Hermione Granger and the Beginning of the End

Are you looking for answers to questions under the stars?
If along the way you are growing weary

You can rest with me until a brighter day
It's okay

I am no superman
I have no answers for you
I am no hero, oh that's for sure
But I do know one thing that's for sure

Is where you are is where I belong

I do know where you go

Is where I want to be

"Where Are You Going"--Dave Matthews Band

**

"Hermione?"

"Hmmm?" Hermione grunted sleepily, wrinkling her nose in annoyance when she felt someone tickle it. "Stop," she whined as she tried to roll over and drift back to sleep. She was having a perfectly lovely dream for once, that involved her, Ron, the top of the Astronomy Tower, and a variation of wizard's chess that Ginny Weasley had once told her about. It wasn't often that she had dreams like this, and although she'd never ever admit it to anyone, she rather fancied them.

"Come on, love, wake up," the relentless intruder urged. She felt the mattress creak as he hopped up onto the bed and continued to shake her lightly.

It was the word love that caught Hermione's attention, and she rolled toward the intruder with wide and anything but weary eyes. "Ron! You're back!" she cried as she abruptly scrambled up into a sitting position, kicking away her comforter and throwing her arms around his neck. He fell back against her headboard from the momentum caused by the small form hurtling at him, but neither of them really cared. "How are you? Is everything okay--oh, it's so good to see you!"

Ron's laughter reverberated throughout his chest, drumming pleasantly against her ear as she buried her face into him, breathing him in. Even in a crisis, Ron was just so full of life that Hermione couldn't help but try to soak in every bit of his brilliance. "Maybe I should go away more often," he joked.

Hermione pulled back and gave him a stern look. "Not funny," she scolded.

Ron pushed himself up higher so that his back was against the headboard. He swung his legs up onto the bed and crossed his arms. He gave her one of those rakish grins of his and lowered his voice in an impersonation of Gilderoy Lockhart, which he often did to irritate her. "It was a little funny."

She was about to shoot out a clever retort, but her attention was diverted by the sight of his hair. It was plastered to his head, and his clothes were soaking wet. She had been so excited to see him that she hadn't even noticed the water that had seeped through her nightdress when she grabbed him. "Why are you wet?" she asked as she pushed back a ginger swatch of hair that had been lying limp across his forehead.

"In case you didn't notice," Ron pointed toward the window, "it's raining."

Hermione twisted around, noticing for the first time the biting rain that was lashing against the windowpane. A heavy spring storm had sprung up sometime after Hermione had fallen asleep. His broom was neatly propped up against her window seat, a small puddle steadily growing around the cluster of straw. "You flew through that storm to see me?"

"Well, yeah," Ron answered as if it were perfectly natural to risk gusting winds, pouring rain, and intense lightning in order to see her. "You said you wanted me to come see you when I got back."

Hermione smiled somewhat shyly. She didn't know why it still made her stomach squirm pleasantly with a hormone-instigated heat whenever he did things like that. He always did--honestly, she shouldn't expect any less from someone as wonderful as Ron was, however, it still blew her away every time. She pulled out her wand and flicked her wrist in the proper way so that hot air steamed out of the tip and helped to dry his hair. "You shouldn't have done that," she said quietly, knowing that she was sounding like Mrs. Weasley, but not being able to stop herself. "It's dangerous to fly in this sort of weather--not to mention that you're probably going to catch a cold."

Ron watched her seriously for a moment before that smirk of his returned. "Hey," he said with a casual shrug. "It was nothing--just thought you might like to have your hero risk life and limb to see the fair maiden in her tower." The smile grew wider. "I am your hero, aren't I?"

"No," Hermione lied with a defiant raise of her chin and a cheeky smile, "you're my prat--I don't need a hero to save me, thanks very much."

"No, you don't," Ron conceded. His tone was still light, but Hermione couldn't help wondering if her words had unintentionally hurt him. She knew how sensitive Ron's pride was.

