Everyone's Out to Get You

Ginny's heart hammered in her chest as she tried to calm down. They'd won! She'd been so focused on what she was doing, she could hardly remember if she'd been worried.

Gryffindor celebrated well into the night. They'd destroyed Slytherin, more than making up for last year's defeat. It was hard to believe it, but they'd done it.

"Everyone, shut up!" Ron shouted. "Our fearless leader's gonna make a speech!"

Ginny smiled and turned her attention to Harry, who caught her eye and shrugged.

"Good work, everyone!" he said. "Or, as Oliver Wood would've said, 'Not bad for a practice match!'"

The few people who knew who Wood was laughed, Ginny included.

"Seriously, we've got a great team this year. Our Beaters, Brett and Steven Nertlyn!"

A round of applause went out for the brothers, who received plenty of violent pats on the back.

"Our one-of-a-kind Keeper, Ron 'Cohort' Weasley!"

Harry grabbed Ron and pulled him closer with one arm as the common room applauded.

"Our Chasers, Demelza Robins, Jonathon Nertlyn, and last, but not least by a long shot, Ginny 'The Firecracker' Weasley!"

Ginny blushed when Harry put his other arm around her and pulled her in.

"Every point we scored today was thanks in part to Ginny here," Harry said. "Those fake-outs were her idea, and Ron here pitched in — no pun intended — to show us how to get around the best of Keepers."

"And of course," Ron added, "when we needed to really stick it to Slytherin, who could've grabbed the Snitch from right under their noses but Harry Potter!"

The common room applauded again, and Ginny managed a smile. For one night, she forgot about Rose and Macnair. For that night, she was just the Chaser for Gryffindor, and one of Harry Potter's best friends. For that night, that was enough.

Ron never realized how hard it was to get someone alone to talk until Harry stopped wearing his ring. Otherwise, Ron would've waited until everyone else was asleep to talk to his friend, but with Harry having a normal sleep schedule, Ron had to try cornering him during the day.

Every time he tried to catch Harry after class, he ended up intercepted by a teacher. Monday before lunch, it was Professor Burbage, complementing the essay he'd written in Muggle Studies and asking him about Hermione. On their way to lunch, it was Professor McGonagall, discussing his time as Head Boy, congratulating them both on Quidditch, and asking about Hermione.

Tuesday morning, they had Defence Against the Dark Arts, after which Professor Lupin talked with them, and asked about Hermione and Luna. Ron had Muggle Studies, then Professor Kemra caught him and asked about Luna and Hermione. After that was Care for Magical Creatures, after which Hagrid asked them about the girls.

As they were walking inside, Ron was beginning to wonder if the professors were trying to find Hermione and Luna. No one mentioned they were fugitives, but everyone asked about them. Even Professor Kemra, who Ron would've thought wouldn't know anything about them.

They walked inside, then he got distracted by Sally-Anne wishing them farewell for the time on her way to Ancient Runes. Ginny caught up with them as they were walking in, which meant Ron had to wait to get Harry alone.

On Wednesday, after camping out at the Arithmancy classroom for an hour while Harry met with Professor Rix, Ron finally cornered Harry alone.

"You could've asked if you wanted to talk to me."

Ron shrugged.

"I guess, but after trying so hard, it felt like a challenge."

Harry checked his watch and started walking.

"I've got to be at Professor Lupin's office in ten minutes, so we can walk and talk."

"Have you noticed Princess acting strangely?" Ron asked, jumping straight to his point.

Harry glanced around, and Ron noticed Harry had taken out his ear pods.

I should've known Hermione wasn't going to come through on a replacement.

"I've noticed something," Harry said, keeping his voice low.

Ron waited, but soon realized that Harry wasn't talking.

"What is it?"

"It's… it's her hands."

Ron thought back to when he'd seen Sally-Anne lately, and remembered her constant fidgeting. She was always rubbing her hands together. She hadn't used to do that, had she?

"She keeps rubbing them together," Ron said. "What for?"

Harry looked for all the world like he didn't want to say it.

"She's also… have you seen her without her gloves lately?"

Ron once again thought back, and realized he hadn't. Sally-Anne's hands were soft and gentle, but he hadn't seen her without her gloves since… he couldn't think when the last time had been.

He shook his head.

"Exactly. That's because she doesn't want anyone to know that she's been burning them."

Ron stopped walking as he came to terms with that. What was he talking about? She couldn't be burning her hands, that was ridiculous. Why would she have done that?

"What for?"

Harry shook his head.

"I don't know. I spotted it over the summer, but she wears longer gloves now. I guess… last time one of my friends started wearing gloves, it was to hide something."

