The Last Time

Chapter 30

Professor McGonagall caught her as she was coming out of the Great Hall after lunch, and took her to Ollivander's to get a new wand. Remus had done the same for Harry that morning, which was why he wasn't around for lunch.

Hermione was very disappointed in her new wand; part of her was hoping that she could get her old one back, but from what McGonagall told her, Snape had been fairly sure that Voldemort had snapped their wands after their escape.

Her new wand was very nice - rosewood and dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches, slightly springy - but it just wasn't the same as her old one. Her old wand had been almost like a part of her body; when she held it, it felt more like part of her arm than a just piece of wood in her hand.

She remembered her very first trip to Diagon Alley to buy her school supplies, with Professor McGonagall and her parents, and her visit to Ollivander's had been a brief one. The second wand she tried had been the wand for her, and Ollivander had seemed very pleased that they'd found such an excellent match in such a short time.

This time it took half the afternoon.

Hermione thought it would be an easy thing to get another wand, and she frowned as Ollivander chose several boxes from his dusty shelves. "Can't you just give me another wand made like my old one?" she asked.

"Oh, no, Miss Granger, certainly not," he said, handing her different wands to try. "Every wand is unique; even if I had another made exactly like your old wand, it would still be different. Each one has a special magical energy that relates to the date it was made, its maker, and the individual circumstances of its production. When I say that no two wands are exactly alike, I mean it."

She was about to give up hope of finding a suitable wand. Most of them felt as lifeless in her hands as a quill or piece of parchment, though a few gave off a tiny sputter of sparks. Finally she found one that felt right, but she couldn't be sure unless she tried a real spell.

"Something simple, Miss Granger," suggested McGonagall.

Hermione, thinking of the first spell she had learned at Hogwarts, aimed at some parchments on Ollivander's desk and said, "Wingardium Leviosa."

The parchments sailed into the air easily, but she had a bit of trouble controlling exactly where they went. It was almost like she had to pull the spell out of the wand instead of the spell flowing naturally from it. This can't be right - I've never had a spot of trouble with a simple spell like this before, she thought.

"I don't think this one will do, Mr. Ollivander," she said, holding it out to him.

He didn't take it from her. "Actually this one will do quite nicely," he said, as McGonagall nodded.

Hermione shook her head. "No, it just doesn't feel right with the spell. It's not the same."

"It won't be," said McGonagall.

"But...Ron...when he got a new wand, our third year...he did so much better!" she protested. "I shouldn't have trouble with a spell like Wingardium Leviosa!"

"Mr. Weasley's first wand wasn't suited to him in the first place," McGonagall answered. "He only had it for two years, remember. His second wand was more closely matched to him. But you...your first wand was matched to you, and you learned with it. This one is matched to you as well, but you used the other for almost seven years. It will take time to get used to it, but before long you won't even notice the difference."

*****

When she returned to Hogwarts, Hermione went off to the Transfiguration classroom to try some spells with her new wand. If it was going to take time to get used to it, then there was no better time to start than straight away.

After half an hour, she decided she really didn't like it at all.

It wasn't that her spells didn't work, because they did. She could banish, summon, levitate, conceal, shield, transfigure, and conjure as well as she had before, but it was the feel of it that bothered her. The wand wasn't fighting her, but it wasn't cooperating either. It took a much stronger focus to work her spells with this wand. Even something as simple as trying to make bits of chalk fly from the chalkboard and zoom around the room took a ridiculous amount of concentration.

Just what I need right now - a wand that doesn't want to work with me. Lovely.

She was just wondering what could make this wand harder to use, whether it was the dragon heartstring or the rosewood, when she heard a voice.

"Hermione?"

"Ah!" She whirled around, wand raised, to see Ron in the doorway. "Sorry," she said, lowering her wand. "I'm just jumpy."

"No doubt." He rolled on into the room and shut the door. "What are you doing?"

"Working out my new wand," she said, tossing it onto McGonagall's desk.

"Not going well?"

"No. It's awful. I have to try so hard to get it to work - "

"Then quit and talk to me," Ron said, patting a chair next to him. "You seen Harry today?"

"No, have you?" she asked, sitting down.

"For a bit, after you left with McGonagall. He was talking to that little blonde first year, what's her name? Clarice or Kelly...no, that's not right. You know who I'm talking about?"

"Claire? Claire Murphy?" She hadn't seen much of Claire since she and Harry had helped her with her Transfiguration homework and she'd shared her mum's cake and biscuits with them.

