Author's Notes: I seem to be in the habit of posting late these days. Last chapter was three months late and now this chapter was two weeks late. At least the interval of lateness has been reduced by more than eighty percent. With any luck, next chapter won't be late at all. (Especially since it's almost completely written already and just needs typing up.)
Anyone who's been keeping an eye on my FF profile knows two things have happened recently worth mentioning. The first being that I went into the hospital a couple of weeks ago to have some tests run. I was only there for the better part of two days, but I really have to say going into the hospital when I did killed the head of steam I had built up for writing this chapter. That's one of the reasons this thing took so long to finish. (The other reason is that this chapter's the size of three normal chapters.) The other thing that happened was my birthday.
I had this whole scenario planned out, where I would post this chapter ON my birthday and say, "Even though it's MY birthday, YOU get the gift," whereby the new update would be the gift in question. Of course, I missed that particular deadline by two days. Ah well.
So, even though it's a bit late, and even though you didn't get it served up for you as a birthday present, here it is: Chapter 24. Enjoy!
Thanks: As usual, thanks to everyone who has ever and will ever post a review for this story. As of this writing, the number of reviews stands at 626! That's just awesome! Think we can hit 650 before the next chapter comes out? Thanks, also, to my wonderful beta CutewithAcapital-Q. She is the wind beneath my wings. (Hey Cutie…did you ever know that you're my hero?)
Now that I'm done quoting Bette Midler (would I have sounded gay if I had called her "the Divine Miss M"? Who'm I kidding…I quoted Bette Midler…that ALREADY sounds gay!), let me get on with one final piece of business, the Disclaimer, and then you people can get to reading.
Disclaimer: I've said it before and I'll say it again. The HP universe is JKR's sand box…she just lets me play in it with my Tonka trucks and G.I. Joes.
MIRROR, MIRROR
Chapter 24 – "Reflections of a Boy and Girl"
"Ugh…not again…" Ron groaned when he came to and found himself in a bed with starched white sheets, looking up at the cracked white ceiling of the Hogwarts hospital wing, instead of lying face down in the coarse green underbrush of the Forbidden Forest.
"I'm afraid so, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said as she bustled into view carrying a tray of potions, "Though I'd say, considering you were flying your broom through the Dark Forest blindfolded, you're rather lucky you're here instead of the morgue at St. Mungo's."
"What happened?" he asked groggily, struggling to sit up and look around. The white privacy curtain was drawn around his bed, preventing him from seeing the rest of the infirmary.
"Oh, now, surely you would know better than I what happened out there in the forest," the nurse said as she waved her wand over him briefly, "Although, how you convinced a sensible girl like Miss Granger to take part in such a reckless and dangerous activity is beyond me."
"Hermione! Is she okay?" he asked, looking around frantically to spot some sign of the bushy-haired brunette. Of course, with the curtains drawn, he couldn't see anything. "Where is she?"
"Miss Granger is in the next bed," the nurse replied, giving him a dose of a bitter-tasting purple potion, "And she will be fine. You were both suffering from fairly the same injuries, most of which I was able to treat rather quickly and easily. It was only the spell burns that gave me a bit of trouble."
"Burns…"
For the first time since coming to, Ron stopped to take stock of himself, noticing with a bit of embarrassment that his chest was bare. His skin was pink and healthy looking, as though it had been freshly scrubbed, and there was no sign of the charred cracks and blisters he remembered seeing after their harrowing escape from the Chamber of Secrets.
Madam Pomfrey nodded, handing him a glass of water to wash away the aftertaste of the potion. "Very nasty spell burns over ninety percent of your bodies. Since they were caused by Dark Magic, they were extremely difficult to heal."
"Dark Magic…"
Ron's mind flashed to the inexorable pain he felt the moment he crossed the threshold from the tunnel leading out of the Chamber into the open air of the Forbidden Forest. He briefly recalled a fine haze over the mouth of the tunnel, difficult to see until up close…like a thin, iridescent spider-web.
"Fortunately, Professor Snape knew of a potion that could be used to heal the burns without scarring," the nurse continued, placing the empty potion bottle and the empty glass back on the tray she was carrying, "I've had to apply it to your burns once a day for the last week, but I don't think I'll be needing to apply it anymore."
"I've been here for a week?" Ron exclaimed.
Madam Pomfrey nodded once more. "Ever since Hagrid brought you and Miss Granger in; the both of you were unconscious the whole time. Miss Granger only woke up a short while ago, herself. Now, if you're done interrogating me, I'll just pop off and let the headmaster know you've awakened and then I'll have some clothes brought down for you to put on."
"Clothes…?"
Ron realized that he could feel crisp linen against his legs and bare bum; it wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but it wasn't one he was expecting. He lifted the sheet that was covering his lower body and took a look underneath. Just as he thought, he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. He dropped the sheet with an embarrassed squeak and his whole body flushed red.
"I'm starkers!" Ron yelled, grabbing the sheet and tugging it up to his neck.
"There's no need to yell, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey scolded, frowning at him, "As I said, you had burns over most of your body and they needed tending to. I've been a nurse for a long time, and I assure you…there's nothing you have that I haven't seen before."
"It wasn't mine before," he grumbled under his breath.
The nurse pretended not to hear him, but an amused smile tugged at her lips. She was just about to step through the curtains when Ron stopped her.
"Hermione's really okay?"
She smiled warmly at his concern for his friend. "Yes, Mr. Weasley…Miss Granger is fine. Once you both are dressed, I'll pull the curtains back and you can see for yourself."
The nurse disappeared through the curtains, and the full implication of what she had said finally dawned on Ron: Hermione was in the next bed…naked. Suddenly, the gravity of the situation…Dumbledore's mission, the encounter in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry's revelations, the mad scramble to escape, the burns, the injuries, the week of unconsciousness…no longer mattered. He was a teenage boy and there was a naked girl – one he was particularly fond of – lying in a bed no more than five feet away. All thoughts drained from his mind except that one.
"Bloody Hell…!"
It was nearly an hour before Madam Pomfrey returned with something for him to wear. He hadn't been expecting pajamas, a dressing gown, and slippers, but the nurse explained that, even though the external damage from the Dark Magic appeared to be completely healed, he and Hermione needed to remain under observation in case there were any unforeseen complications with internal spell damage.
In short, it would be a day or two before they would be allowed to leave.
Once they were dressed in the clothes Madam Pomfrey provided for them, the curtains were pulled back from around their beds and Ron got his first look at Hermione. Like his, her skin was a shiny shade of pink, giving her a healthy glow. Her eyes, however, were red-rimmed and she didn't look as pleased to see him as he was to see her.
"Alright there, Hermione?" Ron asked, concerned for well-being.
When she didn't answer and she didn't even acknowledge his presence, Ron got out of his bed and padded the short distance across the floor to Hermione's bedside. It was then that he could see that she was crying and trembling.
"Hermione…what's wrong?" he asked, reaching to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She recoiled from his touch and looked at him with fear in her eyes.
"Just go away," Hermione said in a broken sort of voice, "Please just leave me alone."
"Mr. Weasley, get back in bed!" Madam Pomfrey ordered as she came out of her office carrying a beaker full of a steaming dark green potion. She shooed Ron away from Hermione's bed before handing the girl the potion, "Here you are, Miss Granger…freshly brewed, as always."
Hermione took the potion from the nurse, her hands shaking so badly that she nearly spilled it. She brought the glass beaker unsteadily to her lips and emptied it in one gulp. Madam Pomfrey took the empty glass from her and Hermione lay down with her back towards Ron and pulled the covers up to her neck.
"What was that?" Ron asked, eyeing the empty flask in the nurse's hand, "What's wrong with her?"
"Never you mind, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said in a scolding tone, "You just get yourself back in bed and leave Miss Granger to rest."
