The sun was on her face. Ginny grumbled, rolled over. A strange feeling washed over her – she was being watched. She lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. Snape was sitting on her armchair, and he'd opened the curtains. It must be seven in the morning. She groaned.

"What do you want," she demanded.

Snape glanced out the window. "Who has the ring?" He asked.

"Do you always interrupt people's sleep to ask questions?" She grumbled, sitting up in bed. Snape sneered at her.

"Just answer the question."

"Pansy Parkinson."

Snape grimaced, returned his gaze to the window. "And you can't take it, you have to get her to give it to you," he stated. Ginny nodded unnecessarily. Snape stood. "Get up," he said, "Hermione's having a nervous breakdown in her room. Merlin knows I won't help her."

And he left. Ginny groaned. "Why me?" She moaned into her pillow. She punched the bed a couple of times, but it didn't help her feelings of helplessness much. So she got up, dressed and wandered into Hermione's room. How did her establishment end up as one big house full of people who didn't pay? She wondered. She knocked on the door, didn't wait for an answer, entered.

Hermione was hyperventilating on her bed, curled up in foetal position beside her pillow. Ginny opened the curtains, then the window. She leaned over and slapped Hermione on the face.

"Ow!" Hermione exclaimed, looking injured. "What was that for?"

"For you to snap out of whatever that was. Now tell me what's going on. Snape just wandered into my room to tell me that you're having a nervous breakdown. And while I appreciate the concern, I really don't appreciate being woken before I have to get up. So start talking," she said, flopping down into the armchair.

Hermione shivered. "I don't know what's going on," she mumbled. "I'm still married…"

Ginny, noticing that Hermione was wearing her wedding ring again, groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Hermione, seriously, just tell me what's going on."

"I… I… Ginny, I kissed Severus."

"Yes, and… ?"

"Did you hear me? I kissed him! I'm married to your brother, and I… Oh, Gods, what do I do?" Hermione buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

Ginny sighed. She got up, sat on the bed next to her friend, put her arm around her. "Are you really still married to Ron?"

"Well… I mean, we aren't divorced or anything…" She mumbled between sobs.

"Hermione, there's a reason the magical world do marriage magically. Hold up your wedding ring."

Hermione held out her left hand, and Ginny took off the ring. The gold crumbled to dust, and Ginny blew it away. Hermione stared.

"Hermione, the magic's not out to get you. It's not legalistic, like muggle laws. It goes where it wills, and it doesn't like being forced. How did you feel when you married Ron?"

"I loved him, of course."

"That's not what I meant. How did the magic feel?"

Hermione cocked her head. Her crying subsided. "I… I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention. My mum was crying, Molly was crying, I wasn't crying but when I walked down the isle… My head was too full of my own voice to hear anything else. I guess the magic was there…"

Ginny nodded. "And then you went muggle, and didn't listen to it again. And your marriage suffered. Do you remember the handfasting vows?"

Hermione shook her head. "I wanted a muggle wedding. We had the Christian vows."

"Well, there you go. The handfasting calls the magic itself to guide your marriage, to steady your feet on the path. Do you feel married to him?"

Hermione sat, staring at her friend. Slowly, she shook her head. "No," she said. "Somehow, I don't. It's like… It's like that part of my life has melted away. The whisper of the magic in my blood… well, I was listening to it earlier, so I guess you know what it says."

Ginny reached out to take her friend's hand. "Yes, I know what it says. You'll be fine, Hermione. If you're worried about Ron, come home with me for lunch sometime. Or talk to mum."

Hermione nodded. Then she turned to Ginny. "I'm so sorry I'm complaining to you. I mean, you have no choice…"

Ginny shook her head. "There's always a choice. I could choose to let him die; then I'd be free. But I won't," she added to her friend's horrified look. "And the magic is just readjusting. The Paradise Pearls force the magic – they influence the power and influence of the owner. So they were hitting back at Malfoy. And I took the rings without permission, so they were hitting back at me. Though," she added, looking down at the plain copper band on her finger, "I don't know where all this will end."

Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand. "Suppose we'd better get up? Start doing some work?"

Ginny sighed. "I suppose I'll have to go and meet with Pansy."

"Pansy?" Hermione asked.

"She's got the other ring." Hermione grimaced.

"And you have to get her to give it to you?"

"Yep."

"Good luck."

"And good luck to you!" Ginny retorted. "I'm giving you the task of getting all the Paradise Pearls back."

"What? When did you decide that?"

"Just now," she said with a grin. "We can't have other people suffering from the backlash of the magic."

Hermione grumbled. "I suppose. What do we do with them once we've got them all?"

Ginny shrugged. "That's for you and Snape to work out."

Hermione scowled. "Fine." Then she smiled at her friend. "Now get out of my room."

Ginny jumped up, then steadied herself with a hand on the back of the armchair as she had a long moment of vertigo. Hermione looked at her worriedly. "I'm fine," Ginny said, smiled, then left.

She made sure she took her potion that morning.