Unofficial Portkey Archive

With Malice Aforethought

S. P. Smith

Oddly enough, things were back to normal by Monday. Ron and Ginny were plenty lit about being glued together for a whole morning before Hermione could un-stick them. But the two of them took the whole hugging in a romantic bedroom thing quite in stride. Ginny pointed out that the Room of Requirements was Hermione's plan for Ron, which turned the Gryffindor Keeper red to his ears when he heard it. Ginny herself just hugged Harry and told him she knew exactly what he was feeling. Stranger still, the rest of Gryffindor tower wasn't ribbing Harry or Hermione in even the subtlest of ways. Dean and Seamus hadn't taken the mickey out of Harry that night, nor were Lavender and Parvati gossiping behind their hands when Harry went by. Even Hermione acted as though things were perfectly normal. It was as though the whole practical joke had never occurred.

Harry was sure they were all mental, and was having a hard time not blushing whenever Hermione was in the room. And yet, no one seemed to notice his discomfort. Yes, he decided, they had all lost their minds, and he, Harry, was the only sane one left in the castle.

However, Harry had decided to try to ignore the general madness of Hogwarts and instead follow Hermione's advice. That was how Harry and Ginny ended up snuggled up on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room before a roaring fire after supper on Tuesday. Ginny had taken to slipping off her shoes and playing with Harry's pant leg with her stocking feet. It was odd, but Harry was starting to get slightly used to it.

"You tired, Harry?" Ginny didn't lift her head from his shoulder, where she was staring into the fire, nor did she stop playing with his trouser cuff.

"Not really." Harry was getting a little tired, but Morgraine's Mirror awaited him over his bed, heavy dead, and cold. Every morning, he woke up feeling just a little more tired than he should, and even though his dreams were Voldemort-less, they were full of thick, freezing cold. "I'm good here."

"Well," Ginny said, managing to turn it into a four syllable word. "I wasn't really thinking about staying here, actually."

"Huh?" Harry turned his head awkwardly to look down at the red head on his shoulder. "Where? It's after hours, Ginny?"

"The Astronomy Tower." Her quiet words shot through Harry like ice. The Astronomy Tower? The Astronomy Tower! He wasn't entirely sure what went on up there, but he was pretty sure whatever it was wasn't something he should be doing with the little sister of six large older brothers.

"Um," he answered, fighting to buy time for his mind to catch up to his ears. "Why do you want to go there?"

Ginny squeezed his arm. "Why do you think?" She continued playing with his pants leg.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Harry. Ginny wasn't playing with his trouser hem, she was playing with his leg! Harry'd seen this before, this was footsie! She was playing footsie with him. In public, where anyone could see them. Their feet were just out there in the open. And now she wanted to drag him up to a dark tower with nothing but a good view of the night sky.

Oh boy!

"You, uh, want to stargaze?" Harry inched sideways just a hair's breadth, and moved his leg out of convenient stocking foot range.

Ginny moved back, so she could look up at him mischievously. "Well, I do see stars when you kiss me, Harry."

Yup, the Astronomy Tower was sounding like someplace to avoid like the plague ward just now. "I- I'd love to you, know. Really. But I have some homework to do still."

"Homework?" Ginny blinked at him. "Why did you wait so long to start?"

"Um, bad study habits?" He smiled weakly.

She grinned wolfishly. "Let's practice worse study habits. Don't do it."

As she leaned in toward his ear, Harry slid away and off the edge of the sofa. Only a Seeker's reflexes kept him from hitting the floor. "Can't! It's for Dumbledore ... Artifaction, I mean. Gotta go!"

Harry felt very confident that his strategic withdrawal to his dormitory in no way looked like he was running flat out. He slipped inside, and slammed the door behind him. He wiped his forehead, and looked up to see Ron and Neville watching hims from their game of Wizard's Chess over by the window.

Ron scrunched up one side of his face. "You look a sight. Ginny giving you a hard time?"

