Inevitable Missing Scene: Cold

[mhalachai]

Inevitable Fifty-Five: Cold
by Mhalachai
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. J.K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter. Only the story is my own.
Note: Set after the end of chapter fifty-four of Inevitable. It's Ron POV, as Harry is noticeably absent. Although it's all about our boy. Very important!

~~~~~~~

"Ron?"

He came instantly awake, the pressure on his shoulder and the edge in Hermione's whisper shattering his dreams. "What?"

She shushed him. He blinked hard in the darkness, wondering why Hermione was in the boy's dorm in the middle of the night, and what was wrong. "Ginny's missing."

Ron sat up. "What?"

"One of her roommates came to get me," Hermione said in the softest voice imaginable. "It's the second night in a row, she said. Ginny's not in the common room or in the girls' toilet or anywhere in the tower I can find."

Rob rubbed his face, trying to think. He spared a glance at Harry's bed, and was both relieved and worried to see his best friend in his bed, dead asleep.

"Go downstairs, I'll meet you in the common room," Ron told Hermione, not being able to resist touching her hair. "Give me a second."

She nodded and slipped out of the room as quiet as a mouse. Ron watched her go, then bent over to pick up his trainers. He crossed the room quietly to Harry's trunk. The lid lifted silently, letting Ron grope around in the box for the soft folds of cloth of Harry's Invisibility cloak.

Luck was with him, and the cloak didn't snag on anything as he pulled it from the trunk. He stood, cloak in one hand and shoes in the other, and looked down at Harry in the faint light. Harry was curled up in a tight ball, covered in comforters, one hand flung out toward the side table, where his wand lay.

Ron considered for one second, then discarded the next, the idea of waking Harry for his help. If Ginny was in the kind of trouble Ron imagined, the last thing she'd need was Harry.

Hermione was pacing back and forth in front of the fire in the common room when Ron made it down the stairs. She waited until he was sitting on a couch, lacing up his shoes, before she spoke.

"It's not like Ginny to do this," Hermione said. "Is it?"

Ron shook his head. "Usually if she can't sleep, she stays in the common room. At home, she's usually in the kitchen."

"What?" Hermione said, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Ron pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Fred told me, he'd sneak down here a lot with George after-hours, and he used to find Ginny sitting up, reading or something. It's the same thing at home. Sometimes, she just can't sleep."

"Why not?"

Ron shrugged, although he knew exactly why Ginny couldn't sleep, and when it started. He couldn't tell Hermione, not without asking Ginny first. It wasn't his story to tell. "You're sure she's not in the bathroom?"

Hermione shook her head. "Very sure. I checked in her dorm, all over the place, too."

"Brilliant." Ron picked up the Invisibility cloak and pulled it over his shoulders.

"Where are you going to look?" Hermione demanded.

"I'll start with the infirmary, and then go from there."

"You'll get in trouble," Hermione said doubtfully.

Ron managed a grin. "That's why I'm going, and not you." He fasted the cloak so only his head was showing, and bent down to kiss Hermione on the cheek. He knew himself; if he kissed her properly, he'd get distracted. Sometimes, it worried how much he loved her. "I'll find her."

"Then will you tell me what's going on?" she asked, eyes wide. "I know it's something bad, it has to be, but--"

"If Ginny wants me to tell you, I will. If not... I just..."

"No, it's okay." Hermione managed to smile. "I get it."

No, you don't, Ron thought. You don't have any sisters. You never had to listen to your baby sister screaming night after night, with nightmares about being eaten alive by snakes and being possessed by evil. "I'll be back soon. Come on, come ask the Fat Lady if Ginny came out at all."

Ron flipped the hood of the cloak up and waited as Hermione opened the portrait hole, then climbed out after her. He only listened to a fraction of the conversation, making his way down the corridor as soon as the Fat Lady irately told Hermione that yes, Ginny had left hours before.

It was the quietest time of night. Ron couldn't remember ever being out so late. The portraits snored as he made his way down the darkened hallways. He couldn't risk a light.

