Hermione Granger and the Half-Blood Prince

I am patiently waiting here to see

Which of us survives

When all of this collides with reality...

"Never There" Strata

**

"Her name was Eileen Prince. Prince, Harry."

They looked at each other for a long moment in which Hermione held her breath and prayed that he understood what she was trying to tell him.

And of course, being a stupid boy, Harry burst out into laughter. "No way."

"What?"

"You think she was the Half-Blood...? Oh, come on."

For the first time in her life, Hermione considered just for a second slapping some sense in Harry. That would make him think twice about laughing at her theories, especially when she had spent weeks and weeks trying to piece this together. Numerous hours had been devoted to trying to help him see that the Prince person may not be the most reliable role model and all he could do was laugh?

Impatiently, Hermione forced herself to remain calm. She had wanted to approach this rationally. After finding the article about Eileen Prince this afternoon, she had gone straight to Harry once Ginny was safely studying in the library. She didn't know how much Ginny knew about the Half-Blood Prince, Horcruxes, and other Voldemort-related matters. And now, here she was, seated between Ron and Harry, seething as the pair of idiots that were her best friends laughed at her over her head. It was ridiculous. If they were the best friends they had seemed to be last night when they had played a silly game of catch for nearly an hour, they would at least hear her out.

She waved her hand to keep Harry's attention on her. "Well, why not? Harry, there aren't any real princes in the Wizarding world! It's either a nickname, a made-up title somebody's given themselves, or it could be their actual name, couldn't it?" She could see Harry's lip twitch spastically again and she bounced in her chair with frustration. "No, listen! If, say, her father was a wizard whose surname was Prince, and her mother was a Muggle, then that would make her a 'half-blood Prince'!"

"Yeah, very ingenious, Hermione..."

"But it would! Maybe she was proud of being half a Prince!" Hermione turned to appeal to Ron who just leaned back in his chair, silently begging neutrality. Hermione gave him a fierce scowl before returning to Harry. For once in his life, she would really like it if Ron stood up for her not in front of Malfoy or Slytherins, but in front of Harry, when it mattered the most, when he knew she was right so he for once wouldn't care about offending Harry and just do the right thing.

"Listen, Hermione, I can tell it's not a girl. I can just tell," Harry said in a somewhat supercilious voice of placation.

"The truth is that you don't think a girl would have been clever enough," said Hermione angrily.

It wasn't a fair comment and she regretted it as soon as she said it. She could hear Ron exhale sharply and Harry looked clearly stung by her statement. "How can I have hung round with you for five years and not think girls are clever?" It was one of the nicest compliments he had ever given her, but Hermione was too furious to care. He may say that he thought she was so clever, but he was certainly acting like she didn't know more than Millicent Bulstrode. Harry heatedly continued on, "It's the way he writes, I just know the Prince was a bloke, I can tell. This girl hasn't got anything to do with it. Where did you get this anyway?"

"The library," said Hermione predictably. "There's a whole collection of old Prophets up there." She turned again to Ron in hopes he would speak up, but it was as though his mouth was sealed shut. Annoyed, she got to her feet. "Well, I'm going to find out more about Eileen Prince if I can."

"Enjoy yourself," said Harry irritably, the surly expression on his face reminding her painfully of fifth-year. Her heart stung at the memory. If he was going to revert to that attitude again, she wasn't sure she could bear it this time.

To avoid that possibility, Hermione hastily retreated. "I will," said Hermione. "And the first place I'll look," she shot at him, as she reached the portrait hole, "is records of old Potions awards!"

With a bang, she shoved the portrait door open and took off down the corridor, not caring that her shove had caused the Fat Lady to ram her nose against the wall. Fury propelled her to get to the library in record time and she went straight to the records of Hogwarts awards. Yanking out a large volume from fifty years ago, Hermione slammed the book on the nearest table and scooted her chair as close as she could to the table. She opened the book to a random page and concentrated so intently on the page that she thought she might be able to burn clean through the page merely with the power of her glare.

Boys.

Her blood continued to boil as she read furiously away until much to her chagrin, a large hand slapped down on the pages to successfully break her concentration. Grimly, she pursed her lips, not needing to look up. She was not ready to make up with him just yet; although he hadn't said a word to offend her; his silence had been damning enough. "Ron--"

"Harry got another note from Dumbledore."

All thoughts of Eileen Prince flew from Hermione's mind. It was remarkable how suddenly something that had infuriated her so intently had become so unimportant. Blankly, she looked up from the book, her eyes wide. "But Dumbledore said he'd only send for Harry when he found a Horcrux."

"Yeah," Ron replied impatiently. He already knew that; why else would he have run in here like a maniac? He stepped back so Hermione could rise from her seat and collect her belongings. "Jimmy just brought it. Harry went straight there."

"Do you think he'll come back before he leaves?"

"Dunno. He might." Ron was already halfway out of the library so Hermione had to jog quickly to catch up and continue their conversation.

"I hope so," Hermione breathed under her breath. It was selfish, but she really didn't want her last words to Harry before he left on such a dangerous mission to be the hot, spiteful ones she had just spat at him.

Ron didn't answer, his attention solely on getting back to the common room before Harry could return. They barged through the portrait hole and looked hastily about to find no sign of Harry. Hermione let out a little breath. She wasn't really sure what she had been expecting to find, but somehow she felt a little relieved. If Harry had already returned, that probably meant that Dumbledore did not call him to go find a Horcrux. And as much as Hermione really didn't want Harry in the line of fire, she was starting to understand that Harry had to go. He needed it. It was the only way to help heal all of the loss he already had to endure in his sixteen years. Harry was all about action; he had to do something. It was similar to how she had to do copious research sometimes to feel like she was a helpful asset to him. Harry felt the same way about the war except that instead of research, he had to put his life on the line and vanquish Lord Voldemort. Hermione fell into an empty chair with tense frustration. She really hated that Harry had to take this role. She accepted it; she understood it--but that didn't mean that she liked it.

With a reassuring plop, Ron dropped down into the chair next to her. His eyes were riveted to the portrait hole entrance. "So we're waiting then?"

"I don't see what else there is to do," Hermione returned tightly. They couldn't very well run up to Dumbledore's office and demand an explanation. And as she, Ron, Dumbledore, and Harry were the only people who knew about the Horcrux mission, they couldn't ask anyone else for information. All they could count on was Harry.

In an almost unbearably anxious silence, the pair stared for so long and so hard at the door that when Harry finally did stride purposely through the portrait hole, Hermione and Ron jumped a foot. Quite forgetting that the numerous nosy students around, she sat up a little straighter and looked straight at Harry. "What does he want?" Hermione said at once. As he came closer and she noticed his pallor, her apprehension heightened considerably. He looked as though he had seen a ghost. "Harry, are you okay?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm fine," said Harry shortly, racing past them. He dashed up the stairs, presumably up to his dormitory.

Hermione froze, taken aback by the abruptness of his arrival and departure. She knew that stride, that voice, that stony expression on his face. Dumbledore had found a Horcrux. Harry was going to get some supplies and then go off on one of, if not the, most dangerous adventure of his life. She closed her eyes momentarily. She might possibly be very sick.

"So--should we follow him?" Ron finally asked. He looked as baffled and worried as she did.

Before Hermione could answer, Harry was already back, carrying the Marauder's Map and oddly enough a pair of balled-up socks. He skidded to a halt in front of where Ron and Hermione sat. "I've got to be quick," Harry panted. "Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen..."

Harry quickly spouted off something about Trelawney, Malfoy, Snape, and Dumbledore that Hermione had a little difficulty following, but near the end of the rambling tale, it all fell together and Hermione's eyes widened. There could be serious trouble here tonight.