"Yeah, that's her name," Ron said. "Anyway, she looked upset about something. Dunno what happened, but Harry was talking to her, then she ran up to her dormitory crying and Harry just looked awful. I didn't get to ask him about it - he went in our room and shut the door like he didn't want to talk to anybody. Is he okay?"

"I don't know," she answered. It was sort of a lie, but sort of the truth, because she wasn't really sure what was going on with Harry.

"Are you okay? I mean, what happened yesterday...I wish I had been - "

"No, you don't," said Hermione. "It was awful. Voldemort...you know how Harry's told us what he's like? Well, he's everything Harry said he was and a million times worse. Just the way he talks makes you want to be sick."

"Tell me what happened," said Ron quietly.

It took her a few minutes to find the right words, but she told him. She hadn't done any talking in Dumbledore's office, leaving it to Harry to tell, but now she was glad she was talking about it. It didn't make it any less horrible, but it helped.

As Hermione talked about what happened, she began to feel something change inside her. She had been terrified of Voldemort the night before, and she still was, but there was something else now along with the terror. Something like anger and frustration was now running through her veins, and she got up and began pacing around the room as she talked.

"And now Harry's on about 'you and Ron are going to stay out of it', like he's trying to protect us or something," she finished.

Ron snorted. "Well, he's nutters if he thinks we're going to listen to that."

"Exactly!" She stopped pacing. "Why does he insist on being such a...such a martyr?"

"Because that's the way Harry is," said Ron. "He thinks if he takes it all on himself, nobody else gets hurt."

"What a Gryffindor."

"Aren't we all?" Ron's tone was light, but his expression was serious. "You do the same thing - maybe not for the same reasons, but you do it. You like to take things all on yourself and don't tell anybody till you've figured it all out on your own."

"I do not."

"You do it all the time."

"Name one," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Just one?" A teasing note had crept into his voice. "So many to choose from...let's see...basilisk, Buckbeak, Lupin, Skeeter. That enough for you?"

Hermione didn't answer.

"You hate it when I'm right, don't you?" he said.

"No."

"Liar."

She knew that last word was meant in a completely teasing and light-hearted way, but it still stung a bit, considering. "I don't lie." But you don't exactly tell the whole truth, now do you?

Ron opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, like he was about to say something and changed his mind at the last minute, and finally blurted out, "Is it true?"

"What?" she asked, confused.

"That article in the Daily Prophet," he said.

"That load of rubbish? You know it's not true...just a bunch of posturing by Fudge."

Ron shook his head, and his ears went red. "No, I know that part's bollocks. I mean...the part about 'Potter and his girlfriend, Hermione Granger'."

"Oh...that part." Hermione hadn't even noticed it when she read the article - but now she could see the article in her mind as clearly as if she were looking at it.

"Yeah, that part. So - is it true? That's what you were trying to tell me, wasn't it - when I kept interrupting."

There was no point in trying to deny it or talk around it anymore, but she didn't know what to say. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the outburst she just knew was forthcoming - but nothing happened.

"Hermione? Look at me." Ron didn't sound angry, which was a good sign, and when she opened her eyes he didn't look angry either.

Just...confused.

"Is it true?" he asked again.

"I don't know!" she blurted.

"Why don't you know?"

"It's complicated."

"That's an understatement." He paused for a minute, and then said, "So you weren't doing anything then, but you are now."

"Something like that...you do believe me, about earlier, don't you?" She had to make sure he believed her about that first of all; he had to know that things had not been the way they looked.

He let out a deep breath all at once and nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Hermione hadn't actually expected him to say that, and she wasn't quite sure she actually had heard him say it. "You do?"

"Yeah." He gave her a sort of crooked half-smile. "I didn't at first - well, I guess you could have figured that out on your own, huh?"

"That was the impression I got, yes," she said dryly.

"You know when you and Harry tried to talk to me a while back? When I yelled at you and Harry, he hit me, and I turned around and gave him a bloody nose? Well, that was when I realized you two were telling the truth."

"You had to give Harry a bloody nose to figure that out?"

"I didn't mean to," he said defensively. "It just kind of happened." He picked up Hermione's new wand from the desk where she'd thrown it, and looked at it very carefully, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "I can't explain it, but there was something different - something about the way you were talking, it just hit me that you were telling the truth. I didn't know why, but there it was. And I'm...er...sorry," he added. "Not that 'sorry' can make it up or anything...."

What's a graceful way to accept someone's apology? Especially someone you didn't think would apologize in the first place?

"Er..." Hermione said, feeling her cheeks burn.

"Well...." Ron studied her wand very intently, not looking at her. "So about that article...."

"Yes. Well." Her face felt very hot. It was a wonder her skin didn't catch fire. "I don't know what to say about that...exactly."

