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CHAPTER 15

Libraries were supposed to promote concentration for one's studies, but Hermione had been staring at the same page of her Arithmancy book for the last fifteen minutes. The sun had long been set, so there was a calming gray-blue light cast about the shelves and tables from the moon and stars. There was a window open, letting in a cold breeze to stir with the heat from the fires. It was completely silent except for the occasional turn of a page or scuffing of a book being taken from a shelf. And, there was the lovely smell of aged pages waiting to be read.

But, all of these wonderful qualities of the library also made it easy for Hermione to fixate on the conversation she had had with her friends at lunch. It was hard to truly believe that Voldemort, the horrible monster she'd read so much about since her youth, was at large. He was back! He and his followers were killing innocent people…

"Hey…"

Hermione jumped slightly at Ron's low whisper. They were seated at a small table toward the center of the library, and he was looking at her with one eyebrow raised from across the table.

"Hermione, I'm finding it hard to believe that you're still on that same page…" He said worriedly. Hermione's heart sighed. Ron had been acting so sweetly toward her all day. Starting after Healing class when he'd whisked her away to the safety of their tower…and then to the common room where he'd suggested that they play chess to relieve her mind…and still now, as he did his homework by her side in her favorite study area. She knew that he would rather be sitting in front of the fire in their common room, but he had suggested that they come here. Harry had been invited, but of course, he was out 'walking the corridors.'

"Ron…" Hermione whispered, looking into his eyes. "I'm really worried about Harry."

Ron shook his head slowly, "I think he's just…well, he told me that he feels like he should be doing something."

"Doing something?" Hermione asked inquisitively, leaning forward; she hadn't heard this…

"Yeah…you know...like…joining the Order and being a part of the…well…the action."

"Action?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Ron, how can you refer to it like it's some sort of game?"

"Hermione…" Ron said sternly, "You know I didn't mean it like that. I just mean that he feels like he needs to stop sitting around on his a-…on his rear…and help fight."

"Do you feel that way?" Hermione asked hesitantly. She couldn't bear to see Ron going into 'action.'

He shrugged with a frown, "Well, I think it's up to Harry…"

"No, Ron…I meant…do you feel like you should be helping, too?"

Ron had been looking at her intently, but as she finished her question he leaned back slightly and looked away. Looking down at his hands on the table he said, "I do want to help…but…"

"But?" Hermione prompted trying to still her heart from its hopeful flutter. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his face and ears turning a bright pink. What was the matter with him?

"I've grown up with nine people under one roof…sometimes it's bloody annoying, but at other times…it's brilliant." He said, still looking down at his hands, which he was twisting nervously. Hermione's stomach suddenly felt sick…he was still worried about living up to his brothers…

"Ron, you don't have to go looking to fight a Death Eater just to prove yourself." She said softly.

He looked up with a weak smile, his face still pink, before looking back down at his hands. "No … Hermione … I was going to say that I…well, I want a family, you know? I mean…I have a family, but I want another one…no. That's not what I mean…I…I guess in the future it would be nice if…well, if I had…had…"

"You want to get married and have children someday." Hermione said quietly…trying to sound casual as a strange lump formed in her throat. Did she want to cry or smile? Ron looked up at her, his shade of pink deepening to red.

"Yeah…I guess what I'm trying to say is that I worry a lot about Dad…and I know Mum worries more than I do. And, he's not even an Auror or anything. That'sone ofthe reasons I chose the logistics path. It's weird, you know? There's a part of me that feels like I should, and even want to,be a fighter…but then the other part of me wants to…"

BOOM!

Hermione gasped so strongly, her head felt chest throbbed with pain. A resounding boom had just shaken the very floor beneath her feet; her entire torso seemed to have shaken along with it. Ron was suddenly standing up and coming around the table toward her. She stood up as well. And suddenly, her mind decided to switch from confused to scared. She gripped Ron's forearm.

"Ron…wha-…"

BOOM! … distant screams …

Ron immediately pulled her down hard to squat on the floor. Hermione was staring into his face, but his eyes were darting around the room like mad as he grabbed hold of her hand.

