Chapter 7

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"She's getting worse." Harry scratched the back of his neck. "Today I found her pretty much ready to hex an auror, all because he was following orders and not letting her into a restricted area."

"What?" Ginny's eyes were wide. "I knew that she wasn't herself, but she'd never normally go that far. What's going on with her?"

"I have no idea. But it probably doesn't help that Ron is constantly trying to get into her pants." Harry glared at Ron, who grimaced sheepishly.

"I thought we'd have a chance after the war! Especially after the kiss in the Chamber of Secrets. It's not my fault that she insists on having no sex life."

"Anyway, we need to find out what's going on... because soon I think she'll become a danger to other people, judging what she did earlier."

"How do you expect her to open up? We've been trying since the war ended!" Ginny threw her hands in the air.

"We could spike her drink? Get her drunk?" Harry suggested.

"I've been trying to do that for years! She's too smart for that."

"Thats because she's expecting you to do it, Ron. She'd never expect a drink from Ginny or me to contain something spiked." Harry looked down at the ground. "I know it is not the most moral of actions but I'm worried for our friend. Do you think we should go through with it?" The others nodded.


Hermione stood in the Potter living room, talking to various Weasleys and avoiding certain questions while waiting for Harry to get back to her with that drink.

"So Hermione," George started, "How's your love life?" At this everyone in the room started to talk more quietly, and moved closer towards the pair.

"I swear if you've asked this on Ron's behalf-" Hermione rolled up her sleeves to above her elbows, exposing something on her upper inner arm.

"No! Don't worry, I did not ask it with Ron in mind." George noticed her arm. "But when did you get a tattoo?" 

Hermione's hands went straight to the area between her breasts, as if trying to hide something, her eyes wide with sudden fear. "What tattoo?" She challenged after trying to recompose herself.

"The one on your arm." Hermione relaxed a bit, and pulled her sleeve down. She was filled with a sudden remorse and she let down her guards slightly. "What does it say?"

"I knew you were smart." She said softly.

"Anyone could have told you that." George laughed. "What made that so special?"

"It was my father's last message to me... before he died."

Everyone looked at Hermione with a new found sadness, including Harry, who had just walked into the room.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know he died." George patted Hermione's shoulder. "I thought your parents were safe during and after the war." At this Hermione's brain woke up along with her guards and she mentally cursed herself for her stupidity. Hermione just nodded as a reply to George's statement.

"Hermione?" Harry stood behind her, she turned around. "Your drink."

"Thank you." She smiled slightly at her friend. But her smile faltered as she noticed a slightly guilty look in his eyes. She eyed him wearily before taking a sip, which she immediately spat out. "You spiked my drink." She whispered into the glass. "YOU SPIKED MY DRINK!" She shouted at the Boy Who Lived.


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