Becoming More

Chapter Two

Reliving the Past

Harry shook his head. "Still, we promised each other that we wouldn't talk about it. We haven't brought it up for six months."

Hermione sighed, taking Harry's hands in hers. "Thinking about Ron is inevitable. He was our friend, Harry. Our best friend. It's normal not to forget."

She herself could not forget that critical summer's day. Voldemort had once again been relentlessly pursuing Harry, and the Order of the Phoenix had been reinstated. Lupin was worried, Molly was frantic, and of course, Hermione and Ron were agonizing over the situation. Due to the dire circumstances, an emergency meeting of the Order was arranged in which Harry's fate was to be decided. Everyone had gathered at Sirius's mansion, which had been left to Harry by his godfather. Even though at the time Hermione and Ron were only sixteen, they too were called to attend the meeting. "You're his best friends," Dumbledore had said. "You know Harry the best, and can undoubtedly assist in the pronouncement of some sort of resolution."

Harry had sat anxiously in another room, ignoring the queasy feeling in his own stomach. He couldn't even mock a smile when Fred and George offered one of their products to eavesdrop. When Hermione and Ron finally came out of the meeting, Harry practically leapt on top of them. "Well?" he demanded. Hermione's expression was dubious, and Ron simply gazed into the distance.

"We're going to need a strand of your hair, Harry."

The trio of Gryffindors wandered around the corridors until they found a secluded room where they could talk in peace. Ron sat down in an oversized armchair in the corner, whilst Hermione stood beside him. Impatient, Harry slammed the door shut after all had entered the room. "Well?"

"Voldemort is more ruthless than ever, Harry. A narrow escape from death is not likely; that's why all these precautions are being made," Hermione said, drawing in a deep breath. "You're in serious danger, and the Order can't afford for you to be wandering around unprotected. That's why we've come up with a plan, a plan that uses a decoy of you to lure Voldemort here. Then Dumbledore can have his way with him."

"Well then what do you need a strand of my hair for?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "Do you remember back in our second year when the Chamber of Secrets was opened and we thought Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin? We wanted to know for sure, so you and Ron drank that Polyjuice Potion to become Crabbe and Goyle. That was only after you pulled out some of their hair; they had been knocked out from a Sleeping Draught, because we didn't want them bursting in while you interrogated Draco. You added the hairs to the potion so you would assume the form of that person for an hour. Well, it's almost the same thing as what we're trying to do now, only whoever becomes you will be acting as a decoy, Harry."

"Well, who is it? Who's going to risk their life for something like that?"

Ron cleared his throat. "I am," he admitted reluctantly. "I agreed to it during the meeting."

After persistent urgings, Harry still couldn't convince his best friend to discontinue with the plan. Everything was set; Ron was to drink the Polyjuice Potion and become Harry. "God, I forgot how horrible this stuff tastes," Ron complained after taking a huge gulp of the potion.

Harry attempted a half-smile. "I still can't believe you're doing this."

"I'd do anything for my best mate."

At that moment, Hermione came bursting in, looking as if she were about to cry. Her eyes glazed over and her expression saturnine, she walked solemnly over to her two friends. "Ron," she whispered. "Dumbledore is ready for you." Grasping Harry's hand, Hermione watched Ron walk out the door. He looked determined, as if he was prepared to meet any end, just as long as he didn't fail his best friend.

Tears sprung from Hermione's eyes, faint sobs shaking her body. "C'mon, 'Mione, it's not as if he's already died," Harry said. Not receiving any coherent responses from the seventeen-year-old witch, he sighed. "So what do we do now?"

"We sit and wait," Hermione faintly said, stifling a sniffle.

Walking lethargically down the seemingly endless flight of stairs, Ron Weasley, now in the form of Harry Potter, prepared himself mentally for the task at hand. He was skeptical about the whole thing, but he couldn't turn back now. He had promised Harry. As he passed the paintings on the decaying walls, the wizards and witches in them did not utter a word. They too seemed to know the magnitude of this event, and all that moved were their eyes as they bore down upon the courageous young wizard's spine.

When Ron finally reached Dumbledore, both wizards exchanged brief glances-Ron's expression tense, Dumbledore's grave. Neither of them spoke as the Headmaster led Ron to the front door of the mansion. "Now Ron, you know what to do," Dumbledore said as a final word. Ron nodded his head hesitantly; yes, he knew what he must do. It would take some acting on his part and Dumbledore's as well. However, it was imperative that their goal was accomplished; Voldemort must be defeated.

