HPNSA - BOOK TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY
HERMIONE’S SECRET


“How can you trust him?” Draco asked.

Hermione took a sip of hot tea. She tried to answer him but the burning liquid scorched the lining of her mouth, numbing her tongue.

“Do you have any idea of what kind of person he is?” Draco asked again.

She had told Draco all that Viktor said. She was hoping that a plan would come out of it, because right now, she was bereft of all sensible thought. However, Draco was not ready to trust Viktor the way she does, in fact, he was beginning to sound like Ron whenever the name Viktor Krum was mentioned in conversations.

“Draco, he’s a spy, just like Professor Snape,” Hermione said lazily, swallowing a bit.

“No! You don’t know that for sure,” Draco contested. “Keeping Ron out of Hogwarts, because he’d be used to get Harry--- don’t you see how ridiculous that sounds?”

Hermione sighed keeping her eye on the robin that had been pecking at the half-eaten apple she left on the window. She had not slept and hoped that the morning would bring her peace. However, Draco was making sure she had none until she admits her mistake, or at the very least, before making any decision, reassess. She agreed that they were all in over their heads – have been since the day they met Harry.

“Look, Harry’s body is safe while it’s in Hogwarts. By this time, Ron’s already there -- probably training, or planning things out,” Draco said. “Hogwarts is the only sanctuary for him. Isn’t that the reason why I can’t be there, because he needs to be there? Now you’re telling me, we should tell Arthur Weasley that his youngest son should stay out of the only haven he can find, because Viktor Krum---”

“I get the idea!” Snapped Hermione standing from the sofa she had been cozily slumped in all morning to face Draco who stood behind the kitchen counter. She could see the logic but for reasons beyond explanation, her heart told her to trust Viktor’s words. He would never lie to her, not about this. Or would he?

“Hermione let us leave this whole matter to those who know more. I think you have done a lot for both Ron and Harry already. We don’t even know what helping me would do,” Said Draco as he walked closer to Hermione.

“What do you mean by that?” Hermione scowled.

“You know Ronald. You know his temper.” Draco answered.

“Yes, I do, and that is why you should not be there, because I know how irrational he can be!” Hermione retorted.

“He hates me, always has,” Draco said.

“And for good reason!” Hermione snapped.

“Yet you’re helping me.” Draco stressed. “How do you think he’d see that?”

Hermione stopped; she knew exactly what Draco was driving at for it had been beating her constantly since she began planning this out. Ron would never understand why she did it. He would always see this as betrayal, and no amount of explanation would change his mind unless it came from Harry himself. She was hoping that if he’d see her condition, he’d just accept things and forgive her.

“It’s too late wondering about that now. I know he’ll never accept anything I say. He’ll hate me for sure, and quite understandably. It’s a good thing Professor Lupin destroyed your pensieve.” Hermione answered sighing deeply and shaking her head in regret; everything was crumbling down. All her careful planning would amount to nothing because other forces, more powerful than she anticipated, were working against her. All she wanted was to have him back.

“I don’t want to sound negative here, but what if he already knows. Maybe it’s better for us to face each other, maybe keeping me away from him isn’t the right thing to do.” Draco suggested.

She went back to the sofa and slumped back into her original position; looking out the window where the robin used to be. Now only a pecked, half-eaten apple was there, rotting under the sun, waiting for someone to throw it into oblivion. She could see herself in that apple, half-eaten, enjoyed for a while, until he realized he wanted a peach, leaving her by the window to be pecked at by robins—rotting under the scorching sun.

“Hermione, I know you told me that you’re doing this for Harry. But Harry made it perfectly clear with me before he left, that I’m not the one he wants. He wants Ron. You, of all people, should know that.” Draco said.

“The question is, will Ron want him back?” Hermione countered.

“What do you mean?” Draco asked.

“You know what happened in the Forbidden Tower. You know what the Dark Lord made you do.” Hermione retorted.

