Chapter 31: Ron’s big Day
It was Sunday night and Harry was sitting at the desk in his room, brooding over his lesson plan for the following day. He had made some adjustments to the plan he had shown Dumbledore, but still thought that something was missing. It was already hard on the students, but he still thought that the impact could be greater. Something needed to be changed…
Suddenly, an idea shot through his mind. Harry clutched the quill tightly in his hand and some drops of ink fell down onto the parchment. His eyes widened. No… he couldn’t do this. Or maybe… No! This was out of the question! He was horrified that this idea had even crossed his mind. But… But if he really wanted to shock his students, to show them what it really was like… Barty Crouch did a good job in scaring the students, but this was before Voldemort had returned. Now, he was there, causing terror everywhere… More had to be done.
Harry shook his head, his face pale, but stood up nonetheless. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to do this. He knew many reasons of why he shouldn’t, but still he kept going and opened the door to the common room. He almost breathed a sigh of relief, when, at first sight, the room was empty, but then he spotted a mop of red hair behind the backrest of the armchair. Swallowing hard, Harry walked up to his best mate, who looked up, when he heard the footsteps.
“Hey Harry,” Ron greeted him with a grin, as he put the Quidditch magazine on the table. “Finished with your lesson plan?”
“Almost,” Harry answered with a weak smile. He rubbed his sweaty hands dry in his jeans. “Ron,” he began uneasily, “can we… can we talk in my room, please? I’ve got to ask you a huge favour.”
“Sure, mate, anything,” Ron replied at once and got up from the armchair. He rubbed his hands eagerly and Harry began to feel sick. He was sure that Ron could see how bad he felt, so he tried again to smile. And failed miserably.
“Don’t, Ron,” he croaked. “Just, hear me out, before you say anything, okay?”
Nodding slowly, Ron followed Harry into his room and closed the door behind him. Harry could feel the questioning gaze in his back and gripped the backrest of his chair tightly, as he stared down at his lesson plan. His hands were trembling and he could feel the sweat on his brow. If it was already this hard just to ask him, how hard would it be doing it? “Harry?” Ron asked, and Harry could clearly hear the worry in his friend’s voice.
After having taken a deep breath, Harry turned around, running with his hand through his hair. He tried to keep his voice steady, as he said, “I know this is really a lot to ask, and I will understand, if you don’t want to do it, but I need your help tomorrow.”
~*~
Monday morning, first class of the day. Harry watched nervously, feeling slightly ill, how the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students from third year filed into the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom. Ron was standing next to him and he could see that his friend was also slightly pale. But he put on a brave face. Turning his attention back to the arriving students, Harry wondered, how he could have deserved such a great friend. Ron had not once questioned him. He had listened to Harry explain what he wanted to do and even though Ron had thought about this for a moment and asked him, how he wanted to achieve this “ which Harry had answered with his theory, a theory he would also need to explain to the students “ he had agreed almost immediately.
Somehow, Harry had to make it up to Ron after this week. If this was even possible.
The class settled down more quickly than Harry had expected “ and hoped “ and after closing his eyes briefly, took a step forward. “When I was your age,” he began, his eyes wandering over the students, “no one thought that it would be necessary to prepare me for the worst that is out there. First in my fourth year of education we had a teacher, who taught us, even though many others still thought it was too early. But I share my old teacher’s opinion. It’s never too early to know. And because of that,” he waved the wand and the piece of chalk wrote The Unforgivables on the blackboard, “this is going to be our topic today and in the next lessons.”
Immediately whispers broke out among the students. But Harry’s gaze rested on Charlie Weasley. The boy had turned even paler than Ron and this was quite a feat. Still, Harry knew that in the course of this class, Charlie might be getting worse. Harry needed to keep an eye on him.
“Now,” he continued and he was surprised that he immediately had the attention of every single student in his classroom. “This lesson is going to be very different from any other class you’ve had with me until now. And I have to ask you not to talk of this outside of this classroom. No one may know what will happen here.” Harry walked around to his desk and unrolled a scroll of parchment. He put it on the desk and a quill next to it. “This is a binding magical contract. Those of you, who want to be taught the way I will do it, please sign your name on this contract. Those of you, who don’t, you can leave now. I will give you a reading list about this topic so that you will still pass your exams with flying colours.”
