Hey! Sorry this one took a bit to get out but I figured you would forgive me if I posted two chapters :) Enjoy!

Chapter 27

Harry Potter was many things to the wizarding world and he had been since the moment his parents had died on that fateful night almost twenty years before. He had struggled through the beginning of his life thinking that nobody cared for him, loved him, or would miss him if he were to die in his sleep locked under the stairs. Ten long years spent in the Dursley's home had shaped his beginning, but they had never curbed his curiosity or dampened his fierce spirits. Then one day he had received a mysterious letter (the first letter he had ever received), and everything had changed for him. Since that time he had spent countless hours wondering exactly what had been best about his new lease on life. Was it the magic? Was it that he was suddenly no longer treated like the mud under a brand new shoe? It hadn't taken him very long to decide that his fame was not a change for the better, and that magic had its definite advantages; it added excitement and adventure into a life he had thought had been destined to serving his fat uncle and bully of a cousin.

But the best change of all, he had realized, was that of friendship. Ron had been his first friend, Ron had been his first brother, Ron had been the first person he would ever truly call family. Hermione had then become his sister, his teacher, his nagging mother, and had snuggled her way into his heart right alongside Ron. He had found the first two people that he could truly rely on (despite all the childish arguments they had throughout their time at Hogwarts) and he had vowed to do what he could to keep them safe.

Over the years, through all that he suffered, he learned that he couldn't control everything, that he couldn't be the hero the world expected alone, and that he didn't ever want to be alone again. The moment he had seen Voldemort standing over Ron, he had known that the evil wizard had to die. There was no doubt left in his mind; there was no longer any anguish over the thought of becoming a murderer. There was absolutely no question. Voldemort had to die, and Harry had to save Ron. Then the table had turned, and when Harry had been absolutely positive that his life, and those of the ones he loved was going to end, he had discovered new strength that wasn't his own. He was a strong wizard, and he knew that he would be one of the strongest, maybe even as powerful (or more so) then Dumbledore, but he had been too young, still too inexperienced. The spell he had cast against his nemesis had been one of pure light and love, everything the dark wizard wasn't, and the strength Ron had given him had made it possible for him to wield the powerful magic to its fullest extent.

Something had changed that day, changed him more profoundly then he had imagined, but it had taken him a long time to realize it. In fact it took him just over a year to discover why he no longer felt exactly the same, and he learned what was different the moment they had stepped into Hogwarts and had seen Madame Pomfrey rushing towards them, her face full of dread. Ron had run away, she said forcefully, and Harry had felt a sudden terror that he couldn't explain. He spun around instantly and went back outside to see if he could find his friend. He didn't know why, and he hadn't been able to explain it at the time, but he had an overwhelming need to go outside. He had watched as the glass had fallen from the top of Gryffindor tower and Ron had flown away on his broom.

Harry had been as good as frozen to the spot, knowing that it was already too late to catch his best friend; that he had been beyond reach the second he had crawled out of the narrow tower window. Since that day Harry had not gone more then a few hours before cursing himself for leaving Ron's bedside. Ron's family, though they denied it and tried to convince themselves that it had been out of their control, also blamed themselves.

It had been exhausting sitting hour after hour by Ron's side; he had been depleting them of their energy without even being aware of what he was doing. This hadn't bothered Harry, he felt that Ron could take as much energy as he needed, it was a fair trade seeing as he was in the hospital for saving Harry's life. Harry had awoken shortly after the attempt to take his life in Hogsmeade; he had found himself surrounded by half the Weasley family, while the other half had been around Ron. He hadn't thought to wonder how the entire (and there was no way the Weasley's could be considered a small family) family had arrived at the school so quickly; he had been overwhelmed with happiness at their presence. Then he learned of what Ron had done, and Dumbledore had explained to them all exactly what it had meant.

Ron was a chaneller. It took a bit of discussion for the information to fully sink in as they all mingled about the youngest Weasley boy's bed and took turns petting him, making sure he was truly there. Harry had known, he had known for a long time, that there was something very different about his best friend, but he hadn't understood until that moment. Everything had just seemed to fall into place: the battle with Voldemort, the way Ron hadn't died when the Barilog had been loosed, how he managed to summon things without a wand (though Harry had believed in Ron's ambidextrous magic for a short while) and, most of all, why he had stopped sleeping so much. It all finally made sense!

