Unofficial Portkey Archive

With Malice Aforethought

S. P. Smith

Harry had waited for what he thought was fifteen minutes after he heard from Ginny last, then started off toward the Room of Requirements after her. He wasn't exactly sure how long he'd waited; his watch had died rather abruptly in the middle of his fourth year, and he still hadn't found the time to replace it.

Now Harry was headed down the corridor toward the statue of Barnabas the Balmy, still a little miffed about this whole date-thing. It was hardly midday yet, and already near to the whole school had been in a wand-fight with Ministry Aurors. Several people, Harry amongst them, had very nearly died. And this was the time she chose to set up a date? Harry thought of the horrible tea time he and Cho had shared at Madam Pudifoot's the previous year. Please, he thought to himself, please let her not expect us to sit at tiny tables with doilies and have tea and biscuits for lunch. He still hadn't told her how he felt about her, or rather, how he didn't feel. He just hoped he wouldn't have to do it over lace doilies. One more horrifying lace doily memory, and he'd be scarred for life. Harry shook his head, and kept on going. Reaching the statue, he paced back and forth three times, very quickly.

Looking to his left, he saw the doorway had indeed appeared in the wall. Harry straightened himself up, and walked in.

There were definitely no tea and biscuit lunches set up on lace doilies.

The door closed itself behind Harry's stunned form. And Harry was stunned; he wouldn't have been frozen any more solid if Hermione had hit him with a Full-Body Bind.

Harry couldn't tell just how big the Room had become, shrouded as it was in darkness and hanging gauzy fabric panels. Scattered throughout the room were candles floating midair just as they did over the tables in the Great Hall. The effect here was completely different, and it left Harry uncomfortable. Somewhere past the sheer drapes was a huge and roaring fire under a white marble mantle. Given that Hogwarts left electronic devices broken and useless, he wondered how it was that 'I've Found Someone' was playing softly in the background.

"Here, Harry." Ginny's voice floated to him from somewhere up ahead through the drapes.

It took a certain amount of willpower to make his legs carry him forward. He pushed aside a curtain, and passed a low table set with grapes, strawberries, and a turine of molten chocolate. He paused, backed up a step, and looked down. It was an odd lunch, and there were no chairs around, only scattered floor pillows. He thought for a moment, and his green eyes went wide.

Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this date Ginny had planned was the sort of thing he really ought to flee.

"Almost there," came the mischievous voice from ahead of him.

What does she mean, almost there, he thought. No, I'm actually farther from the door than before, and where are Hagrid and Dobby, come to break the door down, shouldn't they be rescuing me right about now, or maybe Voldemort could attack sometime convenient, and doesn't Dumbledore know just about everything going on around here, couldn't he come storming in and do something, anything really, I'm not picky, I wouldn't mind detention, or retrieving the Philosopher's Stone, or anything...

Harry's internal monologue wound down as he parted the last of the curtains. Actually, several of the parts of his mind involved in forming words dropped off the map.

"Do you like what you see, Harry?"

His eyes snapped up to her face as she spoke. He swallowed quickly, and decided to stare at the fascia of the fireplace. Just stare at the carving, Harry told himself, and everything will be okay. Just don't look at the girl on the bed, the one with all the freakishly tall older brothers. He cleared his throat. "Ginny! That's... ah... kind of different pyjamas for you!"

"It's not pyjamas," she answered with languid humour. "It's called a camisole."

"That's nice," Harry said quickly. He couldn't figure out why she wanted him to know what it was called. Did it matter? Would there be a test? "Um, I thought we were supposed to be going on a date?"

"We are." Ginny slipped off the bed, which must have been easy considering how slippery both her clothes and the sheets looked to be. Ginny sashayed over to Harry. "We just aren't going out on a date."

"Huh?" The brain-stopping attributes of her dress got noticeably worse as she drew closer.

"We're not going out, Harry." Ginny trailed a hand down his House tie. "We're staying in."

