The Final Battle

The Final Battle

Chapter Two: Attempting the Truth

"Why does Malfoy keep staring at us?" Harry asked as he, Ron and Hermione walked down to the Great Hall for dinner later that night. Draco was standing in the entrance hall, talking quietly among Grabbe, Goyle, Pansy and some of her Slytherin girls.

Hermione had made it back to the common room with enough time to avoid questions from her friends. Ginny though, had watched as she ran by on her way to her dormitory and had commented that she had pieces of grass stuck in her hair. Hermione made up a quick lie about having to chase down Crookshanks, but Hermione wasn't too sure Ginny believed her.

Ron was eyeing Draco evilly after the remark Harry had made. Draco indeed, was staring at them, quite intently too. "Because he's a lousy git, that's why," Ron replied to Harry's question, as if this was common knowledge to everyone. Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked between the two boys.

"He is not a git," Hermione retaliated quickly. She cast Draco an apologetic look, wondering if he could hear everything they were saying as they walked by. Draco, bless him, kept to his promise and said nothing. He did follow them into Great Hall though, walking not too far behind.

"His father was a Death Eater, Hermione," Ron argued. "You don't need much more proof to label yourself a git."

"His father was killed by Voldemort -" Ron shuddered as they sat down at the Gryffindor table - "and just because his father was a Death Eater, that doesn't automatically make Draco one, too. They aren't one and the same person."

"You could have fooled me," Ron mumbled.

Hermione chose to ignore him. But as she reached for the pitcher of iced pumpkin juice, she noticed Harry was looking at her funny. "What is it Harry?" she asked as she poured the pumpkin juice into her goblet.

"Did you just call Malfoy, Draco?" Hermione's hand paused on its way to put down the pumpkin juice pitcher.

"And why are you sticking up for him all of a sudden?" Ron added.

Hermione took a long sip from her goblet. She swallowed hard, knowing that she had a clear opportunity right now to tell them both the truth. She could tell them right now and have the row take place in the middle of the Great Hall and have Draco witness it and everything. It wasn't one of her most brilliant ideas, but she couldn't hold off on telling them forever, could she?

"You don't pity Malfoy all of a sudden, do you Hermione?" Harry asked, a drop of anger already apparent in his tone of voice. That was enough to make Hermione completely change her mind. She'd have plenty of time to tell them both, when they all weren't under so much stress. Time was short, yes, but so was her life - and she didn't feel like throwing it away just yet by having her two friends hang her in the Great Hall.

"I - well, I just think he's going through some hard times," she said, racking her brain for a steady and liable excuse. None were coming to her quick enough though. As was her luck.

"Yup. You do pity him," Ron said, settling the matter. Hermione sighed, shaking her head and advising herself not to say anything. It was better that they make up their own excuses.

"Where were you before dinner anyway, Hermione?" Ron asked suddenly. It seemed he wasn't done tormenting her further. "We couldn't find you in the library or in the common room. Where'd you go off to?"

She was again stuck without a good excuse and no time to think up one. "I...umm, I was - I went for a walk."

"You know we're not allowed to walk around the grounds by ourselves, Hermione," Harry scolded.

"I wasn't alone. I was...I, umm, I was with Gin-"

"Don't lie and say you were with my sister," Ron interjected, "because we found her and she didn't know where you had gone to either." Hermione was starting to get angry. It shouldn't be so hard to tell them the truth, but when they played Twenty Questions with her it wasn't helping the situation!

"For your information, I wasn't alone!" she said loudly through clenched teeth. Harry continued eating, but Hermione could tell he didn't believe her. Ron however, remained persistent.

"Then who were you with -?" Ron began, but Hermione interrupted him.

"It's none of your business," she snapped. And with that, Hermione took a last bite of food with her fork and left the table. Inside her head she was screaming at herself for what had just happened. She should have just told them and gotten it done and over with, that would have been the most sure fire way to get them rattled up. She knew Draco had witnessed that, but she refused to look in his direction. His eyes would be on her, and he would not be happy at all.

If Hermione was honest with herself - completely honest - she knew that Harry and Ron would rave. That was a given fact for anyone who knew the history between them all. Harry and Ron would be none too happy that she was being friendly with Malfoy, let alone spending time alone with him. She'd have to find a way to convince them, to persuade them to trust her judgment...

