Author's Note: I have a feeling that, at the end of this chapter, all of you are going to hate me. My apologies for the horribly evil cliffhanger in advance.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
QUELLING THE STORM
The next morning, Harry felt a dull pain in his scar when he woke up and he squinted as dazzling sunlight hit his eyes. He put on his glasses and looked over at his watch on the nightstand. It was 6:34 a.m. He groaned slightly and rolled over. Everyone else in the dorm was still asleep. Both Ron and Neville snored loudly. He thought he could see Seamus drooling onto his pillow.
He yawned and sat up. It was the first day of classes. He could only imagine what his schedule would be like. He just hoped that he didn't have Potions first thing. That would completely destroy any idea of having a good first day back.
He crawled out of bed and rooted through his trunk for his school robes and a set of clothes. He left the dorm to shower and when he returned he got dressed. Before venturing down to the common room, he dug through his trunk one last time, finding the pager that Hermione had given him for his birthday. After the previous school year, he thought it was a good idea to keep a lie detector on his person. Hogwarts wasn't the safest place anymore, especially with a war on.
For extra measure, he grabbed the Marauder's Map and his invisibility cloak and stuffed them into his bag.
As he walked down the stairs and into the common room, he rubbed his scar absently as it prickled.
Not surprising, Hermione was sitting in the common room, reading one of her text books. She was blessedly alone, so Harry took the opportunity to kiss her on the top of her head from behind.
She gave a startled jump and whirled around. "Oh! Harry, it's just you."
"Yes. Why, does anyone else give you a kiss good morning?" he asked with a grin, sitting down next to her.
"Of course not. I just thought somebody was playing a joke," she said, closing her book and stared at him as he once again rubbed his scar. "What is it?"
"What?" he asked.
She grabbed his wrist and brought his hand away from his forehead. "You're rubbing your scar. Is it hurting?"
"A little," he admitted.
"What's he up to?"
"I-" He frowned. "He's irritated," he said, irritated with himself for knowing that.
"You're sure?"
"Yes." He sat back, exasperated. "I don't mean to be able to read his moods, or his thoughts, Hermione. I've been trying to perform Occlumency against him, but it's hard."
"I know," she said. "Just keep trying, that's all."
"I will," he muttered. "But I wonder what he's irritated about?"
"Don't," Hermione said gently. "Let it go. Your scar will stop hurting. Besides, whatever's irritating him is probably good for us."
"Probably," he agreed, then sighed. "Part of me wonders why I had to be the one Voldemort chose for that stupid prophecy."
She gazed at him for a moment. "I think it's because he fears you."
He turned his head sharply towards her. "Fears me?"
"Yes."
"He doesn't fear me. The only person he fears is Dumbledore!" Harry said, looking at her incredulously.
"Yes, but doesn't the prophecy say, 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches?' Isn't that what it said?" she asked.
"Yeah, that's what it says, but you're forgetting the fact that the prophecy didn't apply just to me. I'm not the only bloke here at Hogwarts whose parents thrice defied Voldemort and who was born at the end of July."
"I remember you telling me about Neville," she said.
"Then why do you believe that he fears me? Why did he choose me in the first place when he could have chose Neville?"
"Because you're a half-blood, like him," Hermione said.
He stared at her. "Dumbledore said the same thing to me, kind of. I don't understand why Voldemort would choose a half-blood over a pureblood."
"Because it makes you just like him, doesn't it? And if he, a half-blood, could become the supposed 'Greatest Wizard of All Time,' then what could you accomplish? Would you become greater than him?"
"But he had Neville, a pureblood, and he's all about being pure," Harry remarked.
"Yes, but since Voldemort isn't a pureblood, he saw no similarities between himself and Neville. You, however, he did. One Muggle parent, one pureblood parent."
"My mum was a witch, not a Muggle."
"But in Voldemort's eyes she was just the same. Though she was able to use magic, she still came from a Muggle family.
