Unofficial Portkey Archive

With Malice Aforethought

S. P. Smith

The next day, Harry was late coming back to the Gryffindor common room. Partly, he was avoiding Ron, unsure how to broach the topic of kissing his little sister. Also, he'd been kissing the self same Weasley after dinner, between the greenhouses. Now she was off to serve a detention with Madam Hooch for an unspecified crime, and Harry was building up the intestinal fortitude to face Ron and Hermione.

Odd, he thought. These are my friends. They'll be happy to hear something good is happening to me for a change. Obviously, this is what Hermione was clearing her throat at me about. She saw this coming miles away. They'll congratulate me.

Then why are my hands sweaty?

Harry rubbed his palms on his school robe, and stepped up to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Giving her the password, Harry slipped into the common room. Ron and Hermione were side by side at one of the tables far from the fireplace, bent over a gas lamp, looking for all the world like they were reading from the same textbook. Harry knew that Ron would take forever reading, and Hermione was more likely to turn the pages faster than he could see. He bet there was very little schoolwork actually getting done.

Harry crossed to stand by the table. He cleared his throat.

Hermione and Ron looked up at him and smiled. Ron threw him a nod, and returned to looking down at the book. Hermione waved with the one hand he could see and did the same. Harry bobbed his head for a moment. "I-uh... Um, can I sit down?"

Both of his friends' heads snapped up at this, identical looks of suspicious concern on their very different faces. "Of course Harry," was Hermione's response.

Ron was a bit more direct. "'Can I sit down?' Sounds like you have something to say."

"Uh..." Harry grinned weakly. He hadn't anticipated having the two of them staring at him hawk-eyed like this.

"It's You-Know-Who, in'it?" Ron poked a finger at Harry's chest. "Were you talkin' to Professor Dumbledore?"

"Er..." Harry paled. No Ron, he thought madly. Just snogging your sister senseless. I think she brushes her teeth before meeting me, because she's always so minty tasting. Say Ron, what are you doing with that wand... "I, uh, Ron..."

Ron's brown eyes widened in shock. "It's my family, isn't it?"

Harry stammered. How had Ron guessed that he'd been kissing a member of the Weasley clan? Was it some kind of magic he'd never heard of?

"Are they safe?" Ron leaned in, panicky. "Did You-Know-Who...?"

The pieces fell into place for Harry. Ron wasn't thinking of kissing, he was worried about Voldemort. Harry shook his head. "No! No, every thing's fine with everyone. Really!"

"What's going on then?" Ron looked suspicious again. He eyed his friend up and down, and for a moment, Harry felt certain he'd shout 'Aha!' and latch onto an incriminating red hair on his robes. He laughed nervously.

Hermione tugged at Ron's sleeve, and spoke softly. "Stop it. You're making Harry nervous."

"That's ridiculous. I'm not making Harry nervous." Ron turned to look at his oldest friend again, and noticed how he was fidgeting in his seat and plucking imaginary dust from his robes. Ron's ginger brows met in a crease. "Why am I making Harry nervous?"

"Ron, stop it! You're acting like you caught him kissing your sister." Harry jumped a little at this, but Hermione turned to him next. "And Harry, just tell us whatever has you so nervous. It can't be that bad."

Harry's eyebrows went up at that. At that moment, yes, it did seem his news was just that bad. Might as well, he thought, I am supposed to be a Gryffindor. "So... Yesterday, Ginny kissed me."

Ron looked perplexed. Hermione's darkened expression could only be described as apprehensive. Ron spoke first. "Why'd she go and do something like that for?"

Harry gaped at him. "Thanks Ron. I feel good now."

Ron tried to walk back his statement, but Hermione silenced him with a squeeze on the forearm. "Harry," she began delicately. "Please tell me you were gentle?"

Harry turned his gaping expression onto his other friend. Fortunately, Ron joined him in goggling at Hermione. "Bloody hell, woman! You're not going to give him pointers on how to seduce my sister!"