Wand in hand, Ron turned the bronze plated handle of the door and stormed out, Harry's green eyes flaring. Dumbledore followed close behind, halting in the door's frame. "Harry Potter, as much as a grievance as this is for me, you have performed illegal magic. You are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." As Dumbledore spoke, his voice remained calm and collected. The decoy Harry turned to face the Headmaster, his eyes alight with rage. "You know what, I've had enough! Enough with trying to play hero and consequently being penalized for it! If I hadn't interfered, that Muggle would have been killed! You really think I like living in fear that every corner I turn will have Voldemort lurking around it?"

A shriek suddenly echoed from inside the mansion, and Professor Dumbledore hurried off to investigate. As if on cue, a faint, hissing voice came from behind the bushes. "Harry Potter." The frightened young wizard slowly turned around to find himself face-to-face with the Dark Lord. "So we finally meet again, Harry," Voldemort sneered. "And unfortunately for you, there is no one here to save you. Not even Dumbledore is here for you now. But let me ask you something, Harry. How does it feel to be expelled from the only place you felt like you ever belonged? Lonely and betrayed perhaps?" Ron knew as Voldemort spoke, his words would have hit Harry straight in his heart. This only deepened his hatred for the dark wizard. "No," the play-actor Harry said. "It only makes me regret that I didn't kill you for destroying my life when I had the chance." He raised his wand up into the air, preparing for whatever might be thrown his way. However, before he could even open his mouth, Voldemort had drawn his wand out of his robes. The Dark Lord then spat the most unforgivable of the curses. "Avada Kedavara!"

A brilliant green light shot out from the end of Voldemort's wand and hit Ron square in the chest. Instantaneously, the young wizard was killed, and he dropped to the ground, limp and motionless. Cackling, Voldemort jeered at his dead body. "Who's almighty now, Potter?"

At the sound of the insane laughter, Dumbledore rushed back down the stairs. Meanwhile, Voldemort noticed something peculiar about Harry. As mere seconds passed, the boy's scar vanished, and his hair turned to a flaming shade of red. Before long, Harry Potter had completely transformed back into Ron Weasley. Dumbledore appeared in the doorway, and at the sight of Lord Voldemort, drew out his wand. But he was too late. The Dark Lord had already disapparated, leaving only the lifeless body of Ron.

"OH MY GOD!!" came from behind the Headmaster. Apparently, Hermione had trailed behind Dumbledore, against what he advised her to do. Not being able to handle the sight of her best friend's dead body, she ran upstairs to no doubt tell the news to Harry.

"Hermione! Hermione, are you in there?" Harry's voice jerked Hermione back from her flashback.

"Yes, yes, I just got a little sidetracked, that's all."

"Hermione," Harry started. "I think you're the one people are going to suspect's gone mental." Sighing, Hermione stood up and headed for the door out of the bedroom. Suspicious and concerned, Harry leapt up from where he was sitting and blocked her exit from the room. She did not try to fight her way out through the human barrier, just simply stood there, face directed at the floor. Picking up Hermione's chin, Harry was shocked to discover her cheeks dripping with tears.

"'Mione, are you okay?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine!" she shouted rather harshly. Taken aback by her abrupt mood swings, Harry moved aside and let her pass through. Hermione quickly headed for the main bathroom in the cabin, locking herself in. Harry wasn't quite sure, but he thought that he heard the faintest sniffles coming from inside the locked room.

A sudden knock on the front door startled Harry, for what he was least expecting and hoping for were visitors. However, he wasn't fond of being rude; reluctantly, he pulled open the door. What he found waiting on the other side was a certain Draco Malfoy, dressed only in a pair of swimming trunks. "Can I help you?" Harry said with a forced smile.

"Is Granger here?" Draco questioned.

Harry pursed his lips. "Where else would she be? Yes, she's here, Malfoy, but she's kind of....unavailable at the moment. Why?"

"I just wanted to tell her that the hot tub has an available seat open if she's willing to sit next to me," the smug Slytherin said with a smirk. Harry responded by slamming the door in Draco's face, muttering, "Arrogant bastard," under his breath.