"Your parents must be another reason why you were chosen."
"What do you mean?"
"Perhaps your parents, who defied Voldemort thrice-"
"Like Frank and Alice Longbottom did."
"Yes, but perhaps all three times your parents defied Voldemort, it was much more serious than what Neville's parents did."
"From what I know about Neville's parents, they were just as brave as mine were. His parents were Aurors."
"That still doesn't mean that your parents didn't do something far more devastating to Voldemort's plans," she pointed out.
"Yeah, but…" he trailed off. Arguing with Hermione over something like that wasn't going to get him anywhere.
"But?"
"Nothing," he murmured. "It's a nice morning."
She turned around and looked out the window at the clear blue sky. "It is."
"I'm sorry."
She gave him a puzzled look. "For what?"
"For bringing him up."
She frowned at him. "Harry-"
"No, I don't want to talk about him anymore. I just want to pay attention to today," he said. "It's our first day of classes. You must be excited."
She let him change the subject. "Of course I am. When am I not?"
He chuckled. "Not in all the time I've known you. The first day of class is practically like Christmas for you."
She smiled at him. "With homework being my presents?"
He snorted. "If you could call them presents. I call them torture devices."
"This coming from the Head Boy," she said, scoffing at him. "He who I had to tutor because he wanted to earn higher marks to be eligible for the position that he now holds."
"I liked the challenge."
"As did I."
"Are you saying that helping me to become eligible for Head Boy was a challenge to you?" he asked with a laugh.
"Sure." Her grin was playful. "I got my chance to try to mold you into a more studious person."
"Mold me? What am I? Clay?"
She laughed. "I was thinking more like silly putty."
He gave her a mock hurt look before turning into a lopsided grin. "So I'm silly?"
"You're something, that's for sure," she said with another laugh.
Just then, they heard people on the steps from the girls' dormitory coming down. Harry scooted away from her just in time for three fifth years to emerge into the common room.
"What were we talking about again?" Harry asked.
"Before or after you called yourself clay?" she asked with a grin.
"Before."
"Classes."
"Right. Any preferences on what we have today?"
"Hmm…" She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'd love to have Arithmancy today. It is one of my favorite classes."
"Numbers," he muttered.
She shot him a look just as Neville came through the door from the boys' dormitory. He saw Harry and Hermione and sat down near them.
"Morning," he said with a yawn.
"Good morning, Neville. Sleep well?" Hermione asked.
"Alright. I kept having this weird dream…"
"Weird dream?" Harry asked.
He nodded and turned red. "I-er-it-er-"
"Ginny?" Hermione asked bluntly.
Neville went even redder. "Ron was it in too. He kept chasing me and yelling that if I even looked at her funny, he'd turn me into a toad like Trevor."
Harry stifled a laugh, while Hermione rolled her eyes. "Believe me, Ron wouldn't be able to turn you into a toad. He still needs a lot of work in the Human Transfiguration department."
"So do I," Neville murmured. "I sure do hope we don't have Transfiguration right off the bat."
"Oh, don't worry about it if we do, Neville," Hermione told him. "You'll be fine."
"What time is it anyway?" Neville asked.
Harry glanced down at his watch. "Just after seven-thirty."
"Oh. Good, we still have over an hour before we get our schedules," he said with a sigh of relief.
"Why so nervous this year?" Hermione asked.
"This is N.E.W.T. year. My parents did pretty well on their N.E.W.T.s, but I know I won't and that will make Gran very mad," Neville said morosely.
"Don't sell yourself short, Neville," Harry said. "You've done a lot of things that your gran would be proud of if she knew that you've actually done them."
"Well, maybe if I beat the Great Harry Potter in the Dueling contest and brought home the crown…I'm just joking," he said hastily, seeing the looks on Harry and Hermione's faces. "But that's what it would take, pretty much."
"I'm not that great," Harry said. "And for another thing, I'm not the dueling champion-Hermione is."