Harry nodded in shocked agreement. He was awfully used to Hermione coaching him through pretty well everything, but this was one area he truly did not want her input on. Hermione rolled her eyes at the horror-struck expressions on the two friends' faces. "Honestly, you two. Could you extract your minds from the sewers, please? I was asking if Harry let her down gently. Did you?"

Harry shrugged, his face a mask of puzzlement. He had no idea what she was talking about at this point. Seeing his confusion, Hermione frowned. "You've no clue, do you?"

Harry shook his head, and Hermione dropped hers into her hands. She looked up, pained expression in place. "Harry, I know you think of Ginny like a sister. I do too. But I'm not sure she ever stopped crushing on you, and that's years of heartache. Please tell me you didn't give her some typical boy response like 'Ew' or something?"

Harry blinked his shocked, bottle-green eyes. "No, I didn't say 'Ew,' Hermione."

"Well?" Hermione gestured for him to continue, peering into his eyes thoughtfully. "What did you do?"

Harry's nose wrinkled of its own volition. "I sort of kissed her back."

"Oh." Hermione's gaze dropped to the table top, and she pinked ever so slightly. "W-well of course you did."

Harry blinked wide green eyes. "You thought I'd have said no."

"No, no not at all." Hermione looked flushed. "It just sort of caught me by surprise is all. Congratulations"

Harry was again confused. "Congratulations?"

"On dating Ginny, Harry." Hermione spoke as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. "Congratulations."

Hermione shot her elbow out abruptly, startling Ron from his slump next to her. "Congratulations," he managed half-heartedly.

Harry cocked an eyebrow at the redhead, who continued. "Well, I'm not really sure what to say, Harry. I mean, I can't very well get too excited about you kissing my baby sister. And if you even think of giving me a blow-by-blow accounting-"

"A world of no, Ron." Harry and Ron both shivered at this. Hermione, however, turned a penetrating gaze onto her boyfriend.

"Ronald." Her voice was dangerously frosty. "Does this mean you've been giving a 'blow-by-blow accounting' of your time with me? To amuse your friends?"

Ron gulped. Harry quietly excused himself from the table, afraid she'd turn on him next. The Boy Who Lived sidled away from the seating area, and slid along the wall towards the staircase to the boys' dormitories. He didn't want to make any sudden moves, but he definitely didn't want to be around for the rest of that conversation. Harry's shoulder slid into a firm, yielding obstacle.

Harry looked right, and saw a yellow and red Gryffindor tie. He followed it all the way up, until he found himself looking into Dean Thomas' dark eyes. Harry never realized before just how tall Dean was. Dean clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We need to talk."

Dean steered Harry away from Ron and Hermione's rapidly escalating argument and towards the sixth year dorm. Dean propelled Harry into the room ahead of him, then closed the door behind them. "So, Harry," he began somberly.

"Dean."

"So, Harry," he started anew. "Ginny broke up with me this morning."

"I- she- wha..." Several thought and phrases bunched up in Harry throat, choking him briefly. Ginny had first kissed him last night!

Dean shrugged, looking pained. "Yeah, figured you didn't know we were still going out. I mean, I don't think you'dve been telling your friends about last night if you'd known."

"Ah..." Harry went to take off his glasses, and whacked himself in the forehead before remembering he was wearing the contact lenses again. "No, not really..."

Dean sat on Harry's bed next to him, and sighed. "It's time for us to have The Talk, then I guess."

"The Talk?"

"The Ginny Weasley Talk." Dean nodded. "Michael Corner gave it to me when I started seeing her. Michael got the Talk from Josh Stebbins, when he found out Ginny'd been seeing both of them for a week. Stebbins got the original talk from Colin Creevy, who I understand has since sworn off dating. So now it's time for me to give the talk to you."

"Ah." Harry felt like he was facing a Hungarian Horntail. "That Talk."

"Hang on." Dean pulled out his wand, and Harry pulled back involuntarily. But Dean pointed it over at the door to the dorm, and tried to lock it. "Colloportus!"

