Seeking Hermione's Bean

Seeking Hermione's Bean

Chapter 4. Spilling the Bean(s)

"All right, mate. What's going on?"

I shook myself the moment the words were out of my mouth--what the hell was I doing? Why was I--Ron Weasley, Gryffindor Prefect and Quidditch Keeper, best friend and long-time companion of The-Boy-Who-Lived and The-Smartest-Witch-In-A-Generation, keeper of the secrets of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger--asking Dean Thomas what was going on with my best friends?

I knew what other people thought of me: Potter's sidekick. The glory-seeking hound who somehow or other had attached himself to Harry Potter in first year and never let go; who was with him when he went after the basilisk in Second Year, the guy that Sirius Black tried to kill in Third, the git who broke up his friendship with Harry Potter in Fourth only to come slinking back after the First Task, who'd constantly bickered and fought with Hermione from first year onwards to the point that a lot of people--even Harry, the clueless prat!-- thought there was something going on between us when anyone with half a brain would know that I loved nothing more than getting Hermione in a snit because she's too goody-goody to hex me for teasing her--which was why I enjoyed getting her dander up rather than trying to bicker with Ginny...

The redhead who was rich in over-achieving siblings but nothing else... and I sighed to myself.

Times change; people change... and there's nothing like a life-or-death situation to make one realize just what's important in life.

Even if it had to take quite a few of those life-or-death situations to drive the point home.

Hey, I know I'm dense... I've had to accept the fact that Hermione was right when she said I had the emotional range of a teaspoon. I should be walking around with white hair and a beard to rival Dumbledore's after everything I've gone through with Harry and Hermione: sacrificing myself on that giant chessboard beneath the school in first year, walking into Aragog's lair and then diving into the Chamber of Secrets in second year with my broken wand, standing up to Sirius Black in third year with my broken leg and dizzy brain... joining Harry in the Ministry of Magic because I thought it was going to be another great adventure to tell my kids!

Sheesh--I still shudder whenever I think of the way I was.

The walls of Hogwarts had nothing on me when it comes to density.

But some things are just too obvious.

Harry and Hermione, for example.

I don't know when I first realized it... scratch that--it wasn't a matter of 'realizing' as much as accepting the fact that there was something special between them. Was it in first year when she hexed Neville with a Full-Body Bind when Harry said, "Do something"? Or maybe in second year when her letter arrived and had three mentions of Harry in the first paragraph alone--four if you counted 'Dear Ron, and Harry if you're there...'?

Come to think of it, the only concern she ever showed me in that letter was that I was going to do something illegal that would get Harry in trouble--what about me?

Third year was the Broomstick Servicing Kit she gave him for his birthday--and the first question she asked when we met up in Diagon Alley was, "How's Harry? Have you seen him? Is he all right?" Not even a word about my vacation in Egypt, and we had to walk all over Diagon Alley with Hermione looking everywhere for him as we bought our school supplies, tense and unhappy until the moment we spied Harry outside Florean Fortescue's...

And fourth year... do I have to go through the litany again?

Do I even have to add all the times when she just seemed to know what Harry was thinking, or all the times when she'd just grab his arm when she was frightened, or the hours she'd spend in the hospital wing whenever he was injured, or--

Or all the times when Harry seemed to know what she was thinking; all those moments when they'd just look at each other and they'd start acting as if they were sharing a single brain--

Brains.

I shudder at the thought. Merlin knows--those brains in the Department of Mysteries still haunt my every nightmare. Not just the brain wrapping itself around me--now I can laugh at Dean's accent as he goes into his Dr. Frankenstein's (whoever he is!) 'I can transfer the brain into his body' routine--but the horrible assault of thoughts, memories, emotions, feelings and everything else that the brain looking for a body to rule poured into me makes me shake like a mouse in Hedwig's beak.

If there was one benefit that the therapy gave me, however, it was that I had been forced to re-live my memories over and over, trying to separate that which was mine and those of the brain. And the process had made me re-think everything that I had ever known... and made me re-examine so many things about myself and my actions over the past five and more years...

"RON!"

I nearly fell off my chair at the shout--blinking rapidly, I realized that Dean Thomas was in my face and I realized that I'd been wool-gathering as he'd asked me something. I stared at him blankly for a moment and made a grab when he was about to stand up and leave, apologizing for my inattention and asking him to repeat his question.

And gaped when he did: "How do you feel about Hermione, Ron?"