The nurse drew the curtain separating Ron and Hermione's beds, blocking her from his view once again. The matron gave Ron a scathing look and he reluctantly climbed back into his own bed, folding his arms across his chest and pulling a disgruntled face.
"You said we had the same injuries," he said plaintively, concerned that something was seriously wrong…and worse, that it had been his fault, "You didn't give me that potion. And I wasn't…doing…what she was doing!"
"You shouldn't concern yourself with Miss Granger's health," Madam Pomfrey said moving back across the ward towards her office.
"She's my friend!" he said pleadingly, "I'm worried about her."
The old nurse's face softened and she smiled slightly. "She'll be fine; she just needs some rest…and so do you."
"I was asleep for seven days," Ron argued.
"Then, perhaps you'd like me to send for your school books so you can catch up on all the work you've missed out on all week," the nurse countered with just the hint of a cheeky grin, "Miss Granger asked me to send for hers when she first woke up, so it won't be any trouble to ask for yours as well."
"I'd rather sleep," Ron groaned, lying down.
"Suit yourself," Madam Pomfrey said as she entered her office with what Ron was sure was a smugly satisfied look on her face.
He turned on his side and faced the curtain separating him from Hermione. Madam Pomfrey said she would be fine with some rest, but he wished that he could be sure. He'd feel better if he could see her; if only the damn curtain wasn't in the way…if only Hermione would talk to him.
Sleeping was the last thing he expected to be able to do after being unconscious for seven days; but whether it was from boredom, or from something in the potion that the nurse had given him when he first woke up, or from the hypnotic nature of the stark white curtain he was staring at unblinkingly, sleeping is exactly what Ron wound up doing.
Ron awoke to the unnerving feeling of being watched. Unlike the last time he'd had that feeling, however, he wasn't about to be attacked by a twelve-foot-long snake sicced on him by a possessed classmate.
This time around he was being quietly observed by a pair of big brown eyes.
"Er-my-knee?" Ron's voice was a bit sluggish and gravelly from sleep, but the brunette in the next bed didn't seem to mind. She smiled brightly at him when he sat up, stretching and yawning.
"Good morning, sleepy-head," Hermione replied, looking much better than the last time he'd seen her.
"S'not mornin' yet, izzit?" he asked, looking around for some indication of the time, "How long was I out?"
"I have no idea," she admitted, "You were asleep when I woke up about an hour ago. That potion usually makes me sleep for about four hours, so…"
"What was that potion?" Ron asked, his head suddenly clearing as a very serious expression crossed his face.
Hermione blushed and looked down at her lap and began nervously fidgeting with her sheet. "Oh. That."
"Yeah, that," Ron replied, nodding. He pulled his sheet back and swung his long gangly legs over the side of the bed so that he was sitting facing her, "What was that?"
"Do you remember Third Year?" she asked softly, not looking up.
"How could I forget?" he responded, rolling his eyes. Escaped convicts, Dementors, werewolves, hippogriffs, Animagi, a broken leg, and, of course, a cat and a rat. Not exactly a forgettable year in Ron's book.
"Do you remember the end of Third Year?" she asked, looking up slightly, "I know Neville told you what happened…"
The other Ron's memories suddenly flashed through his head, stopping on the image of a familiar young brunette girl lying curled up in the middle of a hospital bed looking broken.
"Yeah, I remember," he said, nodding sympathetically.
Hermione looked back down. "When I got home that summer, my parents took me to see a friend of theirs…a Muggle healer who specializes in young people with…emotional problems."
Her voice broke and tears were rolling down her cheeks; this was obviously a topic that was painful and difficult for her to talk about. Ron hated seeing her in such a state, but he wasn't sure what he should do to help her. Give her a hug? Pretend it wasn't happening? Tell her to stop talking about it?
"'Mione, you don't have to tell me" he said, reaching across the space between the two beds and gently patting her hand, "Just forget about it, okay?"
"No, Ron," she said, sniffing. She defiantly wiped her tears away and looked up, holding her head high, "You said it yourself…we're best friends. You have a right to know…I want you to know."
Ron nodded and she went on.
"The healer…Muggles call them doctors…or, in Dr. Winston's case, psychiatrists…well, he put me on some medication that was supposed to help me deal with stress after the…the breakdown. I didn't want to take it…I told my parents that I had dropped some of my elective classes so it wouldn't be a problem anymore…but they were worried about me, so I gave in and agreed to take the pills."
"Pills?"
"Oh…uhm…how best to explain pills?" Hermione looked lost in thought for a moment, "Imagine a Bertie Bott's bean, but instead of being made of candy, it's made of a dose of potion…and instead of chewing it up, you swallow it with a glass of water."
"Sounds dreadful," Ron said, wrinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue, "I had a vomit-flavored bean in my last box, but it still sounds better than your potion beans."
"Pills," she corrected.
"Whatever."
"So, as I was saying," she continued, rolling her eyes, but smiling at him as she did, "I took the pills last year even though I really didn't want to. The pills helped me manage my stress, but they made me very moody. I was very short with people the whole year…especially you. You may have noticed."
"Err…"
"It's okay, Ron. You won't hurt my feelings by saying you noticed."
"What does this have to do with the potion I saw Madam Pomfrey give you?" Ron asked, "That was no pill."
"Last year, I told Madam Pomfrey about the side-effects of the pills and asked her if there was a magical alternative that wouldn't make me so moody," Hermione explained and Ron listened with rapt attention, "She told me about a stress-relief potion with no side-effects, and the best part was I could take it once a month instead of daily, like I was doing with the pills. Before she would give me the potion, though, I had to ask my parents' permission first."
"They obviously said 'yes'," Ron replied.
"It wasn't easy getting them to agree," she said shaking her head, "You see, my parents are doctors, as well…"
"Dentists," he said, nodding, "Teeth healers."
"That's right!" Hermione said, surprised, "How did you know that?"
"You told me when we met on the Hogwarts Express," he admitted.
"I did? And you remembered something I said way back then?" she looked at Ron in complete awe.
"What can I say, Hermione?" he said, shrugging, "You made quite an impression."
Hermione blushed deeply but looked very pleased, smiling shyly at Ron. "As I was saying…since my parents are dentists, it was very difficult to convince them to forego Muggle medicine in favor of a magical remedy; they think it's cheating."
"But you're a witch!" Ron exclaimed, exasperated, "Using magic isn't cheating…it's what we do."
"But it's not what they do," she said, "My parents don't use magic, and since I'm still a minor, I have to go along with their wishes. Luckily, though, I managed to convince them to let me try the potion…though it took a lot of pleading on my part."
"So, that was your monthly dose of potion I saw Madam Pomfrey give you?"
"Yes," she said, nodding, "Though, she gave it to me a few days early actually…because of what happened…in the Chamber…and on the broom. I had an episode when I came to earlier. You saw…"
"Yeah," he nodded, "You had me worried."
"I'm sorry," she said, blushing and looking away.
"You're alright now, though, yeah?" he asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Hermione looked down at their hands and then looked up at Ron before nodding. "I'm fine…now."
They sat quietly like that for several minutes, before Ron started to feel awkward and pulled away, going back to his own bed and engaging Hermione in lighthearted conversation, trying to take his mind off of how good it had felt to hold her hand.
If Ron had expected the day to continue the way it began – with just himself and Hermione whiling away the time in quiet conversation – he was mistaken. Madam Pomfrey soon arrived with food for the two of them, as well as their school books and homework from the previous week. Hermione was eager to dive right in, anxious to catch up on what she had missed. Having nothing else to do and no one to talk to…and with more than just a subtle urging from Hermione…Ron reluctantly began doing schoolwork as well.
