1. The Day After ...

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

Title: It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (01)

Author name: Romulus Lupin

Author email: galigad@yahoo.com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers:SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF

Summary: Professor McGonagall enters the Gryffindor Common Room to a sight that can set anyone’s heart a-flutter, or turn one’s mind to carnal thoughts. But what is she doing in the Common Room in the first place – and on the day after Halloween?

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Author notes: Dedicated to briarswt, who has helped resurrect this story from the crowded depths of my befuddled mind. :D

This was originally posted in the Astronomy Tower in October 2002, when I was a mere newbie in the fandom, and porkey.org was still a glimmer in the eyes of Nappa, Heaven and James. I never did bother to post this here mainly because I never did think of it as being either at par with my later fics; at the same time, I never could think of it as being at the same level as the other wonderful stories from so many talented authors who inhabit PK.

Imagine my surprise, therefore, when I saw this on the Fic Rec threads – and learned that the story was the subject of a fic-hunt started by briarswt, to which tonti quickly responded.

Major glomps to both of you, and to the wonderful Super-Mod, pen (gal-txtr).

I am posting the fic mostly as is; keep in mind, however, that this was posted months before OotP came out.

Chapter One: The Day After …

It was a sight that would set anyone’s heart a-flutter – and even a nun’s mind to carnal thoughts.

It certainly had that effect on Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Magic and Witchcraft, and head of Gryffindor House.

The Gryffindor Common Room looked like a tornado had passed through it – either that, or the house-elves had not had a chance to clean it up. This was rather likely – since the Common Room was not as empty as one would have initially supposed it to be.

She could see two very familiar heads over the top of the couch that was facing the common room’s main fireplace. A brown-haired head was resting on the shoulder of a black-haired boy whose unruly hair was standing up in all directions – it was apparent from their positions that the girl was sitting on his lap, and they had both fallen asleep that way, entwined in each other’s arms … and Professor McGonagall got the sudden, irreverent thought that they’d fallen asleep while brushing each other’s hair with their fingers.

She smiled -- a small smile to be sure, but a smile nevertheless – an action that would have caused the mouths of at least half the students in Hogwarts, and probably half the wizards and witches of Britain to drop open in shock.

Such a thought, however, never even entered her head – what she actually thought was that it was high time that the sight before her happened. She’d been watching the two with affection ever since their first year at Hogwarts (and an incident involving a troll, a bathroom and Halloween), and was happy that they had taken the next step in their relationship.

She was happy for them.

She heard a soft giggle from the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitories. Putting on her accustomed mask of sternness and hauteur, she turned her unsmiling eyes towards that area, but caught only the merest flash of red athletic pants as whomever it was scampered out of the way.

A sudden flash of intuition told her that it was probably Cindy, a first-year Gryffindor who, with her best friend Carolyn, were present – or had instigated – the only time in recorded history that Professor Severus Snape ever cracked a joke – or a smile.

The story went that the two (along with the other first years) were leaving their Transfiguration classes when Carolyn or Cindy (it was never established which one) had blurted out, “I think Professor McGonagall’s a virgin. You know, ‘Never Been Kissed, Never Been Touched’?”

None of them had noticed the tall, greasy-haired figure in a billowing black robe, who was walking swiftly, and silently, behind them. As he passed the students, however, they heard him say, “That’s what you think!”

The group had been so shocked that they froze in their places. Snape, his robes still billowing about him as he passed, had also paused – and looking straight at the two young Gryffindors, given them a wink before moving on.

The story had flown around the castle within minutes … no one, not even the Slytherins, believed it. None had the courage to approach Professor Snape to ask if the story were true … although the Weasley Twins had tried to gather enough money to bribe the Terrible Two (as they were now being called) to ask Professor McGonagall to settle the issue of her virginity.

The two had flatly refused, pointing out that life as a pair of pincushions was no fun, and then turning the tables by telling the Twins that they should ask Harry to do it for them. When asked what Harry had to do with it, it was Carolyn (the then-perceived to be quiet as a mouse half of the duo, compared to Cindy the Whirlwind) who pointed out that Harry was obviously McGonagall’s favorite, next to Hermione Granger.

Professor McGonagall successfully stifled a laugh that threatened to pass her lips – laughing would have guaranteed heart attacks from half the student population of Hogwarts. Truth be told, she thought to herself, the reverse was true – it was Harry Potter who was her favorite student, something that would have guaranteed an epileptic attack to the brilliant, exceptional teacher’s pet, Hermione Granger.

And as for the other thing, she smirked to herself. “That’s for me to know, and for them to find out,” she thought. “Besides, it was something only I and … someone else … would know.”

She turned away from the scene before her to compose herself. Much as she hated to disturb the idyllic, and undoubtedly romantic (though clichéd) view in front of her, she still had her duties to perform. Some one (or some ones, she amended herself) was responsible for the greatest piece of Halloween mischief since the days of the legendary Marauders – and she was bent on finding out who … even if it meant losing the House Cup that year.

She turned back to the two people on the couch, and suddenly froze, silenced before she could even speak a word – and she didn’t know whether to Disapparate or run for the nearest shower!

Harry Potter was awake and had started planting small, feathery kisses all over Hermione’s forehead. The latter slowly woke up, a smile lighting up her face. She reached up and grabbed the other’s head and their lips met in a long, deep, soul-searching kiss when she noticed Professor McGonagall standing behind them.

With a muffled shriek, Hermione tore her lips from Harry and scrambled to her feet as he, surprised at her sudden move, fumbled around for his glasses. As the two finally got thoughts and themselves together, Professor McGonagall’s eyes followed their every move – and she breathed out a huge sigh of relief as she saw that neither one was fumbling too much with their clothing.

“So, they’ve been snogging the night away,” she thought as she valiantly fought down the laugh threatening to break out of her. “Good … it’s been a long time in coming.”

She kept her face calm and impassive, in the manner that all students, especially these two, expected from her. Although she did want to disappear into the nearest hole, she had to stand there, and watch Hermione’s face as she tried to think up a reasonable excuse, defense, or explanation for what they had just been doing.

Taking pity on her favorite students (although she would have cheerfully threatened to cut off her own tongue before admitting that Potter was her favorite), she spoke out in her patented, icy-cold voice that always sent shivers down students’ backs: “Mister Potter. Miss Granger. I want you to get all the Gryffindors down here right now.”

“Professor?” Hermione squeaked, accompanied by a puzzled look on the part of Harry Potter.

“Now, Miss Granger.” The two bolted for their respective dormitories, unwilling to face that wrathful presence any longer. When they were gone, McGonagall’s eyes scanned the room once again – and suddenly stopped at the sight of a large Halloween pumpkin floating on the floor in front of the fireplace, a fairy or two within giving off an eerie light that shone out through its carved eyes, nose and mouth – as well as a lightning-shaped scar on its “forehead.”

2. Remembrance of Halloweens Past

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

Title: It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (02)

Author name: Romulus Lupin

Author email: galigad@yahoo.com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers:SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF

Summary: Why is the Fat lady absent from her portrait this Halloween night? And why should Ginny be wandering the castle without seeing where she is going? Why is Hermione comparing Harry to Linus? And why is Harry comparing her to Linus’ blanket?

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Two: Remembrance of Halloweens Past …

Hogwarts Castle Corridors
6:00 in the evening (Halloween)

Ginny Weasley silently led the first-year Gryffindors along the myriad corridors and staircases of Hogwarts Castle, heading for the Great Hall and the traditional Halloween feast. She was walking on auto-pilot, trusting to the knowledge burned into her from four years of wandering the corridors to bring them safely – and speedily – to their destination.

Ordinarily, the job of escorting the first years would have fallen to the House Prefects – in this case, to Gryffindor Prefects Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Harry, however, was still on the Quidditch pitch, practicing – their first game (as usual, against Slytherin) was coming up in a few weeks. Hermione, on the other hand, was working on a special project with Professor Flitwick, and had been running late. She was still in the library doing research, and had practically begged Ginny to fetch the first-years from their dorms and make sure that they all arrived at the Great Hall in time for the feast.

Ginny smiled, sadly. She knew that Hermione had another reason for asking her to escort the first years to the feast, a reason that her friend thought she could hide from the world …

“Is there anything wrong, Hermione?” she’d asked gently, as they sat together in the library.

She watched as Hermione gave a guilty start, as if she’d been poked in the side with a hot needle, but she knew that she would not receive an answer as a determined look dropped like a mask over the other’s face.

She sighed. Ginny had become closer to Hermione over the years, although admittedly, they had never been as close as Harry was to Hermione. Still, there were some things that girls cannot hide from each other – and Ginny knew what Hermione’s problem was.

Hermione had fallen in love with her best friend.