"Smoke…" He breathed. Hermione traced his line of sight to the open library window… out over the lake…smoke. Ron looked down at her fretfully. "Hermione…I think…I think it's Hogsmeade."

"What?" Hermione whispered back; her chest heaving up and down with the beating of her heart.

"Students? Are there any students present?"

Hermione looked up to see tiny Professor Flitwick's shockingly white-haired head just over the tops of the tables.

"We're here!" Hermione called. She saw his head bobbing quickly over to where her and Ron were crouched. His eyes were opened wide and a bit frantic when he came upon them.

"Are you two the only students in the library?" He asked in a slightly squeaky, yet deeply concerned voice.

"We don't know for sure…but I don't think there are any others." Ron said hurriedly, still grasping firmly to Hermione's hand.

Flitwick began nodding his head very quickly. "Well, I'll have a look around. Both of you get straight to your common rooms. No dilly-dallying. If you see anyone in the corridors, tell them the same!"

Ron and Hermione stood up quickly and Hermione found herself being rushed out of the library, down the corridor, and up the staircase by a firm-faced, rapidly-moving Ron. The whole while all Hermione could think about was that horrible booming sound, the black, billowing smoke…and those dreadful, horrified screams…

What's wrong with my legs? I've got to go faster! Ron was wheezing with every breath as he pulled Hermione along behind him up the staircase. There were students and teachers going up and coming down…where had they all come from?

Ron kept glancing back to make sure Hermione was following okay. Maybe I should just pick her up and run! The hand Ron had entwined with Hermione's was so clammy he was afraid Hermione's hand might slide loose. No…Ron's hand felt as though it were being crushed beneath her tiny fingers…she wasn't letting go…

Finally, the corridor...he pulled Hermione along in haste. The Fat Lady! Why weren't these people moving? There were about fifteen people just standing there…the Fat Lady was yelling something. What was going on?

Still clasping firmly to Hermione's hand, Ron began pushing his way through. Dean Thomas was crushed in the middle of the group, yelling loudly, "Move! Move, you bloody idiots! Ron! Hermione!" He turned a thankful look upon them. "I can't get these stinking munchkins to move!"

"Prefects! Move!" Ron shouted… it worked…mostly. Some of the students were crying and just standing there! "Move!" He shouted once more.

"Oh dear…oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" The Fat Lady was nervously looking around at all the students. "Mr. Prefect, dear! The children have given me the correct password, but I don't have room to open! Oh dear, oh dear…"

Ron turned around to face the fearful students. "You've got to move back!" Ron shouted commandingly. Everyone looked at him in surprise.

"MOVE!" Hermione bellowed suddenly stomping her foot. Immediately everyone began backing away…should he? She looked quite scary…and her voice had sounded way too much like McGonagall's just then…scary.

Ron and Hermione then scooted back and allowed the portrait to open. He pulled her away from the door to let the others in first for fear that they would get trampled if he didn't. Everyone piled in immediately, except for Dean, who insisted that Ron and Hermione go in ahead of him.

Ron walked in with Hermione in tow. All of the Gryffindors seemed to be crowded inside the common room. Ron had never seen it this packed. Some were stony-faced, some were crying, some were screaming, some were comforting others… Suddenly Ron saw a redhead weaving her way toward them. A teary-eyed and frantic-looking Ginny pulled him and Hermione into a strong hold before pulling back and taking Ron's free hand; her grip was just as strong as Hermione's.

"Ron! Where's Harry?" She cried.

"Harry…" Hermione breathed beside him. She was looking desperately into Ron's eyes. Ron's stomach clenched painfully. Where was Harry? Ginny and Hermione looked so horrified.

"I'll go look for him." He said trying to pull his hands away from them.

"NO!" They screamed together.

"No, Ron. You can't leave this common room." Ginny said sternly. Hermione was shaking her head at him.

