Harry Potter Is Dead

Chapter 14 | Return to Hogwarts


Ron gripped his wand tighter in his sweating palm. For a moment he was frozen, staring at Luna, thoughts racing too quickly for any of them to make sense. Now? was all Ron was able to come up with. Oh, bloody hell, not now. I'm not ready. Don't make me do this, please -

"How much time do we have?" asked Mr. Weasley shortly. Ron started.

"Now much." replied Luna. "We need to go immediately, by the sound of it."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "I'll notify anyone that might be willing to help us." Without another word, he swept out of the room and down the stairs. Ron was offset by his father's calm; it was almost businesslike.

"I'll go and tell mum." said Bill, a sense of urgency and purpose ringing in his voice. "The rest of you, let's get downstairs and be ready to go as soon as everyone shows up." One by one, Ron's siblings and Luna filed out of the room as nonchalantly as if they were strolling through a park. None of them were shaking like he was.

When he was all alone in the room, Ron let out a puff of air and began to pace. He wondered, yet again, why he wasn't used to this sort of thing by now. Harry would have been out the door in five minutes, cool as a cucumber, ready to face any number of Death Eaters and giant spiders and god knows whatever else would have come his way. And then there was Ron, lagging behind, always second guessing. God damn it, he thought, kicking a chair in frustration. I wish he were here. Ron easily could have grabbed the Resurrection Stone and talked to Harry right then and there, but he found himself quickly pushing the idea away. He did not think he could stand the look in Harry's eyes if he knew that Ron was doubting again.

The pacing was doing nothing to stop the weak feeling in his legs, and so Ron stepped into the hall and opened the window in the hope that the cool night air on his face would calm him a bit. Several floors below, he could hear his father speaking hurriedly into the fireplace. Soon the Burrow would be swarmed with friends of the Order, moving through the kitchen and our into the back garden, where Ron supposed either Mr. Weasley or Bill would quickly run them through the plan once more before they left. Not that there was much they had to do, anyway, considering the night's success basically depended on Ron's and Hermione's success, and theirs alone . . .

A soft noise in the landing made Ron turn. He prepared to defend himself against George's jovial accusations that he was nothing but a coward, but it was Hermione standing at the top of the stairs, not his brother. Immediately Ron relaxed. He knew she was the one person for whom he did not have to pretend. She approached, and without question he folded her into his arms. Ron did not know how long he and Hermione held each other, but when he released her, his hands were no longer shaking.

"Your dad's just Flooed the Order. They should be arriving any minute." Hermione said. She crossed her arms and leaned out the open window, so that the cool night wind waved her hair back and forth. For a few moments she stared out at the stars in the sky, listening to the hum of the cicadas in the orchard. Then she let out a long sigh. "This is it, Ron."

"It is." he said. "Doesn't seem real, does it?"

"No." Hermione breathed. "Ron, I'm so afraid." He could not think of anything to say, so he put his arm around her, trying to comfort her in any way he could. But Hermione continued right along, voicing her fears with an air of talking to herself. "I mean, I've just been keeping myself awake every night for the past few weeks just thinking about it, all the things that could go wrong, all the ways we could - "

But she caught sight of Ron's expression and stopped short, clearly affronted. He was making a great effort to hide his smile, aware that it was tactless, but he could not stop the grin from spreading across his face. Hermione gave him a reproachful look, and he coughed, red but still grinning.

"You think it's funny that we're about to risk our lives for - " She began hotly, shocked, but Ron cut across her and took her hands in his.

"No, no, Hermione, it's not that! It's just . . . stupid, really. It's almost like . . . we're back at Hogwarts, and there's exams coming up. You were already out of your head worrying about it a few weeks ago, but me . . . yesterday I was fine, and now I can't sit still. Waited to the last minute as usual."

This made her laugh as well; but by then the grin had faded from Ron's face. She looked at him, probably noting the dark circles under his eyes and the twitch in his fingers. His brief happiness had been replaced by a humorless expression that was more like a grimace than a smile. "Ron, are you all right?" She asked. "Ron?"