"It wasn't a fair duel," she muttered. "You were about to win."
"We held our rematch, I'm sure you remember, and you beat me, fair and square," he said. "Let's not go over this again."
She sighed. "You'll beat me this year, I'm sure."
"If I participate," Harry said.
Neville gasped. "Why wouldn't you?"
"Because I apparently have a so-called 'unfair advantage' that Ron likes to point out," Harry said.
"Well, you do, don't you? But why would that stop you?" Neville asked.
"He thinks it wouldn't be fair to other competitors," Hermione answered for him.
"I do not," Harry shot back, annoyed. "I'm not that good."
Hermione and Neville both scoffed at him just as Ginny emerged from the girls' dormitory. She walked over to them and planted a kiss on Neville's cheek, causing him to turn red.
"Good morning," she said happily.
"Good morning," Hermione greeted her. "Ready for your first day of N.E.W.T. level courses?"
Ginny groaned. "Oh, you just had to remind me of that, didn't you?"
"At least you're not actually taking them this year," Harry reminded her.
"True," Ginny agreed. "I guess that means I can tease you lot about them."
"Meanwhile, we'll tease you about the heavy workload that you're not accustomed to but we are," Harry shot back.
This time Neville groaned. "Please don't let us have Transfiguration today!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at all of them. "Personally, I'm looking forward to taking my N.E.W.T.s."
"That's not a big surprise," Ginny said. She glanced down at her watch. "Why don't we head down to the Great Hall? Breakfast will be served soon."
"Actually," Harry said, "I was hoping that we could wait for Ron."
Ginny scowled. "That git? He won't be in any better mood today than he has been all summer, Harry. You might as well forget it."
Before Harry could retort, the door to the boys' dormitory opened and Ron stepped out. He took one glance at the four of them, then walked out of the common room.
"You see?" Ginny said. "A git."
"Why is he so angry anyway?" Neville asked. "What's going on between him and Harry?"
Harry grimaced. He didn't want to lie to Neville, but it was the only way to keep his relationship with Hermione a secret. Luckily, Ginny stepped in.
"The Head Boy badge, of course," she said. "Certainly you know how competitive he is. Since Bill and Percy were Head Boy, he's just trying to be better than them. Impossible, though, considering what he got on his O.W.L.s. He's just jealous that Harry got the badge instead of him."
Neville looked rather disconcerted. He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "I think that Harry is more qualified to be Head Boy anyway. I think most people would agree with me, too."
Harry frowned. "Don't tell that to Ron."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't," Neville told him. "It's just how I think."
"Come on, let's follow the git down to the Great Hall," Ginny said. "You know, for his sake, I hope he has Transfiguration today!"
Neville groaned again as the four of them headed towards the portrait hole.
*****
Breakfast was eaten quickly while the group chatted about the upcoming day. To Harry's dismay, Ron did not join them; instead, he elected to eat with Seamus and Dean, who were sitting with Lavender and Parvati.
Hermione sighed and gave Harry a sad look, which he reciprocated.
Soon, Professor McGonagall was sweeping up and down the Gryffindor table handing out schedules. Ginny received hers first and sighed.
"Double Muggle Studies first thing. You'd think that since it's an elective they wouldn't have you spend so much time in there, like Care of Magical Creatures," she said.
"How much of a certain class you have depends on what field you're going into," Hermione told her.
"Well, I suppose becoming an Obliviator would require some knowledge about Muggles," Ginny said.
"You want to become an Obliviator?" Harry asked her.
She nodded. "It sounded like an interesting job when I read about it."
He turned to Neville. "You're going into Herbology, of course?"
"I'm not good at anything else," Neville murmured.
"Nonsense," Ginny replied as she got up. "I'd better run."
As she left, Professor McGonagall gave Harry, Hermione, and Neville their schedules for the year.
"Thank Merlin," muttered Neville after Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "No Transfiguration today."
