The Book of Morgan Le Fey

Chapter Twenty-Three: Attacks

It was only the next morning, when Ron awoke, that he noticed that Harry had once again not come back to the dormitory last night. Ron himself had been far too wound up and exhausted and caught up in Hermione and what she'd said to even notice. But now, he stared at the bed next to his and found it neatly made, obviously not slept in, the curtains pulled back.

Ron groaned inwardly and pulled himself out of bed. Neville, Dean and Seamus had already dressed and left the dormitory for breakfast. Ron haphazardly made his bed and then pulled off his pyjamas and wrapped his bath towel round his waist, in preparation for a shower, when the door to the dormitory creaked open, and Harry walked in.

At once Ron noticed that something was...off. Harry looked exhausted. His hair and glasses were completely askew. His clothes were wrinkled. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, and he was pale to the point of pastiness. He'd looked like this plenty of times before. But there was something else.

There was a small, nearly imperceptible smile on his lips and his green eyes, while hazy with lack of sleep, nonetheless managed to twinkle all the same.

'Hey,' he said, throwing himself onto his bed.

'Hey,' said Ron, studying him for a moment. 'You...didn't come back again last night.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, trying to sound casual, and he pursed his lips once, then again.

A brief pause, and Ron spoke again. 'You look knackered.' He picked up his shampoo bottle and a bar of soap.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'I am. Feel like I could sleep for a week.' He pursed his lips a third time and Ron realized he was trying very hard not to grin.

Ron swallowed and suddenly everything was clear. Or at least, he thought it was. Something had happened between Harry and Susan last night, something--judging by the look on Harry's face--good. Just how good that something was, Ron couldn't tell, and he found himself torn between wanting to ask and not wanting to know.

'Susan get back all right?' he said, trying to sound nonchalant and not looking at his best mate.

Harry gave a little chuckle and then quickly covered it by clearing his throat. 'Fine.'

Fine, Ron thought. I'll bet. He realized he couldn't bring himself to ask, after all.

'I'm going to have a shower,' he said lamely, and started past Harry's bed for the door.

'We did it,' said Harry.

Ron dropped his soap and shampoo and turned to look at Harry. He was lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling with a positively...glowing expression on his face. There was no other word for it. He was grinning ear to ear and his pale face was flushed and he looked ridiculously, stupidly happy.

'Whoa,' Ron heard himself say. 'Uh, you mean--'

'Yeah,' said Harry, and he sat up and looked at Ron and grinned.

'Bloody hell,' said Ron, and for a moment he couldn't think of anything else to say. He just stared at Harry, who was grinning like a fool.

'Where?' Ron finally managed.

'Astronomy Tower,' said Harry, running a hand through his hopelessly untidy hair.

'How?' Ron heard himself say, and then mentally kicked himself for asking the stupidest question he'd ever asked. And he'd asked some very stupid ones in his life.

'How?' Harry repeated. 'Uh, you don't really want me to explain--'

'No,' said Ron quickly. 'I just meant, uh, how...how did...I mean...things lead up to--'

'Oh,' said Harry, and he smiled but looked down at his hands. 'I dunno. I mean, we were just walking and we started to go back to Hufflepuff but then she said she didn't want to go back just yet, and we went to the Astronomy Tower instead. And we were, you know, snogging and...she told me she wanted to.'

'Bloody hell,' said Ron. 'Uh, wow.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, and he grinned again.

'How was it?' Ron asked.

'How do you think?' said Harry.

'I wouldn't know,' said Ron, a bit glumly.

'Oh,' said Harry. 'Right.' He cleared his throat. 'It was...amazing.'

'Yeah?' said Ron, but of course it would be. He'd grown up in a house full of older brothers, all of whom had done the deed (despite what Ginny had said Ron was certain Fred and George had) and all of them, even Percy--stuffed shirt, uptight, priggish Percy--had waxed rhapsodic about the joys of sex.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'I mean, I always thought it would be but...but in real life it's...it's even better. Well, the first time was really awkward--'

'You did it more than once?' said Ron, trying not to sound jealous and impressed, which he was.

Harry blushed. 'Um, yeah. Well, see, uh, the first time...it hurt. For her. And...and I didn't want to just leave it at that, so...'

'I get it,' said Ron. He bent to pick up his soap and shampoo and tried not let jealousy overwhelm him.

It was petty, being jealous about that. But it was like everything else, wasn't it? Ron thought. Harry's always beating me out in everything. Quidditch, money, girls, popularity and now sex.

