DISCLAIMER: I WISH I WAS THE MASTERMIND BEHIND THIS WORLD BUT ALAS, I AM NO JO ROWLING.
"I don't give a DAMN about the plan anymore!" Hermione yelled in Dumbledore's office. It was now an hour after the group had found Lucius' "present" and she was having a hard time agreeing with her professors and friends.
"Ms. Granger, I know you're upset, but we have to press on," Dumbledore repeated.
"Hermione, it's working. Maybe not the way we planned, but still working. My dad is scared, that's why he got so upset. He covers up fear with anger and insanity. If we stop now, he'll think he won, and he may strike sooner. And I'd rather him not try to take you until we know exactly why he's doing this!" Draco told her vehemently, trying to make her see reason.
But none of this mattered to Hermione. She didn't care about her safety anymore, not when it endangered innocent bystanders. Bystanders like her poor Crookshanks, who had to suffer because of her problem. Dumbledore had taken the box with her dead familiar right away, and assured her that he would get a proper burial.
"Listen, I don't care how scared he is, I'm not going to let you all risk your necks for me, just so I can go to sleep one night and wake up with one of your heads next to me on the pillow!"
"Ms. Granger, we're pressing on and that's the end!" Snape snapped.
"Yeah, Hermione, we can't stop now. I want you to be safe. I can't lose you," Harry said softly.
Looking around and seeing that no support was coming, she sat down in a huff.
"Do you think the spy could be one of the prefects?" Harry asked the group at large.
"I'm not sure. That seems the most logical, since it was hidden behind the prefect door, and all the prefects know that if the Head Girl or Boy isn't there to take a message, they can leave a note. Since you can't walk straight into the Head room without being invited in, the prefects just have to drop the note on the floor of their nook. To us, it only looks like a nook when we haven't specified a room; to the prefects, it's opposite. Unless invited in, it always looks like a small closet. Anything they leave in there is automatically transferred to ours," Draco explained, taking up his usual pacing by the fire.
"Can't we trace it back to at least which house it came from?" Harry asked him.
"No. Usually the prefects are supposed to address it, and the Head Boy or Girl will know who to get back to. There's no magical trace on it," Dumbledore answered.
"Well, it still narrows our field down doesn't it? I mean, instead of all the kids in the school, we've whittled it down to the handful of prefects for each house," Harry stated.
"So it would seem," Snape trailed off, looking uneasy, his face mirroring that of his godson's.
"No. I don't think so," Draco said abruptly. "It's too simple; too obvious. Lucius is crazy, but he's not stupid. I'd be willing to bet that he did it this way on purpose so we think it's a prefect."
"How else would he have known about the prefect door?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know but it's a disturbing thought. I believe Draco is right, however. I don't see Lucius going in for the obvious kill, so to speak. He might've had his spy listen in or something," Snape said. Everyone sat around contemplating that troubling notion.
"I suggest we get Ms. Granger back to her quarters. She will be excused from classes today," Dumbledore finally said.
"No," Hermione said abruptly. "I don't want him knowing he got to me. I'll go to class and meals."
"Very well. Severus, will you escort her back to her dorm so she can collect her backpack? I want to speak with Mr.'s Potter and Malfoy.
Snape bowed his head a fraction in compliance, and then guided Hermione out of the office.
They walked in silence; neither one pretending to be involved, nor any forced words of comfort were spoken, which was a relief to both. When they got to her room, they both walked in and she ran to her room to grab her bag while he stood waiting in the commons area. Finally she came out again, and both turned to leave, neither one even sparing a glance towards the prefect door.
XXX
"WHEW! What a week!" Harry exclaimed, dropping onto the couch in Hermione's commons area.
"You're telling me," Hermione agreed, rubbing her eyes. She was sitting in one of Draco's beanbag chairs, this one she had made scarlet with a huge gold lion, including a tail sticking out the back. Lately, out of sheer boredom, Hermione and Draco had started turning each other's random items into their house colors using a spell that lasted a full 24hrs, and the rule was that after you were got, you had to use the item like you normally would for that day. Already that week Hermione had had to brush her teeth using a green toothbrush shaped like a serpent, and Draco had to walk around using a bright red and gold striped backpack for a day. That morning she had woken up to find Athena no longer brown, but green and silver. In turn, she had just finished putting the final touches on his beanbag before flopping down in it.
"You know? This is pretty comfortable…" Hermione said, moving her butt around. Harry just laughed into his arm, which he had flung over his face.