Harry jumped back a foot. "You know, Ginny, the... ah, Barry White? It's a nice touch, but..."

"But what?" Ginny smiled and nibbled her lip at the same time. She closed the distance again. "Would you prefer something... faster?"

Faster? A world of no, he thought. Everything's very obviously going too fast right now, thank you. What I do want is the ability to breathe back. I don't know where it went to, but poof! It's gone. Harry cleared his throat, and backed into one of the hanging drapes. "Um, Ginny, maybe I'm misreading this whole date thing?"

Ginny grabbed his tie and started undoing the knot at his throat. "I doubt it."

Harry grabbed convulsively at her hands as she moved from his tie to his shirt. "We really shouldn't be doing this."

"Why?" She swished from side to side, which did dangerously pleasant things to her not-pyjamas. "We're in love, I found out all the students are going to be outside for the day, so we're all alone in here, and with this morning... I don't think we should waste time hiding from how we really feel."

Ginny popped a button off his shirt, and then another. She smiled up at him from under her lashes. "Now then, Mister Potter... One of us is dressed inappropriately."

* * *

Harry looked quite the worse for wear as he slunk back into the common room. His robe was askew, his tie undone, and his shirt wouldn't hold together. Although few would have noticed, his hair was quite thoroughly mussed. He very nearly slammed the portrait behind him, thankful the other students were out on the greensward.

"Harry," came Hermione's voice from one of the divans. "What are you doing here? I thought everyone else was outside?"

His head snapped up at this, gaze locked to the top of the divan. He should have known Hermione wouldn't have gone outside with everyone else. And any second now, she'd sit upright and see him. There was nowhere for him to run to. Oh Merlin, he thought, I just want to get out of here.

Hermione sat upright, stretching her back as she pulled away from her books. Mid stretch, she caught sight of Harry and very obviously lost her train of thought. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing!" Harry struggled to pull his robe about himself with dignity. He failed.

"Oh, dear!" Hermione nearly vaulted the back of the divan, startling Harry with her haste. She skidded up to him, all long limbs and flushed worry. "Were you attacked? Are you alright?"

Harry went red, utterly unable to think of what to say. Then without warning, the look of worry in her eyes dropped away, and he found his friend peering closely at his lips. "Is that lipstick?"

Harry rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Er... maybe."

"Ah." Hermione stiffened slightly, and walked back to her books. "Well, that explains how you look, doesn't it?"

"I suppose." Harry edged toward the boys dormitories, eager to get away from anyone who wanted to talk to him.

"I guess then," she continued, looking slightly disappointed, "that you've decided you rather like things with Ginny the way they are."

Harry ran hand through his hair, heading for the stairs. "Not exactly," he mumbled.

She turned back to him sharply. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Can we not talk about this?" Harry started up the stairs. "I just want to figure out how to tell Ginny I don't want to date her, and forget today ever happened."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She stormed Harry's perch on the stairs, absolutely flushed. "I can't believe you said that!"

"Just let it go." Harry tried to slip away, only to be restrained by her hand on his arm. It wasn't the gentle touch he'd become accustomed to. This was the rather firm grip of the sort of woman who'd decked the Slytherin Prefect once.

"Harry James Potter!" Harry winced, and she continued. "If I hadn't just heard you say it, I would never have believed you'd do such a horrible thing. To sleep with Ginny and-"

"I...," Harry started out vehemently, but his voice failed him.

"You? You what?" Hermione looked stunned. "I can't believe you'd take advantage of someone, anyone like that, let alone Ron's sister!"

Harry was so flushed, it felt like his skin was burning and his eyes prickling. "I didn't take advantage of anyone!"

"No?" Hermione dragged him back from his attempt at fleeing again. "And what do you call sleeping with someone and then discarding them? I call it disgraceful, Harry. I've never been ashamed of you ever, until now!"

Harry glared at her so hard she flinched. It took a lot of effort to force the words out through the lump in his throat, but he would rather do that than have her ashamed of him. "I didn't sleep with Ginny."

