You Have Always Believed Me

YOU HAVE ALWAYS BELIEVED ME

By Vincent “funvince” Nguyen

A Harry/Hermione Fanfiction

Hermione lazily propped her head up with her elbow and watched Harry and Ron once again argue whether Puddlemere United or the Chudley Cannons were the better team. Hermione had no real problems with Qudditch despite what her friends thought, but did her best friends really have to talk about it all the time? It was enough to drive any witch mad.

Fortunately for her nerves, Professor Glass entered the room and the class quieted down. Edward Glass was the current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and since he didn't seem to be moronic, annoying, or just plain evil, the class quite liked him. Most of the Gryffindors were waiting for the other shoe to drop though. Dean and Seamus had placed a huge bet on 'Evil' because they thought that with the exception of Umbridge, evil DADA teachers tended to be the most competent.

Or in Parvati's words, "It's not that we want evil teachers, but we learned loads from the fake Moody, didn't we? And Quirrel wasn't that bad, especially compared to Lockhart! And Lupin's a Dark Creature and he was the best of the whole lot!"

Though Hermione had argued vehemently against lumping Professor Lupin in the 'Evil Teacher' category, she had to agree with the rest of it. Evil or not, Glass was a great instructor and Hermione found herself actually having fun in class, in addition to learning plenty as she was quick to point out to Harry and Ron.

Glass cleared his throat then said, "Class, we're going to do something different today. For the past few months, we've been reviewing basic offensive and defensive spells, like Reducto and Protego, in preparation for N.E.W.T.s and I think we can all agree we need a bit of a break.

"The problem with these spells is that they require quite a bit of power and concentration. What are you going to do when you're drained from firing off one too many Stunners? Today, we'll see how even common household spells can be used in a crisis. We will be using the Severing Charm for this lesson, and I know you've already learned this one from Professor Flitwick, but we'll be seeing how it can be used in combat."

With a wave of his wand, multiple floating dartboards appeared above the students' heads. "Okay, time for target practice. Divide into four lines and have at it! Remember, the further away the target you sever, the more points you get!"

The Slytherins and Gryffindors snapped into motion, jostling for position and trying not to get mixed up with people outside their House.

"Come on, Ron!" Hermione said as she and Harry stood up from their seats. "What's the hold-up?"

Ron's face turned red. "I'm just trying to remember the bloody spell! I know I know it! I used it three years ago. It's on the tip of my tongue..."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said impatiently. "It's Diffindo." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "And please remember that it's Dee-fin-doe, not Dif-fin-du or Dee-fee-do."

"Why do you always have to do that? Why?" Ron complained. "I mispronounce one bloody charm in first year and you never let me forget it..." He continued his ranting to the bemusement of several onlookers.

Hermione caught Harry's eye and grinned. It was just too easy sometimes.

"Granger, don't you ever get tired of being a pain in the arse?" Malfoy drawled, walking up to the trio.

Hermione laid a restraining arm on Ron's arm and Harry laid his hand on Ron's shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw that Professor Glass was on the other side of the classroom and therefore wouldn't be of any help. She looked directly at Malfoy and said, "Don't you get tired of having no life? What kind of loser would keep sniffing around us like a ferret?"

Harry and Ron laughed while Malfoy flushed with anger. Hermione deliberately turned her back on the blond boy and headed toward a line.

"Never turn your back on the enemy," Malfoy growled. "Diffindo!"

Hermione's right sleeve fluttered to the ground. She whirled around, her eyes blazing. "Oh, that's mature!"

Malfoy retorted, "You're the one always talking about the practical use of defensive mag- what the hell is that!"

Tattooed on Hermione's right arm, directly on the forearm right above the joint, was a black skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.

Almost as one, the students took a step back from her.

"Wh-what?" Hermione sputtered, staring at her arm in shock. "That wasn't there this morning!"

There was total silence in the room.

"I'm telling the truth!"

No one would meet her eyes.

"I'm not a Death Eater!"

Hermione looked desperately at Lavender and Parvati who stared back at her with horrified expressions. She immediately turned her eyes to her teacher silently begging him to take control of the situation, but Glass looked at a total loss of what to do.

She squeezed her eyes shut before she could see Harry and Ron's faces. Her head was whirling with panic. She couldn't think. In a shrill, squeaky voice she could barely recognize as her own, she yelled, "Say something!"

"Frankly, I don't know whether to be impressed or appalled," Malfoy said slowly.

"Shut up! You did this, didn't you? If anyone's a Death Eater here, it's you!" Hermione cried, pointing a trembling finger at him.

Malfoy silently rolled up both his sleeves. His arms were bare.

That's when the whispering started.

"Hermione Granger is a Death Eater?"

"...perfect cover! Who'd ever suspect?"

"I knew she couldn't be that smart! She probably traded her soul..."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione snapped. "This is obviously some sick joke! Ron, Harry, you believe me, don't you?"

She turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin. Ron stood three inches away from her face and she had never seen him so angry. His face was dark with rage and his eyes held no warmth. Even the 'Scabbers Incident' had not produced the scowl being directed at her now.

"How long?" Ron growled. "How long has this being going on?"

Hermione shrunk from him. "Ron, you can't believe this! I would never betray you and Harry!"

"Funny you should mention Harry," Ron said, his voice low. "It's always about Harry with you. Harry this and Harry that. It's like an obsession. I always thought you were just overly concerned with Harry's safety, but it was more than that, wasn't it? You were gaining his trust, making him think you cared about him."

Ron advanced toward her and she stumbled back into a desk. His eyes were still cold, but they were now glistening. "You were our friend, Hermione! How could you do this? Did he offer you knowledge? That was always your weakness. Is that why you helped Harry in the TriWizard Tournament? You and Krum were probably working together! Did you help Harry get into the Chamber of Secrets so You-Know-Who could kill him? Were you just pretending the whole time? Answer me!"

Hermione was shaking her head numbly, unable to believe her ears. Her entire body shook with fear and disbelief. This was the stupidest thing she ever heard. She knew Ron had always been reluctant to share Harry's friendship with her, but for him to believe her capable of such malice caused her actual physical pain. No one could possibly believe this, but to her horror, people were nodding in agreement. She squeezed her eyes shut to avoid the prying eyes, trying desperately not to cry.

Green eyes filled with hatred appeared in her mind. Did Harry think she pretended to be his friend too? The answer was probably written on his face, but she couldn't look at him. She refused to look at him.

The tears she had been holding back ran down her face, and suddenly, she couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. Her heart felt like it would literally explode. She had to get out of here NOW!

Hermione was halfway to the door before a voice cried out, "STUPEFY!"

The first thing she saw when she woke up was the moss-stained limestone of the ceiling, which told her that she was currently in the dungeons. She felt quite uncomfortable lying on the damp and hard floor, so she tried to shift her body and heard the rustling of metal. She experimentally tugged and was unsurprised to find that she was chained to the ground.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," a voice sighed.

Hermione's eyes flickered toward the voice. She saw an old woman slumped in a rickety, wooden chair and it took her a moment to recognize her at Professor McGonagall. But she didn't look like McGonagall. The Transfiguration professor always sat ramrod straight with an aura of sternness surrounding her. Frail was not a word associated with the Deputy Headmistress. She radiated strength despite her age; she certainly didn't look old. Not like she did now.

"Hello, Professor," Hermione said politely, resisting the urge to demand an explanation. "Was it really necessary to lock me in the dungeons?"

McGonagall looked uncomfortable. "I'm afraid that under the circumstances that it is necessary. The only alternative would be to call in the Ministry and I think we can both agree that is a bad idea for the time being."

Hope began to rise inside Hermione. Maybe not everyone had turned against her. She asked, "Then what's going to happen to me?"

"As you know, Professors Dumbledore and Snape are out on Ministry business and will not return for two weeks," McGonagall replied briskly. "Since they are the only people in the castle capable of determining the truth of the matter, nothing will be done until they return. You have my word that until this is resolved, all information pertaining to this issue will stay within these castle walls. The owlery has been closed off and the fireplaces will be monitored closely until we get to the bottom of this."

These words should have comforted Hermione, but she experienced a sinking sensation in her stomach when she realized that McGonagall refused to look her in the eye.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Hermione said softly.

McGonagall raised her head and Hermione saw pain in her eyes. "I... don't know."

"Is it so hard to believe I was set up?" Hermione asked, her voice cracking.

McGonagall sighed heavily then replied, "If you did not take that Mark willingly then why didn't you inform any of your teachers?"

"I didn't even know it was there until today! I would have told you if I knew!" Hermione pleaded.

The older woman closed her eyes. Her arms visibly tensed. She said, "To believe that, I would have to believe that He Who Must Not Be Named managed to breach Hogwarts' defenses before you went to class today for the sole purpose of branding you. For he is the only one who could have imprinted the Dark Mark on your arm."

Hermione couldn't believe this was happening to her. Why was no one considering the alternatives? Maybe she had been kidnapped then Obliviated. Maybe she was a Death Eater, but she had been coerced into it. She wanted to say all this and more, but she knew there was no point. Because this had nothing to do with sense or the type of person she was.

"Professor McGonagall, why don't you want to believe me?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Trust you to get to the heart of the matter," McGonagall said with a ghost of a smile on her lips. "I want to tell you that I consider you the best student I've had in years and my skepticism towards you is not personal. I do not want to believe that you would turn your back on everything that is decent and good, but..."

McGonagall sighed again. "But... I honestly thought Sirius Black killed James and Lily. I honestly thought he was capable of it. I could point out the activities in his youth that showed that as close to James as he was, he didn't always appreciate James shooting down his ideas as too reckless and dangerous. I didn't think Sirius was evil, but it was easy to see him getting in over his head and unable to climb out of the hole he dug.

"Imagine my shock when I discovered that it was really Peter Pettigrew who betrayed the Order. Peter was such a sweet boy and even now, I can hardly believe he was capable of such atrocity."

McGonagall took off her glasses and massaged her nose. She murmured, "I never thought Severus Snape would turn back to the Light. I never thought Percy Weasley would turn his back on his family. I knew he was ambitious and rigid, but to the point of being blind and disloyal? I thought he was better than that."

A single tear ran down the older woman's face. McGonagall stared off into the darkness where the torches did not reach and said softly, "Albus used to tell me his suspicions of a young man named Tom Riddle."

Hermione gasped at this though she didn't mean to.

"I told him-" There was a sob in her voice. "I told him that he was being silly! I found Tom to be an extremely intelligent and polite young man if perhaps a bit reserved. And he was intelligent, more so than this old fool of a witch."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked. Her heart was breaking at the sight of the woman she respected most in the world sink into despair.

McGonagall wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and got to her feet. With a touch of her customary curtness, she said, "I thought that after everything you have done for this school you deserved better than to be locked away and abandoned. The circumstances require that you be imprisoned. It does not require that you wake up alone without even an acquaintance to ease your worries and tell you why."

Before Hermione could say anything, McGonagall walked toward the door. She opened it then hesitated for a long moment. Finally, she said quietly, "I will pray that you are telling the truth, but I can not give you unconditional acceptance. I no longer trust my judgment on these matters. I am sorry, Miss Granger."

"Professor?"

"Yes?" McGonagall asked, half-turning.

Hermione lifted her head off the ground to look her teacher in the eye. She said, "Even if you don't believe me, thank you for giving me a chance. And thank you for being here when I woke up."

McGonagall gave a slight nod then exited shutting the door behind her, leaving Hermione alone with only the flickering firelight for company.

There were no windows or clocks in her cell for her to tell the passage of time by, but judging by the height of the torch flames, it hadn't been more than a few hours. If that was true, what would two weeks feel like?

Hermione felt empty inside. She knew she should have been crying or cursing over her fate, but she couldn't summon the energy to do either. She wanted to resent McGonagall and her friends for even thinking that she could be capable of such betrayal, but she couldn't.

Because that was the nature of betrayal. If one saw it coming then it wasn't really betrayal, was it? Harry could never be betrayed by someone like Draco Malfoy because that would imply there was something there between them to be betrayed in the first place. But for Hermione Jane Granger to sport the symbol of everything the wizarding world despised and feared... Such a violation of trust and friendship would produce a pain so intense that only an Unforgivable could possibly match it. That was what she had felt when Ron looked at her with such contempt.

And it was the natural reaction of any animal to avoid pain. Even if her friends didn't want to believe it, they would automatically barricade their hearts against her in the fear that it could be true and they could not take such pain again.

It hurt that McGonagall refused to even consider an alternative explanation for the Mark on her arm, but who said she didn't? Maybe she came up with a dozen alternatives and disregarded them as wishful thinking. It was only natural to want to believe in the innocence of one's friends, but one had to face facts no matter how painful, right?

Was this what Lupin went through when he read the Daily Prophet the morning after that tragic night? Did he try to rationalize a justification for his friend's acts? Did he come up with one outrageous scenario after another trying to understand how Sirius Black could have killed the Potters and thirteen other people?