Harry had also been feeling a bit out of sorts since the battle; he hadn't exhausted himself thinking about it, but it had bothered him enough to ponder on the nights he couldn't sleep. His emotions would sometimes change without reason, he would be happily eating lunch when suddenly he felt unaccountably anxious, or nervous. Sometimes he even felt panic and fear, and then the emotions would disappear as though they had never been apart of him. He had shrugged them off, ignored them, because what else could he do? He'd started feeling more aware of his surroundings, sometimes (though it wasn't often) he would know who was about to enter a room before they did so. That had scared him a bit, but he hadn't mentioned it to Ron because he knew his friend was having enough trouble adapting to his loss of sixth sense and it would be cruel to throw Harry's feelings in his face. He hadn't mentioned it to Hermione because an opportune moment had never arisen.

Then there had been the moments when he had felt as though he was missing something, as though he was no longer a whole person. It was just a very faint ache in his entire being that he could ignore through distraction before he would suddenly realize that the ache was gone and he couldn't account for where or why it went away. Hormones, he had figured, and shrugged it off.

After everything about Ron's plight had come to their attention and after the shocked denials, then acceptance and worry, they had all sat vigilantly, waiting for Ron to wake up. Harry had sat there along with everyone else and knew that when Ron woke up he was going to get an ear full about keeping secrets from his family, but somehow Harry knew that his best mate wouldn't mind. No, he figured Ron would be too relieved at knowing they didn't hate or fear him to care that they lectured. However, after almost an entire twenty-four hours spent about the hospital wing they were all beginning to drop like flies in the vicinity of a stink bomb. Pomfrey had almost literally kicked them out of her ward, telling them to come back after the quidditch match and not a moment before. If they didn't leave, she argued, they would be so strapped of energy Ron wouldn't get much of a welcoming committee. It was Dumbledore's agreement that had convinced them that they needed a break, so they had all left. That was when everything had gone wrong.

Standing on the ground of Hogwarts, Harry had looked into the sky, not even bothering to summon a broom and join the chase of his best friend, knowing he couldn't catch up. He had been staring intently in the distance, watching as the bodies became smaller and smaller, not even noticing as a crowd of people gathered around him, asking him what was going on. He ignored them, he even ignored Ron's parents as they stepped up beside him and followed his line of sight, gripping each others hands in worry. When Ron apparated Harry had felt it, in fact he had gasped at the suddenly bereft feeling that engulfed him. That part of himself that he sometimes felt he was missing, had just disappeared again, with Ron. Ron, it seemed, had given Harry a part of himself the year before, and every moment Harry wasn't greatly distracted he felt his friends loss heavily; it was a hollow place within him that ached, and it was worse then ever because he had no idea where his friend was.

"He's gone." He had uttered, but he couldn't really explain how he knew as the tears had escaped his impossibly green eyes and he stared at the two remaining dots in the sky. He didn't know when they would get their fiery tempered, lanky, freckled redhead back, but Harry was absolutely adamant that they would. When that happened Harry was going to make sure the redhead never, ever, had cause to disappear again. It just hurt too much.

"Harry?" Hermione called out into the darkness suddenly as she appeared from the dark stairwell off to his right. He had felt her approaching before she had reached him, but he didn't turn around, too busy looking out the window, staring intently at the star speckled sky. He could feel her frown as she stared at him in question. "What are you doing up here? The banquet isn't even a third over and you've already retreated, that won't look very good to the ambassadors." Harry couldn't help a smirk at that.

"Oh Merlin forbid I upset some ambassadors that barely know who I am."

"You know what I mean." She huffed and stepped up beside him, leaning against the wide tower window and looking out. Above them the owls hooted and crooned softly from their perches. "The ministry wants to show you off, which is in fact the only reason we're here." Harry had received the invitation/order to attend this summit at Hogwarts months ago, and he had insisted that Hermione go as well. There were ministry officials from various different countries in the United Kingdom and Europe who had come to England to discuss future politics and the upcoming election for a new minister in England (Fudge wasn't happy about that, and he was even less happy when Harry outright refused to acknowledge him during introductions earlier that evening.). As an acclaimed 'war hero' Harry had been asked to attend, even though it cut into his training as an Auror. In fact political meetings were taking place all week at the ministry building in London, but several ministers had expressed an interest in seeing the illustrious Hogwart's school that Harry had been educated in; that was why they had all gathered to eat amongst the students and staff this evening. This was the first time either he or Hermione had been back to Hogwart's since Ron's disappearance.

