Author's Note: Thanks to ILRB80 for beta reading.
Chapter 16 - Fear and Loathing
"We are proud to announce that our little Dueling Club will be having two tournaments, the first of which will be in one month," said Professor Weasley, pausing as his voice was drowned by the whispering of hundreds of rather undisciplined students. Hermione clucked impatiently. Were her classmates so barbaric that they couldn't even listen to a single announcement without interrupting? But Professor Weasley didn't seem to share her indignation. He leaned back comfortably against the professor's table in the Great Hall until there was silence. "Brackets will be segregated by year and house. Nine points will be awarded to a house for a first place finish, six for second place, and three for third. The first place finishers for each will then have a tournament of their own. Participation is mandatory. Anything short of killing is permissible. In the first tournament, interhouse duels will not be permitted. The final tournament will be held the week before Finals. The first tournament will be held on the Friday before the Gryffindor-Slytherin Match."
"That way you'll have an audience," said Professor Lockhart happily. "All the alumni coming to watch the quidditch match will be treated to the dueling tournament as a form of pregame entertainment. Do your best to give them a good show!" He winked at Hermione.
Ohh… Oh my, oh my… Had he really just winked at her? But he was famous, he could have any witch he wanted… But then, she was the most talented witch since Merlin- at least that's what everyone said, so looking at it from a purely objective standpoint she was quite the catch herself. Hermione tried not to blush, she tried not to smile, as it seemed rather silly, but irregardless- she failed on both accounts.
"And don't forget to stick around after you're through sparring with your mates," said Professor Black cheerfully. "Us professors will be having a few duels of our own after the kiddie tournament is over. We'll show you a proper scrap."
That announcement should have gotten the students talking. Instead there was silence.
Professor Snape's long fingers rapped against wood, and in a voice quieter than a whisper murmured, "I've been waiting..." He trailed off, wearing an intriguing smile Hermione had never seen before. How very interesting! Afterall, there was a part of every innocent little girl that wished to witness gruesome murder.
XOXOXOX
A charred corpse fell out of the suitcase. It lay motionless on the floor of the all-white classroom, and seemed a little too much like a vision from the bloody afterlife.
"Riddikulus," said Professor Quirrell coldly. A single letter peeled off the corpse. An N flanked by a one and a zero. Then a U flanked by a 235 and a 96 peeled off. And then the U split off into a Kr and a Ba. And those turned into more N's, U's, Kr's, and Ba's, the process growing faster and faster, like some kind of runaway, err… Math equation…
But… But…
Fred and George had told him there would be no math in Defense Against the Dark Arts. This hadn't been some blooming reading assignment that wanker Quirrell had assigned right? Ron looked around the room, but the rest of the students didn't seem to get it either.
Well, Hermione looked liked she'd just seen a corpse, but she kinda had, so all those letters probably weren't anything worth fussing over. Besides, nobody else from Slytherin was acting like they'd been bloody crucio'd, nor any of the Gryffindors. Not a peep from the Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff firsties either. Ehh? Hermione was probably just trying to get attention, just like always. Afterall, Dumbledore wasn't making a big show of it, so it surely couldn't have been anything important… But then again, Hermione had caught a certain rat which had escaped Dumbledore's… No, no, what was he even thinking?
The old man took a deep breath, and stepped into the flurry of numbers and letters. They vanished.
Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed far away, his shoulders slouched, like he'd just seen a bloody goblin giving away gold even though the room was blooming empty. Geniuses right? Ron never had a bloody clue what they were on about. "Even still? I was so sure that in the past few months I had at least grown some infinitesimal amount, but I suppose it was too much to think I could ever change my essence… Riddikulous!"
And from the nothingness appeared a handsome blonde man. Ron reckoned he'd seen the bloke somewhere before, though he couldn't quite place it. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore banished the man into a suitcase in an empty corner of the classroom.
"That was a boggart," said Professor Quirrell clinically. "It takes the form of what a person fears most. Traditionally, the boggart is shown to students in their third year, when your minds and magic are more developed. But Professor Dumbledore and I felt early exposure would be-"
"No need to cover for me old friend, the truth is that it was I who insisted we accelerated this lesson in particular," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling madly. "It was my desire that Professor Quirrell be here to witness your fears; that he have access to the same information as I. It's only fair."
Quirrell favored Dumbledore with a strained smile. Ron could hardly blame him.