"Alright, alright…I'm not going anywhere. Let's just…let's go find a seat." He said softly. Still holding tightly to their hands he walked with both of them to a clear area in front of a bookshelf. All the seats were full so they sunk down to the floor and leaned their backs against the shelving.

They were all sitting Indian-style on the warm carpeting. Ron had their hands resting in his lap and each of them had their heads resting on his shoulders. Hermione was to his right; Ginny to his left. Neither of them were crying, yet he could feel the fear in them…or was that his fear?

Suddenly, Ginny lifted her head and freed her hand from Ron's. She then stood up quickly. Ron looked up to see Harry walking over to them from the portrait hole door. He had his hands shoved into his pockets and he was extremely pale.

Hermione stood up as well, and Ron reluctantly released her hand, as he followed, pushing up from the ground. Hermione and Ginny both ran to Harry and hugged him tightly. Ron stood his ground, but he felt a rush of relief at the sight of his best friend.

Suddenly, as the students in the common room took sight of Harry's arrival, it seemed to get much quieter. The Sorting Hat had told them all that there was a wizard here at Hogwarts that had to win a fight in order to save their world. Ron was sure that no one had forgotten that song; just as sure as he was that not everyone believed that wizard to be Dumbledore…actually, most of them probably didn't believe that at all.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione all walked back over to where Ron was standing and the volume of the room slowly began to increase to its original level. Harry then began talking in a bland whisper. "I was on the first floor when the explosions went off. Dumbledore was at the Entrance doors in a matter of seconds; I don't know how he got down the stairs so fast…but he began shouting orders to every teacher he saw. I heard him telling Filch to lock down the castle…McGonagall was told to inform the other teachers to get the students to their common rooms."

"What took you so long?" Hermione asked suddenly … anxiously. Harry looked at her with a frown.

"I asked Dumbledore to tell me what was going on. All he said was that I needed to get to this tower and that the Order had already been summoned." Harry sounded resentful.

Ron felt his stomach turn sickly; Ginny suddenly started weeping. "A-a-all of the Order?" She asked sobbing. Harry looked at her apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." Harry said softly. "I know McGonagall is staying here at Hogwarts…surely there are others who weren't called."

"You're just saying that, Harry…I'm not stupid…" Ginny said harshly, wiping her eyes. "McGonagall has to stay with us…but my…my…" She suddenly buried her face completely in her hands; Harry had an aggrieved look on his face as he reached a hand toward her. Ginny abruptly turned herself toward Harry and buried her face in his chest. Harry closed his eyes with an intensely pained expression before wrapping his arms around her.

Ron began rubbing his forehead with one hand. Dad… Mum… Bill… Charlie… Fred… George… He took a deep breath as Hermione asked in a small voice, "What about Dumbledore, Harry? Did he leave?"

Harry shook his head, Ginny still wrapped in his arms; her shoulders shaking with sobs, "He says he'll only leave if the Order sends for him…only if things get out of hand…or… if Voldemort's there."

Ginny looked up at Harry suddenly and pounded him once on the chest with her fist. "Don't say his name! Not now!" She whispered frantically. Harry looked miserable as he pressed Ginny's head gently back down to his chest. She didn't resist, but grabbed handfuls of Harry's shirt as she continued to weep.

Ron knew Harry well enough to guess at the main reason for his misery. Harry knew that every day that Voldemort remained alive and strong, every innocent person that was killed on Voldemort's orders…Harry held the burden of that death…Harry blamed himself. Ron knew, however, that Harry couldn't just go find Voldemort and murder him now that he knew the prophecy. It just wasn't going to work that way. For one thing, they didn't know where Voldemort was hiding, and for another, Harry wasn't ready…Voldemort was the second most powerful wizard in the world…but he had to be the third before Harry could go rushing after him.

"Harry," Ron said tentatively, "There's nothing you can do right now."

"Isn't there?" Harry asked heatedly. "Ron I can't just sit here and not feel that…"

"But Harry, you weren't even supposed to hear the prophecy." Ron continued calmly, "Imagine that you didn't know about it yet…you wouldn't be rushing out to find him then…"

"Ron, I-…" Harry began but Hermione stepped up to stand between them, looking from one to the other.

