---

“Then GO!�* Harry bellowed.

His voice was strained, and his face was turning red. His eyes flashed behind the round lenses of his glasses. What had started as just another of the many arguments Ron had started recently was quickly turning into the worst row I had ever seen between Ron and Harry – between anyone.

“Go back to them!�* Harry’s voice cracked. “Pretend you’ve got over your spattergroit and Mummy’ll be able to feed you-“* Harry went on, but I didn’t hear what he said – I had turned to look at Ron.

Ron’s face was pale, the freckles standing out sharply, his features distorted with fury. His lips parted in a snarl and one hand flew toward his pocket. I realized what he was going to do a moment before he could do it. I raised my wand to save him from doing something I knew he would regret when he came back to his senses.

“Protego!� *

My arm trembled as I cast a shield charm to separate Ron from Harry and I. Emotions were swirling inside me – anger, hurt, frustration; I wasn’t surprised when the charm came out a little too strong.

I could feel tears building behind my eyes. Ron and Harry shouldn’t fight. They are best friends! Best friends don’t blast each other to smithereens!

“Leave the Horcrux,�* Harry said far too calmly. It was if he actually thought Ron would leave. But Ron couldn’t leave. We had all begun this together, hadn’t we? Surely Ron would calm down soon. He was wearing the Horcrux now. Surely, once he was no longer wearing it – surely he would calm down. Surely he would stay. This talk of leaving was a bluff. It must be.

But Harry was telling Ron to leave. Telling Ron that he didn’t want him to stay. How could Harry say that? They were best friends! The look on his face was one of hatred. I had seen that look before, but never directed at Ron. And, worse, Ron’s expression mirrored it.

It was as if I had stepped into a nightmare. Ron truly didn’t want to stay. Ron was going to leave. It wasn’t a bluff. But Ron can’t leave! I thought, confusedly. We have to help Harry! We promised him we would help him. The wizarding world is depending on us. Ron can’t leave. He can’t leave us. He can’t leave me. He can’t!

My thoughts were as tangled as the yarn I had once used to knit hats for house elves. Why were they even arguing? It didn’t make sense! Ron had always known that Harry cared for Ron’s family as if they were his own family. They were the only family he had ever known, after all. Why did Ron suddenly think that Harry didn’t care? He couldn’t think that. He knew it wasn’t true! Then why was Ron so determined to be angry? So determined to hate his best friend?

Ron yanked off the locket and tossed it into one of the comfortable little armchairs Perkins had filled his tent with. Then he looked at me.

“What are you doing?�* he snarled.

I swallowed. His blue eyes were scorching, unnatural. His face was so twisted with anger that he looked demented, unfamiliar… frightening.

“What do you mean?�* I half-whispered. The only thing I was doing at the moment was sustaining a shield charm, but that was obvious. Why would he ask?

“Are you staying, or what?�* he clarified, his voice a bark.

A sick feeling stole into my stomach. He was asking if I was coming with him. But he couldn’t leave. You can’t leave!

“I…�*

How could I go with him? The world was dangerous, especially for us. If we suddenly appeared in the wizarding world, did he think they would let us go back to our lives as if nothing had happened? And, anyway, life would never be as it had been. Snape was Headmaster; Death Eaters had taken over the school. Muggleborns were being registered and taken to Azkaban.

If I stayed with Harry we could do something about it. Once we tracked down and destroyed the Horcruxes, Voldemort could be defeated and life could be sane again.

But – Ron was leaving! Leaving us – leaving me! He couldn’t leave me. I needed him. So, should I go with him? Could I?

It felt as if I were being torn in two. Stay with my friend and save the world? Or go with my love and live in terror? And I had promised Harry I would help him!

In the end, my sense of duty and loyalty won, though my heart ached at my choice. Why was Ron making me choose? Why was he leaving? He couldn’t leave!

“Yes – yes, I’m staying,�* I managed to say. My heart was being squeezed, constricted; it was like it was apperating somewhere without me. He was glaring at me. Words rushed from me as I tried to explain my choice. “Ron, we said we’d go with Harry, we said we’d help – “*

Ron interrupted.

“I get it.�* His eyes drilled into my face, full of anger and pain. “You choose him,�* he spat.

What was he saying? You choose him. Yes, I chose Harry, but I wasn’t choosing Harry for himself. I was choosing Harry because it was the right thing! Because Harry needed help and we had promised to help him. Because the world had become a dark place and only we knew how to put it right. This was a far more complicated matter than choosing one boy or the other. But – my mind froze.

Did Ron think that that was what I was choosing? Did he think I was choosing Harry because – Did he think I was in love with… Harry? This must be the reason that Ron is so determined to hate Harry now! Ron thought that I love Harry! He’s jealous! But then, I realized in horror, my answer just now must have confirmed all of his darkest suspicions!

Haven’t you understood the years of hints I’ve been throwing at you? I screamed at him in my head. A tear spilled over onto my cheek. Can you really think –? Do you really believe that –?

Yes. I could see it in his eyes. He did believe it. My heart was no longer apperating, it was being torn out of my chest – like the heart of the maiden from one of the stories in the Tales of Beadle the Bard. The man she loved had torn out her heart because his own had become shriveled and savage.

This was just too bizarre. Ron thinks I’m in love with Harry. Ron –

Ron had turned. Ron was walking toward the tent entrance, walking away with the heart he had torn out of my chest. Ron – Ron is leaving! I – He – He can’t leave, I –

“Ron, no – please – come back, come back!�* I pleaded, running after him. Time seemed to have slowed. I was running towards him but he was still getting farther and farther away, pulling back the flap, walking out into the night –

I was so confused, so upset, I had forgotten about my shield charm. Realizing that that was what was slowing me, I extinguished the shield with a swipe of my wand and hurried toward the tent entrance. I had to stop Ron. I have to stop Ron. I have to explain. Ron can’t go. Ron can’t leave me. Ron can’t leave –

I swept aside the tent flap, expecting to find Ron standing there. I couldn’t see him. Where is Ron? He must be here. He can’t have gone. The freezing rain pounded on my head, soaking me as I ran between the trees, looking for Ron. Ron, where are you? Ron! Ron wasn’t here. But he had to be! He couldn’t leave me!

“Ron! Ron! Please, Ron! Where are you? Ron!� My voice was distorted with tears; Ron wouldn’t understand me if I kept crying. I had to stop crying. But I couldn’t stop crying. Because Ron wasn’t here. It was a nightmare that I couldn’t escape.

I kept crying, and calling Ron’s name, and running from tree to tree, irrationally hoping to find him hiding behind one of them like a child playing hide and seek, until I could hardly breathe from the pain in my chest. I sank to my knees and let the sobs I had been repressing out as I faced the truth. Ron was gone. Ron had left us. Ron had left me. He had torn my heart out and abandoned me to try and survive without it… Without him.

Stubbornly, I shook my head in denial and lurched to my feet. He had to be here somewhere. He couldn’t have left!

After what felt like hours of staggering about and clutching at my jacket with numb fingers, I was forced to admit that he really was gone. Running around in the pouring rain wouldn’t help bring him back, and would only get me sick. I turned back, my stomach so twisted I was amazed I hadn’t retched, and stumbled toward the patch of light that I knew to be the tent. When I threw back the flap, Harry was standing just where I had left him. He looked like he had aged ten years since I had left.