Ginny could pinpoint the exact moment she realized that Hermione was in love: at the conclusion of the Second Task of the Tri-Wizard tournament. She had been standing beside Percy, getting more and more agitated, when the hour had passed for the champions to return – and Harry had not yet shown up with Ron.

She had been beside herself with worry, torn with the fear of losing her brother – or losing both Harry and her brother. She’d watched as Viktor Krum dragged a still-sleeping Hermione up the bank, transfiguring himself back into human form, the two of them being wrapped tightly in blankets and forcibly fed Pepper-Up potion by Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse.

She’d felt a stab of jealousy at the sight – Viktor Krum, star Seeker of the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team, Durmstrang Champion, had thought highly enough of Hermione to think of her as the “one he will miss the most” … while Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the person she’d had a crush on since she was little, and (most importantly) the person who saved her life in her first year at Hogwarts, thought that her brother was the one he missed the most.

It was only her worry for Ron (and yes, she admitted to herself, for Harry) that kept her rooted to her spot beside Percy. While she kept an anxious lookout on the lake, she kept stealing envious glances at Hermione and Krum – and a shock of surprise ran through her when she saw Hermione keeping the same anxious lookout, totally ignoring every attempt by Krum to talk to her.

Hermione looked as if she was ready to throw off her blankets and head back for the lake herself, if it were not for the heavy hand that Madame Pomfrey had kept on her the whole time. Hermione’s fear and concern mirrored her own – and Ginny felt a warm glow in her heart at Hermione’s obvious concern for the welfare of her brother, in spite of the blazing row they’d had the night of the Yule Ball.

She felt like someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water over her when the first words that Hermione said when Harry emerged from the lake with Ron and the French champion’s little sister was, “Harry, well done! You did it, you found out how all by yourself!”

She’d watched in utter amazement as Krum tried desperately to draw Hermione’s attention back to himself, and all that Hermione would say was, “You’re well outside the time limit, though, Harry ... Did it take you ages to find us?”

Harry Potter, the prat, had answered Hermione automatically – apparently, he did not even notice that Hermione was trying to cover up the fear, panic, and apprehension she had gone through as she waited for Harry to emerge from the lake.

On the other hand, it seemed that Harry did not share the same sentiment He continued treating Hermione the same way he’d been treating her through the whole five years of their friendship – as his best friend, along with her brother.

“Boys!” Ginny thought with a sigh. They can be total prats, to say nothing of dense … thick … dim … stupid … Harry ignoring, not even acknowledging, all that Hermione had done for him – and totally missing the fact that his best “friend” was in love with him. And Ron, totally oblivious of the fact that there was no way that he and Hermione will ever get together … they were just two totally different people. Their relationship was a major personality clash – the only thing keeping them together was Harry Potter.

Ginny lurched to a sudden stop as the thought hit her, totally unmindful that the whole group had stopped along with her, puzzled at her action. Was that the real problem, she wondered? Harry and Hermione together formed a cohesive whole – with no place for a Ron in their lives; Ron and Hermione, on the other hand, would still have a place for Harry in their lives.

Except that Hermione was already in love with Harry.

Which meant that there would be no place for her brother in their lives.

Her boiling thoughts were interrupted, however, by a shy voice breaking into her consciousness, “Ummm … Ginny? Is there something wrong?” Startled, she looked at Ca (who had asked everyone to call her that, to avoid confusion with another Caroline in second year as well as with the Fat Lady) who was looking at her with concern.

Before she could respond, Cindy the Whirlwind stepped in, “Is this the shortest way to the Great Hall?”

Surprised, Ginny looked around and realized that they were in a vaguely unfamiliar part of the castle. She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she must have missed a turn, or the corridors had shifted, or the stairways had moved … with a sigh of exasperation, she led the group in another direction which, she hoped, would lead back to the Great Hall.

There was something vaguely disquieting about this corridor, Ginny thought. Luckily, Sir Nicholas, Gryffindor Tower’s resident ghost, popped out of a wall, and asked, in a reproving tone of voice, “Lost, are we, Virginia Weasley?”

Before Ginny could reply, she heard Ca, who had wandered off a bit, asking, “What’s this?” as she pointed to a wall.

The others looked to where she was pointing, seeing nothing but a wall with faded writing on it. As they approached, they could just barely make out the words “chamber,” “opened,” and “beware.” The younger Gryffindors looked at it curiously, unsure of what the words meant – when Sir Nicholas called out in a shaken voice, “Children! Children, come on … you don’t want to miss the Halloween feast, do you?”

As the group started walking away, Sir Nicholas hovered beside a tense Ginny, who was trying to control herself as she fled that particular corridor. The ghost touched her arm, which sent a shiver down her spine, and she looked up at Sir Nicholas. She gave him a small nod, smiled – and walked to the front of the group to lead them to the Hall.

Four years before, the words were newly painted in foot-high letters:

“THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.”

* * *

First Floor Girl’s Bathroom
Hogwarts' Castle
6:15 that evening (Halloween)

Hermione Granger was running down the hallways towards the Great Hall, reprimanding herself for running late. She’d asked Ginny to escort the Gryffindor first-years, so she could concentrate on her project for Professor Flitwick – something she had to give up in defeat an hour before, since her mind was not on her work.

She sighed in irritation. She’d been delighted at being named a Prefect (despite all the teasing she got from Ron) but she hadn’t counted on her duties eating into the quality time she spent with her best friend.

That thought had been enough to chase away any thoughts of schoolwork, special projects, prefect duties and even You-Know-Who out of her mind for the past hour.

She’d spent most of that hour with a singular litany in her mind: “Why should I be thinking that way?” she asked herself. “The three of us are friends … friends … friends!”

Which had always been accompanied by a peculiar response: “Ron Weasley is a friend … Harry Potter is … is …” She kept refusing to fill in the final blank, simply because she wasn’t sure what the answer was.

Or rather, she was not sure what Harry’s answer was.

Best friends, of course.

But that was what Harry said.

She was not sure of what Harry thought.

She sighed to herself. If there was one thing that she knew, it was the fact that what Harry said was often far different from what he actually thought. Certainly it was the result of his early life with the Dursleys, when he wasn’t allowed to have an original thought and where, to make life easier for him (though it did not succeed as well as it should have), he’d consciously separated what he said to them from what he thought about them.

She’d paused for a few minutes, to let her rage at that incomparable family boil off … if it hadn’t been for the restrictions that Professor Dumbledore had placed on Harry during the summers, she’d have brought him home herself, rather than allowing him to spend even one day with the Dursleys.

She finally brought her mind back to the question confronting her: what was Harry Potter to her? And, by extension, how did this affect her relationship with Ronald Weasley, the third half of their Trio, the third member of the Dream Team?

And she kept coming back to the litany and its counterpoint: Ron was her friend … Harry was her … her …

‘All right!’ she thought angrily. ‘Let’s approach this from another direction. If there was no Harry Potter in my life right now … I’d probably be in the library or in the Prefect’s bathroom, crying my eyes out, wondering what in hell I’m doing in Gryffindor instead of in Ravenclaw … which wouldn’t be that much of a life, anyway.’

She considered that thought, and shuddered. No matter Ravenclaw’s reputation as the House of the Learned, they were still people – and the enviousness and pettiness that marked others were just as present among the Ravenclaws, and perhaps, even more. She remembered Padma Patil, Parvati’s twin, crying in the library numerous times in their first year as she tried to cope with the vicious infighting among her housemates as they strove to excel academically.

Maybe that’s why Cho Chang is such a good Seeker, she thought. She’s found something to excel in, outside of academics – something to build her own identity upon.

She cut that train of thought, and pondered the question of what her life would be without Ron in her life … I’ll probably be in the same boat. Still Harry’s friend … still Harry’s faithful Indian companion … or probably more.

It would still be Harry and her … for the first year or so. By which time, we’d probably be driving each other mad … Harry, experiencing for the first time a life without the Dursleys, would have wanted to enjoy every minute of his life at Hogwarts while she, on the other hand, would have wanted to study every minute she had.

The problem was, she reflected, that without Ron backing him, Harry would not have been confident enough in his first year at Hogwarts to take the kind of chances he did … he’d probably not have gone after Malfoy and Neville’s Rememberall during their flying lesson (she remembered with a smile telling him off before he flew off after Malfoy), which meant he’d probably not be the youngest Seeker in a century … probably not sneaked out for that midnight duel with Malfoy which led them to the third floor and Fluffy …

Which probably meant that You-Know-Who would have been resurrected in their first year – and there would have been no Harry Potter in her fifth year at Hogwarts. He’d probably be dead by now … and she would be living a life as close to death as possible, having no Harry Potter in her life.

