Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Clearly.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Homecoming
……………………………………………………………

'Harry.'

'Mm?'

'You have to get up.'

'No.'

'Yes.'

'But it's so early.'

'I know, love. But you have training.'

Harry groaned. 'No, I don't,' he said, pulling the covers over his face. 'It's Saturday.'

He heard Ginny sigh and he stuck his head out from under the blanket to look at her. She frowned and brushed the hair off his forehead.

'It is?' she asked. She laughed bitterly. 'I don't even know what day of the week it is anymore. How messed up is that?'

'Gin –'

'This isn't natural,' she said. 'I don't – I don't know how much longer I can take this.' She shifted and lay back down. 'I forget Hogwarts,' she said, looking at him with wide eyes.

'No, you don't,' he said. It wasn't that long ago, was it?

'I do,' she insisted. 'I mean … I remember what the castle looks like from the outside. But I forget the feeling I'd get in my stomach when the stairs would start to change with me on them. And I forget how pretty the grounds used to look when they were covered with snow. And how it felt to win the House Cup or the Quidditch Cup,' she said. 'I miss just sitting in front of the fireplace on a cold day with the rest of Gryffindor. Nearly Headless Nick … Professor Sprout … Hagrid …'

Shite, this wasn't good. Harry wasn't good with girls when they … when they acted like girls. What could he say, really? He spent every Monday through Friday at Hogwarts, but he doubted that telling Ginny that would cheer her up at all.

'I … I know,' Harry said, and it was a lie, but it was one that he thought Ginny needed to hear. 'But we'll go back, y'know. Once this is over, we can all go back. It'll be better than ever. We won't have to read about Death Eater attacks in the Daily Prophet every morning. We won't have Potions with Snape. We'll win that Quidditch Cup again. And we can skip dinner to snog in empty classrooms.'

She smiled weakly and looked away. 'Yeah,' she said. 'We'll get to do that again. But Ron won't … I guess that's what's got me so upset. I'm already starting to forget Hogwarts. What if I forget him, too?'

'You won't,' he said automatically.

'How do you know?' she asked.

Why did she have to keep asking questions that he couldn't answer?

He looked at her helplessly and she sighed. 'Oh. Harry, I'm sorry,' she said. 'I just … had a bad sleep, I guess … forget I said anything, okay? I don't want to become one of those whiney girls who cry all the time or anything.'

He wanted to tell her that there was a difference between those girls and her, and that she shouldn't ever worry about how she acted around him, but then she leaned forward and kissed him, hard, and his mind went blank.

'My mum,' she said against his mouth when one of his hands, which had been resting on her stomach, began to push up her shirt.

'She won't be up for hours,' he said.

'Mm … okay,' she said, and her breathing quickened.

……………………………………………………………

Monday afternoon found Ginny and Hermione in the sitting room.

'It's chilly outside,' Ginny said, looking out the window. 'At least, it looks chilly.'

'Huh?' said Hermione. She looked up from her book.

'I said that it looks cold,' said Ginny. 'You know … outside.'

'Oh,' Hermione said, and then cast a glance out the window. 'Yes. Yes, it does start cooling off in September.'

Ginny didn't know what was more pathetic: the fact that she and Hermione couldn't even seem to carry out a conversation these days, or that she was surprised to realize that it was, in fact, September.

Previous Septembers had always consisted of going to school and getting back into the swing of things. This time around, however, Ginny was stuck inside of The Burrow with nobody to talk to other than Hermione and her mum, sometimes even her dad and Harry.

'It doesn't feel like it's really September,' said Ginny. 'Does it?' she added, because she was starting to wonder if maybe she was slowly going crazy and the rest of them remained unaffected.

'No,' Hermione said after a long, pregnant pause. 'It doesn't.'

Hermione's eyes fell back to the pages of her book, and Ginny, desperate to maintain some shred of communication with the girl who used to be so much like a sister to her, said, 'So.'

'So,' Hermione echoed, but didn't look up this time.

Ginny cast around for a topic. 'It's nearly your birthday, isn't it?'

Hermione looked up. 'You know what,' she said slowly. 'It is nearly my birthday.' She laughed softly. 'I suppose I forgot.'

A year ago, someone forgetting their own birthday would've been some sort of crime to Ginny. But, being that her own birthday had gone mostly unnoticed this year, she was rather unsurprised that Hermione's was on the verge of going down that same path.

'We should do something special,' said Ginny. 'Eighteen … isn't that the important one for Muggles?'

'Yeah,' said Hermione. 'Actually … last summer, Mum and Dad had talked about taking a family trip to Australia just before this term started up, to celebrate. But it never did. And with everything that happened … we sort of forgot all about it, I guess.'

'Well,' Ginny said lamely. 'Anything we do won't be as nice as Australia, but we can have some cake. And presents.'

Hermione smiled. 'That sounds lovely.'