“Yes, but that was---”

“That was something Ron would never forgive---nor forget. Something he will never understand. Harry forgave you, how do you suppose that would look to him?” Hermione stressed bitterly.

“So you’re thinking that if Ron finds out, he’d hate Harry. Is that it, Hermione? Is that what you’re thinking? Or---hoping?” Draco suggested.

Hermione couldn’t answer. She just sat there, looked at the apple, and winced when a stinging pain shot through her body.

“Hermione, are you still in love with Ron?” Draco said softly.

Hermione could feel large chunks of pent up emotions flooding her esophagus. She knew it would come out one way or another. All the lying she had to do to herself, to her parents, to everyone would one day boil inside the smoldering cauldron of her conscience and overflow. Everybody will find out – one way or another – what this was really all about.

The next real step: moving on.

She hated herself for scheming, but after seeing Ron broken into tiny pieces during the four-day wake, she decided Ron needed another life. Ron would not take it of course. He will never forget what had happened. She wanted to erase all his intimate memories of Harry but that would mean erasing three years, he’d retard back to his thirteen-year-old self, and people would know she did it.

Erasing Harry as though he never existed was not the right way to do it, she thought. The memory of their love is like a cage made of unbreakable material. Hermione knew the answer was building the future—a new future, without Harry Potter. She had to make Ron realize that there is life after Harry…with her.

***

“Has he eaten anything at all since this morning?” Hermione asked Ginny.

Ginny shook her head.

“It’s the third day, Ginny. He hasn’t taken anything since Harry died.” Hermione said.

“Father gave him an elixir the other day,” Ginny whispered hoarsely.

“That is not enough, I knew this would happen. I should have been quicker.” Hermione said regretfully then she turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Ginny asked.

“To get something for Ron. He needs to eat, sleep, and smile. Harry will not deny him of a life now that his is over.” Hermione replied.

“What are you planning to do?” Ginny whispered, following her closely.

“Planning?” Hermione snapped. She reeled and met the accusing glare of Ron’s only sister. “I’m not planning anything.”

“Where are you going then?” Ginny asked again.

“I’m going to Madam Pomfrey’s to get a sleeping draught, or a calming potion.” Hermione answered.

Ginny sighed and slowly returned to her seat. Hermione looked at her worriedly; Ginny suspected something by the tone of her voice. Ginny did not approve of her meddling into Ron’s affairs, especially when it involved his relationship with Harry. She had fought with her more than once about her constant hounding of Ron while Harry hid in the Southern Tower. Yet, Hermione was not after Ron then, she had convinced herself to give him up completely because Harry’s stomach had begun to show. However, Harry is gone. There is no one between them and she hoped that everybody, including Ginny, would approve.

Why wouldn’t they? She asked herself constantly. Ron deserves to be happy; the life he had with a half-woman gave him too much pain. Perhaps living with a real female would give him happiness.

Molly walked past her carrying Archer in her arms. Hermione tickled his chin before leaving. He was the answer to everything. She looked at Molly and smiled wryly. Then she left for the Gryffindor tower. It was going to happen – and it has to happen tonight.

**

“Slowly, slowly, that’s it. Okay, we’re here. Ginny, go to Professor Snape’s office and ask him for a calming potion and a sleeping draught.” Hermione instructed.

“But I thought you said,” Ginny protested.

“I did, but Madam Pomfrey took it saying Dean needed it badly. He’s been having nightmares all week, and she told me that Ron had to be in bed before we’d give him any of it.” Hermione explained.

“Alright,” Ginny hesitated. “You sure you can manage?”

“Look, Ginny, we’ve been together in graver situations. I’m sure I can handle this for a few minutes. But be quick.” Hermione said.

Ginny looked at Ron who was still rolling in bed, bawling his eyes out.

“Alright.” Ginny said, smiling at Hermione hesitantly before leaving.

“I thought she’d never leave,” Hermione complained. “Now, next Weasley.”