She pushed those morbid thoughts out of her mind, and refocused on the crux of her internal discussion. If there had been no Harry Potter in her life … if there had been no Ron Weasley in their lives …

She’d probably have no life.

She sighed. The truth was … they’d both needed a Ron Weasley in their lives. He provided the balance that Harry and she needed in their first years at Hogwarts – someone to guide Harry during his first tentative steps in the wizarding world, and someone to pull her away from books, the library, and the rules …

But things were changing. They’d started changing last year, when that stupid prat had the temerity to doubt Harry’s word about the Goblet of Fire … or perhaps the change had started in third year when he’d assumed that Crookshanks had eaten his stupid rat … or in second year when she had run into the Great Hall screaming, “You solved it, you solved it!” right into Harry’s arms … or maybe …

This was getting her nowhere.

The fact remained – she felt whole and complete with Harry Potter in her life … she could live without a Ron Weasley in her life … but times were better when both boys were in her life.

The problem was … she’d fallen in love with one of them.

So, the question becomes, where does that leave the other?

She snorted. Before she could even ask those questions, she needed an answer from the one she loved. Was the feeling mutual, or were her feelings hers alone?

She wondered again, for the thousandth time, how it had happened … and she knew that she had no real answer for the how … or even the why … or even the when. It always felt like it was there the whole time … ever since the two boys had rescued her from the troll …

Arrrgggh! This was aggravating! She was back on the same merry-go-round … no real solutions, except for that singular resolution: she felt whole and complete with Harry in her life … she could live without a Ron in her life … but her life was definitely more complete with both in her life: Harry beside her, Ron somewhere in the orbit of both their lives.

But not the other way around.

She looked at her watch and was surprised – an hour had passed? And she hadn’t gotten any work done? No matter … Professor Flitwick wasn’t expecting anything from her for two weeks, anyway. She’d have time to work this out tomorrow … if only she can resolve the problem facing her … she sighed.

She did not have any answers. Those will have to come from Harry and Ron: Harry, in terms of his feelings for her; Ron, with regard to how he will deal with the changed situation.

She’d better hurry.

With that, she packed up her things, and dashed out of the library. On the way, she realized that she needed to freshen up … but the Prefect’s bathroom was too far away … never mind, there’s a girl’s bathroom somewhere here …

While she was washing her face, a feeling of unease suddenly hit her. She stared at her face in the mirror, wondering where that feeling was coming from … she stared at the sink in front of her, and noticed infinitesimal cracks all over it … she suddenly walked towards one of the stalls, and saw cracks a few feet above the floor … and she knew.

She burst out of the bathroom at a run, shocking several passing students, and almost hitting two girls in the face as she swung the door open. She didn’t apologize to anyone, almost running away … ignoring the stares of the students who’d seen her leaving the bathroom.

Five years ago, in that same bathroom, on this same day, was the start of her life and adventures with The Boy Who Lived.

***

The Fat Lady’s Portrait
Gryffindor Tower
6:20 p.m. (Halloween)

Ron Weasley was running late, but he wasn’t that bothered about it. For one thing, he thought, he was not a Prefect, although his best friends were … and he was happy about it – he didn’t know how he could keep his life organized between Prefect duties, Quidditch practice (he was now the House Keeper, ‘lord, how he hated that term!’), and studies … with Hermione constantly on his back to study for their O.W.L.s, even though the O.W.L.s were months away…

All in all, he was happy … content … satisfied with his life.

Except for one thing.

There was a subtle undercurrent in his relationship with his best friends … there was something … different about it these days … and he, for the life of him, couldn’t put his finger on what that was.

He’d first noticed it in Harry, during the summer he’d spent with Ron at The Burrow. Harry had been … withdrawn, was the best way to describe him when he re-joined the family … more quiet … somehow, more watchful of what was going on about him …

Serious.

That was the word he needed. The Harry he remembered would have been ecstatic on reaching the Burrow, being able to escape the Dursleys for a few weeks before the start of classes. He’d have been great fun … playing Quidditch with the brothers in their paddock … joining them as they de-gnomed the garden … chatting with his Dad about Muggle ways and appliances …

The Harry of last summer was serious. He joined them at Quidditch, but it was apparent that his mind was elsewhere … he’d de-gnomed the garden when invited – but he threw the gnomes with a force that was unnatural for him (he used to be rather gentle with the gnomes, only resorting to brute force when attacked) … and, the real shocker came when he expressed an interest in Ginny’s Arithmancy studies!

Ginny had been happy about it, of course – it meant more time for her to be with Harry, but even that ecstasy had been short-lived. She’d admitted to Ron that Harry was really interested in her lectures and notes on Arithmancy (she’d had a grand time explaining things to him) … but she felt that his mind was not there all the time.

Which was rather an aggravation to her.

Or was it?

Thinking back, Ginny wasn’t irritated with Harry’s lack of attention to her … she’d actually been concerned about it, but more in terms of Harry’s well-being, rather than his inattention to her femininity.

Ron, like the rest of the family, had put it down to the trauma of the Tri-Wizard tournament … Molly Weasley had warned them all not to mention what had happened, unless Harry wanted to talk about it … he’d assumed that Harry was still carrying around some burden of guilt because of Cedric’s death and the resurrection of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named …

But that wasn’t all of it.

There was something in the way that Harry kept glancing out the window every time they sat down to breakfast; as if he was waiting for something to come crashing in … again, everyone had assumed that it was the trauma of Voldemort’s return … but Ron realized something else was happening.

Harry was waiting for Hermione.

He didn’t know when he’d first realized it … afterwards, he kept wondering how he’d missed it.

Was it when he realized that the look on Harry’s face every morning was not one of relief at having gone through another night without nightmares – but a look of disappointment that there was no letter from Hermione?

Maybe he was still shaken at Harry’s seriousness when he arrived that he’d missed the meaning behind Harry’s statement, when he was wondering if Hermione was enjoying her time in Bulgaria with Vicky: “She didn’t go to Bulgaria. She’s in France with her parents.”

Did he misread the look of joy on Harry’s face the day Hedwig arrived with a letter from Hermione, telling them that she was arriving at The Burrow the following day? Harry had quickly hidden that look from them … in fact, it was so fleeting that even Ron wasn’t sure if he’d seen it – and had soon forgotten about it.

Or maybe it was because of his excitement when Hermione arrived that he’d missed the different way they’d greeted each other? He’d been literally bouncing the whole morning, waiting for Hermione to arrive and complete their Trio … Harry, on the other hand, had been quiet and pensive … which he’d ascribed (as usual) to the trauma of their fourth year.

He’d literally grabbed and swung Hermione around when she’d arrived at The Burrow, happy and exuberant at having the Dream Team complete once again. Harry, however, had hung back … watching from the sidelines, as it were. When he put her down, they’d simply looked at each other for a long moment … and then they’d stepped forward at the same time … and then, they were hugging each other tightly.

He’d been too busy picking up Hermione’s luggage (and trying to avoid Crookshanks’ claws) that he barely heard what they were murmuring to each other. Even now, he couldn’t be sure if he heard correctly: “Welcome home, Hermione,” while she was simply saying, “You’re all right, Harry … I was so worried.”

They’d broken apart before he could complain about being left with the luggage … the days that followed were quiet and idyllic, the old team was back in place and functioning … but even then, there was something different.

Like the almost daily walks the two would take in the evenings or early mornings. He’d assumed at first that they went out to meet with Sirius (who was still a fugitive, even though Arthur and Molly knew the real story by now). He’d confronted Harry about this one time before they went to sleep – Harry merely looked at him and told him that he just wanted to take a walk, and that Hermione was kind enough to join him.

He’d asked what they’d talked about – and Harry said, “Nothing. We just walked.”

He joined them the next day, and found that they talked about … nothing. They were just walking … he’d tried to be as quiet as they were, but found it difficult. He’d ended up chattering away, and the two alternately laughing or commenting to him, but not really talking to each other.

But they’d known where they were going … turning left or right at some signal he never caught … deciding it was time to start walking back without either one mentioning it … it was annoying. The strange thing was … he never felt they were hiding anything from him. They were just … walking.

He never joined their walks again.

The day the school owls arrived with their letters was another such shocking day. Hermione had opened hers, and squealed with delight on seeing the Prefect badge that everyone expected her to receive. He’d started teasing her, as had the twins … and he started teasing Harry about not teasing her … only to fall back in shock as Harry showed all of them his Prefect’s badge.

Hermione had jumped into Harry’s arms and hugged him at that. He’d congratulated Harry, of course, along with a few choice comments about abandoning him … and, though Harry was laughing, there was … something … which continued over the past three months.

They were both acting like prats, especially when he was around.

That stopped him, a few feet from the Fat Lady’s portrait. They were acting like total prats … was it because they felt they were abandoning him?

