CHAPTER TWO: Revelations.

It had been a long winter. So long that Hermione could not recall the last time when the sun had last confronted the suffocating blankets of clouds and their enveloping darkness. So long, in fact, that the ugly site of the Dark Mark had inevitably become associated with the running of wet, crimson blood on the white snow-covered lawns of muggleborn homes and villages everywhere.

It had been a winter filled with brutality, uninhibited fear and mourning.

It had been such a long winter, and yet, winter had only just begun.

Hermione hugged the jacket tighter around her body and vaguely noticed other people doing the same as the powerful wind threatened to take it captive like it had done earlier to her cotton beanie. She was running, harder and faster than what she could ever previously remember doing; the fractured, crumbling sidewalk of Muggle London a blur as she sought her destination in haste.

Not allowing herself a few moments to catch her breath, she quickly turned a corner - paying no heed as she knocked into something or someone - and came across the rundown, old-fashioned department store, Purge and Dowse Limited. The 'Store's' window display had not changed since the last time she had visited and neither had its ability to fool Muggles with its out-of-date disguise.

However it was a constant. And in a world full of inconsistency and irregularity it almost brought a smile to her face.

Almost.

It had seemed like an eternity since the last time she had accessed the Hospital this way, usually opting to use magical transportation instead, and she could not fathom why she had suddenly deciding to use it now. Perhaps it had something to do with the panicked way Harry had sounded, or the possibility of being magically tracked from the Ministry. There were many hostile spies embedded within the Ministry, after all. Either way, she was there now.

Hermione looked around discreetly to ensure that she was not being scrutinized by any unwelcome attention. It would be horribly irresponsible should the secrete entrance to the Wizarding World's largest hospital be given away due to her carelessness. Mind you, she thought rashly, there were always spells for those sorts of occasions.

What was is that Ron used to say?

Rules are meant to be broken, Hermione. Why do you think they invented memory charms in the first place?

And while she completely disagreed with the argument, she could not fault his logic.

When she found that she could not discern any suspicious activity or possible wondering eyes present, she leant in to 'talk' to one of the unsightly exhibited dummies. It was odd, pretending to converse with an innate object, and no matter how many times she had endured such feelings of foolishness before, Hermione could not help but feel a little ridiculous with the situation.

Like on previous occasions the disturbing store display quickly vanished, as if it were only a thought up phantom, and as it disappeared so too did the cracked streets of London. She was surprised, however, to find that when she stepped directly through the magical store front and into St. Mungo's reception area she was not greeting by the usual Welcome Witch but was instead bombarded with frenzied photographers and journalists from various papers across the country.

"Miss Granger, what happened that night two weeks ago?" A reporter called out, attempting to grab her attention by waving his arms in the air.

"Miss Granger, we haven't heard a comment from Harry Potter yet. What has his reaction been to this tragedy?" Another one interjected.

"... Is it true that Percy Weasley allied himself with you-know-who?" A reporter to her right shouted.

"Miss Granger, any word whether Ronald Weasley has regained consciousness?"

Feathered quills were surging through the air writing titbits of information on anything interesting they could claim to have seen or heard from her. And while she was the best friend of Harry Potter, and therefore many would assume that she would be used to the high level of media scrutiny, Hermione felt uneasy with the attention. Especially given the questions they were asking.

Percy Weasley had mysteriously disappeared a year prior to the muggle village attack – now called the Rushcliffe Attack after the targeted local district - and with no subsequent confirmation of his death the rumours of him being in an alliance with Voldemort quickly surfaced. It was not an unusual proposition. With the war escalating many people had 'swapped sides' believing that it was their best chance at survival. Of course, neither the Weasley family or the Order believed the accusations. The Wizarding papers seemed to publish rumours about false murder plots and accusations of different wizards switching sides daily, and given the close relationship between the Weasleys and Harry it was almost a weekly guarantee that they would feature in some fabricated story. Hermione herself had been victim to the gossip columns on more than one occasion.

But could she be confident to confirm or refute any of the questions being posited? She was unsure. And given the seriousness of the allegations the uncertainty worried her.

