Rating:
PG-13
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Hermione Granger Ron Weasley
Genres:
Romance Action
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 03/17/2004
Updated: 05/16/2004
Words: 108,050
Chapters: 16
Hits: 62,042

Hermione Granger and the Time of Troubles

Ann Margaret

Story Summary:
Ron and Hermione have been together for almost five months now...and haven't told a soul. The war is raging on, Harry is as moody as ever, Malfoy is acting strange--can their relationship stand the test of a troubled time? A much darker, action-packed fic--sequel to Hermione Granger and the Order of the Phoenix.

Chapter 11

Chapter Summary:
The aftermath: Christmas at Grimmauld Place once again, but without Ron. How will our heroes cope? And are they ever going to find a way to get him back?
Posted:
04/25/2004
Hits:
3,292
Author's Note:
Hey all, sorry this took such a long time to post! It's finals week so it may take a bit of time for the next chapter too but after May 5th, I'm going to have a lot more time, so yay!


Hermione Granger for the first time in her life understood exactly what it was like to be Harry Potter. She knew firsthand what it was like to have all eyes in the room stare at her with a mixture of disbelief, horror, and pity; she had the full knowledge of what it felt like to know that something she did had catalyzed the deaths of two people and put countless others at risk. Her actions and reckless behavior had lost two people their lives, put two other people in the hospital, blown the cover of their most successful undercover agent, and had obliterated the trust the Order had once had for her, not to mention the trepidation and uncertainty Harry and the Weasleys would undoubtedly now feel for her. She could communicate with Ron, yes, but she was also a device for Voldemort himself to manipulate. The skin on Hermione's skull crawled with the realization that the evilest sorcerer in the world had been in her, poking and prodding away at the innermost workings of her mind. Hermione also understood why Harry hated Occlumency so much; now the concept of someone delving into her mind sickened her.

Now that she understood how Harry felt at times, she also came to understand why he acted the way he did. Ginny and George appeared to have wanted to try to talk to her about it, but thank goodness Harry had stopped them. He knew what she needed: space. If anyone tried to speak with her, she knew she would blow up at them just like Harry often did. So she had found refuge in Buckbeak's room and had passed the hours absently tossing scraps and bones at the hippogriff. Buckbeak had attempted to engage Hermione in a game of some sort but had backed off when he sensed her foul mood. Now he was curled up in the corner, napping and trying to ignore the endless stream of bone shards and hunks of meat that Hermione continued to inattentively toss in his direction.

Voldemort had been in her.

Hermione shuddered--she didn't think this was ever going to become less disturbing.

"Get a grip," she whispered to herself out loud in an attempt to motivate herself to leave the refuge of the room. "They'll understand--Harry and Ginny have had Voldemort in their minds too and their experiences were loads worse. They survived, and you will too."

The words were not enough to instigate her departure so she quietly brought her knees up and hugged them to her chest. Buckbeak let out a little moan of relief as he sensed that the deluge of scraps had ceased. Hermione watched the hippogriff sleep while biting her lip. She was not going to cry. Her head dropped to her knees and she let out a long sigh, wishing that a certain person was there to put his arm around her or stroke her hair and tell her that everything was going to be alright.

Harry had been wrong. She didn't need space; she needed Ron.

She wanted to feel his presence within her more than anything in the world, but at the same time, she was very relieved that he wasn't there. Because she could no longer trust the voice inside her mind any longer or the sense of a person moving with her--for all she knew, it could be Voldemort again. If he got in once, he certainly could do it again. Hermione knew if Ron attempted to contact her now, she wouldn't have the strength to resist him and that decision could potentially be lethal because it could very well not be Ron again. She no longer could trust herself.

Even if it was him, she didn't think it would be a very good idea to talk to him at the moment. The instant she felt him inside of her, she knew she would fall apart completely and then Ron being the wonderful prat that he was would do his best to console and take care of her when in all reality she should be taking care of him. He was in so much trouble right now and she couldn't thing to help him and it was driving her mad. There had to be a way to bring him home; he had told her in that one dream she had had that he believed in her and he knew she would find a way. Every time they had connected empathically, one of the strongest emotions vibrating from him was his faith in her and Harry; he knew they would be the ones to rescue him.

Too bad that she didn't know that.

Hermione rubbed her eyes wearily. She was at a complete loss. The empath idea had failed miserably. Hedwig hadn't returned. The only thing she had learned from Malfoy was that he was an awful kisser. They still had no idea how the Death Eaters had found out it was a Hogsmeade weekend. She had attempted to location and tracking spells on her own, none of which had worked. Basically, she was a failure at rescuing the boy she loved.

She leaned back against the wall and straightened her legs. Her eyes fell to her watch and her heart lurched at the sight of it.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," she whispered.