He knew he could be a stupid, dumb, insensitive git, as his behavior last year had shown anyone, blind or not -- he didn’t need Ginny, the Twins or even Hermione to tell him that.

He didn’t have to be smart, bright or considerate to know that Harry was in love with Hermione. The summer at the Burrow made it obvious.

As was the fact that Hermione was in love with Harry. He could see how she acted – the one time he joined their walk was enough proof of that. They’d been acting like his Mum and Dad – no need for words to communicate what they wanted to do, the looks they exchanged … their hug when they saw each other again...

They were in love with each other.

It was as obvious as the trees that surrounded the Burrow.

So, where did that leave him?

If there was one thing that the past two years made obvious … it was that he could live a life without Harry or Hermione. He’d drawn away from Hermione in their third year when he thought Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers … and he’d pulled away from Harry last year when the Goblet of Fire made Harry a Hogwarts Champion.

He was able to live a life without either one … granted, he felt incomplete, but he knew that if he’d worked at it, he would still be the same Ron Weasley. Maybe he wouldn’t have the grades he had now (for which he will always be eternally grateful to Hermione) or he would not be as well known as Harry Potter (being the best friend of The-Boy-Who-Lived was better than being “just another Weasley.”)

But he would still be Ronald Weasley. Youngest male member of the Weasley clan. Current Gryffindor Quidditch Keeper. Co-founder of EWWW! (“Every Woman Wants A Weasley!”). An average – or above – average wizard with red hair.

Without Harry Potter … he would be just another Gryffindor with red hair. Still, all things considered, it was not a bad life. There were other Gryffindors he could hang out with, study with … have fun with. Granted, there wouldn’t have been the kind of adventures that he’d had with Harry … but it would have been a safer, more boring life…

Without Hermione Granger … he snickered to himself. He’d probably have a more relaxed life. A lot of people found their constant bickering cute … only the three of them knew how much it took away from them. The day he found a know-it-all bookworm who didn’t make him want to start arguing, he’d up and marry the girl … unfortunately, that was not Hermione. Thank god for Harry, who had more patience and understanding in his little finger than he ever had … but then, this is Hermione we’re talking about, right?

But what about them? Where would they have been without him? Probably in the library, cleaning out dusty books, or studying Arithmancy and Ancient Runes … talking with Hagrid about the care and feeding of Blast-Ended Skrewts, Aragog (he shuddered), Hippogriffs, and even Basilisks!

And probably bored out of their skulls … or Harry would be. Which would lead to arguments … fights … battles … and the thought flashed through his mind: Harry Potter with glasses but with his red hair and freckles, teasing, arguing, fighting with Hermione about transfiguration, potions or the library …

He shuddered.

Would they be in love with each other, if he were not around to have provided a balance in the early years?

Maybe not … or they will have found a way to work it out.

Harry will find a way to work it out.

He never would.

But now that they were in love … was there going to be a place for him in their lives?

His mind was pursuing this line of thought as he approached the portrait and absently gave the password. He walked on – and slammed into the still-closed portrait. He bounced back with a muffled yelp – and realized that the portrait was empty. Before he could start wondering where the Fat Lady had gone, the portrait opened – to reveal Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas stepping out.

Ron didn’t even bother to ask where the Fat Lady had gone, but ran up to his room to shower and change, mumbling thanks as he passed the two Gryffindors. He pushed the questions about his friends to the back of his mind … and wondered, briefly, why the Fat Lady wasn’t at her post.

It was while he was in the shower that it suddenly hit him like a fist in the stomach.

Two years before, on Halloween, a still-maddened and impulsive Sirius Black had slashed the Fat Lady’s portrait when she refused him entry to the tower. Sirius had been after Peter Pettigrew, renegade Marauder and Animagus that, at the time, was masquerading as his pet rat, Scabbers.

***

The Great Hall
The Evening Before
6:45 p.m. (Halloween)

Harry Potter was standing in the entrance to the Great Hall, watching the clouds of bats flying around the high-ceilinged room, moving among the giant pumpkins floating in the air, fairy lights or candles within giving an eerie glow to their carved faces. His eyes were fastened on a particularly large pumpkin floating serenely in mid-air, much like a matronly queen surrounded by fawning attendants.

Anyone who knew him well would know that something was bothering him. There was a blank look on his face as he focused on the floating pumpkin, and his right arm continually twitched, as if he were about to draw his wand and cast curses left and right.

Someone who could read his mind would have been shocked to learn that that was exactly what he was thinking – except that his hand was twitching to draw his wand and blast the offending pumpkin to smithereens.

There had been one such pumpkin floating above him during last year’s Halloween feast. He’d been watching it, having lost interest in the teacher’s table when Professor Dumbledore had announced Cedric Diggory as the Hogwarts’ champion … and he wasn’t paying much attention when the Goblet of Fire launched another parchment into the air … he’d actually been musing about Linus and his infatuation with the Great Pumpkin, when he heard his name called out.

And that was the start of another horrendous year for him …

He pushed those thoughts from his mind. He’d given up going over the events of last year over and over again … at some point, he’d given up on feeling guilty for being the cause of Cedric Diggory’s death at the hands of the Dark Lord. He’d finally realized (as he did the night that he learned about Neville’s parents) that he had nothing to do with it at all … if there was anyone to blame, it was Voldemort and his insane lust for power.

Cedric was only the latest victim in Voldemort’s insanity … a list that stretched back over years … his parents, the Longbottoms, the Bones (he watched as Susan Bones, a Hufflepuff from his year passed him, wondering if she was related to that family) … others that he did not even know about …

With an effort of will, he cast around for a pleasant memory to counter the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him … and came up with the smiling, brown-haired and brown-eyed face of his best friend.

Hermione Granger.

If there was one thing good that came out of fourth year, it was the realization that Hermione meant something more to him than just his “best friend.” She was not just the brainy friend who helped him perfect the Summoning Charm as well as other hexes and charms to help him get through the Third Task … she wasn’t just the loyal companion who didn’t abandon him when it seemed that everyone had turned against him (somehow, he could still remember the taste of the toast she brought him the day after Halloween last year) … she wasn’t just that striking beauty he saw at the Yule Ball – so different from his everyday memory of her that his mouth had dropped open (and his brains had probably rolled out as well) …

She was Hermione.

Best friend. Constant companion. Guide and teacher. Sometimes a pain … but always, always with his best interests in mind. Founder of S.P.E.W. (he grinned and waved at Dobby as he passed by.) Sometimes she mothered him too much (he smiled as he remembered her wheedling him to eat something before his first Quidditch match).

His guardian angel.

His angel.

If there was one thing that he will have to thank The Great Pumpkin for, it will be that of giving him the presence of mind to remember that Hermione had been crying in the girl’s bathroom during their first Halloween at Hogwarts.

He briefly pondered what it would have been like without Hermione in his life – and pushed the thought away. He didn’t need that feeling of having a dozen dementors hovering around him, sucking away every bit of happiness he felt when thinking about her....

A life without Hermione? He couldn’t conceive of such a thing now. And if she didn’t feel the same way about him … Things would not change. She would still be Hermione … she would still be his best friend … she would still be his guardian angel …

He hoped.

If she were a real guardian angel, she’d have long gone back to the Archangel Michael begging for another assignment. He didn’t want to count (again!) the number of times she’d been with him on his adventures and crusades … the number of times she’d been battered and bruised being with him, starting with the “midnight duel” in first year … or the number of times she’d stopped breathing whenever he played Quidditch …

He didn’t want to remember her face covered with fingernail marks, when she’d clutched it in fear during the First Task last year. Or the look on her face when he dragged himself into the hospital wing with Dumbledore at the end of the Third Task.

She’d given so much of herself to him over the years.

And now … he was not sure if he could ask any more from her.

If there was one thing that last year had pounded into his (admittedly) thick skull, it was the value of thinking things through, rather than plunging recklessly into danger – and too often, dragging Hermione or some other friend with him. Although he’d given up on his guilt over Cedric’s death, there were times when he still wondered if things would have been different if he’d thought things through, rather than letting the allure of winning the Tri-Wizard Cup rule him.

He would not make that mistake again.

This time, he will let his head rule. This time, he will follow his head, not his heart … he will not plunge recklessly into the fire of his passion and love for Hermione … he will take it slowly … he will take it logically … he will give her all the space she needed to think …

A soft voice murmured in his ear, “Why hello there, Charlie Brown.”

Startled, he turned to face the voice, and met a pair of brown eyes sparkling with mischief and glee. He checked his sudden impulse to kiss those eyes (and everywhere else on that face, for that matter) and contented himself with an upraised eyebrow. “Charlie Brown?” he inquired.

