The Final Reckoning

Chapter Fifteen: The Last Journey to Hogwarts

'Ron,' said Harry, amazed, as he picked up the Head Boy badge. 'That's...wow. Head Boy.'

'Ron!' Hermione and Mrs. Weasley both squeaked, and the both threw their arms around his neck.

But Ron was standing stock still, his face now so chalk-white it made his freckles look almost glaring.

'Er, Ron?' Ginny asked.

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley let go of Ron and looked at him with concern.

'Ronnie, dear?' Mrs. Weasley said tentatively.

'Ron, are you okay?' Hermione asked.

'Need...to...sit,' Ron said, and he looked suddenly like he would pass out. His knees started to buckle; Harry put down the badge and yanked up a chair just in time as Ron sank into it.

'Ron,' said Harry, pulling his own chair closer. 'Are you okay, mate?'

'It's a mistake,' said Ron, his voice a horrified whisper.

'What's a mistake?' said Mrs. Weasley, kneeling down next to her youngest son.

'I can't...I can't be...Head Boy!' said Ron, and suddenly he looked utterly appalled.

'What do you mean, you can't be?' said Mrs. Weasley.

'Ron, what's the matter?' said Hermione. 'This is good news, remember?'

'No, it's not,' said Ron, and now he was frantic. He stood up and began to pace. 'This is all wrong. I'm not supposed to be...oh, bloody hell...'

'Language, Ron,' said Mrs. Weasley, as she stood up and put her hands on her hips. 'I really don't understand what your problem is. This is a great honor--'

'No, it's not!' Ron cried. 'I can't be...I can't do this! I'm supposed to...to represent the school or something...Head Boy...Dumbledore's mad! What's he on about? I can't deal with...it's a mistake...I...I've got to get out of here...'

And Ron suddenly turned on his heel and ran from the kitchen, leaving Hermione, Ginny, Harry and Mrs. Weasley all shouting after him.

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

Ron paced about the attic, then stopped, then started pacing again. There was something about pacing, he decided. The act of walking back and forth while his mind was in a jumble seemed to be the only way to keep a grip on himself.

But the more he paced, the more his head spun with everything that had happened in the past day, the past week, the past month, the past year. It was too much. All of it. Ron wasn't sure he could take much more. He wanted to get on his broom and fly away to...wherever. Somewhere where there were no dark wizards chasing after his best friend and evil prat wizard classmates chasing after his sister, a place where he could finally be alone, truly alone, with his girlfriend instead of having to sneak a snog here and there and get no real relief from his frustrations because his mother was always around.

'Ron.'

Hermione's voice snapped him out of his reverie, like a rubber band on the back of his neck.

'Hi,' he said, in a choked voice.

'Ron, what's going on?' she asked, walking toward him, looking both worried and exasperated. 'Why did you run off like that?'

'Wanted to be alone,' Ron mumbled.

'Oh,' said Hermione, and she bit her lip and started to walk out of the attic. 'Okay, I'll just go...'

'Wait,' Ron said at once. He didn't want her to go. 'Stay here. Please.'

She did, and she came to him and took his large hands in her small ones. He never got over it, how small her hands were, and yet how strong and capable.

'Talk to me,' she said. 'Why aren't you happy about...being Head Boy? Isn't it just what you wanted? You told me, remember? You looked in the Mirror of Erised and you saw yourself as Head Boy.'

Ron sighed. 'Yeah, well, that was a long time ago,' he said. An eternity, more like. Was he really seventeen now, going into his last year of school? Where did the time go? Why was he such an emotional basket case these days? Why couldn't he get himself a bloody time turner and go back to when he was eleven and life was still fun?

'Ron, please tell me,' Hermione urged.

'It's too much, 'Mione,' he said, groaning. 'I...I'm not you. I can't do a hundred things at once and be brilliant at everything. I'm supposed to be a Seer and help Harry come up with a way to defeat Voldemort and study for N.E.W.T.s and apply for jobs and look out for you and my sister and play Quidditch and be Head Boy? Represent the bloody school? Be the...go-to person for all the prefects? I'm supposed to have answers to all sorts of questions about stuff and be calm and cool and collected in a crisis. Well, there's a laugh. I can't even look at Malfoy without wanting to break his neck! I can't do it, 'Mione. I've barely had enough sleep since...since that night Dumbledore told me about the Seer thing and now this?'

'Ron,' Hermione said softly, and she put a cool hand on his cheek, 'you always do this.'

'Do what?' Ron said glumly.

'Underestimate yourself,' she said. 'Act like you're not good enough, or strong enough.'