And then Ron hated himself for feeling like that. Harry and Susan had been going out for a long time, far longer than Ron and Hermione. Harry's life was a mess. Last night was a nightmare for all of them. Harry was planning on invading the mind of a psychotic Dark Wizard who wanted to murder him. Didn't he deserve some happiness? Didn't he deserve to look this stupidly happy?

Yes, he did, Ron thought. And it wasn't like Ron was deprived of the affections of a girl. He had the best girlfriend in the world, didn't he? And it wasn't as if Hermione had said they'd never have sex. Just not right now. Ron had never been the most patient sort but if he thought about it, he was a damn sight luckier than most blokes. He shouldn't begrudge Harry anything when he himself had it pretty damn good.

'Ron, are you okay?' said Harry, and Ron blinked and came back to himself.

'Yeah,' he said. 'Fine. Listen, mate...congratulations.'

'Thanks,' said Harry, a bit awkwardly. 'Listen, Ron...'

'I'm happy for you,' said Ron quickly. 'I mean it.' And he did.

'Thanks,' Harry said again. 'Though, to be honest...I dunno how I'm supposed to concentrate on anything now. Between getting no sleep and...you know.'

'Yeah, Bill mentioned once that shagging scrambles the brain,' said Ron, grinning. 'But you'd better focus. We've got Double Potions today, and Herbology and Quidditch practice tonight.'

'Right,' said Harry. 'Bugger. How'm I supposed to make it through today? I'm exhausted.'

'No offense, Harry, but I don't feel the least bit sorry for you right now,' said Ron.

And they both laughed.

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

The next two weeks passed quickly, and spring settled firmly onto the Hogwarts grounds. The fine weather enticed students out of doors, and Ron, Harry, Hermione and Susan found themselves studying beneath the tree by the lake--sometimes accompanied by Ginny--more often than not.

Their homework increased with the approaching summer term and exams. Snape had returned after his brief absence looking chalkier and more drawn than ever. His temper was unusually short, but for once, Ron and Harry managed to stay out of trouble in Potions lessons. For the first time in six years of class Ron and Harry both managed to complete their assignment--brewing a Confusing Concoction--perfectly, without having to stop and start over. The potion was exactly the right color and texture and when Snape tested it he grumpily reported that it was 'acceptable' and that, 'for once' the 'two biggest dolts in his class, next to Longbottom, of course,' would not be required to do extra homework.

With plenty of assistance from Hermione, Ron had finally mastered most of the sixth year Conjuring Spells for Transfiguration. They were working with hellebore plants in Herbology, which were highly poisonous; Ron found himself getting help from Neville on the finer points of handling and caring for the plants.

Then there were Care of Magical Creatures lessons. For a week Hagrid had them work with Diricawls, birds who could vanish at will.

'These are bloody tame by Hagrid's standards,' Ron remarked drily, as his Diricawl vanished in a cloud of feathers. 'Downright boring, even.'

The following week, however, things were back to normal in Care of Magical Creatures. Ron's heart sank as he, Harry and Hermione gathered round the outside of Hagrid's hut and Hagrid gave them all a gleeful smile.

'Uh, oh,' said Harry. 'When he smiles like that, it can't be good.'

Behind Hagrid was a crudely constructed wooden hut.

'Hello, class,' Hagrid boomed. 'Today I've got a special treat for yeh. We're workin' with Ashwinders. Professor Snape needs Ashwinder eggs for his N.E.W.T. lessons, and it's up to us to get 'em for him.'

'Oh, dear,' said Hermione.

'What are Ashwinders?' whispered Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Ron, do you ever read your textbooks?'

'Who can tell me what an Ashwinder is?' said Hagrid, and Hermione's hand shot up. Hagrid grinned and nodded at her.

'Ashwinders are serpents,' said Hermione. 'They appear out of magical fires and will seek out dark corners in old buildings to lay eggs. The eggs are very useful in certain potions but they are fiery-hot, and if they don't get frozen quickly enough, they burst into flame and burn down buildings.'

'Wonderful,' Ron muttered.

'Grea' job, Hermione,' said Hagrid, beaming. 'Ten points to Gryffindor. So, what we have to do is conjure up some Ashwinder fires. Then we'll put the Ashwinders in this big hut here and wait for 'em to lay their eggs. Takes 'em a couple of weeks, see? And once they've done that we'll collect the eggs and freeze 'em for Professor Snape.'