'Because, you know,' Ginny continued, 'I just think – with Ron d-dying, and Harry never being here – that it would be nice if we could have one day where we all settled in and had some of Mum's chocolate cake and shared a few laughs.'

Hermione didn't seem to hear much of that sentence. She frowned and set her book down in her lap.

'I'm not insane, you know,' she said calmly. 'When I say that Ron is alive … it's not because I've gone round the bend. He really is. Trust me, Ginny. If he was dead, I would accept it. But he isn't. I can feel it. And I think you believe me – I think you might even feel it, too – but you don't want to admit it to yourself.'

A part of Ginny – a tiny, almost insignificant part, but a part nonetheless – believed that Ron was alive. Or maybe that part just desperately wanted him to be. Either way, Ginny was not comfortable with where this conversation was headed.

'Maybe,' Ginny said, 'you're right. Maybe my brother is alive. But maybe he isn't. Maybe he's dead. Personally, I think I'd rather believe that he's dead.'

Hermione's eyes widened. 'Why would you say that?'

'Because,' said Ginny. 'If he's alive, that means that he's deliberately staying away from us. That means that he knows we think he's dead, that he knows we're all upset and hurting … and he isn't bothering to come home or even send us a letter, telling us that he's okay. My brother could be a real prat sometimes, but he wouldn't ever be that inconsiderate, and I think it's a disgrace to his memory for me to believe that he's out there and choosing not to be with us.'

Hermione's eyes flashed. 'I'm not trying to disgrace his memory,' she said firmly. 'Maybe there's an explanation. Maybe he's alive, but he's … captured. Maybe he's alive but he needs our help, and we aren't going to give it to him because nobody believes me when I say he isn't dead and we should be out there looking for him.'

'You think?' asked Ginny. 'You think that Ron is being tortured right now?'

Hermione drew in a breath. 'Yes. Maybe. I'm not sure. I think it's definitely a possibility. And it's the only possible explanation.'

'Then why,' said Ginny, 'can't you feel it?'

And when Hermione didn't have an answer, Ginny left the room.

……………………………………………………………

'Ready, Harry?' asked Kingsley.

Harry nodded and braced himself. 'Ready,' he said.

Kingsley raised his wand. 'Legilimens!'

Harry was eight, being chased through the schoolyard by Dudley and his friends as the rest of the kids looked on and laughed … he was in Madam Malkin's, listening as Malfoy went on and on about Quidditch and Houses and other things he'd never heard of before … he was listening as Cho Chang told him she was going to the Yule Ball with Cedric Diggory … he was in Dumbledore's office, throwing things around the room, feeling as though he might burst from all the hate he felt … he was kissing Ginny in the common room while all of Gryffindor looked on …

Harry was on his knees in the Great Hall. Kingsley was staring down at him, his wand clutched tightly in his right hand.

'Good start,' he said, though Harry didn't feel encouraged in the least.

'Again,' Harry panted, not realizing he was out of breath until he struggled to speak.

'Legilimens!'

He heard his mother crying, pleading for her son's life, and then there was a flash of green light … Voldemort ordered Wormtail to kill the spare, and then Cedric Diggory was lifeless on the cold, hard ground … he was watching on, helpless, as Sirius fell through the veil and disappeared onto the other side for ever more … he tried to move but he was stuck fast, and Snape was raising his wand to Professor Dumbledore's worn figure, and there was another flash of green, and then his hero was tumbling off the Astronomy tower … the battles around him were fast and harsh, but Ron seemed to move in slow motion as he jumped in front of Ginny and disappeared …

Once again, Harry was on his knees. He sighed in frustration.

'This takes time,' Kingsley said softly, and Harry did not miss the disturbed tone in his voice upon seeing all those awful things from Harry's mind. 'We can take a break, if you'd like.'

'No,' Harry said. 'Let's keep going.'

'Legilimens!'

He and Ron were going off to Hogwarts for the first time, and a ten-year-old Ginny Weasley was running alongside the train … he was in the Chamber of Secrets, choking on panic as he noticed Ginny lying on the floor, looking so much younger than eleven … Ginny was fourteen, demanding that she follow him to the Department of Mysteries … she was fifteen and they were dancing at the wedding, and he was telling her he loved her and couldn't stand to put her in danger any longer … she was sixteen and underneath him, moaning him name …

Harry wasn't on his knees this time, but he was breathing so heavily that he thought his lungs might burst. His head was throbbing like no tomorrow.

When Harry looked up, Kingsley's mouth was a tight line and he instantly regretted not moving on when it had been suggested.

'Um,' said Kingsley, looking somewhat uncomfortable. 'If you could just give me a moment, Harry … wait here.'

Kingsley left the Great Hall and Harry cursed. He shouldn't have let Kingsley see that. Ginny would kill him if she knew.

He stood there, trying to come up with a way to undo the damage of what had just happened, when McGonagall came in, looking rather severe indeed.