Nothing happened. Dean tried twice again to seal the door, looking confused and frustrated. Harry tapped him on the shoulder and pointed up at the canopy to his bed. Dean looked up, and found Morgraine's Mirror looking down upon them both coldly. Dean jerked to his feet with a screech and tossed himself onto Ron's bed opposite Harry. He looked back at Harry is horror.

Harry looked resigned. "Voldemort. Don't ask."

Dean twitched when Harry used the Dark Lord's name. "Right. Don't ask. Eurgh!" Dean swiped his hands over his chest, as though ridding himself of spiderwebs.

Shrugging, Harry continued. "That feeling should go away in a few minutes."

"You been sleeping with that thing over your bed?" Dean pointed up at the mirror, still hanging over Harry's head. Harry nodded glumly. Dean pocketed his wand. "Merlin, man. You've got a cocked up year every year, huh?"

"Pretty much."

Dean shook his head. "Um, where was I?"

"Stebbins and Creevy."

"Right. So now it's my turn." Dean adjusted himself, pulling one foot up on Ron's bed. "There's no doubt Ginny Weasley is a law unto herself. And she is absolutely wild. Fiery, like.

"That goes right up 'til you start dating. Then she's all suddenly straightlaced, and you need to remember not to push anything, see? She's also got a bit of a temper, see?"

Harry nodded. Then he blinked, and shook his head. "Not really. Um, Ginny's fiery?"

Dean dropped his head into his hand. It occurred to Harry that people were doing that around him a lot of late. He muttered into his hand, "This would be a lot easier if you'd ever dated before."

"I've dated before!" Harry was offended. "I went out with Cho Chang."

Dean regarded him with a tipped head. "One date, and she was bursting into tears the whole time."

Now it was Harry's turn to drop his head into his hand. "Is there anyone who doesn't know that story?"

"Not that I know of." Dean got up to pace the room. "You're kind of larger than life, mate. I think everyone kind of likes the schadenfroid of watching you go down in flames on something easy and normal."

"Shoden-?" Harry shook his head. "Did you just say everyone liked watching me go down in flames?"

"We're getting off the subject." Dean leaned against the wall of the dorm, and pulled his robes back so he could put his hands in his pockets. "We're talking about Ginny. I don't know how to put this any other way. The lady likes to talk a good game. She's all wicked and whatnot. It's just an act, something to show off to her mates in the other half of the tower.

"Reality is, she trades us blokes in when things start to look serious. Kissing and hand-holdings' all the lady wants. And no mushy emotional stuff. You start talking about anything longer term that the next Hogsmead weekend, she starts shopping for a replacement."

Harry gave Dean a piercing look. "You sound like you're trying to warn me off..."

"Not warn you off," Dean responded gently. "Just warn you. You're new to this whole dating thing, and Ginerva Weasley doesn't exactly come in a beginner model."

Whatever Harry might have responded with was cut off as the door to the dorm banged open and a harried looking Ron darted inside. Dean pointed at the door. "Didn't I lock that?"

Harry shrugged. "The mirror."

Both Ron and Dean shivered. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before anyone felt like continuing. Harry spoke first. "How'd things go down there, Ron?"

Ron groaned and slumped against the door, running his hands through his shaggy mop of ginger hair. "Great stupid, ruddy, miserable disaster."

Harry shrugged. "So, same as usual?"

Ron shot him a trenchant look. "Oh, you're a regular ruddy comedian, you are."

Harry blinked. Usually Ron had a sense of humor about his regular fights with Hermione. Although he knew he'd regret it, he asked the question he knew he should. "You want to talk about it?"

Across the room, Dean winced and cast quickly about in the unlikely event that a rear exit to the boys dormitory had suddenly manifested. It hadn't. Ron sighed. "She's balmy, that one. I tried to tell her I didn't tell you anything, Harry. It didn't work. She just kept getting more and more unhinged."

