The Book of Morgan Le Fey

Chapter Twelve: Attack in Hogsmeade

For the next two weeks Ron would start off every day determined to tell Hermione his feelings for her, only to freeze up at the last moment. It was as though someone had placed a Silencing Charm on him every time he attempted to broach the subject of how he felt about her.

Hermione, for her part, was still spending some of her free time with Eddie, but she was vague as to just what was going on between them, and in any case, Ron didn't want to know. Hermione seemed to sense this and said as little as possible.

Meanwhile, the weather got colder and the first snow of the year fell. Their classes became more difficult and the homework load heavier. This, coupled with Quidditch practice, gave Ron a convenient excuse to abort his plan of telling Hermione anything, but Harry and Ginny pestered him daily.

'Just tell her, Ron!' Harry said one Saturday morning at breakfast, after Hermione had left to take a walk. 'If you don't she's going to wind up that prat's girlfriend and I'm going to go mad listening to you moan and mope about it.'

'I'll tell her!' Ron snapped. 'When I'm ready, okay?'

'By the time you're ready we'll all be thirty and Hermione will have married Eddie and had ten kids with him or something,' Ginny said dryly.

'That's not funny,' Ron growled. 'Look, drop it, all right? It's not like I haven't tried. But things are so busy now and...and anyway, I need to work out in my head what I'm going to say.'

Ginny and Harry looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

'Hi, Harry,' said a female voice. Ron looked up as Harry turned around. It was Susan Bones.

'Hi, Susan,' said Harry, and Ron suppressed a smile when he saw Harry go red in the face.

'People are building snowmen outside,' Susan said, looking rather shy and awkward. 'I thought I'd join them. Want to come?'

'Yeah,' said Harry quickly. 'Lemme just...get my winter stuff on.'

Harry, who had always had a healthy appetite in the mornings, left the table with his breakfast nearly uneaten.

'Young love,' Ginny said, looking bemused. 'If only my brother were half as brave as his best mate Harry--'

'Shut it, Ginny.'

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The following evening Ron and Hermione were sitting in the common room, quietly attending to their Transfiguration essays. Ron knew he ought to tell Hermione now, while they were alone, but he couldn't. He found the companionable silence they shared comforting, and he didn't relish the idea of disturbing it by saying something stupid to her.

They looked up when Harry clambered through the portrait hole.

'Hey,' he said.

'Where've you been?' Ron asked absently, scratching out a line on his parchment.

'Oh, uh, studying,' he said. 'With Susan. You know.'

Ron looked up at him and smirked. Harry's face was flushed as his lips looked a bit red, and his normally untidy hair was rather more untidy than usual. He did not have the look of someone who'd been engaging in studying.

'Are you two dating?' Hermione asked briskly. Harry blushed and Ron rolled his eyes.

'Honestly, Hermione, you're so nosy,' he said.

'I was only asking,' she said defensively. 'So, Harry?'

'Well, uh, we're going to Hogsmeade together next weekend,' said Harry. 'But, you know, nothing serious or anything.'

'But you like her,' Hermione pressed.

'Hermione!'

'Yeah, I like her,' said Harry, smiling. 'What are you two doing?' he added, throwing Ron a smug look. Ron glared at him.

'Transfiguration homework,' said Hermione, looking down at her parchment again and adding a few words. 'Have you finished yours?'

'No, I was working on Charms and Potions,' said Harry. 'Good lord, Hermione. Is that your second foot of parchment?'

'Yes,' she said. 'So?'

Harry smiled and shook his head. 'Never mind. You like to cover all the bases. Look, I'm beat. I'm turning in, see you two tomorrow then.'

'Right,' said Ron, waving a hand at him but not looking up from his homework as he crossed out yet another line on his parchment, which was nearly full.

Harry was halfway up the spiral staircase when he gave a shout of pain and stumbled.

'Harry!' Hermione leapt up from the couch, followed immediately by Ron. Ron reached the stairs first, owing to his long strides, and caught Harry before he fell.

'What's wrong, mate?' Ron asked.