“He’s g-g-gone!�* I stuttered, my teeth chattering, my clothes dripping onto the rug. “Disapperated!�*

Saying the words aloud made them twice as true, made them hurt twice as much. I collapsed into the nearest armchair, weeping, trying to hold in the pain coming from the place in my chest where my heart had once been. Ron was gone. He was gone. Harry was rustling around, doing something on the other side of the tent, but I didn’t care. He could do what he liked. Ron was gone. Ron had left me. A blanket was suddenly draped over my shoulders. I knew that I should thank Harry, but I couldn’t stop crying. Ron had ripped out my heart. The tears wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. The tears were stealing the air from my lungs, stealing the energy from my limbs.

Finally, when my head had begun to feel light and my sobs had become silent from lack of oxygen, I forced myself to drag in a breath.

And the tears rushed back, coming harder and faster than before. The blanket Harry had thrown over me must be – no, it must have been, I corrected myself, hysterically – Ron’s. The smell of him, warm and familiar, made me miss him even more. Made me miss the real him. Not the demon he had been – the demon that the Horcrux had transformed him into in the hours before he had gone.

Memories streamed through my mind. Memories of Ron. His red hair, freckles, and disarming blue eyes reappeared a hundred times from a thousand different angles. Ron defending me after Snape had taken points from me for being ‘an insufferable know-it-all.’ Ron allowing himself to be taken in the frightful game of life sized chess. Ron, his eyes wide, as a flock of little birds I had conjured zoomed toward him. Ron, late at night, telling me that he loved me when I agreed to look over his homework. Ron calling S.P.E.W. spew. Ron belching up slugs because his wand had backfired when he had tried to curse Malfoy for calling me Mudblood. Ron kissing Lavender Brown. Ron asking me to the Yule Ball. Ron. Ron. Ron.

I cried until no more tears would come and then I kept crying. I cried until I felt my soul would leak out to replace the tears. I pulled his blanket closer around me, breathing in Ron’s scent, full of contradictory emotions.

I wanted him back. I was glad that he was gone. I wished he would reappear. I hated him for stealing my heart. I loved him. He was sweet and protective. He was Ron! I loathed him. He was stubborn and pig headed. He was Ron.

When I woke up, hardly an hour later, it was morning, and I was sore all over. Ron’s blanket, stiff with salt tears, was crumpled under my head like a pillow. I stared at the wall of the tent, listening to Harry’s breathing and missing the deeper sound of Ron’s breaths.

I got up and walked slowly into the kitchen to make breakfast, as I had been doing every morning for months. Only today I will be cooking for two rather than three. My sore legs became unsteady beneath me and I wobbled at the thought. Shaking my head, I forced myself to stand up straight. Harry needed me. Harry was the reason I had stayed, the reason I had let Ron walk out with my heart. I had to be strong for Harry.

I pulled out a pan and put it on the oven, turned on the heat, retrieved some unidentifiable foodstuff out of a cabinet and set to work cooking it. Soon, I heard Harry getting out of bed. I didn’t know if I could face him yet. I was embarrassed. I had never cried so much in front of him before. I had never cried so much in front of anyone before. I stared determinedly at the pan I was standing over as he passed the kitchen on the way to the bathroom.

When he emerged a few minutes later I was just putting two plates of food on the table. He pulled out his usual chair and sat down, and I did the same. I picked at the whatever-it-was I had cooked and stared at the chair Ron would usually have occupied, a new thought occurring to me. Ron might still come back. Maybe he had just needed to spend a night thinking it over. Maybe he would walk in any minute. Hope swelled in my chest. Maybe, in just a moment, he would pull back the tent flap, his freckled face apologetic and chagrined, and he would come in and tell me how sorry he was that he had left me. He would say that he had changed his mind, that he was ready to keep going, that he’d never leave me again.

These fantasies kept me distracted as we ate, while we did the dishes, when we were packing up. I put my things away as slowly as I could, knowing that, with all the enchantments we put up every time we moved, Ron would never be able to find us once we disapperated to a different place. I thought I heard the sounds of him coming in from the rain a thousand times, and a thousand times I was disappointed. If I hadn’t already decided that he had ripped out my heart and taken it away with him, I would have thought that it was being broken over and over again.

When I had spun out the time of departure for more than an hour, I knew I had to give up. There was absolutely nothing else I could do to stall for time. Harry was waiting.

Resolutely hanging my beaded bag over my shoulder after having checked it twice more than necessary, I marched over to Harry and held out my hand. He took it, and, together, we disapperated to a hillside where the wind swept my hair into my face, happily concealing the tears that were once more welling in my eyes. I walked hurriedly away from Harry, determined not to let him see me cry this time. Sitting down on a rock, I wrapped my arms around my legs and, setting my forehead on my knees, I let the tears fall. Ron had left. We had left. I might never see Ron again. He was the only man I had ever loved. And perhaps the only man who could ever have loved me.

.......................
There was a crackling sound like the breaking of a twig and I jumped, my head snapping up to study the white curtain of snow falling around the tent. Hope and fear tangled in my stomach. The hope was defeated after only a minutes struggle. He wasn’t coming back. If it was a someone and not a something moving around out there, it couldn’t be him. It would be a Death Eater or someone just as unpleasant. The movements I had been catching at the corner of my eye had to be an animal. If it was a Death Eater, we would know it by now.

I looked back down at A History of Magic, trying to concentrate on it, rather than the tingle running across my skin, the chill running up my spine- the sensation that we were not alone. “Wileburt the Wild was an excellent speaker, according to a journal entry by Marian Goodby of Willowshead Marsh. Within a month of his emancipation from Azkaban he had riled his fellow Goblins into-“

Harry cleared his throat. He was standing behind me in the tent. I jumped.

“The snow still hasn’t stopped?� he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“No. And it doesn’t show any sign of slowing down.�

“You think we should move on now, rather than waiting til morning? It’ll probably be above our knees by then.�

I nodded. Carefully, I marked my place in A History of Magic, closed it and retreated inside. I grabbed the first sweatshirt I laid eyes on.

“We’ll go somewhere more sheltered,�* I mumbled, pulling the sweater over my head. It was maroon: one of his old sweaters. It was a little too big for me, but it was warm. The majority of my sweaters were in the wash.

“I kept thinking I could hear people moving outside. I even thought I saw somebody once or twice,�* I continued. Harry, who was pulling on a sweater too, stopped and looked at the top-like Sneakoscope on the table. I didn’t bother. I had looked at it myself as soon as I had come in. It made me uneasy, how still it was. What if it was unreliable and there really was a Death Eater out there waiting to ambush us?

“I’m sure I just imagined it,�* I said. I was sure, wasn’t I? Where had all my reasoned arguments for it being some small animal gone? “The snow in the dark, it plays tricks on your eyes… But perhaps we ought to Disapperate under the Invisibility Cloak, just in case?�*

Harry agreed, and so, a very short time later, we were pulling off the Invisibility Cloak and setting up camp in the Forest of Dean. It was terribly cold here too. The snow lay like a thick white carpet over everything, but at least it wasn’t still falling here.

I fumbled through the cabinets for a bowl. Harry was sitting, his arms around his knees, on the floor, shivering. I had felt very responsible for Harry’s well-being ever since I had accidently broken his wand. Quickly, I directed my wand into the bowl and performed the bluebell flame charm. Holding the bowl full of flames I went back to Harry and put it on the floor beside him. Harry thrust his hands right up to the flames, eager to be warm. I sat down next to him and extended my own hands. We sat like this for most of the afternoon, saying little, entirely consumed in our own thoughts.

