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Harry Potter and the Girl in Red

An innocent, delicate flower is ripped from her home and dropped into a world where nothing makes sense. Armed with her intelligence and imaginary friend, and owning nothing but the magical clothes on her back (and anything that will fit in her picnic basket), Rose Peta-Lorrum must now survive the trials of the Rowling Plane. Warning: Starts out light and cracky, but gets darker the farther in you get. ~~~~~~ Written by Id (idX) ~~~~~~ Read on it’s original website: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6835726

Leylin_Farlier · Diễn sinh tác phẩm
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191 Chs

Not Quite Right

Sarah sat in her office, reading a police report for the fifth time, hoping she was wrong. If she were, it'd be the first time in months.

She'd been right about something being amiss about Draco's death. Sally-Anne and Lucius had different recollections of what had happened. Until Dan and Emma had told her about Slytherin, she hadn't had a theory about what had happened. After that, it made perfect sense why Sally-Anne would've had a different recollection: Slytherin had removed itself from her memory.

Now she was hoping that a recent murder wasn't the result of meddling from Magicals.

The moment Eric walked through her door, the look on his face told her she was right.

"Did they deny it?" Sarah asked.

Eric nodded.

"Profusely. Dodged the question, then wouldn't give me a straight answer when they did." Eric slumped in the chair in front of her. "Talking to the Minister himself would've been easier."

Sarah shook her head, her sense of humor dried up.

"I tried. He gave me worse. The Ministry knows something about this, something they don't want us to know."

"They always do," Eric said, much in the tone of a child that was tired of someone else taking something they wanted. "Why do we have to deal with them?"

"Because McGonagall won't talk to me face to face yet," Sarah replied. "You know it's a lot to take in. The only reasons she's talking to me at all is because I'm Sally-Anne's mum and Dumbledore told her to."

She folded her hands on her desk and stared into space. A missing train car, evidence of smuggling inferi into the countryside, several people missing, now one dead. It wasn't adding up.

"No one's taken credit for it," Eric said. "Not yet. Whoever it is, they're keeping a mostly low profile."

"McGonagall had the staff check the Express before they went to Hogwarts," Sarah said. "She believed me that far at least. No additional or false cars, so the stolen one wasn't being used to smuggle something past the wards."

She scribbled down some notes before returning her attention to Eric.

"Right. Keep pestering your contacts. Someone's going to give eventually. What about our surveillance on the inspection team?"

Eric handed her a folder. She caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. A look that told her she wasn't going to like what he'd found.

"Ins has been sacked," he said before she opened it. "Officially, she's taken early retirement."

Sarah opened the folder. She found entire transcripts of closed Ministry meetings with the officials that had gone over Hogwarts during the holiday.

"She's asking about Rose's body," Sarah said. "She's always been clever. There's something amiss. Assuming that Voldemort did kill her — and I'm not convinced he did — her body would've been in the Great Hall."

Eric nodded, then motioned for her to turn the page. When she did, she found pictures of the Great Hall. The students had been told to avoid it when they'd collected their things. The staff weren't idiots; any of the Death Eaters could've been faking being dead.

"Her body was gone before they got there," Sarah said. "And there's no dust." She looked up. "Ronald can tell you exactly what it should look like. The boy remembers how Brown looked after Rose hit her, but there's none of that here. There should be two piles."

"They'd all been read in on Rose," Eric said. "Safety precaution or something, but they all should've known that."

"I told them to rook for it," Sarah said, throwing the folder on her desk.

"It's as if someone got inside their heads and made them forget it," Eric said.

In her office, there were multiple hoops impostors had to jump through. Her assistant grilled everyone that walked into her office, including Sarah herself. Sarah, in turn, grilled her assistant. So if her assistant had let in Eric, he was safe. Otherwise, she would've been suspicious that Eric seemed to know what she was thinking.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

He held up his hands in surrender.

"I admit it! I'm guilty! You got me! I'm the one that keeps drinking all the coffee in the break room!"

She glared at him for a moment before returning to the file. Ins had been sacked after trying to force another investigation of Hogwarts, specifically to find Rose's body.

"They're far too eager to have people returning," Sarah said, "and there are more students at Hogwarts than there've been since the war. What's it up to?"

She hoped Eric had an answer, but going by his silence, he had nothing.

"Right. Keep monitoring the situation."

Her eyes landed on the other file he was holding, and she moved her gaze to his face.

"What else did you find?"

He pressed his lips together, once again looking like a little kid.

