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Batch 20: Canon Era (11) - The Phantom Librarian
Spewing out too many words since November 2003
Batch 20: Canon Era (11)
(No, I'm not really writing like a maniac today; I just had the others nearly done. These are all on the same theme, quite by accident--so are tomorrow's--so I figured I'd put them in chronological order.)

could you write about what was Molly weasley's thoughts as she read the skeeter article about harry and Hermione? I mean it seems like the thing for her to do, since she is close minded a lot of times, but hermione has been going to their house most summers or exchanging letters with ron, so i can't figure out why molly would think hermione was after harry for natalie
Arthur had told her to ignore the article. "It's Rita Skeeter, Molly... you know what she's like. Hermione probably annoyed her about something, and this is her revenge. You know she's not really playing Harry false."

A part of Molly knew that was true, just as she'd had her suspicions at the time of the first article that Harry had not "finally found true love" with Hermione. She'd certainly seen no signs of it, and she'd thought that Hermione had rather fancied Ron... but she hadn't gone to the Yule Ball with Ron. Ginny had said that it was Ron's own fault, but still...

Well, she didn't go with Harry either, did she? She went with that Quidditch player.

That, somehow was what had rankled... that, and that she was apparently considering visiting him halfway around the world, alone. Skeeter liked to bend the truth to say what she wanted it to say, but she wasn't known for simply making things like that up.

Ron hadn't said anything in his letter to her after the Yule Ball, at least not directly. But every third word was "Krum," and none of the other words had been friendly. Though he hadn't admitted it, it was plain to Molly that Hermione had hurt him with her little games--"She wouldn't even tell me, just teased me with it for weeks, and made me look like an idiot at the Ball!"--and that didn't speak well for her.

And if she had been toying with Harry as well...

"Mother, I doubt that you need to spend time worrying about this," Percy said when she showed him the article. "They're in fourth year. I doubt anyone is imagining a permanent arrangement with anyone else. Were you serious about Dad that far back?"


"Why, when I was a fourth year, I fancied Cathleen Mullet! Not at all my type."

"But they feel things very intensely. I worry."

"In most matters," Percy said loftily, "Hermione Granger is quite sensible. She'd have no reason to play the sorts of games that Skeeter is implying."

Molly didn't press the issue. She had played a few games of her own when she was young and trying to get Arthur to notice her, but that was hardly something she could talk to her sons about.

And she found that when it was her boys being played with, the games seemed a lot less amusing.

Charlie's letter on the subject was as impatient as Arthur's tone tended to be. Come off it, Mum, he'd written. So what if Hermione is meeting a few boys other than Harry and Ron? Look at all the girls Bill went with! Did you ever accuse him of playing them false? Of course not--no one expects these things to last forever. If they did, I'd probably still be pining over Tonks (you remember the girl with hair you called so odd for such a nice thing?), and Bill... well, Bill would be married to the first girl he took to Hogsmeade, and I can't even remember who she was. So Hermione went on a date with Krum. I've seen him play Quidditch--hell, I'd go on a date with him if he asked, just to talk about the Wronski Feint. He seems a decent sort of bloke. Don't blow it out of proportion.

She'd talked to Bill over the Floo, and he'd said something quite similar, though he hadn't had quite Charlie's enthusiasm for Krum. She'd considered writing to Dumbledore to find out about it, but couldn't quite bring herself to do it.

She took out a picture that Arthur had taken of Ron, Harry, and Hermione this summer and looked at it for a long time. Hermione was sitting in the garden laughing at a gnome. Ron was oriented to her, grinning crazily. Harry was looking for another gnome. She couldn't see anything in it that was off.

But she wouldn't be satisfied until she heard it from Hermione Granger's mouth.

something with harry-hermione friendship? like maybe ron goes missing again or something? or, if it's easier, make it deathly hallows time, and like shortly after Ron leaves before they go all infamous "not talking each other for weeks and not mentioning Ron at all" they try to reasure each other there is a chance of Ron coming back? either which makes harry more of a "i love her like a sister" type of attitude. for harriet-weasley-longbottom
"Where are we?" Harry asked. "This doesn't look safe. It's too open."

"It's as safe as the moors," Hermione said. "We should be near Broadlands."

Harry looked around uneasily while she cast the protective spells. It was winter bleak, but he could tell he was in a lush part of the world. The grass was thick and the trees old and well cared-for. Beyond that, he couldn't have begun to tell you where he was. "Broadlands" sounded familiar, but he hadn't exactly spent his childhood touring the country. He'd seen more of it in the last two months than he'd seen in seventeen years, and this camping trip from hell wasn't exactly the best way he could think of to develop a deep and abiding love for his homeland.

