A/n: Yes, so it's been ten thousand years in a Cave of Wonders since I've updated. But now I'm doing it so rejoice, all. This fic is ending with the next chapter…so hang on to your turbans, people…
Oh, and about the freaky "End Pov" notes that come after every end of a certain POV…those are necessary because nothing else I do to separate narratives shows up once I upload the chapter. Sorry, I know they're weird, but we must deal with them.
Disclaimer: If I owned things and everything else I fall in love with, I would have a hell of a lot of rubbish.
Dedicated to Figgy by her own demands, because she encouraged me to get this chapter written, although only for selfish reasons and despite the fact that the end could make her barf.
And of course…Happy Holidays and Merry Counting Down To July 16th to all!
NSH Chapter 12: Fair is Foul
Bones, sinking like stones
All that we've fought for
Homes, places we've grown
All of us are done for
To the civilians of Ottery St. Catchpole, the Burrow had never been a normal place in any sense of the word. Most of the neighbors (the Muggle ones, naturally) would ogle at the building with expressions of mild concern for this funny little house that seemed on the verge of tipping over. Not only that, but customarily, strange noises of all sorts could be heard coming from all over the Burrow.
Christmas Day was no different.
"You know," Luna Lovegood said, pointing her wand at the fingernail of her left index finger so that it turned a different color every time she flicked her wrist, "I can always hear when you guys are degnoming the garden, from a few houses down. And it's not because I have a Muggle megaphone sitting by my open window." She stopped changing the color of her nail and watched the trajectory of a particularly fat gnome flying through the air. "You have really loud gnomes," she finished.
Ginny made a grunt of what could either be of agreement or extreme discomfort. She had had every intention of skipping the week's degnoming, sure that her mother would exempt them from the arduous task on Christmas Day, of all days.
How wrong she was.
Although Mrs. Weasley had been in a splendid mood all day (especially after the incident involving her youngest son), as soon as they had finished eating dinner she had assigned the teenagers of the group a job. The girls were stuck with the over-crazed gnomes who seemed to be extra energized from the smell of food wafting out of the house.
Hermione sighed, glaring at an agile gnome fleeing her outstretched hands. She had to agree with Ginny's attitude on the job. Still… "At least we didn't get Fred and George's assignment."
Ginny had to snigger. "Yeah," she said, gazing up at the small attic window, "that ghoul is particularly nasty during the holidays. I'd hate to have to deal with him."
"Don't let them hear you say that," Hermione said, smiling at the younger girl. "They might get ideas."
"Oh, those prats know me well enough to recognize that that would make me want to tear my hair out of my head," Ginny said. She swiped at a short gnome that was running by and caught him by the left ankle.
"Actually," Luna said, waving at a flying gnome that Hermione had just flung over the bushes, "I've always thought that if a person really tried to rip their hair out in anger, they would just end up in tears."
Ginny stopped twirling the gnome about her head as she though about Luna's words. "Maybe," she said, "but it'd be a nice way to vent out the anger, don't you think?"
"Oh, no, I think it would be dreadful. It involves pain to your head," Luna said, returning to her nails. "It is much easier to cry your anger out. But that, of course, involves pain to your heart."
Ginny made a disgusted noise. "Nobody likes that." She glanced at Hermione, who was staring far off into the sky, long after she had thrown a gnome in that direction. "You, of course," Ginny said to her, smirking, "don't have to worry about that at this particular moment, do you?"
"I doubt she's listening, Ginny dear," Luna said. "She might have seen Ronald's face on that gnome and now is pondering whether to retrieve 'him' or not."
"What?" Hermione said, turning to look at her companions.
Ginny nodded and said, "I see."
"The very mention of Ronald's name brings you back to us," Luna added.
Hermione smiled. "No, I was listening. You said that…the twins were, er, ripping the ghoul's hair out."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Wow, you've had an overdose of my brother."
"Excuse me?" Hermione said as Luna snickered.
"Please don't make me repeat it," Ginny said, waving a hand at her. "Sure, I'm happy for you, but that doesn't mean I have to take much of your spit swap. He's my brother. We have, like, the same chromosome source."
"Spit swap?" A blush was creeping into Hermione's cheeks.
"Yes," Luna said, nodding vigorously. "She's referring to that little kiss you shared indoors, which I'm sure it had nothing to do with the mistletoe."
"You think?" Ginny said. She shot Hermione a smile. "Well, at least you might not have to put up with the twins' teasing about the two of you."
It was apparently not so, though, because at that very moment, one of the aforementioned twins poked his head out of the attic window, far above where the girls were standing. Almost immediately, his brother's identical head joined in the fun. They saw Hermione and shared an uncanny mischievous grin.
"Oh, Hermione!" they both sang. Ginny and Luna started to laugh in anticipation; Hermione, on the other hand, covered her eyes with one hand.
"What?" she said cautiously.
"We notice that you are speaking," one of the twins said.
"Of course she is, George, you twit," Ginny said, but the laughter in her voice was all too evident.
"Thank you, Ginevra, for the kind words of encouragement," George said. "We are not done, however."
"How right you are," Fred said. "My dearest brother, freely speaking requires one's mouth, does it not?"
"Indeed it does, Fantastic Fred," George replied.
"Ah," Fred said, looking down at Hermione. "And one cannot freely speak if one's mouth is, let's say, attached to another?"
"No, one cannot!" George responded heartily.
"Which leads me to my next question," Fred continued, now looking back down towards Hermione. "Where is my beloved younger brother Ronniekins, who apparently is capable of freely speaking himself at the moment?"
Hermione shook her head, smiling. "Not with me, couldn't you tell?"
"Oh, it was most evident, don't get us wrong, Hermione," Fred said.
"We just though you might have some sort of mouth-to-mouth communication with him."
"Do you?" Fred cocked his head to the side.
Hermione looked up at the twins pleasantly and said, "Gentlemen, I really would love to discuss this further with you, but I suggest you get back to the ghoul lest your mother unleash her wrath on both of you rather than the ghoul."
"Imaginative, aren't you?" George said, exchanging an amused grin with his brother.
"Oh, I like to think so," Hermione responded. With that, she turned her back on them and lifted her latest gnome high in the air. The twins sniggered for a bit, went back inside the attic, and shut the window.
"Geroff meee!"
Hermione nodded after the flying gnome with satisfaction as she dusted her hands off. "Well, ladies," she said, looking at Ginny and Luna, who were still quite red from all the laughing they'd done, "what shall we do now?"
