Ronnikins

The clatter of Hermione's feet echoed off of the corridor walls, mimicking the rage that emanated off of her small form. Her hair swept passed her face in angry tendrils, holding onto her scalp for dear life. She knew that she was being dramatic, but felt that was the only way to hide both her emotions of fury and fear. The idea of falling in love with Malfoy was absurd, but in the back of her mind it was acceptable. She shook the thought out of her mind as quickly as it came. He was just a friend…a rather nasty git…oh who was she kidding? He was a nice man and rarely acknowledged for his true qualities. She had gotten to know his introverted, sweet, caring, and not to mention his wicked ways. Of course, he wasn't an angel and had his bad moments, but there was more to him than met the naked eye; she was just to darn blind before to have noticed. She was running away from the situation and felt like an utter idiot for doing so. She should be braver and should face the problem head on, but she was scared of the truth…scared of her real feelings for Draco and angry at the Minster for keeping the prophecy to himself. She would have it her way and no other. She didn't agree to this mission to be lied to and to be surprised in the first few weeks of her ill-natured fate. She wanted to know what was going on and most of all; she wanted to veer from her main worry…Draco.

"Ms. Granger!" a shrill voice called out for her. Mr. Lithgow was running or rather leeching his way to catch up to her. She was a good three feet taller than him and her legs were clearly longer, making his gait appear even more awkward than it already did. He gave up after a few moments realizing that he was a wizard. With a snap of his fingers, he apparated to the Minister's office. He wanted to warn the Minister of Hermione's vile mood. Only few people dared to apparate from the Department of Mysteries; there have been many plotting accidents. People were easily splinched around the mysterious rooms and ended getting lost between rooms. The rooms held magnificent power and only the most practiced witches or wizards could get away without harm. Mr. Lithgow had a bit of a struggle, but managed to make it safely to the Minister's office with a tight chest.

Harry was shaking his head in frustration. When he was assigned this job, the Minister for Magic did seem rather reluctant to tell Harry of the entire prophecy. He knew it was a bit fishy, considering that Malfoy was involved, but he would never question Dumbledore. Now he know why. If Harry had known of the concessions of the prophecy he would have prevented the whole thing from happening. He would have never set Hermione up to get hurt by Malfoy. Dumbledore should have known the trouble that the prophecy would have caused. Why was Dumbledore and the Minister so adamant that he be assigned the over-seer of the whole operation. He was Head Auror, but surly an Unspeakable would have been more appropriate, but then maybe they couldn't give out the identities of the Unspeakables. All these questions were welling up in him, making him feel very helpless. He hadn't felt this helpless, since Cedric died back in his fourth year. Dumbledore could be trusted; he had Hermione's best interest at heart. Dumbledore was an expert in prophecy, so who was he to question the authority of a man who helped himself through a very long struggle of his very own prophecy. If anybody knew about prophecies…it was Harry. He knew that once you were drawn into it…there was no way out.

"What's got your knickers in a knot, Potter? At least, you knew about the prophecy," Draco seethed. He was following Harry's very closely not looking forward to witness Hermione's wrath that was about to be released. She was about twenty strides in front of them. She suddenly stopped in front of the lift, and tapped her foot impatiently as she heard the faint bell of the lift far below them.

"You would just shut it, if you knew what was good for you," Harry angrily replied.

Draco put his hands up in truce, his smirk barely visible in the dark corridor, flickering shadows moving across the walls menacingly. "Easy Potter, I am trying to make light of the situation," he mentioned. He glanced in Hermione's direction and shook his head in dread. He had quite a few past experiences with Hermione when she was furious, but he had never seen her this livid. Part of him was angry with the whole prophecy deal, but part of him was curious of its meaning. His heart tugged at the sight of Hermione's angry form and it wasn't out of disgust. He was upset that she found the prophecy so revolting. She had reacted so rashly; did she really think so badly of him? Did he repulse her so? Her total disapproval of him ached in places he didn't even know existed. He thought that she was his friend, but she never fully forgave him for his past grievances. He was scaring himself with these thoughts. He was taught never to like mud-bloods, but here he was loathing the fact that she didn't like him. Oh, he was truly fucked up.