"What do you suppose Dumbledore means by that?" Asked Ron quietly.
Harry whispered. "I reckon it's a competition that Quirrell isn't too keen on. No clue why I think that- just a feeling- but I know it's true somehow."
Yeah, that kinda made sense. But a competition over what?
"Blimey Harry, you reckon they're trying to find the Heir of Slytherin? I reckon his fear would be distinct. A muggleborn minister or some such."
"No, I think not," said Harry. "It's about err… I dunno, but it's about more than just finding the Heir."
Ron shrugged. "Well it's Dumbledore so, you know, there's gotta be some reason for it. Dad says Dumbledore's the most brilliant wizard who ever lived, he just acts like a fool for err… Reasons… Or something, anyways it's not like we're gonna understand what he's up to. We just gotta… Uhh… Trust that he's… Um…"
Ron trailed off. Problem was, he recognized the expression on Dumbledore's face. He'd seen it in the mirror just before he'd had a peed on Bill's cloak, before he'd scribbled all over Percy's books. Guilt… Relief… Excitement…
What the bloody hell was he on about? Like a mediocre little nothing could ever understand Dumbledore- this wasn't a bloody fairytale and even if it was, Ron would just be a background character you never even noticed.
"Hannah Abbott," said Quirrell. "Come forward."
A Hufflepuff first year walked nervously towards the suitcase. It shook as she approached, burst open, and revealed Hannah Abbott's pale dead body. Hannah stared at her corpse. And stared… And stared…
The corpse turned into Quirrell's. "Riddikulous," Quirrell said, banishing the boggart back into its suitcase. He put a hand on Hannah's shoulder. "Your own death. Your end. That is your greatest fear, as it should be when oblivion is a possibility. To confront your own mortality is to dance with madness. Death is the final enemy to be conquered. Will you fight, or give in to a more comforting delusion? Now go back to your classmates Child, and know that ninety percent of your comrades will share the same fear."
Quirrell's words were proven true. All of the students in Hufflepuff most feared death. So did all the students in Ravenclaw. As it turned out, people were really, really afraid of dying. Soon enough, the final Ravenclaw Padma Patil had confronted death, and it was the Gryffindors' turn to face their fears.
The entire classroom livened up. Gryffindor was the house of the brave, and just seeing one corpse after another had gotten bloody boring.
"Lavender Brown," said Quirrell smugly.
And Lavender's boggart was a dead Lavender. Death. That was also the biggest fear of Seamus, and Dean, and Sally, and Pavarti, and everyone in bloody Gryffindor. So much for the bravest house- not that Ron was gonna be any different- he wasn't too keen on dying himself. When he considered the possibility of nothing, forever- that it might be inevitable and for everyone- well it was bloody terrifying. So scary that he thought it would drive him mad if he thought on it too long. It was like Quirrell said. It wasn't unique, but it was the scariest thing.
A permanent end.
"Ronald Weasley," said Quirrell.
Ron braced himself. He was gonna be like everyone else.
The suitcase shook.
He was gonna have to look his own death in the face, no running from it, no lies.
It burst open. But there was no corpse. Just a small red-headed girl.
"Ginny?" Ron asked.
But Ginny didn't respond.
His biggest fear was his little sister? Had the boggart gone mental?
"Are you gonna turn into some kind of monster?" Ron asked the boggart, trying to chuckle and not quite managing it. "I'm not afraid of my bloody little sister!"
"Not of… For," Dumbledore murmured softly. "It's a truly wonderful boggart Ronald, a beautiful fear. I daresay that I've underestimated you. Look at it more closely. Into its eyes."
That's when Ron noticed Ginny's green eyes were dull- no, not just dull- empty. "No…" There was nothing there. No light, no spark, no… Soul… Because… Because she'd been caught. And given the Dementor's Kiss.
"No, no, no!" Ron fell to his knees, and shook Ginny. She flopped to the ground lifelessly.
Bloody hell! Bloody hell, what was he doing? Why hadn't he done more to bloody stop her? What was he doing now? People were going to wonder why his biggest bloody fear was his little sister getting the Dementor's Kiss. He had to make it go away!
He had to make it go away!
GO AWAY!
Ron screamed, and a burst of light exploded from within him, and washed over the classroom in a wave. Soon enough, his light faded. A dark cloud hovered above him. Students found their way back onto their feet, whispering amongst themselves. Trying to figure out what had happened.