"Er, that's awful." Harry was confused and sad. Usually she at least had an excuse to be mad at Ron, even if Harry thought that she ought to know him better by now. But her getting bent out of shape over nothing seemed unusual for her.

"Tell me about it." Ron tossed his hands in the air. "I explained to her that I only talked to Dean and Seamus about snogging her, and she never really spent any time with them anyway. But she wouldn't listen. She just pitched a complete fit."

"Ah." Harry bit his lip. This seemed more on par for his friends. He decided to keep all of his thoughts to himself, forever, even if dosed with Veritaserum.

Ron turned to the other occupant of the room. "Oh, and Dean. Apparently Hermione would like a word with you next."

* * *

The next morning found Harry sitting on a rock at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, papers and notes strewn about him, a handful of large stone slabs laid out before him. Two of the stones were cracked and leaking smoke into the cold fall air. Harry was so intent on his task, he didn't hear Ginny approach until she was at his side.

"What'cha working on?" She played with the cuff of his sleeve idly.

Harry's brow furrowed as he re-read his notes. "Artifaction."

Ginny looked over the stones spread out in front of him, and wrinkled her nose. "Are those tombstones?"

"Yep." Harry scratched out a line in the third part, and wrote it back in in the fifth. He thought maybe that would work better.

She tapped one of the smoking, cracked stones with the toe of her Mary Jane. "Professor Dumbledore has you enchanting tombstones?"

"Not exactly." Harry propped his notes up on the ground next to his textbook. When Ginny cleared her throat, he looked up to see her looking at him expectantly. He shrugged.

Ginny rolled her eyes, arms crossed under her chest. "You can answer things with more than one word, Harry. If it isn't for Professor Dumbledore, what is it?"

"It is for Dumbledore, actually." Harry set aside the books he wouldn't need, and pulled out a small, carved wooden tube. "I'm the one who picked out the tombstones, though."

"Morbid, and oddly unsurprising." Ginny settled in cross legged on the grass, and smoothed her grey school skirt over her knees. "Are you going to tell me what you're trying to do?"

Harry realized there was no way he would be able to concentrate on all seven of the spells he'd need to try again while Ginny was asking him questions. Sighing, Harry slumped back against the rock and started to explain, eyes fixed upon the grass. "When Voldemort killed Cedric, I hid behind a tombstone. They threw the Killing Curse at me a lot, but it bounced off the headstone. I figure if I can find a way for people to pull a couple of headstones out of their pockets, they'd be safe from the curse."

"Why headstones?" Ginny poked the one nearest to her. It was smooth granite, adorned with carved garlands and the words 'In Loving Memory.' No name or dates had been carved into it; it was unused. "Why not, I don't know, that rock you're leaning on?"

"I don't know if the Killing Curse was stopped because it was stone, or because it was a headstone." Harry shrugged, and pulled up some blades of grass and threw them. "I can't very well test it can I?"

Ginny ran a finger over the blank spaces on the stone's face. "And what if they have to be used in order to work?"

"Then we're rogered good." Harry grinned blackly, and looked up at her for the first time during their conversation. "I don't think I could go grave robbing, thank you very much."

"Hmm." Ginny looked down at the tombstone and shivered. She suddenly snatched her hand away from the cold granite. "Where did you get these?"

"Oddly enough, there's a wizard down in Hogsmeade who sells them for a living." Harry returned to shredding grass. "Can you imagine that job? 'Long day in the shop today, Voldemort killed a whole family.' 'Oh, I'm bored, there hasn't been a murder or Potions mishap in weeks!' Wonder how long you work there before you loose it."

"Harry." Ginny's frown was in her voice.

"His flat was above the shop even. Must be something, bringing people by for tea. 'Don't mind the clutter, just a couple of retirees and a Hufflepuff over there.'"

"Harry!" Ginny snapped.

"I suppose this is a good year for him, though." He ran fingers through his messy black hair. "Busy times. And I suppose even Death Eaters don't really go after grave diggers and morticians. I mean, who'd cart off their victims if they cursed them?"