Thank Merlin that Colin had gone up to his dormitory with Ginny to get the beans--I don't think I can stand another picture of "Oblivious Ron" going the rounds. As it was, the look on Dean's face made me realize that I had pulled off another of my patented 'blank' looks--probably the one which had me looking from Harry to Hermione and back as they'd talked about something about which I totally had no clue until something or other made me realize what it was they were talking about...

"Ron?"

Dean's eyes were boring into mine in the way that I'd imagine some Legilimens Master would be doing it, and I had to look away for a moment. Dean has been a good friend, I reflected... and thought back on the time I'd spent with him, Seamus and Neville in Fourth Year when I'd let my density run away with me, acting like the injured party in a relationship simply because I couldn't conceive of the thought that Harry would be keeping secrets from me, his best friend.

But Dean had straightened me out on that point: and he'd cut me down with a style and manner that would have done justice to the way Bill or Charlie would have talked to me. Maybe it came from being the eldest in his family, I reflected... or maybe because he was so good at drawing and sketching, often seeing details and small things that would have passed the clueless ones like me.

Dean may be no Hermione Granger when it came to grades, but he'd shown all the courage and heart of a Gryffindor at various times in our classes... and at the same time, he'd shown us all what friendship and supporting others meant--even if he was not part of the Trio.

I shook myself as his voice broke through once again... and I knew I had to face the question squarely. Whatever was happening with Harry--and Dean's worried face told me that he knew something--it also had something to do with Hermione.

And when it comes to Hermione...

"I-I..."

I took a deep breath and let it out, answering at the same time as the air left my lungs: "I love her, Dean... but not in the way Harry loves her."

I turned away as I hear a collective breath escape Dean and Seamus and Neville, who were sitting on either side of me. From somewhere in a far-off corner of my mind, I heard someone saying in a voice that sounded strangely like mine: "I love her, Dean... but Harry's in love with her."

I looked and saw sympathy and understanding in Dean's eyes, and heard whoever it was who was speaking in my voice whisper, "And she's in love with Harry."

I nearly jump as I feel two hands on my shoulders, and realized that Seamus and Neville had a hand on my shoulder as I heard Dean's soft voice, "I'm sorry, mate."

***

In a small alcove outside the Great Hall, a pair of teary brown eyes met a pair of sympathetic blue eyes that, for a briefly confusing moment, appeared to have lost their characteristic dottiness before both turned away from each other, hands dropping to sides, each holding what looked to be a long piece of flesh-colored string.

"Well," Ginny Weasley whispered quietly, seemingly to herself. "At least he's realized it."

"But has he accepted it?" Ginny blinked as she turned to her companion, but Luna had turned away from her and continued in her 'normal,' Luna-is-detached-from-the-world voice: "Unrequited love is a painful thing to have."

"Speaking from experience, are we?" Ginny teased, softly but felt disconcerted when Luna's protuberant eyes focused on her.

"Speak for yourself, Ginevra Weasley."

She opened her mouth to retort but just as quickly shook her head, her mane of brilliant red hair obscuring her suddenly shamed face. It was one thing to tease the young Ravenclaw: she was, too often, an easy mark to laugh at because she was quick to laugh with you--but it was quite another thing to have the tables turned...

Before the moment could turn embarrassing, however, Luna lifted her end of the Extendable Ears and said, with a slight smile at her friend, "I think we better get back to business?"

Ginny smiled and with a slight nod, turned back to the conversation they were eavesdropping on--but the words they heard caused their mouths to drop open in shock--and a moment later, to jerk the Extendable Ears away from their ears as a muted roar resounded from within the empty Great Hall: "WHAT?"

***

"You-Know-Who's going after Harry, Ron..." Dean Thomas looked away for a moment as he gathered his breath and his courage together. Steeling himself for what he was about to say, he blurted: "And he's using Hermione to do it."

Dean dove under the table as Ron rose from his chair with a roar: "WHAT?"

Being in Gryffindor isn't all it's cracked up to be, he thought to himself as he cowered under the table, waiting for the whoosh of a cast hex to fly around the Great Hall, hoping that Seamus and Neville would be able to manage the enraged Ronald Weasley before any major damage could occur.

"Dean?" Seamus' voice floated in the air above him. "You can come out now..."