Hermione took out three vials of potions and a spare container and placed them on the side table of Ron’s four-poster. She mixed the first two and said an incantation. She then drank the other one that had a bead inside. She felt her pulse, timed it, and shifted a little as the heat coursed through her body uncomfortably.

When her potion had run its course, she then went to Ron and helped him with his.

“Ron, here…” Hermione said.

“No! NO!” Ron whined weakly as he twisted on the bed, hitting his chest with his fist. “I want Harry back! Hermione---help me!”

“Yes, I know, Ron…drink this and you will have Harry back!” Hermione said tearfully.

Ron stopped twisting and looked at her and then at the potion she held in her hand. Hermione nodded and gently coaxed him to take a sip. Ron hesitated.

“It’s a dreaming potion, something that would help you rest and give you good dreams. I have enchanted it so that you’d dream of Harry.” Hermione said smiling through her tears.

Ron nodded. He sat straight and took the vial from Hermione’s hand. She stared at him as he emptied it, feeling sorry and angry at the same time. In her mind, she kept berating him for leaving her. “This wouldn’t have happened to you, if you only stayed with me,” she thought.

“Thank you…” Ron whispered as he handed her the empty vial. He slowly laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. Then he turned around and stared at Hermione with eager eyes. He blinked several times, trying to focus on the image before him. Hermione brushed away the hair that clumsily covered his forehead. Then, ever so slowly, his mouth curved into a smile. Hermione could feel her heart jump for she had not seen him smile for such a long time. Tears welled in her eyes and flowed down her face.

Then Ron slowly reached out his hand and caressed her face, wiping away the wetness. He placed his hand on her nape and pulled her closer. He placed his lips upon hers and kissed her gently at first, then aggressively, until he was drinking from her mouth. Hermione could feel her entire body temperature rise causing her skin to tingle with the cold air that had entered through the open windows. She threw her robes onto the floor and helped Ron out of his.

“Oh, Ron! Ron!” Hermione moaned as he nuzzled her neck. She bit her lower lip; feeling his hot breath upon her skin again nearly pushed her to the brink of madness.

“Harry,” Ron whispered hoarsely. “How I’ve missed you…”


***

Hermione took another sip from her cup. Draco was now sitting right in front of her covering her view of the apple outside. Her eyes evaded his glare. She knew that they spoke too much- and his listened intently.

“Are you still in love with Ron, Hermione?” Draco asked again.

“I think I already told you about that. I’m going out with Fred now.” Hermione answered.

“Ah…yes, the other Weasley, whom you left behind without a second thought. You don’t care for him, not the way you care for Ron.” Draco said.

There is no one I care for more than Ron, Hermione thought. “I am over him, Draco.”

“Liar!” Draco said.

“Well, if you already know the answer, why the bloody hell are you asking me for?” Hermione fumed.

“I want you to admit it—to yourself, Granger! Let it go!” Draco urged. “That’s the only way you’ll be able to think straight!”

“I am thinking straight! I just ---lack sleep! And I wanted a bit of peace today, thanks to you,“ Hermione ranted.

“Going back to Hogwarts to tell them to kick Ron’s ass out is thinking straight?” Draco retorted. “Granger---Hermione, Viktor Krum has been working for the Dark Lord, and he just admitted working for Aveddon.”

“HE’S A SPY!” Hermione snarled.

“FOR WHOM?” Draco screamed. “He didn’t tell you who sent him, did he?”

Hermione began to feel nauseous. She placed a shaking hand over her mouth as the taste of vomit made its way up her throat. She had been feeling this way since last week. Fred had been very excited but agreed to keep things quiet.

Hermione had to swallow several times before she ventured to talk. “Ron would not stay in Hogwarts, I doubt if he’ll be able to stand being there. The whole place reminds him of Harry, he will stay out, seeking those in his list. Viktor knows that. Warning me to keep him out means that something will force Ron to want to go back in.”

