Chapter 14: Faith

Dawn was slowly breaking in the east, above the saw-tooth pattern of mountain peaks in the distance, just beyond the lake. It would be only a matter of minutes now, before the sun would bleed into the blank sky, and Hermione knew that she would then have an hour or two at most before the girls would wake to find that she had sneaked away to Hogwarts this morning while they were still sleeping.

Elinor was always the first one up in the household, and she would no doubt be the first to discover that her mother�s bed was already made. And Hermione knew that as soon as Elinor saw that her bedroom was empty, she would immediately run to her sisters to tell them that something was very wrong--that Mummy was missing. Hermione couldn�t do that to them. She couldn�t cause them that much distress, especially after all they�d had to go through in the last few days. They were already mourning their father; Hermione wasn�t about to let them believe they�d lost their mother as well.

But of course, Ron wasn�t dead.

She was sure of it now, even surer than she had been yesterday, when the intuition had been only a faint inkling, a mere echo of wishful thinking, of longing. She had woken in the middle of the night last night--several times, now that she thought about it--with hazy thoughts swirling in her head. Not even fully-formed thoughts, exactly, and not even words, just... feelings. Very strong feelings. And out-of-place, disjointed images, from dreams she couldn�t even remember having, but ones she distinctly remembered waking from at one point. Images of Ron as she knew him now, only he was in the past, and it had all felt so real, so tangible.

It had all been so surreal, and although she couldn�t begin to rationalize or explain it she knew this much: he was alive. He just had to be. She knew it with every fiber of her being, would have been willing to bet her own life on it a thousand times, or however many times it took to prove it. And she was going to do just that. That was why she had come here.

A sharp early morning breeze cut across her exposed cheek, jolting her out of her thoughts. It wasn�t cold--far from it, as it was late July--but the bite of cool air had been enough to take her by surprise, and she let loose an involuntary shiver that carried with it some of the apprehension she�d tried her best to suppress until now, but had nevertheless managed to rise up to the surface despite her best intentions.

There would be no room for failure today. She simply had to make sure of that.

Gripping her invisibility cloak tightly around her to make sure she was fully hidden, she hurried across the courtyard, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls, like those of mischievous ghosts, and she made a sharp turn past the gates at the main entrance. She knew exactly where she needed to go. Time continued to decay at an alarming rate as she sped past the ancient statues along her path, and at last, she reached her destination. At the foot of the South tower stood a tall door made of solid brass, with a keyhole deceptively in place (there were no keys that could unlock this door; it had been charmed to reject any key that tried to open it, and had been known to release an obnoxious wailing sound if any would-be intruder tried).

The words came to her at once, as if they�d never left her, and as she brushed her fingers against the smooth surface of the door with one hand and aimed her wand at it with the other, she whispered, �In nomini fiducia...�

The door dissolved before her, like water vaporizing into mist, and she stepped inside, waiting for it to seal itself again, before she made her way up the winding staircase that seemed to reach into the heavens themselves, and narrowed as she came further towards the top. It seemed she had sprinted all the way up here, but now that she had reached the head of the staircase, breathless and a little dizzy, she couldn�t help but hesitate before the simple, unassuming door.

This really was her only chance. She had no other choice but to do this, even at the risk defying everyone she loved. She knew they all meant well--her parents, and Ron�s father, her children, and even Harry. They only wanted her to accept the reality of Ron being gone, and God, she did love them for caring so much. But she was not going to accept something she knew more than ever was simply not true.

She had to succeed at this. Because if she couldn�t pull this off, then...

No.

She shook her head, as if to physically expel the traitorous thoughts from her head. This isn�t the time to start losing your nerve, Hermione, she thought. Ron needs you. And you are not going to let him down...

She reached for the handle, but just as she curled her fingers around it, she jumped back in surprise when the door swung open unexpectedly.

�Mrs. Weasley...?�

Recovering her breath, Hermione stepped forward and nodded.

�Hermione... what are you doing here?�

�I need your help, Professor McGonagall,� she said. �Please... there�s nobody else I can turn to...�

Beef stew.

Ron knew that hearty fragrance anywhere; beef stew had been his favorite meal here at Hogwarts (and there had certainly been plenty to choose from over the course of seven years). The smell of it was the first thing that greeted him as he entered the Great Hall, and he paused by the doors to take in a whiff of it, before he strode across towards the teacher�s table.

He had almost made the wrong turn just now, towards the Gryffindor table, where Harry was sitting alone, with a book (no doubt the very battered copy of Flying With The Cannons book Ron had given him back in second year, which he remembered Harry had carried with him at all times during fifth year; it had been a constant and much-needed distraction for him during all the turmoil of that year) propped open against a jug of pumpkin juice. Ron had almost reached the table, when he saw his younger self and Hermione making their way towards Harry, and he backed away immediately, grateful that he hadn�t just made a complete arse of himself.

