Chapter Twenty-Two

Ginny didn't go downstairs until almost noon the next day. Sleep had been difficult after Harry had gone, and when she did sleep her dreams were restless. She awoke feeling like she hadn't slept for more than a few hours.

She had slept right through her alarm and wondered why Remus hadn't come to wake her for her lessons. The only thing Remus was a stickler about was punctuality, and she was sure she would hear about it when she got downstairs.

She got ready quickly. At least at Hogwarts she could have come up with any one of a hundred excuses, or cracked out Fred and George's emergency snack box designed to make anyone sick long enough to miss a full day of lessons, but Remus wouldn't fall for any of that.

She bounded down the stairs, coming to a halt just outside the kitchen. Remus was sitting at the table with Harry, and to her astonishment Dumbledore was there as well.

Dumbledore noticed her first and gave her a warm smile. "Ah, Miss Weasley, I'm glad you're able to join us. I hope we weren't too loud before."

Normally, she would have exchanged pleasantries with Dumbledore, but the serious air in the room gave her the distinct impression that this was why Remus had not come upstairs to get her. She saw the severe look on Remus's face, but Harry wouldn't meet her gaze. This was bad. She knew what Harry had done. She just had a hard time believing he would do something like this without even talking to her first.

"Harry has expressed his concerns that he's affecting you his empath abilities," Dumbledore started off. "Would you be able to give us an example of this?"

"He's already told you everything, hasn't he?" Ginny snapped, glancing at Harry. She took some satisfaction in the fact that he flinched at the coldness in her voice.

"Yes, Harry has explained to us his version of certain events, but I would also like to hear the details first hand from you."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Harry said that Remus affects you as well. Can you please describe that and when those feelings happened."

"I hurt all over," she started slowly. "It felt like my body was changing. I'm sorry, I don't really know how to describe it," she said, feeling stupid.

"That's quite all right," Dumbledore assured her. "Can you tell me when you felt like this?"

She didn't see how that was important. "It was last week sometime. I don't know the exact date." She looked at Remus, who now wouldn't look at her either.

"I believe what you experienced was linked to Remus's transformation," said Dumbledore. "It was a full moon last week and the symptoms you are describing match with that. The change is excruciatingly painful even with Wolfsbane."

Before Ginny could begin to comprehend what he was saying, he was already asking another question. "Can you think of any other incidents?"

"When I was at St. Mungo's I felt sick," she answered.

"That must have been a horrible ordeal for you," Dumbledore said in understanding. "All those people sick and in pain."

"What does all this mean?" Ginny figured she had been patient enough. She wasn't going to answer any more questions until some of her own got answered.

"It seems that however unintentionally, Harry may have passed on his empath abilities to you, albeit they're somewhat limited. You can't feel everything like Harry can. You're only capable of picking up on the strongest emotions, pain being one of them. From what Harry's described, it would seem that your connection to him is the strongest."

Ginny thought she might die of humiliation if Dumbledore made her describe what Harry made her feel when they were together. Thankfully, he must have gotten enough information from Harry and was not going to embarrass them both by asking her the same questions.

"I have already discussed this with Harry, and I think it would be best if you put some distance between yourselves for awhile."

This was why Harry was avoiding looking at her. It wasn't because he had gone to Remus and Dumbledore. It was because they had told him he would have to stay away from her.

"There's a very good chance that the link will sever itself once you've been apart," Dumbledore told them both.

"What if it doesn't?" She steadied herself for the answer.

"As Harry's powers are directly linked to Voldemort, the connection you share may not disappear until Voldemort is no more. I'm sorry, Miss Weasley, but there is no definite answer for a situation as unique as this," said Dumbledore, sounding apologetic. "But in order to keep this from getting out of control, it's best to err on the side of caution, which means you and Harry shouldn't have any contact unless it's absolutely necessary."

She didn't even get a say in what was going on. Dumbledore and Harry had made the decision and now they just expected her to go along with it. Dumbledore had just dropped all this information on her, not even giving her a chance to take any of it in.

Harry's chair scraped against the floor and he stood up. "I'll leave," he said to no one in particular.

When he made it to Ginny, he didn't pause or hesitate before walking on passed her.