**

The Christmas tree in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place was just as beautiful this year as it was the previous year. Hermione didn't know who had aided in the decoration but they had obviously done a very good job. The ornaments sparkled in the dim light the fairies produced, making the tree almost glow with a soft, iridescent radiance. She absently twirled her hair with her free hand as she recalled the fairies breaking loose and wreaking havoc. It had been such a good Christmas that year, despite all of the difficulties in the world. It was hard to believe that the world was in an even worst state and this Christmas was going to be anything but happy. It was also difficult to comprehend that two of the people who had spent so many hours decorating this tree a year ago were quite unable to spend the holidays with their loved ones.

Her increasingly melancholic thoughts were abruptly halted by the doors behind her creaking slowly open to reveal a haggard Mrs. Weasley, clad in her dressing gown and arms full of beautifully wrapped presents. Her weary eyes slowly recognized her son's best friend and managed a smile.

"There you are," Mrs. Weasley said quietly. "We were wondering where you ran off to."

Hermione awkwardly brushed some hair out of her face with her free hand. "Oh, yes, I had some things to think over."

Mrs. Weasley appraised her carefully as she shuffled towards the brilliant Christmas tree. She appeared to want to ask if Hermione was all right, but for once, a Weasley was tactful. "I just wanted to leave these here," She carefully laid down the gifts and began to arrange them very meticulously under the sparkling branches. For a long minute, her fingers gently stroked the sleek surface of one of the gifts. "For when Ronnie gets home," she added in a barely audible voice.

Hermione couldn't help emitting a soft laugh. When Mrs. Weasley looked up inquiringly, Hermione revealed her left hand which had been hidden behind her back. She slightly shook the parcel neatly wrapped in brown paper; she had come to the drawing room for the exact same reason. "Me too."

Mrs. Weasley's laughter was full of suppressed tears and her hand trembled a little as she held out her hand. Hermione handed off the gift and Mrs. Weasley set it down in the perfect location with as much care as she had arranged her own. They both stared down at the words "To Ron," that were scrawled across each present until Mrs. Weasley slowly got back onto her feet. She made as though she was going to walk by Hermione but instead her hand cupped Hermione's cheek so she was forced to look at Mrs. Weasley.

"No one blames you, dear," Her brown eyes burned with the same earnest intensity Hermione had seen so very often in Ron's own eyes. "Don't ever think that." The hand on Hermione's cheek moved backwards to comfortingly smooth Hermione's hair. "You're not going to get him back to me with that attitude."

"Wh--w-what?"

"I usually tell you to stay uninvolved," Mrs. Weasley's voice had a definite waver to it. "I don't want you or Harry or anyone to get mixed up with this because I know how awful the work we do for the Order is and I don't want that for my children." She gently took hold of Hermione's shoulders and stared dead on into her eyes. "But I have to be selfish--I want my Ron back, and I'll take him anyway I can and if that mean you breaking rules and laws, then I don't care." Hermione bit her lip as the tearful, pleading eyes bored straight through her and tugged at her heartstrings. "You would be the last person I'd ask normally because I know you're the one person Ronnie would want to make sure is safe above all others, but I--I-can't help thinking you're also the one person who can bring him home with your--you know," One finger left Hermione's shoulder to gesture to her head.

"But if Vold--You-Know-Who can get in too," Hermione said softly, hating that she had reverted to calling Voldemort You-Know-Who; having him in her mind had brought her to a whole new level of terror.

"You'll find a way," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "I know you will."

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked instinctively but with a small smile of hope nevertheless.

Mrs. Weasley squeezed her shoulders before lowering her hands so her gaze was so intense that Hermione's stomach clenched a bit at the sight of it. "Because no one loves my Ronnie like you do,"

**

"You're up rather late, aren't you?"

Hermione recognized the voice behind her but she didn't turn around. She continued to pour herself a goblet of pumpkin juice. "Couldn't sleep," she finally replied flatly, hoping he would take the hint and back off.

He didn't; being almost unbelievably thick must run in his family. "Are you all right?"

Hermione took a long sip of juice before speaking. "Let me put it this way: take how awful you feel about your brother being in the hands of Voldemort on Christmas, multiply it by a hundred, and that product will answer your question."

Instead of retreating from her sharp tone, he only chuckled and sat down at the kitchen table. "You know, I think Ron is rubbing off on you--I've never known you to be this curt before."

"Well, you don't really know me that well, do you?" Hermione returned edgily. She felt she had to do something so she started to rummage the cabinets for something to eat. She had barely eaten two bites of Christmas dinner earlier that day, and although the idea of eating rather repulsed her, the practical portion of her mind knew that she needed some form of nourishment.

"I didn't think you would be angry with me, too,"

"Yes, well, I admit it; I conformed; I gave in; I joined the Let's-Hate-Percy Club. Learned the secret handshake and everything. We actually hold sessions once everyday for just a quarter of an hour because we don't like to waste our time discussing you, but we do meet twice on Sunday if that makes you feel any better." Hermione found some bread and was almost savagely buttering it. She really didn't understand why Percy was irritating her so much; she had enjoined to Ginny and the twins the other day to remember that he was their brother and to forgive him. But for some reason, just seeing him was causing the bile to rise in her throat that she once thought that Malfoy was solely capable of producing.