Bloody hell…
Bloody hell… Stupid… He was a bloody idiot. He'd just done the worst thing… The worst thing… Why did he always do the worst thing?
Why was he… Like this?
Why couldn't he just be… Be someone who wasn't such a bloody cock up?
His eyes found Hermione's. She'd have never done something so stupid. Why couldn't things come easily for him for once?
Even just for a day. Even just for a moment.
And the dark cloud hovering above coalesced into a new form. It was him. Alive. But…
Just Ron.
A wave of coldness spread across his body, his legs lost strength, and darkness overtook him.
Next thing he knew he was in the Hospital Wing.
"You're awake!"
Fred and George hugged him.
"If any bloke makes fun of you," said Fred.
"We'll hex them to Atlantis," said George.
"Bloody hypocrites anyways," said Fred sourly.
"Shaking in their boots by the idea of dying," said George.
"But not our Ron," said The Twins together. "Looking out for your baby sister. Now that's a proper boggart!" They mussed up his hair proudly. And… It was still a bloody mess, he still needed to talk to Ginny, he was still scared that he'd ruined everything, but…
But it was the first time The Twins had ever called him Ron, and that had to be worth something right? Ron's lips twitched.
"Good," Neville snarled, glaring at The Twins. "Bloody good for you! Well I wasn't scared of death either, and you don't see me boasting about it to any bloke who'll listen!"
What was that about? "Nev-"
"Yeah," said Fred cooley.
"Everyone was surprised by your Boggey," said George.
"Shared with one Ginny Weasley," said Fred.
"What makes the two of you squirm," said George.
"Is a simple report card," said Fred.
"All full of failing marks," said George.
"Always figured that students like you," said Fred.
"Just didn't care," said George.
"What do you know about…" Neville scowled. His fingers trembled, twitched. Do it Neville! Go for the wand, don't be pushed around! "About…"
Fred and George stared at Neville pleasantly. Patiently. Not the least bit worried.
"...You're right…" Neville crumpled, like he'd been trampled. "I'm afraid of… Of failing? Out of first year? Funny right?" Neville rubbed his finger. "Why? Everyone already knows I'm a failure, a few steps from being a squib, so it doesn't make sense… It doesn't make sense… Why? My Mum and Dad were once brilliant, so why am I like this? Why? Why? Why can some people be smart without even trying… Why can't some people be smart, no matter how hard they try…"
"Can we just quit it with all this boggart talk?" Harry asked desperately. "None of us want to talk about our boggarts right? I'm not too keen on everyone knowing mine either, but it doesn't matter. Nobody is going to remember your boggart Ron, or what happened after. Everyone's talking about Hermione. No matter how long she waited, the boggart hid in the suitcase. Everyone's saying she isn't afraid of anything, so it didn't know what to do."
"Bollocks," said Ron sourly. The admiration in Harry's voice was more annoying than a nail across a chalkboard. "Everyone's afraid of something."
"Not Hermione," said Harry proudly. "She just waited for the boggart, but it never showed. Eventually, she ran off saying that the lesson was a waste of time. I'm telling you, the boggart was afraid of her!"
"No," said Neville coldly. His voice didn't shake. He was always a different person when it came to Hermione. "Didn't you see the chest's latches? It was open. It's not that she isn't afraid of anything. It's that she's afraid of nothing."
Err… What?
Whatever. Neville was just twisting himself into knots to avoid the truth. No need for that. They were all friends right?
"Great. Just great. Saved from humiliation by Little Miss Perfect," Ron whinged sourly.
"Look," said Harry, looking out the window. "I know you're angry with her. But all I'm saying is-"
"That all anyone is gonna be talking about is Hermione bloody Granger right? Nobody's gonna talk about ickle Ronniekins embarrassing little incident, not when there's a girl so perfect that even bloody boggarts run from her."
"I was just trying to make you feel better," Harry said quietly. He glanced at Ron, then back out the window, his face all red. "I dunno how though. I'm not any good at this. You see, I've never really had… Well… Look. You… Ya know, you're my first frien-"
"Why don't you hurry on over to quidditch practice Harry." Ron said angrily. "We don't want Gryffindor losing do we?"
Harry took a step back. But he didn't leave.
"GO! Just bloody go," Ron said. "I know I'm being a complete arse right now! But just- right now I can't stand your stupid face."
Harry left.
Ron didn't feel any better.