A certain tall, redheaded young man being the main subject of mine.

I hadn’t been sleeping well since that certain tall redhead had left us, so I decided to go to bed early in the hopes of getting the amount of sleep most untroubled people get. I made sure Harry was well set up in the tent doorway, changed into pajamas and climbed into my bunk.

I lay there for what felt like a very long time before drifting into dreams.

His blue eyes were glaring at me again. “Are you coming with me?� The words echoed and bounced around my head. “Are you coming with me?� Over and over and over again he said it, inflecting each word, yelling it, whispering it, his voice a hoarse roar or a pleading cry. Each time he asked I shook my head.

“No.�

No, no, no, echoed my voice. Then he was gone again.

I awoke with a shudder and clawed at my pillow, squirmed under the blanket, and curled myself into a ball.

The next moment I was dreaming again. I dreamed I was laying on my bed in the tent, waiting like Sleeping Beauty for my red-haired prince charming. I heard the rustle of the tent flap as Harry came in. Oh no, I thought, it’s another dream about it being my turn to keep watch.

“Hermione,� Harry called.

But this time I wasn’t going to answer. It was my dream after all. I could change the outcome, couldn’t I?

“Hermione.�

Harry sounded much louder than he usually did in my dreams.

“Hermione!�*

Harry’s voice was much too urgent. Perhaps this was not a dream after all. I twisted under my blankets and sat up quickly, alarmed at the tone of Harry’s voice.

“What’s wrong? Harry? Are you all right?�* I asked, trying to sound alert and awake, ready for anything.

“It’s okay,�* Harry said. Why had he sounded so urgent then? Maybe I had been right in the beginning and this really was a dream. “Everything’s fine. More than fine. I’m great. There’s someone here.�*

This really must be a dream. There was no way anyone could find us here, and Harry would not be happy about it if they had.

“What do you mean?�* I asked foggily. “Who-?�*

Then I saw him. Tall, red-haired, and handsome, with blue eyes and a pale freckled face, holding the sword of Gryffindor and dripping water on the rug: Ron Weasley. I had only said his name once since he had left, and had only allowed myself to think his name a few times in the time between now and then. And now he was standing there, holding the sword we had gone to Godric’s Hollow hoping to find.

This was most definitely a dream. Ronald was probably going to pull out Harry’s wand, good as new, any moment.

I stared at him as I pulled myself out of bed and began to walk forward. Strange, I thought, how lifelike this dream feels. Usually it wasn’t so easy to move in dreams. When I was standing close enough to count the freckles on the Dream-Ron’s face, I stopped. Suddenly, I was unsure of whether this really was a dream. I had never been able to count his freckles in all the other dreams I had ever had of him. He was always too far away.

Ron half smiled and raised his arms, as if to give me a hug.

I snapped.

I didn’t care if this was a dream or not. If I was near enough to count his freckles then I was near enough to-

“Ouch- ow- gerroff! What the- ? Hermione- OW!�* Ron yelped. My fists were flying, trying to reach every inch of him they could find. So the stupid git thinks he can just come waltzing back after leaving for so long?

I was yelling something- I wasn’t sure what I was saying. So the idiot thought I’d just fling myself into his arms whenever he deigned to return?

“-oh, where’s my wand?�* I heard myself shriek. I wanted to curse him. Rip a hole in his chest to match the one he had ripped in mine. I looked around to see where Harry had gotten to- he had my wand, I remembered now.

He was holding it in front of him. Before I could demand he return it, or seize it from him, he yelled a spell and the same shield charm I had used to separate him and I from Ron- so long ago it seemed- was now separating me from both of them. The force of the charm, and my own lightheadedness caused me to topple over onto the floor, my hair all over my face.

Spitting the hair out of my mouth I leapt up, angrier than I had ever been in my life.

“Hermione! Calm-“* began Harry.

“I will not calm down!� I shrieked. “Give me back my wand! Give it back to me!�* I couldn’t believe him. I had given the last several months of my life to helping him, the last several years really, and now he would not even give me my wand so I could perform a well justified murder. The nerve of him!

“Hermione, will you please-“* he started again.

“Don’t you tell me what to do, Harry Potter! Don’t you dare!�* I screeched.

I had never spoken to Harry like this in all the time we had been friends. I had wanted to a few times when he was yelling at us, but I had never let myself go on him until now. The idiot was defending Ron, defending the man who had ripped out my heart. I had thought Harry was my friend. I thought he would side with me. Ron had abandoned him too after all. And now he had my wand, which I had loaned him, and he wouldn’t give it back!

“Give it back now!�* I screamed at him again. He just looked grimly down at me from the other side of the shield charm. He seemed determined to keep it from me.

So I turned toward the other person I was upset with- the only person I was really upset with.

“And YOU!�*

My arm raised to point at Ron. Having no wand I pointed a finger at him. He had destroyed whatever life I had had for more then a month. He had been gone for ages. He had left us to almost die in Godric’s Hollow. He had ripped out my heart.

“I came running after you!�* I hissed, my voice deadly quiet. “I called you! I begged you to come back!�* Even as I said the venomous words I could feel the hurt that had spawned my anger surging to the surface, pricking my eyes with mutinous tears.

“I know,�* Ron said. His face was white as a sheet, his voice remorseful.

“Hermione, I’m sorry, I’m really-“*

“Oh, you’re sorry!�* I screamed, interrupting him. A wild hysterical laugh broke from me, I didn’t know why. So he was sorry, was he? Sorry wasn’t going to make up for weeks alone, my heart ripped out, Godric’s Hollow, Harry’s wand. Sorry wasn’t enough.

“You come back after weeks- weeks- and you think it’s all going to be all right if you just say sorry?�* I yelled. My voice was becoming hoarse. I wasn’t sure exactly when I had figured it out but I knew now that this was not a dream. Everything was too real. You don’t get hoarse throats in dreams.

Ron’s face was turning pink.

“Well, what else can I say?�* he yelled.

Insanely pleased with myself for thinking of it, I pulled out an insult I knew was below the belt.

“Oh, I don’t know! Rack your brains, Ron, that should only take couple of seconds-“* I seethed.

Now Harry interrupted me, his tone part bemused, part desperate. “Hermione, he just saved my-“*

“I don’t care!�*

I didn’t. Ron had ripped out my heart, abandoned me. Anything he had done for Harry might redeem him in Harry’s eyes, but not in mine.

“I don’t care what he’s done!�* I repeated. “Weeks and weeks, we could have been dead for all he knew-“*

“I knew you weren’t dead!�* Ron roared so loudly it scared my voice back down my throat. He stepped forward. He was as close to me as he could be with Harry’s charm between us. Close enough that had the shield not been there his nose would almost have been touching mine. His blue eyes were searching mine, staring, hurt and angry.

“Harry’s all over the Prophet, all over the radio,�* he continued, his voice only a little louder than usual. “They’re looking for you everywhere, all these rumors and mental stories,�* his voice shook, and I wondered momentarily what those stories had been about, but his next words drove me into a new frenzy of anger. “I knew I’d hear straight off if you were dead, you don’t know what it’s been like-“*

“What it’s been like for you?�* I shrieked, my anger was so overwhelming I could not find any more words to express it. I expected Ron to be thrown backward by my fury but he surprised me by holding his ground.

