Love's Greatest Sacrifice

Hermione didn't want to go up to her room that night. She wished she could have spent the night with someone she felt safe with instead of just Parvarti and Lavender. She sincerely wished she could have climbed into bed with Ginny, or her parents. Or R-

Aaaaahhh, she screamed mentally. There would be no finishing that thought either.

Hermione did go to her own room that night. As a precaution, she placed a strong shield charm on her bed curtains.

At around two in the morning, she suddenly saw her breath form an icicle sprinkled cloud, and heard the now familiar whisper. Her breathing grew intensely shallow as she saw the iridescent glow outside the curtains, and to her absolute terror, she saw the boy slowly materialize on the inside of her drapes.

"What do you want?" she said in a barely audible voice. She had pulled the blanket over her head and was now shaking like mad. She could feel him moving closer and closer, feel the temperature of the room drop exponentially.

She had pulled herself into a ball underneath the covers, and was quietly weeping into her sheets.

Then, as if nothing had happened, the room lost its frightening chill, and Hermione glanced over the top of her blanket to find nothing standing there.

The only thing she found, as she stared at the blood red curtains, was that the terrible feeling in center of her heart had grown.

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After five agonizing hours of waiting in the common room with no one around, she heard footsteps. That meant it was around 7:30 she estimated. She had left for the Griffindor common room immediately after seeing the boy. She hadn't wanted to stay in her room the rest of the night, nor any other night for that matter.

Several fourth year girls piled down the stairs and off to breakfast, leaving Hermione alone once more. She would have followed them, but she wanted to wait. Wait for... well, Ron. She begrudgingly admitted. She knew she had to tell him this time, it was getting out of hand.

After what seemed like an hour of people drifting in and out to go down to the Great Hall, Hermione finally saw Ron emerge.

She was so relieved to see him after such a long wait that she lost her head completely and threw herself into his arms.

"Ron!" she spoke into his chest.

"What is it? What, did he show up again?"

"Yes." she said shakily. Ron, who was standing rigidly as Hermione cried into his shirt, suddenly grabbed her shoulders and stared intently into her eyes.

"Hermione, are you nuts? Go to McGonagal, or someone! Go to Flitwick, or Snape for all I care, but ghosts are not supposed to be in your room! He sounds evil to me!"

"He's not!" she said sternly, although she had no idea why she had said it. it seemed, however, that it wasn't her brain saying it. She continued.

"He's a kind spirit, okay? He's just creepy. but I know he's trying to tell me something, and if I stop it, something bad, something that will hurt me, could happen!"

Ron stared at her as if she was insane. Maybe she was insane. She certainly thought so. She had just argued against the danger of a spirit who came in the middle of the night and crept towards a sleeping seventeen year old girl, freezing her stiff and scaring the daylights out of her. How could he not be a threat?

"You're crazy," he said flatly. "If you don't tell someone, I will." and he stormed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory without eating breakfast.

Several minutes later, as Hermione stood dumbfounded in the middle of the common room, Harry descended the staircase and approached her with his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Has Ron gone crazy?" Harry asked, creasing his forehead. "He just ran up muttering about some... ghost molester stalking the girls' rooms? Then he said that you could explain it and put his foot through his trunk. He's up there taking the splinters out right now."

"Oh," Hermione sighed, bowing her head. "No, he's not crazy, I am. But he's not a 'ghost molester'!"

"Who's not? Ron?"

"No, no," she said, laughing slightly. "The ghost that comes to my room is not a ghost molester!"

"A.. ghost that comes to your room doesn't molest ghosts." he said, chuckling.

"No! The ghost that comes to my room does not molest people! Ron just thinks the whole thing is seedy, but it's not! he's a good spirit, I can tell."

"Are you.. feeling all right?" Harry asked with a slight frown.

"No, absolutely not!" she said, raising her arms in frustration. "I've been feeling rotten ever since he came to my room!"

"But he's a good spirit?"

"Yes, exactly."

Hearing herself say it in such a way left little room for doubt in her mind that she was, in fact, crazy. She had argued on this ghost's behalf for nearly ten minutes, and during the entire time, her brain had had little say in the matter. She could not stop herself from saying such irrational things. It was like some kind of malfunction. Where were these feelings coming from? Her... heart? It had felt like it.

"Okay..." Harry said, backing away for added humorous effect.

"Oh for goodness sake, Harry!" said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"No, no, that makes perfect sense, a ghost comes to your bed in the middle of the night, and doesn't molest you I might add, then Ron gets jealous and kicks a hole in his trunk."

"Jealous? I- what? I'll explain it to you once I understand it myself."

"Umm, right. Gotcha."

Harry bit his lip and with a fleeting glance towards the staircase for the boys' dorms, crawled through the portrait hole.

"See you at, er, breakfast I hope. And try to get Ron to come downstairs," he said, gazing anxiously at her.

Making up her mind, Hermione sought after Ron and climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

"Erm, Ron," she said, rapping on his door.

"Ouch!!" was all that she heard in reply.

She pushed her way through the door, and found him sitting on his bed, amongst a tiny pile of splinters. Hermione silently marched towards his trunk.

"Repairo," she mumbled. The trunk grew fresh, smooth wood instantly, like a scab.

"Thanks," he growled.

"I don't know where all that stuff came from!" she burst. "I know I shouldn't stand up for him. But please, don't be mad, Ron!"

"Then why do you stand up for him? Does he speak to you? Is he your friend? What's his name?" he snarled.

"Ron... please, I don't-"

"I don't want him to hurt you! I don't care if he might be trying to tell you something! It's not worth it!"

"I know!" she cried.

"So why are you putting yourself in danger?" Ron's light, warm eyes were growing dark with anxiety.

"I have no idea! Okay? I have never done anything this stupid but I know it's important."

Every rational molecule within Hermione was fighting with her. They told her to stop being silly. That this ghost could hurt her. But she knew, her heart knew they was wrong.

"Do you have any idea how scared you were this morning?" Ron erupted. "You were crying for God sake!"

"I know! I was scared! " Hermione was starting to feel very foolish.

"What changed in the past half hour?!!" he demanded.

"I-I- listened to my heart for once."

"Man, is that cheesy," said Ron, smiling for the first time.

"I'm glad I could at least cheer you up," she said, returning the smile.

"I guess I know what you mean, about that 'heart' stuff," he said kindly. "People don't give it enough credit. Like, people come up with all these complicated spells for protection, but it was Harry's mum's sacrifice that defeated You-Know-Who the first time. All it was was love." he said knowingly.

"I don't know if that was all it was-"

"I bet," Ron started slowly. "If someone did the same thing for Harry now, it might actually defeat You-Know-Who again."

Hermione felt her heart sink like a stone. She didn't quite know why, but she had a pretty good idea, and she didn't like it at all.