"Stop this! Both of you!" She yelled. "I won't listen to this-…"

Suddenly, Ginny wrenched herself from Harry's arms, her face flushed, her eyes puffy. She looked at Hermione scornfully, "Hermione, you stop!" She said sternly. Hermione took a step back from her. "Open your eyes! Don't you understand what it does to Harry every time you disregard the prophecy? He believes it, Hermione! I believe it, Dumbledore believes it, Ron believes it… It's his burden, not yours… you don't have the right to tell him to stop! Close your ears if you must, but open your damn eyes!"

Ginny just stood there breathing heavily, her tears ceased. Hermione looked completely taken off guard, as did Harry… and probably me, thought Ron. Ron had agreed with everything his sister had said, but there was still part of him that had wanted to tell her to stop yelling at Hermione. Although, he truly felt that Hermione needed to hear what Ginny had just said. It's what he had wanted to tell her earlier in the term…that day at the library when he'd had the idea to visit Hagrid instead.

Suddenly Hermione backed up to the bookshelf and sat down, lowering her head to her hands; her shoulders began shaking with sobs as Ginny's had just moments ago. Ron sat down slowly beside Hermione, and put his arm around her. With her head still in her hands, she leaned into the crook of his arm… Ron looked up at Harry and Ginny, who were both looking down at them sadly.

The door to the common room suddenly creaked open and Ron looked up to see a stony-faced McGonagall walk to the center of the room. Hermione looked up as well. Everyone fell totally silent.

"Hogsmeade has been attacked." She said plainly; no one spoke; a few gasped. "A large group of You-Know-Who's supporters apparated to the town, where they blasted two buildings, assaulted some bystanders, and then quickly disapparated."

Some muttering and whispering erupted about the room, but Dean Thomas stood up from the floor near the fireplace, as he exclaimed above everyone, "Why?"

McGonagall's stern expression did not falter as she turned to him. "Mr. Thomas these people will do anything to evoke terror into the Wizarding community. They want to be feared … in our fear they have more power."

"I'm not afraid!" Shouted Jack Sloper from across the room. "Why don't we just track down the bastards and hang them?" Dean nodded fervently in agreement.

McGonagall sighed heavily before continuing, "It's simply not that black and white, Mr. Sloper. But, there are a number of talented witches and wizards attempting, day in and day out, to find You-Know-Who and his supporters. However, what you and your fellow students need to do now is go up to your dormitories and rest."

"But what about the…the…Death Eaters?" Lavender Brown shouted, sounding on the verge of hysteria. "Sirius Black broke in here two years ago! Surely You-Know-Who's men could do it!" There was a mumbling of agreement. Ron noticed a muscle in Harry's jaw contract.

"I will be patrolling the corridor tonight, right outside. So there's no need to worry." McGonagall said calmly, "Besides, they have gone and are no doubt far from the castle, which, by the way, is completely secure."

No one really looked satisfied, and McGonagall seemed to notice. "Listen, I will be right outside the door. I will be listening to make sure that everyone is getting to sleep." She clasped her hands together and raised one eyebrow. "I will also be listening to make sure that there is no one camping out in the common room tonight…with sleeping bags such as these…" McGonagall retrieved her wand from her robes and conjured around thirty purple sleeping bags in a large pile. "…So, only for tonight, I will be listening for campers, which I would most assuredly never hear, anyway. So…right…goodnight…oh yes, and unless otherwise informed, classes will still be held tomorrow."

The portrait hole door opened and closed as McGonagall left the common room. Many of the younger students rushed forward to grab some sleeping bags, while many of the sixth and seventh year students headed up to their dormitories. Hermione was leaning into Ron's side, his strong arm around her shoulders. Her tears had ceased, but she still felt miserable.

Sadness, anger, guilt, fear…and confusion... Why did her friends believe this prophecy? Why couldn't they understand her take on it? Why was there a part of her…that felt that Ginny was right? And why were there people in the world so evil that they shed others' blood, simply because it differed from their own?

