An Ideal Death-Eater

Author's Notes: Warning to Ron fans. My beta, Claire, is the biggest Ron fan I know. I am also a Ron fan (finally), so don't worry your pretty little heads about him. He is going to be all right. Truly!

Mrs Weasley had occasion to fret three days later when Hermione sent word that she was able to travel to the Burrow and would be arriving that afternoon at the same time as the twins who were done with their business trip early.

"Oh, what am I going to do? The twins are coming by Portkey and Hermione will be at King's Cross! How can I possibly be here to greet the twins and there to take care of Hermione at the same time!"

"Molly," Arthur Weasley squeezed his wife's shoulder firmly. "You don't have to personally greet everyone who comes into our home. The boys can go to pick up Hermione at the station and you can still be here to see to the twins."

"But what if she— "

"Mum! She'll be fine, honest. Harry and I'll take good care of her. S'not like she's made of porcelain or anything." Ron was in the kitchen when he heard his mother fretting on about transportation.

"Besides that, do you think it wise to leave Malfoy alone here?" Harry spoke up, glancing outside to where the blonde in question was leaning against a tree, having a smoke.

Mrs Weasley shook her head. "I suppose there's no help for it." She looked out the window to where Harry had been gazing a moment before and her face hardened as she stomped to the door, slamming it into the frame.

"Draco Malfoy!"

Draco choked on his cigarette and glanced up.

"Put that thing out at once and come inside!" Mrs Weasley left the door open as Draco marched in, scowl firmly in place. "Honestly," she continued once he was inside and the door was shut. "That stuff does horrible things to young ones, stunts their growth."

One raised eyebrow was the only response she received from the six-foot three inch Malfoy. This was ignored of course as Mrs Weasley went back to baking her pies, her wand waving over them dangerously. Ron glanced at Harry and squirmed before Mr Weasley broke the silence.

"Well, my lunch hour is over. Boys, if you're coming we had better leave."

Ron and Harry waved good bye to Mrs Weasley and followed Mr Weasley to the fireplace where he started lecturing them.

"Now, make sure that you have plenty of Floo powder in your pouch and that it doesn't all get burned, there is a shortage you know."

"We know, Dad! Hermione said that she wanted to do a little Christmas shopping before we come back, but we'll be home before dark." Ron crossed his arms and stared at his father. He'd already heard that speech at least three times that day.

"Just you be sure that you are all here when I get home. I don't relish hearing your mother have a tantrum tonight because you aren't."

"Tantrum, Arthur?"

Mr Weasley looked up to the doorway where his wife stood, her arms folded with a very solid looking spoon peaking through. He smiled weakly.

"Poor choice of words, love."

Mrs Weasley snorted and turned round to go back into the kitchen. Ron could hear her admonishing Draco for touching the freshly baked mince pies. If ever there were a time to leave, it would be then.

"Let's get out of here, Ron," Harry whispered. "Before Malfoy wants to come along."

Ron nodded to Harry as his father jumped into the flames with the command of ‘Ministry of Magic'. Harry followed, shouting out ‘Diagon Alley' as he disappeared into the greenish flames. Ron took a moment longer though, sorting something out in his head. Then he smiled as he tossed Floo powder into the grate and trailed after Harry.

When Ron looked up, Harry was standing nearby, dusting soot from his hair and clothing. He did the same before they stepped away from the fireplace in Madame Malkin's and walked out into the alley proper. Ron slung a friendly arm around Harry's shoulders as they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron and from there, Muggle London.

"Harry, why don't you let me pick up Hermione? I know you wanted to go take a look at the new Firebolt prototype they have up at Quality Quidditch Supplies." Ron added a teasing grin to these words that he hoped looked genuine. Apparently it wasn't because Harry glanced at him sharply.

"I thought we agreed that we wouldn't drag Hermione in there, because if I go at all, it'll be with you and Hermione."

Ron attempted to keep his face from falling and pressed a bit harder. "I know, that's why I figured I'd be gracious just this once and let you go and take a look while I get the baggage at King‘s Cross."

Harry drew his eyebrows into the beginnings of a frown. "Did you just call Hermione baggage?"

"No, no," Ron protested, taking his arm from about Harry's shoulder to wave in front of him. "I just figured that you would want a little time to do some shopping or what. I know you didn't go on that last Hogsmeade weekend with us."

"Ron, I haven't been to Hogsmeade since the beginning of term. I was planning on Flooing back here tomorrow so I could get my shopping done. Today is Hermione's day. I've been beastly to her lately and I wanted to make it up."

"Oh," was all that Ron could say as he bowed his head and struggled to compose his features into something resembling chagrin. Inside though, he was seething. "I was hoping to have Hermione to myself for a while so we could shop for your present."