"We might be able to stay a couple of days," Hermione said. "This is a very Muggle part of the country. They may not be wandering here yet."

"Unless they're baiting the Muggles."

She sighed. "I know."

Harry set up the tent without saying any more. He was wearing the Horcrux, and his thoughts were muddy and bitter. He could hear Ron saying, over and over, that he didn't know what he was doing, where they were going. And it was true. One more damned thing to find, and one more thing he had no idea where to look for.

Hermione got a fire going. "I was thinking--could it be in a Muggle place?"


"The sword of Gryffindor?" She looked at him oddly. "Or should we switch back to the Horcruxes for now?"

"It won't do any good if we can't destroy them. But don't ask me--remember, I don't know what I'm doing."

She looked like she might be about to launch into an "encourage Harry" speech, but instead, she just said, "We'll find it. Or it will find us."

"I doubt it's looking. It's probably back at Hogwarts."

They looked at each other, aware that the subject had shifted, in its way, to something else.

"It... the sword, I mean," Hermione said. "It always finds its way back to help a true Gryffindor."

"Right. I saw it running up to Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. And I'll bet it was in my parents' parlor, just waiting to be picked up."

"Harry, take off the Horcrux. We're secure."

A wild rebellion raced through Harry's head. He'd keep the Horcrux on. He'd run away, like Ron had. He'd find Voldemort and shove it in his face and yell, "I've got it, you idiot!" and then...

And then Voldemort would kill him, hide the Horcrux again, and take over.

He shook his head and took the Horcrux off, putting it in Hermione's bag. The irritability faded immediately, leaving him low and cold.

"Better?" she asked.

"If you can call it that."

"I know what you mean. I wish..." But they didn't say Ron's name these days, and Hermione was very clearly clipping it out of the conversation. "Things will get better," she said. "They'll be all right again."

"Sure they will." They sat in silence, and Harry started to feel guilty--Hermione, after all, had taken an even bigger blow than he had when Ron left. "Maybe things happen for a reason," he said. "Maybe... well, maybe we'll find out later that... you know. That there's a reason."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Why not? Stranger things have happened. Maybe there'll be a turn in the road, and we'll find... the sword of Gryffindor. Or, you know, something that we left behind. Or something that we needed."

"Right," Hermione said. "And if it doesn't? If there's nothing around the turn in the road?"

"Then we go to the next turn. And remember that my map doesn't work out here."

She smiled faintly. "Can we look at it anyway? I'm homesick."

Harry opened up the Marauder's Map, and they looked at it together, but wanting dreading the return of a name neither one of them was speaking.

THE kiss from Hermione's PoV for Em*Weasley

[Obviously, if this were part of a longer scenario, I'd spend more time worrying at the battle, but since the challenge is R/Hr, I'm skimming over the non-kiss-related stuff.]
Hermione wasn't sure how long it had been building up.

Oh, not the wanting to kiss Ron. That had been more or less constant for years. She couldn't quite pinpoint the beginning of it, except that it was at some point before the troll. He'd just always seemed rather kissable, though he'd never shown much interest in the subject until fourth year, when it was a bit late, and she'd wanted to leave him twisting in the wind. At the end of last year, they'd even given in to it... though they'd both been rather careful not to let Harry know, as they were worried about him feeling left out.

The wanting... that was a constant.

What was new was the pressing need to kiss him, the overwhelming, mind-blocking desire to grab him, push him against the wall, and try to suck his toenails out through his mouth. That had started sometime after Gringotts, and before the Hog's Head. She supposed it had been when Harry had said they were going to Hogwarts, and that Voldemort knew they were coming. It would be a battle. A big one. She supposed it was logical enough that her body was demanding certain perks she'd denied it.

There could not have been a worse time for an epic battle with her hormones--they were in the middle of evacuating Hogwarts, a huge battle was coming, and there were three Horcruxes left to destroy, one of which hadn't even been found yet, the others of which were indestructable. It was no time to be indulging fantasies about--

She clamped her teeth together, hard, and scraped them to make the nerves scream. Ron was still concentrating on trying to make the second door the Chamber of Secrets open (the first, up in Myrtle's bathroom, had taken three tries; this was his second here). The pallid light of her wand cast shadows on his soaking tee shirt, deepening the lines of his muscles and--

The door popped open, and they ran inside. The basilisk's skull still rested on the floor. She could even see prints from Harry's trainers. Apparently, no one had come down to investigate, which probably made sense, as no one else was a Parselmouth, and Ron seemed to be the only one who'd tried to memorize what Harry said. It had been so clever, and--

She grabbed a bit of flesh near her elbow, and twisted hard, getting her mind back in the business at hand. Conjuring armor for their hands, they broke off the long, curved basilisk fangs--they'd function perfectly well as deadly daggers. Ron hefted one carefully, examining the point. He lowered it to a most unfortunate level in silhouette.