"...so you see what this means?" Harry finished at a gallop. "Dumbledore won't be here tonight, so Malfoy's going to have another clear shot at whatever he's up to. No, listen to me!" he hissed angrily when Hermione opened her mouth to remind him that whatever Malfoy was up to may not necessarily pertain to the Death Eaters. A glance to the left told her that Ron had also opened his mouth to say something. Almost simultaneously, they closed their mouths and let Harry finish. "I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here--" He shoved the Marauder's Map into Hermione's hand. She looked down at it, her heart started pounding so hard that she thought she may throw up. She had an awful feeling about where this was going. "You've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right?" Hermione nodded mutely. "Dumbledore says he's put extra protection in the school, but if Snape's involved, he'll know what Dumbledore's protection is, and how to avoid it--but he won't be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?"

Hermione couldn't hold back any longer. Of course, she would do whatever Harry wanted her to do, but he couldn't possibly be thinking about going after a Horcrux. Yes, Dumbledore would be with him, but Dumbledore had almost been killed when he stole the ring. Harry was an extremely talented wizard, but frankly, he didn't have any idea what he would be up against. "Harry--" she began, her eyes huge with fear.

"I haven't got time to argue," said Harry curtly. "Take this as well--"

He thrust the socks he was carrying into Ron's hands. Ron looked properly bewildered. "Thanks," said Ron. "Er--why do I need socks?"

"You need what's wrapped in them, it's the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say good-bye to her for me. I'd better go, Dumbledore's waiting--"

"No!" said Hermione, as Ron unwrapped the tiny little bottle of golden potion, looking awestruck. There was something about the way Harry told them to say good-bye to Ginny that made her blood turn to ice water. It was as though he expected never to see her again. "We don't want it, you take it, who knows what you're going to be facing?"

She reached to pluck it out of Ron's hand, but Harry was already speaking. "I'm fine, I'll be with Dumbledore. I want to know you lot are okay..." Hermione bit her quavering lip; oh, Harry... "Don't look like that, Hermione, I'll see you later..."

And he was off, hurrying back through the portrait hole and toward the entrance hall. Both she and Ron had jumped to their feet at the same time, Ron's hand outstretched as though he wanted to offer Harry his potion back. "Harry!" she called vainly after him. "Harry!"

"Hermione..." Ron warned out of the corner of his mouth, nodding to the nearly full common room, all of whom were watching them curiously. Harry's abrupt entrance and exit had attracted a great deal of attention. He had already jammed the potion safely into his pocket so nobody would ask any questions about it.

After a second's hesitation, in which Hermione fought to keep herself from panicking outright, she handed Ron the map. "I'll get my Galleon," she said vaguely as she ran towards her dormitory. She flew up the stairs, raced straight past a gossiping Lavender and Parvati who stared at her with dropped jaws, snatched the Galleon from her trunk, and made it back downstairs in record time.

Ron was hunched over the map, scanning it intently. Knowing he wouldn't look up until he had finished the task, Hermione quickly began to make the proper preparations to send the message of the Galleon. "Malfoy's nowhere on here," Ron reported finally. "Snape's in his office."

"We'll have to get somebody to go down there while we wait for Malfoy--he must still be in the Room of Requirement," Hermione said distractedly as she finished the necessary charms and pocketed her Galleon. "We should get out there."

Almost automatically, Ron reached into his left pocket and fished out the Galleon and read the message that was now inscribed on it, asking for anyone to report to the D.A. classroom immediately. Hermione wasn't distracted enough not to notice and she looked at him a little curiously. "I didn't know you still carried that around." She had given up on D.A. ages ago and the Galleon had been living in her trunk ever since. She expected most to have done the same. Which meant that there was a very slim chance that anyone would actually think to look at the gold coin. Hermione bit her lip. This may not be the best plan after all.

"Well, yeah," Ron said uncomfortably. His ears were a definite shade of hot pink. "In case something like this happened."

He was lying, but it was hardly the time of place to hound him about it. She tried to run, but Ron's hand held fast to her arm, pulling her back to him as he got to his feet. "What?"

"Hermione," Ron said in a firm, convinced, steady voice. "It's Harry. He'll be fine."

Her feet twitched, urging her to run as fast as she could, but her heart just sank with utter relief. If Ron believed it, it had to be true. Well, no, that wasn't logical, but--Hermione fidgeted as she tried to make sense of the confusing clash of emotion and reason--there was just something there in Ron's face that completely convinced her that he knew what he was saying. Besides, this was Harry they were talking about. Harry survived everything and if Dumbledore was with him, Dumbledore would do everything he could to protect him, which was certainly saying something. If you had Dumbledore on your side, you were as safe as you could possibly be.

She slid her arm free of his grasp without a word; she didn't have to. He knew how grateful she was for him. "Let's go."

**

"Harry left? Where?" Ginny Weasley demanded, sparks shooting from her eyes.

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it. Ginny had been the first D.A. member to arrive in the hallway outside the Room of Requirement and had immediately demanded an explanation. But before Hermione could give her one, Ginny had looked around in confusion and asked about Harry; she had assumed that he had called this meeting. Hesitantly, Hermione had told her and now her friend was standing there, gaping, utterly upset and bewildered, and she didn't know what exactly to tell her. Harry had told them to tell Ginny good-bye for him, but Hermione couldn't bear to do that just yet. Harry would have to come back and do that himself. But Harry hadn't said what exactly to tell Ginny about why he was leaving. Obviously, Hermione wanted to tell Ginny the truth, but Harry had told them not to tell anyone about the prophesy and the Horcruxes. However, at the same time, this was Ginny. Ginny loved Harry more than herself. Ginny wouldn't tell a soul and Ginny had every right to know about where her boyfriend was and what danger he was putting himself in.

She turned to appeal to Ron who had already made his decision on the manner. He shook his head stoutly. "We can't tell you, Gin."

Outraged, Ginny looked to Hermione who was now avoiding her eyes. Ginny's fists tightened with exasperation. "Well," she finally said testily. "Harry and I'll need to have a talk about communication."

"Ginny--"

"Will he be safe?" Ginny interrupted fiercely, indicating that she didn't want to talk about how hurt she was that Harry was keeping rather important secrets from her.

Hermione nodded. "He's with Dumbledore."

This answer abated a great deal of Ginny's distress. No harm could come to anyone when they were in the presence of Albus Dumbledore. She blew out a long breath and blinked back the upset rage so she could be her usual determined, feisty self. "So what's with the meeting?"

"We'll explain when some others get here," Hermione answered. She looked both ways down the corridor in hopes of seeing more D.A. members hurrying to their aid. They really could use all of the help they could get. "We'll have to figure out a way to split everyone up," she said absently to Ron, her eyes still riveted down the hallway.

"Yeah," Ron said distractedly. He was unusually silent even when Neville sprinted up to them, puffing and panting and demanding to know what was going on. Hermione told him the same thing as Ginny and settled back to wait again, her foot tapping impatiently. They really didn't have time to just wait for D.A. members to check their Galleons. Ten minutes later, only Luna Lovegood had shown up, serenely unconcerned and actually excited to be having another meeting. It was at this point that Ron finally spoke as he nudged Hermione. "I don't think we can wait anymore."

"Right," Hermione agreed. They would just have to make do with the people they had. Besides, Harry could be overreacting and Malfoy could just be snogging Pansy Parkinson and Snape was on their side as always and then they would just be wasting their time. But then, Hermione visualized Harry's desperate face as he gave them the lucky potion. He wouldn't have done that if he didn't think they were about to face serious danger.

Seeing that they weren't going to wait any longer, Ginny, Neville, and Luna eagerly gathered around Hermione and Ron. "What's going on?" Ginny asked again.

It took a minute for Hermione to decide how to give them enough information without revealing too much about Harry's quest for the Horcruxes. "Harry thinks that Malfoy is up to something, that he could even be a Death Eater." Luna's eyebrows arched curiously while Neville gasped openly. Ginny however remained unfazed. Harry had told her as much. Hermione gestured to the blank wall that concealed the Room of Requirement. "He's in there now--Harry overheard him and whatever is going on in there, Malfoy's pleased about it. Harry thinks that whatever Malfoy has been planning to do will happen tonight."