'Maybe it's because it's true--'

'Stop it,' said Hermione angrily. 'Stop that right now! I won't have it.'

'Oh, you won't?' said Ron, smirking.

'No, I won't,' said Hermione crossly, putting her hands on her hips. 'You lectured me already, now it's my turn to lecture you.'

'Hermione, you always lecture me,' Ron pointed out.

'Yes, well, this time it's really, really important!' said Hermione. 'You underestimate yourself because you're afraid, not just of not measuring up but of having expectations put on you at all. That's why you don't work harder in school, when you know you could be getting O's in every class if you just applied yourself. That's why you freaked out about Quidditch in fifth year. You say you want to make your mark but when the opportunity presents itself to do just that, you run.'

'Hermione, if you're trying to make me feel better, it's not working,' Ron said, groaning.

'I'm trying to make you see reality, Ron,' said Hermione bossily. 'If you want to make your mark in this world you have to accept the fact that people are going to start expecting things from you. Nobody expects anything from someone who's mediocre.'

'Are you saying I'm mediocre?' said Ron hotly, feeling hurt.

'No!' said Hermione, throwing up her hands. 'That's what I'm trying to tell you, Ron! You're anything but mediocre! You're smart and brave and talented and exceptional. Dumbledore wouldn't have chosen you otherwise if he didn't think so. And I wouldn't love you if I didn't think so.'

Ron blushed and looked down at her. 'Really?'

'Yes, really,' said Hermione primly. 'Of course, you drive me completely mad and there are times I'd just as soon hit you over the head as kiss you--'

'Hey!'

'But I love you,' said Hermione, and her voice softened and she took his hands again. And she leaned up and kissed him softly.

He closed his eyes and savored the all too brief contact of her lips.

'I just don't want to let anyone down,' he heard himself say, as he opened his eyes.

'You won't,' said Hermione, and she moved into his arms and rested her head against his chest. 'I'm Head Girl, remember? You really think I would let you slack off?'

Ron laughed and rested his cheek on the top of her head, breathing in her lilac shampoo.

'I guess...I guess I'd better get used to the whole Head Boy thing, then,' he said. 'All the responsibility.'

'You're very responsible when you want to be,' said Hermione warmly. 'Oh, I forgot. There was a fourth piece of parchment in your envelope. I have one, too. It's just notes on the new school rules and such.'

'Oh, lovely,' said Ron. 'Sounds exciting. Fred and George are never going to let me live this down, you know.'

Hermione pulled back and looked up at him. 'Oh, let them talk,' she said, smiling. 'They're just jealous neither one of them got to be Head Boy.'

'Really?' said Ron dubiously.

'Of course,' said Hermione, her eyes very serious. 'There are a lot of privileges that come with being Head Boy, you know.'

'Like what?' Ron asked. 'And don't say walking about the school anytime I want or going down to the kitchens; I already do that.'

'No,' said Hermione, and she blushed slightly as she put her arms round his neck. 'But...you know, Ron...the Head Boy and Girl both get their own private rooms.'

Ron suddenly remembered Percy and Bill telling him that. 'You're right,' he said. 'Cool.'

Hermione nodded. 'So...we can be properly alone.' She smiled up at him with a mixture of shyness and boldness.

Ron grinned. 'Does being properly alone involve getting naked?'

'It might,' said Hermione, 'if you're good.'

'I can be very good,' Ron said in a low voice, and she giggled softly as he lowered his mouth to hers. In a matter of seconds they were kissing hotly, pressed together and snogging as if their lives depended on it. Her hands were inside his shirt, traveling over his back. Ron's whole body was burning up; his jeans were squeezing him now. He fumbled in his jeans pocket for his wand. If he could just lock the attic door, if they could just have ten minutes alone...they hadn't shagged in over two weeks...

'Ron, Hermione, are you up here?'

Ron and Hermione leapt apart just as Mrs. Weasley appeared at the attic door.

'H-hi, Mum,' Ron croaked, tugging at his t-shirt to hide the embarrassing things going on in his jeans.

'Hi, Mrs. Weasley,' Hermione said quickly.

Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes and looked at Ron, then Hermione, then Ron.

'Is everything quite all right?' she asked, in clipped tones.

'Fine,' they both said at once.

'Good,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'I think you both should come out of here now; it's too hot to be stuck up here by yourselves. And Harry and Ginny were asking after you.'

'Right,' said Ron. He moved to take Hermione's hand, but she gave him a quick look and he reconsidered, and instead waited for her to head out the attic door and down the steps. Mrs. Weasley followed Hermione, and Ron brought up the rear, biting back a wince as his jeans pinched him painfully.

He suddenly couldn't wait to go back to school.