Ron nodded, remembering all too well the scars on Hermione's hands.

"Is everything alright with you?"

Ron shrugged, more interested in talking about Sally-Anne than himself.

"Fine, I guess. I mean… worried about Princess I suppose."

Harry gave him a significant look.

"What?"

"It's nothing," Harry said. "I'm worried about her too. You see her more than I do, so if someone's going to work out what's going on, it's you."

Ron thought about all the times he'd tried talking to Hermione about what was bothering her. Even with Sally-Anne, he couldn't manage to say the right thing. The difference was Sally-Anne didn't care.

"I can try," Ron said. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Ron walked off, leaving Harry to get to Professor Lupin's office. Why would Sally-Anne be burning herself? She kept rubbing her hands together too. Like she was…

Like she was trying to get something off them.

Ron hurried to the library and went straight to the Muggle Studies section. He walked along the shelves until he got to a group of books by William Shakespeare. He knew he recognized that from one of Shakespeare's works, which, knowing Sally-Anne, didn't entirely surprise him.

He touched each one, activating his bracelet when he did. He finally found it when he reached Macbeth.

She's trying to get the feeling of blood off her.

Ron turned to leave and find Sally-Anne, then stopped. Every time he tried to talk to one of his friends about something important, he managed to find a way to mess it up. If he wasn't delicate about it, he'd only make it worse.

Why did she feel like that at all? She hadn't killed Malfoy herself, Rose had. Just like she'd killed Neville and Lavender.

The image of Rose stabbing her sword thing into Neville was burned into his mind, but it felt like he was looking at a portrait. It was there, but it didn't really mean anything. Why didn't it mean anything?

The thought slipped away, and Ron left the library. Whatever was going on with Sally-Anne was more important than whatever was wrong with him. The only question left was how to help Sally-Anne.

Sarah sat in a train station, glaring at the board that taunted her with a three hour delay. She'd already been there for two hours, and if she was lucky, she'd get to leave within another two.

Eric walked through the crowd of people near her, carrying two cups of coffee. If she didn't know his lousy taste in coffee, she would've taken both of them when he sat down next to her.

"How're things in your neck of the woods, Boss?" he asked, far too cheerful as always.

"Same as they are in yours. Train delays. Conspiracies. The usual."

He took a sip of his coffee, signaling to her that it was safe to drink hers.

"At least it's early," he said. "We could've been here until eleven at night like last time."

Sarah grumbled and drank her coffee. It wasn't much, but it would tie her over.

"We could leave and come back," Eric said, nodding to the coffee that had come from a shop around the corner. "I don't know why you insist on staying here. It's not as if the train's going to get here any faster."

Sarah continued her staring contest with the board, scanning it again for the various destinations.

The thought of Inferi and a missing train car still stuck in her head. Disappearances, murders, acts of vandalism, it made no sense. It was as though someone was thumbing through an encyclopedia on crime, picking a random page, and saying "that's what I'm going to do today". If she didn't honestly believe that Rose was dead, she'd have thought Rose was behind it.

"How're the girls?" Sarah asked, taking another sip of coffee.

"The same as they were the last time you asked. Don't be such a worry wart."

They'd spent months fanning out around the area, trying to be as subtle as possible. Sarah didn't want to inadvertently lead Umbridge or Slytherin straight to them, but she wanted to find them and get answers nonetheless.

Their search had turned up nothing, so they'd stuck to investigating whatever it was this new group was up to. Sarah had also diverted resources into investigating Umbridge's activities, although her instincts told her they were all connected.

She knew what Umbridge wanted: power. This new group clearly wanted to make trouble. The missing piece was Slytherin. Sarah didn't know what it wanted. Which led her back to the girls and their whereabouts.

She'd seen many different ways everything could fit together, but she didn't have the answers she wanted, and it was starting to get to her. They'd dug up what information they could, but kept coming up with nothing. How was a group so interested in causing trouble and chaos somehow careful enough to avoid detection?

"What if they don't exist?" Sarah asked no one in particular.

"What was that?" Eric asked.

"Father Christmas and the Easter Bunny. Do you think they're real?"

Eric nearly choked on his coffee, then started laughing.

"Come on, Boss. Everyone knows the Easter Bunny is a family of rabbit Animagi, and Father Christmas is an alien."

Sarah smirked, then took another drink.

"Or Rose from the future."

"Now there's a terrifying thought." Eric finished his drink, then stared into space. "That actually makes far too much sense."

"The elves are actually her helpers, the… homunculi."

"She did like making things."

"And Sally-Anne said she liked to give them to people while they were sleeping."