"Well, we can't let that happen," Ginny said grimly.

"Exactly," Hermione continued. "Harry had to go see Dumbledore, so it's up to us to make sure Malfoy doesn't get to carry out his plan. A few of us need to stay out here and wait for Malfoy to come out and stop whatever he's about to do. And the rest of us needs to go down and watch Snape's office."

Neville's forehead creased in confusion. "Why?"

Hermione hesitated. She didn't feel comfortable revealing what Harry had found out about Snape's involvement with his parents. That was rather personal and besides, it directly related to the prophesy which no one else needed to know about. She felt Ron stir uncomfortably next to her and she knew he agreed with her discretion. "I'm not exactly sure," she said honestly--she really didn't understand Harry's animosity towards Snape--personally, she was convinced that he had been a Death Eater who was atoning for his sins by devoting himself to Dumbledore. Perhaps Snape had made mistakes in the past, but that didn't mean he was still making them today. "But Harry thinks it's wise for us to watch him and Harry's never wrong about these sorts of things."

Luna and Neville looked bewildered but Ginny just nodded in agreement. She trusted Harry's judgment completely. She whipped her wand out and twisted it expertly, ready for battle. "Who's going where?"

"All right." Hermione flicked her hair out of her eyes as she considered their options. The strongest duelers needed to stay up here as this was the place where there would be the most immediate danger--Malfoy was known for cursing without thinking. And if Crabbe and Goyle were involved, there should be at least three people up here so they wouldn't be outnumbered. "Luna and--Ron!" She broke off as Ron quite abruptly grabbed her arm and dragged her off to the side. Apparently, he was going to challenge the authority she had unconsciously taken command of. "What are you doing?!"

"Oh, do I get to go with Ronald?" Luna said with delighted airiness.

Both Hermione and Ron ignored her. Ron was staring at Hermione with hard, icy determination. He had yet to remove his hands from her arms. "Hermione, you have to go with Luna."

"What?"

"You were going to send her and Neville to watch Snape, right?"

"Well, yes; we need our strongest duelers to wait for Malfoy--"

"We need brains down with Snape," Ron corrected sharply. "If we catch Malfoy, we can curse first, think later. If Snape catches us down there, we're going to have to talk our way out of it fast. That requires brains." He shrugged matter-of-factly. "That means you."

She had to admit it was a good idea. If Neville and Luna were the two down at Snape's office, they would be more apt to slip up and confess what was going on--as far as she knew, Snape was still Neville's greatest fear. But if she was down there, Hermione could always claim that she was on prefect business and think up a reason that Luna was with her.

But Hermione still shook her head. She was still far and away a better dueler than Neville and they needed the strongest up ready to pounce on Malfoy and whoever else came out of the Room of Requirement. "No, I should stay with you," she insisted.

"No." At the sound of her brother's plaintive refusal, Ginny abruptly turned and pulled Luna and Neville around to point down the hall at some object that didn't exist to give the couple a bit of privacy. Ron steered Hermione a bit farther down the hall and stared at her seriously. He wouldn't let go of her arms even if Voldemort had a wand poking into his neck. "You need to go down to Snape."

It wasn't often that Ron was so forceful and authoritarian. Hermione had to admit it gave her a bit of a thrill deep in the core of her spine to see the raw power and strength she always knew was there burning out of him for all to see. Ron was finally living up to his potential. But that didn't mean that she was going to just let him take over and tell her what to do. She shook her head once again. "No--"

"Hermione--"

"Is this about because of my Defense O.W.L.?"

Ron gaped open-mouthed for a moment, temporarily shocked speechless. How could someone be so obsessed about her marks? "Hermione, you're mad!"

"Is it?"

"No!" Hermione tried to squirm free from Ron's grip, but Ron held on fast. "It's about good strategy!" he informed her testily. They really didn't have the time to row like this.

"And since when did you become such an expert on strategy?" Hermione asked scornfully.

"Since I played chess for ten years!" Ron snapped back. "You don't send your best pieces out onto the board all at one time; you keep some back just in case! Any good chess player can tell you that, but of course I wouldn't expect you to understand that!"

"Oh, so now I'm a horrible chess player and dueler; thanks a lot, Ron!" Hermione shot furiously at him.

"No, not now--you've always been a horrible chess player!"

Hermione actually stamped her foot and let out a short groan of extreme frustration. "Why are we arguing about chess?!"

Her irate question seemed to shake Ron back into the direness of the situation. "You have to go down there!"

"Why? Because I'm a horrible dueler--?!"

"Because I won't have the Ministry happen again!" Ron exploded, face bright crimson. She could feel his hands shaking as they clutched her tighter than ever as if he was afraid she was going to slip away. Neville, Ginny, and Luna stared openly, no longer pretending that they weren't listening to every word of their conversation. Hermione took one look deep within his gleaming, intense, fiery blue eyes and knew in an instant what he meant. It wasn't that he thought she was helpless and couldn't defend herself and if she stayed to watch for Malfoy, she wouldn't be competent enough to fight properly. It wasn't about that at all. He just never wanted to have to watch her fight to keep breathing and stay alive. He couldn't. He had been so traumatized by that night that the fear of standing by and watching her die had even surpassed his fear of spiders. This year, he could do a lot of things he never could do before, but he never ever would be able to do that. He'd die before he would.

Ron roughly released her although Hermione could still feel the imprint of his fingers tingling on her arms. He didn't drop his eyes from hers as he usually did whenever things got scarily intense between them. He was no longer afraid to let her see everything. "So will you go already?" he demanded harshly.

For one brief irrational second, Hermione considered throwing herself at him right then and there. His eyes had always burned her so deeply that even her rationality was seared clean away. There were only his eyes. It scared her just how much of her world rested in his eyes. And now that their worlds could possibly be destroyed tonight, now may be the only time that they could admit to each other the long-awaited truth. Life-and-death situations typically caused people to admit their true feelings for each other. This was one of those situations and this could be the moment that Ron finally grew up and acted on something deep and powerful that had been stirring in their veins for several years.

But at the same time, Hermione didn't want Ron to blurt out everything he had ever felt towards her because of some stupid war. She didn't want Voldemort to be the reason for their admittance of their feelings for each other. She wanted it to be mutual; she wanted it to be because she or Ron couldn't stand the suspense any longer and a heartfelt confession was made. Whatever was happening between the two of them was just between the two of them. There was no reason to involve Voldemort or the war. It shouldn't happen this way. When it finally happened, the moment should be absolutely perfect and this wasn't the perfect moment. Hermione looked at her feet and sighed. She wished it was, but it wasn't. And Hermione Granger never settled. She wouldn't settle for less than perfection. Ron wasn't perfect, but he was the perfect boy for her. She wanted to have the perfect kiss with him. It was overly idealistic, but she couldn't help how she felt.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, found that there was absolutely nothing she could say to make him understand just how much his words meant to her and how scared she was for him and how he absolutely had to be careful. Instead she just nodded and fed off the fire in his eyes before resolutely turning on her heel and marching past Luna. Luna, wide-eyed as always, followed. Hermione's breath caught stubbornly in her chest so she had to breathe shallowly through clenched teeth as she strode down to the dungeons. Even though she had agreed to go, she really hated that she was being left behind.

**

Eons of time seemed to pass. A second felt like an hour, a minute a day, an hour a century and still Hermione and Luna waited, sitting side by side against the wall directly opposite Snape's office door, wands poised in their laps. Tension had stifled their voices so the silence that loomed between them made time drag by even slower. Hermione wished there was something she could do or say that could abate the nervous tension eating their lives away, but there was nothing but waiting. That's all they could do.