'My scar,' Harry said, pressing his hand against it. 'Dammit.'

'Ron, bring him down here,' Hermione said, beckoning to the sofa. Ron gripped Harry around the shoulder and helped him back down the stairs, where he sank gratefully onto the sofa, still clutching at his scar.

'It's Voldemort again,' he said darkly. 'Something happened.'

'Is he...is he happy again?' Ron asked, shuddering.

'Not happy,' said Harry. 'More like...anxious. I saw something, too. A corridor. It was all silver and had these weird metal doors.'

'That sounds like the Department of Mysteries,' said Hermione.

'No, it wasn't,' said Harry. 'It was different, the place looked brand new. And there were all these red markings on the doors. And the doors, they had glass windows, and it was really brightly lit. And there were people in it, wearing these long white coats.'

'Long white coats?' Hermione repeated. 'That...that sounds like a laboratory. Do you remember anything else?'

'No,' said Harry, breathing heavily as the pain in his scar subsided.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, then at Harry, and realized they would again be waiting on tenterhooks until the next morning, when the next issue of The Daily Prophet arrived.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next morning they hurried into breakfast. Ron had completely forgotten about his plan to tell Hermione the truth that day; he was too worked up over Harry's latest vision and even though Hermione looked particularly pretty he couldn't quite bring himself to think of romantic things. They sat down to eat and glanced repeatedly up toward the front of the Great Hall, where Professor Sinistra and Professor Snape were sitting.

Finally, it happened. A screech and the flutter of wings indicated the morning post. A barn owl dropped Hermione's latest copy of The Daily Prophet neatly on the table next to her cereal bowl and flew off after she had put a Knut in its leg sack. She yanked open the paper, nearly tearing it, and looked at it wildly, then gasped.

'Listen to this, listen to this,' she said, her voice lowered to an excited whisper as she read the passage in an article on page three. 'Three separate break-ins at hospital research laboratories in Europe in the past two days. One in Edinburgh, one in London and one in Paris. Muggle authorities and security workers at each lab insist nothing was taken but that the perpetrators were not apprehended. The Acting Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones, told Daily Prophet reporters that the Ministry does not believe the burglary attempts are related but that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement are monitoring the situation for any possible sign of Death Eater involvement.'

She looked up at them and her eyes were wide and gleaming. 'I knew it, I was right,' she breathed. 'Voldemort's trying to make a biological weapon.'

'A what?' Ron asked, staring at her.

'A biological weapon,' said Hermione. 'A disease or a germ that'll make loads of people really sick so that they die.'

'But it says in the article that the labs say nothing was taken,' said Harry, pointing to a line on the paper.

'Of course they'd say that, Harry,' Hermione said. 'Do you know how many laboratories there are around the world creating and breeding deadly viruses and diseases? They're not going to want to admit it if someone, especially a wizard or a witch--half the Muggle world doesn't even believe we exist, remember--made off with a bunch of test tubes full of Ebola or something. Think of the panic that would cause.'

'What's Ebola?' Ron asked.

'It's a deadly virus that originated in Africa,' said Hermione, very fast. 'It starts in an indigenous animal and somehow infects a person, probably through a bite or a scratch. It's not always fatal but if it does become fatal, it turns the person's internal organs to mush and they wind up bleeding to death through all their orifices.'

'Euh! Hermione, I'm eating here!' Ron said, disgusted.

'You asked,' she said loftily.

'So, you're saying that Voldemort is trying to get a hold of a germ or virus and somehow spread it around and make people sick and die?' Harry said.

'What else could it be?' Hermione said. 'Think about it. Those break-ins never would have made The Daily Prophet if the Ministry wasn't worried about this sort of thing.' She stood up abruptly, folding the paper haphazardly and stuffing it into her bag.

'I'm going to the library,' she announced. 'I'll see you in lessons in a bit.'

Ron and Harry stared after her.

'Wow,' said Ron. 'Once she gets on a roll--'

'--there's no stopping her,' said Harry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The promise of the first Hogsmeade weekend might normally have been an enjoyable idea for Ron, but this year it brought only aggravation.