"You know, it is funny, actually." Ron began, though there was no trace of amusement left in his tone. "I'm not scared, you know, of failing or messing up like you've been saying you are. It's - it's something different."

Ron felt Hermione's hand slide up his arm and onto his shoulder, where it moved in small, comforting circles. He could tell that she was looking at him with concern, her head tilted to the side so that her bushy wind-blown hair fell all over her face. And yet Ron could not bring himself to make eye contact. He focused instead on chipping faded paint away from the old windowsill just for something to do.

"It's more like . . . " Ron continued, making his greatest effort to describe the feeling to her. "Like I don't mind not winning, but . . . I don't want anyone to get hurt, at all. And I know it's stupid," Ron scraped away at the paint. "since we're about to fight a bloody battle here. I can't expect for there not to be casualties. But I wish there weren't. I just don't want to loose anyone."

Hermione looked at him for a long moment. "You know who you sound like?" she muttered quietly. "Harry."

Ron could feel his ears starting to heat up. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"You're going on about how you don't want anyone to die - "

" - Of course I don't want anyone to die - "

"And I know that, but still! You know it sounds like something he would say. Come on, I can see your ears turning red." This, of course, made Ron turn an even darker shade of scarlet. Hermione continued, "Remember the night he died? He kept going on about how the whole thing was his fault."

"But it wasn't."

"No, it wasn't, just like whatever happens tonight shouldn't be on your conscience either." And then she gave him a sideways look that Ron saw out of the corner of his eyes. "You're trying to be like him, aren't you?" she said, so quietly that Ron almost did not hear.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ron . . . "

"Yeah, okay, so what if I am, all right?" Ron snapped.

"Nothing's wrong, it's just - "

"Just what?"

Hermione's expression softened. "You don't have to pretend to be Harry in order to be brave. You already are." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but she rolled right along, her voice gaining an almost fiery quality to it. "No, you listen to me, Ronald Weasley. You are just as brave as Harry was, and believe me, I know. I've been your best friend since we were first years. I've watched you fight off Death Eaters and dementors and all sorts of horrid things, and I've watched face them again and again for seven years straight and do it without even blinking. I've watched you size up a situation in which there is no logical way you could make it out alive, and then take the chance and succeed anyway. So don't you dare try and tell me that you aren't good enough, or that you're second best, because you are just the opposite."

Ron finally mustered enough courage to turn around and look Hermione in the eye, and when he did, hers were full of tears. She smiled at him a little sadly, but he found he could not return the gesture; her words were still reverberating in his head, and he was still trying fruitlessly to absorb their meaning. "Oh, Ron." she said pityingly, and she threw her arms around him again. "It's going to be all right. We're going to be okay."

"He's dying tonight." Ron whispered into Hermione's ear. "I'm gonna kill him. For Harry."

Hermione released him, looking up at him with a strange expression on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but a door slammed downstairs and both of them started. "We should probably head outside." She said a bit breathlessly.

"Yeah . . . "

They took the stairs slowly, exchanging no more words, though Ron's knuckles were white from gripping Hermione's hand so tightly.

" . . . once Neville has the wards down." Bill was saying as the two joined the rather underwhelming crowd assembled on the back lawn. "We'll be stationed at this point in the forest, a short ways away from where we Apparated . . . "

Ginny walked up to them while they listened to Bill explain their plan of action. None of them spoke as she approached. While others in the crowd looked as if they might be sick, Ginny, on the contrary, appeared quite calm. So calm, in fact, it was rather unnerving.

"Are you all right, Ginny?" Ron heard Hermione whisper, and he knew that she too had noticed Ginny's eerily serene demeanor.

She did not speak, but gave a quick, confident nod.

"You know, if you're not sure about this, we can always - "

"I'm sure."

The tiniest crease appearing between Hermione's brows, she tried again. "We just want you to be safe."

"Hermione, I'm going. Regardless of what anyone says."

"I know, but . . . "

"But what?"

