Dumbledore was silent for a moment. In the silence, Charlie could hear Fawkes rustling on his perch. It seemed to him the phoenix was making a low humming noise, almost music. 'I know,' Dumbledore said finally, his eyes troubled. 'But perhaps you are too close to this situation, Charles, to be objective. I can only reiterate that at the moment, it is not my business to intrude.'
'Objective about what?' Charlie demanded. 'This puzzle doesn't add up, sir. If Ron's telling the truth, then both he and Hermione were acting bizarrely out of character. And apparently Hermione denied the whole thing. So either she's lying, or my brother is, or one of them has gone completely mad — which, I should think, would be a matter of concern for the school.'
'I talked to your brother at length,' Dumbledore said. 'He is not mad. He is quite lucid.'
'What does Remus say?' asked Charlie abruptly. 'Has he contacted Sirius?
Perhaps Harry could go home early. Classes are all but over, after all.'
Dumbledore shook his head. 'Harry specifically requested that we not contact Sirius. He was anxious that the wedding not be spoiled.'
Charlie felt a frustrated anger tug at him — at himself for not seeing something was wrong earlier, at Harry for stubbornly refusing any kind of comforting, at his brother for being so willfully blind. His sympathies were torn — he could only imagine what it would be like for Ginny when she discovered what had happened. Ron was their brother and they loved him unconditionally, but Harry had always been an honorary member of the family as well, and he was so very obviously shattered by what had happened. Charlie's heart broke for him, not just for the teenager who had lost his two best friends in one night, but the fragile little boy who had never had a family. For years Ron and Hermione had been all the family Harry had ever known.
When he spoke, his voice was rougher than he intended. 'I should think you could see there was something else going on here. I would think you'd want to protect Harry.'
'That has always been,' said Dumbledore gravely, 'my primary concern. I have always sought to protect Harry from any harm that might come to him, physically or magically. But I cannot protect him from the ordinary disappointments of life, nor would I if I could.'
'But that's what I'm saying,' said Charlie in a low voice. 'There's nothing ordinary about this. This behavior isn't like my brother, it certainly isn't like Hermione either. Obviously there's some outside manipulation going on. It might look like some irrelevant adolescent romantic tangle, but…'
'Outside manipulation? Outside manipulation by whom?'
Charlie opened his mouth, then shut it again. He knew perfectly well that there was no reason not to say the name, but was reluctant all the same.
'Well,' he said, 'the obvious.'
'Voldemort?' snapped Dumbledore, and Charlie flinched. 'Unlikely.'
'Unlikely why?' Charlie demanded. 'Ron and Hermione have always been among Harry's greatest protections. If they were taken away — '
'If Voldemort wanted them taken away, he would kill them,' said Dumbledore flatly, and Charlie shivered. 'Such a ruse as this would never occur to him. He is not like a human man. There are no thoughts like our thoughts in his head, no feelings like our feelings in his heart.'
'But he must have felt once,' said Charlie. 'He was born a human man, like the rest of us.'
Dumbledore reached out a hand and gently stroked Fawkes' head, and the phoenix hummed again. 'You mean when he was Tom Riddle,' he said.
'Yes, perhaps then, he knew human feeling. If not love, then he knew jealousy and yearning and rage. Not just this blind grasping after power.
Not this passionless killing.'
Charlie felt a faint surprise stir in his heart. 'Are you afraid of him?'
'I would be a fool not to be wary,' said Dumbledore. 'And yet I do not think he was behind this current… situation.'
'Then who?' Charlie asked.
Dumbledore shook his head. 'I do not know, Charles…I do not know.'
Everything after that happened very fast.
The girl-who-looked-like-Hermione-but-wasn't gasped once, and Ron spun around. His eyes widened hugely in his white face, and he stared at the real Hermione, who gaped back at him. The moment hung suspended between them, like an airplane with its engines cut, waiting to plummet.
Released from the grip of Ron's hands, the girl bolted to her feet. Ron spun back around and reached for her, but she was too quick for him -
she tore her sleeve out of his reaching grasp and raced for the door. She avoided Draco but slammed straight into Hermione, knocking her down.
This barely slowed the girl's hurtling forward progress — she stumbled, righted herself, and flew down the corridor, vanishing around the corner so quickly she almost skidded and fell.
Ron immediately flung himself after her, but Draco was too quick for him.
He grabbed Ron by the arm, and barked at Hermione, 'Go! Go!' She didn't need to be told twice; she sprang to her feet and bolted after the girl, dragging her wand out of her sleeve as she ran. Ron tried to pull away, but Draco spun him against the wall so hard that the breath was knocked out of him. He gasped and his knees buckled; Draco caught him with an iron grip on his upper arms, and held him fast. 'Who is she?' he hissed, and shook Ron, hard. 'Who is she really?
Ron stared at Draco defiantly. 'I have no idea.'
'Bollocks,' said Draco, and slammed him back against the wall again. Ron regarded him blindly, as if he wasn't there, as if the grip on his arms didn't hurt. 'Who is she?'
'I don't know,' Ron said, woodenly. 'That's what I was trying to find out.'
'You're lying, Weasley.'
'Think whatever you want,' said Ron, looking away from Draco, 'I'm telling the truth.'
Draco stared at him, taking in the blank, stunned expression on Ron's face. 'So you don't even know who you've been shagging, do you? That must be nice for you. She could have been anyone. Anything.'
'Don't,' Ron said, but his tone was hopeless, as if he didn't expect mercy, and wouldn't have thought he deserved it if it were offered.
Draco leaned his face in close to Ron's, and spoke in his ear. His tone was conversational. 'You know, there are two simple rules of friendship, Weasley, and you've broken both of them. The first one is: you don't screw your best friend's girlfriend. Two: you don't screw your best friend's girlfriend.' Draco grinned without amusement. 'I recognize that's only one rule, but since you apparently failed to catch it on the first go-round, I thought it was worth restating.'
Ron dragged his eyes back to Draco's face, and looked at him with dull loathing. 'I don't see what it's got to do with you, Malfoy.'
'It has everything to do with me.'
'Why? You hated me before. Now you get to hate me with Harry for company. What's the difference? Aren't you glad I turned out to be just what you always thought I was?'
'If you're waiting for me to thank you for living down to my expectations of you, you'll be waiting a long time,' said Draco shortly. 'Even I expected better of you than that.'
'You would have done it,' said Ron, his voice flat.
Draco's muscles stiffened. 'I would have done what?'
'The same thing,' Ron said. 'If she'd wanted you.'
It was a moment before Draco could speak. When he did, his tone was sharp and cold as an icicle. 'Might I point out,' he said, 'that she didn't want you either. Snap out of the dream state, Weasley. She never wanted you.'
Ron laughed. It sounded less like a laugh than a gasp of pain. 'But you're not denying it,' he said. 'Are you?'
