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Chapter Nine

"Hermione I swear, if you do not hurry up you will be left behind." Hermione glanced up from her packing, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. She sighed heavily.

"Harry—honestly! I want to make sure we're prepared for everything!" She exclaimed in exasperation. Harry fought the urge to smile. Leave it to Hermione to make sure they were "prepared" when there was another potential horocrux out, waiting to be destroyed. When Harry had found out about the potential horocrux he had barely been able to think about it—much less tell Hermione and Ron. He had assumed that they would be equally stunned. Ron had been astounded but Hermione, well, Hermione had been absolutely logical. Almost immediately she had leapt into action. Unfortunately for Harry who was eager to be on his way, the actions had been largely the planning sort. She had insisted on planning out each and every action, as well as what they would be bringing.

"Hermione if you keep at this, by the time we get there, Voldemort will have moved the bloody thing!" Harry pressed good-naturedly. Hermione sighed heavily, brushing her hair from her face.

"Harry, don't you understand? Dumbledore nearly died when you two went to find one of those blasted objects. I want to make sure we are prepared." Hermione explained. She looked at her knapsack, full of specific items and other necessities. Harry looked at the loot cynically, drawing out several books that looked large enough to serve as boulders.

"Hermione—do you honestly think we're going to have a lot of down time to be reading? Just bring your wand and let's go!" Harry cried impatiently. Hermione stood up, weighing this decision in her head. Harry however was already tugging at her hand, dragging her along.

"Harry—wait! We need warm cloaks, and we should bring food in case we stay out longer than we anticipated, and you'll need a broom, and we should—," Hermione stopped, realizing that her protests were falling on deaf ears. Harry was dragging her along at rapid speeds, tearing out of the common room. Hermione followed at breakneck pace, her hair flying wildly around her.

"What about Ron?" Hermione managed as they whipped through a corridor. Although neither had been particularly keen on informing Ron of the latest discoveries, it had been decided that it was necessary. Both Harry and Hermione were reluctant to leave him hanging around on his own, and neither wanted to involve anyone else in their current predicament. Also, tracking down a horocrux was big—an experience that Ron was entitled to share with them, having been a pivotal part of the trio since the very beginning. Neither Harry nor Hermione could bring themselves to exclude Ron from the adventure, despite the state he was in. So, against the better judgment of them both, they had disclosed their plan to a very intrigued Ron.

"He's waiting outside—he has the brooms." Harry explained breathlessly, rushing down another hallway.

When Harry and Hermione finally slowed down, both were gasping for breath, leaning heavily on eachother for support. Ron eyed the two quizzically, handing the brooms out to the pair. They accepted them gratefully, pausing to regain their energy. Hermione was the first to recover, staring at the two boys in front of her with an expression of devotion. For the first time the gravity of the situation that stretched before the trio had sunk in and she was filled with a feeling of heavy anxiety. Hermione shivered in the cool evening, nervously fingering a strand of hair. At least the rain's let up, she thought to herself, idly fastening her robe tighter around her slim frame. Ron noticed this action and immediately offered up his own cloak, which Hermione gratefully declined. As much as she wanted to take it, she knew that by taking the cloak she would only encourage Ron's affections, something that Hermione was desperate to discourage.

"Right then," Harry said shakily. He glanced between his friends, grateful that they had agreed to go with him. It wasn't like he had thought that they would refuse, but he had had lingering doubts about how readily they would jump at it. Thankfully though, both had seemed enthused over the venture and had expressed little worry—well, except for Hermione who had set about packing them all bags. "I suppose we should go." Hermione and Ron stared at Harry, the three of them taking a collective breath. They thought back over all of their adventures in the past years. They all seemed so—trivial. As if they had been leading up to this and this alone.

"I suppose you're right," Hermione admitted, mounting the broom. She shivered involuntarily at the action. It was no secret that she was afraid of flying; well, not so much afraid as bothered by it. It was one of the only things that Hermione didn't excel at and she couldn't help feeling queasy when she was so high up in the air. She always felt teetery and off balance, as if she were on a balance beam. Only there wasn't a mat below to break her fall.

"Are you going to be alright?" Hermione jumped at Ron's voice. He had leaned in so that his nose was touching her hair. His warm breath tickled her neck like a feather softly dusting her neck. Hermione shivered, remembering the last time they had been that close. Her lips tingled and her pulse quickened immediately but Ron didn't seem as though he were going to be kissing her any time soon. Hermione looked away, nodding her head.