"He was trying to make you feel better," Neville said quietly. "He just doesn't… He doesn't get what it's like being Neville Longbottom or Ron Weasley. Not everyday, not every time you talk to somebody."
Ron… Ron felt… He actually felt a little better. Because somebody, even just one person in the world, understood him.
The door to the hospital wing opened. It was the last person Ron wanted to see, but the one he needed to talk to most.
"Hem, hem," said Ginny testily. "It's a bit crowded. I'd like to talk to my dearest brother alone."
Neville started. "He's not feeling well. Can it wait just-"
"No," Ginny snapped. "Leave. All of you. Now."
The Twins and Neville left the room. Neville shot a worrying look back at Ron. Ron waved him out.
This was gonna go poorly. It always did for him, but still, he had to try.
"I've been meaning to talk to you too Ginny," Ron said solidly, forcing himself to meet her gaze. "I know you feel you have to stand out, but-"
"Why?" Ginny asked, leveling the tip of her wand between Ron's eyes. "You think I'm the bloody Heir don't you? I suppose I should be flattered, you weren't even this pissyl when Charlie won the Cup. But even your jealousy ought to have some limits! We grew up together, I thought you knew me! Just because I'm Slytherin you think I'm some blood purist!"
Ron opened his mouth. "You've always had to be the best. And now, to be the best-"
"You jealous fucking prick!" Ginny said, her wand shaking. "Bollocks… Bloody bollocks! You need me to be the Heir! You've always tried to tear me down. You've always resented me!"
"I… That's not true Ginny."
Ginny barked a laugh, and wiped her eyes. "Don't try to lie to me Ron. I know you better than anyone."
"I- just shut up- stop trying to distract me. I'm not imagining things! Someone taught you dark magic, someone helped you get the troll into Hogwarts, you're being controlled Ginny!"
"No I'm not," Ginny said, dropping her wand, and shaking Ron's shoulders. "I'm not! Tom wouldn't do that to me! You don't know anything about him! We're so alike, he understands me perfectly. He would never use me like that!"
"Yes he would! He's bloody evil Ginny! He's got you under some kind of spell!"
Ginny pulled away. "Goodbye Ron."
And just like that, his little sister vanished.
XOXOXOX
Hermione jumped, as she heard a sound in the empty classroom.
"Occultare," she whispered hastily, as the letters in Magicke Most Evile by Godelot dove back into the parchment. She quickly covered it with a less fascinating biography on Delfina Crimp, which was at least more interesting than that boring boggart, which had been defective. She had been quite sure it would transform into Pachabel and his horrid Cannon in D, but instead it hadn't done a thing.
"I was just doing some ever-so-light reading for Char- Oh if it isn't Miss Rita Skeeter," said Hermione, in her most pleasant voice. "How very lovely to see you again. Your article on me was ever so interesting. Why I've always wanted to be a reporter myself, it seems like a positively lovely profession. I must confess to some curiosity though, how did you find such detail on Ronald Weasley? I consider him a friend, and I hadn't heard any of those unfortunate stories from his childhood myself, and I do consider us ever so close."
"You're asking me to expose my sources?" Miss Skeeter raised an eyebrow. Why, she almost seemed amused- what an absolutely dreadful woman! "Word of advice Granger, protect your sources or you'll find yourself without any."
"But I've spoken with the Weasley's and all of them insist that they said nothing to you. So how exactly did you find such…" Hermione tapped her wand against her lips thoughtfully. "Revealing stories? Why, it's almost enough to make one wonder if you just made it all up, which is of course the very definition of libel, which as you know is, according to Article 13 Section 3 Paragraph 5 of the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, punishable by up to seven years in Azkaban." Ever-So-Innocent Hermione batted her eyelashes ever-so-innocently. "Of course, I know you wouldn't ever dream of doing such a thing, but there's this horrid rumor going around Slytherin that the Wizengamot is planning on going after you. Oh, I do wish to quell those rumors ever-so-much. Whatever would the world do without a brave reporter like you?"