Hermione giggled at the look on his face; he knew as well as she did what she was referring to – or did he? They both heard giggles from behind them, and turned to see several Ravenclaw first years quickly slip past them

Harry poked her shoulder and said, “Charlie Brown? You mean Linus, don’t you?” as he waved his hand at the large pumpkin floating above their heads.

“Linus?” She asked him, perplexed. “You’re not a Linus, Harry … you don’t go around sucking your thumb, you don’t carry a security blanket with you …”

“You’re my security blanket, Hermione,” he whispered. That stopped her cold. Did she actually hear Harry say that?

Before he could respond, a commotion at the doorway drew their attention. They turned around in time to see Draco Malfoy enter the Great Hall -- with his trademark smirk, and wearing only a pair of pumpkin-patterned boxer shorts.

3. The Great Pumpkin

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

Title: It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (03)

Author name: Romulus Lupin

Author email: galigad@yahoo.com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers:SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF

Summary: The Great Pumpkin is a figment of the imagination, right? So why are FOUR pumpkins rising out of Hagrid’s pumpkin patch? Where are they headed? And why is one of them heading directly for Gryffindor Tower?

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Three: The Great Pumpkin

The Gryffindor Common Room
Midnight (Halloween)

Groaning with contentment and feeling happy with the day, the Gryffindors gathered in their Common Room after the feast. It had extended way beyond its normal course, helped along by impromptu presentations by the Hogwarts’ ghosts as well as the musical entertainment provided by the Weird Sisters, whom Headmaster Dumbledore had invited to, in his words, “spice up” their traditional Halloween feasts.

It would have ended earlier were it not for an impromptu karaoke contest masterminded by the Weasley Twins, with each house putting up its own contestants (to everyone’s surprise, Neville possessed a smooth and enchanting baritone that provided a perfect counterpart to Lavender’s enthralling soprano).

As the students dragged their sated bodies up the stairs to their dormitories, Hermione noticed the Terrible Two walking to one of the windows to look out, she remembered, at Hagrid’s hut and the now-emptied pumpkin patch.

She’d felt a momentary stab of worry for the gentle half-giant, who was still out of the country on some mission for Dumbledore. The thought of Hagrid brought a sudden smile to her face as she remembered the events of the evening.

The Halloween feast had been as delicious as usual, the laughter and banter around the tables as animated as ever, with occasional snickers and loud laughter as they remembered Draco Malfoy’s humiliating entrance that night – and constant speculation as to who had cast the charm or the hex that made Draco’s entrance into the Great Hall so memorable (and, to ensure that no one will easily forget, Colin Creevey’s ever-trusty wizard camera had caught the whole thing for posterity!)

The Gryffindor Prefects suspected that the Terrible Two had something to do with it … but their only basis for that suspicion was that the Gryffindor first years entered the Hall immediately behind the smirking Draco Malfoy. Ginny and Ron, who were escorting the first years in, however, hotly denied that they – or any other Gryffindor for that matter – did the deed. Harry and Hermione suspected, however, that the two were not entirely truthful … there was a suspicious blush on the cheeks of the Terrible Two (although, to be fair, Cindy always had rosy cheeks) …

They had both decided to forget about the question of whodunit … what they both didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them …

Harry and Hermione sat beside each other as always, while Ron and Ginny were opposite them. Ca and Cindy were seated beside Ginny, and they were all happily chatting away when Fang, Hagrid’s hugely frightening but extremely amiable boar-hound, bounded into the Great Hall, dragging a couple of house-elves who were trying to restrain him. Hagrid had left Fang in the keeping of the house-elves; Fang, on the other hand, had other ideas and almost always made a beeline for Harry every time he had a chance.

This time was no exception; he had placed both paws on Harry’s shoulders and was slobbering all over him, to the great amusement of the others at the Gryffindor table. Harry was trying to fend off Fang, saying, “Geroff me, you big git! Sheesh, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?”

Hermione, finally taking pity on him, stood behind Fang and started scratching him behind the ears – a move that made Fang sit down and look apologetic to the people around him. Hermione grabbed a whole chicken from the table and gave it to Fang, who clamped the morsel between his jaws, stretched out on the floor beside Harry, and proceeded to eat. The house-elves looked at Professor Dumbledore, who shrugged at them with a twinkle in his eye; taking that as their cue, they bowed to Harry and Hermione and left Fang to his meal.

Hermione looked at Harry with a wide smile and commented, “Told you that you were Charlie Brown, Harry. Now all we need is Pigwidgeon flying around like Woodstock to complete the set.”

“Well, Fang is certainly no Snoopy, Hermione – but I suppose you can be Lucy? You gonna charge me ten Knuts an hour for ‘psychological counseling’?” Harry responded with a grin.

“For you, Harry, ten Sickles an hour is just right. Besides, if I charged you for every hour we talk, I’ll probably own your Gringott’s vault by the time we graduate from Hogwarts.” At the other end of the table, Lee Jordan suddenly burst out laughing, catching almost everyone else by surprise. Chortling, he called out, “That’s telling him, Hermione! Don’t let him get away with being ‘famous’ Harry Potter for nothing!”

The people at their side of the table looked at him in surprise and confusion, as Hermione smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Finally, Ron swallowed his food and asked, “What’s all this about Charlie Brown and Lucy? Who are Charlie Brown and Lucy? And what does Pig have to do with it?”

Hermione laughed, and proceeded to tell them about the famous Muggle comic strip that had been a fixture in Muggle newspapers even during the time of her grandparents. Seamus Finnegan, whose father was a Muggle, suddenly joined the conversation, “Wasn’t there something about a … a Great Pumpkin or something?”

Hermione smiled, “Yeah … one of the kids, Linus, always spent Halloween in the pumpkin patch.”

“Why?” Ginny asked, interested.

“Well,” Hermione explained, “he believed that every Halloween, the Great Pumpkin will rise out from the pumpkin patch and bring gifts to little boys and girls around the world. So, every Halloween without fail, the comic strip will show Linus in the pumpkin patch, sometimes with Charlie Brown, sometimes by himself, or Charlie Brown’s dog Snoopy, waiting to see the Great Pumpkin rise from the pumpkin patch.”

“That’s nice,” said Ron.

“Well, one thing you gotta say for the guy,” said Hermione, “he had faith. No matter that he never actually saw the Great Pumpkin, he still kept going back to the pumpkin patch every year to wait.”

“That’s cute,” Ginny said. Looking up at the pumpkins hovering over their heads, she continued, “I wonder what the Great Pumpkin will be bringing us this year.”

Hermione felt a sudden chill in the air at that statement – and remembered her inadvertent entrance into the bathroom she’d been avoiding for years. She was surprised to see Ginny and Ron staring down at their plates for a moment (she didn’t know of their encounters with their Halloween memories) before looking up and catching her eye. Almost at the same time, the three cast a look at Harry, whose eyes were suddenly closed as even he recalled the events that started with the Halloween feast last year.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny said softly. “That was most … tactless.”

Harry opened his eyes and smiled at her, although the laughter was not evident in his green eyes. “It’s all right, Ginny. So far, nothing’s happened … except for Malfoy’s pumpkin pie drawers!”

The laughter that followed had dissipated the tension somewhat, and the announcement by Headmaster Dumbledore of the evening’s entertainment soon diverted their attention from the question that had chilled the air.

***

Hermione quietly approached Ca, who was looking out the window with her friend Cindy beside her. “Waiting for the Great Pumpkin to come, girls?”

Both girls turned to her with (Hermione thought) rather guilty expressions. She wondered for a moment what they had had planned when Ca spoke up, “My mother gave me a Charlie Brown book when I was little … she’d had it since she was small. Every year, at Halloween, she’d tell me about the Great Pumpkin – and remind me never to lose faith that there was magic in this world.”

“And then you learned that there really was magic in the world,” Hermione said, remembering the day that the letter from Hogwarts arrived at her house. She was surprised, however, when Ca did not respond to this; it was as if she had, for some reason or another, known about the existence of magic.

The two girls made their excuses, and proceeded up the stairs to their dormitory. Hermione stared after them for a while, wondering at the conversation and the feeling she had that Ca was hiding something.

She was about to pursue the thought further when a movement out the window caught her eye. She looked out and her mouth dropped open. Forcing a breath in, she gasped, “Harry? Harry!”

Harry, hearing the tension in her frightened voice, was beside her in seconds, followed closely by Ginny and Ron, who had decided to sit up for a while with them. What they saw outside the windows caused sharp breaths to be drawn all around …

Rising majestically from the pumpkin patch were one … two … three … four … pumpkins with carved faces and an ethereal light shining from within … soon followed by another, smaller pumpkin that trailed in the wake of the magnificent four.