At some point, Occam's Razor would come into play. The explanation requiring the fewest assumptions is most likely to be correct. Cold logic had to intervene or one would go insane. It was nothing personal against her character. That was the nature of betrayal. When everything one thought was true about a person was stripped away, then they had to rely on the evidence in front of them. It was the sensible thing to do.

And even to her admittedly biased judgment, the simplest, most likely explanation was that she was a traitor.

Sometimes, Hermione really hated being sensible.

Oh, God, she was doing the same thing! She was trying to rationalize and ignore the fact that the people she had known for seven years had betrayed her. That was what they did. But in their minds, she had betrayed them first. Who was wrong here? She didn't know what to think anymore. Hermione wanted to hate them, but all she felt was sadness. She missed her comfortable bed, she missed her books, and most of all she missed her friends. Hermione sniffed miserably. Apparently she could still feel something after all.

Hermione refused to cry. She wasn't going to be here forever. Eventually, her innocence would be proven and she would be released. Dumbledore would come back, read her mind, and see she was telling the truth. She consoled herself with that thought for a few minutes before she realized that she was being premature.

If the Headmaster was feeling extra cautious, he would have Snape make some Veritaserum to ensure that she wasn't practicing Occlumency against him. Since the Truth Potion required a month to brew, she could be in here longer than a mere two weeks. She would still get out, just not as quickly as she would like.

Hermione jerked her chains in frustration. What was to be gained from doing this to her though? What was the point?

The answer that came to mind was so obvious that she could have cursed herself for her dim-wittedness. The point was to hurt Harry, of course. It was always to hurt him.

Even in the best case scenario where Dumbledore required no further proof of her loyalty, two weeks were a long time. Time enough for doubts to fester and completely destroy her friendship with Harry, if it wasn't destroyed already. Even after she was found innocent, things wouldn't be the same.

Harry would never be able to trust her like before, now that he had opened himself up to the possibility of her betrayal. She had seen it happen with him and Ron. Harry's relationship with Ron had never fully mended after the Goblet incident. They kept things from each other when they once told each other everything. There was nothing obvious about it, but there was a slight barrier Harry had in place to protect himself against future betrayals by Ron. He probably didn't even know it was there.

Hermione knew Harry kept secrets from her and Ron, but she didn't think he kept those because he didn't trust them. After this, lack of trust in her would probably be the reason why. Worse, Harry would feel guilty over doubting her. He would withdraw from her even if he didn't mean to, desperately afraid of getting hurt again.

Tears prickled her eyes. She couldn't bear the thought of him hurting because of her. She had already lost Ron, she couldn't lose Harry too!

Sleep was the last thing on her mind, but she was never more thankful for it when it finally came.

"Hermione... Hermione..."

Hermione woke up with a start. Ignoring the aches in her limbs, she lifted her head with a lump in her throat. When she didn't see anything, she lowered her head with a sigh. She wondered if she was already starting to hear voices. She was about to try to get back to sleep when she heard a rustle and her eyes snapped open.

The air shimmered then flipped inside-out revealing Harry Potter and his Invisibility Cloak.

What did one say in a situation like this? Hermione could only stare at the sight of the bespectacled boy speechlessly. Harry had never looked like a healthy boy despite his years at Hogwarts, but he seemed so small and pale that her heart couldn't help going out to him. His face was unreadable and his normally sparkling emerald eyes were dark and lifeless.

Was he here to yell at her? Did he want to see the traitor with his own eyes? Hermione briefly considered proclaiming her innocence, but decided that was too much of a prisoner cliché. She was not going to beg Harry to believe her.

"Why are you here, Harry?" Hermione finally asked.

"I had to see you," he said quietly.

"And why is that?" Hermione asked. She turned onto her side so she could face him better. "I'm assuming that this is not a social visit." She was proud that her voice didn't shake.

Harry sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around his knees. He said, "Because I have a question to ask you."

He gazed directly into her eyes and the force of his stare kept her from looking away. He asked, "Are you a Death Eater?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth soundlessly. She sputtered, "D-do you think I'd confess if I was one? What do you think I would say?"

Harry's stare didn't waver. "Answer the question, Hermione."

A dozen questions whirled through her mind, but she knew that this was not the time to voice them. Hermione gathered up every ounce of conviction she had then said slowly and deliberately, "I am not and never have been a Death Eater."

Harry suddenly looked like she had cast a Cheering Charm on him. He crossed his legs and his eyes became warm again. "Okay, then."

Those two words should have filled her with joy, but they didn't. Disbelief and shock ran through her then were quickly replaced with blistering rage.

"Okay then? No, not okay then! What the hell are you playing at, Harry Potter? Not more than a few hours ago, you were part of that lynch mob! Or do you think I missed the complete and utter silence you gave on my behalf? And now you just waltz in here and tell me you believe me? How does that make even the slightest bit of sense?"

The anger she felt frightened her. She wasn't so much angry at Harry as she was angry at Harry shattering her expectations of the world. She had understood her situation and though she hadn't accepted it, she had been resigned to it. And now, once again, Harry Potter came and changed all the rules. She was being utterly stupid, but that didn't change how she felt.

Harry grabbed her hand and miraculously, her anger dissipated. He said hesitantly, "I'm going to be honest with you."

"That never comes before anything good," Hermione said darkly. Perhaps she had a little bit of anger left after all.

Harry simply looked at her patiently and when she didn't say anything more, he continued, "When I saw your arm, it... hurt... so much. I really did believe that you were a, you know." He looked at the ground, unable to meet her eyes. "I want to say it was shock. I want to say that I never really believed for one second that you were a traitor. I could mention Wormtail, but I don't want to make excuses. I had to let you know how sorry I am. How sorry both Ron and I are."

"Where's Ron then?" Hermione asked. That wasn't the question she wanted to ask, but it was the only one she could voice without breaking down in tears. It was safe and it gave her time to think.

To her disappointment, Harry released her hand and looked sheepish. "He's keeping watch in the hallway. He's too ashamed to talk to you right now. You know how it is when he's angry. His mouth gets disconnected from his brain. He gets these stupid theories stuck in his head and you have to give him a swift kick in the pants before he'll admit he's wrong."

"I'm familiar with Ron's temper tantrums," Hermione replied dryly. She didn't really want to talk about the redhead. The wounds were still too fresh for her to forgive him instantly.

"Why do you believe me?" she asked. Harry's words had touched her, but she was concerned that Harry was again acting impulsively and hadn't really thought this through. That he had latched onto the idea of her innocence like a drowning man lunging for a life preserver.

The question forced Harry to look at her. He said, "Well, for one thing, you're one of my best friends-"

"You can't believe me just because we're friends!" Hermione cried, rattling her chains in her distress. "Remus and Sirius were friends and that didn't stop them from doubting each other. Peter Pettigrew were your parents' friend and look how that turned out!"

Harry looked taken aback then he seemed bemused. "It's almost like you don't want me to believe you."

"It's not that. I want that more than anything in the world," Hermione said softly. Part of her mind screamed at her to drop the issue and just accept her good fortune, but she needed to know, to understand Harry's reasoning. That was simply who she was.

She said, "I don't think you really believe me. I think you're just desperate and tricked yourself into thinking you do. You said it hurt to see the Dark Mark on my arm. It probably hurts less if you pretend that it's not there." Hermione stretched her arm out to him. "But it is there. You can look for yourself if you want."

"I'm not pretending," Harry said evenly. "You don't know how hard it was. I didn't want to think about you. I wanted to forget you existed. But I couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking about you. Every memory I have of Hogwarts has you in it. Finally, I gave up fighting it. I'm used to pain. Hiding from it doesn't make it go away. It's better to accept it."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said sadly, dropping her arm to her side.

"And... I thought I deserved this pain. I knew I must have done something for you to do this. I knew this had to be my fault sometimes. I must have driven you to it somehow. I couldn't believe I had to find out about it from Malfoy of all people!

"That got me to thinking, you know. Malfoy just happened to use the Severing Charm on you? Why not something nastier if he was going to be stupid enough to attack you in class? It's rather convenient that you were exposed in the most dramatic way possible, isn't it? It was like something that Aunt Petunia would see on her soaps on the telly! And then there was the look on your face when Malfoy cut off your sleeve! Maybe you're one hell of an actress, Hermione, or maybe something weird was going on."

Harry jumped to his feet and started pacing back and forth. "I told myself I was being stupid. All of this was circumstantial. I tried to go to sleep, but those damn questions wouldn't leave me alone! Then I started to wonder why I was ignoring all the evidence that pointed to your innocence. Isn't the evidence of your guilt just as flimsy?"

"That's very logical, Harry," Hermione said, sounding surprised. She really shouldn't have been though. Harry didn't use his analytical skills very often, but he did have them. He figured out the sphinx's riddle in fourth year. He had deduced the location of the Chamber of Secrets and figured out how the basilisk somehow didn't manage to kill anyone in second year. And he had been the one to wonder at the likeliness of Hagrid running into a stranger carrying around a dragon egg back in first year.

"You don't have to sound so surprised."

Hermione blushed. "Sorry. It's just that you're not really the introspective type. You have to admit that."

"A wise witch once told me that most wizards don't have an ounce of logic," Harry said, grinning. "I decided not to be one of them.

"You remember that?" Hermione asked.

"I remember lots of things you've said. And you say I don't listen." His smile faded. "And sometimes I don't. That's why Sirius died. Because I refused to think."

Harry kneeled down by Hermione and put his index finger against her lips to silence her protest. He said, "I don't blame myself anymore, but nothing will change the fact that whether I meant to or not, it was partly my fault. I promised myself that I would never let something like that happen again. I wouldn't let my emotions keep me from thinking."

Leaning forward, he said quietly, "So even though I was angrier than I had ever been in my life, I didn't forget my promise. And I owed you. For so many things, it's not even funny. You believed that I wasn't the Heir of Slytherin. You believed that I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire. You believed that I really did see Voldemort come back and I wasn't just off my rocker. You have always believed me. What kind of person would I be if I didn't even try to do the same for you?"

Hermione wanted to speak, but her throat seemed to have collapsed onto herself. Harry seemed to understand anyway and he gave her arm a squeeze.

"I found myself asking why you would even want to join Voldemort. What would be the point? Power? Money? Let's say you even gave a damn about those things. The Hermione I know would never take a shortcut. She's not afraid of hard work. You could be Minister of Magic if you wanted! Hell, if you wanted to take over the world, you could do it by yourself without some pathetic git like Tom Riddle!"

Hermione had no idea whether to be flattered or not. At last, she said, "You give me a lot of credit."

"No, I'm not," Harry replied firmly. "You're not Wormtail. You're not weak. You are, without a doubt, the smartest person I know. Evil or not, Hermione Granger bows to no one. She doesn't need to."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. She furiously blinked back tears. Just because these were the nicest words anyone had ever said to her, that didn't mean she was going to start bawling like some damsel in distress. She cleared her throat then said, "It was very wonderful of you to come see me, but you should go back to bed. You're welcome to visit later if you'd like."

Harry gave her a quizzical look. "You don't really think I'm just going to leave you here, do you? We're going to find Dumbledore and get this whole mess fixed."

"That's not a good idea, Harry," Hermione said quickly.

"Why not?"

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable waiting for Dumbledore to come back and clear me? I know it's supposed to be innocent until proven guilty and all that, but it's perfectly reasonable to still have some doubts about me."

"I know you're not evil. You just heard me state why!"

Hermione sighed heavily. Why did she always have to play Devil's Advocate? Especially now. But she couldn't let Harry compound one mistake with another. She said, "Everything you've said hangs together well, but they don't really prove anything. I do appreciate you believing me, but releasing a prisoner based on nothing but conjecture and my word? What would Moody say if he saw you doing this?"

Harry peered at her suspiciously. "I get the impression that you think I'm overcompensating for something."

"I believe you believe me. I also believe you feel guilty for doubting me. You shouldn't be! You don't have to prove anything to me. There's nothing wrong with waiting for one hundred percent certainty!"

Harry gave a frustrated growl. "Hermione, I know you're the type of person who needs concrete, solid proof to believe something, but not everyone's like that. I don't need to wait for Dumbledore to tell me what I already know. I may have doubted you, but I never believed you were a Death Eater. I was just scared. But I'm not scared now. I know you and you would never, ever betray me."

"You can't know that! Everyone is capable of evil. Nobody's born evil, they become that way. How can you be so sure that I haven't changed when you weren't paying attention? You're making assumptions. That I'm as strong and as good as you think I am. You seem to think I'm some amazing superwoman, but I'm not. I'm human. It's quite possible that you're completely wrong about me."

"So you're saying that I shouldn't trust anybody? That I shouldn't even trust you?" Harry stated.

Hermione thought of McGonagall. She didn't want Harry to become a recluse unable to trust anybody, but in a war, one had to hold everybody at an arm's length. Harry learned that harsh lesson today. And so had she. So she said the five hardest words of her life. "Yes, that's what I'm saying."