Hermione tossed her hair. "I imagine very little sleeping went on!"

"I'm a virgin!" Harry couldn't believe he was sweating, just saying that. "Fine, are you happy? I just want to go upstairs now."

Harry pulled away and ran to the dorm he shared with the other sixth year Gryffindors. He sat on his bed, under the cold gaze of the Mirror, and willed the itchy prickling behind his eyelids to go away. Just at that moment, Harry felt unaccountably small. He sat there, until the door squeaked open.

"Harry?" It was Hermione, inside the boys dormitory. He was now absolutely convinced it was utterly unfair that the girls were able to enter this room.

"Harry," Hermione tried again. "Could you please tell me what happened?"

"I think I'd rather just sit here alone for a few days."

Hermione crossed the small dorm room and took a seat on the bed opposite him. "I'm sorry I said I was ashamed of you. It's just... Harry, you look like you've spent the day with Kublai Khan!"

Harry stared at her blankly. Hermione flushed a little now, too. "Kublai Khan? Xanadu? The poem by Coleridge?"

"Hermione, please..." Harry's voice broke. "I'm not..."

"Oh, bother!" Hermione looked around desperately, still pink. "I'm not saying this right. It's just, I misunderstood what you were saying. And you looked... wanton."

Harry looked up at this, and met her scandalized, wide brown eyes. He laughed, wiping his eyes a bit. "Wanton? Me? I couldn't even kiss Cho right, and now this..."

"I don't want to tell you what to do, Harry, but I think you should be talking to someone," Hermione began diplomatically. "And since it's either me or Ron, you might want to take your chances with me."

Harry sighed; it was utterly unfair that she should be right all the time. He kept his eyes on the nice, neutral territory of the window, an tried to conjure up an abbreviated version of the afternoon's events. "Ginny wanted a real date today. But when I showed up, it was more of... er, she had Barry White and a little nightgown-thing on."

Hermione blinked. "You mean, she was playing a Barry White song, and wearing a nightgown?"

Harry's confusion pulled his attention back from the window. "That's what I said!"

Hermione shook her head. "Yes, of course. Go on."

"Anyway," he said, fairly certain he was missing something. "She was, er... forward, I guess."

When it became apparent Harry wasn't continuing, she prodded him a bit. "Forward?"

"She tried taking my clothes off, and... you know," Harry muttered.

"Oh." Hermione's fading flush was back. "I'm sorry, but I'm still not sure why you were so embarrassed, though."

"Hermione, I may be your best friend, but I'm still one of the guys." Harry was a deep red as he spoke. "I'm not supposed to... you know. Say no."

"It's a good thing you're having a bad day, or I'd smack you," Hermione said plainly. Harry looked up at that.

Hermione continued. "That is a horrible gender stereotype, and as a man you should be offended by it."

"Talk to Seamus or Dean." Harry could only shrug helplessly. "I feel like I'm the last bumbling little innocent Gryffindor."

"I assure you," Hermione answered sharply. "You are not!"

Harry hung his head. "Thank you. I just feel thick for bollixing all this."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Harry, you don't love Ginny, do you?"

"No." Harry stared off a ways over her shoulder as he thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure I don't really like dating her, even."

She sighed, and moved over to sit beside him under the Mirror of Morgraine. Hermione pulled him into an awkward, sideways hug. "Then I think you did the right thing by breaking up with her."

Harry smacked his forehead with his palm. "I don't think I actually broke up with her."

"You didn't?" Her arms tightened ever so slightly.

He would have gestured, but his arms were pinned. "Well, she was sort of shimmying up against me and trying to pull my shirt off, Hermione. How exactly do you think I should have brought up my not wanting to date her?"

There was a strangled cry to Harry's left, and a disheveled Ginny appeared next to his bed from under Harry's invisibility cloak. There were tear tracks on her face as she threw the cloak at the foot of Harry's bed, and her breathing was ragged and uneven. "I think I get understand you two quite clearly!"