Harry's mouth locked open, wordlessly. There was no possible way he could answer any questions Ron might have about what Ginny's version of 'a hard time' looked like. He blinked, thinking quickly. "It's been a long day."

The nonspecific, technically accurate answer satisfied Ron, and he and Neville went back to watch Ron's Queen side Knight decimating Neville's cowering pieces.

Harry crossed to his trunk, and pulled the pieces for his Artifaction project out. He had a handful of tiny rectangular stone chips, a couple of carved wooden tubes, a few brass springs, and a pair of small carved hippogryff heads. He carried them over to Ron's bed and set to work.

"Oy!" Ron called from across the dorm. "Go muck up your own bed!"

Harry gestured at his canopy. "Can't. Mirror."

Ron and Neville shivered and went back to their game. Harry set to work on his project. He figured if he did, then he wasn't really lying to Ginny in order to escape. Harry sighed, and tossed the stone chips down. He knew he had to find a way to keep seeing Ginny without always getting into these uncomfortable situations. He shook his head, feeling like she had a lot of expectations about just what exactly dating him meant, and he wasn't sure he could live up to them. Harry picked up his notebook, set those thoughts aside, and resumed his work.

* * *

Harry jogged down the corridor to the infirmary, even though he was early for his Pre-Mediwizard seminar. All his early morning running was making him faster, and it was starting to feel slightly relaxing to jog someplace. He tossed his pack to one side, and pulled out the tray of half-completed Strength-Replenishing Potions they'd been working on. They were used to replenish the magical vitality of a witch or wizard who was exhausted, but the dragon's blood had to be added just before, since its' effects would only

last a minute. Harry filled the upper ampule with faintly smoking blood before stoppering both upper and lower sections of the vials.

Veruca sidled up to Harry and set to work with him. Since asking the slight blonde about the looks he was getting in class from the other students, they'd been working together on the practicums. Veruca flipped her pixie cut aside, and whispered to Harry sideways. "Cho warpath warning, luv. Our Seeker's got a head of steam today."

"Why?" He finished bottling the last of the dragon's blood.

"You serious or kidding?" At Harry's blank look, Veruca smiled. "Oh, this'll be a sight."

"One Ravenclaw to another," came the frigidly beautiful voice from over Harry's shoulder. "You really don't want to get too close to Potter, if you know what I mean."

Harry and Veruca turned to see Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecomb behind them, working on a set of Burn Begone Flasks. Cho was smiling sweetly, though it didn't reach her dark eyes. Vercua matched her, tooth or tooth. "I'm sure I don't, Miss Chang. Whatever do you mean?"

"Poor Harry's only human, dear." Cho shook her head sadly. "He's already 'dating' that little red head, and I don't think he's got the time to cheat on two girls with Granger."

"What?" Harry couldn't keep quiet at this. "Are you still on about that?"

"Oh, spare me the innocent act, Harry!" Cho snapped at him, her cool appearance finally cracking. "Didn't the Magical Creatures Professor actually catch you in bed with Granger this time?"

"Leave Hermione out of this!" Harry took a step forward, hands fisted at his sides.

"I will if you do." Cho's sweet smile was back. "But you really can't can you?"

Harry was aghast. "Have you been sniffing cauldron fumes?"

Cho ignored him, and turned to address Veruca. "I'm just saying; Potter likes to have Granger around for her mind, and a pretty face along for... other reasons. You're a Ravenclaw. Don't be the pretty face."

Harry snarled. "I think it's time to shut up!"

Cho twinkled, in a manner totally unlike Dumbledore. "I think it's long past time." With that, she and Marietta went back to work. Harry looked up, and saw the entire seventh year Mediwizard class staring at him as though he were the victim of an atrocious broom accident. As one they all turned back to their work.

Harry turned, and slammed a Strength-Replenishing Potion down hard enough to pop both corks out of it. Veruca reached over, and extracted it from his white fist. She whispered to him. "I told you it would be a sight."

"I can't believe she said that."