Hermione shifted her balance uncomfortably. "Aren't you . . . nervous?"

"No, I'm not." Ginny said, and her cheeks flushed with color. "I'm ready."

Ron exchanged a glance with Hermione, and he was sure that she was remembering an evening a few weeks prior, when the Order had been hard at work planning in the Burrow's living room.

The room had been crowded with important Order members, all conversing in low, somber tones about the impending invasion of Hogwarts. Pages of notes and maps of the school were scattered about the room. Luna's Galleon and the Resurrection Stone rested together on a table, never far from reach. It was only dusk, but Ron had been achingly tired; they had been plotting together since lunchtime, and the room smelled of stale air and sweat. They had been in the midst of discussing Ron's and Hermione's roles in the attack - unsettlingly large ones at that - when a noise had called from the foot of the stairs.

"I can go with them." said a small voice. "I want to go."

Mr. Weasley stopped speaking in the middle of a word, his eyes wide, fixed apon the frail figure that approached nervously. "Absolutely not." He said immediately, without even need for consideration. "You are staying here."

"Don't make me, dad." Ginny whined. "I can fight. I can do this. I'm going."

"Ginny," Mr. Weasley finally found his voice. "Think about what you are saying."

"I have."

"You obviously have not!" He said, looking, Ron saw, not angry, but pained. "I don't like this plan to begin with. It's bad enough your brother and Hermione are going ahead. I'll not have you risking yourself as well."

"But I want to go." Ginny repeated to her father, as if reassuring herself of the fact. Mr. Weasley rubbed his brow, looking exhausted. Ginny took the opportunity to justify herself. "I'm a year younger than them, I look more like a student. The Death Eaters don't know my face like they do Ron's and Hermione's. I can do it, dad. I can."

"It doesn't matter if you're capable or not, what matters is your safety! I don't care if you've got the power to stop You-Know-Who with a single spell. You could be hurt or captured or killed, and by Merlin, I'm not losing anyone else in this family."

At this an even deeper silence fell over the room, as its inhabitants sucked in their breath. Ron had never seen Mr. Weasley like this. It was not anger, that would have been startling enough; no, this was much more unsettling. A moment later Ron had realized that this was a different expression he was witnessed, one that he had never, ever seen his father succumb to, not once in all his life. The understanding shook Ron to his very core, and in that moment, he suddenly realized just how serious this situation was. His father was afraid.

Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and put her arm around Ginny, but the latter shook it off.

"No, mum. I've made up my mind. I'm coming with you. With Ron and Hermione"

"Ginny, dear, please." She begged.

"Mum, I can do this!"

"Ginny," Mr. Weasley said. "I don't think you can."

"And so what if I can't? It's better than sitting up in my room all alone while you all could be dying!" Ginny shouted, color rising to her cheeks. "That's all I've been doing for the past year! Just waiting, and crying, and being nothing but a burden! I can't stand it any more! I want to help, I want to make up for it!"

There was a minute in which the only sounds were the chirping of birds and the murmur of voices from the floors above. Mr. Weasley, it seemed, was at a loss for words. When he finally spoke, it was with a hoarse, tired voice. He seemed to have just realized the crowd of people that were surrounding him. "Ginny, come and discuss this outside with your mother and me."

The next time Ron had seen Ginny, it was an hour later and she was helping to prepare for dinner. He approached in order to ask her the outcome of the conversation with their parents, but she answered even before he had the chance to open his mouth. "I'm coming with you and Hermione." She said evenly. Her eyes never left the pot she was stirring, but the pallor of her face and the crease in her brows betrayed her calm.

"Any questions?" Bill asked the gathering at large, and Ron was unceremoniously jerked back to the present. His brother let the silence ring for a moment before dismissing the crowd.

They had a short distance to walk until - crack! Ron could hear those closest to the edge of the Burrow's enchantments already Disapparating for Hogwarts. Ron slipped his fingers between Hermione's as they reached the boundary, and they twisted into darkness, his only comfort the faint pressure of her hand as they moved together towards an uncertain future.