"I daresay the boys aren't done with their work yet," said Luna. She tucked her wand behind her ear and gazed expectantly at Ginny, as if waiting for a command from her.
"Of course they're not," Ginny said. "Harry will be unbearably quiet around Ron until they get around to discussing Hermione, which will lead to more awkwardness, which will require fooling around to get rid of."
Hermione had both eyebrows raised. "I don't think so, Ginny."
"Oh, believe me, I know Harry."
"I was under the impression that I did, too." She appeared to be mildly hurt.
Ginny shook her head. "I didn't mean it that way, Hermione."
"She means that boys will be boys," Luna said, gazing at something far behind Hermione in the afternoon sky. "How else do you think Harry could react to you and Ron?"
Hermione bit her lip. "Well…he could be, you know, surprised."
Ginny and Luna laughed. "Please, Hermione," Ginny said, "nobody was surprised, in the least bit, by that. We were appalled at how long it took the two of you to finally get to this point, yes, but we were not surprised."
"I think the twins were," Luna said. "They were saying you two would probably dance around the subject for a few more months, even bet with Ginny on it."
"Gin!" Hermione said reprovingly.
"What? It's not like the rest of Gryffindor house wasn't betting on it. Dean bet Seamus his favorite socks that you and Ron would be together by the end of Easter break."
"Socks only?" Luna said, looking disappointed. "Shame."
"O-kay, that's quite enough for one day," said Hermione, starting towards the kitchen door of the Burrow.
"Oh, no, it most certainly is not," Ginny said. She lunged at Hermione's retreating back and caught her right arm. Hermione tugged, trying to free her arm, but Ginny would not give.
"Come, Hermione, trying to avoid the subject is like attempting to digest Hagrid's rock cakes," Luna pointed out.
Hermione sighed and stopped struggling. She turned her head and asked, "What details?"
"Don't be stupid, you know what I mean," said Ginny, dragging her over to where Luna was sitting. She pushed her down and then sat before the two of them. "How did it happen?"
"No, I am not having this conversation in the middle of your backyard, well in eavesdropping distance of any renegade Extendable Ears." That said, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.
"You being petulant is not a pretty sight, Hermione, so stop it."
Luna laughed. "I agree."
"You two are being extremely silly. There's nothing to tell."
"There's plenty to tell," they chorused.
Hermione buried her head in her hands. The image of the night when Harry told her and Ron that he had kissed Cho kept playing repeatedly in her mind, not because it was, in a very distorted sort of way, similar to her present dilemma, but because she had a much better way of describing her own kiss with Ron than just "wet."
"Did he start it or did you?" Ginny asked eagerly, ignoring Hermione's discomfort.
"Well?" Ron had said eagerly after his fit of laughter. "How was it?"
After a pensive moment, Harry had answered with, "Wet. Because she was crying."
"Oh." Not surprisingly, Ron had immediately assumed it was because Harry was an awful kisser.
"Dunno. Maybe I am." Poor Harry, as if he didn't already feel shaken enough about the entire incident.
"Of course you're not." And then Ron went off and asked all about how you knew that Harry wasn't a lousy kisser and how Cho would probably implode soon, because she felt so confused and troubled. That prat, he handled the whole ordeal without even considering Harry's feelings. Or mine!
Why do you like him so much?
Hermione felt heat rushing to her cheeks. "Er…I did."
"All RIGHT! Now we're talking," Ginny said jubilantly.
"Ginny," Hermione said, looking up at her, "do you have any idea how much like your brother you are?"
For a moment, Ginny looked disturbed. "This doesn't mean you want to snog me, does it? Because you should really just stick to Ron…"
"Do you want me to go back inside now?" Hermione said, glaring at Ginny.
"Sorry, it was just kind of a weird thing to say right after telling us you kissed him."
"Well, we wouldn't have gotten anywhere if I hadn't!"
Ginny and Luna exchanged looks full of something Hermione really could not place. "I see. Now why do you say this?" Ginny asked.
"Because…" Now you've signed some sort of contract with them, they'll never let you off the hook. "Because he kind of just stood there after he'd told me all these really nice things."
"Oh?" Luna said, patting her feet absentmindedly. She gave Hermione an encouraging grin, which somehow only made Hermione feel more nauseous.
"He said that I was really important to him and how he really wanted to know everything about me but even if he didn't he was just content with having me around. And then he said he'd never liked a person so much."
"Wow," Luna murmured, and for once, Hermione got the feeling that the girl wasn't stuck in some dream world of her own.
Ginny smiled. "You never know Ron's got it in him till he does something nice like that."
Hermione nodded. "Wise words, Gin."
"I've had to live with him most of my life, I should know." She smiled nostalgically and then glanced back at Hermione. "How about the actual kiss? How was that?"
Smiling almost to herself, Hermione said, "I felt…safe."
"Safe."
"Ginny, don't say it like I'm mental," Hermione said, batting a hand at Ginny's arm.
"Sorry, but it's just…not the first thing that comes to mind when I think of kissing."
"I wouldn't know," Luna interjected. Hermione gave her a sympathetic smile and then said, "Everything just felt right about it, so it made me feel safe. Like I didn't have to run away from it or anything."
"What about surreal? Did you get that feeling?" Ginny said, looking over her shoulder to the kitchen window, where a head of red hair and another of black could be seen.
"Oh, definitely. But you know what? It wasn't awkward at all. It was like we were both used to it or something," Hermione said.
"Well, you will be now. Which means Ron will probably drag you into snog fests and ugh, he's my brother." Ginny waved her hand in the air and made a disgusted face. "Not that there's anything wrong with you snogging him or anything."
"Must we use that word?" Hermione asked, feeling heat in her cheeks.
"Oh, we must," Ginny answered without hesitation. "I just don't know how you put up with him, really."
Hermione laughed. "To tell you the truth, I don't know either."
"He's a funny chap," Luna said.
"That he is," Ginny said, nodding. "And he's good for you, Hermione."
Smiling like she had never thought she could, Hermione said, "Yes. I think so too."
END POV
There had never been a quieter dishwashing in the Weasley household. Of course, dishwashing had always been reason for disgruntlement at the Burrow, but there was no such thing as a quiet activity where a Weasley child was concerned.
Except, naturally, for this instant.
Harry didn't know it. He did not have a statistics guide to the level of silence at the Burrow handy, but he really was not in the mood for anything of the sort anyway. On the contrary, all he really felt like doing was just what he was doing that very instant: staring blankly at the 3 somewhat rusty pots sitting in front of him, ready to be dried.