“I wanted to come back the minute I’d Disapparated,�* than why in the world didn’t you, Ronald? I thought exasperatedly, �but I walked straight into a gang of Snatchers, Hermione, and I couldn’t go anywhere!�*

My anger wobbled as he kicked out one of the legs it had been built on. Unbalanced and flustered I stepped away from him and threw myself into a chair, where I glared at him and tried to think of a new attack.

Harry asked what Ron had walked into and Ron looked away from me to answer him.

“Snatchers. They’re everywhere- gangs trying to earn gold by rounding up Muggle-borns and blood traitors, there’s a reward from the Ministry for everyone captured. I was on my own and I look like I might be school age; they got really excited, thought I was a Muggle-born in hiding. I had to talk fast to get out of being dragged to the Ministry.�*

Oh, so you had to think fast- they must have had you for several hours then! I thought viciously, missing Harry’s next question, and half of Ron’s answer.

“-Stan Shunpike. First person I could think of.�*

“And they believed that?�*

“They weren’t the brightest. One of them was definitely part troll, the smell off him…�*

How extremely funny, I thought sarcastically. Ron glanced at me to see my reaction and I made sure to keep my face entirely still. Ron gulped and continued.

“Anyway, they had a row about whether I was Stan or not. It was a bit pathetic to be honest, but there were still five of them and only one of me and they’d taken my wand. Then two of them got into a fight and while the others were distracted I managed to hit the one holding me in the stomach, grabbed his wand, Disarmed the bloke holding mine, and Disapparated. I didn’t do so well, Splinched myself again,�* Ron showed us a hand with two missing nails.

How disappointing. I had hoped he might have lost more.

I raised my eyebrows and glared at him to let him know I was not impressed as he continued. “-and I came out miles from where you were. By the time I got back to that bit of riverbank where we’d been… you’d gone.�*

Pathetic.

“Gosh, what a gripping story. You must have been simply terrified,�* I said in a mock-sincere voice. “Meanwhile we went to Godric’s Hollow and, let’s think, what happened there, Harry? Oh yes, You-Know-Who’s snake turned up, it nearly killed both of us, and then You-Know-Who himself arrived and missed us by about a second.�*

Ron looked like he’d been hit in the stomach. I was grimly pleased by this.

“What?�*

He stared at me then Harry, then me again.

“Imagine losing fingernails, Harry! That really puts our sufferings into perspective,�* I cooed, still faking sympathy.

“Hermione, Ron just saved my life,�* Harry said from his place by the wall of the tent. I ignored him. My rational sense was beginning to return to me, and I had just thought of a vitally important question. A question that rather embarrassed me however, because it suggested my magic had not been good enough.

How did Ron, a mediocre wizard, I thought savagely, find us? The enchantments I decided on, the ones we use every time we put up the tent, should make us absolutely impossible to find.

I stared at the ceiling of the tent above Ron’s head to keep my face from flushing as I asked as cordially as I could, “One thing I would like to know, though. How exactly did you find us tonight? That’s important. Once we know, we’ll be able to make sure we’re not visited by anyone else we don’t want to see.�* I put a delicate emphasis on the word else. Let him know his visit was unwanted.

Ron was silent for a moment then I saw him, out of my peripheral vision, reach into his pocket and pull out something.

“This,�* he said flatly.

I glanced at the object in his hand and my anger all but disappeared in curiosity and wonder. It was the object Dumbledore had left for Ron in his will: the Delu-

“The Deluminator?�* I asked before I could stop myself.

And with that Ron was off explaining the bizarre story of how he had found us. I discovered I couldn’t sustain my murderous fury at him when I was so interested in what he had to say. I had not forgiven Ronald, but it was of no use to remain in such a temper, and I was sure it was unhealthy.

When I went back to bed a few hours later my thoughts were focused on the certain red-head who had been reinstated in one of the nearby bunks.

I could hear him now, he and Harry were talking quietly on the other side of the tent.

"-best you could hope for, I think,"* Harry was saying.

"Yeah. Could've been worse. Remember those birds she set on me?"* Ron whispered back.

I smiled into my pillow.

"I still haven't ruled it out,�* I called.

There was a pause and then I could hear the rustle of two boys getting ready for bed.

I would give Ron one more chance. If he ruined it, he would not get another. And until he proves himself one way or the other, I thought, I suppose I will have to keep my wrath in check… If I can.

I smiled, rolled onto my side and went to back to sleep.

………………………………………………
I lay on the cold stone floor, every inch of my body seemingly on fire.

The pain was too much. I was dying. I felt as if my muscles had been filled with needles and then I had been repeatedly slammed into a wall. My energy was almost entirely gone. It was all I could do was to force myself to keep breathing.

I lay at the feet of my captor, my torturer- my personal demon, it seemed- trying to survive. My momentary hiatus from torment could not last much longer. As painful a mass as my body was at the moment, it was nothing compared to what it had been seconds before, when the deranged woman standing over me had actually been pointing her wand at me.

Now I could hear her questions directed at another, smaller personage. She was trying to confirm the story I had told her. Trying to make sure that the Sword of Gryffindor, the sword they had confiscated, was really only a copy. Please, please, tell her it is true! I screamed inside my head. The Goblin had to- you have to- you must- don’t say it- my thoughts were becoming incoherent. It was too much work to think. I needed my energy to fend off the pain.

“It’s a fake.�*

The reedy, nasally voice of the Goblin vibrated in my head. Yes! Yes! I almost sobbed with relief, but it would be too painful and take too much effort so I didn’t.

“Are you sure? Quite sure?�*

This low female voice made me cringe. It was a voice I would never forget. The voice of the demon, Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Yes,� *said the Goblin.

“Good,� *said the insane woman, and with a thud and a cry of pain, Griphook fell beside me. There was a muffled groan as Bellatrix kicked him out of her way.

“And now, we call the Dark Lord!�* she crowed.

No! She couldn’t! He would- Harry- No!

I had to do something. If I didn’t we would all die! I had to do something! Ron, Harry- they were in the basement- they couldn’t do anything. It was up to me. I had to save them. I had to save us all. I must! Oh, but the pain was so intense!

Bellatrix was speaking again, I could see her looking at someone across the room, her mouth moving, but I was concentrating more than I ever had in my life on forcing my body to do what I wanted. My muscles trembled as I visualized myself jumping to my feet, grabbing the wand from Bellatrix Lestrange and stunning her and whoever it was she was talking to- whoever else was in the room. I gritted my teeth. Come on, Hermione! I growled at myself inside my head. Come on! And with a small jerk, I made to stand up.

My body couldn’t take it. I hadn’t raised myself more than a few inches before I fell back to the floor and everything started to go black. A dark thought rose from the depths of my mind. Now we will all die because of me. Because I’m too weak.

As I sank hopelessly into unconsciousness, my mind conjured one last vision of hope for me: a tall redheaded man, his freckled face furious, charging through the door, wand in hand… Ron…

…

I was falling through blackness. Falling… falling… There was a rattling noise and a scream and I hit the floor with a thump. Half a second later I realized I was conscious again, and everything was black because my eyes were closed. Immediately after I discovered I was conscious I wished I wasn’t. I was still very sore, still on fire.

Then there was an enormous crash and suddenly I was being ground into the polished black marble beneath me by something heavy with many sharp points digging into my back. There was a yell, and I felt the vibrations of running feet beneath me.

The weight on my back shifted and a pair of hands seized me by the shoulders and pulled me out from under it, whatever it was, then flipped me onto my back. I could hear elsewhere in the room the sounds of more voices shouting, one of which sounded like Harry. But from right above my head came the voice I was most desperate to hear, the only voice I cared to hear.

