A/N: Sorry about the messups with Draco's thoughts not being italicized. Is it worth correcting? Ooooh, I am lazy. I'm also thinking of changing Hermione and Ron's relationship issue to something less Luna-centric: much as I like her, it just isn't plausible. I'm reloading this chapter because only after loading it did I notice all the one- or two-sentence paragraphs. It looked very bad, and I attempted to marginally correct it here. Oh, and for my all-purpose disclaimer, see my profile. Now, the story:

Hermione's eyes were shut tightly and decisively, and they would not open again until Ron told her – this time without that low grit in his voice that told her he was pulling one over on her – that they were about to land. Her arms were wrapped tensely around him, and she felt she had been on the edge of beginning to hyperventilate for a very long time.

"Ron!" she shouted, "Where are we?" Ron grinned, keeping his eyes straight ahead, but Harry replied before he could, mere meters away on his own broom: "Won't be long now, Hermione."

"Beautiful forest," Ron spoke, turning his head slightly so his words would carry to Hermione's face, currently portraying abject misery. "You should take a look!" Hermione emitted a moan that vaguely resembled the words, "Merlin, Ron, why do you always do this to me? Don't you think if I liked flying I'd have… tried out for Quidditch, or something?"

Ron looked amusedly over at Harry, who couldn't help but be entertained as well. "Not at all. Perhaps it was a secret passion." Harry snorted.

Hermione's voice took on a sly tone (beneath the slight squeak of hysteria) when she replied, "Secret passion, Ron? And what would you know about those, hmm?"

The next moment she shrieked and clutched more tightly, as Ron had in his embarrassment temporarily lost control of his broom, and turbulence had been the result. Ron cleared his throat, puffing with indignation. "I didn't… well it's not like it wasn't mutual!" he declared. Then caught his breath, and asked in a hurt-puppy voice, "Yeh?"

Hermione smiled, and her grip on him tightened even further in what was ostensibly meant to be a hug, but for Ron was in fact rather painful. Obliviously she murmured, "Well, obviously Ron. I knew it ever since third year, after smacking Malfoy, I've told you loads of times."

"So, what, you can prioritize better after doing violence to Malfoys?" from Harry.

"Naturally," Ron responded for her. "It's a release." This brought from the edge of consciousness something that Hermione had been thinking about for quite awhile.

"Harry," she began, uncertain, "Remember in fourth year, when you insulted Malfoy's mum and he got the angriest I can ever remember seeing him?"

Harry gave a quick glance over, but his confusion was lost on Hermione, seeing as her eyes were still shut. "Sure, what about it?"

"And then last year, in the girl's toilet with Myrtle… and on the tower?"

Harry's voice took on a bitter edge. "Where're you leading to, Hermione?" (Ron in a whisper added, "Better make your point, 'Mione.")

"Well, there's something going on in that household, isn't there?" she asked, carefully. "Or, there was. Draco's always a spoiled prat, around his Dad or otherwise. But he's overly protective of Narcissa. Suppose Lucius…" Hermione finally opened her eyes a crack, and stopped dead at Harry's expression. Heedless of the fact that he was now flying very quickly through the air, he was staring furiously right at her.

"Hermione," he said clearly and slowly, "If something's going on at Draco's house, if his family's been awful to him or whatever excuse you're about to offer, let me make it very clear: I don't care. He let death-eaters into Hogwarts. He, among others, is responsible for what happened to Dumbledore. I don't care what reason you give me, because for the stuff I've seen from him, there's no excuse."

She felt Ron nod firmly, though his tone was gentler. "I've got to say, 'Mione, Harry's right."

Hermione turned the other way and for a moment screwed up her face and thought she might cry, although perhaps it was only her eyes stinging from the wind. Then she turned back to be heard, but with eyes once again closed.

"I didn't mean it like that, Harry. Logically, if we can find his weaknesses, we can manipulate them, just like you and Dumbledore set out to do with Voldemort," she had said the name many times by now, on their travels. "I'm only trying to help."

Despite the precise calmness in her voice, when she turned away again Ron could feel her body shaking with silent sobs. He gave Harry a reproachful look, but just then they reached their destination, and other matters demanded their attention for quite awhile.