His stomach churned inside at the sight of Snape�s empty seat, and guilt knifed at him once again as he sat down beside it. None of the students knew of Snape�s whereabouts yet, of course; Dumbledore had made sure that word of his death be kept strictly confidential at the Ministry. He knew what the students were saying, though. He knew it all too well. There had been nasty rumors about Snape�s disappearance going about, even before the summer holidays had ended, and Ron himself had been guilty of giving life to what would ultimately become legend during their fifth year. He cringed now at the thought of it.

He�d heard the whispers in the corridors, every time they marched down into the dungeons for Potions, where Professor McGonagall was doing double duty by teaching those lessons as well. They were actually pleased that Snape was gone. Happy, even. Viciously speaking ill of him, giddy to be able to speak their minds about him at last, after all those years of suffering under his wrath. Ron had been one of the students most thrilled that Snape had not come back to Hogwarts during their fifth year, vowing to one day reel him in and bring him to justice.

And now the very thought of it made him sick to his stomach. He had been so wrong. So damn wrong. And he would always have to live with the knowledge that he had failed a second time to make amends for being so wrong.

The stew tasted bland. Ron wasn�t sure if it was an off-day for the elves in the kitchen, or whether his brain was just not processing the correct synapses coming from his taste buds. Whichever it was, Ron didn�t quite care at the moment. He pushed the bowl away from him, and nearly jumped up in surprise when he looked up and saw three eager faces staring at him.

�Er... Professor?�

Ron reckoned he would probably never get used to being called Professor by his own self. He blinked back at young Ron, vaguely aware of the dreamy, embarrassed sort of grin on Hermione�s face as she stood beside him, awaiting Ron�s answer.

�Yes?�

�We were wondering,� his younger self said, �if we could talk to you about something?�

His younger self nudged Harry with his elbow. The move was probably intended to be subtle, but Ron�s eye picked it up anyway, and he pretended not to see.

�Go on,� young Ron hissed, as if to encourage Harry.

Harry gave him a look of annoyance before turning to Ron. �Right... er... we were wondering, if... you knew anything about the Fidelius charm?� He must have noticed Ron�s surprise, because he quickly added, �We�d ask Professor Flitwick, but... well, we thought it might be better to ask you.�

�You�re so cool and all,� young Ron added brightly. Hermione shook head at him, but couldn�t suppress an amused grin completely. �We reckoned you wouldn�t mind helping us out.�

�Well, I�ll certainly do what I can,� Ron said. �May I ask why you�re asking about this, though?�

Young Ron shot a slightly panicked look at Harry, but it was Hermione who ended up coming to their rescue.

�We�re doing research,� she said matter-of-factly, the unmistakable pink tinge in her cheeks just now starting to die down.

Ron arched an eyebrow. �Research?�

�Yes, about-�

�We�re trying to help Harry, Professor,� young Ron blurted out.

Hermione swatted him on the arm. �Ron!!�

�It�s all right, Hermione, we can trust him!�

At this, the blush returned to her cheeks--even more noticeably now than it had been before--and she stammered, �I-I know that... But we�d agreed not to say anything.�

�They want to do the Fidelius charm, Professor,� Harry said at last. �They think Volde--you-know-who is going to come after me, now that...� He paused, and Ron saw him swallow hard, avoiding their eyes. �They think if I�ve got a Secret-Keeper, I�ll be safe. But I told them that Professor Dumbledore won�t let anything happen.�

�I see,� Ron said. �You two are awfully brave, then. To want to do this for your best friend.�

�We�d do anything for him,� young Ron said quietly.

Damn right, Ron thought.

�Will you help us, then, Professor?� Hermione said.

�It�s a very complicated charm, Hermione,� he said. �Even the most advanced wizards would find it difficult-�

�We�ll work on it!� young Ron said. �We�ll keep working on it until we get it right! Please, Professor... this is important...�

Ron nodded. �All right, then,� he said. �I�ll help guide you through it, as long as you understand that it�s very difficult. I can�t guarantee you�ll be able to perform it well enough for it to take.�

�Oh don�t worry, at the very least, Hermione�ll get it,� young Ron said, the tips of his ears strangely--and noticeably--crimson now.

Blimey, Ron thought, is that actually what I look like when I�m talking about her? And suddenly, he felt his ears grow hot.

�Hermione�s the smartest witch in the school, Professor.�

Ron almost said, �I know,� but thankfully stopped himself before the words escaped his mouth. Hermione�s entire face now perfectly matched young Ron�s ears in color at this point, and Ron turned away from them, and towards Harry, so that neither would be too self-conscious. What he saw next caused his heart to give a jolt, however. Harry had been rubbing at his scar, and when he saw that Ron had seen him, he quickly took down his hand. The gesture did not escape Ron�s attention, however, nor that of Hermione or young Ron.

�Harry,� his younger self whispered, �you all right?�

�Fine.�

But he wasn�t fine. He was gripping Flying With The Cannons so tightly that his knuckles were white, and Ron could tell he was practically gritting his teeth from the burning in his forehead.

�I�ve got to go,� he said abruptly. �I�ll be late for Quidditch practice... Angelina�ll have my head if I�m not out there in twenty minutes...�

�But Harry-�

�I�ll see you two at dinner...�

�Harry...�

This time, Harry stopped, and turned back to look at Ron. His stare was so intense that Ron forgot for a moment what he had wanted to say, and then when he remembered a few seconds later, he changed his mind about saying it.