'Good afternoon, Potter,' she said, and Harry cringed. In the passing weeks, McGonagall had taken to calling him by his first name. He didn't have to think too hard to come up with a reason why she would have suddenly switched back again.

'Good afternoon, Professor,' said Harry.

'I just spoke with Mr Shacklebolt, and he said some things that I found rather interesting,' she said dangerously. 'It seems that there is one more thing I will need to teach you.'

'Er … what's that?' he asked.

'The Contraceptive Charm,' she said. Harry blanched. Oh, he knew what that was for. He'd never needed it, of course, but that didn't mean he'd never heard of it before.

'The – you – um – I don't –'

'Understand that I am not giving you any sort of permission, here,' she said. 'Still, this is something you will need to know sooner or later, and I have a feeling that, in this case, it will be sooner.'

Harry had never been so mortified in his life. 'P-Professor, I –'

'I assume I do not need to outline the reasons why one should use the Contraceptive Charm,' she said flatly. Harry just gaped at her. He couldn't even begin to imagine the shade of red he'd turned. 'Intercourse, Potter,' she said.

'I know!' Harry said quickly. 'I know what it is, I just … is it really necessary to –?'

'Yes. Pay attention. Now, draw your wand and repeat after me ...'

……………………………………………………………

'Harry!' said Mrs Weasley when Harry came home that night. 'Good, you're home. Arthur and I have to go to Headquarters for … some sort of emergency meeting.'

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'Professor McGonagall explained it to me before I left.'

'Right,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Well, Hermione and Ginny are already in bed, I think. If you hear any noises or –'

'He knows, dear,' said Mr Weasley.

'Yes, but … it doesn't hurt to say it again,' she said. 'Remember, Harry – if anything happens, grab the girls and Floo to Headquarters as quickly as you can. Do not try to be a hero.'

Something about her words stung Harry, and he caught himself just in time. He didn't want to snap at Mrs Weasley, especially since she'd only been trying to keep him safe with her speech.

'I – I'll be careful,' he said. 'Good night.'

He went upstairs, wondering why Mrs Weasley would feel the need to remind him that he shouldn't be a hero. And, now that he thought back on it, he realized that Mr Weasley had lectured him about this same thing last time they had to attend a meeting and leave Harry and the others behind.

Honestly, did they think he enjoyed trouble? Did they think he liked always having to be the hero? And, really, did they think that he'd ever jeopardize Hermione or Ginny's safety and make them stay at The Burrow – were it to be attacked – simply because he'd want to defend their house?

'Are you alright, Harry?'

He jumped, realizing for the first time that he'd found his way into Ginny's room.

'Huh?' he said.

'You seem upset,' Ginny said. She went over to him and put a hand on his cheek. 'Is everything okay?'

'Oh,' he said. 'No. I mean, yeah. I'm fine. I had Occlumency training today … it takes a lot out of me.' Ginny nodded sympathetically. 'Your mum said you were sleeping.'

'No, I've been doing some reading,' said Ginny. 'Come on.' She pulled him over to the bed.

'Are you going to read to me?' he asked, amused.

'No, silly,' she said. 'Arms up.'

Harry stared at her for a moment before realized she meant his arms. He lifted them and allowed her to pull off his shirt.

'You know, you may not feel great after training with Tonks, but you do look rather nice,' she said, and then squeezed the newly-formed muscle of his bicep.

Harry grinned. 'Like that, do you?' He reached out and unbuttoned her shirt. She raised her eyebrows. 'You're not the only one who gets to enjoy the view,' he said.

Ginny smiled. 'Fine.' She unzipped her pants and pulled them off in one smooth motion. 'Well?' she asked, her hands finding their way to her hips. Harry smirked and dropped his own trousers. 'Get on the bed,' she ordered.

'Oh, I think I like this side of you,' he teased. Ginny rolled her eyes. Grinning widely, he sat on the edge of the bed. Shaking her head, Ginny pushed him so he was flat on his back.

'Roll over,' she said. He obliged. He felt her straddle his lower back and he sighed contentedly when she put her hands on his shoulders, trying to work out the knots. 'Too bloody tense,' she muttered to herself. 'You need to relax, Harry.'

Harry felt a stirring down below and groaned when she moved her hands to the small of his back. 'Doing this to me isn't exactly helping, you know,' he said, and although he couldn't see her, he knew she was smiling rather wickedly.

'Well, humour me now and maybe I'll help you really relax when I'm through.'

He shifted slightly to relieve pressure on, er, certain areas, and gave into her touch. Her hands moved slowly over him and he knew she was trying her hardest to drive him insane, and it was working.

When she was finished with her assault on his senses – really, the term "backrub" didn't apply, because her hands definitely hadn't stayed on his back – he turned over and she straddled his hips again, then leaned down to kiss him.