She pulled the tray of vials away from him, and put it on a shelf behind the door. "Me either."

"I can't believe she'd believe it."

"Hmm," was Veruca's reply.

He turned to look at her, brow furrowed. "And she thinks you're interested in me."

Veruca smiled. "I'm not, though."

"Thank Merlin." Harry slumped slightly.

"You are easy on the eyes, though." Veruca dimpled.

Harry glared at her, to no avail.

* * *

Harry threw his bag irritably under the Gryffindor table, and dropped into his seat next to Ginny. He tossed her a perfunctory smile, and started loading his plate with turkey sandwiches and cranberries. Ginny turned in her seat to look at him askance. "Excuse me, but what's your mood?"

"Nothing." Harry buried himself in the sandwich.

"Don't say 'nothing' to me like that!" Harry looked over at her, sandwich forgotten. The resemblance to her mother was, at that moment, extraordinary.

"Actually, he said something to you." Luna settled herself onto the bench opposite Ginny, tucking her wand behind her ear and pulling sandwich off Ron's plate to nibble on. "It's just that the something he said was nothing. But it's nothing really."

Ginny smiled at her friend. "How do you come up with that on the spot?"

"I'm in Ravenclaw for a reason." She smiled dottily at Ron, who'd just realized his lunch had wandered off. "Even if that hat was very odd."

Ron looked like he was going to broach the subject of the sandwich she was eating, then shook his head and changed gears. "Luna, how come you keep your wand behind your ear?"

"That's easy, Ronald. Try stopping me from stunning you." With that she focused her pale eyes upon him for the first time, and smiled sweetly. Ron looked confused for a moment, then fought to pull his wand from his school robe. In a blink, Luna pulled her wand from behind her ear, and leveled it at the red-headed boy. Then, leaving the wand absently in her hand, she returned to nibbling her sandwich and gazing about the Great Hall.

Ron smiled gently. "Got it. Could you, uh, put your wand away now, though?"

Luna looked back at him, noticing the wand she still held idly to his temple. She tucked it behind her ear with a faint smile. "Of course, Ronald."

Ron shook his head again, and pulled a second sandwich from the salver in the middle of the table, depositing it on his plate. He turned to look down the table at Harry with concern. "So Luna's bit of wit aside, you do look like some thing's got your back up. Want to share with the table?"

Harry took another bite, and answered quietly. "Not really."

"Oh, I can!" Luna blinked owlishly, waving her hand in the air as though she were in class answering a professor. "I imagine Cho was quite horrid this morning. She's been gossiping to all of Ravenclaw tower about Harry and Hermione getting caught in bed together this weekend. I imagine she must have said something to Harry in his Mediwizard seminar. She's been coming up with all sorts of lewd scenarios, and I can't picture her sitting in a class next to Harry and not saying something. Unless she'd been poisoned with curare, as that tends to paralyze the victim, including the vocal cords."

Luna finished up, to find Harry glaring at her from across the table, and a half-dozen Gryffindors staring at them open mouthed. "I meant I didn't want it shared with the table."

"Ah." Luna set her half-eaten sandwich back on the salver, and quietly took a bite of Ron's second sandwich. She turned away to look at the staff table. "I thought you meant you didn't want to be the one to share. I'll try to remember that you don't always speak very clearly."

Ron laughed at Harry's expression, then looked down in puzzlement to find his plate empty. He reached for a new sandwich, and made a face when he pulled back a half-eaten one. He put it back on the tray and took an uneaten one instead.

Hermione reached the table at this point, and slid into the only open space, opposite Ron. She smiled brightly around the table. "So, what are we talking about?"

"Nothing anymore." Luna opened her sandwich to extract the tomatoes before reapplying herself to it. "Harry doesn't want us to talk about it any more. Actually, I don't think he wanted to talk about it at all, but he wasn't very clear about it."

This drew a sharp look from Hermione. Harry slumped slightly. "Cho was... not very nice today."

"Oh, dear." Hermione pulled a sandwich off the salver and set it on her plate unthinkingly. "It was about me, wasn't it?"