On top of these questions, Hermione was disgusted with herself for having one other… Was Ron only holding her tightly because he was comforting his friend? She'd seen the fear in his eyes when he looked at her… She knew he was thinking about her safety… Harry hadn't looked at her like that; Hermione didn't even think that Harry had been thinking about the dream. He was thinking about that prophecy; he was thinking about fighting. But Ron…he seemed to have been consumed with her ever since Sinistra's and Snape's Dark Marks had burned.

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up to see a timid-faced Colin Creevey, standing side-by-side with his younger brother, Dennis. "Um, do you know how to make more of those sleeping bags?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah," Hermione said, wiping at her eyes as she stood up from Ron's hold. "Just two?" She asked. Colin nodded.

Hermione took out her wand and conjured two sleeping bags, which Colin and Dennis thanked her for before rushing off to a corner with some other third and fourth years. Ron stood up beside her, and Ginny unexpectedly grabbed Hermione's hand. Hermione looked up into Ginny's sad expression.

"Hermione," Ginny began softly, "I'm sorry for yelling at you like that…I was just upset, and -…"

"No, it's okay." Hermione said with a weak smile. "We're all upset." Ginny nodded, attempting to return Hermione's smile.

"Well, I think I'm going to sleep in the dormitory." Harry muttered, "What about you three?"

"I'd like to stay down here." Ginny said, looking at Hermione. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I'll stay down here with the girls." Ron said quietly. Hermione looked up to see Harry nod appreciatively at Ron. Harry then said goodnight and left for the dormitory. Hermione knew he needed to be alone tonight, shielded by his curtains.

Hermione then conjured three sleeping bags before she, Ron, and Ginny found an empty space on the floor. Ron sat his bag in between hers and Ginny's. Each sleeping bag was a mere foot from its neighbor. Hermione couldn't stop the squirming of her stomach. She knew that it was excitement from the idea of sleeping so close to Ron, but under the circumstances, she really didn't feel like she should feel excited at all. What was wrong with her? Was she so selfish that her feelings of excitement would override her feelings of sympathy for the people of Hogsmeade…for Harry? Ginny had definitely implied that Hermione was being selfish…maybe she really was…maybe it was in her nature…

Ginny was already climbing into her sleeping bag, Ron and Hermione quickly followed. Hermione settled in, lying on her back…looking at the arched ceiling. She heard Ginny whispering something to Ron, followed by his low voice saying, "They're all fine, I'm sure…Dad will take care of all of them." More whispering from Ginny, followed by a low, "Sure."

Hermione turned her head to see Ron reaching a hand out to his sister, which she grabbed a hold of before closing her eyes and cuddling into her pillow. Hermione smiled to herself at Ron's affection and gentility with his sister…but she also felt a small pang of sadness. Ron cared for her and Ginny…but…in the same way? Was she just a sister to him? Would she ask herself this question until her dying day?

Ron slowly turned his head away from Ginny to look at Hermione. He was still holding Ginny's hand in between his and her sleeping bags, and by the sound of Ginny's breathing, she was already asleep.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly. For some reason, his tone made a lump form in Hermione's throat. She simply nodded. And then, to Hermione's surprise, Ron tentatively reached his hand toward her to lie in between their sleeping bags. She removed her hand from under her covers and extended it to rest in Ron's. He smiled weakly before turning his head to the ceiling and closing his eyes.

Hermione continued to stare at him, however. He wasn't really gripping her hand, but more so resting his on the floor for Hermione to hold on to. His hand was so warm, and although calloused in spots, his palm was mostly soft….youthful. Sixteen…lying there with his eyes closed, his expression frowning slightly, Hermione would say he looked in his twenties…and he was definitely beginning to act older than some of the sixteen year-olds she knew. But then again, there was something in fear and anxiety and the unknown….that seemed to age people. She could feel it too…

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, not much to say other than I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Please continue to review, and thanks for all the ones that have been sent! I've already got a lot of the next chapter written, but I need to tweak it... Stay tuned!