This Dance We Do

Chapter 1: The Invitation

The world around Ron Weasley was swirling, but in a very good way. Everything seemed lighter, funnier for some reason. He knew that he should be acting seriously; they were, after all, here to rescue Sirius, who was in danger, but at the moment all Ron could do was giggle. For some reason, the fact that Sirius sounded like serious was very humorous to him right now.

Ron looked to his left and saw the large tank of brains. What an odd thing to keep down here in the Ministry of Magic, brains. He wondered if Hermione's brain was in there somewhere; she was very smart, and if someone would want to study brains, surely hers would be at the top of the list.

Ron decided that Harry should laugh at the brains as well; poor guy really needed to lighten up a bit. Ron extended his wand towards the tub and said, "Accio brain!" His Summoning charm worked, because a brain was coming his way, and trailing behind it were several pretty looking strands of something, exactly what, Ron wasn't sure. He reached out a hand to touch it, to see what it was.

Suddenly the tentacles, because that was what they were, were surrounding Ron, pinching him. They were burning him where they touched his skin. He squirmed, trying to get them off; they were not nice, he did not like them at all. He had flashes going through his head, memories and thoughts that were not his. The brain was going to kill him, and he would never get to talk to his friends again, never get to see Hermione.

Ron sat up with a jolt. The marks that the brain had left all over his body tingled, as they always did after Ron dreamt about that night in the Department of Mysteries. Ron thought he now had an idea about how Harry felt when his scar woke him from a dream.
Ron looked down at the way the healing tissue shone in the moonlight. He had told Harry and Hermione that the marks had only been left on his forearms; he knew that Harry would feel guilty if he knew that the welts were actually also present on Ron's back, around his midriff, and across his chest. They were starting to heal quite nicely, though, Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction seemed to be doing the trick. The welts were now thin lines the light pink color of new skin. Madam Pomfrey assured him that the marks on his chest and back would be completely gone by the end of the summer. She said, however, that there was a good chance that the marks on his arms would scar.

Ron shrugged. Girls liked scars. They liked to fawn over them, and say how brave the guy was for facing whatever he did. That was one of the few things Ron knew about girls. He'd seen his brothers do it a few times, especially Charlie. Charlie would be sitting there with a girl, who would be all over him, explaining how he'd gotten this scar from a Welsh Green, and this one from a Chinese Fireball, and that one when he'd almost lost his life. He could go on for hours, and the entire time the girl would sit there, crooning, "Oh wow! You poor thing. Did it hurt terribly?"

There was only one girl that Ron was interested in, however, and she did not care about such things. She did seem worried over his well being, though.

Ron closed his eyes as he remembered what she had been like in the hospital wing. When Hermione had felt well enough to get up and move around on her own, she had come to sit on the edge of his bed to play a game of Wizard's Chess with him. As Ron went to move his rook he heard Hermione sniff. When he looked up, he saw that she was crying. He was very confused; Hermione had never cried over loosing a game of chess before.

"Um, Hermione? Are you all right?"

She looked up at him and hastily rubbed the tears from her eyes.

"I--I'm fine."

"Why are you crying?"

She shook her head and sniffed again.

"Did I do something wrong? Are you upset that you're not winning, because you can still take me, the game's not over yet."

Hermione made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff.

"It's not that, Ron. Do you honestly think that I'd cry over something as trivial as a game of Wizard's Chess?"

"Well, no, it's just..."

Ron wasn't sure what it was, he just knew that he did not like to see Hermione cry. When she did, he always felt the unbearable urge to hold her until the tears stopped, but he did not know how he would do that even if he could.

"It's just that, seeing those marks, on your arms, it makes me realize how close I came to losing you." She sniffed again. "And then Sirius dying, I can't help but think that that could have been one of us, and then I feel guilty for thinking that."

"Why does that make you feel guilty?" Ron surprised himself when he heard how soft his voice sounded. He seemed to surprise Hermione as well, because she looked at him strangely before she spoke again.

"It makes me feel guilty, Ron, because Sirius was someone we knew, and yet some part of me was willing to trade him for you or Harry." Hermione's voice caught, and she took a steadying breath before she went on. "I keep thinking that I must be a really horrible person for that thought even crossing my mind."

Before Ron knew what he was doing, he reached out and cradled her cheek in his hand, brushing a tear away with his thumb. Hermione hiccoughed at his touch, but she didn't pull away.

"Hermione, look at me." She met his gaze, and he briefly noted the intimacy of the situation before he went on. "You are not a horrible person, nor could you ever be one. You're upset that Sirius is gone, but you didn't want to lose one of your friends. I'm sure that it is a completely normal reaction. Can I tell you something?" Ron looked right into Hermione's watery eyes, hoping that she'd know that he was telling the truth. "I thought the same thing once I understood what was going on."

Hermione looked at him for a moment, and then started crying in earnest. Ron was confused, he only wanted to make her feel better. He was about to say something else, anything else to get her to stop crying, when Hermione crawled across the chess board, scattered pieces crying out in indignation, and wrapped her arms around his neck. It took Ron a moment to realize that he had Hermione Granger in his lap, crying into his shoulder and soaking through his shirt, yes, but she was in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and gently rocked her, ignoring the pain her being pressed against his welts was causing, until she stopped crying.