"Eh." Harry picked at his cranberries. He didn't really want to talk about what Cho had said. He felt like he should have defended his friend's honor or something, but how was he supposed to fight a girl?

Hermione meanwhile had picked up her sandwich and noticed that it was half-eaten. She held it out at arms reach like a dead skrewt. "Ew! Who's is this?"

Luna smiled slightly. "Ronald's."

Ron turned to look at Luna in outrage, then turn to his girlfriend, who's tossed the offending food onto his plate with a sniff. He looked down to find, not the two sandwiches he'd expected to see, but only the one. Looking over, he saw Luna had his lunch set atop the dissected sandwich she'd been working on. He rolled his eyes at her. "Merlin! Just how many sandwiches do you need for lunch? And do they all have to be mine?"

Luna's grey eyes were unfocused as she stared across the hall. "Fourteen."

Ron pulled back slightly. "What?"

Luna turned her unsettlingly penetrating gaze on him "Sandwiches. I've taken fourteen sandwiches from you before you said anything."

"Are you balmy?" Ron pointed at the half eaten food. "I've only had three. Or tried to have three, anyway. Haven't really had one yet."

"Today, yes." Luna smiled, and nibbled the crust from one side of her newest sandwich. "But Ronald, I've taken eleven of your sandwiches over the last month. I wondered how long it would take you to say something."

She looked away, leaving Ron red and sputtering. "You know, fourteen is a lot of sandwiches for someone who likes food as much as you do."

Hermione giggled at this, and Ron shot her a glare.

Hermione sobered up with a cough, and looked sideways at Harry. "I am sorry about what Cho said to you."

Harry smiled back. "Not your fault she's like that."

"Oh, no, anyone in the least bit perceptive could have told her you two don't have a physical relationship." Luna stole Ron's sandwich directly from his hand. "But you know how some people are; they'll believe the silliest things."

* * *

It was a first; Harry wasn't paying attention in Professor Dumbledore's Artifaction class. He was staring off into the foundry's rushing fires, and thinking deep thoughts about girls, rumours, and feelings. He wondered if anyone had ever felt as frustrated and confused as he did just then.

And it was easy to loose focus in this lesson. Various classmates were presenting their fall term projects, and attempting to demonstrate how they worked. Harry supposed he could let himself get pulled in to the crashing booms of enchantments failing, but he wasn't really that interested in out-of-control toy tops, or trainers that tried to get mud off by shaking it off like a dog, thus spraying the front rank of students with muck. One girl had enchanted a toothbrush to sing whenever it was in use. It was a delightful display of frolicking magic. It didn't suit his mood at all.

Harry planted his chin in his hand. He hadn't thought Dumbledore would make them show off their work in front of their classmates. In the face of all the fun objects his classmates had been working on, Harry didn't want to-

"Mister Potter," Professor Dumbledore called from the hearth, gesturing for him to come forward. "Perhaps you could show us your project next, please." Dumbledore gave him a piercing look over his half-moon spectacles which made Harry wonder if the Headmaster already knew what his project was.

Harry stood truculently, and marched over to a clear area at the front of the room. He sighed, and pulled out a small wooden tube, barely longer than his fist. One end was closed off, the other adorned with a carving of a Hippogryff's head. He held it out for the class to see. With a trainer still wriggling to get rid of some stubborn dirt, a couple of tops hurtling around the floor, the wooden tube only merited a bland sort of interest.

"Does it have a name?" Dumbledore peered down at Harry seriously.

Harry shook his head. "Not yet, sir."

"Then please," he said, gesturing towards the class with an open hand. "Show us all what it does."

Harry sighed again. He flicked his thumb under the Hippogryff's head, which folded back to reveal a small white rectangle. With a second flick of his thumb, the white rectangle flipped out of the tube, and tumbled toward the ground in front of Harry. Midair, the rectangle ballooned to its' full, meter-and-a-half height. Suddenly revealed to be a tombstone, the granite block slammed into the floor with booming thud, pinning the toe of the enchanted trainers to the slightly splintered floor. The trainer squeaked a bit as it slowly wiggled its' way free from the rock. With a squawk it was free, and the trainer hopped quickly to it's wizard's side.