Luna on the other hand seemed to be as calm as ever. She simply sat bemusedly, eyes fastened stoutly on the door across from them. She had no idea why they were really here, but that didn't matter. She was still going to help in whatever way she could. Hermione shot her a quick grateful look before returning her undivided attention to the door. It was really too bad that more people didn't give Luna a chance. Once you got over the Quibbler obsession, she was really a very lovely person.

It was so quiet that Hermione felt as though they were the only two people in the castle although she knew that several floors up, three more students waited in tense anticipation. Or maybe they weren't anymore. Hermione looked down at her watch. Several hours had passed. A million things could have happened that she was perfectly unaware of due to the castle's vast size. For all she knew, Voldemort himself could be having a tea party in the Room of Requirement with Ron, Ginny, and Neville. Not for the first time, Hermione wished she could leave her post and race up to check on them. They really should have come up with a system to alert each other if one group was in trouble and needed help. But she couldn't. She wouldn't. She had promised Ron that she would stay. Luna couldn't be left alone in case something did happen. She had to stay. Hermione shifted uncomfortably and forced herself to stare at the door again with all of the concentration she had. Wild hippogriffs couldn't drag her away from this spot.

After another stretch of undisclosed time, something finally happened. Footsteps pounded down the corridor. The torches weren't lit near the staircase so Hermione couldn't see who it was. She straightened up and peered into the dimness. She knew from the footfall that it couldn't be Ron; these footsteps were far too light. Even when he was in a good mood, Ron stomped like a herd of graphorns. Luna pushed herself onto her knees so she could get a better look around Hermione's straining head. Both girls were ready for anything.

"Severus, Severus, Severus, Severus!" Professor Flitwick squeaked as he appeared in the dim light, sprinting as fast as his little legs could bear. His wand was out, but his hands were shaking so violently that Hermione thought he was going to drop it at any moment. He raced past the two girls, not even recognizing their presence, and pounded on the door. "Severus!" Without waiting for a request to enter, Flitwick opened the door and flew inside. He thrust the door open so violently that the door opened completely, bounced angrily off the wall, and closed almost completely again so the girls were barely hear Flitwick exclaiming that Snape had to go back with him to help. Hermione strained to listen closer. Help with what?

"What's wrong with him?" Luna asked as she followed Hermione's example and got to her feet.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know." She had a fairly good idea though but she didn't think voicing it at the moment would be very wise. Luna would only be even more frightened.

The door was yanked open and Hermione jumped slightly as Snape came barreling out of the door, his wand out. He froze when he saw Hermione and Luna. Hermione held her breath when Snape's dark, beady eyes rested on hers, practically feeling him rapidly assess and discern why she was here. Her stomach leapt nervously. Ron was wrong. They didn't need brains down here. Her cleverness wouldn't be able to stop Snape from using Occlumency on her.

With a swallow, Snape jerked his head backwards into his office. "Get Professor Flitwick up to hospital and stay there," he ordered curtly.

Hospital? Hermione hesitated, desperately needing to know what was going on and why Snape was suddenly so pale that she wondered if he was the one who needed to go to hospital. "Professor--"

"Miss Granger, go!" he shouted before taking off down the hall at such a desperate speed that Hermione knew she had no hope of catching up. Still, she hesitated, wondering if she should follow. Technically, she was supposed tail Snape so really, she should follow him. Luna could get Flitwick up to the hospital wing on her own. She really was free to follow him. Harry would want her to; he didn't trust Snape...

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned on her heel and strode into Snape's office. Luna was crouching next to Professor Flitwick who was crumbled face down onto the floor, his head facing Snape's desk. He wasn't moving. Immediately, Hermione made up her mind and squatted down beside Luna. Harry might not be wrong about Malfoy, but he was wrong about Snape. Dumbledore trusted Snape for a reason. Wherever he was going, he was going to be helping them. A pesky student tailing him would be a major hindrance. She would be much more helpful here. "Professor?" she said loudly and clearly while lightly shaking Flitwick's shoulder. He didn't move. She nodded for Luna to also put her hands on Flitwick's side. "Help me roll him onto his back."

Luna complied and Hermione sat back on her heels when they finished, quickly assessing Flitwick's state. He had a bright red blotch on his forehead from where he had struck the floor that would probably turn into a massive bruise, but other than that, he was unscathed. He must have just collapsed for some reason. Hermione turned slightly so she could conjure a stretcher and floated Flitwick onto it. When he dropped gently onto the stiff cotton, Hermione couldn't help smiling slightly. She had just successfully performed her first Healing spells.

Sensing what needed to be done, Luna trotted ahead to open doors and move any obstacles from Hermione's path as she carefully levitated Flitwick down the hall. They made it to hospital without any complications. Hermione turned sideways so she could make it through the door Luna was holding open without bumping Flitwick into the wall. "Get Madame Pomfrey," she requested once she made it through. Luna nodded and scurried over to the nurse's office while Hermione levitated Flitwick off of the stretcher and onto the nearest bed, letting out a sigh of relief when the task was finished. She had been concerned that her spellwork would fail along the way and Flitwick would tumble to the floor. Her Healing spell casting must be better than she had thought.

Abruptly, Professor Flitwick let out a moan and his head twitched to the side. Hermione quickly sat down next to him. "Professor?" she said quietly, hoping her voice would draw him back into consciousness.

"Out of the way, Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey demanded as she bustled over to the bed and shooed Hermione out of the way. Hermione obligingly stepped back next to Luna and bit her lip anxiously. "Filius?" Madame Pomfrey soothed as she checked the professor's pulse and vital signs. "Filius, can you hear me?"

The only response was another long groan. That however did little to defer the nurse. She nudged Flitwick more sharply. "Filius? Open your eyes."

It took a few moments of blinking and muttering, but Filius Flitwick eventually obeyed and stared blankly up at the ceiling. Eventually, his hand came up to clasp his aching forehead. He looked utterly bewildered, so Madame Pomfrey quickly attempted to placate him. "You're in hospital, Filius. We aren't certain what happened. Can you remember what happened to you?"

Hermione took an unobtrusive step forward to make sure she would catch every word Filius muttered. She had a feeling that Harry would want to know everything that had occurred since he had left Hogwarts. Luna followed suit and both girls strained to make out their professor's mumbling.

"Minerva...sent me to Severus...I went to him..." His hand tightened around his forehead. "My head..."

"It's all right, Filius," Madame Pomfrey soothed. "Memory loss is common after a collapse like the one you took. Just give yourself a moment to remember--"

Abrupt knowledge whacked Flitwick upon the side of his squat head and he sat up faster than Harry caught the Snitch. "Death Eaters."

"What?" the three women demanded as one.

"That's why I was sent--Death Eaters made it into the castle." No longer glassy-eyed and dazed, Flitwick swung his legs off the mattress and hopped nimbly off the bed. The sheer necessity to stay strong and protect his school had wiped away his disorientation.

Poppy Pomfrey was so taken aback that she didn't even object to her patient's plan to leave without further supervision. "Here?--Are you sure?"

"Positive." Flitwick looked over at Hermione and Luna for the first time. "You girls stay here with Poppy. I'll be back." Without another word, he bustled out of the hospital wing and took off in the direction of the fray.

"Filius!" Pomfrey tried vainly but the Charms professor was long gone. With a sigh of exasperated fear, she turned back to the two students gaping in her direction. "Stay right there," she ordered sternly. "Don't move an inch. I'm going to try to contact Dumbledore. I'll be right back."

Hermione watched the nurse go, arms folded tightly around her churning stomach. The thought of Death Eaters invading her school was making her physically ill. She waited until the matron was safely in her office before turning to Luna, her eyes shining with hardened determination. She had just spent hours waiting for news; she was not about to pass any more time just waiting.

And Luna, God love her, understood completely. "Go."

