Author's Note: Oh, wow, you guys. I can't believe I've done it. I found and followed a muse for something completely unrelated to Han/Leia. I know. Amazing. Unnatural. Er, weird. Anyhow, you can't blame me - I just finished rereading Half-Blood Prince and this just stuck with me and I decided to get it down, while it was still fresh in my mind. What happened immediately after Harry left with Dumbledore. Just a short snippet. Well, tell me how you like. :) For old readers:the next chapter of DotS is about a third of the way done, you shouldn't have to wait much longer.

Disclaimer: Every character and the plot belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. But the words themselves are mine.

"You need what's wrapped in them, it's the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say good-bye to her for me. I'd better go."


Ron stared at the back of Harry's head as he rushed off, the tiny bottle of golden liquid luck within his fingers. He looked at the bottle again. Would things really get so dangerous that they would have to use them?

Hell, he knew that it would.

He glanced up at Hermione, and wasn't shocked to see that she looked terrified.

"What's up?" he asked feebly, hoping to any and every god that she wouldn't start crying. He watched her try to, inconspicuously, brush the salty water from her eyes. He knew her too well to understand, however she wanted to pretend, that things were at unrest within her brilliant mind.

Hermione tried for a few seconds to keep a straight face. She failed miserably.

"I'm so scared! Harry's going off on some mission with Dumbledore and who knows if he will return -- and - and - oh, Ron, something terrible's going to happen tonight, I just know it!" she said shrilly, burying her face in her hands.

Ron cast an alarmed look around the Common Room, and was relieved to see that mo one seemed to be eavesdropping. He pushed himself off his chair and settled himself next to Hermione. He didn't say anything, didn't make a move otherwise. He watched her shoulders shake with a mixture of fear and despair, her curly, bushy brown hair falling forward and revealing a bare spot on the back of her neck, lightly grazed with tiny, wispy curls. He swallowed uncomfortably.

"Hermione -- " he started, then faltered. What kind of comfort can he offer, when he knew the immenence of her statement? Being a male, and especially being Ron Weasley, the region of comforting words and touches was vastly unknown territory to him. The usual things that came out of his mouth were either curses (both magical and for venting purposes) or some stupid remark that he let slip before he could stop himself.

"What's going on?"

Ron had never been more relieved to hear his sister's voice before. Well, this instance ranked as number two: first place was rightfully given to the time when she had been recoered from the Chamber of Secrets by Harry.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably. Harry. He knew it had to be dangerous, if not fatal, to steal a torn piece of Voldemort's soul.

"I - " he started, then thought for a moment. Be tactful, Weasley. "Ginny - Harry's gone with with Dumbledore."

Ginny frowned, looking between him and the silently crying Hermione. Ron was relieved that she was smart, because she seemed to put two and two together pretty easily.

"Is... is he coming back?"

"Well -- we dunno. I mean, we hope. They're trying to take a Dark object that's one of Voldemorts - er - more prized possessions..." No need to try to explain Horcruxes right now. "Harry told us to keep tabs on Malfoy and Snape. Up to it?"

Not one of his graceful moments, but...

"What d'you mean, 'up to it'? You think I'd bail, Ronald?"

"What?" Ron asked, incredulous, at his little sister's sudden outburst. "No! I mean - geez, Ginny, you know what I meant! See - " He brandished the bottle of Felix Felicis at her. "Harry wanted - wants," he corrected. "each of us to take a bit. Hermione?" he asked, peering around at her.

Hermione looked mute; her eyes were red, and her mouth was drawn into a very tight, white line. Her eyes snapped up to him as soon as he said her name.

"What."

"Er, well, can you do that coin thing again? Make them hot? Harry said to bring back old members of the D.A., so..."

She nodded. "It's in my trunk upstairs," she said quietly, abruptly standing up and hurrying up her dormitory staircase. Ron watched her until her foot dissapeared around spiral staircase. He bit his lip, his stomach clenching and unclenching, like it usually did before a Quidditch game. He turned back to Ginny, surprised to see her crying as well.

Oh, no. Two crying girls?

Ginny sniffed, her face straining to not let the tears fall. It didn't work.

Ron sighed, rubbing his forehead in frusteration. "Ginny - " God, he wished he knew how to do this. "Please don't cry. I mean, well, Harry'll be back. I promise."

She shook her head quietly. "You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do!" he said so forcefully that even he believed it for a moment. It seemed to work on Ginny - marginally, at least. Ron sighed, then pulled Ginny down to the couch next to him, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her shoulders and letting her head lean against his shoulder. He blamed Harry for this, and made a note to tell his friend that he was never to make Ginny cry again.

"It's done," said Hermione's choked voice from behind.

Will the crying never end?

"I set the place for right here, in front of the Fat Lady, for anyone who cares to check."

He detangled Ginny from himself, frowning at the wet spot on his shoulder. "Okay," he said, shakily, ignoring all the teariness around him as if that would make it go away.

A sudden movement caught his eye as Neville Longbottom stood, and made his way across the Common Room.

"Hey, guys... what's going on? I mean, I just felt... the coin..." he blushed a little, Ron couldn't fathom what for. In fact, he was relieved beyond anything that they had at least one member on their side. Neville had survived the Department of Mysteries, even if his nose came out a little crooked, he should be competent enough to keep a tab on Malfoy and his cronies.

"Great. Alright," Ron couldn't help but feeling a little proud that he was taking charge. "how 'bout Neville, Ginny, and I go to the Room of Requirement - I'll explain later, Neville - and you, Hermione, stay in front of the Fat Lady to see if any other members turn up? Wait fifteen minutes, if they don't, just... make the coin glow again, and set the place where, you know, we set the time to meet - well, set it to all fours. If they do turn up, set it to all sevens."

