A/N: Thank you to those that have followed, favorited, and reviewed the story so far! I have decided to upload 3 chapters instead of the usual 2 this time, but I have reached the point where I have posted everything that has already been written. With my last semester of college starting tomorrow, I can't guarantee anything resembling steady updates, so I apologize in advance!

Also, really shaky science explanation coming up. Biology enthusiasts can feel free to laugh at me. :)

Enjoy!

Chapter 11

Layla, Ron, and I follow the receptionist to my father's new room, and as we approach I can see a crowd of nurses surrounding the doorway. Apparently my father being here is the most exciting thing to have happened since the end of the war two months ago. "You'd think Harry was in there signing autographs or something," Ron mutters under his breath. Despite the circumstances, I bite the inside of my cheek to suppress a chuckle. The receptionist was a tad zealous in meeting us, and I'm certain all of the nurses aren't whispering excitedly to each other about potential cures for my father's state.

"Out of the way, please!" the receptionist calls, and the nurses clear a path for us to follow him into my father's current room. As the receptionist explains the situation to the doctor, I noticed that my father is already well situated, emitting a light snore from the hospital bed. If I didn't know any better, I would have assumed that he was simply sleeping.
I must've lost myself in looking at my father for longer than I imagined, for the doctor's question startles me. "How exactly did you change your father's memory, Miss Granger? There are only a few ways that are known, most of which are irrevocable and all of which are unethical, to say the least."

I explain to the doctor that months before I took my parents' memories, I had looked into the other methods that the doctor referred to. One option I had experienced before, although only through Harry, was taking one's memory and putting it into a Pensieve. While it would have been a safer option, I did not have the time or the resources to take their every memory of me. The other option, the memory charm Obliviate, was simply out of the question as it merely erases memories. In fact, there's good reason to believe that Gilderoy Lockheart was on this very floor after accidentally casting it on himself with Ron's wand years ago. At that part, Ron's face lights up in recognition, perhaps surprised that I remember a detail from so long ago. I conclude, "So the only option I really had was dark magic, but I didn't use it for dark purposes, for what it's worth. Instead of taking their memories, I created new ones in which I never existed, in the event that I died in the war. That was the only way I could get them to escape of their own accord. I did what I had to in order to save their lives."

Dr. Brown nods emphatically. "I see. Well, thank you for your honesty, Miss Granger. Tell me, when you reversed the magic you performed on your mother, were her original memories restored?"

"Yes, thankfully," I say with a small smile, which elicits more encouraging nods from the doctor.

"Well, the files from the Muggle hospital indicate that your father is in a constant state of REM sleep, which explains why he isn't waking up. REM sleep is believed to help with consolidating memories. Your father's brain may be aware of the distortion that the spell caused and is desperately trying to remedy the issue, sort of like how we could medically induce a coma to help with brain trauma."

I nod at this, carefully considering this new information. Ron isn't as patient. "What does all that mean? Can you guys fix him or not?" He asks rudely from the corner of the room.

While I shoot Ron a glare, the doctor chuckles good-humoredly. "I am simply asking, Miss Granger, if-"

"I have attempted to reverse the spell on my father as well?" I ask, suddenly but fearfully hopeful.

Dr. Brown smiles, his cheeks dimpling pleasantly. "Exactly. And I can assume that you haven't, given your sudden change in demeanor. It may not work, but restoring his original memories may fix the distortion, prompting an end to his constant state of REM sleep since the 'injury' would be healed."

I am ashamed that I hadn't thought of this solution before. It is so simple, but I do have my reservations. "What if it makes matters worse?" I ask, my prior insecurities returning.

The doctor shrugs. "Well, he will be in the best place he could be in, then."

I take this to heart. Being friends with Harry and Ron over the years has trained me to accept risks that I normally wouldn't otherwise. Besides, as my mother has recently reminded me, my judgment has served me well. "I'll do it, but I'd prefer to be alone."

As Dr. Brown attempts to clear the room, including the overly interested nurses that are still lingering in the doorway, I exchange a look with Ron, who looks at me with a sense of worry and familiar protectiveness. I am warmed by his concern, but I simply nod in response. I started this particular journey alone, and I can certainly finish it alone if things go according to plan. After they leave, I walk over to my father's sleeping form, and my eyes sting despite themselves. "I'm sorry, Dad. I hope that I can fix this, but I'm sorry that it had to happen to begin with. Who would've known that being my father would have been such a health hazard?" I mutter darkly as a wipe a tear from my eye. "I love you."