He cautiously peeked out from under cover and saw a straining Neville and Seamus holding down Ron in his chair; the latter, red-faced and with bulging veins fighting to break loose from the two. The moment he saw Dean, he started cursing: "Take that back, you, you--You're mental! Hermione'd never do that... she'd rather be dead than give Harry up to, to--"

With a sigh, Dean drew out his wand and pointed it at Ron; the latter's eyes suddenly bulging even more as he said in a soft, calm voice, "Ron, if you don't calm down and listen, I'm going to cast the Full-Body Bind on you so you can hear what I'm saying."

Ron opened his mouth, but Dean quickly overrode him: "I didn't say that Hermione's involved in this; I said You-Know-Who's using her to get to Harry. There's a difference, you thick-headed lunk!"

"Yeah," Seamus Finnigan piped up from his position beside Ron, "It isn't that she's gonna be shagging Harry to death!"

Dean rolled his eyes at that and briefly thought about Stunning Seamus, a thought he quickly discarded as he saw Ron's ever-more bulging eyes. He quickly lifted his wand in a threatening gesture and watched as, with a major effort of will, Ron took a deep breath and relaxed in his seat. The others, seeing this, also relaxed but both kept their arms loosely around Ron, both realizing that Ron's explosive temper may only be set on 'Simmer,' not 'Boil.'

Before Dean could say a word, however, Neville interrupted him: "Ron's right, Dean... it seems a bit much that You-Know-Who would be trying to use Hermione to attack Harry--"

"Will you guys listen first?" Dean replied as he rolled his eyes in a gesture so reminiscent of a certain Gryffindor they all knew that Ron, Seamus and Neville had to laugh. When Dean was sure he had their attention, he slowly--and logically--walked them through his observations and deductions starting two nights before when Harry brought the bag of beans from Hogsmeade--the beans that Carolyn had shared with the whole dorm; Harry's actuations yesterday when he'd been incredibly animated and seemed to be walking around on a sugar high--

"Remember the look on Snape's face, Ron?" Dean blinked at Neville's gleeful expression and grinned... Ron's and Seamus' faces were a study in bliss as it was a rare day in hell indeed when Snape was unable to take points off Gryffindor, but Harry's quick responses to Snape's verbal quiz and the perfect Potion he'd brewed that day saved the day.

"Anyway," Dean continued, "he left dinner early--remember, Ron?"

The redhead nodded. He'd wanted to join his friend but stopped when Harry shook his head at them; besides, he remembered that he'd had to serve out a detention with Filch for trying to hex Goyle in the boy's bathroom on the ground floor--and blinked in surprise when Dean recounted what happened when the others returned to the Common Room.

"He--what?" he finally stammered.

"Harry was sitting there, cool as you please--staring at a bean before eating it," Seamus broke in, interrupting Dean. Neville was nodding beside Ron, apparently seeing the scene in his mind's eye as Seamus continued: "He was acting real strange, mate... you know, he'd be looking at it as if it were the first time he'd ever seen the thing, turning it over and over... there was a moment when I thought that he'd smell the darned thing--"

"And then he'd pop the bean into his mouth and look as if he wanted to throw up..." Dean and Seamus looked at Neville, who blushed at their surprised look. "Hey guys, you're not the only ones worried here, you know..."

"So what happened?" The other three turned back to a now-worried Ron, and Seamus and Neville relaxed in their chairs on either side as Dean took up the tale, telling Ron about waking up and seeing Harry humping his pillow, mumbling about...

Dean suddenly stopped and took a deep breath as Seamus braced himself, surreptitiously palming his wand in case he had to stun Ron. Neville, seeing the tension build up in the other two, slowly began sliding away from Ron, although the latter merely leaned forward, eager to find out whatever it was that had caused Harry to act so strangely...

"What, Dean? What was Harry mumbling about?"

"Hermione's Bean."

***

The roar of a feral lion was a whimper compared to the bellow that emanated from the Great Hall--a sound loud enough to cover the noise of two sets of jaws dropping to the floor as well as the sound of two stunned girls falling to their knees, their sense of balance disrupted by the assault on their nerves from Ron's scream of rage--

Moments passed as the two shaken girls stared at each other, both shaking their heads as they tried to clear the ringing in their ears, although neither could say whether they were also shaking their heads in denial at what they'd just heard...

With a quick nod, they silently agreed to forego any conversation or discussion and quickly reactivated the Extendable Ears...