"I think you're being silly," Harry said. "But let's run with this. Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't know you. Maybe you've been playing me for a fool all this time. For all I know, the real Hermione might be someone Voldemort would like on his side. I don't know that much about you. I don't know your parents' names. I don't know what your dreams are. I don't even know what you want to do after we graduate."

"You're right that the sensible thing to do would be leave you here until Dumbledore gets back. Even this attempt to convince me not to let you go could be a trick because you know very well that I'm going to let you go anyway. You're smarter than me after all. Is that what you're getting at?"

Hermione shrugged. She stared calmly at Harry waiting for him either to leave or yell some more. In truth, she had no idea what she was getting at. She just wanted him to stop staring at her like nothing had changed. Everything had changed.

Harry stood up and sighed. He said, "Hermione, you're doing one of those girl things where you don't say what you're really thinking. Well, I'm tired and my brain has never worked that well anyway. Are you still mad at me?"

"No! Yes! I don't know..." Hermione cried in frustration. "It's still good sense though. Get too emotionally attached to someone and you'll get paralyzed when something like this happens." Was she talking about him or herself? She muttered, "And it's not like you trust me all that much anyway."

"I do!" Harry growled.

"Stop saying that! It is one thing to suspect me if you didn't like me that much or you've always been a little suspicious or jealous of me. It's one thing to suspect me if you didn't know me that well and only talked to me in classes like Professor McGonagall.

"I know you mean what you say, but for you to keep telling me that you trust me completely and still think me capable of betraying you... What the hell does that say about me? Some part of you must think it's possible for me to be a Death Eater despite everything. You are the person who knows me best and you may not know my favorite color or whatever, but I'd think you know I'm a better person than that!"

"I made a mistake and I said I'm sorry!" Harry yelled.

"I know you made a mistake! I know you're sorry! I know it's stupid to feel like this, but I can't help it! You keep saying all these wonderful things, but... actions speak louder than words, Harry. At least Ron cared enough to yell at me. You didn't say anything. It's nice to know how much I mean to you!"

Hermione could barely believe the words coming out of her mouth. When had she become such a girl? But it felt very good to say these things. She needed to say them. Ever since she had been thrown in here, she had bottled up her anger and her hurt and she couldn't do it anymore.

Harry stood as still as a statue staring at her. His expression was once again unreadable. After a long, agonizing moment, he pulled his wand out of his robes.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked. It didn't occur to her to be frightened. She trusted Harry completely. When she suddenly realized that, she mentally winced. You're such a hypocrite, she told herself.

Harry spoke a third-level Unlocking Charm and the manacles around Hermione's wrists popped open. He helped a stunned Hermione sit up then he put his wand in her hand and folded her fingers around it. He stood back and spread his arms. "Free shot."

Hermione stared at the wand in her hand. "Come again?"

"If you were really a Death Eater, here's your chance to do away with the great Harry Potter," Harry said, smiling grimly.

"That's not funny," Hermione said, dropping his wand. Harry picked it up and put it back in her hand, this time holding her fist tightly.

"I'm not joking," Harry said quietly. "You want to know what you mean to me? You want to hear how I hid under my bedcovers all day feeling like you had died? Hermione, you have held my life in your hands since I was eleven. I would never have made it this far without you. You know what I was thinking up there? I was thinking that if Voldemort had managed to corrupt you, then there's no hope of me killing him. I might as well give up right now."

Harry moved his face until it was an inch away from Hermione's. He said, "I came here tonight knowing there was a chance that I was the biggest idiot alive. And I didn't care! If you had turned out to be a Death Eater, I would have let you kill me because I refuse to live in a world where you are evil."

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. Harry's words finally pierced the wall she didn't even know was there. Ironically, it wasn't his logic that convinced her, but his reckless, irrational faith in her. He didn't trust her because it made sense or because he couldn't face the alternative. He trusted her because he chose to of his own free will, regardless of the consequences.

There was only one way to respond to such vulnerability. She locked eyes with the Boy Who Lived and said firmly, "I am not going to kill you."

"I know," Harry said. "That's how much I trust you." Then he did something he had never done before. He enveloped her in a hug.

Hermione broke down crying. To hell with looking strong. Tears streamed down her face easing the tightness in her chest. Depending on Harry like this, trusting him like this, opened both him and her up to the possibility of more pain in the future, but she felt safe like this and she was willing to take that risk. She allowed the pain she had been holding back to flow out of her while Harry rubbed her back and murmured, "It's okay... ssh... it's okay..."

She flung her arms around him and squeezed him tightly.

"Er... need... to... breathe..." Harry gasped.

"Sorry," Hermione said, releasing her grip slightly.

"I always knew your hugs were a diabolical method to murder me," Harry said with a smirk.

Hermione giggled. "You've caught me."

They stared at each other and there was no need to say anything. They both knew that they had said all that had to be said.

"Are you ready to go then?" Harry asked.

"Do you really think the Ministry's just going to tell us where Dumbledore is?"

Harry gave her a disarming grin. He said, "I am Harry Potter. I think I still have some influence."

It was probably going to be a little more complicated than that, but her heart felt so light that she didn't care. With Harry's help, she left a short note for Professor McGonagall. It wouldn't take a genius to figure that with both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley gone, Hermione Granger wouldn't be far behind, but she didn't want people thinking she had kidnapped them! They were going to think that anyway, of course. She hoped that McGonagall would give her the benefit of the doubt and only inform the Order and not the Ministry.

She followed Harry out the door and saw, like Harry said, Ron sitting against the wall with his wand dimly lit. Harry patiently held up the Invisibility Cloak while Hermione and Ron stared at each other.

Ron made the first move. He got to his feet and rubbed his arms nervously. He said, "About the things I've said-"

"Forget it," Hermione said quickly.

"No, not this time. I was a git. I should have at least heard you out before I started throwing accusations at you. I really am sorry," Ron said.

He really did look sorry. Hermione knew that she would need to have her own private talk with Ron later to clear the air, but for the moment, it was enough to have him standing there waiting for her. She said, "It's okay. We're okay."

Ron gave her a shrewd look then asked hesitantly, "Are we really?"

Hermione gave the question serious thought. She said slowly, "No, not completely." She looked over at Harry then back at Ron. "But we will be."

Harry flung the Cloak over them and the three of them walked off into the night.

Author's Notes

I've read many stories about Hermione being 'caught' as a traitor and everyone turning against her. This story was inspired from a particularly bad `Hermione is caught with the Dark Mark' fanfic. Most of the time, we're simply told that all of Hermione's friends turned against her without being told why they're so quick to believe badly of her or being shown them having any doubts whatsoever on her guilt, and the results seems a little far-stretched. It's usually because the author needs Hermione to be ostracized in order to drive the plot and the characters have to be prevented from thinking too much about it at all costs.

This is not intended to disparage the well-written betrayal stories, of course, but I had to write a response. I wanted to explore the nature of betrayal in a more realistic manner. It's not simple. One doesn't just switch from like to hate in a heartbeat. It's much more painful and dirty than that. There are reasons to doubt anyone, but that's entirely different from writing them off.

The second main reason I wrote this was that I felt Harry often got the short end of the stick in these types of stories. Hermione's loyalty to Harry is rarely called into question. The reverse, however, is not true. Apparently, Harry will drop Hermione like a bad habit without even a second thought if he believes she has become evil. I hate that. I believe that despite his trust issues once Harry Potter becomes your friend, he's your friend for life. He won't just give up on you and leave you to rot. His intense loyalty to Hagrid, Sirius, and others leaves no doubt in my mind on that score. Why would Hermione be any different?

Before I go, I want to give a big THANKS! to my beta reader hearingdr from Portkey.org for checking my grammar and giving me encouragement in general.

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It is more shameful to distrust one's friends than to be deceived by them.

-Duc De Francois La Rochefoucald, French writer

Hermione had been a fugitive for all of five minutes and so far she didn't like it. She had snuck around the castle with Harry and Ron dozens of times, but she had never felt so jumpy. Every squeak and rustle she heard made her tremble. Her heart was going to leap out of her chest any moment now.

She was also acutely aware that her best friends were breaking the rules and the law for her. This wasn't for Harry's or Hagrid's sake, but for hers. Harry and Ron would have been taking a huge risk if they were simply helping an ordinary prisoner escape, but sneaking out a suspected Death Eater was something else entirely. They could end up in Azkaban! Hopefully, they would have cells next to hers. Hermione tried to shake off her certain glumness.

The trio paused for a minute while Harry consulted the Marauder's Map, and Hermione took a quick moment to pull up her right sleeve. She felt an irrational stab of disappointment when she saw that the Mark was still there. It looked like she would have to throw out her short-sleeved shirts unless she wanted everyone to know that she was now part of a cult of rapists, serial killers, and madmen.

Hermione felt a wave of nausea pass through her. She had the sudden urge to peel the skin off her arm. She couldn't bear being associated with these monsters. Why should she have to go through her life fearful of being exposed for something she wasn't? It wasn't fair!

She looked over at Harry and felt ashamed. If anyone had cause to complain about the fairness of life, it was him. Yet despite everything, he was still a wonderful human being. And he was a true friend. She would treasure the memory of him hugging her after he released her from her chains forever.

They stopped again when they made it outside the castle. Hermione took a deep breath of the fresh evening air then she looked around to see what they were standing around for. She gasped when she saw what Harry pulled out from the bushes.

"Harry! Those are illegal!" she whispered fiercely. Then she blushed when she realized what she just said.

Harry gave her an amused glance as he finished unrolling the Persian carpet. He said, "I confiscated this from a sixth-year who was showing off to his friends. He said he borrowed it from his dad's collection. I told him I'd give it back at the end of term."

Hypocrisy or not, she had to say something. "You can't give it back! I'm not saying you should turn him in, but flying carpets are banned in Great Britain."

"Emphasis on flying. It's only illegal if the guy's dad was actually intending to fly the thing," Ron cut in with a sly grin. "My father wrote the law you know."

Hermione couldn't help smiling at that, but then she remembered how she came to be here and her smile faded. She and Ron stared at each other uncomfortably until Harry nervously cleared his throat.

They got on the carpet and then they were off. Harry cast a warming bubble around them and Hermione was forcibly reminded that she no longer had her wand, and there was no way she could save herself if she fell off the side.

Harry seemed to know what she was thinking. He whispered, "I wouldn't let you fall."

"I know," Hermione replied softly. As much she would have liked to see where this conversation would lead, her eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the redhead staring out at the stars with his knees against his chest. She needed to know.

Harry followed her eyes and nodded slightly. "I'll let you two talk. I need to take a nap anyway. I didn't get any sleep today unlike you. I can't believe you fell asleep in the dungeons."

"Because there was so much down there to occupy my attention," Hermione replied dryly. "I must speak with Professor Snape about improving the décor."

"It took being falsely accused, but you're finally lightening up," Harry replied shaking his head and smiling. "Wake me when we get there." With a tap of the wand to his head, he was asleep.

Harry looked so peaceful that Hermione had the sudden urge to ruffle his hair. She shook it off then slowly made her way over to Ron's side. They sat in silence for awhile and when it became clear that he wasn't going to acknowledge her, she said quietly, "Ron."

"Do we really have to do this?" Ron asked sounding weary. "You're not going to like what I have to say."

You were our friend, Hermione! How could you do this? Did he offer you knowledge? That was always your weakness. Is that why you helped Harry in the TriWizard Tournament? You and Krum were probably working together! Did you help Harry get into the Chamber of Secrets so You-Know-Who could kill him? Were you just pretending the whole time?

It was a little too late for that. She didn't see how anything else he said could be worse. She said, "Yeah, we do. What you said really hurt me. But it wasn't entirely because you thought I was a traitor. I can understand that. I don't like it, but I can understand that. You'd think being a Muggle-born would eliminate me from suspicion, but I know there are quislings in every war. But what I don't understand is..."

Hermione hesitated. She had a great deal of time to turn Ron's words over in her head and to torture herself with them. Maybe she was reading things that weren't there, but there was an implication in his words that made her stomach squirm.

"What I don't understand is that you seem to think I'm a coward."

Ron didn't reply and he still wouldn't look at her. Hermione stared at him sadly then continued, "Even Harry, the person I supposedly betrayed, believed that if I was a Death Eater I would at least confront him directly before turning him over to Voldemort. But in the two instances you brought up, I was nowhere nearby. I can understand you believing me evil, but I can not accept that you think I'm the type of person who wouldn't even stay around to look Harry in the eye while I put the knife in his back. That I would sit back in my comfy armchair after I sent Harry scurrying off to the Chamber or the labyrinth so I wouldn't get my hands dirty. After everything we've been through-"

"That's just it," Ron interrupted, turning to face her for the first time. "We haven't been through all that much. It's always been you and Harry! You and Harry snuck out Norbert, rescued Sirius, saw Grawp, and fought together in the Department of Mysteries. The only real adventure we've all been on was in first year and what I remember is you looking for firewood while we were trapped in the Devil's Snare!"

"What's your point?" Hermione asked taken aback.

