Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Funeral
……………………………………………………………

The first of September, for the very first time in centuries, did not bring the start of a new term at Hogwarts. Instead, it brought Ron's funeral.

The only thing harder than losing Ron, in Harry's opinion, was seeing what it did to Mrs Weasley and Ginny. They sobbed through the entire ceremony, which was held in a small cemetery where Harry had never been before.

They didn't have a body. But they had a headstone, and it was the best anyone could do for Ronald Weasley. That thought was like a knife in Harry's side.

After all that Ron had done for him … after all the laughs and Quidditch games and Chocolate Frogs … Harry couldn't even track down his best mate's corpse to give him a proper burial.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand and he looked down at her, unable to figure her out. She had gone from absolutely miserable to somewhat cheery, and Harry didn't understand why. She had been a wreck ever since Ron had disappeared. The day they were told of Ron's demise, Hermione had wept for him. But the next morning, she was smiling. Her eyes were twinkling much like they had done before this whole mess.

'It's okay to cry,' Harry told her, because it was really the only thing he could tell her as he held a sobbing Ginny in his arms.

Hermione leaned in. 'Can I tell you something, Harry?' she whispered.

Harry nodded. 'You can tell me anything.'

'I know … but … if I tell you this, you have to promise that you won't think I'm crazy. You have to try to understand,' she said. Her eyes were pleading with him for some sort of support so he nodded and promised. 'Ron isn't dead,' she said with a small smile.

For a long time, Harry didn't know how to respond. He'd told Hermione that he wouldn't write her off as crazy but … well, she certainly seemed nutters.

Harry knew what was going on. Hermione was in denial. He had experienced it when Sirius died, and again with Professor Dumbledore. But it was important for his friend to realize that Ron was really gone. Perhaps it would hurt, but it would be for the best, wouldn't it?

'Hermione,' he whispered. 'He is dead. Ron is dead.'

Hermione shook her head, her eyes flashing in anger. 'You promised that you'd try to understand,' she hissed. 'Ron isn't dead. I know he isn't.'

Harry couldn't help himself. He felt a small thrill of hope spawn in the pit of his stomach. 'What do you mean? How …?'

'I can't explain it,' said Hermione, and Harry felt the hope vanish at once. This was Hermione. She usually didn't make a move until she had checked and re-checked every single fact in at least three different books. Was she actually unable to explain how she knew that Ron was alive? 'I just know. I can feel it.'

She really didn't have any true reason? She didn't have facts and evidence to support her theories? She didn't have long, school-length essays written out on the subject?

Hermione was going by a feeling. This was crazy.

'Please tell me that I'm the only one you've told about this,' Harry said.

'Well, I was going to tell Mrs Weasley before this funeral but … I thought you should know first,' she said, squinting in confusion. 'But I'm going to tell McGonagall as soon as this is over.'

Harry shook his head. 'You can't do that,' he said quickly.

Hermione frowned. 'Why not?'

'Because!' he whispered, his eyes scanning the area to make sure that none of the Weasleys were listening to Hermione's desperate attempt to hold on to Ron. 'Look at Mrs Weasley … look at how upset she is!'

'Yes, and knowing that her son is alive and well will make her feel better,' Hermione argued. 'If nobody knows that Ron is alive, how will we be able to look for him?'

'You can't just go tell Mrs Weasley that her son is alive without any proof,' Harry said, marveling at the fact that he was, for once, being the logical one. 'You can't give her that hope and then take it away.'

'Who said anything about taking it away?' questioned Hermione. 'Ronald Weasley is alive. I can feel it, Harry. I can feel it in here,' she said, putting a hand over her heart. 'And if after all we've been through, that isn't good enough for you, then …'

'Then what?'

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she turned around and walked away.

……………………………………………………………

McGonagall approached Harry a few minutes later, before he had the change to go find Hermione and convince her not to talk to Mrs Weasley about Ron.

