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Chapter Twelve, Part Three
The Seer out of Sight - Ignus Fatuus
Posted September 30, 2005

“Hermione?”

The voice called her back from the fuzziness of sleep. Slowly, her eyelashes parted and the freckled face of Ron Weasley swam into view. She eased her way out from under Harry’s slumbering form, trying not to wake him. In her tired state, it took a moment to realize why Ron was looking so anxious and apologetic, but then the details of the previous evening’s conflict returned to her. She hung back, abashed.

“Walk with me?” Ron asked softly.

Hermione acquiesced and followed Ron out the portrait hole. As they passed the statue of Lachlan the Lanky, Ron awkwardly grasped for Hermione’s hand. The suit of armor at the end of the hall clanked with laughter, but Ron shot such a murderous look in its direction that it fell silent at once.

“This way…don’t want to be overheard.” Ron kicked the suit of armor as he led Hermione up the winding staircase to the Astronomy Tower. Long-legged Ron took the steps two at a time and Hermione had to jog to keep up. Hermione counted 461 steps before she and Ron, breathless, emerged onto the ramparts.

“It’s beautiful,” Hermione whispered, drawing in a lungful of brisk morning air.

Ron took her other hand and turned Hermione around to face him. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I know you didn’t mean anything by it…I shouldn’t’ve stormed off…”

“I’m sorry too, Ron--” Hermione began, but Ron cut her off.

“You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just overreacted.” He paused thoughtfully, staring out over the Forbidden Forest. “As a matter of fact, I think we should go and have a look.”

“Do you really?” Hermione asked eagerly. “Oh, Ron!”

“It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” he asked, smiling bravely. “And, going to Auntie Muriel’s is something I can help with. I mean, I don’t have as much to offer Harry as you do. You’re the one he really needs.”

“Nonsense,” Hermione replied automatically, but she knew Ron spoke the truth. If only Harry could know just how much he needed her…

“It’s true, Hermione. You’re the one he really needs. I used to be jealous, you know -- before.”

“You needn’t have been,” Hermione smiled to herself, nestling under Ron’s arm.

“I got you something too,” Ron mumbled. This tips of his ears burned red as he pulled a glittering violet amulet from his pocket. “Dad reckons they don’t work, and some of them are, you know, a bit wonky, but I tried it out myself and it didn’t turn my skin orange or anything…I just thought…”

“It’s lovely, Ron,” Hermione perched on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his freckled nose.

“Shall we go and tell Harry that it’s high time for another road trip?” Ron asked, grinning broadly.

* * * * *

HARRY

As twilight descended on the grounds, Harry, Ron and Hermione crept down the grand staircase and slipped one-by-one through a crack in the heavy wooden doors. As there was no hope of fitting all three of them under the Invisibility Cloak any longer, and as Hermione had been unable to find the incantation needed to perform the Disillusionment Charm, they strode across the wholly visible, talking softly amongst themselves to dispel their anxieties.

“Just for the record, I still don’t think it’s very manly attire,” Ron said with a sly grin.  

“Oh, Ronald – he could have been married!”

Harry waved his hands to quiet them; they were nearing Hagrid’s hut and could not afford to be overheard now.

They dodged a veritable cloud of bats as  they entered the woods, tramping over fallen logs and mossy patches. Harry half-expected an errant centaur’s arrow to graze his ear, but nothing happened. Tonight, the centaurs were not on guard.

“How much farther til we’ve exited the grounds?” Ron asked presently.

“Not far,” Harry said, eyeing the Marauder’s Map. He thought of his father and Sirius, exploring the bounds of the Hogwarts property, in the guises of their Animagus forms.

Finally, a gap of starry sky appeared between the trees.

“Here.” Harry said. “We’re out.”

“Remember, Low Moor, Clitheroe,” Ron said, looking from Harry to Hermione. “Clitheroe.”

“And, Ron, destination, deliberation--"

“Hermione!” Ron groaned. “Do you always have to nag--”

But Harry did not hear the rest of Ron’s sentence, he was already spiraling away through time and space. Just as the pressure on his lungs and eardrums became too much to bare, he felt his feet strike solid ground. Moments later, Ron and Hermione materialized at his side, windswept and bickering. It took Ron a moment to regain his bearings, then he led them down a winding country lane towards a distant patch of woods.

“Right this way, won’t be five minutes,” Ron said cheerily. “You don’t suppose she’ll invite us to stay for tea, do you? I could do with one of her cucumber sandwiches.”

A wispy tendril of smoke snaked upwards through the canopy of the trees –

“Bless her,” Ron said with a fond smile. “She has a fire on. I could use a bit of warming up, myself. Cucumber sandwiches and hot cocoa, do you reckon?”

As they ambled down the dusty path, something green and glittering caught Harry’s eye, but moments later they were enveloped in the shadowy depths of the woods and Harry pushed it from his mind.

Farther up the path, Ron broke into a run. “Nearly there!” Ron called over his shoulder. “I’m starved.”

Without thinking, Harry jogged to keep up. Panting, he rounded the final bend in the trail, only to find Ron, standing motionless, his mouth agape.

“Ron!” Hermione whimpered urgently, rushing to his side.

Horrified by the thought of what he might see, Harry lifted his eyes from Ron and Hermione to the charred shell of a cottage, looming above them. Harry scanned the scene frantically; whoever had done this couldn’t be far away. Then, as if in answer to his fretful wonderings, a hooded figure stirred in the rubble.

“Ron! Hermione! Move!” Harry shunted Hermione sideways into the dense undergrowth, but couldn’t budge Ron, who stood rooted to the spot.

“Nooo—” Ron moaned, unable to tear his eyes away from the smoldering ruins.

In a valiant second attempt, Harry lunged at Ron and pulled him to the ground just as a volley of spells issued from the ruins.

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