'I can't BELIEVE we have to babysit the third years,' he grumbled to Hermione on their way to meet Katie, Eddie and the rest of the prefects. 'How're we supposed to have any fun if we have to watch over those little toerags?'

'Ron!' Hermione snapped. 'You know why. What with Voldemort and the Death Eaters on the loose--'

'Yeah, yeah, I know,' Ron said sourly, adjusting his prefect badge on his robes. 'I was just really hoping to try some fire-whisky this time around. Just kidding!' he added when he saw her murderous look.

'Hello, Hermione,' came a smooth, silky voice. Ron suppressed a groan and settled for rolling his eyes, but Hermione didn't see.

'Hi, Eddie,' she said, beaming at him.

'Hey, there, Weasley,' Eddie said, smiling an oily smile. 'Ready to play wetnurse to the rugrats?'

'I can hardly wait,' Ron said through gritted teeth.

'Hi, Ron, Hermione!' said Katie as she entered the corridor.

'Hey, Katie,' said Ron. 'Hey, I forgot to ask. Uh, how was your date with Neville, at the ball?'

'Oh, that,' she said, smiling. 'We're just friends. He's a nice bloke, Neville. Bit shy, really. We had fun, though.'

The corridor was filling up with students. The caretaker, Argus Filch, came hobbling down toward the main doors followed by his scrawny, mangy-looking cat, Mrs. Norris.

'All right, all right you lot,' Filch snapped. 'Line up single-file, eh? Lemme see your permission forms.' '

We'll just go on ahead, Mr. Filch,' said Eddie smoothly, 'if you don't mind.'

Filch grunted something at Eddie that sounded like 'Bloody great sod' to Ron's ears. Or maybe Ron was just thinking that.

'Shall we?' Eddie asked, putting a proprietary arm around Hermione's shoulder.

'Oh, okay,' she said, blushing. Ron clenched his fists and tried not to punch the wall.

All in all the day wasn't quite as bad as Ron had feared. True, he had to endure watching Eddie's repeated attempts to lead Hermione away from the crowd, undoubtedly to somewhere more private, but Hermione dissuaded him every time, no doubt out of a sense of duty to the third years, who ran about Hogsmeade as though Christmas had come early. That, at least, was something.

Ron saw Harry and Susan Bones nearby, strolling slowly and talking. Harry was holding Susan's hand and they were both eating massive candy canes.

'Settle down, you lot!' Anthony Goldstein snapped to a group of third year Ravenclaws. 'Who wants to go to Honeydukes?'

The third years squealed an affirmative and followed Anthony and Padma into the candy shoppe.

'Having fun, Ron?' Ginny asked. She was with Dean Thomas and they were munching on Chocolate Frogs.

'Yeah, it's great,' he said. 'I get to play mummy to a bunch of third years while Eddie keeps hanging all over Hermione. At least she takes her prefect duties seriously.'

'You might quit sulking and try to talk to her,' Ginny suggested. 'Meantime, we're off.'

'Where are you going?' Ron demanded, eyeing Dean suspiciously.

'Madam Puddifoot's, for coffees,' said Ginny, rolling her eyes. 'If that's okay, DAD.'

'Ha ha,' said Ron in a bored voice. 'See you around, then.'

'Ron.' He looked up and saw that Hermione was in front of him. She looked a bit put out about something.

'What's up?' he asked.

'Eddie,' she said. 'I mean, he's nice and all but he won't leave me alone. It's starting to get on my nerves a little.'

'Ha!' Ron shouted triumphantly. Then, immediately realizing that shouting triumphantly might look a bit bad, covered it with a rather dramatic and realistic fit of coughing.

'Are you all right?' Hermione asked, patting him on the back.

'Fine,' he pretended to choke. 'Fine. Uh, I think Eddie's talking to Katie,' he added, pointing. Indeed, Eddie was deep in conversation with Katie about something or other and he was leering down at her with his slick smile plastered on his face.