“There are many reasons why he should return to Hogwarts.” Draco argued.

“The only reason for him to go back to the castle was if Harry was there.” Hermione said.

“Archer is a reason to go back.” Draco said.

Hermione sighed deeply then walked towards the kitchen counter. She turned the faucet handle, and placed her cup under the running water. Her tears, soon, followed suit, flowing down like someone had turned the handle. Her sobs were making her entire body shake. Draco walked to her and placed his arms around her trembling shoulders.

“I’m sorry!” Draco said. “Hermione, please…Alright, let’s not talk about him anymore.”

“No…” Hermione whined wiping her face. “Oh, Draco…”

“What is wrong, Hermione? I knew something was terribly wrong with you, the moment you tried to help me. Please tell me. Please!” Draco pleaded.

She turned to Draco and looked into his blue eyes filled with concern. She wanted to laugh had the situation not been so unbearable. To think that a year or two ago, they hated each other to the point of genocide yet now, here they are, holding each other, providing comfort for a loss that they both suffered from, as though they had been the oldest of friends. Life is funny sometimes, however, this was a joke that had grown old.

“I---I---Draco….” Hermione began. She knew it was time she told someone of the secret she only told one other living soul. Draco was the only one who would ever understand what it is like. The only one who would listen without judgment, and help without conditions.

“Whatever it is, we can work it out.” Draco assured her.

“I’m pregnant!”


***


“Harry’s back! Hermione, you’ve got to believe me!” Ron begged. He had been admitted into Saint Mungos Asylum. “He’s back there! You have to believe me! I have spoken to him! Hermione tell them please! I am not crazy!”

Hermione found it difficult to believe partially because she didn’t want to believe it. She just stood there, looking at Ron, praying that he has lost his mind. Arthur Weasley could be heard outside talking to Amelia Bones, and Rufus Scrimgeour, begging them to let Ron go. Hermione could feel herself siding with the Ministry.

“Hermione! You believe me, don’t you! He’s with us again! My parley worked!” Ron pleaded. “Hermione…Hermione---you believe me right? Please! Hermione say you believe me!”

“Parley--- What---What did you parley?” Hermione said. She saw his face beam the moment she showed some sign that she believed him.

“Yes! Hermione---I parleyed with the Keeper of the Dead, her name is Ji. She told me that if I paid her, she’d tell me how to bring Harry back to life.” Ron narrated excitedly.

Hermione heard his words and tried to convince herself that she had to do what was right. She has to give him up. She has to give up the life she planned for them. Harry was not ready to let Ron go. Her eyes were giving way now, shedding tears for the death of all her dreams.

“Hermione! He’ll be with us again!” Ron cried. “It’s ancient magic, Hermione! It works! It’s real! He’s coming back!”

She knew he misunderstood her tears, thinking she sheds them now for Harry. She tried to smile somehow; the muscles in her face were fighting her thoughts and it nearly became impossible to hold back the screams that were now flooding her.

“He’ll be back? You---what did---what did the Keeper tell you?” Hermione said softly, hoping that the cracking of her voice would not show how she really felt inside.

“There is a task that I should do to get him back.” Ron added, no longer squirming, though his tears relentlessly made their way down his ears. “She said ---I have to kill eleven souls to buy Harry back from the veil.”

Hermione, realizing that she was hearing what had transpired during the fifteen minutes that he disappeared inside that pillar of light for the first time, shook herself free from the spiral of self-pity, wiped her face, and listened intently.

“I have to kill ten of those that defiled him, and one that has taken the first Iranna, and defied the gates of Death.” Ron continued.

“Who? Who is the eleventh?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know. I think it might be Voldemort. I have to kill them all, Hermione, before Harry’s next birthday.” Ron answered.

“Why? What happens if you don’t?”

“Harry will be lost to us forever.” Ron replied.