As she was about to climb the stone steps to her common room, a pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders, and Hermione felt the familiar sensations of being pulled from behind into the closet in the entrance hall. Once she was surrounded by the smell of polish and cleaning wax, Hermione spoke.

"I'm sorry Draco." These were the first words that left her mouth once she was enveloped by the darkness of the confined space. In an instant though, a light was coming from Draco's wand, but she didn't look up. She decided staring at the floor was better than seeing Draco's eyes.

"What was that all about anyway?" he asked, but his voice was strangely gentle. Hermione wasn't expecting this tone of voice; she had figured he would be accusing and slightly angry. This forced Hermione to look up a little, although her eyesight went no higher than his collar.

"Hermione..."Draco said, and again his voice was different. One of his fingers came under her chin and lifted her eyes so she was looking at his face. The first thing Hermione noticed was that his eyes weren't angry, and his face actually looked amused.

"Harry and Ron's faces from far away were priceless," he said. Hermione was confused by these words.

"But, I didn't tell them Draco..."

Draco actually smiled, if you could even call it that. A corner of his mouth lifted, and Hermione didn't recognize it as his trademark smirk. "I know you didn't. But they looked awfully confused." This made Hermione smile.

"They were pestering me. And I had a good opportunity to tell them, but -"

Draco stopped her. "I know. I used to pester them myself. It's not easy to not get annoyed by their stupidity."

"Draco," Hermione said warningly. But she looked away again.

"Patience Hermione," Draco murmured. "I know you'll them in good time."

"You wanted me to tell them before the War began though," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "I need more than patience if that's the case."

"I won't burden you to tell them until we're both sure that they're ready to hear it. But this just might be the thing that will enable Harry to fight like a man," Draco joked. Hermione couldn't help herself a smiled a small smile.

"I better get going Draco," she said. As she put her hand on the door handle and turned it, she turned back and asked, "Did anyone see you follow me out?"

Draco gave his trademark smirk. "Well, actually, you followed me out. I could tell you were liable to storm off in a huff. And I was right." And with these final words, Draco pushed open the door so that Hermione stumbled out.

Hermione knew better than to look back at the door she had just emerged from. Instead to eyed the entrance hall to see if anyone had seen her. When she was satisfied that it was empty, she gave a slight kick to the door in which Draco was hiding behind and walked up the stone steps. She went slowly, making sure her feet made enough noise for Draco to hear behind the door. Counting each step, she looked back at the door when she got to the top and saw Draco emerge quickly and stealthily. Without a glance anywhere, he made his way back to dinner.

"We're going to have to stop these secret games if I ever plan on telling Harry and Ron," Hermione thought to herself.

Continuing on her way, Hermione began thinking again about how she was going to tell her friends. Draco was right - it wasn't going to be easy. Harry and Draco deserved the truth, but they needed to be told at a time when they wouldn't go into hysterics about it. And she couldn't tell one and then the other - they'd reprimand her for not telling them at the same time.

Truth be told, this was a difficult task. And with no idea of when the final stages of War would begin, Hermione knew she was hard pressed for time. She'd have to tell them within the next few days, if not sooner. Tonight wouldn't give her much time, she knew that. Right after dinner Harry would be meeting Professor Dumbledore for a one-on-one practice lesson. Harry had been going since their seventh year had started, learning some more in-depth teachings and training methods. Harry always came back late and exhausted, and usually more irritable than he had been. Hermione knew he was stressed not just by lack of sleep and piles of homework, but also from the threat of Voldemort heavy on his own shoulders. Dumbledore worked him hard now that he was older and more aware, and simply because time was short these days.

Giving the password to the Fat Lady, who was already celebrating the end of another year early with her friend Violet, Hermione scrambled inside the common room and sat down in an empty chair before the fire. Crookshanks was meandering around under tables, and when he saw Hermione, he perched himself on her lap and purred as she scratched behind his ears.