"Herbology and then double Charms," Harry said, looking down at his schedule. Then he groaned. "And then double Potions after lunch."
"Well, at least we get to put off seeing Snape until this afternoon," Hermione said. "Come on, we had better get our things and head to the greenhouses."
*****
Things were very awkward during that first class of the day. Ron walked in about two minutes after Harry, Hermione, and Neville did. He looked around but saw that everyone had already paired themselves up-everyone save Harry, Hermione, and Neville. Grudgingly, he headed over to the three of them.
"I'll work with him today," Hermione whispered.
"If he'll let you," Harry muttered under his breath.
"Hi, Ron," Hermione said when he joined their group.
He said nothing; instead, he leaned back against the glass wall of the greenhouse.
Professor Sprout came in then, wearing her usual patched hat. "Good morning seventh years! Welcome back!" she said, beaming.
"Good morning Professor Sprout," they replied back in unison.
"It's your last year at Hogwarts, so that means that you're going to be working with the most dangerous and the most intriguing plants in the world, right here in these greenhouses," Professor Sprout said. "I hope you all brought your dragon hide gloves with you today, because we're going to be working with a highly poisonous plant!"
Everyone looked at each other warily and looked down at the big green and pink shrubs sitting on the floor before them.
"Can anyone tell me what this is?" Professor Sprout asked. Hermione, as expected, shot her hand into the air. "Miss Granger?"
"They're elapid oleanders," Hermione answered. "The flowers look like any ordinary oleander, but its distinctive thick round leaves give it away."
Harry eyed the green leaves, thinking them to look a smooth snake.
"Excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor," Professor Sprout said, causing Hermione to get looks of approval from her fellow housemates. "Indeed, this is the elapid oleander. Every single bit of it is poisonous. A tiny touch on the fingertip can cause a fever. Grabbing hold of one is fatal.
"As you can see, mine are getting rather big. What we are going to do today is prune them. The proper pruning shears are on the table over there. Partner up, grab some shears, pull on your dragon hide gloves, and start pruning."
As decided, Hermione walked over to Ron. Harry heard her request to work with him and saw Ron's noncommittal shrug. Shaking his head, Harry walked over to the table with Neville to pick up the pruning shears.
The work wasn't all that difficult, Harry decided when he was well into pruning his shrub with Neville. Neville, meanwhile, seemed to take great joy out of taking care of the plant. Harry could have sworn that he heard him whispering to it once or twice.
Professor Sprout halted them about five minutes before the bell would ring to single the end of class.
"Don't touch the outside of your gloves," she warned them. "They'll need to be washed thoroughly before the next class!"
Harry carefully pulled off his gloves and followed everyone out of the greenhouses when the bell rang. Instantly, Hermione appeared at his side.
"How did working with Ron go?" he asked her.
"Very quietly. He wouldn't say a word to me," she said sadly.
"That's no big surprise." He sighed. "I'll work with him in Charms."
"Okay," she murmured as they entered back into the castle.
Harry didn't have much luck with Ron either while Professor Flitwick had them doing review over some of the more complicated spells they had learned the previous year. Even when Harry had to rap Ron hard on the head with his wand to perform the Disillusionment Charm he didn't say anything, although Ron rapped him harder on the head when it was his turn.
All of Harry's problems with Ron, however, escaped his mind when he and Hermione arrived down in the gloomy dungeons for Potions.
When Snape opened the door, he barked out a quick, "Enter," and watched all of his students file into the room.
"Get out your cauldrons and equipment," Snape ordered as he marched up to the front of the classroom, his black cloak billowing around him. "I've spent my summer concocting a particularly nasty poison. You will spend this entire period making its antidote. At the end of class, I will pour the poison down one of your throats and we'll see if your antidote works. Do I make myself clear?"
The seventh years glanced around at each other with worried expressions on their faces. Even the Slytherins looked concerned.
