This chapter is crucial to figuring things out so I hope it satisfies all of you and things grow more intense!

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"Malfoy?" Ron repeats, "what about him Harry? What about Hermione?" He pleads.

"It was her, it was Hermione." He clarified.

"But I thought-" Neville starts.

"It's Voldemort, our connection or whatever. Hermione is the one who did it this time. She brought me up, he thought of me, and well." He explained with a shiver.

"But I thought he warned her. Said someone would d- someone would get hurt if she did that again." Ron asked worriedly, not wanting to even think about Hermione and death together.

Harry reluctantly nods, "I know but she had to tell me something."

"What was it?" Neville asked.

"Malfoy. That was all she said, it was like, it was like she couldn't speak properly. She sounded so..." he shivered, not willing himself to finish, "but that means I was right Ron, Malfoy, he's got something to do with all this." Though Draco wasn't specifically mentioned, Harry was desperate to push his theory.

Shockingly, Ron didn't protest, "Look, Harry, there's something I've been keeping from you."

The chosen one eyed him, silently imploring himself to go on.

"Well, since we've been back at school I reckon you might be right."

"Why?" Harry asks.

"That day on the train, during the Prefect's meeting, Malfoy told Katie Bell that Hermione was 'taking some time away with her family'," he air quoted, "at first I thought maybe he just heard us, I dunno, but then I started having these dreams."

"The ones that've been waking you up?" Neville cut in.

Ron nodded, "yeah, I mean I know it's just a dream, but every time it starts with Malfoy telling me he knows something about Hermione. That along with his fathers track record, your suspicions, and now this, well..."

"We need to check his room." Harry said, like it was simple.

"What? Harry, are you mental? How in the hell would we swing that." Ron cried out.

"No, listen," he stands from the floor, causing the other two to rise, "we know where the entrance is from second year. We'll make sure Malfoy is on rounds. I'll have the map to see if anyone's coming. We'll be under my cloak." Harry explains.

"Yeah and what about his roommates? Or the password?" Ron asks.

"He bunks with who? Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle? Well, there has to be a night Quidditch and rounds meet, yeah? We'll do it then. Neville, you can stay on the pitch just in case." Harry looks at him.

Neville nods. Sure, he hasn't got the full story on what happened, but he's willing to help anyway he can.

"Fine." Ron agreed, only doing this for Hermione and not to entertain Harry's theory, "when?"

"I don't know whenever it works with the Quidditch schedule and rounds."

"Here, I have the schedule. I need to know when the pitch is free to practice flying." Neville admits sheepishly as he searches his trunk for the parchment, "here it is!"

He hands it over to Harry as Ron grabs the prefect's schedule. They hold the two sheets side by side, Neville over their shoulder.

Ron meets his friend's eyes, "tomorrow."

...

The three wake early the next morning to go to the Great Hall. There, they work out their final details of the plan, like they did until late last night.

Harry's original thought was pretty solid, so it was all just building off that.

"Alright, after dinner. Six." Harry reminds again.

The pair nod.

"It's kind of exciting to be a part of this. Is it always this exhilarating?" Neville whispered.

A small smile found its way across the pair's face, "no." They answered simultaneously.

Surprisingly, the notion of having a third person that wasn't Hermione didn't bother Ron that much. Simply because it was Neville.

It's not like he was replacing her, he was helping out for her. It was something he admired, he knew she would too.

As Ron stretched and got ready for class, he didn't notice McGonagall approaching.

"Mister Weasley." She called, making him go stalk still.

"Good morning Professor." He tried.

She ignored it, but didn't yell at him for yesterday either, "the Headmaster requests your presence. The password is cockroach clusters."

He gulps. He thinks he'd rather face McGonagall's wrath than get a talking to by Dumbledore.

She looks him in the eyes, "I'm going to assume you had good reason for that stunt in the common room yesterday." She whispers, looking at his black eye, cut cheek, and fat lip from under her glasses.

He nods quickly.

"Hm. Longbottom. Potter. Good day." She says before walking away.

The pair looked to the redhead. Harry clapped him on the shoulder.

"Well mate, good luck. Just be done by six, yeah?" He teased.

"Not funny Harry." He groaned.

"Hey, if what just happened is any indication of anything, it's that McGonagall trusts you. Dumbledore too, remember what he told you at the Burrow." Their eyes meet briefly.

The prospect of Horcruxes has been rattling around his brain for weeks, but they promised to bring it up.