"My point is that I've never gotten to see you be all that brave. Hearing about it from Harry afterwards isn't the same and the bloke's a bit biased when it comes to you if you haven't noticed. Oh, you're stubborn enough to stand up to the likes of Trelawny and Umbridge, but you panic when things get really hairy."

"It's nice to see that you have such a low opinion of me," Hermione said stiffly.

Ron ran a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. "I'm just telling you my thought process, okay? I'm not insulting you. I'm not saying that you can't be brave at times, just... Look, what you are is smart. That's your thing. If you could come up with a way to throw Harry to the wolves without having to see the end result I could see that happening. I mean, you jinxed the DA list fifth year without telling any of us. And you turned in Harry's Firebolt without even talking to him about it first!"

"That was in third year!" Hermione protested angrily.

"My point still stands," Ron replied. "If you were a traitor, you'd be indirect about it. It wouldn't be personal for you. You wouldn't have to see Harry die. You'd just have to know that it happened. Can't you understand why that made me so mad? To think that my best friend had even less honor than You-Know-Who?"

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. She tried to objectively consider Ron's points and to her dismay, she found some merit to them. She still felt like socking the boy though. In a tense voice, she said, "So you don't think I'm a coward. You just think I'm sneaky and underhanded."

"Yes!" Ron said sounding relieved. Then noticing Hermione's reddening face, he held up both hands in a warding gesture and said, "Damn it, Hermione, those aren't necessarily bad things to be! Your sneakiness has helped us make Polyjuice and kept Harry from being hit with the Cruciatus Curse. And you kept the secret of your Time Turner from us for an entire year! Are you going to tell me that you're not sneaky?"

Hermione grudgingly conceded the point with a terse nod. She crossed her arms and glared at the patterns on the carpet. In a certain light, many of the actions she had taken for the greater good could be seen as conniving. But her motives had always been good. Still, it wouldn't take much of a leap for someone to see her actions as indicative of a malignant character.

A thought occurred to her. She peered suspiciously at Ron and said, "Those are rather complex thoughts for someone who only had thirty seconds to absorb the situation. What are you not telling me?"

"I was afraid you were going to ask that," Ron said with a sigh. He shifted to face her completely then spread his hands with a shrug. "You know that I've always been jealous of Harry. So you shouldn't be surprised that I was also jealous of you. For being smarter than me, for being a better friend to Harry, and a dozen other things."

He raised a hand to stop Hermione's protest. "I know that it's stupid. I know that Harry's life is hell on earth and that I'm not competing with you for anything. I'm an ungrateful bastard about what I have and I should know better, but logic doesn't make the feelings go away. It doesn't work like that!"

"So for years you've resented Harry and me?" Hermione asked faintly.

Ron sighed heavily again. "No, I don't lie in bed at night thinking about what horrible people you are but sometimes after we've had a row I'd grumble about how arrogant and controlling you can be. How your constant need to be right is the most annoying thing in the world. How Spew, sorry, S.P.E.W is a perfect example of how you can care more about a cause than for people's feelings.

"When I stop being angry, I feel bad about thinking such things about my friends, but that doesn't mean those thoughts aren't still there somehow. You can't tell me that you've never thought about what an insensitive git I can be so you understand what I mean. So when I saw that Mark all those horrible, awful thoughts came bursting out. Harry was just another damn project to you. A means to an end. He didn't matter to you as a person at all."

Hermione reared back like she had been slapped. Trembling with repressed rage, she asked, "How dare you think even for a second that I wouldn't give a damn about Harry?"

"I suppose it was in the same second when I believed you were capable of being a Death Eater," Ron said unflinchingly. Then a note of sorrow entered into his voice. "I had to think that. There's no way I could have handled the thought that you betrayed us and that you actually cared about us at one point. Harry and his 'saving people thing' would make him believe he caused you to do this. I had to believe that you never cared in the first place."

Ron stared at his hands. He said softly, "I know you don't think I use my brain most of the time, but I want you to know that I had reasons for doubting you. It wasn't just a spur of the moment thing. I know that's a strange kind of apology, but I think you would prefer knowing that than believing that I blew my stack just on impulse."

Hermione let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. She didn't know what to say. Harry had feared that he had driven her into being evil. Ron seemed to think that she had always had a potential for it deep down. A part of her wished that Ron had been acting purely out of irrational anger. That was something she was used to from the redhead and could have gotten over. She knew Ron had trust issues (probably stemming from when Fred and George turned his teddy bear into a spider), but this...

The worst part was, objectively, Ron had justification for believing her to be a traitor. She was vastly ambitious, maybe too much. She had little trouble making ends justify the means when the situation called for it. It was a wonder that the Sorting Hat never considered her for Slytherin.

Ron was right about another thing. Logic didn't change anything. Ron hadn't trusted her. This was different from him believing she was a cackling criminal mastermind. He distrusted her because of actual aspects of her character. How could she not be insulted by that?

Hermione closed her eyes wishing that this horrible day had never happened. She said, "Ron, I'm not going to tell you that I'm okay with this. I'm incredibly hurt right now. I appreciate you being brave enough to tell me this, but I'm feeling inclined to push you off this carpet right now. In the interest of fairness though, I realize that obviously something happened between then and now that I should know about. So what made you change your mind?"

Ron gave a hollow laugh and looked at her with pained eyes. He replied, "What changed my mind? I guess you could say it was habit. Usually, after we yell at each other I go stomp and rage until I calm down. Then I'll realize that I was an ass and that you were right as always and while I certainly won't apologize maybe I should go do my homework in front of you as a peace offering."

"The inner workings of the mind of Ron Weasley terrify me," Hermione teased gently. She was still upset, but she couldn't bear seeing him so miserable.

Ron gave her a tentative smile then said, "This time I realized that I would probably never see you again. That just hit me, you know? My dad told me something once. You don't become friends with someone despite their flaws. You accept them, warts and all. I was so busy focusing on all of your negatives, I forgot why we were friends in the first place. You're a great person, Hermione. Better than me. You always have been. You know it. I know it. Heck, Harry never had any doubts, especially after fourth year. You love rules, but you have always kept our secrets. I don't think you have a disloyal bone in your body.

"I said earlier that I thought that it wouldn't be personal for you, that you were some kind of emotionless monster. I decided that I was wrong." Ron sat motionless for a long moment then asked, "Do you remember the troll?"

Hermione blinked at the non sequitur. She asked, "How could I forget?"

She was surprised at the fondness in her voice. It was strange but she looked back at that incident with a certain amount of nostalgia. It was when her life changed for the better after all and when she begun to believe that she had a place at Hogwarts. She wasn't doomed to a life of loneliness.

"I called you a nightmare," Ron said, looking a little sheepish. "But Harry saw something in you that I didn't. And it wasn't until you lied to McGonagall for us that I saw it too. I don't care what kind of person you are. After what happened, you have to give a damn one way or the other about us. You've deceived and hidden things from us before, but you've never outright lied to us. I trust in the Trio and I trust that if you had really hated us, you would have told us at some point. Especially when you got caught. You'd want us to know why you did it. Because there's you, me, and Harry then there's the rest of the world. And that's how it's always been. Even if you were evil, we would still be the most important people in your life. You would have told us."

"It can't be that simple for you," Hermione said, touched by the depth of feeling the Ron was displaying. Was this the same Weasley she accused of having the emotional range of a teaspoon?

"I'm a simple guy. Black and white thinking and all that. I decided that it was more shameful for me to distrust you than for you to deceive me. If I was wrong about you, then I threw away seven years of friendship. If I was right, then at least I'd have a clear conscience." Ron traced a circle on the fabric with his finger. He said hoarsely, "I know being sorry never changes anything, but I am sorry. Hermione, I didn't let a stupid tattoo stop me from being your best friend. It's just that I thought that you stopped being mine."

"I'd never stop being your friend," Hermione said with no hesitation. She reached out and squeezed his arm gently.

"Even now?" Ron asked with a hint of disbelief. "After all the horrible stuff I've told you?"

"Even now," Hermione said with a reassuring smile. "You may be a paranoid, selfish, jealous jerk of a friend, but you're my paranoid, selfish, jealous jerk of a friend. You've said and done many stupid things to me over the years, but you're a good person and my life would be poorer not having known you. You're my friend, Ron, warts and all."

Ron's eyes were suspiciously bright. He turned his head away and rubbed them quickly muttering, "Damn allergies."

Hermione laughed and hugged him. To reject Ron or Harry would be to reject a part of herself. It might seem awfully co-dependent to an outsider, but she didn't know how to be Hermione without the two of them. That was the truth for better or worse.

There were still wounds between them that only time could heal, but they would be okay. She wouldn't allow them to be otherwise.

~*~

Hermione gazed around the run-down street with some interest. The vandalized telephone booth appeared the same as the last time she saw it. There was new graffiti on the walls behind the broken dumpster and all of the surrounding offices appeared to be closed, which would certainly make their mission easier. She drifted toward the dumpster trying to dredge up the bit of information that was niggling at her brain about this place.

Harry and Ron came over to her having successfully Disillusioned the carpet. Ron turned to Harry with an expectant air and asked, "So how do you want to get in? Going through the visitor's entrance might not be the best idea you know."

Harry rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He replied, "I didn't really think this far. I was a little bit more concerned about leaving the dungeons alive. Er, no offense, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. And she thought that Ron lacked tact. Bemused, she said, "None taken. I suppose that I'll have to be responsible for the planning portion of proving my innocence?"

Ron snorted. "Like you would have it any other way."

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at the redhead before she turned to Harry and said, "Since we can't get in through any of the obvious methods, we need to go through the equivalent of the back door. If I remember correctly, the Ministry should have an emergency exit for when mass escapes are needed and they don't want to clog up the fireplaces. It's in the blueprints."

"That's a bit of a security leak, isn't it?" Ron asked slowly.

Hermione shrugged. "Not really. Unless somebody's really into reading Design and Construction of British Wizarding Landmarks."

"You mean like you?" Harry asked, obviously trying and failing to hide his grin.

"Anyway," Hermione said with a sniff. "I don't think that it's ever been used. Obviously, anything strong enough to cut off the magical transportation systems would also shatter the Apparation wards and you could just get out that way."

"Thank goodness for bureaucracy," Harry muttered. He looked at Hermione, then at the dumpster, and seemed to arrive at the same conclusion she had. He rolled up his sleeves then said, "Ron, help me push this out of the way."

Ron gave him an amused look. "Or we could do this. Wingardium Leviosa!" The dumpster rose and wobbled a few feet down the alley.

Harry's ears turned red. "Yes, that would work as well."

Hermione squeezed his shoulder as she walked by and whispered, "Don't feel bad. I didn't think of it either. Once a Muggle and all that, right?"

Harry smiled gratefully at her.

Under the dirt and grime, there was the faint outline of a trap door. If one wasn't specifically looking for it, they could easily overlook it. A quick unsealing spell and five minutes later, they were down the stairs and walking through a very narrow and very dusty tunnel.

Ron was biting his lip and his hands were fidgeting. "Looks like the cleaning crew missed a few spots," he said with a forced laugh.

"Don't worry, Ron, I don't think there are too many spiders," Hermione said with a mischievous smirk. Just because she forgave him didn't mean she wasn't going to make him pay for his stinging words.

"You mean like the one on your shoulder?" Harry asked from behind her.

Hermione jumped and brushed frantically at her robes. She asked, "Did I get it?" Then she saw Harry trying to contain his sniggering with his hand.

"You prat!" Hermione cried. She took a swipe at him which Harry easily dodged then he and Ron laughed at her.

Hermione's lips curved into a small grin, but she quickly made it vanish. She was pleased that her friends felt comfortable enough with her to tease her but she wasn't about to tell them that!

The three of them soon came upon a metal door. Hermione took a deep breath. This was it. She gestured for Harry to cover them with the Cloak. Then she took on a haughty tone she knew from experience would convey how serious she was to the boys. It also annoyed the hell out of them, but at least they were paying attention. She said, "Now that everyone's awake, this is what we need to do. We have to find the Records Office without being seen."

She opened the door and squinted at the bright light. A narrow, austere hallway was in front of them with doors spaced apart every ten feet. They slowly walked to the end watching carefully for anyone to suddenly step out of an office. The floorboards on this level squeaked every so often and they'd freeze in place for a few terse seconds before moving on again.

The snail-like pace obviously frustrated Ron. He whispered, "I don't see why we need all the secrecy. If anyone asks, we could say we're here to see my dad. Nobody in their right minds would think that Hermione kidnapped us and took us to the Ministry!"

Hermione stomped on his foot and hissed, "Ssh!"

Ron was probably right. Even if McGonagall had called in her escape, no one outside Auror Headquarters would even know what was going on, but there was no point taking unnecessary risks. Still, even she breathed a deep sigh of relief when after twists and turns that seemed to go on forever, they finally saw the sign that told them they had arrived at their destination.

Office of Records and Administrative Files

Hermione quickly outlined the rest of her plan. Ron gave her a resigned glare then walked off grumbling that she had a strange definition of forgiveness treating him like this. Harry merely nodded then left the confines of the Invisibility Cloak leaving her under it by herself.'

