The Purist / DRAMIONE (COMPLETE)

Conversing in Charms

"Should we say something?" Hermione asked, watching Montague's parents march up the drive outside, looking incredibly angry. "About what happened to him? In case it helps Madam Pomfrey cure him?"

"Course not, he'll recover," replied Ron, sounding indifferent. 

How could he not care about somebody's well-being, whoever it was?

"Anyway, more trouble for Umbridge, isn't it?" Harry said, satisfied. 

He had a point, however insignificant.

Ron proved to show his lack of concentration when he broke the cup they were meant to be charming.

"Reparo," she said quickly, mending his cup. "That's all very well, but what if Montague's permanently injured?" 

Firstly, it would ruin Slytherin's chances at the Quidditch cup, and also, Montague had been mostly innocent.

"Who cares?" Ron questioned, once again showing his inability to feel compassion for another human being. "He shouldn't have tried to take all those points from Gryffindor, should he?" 

Hermione strongly suspected that Montague would have a very valid reason for taking points from the twins, especially if it was something that made them stick him in the Vanishing Cabinet to stop him telling anyone. 

"If you want to worry about anyone, Hermione, worry about me!"

"You?" Hermione asked, confused, stopping her cup from running off even further and putting it back in front of her. "Why should I be worried about you?" 

For a moment then Hermione worried that she'd missed out on an important detail pertaining to her friend.

"When Mum's next letter finally gets through Umbridge's screening process," Ron said bitterly. 

Hermione breathed in a sigh of relief. It was, yet again, some trivial matter. 

"I'm going to be in deep trouble. I wouldn't be surprised if she's sent another Howler."

"But_" Hermione began. Ron interrupted.

"It'll be my fault Fred and George left, you wait," Ron continued darkly. "She'll say I should've stopped them leaving, I should've grabbed the ends of their brooms or something... yeah, it'll be all my fault."

"Well, if she does say that it'll be very unfair, you couldn't have done anything!" Hermione interposed. "But I'm sure she won't, I mean, if it's really true they've got premises in Diagon Alley, they must have been planning this for ages."

"Yeah, but that's another thing, how did they get premises?" Ron said, hitting his teacup so hard that it collapsed once again and lay before him, twitching. "It's a bit dodgy, isn't it? They'll need loads of Galleons to afford the rent on a place in Diagon Alley. She'll want to know what they've been up to, to get their hands on that sort of gold."

"Well, yes, that occurred to me, too," Hermione agreed, allowing her teacup to run circles around Harry's, whose legs were still too short to reach the desk. "I've been wondering whether Mundungus has persuaded them to sell stolen goods or something awful." 

Truthfully, she wondered whether it had anything to do with Harry, who hadn't spoken once in the entire conversation and looked slightly shifty.

"He hasn't," Harry eventually said, curtly.

"How do you know?" Hermione asked, just as Ron did.

"Because_" Harry hesitated. He appeared conflicted. "Because they got the gold from me. I gave them my Triwizard winnings last June."

There was a shocked silence. Hermione briefly lost concentration and her cup decided to smash itself on the floor.

"Oh, Harry, you didn't!" She said reprovingly, though not completely surprised. It was a nice gesture, and he did have a lot of money.

"Yes, I did," replied Harry, mutinously. "And I don't regret it, either. I didn't need the gold, and they'll be great at running a joke shop."

"But this is excellent!" Ron looked thrilled. "It's all your fault, Harry – Mum can't blame me at all! Can I tell her?" Sometimes Ron was so childish; he shouldn't fear his mother's letters.

"Yeah, I suppose you'd better," Harry said dully, "'specially if she thinks they're receiving stolen cauldrons orsomething."    

This brought to mind Hermione's favourite saying. The truth will out.