Harry blinked for a moment before laughing. "Go on then. I'll meet you at Florean's in about two hours, all right?"

Ron grinned, this time legitimately, and shook Harry‘s hand. "Done then."

He raced off, leaving Harry staring at him in the middle of Diagon Alley.

When he reached Platform-Nine-and-Three-Quarters, Ron noticed that the Hogswarts Express was almost empty of passengers, which left the platform not nearly as crowded as it usually was. Ron spotted Hermione right away and waved to her as he broke into a run. She was frowning when he came up short, puffing for air.

"Where's Harry?"

His face fell slightly before he replaced it with a grin and grabbed the girl up in a bone-crushing embrace, squishing Crookshanks in the process, who spit and clawed frantically.

"Ron!" she admonished. "I still have injuries, you know. Madame Pomfrey only let me go because I promised to rest and not do anything strenuous."

"Sorry, Hermione," Ron gasped out. "But blimey it's good to see you!"

Hermione smiled brightly and patted him on the shoulder as he lifted her small trunk with ease. "It's good to see you too, Ron."

Ron beamed as he cut a path through the pre-Christmas crowd toward the bus stop, holding onto one of Hermione‘s hands so they didn‘t get separated. The station was noisy so neither spoke until he set her trunk down on the curb. Muggle London was rather exciting, but it didn't interest him right then. Hermione was busy stuffing Crookshanks into a basket that was permanently attached to the top of her trunk with many a yowl of protest from said cat. Then she looked up from her exertions and smiled widely.

"It really is good to see you. I think I have Madame Pomfrey's face eternally engraved into my memory and I‘d almost forgotten that anyone else existed."

Ron laughed as he stuck Hermione's case on the luggage rack and followed her onto the bus. He kept her busy laughing so much that she didn't remember Harry wasn't with them until they had arrived near the Leaky Cauldron.

"Ron, where's Harry?"

"Oh," he waved off while taking Hermione's trunk off of the bus. "He wanted to catch up on his shopping since he hasn't had the chance to go to Hogsmeade for so long. We‘ll be meeting him at Florean‘s in about an hour."

Hermione stopped in the act of taking her cat from its box preparatory to entering the Leaky Cauldron and narrowed her eyes. "You told me that he spends every weekend in Hogsmeade."

Ron felt his stomach flip and his breath catch painfully in his chest. He swallowed hard before carrying her luggage into the wizarding pub. "I-I must have been mistaken."

Hermione whirled on him, her arms full of ginger-fluff. "No, you told me that he was in Hogsmeade last weekend. You even specified exactly what he was doing since he wasn't with us."

"Hermione, I— "

"You told me that he was at the Quivering Rooster getting drunk again and that I should just let him blow off steam how he saw fit! Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't! He told me that— "

"You're a very bad liar, Ron." Hermione cut him off, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "I can tell when you're not speaking the truth. Usually," she amended. "What are you hiding?"

"Don't believe me then! See if I care. You can take your own bloody baggage."

Ron stormed out the doors back into Muggle London, leaving Hermione standing there with Crookshanks, looking on the verge of tears. The pub had stopped talking and watched as she sniffed once and picked up the handle of her trunk to drag it into Diagon Alley.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry was smiling as he opened the door to Florean's an hour later, the tinkling bell matching his mood. But the sides of his grin drooped abruptly as he spotted Hermione's small figure clutching her cat in a lonely corner booth. Where was Ron? He strode up to her in a determined manner, ready for anything.

Almost.

Upon sighting Harry, Hermione burst into fresh sobs and ran towards him, Crookshanks hanging on precariously as she launched into his arms.

"Oh Harry, it's horrible!" she cried, smothering her face in his shirtfront. He rubbed her arms briskly and guided her back to the booth, sliding in beside her.

"What's the matter? Did you and Ron get into a row again? It's been a while but it was bound to happen eventually," Harry mumbled the last as if he regretted speaking his thoughts aloud.

Hermione shook her head, tears glittering like tiny diamonds upon her spiky eyelashes. "It's worse than just a fight, Harry. H-he's been lying."

"Lying?" This didn't particularly surprise Harry, but it seemed serious to Hermione so he gave her his full attention.

"He told me before Christmas break that you had already done your shopping in Hogsmeade last weekend. So he offered to take me out for your present when I came back from Hogwarts. But when I asked him where you were, he said you were shopping because you hadn't had the chance to go to Hogsmeade before we left for the holidays." She said this all very earnestly and almost entirely without taking a breath, the words stumbling over each other in her haste.