“Hermione?� Ron whispered.

Perhaps I was dreaming. How could Ron and Harry have gotten out of the basement? They didn’t have wands…

I could feel his fingers press at my throat, checking my pulse. The voices behind him were getting louder and angrier and now there was a new voice, squeaky and defiant. I didn’t want to listen to any of them. Ron was speaking to me again.

“Hermione?� His voice was strained, he sounded upset.

I forced my eyelids to open a crack. He was leaning over me, his forehead crumpled with worry, his blue eyes wide with fear.

“Ron?� My voice came out as a whimper, the merest breath of sound.

His face filled with relief. Suddenly he moved, and now I was being swung through the air in his arms, my head resting against his shoulder. He stood up and I reached out a weak hand to grab at his sweater.

His eyes raised from my face to look at the other people in the room. His mouth twisted in a snarl.

“Ron, catch- and GO!�* I heard Harry yell and then I felt Ron lunge forward, catch whatever it was Harry had tossed and then twist sideways.

Suddenly we were being compressed, squeezed and flattened. I couldn’t breathe. Every inch of my aching body was being dragged through a tiny rubber tube, stretched to the limit. Apparating… I thought dazedly. He was apparating us to safety.

And then the world righted itself and I could smell the ocean on the breeze. Ron set off at a run, yelling.

“Bill! Bill! Fleur! Help!�

His breathing became ragged as he started running uphill. Each step made me bounce against his arms and sent a new wave of pain through me, but that didn’t matter. I was more focused on Ron’s breathing. I didn’t like the wheezing sound he was making- how hard had those Snatchers hit him?

“Ron, put me down, I can walk,� I groaned.

I reached up and touched his face with one sore hand. His lip had been split by the Snatchers when they had caught us and there was dried blood on his chin. His jaw looked swollen and was just starting to bruise.

His expression was one of worry, determination, and anger. Looking into his face brought me out of the stupor the pain had driven me into. Suddenly I was able to think again, and interesting thoughts they were.

Ron saved me. We’re safe. We have another chance to beat Voldemort. We got away. Ron just saved my life… I seemed to remember Harry saying something like that weeks ago on the snowy night when Ron had returned. We won’t die after all…

My eyes filled with tears as I realized how close we had all come to death.

“Oh, Ron,� I sobbed, digging my face into his chest. I felt too weak to do anything else. I felt Ron’s running slow to a walk and I could hear Bill’s voice, loud in the night, exclaiming over me, then, inexplicably, Luna’s voice, asking if I was alright.

I tried to concentrate but quite as suddenly as the stupor had lifted, exhaustion had taken its place.

I must be dreaming, I reflected drowsily. Luna was taken by… someone…Death Eaters, wasn’t it…? How could she be… wherever we are?

After a moment my weary brain decided it didn’t matter for now. All I needed to know now was that we were safe: Ron had come to the rescue.

It didn’t matter that he had left us. It was just a black mark on his grades. It wasn’t important now. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t there in Godric’s Hollow. He was there for me now. He hadn’t left when I needed him most.

Ron was cradling me to his chest, speaking in a quiet voice to Bill, or perhaps Luna…? He was saying something to someone. I could feel the rumble of his voice and the steady beating of his heart through the cheek I had pressed against his chest. It was a comforting sound…

I was just starting to drift into sleep when there was a burst of French above my ear. I started and peeled back the lids of my eyes to see Fleur standing over me, her hands on her hips.

“-‘ere Ron, put ‘er down ‘ere. I weel take care of ‘er,� she was saying.

“I don’t want to wake her up,� Ron whispered angrily.

“Too late,� I whispered, blinking blearily up at him.

Ron looked down at me in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-� he started, his face apologetic.

“’S all right,� I mumbled.

Ron shifted, bent and cautiously set me down on something comfortable, a bed. Fleur immediately started covering me with blankets while Ron straightened, looking at me. Finally Fleur stood back and crossed her arms. Ron glanced at her than bent over me again.

“Get some sleep, Hermione. I’ll be back in a while.�

He carefully wrapped his arms around me for a hug then stood up and walked away.

I gazed after him through tired eyes. Ron saved me.

Fleur started rustling around and clucking like a mother hen.

I closed my eyes.

Ron rescued… me… I thought wearily, and then… I fell asleep.

………………………………………………..
I watched Harry disappear into a corner cupboard and up the stairs inside it, Luna on his heels.

I felt so useless.

Ravenclaw’s lost diadem? It’s been lost for centuries! How could Voldemort have found it and made it a Horcrux? Even if he did, how will Harry find it without us? I turned to Ron. His freckled face was thoughtful, and he was still looking at the cupboard Harry had vanished through.

“Ron,� I said quietly. I didn’t want all the highly interested students around us to hear what I had to say.

“Ron!�

Ron jumped and turned to look at me. “What?�

“This feels so pointless. Even if it is the diadem and Harry finds it, we still have to get rid of it, and without the sword we have no way to do it. And we still have this one!� I shook my beaded bag, in which I had stowed Hufflepuff’s cup just before we had apparated to Hogsmeade and this whole escapade had started.

Ron’s eyebrows drew together in concentration.

“I know,� he murmured. “I’ve been thinking about that, too.�

He glanced around, then back at me.

“That sword was able to destroy Horcruxes because it was covered in basilisk venom, right?�

“Yes, it was. But, Ron, we don’t have-�

“I know we don’t have it, Hermione! I was just thinking, the venom -by itself- it would still destroy the-“ he glanced around again. Several people turned to look in other directions in a hurry. Ron glared at them. Ginny, seeing his angry expression, hurried over and began shooing people away from us. On the other side of the room, Neville seemed to be rallying the students. I could hear his voice shouting over the buzz of noise around us.

Ron turned back to me, lowered his voice even more and continued, “It would still destroy the you-know-what, right?�

I still couldn’t see where he was heading. “Yes, but we-“

“We don’t have any venom, I know, Hermione! But we could go get some.�

“What-? Go get some? Ron, I don’t think they keep supplies of Basilisk venom in with the Mrs. Scower’s Mess Remover in the broom closets here! When that sword got covered in venom it was because Harry used it against the basilisk in- in the… oh.�

I understood now. My stomach did a back flip.

“In the Chamber of Secrets, yeah,� finished Ron. Most of the people in the room were gathered around Neville now. He had become a much more confident speaker since I had seen him last I noticed absently.

“You mean,� I said at last. “You mean go into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and down to- oh, Ron! You’re a genius! We- should we go right now do you think? Or should we wait for Harry?�

“Harry might be awhile, and we’re in a hurry, right? It’s only a matter of time ‘til- ‘til V-Voldemort gets here and-“

I stared at him. As far as I knew, as long as I could remember, Ron had never said Voldemort’s name aloud. I felt something like a golden bubble swell up inside me, and I grabbed his hand.

“Come on!�

I turned and, pulling Ron, ran to the cupboard I had watched Harry leave through minutes ago. There were shouts from the people around us, asking where we were going but I ignored them. Then Ron pulled me to a stop at the threshold of the cupboard.

“Has anyone got a broom?�he asked the room at large. At the back of the crowd Cho Chang had turned around, looking interested. After a moment she nodded and ran to one of the hammocks hanging from the ceiling. A moment later she returned holding a broomstick.

“Thanks,� Ron said to her breathlessly, taking the outstrectched handle, then turned to me. Yanking the cupboard open, I ducked inside and ran up the stairs two at a time, Ron right behind me.