Hermione glanced at the table where Ron and Harry had played chess earlier. She chuckled to herself, remembering how she had Binded their legs so that she could escape to the glen for awhile. The moment had worked perfectly. Pigwidgeon had come into the common room, happily delivering a letter to Ron, and as Ron read the letter, Hermione wrote hers and sent it off to Draco. She knew she'd have plenty of time before dinner, and Ron and Harry would just think she was running off to the library again. After the letter was sent, she did the spell on their legs and left, leaving them to their chess game.

Apparently, neither of them had noticed she'd done it, even though she'd come back before the spell had worn off. They'd still been sitting there, quite intent on the game. The memory made Hermione smile.

"What's so funny, Hermione?" Hermione turned and saw that Ginny had come back from dinner.

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing...I was just thinking."

Ginny sat down in the armchair next to her. She continued to peer cautiously at her friend, who was absentmindedly petting Crookshanks now.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked. Ginny noticed that Hermione had a far away and puzzled look on her face. She seemed to be deep in thought. "You've seemed to be in another place ever since exams ended. Is anything bothering you?"

Hermione looked up, studying the red-haired girl curiously. Ginny looked concerned, and Hermione wondered if Ginny would understand her dilemma, or if Ginny would be just as unpredictable as Harry and Ron. When she didn't say anything though, Ginny spoke up again.

"Is it about Harry and Ron?" she asked, her voice slightly lower since people had started returning from dinner. Hermione glanced at the chess table again, staring at it as if her two friends were actually sitting there and playing at the moment.

"Yes...and no," Hermione answered. Ginny looked innocently perplexed, but didn't prompt Hermione for answers right away. Instead, she sat there waiting to see if Hermione would continue, which she did. "How do you tell your two friends something that they may not like, but you promised someone you would tell them?"

Ginny's face became passive and concerned. Hermione continued to stare at the chess table. Neither of them said anything for a few moments, until Ginny piped up another question.

"Well...what is it that you have to tell them? How bad is it?"

Hermione gave a short laugh. "Bad enough that they may never let me out of Hogwarts castle until I'm eighty-two."

Ginny let out a low whistle. "Your best bet Hermione would be to just let them find out on their own. Remember when you wouldn't tell either one of them who you were going to the Yule Ball with?"

Hermione thought about this for a second, but just as quickly the idea left her head. Ron and Harry weren't too swift on matters such as that. They were good at picking up when something was different, such as when Hermione had had the Time Turner and hadn't told them. But her two friends could never figure out anything completely on their own, never without her help. To this day they still forgot that you couldn't Apparte or Dissaparate on Hogwarts Grounds.

Ginny could tell that that idea wasn't working for Hermione. "Well, I know Ron has a way of over-reacting. Just tell him flat out and get it over with. Try telling Harry when he hasn't just had a bad day."

The most truthful information had helped Hermione the most. She herself had known that there was really only one way to tell her friends, and Ginny couldn't have said it better. Turning away from the chess table, Hermione smiled at Ginny and said, "Thanks."

"Not a problem Hermione," Ginny replied. "If you need any more advice you know I'm here." Ginny began to pull a book out of her bag when Hermione spoke up again.

"Actually," she began, cautiously thinking of how she wanted to word her next sentence. "It's about a boy -"

"I figured it would be when you said my brother and Harry wouldn't let you out of the castle until you were old." Ginny placed the book on her lap. "And it must be a boy they don't happen to like." Ginny eyed Hermione with a devilish smirk and knowing glint in her eye.

"It's so much easier said than done," Hermione complained. "We're just friends. Well - friends by complete accident. Ok, maybe it wasn't an accident; he did follow me, but then -"

"Shush, Hermione." Hermione looked at Ginny, and then snapped her mouth shut, looking to see what the red-haired girl had to say. "This guy obviously wants you to be honest with Harry and Ron. So just tell them. Tell them separately if you have to, although that's only if you must - one of them is bound to tell the other before you get the chance."

"That would give me more of a nightmare if that happened," Hermione murmured. She was leaning forward in her chair, elbows on her knees and chin in hand. Ginny could feel the stress coming off her friend in waves.

"First, you will need to calm down if you plan on telling them anything," Ginny replied, a soft laughing sound to her voice. Hermione immediately sat back in the chair and took a deep breath, and then another. "They are your friends Hermione, not executioners!"

This mad Hermione loosen up and laugh. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. They may really kill me once they find out..."