"I know your game Granger. You hate me, and you want to take me down. If you're going to threaten me, do it properly..." Miss Skeeter wore a strained smile. "Actually no, that was well done. Blackmail agrees with you, but I prefer a more direct method. I'm not a person who appreciates subtlety. I'm here because I've got something to tell you: Don't trust Gilderoy Lockhart. He isn't the hero you think he is. When I went to Waga-Waga I found-"
"I was raised to be quite polite, but since you seem rather barbaric I will communicate in your preferred method. All I've seen from you is that you've a poison-pen. You'll write anything, you'll even hurt an innocent child, all to publish an article that sells. So you needn't continue to yammer on and on, Miss Skeeter, not until you can answer this question: why should I trust you?" Innocent Hermione's smile was ever-so-pure. "You've not given me any reason to trust you, so I shan't. But perhaps, if you reveal how you-"
"I know you think I'm your enemy, but I'm not. You're the greatest hope for muggleborn rights in the last thirty years," said Miss Skeeter rather impatiently. "So you can try and ruin me for your fake vengeance, but I'm still going to do everything in my power to help you."
Hermione scowled. Fake vengeance? What an absolutely horrid woman, to insinuate that Hermione's plot to destroy her was anything other than pure… Wait…
How did Miss Skeeter even know of her machinations in the first place? There were the pins of course, but Hermione had hardly been so dunderheaded as to verbalize her intentions. In fact, she'd only done such a thing in the Gryffindor Common Room. Who'd been there? Who could have overheard? Who could be the leak?
Harry? Ron? Ginny? Neville? Oh and that horrid beetle which had gotten into her locks of course… Wait, when she'd accidentally overheard Ron confessing his misdeeds to Neville after that first flying lesson hadn't there been a beetle as well?
Hermione smirked at Miss Skeeter. Gotcha.
"You think this is a game?" Snapped Miss Skeeter. No, just Skeeter- there was no need to respect a brazen criminal. "You don't know the forces you're dealing with! I've seen geniuses ruined before! And you're the most dangerous one ever! If you keep being this careless you'll find the world on fire with yourself the fuse!"
"Then I hope the fire keeps you nice and warm in Azkaban," Hermione said pleasantly, adjusting her Hermione Pettigrew pin. It flashed, revealing its hidden message. Oops.
Skeeter stared at the pin, took a few deep breaths, and slowly stopped shaking. "You think I'm cruel. I told little Ronald Weasley the truth about himself. I treated him like an adult, and held him accountable for his actions." Skeeter's eyes flashed. "Here's a story for you: Beautiful, brilliant, muggleborn girl pretends to care about an awkward, isolated boy with a troubled homelife."
"I really do care about Ronald!" Hermione protested.
Skeeter smirked. "His father beat the boy like a disobedient house elf."
What was Skeeter on about? While Ronald may be suffering from mild neglect, he was hardly the victim of any physical abuse…
…Oh…
How very, very… clever… of Rita Skeeter. Hermione gnashed her teeth. Making her, Hermione Granger, look a fool, oh how delightfully clever of Skeeter. Why, Hermione did so hope that Clever Rita Skeeter quite enjoyed her own wittiness as she rotted away in Azkaban.
"Every year he came to school with bruises, but the most popular girl in the school always brought an extra set of textbooks for him. This girl was beautiful, popular, and I'm quite sure that you would find her ever-so-kind Hermione. Indeed, she was the only kindness the boy knew. She was his only light. His love. His hope. His Lily."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"But there was one other thing about this boy I forgot to mention. One little detail. His natural genius was unparalleled. Dumbledore's creativity. Riddle's inquisitiveness. Your curio-"
"You do realize that Professor Snape is my Potions Professor," Hermione said, snorting. "Calling someone like him a genius does quite devalue the word, wouldn't you say?"
Skeeter opened her mouth, but no words came out.
"Oh, was his identity supposed to be a secret? Some grand reveal?" Hermione asked delightedly. "I suppose I've ruined your tale then, but please do remember who you're talking to. I am a little clever, don't you know? And I must say that while I find Professor Snape quite bright, he isn't… well… I suppose you are a reporter, and I really ought to expect a little exaggeration." Hermione smiled sweetly. "I'm not opposed to adding a little varnish to a story anyways. I'm all for fudging the inconvenient little details to make things more interesting. If it makes for a better yarn, by all means tell me that lil' Snapey boy breathed fire and died of a broken heart when Lily Potter was murdered by the Dark Lord. Or are you perhaps trying to intimate that his genius was broken when Lily chose James Potter over him? I seem to recall that James and Sirius were best friends. And when Sirius met Severus he called him such a very strange name. Perhaps you've heard it: Snivellus."