She held out her hand and waited for him to hand her the file.

He slowly moved it to her. The moment she took it, he leapt up and moved three paces back.

She shot him an expression with a mixture of confusion and exasperation, then opened the file. When she did, she found out why he was acting more annoying than usual.

"How the Hell has she not been sacked?" Sarah roared. "She tortured a student!"

The obnoxious smile of Dolores Umbridge looked back at her from the file. According to their research, she'd been climbing her way back through the ranks at the Ministry. The rule the Ministry had always followed was that if you used an Unforgivable Curse, you went to Azkaban. No exceptions. At least, not until now.

"Keep an eye on her," Sarah growled. "If she puts one foot out of line, tear her apart. If she interacts with any student at Hogwarts, bring her to me."

Eric, his eyes wide, nodded.

"Would you like some coffee, boss?" he asked, nodding to the coffee machine in her office.

"Yes," she said, getting up to get it herself. It was going to be a long few weeks.

That morning, Harry was reading the Daily Prophet over someone's shoulder. He himself refused to get a copy of it — they'd lied enough about him for his liking — but he wanted to stay informed.

"Someone's made an attempt on Gringotts," he said.

Sally-Anne and Ron both turned their attention to him.

"Please tell me it wasn't Brain and Moon," Sally-Anne said.

"Doesn't say," Harry said. "'The Gringotts Bank office at 738 Diagon Alley and its associated vault had an attempt made on it by persons unknown. The Goblins were able to prevent the break in, but unable to apprehend the individuals.' I can't quite see the rest of it. Probably going on about how the Ministry should've been present to have heroically apprehended the culprits."

"A lot of odd things have been happening lately," Sally-Anne said, rubbing her wrist for a moment.

"The Ministry must be keeping it quiet," Ron said. "Something's going on, but the Ministry won't let the Daily Prophet report it. They only bother pointing out where Gringotts is if they've got to reach their word quota or something. At least, that's what Charlie said last time they did that."

"People were inspecting the cars for a moment at the train station," Harry said. "Like they were expecting someone to be on board."

Ron frowned at him, and Harry could see the wheels turning in his head. An idea was forming, and Harry was sure it'd pull them away from their new boring lives.

"Last year, how did we find out Rose was still alive?"

"Dumbledore told us to watch out for her," Harry said. "Then he later told us directly, after she'd… shown up."

"What if they didn't tell us?" Ron said. "What if they're not telling us now?"

"We saw her die," Sally-Anne said. "Voldemort killed her. She's dead."

Harry could picture it clearly in his mind. Voldemort ordering Rose around; Rose laughing at him. He could see it, hear it, but something felt odd. Like he couldn't remember feeling anything. Fear, joy, nothing.

"Everything's fine," he said. "We've grown so used to people being out to get us, we're looking for it. No one's out to get us anymore. Safe and boring now, remember?"

Sally-Anne smiled and nodded.

"Safe and boring."

They looked at Ron, who wasn't saying anything, then at Ginny, who'd been listening to their conversation.

She still said nothing, but smiled at them.

"Safe and boring," Ron said, although he didn't sounded convinced.

Harry's first class of the new year was Arithmancy. It seemed odd that it wasn't Professor Vector teaching it. He'd struggled through it, but thanks in part to Hermione, he'd made it through. He needed the N.E.W.T. if he wanted to go into teaching, but he didn't know how he'd make it through without her help.

He struggled with the lesson, wondering why it came so naturally to Hermione. Defence had always come naturally to him, but not Arithmancy. It was hard to keep track of everything once the numbers had turned into letters.

After class, Rix asked him to stay a moment. Harry knew this was it. He'd scraped by, but it wasn't enough for this man, not without Hermione vouching for him or helping him.

"Mr. Potter, I have two things I'd like to ask you about," Rix said. "Am I keeping you from anything?"

"I've got Charms now," Harry replied.

After a minute of comparing schedules, he agreed to meet Rix in his office at three o'clock. That gave him a few hours to hold onto his dream before figuring out what to do next.

Sally-Anne walked into Potions that afternoon, wondering what sort of teacher Slughorn was going to be. She hoped they wouldn't be working in pairs. Without Neville, Hermione, or Draco there, she wasn't sure she wanted to work with anyone.

As with the previous year, most of the class was Slytherin. Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson were all there. Sally-Anne caught Parkinson glaring at her when she walked in and took a seat away from them.