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

Apparition lessons were surprisingly uneventful, all things considered. There hadn't been a splinching since the fourth lesson, when they'd started Apparating to different floors within the Ministry, and Seamus had left behind the lower half of his right leg. He'd had to go to St. Mungo's for that, but he was patched up in a trice and appeared at the following lesson looking more embarrassed than traumatized.

'Better my leg than my willy,' he had muttered to Ron, grinning. 'Lavender can't have much fun with me without that.'

Ron smiled weakly and tried not to think about that night he and Harry had heard Seamus and Lavender shagging enthusiastically in the boys' dormitory showers.

Tonight, there was a frisson of nervousness throughout the training room. This was not only their last lesson, it was the test for their Apparition licenses. Normally, Kenneth said, tests were given on an individual, appointment basis, but with so many Aurors 'in the field' the Ministry had to start giving the test in a group setting.

Ron wasn't sure how he felt about this. On the one hand, he realized he was pretty good at Apparating. Well, he hadn't splinched himself, anyway. But to take a test like this in front of everyone was a bit nerve-wracking.

They were supposed to Apparate from the training room to a location in Covent Garden and back. All told, it wasn't a tremendous distance, but the potential for mishaps was high, because nobody had ever actually seen the location they were supposed to Apparate to; Kenneth had merely given them a street name and number and a description of the place. Then there was the timing aspect of the test: all of them had to successfully Apparate to and from Convent Garden in less than a minute.

'If you go over the allotted minute,' Kenneth was saying, 'but don't splinch yourself, you'll be considered "on probation" and be required to sit the test again in two weeks. If you splinch yourself at all, you'll be required to take a remedial course before you can re-test.'

Kenneth then announced that Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt were stationed at Convent Garden, along with two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, 'just in case.' Kingsley would Apparate back with each trainee and give a written report to Kenneth on the trainee's results.

The testing was done in alphabetical order, which meant that Seamus went first.

Kenneth pulled out a stop watch as Seamus went to the center of the room, looking very nervous; but then he closed his eyes, and five seconds later, he waved his wand, hard, and Disapparated. Ron immediately looked at his watch. Thirty seconds passed, thirty five, forty, and there was another loud crack! and Seamus reappeared. His hair was a mess, he was white-faced, and he was clutching at his left leg, but he was smiling weakly, and when Ron gave him an inquiring look, Seamus nodded.

'Congratulations, Mr. Finnigan,' said Kenneth. 'You made it. Kingsley should be here shortly with your marks.'

Not thirty seconds later, Kingsley Shacklebolt Apparated loudly into the training center; without a word he crossed to Kenneth and handed him a small scroll. Kenneth placed the scroll in a wicker basket; Kingsley nodded to him, then to the class, and Disapparated.

'Miss Granger, your turn.'

Ron and Harry both grinned at her. She walked steadily to the center of the room and took a deep breath.

'I'm starting the clock...now,' said Kenneth.

Hermione closed her eyes slowly; Ron felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Come on, you can do this; you've kicked our arses in every lesson since that first one...

CRACK!

Hermione was gone. Ron's eyes flew to his watch. Fifteen seconds. Twenty seconds. Twenty-one, twenty-two...

CRACK!

Ron's head shot up again to see Hermione, her hand trembling but her face lit up with a grin. Ron and Harry both gave her a thumbs-up, and a moment later, Kingsley was back; he smiled very briefly at Hermione before handing another small scroll to Kenneth.

And on it went.

Daphne Greengrass was next. She Apparated successfully, all told, but she cut it very fine, making it back in just under a minute. Harry was still casting furtive glances at her, and Ron rolled his eyes. Daphne was friendly enough, Ron had to admit, and she'd struck up conversations with them both. More importantly, she didn't appear to be remotely friendly with Draco, and then there was the fact that her brother had died defending Hogwarts. But she was still a Slytherin. Ron couldn't quite let go of that mistrust.

Interhouse unity, Weasley. Isn't Dumbledore always telling us how important that is?

Yeah, but with Slytherin? At least Cho was a Ravenclaw and Susan a Hufflepuff. Gryffindors get along fine with those houses.

Neville went, and he made it back in under a minute without any outward signs of splinching, but then, Neville had become the sort who rarely got it right the first time, but rarely got it wrong after that. He was a far cry these days from the nervous, bumbling kid he'd been when he'd first met Ron and the others.

Not that Neville didn't look positively terrified upon his return to the training room.

Malfoy went after that; he Apparated so fast he was barely gone. Hermione looked distinctly disgruntled that Malfoy bested her again. Harry went next, and he was even faster than Malfoy, which made Hermione grin and Malfoy scowl.