Ron was the one washing, poor boy. He had to deal with all the misfortunes of fugitive bubbles aiming for his nostrils and had a dreadful case of wet sleeves. However, this did not seem to put a dampen on him, no pun intended.
Which, of course, made Harry feel even more nauseous.
Not that he wasn't happy that Ron was happy. He liked that his best friend was jubilant and nothing but for once. He just wished Ron wasn't so obviously happy. It was a bit revolting, in his eyes.
"Er…you done with those pots, Harry?" Ron asked. Ugh, Harry thought, feeling a new wave of queasiness settling down in his stomach, he sounds happy even when he's asking about pots, for Merlin's sake.
"No. Not quite."
"Oh. Well…should I wash more dishes or wait for you to finish drying those or…" Ron's voice trailed off, and Harry did not want to see if it was because he was looking out the bloody window at the bloody backyard full of snow and Hermione.
"I reckon you could. I'll just…keep drying."
"All right, then."
And then they didn't say anything. It was quite uncommon for there to be awkward silences between them. Especially not ridiculous ones such as this particular silence. Harry glanced at Ron, who was dipping a dish into the soapy water, and looked back at the pots.
There was one that was farther away than the other two. Ron hadn't done a very good job of thoroughly getting the soap off that one. Sure, it shone nicely, but not as much as the other two.
I think I need to sleep.
"You know…we were going to tell you."
Ron's single statement made Harry decide that, no, maybe sleep wasn't the answer. Repeatedly hitting his head against the tabletop sounded like a much better solution to this problem. Why did he want to talk about Hermione?
Why do you not want to talk about her?
"Is that so?" he answered vaguely. He shoved the soapy pot closer to the other two but made no movement to dry any of them.
The splashing sounds that had been coming from Ron's direction stopped. He really is insisting, isn't he?
"I wonder why your mum won't let us use magic to wash these dishes," Harry mumbled, slowly wiping a spot on the countertop with the rag intended for the pots.
"She thinks that this is the right way, even though it takes longer," Ron answered. Harry could feel his eyes boring a hole on the side of his head.
Fine.
"When did it happen, then?" he asked, barely glancing up at Ron.
"Oh."
Harry waited for him to elaborate. He didn't. "Well?"
Ron looked at the wet dish in his hands and then back up at Harry. "When did…mum decide that this was the right way to wa—?"
"Don't be stupid, Ron." This was going to be much more difficult than he'd expected.
"Last night."
"I see." When last night? He was with them the entire time. "I…didn't notice."
"No, it was…later."
Later? Why the bloody hell would they be up later? "What happened?"
Ron put the dish down and started mopping his hands on the apron his mother had thrown on him. "Well. I, er, told her. You know."
Of course I don't, you git, that's why I'm asking. "You said, 'Hermione, I've liked you for the longest time but haven't been able to tell you'?"
"After a little bit of rambling, yes."
"What did she say to that?"
Ron didn't answer. Harry saw his eyes move towards the kitchen window and he followed his gaze. Hermione and Ginny were standing around with a couple of really fat gnomes while Luna sat in the snow doing something to her hand. Looking back at Ron, Harry was disgusted to see a rare stupid smile covering his face.
"Ron?"
"Eh?"
"What did she say when you told her that?"
"Oh. Um. Nothing much, see."
Oh, for the love of Quidditch. "All right…what did she do? Is that a better question?"
Ron's ears reddened. "In a sense, yes."
"In what sense?"
"I mean, yeah, sure, good question."
"Is there an actual answer to it that doesn't involve further questions from me?"
This made him smile. "Yeah." Harry raised an eyebrow, which apparently made no sense to Ron whatsoever.
"What did she do?"
"I imagine she was glad."
"Okay…did she kiss you?"
"Kind of."
"Kind of? Ron, how could she possibly have kind of kissed you?"
Ron looked like he'd run a marathon, his face was so red. "Okay, yes, then."
"She kissed you."
"Yes!" He picked up the plate and started dunking it repeatedly in the soapy water.
Harry put out an arm and held the plate above the water before it could hit the water again. "I think you've washed that one enough, Ron."
"Reckon so, yeah." He fumbled with the plate for a few seconds and then let Harry take it.
Slowly dragging the rag over the sopping plate, Harry considered what else there might be to discuss. Of course there was, but that subject was something that should best be left untouched. However…he was much too curious to keep his mouth shut. "So…are you two…?"
"I guess so."
"Oh."
"But…" Ron turned to look at him and set the plate in his hand down with a loud clank. "This doesn't change anything, all right? We're all still best friends."
"Yeah, except you can snog her and I can't."
"Harry!"
"I'm not saying I want to snog her or anything—"
"I know."
"But I don't want to have to witness much of you two doing that—"
"I know."
"Because I swear, you have no idea how weird it is."
Ron gave him a withering look, and Harry realized that his friend knew all too well how "weird" it was.
"Sorry."
Ron let a smile spread across his face. "It's all right."
They were both silent again for a few moments more. But then Harry emitted a very audible snigger that Ron questioned without hesitation.
"What?"
"It's just…good job, mate."
And with that, the two shared a ridiculously boyish high five, laughing and completely ignoring the unfinished dishes.
END POV
The book lying open in Hermione's lap was the main focus of her attention. Being back home gave her the feeling that she was younger again. It evoked many a memory of coming home from the library with a stack of books to sit in this very couch and read for hours. She had always been quite content to do just that.
But now so much more crossed her mind as she scanned the words of the book. The story seemed a little dull, even, compared to what had been happening in her life as of late. Smiling secretly to herself, she turned a page of the book and stopped reading. She looked out the window at the snowy patch of white that was her front lawn. Beyond that, the houses of her old neighborhood stretched out, some with dilapidated snowmen that'd remained standing for a bit longer after their moments of glory. At the outer edges of all the yards, the snow was tinged with brown, dirtied by the passing cars and the dirt trying to peek out from under it.
Everything about this place told her she had once loved being here, so much that she would refuse to go on family vacations as a child. But coming back to this house and this neighborhood after all the things she had seen and done seemed nonsensical, as if this place was just one other in the books that seemed like it could be real but in the end it wasn't.
Hogwarts was more real to her than her own house, and it made her understand why she sometimes felt so out of place with her parents, to say nothing of Lennie lately. The Christmas holiday so far had held nice moments of being back with her parents and of seeing an old friend, but she knew that she would never be able to leave the magical world for this. How could she? She'd fallen in love with the magical world. And, of course, the people in it.