Ginny stormed off, clearly still crying.

Hermione jumped away from him as though burned. Harry blanched, and turned to look at her. "That went extraordinarily poorly."

Hermione put her fingertips to her mouth. "Oh no! I think Ginny got the wrong impression!"

Harry rubbed his face. "I think she knows perfectly well I don't want to be dating her."

"Oh Harry, think for a minute. Look at where we are." Hermione gestured around, and from the utterly blank look in his green eyes, she could tell he wasn't catching on. "In bed, Harry. Your bed, specifically."

"Wait, wait, wait! Now hang on a minute here!" Harry bolted to his feet, a panic rising in his chest. "We were not in bed! We were sitting on a bed! It's completely different."

"To you, perhaps," Hermione admitted. "I'm worried Ginny isn't seeing it that way."

Harry headed for the door to the dormitory. "I'll go talk to her."

She grabbed his arm, and planted her feet to drag him to a halt. "Are you quite mad? What do you think you're doing?"

"Going to talk to her." Harry looked at the girl dragging on him with all her might. "It's bad enough she hates me. She should know it's not your fault or anything."

Hermione made a high squeak of frustration. "Harry! Trust me on this; trying to talk to her right now will make things worse, not better. And defending me to her is definitely a bad idea."

Harry relented. "Alright. Then you should go talk to her."

Hermione winced eloquently. "Not right away, I don't think. Perhaps after she's a chance to cool down..."

"Okay," Harry responded haltingly. "But what do we do until then?"

Hermione tried to smile. "Hide?"

"Fine pair of Gryffindors we are," Harry mumbled.

* * *

That evening, Harry was loitering around the Great Hall. Between the legion of house elves and Professor Dumbledore's not inconsiderable magics, the room had been restored to its former glory before midday. It was a well polished testament to the ability of magic to repair all damages.

But Harry found himself toying with a cup of pumpkin juice, since he really wasn't welcome in the Gryffindor Common Room just then. Shortly after Ginny had fled the room, Ron had stormed the tower. Harry had been ready and willing to argue the point when Ron had been ranting about his best friend 'breaking his innocent baby sister's heart.' However, Ron made passing reference to Hermione being caught 'in flagrant delicious,' and suddenly she was off to the races. About the time Ron and Hermione were nose to nose arguing about trust, Harry slipped out. Ginny was nowhere to be seen in the Common Room, but his Housemates were quite willing to gawk and stare. It was less than minute before he bolted.

Harry rolled the cup around in his hands. It was a heavy pewter, and enchanted to stay comfortably cold. Harry became dimly aware of a number of people gathered around him, and he looked up.

Luna, Veruca, Seamus, Dean, Crabbe, and Goyle were all dropping into seats all around him. Harry fought to keep his jaw from clenching.

Goyle pointed a thick finger at Harry's chest. "Nice look. Redhead or brunette?"

Harry looked down, and realized he was still wearing the shirt Ginny had plucked the buttons from. He flushed and pulled his robe tighter around himself.

Luna swatted the towering Slytherin. Goyle pulled back, and peered suspiciously at Luna as though she might bite him. Luna just stared at him impassively. "You really shouldn't be impolite like that. I'm sure nothing happened between Harry and Hermione."

Harry shot the Ravenclaw a grateful look.

Seamus, however, slapped Harry solidly on the back. "No need to be modest, me yobo! Looks like the Gryff ladies like a hero, aye? But both in one day?"

Harry shot the stocky Irishman the same glare he'd turned on Hermione earlier, and it backed Seamus up the same way. "Ginny has every right to be mad at me. But leave Hermione out of this."

"Yer not kiddin, are ya?" Seamus looked surprised. "So you and Hermione aren't... ya' know?"

"No."

"Course not," came Crabbe's thick, plodding voice. "Nothing easy for those two."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You know I could hex the lot of you, don't you?"

Luna regarded him with wide, grey eyes. "But you won't, will you Harry?"

