Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch

Jack Ryan

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 10/09/2003
Last Updated: 13/06/2004
Status: in_progress

This is a sixth year fic (OotP spoilers) that is very H/Hr. One of the most reviewed fics on Portkey, so please do read and review...UPDATE: After a three year hiatus, I decided to start up this story again. In it, the Ministry elections are held and Ron mentions a "fail-safe" way to charm witches. :) Please read and review!

Chapters

1. The Return to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

2. O.W.L. Results

3. The First Attacks

4. Jerek Samsung

5. Return to Hogwarts

6. Lessons with Kingsley

7. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

8. Acceptance

9. Election

1. The Return to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

Chapter One---The Return to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

The dog days of summer were finally drawing to a close and Harry James Potter was very glad that they were. Whenever someone mentioned “dog” these days, he would snap at them angrily or leave the room.

The reason for this was that his godfather, an Animagus who could turn into a dog, had been dead for over a month. Harry simply didn't feel alive anymore and anybody mentioning dogs was quickly silenced by him.

Harry sighed. His aunt and uncle had been distant from him all summer and he was growing very bored in his room. But whenever he was in their company, he wanted quickly to be alone. It was quite strange and Harry didn't like this feeling at all.

Tap. Tap.

Harry looked up. His owl, Hedwig, had returned from Ron's house and she was carrying a letter. He quickly rushed over to her window and opened it. Harry affectionately stroked her feathers and untied the note.

Hey Harry,

Hope you're feeling alright and you got my birthday present. Anyway, Loopy's picking you up tomorrow (can't say anymore since this owl might be intercepted) and we're going to the same place as last year. See you tomorrow---we'll talk then.

Ron

Harry groaned. So they were going to go the Sirius' house. Great, just what he needed. He flopped down on his bed. He thought back over the letter. “Loopy's picking you up tomorrow,” probably meant that Remus Lupin (called `Loony, Loopy Lupin' by Peeves, the Hogwarts' poltergeist), his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was probably picking him up again to go to the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry walked down the stairs where his aunt, uncle, and cousin were eating dinner and watching the television with keen interest.

“Er---Uncle Vernon?”

Uncle Vernon tore his piggy eyes from the TV, “Yes, boy, what is it?”

“Well, those people you met at the station (his uncle gave a noise that sounded like a mixture of a snort and a gasp) are coming to pick me up tomorrow. I won't be back until next year.”

Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed, “I certainly hope they arrive decently. Wait a minute, they're not bringing those dementy-whatsits, are they?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “No, the dementors are outside of Ministry control and why on Earth would they want to bring them here anyway?”

Uncle Vernon shrugged, “Well, I suppose you can go. It'll be nice to have you out of the house.”

Harry nodded curtly and trudged back up the stairs.

Hedwig was off returning the affirmative message to Ron, so Harry took the time to polish his Firebolt which had finally been returned to him at the end of the last school year after its lengthy imprisonment by his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge.

Harry felt a hot, sick swoop of anger filter through his stomach as he thought of Umbridge. The old hag had fired Professor Trelawney (not much of a loss) and Hagrid (huge loss, as he was one of Harry's best friends) from their teaching jobs. She had also gotten rid of Headmaster Dumbledore, sent Professor McGonagall to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and banned Harry and Ron's brothers, Fred and George from ever playing Quidditch again. Thanks to Hermione's (Harry's other best friend) plan to make Harry avoid getting the Cruciatus Curse from Umbridge, the teacher had been kidnapped by centaurs and when she had returned, Umbridge had quickly left to go back to the Ministry of Magic, under Cornelius Fudge's orders. Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was just doing what Dumbledore had told him to do (although it had taken him a long time to realize that Voldemort was back, when he finally did realize the truth, Fudge had listened to whatever Dumbledore told him.)

Hermione had informed him that his Quidditch ban had been lifted which was extremely relieving news to Harry. Quidditch was very important to him.

As he remembered his friends and his godfather, he began to feel angry with himself. If it hadn't been for his stupidity, his godfather would still be alive and Harry's friends wouldn't have nearly died. Especially Hermione. Harry's heart caught in his throat as he remembered Hermione getting hit by that spell from Antonin Dolohov and her long unconsciousness after it. Harry didn't think he'd ever been so panicked. What would he do without her or Ron?

Harry pulled his glasses off his nose and surveyed himself in the mirror. He was still as skinny as ever and only was of an average height. He sighed. Except for Cho Chang, nobody had ever thought he was attractive, except for maybe Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but Harry felt that she had just liked him because he was the famous Harry Potter. And you can't even be sure Cho liked you, she probably just wanted to find out more about Cedric, a nasty voice said in his head.

He ordered it to shut up and collapsed onto the bed, tired from more than just the day's normal activities.

The next day he awoke to a loud crash from downstairs. Grabbing his glasses, he murmured, “What the hell?”

He then heard his uncle shouting fearfully. Harry quickly ran down the stairs, his wand out.

“Harry! Good to see you!” he heard a voice call.

He turned and saw Remus Lupin waving eagerly. Harry looked around the kitchen and saw Uncle Vernon covering Aunt Petunia and Dudley fearfully, his face purple. There was a broken plate on the floor which had probably been dropped by one of the Dursleys when Lupin had Apparated in.

“Everyone's already waiting for you. Dumbledore's set up a Portkey for you, so go and get your trunk and we'll leave.”

Harry ran upstairs and grabbed his trunk.

“Hey, Hedwig, meet me in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place,” Harry said to her, letting her out of her cage.

She flew off and Harry took the cage and his trunk downstairs where it seemed Aunt Petunia had fainted.

“See you next summer, then,” said Harry uncertainly.

Uncle Vernon just growled.

Lupin motioned Harry over and pulled out a moldy boot.

“Okay. One---two---three.”

Harry felt a sharp jerk around his navel as Aunt Petunia's spotless kitchen disappeared.

When Harry finally came spinning out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place he was quickly seized by a group of hands.

“HARRY! How are you?” came about a half dozen voices.

“Fine, fine,” said Harry, brushing soot off of his clothes. He straightened his glasses and glanced around to get a good look at everyone.

Mrs. Weasley was looking even thinner and paler than the last time he had seen her; she seemed to have lost a lot of weight in the past year or so since Voldemort had returned. He spotted Fred and George casually leaning against a pouf, grinning from ear to ear. He noticed that they were still in those lurid dragon scale coats that they had recently acquired. Ginny was standing near the twins, also beaming. Harry's eyes finally fell upon his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. For an unexplained reason, words failed him. He simply held out his arms and the three of them buried themselves in a three-way hug.

“I've missed you guys,” Harry said, his voice cracking.

“Not as much as we've missed you,” Hermione murmured, her cheek rubbing against Harry's.

They finally let go and Harry grinned at Ron.

“Wow, you've grown like two more inches, Ron. You're going to be six feet tall in no time!”

Ron grinned back at Harry, “Yeah, it's really cool. Dad reckons it comes from my grandfather. So, how's your summer been?”

Harry's eyes darkened and he said, almost pleadingly, “Maybe we'll talk about it upstairs. Can we go, Mrs. Weasley?”

She nodded, “Yes, Ginny, can you help me with dinner?”

Ginny rolled her eyes disappointedly, “Yes, mum.”

“Good girl.”

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny headed off to the kitchens, while Fred and George, sensing the need for the trio to be alone, quickly headed off to their rooms to work on some new candies for their joke shop.

Ron led the way up to the room that he would share with Harry. Harry vaguely noticed Hermione had her hand in his and was squeezing it lightly. It was an oddly pleasant feeling and Harry quite enjoyed it.

They entered the room and Harry collapsed onto his bed from the previous summer. Hermione sat down next to him and Ron sat on his own bed.

“Well? How has your summer been?” Ron asked, looking slightly fearful.

Harry stood up and began pacing, “Well, the Dursleys treated me normally so that's not really important. But ever since Sirius----”

Harry broke off, unable to continue. Ron nodded understandingly and Hermione stood up and gave Harry a hug.

“Harry,” she whispered, “it's not your fault.”

Harry broke away from her hug and stared at both of them with tears streaming down his face, but feeling the need to talk.

“Yes, it is. If I hadn't run off like an idiot to the Department of Mysteries, Sirius would still be alive. You almost got killed yourself, Hermione. The three most important people in my life were hurt badly and one of them was killed. Even you, Ron, you went crazy for a little bit. What if you never came out of that? What if Hermione never woke up from her coma? You warned me Hermione,” Harry said, unable to look at either of them, “I do have a `saving-people-thing' and it led to the death of my godfather.”

Ron stood up and motioned for Hermione to be silent. He felt it was time for some man-to-man talk.

“Harry, not for one minute do you blame yourself. If it weren't for your so-called `saving-people-thing' my sister would be dead, You-Know-Who would have had the Philosopher's Stone in our first year, you would never have found out the truth about Sirius, and you never would've gotten kissed by Fleur Delacour!” Ron said, blushing a bit when he mentioned Fleur, “Come on, Harry, you know if it wasn't for your `saving-people-thing,' so many people would be dead or hurt.”

Ron clapped Harry on the back supportively, but Harry just turned around and stared at both of them.

“Because of my `saving-people-thing,' the closest thing I've ever had to a father is gone! Don't you see that Ron? Sure, a bunch of other things that came from my stupidity have helped people, but SIRIUS IS DEAD! And it's my fault!”

Hermione hugged Harry again, this time from the back so she was sort of enveloping him. She leaned in close so her cheek was touching his and he could feel her breath on his face. For some reason, this slowly calmed him down.

“Listen, Harry, Sirius would not want you to mope like this. He'd want you to go on with your life and just dedicate what you did for him. And I know you will. When you kill Voldemort, it will not be done in vain. It will be for your parents, for Cedric Diggory, for Bertha Jorkins, for Sirius, and the countless innocent others slaughtered by Voldemort. You must stay strong and accomplish this for them.”

Harry came out of Hermione's hug and turned to face them.

“Wait a minute, how d'you know I had the power to kill Voldemort?”

Hermione smiled slightly, “Dumbledore told us a little bit about it.”

Harry nodded and then the tears started falling from his face again, “How can I do this? Everyone I love except for you two and Hagrid are dead and now I have to go be a murderer! I'm no savior; I'm just an ordinary guy who got stuck with an impossible task.”

Hermione leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then drew back and stared straight into his eyes, “Harry, it's not an impossible task and you're no ordinary guy. You're the bravest, kindest, greatest guy I know. You may not be a savior, Harry, but you are my hero and the hero of countless other people.”

She kissed him on the cheek again and looked at him closely as if judging to see if Harry had even listened to a word she had said.

Ron nodded, “She's right, mate. You are a hero and I'd follow you anywhere, even if I got hurt. You're the best friend a bloke could have and I'm just glad I know you.”

Harry was surprised to see a tear coming out of Ron's eye. He had never seen Ron cry before.

“Oh, Ron! Hermione!” he said, tears falling from his own face. He pulled them together and they hugged and held each other as if there would be no tomorrow.

Harry leaned back and cracked a smile at the two of them, “Same thing goes for me. You two are the best friends anyone could have and I love you both.”

Ron nodded, wiping his tears away. Harry noticed that Hermione was still crying, but she was smiling. Harry threw an arm around her.

“Are you alright, Hermione?”

“Yeah,” she sniffled, “I just feel so upset for you, Harry. All you've had to go through and now the burden of being a murderer in the future…I just wish you could have a normal life----”

Harry cut her off, “Hermione, I will have a normal life. When I defeat Voldemort, I promise you two that we'll have as normal a life as we can. And we'll always be together, alright?”

They nodded and they three-way hugged again.

“Dinner's ready!” a voice floated up from downstairs.

Grinning, the trio walked down the stairs with Harry's arms casually slung about the two.

Harry couldn't stop smiling throughout the great meal of beef noodles. He knew that Fred, George, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley (Mr. Weasley was strangely absent), and Lupin were staring at Harry perplexedly. They had no idea why on earth he seemed to be so cheerful.

Ron and Hermione, on the other hand, were also grinning like a pair of idiots and Ron kept reaching over and pounding Harry good-naturedly on the back. Meanwhile, Hermione had taken Harry's hand when they had sat down and still hadn't let go. Harry didn't mind it in the least, although he was slightly confused by it.

“OK, I'll bite,” said Ginny, rolling her eyes, “what happened? You three are grinning like the three of you just had three-way sex with each other.”

Hermione blushed and Ron's ears turned bright red. Harry just rolled his eyes, but Ginny got what she asked for when her mother slapped her on the arm.

“Ginny! Don't ever speak like that! I'm sure they have a perfectly good reason to be so happy----”

“If you must know, Ginny,” Ron interrupted his mother, glaring at his younger sister, “we're smiling because we're a little cheered up by each other's company and we're trying to be happy together instead of glooming around because of petty things like Dean Thomas rejecting our advances.”

Ginny blushed and stayed silent for the rest of the meal. Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a faint smile when he uttered this, but quickly hid it when she noticed everyone caught it.

“Well,” said Harry, changing the subject, “has anything new happened?”

Mrs. Weasley shook her head, “Nothing important, actually. Remus thinks that You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters are lying low now because of his failure in the Department of Mysteries last month.”

Harry's face turned stony when she mentioned the Department of Mysteries, but he felt a bit reassured when Hermione gave his hand a light squeeze and changed the subject.

“Where's Mr. Weasley?”

Mrs. Weasley exchanged a fleeting glance with Lupin and said, “Arthur's on Order work that we can't discuss with you.”

“What else is new?” Fred said, rolling his eyes, “I personally think that at least Harry has a right to know, seeing what happened last month.”

Harry nodded quickly, but Mrs. Weasley shook her head sadly.

“I'm sorry, Harry, but this is so important only about six or seven Order members know about it. Even Bill, Charlie, Mundungus, and Tonks don't know about it, so I'm afraid that we can't let you know.”

Everyone around the table groaned in defeat, but Hermione still looked curious.

“Who does know about it?” she asked; Harry vaguely noticed that she still hadn't let go of his hand.

“Dumbledore, Remus, Arthur, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Snape and me. It's quite top-secret and I repeat that we can't let you know.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, that makes sense----”

He was cut off when there was a slight rustling and a new being walked into the kitchen, muttering under its breath the whole time.

“So he's returned. The Boy Who Lived with his blood traitor friends and a half-breed. And there's his Mudblood girlfriend----”

Harry leapt to his feet and glared at Kreacher, the house-elf. The anger that Hermione and Ron had effectively subdued quickly came boiling up to the surface again.

“You little---- (Harry called Kreacher something that made Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley gasp) ----STAY AWAY FROM ME AND MY FRIENDS IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO KILL YOU RIGHT NOW! IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU, HE'D STILL BE ALIVE!”

Harry pulled out his wand and pointed at the foul animal.

“Harry,” said Hermione, pulling on his arm warningly, “come on, you don't want to be expelled for using magic!”

Hermione's gentle voice soothed him and Harry gradually calmed down, but still was glaring at Kreacher.

“You're a disgrace to house-elves and I'll personally see to it that you never get your damn head stuck on the wall like you want to.”

Harry gave one more angry glance at Kreacher and sat down, still fuming.

“GET OUT OF THIS KITCHEN!” Fred shouted at Kreacher, who hurried out, still muttering under his breath.

“Are you all right, Harry?” asked Ron, looking concerned.

“Yeah,” said Harry, jabbing his fork in the pumpkin pie that Mrs. Weasley had made for desert, “it's just that seeing that little (expletive) brought back not so good memories.”

Ron nodded understandingly and Hermione squeezed his hand again.

“Thanks, guys,” he murmured.

“No problem,” said Hermione.

“Well, speaking of sticking house-elves on the walls,” George said, still looking rather violently angry, “Lupin says that Sirius's will says that you are the new owner of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.”

“Really?” said Harry rather incredulously.

Lupin nodded, “George is right. From your 17th birthday, you own this house. So next year, after your birthday, you can move in here and live here as long as you want or at least until you get your own house.”

Harry nodded, still numbed by the news. Ron got an evil look on his face.

“Cool! And then you can have a little `accident' and Kreacher can die…”

Strangely enough, no one, not even Hermione, bothered to argue with this.

“Time to go to bed,” said Mrs. Weasley, “get some sleep, children. All right?”

“Yes, mum,” they all said (except for Hermione), even Harry.

Mrs. Weasley smiled, and wiped a tear out of her eye, “Go on.”

They walked up and bade good-bye to Ginny who now had a separate room from Hermione on the first floor now.

Next was Ron and Harry's room.

“Hey, Hermione,” said Harry, “d'you mind staying in our room for a little bit, so we can keep talking?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling, and walked in with them. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that Fred and George gave him a salacious wink. He rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him. The trio listened absently as Fred and George made loud, thumping noises up the stairs as they headed to their own room.

“Well, I can't say that I didn't want you to kill Kreacher,” said Ron.

“Me neither,” Hermione admitted, sitting next to Harry, “but you can't do magic outside of school and we still don't want you to be a murderer until you have to be.”

Harry nodded, “Thanks for calming me down. So, why don't we talk about something else besides the Order and stuff?”

Ron shrugged, “OK. Well, Fred and George's shop is doing really, really well. They're making a profit of about five hundred Galleons a month. And they're giving half of it to Mum and Dad every month, so Mum's in love with them. And Charlie finally made it over here and he's out doing a mission with Tonks, dunno what it is. Bill's still hanging out at Gringotts and right now, he's getting some goblin supporters for the Order. That and smooching Fleur Delacour (Ron made a nasty face). Lucky git! Anyway, like I mentioned earlier, Dean rejected Ginny's advances. He's got his eyes on Parvati and rejected Ginny via owl post about two weeks ago. She's really been gloomy since. And Dad's off doing Order stuff most of the time----”

“What about Percy?” Harry interrupted, “Did he come around?”

Ron made a nasty face, “Nope, the stupid git won't admit he was wrong and he still hasn't stopped by. Mum's still upset about that. I think that's why she got all teary about you call her mum.”

“Yeah, well she's like my second mum,” said Harry, smiling, “you can tell her that if you want.”

Ron grinned, “She'd love to hear that.”

Harry laughed and turned to Hermione, “What about you? Anything new with you?”

“Not really,” she said, shaking her head, “except that Remus donated fifty Galleons to S.P.E.W. yesterday!”

Harry smirked, “Still on about that?”

“Yes!” she said, her eyes shining, “Other than bad apples like Kreacher, most house-elves are decent! The Society would provide a way for Elfish welfare to be further from the sad state it's in now. Did you know that Sirius set aside one thousand Galleons for me to use in S.P.E.W.?!”

Harry's eyes widened, “Really? That's great, Hermione! Wait a minute; did he set me aside anything besides the house?”

Ron nodded, grinning, “Yup, other than the one thousand Galleons apiece that he gave me, Hermione, Remus, Fred and George, and Mum and Dad, everything else is yours.”

Harry's breath caught in his throat, “How much is that?”

Hermione grinned, “Five million Galleons, 22 Sickles, and 13 Knuts.”

Harry whistled, “That's a lot of money. I wonder how he made so much…”

They nodded and Hermione said, “Yeah…he was really cool and nice too.”

Harry nodded grimly and shook the tears out of his eyes.

“Well,” said Ron, “I'm off to bed. I'll see you two in the morning.”

Harry and Hermione nodded as Ron lay down and two minutes later, they heard his light snoring.

“Are you truly alright?” Hermione asked, her chocolate eyes burning into his own green.

He shrugged, “I think so. You two have really helped me and I owe you for that.”

She stood up and stretched, “Good, I'll be going then.”

Hermione was about to leave, but Harry felt himself pulling her back.

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

Hermione said nothing, but simply pushed Harry down into the bed and followed him into it. Harry put one arm around her waist and leaned his head against her shoulder.

“Sweet dreams, Hermione.”

“You too.”

They fell asleep, completely interlocked in each other's arms.

2. O.W.L. Results

DISCLAIMER: All Harry Potter characters, figures, and places belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. No money is being made (oh well…sigh) from the use of these characters…

Chapter Two---O.W.L. Results

“Oy! You two, get your own room!” Harry heard a loud voice call.

Grumbling, Harry awoke and found that Hermione was still in his arms sleeping peacefully and Ron was at the foot of his bed, laughing and grinning like a maniac.

“So, what happened after I went to sleep?” asked Ron, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry made no move to let Hermione out of his arms. She just felt too good in them for him to give it up so easily.

“Nothing, Ron,” said Harry, rolling his eyes, “I just asked her to stay with me for a little bit and we fell asleep.”

Ron looked slightly disappointed, “That's it? How boring.”

Harry grinned, “My sole purpose in life isn't to please you, Ron!”

They began laughing and fake-punching each other.

“'S'matter?” asked Hermione sleepily.

They began laughing even harder and Ron smirked at her, “It's just that it's kind of funny to see you in the morning, tired just like the rest of us mere mortals. Especially since you're in Harry's bed!”

“What?” yelped Hermione, quickly sitting up.

“Forget to go back after last night's escapades?” Ron asked, grinning devilishly.

She rolled her eyes, “I'm just surprised I fell asleep so quickly. I thought I'd probably go once Harry was asleep, even if he didn't ask me to.”

Ron rounded on Harry, “You didn't ask her to leave after you slept? You wanted her to sleep in the same bed as you for the whole night?!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I just needed some comfort and Hermione's good at giving me comfort---- (Ron smirked at this) ----Not like that, Ron! When will you ever learn?”

“Sorry, mate, just having a bit of fun.”

“Well,” said Hermione, “I think I'll leave you two to argue like seven year olds. I, on the other hand, will go to my room and get dressed.”

“Dress in something blue. Harry likes blue,” Ron called after her as she shut the door.

Harry groaned and began fishing in his trunk for some clothes.

“Well, do you like her?” Ron asked him interestedly, as they began changing.

“I dunno, I don't think so, but I'm not sure. She's really helpful in comforting me and is a great person, but I don't know if I have a crush on her.”

Ron winked at Harry, “Trust me, my friend. You do. Ask her out, now.”

Harry shoved Ron good-naturedly, “Ron! I don't even know if I like her and I don't want to jeopardize our friendship!”

Ron sighed, “Okay. Let's play a little game. I ask you an honest question and you answer it honestly. All right?”

Harry shrugged, “Okay.”

“Who knows you better than any other girl in the world?”

“Hermione.”

“Who is the nicest girl you know?”

“Hermione.”

“Who do you most enjoy spending time with besides me?”

“Hermione.”

“Do you enjoy having Hermione hold your hand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you'd like holding Hermione?”

“Yes.”

“Did Hermione sleep in your arms last night?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Hermione is ugly?”

“No.”

“Do you think she is pretty?”

“Yes.”

Ron grinned, “I win. You like her. Game over.”

Harry threw a sock at him, “Whatever, Ron. Come on, what about you? Who do you like?”

Ron shrugged, “I had a crush on Hermione last year, but I'm pretty much over that now. I dunno who I like now. I'll decide when I get back to school. Let's go downstairs before we get ourselves too excited.”

Harry snorted and strolled out of the room, Ron following him, still smirking.

“Harry, there you are. We've made bacon and eggs. Do you want them scrambled or boiled?” Mrs. Weasley asked when they entered the kitchen.

“Scrambled, please.”

They walked over to the tables where they would eat and quickly greeted Fred and George who were smirking and looking quite content with themselves.

“Is the shop open today?” Harry asked interestedly.

“Yup, but we're staying here,” said George, “and we just received word that Dumbledore himself is coming today to the shop to make a large order of our stuff. We're staying here for the day, though. Lee's going to sell it to him. We're thinking about doing ads in the Daily Prophet and on the Wizard Wireless Network soon.” He stopped and looked shrewdly at Harry, “Could you possibly allow us to use your image endorsing our products?”

Harry winked at them, “Anything for you guys. After all, I was one of your initial investors.”

Fred nodded wisely, “Agreed. So…what's this about you and Hermione sleeping in the same bed last night?”

Harry rounded furiously on Ron, but stopped when he noticed that Ron looked as surprised as him.

George grinned, “We've developed our own little cousin of the Marauder's Map and we've got one for this house, one for Hogwarts that's a less advanced version of the Marauder's Map, and one for Diagon Alley. Beautiful little thing, eh? So, what did you two do last night?”

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly, “we just sort of fell asleep talking. So, you actually made a new Map?”

“Yup,” said Fred, “we're thinking of making copies of our Hogwarts Maps and selling them to a select few Gryffindors at Hogwarts.”

“Cool; like who?”

“Well, we'd give one each to Ronnie and Ginny for free. Then we'd offer a sale to Thomas for rejecting Ginny, sell one to Katie, Angelina, and Alicia for being hot babes, maybe Neville and Hermione too.”

Harry nodded, “That's cool.”

Fred grinned, “Of course, the ones they get won't be as good as yours. It'll only show where the staff and ghosts are, instead of the students as well. We did this because we wanted to protect the Marauders' investment.”

Harry nodded and felt glad that he'd still have the top and most revealing map in the school. Hermione then walked in, wearing a blue jumper and plaid skirt (Ron started sniggering when he saw the jumper). She threw him a look of deep disgust and pulled a plate of bacon towards her.

“Have fun last night?” asked Fred, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No; actually I had a very peaceful night of sleeping,” she replied coolly.

“Where's Ginny?” asked Mrs. Weasley, sitting down beside them.

Hermione shook her head sadly, “She's moping over some letter Dean sent her.”

“Thomas is definitely getting a map,” George said.

He was rewarded with a slap on the arm from his mother.

“GEORGE SAMUEL WEASLEY! How dare you take pleasure in your sister's pain! You can't be so mean-spirited----”

“Look, mother, we understand that Ginny thinks this is the worst thing in the world. But with everyone else around her risking their necks and worrying about death and stuff, we just can't let her skate on this stuff.”

She looked slightly mollified by their concern for Harry and the members of the Order of the Phoenix, but was still about to continue shouting when four barn owls swooped into the kitchen. They circled the table, dropped their respective letters, and flew out.

“Oh, it's your Hogwarts letters,” said Mrs. Weasley.

“They'll have their O.W.L. results,” Fred said.

Ron's eyes widened, “Can we look at this upstairs? Privately?”

Mrs. Weasley nodded lovingly to her son, “Yes, Ron. But you'll still have to tell me how you did. Besides, you are a prefect. I'm sure you did well.”

Ron mouthed soundlessly, but quickly followed Harry and Hermione up to Ron and Harry's room. George meanwhile dropped Ginny's supplies letter off in her room and then Apparated with Fred to their room.

“Well, Hermione, you open yours first,” said Harry weakly.

She ripped open her letter eagerly and quickly read it and was grinning from ear to ear when it was done.

“Here,” she said, thrusting it towards them.

O.W.L. Results for Miss Hermione Emma Granger

Age: 15

House: Gryffindor

Potions Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 1)

Potions Practical: Outstanding (Total: 2)

Transfiguration Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 3)

Transfiguration Practical: Outstanding (Total: 4)

Charms Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 5)

Charms Practical: Outstanding (Total: 6)

Defense Against the Dark Arts Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 7)

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding (Total: 8)

History of Magic: Outstanding (Total: 9)

Arithmancy: Outstanding (Total: 10)

Ancient Runes: Oustanding (Total: 11)

Care of Magical Creatures Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 12)

Care of Magical Creatures Practical: Outstanding (Total: 13)

Astronomy Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 14)

Astronomy Practical: Exceeds Expectations (Total: 15)

Herbology Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 16)

Herbology Practical: Outstanding (Total: 17)

Dear Miss Granger,

You have received an amazing seventeen out of seventeen O.W.L.s. Not only were you the highest scoring student this year, your score of 16 Outstandings and 1 Exceeds Expectations was the highest for any student in Hogwarts history, except for Professor Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle (who each scored 24 Outstandings---of course they took all twelve subjects.) Well done and keep up the good work! I'm sure we'll hear your name some day as the Mistress of Magic!

With all due respect (quite considerable in this case),

Griselda Marchbanks

“Goodness, Hermione,” said Harry, “only Dumbledore and Voldemort beat your scores. You're amazing.”

Hermione was practically bouncing up and down, “Thanks, Harry!” She seized him in a bear hug and whispered, “Thanks for teaching me all that stuff in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I would never have gotten Outstanding in both if it weren't for you!”

“Don't mention it,” Harry said, his voice muffled by her hair, “Mistress of Magic, eh?”

Hermione suddenly looked deep in thought, “You know, I hadn't thought about that. If I was Mistress of Magic, I could definitely try and improve elf, giant, and werewolf relations. Not to mention end corruption…”

Harry grinned, “Yeah, I can just see it. Headline of the Daily Prophet: `Mistress of Magic Hermione Granger passes new law that forces House-Elves to be paid in some shape or form.'”