"I'm surprised you had the nerve to show up, Perks," Parkinson said.

Sally-Anne herself was surprised that McGonagall was the only teacher who ever seemed to be waiting for her students when they arrived.

She sat down away from the group of Slytherins and hoped they'd get bored of harassing her if she ignored them.

Max and Hannah, the lone Hufflepuffs in their class, walked in and sat with Sally-Anne.

"Hey, Sally-Anne," Max said. "Made it through your first day back?"

Sally-Anne glanced behind her.

"Not yet, but almost." She smiled at them. "How are you two doing?"

"A little shaken up after last year," Hannah said. "I'm sorry again about Neville."

"I know," Sally-Anne said. "How's Professor Sprout doing?"

"She's alright," Max said. "She's been checking on us, making sure we're keeping it together. You know, usual Professor Sprout stuff."

Sally-Anne smiled. Professor Sprout liked every student, but there'd been a special place in her heart for Neville. While his gran had wanted him to have nothing to do with Luna, Sally-Anne had overheard Professor Sprout suggesting ideas for dates.

"She might ask you herself," Max said, "but you haven't heard from Luna have you?"

Professor Slughorn entered the room before Sally-Anne could answer. She was thankful for the distraction; she'd started rubbing her hands together, so something to snap her out of it and return her focus to the present was always appreciated.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Slughorn said. "What a marvelous group we've got here. I'm sure you're all eager to get started, so I'll get right to this year's plan."

He tapped his wand on the blackboard and words appeared. Sally-Anne took out her notebook and copied them down while Slughorn spoke.

"Simply, I'm to prepare you all for your N.E.W.T. exams in June. Now, I don't know what horror stories your classmates have told you, but I assure you, there's nothing to worry about, not one thing."

Sally-Anne watched as Slughorn's entire body shook when he laughed. It was strange to see a potions master so laid back after Snape.

As they worked, Sally-Anne could feel Parkinson's eyes on her. She'd been at the funeral too. Sally-Anne began to wonder what Parkinson knew. Apart from Sally-Anne's friends and some of the teachers, no one had known about her and Draco. Parkinson couldn't know. Could she?

Harry met with Rix at three, and found that he hadn't completely unpacked yet. There were still a few suitcases of books lying around, but Rix seemed to be in the middle of distributing them throughout the room.

"My first question is about your friend Ms. Granger," Rix said when Harry walked in. "You see, Professor Vector was a dear friend of mine, so as you can imagine, I've heard all about the great Hermione Granger."

"I can imagine," Harry said, recalling how much he'd heard about the great Septima Vector from Hermione.

"In Septima's memory, I wanted to check in on Ms. Granger. It's what Septima would've wanted."

Harry nodded, but then shook his head.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you professor, but none of us know where she is."

Rix smiled kindly, reminding Harry a little of Professor Dumbledore.

"Quite alright, quite alright."

"What was your other question?" Harry asked, keeping an eye on all the movement around him.

"Well, I noticed that you've been struggling to keep up."

Here it comes.

"Lupin tells me you have ambitions of teaching. I want you to know that I make my students' dreams my own. If you need extra help, please come see me. So long as I'm not in class, I'm at your service."

Harry kept a careful eye on himself so he didn't so any signs of how relieved he felt. Arithmancy was the only obstacle between himself and fulfilling the promises he'd made to Alavel. He'd become a teacher and live a normal life. Nothing was going to stop him.

After classes ended for the day, Sally-Anne, Harry, and Ron were instructed to go to classroom 7B to meet with Slughorn. Why they'd been summoned, none of them knew.

"I can't understand why he wants to see us," Ron said. "At least you're in his class."

Sally-Anne couldn't offer an answer, but they nevertheless walked together to the room. Inside, they found a few dozen students, mostly fifth-, sixth-, or seventh-years. They took seats in the back of the classroom.

Slughorn was milling about, chatting with everyone. The moment they took seats, Slughorn excused himself to greet them.

"Good to see you all," he said. "So glad you could make it."

Sally-Anne stood up to meet him, and Ron and Harry followed her lead.

"We were pleased to receive your invitation," Sally-Anne said, "although, you haven't said what this is all for."

Slughorn smiled at them and ushered them further into the room.

"I thought I'd get a few of Hogwarts's most prominent students together. Give everyone a chance to get to know one another."

Sally-Anne can probably tell you everyone's life stories.

Ron himself looked around, but didn't know too many of them. He recognized a few people from their defence club a few years ago, some Quidditch players, but he didn't know too many of them.