They watched, transfixed, as the five pumpkins floated high in the air and approached the castle, flying in a line astern formation – which soon broke up as the pumpkins started moving in different directions around the castle.

And one of them – a pumpkin with a lightning bolt-shaped scar – was heading directly for them.

4. The Gifts of the Pumpkin

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

Title: It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (04)

Author name: Romulus Lupin

Author email: galigad@yahoo.com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers:SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF

Summary: ‘Every Halloween, the Great Pumpkin rises out of his pumpkin patch to bring gifts to all good children around the world.’ So, what did the Great Pumpkin bring for Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny?

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Four: The Gifts of the Pumpkin

The Gryffindor Common Room
Midnight (Halloween)

Harry drew his wand, preparing to blast the pumpkin to smithereens when he felt Hermione’s hand on his, pulling his wand down. “Harry, this is Hogwarts,” she said in a reasonable voice. “I doubt if You-Know-Who will be dumb enough to try to pull a stunt like that … besides, what would he know about The Great Pumpkin?”

Harry looked at her oddly, but decided to let it go. He still kept his wand ready, however, as The Great Scarred Pumpkin (as he called it in his mind) flew majestically towards them. As it approached, their window opened (apparently magically), and the pumpkin flew in to hover a foot above the floor of the Common Room.

The four friends stared at the pumpkin and glanced nervously at each other, none of them willing to make a move.

“Step back, guys!” Harry finally said, breaking the sudden silence. “Get behind something … if this thing blows …”

As Ron and Ginny huddled behind a large couch, he stepped forward – only to be stopped by Hermione. “Harry,” she said in a quavering voice, “if there’s something in it …”

They stared at each other for a long moment … and with a sudden resolution, both stepped forward and tapped the pumpkin with their wands, all the while prepared to drop to the floor (Harry positioning himself to cover her, just in case.)

Nothing happened.

The two looked at each other again, an unspoken conversation taking place through their eyes … with a nod, Harry grabbed the top of the pumpkin and pulled it out, at the same time, lunging towards Hermione and throwing her to the floor, with his body covering her.

Nothing.

After a few seconds, Ron spoke up from behind a couch, “Harry? You can stop shagging Hermione … I don’t think it’s gonna blow.”

A suddenly flushed Harry Potter and a furiously blushing Hermione Granger picked themselves up off the floor. They gathered around the pumpkin … and suddenly gasped.

Inside the pumpkin, a foot-high troll doll lay, clutching a club in one hand and … a small House Cup in the other. As Harry pulled it out, he saw, to his surprise, that the House Cup was accurate in all respects – down to the plaque which had the words, “Gryffindor House, 1991” on it. Harry stared at it for a long moment, and silently handed it to Hermione, who was looking at it in shock.

Ginny, who had stepped up to the pumpkin, looked inside – and shrieked, jumping away from the still-floating pumpkin. Ron, who was opposite her, also took a look and, with a laugh, pulled out a long, green toy serpent wrapped around a picture frame. He silently unwound the snake from the frame – and with a huge grin lighting up his face, handed the picture to Harry.

Harry took one look at the picture – and blushed as deeply as the hair on the Weasley’s heads. Ginny, who had recovered from her initial fright at seeing what she thought was a baby basilisk, grabbed the picture from Harry before he could protest. One look … she passed the picture of Harry and Hermione hugging each other in the Great Hall to Hermione – whose blush now rivaled that of Harry Potter.

Ron, in his turn, took a look -- and pulled out a large, fluffy, toy hippogriff. Silently, he placed it on the table … a pensive mood suddenly overtaking him as he looked up at Harry and Hermione. Ginny stared at the three, wondering yet again at the experiences and secrets that they shared.

Since none of them were moving, she glanced at the pumpkin -- and noticed that flames had appeared in the opening. Looking inside, she pulled out a large goblet with a red flame flickering on top … she recognized it at once – the Goblet of Fire. With shaking hands, she carefully placed it on the table beside the other gifts.

At that moment, the flames in the Goblet turned green, casting an eerie, flickering light over the Common Room and the faces of the assembled Gryffindors … but then, the flame flickered out, leaving in its place a rolled up parchment.

Shaken, Harry opened the parchment and started reading. He sighed, rolled the parchment up, and dropped it on the table. With a longing glance at Hermione, he slumped in a chair and covered his face with his hands. Before either of the girls could make a move, Ron snatched the parchment up – and began reading it out loud:

“Halloween 1995

Dear Harry,

The gifts of the Pumpkin are often shrouded in doubt. I imagine that you think the ”gifts” given you these past few years have caused nothing but pain for you and your friends.

Know now, Harry Potter, that even the Great Pumpkin has no control over your destiny. All that has happened in the past came about not through the intervention of the Great Pumpkin, but in spite of it. That you have done well is only a mere indication ofthe strength and courage that lies within your heart.

Follow your heart, Harry Potter. Doing so in the past has always led to good things for you and your friends; do not allow a temporary setback to make you doubt the urgings of your heart.

Follow your heart, Harry Potter – especially now when you confront a question that lies close to your own heart and soul.

There is a time to follow your head … but there are times to follow your heart.

Never try to treat love as an examination you can prepare for. Whatever preparation one makes cannot take into account everything that may happen. And don't try to reduce love to an intellectual exercise. In the end, feeling -- an intangible something -- actually defines it for us

Treat love as an adventure. Nobody wants to be hurt ... no one walks in with eyes closed ... everyone wants to be sure of oneself. But how can we ever be sure unless we try?

Love is one of those intangible, undeniable things that happen -- unavoidable, except by choice.

But then ... who does not make the choice to try?

At the same time, keep in mind that sometimes, the love you hold for a person can never be realized in the usual ways. At the moment of realization, it begins to change ... away from selfishness to one of truly caring without the need for any actual return.

Love is never lost.”

Ron looked at the Harry and the two girls. “It’s not signed,” he said, as he quietly placed the letter on the table beside the toys.

Silence greeted him. All their eyes were glazed, unfocused … their thoughts turned within as they contemplated the words from The Great Pumpkin.

5. Clearing the Air

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

Title: It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (05)

Author name: Romulus Lupin

Author email: galigad@yahoo.com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers:SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF

Summary: Ginny does a drama queen, and Ron goes contemplative. And what about Harry and Hermione?

Chapter Five: Clearing The Air …

“Thank you.”

Three pairs of eyes snapped from their reverie and focused on the person who had spoken. After a moment, Ginny lifted her eyes from their inspection of the toy serpent, and locked on Harry Potter’s eyes.

“The message isn’t just for you, Harry,” she said, with a sad, wistful smile. “I think it’s meant for all of us.”

Harry frowned, puzzled at her statement. Before he could voice his questions, however, Ginny continued: “Before anything else, there is something I must tell you … something I have been meaning to tell you for a long time.”

A look of panic came over Harry’s face. He knew what Ginny was going to say … he’d been dreading this moment for years … fearing the moment when he would have to break little Ginny’s heart … to tell her that yes, he loved her but that he was not in love with her …

With a deep breath, Ginny exhaled, saying in a sad, calm voice, “Thank you for my life, Harry Potter.”

For a long moment, Harry was speechless. Of the many scenarios he had built up in his mind, this was something he never expected. “Ginny,” he said, waving a hand in the air, prepared to pass the gratitude off, embarrassed once more at the prospect of his achievements being brought to the light of day.

“Shut it, Potter.” Ginny's response brought all eyes on her and she looked back at Harry with a glint of determination in her eyes. “For once in your life, shut up and listen when someone thanks you for saving her life.”

Harry closed his mouth.

“I know what you were thinking, Harry. Here’s where I give you my speech of undying love and devotion … this is where I promise that I will wait for you … and hope that someday, somehow, you will look at me in the same way that I look at you.

“But no … you’ve given your heart to someone else. There is nothing that I can do to change that … you’ve both shared too many things together for me to play catch-up …” She glanced briefly at the photo of Harry and Hermione hugging in the Great Hall, and gave him a tremulous smile. “But I still owe you my life.”

Ginny walked over to where Harry was seated. Harry quickly stood up, and Ginny grabbed his hands, holding them tight and, looking deeply into his green eyes, said, “I have never been able to thank you properly, Harry … simply because I have always had my crush over you standing in the way. I always thought that the only proper way to thank you for giving me back my life was for you to fall in love with me … so that I can return what you have given me in full measure, and more.

“I never realized that there are other ways, Harry. I have always thought that there is only one kind of love … but there is friendship, affection … being there to help whenever needed. But you never even gave me a hint that you needed my help, Harry … neither that you needed my friendship.