Ron swore, wishing for the hundredth time he had taken his mum up on her countless offers to teach him laundry charms. Now he was stuck doing it the bloody muggle way.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

He nearly jumped out his skin. "Jesus, Hermione, give a bloke a heart attack, why don't you?"

"I thought it was impossible to sneak up on Aurors."

Ron thought he detected a hint of smugness in her tone and he didn't like that at all. "I was distracted," he said, slightly flustered that she was able to sneak up on him.

"I can see that," she said, eyeing his mountain of laundry. "Is that your Auror robes?" She pointed to one pile in particular.

"Yeah. I do wash them, you know."

"You can't wash them with your white shirts, you'll turn them dark blue."

"So what? I like black."

She rolled her eyes. "You really are impossible."

Ron smirked. "Not really. I just like getting you all riled up. But hey, if you're so concerned about the well being of my clothes, by all means feel free to do my laundry."

Hermione looked scandalized. "Your mum would have kittens if she saw you trying to pin your dirty laundry on me."

"Yeah, but she's not here."

Hermione threw one of the shirts from the basket in his face. She was going to laugh, when she recognized the crimson coloured splotches on it. "Is that blood?"

She looked slightly horrified so Ron tried to shrug off her concern. "It goes with the job. It's nothing I'm not used to."

"It's not something to joke about," she said, frowning.

"So what brings you by here anyways or was it just to comment on my lacking domestic skills?" He said, changing the subject.

"I wanted to run something by you," she started, watching him fill up the washing machine. "What do you think of the idea of you and me going to the Christmas Ball – together?"

Ron's hand stopped in mid air. He looked at her and said, "together?"

She nodded. "As friends."

"As friends?"

"Ron, stop repeating everything I say," she said, sounding slightly exasperated.

"Sorry," he apologized, scratching the back of his head. "I just wasn't expecting you to ask me."

"So you don't want to go?" She was already feeling the beginnings of humiliation setting in. Why had she let Ginny and Tonks talk her into this?

"No, that's not it at all," he said quickly, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. "It's just you and I don't exactly have a great track record when it comes to these things. We seem to be in a worse off state when they're over."

"Maybe it's because we've never actually gone to one together," she said, repeating the advice Ginny had given her.

Ron considered this. "Okay, let's go together. But if this ball turns out badly, I am never going to one of these things again."

Hermione whole-heartedly agreed. She would swear off all balls, dances and any other functions for the rest of her life.

"What are you wearing?" Ron tried to ask casually.

"I haven't decided yet," she said, coyly.

"I really liked those blue dress robes you wore to the Yule Ball in fourth year."

"You did?"

He nodded. "I'll never forget how you looked in it because it made me feel like such a git for not realizing until that moment how beautiful you are."

She felt her face flush. "Ron…"

"What? A friend can't compliment another friend?" He said innocently.

She supposed there wasn't any real harm in it, but hearing Ron talk about her like that just made their current situation even harder.

"Harry," she breathed in surprise.

Ron frowned. She was thinking about Harry at that moment? Then he noticed Hermione was looking passed him. He turned and saw his best mate with a scowl planted on his face before he walked off. Hermione turned an expectant look on him, as if he was supposed to know why Harry was in another one of his moods.

"You know Harry, he's always brooding about something," Ron said, even though he had a fair idea what was at least partially responsible for his mood. He sighed. "Look, it probably has to do with that blood on my shirt."

Hermione looked stricken. "Were you were patrolling together? Is Harry all right?"

"No, it's not like that," he said evasively. "We should be honest with each other, right?"

"Of course, Ron," she said, not quite understanding what he was getting at.

He took a deep breath. "We found out the Aurors are keeping Jack Anderson in Bristol. It used to be a shop called Kippers but since then it's been converted into a Ministry safe house for prisoners awaiting trial."

Hermione took a step back from him. "Ron, please tell me you and Harry didn't do anything."

"After what that bastard did to you – "

"Don't even tell me that you did this for me." She wasn't sure whether to be disgusted or outraged.

She shoved Ron aside, which was not an easy feat by any means and stormed into the kitchen where Harry was standing at the counter drinking a cup of coffee. Ron hurried in behind her.