Hold on, had Slughorn said most prominent students? Since when did that include him? He was Head Boy, but it didn't mean as much to him now as it had years ago. If he and his friends made it to graduation alive, that'd be enough for him.

Sally-Anne smiled politely as Slughorn introduced her to a few people. As Ron had thought, she knew all of them. Even after the way Umbridge had used her, she'd returned to being everyone's friend.

Ron glanced back and saw that Harry had ended up in a conversation with a few students Ron mostly didn't know. He recognized Max and Hannah, but couldn't remember Hannah's friend's name for the life of him.

Turning back to Sally-Anne, he saw she was starting to rub her hands together. He was sure that was new. Had she always worn her gloves all the time?

He walked up to her, tuning into the conversation she was having with a few of the other students.

"I'm only saying," one of them, a Slytherin, was saying, "perhaps Dumbledore didn't do as good a job defending the school as he thought he had. How many people died last year?"

"Six," Ron said with more hostility than he'd intended.

"Precisely. Obviously, he didn't do a good job of keeping people safe."

Ron balled his fists, but relaxed somewhat when he saw Sally-Anne. For once, her social skills had abandoned her, and she was slouching. Sally-Anne never slouched.

"Sally-Anne, didn't you say there was something you had to do before dinner?"

She looked at him, too out of it to catch his meaning. She frowned for a second, then nodded.

"I think there was." She smiled at their companions, her usual self returning. "My apologies, we must be going."

Ron caught Harry's eye as they made their way to the door.

<We're going out for some fresh air.>

Harry nodded to them, then returned to his conversation with the Hufflepuffs.

They thanked Slughorn for the invitation before they made their way out.

"Such a shame, but I quite understand. Two of the top students in your year, you must be awfully busy. Please, do come to the next Slug Club meeting, I'd be delighted to see you both again."

Ron and Sally-Anne slipped out before anyone else could intercept them. They'd only been there for maybe 15 minutes, but that was plenty for Ron.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Sally-Anne smiled at him, but something about it seemed off.

"I'm getting tired of people always talking about last year," Ron said. "Haven't they got something better to do?"

"It must seem so exciting to them," Sally-Anne said, rubbing her wrist. That tic Ron recognized. She'd been doing that since her hand was cut off.

"Let's get to the Great Hall," he said. "Or we can sneak into the kitchens. If Dripty's there, we might be able to convince him to give us some food early."

Unlike the rest of her friends, Ginny woke up about the same time the rest of the school did. She looked at the pair of rings on her nightstand and reached for one of them. It would be nice not needing the extra sleep again.

When her finger touched the ring, she heard Rose's laughter and recoiled. She brushed her hair back over her face and got out of bed. She'd be alright. She was hungry and a little tired, but alright.

Ginny walked into the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, trying to keep her hair over her face as much as she could. Even then, she heard people whispering about her. They stared and pointed as if she couldn't see them. People had been doing that for months, but she still wasn't used to it.

The instinct to brush her hair out of her face had all but left her. It was better this way; at least it made it harder for people to see her disfigurement. She felt like a monster, like there'd been a monster inside of her, and now everyone could see it. She hated it, but there was no going back now. The best she could do was hide it.

She sat down, grabbed a plate, and got some food. It was all she could do to feel normal again.

Harry sat down across from her and grabbed some food of his own.

"First practice is today," he said.

"I'll be fine," she replied.

Harry smiled at her.

"It never crossed my mind that you wouldn't be."

Ginny smiled. It was nice that someone still believed in her after everything she'd done. If Harry hadn't still been captain, she wasn't sure what she would've done. No one else would've let her stay on the team.

After breakfast, both the main and reserve teams made their way to the Pitch. Everyone was still there; the only person who'd graduated was Katie, but Demelza Robins had taken her place.

"Everyone in the air," Harry said. "We'll start with a scrimmage to get everyone warmed up."

He broke them into two teams. Ginny was on a team with the reserve Keeper, Demelza, one of the reserve Chasers, Brett, and a reserve Beater. Harry and their reserve Seeker were working separately from the rest of the team.

They took to the air, and Jonathon grabbed the Quaffle. Demelza stayed with him as he tried getting to their goal. Brett lobbed a Bludgeor at him, determined to cut off his brother.

Jonathon swerved to avoid it, but it knocked the Quaffle out of his hands. Ginny shot towards it and grabbed it, racing towards the goal post where her brother lay in wait.