She supposed it was because she had just spent the entire Christmas faking a smile and pretending that everything was still somewhat all right. She had to cope with the long, lingering looks in her direction and the whisperings that occurred between Weasleys and Order members that they all thought she couldn't see, but she did. It was just as uncomfortable as she feared and this unease coupled with the pain of spending Christmas not knowing where Ron was just made the whole situation ten times worse. It was no wonder she was lashing out.

She knew she shouldn't be feeling as guilty as she did, but she couldn't help herself. Mrs. Weasley had comforted her greatly that morning, but it wasn't enough. Professor Lupin had tried his hand at reassuring her and she had to admit, he gone about it in the best way possible. He had showed her several books on Occlumency and explained in detail just how exactly Voldemort had been able to get into her mind. It actually had nothing to do with her and Ron's connection. Well, it did in a way--if Voldemort had learned of her mental link with Ron, he knew that her mind was open and receptive to telepathic communication. Almost anyone could actually learn Occlumency; the problem was most people could not channel the energy and magic necessary for that magical ability. Although she didn't possess that sort of talent, the fact that Ron did have empath powers and she was receptive to it made it possible for her to experience types of magic similar to empath communication, such as Occlumency. Because she had been unconsciously opening her mind for Ron, Voldemort had seized the opportunity to cut in instead and thereby manipulate her.

It did make her feel a great deal better to know what Voldemort had done to her, but it still didn't ease any of the guilt. It didn't change the fact that two people were dead, two were hospitalized, one had to remain at Hogwarts for an indefinite amount of time since his cover had been blown, and one was still missing. No wonder it had been such an awful Christmas and she was sniping at anyone who tried to talk to her. How else would they expect her to react?

Before she knew it, Percy had rose and was standing at her side, towering over her. His long fingers closed around her wrist to stop her from decimating her slice of bread. "I miss him just as much as you do," Percy said in a low voice. "Don't take this out on me."

Hermione gulped. She had been projecting her own frustrations onto Percy and although he did deserve it, it wasn't fair to be this cruel to him. He really wasn't that awful. Still, the edgy feeling he was instigating inside of her didn't go away so she gave in to him. She nodded silently to indicate her apologies and Percy studied her for a moment before taking the knife from her hands.

"Let me," he offered. Hermione was starting to feel considerably exhausted so she complied and took the seat he had vacated. Percy glanced at her over his shoulder as he began to concoct a sandwich for her. "I heard about what happened to you this morning," he began, but Hermione didn't let him pursue that topic.

"Percy, please, I don't want to talk about that--it--it's Christmas," She wearily rubbed her eyes; she had had a headache ever since Ron had disappeared and she knew that it would only disappear once he had returned home. "I just want to think about something happy for the moment."

Percy nodded before tilting his head towards the stove. "Tea?"

"Yes, thank you," Percy quickly turned to make the preparations, his back to her as he silently worked. Hermione watched him curiously--if she had been more alert and not as dejected, she would have been asking him loads of questions: where he had been all this time, why he had isolated himself from his family for so long, why had he picked now of all times to play the prodigal son and return home. She knew he had been trying--he had come to Hogwarts in October to talk to Ron and Ginny about returning home--but that didn't stop her sense of unease. Now that her projected, irrational anger towards Percy had faded, all that remained was a tight, clenched, awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps it was because she had no idea what to say to him or she was still subconsciously thinking about Ron, she didn't know; all she knew that if Percy hadn't been cooking for her, she would have made a hasty exit by now.

"So," Percy set a sandwich and mug of hot tea in front of her. "How and when did you finally snag my little brother?"

Hermione had been about to drink her scalding hot tea but she had to quickly lower the mug and gape at Percy. "What?"

"I always knew you and Ron would get together," Percy revealed with a small wink.

"Who told you?" Hermione demanded. Percy's smirk faltered at the outrage on her face. "We only told Harry and Ginny--no one else knows," She eyed him with a suspicious air. "How on earth did you know about us?"

Percy stuttered for a moment before producing a coherent sentence. "Because that night I came to see Ron--I--I just guessed that's all. You were holding hands and all and then you two seemed rather friendly when I came out of the hut..."

Hermione blushed furiously and buried her face in her hands with embarrassment. The beech tree they had ended up under was in plain view of Hagrid's hut. "You saw us?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Percy shifted uncomfortably. "You had left your bag on the stoop and a book must have fallen out so I was putting it away..."

Hermione groaned. She should have known; she specifically remembered setting her Transfiguration text on top of her bag but when she had returned it had somehow been snugly placed inside her satchel. She had been so dazed and worried about Ron that she hadn't been thinking very clearly. "Sorry about that," She still couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"'S alright," Percy told her with a dismissive tone.

Hermione felt the insatiable need to explain why she had behaved so irrationally that night despite Percy's reassurances. "He was rather shaken up about seeing you again," she explained awkwardly. "He was so emotional he could barely see straight; he couldn't even remember clearly what he had even talked to you about so I was just trying to help..."