"We should try it," Ron said.

Hermione jumped. "What?"

"The fangs. We should try one. Have a go with the Horcrux." He tossed her the cup.

"You should."

"I already did. I'd just as soon keep that nasty fantasy to myself."



"What did it show you?"

"I'll tell you when all of this is over. But it'll show you nasty things. Don't believe them."

Hermione set the cup down on the flat stone and raised a basilisk fang over it.

"You DARE?" it thundered.

"I do dare," she said, but her voice trembled.

"You are NOTHING. A too-clever daughter of no one, born to nothing. You don't belong here. You don't belong in this world, and you never will."

Hermione backed up. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and Ron said, "If that's the best it can do, it's running low on ideas. You're in this world. And I'm keeping you in it."

The Horcrux continued to talk, but Hermione could only feel that hand on her shoulder, hear Ron's voice. She pulled the basilisk fang up as high as she could and slammed it down. Something screamed. And then was gone.

The cup lay before her, ruined.

She turned to Ron. She could feel his heart beating fast, even though they weren't close enough for her to feel it. His face was red.

"We should--" he said.

"--get back to the fight," she said.

He nodded. They got onto the broom, bundling the basilisk fangs and tying them onto the tail. Hermione held on tight, feeling his muscles moving as they flew. They crashed as they came out of the pipe in the bathroom--there was hardly room for maneuvering here--and the fangs flew everywhere. She gathered them up magically and nearly ran head on into Harry as they left.

"Where in the hell have you been?" he asked, and between them, they managed to cough out the story. Hermione tried not to show too much enthusiasm for how impressive Ron had been, but she thought some might have sneaked out... though she doubted Harry noticed as he led them to the Room of Requirement.

And she shouldn't be thinking about it. Not now. Not as they evacuated Neville's Gran, Tonks, and Ginny from the only safe place they had. Though in later years, Hermione would try to convince herself that she thought they would find somewhere safe to be, at the time, there hadn't been a chance to worry. It had seemed like they were just accounting for everyone's whereabouts before they went on to what might have been the last step.

"Hang on a moment!" Ron said abruptly. "We've forgotten someone."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"The house-elves! They'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"

Harry guessed that Ron meant for the house elves to fight, but Hermione knew better, knew it before he even said anything. He wasn't thinking of how they'd be useful. He was protecting creatures smaller and weaker than he was, thinking of them as people, as 'Dobbies'...

She lost her fight.

She dropped the basilisk fangs with a great clatter and flew at Ron, throwing her arms around him, kissing him like it was the last thing she would do in her life. She felt his arms come around her, smelled his skin, felt his pulse in time with her own. Her head began to clear, like she'd finally found water after years of wandering in the desert. The mirages faded. Her brain cooled. She could go on now.

"Is this the moment?" Harry asked.
5 comments or Leave a comment
From: (Anonymous) Date: January 24th, 2012 01:25 pm (UTC) (Link)

i loved it and it was perfect and I can Totally imagine hermione push and pull mentality over it till it's I can die any minute screw this, come here and kiss me!

you're amazing

etain_antrim From: etain_antrim Date: January 24th, 2012 06:01 pm (UTC) (Link)
Very nice, both. Molly is so focused on her children, isn't she? And Hermione's struggle to maintain a grip is so like her!
jedi_chick From: jedi_chick Date: January 25th, 2012 12:02 am (UTC) (Link)
I love that Molly sought advice from not only Arthur, but her older sons as well, and that she even flirted briefly with asking Dumbledore. Great job of capturing her whirlwind of thoughts. :) I loved the other two as well; the way Harry and Hermione were having a conversation about one thing but meant another seemed spot on to me, and Hermione's fluttering of thoughts about Ron in the third one made me smile. It ended on the perfect line. Thanks for writing these!
From: (Anonymous) Date: January 25th, 2012 01:07 am (UTC) (Link)
definitely love like a sister.

he's angry, he says things he doesnt mean. he realizes he's being stupid and tries to make her feel better. while showing they get along but they also can't work just the of them, they need ron' without talking about ron.

it felt oddly perfectly in canon


From: (Anonymous) Date: January 25th, 2012 01:35 am (UTC) (Link)
wow, you're take on it was interesting.

I didn't imagined the reason why Molly would react like that to Hermione was because she thought she was playing games with Ron. and yet, it makes total sense.

after all Molly going all overbearing protective IS her biggest quality- and it seems also flaw.

love that everyone else told her off about being paranoid. even percy!

pity she still send the revenge egg- or is this after?

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