“Well, Ron, go on,” said Hermione, breaking away rather slowly from Harry.

Ron opened it and read his quickly. Without a word he thrust it towards Harry and Hermione. They leaned together and began to read:

O.W.L. Results for Mister Ronald Arthur Weasley

Age: 15

House: Gryffindor

Potions Theoretical: Poor (Total: 0)

Potions Practical: Poor (Total: 0)

Transfiguration Theoretical: Exceeds Expectations (Total: 1)

Transfiguration Practical: Acceptable (Total: 2)

Charms Theoretical: Acceptable (Total: 3)

Charms Practical: Acceptable (Total: 4)

Defense Against the Dark Arts Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 5)

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding (Total: 6)

History of Magic: Dreadful (Total: 6)

Divination: Dreadful (Total: 6)

Care of Magical Creatures Theoretical: Exceeds Expectations (Total: 7)

Care of Magical Creatures Practical: Outstanding (Total: 8)

Astronomy Theoretical: Poor (Total: 8)

Astronomy Practical: Poor (Total: 8)

Herbology Theoretical: Acceptable (Total: 9)

Herbology Practical: Acceptable (Total: 10)

Dear Mister Weasley,

You have received ten out of sixteen O.W.L.s. Although your potions-making skill and divination abilities, not to mention your History of Magic and Astronomy talents are slightly neglected, your skill in Defense Against the Dark Arts and your skill in handling animals should prove to be important in the future. You have a bright future ahead of you.

With all due respect,

Griselda Marchbanks

“Wow! You got more than three times as many as Fred and George,” said Harry, impressed, “and probably a lot more than me.”

Ron grinned, “Yeah, Mum said she was expecting about seven for me. I can't wait to show her. Mind you, if it weren't for D.A., I'd have failed Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Harry smiled as he remembered the D.A. It had been a secret Defense class taught by Harry since Umbridge had been so lacking. Harry hoped that all the fifth-year students in the D.A. had scored Outstanding on their O.W.L.s. It would prove, at least in his mind that he was a good teacher.

“Let's look at yours,” said Hermione impatiently.

Harry opened his and began to read it, with Hermione and Ron situated over each of his shoulders, reading it along with him:

O.W.L. Results for Mister Harry James Potter

Age: 16

House: Gryffindor

Potions Theoretical: Exceeds Expectations (Total: 1)

Potions Practical: Acceptable (Total: 2)

Transfiguration Theoretical: Exceeds Expectations (Total: 3)

Transfiguration Practical: Outstanding (Total: 4)

Charms Theoretical: Exceeds Expectations (Total: 5)

Charms Practical: Oustanding (Total: 6)

Defense Against the Dark Arts Theoretical: Outstanding (Total: 7)

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding (Total: 8)

History of Magic: Dreadful (Total: 8)

Divination: Dreadful (Total: 8)

Care of Magical Creatures Theoretical: Acceptable (Total: 9)

Care of Magical Creatures Practical: Exceeds Expectations (Total: 10)

Astronomy Theoretical: Acceptable (Total: 11)

Astronomy Practical: Poor (Total: 11)

Herbology Theoretical: Exceeds Expectations (Total: 12)

Herbology Practical: Acceptable (Total: 13)

Dear Mister Potter,

You have received an exemplary thirteen out of sixteen O.W.L.s. Your skill in Defense Against the Dark Arts was especially noticeable and Mr. Tofty was quite impressed by your ability to produce a corporeal Patronus. Your good friend Hermione Granger confided to me that you had taught her to do one and I was quite impressed by your teaching ability. You have a bright future ahead of you (as if you didn't know that already!) and I can't wait to see what you do next.

With all due respect,

Griselda Marchbanks

P.S. You shall be pleased to know that your father received the same amount of O.W.L.s as you, although he was stronger in Transfiguration. Your mother received one more O.W.L. and always said that she hoped she'd have a smart kid. I think she was right.

Harry's face, which had fell when he had read his Potions scores, slightly lifted when he read that his father had had the same score as him.

“What's up Harry? You look upset,” said Ron concernedly, “you scored great, you know! Thirteen O.W.L.s! She sounds really impressed with you…”

Hermione was also looking at him concerned so he just sighed and shrugged, “It's just that I want to be an Auror when I grow up and I need to take N.E.W.T. Potions along with some other classes and Snape only takes students who scored Oustanding on their O.W.L.s for his N.E.W.T. classes.”

Ron grimaced, “Oh well. Come on, you don't think they'd actually stop you from being an Auror!”

Hermione nodded, “Besides, Harry, you did wonderful in Potions and everything else. I'm sure even if they don't let you be an Auror, you'll still be a force to be reckoned with.”

Harry cracked a grin, “Yeah. Who cares? Two less years of Snape.”

Ron obviously agreed and they began high-fiving each other, while Hermione just let loose a long, commiserating sigh.

“What?” asked Harry, turning to look at her pretty face.

“You forgot about Occlumency lessons.”

Harry's good mood vanished in the same short span it had arrived, “Damn, you're right. Great, just what I need. More private lessons with that loser and he'll be looking to make up for the fact that I'm not in his normal class.”

Ron nodded miserably, “Poor you. At least I won't have him at all. My poor scores will definitely keep me out of N.E.W.T. Potions. Hmmm…I wonder what N.E.W.T. classes I would take…”

Hermione frowned and bit her lip, beginning to concentrate, “I think you have to score Acceptable or above in most cases, except for Snape's class and McGonagall's too, I guess. And then you get to choose which one of the ones you're eligible for that you want to take. Unless you have less than six possible subjects. Then you have to take all the ones you're eligible for, I think.”

Ron scanned his list, “Check it out! I only have to take five classes----Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures. I'm gonna have loads of free time to play Quidditch!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue impatiently, “Well, I'm eligible for all the ten classes I took last year. I think I'm only going to take eight this year. I want to concentrate fully on the ones that I'm taking and I don't want to waste time on stuff like History of Magic…Let's see: how about Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes? I don't particularly want to keep doing Astronomy, so that sounds good. What do you think?”

“Sounds great, Hermione,” said Harry, “mind you, I'm only eligible for five classes like Ron. Same ones as him too.”

“Cool!” Ron grinned. “At least we'll be together.”

Harry nodded fervently, “Yeah. Hey Hermione, how do we let them know which ones we want?”

Hermione began rummaging through her envelope. She threw aside her supplies list and pointed to a sheet of rolled-up parchment which had a list of the N.E.W.T. classes you were eligible for.

“You just have to check off the ones you want,” said Hermione, quickly beginning to check off her classes.

Harry opened his envelope and found his and quickly checked all the classes since he was eligible for less than six. Ron did the same and they sealed them after about two minutes.

“Hey, Hedwig,” said Harry, scratching his owl affectionately, “d'you mind giving my letter and Hermione's to Professor Dumbledore?”

She clucked her beak as if to say, “What do you think?” Harry grinned and tied his letter to her leg and grabbed Hermione's and put it on Hedwig's other leg. Ron was doing the same thing to his own owl, Pigwidgeon.

“I was just thinking----what about people like Goyle? He can't have gotten any O.W.L.s. Does he even have to take any classes?” Ron asked, looking slightly bemused.

Hermione bit her lower lip again, “You know what? I don't know. It seems like Fred and George still took a certain amount of classes even though they only got three O.W.L.s apiece. Hmmm…we could ask them…”

As if in reply, a loud crack was heard and Fred and George Apparated into the room.

“You called, Your Highness?” asked George, grinning cheekily at Hermione.

She rolled her eyes, “We just had a question. What happens if you don't have any subjects you qualified for? For example, you guys only got three O.W.L.s, so at most you had three classes you were eligible for, most likely one or two. What happened to you guys?”

Fred gave George a dark look, “Well if you have less than six subjects, which happens to about 95% of the Hogwarts population, the school picks the rest you need for six for you. A teacher can request for you, but if that doesn't happen----which it doesn't in most cases, then Dumbledore will decide your classes. For example, we were only eligible for N.E.W.T. Charms, but Dumbledore added Transfiguration----which we had one O.W.L. in, mind you----Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, and Divination. So, how many O.W.L.s did you guys get?”

Hermione beamed, “Seventeen O.W.L.s. Sixteen Outstandings and one Exceeds Expectations.”

“Mind you, that Exceeds Expectations was caused by you being distracted by Hagrid's sacking, remember?” Harry said, smiling at Hermione.

She smiled back eagerly at him, “Yeah, I might have gotten Seventeen Outstandings if it weren't for that foul Umbridge!”

Fred rolled his eyes, “That's still like a school record for anyone besides Dumbledore and You-Know-Who. Unbelievable. What about you, Ronnie? Please don't tell me anything that's going to make Mum revolting!”

“Got ten O.W.L.s but I'm only eligible for five classes,” said Ron worriedly, “I wonder what Dumbledore picks for me. Hopefully the same thing as Harry.”

“Yeah,” agreed Harry, “I got thirteen O.W.L.s, but my two for Snape don't matter because he wants only Outstandings to be in his class. So I'm only eligible for five as well. I hope Dumbledore can force Snape to take me in Potions.”

“POTIONS?!” gasped Ron, Fred, and George at the same time.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Ron, didn't you hear him earlier? He's got to take N.E.W.T. Potions to become an Auror. So, obviously it's best if he takes Potions. I hope you do, Harry! Otherwise, I'll probably be the only Gryffindor.”

Harry smiled benignly at her, while Ron sniggered pointedly in the background and cleared his throat loudly.

“Anyway,” he said, fighting off laughter, “if you go into Potions, I sure hope I don't follow you! No Snape would be great!”

George shrugged morosely, “Alas, dear Harry, I don't think Snape will take you even if Dumbledore tries to force him.”

Harry shrugged, “I hope we don't get Divination, though.”

Ron looked extremely worried but George cut in, “Hey, Ronnie, you better go show your scores to Mum before she has a heart attack.”

The trio nodded and they hurried down the stairs, Harry unconsciously squeezing Hermione's hand.

“Well?!” asked Mrs. Weasley, looking positively terrified.

“Relax, Mum, I got ten O.W.L.s,” said Ron, shoving the letter towards her.

“Oh Ronnie!” she cried and hugged him fiercely. She then began examining the scores; her mouth slowly began to move downward into a frown.

“These aren't amazing scores, Ron, but I suppose they'll work. Five A's, three O's, two E's, four P's, and two D's are okay, I guess,” she didn't look as happy as she did before. Harry supposed this was because of the two D's and four P's.

“What about you, Harry dear?”

“Thirteen; four A's, four O's, five E's, two D's in Divination and History of Magic, and one P.”

Mrs. Weasley gave him a hug too and then raised her eyebrow, “It seems like you and Ron aren't very good at either Divination or History of Magic.”

Ron rolled his eyes, “That's because the teachers suck, the subject sucks, and even having some girls in the class can't keep you awake----it's that boring.”

Harry snorted at Ron's statement, while Hermione and Mrs. Weasley glared at him disapprovingly. Mrs. Weasley then turned to Hermione.

“How many for you, dear?”

Hermione smiled happily, “Seventeen. Sixteen O's and one E.”

Mrs. Weasley gave a low whistle, “Those are really, really good scores. I'm very proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley!” Hermione smiled brightly.

“Don't mention it,” said Mrs. Weasley, “now, Arthur's coming back for lunch along with a few other members of the Order, so why don't you clear up the tables?”

No sooner had they finished clearing up the tables had the first person arrived. It was none other than Mundungus Fletcher, the crook who gave Dumbledore the lowdown on the underground of the wizard world.

“Hey Dung!” Fred and George greeted cheerily. Mundungus was definitely their favorite member of the Order.

Mundungus simply nodded, looking half-drunk and the smell of stale tobacco still ever-present in the air around him.

“Tonks!” yelled Hermione and she ran forward to give Nymphadora Tonks, another member of the Order a hug.

“What's up Hermione? How'd you do on your O.W.L.s?”

“Sixteen O's and one E.”

Tonks' eyes grew huge and her voice was hoarse, “Are you serious?”

Hermione nodded cheerfully, but Tonks was cut off by the arrival of Mr. Weasley who was hugged by all his children and kissed by his wife. Not only that, a thousand questions seemed to pepper his very existence.

“Where were you, Dad?”

“What's so important only seven guys know about it?”

“Please tell us, Dad!”

“Am I not your favorite son?”

“Hey, I am!”

“No, I am!”

“QUIET!” yelled Mr. Weasley, still smiling however, “Children, calm down. I'm not answering any of your questions except the one about Ron being my favorite son. Ron, all my sons are my favorites except for Percy.”

Mr. Weasley's face took an ugly, contorted look when he mentioned Percy, and Harry quickly changed the subject.

“How are things at the Ministry?”

Mr. Weasley sighed and slowly wiped his glasses clean, “Horrible. Fudge is running around blaming everyone else for his oversight. The Board of Directors is threatening to throw Fudge out. Every division's normal work has temporarily been canceled and everything is focused to rooting You-Know-Who and his Death-Eaters out. It's highly disorganized though and I doubt anything useful will come from the Ministry.

“I have to agree,” a deep voice intoned.

They turned around and were faced with the bald, black head of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry had tremendous respect for Kingsley as he was one of the most important Aurors.

“Arthur is completely correct; the Ministry is in complete uproar. I believe that in a few weeks, we might have a new Minister of Magic. As for me, I'm voting for Arthur.”

Mr. Weasley look shocked, “What are you talking about Kingsley?”

Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled, “Come off it, Arthur. When I told the Aurors how you had stuck by Dumbledore's side the whole time and were Harry's really good friend, all of them wanted to vote for you. Trust me, when word gets around, you're gonna have a lot of votes.”

“Maybe you'll become Minister of Magic,” said Ron dreamily, “then we'll have everything we could ever want.”

Harry simply sighed and remarked, “There are some important things that even money can't buy.”

But Ron didn't seem to have heard him. The rest of the day he had been making plans for what he was going to buy first. Harry and Hermione let him ramble as they were working on their own summer homework.

Finally after they finished dinner, the two boys washed up and headed to their room.

“Hermione not coming here tonight?” asked Ron, winking innocently (if winking could ever be considered innocent.)

Harry threw a sock at him.

“Come off it, Ron, we just fell asleep. Who cares anyway?” said Harry, lying down.

Ron lay down on his bed and they sat in silence for some time and then Harry remarked, “So when did you stop liking Hermione? It was pretty obvious you did last year.”

Harry saw Ron shrug under his covers, “I dunno…perhaps when I was trying to hit her when you were with the Dursleys this summer. I'd say something like, `So, Hermione, now that we're alone…' and she'd say, `Yeah, I wish Harry was here.' And she'd go on for about twenty minutes about you. Then I realized that, no offense, man, but I don't want to have a romantic relationship with someone who talks about my best friend twenty-four hours a day.”

“No offense taken,” said Harry grinning, “You deserve someone really good.”

Ron shrugged again, “Like I'm ever going to get someone good.”

Harry scrunched up his eyeballs as he started trying to think of girls that would fit Ron, “Hmm…you said Parvati was taken by Dean, right? Yeah, that's right, how about Lavender?”

“Seamus.”

“Bloody bad for you, she's really pretty. Oh well…how about Luna?” Harry said jokingly.

Ron started cracking up, “Good one Harry! Loony Lovegood…honestly. What boy in his right mind would go with her?”

“Dunno…” said Harry, chuckling in remembrance of the crazy girl. Harry then stopped laughing when he remembered that Luna had been quite brave in the Department of Mysteries and also seemed to have some information about the veil separating the living and dead. Harry really hoped that one day she would explain it to him.

“So when are you going to ask her out?”

“Who?”

“Don't be an idiot, Harry!” Ron yelled. “Hermione, of course!”

Harry shrugged, “Come on, Ron, I don't even know whether I have feelings for her or not.”

Ron rolled his eyes, “Of course you do. You love her and you know it.”

Ron fell silent and slowly began lightly snoring, but Harry remained awake for quite some time. The primary thought in his head was love. Harry knew that he hadn't experienced real love much in his life. Sure his parents had probably loved him, but he couldn't remember it. Mrs. Weasley loved him, but it was as a sort of orphan son and Harry wasn't sure whether he could call that real love. He supposed he had loved Sirius, but it was still an odd thing to say that about another man. But what were his feelings for Hermione? Did he love her? He knew that, other than Ron, there was no other person that he liked more than Hermione. She was the nicest person he knew (along with Ron, of course) and the most important thing as far as Harry was concerned was that she liked him as a friend for just being himself, not some legendary savior of the world. To Hermione and Ron, he was just Harry. Not to mention she was extremely pretty.

Harry soon fell asleep, his thoughts still in turmoil.

Harry felt himself being shaken awake, but he ignored it and turned over on his side.

“Come on, Harry, Hermione wants to meet you in the showers,” Ron's voice said.

Harry shot up.

“What did you say?”

Ron started laughing, “I had to say something to get you out of bed. Come on lover boy, it's time for breakfast.”

Grumbling about being surprised at Ron's joke and that he really didn't want to meet Hermione in the showers, Harry pulled on his clothes.

They finally went downstairs, with repeated playful shoving coming from each of the two boys.

“Hold on a second,” said Ron and he turned and knocked on Ginny's door.

“What?” called a voice.

“Yo Ginny, it's breakfast time. Stop moping over Dean, you'll find some other boy to suit your cravings when school starts.”

Ginny joined them outside and Harry was very taken aback when she winked coyly at him and smiled. Ron hadn't noticed and was whistling cheerily as they walked along. Harry made a note to tell Ron and Hermione about this later.

After a decent breakfast of oatmeal, Harry quickly pulled Ron and Hermione aside and they went up to their rooms.

“What's up?” asked Ron, flopping onto one of the beds as if he hadn't already had ten hours of sleep.

“I dunno…” said Harry, “okay, you know when we got Ginny from her room for breakfast?”

“Yeah,” said Ron lazily.

Harry didn't notice Hermione's face had become slightly frosty and her eyes were ice cold.

“What did she do?” asked Hermione, in a would-be casual voice.

“She winked at me and smiled,” said Harry, “and it wasn't a friendly wink. To me, it looked like a `Come here and I'll show you some fun,' look.”

Hermione's eyes became even colder, if that was possible. Ron looked mildly interested.

“I dunno…I've been trying to push you and Ginny together for two years, but since I know who you like and I thoroughly support you in this decision, I'm not going to do that anymore,” said Ron, winking at Harry when he said the bit about knowing who Harry liked.

“Really? Who does Harry like?” said Hermione in a rather high-pitched voice.

“Are you all right, Hermione?” asked Harry concernedly, “Your voice seems rather high. Do you need some water?”

“I'm fine,” she snapped, “so who do you like, Harry?”

Ron smirked, “Can't tell you. Guy-to-guy information. Although I daresay it's rather obvious.”

Hermione looked vaguely disgruntled, “Well I'm going to go and help your Mum prepare for Dumbledore coming tonight.”

“He's coming?” asked Ron confusedly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Yes, your mum said so this morning. Bye!”

She walked out of the room and Harry absent-mindedly began to stare almost longingly after her.

“Earth to Harry,” said Ron, grinning.

“What?”

“Did you see Hermione's face when you mentioned what Ginny did?”

Harry gave Ron a questioning look, “What did she look like?”

Ron started laughing, “She looked like the first thing she wanted to do was march over to Ginny's room and hex my sister into next week. After that she would come and snog you senseless.”

Harry laughed, “Get real, Ron.”

“What is real?” Ron asked rhetorically, “What your body interprets as right and orderly or what is actually happening?”

Harry was surprised to say the least at Ron becoming philosophical, but Ron just smirked and started laughing.

“Got that from Charlie. Felt like pretending to be smart,” he said, “anyway, my best bet is Hermione's yelling Ginny's brains out right now in her room. Why don't we go and eavesdrop?”

Harry was about to point out that this was extremely rude, but a strange, powerful curiosity rose up in what they might be saying rose up in him and he pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk as an answer to Ron's question.

Ron and Harry slipped under it and headed outside of Ginny's room where they were loud noises emanating from the room. They crept closer and pressed their ears against the door, listening hard.

“SO WHAT IF I WANT HIM?! I LOVE HIM!” Ginny's voice yelled.

“I'M NOT GOING TO LET YOU DO THAT TO MY BEST FRIEND---YOU DON'T LOVE HIM---YOU LOVE `THE BOY WHO LIVED,' NOT THE REAL HIM! RON AND I KNOW HIM BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE SO DON'T GIVE ME THIS `I KNOW HIM BETTER THAN YOU AND I LOVE HIM' JUNK----YOU BARELY KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HIM----YOU JUST WANT HIM BECAUSE YOU WANT TO BRAG TO EVERYONE THAT YOU SHAGGED THE BOY WHO LIVED----”

There was a loud, cracking sound as if it sounded like someone had just been slapped. They heard a muffled cry from Ginny. Ron and Harry looked at each other, slightly scared.

“THAT WAS FOR TRYING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HARRY----YOU DESPICABLE ANIMAL----STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND RON AND ME----”

“SHUT UP HERMIONE! YOU LITTLE---- (Ginny informed Hermione that it was her opinion that Hermione's parents had not been married when they had had her) ----YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS THAT I CAN GET BOYS AND YOU CAN'T! YOU'RE A GODDAMN PRUDE! OF COURSE WHO WOULD WANT YOU? YOU HAVE THE UGLIEST, BUSHIEST HAIR ON THE PLANET AND THOSE BORING BROWN EYES----NO FIGURE AT ALL AND I DARESAY A LACK OF CURVES THAT MOST MEN FIND THE MOST DESIRABLE THING ABOUT WOMEN!”

Harry had seized the door in anger at what Ginny had just said, but Ron quickly held him back, whispering that Hermione would not like it if she knew they were eavesdropping. Listening with rage, while wishing he could tell Hermione that she had lovely hair and beautiful eyes, Harry tried to keep himself from kicking Ron out of the way and bursting into the room.

“Harry doesn't think I'm ugly,” Hermione said in a wobbly voice and it broke Harry's heart to hear her like that.

They could hear the sneer in Ginny's voice as she said, “Yeah, sure. He was just trying to make you feel better, you troll. Harry would never want an ugly thing like you. Now, go away. Your stink is leaving a foul stench in the air.”

Ron and Harry quickly ran back up the stairs to their room and threw the Invisibility Cloak in Harry's trunk. They began to pretend that they were having a normal conversation and that they hadn't left the room at all.

“Yeah, Bulgaria's gonna be good next year,” Ron said, attempting to wink at Harry but failing miserably as they were both terribly depressed over what they had heard.

Hermione came into the room, wiping tears from her eyes.

Ron muttered something about finding his mother and quickly disappeared. Harry watched him rush out of the room and slowly turned back to Hermione's tear-stained face.

“He's leaving because I'm so ugly, right?” asked Hermione weakly.

Harry walked over to her and hugged her closely, his heart breaking in two as he contemplated how sad she was.

“No, Hermione, he wasn't. He told me that he wanted to get something from his mum about fifteen seconds before he left,” Harry lied. He was quite sure that Ron had left to go and yell at his sister. Harry also had a sneaking suspicion that Ron was trying to give Hermione and him some alone time.

Hermione pulled away from Harry's hug and looked at him sadly.

“Why am I so ugly?” she asked.

Harry pulled her against him again, but instead of hugging her, he just held her close to him, looking into her eyes.

“Hermione, Ron and I heard what Ginny said to you,” Harry said and quickly silenced Hermione as she began crying again. “And I just want you to know that it's completely not true. I do not think you're ugly and I didn't just say that to make you feel any better. I said it because it's true. And I think your bushy hair is cute and you have the most wonderful eyes on the planet. You are very attractive and amazing young woman,” Harry said, blushing slightly at what he had said.

Hermione gave him a smile, a true smile.

“Thanks, Harry,” she whispered, “I needed that.”

“No problem,” said Harry, hugging her again and then he impulsively kissed her cheek.

“I don't do that to unattractive girls,” he then winked at her, to let her know that he was joking (sort of.)

Smirking, he walked out of the room to find Ron, leaving Hermione to half-laugh, half-sob with happiness at what Harry had said to her.

Harry quickly headed to Ginny's room, mulling over what he had said. He had just called Hermione a very attractive and amazing young woman. Not to mention, he had said her bushy hair was cute and that she had the most wonderful eyes on the planet. If that wasn't flirting, Harry didn't know what was. Why on earth was he flirting with Hermione? And why was he so comfortable around her when he was? It had never been like that with Cho.

He reached the door and heard Ron yelling.

“HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT TO HERMIONE! If you haven't noticed, she's my best friend besides Harry----and I swear, you'll never get Harry if it's the last thing I do!”

He heard Ginny's voice sneer, “Whatever, Ron. Why don't you just go and screw Hermione like you obviously want to?”

Harry entered the room just as Ron slapped her. Ginny fell to the ground, reeling with shock.

“SHUT UP GINNY! YOU'RE SO IMMATURE----ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS SHAGGING! HAS IT EVER OCCURRED TO YOU THAT MAYBE I CAN BE FRIENDS WITH A GIRL WITHOUT NEEDING TO BE INTIMATE WITH HER! YOU DISGUST ME!”

Ron kicked her prone form and slowly stepped back as if to give Harry his turn. Harry glared down at Ginny with cold fury edging his voice.

“Ginny,” he said so quietly that it seemed to scare Ginny even more than Ron's yelling had, “don't ever, ever insult Hermione or make her feel that bad again. If you do, I will personally hurt you. Hermione and Ron are the most important people on the planet to me right now and if you want to remain on speaking terms with me or living terms for that matter, I suggest you never insult Hermione again.”

Ginny was too stunned to say anything. She simply watched as her brother and her idealistic boyfriend walked out the door.

Harry clapped Ron on the back, “Took care of her didn't we?”

Ron still looked angry, “I can't believe how mean she can be. Well anyway, did you comfort Hermione?”

Harry's face became worried, “Yeah, I think so. D'you think I should go back up there?”

Ron winked at him, “Go ahead. I'm gonna go head over to Fred and George's shop quickly. I want to think of a good revenge for Ginny.”

Harry grinned, “OK.”

Harry watched as Ron headed into the sitting room and then he quickly made his way up to the bedroom.

“All right, Hermione?”

He glanced over to his bed where she was lying peacefully, staring up at the wall, smiling broadly.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Good,” said Harry, sitting on the edge of the bed, “so d'you want to do something?”

“Er…d'you want to knit some elf hats and socks with me?” asked Hermione, looking very apprehensive.

“Of course,” said Harry, “we have to do it without magic though, right?”

“Yes,” said Hermione, “but I can still teach you.”

Hermione began to teach him, but Harry was very, very bad.

“Man, this is hard!” Harry said as his needle flew out of his hands from his clumsiness.

Hermione laughed.

“I really don't give Mrs. Weasley enough credit for knitting those sweaters,” Harry said, grinning.

Laughing, the pair kept working hard, even though Harry's hats looked more like woolly bladders and his socks kind of like a rather thin wand. Hermione kept looking over and snorting at him, but Harry did not find this annoying. It was rather cute in its own way.

Around five o'clock, Harry finally called it quits and lay down on his bed.

“I'm really tired,” he murmured to Hermione.

“Mmmm…” she said, sitting at the edge of Harry's bed, “Me too.”

Hermione gave a long yawn and stretched luxuriously. Harry blushed slightly as he caught sight of a little bit of her stomach.

“Can I lie down?” asked Hermione, looking positively terrified at what he might say.

“Sure,” he said, and motioned for her to join him.

She sighed happily and lay down next to him, her hand on his arm. They fell asleep quickly.

Harry struggled awake nearly two hours later. Something was cuddled up against him. What was it? He turned and looked. Hermione was lying next to him, her arm slung about his stomach. He smiled. She was really pretty.

Harry reached out his hand and tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear, sighing at how cute she looked and for just a couple of moments, Harry forgot all his troubles with Voldemort.

“Mmmm…?” Hermione said, her eyes slowly opening.

“Wake up, Hermione,” said Harry, “it's dinnertime, I believe.”

“All right,” she said and rose up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Much. I'm sorry if I intruded upon you----”

“You did nothing of the sort,” said Harry firmly, “come on, let's go down.”

The two walked downstairs to the kitchens, where Fred, George, and Ron were strangely absent. Mr. Weasley was already sitting at the table, along with Tonks, Lupin, Ginny (Hermione glared at her) and Kingsley. Mrs. Weasley was still cooking their dinner in a giant pot.

“Ah, there you are, Harry,” said Kingsley, motioning for Harry to sit down.

“Hi, Mr. Shacklebolt,” said Harry, nervously sitting down. Hermione sat down next to him, her eyes still glaring at Ginny who was sitting opposite Tonks.