He sighed, and stared back into his cup of pumpkin juice. Seamus cleared his throat. Harry glared at him reflexively, but Seamus held up his hands to ward him off. "Whoa, wait a bit there! If there's nuthin' to you an' Hermione, ya might wanna talk to Ron."

"I don't think he wants to talk to me right now," Harry answered, grimacing.

"You might want to talk to him, though," Dean interrupted. "It's been a few hours, and he and Hermione are still going at it."

"Damn!" Harry pushed wearily up from the table and marched toward the stairs. This mess was his fault, and he wasn't about to let his best friends keep fighting over his mistakes.

Crabbe and Goyle rose from the bench opposite him. Crabbe grinned. "This'n'll be worth seeing."

Harry glared at the two thugs. "Wait here."

Crabbe and Goyle sat back down.

"You're glaring a lot today, Harry." Luna blinked slowly, watching him with detached calm. "Have you been practicing recently, or are you concerned you might forget how?"

Harry resisted the urge to glare at Luna, and instead marched out of the hall, and up the stairs toward Gryffindor tower. When he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she sighed. "Thank heavens you're here. Maybe you can quiet those two."

"Azhi Dahaka," Harry muttered, steaming slightly.

The portrait swung inward, and Harry stomped into the common room. Ron and Hermione were facing off a dozen paces apart, red in the face and yelling at one another. Somewhere along the way, each had decided to forgo waiting for a response from the other, and had instead set about trying to yell over their significant other. Unlike the usual Ron and Hermione row, no one remained in the common room to watch this one. Harry thought about how to get their attention for a few seconds, and discounted yelling. He'd never be heard.

Harry walked though the middle of the room, between the two snarling combatants. He could make out Hermione yelling about trust, and Ron was expounding at length on what Ginny had told him she'd seen. (To Harry's ears, it seemed she might have left out the Room of Requirements.) What he was suggesting about Harry made him mad, but it was the parts that involved Hermione in all this that made him want to hit the taller boy. Ignoring them both, he walked over to Hermione's stack of prodigious notes from earlier in the day, picked up the ones for Charms and Transfigurations, and headed for the boys dormitories.

Hermione fell silent at this, gasping, red faced, and near tears. Ron, however, turned on Harry instead. "And you! What are you doing here? All these years, acting like you were my friend, and really you've been sneaking around with her behind my back!"

It took a ridiculous amount of effort not to turn on Ron. Harry persisted, and with the most control he could muster, kept walking to his dorm room. Ron kept shouting after him until he got inside the dorm and shut the door. Shaking slightly, Harry sat down on his bed. The notes were just a ruse to draw Ron and Hermione; he let them flutter to the coverlet while he fought to get his temper under control.

Harry wasn't sure who he was more angry with; himself for mucking things up so badly that it was spilling over onto his friends, Ron for acting like such a prat to Hermione, or Ginny for using Ron's notoriously short fuse to get back at him. He sat and thought about that for a bit.

Just when Harry thought his plan wasn't going to work, Ron and Hermione slammed into the dorm room. Ron was very quickly towering over Harry as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Just what do you think you're playing at, ignoring me like that!"

Harry looked up at him coldly. "Were you saying anything worth listening to?"

Ron's fists bunched at his sides. "I ought to-"

"You ought to what, Ron? Hit me?" Harry snapped at him. "Fine, be mad at me. I broke up with Ginny about the worst way possible. Leave Hermione out of this."

"Why should I," Ron snarled back. "Ginny said-"

"Yes she said! And it's not like she's got a reason to want to hurt me right now or anything." Harry's voice dripped sarcasm before turning angry. "What about you? Don't you know me at all after six years? Don't you know Hermione better than that?"

"I thought I did!"

"Snap out of it!" Harry bolted to his feet. "You do know us better than that, you prat! Now, instead of throwing a fit over something you know is lie, try talking sometime."

Ron turned away from him, and crossed his arms petulantly. "I don't have anything to say to you."

