REBEL

2. GRAPHITE BLACK - STORM BLACK

2. GRAPHITE BLACK - STORM BLACK

As if it wasn't irksome enough that I run the risk of bumping into Malfoy at every bloody meal, after another week Harry decides that the bastard will be attending the training sessions from now on. Unarmed, of course, and always accompanied by either Blaise or Dennis Creevey, both of whom have actually volunteered to keep an eye on him. (Mad if you ask me.) While I know Malfoy doesn't pose a real threat under these conditions, I was still on the verge of going for Harry's throat when I found out.

I - don't - want - to - see - him. Why doesn't anyone get that?

Not even the new information on the so-called Exit (a ridiculous, childish term) can appease me. I seem to be the only one not giving in to the euphoria caused by Malfoy's second and third interrogation. By now, even Ron is comparatively neutral whenever the subject comes up.

"This ritual is a powerful tool, Hermione," he said just yesterday, shrugging. "If it helps us weaken Tom's army, then I can generously condone the fact that, of all insufferable gits, the ferret is the one who's going to teach us how to perform it."

After this statement, I buried my hopes of finding an ally in Ron once and for all.

He may be right. The Exit is certainly a powerful tool, provided it really works, of course. However, I'm not sure that this new knowledge is sufficient compensation for the troubles that come with Malfoy's defection. Like Death Eaters snooping around outside our villages, for example. It makes me want to scream.

I refocus on the here and now by taking a deep breath, then briskly push open the gym door. To my chagrin, the room is still full of chattering rebels, even though the workout should have ended ten minutes ago. I assume Ron forced them to do extra push-ups again. Which is really unfortunate, because I immediately notice an ominous, platinum blond smudge in my peripheral vision. Urgh, no, no, no.

I keep my eyes on the grey concrete floor as I stalk over to where Ron is disinfecting the sport mats with a few deft, if bored, flicks of his wand.

"It's an impertinence," I grouse. I stand next to him, hands on my hips, and watch him work his magic. "Going outside for a jog all by myself, that is. I was more busy looking over my shoulder than running."

"Then don't do it," Ron replies calmly, giving me a mildly amused look. "Your treadmill was pretty lonely this morning too."

I roll my eyes extensively and grate my teeth.

"You know why I didn't want to train here," I grumble.

Ron sighs and finishes the last disinfection charm with a slightly quicker movement of his wand before putting it away. Then he shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo trousers and turns to face me.

"Listen, Hermione," he says quietly, tilting his head slightly so he can look me in the eye. "I know you don't want him here. Neither do I, believe me. He's an arse and I don't trust him. But still — no wait, let me finish — but still we can't afford to turn down his offer and throw him out. His information are too valuable, unfortunately Harry is right about that."

"They are only valuable if they are true," I say seriously, "but we don't know that. For my part, I will not blindly trust anything that comes out of his mouth."

"I agree," Ron replies lightly, winking at me. "We will by no means trust him blindly, but will carefully verify each of his statements. Harry might be a bit over-motivated at the moment, but thank Merlin he's got the two of us to keep a cool head for him. The fact that Malfoy is more or less free to roam around here bugs me as much as it bugs you, but he can't do much harm, can he? So just ignore him. Or do like me and make his life miserable. I have found that giving him orders and then watching him obey is extremely satisfying."