She kissed his mouth, his neck, his chest; gently nipping at his skin and brushing her fingers against him with the lightest of touches. She rubbed her lower body against his and his head was swimming. He closed his eyes and panted in reaction to her touch, his mind screaming that he should stop, but it was too good and he couldn't stop, not when she was grinding against him like that and looking down at him like she wanted to –

It took all his willpower, but he managed to put his hands on her hips and stilled her. He was so hot and so desperate for release, but this wasn't right and how could he be sure, really, that this was what Ginny wanted?

'Maybe,' he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. 'Maybe this isn't a good idea tonight,' he said softly.

'Why?' she asked, and Harry thought she sounded fed up with him.

'I … I want you so much,' he said. 'And if you keep doing that, I'm not going to be able to control myself.' Ginny snorted. 'No, really … I won't be able to … stop … and … and I don't want us to do something that you don't want to do … because –'

'Harry,' Ginny said. 'Shut up. I – I don't want you to stop yourself.'

She doesn't mean that, he told himself. Still, he felt a pang of desire shoot through him at her words.

'The other day, we almost … we almost made love. And you stopped us. You said that I wasn't ready for that, and maybe I wasn't. But I've thought about it, and … I am now. I want to. I want to be with you. Really be with you.'

He rolled them over and looked down at her. 'You're sure?' he asked. He knew that the question was redundant, that they'd talking about this more than just tonight and she would never have said anything if she hadn't been sure … but he still needed to ask. It wouldn't do well if she stopped him halfway through because she was having second thoughts, would it?

'Yeah,' she said, and then smiled. 'I love you.'

……………………………………………………………

Hermione couldn't sleep. She wandered down to the kitchen, to get a snack, and maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe it was just perfect timing – or maybe it was much, much more.

Hermione had never, ever bought into the silly little things that most children her age had.

While her Muggle friends gushed over what Santa Claus had brought them for Christmas, Hermione had smiled and tried to ignore the voice in her mind saying, Reindeers can't fly … and there's no way one person can visit every house in one night, and even if it was possible, where does he store the presents?

The next Christmas, she'd waited up all night, and just when she was starting to question her lack of belief, she'd heard it: her parents.

Instead of being devastated at the slight loss of innocence, Hermione had smiled a nice, big smile, and finally allowed her eyes to drift shut.

She'd been right.

When she'd lost her first tooth, her parents had been very pleased. And the next morning, when she'd awoken to money under her pillow, she knew that it was from her mum, and not the so-called "Tooth Fairy". She had lacked hardcore evidence, though, and it sent her on a mission. When she wasn't eating or sleeping, she was wiggling that second tooth, the one that showed the most promise of falling out soon. Her parents told her not to force it, but Hermione was determined. Finally, after a week and a half, that second tooth fell out.

Again, that night, she'd forced herself to stay awake. She didn't know how long she'd waited there, but, finally, she heard the telltale turn on the doorknob and creak of the floorboards. Surely, the Tooth Fairy would have more stealth than that. Still, when her mum slipped that dollar under her pillow, she pretended to be asleep, and her mum was none the wiser.

That was how things worked for Hermione Granger. Even at a young age, she relied on logic. It wasn't logical to think that one person could deliver presents to every single child in the world in just one night, or that a Tooth Fairy would actually take teeth in exchange for money – where did the funding for all those lost teeth come from?

That was why, when it came to this business with Ron, she couldn't understand why she didn't see logic. It was illogical. Or, maybe it was so insane that it was sane; so inconceivable that there was, really, no other option that made sense.

And because of this new, irrational-but-somehow-still-rational attitude of hers, she didn't do what she should have done when she heard a strange knock at the door.

Every logical part of her brain screamed that she should run up to find Harry and Ginny, that she should Floo to Headquarters and bring Mr Weasley back home, just incase this person knocking on their door in the middle of the night didn't have the best intentions.

But the logical part of her brain had been put on mute, it seemed, so she tiptoed her way to the door and asked, 'Wh-who's there?'

'Hermione?'

She nearly jumped out of her skin. The shiver, the prickly feelings that shot through her were almost enough to make her knees give out.

She knew that voice. Oh, Merlin, did she know that voice. But … no, she had to use some logic. If it was just her at risk, she would rip open that door right now. But Harry and Ginny would also been in danger, if her intuition was failing her now, and she couldn't do that.

'Who's there? Who a-are you?' she asked again, hating how her voice was shaky and afraid and all but screaming, Is it really you? Have you finally come home?

'I – I'm Ron. Hermione? Please, let me in. Don't be freaked out,' the voice said. He started rambling, probably trying to get her to believe him and to open the door, but she was already on the job.

She couldn't unlock the door fast enough. Shaky hands desperately clawed and grasped at each one, and then, finally, she was turning the doorknob and opening the door, and there he was, with a nasty black eye, looking wild and dirty and tired and not quite right, but right enough that it was him, Ron. Her Ron.

And then her knees really did give out, and she would've tumbled to the floor, but he caught her and held her to him.