Hermione raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Snape muttered.
"Sir, how will we know which antidote to make if we don't know what poison you've made?" she asked.
A vicious smile spread across his face. "You'll use these," he said, tapping the board with his wand, "to help you decipher which poison I've made." White chalky writing scrawled across the board at his tap, which said:
It takes two moons to finish this potion
Once administered a series of events are in motion
Starting with a numb feeling all over
(Perhaps this hints that your antidote will need clover)
Followed up with trouble breathing
You may think your life is leaving
But don't despair
The poison only impairs
It does not kill
It only makes you still.
Solve this riddle and you will find
Which antidote I have in mind
I'd start on it now if I were you
Certainly by now you've gotten a clue!
"One last thing," Snape said lazily. "You are not allowed to use your books until I see that you are preparing yourself to make the antidote, and, even then, you may only use the Antidote section of your text."
Harry felt himself blanch as he quickly reread what Snape had written on the board. Beside him, Hermione was whispering the riddle over to herself furiously, her brow crinkled in heavy thought as she bit her bottom lip.
It takes two moons to finish this potion. Well, okay, how many potions did Harry know of that took two months to make? He thought about it for a moment, trying to think of all the potions he knew, but his mind went blank.
Scowling at himself, he went on.
Once administered a series of events are in motion. That line was particularly useless.
Starting with a numb feeling all over. So the potion causes numbness.
Great deduction there, Harry, he thought to himself irritably.
(Perhaps this hints that your antidote will need clover). Ah, now that was getting somewhere. One of his ingredients was clover.
Followed up with trouble breathing. Perhaps the numbness affects the lungs?
You may think your life is leaving. One's breathing is impaired so much that one thinks that they will suffocate.
But don't despair. People shouldn't despair that they're not breathing?
The poison only impairs. Is that supposed to mean it won't cause death?
It does not kill. Guess not.
It only makes you go still. So a person can't move after taking the poison?
Beside him, Hermione's eyes had gone wide and she set to the task of setting up her equipment. Grabbing her book, she rifled through her bag and started to take out ingredients, including clover. Harry eyed her wistfully, wishing that he could read her mind.
He went back to the task at hand. So, he needed to think of a poison that doesn't kill but causes numbness to the point that a person can't move.
He frowned and out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione glance at him with a look of apprehension. She got out a notebook and started to jot down little notes before scribbling something in the corner of her page. When she was finished, she set the notebook off to the side, right in Harry's eyesight.
Paralyzed
There was his answer. The Paralysis Poison, a poison Snape had taught them the previous year. Once taken, it immediately caused the drinker to feel numb and then slowly stopped the brain from being able to control muscles, including the diaphragm, which helps the lungs.
Harry shuddered. Snape was going to pour that down somebody's throat.
He quickly set to work, clearing a spot for him to chop up some gurdy roots that he saw that Hermione was already chopping.
As he opened his book to the Antidotes section, he felt a pair of eyes on him and looked up to see Snape staring at him, a look of disgust on his face. Harry ignored him and found the antidote to the Paralysis Poison before getting to work.
He chopped up his gurdy roots and clover as the book told him to before dropping them into his cauldron and setting it on a low heat. A human hair, five milliliters of water, and two toad eyes that Harry had to squish with his knife were added into the cauldron next before the antidote called for a pounded up bezoar.
He didn't have a bezoar.
"Hermione," he whispered, "d'you have an extra bezoar I can use?"
"No," she whispered back. "I just used the only one I had. I'm sorry. They aren't usually used in actual antidotes for poisons because of their uncanny ability to take care of almost anything poisonous. I guess you'll have to ask Professor Snape for one."
"Wonderful," he muttered, setting down his knife.
He walked up to the front of the room where Snape was sitting, fingering through a large potions book. "Er-Professor Snape?"
Snape glanced up. "No, Potter, I will not tell you the answer to my riddle."