I pull my wand from my pocket and recite the reverse of the spell exactly the way I had with my mother. The spell took more out of me than I expected, so I sit down beside him and catch my breath. I linger for a few minutes, just in case there is an immediate reaction. When I find that there isn't, I leave the room to notify the doctor that I did what I could. He explains to me that the restoration of real memories may still take time, and to not be disheartened that he did not wake immediately. "You should go home and get some rest. We will notify you if any changes occur."

I would normally ignore the doctor's request, but my body reminds me that although it is only around 4 P.M. here, it is well into the night in Australia. I just now notice how tired I am, only to have that feeling be replaced when my stomach gurgles in hunger. Perhaps it would be best for me to head back to the Burrow if nothing else can be done. After I thank Dr. Brown for his time, I search the hallways for Ron and Layla. When five minutes pass and I still haven't found the pair, I start to feel a real panic setting in. It is completely normal to get lost in a hospital, but after living in a war, my first reaction is the worst. They've been abducted, or killed, by Death Eaters. "Ron! Layla!" I call loudly, heedless of the strange looks that I receive from passersby.

"Hermione?" a familiar voice echoes, but it does not belong to either person that I called for. I follow the voice, rounding the corner to run right into a blonde in Spectrespecs.

I pull out my wand, paranoid about the coincidence. Why would she be at St. Mungo's? "What creatures pull the carriages to Hogwarts from the train station?"

"Thestrals," Luna Lovegood replies serenely as she moves to place her distracting glasses on top of her flaxen head. "I suppose we all would be able to see them now."

Although I'm incredibly unnerved by Luna's dreamy expression as she said the morbid truth, I can safely assume that it is indeed her, since she is the only one that I know that would pull off such a combination. I lower my wand shakily. "I'm sorry," I stutter. "Ron was with me, and I'm not sure where he is, and the past year has taught me to assume the worst."

"Don't apologize," she replies kindly as she takes my hand in her own. "He's actually with us. I was going to use the loo, but if you want, you can come back to the room with me after."

I nod, willing myself to be relieved but I'm still inexplicably wary. I follow her into the public restroom and splash my face with water from the sink as she goes into a stall. A minute passes and I already regret simply asking what room they were in - whoever they was. Although I know that was Luna, I am still worried about Ron. It dawns on me that this is the first time we have been apart in public, and I can't help but wonder if I will always feel this anxiety and helplessness when I'm apart from either him or Harry. Logically, Ron is probably with Layla, so I shouldn't have any reason to fear for his well being. Similarly, I hadn't worried too much about Harry the past couple of days since I knew he was with Ginny at the Burrow, but the thought of all of us being separated still fills me with an icy sort of fear that I can only hope will go away over time.

Thankfully, Luna does not take long enough for me to worry too much over the fact that I'm worried. As we make our way down the hall, I ask, "Why are you here?"

"He likes to visit them from time to time," she offers as an explanation, and I am frustrated by her lack of clarification.

Although Luna is a perfectly lovely girl, I have always been less than patient when it came to her flightiness and beliefs in things that I am certain don't exist. It also doesn't help that I am having an exceptionally long day, have lost Ron, and am currently unaware if my father will ever wake.

"Could you be any more specific?" I inquire irritably, but my question remains unanswered as we slow to a stop in front of a door. Eagerly, I pull the door open to reveal not only Ron and Layla, but Neville, who is speaking in dulcet tones to an older couple that is huddling together at the corner of the room. Only then am I reminded that Neville's parents have permanent residency at St. Mungo's.

"How'd it go?" Ron asks, a look of relief passing over his face. Maybe he feels the anxiety that I feel when we are separated in public as well?

It takes me a moment to realize exactly what he was referring to, but I respond, "Nothing has changed yet, but the doctor said it may take time. We'll have to wait it out."

Neville finally looks over to us, and after murmuring a few more indistinguishable words to his parents, heads to the doorway where we've gathered. "Hermione, it's good to see you! What brings you here?"

"She got a little too adventurous with her talents," Layla offers as a reply before I can react, smirking at me. Her face drops as she continues, "Seriously though, you know that I'm going to have to report this to the Ministry, right? I'm sorry, but I'm obligated by law."