“Mr. Shacklebolt? Call me Kingsley,” he said, grinning, “anyway, just so you and your friends know, I would like to announce to everyone here that I've taken the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.”

Tonks and Lupin immediately began slapping him on the back, congratulating him, Mr. Weasley offered him a toast, and Mrs. Weasley yelled out from the kitchens that Kingsley to keep an eye on her son and daughter. Harry simply grinned. Now he could learn from one of his idols. And he wouldn't have to worry about his Defense teacher hating him, like last year. Hermione was also smiling and Harry suddenly realized she was holding his hand. He didn't mention it to her, as he was thoroughly enjoying her warmth.

The door suddenly burst open and Ron, Fred, and George hurried into the kitchens looking extremely harried. They quickly sat down, as inconspicuously as they could. Harry looked at Ron, his eyebrows raised. Ron simply grinned.

“Guess what?” said Hermione, “Kingsley's going to be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!”

Ron smiled happily and Fred and George groaned.

“Why couldn't you have been there last year instead of that hag?”

Kingsley laughed a deep, throaty laugh, “I'm sorry, but it was important for me to be at the Ministry last year. With Tonks becoming one of the more important Aurors and the lack of a need for spies since the Ministry already knows that You-Know-Who's back, Dumbledore asked me to take the job and I decided that I would. Another thing, you, Hermione, and Ron are to have private lessons with me this year. What I will be teaching you will remain secret for now, but I stress upon you the importance of keeping it secret during the school year. All right?”

Hermione looked very interested and excited at the thought of private lessons, and Harry's own face echoed the same feelings. Whatever Kingsley taught him, he was sure that it would be helpful for him to become an Auror. Ron was smirking at Ginny, who had not been invited for those private lessons.

“What time and what days will we have them?” asked Hermione.

“Just twice a week. Every Monday and Friday in thirty-minute intervals. You will not be learning together, but what you learn will pretty much be the same. Ron you will come to my office at six-thirty, Hermione at seven, and Harry at seven-thirty. Harry, the Headmaster wishes that you have hour-long lessons. If it is okay with you,” said Kingsley, looking at Harry.

“Of course,” said Harry, suddenly realizing all the evening lessons he was going to be having. There was Occlumency with Snape and these two lessons with Kingsley. That would take up three nights a week. Then there was Quidditch practice another night. Of course, if he continued the D.A. which he planned on doing, he would have five nights a week taken up.

Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen and put the steaming cauldron of stew on the table and everyone immediately began to help themselves.

“Isn't Dumbledore coming tonight?” asked Harry, drinking his butterbeer luxuriously.

“That's right, so be on your best behavior.”

As if hearing them, Albus Dumbledore entered the kitchen, his robes trailing behind him. Everyone looked up at him, respect etched in their faces.

“Professor,” said Mrs. Weasley; he would always be her Headmaster, no matter how long it had been since she attended Hogwarts, “have a seat.”

He sat down across from Harry and next to Ron, who looked slightly amazed to be sitting so close to the greatest sorcerer on the Earth.

“I trust Kingsley has told you about his new job----”

“Yes,” said Ron, bobbing his head up and down.

“And you three's private lessons?”

Hermione nodded and Harry absently began rubbing her hand.

Dumbledore leaned across the table, “I must impress upon you the secrecy of these lessons. No one is to know of what he teaches you. I picked you three because you are definitely three of the most amazing students I've had in this school (Ron's chest puffed up with pride at this and Hermione was smiling broadly) and this class is going to be very important. I will occasionally be helping Kingsley out, but this is mainly going to be his class.”

The three nodded, Hermione shooting triumphant glances at Ginny who was staring fixedly at her food.

“Now, let me have some of this excellent stew,” said Dumbledore, helping himself to a large portion of the stew.

Dinner was a rather quiet affair, but in a comfortable sort of way. Everyone (except for Ginny, who was occasionally glaring at Hermione) was enjoying each other's company and Harry was still rubbing Hermione's hand, although he had long forgotten why.

Harry was helping himself to a large piece of lemon meringue pie when an owl flew through the window and landed on Dumbledore's arm.

“Ah, the Evening Prophet.”

“What's it say?” Harry said, leaning over interestedly. In the process, he got a bit of custard on his shirt, which Hermione quickly wiped off.

Dumbledore's expression suddenly grew dark.

“I'm sorry, Molly, but I must leave. Kingsley, come with me.”

Kingsley and Dumbledore quickly headed out of the kitchens, presumably to Apparate.

Harry grabbed the copy of the newspaper.

He began to read aloud, “`First attack of the Second War! You-Know Who attacks family near Wimbledon. Widespread panic as this is rumored to be the first in a long string of attacks.'”

Everyone stared at each, fear evident on their faces.

3. The First Attacks

Chapter Three---The First Attacks

Mr. Weasley sighed and stood up, “Tonks and I must get to the Ministry. The rest of you stay here. Molly, stay alert.”

The two left hurriedly, Mr. Weasley shoving a last bit of the pie into his mouth.

Mrs. Weasley glanced around as if to count if everyone was here, “Okay, children, once you finish your meals, go upstairs and sleep. I don’t want you worrying either. This won’t happen to us. We are Unplottable and it’s impossible to get here unless Dumbledore invites them in.”

The children nodded, still looking extremely apprehensive. Harry finished his pie hurriedly and motioned for Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George to follow him into his room. Sulking, Ginny went into her own room alone.

“I can’t believe it,” said Ron, when they entered his and Harry’s room.

“I can,” said Harry grimly, “there’s no reason for Voldemort to sit quiet anymore. The Ministry’s acknowledged his return and he failed in getting the Prophecy. What else is there to wait for?”

The four shrugged and George said, “This is going to be really bad for business. Nobody will step out of their houses anymore.”

“It’s just as dangerous inside their houses as out,” Hermione pointed out.

Fred just shook his head, “The reasonable ones will think that. Most of the others will just panic and stay home even though that’s probably more dangerous.”

“Well,” said George, “we’re off to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

They Disapparated and the trio was left staring at each other.

“At least we’re safe,” said Ron.

“I just hope no one we know dies,” said Harry worriedly.

Hermione nodded and sat closer to Harry.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Ron suggested.

“Yeah,” said Harry, “can you believe that we’re gonna have these private lessons with Kingsley?”

“Yeah, they sound really cool, whatever they are,” said Ron, “and Dumbledore called us ‘three of the most amazing students’ he’s ever had. Bet Mum was proud of that.”

Harry nodded and then said, “Along with D.A., I’m going to have only two nights free each week.”

Hermione grimaced, “Yeah, and we’re probably going to have a lot of homework this year.”

“Good thing I only have to take six classes this year,” said Harry.

“Damn! We should’ve asked Dumbledore what our other class was going to be,” said Ron, snapping his fingers together almost angrily.

Harry nodded fervently.

“Anyway, I’m gonna sleep. See you guys tomorrow,” Ron said, flopping onto his bed and he began snoring almost immediately.

“Are you all right, Harry?” asked Hermione.

Harry had suddenly grown silent and was staring out into the distance. Pain was etched on his face and he looked agonizingly sad.

“Just thinking about Sirius,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I know exactly how you feel.”

Something flared inside Harry and suddenly he was on his feet.

“Do you, Hermione? Do you? You’ve never someone as close as a father die, have you? Have you? Sirius was like a father to me! SO WHY DON’T YOU SHUT YOUR ARROGANT LITTLE MOUTH?!”

Hermione stared calmly up at him, “Actually I have. My mother was diagnosed with brain cancer in February and she died the first week of July. So I think I do know how you feel.”

She was staring up at him, unseen tears clinging to her eyelids. Harry’s heart broke rather nastily and he felt horrible. He quickly sat down and put his arms around her.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t know----”

“It’s quite all right,” said Hermione, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Hermione, do you want to talk about it? You can just talk. I’ll listen.”

Hermione nodded, “Please?”

“Of course.”

She sighed and then she began, the tears beginning to flow out of her.

“Okay, I knew my mother had been sick for a pretty long time and my father and I couldn’t really figure out what was going on. Finally in February, my dad took my mum in to see an important physician in London, after getting nothing from five other doctors, and that doctor diagnosed her with a severe case of brain cancer. We all knew that meant she probably had less than six months to live. I wanted to finish the rest of the school year for my schooling sake and for your sake. My parents agreed, and when school finally got out she came to meet me, I don’t know if you really saw her, but she was pretty weak and was wearing a hat to cover her baldness from chemotherapy. The plan was that I would head back to our house for some time before heading over here,” Hermione said, the tears really starting to come out now. Harry silently waited for her to continue.

“I was only going to be able to be there for a couple weeks before I headed back here. Well, during the first week, she passed away. The next week, we had her funeral, and then I came here.”

Harry hugged her into him, burying his head into her waterfall of brown curls.

“Hermione, I’m so sorry,” said Harry, smelling the wonderful rose smell of her hair, “so, all this time, you never told Ron and me…your mother was fatally sick and you still aced your O.W.L.s and you still did amazing in the Department of Mysteries. I’ve said it before, but you really are an amazing woman.”

“Thanks, Harry,” said Hermione weakly wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck.

“D’you want to stay tonight?” said Harry, rubbing her back slowly and comfortingly.

“Yes.”

Harry lay down and Hermione joined him a second later. She wrapped her arms around Harry and began to cry again, this time softly. Harry put his arm around Hermione and closed his eyes. He knew this was a night where Hermione just needed some support. His eyes began to close…

Harry was back in the Room of Requirement. What am I doing here? It’s summer! his brain screamed. Then he saw her.

It was Cho Chang and she was wearing deep midnight-blue robes and looked very attractive. She began shouting that she wanted Harry’s Firebolt. Harry began to feel angry (he shouted back, “Why on earth should I give you my Firebolt?!”) and he began to walk to the door.

“Harry?” called out the voice from behind him.

He turned around and realized that Cho Chang was no longer standing behind him. She had been replaced by Hermione, who was wearing her Yule Ball robes of one and a half years prior. She also looked very pretty. She then asked Harry, “Will you ever clean your glasses?” Harry shrugged confusedly and then asked her what she meant.

“HARRY!”

“There’s no reason to yell. I’m right next to you,” he murmured.

“COME ON! WAKE UP!”

Harry’s mind struggled to wake up from the throes of the dream he had been having and he stared up at the face of Ron who was looking rather amusedly at him. When he tried to move his arm, he realized why. Hermione was still in his bed for the second night in three nights.

“Having fun?” Ron asked, in a mock serious tone.

Harry shook his head and whispered, “Ron, I’ll explain later. All right?”

Ron understood that there was probably a serious reason why Hermione was sleeping in Harry’s bed. He stood up and went outside, presumably to go down for breakfast.

Harry moved over and shook Hermione gently.

“Hermione,” he whispered, “wake up.”

Her eyes slowly opened and she looked up at him, her face looking angelic even as she rose from her deep slumber. Harry grinned at her and tucked that same tendril of hair behind her ear again. She blushed and when Harry saw her face redden, he felt his face do the same.

“Er----do you want to go to your room and change?” Harry asked.

“Sure,” she said.

Harry was just about to close the door after her when she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Harry…” she said.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for last night. You were really wonderful,” she said.

“No problem.”

She headed off to her room, leaving Harry to contemplate her kiss on his cheek. After he got dressed, he quickly ran downstairs, finding Mrs. Weasley and Sturgis Podmore in deep conversation.

Ron was already seated and was eating his food with great gusto. Fred and George were nowhere to be seen; perhaps they had already headed to work. Harry sat down next to Ginny, across from Ron. Ginny gave him a rather seductive wink, but Harry ignored it.

“What are we doing today?” asked Harry, “Not to mention, were there any more attacks?”

“No, there weren’t, Potter,” came a cold, sneering voice.

He turned around and was face-to-face with the teacher he loathed most except perhaps Umbridge.

“Professor,” Harry spat derisively.

Hermione came into the room and stopped suddenly when she saw Professor Snape, leaning over Harry, his foul eyes glinting. She quickly sat down beside Harry and glared up at Snape with him.

“Much as I would like to chit-chat with you, Potter,” said Snape, his eyes making it very clear what he would like to do to Harry, “we have a meeting to hold. So I suggest your hurry up with your breakfast, so we important wizards can make decisions.”

Harry didn’t feel like picking a fight with Snape at ten o’clock in the morning so he simply nodded and turned back to his food. Snape looked slightly disappointed and turned his attention back to the arriving members of the Order of the Phoenix. A couple of them, including Dedalus Diggle and Emmeline Vance, said hello to Harry, but the rest seemed grim and serious and didn’t seem to be able to talk. Harry couldn’t blame them. After all, the Second War had really officially begun yesterday.

“Ron,” said Mrs. Weasley hurriedly as they finished their meals, “today Fred and George are going to take you lot to Diagon Alley. Be extremely careful and stick close to Fred and George. Much as they are irresponsible, they can still Apparate and Disapparate. You don’t need to purchase your supplies yet so just enjoy the day.”

“Yes, Mum,” said Ron and motioned for Ginny, Harry, and Hermione to follow him.

“Is everyone ready?” he asked.

Everyone nodded and Harry glanced sideways at Hermione. For some reason, he couldn’t help but notice what she was wearing lately. It was still pretty much as conservative as ever, but Harry seemed to be noticing more and more. Today she had on a white shirt and a navy-blue skirt.

Ron grabbed some Floo Powder and threw it into the fire.

“Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes, Diagon Alley!” he shouted.

Ron disappeared and Harry quickly grabbed some powder and jumped into the fire himself. He felt himself sliding…sliding…sliding until he finally stopped in a brightly lit room. He brushed the soot off himself, glancing around. Ron was leaning against the wall, waiting for the two girls.

“I hope they aren’t fighting,” Ron said worriedly.

His fears were assuaged when Hermione came tumbling out of the fireplace next. Harry helped her to her feet and when Ginny finally got out of the fireplace, the foursome headed out of the store to get some money out of Gringotts.

Harry took out a couple bagfuls for the entire term and to maybe purchase some jokes. He felt slightly guilty when Ron pulled out a few Galleons out of the Weasleys’ near-empty vault. Quickly, they went back to Fred and George’s shop.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off the surrounding jokes and various items placed on the shelves around the stores. Several of them he had seen at Hogwarts, but some of them looked really new and he couldn’t wait to test some of them out.

“Ah, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny,” said George pompously, “do have a look around. We’re waiting some customers’ arrivals.”

Harry was examining a dragon firework that he had seen used last year when Katie Bell, the only seventh year player remaining on the Gryffindor Quidditch team strolled in. After getting a quick kiss from Fred, she spotted Harry and hurried over.

“D’you know whether your ban’s being lifted or not?”

Harry grinned, “Yeah. It’s been lifted.”

She gave Harry an appraising look, “I know we won last year, but we need you back in top form this year. McGonagall says that I’m probably going to be Captain and now that you’ve got that idiotic ban lifted, we might become the most unstoppable team at Hogwarts again.”

Harry’s brow furrowed, “Yeah, but we’re going to need two Chasers this year, right? And two Beaters if we can manage it? Because Sloper and Kirke are pretty bad.”

Katie sighed, “Yeah. I know Ginny wants to be one of the Chasers and she’s good on a broom, but I don’t know who else we can get. That’s why we need you back.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, “I hope we get some good ones. Take care of yourself.”

“Okay. Bye!”

Ron came over and stared at the retreating figure of Katie Bell, “She’s pretty good-looking, you know.”

Harry snorted, “Ron, she’s going out with Fred.”

Ron shrugged and nodded, “Yeah, I know. But still there’s nothing wrong with looking at her.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to the fireworks. After deciding that since they were slightly too expensive for probably not being used at all. He then began perusing the same section that Hermione was looking through.

“What are you looking for? Brainy jokes?” Harry asked. His tone was somewhat snide, although he had no idea why.

Hermione looked at him, somewhat hurt, “You know, after five years, one would think that you would know that I’m more than just books.”

Harry instantly regretted his snide comments, “I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re just brains and books.”

“It’s quite all right,” she said in a dignified voice.

Harry hugged her and whispered in her ear, “You’re one of the bravest, friendliest people I know. And I’m sorry if I keep acting like a prat.”

She just nodded.

KA-POW!

Harry felt the ground shake as a loud explosion was heard from far away. He quickly pulled Hermione to the ground next to him and put his arm protectively around her. It sounded like it had occurred probably eighty yards away. Where was Ron? Harry scanned the area and saw Ron on the ground, inching towards Harry and Hermione.

“Harry, it’s probably You-Know----”

Ron was cut off as another loud explosion occurred.

Harry pulled out his wand, “I’m going to investigate.”

“Harry, that’s crazy! Don’t be an idiot!”

He shook his head at Ron, “I have to help those people.”

Hermione nodded and stood up, “Come on Ron, let’s go.”

Harry grabbed her arm, “You’re not coming with me.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow, “Oh really? Harry, I’m not going to sit here while you go and risk your neck. I’m coming and I think Ron will too.”

Ron nodded firmly and Harry sighed. He had no choice but to let them. After all it was not within his purview what they could or could not do, although this fact made him very angry at the moment.

They rushed out of the store and Harry’s eyes were immediately drawn about forty yards to the left where three men in dark cloaks were torturing civilians and blowing up large areas of the road.

Harry charged up to one of them and kicked him in the back of the head. His mask slipped off and Harry recognized the long, thin face of Antonin Dolohov. Harry guessed that he had escaped with his fellow Death Eaters from Azkaban recently. This was the man who had hurt Hermione two months ago. This was the man who had knocked her unconscious in such a convincing fashion that Harry had thought her dead. Such a rage rose up in Harry that for a second he thought it would consume him.

“Ron, Hermione, let me take this one myself.”

Ron and Hermione nodded and Ron turned and shot out a Stunning Spell at one of the two other Death-Eaters, who deflected it. Hermione began dueling with the other one.

“Dolohov,” Harry spat.

“Potter.”

Harry punched Dolohov in the stomach with his left hand and sent a Stunning Spell at him with his other hand. Dolohov dodged the spell and shot out a jet of green light that barely missed Harry. Harry jumped up from the ground and kicked Dolohov in the groin.

Dolohov groaned and shot out strong, thick ropes towards Harry. Harry was tied up.

“Damn it!” he yelled.

Hermione was preoccupied in her battle with one of the Death Eaters who Harry now saw was Macnair. Although in a dangerous predicament himself, Harry couldn’t help but take pride in the fact that Hermione was holding her own against the executioner/Death Eater. Ron seemed to be winning against the man called Nott. He didn’t seem very strong and Ron was unceremoniously beating him down.

Harry turned his attention back onto himself. The ropes were very tight around him and he saw Dolohov begin to approach him, grinning from ear-to-ear. Anger rose up in Harry. He was going to die. He would never see Ron again. Or Hermione…

At the thought of his two best friends, Harry felt such a powerful energy thrum through him that he felt light-headed. Harry looked down and saw the ropes were on the ground, looking tattered. He realized that he had just ripped out of those thick ropes.

Dolohov was looking at him with a mixture of anger and respect. The man raised his wand began and began to start the same slashing motion that had rendered Hermione unconscious in the Department of Mysteries. Harry leaped forward and kicked the wand out of his hands. Picking up Dolohov’s wand, Harry pointed his own wand at the Death Eater and yelled, “STUPEFY!” Dolohov fell to the ground, Stunned.

Harry looked around and saw that Nott was beginning to fight back against Ron and Ron was being backed into a wall. Hermione on the other hand was beginning to drive back Macnair and Macnair looked slightly scared.

“STUPEFY!” yelled Hermione and Macnair finally fell to the ground unconscious.

Ron leaped into the air and kicked Nott in the head. Nott fell back his mind clearly losing consciousness and Ron helped it along by Stunning him. Harry looked around at them and saw that perspiration was evident all over them. Ron’s hair was sticking up and his shirt was wet. Hermione looked as pretty as ever, but her shirt was also soaked and she had a scratch on her arm. Harry knew that he could not look much better, but he noticed that they were all grinning like they had just had a Cheering Charm performed on them. They had taken on three Death Eaters----and won.

A loud crack suddenly startled the happy silence and Harry whirled around to see Kingsley Shacklebolt and an Auror called Dawlish surveying the scene.

“Well, well, well,” said Dawlish, looking at the three unconscious Death Eaters, “what have we here? Three escaped, unconscious Death Eaters.”

Kingsley nodded, “Yes. Perhaps instead of taking them to Azkaban this time, we could put them at Hogwarts in the dungeons.”

Dawlish agreed and they placed the three on stretchers to be taken to Hogwarts for Dumbledore to stand guard over. When Dawlish disappeared with the stretchers, Kingsley turned back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, grinning.

“You three fought amazingly well. Taking on three Death Eaters who have committed countless murders----and winning----is quite an accomplishment. I knew Dumbledore was right when he said three would be good for those private lessons,” Kingsley said. He winked and then he Disapparated.

Ron grinned at the other two, “We are pretty good, aren’t we? Wonder what those private lessons are about… Anyway, we should probably head back to the shop and then home. Mum’s probably had a heart attack.”

The trio hurried back to Fred and George’s shop where the two proprietors were hastily trying to explain what had happened to a head that was in the fire. On closer inspection, the head was found to be Mrs. Weasley’s. Suddenly she caught sight of Ron.

“WHERE WERE YOU, RONALD ARTHUR WEASLEY?”

“Harry, Hermione, and I were helping out some civilians,” Ron said, grinning rather cheekily at his mother.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“Calm down, Mum,” said Ron still beaming, “Harry, Hermione, and I just decided when we heard the explosions that we better go and help out whoever was being attacked. We kicked those Death-Eater’s butts, Mum! I took out the dude named Nott and Hermione kicked Macnair’s sorry little arse----and you should have seen Harry. Man, Dolohov really must be feeling sorry for himself.”

Mrs. Weasley looked slightly proud at what they had done but that did not stop her from giving them all a good scolding.

“Now, get back home this instant!” she barked.

“Once your head gets out of the fire, Mother,” said Fred, winking at her.

Mrs. Weasley’s head quickly disappeared and George grabbed some Floo Powder. One by one they went through the fire and landed in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place’s living room.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our new heroes,” said a disdainful voice.

Harry glared up at Professor Snape.

“What are you doing here, Snape?” Harry asked icily.

“That would be Professor Snape to you. You’re quite lucky term hasn’t started, otherwise you would have already lost five points for Gryffindor,” Snape replied silkily.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was quickly elbowed by Hermione, “Be quiet!”

Snape grinned with satisfaction and strolled out of the room leaving the four Weasley children, Harry, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley to stare angrily after.

“Are you all right?” asked Mrs. Weasley, turning towards the children.

They all nodded and Ron motioned for the others to follow him up to his room. Harry flopped onto his bed and didn’t miss the fact that Hermione and Ginny had both sat down at the foot of his bed. Ron was smirking as were Fred and George.

“So what was it like?” asked Fred eagerly.

“Awesome,” said Ron, “we whipped them.”

Harry nodded his agreement, “Yeah, I especially enjoyed getting Dolohov back for hurting Hermione.”

Hermione beamed and Harry grinned warmly at her. Ginny did not look too pleased at this and made a loud tutting sound. Harry was drawn back to the present rather abruptly.

“I wonder if they’re gonna be more attacks,” George said, “and I didn’t know that some of the Death-Eaters from Azkaban had been sprung.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “maybe they were sprung yesterday or something.”

“Perhaps,” said Hermione frowning, “Kingsley said that they’re now putting them in Hogwarts or something. I don’t really like the sound of that. If someone really important like Bellatrix Lestrange got in there, Voldemort might mount an attack on Hogwarts.”

Ron sighed, “I wish you’d stop calling him by his name, Hermione. It’s bad enough when Harry----”

Harry’s temper flared, “Why can’t she call him by his name? That’s how he should be addressed, right? Don’t jump on her because she’s a lot braver than you---”

“Shut up, Harry! I’m just not used to it, okay? You don’t need to jump down my throat about it,” Ron said angrily.

“Well, fine,” said Harry equally angry.

“Come on guys,” said Hermione, “it’s really up to me whether I want to call Voldemort by his name or not. So you two don’t need to fight about it.”

Ron sighed, “You’re right---as usual. Truce, Harry?”

Harry nodded and they shook hands, a little harder than usual but everything was pretty much back to normal again.

“Anyway, Harry, are you going to keep doing the D.A., Harry? You were a really good teacher last year,” Ginny purred and she gave him a rather spicy wink.

Hermione glared icily at Ginny and Ron, Fred, and George smirked at one another for some reason. Harry, on the other hand, just answered her question.

“Yes, it was fun, but since Kingsley’s going to be our teacher, I don’t know if anyone’ll want to be in it. I can still help out Hermione and Ron though.”

Ginny looked unhappy at her exclusion from the list, but decided to ignore it, “So anyway, back to the question that Granger was asking before you guys got all huffy about You-Know-Who’s name, d’you think he’ll attack Hogwarts if Lestrange or Malfoy gets put into prison there?”

“There’s no need to refer to Hermione by last name,” Fred said pleasantly, “and, I personally don’t think he’d attack Hogwarts just to get Lestrange or someone out.”

Ron nodded, “I agree. Dumbledore’s too dangerous for You-Know-Who to attack Hogwarts.”

Remnants of the prophecy began to filter through his brain. Suddenly he felt the urge to tell something important to Ron and Hermione.

“Er…Fred, George, and Ginny, can you leave for a little bit? I need to talk to Ron and Hermione privately.”

Fred and George strolled off without a moment’s hesitation, but Ginny lingered on the bed.

“He included you on that list,” Hermione said politely, “so why don’t you leave?”

Ginny stood up, whispered a few choice words in Hermione’s ear and walked off.

Harry immediately turned to Hermione, “What did she say?”

“Nothing,” Hermione replied, but she avoided his eyes.

“Tell us, Hermione!” Ron half-shouted, “If she’s insulting you, I’ll make her pay.”

“It’s nothing,” said Hermione, still staring at the ground.

Harry and Ron shared frustrated glances, but Ron changed the subject, “So, what’s up, Harry?”

“You said that Dumbledore visited you earlier and told you a little bit about the prophecy. How much he did tell you?”

“He said you have the power to kill him and he has the power to kill you. Not much else,” said Hermione.

Harry sighed, “All right. I’m going to tell you everything…okay, the main thing is that Trelawney made this prophecy--- (Hermione gave a cluck of impatience while Ron gave a look of surprise) ---look, guys, this is a real prophecy, she made another one to me when I took her exam in the third year. Anyway, the point is that I’m the only one who can conquer Voldemort. So if Voldemort found that out, which he hasn’t yet, than there’s nothing to be afraid of at Hogwarts besides runty me.”

“You’re not runty---you’re taller than me,” Hermione said angrily, but then her voice softened as she said, “wow, I didn’t know that you were the only one who could kill him. If Voldemort knew----”

“He’d attack Hogwarts without a second thought,” Ron finished, looking quite awestruck.

“Yeah, I hope he doesn’t find out. That’s why I sent the others out. I mean, I think Fred, George, and Ginny would never tell, but I don’t trust them like you guys.”

Ron grinned and patted Harry on the back, “Don’t worry, this secret’s safe with us.”

Hermione nodded vigorously and hugged him, “It must be really hard for you knowing that you’re the only chance the world’s got.”

“My feelings exactly,” Harry said as he breathed in the slightly fruity scent of Hermione’s hair, “did you know it could’ve been Neville?”

“NEVILLE?” Ron asked, half-laughing.

“Yeah, if Voldemort had attacked the Longbottoms instead of me, than he’d be the ‘Boy Who Lived.’”

Ron looked shocked and even Hermione, who still hadn’t let go of Harry, had a surprised expression on her face.

“Funny how fate works, isn’t it?” Hermione sighed.

“Yeah,” said Harry miserably, “I hate this life. I wish my parents were alive and Sirius----”

His voice choked up as he remembered his late parents and his recently killed godfather. Hermione hugged him even tighter and slipped her arms around his neck.

“Harry, it was meant to be that way. Fate is fate. We can’t do anything about it. What if you guys hadn’t decided to come running after the troll? I’d probably be dead and even if I somehow lived, I still wouldn’t be friends with you two and that would be horrible because you two are the best friends I’ve ever had,” Hermione said and she drew Ron into their three-way group hug.

Harry sighed, “Much as I want my parents and Sirius back, I don’t think I’d give up either of you two.”

Ron raised an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

Harry sat on his bed, looking thoughtful, “Yeah. You two are the best people I’ve ever met and even if I got my parents and Sirius back, if you two were dead, I would never forgive myself or be as happy as I could be.”