"You know I'm lying of course," she said softly. Ron looked dead into her eyes and the flickering light from her bedside candle illuminated the fire and passion his own. She allowed him to read into her very soul for a few moments before voicing the words aloud. "You've always been my hero, Ron."

Ron's eyes never flickered from hers, and she began to feel that nervous thrill creeping up and down her spine that she always got when she was alone with him. "How," he wondered quietly almost to himself, "did I ever live without this?" His fingertips were running up and down the back of her hand. Hermione smiled softly, but Ron didn't return the smile. "I mean, bloody hell, Hermione, it's you. I've only been bloody mad about you since the dawn of civilization, and I ruddy went and threw it all away." He paused to let loose a sigh of frustration, and something made Hermione hold her tongue and just let him talk. She had a feeling that he'd been wanting to tell her this for a while. "And even when they were telling me what they were going to do, over and over and over again, I knew they were wrong. But, I--I just couldn't take that chance, you know?"

"Ron," Hermione's brow had creased with concern. "I know all of this. You don't need to justify yourself anymore. It's behind us--it's over." Ron didn't appear to be convinced in the slightest, but Hermione could sense that he didn't want to talk about it any longer, so she swiftly changed the subject. "You should really get out of those clothes." Ron's expression immediately became infinitely amused as he raised his eyebrows at her as if to mimic her indignant 'Excuse me?' "I mean, you should really get warmed up. You must be freezing in those wet clothes," Hermione stuttered slightly, a vivid blush lighting up her cheeks. She honestly didn't want Ron to catch cold, but at the same time there was a curious longing to explore Ron in an entirely new way. She just didn't want to voice that thought aloud just yet.

To avoid the conversation, she started to slide off of her bed, but Ron only had to brush his fingers atop hers, and she came to a halt. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"To light a fire," Hermione informed him matter-of-factly. "You need to get warm. I don't have a fireplace in here, but perhaps we could go down to the common room--no one will be there--"

Ron scooted forward on the bed so that they were on the same level, and the words died on her lips when he brushed a few locks of hair out of her eyes. Before she knew it, she was reveling in the sweet, yet toe-curling sensation of his lips teasing hers. She couldn't stop a small sigh from escaping the back of her throat--Ron Weasley certainly had a lit a fire, all right.

She allowed herself to fall into him for several long, mind-reeling minutes before somehow managing to pull away and return to business. "Per--perhaps we should go down to the common room." Hermione's voice was only a ghost of its former strong self. She never could seem to function properly when he was smiling at her like that.

"Yeah," Ron agreed hoarsely, although Hermione could sense that like her, he was incredibly tempted pick up right where they had left off. Hermione slid away from him, and he immediately tried to pull her back toward him. "Wait, I didn't think you were serious," he moaned.

She shook her head, smiled, and hopped off the bed with a willpower that she didn't realize she possessed. "Come on," Hermione wheedled as she tied her dressing gown around her waist. "I have loads to tell you, and I'm sure you have loads to tell me."

"Yeah," Ron's voice became decidedly deflated, and as he sat up, there was that 'lost little boy' look in his eyes that always made her heart wrench.

Hermione looked about the room for inspiration. She wanted to make him feel a little better, even for a moment, and her eyes finally rested on his broom. Her lips twitched slightly--she loved that she knew this boy so well. "You know you'll have to fly down the stairs," she told him. "You can't walk on them, and I don't feel up to Levitating you again."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Flying inside?" His lips curled upward in mischievous delight. "Wicked!"

**

He was still laughing five minutes later. He had insisted that she ride along to avoid getting knocked off of the stairs, and she had stupidly agreed. Luckily, she had exercised enough willpower not to scream as they twisted down the staircase, and had kept her eyes squeezed shut so that she wouldn't see the stone walls whizzing past her at a horrendously terrifying speed. Ron had had the time of his life and found her fright to be quite amusing because he felt that she was perfectly safe. Hermione knew that Ron was an excellent flier and would never do anything to endanger her life, but he had just flown so fast. She stared into the fire with folded arms and an indignant expression, although she was tempted to start giggling. Ron's laughter was rather contagious. His laugher finally abated and he pulled out his wand and muttered a spell. Hermione dropped the infuriated act as she turned curiously, just in time to see that he had Summoned a book from his dormitory. He held it out to her with an unusual expression on his face.