"You're right, I'll just tell the truth." Ron half agrees, turning to leave.

"Good luck!" He hears Neville call.

Slowly Ron dredged his way to Dumbledore's office. A bit scared for what was to come. He didn't think the man would tell and scream, no, instead he'd give him some confusing life lesson. One that would have him thinking and analyzing it for weeks.

He'd rather be screamed at.

"Cockroach clusters." He told the statue.

In response it twisted into a coiled staircase. Taking a deep breath, Ron climbed it. Soon, he found himself staring at Dumbledore's back.

As he opened his mouth to say hello, he was cut off.

"Ah Ronald, good morning." The old man said, turning and giving him a small smile.

"Good morning sir." Ron responded nervously.

"The clouds are out today, but you see there," he points out his window at a single beam of light, "the sun will surely push its way through by the end of the day. Preserve." He comments.

Unsure what to say, Ron simply nods.

Finally, he turns, "do you know why I've called you here?"

Weasley gulped, "I may have a guess..."

"News travels fast in this castle. But I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

"No sir." Ron agrees.

"You've been through a great deal Ronald, today, I'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt. Violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts, but I assume you have good reason." He says knowingly.

"Yes sir, I believe I do." He says honestly.

"I'm interested to hear."

"Well, I didn't witness it myself and I never uh got the chance to ask her, but I have it on good authority." He pauses, "from Ginny, Neville, Luna, and Harry," Ron cites, "that Cormac McLaggen was inappropriate to Hermione the night of Professor Slughorn's Christmas Party. That and he began making out of line comments about her, I just, well, I wanted to feel like I was doing something." He says the last word almost as a cry.

Dumbledore sighs, "I know how you feel Ron."

He shakes his head before he can help himself, "no you don't."

Dumbledore would laugh had it been any other situation. It's almost astounding how similar him and Harry are as he is reminded of their conversation after Sirius' death.

"Maybe not, but you're not the first person I've seen struggle with being away from a loved one." He tells him.

Again, Weasley shakes his head, "no, this, this hurt is different." He admits, "I've lost people, take Percy for example. Sure I miss him, but with Hermione, it's a different kind of missing. It's like, it's like nothings the same. Like it's not worth it." Ron doesn't know why he feels the need to be so honest.

"You can't let this hurt consume you. Your job is to channel that into something else. Something Hermione would've liked. Your prefect rounds, your work, Harry. You and I both know she would not approve of her punching Cormac McLaggen, no matter the situation."

And he was right, Ron knew he was, but it was so hard. These past twelve hours of confiding in Neville and Harry about Malfoy. About finally coming up with something to help, it felt good. It felt right.

"You're right sir." He agreed.

"I'm glad we can see eye to eye Ronald. On these dark days, I would like you to remember that the sun always comes out again." He steps forward and whispers, "I have it on good authority all is being done for your friend. Remember that. Remind Harry of that."

Unable to answer, or even protest, he nods.

Dumbledore was right, finally, him and Harry were doing what they could to help Hermione.

"Now, I'd hate to keep you from your lessons. Good day Mister Weasley." The old man smiled, turning back to the window, stroking Fawkes.

"But sir, aren't you going to..." Ron started confused.

"Punish you? Is that what you want?" He questions with a quirked brow.

"No!" Ron jumps in.

"Mister McLaggen will be dealt with accordingly. Please don't make it routine practice to start brawls in my common room."

"Of course sir. It won't happen again."

"Good." Dumbledore smiles, "but if anyone asks, you have a week of detention with Professor McGonagall." The Headmaster winks.

A smile strikes Ron's face at his words. "Thank you so much."

He shakes his head, "for what?"

Ron laughs.

"Good day Mister Weasley. Please remember what I said."

In response Ron nodded and bid the old man goodbye before vanishing down the stairs.

Once reaching the bottom he sighed, now all he had to do was get through classes, then it'd be time to put operation what the fuck does Malfoy know in action.

...

Thankfully, six o'clock came faster than Ron thought it would. He figured all this anxious waiting around would drive him mad and slow time. But it hadn't.

"Alright Neville, whatever you do keep them at Quidditch. Practice is supposed to last an hour, we shouldn't be longer than that, but just in case. We'll find you when we're done." Harry told him one last time.

He nodded, "got it."

"Malfoy should have started rounds a little bit ago, come on." Ron prodded.