Crabbe's eyebrow dug in on itself. "I don't get it. Is it some kinda' art?"

Goyle slapped the back of his head. "Idiot! It's a headstone. Ain't you ever seen one?"

"Oh." Crabbe waggled his head in a bovine nod. "It's avant garde."

Goyle turned his thick, curly-haired head to stare at his constant companion. "Don't make me hex you."

Harry cleared his throat and interrupted the two Slytherins. "Uh, it is a tombstone. Only it's supposed to block spells."

He moved to return quickly and quietly to his seat, but Goyle stopped him, hand raised. "It's just a rock, innit? I mean, they're everywhere. So what?"

Harry looked back at Headmaster Dumbledore, who was gesturing for him to respond. Harry sighed again, and decided to launch into the explanation he was dreading. "When Voldemort," he began, and the whole class flinched and jumped. "Returned about a year and a half ago, I hid behind a gravestone. It stopped the Killing Curse a few times, so I figured I'd come up with a way of bringing a whole bunch of headstones wherever they were needed."

Harry flicked a second rectangle out of the tube, and a second tombstone tumbled to the ground. He did it again, and a third tombstone quickly lined up next to its' brethren. He looked up to see looks of horror and awe on nearly every face; Goyle looked abashed. Harry returned to his seat quietly, and listened with half an ear to the remaining students displaying their projects. He noticed the class was suddenly subdued.

"Potter." Goyle was leaning forward to whisper to Harry, barely moving his lips. "I just wanted you to know. My old man can't do the Avada Kedavra. Just so's you know." Then he leaned away, leaving Harry with his thoughts.

A few hours later, Harry had finished with another bout of Domestic Sorcery. They had been going over the theory and practice of Apparation, in preparation for their first trial jumps after winter holidays. Madam Hooch was as eagle eyed and sharp tongued as ever, reminding everyone that failure in this subject meant splinching Full of her acerbic comments on the class' readiness, Harry loitered in the Great Hall for Ron and Hermione to wend their way up from Snape's dungeon.

He didn't have long to wait; Harry could hear their discussion echoing up the corridor ahead of them. From the sound of things, Ron had lost some points for Gryffindor by saying something colourful while in Snape's earshot. Harry could tell, since Ron was explaining to Hermione quite loudly that he'd already gotten a lecture from Snape himself.

"But you're a Prefect, Ron," Hermione continued shrilly as they cleared the hallway. "You're expected to do better than slide by with lectures from your professors. You're expected to set an example."

Ron waved a hand in exasperation. "I don't see anyone expecting anything of the sort, Hermy."

"And what, exactly, about me?" Hermione managed to huff while marching at full tilt, arms crossed. "I certainly expect that of you."

"Good luck with that," Ron replied sarcastically. Ron stopped short in front of Harry. "Well, we've been having a great time without you in Potions. How goes with you, mate?"

"Okay." Harry didn't really want to launch into a discussion of his embarrassing Artifaction class. But that reminded him of something he wanted to get done quickly. He pulled Ron and Hermione aside by their sleeves, letting more of their Potions class flood past them into the dining hall. "Are you both staying here for holidays?"

Ron nodded. "'Course. Me and Ginny are both going to bum around the castle."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm going to be in Sussex visiting my cousins with my parents."

Harry looked past them, seeing Draco Malfoy hanging out by the entrance hall doors. He really didn't want the Slytherin to be privy to what he was going to say next, so he stared at the blond pointedly. "Run along, Malfoy."

For his part, Malfoy sneered and ran along.

With a last furtive glance around the barren hall, Harry turned back to his friends. He reached into his robes and pulled out two copies of the wooden tube he'd demonstrated in class earlier. Gesturing quickly, Harry explained their design and use to his two best friends. Hermione nodded appreciatively, but Ron gaped.