She didn't a second's more encouragement. Hermione took off and was out the door as quickly and nimbly as Flitwick had just moments before. She had noticed that the professor had turned to the left upon exiting the ward so she mimicked his movement. With any luck, she would be able to catch up and Flitwick could lead her straight to the battle where she was certain Ron, Ginny, and Neville would be battling away, fighting for their lives. She considered checking the hallway where she had left them, but decided against it. If that had been the Death Eater's point of entry, they would be long gone from that location. They could be anywhere now.

Flitwick was also long gone so she had no idea where to begin. Hermione hesitated by the staircase for a few seconds before running up the stairs. She was just going to try trusting her instincts. Ron and the others had been waiting on the seventh floor so there was a good possibility that they could still be there. The spiral stairs whirled and whirled around her, making her dizzy as she sped up as fast as she could, tripping a little on her shoelaces, straining her breath, and just praying that everything was going to somehow turn out to be all right...

"Oomph!"

Hermione gasped as she smacked straight into someone and bounced backwards. The bottom of her foot scraped the edge of the step and she would have tumbled down the stairs in a really nasty fall if the obstacle hadn't reached out and seized her just in time. Quickly, she regained her footing and tried to focus on her savior despite that she was more than a little shaken by her close call. "Professor Slughorn," she said gratefully, sagging with relief. "Thank goodness. Have you seen--?"

"Death Eaters are here?" he grunted unevenly.

Her mouth opened to reply, but her voice creaked and halted when she saw his face. Slughorn was so pale. From what Harry had told her about his visit to Slughorn over the summer, this was his worst fear. And ever since Harry had gotten the memory from him, Slughorn had been acting a little funny. He was as jolly as ever, but Hermione had sensed that something was a little off. He had been defeated.

"Uh--yes," Hermione finally got out. She tried to say something more, but she once again fell silence. Somehow, she knew that she needed to be silent and just listen.

Slughorn still hadn't released her arms. Hermione squirmed a little, but didn't try to pull away just yet. His eyes were so unfocused that it was evident that he wasn't looking at her, but a ghost of an illusion he was desperately fighting to cling to. "You're so like her," Slughorn mumbled unexpectedly. One of his stubby thick hands rose to pat her head with clumsy affection. "So like her." His hand slid back to grasp the back of her head and pull her a little towards him so she would see how vividly his eyes burned, begging without a word for her to understand what he was trying to tell her. "You'll never know how much."

Hermione finally pulled away from his grip, stepping down a step to put some distance between them. She was more than a little unnerved by his behavior. "What?"

But Slughorn was gone again, lost to the oblivion of his memories. Tottering unsteadily, he turned away from Hermione and retreated back up the stairs. Hermione remained still for a few seconds with her eyes blankly on the empty space he had occupied a moment before. For once, she was quite at a loss; there was no rational explanation for Slughorn's actions. It was becoming more and more obvious to her that Slughorn was rapidly regressing into the delusions of the past. The future was becoming increasingly uncertain and bleak, the present was empty and static, so all he had was his past. And not just the past--what he wished his past would have been, the dream of what could have been. He could have stopped Tom Riddle from discovering what a Horcrux was; Slughorn really, truly wished he could have been that person. But he hadn't. That didn't stop him from pretending that he was.

For the first time and probably not the last, Hermione felt more than a little sorry for the seemingly jolly Potions professor. All he had were illusions. She considered following him, but after another second, she turned on her heel and quickly walked down to explore the next floor. She didn't think she could help Slughorn at the moment.

"Hermione!" Hermione froze at the mention of her name, not because it was unexpected, but because that very distinctive voice very rarely called her by her first name. She turned and almost meekly waited for Professor McGonagall to stride over to her. Even from a distance, she could see the professor's lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. McGonagall stopped in front of her student and looked at her severely. "And just what do you think you're doing?"

"I was just looking for--"

"All students were ordered to return to their dormitories and stay--"

"I don't know where Ron and Harry are," Hermione interrupted before she could stop herself, her voice tight with desperation. Her vocal cords strained with concern, but Hermione managed to speak over it. "I'm not going back until I find them."

It was almost imperceptible, but Hermione knew her favorite teacher well and saw McGonagall soften. McGonagall's voice, however, as always, remained crisp with authority. "Go to hospital, I sent Mr. Weasley up there a few minutes ago--"

"Hospital?"

"He's--it's not--just go," Professor McGonagall cut herself off impatiently when she saw the younger woman's face. She knew Hermione didn't want to wait for an explanation.

She didn't; she took off towards the stairwell, fighting off the sickening feeling of déjà vu that was coursing through her as she unintentionally thought about the last time she had rushed off to hospital to see about Ron. Why couldn't he just stay safe and healthy and perfect because the thought of anything happening to him drove her so batty that she was rendered useless? A capable girl like Hermione didn't feel useless very awful, but the moments when she really, truly did--when she was ready to just stop existing and breathing because of the insane confusion dictating her every move--always had to do with her two stupid best friends who had nasty habits of getting themselves in trouble. They were smart--they knew what it did to her--if they cared about her at all, they'd stay safe--just for once--

She was through the hospital doors. Hermione slowed down to a stop, panting slightly, and looked about the room in confusion. Only Luna was there, sitting on the edge of the bed nearest to the door, twiddling her fingers somewhat anxiously. She stood immediately at the sight of Hermione, her eyes wider than ever. "Well?" she inquired.

Hermione actually turned a full circle in case she had missed something. Professor McGonagall wouldn't tell her to come here to see Ron unless Ron was coming. Where was he? Hermione made another confused circle, her hand dropping down on the top of her head in frustration. "He's not here?"

"Ronald?" Luna shook her head, knowing precisely who Hermione was referring to. "No. Why would he?"

"McGonagall said he would--unless he collapsed on the way up here," Hermione suddenly hypothesized anxiously, pushing herself up on the balls of her feet and biting her lip, debating whether or not she should race out of here once again in a mad dash to find Ron.

"He wouldn't be alone if he was hurt," Luna reminded her serenely. "They wouldn't allow it."

Hermione's heels fell back to the floor. "Oh." A rush of air returned to her lungs, allowing her to think a little clearer. "Right."

It was that moment that mercifully, the door banged open, falling closed a few feet before it was kicked open again. Neville, panting and sweaty-faced, half-stumbled into the ward and probably would have fallen flat on his face if one of his arms weren't slung around Ginny's shoulders and the other was supported by Ron.

Ron.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted without thinking. Her blood rushed with beautiful relief to her brain, making her momentarily dizzy as she charged towards the trio. Luna followed close behind and together, the four of them got Neville into a bed.

"We need help!" Ginny called loudly down the way so the nurse was aware that she had another patient.

"I'm--I'm--okay--" Neville panted, his face screwed up with pain. One arm had wrapped protectively around his midriff and he brought up his knees to his chest in a desperate attempt to dissipate the pain.

Ginny used a phrase that her mother never would have approved of to indicate her skepticism. "Pomfrey!" With a roll of her eyes, Ginny charged towards Flitwick's bed. "I'll be right back," she called over her shoulder.

Neville rolled to the side, gritting his teeth to restrain his moans. Hermione slipped over to his side with an anxious frown creasing her features. "Neville?" she asked quietly. It would be stupid to ask if he was all right; obviously he wasn't. "What happened?"

"A--barrier--put--on--stairs--and I--hit--it," Neville explained spastically, gasping for breath between every few words. Talking seemed to pain him immensely, so Hermione shushed him when he tried to continue the story.

"So there was a barrier on a stairwell and you ran into it," she repeated just for clarification. There was no staircase near the Room of Requirement and Hermione desperately wanted to ask where they had gone, but that was irrelevant right now. She could ask Ron later. "So it threw you and--" she trailed off, trying to come up with a plausible hypothesis. The standard restraining barrier wouldn't have caused severe abdominal pain. Something must have happened when Neville was thrown. "Did you land on something? On your stomach?"