The rendezvous point was far enough from both the school and Hogsmeade to make the Order members sure that they would not be heard as they appeared, one by one, within the Forbidden Forest. Under the cover of darkness and fog, they moved quickly and quietly towards the area at the edge of the trees where they knew, from careful scouting trips, that security was just slightly thinner than anywhere else.

The main group stopped before they were within sight of the castle, while several fighters moved ahead to take out the Death Eaters guarding the edge of the wards. They had to be fast and secretive; it was imperative that they take the section out without anyone else nearby realizing what was amiss. Ron was not sure how long it took them, but it seemed like an eternity. He knew if they failed to be stealthy now, and a full-scale battle erupted before they were even within the grounds, then the entire battle was lost. The element of surprise was their greatest weapon, and they would be nothing without it.

Ron was immensely relieved when the first of the fighters returned to the cover of the forest, dragging the unconscious body of a burly Death Eater through the mist. She had frowned when others congratulated them, saying, "There were hardly any there. It was strange, there should have been more."

"They're in the castle." George guessed. "Something's going down in there, and we need to stop it."

They nodded in agreement, each one conjuring horrible images in their heads about what Voldemort might be doing to complete his potion at that moment.

When the last of the Death Eaters had been stunned and pulled into the forest, the Order cast Disillusionment charms and headed up towards the barrier. Though a length along the wards had been cleared of guards, they knew if any others ventured too near and discovered the strange rippling effect the air had in that place, things could go very wrong very fast. Never letting go of Hermione's hand, they crept through the thinnest trees of the forest until Hogwarts castle suddenly loomed up out of the fog. Ron had forgotten how much he had missed the sight.

Bill stepped forward with his wand aloft and began to whisper complex incantations under his breath, the only sound in the desolation. His skill as a curse breaker was limited, however, against charms of this strength and magnitude.

"Come on, Neville." Ron whispered under his breath. All that was left to do was wait.

"Let's get our robes on, Ron." said Hermione after an undeterminable while, starting towards the cover of the trees, where she removed her Disillusionment Charm. "You too, Ginny."

The robes, of course, were just the beginning of their disguises. Besides their old Gryffindor uniforms ( magically modified to bear the now-standard Slytherin emblems ) each of them would be heavily Transfigured in lieu of Polyjuice Potion, which they had not been able to brew in time for the attack. Once Hermione was done with each of them, and then used a mirror to change her own appearance, Ron had trouble recognizing even himself. Hermione's black hair fell in pin-straight waves down to her waist; her eyes were large and hazel, and her skin was pale and clear. Ginny was much smaller than normal, with short brown hair and dark, heavy brows. Ron himself looked much as he had when Hermione Transfigured him on the day they broke into Gringotts; the only difference was that he lacked a beard. All of them looked noticeably younger, easily school age, and - most importantly - not at all like themselves.

"Are you three ready?" asked the shimmery column of air that spoke with the voice of Mr. Weasley, when they had finished.

"Definitely." Ron answered.

Mr. Weasley tapped his wand to his head once and then there was he was again, visible once more. Ron could see his father's expression even in the deep night, but found it difficult to place, though it was both sorrowful and proud. Mr. Weasley looked them up and down once and then pulled them each into a hug. Hermione first, then Ginny, and lastly Ron. He gripped his son as if Ron was his last lifeline; as if he might never see the latter again . . . a possibility, he noted, that was very, very real. Ron found himself pouring his every emotion into the gesture, trying to convey to his father everything that he felt, everything he could not put into words. When his father stepped back to look Ron in the eye, arms still placed on his shoulders, there was a certain quality to his emotion that make Ron think that perhaps he understood.

"Ginny - Ron - Hermione - " Bill grunted from the front of the crowd. His father released Ron immediately and the three hurried towards Bill, who stood with his arms and legs apart, wand raised, apparently under great strain. "Go." He said simply, and without another word, the three stepped through the hole Bill had created in the wards.