Ginny leaned over and patted Hermione's shoulder. "The boy in question may have a harder time escaping their wrath than you will."

Hermione's eyes suddenly changed, and she looked at Ginny with a serious expression on her face. "I hope they don't hurt him," she said to her, her voice soft and full of confusion. Ginny didn't know what to say for a moment. Hermione looked scared, but she had another look in her eyes, one that Ginny had never seen there before.

"He's a strong man," Ginny replied gently, keeping her hand firmly on Hermione's shoulder. "He's also very clever. He'll outsmart them if they even try to lay a finger on him."

Hermione smiled comfortingly, and leaned over the arm of the chair to hug Ginny again. They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, Ginny having finally opened her book. Hermione went back to petting Crookshanks until Ron and Harry came back from dinner.

"I just don't get it..." Ron mumbled as he and Harry came in through the portrait hole. Both Ginny and Hermione looked up, watching as both of the boys came striding towards them to sit down upon the only chairs left around the fire.

"Don't get what, Ron?" Ginny asked. She averted her eyes back to her book.

Ron leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand. "We were just wondering -" but Ron ceased talking when he saw that Hermione was sitting with Ginny. "Nothing," he said instead. "So Hermione," his tone odd from what it had been a second ago, "where were you before dinner? Who were you with?"

Hermione blanched, although it was hardly noticeable. Ginny turned, and her eyes were a little wider. She looked curiously at Hermione's reaction.

Trying to recover quickly, she said to Ron, "That is none of your business."

Harry leaned forward in his seat, his eyes serious behind his glasses. "Actually, it is Hermione," he said. He seemed to be losing his patience, of what little he had left. "We're worried about you. It's not safe out there."

Hermione knew she should be grateful for their generosity. She also knew she should tell them now. Yet, when she saw the condescending looks on both the boys' faces, and their lack of trust in her judgment - it made her balk. She knew that deep down both of them cared a great deal. She had to look past the exterior and remember that she'd known both of them for years.

Sighing, Hermione said, "I appreciate you both caring about me, but I know it's not safe. And I wasn't alone; I was with a trustworthy individual."

"Then why can't you tell us?" Ron demanded. He sounded hurt, but he also sounded confused. Not like she could blame them, really. She wasn't being very helpful with information.

"Ron," Hermione said, giving him a serious look, "both you and Harry would lock me up in Gryffindor Tower forever if you knew."

"Then how is this person trustworthy if we would try to keep you away from them, Hermione?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head, aware that they weren't getting the idea.

"You both don't trust him," she said, trying to sound patient. "But I do."

Ron looked pleased. "So it's a guy!" he said. "You said we don't trust him! You've been wandering around the grounds with a guy and you can't tell us who it is?"

"It's not that I can't tell you Ron -" Hermione began, but Ron interrupted again.

"Well then why won't you Hermione? What type of guy is this that you can't tell your two best friends? He must be a raving lunatic or something!"

"I already told you he's trustworthy, so don't call him a raving lunatic!" Hermione remarked scathingly. "You're so typical and judgmental! It's just a guy!"

"This isn't like you Hermione," Harry intervened. He looked quite upset and rightfully angry, but Hermione knew telling both of them right now wasn't a good idea. They were already too riled up and jumping down her throat for answers that they'd only get angrier. She knew she shouldn't be putting it off; she had to have patience and tell them when they were ready.

At that moment Ginny spoke up, her voice steady and loud enough to break the tension.

"I think I'll go read upstairs," she said simply, standing up from her chair and giving a sympathetic look towards Hermione. "Good luck telling them," she replied gently, and then took her book and headed towards her dorm.

Ron watched his sister go and then turned on Hermione. "You told my sister who you've been seeing, but you can't tell me or Harry?" He looked genuinely angry about this, and Hermione was unsure how to respond at first.

"I didn't tell her who I -"

"Then why did she wish you luck?" he demanded loudly. He was sitting on the edge of his chair, leaning towards Hermione with his hands firmly on the armrests. Harry was leaning back, eyeing Hermione questioningly.

"I didn't tell her who the guy is!" Hermione began quickly before Ron could intrude again. "She offered advice! That was all."

Ron moved further to the edge. "What kind of advice?" he asked.