Hermione chided herself for rejoicing knowing that Ron would have loathed her had he known. “What about you? Ron, what happens to you if you fail?”

“I will stay alive---forever.” Ron said with a wry smile on his face.

“What do you mean, forever?” Hermione said, knowing that it didn’t sound as great as he made it to be.

“I knew I could never fool you. Anyone would think that I’d be given immortality for my failure. It means that my body will rot, but I will never be permitted to die.” Ron explained.

Hermione’s anger was now replaced with mortal fear. What has he gotten himself into this time? Hermione thought.

“A life without any rest…alive, yet without any life. It would be better for me if I became a vampire.” Ron humored. “Or a Lycan. Perhaps I should have taken Aidan’s offer.”

“I should have helped you with that book. Didn’t they help you in the Bureau?” Hermione said.

“Aidan would not even look at the book. Rio would not even touch it.” Ron sighed.

“You said you had to pay the Keeper of the Dead. Ron, what did you pay to get that deal?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know, she never told me.” Ron admitted. “But I don’t care, I’m willing to give everything up to bring Harry back to life.”

“Stupid! What if the price is your life? What good would that do you?” Hermione scolded.

“Harry is needed for the fulfillment of the Prophecy against the Dark Lord, Hermione. He is needed, not I. Archer needs him as well.” Ron said.

“Archer needs you too, you idiot!” Hermione cried. I need you.

“I can’t live without Harry!” Ron lamented. “Harry has always been the stronger person. He will do well without me, but I can’t. I can’t go on without him! I need him back! I hope that I am not the price, but if I am, if I have to sacrifice myself, I’d do it!”

“I should learn to open that gate then.” Hermione proffered.

“Why?” Ron wondered.

“So that I can buy you back from death.” Hermione answered.

Ron smiled at her but shook his head. “You truly are an amazing friend, Hermione, you know that?”

Friend? The word echoed drearily in her head. She had been degraded to only a friend.

“I need you to promise me that you will not do that.” Ron said.

“Ron---” Hermione protested.

“No! Because, if I fail, and Harry does not return, someone must stay to make sure my son grows up with love. I trust no one else but you.” Ron pressed.

Hermione wanted to howl for the pain in her chest had constricted her breathing. Our child needs you too, Ron! What about my child? In the end, all she could do was nod for her lips quivered uncontrollably.

Ron slowly strayed his eyes around the pink room. “Help me out of here, Hermione.”

It took a long while before Hermione could answer. Ron reached out for her hand with difficulty for he was bound on the bed by magical ropes. Hermione exhaled loudly when his hand gripped hers.

“Hermione…”

“I will try to come up with a plan. We will need the rest of the Order, and probably the DA to help us. Don’t worry Ron; I believe you…and I will help you. I promise.” Hermione said bending down to kiss his brow.

**


Fred had been sending mixed signals since December. Hermione knew Ron’s older brother had fancied her since the day they met. How convinced he was that she no longer fancied Ron showed in the way he carried himself in her presence, which is to say, uncertain. He knew how much she loved Ron; giving him up to pursue Harry was for him the ultimate act of love anyone could ever do, he told her once. Back then, she thought all that he felt for her was pity – Parvati said so. Now, she wondered if he was willing to try again. She was ready to give Ron up for good even if she was carrying in her womb a child he had deceivingly sired. Everyone would know whose child it would be for the Weasley trait would be evident, much like it is now with Archer. The red hair alone would give it away.

“Fred,” Hermione said walking up to him as he sat by the bleachers of the Quidditch Pitch one foggy morning.

“Hermione. What are you doing here this early in the morning?” Fred mused.

“I was about to ask you the same question.” Hermione said.

“I just needed to be alone.” Fred replied.

“Oh, well, sorry—”

“No! Stay! Please…” Fred insisted holding her hand gently.

Hermione smiled back at him. “Okay.”

She sat beside him and they both looked out unto the empty field. All the banners had been taken down and the house standards folded up. The whole field looked like it hasn’t been in use for decades.