The moment they crossed the boundary, the Bill allowed the protective charms to crash back into place. He stumbled quickly backwards, as if something had snapped at him. Ron had just enough time to look over his shoulder only to see the discolored tear in the wards immediately heal itself like some bizarre magical wound. Then they were alone, Hermione, Ginny, and he. Their friends and family were now nothing but hazy silhouettes on what might have been the other side of the world.

"Come on, Ron." Hermione said quietly. "We're on our own now."

They crept through the grounds as stealthily as they could, the thin mist that covered the grounds giving them at least a minimal amount of cover. Ron repeated the steps of the plan over and over again in his head as they ran, terrified he might forget even though they had spent the past hour reciting it to one another while they waited. After ten minutes they arrived, breathless, in the courtyard, miraculously unseen.

This was not part of the plan, however.

"All right, Ginny, you go and get the Death Eater." Hermione said. "Try to avoid the ones you've seen fighting us before. There's still a chance they'll recognize us." Ginny nodded and turned to leave, but Hermione stopped her, with an endearingly familiar look of apprehension on her face. "Er . . . don't bring anyone that looks too mean, all right?"

Ginny smirked. Then she turned and disappeared through the doors to the entrance hall, swallowed up by the fog. The two stood and watched her for a moment, listening for any signs of approaching enemies. Ron, adrenaline rushing through his veins, felt jittery. He was very aware that he and Hermione were alone, probably for the last time before they faced what was seeming more and more like certain death.

"How long d'you think she'll be?" Ron said, to break the silence.

"A few minutes, I think. There are Death Eaters everywhere, it shouldn't take long." She answered.

Ron breathed out, trying to calm his nerves. He put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, drawing her into him, holding her close. She wrapped her arms around his chest without hesitation, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Ron . . . if - if we don't make it out of this . . . " Hermione began, blushing.

"Oh, come on, Hermione, don't do this." Ron said, but she pushed on.

"No, I need to, Ron. I just - " She paused, then continued determinedly. Though she stammered at first, her voice gained strength as she went on. "I want you to know how much I love you, and how glad I am that you're here with me. I don't think I could do this alone."

"And I feel exactly the same way." Ron said matter-of-factly. "If it weren't for you, Hermione, I'd still be trapped in that Devil's Snare we found our first year." He said. "Or else have flunked Potions so many times I'd still be a student right now."

He meant the statement as a way of stopping Hermione from saying her last goodbyes. He wasn't sure he could take another lengthy chat about their feelings. She laughed at his joke, but much to Ron's surprise as hers, he continued. "I, er, I mean it, Hermione. Every time my ass needed saving you've always been there. You're smart, and you're brave, and you've never failed Harry and me, ever, not once. I'm so damn lucky to have you."

Hermione pulled away from him; not out of his embrace, but so she could look him in the eyes. Her Transfigured irises were glimmering with tears. "I wish - I wish we could have more t-time." She hiccupped. "I wish I could spend forever with you."

And then a thought struck Ron like a bolt of lightning in that it seemed to electrify him, awaken his senses. In a single moment, everything was clear; he knew what he needed to do. He didn't even bother to consider it - he didn't need to. It was crazy, brash, thoughtless, and yet nothing had ever seemed so undoubtedly right to him before.

"Marry me, Hermione." She looked at him with such shock that Ron fought the bizarre desire to chuckle at the way her mouth opened in a comical O. "Oh, come on, we're dying tonight anyway." Ron said, and her laugh turned into a sob, and before he knew it tears were pouring down her face. Whether they were tears of happiness, sadness, or fear, Ron could not tell; Hermione appeared to be feeling all of these emotions at once. She made several attempts to speak, but her words were senseless and disjointed.

"Hermione, listen," Ron said, more seriously, and she made an effort to calm herself. "I know you must think I'm completely mad, doing this now of all times, but . . . actually, you're probably right on that one. But either way . . . you see . . . and maybe you felt this way too . . . I've always sort of known that I was going to end up marrying you. I don't really know how, I can't explain it too well . . . but deep down I just don't think I've ever considered another outcome. Even if this seems rushed, I know I'm making a decision I won't regret. So if we die, damn it, I want to die married to the girl I love."