Ron's thoughts were interrupted by a tapping on the window. He looked out to see Pig hooting happily with a letter tied to his leg.

"About bloody well time."

Ron hurried to the window to let Pig in, and had to pluck him out of the air to get the letter off his leg.

"You know," he grumbled at the owl, "I've had you for, what, two years now? You'd think you'd have learned how to stay still in that time."

He managed to get the letter off Pig's leg, and then let him go. Pig zipped around the room of couple times, but eventually went back to his cage to eat. Ron rolled his eyes then looked at the letter. As he had suspected, it was from Hermione. They had been writing to one another several times a week over the holiday. Ron was surprised the first time this happened. Usually, even if he responded right away to her letters, Hermione would wait a few days before sending the next one. Ron assumed the change had something to do with the events in the Department of Mysteries. He looked down at the letter, and marveled at how his heart always jumped when he saw Hermione's writing.

Ron,

I am so happy to hear that your welts are healing. Hopefully they'll be completely healed soon. Are you still using that stuff that Madam Pomfrey gave you? Remember, if you don't use it twice a day, every day, it won't have the effect it is supposed to have.

I am so happy that it is almost July, our O.W.L. marks will be here soon! I can't wait to see how I did. I'm sure I didn't get an O on Astronomy or Ancient Runes, but I've got my fingers crossed for all the others. How do you think you did? Do you know what N.E.W.T level classes you want to take next year? When we get our O.W.L.s, you, Harry, and I should all arrange our timetables together. I mean, it won't be sensible to take all our classes together, but it would be nice to still be in several of them with the two of you.

Which reminds me, what better way to arrange our timetables together than if we're all together when we get them? I'm inviting you and Harry to spend the rest of the holiday at my house. I figure we've all spent summers at the Burrow, you two have never been to my house, Harry can't very well stay with the Dursleys, nor can he go to Grimmauld Place right now, and you've never spent much time in a Muggle dwelling, so why not? I was going to go and pick Harry up from his aunt and uncle's house this coming Sunday, so if you could show up around two in the afternoon, that would be great. My house is connected to the Floo network under the name "The Grangers." I do hope you can come.

Well, that's all I'm going to write today, I know how upset you get if I try to put too much in one letter. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Love from,
Hermione

Ron read over the letter once more, absentmindedly running his finger over her name as he read. He and Harry would be spending the summer at Hermione's house. They would be able to see how she lived when she was away from school. They would be able to see her room. Ron almost dropped the letter at this thought. Hermione's room. Ron swallowed forcefully and moved on to another thought. They would be spending the summer together; not at the Burrow, which was always overcrowded; not at Grimmauld Place, which was dark and depressing; but at Hermione's.

Ron shook his head as unwanted images flooded his mind. He put the letter on his desk, and tried to decide what to do next. His first choice would have been to take a cold shower in an attempt to drive the thoughts that were currently lurking in the corners of his mind away, but the sound of the pipes would wake the whole house. He could try to get some more sleep, but he doubted he would be able to. Sighing heavily, Ron moved to his desk, lit a lamp, and began working on a return letter to Hermione.

Several minutes later, Ron read over what he had written.

Hermione,

Yes, I am still using the stuff Madam Pomfrey gave me, and I know that I have to use it twice every day for it to work properly, between you and my mum I don't think I could forget.

I am glad to hear that you are looking forward to getting your O.W.L.s back, I'm sure that you received O's on everything and that you now hold the record for the most O.W.L.s received in Hogwarts history. At the moment, I am trying to think what I will do if I get fewer O.W.L.s than Fred and George.

I'd love to come to your house for the rest of the summer, I just have to ask Mum when she gets up. As soon as I know what she says, I'll let you know, but I'm positive she will say yes. While we're there, I'm sure that you'll help Harry and I with our timetables, because we won't know what to take. All I know is that I want to get out of Divination. I almost died when McGonagall told be that to become an Auror I would need to take N.E.W.T. level Potions. And here I was hoping to get out of it. As long as I have you and Harry there I think I'll be fine, though, unless that quivering, bouncing ferret Malfoy is there. Honestly, you'd think that Dumbledore would kick him out, knowing what his father is.

Anyway, I think I'm going to go back to bed now. It's not quite dawn yet, so I think I can get a couple more hours sleep. Oh, and don't worry about writing too much, I don't mind.

Yours,
Ron

Ron looked over his letter. He wanted to ask about the injury that she had sustained in the Department of Mysteries, but somehow asking "How's your chest" just didn't seem right. Deciding that he had written a pretty decent letter, Ron walked over to Pig's cage and took him out.

"Do you think you can handle another delivery tonight?"

The owl in his palm hooted excitedly and began to hop around. Ron secured the letter to his leg with some difficulty, but finally managed to attach it and send him on his way. Ron then closed the window, and fell back into bed.