"Okay, good luck Neville." Harry said.

"Good luck to you guys too. I won't let you down. I won't let Hermione down." He assures in a whisper.

The pair nods in response. They know he won't. They're not planning to either.

As Neville disappeared down the corridor, Harry soon skimmed the map, finding Draco's dot wandering by the Charms room.

"Let's go, we'll cut through the courtyard." Harry said, throwing the cloak over them. They had to huddle to fit, but it worked.

Soon enough, they successfully reached the dungeons, only seeing Missus Norris once, but she just pranced by, not noticing them.

"Alright, we'll just wait until someone says the password." Harry whispered.

It took five minutes, but soon enough they saw Millicent Bulstrod's dot move closer to them.

"Sacred Twenty-Eight." She told the stone.

Ron scowled at the password.

Soon enough it opened up as she went though.

"If we hurry we can sneak in with her, come on!" Harry said lowly.

Thankfully, the noise of the moving stone masked their footsteps as they snuck in behind Millicent, nearly budging into her.

She didn't notice though, as she disappeared up a staircase.

"Other one must be the boys." Ron pointed out, already moving to the leftward staircase.

Nodding, Harry dredged on. Luckily, like Gryffindor Tower, each of the dorms with a sign indicating the year, ranging from one to seven.

Soon, their eyes fell on the one labeled 'Sixth Years', it was slightly ajar. Before entering, the pair glanced briefly to the map in Harry's hands, being extra cautious to ensure they were alone.

They pushed open the wooden door, cringing as it squeaked on its hinges, they surveyed the area carefully before fully stepping in. Once inside, they threw off the cloak as Harry took the liberty to cast a locking charm, all while Ron caused a 'muffalito'.

The room was identical to their own dorms, but all red had been replaced with green and gold swapped with silver.

"Which do you think is his?" Ron whispered despite silencing the room.

The chosen one eyes the four poster beds carefully. The one closest to the door is messier than he thought imaginable. The blankets tossed on the ground and the sheets of specks of something on them.

The next one isn't as bad, the blankets are ruffled and the pillows are skewed, but the bedside table is reasonably clean. However, the image of a scantily clad witch peeking out from beneath the blanket is very visible.

The quidditch posters and personal photos tacked onto a board over the third bed can only confirm it belongs to Blaise Zabini.

And if Ron and Harry were placing bets, there's no doing the last one belongs to one Draco Malfoy. His bed is neatly made. Though his space isn't as personal as Blaise's, there's a stack of books and parchment neatly organized on the side table. A ring rests on top of the pile, one they've seen Draco bear many times before.

"I didn't really fancy Malfoy to be all tidy." Ron commented.

"Really?" Harry asked, shocked, objection on his lips about how well Draco dressed being indicated as much.

Like his friend could sense it, he shook his head, "no just because a bloke can clean up nice, doesn't make them neat. Fred and George have pretty nice robes, but you've seen their room." He reminded.

Harry monetarily shivered at the thought. He wouldn't even be remotely shocked if something was growing under the twins beds.

As the dark haired boy was monetarily lost in thought, Ron stepped closer to the vantage point and eyed the table carefully.

"I reckon one things out of place, he'll know." He states.

Harry nods in agreement, "how about you start in the drawers, I'll do his trunk."

Weasley agreed and began carefully filing through the stacks of parchment. Most of it seemed to be nothing but graded assignments along with the occasional letter from home.

All were only from his mother. They were short and not at all telling of anything.

Just simple things like,

Hope you're doing well. I miss you son.

I've sent a few galleons for your Hogsmeade visit next week, have fun. Love you.

I'm going to pick you up from the platform on Saturday. I can't wait to see you! Mum.

And if the correspondents weren't between those with the last name Malfoy, Ron might even think they were sweet.

Harry had also been having similar luck to Ron. Draco's trunk was an endless amount of clothes and shoes, really nothing that raised eyebrows.

He peered over to see Ron skimming through the pages of a book.

"Anything?" The Boy-Who-Lived asked hopefully.

He shook his head, "no, just something for that Dark Arts essay on centaurs magical properties I reckon."

In response Potter groaned. They've been here nearly ten minutes.

"Okay, how about I check the bed and you check under it?" He suggested next.

Ron was about to protest to say that he doubts Draco would leave some big bad clue under his pillow, but they figured no stone should be left unturned.

