The Boy Who Had No Choice

The New Boy

I only stopped to breathe once deep within the Gryffindor common room. As I clambered through the portrait a firing squad blew mercilessly at nothing until I let my shield fall. Bleeding and feeble I fell at their feet, wand down.

Headmistress McGonagall approached me carefully, wand poised and ready to strike. At times like these I could see how she had gained the respect of Gryffindor house.

She was formidable.

"Name, house, age, and birthday," I could see the pain in her. Having to question a student at wand point wasn't in the job description.

"Hermione G-"

"Middle name,"

"Hermione Jean Granger, Gryffindor, 17, September 19th."

She'd barely lowered her wand when the Weasleys rushed to me. Ron and George were quick to help me up, moving me gingerly toward the couch where they were sitting. Charlie rummaged through his pouch while Percy debated which venom -arachnid or reptile- would do me the most justice.

Whatever meeting they'd been having had come to an end.

Molly was busy caring for me when the dam broke. Her crystalline eyes filled with heavy tears and her pudgy arms wound around me like coils. Through her sobbing it was impossible to tell what she was on about.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed, "mum she's fine now. There's no reason to keep on blubbering!"

"We were sure you were dead." Ginny explained, "when you stood up one of the death eaters launched themselves from the crowd and disapparated with you." She wiped her nose, "no one had time to do anything." Her bottom lip trembled, but she pulled it back.

"We named the battle after you and everything." Fred snickered, "we were pretty sure you were a goner." I couldn't help snorting despite the pain in my ribs. Leave it to Fred to make light of a dark situation.

"But don't worry," George waved his hand as if I'd taken up too much of his time, "you can keep this battle, but the next one is mine."

At that moment McGonagall called us back to attention. There was too much to plan and too little time to plan it. Without Harry we needed another plan and surprisingly, no one was entirely willing to be the object of Voldemort's constant attention.

Ron and I looked between each other for a moment. It was clear he'd beg me if he could, but Harry was our friend. We didn't help him while we could. We let him be 'The Boy Who Lived' when we should have been 'The Three Who Fought'.

Now it was my turn. Struggling to wiggle free of Molly's death grip, I raised my hand.

"I'll do it."

Silence. Kingsley shifted uneasily in his chair.

"Maybe someone with a bit more..." he looked ashamed to be suggesting it, but it didn't convince him to shut his mouth, "bronze."

McGonagall's mouth straightened into a thin, tight line, but she said nothing. Instead she waited for anyone else to step up. The twins fussed with each other over who got to be the new 'Specky Git', but neither fully volunteered. They needed the other too much to make such a sacrifice and we all knew it.

Ron looked about ready to mess himself at the thought of it. It was clear that Kingsley expected Ronald to speak up. Why wouldn't he ? Ron was the perfect candidate. He was young, magically inclined, and desperate to prove himself. The only thing he was missing was the desire. But who could blame him?

"Well?" McGonagall was smug as she turned to Kingsley, "your 'bronze' isn't willing. So I say we take the brains. All for Hermione taking on the role as savior raise your wands." Tiny beads of light drifted toward the ceiling one by one and then -suddenly-by the masses. When I shuffled around I found that only two beads were missing; Kingsley and Ronald.

"You don't have to do this Mione." The Ginger turned the full affect of his gaze on me, "you don't have anything to prove."

"It's not about proving myself. It's about doing what's right." And with that his light drifted up the join the rest.

McGonagall beamed. The little lights danced around my form before exploding into golden sparks.

"We'll talk more when you're healed. For now rest and celebrate your victory."