Ginny reached out with her wand and poked Harry in the arm, hard. "Harry! What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing." He waved absently at the stone tablets lying on the grass. "I'm just out here with these headstones, trying to turn a class project into a weapon. Ron and Hermione aren't talking to each other, and it seems serious this time. And you were still seeing Dean when you kissed me the other night."

Ginny arched a red brow. "Is that what all this is about then?"

"Yes. No." Harry tossed a few more murdered blades of grass. "I don't know, really."

"Well, Dean Thomas should have known I wasn't seeing him anymore, since I refused to see him. And you should've come talk to me about it instead of moping. " Ginny rose to her feet gracefully, and brushed a few stray blades of grass from her skirt. "Now, come inside, kiss me properly, and we'll talk about the next Hogsmeade weekend."

Harry looked up, squinting. After a moment, he spoke. "You go on ahead. I'd like to finish up here."

Ginny clenched her teeth, and tossed her hair. "You'll catch your death of cold out here!"

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "Not unless it's Voldemort who sneezes on me."

Ginny cocked her head to one side. "Well, I'll be waiting up for a while, anyway. I'll see you tonight."

Harry mumbled something, staring at the stones. A wind picked up, stirring leaves about them. Harry blinked. There was something... poetic, almost about the dead leaves and the blank headstones. Which was odd, as he'd never been allowed to read poetry at the Dursley's, and he'd never seen any in the Hogwart's library. He looked up to say something, but Ginny was gone.

* * *

It was the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas holidays and the end of fall term. It was early morning, and Ron and Harry were getting ready to meet up with Ginny and Hermione in the Great Hall. There was a definite chill in the air that wasn't due to the first snowfall of the season. Ron and Hermione had gotten back to 'polite,' but no more. Harry wasn't entirely sure what was going on with Ginny. He wasn't entirely satisfied by her explanation of the 'Dean situation' and she was far more interested in kissing than talking. It wasn't just the kissing; Ginny was endlessly fascinated by hand-holding, hugging, and cuddling. It was so overwhelming and unfamiliar for Harry, he alternated between stunned delight and grudging acceptance. How were people supposed to touch this much, he wondered.

Harry borrowed a green jumper from Ron that looked a bit better than the worn hand-me downs from the Dursleys'. Ron pulled on Harry's jacket, which was Muggle-made rather than hand-knit, and therefore perhaps more appealing to Hermione. It was a guess, but he was trying.

Realizing they were running late, the two boys hustled down the stairs and out into the castle proper. "Mate," Ron said, smacking Harry on the arm. "If you promise to hit me if I start making Hermy mad, I promise I won't hit you if you kiss Ginny a little bit."

"A little bit?" Harry grinned. This was altogether too easy. "What if we start kissing a lot?"

"Harry!" Ron actually growled a little.

"I'm just saying Ron." Harry paused to observe his reflection in the shield of a suit of armor on the third floor, and tried again to get his hair to lay flat. "Your sister really likes kissing me, Ron."

"Shut up, Harry."

"I mean, I'll try to get her to only kiss me a little. For you, mate." Harry gave up on his hair, and they continued towards the stairs. "But she might not take no for an answer. And I don't want you getting mad at me on account of her, you know?"

Ron rolled his eyes skyward. "This is what I get for telling you I think of you like a brother. All my brothers are insufferable prats out to ruin my life. Figures."

Harry smiled. "Could be worse."

"How?"

Harry opened his mouth, then paused. "Can't think of anything. Maybe it can't be worse."

Ron groaned. He was interrupted by Hermione calling out their names loudly. Both Ron and Harry looked up to see Hermione flying up the staircase, Ginny in tow. Hermione was calling for them, so loudly she was drawing a crowd as she ran.

Harry looked over at Ron, eyes wide. "My mistake. It could be worse."

Hermione bolted past them, still yelling. "Ron! Harry! Quickly! Come on!"