He didn't know where he was going. Ginny wouldn't be in the infirmary. She never went in there, even when she was sick. The only thing Ron could think of was Moaning Myrtle's toilet, for a host of disturbing reasons.

Part of Ron wanted Ginny to be there, so he could just drag her back up to the Gryffindor common room and be done with it. The other part of him hoped that Ginny wasn't there, wasn't hiding in the place that almost killed her so many years before.

She wasn't there.

Not sure where to look, Ron wandered around for a while. Ginny wasn't in any of the classrooms he peeked into, or in the study hall. He had just decided that he was going to have to brave the library, when he caught sight of movement on the stairs, high above in the tower.

Ginny sat halfway up the stairs to the fourth floor, leaning against the banisters, staring at nothing. Ron pushed down the hood of the cloak as he climbed the steps; even so, Ginny didn't see him until he was a few feet away. She started violently, lifting her hand, then closed her eyes and rested her head against the stone. "You'll get in trouble, being out so late," was the first thing she said.

"I'll get in trouble?" Ron tried to joke. He sat beside her and flung the cloak around her shoulders too, so they were both mostly invisible. "You're the one who's out."

Ginny sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. "So what?"

"So nothing." Ron could feel how cold she was, and wished Mum was there, to be able to figure out how to fix this. "Why are you out here?"

Ginny shrugged. "Just because."

"Is it because of Harry?" Ron guessed.

"No." Ginny pulled the edge of the cloak closer around her bare feet. "Maybe."

"What happened? Was this because of what he was asking Slughorn on Saturday?"

"How-- Oh, Hermione." Ginny sighed. "He's just... I don't know. He's lying and he pretending he's not. And he's always there when I need to be alone."

"Is he, you know, bothering you?"

"No. Not like that, so don't be getting ideas," Ginny said. "I can't be around him when he's talking about Tom, and pretending he doesn't know things that he should."

A trickle of ice ran down Ron's spine. "Tom?"

"What?"

"You said Tom," Ron said carefully.

"No, I didn't, I said Voldemort," Ginny said, her voice a little fast.

"You said Tom." Ron tried to think of something to say, something that was actually useful, something that didn't involve him having hysterics on the steps that Ginny was calling You-Know-Who "Tom", like she knew him.

Like she'd been possessed by him when she was just a little girl.

"No, I didn't," Ginny whispered, letting her head sink to her knees. "I didn't."

Ron put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her. She was small, like the twins and their mum, but not stocky like Fred or George; just a little slip of a thing, even smaller than Hermione. She'd always been smaller than him, always trying to keep up, always running after him, wanting to play. When he was a little boy, he'd thought it was embarrassing, had been so glad to go away to Hogwarts that first year and leave her behind.

He'd tried to ignore her, her first year at school. Her crush on his best friend was bad enough.

Could he have seen it, if he'd been paying attention? He had asked himself that question a million times. That first summer, after the mess with the Chamber of Secrets, he'd lain awake in his bed night after night, listening to Ginny talk in her sleep, arguing with someone, screaming in fear, pleading for someone to help her. His mum was always there, trying to calm her, but every night, it took an eternity in the dark, while Ron stared at his ceiling, blaming himself.

He knew the twins and Percy heard it too. Everyone had big black circles under their eyes, but no one would talk about it. Mum was always so cheerful in the morning, cooking breakfast like nothing happened, coming up with all kinds of projects to keep Ginny busy, pushing the best things to eat on her. Before, everyone always complained if Mum showed any favoritism among all the kids. After that summer, no one did.

"Why don't you come back to the common room?" Ron suggested. "Harry's sleeping, he won't come down."

Ginny didn't answer.

"I can ask him not to bother you," Ron suggested. "Look, I heard he asked Luna to Hogsmeade, but--"

Ginny sat up. "Oh, not that," she said impatiently. "Luna was trying to ask him for me, but he didn't get it and thought she wanted to go with him. He never gets it. He never gets anything to do with girls. He's just so stupid."