Harry twisted the doorknob and let himself inside. Hermione quietly followed him inside. The room was sparse and filled with rows of plain wooden desks. One file cabinet sat in a dark corner in the back. Considering the tricks that wizards could play with spatial dimensions, the single cabinet was probably all that was needed. Everyone seemed to have gone home for the night except for one.

Harry walked up to the desk where a sleepy-looking young woman sat scribbling on some parchment. Her nametag said Gladys. He said politely, "Hello, madam. I need a copy of my fifth year hearing file. I know that it's after hours, but I was hoping that you could help me."

An annoyed expression came over the woman's face. She pushed up her glasses with a finger then looked up at Harry. She suddenly looked like she was about to go into epileptic shock.

Hermione slammed a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

"Mis… mister Potter!" Gladys stammered. "I never expected... My word! If I had known you were coming... Er, how can I help you, sir?"

Harry patiently repeated his request. Unfortunately, as star-struck as the woman was, she seemed torn over helping him. She was clearly about to refuse when Harry quickly grabbed Gladys's hand and brought it to his lips.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

Apparently invoking the memory of Gilderoy Lockhart, Harry smiled widely and leaned over the desk toward a dreamily smiling Gladys. He said in a low baritone, "I know a clearly dedicated woman such as yourself would never dream of breaking the rules, but I hope you understand that I have a sensitive situation and I would rather that the Daily Prophet not get wind of it. Celebrities such as myself have to be careful you know. That's why I couldn't come in during regular business hours."

Gladys nodded wisely. She said, "Legal troubles, isn't it? I get a lot of those. Well, I suppose I can make a tiny exception just this once. I mean, you're Harry Potter!"

Harry's smile grew wider. He said, "You have no idea how much this means to me. Let me give you a couple autographs as a sign of my appreciation." The two continued to chat while Gladys took down his information. He still hadn't released her hand.

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or seethe at Harry's, for lack of a better word, flirtation. He's just acting, she told herself with gritted teeth. He had better be! She blinked at her thoughts. When had she gotten so possessive? And why was she?

But she snapped back into focus when she saw Gladys pull a leather-bound tome from her desk. Hermione quickly maneuvered herself behind the woman and watched as Gladys placed her palm on top of the front cover and the book glowed then there was a click before it opened.

Hermione's heart sank. As she had expected, the book required fingerprint verification. The plan was hinged on Ron's success then.

Gladys said in a crisp tone, "Search parameters: Potter, Harry James. Parents: Potter, James and Potter, Lily neé Evans. Birth date: July 31, 1980. Aliases: Boy-Who-Lived. Find: August 1995 disciplinary hearing. Key words: Ministry of Magic vs. Harry James Potter, Decree of Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, International Statue of Secrecy."

Lines of black, flowing script surfaced onto the blank pages. Gladys quickly Duplicated them and handed the copy to Harry. She said, "Here you are, Mister Potter. If there is anything more I can do for you then you need only ask."

It may have been her imagination but Hermione could have sworn the Gladys winked. No, that was not a come-on! I am not that paranoid! I will not club that woman to death with the book. It might damage the book. Focus!

She watched Harry thank the young woman then started walking toward the door. The timing at this point was critical. Hermione held her breath hoping Ron would show before Gladys closed the book. She didn't want to have to resort to Stunning or Memory Charming the woman since that would probably set off all types of alarms, but she'd do it if necessary.

The door flung open and a green-hued Ron ran in with his right hand clapped over his mouth.

"Young man, what are doing... Oh, Merlin!"

Gladys stumbled out of her seat and pressed herself against the back wall as Ron started throwing up slugs.

Harry quickly intervened. He grabbed Ron's arm and said, "We need to get him to a doctor! Gladys, I need your help!"

"But... but... slugs..." Gladys replied weakly. Then seeming to remember who she was talking to, she straightened up and said, "Oh, all right. We'll take him to Medical. Give me a moment." She made a half-turn toward her desk.

As if on cue, Ron vomited another pile of slimy, oozing slugs at Gladys's feet. She shuddered and practically ran around to Harry's other side. They quickly left the room.

Hermione smirked. How's that for sneaky? And Ron thought she didn't know how to have fun. She didn't know how, but she could have sworn that Ron had glared directly at her.

She sat down at the desk still wearing the Invisibility Cloak and stared at the book a little nervously. She had gotten a sense of how the archives were set up so hopefully, she knew what she was doing because she didn't have much time.

"Search parameters: Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian," Hermione began. She didn't know the names of headmaster's parents or his date of birth, but that shouldn't matter. There was no way in the world that there was more than one Albus P.W.B Dumbledore! The next command was just an educated guess on her part. She said, "Find: Most recent update."

Travel arrangements, a map, and an itinerary quickly filled the pages in front of her. She read the pages as quickly as she could. Without her wand, she would have to rely on her memory to retain all the information.

She was halfway down the guest list for the meeting that Dumbledore and Snape were attending when her eyes stumbled over a name and came to a dead stop.

Lucius Malfoy.

What the he-

Hermione's head whipped around at the sound of approaching footsteps. She looked at the book in panic. Did she have everything read? Yes. Did she know how to reset the book? Oh, crap.

"Go back!" Hermione whispered frantically. "Find the last entry! Look, I don't know the proper commands, but I know that you understand me and I'm not asking for anything complex. Just please go back to the entry on Harry Potter!"

The pages shimmered and the words Ministry of Magic vs. Harry James Potter appeared.

Hermione blinked in surprise. She had hoped that like many magical objects, the book would be semi-aware, but she hadn't really expected her pleads to work. But there was no time to ponder the manner. She crept over to a corner just as the door swung open.

It was only Ron and Harry.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, feeling both relieved and frustrated. "You were supposed to wait for me in the infirmary!"

"Change of plans," Harry replied tersely. "We had the misfortune of running into Moody on the way up. I think we have a few minutes before the Aurors get here. We managed to lose him a couple floors back."

"The guy's pretty fast for someone with a wooden leg," Ron said with a queasy grin.

Why couldn't things ever be simple? Hermione bit her lip as she glanced around the room for a means of escape. There was no fireplace and the wards made Apparation out of the question. There was one option then. She muttered, "I'm already a wanted criminal. What's one more crime?"

Hermione grabbed a quill off the desk, borrowed Harry's wand, visualized the coordinates in her mind and the activation time, and then said, "Portus."

Ron and Harry looked at the quill uncertainly.

"No, it's not taking you directly into the hands of Voldemort!" Hermione snapped.

"I wasn't thinking that!" Ron snapped back. "I was questioning your Portkey skills! I've never seen you make one before."

"Oh... okay then," Hermione said unsure if she should still be angry or not. "Sorry."

She turned to Harry to apologize only to see him turn away with a hurt expression... and a guilty look?

What had Harry been thinking? Was Ron lying to her?

No, she couldn't think like that! She couldn't analyze every move her friends made trying to figure out what they really thought of her. That way led to madness.

Harry probably had been thinking the same thing as Ron and even if he hadn't been...

She swallowed hard. It wasn't fair to resent them for wondering. It was human and completely uncontrollable. When someone stood on top of a building, they would often get the urge to jump off. That didn't mean they really wanted to kill themselves or even meant to think such a thing. It was just a thought they couldn't help but think. The product of random sparks between brain cells that resulted in irrational feelings.

It was normal. He didn't mean it.

But she couldn't bring herself to ask. And in the space of one instant, there was a wall between her and them again and the camaraderie of the last few hours seemed remote.

God, she hated Voldemort so much for that.

At last, with a lump in her throat, she said, "Thank you for everything. I'm sure I can take it-"

Harry's hand shot out and took hold of a feather. He said gruffly, "Don't be ridiculous. Adventures aren't done alone you know. What would you do without us?"

Hermione was so touched that she decided not to point out that Harry usually ended up by himself at some point in their adventures. It was the sentiment that counted after all.

"Besides, it wouldn't be proper to let a lady ride into danger while the chaps stayed behind. Think of the scandal!" Ron said with a playful grin.

Hermione wanted to hug them and tell them how much she loved them both, but she had the feeling (judging from their rigid, exaggeratedly masculine postures) that Harry and Ron couldn't take any more displays of emotion this evening.

Boys can be so silly, Hermione thought with deep affection before they were all whirled away.

~*~

When her sight came back, Hermione quickly glanced around looking for some sign that they were where they were supposed to be. They only had minutes before the Ministry traced them, so they had to get to Dumbledore before that happened. She found herself and her friends in the middle of an empty conference room.

"I'm sure that you're all tired after your journey. Would any of you care for a lemon drop?" a deep voice asked from the left corner of the room.

Okay, maybe the room wasn't quite as empty as she thought.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the Headmaster and asked, "Were you expecting us or do you make a habit of sitting in empty conference rooms?"

She blushed when she realized that she may have been a little too cheeky. To her relief, Dumbledore chuckled then he replied, "After Professor McGonagall contacted me, I knew it was only a matter of time before you met up with me. I must commend the three of you on your resourcefulness."

"And how did you know that we would come here?" Hermione asked.

"I presumed that Misters Potter and Weasley would wish to prove your innocence," Dumbledore replied, his gaze never leaving Hermione's eyes.

Something in the way he said those words caused her to bristle.

"Not you too," Hermione said softly.

Dumbledore looked apologetic. "I'm sure you understand my position. The Order of the Phoenix can not afford to take chances in these dark times."

He rose from his seat and strode toward Hermione only to find his way blocked by Harry and Ron. They looked incredibly nervous but stood defiant against him.

Dumbledore looked surprised then chagrined. He said, sounding sheepish, "Perhaps I sounded more ominous than I intended. Be at ease. I have no intention of harming Hogwarts' best student, but I must look at the evidence for myself. Miss Granger, if you would so kindly pull up your sleeve."

Hermione reluctantly bared her arm and revealed the inky black skull that was ruining her life.

The Headmaster adjusted his spectacles to get a better look then he gave a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped. He said morosely, "It is authentic. I had hoped..."

Hermione felt a rush of panic. Had he already decided her fate? She asked anxiously, "Professor, shouldn't you check my thoughts first or something? There's no need to be hasty here!"

"I have already done so," Dumbledore informed her. "A surface gaze of your thoughts reveal no duplicity, but your mental discipline is renowned, Miss Granger, and not something to be underestimated. I'm afraid a more in-depth scan is required before I can say anything with certainty. I need your permission to shift through your entire mind."

The emphasis was not lost on Hermione. She bit her lip nervously at the implications. It was one thing to let Dumbledore check if she was lying or had been Memory Charmed, but quite another to allow the man to see every private thought and emotion. She suddenly had much sympathy for what Harry went through with his Occlumency lessons. Her situation was worse though because she didn't have the option of kicking Dumbledore out of her mind when it became too invasive. But what was the alternative?

"Okay," she said meekly. She made a move to step forward and Harry moved to block her.

"No, this isn't right," Harry said. He turned to Dumbledore. "She shouldn't have to do this. It's not fair. What happened to innocent until proven guilty and all that? The tattoo doesn't prove anything!"

"And you would have me risk the lives in the Order and countless others on that belief?" Dumbledore asked, tilting his head slightly.

"There is no risk because she's not a Death Eater!" Harry yelled stubbornly.

He looked like he was about to jump on the old man, so Hermione pulled him back. She grabbed his shoulders and said sharply, "Harry, where's the clear thinking you showed me earlier? There's another aspect here that you haven't considered. Professor Dumbledore is not just checking to see if I'm a Death Eater or not. He's looking for how I got the Mark in the first place. Isn't that worth knowing? We obviously have a hole in our defenses if Voldemort can just stroll in and brand anyone he wants. If that's the case, we need that information."

"I just don't want you to think that if you didn't do this, we'd think less of you," Harry said sounding helpless.

Hermione pulled Harry into a tight hug. She said, "That's so sweet, Harry, but I need to do this. It's nice that you don't need proof, but I don't like the what-ifs. You trust me, but not the way you did before all this happened. Now, whether you want to or not you're asking yourself if I'm going to be the cause of your death before the day is over. You shouldn't have to wonder. Trusting me shouldn't have to be a risk. You used to be able to look at me and not have to wonder if you're being stupid about me. I want that again."

Hermione suddenly remembered that they had an audience and swiveled her head toward the others. Ron was staring intently out a window with a look of embarrassment on his face while Dumbledore appeared to be meditating.

She gently released Harry then cleared her throat. "I'm ready."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, opening his eyes and sitting down at the table. "Please sit down and clear your mind as best as you can. I need you keep constant eye contact with me. You may blink, but do not turn away. What I'm doing is the equivalent of surgery as I slowly peel back each of your mental layers." He looked at Harry and Ron and said sternly, "There are to be no interruptions."

Dumbledore looked into Hermione's eyes and said, "Legilimency."

As the images flashed through her mind, Hermione thought for one shining instant that everything would be okay. Then a shadow passed through her mind and she realized...