'Excuse me,' said a drawling, irritable voice. 'Just how are we supposed to handle Ashwinder eggs? Won't we burn our hands?'

Ron rolled his eyes, and Hagrid grunted in irritation.

'Are ye a wizard, Malfoy, or ain' ye? You don't HANDLE Ashwinder eggs, you levitate 'em with yer wand,' said Hagrid.

'Oh, naturally,' Malfoy sneered.

Hagrid ignored him and said, 'Who here can conjure up an Ashwinder fire?'

Nobody was surprised when Hermione volunteered, and produced a perfect fire out of which, after burning steadily for a few minutes, slithered a skinny grey serpent with glowing red eyes.

'Another ten points for Gryffindor,' said Hagrid, winking at Hermione. For the next hour the students worked on conjuring Ashwinder fires. Ron had never been good at conjuring any fires at all, and in the end he, Harry and Malfoy and his cronies were all given extra homework.

'Bloody hell,' said Ron irritably at the end of the lesson. 'Deadly plants in Herbology and now this.'

'Ron, don't swear,' said Hermione. 'At least this time Hagrid's having us work with useful dangerous creatures.'

'Right,' said Harry. 'Useful. Maybe we could leave an unfrozen egg in Snape's office and let it burn down. That would be useful.'

'Harry,' said Hermione warningly, but Ron cut her off with a look. There was no point arguing with Harry's hatred of Snape.

Quidditch practices became more intense as the season wound down. The final match was coming up, and the Slytherins and the Gryffindors were constantly battling for time on the pitch.

On top of all this was trying to stay on top of Voldemort's plans. Harry had been true to his word about using Legilimency, and Ron found himself sitting at the foot of Harry's bed, watching his best mate go into a weird, trance-like state in the late hours of the night as he tried to penetrate the reaches of Voldemort's mind. So far, Harry wasn't having any luck, and he was getting more and more frustrated. The most he could report, he said, were 'twinges' in his scar.

Ron, for his part, hated watching the whole thing altogether. He was nervous that something would go wrong, that Harry would fall into some sort of trap set by Voldemort, or that Voldemort would somehow manage to possess Harry's mind, the way he had done Ginny's, and Ron wouldn't be able to stop it.

Ginny, meanwhile, had fallen into her role as their unofficial spy with much enthusiasm. Hermione insisted that Dumbledore needed to be told of Ginny's involvement, and in the end, they all agreed. Ginny, therefore, had approached McGonagall and the Headmaster with what she knew. Dumbledore agreed to allow Ginny to act as an information gatherer, with promises that Ginny would tell them all she learned.

In the end she had little to report. Luna was spending more time with Eddie, which Ron immediately found suspicious. But Ginny insisted that Luna hadn't told anyone but her about the book, and considering that nothing untoward had happened, everyone was forced to accept Ginny's word.

Ginny also reported that Luna was becoming more and more frightened of the book by the day and was spending every spare moment she had searching for a way to get rid of it. Dumbledore sighed and said that he and McGonagall, too, had been searching for a way, but had had no luck at all. They all agreed that it was still too soon to tell Luna anything. If they were lucky, she would find a way to destroy the book herself. In the meantime, they maintained their outward show of normalcy.

For two solid weeks, therefore, Ron and his friends found themselves in a holding pattern where Voldemort's plans were concerned. There was, additionally, nothing new reported in The Daily Prophet, which they all read every morning. It was frustrating, but they were kept so busy with schoolwork that they had little time to dwell on things.

And then there was Hermione. She and Ron didn't have much time to spend together alone, but what time they did have, they made the most of. Ron was delighted that she let things go a bit further than they had before, but he couldn't help feel a twinge of jealousy over Harry and Susan all the same. Harry was in a very good mood for the most part and Ron knew it was because they'd managed to sneak off together. Harry insisted they didn't shag all the time, but Ron wondered, because Harry always seemed to have that tired-but-absurdly-pleased look on his face of late.

All in all, things were about as normal as they could be, considering.

Until one morning in mid-May.

Things started out usual enough. Ron awoke and he and Harry went down to breakfast. For once, Harry had foregone his nightly rendezvous with Susan in favor of getting a good night's sleep ('It's fun as all hell but it's a lot harder to do when you're bloody exhausted,' said Harry, to which Ron said, 'Funny, but once again I really don't feel sorry for you.').

They met Hermione and Ginny at the Gryffindor table, and Susan joined them.