They stared at one another before deciding that rabbit hole wasn't worth venturing down, and returned to wondering how much longer until their train arrived.

Like Ron, Sally-Anne discovered how difficult it was to find Harry to talk to him. It would've been easier if people would've stopped flagging her down to talk to her.

After dismissing the third boy to talk to her, she started tracking down Harry again. She knew his class schedule, she knew when he met with Remus and Rix, and between that, he was usually practicing Quidditch or studying.

Sally-Anne spared a thought for how far Harry had come as a responsible adult. He'd always been so angry about everything only a few years ago, but now he shouldered every responsibility he'd been given.

She turned a corner and bumped right into Harry.

"Must you do that?" she asked, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"Force of habit," Harry replied. His smirk reminded her of Sirius, from whom Harry had probably picked it up. "What do you need?"

"I—"

"You've been trying to catch me for days to talk to me, which you could've told me over the network. If you'd done that, I would've told you that I had about ten minutes on Wednesday after meeting Professor Rix and before meeting with Professor Lupin." He checked his watch. "Nine minutes. Since you didn't tell me that, I'm assuming you want to talk about something you don't want other people knowing about."

Sally-Anne scowled at him. As if Ron being a know-it-all wasn't bad enough. That was one thing about Hermione she didn't miss.

"Alright, Brain, there is something about which I'd like to talk to you."

Harry smiled at her knowingly, scowling as he did.

"Was that snark from the Great Sally-Anne Perks?"

"Harry, this is serious."

Harry opened his mouth, likely to make a joke about his godfather, but closed it and let the smile fade from his face.

"Alright, I'm listening."

Sally-Anne explained to him what Parkinson had told her. She struggled to keep herself composed as she talked, knowing her fear was creeping through to the surface.

"You didn't make a love potion for Draco," Harry said when she'd finished. "He honestly loved you. Even I noticed that there was something about him when he was with you. He wasn't as mean to everyone, didn't keep glaring at me or mocking everyone around him. You changed him for the better."

Tears started to trickle down her face, but it wasn't all joy.

"I didn't, but… what if Rose had?"

Through her tears, she saw Harry frowning at her.

"I don't think Rose could've made it."

"She could've gotten someone else to make it."

"What for? You convinced Draco to go against their plans. If she had, that meant she'd gotten in her own way."

Sally-Anne dabbed at her tears.

"It's exactly the sort of thing Rose would've done, just to mess with my head."

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I can't say for sure if that's what happened, but you're a kind person, Sally-Anne, and a lot more clever than you think. You've given up your own happiness more than once for the sake of others. You didn��t have to turn against Umbridge, nor risk your life to save mine last year when Firecracker nearly blew up me and Ron. You're worth loving, and Ron will see that, even without all the stuff Rose gave us."

"I'm not… I'm only worried about him."

Even if she hadn't know Harry as well as she did, she'd have known he didn't believe her.

"You're still wearing your dress," Harry said. "And your ribbon, and your ring. I would've expected you of all people to have been the first to get rid of them, which means something's stopping you."

"You can't know that everyone will still like me without my dress or ribbon. Before I had them—"

"Who cares? I'm not going to stop being your friend just because you're not as pretty as you were, or because you're not as good with people. Ron certainly won't stop being your friend. After everything you did with Umbridge, Ron was always your friend, even when I wasn't."

Sally-Anne stood still for a moment, taking in his words. He was right; Ron and Draco had been her only friends for a long time after everything that had happened with Umbridge. Maybe he would be her friend no matter what.

"I've only got a few minutes," Harry said, nodding down the corridor. "Would you mind walking with me?"

Sally-Anne nodded, glad Harry had dropped the subject of Ron for a moment. As they neared Professor Lupin's office, he brought it back up.

"I know you like Ron, and I know you don't need the dress or ribbon to hold his attention. You've got two choices: either do something about it, or pine away for him forever. If I recall correctly, the second one didn't go so well for you last time."

Sally-Anne resisted the urge to slap him. Harry should've been the last person to give her grief about that.

"Exactly," he said, sensing her frustration with him. "Give the first option a chance."

They reached Professor Lupin's office and Harry bid her farewell. Sally-Anne started off down the corridor, giving his words some thought.

I should ask him out, she told herself. But how is he with Lavender?

She thought back to sitting with Ron in St. Mungo's, listening to him unload his fears and insecurities. He was afraid no one would love him again, but he was wrong.

She realized she should've asked Harry where Ron was. She hadn't seem him since breakfast, so she figured he was outside somewhere. He didn't tend to hang out in the library anymore, not since Hermione had left.

