The worst part of that summer was the fact that Ron and Hermione had to keep everything from Harry. Every letter was secretive, and Ron knew Harry would think them to be vague. Hermione was sending the same kind of letters, the too-casual-to-be-from-Hermione letters. And all because Dumbledore told them to. Ron hated it.
"Ron, look out!"
WHAM.
Ron was suddenly spiraling down to earth, his broomstick falling next to him, and they both hit the earth with a loud thump.
"Ron!"
Ron groaned, and lifting his head ever so slightly to see Fred, George, Ginny, and Hermione (who had arrived only days ago) rushing toward him.
"Ron, you alright?"
"Sorry mate, thought you saw that Bludger coming…"
Ron glared at Fred, who had obviously sent the Bludger for him in order to protect his own side of the Quidditch field. However, had Ron been paying attention, he could have avoided the nasty incident.
Ron groaned again as he sat up. "My head…Fred, why'd you hit it so hard?"
Fred gave a sheepish grin. "C'mon, Ron, at least now you'll pay attention. Staring off into space and hovering in midair isn't the cleverest thing to be doing during a Quidditch game."
Ron flashed him another dirty look, but Hermione was now fussing with his arm, which was bleeding.
"I can't fix your head, I'm afraid I would mess it up more…"
Ginny sat down next to Hermione and Ron on the ground. "Hermione, you never mess anything up. Now work your magic."
Hermione shook her head. "I'm not doing it. It could affect his memory if it goes wrong. Your arm is fine Ron, but we're going to have to get your mother to fix your head up."
No one argued with her after that. Hermione and Ginny stood up and helped Ron up, who was momentarily dizzy as he was steadied onto his feet.
Hermione and Ginny each took one of his arms, and when Ron began to fall back when his world began to spin, he felt Hermione push his back to keep him from falling.
They two girls guided him into the house, with the twins lagging behind, Fred slightly ashamed of his doing.
Mrs. Weasley came bustling up to them, asking what happened.
"He fell off his broom, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. "He hit his head, quite hard, actually."
"Thanks to Mr. Bludger over here," Ginny glared at Fred.
"Fred!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed exasperatedly. "You hit the Bludger towards him?"
"I thought he would duck!" Fred shouted defensively. "He was spacing out in the middle of the game, probably thinking about this one over here…" He gestured to Hermione, who deeply blushed along with Ron.
"Honestly!" Hermione glared at Fred. "You don't hit Bludgers towards people whether their paying attention or not!"
"That's the game Hermione!" Fred retorted.
Hermione simply scoffed, ending the argument. They all watched as Mrs. Weasley performed a spell that relieved Ron of the headache.
"Better?" His mother asked.
"Yeah, loads!"
"Good. No more Quidditch today, lunch is ready anyway."
As they all sat down, Mrs. Weasley asked for Ginny to tell Mr. Weasley lunch was ready. Ron noticed Fred and George at the very end of the table, talking in low voices. Mrs. Weasley was placing food on the table, looking distacted. Ron noticed that he and Hermione could have a completely private conversation without being overheard, for what felt like the first time in forever.
He decided to say to her what he had wanted to say for the last fifteen minutes. "Thanks for fixing my arm."
Hermione looked up, surprised. "Oh! You're welcome Ron, it was nothing. I was really just worried about your head."
She was worried about him. He supposed it was nothing; she worried about everything, including people other than just himself.
"I don't feel right about not telling Harry about what's been happening," she said.
And the conversation was turned back to Harry. In Ron's mind, everyone else always seemed to be worried about Harry. He was worried about him too, but how many times does Hermione have to mention him?
"He'll be fine, Hermione. We're going to Grimmauld Place in two days, and Mum and Dad said Moody's going to bring a bunch of Aurors and bust him out of that muggle-infested place."
"I know, but we all know he's going to be really angry for keeping him in the dark," Hermione continued worriedly.
"Honestly Hermione, d'you know Harry at all? He'll be mad for maybe a day, but by the next day, he'll be over it." Ron paused and thought. "He's not like us."
Hermione raised her eyebrows, but he knew she knew he was right. Harry was only angry with someone if they got mad at him first. Ron and Hermione, however, could find at least one thing to argue about every day, and hold the grudge.