Then again, Harry looked utterly exhausted, and slightly green, upon returning.

'I hate magical travel,' he muttered to Ron, as he took his place in line again.

Ron agreed; Apparating might be instantaneous, but a broom was safer, more fun, and at least you knew where you'd end up every time.

Lisa Turpin went next; she was the first to go over the allotted minute, and on her return her eyes were full of tears. Ron felt a rush of pity for her, but he couldn't dwell on it, because suddenly it was his turn.

He took a deep breath and went to the center of the room. Kenneth nodded and started his stopwatch.

Ron closed his eyes and forced his mind to concentrate on the street address Kenneth had given him; the street corner, the street itself, which was a side street just south of the busy marketplace, a cobblestone street with an old print shop on the corner.

CRACK!

Ron opened his eyes and he was there. Tonks grinned.

'Wotcher, Ron!' she said enthusiastically. 'Good show. I'd call that a perfect landing.'

'Thanks,' said Ron.

'Well done, Weasley,' said Kingsley. 'Ready to head back. You've got forty-five seconds.'

'Yeah,' said Ron at once, and he closed his eyes and brought his mind to the training center, the padded walls, the people standing in a queue along one wall, waiting for him to return...

There was a flash of light and Ron stumbled. When he looked up he saw a man screaming. No, not a man. Voldemort. His red eyes were flashing and his lipless mouth was pulled back in a scream. And yet there was no sound coming from his throat. A thin trickle of blood dripped from his nose. And then Ron turned and saw Harry, his eyes green eyes bright with fury and pain, and he too, was in the midst of a silent scream, and there was a thin line of blood coming from his nose as well, and suddenly there was something there, pressing on Harry's forehead, and another flash of light...

'Ron? Ron!'

Ron opened his eyes. He was on the street corner, near Covent Garden.

'What?'

'Are you okay?' said Tonks anxiously. 'Thought we lost you there a minute.'

'Shit!' Ron hissed. He'd had a vision, right in the middle of his bloody test!

'How much time--'

'Ten seconds,' said Kingsley, eyeing him warily

Ron closed his eyes again.

Training room. Padded walls. People in a queue along one wall. Hermione, waiting for me to come back--

CRACK!

Ron opened his eyes and felt his heart skip a beat. He was back. His hands instinctively flew to his crotch (thank god, he was fine there), which inspired laughter from the class.

'All in one piece, I take it, Mr. Weasley?' said Kenneth dryly.

Ron flushed. 'Oh. Er, yeah.' He grinned sheepishly, ignoring the rolled eyes of Malfoy, and hurried over to Harry and Hermione.

'I had a vision,' he muttered at once.

'What?' Harry and Hermione hissed.

'Quiet, please!' Kenneth called. 'I know you're all tired but we have one more trainee to go before we're done.'

Another crack announced the arrival of Kingsley again.

'Thanks,' said Kenneth, taking yet another scroll from the other wizard and placing it in the basket. Kingsley nodded and Disapparated.

'Mr. Zabini,' said Kenneth.

'I'll tell you later,' Ron whispered, as Blaise Zabini took his place in the center of the room. He disappeared with a crack, and re-appeared roughly forty seconds later, looking none the worse for wear.

Kingsley came one last time to drop off the final scroll, but instead of Disapparating this time, he simply walked out the door of the training room.

Kenneth announced that they would be getting their testing marks by owl tomorrow, and would be able to pick up their licenses the day after that, assuming they had all passed, of course (Lisa whimpered just a little in embarrassment). Ron barely heard the rest of Kenneth's speech--something about congratulating them on their hard work, making sure that once they got their licenses they used Apparition safely, etc.

Lupin showed up to take them back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and by the time they stepped out of the kitchen fireplace Ron was bursting to tell Harry, Hermione and Ginny of his vision. Ginny was there sipping tea and reading over her Charms notes. She acknowledged them with a quick nod; Draco glanced at her but beat a hasty retreat out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

As soon as they were alone, Ron told them.

'They had nosebleeds?' said Hermione, looking confused.

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'What could that mean?'

'Me and Voldemort are cokeheads?' Harry suggested.

'You're what?' said Ron and Ginny together.

'Drug addicts,' said Hermione. 'And obviously that's not the case. At least not for Harry. No, it's something else...'

She began to pace slowly; nobody else seemed to be able to imagine what Ron's vision could possibly mean, but suddenly Hermione stopped pacing and her eyes lit up.

'What if it's trauma?' she said.

'Excuse me?' said Ron.

'Sorry,' she said. 'I'm getting ahead of myself. What I mean is, what if Ron saw Harry and Voldemort in a mental battle?'