“I can understand that. But Harry, don’t close your mind to me … don’t close your heart to us … those who you have touched over the years. Myself … Fleur Delacour’s sister… Neville ... my Mum and Dad. You cannot give your heart to all of us … but we, those of us who can, will give you back the friendship, affection, and trust you gave – in equal measure or more.”

Harry Potter stared at her in disbelief. Was this little Ginny, the girl who followed him around like a fan in her first year? Was this Ginny who, as late as last year, still blushed whenever he came within greeting distance?

“She’s right, Harry.” He turned to look at Ron, who was absently tossing the stuffed-toy hippogriff from one hand to another. “All these (waving the hippogriff at the other toys) … is a reminder that you’ve touched so many people over the years. Not just Hermione and myself … there’s Neville and his Rememberall in first year … Hagrid and all those Petrified in second year … Sirius in third … Fleur’s sister …

“But you know what’s more important to me, Harry? You never failed me … you never turned your back on me, even when I was being a prat or when I wasn’t even there for you.

“Ron,” Harry said in a dangerous voice. He didn’t need reminding of all that … and he didn’t like Ron’s beseeching tone of voice. But Ron cut him off with a gesture.

“One thing that all of this shows me,” and he waved his hand at the assembled reminders of adventures past, “… is that you and Hermione have shared far more together than I have with either one of you.”

“Ron …” Harry tried to interrupt, but Ron continued, “Harry … you were the one who remembered that Hermione had locked herself in the girl’s bathroom in first year … you found the page in her hand in second year … it was you, Hermione and the Time-Turner in third year … and …” Ron turned away from Harry, “it was you and Hermione for the First Task last year, when I was too stupidly jealous of you to even think straight.”

Ron paused, looking Harry in the eye. “The Great Pumpkin is right, Harry. ‘Love is never lost.’ You may never love Ginny in the way she hoped for … Hermione may not love me in the way everyone hoped she would … but we’ve shared too much together … we owe each other too much … to let something like you falling for Hermione, or Hermione falling for you, to come between us.”

Harry did not answer. He sat down again with elbows on his knees, staring at his feet. Hermione, who had been quiet the whole time, suddenly stood up and walked over to sit beside him. In a soft voice, she told him, “Follow your heart, Harry Potter.”

Without looking up, Harry reached for her hand … holding it tightly for a brief moment before quietly bringing it to his lips.

The awkward silence stretched … all four of them again locked in their thoughts, but with Harry and Hermione quietly holding hands – and with Harry’s lips still touching Hermione’s hand. Ron glanced at Ginny, who was still holding the toy serpent in her hands, apparently thinking back on her first – and almost last -- year at Hogwarts.

“I guess that means no more singing Valentines from you, Ginny.”

“Harry!” Ginny reacted as if she’d been poked with a hot needle – and threw the toy snake at Harry’s head, as a slow blush covered her face to the point where one could not tell where her hairline started – or ended.

A soft giggle escaped Hermione’s lips … followed by a loud snicker from Ron … and then, Ginny smiled. “What a git I was! Remember that dwarf dressed as Cupid singing, ‘His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad …’”

It was suddenly too much for the four friends – their somber mood was suddenly broken as a roar of laughter erupted from their throats, with Ginny’s high, clear laugh rising above the laughter of the two boys and Hermione. Ron was so taken with hilarity that he inadvertently kicked the still-floating Great Pumpkin and tipped it over … and a cascade of tarts, pumpkin cauldrons, cream cakes and other pastries spilled out on the table.

“Food!” shouted Ron.

“Ronald Weasley!” Ginny said, shocked. “Can't you think of anything but food? You already had four servings during the feast!”

“Can I help it if your great dramatic scene with Harry gave me an appetite?”

“I wasn’t the only one with a great emotional scene, Ron Weasley! Honestly!” Ginny rolled her eyes at him, as Harry and Hermione smiled at each other. Her eyes suddenly narrowed as she watched Ron opening one of the cakes.

“Ron!” she half-shouted, as she reached over and plucked the cake that was almost at his mouth. “Are you sure of that? Who do you think will be giving out cream cakes at a time like this?”

Ron, irritated at having the tasty morsel taken from him, looked crossly at her -- and then, his eyes widened. “Gred and Forge?” he squeaked.

“Either them or the Terrible Two,” Ginny replied.

“But they couldn't! Do you think they know enough to put all these together?” Ron protested, sweeping his hand at the pumpkin, the gifts and the parchment

“Do you want to risk it?” Ginny responded.

After a moment of contemplation, Ron replied, “No.”

And then his smile returned, albeit with a decidedly evil glint in it. “I vote that we leave the goodies out here -- and ask those four to test it for us.”

Ginny smiled. “Now, that's what I call a plan!”

Grinning, Ron turned to Harry and Hermione – and felt his jaw dropping to the floor with an audible ‘thud.’

7. The Day After (Continued)

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

Title: It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (07)

Author name: Romulus Lupin

Author email: galigad@yahoo.com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers:SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF

Summary: Why did Professor McGonagall go to the Gryffindor Common Room? Where did the other pumpkins go? Is there really something between McGonagall and Snape? Does Snape own pumpkin-patterned boxers? And what are two lion cubs doing in the Common Room?

Chapter Seven. The Day After (Continued) …

The assembled Gryffindors stood shivering outside the doors of Hogwarts (where McGonagall had sent them earlier), staring bemusedly at Professor Flitwick (with a hand over his nose) who seemed to be casting charms at a large pile of clothes. He was surrounded by Slytherins, many of who were casting angry, even hateful, glares at the assembled Gryffindors.

“What’s going on?” a bleary-eyed Fred Weasley asked Harry. The latter shrugged, mumbling something about a McGonagall on the warpath. A sudden shift in the wind suddenly sent the Gryffindors coughing … it was as if someone had distilled the contents of the Hogwarts’ sewage system into a single, overpowering stench.

“What was that?” George said, his eyes watering, and coughing loudly. Ginny quickly conjured a wind-blocking charm which she had learned from Hermione to deflect the wind … which did nothing to stop the smell which, they finally realized, was coming from the Slytherins – and the pile of clothing that Professor Flitwick was casting charms on.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, looking accusingly at the still-coughing Twins who suddenly straightened up and stared at Harry with hurt expressions in their eyes.

“That wasn’t us, mate!” Fred said.

“Oh, no! If it were us … d’you think we’d have waited for Halloween?” George seconded his Twin.

Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged at him in a ‘don’t look at me!’ gesture. He looked around at the assembled Gryffindors, suddenly noticing that Hermione was missing … along with Cindy and Ca. He was about to ask Ginny if she had seen Hermione, when the latter called out to him from the castle’s doors.

He turned around and saw Hermione coming out of the castle, with a struggling Crookshanks in her arms, and leading two lion cubs who were playfully swatting at each other as they gamboled along.

“Uhmmm, Mione …”

“It’s Carolyn and Cindy,” she replied. “I stayed behind to make sure that no one was left in the girl’s dormitory … when I got to the Common Room, I saw the two eating some cakes, and then …” She gestured at the two lion cubs who were now playing at her feet, and she stared accusingly at Fred and George.

“We didn’t do it, Hermione!” The Twins replied at once.

“Honestly!” George said in a movingly injured voice. “We haven’t even got to that yet…”

“Yeah! We were just experimenting … Owww!” his twin said, suddenly breathless from the elbow to the gut that George launched. “I mean … we haven’t even perfected that product yet …”

“What exactly does that mean?” Hermione asked in a dangerous voice. She looked ready to turn both boys, even if they were older and in their Seventh Year, into weasels for their trouble. Crookshanks, however, distracted her as he suddenly leaped at the playing cubs … and started hissing, and pawing the two.

She tried to grab Crookshanks when Harry suddenly wrapped his arms around her. “Let him be, Mione! It’s probably his only chance …”

Hermione cast him a puzzled look.

“The ultimate male fantasy … playing with two young girls. Owww! That hurt!” he said, as Hermione swatted his head. Before she could do any further damage, Professor McGonagall’s arctic cold voice further chilled the air: “Are all the Gryffindors here? What, in the name of Merlin, is that?”

Professor McGonagall’s mouth – and her square glasses -- had dropped at the sight of the three cats playing on the ground, surrounded by smiling Gryffindors. She placed her glasses back on her nose, and her suddenly piercing eyes lasered out at the Weasley Twins.

“We didn’t do it, Professor McGonagall! Promise!” Fred and George responded, right hands up, left hands over their hearts, in their best aggrieved-that-you-would-even-think-of-us-doing-something-like-that manner.

“Uh, Professor,” Hermione broke in, “what’s going on?”

Professor McGonagall, her laser-like eyes still focused on the protesting twins, replied in a cold, barely in control voice: “Last night, someone sent several pumpkins to the House common rooms. The one sent to the Slytherins apparently contained several dozen …” she struggled to find a word, “improved dung-bombs.”