"Harry!" Ron blinked, staring down at the magical device in his hands. "How could you possibly make this? We haven't learned anything like this!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. "And this is why I was understandably upset at Harry's new schedule, Ron This is what he's been in learning in his classes."

Ron's mouth closed, and he regarded the tube somberly. He looked up at Harry, head cocked. "You're serious about all this, then?"

Harry nodded.

Ron held the device out to Harry, and shook his head once. "Well, this'll be the least of your needs, I guess."

Harry shook his head. "Uh-uh. I made those for you two."

"What?" Hermione rounded on him. "You can't possibly be serious!"

"Why not," he responded, genuinely puzzled.

"These could be really useful in the right hands. Yours, for example, or an Auror's." Hermione shook her device at Harry. "Ron and I certainly don't need anything like this."

Harry folded his arms stubbornly. "No, it's not like the two of you have ever done anything dangerous, have you? I mean, nothing like dueling with Death Eaters or anything, right?"

"Harry-" Ron searched for something to say.

"No." Harry shook his head. "You aren't talking me out of this, either of you. Please. I... I just can't see either of you get hurt, okay?"

"Idiot." Ron shoved Harry lightly, his voice oddly rusty. "Nothings happening to us."

Hermione cleared her throat, and looked down at the little device in the palm of her hand. Focusing entirely upon it, she asked, "So, do they have a name yet?"

"Not really." Harry prodded the one Hermione was holding out. "I was kind of focused on making them work, not calling them anything."

Ron held his up. "How about a Harry Headstone Flinger?"

Harry and Hermione wrinkled their brows as they looked at the object Ron was holding. Even Ron tipped his head sideways with a frown. "Naw, that's just terrible. Forget I said it."

Harry tried his hand at the process of naming the devices. "How about calling it a Thingamajig?" He looked at the other two hopefully.

Hermione shook her head silently. Ron patted him on the shoulder. "Hate to tell you mate, but 'Harry Headstone Flinger's better than that one."

Ron and Harry turned to Hermione expectantly. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, you two. Do you think I can come up with anything on the spot?"

Ron and Harry shared a look and a nod. "Pretty much." "Yeah, actually, we do."

She was caught between smiling and grimacing. "Oh fine, I'll try something. How about, oh, I don't know... How about 'Potter's Magic Pez'?"

Harry and Ron were silent. Hermione flushed, and looked downcast. "I knew I'd be rubbish at this. I'm very good with academics and books, but I'm not very creative, really. I was the girl who couldn't colour inside the lines in primary school, honestly."

Ron grinned. "Potter's magic Pez? That's brilliant!"

Harry looked at the Magic Pez Ron was holding up. "Wicked!"

Hermione's head snapped up. "Really? You liked it? I mean, I named them, really?"

Ron threw an arm over her shoulder, and steered her toward the Great Hall. Harry took her opposite shoulder, smiling. He spoke up. "Yes, it was absolutely brilliant, Hermione."

Ron leaned in slightly. "Although I might be revisiting this whole 'colouring inside the lines' thing later."

Hermione deflated slightly. "Figures."

* * *

The days leading up to winter holidays blurred past with in tones of holly and candy red. Seemingly overnight the castle was warmly decorated, with the traditional twelve floating Christmas trees in the Great Hall, and enchanted icicles on the banisters. Classes seemed accelerated, as increasingly distracted students lost focus earlier and earlier. Even Hermione proved vulnerable, as she lost interest in stopping the firsties from sliding down the halls between classes.

Harry had managed to sneak out to pick up Father Christmas gifts for everyone. Dobby was getting a pair of socks that slowly changed colour throughout the day. Ron, in a sight deviation from tradition, was not getting anything Chudley Cannon related. Harry had instead decided to pick up Roc-skin Quidditch gloves, which were tough, lightweight, and waterproof. He had picked out a bracelet for Hermione with her, Ron's and Harry's names etched into it. Harry figured there were a few more years to go, and if they kept getting her books her trunk would weigh too much to fit on the Hogwarts Express.