Ron and Harry shrugged at each other, and took off at full speed after their girlfriends, only a few steps ahead of the crowd dogging the Gryffindor prefect's steps. They rounded a corner after them, trainers sliding on the slick stone of the corridor. Barreling around another corner, Harry and Ron slid short to a stop, finding Ginny and Hermione standing stock still in the middle of the hallway before a statue of Barnabas the Balmy.

Ginny turned to look at the two boys, obviously confused. Behind Harry, he could hear the crowd of students filling the hallway. But his attention was focused on Hermione, who was looking down toward the end of the corridor. Raising a hand, she pointed as the far door was blown off its' hinges. "Look out!" she screamed as a dragon hurtled down the corridor towards them.

Harry and Ron leaped forward. Harry grabbed Hermione and tossed the two of them through the open doorway on the left wall. Ron grabbed Ginny and pulled her behind the statue on opposite side of the corridor. With a tremendous rush, the dragon blew past them, the door slammed shut, and the lights went out, casting them into flickering candle light.

Harry looked up, taking in the unfamiliar room lit by hundreds of candles. He was still covering Hermione from the dragon, which was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, Hermione's hand slid up to grip Harry's chest, and squeezed firmly. Her face pressed into his middle, he just heard her mutter something vaguely.

"Um, Hermione?" Harry pushed himself up a little, trying to both get a look at his friend, and get a little farther away from her.

"Ron," Hermione muttered. He could see her, eyes closed as she held his chest with one hand while the other played with stomach.

"Um, Harry," was all he could manage.

Her hand tightened on his pectoral. "Harry?"

"Harry," he confirmed.

"Harry!" She shoved forcefully, and he fell away from her, tumbling to the floor. Pushing himself up on his hands, he noticed they'd been lying upon a fluffy, canopied bed. He crabbed around on the ground, and found a stone wall behind him, with no sign of the door they'd come through. Pushing to his feet, Harry slapped a hand against the wall. It was as solid and cold as it looked.

A string of words he was more familiar with from Ron spun Harry around. He found Hermione curled up on the bed, a pillow over her face as she yelled unique and creative combinations of nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs. After a while she ran down to silence.

Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her upright. "I know you're embarrassed, but we need to get out there to help, now!"

"We can't get out, Harry," she answered, still speaking into the pillow. "Not for hours."

Harry pulled the pillow away as he turned back to the wall, checking it again for a door. "We have to! There's a dragon out there!"

"Oh, think for a minute, Harry!" She sounded mortified. "There's no dragon out there."

"You don't know that." He drew his wand, and tried the spells to unlock doors or end spells. Nothing happened. "They're in trouble."

"That's for certain." Hermione dropped back into the bed. "But there's no dragon out there Harry. That was a Weasley Wizard Wheeze."

"And how would you know that?" At the pregnant pause from his friend, Harry turned around slowly.

A brilliantly scarlet Hermione stared back at him, looking rumpled and flustered. Harry thought for a moment more, and slumped against the wall. "You did this? You did this."

When she didn't speak, Harry looked around the room. It looked like what might have happened if Dumbledore had let Gilderoy Lockhart decorate the Gryffindor common room. Red velvet, gold curtains, lots of lace. Harry was torn between coziness and discomfort. He looked back at Hermione. "What did you do?"

In a small, squeaky voice, she answered. "Vengance."

"The hell?" Harry felt the ground tip sideways.

"Vengence." Her voice was stronger now. "Revenge. Payback. For your little practical joke, and for all those jokes of mine that failed."

"Huh." Harry looked around the room again. "Obscure revenge, this."

He was struck unawares by the pillow she hurled. "Obviously, Harry, this brilliant joke failed as dismally as all the others. Worse, actually. Oh, Ron will kill me."

"Why don't we go back to 'what did you do' and go from there." Harry got up, and moved to sit on the bed opposite her.

She sighed. "You followed along like you were supposed to, for starters. And with me yelling, I got the crowd I needed."