Hermione watched in frozen fascination as Dumbledore fell from his chair with an agonizing groan. His complexion grew grey and his chest stopped moving.

Harry and Ron stared at her in horror.

To be continued...

~*~

Author's Notes:

Once again, thanks to hearingdr for taking time out of her busy schedule to help me.

YHABM had always been intended to be a oneshot, but popular demand has inspired me to tie up my loose ends and solve the mystery. I'm a little worried though since sequels are usually not considered as good as the original. And now that I find that I have to write another 'final' chapter, I'm worried about middle-episode syndrome! But I'm proud of how this chapter came out and I'm willing to take that risk.

I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, but with my finals and Christmas break coming up, I'll probably won't see you all until we've reached the new year. So I guess my gift to you is agonizing suspense. Enjoy.

Happy Holidays!

-->

It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

-Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts Headmaster

[These are Hermione's thoughts.]

[These are Dumbledore's thoughts.]

AN: This has been one wild ride and I am both relieved and sad that it's over. It is always a joy to stretch oneself beyond one's limits and I hope to continue to do so. Once again, I am indebted to hearingdr for catching the numerous grammatical errors that my keen eyes somehow missed. My keen, astigmatic eyes... But enough of my rambling. On with the finale!

And now the conclusion...

Dumbledore looked into Hermione's eyes and said, "Legilimens."

She was six, being pushed into the dirt by a bully and sobbing... She was eight, and she and her parents watched in wonder as pencils and pens floated around the room... She was eleven, and she had just received her Hogwarts letter and she finally understood... She came sobbing out of a bathroom stall when she heard a rumbling and looked up... She was running toward Harry through the Great Hall... Her hand stung from striking Malfoy, but she felt wonderful as well... Grawp's giant hand came at them and Harry pushed her out of the way... A purple beam of light struck her in the chest... Harry breaking down in her arms about Sirius... She stared at the black skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue on her arm and felt her mind go into shock...

Stop. Go back.

The memory paused then slowly moved backwards. Her sleeve jumped back onto her robe... Malfoy backed away from the Trio... She and Harry sat back in their seats... Professor Glass left the classroom... She lazily propped her head up with her elbow, watching Harry and Ron argue about Quidditch... She was backing into Gryffindor Tower...

Wait, that can't be right...

You are correct. You are missing approximately twenty minutes from when you left the tower to when you entered the classroom.

Yeah, that's quite disturbing in itself, but I see another problem. Where are Harry and Ron? I would never leave for class without them.

Are you certain that you are leaving for class then?

What do you mean, Professor?

Give me a moment and I will show you. Someone with extraordinary skill has laid this Memory Charm on you. By removing only twenty minutes, this tampering would have gone unnoticed by anyone not skilled in Legilimency. Fortunately, because it is so subtle, it's not very difficult to break. Ah, I think I have it...

Professor, I don't feel good about this...

Everything will be fine, Miss Granger. Let's begin...

Hermione walked rapidly though the hallway. She was worried about why Professor Glass had told her to meet him a half hour before Defense class began. It was possible that she was being called for something good, but the worrier in her couldn't help wondering if she had done something wrong. And to top it off, Harry and Ron's antics had caused her to leave later than she had planned.

By the time she stepped into Glass's office, she had worked herself into a fret. She barely glanced at her teacher before she took a seat and began babbling. "Please forgive me, sir. I really didn't mean to come late. I'm usually much more punctual than this. I hope that this didn't cut into your schedule or anything. So what was it that you wanted to talk about? Nothing bad I hope?" Hermione gave a small smile, which quickly faded. "Sir?"

She finally noticed that the whole time she had been speaking, Professor Glass hadn’t moved. He simply sat behind his desk with his hands folded, staring at her with a frozen grin and glassy eyes.

Glassy eyes...

Hermione almost tripped over her chair backing toward the door. Her hands covered her mouth though they really wanted to cover her eyes, but she knew that if she began screaming that she wouldn't be able to stop.

"Don't get hysterical on me, Granger. One would think that you'd never seen a dead body before."

Hermione whirled around to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the doorway. He smirked at her then said, "But he isn't dead so I guess you still haven't. You'll wish he was soon enough though."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Hermione demanded. She wanted to feel relieved that Glass was still alive, but she couldn't put it past Malfoy to jerk her around. But why would he kill a teacher then show her?

She hated not knowing what was going on more than anything, but she'd gladly take ignorance if she could get out of here alive. If Malfoy had snapped...

Her hand inched toward her robes.

Revealing a speed that she had only seen during Quidditch matches, Malfoy suddenly had a wand pointed at her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"I'll scream," Hermione said, knowing that it was futile. Her suspicions were confirmed when the boy merely shrugged.

"Silencing Charm," he said simply.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked nervously. Her heart was pounding so hard that Malfoy had to have heard it. She had known since first year that her life could end up with an early expiration date, but she had never expected to die in Hogwarts castle.

"I suppose this is the part where I reveal my diabolical plot," Malfoy replied, smiling cruelly. "Unfortunately for you, it's not my plan. But back to your original question, I'm sure you remember what Imperius is."

He gave a wave with his wand and Professor Glass lurched to his feet and stumbled into a wall. He awkwardly regained his footing and stood at attention.

"Your technique could use some work," Hermione said dryly. Sounding and looking brave wasn't as difficult as she had imagined, but it was taking all her strength to prevent herself from either bawling or rushing Malfoy in a suicidal charge.

Malfoy looked a little disgusted. "He's asleep. It was the only way to make sure that he couldn't fight back. And to relax him sufficiently for my Master."

"Master?" Hermione had a bad feeling about this.

"Hermione Granger, your reputation precedes you," said a high, cold voice.

Hermione slowly turned her attention back to Professor Glass, who now stood in a natural stance and stared at her with red, gleaming eyes.

"V... Vo… Vol..."

Voldemort gave her a tight little smile. He said, "I'm a little disappointed. Aren't you the girl who has made it possible for Harry Potter to escape my grasp time and time again? I would have thought you'd be... taller."

There was a mocking edge to his tone. He gave an exaggerated glance of concern at Hermione's trembling form then said, "You seem weary. Please have a seat, Hermione."

Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly, Hermione thought. She couldn't make herself stop shaking. She was ashamed of her terror, but she wasn't a hero. She was just a bookworm who was in over her head. She would be dead before she drew her wand. The logical thing to do was obey this madman's demands and hope for the best.

Like hell! Just as Hermione was about to sit down, she grabbed the chair and swung it into Professor Glass's body. In the next instant, she was through the door that Malfoy had foolishly left open. She was down the stairs and halfway to the doors of the Defense classroom when she heard the last syllables of a spell.

"...Totalus!"

”Protego!" Hermione cried out in desperation. But her concentration was shot and the streak of light blasted through her weak shield like it wasn't even there and slammed into her.

Unable to control her body, she impacted the ground with great force.

Damn it! Hermione wanted to cry, to curse, to do anything, but she was totally immobile. She mentally shuddered when she felt an arm turn her over. Voldemort stared down at her with an unreadable expression.

"I can see why he's so taken with you," he said. "For a Mudblood, you're quite talented." His face hardened. "I would almost rather kill you and be done with it, but as distasteful as I find it, I need you."

Hermione's eyes widened with horror as Voldemort pushed up her sleeve and touched his wand against her arm. His lips moved-

That should be sufficient. I see no need to make you relive this, Miss Granger.

Hermione found herself standing outside her body staring at Voldemort frozen in mid-motion. She knew that she was still inside her mind, so she was not surprised when she turned her head and saw Professor Dumbledore standing beside her.

Are you all right?

Hermione opened her mouth to reply then realized that she didn't have to. I... I don't know.

Dumbledore nodded sagely. If it is any comfort, I think that you are handling things very admirably. And I will need you to maintain your composure for a little bit longer. We have all assumed that Tom had to have been in Hogwarts physically to Mark you. That clearly was a mistake.

I don't understand how he could possess someone, much less someone in Hogwarts! There was Professor Quirrell, but that was completely different.

That is worrisome, indeed. I will have to speak with Professor Flitwick once we get back. But first, I must apologize for going to such lengths to check your innocence. I still consider it necessary, but I apologize nevertheless.

Hermione intended to reassure him that it was okay and that everything was going to be okay now. But before she could, a shadow passed through her mind and she realized...

"PROFESSOR!"

"Hello, Dumbledore."

It wasn't Professor Glass's body standing over Hermione's image anymore, but that of Voldemort himself. The reptilian head gave a slight nod toward Hermione as he got to his feet.

"Tom," Dumbledore spat. He moved to block Hermione with his body.

Voldemort seemed amused. "What happened to that famous detachment, your irritatingly calm attitude? I must have really taken you off-guard. Or perhaps I simply hit a nerve." He glanced over at Hermione again.

"You will not have her!"

"Poor Dumbledore. So predictable," Voldemort replied, shaking his head. "It was never about her!"

Dumbledore tilted his head as if he was listening to something only he could hear. Then a look of horror crossed his face. "You're not really here. You're just a memory."

"I've always been good at those as your precious Harry Potter can attest. Or that dim-witted Weasley girl. But another diary would never fool you, Dumbledore. Possessing this girl would have been too easy to block for a man of your abilities. But a simulacrum hidden in the mind that you activated yourself?

"I see that you have already guessed what my purpose is. I wish I was actually here to see the look on your face when I tell you I got this idea from those Muggles you love so much. I'm sure you're familiar with the tactic of strapping bombs to young children and sending them over to the enemy.

"Goodbye, Albus."

Everything seemed to slow down as Hermione watched the room burst into flame the instant Voldemort vanished. She cried out when she saw chains spring from the ground and bind Dumbledore. The old man sank to his knees, struggling and gasping in pain.

Hermione felt like she was fighting the air itself as she made her way toward him. Her mind raced through every spell she knew, but before she could choose one, Dumbledore flung a hand out at her.

She was flung out of the room and she felt the connection snap. Out of the memory and back in the real world, Hermione watched in frozen fascination as Dumbledore fell from his chair with an agonizing groan. His complexion grew grey and his chest stopped moving.

Harry and Ron stared at her in horror.

Hermione stared blankly at the headmaster's body. The genius of Voldemort's plan was just sinking in for her. The Dark Mark had been a red herring. This had never been about discrediting her or hurting Harry. And to make matters worse, the end result would have been the same even if she had never come here but remained locked in the dungeons. All she had accomplished was moving up the activation of the trap by two weeks. She had actually helped Voldemort!

She finally understood why Sirius Black laughed so madly. She felt like laughing too. Putting in so much effort to do something good only to end up doing the complete opposite was hilariously ironic. This feeling of being moved around like a puppet on a string was... funny. It was freaking hysterical!

Her sanity was hanging on by a thread and she wished it would snap. She wished that Voldemort had killed her for trying to escape. This was it. Her life was over. She'd be thrown into the darkest dungeon in Azkaban. No amount of truth potion would sway any jury in the United Kingdom. She'd be forever known as the girl who killed Albus Dumbledore, champion of the Light.

Get my pensieve. Book of Kade Siblins. Page 476. Watch out...

Hermione jumped to her feet, her heart beating fiercely. Was it possible? No, she had to be imagining it. Voldemort wouldn't have gone to all this trouble to leave the man alive. She knelt down by Dumbleore and felt for a pulse.

Her eyes widened. A heartbeat! It was weak and it was slowing, but it was there. A man of his age should have died instantly from the mental assault, but she wasn't about to question her good fortune.

Hermione whirled toward her friends. She demanded, "I need a wand! I have to put him in stasis until help arrives."

Ron gave her a look of disgust. "Give you a wand? Do we look like Crabbe and Goyle? Haven't you done enough to him?"

Not again! She didn't have time for this! Hermione said through gritted teeth, "I'm not responsible for this. I'm trying to save him!"

Ron fingered his wand as if to reassure himself that it was still there. He replied stiffly, "I'm willing to consider that this isn't what it looks like, but there's no way in hell I'm giving you a wand."

"So you're just going to let him die then?" Hermione spat at him. The instant the words left her mouth, she knew she had gone too far. She knew without looking that Rational Ron had left the building.

His voice rising with every word, Ron spoke, "How do I know you're going to save him? You're the one who caused this! Do you think if you go through the motions, we'll automatically believe your innocence again? At what point does it become stupid to trust you? When we're hanging from the rafters and the Dementors are coming for our souls?"

Hermione was speechless. Why of all the times did Ron have to pick now to be so damn logical? She couldn't promise not to escape since she had no credibility at the moment and even if Ron believed her there was no guarantee that Dumbledore would survive so she would actually be making things worse for herself if she tried and failed, but she had to do something...

"It's done," Harry's voice said, startling her. How could she have forgotten about Harry? She supposed the great desire not to see his disappointment in her was a major factor.

"You did it?" Hermione asked in disbelief. She turned and saw the shimmering blue glow surrounding Dumbledore's body.

"Yeah, you spend enough time in the infirmary, you pick up a few things," Harry said dully, not meeting her eyes. He had withdrawn into himself again.