Harry frowned. "It is odd, but nothing to really get upse— "

"But that isn't all." She cut him off. "When was the last time you were in Hogsmeade?"

"Uh, last trip before summer holidays, I think. Ron and I went to— Well, we went somewhere for just the guys. Please don't beat me up about it, Hermione. It was a while ago and I only had a few drinks and . . . things before we came home. Sorry," he added hastily, blood rushing to his cheeks. Hermione wasn't paying attention to this last part, but her eyes were magnificent with righteous anger. His eyes widened and he hastened to repeat himself. "I said I was sorry, Hermione!"

"No, it isn't that," she whispered, so softly that he almost didn't hear her. "Ron has been telling me that you've gone down to Hogsmeade every weekend to drink and— well, keep company."

Harry felt his face burn white-hot at that point, his knuckles crunching against the table. "Keeping company? With who?"

"Everyone from what Ron says."

"I've never— " Harry sputtered. "Well, I have, but not— How dare he tell such an outrageous lie! Why didn‘t you ever say anything to me before?"

Hermione shrugged, her face very pale except for the dark smudges under her eyes. "Ron convinced me to leave you alone about it. He said that you wouldn't appreciate my interference and frankly I was— I didn't feel comfortable about bringing it up."

"But he's made me out to look like some drunken whoremonger!"

"You mean you really weren't drunk all those times you refused to come downstairs?" Hermione asked hopefully.

Harry ducked his head, blushing again. "Well, I was drunken at least. But I kept it to myself. I didn't go down into the village to— uh, ‘spread the joy' as it were. I was depressed and when I went with Ron to get pissed last summer it seemed to help so much, especially since my scar has been throbbing almost constantly since third task. When I drink it stops for awhile, and . . ."

He swallowed and looked up at Hermione earnestly. "I know it was awfully stupid of me to get drunk almost every night, but I‘ve only been at Hogwarts all year, I promise."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in thought and twisted one fuzzy brown curl around her finger. "So you say that you've not been to Hogsmeade in months and Ron says that you have. I can tell when you're lying and you aren't. And I stupidly assumed that Ron was telling the truth so I didn't bother thinking otherwise. What would he gain by all this?"

Harry didn't know, but at that moment he had the urge to punch his best friend right proper and it irked him because that was something he'd very rarely wanted to do before in all the years they had known each other. Sure, Ron annoyed him sometimes; all friends had their ups and downs. But never had he felt this— violence in his soul towards Ron.

The two sat together, thinking it over and saying very little. Harry ordered some tea to warm them and now swirled the grounds idly in the bottom of his cup while looking out the window. The sky was darkening with the invasion of twilight and it would be completely dark in less than an hour.

"We should head back to the Burrow soon or Mrs Weasley will be worried. Do you know where Ron went?"

Hermione shook her head. "I haven't the faintest, but I hope he stays away from me for the time being."

"Hermione, Christmas is the day after next and we'll be staying with the Weasley's for another week plus some odd days. As much as I'd rather not, we should really try to be civil at least. Hopefully, we can sort this out."

"Sort this out? Are you mad? What Ron has done goes beyond ‘sorting it out'! It's almost like he doesn't want us to be friends any— " Hermione broke off and her eyes went wide.

"What is it?" Harry asked, setting his cup down.

"He doesn't want us to be friends anymore. Harry, that's it," she whispered softly in a stunned sort of way.

Harry scoffed. "Don't be daft, of course he wants to be friends with us."

"No, you don't understand. He doesn't want us to be friends." Hermione had clamped her hands firmly onto the table and was leaning to the side towards Harry, her face very close. The fury in her eyes was almost palatable in the air and Harry was quite glad that it wasn‘t he who had roused her anger, but for some reason, he found that he could appreciate her current state. "He's jealous."

"Jealous?" That stumped Harry and he wasn't able to speak for a moment as understanding hit him. He was suddenly very aware of Hermione‘s face so close to his own, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her plump cheeks. Harry regained use of his vocal cords, but only just enough to croak out a continuance to his previous statement. "What does he have to be jealous of, anyway? It isn't as if we— well, you know, we're all just friends."

"I know. But think about it, Harry. You're Captain of the Quidditch team, and you were responsible for winning the Cup not only last year, but third year too. You were offered Head Boy as well, but you refused. You're rich, famous, and— " She glanced down, the tips of her ears turning red. "A-and easy on the eyes. It's enough to make most go mad with envy."

"But Hermione." Harry felt his face heat up again. "I never asked for any of those things! And being famous is horrible, Ron knows that. I thought he got over this in fourth-year."

"What if he didn't? What if he's just let it stew? I still remember what he told me about the Mirror of Erised, what he saw there. You have all of the things that he has dreamed about for so long."