"Sure is." Ron tried to make a joke, but he didn't find this conversation at all funny.

"Would it bother you if he was interested in me?" Ginny asked bluntly.

"Yes!" Ron exclaimed without thinking. "He's..."

"He's what? Ginny demanded. "He's your best friend!"

"He got weird over the summer," Ron said, voicing for the first time the thing that had been bothering him for weeks. "He's suddenly got all those nice clothes, and a vampire for a grandfather, and he's not telling us everything!"

"Oh, don't start that vampire thing again!" Ginny exclaimed. "I thought you dealt with that! Even Dumbledore knows about it!"

"It's not that! You didn't see him kiss that woman at the train station!" The instant the words left his mouth, Ginny stiffened up, and Ron wanted to kick himself. "I mean, he's too sure of himself, like he knows something about himself that he won't tell us." He shifted uncomfortably. "And he keeps smelling you."

"What?" Ginny asked, startled.

"He keeps sniffing your hair when he's sitting next to you," Ron said. "Same with Hermione, and all the girls. It's not really noticeable, but he's doing it."

"He's smelling us," Ginny repeated.

"Yeah." Ron began to get a little red. Sure, girls smelled nice, but you weren't supposed to go around sniffing at their hair in public!

Ginny shifted beside Ron. "You're crazy," she said after a moment. "But I agree with you about him being weird. It's like he took a vacation and everything went strange."

"We went on vacation to Egypt and we didn't go all weird," Ron grumbled, very happy to have changed the topic.

"That's because we went on vacation because I went strange," Ginny said.

"We went to visit Bill," Ron said, frowning. "Because Mum and Dad won that money from the Daily Prophet contest."

Ginny sighed. "You've got the observational skills of a raisin scone sometimes. Do you honestly think there was nothing else they could have spent seven hundred Galleons on? I know it was because of what happened to me." The bitter tone that Ron hated hearing in her voice was back. "I mean, they could have bought so many things with all that gold."

"Hey," Ron said roughly. "Don't think like that." Like they wouldn't spend everything they had just to make you better.

"Right." Ginny slithered out from under the cloak and stood shivering on the steps. "We should get back to the tower before sunrise."

Ron stood up. "Come on, we should both be under here. Save us a detention."

"It's four in the morning, Ron, no one's out." Ginny stepped under the cloak, and Ron carefully raised the hood to cover their heads. "This is a very large cloak."

"You should have seen the three of us under it in first year," Ron told her as they navigated their way down the steps. "I have no idea how we never tripped."

"Magic," Ginny said, yawning.

In spite of the darkness, they didn't fall over on their way down the stairs and along the halls. They were both silent, careful not to attract attention from the passing portraits.

Ginny heard the distant noise first. She grabbed Ron's hand, then together they pressed back against the wall. Ron pulled his wand out of his pajama pocket and tried not to breathe, hoping his heart pounding in his chest wasn't as loud as it sounded to him. A thousand wild thoughts ran through his mind. It could be a teacher, or an Auror, or Filch...

... or Wormtail or Bellatrix Lestrange or even Voldemort.

A light shone around the corner. Slowly, someone rounded the corner, a levitating torch floating off to the side. Ron almost fell over in relief. It was Dumbledore.

Dumbledore appeared to be reading a book as he slowly walked down the corridor. Neither Ron nor Ginny moved as the Headmaster paced slowly past them, then stopped and turned around. He closed the book in his hands and seemed to look directly at them. "Mr. Weasley. Miss Weasley."

Ron's heart sank. Guilty, he lowered the hood of the Invisibility cloak. "Sir."

"Hello, sir," Ginny echoed.

Dumbledore looked at them sternly. "You are both aware, no doubt, that curfew was many hours ago."

Ron ducked his head, as Ginny said, "Yes, sir," in a whisper.

"I am going to have to take points off the both of you." Dumbledore's gaze bored into them. "Ten points from Gryffindor." His gaze softened slightly. "I was going in the direction of Gryffindor tower, if I may walk with you?"