Hermione let out a quick breathe and then replied swiftly, "girl advice. And that is truly none of your business!" she snapped finally.

"Why is everything about you none of our business?" Harry remarked back, the harshness to his voice making Hermione jump back a little. Crookshanks, who had still been lying across Hermione's lap, gave a giant leap away when Hermione startled. Hermione looked about, seemingly confused but also taking in what Harry had just said.

"Harry, I -"

But Harry kept right on talking, giving Hermione no time to explain. "If you're going to keep secrets, fine then. You've been like this for weeks, disappearing on us and going off without telling us where you're off to. This isn't like you Hermione. Why can't you just trust us?"

Hermione felt generally awful. Then anger on Ron's freckled face and the glare that Harry offered lessened the anger but made her choke up, knowing what her next words to them were going to be.

"I do trust you," she said softly, unable to find her voice. Looking down, she continued. "But you're both not ready for the truth."

Both of the boys exchanged quick glances at one another. Harry's eyebrows knitted together, and he looked much angrier than he did before. Ron's mouth was slightly open, as if he didn't believe what Hermione had just said.

Suddenly, Harry stood up, making Hermione jump back again. Ron did as well. "I'm late to see Dumbledore," Harry said coldly, his eyes on Hermione. He looked at her for a minute, a disbelieving look on his face, and then turned to Ron, said good-bye and left out the portrait hole.

"Look what you've gone and done now!" Ron said hotly, jumping up from his seat. He was towering over her now, looming over her seat, and Hermione felt her anger rising again.

"He wouldn't have left so angry if you and Harry would just understand!" she replied angrily, also standing up to face Ron.

"Understand what Hermione? You won't tell us anything! You're keeping secrets!"

By now, the two of them had gained the attention of all whom were in the common room. But Hermione and Ron failed to notice their audience around them in the now hushed room.

"I have good reason for keeping quiet about my secrets!" Hermione remarked. Her voice was shaking with repressed anger and tears from Harry's stinging words earlier. "You both need to understand that you have to trust me!"

"How can we trust you Hermione when you go sneaking off with some guy and you won't even tell us who it is?" Both Ron and Hermione were shouting now, the occupants of the room glancing at one another in alarm and hoping McGonagall wouldn't come in to see what all the fuss was about.

"You wouldn't believe me -"

"Well we don't believe you now either, do we?" Ron interrupted. Hermione was too angry to continue this conversation any longer. She took a single deep breath, and then pushed past Ron on her way to the portrait hole. "Where are you going?" he asked.

But Hermione didn't answer. She didn't even look back. She was headed towards the library. The Fat Lady said nothing when she saw Hermione striding down the hall, fists clenching and unclenching and her breath ragged as if she'd just come back from a long run. Down the secret passage she went, attempting to swallow her bad thoughts and quench her anger. She failed though, as a single tear slipped down her check and dropped onto her collar.

She strode into the library, receiving an angry look from Madam Pince for banging the door. Not caring, Hermione rounded a few book shelves, and then came across who she was looking for: Draco.

He was sitting at their usual table, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with the spare quill he'd taken from her. His legs were stretched out underneath the table as usual, but when he saw Hermione and the tears that had forced themselves out, he jumped out of his seat so quickly he upended it. Draco did not know how to deal with crying females.

They both stood still for a moment, Draco eyeing her warily as if waiting for her to explode as Hermione stood there, sniffling freely. Finally, Hermione sat down rather hard onto a chair and cried loudly. Draco, still completely unsure of what to do, kneeled down slowly next to her chair and placed his hands on her arm. He let her cry for awhile, knowing what had happened and not the least bit surprised she'd come running here to find him. He'd figured she'd show up sometime during the course of the evening, but he hasn't expected her to be in hysterical tears.

Finally, Hermione choked back the rest of her sobs, transfigured the quill Draco stole from her into a handkerchief, and dried her eyes.

"They're both absolutely impossible," she complained. She sniffled again and dabbed at her slowly drying eyes. "They don't like that I'm hiding things from them. They don't trust me."

Draco continued to kneel beside her, quiet and strong, his hands on her arm in as much of a comforting manner as he could muster. Hermione hadn't accepted anything more from him; she'd just needed to release her frustrations.