'Hermione,' he croaked. 'Oh, fuck. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.'

There were so many things she wanted to know. Where had he been? How had he gotten back? Why in the world did he need to be sorry? Did he mean it before, when he'd said he loved her? Did he still mean it now? Why hadn't he come home sooner? What did he plan on doing if she hadn't let him in? What did he plan on doing now that she had let him in?

All she could do was open her mouth and then sob, too happy and too confused and just too fucking exhausted to do anything but sink against him and bury her face in his chest.

Hadn't she said that Ron was alive, somewhere? Hadn't they all told her that she was wrong, that she was crazy and in denial and being an idiot?

'I –' she gasped against him. 'I – I was …'

'You were what?' he whispered, and it sounded as if he was maybe crying, too, if only just a little bit.

'I w-was right!' she exclaimed.

This wasn't good. No, this was good – Ron being back was the best thing she had ever and would ever know. But the way her heart was beating a mile a minute, the way she could hear the blood rushing in her head, the way she had to fight for each breath, the way she couldn't even support herself on her own two feet … oh, no, she was going to pass out. She was going to have a heart attack. No, she had to be okay … she had to stay with Ron. She had to find something to focus on, instead of the dizziness and the nausea and the suffocation.

'Stupefy!'

Hermione stumbled, but managed to grab onto the kitchen table and keep on her feet as Ron fell to the floor. She looked up in horror and found Ginny and Harry staring at her with wide eyes.

They'd Stunned Ron.

She pulled out her wand and pointed it at his fallen form. 'Ennervate!'

'Get away from there, Hermione!' Ginny yelled, as Ron stirred. 'That's not Ron!'

'Yes, it is!' Hermione shouted.

Harry glared at her and began again, 'Stupe—'

But no, she wouldn't let him Stun Ron again.

'Stupefy!' she shouted, so quickly that she took herself by surprise, and Harry fell before he could even get out the entire spell.

'Harry!' Ginny cried. She looked up at Hermione with shock and, yes, just a little bit of hate. 'Revive him right now,' she demanded.

'Why? So he can do the same thing to Ron?' asked Hermione. She felt Ron stand up behind her.

'THAT ISN'T RON!' Ginny screamed. 'Damn it, Hermione, Ron is DEAD! You revive Harry now, or you'll be seeing my brother again sooner than you think!'

'Ginny,' Ron said harshly, and his voice was rough but it was the same, and how could Harry and Ginny not tell that this was Ron? 'Ginny, I –'

'You!' Ginny exclaimed, pointing at Ron. 'You shut up. You are not my brother, and how dare you –'

She stopped when Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry.

'You get away from him!' she screamed, making her way to Ron with hate in her eyes. 'I mean it! I swear, I'll kill you if you so much as –'

'Ennervate!' he said, and Ginny stared at him with her mouth open in surprise. 'Hermione, you shouldn't have done that,' he lectured.

Harry gave a small groan and then sat up. He looked at the scene before him and then jumped to his feet. 'Accio wand!' he yelled, stretching out his hand. When it floated into the kitchen and Harry grasped it in his hand, he muttered, 'Incarcerous.'

Ron fell again, but remained conscious. Ginny fell to her knees and grabbed the wand from his hand, then grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her back to the other side of the kitchen, where Harry was.

'Who are you?' Harry demanded.

'That's Ron!' Hermione yelled. Why couldn't they accept that? All this time, they'd told her she was crazy, that she had no proof that Ron was alive. Now, he was there, in front of their eyes, and she was still the crazy one.

'Harry,' Ginny said quietly. 'He revived you. It wasn't me.'

'So?' Harry asked. 'That doesn't mean that he's Ron.'

'I know,' Ginny said, but Hermione thought that maybe Ginny wasn't sure one way or the other anymore. 'I just … still …'

'Who are you?' Harry asked again.

'It's me,' said Ron.

Harry repeated the question.

'Ron Weasley. Damn, Harry, don't you even recognize your best mate?'

Hermione frowned, because Ron's attitude was not going to help anything.

Ginny let go of Hermione's arm and took a step forward.

'Careful,' Harry warned, but let her move.

'I have a scar,' Ginny said, 'on the back of my neck. It's from Ron Weasley. And if you are him, you should be able to tell me how you gave me it.'

Ron said nothing for a moment, and Hermione silently urged him on. Why wasn't he answering?

'Well?' asked Ginny, still moving toward him.

'I can't answer that,' Ron said softly.

No. No, this wasn't happening.

Hermione heart sank. If he couldn't answer a simple question …

What if this wasn't Ron? Was that possible?

'Why not?' asked Ginny. 'My brother would know the answer. Are you telling me that –?'

'It's a trick question,' snapped Ron. 'It was Fred, not me, and you know that.'

Ginny's shoulders squared slightly, and Hermione thought she looked like a small, frightened child as she turned her back to Ron and walked over to Harry with an uneasy expression.