Hermione was drawn out of her own contemplations by the shouting of a young reporter to her left. "Miss Granger, was there some sort of confrontation between Ronald Weasley and -"

"Back! Back!" Barked a short, plump man suddenly, interrupting the reporter. His mouth was set in a stern line as he attempted to wade his way through the crowd of reporters. "Let the poor girl through!" Hermione noticed that he was wearing a St Mungo's authorisation tag identifying him as being the Head Receptionist for the First Floor. Perspiration was beading down both sides of his cheeks as he waved his wand – his forearm jiggling dangerously as he did so - setting up barrier charms to ward off the reporters.

"Miss Granger," he said as he approached her, "sorry about all of this. They've been camping here for the past two days hoping someone like you would come through the store entrance..." In the corner of her eye Hermione noticed that the reporters were desperately attempting to counter the barrier charms. "...But I suppose you're used to this entire media circus, being Harry Potter's best friend and all."

Hermione did not feel that she had the energy to correct him, so instead she said, "Thank you for your help -" She re-read his authorisation tag, "Arnold. Is Ron still being cared for in the Carl Mogenson Ward?" There had been talk of moving him to the Janus Thickey Ward where the long-term residents of the hospital were held. Fred Weasley's objection ("Bloody hell, he's only been in here two weeks!") and Mrs Weasley's cry of dismay ("you think he's never going to wake up!") seemed to have quelled the suggestion however.

Entering the 'Carl Morgenson Ward' for what felt like the hundredth time in the past two weeks, Hermione walked down a long corridor filled with bustling Healers and self-watering plants until she reached room 24. The door was closed, which was now a standard Hospital procedure to ensure the security of the patients, and a large white board was hanging, slightly tilted, on the door. The white board looked ordinary enough until it coughed twice, muttered something that sounded like 'next time Malcolm loses a bet I am not ending up in a hospital with these stupid sick wizards' before demanding "Name!" in a raspy voice.

"Hermione Granger."

The white board rolled its eyes. "You're late, muggle-born witch. The rest are already inside." And before waiting for a reply the door suddenly opened and the white board resumed its initial ordinary appearance. Hermione was unsure what the procedure was if you were deemed a security risk and not permitted access. There were many rumours going around that hinted at some sort of exploding charm. For that reason, however, nobody was willing to test the claim.

"I had a friend who knew a friend whose friend worked in the 'Enchanted Bits and Pieces' Factory. He said that they use Doxy fairies. If they blow up, well, nobody cares about Doxy fairies." Justin Finch-Fletchley hadtold her one late afternoon prior to a Ministry meeting.

Hermione closed the door firmly behind her, glad that she would not have to deal with the irritable white board again. Well, until my next visit at least, she thought. She took a few steps towards the archway that led into Ron's hospital room but stopped suddenly when the rushed voices of Mrs Weasley and Harry reached her ears. They seemed to be arguing.

"I will not have him subject to such recently developed magic Harry!" Mrs Weasley's voice seemed to shrill in agitation.

"Not even if it would help him? We could find out what happened."

"We wait until he wakes up! He can tell us then."

"But -"

"No buts Harry. The decision is final."

"C'mon mum." Fred, or George (Hermione could not tell which), interjected. "We've been waiting for two weeks now. What if this could help him wake up?"

"We don't know that!"

"It's been trialled." Harry implored. "This will work."

"And what if it doesn't, hmmm? What if this makes him worse? I've read about this so-called trial. Tested on the Death Eater Amycus Carrow wasn't it? Didn't it make him insane?"

"Mum, he was already insane." One of the Weasley twins said.

"Yes, well, what if it made him even more so? We don't know!"

"The spell pulled him out of a coma." Hermione was surprised to hear the voice of Remus Lupin. "A coma that the healers said he would not wake up from."

She heard Mrs Weasley stifle a sob. Two days ago the Healers had called them all into a small room over-filled with boxes of tissues and told them the very same thing. "And what if it costs him something, Remus? How could we live with ourselves if -" She sniffled. "- if something happens? We've already lost so much. I can't lose Ron too."

"Molly, dear." said Mr Weasley. "How could we live with ourselves if we do not try?"

Hermione entered the room to find Mrs Weasley sobbing on Mr Weasley's shoulder. He was stroking her back as she brokenly repeated, "I... I can't lose another one, Arthur! I just can't!"