A few hours later, when the double doors opened, signaling a new arrival to the hospital wing, Ron breathed a sigh of relief, hoping for some respite from his torturous homework. However, when he saw Fred and George walk through those doors wearing matching mischievous grins on their identical faces, he knew he was in for a new kind of torture.
"Do my eyes deceive me, George?" Fred asked in a mock-surprised voice, "Or is that Gryffindor's very own broom-riding Romeo and his bookish little Juliet lying before me in matching hospital beds?"
"You don't seem to be wearing a blindfold, Fred," George said, his tone falsely contemplative as he pretended to look his twin over from head-to-foot, "Therefore you must be seeing straight. It must be ickle Ronniekins and his little girlfriend Granger."
Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head at the twins while Hermione huffed from the next bed, trying to ignore their antics and continue with her schoolwork. The identical Weasleys quickly pulled up chairs on either side of Ron's bed.
"Alright there, Ron?" Fred asked with a huge grin as he settled into the chair between Ron and Hermione's beds.
"I will be when you two stop taking the mickey out of me," Ron grumbled, closing his Charms textbook and tossing it aside. In truth, he was glad for the distraction…even if he wasn't thrilled with the direction the twins' teasing was headed.
"When our two favorite prefects decide to skive off class and go for a romantic fly through the Forbidden Forest, you have to expect some measure of piss-taking," Fred said grinning broadly, "Though I'm not sure what the blindfolds were for."
"Perhaps there was more going on out there than just a broom-ride, dear brother," George quipped teasingly, "Care to elaborate, Ronniekins?"
"Shove off, you two," Ron grumbled, "It's not what you think."
"Then why don't you tell us what it was," Fred said, smiling deviously.
"Oh, honestly!" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation, snapping her book shut and turning her attention on the twins, "Don't the two of you have anything better to do than to go around looking for gossip?"
"Not when your little joyride is the talk of the school, we don't," Fred said, turning his wicked smile in Hermione's direction, "So tell us, Granger…what were you and little Ronniekins doing out there anyway?"
"And just whose idea was it to wear blindfolds?" George added, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Y'know, George, I've heard of Muggle party games using blindfolds," Fred said, obviously enjoying the way that they were getting under Hermione's skin, "Pin the Tail on the Bottle, Spin the Donkey…from what I hear, they're snogging games!"
"Oh, please!" Hermione laughed, "Pin the Tail on the Donkey is a child's game, and Spin the Bottle doesn't even use a blindfold!"
"Seems prim and proper Miss Granger here is an expert on the subject, Fred," George said, grinning.
"So it would seem, George," Fred replied, nodding, "It's always the quiet ones. And here I thought when Ron told us to leave Granger alone, it was because he thought she'd take it out on him…turns out he's sweet on her!"
"It's not what you think," Ron said, blushing. Even as he said it, though, he knew the twins wouldn't believe him; they'd keep making fun until they found out the truth.
"So you didn't convince Perfect Prefect Granger to skive off class in order to go for a cozy little broom-ride with you to a nice secluded spot in the forest?" Fred asked suggestively.
"The whole thing is a lot less…salacious…than you're making it sound, I assure you!" Hermione said in a huff.
"So you weren't out there snogging ickle Ronniekins while riding his broom wearing a blindfold?" George asked sounding disappointed.
"No, of course not!" Hermione said sternly.
"Pity," Fred said, drowning, "And here I was hoping our little Ronniekins had finally gotten himself some snogging experience."
"Shut it!" Ron snapped, glaring at Fred. Teasing him was one thing, but the twins were officially crossing the line now, "We were out there because of my mission," Ron hissed.
The twins' eyes widened and they exchanged a glance before looking back at Ron. Hermione's eyes widened, too, and Ron sighed inwardly, wondering what new form of agony he had just unleashed upon himself.
"You mean she knows about your mission?" Fred asked, leaning in close to whisper to Ron.
"They know about your mission?" Hermione asked, whispering, too, but with a bit of venom in her voice, "It was alright for you to trust Tweedledee and Tweedledum, but Dumbledore didn't want you trusting me?"
"So wait…Granger knows where you're really from?" George asked, looking back-and-forth between Ron and Hermione.
"Where he's from?" Hermione said, giving George a quizzical look, "He's from Ottery St. Catchpole. Why would that be a secret?"
"It's not a secret, Hermione…you're right," Ron said as he gave the twins a significant look, hoping they understood that while Hermione knew some things about the mission that Dumbledore had set before him, she wasn't privy to every aspect of it, "The twins were just making a joke."
"Well, I don't get it," she said, screwing up her face in confusion, "And I still don't understand why Dumbledore let you tell your brothers when this was all supposed to be some big secret."
"All the Weasleys know," Ron explained, "It's not something that could very easily be kept from the family."
"Oh. No, I suppose not," Hermione said, looking lost in thought, "I suppose Dumbledore would have had to have gotten your parents' permission before allowing you to…oh! Now I understand why Ginny kept crying around you all the time when you first came back to school! She must have been worried about you getting hurt."
"Yeah, that must've been it," Ron agreed, and a quick look at the twins prodded them to nod along in agreement as well, "Now that that's all cleared up, maybe you two prats can stop taking the piss out of me."
Fred and George looked at each other and shared a mischievous smile before answering Ron in unison. "Where's the fun in that?"
Ron sighed, knowing that he would have to put up with the twins' teasing until the left. As annoying as it was, part of him relished the familiar feeling of being the butt of the twins' jokes.
"We have not yet begun to make your life miserable," Fred said, getting up out of his chair and sitting next to Ron on his bed, draping an arm around his shoulders.
"After all," George continued, mirroring his twin brother's movements, taking a seat on the other side of Ron on his bed and placing an arm across his shoulders, "We would be remiss in our duties as piss-taking older brothers if we let you off the hook for destroying your broom when Quidditch season is only a month old."
The color drained from Ron's cheeks. With everything that had happened, he'd completely forgotten that the last time he'd seen his precious Cleansweep Eleven, it was in pieces on the floor of the Forbidden Forest.
"Oh, bloody Hell…my broom! What am I going to do?"
"Look on the bright side," Fred said, grinning as though he reveled in Ron's misery, "Christmas is coming up…"
George's face took on the same grin as Fred's and he reached up and ruffled Ron's hair. "Maybe you can ask Father Christmas for a new one!"
Ron grimaced, knowing he was in for quite a long visit with the twins.
Once Fred and George had had their fill of making Ron's life miserable, they took off, leaving Ron and Hermione to once again take up their books and get back to the schoolwork that had piled up for them while they were unconscious.
Ron did everything in his power to delay doing his homework right away, even convincing Madam Pomfrey to send for his wizard's chess set. It arrived sometime after lunch, and as soon as Ron had the familiar chipped, faded chess set in his hands, he began begging Hermione to put the homework aside just for a bit so they could have a game. She reluctantly agreed, and Ron began schooling her on the finer points of chess.
Even though Hermione never even came close to beating Ron, they still had a good time playing, and before either one realized how much time had passed, Madam Pomfrey brought their dinner in along with two new visitors: Neville and Ginny.
Neville kept smirking at Ron and Hermione the entire time, and the fact that Ron and Hermione refused to talk about what they were doing out in the Forbidden Forest – since Neville had absolutely no knowledge of Ron's mission – just seemed to make him smirk even more.
Ron knew that Neville was dying to talk about the rumors floating around about the supposedly romantic broom-ride he'd taken with Hermione, and he was thankful that Neville had the good sense to keep his comments and questions to himself.
The sound of high-heeled shoes click-clacking rapidly on the stone floor outside the hospital wing drew Ron's attention away from the conversation with his friends and sister. The sound was steadily coming closer, and he looked towards the double doors, waiting for what he knew was about to happen.
"Hem, hem!"