'Makes sense,' said Harry, a bit glumly. 'It's happened before and...well, it'll probably happen again next time I see him.'

'What does that have to do with nosebleeds?' said Ron.

'Brain trauma,' said Hermione, and she bit her lip. 'Nosebleeds can sometimes be caused by head injury or trauma to the brain.'

'Oh, well, that's good to know,' said Harry, running a hand through his head.

'Harry, listen to me,' said Hermione. 'You've been wondering how you hurt Voldemort. Maybe...that's how.'

'Maybe what's how?' said Harry, confused.

'You fought with him,' said Hermione. 'Not just physically but mentally. Remember? He got inside your head and tried to possess you, but Ron got through to you and you...kicked Voldemort out of your head and that's when he Apparated. Maybe you hurt...his brain.'

'Are you serious?' Harry said doubtfully.

'Why not?' said Ginny. 'Your scar didn't hurt for a while, did it? How does he make your scar hurt, Harry? By connecting with you mentally.'

'But I haven't woken up with any nosebleeds,' Harry protested.

'Maybe that's because Voldemort hasn't been able to hurt you badly enough,' said Hermione. 'Maybe that's what the prophecy meant by "power the Dark Lord knows not".'

'Mental power?' said Harry. 'But...wait. Voldemort possessed me at the Riddle House, yeah, but I wasn't able to fight him off, not until Ron...'

His voice trailed off.

'Not until I what?' said Ron, and then his eyes went wide.

'I talked to you,' he said. 'Dumbledore said I got through to you, and that's why you were able to...fight him off.'

'I'm still confused,' said Harry, groaning. 'I mean, I get it. I...I can fight him off if I feel emotions but how am I supposed to kill him? Send him some loving thoughts and tell him I want to be his boyfriend or something? Give him a hug? Kill him with kindness?'

Ginny sniggered, and quickly covered her hand, but then Harry started to laugh. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, and then they, too were laughing. It didn't seem altogether appropriate, but with the seriousness of everything going on around them, Ron was willing to take laughter wherever he could get it.

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

Two days later, just a few days before they were to return to Hogwarts, the Apparition licenses arrived. Harry received the highest marks of all; Ron didn't care. He was just bloody glad he didn't have to retake the test.

Mrs. Weasley ordered all of them -- including Draco -- to keep their Apparition licenses safely on them until they were at school, at which time they should store them somewhere secure in their dorm rooms.

In the interim, Ron and the others frantically plowed through the remainder of their homework. The only upshot of having so much work was that Mrs. Weasley gave them a reprieve from cleaning house, but as Ron pulled out another piece of parchment to tackle his fifth Potions essay, he rather wished he could face a dozen rooms full of doxies instead, because his brain was about to explode.

Hermione, of course, had already finished her homework, and was devoting her attention to that fourth piece of parchment Dumbledore had sent, that contained all the new school rules and procedures. She was already planning the first prefects' meeting, to take place on the Hogwarts' Express. Ron tried to help a bit, but in the end she took over in a huff; he placated her, a bit, when he told her that it was just as well, because her notes were always perfect and her handwriting pristine, whereas his notes and his handwriting were both sloppy and illegible.

As a reward for Ron getting the Head Boy badge, Mrs. Weasley added a new cauldron to Ron's list of school things. She even bought one brand new, thanks to some funds she'd received from Fred and George, and this year, all their books were new, too.

Ron would have preferred some new clothes to a cauldron, but his old one really was nearly rusted through, and he wasn't about to question his mother at the moment, not the way she had been watching him every time he was within five feet of Hermione.

Mrs. Weasley had become a bloodhound, always tracking them. It was uncanny how she seemed to always be around whenever Ron and Hermione tried to be alone together. Ron didn't understand how there could be less privacy in a house so big and with so few people in it on a regular basis than there was at the Burrow when it was full to bursting of his relatives and friends.

With every passing minute Ron wanted to be on the Hogwarts Express, on his way to school where he had a room all to himself, where he could be properly alone with his girlfriend without having to worry about being interrupted all the bloody time. He wanted to be on his broom again, playing Quidditch; he didn't even want to think about how his game had suffered from the lack of practice. Things were getting so insufferable that he even looked forward to lessons. Well, all except lessons from Snape, which were sure to be particularly dreadful this year.

It wasn't until the night before they left for school that Ron remembered that none of them had any idea who the Dark Arts teacher would be this year. No doubt Dumbledore had trouble filling the position again this year; probably more trouble, considering what had happened last year. Ron couldn't help but wish Bill would come back -- he'd been a great teacher, even if all the girls acted silly over him. But it wouldn't happen, not after what Bill had gone through last year. And now, being engaged to Fleur...no, Bill was in enough danger simply working a desk job and traveling occasionally to talk to disgruntled goblins.