The owls flew in with the morning post, and Hermione received the latest issue of The Daily Prophet, which they all pored over, finding nothing untoward. It was just another normal morning.

But then, Harry looked up at the staff table and started.

'What?' said Ron and Hermione together.

'Where's Dumbledore?' said Harry, his voice tight.

They looked up, and indeed, the Headmaster was nowhere to be seen. Nor was--

'McGonagall's not there, either,' said Ginny, and her forehead creased with worry. 'Or Snape. Or...Flitwick. Good lord. Half the staff aren't here, are they?'

'Maybe they're in a meeting,' Hermione suggested. 'They've missed breakfast before.'

It was true, but something about their absence today was different. Ron couldn't quite place just what was different.

He was mulling this over when McGonagall, in fact, entered the Great Hall. She strode resolutely over to the Gryffindor table. Her face was pale and pinched and her lips were pursed in a tight line. She came right up to the table.

'Miss Granger,' she said, in a tight voice, 'I need to speak with you right away.'

Something in McGonagall's tone made Ron's throat close. Hermione blanched.

'Wh-what is it?' she said, her voice barely a whisper.

'I'd rather not go into it here,' McGonagall said. 'Please, Miss Granger, come with me.'

Hermione swallowed hard, and Ron felt his stomach clench. Something was very, very wrong. She started to get up, and Ron followed suit.

'Mr. Weasley, I don't think--'

'If this is about Hermione, I want to know,' said Ron firmly. He took Hermione's hand in his.

'So do we,' said Harry, and he, Susan and Ginny all got up.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed.

'Please, Professor,' said Hermione, and her voice was shaking. 'I--I want them with me.' She clutched Ron's hand tightly.

'Very well,' said McGonagall. 'You'd have told them everything anyway. Let's go to my office.'

The five of them followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall and to her office; the whole way there, nobody said a word. Hermione was pale and Ron felt her trembling as he clutched her hand.

They reached McGonagall's office and filed in, and McGonagall shut the door behind them. They gathered round her desk and she crossed behind it and stood there for a moment, looking sternly down at them.

Then her eyes fell on Hermione, and her face softened just a bit.

'Miss Granger, I regret to inform you that...your house was attacked last night,' said McGonagall, her voice strained. 'By Death Eaters.'

Hermione gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Ron felt his stomach clench as he put his arm round Hermione, who swayed. Harry, Susan and Ginny were all silent, their eyes wide with horror.

'I--I need to sit,' said Hermione weakly, and McGonagall quickly conjured a chair and Hermione sank into it. Ron knelt down next to her, still clutching her hand. He felt hopelessly inadequate. She was trembling and her skin was alabaster-pale.

'What happened?' Harry croaked. He looked stricken, and Ron knew why.

'It was much like the attacks on the pure-blood houses,' said McGonagall. 'We can only assume that the Death Eaters were looking for the book. The house was torn apart, as were the lawns.'

'Oh,' said Hermione, her voice sounding strangled. 'My...my mum and dad...'

McGonagall closed her eyes. 'They were in the house.'

'Oh, my god,' Hermione croaked, and she began to shake violently. Ron rose up on his knees and pulled her to him, holding her hard. She sank against him and clung to him.

'They're alive, Miss Granger,' said McGonagall. 'But they were injured. Badly. The Death Eaters...tortured them.'

'No...no...no...' Hermione moaned.

'They're in St. Mungo's,' said McGonagall quickly. 'They're going to recover, Hermione. I promise. The Death Eaters let them go quickly enough when they realized the book was not in their possession.'

'There was nothing in the Prophet about this,' Ginny whispered.

'Once again, it was agreed that the attack was best kept under wraps,' said McGonagall.

'Oh yeah?' said Ron, angrily. 'And who decided that, huh? The Ministry? Didn't want to embarrass themselves that they can't catch the Death Eaters who are going round attacking everyone?'

'Ron, don't,' said Hermione.

'No, Hermione,' said Ron furiously. 'Bloody hell. They're attacking Muggles now! Your parents!'

'The Order can't--' McGonagall began.

'Bugger the Order!' Ron yelled.

'Ron!' Hermione gasped.

'Mr. Weasley!' snapped McGonagall, scandalized.

'No, you listen,' said Ron, and he stood up and clutched Hermione's shoulder. 'This is getting ridiculous. It was bad enough when the Ministry was covering up Vol-Voldemort's stuff last year, but now the Order is hushing things up?'