Hermoine nodded, looking relieved now that everything was clear and organized. "Let's go, then."

They all obliged, and, unnoticed by their other Housemates, climbed out of the portrait hole and started down the corrider. Then Hermione stopped.

"We're going to need the map," she mused. Ron almost hit himself for not thinking that. "Er, Neville, can you get it from Harry's trunk? It's just a big blank piece of ancient parchment..." Neville nodded, eager to help, and almost tripped over himself on his way down the hall.

The three remaining looked at eachother for a moment, then Ginny moodily stepped a few paces away, looking deeply troubled. Looking back at Hermione, Ron noticed that hers and his sister's expressions were mirror images.

"Listen, Hermione, it'll be alright. You'll see."

Hermione nodded, not opening her mouth, one tear falling down her cheek.

This gnawed at Ron's chest, and he was torn between the decision of screaming in frusteration or gathering Hermione within his arms. He considered for a moment, but before he knew it, Hermione suddenly flung herself at him, tightening her arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely.

"Ron, I'm so worried! What if something happens to you, or what if Harry's right about all this about Snape and Malfoy and one of us gets killed - I wouldn't be able to live with myself!"

Oh, please don't let him say it. He can't say it. ... He was gonna say it. "Well, if you're dead, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself anyway, considering..."

Dammit, Weasely, you're such a git!

Hermione's arms were suddenly gone from his neck, and he found himself missing their warmth. She stepped back, glaring at him. Ron could've kicked himself. "You're such a prat," she said sourly.

Ron sighed, not wanting to agree with it but feeling that he should - seeing that it was true. "Ah, okay, so that was a bit inconsiderate. I'm sorry. But c'mon, we've got lucky potion!"

Hermione looked slightly satisfied with his apology, but her eyes were still narrowed - dangerously, he thought. "You can't rely on luck for everything, Ronald," she said crossly.

"Well, no, but what about my magnificent abilities?"

Hermione snorted, and Ron was pleased to see that everything was back to normal again. Well, relatively. He grinned his crooked smile - and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed her softly on her wet cheek, drawing back suddenly as he just realized what he was doing. He felt his ears go hot, and he stole a look down at her, and saw that she was blushing as well.

"Er..." she started.

"Er, yeah," he replied. Bloody hell, this was awkward. He moistened his lips, catching the taste of Hermione's tears on them. Salty, but not overbearing. Like pure drops of the sea.

Why in the hell was he thinking of this now?

"Uh... Ginny, come over here," he said hastily. "Okay, lets split this before he comes back down..." he uncorked the bottle, then took a carefully measured sip, passing it to Ginny, who did likewise. Hermione seemed to hesitate a little, looking at Ron, then drunk down the rest, smacking her lips.

Ron's stomach suddenly soared, feeling unexpressively confident all of the sudden. Why couldn't they all just beat the hell out of Malfoy? His lot sure was smarter than anything Malfoy hung around... after all, they were only going on watch, who was to say that something would happen? Hell, he'd bet he could kiss Hermione right now - god dammit, he was being a prat again.

He looked at her, and, luckily, the tips of his ears didn't redden. She was still studying him curiously, and he was about to lean forward and give it with all he had...

But, most unluckily, Neville chose that time to clamber out of the portrait hole and jog over to them, unfolding the Marauder's Map.

"Sorry that took so long, d'you know how much paper Harry has in his trunk? Anyway, is this it?" he held the map to Ron, who took out his wand, tapped it, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Instantly, the outline of Hogwarts and its inhabitants appeared, and everyone leaned close to study it - Neville looking awestruck. Ron, slightly irritated, pushed Hermione's hair back where it was tickling his face and spilling forth onto the map, and caught a whiff that made him freeze.

It was a mixture of peppermint and something that faintly reminded him of the beach. A minty salt.

He found that he was completely intoxicated by the smell.

Hermione jerked him out of his daze by speaking. "Malfoy isn't on here, he must've gone to the Room of Requirement," she said hurriedly.

"Oh. Is he joining Dumbledore's Army, too?" asked a dreamy voice; everyone looked up, to see Luna Lovegood in her radished and bottlecapped glory. Ron tired to suppess a smile. Yes, Luna Lovegood definitely grew on him. Especially after her awesome commentary on Quidditch.

"No - Hermione will explain, I suppose, but we have to go," he said, straightening and pushing the map at Hermione. "You and Hermione are going to Snape's office; Neville, Ginny, and I are meeting Malfoy at the Room of Requirement - and bloody hell - Hermione, will you take the goddamn map?"

She shook her head defiantly, tugging it out of his hands and pushing it against his chest, letting go so he had to catch it. "You need it more than I do."

He was about to protest, but she had the fire in her eyes that captivated him, and he knew she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

"Whatever. Fine," he felt confident enough with the Felix Felicis to feel that Hermione could do fine on her own without the map. In fact, he felt that even he didn't need the map - but he took it, just because it made Hermione happy.

"If one group gets in trouble..." he hesitated. He didn't know what would happen then. "Well, I don't think that'll happen." He sent a faint smile down at Hermione, and around at the group, all of whom didn't seem to feel his confidence.

"Well, bye," he said to Luna and Hermione, hurrying down the corrider that would take him to the seventh floor. He glanced back once, and saw Hermione touching her cheek delicately with her fingers.

Ron looked ahead again, touching his own lips. Pure drops of the sea... a statement full of irony, but it was a perfect fit.