“Improved?” Harry questioned. At that moment, the wind shifted again, sending the horrible smell from the Slytherins (it was now apparent that even the clothes they were wearing had the same smell) wafting over them and sending everyone, including McGonagall, into another coughing fit.

“It wasn’t us, Professor! I swear on Professor Dumbledore’s wig that we didn’t do it!” Fred said in a loud voice.

“He wears a wig?” Lee Jordan, the Twin’s best friend, suddenly broke in – only to quail as McGonagall’s eyes bored into him. “Sorry,” he squeaked.

“What about the other Houses, Professor?” Harry stepped in before McGonagall could turn Jordan into a pumpkin. She looked ready to turn the Twins and their friend into pumpkins and start bouncing them around, much like Professor Moody (or Crouch) had turned Draco Malfoy into a ferret last year.

The question successfully diverted McGonagall from the Twins. “Three Ravenclaws were turned into eagles in their Common Room; I think Miss Bones and Miss Abbot are walking around as badgers in the Hufflepuff …”

“Too bad Malfoy didn’t turn into a snake,” Ron said, as he spotted Draco Malfoy staring daggers from among the assembled Slytherins. He raised his voice, “Still wearing your pumpkin drawers, Malfoy?”

“Quiet, Mr. Weasley.” McGonagall’s voice had turned even colder than anyone thought possible, sending shivers down the spines of everyone within hearing – even the three cats on the ground froze, and were looking at her with bemused expressions on their faces. “What I want to know is … who did these? When I get my hands on those responsible … it will be a cold day in June before they finish their detentions!”

The Twins were about to protest their innocence yet again, when a calm voice broke in, calling out, “Professor McGonagall!”

All eyes turned to the voice of the Headmaster – and Professor McGonagall suddenly stumbled backwards – whether in shock or surprise, no one could tell – to be caught by Harry and Hermione before she fell down. She continued to stare at Dumbledore with her mouth gaping open like a fish out of water.

Professor Dumbledore approached the assembled Gryffindors – white beard and hair sparkling in the morning sun … blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses … wearing resplendent white robes sparkling with winking pumpkins.

“Professor Dumbledore!” McGonagall squeaked.

“Quite fetching, aren’t they?” Professor Dumbledore turned around, showing the students all sides of his robes – and ignoring the snickers coming from the Slytherins. “Actually,” and he raised his voice slightly, making it heard by the Slytherins, “these are Professor Snape’s robes.”

Silence fell.

“Professor Snape?” McGonagall paled … she looked as if she were preparing herself for a fainting spell. “What exactly do you mean, Headmaster? Is this connected to … ” and she gave a vague gesture towards the Slytherins, including the two lion cubs who were now watching developments with interest.

Professor Dumbledore looked keenly at the two lion cubs; his eyes, if that were possible, seemed to twinkle even more. Glancing up at Harry, he said, “Cindy and Carolyn, I assume?”

At Harry’s silent nod, he smiled and threw an inquiring eyebrow at the Twins. He raised his hand before they could protest their innocence. “I believe that this is something that would be beyond the two of you … unless you’ve been studying hard over the summer and the past few months?” The two shook their heads. “Or should I expect better than average N.E.W.T.s from you this year?”

Again, the two shook their heads.

“Ah, well … it seems that whoever did this has a level of expertise far better than any student at Hogwarts.”

“Uhmmm, Professor.” The Headmaster looked at Hermione. She continued, “Uhmmm … what did you mean that those are Professor Snape’s robes?”

“Ah, yes … well.” His smile widened. “Apparently some one sent another pumpkin to Professor Snape’s room. When he opened it, he apparently let loose a curse which … ah … turned all his clothes into something like this.”

Snickers were heard, and quickly suppressed at a single glare from Professor McGonagall. Ron, as usual, couldn’t keep his mouth shut, “Including his boxer shorts, Professor?”

“Ah … ehem … I believe so.” Ron made a valiant effort to stop himself from dissolving into sudden laughter. His face became redder by the second, his breathing came in gasps, he suddenly bent over, clutching his stomach … only McGonagall’s laser-sharp eyes kept him from dissolving into a puddle of laughing Weasley.

“In any case, I offered him one of my robes until … ah, he could brew up a potion to return his clothes to their original colors.”

“Is he all right, Professor?” Harry asked in a concerned voice that was, nevertheless, shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Yes, he is. Apparently, only his clothes were affected. Minerva,” and he turned to Professor McGonagall. “As I was saying, this is apparently something that is beyond the capabilities of any student at Hogwarts … the planning and execution are, to put it mildly, far too exquisite and detailed to be within the capabilities of ordinary pranksters.”

His gaze fell on the two lion cubs who were now swatting at each other, while Crookshanks tried to get them to play with him. His eyes twinkled as he said, “Even for those with the brains of Miss Granger and the hearts of Masters Gred and Forge.”

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to protest, but didn’t make a comment when she saw the outraged expressions on the Twin’s faces. She knew that they had been planning some major mischief as their graduation neared … whoever had done this had effectively stolen their thunder. Nothing they did from now until graduation from Hogwarts will ever top this!

That thought, and the frustration it brings, would be punishment enough for them.

She turned back to Professor Dumbledore with a sigh. “I expect you’re right, Headmaster. This will just go down as another of the many mysteries of Hogwarts …”

The Headmaster nodded.

A slight ‘pop’ was heard, followed by -- “Owww! That hurt!” All eyes turned to see Cindy and Ca on all fours on the grass – apparently, one or the other had been scratched by a still-playful Crookshanks who, bottle-brushed tail standing straight up, was backing away from the two girls.

The two stood up, brushing themselves off and shivering in the cold morning air, and blushing to the roots of their hair, not looking anyone in the eye.

“Ah, excellent!” Professor Dumbledore said. “I hope that means that the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are also back to normal. Miss Granger,” Hermione looked at him. “I suggest you bring your charges to the Hospital Wing for a check-up. The rest of you should proceed to breakfast … and take the rest of the day off.”

Cheers rang at this declaration of amnesty. Harry, however, looked at the Slytherins, still standing around with scowls on their faces. “What about them, Professor?” he asked.

“The house elves will be bringing out food. I expect that their … aroma will not be conducive to eating, especially when confined to the Great Hall.”

“Thank you!” a dozen fervent voices (including Ron’s) were heard.

“All right, then.” With that, the Gryffindors started walking towards the doors of Hogwarts, Hermione with her arms around Cindy and Ca, Harry following them.

“Harry! A moment, if you please.” Hermione looked back at Harry who, with a shrug, went over to Professor Dumbledore.

“A most impressive prank, don’t you think, Harry?”

“Uhm … yes, Professor. Most impressive.” Harry looked at the Headmaster, puzzled. “Was there something you needed from me, sir?”

“Oh, yes.” The Headmaster reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out an old, battered, dog-eared, red pocketbook and handed it to Harry, saying at the same time, “Madame Pince found this in the library the other day … Can you please return this to Carolyn, a gift from her mother, I believe.”

Harry took the book, glancing at the cover – and looked at the Headmaster in surprise. There were several very familiar round-headed characters below the title, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”

The Headmaster looked back at him impassively.

“Professor …” Harry couldn’t ask the questions that suddenly came to mind. Professor Dumbledore, however, apparently read his mind. “As I said, Harry … I doubt that any student could have done all this … at the very least, it would have required some very competent help.”

“I see …” Harry said slowly. Curious, he opened the book – and saw an inscription on the inside front cover:

“Carolyn (he read) …

Your Uncle Remus gave this to me when I was a little girl. Always remember what he told you (and me, when I was younger) – ‘Never doubt the existence of magic in our lives.’

Take care.

Mum”

He looked up at the Headmaster in surprise. “Uncle Remus? As in Professor Remus Lupin?”

“I believe that Remus’ youngest sister was, unfortunately, non-magical. It happens, even in the best wizarding families. But then, it sometimes manifests itself strongly in the next generation.”

“I see.” Harry said, slowly. With a sudden grin, he asked, “Do you think we will ever find out who really did this, Professor? I mean … you did say that a student could have done this with competent help. Like … a Marauder’s help?”

The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled. “Follow your heart, Mr. Potter. You may find an answer there … although it seems that you have found some answers of your own last night.”

With that, he started walking towards the castle, his pumpkin-patterned robes swirling around him … leaving a dazed Harry Potter, with his mouth opened once again, staring at his retreating back.

The End

It's The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter!

1. The Day After ...

2. Remembrance of Halloweens Past

3. The Great Pumpkin

4. The Gifts of the Pumpkin

5. Clearing the Air

6. A Moment Never Measured

7. The Day After (Continued)