A loud and intrusive voice broke in through the thoughtful silence that had eclipsed the room, “Are you guys done yet? I’m bored.”

“We’re coming, Ginny,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

He opened the door and she walked in, looking slightly peeved. A moment later, Fred and George appeared looking quite cheerful.

“I’m sorry all, but it appears that lunch will be served soon. I suggest we hasten downstairs and eat,” said George pompously.

The three Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione rolled their eyes at George and the six hurried down to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was haphazardly putting the last touches on her sandwiches.

Ten minutes later, Harry finally stopped gulping down the tasty chicken salad sandwiches to ask a question that had been bothering him since they had returned to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place from Diagon Alley.

“Mrs. Weasley, how many more attacks have there been?”

Mrs. Weasley’s eyes closed as if in anguish and when she opened them, there were hints of tears in them, “Seven reported so far. One of them you stopped, four others have been stopped by Dumbledore, and two others are still raging on. So far only four Death-Eaters have been apprehended, and three of them escaped from the person who was transporting them to Hogwarts---the three that I believe you neutralized. More than twenty-two wizards have been killed so far.”

Hermione’s hand reassuringly squeezed Harry’s, which had clenched up in anger, and asked, “Why are there so many attacks?”

“Sending a warning to Dumbledore that they’re willing to kill anyone and everyone, most likely,” came Lupin’s voice. He strode into the kitchen, looking more shabby and haggard than ever.

“Just give me a bit of a sandwich, Molly. I need to get to the battle in Oxford.”

Mrs. Weasley grabbed a bacon sandwich off a protesting Ginny’s plate and shoved it into Lupin’s mouth. He quickly swallowed it, tipped his wizard’s hat to Mrs. Weasley, and Disapparated.

“Must be a busy day,” Ron said, his eyes glinting as though he wanted to join the battle.

Harry was about to comment on Ron’s keen and rather dangerous sense of adventure when suddenly Snape walked in, looking rather angry about something. Trailing behind him was a blond girl that everyone only knew too well---Luna ‘Loony’ Lovegood. Harry had had a feeling she had a crush on Ron, but with Luna, you never knew. She believed in everything that she heard and was a big fan of her father’s magazine, The Quibbler, which usually printed a load of junk in it.

“What’re you doing here, Luna?” Ron asked, looking rather bewildered.

Snape went over and muttered something in Mrs. Weasley’s ear. Her eyes widened and she nodded. Snape gave a glare to Harry and disappeared with a loud crack.

Meanwhile, Luna had chosen to answer Ron’s question, “Well, I was brought here by Professor Snape to keep me safe.”

“From what?” asked Ron, puzzled.

“Well, you see, my father was just killed by a Death Eater in our home about half an hour ago and Professor Dumbledore thinks that my family was a target because I helped Harry out in the Department of Mysteries,” said Luna, her voice neither wavering nor shaking.

Two things happened at the same time. Everyone’s eyes widened in horror that Luna’s father had been killed (Hermione gave out a muffled cry of shock.) Then in a move that surprised everyone including himself, Ron went over to Luna and hugged her.

Luna looked quite unperturbed, “It’s quite all right you know. I was actually sort of expecting this.”

“How’d you get out alive?” Harry asked.

“Professor Snape assisted me,” she replied.

Ron let go of Luna and stared at her as if judging to see whether she was really all right. Hermione and Ginny both came over to Luna and hugged her, although Luna looked as though if she thought this attention was quite unnecessary.

“Do you want something to eat?” asked Mrs. Weasley.

Luna shook her head, “My father and I were just finishing lunch when the Death Eater burst in. So I’m quite full, thank you.”

Harry wondered if her cool demeanor was just part of some act. He was sure that it must be hurting a lot inside. After all, he had lost Sirius over a month ago and still was very painful.

“Where’s your mother?” asked Ron curiously.

“She died when I was nine,” Luna said.

Mrs. Weasley came over and patted Luna on the back, “I’m sure you’ll find a nice family to take you in.”

Luna shrugged, “Yes, I hope so.”

Fred piped up, “Why don’t we take her, Mum?”

Mrs. Weasley gave him a look which clearly said, “We’ll discuss this later.” Silently Fred turned back to his almost-done sandwich.

Harry and the others began finishing their sandwiches, with scarcely a word being passed.

“You can stay in my room,” offered Hermione, turning to Luna when they were done.

“More often than not, you’ll have the bedroom to yourself,” George said, grinning, “she’s usually up sleeping in Harry’s bed.”

Hermione blushed scarlet and Harry could feel himself sinking to the floor. Ginny looked furious, Fred and George were laughing, and Ron was hiding a grin. Luna looked vaguely interested.

“I see,” she said calmly, “I would be happy to accept your offer, Hermione.”

“It’s not like they’re making it seem like,” Hermione said, blushing even further red.

“Yeah,” Harry added fervently, “we were just talking and we kind of fell asleep.”

Luna shrugged, “I don’t especially care what you guys do. It’s your life, after all.”

Ron stood up, “Let’s go upstairs.”

The others followed, Harry still fuming about George’s comment. Ron kept turning back and winking at Harry and this was very annoying. They finally reached their room and Ron shut the door behind them.

“So, what do you guys want to talk about or do?”

Fred shrugged, “I dunno. George and I are going to go develop some stuff for the shop, so see you guys later.”

They walked out the door and mentioning something about taking her stuff to Hermione’s room, Luna followed suit.

“I’ll help you,” said Hermione and she ran after Luna.

Not to be outdone, Ginny also went to help Luna who looked quite bewildered at all the help she was getting. This left Ron and Harry in their room. Ron flopped onto his bed and turned to face Harry who was lying in his own bed.

“Man, what a day.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I can’t believe Luna’s dad’s dead. I mean I knew that her mother had died---she told me so last year---but man, this must really hurt for her. Oh yeah, Ron, did you know Hermione’s mother died over the summer?”

“WHAT?” Ron shouted incredulously.

Harry nodded, “That’s why she slept in my bed last night. I had to comfort her. Can you believe she got all those O.W.L.s and stuff, not to mention help me in every single, little thing I need help on knowing that her mother was in her deathbed?”

Ron shook his head unbelievingly, “When did she know for sure her mother was going to die?”

“February,” Harry replied, “but her mother didn’t die until about a week into summer.”

“Right before she came here,” Ron said, “she didn’t even act differently or anything.”

“I know,” Harry said, “she’s really amazing.”

Ron simply nodded and seemed ready to add something when the three girls walked in again. Ginny immediately sat down luxuriously on Harry’s bed, leaving no room for anyone else. Hermione scowled and sat down at the foot of Ron’s bed. Luna remained standing, looking politely disinterested as usual.

“So, what’d you guys want to do?” asked Ron.

“Let’s play Truth or Dare,” Ginny said, grinning.

“What’s that?” asked Ron confusedly.

“This Muggle game where a person asks another person, ‘Truth or Dare.’ If you say ‘Truth,’ they ask you a question and you have to answer with the truth. If you choose ‘Dare,’ you have to do whatever they tell you to do. And if you simply refuse to do either, you have to reveal a deep secret of yours,” Harry explained, having played it once with Dudley and his gang of friends (all he could remember about the incident was being punched a lot.)

Luna looked interested and so did Ginny and Hermione, so Ron shrugged, “Why not? Who starts?”

“I’ll start,” said Harry, “I pick you, Ron. Truth or Dare?”

Ron grinned, “Dare.”

“Sing, ‘I Love You For Sentimental Reasons,’ to Luna,” Harry said, smirking.

Ron’s grin disappeared. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to sing. Everyone except for Luna was sniggering at not only Ron’s inept singing voice and his bumbling notes.

Luna however was looking up at Ron with this odd, unreadable expression on her face. Harry supposed she didn’t want to make Ron feel bad. His voice was quite horrible. Finally, Ron finished and sat down to scattered mock clapping.

“Okay,” Ron said his ears pink, “how about you Ginny?”

“Truth,” she replied.

“Did you ever make out with Michael Corner?” he asked, seriously.

“A couple times,” Ginny said indifferently.

“WHAT?” Ron shouted.

“Calm down, Ron,” Harry said.

Ron finally calmed down and took his seat once more.

“Hmmm…how about you, Luna?” asked Ginny.

“Dare,” Luna said calmly.

“Flash Ron.”

Harry and Ron gasped at the same time. No way a girl was going to show off her breasts to a guy on a simple game of ‘Truth or Dare’, right?

“Only Ron?” she asked.

“You’re not seriously doing this?” Hermione asked questioningly.

“Sure,” she said and when Ginny nodded to signify only Ron, Luna stepped outside. Ron paused.

“This isn’t right. I’m not going to do this,” he said.

Hermione muttered, “I’m glad you have some decency.”

Ron ignored her, “Luna, just tell us a secret or something.”

Luna shrugged, “All right. My secret is that I really would like to get kissed one day.”

Hermione sighed sympathetically, “Yeah, I’ve never been kissed either.”

Luna nodded agreeably before saying, “All right, it’s your turn, Hermione.”

Hermione glanced at Harry before deciding, “Truth.”

“Do you have feelings for either Harry or Ron?” Luna asked.

Harry caught himself leaning forward eagerly to her answer. Hermione looked at both of them and said, “Yes.”

“Which one?” Ron asked.

“None of your business----that wasn’t the question at any rate.”

Harry ground his teeth in frustration. Hermione was about to pick Harry when Mrs. Weasley came in, “It’s dinner time. Why don’t you all come downstairs?”

Everyone nodded and began heading out of the room; Hermione however hung back a little bit and motioned for Harry to do the same. When everyone was out of the room, she leaned up and whispered, “Meet me in the basement.”

Surprised, Harry nodded. When she walked out, he numbly realized that she was asking him to meet her in private. What did she want?

During dinner, Harry seemed to slip in and out of the conversations and his eyes seemed to have taken a glazed look as he thought and thought about Hermione.

“Are you all right, Harry?” asked Mrs. Weasley.

“Fine, fine.”

After dinner, Ron and Harry bade goodnight to the girls by their rooms and headed up to their own room.

“Hey, Ron, guess what? Hermione wants me to meet her in the basement at ten o’clock.”

Ron started laughing, “I wonder why.”

Harry shrugged, “She probably has a good reason for it. What time is it?”

Ron checked his watch, “Nine-thirty. Relax, mate.”

But Harry could not relax. He kept pacing up and down the room, with Ron casting an amused eye at him. Finally it was five to ten.

“All right, get out. Go meet your lovely damsel,” Ron smirked.

Harry slowly walked out of the room, his heart hammering. He finally reached the basement and hurried down the stairs to find it already softly lit. He looked around to see Hermione standing against a fluffy couch with a record of some sort in her hand.

“Sit, Harry,” she said pleasantly.

Feeling confused, Harry sat down on the couch and watched bemusedly as she put the record in a record player and begin to set it.

“Won’t it not work because of the magic in the air?” asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head, “It’s like one of those magical cameras. It works in either place.”

Harry nodded.

Hermione finally turned to him, a tear apparent in one of her eyes.

“Just listen,” she pleaded.

The record started playing and Hermione started singing softly, hauntingly.

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the broken hearted people
Living in the world agree,
There will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is
Still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the night is cloudy,
There is still a light that shines on me,
Shine on until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

Her voice was beautiful, the song even more so. A thousand emotions and images crossed his mind, all relating to his dead godfather. He felt sad, but strangely at peace.

“Oh, Hermione,” he said, his voice breaking.

Hermione ran into his arms and began sobbing,

“I thought you’d like it,” she said, “It’s also perfect for me too. My mother---”

She broke off, but Harry nodded understandingly and held Hermione close, trying to brave his own demons. The song had a powerful message for both of them. They just had to let it be and not try to fight the change and deaths of their close family. Change was inevitable, like the tide rolling onto the beach.

Harry and Hermione fell asleep in each other’s arms, the haunting tunes going on and on in their minds.

*AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Let It Be” is a song by the Beatles, written by Paul McCartney.

4. Jerek Samsung

Chapter Four---Jerek Samsung

Harry awoke the next morning to find the record's music still playing. It really was a beautiful song. Harry cast an eye down at the sleeping Hermione. Deciding to wake her, he poked her in the side.

“Mmmph…?” Hermione mumbled.

“Thanks for that song. It was beautiful. You have a great voice you know,” Harry said.

“Thanks,” she said and sighed, “I love that song. The Beatles have some great songs and that was a very deep one that I absolutely adore.”

Harry nodded and then, impulsively kissed Hermione on the cheek.

“Thanks, Hermione, you're wonderful.”

Harry gently pushed Hermione off of him and stood up and stretched. Ron was probably thinking that they were doing something illicit down here. Well, there was nothing he could do about that.

Hermione stood up next to him and stretched as well, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She looked rather cute in her pajamas. Hermione caught him smiling and asked him what he was smiling about.

“You just look cute in those pajamas,” Harry replied.

Hermione blushed and mumbled something about going upstairs and changing. Harry followed her and then headed up to Ron's room, where Ron was snoring in his bed. He quickly shook him awake.

“Where's the fire?” Ron asked sleepily.
“Nowhere,” Harry said shaking his head.

Grumbling, Ron sat up. When he caught sight of Harry standing by his bed still in his pajamas, he grinned.

“So what happened last night?”
Harry muttered, “Nothing.”

Ron raised his eyebrows, “Nothing?”

“I just don't feel like telling you now, Ron. I'll tell you some other time, okay?”

Ron shrugged and began to get dressed. Harry sighed; right now, he didn't want to tell Ron because for some reason, he felt that this was something special for him and Hermione alone. In time he'd probably tell Ron, but for now, he wanted to keep it private.

After both of them were dressed, they headed downstairs for breakfast.

Mrs. Weasley looked up, “There you two are. Everyone else is already done, except for Hermione, I think. Hurry now.”

They grabbed some porridge and sat down to eat. Hermione hadn't come down yet and Ron kept shooting looks over at Harry as if half-expecting that he and Hermione were dating now.

Hermione finally came down five minutes later and Ron took to looking at her, but neither Harry nor Hermione were talking about it.

Fred and George came down, grinning as usual, “I can't wait till we pull that trick on Ginny.”

Ron nodded happily, “Yeah, it's gonna rock. Hermione, just wait until we get back to Hogwarts.”

She shrugged, but looked happier. Ginny came down a few minutes afterwards in a very tight T-shirt and her jeans seemed to be slipping. Ron took one look at her and stood up very angrily.

“Change from that right now, young lady,” he half-shouted.

She looked at him coolly, “You're not my mother.”

“Well I am,” a voice called out from behind her, “and I order you to go back to your room and change out of those clothes now.”

Sighing, Ginny went away following her mother's instructions.

“Where's Luna?” asked Harry.

Ron shrugged and looked at Hermione.

“I didn't see her this morning,” she said.

Ron gulped down the last of his porridge and stood up, “I'm going to try and find her.”

“I'll help you,” offered Harry.

Ron and Harry began looking around the various rooms of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. After nearly twenty minutes, both were about to give up when they heard muffled noises coming from the basement. They looked at each other quickly and ran down the stairs.

Luna was lying on the couch and she was giving out muffled sobs.

“Are you all right, Luna?” asked Ron nervously, both of them realizing that she was probably sobbing about her father.

She rose from her chair, wiping her tears away, “Yes, I'm fine. Is it breakfast time?”

Ron nodded silently and they walked back up the stairs, Luna making no noise at all. When the reached the kitchen, Luna was back to her normal, dreamy self and began eating her porridge in her usual manner.

Hermione looked questioningly at Harry, but he just shook his head. After Luna and Ginny were finished, the four trooped back upstairs to Harry and Ron's room.

Harry suddenly had an idea and strode over to the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.

“Er…Phineas? Mr. Nigellus?”

Loud, fake snoring reached his ears.

“MR. NIGELLUS? PHINEAS!”

He jerked awake very theatrically. Phineas Nigellus, an old Headmaster of Hogwarts and one of Sirius' ancestors, was in two paintings (as far as Harry knew), one in Dumbledore's office and one here. He was able to go between them and send information, although he was rather an unwilling participant in this. If it weren't for Dumbledore, he probably wouldn't do anything at all.

“What is it?” he said, “Oh, it's you. The moping, miserable little boy who thinks the world revolves around him.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond angrily, but Hermione quickly elbowed him.

“Can you ask Dumbledore if he needs our help in any battle?” Harry asked.

“WHAT?” Hermione shouted, “Don't be crazy, Harry, we're not good enough to actually be of any use.”

Harry glared at her, “Hermione, this is the only way I can try and redeem my godfather's death. By hurting the people who killed him.”

Hermione looked back at him, tears shining in his eyes, “Harry, remember what happened last time we went off like this? Ginny twisted her ankle, Ron got hit by some weird curse and couldn't think straight, I became unconscious, and Sirius died! Please, Harry, let's just stay here.”

Harry began to think. Hermione was right. They would just be unnecessarily risking themselves and Harry wouldn't even be able to live himself if his idiocy caused more innocent people to die. Harry didn't even want to think about either Ron or Hermione dying.

“You're right, Hermione,” Harry said and Hermione gave a huge gasp of relief and hugged Harry.

Awkwardly Harry tried to move Hermione off him, because Ginny was glaring daggers at her and Ron looked like he was trying not to laugh. Luna didn't look interested, but even she was beginning to stare. Hermione finally moved her arms off him and Harry looked around at Phineas who was giving unconvincing snores.

“Phineas, never mind that. Go on fake-sleeping,” he said.

Phineas Nigellus gave no indication that he had heard Harry.

“So what'd you guys want to do?” Harry asked, feeling somewhat bored.

“How about wizard's chess?”

Ron began beating them all in about twenty moves each. He finally beat Harry who was the second-best player for the sixth time by taking Harry's bishop with his queen and giving the king checkmate at the same time.

Two weeks later, the attacks hadn't stopped coming although they were more isolated incidents and concentrated away from London now. It seemed as if Voldemort was slowing his pace to give a chance for widespread panic to occur. The day before, Lupin had suggested that Voldemort knew that with almost daily attacks, people were growing to expect it and deal with it. So Voldemort had probably decided to hold off for a while and strike every now and then as he had done sixteen years ago, keeping every one in constant and unexpected fear of coming home to see the Dark Mark above their houses.

Since the school year started again the following week, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were going to go to Diagon Alley with Mrs. Weasley to purchase their school supplies (Luna had already bought hers.) Mr. Weasley was absent on “Order business” and Harry had heard Lupin say to Tonks that he wasn't helping out at one of the sites that was attacked by Voldemort. Hermione had suggested that he was doing that Order work that only six or seven people knew about and Harry had to agree with her.

Harry waited, his pockets full of gold, as Ginny and Ron both used Floo Powder to get to Diagon Alley.

“Your turn, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Hermione gave Harry's hand a quick squeeze and Harry steeled himself for the rigors of Floo traveling again. He entered the fireplace, threw the powder down, but suddenly sneezed right as he said, “Diagon Alley.”

Harry felt himself moving through several grates at once and finally he stopped, falling out into a store that was definitely not in Diagon Alley. He quickly realized that he was in Borgin and Burkes, a shop in Knockturn Alley that he had accidentally visited four years ago. Knockturn Alley was a dark underworld of a place where, in Harry's mind, several illegal things probably occurred.

He felt a sudden urge to look around this shop, even though he knew Mrs. Weasley and the others were probably going frantic trying to find him. Maybe this shop or others in Knockturn Alley could have some useful stuff for him to learn and read about.

Harry walked over to an area of the shop that seemed to specialize in shrunken heads. He began examining them, a sort of morbid fascination creeping into him.

“Looking for something?” a voice from behind him said.

Harry whirled around to see Mr. Borgin, his hair slightly grayer and his stomach a little wider. He had not lost his oily voice however.

“Not really, this is my first time in the shop,” Harry replied coolly, flattening his hair to make sure Borgin didn't notice his scar.

“Anything you're interested in?” Borgin asked.

“Any way to legally cause severe pain?” Harry asked, trying to keep the interest in his voice to a minimum.

“Legally?” asked Borgin.

“I mean instead of the Cruciatus Curse.”

Borgin began looking around his shop and finally pulled a spellbook out from under his counter.

“My very own,” he said.

“What's in it?” Harry asked.

Borgin showed him several pages that were filled with gruesome descriptions of how these particular curses worked. This would be useful for maybe the D.A. and definitely for avenging his godfather's death.

“How much?”

They began haggling over the price and Harry soon left with the spellbook magically shrunken so it wouldn't be noticed, his pockets feeling much lighter, although he still had quite a bit of money left. Harry looked up around the walkway in Knockturn Alley, feeling slightly apprehensive.

A woman holding several intestines approached him.

“Lost, are you?” she asked menacingly.

“No,” Harry said and glared at her just as threateningly. Deciding that Harry was not one to be trifled with, the witch moved on.

Harry soon caught sight of Draco Malfoy and his mother strolling along the path, a few bags in their possession.

“If it isn't the famous Scarhead,” Malfoy said sneeringly, “never thought I'd see the day where you walked Knockturn Alley.”

“If it isn't Draco Malfoy,” Harry shot back, “never thought I'd see you around actually [I]buying[/I] things after your father was thrown in jail.”

Draco looked abashed and angry but he still whispered, “Well, my father's out now, so I don't care.”

Harry smirked, “Tell him I'm waiting for him.”

Harry brushed past Draco and his pretty, but strangely odd-looking mother, ignoring Draco's vile hisses.

Moving on down the street, Harry stopped in various stores, not buying anything. There didn't seem to be any bookstores on curses around and Harry wasn't really looking for necklaces that would kill their wearer.

Out of the corner of his eye, and old and dusty-looking store seemed to be falling apart. He moved closer and saw the sign. [I]Flesh and Blood[/I]. It was a bookstore.

Harry entered it, still feeling weird at the thought of walking around Knockturn Alley, a place where Hagrid had said that if people saw you there, they'd `[I]think you were up ter no good[/I].'

A skull tinkled overhead as he walked into the store, his eyes darting through the store.

There was a sudden tap on his shoulder and Harry whirled around, his wand in his hand and pointed straight out. There was nothing for his wand to meet however. He looked down and saw a tiny, sinister-looking wizard looking up at him.

“Jerek Samsung,” he said, offering his minuscule hand.

Harry took it warily. Samsung barely came up to his knees. Could he possibly be a threat?

“Dean Thomas,” he replied, saying the first name that came into his head while flattening the hair on his head.

Jerek Samsung nodded and gazed up at him, his large eyes seeming to swell, “Mr. Thomas, what would you like to buy?”

“I'm looking for some curse books,” Harry replied.

Samsung nodded and led Harry to a section of the store that also seemed to have pictures of blood spilling everywhere and people emerging from the ground, dripping in blood.

“These are the best,” he said.

Harry began to browse through them, picking up the ones that interested him. There were several books on pain, a few others on revenge, and one on how to kill a person with different types of potions. Hefting the large sack, Harry headed over to the counter.

“That would be thirty-four Galleons, Mr. Potter,” Samsung said, holding out his small hand.

“Wait a minute, how'd you know---?”

The little wizard smiled sinisterly, “I know a lot about you. My friend Severus talks about you quite often. Highly critical of you, though.”

Harry took a step back, “You know [I]Snape[/I]?”

Jerek Samsung simply smiled, “Yes. He and I went to school together. We are friends today although we weren't back then…For the past five years, whenever I talk to him, it's always `Potter this' or `Potter that.' It's quite tiresome, you know. I myself find it hard to believe that Harry Potter is in Knockturn Alley looking for curse books.”

“With Voldemort back, I figure it's the best idea,” he said, his eyes hardening, “besides, I have a little vengeance to exact on him.”

Samsung nodded, “I see. Potter, I would suggest you leave Knockturn Alley now, however. Your friends are probably insanely worried about you and hear you are looking for curse books.”

Harry grinned sheepishly, “Sorry, sir. Er…do you know any spell to make my books invisible to them?”

Samsung smiled and flicked out his wand. After muttering a quick spell, the books seemed to disappear in his bag.

“Thank you.”

Samsung just nodded and watched as Harry walked out of his compartment, silently humming to himself.

Harry finally walked out of Knockturn Alley into the bright sunlight of Diagon Alley. He looked around happily, trying to catch sight of one of the Weasleys or Hermione.

He began walking up the street, looking left and right. Suddenly he felt his eyes being covered by someone's hand. The voice was low, but recognizable.

“Where were you for so long?” the voice asked.

“Er…er…” Harry said, trying to shake Hermione off.

Hermione wouldn't let go and Harry's eyes were still covered.

“Stop it, already!” Harry half-shouted.

“Where were you?” she repeated.

Harry hadn't thought about this. Sure, he had hidden what he had bought in Knockturn Alley, but how was he going to explain the hour of missed time? Suddenly he had an inspiration.

“I got stuck in a house on the way here,” he replied coolly.

Hermione spun him around and looked at him carefully. Harry looked back at her, his expression as neutral as could be. She finally nodded and motioned for him to continue.

“Well, when the family realized that Harry Potter was stuck in their grate, they immediately treated me to some sandwiches. I also had to sign a few autographs.”

Hermione looked at him and started laughing. Harry stared perplexedly at her as she continued laughing and laughing.

“What is so bloody funny?” he asked, gripping her shoulders.

“You,” she replied, clutching his arms for support.

Harry glared at her, but still waited patiently for her to recover. When she finally stopped laughing, he stared questioningly at her.

“It's so funny,” she said, “now, wherever you go, you get mobbed and get free sandwiches. But about three months ago, most people would've thrown you out immediately.”

Harry laughed. Hermione was right. For most of the past year, the wizarding world had thought he was a raving lunatic, going on and on about Voldemort's return. After the Dark Lord had shown himself in the Ministry of Magic two months ago during the battle which cost Sirius his life, everyone had immediately warmed up to Harry again and he was once again the hero of the world.

“So, where's Ron?” Harry asked, looking around for any sign of red hair.

She shrugged, “The whole family's spread out over Diagon Alley to try and find you.”

Harry looked at her incredulously. She almost looked like she didn't care whether they found the other Weasleys or not. She actually looked like she wanted to spend more time with him----away from the Weasleys.

“Er…do you want some ice cream?” he asked.

Hermione blushed, but Harry wasn't really sure why. Perhaps it was because they were going to openly spend time with each other instead of doing the proper thing and finding the Weasleys. Harry felt his stomach tighten up with guilt, but he reasoned that in the ice cream parlor they'd probably run into Ron and everything would be fine.

However, Florean Fortescue's shop was quite empty save for a young couple kissing in the corner. Looking nervously at each other, they sat down far away from the couple. When Florean came to get the order, Harry quickly ordered the large banana ice cream with gummy bears that Hermione wanted and the large raspberry with choco-nuts for himself. After he left, they looked at each other awkwardly. Harry finally broke the silence.

“What the hell is going on? We've known each other for more than five years …we should be able to talk to each other,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

Hermione laughed, “Yeah, you're right.”

Harry and Hermione spent the next half hour talking. Not just talking about Voldemort, but talking about a wide variety of subjects including what they were planning to do post-Hogwarts and how they were going to do it, talking about last year's battle in the Department of Mysteries, but most importantly for both of them, talking about the loved one they had lost recently.

Harry felt his face dissolve into tears as he finished talking about Sirius. Hermione daintily wiped the tears off her own face with a handkerchief and reached over to do the same to him. Harry leaned forward and felt his own tears being wiped off.

“Tell me about your mother,” he said.

Hermione stared up at the sky, “She was beautiful. She was also very friendly and loving. She was always there for me whenever I needed her. Whenever I had a problem or had trouble at school at school or just anything, I could always send it to her without fear of being punished, unless I had done a really, really bad thing, or fear of being laughed at. She would always tell me what I needed to hear---not what I wanted to hear---and managed to never hurt my feelings. She always expected high grades from me, but always let me know that she would love me no matter how well or how poorly I did on exams. It's just so difficult…”

Hermione blew her nose, the tears coming out hard now. Harry let his hand rest on hers in a measure of support. This seemed to calm her down slightly and she then whispered to him, “I just can't believe she's gone.”

Harry looked skyward, his brow furrowing hard. What was it that Dumbledore had said two years ago? After remembering, he decided to say the part that he would always remember and add some more of his own views. Reaching his hand out, he moved Hermione's chin up so she would face him.

“Hermione, do you think the dead ever truly leave us? You think that none of them lives on? No, they live on. Not as a ghost, Hermione. They live on almost as a spirit. Not something that is openly visible. You know where they live on?”

Hermione's eyes burned into his. Many emotions flooded through her eyes at the same time. Happiness, sadness, wanting, need, joy, death, love…Reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek, Harry whispered, “She lives on in you, Hermione. She lives on in your beauty, your love, your friendliness. She lives on in you.”