Neville nodded as he rolled back on his back, curled up like a dying cockroach. His face was scrunched up in so much blatant agony that Hermione flinched as though she was the one who was suffering. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked softly as she gently sat on the edge of Neville's bed.

His hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out for something, but Neville knew better than to try. He tried to articulate what he wanted, but to save him from the effort, Hermione looked around for inspiration. There was a pitcher of water and a glass on the bedside table immediately to her left. "Water? Do you want some water?"

She didn't think that was what he wanted, but Neville did nod after a moment, so Hermione turned to retrieve it for him. Luna's hand however came up to intercept. "I'll get it," she offered. Her pale eyebrows jerked towards the end of Neville's bed. "Go see Ronald," she said very quietly so not even Neville could hear.

Immediately, Hermione was on her feet. Luna serenely switched places with Hermione as she poured Neville his drink. Ron had paced back towards the entrance, hands balled into fists, still wild-eyed from the battle. He was struggling to breathe normally and Hermione took off towards him. Perhaps he had been hurt. "Ron?" she asked if she came up behind him, her hand coming up to his arm so she could turn him around and look at him. "What--"

But she never got to ask what he needed. She didn't have to. Abruptly, without thinking about anything, without second-guessing, without a single thought about all of the hell they had gone through this year, Ron wheeled around, scooped her up, and held her tight. Her arms automatically came up to wrap around his neck and she buried her face into his shoulder. This was the only place in the world that was so completely like home that it scared her. She remembered vividly the last time they had hugged so fiercely in this hospital wing, but this time was infinitely different. Second-year's embrace had been undoubtedly heartfelt, but also tainted with awkward insecurity of their age. But now, four years later, Ron's arms were tight and fast around her, holding her as close to him as humanly possible so there was no mistaking the fact that if he had his way, he would never ever let her go. Due to the difference in height, she had to stand on her tiptoes to keep her arms around his neck, but Ron's grip was so warm and solid that Hermione knew she would never fall. As long as she stayed here, she was safe, protected, and right where she belonged forever and ever.

Usually, Ron was the one to break away first, but this time it was Hermione who stepped back to inspect him for injuries. His hands slid down to cling to Hermione's. "You're all right, aren't you?" she asked anxiously. "You took the lucky potion so you were safe, right?" She had been kicking herself after leaving him about not reminding him to use the potion, but hopefully he had remembered on his own. A swift scan of his body revealed that his robes were torn and he was scratched and bruised in several places--he had a few long scratches on his collarbone that looked rather deep--but other than that, he was uninjured. His face though contradicted that assessment: he was so pale. "Ron?"

"They bring Bill up yet?" Ron demanded without preamble. His eyes darted edgily around the ward, searching for his brother. He was breathing quite rapidly as if he had run twelve marathons back to back. He had yet to let go of Hermione's hands.

"No," Hermione answered with her heart in her throat. "What happened to Bill?"

Ron didn't answer. He just looked at Madame Pomfrey, who had finally responded to Ginny's call. "Is my brother here?" he asked the nurse bluntly, not caring if she was tending to Neville.

"Which one; you have several," Madame Pomfrey said wearily without looking away from Neville.

"Bill," Ron said exasperatedly. He paced back towards Neville's bed, bringing Hermione with him. "Tonks said she was bringing him right up--he got attacked by that werewolf guy--he was bleeding--" His fingers crushed Hermione's and she leaned her forehead against his arm, wishing she knew what to say. Ron worshipped his oldest brother and if--Hermione stopped herself and wrapped her free arm around his. She wouldn't allow herself to go there just yet.

Madame Pomfrey took one second to look away from Neville and at Ron. "I won't know anything until he's brought up," she said in a more soothing tone of voice. "But if your brother is still the boy I remember from school, I'm sure he'll be just fine."

Ron looked as though he was about to disagree, but Ginny just shook her head at him. "Just wait, Ron." She was just as pale as he was, but she recognized that Neville needed just as much medical attention as Bill did.

With an anxious sigh, Ron paced away from the bed once again, unconsciously propelling Hermione along with him due to the tight hold on her hand. Reluctantly, Hermione carefully extricated herself from him. "I'll go see what's keeping them if you want," she offered.

She had meant to help him, but obviously that had been the wrong thing to say. "No, no, stay here," Ron insisted. He forcefully sat her down on the next bed so she wouldn't go anywhere. "Just stay."

"Okay," Hermione agreed although she didn't very much appreciate being ordered around like a dog. But Ron didn't know what he was doing--he was just worried sick and couldn't stand not knowing the whereabouts of someone else he cared about. She reached for his hand again and silently, Ron let her pull him down next to her. He sat doubled forward, poised to spring up the moment Bill was brought into the ward with their clasped hands resting on his knee.

Ginny mouthed a thank you to Hermione as she watched Neville moan and twitch. "Is he going to be all right?"

"M'okay," Neville reassured weakly. Luna laid her hand on Neville's forehead, her eyes glassy and distant.

"Stay still," Luna requested for Madame Pomfrey. Soothed by her touch, Neville meekly obeyed.

The nurse gave Luna surprised look of gratitude before finishing her examination. Concentrating intently, she waved her wand over Neville's stomach. Whatever she did must have helped for Neville relaxed visibly. He quieted and lay still, panting with relief. "I'll get you some medication--you are going to have to stay here for some time, young man. You're very lucky."

As she bustled into her office to draw up some draughts of medicine, Neville rolled his head gratefully in Ron's direction. "Thanks."

Ron just shook his head to let him know that he'd do whatever he did for Neville again in a heartbeat. Hermione gave him a sideways look, wondering what had happened. She had assumed Neville had been referring to the Felix Felicis Ron had shared with him, but now she wasn't so sure. Her eyes went to the cuts on Ron's collarbone again. "Ron--"

The doors to the hospital wing opened magically and stayed there while Lupin and Tonks levitated a stretcher bearing a tall, limp body with bandages already swathed around his face, the white gauze already stained brightly with hot red blood. Hermione's heart turned over at the sight of it. She had never seen so much blood.

She and Ron leapt to their feet while Bill was rushed over to the farthest bed from the door. Ginny was already hurrying after them and they began to follow when another bang attracted their attention. Professor McGonagall had just arrived, panting and white-faced. She glanced anxiously around the hospital wing, searching for someone. When she didn't find him or her, she appealed directly to her two sixth-year prefects.

"Make sure you remain here," she ordered. "All of you. And that goes for Mr. Potter when he returns. I need to speak to you--" Without waiting for confirmation, she whipped back around and rushed out of the ward with an agility that Hermione had not anticipated for someone McGonagall's age.

Hermione turned to see that Madame Pomfrey had just returned from retrieving Neville's medication and paled when she saw her latest patient. "Get him on the bed," she ordered Lupin and Tonks. "I'll be right there."

"I'll give it to him," Hermione offered, intercepting the nurse before she could return to Neville. Ron looked like he was about to burst so she thought it would be prudent for Bill to get medical help as soon as possible.

If it was anyone else, Madame Pomfrey would have refused. But Hermione's intellect and discretion was renowned even among the faculty so she just nodded her consent. "Have him drink this whole vial--it should put him right to sleep and help the internal bleeding."

Hermione returned to Neville while Ron and Madame Pomfrey raced over to Bill. "Here, Neville," Hermione said gently. Luna shifted to help Neville sit up enough while Hermione held the glass so he could gulp down the pungent purple liquid. Neville fell back against the pillows, his eyes already starting to close blearily.

"I'll stay with him," Luna said, knowing that Hermione was debating whether or not to sit with Neville or go check on Bill. It was amazing how the battiest girl in school could be so calm and collected and perceptive in moments like this.