Shaking her head, she decided to put such thoughts aside and enjoy the rest of the time she had here, even though she knew perfectly well that returning to Hogwarts would please her greatly. She held the book up and continued reading, letting herself become so immersed in its pages that she heard no sound apart of her breathing.
She most certainly couldn't hear the sound of tentative footsteps behind her, so she had no idea that a red haired follower was creeping up to where she sat. However, when she felt a hand come out from behind her and tuck her hair behind one ear, she smiled and looked up at Ron's smiling face.
"You finished all your homework ages ago," he said, taking his hand away and using it to keep himself steady as he jumped over the back of the couch and landed next to her. He was wearing the red "Keeper" shirt she'd given him for Christmas.
She couldn't help but smile. "Don't do that." Patting his feet off the couch, she said, "And, yes, I have finished all my homework already, but not all reading involves homework, you know."
"Fascinating, I actually had no idea," he answered sarcastically.
"You really should try reading one of these days," she said encouragingly.
"I read."
She gave him a Look. "I meant something other than Quidditch magazines."
"Actually, I try to keep out of those things because there's always something about that git in there," Ron replied with a bitter tone that must have been more out of habit than anything. After all, did he really need to keep that up?
"Ron, do you find it necessary to still insult him?"
Ron grinned. "Just because I came out the better man doesn't mean I don't think he's a git."
Hermione looked away, smiling. He seemed to be quite proud of "coming out the better man."
There was silence for a few minutes, during which time Hermione tried to concentrate on the page she was reading but couldn't, being distinctly aware that Ron was still in the room. She herself did not feel like reading much anymore. Feeling her cheeks warm up, she closed the book with a light thud and set it aside.
"Hey," Ron said softly, and she looked up to see him studying his hands. "So…thanks for the shirt." He met her eyes and plucked at the right arm of his shirt. "It's brilliant."
She nodded, biting her lip. "I'm glad you like it."
"I love it." He seemed a bit sheepish after he said that; he quickly averted his eyes to the very dull coffee table in front of them. She saw him tapping his fingers against his leg, which only made her smile more. Intending to say something, she opened her mouth, but he spoke first.
"Yesterday was fun, eh?"
"Oh. Yes. I suppose the twins never change, do they?"
Ron snorted. "That is something Ginny and I learned at a very early age."
Hermione laughed lightly and then there was silence again. Knowing him for so many years had given her the advantage of being able to know when he wanted to say something, and she knew there was one particular thing he wanted to divulge but didn't know how to.
"You know…" He cleared his throat. "I told Harry."
This surprised her. It felt very odd indeed to imagine Ron and Harry discussing her. "Oh?"
Ron glanced at her and then back at the coffee table. "Yeah."
"How did he take it?"
A shrug. "He wasn't exactly thrilled. Sounded a bit resigned. But…that's expected, right?"
Hermione responded with a shrug of her own. "I guess it must be a little odd for him."
"Like it wasn't odd for me? Him and Ginny, I mean."
"I know. He'll get used to it, though. You did…to him and Ginny." You really don't need to keep clearing it up, you know, both of you understand what you're talking about.
"Yeah, I suppose so." Hermione was somewhat disheartened to see that he did not at all look comforted. She scooted over so she was sitting right next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"He's your best friend, Ron. I'm sure he understands," she said.
Ron smiled. "I know he understand. I just think he might need to carry something he can be sick into for a bit before he can regain control of his stomach around us." This made them both laugh, and it eased the tension of knowing that things with their best friend were about to change. To say nothing of each other, of course.
"But anyway…thanks again for the shirt." Oh, there was definitely something else on his mind. Poor boy.
"It was my pleasure, Ron, I just had to get it for you," she replied.
He didn't say anything after that, only turned his head slightly to look at her. Then he leaned forward slowly and kissed her softly on the lips for a few seconds. When he pulled back, he ran a hand through his hair and mumbled, "Can I?"
She smiled and tentatively touched his cheek. "Of course you can, Ron."
His cheeks reddened and he said, "Well…I know." He laughed and then added, "I just meant… your parents…"
"Oh!" Hermione had to laugh too, feeling slightly stupid. "Well, they're not here right now."
"Ah."
"Yes."
Ron's eyes darted around the room and then came back to meet hers. "All right," he mumbled, and then slowly reached up to cup her face in his hands. Then he kissed her, a deep and long kiss that made her relax against him and forget that she had been reading at all that afternoon.
After a few minutes of kissing—which was turning out to be quite the involving pastime indeed—Ron pulled away and said, "Now we certainly know why everyone likes to snog so much."
"Must you use that word? It's so raw." She said this with a bit of a scolding tone in her voice, but she was smiling nonetheless.
"I think it's a funny word."
"It's rude!"
Ron looked pensive for a moment. Then he said, "I really don't care what it is; I just love what it means." And he kissed her again, maybe to shut her up or maybe to prove his point. Then the doorbell rang, loud and resonant throughout the empty house.
"Ron."
He grinned and caught her mouth with his. She kissed him back for a few moments and the pulled away. "Ron," she said again, sitting up. "Did you not hear the doorbell?"
"Vaguely, yeah." He tugged at her arm, trying to bring her back down. "It can't be your parents, though, they would have a key."
Hermione considered this for a moment. "Well…" Before she could get another word out, Ron pulled her down into another deep kiss. Hermione smiled against his lips, putting her fingers in his hair for a moment, and then pulled away slightly.
"Come on, someone has to answer it," she said.
Then a voice behind them said, in a strangled sort of tone, "Yeah, I'm on it."
Both Ron and Hermione bolted upright to see Harry dash out of the room.
"Poor chap," Ron said, looking after him but smiling nonetheless.
"All right, off," Hermione scolded. She stood up and beckoned him to do the same. He did, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and then went after Harry. Hermione touched her face, noticing how warm it was, and then straightened her hair out, which was no easy feat.
Walking into the foyer, she saw Harry and Ron greeting Lennie. A smile spread across both girls' faces when they saw each other. "Hermione!" Lennie cooed, walking up to Hermione and giving her a hug. "How was your Christmas?"
Hermione's eyes flickered towards Ron, who was too obviously biting back a smile. "Lovely," she answered, grinning herself.
Lennie raised an eyebrow and turned to Harry. "Am I being left in the dark about something?"
Harry looked like he'd been asked if he'd been caring for Blast-Ended Skrewts. He mumbled something that sounded like, "Lucky you" and then awkwardly pointed at Ron and Hermione.
"Oh," Lennie said. "So you two made up?"
