The Seduction Of Doubt

“Malfoy?” Harry said.

“Malfoy.” Ron answered.

“Precisely.” Hermione said. “The thing is, he had the opportunity to grab ANY of our hair that day.”

“Actually, in my opinion, the THING would be ‘what the hell for?’” Harry said, fuming.

“Oh, Harry, isn’t it obvious?” She said, exasperated. “United we stand, divided we fall!” They looked at her, curiously. “I’ve never seen either of you act so illogical, so stupid about one another before. That’s not you, that’s not either of you, and I know it. What I’m wondering about is, why didn’t I get one too?” Ron gawked at her.

“You’ve got to be joking, Hermione. Don’t tell me you’re jealous because we got a present and you didn’t!” He said, astonished. Hermione shot him a look and he fell silent, looking sheepish.

“I’m bothered by it, yes. If he wanted to split up the entire group, I definitely should have had one. I figure they do something to the mind… maybe act the way alcohol does, impede judgement and so forth. But he knows better than anyone that if two of us three are fighting, the other one will do whatever he or she can to stop it. He should have known we’d figure it out.”

“Oh… right. I knew that.” Ron said, blushing. “You don’t have one then?”

“No, I’ve never seen those before.” She paused. “Unless… hell! I’ll be right back.” She left, then remembered the necklaces and returned. “There’s no way I’m leaving you two alone until I figure out how to control those things. Come with me.”

* * * * *

Hermione and the two boys ran all the way to the Gryffindor common room just as Parvati was leaving to go to breakfast – late as usual. “Parvati!” she yelled, panting for breath.

“Yes? What?” Parvati asked, amused by the sight of the three of them almost keeling over for lack of breath.

“Did… Ron… give you… something… for me?” Hermione stammered. Parvati nodded. Suddenly, their breath returned.

“What was it?” Harry asked.

“Where is it?” Ron demanded.

“I… don’t know what it was… I figured it was an anniversary gift or something.” She added, smiling a knowing smile at Hermione. She rolled her eyes as Parvati continued. “I left it on your bedside table, Herm, I don’t know why you didn’t… oh, bugger.” She said.

“What?” All three said in unison.

“I forgot to put it out for you, didn’t I? It’s in my drawer, then. Feel free to go in and take it, Herm. I’m really terribly sorry about all that.” Hermione grinned a victorious grin.

“It’s nothing, Parvati. If you’d given it to me… never mind. Thanks!” All three of them raced up the stairs towards the girl’s dormitory. Hermione slipped in quickly and within ten seconds returned with a small box, exactly like the one Harry and Ron had received.

“That’s it then.” She said. “That’s all three. Malfoy took yours and my hair during the fight, Ron. He was never close enough to Harry. Besides, it explains the way Parvati’s been acting that you gave this to me. Or whatever. Malfoy as you.” She paused, and shivered. “I just realized that Malfoy walked around wearing MY FACE. Your face. How…”

“Revolting.” Harry and Ron both said. Hermione nodded.

“But also… god, I feel violated.” She said, and sat down on one of the armchairs in front of the fire. She tucked her knees up to her chin and sighed. “I wonder if this is how Crabbe and Goyle would feel.”

“Hermione,” Harry said, coming to kneel next to her, “I don’t think Crabbe and Goyle put together have enough brain power to feel.” In spite of her dismay, she laughed along with her best friends.

“When’s your first class?” She asked.

“Well… we’ve got Divination in 20 minutes, but then we’re free for the afternoon.”

“Perfect. I’ve got Arithmancy at the same time.”

“Don’t remind me.” Muttered Ron, who still vividly remembered third year, when Hermione had literally taken Divination and Arithmancy at the same time using a temporal device called a Time-Turner. Hermione smiled, still a little embarrassed at her own overzealous nature that nearly drove her mad by the end of the year.

“We’ll meet at lunch, then. Give me those necklaces. You wear them under your cloaks, usually, so Malfoy won’t have any idea that you don’t have them on. Keep pretending you hate each other… I don’t know what the point of this whole thing is, but I don’t want Malfoy to give up until we understand all we need to.” Hermione opened the box and Ron and Harry both slipped the necklaces off their necks. Immediately, they felt their shoulders relax and their minds clear.