"Not the smartest thing to do at the moment," Harry scolded.

"Yea," Draco said half-heartedly, getting lost in his confusing thoughts.

Hermione glared at Harry and Draco as they approached her still form. Finally, as they reached her the doors to the magical lift opened up with a cheerful ting. Hermione grimaced at the sound, sighing in exasperation. She went to the back, crossed her arms across her chest, her eyes staring at an imaginary spot on the wall directly in front of her, ignoring the two men who stared at her inquisitively. They shifted uncomfortably as they watched Hermione. She was a time bomb ready to go off at any moment and they didn't want to be at the receiving end of her outburst. They gave each other nervous glances.

An eternity of tension passed before they ascended to the first floor. The doors wobbled open, displaying an extremely crowded Atrium; Hermione gave the boys one last reproachful look and tried to slip out of the lift, instead, an oncoming group of people tried to crowd into the lift at once trying to get to work. A tall gangly man, who looked oddly like Ron, but he had a beard, knocked into her, causing Hermione to stumble a bit.

"Watch where you're going!" she yelled at the startled man. She left quickly before he could see her and apologize.

Harry and Draco tried to push past the people stuffing into the lift.

"Harry? Is that you?" Harry stared at the man who had bumped into Hermione. It took a moment to recognize the man. The man stepped out of the lift; the doors closed slowly behind him, a man's tweed coat getting caught.

The red-headed man gazed at Harry with glee.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed. "What are you doing here? I thought you were traveling with the team. The season can't be over." he asked quickly, not forgetting Hermione. She wasn't supposed to be here. As far as anybody knew, she was supposed to be away for business, but considering her disposition, all his prior orders and plans were flushed down the toilet.

Draco was curious to Ron's sudden appearance. He heard through rumors that Ron had went off to play professional Quidditch for the Chudley Cannons as a Keeper. The Quidditch season was only half-way through.

Ron's cheerful face suddenly turned into a frown. He lifted his right arm, which Harry didn't notice was covered with a sling. "I fell off my broom playing the Scotland Lions and landed on a protruding rock in the Lions cavernous stadium. Broke two fingers, shattered the radius and dislocating my shoulder, completely tearing the tendon. Healers, put it back together, but my coach decided to give me some time off to 'rethink my priorities and to give my arm some time to heal' when it clearly is," he went to lift his arm to demonstrate, but a sharp pain went through his shoulder, causing him to wince, his face blanching quickly.

"Well, it's still a little sore," Ron looked at Harry balefully.

"So you were kicked off the team," Harry said matter-of-factly.

Ron nodded. "I am officially a retired Quidditch player." He lips were pursed, his face sour.

"I'm sorry Ron. That is terrible news," Harry placed his hand on Ron's good shoulder and tried to exude some comfort. "What are you doing here?"

"Harry when I was recovering from surgery, I put a lot of thought into the time I spent with Hermione. I really do love her and was stupid to let her go. I just wanted to get out and play for the Cannons, but she wanted to settle down. I wasn't ready, but now I am. Where is she? I wanted to surprise her," Ron truthfully replied, his face lighting up at the thought of Hermione.

Draco finally took the initiative to make himself noticed. "Weaslebee, if you don't mind. Mr. Potter and I have some rather pressing matters to attend too," he teased.

"Malfoy," Ron acknowledged, seething at the old school nick name.

"Mind it, Malfoy," Harry warned.

"Harry, what's going on here? Why are you associated with the likes of him," Ron said his screwed up in suspicion.

Harry shook his head and glared involuntarily at Draco. "Ron, it's strictly business."

"Yes, Ronnikins. Business," Draco mocked.

"Malfoy, why do have to be such an ass?" Harry mentioned crudely.

"I live for it," he smirked. Part of him detested Ron even more than before because of the relationship he had with Hermione. He didn't think that Ron deserved someone like Hermione. She wasn't a person that could easily be pushed to the side, so Ron could play Quidditch, and be picked up when something went wrong. She deserved to be treated better than Ron did.