Hermione sighed. This just wasn't her day. She was too tired to feel depressed or outraged and there were bigger concerns to worry about. She wanted to hit Ron upside the head and hug Harry, but she didn't have time for either. Whatever Dumbledore wanted must have been important enough for him to use up his last energies like that. Logically and hopefully, this was information intended to save his life. The objects he wanted were most likely in his office back at Hogwarts, but they might as well have been on Mars because neither Ron nor Harry seemed to be in the mood to let her leave. And she couldn't blame them.

There had to be another way. She thought furiously and the sound of a crash down the hall interrupted her thoughts.

Then she heard Tonks' voice shouting, "Search every room! And remember they're just kids because if you hurt them, Merlin help me..."

Ron's eyes shifted from Hermione toward the door and it was transparently clear what he was thinking.

In a near panic, Hermione began speaking rapidly. "I don't expect you to believe me, but I didn't do this! Voldemort put a booby trap in my head. I swear that I didn't know about it. But I can fix this! I need Dumbledore's pensieve and a book in his office called Kade Siblins. There's something on page 476 that might help us. I need one of you to go back to Hogwarts now. By the time the Ministry gets through questioning you, it might be too late!"

With obvious restraint, Ron said, "Would you stop it? Just tell us the truth. I'll still be pissed, but I'll still respect you. Stop treating us like we're idiots!"

Hermione felt like tearing out her hair. "Then stop acting like one! I am telling you the truth! What other possible motive would I have for asking this?"

"Questions like those that are the most worrying!" Ron yelled. The bitterness and despair in his voice was almost tangible. "It's rather convenient that one of us has to leave right this very minute. And that you're the only one here that can make a Portkey. One that could go anywhere. What's the Muggle saying? Fool me once..."

So all your pretty words about friendship and forgiveness meant nothing then? Those words died before they ever reached her lips. No, she would not sink so low. It was not fair of her to demand from Ron more than he was able to give. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, but not to the extent of obeying her directions. Faith and loyalty could only be stretched so far.

If she attempted to take advantage of their bond, to guilt him into this when he had every reason in the world to refuse, then their friendship would shatter permanently.

The footsteps were coming closer, but instead of fear, Hermione felt a sense of calm settle over her. She had gotten a second chance, something few people could claim, and it blew up in her face through no fault of her own. There was no point in asking for more. She had done all she could and it was time to accept that. Some battles can not be won by strength of will alone.

"Okay, Ron. We'll do it your way," Hermione said. She smiled gently at him to show that she wouldn't hold this against him.

To his credit, Ron didn’t take advantage of her surrender to start yelling out their location and for that, Hermione was grateful. She wanted a few moments to tell Harry how much he meant to her and that she wasn't angry with him. Hesitantly, she turned toward Harry.

A wand clattered to the floor in front of her.

"Take it."

"Harry?"

"Take it and go already." He still wouldn't look at her and each word was tinged with pain.

Ron was incredulous. "What are you doing?"

"It's the best solution, isn't it? If she's innocent then we'll have helped her save Dumbledore. If she isn't then neither of us gets sucked into a trap," Harry said hollowly.

"Did you overlook the fact that in this plan Hermione escapes and leaves us with the body?" Ron asked. "We should let the Ministry sort this out. If you're worried about Dumbledore, we can ask Tonks to get this bloody book!"

"This isn't about Dumbledore," Harry replied in a terse, clipped fashion. He finally looked up and his eyes were dark green.

Ron looked like he was selecting his words very carefully. "Then what is this about? Hermione means a lot to me too, but we can’t let our feelings-"

Harry cut him off. With his hands clenched and his voice cracking, he looked like a man on the verge of breaking completely. "You wouldn't understand. I'm not letting her go to Azkaban. Not after Sirius. Not after my parents. I'm done losing people. I don't care if she's a murderer. I. Don't. Care."

Ron looked like he wanted to argue, but he just lowered his wand and said, "It's your call, mate."

Hermione stared at Harry in utter astonishment. He couldn't be serious. This went beyond all logic or faith. If he truly believed that she really was responsible for Dumbledore's condition, then letting her go was insane. She wished that she knew what he was thinking, but she didn't have time to ask. Dumbledore needed her help and she had to do something to make this right.

"I love you both. And I'll see you again shortly." She picked up Harry's wand and touched it to the Portkey they had arrived with. "Portus."

The moment she finished saying the word, the doors sprung open. Aurors came pouring in toward the far end of the table where Hermione stood, but she had already touched her finger to the quill.

In the instant that she began to fade away, she felt someone grab her around the waist from behind and the certain weight of a foot on the front of her shoe. But there was no time to investigate the matter because she was now transporting hundreds of miles back to where this all began.

~*~

As soon as her feet made contact with solid ground, Hermione launched herself away from her hitchhiker, convinced that an Auror had managed to grab her before she had vanished completely.

She whirled around with her wand in hand. "Stuf- Harry!"

Hermione just stared at him, unable to believe that he came after. Harry stared back, his emerald eyes boring into hers. They were still dark and haunted, but there was a spark of something that she couldn't identify. When it became apparent that Harry was not going to be the first to speak, she asked, "Why are you here?"

Harry finally looked away. He said quietly, "I don't know."

She didn't press him. She simply began walking and the sound of footsteps told her Harry was following. She set a quick, efficient pace and forced herself not to hurry. She wouldn't be able to help anyone if she got caught by Filch or Peeves.

They had arrived in the Great Hall. The Headmaster office had too many protections to be casually Portkeyed into by a student no matter how intelligent she was. But the wards around the dining hall would recognize her as a student and allow her to pass since this was the preferred entry and exit site for students who regularly went home to visit their parents on the weekends. Without Dumbledore's authorization, the Ministry forces would have to make their ways through the grounds by foot.

The hallways of the castle were still dark and empty. It was hard to believe that it had only been a few hours before that she had walked this way filled with confidence and optimism that it would only be a short time before she came back to resume her normal life.

She had come back, but she didn't think that things would ever be normal again. Being revealed as a Death Eater, escaping her confinement, stealing Ministry information, creating unauthorized Portkeys, and making her Headmaster drop nearly dead were not the type of activities for which Head Girls were known.

She finally couldn't take the silence any more. "Do you believe that I'm not a Death Eater then? After all, this doesn't look like Voldemort's dark, villainous lair."

Harry shrugged, not even cracking a smile. "I told you that I didn’t believe that you were a Death Eater. I still believe that. Nothing that has happened has changed that. But I never said that you weren't capable of evil."

Hermione stopped walking, forcing Harry to stop and look at her. She said, "Granted. But can you really picture me murdering someone?"

The look on Harry's face made her wish that she hadn't asked. His eyes were so unbearably sad.

"Everyone is capable of murder," he said softly. "Even me."

Hermione had known of the Prophecy since sixth year and as much as she wanted to comfort Harry about his inevitable confrontation with Voldemort, she knew that mentioning it would only cause him to clam up even more tightly.

Instead, she asked gently, "Then why, Harry? If I'm not a Death Eater, why would I try to kill Dumbledore? What possible reason would I have?"

"You'd do it if you thought it was right," Harry replied slowly. "If it would accomplish something good."

"Like what?"

Harry hesitated for so long that she thought he wouldn't answer, but he finally whispered, "Saving someone you can't live without."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Yes, I can see that, but killing a friend is completely different from killing an enemy to save someone."

"In fifth year, I would have gotten all my friends killed to save Sirius. If it hadn't been for the Order, all of us would have died for nothing."

"That's different!" Hermione insisted, taken aback by this abrupt change in subject.

"Is it really?" Harry asked. "In matter of degree perhaps. Maybe I wouldn't have been the one to cast the death spells, but the results would have been the same. I never should have brought any of you along. The fact that I willingly and knowingly brought five students against trained serial killers...

"I loved Sirius so much. I couldn't think. The fact that I was putting all of you in danger was nothing compared to the thought that he was dying and I had to do something, no matter how dangerous. It wasn't that I cared about you and Ron less at that moment. It was just..."

Harry sighed. "Sirius was in danger and I had to help him by whatever means necessary. Right and wrong had little room in my thoughts at the time. You'd be amazed at how stupid you become, how your morals break down when someone you love is in danger. If Voldemort had your parents and threatened to kill them if you didn't do what he said, wouldn't you obey?"

Harry continued walking without waiting for her answer, which was fortunate because she didn't know what to say. She was dismayed at Harry's cynicism and thought sadly of the little boy who had never known such angst. And she hated that Harry had a point.

To save her parents, to save Harry, how far would she go? Hermione wondered if Harry was kept awake at night pondering the very same question. If he struggled with questions of what he would do if Voldemort had ever gotten hold of her or Ron. If he would go down the slippery slope of preserving their lives by taking the lives of others.

Then a connection was sparked inside her brain and she had an epiphany. In his mind, Harry was thinking that he was here to help her accomplish Voldemort's goals. And he wasn't trying to argue with her or trying to convince her that there were other ways to save her supposedly kidnapped parents.

"Harry," she asked suspiciously. "Why do you think we're here?"

"I'm here to help you with whatever needs to be done," he replied calmly, staring at her with quiet acceptance in his eyes.

Heroes weren't supposed to act like this. They weren't supposed to put hostages above the fate of the world. She had the certain insight that if she told him that she was here to kill Professor McGonagall, he wouldn't protest.

Because he trusted her judgment.

Hermione sighed to herself. Harry could be so stupidly noble sometimes. Instead of believing her story, which was admittedly far-stretched, or accepting that she was just downright rotten, he had concocted this fantastic story of her being this damsel in distress who was being manipulated into doing hideous deeds, and he would help her get through these trying times. It probably appealed to his hero complex, which she would never, ever point out to him.

When both logic and common sense had failed him, he still insisted on believing her to be a good person who was doing what she thought was best. It was something she noticed a long time ago. Even when he had every reason in the world to be angry with her such as after the Firebolt incident or the argument over going to the DOM, he respected her opinions even when he disagreed with them.

Harry really did have a blind spot when it came to her.

It was actually rather sweet.

The problem was that Harry was so used to her having all the answers that he couldn't believe that she hadn't known about the mental bomb beforehand, and despite his words, he couldn't believe that she would willingly kill someone, so this was the bizarre result.

Oh, Harry, what am I going to do with you? Hermione thought fondly.

Hermione gently grabbed his arm to gain his attention, but kept on walking. She said, "Harry, if the situation was different, maybe I could kill Ron, Dumbledore, or..." She couldn't make herself say 'you' so she uncomfortably stumbled on, "...another student. But in this case I didn't. You have got to believe me on this."

He was listening. Heartened, she continued, "Trust doesn't mean automatically believing everything I say. It does mean giving me a chance to prove what I say is true. You have always done that. Even when you don't believe me, you always give me a chance to explain my side.

"I wasn't coerced or blackmailed into this. I was just as surprised as you were. Voldemort doesn't have a hold over me. I am not here to kill anyone or destroy the castle or whatever grandiose idea you've come up with. Can you please just accept that I was an unwilling booby-trap who had no idea what was going on? That I dragged you to the other side of the world just as blind to the truth?"

The silence dragged on and Hermione watched the flurry of emotions that crossed Harry's face. Skepticism. Consideration. Hope. Realization. Embarrassment. Then finally, acceptance.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He gave a little, awkward shrug. "I'm sorry, but there were just so many coincidences. I just couldn't believe that after everything that you had no idea about this. That we went to all this trouble to see Dumbledore and none of us knew about this. I just could not believe that life could be so messed up."

"If it helps, neither could I," Hermione said.

"I guess it's just easier to blame another person than accept that life is really, really unfair," Harry replied with a nervous laugh. Then he asked very seriously, "Are you disappointed in me?"

Hermione had to laugh and the wounded look on Harry's face made her laugh longer. Aware that someone could be just around the corner, she quickly stifled her mirth. She looked warmly at her friend. "How can you think that I would be disappointed in you? You broke me out of confinement, you believed that I killed Dumbledore and you let me go anyway, and you came after me despite that. You're here by my side, Harry, and that means a lot."

Harry's face had always been easy to read, at least for her, and the message was clear. I really am sorry.

Hermione smiled back at him. I know. It's okay.

The strange glint appeared in Harry's eyes again, but after a slight pause, he merely said, "We better get that book then before it's too late."

Without any further conversation, the two quickly navigated their way to the gargoyle. Harry had the password and wasted little time in pointing out how fortunate Hermione was that he came along. She quickly retorted that without her, he'd probably be searching for the book all night.

They continued their mock argument up the growing stairway, but froze when they heard a slight thump behind them. When nothing was forthcoming, they quickly ran the rest of the way past the door with the griffin knocker and into Dumbledore's office.

Hermione stared around in wonder. She had never been in this place before and Harry's descriptions hadn't done it justice. She would have liked to examine the portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses who seemed to be genuinely asleep at the moment, the silver instruments that seemed to permeate the room, or even the red and gold plumage of the slumbering Fawkes, but her attention was drawn to the books.