After several twists and turns in the torch-lit stairway we finally arrived at what appeared to be a solid stone wall. I turned to Ron who put a finger to his lips then reached passed me and touched the wall. It disappeared at his touch. Hesitantly, I inched forward until my head was sticking out into the shadow-filled corridor beyond. I recognized a painting on the wall opposite- an old man who was usually scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment, now asleep.

“Fifth floor,� I whispered, and I heard Ron give a small sound of agreement.

Carefully, my wand out and ready, I edged forward into the corridor. Ron, his wand in one hand, Cho’s broom in the other, crept out after me. Immediately, the wall reappeared behind him, solid stone again. He put a finger to his lips once more then motioned for me to follow him. Without another sound he set off at a lope and I sprinted after him.

My heart was racing, adrenaline pumping in my veins. This was unlike any time I had ever been in the corridors after dark. This time detention and lost points are the least of our worries if we get caught. We turned right and went down a set of stairs, then left and down another set of stairs, then down another corridor.

There was a noise ahead and Ron grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into an empty classroom. Two ghosts, whispering together, went past the doorway a few moments later. I waited the space of three fast heartbeats before moving to look out the door. Ron got there first. After a moment he turned to me and nodded. We slipped back out into the dark corridor.

Five minutes later we were standing before the door to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Ron glanced at me than stuck his wand in his pocket, leaned forward, and turned the doorknob. Myrtle’s gurgling sobs echoed down the empty corridor and startled me. Afraid Filch or someone worse would hear I shoved Ron through the doorway and closed the door hurriedly behind me.

Leaning against the door I let out a sigh of relief. Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom- the place I had spent the majority of two months in my second year- looked exactly as it had then with its chipped and spotted mirrors, rusty faucets, dingy stalls- half of them with doors falling or already fallen off.

It was almost like returning to a childhood haven.

Myrtle’s moans bounced off the walls and reverberated around me as I walked forward to where Ron stood in front of the end sink.

“How do we get in?� I whispered.

I had not been present when Ron and Harry had gone into the Chamber before, I had been lying petrified in the infirmary and therefore had no idea about how to proceed. From the bowels of the plumbing connected to the toilet in the end stall behind us, Myrtle’s crying abruptly stopped.

Ron turned away from me for a moment to prop the broom against the wall. When he turned back his ears were pink and he was looking self conscious.

“I think I need to tell the sink to open in Parseltongue.�

I stared at Ron. Well, apparently that insignificant little detail had slipped his mind. Now we were stuck in a girl’s toilet with Moaning Myrtle.

“You don’t speak Parseltongue! How-“

“Hermione. I know I don’t speak Parseltongue. Alright? I can handle this. I’m just trying to remember what Harry said when he opened the locket.�

I closed my mouth. This was an unusual experience. I wasn’t accustomed to Ron being prepared, I didn’t know how to handle a Ron who had done his homework. I was impressed.

Ron was biting his lip, staring at the tap of the sink before him. I watched him for a moment then happened to glance at the mirror above the sink. My heart almost stopped. I had to slap my own hands over my mouth to keep from screaming as I whirled around. Ron jumped and turned to see what had startled me, one hand holding his wand in the defensive position, the other hand stretched protectively in front of me.

Moaning Myrtle was floating a few inches behind me, gazing down at us through her coke-bottle glasses, a doubtful expression on her face. I stared at her, my heart thundering in my chest. After an anxious minute Ron spoke.

“Myrtle! Bloody-“

“Oh, I do know you two,� said Myrtle, glumly. “I wasn’t sure when I first saw you. It’s been years since you’ve been here. Where is Harry? He always came with you before. I haven’t seen him in ages.“

There was a pause, then Ron spoke.

“He’s in the boy’s bathroom on the seventh floor, Myrtle, why don’t you go say hi?�

I stared at Ron in surprise. He turned slightly to look at me and winked the eye farthest from Myrtle.

“Is he really?� said Myrtle, looking slightly less glum. “Maybe I should go say hello. I haven’t seen him in ages and ages.� She stared at us for another moment then turned. “Almost no one comes in here anymore. I was starting to get lonely…� she said as she drifted back to her stall. There was a gurgling sound from the toilet and she was gone.

I ran to her stall to check, then ran back to Ron. “That was brilliant!� I whispered, and danced on the spot for a moment. “How did you think of it?�

Ron grinned and shrugged.

“She was talking about the last time she saw Harry, and I remembered it was when she turned up to watch him in the Prefect’s bathroom in the fourth year, so I thought maybe she’d be interested enough in seeing him again to leave.�

He turned determinedly back to the sink.

“I think I’ve got it.�

It took a little longer for me to return to the state of mind I had been in before Myrtle had shown up. I stared as Ron leaned toward the sink and made a strange, choked hissing, spitting sound.

Nothing happened. Ron’s face crumpled in disappointment.

“Try again, Ron,� I breathed.

He glanced at me, then, face screwed up in concentration, Ron leaned forward once more and hissed. The tap glowed white and began to spin. I gasped in amazement as the sink sank into the floor, exposing a large pipe.

“Ready?� asked Ron.

I turned to look at him. He was holding Cho’s broom and looking grim. I took a deep breath and looked at the hole in the floor before me.

“Yes.�

Ron must have seen the look on my face, because he stepped forward and said, “I’ll go first, shall I?�

I nodded gratefully. Descending into a dark slimy pipe without a clue as to what it led to was not something I was overly anxious to do. Ron wrapped his arms around Cho’s broom, sat down on the edge of the pipe, turned and grinned encouragingly at me, then pushed himself forward and disappeared down the dark pipe so quickly it was frightening.

My turn.

I stepped forward, sat down and lowered myself into the pipe. With a grimace I let go of the edge… and then I was sliding down, down, rushing into the slimy, smelly darkness, and clutching my beaded bag as tightly as I could. The pipe curved and twisted steeply downward past many other smaller pipes that seemed to connect to it. I could faintly hear Ron thudding against the curves somewhere ahead of me.

After several minutes of flying downward the pipe suddenly became level and I shot out- straight into Ron. There was a grunt, a crazy whirl of ceiling and floor in the dim light, and then we landed side by side on the wet floor of a large stone tunnel. I sat up on my elbows, gasping for breath. Squinting down at myself, I saw that I was covered in slime. Beside me Ron, who was just as slimy, shook his head dazedly.

“You seem to like doing that,� he said, chuckling. I raised my eyebrows and he elaborated, “Flying at me for no reason. Why don’t you warn me before you do it next time?�

I laughed. “I’ll try.�

Ron stood up, offered me a hand, which I took, and helped me up, then bent and picked up the broomstick. I lit my wand and together, we turned to look down the tunnel. The smile on my face slid off faster than I had slid out of the pipe as I remembered why we were here. Turning to Ron, I was surprised to see how quickly his teasing expression had disappeared. He looked sick.

“Are you alright?� I asked, concerned.

He nodded and swallowed.

“It’s just bad memories. The last time I was here, I thought Ginny was- I thought Ginny had- yeah… just bad memories.� He stared into the darkness of the tunnel ahead.

I stared at him, an exhilarating idea taking shape in my mind. My heart pounding, my mouth dry, I reached out and took hold of his hand. He looked down at our entwined fingers in surprise then up at my face. I squeezed his hand and smiled.

“We can do this,� I said. Ron took a breath, looked down at our joined hands again and nodded.