'Well, he certainly looks occupied,' said Hermione, sounding both annoyed and relieved. 'Let's go before he sees me.'

Ron bit back another triumphant yell and instead said, 'Hermione, we're supposed to be watching the third years, remember?'

'I know,' she said testily. 'Let's take them to the Three Broomsticks, shall we? I'm freezing and could do with a butterbeer.'

'Good idea,' Ron said, wishing he could find a clever way to lead her off somewhere private himself so that he could tell her how he felt and get it off his chest at last.

Instead he and Hermione shouted at the Gryffindor third years to follow them to the cozy pub, which was run by Madam Rosmerta, a pretty middle-aged witch with a very warm manner. The third years spread themselves out among many tables while Ron and Hermione took a table close to the door to keep a better eye on them. Ron went to the bar, fetched two butterbeers and brought the steaming, foaming mugs back to the table. 'Cheers,' said Hermione, raising her glass and clinking it against his.

'Cheers,' he said, and he took a long swig, warmth instantly pouring down his throat and into his cold feet.

He set his mug down and Hermione giggled.

'What?' he asked.

'You've got foam all over your face,' she said, giggling again.

'Oh,' he said, blushing, and he wiped at his face with his sleeve.

'You missed a spot,' she said. 'Here.' She reached across the table and brushed the top of his lip with her thumb. Ron felt a jolt of electricity race up his spine. He laughed nervously. Hermione smiled; she was rather pink in the face.

'You...you should have done that to my nose when we met on the train,' Ron said.

'What?' said Hermione.

'Remember, when we met?' Ron said, feeling his ears get very hot again. 'On the train to school first year? You told me I had dirt on my nose.'

'Oh, that,' Hermione said, blushing more deeply. 'You remember that?'

'Course I do,' said Ron, looking down and laughing nervously again. 'How could I forget that bossy little girl who had memorized all her school books? You were helping Neville look for his toad and you barged in and just started yammering on and on.'

'I did not "yammer,"' Hermione said with a defensive note in her voice, but she was suppressing a smile. 'I was just very nervous, that's all.'

'I didn't know geniuses could get nervous,' Ron said, trying for a light, teasing tone and instead sounding slightly strangled by nerves.

Hermione blushed again. 'I'm not a genius,' she said. 'I just...read a lot.'

They looked at each other for a long moment. Ron swallowed a lump in his throat and heard the voice in his head, the same persistent voice in his head that had been there ever since he talked to Bill, urge him yet again to tell Hermione the truth. He took a deep breath and looked around at the pub; the third years were all chattering away happily, ignoring them. Their table was small and private and it was so noisy that no one would have heard them.

Tell her, the voice urged. He took another breath and looked at her. She had a very expectant look on her face, as though she were waiting for him to say something. He took yet another breath.

'Hermione,' he began. 'Um, well, there's something...I need to tell you.'

'Yes?' she said, her eyes wide.

His stomach was flopping around so much that he thought it might pop out of his mouth. He swallowed again.

'Uh, well,' said Ron. 'See, lately I've been, uh...you've been...well. There's this...person, see. A girl, actually. And...and I fancy her a little. Actually, I fancy her a lot. But...she doesn't know and I'm not really sure how to tell her. I mean...she might laugh at me or something.'

'She wouldn't laugh,' Hermione said quickly, and she placed her hand over his.

Ron felt another jolt of electricity in his spine. 'How do you know?' he asked.

'Because...because if she did, she'd be a really awful person,' said Hermione.

'She's not an awful person,' said Ron. 'She's really...she's really cool.'

Ron mentally kicked himself. Cool? the voice inside his head raged. Cool? What about brave, or smart, or beautiful, or fun? Cool! Honestly!

'Do I know her?' Hermione asked, still holding his hand. Without totally realizing he was doing it, Ron laced his fingers with hers. He was tingling all over.

'Yeah,' he said. His mouth going very dry, so he swallowed. 'Anyway, I've been trying to come up with a way to tell her for a while but every time I do I get really nervous and choke up. But I think I'm finally ready to tell her this time.'