Percy waited expectantly for her to continue, but for some reason, Hermione halted, her hazel eyes riveted to the tabletop, a plain indication that she was lost in her thoughts. She managed to pull herself out of her daze a few moments later, her cheeks still red and her brow slightly furrowed. "You certainly shook things up that night," she finished lamely, her mind obviously a million miles away. She slowly pushed the bench backwards so she could get to her feet. "Well, I'm off to bed," she lied. "Thanks for the snack,"

"But you didn't even ..." Percy sighed as Hermione sailed out of the kitchen without a second glance at him or her untouched sandwich and tea. "Women," he muttered under his breath before flicking his wand over the dishes to clean them as quickly as possible so he could retreat to the warm cocoon of his bed.

**

"Ginny, wake up!" Hermione shouted loudly as she wrenched open the door to the bedroom she and Ginny were currently sharing. "Ginny!" She came to an abrupt, slightly confused halt when she found that not only was Ginny wide awake, but Harry had been sitting across from her on Hermione's bed, leaning comfortably against the wall. They both straightened up in a flash and stared at her with a mixture of concern, bewilderment, and guilt, inciting a slight degree of suspicion that Hermione hastily brushed aside. They didn't have time for this. "Good, you're up," she said dismissively. She focused intently on Ginny. "I need to see your prefect notes."

Ginny didn't even bother to waste time answering and she crawled to the edge of her bed where her trunk was positioned.

"What notes?" Harry demanded.

"Ginny takes the minutes of all of our prefect meetings," Hermione quickly explained as she tapped her foot impatiently. Ginny had to grope through her crammed trunk for a few minutes until she finally located the necessary scroll. Hermione knew that these notes would be extremely reliable and thus determine if this new theory that was formulating in her whirling mind was correct. Ginny took her job quite seriously; she used a piece of parchment that automatically expanded every time she wrote on it, labored painstakingly with her script to make sure it was perfectly legible, and neatly dated, outlined, and summarized every single prefect meeting.

Harry's eyes widened as he bolted up from the bed so he could kneel in the trunk in front of Ginny and help her search. "Why didn't we think of this before?" he muttered in annoyance.

"Maybe because you didn't ask me to help," Ginny retorted sharply as she extracted the pristine roll from the trunk. She was about to hand off the scroll to Hermione but for some reason, Hermione didn't reach out her hand to take the parchment. Somehow, she couldn't bear to look. This could just be the breakthrough she had been searching for but at the same time, she didn't think she would be able to read it for herself; she wouldn't be able to handle it. She had to let someone else do it. "No, you just read to me--I need to know when Professor McGonagall announced the November Hogsmeade weekend; if I remember correctly, it was some time in October." Ginny squinted slightly as she scanned the parchment for the appropriate entry. Harry positioned himself so he could read over her shoulder while Hermione danced from foot to foot in her anxiety. "Maybe October 18th?"

"No," Ginny said slowly. "No, not that day."

Hermione's stomach plummeted to the depths of the earth with her infinite disappointment. Another stupid plan failed.

"It was the week before," Ginny continued, jabbing her finger in the middle of the parchment. "The October 12th meeting."

She tried to ignore the huge leap of hope that brought her heart up into her mouth. "The 12th? The week before?"

"Yeah," Ginny looked up and handed the scroll over to Hermione. "See for yourself." Harry straightened up and stared at Hermione expectantly. Ginny waited for Hermione to explain herself but she only read the parchment in silence, her mouth set in a hard line, eyes gleaming brilliantly with a variety of emotions.

"So we knew about Hogsmeade on the 18th," Hermione said under her breath.

"Yeah," Ginny repeated a tad louder in an attempt to shake Hermione out of her train of distant thought. Hermione continued to stare down at the scroll and Ginny looked up to Harry for help.

Harry cleared his throat noisily. Dazed, Hermione finally looked up at him. "Hermione, what are you going on about?"

"Give me a minute," Hermione asked in a distant voice as she dropped the parchment so she could go to her own trunk. Harry and Ginny had reached the point of explosion by the time Hermione hastily flipped through one of her numerous books and scanned the entry she had been searching for. She continued to grasp the open book tightly while she spoke. "Okay," Hermione said slowly, still processing several thoughts at once. "Okay, this is going to sound a bit crazy, but hear me out." She paused so she could phrase her thoughts in the most rational way possible. "Well, remember we tried to figure out who must have told the Death Eaters about the Hogsmeade weekend since only the prefects and the faculty knew about it?"

"Yeah," Ginny replied. "We all talked to all the prefects and none of them told."

"Unless they were lying," Harry pointed out.

"And we didn't ask all of the prefects," Hermione added quietly.

Harry's green eyes shot over to Hermione's with shock, knowing exactly what she was insinuating. Ginny still looked slightly perplexed. "No way," Harry said firmly. "Ron?"