Complying, Ron ducked down to the floor and he heard Harry ruffling Draco's sheets.

A pair of shoes under the bed, along with an old sock. A chocolate frog under his pillow. That was it.

As Harry began to work on lifting the mattress, they could vaguely hear the crunching of stone echo inside the quiet room.

Both jumped, Ron hitting his head in the process, before meeting eyes.

Quickly, Harry grabbed for the map, eyes scanning for Draco's dot.

"He's in the common room!" He stage whispered.

The ginger jumped and looked to be sure, "complete tosser he is. He's supposed to be on rounds for another hour, just wait-"

"Ron!" It seemed as if he missed Hermione so much he had taken to adapting some of her values as well.

"You're right, sorry." He said before moving to grab the cloak, "come on Harry."

As the other boy moved to join him, something caught his eye, "wait." He said picking up the book on Centaurs.

"Harry, I already looked like that, let's go! I hear footsteps." He said, casting a charm to tidy up Draco's bed as good as new.

"It's not that." He whispered in response.

Being that Harry had cut Ron off midway through his investigation on Malfoy's bedside table, he never got around to the small book hidden underneath the one for class.

Wizarding Antiques

His mind soon flashes to Draco wandering around Borgin & Burkes months ago. Both Hermione and Ron dismissed it, but this book proves it meant something more.

"Harry!" Ron stage whispered, having to undo the locking charm so they could leave. However, as he did so, the foot falls only grew louder.

Mesmerized he ignored Ron, eyeing the cover. Something soon caught his eye. A book Mark sticking out just a little over halfway in the book.

Eagerly opening it to see whatever Draco has tagged, he stops when he realizes it wasn't a bookmark. No, it was a photograph.

Astounded by the sight in front of him, he puts the book down, completely forgetting about his prior task. He's reminded of why they're really here.

Not to confirm what Harry believes to be true, but for Hermione. This picture is telling him as much. Shoving it in his face.

"Harry, let's go!" Ron says, tossing the cloak partly over his hunched frame as Draco can be heard conversing with another Slytherin outside the door.

Harry stands still. He can't move. He can barely think.

There's no way-

"Harry," Ron tries again, but soon realizes his friend is completely enthralled in something, "wait, what is it? Did you find something?" Like his friend, he remembers why he's here. Who he's here for.

Ron peeks over his shoulder at the picture. He can't understand what has Harry in such a state over it. He's seen it countless times in The Prophet.

"Hermione." Is all he can whisper.

The name of course catches Ron's attention, but he's suddenly drawn away by The jerking of the door, making him jump. Thankfully, he's managed to secure the cloak around Harry and move them closer to the door. However, the picture is still clutched in his hand.

He holds his breath as Malfoy eyes the room suspiciously. Then it appears something catches his eye.

He steps forward only centimeters from them.

Wealsey screws his eyes shut in anticipation.

It's over, Merlin it's all over-

But instead he makes his way over to Goyle's sneering as he covers up the photo of the nude witch with his pillow.

Doing his best not to outwardly sigh in relief, Ron takes the distraction to get the hell out, practically dragging Harry with him.

As they reach the somewhat safe, well, less dangerous area of the Slytherin boys staircase, Ron again takes the time to observe the photo. Harry's still mesmerized by it, though he can't see why. And he can't ask either, at least not until they're back in Gryffindor tower.

It's a picture of Draco sitting in a chair, stoic look on his face. To his left is his mother dressed in elegant black robes, looking regal as ever, hand on her son's shoulder. To his right, his father in the same position. Except, he looks less royal, more worn than anything.

The pictures on a loop, but they barely move. Just a slight shift in Draco's father's feet. A twitch of the youngest Malfoy's upper lip is somewhat noticeable.

The only thing that does stand out, is the continuous sparkling of a chandelier glittering above them.


Oh! Look at that.. :)

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Until next time I hope this preview can hold you over:

Harry's eyes lock with Ron's. There's a fire behind them, one he hasn't seen since that day he ran after Bellatrix, vowing to avenge Sirius.

"Do you remember Ron that night at the Burrow. That night it happened, I saw him, I saw Hermione." He spoke rapidly.

In response Weasley nodded, "yeah, he came twice. Once right after, once that night." He recalled.

"Do you remember what I said? When Mad-Eye asked who was there? What I saw?" He encouraged.

Despite the preview being Ron and Harry, we will be seeing Hermione as well!

Keep reviewing!