'May I have a word?' requested McGonagall.

Harry nodded and followed her down a twisting path, keeping his eyes glued to the ground underfoot. 'What do you need, Professor?'

He felt a bit silly calling her Professor, especially since, as of today, it was clear that Hogwarts would not open and she would not be his professor any longer. If McGonagall noticed, though, she did not mention it.

'You have been reinstated,' she said, clearly wasting no time. 'I have come to realize that perhaps it was slightly foolish of me to force you out of the Order.'

Harry met her eyes. 'Um … thanks,' he said lamely. 'But I'm not going to come back to the Order.'

'Potter –'

'No,' he said. 'I've given it a lot of thought … and maybe the Order just isn't for me.'

'Well, that is your choice, of course.'

'Yeah,' Harry sighed, looking out across the cemetery. 'You know, I'm not even supposed to be here.'

'Is that so?' asked McGonagall.

'Uh-huh. We were supposed to … well, it doesn't even matter what we were supposed to do. It was going to be the three of us, just like always. You remember, Professor. We always managed to get into trouble when we were together,' he said. 'But somehow, everything always ended up okay for us. Didn't it?'

'Yes, it did, indeed.'

Harry laughed harshly. 'This summer was supposed to be different. It was supposed to be better. Ron and Hermione were supposed to finally get together, you know.' He paused at this part, hardly able to bear the wistful feeling that arose inside himself. 'We were supposed to fight Voldemort and the bloody Death Eaters on our terms, and damn it, I thought we might even win. And then, after it was all over and Voldemort was gone, we were going to come home, the three of us were. Ginny was going to be waiting for me and everything was going to be okay again. Nobody else was going to die. You were going to open Hogwarts and … and it was just going to be good, for once.'

He felt Professor McGonagall's arm on his shoulder for a brief moment before he turned to look out into the horizon. The sun was setting and Harry sighed, remembering how he and Ron used to play Quidditch in the backyard as the sun set behind them, sometimes listening when Hermione demanded that they come inside before it got too dark, sometimes not. Sometimes, even, they'd convince Hermione to join them for a fly.

'Why can't things ever just be good?'

'You have the power to make things good,' she said softly. 'Your magic is growing stronger. Do you feel it?'

Harry did feel it, but he couldn't bring himself to care very much.

'I would like for you to train with me,' McGonagall said. 'I can teach you to use your power. You have already exhibited amazing skill. You have excelled in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Your wandless magic is especially strong. Remus Lupin tells me that you took out half the Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor with your wandless abilities. He also says that you saved the day at the wedding.'

'Yeah, but I didn't kill anyone.'

McGonagall paused for a moment. 'Do you want to kill them, Harry?'

Harry had thought long and hard about this, and yes, he wanted to see everyone from the other side dead. But not only that, he wanted to be the one to kill them.

'Every last one of them,' Harry told her, his stomach churning. He remembered the first time he met Professor McGonagall and frowned, because he had been so innocent and so optimistic, and now, he was reaching inside of his robes to grip his wand, the wand he would gladly use to murder anyone who crossed his path. 'I suppose that makes me just as bad as Voldemort.'

'Lord Voldemort and his followers kill because it makes them feel powerful,' she said. 'Does the thought of taking another life make you feel that way?'

'It makes me feel like shite,' he admitted. 'But … a part of me feels good about it. And it's scary. A part of me wants to do it, wants to see them cry out in pain and beg me for their lives.'

'Is this regarding what happened to Miss Weasley?'

Harry shook his head. 'This isn't about Ginny. This … this is about Ron,' he said.

'Mr Weasley would not have wanted you to become a murderer for him,' McGonagall said softly, and Harry nodded.

'I know. But if I had been to one to – to die, d'you honestly think Ron would've sat around twiddling his thumbs?'

'Certainly not. But is violence the answer?'

'They killed Ron,' he said, feeling frustrated that someone as smart as McGonagall couldn't understand his need to avenge his best friend. 'They killed Ron, and I'm going to kill them.'