She nodded and set the empty beaker on Neville's table. Before heading back, she leaned over to gently touch Neville's shoulder. "Feel better," Hermione said softly, earning her a smile from the half-conscious boy. Quickly, she walked back to the end of the room where Ron, Ginny, Tonks, and Lupin were gathered, all watching Madame Pomfrey remove Bill's bandages in extreme trepidation. From where she was standing, Hermione couldn't see the wounds but from the way the nurse's back stiffened once they were finally removed, she knew it couldn't bode well for Bill.

"It looks worse than it is," Madame Pomfrey reported finally, not looking at any of the anxious visitors. "There's just a great deal of blood."

"So he'll be okay?" Ron asked, his voice creaking with hope.

The matron looked up grimly and as much as it pained her, she shook her head. "They were deep enough."

"What does that mean?" Ginny demanded.

Her wand was passing over Bill's wounds in another vain attempt to close the cuts so it took a moment for Madame Pomfrey to answer. "I don't know what the aftereffects will be--they vary from case to case--he'll certainly never look the same. Scars like these will never fully heal." She nodded over to Ron to let him know that her sharp eye hadn't fail to notice his slashes. "Those won't be going away anytime soon."

It felt as though Hermione had just had a Bludger hurl at top speed into her stomach. Her eyes went wide as she turned to him, knowing full well what Pomfrey was insinuating had happened to him. "Ron..."

Ron's hands were up and buttoning his collar to hide the slashes so nobody else would notice. "It's fine," he said curtly. "Forget it."

Madame Pomfrey was bustling past her and Ron so Hermione couldn't tell him that she wasn't going to forget about this at all; they would just talk about it later. At least his slashes had scabbed over on his own, meaning that they couldn't be very deep at all, especially if they were caused by a werewolf's nails. Hermione shuddered at the thought, but that tremor was nothing compared to the one that wracked through her when she got her first good look at Bill's face. Pomfrey had said that it looked a lot worse than it really was, but she couldn't even see the easy-going, handsome man she had met in fourth-year. She still vividly remembered the first time she had saw him; he had been outside playing Quidditch with his brothers when she had arrived at the Burrow. Ron had been waiting for her inside and after she had gotten settled, the two of them had joined his family on the makeshift pitch. Both Bill and Charlie had landed so they could meet her.

"So this is Hermione," Charlie had said knowingly. He looked a lot more like the twins than his other brothers, especially with that wide smirk on his face. "Good to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you." He looked up at Fred who was hovering nearby. Fred had snickered and merrily waved down to them when both Hermione and Ron had glared at him. Hermione had already been feeling flustered since she had just realized that perhaps she liked Ron more than a friend and had acted like an idiot when she had fallen out of the fireplace--it was the first time she had used Floo powder--and she could feel herself blushing.

And Bill, beautiful, wonderful Bill, had held out his hand as if Hermione were a respected colleague and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Hermione," he had said with nothing but friendly respect in his voice. He smiled warmly at her, melting away all of her uncertainties. Bill had an air about him that could put anyone at ease. "How was your trip down?"

"Fine," she had answered almost shyly, not sure what to do about this. She knew he was Ron's brother and all and he had to talk to her to be polite, but she hadn't expected it. It wasn't often that attractive older men spoke to her.

Ron had snorted then. "Yeah, fine," he said in disbelief. "It was her first time with Floo powder--there was soot everywhere," he explained to his brothers before whipping his head wildly from side to side as if he were a wet dog, mimicking her with startling accuracy, complete with her breathless 'oh's of surprise.

Everyone was laughing except Hermione who had folded her arms over her chest. "Was that supposed to be me?"

"Yeah," Ron said with a chuckle, looking pleased with himself.

"Sorry, I thought that it was you trying to play Quidditch," she retorted. It was a more spiteful quip that she and Ron usually hurtled back and forth between each other, but she was still a little worked up from the trip over here and the way she had acted around Ron. He couldn't know she liked him--he'd tease her for ages--

Ron scowled at her as his brothers all started laughing harder than ever, George nearly falling off his broom in his amusement. But no one had laughed harder than Bill who leaned his head back and laughed heartily, his guffaws echoing across the pitch. Before Ron could get nasty, Bill clasped him around the back of the head and shoved him affectionately towards the pitch. "Well, go prove her wrong, Ronnie," he told him. "Get your broom."

Momentarily appeased and delighted to be included in his older brother's game, Ron hurried to grab his broom. Bill turned to Hermione. "Do you play, Hermione?"

"No," Hermione said quickly.

"Yeah, Hermione doesn't do anything that doesn't involved a book," Ron called over from the tree where the extra Cleansweeps had been propped up, still stung from her comment.

"You should try doing something with a book," Hermione returned, quite forgetting that four very intrigued brothers were watching them intently. "You might actually get better marks."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Here we go--why don't you save the lecture about my atrocious study habits until we get back to school?"

"Because now is as good of a time as ever," Hermione explained hotly.

Ron didn't get the opportunity to respond. "Did you just use the word atrocious?" Fred interrupted gleefully.

"Correctly?" George added.

"I know what it means!" Ron snapped.

"Because of her, I reckon," Charlie remarked. He exchanged another look with the twins and snickered. "Good to see someone's finally rubbing off on you, Ron."

"Or should we say rubbing up on--"

"Shut up!" Ron bellowed before Fred to go any further. Hermione had looked at him in bewilderment. She had been at an age where she hadn't realized what Fred had been insinuating and she had had no idea that ever since the very first summer holiday after first-year, Ron was mocked relentlessly about her. Ron only had to talk about her for about five minutes before his older brothers had recognized what was going on and knew that he was in for it. That of course meant reminding Ron over and over again just how hard he had fallen for his friend.

Sensing Ron was about to snap, Bill had picked up his broom. "All right, let's play," he said in a casual voice that still somehow warned everyone that no one should push this any further without severe consequences. The other brothers had obediently returned to the skies while Bill had paused to speak to Hermione again. "You're going to watch?"

Hermione nodded, still baffled by all that had just happened. She would never understand the unique relationships between a band of brothers.

Bill grinned the famous grin, the smile that generations of Weasley men had used to charm several girls over several years and would soon be charming one Hermione Granger on numerous occasions. "Wicked." He had given Hermione a discreet wink that had momentarily made her reconsider her crush on Ron and soared off into the sky to Ron. He had said something quietly to Ron which earned him a punch on the shoulder. Bill had only laughed again and it was that wide, earnest grin that always popped into Hermione's memory whenever Hermione thought about Bill. Most people had a very specific memory and image of a person that was instantly called to mind whenever that person came up in conversation or your thoughts and that was Hermione's: Bill on the broom, talking to Ron, laughing his head off, his long crimson hair fluttering in the breeze, his fang earring bobbing as he flew, confirming his status of ultimate coolness.

Bill would always be that man in Hermione's mind but as she looked at him on the hospital bed, for a few seconds, she couldn't see that at all. The sculpted features were obscured or annihilated by rows and rows of slashes, gashes, and severe scratches. There were so many wounds that Hermione saw more raw redness than actual freckled skin. It was as though his face was permanently covered in these lacerations. In one particularly deep cut on his cheek, Hermione could actually see a purple vein pulsating weakly, trying to function normally even with all of the trauma inflicted upon it, and she couldn't help emitting a little sigh of pity and sympathy. Poor Bill.

Madame Pomfrey was returning with a bottle of green ointment that wafted unpleasantly into her nose even from this distance. Hermione stepped aside to let the nurse get to work, but Ron didn't move. "Wait," he requested. Madame Pomfrey started to argue but Lupin shook his head at her as Ron stepped right next to his brother. Hermione thought she was the only one who caught his face quivering since it was so subtle, but Ron managed to reach out, his fingers close enough to touch the open, exposed flesh, and with a gentleness that few rarely saw, removed Bill's earring from his partially mangled ear. Ron straightened up, chest heaving. "He wouldn't want this to get messed up," he explained quietly. Immediately, he stepped back so Pomfrey could do her work, eyes riveted to the spots of blood that had flecked onto the dragon fang, still trembling ever so slightly.