�Be sure to use that Impervius charm on your glasses today,� he finally settled on saying. �I hear we�re getting rain this afternoon.�

Harry nodded, and for the first time today, Ron saw a hint of a smile on his face. A grateful smile. Ron sighed in relief and watched him sprint out of the Great Hall.

�What you�re asking me to do is go against the Ministry�s wishes,� Professor McGonagall said quietly.

There was no admonition in her voice, nor was there judgment. But Hermione knew that was doubt in her eyes, and she knew she would have to find some way to get through to her.

�I know, Professor,� she said. �I know it�s a lot to ask of you, and believe me, I wouldn�t be asking if I thought I had any other alternative but this... But I don�t. The Ministry isn�t going to help Ron, Professor. They�ve made it clear that they will not send anyone back in time to help him if he is alive...�

�I�m sure they have their reasons.�

�Yes,� Hermione said, and she crossed McGonagall�s office to look out the window. �They don�t want to risk upsetting the continuum further. And I know they mean well, and I know they feel their reasons are justified, but I can�t sit here and just accept that my husband was left out to twist in the wind while everything continues to unravel here... He�s in trouble, Professor, I know it. If he was at the Riddle house, then Voldemort might have found out about him. And if he has, then Ron�s in as much danger as Harry is...�

McGonagall gave a heavy sigh and sat at her desk. �I know how difficult this must be, Hermione...�

Hermione couldn�t help but cringe at the words. She�d had to hear them far too many times in the last few days. And she had been hoping she wouldn�t have to hear them again today--not from McGonagall too.

�I don�t pretend to know what kind of pain you�re going through, but you must think about this long and hard. Do you really want to do this, Hermione? Do you really want to risk this much on an intuition?�

The answer was clear. It was yes.

She turned her head from the window, back to McGonagall, who was awaiting her answer. �I have to do this, Professor,� she said. �Ron would do the same for me if our places were reversed. He would never give up on me. How can I give up on him?�

For a while, Hermione actually thought she was going to refuse her. McGonagall�s face was unreadable as usual, and she was quiet for so long that Hermione felt her hope leaking away. But then a hint of emotion flickered in the headmistress�s eyes--one of empathy, perhaps? Comprehension?

Without a word, she reached beside her to pull out a drawer at her desk, and rummaged through its contents, before she placed her hand back onto the desktop. Something small and shimmery glittered in her hand: the sands inside of a time-turner.

Hermione�s eyes widened, then flew to McGonagall�s. The headmistress nodded, and rose from her chair to walk over to where Hermione stood, then took her hand and placed the time-turner in it.

�Do not linger too long,� she said. �Every minute you stay in the past makes the risk that much greater.�

Hermione nodded. �I understand, Professor. Thank you...�

Just before she stepped out of the door, she heard McGonagall call out to her one last time.

�Hermione,� she said, �Good luck. I hope you�re right about him.�

�I know I am,� Hermione said. She placed the time-turner around her neck and closed the door behind her.

�Maddy...�

Hermione placed a hand on her daughter�s shoulder and gently shook her awake.

�Maddy, we need to talk...�

�Mum?� Madeline nudged her eyes open, then squinted at her in the darkness. �What time is it?�

�Just after midnight, love. I�m sorry to wake you, but this is important.�

�What is it?�

Hermione waited for her to sit up before she began to explain. Madeline seemed to be shaking off the lingering effects of drowsiness, but in a matter of minutes she seemed lucid enough to talk, and Hermione sat down at the edge of her bed.

�I need you to give this to your brother in the morning,� she said, shoving a scroll of paper in Madeline�s hand. �It�ll explain everything...�

Madeline grabbed hold of Hermione�s sleeve. �Wait a minute, explain what?� she said. �Mum, what�s going on?�

�Maddy, I need you to do something important for me, will you do that?�

�Of course,� Madeline said. �Anything...�

�I need you and Carrie to watch Ellie for a while,� Hermione said. �I�m going to go away for a bit, but I promise you I won�t be gone for to long-�

�Mum, what are you talking about?�

Hermione could feel the weight of her stare, even in the darkness. She knew explaining this would be difficult, but she just hoped her daughter would understand. Somehow, she had a feeling she would.

�I know your father�s still alive, Maddy,� she said. �I know it sounds absolutely mad, and... maybe it is, but... I know it. And I know he�s in danger, and someone has to help him.�

�How can you be sure?�

Hermione shook her head. �I don�t know, love. I just am. You trust me, don�t you?�

�Of course, I do, Mum.�

�Good,� Hermione said. �Good, I�m glad... Because I promise you, I would never think of doing this if I weren�t absolutely sure...� She reached out to cup Madeline�s cheek, feeling her daughter�s hand close over hers and give her a gentle squeeze. �I love you all so much,� she said. �I would never risk leaving you without both your parents. You have to believe me.�

�I know you wouldn�t.�

�I am going to bring your father back, Maddy,� she said. �That�s a promise.