Skeeter staggered, shocked and stricken. Hermione didn't need legilimency to see the reporter's heart, nor how to break it. She did so enjoy puzzling things, and all the better to do it aloud. "It did sound quite derogatory. Snivellus."
Skeeter flinched everytime Hermione said the word.
"Oh, did James and Sirius bully poor ickle Severus? And you watched it all happen right? Why, that's how you know the story. Because you saw your crush being bullied, you saw his life crumbling, and you did nothing to stop it. You simply observed."
"Y-yes…" Skeeter admitted.
"Because you don't make stories." Hermione grinned viciously. Twas for Skeeter's own good of course, but Hermione could hardly be blamed for enjoying it. "You just report them."
"I'm sorry," Skeeter whispered.
"And that's why Professor Snape would never choose you over Lily- even now that she's gone," Hermione said smugly. "Do you blame yourself for the fact that he has never accomplished anything? Is that why Snivellus bullies the slower students in Potions like a pathetic lo-"
"Shut your mouth you damn bitch," Skeeter said, grabbing Hermione by her collar, and pushing her against a wall like some kind of… Of… She…
Couldn't breathe!
Calm down, calm down, CALM DOWN! She was a witch! She needn't fear such barbarism!
Hermione grabbed for her wand. She dropped it. Bugger. She scratched at Skeeter's hands.
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe! She couldn't bloody breathe!
"I'm sorry!" Hermione gasped, clawing at Skeeter's arm. "I'm sorry, let me go! Please!"
Skeeter released her, shaking. "You… You really are…"
Hermione gasped. She had to keep some time between inhalation and exhalation. Not hyperventilate.
"I apologize," said Skeeter, sighing. "I lost control. There's no excuse for attacking a kid."
Hermione tried to steady herself. She kept right on trembling.
"I know you won't believe me, but I think Ron's a good kid underneath all his bluster. He doesn't deserve what you're doing to him."
Why was this savage still talking?
"There is no force in this world more powerful than love," said Skeeter, turning at the door. "It wasn't James Potter's bullying that shattered Severus. It wasn't his father Tobias's abuse. It wasn't my own inaction, nor even the Dark Lord's machinations… Just remember, don't trust Lockhart."
"Buzz-" Hermione gasped. "Buzz off!"
Skeeter vanished.
Rita Skeeter, she- the savage had attacked her! She'd made Hermione feel weak. Powerless!
But… Hermione smiled as tears rolled down her cheeks… But Skeeter had revealed her secrets.
And Hermione Granger was going to make her pay.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading. For anyone wondering, Harry's boggart in this story is a cupboard. I should be able to get more chapters out soon. And now onto the reviews!
Nottheiliad - Thank you! I hope that I stick the landing with the ending!
Guest - I hope that things stay coherent. The best thing about Harry Potter is that so much of the cast has great chemistry together. Thanks for the review!
Gja03 - Updates should start becoming more frequent! Thanks for the review!
ViviTheFolle - Fred was admitting that he knew that the pranks bothered Ron, and that he didn't actually believe his own denials. The Twins in this story have their hearts in the right place, but are insensitive. Sound like anyone we know?
I'm glad you liked the Ron/Harry/Neville friendship. There will be some thorns there, but I'd say that the Ron/Neville friendship is probably going to be the relationship most explored in this story. As for my own comments about Ron's mediocrity, I'd say that Ron has already accomplished quite a bit, it's just not necessarily the things that people glorify. But he's got his own set of strengths, and that's what attracts Harry and Hermione to him. I'm also self-inserting with Ron more than any other character, so giving him big moments of glory just seems a bit masturbatory. I'm probably going to be harder on Ron and Neville than anyone else, because they're the two characters I relate to the most.
I've got to admit that what inspired this story were JK Rowlings comments about how she wanted Ron and Hermione together, and so she forced it to happen and regretted it. At first I thought that meant Ron must've been based on one of her exes, because we know Hermione was based largely on herself, but thinking on it I realized that the dynamic of an overachiever having a crush on someone with an inferiority complex is just a great idea for a relationship. So I made Hermione even smarter, and I coupled Ron's inferiority complex with shame, and that's the heart of this story. So I'm really happy that that's shining through!
And you're quite right about Voldemort trying to manipulate Hermione. It's a dangerous game.
And thanks for the review!
FGHermione - Well you've got your answer to that one don't you? Immediately. The secrets in the story that aren't just recycled from cannon will take her quite a bit longer though. Thanks for the review!