A couple of Slytherins snickered behind him.
"I already know the answer to your riddle," Harry said sharply. "I was wondering if I could get a bezoar."
"I highly doubt that you were able to answer the riddle all on your own," Snape said snidely, his eyes turning to Hermione, who looked away. "And you should have bezoars in your stocks seeing as this class will mainly deal with poisons this year, Mr. Potter, but I know that you lack the ability to think ahead, so naturally you don't have them."
Harry's face was turning red, yet he said nothing. The Slytherins were still snickering behind him.
"Very well, Potter, I'll give you a bezoar, but first, answer this question: what does a bezoar actually do?"
Again, Hermione had saved him. "It can save people from most poisons," he answered.
"Everyone here knows that, Potter. How does it save people from most poisons?" Snape asked, his eyes glinting maliciously.
Okay, maybe she hadn't saved him. He thought about it for a moment, but he knew nothing about what caused a bezoar to be so beneficial against poisons. "I don't know," he whispered.
Snape smirked. "Then I'm afraid I can't help you, Potter."
"But-"
"Go sit down, Potter. It looks like you won't finish whatever antidote you were creating," Snape said.
Harry turned furiously on his heel and marched back to his seat where he sat down and stared at his now bubbling cauldron, wanting to pick it up and launch it at Snape's head.
Next to him, Hermione had her finger on a page in her book and then went off to the student store cupboard behind them. Harry heard a small gasp come from her and when she returned, she set a small kidney-shaped stone down in front of him.
"Apparently somebody accidentally put this in the student cupboard instead of Snape's private stock," she whispered excitedly. "You've got your bezoar."
His smile was bright when he turned to her. He wanted to hug her but had to refrain. It could wait.
He set to work immediately on pounding up the bezoar. A triumphant feeling swept over him as he saw Snape watching him while he dropped it in.
"I hope you haven't tried to substitute the bezoar for something else, Potter," Snape said from his desk.
"No, sir," Harry said happily. "I guess I just misplaced the bezoar I already had."
Hermione almost laughed, but caught herself, causing Harry to grin at her.
Snape glowered from behind his desk and went back to reading his potions book.
Another half and hour passed before Snape stopped them. "By now, whatever antidote you've been making should be done because, while it may have taken me two months to make this poison, the antidote can be made in an hour. Now, let's see how you did."
He walked around the classroom, examining everyone's antidotes. Hermione's was a pale blue while Harry's was more of a sky blue. Snape glanced down at Harry's antidote and smirked. "Let's try yours, Potter."
Harry didn't twitch. He had expected this.
"First, someone tell me what poison I made," Snape said.
Hermione's hand shot into the hair beside Harry. He ignored her.
"Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure you can tell me," Snape said.
"The Paralysis Poison," Malfoy murmured nonchalantly.
Harry glanced over at Malfoy. Usually he was pretty enthusiastic about Potions because he loved how Snape favored him. But instead of the glee in Malfoy's eye that usually accompanied his chance to outdo the Gryffindors, he looked rather apathetic.
"Very good. Ten points to Slytherin," Snape said. He turned back to Harry. "And what antidote did you make?"
"The antidote to the Paralysis Poison," Harry replied.
"We shall see," Snape sneered. He took out a ladle and scooped some of Harry's antidote into a crystal phial. Then he pulled out another crystal phial from his robes. In it was a dark green liquid. He uncapped it and held it out to Harry. "Drink it."
Harry begrudgingly took the phial from his hand and, raising it to his lips, drank the contents in one gulp.
The reaction was almost instant. He couldn't feel his fingertips, even when he touched them to one another. Even worse, he couldn't feel his legs and wondered how it was that he was still standing.
Five seconds later, they went out, but Hermione caught him and helped him to the floor. It was then that he started having trouble breathing.
"Professor Snape! Give him the antidote!" Hermione shrieked.
Snape scowled. "Oh, very well," he said as Harry started gasping for air.