Ginny had proved a bit more trouble. Harry blanked utterly when it came to her gift. In the end, he had to resort to asking Ron's assistance. After all, Harry reasoned, he'd known Ginny literally all her life, and had several months more experience with having a girlfriend than Harry had. Ron had been horrified to be asked about what kind of gift to get his little sister, but in the end he recommended perfume. So Harry had a bottle of something that smelled like roses and was labeled in French wrapped up and tucked into his trunk.

Harry was very nearly whistling as he descended into the common room from his dormitory. For the first time in a year, things seemed to be going smoothly. He rounded the final corner to find Hermione sitting primly atop her packed trunk, her winter cloak on and a cable knit hat jauntily askew above her bushy hair. She had her arms crossed, and was looking away from Ron and Ginny, and out the window. Ron was busily trying to talk his way out of some sort of verbal gaffe, and Ginny was fighting a terrible case of the giggles.

Harry sighed, and rolled his eyes. He decided then and there to view his best friends' endless rows as the normal state of things, and ignore them. Harry walked up to his three favorite people, and pressed a festively wrapped box into Ron's hands. Hermione turned slightly to face Harry. "Come to see me off?"

"And deliver a present." Harry handed her a small parcel with a bow on it. "No peeking until Christmas, either."

"Er, yeah." Ron rubbed the back of his head, and handed his girlfriend the box Harry had brought down for him. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

She took the box from Ron, and looked up at him wryly. "You know I'm still mad at you, right?"

"Right." Ron shrugged. "Hard to forget."

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the cheek. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box which she pressed into his hands. "Happy Christmas, Ron."

Ron looked utterly bewildered. "Um, thanks."

Ginny leaned on Harry's arm, dissolving into titters. "Aren't they so romantic?"

Hermione and Ron pulled away from each other smartly. Hermione stood up, and levitated her trunk with a stiff wand-flick. Ron tugged at his robe self-consciously. Hermione cleared her throat, and adjusted her little hat. "Well," Hermione spoke a little too quickly. "I'd best be off if I'm to make it to the train."

And she set off, her patent leather Mary Jane's beating a sharp rhythm on the wooden floors. Ron leaped to, trying to figure out if he should walk beside her or merely follow along. Before they reached the second floor, Hermione had relented and taken Ron's arm for the rest of the way. Harry and Ginny sauntered along in their wake.

Ginny looked up idly as they walked. "Hermione got a present. I'm almost jealous."

Harry startled. "I'm sorry. I didn't give you yours since I was going to be seeing you Christmas morning. I could go back and get it now."

Ginny smiled. "I was teasing you."

"Oh." Harry shook his head. "I didn't realize."

"I noticed."

Harry thought for a few seconds. "I don't think I know very much about being a boyfriend."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, Merlin, is that an understatement!" Ginny saw the appalled look on Harry's face, and laughed harder. She grabbed his hand, and pulled him closer to her side as they walked. "It's not a bad thing. You're awfully cute when you try so hard to figure things out."

"Oh." Harry couldn't help but notice how awfully much of Ginny there was pressed up against his side. She seemed so soft and warm, it was almost intoxicating. It made him feel awkwardly self conscious, as with each step his bony shoulders would bump into her. He tried inching slightly away. "Well, at least we aren't arguing all the time."

"Yes, Harry. You aren't my brother, a fact I'm very definitely glad about." Ginny tossed her red hair back to flash him an unreadable smile.

"Funny you should mention that." Harry grinned uncertainly. "Ron was saying he considered me an honorary Weasley."

Ginny looked him up and down appraisingly. "Nah. Not yet, Potter."

With that cryptic comment, Ginny flounced up ahead t chat with Hermione as they left the castle. Harry and Ron fell in together, unable to talk much within earshot of their obviously mad girlfriends.