Pushing her way through the doors into the hospital wing, Dolores Umbridge appeared, dressed in her trademark pink cardigan, with a maliciously gleeful look in her eye and a saccharine sweet smile on her toad-like face.
"I have official business to tend to with Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger," she announced in her little-girl voice, "All other students must leave immediately."
Neville and Ginny looked at each other before looking at Ron and Hermione. Neville shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way towards the door. Ginny gave a quick hug to Ron before waving goodbye and hurrying after her boyfriend.
"We'll see you two later," Ginny said as she locked arms with Neville and the two of them left the infirmary.
"I'll bring you're homework by tomorrow," Neville said, with a wry grin towards Ron, "I know you can't wait to get your hands on it."
"Don't do me any favors," Ron grumbled.
As soon as Ginny and Neville were out of sight, Umbridge giggled in that disturbing way she had and stepped up to the beds. There was a lightness to her step and she appeared much too happy; Ron knew that probably meant bad news for him.
"Mr. Longbottom won't need to bother bringing your homework to you," Umbridge said, sounding much too giddy, "Since you'll be leaving Hogwarts immediately."
"Leaving?" Hermione echoed, sitting up straight and looking concerned.
"Why would we be leaving Hogwarts?" Ron asked, giving Umbridge a dubious look. He knew there was something she was holding back, and he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Because you're being expelled of course," Umbridge said with a sick little contented giggle at the end of her statement.
"Expelled?" Ron and Hermione exclaimed simultaneously. Ron cast a look at Hermione and could see the terrified look on her face; he knew being expelled was one of her biggest fears.
"I can't be expelled…I just can't!" Hermione cried, starting to fidget nervously with the sheet on her bed.
"You can and you will!" Umbridge snapped, the earlier happiness in her tone giving way to stern annoyance, "You were caught out of bounds in a forbidden area when you should have been attending class, Miss Granger. As a prefect, you should understand how serious this offense is."
"You can't expel us," Ron said, glaring hatefully at the pink-clad bureaucrat, "You don't have the authority."
Umbridge turned her gaze on Ron, looking furious at him for having the gall to talk back to her. "Authority? As Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, Mr. Weasley, I have the authority to do a great many things!"
"However, expelling students is not one of them."
None of them had heard the doors to the hospital wing open, but never-the-less, there Dumbledore stood, hands on his hips and a look of grim determination on his face. It was that expression that had Ron feeling torn at the headmaster's arrival; on the one hand, he was fairly certain the old wizard would go to bat for him against Umbridge…but on the other hand, he wasn't quite sure that Dumbledore's disgruntled visage wasn't being aimed at him.
"The decision to expel students from Hogwarts, Dolores, has always been left up to the school's headmaster."
"This is a safety concern, Dumbledore, and as Ministry-appointed safety inspector, it falls under my purview!" Umbridge said angrily, puffing herself up as she stormed over towards the schoolmaster, "Weasley's flouting of the school's safety protocols has once again landed him in the hospital wing, only this time he's caused the injury of another student as well! He deserves expulsion! They both do!"
"Believe me, Dolores, Mr. Weasley's recent actions will, indeed, result in a stiff punishment being leveled at him," Dumbledore said, and the stern look the old wizard gave Ron told him that he was correct in his earlier assumption that the headmaster's dour mood was his doing, "Miss Granger, too, will be punished for her part in recent events. These are school-related matters and as such do not concern the Ministry."
"I will be the judge of what does and does not concern the Ministry, Dumbledore," Umbridge said viciously, "You would do well to be mindful of the fact that your position of headmaster of this school is not as absolute as you might think."
"If the Minister wishes to discuss education reform or the appointing of a new headmaster for Hogwarts, he should take it up with the school governors," Dumbledore said completely humorlessly, "Until such time, however, decisions made within this school concerning the students, discipline, and educational practices fall to me."
"This is not over, Dumbledore!" Umbridge hissed, before stomping out of the hospital wing, her pink heels once again click-clacking noisily down the hall.
Silence filled the hospital wing as the echoing of Umbridge's pink high heels on the flagstone floor faded into the distance. The silence was broken awkwardly by Ron addressing the headmaster.
"Thanks for standing up for us, Professor," Ron said nervously. He knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but was still grateful that the headmaster wasn't going to allow them to be expelled.
"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore sighed in exasperation, turning his stern gaze on the redhead, "As loath as I am to agree with Professor Umbridge, your recent activities would indeed be worthy of expulsion under normal circumstances…"
"But, Professor…!" Hermione exclaimed, her face a mask of panic.
The old wizard held up a hand to stop Hermione's frantic rant before it truly got started. "I said 'under normal circumstances', Miss Granger. I'm certain that the circumstances behind what occurred in the Forbidden Forest a week ago are anything but ordinary."
"You can say that again," Ron said grimly.
Dumbledore cast an Imperturbable Charm on the hospital wing, sealing it off, and Ron began a detailed re-telling of what happened down in the Chamber of Secrets. The bulk of the tale was related by Ron, though Hermione did chime in from time-to-time. In the end, the story left Dumbledore stroking his bearded chin and looking pensive.
"I must say, Mr. Potter's behavior is cause for concern," Dumbledore said, frowning, "This is definitely an unforeseen complication."
"Cause for concern?" Hermione exclaimed, eyes wide, "An unforeseen complication? Professor, he tried to kill us! In fact, he admitted to using the Killing Curse on Ron over the summer! He wanted to know how Ron had survived, and I have to say that I'm really curious about that, myself."
Dumbledore glanced at Ron, and he could tell in no uncertain terms that the headmaster was not happy with him.
"Erm…maybe we can talk about that later, Hermione," Ron said nervously, "There's other stuff that's more important right now."
"More important than how you survived the Killing Curse?" Hermione exclaimed, "You can't be serious! The curse is supposed to be un-survivable, and yet you and Harry Potter both survived it! We need to find out why!"
"Miss Granger…please, calm down," Dumbledore said, putting a hand up to try and quiet her, "We really must deal with one mystery at a time, and I'd rather deal with the items you retrieved from the Chamber of Secrets first."
Ron nodded. He knew there was no way either one of them could explain to Hermione just how he'd managed to survive the Killing Curse. Telling her the truth…that it was a different Ron that Harry had cursed and that he didn't actually survive…would just complicate matters. At least, he was fairly sure that would be Dumbledore's stand; the old wizard was already extremely put-out that Hermione knew anything.
"I put the things in my rucksack," Ron explained, looking around for his bag. He spotted it on a shelf beneath his bedside table and quickly retrieved it. He opened it and found, among other things, his and Hermione's wands, the invisibility cloak, and the five items he had taken out of the wall niches in the Chamber. He handed Hermione her wand and then began pulling the strange items out of his bag, starting with Riddle's diary. "I have no idea what they are, but I figured since they were being kept with the diary, they might be important."
"Diary? What diary?" Hermione had gotten out of her bed and had moved closer to Ron's for a better look at the mysterious items she had yet to see close-up.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a deep frown on his face, "Perhaps you should let Mr. Weasley and I discuss this matter in private."
"But…I want to help," Hermione said plaintively, looking first at Dumbledore and then at Ron.
"Professor…she almost died helping me get these things out of the Chamber," Ron said, giving the old wizard a determined and rebellious look, "I think she's got a right to know."
"Mr. Weasley…" Dumbledore began in a warning voice.
"Either we tell her now, or I'll tell her later," Ron said, setting his jaw defiantly, "I trust Hermione…just like you trust Snape and Professor McGonagall."
Dumbledore and Ron locked eyes for a moment, and Ron could swear he'd seen anger flashing briefly in the headmaster's blue eyes. He knew the old wizard wasn't used to his students defying him, but this was not something that Ron was willing to give-in on.