If Harry noticed any of this, he didn't show it.

'I'm going to stand here for an hour,' Harry said, 'and once that Polyjuice Potion wears off, we'll know who you really are.'

'Fine,' Ron said. 'But it's really me.'

'Then where have you been?' Ginny blurted out, and all Hermione could do was watch this entire thing play out, knowing that she would just have to be patient and wait until the hour was up, and they realized that Ron wasn't Polyjuiced.

'Silencio,' said Harry, and Ron's mouth moved without sound. 'Don't listen to a thing he has to say. It's all lies.' He looked back at Ron. 'If I were you, I'd start thinking of an escape plan. Once this hour is up, you're dead.'

'We have to do something,' said Ginny. 'If Mum and Dad come home early and see this …'

'You're right,' Harry sighed. 'I'll go get my Invisibility Cloak.' He handed Ginny his wand. 'Watch these two.'

Ginny nodded. 'Get my wand, too,' she said.

Harry left and Ginny waited a moment before lifting the Silencing Charm.

'I don't care what Harry said,' she said. 'You're going to answer my questions.'

……………………………………………………………

'I don't believe that you're my brother,' she said in a shaky voice. 'But – Fred did give me that scar. And I want to know how you know that.'

'Ginny,' he said in a pleading voice. 'It's me. You have to believe me.'

'I don't,' she said, but oh, she wanted to. And maybe she did, just a little bit.

No. He's lying. Don't listen to him.

But it was too late, she was already selling herself on the idea that her brother was home. It was such a nice idea, too. And so easy to believe, if she just closed her eyes and allowed herself to dream.

'When we were younger, I asked if you had any idea that the person talking through your diary was Tom Riddle,' the person pretending to be Ron said. 'You told me that you didn't. And I believed you. And now, you need to believe me. Please.'

'This is Ron,' said Hermione. Ginny could see the desperation in her eyes. 'I've said it all along. It's really him. Look at him. Can't you feel it?'

Ginny didn't know. This was all happening so fast. If this was really Ron, then where had he been all this time? Why hadn't he rushed home weeks ago?

She knew they were both waiting for her answer, but she was so confused and so afraid that this wasn't her brother, that this was a Death Eater who had Hermione (and maybe even herself, a little bit) wrapped around his finger.

'I know how insane this looks,' said the stranger, 'and I don't blame you for not believing me. But you have to let me explain. I – I don't even know how long I've been gone. Or what's happened around here. But why can't you all just give me a fucking chance? You're acting like you would if Malfoy walked into our house.'

'For all I know,' said Ginny, 'you could be Malfoy.'

'I understand that!' Ron said exasperatedly. 'But would Malfoy know that you have a scar on the bottom of your left foot from when you were five and you stepped on a piece of glass when the twins broke Mum's favourite vase, the one Auntie Muriel gave her?'

He remembered that? Ginny didn't even remember that day – the story had been told to her years later and she'd laughed, but hadn't been able to recall it.

'Would he remember staying up all night in Grimmauld Place after Harry had a dream about Dad and that snake? Would he remember getting completely smashed for Harry's birthday? Or going to Romania to look for that Horcrux?'

Don't listen to him, she ordered herself. They could've tortured Ron until he gave them this sort of information. This doesn't mean that Ron's alive. This doesn't mean that Ron is in front of you right now.

But even as she ordered herself not to believe, she could feel her resolve crumbling. She looked up at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly, and Ginny wanted to do something – anything – that would help her be sure one way or the other. But she could hear Harry coming back into the kitchen, and she didn't want him to know that she had betrayed him and talked to this imposter.

What if he wasn't an imposter?

'Silencio,' she said, just in time.

Harry came in and threw the Cloak over "Ron".

'Hermione,' he said. 'What the hell were you thinking, letting him in here? We would all be dead right now if Ginny and I hadn't come downstairs in time.'

'No, we wouldn't!' said Hermione. 'This is Ron! I told you Ron was alive and you said I had no proof.' She gestured to the floor. 'What more proof do you need? Ron is in this room!'

'That isn't Ron!'

'YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!' she cried. 'Why are you doing this? Don't you want Ron to be alive?'

'More than anything!' Harry yelled. 'I wish everyday that it was me and not him. But that doesn't mean we can jump every time someone – who, for all we know, could be working for Voldemort – shows up and claims to be someone that we had a funeral for.'

Harry had a good point. But then again, so did Hermione. Ginny didn't know what to believe anymore. She forced herself to be objective. If that was Ron, that would be … better than amazing. But if it wasn't … she would have a hard time getting over it. It was best not to get her hopes up, like Harry was trying to do. Still …

Hermione shot him a dirty look and folded her arms across her chest. 'What do we do now?' she asked.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table and looked at the clock. 'We wait,' he said.

……………………………………………………………

He didn't understand it.