"I wouldn't expect anything else," I admit. Even if I had good intentions, I did break the law, and I have no delusions that I am above the consequences of doing that. Performing dark magic on Muggles was inexcusable, but it was worth it to keep my parents alive, especially if my father does end up waking up.

"Layla, seriously? It's not as if she killed them, she saved their bloody lives!" Ron interjects heatedly.

As Luna and Neville share a look of confusion, I reply, "The law is the law, Ron, and I broke it."

"That's fucking bonkers!" Ron says, almost in a yell, causing Neville's parents to stare at him anxiously.

"Outside, please," I respond pointedly, grabbing Ron's arm. "Excuse us."

Ron begrudgingly follows me outside of the hospital room into the hallway. I whirl around at him once the door is securely closed. "What's all this about? You seriously didn't think that a Ministry of Magic employee, of all people, would let me get away with this!"

"I don't know, maybe! You are a major reason that bloody Voldemort is finally gone, for Merlin's sake! The least they can do is look the other way," Ron replies, running a hand through his fiery hair with frustration. I can't help but notice that his hair is getting long. It almost touches his chin.

"Maybe they will, but I'm not going to expect or demand anything. Nor am I going to shout at Ministry of Magic employees that have been nothing but helpful," I tack on, which causes Ron's face to redden. "People thinking that they are beyond the law - people like Voldemort - only lead to chaos and destruction. I'm just as bad as them if -"

I am suddenly cut off by Ron's lips on my own, his hands pulling me taut against the length of him. Despite my frustration, I fling my arms around his neck, but he pulls away to stare right into my eyes, his blue gaze burning into me. His voice is low. "Don't ever compare yourself to him. And you're not a martyr, you aren't going to make up for everything that we've lost by punishing yourself."

"I have no other choice," I mumble, overwhelmed and sufficiently distracted by his sudden passion. My body reacts regardless of the subject matter. "It's out of my hands."

His large hands are still on my waist, and his grip tightens. "I just don't want to lose you," he breathes.

The words are simple, but they touch me, and his hands on my hips are just too much. I move to open my mouth, only to close it again. Before I can form a proper sentence, the door opens, and Layla, Neville, and Luna file out. Ron pulls his hands away, but wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"We figured that it was safe to come out when we saw the make out session through the window," Layla exaggerates with a smirk as she closes the door behind her. Neville looks awe struck. Although Ron and I finally admitted our feelings to each other at Hogwarts when Neville was there, we weren't publicly snogging while others cleaned up the debris around us. He probably didn't know until now. Luna, on the other hand, just has the same dreamy smile on her face, completely unfazed.

I will my body to calm down, and I ask a sobering question. "When will I know what I will need to do?"
Layla shrugs nonchalantly. "Honestly, the Ministry is still bogged down with weeding out the traitors, as well as gathering up the remaining Death Eaters still at large. Prosecuting a war hero for doing dark magic for innocuous reasons probably won't be high on their to-do list." Before I could let any sort of relief sink in, she continues. "Even so, I would be prepared to stay in the country as long as it will be necessary. You'll be hearing from me if and when they decide to hold a trial for you."

My stomach sinks. I feel like they would have a cut and dry case. I admitted to doing dark magic, and my father is living, if not conscious, proof of it. Unless they choose to spare me on the grounds of necessity during wartime, a conviction would be inevitable. I swallow. "Sounds like a plan."

Ron looks positively crushed beside me, and I have a feeling that I don't look much better. Layla smiles at us kindly. "Don't let it worry you too much, love birds. Like I said, there's still a lot of time ahead of you. That, and I doubt they would want to lock up one of the brightest minds of your generation. Just keep living your lives. You guys have earned that." There is a pregnant silence, and I feel moisture start to appear in my eyes. Layla coughs. "And on that note, kiddos, I think I'll be going home. I have a mutt at my flat that I'm sure is thinking that I have disappeared forever."

I smile weakly at that, suddenly curious as to how Crookshanks is doing. I left him with my parents in Australia, but he did not make an appearance when we were at their house. He was always a skittish thing. "Thank you for all of your help with finding my parents. I'm not sure how I would have gone about it without you."

"Could've done without you ratting Hermione out and all, though," Ron mutters under his breath, loud enough for Layla to hear. I put a cautioning hand on the arm that is resting on my shoulders.

Layla, always the good sport, simply chuckles. "I'll miss you too, lover boy."