Ron laughed. Harry looked threateningly green. Hermione blinked rapidly for a few moments and said, "Er, yes. Actually—"
"Let's just say they made up a little too well," Harry supplied.
"Oh," Lennie replied, looking amused. "Well, it's about time, isn't it?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows and said, "Come again?" while, at the same time, Ron nodded and offered an "I'll say."
All of them had to laugh, even Harry, who still looked like he'd swallowed something volatile.
"So, gang, we come to the sad good-bye," Lennie said, once the laughter had died down. "I'm leav—"
"What?" Hermione interrupted. "But there are still 5 days left of Christmas holidays!"
"I know. But a couple of friends from school and I were planning this ski trip. We're going to America!" she explained enthusiastically.
"And here I thought we were the only fools who ski," Ron mused. Hermione glared.
"Skiing is a lovely sport," she said reproachfully.
"Right. Attaching two thin sticks to your feet and then chucking yourself off a mountain while trying to maneuver with two other sticks sounds fascinating," he retorted.
"I second that," Harry said, nodding.
"You two are quite the act, do you know that?" Lennie said, somewhat wistfully.
"Don't encourage them," Hermione warned, but she was smiling.
"We don't mean to bash your trip, Lennie," Ron said.
"But we don't see the point in skiing," Harry finished.
Lennie laughed. "Your point has been made." She paused for a moment and said, "Thank you all, though, for a really great time. Best time I've had in years around here, I'd say." She hugged each one of them in turn and said, "I'm really going to miss you. But I hope we'll see each other again sometime."
"Don't worry, we won't keep Hermione away from here for too long," Ron said, taking Hermione's hand. "I think we're all pretty taken with this place."
Lennie smiled. "Well, congratulations to the two of you"—they both blushed—"and, Harry, I hope you'll be well, so you can come back and visit."
Harry looked distant for a moment, but then he nodded and said, "Can't wait."
Grinning, Lennie walked out the door, said, "Have a great new year," and then turned away from the Granger house. Hermione wondered when she'd have a chance to see her old friend again, but she knew that whenever that time came, it would be just as great as this one.
END POV
It was New Year's Eve, although not technically. Strictly speaking, it was already the new year, and everyone had finally gone to bed. Except Hermione. She couldn't seem to fall asleep.
They'd had a very eventful night; her parents had had a few friends over to celebrate New Year's, and they had all been quite punchy after a few drinks. Harry had gone over to the Burrow to see Ginny for a bit. Hermione smiled when she remembered the block of time that Ron had referred to as a "spiffing snog," which of course she scolded him for, even if what he was saying was true.
But by about 1:30 in the morning all the guests had left and her parents were completely sloshed. She had to help them both to their bedroom, where they dropped like logs onto their beds and began snoring promptly a second after Hermione had left the room.
Harry and Ron were both already asleep; she'd passed their room on her way out to the living room. Ron was settled down in a very interesting, contorted shape and she knew he was completely asleep by the unmistakable pool of drool on his pillow. Harry had just been lying very still. She had wondered whether she should wake them and the three of them could sit watching the telly until they all decided to go back to bed. But she knew they were tired and besides, was it their fault she couldn't fall asleep?
So now she was sitting in her favorite armchair, reading by wandlight. It was a bit unnerving, actually, since her house was so large and dark at this time of night. But she didn't exactly mind; she knew she'd go back upstairs sometime soon.
With that thought, she let herself fall deep within the pages of her book.
POV SHIFT
He watched the fingers of his right hand twirl the wand, over and over again until he'd stopped counting the number of times the wand spun. Now he was just doing it and staring off into the wall he was facing, lying there on the bed.
Ron was snoring very lightly behind him. Besides that, there was no sound. It should have been very easy for him to drop off to sleep. He'd had a fun night, first at the Burrow with Ginny and then back here with Ron and Hermione. There was nothing eating away at him that was keeping him up.
But all he wanted to do was keep his eyes open.
His scar was prickling unpleasantly. It wasn't a constant stab, though; just that tingling feeling, like when his foot "fell asleep." Barely there, but it didn't go away. He could only wonder what it meant. Had he ever had any answers about his scar? No, of course not.
It was only a label that spelled out "Harry Potter" in strange symbols that only meant "The Boy Who Lived" and nothing more. And sometimes…it led to so much more.
POV SHIFT
The light of Hermione's wand made it impossible to see much except the words of the particular page that was lit. It was kind of nice, since it showed so well what she became whenever she read; immersed in the book, detached from the outside world.
That, however, did not stop her from feeling the wand tip that was suddenly being pressed against her throat.
A strong hand grabbed her left shoulder firmly and dug the wand even closer to the right side of her neck. Every muscle in her body froze and she felt her breathing grow ragged. She couldn't see who her attacker was, but she had many guesses, each worse than the former.
Then a voice by her ear said, "Don't move and don't make a sound. You're next, Mudblood."
Unmistakably Lucius Malfoy. And now she could hear more sounds around her, hissing noises that she could only identify through Harry. She felt tears form in her wide eyes.
"Well, well, well," said a woman's voice. "If it isn't little baby Potter's little baby girlfriend."
Hermione closed her eyes, trying to even her breathing. It was that woman from the Department of Mysteries…the one who'd killed Sirius.
She saw small bubbles of light appearing in the darkness outside her own wandlight. The Death Eaters were lighting their wands; her light was completely unnecessary. "Nox," she murmured, and her light went out.
Malfoy pressed the wand against her neck and hissed, "No sudden movements, you filth."
By shadow of the dim light she could see the tall shapes of the Death Eaters detach themselves from the dark background and loom before her.
"Now, then," Lucius Malfoy said, keeping a firm grip on her. The other Death Eaters laughed. "What do you say we go find ourselves a hero?"
POV SHIFT
There was a noise like shattering glass that echoed through the dark hallways and made Ron shoot up and look around.
It was very dark, probably sometime after two or three in the morning. Harry had his back to him and he was lying very still. Ron took a deep breath, having been startled by the noise, and reached for his wand. He'd just…look around outside. No harm done.
He was up and walking towards the door when he stopped. Harry's steady breathing behind him told him his friend must be asleep. Nevertheless, he turned around and sought Harry's face. He jumped when Harry's head suddenly turned and said, "What?"
"Sorry, I…" He ran a hand through his hair. "Did you hear that noise?"
"Pretty damn loud, yeah, I heard it," Harry said, turning away again.
Ron nodded. "What do you think it is?"
Harry made an exasperated noise. "I don't know, Ron, a cat? Let's just go to sleep."