'They did not all kill Mr Weasley,' she said.

'They certainly didn't save him, though.'

'I did not save him. Miss Granger and Miss Weasley did not save him, either,' she said. 'Are you going to kill us, as well?'

Harry laughed at this, because it was ridiculous that he was having this conversation with McGonagall. It was ridiculous that they were at Ron's funeral. It was ridiculous that Hermione, the most logical person Harry had ever known, thought Ron was alive when he was clearly dead.

Harry turned and met McGonagall's eyes again. 'If Snape was here,' he said, 'if he was here, right now, standing in front of you just as I am, would you do it? Would you raise your wand and kill him?'

'Potter –'

'He killed Professor Dumbledore! He pointed his wand and killed the greatest wizard alive without a second bloody thought! Does Snape deserve mercy?'

'No.'

'Would you kill him? Would you do it for Dumbledore?'

There was no answer.

'Would you?'

'Yes,' McGonagall whispered, and Harry unconsciously took a step back.

'There,' he said, knowing that he was probably staring at her in shock but suddenly felt unable to rearrange his face. 'You would kill Snape because he killed Dumbledore. It's not any different that me killing someone else on that side.'

'It is different,' she argued, 'because I am old and responsible for my actions.'

'I'm responsible for mine, too!'

'You are a child,' she continued, as if he hadn't spoken. 'You should not be forced into deciding whether or not someone deserves to live. You should not be forced to take another's life.'

'Well, isn't that a double-edged sword, Professor? Am I not the one who has to kill Voldemort?' he asked. McGonagall said nothing. '"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives …" Why is it okay for me to kill Voldemort because I'M HARRY POTTER AND I HAVE TO, but it isn't okay for me to kill the rest simply because I'm Harry and my best friend is Ron, and he was killed by one of them?'

McGonagall looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly together. 'I will not teach you to kill,' she said. 'But I will teach you to harness your wandless magic so you can do any spell you chose to. And … and it is not up to me to decide which spells they will be.'

'My wandless magic … it isn't as significant as you make it out to be,' Harry said, feeling self-conscious and slightly frightened by the fact that McGonagall had sort of given him permission to commit murder. 'I can't decide when to use it, anyway. It just sort of comes and goes. I don't think it's something that I'll ever be able to, er, harness, as you said.'

'Perhaps,' McGonagall said slowly, as though considering this. 'But it is worth a try. Surely you have noticed strange things happening around us lately.'

Harry almost grinned. 'I can do magic. Tell me one thing about that sentence that doesn't seem strange.'

'Stranger things than usual, then,' McGonagall corrected herself.

'How d'you mean?'

'Take the disappearance of Mr Ollivander, for example.'

'Okay. Um … well, I suppose it is an awfully large mystery, now that you mention it.'

'There is no mystery involved,' McGonagall said darkly. 'Voldemort has Ollivander and all of the others, I am sure of this. And do you know why?'

'Er, no,' admitted Harry.

'Your wand is the brother to Lord Voldemort's wand. Correct?' asked McGonagall.

Harry nodded. 'So … you think that Voldemort's having Ollivander make him a new wand? A wand he can use against me without it going all funny-like?'

'It is a possibility. Which is what makes your wandless magic so much more important. Lord Voldemort will be able to use his wand against you in ways he is not currently able to,' she explained. 'But you will be able to use your mind against him in ways you are not currently able to.'

Harry shrugged. 'Ron seemed to think that my wandless magic was a big deal,' Harry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 'He said it was wicked. He said that I could do some great things … but what's the point in doing great things if you can't even save your best mate?'

'You can prevent this from happening again to someone you love,' she offered gently. 'Regardless of your feelings, I feel it is important that you train with me. Please say that you will consider it.'

Harry sighed. 'I'll consider it.'