"You left this in the hospital wing," Ron explained as Hermione recognized the N.E.W.T. preparation book she had brought to read while visiting Percy. Somewhat guiltily, she took the book from him, wondering if he would be angry at her. "I had to tell them it was mine--Mum about threw a parade when she thought I was actually studying for those exams."

"Your mum?" Hermione repeated with a frown. "Your mum is here?" Ron nodded and something flickered in his eyes that made her straighten up with concern. "Ron, what's going on?"

He dropped down on the sofa next to her and she turned to face him, arms wrapped around her knees and her back against the arm of the sofa. "Bill's going to be okay." Ron started with the good news first. "He'll be laid up for a couple weeks, but he's going to pull through." Immensely relieved, Hermione shifted her position in order to throw her arms around him. She couldn't bear the thought of Ron losing a member of his family, and she was so relieved that, for the moment, everything was all right. However, there was something about the way Ron clung to her that made her think that another upsetting issue had cropped up.

"You shouldn't have gone to see Percy on your own," Ron said abruptly as he wrapped some of her curls around his fingers and kept her pressed close to him.

Hermione pulled back to look into his face. There was something more in his voice than the infinite concern he always had for her safety. She gripped the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders as she studied him. Fear started to creep into her eyes as she was hit with a sudden realization of what must have happened. "Did they come after you?" she whispered.

Ron continued to rove his hands through her hair for several long moments before nodding his head. Hermione's heart sank and jumped at the same time, leaving her with a rather sick feeling in her stomach. She most likely would have had a full-out panic attack if he hadn't been sitting right there in front of her looking perfectly unharmed. "What happened?" she asked in a rather calm voice. She didn't want Ron to see how upset she was.

"They want something from us," Ron told her. "There's something they want to know." He swallowed hard as he tried to settle himself by playing with her hair once again. "They got Kingsley distracted and jumped me from behind. Tried to force some truth serum or something down my throat." Hermione's stomach clenched and she sank deeper into the sofa so that the warmth of his body sunk deeper into her skin. To her surprise, a small grin spread across his face. "But I did get to hit Pettigrew right in the face."

"Pettigrew!" Hermione gasped. They hadn't heard a thing about what Peter Pettigrew had been up to ever since he had escaped from their clutches that night in sixth-year. But it made sense that they'd send the one Death Eater who could turn into a rat and easily scamper around unnoticed in a place like St. Mungo's. She couldn't stop herself from looking him up and down, although she knew very well that he was perfectly all right. Her eyes went to his right fist and she flinched slightly when she saw his cut knuckles. "Ron," she said under her breath as she gently took the hurt hand in hers to inspect it. She should have been there to help, should have insisted that she come along to St. Mungo's, and she should have--Hermione stiffened--she should have known that he was in trouble. Why didn't she know?

Ron sensed her abrupt realization and quickly spoke up in the low, soothing voice that Hermione knew he only used with her. "You couldn't have known." He shrugged casually, but Hermione knew that he was somewhat disappointed that their empathic connection had been absent for the past two days. "We were hundreds of miles away and with the scars gone, we can't really expect it to work that well anymore."

"But I want it to," Hermione protested before she could stop herself.

"I do too," Ron agreed heavily. Somehow the world always felt a bit warmer and safer when his mind was touched with Hermione's. "He got away," he added reluctantly. "So we don't know what he wanted, but since Percy was sent here for you--"

"Percy wasn't sent here for me," Hermione interrupted. "He came for Luna."

"No, he didn't," Ron argued. "He told us; he had a bottle of truth serum in his pocket--"

"Well, he told me--" Hermione broke off and stared at him in shock. "When did you talk to him?"