"I'll tell them, Draco, I promise I'll tell them," she said as she performed a drying charm on the wet handkerchief. "But they aren't ready for the truth. Or at least neither of them was ready to hear it at that moment. I don't think they'll ever accept that I am a girl and have more feelings than they can even begin to fathom."

Hermione realized that Draco was still awfully quiet, and looked down at him beside her chair. He looked the way he always did; emotionally collected and calm. He was being her rock at the moment, almost as if it were an instinct to him. This made Hermione smile, and she leaned back in her chair and relaxed, taking his fingers from her arm and holding them in her own hand.

* * *

Hermione was dreaming, only the dream she was having was a memory from a few days ago. She was following Harry and Ron out of a gruesome Potions class where Snape had assigned a horrible essay on the importance of asphodel that was due next class. Hermione watched as Draco walk out of class ahead of her; she was wary that he'd try to snatch her from thin air again. The wink he had given her had indicated something was going to happen.

The trio was on their way to dinner in the Great Hall, climbing the dungeon steps hurriedly so to get first dibs on the good food that house elves provided; Hermione though was lagging behind the boys. There was a secret passage coming up soon, right before the last set of stairs into the Great Hall. The passageway was on the left. Like a pro, she faced away from it so it was easier for her to be grabbed and quickly.

In the next moment, she felt hands circle her waist and drag her into the passage way behind a tapestry. One hand quickly came up and covered her mouth, listening to Harry and Ron's voices slowly fade away, completely unaware that Hermione was no longer following them.

"Does Snape always have to be the worst one with homework?" Ron was complaining. "That paper will take all week, it will."

"Between him and McGonagall, I don't know who is worse," Harry said. Their voices were getting quieter when Draco released his hold from her mouth.

"Library tonight?" he asked swiftly, not turning Hermione around to face him. She nodded her head once.

"Well we could ask Hermione for help on the essay, couldn't we?" Ron was saying. Hermione stiffened, hoping they wouldn't turn around and see that she'd disappeared. But of course such wasn't her luck. "Hermione?" Ron asked. "Hermione? Where'd she go?"

Their voices were still far away, and in another instant she felt Draco's hands on her back and pushing her back into the corridor. Ron and Harry had already turned the bend on the stairs so they didn't see her stumble into the hallway, although a couple of first years did. She fled past them, pulling her bag higher on her shoulder.

"Where'd you go Hermione?" Harry asked when she reappeared. She stopped, panting for breathe on the bottom step.

"Yeah," Ron said. "We thought you were right behind us."

"I was," Hermione said, pretending to have run a long way to catch up with them. "Sorry, I was behind you, but I had to -"

"Move it Granger, you're in my way," came a drawling voice from behind. Hermione looked as she felt Draco brush by her arm. He was had stopped to stand on the stairs between her and Harry and Ron. Ron was looking at him with the deepest loathing. Harry, on the other hand, was looking back and forth between Hermione and Draco with a curious look.

"Leave her alone Draco," Ron was saying. "Just move along."

"I'm going Weasley. But not because you told me to." He cast Hermione a look, one that the boys would interpret as scathing, but one Hermione knew meant otherwise. Draco slowly walked off, looking Ron right in the eyes with a straight face and a smirk.

"Come on Hermione," Harry said quietly. He had grabbed the back of Ron's robes and was keeping him from running after Draco and pummeling him. Hermione followed, watching Ron fume with seven years of repressed anger. Harry, on the other hand, kept passing curious looks at Hermione. Looks that means he knew something was going on but he couldn't fit the pieces together perfectly.

Hermione jumped up in her sleep.

It took a moment for her to regain herself and remember that it was a memory. She had been dreaming of what had happened a few days ago, before she had asked Draco to meet her on the grove.

The look Harry had given her had been the same look he'd given her earlier today when they were arguing in the common room. He was observant enough to guess, less ignorant than Ron really, but still...not brilliant enough to figure it out entirely on his own. But he might not be so surprised when she finally told him. This of course meant that Ron would be the stick in the mud.

Hermione pulled her watch off the nightstand to check the time. It was just after four in the morning, and she was certain she'd never fall asleep again. She'd had trouble falling asleep with her conscience as screwed up as it was already. Draco had been helpful in the library, very quiet and understanding. He hadn't offered unneeded advice. He'd merely listened.