Harry grumbled in his throat. "He's right Ron we've to go." Harry was trying to stray from telling Ron where Hermione was. He knew that she was over Ron and he didn't want to hurt his friend, plus something deep within him didn't want Ron to even attempt a go at Hermione again.

"Harry, do you know where Hermione is?"

"No," he lied straight through his teeth. " I think she went on holiday."

Ron formed and 'o' with his mouth and stared at Harry stupidly.

Harry ran off before Ron could ask where. Draco glanced at Harry inquiringly.

"Why you do that?"

"Well technically she is supposed to be on holiday as far as any of her close friends are concerned, even though that idea is completely out of the picture. I wanted to get rid of him." Harry admitted.

"Wow Potter. I thought your integrity would never falter," Draco snorted in amusement.

"Leave me alone. I didn't want him to start asking questions…not yet," Harry mentioned.

"Must be hard not to tell your best friends' about your worries," Draco continued to tease.

"That's enough! What do you know about worry? You've been spoon-fed everything since your unfortunate conception. You are a selfish, spoiled brat, who feeds on other people's pain because you can't handle your arrogant, demented, and callow ways. You-can't--handle--the--truth--of-who you are. To think that Hermione would have considered you as a likely partner is inconceivable. She's cleaner than that," he bellowed with no constraint.

Every syllable hit home. Draco just smirked in response, masking his real feelings. He didn't want Harry to have the privilege of knowing that he had hit a nerve within Draco. Harry shrugged off the after-effects of adrenaline that had flowed through his body. He felt loads better.

They both neared the door that belonged to the Minister's office and flinched at the loud voice that was coming from behind it. Hermione's voice reverberated off of the door, making it creak a little.

"WHAT I DON'T UNDERSTAND, MINISTER, IS WHY I WASN'T TOLD OF THIS--THIS PROPHECY. I AM A WITCH WITH FEELINGS SIR AND HAVE A RESPECTABLE LIFE. I DO NOT AND I REPEAT DO NOT WANT TO BE CHEATED LIKE I HAVE HERE!"

Harry opened the closed door slowly and peeked his head inside. The Minister was sitting down with his hands crossed in his lap and his eyes calmly on a very red Hermione, who was frantically pacing the room and yelling her arguments. Mr. Lithgow was standing in a corner that was a good distance from Hermione with his eyes on the ground, trying not to make any contact with Hermione's eyes. Harry pushed the door fully opened and walked inside, causing Hermione to close her mouth for a brief moment to see who was entering. She glanced quickly at Draco and looked away before he noticed. Draco placed a dark, unreadable gaze on Hermione, waiting for her outburst once more, but it seemed that she had run out of steam. Her face was beet-red and it looked as if she just spent the last few hours under Wood's command. The thought made Draco cringe.

Hermione looked at the Minister pleadingly and sat down in a heap, placing her head in her hands, combing her disheveled hair out of her face.

Harry glanced at the Minister's oddly calm face, waiting for him to say something in response.

"Ms. Granger, I understand your disapproval, but I assure you that Dumbledore kept the prophecy from you for your own benefit," he mentioned, his eyes glinting morosely.

"Minister, I believe that Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy deserve the truth," Harry sincerely said.

Draco was surprised by Harry's request.

"Mr. Potter. That decision is up to Dumbledore."

"But you are the Minister for Magic," Draco replied.

"Yes, I am, but Dumbledore is the expert in this matter."

Hermione was trembling slightly from her outburst, but nobody seemed to notice.

"We won't leave, until he speaks with us," Draco demanded.

"I understand son, but Dumbledore is a busy man."

"I don't care sir. Surely he can give up a few moments of his time to talk to two people who are supposed to save the world in a few weeks time or is it less," Draco sarcastically said.

The Minister looked between Harry and Draco and after a few moments thought, he nodded in a agreement. The Minister looked at a sleeping portrait on the wall behind them. Draco was surprised that the portrait didn't wake up from Hermione's ranting. Almost as if reading his thoughts, the Minister spoke.