Ron just gaped back. "When did you talk to him?"

"He woke up when I was in there and he told me; he had a picture of Luna in his pocket. He said that she was talking to Harry too much and needed to be shut up," Hermione conveyed rapidly. "Now when did you talk to him?"

"Dumbledore sent us an owl to tell us that Percy was in the hospital wing here," Ron explained just as quickly and tersely as she had a moment ago. "Mum wanted to me see him and Ginny and I wanted to get back, so we Flooed to Hogsmeade. Percy was awake and Mum knew that he needed to be questioned, so we got Dumbledore and gave him Veritaserum." Hermione straightened up with huge, wide eyes. Ron must have finally discovered the truth about whether his brother was under the Imperius curse. He didn't satisfy her curiosity, however. "Did he try anything? He seems to keep lapsing in and out of the Imperius curse."

"He tried to grab my wand, but I got away," Hermione relayed swiftly, waving one of her hands distractedly in the air. That incident wasn't really important. "So he is under the curse?"

Ron stared down Hermione's fingers, which were still resting lightly atop his cut knuckles. "He was," he replied slowly. "But not at first. He was still furious at all of us right after Fudge was ousted and didn't want to have to come back to us, so when they came to him, he didn't put up a fight. When he came to see me that time in sixth-year, he was acting of his own free will."

Cold fury flowed freely through Hermione's veins. Percy had played a pivotal role in getting Ron kidnapped. He had allowed for his own brother to fall into the Death Eater's clutches. It wasn't the original intent of the plan, but it had ended up being the primary consequence of that awful attack on Hogsmeade. His kidnapping had led to their awful break up, and Percy had done it all on his own. Percy had manipulated, hurt, and almost killed his brother willingly. This sort of treachery had to be the worst type of betrayal, and Hermione could only think to compare it to how she would feel if her parents, Ron, or Harry betrayed her. She couldn't even conceive of that ever happening.

"He didn't realize what would happen," Ron was now saying. "He started to feel guilty when I--you know, but he kept going. He's as stubborn as all of us, so he kept it up quite a bit. They never had him do anything really important or dangerous, so he didn't start feeling really bad until Riddle came back and hurt Ginny. You were right--he really was helping us get to the Malfoys." He paused to flip his hand over and wrap his fingers in hers. "And when they found out we broke in, they put two and two together and blamed Percy."

"That's when they put him under the Imperius curse?" Hermione asked in surprise. "But that was only two months ago. He wouldn't have started to show these sorts of symptoms yet."

Ron smiled ruefully. "We Weasleys have a strong will," he explained. "Apparently, they said that with him they had to administer the curse twice as much as usual." Hermione winced slightly. If Percy had had to endure the Imperius curse multiple times a day for over two months, it was no wonder that he had been driven mad. "I must not be as strong-willed," Ron added as he abruptly remembered fourth-year DADA class.

"Ron, you were a fourth-year student who didn't know half of what you know now," Hermione reminded him. Her tone grew a bit wistful as she remembered simpler times and happier days, and she absently smoothed back some of Ron's freshly dried hair. "You're a man now. I think it would be a tad more difficult to subdue you."

"Yeah, well," Ron shrugged slightly. "Anyhow, he was sent here to get you to tell him about us."

"About us?" Hermione repeated.

"If we were back together," Ron clarified, his voice tight with tension. He brought the hand that wasn't clutching hers to rest on her leg, rubbing it up and down a few inches as if to reassure himself that she really was still sitting before him. "Apparently that kiss in the Great Hall caught Malfoy's attention, and he went and wrote to Daddy about it."

Hermione's lips pursed in a small 'o' of surprise as she looked down at her lap, her heart hammering. Lucius Malfoy was going through an awful lot of trouble to carry out whatever he had planned for her, and Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to know just what he had in mind. It would undoubtedly be horrendous.

Ron brought his hand up to tilt her chin back up toward him, eyes shining with fierce determination. "He's not going to get you," he vowed. "Not while I'm around. You know that."