Deciding to go down to the common room, Hermione quietly opened her trunk and pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt. She threw her school robes over everything, and exited after putting her wand in her pocket.

The common room was quiet, and she didn't see anybody right away until she looked by the window and saw Ron. He was lying on a sofa and appeared to be asleep. Hermione wondered what he was doing down her, and decided that despite the argument they'd had yesterday that she'd ask him. Walking quietly towards him, he awoke when she got close, and Hermione stopped, watching as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

"What are you doing down here?" he asked groggily once he'd spotted her. He was dressed in his robes just like she was. Hermione wondered if he'd ever gone up to bed.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," she answered quietly, taking a few more steps closer. Ron moved over on the sofa, but Hermione made no move to sit.

"I was waiting for Harry to come back from his lesson with Dumbledore."

Hermione blinked. "You mean he still hasn't returned?" Ron shook his head, his eyes a little more focused.

"What are you doing up? What time is it anyway?" Ron asked.

"It's almost four," Hermione said, now leaning her body on the back of a lone chair. She began to wonder why Harry hadn't returned when Ron spoke up again.

"Where'd you go earlier, Hermione?" he asked quietly.

Hermione let out a quick sigh. "I told you Ron," she said, "I wasn't wandering around the grounds by -"

"No, I meant where'd you go after our - after our row in the common room earlier," he rambled quickly. Neither of them looked at one another.

"Oh." Hermione began fiddling with her fingers. "I went to the library," she replied.

For some reason this made Ron laugh quietly.

"What is so funny about that?" Hermione asked, seemingly offended. Ron continued laughing for another moment before he seemed to contain himself and answered her.

"You always go to the library," he said simply, and this seemed to settle the matter. Hermione smiled softly, as Ron chuckled on for a few more moments. They stayed in silence, both becoming lost in their own thoughts. Hermione could see that Ron kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He still looked half asleep, yawning every once in awhile. His hair was sticking up in odd directions, his robes were wrinkled, and he looked thoroughly haggard.

"Hermione," Ron began after their long minutes of silence.

Hermione turned to look at him. "Yes?" she replied.

Ron looked as if he was unsure of what to say. "Why can't you trust me and Harry?" he asked, and his voice was so quiet Hermione was unsure she'd heard him correctly at first. She looked away and then walked towards the window, watching as early grey light began to show in the morning sky.

"I do trust you both," she replied, but Ron stopped her again.

"Then why won't you tell us?" he asked, and his voice no longer sounded angry, but desperate. Hermione closed her eyes, knowing that her friends were only doing what they'd always done for her and that was look after her well being.

She opened her eyes slowly and exhaled. "Ron," she began. "Both you and Harry are my friends. I know you both better than you think. I promised myself I'd tell you when you were ready. And earlier I knew you weren't."

Ron seemed to take a minute to let this sink in. When he spoke, his voice was still soft, unlike how it usually sounded. "We want to trust you Hermione, but when you tell us things like this and hide things from us we feel offended. I care about you Hermione."

Hermione clung to these words for a moment. She was unsure if she'd ruin this perfectly calm moment by telling him now about her and Draco, but he seemed to be ready to hear it at four thirty in the morning, even considering how much sleep they'd both gotten. Hermione argued with herself, aware that Ron had begun talking again.

"I want you to know Hermione," he was saying, "that you can trust me. Both me and Harry, we're your friends. I want you to trust me, and I - I really want you to prove that..."

But as Ron continued talking, Hermione eyes were trained on the coming dawn. The sky was dusky and dark still, with a little light appearing on the horizon. And on that horizon were moving shapes. Figures were moving, and as she watched more and more began appearing. They were dark and silhouetted against the near-morn. And there seemed to be masses of them, almost as if they were an army preparing for...

It was then that Hermione understood why Harry had never come back from his lesson from Dumbledore. Vaguely Hermione was aware that Ron was still talking and that more and more people were grouping together on the horizon that seemed so far away from their no-longer protected tower.

"Ron," Hermione said, her voice a breathless whisper from the shock. "Ron, they're here. Voldemort and his army...they're here for the final battle."