Harry’s eyes were sweeping over the students “ most of them were looking uncertainly at each other. He exchanged a quick glance with Ron, unsure if there would be students, who wanted to stay after this ultimatum. But then, suddenly, Ron smiled and motioned with his head to a table. With a grim, but determined look on his pale face, Charlie Weasley was walking towards them. Harry nodded at him encouragingly, as the boy took the quill and signed the contract. Harry saw that every single eye in the room was boring into Charlie’s back, but once he put the quill down, more students got up from their seats and came to the front. However, there were also a few, one Gryffindor and two girls from Ravenclaw, who asked him for the reading list. Harry was a bit disappointed, but handed out the list with a few recommendations, and the three students left the room.
Once everyone’s name was on the list and the last students had sat down again, Harry waved his wand again and the shutters in front of the windows closed. Another wave and the door was locked and the room silenced, so that no one outside could hear what was going on inside. When the students noticed his, they began to look a bit more scared, but all of them remained seated.
“Very well,” Harry said, as he leaned back against his desk. “I’ll thank you for your trust, especially after what has been written in the Prophet. I believe most of you should know by now that most of what was written in this article is utter rubbish. I’m not going to teach you how to use the Unforgivables, but to recognize and to fight them. My methods may be unorthodox, but I’m sure that they will be effective.
“Professor Weasley will help me with this and this is where the magical contract comes into the picture. You won’t be able to tell anyone what his role in this class is, instead I think you should tell them that I used,” Harry waved his wand and a quill on his desk transformed into a white bunny, “this cute little thing.”
Some girls squealed upon seeing this animal, remarking how adorable it was, as they had obviously not realized yet, what Harry would use it for.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry ignored the girls and continued, “But this bunny won’t be needed until later in my presentation. For now, I want to start with the Unforgivable most people call the most harmless, even though it can cause great, if not even greater harm, than the other two. Who knows, what curse I’m talking about?”
Harry saw that tentatively a few hands were raised into the air, but he was waiting for one special student to call on. And just a few seconds later, Charlie’s hand was also raised. Harry again nodded at him encouragingly. “Charlie?”
The boy was still incredibly pale, but his eyes were sparkling stubbornly. “The Imperius Curse.”
“That’s correct,” Harry told him, not smiling. “Can you also tell the class, what effect this curse has?”
He saw how Charlie swallowed hard and tightly grabbed the edge of the desk. But he still answered. “Complete obedience,” Charlie whispered at first, but then, his voice slowly became stronger. “When the curse is used on you, you have to do everything the caster tells you to do. You can’t disobey. You don’t even think of disobeying. Everything the caster says sounds like a great idea, truly everything, even the cruellest things. You feel light, without a care in the world. Being under the Imperius feels great, so great that you don’t want to return to the harsh real world…”
“Thank you, Charlie… That was really brave,” Harry told him sincerely. “Now, I hope you’ve gotten a good picture of what the Imperius does to you. Most textbooks will simply tell you that the caster of the curse will have complete control over you, that you will obey him without question, but what Charlie just told you is far more worth. Because, how do you want to fight against something, if you don’t know, how it feels like? You need to know, what to expect. Knowing the true effects of the curse, knowing what you will feel, will prepare you to fight against it, because no matter how real it feels, while you’re under it, you will know that this is wrong.
“But while knowing what it feels like to be under the Imperius is very important, we may not neglect the importance of recognizing the outward signs of the curse. How do you recognize that your best friend is a victim of the Imperius? He may seem normal at first glance, but when you look closer, you will notice some actually pretty obvious signs “ indifference, for one, absence of mind and neglect of friends are others. There are many more, but basically you simply have to look for differences in your friend’s behaviour.
“And to show you, how the Imperius Curse works, I’ve asked Professor Weasley to help me with a presentation. I will perform the curse on him and then tell him to do something he would never do under normal circumstances.” Immediately the students began to talk among themselves and Harry could catch words like ‘forbidden’ and ‘Azkaban’. But still Harry went on as if nothing had happened. “Nothing, and I repeat, nothing of what will transpire here in this classroom, will leave the room. This contract you all signed made sure of that, as I’ve told you before. And now, please pay attention.”
Harry and Ron turned to face each other and Harry raised his wand. His hand was trembling slightly and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. He just had to tell himself over and over again that this was still harmless. The Imperius would not hurt his friend, maybe embarrass him a bit, but not hurt. “Come on, mate,” Ron murmured, causing Harry to open his eyes again. Ron was looking at him with an encouraging smile on his face. “I’m waiting.”