That week, there had been no letters from Lucius, but they were all on edge waiting. They had continued on with the plan, and Hermione had let two more innuendos slip in class, one of which Snape deducted points from and told her to stay after class. When everyone had left, they had sat around talking and laughing about class for about 15 minutes before she ran off to be late to lunch again, thus fueling more rumors.
"So, how's living with Malfoy going?" Harry asked, nonchalantly.
"It's still great," Hermione laughed. "You know, he's not such a bad guy. You could try to get to know him a little more."
When Harry stayed silent, she continued. "It's hard on him this year, too. Almost half of his House can't stand him anymore because he did the right thing, and he never had any friends from the other Houses."
"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Oh, I know he was a right bastard, don't get me wrong. But that was when he really felt that way. When he came over to the Light, he was never allowed to be nice to anyone because he had to keep up appearances. Now, he's free to be whom he wants to be, but people still won't accept him."
"And I suppose you accept him? All of him?" Harry asked.
"More than you know, Harry. I've already had this talk with him; he knows how I feel about him-"
"And how exactly do you feel about him?"
"Oh, god, Harry; I don't feel romantically about him in any which way, trust me. Don't act so jealous," she told him.
"I'm not jealous. I could care less who he wants to date. He can be with every girl in this school and I wouldn't care-"
He was cut off by Hermione laughing.
"Wow, Harry. I meant don't be so jealous he's hording me or whatever. I never insinuated you were jealous of him."
"Whatever, Hermione; that's not what I meant."
"Stop being so moody all the time. You know, he was right last week: I'm not going to keep tiptoeing around you," she told him.
"I don't ASK you to tiptoe!" Harry said, his voice rising.
"No, but if I don't, then you get pissed!" she shot back.
"Just drop it, Hermione!"
"No! You get so upset at the smallest thing! All Draco said was that he was a good strategist, and you blew up!"
"I. Don't. Want. To. Talk. About. This," Harry said through his teeth.
"Well, I don't give a damn!"
"You just don't know when to quit do you, Hermione?" he said, jumping up off the couch.
"No, I don't! You need to talk!"
"Whoa. Uh, hey. I was just, uh, going to do some homework," a voice said from the door. Hermione and Harry both looked over to see Draco leaning against the door frame. "You know, I think I'll just get my books and do it in the library. Yeah. That's good. Bye."
They both watched the blonde walk out of the door, and then back at one another.
"I'm leaving," Harry said flatly.
"Like hell you are," Hermione answered.
"I don't feel like talking."
"Too bad."
"Give it a rest, Hermione," Harry said, as he turned his back on her to walk away.
"Why'd you freak out at Draco, Harry?" He ignored her and kept walking to the door.
"Why'd you freak out, Harry?" she repeated. This time, he hesitated at the door, his outstretched hand trembling with suppressed rage. Remembering what Draco had told her about Snape, Hermione knew what she had to do. Hating herself, she asked," Is it about Ron?"
Whirling so fast she almost missed it, Harry turned to look at her with murder in his eyes.
"DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM," Harry nearly yelled.
"Talk about whom, Harry? Ron? Ron Weasley?"
"Yes, Ron! Why should I even be surprised that you aren't as upset? You didn't care about him like I did! YOU DIDN'T WATCH HIM DIE!"
"Harry, I-" she started, taken aback by his outburst.
"NO! I'm happy that you were able to replace him so fast, but I can't! Oh, you think you found a great replacement too, don't you? HE WAS OUR STRATEGIST! NOT FUCKING MALFOY! DRACO WILL NEVER BE AS GOOD AS HIM! HE'LL NEVER BE RON! WHAT, YOU THINK THAT DRACO IS SO MUCH BETTER, AND THAT'S WHY RON DIED? LIKE RON WAS SO HORRIBLE AT STRATEGY?" Harry screamed at her, now worked into a rage. "AND I KNOW THIS MEANS SHIT TO YOU, BECAUSE HE WASN'T YOUR BEST FRIEND!"
"YES HE WAS! YOU BOTH WERE! YOU STILL ARE!" Hermione said defensively.
"THAT'S BULLSHIT AND YOU KNOW IT! YOU WERE NEVER ONE OF US! YOU WERE ALWAYS THE THIRD WHEEL! RON WAS MY BACKUP UNTIL THE MINUTE HE DIED! WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?"
"HOW DARE YOU! WHERE WAS I? I WAS FIGHTING TO GET TO YOU! THERE HAPPEN TO BE QUITE A FEW DEATH EATERS AROUND, IF YOU HADN'T NOTICED!"she screamed.
"YEAH, AND HE WAS ABLE TO FIGHT THROUGH!"
"NOT UNTIL THE END!"
"DRACO WILL NEVER BE PART OF US!"