* * *

Christmas morning was bitterly cold, but Harry had no problem throwing back his coverlet and sitting up; Ron, Seamus, and Neville were staying in the tower with Harry his year. And once they'd dispensed with their presents, he'd have a chance to meet up with Ginny for the whole day. Shivering slightly, Harry pulled his curtain open, and light flooded his bed. He looked down at the foot of his bed, and found that it was completely bare of presents. He looked over, and saw Ron and Neville eating Chocolate Frogs one bed over.

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" Neville waved, and tossed him a frog. Harry opened the frog box, and found the chocolate frog oddly still. He got up to show Ron, but once he'd left the bed, the frog suddenly stirred to chocolaty life and leaped away, scurrying quickly across the room.

Ron chortled. "You seem to have a habit of letting 'em get away from you."

Harry shook his head, and put on his glasses. It was just too early to fumble with contacts. "Ron, the frog wasn't moving, though."

Ron pointed to the canopy of Harry's bed. "Mirror."

Harry turned about, and noticed for the first time his small stack of presents, sitting not on the foot of the bed, but atop his trunk nearby. He turned back to Ron and Neville. "Oh. It must work on Chocolate Frogs, too."

"And house elves." Ron pointed to his presents. "I don't think they wanted to try putting your things on your bed with that overhead."

Seamus looked up from a small sea of wrapping paper. "Why don't you just take the damned thing down, Harry? It's fecking creepy."

Harry turned, and opened the present from the Weasleys. It was, as usual, a jumper, and Harry pulled it on for warmth. "It's either the mirror or Snape, and frankly it's less creepy than he is."

"Not by much." Seamus padded over to Ron's bed. "So, Harry... Gryffindor tower's empty, it's Christmas... You itching to go downstairs and give Ron's sister her present?"

"Yeah," Harry answered cheerfully. "I've got her present right here."

Harry went back to his trunk, and withdrew the wrapped perfume bottle from under his school clothes. When he turned back around, Ron looked fit to burst, Neville was bright pink, and Seamus was hooting with laughter. Harry's brows collided in confusion. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Ron replied in a strangled tone.

"Nuthin' a'tall, Harry." Seamus got up and slapped him on the back. "Nuthin' a'tall."

Harry shrugged. This wasn't the first time Harry felt that having been raised by Muggles had left him out of the loop of some wizarding traditions. As was usual, Harry played it off and decided to go about his business. If it was important, someone would say something.

Harry threw on the remainder of his clothes, peripherally away the others were doing the same. This was Harry's first Christmas with a girlfriend, and he wanted to race down there to see what she thought of her present. Jumping down the stairs, Harry found Ginny sitting in the Common Room, bundled up in her Weasley jumper, feet tucked under an afghan, reading some slim book before the fire. She looked up as he entered, and the firelight glinted off her copper-red hair. She smiled widely. "Excited, are we?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to use real words. Instead he held out her present silently. Ginny reached under the divan and withdrew a much larger box. Somewhat awkwardly, they managed to exchange presents. There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other expectantly, each waiting to watch the other open their package. Finally Ginny smiled, and tore open her present, withdrawing the small crystal beaker and its' nearly colourless contents. She opened the silver chased stopper, and sniffed at the perfume inside.

"It's wonderful, Harry." Ginny smiled brightly. "Is that Lotus I smell in there?"

Harry dug at the carpet with a toe. "I don't know. Is Lotus, er, French?"

Ginny chucked. "Might be." She leaned over the divan's back to kiss Harry gently on the cheek. "Well, I open yours next."

Harry tore the wrapping paper to shreds, revealing a plain cardboard box. Opening it, he found a pair of clean, new trainers. He looked down at his own feet. The trainers he had received as a hand-me-down from the Dursley's were held together with tape, spells, and a certain amount of faith. "This is excellent! Thank you, Ginny."

"Yeah, well." Ginny pinked slightly. "If you keep running, you're going to need them."

Harry looked down at the shoes. "Then I'm going to need them.

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