Nodding shortly, Harry pointed his wand at his friend and said, loudly and clearly, “Imperio!”
Harry saw how the stance of his friend slackened and then, when he gave his wand a small wave, Ron began to sing. Harry winced slightly. He knew that his friend couldn’t hold a tune if his life depended on it, and somehow, this song made it even worse.
“Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring, that’s why we all sing, Weasley’s our King!”
A few students began to snigger, as Ron continued to sing this song passionately, and finally after a few minutes, Harry waved his wand again and Ron fell silent, even though it was still obvious that he was still under the curse.
“So, you think that’s funny, huh?” Harry said seriously, effectively shutting the muttering and laughing students up. “What if I use my power over him to let him jump out of the window.” Immediately, Ron began to walk to the side of the classroom, where the windows were. “Or, maybe even worse, if I let him kill one of you.” Ron returned and drew his wand, pointing it at some point in the class. Harry waved his wand again and Ron snapped out of the curse, shaking his head to get rid of the cobwebs in his mind. “Listen, and listen carefully. The Imperius Curse is not funny. It’s horrible what you can make people do and I want you to realize that. It may look and sound harmless at first glance, but there’s a reason why the Imperius is one of the Unforgivables. Don’t forget that.
“Now, what is according to the textbooks the second-worse Unforgivable?”
A few hands were raised again, and Harry picked a girl from Ravenclaw. “The Cruciatus Curse,” she answered.
“Correct. The Cruciatus Curse. Also called the torture curse. I truly hope that no one of you ever had or will have to experience this curse. It’s simply pain, excruciating pain. Your whole body is on fire. You can’t stop it, you can’t block it out. You only want it to end… or to die. Too long exposure to the curse will cause you to lose your mind. It will simply shut down, and if you don’t die, your new home will be the closed ward for permanent spell damage at St. Mungo’s.” Harry thought of the Longbottoms, knowing that, if he didn’t change anything in this time, this would be their fate in about a half year. “But to cast the curse, you’ll really have to mean it. You really have to want to cause pain. Otherwise it won’t work.”
Harry hesitated, took a deep breath, and turned again to Ron. His hand was trembling even more than before and he noticed how Ron tensed considerably. “Do it,” Ron mouthed and Harry closed his eyes. The tension in the classroom was almost tangible and Harry didn’t even want to know what the students were thinking right now.
Gathering all of his courage, all of his anger at this situation, the anger at himself, he raised his wand. His eyes met Ron’s and without thinking about it, Harry yelled forcefully, “Crucio!”
Immediately Ron fell to the ground, twitching, shaking, trashing, and worst of all, screaming. Harry gritted his teeth, as he kept his wand trained on his best friend. One girl began to cry, other students to shout, and then, after what seemed like an eternity, even though Harry knew that it was not even twenty seconds, he stopped the spell.
Harry felt positively sick, as he saw his best friend lying on the ground. Ron was breathing hard, obviously still in pain, and tears were streaming down his face. Hesitantly, Harry knelt down next to Ron, swallowing hard. “You alright?” This question sounded hollow in his ears, because Ron couldn’t be alright. Not after this. What the bleeding hell had he been thinking, when he had planned this? And how could they get through this the whole week?
“Never been better,” Ron muttered weakly and pushed himself up in a sitting position.
“Ron,” Harry mumbled, but the redhead simply shook his head.
“Finish your lecture, mate,” he interrupted Harry, as he slowly got up again and leaned heavily against the desk. “I’m gonna be okay…”
Uncertainly, Harry nodded. His gaze rested on his friend a little longer until he turned his full attention back to the class. “You needed to see this,” he whispered hoarsely, as if it had been him, who had screamed so loudly just a minute ago. “You needed to know, how the curse affects a human being. Doing this with an animal just wouldn’t have been enough.”
“But, Professor,” a girl from Gryffindor asked with a trembling voice. “You said that you have to want to cause pain to cast this curse effectively. But Professor Weasley is your friend, so how…”
Harry smiled grimly. “You’re right. I wanted to cause pain. But not Ron, no, I would never want to cause Ron any pain. I wanted to cause myself pain, because I knew what effect the curse would have on him. You have no idea, how much you can despise yourself, when you have to do this to your best friend, what you would do to yourself. I tricked the curse. My feelings told the curse that I wanted to inflict pain, but the curse couldn’t tell that it was me I wanted to inflict it on. I hope this answers your question.”