"I'M NOT TRYING TO MAKE HIM INTO RON! I'M TRYING TO LET HIM BE HIS OWN PERSON! HE'S MY FRIEND NOW TOO! I LOVE RON, AND IF HE WERE HERE I'D STILL BE DEFENDING DRACO!"
"WELL HE'S NOT HERE, THANKS TO ME!"
Hermione was brought up short by that, and stared at Harry. He was breathing hard, his face was red, and there were tear tracks coming from his green eyes.
"Harry, what do you mean? It wasn't your fault. You can't blame yourself for his death," Hermione said.
"Don't lie to me, Hermione. I know the truth. I killed him. I killed Ron. You think I don't know what you think of me because of it? You think I don't know that Molly and Ginny and the rest of the Weasley family hate me, and are too revolted to even look at me? Charlie's a teacher here now and he won't look at me! YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW IT'S MY FAULT? YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT I CAUSED THE WAR? THAT I WAS THE REASON THAT HAGRID AND ARTHUR AND PERCY…KINGSLEY…THE CREEVEYS..." Harry started choking up. "Viktor. Hannah. Cho. RON. So many more. It was ME. I SHOULD'VE BEEN THE ONE TO DIE! NOT RON!"
"Harry, come here," Hermione said, walking towards him.
"NO, Hermione. I'm the reason that Ron is dead. I'm the reason that Ginny doesn't eat or sleep. It's because of me that families were broken up."
"No, Harry. It was because of Voldemort that they were broken! Not you!"
"How long can I ride the 'Voldemort did it' train, Hermione? It's my fault. I told him to back away; I swear. I told Ron I had it by myself. He never listened to a word anyone said, ever," Harry said. Hermione just watched him, tears streaming down her face.
"I told him I could handle it; I told him to help protect you. He told me to bugger off. The whole time, we're both firing off curses, arguing. Voldemort heard us of course," Harry said, staring off. "I see it every night, Hermione. You don't. I see the whole scene replay in my head. Voldemort smiled, and turned his wand to Ron. He didn't even have a chance. He couldn't see; the smoke and dust didn't affect my eyes as much because of my glasses. I should've cast the impervious on him."
Harry started crying with renewed force. "Oh god, Hermione! I saw him do it! The spell hit him right in his face! I don't know what happened to me after that, but I know something snapped inside. I don't know what spells I was throwing, but they were all coming out stronger. I remember it feeling like every spell was being squeezed through my wand, like they were too big. It was the first time I used the Avada Kedavra, and I felt nothing. NOTHING! No remorse, or revulsion. It felt the strongest, though. I hit him directly in the face; twice. The first time, he screamed. The second time, he didn't."
"Harry…" Hermione said soothingly, walking towards him again.
"I felt it when he died, Hermione," Harry whispered. "Voldemort. I don't have the constant headache anymore; I felt it snap the moment the spell hit him the second time. I fired off two consecutive Avada's within a few moments of one another, and I felt nothing of it. And you know what, Hermione? I still feel nothing of it. I'm a horrible person Hermione."
"No, Harry, no; you're not. Listen to me: Voldemort deserved it. And no one is revolted by you! Don't think that!"
"But Ginny-" he started.
"Ginny's in mourning, Harry! The whole family is! I bet if you tried to talk to Charlie, you'd see that he's not avoiding you. He's worried about Molly and Ginny too. Maybe one day you'll get to the point where you're able to talk to Ginny about Ron; I think she needs it. They were your family, too, Harry; they would never hate you."
Harry stood there for a second staring past her, and then startled her by throwing himself on her in a huge hug. She felt his whole body shake as he cried into her shoulder.
"I miss him so much, Hermione. So effing much. He was my first friend; we did everything together. I miss him so bad," he sobbed in a muffled voice.
Tears still streaming silently down her face, Hermione rubbed his back and just murmured, "Me too, Harry. Me too."
They stood that way for a good 10 minutes before Harry finally straightened up and cleared his throat. When he tried talking, his voice was croaky.
"I'll uh, try to be nicer to Malfoy. It might take some time, though," he told her.
"That's fine, as long as you try. You know, he never wanted to take Ron's place; he told me that the other night. He said he felt bad about the whispers around the school that he joined the 'trio'. Oh, and he really hates being called Malfoy. Just a heads-up," she said.
"I'll see you at dinner, Hermione. And thanks."
"Anytime, Harry, you know that. Are you going to be ok being by yourself right now?"
"I can't promise I'll be ok, but I won't be alone; I'm going to find Ginny. It's time we had a talk," he said to her. With that, he gave her one last hug and walked out the door.