'You know perfectly well why, Weasley,' said McGonagall, her eyes flashing dangerously.

'So what?' said Ron. 'Maybe it's time for the bloody Order to--'

'Ron, shut up!' Hermione yelled, and she jerked away from him and stood, walking over to the corner of McGonagall's office.

'Wha--?' Ron began, entirely flummoxed by Hermione's reaction.

'Ron,' said Harry slowly, and Ron looked at him. Harry's eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked stricken. Guilt-stricken.

'I didn't see it,' said Harry slowly. 'I...I didn't...why didn't I see it? My stupid scar always hurts when he's about to--'

'This isn't your fault, Harry,' said Hermione.

'It's nobody's fault,' said McGonagall firmly. 'Nobody but the Death Eaters and...and You-Know-Who.'

Nobody said anything for a long moment, but then Ginny spoke up, very quietly.

'Why...why would they go after the book at Hermione's house?' said Ginny. 'She's Muggle-born--'

'Miss Granger's parents are not the extent of her ancestry,' said McGonagall evenly. 'Morgan has Muggles and Squibs in her bloodline, after all, and I think it's safe to say that some of the Death Eaters are aware of Miss Granger's magical talents.'

Ron swallowed and nodded. Of course. Hermione was the cleverest witch he'd ever known, and quite possibly the cleverest witch Hogwarts had seen since, well, McGonagall. Hermione would be powerful enough to use the book, if it belonged to her. Ron stared at Hermione, who was looking down at her shoes, but not crying. He wanted to go to her, but something held him back. She was angry at him for some reason.

'Professor,' said Harry. 'Where's Dumbledore?'

'He is at Headquarters,' said McGonagall. 'There's an emergency meeting. He's put me in charge here. I can't say how long he'll be away.'

'But...but Professor,' said Ron nervously. 'If he's not here, don't you think Voldemort--'

'We've increased security on the school, Mr. Weasley,' said McGonagall evenly. 'More Aurors are coming today, and we've added additional wards. It's the best we can do under the circumstances, but for now the Order doesn't believe You-Know-Who will attempt an attack on the school.'

'Professor,' said Hermione, and her voice was small and frightened and vulnerable. 'What...what's going to happen to my parents?'

'They'll be treated,' said McGonagall gently. 'And moved to a safe location. A few Order members have gone ahead and are taking care of the house; it's being cleaned and repaired. They've taken all the necessary steps to ensure that other Muggles don't see the damage and that the press doesn't get wind of it.'

'Can I see them?' Hermione pleaded.

'I'm afraid not, dear,' said McGonagall, and her voice was as kind as Ron had ever heard it. 'They're unconscious right now; they're being kept that way while the healers work on them. And they're going to be given Memory Charms once they've been moved and it's all over. They'll know they've been moved and they'll be told some of the reasons why, but they won't remember that they were attacked. It's for their own safety. But if you wish to write them, I'll be happy to send them a message.'

'Th-thank you,' said Hermione. 'I will.' Her eyes flickered over to Ron for a moment, then away.

'I know this is difficult,' said McGonagall, and for the first time that morning, her voice cracked, just a bit. 'But we have to stay here, and stay calm. Miss Granger, if you're not up for lessons today, I'm happy to make your excuses to the other professors.'

'No,' said Hermione at once. 'I...I want to stay busy.'

McGonagall regarded her for a moment, then nodded. 'So be it. The rest of you should go to lessons as planned. And say nothing about this. Understood?'

'Yes, Professor,' they all mumbled. Hermione bit her lip and started out of the office. Harry, Susan and Ginny followed her, with Ron bringing up the rear. Once outside the office, Ron caught up to Hermione and grabbed her hand.

'Hermione--' he began.

'Don't, Ron,' she said, pulling her hand away and not looking at him. 'Just...don't. We...we have to go to class.'

She walked away without looking at him, and Ron felt a sharp pain in his chest. He didn't know why she was angry with him. Why wouldn't she let him at least hug her, or something? He knew she was hurting and frightened, and all he wanted to do was comfort her. Why wouldn't she let him?

The day that followed was among the five worst of Ron's life. It was nearly as bad as that dreadful night last Christmas when his father had been attacked by the snake. Hermione was cool and distant toward him; she didn't look at him for the whole day and in spite of himself, Ron felt anger begin to boil in him. It wasn't fair for her to be upset with him. Hadn't she given him the third degree about shutting her out that night when he'd learned that his house had been attacked by Death Eaters? Now she was doing the same to him. She was being...a hypocrite.