There were hundreds of them on the shelves of sturdy, oak bookcases in the back of the room. Harry had never mentioned them, but they weren't the type of thing that he would have been wont to notice. And there was undoubtedly the desire to avoid having her pester him for details, Hermione thought wryly.

Without a word, she scrambled over to the bookcases and to her dismay, saw that there was no discernible order. With no other alternative, she and Harry began scanning the shelves for the Book of Kade Siblins.

The next couple of minutes proved to be frustrating as not only could she not locate the book she needed, but also she kept running into works that she'd been looking for months for but weren't in print any longer. Books on conjuration, spell formulation, alchemy, and more, and she had no time to look at any of them!

She decided to ask for help, but for some reason, she didn't ask the obvious choice of the portraits. Maybe it was the strain of stress she'd been under, the lack of any real sleep, or the adrenaline crash she was going through, but Hermione turned to Fawkes, who had recently awoken and was staring at her curiously. She asked half-seriously, "You wouldn't happen to know where the Book of Kade Siblins is, would you?"

To her great surprise, the phoenix immediately flew over to a seemingly random spot on the shelves and returned with a heavy tome in his talons. The gold script on the binding confirmed it was what she had asked for.

Hermione quickly flipped through it to page 476 and was gratified to see that it held a rarely used but effective method for treating mental attacks caused by intangible simulacrums. She handed the book back to the phoenix.

"Very good, Fawkes. Now, I need you to take this to-"

"I would stop there if was you, Miss Granger," a sleek, almost silky voice said from behind her.

"Lucius Malfoy," Hermione uttered with a groan as she turned around. How could she have forgotten about him?

With his wand still pointed at her, the silver-haired man casually stepped over his dropped Invisibility Cloak over to a frozen Harry who glared at him with hate-filled eyes.

"Be a dear and hand over the book," Lucius said with a brittle smile.

"This seems familiar," Hermione forced herself to say. She tightened her grip on the book, her thoughts racing furiously. She was missing something. Why hadn't the man just killed both of them once they opened the office and taken the book himself?

"Not quite. It's true that I want you to hand over the book, but I would be satisfied with you destroying it yourself. And unlike our delightful stand-off in the Department of Mysteries, I have a little more incentive on my side," Lucius replied, nonchalantly ruffling Harry's hair.

Hermione's stomach tightened and her breath caught. The hate in Harry's eyes was nothing compared to the ferocity in Lucius's when he looked at the boy. She needed to distract him from Harry. She needed more time to think. "What are you doing here? How did you know to follow us?"

"It was supposed to be so simple," Lucius growled. "Get you framed then have that Muggle-loving fool return and have his brain fried. Then watch as the wizarding world turned against all Mudbloods. My job was to keep track of Dumbledore and make sure both of you died in the attack. There were a few unexpected surprises, but I'm sure I can salvage the situation. Now, hand over the book."

Why does he keep asking? And why hadn't he gone after her first? She still had Harry's wand. He had to know that! You always take out the armed opponent first.

Maybe the book had to be freely given to him. Maybe he didn't want to wake the portraits though they should have woken by now if they were capable of it. Maybe...

"You won't kill Harry," Hermione said boldly. "Voldemort wouldn't like it."

"No, he wouldn't," Lucius agreed. "But no one said that his mind had to be intact. Cru-"

"Wait!" Hermione cried. She bit her lip nervously. Slowly, almost unable to believe she was considering this, she asked, "If I give you the book, will you let Harry go?"

Lucius seemed to take great enjoyment in thinking over the answer. He finally said, "No."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go!

Lucius was grinning widely now. "You don't seem to understand that no matter what you decide, I win. If you decide to save Dumbledore, then I will drive your little boyfriend into insanity then you. Then I will kill you and make it look like you were responsible for all of this. How will the good wizards and witches react when their savior is a drooling idiot and the cause of that was a Muggle-born?

"I don't anticipate that the boy will last very long without his mind, but at least his death won't be certain... just probable. If you decide to give me the book, I will still kill you but it will be quick. And then I will take young Harry Potter back to my Master to do with as he will."

"So no matter what, Harry will die," Hermione whispered.

"Perhaps, but there are many ways to die. Whether it will be quick or slow and lingering is really up to you," Lucius replied, again revealing his shark-like grin.

Hermione fell back against the wall, trembling. She finally understood. Lucius Malfoy could have taken the book at any point. He went after Harry simply because he hated him more. He left her with the wand simply to show that she was powerless. There was no hidden reason for why he kept asking her to choose. He was merely being sadistic.

That's the problem with sociopaths. They just had to maximize the pain at the expense of expediency, Hermione thought hysterically.

Hermione had no idea if the Prophecy would protect Harry and she couldn't depend on it. Wizards and witches died when they insisted they knew the true meaning of a prophecy.

Why was this so hard? With one word, Fawkes would be gone in an instant. She couldn't just let Dumbledore die. But Harry...

"No more time to think," Lucius announced. "Crucio!"

Harry's Petrified body twitched then stood still. But his eyes were bleeding.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Hermione shrieked.

Lucius ignored her and rubbed his chin in an exaggerated manner. "Hmm, I forgot to remove the binding spell." He waved his wand again and Harry crashed to the floor.

Harry's body jerked and shuddered and his mouth was stretched open in a silent scream. His arms and legs danced around wildly.

"Take it! Take the damn thing!" Hermione cried, thrusting the book out at him.

Lucius didn't appear to hear her. His eyes were on Harry and there was a serene look on his face. The civilized mask had fallen away revealing the monster within.

"Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus! Impedimenta!" Hermione shouted spell after spell, but Lucius lazily blocked every one of them, and the torture didn't let up for a second.

In a reckless rage, Hermione charged the man determined to bring him down by physical means. When she was a mere foot away from Lucius, she was rocketed back into the shelves. A dozen books landed around her.

And Lucius continued to smile smugly.

An audible snap signaled that one of Harry's bones had finally broken.

Hermione had never hated someone so much. Her life was crashing around her ears and she had betrayed her principles by surrendering to this bastard and it still wasn't enough for him. Her best friend was breaking down before her and he wanted her to watch it.

Power, dark and deadly, flowed down her arms.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

There was a flash of green light and the sound of an invisible blade speeding through the air toward its target. Lucius Malfoy had the expression of complete and utter shock and Hermione could almost see the signal racing from his brain to his legs telling him to dodge, but he would be too slow... too slow...

The killing curse glanced by his ear, slammed into the wall behind his head, and burst into flame.

Before Lucius could react, Hermione Stunned him. She looked at him dispassionately. Her body trembled, but if it was in disappointment or relief she couldn't say.

She meant to miss him, Hermione told herself. She did it on purpose.

Right?

Almost mechanically, Hermione told Fawkes to go and he was gone in a flash of fire. She then conjured some ropes and proceeded to tie up the unconscious man. Whatever spells had frozen the portraits seemed to have dissipated as dozens of sleepy, anxious voices shouted questions at her. She ignored them all.

Then she turned to Harry. She set his leg with magic as best as she could and checked him over for injuries. Tears obscured her vision, so she didn't even realize that Harry was still awake until he weakly grasped her hand.

"You should rest, Harry. Help should be here soon," Hermione said hoarsely.

"Don't cry, Hermione," Harry said faintly. He tried to smile, but it came out as more of a pained grimace.

Despite herself, she smiled. Harry was riddled with self-inflicted bruises and his nerves were probably still stinging from the liquid fire that had run through them, but his first concern was for her. Then her smile faded.

"I almost killed him."

"But you didn't."

"But I wanted to. I wanted him to die."

"You wouldn't be human otherwise."

Harry's eyes bored into her telling her that he understood and she realized that he probably did. Hermione said, almost rambling, "I... didn't want you to die. I gave in so quickly. Was that wrong? If he had stopped... we'd both be dead now. As it is..." She looked over at the scorched wall. "Should I have found another way? What does it say... my being capable of that?"

"I find that having a capability and what you actually do with it to be very different things," Harry said.

"When did you get to be so philosophical?" Hermione asked, bemused at his answer.

"Have Dumbledore give you his speech about choices and abilities sometimes," Harry replied with a wry grin. Then he grew somber. "You know what I tried to do to Bellatrix."

Hermione nodded.

"I told Dumbledore because I was afraid of the type of person that meant I was. He told me that hate may have fueled the Cruciatus I shot at Bellatrix, but I hated her for Sirius's sake and not merely my own, and that was why he was sure that I would be okay. He believed in me. And I believe in you."

Harry closed his eyes, winded by his response. Hermione sat silently watching him breathe. She had done it for him. She wouldn't kill people just because it was fun. Neither would Harry. But both of them would kill to save the people that made life worth living.

Love was messy like that.

The sound of pounding footsteps coming up the stairway and the echoing of McGonagall's voice told them that this whole ordeal would soon be over.

"I guess that it's back to the dungeons for me," Hermione said, only half-joking.

Harry's grip on her hand tightened. "After everything that's happened, do you really think I'm going to let you out of my sight? You're not going anywhere without me."

His words were that of a friend comforting another, but the way he said them caused Hermione to flush slightly. Turning her face away, she looked around the wrecked office and what she saw made her sigh. "Will anything ever be the same?"

"Nothing ever stays the same," Harry said quietly. "Well, almost nothing."

He smiled at her, green eyes meeting brown. And there was no need for words.

~*~

The next four days flew by in a daze for Hermione. She had spent them by Harry's side in the infirmary while he recovered. Madam Pomfrey had placed him in a healing trance, so she had plenty of time to think and to deal with the myriad of apologies that came from the other Gryffindors.

Dumbledore had awoken, weak and still in much need of medical care, after the book was delivered to the Healers and doing so kept Hermione from being carted away. An investigative team from the Ministry had stopped by to take down her story. Fortunately for her, the Killing Curse only carried a sentence if used upon another human being. She did have to endure a long lecture about using it without Ministry approval, but she had the sense that some of the members quietly approved of her actions.

There was even a visit from a member of the Experimental Charms committee who had tried to remove the Dark Mark from her arm. After much fruitless effort, he finally covered it with a flesh-colored bandage and gave her a note signed by the Minister to hand over if she was ever mistakenly arrested.

Hermione was disappointed that the unsightly tattoo would remain, but she decided to see it as a badge of survival rather than a reminder of her horrible experience. Lucius Malfoy was back in Azkaban and she wasn't. That was something to celebrate.

Professor Flitwick had taken the time to investigate how Malfoy had gone through the wards with her and Harry. Apparently no one had adjusted the wards after Lucius Malfoy was removed as a School Governor. That flaw had now been fixed.

Draco Malfoy had vanished. He had undoubtedly scurried off to his Dark Lord and since Hermione had the feeling that Voldemort didn't take failure kindly, she felt a brief pang of pity for the young man. A very brief pang.

Professor Glass was understandably shaken to discover that he had been possessed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself and tried to resign. When he had shown up for his classes the day after, it was evident that he had changed his mind. From what Hermione had been able to piece together, Dumbledore had offered to teach the man Occlumency in exchange for remaining at Hogwarts. The students speculated that the Headmaster was simply tired of hiring a new Defense teacher every year.

It was on the fourth day while she was reading that Ron stopped by. She stared at him curiously. While almost all the other Gryffindors had stopped by to wish her well and apologize at least twice, Ron had apparently only came by once when she and Harry were both unconscious.

Without preamble, Ron said, "I'm not going to apologize for trying to do the sensible thing."

There was a hint of defensiveness in his tone that made her smile. She replied, "Seeing as how that's the only time I've ever seen you do anything sensible, I wouldn't dream of berating you for it."

Ron relaxed marginally. He asked uncertainly, "So you're not mad? That I didn't go as far as Harry for you?"

"It's not a race, Ron," Hermione said kindly. "You not wanting me to leave the crime scene doesn't mean you distrusted me. You went as far as you could on only friendship and faith. That's more than my other friends did. Harry went further... for other reasons."

It had taken her some time after all the chaos and emotional hardship had settled, but she had finally figured out what the look in Harry's eyes meant.

There was something beyond logic and faith that motivated Harry to keep going after her, and that something was belief. It wasn't the type of belief that had become synonymous with 'blind faith.' It was the type that developed over a period of time after one got a chance to truly know and understand another person. It was the belief that one could give their heart to another and trust that it would be kept safe.

Harry didn't believe her because he loved her. He loved her because he believed in her.

The sound of flipping pages made Hermione look up from her reading. She had to stifle the giggles that threatened to erupt and ended up coughing.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

"I'm doing my Potions homework," Ron mumbled.

Hermione couldn't resist. "But it's Saturday."

"I said," Ron replied through gritted teeth. "I'm doing my Potions homework."

Hermione rolled her eyes and fell back onto her pillow, turning to look at Harry. He sleepily blinked his eyes at her in concern.

"I'm fine, Harry. Go back to sleep," Hermione said. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Harry snuggled deeper into his pillow and closed his eyes.

Hermione watched his peaceful face for a moment then throwing caution to the wind, she said softly, "I believe in you too."

The smile on Harry's face widened.