The girl nodded timidly and scribbled something down on her parchment. Harry glanced to Ron and saw that his friend was trying to grin at him, probably to ease the guilt Harry felt. It was still more a grimace as a grin, but his friend’s face had already regained some colour. Maybe, maybe they would get through this week after all.
“Now, the last curse.”
Someone in the back squeaked, but Harry didn’t pay any heed to this person. He guessed he knew what they were thinking now, but this time Harry would prove them wrong. This was something he would never do.
“Anyone?” No one raised his hand, something Harry had expected. They were all too shocked by the previous display to dare to say something now. Instead of telling them immediately, what the last curse was, however, Harry turned around and pointed his wand at the cute bunny on the desk. “Avada Kedavra!” he shouted and a beam of sickly green light hit the bunny. It was immediately dead. Some students screamed again, but Harry ignored them, too. “Avada Kedavra. The Killing Curse. It takes power to cast this one, but once you do and your victim isn’t quick on his feet or can block the spell with a solid object, he’s dead. No shield charm can stop this curse and there is no one who has survived being hit.”
Harry absentmindedly rubbed his forehead. No one had survived the curse, yet.
“We will continue with the Unforgivables next lesson. Class dismissed.” With a wave of his wand, all the spells he had cast on the room were lifted.
The students were obviously surprised by the sudden dismissal, but eventually all of them packed their bags and left the classroom. Not one of them was talking and this somehow conveyed the feeling as if they were leaving a funeral. Finally, when the last one was gone, Harry turned again to Ron.
“Are you really alright?”
Ron grinned at him again, and this time the grin really looked like a grin, even though he was still pale. “I’ve been a lot worse. Well, it’s fifth years next, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Harry simply replied and gazed at the door, through which the next students would walk soon. Too soon for Harry’s taste. And for the thousands time since the previous night, he wondered how he could have even gotten this stupid idea of asking Ron to do this for him.
“Oy, mate?” Harry’s head whirled around, startled. Ron was gazing at him pleadingly. “Please… don’t let me sing ‘Weasley is our King’ again!”
Harry laughed and Ron clapped him on the shoulder. If Ron was still able to crack jokes after this class, then maybe they would get through this week after all.
~*~
Neither Ron nor Harry turned up for lunch in the Great Hall. Instead they had a house-elf bring them some sandwiches into Harry’s office. So it was first at dinner that the others saw those two friends again. Harry watched Ron warily, as they walked side by side up to the Head Table. His friend was dragging his feet a bit, as he was obviously completely ragged after four classes, in each of which he had to suffer through the pains of the Cruciatus Curse. He would have liked to send Ron back to their rooms and to bed immediately, but two things were preventing this. For one, it would look very suspicious, if Ron didn’t turn up at dinner, and then Harry also knew that Ron was needed tonight. Because during dinner Ron would announce the big event that would take place at the end of the school year, as it had been his idea.
However, as they sat down at the table, Harry noticed that Hermione was looking at them strangely, but he ignored this look, as he filled his plate with some chicken, and inquired about her day.
“It was a bit… well, hard to teach today… For some reasons, the students that came from your lessons were really distracted,” Hermione told him pointedly. “Care to explain what had them so preoccupied today?”
Harry sighed, as he cut the chicken and answered, “You know that I’ve started on the Unforgivables today. I believe this topic alone is more than enough to distract the students. Don’t you remember how we were, after we’ve been taught about them?”
“Yes, of course,” Hermione said. “But somehow… this was different. Some of the students really seemed to be troubled. I even had to excuse one girl, a seventh year on top of that, because she burst into tears in the middle of an exercise. Just tell me, Harry, what have you done to them?”
“I haven’t done anything to them!” Harry defended himself. “I’ve just taken a leaf out of our teacher’s old book. Maybe she’s been sad about the bunny.”
“You used a bunny?”
“Yeah,” Harry told her. “I thought it would make more of an impression, if something that the students aren’t scared of, will be the victim.”
Ron suddenly barked out a laugh, causing not just Hermione and Harry to look at him curiously, but also the other teachers and a good part of the student body. Harry raised his eyebrow, but Ron just shook his head, grinning widely. “I just remembered something I once saw on Muggle TV back home… There was a show, where one of the characters was deadly afraid of bunnies.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Harry snorted. “Why should someone be afraid of bunnies?”