“Come on,� he said, and gave me a small smile. Still holding hands we hurried down the tunnel, our footsteps echoing loudly on the wet stone.

Then a high cold voice spoke and I screamed. Ron yelled in surprise and we both whirled around, looking for the speaker, but there was no one to be seen. I whirled again and slipped on the wet floor, landing hard on my back. I sat up hurriedly as Ron crouched by me, pointing his wand nervously into the shadows around us.

“I know you are preparing to fight,�* said the cold voice of Lord Voldemort. “Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight.�*

We sat in silence for another moment.

“Sounds like Hogwarts is going make a fight of it,� Ron said at last.

“Oh, I hope the Slytherins don’t get to Harry. You know they would love to turn him over to Voldemort.� A knot of worry formed in the pit of my stomach at the thought.

“Harry’ll be alright. He’s got all the Gryffindors, and probably most of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs on his side,� Ron said, trying to reassure me. I could tell he was trying to sound confident but I could still hear the worry in his voice and I shivered.

“You don’t suppose he would- you know- hand himself over? I mean, remember, in our fourth year, the second task, he didn’t care about his score, he had to save-?�

Ron’s eyes widened, and when he spoke it sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“Nah, Harry’s not that thick. He knows it wouldn’t do any good, wouldn’t stop V-Voldemort killing people. And he knows he has to finish him off. Harry- he’s not that thick.�

That’s twice he’s used the name now, I thought, impressed. There was another moment of silence. Uncomfortably aware of the moisture under my backside I cleared my throat.

“Do you think I could, er, get up now?"

Ron, who was still half-standing over me, a protective hand on my shoulder, made a surprised noise, got to his feet and helped me to stand once more. I was surprised when he kept a firm grip on my hand once we were both standing. I turned to look at him. His blue eyes met mine unflinchingly. The expression on his face- a mixture of defiance, teasing and something that looked like nerves- set my heart racing again. After a moment I waved vaguely at the tunnel and raised my eyebrows.

“Shall we?�

Ron nodded and we started off down the tunnel again, hand in hand.

After a few steps the wand-light illuminated a rat skeleton on the floor ahead. A few steps further and I could make out several more rodent bones. A few steps after that and the small yellowed bones seemed almost to carpet the tunnel floor. I became so consumed with trying to avoid stepping on them that I would have stumbled over the first of the rocks if Ron hadn’t held me back. Looking up I saw a huge pile of broken stone, unchanged since the time Ron and Harry had been here in our second year and Lockhart had made the mistake of trying to Obliviate them with Ron’s broken wand. Up at the top of the pile, close to the ceiling, was a small opening between the rocks and the ceiling, just large enough for a person to slip through.

We climbed up the small hill of rock and once again, Ron gallantly went first into the darkness of the gap, still grasping my hand. I climbed through after him and together we slid down the pile of stone, creating a small landslide and laughing quietly. At the foot of the hill we set off down the tunnel once again. It twisted, maze-like, one way and then another, and I was just starting to wonder when we would get to the end when we turned another corner and came to a wall where two intertwined snakes with gems for eyes stood sentinel. I looked at Ron.

“I suppose I need to speak Parseltongue again,� he said, looking at the snakes.

He stared at the shining jewel-eyes of the snake statues, opened his mouth and let out a low strangled hiss like he had in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. There was a pause. Nothing happened. Come on Ron. I thought. He frowned. There was another strangled hiss. Again, nothing happened. Frustrated, Ron lowered his eyelids until his eyes were mere blue slits in his face and, his voice low and angry, he hissed once more.

There was a small rumble and the wall divided. The halves slide sideways into the walls on either side revealing a huge, dark, cavernous space. Ahead I could see the black outline of something long and coiled and mostly bone: the basilisk.

Where its eyes should have been were two dark holes. There was a putrid smell of something long dead in the air and as we walked toward it there was a skittering sound that made my skin crawl and a dozen mice and rats scampered away into the dark. I shuddered at the irony. The basilisk had once feasted on the rodent population of Hogwarts, now the rodent population feasted on it.

I was glad to see however, that the most important feature of the basilisk’s remains had stayed untouched. A dozen fangs, thin, yellow and more than a foot long each stuck out of the dried and cracked jaws of the giant serpent.

Ron dropped Cho’s broom and I dropped my beaded bag and we both rushed forward and began hurriedly yanking teeth. Like two frenzied reptilian dentists, I thought with a smile. But the smile disappeared as I thought of my parents: dentists, their memories modified, living in Australia without a clue that their only daughter was thinking of them, without a clue that they had a daughter.

Surreptitiously, I wiped the tears in my eyes on the back of my sleeve as it went by my face, my hand reaching for another fang.

I didn’t realize that Ron was no longer by my side until he spoke from behind me.

“Hermione.�

My heart thudded wildly and I spun around. Ron was kneeling next to my beaded bag. Hufflepuff’s cup was in his hands. He looked up at me with wide blue eyes, his face solemn.

“Why don’t you do this one?�

I sucked in a breath.

“Come on, Hermione. I did the last one. We might as well get rid of it now, while we can’t be interrupted. You can do it.�

My heart was pumping, my breath coming in short gasps as the adrenalin hit my veins. I wasn’t sure whether it was what Ron was asking me to do that had started it, or the look in his eyes.

I looked down at the fangs in my arms then back at the cup. Carefully, I set down the majority of the fangs I was holding on the slimy floor, saving only the one currently in my hand. I walked forward and knelt in front of Ron with the cup in between us. I thought of all the people, like my parents, who were forced into hiding by the monster who had made this Horcrux. All the people who would finally have peace in this world once no part of Voldemort remained in it.

For Mum and Dad. I thought. Then I looked up into the blue of Ron’s eyes and my heart fluttered again.

And for Ron.

I plunged the fang down through the crest of Hufflepuff into the front of the tiny golden Horcrux.

I jumped when a small shriek seemed to come from the thing I had stabbed. There was a puff of thick black smoke from under the point of the basilisk’s fang that immediately dissipated and then it was done.

“Alright!� said Ron, grinning. “Now we better get back up there if we don’t want to miss the fight!�

Together we carefully scooped up the basilisk fangs, now grimy from being on the slime-covered floor. I swung the beaded bag over my shoulder and Ron put the cup in the inner pocket of his coat and retrieved the broom. We hurried back into the entrance of the basilisk’s lair. The chamber doors slid shut behind us and then we were going through the winding tunnel again, up the pile of rocks and through the gap between ceiling and floor, down the other side and then all the way to the rim of the pipe.

Here Ron paused, looking from the fangs in his arms to the broom in his hand. He turned to me.

“D’you suppose-?�

“I’ll take them,� I said eagerly. Ron looked relieved. Carefully he handed the fangs he was holding to me. I stood quite still, very aware of the fact that there was no Fawkes around to heal me should these fangs slip. Ron mounted the broom and I moved gingerly forward until I was on it too. Ron took back a few of the fangs he had just given me and tucked them under one of his arms. I wrapped my newly freed arm around his chest and clung to him as he kicked off and we rose with a rush through the damp air of the pipe.

We flew steeply upward, the cold air whistling by, for little more a minute. Then suddenly we were emerging into the girls’ bathroom. Floating in front of the door, her usually opaque face blushing silver with anger and embarrassment, was Moaning Myrtle.

“You-!� she began, but Ron shook his head, aimed the broom toward the door behind her and leaned forward. We shot toward the door, passed, shuddering, through Myrtle, who shrieked with surprise and fear, banged the lavatory door open, and flew into the noisy and dust-filled corridor.