Harry felt his own tears coming, but blinked them furiously out of his eyes. Hermione walked around the table and hugged him, tears soaking his shoulder.

“Hermione, I'll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione whispered, “Somehow, I've always known that.”

Harry stroked her hair as she leaned against him, her sobs coming every now and then. He suddenly was reminded of how Cho had done nearly the same thing a lot during their relationship. This time it didn't really seem as annoying, as he had often found Cho's crying fits. Hermione just seemed to feel right in his arms and he liked it a lot more. It was rather strange.

“Let's go find Ron,” he whispered, after she stopped crying.

Hermione nodded and the two began walking the streets of Diagon Alley, trying to find any of the Weasleys. They finally ran into Ginny who was walking with her boyfriend from last year, Michael Corner.

“Ginny and Corner? I thought they dumped each other,” Harry whispered.

Hermione shrugged, uncaring.

“Hi, Harry!” Michael Corner called out.

Harry nodded, “How are you?”

“Pretty good,” said Michael, “are we doing the D.A. again this year?”

Harry nodded, “You bet. Even though I heard the Defense teacher's going to be good, it still doesn't hurt to have a Defense club.”

Michael grinned, “All right. I'll talk to both of you later.”

Harry and Hermione waved him off, both of them noting that Ginny had silently ignored them.

“Where would Ron be?” Harry asked, looking wildly around.

Hermione laughed, “Let's try Quality Quidditch Supplies.”

They went into the Quidditch store and they found Ron looking at some Chudley Cannons robes. He finally turned around and saw them.

“There you are, Harry! Where were you?”

Harry quickly repeated his false story and Ron was laughing by the end of it.

“Still famous?” he asked mockingly.

Harry grinned at his best friend, “I wish I wasn't.”

Hermione nodded consolingly, but Ron simply shrugged.

“So how about these robes? You think I should ask Fred and George to buy them for me for Christmas?”

“Did we hear our names?”

Fred and George had appeared out of the shadows and walked up to the trio.

“Lunch break,” said George, stretching out his limbs.

“So, how about it? Let's go have lunch together in the Leaky Cauldron.”

The trio agreed and the three Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione walked over to the Leaky Cauldron where Tom the bartender gave them a table in the back. After announcing pompously that he and George would be paying for everyone's meals, Fred looked surreptitiously around before speaking.

“Was it just me or was Ginny walking with that Corner guy from last year?”

“We saw the same thing,” Hermione said.

“And here I thought that she would still be broken up over Dean,” George said.

“Or Harry,” said Ron.

Everyone nodded and Harry noticed that Hermione's soft brown eyes had gone a dark, icy blue. It was her death-glare that he'd only seen her use on Rita Skeeter and Ron a couple times. He certainly would not want to be on the receiving end of that.

“So, are you all going to do your shopping after lunch?” Fred asked.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded with Ron adding, “I think Harrykins might need new robes too. He's grown too big for his old ones.”

Harry hit Ron on the arm, but nodded, “Yeah, I suppose he's right.”

Ron nodded sagely, “Of course I'm right. I'm always right.”

Laughing, the trio headed to Madam Malkin's to get their new robes. Harry and Ron got theirs pretty quickly, but Hermione seemed to be taking forever. Half an hour later, they were still sitting on the floor, waiting for Hermione.

“Come on Hermione, what are you doing?” Ron yelled.

“I'm getting dress robes,” she replied.

“Don't you already have some?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“I'm getting new ones.”

“Women,” grumbled Ron. Harry silently agreed.

Finally, fifteen minutes after that conversation, Hermione came out in her normal robes, carrying a big bag. Ron and Harry both rolled their eyes when they saw the bag, but Hermione ignored it.

“Where to next?” Ron asked.

They spent the rest of the day in peaceful happiness, shopping for their new supplies for the year. Harry was still thankful that he wasn't going to have Potions this year, although this was slightly tempered by the fact that he wouldn't be able to become an Auror without N.E.W.T. Potions. Harry was still wondering what his sixth subject was going to be. Ron had found out yesterday that his sixth subject was to be. To his horror, he had Divination. Ron had spent quite a bit of the last day griping about Dumbledore. Harry, on the other hand, hadn't even received a class. He had a nasty feeling in his stomach that it would be something like Divination or History of Magic.

When they returned to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry saw a face he did not expect there. It was Jerek Samsung. He was talking to Dumbledore in a very serious tone of voice.

“Who's that guy talking to Dumbledore?” Ron whispered.

Hermione shrugged and Harry did likewise, even though he did know Jerek Samsung's identity. Suddenly, a scary thought popped into his mind. What if Samsung was telling Dumbledore all about Harry buying those Dark Arts books? Dumbledore would be furious with Harry.

Dumbledore noticed the trio and he smiled broadly.

“Hello Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger. I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Jerek Samsung. He's a member of the Order.”

They all nodded a hi and Harry took it that Samsung had not revealed to Dumbledore that Harry had been buying Dark Arts books from him. Why was a member of the Order selling Dark Arts books? And if he was a member of the Order, why had he sold those books to Harry? It was very confusing.

Samsung gave no hint that he knew Harry and simply gave a nod to all of them.

“I guess we'll go upstairs,” Ron said.

The trio went upstairs and Ron closed the door behind them.

“That guy seemed a bit creepy,” said Hermione.

“Yeah,” said Ron, sitting down, “he looked like a bit of a weirdo.”

They both looked at Harry who hadn't said anything.

“Harry? What do you think?”

“Yeah, he's strange,” said Harry, who was still preoccupied over his previous questions.

Ron looked quizzically at Harry but didn't say any more. The topic wasn't breached again.

5. Return to Hogwarts

Chapter Five---Return to Hogwarts

September 1st dawned as a cold, cloudy day. The summer inhabitants of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place hurried around the house, grabbing their trunks and other necessary items for the upcoming school year. Luna nearly lost it when she realized she had lost her diary. Ron finally found it to save Luna from going into hysterics. It was the first time Harry had seen Luna demonstrating such emotion. Then again, a diary was a really good place for a person with two dead parents to express their feelings.

They finally made it out of the house and went up to the street where Tonks was waiting for them, in the guise of a handsome young man. When Ginny had asked her if she knew anyone like that, Tonks merely laughed and said it was the look of an old boyfriend she’d had in school.

The clock read ten-fifty when they reached the station.

“Now, all of you, be careful and don’t do anything dumb this year,” Mr. Weasley said, looking at the trio carefully, “be on your guard. This is a war. You all are potential soldiers. Be careful and don’t go looking for trouble…”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded, Ron with an imperceptible roll of his eyes.

“That applies to you too, Ginny. I want you to stay around your older brother and don’t go anywhere alone,” he added.

“Okay, Dad,” she said.

They went through the barrier, Ginny first. After dropping off their trunks in the luggage compartment, the trio began looking for a compartment to sit down in. Ginny had immediately headed off to sit with her new boyfriend Michael Corner.

“Hey, wait a minute, where’s Luna?” asked Ron.

“I thought she was right behind us,” Hermione said, looking puzzled.

Harry shrugged, “She’s probably all right. She probably doesn’t want to be baby-sitted everywhere by us.”

“Good point,” Ron said, “I wonder where Neville is. Think we should go find him and sit with him?”

“Sure.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione began looking for Neville Longbottom, a much-maligned and often clumsy person whom had nevertheless proven himself to be a very good wizard in the Department of Mysteries. Harry had found that he trusted Neville almost as much as his two best friends and Neville was definitely not one to betray that trust.

They finally found him sitting in a compartment with Luna. Neither was talking.

“Hey guys,” Ron said, sliding into a seat next to Luna.

“Hey,” they replied.

“Ron, we have to go to the prefects’ compartment,” Hermione reminded him.

Ron grimaced, but didn’t say anything. He followed Hermione out the door.

“So how was your summer, Neville?”

“All right,” he said, shrugging, “my grandmother was really upset when I told her that I had broken my father’s wand. She approved of us going in there, though.”

He didn’t bother to ask Harry how his summer had been.

Luna was still silent, staring out the window. An awkward silence fell over the compartment. Harry silently wondered why he felt so uncomfortable. Neville was his friend and so was Luna. Why was it so bloody awkward?

After nearly fifteen minutes, in which Harry silently read two chapters in Quidditch Through the Ages, Ron and Hermione reentered the compartment, both looking slightly frazzled.

“Malfoy’s vicious today,” Ron announced grimly, “he already got a couple of the newbie prefects to cry.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. Well, he couldn’t blame Malfoy for being in a bad mood. His family had no honor left in the wizarding community, and that was something the Malfoys had always prided on.

“Serves him right,” Luna said, before returning to her previous silence.

Ron looked questioningly at her, but she was humming some unknown tune and didn’t say anything. He looked at Neville and Harry who shrugged.

“Malfoy certainly did look smug about something though,” Hermione said, biting her lip, “it was as if he knew something we didn’t. He kept saying stuff like, ‘At least I know the dark secrets of my friends…’ It was really weird. Ron and I shook him off after a while, but it was really getting kind of annoying.”

Harry’s face betrayed nothing, but his insides were churning. Malfoy had seen him at Knockturn Alley. If he told Ron or Hermione…what could he say to Ron? To Hermione? He would have to admit that he had lied to them. They would not like that, especially Hermione.

“Who knows? He probably just wants you guys to turn on each other,” Neville said wisely, “besides, why listen to him? He’s an idiot and everybody in this room is worth twelve of him.”

Hermione nodded vigorously, before her eyes turned back to Harry. He seemed rather quiet…and pensive. It was as if he had something on his mind. She wasn’t sure what, but it definitely seemed to be bothering him.

“Well, if it isn’t the latest members of the poor house,” a sneering voice said.

They all looked up and saw Malfoy, with his two cronies standing on either side of him.

“Well, if it isn’t the idiot whose father was in jail,” Ron replied scathingly.

“At least he got out,” Malfoy said, with his eyebrows raised, “he’s got more brains than your father at least.”

“My father might be the next Minister of Magic,” Ron said, smirking at the look of horror on Malfoys’ face. He evidently hadn’t known that.

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” Neville added, “They’re having elections in two weeks on whether to kick Fudge out of office. If you vote ‘yes’ on that part, you can vote for a new candidate to step in. Ron’s dad’s leading the informal polling, even though the Prophet isn’t reporting that.”

Malfoy looked murderous, “Well, if Weasley makes Minister, it’ll be a hell of a lot easier for us to take England.”

“Don’t be too sure of that!” Harry said angrily.

“What, are you gonna use some of those curse books you got in Knockturn Alley on us?” Malfoy said, grinning at Harry’s look of surprise.

“WHAT?” Hermione shouted.

“Yes, it’s true, Mudblood. A week ago I met Potter in Knockturn Alley…according to one of my friends, he was buying curse books on how to inflict pain legally. What hypocrisy, eh Potter?”

Harry couldn’t say anything. Malfoy was telling the truth. If Hermione or Ron searched his trunk, they’d find them, because Samsung’s invisibility spell had worn off.

“Get out of here, Malfoy,” he snarled.

“As you wish,” Malfoy said, bowing sarcastically.

Harry slammed the door shut behind them and angrily turned to face them.

“Harry?” Hermione said in a soft voice.

“What?” he said angrily.

“Why were you----”

“It’s for Bellatrix Lestrange,” he said coldly, “and whenever I find her, I’m going to inflict every painful spell I can on her.”

Neville, he noticed, had changed his reaction from one of surprise and inquiry to one of agreement.

“But Harry,” Hermione said reasonably, “that’s sinking to their levels. That’s being no better than they are.”

“Dammit, I don’t care!” Harry exploded, “My godfather died because of her! SHE LAUGHED ABOUT IT! I’M GOING TO KILL HER IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! I’M SICK AND TIRED OF YOU AND RON ORDERING ME AROUND----”

“Leave me out of this,” Ron said, “I’m on your side on this one.”

“Isn’t that surprising?” Hermione asked scathingly, “You’re always on Harry’s side----always----remember two years ago, when you had a fight with Harry? You were jealous of him and you know what, you should be. He can actually formulate his own opinions. You just do whatever he says----”

Ron roared like a lion. Harry broke out of his rage to watch almost surreally as Ron angrily grabbed Hermione’s shoulders and started shaking her.

“Shut up, okay?! You’re such a goddamn know-it-all! You think you know everything, but you don’t! Otherwise you wouldn’t have been taken out so easily by Dolohov. Some help you were in the Department of Mysteries, eh?”

Hermione grabbed one of Ron’s arms and pushed him away, “I think I vaguely remember Luna telling me that you weren’t of much use either----you got taken out by some weirdo spell and acted like you were high for the rest of the time.”

“Get the hell out of here,” spat Ron, “you don’t belong here. Why don’t you go hang out with some Ravenclaw nerds? I’m sure you’ll be able to hook up with those geeks…maybe you’ll even score a date from Terry Boot! And then you can have sex with that----”

Hermione slapped Ron across the face, hard. Neville, Harry saw, was watching frightfully and edging away from them. Luna’s face remained serene, but he had noticed her eyes went wide when Hermione slapped Ron.

“Don’t you dare make such insinuations about me, you disgraceful, worthless----”

She suddenly turned on Harry, “I’m leaving this compartment----you two idiots don’t seem to understand common sense! I’ve had enough of arguing with you pair of fools---Harry, you’re sinking to their level and you know it. Ron, I’ve just had enough of you.”

Harry watched, stunned, as Hermione turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.

“Wow,” Neville whispered.

Ron was staring angrily at the spot where she had been, “Damn whore…thinks she can slap me around…she’s gonna have another think coming to her…”

Luna suddenly looked up sharply, “She’s right, you know. Neither of you is making much sense right now…and it was wrong of you to start shaking her.”

Ron rolled his eyes, “Great, now the crazy woman’s against us too.”

Harry was startled to see the tears in Luna’s eyes as she stood up, “I am not crazy, Ronald. I may have different views and opinions than you, but I am not crazy.”

Luna walked out of the compartment as well, wiping her face furiously.

“What, are you going to start next on us?” Ron asked scornfully to Neville.

Harry looked, expecting Neville to say nothing. Neville wasn’t the sort to pick fights. But he was in for a surprise.

“They’re right, okay? You guys are both acting stupid, degrading, and just plain nasty. Instead of insulting Malfoy so much, maybe you should look in the mirror.”

And with that, Neville walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Damn fools,” Ron said angrily, “who the hell do they think they are?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know why Hermione got so upset about me looking at some curse books. And I didn’t really expect Neville and Luna to leave so abruptly either.”

Ron also shrugged, “Ah, who cares? I guess it’s just me and you now…just like it was on our first train here.”

“Yeah.”

The rest of train ride passed by agonizingly slow. They had a large lunch, talked about Quidditch, but Harry silently found that he was missing Hermione. And Neville. Even Luna. Ron didn’t seem to be showing any remorse, but the last two hours of their train ride passed in silence.

Finally, they were able to get off and saw Hagrid’s looming form yelling out, “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! Hiya, Harry!”

“Hey Hagrid,” Harry said quietly.

“Where’s Hermione?” he asked, squinting at the pair of them.

Harry simply shrugged and knew from the look on Hagrid’s face that he would talk to them about it later. Ron and Harry got onto the carriage, Ron still looking wonderingly at the front, wishing he could see the thestrals. There carriage was empty, save for a couple of Hufflepuffs, Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones.

“Hey Harry!” they chorused.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Where’s Hermione?” asked Susan, frowning.

They shrugged. Ernie and Susan shared a look, but Harry couldn’t read it.

“Are we still having the D.A.?” asked Ernie.

“Yep,” Harry said, “once a week, I think.”

“Cool,” said Susan, “do you know who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be?”

Even though he did know, Harry simply shrugged. In his opinion, Kingsley Shacklebolt was going to be a great teacher. In particular, he couldn’t wait until the private lessons.

The carriage pulled up in front of the school and the two Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs got out, heading towards the front entrance. They exchanged good-byes as they headed to their separate tables in the Great Hall.

“It’s good to be back,” Ron said, happily looking around.

“Tell me about it.”

Harry noticed with a slightly sad eye that Hermione and Neville sat as far as they could get from Harry and Ron. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. What if Hermione and Neville were more than just friends? Who cares? It’s not like you like her or anything, he reminded himself. And that was a comforting thought to him.

He looked up to the front of the room, his eyes falling on Albus Dumbledore. For the first time in two months, he felt a little bit more secure. Suddenly he remembered his talk with Dumbledore at the end of last year. Dumbledore wasn’t perfect and he did make mistakes. Hell, he had made the one that had cost Sirius his life.

“Welcome, welcome! I’m glad to see that you have all returned for another year at Hogwarts…let us commence with the Sorting!”

Harry watched disinterestedly as people began being Sorted into their respective houses.

“Wish we could cut the junk and get straight to the food,” Ron said, tapping his foot impatiently.

Harry nodded vigorously. The Sorting, which had been interesting when he was in it, had lost a lot of its luster in his eyes. The song this year was a boring, typical one, unlike the weird warning issued by the hat last year.

“Think that means we’re gonna have a pleasant year?” Ron asked.

“I doubt it.”

Finally “Yarmouth, Kevin!” was Sorted into Hufflepuff and the Sorting was over. Dumbledore stood up.

“I’m sure you all are very hungry, so I am not going to waste your time with the words of an old man. Tuck in.”

Food magically appeared on the plates and Harry helped himself to large portions of roast chicken and mashed potatoes. Ron, he saw, was stuffing his face with drumsticks. He secretly glanced at Hermione and saw her chatting with Neville merrily, eating her food more gently than Ron was (Harry ducked to avoid a flying piece of meat from Ron’s mouth). Harry suddenly felt a pang of annoyance and jealousy. Hermione was not supposed to be laughing and talking with other people. She was supposed to be with him and Ron, laughing at their jokes, not Neville’s.

Ron saw where Harry’s eyes were looking and snorted derisively, “Forget her. She’ll come crawling back sooner or later. You still don’t like her, do you?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry replied, “I don’t even think I ever did.”

“Good.”

After several treacle tarts, Harry’s stomach felt like it was going to explode. Wouldn’t that be a blessing for Voldemort, he thought absent-mindedly. As the last of the desserts cleared away from the table, Dumbledore stood up.

“Before you head off to the comforts of your dormitories, I would like to say a few words. First, as always, Mr. Filch has a list of items that are not to be in this school, and not following these rules can result in detentions. Second, as many of you know, the Minister has acknowledged the return of Lord Voldemort. I would like to remind you to be ever vigilant and unite together, as a house divided against itself cannot stand. That was a phrase uttered by a Muggle American President, and there is truth to what he says. If we bicker and fight amongst the houses, we make ourselves vulnerable to attacks by the Dark Lord and his minions. And lastly, I’d like to introduce to you our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

Kingsley got a big round of applause. Many students who had fathers or mothers working in the Ministry knew that Kingsley was an Auror and a good one.

“Kingsley was an Auror and he is here to help oversee the school,” Dumbledore said, and then with a twinkle in his eye, he added, “but I don’t foresee him become a High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.”

There was laughter around the Great Hall. Dumbledore smiled benignly at them before saying, “Off to bed, now! First years, follow your prefects!”

Harry watched as Ron and Hermione, who were both studiously ignoring the other, gather the first years and begin walking them to the Tower. Harry took the shortcut behind the tapestry and reached the Tower in a few minutes. Not wanting to talk to Hermione, he headed straight up to the dormitory. Neville’s covers, he noticed were drawn.

“Hey, Harry, how was your summer?” Dean asked, who was re-sticking his West Ham poster to the wall.

“Okay, I guess. How’d you do on your O.W.L.S.?”

“I got eleven and Seamus got ten. Not too bad. What about you?”

“Thirteen. But I still have to get an extra class. I don’t what it is yet.”

“Really?” Seamus asked, “Dean and I both got ours. We got stuck with Divination again.”

Harry laughed, “I hope I don’t get that either. I think that’s what Ron got too.”

Speaking of Ron, the redhead came into the dormitory, rolling his eyes.

“Bloody first years,” he said, flopping onto his bed.

“You’re the prefect,” Seamus pointed out.

“Yeah, but they’re so bloody annoying. They think they’re the greatest things to walk through these halls. We sure weren’t like that. And they’re so short! One of them barely came up to my waist! And Hermione was treating them like they were little angels…”

The four boys laughed and Dean said, “That’s a girl for you.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, lying down on his bed.

“Night, guys,” Seamus said.

The lights turned off and Harry soon fell asleep. He had a very strange dream. He was standing in a room, with a torch in his hand and was shooting this green light out of the torch. When he woke up the next morning, he had no memory of it.

***

Harry and Ron strolled into the Great Hall for breakfast, neither wanting to hurry. Classes were starting today. The timetables were being passed out among the tables and Harry grabbed his.

“Hmmm…we got our private lessons with Kingsley on here,” Harry said, “look, Defense Against the Dark Arts today!”

“Awesome!” Ron said, “but I’ve also got Divination.”

“I don’t,” said Harry, looking oddly at his schedule, “look, I’ve got N.E.W.T. Potions!”

“You didn’t qualify!” Ron said, looking closely at Harry’s schedule.

“I know…maybe Dumbledore pulled some strings or something. Wait a minute…that means Snape for Potions and Occlumency. This is shaping up to be a great year!” Harry added sarcastically.

“Well, what do you have first?”

“Double Potions, then lunch, then N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts, then my private lesson with Kingsley.”

“Okay, I’ve got Double Divination and then Defense with you. Private lesson as well,” Ron said, “I guess we should go to the class.”

“Have fun with Trelawney,” Harry said, winking at his best friend.

“She’s better than Snape,” Ron retorted.

Harry found himself silently agreeing as he trudged to the dungeons. Today was Monday, so assuming that Snape was having Occlumency the same day as last year, he might have Snape on the same day twice.

He walked into the Potions room and saw that it was nearly empty. Draco Malfoy and another Slytherin were sitting in a corner of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves. There was another Ravenclaw girl sitting near them. He sat down as far away from Malfoy as he could. Hermione then walked in. She looked around and saw that there were only the two Slytherins, the one Ravenclaw, and Harry also in the class. She sat down a few seats to the right of Harry.

“Well, if it isn’t the Dream Team,” Snape said, leering at Harry and Hermione, “why are you sitting so far away from each other? Oh, maybe Potter’s understood what filth the Mudblood his.”

Harry glanced to his right and saw that Hermione’s eyes were filling up with silent tears, but she was bravely trying to hold them in. Harry, however, lost his temper.

“Shut up!” Harry shouted.

“What did you say, Potter?” Snape asked in a dangerously silky voice.

Harry could feel Malfoy’s sneering eyes on his back, but ignored it. Malfoy wasn’t someone he had to worry about.

“I told you to shut up, okay? Leave off all the Mudblood and the Granger insults, all right? She’s the smartest witch in the school! Her blood doesn’t make any difference! She’s going to be a better wizard than you and I’m going to laugh at you when she does that! Pure blood, eh?”

Snape’s black eyes were flashing in a loathing way that Harry had never seen before. He became vaguely aware of the fact that he should probably sit down. He followed this instruction.

“Potter, I think that costs Gryffindor fifty points and you can join me for a week’s worth of detentions.”

Harry realized that he was going to have to miss his first private lessons with Kingsley, since those were scheduled for Monday and Friday. Snape turned his back on the class for a few seconds, evidently to recompose himself. Harry cautiously turned his eyes to where Hermione was sitting. Her eyes were shining with admiration and she beamed at him. Harry smiled nervously back.

“All right, the first important thing about sixth year N.E.W.T. Potions that you must know is that most of you will fail. This year, I only have one student in my seventh year N.E.W.T. Potions class. I don’t expect that trend to stop. Already, you can see that the weak have been weeded out from among us…except for Mr. Potter, of course.”

Harry smiled blandly at Snape. He had to keep his cool.

“Mr. Potter had to ah…revert to other methods to get into this class. But no matter, even the Headmaster’s urging will not allow you to be in my seventh year class.”

Harry continued to keep his bland smile on, but his insides were fuming. Great. More ammunition for Malfoy to use against him.

“Secondly, this year is spent mostly on making your own potion. At the end of the year, you will turn it in, along with the antidote. This will be fifty percent of your exam grade. The other fifty percent will be based on the readings you will have for homework throughout the year. To be in my seventh year class, you must get ninety percent or above.”

Harry grimaced. Snape was right. There was no way that he could possibly make a potion that wouldn’t get a zero from Snape. And he wasn’t creative enough to make a good one, anyway. He was doomed.

“However, you are allowed to work with a partner. I will not choose your partner, but neither shall you,” Snape said, “the Sorting Hat will choose.”

Harry grimaced. The Sorting Hat would probably decide to put him and Malfoy together to promote “unity” or something.

“Malfoy, you first.”

Malfoy confidently swaggered up to the Hat and jammed it on his head.

“Millicent Bulstrode!”

Malfoy, with the grimace evident on his face, walked over to the gigantic Slytherin sixth year. That left the Ravenclaw, Harry, and Hermione.

“Since there’s only three of you, you will work in a group of three,” Snape said, grimacing, “but, since there is three of you, your standard will be higher and I will grade you harder.”

Great, thought Harry. He smiled at Hermione and they both motioned for the Ravenclaw girl to come sit with them.

“Hi, I’m Kalie Lane,” she said, smiling. She was pretty and blond.

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione said, “and this is the famous Harry Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Don’t mind her. She’s just happy she’s so close to me.”

Hermione gave him a fake shove and they both laughed. Kalie laughed even harder.

“You two act like a married couple,” she said.

Harry blushed and saw that Hermione’s cheeks were tinged with pink as well and they both said, “Er…”

Kalie shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. I mean, you must know about the betting that goes on you two.”

“What?” squawked Hermione.

Kalie looked puzzled, “You mean you don’t? Oh, come on, there’s bets on when you’ll go out, when you’ll kiss, and Zacharias Smith even takes bets on when you guys will lose your virginity to each other.”

If it was possible, Harry turned even more crimson, “Well…you see…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you guys haven’t gone out yet,” she said, “that’s good. I’ve got you down for the end of sixth year. Kissing I’ve got you for beginning of seventh year, and losing your virginity, I have you down for the end of the seventh year.”

Harry’s mind was slowly trying to accumulate all this new information. People had bets on when they were going to go out or kiss? And he felt himself go redder when he thought of the virginity bet.

“That’s ridiculous,” Hermione said, stating what was in Harry’s mind.

Kalie shrugged, “It’s true, though. Ernie Macmillan lost twenty Galleons last year, because he said you were going to date on Valentine’s Day last year.”

Harry felt guilty. Maybe he should refund Ernie. It wasn’t his fault…but then again, he thought, it was ridiculous that these people were making bets about his personal lives.

“Rumor has it that Dumbledore himself took up a bet with Zacharias on the virginity thing,” she added.

Hermione’s face was twisted in a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“No way,” Harry said, “I don’t believe that.”

“It’s just rumor,” Kalie said.

“Anyway,” said Hermione, “let’s get to work. What kind of potion do you think we should make?”

“I don’t know, why don’t we look in these books?”

For the rest of the class, Harry, Hermione, and Kalie looked through their Potions books, making notes and book marking pages. When the bell finally rung, Harry felt like his eyes were going to be cross-eyed if he looked through any more pages.

Harry and Hermione walked out of the class together, but before she could start walking to the Great Hall, Harry spun her around so she would face him.

“Hermione, listen…I’m sorry,” he said, “I was being dumb and immature. Can you please forgive me?”

Hermione smiled at him, “Of course, Harry. I don’t like that you have those curse books…but I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“No problem.”

“Er…Hermione? I don’t really think that Ron’s ready to make peace with you…” Harry said.

“That’s okay. When the selfish git wants to make peace, he can do it himself. I certainly am not going to beg for his friendship back.”

Just what he needed. To be the middleman between his friends. He knew that Ron would be upset that Harry had made a truce with Hermione and Hermione wouldn’t hang out with him if Ron was nearby.

They walked to the Great Hall together, smiling at each other every few feet. Harry felt strange. It was the oddest feeling in the world…he felt like he was in bliss. He tried half-heartedly to shake it off, but it didn’t work.

“Harry?” she said.

They were in front of the double doors.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for standing up for me today,” Hermione said, “that was really brave of you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, “the slimy git deserved it.”

Hermione smiled softly at him and put her hand on his shoulder. Harry was about to open his mouth to question what she was doing, but stopped when he saw the expression on Hermione’s face.

Before he could stop her, she threw her arms around him in a very awkward hug. Harry uncomfortably hugged her back, very aware of the eager faces looking at them.

“Er…Hermione? Everyone’s looking at us.”

