Iuga Sortis (Bound By Destiny)

Thirteen

His back was to her as she entered the room. It was Christmas, but there seemed little to celebrate after what had happened over the past few days.

"Ron?" she called gently, her voice sounding piercing even to her ears, though it was no louder than a whisper.

He did not budge.

She closed the door to keep the noise of the twins singing loudly from downstairs. "Ron, why don't you come downstairs? Your mum's been looking for you," she said as she walked further into the room. He still did not answer, but she heard him sniffle.

He was crying.

"Oh Ron," she sighed and walked quickly to him. Hermione hugged him from behind, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek on top of his head. Ron cried harder at her tenderness.

"He could've died, Hermione," he croaked.

She shook her head against his. "But he didn't. Your father was in good spirits when we saw him today; he'll be fine."

"But if it hadn't been for Harry . . ." Ron trailed off, his tears coming in earnest then. Hermione felt tears prick her own eyes, and she held the weeping boy tighter. "Of course Harry would save your father. He practically considers you family!" Hermione reminded him. "He wouldn't let anything to Mr. Weasley or anyone else. Remember he saved your sister three years ago from the Chamber of Secrets?"

Ron stood at that, angry all of a sudden. "That's exactly my point, Hermione! Harry's the only one who can save us! I can't do anything, anything!" Ron began to pace in distress. "I should've known something was wrong with Ginny during second year; I could not have known my father had been attacked. I couldn't do any of those things. What kind of brother and son am I when I can't even protect my family?" He kicked over a chair, and Hermione jumped, startled by his behavior.

"Ron, that's not fair!"

"Isn't it? I couldn't even protect you from being Petrified! That really scared me, Hermione. I was afraid I lost you! Afraid I wouldn't be able to tell you how special you were to me, because you'd never be cured," Ron moaned.

Hermione's eyes were wide, and her mouth moved before any sound could come out. "I'm--I'm special to you?" she asked timidly.

Ron's countenance softened, and he turned to face her. His eyes were still red from crying, and his cheeks were flushed.

He was beautiful.

"Of course you are! You're my best friend, Hermione! Harry's, of course, like a brother to me, but you, you're just so very special," he said sincerely.

Hermione flew to him and hugged him tight. "You're special to me too, Ron," she breathed into his chest. It was broader than she remembered it to be and more solid. Quidditch practice was doing wonders to his physique. She felt his hands come to her hair and caress slowly.

"Thank you for making me feel better," he whispered.

"That is what friends do," Hermione said as she pulled away.

He looked sad again. "Then I must be a pretty lousy friend, because all I ever seem to do is make you cry."

Hermione shook her head, but he cradled her face, stilling its movement. "You're not a lousy friend, Ron. I don't know how many people would throw up slugs for me," she teased.

"Harry would," he said.

"Yes, he would," Hermione conceded.

"He'd do that and so much more." He dropped his hands and backed away from her. "Maybe it's better if I'm not around him anymore. All I seem to do is drag him down. I couldn't help him when he faced Voldemort during first year; I had to baby-sit Lockhart our second year; I broke my leg trying to rescue Scabbers third year; and I wasn't old enough or good enough to be with him during the Triwizard Tournament last year!"

Hermione's eyes hardened. "Shut up right now, Ronald Weasley! Stop your sulking!"

"What for? I'm only telling the truth."

She marched up to Ron and yanked him down forcefully. He yelped, but her lips muffled the sound. She tasted the tears he'd cried, and her heart ached again. She broke away slowly.

"Hermione--"

"Don't you ever say something like that again! You are good enough. In fact, you're better than enough," she whispered against his lips.

"Hermi--"

"Harry is not a meter stick by which you measure your worth, Ron, so just bloody stop it!" she seethed, shaking him a bit.

"Yes, Mum." She felt his lips curve into a smile at that, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. Hermione shivered at the contact. "Cold?"