"Very well, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore sighed in surrender, "Proceed."
Ron nodded and began regaling Hermione with the tale of the mission that Dumbledore had laid before him. He hit all the major points: the diary, Harry's possession, You-Know-Who's presumed return, the two prophecies, and anything else he thought was relevant to the story. He did, of course, leave out one major point: that he was actually the Ron Weasley from a parallel universe that Dumbledore "Borrowed" because the Ron Weasley native to this universe was dead. Other than that, though, Hermione got the whole story.
Dumbledore, for the most part, remained quiet the whole time, seemingly content to allow Ron the headache of explaining the situation to Hermione. Ron couldn't help thinking maybe there was just a bit of spite involved, since the old wizard didn't want to let Hermione know what was going on in the first place.
Once Ron had finished explaining everything to her, Hermione gave him a look like she thought he might well be insane. "Let me see if I have this straight. Even though you can't prove it, you think You-Know-Who has returned…you think Harry Potter is under the control of You-Know-Who's old diary…a prophecy says that only Harry Potter can defeat You-Know-Who…and another prophecy says that only you can free Harry Potter from You-Know-Who's control…and to do that you have to destroy the diary."
"That about sums it up," Ron agreed, nodding.
"Do you know how crazy that sounds?" Hermione asked, eyes wide and voice rising in pitch, "You're trying to blame years of bad behavior…of attempted murder…on a book! I'm sorry, Ron, I just can't believe that. I mean, no harm ever came from reading a book!"
"You've gotta trust me on this one, Hermione," Ron said, thinking back to what happened to his sister in Second Year, "I know what I'm talking about."
He locked eyes with Hermione and he could tell that she was fighting an internal battle. Her desire to believe him was struggling with her belief that books…all books…were a good thing. Books, after all, meant knowledge…and how could knowledge be bad? Ron's stomach dropped when she suddenly looked away.
"I'm sorry, Ron," she said softly, "I don't mean to sound like I don't trust you…it's just that this is so hard to believe."
"I understand that, Hermione…but I'm telling you the truth."
Several moments of tense silence passed before Hermione nodded her head and responded. "I know, Ron. I believe you."
"Now that that has been settled," Dumbledore said humorlessly, "Perhaps we could turn our attention back to the items you retrieved from the Chamber."
"Oh…right…yeah," Ron said, nodding as he turned his attention away from Hermione and back to the headmaster. He handed the aged wizard the book he'd been holding in his hand, "Here's the diary…"
Dumbledore waved his wand over the diary before taking it from Ron's outstretched hand. He looked down at the warped, cracked, singed-looking book and frowned. He flipped through the blank, crumbling pages, a curious look on his face.
"Mr. Weasley…are you sure this is the right book," Dumbledore asked.
"Yeah, of course," Ron said, nodding, "Says so right on the first page, 'T.M. Riddle'. Why?"
Dumbledore flipped back to the first page but was unable to make out anything but a blotting of ink on the old parchment. "And you didn't do anything to the book…didn't cast any spells or try to destroy it while you were in the Chamber of Secrets?"
"No, I didn't have time," Ron explained, wondering what Dumbledore was getting at, "What's going on, Professor?"
"When I examined the book with my wand, Mr. Weasley, while there was a residue of Dark Magic present, there was nothing about the book that would enable it to possess someone as we believe Mr. Potter was possessed."
"I told you so," Hermione said, prompting Ron to turn and glare at her momentarily.
"Actually, Miss Granger, I did say there was a residue of magical energy. All magic…especially Dark Magic…leaves its mark on objects that have been enchanted. Whatever Dark Magic was flowing through this diary at one time was very powerful and very dangerous…but whatever it was, it is gone now."
"So, the book…?" Ron began, looking at the old wizard for more.
"Is a harmless artifact of a bygone day at this point," Dumbledore finished, "And judging by the manner in which it is decaying, I suspect it will be little more than a pile of dust before much longer."
"So, Harry's not under the spell of the book?" Ron said hopelessly.
"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head.
"So, Harry Potter really is an evil, homicidal maniac," Hermione added, once again causing Ron to flash her a dark, disgruntled look.
"Professor…there's gotta be something we can do," Ron said, trying to think of a back-up plan. They had put their eggs all in this one basket and hadn't really thought of any contingencies. Now, however, they had no choice, "I know Harry, and he is not a killer. Can't you just cast a spell and fix him?"
"Mr. Weasley, if it were that easy to solve a problem such as this, there would be no need for prisons such as Azkaban," Dumbledore responded diplomatically, "If this could all be solved with the wave of a wand, I wouldn't have needed to come to you for help."
Ron nodded silently. He knew the old wizard was right, even if he didn't want to admit it. Magic was…well…magical, but it couldn't solve every single problem. Even wizards who'd spent their whole lives around magic and tended to take it for granted knew that.
"There's gotta be something we can do to help Harry," Ron said finally.
"Before Mr. Potter can be helped, he must first be found," Dumbledore replied cryptically.
"What d'you mean?" Ron asked, confused.
"Mr. Potter has not been seen since the day Hagrid found you in the Dark Forest," Dumbledore explained, "His current whereabouts are unknown."
"Could he be hiding out down in the Chamber?" Ron asked the headmaster.
"Doubtful, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, shaking his head, "It has been a week…certainly he would have needed to come up out of the Chamber of Secrets, in search of food if nothing else. Shortly after you were recovered from the forest, I placed magical wards around the Chamber's entrance in the girls' lavatory…and those wards have not been broken."
"Maybe he's getting in and out through the same tunnel we used to escape the Chamber," Ron suggested, "He'd come out in the middle of the Forbidden Forest where nobody would be around to see him."
"That is a possibility, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore agreed, "However, something tells me that Mr. Potter has fled Hogwarts."
"He probably ran off because he didn't want to go to prison for trying to kill us," Hermione suggested.
Ron turned and started to protest, but he couldn't…she might just be right. As well as Ron knew Harry Potter, if Harry's actions down in the Chamber of Secrets were done of his own free will, then he really didn't know Harry…this Harry…at all.
"Professor…do you have any idea what that spell was that burned us when we came out of that tunnel?" Ron asked, changing the subject to something he'd been curious about ever since he came to.
"As a matter of fact, Mr. Weasley, I do," Dumbledore said, "Professor Snape has informed me that that particular spell is a favorite warding spell used by Voldemort's followers. Coming in contact with it is often fatal…resulting in a slow, painful death. You're both quite lucky that Professor Snape was here and knew what to do to counteract the burns and start the healing process. You owe him your lives."
"Just what I wanted to hear," Ron grumbled.
"Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed in a scolding tone.
He rolled his eyes, but then looked properly chastened. Of all the people to owe his life to…why did it have to be Snape? The only thing worse would be owing his life to one of the Malfoys.
"So…now what?" Ron asked, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Perhaps if you showed me the other items that you brought back from the Chamber," Dumbledore said, "We might be able to get some clue as to what our next course of action should be."
Ron nodded and started bringing out the remaining four items, laying them out on his bed around the remains of Riddle's diary: a tarnished ring with a crack running down the center of its stone, a melted gold cup with what had once been an engraving of a small animal of some kind, a busted locket hanging precariously from a snapped chain, and the broken remains of a delicate-looking tiara.
"Like I said, I don't know what these things are, but they were kept with the diary…so I thought they might be important."
Dumbledore waved his wand over the four new items on the bed and frowned. "You made a wise decision, Mr. Weasley. These four objects display the same residual mark of Dark Magic as the diary; they may well prove to be significant."
"But what do you suppose they are?" Ron asked. If Riddle's diary wasn't the key to helping Harry, then maybe one of these things was.
"I will need to study them at length before I will know for certain, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, waving his wand again and levitating all five of the objects into the air next to him, "As soon as I know definitively what these objects are…and what they mean for your mission…I will let you know."