Ginny slipped out of the Invisibility cloak. "Aren't you out awfully late, sir?" she asked.

"I suppose I am," Dumbledore said as they began to walk. "When one gets to be my age, Miss Weasley, sleep no longer seems as necessary."

"Why not?"

"One of the many unanswered questions of life, I suppose," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Now, how are you both finding your classes this year?"

Ron mumbled something under his breath about Charms as he pulled off the now-useless Invisibility cloak. Ginny, however, took up the conversation. "Potions has been really neat. Professor Slughorn is really into the class."

"He has been raving about your skills, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore told her. "I trust that your studying is proving fruitful?"

Ginny nodded hard. "Yes, the books has a fascinating section on silver-based potions." Her voice faltered. "But, sir, you said that the student who wrote in my book... did you know him?"

"I did, Miss Weasley. Why do you ask?"

"It's just..." Ginny shrugged. "He was brilliant at Potions, but he just seems so unhappy."

Dumbledore sighed. "That can happen, Miss Weasley. It is one of the perils of being the very best at any task. You are left wondering what lies outside, what you are missing."

"But what happened to him?" Ginny pressed, her voice rising. "I found some of those curses you told me not to try, and they're just so angry! There's this one, all it says is 'For Enemies', no note of what it's for, but whenever I look at it I just--" She put her hands up as if she was trying to push something away. "It's like it's getting inside my head and bad and I don't know why!"

"Ginny," Ron interrupted. He caught her hands and pushed them down. "It's just a class, right?" He knew she'd been studying Potions a lot, but he'd always been too busy with his own studies to see what she was really doing. Was he missing something again?

"If the book is becoming too much--" Dumbledore began.

"No!" Ginny interrupted. "I'm fine, I am! It's just sometimes I'm wondering if the fact that I'm starting to understand means I'm starting to think like him. Whoever he was."

Dumbledore gave her a piercing gaze. "I doubt it, Miss Weasley," he finally said. "You have something that the potions student did not."

"What?"

"People who cared for him." Dumbledore's glance slid to Ron as he spoke. "Ah, here we are."

The Fat Lady wasn't very impressed with being roused again, but she grudgingly swung the portrait open for Ginny and Ron.

"Oh, and one last thing," Dumbledore said.

Ron turned, one foot already through the portrait hole.

"It would behoove you both to keep the school rules in mind." With that, Dumbledore gave a nod and walked away.

"No kidding," Ron muttered, and slipped into the common room, Ginny on his heels.

Hermione was sitting bolt upright on the sofa, waiting for them. She glanced at Ron before sinking back into the cushions with a groan.

Ginny walked stiffly to an armchair by the fire. "Aren't you going to ask where I was?" she said.

"No." Hermione pushed her hair back as Ron dropped the Invisibility cloak to the side and sat next to her.

"Why not?" Ginny pressed. "Nothing about getting Gryffindor in trouble?"

"No," Hermione snapped. "I've been thinking about Harry."

Ginny threw her hands in the air. "Of course. All everybody thinks about is Harry!"

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione hissed, glancing anxiously at the stairs to the dorms. "You know how he is, he could be up any moment."

"It isn't even five in the morning, Hermione," Ron said. He was beginning to feel a little fuzzy around the edges, from being up so late.

"Yes, but he's either up at the crack of dawn, going to see Hagrid, or he sleeps past breakfast," she said. "He went to bed early last night, so he's probably going to be up soon."

"So now you're monitoring his sleep patterns?" Ginny demanded. "What's next, taking his temperature?"

"Maybe!" Hermione snapped back. "He's not acting normally!"

"Has it occurred to either of you to just ask him what's wrong?" Ron asked, letting his head drop into his hands.

"Why don't you?" Ginny said. "You seem to be getting along famously these days."

"Enough!" Hermione whispered harshly. "I think we all agree that we think Harry's not telling us everything?"

Ron and Ginny glared at each other for a few moments. Ron was the first to mumble, "Agreed."

"And it's probably not related to anything to do with his grandfather."