'Thank you,' McGonagall said. She inhaled and looked back up at him. 'I cannot pretend that I understand what you are feeling right now, Harry, because I do not. Ronald Weasley was –'

'You're right, you don't understand,' Harry said sharply. 'Nobody does. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find Hermione, because she's the only other person who could possibly understand, but for some reason, she refuses to accept the simple fact that our best mate is never coming home.'

He trudged away from McGonagall, unsure of why he lashed out at her, but knowing that it had everything to do with his, Hermione's and Ron's shattered friendship.

……………………………………………………………

'I think I'm going to go take a walk,' Ginny told Angelina.

'Do you want me to come with you?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, I'll be okay. You should go find Fred,' she offered. Angelina hesitated for a moment before leaving to go find her boyfriend.

Ginny's head was buzzing as she set off down one of the worn-in paths and looked around. There were so many graves, so many people buried in this cold, hard ground. And her brother was one of them, now.

No, he wasn't, because they didn't find his body. Ginny shivered, not wanting to think about what those bastards had done with Ron's body. The word Inferius came to mind.

Ginny knew that what happened to Ron wasn't her fault. She had to believe it, for several reasons. She'd go crazy if she thought that she was responsible for her favourite brother's death. She wouldn't be able to look her mother in the eye.

There was nothing she could do, anyway. She couldn't help that Lucius Malfoy had given her a diary when she was eleven and Voldemort was after her now.

It wasn't as if she'd known when she had gone to the pond during the wedding that she was giving Malfoy and Lestrange the perfect opportunity to snatch her.

Besides, she couldn't keep telling Harry it wasn't his fault – that it was the Death Eaters' faults – if she really thought it was hers.

A part of her wished that she hadn't been so close with Ron, though. If they had fought more, if they hadn't always hung around each other at Hogwarts … maybe it would've been easier to deal with his death. But, then again, it might have been harder. She might have wished that they had been closer. Really, in a situation such as this, there was no middle ground to grief.

'Do you want to kill them, Harry?'

Ginny nearly jumped when she heard Professor McGonagall speak.

She hadn't realized that she was close to them. She knew that McGonagall had wanted to talk to Harry in private. She knew that she should go …

'Every last one of them.'

Ginny felt her knees go weak.

'I suppose that makes me just as bad as Voldemort,' said Harry. Ginny shook her head at this, though he couldn't see her. Harry would never be anything like Voldemort!

'Lord Voldemort and his followers kill because it makes them feel powerful. Does the thought of taking another life make you feel that way?' asked McGonagall. Ginny crept closer and a branch snapped under her foot. She winced and held her breath, hoping they hadn't heard her. When their conversation was not interrupted, Ginny exhaled in relief and sat down on a nearby tree stump.

'It makes me feel like shite. But a part of me feels good about it, and it's scary,' said Harry. 'A part of me wants to do it, wants to see them cry out in pain and beg me for their lives.'

She could hear the pain in his voice and wanted to go to him, but knew that she couldn't because she wasn't even supposed to hear this conversation.

'Is this regarding what happened to Miss Weasley?'

Ginny wanted to cry at the thought that she had roused this sort of hatred inside of Harry.

'This isn't about Ginny,' he said, and she was almost too relieved to hear what he said next. 'This … this is about Ron.'

'Mr Weasley would not have wanted you to become a murderer for him,' said McGonagall.

'I know,' Harry said. 'But if I had been to one to – to die, d'you honestly think Ron would've sat around twiddling his thumbs?'

'Certainly not,' was McGonagall's answer. 'But is violence the answer?'

Ginny shook her head and prayed that Harry would come to his senses and quit talking about wanting to kill people.

'They killed Ron,' said Harry, as if this explained everything, which it did not. 'They killed Ron, and I'm going to kill them.'

'They did not all kill Mr Weasley,' McGonagall said reasonably.

'They certainly didn't save him, though,' Harry countered.

'I did not save him. Miss Granger and Miss Weasley did not save him, either. Are you going to kill us, as well?'