With a hand over her mouth, Hermione quickly turned and walked a few steps away from Ron and Bill. The last thing Ron needed to see right now was her tears, but dear God, he was so wonderful and that moment of ultimate brotherly affection was too much to bear with everything else that had just happened. There was so much unrestrained love between the Weasleys that sometimes Hermione couldn't bear to watch it and couldn't believe that she was blessed to be included by them. She knew from the funny look Harry would get on his face sometimes at the Weasleys that Harry felt the same way.

Harry. Hermione's hand dropped from her mouth. Someone had to find him and Dumbledore and tell him everything that had happened. If he was in any state to hear about it. Hermione pushed those thoughts away before they could wreak havoc in her imagination. Just because Harry was off on a deadly mission to retrieve a Horcrux didn't mean that he had been injured as horribly as Bill or worse. Harry had survived worse; he was the strongest person Hermione had ever known. He'd be fine.

Shakily, Hermione started to return to Bill's bedside, but that's when she noticed that Ginny was trying to discreetly slip past everyone and head towards the exit. "Ginny? Where are you going?" Hermione asked as she walked away from Bill's bed with a frown. McGonagall had just said that they all had to stay here and they didn't know if there were anymore Death Eaters lurking outside.

Ginny halted impatiently. She wouldn't look Hermione in the eye. "There's something I have to do. I'll be right back."

"Ginny..." Hermione warned, but before she could go any further, Lupin had come over to them, pale with anxiety. Ginny suppressed a growl of irritation. Now she certainly couldn't go where she wanted.

Lupin glanced at her and something flicked in his eyes, as if he were looking an old friend he hadn't seen in years. But when he spoke, his voice was even and matter-of-fact as ever. "Have either of you seen Harry?"

"He went somewhere with Dumbledore," Hermione answered promptly, hoping that that would be enough to satisfy Lupin's curiosity. She didn't know how much Lupin and the Order knew about the Horcruxes.

It wasn't. He shook his head. "I know he went with Albus, but I meant since he got back--"

"Harry's back?" Hermione said sharply as her heart and stomach shuddered as one. If Harry came back during the battle, God only knew where he was now. He would have done everything he possibly could and more to stop those Death Eaters. Ron's head finally jerked away from his brother at Hermione's exclamation and he actually left Bill's bedside to join Hermione.

"I thought I saw him," Lupin clarified, taken aback by the nearly identical desperate looks on Hermione and Ron's faces. "I might have--"

"No. He's here," Ginny interrupted. Her face had that hard look she had had when she had finally thrown herself at Harry after the Quidditch final. So that was where Ginny had been going with Hermione had stopped her: she was trying to track down Harry. "I saw him too. He saved me and then took off after Snape and Malfoy."

"Harry went after them?" Lupin said in a voice Hermione had never heard from him before: really, honestly scared. "Alone?"

Ginny's chin shook ever so slightly. "Yes." Hermione closed her eyes, although she certainly expected that answer.

"Hey." Ron abruptly walked away from the group, his stride picking up as he almost ran over to one of the windows. "Is that Hagrid's?"

"Is that Hagrid's what?" Hermione asked as she followed Ron over to the window with Ginny and Lupin close behind. Every nerve in her jolted in panic when she saw the flames engulfing the friendly hut where she had spent so many pleasant hours with her friends. "Hagrid!"

Both she and Ron started towards the door, but Lupin's hands deftly seized both of their robes. "Wait!" Lupin steered them back so they could see the enormous figure emerging from the flames with a boarhound slung across his back. "He's fine, see, he's fine..."

But Ron and Hermione had very little time to relax, for as soon as those words were out of Lupin's mouth, Ginny was gasping as though her heart was being squeezed into tiny little pieces. "Harry!"

"Where?!"" Ron and Hermione asked as one. Ginny used a precious second to point at the figure who had just stumbled towards Hagrid and fallen to his knees as if he were badly hurt; even from here, Hermione could see that he was trembling violently. No...

Ginny was gone before anyone could even begin to try to stop her. Lupin dropped his hold on Ron and Hermione and started to follow, but Tonks' shouts finally permeated his consciousness. From her tone, she had been yelling his name for quite some time. "Remus," she barked again. "We need you!"

Ron whipped back towards his brother's bed as Lupin took off to assist Madame Pomfrey. Bill. He hesitated, eyes shooting back out the window to Harry. Hermione followed his gaze and saw that Hagrid had joined Harry and was picking him up from the ground and setting him on his feet. Harry swayed, but stayed upright. Harry wiped his face before nodding towards the hut and saying something. Both of them started shooting water out of their wands to put out the fire. Hermione's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. If Harry was well enough to do magic, he couldn't be that badly injured.

It took a second longer to convince Ron that his best mate didn't need his help. After watching Harry for a few more seconds, he turned and returned his brother's bedside, knowing that Ginny would bring Harry up here as requested. Hermione stepped more slowly back from the window, wondering and dreading what must have happened to Harry for her to be able to tell from here that he was trembling, that he was frightened, that something was really and terribly wrong.

But as much as Hermione hated to admit it--and Hermione had a feeling that Ron had made the same realization too--they shouldn't be the ones racing out to comfort him. As much as they wanted to, there was now somebody in his life that could console and love Harry in a way that she and Ron never could. Harry needed Ginny right now. Just Ginny.

Hermione turned away from the window and walked back to Bill. Harry would come to them when he was ready. No girlfriend or boyfriend would ever break up their indissoluble trio, but their relationships could change. Nevertheless, for the first time, Hermione felt a little jealous of Harry and Ginny's relationship and a little lonely about the pangs of growing up. She couldn't help wondering if they were growing up away from each other.

"He's all right," Ron said to her the moment she returned to his side. He was actually pale with relief. "One of the really deep cuts had started up again--" he pointed to the slash on his cheek that Hermione had noticed earlier. "--and Pomfrey needed another caster to stop the bleeding and Tonks had never done it before so that's why they yelled for Lupin. But he's fine. He'll be okay." He seemed to be saying the words to convince himself as much as her. Hermione nodded as she watched Tonks give Lupin an indecipherable look before pulling back to the foot of the bed to give Madame Pomfrey room. Following her example, Hermione did the same to Ron.

"How is he?" Luna asked. Hermione blinked. She had completely forgotten that Luna had been with them.

"He'll be all right," Hermione answered for Ron. Luna nodded and didn't say another word; she just silently watched as Madame Pomfrey began to administer the foul-smelling green potion ointment to Bill's wounds.

Ron's elbow nudged Hermione in the ribs. "Hey. You okay?" Hermione looked at him, uncertain where that question had come from. "I never asked before," he explained in an undertone. "Why were you up here--you didn't have any trouble with Snape?"

"Oh, no," Hermione said, a little surprised that Ron looked honestly worried, as if Snape would have actually attacked her. "Flitwick collapsed and we brought him up, that's all. He's already been released," she added when Ron's eyes flicked around to find their Charms professor. "He just fainted."

"Oh." Ron didn't say anything else, his eyes back on his brother. Slowly and hesitantly, one of his fingers flicked out towards her and uncertainly wrapped around hers to guide her hand to his. He had been grabbing her hand a great deal lately, but somehow this was different. He hadn't been thinking in those moments. This was deliberate gesture to show her that no matter how much they rowed or how many other girls he snogged, she was the one he needed by his side right now. She was the only one who could help him through this. Hermione pressed her palm against his to show that that was quite all right with her. She just hoped he was as comforted by the gesture as she was. Silently, they watched Bill together, even almost breathing in unison as they waited for Madame Pomfrey to tell them more and for Harry to come back and tell them everything that had happened to him throughout this horrible night.

Perhaps Hermione was right. Perhaps in some ways, the trio was growing up away from each other. But in other ways, in the most important ways, they were growing closer than they could ever imagine.