Ron held his tongue, however, because he didn't think he had the energy to row with her. Not right then, in any case. Maybe later, after Quidditch practice.

Harry, Susan and Ginny had been mostly silent for the day, as well. They said nothing to each other at meals, but Ron noticed that Harry's guilty expression had faded, to be replaced by one of grim determination. Determination to do what, Ron couldn't say, but it made him uneasy. Harry'd had the same look last year when he decided to go after Sirius at the Department of Mysteries. Ron could only hope Harry wasn't thinking of doing something stupid.

Ron was grateful when Quidditch practice finally came around. At first he wasn't sure he could possibly keep his mind on it, what with worrying about--and being angry with--Hermione, but after a few minutes of hard practice, Ron found himself focusing on the game completely. He understood completely why Harry found Quidditch to be therapeutic. For a good three hours Ron thought of nothing but blocking goals; it was the best practice of his life.

At ten o'clock the team was tired and sweaty, and Ron decided that he'd just have to confront Hermione tomorrow. He was too exhausted to bother with it now. He opted for a shower in the changing rooms before heading back up to the castle.

The rest of the team headed to the castle right after practice, leaving Ron alone. He stood under the shower for what felt like a long time, letting the water sluice over him, and his mind wandered back to Hermione, to Voldemort, to everything that was happening. And things were happening. Ron could feel it in his bones. Something was coming. It was only a matter of time. He wondered how, and if, he could survive it. If Harry would survive it. If Hermione...

He wondered if he could protect his friends. Ron shook his head and began to scrub his skin, a bit harder than usual, in the hopes of somehow scrubbing his brain of painful thoughts in the process. He looked at his forearms, and noticed that the scars there were almost completely faded. He hadn't had a vision in months. Somehow this wasn't a comfort to him. But scrubbing himself until his skin was pink, that was comforting. He felt a little better when he finally turned off the shower, dried off, and pulled on his jeans and a jumper.

He picked up his Quidditch gear and started out of the Gryffindor tent when the flap was pulled aside and someone came in. It was Hermione.

'Hi,' she said, and her voice was weak and tired sounding.

'Hi,' he said back, and he felt himself putting his gear down. He didn't move, however. He just watched her and waited for her to speak. He wanted her to speak before he did. She did.

'I...I wrote to my mum and dad,' she said. 'I told them I was okay.'

'They'll be glad to hear that,' said Ron. 'When...when they wake up.'

She nodded, and didn't say anything for a moment. She seemed to be steeling herself.

'Ron,' she said, and her voice shook. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry I...I yelled at you before.' She paused, and her lip began to tremble, and her breathing became strained. She was struggling mightily not to cry. Ron felt his anger at her crumble.

'I'm just...' she said, and she blinked and a single tear escaped to stream down her cheek. 'I'm just really scared.' She bit her lip, and that was it.

Ron crossed to her and pulled her into a fierce hug, and she broke down.

'Shh,' he whispered, as he stroked her hair and tried to calm the trembling of her body as she cried. 'It's okay. I'm here. I'm here.'

They stayed that way for a long time.

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

Two hours later, Ron entered the dormitory to find Seamus, Dean and Neville fast asleep. But not Harry. He was sitting up, in his pyjamas, on top of the covers of his bed.

'Hey,' he said softly, as Ron shut the dormitory door quietly behind him. 'Hermione okay?'

'As well as she can be,' said Ron, also talking quietly. He walked slowly over to Harry's bed and sank down onto the end of it. 'Shit. Harry, they...they attacked her parents.'

'I know,' said Harry, his jaw clenching.

'They're Muggles,' said Ron miserably. 'What--what can they do against Death Eaters?'

'Buy a gun,' said Harry darkly. 'Other than that, not much.'

'Things are happening,' said Ron. 'It's...it's getting bad. And I feel like we're stuck here and we can't bloody DO anything.'

Harry nodded, and for a moment they were silent. Then Harry spoke.

'I should have seen it. I should have SEEN that attack coming, and I didn't.'

'It's not your fault, mate,' said Ron.

'It IS my fault,' Harry hissed. 'I'm the only one who has this bloody...mind meld thing with Voldemort, aren't I? I've seen all sorts of his stuff in the past, I should have seen this.'

'Dammit, Harry,' said Ron furiously, struggling to keep from yelling. 'Would you stop blaming yourself? Hermione feels bad enough as it is, she doesn't need you feeling guilty.'