"I don't imagine you do, Ron." Harry stomped to the door. "But you and Hermione have a lot to talk about. She's the one you were insulting out in the common room for everyone to hear."

Harry left, closed the door, and locked it with a gesture from his wand. Now that they'd stopped yelling, and Ron had decided he was mostly mad at Harry, maybe those two can talk this out rationally, he thought.

Walking down the curving stone stairs into the Gryffindor common room, Harry saw that the other students were filtering back in. Lavender peered around the room, looking into corners and behind curtains. "Are they done?"

"I think so." Harry sat on the foot of the stairs.

Dean frowned. "How'd you manage that?"

Harry looked at his hands as he spoke. "I locked them in a small room, and told them to talk it out."

Seamus laughed. "Hey everybody, Ron's growing up and getting-"

Harry glared at him from under half lidded eyes.

Seamus startled. "Uh, Ron's getting a good talking to. Yeah."

"Wait, you locked them in our dorm?" Neville looked pale. "I don't care if they've stopped yelling, I don't want to sneak in there tonight."

Harry drew his wand out, and tried something he'd seen Professor Dumbledore do before. With a spinning motion, almost as though he were stirring an imaginary cup, Harry conjured four squashy purple sleeping bags out of nothingness. He looked around. "I'm sorry, but I think we'll be sleeping on the sofas tonight."

Neville prodded one of the sleeping bags. "Harry, what spell did you use?"

"I don't know." Harry grabbed a bag and dragged it over to the farthest sofa. The other Gryffindors were making their ways to their dormitories, leaving the remaining sixth year boys down in the common room. Harry opened the bag, spread it out on the divan, and dropped heavily into it."Something I saw Dumbledore do once."

Neville dragged his bag over to the floor next to Harry. "What do you think they're doing up there?"

"Hopefully, talking." Harry tucked into the bag. "The lock'll hold Hermione for maybe two seconds. It's just so they can't run away too easily. They'll come down when they're done."

Neville rested his head in his hands. "Just so you know, everyone who knows you guys knows nothing happened."

Harry grunted.

Neville pushed on. "I am a little put out that you hurt Ginny's feelings like that though."

"Neville," Harry said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm trying to sleep."

Harry could hear the blush in his voice. "Right! Sorry, g'night."

Harry blew out his breath. "Goodnight."

But Harry lay there, staring at the ceiling of the tower common room as sleep eluded him. One by one, the breathing of his friends slowed down as they fell into a comfortable slumber. The torches in the common room flickered and died out, and the fire in the grate died back to a low burn all on their own. Harry had wondered how that happened, but he'd never been downstairs and awake to see it before.

The door to the boys dorm creaked open, and light footsteps pattered down the stairs. In the dim light from the dying fire, Harry caught sight of Hermione's silhouette crossing the common room, picking its way carefully over the teenagers strewn about in sleeping bags. She paused for a moment over Harry's place on the divan, and he feigned sleep. She quickly moved off, and crept up into the girls' dormitories.

Feeling more confident now that he knew his friends had stopped fighting, Harry snuggled down into his sleeping bag. It wasn't quite a squashy as the ones Dumbledore had conjured in Harry's third year, but it was still very nice.

He wasn't aware of exactly when he passed over into sleep, and dreams.

Harry found himself again in an echoing, circular room, the damp stone walls reflecting around him. The ground was concealed by luminescent fog swirling around his feet. Harry paced between the squat standing stones, reading from a letter held in unnaturally pale, long-fingered hands.

Harry read aloud, and he voice coming from his lipless mouth was the high, cold sigh of Lord Voldemort. "'The target of the attack was unfortunately missed, my Lord, and the mudblood still lives.' Even on paper, he sounds like your son."

From his post by the rough-hewn doorway, Lucius Malfoy answered. "Thank you, my Lord." Even months in Azkaban had done nothing to roughen his cultured voice, or bend his patrician posture.