Hermione seemed to jolt to her senses and she hurriedly took her arms away from Harry’s neck.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

They headed into the Great Hall, whispers firing back and forth across behind them. Ron, they saw, was sitting at the Gryffindor Table, saving Harry a seat.

“Hermione? Is it okay if I----”

“Go ahead. I’ll sit with Neville,” she said and smiled gently at him again before walking over to where Neville was sitting.

“Snape gave me detention for a week,” he informed Ron.

“Git.”

“Tell me about it. When are we going to have Quidditch Tryouts?”

“I don’t know…ask Katie.”

Harry scanned around the table but didn’t see her, “I’m also going to be missing my lessons with Kingsley.”

“Damn, that sucks. Maybe he can give you like an hour-long one on the weekend.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll talk to him after class,” Harry said.

Ron and Harry walked down the corridors towards their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He noticed that Hermione was walking with Neville, but she gave him a quick smile before they moved ahead of Ron and Harry. Harry noticed that Ron made a face at Hermione’s back.

They finally reached the classroom and Harry and Ron got a seat in the front.

“This is going to be awesome,” Ron whispered.

“Yeah.”

The class was silent as they waited for their new professor. The seats in the front were filled to capacity, with only Malfoy and a few of his cronies sitting in the back. Harry looked around. Most of the class was a member of the D.A. Only Malfoy and his buddies and a few assorted Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had also made it into N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The lights turned out. There were gasps heard around the room and Harry thought he heard a girl scream.

“Silence!” Harry shouted. The class obeyed.

“Lumos,” he muttered.

A flickering light came out of his wand and he could clearly see the anxious faces in the class looking back at him.

“This isn’t such a big deal,” Harry said, mainly aiming his lesson towards the members of the D.A., “you can’t lose your heads----”

A cold air seemed to rush into the room. Harry whirled around and gasped. A dementor was gliding towards him. The class was now dreadfully silent. Harry could feel the rushing in his ears----

Think happy thoughts! Harry cast around for a happy thought, but couldn’t think of one. He heard Hermione try to cast a Patronus, but all she got was a silver wisp. Harry wasn’t surprised. She had produced a corporeal Patronus during the D.A. lessons last year, but conjuring one when a dementor was near you was a whole different level.

The dementor was focusing on him, Harry noticed. It was starting to lower its hood----This can’t be happening! Harry’s mind panicked.

Finally, his mind found a happy thought. Sirius was alive! Forcing an image of his dead godfather alive and happy into his mind, Harry shouted, “Expecto Patronum!”

A silver stag shot out of his wand and cantered towards the dementor driving it back. The dementor backed away.

“That will be all,” he heard a voice say.

Kingsley Shacklebolt walked into the room, smiling. With a flick of his wand, the lights were turned back on. Harry looked closely at the dementor and realized it was really Tonks.

“To----” Harry was about to say, before Hermione clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Thank you for that demonstration, Nymphadora,” Kingsley said, smiling at the awestruck and fearful faces of the students.

“Nymphadora here is a Metamorphmagus. She can change shape to become anything she wants. She had to work hard to transform into a dementor, but the point was made.”

Malfoy raised a shivering hand.

“Yes, Draco?”

“But the cold air---” he managed.

“Simple,” Kingsley said, fingering his wand, “I simply cast a spell to send cold air into this room. Some of you might have noticed that you were not thinking dreadful thoughts. But some of you might have remembered horrible times in your lives? Why is this? Tonks isn’t a dementor, right? So why would you remember these things?”

The class was silent. Then, Hermione raised her hand.

“Hermione?”

“Is it because our mind reminds us of these things? We recognize the dementor and realize we will be thinking terrible thoughts in our head. So we naturally are thinking of the horrible things that have happened in our lives. Tonks didn’t have to conjure the bad thoughts; we did it ourselves.”

“Correct. Five points to Gryffindor,” Kingsley said, “some of you might have been able to resist that. Good for you. But others of you may have found your worst memories circling in your heads. This is not a bad thing. Most wizards would do the same thing. One thing I hope to do in my teaching is to improve your abilities and lessen your fear enough that you will not be afraid of dementors or anything else that faces you.”

“But why did you do that, sir?” a Ravenclaw Harry didn’t know asked.

Kingsley smiled, showing his magnificent teeth, “To teach you. Did you notice that only Harry was able to do anything? The rest of you sat there, unable to move, unable to think. I know that some of you were in the D.A. Why didn’t you try something, anything? Hermione attempted to cast a Patronus, which she has done before, but she was so paralyzed by her fear that she could not cast it. I am here to help you get rid of that fear. Even Harry, you’d notice, took a while before he did anything. I’m not sure why, but whatever it was, while Harry was struggling, the rest of you just sat there, waiting for him to save you. What if it wasn’t Tonks, but a real dementor? What if Harry is incapacitated or can’t produce the Patronus? Are you just going to sit there and wait for something? Action, not reaction!”

The class sat in awe, absorbing Kingsley’s lessons. Tonks, meanwhile, has disappeared, presumably to go back to the Ministry.

“I know that you all did absolutely nothing last year,” he said, which brought grins to the faces of most of the students, “so, since you spent all of last year on books, we’re going to spend all of this year using our wands.”

Ron and Harry traded smiles.

“First off, pair off into groups of two and find a place in the classroom. Yes, that’s it.”

Harry and Ron stood up and moved to the side of the classroom. Neville evidently hadn’t wanted to be paired with Hermione, so he had partnered with Lavender. Parvati and Hermione were standing next to each other.

“All right,” he said, “I want you to do your best attempt at dueling. You must Stun the other person to win. Start.”

Harry and Ron faced each other, grinning slightly.

“Furnuncula!” Ron started the action.

Harry dodged it easily and shouted back, “Stupefy!”

Ron couldn’t get out of the way fast enough and fell back, Stunned. Harry leaned over and revived him. He pulled him up off the floor and Ron grinned at him. They both knew Harry had had a way too easy victory. Harry looked around at the other battles. Hermione had already finished Parvati off and Neville had taken care of a very surprised Lavender. Malfoy had also won his battle easily. Finally, each pair finished.

“Good,” Kingsley said, checking his watch, “now for homework, I want you to describe the duel and anything you could’ve done differently. I also want you to research a parchment’s worth of information about any famous dueling champion.”

There were a few groans, but the class picked up its bags to leave. Ron gave Harry the thumbs-up sign and Harry walked up to Kingsley’s desk.

“Sir?” Harry asked.

“Yes, what is it, Harry?” Kingsley asked, putting away a few papers.

“I got a week’s worth of detentions from Snape, so I’m going to be missing our private lessons today and on Friday. Is there any way we could reschedule?”

Kingsley shook his head, “I’m sorry, Harry, but I’m really busy. Those nights where I teach you are my only free nights. Listen, I’ll talk to Professor Snape. Maybe we can defer those two detentions to next week.”

Harry nodded happily, “OK, thanks.”

Ron was waiting outside for him, “Well?”

“He said he’ll talk to Snape about deferring the detentions?”

“Fat chance,” Ron said.

“Well…if Dumbledore steps in,” Harry said, “I mean, after all, I shouldn’t even be in N.E.W.T. Potions; Dumbledore just told Snape to put me in there.”

“Lucky you, eh?” Ron asked, but something about the way he said that made Harry think that Ron wasn’t entirely happy about Dumbledore’s favoritism of Harry.

6. Lessons with Kingsley

Author’s Note: Frankly, I am sick and tired of people posting saying that it’s too “sexual” or whatever for them. HELLO! The rating is PG-13…and don’t even think about suggesting that this should be R (not yet anyway---it may be later)…movies with sex scenes in them (such as Die Another Day) are rated PG-13 and there’s only a little bit of innuendo, some sexual references, and such in this. So if you’re going to be prude, go to a G or PG story. Stay away from here. Also, you people posting about not liking H/Hr…THIS IS NOT AN R/HR SITE! This is an H/Hr site and frankly, I’m gonna post whatever H/Hr I want. Sorry if I sound so ticked, it’s just really annoying… Oh yes, I’m gonna attempt Hagrid-speak, but it won’t be exact! I’m trying my best! As for the rest of you fans are have been waiting patiently for this, I’m sorry for delaying so long…I had writer’s block and have been very busy.

Chapter Six---Lessons with Kingsley

Ron left the common room at six-thirty, giving Harry the thumbs-up sign. Once he had left, Hermione came over and sat next to him.

“I can’t wait for my lesson,” Harry murmured, happily aware of the fact that Snape had had to defer his two detentions this week to Tuesday and Wednesday next week.

“Yeah,” Hermione replied, tapping he foot impatiently, “I just want Ron to hurry up so I can go.”

“And I go last of all,” Harry said somewhat anxiously, “oh well, nothing I can do about it…”

They sat in silence for twenty minutes until Hermione left for the Defense classroom with a quick smile. When Ron returned, he refused to tell Harry anything, telling him just to wait until it was his turn. This only served to make Harry more anxious.

When it was finally time to go, Harry almost bolted out of the common room. He reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and saw that Hermione was just coming out.

“How was it?”

“Amazing, you’ll love it, Harry,” she said, with a smile.

Excited, Harry went into the classroom. Kingsley was waiting for him and smiling.

“Hello, Harry,” he said, “please sit down.”

Harry did as he was told.

“As you know, when you fight Dark Lord, your wands become connected---they are brothers and it is impossible for you to fight one another properly. The Dark Lord understands this and is beginning to try and find other ways to kill you; by hand, by knife, etc. The object of these lessons are to teach you how to defend yourself properly. I am teaching you hand-to-hand combat. This will be immensely valuable in your upcoming battles with him.”

“But what about Ron and Hermione? Why do they have to learn this?” Harry asked.

“To be honest with you,” he said, “if they’re facing a wizard of greater skill than them, as many of the Death Eaters are, they can find themselves Disarmed. They must learn how to defend themselves without a wand and also how to improve their reflexes so much that they’ll be able to dodge spells with relative ease. And we also felt it would be easier for you, if you had some training partners.”

Harry nodded.

“Now,” he said, clearing away the desks, “hit me.”

“What?”

“Hit me,” Kingsley repeated, “use your fists and try to hit me.”

Feeling a bit uncertain, Harry led out with a weak punch. Kingsley stopped it with his left hand and socked Harry in the stomach with his right. Harry flopped to the floor, the wind knocked out of him.

“Come on,” Kingsley said, “fight with every bit of energy in your body. Pretend I’m Draco Malfoy.”

Harry stood up and tried to imagine the white-faced ferret. Satisfied with the image, Harry began punching at Kingsley, his speed increasing. Kingsley continued to block the punches, but Harry was improving. Finally, Kingsley grabbed Harry’s hand and threw him to the floor.

“Good, Harry,” he said, “you’re learning well. Now, I want you to watch me fight and learn.”

Kingsley walked over to a cabinet and opened it. A boggart stepped out and immediately rearranged itself into the shape of Lord Voldemort. Harry watched, impressed, as Kingsley used his fists and legs to continually beat the boggart/Voldemort back.

“Now, fight me again,” Kingsley said, “don’t think how fast you are. Know how fast you are.”

Harry began kicking and punching the bald man, but he still could not get a hit on him. Twenty minutes later, he stopped and collapsed to the ground.

“Good start, Harry,” Kingsley said, “I want you to read up a little bit on the martial arts for Friday and learn a few things about judo and tae kwon do. You’re doing much better so far than Hermione and Ron.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, and he walked out of the room, his shirt soaked through with sweat.

Ron and Hermione were sitting on opposite ends of the common room, but Harry naturally had to go sit with Ron.

“That was awesome, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “this is going to be a lot of fun, I think.”

Ron nodded, “Maybe one day Malfoy’ll challenge us to a fight…” He broke off as he thought of whipping Malfoy, with a dreamy smile on his face, “That would be great…”

Harry laughed, but his eyes were on Hermione. She was reading a book, but she obviously wanted to discuss the lessons with at least Harry, if not Ron. She was probably bursting to talk about it.

“Listen, Ron…do you think we should forgive Hermione?”

Ron looked oddly at him, “I thought you didn’t like her.”

“Ron,” Harry said firmly, “Hermione’s our friend. Yeah, we all got mad yesterday…but I think we should forgive one another and let bygones be bygones.”

Ron shook his head, “That little…you-know-what…says that I can’t formulate my own opinions. What the hell does she know about it? I usually agree with you, because you’re right, not because of stupidity.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether he disagreed or not. Ron could form his own opinions…but often when it was just Harry and Hermione in an argument, he would side with Harry for fear of Harry’s wrath.

“But come on, Ron, you know it’s not as much fun with her avoiding us. And Neville too.”

“Look, I don’t care. I’m going to bed.”

Harry watched as Ron stormed off to bed, presumably very unhappy that Harry had even suggested that they reconcile with the former third member of their trio. Once Ron had left, Hermione came and sat down next to Harry.

“I take it you asked him to forgive me,” Hermione said, “although I don’t know what’s there to forgive. I certainly didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just being immature…”

Harry held up his hand, “Please, Hermione, can you not start listing Ron’s faults? It’s annoying for me to be stuck in the middle between you two, listening to your constant complaining about the other.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said sincerely, and then changed the subject, “what do you think about those lessons?”

Harry smiled enthusiastically, “They’re awesome! I think this could really help us in the fight against Voldemort…especially me. We can’t use our wands on each other, so being more physically able would be a definite advantage.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, “I have to agree. It’s a good workout too. I wonder how good we’ll become at fighting.”

“Hopefully, at least as good as Kingsley,” Harry said, “it kind of sucks that we got homework in it, though.”

Hermione shrugged, “I don’t mind. It’ll be interesting reading up on that stuff I think.”

Harry looked at his watch. It was only nine o’clock. Ron had gone to bed rather early, but he had been mad.

“Hey, Hermione, do you want to go for a walk?”

Hermione looked surprised, “Where?”

“I don’t know…around the school, maybe.”

“Okay.”

They got out their evening cloaks and stepped out of the portrait hole. Together, they began walking in no particular direction, just enjoying the feeling of moving and being together.

“What do you think the best advice your mother ever gave you was?”

Hermione looked thoughtfully at the ground, before saying, “‘Learn to love as you want to be loved.’ It really is deep and I always think about it before I go to bed each night. I want to find a person to love one day, and consummate everything with him. Love is the most important thing one can have and I really want to be able to cherish it and enjoy it.”

Harry thought about love. It seemed as if everyone he had loved had died. Sirius. His parents. Yet, he knew that he still loved Ron and Hermione, though in a friendly way. But they weren’t dead. Harry silently reminded himself that they had been lucky. Both his friends could easily have expired before they reached their sixteenth birthdays (of course, Hermione still hadn’t reached hers yet.) But real love? As in, jump-in-the-air-for-joy love? He had never experienced that. Not with Cho. Not with anyone. He shook his head silently. He doubted he ever would. His purpose in life was to defeat Voldemort.

“Do you think you’ll find love?” he asked her.

Hermione shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes I think I already have.”

Harry didn’t know what she meant by that, but he didn’t bother trying to decipher it too much. It probably was about Krum or something like that.

It was getting late. They needed to return to the common rooms. Harry and Hermione walked back to Gryffindor Tower and parted at their respective dormitories, their minds still on love.

***

The next day dawned, rainy and cloudy. Ron still was angry with Harry and didn’t speak with him at breakfast. This only led Harry to become angry as well. He didn’t need to put up with Ron’s childishness right now. So, after breakfast, he walked over to Hermione and they walked to Transfiguration together.

They sat down near the front, Harry acquiescing to Hermione’s wishes. Ron came in and sat near the back, not wanting to talk with either. The rest of the class filed in, Draco Malfoy also entering, much to the disdain of Harry.

“Sixth year Transfiguration is possibly the most difficult class you will have in your years at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, “many key concepts will be covered in here. If you don’t get it now, you never will. Much of what we learn this year will apply to next year, and make it much easier. This class is difficult and I urge you to stay on top of things. Today, I want you to read the first three chapters in your textbook. While this may seem like drudgery to you, this is highly important and you must understand the concepts in these chapters. You will be tested on them next period.”

Grumbling, the class pulled out their books and began reading. Harry read slowly, wanting to make sure he understood everything. The concepts didn’t seem that difficult to him, but he was sure the application was much harder. Hermione was zipping through the pages at almost a heart-pumping rate. By the time class was over, she had read it four times.

“Why do you go so fast?”

Hermione shrugged, “It’s easier that way.”

Harry smiled at her, and they walked down to lunch together. Ron sat far away from them, but Harry noticed this with only a slight bit of caring. Ron would get over it, eventually. He was too good-natured at heart not to.

Hermione propped her Arithmancy book against her pumpkin juice jug. She had that class this afternoon, but luckily, Harry didn’t have anything. He was going to use the time to go fly out in the stadium.

Or so he thought.

Just as he was about to leave the Great Hall, Snape caught him by the arm.

“Potter, come to my office now.”

Harry had no choice but to follow him. Hermione gave a sympathetic look at him, but she had to turn and head to Vector’s classroom. He followed the greasy git into the Potions Master’s office.

“Much as I hate to inform you of this,” Snape said, “your Occlumency classes will take place during this time period. Not after classes, as you previously thought. You see, we both have Tuesday afternoons off. So Dumbledore thought it might be…beneficial…if we did Occlumency during this time.”

Harry nodded, silently cursing Dumbledore. He may have been a great Headmaster, but on this one, Harry had to take the opposing viewpoint.

“You will still report for detention in tonight in the Potions classroom,” Snape added, “though you may have connections with the Defense Against the Dark Arts ‘teacher’, you will still serve as many detentions as you were supposed to. As I suspect you know, you will serve them next Tuesday and Wednesday.”

Harry nodded again, bored.

“Well, let’s see how well you’ve practiced over the summer,” Snape taunted, knowing full well Harry had done nothing of the sort.

Harry tried to resolve himself and set him a shield against Snape. But it was useless. Snape said, “Legilimens!” and he could feel a rush of images permeate through his head…Ron laughing as they walked along at Hogsmeade together, the Shrieking Shack just ahead, in their third year…Hermione lying on the floor of the Department of Mysteries, looking dead…Neville finding her pulse, the sigh of relief…Hermione----wait, he was about to lie in bed with her…He did not want Snape to see that and get the wrong impressions. Angrily, he tried to set up an image of a brick wall.

“Good, Potter,” Snape said, withdrawing and leaving Harry shaking on his knees, “finally, some progress. While a brick wall is an adequate start, I would’ve easily broken it down if I wanted to. It also tells the Legilimencer that you’re actively trying to block them, which will only reaffirm their focus. You need to have a void…absolutely nothing. Empty your emotions and feelings.”

Harry felt his confidence go up a notch. He had done okay. He could only get better.

“Legilimens!”

The images started going again, though Harry tried to set up a void…Sirius laughing…Sirius humming some Christmas tune…feeding Buckbeak…laughing at Bellatrix Lestrange…

“NOOOO!” Harry was brought back to Earth, by his knees crashing into the ground as he desperately tried to block out the image of Sirius dying at the hands of Voldemort’s minion.

“It hurt, didn’t it?” Snape asked, his black eyes glittering, “Potter, that will only show weakness to the Dark Lord. You must focus.”

Harry glared from the floor up at Snape, trying to fight off the tears. The git just didn’t understand. He was acting like it was just an exercise. He couldn’t forget about Sirius. Ever.

“Again,” he ordered, and Harry pulled himself off the floor, “Legilimens!”

This time Harry got the brick wall going again. It held for a few seconds before Snape crashed through bringing some more memories through. Valentine’s Day with Cho (Harry was sure he thought he heard Snape sneer)…Ron and Hermione dropping sweets all over his bed after coming back from Hogsmeade…the Deathday Party…the veil…the Deathday party again…He felt Snape relinquish his grip on him.

“What was that party about? Who were those ghosts?”

“It was this thing in the second year,” Harry explained, rubbing his sore knees, “I went to the 500th Deathday anniversary for Nearly Headless Nick.”

Snape nodded, seeming uninterested, “That’s enough for today, Potter. Go and rest your weak body. Every night, before you go to bed, release your emotions. Don’t feel or think.”

Hermione was waiting for Harry in the common room when he came back, “What did he want with you?”

“Nothing, that’s just when our Occlumency lessons will be,” Harry said, “Tuesday afternoons.”

“How was it?”

“Not a lot of fun,” Harry replied, “I got up a brick wall, but he got through it easily.”

Hermione nodded sympathetically, “Maybe you should look up some things in the library. It could help.”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know. It seems like a lot of work to me. I’m going to go rest before detention tonight.”

“Okay. Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

***

“Mr. Potter…again,” Snape said silkily.

“I don’t much enjoy being here either, Professor,” Harry said curtly.

Snape smiled vindictively, “Potter, for your little insurrection yesterday, you will be pickling these horned toads. All of them. Without magic.”

Harry grimaced. There were nearly two barrels full of toads.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Snape said, walking out the door. Harry cursed after him and turned to the toads.

“Okay, toads,” Harry said, “let’s get some pickling done.”

For the best part of an hour, Harry sat in a desk and pickled toad after toad after toad. Occasionally, Snape would drop in, smile without remorse at Harry, and then leave. All in all, it was annoying Harry. But he had to do it.

Finally, the two barrels were done and Harry stood up, horn marks all over his arms and pickle juice on his body.

“Ah, you’ve finished,” Snape said, “no doubt that you did a horrible job. Come back here tomorrow for your next detention. You are free to go.”

Harry left as fast his legs could carry him, intent upon reaching Gryffindor Tower. He wanted to take a shower. The common room was devoid of people, except for Ron and Hermione, sitting at opposite ends of the room.

“How was it?” Ron asked.

Harry just shook his head, “I need to take a shower. Then, I’ll be back down to talk to you. Both of you.”

Ron and Hermione stared at one another and then at Harry, but he was already gone, heading into the shower. Eleven minutes later, he got out, refreshed and feeling good. They were still waiting for him in the common room.

“I think both of you need to apologize for two days ago,” Harry said, “Hermione, you say that you didn’t say anything wrong, but you did. You told Ron that he had no opinion and that he was just my minion. You know that’s incorrect…and it’s uncalled for. Ron, you need to apologize to Hermione for saying the stuff that you did to her. It was rude and also untrue.”

Ron and Hermione just stared at each other, unable to apologize.

“Come on, dammit!” Harry shouted, “I’m both of your best friends and it’s bloody hard going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth! Think about me for once, would you? You two are like a pair of five year old siblings!”

Hermione blushed, and Ron’s face was a deep shade of magenta.

“Sorry,” Ron muttered in the direction of Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Come on, you can do better than that.”

“Sorry,” he said, his voice a little louder.

“Sorry,” Hermione said back.

“Now, can we go back to being normal?” Harry asked.

Ron and Hermione nodded. Just the sight of their scared faces made Harry start laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Ron asked.

“You two…” he said, “you look like you’re completely scared of me! Come on, just do it, because you know it’s right. Not because I’m telling you to.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, “sorry for everything, Ron. I didn’t really mean it.”

“Neither did I,” Ron replied.

“Now hug,” Harry commanded.

They hugged, laughing a little bit. Hermione drew Harry into their circle and the trio was rejoined once more, no longer separated by petty squabbles.

“Tomorrow, I want you to apologize to Luna and Neville,” Harry told Ron.

“Okay, you’re right.”

***

When Harry walked into the Great Hall the next day, he was surprised to come upon the sight of Luna hugging Ron. Ron was blushing furiously as the girl was practically dancing to hear that Ron hadn’t really meant what he had said to her on the train. Then again, he must have been enjoying it, because Harry certainly didn’t see any attempt by him to extricate himself from the hug.

He sat down next to Hermione and muttered, “Aren’t they a cute couple?”

Hermione laughed, “I hardly think so. Ron’s too hot-tempered for Luna.”

“You never know,” Harry said, shrugging.

A few second later, Ron joined them, his face as red as his hair.

“Looks like you were enjoying that, Ron,” said Harry, pouring himself some pumpkin juice.

Ron blushed harder, “She wouldn’t let go of me! There was nothing I could do.”

“Whatever you say,” Harry said, rolling his eyes to the heavens.

He was rewarded with a piece of toast in his face. Laughing, Harry put the toast onto his plate and began applying jam to it.

“What do we got today, Ron?”

“Just Herbology in the afternoon,” Ron said happily, “what about you, Hermione?”

“Me too!” she said happily, “I don’t have anything in the morning, surprisingly.”

“Cool,” said Harry, “what do you want to do?”

“Let’s visit Hagrid.”

Hagrid already had a fire going on in his hut, the chimney belching smoke.

“Come in,” they heard Hagrid’s voice.

They walked in and were immediately attacked by Fang, who licked their faces happily. Laughing, the trio pushed him away and took up seats around the fireplace.

“How was yer summers?” Hagrid asked, stoking the fire.

“Well, it was fine, once we all got to Grimmauld Place,” Ron said, “we got to spend time together, and that was a lot of fun.”

“It would’ve been more fun with Sirius,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“What was tha’, ’Arry?” Hagrid asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said, shaking his head, “it doesn’t matter. How was yours, Hagrid?”

“Abou’ the same…just takin’ care of Grawpy. He’s really found something he likes to eat…although werewolf bones are a bit crunchy.”

Harry tried not to think about the image of Lupin getting eaten by Grawp. Hermione, he noticed, was grimacing, and apparently had thought of the same thing.

“Did you see Madam Maxime?” asked Ron, winking at Harry. Harry stifled a laugh. If those two ever had a baby…well, he didn’t really want to think about that.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hagrid said, turning a bit red behind his beard, “and don’t you go meddlin’ in things that you don’t know about.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed, knowing full well that Hagrid had a very deep liking for the Beauxbatons headmistress.

“Don’t you lot have classes?” Hagrid suddenly realized.

“Not this morning,” Hermione said, shaking her head, “we’ve got Herbology this afternoon, but that’s it.”

“Oh yea’, I forgot,” Hagrid said, “you all are sixth years now. Not as many classes.”

“You can say that again,” Ron chimed in.

“What’s the latest with the giants?” Harry asked, turning the subject to something far more serious.

Hagrid’s face clouded over, “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. Some apparently see things the same way Dumbledore does, but others want to be on Voldemort’s side. They know what our kind has treated them like for the past few centuries…with Ministers like Fudge, it’s hard to win support from anybody these days.”

“Isn’t Fudge going to be out soon?” Hermione asked.

“Probably,” Hagrid said, and then looked at Ron, “it’s looking more and more like your dad will replace him.”

Ron grinned, “I hope so. We’d have a lot more money.”

“You’d also be major targets,” Hermione reminded him.

“Not to mention, you’re already my best friend,” Harry added, “you’re probably already number-one on the Weasley hit list.”

“That’s very comforting,” Ron said, shuddering.

“Don’t worry abou’ it,” Hagrid advised, “if it happens, it happens. Don’t spend all your time thinkin’ about it.”

Ron nodded, apparently taking Hagrid’s advice to heart. Hermione looked at her watch and stood up.

“Come on, let’s go in for lunch.”

The trio and Hagrid headed up to the castle for lunch, bundled up and talking about Quidditch and other meaningless things. It was of some comfort not to discuss Voldemort.

***

Herbology was much of the same doom and gloom that they were getting from all their teachers. Professor Sprout endlessly warned them about the difficulty---and dangerousness---of sixth year Herbology. Harry was frankly getting tired of all the teachers telling them how hard this year was going to be. Hermione would later remark smugly that this was because Harry wanted to delay his realization of the difficulty of NEWT classes until they were sufficiently ingrained in them, and Ron was willing to complain with him.

“These bloody teachers,” Ron said, as they walked away from the greenhouses, “they keep warning us how difficult this year is. Yeah, yeah…Fred and George said that sixth year was the easiest year they’d had since first year.”

“Then again, they probably weren’t taking the subject seriously,” Hermione said disapprovingly, “you know how they are.”

Ron shrugged, “They’re rich now, aren’t they?”

Hermione had to concede the point. The Weasley twins, for all their imperfections at school, were doing the best out of any of the Weasleys, including the ones who had been prefects and Head Boys.

“I can’t wait till Friday,” Ron said, “Kingsley’s lessons are so cool!”

“Oh yeah, we’ve got to do some researching of martial arts for that class, don’t we?”

Hermione nodded, “Yes. I’ve already done mine. Have you?”

“What do you think?” Ron asked, rolling his eyes.

“Can we copy your notes?”

She glared at Harry, “You two are so…cheeky!”

Harry grinned at her, “So what? You know you’re going to give it to us.”

She sighed, “Okay, I’ll let you look at it tonight.”