"It's strange, being back here." She stated softly, as though reading his mind as she shifted lightly on her heels.

"It's not the same without him." Harry muttered.

"Nothing's the same without him Harry, but we can't dwell on that. He'll be back one day." He nodded silently, and rubbed his stomach a moment in irritation. "Is your stomach still bothering you?"

"Only slightly. I can't figure it out, it's nothing I've eaten and Molly checked to see if I was sick, which I'm not."

"It must just be cramps then."

"Yes I suppose, it's just one of those things us wizards have to suffer through."

"At least it's not once a month."

"Oh, Hermione! Seriously, I don't want to know about that."

"It's a natural state of being Harry you know that, and besides you're the one who brought it up." He pointedly ignored her, not wanting to risk this conversation going any further. Hermione was great, he couldn't imagine life without her, but there were some things men just didn't discuss with girls unless they were seriously dating or married. Honestly. She didn't say anything else, thankfully, but he could sense her smiling at his discomfort and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he continued looking out at the horizon, feeling the need to see as far as he could but not sure why. The dinner had only just begun downstairs with all the ministers and ambassador's seated at their special guest table and surrounded by children, but Harry had felt this nagging to come up to the owlry and search the skyline. He didn't want to go back down to the party where he would be bombarded with questions about how he defeated Voldemort and other such nonsense, he needed to be here.

"What are you doing up here Harry?" Hermione asked again, breaking the silence after what must have been ten minutes.

"I don't know; I just couldn't stand being down there any more."

"I know it's tedious, but you really ought to be there. If it's any consolation Dumbledore wants to meet with us after the meal, we can escape while all the government officials play politely and gossip."

"Thank goodness for small mercies. If I have to sit and put up with Fudge bragging about our accomplishments any longer I just might hex him, irreversibly."

"Are you learning irreversibles now? How exciting! It is funny how undeterred Fudge is by your blatant disapproval of him."

"Well, considering that Dumbledore has been giving him the cold shoulder ever since he threatened Ron I suppose he has a lot of practice with being ignored."

"Not as much as he needs, stupid git." Harry grinned at the fierceness in her tone, and threw his arm affectionately over her shoulder. Over the last year and a half Hermione had (with a sneakiness very unbecoming of her) been investigating into Fudge's past questionable dealings within the ministry and slowly leaking the information to the public. She had only confided her rebellious acts to Harry, but he was pretty sure that Snape and McGonagall had recognized her haughty writing style within the Daily Prophets anonymous section. The fact that Severus Snape had actually smiled thinly (and rather painfully) upon their arrival that afternoon was enough to show his approval.

"Come on." Harry sighed, beginning to feel the cold of the tower seep under his dress robes. "Let's get back to the party." He looked uneasily out the window one last time before steering Hermione to the door and they headed back down the familiar stairs to the Great Hall. He was glad she could come to the summit, because he really hadn't wanted to come back here alone.

"You've been awfully jumpy all night Harry. Have the twins threatened to embarrass you somehow?"

"Not since last Sunday, mind you Molly overheard and I doubt they'll risk anything until at least another week has past."

"So what's bothering you?"

"I don't know." He answered truthfully, seeing no reason to lie as Hermione had picked up on his agitation. "I've been feeling a bit on edge these last few days, maybe even since my stomach started to hurt."

"There's no reason to be on edge." She said, frowning. He could practically hear the gears in her mind turning the problem over, trying to think of reasons for his feelings when even he couldn't make heads or tails of them.

"I know that Hermione, but I can't help how I feel can I?"

"No, I suppose not. Do you think it's a premonition?" He laughed out loud at that, though he tried to stifle it as she lightly elbowed him in the side. "I'm being serious Harry."

"No Hermione, it's not a premonition. I haven't had visions of any sort since Voldemort died." He felt her shudder slightly under his arm but ignored it, knowing she was remembering the final battle.

"Ah, there you are Sir Potter." A friendly voice interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to see the corporeal body of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington slip through the ceiling and float down to meet them. Harry blinked at the title but didn't question the ghost as he smiled, looking between them. "Ah, sorry to interrupt your little romantic stroll, but I do believe I heard the Ministergrumbling about your absence." Hermione lifted her chin and stepped out from under Harry's arm, her red and gold embroidered robes flaring perfectly with her every movement.

"Harry and I are not on a romantic stroll Sir Nicholas."