"I'll give them up! I never wanted any of it; I just want my friend back. And he probably just wanted to make sure that he was never the third wheel or something; I don‘t think it was a matter of us not being friends."

Hermione shook her head, ignoring the last statement entirely. "It isn't as simple as all that, Harry. You're still you, and it's eating him up inside."

Harry sighed and ran a shaky hand through his already dishevelled hair, wincing as his fingers hit a snag. "Maybe I shouldn't stay at the Burrow this year. I'll go back to Hogwarts and— "

"No!" Hermione said, fiercely gripping his hand. "You'll go back to the Burrow. We'll have a lovely holiday. And Ron will get over this eventually."

"But Hermione— "

"No, we will go back to the Burrow. Everything will be fine."

"What if it isn't?"

"It will be," Hermione stated, a look of determination had set her eyes and Harry knew better than to argue when she was resolute to do something. He only hoped that she was right.

"We'd better go now, it's dark and Mrs Weasley won't be happy with us if it gets much later than it is." Harry looked down into his cup and noticed that the tea leaves had settled into a heart-shaped ring at the bottom. He continued to stare, willing it to go away until Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Harry, what are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Let's go." He rose and offered to take Crookshanks so Hermione could get up. She gasped in pain and doubled over, forcing Harry to drop the cat in order to keep her from falling. But she waved him away after a moment and stood straight again, clutching her side.

"I only moved too fast. Madame Pomfrey said that my ribs are still tender yet."

Harry frowned. "You shouldn't have left Hogwarts, Hermione. We could have stayed with you and had Christmas there."

"No, I'm really all right."

Harry raised his eyebrows and didn't comment further as he started to grab her trunk but then stopped. "When did you and Ron have that fight?"

"A few hours ago."

"Where?"

Hermione shrugged. "At the Leaky Cauldron, why?"

Harry gritted his teeth and steered the girl forward. Barely out of the Infirmary and she'd had to drag her trunk, small though it was, through most of Diagon Alley. Yet another thing to talk with Ron about. That was, if talking involved many recitations of ‘stupid git' and fists on the wing.

He wasn't paying attention to where he was going, and was surprised to find himself in front of the Leaky Cauldron so quickly.

"I hope Ron is back at the Burrow when we get there. Mrs Weasley will be upset otherwise." Hermione said, teeth chattering slightly from the cold as they entered the cavernous pub. Harry scanned the room, looking for Ron and frowning when he wasn't seen.

"I was hoping that Ron would be here, he has the Floo powder."

Hermione waved her hand at him, scoffing. "We can just pay for some to use here."

Harry shook his head. "Not here, Hermione. There's a shortage you know. Mr Weasley made sure to tell us that at least three times before we left the Burrow. They say that no more will be sold until after the new year and most people have run out already."

"Oh. Drat, Ron anyway! Why did he have to go off like that with our only way of getting home?"

"It isn't the only way, we'll just go back to Diagon Alley and hail the Knight Bus," Harry said decisively. But another patron, hearing of the dilemma, spoke up.

"Sorry, lad, but din't you ‘ere? Knight Bus is out o' commission for another fortnight at least."

"A fortnight!" exclaimed Hermione. "What happened to it?"

He only shrugged. "Don'na know rightly meself, summat about one o' the charms gone wonky and crashin' the bus."

"Sodding bus!" Harry swore softly before flinching and glancing down at Hermione, who wasn't paying attention to him anymore and was looking for an owl. He thanked the fellow and hurried over to where she was, dropping her trunk with a thud. This time, she did admonish him.

"Harry! Those are my things in that trunk."

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry sighed. "We should owl the Weasleys and ask for some more Floo powder."

"Poor Mrs Weasley is probably so worried right now. You told them that we'd be there before dark and it's starting to look like we'll never be back to the Burrow!" Hermione was wringing her hands over and over while Crookshanks perched on her shoulder, grooming himself. Harry however, did a double take at Hermione when she said the last word, and even Crookshanks seemed to pause.

"Come on," Harry said, turning her in his direction. "Let's go owl the Weasleys."

"Should we tell them that Ron is gone?"

"No, Mrs Weasley would be in a panic. We had better just hope he shows up before they send the Floo powder back. If not, we'll have to tell them in person."

"I'll write that it got wet from the snow and we can't use it. That way they won't know that Ron isn't with us."

"But what if he's there already?"

"Hermione, don't you think that Mr Weasley would have come looking for us if he had?"

"I suppose so," she sighed. "This really is rotten luck. Why is he acting this way?"

"I don't know the answer to that, Hermione. I only hope we can get it straightened out before hols are over."