hermione, with a deep breath. "Fudge and Britain just aren't READY for another war against Voldemort. They simply aren't prepared, lack resources. What we need to do is get other wizards to help us."
"Hermione, you only JUST said that they won't get involved with another sector thing," said Ron.
"Right. But the magical defense - its proper name is Sectori Yanassus, by the way - DID say that they would be forced to enter the war if they were attacked."
"So you're planning to have You-Know-Who attack a bunch of innocent people so that...so that LESS innocent people will die? Hermione, that doesn't make sense."
Hermione looked anxious as she twirled one of her brown curls around her fingers. "I know...but how else are we supposed to win this war?"
Her eyes were shining, and Ron suddenly was regretful for attacking her. "Well it's as good an idea as any. How are you going to get You-Know-Who to attack another Sector?"
"I'd imagine it would involve some sort of trap," said Hermione thoughtfully. "You know, I only figured this all out yesterday, so I thought we'd maybe send a letter to Dumbledore about it."
Ron shook his head. "Owls get intercepted, remember?"
Hermione's face fell. "You're right, of course." She looked around the room as if someone were missing. "We can't even tell HARRY about it."
Ron's face burned. Oh, imagine that, he thought bitterly. Hermione should just tell the bloke how she feels and get it over with.
"Maybe," Hermione mused pensively, once again overlooking Ron's emotional turmoil, "We could campaign to other countries that they have to get involved. It would be like the Second World War. Places like the States could send resources - not necessarily troops, but resources."
"What? Like wizard contraband?" Ron was interested again.
"Oh, of course." Hermione was nodding fervently. "There are many types of wizard weapons that can be manufactured. I have quite a fascinating book on it actually, right in my bedroom - "
She stopped short, catching herself, and Ron could see she was suddenly fighting back tears. Alarmed, he wondered the sudden change of mood, and was about to blame it on what Mum and Ginny always called 'ladies' problems' when he realized that Hermione's house had been attacked. All her belongings were probably demolished - childhood relics, familiar furniture, all gone for no conceivable reason.
Awkwardly, Ron put a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she leaned her head into the crook of his shoulder, her bushy but soft hair brushing against his neck. Hermione sat staring numbly at the floor, tears streaming silently down her rosy cheeks.
"We have to do something about it," she whispered. "Next time I might not walk away with just a scratch and a lost bedroom."
"You're right," Ron said absently, inhaling the scent of her hair. Suddenly his mind unfogged and he began to have confidence in his words. "No, you're right. We can't just sit back and let scared grownups try to defend everyone. We need to help out, somehow."
"But ho-" Hermione's rhetorical question was interrupted when the door flew open and Ginny barreled in.
"Ron, what is-" Ginny stopped short and gaped open-mouthed at her brother and friend on the bed. Too late, Hermione and Ron sprang apart, both blushing furiously. A piece of parchment snapped back and forth in her left hand.
"What's that, Ginny?" said Hermione in a high voice.
Ginny looked from one to the other and decided not to comment, opting instead to continue on her errand. "I've just got this letter from Harry. He says that Dumbledore apparently told him what happened in Hermione's neighborhood, and decided it really wasn't safe for him in an unsuspecting Muggle neighborhood after all. He's still susceptible to regular attacks from Death Eaters."
"What does that mean?" asked Hermione. Ron's anger flared. Oh, now that Harry's the subject, we're so interested? he thought to himself bitterly.
"It means he's going to go stay with Professor Lupin. At Grimmauld Place." Ginny bit her lip.
A moment of silence followed their pronouncement.
"Is he mad?" said Ron, seriously questioning Dumbledore's sanity.
Hermione readily agreed with him. "Whyever would he send Harry to a place where all he'll be able to think about is Sirius?"
Ginny reread a part of the letter. "He also says that since the Order is still holding meetings there, he'll have to come stay with us whenever something's going on. Which will probably be often," Ginny added. Ron could tell that she had wanted to add the word "hopefully" to this last statement. Harry's just getting ALL the girls, isn't he, Ron thought to himself. Wait a minute.
"Hang on," Ron protested. "Why is Harry writing to you, anyway?" he asked suspiciously.
"Oh, please, Ron," said Ginny, waving an irritable hand. "I was in the battle right alongside the three of you, and so were Neville and Luna. We have to stay in touch with each other. Who but us knows better what we're facing now?"
"You're right, Ginny," said Hermione, laying a gentle hand on Ron's arm.
And at that moment, Ron's eyes unfocused.
FLASH.