Ron looked down at his hand, gripping the wand tightly, and then looked back up to Harry, who seemed to not care very much. Maybe he was right, maybe it was just…
Abruptly, Harry stood up, wand in hand, and walked up to where Ron was standing. "Let's go."
Without another word, both of them made their way quietly down the stairs towards the source of the sound, the living room. About halfway down the stairs, they heard voices.
"What do you reckon?" Ron whispered.
Harry didn't answer. He looked straight ahead for a few moments and continued down the stairs, motioning for Ron to follow behind him. At the bottom step, Harry carefully craned his head around the wall for a moment. Then he turned back to Ron, pale as a ghost.
"What?" Ron asked, afraid he already knew the answer.
Harry put a hand to his forehead. "Death Eaters," he whispered. "They've got Hermione."
Ron felt his heart do a painful lurch. He gripped his wand tightly and gritted his teeth. "What do we do?" he choked.
Harry looked as startled as Ron felt. "I…I don't know. We can't take on all of them. And the Grangers…"
"They won't touch them," Ron growled.
"Quiet." Harry looked around desperately in the dark. "All right, we'll…we'll go back upstairs and get the Cloak and…no, no, that'll be something else we'll have to worry about, it would just get in our way…"
"Harry, calm down," Ron whispered, although he felt nowhere near calm himself.
"Silencing Charms on our feet. That's what we'll do."
"What?"
Without responding, Harry pointed his wand at his feet and muttered, "Silencio!" and then did the same to his own. "They won't hear us coming."
"And what else do you propose we do, not breathe?" Ron noticed a slight urgency in his voice.
"Stop it, don't panic," Harry muttered, closing his eyes and moving his lips soundlessly.
"Harry, we can't do this."
His best friend looked up to meet his eyes. "So, what, do we leave her out there with them?"
Ron listened to the voices, talking rapidly and sometimes laughing. He thought of Hermione sitting amidst them, trying to figure out what to do and knowing there was nothing she could do. She probably thought she would die tonight. "No," Ron said, both in answer to Harry's question and the thoughts in his head.
"Then let's g—"
There was a sudden flash of light that flew just past Harry's head. Both boys looked at each other with wide eyes and knew they'd been heard. Harry looked like he was in pain for a moment, and then without a word stepped out from behind the wall and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
There was a roar from the Death Eaters. Ron looked around, trying to figure out where to go. They couldn't both be caught in the same place, that would lessen their chances. He glanced at Harry, who had dodged behind a couch, and said under his breath, "Good luck, mate," then took off up the stairs. He tore past the upstairs corridors until he found a window. Taking a deep breath, he opened it, pocketed his wand, and then swiftly jumped out of it.
He landed on the snowy ground with a thud that knocked the air out of him. There would certainly be bruises involved, but otherwise he was fine. Brushing snow off himself, he ran to the door and then walked inside the house as quietly as he could.
When he caught sight of the living room, he ducked down into the shadows and inspected the scene. There were three Death Eaters on the ground, unconscious. Two others were standing with their heads together, talking rapidly in low voices. There was one last one holding Hermione down on a chair, his wand at her throat. Ron saw no sign of Harry and knew he must be fending off the other Death Eaters.
Get Hermione, then what? And how, for that matter? His breathing was shallow and all too loud. Maybe he could knock out the two talking Death Eaters and then take on the one keeping watch over Hermione. But he'd be noticed as soon as he uttered a word of a spell. This was impossible! All the spells he'd learned in the D.A. were hurtling through his mind, but he had no idea how to maneuver with them.
He'd just have to take a chance.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the shadows, pointed his wand at one of the talking Death Eaters, and said, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Before he could think about anything else, he flicked his wand towards the other Death Eater and screamed, "Stupefy!," then ducked as a jet of red light flew over his head.
He stood back up to see his targets lying on the ground motionless. Hermione was watching him with wide eyes as the remaining Death Eater pointed his wand at him. "Crucio!"
Ron had shouted "Protego!" before the Death Eater had finished speaking. The curse bounded off his barrier, causing the Death Eater to cry out in anger.
"Fine, boy, if all you will do is hide then she'll get what you're missing out on," said the unmistakable voice of Lucius Malfoy. Giving Ron no chance to stop him, he pointed his wand at Hermione and said, "Crucio!"
"NO!" He averted his eyes from the sight of Hermione's body writhing and tried not to hear her screams. "Expelliarmus!"
This sent Malfoy flying backwards. His wand flew out of his hand and the curse stopped. Hermione's screaming ceased, but she lay on the ground, whimpering. Ron ran forward and shouted, "Stupefy!" with his wand pointed at Malfoy, who immediately fell back down.
"Hermione," Ron said, stooping to pick her up. She was limp and there were tears on her face, but she threw her arms around him nonetheless.
"How?" she mumbled.
Ron tried to keep his composure as he stroked her back. "I don't know," he said. "We need to find Harry, though. Can you stand?"
She nodded. "They went that way." She pointed towards the dining room. "He's got to be all right…" She picked up her wand from where it lay on the ground and looked around the room.
"STUPEFY! STUPEFY!" She shot a jet of red light at each of the motionless Death Eaters, and then turned to Malfoy. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"
"I already got them," Ron pointed out.
"I know," she said, her voice still shaking. "But that should hold them for longer."
With that, they both took off towards the dining room.
POV SHIFT
The disarming spell shot out of Harry's wand and hit a nearby Death Eater. There were at least ten in the room, and at first this made him feel very light-headed. But seeing Hermione's eyes full of panic and remembering the night at the Department of Mysteries stirred something deep within him that made him stop thinking and start hexing.
He turned to one of the Death Eaters who was raising his wand and shouted, "STUPEFY!"
Without even stopping to see the curse take effect, he turned to see the Death Eater he had just disarmed reaching for his wand. "Relashio!" Harry shouted, pointing at his hand. Immediately, the Death Eater shrieked in pain and clutched his hand, which had turned a nasty red color.
"Locom—"
Harry turned to the Death Eater about to curse him and screamed, "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" The Death Eater keeled over, his wand still pointed up. That done, Harry turned back to the Death Eater he had disarmed and Stunned him.
He had done this very quickly, but now the other Death Eaters were advancing on him. One of them shot a jet of blue light at him, which he ducked. Then he shouted, "Protego!" and a spell another Death Eater had shot bounced off into the darkness.
Noticing there were still many Death Eaters left, he took a deep breath and then took off at a run towards the dining room. He heard Lucius Malfoy's voice shout, "AFTER HIM!"