She shook her head. "No." She shivered again.

He chuckled. "I think you're lying, Miss Granger. Methinks you should be properly punished, hmm?" he said huskily.

She looked at him askance. "What are you on about, Ron?"

"Your punishment." He kissed her softly. This one lasted longer, and both seemed reluctant to break it.

"Was that it?" she asked with a coy smile.

"I reckon. You haven't really been all that naughty, Hermione. We need to work on that," he said with a wink. She turned beet red, and Ron laughed. Hermione liked the sound of it. She'd never noticed these things until now--his deeper voice, his taller frame, his muscular build. Hermione looked at her friend in a new light, and she fell in love all over again.

"Oh dear," she murmured; her eyes went wide.

Ron looked concerned. "What's wrong?" She made to leave his arms, but Ron was having none of that. He tightened his arms around her waist to prevent her flight.

"We have to go back downstairs, Ron; your mum might be worried."

"We're fine," Ron insisted. "Besides, I think you need punishment again, for trying to leave my arms without permission."

Hermione sighed, exasperated yet excited. "Oh come off it, Ron! I was sent up here to summon you, not snog you!"

"You started it," he reminded her with a grin.

"And now I end it," she mumbled and stared down at her feet.

He gently lifted her chin with his forefinger.

"But I don't want it to end," he whispered, bending and kissing her again.

Ginny sat in a corner of the drawing room, watching the twins and Sirius dance drunkenly and sing horribly off-key.

"Dear Merlin," Ginny muttered, rubbing her temples to alleviate their throbbing. She closed her eyes.

"Gin."

"What?"

She did not open her eyes, and she heard an exasperated sigh.

"May I speak with you?"

"About?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Voldemort."

Ginny still did not open her eyes. "What for? You seem to know everything about him."

She heard him sigh again.

"Ginny, please," he said plaintively.

Ginny groaned, finally opening her eyes. Harry's face was drawn and pensive, much older than his fifteen years.

"Not here. Let's go in my room."

He nodded, and they slipped unheeded from the room. They didn't say anything as they climbed the stairs, leaving Ginny to realize that had this happened a year ago, she would've been ecstatic.

Now she felt like she was letting one of her brothers in her room.

"Huh." She chuckled out loud.

"What was that?" she heard him ask from behind her.

"I was just thinking how in the past I would've never had the courage to speak to you, much less invite you to my room," she said as she opened the door. Harry turned scarlet and brushed past her into the room, sitting on the bed with his hands on his thighs. She sniggered. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Potter! I didn't mean it like that!"

He sputtered in embarrassment, before giving in and laughing himself. "Thanks, Gin, I needed to laugh."

She smiled kindly. "We all do. It's been a trying holiday season so far."

"Try a whole year," Harry muttered. She went and sat down beside him, taking his hand in hers. She squeezed comfortingly, and he returned the gesture.

"Do you ever have nightmares, Gin?" he asked after a moment.

"I used to, but they've subsided a bit."

"Even now, since Voldemort's return?" he asked incredulous.

Ginny gave a half smile. "Admittedly, I used to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion to help me through it, but lately I've had little use for it."

"Why didn't I think of that potion?" he moaned.

She squeezed his hand again. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Harry. You have a lot on your mind. It helps to talk about it."

"Did you talk to someone?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Angelina's mum in fact. She's a therapist, you know."

He shook his head. "But isn't Angelina's mum Muggle?"

"Yeah, but she's in the Order, in a matter of speaking; both of Angelina's parents are."

"I didn't know they allowed Muggles in the Order."

"Well, not technically, but the goal is to defeat Voldemort, and since many of his targets are Muggles, it only makes sense to make some of them allies. Most of the Muggles are parents or relatives or witches and wizards--folks who already know about our world," Ginny explained.

"How do you know all of this?" he asked, clearly impressed.

"I have my ways." She winked. He laughed. There was a companionable silence that followed, Ginny absently rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Is that why you stopped liking me? Because of him?"