“It feels like I’ve just removed a ton of weight off my shoulders.” Ron observed.

“It really does. I’m so-” Harry started, but was cut off by Ron.

“Don’t even say it, Harry. You don’t need to. Forget it.” He said, and Harry grinned. Hermione made a small squeaking noise next to them and they both looked at her in exasperation.

“You’re not going to cry again, are you, Hermione?” Harry asked warily.

“You really are stupid, the both of you.” She said, wiping her eyes briefly. Then she gathered up her books, hugged them both tightly and left for Arithmancy.

“Absolutely bloody mental.” Ron said, watching her retreating figure.

* * * * *

Ron and Harry were sure to put on a good show in Divination. Professor Trelawney had demanded to separate them after the first ten minutes, when she insisted that the aura around them both was far too angry and tumultuous to be within close proximity. She had Ron switch seats with Neville, who timidly shrunk into his chair, remembering how Trelawney had made reference to Harry’s acidic energy. “I won’t burn you, Neville, it’s okay.” Harry said, reading over the Muggle newspaper Professor Trelawney had given them copies of, to show the possible ways to mis-predict a horoscope was.

“Oh… I… I know. I just…” Neville started, then stopped. Harry looked over at him and urged him to go on. “Well… I’ve never seen Ron and you so mad at one another. It’s unnerving. The whole class feels it.” Harry smiled.

“Well, maybe Professor Trelawney’s finally sensing something with that third eye of hers. It’ll work out, Neville. Don’t worry. And when it does, I’ll tell you.” Neville smiled and nodded, then went back to the Muggle horoscope.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s a ‘financial windfall’, exactly?” Harry sighed and explained it to Neville, finishing just as the bell rang. They all rose out of their seats with some difficulty – heavy armchairs can be something of a trial to stand up from – and meandered towards the door. Professor Trelawney called Harry and Ron back, however, and they stood, making sure to stay as far away from each other as possible.

“You’re both very lucky that was not a practical lesson today, boys. Your violent emotions and energy would have invaded everyone’s thoughts, making second sight a virtual impossibility. Even, I suspect, for someone as developed as myself.” Harry and Ron caught each others gaze, and though they put a look of anger on their faces there was a glint of laughter in their eyes. Professor Trelawney didn’t appear to notice. “So, I would ask that you sort this problem between the two of you out by next week’s class, or do not bother attending. I will not have my classes disrupted by petty squabbles.” They nodded and moved to leave. As Ron reached down for the trap door, Harry heard a familiar voice from behind him. “The tools are here.” Ron dropped the trap door handle and stood to look at the professor’s rigid body.

“What… is she okay?”

“She will be… this happened before, in third year. That prediction she made right before I met Sirius and you found out Scabbers was Pettigrew… Shhh.” Harry added, as the professor continued.

“The tools of the Dark Lord are here… they fly on shallow wings but they are hidden deep within… the messengers of Slytherin have taken root… their venom will infect if they are not set free… the Dark Lord’s powers rise… he will find you… he will destroy you…” With that last word, Professor Trelawney went slack again, and she seemed as though she had just woken from a catnap. “What? Oh, terribly sorry, boys. Off with you, now. Seems I’m a bit more tired than I’d expected.” Ron moved to mention the prophecy but Harry shook his head almost imperceptibly. They both exited the classroom.

“What did she mean, ‘the messengers of Slytherin’?” Ron said.

“I don’t know,” Harry responded, “but we can’t ask her. She won’t remember. And third year, she was pretty offended when I brought it up. One thing’s for sure… this isn’t just a Malfoy prank we’re dealing with. There’s something worse here. Something bigger.” He added grimly.

“Then…” Ron said, his eyes wide and fearful. “V-v… Voldemort?” he said, flinching. Harry looked amazed that he’d said it. “Well, he’s back now… I can’t keep ignoring that.” Harry smiled in spite of their concerns.