'What are you saying?' said Harry angrily, remembering, at least, to whisper.

'I'm saying,' said Ron, 'that it isn't all about you. This...this war isn't all about you. They would have gone after Hermione's parents one way or another. Just like they went after my parents. You didn't see that coming, did you? But it happened. You can't do this by yourself, you can't make it all about you.'

'That's bullshit,' Harry snapped. 'I'm not--'

'Yes, you are,' said Ron. 'You've been doing it since Cedric died. I know you didn't ask for...for all the stuff that's on you but you can't keep thinking that everything that goes wrong is your fault. Because it's not. Voldemort is a sick bastard and he's doing this stuff because...because he wants to scare everyone and he wants to freak you out.'

'Oh, really?' said Harry. 'I'd say it's working, then.'

'Then you're...you're giving him what he wants,' said Ron. 'He wants you to crack, Harry. That's why he's doing all this stuff. He wants you to push everyone away so that...so that you'll face him alone and he can finally kill you. And if you do that, if you take it all on yourself and shove us to the side he WILL kill you, and then we're all screwed.'

Harry said nothing, only stared at Ron. Ron felt himself redden; he'd not meant to say all those things to Harry, but after spending two hours with Hermione, comforting her and holding her and trying not to feel like the whole bloody world was cracking at the seams, Ron himself had snapped.

'Since when did you get so smart about...about people?' said Harry. 'Although calling Voldemort a person is a stretch.'

'Look who I have for a girlfriend,' said Ron, shrugging.

'Right,' said Harry. Another silence. Ron was exhausted and he wanted to go to bed, but he felt like there was something still left, something unresolved. Harry's body was tense, crackling with energy, and when Ron looked at his face, he saw that grim determination again.

'What?' said Ron, but he had a feeling he knew what was coming.

'I want to try again,' said Harry.

Ron sighed. 'Harry, we're both bloody exhausted--'

'Ron, I'm asking you to help me,' he said, looking at his hands, and he went red. 'I'm asking you to...to stay up for one hour and help me try again. I'm not going to give up on this, okay? Things are coming to a head and...and if there's anything I can do to stop it, I have to do it. But...you're right. I can't do it alone. I'm asking you to help me.'

Ron sighed again. 'Yeah,' he said wearily. 'Of course I'll help you.'

Harry looked up at him. His eyes were stricken.

'Are you sure Hermione's okay?' he asked.

'Yeah,' said Ron firmly. 'Yeah. She's tough. You know that.'

'Yeah, I know that,' said Harry, smiling slightly. 'Look, I just need to stay awake for another hour. Voldemort has to sleep sometime, right? I'll stay up another hour and then...do my thing.'

Ron sighed. 'I'll get my chess set.'

The two of them played chess for just over an hour; after the fourth game Ron could hardly keep his eyes open, but he still won easily.

'One of these days,' said Harry sleepily, 'I'm going to beat you.'

'Don't hold your breath, mate,' said Ron, yawning.

'Go to bed,' said Harry. 'I think I'll just try to, you know.'

'I'm not going to sleep,' said Ron firmly, stifling another yawn. 'I'm supposed to be awake for this, remember?'

'Ron, you're half-asleep as it is,' said Harry. 'I'll be fine, okay. Just go to bed.'

'No,' said Ron stubbornly.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. 'Stubborn git. Fine. Just...get off my bed, then. I can't do this if you're right there.'

'All right,' Ron grumped, and he moved to his own bed and sat down, leaning back against the pillows. 'Just...just don't do anything stupid,' he added.

'I won't,' said Harry. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. 'Ron, don't watch me.'

'What?' said Ron. 'I'm supposed to watch you, remember?'

'Maybe that's why I haven't been able to get anywhere,' said Harry impatiently. 'Because I'm all...self-conscious about you watching me.'

'If I can't watch you then how'm I s'posed to make sure you don't go barking or get possessed or something?'

'Bloody hell,' Harry grunted. 'Look, just...just don't watch for a few minutes, all right? Let me at least...establish a connection here before you start gawking at me.'

'Fine,' said Ron, rolling his eyes. 'Stubborn git.'

Harry threw a pillow at Ron and it hit him weakly on the head; Ron threw it back.

'Ron, I'm trying to concentrate,' said Harry.

'Yeah, yeah,' said Ron.

'Don't watch,' said Harry.

'I'm not,' Ron hissed. 'Bloody hell, Harry.'