Ginny gasped and brought a hand over her mouth. "I don't think he did it on purpose," Hermione quickly corrected. "We found out about the meeting on the 12th, right?" Harry and Ginny both nodded in assent. "And Ginny, remember Percy wrote to you asking you and Ron to meet him a week later?" Another soundless nod from Ginny signaled her agreement. Harry was starting to clench his fists and jaw in a way that Hermione had seen too many times: whenever he was about to unleash his fury.

"I went with Ron," Hermione revealed. "Percy took us to Hagrid's hut--he claimed he had Hagrid's permission--and he asked me to wait outside so he could talk to Ron alone." She swallowed hard. If she was right, she was going to have to deal with a whole new level of guilt. "He was only in there for about ten minutes but when he came out he could barely speak--he said that he was so angry that he couldn't even remember what Percy had said to him," She shook her head at the memory; why hadn't she seen it before? "He was so incoherent; I'd never seen him like that before--he was an emotional wreck."

Harry by this point was one step ahead of her and was already at her side so he could inspect the open book in her arms. Ginny scooted to her feet so she could join him.

"Veritaserum?" Harry offered as he pointed to the heading on the bottom of the page.

"That doesn't cause the incoherency he experienced or the emotional vulnerability," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "One of the lesser truth serums, however..." she trailed off as Ginny and Harry leaned in to read the passage she was indicating: the one that listed possible side effects. "With all the emotions truth serums bring to the surface," Hermione summarized, "people who are under the influence of truth serums can often be very emotional and vulnerable and honestly, Ron was so upset that he cried and he's never cried in front of me,"

"Me either," Harry said quietly. Their eyes met and Hermione could tell from the gleam in his green eyes that he was convinced that her theory was correct.

"No..." Ginny said faintly as she stepped back.

"I'm not saying this is how it happened--I'm just saying it could have happened," Hermione quickly reassured her. "And it certainly all seems to fit."

"So, you think Percy is the one who found out the date of the Hogsmeade weekend?" Harry said in a slow, forced calm voice. "Which would mean that Percy's in contact with Death Eaters."

"Or under Imperius," Hermione suggested.

"Right," Harry conceded. "But we've got to find out for sure."

"How?"

"Which room is he staying in?" Harry demanded. Hermione shrugged to indicate her inability to answer his question, so Harry turned to Ginny. He opened his mouth to repeat his request, but a very different sentence came out of his mouth after catching the expression on Ginny's face. "Ginny, are you okay?"

Ginny didn't answer until Harry's hand shook her shoulder. She started sharply, jerking away from his touch, her face pale and eyes over-bright. "Yeah--fine--it's just--that--it's Percy," Hermione's heart went out to her friend; not only did Ginny have to endure the pain of losing one of her brothers, now she had to cope with the possibility that another one of her brothers could have been responsible for the disappearance. But Ginny Weasley always pulled through and the next words she spoke clearly conveyed her determination and courage.

"So how the hell are we going to find out for sure?"

**

"Okay," Hermione glanced at her watch for the millionth time in the past five minutes. "Okay, I think he might be awake by now--we should try again."

"I dunno," Ginny said doubtfully but she got to her feet anyway. "Percy can sleep pretty damn late."

"Only one way to find out," Harry said with grim optimism as he checked to make sure that the Invisibility Cloak was secure in his school bag; if anyone asked, he was going to claim to be finding a quiet place to catch up on the schoolwork he missed due to his suspension. "Shall we?" He held the door open for Ginny and Hermione and the three cautiously made their way up two floors to Percy's room. Ginny walked ahead while Harry and Hermione ducked into the vacant room across from Percy's. Ginny waited until the two of them were in position before timidly knocking on Percy's door.

"Percy? It's Ginny--can I come in?"

Hermione held her breath as they waited for a response. Ginny was going to lure Percy out of the sanctity of his room under the pretense of discussing the possibility of rebuilding their relationship. While they were gone, Hermione was going to act as a look-out while Harry searched the contents of Percy's room for a sign of Death Eater obligations.

"Hermione?" Harry muttered. She glanced up at him to find that he wasn't looking at her; his eyes were fastened to the door to Percy's room. He must have sensed her eyes on him, though, because he continued on as if he knew she was listening.

"This isn't your fault."

Hermione let out a disbelieving but relieved breath. "It feels like it,"

"I know," And he did; he really did. He knew exactly how awful this guilt felt, and for that, Hermione felt a humongous rush of gratitude for Harry's presence in her life. "But you know better than anyone from putting up with me that it isn't,"

Hermione sighed. She knew that too: from years of being Harry's friend that whatever that had happened to him wasn't his fault. Now the roles had reversed. In an odd, twisted way, it was almost a good thing; now Hermione could finally understand Harry a bit better and cater to his needs and vice versa. This tragedy could be the salvation of their rocky friendship.

His eyes still on the closed door, Harry's hand quickly came down to pause comfortingly on Hermione's tense shoulder. She smiled at the gesture; yes, Harry was finally learning just what she needed.

Ginny turned towards the doorway they were crouching in with a shrug. "I don't think he's there," she hissed.

Harry nodded and began to open his schoolbag. "Well, we could try..." He trailed off as he glanced up to see Ginny's hand on the doorknob. "Wait," he ordered in a low voice. "Wait for the cloak!"