"I know dear," he replied soothingly. "But you heard the Healers last night. There's nothing more they can do for him. This may be the only chance."

"But Arthur -"

"What do you think Ron would want us to do, Molly?" Mr Weasley questioned gently, taking his wife's face gently in his hands. He wiped away the tears that were water-falling down her cheeks with the base of his thumb. "Because that's what we need to think about here."

"I... I don't know. I can't think."

"He would want us to try." Said Ginny. She was standing beside Harry who had his arm around her shoulder in support and comfort. Her eyes were red rimmed and Hermione could tell that she was trying very hard not to cry.

"I agree." Said Fred and George simultaneously.

"So do I." Said Bill, looking down at Ron's pale face as he spoke. "I cannot sit around for another two weeks and watch him deteriorate further." Hermione noticed that while Bill's red hair was pulled back in its usual tight pony-tail, the dishevelled appearance of it told her that he had not brushed it in a while. "And if Charlie didn't have to go back to Romania yesterday and he was here today I'm sure he would also agree."

'Hermione", Harry said suddenly, drawing all eyes in the room towards her. "What do you think?"

Hermione shifted her gaze from Harry to Mrs Weasley and then finally to Ron who lay prone on the hospital bed. His face was very pale. "I think we ought to try."

Harry gave her a tight smile.

After a lingering silence Mrs Weasley asked, "How long will it take?" Hermione could tell that she was still in two minds about the whole situation.

"The spell only lasts for ten minutes." Said Harry.

"And it won't hurt him in any way?"

Harry shook his head. "But if we're going to do this then we need to act fast. I have everything here and ready." Harry removed his arm from around Ginny's shoulders and made a move towards the hospital bed.

"You cannot do this by yourself Harry." Remus said gently. "You will need another to go along with you as well as an anchor."

Hermione was suddenly reminded of what Ron had said two weeks ago at the Rushcliffe village.

"It's escalating Hermione. It's getting more brutal, more dangerous. Harry needs other people. He can't do this by himself."

"I'll go." She suggested.

Remus nodded. "I'll be the anchor."

"What does the anchor do?" Asked Ginny. Hermione was surprised that Harry had not divulged all of this information to her earlier. They must have been fighting again, she thought. Hermione knew that it wasn't just herself and Ron who were getting frustrated with Harry's secretes.

"The anchor connects the people entering the memory to the real world. Without an anchor Hermione and Harry would have a hard pressed time trying to find their way back. Once ten minutes is up – regardless of what point they're at in the memory – I'll pull them out."

If anything, Hermione thought that Mrs Weasley looked more torn then she had earlier at with this new information. "Is it dangerous?"

"Ron won't even know..."

Mrs Weasley interrupted Harry. "No, I mean for you and Hermione."

"There were no complications when Remus, Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt performed the spell on Amycus Carrow." When this response failed to appease Mrs Weasley, Harry added as a reminder, "The spell pulled Amycus Carrow out of his coma."

That seemed to do it. The room suddenly had a fiercely determined air about it, as if those final ten words from Harry had renewed a hopeful spark in everyone present.

"What can we do to help?" Said George.

The next ten minutes were a blur to Hermione. If she was ever asked to recall what had transpired during that period of time she knew that she would be unable to do so. All she could remember doing was looking down at Ron laying prone in the hospital bed and being haunted by the blood that had covered his chest the night of the Rushcliffe Attack.

"Hermione, are you ready?" Harry asked gently, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Was she ready? Hermione was unsure. She was given no time to deliberate her uncertainty, however, as the next minute she found herself standing next to Harry with Remus' wand pointed in their direction. Her nerves suddenly intensified.

The spell was cast, and Hermione's world disappeared in a whirl.

Hermione felt nauseated by the sight that greeted her when the roaring winds and swirling colours had died down. There, only ten meters away from her and Harry was Ron. His usually flaming, red hair was dulled in colour by the dirt and grime that seemed to coat every inch of it, and his mouth was pulled into a tight grimace. His back was slightly hunched as he attempted to apply some pressure to a bleeding knee wound, and he was swaying slightly as if he could topple at any moment should he lose concentration. But none of that was the source of Hermione's nausea – or horror. There, directly in front of Ron, stood Percy Weasley. The dark look in his eyes was evident even behind his horn-rimmed spectacles, and his cherry-wood, 11 inch dragon heartstring wand was pointed unwaveringly at his brother.