She heard Harry laugh and wished that she had picked a different spot to eavesdrop, because she couldn't see his face from where she currently was.

'If Snape was here … if he was here, right now, standing in front of you just as I am, would you do it? Would you raise your wand and kill him?' Harry asked, and Ginny felt her heart plummet into her stomach.

'Potter –'

Ginny felt hope at McGonagall's annoyed tone. McGonagall would be logical about this. She would talk Harry out of going after Snape.

'He killed Professor Dumbledore!' Harry exclaimed. 'He pointed his wand and killed the greatest wizard alive without a second bloody thought!'

'Oh, Harry …' Ginny whispered. He was so wrong about everything.

'Does Snape deserve mercy?' Harry demanded.

Yes, Ginny thought. He deserves mercy because you don't bloody know the facts. You're condemning him for no reason.

'No,' was Professor McGonagall's reply. Ginny gasped and sat up a little straighter.

'Would you kill him?' questioned Harry. 'Would you do it for Dumbledore?' McGonagall didn't answer right away, so Harry prodded, 'Would you?'

'Yes,' McGonagall said in a hard voice that made Ginny worried – so worried, in fact, that she found herself on her feet and about to scream at them.

Then, she remembered her promise and shut her mouth. She owed Snape her life and all she had been able to give him in return was her word. She wasn't about to go back on that.

'Get away from me,' Ginny demands, but he doesn't move.

'Quiet, Weasley,' he orders, glaring at her just as he did throughout five years of Potions classes. 'There is no time. Listen carefully.'

'Why should I listen to anything you have to say? You … you killed Professor Dumbledore!'

'Shut up,' Snape says sharply, and Ginny sees a flicker of … something … in his eyes. 'I am not going to help you if you continue to act like a brat.'

Ginny is momentarily deflected by this. 'You're helping me?' she asks. 'But you're on their side.'

'I am not on any side. You will do well to remember that.'

'I … okay, fine,' says Ginny, because what else can she say to that? 'But still. You hate me. Don't you?'

'Yes,' he says simply, and then turns away from her. He holds out his hand to silence her for a minute, his features twisted in concentration, as if he is listening for something. 'Like I said before,' he continues after a moment, 'we do not have much time. If you are ever going to get out of here, you will need to trust me. Can you do that?'

'No,' Ginny says truthfully. 'I'll try, though.'

'Very well,' he says.

'I don't get this. You say you're going to help me. Why didn't you just stay away from me in the first place? That would've helped me a lot.'

'Just because I am not on a side does not mean I want either side knowing that.'

Ginny felt her brow furrow in confusion. 'That doesn't make sense.'

'Yes, it does,' he says in a cool tone. 'Are you through asking idiotic questions?'

'For now,' she says hesitantly, because even though he claims that he's going to help her, she knows she can't trust him. Snape hates her. He hates her family, Harry and Hermione. He has no reason to want to help her.

'You will, of course, need to do something for me in exchange,' he tells her.

'Of course,' she says dryly. She should have seen this coming. 'What is it? I never pegged you for the pervert type, you know.'

Snape stares at her.

'Sorry,' she says, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze. He smirks. Merlin, she loathes him.

'It is a simple request; one I believe even you can manage.'

Ginny watches him intently.

'If you get out of this alive,' he says, and Ginny doesn't appreciate the way he says "if", 'you are not to tell anyone that I helped you. Especially Potter.'

Ginny doesn't understand. 'Why? Harry will kill you if he ever gets the chance to. If I tell him, then –'

'I do not need any favours,' Snape says darkly. 'Harry Potter and I are not, nor will we ever be, on the same side. He thinks that I murdered Professor Dumbledore –'

'You did,' Ginny mutters.

'– and if he chooses to come after me, to challenge me, then we will duel like men,' he concludes, ignoring her.

Ginny has to ask. 'Are you afraid of Harry?'