The next two days seemed to be solemn. Now that Voldemort was definitely back, according to Harry, things were going to change more than ever, and everyone seemed to be in a quiet and testy mood.
However, on the day they were going to leave for Grimmauld Place, the whole house was mad. People running up and down the stairs to retrieve their trunks and things they had forgotten. It was exactly like every time they were leaving for King's Cross.
They all left by Floo Powder; and everyone ended up in the right place.
As Ron stepped out of the unfamiliar fireplace, he took in his surroundings. The house was really old and eerie. There were portraits of people Ron did not recognize all over the house.
"All right, everyone upstairs and find a room to sleep in. Fred and George are together, Hermione and Ginny, and Ron, you'll share with Harry when he arrives. Bill, Remus, Alastor, Sirius, and Mundungus are all going to be here tomorrow, and Harry's coming tomorrow night…
This was the most that registered to Ron, for he tuned out his mother's voice as she too started verbally worrying about Harry.
He was suddenly in a bad mood. "C'mon." He took Hermione by the arm and led her upstairs.
As they reached the top of the steps, Ron looked up and heard Hermione gasp next to him.
There were at least a hundred house-elf heads mounted on the walls that led to the end of the hallway. Ron looked at Hermione, and saw the look of horror in her eyes. He knew of her soft spot for animals, especially house-elves, and he knew this was not the place she wanted to be.
"Don't look," he said to her firmly. She looked down at the floor, and he pushed her in the back to lead her across the corridor to an empty room, while making sure she kept her eyes down and closed.
When they were inside the room and Ron closed the door, Hermione was completely silent. She sat down on one of the two beds, and stared hard at the ground in front of her.
Ron sat next to her on the bed. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Hermione. The people who lived here are sick."
Hermione was silent for a minute more, then she spoke. "I just don't understand what kind of people would do this. It's absolutely unbelievable."
Ron had never heard Hermione so serious in his life. He saw the tears brimming in her eyes, and he instantly put an arm around her shoulders. She hid her face into his shoulder and sobbed for the house-elves.
However, she surfaced only moments later and practically yelled compared to her voice previously: "Why would anyone do that, Ron? What kind of people…Ron, you would never do something like that, right?"
Ron looked hard, almost curiously into her pleading eyes. "I would never do anything that I know would hurt you or anything you love, Hermione."
Hermione's face softened, and turned a faint pink. Ron could feel his own ears and face burning.
Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't matter anyway. No matter how hard I try, or what I believe in, there's still going to be loads of house-elves working as slaves for horrid wizards."
Usually, Ron would've told Hermione she was wasting her time trying to free the house-elves, because they like to work. But the look on Hermione's miserable face and the sight of her tears told him she needed confidence. Besides, this was the first time Ron had seen Hermione give up on anything. Her determination was one of the many things he admired about her.
"Hermione, just because these people mistreat house-elves, doesn't mean everyone does. I bet there are a lot of people out there who are trying to free house-elves just like you."
Hermione looked at him, almost doubtfully. "Really?"
Ron didn't completely believe his own words; he thought there might be a few others who wanted to free the elves, but as far as he was concerned, Hermione was one in a million.
"Yeah. But even if I'm wrong, you don't need a bunch of other people to make a difference in the world, Hermione."
Hermione smiled. He loved her smile, especially since her teeth had been fixed. "I suppose you're probably right."
Ron gasped. "Did I just hear Miss Hermione Granger admit someone else is right?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just this once. Anyway, I suppose you didn't make that up just now. Your mother told you that didn't she?"
Ron smirked. "Wrong. My dad. When I was nine, I told him I wanted to be an Auror, and save the world, but only if my friends help me with it. And my dad told me I can save the world on my own."
Hermione grinned, but then it faded away. "Sure about that?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Harry can't defeat Voldemort on his own. I know it."
And it was back to Harry. Ron was determined to keep his anger inside, so as not to start anything with Hermione. He swallowed and said, "I don't think so. What about when Voldemort was defeated the first time? Harry was just a baby, he didn't do anything to protect himself, and he's made a difference on the world already."
"What's that, then?"
Ron faced her. "He gave us hope."
Hermione smiled that perfect smile and Ron's anger melted away for all three of them.