He took another deep breath, and reached for her other hand.

'Hermione?'

'Yes?'

She leaned in a little closer, and Ron could smell lilacs. He vaguely noticed that he was holding both her hands now.

'What I mean to say is, I really like--' he began.

An earsplitting scream cut him off.

'What the--'

Ron and Hermione leapt up from the table and yanked open the door to the pub, for the scream had come from outside. The snow was glowing with a sickly green light.

'Ron, look!' Hermione shrieked, pointing to the sky.

Ron looked up. A huge green skull with a snake undulating in its mouth was hovering above them. Several Hufflepuffs were standing in the square, yelling and pointing up at it in terror.

'The Dark Mark!' Ron and Hermione yelled together.

'Ron!' Bill was running at them, his wand clutched in his hand, his hair falling out of his ponytail. Behind him was Professor McGonagall. 'Get the third years back to school. Now!'

'But--'

'Listen to your brother, Mr. Weasley!' McGonagall snapped, rushing after him with her own wand clutched tightly in her hand.

'Come on, Ron!' Hermione yelled. The third years were pouring out of the pub to see the source of the commotion. Several girls screamed and the lot of them began to run in all directions.

'Wait!' Ron yelled, pulling out his wand. 'Don't panic, you lot! Get back here!'

Hermione yanked out her wand and pointed it at a group of third years. 'Immobilius!' she shouted, and the third years froze in place, their feet as though stuck to the frozen ground. She pointed her wand at another clump of fleeing third years and performed the same spell. Then she pointed her wand at her own throat and muttered 'Sonorus.'

'Listen to me!' she yelled, her voice magically magnified. 'Third year Gryffindors, line up single file behind me and walk directly to the castle. Do not run and DON'T PANIC.' She pointed her wand at her throat and muttered 'Quietus.'

'Ron,' she snapped. 'Bring up the rear.'

'Right,' said Ron, in a slight daze and impressed with Hermione's quick thinking. 'Third years, follow Hermione. I'm right behind you!' he yelled.

'Finite,' Hermione said, pointing her wand at the frozen third years. They went mobile again and quickly formed a line.

'Now let's go!' she shouted to them, and Ron was amazed to see that to a one they obeyed, marching almost militarily behind her in the direction of the castle. He followed behind them, wand out, his eyes scanning the square. The third years did not run but they did walk so briskly they might as well have been running.

'Ron!' a female voice yelled. Ron turned and saw Ginny and Dean jogging up to them. 'What's going on? Who sent the Dark Mark?'

'We don't know,' said Ron. 'Just get yourselves inside, okay?' Ginny, normally so quick to argue when Ron bossed her around, only nodded, took Dean's hand, and together they joined the third years in line.

'That's it,' Hermione was saying, and she stood to one side to let them pass through the gates onto the school grounds. Professor Sinistra was there to greet them.

'I'll take it from here, Miss Granger,' she said, ushering the third years toward the castle doors.

'Thanks, Professor,' said Hermione, and she turned to Ron.

'Hermione,' said Ron, something just occurring to him. 'Where's Harry?'

She gasped. 'He was with Susan!'

'We have to find them,' Ron said. 'Come on!' He started back toward the square, Hermione at his heels.

'Slow down, Ron!' she yelled. 'I can't keep up with you, your damn legs are too long!'

Under normal circumstances Ron might have chuckled to hear Hermione swear, but he was too frightened right now to think of anything but finding Harry and Susan. Harry would have seen the Dark Mark; he might have even felt it coming before it did. But what if a Death Eater was nearby, or worse, some Dementors? What if Harry and Susan were trapped? What if they had been taken?

The only people left in the square now along with Ron and Hermione were the teachers; the shop-owners had all shut and locked their windows. Ron and Hermione looked around desperately, trying to discern where Harry and Susan might have gone. The Dark Mark had been erased from the sky but the green mist still hovered.

'Should we split up?' Hermione suggested.

'No way,' said Ron. 'If there are Dementors around or Death Eaters we don't want to get caught alone. Dammit! Which way did they go? I wasn't paying attention!'