"He can sleep through any racket," the Minster talked about the sleeping wizard in the portrait. He raised his wand and a pink strip of light flew and hit the portrait, rudely waking the wizard up.

"Hmmm. Wh-what? Where am I? Oh yes. Rufus. What'd you need?" the wizard sleepily asked.

"Doris, I would like you to tell Dumbledore that his presence is required immediately."

The wizard wiped his eyes and nodded. Seconds later the wizard disappeared through the door depicted in the painting.

"Doris. What kind of name is that for a man?" Draco whispered for only Harry to hear.

Harry glared reproachfully at Draco's immaturity.

Hermione looked up expectantly. Her face was streaked almost as if she had been crying. Draco wondered if she was, but didn't dare to ask. He met her gaze for a fraction of a second, his face turning a bright pink color. Hermione looked at him indifferently. Harry wringed his hands out of a nervous reaction.

CRACK!

A tall, slightly stooped man, appeared in the room. His bespectacled eyes sparkled; his silver hair glinted in the dimly lit room; his presence commanded authority. Everyone seemed to shrink in the room out of respect…not fear.

"Dumbledore," Hermione's shrill voice caught. She didn't want to offend Dumbledore by telling him that his judgment was terrible when it came to the prophecy.

"Ms. Granger. How wonderful it is to see you…and Harry, it hasn't been that long. Mr. Malfoy, I trust everything is well," Dumbledore's politeness seemed to put everyone in a better mood, including Hermione.

"Albus, I'm sorry to disturb you, but we have a rather urgent matter to discuss here. Mr. Lithgow, sort of slipped. He has told both Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy of the prophecy," the Minister rushed the last part.

Dumbledore conjured a comfy seat and easily sat it in. For his age, he was extremely limber. He leaned his chin on his fist and gave Hermione and Draco a calculating gaze. "I see. How did you react to the news?" He reassured Mr. Lithgow that everything was splendid with a sweet wink. The short man gave out a ragged breath.

Completely dumbfounded by his reply, Hermione stumbled for the right words. "React? Professor, how could you keep this news from us--from me. I am not a child. I have the right to know what I am getting myself into. I was absolutely livid by the news. What makes you think I would have done something like this if I knew of the prophecy and its requests?"

"Exactly my point Ms. Granger, you wouldn't have agreed to this mission if you knew about the Prophecy. I wanted Draco and yourself to create a friendship first before you learned of the prophecy. I didn't want either of you to feel as if this prophecy was a duty, like Harry did his. Love is something to cherish. The prophecy is elusive as all are. You aren't specifically meant to fall in love romantically. A friendship between enemies might just be enough. Hermione, understand the dilemma the wizarding as well as muggle world is facing. We all are depending on you and Draco," Dumbledore explained, giving Draco a stern glance.

"Talk about putting the pressure on," Draco grumbled to himself.

Dawning comprehension surfaced on Hermione's face. "Were you going to tell us?"

"Yes, when the time was right, which is now…apparently," he gave Hermione a reassuring smile.

Friends. That wasn't too bad, Hermione thought. "We are friends, Dumbledore," Draco said.

"Yes, but you two haven't completely gotten over your differences," Dumbledore said all-knowingly.

"Why do we have to stay together?" Hermione asked.

"Ms. Granger. Will you two willingly visit each other out of your own accord?" he answered smartly.

She thought about it for a moment. She shook her head. Draco secretly agreed with her.

"Do we have a choice?" Draco asked ominously.

"Mr. Malfoy, you have two choices. You either help and possibly live or go back to your rich life and die." The creases of Dumbledore's forehead were bunched together in warning.

"I see the odds are not in our favor," Hermione sourly retorted.

A/N: It has been a while, but I have been away and then my computer died. That was horror. Plus when I was in school, I had finals and lacrosse. Sorry that life got in the way. Updates will come, hopefully, a lot quicker. It has been a while, so do tell me what you liked and what you didn't. Much love.

Please leave a review…my box respects any nourishment it receives. Thanks. : P

Lilly