Ron and the others had decided to call a halt to their research into finding a way to destroy Voldemort. It was difficult to get access to any decent books, anyway, Hermione had complained, and as they couldn't go to Diagon Alley whenever they wanted and visit Longbottom Library, they agreed to hold off on any further investigating until they got to school. Harry didn't seem to mind in the least, and in the interim he reported no new pain in his scar. Ginny had no further nightmares of Tom Riddle. Ron had had no visions since the one on the night of the Apparition test, and his dreams were pretty much all sex dreams with Hermione, considering his deprivation on that front. But he wrote his dreams down anyway, on the off chance that he remembered something non-sex related that might be useful. Hermione taught him a few very powerful locking spells to prevent Draco from prying, and as Draco was not allowed to use a wand outside of Apparition training (Mrs. Weasley had always snatched her husband's old wand out of Draco's hand the moment they would return from training), Ron was confident the little prat wouldn't be able to read any of the entries.

Ron and Harry finally sat Ginny down and told her what they knew of her special powers; Ron let Harry do most of the talking. But neither of them could seem to bring up their suspicions about Draco, about the fact that he might have blackmailed her. Ginny, for her part, congratulated the boys on 'finally using their heads', and told them that she had indeed been training at school, under Madam Pomfrey, who'd done extensive work with a few Empaths in the past. Ron couldn't help but chuckle: Madam Pomfrey was an excellent Healer but she wasn't known for her sweet bedside manner. No wonder she had Ginny helping her.

The morning came to go back to school, and as usual, it was chaotic, only this time it was Draco causing problems. He whined that he didn't have enough clothes, that he wasn't allowed to levitate his trunk because he had no wand, that he had to walk to King's Cross with Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Harry (Harry promised Ron to hex the crap out of Malfoy if he so much as looked at Ginny) instead of being taken there in his father's luxury car. Draco shut up, however, the moment he saw Mad-Eye Moody show up. Even if, technically, the man who'd turned Draco into a ferret in fourth year was Barty Crouch, Jr., and not the actual Moody, Draco paled at the sight of Moody and kept well out of his way. Ron and Hermione took a slightly different route with Tonks and Lupin.

By the time they reached King's Cross station, it was quarter to eleven. They boarded the train in a jumble of trunks and cages, waving goodbye to their escorts; almost at once Draco stalked off, no doubt to find Crabbe and Goyle. Ron and Hermione, already dressed in their school uniforms with their badges pinned to their robes, left Ginny and Harry in the corridor -- they said they'd find a compartment. Ron and Hermione hurried to the front of the train to the Head Boy and Girl compartment. They rushed inside and stowed their trunks and pet cages. Ron was rather delighted to find that they were alone in a compartment, but Hermione was all business; she reached into her school bag and removed several pieces of parchment.

'Here are the notes for the first meeting with the prefects,' she said briskly. 'You take these and I'll take these.'

Ron stared at the pages of parchment. 'My god, Hermione, how many trees died for these notes?'

'Ha ha,' said Hermione dryly. 'Ron, it's important that we cover everything in the first meeting. There are a lot of new rules, you know that.'

'I know,' said Ron. 'And...oh, lovely. More "social events" to promote school unity. I guess we could plan a ball of some kind.'

'Probably,' said Hermione, 'although to be honest I wonder if a ball is the best way to promote school unity. The younger students can't participate and there's all that social pressure to show up with a date. And of course dressing up can really be a hassle. Maybe we should plan a Gobstones tournament or a school-wide picnic or something--'

'Hermione,' said Ron suddenly, 'let's plan a ball. Because it would be really nice if I could finally go to one as your date.'

Hermione's eyes went soft. 'How do you do that?' she asked, taking his hand.

'Do what?' he asked.

'Act all silly one minute and then all sweet and wonderful the next?'

Ron blushed and shrugged his shoulders. 'Dunno.' And then he grinned wickedly. 'Maybe I just do it to get in your knickers.'

She slapped his hand away and laughed. 'Ron!'

'Speaking of which,' he said, taking her hand and tugging her close.

'Ron, we have a prefects' meeting,' she said, but she didn't resist.

'I know,' he said, grinning.

'In five minutes,' said Hermione.

'Plenty of time,' said Ron.

'No,' said Hermione, laughing.

'Please,' Ron pleaded. 'I'm dying, Hermione.' He gave her his best lopsided grin.