'That way!' Hermione said, pointing northeast. 'I remember now. Come on!' She started to run up the High Street with Ron at her heels, and they veered right and found themselves down a narrow alleyway. The sickly green leftover mist from the Dark Mark left strange, misshapen shadows against the back walls of the shops and on the cobblestone street.

Up ahead, about a hundred feet away, Ron saw movement. Something or someone was hiding behind a huge barrel that was standing just outside Puffington's Pipe Tobacco Shop.

'Stop!' Ron snapped in a whisper; Hermione collided into him, but he was so tall he didn't move.

'What?' Hermione whispered.

'Look,' Ron hissed. 'Something's up there.'

Hermione nodded. She was white faced and looked very scared.

'Come on,' Ron whispered. 'Stay behind me.'

They crept up the alleyway slowly, not wanting to startle whatever it was that was hiding behind the barrel. Their wands were held out in front of them. Hermione was trembling, but her wand hand was remarkably steady.

Suddenly something burst from behind the barrel--a short, squat shape that looked like that of a man. A high-pitched, reedy voice shouted 'Reducto!' and a jet of white light shot out.

'Ron, look out!' Hermione screamed, throwing herself against him as the roof of Frobisher's Fiddle Factory exploded and brick and shingles rained down at them.

'Wingardium Leviosa!' Hermione yelled, pointing her wand at the rubble. It froze in mid-air.

'Come on!' Ron yelled, and he hurtled toward the short man who'd shot the Reductor Curse at them. 'He's getting away!'

'Ron, wait!' Hermione yelled, dashing after him.

Ron shot around the corner, Hermione just behind him, to see the squat man running heavily in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

'Stupefy!' Ron yelled, pointing his wand at the fleeing wizard, but his spell went wide and hit a tree instead, causing the snow on it to fall with a whump. For a split second all Ron could see was white, then his eyes spotted movement on the snowy ground. But the man wasn't there. It was a rat. A very sickly looking, unhealthy rat.

'Scabbers?' said Ron, shocked, his legs no longer working. He raised his wand again but the rat skittered madly off into the forest, and in the next second Ron heard a loud bang.

'Ron!' Hermione panted, catching up with him. 'Are you mad? You might have been killed!'

'Hermione,' said Ron, turning to her. 'It was Wormtail. He was here.'

'What?'

'That man,' said Ron. 'I saw him, but then there was just a rat. It was Wormtail. I know it.'

'That's all fine and good, Ron,' said Hermione impatiently. 'But we haven't found Harry and Susan yet!'

'We're here!' a voice called. Ron and Hermione whirled around to see Harry and Susan staggering toward them. Harry looked disheveled. There was snow in his hair and a bruise on his left cheek, and his glasses were cracked, but he was uninjured. Susan, however, was bleeding from a gash in her shoulder and walking with a pronounced limp.

'She's hurt,' Harry said, his arm around Susan's waist to keep her from falling. 'We've got to get her to Madam Pomfrey.'

'I'm not that badly hurt,' said Susan, but she was ashen-faced and looked to be in a lot of pain.

'It was Wormtail,' said Harry. 'He was here. He attacked us and took off.'

'We saw him, too,' said Ron. 'He took off into the forest and Disapparated.'

'Let's get back to the castle,' Harry urged. 'Come on. Help me with Susan.'

'I don't need help!' Susan protested, but Ron put an arm around her waist and together he and Harry began to practically carry her in the direction of the castle. Hermione walked behind them, her wand still out.

They reached the square in time to meet Professor McGonagall and Bill.

'What are you four doing here?' McGonagall cried. Her hat had come off and her normally severely neat hair was coming out of its bun. 'I told you to get back to the castle.'

'Please, Professor,' Harry begged. 'Susan's hurt.'

'Where were you two?' she demanded, and Harry and Susan--despite the obvious pain on her face--both blushed. McGonagall's lips went very thin.

'Never mind,' she said. 'Get yourselves indoors right now and get Miss Bones to the hospital wing.'