“Well,” Hermione then began in her ‘teaching voice’, “many fears are pretty irrational. Just look at your fear of spiders, Ron. Spiders are really useful animals and”“
“Yes, but they have way too many legs and way too many eyes… That’s just scary!”
So it went back and forth between the three friends, while they were eating, debating about which fears were reasonable and which were not. It was really silly, Harry thought, but at least this discussion had gotten Hermione off his back.
Finally, just when the first students wanted to leave the Great Hall, after they had finished their dinner, Dumbledore rose and clapped his hands twice, immediately causing all conversations to cease and everyone to look to the Head Table. Harry still marvelled at how easily the entire student body was listening to Dumbledore, especially when he was using a simple gesture as this.
“Before the first of you leave to get some last minute homework done for tomorrow, I would like to have your attention for an announcement our flying instructor, Professor Weasley, would like to make. I assure you, you will all want to hear this.” Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling merrily, as he sat down again and therewith opened the stage for Ron.
The redhead rose and nervously cleared his throat. Harry knew that Ron had never made a speech in front of such a huge crowd of people. Running his hand through his hair, Ron said, “Well, a couple of days ago, I had this idea… You see, I know that times are difficult right now, especially for you, never knowing what’s going on at home, if your families are safe. And because of this, I think you all deserve some fun, something to take your minds off your worries. It was a rather spontaneous idea, believe me, but everyone I told about this was excited. You wonder now, what the hell I’m talking about?”
He grinned mischievously, as he looked around. It was hard not to notice, how everyone, even the Slytherins, were staring at Ron, willing him to continue. There were some calls from the students, as Ron hesitated much longer than necessary, obviously enjoying making them wait. Ron laughed, when one student yelled that he should hurry up.
“Okay, okay… What I’m talking about will take place at the end of the school year, when all the exams are written, on the last day before you return home. It’s… a Quidditch match.” Stunned silence met him at once, but then a student from Gryffindor pointed out that they already played Quidditch. Rubbing his hands excitedly, Ron told them, “Now, that’s the special thing. This Quidditch match won’t be like any other match. This match will be students versus teachers.”
Harry saw that Ron wasn’t finished yet, but whatever he wanted to say next was drowned out by a loud cheer from the students, which immediately turned into a lively and deafening discussion, in which even students of different houses talked to each other. Harry and Ron grinned at each other knowingly, and Harry was aware that the twinkle in Dumbledore’s blue eyes was even stronger. Only Hermione rolled her eyes, most likely mumbling something about Quidditch obsessed boys, but there was still a small grin tugging at her lips.
“NOW!” Ron yelled after a moment and Harry was surprised that the students quickly settled down again. Their heads turned again to Ron and they were now looking at him eagerly, as if they had realized that Ron still hadn’t told them everything they needed to know. “Before I was interrupted so rudely, I wanted to tell you something about the teams. There will just be two teams “ one team for the students, which will consist of the best players of all four Houses, and one team for the teachers, which already stands. Do you want to know, who’s playing?” Of course the students wanted to know and they let him known quite loudly. Ron chuckled. “Okay, first of all, as Keeper there’s yours truly. Seeker will be Professor Potter, the three Chasers will be Professor Hayden, Professor Thatcher and Professor Flitwick. And last but not least, our two Beaters, who will be none others than Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.”
This revelation was met with shocked silence, which quickly developed to excited chatter. Harry was glad that this happened at least at a bearable noise-level, so that Ron had no problems to get the attention of the now clearly excited students once again.
“Alright, that’s the teachers’ team. I’m sure you wonder, how the students’ team will be put together. Now, this is another big surprise. Next Saturday, at the tryouts, an impartial judge will choose the players and the reserve players. I won’t tell you who this judge is, because you’ll see on Saturday, but I assure you, you all know this judge.” Ron winked at them. “Well, I think that’s everything you need to know right now. The Heads of Houses will put lists on your notice boards with the exact date of the tryouts and on which you should put your name, if you want to try out for a position. Thanks for your attention.”
As Ron sat down, the entire student body broke out in applause. Harry clapped him heartily on the back, laughing. “See? I told you they would love this idea!”
~*~
As the week progressed, Ron was constantly cornered, when he was in the halls, with students who wanted to ask questions about the upcoming match in June and, most importantly, about this mysterious judge. They had expected this reaction, but still, it put a lot of strain on Ron, additionally to the already incredibly exhausting and taxing role he played in Harry’s classes that week. After each day, Harry saw that his friend looked paler, especially as dark rings appeared underneath his eyes, giving his already sallow complexion a somewhat haunted look, and Harry grew even more worried for his friend after each time he put them through the excruciating agony of the torture curse.