The hour was up ten minutes ago, but when he'd lifted the Cloak, expecting to see the face of a big, ugly Death Eater, it was still Ron lying on the floor.

But this couldn't be Ron. Ron was dead. He wished with everything in him that it wasn't true, but it was, and pretending and stalling and making excuses weren't going to make that fact any easier to cope with.

'That's it, isn't it?' asked Ginny. 'I mean, there's no other reason why –'

'He could be a Metamorphmagus,' Harry said instantly, before she had the chance to finish her thought.

Ginny frowned, and he hated the fact that he had maybe just crushed a bit of her, but he had to be realistic. It wouldn't do well for him to declare that this was Ron, go shouting it from the rooftops, and give Mrs Weasley back her son, only to end up killed in the middle of the night by "Ron", who was really a Death Eater keeping up the act long enough to do Voldemort's bidding.

He didn't fancy the role he had to play, but he also knew that he was the only one out of the three of them who would be willing to do it. He and Ginny had started out on the same team, but she must have swayed, because she was now sitting firmly on the fence. He couldn't blame her. It wasn't as though he didn't want to believe Hermione's words.

But he had to be the bastard right now, because he just barely handled losing his best mate once, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to do it a second time. And he knew that Ginny and Hermione wouldn't stand a chance in hell.

'This is ridiculous,' Hermione said. She used her wand to lift the Silencing Spell put on "Ron".

'What do you have to say for yourself?' Ginny asked, holding out her hand to stop him when Harry made to put the spell back on.

'Veritaserum,' the stranger croaked. 'Give me some. It'll prove –'

'We don't have any,' Harry said.

'There's probably some at Hogwarts,' Hermione suggested. 'Let's go.'

'We can't just leave,' Harry said. 'What'll Mr and Mrs Weasley think when they come home and we're all gone?'

'We'll leave them a note,' said Ginny. 'We'll say we went to Hogwarts. Besides, we'll probably be back before they get home, anyway.'

He wasn't sure it was the brightest idea in the world, but what else could they do? They needed that Veritaserum. After writing a note that Harry figured was acceptable, he levitated the stranger and they all traveled to Hogwarts by Floo.

The castle was colder than it was in the day, and beside him, Ginny shivered and wrapped her arms loosely around herself. Hermione was walking ahead of them, beside "Ron", talking a mile a minute, but Harry couldn't even begin to comprehend what she was saying. It didn't matter, anyway, because she was only talking to "Ron".

'Hey,' Harry said, taking Ginny's hand. She looked up and he wasn't surprised to see tears running down her cheeks. 'Are you okay?'

'That's – I think that's Ron,' she said quietly.

He cursed. What had Hermione done to her while he'd been upstairs? Shite. This was going to kill Ginny if this person didn't turn out to be Ron.

'Ginny –'

'No,' she said. 'I – I know you're trying to be practical and not get your hopes up and all that other rubbish, but – but can you honestly look at me and say you don't feel it? That something about this entire situation is … just … right? He knows things, Harry. Things that only he could know. About me, and about you, and about Hermione. About the Horcruxes.'

'How do you know?'

She looked down. 'I – while you were out of the room, I asked him some questions.'

'And?'

'And,' she said, 'he answered them all correctly.' She sighed. 'I'm not going nutty like Hermione. Although, really, it might turn out that Hermione isn't so nutty after all …'

'We don't know yet,' Harry said. 'One way or the other, we don't have an answer. So … so don't get your hopes up, okay?'

'Too late, I think,' Ginny said, closing her eyes momentarily.

'Do you think there will be any already-brewed Veritaserum?' Hermione asked over her shoulder.

'Let's hope,' said Ginny. 'It takes ages to brew, doesn't it? We need it now.'

They made their way to Snape's office and, after rummaging through the countless different potions, they found what they were looking for.

'Got it!' Hermione cried. She handed it to Harry and he checked the label. It was Veritaserum, all right.

His hand shook as he poured a few drops into the stranger's mouth. They waited a moment to let it kick in.

'Okay,' said Harry. 'Ready?'

'Ready,' said Hermione. Ginny nodded and gripped Harry's arm.

'Who are you?' he asked.

'Ronald Bilius Weasley,' said the person on the floor.

Ginny's nails dug painfully into Harry's arm for a moment before relaxing again.

Maybe they hadn't waited long enough. Maybe the Veritaserum hadn't started working yet.

Or maybe this really was Ron.

'Who am I?' asked Harry.

'Harry Potter,' said Ron.

'When and where did we meet?'

'It was at King's Cross. The first of September, 1991,' said Ron. 'You – you didn't know how to get onto the Platform. My mum helped you. And then we sat together on the train.'

'And who am I?' asked Hermione.

'Hermione Granger,' said Ron with a smile.

'And when did we meet?'

'On the train. You came into our compartment trying to find Neville's toad and ended up laughing at my sorry attempt to do magic.'