Demelza came up beside her, and Ginny passed it to her when people came up in front of her.

Ginny moved around the other Chasers, the wind whipping at her hair. Demelza passed her the Quaffle again, giving them a clear line at the goal posts.

Ron tensed up, keeping his eyes fixed on the Quaffle. Ginny looked for an opening, then drifted to her right. She feinted, pretending to pass to Demelza. To her surprise, Ron shifted, expecting her to pass.

Ginny threw the Quaffle to her left, but Ron kept up with it. He grabbed the Quaffle before it could go in and passed it to Jonathon, who raced away with it.

They went back and forth like that, with Ginny and Demelza picking up the slack for their Keeper, and Ron doing the same for his out of practice Chasers. As they warmed up, they began to improve. It was odd; no one held ill will towards Ginny. Her brother didn't mock her when he blocked their shots. Demelza and Jonathon didn't have a problem with her. Demelza was cheerful even.

They switched to drilling different maneuvers after an hour. Harry kept them working, although not quite as hard as Wood or Johnson had. Ginny had only been a reserve, and she remembered well how sore she'd always been.

During one drill, she finally got the Quaffle past her brother. When she did, Demelza cheered for her.

"Not bad," Ron called at her. "Bet you can't do it again!"

Even then, he grinned at her. Why were they proud of her? She was deformed, scarred. She brushed her hair back over her face. No one could see how ugly she was. She was a monster, inside and out.

Her vision started to cloud over, and she heard screaming.

"Die!"

Taltria's voice echoed in her head, followed by an explosion, then Rose laughing.

"Next time, don't go in without one of the big kids."

Ginny clutched her head, shaking it, trying to clear it. It wasn't real. Rose was dead. She'd seen her die.

Why didn't it feel right? Why did the memory feel fake? She should've been relieved to see it, but she couldn't remember feeling anything. Rose and Voldemort had died before her eyes, but she'd felt nothing. Had Rose broken her? Could she feel anything anymore?

From above his team, Harry watched Ginny do the impossible and sneak the Quaffle past Ron. It must've been the first time outside of endurance drills he'd let one slip against the team. Harry smiled with pride. Keeping Ginny had been the right choice.

Then he saw her shake her head, and knew instantly that something was wrong. Glancing at Ron's number one fan in the stands, he saw her notice it too.

<Is she alright?> Sally-Anne asked.

Before Harry could answer her question, Ginny answered it for them.

She doubled over on her broom and started screaming. Without a grip on her broom, she slid off.

Harry had made dives at the Snitch that pushed the Firebolt to its limits. He was sure he'd broken the sound barrier on a few occasions, but in all that time, he wasn't sure he'd flown as fast as he had to catch Ginny.

He dove at her, pushing the Firebolt for everything it had. The ground got bigger, and his instincts said he was going too fast. He didn't care. His friend was falling, and he knew something the others didn't.

Harry snatched Ginny out of the air then pulled up to avoid killing them both. He looked up at Ron, who'd drawn his wand, but hadn't had time to cast a spell.

"Is she alright?" Sally-Anne called, having made her way onto the Pitch. "Is she hurt? What happened?"

Harry called up to the team.

"Ron, come with me! Jonathon, you're in charge! Keep drilling that maneuver! If it can get past Ron, it can get past anyone!"

Harry started out of the Pitch, Ginny in his arms. He was aware he didn't have the strength to keep carrying her, but his adrenaline was doing the work for him.

He, Ron, and Sally-Anne walked to the Hospital Wing, where Madame Pomfrey didn't need specifics to start looking her over.

"It hasn't even been a week!" Looking around, she added, "never mind that, get her on a bed."

Harry laid her down, then nearly fell over himself. With the surge of adrenaline gone, he realized how sore he was from carrying her.

"Without giving me orders, tell me what happened."

They explained what they saw, but Harry only knew so much. They didn't know what had caused it, which was Madame Pomfrey's next question.

"Then I want her watched," Pomfrey said. "Every hour, as much as possible, and I don't want her back on that broom until I know what happened."

Harry wanted to argue, but he'd been at Hogwarts long enough to know better. No one changed Madame Pomfrey's mind.

"Understood," he said before Ron argued and made it worse. "May we please stay here with her until she wakes up?"

"You don't have to," Sally-Anne said. "I can do that. You two get back to Quidditch. Even the best team needs practice."

Madame Pomfrey had walked away, so Harry assumed she didn't mind if they stayed. It wasn't as if she didn't know them by now.