'Do not make me laugh,' Snape says. 'You think too highly of your little boyfriend.' He sounds revolted, but Ginny can't be sure if he is sincerely unconcerned, or if he is simply a brilliant actor. He played the Order like a fiddle for years. Perhaps he is just that good.

'How are you going to help me?' she asks.

'You must promise, first,' he says. 'Promise that you will not tell anyone.'

'I promise,' she says, wondering what the big deal is. She wonders if he realizes that this promise means virtually nothing to her.

'We need a third party to make an Unbreakable Vow,' he says, 'so I suppose I will have to take you at your word.'

Ginny nods, because she doesn't really know what an Unbreakable Vow is. She remembers Fred and George trying to get Ron to do one when they were all really little, but that's about it.

'When you are asked of what happened here, you are to tell them that I tortured you. Do you understand?'

'Sure. I understand.'

Ginny snapped out of it and hid as Harry marched past her, looking angry and confused. She knew better than to follow him.

……………………………………………………………

The man was reading a newspaper, one that Joe had handed him once he had finished with it.

There was an article on Harry Potter on the front page. The man didn't know why he cared so much about this bloke, to be honest. So what if he had saved the wizarding world, and so what if he might do it again? Was Harry Potter really that important? Maybe he was just some over-celebrated sod. Maybe he wasn't as great as he was cracked up to be. Maybe he wouldn't even survive this war.

For some reason, the thought of Harry Potter dying tied the man's stomach up in knots.

The man didn't really like thinking about the war and what it was doing to people all around the world, but he found himself anticipating each day, waiting for a newspaper, waiting for a new article on what Harry and his friends were doing. The man would read and re-read each story, his heart jumping slightly each time a new name, like Arthur Weasley or Percy Weasley, was mentioned. This time, however, the article didn't mention those names. The only one the man can identify, other than Harry Potter, of course, is Ginny Weasley. The article mentioned a deceased Weasley but did not give a name, and the man was unnerved to find that he was rather curious on the matter. He wondered who these bloody Weasley people were. Once, there had been an article about a Bill Weasley, and how his wedding had been ruined by some sort of attack. The man didn't —

'Don't get killed,' Harry tells him, and then runs off to fight, because that's what Harry does. Harry is the definition of hero and he wonders if Harry knows it. But Harry is gone now, and he must fend for himself. His thoughts are of Hermione, wondering where she is and if she even knows what's happening. He hopes that she is safe, that she is with Ginny and they are out of harm's way. Perhaps they will even be able to get help for the rest.

But then there is no time to think, because he's fighting and throwing out curses as if he isn't him – as if he's HARRY – and it's amazing and thrilling and he can't quite believe it. He feels afraid but oddly capable, as if this is finally his chance to prove himself as more than Harry's bumbling best mate. He looks around and all he can —

'You okay?'

The man gasped and jumped back, wrenching his arm out of the stranger's grip.

It took the man a moment to come back to himself, to recognize who he was looking at. With a start, he realized that he was expecting to see Harry Potter's blazing green eyes, instead of Joe's lighter-coloured ones, staring back at him.

'Whoa, what was that?' asked Joe.

The man was taking deep, shaky breaths now. He shook his head at his friend.

'It was nothing.'

'It didn't look like nothing,' said Joe. He seemed nervous. Joe ran a hand through his curly blonde hair and eyed the man.

'I'm fine,' said the man.

Was he?

……………………………………………………………

'Do you remember the first time we met?' Hermione asked softly. It was past midnight and only Harry and Hermione were still up. Thankfully, Harry had managed to talk Hermione into keeping quiet about Ron for the time being. He had brought up the excellent point that Mrs Weasley was still fragile. If she didn't believe Hermione, then Hermione would be in the wrong for telling a grieving mother that her dead son wasn't really dead (when Harry knew that he really was). And if Mrs Weasley did believe Hermione, the shock, combined with the stress of having a funeral for one of her children, could do something funny to her.