"Both of us?" Hermione asked hopefully.
Dumbledore sighed and nodded, "Yes, Miss Granger…both of you."
The headmaster's response made Hermione smile and nod, and Ron felt a bit of relief knowing that, even if he didn't approve, Dumbledore was going to allow her to help with the mission.
"There is one last thing, before I go," Dumbledore said, "And that is the matter of your punishments."
"What? But –" Ron and Hermione both tried to protest at the same time, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence them both.
"Professor Umbridge is correct in that your actions, taken out of context, do deserve a stern punishment, and while I think expulsion or stripping you of your prefect status might be a bit harsh considering the true facts…I do believe that I will need to issue some sort of punishment to keep up appearances."
Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks as the headmaster continued.
"Furthermore, with Mr. Potter's current whereabouts being unknown, I do not think it's safe for either one of you to be outside the school grounds. Rumors of your broom-ride in the forest have circulated throughout the castle; everyone knows you were together that day…including Mr. Potter, no doubt. He may seek revenge on one or both of you."
Ron grimaced. This was his fault. Hermione tried helping him, and now she was in danger. He looked over at her and saw her, jaw set firmly, waiting for Dumbledore to mete out punishment that neither one of them truly deserved.
"Until further notice, neither one of you are permitted to go to Hogsmeade. It would be much too easy for Mr. Potter to get to the two of you in the village."
Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Neither one wanted to admit it, but the headmaster did have a point.
"Losing your Hogsmeade privileges should be enough of a punishment that even Professor Umbridge would consider you thoroughly punished for your actions."
"I doubt it," Ron scoffed.
Perhaps not," Dumbledore agreed with a twinkle in his eye before finally making his exit, "But until Dolores Umbridge is headmistress of this school, she will have to live with it."
The meeting with Dumbledore set the tone for the rest of the day. Ron and Hermione remained mostly quiet, catching up on their schoolwork and talking only when necessary. It was so boring and tense that Ron was glad whenever Madam Pomfrey came in to check on them, just for a break in the monotony.
After dinner, Hermione sat quietly reading in her bed while Ron was forced to frustratedly play one game of wizard chess after another against himself. While that meant he finally had an opponent that could give him a run for his money, it also meant that, for the first time in his life, he'd had no fun while playing chess. Eventually, he gave up and went to bed.
Ron had almost drifted off to sleep when the doors to the hospital wing opened once again. Visiting hours were long since over, and Madam Pomfrey had retired to her own quarters for the night. A quick look at Hermione revealed that she, too, was asleep; not surprising, as it had been a long day.
Ron rolled over so that he was facing the hospital wing doors and saw Luna Lovegood making her way across the ward as quietly as she could. He sat up when she came closer; shooting a look towards Madam Pomfrey's office to make sure that her door was still shut.
"Hello, Ronald," Luna said as she sat in the chair at his bedside.
"Hi, Luna," Ron replied in a whisper, trying his best not to wake Hermione or draw the attention of the school nurse, "You know it's past curfew; you could get in trouble."
"I don't mind," the blonde girl said, shaking her head, "Ginny told me that you finally woke up, so I thought I should come see you. I'm sorry…but I wasn't able to bring you any pudding this time."
"That's alright," he said, smiling, "You don't need to bring me something every time you visit me in the hospital wing."
"Oh, but I did bring you something. It's the reason I'm here so late…it took several hours to brew," Luna said, excitedly reaching into the bag she had slung over her shoulder and pulling out a jam jar full of a dark rust-colored liquid, "It's an infusion of Gurdyroots mixed with Dirigible Plum juice. It makes your toes tingle quite nicely if you drink it, but when applied to the skin, it's an excellent Slavering Twinkleflit repellant."
"Slobbering what-now?" Ron asked, giving her a confused look as he took the jar from her. He sloshed the liquid around in the jar, getting a good look at it. There was an odor about it that was not altogether appealing.
"Slavering Twinkleflits," Luna said again. She leaned in close and began whispering conspiratorially, "Most of the school thinks you and Hermione Granger were in the Forbidden Forest taking a romantic broom-ride, but I know the truth."
"Do you?" he replied, giving her an inscrutable look. He seriously doubted that she did know the truth, but he wanted to hear what the enigmatic young Ravenclaw had to say nonetheless.
"Of course," she said, nodding, "It was obvious when I heard about the blindfolds that you were wearing and about the burns you'd received. Slavering Twinkleflits emit beautiful sparkling lights in a hypnotic pattern; you wore the blindfolds so you wouldn't be hypnotized. The Twinkleflits' saliva is very acidic, and they spit as a defense mechanism; that's how you got the burns."
Ron couldn't help grinning at Luna's explanation. It was so far-fetched, but it was no more far-fetched than the actual truth.
"And what do you think we were trying to do with these Twinkiefritz things?" he asked, putting the jar of repellant down on his bedside table.
"Don't be silly, Ronald," the blonde girl said, laughing in that odd way she had, "Everyone knows that if you hold up a mirror to a Twinkleflit when it tries to hypnotize you, they will hypnotize themselves. Hypnotized Twinkleflits make lovely Christmas decorations with their colorful lights…as long as you don't look directly at them."
"So, we were out there trying to catch Christmas ornaments?" he replied, doing his best to hold back a laugh at the ridiculousness at the idea.
"Christmas is only a few weeks away," she said, as if it made perfect sense. She then took on a very serious tone. "You really should be more careful next time, Ronald. When you go back out there, be sure to use the repellant I gave you. It will protect you from Twinkleflit saliva so you won't wind up in here again so soon."
"I'll be careful," he nodded, humoring the girl, "The very next time I go Twinkleflit hunting, I'll be sure and use your repellant."
She smiled brightly at him and rose from her seat. "I'll let you get some sleep, then. Good night, Ronald."
Ron watched Luna leave the hospital wing and hunkered down in his bed, ready to get some sleep. He had just closed his eyes when a quiet voice from beside him drew his attention.
"You know they aren't real, don't you?"
Ron rolled over onto his side and faced Hermione. She was still lying down and appeared for all the world to still be asleep. However, when she opened her eyes and looked right at him, he could see she was clearly awake.
"Slavering Twinkleflits…honestly!" Hermione huffed, "Does she realize how ridiculous she sounds?"
"She may sound a bit barmy," Ron replied, shrugging as well as he could while lying on his side, "But she's harmless."
Hermione frowned and for a split-second, he thought he saw jealousy flash in her eyes…but he figured he must be mistaken. What would she possibly have to be jealous of?
"Why do you humor her?" Hermione asked somewhat bitterly, "Going along with her delusions just encourages her to continue to act…odd."
"I reckon I don't see the point in telling her that all those little whatsits she's always banging on about aren't real. Plus, the last time I was in here, she brought me an entire chocolate cake; that makes her a friend in my book."
"I think she fancies you," Hermione said quietly.
"Luna? Nah…I doubt it," Ron said, chuckling, "I think she's just grown attached to me because she's friends with Ginny. Besides, Luna's not my type."
"Good to know."
With that, Hermione rolled over so that her back was to Ron, leaving him to wonder about what she'd said as he laid there waiting for sleep to finally overtake him.
The next morning, when Ron awoke, he had high hopes that this day would be much better than the previous one had been. The encounter with Umbridge and the meeting with Dumbledore had been very depressing, but things were already starting to look up.
Following her morning examination of them, Madam Pomfrey declared them to be healthy enough to return to Gryffindor tower, and told Ron and Hermione that they would be permitted to leave around lunchtime. She would arrange for a change of clothes to be brought to them, so they wouldn't have to walk through the castle in their pajamas.