As she walked towards the Entrance Hall, something crossed her mind, causing her to stop. Viktor had gone blind. Draco had died. Being around her wasn't bad luck, was it?

The pain of Viktor ordering her to leave returned, piling on to the misery she already felt about Draco. If she allowed herself to open up to Ron like that, would she lose him too? Even if it wasn't anything to do with her, they always seemed to find trouble. If they fell in love, she'd only lose him too.

It doesn't matter anyway. Without my dress, we'll only be good friends.

She walked out of Hogwarts, and started looking around for Ron. Even if they'd only be friends, she resolved to be the best friend she could be for him.

Harry sat with Remus going over the class syllabus, thinking of ideas for new lessons.

"Despite what happened to Hermione, I still think the Boggart lesson's good," Harry said. "It went fine last year."

"I suppose you're right," Remus said, "as always."

Harry chuckled.

"I'm not always right. Until last year, I thought the person that was always right was Hermione."

Remus flipped through some more papers.

"Still no word?"

Harry shook his head, then pointed at the paper.

"The Unforgivable Curses are a good thing to learn about. People ought to know what they're up against if they're facing a dark wizard. The Cruciatus Curse really messed up Hermione." Harry gave a crooked smile. "Of course, Neville said Lestrange tried using it on him, but he didn't crack."

"That doesn't surprise me," Remus said, circling the Unforgivable Curses. "I knew his parents. It must've taken her an hour to break them the way she did. Frank and Alice were some of the best Aurors around."

Harry nodded, then asked the question that had been on his mind for days.

"Was it hard losing my mum and dad?"

Remus stopped looking over papers and looked Harry straight in the eye.

"It's always hard losing a friend Harry, and never let anyone tell you otherwise. What was worse was that I thought one of my closest friends — one their closest friends — had sold them out. I was in an awful way when I got the news. I couldn't decide if I wanted revenge or if I wanted…"

He smiled a smile that felt a little condescending.

"Never mind how I felt back then. The point is that you shouldn't think it's something you truly get over. It's another thing you learn to live with."

Harry nodded, glad that he wasn't expected to get over it. Once upon a time, there had been eight people in their band, but now they were down to four. Rose had gone mad, killed Neville, and now it was beginning to look like Hermione and Luna might be following in her footsteps.

It was hard to know what to believe. His instincts said not to trust the Daily Prophet, but neither Hermione nor Luna had given an explanation for their absence, nor a clue to their whereabouts. What were they afraid would happen if they said anything? Why were they being so secretive?

The thought slipped away, and he and Remus went through more ideas for lesson plans.

"How's Ginny doing?"

"Fine. We were lucky Madame Pomfrey signed off on her playing. We wouldn't have done half as well if we hadn't had her."

"She's quite the Quidditch player."

Harry began to suspect he was being led to a conclusion, but he wanted to talk about Ginny, so he let himself be led to it.

"Yeah, she is. I couldn't tell you why Pomfrey let her play, but—"

��I can," Remus said, looking at him the same way he'd been looking at Ron and Sally-Anne for the past few days. "Professor McGonagall convinced her to sign off on it on the grounds that the staff be ready for it. She's got a soft spot for you and your friends."

Harry smiled, glad that Professor McGonagall was continuing the tradition of the headmaster or headmistress looking out for them.

Remus still gave Harry the same look. Harry knew what Remus wanted him to do, but he was having fun messing with him.

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

Harry smiled back at him.

"Did my parents?"

Remus laughed.

"Not once. They were falling for one another by sixth year, but wouldn't admit it to anyone. I had to pry it out of them both."

Harry thought about his talks with Ron and Sally-Anne, then chuckled.

"I know the feeling. But if it makes your life easier, I suppose I do like her a little. She's a brilliant player and a strong person, even if she doesn't believe it anymore."

He could imagine Alavel smiling at him. He'd have been proud that Harry was able to admit it.

"She'd be lucky to have you," Remus said. "Now that I've done my job, how about we get back to our real jobs?"

Harry chuckled at that.

"I suppose we should."

As they worked, he thought more about Ginny. He needed to ask Ron before he made a move on her. He didn't think Ron would care one way or the other, but it wasn't right to date your best friend's sister without at least warning him first.

Ron sat outside, letting his mind wander. It was cold, but he still had his ring on. The same ring made by the person that had murdered Lavender before his eyes.

It concerned him that his only hope to replace the ring was a wanted criminal. None of them knew what she was doing, nor would she answer when they asked. Could he trust Hermione? What if she'd gone mad too? Was it worth depending on her to remake the rings? Or would they be having the same problem with her in a year or two?