Harry nodded at Hermione's question. 'Of course,' he said. 'It was on the train.' Hermione smiled faintly and nodded, as if she hadn't expected him to remember and was pleased that he actually did. 'You came in asking if anybody had seen Neville's toad. Even back then, you had to be on top of everything,' he laughed. Harry was starting to realize that it was okay to laugh. Ron, his best friend in the whole bloody world, was dead and would never laugh again, but Ron would want Harry to keep laughing. Ron would want Hermione to keep laughing. So maybe, even though it felt sort of wrong … maybe it was okay to laugh. At least in the privacy of each other's company.

Hermione chuckled, but it sounded just a bit forced. 'You must have thought I was the most annoying person in the world,' she said, a hitch in her voice making her sound truly vulnerable for the third time since Harry had known her, the first being at the Yule Ball, arguing with Ron, and the second being during Herbology, talking about the Slug Club Christmas party with Ron. It seemed that everything always came back to Ron in the end.

'Nah,' he said. 'I thought you were nice … a little intimidating how you fixed my glasses and all, mind you, but you were nice.'

'You thought I was intimidating?' she asked. She tossed her head back and laughed for real this time. 'You were a living legend, sitting about five feet away from me, eating a Chocolate Frog as if nothing had ever happened to you. You were so … fascinating.'

'Good of you to watch me like some animal in an exhibit,' he said without malice. 'But really, I thought you were okay.'

They fell silent for a moment.

'The Sorting Hat tried to put me in Ravenclaw,' said Hermione. Harry sat up a little straighter. 'In fact, I remember being so pleased with that. I had read in –'

'Hogwarts: A History,' Harry snickered.

'Yes,' Hermione said with a smile. 'I read in there that Ravenclaw was a very prestigious House. Only the brightest witches and wizards went there and it made me feel like maybe I belonged somewhere for once, that maybe I had a place at Hogwarts.'

'You always had a place,' Harry said. 'With us.'

Hermione met his eyes and nodded. 'The Hat changed its mind, though. I don't know why, really. But I can't stop thinking about what things would be like …'

Harry sighed. 'The Hat put you in Gryffindor because it knew that I would need you if I was ever going to live past first year.'

'You're right … I did save your sorry butt a few times,' she laughed. 'Ron's, too.'

Harry tensed.

'Sorry,' she whispered.

'No … don't be sorry. We should never feel sorry for thinking about Ron, for wanting to remember him.' Maybe, Harry thought, he could use this as an opportunity to make Hermione see that Ron was really dead. A part of him was tempted to nod his head and agree with her, to let himself believe that Ron was alive and coming home any minute now. But prolonging the realization that Ron was gone forever would only hurt more in the end. Harry didn't want Hermione to hurt any more than she already had to.

She sniffed and nodded. 'He called me a nightmare,' she continued. 'He hated me.'

'He didn't,' said Harry. 'If he had hated you, he wouldn't have cared that you heard him call you that, or that you ran off crying.' He sighed and put an arm around her. 'Ron was brave … but at eleven years old, there weren't many people he'd go fight a mountain troll for.'

'He told me he loved me,' Hermione whispered, her eyes closing. 'But then he grabbed the Portkey and left.'

'Oh,' was all Harry could bring himself to say.

'He left me, even though he claimed to … to love me,' she said bitterly. 'Part of me thinks he only said it to get me to let him go after Ginny,' she confided.

'That's not true,' Harry said instantly. 'He told me. Right before we left … I told him I loved Ginny and he said it. And he said it again before he … well, just before.'

Hermione smiled. 'When I thought that Ron was dead, a part of me hated myself because I had wasted so much time fighting with him. I had insulted him instead of telling him how I really felt. I wished that I could just go back and do it over again. But maybe, when he gets back … maybe we'll have a chance after all.'