He looked at Ginny, whose hair wasn't covering her face for once. He wished she'd leave it like that; she looked better with it out of her face.

"You're right," Harry said. "We've still got practice. We'll be here as soon as it's done."

"Let us know when she wakes up," Ron said.

Sally-Anne smiled at him, but didn't actually agree with him. Harry suspected she intended to "forget" to tell them so they wouldn't be distracted. As if the thought of Ginny getting worse wasn't distracting enough.

He took another look at Ginny. She was resting, something she could use. He nodded to Sally-Anne before he and Ron left the Hospital Wing.

Ginny stayed the night in the Hospital Wing. When she woke up, she told Sally-Anne what had happened, who then told Harry and Ron that night in the common room.

Ron sat in silence for a moment, one of the most common thoughts in his head lately was once again in the forefront: after what she'd done, why were they still using Rose's equipment.

"We shouldn't keep using the stuff Rose gave us," Harry said. "After what she did… everyone died because of her. She's killed eight of our friends, and tried to kill Hermione. Never mind what Hermione and Luna say, Rose is evil. We can't keep the rings on, or the earpods in."

"What about our packs?" Ron asked.

"Those are easy to replace," Harry said. "There's a shop in Hogsmeade that can get us replacements. Top of the line too, so long as we can pay, and I can."

Ron looked at Sally-Anne, who wasn't saying anything.

"I'm not sure," she said at last. "How many times since then have we survived because of what Rose gave us? Even against her?"

"After everything she's done, we can't keep using it all. I mean, I'm fine in Quidditch without them."

"What else can we do?" Sally-Anne asked. "I can't remember the last time I got eight hours of sleep. I can't even imagine needing to eat anymore."

"Are we going to stop using the nicknames she gave us too?" Ron asked.

That caught Harry off guard. It took Ron a moment to realize why: Rose hadn't given Harry the nickname "Skyeyes", Alavel had.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Maybe."

"What would've happened last year if we'd needed sleep?" Ron asked. "Or the year before that? We planned against Umbridge while we would've been sleeping otherwise. We made it through her first night in power because we don't need to sleep as much as everyone else."

Ron looked between his friends, wondering if any of them knew the argument in his head. It was easy, the difference between last year and this year: no one was after them. There was no need for combat readiness, they didn't need to fight anymore. The war was over. At least, he hoped it was.

"Ron's got a good point," Sally-Anne said. She looked down at her ring. "I… I'm not sure what I'd do without my dress or my ribbon."

"We'd be normal," Harry said. "There's nothing wrong with being normal."

"What about the earpods?" Ron asked. "How many times a day do we use them without thinking of it?"

This time, even Ron didn't know how to argue with that. Other people got by without them, but they didn't have to. He didn't want to be like everyone else again.

"What about Hermione?" Sally-Anne asked.

"What about her?" Ron asked. "She doesn't believe Rose did anything wrong."

"Could she make them? It sounds mad, but she's worked out a lot of Rose's magic."

Ron paused and considered it. Hermione knew Rose's magic, or enough of it. Could she enchant objects like Rose could?

"It can't hurt to ask her," Sally-Anne said, pushing on. "Even if she doesn't believe us about Rose, she might help out of curiosity."

Ron thought back to the times he'd found Hermione poring over notes about a problem. How excited she'd been back then. If she still had that enthusiasm, there was little question that she'd help them, even if she didn't agree with them about why.

"I think that sounds like a good idea," Harry said. "Ron?"

Ron nodded.

"Who should ask her?" he asked.

"Knowing her," Sally-Anne said, "she'll start going on about how exciting it'd be, so you're the only one that will be able to keep up with her."

Ron thought of all the other times Hermione had talked at him and sighed.

"Sounds fun."

"Until then," Harry said, slipping the ring off his finger, "I'm not using this. I'm already wearing my other glasses, and I'm fine. I'll get us all new packs tomorrow in Hogsmeade."

Ron looked at Sally-Anne, and hoped he spoke for both of them. If she followed Harry's example, he didn't know if he'd be able to stand his ground.

"I think it'd be easier for Ron and I to do our rounds if we don't need the sleep," Sally-Anne said. "Just for now."

"Alright," Harry said, standing up. "Well, now that I'm mortal again, I think I'll get some sleep. I'll see you two in the morning."

Ron watched him go, then looked down at his own ring. He hoped Hermione would come up with something, because he didn't want to be mortal again.