The Ministry was hiding something. People had been murdered or kidnapped, but the Daily Prophet was only reporting it at specific times, like they were trying to downplay the frequency of it. Then there was Umbridge being in power again which made no sense. Something was going on, but he'd found he couldn't think about it inside the castle.

He'd only noticed recently that thinking about it outside was distinctly easier, but once he got inside, the thoughts would slip away. Even the knowledge that it was easier to think about it outside vanished when he went inside. What was going on? It was too specific, like something about the castle was messing with his head. Was it because of the events of the previous year? Had so much happened inside the castle that it was clouding his mind?

For that reason, he'd decided to stay next to the Forbidden Forest for a moment. Not only was it a good spot to be alone, but it was the closest he could get to another location where something traumatic had happened.

He heard footsteps and looked up. He could've ignored it a few years ago, but now he was sure people were out to get him.

"It's alright," Sally-Anne said, "it's only me."

Ron sat up and tried to make himself presentable.

"Hey, Princess, I was just…"

She smiled at him, and his mind went blank.

"May I please join you?" she asked.

Unable to remember how his mouth worked, Ron was forced to nod as his reply.

"What are you doing out here?" Sally-Anne asked.

"It's easier to think," Ron said, finding it ironic that Sally-Anne's presence made that harder. "Inside I keep losing my train of thought."

Maybe it's Princess doing that.

No, he was sure something was going on. It was easier to think outside. At least, think about whatever was really going on.

"What do you mean?"

"How many people have asked about Hermione and Luna today?"

Sally-Anne frowned, but Ron still couldn't take his eyes off her. No matter what she did to her face, she always looked beautiful.

"Today, no one, I don't think. Professor Sprout asks about Luna sometimes. Professor McGonagall asks about them both, and… well, most of the professors ask about them."

"But they never ask about them being fugitives."

Ron gave Sally-Anne a moment to think about it.

"Exactly. Something doesn't feel right. Hermione and Luna are fugitives, but no one seems to mention it, even though the professors keep asking about them. Something about the way Rose died isn't right. Like there's more to it, but I can't remember what. Every time I try thinking about it inside, I keep forgetting what I was thinking about, but outside, I can think about it clearly. I came here because I thought it might be some sort of PTSD after last year, but despite having been on the run from Umbridge two years ago, I can still think clearly. Something about the castle is stopping me from thinking about it inside the castle."

He looked at Sally-Anne after he'd finished talking. She must've thought he was mad. Any second she'd get up and walk away.

Instead, she nodded, looking like she understood.

"Something feels wrong to me too. I can see it all in my head, but…"

Ron wondered if she had the same problem he did. He couldn't remember feeling anything when he'd seen Rose die, nor Neville. But if he said it, what if she thought there was something wrong with him? No, there couldn't be anything wrong with him, he could remember exactly how he'd felt when Lavender had died.

Ron looked at Sally-Anne and decided it didn't matter. What mattered was that she was by his side.

"It doesn't matter right now," he said.

She smiled at him again, and he knew right then and there that everything would work out alright.

He smiled back at her, resisting the urge to take her hand. Which brought something else to his mind.

"I've got a question," Ron said, "and I want you to answer honestly."

"Of course. You know you can ask me anything."

Ron formed the question in his head, then forced himself to say it.

"Are you burning your hands to get rid of the feeling of blood on them?"

The smile faded from Sally-Anne's face. She shifted around, moving her hands back and forth a few times.

"I—"

"I know you've burned them, although you probably didn't mean to. It struck me as familiar, but I didn't remember why until earlier. That's the same thing Lady Macbeth did to her hands, for that same reason. Knowing you, that's probably occurred to you too, if that wasn't the reason you started doing it."

Tears trickled down her face. She looked around, but no one was with them. They were on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where students rarely went. It was why Ron had picked the spot.

With her lip trembling, Sally-Anne nodded.

"I can't get rid of it. I… I just sat there and watched him die, and I felt nothing! Like everything stopped working! I couldn't save him!"

Whatever she said next was lost in her sobs. She covered her face with her hands, trying and failing to pull herself together.

Ron hated the feeling that this was his fault, but he put his arm around her anyway.

"I couldn't save Lav either. I… I know how it feels."

Sally-Anne turned and threw her arms around him. It startled Ron, but he held her anyway.

Ron tried to think of something to say, then realized it'd be better to say nothing.

Maybe he was just being paranoid about Hermione and Luna. Maybe they were only struggling to make sense of what couldn't be rationalized. Whatever was happening, he and Sally-Anne could get through it together.