But Ginny had never taken orders from anyone and roughly shoved the door open. "Percy?" Harry lunged outwards to follow, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Wait," she whispered. "It makes sense for Ginny to barge in--she's his sister!"

Ginny gasped as she finished surveying the room and she whirled around once again but this time did not bother to lower her voice. "All his stuff is gone!"

"WHAT?" Harry jerked out of Hermione's hold and the two teenagers charged in after Ginny. Sure enough, all that remained in the small bedroom was the large four-poster bed, dresser, wardrobe, and night stand. Ginny was yanking open some of the drawers to discover they had all been emptied. She angrily shoved the dresser closed and brushed crimson curls off of her flushed cheeks before focusing on Harry.

"What now?" she demanded.

"We find out where he went," Harry said promptly. He strode out of the bedroom with the two girls at his heels. Hermione followed him down the stairs to the basement; it was near lunchtime so Mrs. Weasley was apt to be in the kitchen, making preparations. But Harry didn't head towards the kitchen; instead, he made a beeline in the opposite direction towards the large room that the Order used for meetings. A low drone of voices indicated that there was a meeting in session. Harry made as though he wished to press his ear to the door but Hermione quickly stopped him. With a quick Summoning charm, the Extendable Ear Fred and George had given her for her birthday last year landed neatly in her hand. They clamored a safe distance away just to be on the safe side and managed to eavesdrop on the conversation just in time.

"When did the letter arrive?"

"I just got it," Mr. Weasley responded, sounding incredibly flustered and out of breath. "Apparated home as soon as the owl arrived."

"Did you confiscate the owl?"

"Left it to Perkins to take care of it," Mr. Weasley said. "What are we going to do?"

"You can't resign, Arthur; you're the best thing for the Ministry right now."

"But if it got Ronnie back..."

"No, Molly."

"When's the deadline?"

"Next week--they want me to make the announcement at the annual New Year's Eve Ball," Mr. Weasley let out a bitter laugh. "Ring in the new year with my resignation."

"Then you'll be at that ball--we'll make them think that we've agreed and then someone who knows about your son's location will be there to deliver. We'll find them and pounce before the clock strikes midnight. If all goes as planned, your son will be home before the new year begins."

"How are we going to manage that?"

"We'll chart out the plan later--right now we need to discuss what to do about the children."

"What about them?"

"Do we tell them?"

"No; this is strictly Order business."

"But it's about Ron..."

"No, Molly!"

"You can't lie to them, Alastor," Lupin's even voice of reason spoke up for the first time. "They're going to realize that we're up to something when they see us at battle stations at the ball."

"Wait, they're attending that ball?"

"Potter shouldn't leave this house!"

"Oh, and Harry staying alone in a house at night is perfectly safe?"

"Of course he is; the Fidelius Charm is unbreakable unless Dumbledore divulges!"

"Besides, he's not going to be alone--the other children will be there."

"They're not children, Kingsley." Lupin sounded rather nostalgic at his statement. "Hermione is of age now and she can do as she pleases and I believe that Arthur and Molly have already consented for Ginny to attend."

"We want the whole family there when Ron comes home," Molly's voice had a definite quiver in it. "So Harry and Hermione should be there."

"It will also be good for our image if we reiterate your family values, Arthur."

"You two are coming aren't you?"

"Please, would it be a party if Gred and Forge didn't come?"

"This isn't a party, Fred; this is an important social function..."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it."

"And Percy is going to come back to London for it, isn't he?"

"Yes, Molly, I asked him this morning."

"What about Bill? I know Charlie won't be able to..."

"He hasn't responded to the invitation just yet,"

There was plenty more to eavesdrop on, but Harry jerked the string out of his ear and Hermione and Ginny quickly followed suit at the expression on his face. Hermione had seen this face several times in her life: right before jumping through the trapdoor, while they were sneaking through the Shrieking Shack searching for Ron, whenever he went up against Malfoy in the corridor or the Slytherins in Quidditch, during the search through the Department of Mysteries, and most recently, when Ron had disappeared. She knew exactly what it meant and although her stomach always twisted with trepidation at the sight of it, a slight surge of hope also flooded her senses.

"This is it," he said firmly. "Percy'll be at this ball thing and that's where we'll get him."

"How?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"I don't know," Harry raked a concerned hand through his hair in agitation. "Haven't figured that out yet."

"We will," Hermione quietly reassured him. Harry shot her a sideways glance and gave her a smile. It always made him feel much better to know that Hermione Granger was on his side.

"We sure will," Ginny reiterated forcefully. Her brown eyes bored in Harry as if daring him to challenge her involvement as he did the last time she had forced her way into one of their adventures.

"Count us in, too," The three turned in surprise to find Fred and George leaning against the door frame. Fred continued to speak while George quietly closed the door behind them so they wouldn't be overheard or seen by Order members. "And don't try to make us stick our noses elsewhere because this is our dolt of a brother we're trying to rescue and besides," Fred gave them a very self-satisfied grin. "I don't think the Order will like to know that you lot was spying on them."