"An audience?" At Hermione's morose nod, Harry smiled. "So far it was working right."

"I stopped in front of the Room of Requirements, and made sure I was by the door, and Ginny was by the statue." Hermione recounted her plan staring determinedly into the coverlet.

"Go on." Harry thought about patting her knee, and decided not to.

She sighed again. "That's when I set off the fireworks with my wand, and waited for you two boys to leap into action."

"We did." Harry shrugged. "What went wrong?"

"You pushed me aside, and Ron pulled Ginny away." Hermione flopped over backwards, an arm over her eyes. "What were you two thinking, anyway? Honestly? Boys."

Harry was confused. "Well, Ron grabbed his sister. I grabbed my best friend. I guess we were both trying to save you two."

At her continued silence, Harry continued. "Okay, I give up. What were we supposed to do?"

"Oh, Harry, you really are hopeless." She lifted her arm, and peered at Harry from under it. "Well, you two know how to kill any remaining romantic illusions I might've had. You do realize that a girl would really like to think her boyfriend would jump in front of her to save her, not someone else. You do realize that you're supposed to try to save the person you love first, right?"

Harry blinked. "Thanks for the tip. I never really thought about it before."

"It's important to a girl to feel special." She sighed, and dropped her arm back over her eyes. They sat silently for a while.

"You do realize this is the first practical joke you've botched, Hermione?"

This brought her off her back in an instant. "What do you mean, first? What about the balloons, or that awful silence spell? They were dreadful!"

"They were brilliant. Everyone thinks so." Harry smiled. "They might not have gone the way you planned, but they were really funny. I loved it, really."

She smiled brightly, before suddenly frowning. "So this one is botched? It's worse than the others, you mean?"

"No, you just forgot the obvious." Harry got up and paced the room. "Ron and I really do care about both you and Ginny. There really wasn't anyone in the corridor either one of us wouldn't have jumped in front a dragon for."

Harry staggered back as Hermione jumped from the bed, and lunged into a rib creaking hug. "That's the sweetest thing you've ever said, Harry."

He hugged her back warmly. "It's just true, though."

She pulled back sharply, and regarded him from arms length seriously. "You know I'd jump in front of a dragon for you too, right?"

Harry unconsciously fingered the scar on his arm from the first Triwizard Task. "I don't recommend it, though. They're pointy."

Hermione smiled warmly, and pulled him into another hug, Harry continued. "So why will Ron be mad at you, exactly?"

Hermione pulled away abruptly. "Well, he's where I thought you'd be. He and Ginny should've been hit by the Sticking Solution that was sitting on the statue."

"Sticking Solution?" Harry wasn't sure if that was as bad as it sounded.

"Well, I know you well enough to know that the way Ginny is always hugging you makes you uncomfortable." Hermione dropped back onto the bed, and moved to smooth her rumpled clothes and flyaway hair. "I figured with a dragon bearing down, she'd be extra clingy. Having her stuck to you like that all day would be a good joke."

"You're right." Harry sat back on the bed. "Ron'll be ticked."

"Incandescent, most likely," she said nodding.

Harry looked back around the velvet and lace bedecked room. He poked the surface of the bed tentatively. "So, ah, I ended up where you wanted Ron to be?"

Hermione's hair whipped about her face as she spun to glare at him. "You know Ron and I have been fighting lately! I just asked the Room of Requirements for someplace Ron and I could be alone in for a few hours without interruption. I wanted to be able to talk to him. I have absolutely no idea why this is what the Room came up with. Obviously, the room has a sense of humor."

She looked at him, daring him to disagree. Her lips drew up tight. "Obviously," he answered.

Again there was a lengthy pause, and Harry decided to explore the room they were trapped in. There was water, and a fireplace, and very little else. "Several hours, you said?"

Hermione nodded tightly. Harry looked up at the ceiling. "I need a deck of Exploding Snap cards." Nothing happened.

Hermione snorted. "Remember, I wanted nothing to interfere with Ron and I having a good, long chat."