“George just found out he will never see again. Mum’s been busy with him and the baby. Father’s working to get Ron out of the Asylum with Bill and Charlie just went back to Romania on McGonagall’s order.” Fred explained morosely.

“Seems like everyone’s got something to do,” Hermione said. “I don’t think that is the reason why you’re here, though.”

Fred shook his head and smiled bitterly. “I feel like someone is bent on destroying our entire family.”

Hermione could not reply at once; she just sat there, looking out into the empty field, wondering what her secret would do to this family.

“Hermione, do you think Ron is telling the truth?” Fred asked.

Hermione turned to face him and noticed how much he resembles Charlie. Him and George share the same facial traits as Charlie, while Ron looked more like Bill. There are more of them to choose from yet her heart had closed on one. Perhaps it was time to let another Weasley in.

“Yes, Fred. I believe him. I believe that Harry will return. We have to get Ron out of the Asylum.” Hermione answered.

Fred nodded then took her hand. “Ron was right,”

“What do you mean?” Hermione said, feeling the warmth of Fred’s hand upon hers, yet without the tingle of excitement. Her mind fought hard to implant the thought that someday she’d learn to love him.

“It is always good, talking to you.” Fred said.


***

“Does he know?” Draco asked.

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Have you told anyone?” Draco asked again.

Hermione tried to get her bearing. “I told…I told Fred.”

Draco put down the glass of water on the side table beside her, and then sat on the low oak coffee table in front.

“Did you tell him he was the father?”

Hermione closed her eyes tightly and cried harder into the pillow she clutched. Draco moved closer to sit at her side and wrapped her in his embrace. She surrendered into his arms and for the first time she allowed herself to be open.

“I can’t stand it! I love him, Draco! I gave him up to Harry only because I knew it won’t last! I knew he’d die! I wanted Harry to have happiness even for a little while!” Hermione cried. “I’ve read all about Nymphrodites and their plight and knew that Harry would never stand a chance! No one has ever been able to turn the curse.”

“Surely you’re happy knowing that it might. I mean---you’re his best friend!” Draco said.

“Half of me felt happy knowing there’s a chance for Harry to return! The other half---I love Ron, Draco! I’ve loved no one else!” Hermione sobbed.

“Love is not about holding on, Hermione. Love is about letting go. Ron is in love with Harry. You have to let him go.” Draco urged. “Hermione, you have to come clean with the Weasley’s or they’ll never trust you again. Secrets are bad, they cause problems that could be avoided if the truth was spoken long before the damage was done.”

Hermione knew it was time to listen to reason, not only because it was coming from Draco—the most unlikely person --- but also because she was tired of keeping the secret. Things will get complicated if she added more lies. She was willing to start a new life – a real one, giving up Ron completely. If Fred accepts her back, she’d be lucky. If not, she would have to raise this Weasley alone.

That night afforded them both much-needed rest. Hermione, for the first time in a long while, was able to sleep longer and more restful that the morning brought new ideas that she was brave enough to consider.
“I’m going back to the castle today.”

Draco nearly choked on the bacon he had placed inside his mouth. He chewed faster to swallow the whole thing, but before he could say something, Hermione had already left the table.

“Hermione!” Draco called in after her. He quickly turned around as he entered the room with Hermione half-naked.

“Draco!”

“So-sorry!” Draco winced then he walked briskly and clumsily back to the table hitting the beautiful Victorian dresser on his way out of the room.

Hermione could hear him muttering outside and it made her laugh. Draco appeared to have taken Polyjuice potion and switched with some other person she knew, someone who was gentle, sensitive, kind, and considerate. Someone who was not afraid to tell her she was wrong, but was always ready to gather her up into his arms the moment she was weak with self-loathing. He reminded her too much of Harry.

The moment she stepped out of the door, she noticed Draco had already cleaned the table and was now dressing up.