By Thursday night, Ron just dropped into an armchair in their common room, even too exhausted to go to dinner. Harry, not feeling like going to dinner either, called upon a house-elf, who then brought them some dinner. While Harry was eating, he noticed that Ron didn’t touch his food at all. Immediately the full load of guilt for putting his best friend through his came crashing down on him. Putting his own plate back down on the table, Harry said, “We’ll stop.”
“What?” Ron asked tiredly, barely raising his head an inch from the backrest.
“The lessons,” Harry clarified. “We’ll stop. It’s not worth this, and I should have realized this much sooner. I’m sorry, Ron. I should’ve never asked you.”
Now more alert, Ron turned his pained blue eyes to Harry. “Just what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about my lessons. Tomorrow, I will use animals to show the effect of the curse. I”“
“No,” interrupted Ron him. “I know that you’re talking about the lessons. But what does it mean that you want to stop? Why now? It’s just one more day. You know that the effect will be much greater with me. I can get through that.”
“Can get through what?” Hermione’s voice suddenly asked from the doorway.
Harry’s and Ron’s wide surprised eyes turned to Hermione, who was frowning at them. “Nothing,” Ron answered with a weak laugh. “Just bearing the questions of the students about the Quidditch match. They’re really annoying, you know?”
“Don’t lie to me, Ronald Weasley,” Hermione whispered through gritted teeth. Her fists were balled so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Ron flinched under her gaze, and when her head whipped around to Harry, this young man winced as well. “Bunnies, huh? Harry Potter, I can’t believe this! All week, I didn’t want to realize this, but I can’t turn a blind eye to this any longer. Just what the bloody hell were you thinking?” she screeched.
Harry hung his head ashamed, not knowing what to say, but he didn’t need to, as Ron suddenly spoke up. “Harry didn’t want to do this,” Ron told her, almost in a whisper. “He just presented this idea. I could tell how much he hated himself, when he asked me. I could’ve said no, but I saw his point. Hermione, the students need to know! No animal could convey the impression of what the victim really goes through. And it’s just a few seconds, anyway. I can take this.”
“Even a few seconds under the Cruciatus Curse are too much, Ron,” Hermione said, and Harry saw the tears in her eyes, as her whole body was trembling. “Nothing is worth experiencing this pain.”
“You’re wrong,” Ron told her, slowly rising from the armchair, wincing with every movement. He carefully walked up to her and gently grabbed her shoulders. “Look at me, Hermione.” She slowly raised her eyes to meet his. “The students are worth this. We are living in dark times, ‘Mione, and they really need to know. They need to be scared away from the curses. Many junior Death Eaters had no idea what they were dealing with until they had already taken the Mark. And then, it was already too late. Not many of them are as lucky as Malfoy. Do you understand?”
They were looking at each other for a long time, and Harry noticed that Hermione was lost in her thoughts, until she finally nodded. “I see your point. But you’re both so stupid,” she mumbled eventually, now looking at both of them. “If… if you had told me, I could’ve helped you.”
“How?” Harry asked, as he too rose from his chair and went to them.
Hermione’s eyes met his with a determined gaze, as her back straightened almost unconsciously. “Ron and I could’ve taken turns. We could’ve shared this burden. As a matter of fact, I think Ron should stay in bed tomorrow and I will take his place.”
“’Mione!” Ron shouted. “No!”
But Harry simply looked at her and, after a moment, nodded. “Alright.” It was only one more day. And he knew that the look in Hermione’s eyes allowed no arguments. No matter how much it would hurt both of them, tomorrow Hermione would be lying on the ground, screaming and writhing in pain.
For this, Harry knew, he would be burning in hell.
Harry Potter and the Impossibility of Time Travel by ChibiChibi
Chapter Notes: A/N: Thanks again for the great reviews and waiting so patiently for my updates. Right now, I’m working at my Bachelor Thesis, which is about ‘Myth, Legend and History in Harry Potter’. Isn’t it great to write an important paper like this about a book you love so much? Well, I think so anyway. ^^ Anyway, I have to hand it in until May 21, so I’m really really busy… Don’t expect a new chapter until I’ve handed the Bachelor Thesis in.
So, I don’t want to bore you any longer! Have fun reading this chapter!