Harry looked back at her. "So no games, food, spiders, or shiny objects?"

She nodded seriously. He continued. "You either, so we can rule out books, books, Elfish rights, and books." They stared at each other for a count of three, then burst out laughing.

Harry dropped back onto the bed. "Sorry for spoiling your plans."

"I'll forgive you." She leaned up against the upholstered headboard. "And besides, it gives us a chance to talk."

"Anything in particular?"

"Well, everyone in earshot knows how things are going between Ron and I." She tipped her head sideways. "How are things with Ginny, Harry?"

"Fine." Harry looked over across the room. "There's a fire in the fireplace. I wonder where the chimney goes when the fireplace disappears?"

"Harry." Hermione delicately touched his arm to get his attention, then withdrew slightly. "I hope you don't think that's going to work on me."

He sighed, and turn his attention back to her. "Of course not. But you can't blame me for trying."

"Would you rather not talk about it?" Hermione sounded gentle, worried.

"No," was his answer. "I'd just rather not have anything to talk about, I guess."

Hermione nodded, and pulled her knees up. "So what's going on, then? Clearly not screaming rows; We'd have heard, and besides, that's Ron's thing."

Harry smiled. "No, we're not fighting or anything. Actually, we get on well, I think. I mean, I don't really have anything to compare it to, but it seems good. Lots of kissing and things."

Hermione pinked. "Well, that seems normal enough."

"Yeah." Harry peered at her with his intense green eyes. "Only, there isn't anything more, really."

"More?" Hermione went deeply pink, and her brows climbed her forehead. "You don't mean... more?"

"No!" Harry shook his head. "No, the opposite, really. I mean I like kissing Ginny, and I think I like Ginny, but I don't know why I don't feel more. About her."

"Oh." Hermione's response was quiet.

"You don't think there could be something wrong with me, do you?" Harry frowned. "I mean, maybe people who survive Avada Kedavra can't feel love, or something."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered.

"Or what if it's the Dursleys'?" Harry couldn't meet her eyes anymore. "They never loved me at all. Maybe I don't know how to anymore."

Hermione thought about reaching out to hug her friend, but stilled herself; it would just make him feel more self-conscious. Instead she moved to draw his gaze to her deep eyes before answering. "We're trapped in here because you were willing to jump in front of a dragon to save your friends. You were willing to face V-Voldemort when you thought he had Sirius. You've risked drowning to save all of us once, not to mention chasing down a basilisk to rescue Ginny. I'd say you know an awful lot about loving people, Harry."

His voice was tight. "Then what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing, Harry." Hermione squeezed his knee briefly before continuing. "Dating doesn't mean you have to be in some kind of deep relationship all at once. You're comfortable with each other, you like dating each other. Just give it some time. I'm sure something will develop there eventually."

"And if it doesn't?"

Hermione shrugged. "Then find someone else, who does make you happy. That's why they call it 'dating' and not 'marriage,' you know."

Harry leaned forward and hugged her, feeling better to know Hermione had an answer for him. "Thank you."

She rubbed his back, and whispered. "Don't mention it."

With a blast of cold blue light and a snapping noise, the wall to their right wavered and caved in. The doorway to the Room of Requirements now stood open. Dobby and Winky, clearly the instigators of the flash of light, stood at the door frame, brushing dust from their tiny hands. Hagrid's enormous shaggy bulk occupied the majority of the doorway. However Ron and Ginny, clearly locked together in an awkward embrace, were poking around his waist impatiently.

Harry and Hermione jumped apart guiltily. Harry waved meekly. Hermione flushed, and said 'hello' very softly. Hagrid cleared his throat loudly, sounding for all the world like a car starting. "Thought you two might need rescuing. Ah, this is a nice room, eh? Yup, nice room, with the candles and the fireplace, and the uh, other stuff. Yeah. Well, we'll just step out for a moment, and give you two a chance to get out of bed.

"I shouldn't have said that."

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