'You're dying?' she said, putting a hand on her hip.

'Okay, I'm not dying,' he said, taking her hand again and pulling her back. 'But I am suffering.'

'Well...so am I,' she said loftily. 'You're not the only one who gets...worked up, you know.'

'Okay, then,' said Ron, 'why don't we do something about it?'

'Because in three and a half minutes we have a meeting and the last thing I need is to scramble my brain up by having a quickie with you in a train compartment, and in any case one of us has to be sensible, and since you refuse to be--'

He silenced her by kissing her; it was one of his favorite ways to shut her up, mostly because it was so bloody fun, but also because it was effective. Well, she had told him he was a good kisser.

She broke off. 'That was totally unfair.'

'I know,' he said.

'We can't,' she said. 'Not now.'

'I know,' he said, pouting a bit.

'But we can later,' she said. 'We could...christen my room.'

'Wicked,' he said, grinning, and she gave him a soft smile before she re-organized her notes and smoothed her robes.

Business now, shag later. He could live with that.

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

The meeting started a minute later. There were several new faces in the group, among the old ones. Anthony and Padma showed up, along with Ernie--he looked particularly disgruntled and Ron realized the other boy must have assumed he would get the Head Boy badge this year--and Hannah. There were some sixth year prefects, including Colin Creevey and a sixth year Gryffindor girl Ron did not know, and a few fifth year prefects as well, all of whom politely introduced themselves; Ron immediately forgot all their names. But Ron knew immediately who the Slytherin prefects were, and they were not Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy.

'Er, hi,' said Ron.

'Hello,' said Hermione, putting on her best smile.

'Hi,' said Daphne Greengrass, and she was friendly enough.

'Hey,' said Blaise Zabini, very coolly. 'We're the new seventh-year prefects for Slytherin. Guess Dumbledore decided Draco and Pansy weren't up for the jobs.'

Before Ron could really contemplate this the meeting began in earnest. It lasted well over an hour, and Hermione did most of the talking, explaining the duties of the prefects and most of the dormitory rules. Ron took over on issues of security; there would be regular Auror guards at the school now, as well as trolls.

'Don't mess with them,' Ron warned. 'They'd as soon take your head off as protect you.'

The meeting ended with handshakes and Hermione passing out various schedules: of meetings, of study groups and event planning. Everyone filed out, except Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass.

'Congratulations, Weasley,' Blaise said. 'On making Head Boy. And you, Granger.'

'Thank you,' said Hermione primly. She cast a glance at Daphne, who gave her a cool smile.

'Let's not waste time on niceties, okay?' said Blaise. 'I know there's a lot of bad blood between our houses, and I know Draco was responsible for a lot of it.'

'Most of it,' said Ron stiffly. 'But he had some help.'

'Yes, he did,' said Daphne evenly. 'But times change, and circumstances change. Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters in training.'

'I know that,' said Ron defensively.

'I don't think you do,' said Blaise, and when Ron started to protest, the dark-haired boy held up his hands. 'It's not all on you, Weasley. Slytherins haven't exactly done anything to endear ourselves to the other houses. But I'm telling you now, as the newly appointed official representatives of Slytherin house, that we're on your side. We don't all of us bow down to the Dark Lord.'

'Is that so?' said Ron, looking down at Blaise doubtfully.

'Yeah, that's so,' said Blaise. 'We don't have to become friends, Weasley. I'm just saying, let's bury the hatchet like grown-ups and be civil.'

'Why should we trust you?' Ron asked, in as calm a voice as he could.

'Because we've lost people, too,' said Daphne, and her voice shook slightly.

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, then looked at Blaise and Daphne, who stood ramrod straight. They might be Slytherins, and they might be proud and even arrogant, but there was no disguising the traces of hurt in their eyes.

'All right, then,' said Ron, and he held out his hand to Blaise, who shook it firmly.

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

Very shortly after that, Blaise and Daphne left. Ron managed to convince Hermione to join him in a good long snog in the Head Boy/Head Girl compartment, but when he moved to take off her robes, she called a halt to things. Ron groaned and pouted but then Hermione whispered a few things in his ear -- things they could do later in her room, and he decided he could stand waiting a few more hours.

'Besides, this is our last trip to Hogwarts after the summer holidays,' said Hermione. 'We should spend some time with Harry and Ginny.'

They left the compartment, leaving their things behind, and headed toward the back of the train to the compartment where they'd initially dropped Harry off.

They were halfway there when they saw Harry himself walking down the corridor.

'Hey,' said Ron. 'Going to the loo?'

'Why, you want to join me?' Harry asked dryly.