He swerved around a table and tried to think of what to do. What rooms where there to go into? The kitchen, back to the living room…the cellar! But where the bloody hell was Ron?
A jet of red light flew over his shoulder, which prompted him to run through to the kitchen straight for the cellar door. Without looking back, he pulled the door open, slammed it shut, and said, "Colloportus!"
"Lumos!" he muttered, and as soon as a light came from the tip of his wand he raced down the stairs, ignoring the shouts coming from behind him. He missed the last step and toppled over, scraping his arm on the rough cellar floor. Now what?
From up the stairs he heard a Death Eater's voice say, "Alohomora!" Looking around, he decided going outside and around the house, then coming back inside was his best bet. He was about to open the door when he heard a pop! sound behind him and turned to find Remus Lupin looking straight at him.
He looked startled to see Harry standing there. "Out!" Harry yelled and threw himself out the door, knowing Lupin was following him. "Colloportus!"
They both ran up the stairs leading to the backyard. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked, although he couldn't be more relieved to have him there.
"Dumbledore told me to come," Lupin replied, glancing back down at the door.
Harry beckoned towards the front door of the house. "How did he know this was happening?"
"I'm not sure. All he said was that Neville had told him this was going on."
Harry stopped in his tracks. "What?" Then a booming noise came from the cellar door. "Nevermind, then, let's go."
They ran inside the house and found six Death Eaters, including Malfoy, lying unconscious in the living room. Hermione was no longer there.
"Ron," Harry said, grinning.
"Best not take any chances with these," Lupin said, and Harry saw his eyes linger on the Death Eater he'd disarmed, whose mask had come off to reveal the face of Rodolphus Lestrange.
"Adumbro eliciolicitum," Lupin said, flicking his wand at Lestrange. He repeated the spell with all the other Death Eaters and explained to Harry, "This will make their shadows keep them in place."
"All right," Lupin said, grabbing Harry by the shoulders. "Go up and see if Hermione's parents are all right. Dumbledore should be here by now."
Harry nodded, feeling encouraged by the thought that Dumbledore would come to help. There was a scuffling sound at the door, then a pop! close behind them. Harry turned to see Kingsley and Tonks standing there, wands at the ready.
"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said, in a solemn tone that was quite odd on her. Kingsley gave him a nod and then the sound of the door opening made Harry turn back.
"Go, Harry!" Lupin said, as Tonks and Kingsley Stunned an incoming Death Eater each.
He took off up the stairs, conjuring a Shield Charm just in case one of the Death Eaters decided to target him. Seeing the darkness of the second floor loom closer made him hope dearly that Dumbledore was already somewhere inside this house.
POV SHIFT
"Ron, wait," Hermione said, looking down the dark cellar stairs. "I'm worried about my parents. I don't know if any of the Death Eaters might have…" Her voice trailed off and she looked like she was trying very hard not to cry.
Ron felt very much at a loss. He knew that there were at least four Death Eaters following Harry. As much as he had faith in his friend's skill, it would be exceedingly hard for Harry to deal with four armed Death Eaters, much less five or six. "Hermione, Harry is alone with a hell of a lot of Death Eaters."
"I know!" She kicked the wall and said, "I know but…Ron, my parents have no way of defending themselves. They could die!"
Ron was afraid she would say something like that. "Okay, don't think like that," he said. He gave her a quick hug and said, "We will go and check on your parents. Then you'll have to stay with them while I go find Harry."
"But you can't go alone."
"We don't have any other choice, now come on." He took her hand and they ran back to the stairs and up to the second floor. Hermione led the way to her parents' room, and Ron knew she was terrified; her hand was shaking like mad.
She stood in front of their door for what seemed like a lifetime. Ron couldn't help but think of all the things that could be happening to Harry and willed her to open the door. He gave her hand a squeeze, which must have served as some encouragement because she turned the doorknob and walked inside.
The room was so peaceful you would never have thought there was a small battle going on outside. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were lying in their bed, breathing steadily. Hermione sighed and was about to speak when there was a burst of flame. She shrieked, the Grangers woke up, and a dark shape appeared by the window.
"Hermione? Ron? Is everything all right?" Mrs. Granger said, and then she screamed as well, having noticed the man standing by the window.
"My apologies, madam," a very familiar voice said. Then a shaking one mumbled, "Lumos!" and the wandlight revealed a most unlikely pair: Albus Dumbledore and Neville Longbottom.
"Professor!" Ron and Hermione said at the same time.
Dumbledore nodded, but he did not smile. "Where are they?" he asked, glancing at Neville, who looked more terrified than ever.
"Six of them are downstairs, unconscious," Ron said.
"But there are more chasing after Harry."
"And we don't know where they've gone."
There came a roar from downstairs, and Ron could faintly hear voices shouting out spells. "Have you two seen Remus, Nymphadora, or Kingsley?" Dumbledore said, taking out his wand and walking to the door.
"They're coming?" Hermione said hopefully.
"We haven't seen them, Professor," Ron supplied.
"Neville," Dumbledore said, turning back to look at the frightened boy. "Show Hermione's parents how to get back to the castle and go back with them."
"But—"
"You need to do this, Neville, because I have to stay here. They can't." Dumbledore looked at Neville straight in the eyes for a few seconds, and Ron saw the boy stand up straighter, grip his lit wand, and nod solemnly.
Dumbledore turned back to Ron and Hermione. "Now, y—"
Then Harry burst in the door, wide eyed, his right arm slightly bloody, his face pale. Hermione immediately threw herself at him and broke down. "Harry, we were so worried and we didn't know where you'd gone…"
Ron felt weak-kneed; it meant the world to him to know that Harry was fine. Maybe they could get out of this with no harm done after all. He gave Harry a shaky smile over Hermione's head. Ron saw a tear roll down Harry's face as he nodded and smiled back.
"Harry," Dumbledore said, and Ron noticed that his voice softened. "What happened?"
Harry hastily drew a hand across his wet cheek and replied, "I just…ran, they followed. Then Lupin Apparated in the cellar and we both ran back in through the front door, and that's when Tonks and Kinsley Apparated and now they're downstairs but Lupin wanted me to come up here because he knew Hermione's parents were…" His voice trailed off as he saw them standing behind Dumbledore, looking frightened but definitely in one piece.
"How many Death Eaters were chasing after you?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes straying past Harry to the dark corridor beyond.
"I don't know…five, six, maybe more."
Without another word, Dumbledore passed between Ron and Harry and marched down the corridor. Ron looked out to see him stop at the stairs, and then he heard Lupin's voice say, "Albus, we've got them all. I suggest we get out of here before they come to."