Harry knew differently, but he didn't have the heart to tell her that their chance had long since passed.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny rolled over and closed her eyes tightly, attempting to fall asleep. No matter how hard she tried, though, she just couldn't clear her mind. Maybe she'd need to start learning Occlumency from Harry.

'How long have I been here?' she wonders aloud when Snape returns. There have been four different shifts of Death Eaters (though there could've been more, perhaps she just passed out) in this room since Snape last left. Snape has come and gone twice since claiming he intended to help her, each time leaving her more and more confused with the situation. It feels like it has been days since she last saw Harry. At least, Ginny though weakly, only one of those Death Eater shifts had included a round of the Cruciatus Curse. She didn't think she could've taken any more than she had been given.

'I can help you get out of here safely, or I can monitor a clock,' Snape barks. 'Which would you prefer?'

'Sorry,' Ginny says. She isn't sorry, not really, but she figures that kissing Snape's arse will be the most effective way of getting him to willingly help her.

Snape, as usual, ignores her.

'May I ask you something?' she asks after a moment, and she is almost unaware of her politeness at this point.

'I daresay you will ask regardless of my answer,' he says, and it's the closest to a yes that Ginny is ever going to get with him.

'Who are you loyal to? I mean, it's not the Order and I don't really know if it's Voldemort –'

'Do not say his name.'

'Why shouldn't I?' she asks, genuinely curious. 'It's only a name, after all.'

Snape does not answer. She decides to switch tactics.

'Harry says you call him the Dark Lord.'

'I bet Potter says a lot of things and you do not ever bother to look beyond what he tells you,' Snape growls. 'Harry Potter is god to you.'

'And Voldemort is god to you.'

'You are annoying me,' he says.

'And you are avoiding my questions,' she replies. 'Who are you loyal to?'

Snape spins around to look at her, the swooshing of his robe creating a breeze and making her shiver. Or perhaps it is the look on his face that makes her shiver.

'Listen carefully, because I will only say this once: I am loyal to one person and one person only,' he says. 'I am loyal to Albus Dumbledore. Now, kindly stop pestering me, because I have already given you more than you deserve.'

Ginny doesn't say anything – partially because she has been ordered to keep quiet, partially because she is weak and does not want to waste more energy talking, and partially because she doesn't know what to say in response to Snape's comment. But the look in Snape's eyes each time they speak about Dumbledore really frightens her.

……………………………………………………………

'What do you mean something is wrong?'

'I don't know, Lucius. I don't understand it. But he's remembering. Everyday, when I give him the paper and he reads about Potter, it has an affect on him. He is asking me questions and I can't keep avoiding the answers, or he'll start getting suspicious. His memory isn't as damaged as we'd hoped it would be when we Obliviated it. The curse we used wasn't strong enough, I suppose.'

'You're sure that he's remembering? Perhaps –'

'He is. I know for certain that he is. Today, when I was with him again, he remembered something else. I could tell by the look on his face. He still doesn't trust "Joe" enough to confide in him, though.'

'Well, you're just going to have to work a little harder, aren't you?'

'Yes, yes, I know. I will.'

'Good. If all else fails, we might have to kill him. However, that is our last resort. Do everything you can to keep him in the state he's in now.'

'Yes. But I don't understand why we didn't do away with him when we first got hold of him. Why not just blast him away instead of sending –'

'Do not question the Dark Lord's orders.'

'I'm not! I'm merely wondering if it is smart to keep him as he is. Even from across the world, he is still powerful. He is still connected to Potter and Granger. That Granger girl is too smart; she'll figure this out, Lucius.'

'Perhaps, and this is why we are working on separating her from Potter as well. And the Weasley girl, she'll have to go, too. Once Potter stands alone, he will be easy to destroy.'

'That is true, Potter needs his friends. But … it will only be a matter of time before this one starts to remember.'

'Then try to get us as much time as you can. Once the Dark Lord defeats Potter, it really doesn't matter what Weasley remembers.'

……………………………………………………………