"I-I just don't like flying that much." Hermione admitted quietly, clasping the broom in her hands. Ron nodded his head knowingly, mounting his own broom. Hermione glanced at Ron and Harry who had already walked up ahead, eager to begin the journey. Both boys were well practiced in flying, having spent many hours practicing Quidditch on broomstick. Hermione felt a pang of jealousy and regret race through her body. Why didn't I ever play with them? She fumed silently. They always asked me to play at the Burrow. I should have known that it would come in handy to be a good flier someday! Truthfully though, Hermione had never thought the skill to be very useful. At school she never had a need for it and outside of school she lived with her parents in the muggle world. Sure she spent a considerable amount of time at the Burrow, but they had always had the option of traveling by floo powder, and Hermione knew that she could always apparate. Flying had never seemed like a top priority—until now.

"Don't worry about it," Ron assured her, tugging his cloak tighter. Although the rain had stopped, the wind was beginning to pick up, ensuring a cold and harrowing flight. Ron stared at Hermione, her beautiful brown eyes searching his like a fawn looking at a headlight. He took a chance—reaching out to brush her heavily cloaked arm with his own—and relaxed when she almost seemed to welcome the touch. Ron had to stop himself from wrapping an arm around her, knowing instinctively that once he did he would no longer be in control of his actions. He didn't want to be like that with Hermione—he didn't want her to see him like that. So instead of enveloping her in an embrace that would surely release all of his built up passion, he merely gave her arm a comforting squeeze. "I'll be right behind you the whole time—I won't let you fall."


"Where are we?" Hermione asked, casting furtive glances around the starkly lit caves that Harry seemed to be drawing closer to. Hermione, between grasping her broom for dear life to navigate through the gusty winds and knowing that Ron was securely behind her, his arms poised to catch her if the situation occurred, had been all but oblivious to her surroundings. Now that she had time to breathe however, things were looking vastly unfamiliar. Glancing around at the dismal landscape that stretched out before her, Hermione found herself wishing that she had paid more attention.

"We're close," Harry said, cocking his head to the howling of the wind like a dog caught on a particularly intriguing scent. "We should stash our brooms here, we'll have to scale this on our own," Harry decided, casting down his broom. Hermione looked at the cliff before her in disbelief. Over the years Hermione had willingly followed Harry into some pretty questionable situations, but this was too much. She drew the line at scaling cliffs. Harry however seemed oblivious to Hermione's disdain of the task before her. He was too focused not on the cliffs but on what the cliffs held.

"You can't be serious," Hermione said shakily as Harry approached the cliff side. "Harry we can't climb this." Harry continued his climb, never looking back to Hermione.

"It won't be so bad Hermione," Harry called over his shoulder, already beginning the arduous climb. Hermione was taken back with the sudden harshness to his tone. He sounded so…determined wasn't the word, Hermione decided. She mulled over it a moment more before dismissing it as an effect of the howling wind.

"But—no—I mean—Ron!" Hermione stumbled, finally appealing to Ron for help. It was a last ditch attempt to free herself from the grueling task ahead of her, but from the look on Ron's face, it wasn't going to work. He merely shrugged as if to say what-can-you-do, and slowly rolled up his robes.

"Harry's right—with the winds there's no way we'd be able to stay on our brooms long enough to reach the top. This way, at least we'll have the caves of the cliff for shelter." At Hermione's panic-stricken face, Ron melted. She looked so…vulnerable, and Ron wanted more than anything to wrap her in his arms and—

Get a grip on yourself! Ron scolded himself sharply as Hermione took a hesitant step towards the cliffs. She reached up, gripping a sharp crag as if testing her weight against it. Deciding it was safe, she pulled herself up and with a sigh of defeat, continued up after Harry. Ron tensed, watching her climb the dangerous precipice cautiously. Ron wished he could hold Hermione tightly and rescue her from all of her fears. He wanted to feel her warm body against his, delighting in her electric touch, her lips on his like they had been earlier. Was it really only a few hours ago? Ron wondered vaguely. It had seemed like a lifetime ago, even though the resulting fight still burned vividly in his mind.

"Harry wait!" Hermione called out, clamoring to catch up with Harry who was now only a short length ahead of her. He paused, barely glancing at her hastily-approaching form before settling into the cliff, his feet finding a small ledge to rest on. Hermione was at his side in moments, her breath coming in short gasps as she struggled for breathy. She looked at Harry, sweat painting her face despite the chill in the air. "How much longer is it? From the top of the cliff I mean," Hermione asked breathlessly. Harry looked at her as if she were annoying him.

"Not far," Harry snapped shortly. Hermione looked up, surprised by the bite in his tone. Why is he so angry? Hermione asked herself, reaching out for Harry's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" She asked, keenly aware of how quickly Harry shied away from her touch. "Harry?" Hermione pressed, her voice nearly lost in the howling winds. Harry looked suddenly at Hermione, causing her to draw back in fright. The last thing she saw was the manic gleam in his eyes before he reached out, pushing Hermione from her perch, sending her plummeting to the jagged expanse below.