"We weren't spying," Ginny protested. "We were simply wandering along, minding our own business when we heard raised voices..."

"Oh, well, then I shouldn't have moved my chair to hide that flesh colored string that slid under the door." George shrugged at Fred. "I mean, I thought it was my dear little sister and her friends trying to get some news and I decided to help them out by making sure no one else found out, but I suppose it was just some sort of worm or something, right, Fred?"

"Guess so," Fred replied in an even tone.

"You used those ears all the time--you invented them!" Ginny argued, her cheeks starting to turn bright red with irritation.

Harry noticed the danger sign of a Weasley blow-up and quickly interceded. "It's fine; we could use all the help we can get."

"Can I just ask if there's a reason you aren't letting the Order handle this?" George asked with mock sternness. "Or are we just being sneaky for the hell of it?"

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione all exchanged trepidation glances. Somehow, Hermione was silently voted the one who had to break the news and with a sigh, she forged ahead. "We think Percy may have something to do with Ron's disappearance."

For once in their lives, Fred and George Weasley were rendered speechless.

"And why do we think that?" Fred finally spoke.

"Why do we think that?" Ginny demanded to Hermione.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, trying to coherently express her theory. "It's a new policy at Hogwarts to keep Hogsmeade weekends strictly between faculty and prefects until the morning of the excursion in order to ensure nothing like what happened would happen," She wrung her hands nervously as she started to pace. "So someone at Hogwarts had to let it slip when the Hogsmeade weekend was. We looked at Ginny's notes from prefect meetings and the week after the prefects were informed the date of the November Hogsmeade weekend, Percy visited Ron." Fred and George both stiffened in surprise; apparently not many people knew of Percy's trip to Hogwarts. "Only Percy and Ron know what happened, but all I know is that Ron was really emotionally shaken up--his symptoms were similar to those under the influence of truth serum."

"And this is all we're really going on?" Fred asked after Hermione paused. "Ron could have just been a git about the whole thing and overreacted."

"I know," Hermione conceded. "I know it's weak and full of flaws and that's part of the reason why I don't think we should go to the Order. They're already a bit distrusting of me lately--I don't think they would believe me. But anyway," She glanced over at Harry, "I can't explain why I think Percy could be involved--it's just this feeling I get around him--he makes me feel a bit uneasy..." Hermione gasped slightly as she suddenly realized something, "and he knew that Ron and I were dating so Ron must have told him, because I really didn't believe him when he explained himself, but Ron wouldn't have told anyone because he was the one who wanted to keep it a secret, so that could be another indication that Ron was under the influence of some sort of truth potion..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Fred held up his hand to stop Hermione. Hermione suddenly remembered what she had let slip and groaned. She was never going to hear the end of this.

"You and Ron?"

George slapped her affectionately on the shoulder. "'Bout time you became one of us,"

"So when's the wedding?" Fred asked with wide, mocking eyes.

Hermione groaned again and buried her face in her hands. Sorry Ron. She half-way expected to hear an irritated quip in her mind but there was only disconcerting silence. Hermione bit the inside of her lip--Voldemort couldn't have been in her mind all of the times she and Ron had connected; it was possible to solely link herself to Ron. The fact that she couldn't meant that something was very, very wrong.

"When did the two of you start up?"

She vaguely remembered that other people were in the room and that annoying fact caused her response to be with a bitterer tone than she intended. "That's none of your business," Hermione snapped, dropping her hands from her blushing cheeks.

"Well, actually it is," Fred explained. "We've to make sure the right person gets the kitty,"

"The kitty?" Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Fred was starting to snicker and George was valiantly trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably--clear signs that the twins had been up to something once again. "Did you place bets on us?!"

"Of course," George said matter-of-factly. "It was September 19th this year, wasn't it--tell me it was September 19th!"

"No, no, it was Halloween, right, Hermione," Fred jumped in gleefully.

"July 1st?" Ginny spoke up sheepishly. She simply shrugged when Hermione whirled on her in surprise. "Hey, a girl has to earn her keep somehow,"

Hermione let out a discontented huff. "Well, Harry, I'm glad you were mature enough to distance yourself from this idiocy," She gave the twins a glare but they only doubled over with a fresh bout of laughter. Ginny joined in while Harry turned pink and coughed uncomfortably. He wouldn't look at Hermione, but gazed up at the ceiling, clearly ill at ease, and Hermione knew what he had done.

"Didn't you know--Harry placed the most recent bet," George revealed amidst his chuckles. "He just didn't say anything because he knows he didn't win--he said sometime in your seventh-year,"

"February 7th of 7th year," Harry interjected. He held up his hands in mock surrender when the Granger death-glare was cast in his direction, but before Hermione could unleash her wrath, Ginny jumped in.

"Can we get back to business--I don't think anyone will be winning any money unless we get half of the happy couple back home,"

"So, Percy's evil, eh?" George asked bluntly, giving Hermione his undivided attention.

