A/N We've got some interesting developments this chapter. Mayhaps we have some progress, too. I thought it would be nice to give some insight into Harry's thoughts about his conversation with Hermione after he had time to think about it but it's also an important setup. You'll see what I mean later.

Harry had been thinking about the last words Hermione had said to him. He still wasn't sure what she had meant when she said them. Ron had been talking almost nonstop and Harry actually found it grating on his nerves. Aside from their third year, he had never gone out of his way to avoid his friend, but he found himself sitting in the far corner of the library. It reminded him of his first year when Hermione had been telling them about the Sorcerer's stone. He sighed, resting his forehead on the surface of the table. He needed to talk to someone so he could sort through all the thoughts in his head, but if he mentioned Hermione, no one would hear him out.

"Harry? Are you okay?" Ginny asked, noticing him and approaching quietly. She wasn't sure why she did, but Ron wasn't with him and he wasn't so bad. He seemed like he needed someone to talk to and Ginny supposed she could try to be that person.

"Ginny. Erm, no, not really," he stammered, lifting his head to stare at her in shock.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked slowly, mentally telling herself to just leave.

"That would be nice. You don't mind?" Harry looked desperate and Ginny sighed, plopping into a seat across from him.

"Out with it."

"Do you think Hermione is evil?"

"Depends on your definition of evil."

"I guess that's the whole problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Promise not to tell?"

"Promise."

"Over break, I went to Diagon by myself and I was just wandering around. I didn't go looking for her, I swear, but I saw her and she agreed to talk to me. I'm not sure why but she did. She said something that kinda stuck with me and, well, I'm not quite sure what to make of it."

"What did she say?"

"She asked me if I ever stopped to think that maybe she is on the good side. But I don't understand how that can be true. I'm supposed to be on the good side. I'm supposed to vanquish Voldemort and end the war. He's the bad guy and she's on his side, how can she be good?"

"Why does it have to be good and bad, Harry? Why are you the good guy?" Ginny focused all her attention on Harry, now. She hadn't expected the conversation to take this route but she was glad it did.

"That's just how things are, Ginny. I'm the good guy because I'm supposed to kill Voldemort."

"Say you do, then. Say you kill Voldemort and you win the war. What then?"

"Things go back to normal."

"So nothing changes? Everything stays the same?"

"What else would happen?"

"There's a reason this war is happening, Harry. You need to open your eyes and see that maybe things aren't what you think they are. Society sucks. It needs to be changed. You can't say it's fine and be the good guy."

"So that makes me the bad guy?" Harry was growing frustrated. He was used to people praising him because he was the Golden Boy, but he shouldn't have expected it from Ginny. She knew he had Crucioed Hermione, had been her friend.

"It doesn't make you anything, Harry. The war is bigger than you, bigger than Hermione, bigger than all of us. We're just the players in a game. Who's to say which side is right? Tell me something, Harry, do you honestly think Hermione is evil?"

"If I knew the answer to that I wouldn't be sitting here."

"Let me help you out a little more, Harry. When has Hermione done anything harmful to entire groups of people?"

"She hasn't, not really," he admitted. He felt like a scolded child, despite the fact that Ginny was a year younger than him.

"So why does her name change all of that now?" Ginny walked away after her question, leaving Harry alone to think. She was growing irritated and it was getting difficult not to reveal her allegiances. She wanted to grab Harry by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, tell him what he was really fighting for. She didn't, though. He needed to come to the conclusion on his own. If she told him, he might go to Dumbledore and then she'd be in danger. She wasn't sure how much confidence she had in Harry, but at least he was trying to understand.

Harry stared at the table he was sitting at, eyes following the whorls in the wood. He was mulling over Ginny's words, seeing similarities in his conversation with Hermione. He wasn't sure how he felt, being told he wasn't as special as he thought. He supposed everyone wanted to believe they were special, had some kind of divine path. Maybe Ginny was right, maybe he wasn't the good guy. He didn't want to be the bad guy, though. He wanted to be good, he just wasn't sure what that meant anymore.

Draco stood in front of the Vanishing Cabinet, muttering spells under his breath. His journal had the glow that meant he had a message but he hadn't read it yet, choosing to check the cabinet for himself. He opened it, revealing an apple with a bite taken out of it. He looked at it in confusion for a moment, turning it in his hand. He wondered if something had gone wrong. Why hadn't the apple come back whole? Draco opened his journal, the page falling open to the last message he had received.

It works. Bellatrix took a bite out of it as a way of communicating this. I guess she forgot we have the journals.

Draco chuckled, dropping the apple onto the floor. It rolled lopsidedly in a half-circle before coming to rest at the toe of his shoe. He looked at it for a moment before turning his attention to the birdcages. He had managed to catch and keep a few birds to test the cabinet. He examined them mournfully. He wasn't sure if a living creature would survive the journey, even one as small as a bird. He didn't want them to die, didn't want to be the one to end the innocent life.

Should I try the bird?

Yes.

The response appeared on the page almost immediately and Draco sighed. He opened one of the cages and reached inside. The bird was brown, a finch, maybe. He held it in one hand, wings pressed against its body so it didn't fly away. He held the bird at eye-level, staring into the beady eyes of the small animal.

"If this doesn't work, I'm so sorry," he whispered. The bird gave no indication of understanding him and he placed it in the cabinet, quickly shutting the door. He heard fluttering inside the wooden structure and he gripped his wand tightly, muttering the spell that would send it away. It was no more than a minute when his journal glowed again and Draco held his breath as he opened the cabinet. The fluttering hadn't returned, but he still wanted to believe it had worked. Draco stared at the bottom of the Vanishing Cabinet, sorrow washing over him briefly. The bird was dead. He hadn't expected it to work on the first try, but he had hoped it would. He scooped the dead bird out of the cabinet, casting a levitation charm before setting it on fire. As a lone feather drifted to the floor, he opened the journal.

It didn't make it. I'm sorry. I'll do what I can and I'll let you know when we can try again. Stay safe.

Draco closed the journal with a thud, the two covers slamming together. He hadn't expected immediate success, but that didn't make it any less disappointing. People were counting on him and he couldn't let them down. Hermione could strengthen the magic better than he could, but he wasn't entirely useless. Draco sat in front of the Vanishing Cabinet, legs crossed and eyes closed. He focused on the cabinet, tried to feel the connection to its twin. It seemed strong enough to at least transfer a bird. Maybe they needed to use a different spell for different things. The apple hadn't been alive, at least, not in the sense the bird had. He knew from Hermione that word order was important in casting. Draco opened his eyes and rose from his spot. Collecting his journal, he strode out of the Room of Requirement, the bitten apple laying where it had fallen. It was time for him to do some research.