The Winds that Die Alike on Land and Sea

When Ron arrived home that evening, his first question, as usual, was, "What's for dinner?"

"Chicken and collared greens," Hermione called from the kitchen.

"Gee, gee," James called, banging his spoon on the tray of his high chair.

"Chicken and collared greens, huh?" Ron said, coming in and ruffling James's hair, then dodging the spoon. "You haven't made that before."

"Well, not since I've been here," Hermione answered, setting a plate of baked chicken on the table. "I used to make it all the time, though...it was Harry's favourite."

Ron chose to ignore this last statement. "How are things in your tiny empire?"

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Oh, Ron...Harry's come back!"

Ron looked up sharply. "He what?"

"He's alive, he's come back," Hermione said happily, opening a jar of baby food for James. "Ginny stopped by and told me...he's pretty badly hurt and he's at St. Mungo's right now, but he'll live."

"They can't guarantee that," Ron said quickly. "There's no guarantee he'll survive if his injuries are that bad..."

"No, they're positive," Hermione told him, spooning a mouthful of strained carrots into James's mouth. "I'm going to see tomorrow about taking out a flat and--"

"No, you aren't. You're staying here."

Hermione looked over in mild surprise. "Ron, I don't want to put you out. James and I will get a flat somewhere and--"

"No, you won't," Ron said firmly. "You will stay right here."

Hermione put down the spoon and turned to face her friend. "Ron--" she began.

"No," Ron repeated. "I am not letting you leave this house."

"Ron, please," Hermione begged. "I came into this house of my own free will and--"

"And you'll leave it over my dead body," Ron snapped.

"I can arrange for that," Hermione retorted, beginning to get a little angry. "Ron, what is the matter with you?"

Ron's ears started to turn red. "I don't want you anywhere near him," he said angrily.

"What is with you?" Hermione snapped. "He's your best mate, I thought you'd be pleased he was back."

Ron stood angrily. "He's not taking you away from me."

"You're right, he's not, because I'm not with you in the first place!" Hermione replied, turning back to James and his dinner. The next thing she knew she was sprawled on the floor, the baby food jar spilled on the tray and her cheek stinging. Ron stood over her furiously.

"You are not leaving this house," he hissed. "And he had better not come here either." With that, he was gone.

Hermione stayed still a moment, unable to believe what had just happened. James's cries alerted her to the fact that she had to come back to earth. Slowly, she rose to her feet, finished feeding her son, and picked him up to burp him, trying to ignore her stinging cheek. Only when she had put James down for the night did she let herself look in the mirror. Her cheek was swollen and bruised, and she could see a small cut--he must've been holding his silverware when he hit her.

I've got to get out of here, she thought desperately. Forget my things. Ginny can get them later. James and I have to get out of here.

Quietly, she picked up James and wrapped him in a blanket, then headed for the door. She opened it and started out, then stopped in slight confusion. Again she tried to leave--and again, with increasing alarm...