And she did know it. She knew that Ron would fight for her like no other person ever would, and that there were several other people she held dear that would fight for her as well. She also knew that she was an extremely competent and capable witch who could take care of herself, but it just didn't stop her from being scared to death at the thought that someone out there wanted to have her in his slimy grasp.

Then, there was also the other extremely disturbing fact she'd learned from Percy earlier tonight. She swallowed hard. "Ron, they want you too." She flinched at the shocked fear that radiated out from him. "Percy told me--I thought that was why he came at first, before he told me about Luna. He-he didn't mention anything about that?"

"No," Ron said in a low voice. "No, but we didn't ask--we just asked if he had come to Hogwarts to talk to you."

Hermione bit her lip with disappointment. She would have to get someone to question Percy about what the devil they wanted with Ron as soon as humanly possible. Part of her was tempted to charge out of the common room right now, but there was someone much more important to tend to right now. She moved her hand to his face and turn his eyes to hers. "He's not going to get you," she repeated meaningfully with all the passion and ferocity that she had. "Not as long as I'm around."

Somehow, words just didn't seem to be enough to convince him, so Hermione decided to pull a Ron Weasley on him and let her actions speak for themselves. She brought her other hand up to the other side of his face and poured all of herself into him through the sheer touch of their lips, sealing the pledge she had just made to him. Ron instantly reciprocated with the unbridled passion and fire that only a Weasley could possess, and as always, she gasped at the intensity of his emotions. She knew every inch of Ron Weasley, and yet he never ceased to amaze her. He was going through so much right now--they all were. However, she knew that all he wanted to do right now was forget about the hell he had seen over the past day and lose himself in the one person he didn't mind falling completely into with no bounds, no restrictions, and no end so he could just be. To her infinite delight, he never felt more alive as he did when he was with her.

Although some may not deem it to be logical, Hermione didn't mind it a bit. He had been gone for two days, and she had missed him so much. She was so terrified of their fates and the fates of everyone they loved, and it was so overwhelming, that drowning herself in Ron's arms despite all the battles they needed to fight and all the tests they needed to take seemed to be the best idea in the world.

She let herself go and just sank into him, kissing him as though it were the last night of the world and swimming through his infinite strength, devotion, and the million of other things she valued, respected, and flat out loved about him. She had no idea where her hands roved, where her lips touched, where his fingers grazed her. All she knew was that there was a blazing, white-hot fire burning away inside of her, and she was perfectly willing to allow the flames to consume her whole. She was spinning in the dizzying ecstasy of his very soul, and she didn't ever, ever want it to stop.

But it did stop. Her N.E.W.T. book clattered off of the sofa and fell loudly to the floor, effectively jerking both Ron and Hermione out of the fire and back into the cold harshness of reality. They simply stared at each other for a long moment, shoulders heaving, eyes shining, and hearts thudding as one. She was starting to realize just how compromising of a position they were in. Her legs were wrapped warmly around his waist, one of her hands tight in a fist around his open collar with the other hand propped up behind her back on the cushion. Ron had both his hands on the small of her back to steady her and to feel her skin through the thin cotton of her nightgown which was hitched up to almost her hips. She was showing off more of her legs than she ever had to anyone in her entire life. Somehow, her dressing gown had ended up in a heap on the floor, and she was embarrassed to admit that she must have done her own share of undressing, as Ron's shirt was not entirely buttoned, or on.

And then there was the reason why the book had fallen off of the sofa cushion--she had grabbed his collar and put her hand behind her back to guide him down onto the sofa. Her hand had slid on the cushion and accidentally knocked into the spine of the book. If that book hadn't been there, she most likely would have fallen completely backward with her legs still hooked around him and her back arched to cause as much of her to touch him as was physically possible. She would have continued to kiss him until she didn't have any breath left, and then things would have gotten very blurry and hazy. But at the same time, she would have always remembered and treasured every single sensation of the most pleasurable experience of her life.