'No, you prat,' said Ron. 'Meeting's over, we thought we'd join you and Ginny, whoever else.'

'Ginny left with Colin but Neville and Luna are still there,' said Harry, and his voice was edged with...something.

Annoyance?

'Be careful, though,' Harry went on. 'Earlier we came to a compartment and Neville and Luna were in there, sucking each other's faces off.'

Ron grimaced. 'Lovely image, Harry, thanks. Look, if you're not going to the loo, come back and we'll play chess or something.'

Harry shook his head. 'I'm sick of sitting around. I think I'll take a walk for a bit, join you later.'

'You're sure you're okay, Harry?' said Hermione, placing a hand on his arm.

He gave her a tight smile. 'I'm fine. See you in a bit.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. 'Okay,' said Ron, and Harry moved down the corridor; he was just about to go into the next car when he nearly collided with Daphne Greengrass. Ron watched Harry apologize, and then Daphne apologize. Both of their faces were slightly pink, and though Ron could only see Harry's profile, he recognized the look on Harry's face as he spoke with Daphne.

'Ron, don't stare,' Hermione hissed. 'Let's go.'

'Wait,' said Ron, ignoring Hermione tugging his hand. He watched as Daphne smiled prettily at something Harry said, and then the two of them nodded and walked off together in the opposite direction.

'Ron!' Hermione hissed, and she yanked on his hand, hard, and Ron let himself be led away.

They entered the compartment to find Neville and Luna, thankfully, not locked in a passionate embrace. Rather, Neville was sleeping soundly, his head on Luna's lap, as she read the latest edition of The Quibbler, upside down.

'Er, hi,' said Ron uncertainly, smiling as Luna looked up from her magazine.

Her face lit up.

'Hello, Ronald!' she said dreamily. 'Hermione. It's lovely to see you.'

'You, too,' said Ron.

'Hello, Luna,' said Hermione, pursing her lips slightly. 'Good magazine?'

'Not one of Dad's best, no,' said Luna mournfully, shaking her head. 'Our trip to Sweden this summer was not very successful.'

'No Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, eh?' said Ron, trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

'No,' said Luna, shrugging. 'Dad thinks they might have migrated to north. They really only like very cold water, you see. Global warming has caused the water temperatures to rise and the Snorkacks can't tolerate water above 5 degrees Celsius--'

'That's very interesting,' said Hermione quickly, hoping to stave off any further ramblings about Snorkacks. But Luna was not deterred.

'Isn't it?' said Luna. 'Anyway, Neville was there, too -- he said you all had Apparition training together. My fathers says that Apparition is very unhealthy. He says that every time a person Apparates, he suffers microscopic brain damage that's cumulative over time. He says--'

They were saved from further commentary by Luna when Neville snorted and opened his eyes and sat up.

'Hi, Ron, Hermione,' he said sleepily. 'Good prefect meeting?'

'Thrilling,' said Ron, feeling suddenly annoyed that Harry wasn't here. This was their last September 1 trip to Hogwarts. And Harry was off with some girl -- a Slytherin girl.

Leave it. The poor bloke's lonely and deserves some female company.

Yeah, but Daphne?

She's good looking, she's nice, she made a peace offering, and she and Harry seem to get along. Better that than Harry mooning over Susan.

'Fancy some chess, Neville?' Ron asked.

'Sure,' said Neville happily, and they set to playing, as Hermione opened the book she'd carried from the Head Boy/Girl compartment.

Ron beat Neville twice -- quite spectacularly -- before Harry reappeared.

'Hey,' he said.

'Hi, Harry,' said Neville. 'Maybe you can take over. Ron's killing me.'

'Won't be any different if I play,' said Harry, shrugging, and he sat down next to Ron.

Ron resisted the urge to ask about Daphne; with Neville and Luna in the compartment it didn't seem the appropriate time or place to delve into Harry's love life, such as it was.

Instead, they played chess, and Ron won as usual, and they bought sweets from the trolley cart, and as the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Ron tried to ignore the pang in his chest as he realized that he would never again be making this journey to Hogwarts as students.

'You okay, Ron?' Harry asked, as he pulled his trunk from the luggage rack.

'Fine,' said Ron. 'Just...can you believe...it's our last year of school...'

'You're not going to get all mushy on me now, are you?' Harry asked, grinning.

'Piss off,' said Ron, swatting Harry across the back of the head.

'Ron, we have to go!' Hermione hissed. 'We have to be at the front to make sure all the students get loaded in the carriages properly.'

'Right,' said Ron. He turned to Harry and grinned. 'Welcome home, mate.'

And the three of them stepped out of the compartment, off the train, and onto the platform, to face their seventh year.