After telling Neville and Luna that it was nice to meet them, she nodded at us one last time and then Apparated. "Well," Neville starts a few seconds later, his face etched in confusion. "Care to fill us in on any of what you guys have been talking about?"

"Maybe over dinner? I'm sure Mum would love to have you," Ron suggests, coming a bit out of his surly state. The prospect of his mother's cooking never failed to uplift him.

0000

"Well, that was fast, and how sweet of you to come bearing gifts," Ginny exclaims as she hugs Neville and Luna. We Apparated into the Burrow's living room, which caused the startled redhead to hurl a Bat-Bogey hex so close to my head that it took off a lock of hair, which is honestly for the best. My hair is a huge tangled mess, and I feel like the ends are still singed from our fiery escape from Gringotts. I never got around to cutting it, and she saved me some time in doing that.

"Really, Ginny? You just about took Hermione's head off!" Ron growls fiercely.

Ginny rolls her light brown eyes. "As if I would miss on accident. I realized it was you guys in time." Turning to the direction of the kitchen, she yells, "Mum, we need to set four more plates at the table!" Behind me, I hear the stairs start to creak. I turn towards them to see Harry descend. "Um, actually, I'll go help her with that," Ginny mutters quickly before exiting through the kitchen door.

"I told her that I wasn't planning on going back to school," Harry offers as an explanation for her sudden departure. Clearly, that conversation did not go as well as our conversation surprisingly had. "Neville, Luna, it's good to see you. How did you four end up together? How was Australia?"

Fortunately, all three curious parties were in the same room, so I was able to relay the story without having to repeat myself too much. It wasn't exactly a terribly uplifting tale to begin with, given my father's circumstances and my expectation to face trial at some point in my life.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about your father, Hermione. I've read about much more serious cases in The Quibbler, and they all turned out fine," Luna assures me. This does absolutely nothing for me, but I nod at her politely. The Quibbler was the only publication that posted factual and positive news about Harry when all other media turned against him. I have made a conscious effort not to belittle it since.

The kitchen door cracks open, allowing Ginny's face to peek through. "Dinner's up!"

I begin to eat as soon as we sit down at our plates at the dining table, ravenous despite my anxiety. I am also grateful for the excuse to not tell every one else at the table about my misadventures. At least, not yet. Mrs. Weasley smiles at me in approval. "I'm glad to see that the trip to Australia has not lessened your appetite!"

I nod enthusiastically, hoping that her attention will be diverted to someone else. She gives me an odd look, perhaps because I must look like how her son does at most meals, but she shifts her gaze to Luna and Neville after a few seconds. "It's so good to see you two under better circumstances."

Although they didn't know Fred as well as we did, they were still invited to his funeral since they contributed to the war effort and were friends of ours. "Agreed, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for having us for dinner," Neville answers politely for the both of them. He and Luna's hands are clasped respectably on the top of the kitchen table. Although I had not anticipated the two of them being together before, it certainly explains why Luna was at St. Mungo's with Neville. It may also contribute to Neville's new, quiet confidence that had started developing around the time that we started Dumbledore's Army together. I haven't seen either of them much over the past year at all, so all of these developments feel quite sudden. It makes me wonder what else I have missed.

The rest of the meal passes rather quietly. I am unwilling to tell Ron's parents about the condition my father is in. From what I can tell, Ron seems to sense this, given the amount of attention he is giving his own plate. Granted, Ron usually bestows that much attention upon his food, so it may just be a fortunate coincidence. Harry and Ginny, uncharacteristically parted by Ron's parents at the table, seem to be unwilling to look at each other, much less speak. Only occasionally do Neville and Luna murmur to each other, exchanging soft smiles while they eat. Despite Mr. Weasley's attempts at conversation, Mrs. Weasley continually glances over at Ron and I every few seconds, making her curiosity known even if she has yet to voice it.

Too soon, my plate is completely cleared, and I start to feel the fatigue of the lack of sleep I had in the past couple of days has caused. Not that I've been sleeping well since the war. I want nothing more than to simply go to bed, preferably wrapped in Ron's arms, but even excusing myself to go to Ginny's bedroom seemed impossible given Mrs. Weasley's expectant glances. As if she were reading my mind, Mrs. Weasley opens her mouth to speak, but I realize something before she can let out a single world. "Harry, I completely forgot! How was your birthday?"

