A Conspiracy

A Conspiracy

Ron and Hermione were bickering mutedly as they strode out of the center of Chipping Cleghorn, their mission complete. They should have been relieved--theirs was both the most tricky of the three quests that had precipitated this trip into the past, and the one that had set the dateline: twenty-two years back from their own seventh year at Hogwarts.

Hermione carried in her bag a small vile of blood that she and Ron had drawn--with only slight fudging of the facts and a great show of cooperation--from Benjy Fenwick, who was due to die hours later at the hands of a band of Death Eaters.

They had done all of this with great ease, being very careful not to break any of the restrictions laid down by Professors Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick. As Ron had pointed out, Hermione had lived with the paradoxes of time travel for over a year without managing to spark a global disaster, and they had kept the sick dread of Benjy's impending death from overwhelming them. They'd even surreptitiously administered the Pain-free Potion that Professor Snape had provided to make Fenwick's death less horrible.

They weren't relieved however. They were arguing.

"Ron, we've got to tell him," Hermione hissed. "I can't lie to him any more."

"Hermione, c'mon. If we were going to come clean we should have done it years ago. Now would be... cruel."

"Crueler than hiding the truth?"

"With all that he's lost--that we've all lost, right?--in the last few years, do you think he could take us just walking up to him and saying..."

Hermione gave an exasperated growl, and Ron closed his mouth. There was a point past which even he wasn't willing to push Hermione. They walked silently, their hands stuffed in their pockets.

A boxy grey car zoomed by, windows rolled down, radio playing loudly. "We could be heroes..."

After a few minutes, as they were reaching the edge of the village, Hermione slipped her hand into Ron's pocket and laced her fingers through his. "When we started all of this, the two of you weren't talking," she said, quietly. "It was that stupidity the two of you got into over the Tri-Wizard thing. I didn't feel like I could tell Harry--he'd have felt I was taking sides. And then you got all stupid over the Yule Ball and wouldn't ask me until you were sure Harry was going to ask someone else and I was so ticked off at you..."

"You went with Krum. Don't remind me. You rubbed my nose in that long enough," Ron muttered.

Hermione mouth twisted in a wicked smile that was the only clue to her very well hidden mischievous side. "Paid you back, didn't I?"

Ron grunted.

"Ron," Hermione said, "the thing is, he's going to find out eventually."

"Don't you think I know that?" Ron grumbled. "I've been dreading telling him ever since about two seconds after the first time we kissed..."

Hermione's eyebrow arched.

"Well," Ron said, beginning to smile, "maybe more like twenty minutes after the first time we kissed." Then he scowled. "I love you, Hermione. But I love Harry, too--not the same way, mind, I don't want you to get any funny ideas in that twisted head of yours..."

"Twisted head of mine?" Hermione yelped.

"You're the one who said you had... you know, fantasies about Fred and George?" Ron pulled a face, and Hermione gave a throaty laugh that reminded Ron just how far down the path from childhood they had walked together, he and Hermione. "But, 'Mione, you know what I mean: I love him. Next to you and my family, he's the person I care for most in the world. How can I turn to my best mate and just say, 'Oi, I know you haven't noticed, Harry, but your two best friends have been snogging in stairwells for the last three years.'"

Hermione squeezed Ron's hand, still in his pocket. "You really think he doesn't suspect?"

"I know it. He's been so caught up in the DA, and Sirius and Dumbledore's deaths, and everything that he knows he's got to do to defeat You-Know..."

"Just say it, Ron."

Ron blanched. "Easy for you: you didn't grow up watching people cast Aversion charms every time anyone said... Voldemort." Ron gave a shallow sigh and went on. "But Harry's barely looked at a girl since that disaster with Cho. I kept hoping that he and Ginny would finally hook up..."

"Yes, you were very subtle about that, weren't you?" Hermione teased.

"Oh, come on, you know they like each other. They're just... Well, she's been seeing Dean since fifth year, and Harry... He hasn't talked to me about a girl since then. You?" Ron gave her a hard stare.

Hermione thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"So there's only two possibilities, okay? 'Cause I'm pretty certain he doesn't like boys. Either he's so preoccupied that he can't even let himself think about girls." Ron let out a much deeper sigh. "Or the girl he's thinking about is you and he doesn't want to hurt my feelings."

Hermione's face fell. "Oh, Ron! You don't think..."

"Well," he said, looking at her very seriously, "it's possible, isn't it?"

Hermione began to blush--not a bright red blush like a Weasley. Hers was blotchy and dark. "Ron, I... I never even thought he might..."

Ron shrugged again. "So that's why I haven't wanted to say anything. 'Cause it might not just be that we lied to him, you know. He might feel really, really betrayed. And I don't think I could do that to him just now."

Hermione put her free hand up to her cheek and nodded. They walked on in silence, watched by a small herd of brown and white cows.

"I think this is a safe place," Ron said, when they reached a clump of ancient oaks. "No one'll hear us Apparate from here."

Hermione nodded, took her hand from Ron's pocket, reached up, and gave Ron a long, deep kiss. When they parted, she searched his face and asked, "Are we betraying him?"

He shrugged.

"I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley," she said.

"But you love him, too, Hermione Jane Granger." She began to blush again. Ron nodded. "Yeah, well, so do I. It's just less complicated for me. Look, once this thing with Volde... Voldemort is done, then we tell him, okay?"

Hermione gave a quiet nod, and the two of them Disapparated with a loud pop.