"I don't know if he's evil," Hermione admitted. "He may be under Imperius or some other sort of charm that manipulates his actions. He may not be acting of his own free will."

"And there is no way we can prove this, is there?" Ginny's tone was heavily disappointed but with a dash of skepticism--she still wasn't fully convinced of her brother's guilt.

"Well--no," Hermione sighed.

There was a long pause.

"You do realize how flimsy this is?" Fred asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied sadly. She wished they had a more concrete plan or theory or anything that would help them find Ron, but it just didn't seem to exist. She was going to have to rely on gut-instinct and intuition rather than logic and common sense. It was rather frightening for a practical-minded girl like Hermione Granger, but if it got Ron back, Hermione would be willing to do almost anything--hell, she had already kissed Malfoy in an attempt to bring her prat home.

"But it fits," Harry said firmly. All eyes immediately turned to him as he continued. "I don't know what it is, but it's this feeling I get whenever I'm around Percy--really edgy and alert, you know?" The four blank pair of eyes indicated that they didn't, so he quickly applied a metaphor. "Like how you feel before a match against Slytherins," Ginny, Fred, and George all nodded in understanding, and Harry then glanced to Hermione. "Or how you feel before O.W.L.s." Harry folded his arms over his chest, eyes on the floor as his thoughts poured out. "It's like I sense danger whenever Percy's around--like I have to constantly be on guard whenever he's there."

"You have been acting funny around him," Ginny commented quietly so she wouldn't break Harry's train of thought.

"And there are similarities," Harry said slowly. "Odd similarities between him and..." He pressed his lips together as if he was about to say a name, but he for some reason hesitated. His eyes darted over to Ginny for a millimeter of a second before he spoke again, "future Death Eaters. I mean, he's really ambitious--I remember Ron said one time that he thought Percy would sell out his own family if it would get him into the Ministry or something." Everyone cringed at Harry's statement; Ron's prediction appeared to have come true.

"I trust my instincts and I trust Hermione's judgment," Harry concluded. "I think Percy's up to something. I don't know if he knows anything about Ron, but it's not going to hurt to try to find out." His piercing green eyes penetrated all the others until he received their silent assent to help in anyway possible. "Right, now, Hermione, how long does it take to make one of those truth potions?"

Hermione's mind hastily flipped through the pages of her potions textbook. "A minimum of a couple of days--the longer it takes the brew, the stronger it is."

"Good." Harry next turned to the Weasleys. "Now, if Percy was going to open up to anyone, who would it be?"

"Ginny," Fred and George chorused.

Harry and Ginny both blinked with surprise. "It doesn't have to be one of us--I meant anyone at all," Harry quickly clarified.

"Ginny," Fred repeated definitely. "She's his favorite."

Harry shot another look in Ginny's direction. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," George answered. "She only made fun of him behind his back--he thinks she worships the ground he walks on."

"You want me to be the one to give him the potion?" Ginny asked Harry. She still looked shocked, but her determination was kicking in and Harry knew better than to contradict her although his rigid posture revealed that he wanted to refuse her attempt to help.

"Yeah," Harry turned back to Hermione. "And you can make that potion?"

Hermione nodded. "I have most of my supplies and if not, I can ask Professor Lupin or Tonks."

"Right," Harry looked rather uncomfortable but he hid it as best he could. "So we can give it to him at this ball thing..."

"Why not sooner?" George suggested. "Ginny could owl him and say she wants to talk or something."

Harry shook his head. "It'll be safer at a Ministry ball--the more people around, the safer Ginny'll be."

"I don't think he's going to try to cart me off to You-Know-Who," Ginny snorted in cold disbelief.

"I don't think so either, but then again I didn't think my visions of Voldemort could be used against me, but they were," Harry retorted in such a sharp voice that he actually silenced Ginny Weasley. "Besides," he continued in a softer tone, "Percy's friends could be there too and one of them should know where Ron is."

Hermione and the others nodded in silent agreement and there was another long pause as all five of them became lost in their thoughts, wondering if in a few short days, they may have captured the person who was responsible for Ron's disappearance. Hermione's heart sung with hope as the thought and she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her arms comfortingly around her torso, imagining it was Ron's strong arms hugging her rather than her own scrawny limbs. But who knows--maybe she would be feeling the sensation of his skin against hers, the sound of his voice, the thrill that shivered up and down her spine whenever he was around in a few days. It was possible.

Hermione knew they had a long way to go before this plan could be enacted, but at least they finally had a plan. A hopeful, determined, genuine smile crossed her pale face; they had concocted several different plans before this one, but none had instilled her with this sense of hope before. She didn't know how she knew, she didn't know why this flimsy plan was going to be her salvation; all she knew was that it was exactly the solution they had been looking for. There was no doubt about it in her mind; they were finally going to get Ron back.


Author notes: Thanks so much! Once again, in case you didn't see the note at the top, it'll take a while for the next installment due to finals and check out my Yahoo group! (web address in the Header author notes)

Next up: The Ministry Ball...what does Percy know...