“Going somewhere?” She puzzled.

“Yeah, I’m going with you.” Draco answered. He tied his scarf into a lose knot, and then handed Hermione hers. “Let’s take the brooms, it’ll be faster.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Neither am I, but I am not going to let you travel alone. Not while there are Dark Wizards about. And that Aveddon is out there, who knows what he’s like.” Explained Draco heading out the back door in search of their broomsticks. He emerged a minute or two later, shaking two snow-covered broomsticks outside before going in.

“Draco, Ron might be there.” Hermione warned.

“I’m taking my chances. Besides, he probably still has a hangover of happiness draught. It’s only been what, two days? Harry might have cleared everything with him as, knowing Harry,” Draco said happily. “He wouldn’t want Ron going mad over li’l ol me!”

“You’re so certain he’s in a good mood, you might regret it later on,” Hermione said.

Draco sighed heavily. “Nevertheless, I’m coming with you.”

Hermione smiled at him and nodded. “Be careful, Draco. You keep this up, I might fall for you.”

“That’ll be the day, Draco and the Mudblood!” Draco humored.

“Oooohh! Making jokes now, were on that level, I see, you bouncing white ferret!” Hermione lashed back.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” Hermione said, feeling a bit anxious with Draco’s silence.

“Nothing. It’s been a long time since I last heard that, coming from Weasley. I wonder what the others would say.” Draco said morosely.

“Well, let’s not keep guessing. We better head out, I want to reach the castle before nightfall.” Hermione said.

“Alright, come on then.”

***


“Hermione!” George cried aloud as he approached the gates with Madam Hooch.

“Madam Hooch! Fred?” Hermione asked.

“No, it’s me, George!” George replied. “Fred and I have gone through the procedure. He’s been worried sick about you, you should’ve sent us an owl.”

“I tried to, but something’s come up. Has Professor Dumbledore returned yet?” Hermione queried.

“Yes, in fact he’s inside trying to revive Professor Snape.” George said.

“What’s happened to Professor Snape?” Draco asked moving out of the shadows of the trees, much to George and Madam Hooch’s surprise.

“Draco?” George exclaimed. “I thought you’d be in Ireland by now.”

“He came with me,” Hermione butted in. “I’ll explain later, now we have to hurry, I need to talk to either Professor Lupin or Professor McGonagall.”

“You’ll have to settle for McGonagall. Professor Lupin is out with Aidan MacGrugger, they’re looking for Ron.” George said.

Hermione and Draco stopped dead on their tracks.

“What do you mean they’re out looking for---“ Hermione said weakly.

George walked back to them, held her hand, and said, “He didn’t make it.”

Hermione felt like a heavy thing had fallen over her head.

“What do you mean he didn’t make it?” Echoed Draco, his hand twitched nervously upon Hermione’s.

“By the time he arrived here, Harry had already left the castle.” Madam Hooch answered.

“No,” Hermione whispered.

“Let’s go in, Fred is dying to see you.” George urged.

Hermione was again inundated with that feeling of remorse. She had left Ron during his hour of great need. She should have been here for him, to calm him, to guide him, to be his rock. He was alone because she had to help Draco.

Hesitantly, Hermione and Draco followed George briskly into Hogwarts castle, where they were taken to the great hall for the evening meal. Fred immediately wrapped his arms around Hermione, while Martha ran towards Draco.

“Draco!” Martha greeted. “I’m so glad they brought you back. They said you were in Ireland.”

Hermione saw Draco guide Martha to a corner and whispered something to her. Shortly after, Pansy Parkinson ran to him and threw herself into his arms crying wildly. Hermione felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of Pansy’s arms curled around Draco’s neck.

“Didn’t know they were that close,” Hermione said sarcastically.

“No, Pansy’s been a total mess since Ron attacked her.” Fred said.

“What?” Hermione could not believe her ears; apparently, too many things had happened during the five days that they were gone.