When the nurse brought them breakfast – consisting, to Ron's chagrin, of porridge, toast, and fresh fruit – she also brought along the morning's owl post for Hermione. Ron wasn't surprised that, once again, he had gotten nothing. Hermione, however, had gotten a rather large package wrapped in brown paper.
"What's that?" Ron asked as Hermione hefted the parcel into her lap.
"I have no idea," Hermione admitted, shaking her head, "It's a bit too early for Christmas gifts…and I haven't purchased anything via owl order recently."
"Well, open it!" he said enthusiastically, "That's one way to find out what it is."
Hermione nodded in agreement and began carefully opening the package as if she were preserving the brown paper it was wrapped in for all of posterity. Her eyes were glinting with excitement as she finally managed to get it open, but then her face visibly fell.
"Oh."
"What? What is it?" Ron asked, concerned by her sudden change in demeanor.
"It's from Viktor," Hermione said, picking up a letter that accompanied the parcel. Her eyes quickly scanned the letter before looking down at what the parcel contained. She reached in and picked up a heavy jumper that was much too big for her. It was somewhat plain-looking, made of thick black wool with scarlet stripes on the sleeves; but as Hermione turned it around, Ron could see the word "Krum" in bold red letters across the back.
"It's his practice jumper," Ron said, recognizing the piece of clothing from similar gear he wore himself when taking part in team practices out on the pitch.
"He says that since I was so cold wearing the robes he bought for me last time, I should wear this when we meet in Hogsmeade this weekend," Hermione explained, frowning, "I suppose I shall have to write him back and let him know I won't be able to meet him in the village anymore."
"Yeah…sorry about that," Ron wasn't really sorry, since he really didn't want Hermione spending time with that Bulgarian git…but he couldn't come out and say that. Krum was her boyfriend, and as much as he hated the fact, it wasn't his place to interfere…though he desperately wanted to. He knew they were having problems…and that he, himself, had become a point of contention between the two. He wanted to tell Hermione to chuck Krum, but he didn't know if their friendship – which was somewhat new and at times seemed rather tentative – could withstand him making such a suggestion.
Hermione sighed and dropped the sweater into her lap and looked out the window, as if lost in thought. Ron remained silent, simply watching her. After about five minutes of gazing out the window, Hermione turned her attention to the jumper in her lap. She ran her fingers over the scarlet letters and frowned.
"You must be really cut-up about not meeting Vick—…err…Krum down in Hogsmeade," he said, breaking the silence. She certainly looked cut-up.
"It's not that," she replied, shaking her head.
"Then, what…?"
"He gave me this to send a message," she said bitterly, "He's trying to mark me as his territory because he feels threatened."
"Threatened?" he replied quizzically, "Threatened by what?"
"By you."
She said it quietly, and she didn't look at him as she did. Ron couldn't believe it. Why would Krum be threatened by him? Krum was rich, famous, great at Quidditch and, most importantly, he was Hermione's boyfriend. Ron was nothing compared to all that.
"He's threatened by our friendship, Ron," Hermione continued, this time finally bringing herself to look at him, "He's already told me that he doesn't want us to be friends…and now he wants to make sure everyone knows…that you know…that I belong to him."
Ron didn't know what to say, so he remained quiet. He could see that Hermione was on her way to being angry over this, and he knew it was better to keep his mouth shut than to risk her turning her anger towards him.
"I'm nobody's property," she said bitterly, balling her fists up on top of the sweater in her lap, "God, it's like Viktor doesn't know me at all!"
"Maybe he doesn't," Ron said quietly.
"What?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He knew he was walking a thin line now.
"Hear me out," he said, trying to keep her from starting a row with him, "You and Krum were together for a few months last year…you were busy studying and he was busy preparing for the Triwizard tasks. How much time did the two of you really spend talking?"
"Not much," she admitted, nodding her head, "Most of the time we were together, he sat in the library watching me study. It was a bit unnerving, to tell you the truth…and with all the Quidditch fans, both male and female, following him around, it became increasingly frustrating to try and study with all the distractions. Eventually, I took to studying in my dorm where it was relatively quiet."
"And when you went to stay with him over the summer, you probably spent most of your time sightseeing and trying to learn about the Wizarding culture in Bulgaria. Plus, he probably spent a lot of time training for Quidditch…what with signing with a new team and all."
"What makes you think I spent the summer in Bulgaria?" Hermione asked sharply.
Ron blushed and looked down at his lap where he was nervously picking at his sheet. "Well, I heard that he invited you…and I figured, why wouldn't you go? I mean…he's your boyfriend and all…"
"He is my boyfriend," she agreed, "And he did invite me to stay with him…but I didn't go. Spending the summer with someone I just met a few months before…boyfriend or not…is not something I was willing to do. And even if I wanted to go, my parents would have never allowed it."
"Oh. Well…good…err…I don't mean good," he stammered, blushing, "What I mean is…err…it's good that you didn't do something you weren't ready to do just to make him happy. Erm…okay, then…so…back to the point I was making…erm…what was the point I was making again?"
"That Viktor doesn't really know me," she said, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Right!" he nodded, continuing on and trying to get his blushing under control, "Well…most of what he knows about you is from those five-foot-long letters you send him, and while it is possible to get to know things about a person through their letters…to really get to know someone, you have to spend time with them…you know?"
"My letters to Viktor are never that long," Hermione said defensively, blushing. She smiled demurely then and looked down at her lap and the heavy jumper her boyfriend had sent her, "I know what you mean, though. I think if Viktor had given me this sweater last year, I'd have been thrilled and would have worn it proudly and happily…but this year…things are different. I'm different."
Ron nodded.
"I was so excited when he asked me to the Yule Ball," she said, chuckling, "Me…the know-it-all bookworm instead of one of those pretty girls that seemed to flock to him whenever he was around. And when he asked me to be his girlfriend…I thought I might faint. Here I was, Hermione Granger, and not only did I have a boyfriend, but a boyfriend that made girls envious of me. It really was a bit overwhelming."
"I bet," he agreed.
She looked pensive when she continued. "But now…I think I'd prefer a boyfriend who really got to know me, to one who generates crowds of fans everywhere we go."
"I guess that means Lockhart's out of the running, yeah?" Ron joked, smiling.
"Again you bring up Gilderoy Lockhart?" Hermione laughed, "My God…am I ever going to live that down? I was thirteen…people tend to outgrow the crushes they had at thirteen."
"I dunno," he shrugged, looking down at his sheets, "I reckon it's possible to fancy someone at thirteen and still fancy them when you're older."
"Still hoping Madam Rosmerta will notice you?" she asked, teasing him.
He blushed and looked away. "No…like you said…I think I outgrew that."
"So there's someone else you've fancied since then?" Hermione asked, sounding intrigued yet playful, "Who is it…Lavender Brown? Parvati Patil? I thought maybe that you might fancy Luna Lovegood until you told me otherwise. So come on…if not her, then who?"
"Maybe we should change the subject," Ron said, not wanting to admit who it was he fancied, "What do you plan on doing with the jumper?"
"Well…I suppose I could send it back," Hermione said, clearly lost in thought, "Although I think if Viktor's girlfriend sent this back to him, he might be quite put-out. Sending it back might be seen as an attempt to end things between us."
"You could sell it," Ron suggested, "Authentic Quidditch memorabilia can bring in quite a few galleons…especially if it's something that belongs to a really popular player. You could sell it and then donate the proceeds to elfish welfare."
"Elfish welfare…what are you talking about?" she asked, shooting him a funny look.
"Err…nevermind," he said, shaking his head, "Maybe you should just burn it."
Hermione broke into laughter at that suggestion, "I think that might be a bit too drastic, don't you think? No…I think I'll just send it back."
"I'd let you borrow Pig, but I don't think the little bloke could manage it."