The battle of Hogwarts had begun.

………………………………

We nearly flew into the wall opposite Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom before Ron turned the broom.

We sped off, down the corridors and up the staircases we had crept down so cautiously such a short time ago. Then, as we reached the fifth floor, there was an enormous blast of sound and the entire School shook menacingly. There were yelling and screams all around and somewhere in the distance I thought I heard a dog’s bark. I jumped in surprise and dropped half my fangs. Ron pulled the broom to a standstill and we leaped off.

I scrambled to pick up the fangs I had dropped. Ron stuffed Cho’s broom under his arm and bent to help. Straightening up I was just about to suggest we go look for Harry, make sure he was alright, when someone started yelling and I looked up to find a familiar messy-haired boy with a lightening scar charging toward us. It was Harry, of course. The knot that had been in my stomach ever since Voldemort’s voice had startled us in the underground tunnel relaxed.

“-have you been?�* he was bellowing.

“Chamber of Secrets,�* Ron replied before I could open my mouth.

“Chamber- what?�* Harry asked confusedly as he skidded to a halt before us. I hurried to answer.

“It was Ron, all Ron’s idea!�* I gasped happily. “Wasn’t it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after you left, and I said to Ron, even if we find the other one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn’t got rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The basilisk!�*

“What the-?� *

“Something to get rid of Horcruxes,�* Ron said modestly.

Harry stared at us for a moment and I could see his mind struggling to comprehend the way mine had.

“But how did you get in there? You need to speak Parseltongue!�* he said at last.

“He did!�* I said, still awed. “Show him, Ron!�*

Ron made the hissing sound again.

“It’s what you did to open the locket. I had to have a few goes to get it right, but we got there in the end,�* he said with a shrug.

“He was amazing! Amazing!�* I said emphatically.

“So…�* said Harry, still running a little slow, “So…�*

“So we’re another Horcrux down,�* said Ron, producing the Horcrux from his inner coat pocket with a flourish. “Hermione stabbed it.�* I grinned and blushed. “Thought she should. She hasn’t had the pleasure yet.�*

Harry looked dumbfounded.

“Genius!�* he roared.

I beamed, remembering saying almost the same thing when Ron had suggested the idea.

“It was nothing,�* said Ron, grinning happily. “So what’s new with you?�*

There was another explosion from somewhere above us and we all looked up as a flurry of dust fell from the ceiling. Someone screamed. Harry’s smile faded.

Suddenly business-like he said, “I know what the diadem looks like, and I know where it is. He hid it exactly where I hid my old Potions book, where everyone’s been hiding stuff for centuries. He thought he was the only one to find it. Come on.�*

There was another explosion and all of Hogwarts shook once more as we ran down the corridor after him, through the hidden doorway and down the twisting staircase to the Room of Requirement.

I was surprised to see Tonks, Ginny, and Neville’s gran, still wearing the hat with the stuffed bird on it that we had met her in three years before, all standing there. It seemed that we had interrupted their conversation. There was a moment of silence and then they started asking Harry questions.

We’ll need everyone to be out of the Room of Requirement to use it… I thought rather distractedly as Mrs. Longbottom hurried up the stairs. What is Tonks doing here? Shouldn’t she be with her baby? At Mrs. Tonks house?

“I couldn’t stand not knowing- She’ll look after him- have you seen Remus?�* Tonks answered my question, or rather the one Harry had said out loud, before I could ask it. Her face was a pale circle of worry. As soon as Harry told her when he had last seen her husband she tore off up the stairs. Two down, one to go, I thought as I turned to Ginny.

“Ginny, I’m sorry, but we need you to leave too,�* Harry began. Ginny grinned wickedly. “Just for a bit. Then you can come back in,�* Harry continued quickly. He sounded anxious. “And then you can come back in!�* he repeated as she sprinted up the stairs. “You’ve got to come back in!�* he shouted after her. Was Ginny supposed to be here? She was underage, after all… I was just about ready to run after her when Ron spoke.

“Hang on a moment!�* He said loudly. His face was worried. “We’ve forgotten someone!�*

I searched my memory. There wasn’t anyone in the Room of Requirement besides the three of us now and the school seemed mostly deserted. Surely the teachers had evacuated the students?

“Who?�* I asked, curious.

“The house elves,�* Ron said.“They’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they?�*

My heart started pounding. Ron gets it. After all these years, he finally sees that they’re people! My brain was numb. Ron was just full of surprises tonight. He had done his homework, and now he was remembering the ones that even I had forgotten in the rush to destroy Horcruxes! Ron is growing up, I thought dimly. Ron is maturing. Ron has grown some sympathy. His emotional range has finally extended to more than a teaspoon.

Harry was asking if Ron thought the house-elves should fight.

Harry doesn’t get it.

“No, I mean we should get them to get out,�* Ron said solemnly.

I was flying. Is this the Ron who scorned S.P.E.W. from the moment I started it? Is this the Ron who fantasized about continuing the Black family tradition with Kreacher’s head mounted next on the wall? Is this the Ron who has been unable to understand the most flagrant hints of affection I could possibly throw? Is this the Ron I grew to like so much? No. This was a better Ron. This was the Ron I had hoped he would become. This was the Ron who had shone through the shell that was the other Ron. This was the Ron I had come to love.

“-don’t want any more Dobbies, do we?�* he was saying fervently. “We can’t order them to die for us-“*

The basilisk fangs fell from my arms as I threw myself forward, flung my arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips for the first time. The next moment I cannot describe. It was him and I alone in the world, finally understanding each other fully. Nothing else mattered. The fear, the worry, the battle raging in halls outside faded from my mind. There was nothing but Ron, and I was kissing him…and he was kissing me back.

Harry was saying something but I didn’t care. Everything Ron had ever done wrong was being made right, he had redeemed himself completely in my eyes and this was his redemption. Every unkind word he had said, every feeling he had bruised, every moment of every day after he had left and before he had returned was forgiven. The slate was clean.

“OI!* yelled Harry. “There’s a war going on here!�*

And suddenly I was back in reality, my arms around Ron’s neck, as I turned to look bemusedly at Harry. Ron grinned and said exactly what I would have if I had been able to utter a word.

“I know, mate. So it’s now or never, isn’t it?�*

I blushed happily.

“Never mind about that, what about the Horcrux? D’you think you could just- just hold it in until we’ve got the diadem?�* Harry asked exasperatedly, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

Horcrux… wait…Oh, yeah,I thought, guiltily.

“Yeah- right- sorry-“* Ron said, and bent over to pick up the basilisk fangs that were scattered over the floor around us. His face and ears were pink. I bent to help him. He moved closer on the pretext of picking up a fang right at my feet.

“I thought you were going to warn me.�

I looked up at him, confused. He was grinning and looking at me out of the corner of his eyes.

“You know, you said you would warn me the next time you were about to fly at me for no reason.�

I laughed softly and straightened up, my arms full of fangs. Ron stood up too, and as we followed Harry to the cupboard staircase I leaned closer to him.

“I had very good reasons for that one.�

We started up the staircase.

“Do you accept advance warnings?� I asked quietly as we rounded a bend in the stairway. I saw Ron nod out of the corner of my eye.

“Well then. Consider yourself warned, Ronald.�

I grinned and sped up. Just let him think about that, I thought, smiling. Behind me I thought I heard Ron chuckle.

The End.