Harry looks at me as if I was hit in the head with what I believe is called a Quaffle. "Can't you tell by how thrilled everyone is at the table? It was the best birthday I've ever had," Harry replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ginny snorts in response. Her voice is harsh. "It's not like he values them. He clearly has a death wish."

The statement is alarming enough to divert Mrs. Weasley's attention from our trip. "What do you mean by that, Ginny dear?"

"Oh, nothing. He just doesn't value having a long life or those around him. That's all," Ginny replies contemptuously. Her face crumples a bit, despite the strength of her voice.

"What the hell are you going on about?" Ron asks shortly, his mouth still chewing on his third steak.

"It's not like I've kept my interests a secret, Ginny," Harry states irritably, ignoring the projectile piece of meat that flew out of Ron's mouth during his prior question.

"Yeah, well, part of me was delusional enough to think that you would get over your martyr complex now that the war is over. Clearly, I was mistaken," Ginny replies crisply, eyeing the chewed food with disgust. "Merlin, Ron, could you eat like a human being for once?"

"Ginny, be nice," Mr. Weasley reprimands mildly. Using his wand to levitate the piece of steak into the nearby kitchen sink, he continues, "Now, you two must know that your exchange is doing nothing to help explain what is going on."

"Harry, please tell me that you don't intend on doing anything dangerous," Mrs. Weasley hastily adds.

"Isn't being an Auror a safe position, Mrs. Weasley? I feel like they wouldn't have asked me if I was interested if it wasn't completely comfortable," Harry replies, his tone bordering on condescending. Fortunately, I don't believe that Mrs. Weasley picks up on Harry's brand of sarcasm.

"I take this to mean that you were offered a position, Harry? Don't you need to have exceptional scores on all of your N.E.W.T.S. to be an Auror?" I ask pointedly, distracting Harry from any further opportunities to take out his frustration on Ron's parents.

"Kingsley sent me a letter on my birthday, saying that the position was mine for the taking if I wanted it. I'm considering it," Harry replies, his green eyes avoiding Ginny's gaze determinedly.

"That's brilliant, mate! Congratulations!" Ron exclaims excitedly.

Unfortunately for Harry, everyone else at the table doesn't seem to share Ron's enthusiasm. Surprisingly, Neville is the first to speak. "You should do what you want, Harry, but it's not all that it's cracked up to be." I remember being in Neville's parents' permanent room in St. Mungo's a couple of hours prior. Their residence there was due primarily to the fact that they were Aurors. "Don't get me wrong, I'm still considering it myself, but it's definitely not a decision to be made lightly."

"I'm surprised that either one of you are considering it. Hasn't there been enough death without centering your life around it?" Luna inquires passionlessly, as if she was asking someone to pass the salt.

Although the tactless question startles everyone into silence for a few moments, I actually agree with Luna for once. "She has a point. Aren't you tired of danger and violence, after all that has happened?" I ask, although I already know the answer.

"Look, you guys don't know what it's like to go through the majority of your life with a single goal in the mind. Ever since I knew I was a wizard, I've always had some idea that Voldemort and I were connected, and that I was ultimately responsible for destroying him and what he stands for. Now that he is gone, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Being an Auror is something I've always been interested in, and it's pretty much what I've already been doing, so what's stopping me?" Harry explains heatedly, his gaze flitting to each person at the table.

Ginny glares at Harry at last remark. If looks could kill, Harry would be a dead man. Knowing that it is pointless do to so, I offer, "Passing exit exam scores?"

Harry chuckles humorously at that. "Something tells me that Kingsley wouldn't have personally offered the position to me if that was going to be a problem. I think I have enough actual experience to compensate for any lack of scores, anyway. Being an Auror wouldn't really change anything."

At that remark, Ginny stands abruptly and leaves the room without another word. A good moment passes where none of us says anything. I have a pretty good idea why she is upset, given our prior conversations, and I don't blame her. Before I can get up to follow her, Ron says, "Well, I don't know what the big deal is, mate, but I'm excited for you. It's bloody brilliant."

I roll my eyes at Ron's apparent lack of empathy. "One, Harry, you're being surprisingly cavalier about this. Two, Ron, you mean to tell me that you wouldn't be upset if, after being parted by war for over a year and constantly being put into potentially deadly situations, I decided two months into peacetime that I would take on the one of the most dangerous positions in all of the Wizarding World?"