"It wasn't a compliment, Lucius." Lord Voldemort swept along, still reading. "'I have the letter now, and once I've found the appropriate place to activate it, we shall be rid of all the mudboods here in Hogwarts.' I do like the way your son has taken to using the royal 'we.' He's so very generous to include me when he takes credit for this upcoming attack."

Lucius smiled tightly, and swallowed quickly. "I am quite sure, my Lord, that Draco only referred to his role as your instrument, nothing more. It is still difficult to transfer messages into and out of Hogwarts, and I'm positive it was only the forced paucity of words that drove him to be less than clear in his wording."

Voldemort turned to face the tall blond Death Eater, and Harry watched from behind his red eyes. "You grovel for your son almost as well as you grovel for yourself."

Lucius bowed his head, stiffly awaiting his master's judgment. It never came.

"You may go Lucius," Voldemort said dismissively. "I shall await my revenge alone."

As Voldemort seated himself upon the nearest rock, the round stone room dimmed in Harry's vision. Quickly Harry found himself retreating from the crystal clarity of the vision, and instead wrapped in the comforting embrace of dreams.

* * *

It was such a relief to be out from under the Mirror of Morgraine that Harry overslept the next morning. It had become usual for him to awaken before any of the other Gryffindors and be out running the grounds before the sun gilded the frosted roofs of the castle. That morning he barely forced his eyes open as his house mates queued up to leave the common room for breakfast. He pushed himself upright, and took stock of the horrible state of his clothes. Wrinkling his nose, Harry raced up the stairs into the dormitory for a quick shower and change.

Fifteen minutes later Harry wound his way downstairs to the Great Hall. He found Ron and Hermione sitting across from each other, talking pleasantly. Harry paused, trying to decide if it was safe to sit near either of them. Hermione noticed him standing hesitantly by the door, and waved him over with a genuine smile. Ron managed a weak grin, and so Harry dropped onto the bench by Ron.

"So you two have stopped fighting?" Harry looked back and forth between his two best friends. They flushed, but nodded. He looked over at Ron nervously. "Are we okay?"

"I'm not sure if I should be more mad at you for hurting Ginny," Ron said with a frown, "or with Ginny for tryin' to disgrace the family name. But we're okay."

"Okay," Harry said with a tentative smile.

Ron passed him the hash and kippers, and elbowed him playfully. Harry accepted the jostle with a much more solid smile. Maybe things really were okay between Ron and him.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Ron and I were trying to figure out what we expect the Ministry to do next, after the debacle yesterday."

"Debacle?" Harry looked at her askance, and she nodded. He snorted. "I'm going to have to look that word up."

Ron chimed in. "Hermione here says that in the dictionary, it's got a picture of Percy next to 'debacle.' Reckon it must mean either 'a right mess,' or 'stupid prat.'"

Harry laughed. He looked back and forth between the other two. "I'm really glad things are back to the way they used to be."

Hermione looked down at her plate, but Ron snorted at this. "You're right about that mate."

Harry set his fork down, and gave his friends a sharp look. "Okay, something is going on, and I'm not getting it."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, you see Harry-"

Ginny thumped down onto the bench next to Hermione and glared across the table at Harry. "Good job locking them in a room together, jackass. If you can't be happy with a girlfriend, I guess no one can be, hmm?"

Harry was caught between irritation and confusion. "What?"

Ron waggled a finger at his younger sister in a shockingly good imitation of his mother. "Ginerva Weasley! You've said enough this week, I don't want to hear another word!"

His remonstrances were to no avail. Ginny glared briefly at her brother before returning her attention to Harry. "Thanks to your behavior yesterday, you've broken them up. Happy now?"

Ginny pushed back from the table and flounced off to her first class of the day. Their end of the table was quiet in her passing. Hermione kept her eyes on her plate, and Ron looked around nervously. Harry was still staring at the spot his ex-girlfriend had occupied moments before.

Eventually, Harry cleared his throat and spoke without looking around. "I am so sorry."