The hand that was supporting her weight was starting to cramp, so she shifted it to ease the pins and needles. Ron, sensing her discomfort, lifted her easily back onto his lap so that she was facing him. An unintentional soft sound escaped out of her. All she wanted to do was fall back into the fire that always ignited whenever they touched, so that it could burn away all of their pain, but the shred of self-control that she had left held her back. From the way that every iota of her being was tingling in a very, very pleasurable way, and because even her brilliantly logical mind was screaming out for Ron to touch her in a way he never had before, Hermione knew very well that they had been very, very close to something that would have changed everything, if only that book hadn't fallen back when it did.

Did she want it to happen? They had never discussed taking their relationship to that level, and Hermione had never really considered it to be an option. It wasn't as though their relationship was based on that sort of attraction and lust, but she couldn't deny that there certainly was an attraction, and she certainly was an eighteen-year-old girl who came fully equipped with hormones. Hermione's lips felt slightly bruised, but as she stared at Ron, she knew in all honesty that she wanted nothing more than for his lips to seize hers in the bone-crushing passion that he approached everything with that he truly cared for in life. Oh, yes, she wanted it to happen, she knew that now. In reality, she had known it deep down inside of her every time she looked deep into his eyes, or whenever he did anything in the slightest to please her or take care of her, but this time it was different. Now she consciously knew that she wanted it to happen, just like she abruptly realized that she actually wanted to marry and start a family with the prat when Viktor had arrived a few weeks earlier.

But just like she wasn't ready to be married just yet, it wasn't time for this, she decided, not today. For one thing, they had really only been back together for a little over two weeks now, and that would be moving way too quickly for Hermione's taste. Besides, when it did happen, she wanted it to be utterly perfect, and not because they were both upset about the events of the past few days and had just found out that their lives were in danger again. When she gave herself completely to Ron, she wanted her mind to be on that glorious moment and that alone. If it had happened tonight, she knew that afterward she would have started thinking about all of the awful things they had just discussed. It would have been magnificent, yes, and she wouldn't have regretted it for a second, but it would have been tainted. Hermione wanted more than anything for that life-changing moment to be utterly, completely, and totally perfect. She didn't know when it would come; she had always rather fancied the idea of waiting until marriage, but she also knew what kind of person she had become, and if that perfect moment came before marriage, she'd give in to it.

She let out a little sigh and dropped her eyes away from him. She hoped he didn't think she was a tease or that she was leading him on in any way. In one of Viktor's rare moments of anger he had accused her of that. He had taken it back immediately when he saw her face, and she honestly knew that he didn't mean it, but she had never forgotten it. And of course Viktor didn't mean that she was teasing him toward that because that with Viktor had never been an option. But Ron might have misinterpreted her intentions, because until a moment ago, she had been uncertain of them herself. It wasn't as though she was denying him the opportunity altogether, as he might be thinking, because it was certainly a very viable option--it just was not an option today.

"Hey," Ron's voice had taken on that husky, low, reassuring tone that would have made her feel safe and loved even if Voldemort himself had his arm wrapped around her. "Don't." His hands were in her hair again. "Don't think that--" He broke off and his Adam's apple bobbed while he tangled his curls around his fingers and stared into her eyes with the utmost sincerity. "You know I'd wait forever," he said quietly.

The words themselves weren't completely reassuring, but his tone of voice and his eyes said more than any words ever could. As always, the sight of those eyes that radiated forth all of his emotion were enough to prevent the loquacious Hermione Granger from producing coherent speech. There were so many things that she wanted to say in response, but all Hermione could do was wrap both of her arms around his neck and bury her face further into his shoulder as a silent thank you. Much to her comfort, they remained like that for a long moment. She felt the muscles in his shoulder move as he craned his neck. "Hey," he observed, "the sun's coming up." Hermione lifted her head to see the view for herself. "Want to go up to the Astronomy Tower and watch?" he suggested.