"Of course I would be, you would be bonkers to do that," Ron replies, not quite getting the connection. "Hell, I wouldn't let you."

"I don't know what's more impressive: the fact that you can't see that this is the exact situation Harry is putting Ginny in, or the fact that you think you can LET me do anything," I exclaim sharply, glaring at him. I'm exhausted, so I might be more severe than I usually would be, but I feel that it needs to be said.

"Wait a minute, I didn't mean it like that," Ron replies shakily. "Besides, it's different with Harry."

"How is it different with Harry?" I want to scream, but I am all too aware of present company.

"Because this is his thing! This is what we both wanted to do for quite some time." Ron's tone suggests that this should be the end of the issue, which only increases my irritation.

"Well, after everything, do you still want to do it anymore?" Luna asks calmly, startling the two of us.

Ron heatedly replies, "Yeah, maybe! Kingsley hasn't exactly asked me, so why does it matter? I can totally see why Harry wants to do it." This causes me to do a double take. I'm somewhat surprised.

Before anyone can respond, Harry says coldly, "As much as I love everyone judging me for choices that I haven't even made yet, I'm going to ask that we stop talking about this."

Another awkward pause occurs. Between my frustration with Ron's admission and my sleep deprivation, I would like very much to leave the room. Unfortunately for my sleep schedule, I feel like a conversation with Ginny in her room is on the horizon. Before I can excuse myself, Mrs. Weasley says, "Very well, dear. Hermione, tell us about your trip. How are your parents?"

Much to my chagrin, I find that I can no longer avoid this conversation. Much like how I told my mum about the war, I explain a rather censored version of the trip. With that being said, I am not able to leave out much, considering the fact that I had to tell them that my dad was at St. Mungo's in a coma.

"Hermione, dear, that's dreadful! Absolutely dreadful," Mrs. Weasley cries fretfully, looking at me with large, watery blue eyes as tears stream down her face. I'd hate to see her reaction regarding a future trial for my illegal use of dark magic, so I decide to spare her this detail tonight for all of our sakes.

"Yes, well, I'm glad that my mum is back to normal and my dad is getting the best care that he can get," I say in a manner that is artificially off-hand for the turmoil I feel, but I can safely assume that any display of emotion is going to set Mrs. Weasley off even more. Frankly, I was never very good at handling other's emotional displays, as much as I once reprimanded Ron for similar reasons. Even though I have no problem with being emotional myself, witnessing it in others always made me resort to the logical, pragmatic side of me.

"Yes, those are things that we definitely can be thankful for," Mr. Weasley replies solidly as he rubs his wife's back comfortingly.

Ron raises his long arms in a stretch and emits a loud yawn, although he is also clearly uncomfortable with his mother's outburst. "Well, now that we've been properly interrogated, can we get to bed now? Our sleeping habits have been shite the past few days because of the time zone changes."

Although I flinch at the curse word, I am grateful for Ron's interjection. "Although I'm happy to tell you anything you'd like, I am exhausted," I add on, hoping to smooth the edges of Ron's request.

"Of course," Mrs. Weasley replies weakly, although her tears have lessened considerably. "How silly of me, I hadn't thought about that. You guys should get to bed."

After bidding farewell to Neville and Luna, we make our way up to the higher stories on the Weasley's towering home. I say, "Harry, I'm sorry about earlier, but I really think you need to think about the consequences of this decision. This is your chance to lead a normal life! Why throw it away?"

Harry lets out an exasperated sigh. "Hermione, please let it go. I know it's hard to understand, but you aren't me. I've had this mindset for so long that I don't see any other option. I want this."

Admittedly, I have so many interests that I find it difficult to relate to Harry's position, but I can try to understand it.

"There are always options, Harry. But it's your call."

When we make it to Ron's bedroom, Ron plants a sleepy kiss in my hair, which kind of softens my prior frustration with him. Harry rolls his green eyes and says, "Good night, Hermione."

Soon after, I brace myself for seeing Ginny, but find that she is calmly collected. She has changed into pajamas, and her beautiful long hair is parted into two braids. "Before you mention it," Ginny says as I enter her bedroom. "I'm aware that it is Harry's decision. I understand how awesome this opportunity is for him, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it. I'm just tired of feeling disregarded. I don't know if I can do this again, Hermione. It hurt so much the first time, and -"

I interrupt her with a hug, for unlike Harry's reasoning, this is something I can empathize with.