There was no need for Ginny to ask who "him" was.

"That was part of it." His face fell at that, and Ginny spoke quickly to explain. "I realized then it could never work between us, especially after the Triwizard Tournament."

"Because I'm a target for Voldemort," he answered bitterly.

Ginny shook her head. "No," she insisted. "It's because I've come to love you like a brother. The concern I felt for you was the same concern I'd feel for Ron or Charlie, or any other of my brothers. Any romantic notions I felt for you drifted away."

"And they drifted to Malfoy, I see."

Ginny started. "How did you--did Hermione tell you?" she asked, her voice hardening.

"Hermione knows?"

Ginny sighed. That answered that question! "Yes, she knows. And so does Angelina."

"But his father is a Death Eater!" Harry exclaimed.

She closed her eyes, not wanting him to see her disappointment. "Your point?"

"My point? That is the point! Malfoy's father is a Death Eater, which makes Malfoy a Death-Eater-in-Training. He and his lot are no good, and you should stay away from them!" he said fiercely.

Ginny laughed in spite of herself. "Yep. You've become a Weasley all right. You've started telling me what to do," she said wryly.

Harry shook his head. "I'm only looking out for you, Gin. Ron would kill me if I let you get hurt."

"Don't you trust my judgment?" she asked him. "I was taken over by the epitome of evil! Don't you think I'd know when someone is no good?"

Harry sighed, conceding her point. He leaned against his elbows on the bed and looked at the ceiling. "That still doesn't change the fact he's a Malfoy, or a Slytherin."

Ginny laughed sardonically. "Same song, different singer," she muttered. "Unlike you and my brothers, I don't go around labeling people because of House affiliation. You miss out on great people like that."

"Great people like Corner from Ravenclaw?"

She snorted. "No, not him. He has an ego as wide as the Atlanticand a jealousy streak as long as infinity."

Harry chuckled. "You're the one dating him!"

"That will soon be rectified."

"And you think Malfoy is any better?" he asked skeptically.

"I know he is."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I still think you're off your rocker. Anything even associated with a Malfoy is bad news."

Ginny lifted an eyebrow. "Even Nia?" She saw him tense at the name, then relax his body.

"No," he admitted. "Not her."

"But she and Malfoy are best mates--practically brother and sister."

He sighed, running a palm over his face. "Yes, but she's . . . so different from the others."

"Not so different if she managed to make friends with her housemates, especially Malfoy. Remember what you said? 'Anything associated with Malfoy is bad news,'" Ginny reminded him.

"She isn't. I don't think there's an evil bone in her body," Harry said.

She laughed shortly. "Oh my! You should hear the stories she tells. In fact, I remember when she told me she punched Draco in the stomach--hard."

"Draco?" he teased. "You must really like him if you dare to call him by name in my presence!"

Ginny ignored him, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, that proves she's not so nice, if she punched him and lived to tell about it."

Harry snickered. "But hitting Malfoy isn't being evil; it's doing a public service!" They both laughed.

"That wasn't nice," she said finally, all the while trying to contain her chuckles.

"You laughed, as well," he retorted. "And you're the one who likes him!"

Her laughter subsided. "Can you deal with that?"

"Do I have a choice? I'll get over it," he shrugged. "Maybe when I'm eighty, but I'll get over it."

She smiled. "Honestly, Harry, he seems like he's changing for the better. Ever since Nia came, Draco hasn't been his usual ferret self as often. She has that effect on people."

"Yeah, she does," he said in a far-away voice.

"Sounds to me you've had personal experience with that," she teased.

Harry blushed, looking at the ceiling again. "You could say that."

Ginny's eyes widened, and she squealed. "Harry James Potter! Is something happening between you two?" He sat up and met her eyes then. Ginny gasped at the determination she saw in them.

"Yes," he replied. "And I aim to find out what it is."