"Why do you say that?" Ginny asked. "It started this summer, right? Who's to say it doesn't have anything to do with what happened in St. Louis?"

A niggling thought scratched at the back of Ron's consciousness. Something he'd seen. Something he knew, if only he could dig the information out of his head, but he was just so tired.

"What do we know happened to him over the summer?" Hermione asked anxiously, bending forward, her wild hair falling in front of her face like a curtain. "He went to St. Louis. He stayed with Anita Blake, a necromancer, for a month. He met his vampire grandfather and from the looks of those photographs, made friends with other vampires and werewolves."

Werewolves.

No.

Comprehension crashed over Ron like an icy wave, washing away the confusion in his head and leaving him breathless.

"Ron? What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

Ron licked his lips and turned his head. "What did you just say?" he asked, distantly surprised how normal his voice sounded.

"She was talking about Harry's new friends," Ginny said, standing up. "Why?"

Ron swallowed. "I, uh, I saw Harry in the shower yesterday." Ginny raised her eyebrows, and it was enough to make Ron blush. He shot to his feet. "That's not what I mean! I saw his back!"

"And?" Hermione said.

"And he's got these claw marks all over his back, fresh scars!" Ron exclaimed. "He said he was playing with a dog over the summer. What if--"

Ginny was shaking her head. "You're mental," she informed him. "There is no way Harry was infected by a werewolf!"

Hermione, on the other hand, looked as pale as Ron had ever seen her. "It makes sense," she said breathlessly. "The temper, his changed appetite, how he keeps smelling everyone--"

"Am I the only one who hasn't noticed the smelling?" Ginny asked. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking alarming like her mother. "This is insane! And even if you're right, so what? Remus is a werewolf, and he's not in the least bit dangerous the other days of the month!"

"Remus has been a werewolf since he was seven," Hermione pointed out. "He can contain it the other days of the month. A newly infected lycanthrope is far more dangerous, no matter how much..." Her voice tapered off. "Oh, what are we going to do?"

A horrified silence fell in the room. Finally, Ron shook his head. "We're going to ask him."

"Ron--"

"No! I'm sick of not talking about this!" Ron looked from Ginny to Hermione. "This isn't something stupid he's done, this is huge! I'm sick of trying to figure out what he's not telling us!"

"What if he doesn't want to tell us?" Ginny asked.

Ron sighed, scuffing the toe of his worn trainer against the edge of the sofa. "Then we know where we stand with him, don't we?"

Ginny clenched her jaw. "I guess we do."

"Hold it, the both of you!" Hermione said, standing up. "You can't be serious about this!"

"Why not?" Ginny challenged. "He's supposed to be your best friend, how can he not tell you something like this?"

"How would you feel?" Hermione asked. "Trying to deal with being infected as a werewolf, with all the mess that's happening with You-Know-Who--"

"He needs support, I get that!" Ron exclaimed. "We can be supportive. We'll be so damned supportive he won't know what hit him!"

"Are you able to do that?" Ginny asked. "You freaked out about Damian."

Ron took a deep breath. He wasn't proud of what he'd done, how he'd reacted about the talk of vampire children, especially before Harry had informed them it was his mother. "I'm not going to freak out about Harry on this," he said.

"Ron..." Hermione said gently.

"I am! Come on, it's Harry!"

Hermione closed the distance between them, and hugged him tight. "I've never wanted to be wrong so much in my life," she whispered.

Ron put his arms around her, wondering if he could just shut out the world forever. "I know."

If Harry was a werewolf, well, they'd deal with it. But it just wasn't fair, to have that happen on top of everything else.

Looking over Hermione's head, Ron saw Ginny, watching them warily. What was he going to do about Ginny? He knew how much she liked Harry, even if Harry himself was clueless about it.

Having his best friend date his sister was one thing. Having it be a werewolf was a whole different matter, never mind what Remus and Tonks were up to.

Ron closed his eyes. Not for the first time, he wondered how different his life would have been, if he had never met Harry Potter.

*insert ominous music here!*