"What did you guys do make some kind of 'protect Hermione' pact when I wasn't looking?" She exploded at Harry. "What were you thinking going after Anderson?"

Harry looked accusingly at Ron, who could only shrug. He had only been following Harry's advice. If he kept this from Hermione and she found out later, he doubted she would ever speak to him.

"Hermione, what's done is done," Harry said calmly and that enraged Hermione further.

"How can you talk like that? I expected Ron to do something like this, but I at least thought you would try to stop him, not join in. Did you think about what could happen to your careers as Aurors if someone found out?"

"Hermione, no one's going to find out. It's not like we killed the bastard. We just roughed him up a bit," Ron said in a vain attempt to calm her down.

"The two of you are unbelievable!" She exclaimed. "I'm not going to have my best friends throw their lives away because they think they're protecting me."

The mug Harry was holding exploded in his hands, sending shards of ceramic and coffee flying in every direction. Harry's own temper seemed to explode along with it. "You're one to talk about throwing a life away. That's exactly what you were doing all that time you were hooked on magic."

"Maybe we shouldn't – "

"That's how this damn whole thing with magic got started," Harry cut Ron off. "You wanted to do the sacrificial spell and Ron and I agreed because at least that way we would know what you were doing. After that, you must have figured you could do anything, and you started digging up books on what Lupin says is borderline dark magic when you already knew how magic like that changes a person. You were always telling us off, saying that magic isn't a crutch or something to take for granted, and then you go and get yourself addicted to it."

"Harry, that's enough," Ron warned.

"You want to know what the worst part is?" He continued, his voice shaking now. "You were drowning and we didn't even notice."

Grabbing a dishcloth, Harry wrapped it around the hand that had been holding the cup when it exploded. He walked straight passed Ron and Hermione without looking at them, stopping only long enough to slam the door to his bedroom shut, causing the lights in the house to flicker briefly.

Hermione left the house in a similar fashion, leaving Ron alone to deal with mess left behind.

Remus Lupin was rather surprised when he found Hermione sitting alone in the study, curled up with a book. She looked very much like she was trying to concentrate, but with little success.

"Interesting read?"

Her head snapped up to see him standing in the doorway. "It's better than that rubbish Ginny reads – don't tell her I said that," she added as an afterthought.

Remus had an impressive collection of old literature both by wizard and muggle authors, some dating back hundreds of years. Normally she would have been enthralled at the chance to go through such a collection, but she had other things on her mind.

"I thought you'd be at Harry's," Remus observed. "Isn't that muggle show you like on?"

"I thought with the Order meeting I would just stay here."

"Do you want to know what we discussed?"

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"I didn't tell you not to attend Order meetings as a form of punishment. I just wanted to make sure you focused on what was more important."

"We're in the middle of war. I don't feel right sitting here, doing nothing when everyone else is contributing one way or another."

"Your recovery is important, Hermione."

She didn't say anything, but her look conveyed her doubt.

"I know I've been incredibly hard on you," Lupin began, "and the reason for it is because out of everyone I expected you to obey the rules of magic. I didn't think you would ever cross that line and that's what blinded me from seeing what was really happening with you."

"So I turned out to be a big disappointment then?"

"You're not a disappointment. You did make some rather bad decisions though, and now you're being forced to deal with them. Hermione, the point I'm trying to make is when you set someone up to be perfect, you're setting yourself up for disappointment because there is no such thing as perfect."

She took her old Professor's words to heart, and she felt the need to confess something. "I overheard you and Tonks talking about me." She shook her head ruefully. "I've gone from magic abuser to professional eavesdropper. Not much of an improvement, is it?"

Lupin didn't look at all upset by her admission. "If your eavesdropping was done without the aid of magic or some Weasley twin creation, then I believe I've made my point to Tonks," he said with a gentle smile.

"That's not the reason Tonks stopped coming around here is it?" She inquired.

"No, that's not it. We can both sometimes be too stubborn for our own good."

"As in too stubborn to go to the Christmas Ball together?" Hermione said in a not so subtle way.

"Stick with eavesdropping, Hermione. It's far less complicated," he said and left the room.