***

A grimacing Dean Thomas pulled his fingers from his ears as he tried to shush a livid Ron Weasley from opening his big mouth even further and spilling the beans into the Great Hall. He knew what Ron's reaction would be, as did Seamus and he was thankful as he saw the burly Irishman stop Ron from climbing the table to try and attack him as Neville gaped to one side, and Ron continued to gulp air and as he tried to articulate the very same questions that had been assaulting his mind earlier that day: "How can Volde-gulp!-He-Who-gulp!-You-Know--Whatever!--even know about--"

But it was Dean's and Seamus' turn to gape as they watched Ron suddenly deflate as if air had been let out of an exploded bag, slumping in his chair and whimpering softly, his eyes focused on something or someone far away. Their eyes met briefly in wonder, and then Dean's eyes flicked momentarily to the Slytherin table; Seamus' eyes followed his and he nodded, thinking that that Ron had made the same connection as they did and feeling a momentary satisfaction that they had guessed correctly and not made a wild guess.

They didn't know how wrong they were.

Ron wasn't thinking about ferrets, Slytherins or Rita Skeeter.

His mind had locked on something else: a fat grey rat with a missing finger that was sleeping when he'd shown him to Harry... the rat he'd tried to turn yellow in order to impress the clueless Boy-Who-Lived with his ability to do magic... the rat that had been Percy's before it was handed down to him... the rat who'd slept in his bed, who'd chewed on his sheets, who was fond of Fudge Flies and other treats from Honeydukes... whom he'd defended and protected against every effort by Hermione's cat to murder him...

Wormtail.

Also known as Scabbers.

The Wizard once known as Peter Pettigrew of the Marauders.

Now a loyal servant of Vol-er, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... and Ron's mind conjured up a memory of Harry's horrified voice as he described the unholy ceremony where Scabbers had sacrificed a hand but which had brought You-Know-Who back to flesh and blood life...

The bloody bastard didn't need any junior Death Eaters or even Rita Skeeter to know all about Hermione...

And his eyes locked with Dean in frightened understanding as he whispered, "What the hell do we do, Dean?"

For a long moment, Dean sat quietly and the others waited with bated breath. This should be Harry and Hermione's task, Neville thought to himself, but with Harry out of the picture and none of them willing to tell Hermione what was going on (he shuddered at the thought of walking up to her and telling her, "Hey, guess what? Harry's been dreaming about your bean..."), and looked up to see Dean straightening in his chair, a look of fierce determination on his face--

***

Ginny realized that Luna's worried eyes were on her and she gritted her teeth; like Ron, she had made the connection to his one-time pet rat and the amazing story that Ron and Hermione had told her that first summer at Grimmauld Place when she had nearly fainted at the sight of Sirius Black, Wizarding Enemy No. 1, sharing the same living space as her.

The revelations of that day had her mind in a whirl--and made her realize, once again, the level of trust that Hermione and Ron shared with Harry... and drove the thought, like a stake through her heart, that there was no way in the world that she could ever catch up with Hermione in the ways that would matter the most to Harry. It had been that revelation which made her drop her fairy-tale dreams of ever coming true and she opened her mind and heart to other people--like Michael Corner last year, and Dean Thomas this year.

A flicker of movement caught her eye and she turned--and again felt her jaw, along with her heart, dropping to the floor as she saw a scrawny, dust-colored creature scampering down the corridor. She immediately started patting the pockets of her robe and uniform, frantically searching for something as she whispered harshly, "Mrs. Norris!" to Luna Lovegood.

The Ravenclaw's eyes bulged even more than they usually did and Ginny felt a rush of sympathy as she heard a whimper escape the other girl's throat. Luna opened her mouth to say something but Ginny had found what she was looking for--and quickly shoved the orange half of a Puking Pastille into the other girl's mouth.

In seconds, Luna Lovegood was bent over the floor, hand to mouth in an effort to stop the bile from flowing out her throat--and Ginny had an arm around her just as Argus Filch came stomping up, screaming, "Got you, you little--what in blazes is happening to her?"

Luna had looked at him, eyes bulging, face distressed, a line of drool flowing out of a corner of her mouth and the old man gawked. Ginny grabbed the opportunity: "It must be the beans, Mr. Filch... we were heading to classes when she suddenly felt faint and started retching..."

"Take her to Madam Pomfrey!" the frightened caretaker roared. "And take a care not to throw up on my floors, Missy or I'll have the both of you in detention..."

Nothing more needed to be said, and the two young girls quickly scuttled off, with Ginny cursing under her breath at the inopportune timing of the cat and the caretaker, wondering what Dean meant with the last words they'd overheard:

"We fight fire with fire."