Ron and Harry grinned at one another in triumph. Hermione laughed and led the way back to Gryffindor Tower. They squeezed their way over to the squashy armchairs by the fireplace, delighting in the heat that it gave the windy September draft.

“Do you know when the Ministry elections are going to be?”

“In October, I think,” Ron said, “my dad’s running and so’s Fudge.”

“I hope your dad wins,” Harry said fervently, “that would really help the Order and our cause against Voldemort. Not to mention it’d get Fudge out of the Ministry.”

Hermione suddenly frowned.

“What is it, Hermione?”

“Remember when we did that magic in Diagon Alley? Why didn’t we get punished for it by the Ministry?” Hermione asked, biting her lip.

Ron rolled his eyes, “I already asked my dad about it. He said that they couldn’t help but ignore it in light of the fact that you had brought 3 Death Eaters to justice. Not to mention that in Diagon Alley there’s so much underage magic going on, it’s not a really big deal.”

Hermione nodded, evidently pleased with Ron’s answer. Harry was about to add something, when suddenly all the lights in the room flickered out. The fire was extinguished. A cold rattling air came over them. Harry could feel his happy thoughts being sucked out of him. It was the dementors.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hope you liked it!

7. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

Chapter Seven---Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

Harry was quick on his feet, realized that it was only one Dementor and aimed his wand at it. He summoned a memory of Sirius laughing and yelled, “Expecto Patronum!”

The Dementor didn’t seem fazed by the Patronus and Harry suddenly realized what it was.

“Riddikulus!” Harry said and laughed loudly. The Dementor vanished with a crack.

“That wasn’t a Dementor?” Hermione asked softly.

“Nope, only a boggart,” Harry grinned, “probably Kingsley’s work.”

“Exactly right,” their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher said, stepping away from where he had been hiding, “good thinking on your feet, Harry. I knew the boggart would turn into a dementor once it was near you. Luckily, it didn’t go near Hermione.”

“Why? What would’ve been bad about that?”

“You wouldn’t have been scared with her boggart, merely mystified,” Kingsley said succinctly.

Ron sniggered, “Yeah, Professor McGonagall telling me I failed everything is slightly less scary than a dementor.”

“Professor McGonagall? That’s not Hermione’s----” Kingsley suddenly stopped at the look on Hermione’s face.

“What do you mean?” Ron asked confusedly.

“Never mind,” Kingsley said. “Good night, all of you.”

He walked out of the portrait hole and both Harry and Ron immediately turned on their best friend.

“What did he mean when he said that McGonagall wasn’t your boggart?” Harry asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “What do you think he meant? He meant that McGonagall wasn’t my boggart.”

“But that’s what you said in our third year,” Ron said suspiciously.

Hermione shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. I’m tired…I’m going off to bed. Good night, you two.”

She left the two confused boys behind her, thanking God that Kingsley hadn’t revealed her boggart.

***

Harry was surprised to see that September and October had disappeared in a surprisingly quick way, the boggart attack becoming a faded memory. Gryffindor had inducted four new members to their team, Paul Kerry and Joseph Manning the Beaters and Mike Levine and Thomas Anderson the Chasers. For some strange reason that Harry was still wondering about, Ginny Weasley had elected not to try out. All the selected players were good at their positions and Gryffindor’s hopes for the a third straight Quidditch Cup looked very promising indeed. Harry, Hermione, and Kalie had also narrowed down their potions topics to being one on emotions. They weren’t sure which emotion they were going to do yet, as Harry wanted to do bravery, Hermione insecurity, and Kalie depression.

November had been cold and rainy so far and Quidditch practice was becoming an increasing drag on both his energy and his health. He had a mild case of the cold and had sneezed all over Snape during an Occlumency lesson a couple days ago. That had resulted in a detention.

Harry and Ron were walking back to Gryffindor Tower, finished with another wet, slimy, tiring practice. Katie Bell seemed to have been infected with the Gryffindor Captain mania and was working them as hard as Oliver Wood or Angelina Johnson ever had.

“It’s not healthy for you two to be out there,” Hermione said worriedly looking at Harry, when they entered the common room.

Harry sneezed and laughed almost sarcastically.

“Are you kidding?” he rolled his eyes. “God, I’ve never felt worse physically in a long time.”

“Here,” Hermione said, giving them both a bowl of hot chicken broth, “I asked Dobby to make it.’

“Telling house-elves to make food, Hermione? What has the world come too?” Ron asked mockingly, before gulping down the soup greedily.

“Shut up. You two needed it.”

“Thanks a bunch, Hermione,” Harry said gratefully.

“No problem,” she said, before shooting an evil eye at Ron, “see how Harry thanks me first? You could do with learning a few lessons from Harry?”

Ron waved it off, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, I’ve got to go tutor Luna. See ya.”

Harry and Hermione watched amusedly as their friend strolled off. Luna had asked him to tutor her in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms once a week and Ron did it without fail. A few times, he had returned looking a little disheveled which led to much gossip in the Gryffindor common room.

“I’m beat,” Harry said, “I think I’m gonna head upstairs. Good night, Hermione.”

“Did you finish your Transfiguration homework?”

Harry sighed, “No. Dang, I’ve got to do that.”

All thoughts of a warm bed and a good sleep were extinguished as he pulled out a piece of parchment and began to write. Hermione watched him as he struggled through the essay McGonagall had given them.

“Here, let me do it,” she said.

“She’ll recognize your handwriting,” Harry said blearily.

“I’ll use a Masking spell,” Hermione shrugged, “don’t worry about it.”

“You’re the best, Hermione,” he murmured and sank his head onto her left shoulder.

Hermione did not both moving his head off, even though it was slightly uncomfortable to write with a head leaning on your other shoulder. After she finished the essay, she didn’t bother getting up and going to bed.

She was tired by now as well, and silently noting that Ron still hadn’t gotten back (which brought a laugh to her eyes), she put her head on top of Harry’s and fell asleep.

***

The next day, a Thursday, the buzz going around the school was all about the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Gryffindor had several new players and still had the best Seeker at Hogwarts, but Slytherin always gave them a good game, playing rough and having arguably the most physically strong team in the school.

However, Professor Dumbledore provided a new topic for them to all discuss at breakfast that day.

“Due to popular demand,” he said, with a slight twinkle in his eyes, “we have brought back something to Hogwarts. Some of you may remember it from two years ago…yes, we are bringing back the Yule Ball. It will be held Christmas Day at eight o’clock in the night and will go on until midnight. It is not required to attend and students of all ages are welcome to attend. That is all.”

A firestorm burst out across the Great Hall. Girls were giggling and boys were looking as if they had eaten something unpleasant. A few, such as Draco Malfoy, smirked as girls simpered around their arms.

During the course of the day, Harry was asked by three different students to the Ball. He rejected all of them, feeling slightly bad about it; but the fact was, he did not want to go with any of them. Ron was not as popular, but rumors were already going around that he was ‘taken.’

Kalie Lane, Harry and Hermione’s partner in Potions, had been asked by Mike Levine, the Gryffindor Chaser, and had accepted. Hermione had not been asked yet, and Harry felt glad for that. He did not know why, but he certainly didn’t want her going with someone like Krum again. Krum was a good guy, but he didn’t deserve Hermione.

At the end of the day, after another grueling practice in preparation for Saturday, Harry and Ron sat down in their favorite armchairs, talking about their Transfiguration class.

“I wish McGonagall didn’t assign so much goddamn homework,” Ron glared into the fire, “it’s really getting annoying.”

“This is sixth year Transfiguration, but still,” Harry agreed, “I wish they’d ease up.”

“No questions there,” Ron said, “where is Hermione, anyway?”

“Library, I think,” Harry replied.

“Gonna ask her to the Yule Ball?” Ron asked, with a shrewd look on his face.

Harry was surprised, “What do you mean?”

“Remember our conversation during the summer? I still think you love her,” he said, “this is a nice and easy way to find out whether she likes you. Just ask her to the Yule Ball.”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged.

“You better do it,” Ron commanded, “or I’ll do it for you.”

Harry nodded, conceding that he would think about it. There was no harm in asking, right? It didn’t mean anything…did it?

He changed the subject, “What about you and Luna?”

Ron blushed, “What about us?”

“Everybody’s been talking about your tutoring…so tell me, is that all you’re doing?”

“Of course,” Ron answered immediately, before turning slightly more red, “we do some other stuff in there, as well.”

“Like what?” Harry grinned.

“OK, we’ve kissed, so what?” Ron grimaced. “It was very good, I’ll have you know.”

“Can’t say I know too much about that myself; I only kissed Cho once,” Harry said.

“Well, have you asked her to the Yule Ball?”

“Not yet, but I will tomorrow,” he said. “It’s not a big deal; I already know her answer.”

“Lucky you.”

“I want you to ask Hermione within this week.”

“Why so soon?”

Ron grinned, “You wouldn’t want some other bloke to get her first, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Harry said forcefully.

“Excellent. Ask her after the game,” Ron suggested, “you know, flush off your victory over Slytherin.”

“We might not win,” Harry reminded him.

“Of course, we will,” he said, “we’re Gryffindor. We’re not gonna lose to Slytherin.”

***

“This is going to be a game for the ages, folks!” yelled out Spike Jordan, Lee’s younger brother and the new Quidditch announcer. “We’ve got the two-time defending champion Gryffindor going against their arch-rival Slytherin! This rivalry has been even more heated than usual recently, thanks to the hatred between their star Seekers, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

“Never has a match been approached with so much anxiety and anger. Slytherin has not beaten Gryffindor since Harry Potter came to the school and Captain Malfoy vows that this will change. Katie Bell, Captain for the Gryffindor side, has also guaranteed victory. Only time will tell which one is right,” Spike said, knowing that he was certainly hoping that Katie was the right one, “and here they are! The Slytherin team! Mitch Norris! Robert Walton! Adrian Pucey! Vincent Crabbe! Gregory Goyle! Blaise Zabini! And Draco Malfoy!”

The Slytherin team flew around the stadium, before settling themselves around the middle of the field. Malfoy had had to replace two of his Chasers as they had graduated and had gotten a new Keeper; he himself had only been raised to the level of Captain this year.

“And now, the Gryffindor Team! Captain Katie Bell! The two new Chasers----Mike Levine and Thomas Anderson! The new Beaters, replacing Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper who did an admirable job filling in for Fred and George Weasley last year, Paul Kerry and Joseph Manning, two second years! The Keeper, Ronald Weasley! And of course, the best Seeker at Hogwarts (loud boos from the Slytherin stands), Harry Potter!”

The Gryffindor team flew out onto the field, circled once and came back to midfield for the opening toss. Harry gave Malfoy a glare, remembering the fight in September with Hermione, when Malfoy had mentioned Harry’s curse books. Malfoy stared right back, his pale face in a permanent smirk.

“I want a nice, clean game from all of you,” Madam Hooch said sternly, but knew it was all in vain. The last time Gryffindor and Slytherin had played a nice, clean game…well, there had never been a last time.

“And the game begins! Levine in immediate possession of the Quaffle! He looked quite good in tryouts but this his first game action----quick pass to Bell, the pretty and experienced Chaser, who weaves in and out of traffic----oh----stolen by Norris, who’s moving towards the Gryffindor goalposts----he’s got Weasley one-on-one----he shoots---he scores! Ten-zero, Slytherin.”

Harry swore as he circled the field, Malfoy trailing behind him. The last thing Gryffindor needed was for Ron to lose his concentration and give up five or six more quick goals. Katie determinedly took the Quaffle and went coast-to-coast for a goal, but Ron still looked unsettled.

“Come on, Ron,” Harry yelled out, as he passed by him, “hang in there!”

Unfortunately, this encouragement did not seem to help Ron. Mike and Thomas each scored one more goal, but Ron let in four more easy goals in the same span of time.

“Weasley looks rattled,” Spike Jordan said, “He’s returned to his early-season form of last year. Everything is going in for the ecstatic Slytherins----the Gryffindor crowd is urging Ron to remember how he performed against Ravenclaw last year, winning the Cup---but it seems in vain----another goal by Norris. This guy is eating Ron for lunch today, sixty-thirty, Slytherin.”

“Timeout!” yelled Katie Bell.

Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team flew to the ground, where Katie was looking straight at Ron.

“Ronald Weasley,” she said sharply, “you are a good Keeper. We know this from last year. What the bloody hell are you doing up there?”

“I don’t know,” Ron mumbled.

The rest of the team was as angry as Katie was. Everyone knew what a good Keeper Ron was. He had performed admirably against Ravenclaw last year and had won the Cup for them.

“Harry, you talk to him,” Katie said curtly.

Harry looked squarely at Ron, “Ron, you can do this. You know you can. You’ve got to. We’re counting on you.”

Ron closed his eyes and then reopened them, “All right. I will.”

Harry clapped him on the back and looked at the rest of the team, “He’ll be all right.”

The team flew back into the air, the Slytherin team smirking at them. Harry rolled his eyes, and tried to ignore the singing of, “Weasley is Our King,” coming from the Slytherins again.

Ron looked like he was concentrating again and he blocked the next few shots. Gryffindor was back on track. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and began looking for the Snitch again.

“Anderson moving up the field----he’s really quick----passes to Bell----to Levine----Pucey coming alongside him----what a foul! Yes, and there it goes---the whistle blows!”

Adrian Pucey had come alongside Mike Levine and instead of trying to take the Quaffle from him, he had simply grabbed Mike’s head, causing him to drop the Quaffle. Madam Hooch had seen it and immediately blew her whistle, giving Mike a penalty shot.

“Come on, Mike, you can do it----Zabini’s a decent Keeper so far----head fake by Levine----he scores! He scores! Sixty-forty, Slytherin!”

The game became progressively more dirty. Slytherin used no discretion in their fouls, simply grabbing and holding anything red that came within a few feet of them. Gryffindor scores four more goals in rapid succession on penalty shots. Mitch Norris, however, was a very good Chaser and he answered with two of his own that tied the score at eighty.

Then, Harry saw it. The shimmer of gold was lurking near one of the Slytherin goalposts. Malfoy saw it too. The two Seekers dove to the ground, racing neck and neck for the Snitch, Harry slightly in the lead, thanks to his superior broom, when there was a sudden thwack as a Bludger careened into Harry’s back. The pain was unbearable and he spun out of control, smacking into Malfoy, who also in turn veered off course.

By the time Harry had regained control of his broom, the Snitch had disappeared and everyone was staring worriedly at him.

“I’m fine!” he yelled.

“Potter looks like he’s okay, as does Malfoy, so the game continues,” Spike said. “Anderson’s got the Quaffle again----Levine’s got it----quick toss to Bell, who’s weaving in and out of the strong Slytherin defense----smooth move past Norris----she’s alone against Zabini----she scores! Ninety-eighty, Gryffindor!”

Harry cheered with everybody else as Katie circled the pitch, pumping her fist in delight. He looked down at the crowd and noticed with startling surprise that Ginny Weasley was not in there. He couldn’t recall her every missing a Quidditch match. And she hadn’t even tried out for the team----she was a great flyer, Harry was still mystified why she hadn’t.

“Weasley’s looked a lot better since the timeout, only allowing two goals to the very good Mitch Norris, who’s been a pleasant surprise so far for the Slytherins. Potter and Malfoy seem to have recovered from their chase earlier in the game and continue moving around the field, the Snitch apparently out of sight…”

Harry looked at the crowd again, trying to find Hermione. He hadn’t seen her earlier, and for some reason, he had forgotten to do his usual pre-match check of where she was in the stands. He blushed when he realized that it might have had something to do with his soon-to-be-happening asking to the Yule Ball. He was simply nervous about her…His eyes flew over the crowd. He spotted Hagrid and then saw her jumping up and down next to him. Hermione looked up at him and beamed.

As he smiled back at her, Harry suddenly noticed the golden flash above her head. The Snitch! He began speeding his broom towards the Gryffindor stands.

“Has Potter seen something? Malfoy’s giving chase to him, but Potter’s far ahead! What’s there? The two Seekers are getting closer to the Gryffindor stands!” Spike Jordan shouted, trying to contain his excitement.

Harry looked once behind him just to make sure Malfoy was not close enough to be a threat and urged his broom forward. Hermione had seen the shimmer above her head and was frantically willing him to come faster.

He reached out his hand and caught the struggling ball in his hands, feeling a smile break out over his face.

“Gryffindor wins! A great catch by Harry Potter! Two hundred forty-eighty, Gryffindor!”

Harry soared above the crowd, waving the Snitch around as they went ballistic, enjoying Gryffindor’s fifth consecutive victory against Slytherin.

***

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were relaxing in the Gryffindor common room, flush with victory, sipping their butterbeers, as the rest of the House partied until they knocked themselves out. In some cases, this was literal, as a couple kids were lying on the couch, having drunk too much laced butterbeer.

“Remember what I told you before the game?” Ron whispered in Harry’s ear.

Harry suddenly remembered that he was going to ask Hermione to the Yule Ball. He looked over at her and saw the perfectly content smile on her face. Now was as good a time as any.

“I think I’m gonna go get some more food,” Ron said, giving Harry a wink before walking away.

“That was a great catch, Harry,” Hermione said casually.

“Thanks, Hermione,” he said, blushing.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled.

Harry took a deep breath, “Um, Hermione? There’s something I want to ask you.”

“What, Harry? What’s up?”

Harry looked around the room nervously and realized there was no escape. He turned his eyes back to Hermione.

“Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Author’s Note: Oooh, evil cliffy! If you review, I might be able to update sooner…thanks to everybody who has this fic one of the most reviewed on Portkey!

8. Acceptance

Author’s Note---Starts off kinda in Hermione’s POV. Now, for a bit of fun ridiculing of a particularly stupid flamer. Here’s what a person identifying themselves as Claire Bear wrote:

Get a grip on your self. In the real books Harry and Ron are only friends with Hermione because she is smart. Get Harry with Cho and I'll like it. Luna ia an idiot. Ron should not be with her. The yule ball is a Triwizard Tournament Event not a yearly thing. You could at least change the name. Quiddich needs to be more gory. You also have had only one class and it sounded retarded. Make it much more funny! And Spike Jordan? Give me a break! I am only eight and I could write twice as good as you. Though that could be because I've skipped a grade and get staight a+. I f you can't tell I really wouldn't advize you to be an author.
Sincerly,
Claire

This is what I have to say to you, Claire Bear: First, if you’re stupid enough to think that Harry and Ron are only friends with Hermione because of her brains, there’s nothing I really need to say to you. I advise everyone reading this just to sit back and laugh for a good five or six minutes. Now, that you’re done laughing, let’s continue with the analyzing of your pathetic flame. Hmmm…Harry/Cho, did you read the fifth book? Harry would rather defend Hermione than make amends with his own girlfriend? Maybe that teaches you something? And, of course, there’s also the small matter of JKR saying that Harry would move on and that it was just a short-term relationship. So you think Luna’s an idiot? That’s okay with me, but maybe it’d be better if you gave a reason. Plus, if you have complaints with Luna’s characterization, why don’t you talk to JKR? I thought about changing the name of the Yule Ball, but why not keep it? Familiarity is always good in authorship; plus, Yule just means ‘Christmas’ and that’s what the ball is, isn’t it? Unless you want to be politically correct and call it a Winter Ball. But in any case…let’s move on. Quidditch needs to be more gory? (By the way, spell Quidditch properly, you numbskull.) Yeah, Harry gets roughed up in the books, but there’s nothing that says that guts need to be spilled all over the place. Your later-on revelation that you’re only eight makes me even more sad for the state of today’s youth. You’re eight and you want more gore! Grow up, for God’s sake. And what’s wrong with using, ‘Spike Jordan’? Give me a specific complaint about the name and I’ll tell you what’s wrong with your argument, as I’m sure it’ll be pathetic.

So you say you’ve skipped a grade and get straight A+’s? If you were so smart I think you’d be able to spell, ‘sincerely,’ ‘advise,’ and ‘straight.’ After all, you’re a bloody genius, aren’t you? You get straight A+’s! Yawn…I’m so impressed by your false claims. And even if they were true, that really impresses me…except for the fact that I’ve gotten Straight A+’s before, and I am one of the smartest freshman in my school, if not the smartest. (I’m the only freshman on our Knowledge Bowl team and I won the state competition for us by answering the last three questions to put us ahead by one point, so don’t even think about challenging that claim.)

Lastly, you say that you’re only eight and could write a better story than me? Fine, go out and prove it, Claire Bear. I’d love to read it. I’m sure it’d be pathetic, misspelled, and just a bloody waste of my time.

As for the rest of my fans, I hope you enjoyed that…and keep reviewing! I take all of your sane points seriously. By no means am I one of the best writers in the fandom, probably not even in the top 100. Thanks for reviewing me so much, it really warms my heart. And lastly, if you want to flame…go ahead. But do it in nice long sentences, so I can tear you apart in my next chapter. And I’m sorry for taking so long…Now…on with the story (rather short chapter, sorry!)!

Chapter Eight---Acceptance

Hermione stared at Harry, unable to believe the question that had come out of his lips. He wanted her to go to the Yule Ball with him? Harry James Potter? The boy she had known and befriended from age eleven?

She looked into his sharp, emerald eyes and saw a thousand images running through them…walking bossily into a train compartment and announcing that there was no way that what Ron was doing was a real spell…Harry running into the girls’ bathroom, intent on saving her from a troll, for a reason she still did not understand…hugging him in the Potions Chamber, a few feet from the Sorcerer’s Stone, knowing that it just might be the last time she would ever see him again…telling him of what was more important than books and cleverness----“friendship and bravery----”, leaving out the last one, ‘love,’ for fear of it being too nonsensical for an eleven year old girl to be talking about to her male best friend…running down the steps of Gringotts, seeing him again after an anxious summer…waking up after the petrification; coming into the Great Hall and running into his arms, the Heir of Slytherin finally being caught…Harry giving her a disarming grin in Honeydukes, making her unable to even threaten to report him…saving Sirius from the dementors and watching Harry stare as his last chance of escaping from the Dursleys’ flying away into the moonlight…the shock when she heard his name being called from the Goblet of Fire…the pain on his face when Ron had deserted him…the Third Task…forming the D.A. with him…the painful experience in the Department of Mysteries…all these memories were the core of their friendship for the last five-going-on-six years. Did she want to change that? Did she want something more?

Hermione looked at those eyes again, remembered those subconscious feelings that had started last year, and knew that she had her answer.

“Yes, Harry.”

To say that Harry had jumped up and down would have been a lie. Instead, his face broke out into a smile. An honest, genuine smile of happiness. Before he knew what he was doing, he hugged his best friend eagerly.

“I see that he asked you,” Ron commented dryly.

“Shut up, Ron,” Harry said.

Ron smirked, “Whatever…all I can say is, ‘About bloody time.’”

Harry and Hermione blushed, their eyes still lingering on one another.

“Yeah, yeah, ignore me,” Ron said in a pretend-hurt voice, “I’ll just go and sulk in a corner.”

The other two members of the trio laughed and quickly focused once again on celebrating Gryffindor’s victory over Slytherin, began drinking their butterbeers in a triumphant fashion.

***

The planned Ministry elections of October had been postponed when Cornelius Fudge had caught a viral flu and had been unable to campaign for three weeks. They were scheduled for next week, and Ron was decidedly nervous about his dad’s chances.

“Don’t worry, Ron, it’s not the end of the world if he doesn’t win,” Harry said, taking one of Hermione’s bishops. They were playing wizard’s chess after a long day of classes, but Ron was merely sitting on the couch, staring off into space.

“Yeah, but still…” Ron trailed off. “I just want him to win. Not only would he be good for the job, we’d get a much nicer house.”

Hermione laughed, “Ron, that’s probably the least of your worries right now.”

“That’s probably true,” Ron agreed, remembering the omnipresent threat of Voldemort.

“Remember that day at Grimmauld Place where your mom wouldn’t tell us what your dad was doing and only six Order members know about it?” Harry asked. “I keep forgetting to ask you about that.”

Hermione screwed up her eyes, trying to remember that day and it soon came back to her.

“Yeah, it seemed kind of odd,” she said, “d’you think they’re guarding something like the prophecy last year?”

“What’s there to guard?” Ron asked, walking over to the chess board and making a move for Hermione that resulted in a fork of Harry’s king and queen.

“Damn it, Ron, what was that for?” Harry asked angrily, while Hermione only beamed at him. Ron smirked.

“Anyway,” Hermione said, sweetly taking Harry’s queen after he had moved his king, “do you think it has anything to do with the prophecy?”

Harry shook his head, “No, there was only one crystal ball about it and that’s gone. Only Dumbledore and I know all the words of the prophecy, so I don’t think there’s anything to guard against.”

“Maybe something new that we don’t know about,” Ron said. “Like a weapon.”

“That’s what we were thinking last year,” Hermione pointed out, “and that was really wrong.”

Harry shrugged. They really had no way of knowing, unless Dumbledore or one of the others told them. It seemed to be too compartmentalized.

“How are your Occlumency lessons going?”

“Snape’s being as bad as ever, but it’s all right,” Harry said. Just yesterday, he had been forced to hide the memory of Hermione saying yes to him from Snape. He had done it well and Snape had even grunted in acknowledgment.

“Good,” Hermione said, taking another one of Ron’s hints and skewering a rook and a bishop.

“Ron, you’ve got to stop doing that!” Harry complained.

Unfortunately, the next move was all Hermione’s, but it was a checkmate.

“Yes! That’s the first time I’ve beaten you!” Hermione exclaimed happily.

Harry was about to protest that Ron had helped her, but he stopped himself. He could only smile at her grinning/smirking eyes.

***

Harry couldn’t really believe how normal he was acting around Hermione. Considering he had asked her to the Yule Ball a few days ago, their friendship had remained the same; no pauses of awkwardness or fumbling glances. But he supposed that would probably change as they got closer and closer to the Yule Ball. Most people still didn’t know that Harry and Hermione were together for the dance, but it wouldn’t take them long.

“What class do we have first today?”

“Honestly, you’d think after two months, you’d know your own schedules,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “you both have only one class today, Charms. I’ve got Ancient Runes after lunch.”

“D.A. lesson tonight,” Ron added.

The D.A. had been going great this year. Mostly they were brushing up on already-known skills, but it was still fun for everybody and they had had a few occasional guest teachings by Kingsley.

“What’re we doing tonight?”

“Working on the Patronus Charm,” Harry said. They had started work on that again. Hermione was the only one who could do it continually. Ron seemed to be getting closer, the wisps getting more and more corporeal, but he was probably at least a few lessons away from doing it properly. The rest of the class was in varying stages on it, the best being Ernie Macmillan who would probably get it done today and the worst being Parvati, who still hadn’t managed a wisp of smoke.

Charms was a rather interesting lesson where they learned how to personify teacups. Harry’s had a rather macho attitude and by the time they got out of the class, Harry was extremely tired of hearing, “Oh yeah? Want a piece of me? Come and get it.”

“Your teacup was awesome,” Ron said as they walked to lunch.

“The first few times it was pretty cool,” Harry admitted, “but afterwards, it just got tiresome. Your teacup was kind of lame.”

Ron’s had been the opposite of Harry’s, very shy and refusing to talk to Ron. This had frustrated the redhead to no end, but the teacup had only said two words by the end of the class.

“Mine was quite interesting,” Hermione said, in a superior tone, “it really was very intelligent.”

Unsurprisingly, Hermione’s teacup had had a smart, biting perspective on life and even Harry found himself listening to what the little thing had to say. It had definitely seemed like it knew what it was talking about.

“Rest of the afternoon off, what do you want to do, Harry?” Ron asked, shoveling steak-and-kidney pie into his mouth.

“Let’s do some flying,” Harry said, eyeing the windy weather outside, “we’re gonna have to get used to conditions like those. It isn’t going to be any better in February, when we play Hufflepuff.”

***

The Room of Requirement was full of D.A. students as usual and Harry quickly gave them instructions again. They were to continue to try and produce corporeal Patronuses.

“Remember----pick a really happy memory,” he said. “Think of what the best moment in your life was and then try the Charm.”

Shouts of “Expecto Patronum!” resounded through the classroom and wisps of smoke began forming throughout the room.

“Hey, Hermione, want to help me supervise?” Harry asked.

Hermione smiled at him, and Harry felt himself blushing.

“No problem, Harry.”

Harry moved over to help some of the further behind students, helping Parvati Patil with her grip of the wand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione helping Lavender with her motion.

“Keep trying, Parvati!”

“Expecto Patronum!”

A jet of smoke shot out of her wand. Harry smiled at her.

“That’s a great start, Parvati. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

He moved over to where Ron was standing.

“Hey, Ron. How’s it going?”

“I’m almost there,” he said through gritted teeth.