"Of course not Miss Granger, it was impolite to jump to such conclusions." His eyes twinkled merrily and he winked at Harry, who grinned back cheekily. "However, I say you two should probably head back to the great hall, especially as Peeves left there about ten minutes ago and is no doubt looking for victims." The resident ghost of Gryffindor tower stated with bored certainty before smiling brightly again and bidding them farewell. His apparition floated on down the stone corridor towards the dining hall ahead of them, and Hermione glared at Harry.

"What?"

"You know what Harry Potter. It's rude to mislead people."

"I didn't say anything." He defended, as they started walking once more, their footsteps echoing loudly.

"That's beside the point."

"He isn't even a person." Harry exclaimed.

"He was once Harry! And he still has all the emotions of one." She tried to keep a straight face before grinning slightly and shaking her head. "Victor won't be happy if this news gets into the paper." Victor Krum was Hermione's current beau, and had been for over half the year, but he still tended to get a bit green when people joked about Harry and Hermione being a couple.

"I doubt the paper would care about our current relationship with this summit going on."

"Harry, the paper cares about anything that has your name in it."

"True." He agreed and they entered the loud and cheerfully decorated great hall. Harry instantly looked to the head table, as he had his entire life at Hogwarts, and nodded at Dumbledore and McGonagall who were smiling in his direction. Then he let his eyes drift briefly across the Slytherin table before he remembered that they weren't actually students anymore, and therefore Malfoy wouldn't need to be scouted out.

"You know." Harry said, looking over to the Gryffindor table and recognizing a lot of the younger students. "Being here doesn't necessarily mean we need to be with the ministry." Hermione looked at him, looked over at the Gryffindor table and together they went and sat down in between two very surprised seventh years. It wasn't the same, Harry reflected again, but it was nice to see the familiar faces.

They had been sitting for half an hour, stoutly ignoring the glares that Minister Fudge was sending their way, and happily listening to recounts of the last quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, when Harry felt it. He jerked slightly in his seat and sat straighter, an intense look overcoming his face, and even though most at the table didn't notice his sudden inattention, Hermione did.

"What is it?" She muttered softly into his ear, following Harry's gaze and looking over to the door. He didn't answer her as he continued to stare unseeingly, feeling the slight perspiration gather at his brow as he sat in shock and disbelief, wondering if what he was feeling was true or if he was simply beginning to lose his mind; because a few moments before something inside him had shifted, and clicked back into place. His instinct was telling him that only Ron's presence would cause such a change within.

"Harry?" She squeezed his arm gently, trying to call him back, and he shivered a moment and broke his stare, turning back to her. "What is it Harry?" Her tone was soft, but commanding and he felt compelled to answer.

"I'm not positive Hermione, but I think…I think Ron's here."

"What?" She yelped, surprising a few students out of their conversation a moment before they went back to talking quidditch. It was funny how, even after two years of being absent, the students found it so easy to adapt to the oddities of Harry and his friends. Hermione sat up straighter and looked around the room quickly before turning back to Harry. "Harry, I don't think Ron's here…"

"No, not in here, but here! He's close by Hermione! We've got to go and find him." By now the tension and the sudden excitement at possibly seeing his best friend again was coursing through his body and making his hands shake, but Hermione was looking at him with worry and her hand was gripping his arm securely.

"Harry, he's not here, this is the last place he's likely to show up at." She tried to convince him, worry igniting in her eyes like it had on those various evenings when Harry had locked himself in his flat to polish off a bottle of firewhisky and blame himself for his friend's absence. He looked at her now and tried to convey as much rationality as he could in his eyes.

"Hermione, trust me when I say I'd know if Ron was around."

"Ron?" Piped in a seventh year girl with dreamy dark chocolate coloured eyes and shiny brown hair. "I was wondering if he would turn up tonight, you three hardly went anywhere without the other. You say he's coming?" Harry ignored her, staring at Hermione and trying to convey that he hadn't lost his marbles. She searched his eyes a moment and then exhaled, nodding.

"Fine, I believe you." She didn't release his arm but looked back out among the crowd, glancing briefly at the head table to see if any of them knew what was going on. Harry saw that they were all happily enjoying their feast and laughing together as though everything was perfectly fine, which struck him as odd considering how his own life had just changed so suddenly. He glanced back at the door then, as the familiar aura of his long lost best friend became stronger and stronger and then, quietly, the great door slid open a bit and a lone figure, unnoticed by most, slipped quietly into the room.

TBC