“When Ron got back, he decided to start his task without the Order’s knowledge, and blessing. He attacked Peter Pettigrew in the dungeon, then Pansy.” Fred recounted.

“Why did he have to go after Pansy?” Hermione asked.

“Peter mentioned Crabbe. He needed to know where Crabbe was.” Fred replied.

“And Pansy told him,” Hermione concluded.

“Father is down at the dungeon with Professor McGonagall. They are waiting for Professor Dumbledore to come out. Mum has not spoken since the incident at the house,” Fred said, the look of bitterness plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry I left so abruptly.” Hermione apologized.

“I know why you did, and not a moment too soon. Imagine what would have happened if Draco were here. Hermione, Ron has gone wild. He butchered Crabbe’s entire family, including Vincent, two second-year Slytherins and three fourth-years.” Fred told her.

Hermione wanted to faint for the news had hit her like a gale. Fred caught her as she swooned forward and helped her to a chair.

***

Hermione stretched her back to ease the pain caused by the hours she spent sitting in the library. She was making a thorough research about Parleys with the Keepers, and though very little information could be gathered about them, one thing was for sure – there was no one who parleyed with the Keeper of the Dead that ended up triumphant. Every single one failed in their task, paying the consequences of making such a parley with this Keeper.

The Slayer – she was called - the only Keeper born not from Aum, but from two other Keepers – the Keeper of Darkness, and the Keeper of Magical Beings.

“Odd.” Hermione whispered as she jotted down note after notes in her parchment. Ron would never read this; of course, the notes were for her, to help her figure out this riddle.

She paged through two more books, and then she went back to the book that had scared Harry out of his wits. She read it from beginning to end; stopping every now and then to get air for the detail of each ritual horrified her. Then she got to the section that discussed about Incubi Combibo - the act of sucking out the Iranna using an Incubus.

“Harry went through this twice…” She whispered, holding back tears as she pictured Harry’s torn and tortured body arched in pain as the serrated tongue tore his insides apart. Then the book gave her the answer she was looking for.

“Only one Demon was able to get an Iranna and swallow it before the orb disappeared.” The book read. “He is the first to get the first Iranna, and the only Demon who has been transformed into a Kvazih. He is now named Aveddon.”

Hermione gasped. “Aveddon is the eleventh soul!”

Ron had agreed to this task for a price and the task is impossible to finish. Hermione sat there, sobbing terribly, feeling sorry for Ron’s horrid fate. She held her stomach knowing that their child lay inside, sleeping, unaware of what was about to befall the father he will never get to know save through stories. A father that would never know he existed.

***


“Hello, Ginny.” Hermione said softly as she went inside the room provided for the Weasley’s. They were crammed into one room together near the west hospital wing.

“Oh, Hermione, you’re back.” Ginny said weakly.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione said, as she sat beside Ginny. Hermione noticed the large dark patches around her eyes have subsided, but she still looked pale and sickly.

“I still feel weak, but I’m better.” Ginny answered softly. “How’s Fred Jr.?”

Hermione tried to smile, but the pain that shot through her heart made her bite her lips instead. She swallowed hard, gulping back the tears that rose to her throat. Finally, she her breathing eased, and she ventured to lie one more time. However, Ginny caught on to quickly, and Hermione knew it was useless repeating the same mistake.

“Um—I’m going to bed now, Ginny. Goodnight.” Hermione rose; she was nearly out of the room when she heard Ginny scoff loudly.

“It’s not his, is it?” Ginny sneered.

Hermione could feel Ginny’s burning glare at the back of her head. She wanted to turn around and scream with all her might. Though better judgment stopped her from announcing to the whole Wizarding world who the real father was, it was compassion that stayed her tongue, for Molly was there. Hermione could not bring herself to disturb the peaceful slumber that the Weasley Matriarch seemed to have been denied for many days. She would have to face Ginny some other time.

“Goodnight, Ginny.”