"Can they see or hear us?" Hermione whispered to Harry. Her eyes strayed to Ron's wand which was on the ground and out of his reach.

"No." he replied. "But I think we should move closer so we can hear what they're saying." Harry squeezed her shoulder gently before progressing towards Ron's position. She followed after him.

"I'm Sorry Ron but this was the only way." Hermione over-heard Percy saying once she was within hearing range.

"The only way for you!" Ron grounded out harshly; his eyes were narrowed and directed solely at his brother.

Percy did not even appear to have heard his brother. "Think of what they would have done to mum… to Ginny!"

A spasm of anger flashed across Ron's face. "Don't try to justify your actions by using them! You only thought about yourself!"

Percy gripped his wand tighter. "Perhaps initially I only thought about myself. But how can you not see? The Dark Lord is attaining more ground daily! You cannot honestly believe that Harry and the Order can win now, can you? Or are you so blinded by your friendships?" When Ron did not reply Percy continued in a mocking tone. "You should have been sorted into Hufflepuff, Ron."

"And you should have been sorted into Slytherin!" Ron spat.

Percy shook his head disbelievingly. "It's called capitalisation. Better to be a wise man than a dead man."

"Better to be loyal and stand up for what you believe in than be a cowardly snake and traitor!"

Percy's eyes flashed dangerously. "Careful Ron, I could make this quite unpleasant for you." He shook his wand in warning.

Hermione barely noticed Harry taking hold of her hand.

"How could you do this to us?" Ron was saying.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!" Percy exploded. "Two more votes, Ron! Two more votes and I would have made candidature for Minister! Do you know what it was like for me when I found out that my own FAMILY voted against me?"

"Percy -"

"No! I don't want to hear it! Dad and Bill can go rot for all I care. They voted for Sheppard instead of their own blood."

"They didn't want to see you dead! The last three Ministers have been killed by Voldemort if you remember."

"It was MY decision, not theirs!" Hermione noticed that Percy's hand was shaking. "It's all I ever wanted! How many years have I been saying that I wanted to be Minister? Then they go and deny me that opportunity!"

"So you go and be Voldemorts lap-dog instead? Yeah... that makes a whole lot of sense."

"Why you -"

But Percy never got to finish the end of his sentence because a voice suddenly interrupted him. It was the last person she expected to hear, or see for that matter.

"Oie Weasley!"

Hermione had not seen Draco Malfoy since he went into hiding two years ago. She looked at Harry quickly and saw that the same surprise was splashed across his face.

"Not now Malfoy, I'm busy." Percy replied, never taking his eyes off Ron.

"Oh great," Ron was saying. "Things keep getting better and better."

"Shut up Ron!" Percy snapped. "This isn't looking good for you."

"Actually Percy," Draco began. He stood behind Percy with his wand raised. The sleeves of his robes were rolled up and revealed the ugly black ink of the dark mark etched upon his forearm. "Things aren't looking good for you."

Hermione was not sure who was more surprised. Both Ron and Percy blanched, and she could have sworn she heard Harry whisper 'what are you doing?'

"Wha - what's going on?" Percy asked uncertainly as he turned and looked over his shoulder at Draco. Hermione noticed that all of the confidence in his face washed away when he noticed the wand pointed between his eyes.

"The death eaters are about to show," Draco drawled. "To you know... ransack, plunder, and make a show of these filthy muggles. So I have little time to clean this mess up before they get here."

"The Dark Lord said that I was to -"

"Bring Weasley in. I know. I heard that memo." Draco interrupted. He twirled his wand between his fingertips lazily. He looked menacingly gleeful, Hermione thought. "But you see, I received a different memo."

Percy suddenly looked utterly terrified. "I've done everything he asked! I turned against my own family... I... I... I'm about to bring him my own brother! He promised me power in return. He promised me a position of superiority! I haven't let him down on anything he asked... I... I've done everything I could!" He rambled.

Draco rolled his eyes. "There are two things you need to learn from this situation. The first is that to the Dark Lord you are a pawn. Simple as that." Percy whimpered. "The second – well, actually, I'm sure there are many more lessons here - but the second is that you're not the only one who has the ability to change sides."