“Good for you, Ron… but yes, I think so. You know what else I think?”

“You think it’s time to go find Hermione and tell her.”

“Ah, how you know me!” Harry exclaimed, and they set off along the corridor to the dining hall.

* * * * *

“So this has something to do with You-know-who?” Hermione asked, concerned. She was sitting next to Ron, who had come into the dining hall first. Harry had entered a few minutes later, having waited outside the door, and sat in an empty seat between Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, discussing the last Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

“I think so… Harry said that Trelawney’s prediction was the same as that time two years ago, so I’m sure it’s real.” Hermione looked doubtful, but Ron pushed forward. “There’s something about those charms that didn’t seem like a simple spell, either. I doubt Malfoy could have gotten them on his own.”

“Well, he could have found them somewhere in Knockturn Alley, couldn’t he? I mean, we both know he frequents that part of London.” Hermione said, pausing to take a bite of sausage and mash.

“Yes, but Hermione, why would he have waited so long then?” Ron looked over at where Draco was sitting. He was watching Harry with a look of loathing written all over his face, but there was a confident air about him. Ron felt like retching. “Look at him. He thinks he knows exactly what he’s doing. I bet he’s waiting to see when you give up on the both of us.”

“That’s never going to happen.” She said immediately. “I’ll never give up on either of you. NEVER.” She took Ron’s hand and squeezed it again. “We’re going to need somewhere to meet where we can talk without being seen. You and Harry have to still be seen as fighting, by EVERYONE. You know how rumours fly here. Hannah Abbott was telling everyone that you had challenged Harry to a duel for my affections.” She laughed softly. “It’s working, Ron. It’ll all be over soon enough.”

“I hope so. Pretending to hate Harry… it feels almost as bad as hating him for real.” Ron looked back down at his plate and fell silent. Hermione thought hard for a place to meet in private.

“Ron, I know where to go!” She grabbed a piece of parchment and an ink-stained quill from her back. Scribbling a short note, she continued. “Take this up to the Owlery. Send it to Hagrid. He’ll be worried if he thinks you two are really fighting, and we can absolutely trust him.”

“But, Hermione…”

“Hmm?”

“Hagrid’s still not back yet. He and Madam Maxime haven’t returned from their... whatever it was they had to do.” Ron said.

“Even better. Take this anyway, and go right to Hagrid’s hut. I’ll tell Harry and we’ll meet you.” Ron nodded and got up to leave, shooting Harry an evil look before he went. Hermione watched him go, then got up and moved towards Harry. She put on a worried look and asked Dean if she could borrow Harry for a moment.

“I need to talk to you about Ron.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Harry said immediately, though his eyes twinkled knowingly.

“Harry, please. A few minutes.” She implored. Harry sighed and got up. They moved just far enough from the table so they could not be heard. “We’re going to meet in Hagrid’s hut. He’s not back yet, but I know he won’t mind. Besides, I think Fang could use a little extra company.” Harry nodded, then shook his head angrily and spoke loudly.

“I won’t apologize until HE does, Hermione. I never will.” And with that, he sat back down and gave Hermione a small, imperceptible wink. Hermione left the dining hall quietly, grinning as soon as she got beyond the doors. This was working.

* * * * *

This is working, Draco thought, as he watched the scene transpire in front of him. By the end of the day, the three most famous friends in all of Hogwarts would be at each other’s throats. He’d made his father proud; he knew it. And that was all that mattered, in the end. Wasn’t it? Draco ignored the painful feeling deep in the pit of his stomach and shook his head violently. Beside him, Crabbe gave him an odd look, but (not wanting to be distracted from his food for more than 30 seconds) soon returned to his meal. Draco had a mental flash of Ron and Harry both having hugged him when he delivered their gifts. He saw, in his mind, the affection and respect they all held for each other. You’re going mad, Draco, he thought to himself. A Mudblood. A Weasley. The boy who’d almost caused his father’s fall from power. He had every reason to hate all of them. Why, then, did this feel so wrong?