Now Ron's face went very red. "Do you...like Harry like that?"

"Maybe...I don't know!"

"You don't know, or you don't want to tell me?"

"Ron, that's not fair."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just don't know what to think."

"I told you, it's complicated."

"Yeah." He put her wand back down on the desk. "Are you, you know...together?" He looked extremely embarrassed.

"No more so than you and I were," she said, feeling very strange and desperate to change the subject. "What about you? You keep asking about me and Harry, but what about you and Natalie?"

"She's a nice girl, Hermione," he said. "She really is. I know you don't like her - "

"What makes you think I don't like her?" Hermione asked defensively.

"Oh, please, Hermione, it's obvious just by the way you look at her - you can't stand her. Not that I can blame you. You've got good reason not to like her. But you don't know her like I know her." A small smile broke out on his face. "We argue about stuff all the time, but it's arguing in a good way. I yell at her and she makes a crack right back at me and it's like I don't even know what to say."

"The fact that she's pretty wouldn't have anything to do with it, would it?" Hermione asked.

"Not at all," Ron said innocently. "I never noticed. Is she really?"

"Ron..." she said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, okay - yes, she is very pretty. And smart, and thoughtful...she came to visit me almost as much as you and Harry did."

"I get the picture," said Hermione shortly. "She's pretty, smart, athletic, funny, witty, just perfect, isn't she?" Why am I being so hateful about Natalie? Ron can be with whoever he wants. None of my business, right?

"Now who's not being fair? I'll have you know, that not once, as much as I vented to her about you and Harry, not once did she say a single bad thing about either of you. Matter of fact, she kept trying to get me to go and work things out with you two."

"Oh." Add another attribute to the list of things that make Natalie McDonald Miss Perfect.

"Oh is right." Then the smile disappeared and his face clouded over. "But I don't guess it really matters now, anyway."

"What doesn't matter? Did you have some kind of fight, or something?"

"No, not exactly...it's just that...well...I kind of broke it off with her."

Hermione was dumbfounded. "But you said you liked her! You just spouted off this whole list of things that are wonderful about her. What did you break it off with her for?"

"Er...she's too young," he said half-heartedly.

Hermione didn't believe him. "Don't lie to me, Ron Weasley," she said, sitting back down beside him. "That's not it and you know it. Why did you break up with her, if you like her so much?"

"Just forget it," he said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Honestly! You're not making any sense, you know that, don't you?"

But Ron just shook his head and wouldn't say anything else. Nothing Hermione could say would get him to tell her anything. Finally she gave up and they went back to Gryffindor Tower.

*****

That talk with Ron should have made Hermione feel at least a little bit better, but it didn't. While they had cleared the air about their original fight, there were still things left unresolved. She honestly expected Ron to be angry or upset about things between her and Harry, but he didn't seem to be. And while she was a little bit relieved, she had a feeling that was not going to be the end of it.

She also couldn't figure out why Ron had ended things with Natalie. It didn't seem like he had; Hermione saw them sitting at lunch or in the common room on several occasions talking and joking around. If Ron had broken up with her, she was taking it surprisingly well. It didn't make any sense.

In many ways, Ron was very much like his old cheerful, adorably irritating, fun-loving self. He seemed to be adjusting to his new situation rather well; he didn't complain or ask for any special treatment, which Hermione found a bit surprising. Not that Ron had ever been a complainer when it came to anything that really mattered, but Hermione thought that had she been in his situation she'd have a lot harder time getting along.

One thing continued to bother her. Whenever Malfoy happened to be in close proximity to Ron, something unpleasant usually happened. At first they were only silly, harmless pranks like the Itching Charm, but one day toward the end of May, Malfoy got very confused during Potions and added too much dragon's blood to a potion, making it explode. That incident laid Malfoy up in the hospital wing for three days with second-degree burns all over his face and hands.

She knew Ron was still bitter towards Malfoy for causing his accident, but she was beginning to worry that he was taking this too far. Not that she particularly cared about Malfoy, but she didn't want to see Ron get in trouble for doing something horrible to him. Just like Harry.

When did I get in the position of protecting Draco Malfoy from my best friends, she wondered glumly. She tried to discuss it with Ron, but he very skilfully avoided the issue, leaving her stumped.

Not only was Ron behaving oddly, so was Harry. For one thing, he was falling asleep in class at least once a day. When he was awake in class, he wasn't paying attention, but staring off into space like a zombie. Once he skipped out on one of their regular study sessions, and when she questioned him about it later he snapped at her.

"Don't nag me, Hermione," he said irritably. "I could care less about the stupid N.E.W.T.s, so just leave me alone."