Dumbledore nodded, but went down the stairs anyway. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed, with Neville close behind.
"But Professor," Hermione said tentatively, "I still don't understand how found out they were here." A soft noise came from behind her, which Ron thought might have come from Neville. He didn't say anything, though.
"Miss Granger, I don't think any of us can quite understand it," Dumbledore murmured, looking around as they approached the living room. Ron noticed he looked weary and was reminded of the Headmaster's old age.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, her voice very small.
Dumbledore sighed. "We'll discuss it when we return to the castle." With that, he swept his wand over the six motionless bodies of the Death Eaters and said, "Mobilicorpi!" All six Death Eaters rose and hung in the air eerily.
"Should I take these, Albus?" Kingsley's deep voice said from somewhere in the foyer. Ron supposed the Death Eaters he, Tonks, and Lupin had fought were still lying there, knocked out.
"If you would be so kind, please," Dumbledore said, moving his floating Death Eaters towards the foyer. "We'll leave them all outside—it's all we can do." Ron saw the grimace he was already wearing on his face deepen.
"Wait," Harry said. "What about the Ministry? Won't they be showing up here anyway? That was a lot of magic that we used, Professor, they're bound to—"
"Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "Kingsley took care of it before he came here. He and Tonks made sure that the Ministry would not be alerted of the magic the three of you were using. Please do not ask how, because we really don't need to complicate things even further." This was followed by a stunned silence; clearly, Dumbledore was still apprehensive about the night's events.
When no one asked anything else, Dumbledore led the floating Death Eaters out to the foyer and presumably the front yard with Kingsley. Harry was standing quietly by the staircase, gazing at where the bodies of the Death Eaters had lain. Hermione was watching her parents, who were listening to whatever Neville was telling them but shooting glances at the group gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Ron slipped his hand into hers. "Don't worry," he murmured. "We're all right now."
She nodded but did not reply. Instead, she continued watching her parents, and Ron could only imagine what had gone through her mind knowing that Death Eaters were in her house and her parents were in danger.
At that moment, Dumbledore and Kingsley walked back into the house, Dumbledore tucking his wand into his robes. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, would you please join us down here?" he said kindly to Hermione's parents. "You as well, Neville." The Grangers exchanged glances with each other and then looked at Neville, who nodded encouragingly despite the fact that he himself still looked terrified.
As the Grangers and Neville made their way down the stairs, Dumbledore began to speak. "There are many things that we must discuss about what happened tonight," he said, watching Neville with slightly furrowed eyebrows. "However, that shall not be done here. The Death Eaters are being kept at bay by their shadows but we will not risk the chance of another attack. As such…" He closed his eyes and put his fingertips together. After a few moments of silence, there was a burst of flame to his left, and Fawkes the phoenix suddenly appeared sitting on the Headmaster's shoulder.
Dumbledore stroked Fawkes' feathers and said, "We shall return to the castle. Harry, you will make the first trip, with Remus, Nymphadora, Kingsley, and Neville. I shall return with Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and her parents."
Harry looked from Hermione to her parents and nodded. "But…how are we returning?"
"With Fawkes," came Neville's small voice.
"What?"
"Harry, Neville will show you how to get back. Now, we must be hasty," Dumbledore said, nodding to Neville, who walked off to the side with Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley.
Before joining them, Harry turned to Hermione. He took a deep breath and said, his voice shaking, "I'm sorry." With that, he walked over and stood next to Neville.
"Fawkes," Neville called, and the bird flew over to him. Neville let him sit on his right arm and then said, "All right. Now, all you need to do is, er, just kind of…take one of his tail feathers. He won't mind, I don't think, he didn't mind before and…"
Dumbledore cleared his throat and gave Neville a small smile.
"So…take one," Neville said, brandishing out his arm. Fawkes looked around and squawked softly as each person plucked a feather out of his tail. Harry inspected the feather in his hand curiously, thinking that one like this resided in both his and Voldemort's wands. Then Neville said, "Just hold on to it, don't let go no matter what goes on around you." He glanced at Dumbledore, took a deep breath, and then said, "Let's go, Fawkes."
There was an explosion of flame that made everyone take a step back. When the glare of light had subsided, they looked out to see empty space where their companions had stood only moments before.
"Wicked," Ron murmured, and looked at Dumbledore. "Now do we wait for Fawkes or…?" Before he could finish asking, Dumbledore's shoulder seemed to catch fire as Fawkes returned. "I see," Ron finished.
Dumbledore was making tutting sounds. "Well, we're certainly using up his tail feathers. This time, we'll have one per two people. So, here you go—" He plucked a feather from Fawkes' tail and handed it to Mr. Granger, "—and one for you." He gave Hermione a feather with a smile.
Ron held Hermione's hand tighter as she brought the feather between them. She glanced at her parents, who smiled faintly and then huddled around their small feather.
"Don't you need one, Professor?" Ron asked. Dumbledore merely smiled and stroked Fawkes' head.
"Whatever happens, hold on to your feather."
Ron looked at Hermione, who had shuffled closer to him. He met her eyes for a moment and felt something stir deep within him. There was a knowledge in his heart that tonight could have been fatal, that two words out of Lucius Malfoy's mouth could have killed her. He didn't know what he could have done had that happened.
"Take us away, Fawkes."
Ron felt heat surround him as flames burst up in a circle around the two of them. He knew this would only take a minute, but nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful it was. There was a crackling sound coming from the flames, which loomed high above their heads.
Hermione murmured, "This is nice."
"Yes," he said, and their eyes met. There was an overwhelming feeling in his chest, like some sort of insect was trapped and seeking the warmth of Fawkes' fire outside, and so this crazy little thing—something that on most other instances could certainly go ignored—rammed again and again against his chest, a foreign beating of a faraway drum that he later realized may or may not have been his heart. It was a strange feeling that he'd never been conscious of before, and so with no means of identifying it, it terrified him and puzzled him to no end.
But the little buzzing bug brought the bizarre sense of belonging as well.
As such, it encouraged him to lightly tap the top of Hermione's hand, tightly held in his. She was still holding fierce eye contact with him. He brought their hands to rest at some random spot on his chest. Suddenly he felt like there was dust in his eyes and something was making him want to cough violently. Instead, though, he choked, "I…you see?" Maybe the buzzing of the bug would make her understand.
And by the way her red-rimmed eyes shone as she nodded before throwing her arms around him, he was pretty sure she did.
A/n: Right, so….review?