Hermione was crying harder than ever, but by now Ron could tell with absolute certainty that she was crying out of joy. She jumped up and down, covered her hand with her mouth, smiled even though the tears did not stop. It took her a while to remember how to speak coherently again, but when she did, the words that tumbled out of her mouth were the most wonderful Ron had ever heard.

"Oh - oh, Ron, goodness, yes! I'll d-do it, I'll do it, we're getting m-married - ! "

Without hesitation Ron scooped Hermione up into his arms and kissed her like he had never kissed her before. He swept her off her feet and they spun in a circle, laughing, kissing, crying. For a shining eternity, all thoughts of the attack and Voldemort and the Wizarding War were wiped from Ron's mind as if they had never been. There was only Hermione, Hermione and the most incredible sensations he had ever felt; it was as if firewhisky had replaced all the blood in his veins, as if they were flying through the air at a million miles an hour.

Ron was not sure how long they stood there, but at some point a while later there was a bang as the door to the castle flew open. They jumped apart, dazed. It was a frightening moment before Ron realized what was happening - Ginny had returned with the Death Eater, as planned, whom they prayed would mistake them for students and escort them into the castle without them arousing much suspicion.

"What the bloody 'ell is you two doin'?" The Death Eater yelled, a man with a pointed gray beard and the slurred speech of a heavy drinker.

"They snuck off together, sir, I saw them go." Ginny said.

"Well I know that, thanks, yeh bleedin' sneak!" The Death Eater bellowed at her, and Ron was relieved that she stood her ground. "What d'you two has to say for yourselves?

"Er - we were just - " Hermione, already caught off guard, played the part perfectly without meaning to. She hastily wiped at her tears, biting her lower lip and looking terrified.

"You was just gettin' inside!" bellowed the Death Eater. "This assembly's mandatory!"

"It's - it's so late at night, though." Ron stammered.

"The Dark Lord decides whether it's too late for somefink, not you! You'd bes' well hope I don't tell 'im 'bout what I's found here, or else I don' even wanna think what he'd do to ter you." He added with relish, his lips splitting into a gormless grin, revealing several cracked teeth.

"No sir, please! We're very sorry." Hermione pleaded, and there was real fear edging her voice; if the assembly the Death Eater mentioned had already started, then Voldemort's plan was already in motion. They needed to get in there as quickly as possible, and if this man dealt them a large enough punishment, it could jeopardize the entire mission.

"Oh, I bet you is! You's lucky the Dark Lord's so busy . . . the Carrows, on the other hand . . . "

"Please, sir, it won't happen again." Ron said.

"Oh, I's sure it won', not after we's done with you. Wonder what your punishment's gonna be. Lessee . . . breakin' curfew . . . sneakin' on the grounds . . . public displays o' affection . . . " At the mention of their last crime, his grin grew even wider. "Ya can't learn to control yourself, you gon' be punished." Ron did not like the way the Death Eater was looking at Hermione. He stepped in front of her protectively, which only made the Death Eater's ugly smile curve into a snarl. "Way I sees it, you both deserves a week in the dungeons hung up by the ankles. But . . . in light of tonight's circumstances . . . " There was something about the way that he said circumstances that made Ron shiver. " . . . you's free to go. Inside, to the Great Hall, and nowhere else!" He added forcefully. "Now move!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Thank you, sir!"

They hurried away as fast as they could, entering the castle through the heavy door that still hung ajar. They could hear his footsteps behind them as they raced away, but the man walked with a limp, and at their brisk speed, they soon outpaced him. When they were far enough away, Ron and Hermione dared to join hands again. The two exchanged a look. They had each arrived at the same conclusion.

"D'you know why he just let us go like that?" Ron murmured quietly, and although he already knew the answer, Ginny, running a few steps ahead of them, answered anyway.

"Because he doesn't expect any of students to make it past tonight."