In addition, he went out of his way to avoid being alone with her. Even when they were supposed to be preparing for the final round of Auror Trials, he asked either Ron or Ginny to come with them and watch. She knew why he was doing it, of course - thinking that by pushing her away he could protect her, and it aggravated her to no end.

Hermione wanted to sit down with Ron and Harry and have a good long talk with both of them to clear the air once and for all, but the opportunity never presented itself. The longer they put it off, the harder it was to bring up. Harry showed no signs of wanting to discuss anything, and after Ron's initial awkwardness over the comment in the Daily Prophet, he never brought it up again either. Ron did give her a questioning look or two when Harry made a blatantly obvious attempt not to be alone with Hermione, but he didn't say anything.

She felt like they were all dancing around each other. They were so afraid of a huge confrontation breaking up their friendship again that they shoved all the big issues down to talk about later. This was worse - because instead of getting it all out in one fell swoop, it was eating at their friendship from the inside out.

*****

One evening, after a particularly stressful day in class and an awkwardly silent dinner with Harry and Ron, Hermione headed to the hospital wing to do her last round of volunteer hours for Healing Arts. It was a rather boring shift; with no patients to attend to, so she straightened some of the supplies and chatted with Madam Pomfrey.

She was just finishing up and getting ready to go back to Gryffindor when Crabbe and Goyle came into the wing, hauling a very loud and raucous Draco Malfoy between them.

"What happened to him?" Madam Pomfrey asked, as Crabbe and Goyle dumped Malfoy on a bed.

"I dunno," said Goyle slowly. "We left the Great Hall after dinner, heading back to Slytherin, stopped to talk to some people - "

"Gryffindors!" yelled Malfoy. "Goody-goody Gryffindors, goody-goody Gryffindors," he sang, and laughed insanely. He didn't seem to notice Hermione standing there.

"I don't remember who they were," said Goyle, looking sideways at Malfoy. "But by the time we got back to Slytherin, Draco was laughing and stumbling and bumping into walls. It's like he's drunk or something."

Ron, Hermione thought.

Madam Pomfrey sniffed Malfoy's breath and shook her head. "Not drunk, Mr. Goyle. Probably an Inebriation Hex. He'll have to stay the night till it wears off, but he'll be fine."

Crabbe and Goyle shrugged, mumbled something to Malfoy, and shuffled off.

"Can you do anything?" Hermione asked, as Malfoy drifted off into a drunken stupor.

Madam Pomfrey shrugged. "You can use a Sobering Charm, but they tend to get quite sick afterward. It's best to just let it wear off on its own." She looked at her watch. "Anyway, it's time for you to go. Run along...I'll deal with Mr. Malfoy myself."

Hermione left the hospital wing, then stopped in the corridor, thinking.

She went back to the hospital wing and waited just outside the doorway until Madam Pomfrey had got Malfoy settled, dimmed the lamps, and gone back into her office. Then Hermione went quietly over to Malfoy's bed, carefully pulled his left arm out from under the blankets, and rolled up his sleeve.

There was no trace of the Dark Mark on his pale skin.

I could have sworn I saw the Mark on his arm that day at the lake, Hermione thought as she put his arm back under the blankets. Is he really a Death Eater or not?

When she got back to the common room, Harry was sitting at a table in the corner. A closer look revealed he was sound asleep, face down on his Transfiguration book.

"Hey, Harry," she said, shaking him gently. "Wake up."

After a minute or so of shaking and prodding, he sat up groggily and rubbed his eyes. "Must have dozed off," he said.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm just tired, is all."

"You never fall asleep over homework," Hermione said.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"I'm just asking," she snapped back.

"Well, don't," he said.

His tone infuriated her. "Excuse me for being concerned when I see my best friend slumped over the table drooling on his homework." She looked at the mostly-blank parchment stuck in his textbook. "Especially when said homework isn't even done."

"Will you give it a rest already, Hermione!" he said, sweeping his books up into a messy pile. "I'm sick of you nagging me!"

"Fine, be that way - fail everything then," she said coldly, feeling sick inside at how distant he'd been since their encounter with Voldemort.

Harry sighed and slumped back in his chair. "Where's Ron?" he said abruptly, looking around.

"I thought he'd be with you," said Hermione.

"He said he had a headache and was going to see Madam Pomfrey," said Harry. "He said he was going to come back with you when you'd finished your shift."

"Ron never came to the hospital wing."

Harry pushed his chair back. "I'll go get the Map, and we can see - "

He stopped talking as Ron came in, red-eyed and blotchy faced. He didn't stop to talk to either of them but went straight to the dormitory and slammed the door behind him.