A heavy mahogany door was flying open in front of him. He strode forward purposefully into what appeared to be an extravagant dining room. His vision was clouded, but Ron could make out the hazy figures of two men and a woman. Now he was raising his arm, clenching a familiar wand in his fingers. The three figures were shrieking and running away, but all Ron could hear was a terrifying buzzing sound in his ears. He opened his mouth and out came an unsettling, unnaturally high cackle of laughter.
"Why hello, Riddles," said Ron Weasley in a voice not his own. "I think I've solved you."
FLASH.
"RON!" Hermione cried desperately, her face swimming above his. "Ron, are you alright? Please tell me you're alright."
How did I get on the floor? Ron wondered briefly. He looked at Hermione and his sister quizzically before sitting up.
"What just happened?" Hermione said, on the verge of hysterics. "Ron, I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice I was touching your wound, and - "
"Shh," Ron said. "I'm trying to remember...three people...RIDDLES! I've got it."
"Ron. Would you mind telling us WHAT IS GOING ON?" said Ginny, hands on her hips. "This is what happened in the garden the other day, isn't it? Was that another vision?"
Hermione turned to him, wide-eyed. "You're having visions? Of what? When?"
"Yesterday, when a gnome bit my gashes," said Ron, a hand on his forehead. "But what with everyone that happened, I never got a chance to tell you."
"What were your visions of?" Hermione prompted.
"Well, yesterday, it was like I was in someone else's body. I walked into a room and there was this woman on the floor, I thought she was Ginny, with the red hair. She had a baby she called Harry...I called her a Mudblood," Ron said, cringing.
"That sounds like Harry's mum," said Hermione quietly.
"We've figured that out already," said Ginny wearily. "Ron's got a brilliant theory on the subject."
"There's only one person that could have done that," said Hermione.
"You-Know-Who," said Ron, pleased with his and Ginny's prior deduction.
"But that sounds as if it were in the past, if Harry was a baby. What did you see just now?"
"I was walking into a room again," said Ron dutifully, "But this time it was a big dining room. There were three people inside, I couldn't see them too well...I started laughing...I called them some kind of riddle, and said I'd...solved them...can't remember..."
"That must be Voldemort killing his father and grandparents," said Hermione, rigid.
"And both times it was when something touched his thought-wounds," Ginny put in.
"Hermione," said Ron. "Do you know if...do you know if it's possible to somehow...I dunno, take out a person's brain and pick it apart, look through their memories to find things out about them?"
"Oh of course," said Hermione. "Ancient Egyptian wizards, when mummifying a body, would actually extract the brain the through the nose and preserve it in order to perform Inspection charms on them. They could figure out if Kings had been just, who had been robbing tombs. Instructions on how to do it were found in the form of runes on one of the pyramids. But what does that have to do with it?"
Ron and Ginny sat, stunned. "You mean, I actually made something up that's TRUE?" Ron said, dumbstruck.
Hermione looked to Ginny for an explanation. "Ron figures that when Harry bounced Voldemort's curse back onto him, his spirit left his body, which is why he had to make himself a new one. But his actual old body still remained. He said that the wizards might have taken the brain out of Voldemort's body so they could maybe figure out who was dead, who was alive, and who was a Death Eater. But I didn't think it could be known FACT that this was possible." Ginny still looked dazed.
"Of course," Hermione breathed. "Ron...that's BRILLIANT."
"It is?"
"Yes, it is. Just because it was an ancient custom doesn't mean it's not still practiced today...why else would they be keeping brains in the Department of Mysteries? Oh," Hermione was wringing her hands agitatedly, "If only I had my Ancient Runes textbook, I'd be able to decipher it - "
"I've got an Ancient Runes textbook," Ginny interrupted her.
"Wait one second!" Ron broke in. "Have we decided if these Voldemort memories are a good thing or not? Should I be poking my wounds, trying to have more of them?"
"Don't do anything for now," Hermione said reasonably. "Besides, the wizards at the Department of Mysteries must have already picked apart his brain. Unless there was some sort of protective charm around it...hmm..."
"Best leave it alone, for now," Ginny advised. "It gets quite annoying after a while to lose whole periods of time from every day."
Ron bit back his annoyed "How would you know?" just in time as the three of them headed to Ginny's room.
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A/N. Ah, well I hope you liked that. The plot IS going somewhere. Thank EVERYONE so much for all the wonderful reviews, once again. I confess I really want to continue this story, but midterms and SATs are at the end of this month, and I'll only be able to write in my spare time. Until then...REVIEW!
Love,
Renee!