Harry nodded. Ron didn’t need his help. Several minutes later, Ernie Macmillan joined Harry and Hermione as the only two students to be able to consistently produce a Patronus.

“Good job, Ernie,” Harry shook his hand.

“Thanks, Harry.”

“All right, guys, time to clean up,” he ordered, “got to get back before it’s past our curfew.”

Everyone began cleaning up the room, picking up the scattered books and straightening the shelves. The classroom began to get empty and before Harry realized it, only he and Hermione were left in the room.

He turned around and saw her looking at him almost like she was interested in what he was going to do. Her hair was in long brown ringlets and she was wearing a cute blue sweater. Her skirt came down to her knees.

“So…” Harry said, his voice choking up.

Hermione smiled at him and stepped closer.

“Well, this is a rather empty room…”

Hermione continued stepping closer, the smile never leaving her face.

“You know, I think----”

His voice was cut off by Hermione leaning her face up and her lips touching his. Harry was surprised, but his surprise soon turned to realization. He began kissing her back. His hands slipped down around her waist and her arms came around his neck.

“Oh, Harry…” she moaned.

Harry kissed her a little bit harder, their lips crashing and swelling against one another. When they finally broke apart, smiles were on both of their faces.

“That was fun…”

Harry grinned at her, “Maybe we should do it again.”

Author’s Note: I know that in Book 5, it said Cho could produce a corporeal Patronus, but I really found that hard to believe. I mean she said earlier in the book that she hadn’t been able to Stun anything before, but now she can do Patronuses? A bad attempt by JKR to make Cho seem somewhat worthy of Harry----so I kicked that out. No offense to JKR, but it was just fake. I believe this is one of the top-five most reviewed fics on Portkey, so keep them coming! Please review!

9. Election

Author’s Note:

So this might be the first fanfic that’s ever been started again after a 3 year break, but as many of you know, I left the fandom for a couple years. Now I’m back. I hope some of you out there will still read this story, I know it’s been an incredibly long time but I felt like I might as well take a shot at writing this again. Obviously I am not too pleased with my writing from several years ago, but I’m going to make the best of the situation. The last chapter, in particular, was shoddy, rushed, and extremely poorly written. I will attempt to make up for these mistakes in the future chapters. The reason I’m reconvening this novel is because I was highly disappointed by the sixth book and the seventh one wasn’t particularly amazing either. After all, I know many of you feel like the last two books have not been exactly like the rest of the series so here’s my “attempt” at a sixth book. I’ll do my best to live up to expectations. I’m also moving into my college this next week so the next update will be in a few weeks. Sorry about the delay but it’s my freshman year! I hope you understand and can wait patiently. Enjoy!

Chapter Nine: Election

Harry felt his fingers getting caught in the thick tresses of Hermione’s hair. Her lips were pressing against his; their gentle strawberry taste was causing his heart to do flip-flops as he pulled her even closer to him. He noticed somewhat absently that Hermione was not crying. On the whole, this was a much better experience than kissing Cho had been.

Hermione pulled back, an odd glint in her eyes. Her hair was disheveled, her lips swelling, and her clothes looked slightly more rumpled.

“HARRY!”

He looked at Hermione quizzically, “Why are you yelling?”

“HARRY!”

“Stop it!”

“Harry, wake up!” He felt himself being shook awake, the low dim of the common room fire reaching his eyes. The next second, this vision was blocked by a mess of red hair.

“Harry, come on! It’s time for the D.A. meeting,”

Harry groaned as he realized that his kiss with Hermione had been just a dream. Bloody fantastic. He was dreaming about making out with his best friend. He had asked her to the Yule Ball, but that gave him no license to think about her like that. Besides, he had never made it sound to Hermione like they were going as anything more than very good friends. I can’t have thoughts like that. She’s a great friend…and very beautiful…and a great kisser…and everything you’d ever----STOP! You don’t need to make things awkward with her!

“Sorry. I-I…must’ve dozed off,”

Ron snorted as Harry rolled off the couch, his brilliant green eyes readjusting to the light of the common room. He looked around for any signs of Hermione, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry hoped his voice wasn’t as high-pitched as it sounded to him.

It didn’t seem like Ron had noticed anything out of the ordinary in Harry’s voice and replied casually, “Oh she’s still coming down. She needs to hurry up though. How does it take a girl so bloody long to get ready?”

Harry started to laugh. However his laughter caught in his throat as he finally caught sight of Hermione coming down from the girls’ dormitories. She was wearing a simple white jumper and blue skirt---something Harry had seen her several times before--- and her hair was as bushy as ever, but his mind flashed back to his dream. A few short moments ago, his fingers had been entangled in that hair, her lips pressed against his, her back arching as she kissed him with a fervor he had never felt before…

Hermione walked up to them and looked at Harry strangely, “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Er…no, it’s nothing,” Harry said, shaking his head. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Hermione continued to glance at Harry as they made their way to the Room of Requirement, which made Harry even more determined to act as if nothing had happened. He talked with Ron eagerly about the election on Saturday, both very optimistic about Mr. Weasley’s chances.

“The way I see it,” Ron said, as the door to the Room of Requirement opened, “Fudge has no shot. That means his only real threat is that bloke from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement---Pius Thicknesse. But I mean Dad’s got a good shot because Dumbledore’s supporting him and everyone knows Dad was one of the first to believe you about the whole You-Know-Who thing and---”

“We know, Ron,” Hermione laughed. “We’ve been over this a million times. Don’t be nervous, I’m sure your dad will do great.” She gave him a quick smile and gave Ron’s hand a squeeze. Harry felt something leap in his chest for just a second, but he quashed it immediately. Hermione’s just being a good friend, he reasoned.

The members of the D.A. looked up when the trio finally walked in. The D.A. had become more of a club, akin to the Gobstones or Charms club, following the ascendancy of Kingsley Shacklebolt to the teacher’s post. Harry did not have to do as much teaching of the basics and instead was working with the students on improving their proficiency in more complex spells. Like his dream, Harry knew that today was a day to work on the Patronus Charm.

“Alright, guys, let’s pair off and start working on the Patronus Charm again. Hermione, I want to see you produce another corporeal one today and then help Neville with his. Everyone else, get started. Remember, happy thoughts. This can’t be something minor like you just won ten points for your House. When you’re out facing a dementor, you need the happiest thoughts of your life. Alright, let‘s begin.”

This was the first day they had worked on Patronuses since last year. They had spent the first couple months of the year brushing up on their Stunning and Summoning (Harry would always remember having to Summon the Triwizard Cup to escape Little Hangleton). Kingsley’s classes had helped immensely; the younger students were doing a lot better with those spells and dueling in general had improved.

Harry knew that his private lessons with Kingsley had been extremely rewarding. Harry’s hand-to-hand combat had improved dramatically and even though he still hadn’t managed to land a hurtful punch on the large man, he was dying for Malfoy to have a go at him. He wouldn’t need a wand to make Malfoy pay.

Ron and Hermione were enjoying the lessons as well, though they hadn’t made as much progress as Harry. Hermione, in particular, was struggling with the class. It wasn’t due to a lack of strength---Kingsley had pointed out several times she had more than enough power to defeat someone---but due to the fact that she was thinking too much in battle; waiting passively for her opponent to act. She had confided to Harry that several times she found herself over thinking during a battle and Kingsley would then take advantage of this momentary lapse in concentration. He had told her several times that battle was often about instinctive action, feeling where to go instead of attempting to map out an entire sequence in the mind. It had to be a reflex, not a well thought-out course.

Harry looked around the classroom and saw with satisfaction that many were beginning to produce more than wisps of silver smoke. Shapes were beginning to form, though nothing corporeal for most of the students. Hermione had already created her otter and was now attempting to help Neville who was struggling greatly.

Neville’s face was screwed up in concentration as he repeatedly shouted, “Expecto Patronum!” to no avail. Occasionally, tiny bits of smoke would pop out of his wand but he was having even trouble getting that.

“Neville, what memory are you using?” Harry asked.

“Winning the House Cup for Gryffindor in first year,” he replied, beads of sweat pouring down his face. He looked miserable.

Harry nodded, “That’s okay. But think of a better one…maybe one involving Bellatrix Lestrange.”

Neville’s eyes lit up in a kind of vengeful happiness. Hermione shot Harry a disapproving look, but Harry shook his head at her. This time, a whole lot of silver smoke in a big circular shape shot out of his wand.

Harry clapped him on the back, “You’re getting there, Neville. Keep trying.”

He left Hermione and Neville and began to pace around the room. In his dream, Ernie had produced a Patronus as well, but today, he seemed to be struggling with it. Of course that may have been due to the fact that he kept eyeing Hannah Abbott out of the corner of his eye. Harry smirked. Hannah was still available for the Yule Ball.

Ron was working with Luna. He had told Harry that the two had kissed, but Harry wasn’t sure how serious their relationship was. Ron had admitted that he still hadn’t asked the girl to the Yule Ball and the kiss had been more of an accident than anything.

“Luna, where’s Ginny tonight?” Harry asked, looking curiously at the blonde.

Luna shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“This is the third D.A. meeting she’s missed,” Harry said, frowning. “Do you know anything about this, Ron?”

Ron shook his head, “I don’t know, mate. She rarely talks to me anymore, she seems to be gone all the time.”

“She does seem to be spending an awful lot of time in the dungeons lately,” Luna added dreamily.

“The dungeons!” Ron grabbed Luna by the shoulder. She looked at him, a mild look of surprise on her face.

“I thought you would’ve known that,” she said. Harry noticed that she had not pulled away from Ron’s touch. “I asked one of her roommates if Ginny was doing extra work on Potions, but she just laughed at me. She said I really must be Loony if I thought that.”

Harry frowned. “I’ll ask Hermione if she can find anything out.”

“Wouldn’t do that, mate. You know how Hermione and Ginny are to each other now.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just ask her myself. Anyway, I’d better let you two get back to work.”

Harry continued to make the rounds. Neville was getting much, much closer, and to his surprise, Lavender Brown had produced something very near corporeal. He glanced at his watch; time was up. He whistled the stoppage and waited until the last bits of silver smoke had disappeared from the room.

“Great work today. We’re going to keep working on this next time. We made a lot of progress. Lavender, practice in your spare time, I have no doubt you’ll be able to produce a corporeal Patronus by next week. Ernie, keep your focus next week (the boy blushed scarlet and his eyes involuntarily shot towards Hannah). What I said to Lavender goes for everyone actually---you all need to keep practicing. Patronuses are some of the hardest magic we’ll do and Kingsley said that we actually won’t get to them until much later this year so we can all be a step ahead of the game if we can actually get this. Kalie, I forgot to mention this to you, but don’t flourish your wand so much. Not only does it give an enemy extra time to attack, it also hampers the charm from working properly. That’s it for today…I’ll see you all next week.”

As the students began filing out of the room, a few here and there clapping Harry on the back or giving him smiles, Harry became uncomfortably aware of his dream. I have to get out of the room!

Thankfully, he saw that Ernie and Hannah had been hanging back. He was probably about to ask her to the Yule Ball. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and clambered out of the Room of Requirement, beside Ron.

“How was ‘working’ with Luna?” he asked in a mock-serious voice

“Not too bad,” Ron replied, trying and failing to appear dignified. “I don’t know when I’m going to ask that girl to the Yule Ball.”

“Ask who to the Yule Ball?” they heard a dreamy voice from behind them.

“Er---no one.” Ron turned a brilliant shade of magenta.

“Oh okay,” Luna said. She gave them a little wave and walked past them in the direction of the Ravenclaw common room. Ron shook his head.

“Er, exactly how did you kiss her?” Harry laughed.

“I told you, she was leaning in to kiss me on the cheek and someone called out my name and when I moved my head, our lips met. It was a complete accident.”

“You can’t deny that you certainly are spending a lot of time ‘tutoring’ her.”

Ron grinned, “Hey, it’s got its benefits.”

Sniggering, the two boys shoved their way to Gryffindor Tower. Harry wondered vaguely where Hermione was, but remembered she had something earlier in the day about needing to go to the library to research some Ancient Runes.

Ron collapsed on a sofa when they reached the common room.

“Man, I’m beat. But we have no classes tomorrow morning,” Ron said thoughtfully.

“You want to play some chess?”

***

The following night, all talk in the common room centered around the next day’s elections for Minister of Magic. The election also happened to coincide with the students’ next Hogsmeade trip which meant there was an added festivity to the atmosphere. Even Hermione had given up trying to quiet the boisterous young students, many of whom were playing around with various Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes products. She was attempting to read in an armchair, and every so often, her eyes would flash upwards in a forbidding manner that reminded Harry of Professor McGonagall. However, this had little effect on the other Gryffindors and Hermione even eventually gave up this practice.

Meanwhile, Ron was the epicenter of attention and it was safe to say he was loving every minute of it. He was talking boastfully about the likelihood that his father would be Minister of Magic and several hangers-on were assuring him that he had nothing to worry about. Harry knew that Ron was particularly enjoying the attention of a few simpering fifth year girls.

Harry thought he heard Hermione murmur something like, “Honestly…” He laughed quietly and pushed his way towards Ron, who was again recounting the latest poll results from The Daily Prophet.

“Is your dad confident he’s going to win?” Harry asked curiously, when he finally reached Ron’s side.

Ron shrugged nonchalantly, rumpling his hair in a fashion that caused at least one girl to sigh in admiration. Harry was forcefully reminded of his own father at Ron’s age.

“He’s not sure. The polls are in our favor, even with Thicknesse’s latest climb. You know, my dad, he isn’t conceited so he’s not going to give himself the election until the actual poll results are in. That’s why he’ll make such a good Minister of Magic.”

“Wish we could say the same about you,” Dean Thomas muttered. In spite of himself, Harry laughed.

A pretty blonde fourth year---Harry thought her name might’ve been Sandra, but it was possibly Jessica---looked at Ron glowingly, “My father says your dad will make a wonderful Minister of Magic. He says what this country needs is some humility and strength. I think we’re all tired of Fudge.”

Ron nodded sagely. “I think that many will feel that way tomorrow.” He then suddenly stood up and shot some sparks out of his wand to get everyone’s attention. Everyone looked at him curiously; he was standing on top of a sofa, a goofy expression of happiness plastered to his face.

“Listen, everyone, as many of you know, my dad‘s running for Minister of Magic tomorrow. This could very well be the day that helps turn things in our favor in the fight against You-Know-Who. So if my dad wins tomorrow, we’re gonna have a party. The bill’s ON ME!”

The Gryffindor crowd roared raucously, already imagining the night of revelry ahead. Harry saw out of the corner of his eye that Hermione was rolling her eyes before immersing herself in the book once more. Ron came down off his perch and looked around at the girls once more.

“Are all your parents voting for my dad tomorrow?”

They all nodded. Ron grinned in satisfaction.

“Well, listen, ladies, I rather feel like taking a swim so I’m off to the prefect’s bathroom. The password is ‘Stinksap.’”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock as the girls burst out giggling. Ron looked at them once more, trying and failing to look impressiver. He then nodded at Harry, “See you later,” and walked out of the common room, his robes billowing behind him.

A scant few minutes later, the group of girls followed him through the portrait-hole. Harry shook his head as he watched them leave. When did Ron become so good at charming witches?

“He’s acting like a bit of an arse, isn’t he?”

Harry turned around and smiled at Hermione, who had come up behind him and was watching the portrait-hole with a mixture of disgust and surprise.

“Well, he hasn’t had a lot of moments of glory,” Harry reasoned. While this was true, he had to admit that Ron was letting this get to his head a bit too much. And his dad hadn’t even won yet!

“He had the Quidditch Cup last year.”

“Well, you saw how he was after that.”

Hermione snorted, “Yeah, I reckon if we hadn’t told him about Grawp, he would’ve retold us at least 150 times about his various saves.”

Harry then looked at Hermione, “You don’t think he’ll do anything in the bathroom, do you?”

“This is Ronald Weasley,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s not Don Juan.”

“Yeah, I still wouldn’t mind being him right now…” he muttered, half-joking.

“Boys…”

“I knew you would say that.”

“Honestly, Harry,” said Hermione, “if you wanted to, I bet half the girl population of Hogwarts would go on a late-night swim with you.” Harry noticed a slight blush creeping onto her face as she said the last part.

Including you? Harry wondered silently. Just as he was about to scold himself for thinking such thoughts, they were interrupted but the appearance of Ginny Weasley in the common room. She had been gone since before dinner and her usually beautiful and well-kept hair was disheveled and her clothes looked even worse.

“Where have you been?” Hermione asked coolly, as Ginny began fighting her way through the throngs of Gryffindors.

“None of your business,” Ginny shot back. She shot one coquettish smile at Harry; Harry felt himself get a little hot under the collar and looked away. Unfortunately, this little twitch did not go unnoticed by either Hermione or Ginny. Ginny smiled broadly at Hermione and then made her way up to the girls’ dormitory.

“Honestly,” Hermione said, for possibly the millionth time in her life. However, this one was not infused with as much scorn as she could usually muster. She seemed a little disappointed.

Harry smiled uneasily at Hermione. “Listen, I’m going to go up to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right,” said Hermione, that look of mild unhappiness still hitched to her face. “Goodnight, then.”

Harry got the sense that something was wrong, but perhaps it was his just his tiredness talking. She’ll be alright, he thought, and walked slowly up the stairs.

***

When Harry woke up the next morning, he became immediately aware of the fact that the bed beside him had not been slept in all night. Where was Ron? He laughed---there was no way Ron had spent the entire night in the prefects’ bathroom.

After taking his shower, Harry wandered down to the Gryffindor common room and found it deserted, save for a lump sprawled on the couch. As he walked closer, he realized that lump was Ron.

He shook him awake and looked amusedly down at his best friend. Ron eyed him blearily.

“Oy, what time is it, mate?”

“Around 8:30.”

“Why are you up so early?”

Harry looked at him curiously, “It’s not that early. I just couldn’t sleep…why didn’t you sleep in your bed?”

Ron grinned. “I was too tired from last night.”

“What’d you do?”

Other people began to straggle into the common room at this point and Ron lowered his voice to account for the intrusion.

“Well, I could hardly believe those girls actually joined me for that swim. But anyway, I got to see six of ’em in bikinis and I guess we just kinda swam around for a little bit. It was getting pretty late when we were heading back to the common room so we were trying to watch out for Filch; I mean I could get away with it, being a prefect and all, but those girls would’ve been in trouble. So anyway, at one point, we had to hide in a few empty classrooms because I think Filch was onto us. It didn’t help that those girls couldn’t stop giggling. Anyway, we finally got back here around 3 in the morning.”

Harry felt a slight twinge of jealousy at Ron’s escapades. He certainly wasn’t having any real fun like that.

“So, are you still coming to Hogsmeade?”

Ron nodded, “Yeah, I told Luna I’d go to Zonko’s with her.”

“Since when did you become a ladies’ man?” Harry sniggered.

“I’ll show you later---it’s fail-safe. Hermione will be like butter in your hands after you look at this,” Ron said earnestly.

Harry rolled his eyes, “I told you, it’s not like that.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why you asked her to the Yule Ball.”

“Hey, I went with Parvati Patil last time around!”

“Whatever. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

As Ron was going up, Hermione came down from the girl’s dorm. Her hair was tied back into an ergonomic ponytail and she looked anxious.

“Have you heard anything about the election yet?”

Harry shook his head, “It’s only 9, Hermione. The polls just opened an hour ago.”

“Even if it gives Ron a bigger head than Grawp, we need Mr. Weasley to win the election. Thicknesse isn’t a bad guy, but all the same, I think it’d be better if a friend of Dumbledore’s is the Minister. What time did Ron come in last night, anyway?”

“Three.”

“THREEE?” Hermione screeched.

Harry had to laugh. “Apparently, they were trying to dodge Filch the whole time. “

“I’m sure,” Hermione said severely. “Well, he better hurry up. There are several things I need to buy in Hogsmeade.”

Harry nodded absently as Hermione began to talk about the different things she was looking forward to do in Hogsmeade that day. His mind had drifted back to Ron’s “fail-safe” way to charm witches. I wonder who I’d use that on. His dream of Hermione sprung to mind, but Harry tried to push that away. He knew he certainly hadn’t helped any attempt to keep Hermione at a friend’s distance by asking Hermione to the Yule Ball. She’s going to look beautiful that night. In spite of himself, Harry smiled.

“And then I expect that we’ll meet up with Kalie to look up some of those ingredients for our potion---and, Harry…HARRY! Are you even listening to me?”

“Er…what? Yeah,” Harry said. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then why are we meeting up with Kalie?”

Harry thought hard. “Because she’s nice? And pretty?”

Hermione groaned. “I honestly don’t know what’s worse---that you didn’t listen or that you actually used that as your guess.”

“Hey, it was possible.”

“Yeah, if I’m a lesbian. Can you imagine that?” Hermione laughed scathingly.

Harry swallowed hard. “Er…no. Ha, that wouldn’t make any sense.”

He was spared further embarrassment by the reappearance of Ron, who only gave courteous nods to the well-wishers today. He looked nervous and even his smile towards Harry and Hermione seemed slightly forced.

“Seamus told me that The Daily Prophet is predicting an upset Thicknesse victory,” Ron reported apprehensively.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Hermione, although she didn’t look convinced. “The Daily Prophet never knows what it’s talking about.”

“If you say so,” Ron said dubiously.

They went down to breakfast in silence, all their thoughts fixating on the Ministry elections. Professor McGonagall had informed them last night at dinner that Dumbledore had gone to London to help supervise the compilation of the votes as part of his duties as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

After gulping down some eggs, Harry followed Ron out the Great Hall as they trooped their way out to the carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade. They were joined in their compartment by Neville and Kalie. Hermione saw this as the opportunity to remind Harry as to their real reason to going around Hogsmeade with the pretty Ravenclaw.

“Harry, we’re going to look for ingredients for that bravery potion. I don’t even know if the stores are going to have all the ingredients we need. Some of the stuff is pretty rare---I think we ought to see if we can get powdered dragon claw. I don’t know if we’ll need it or not, but it’d be great to have it handy.”

Harry nodded, “Sounds good, Hermione.”

But Ron was groaning, “Do you have to talk about school when we’re going to Hogsmeade?”

“Well, it’s better than fretting about your dad’s election.”

Ron had no response to that, but Hermione acceded to his request and the rest of the ride passed by with a spirited conversation about their latest D.A. meeting. Kalie was sure she was going to produce a Patronus soon; she had spent several hours the night before practicing, even ignoring her boyfriend’s requests for a walk.

“I’d be so scared if I had to face a Dementor,” she confided. “I’m not the happiest person all the time anyway and I think I’m more vulnerable to an attack than most people. I have to be able to produce a Patronus.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t think it really matters how happy you are---when you meet a Dementor, it all gets sucked out of you fast. You just have to have the presence of mind to get that happy thought going.”

She nodded, but before she could say anything more, the carriage ground to a halt. They stepped off the train and Harry could see that Ron’s eyes were searching for a certain fifth-year blonde. Luna spotted them first and began making her way through the crowd of students.

“Hey, Hermione, I promised Luna I’d go to Zonko’s with her. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all. Harry, Kalie, and I will pick up those ingredients now. Neville, do you want to join us?”

Neville grinned, “I think I’d rather kill myself. I don’t want to have to think about Potions ever again. I think I’m going to go to Honeydukes.”

Harry sighed enviously.

“How about we meet at the Three Broomsticks in an hour?” Ron asked.

“We’ll be there,” Kalie replied.

Harry followed Hermione and Kalie as they began traipsing their way through the village of Hogsmeade. Potions-shopping was not high on his to-do list for the weekend but he knew that he owed it to them to at least make himself present.

He found his mind wandering as they searched shop by shop for each obscure ingredient. Both Hermione and Kalie were extremely interested in the various things they were buying, but Harry reasoned that he would have to look at them in Potions class anyway. And Hermione will explain everything then. When the long hour was finally over, Harry led the group eagerly to the Three Broomsticks.

Ron and Luna were already waiting for them in a booth, two frothing glasses of butterbeer placed in front of them. Luna had a dreamy look on her face, but Harry was not sure if that was because of Ron’s company or if she was just in a different world at the moment. After ordering three more butterbeers for themselves, the new group slid into the booth.

“How was hunting for ingredients?” Ron asked in a mock-serious tone.

“It was actually fine, I’ll have you know,” Hermione replied indignantly.

“Harry?”

Harry looked very hard into his butterbeer with prompted a laugh from Ron. When he glanced up, Harry was surprised to see he could see the slightest trace of a smile on Hermione’s lips. She looked like she was trying not to laugh as well. Her eyes were crinkled in a cute manner and Harry concentrated on trying not to stare.

They were joined a few moments later by Neville and Mike Levine, Kalie’s boyfriend, who had met at Honeydukes. The two were carrying several bags of candies and Ron eyed it hungrily.

“Don’t worry,” Neville grinned. “We’re saving some for the party tonight.”

“Speaking of which,” Hermione said. “Does Madam Rosmerta know anything new about the polls so far or is it still pretty quiet?”

“I didn’t ask,” Ron frowned. “How would she know?”

Hermione pointed to a few of the wizards who had been Apparating in and out of the Three Broomsticks.

“I’m sure some of the people who have been in and out of the pub know what the results have been so far.”

Ron nodded and went up to the bar, his ears tingeing pink when Madam Rosmerta rotated to face him: he was very conscious of her very full curves bouncing into view.

“What can I do for you, dear?”

“Er…do you know how the election’s going?”

She smiled engagingly at him, “A bloke who just left said that the scuttlebutt at the Ministry is that Thicknesse is leading the first results. However, it’s still pretty early so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Thanks,” Ron said stiffly and walked back to the booth.

“Don’t worry,” Hermione immediately said, patting his shoulder unconvincingly. “I’m sure it’ll all work out for the best.”

“Your dad’s going to win. I know it, ” Luna announced, finally breaking off her far-away look and staring directly at Ron.

Ron looked at Luna like he had never seen anything quite like her in his life. She looked serenely straight back at him, unblinking.

“Luna, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Kalie’s squeal of happiness was cut off by Mike clamping a hand over her mouth. Luna looked mildly surprised.

“Of course I’ll go. Thank you, Ronald.”

Harry glanced sideways and saw Ron’s face break out into a broad grin.

“That leaves only you, Neville,” Kalie said, smiling at him. “Want me to set you up with one of my Ravenclaw friends?”

“Er, no,” Neville shook his head vigorously. “I want to go out with someone on my own merit. I already have someone in mind.”

They were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Ron’s fan club. They walked into the store, chattering up a storm. Harry noticed that one of them seemed to be humming, “Weasley is Our King.”

It didn’t take long for them to notice Ron and they immediately rushed over the table. If he didn’t know any better, Harry would’ve sworn that Luna’s eyes had narrowed for a split second. However, when he glanced back, they were as protuberant and glazy as ever.

“Hello, ladies,” Ron said easily. Harry wasn’t the only one who noticed Ron’s switch in persona. He suddenly sounded much older and more mature. “Are you all feeling awake today?”

“Oh yes,” replied the prettiest one. The others giggled. “Are you excited for the party tonight?”

“Of course.” Ron rumpled his hair. “I’ll see you all tonight.”

They didn’t miss the hint and began to walk away, still giggling. Several of them kept looking back at Ron, which would only induce more tittering. Finally, they reached their own booth and began to lock into conversation.

Ron looked back at his friends, who were all looking at him with a mixture of amusement and astonishment in their eyes.

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“Hello, ladies,” Hermione imitated in a near-perfect voice.

The others began to guffaw and Ron blushed.

“I was just playing around. They’re nice girls, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Harry snorted.

The others continued to laugh, but Harry noticed that Luna’s laughter seemed a little harsher and inauthentic.

They spent the rest of the day wandering around Hogsmeade, hearing random predictions for the election every now and then. Eventually, they took to ignoring these as well, as they seemed to differ from minute to minute and even second by second. The only certainty appeared to be that Fudge was destined to lose.

They found their pockets considerably lighter due to the loss of Galleons; however, their arms seemed to be picking up that weight tenfold due to the increase of possessions. Harry had spent quite a bit more in Honeydukes than he had expected to, but N.E.W.T. classes had seemed to give him a desire for indulgence.

Around five-thirty, they found their way back to the castle and began to eat their dinner in a contented silence. The election results would be due any time now and there was nothing to do but wait. Ron would fidget occasionally, but Harry found himself looking at the clock. The polls close at five…the results might be out by now…

Just as they were beginning to tuck into treacle tart, Professor Flitwick burst through the doors.

“It’s done! They’ve announced the winner!” he shouted. He nearly tottered over in excitement.

“Who?” several hundred voices chorused.

“Arthur Weasley!”