'Shut it,' said Harry. Ron opened his mouth to retort, but decided against it. At this rate they could go on all night sniping at one another, or they could both shut up and let Harry get to work. Ron opted for the latter.

He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling and waited for Harry to do whatever it was he did to make a mental connection with the most evil Dark Wizard in centuries. The ceiling above Ron's bed was faintly blue from the moonlight that streamed in through the window. It was a soft, comforting sort of silver-blue glow that caused Ron to feel very relaxed. He felt his eyelids growing heavy. He was so tired...

His eyes snapped open in time to see Hermione. She looked so radiant and beautiful and her hair was blowing in the warm spring breeze. Ron wasn't sure how he ended up outside, or how it was daylight, but he was there, and Hermione was smiling up at him, holding his hand. She leaned up to kiss him, and he kissed her back, and he put his arms round her and felt the press of her body against his and his hands moved across her back and into her hair. It was perfect.

She broke the kiss and smiled, then leaned up and whispered something in his ear. He wasn't sure what she said, but she was smiling and then she took his hand and starting walking backwards, beckoning him to follow her. He did. He couldn't imagine where they were going, but the look on her face was so intoxicating that he began to realize that maybe she had decided she didn't want to wait after all. His heart raced and his blood pounded in his ears. She smiled up at him and then turned away from him, still tugging on his hand. He tried to keep up with her but his feet felt so heavy.

She turned back to him, and he stopped. Hermione wasn't Hermione anymore. She was Eddie. Eddie was clutching his hand and pulling on him. Eddie's flesh was burning him, and Ron yanked his hand away. The Head Boy's eyes flashed blue-grey, then dark, almost black. He smiled, and it was a smile that made Ron's blood run cold.

Eddie was saying something and Ron began to back away, but then Eddie changed back into Hermione, and she was beckoning him again, and Ron felt his blood get hot again, and she took his hand and changed again. Not back to Eddie.

She was a black-haired witch with hooded eyes and pale skin and a sinister smile on her face. She was beautiful, but her face was ravaged by time. She pulled on Ron and he felt himself propelled forward, toward this witch he didn't know, but he was afraid of. She began to laugh, a sharp, shrieking sort of laugh, and she was pulling on his hand and dragging him somewhere that he didn't want to go, and laughing the whole time, and he tried to get away but he couldn't...

'No!' Ron sat up in bed, blinking. For a moment he wondered whether he had just yelled out loud. But the voice yelling in the room wasn't his. Seamus, Dean and Neville all grumbled and sat up slowly. Ron looked over at Harry, who was thrashing horribly in his bed.

'Harry!' Ron yelled, jumping off his own bed and rushing to Harry's. He'd fallen asleep. Bloody hell, he'd gone and fallen asleep when he was supposed to be looking out for Harry.

'Wake up, mate!' Ron yelled desperately.

'Dementors!' Harry moaned. 'Get out! Get everyone out! Expecto Patronum! Percy...Percy, get away!'

Ron felt his stomach sink like a stone. 'Harry, wake up!' Ron shook Harry's shoulders. Harry's eyes blinked open.

'Ron!' he yelped. He was trembling violently and covered with sweat. 'I'm...I'm gonna be sick...' he croaked. Ron leapt out of the way as Harry vomited over the side of his bed. By now, Seamus, Dean and Neville were fully awake, lanterns lit, as they stared in horror at Harry.

'Neville, get McGonagall!' Ron ordered.

'Right,' Neville said in a squeaky voice, and he stumbled out of the dormitory.

'What can we do?' asked Dean.

'Nothing,' said Ron, and he gripped Harry's shoulders to try and stop him from shaking. 'It's another one of his visions. It...it just has to run its course.'

'Ron,' said Harry weakly. 'An attack...at the Ministry...Percy...'

'What about Percy?' Ron asked, feeling his stomach lurch again. 'What...what happened to him?'

'Percy...hurt,' Harry gasped, trying to bring his breathing under control. 'I saw it. Dementors...chasing him. He got away...but...he's hurt...other people are hurt...happened...happened just now...Dumbledore...' Harry's eyelids were fluttering and he seemed to be trying to say something else, but he passed out instead.

At that very moment Professor McGonagall burst in with Neville, followed by Ginny and Hermione, both in nightgowns and robes.

'What happened?' McGonagall barked, still fumbling with the belt of her robe.

'He had a vision,' said Ron. 'There...there was an attack. At the Ministry.'