'What magic did you try to do?' Harry asked.

'I tried to turn my rat's whiskers yellow. Didn't work very well, though.'

Harry looked up at Ginny and Hermione. All of their questions had been answered correctly …

'What happened on Halloween of our first year?' asked Hermione.

'You were sulking in the toilets,' said Ron. 'Harry and I saved your arse from that troll. Then you saved our arses from McGonagall.'

'Who was Fluffy?'

'The three-headed dog,' said Ron. 'Nasty little bugger.'

'What was it guarding?'

'The Philosopher's Stone.'

'How did we manage to get past it?'

'Played some music, that put it right to sleep.'

'What happened on the train when we were going to Hogwarts for our second year?' asked Harry.

'Dunno,' said Ron, 'and neither do you. We took Dad's car because we couldn't get through the barrier. Crashed into the Whomping Willow with it. Broke my wand in half. Nearly got expelled. Bloody brilliant, if you ask me.'

Harry could not contain his smile at the memory.

'What is the purpose of the Whomping Willow?' asked Hermione.

'Underneath it is an underground tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. Professor Lupin goes down there every full moon.'

'Have you ever been down there?'

'In third year. Sirius dragged me down there and you both followed. That was the night Wormtail got away.'

'Who did you go to the Yule Ball with?'

'Padma Patil.'

'Who did you want to go with?' asked Ginny.

'Hermione,' he said instantly, and Hermione grinned.

'How many times did you have to take your Apparation test before passing?' questioned Hermione.

'Twice. I left my eyebrow behind the first time,' Ron said with a smile.

'Have you ever been to Romania?' asked Harry.

'Yeah,' said Ron.

'To visit Charlie?' asked Harry. He couldn't come right out and say to look for Horcruxes because, even though there was no reason to believe that this wasn't Ron, there was still a chance and Harry had to be very careful about throwing around such information.

'No, you git,' said Ron. 'To get that Horcrux. We all had quite a time of it, too. Hermione got hurt pretty badly. Remember that? Scary as hell.'

Ginny took a deep breath. 'When you disappeared, where did you go?' she asked. 'Where have you been all this time? Why didn't you come back sooner?' The pain in her voice was obvious, and Ron flinched.

'I – I was in America,' he said. 'Some Death Eater – Amycus, he said his name was – erased my memory. Or he tried to, at least. It worked for a while. I couldn't remember any of you. I couldn't remember my own name. Amycus pretended to be a man named Joe. He befriended me and let me stay in his house with him – you know, so he'd be able to keep tabs on me without tipping me off, I guess.' He sighed. 'I started getting flashes. I was remembering things. But it wasn't enough … I couldn't figure out who I was, where I was from … anything. And then, one night, I remembered. I remembered everything. And Amycus must've figured it out. He tried to kill me. He – he said that you were all dead and that they had no use for me anymore. I nearly believed him, too.'

Hermione gasped. 'What happened?' she asked. 'How did you get away?'

'It wasn't easy, let me tell you,' said Ron. 'I had to fight him. And I kicked his arse. Imagine that. I slipped him some Veritaserum and made him tell me everything. He said Voldemort – yeah, I said it, Voldemort – wanted to wipe my mind clean and then put me under the Imperius so I'd fight Harry and – and do all this other rubbish. He said that he realized it wasn't going to be as easy as they'd hoped, and when he told Malfoy about my slow progress, Malfoy ordered him to just up and kill me.'

'So … what did you do?' asked Ginny. 'Where's Amycus now?'

'Well … he's dead,' Ron said slowly.

'You mean that you –?'

'Ginny,' Harry said sharply. Ginny stopped talking and looked at him with wide eyes. He shook his head, telling her to back off. If Ron killed Amycus … that was his business, not theirs. He did what he had to do. Harry would have probably done the same thing to a monster who'd deliberately kept him away from his family and friends for so long.

'Well?' asked Hermione. 'Do you believe him now?'

Harry cleared his throat. 'I – I don't see how he could be lying. I mean, unless what we gave him wasn't Veritaserum. But it was,' he added quickly, upon seeing Hermione's tired expression.

'What should we do now?' asked Ginny, and she sounded like a small child seeking reassurance from a parent that no, there wasn't actually a monster under her bed.

'Letting me out of these bindings would be a nice start,' Ron piped up.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and Harry nodded in assent. Pulling out her wand, Hermione released Ron from the spell that held him down and he stood, looking hesitantly at Harry.

'You're really back, then?' Harry asked, and already he could feel that uncomfortable burning sensation behind his eyes as he thought about what that statement truly meant.

'Yeah,' Ron said softly, so softly that Harry hardly heard him. 'I'm really back.'

Harry nodded and then felt it – that awful wave of dizziness that he'd experienced only after particularly bad injuries that left him generally oozing blood from his head or arm or stomach – and then everything went black as he passed out.

……………………………………………………………

Review.