... not the only one who has changed sides. Hermione was sure she had not heard right. She glanced over at Harry but he appeared to be too interested in what was happening to register her attention.

"Changed sides?" Percy repeated dumbstruck.

"What can I say? I'm a chameleon. Look I really don't have the time to go through all of this with you. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." He paused to sweep his blonde fringe out of his eyes. "Now be a good boy and die with whatever shred of dignity – as small as it is – that you have left."

Hermione closed her eyes and waited for the spell that would end Percy's life. But it never came. "Hermione look", Harry told her.

Ron had somehow managed to limp off the ground and place himself between his brother and death. "Listen Malfoy, if you've truly changed sides like you claim then let him walk."

Draco looked incredulous. "You're stupider than I thought Weasley. Your brother was going to kill you. You realise that, don't you?"

Hermione could tell that Ron was trying very hard to block out Percy's blubbering ("Thank you Ron, oh thank you! I wasn't really going to turn you in. I was trying to protect mum... and... Ginny. Don't let him hurt me. Oh please, help me. Ron please!)

"No," Ron grounded out through clenched teeth. "I want him to be trailed in front of the full Wizengamot. He'll get what he deserves then."

Percy let out an anguished cry.

"Look at the dark mark," said Harry, whispering even though she was the only one who could hear him. "It has became more pronounced."

Hermione could not remember seeing another representative mark in person or in a book that looked so horrible and terrifying.

Draco gave a short laugh. "You don't have a choice, Weasley. They've arrived. You have one second before you die as well."

And sure enough Hermione heard the unmistakable 'popping' sounds of wizards apparating in the distance.

"Ron, Ron!" Percy was gripping his brother's sleeve tightly and was looking around wide-eyed. "The Death Eaters. They're here."

"No shit." Ron said.

Percy looked startled at his brother's sharp reply for a few seconds before he seemed to come to grips with the situation. "You came here for me. I mean, I told you to come." He said.

Ron ignored him.

"Your brother has the Dark Mark. Take him with you and the Dark Lord will know where to follow." Draco seemed to be reading Ron's intentions. It wasn't a difficult read. Hermione could clearly see that her friend was trying to come up with some sort of plan that would see both himself and his brother return home safely. The problem was that they were out in the open, with no reinforcements, and they couldn't apparate.

The clock was ticking.

"I told you to come. I told you I had something that would help Harry and the Order." Said Percy.

"I should have never believed you."

Percy seemed to take the comment in stride. "I know. Ron go. Leave me behind. Save - "

"How touching." Draco interrupted exasperatedly. "Is this what you so called Aurors do all day? Bloody stand around trying to die for one another when you could be saving yourselves!"

Hermione felt a distant pull of something behind her navel.

She ignored it.

"Ron, I want you to know something..." Percy sounded scared but determined.

Hermione could hear the far-away sound of a woman screaming. The attack had begun.

Draco raised his wand. "Use your brain Weasley."

"Kill one to save one. That's what he's -"

"Crucio!"

Hermione had just enough time to see Percy collapsed in on himself, fall to the ground and writhe in agony before the world once again went up in a whirl. She could hear Harry beside her shouting "more time! We need more time!"

But there was no more time. Their ten minutes was up.

When Hermione opened her eyes she saw the familiar surroundings of the St Mungo's hospital room. It looked exactly the same as it had when she left.

"Well, what happened?" She heard Bill ask. Hermione was not sure if the question had been directed towards her or Harry. But neither of them had the chance to respond because Ginny suddenly said excitingly "Ron's waking up."

All eyes turned toward the hospital bed immediately. It was true, Ron was waking up.

"Ronald. Oh Ronald." Mrs Weasley was crying in relief. "Wake up dear. C'mon, that's it."

"And here we thought we were going to have your Chudley Cannons exclusive collectable cards." Bantered Fred.

"What a bummer." Continued George. "We'll also have to put the limited edition pure-Veela Playboy magazine back under his bed too."

"Devastating." Said Fred.

But when Ron woke up he never acknowledged Mrs Weasleys tears or the twins banter. Instead, his blue eyes stared up at the ceiling unblinking as he whispered, "I think I killed him."

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