Hermione nodded, but before she swung herself off of him to retrieve her dressing gown, she lingered, her hand brushing down to press against his chest. He had yet to button his shirt, and for a moment, she marveled at the skin beneath her fingertips that she had never consciously touched. Her other hand remained on his shoulder, and with a bravery she didn't know she had, she let Ron read her thoughts. From the bottom of her heart, she promised him that although today wasn't that magical day, it would be someday. She caught the tumble of emotions Ron underwent at that vow, but he held her gaze. At that moment, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger promised themselves to each other.

**

Hermione leaned her head back against Ron's shoulder and pulled his arms tighter around her. "This was a great idea."

"Yeah, well, I get them every so often," Ron replied wryly.

Hermione grinned as they lapsed into comfortable silence. They finished watching the morning sunlight illuminate the drops of dew on the grass and the small waves lapping on the edge of the lake. She never felt this relaxed and content anymore, and it was infinitely refreshing after all that had happened. Somehow, things just felt easier now that she and Ron were up here alone watching the sun dawn on a new day. They were in love and on top of the world, and with the light of a brand new day that offered brand new opportunities, hopes, and chances to make things right in a world that had gone horribly wrong, anything was possible now. She sighed contentedly before busying herself with forming a list in her head of everything they needed to do.

"We have to talk to Percy again," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," Ron agreed with little enthusiasm.

"And we have to talk to Harry," Hermione added. It somehow seemed wrong that Harry was completely oblivious to all that had happened during the night.

"Sure."

"And I have all of your homework from the classes you missed--do you have to go back to the hospi--"

"Hermione," Ron interrupted as he squeezed her a little closer to him. "Shut up and watch."

Hermione smiled slightly and relaxed even further into him. With pleasure, she thought with relish. There was nothing she'd rather do than just treasure the experience of watching something as beautiful as a sunrise with a person as special as Ron Weasley.

But the moment didn't last.

It all happened so quickly that later Hermione had trouble recalling just what had occurred. She didn't remember how she suddenly realized that they weren't alone, or that she'd turned around to confront the intruder. It seemed that one minute she was wrapped up in Ron's arms watching the sunrise, and the next moment Ron was stepping out in front of her, holding out an arm to keep her behind him. His wand was out and ready, and Hermione quickly moved to retrieve hers.

"Percy, you need to get back downstairs," Ron was saying. "You're sick--you need to take it easy."

Percy was dead pale again and looked as though he'd been crying. He gulped as if he were nauseated and stared at his brother pleadingly. "Ginny just came to see me."

Ron's forehead burrowed with confusion. "Erm, okay...." he said tentatively, not very sure just what to say to that.

"She forgave me," Percy sniffed and he heaved as though he were about to throw up. "She hugged me and said that she knew it had to be hard on me, and she was sorry I felt left out, and although she didn't understand what I did, she forgave me for it--a-and she wanted her brother back." Hermione smiled slightly at her friend's kindness. Ginny Weasley may act feisty and confident, but underneath it all she really was the most sensitive and considerate girl that she had ever met. She had known exactly what her brother had needed to hear. "She said it was never too late to redeem myself," Percy added in almost a whisper.

"Perce," Ron said slowly as he took a hesitant step forward. "How did you get out of the infirmary?"

Percy didn't even try to pretend that he was interested in answering Ron's question. It appeared that he had stopped blinking altogether, and his unwavering gaze was starting to unnerve Hermione. "What about you, Ron? Do you forgive me?"

Ron inhaled sharply. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. Hermione bit her lip as they waited for him to answer. Ron was justifiably furious at Percy for helping engineer the kidnapping that had instigated a whirlwind of detrimental effects, but he also knew very well that Percy had just suffered a great deal over the past few months. Repeated use of the Imperius curse was almost as horrific as the effects of the Cruciatus curse--even worse in some ways, since it was mental torture instead of physical. Percy was his brother, and blood and love were thicker than grudges and vengeance.