Ron smacked him in the arm, hard. "Don't you dare! Anyone wants the blame for us, I say it's my crazy little sis."

Hermione tutted. "Ron, last night wasn't her fault either. We were the ones who were dating, we were the ones who didn't make a good go of it."

Ron shrugged. "Personally, no. I blame it squarely on Ginny."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and caught Harry's eyes with a smile. Harry looked away quickly. He wasn't really sure what to make of his friends' breakup, or their insistence that he wasn't to blame. All he was certain of was that his appetite had deserted him completely. He pushed his plate away with a frown.

Lavender and Parvati arrived, and descend upon Ron. Harry found himself being pushed aside as Lavender worked her way onto the bench between him and Ron. Parvati patted Ron's far hand. "We couldn't help but hear that argument last night. You poor dear, I know it must have been painful for you."

Lavender nodded, smiling sympathetically. "Even if you are keeping up a very brave Gryffindor façade. And who could you possibly talk to about it? Harry?"

Ron looked back and forth between the two girls. "I guess not."

Lavender clucked appreciatively.

Harry looked over at Hermione, who looked a little disgusted. "What about me? Aren't I in the same boat?"

"Sure," Parvati said flatly. "We'll talk tonight."

Lavender gave Ron a seemingly friendly hug. "Do you think you'll be able to go to classes today, or should you take some time off?"

"Uh..." Ron looked pleasantly speechless.

Harry leaned across the table toward Hermione. "You can always talk to me, you know."

Harry had to jump back suddenly as Luna dropped onto the bench next to Hermione, the Quibbler she was reading from nearly clipped him as she sat down. She looked up from her paper to stare at Lavender with wide grey eyes. "I've never seen anyone flirt with a boy just because they were a star Quidditch player. Can I watch?"

"Uh," Lavender said, looking confused. "No."

"Oh, well then," Luna said, holding the folded newspaper up to her face. "I should avert my eyes. Please continue."

"Er," was all Parvati could muster. It was too much for Ron, who snorted with laughter. Lavender sniffed, and pulled Parvati to her feet. The two girls left together rapidly.

Luna peered over her newspaper. "That was very fast, even for them. I would have thought they'd have to try harder than that to get a date."

"They'd have to try a lot harder," Ron said, still laughing.

"Yes," Luna said dreamily. "I imagine that dating requires a lot of effort."

She reached over and stole Ron plate of food, and started picking at it. Hermione sighed and excused herself from the table. Harry pulled a couple of rolls from the salver in the middle of the table and dashed after her. Ron waved a distracted goodbye to them as he tried to recapture his breakfast from the odd Ravenclaw at his table.

Harry caught up to her on her way to Transfigurations. He offered her one of the rolls, which she took but didn't eat. He looked over at her sideways. "Sure you're not upset about breaking it off with Ron?"

"Not really, no." Hermione looked at him sideways.

"But?" Harry chewed his roll, and waited.

Hermione shredded little chunks from her roll and nibbled them. "But Ron's got all sorts of girls dangling off of him, and it hasn't even been twelve hours yet. And not just my giggling room mates! I could be wrong, but I think Luna was flirting with him!"

"You're not wrong." Harry shrugged. "So you're not happy he's jumped back into dating so fast?"

"Can you really jump back into dating when you hadn't been out with a girl before?" Hermione smiled a little as she asked this. The plucked at her roll before answering Harry's question. "No, I'm actually relieved he's so happy like that. I was afraid he'd be sullen and resentful for a whole year, or some such nonsense."

Harry gestured for her to continue.

She sighed. "It's just... this is absolutely shallow of me, but I keep wondering why there aren't any boys running over to talk to me, like the girls are flocking to Ron."

"I honestly don't know. Maybe all the boys here aren't terribly bright."

"I'm serious Harry!" Hermione tucked the roll into her robes, as she wasn't very hungry.

"Me too!" Harry nodded, polishing off his roll. "I think anyone who doesn't want to date the prettiest, most clever witch at Hogwarts has to be kind of dim."

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