"That's alright, Ron; the school's owls will do just fine," she said, smiling, "Once Madam Pomfrey clears us to leave, I'll go to the owlery and send it back."
"The twins might come to bother us if they have a free period this morning," he said, "If they do, we could get them to send it off for you." He was very anxious for Hermione to return the sweater…especially if it meant Krum might think she was chucking him.
"Oh, no!" she said, shaking her head vehemently, "I'm not letting your brothers near it. There's no telling what those two would do. Poor Viktor might open the box and have the sweater explode in his face."
"Poor Viktor?" Ron exclaimed, glaring at her. Wasn't she just complaining about 'poor Viktor' earlier? What the Hell?
She blushed and dropped her gaze to her lap. "Just because I'm returning his jumper doesn't mean I want something horrible to happen to him."
"Merlin forbid the git who tried to treat you like property should have something bad happen to him," Ron grumbled, looking away from her.
"Ron…"
"Do what you want, I don't care," he snapped, waving his hand dismissively at her.
"I know you don't mean that," she said, sounding hurt by his words, "Why does this happen every time Viktor's name comes up?"
"Why does what happen?" he growled, looking at her darkly.
"You…you get all moody…and sometimes you get downright mean," she said, frowning.
"I don't like him," Ron admitted, "Truth is, I hate him."
"But why?" Hermione asked sincerely, "Neville said you used to idolize Viktor."
Ron snorted derisively at the concept of idolizing Viktor Krum. "I also used to wear nappies and think Percy was cool. People grow, Hermione…they change."
"Don't I know it," she sighed, looking down.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked harshly.
"You used to hate me, Ron," she reminded him, "You spent four years being horrible to me and then you come back this year and you start treating me like your life is incomplete without me as your friend."
"Hermione…"
"I don't know if it's because you almost died over the summer or what," she said, "But you're not the same Ron Weasley that you were."
"Hermione…!"
"Your friendship is so important to me, Ron," she confessed, tears rolling down her cheeks, "These last few months, since we've become friends, have been the happiest I've been since coming to Hogwarts. I don't want to lose your friendship."
"'Mione, you won't," he assured her, getting up out of his bed and sitting on the edge of hers, "I promise…we'll be friends to the bitter end."
"Then you need to stop getting mad at me every time I mention Viktor," she said, looking up at him with red, watery eyes, "He's my boyfriend, Ron."
"And you love him," he replied, frowning and looking down at his lap. He didn't want to hear Hermione say it, but there was really no way to get around that fact. She loved Krum, and he, Ron, would only ever be her friend…or so he thought. However, after Hermione remained quiet for nearly a minute, Ron started to doubt the conclusion he'd jumped to, "You do love him, don't you?"
"I don't know," Hermione finally admitted, turning away from him to look out the window, "I know I'm supposed to…he's my boyfriend, after all. But I really don't know if I love him. Am I terrible?"
"No, of course not," Ron said, shaking his head. He didn't think she was terrible; frankly, hearing that Hermione didn't know if she was in love with Krum or not was something that gave him hope. Ever since the moment he saw her walk into the Yule Ball on Viktor Krum's arm, he had worried that he had lost her…that he had lost his chance with her. Now, however, maybe there was hope for him after all.
"Viktor can be very sweet, and I know he cares about me," Hermione said, looking down into her lap, running her fingers over Viktor's wool jumper, "But there are times…it's like he has expectations of me that I'm not entirely comfortable with."
Ron felt his stomach drop. She didn't mean…? "He…he asks you to…err…do stuff?" he asked, blushing to the tips of his ears. He really wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his question.
"What? Oh! Oh, no! Not like that," Hermione said, blushing heavily, "Not yet, anyway. No, I meant…like telling me what to wear and expecting me to look like I did at the Yule Ball whenever we're together…"
"You mean with the makeup and the hair?" he asked, his face still red. He was glad that the last question he'd asked her had been answered in the negative; he already despised Krum with his every breath, but if the Bulgarian had done that to…with…Hermione…he would seriously have to consider killing the Quidditch star.
"Yes, he always wants me to 'look pretty' for him," she said, sighing, "And whenever I try to talk about the future…about what I'd like to do for a living…he brings up the fact that his mother never worked and just stayed home raising him and his siblings…as though that's what I should do with my life."
"It's not uncommon for witches to stay home and raise the kids," he said, shrugging. He didn't want to seem like he was agreeing with Krum…even he could see, as thick as he often was, that Hermione Granger was not the stay-at-home mother type. However… "My mum never worked…just stayed home and took care of us kids. Of course, there were seven of us."
"Exactly," she said, nodding, "There's so many of you, that she'd need to stay home…but if your mother wanted to work, I bet your father would support her…he wouldn't try and force her to stay home, right?"
"Of course," he nodded, "Dad wouldn't dare try to stand in Mum's way if she wanted to do something. Not if he knew what was good for him."
"Something tells me, though, that Viktor's mother was just expected to stay home," she said bitterly, "And something tells me Viktor's wife will be expected to do the same."
"Please tell me you don't plan on marrying Krum!" Ron exclaimed, "'Mione, you're too young!"
"I happen to agree with you, Ron," Hermione said, nodding, "I don't plan on getting married until I'm at least out of school. My point is that Viktor doesn't seem to care what I want to do with my life. I don't think I can love someone like that."
"You shouldn't have to," he said, shaking his head, "You're a brilliant witch, and I know you. You're going to go far once you're out of school…bloody Hell, Hermione, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if you changed the world."
Hermione blushed heavily, smiling demurely, "Thanks."
He nodded in acknowledgement before continuing, "I don't know much about being in love…and I'm rubbish with feelings…except for the ones that see me putting my foot in my mouth and either getting me in trouble or hurting somebody's feelings…but I don't think you should have to love someone who doesn't respect you enough to care about what you want."
Hermione sat there looking at him, seemingly stunned. "Who are you and what have you done with Ron Weasley?"
"Err…"
"Seriously, Ron, I'm jealous," she said, smiling at him, "Whoever that girl is that you've fancied since you were thirteen is really lucky…provided you tell her how you feel."
"I don't think I can do that," he said, shaking his head.
"Why not?" she asked, frowning.
"She's got a boyfriend," he said, looking down, "And even though he's a real git, I doubt I can compete with him; he can give her everything, and I can't give her anything."
"Now you listen to me, Ron Weasley," Hermione said with a seriously stern look on her face, "Don't you ever say that about yourself. You're a great guy…and the best friend I've ever had…so don't put yourself down, okay? Any girl would be lucky to have you…"
"Any girl?" he asked softly, reaching out and placing his hand atop hers. He looked up at her and her eyes widened.
"Ron…who is she…who's the girl you fancy?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Hermione…"
"Ron…"
He didn't know what made him think this was a good idea…that it was worth the risk. Dancing around fuzzily in the back of his head were visions of some other world and some other girl…or, rather, the same girl…which was why this seemed to make sense; as crazy as that sounded.
Ron leaned in…she leaned in…he could feel her breath on his face, her nose bumping slightly against his own, her hair seeming to engulf them both. He closed his eyes as his visual field was filled with her face. This was going to happen…they were going to kiss.
"Viktor!" Hermione gasped, pulling away at the last possible second, sounding completely mortified by what they had almost done, "Ron, I have a boyfriend…I can't do this. I'm sorry…I…I can't!"
Ron was at a loss for words and could do nothing but watch as Hermione jumped out of her bed and fled the hospital wing, Viktor's jumper trailing behind her as she ran, leaving him behind with nothing but his thoughts and wounded pride.
Author's End Notes: Well, there you have it. Almost three chapters' worth of Ron/Hermione interaction all rolled up into one! I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did...or even if you didn't...feel free to let me know.
Look for the next chapter to be up in, hopefully, two weeks.