"Perce," Ron finally got out. "Because of you, loads of things got completely mucked up, and I'm still mad at you for it, so I reckon that I don't forgive you just yet." Percy's face crumbled and Ron hastily continued. "But that doesn't mean I won't." He smiled crookedly. "I'm not as nice as Ginny, you know that, so I can't get over what you put us all through, but hell--you're my brother, Perce and you always will be." He lowered his wand slightly. "That's all that matters in the end, Percy."

If Percy hadn't been there, Hermione surely would have thrown her arms around him. She knew how difficult it had to be for Ron to swallow his pride and anger and admit how he really felt. Percy's Adam's apple bobbed as he nodded, face contorted as though he were about to start blubbering. Ron took another awkward step forward, still maintaining a safe distance from his brother. "Perce, how did you get out?" he repeated.

"They want you too, you know," Percy said hoarsely. "It's not just her and Potter they're after--it's you, too, and if they get to you, it'll be over for all of us."

A noticeable ripple of fear flashed across Ron's face, so Hermione spoke up for him. "Why do they want him?" she demanded forcefully as she stepped closer to Percy.

Percy's eyes darted over to her and then back to Ron. "They wanted to know if you two were back on. That's why I came."

"I know it was," Ron said suspiciously, hoping that Percy would elaborate further.

"They wanted to know if it was back." Percy pointed somewhat wildly to his head, then to Ron's, and finally to Hermione's. Hermione stiffened when she realized what he was insinuating--the empathic connection. "And since they didn't get you," he said to Ron, "I'm the only one who knows." He recoiled as a cloud of fear darkened his eyes. "And when they know that I know--because they always seem to know when you know something--they'll come after me." He licked his bone-dry lips. "And they'll get it out of me."

"No, they won't," Ron said firmly. "Now, why don't you get back to bed--"

"Yes, they will!" Percy snapped furiously. "I'm weak, Ron! I've always been the weak Weasley! And when they've been in your head and can see everything and know just what to say to push your buttons and get you talking--it--it'll be all over." Percy paused in dazed comprehension. "That'll be the beginning of the end. And it won't be a good end." His eyes locked with Ron's. "It'll be a horrible end."

"Perce," Ron was more than a little rattled by his brother's discomposure, and he started to stride forward to steer his brother forcefully out of the room. "Come on--"

"It's never too late to be redeemed," Percy insisted in the same delirious voice Hermione had heard him use earlier that night. He was shivering noticeably and appeared seconds away from collapsing. "I can make it right--I can fix this." His eyes flickered over to Hermione, bright with feverish insanity. "Penny, I'm sorry I pushed you away--you were the last person I ever wanted to leave me." Ron stiffened in puzzlement when Percy called her Penny, but Percy didn't wait for Hermione to respond, instead focusing again on Ron. "I'm sorry you got hurt, because that's not what was supposed to happen. I was so scared when I heard they had you, Ron, and I'm sorry that I told you to stay away from Potter, because I really do like him. I'm sorry I scared Hermione, because I know how much you like her--and tell everyone I'm sorry for everything that's happened over the past three years." A smile flickered across his face--a sight Hermione hadn't seen in many years. "And tell mum I missed her Christmas jumpers."

Because he was an empath, Ron realized what Percy was planning to do seconds before Hermione did. "Percy!" Ron barked forcefully. But Percy was already sprinting over to the side of the roof and climbing up onto the ledge. He teetered on the edge and thought about turning back as a wave of vertigo washed over him, but he decided for once that he was going to prove that he was a Gryffindor and face his fate.

"NO!" Hermione shrieked. Ron was already running to the ledge, his wand falling with a clatter to the rooftop as he dove to grab his brother before it was too late. Hermione raced over to help, wand in hand, as she thought as fast as she could. "Percy, please don't leave me!" she begged in Penny's inflection, but Percy was too far gone. He kicked Ron away, sending his brother sprawling down to the rooftop. He spread his arms wide, feeling the morning air on his face for the last time.

"It's never too late to be redeemed," he repeated one last time. He smiled back at his brother, looking more sane than he had in a great while, and plummeted to his vindication.