Hermione took the phial from the professor's outstretched hand and tipped the contents into Harry's open mouth. "Swallow it," she ordered.
He did and took as deep of a breath as he could, his lungs aching. Then, as though a light switch were being turned on, his nerves started working once again and he felt as though a million tiny needles were being poked into his skin everywhere. He gasped in shock and discomfort.
"Harry?"
"I think I'm going to be okay," he told Hermione.
She helped him back up, but he winced as he did so. "It feels like I have needles driving themselves into my body."
"Well, if you had made your antidote perfectly you wouldn't have had that affect," Snape remarked snidely from beside the two. "Everyone except Potter, fill a phial with your antidote, label it, and put it on my desk. Then clean up and leave. Class dismissed."
Harry took out his wand and pointed it at his cauldron. "Evanesco," he said while Hermione ladled up some of her antidote and put it in a phial. His sky blue concoction disappeared, allowing him to pack everything up and wait for Hermione to finish.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked him as they left the dungeons.
"Yeah. I don't even feel like I'm being poked anymore," he said. "Thanks for helping me."
"I knew he was going to poison you," she said bitterly.
"Yeah, so did I. I think Let's Poison Harry is his favorite game," he said with an equal amount of bitterness in his voice.
As they walked up the stairs leading into the entrance hair, Harry caught sight of Ron and Ginny, the first resolutely ignoring whatever it was the second one was trying to talk to him about.
Hermione sighed.
"What can we do about him, Hermione?" Harry asked her. "We've given him time, but it's not working. If anything, he seems to be getting angrier."
Hermione didn't say anything. Instead, she marched along ahead of him on a path to intercept Ron and Ginny. Harry quickened his steps to keep up with her.
"Could I speak to you?" Hermione asked Ron when she caught up to them.
Ron jumped at the sound of her voice. "Er-what about?" he asked in shock.
"I think you know," she said. She glanced at both Harry and Ginny. "And I'd like to speak to you alone."
Ron looked around and then shrugged, his indifferent composure coming back to him. "Fine," he said blandly. "Where?"
"Come with me," she said, leading Ron up the marble staircase, leaving Harry and Ginny at the bottom.
Ginny stared at him. "What was that all about?"
"I think she's about to knock some sense into him," Harry said evenly.
Ginny's eyes brightened. "Really? That ought to be entertaining."
"Not literally," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "Well, that takes all the fun out of it. But still, it sounds like something we wouldn't want to miss."
He eyed her. "Are you suggesting that we eavesdrop on them?"
She had that famous Weasley mischief in her eyes as she put her hand into her pocket and pulled out two Extendable Ears. "Maybe. Got your invisibility cloak?"
"Maybe."
She grinned as he pulled the Marauder's Map out of his bag. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Boy am I, he thought to himself, imaging the amount of trouble he would be in if Hermione found out about what he was about to do.
He looked down at the map and examined it. Finally, he found Ron and Hermione heading towards an empty classroom on the third floor. "This way," he told Ginny as he set off, taking the stairs two at a time.
When they reached the third floor, Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak and covered it over the two of them while they tiptoed over to the door that the Marauder's Map said Ron and Hermione were behind. Ginny handed him an Extendable Ear and, with many misgivings, soon he was listening to Ron and Hermione's conversation with Ginny beside him.
"Look Ron," Hermione was saying, "I know that you feel as though Harry betrayed you."
"He did betray me," Ron bit out. "He manipulated me into thinking something that's not true."
"Did he? Are you sure about that?" Hermione asked.
"Abso-bloody-lutely."
"Fine then. I've heard Harry's side of the story about your Easter holiday conversation. Tell me yours," she said reasonably.
There was a pause. "I had come up to Harry to talk to him about something. He had told me about the prophecy that day and it got me thinking that time is short, so I should quit screwing around and do something I've wanted to do. So I went to him for advice."
"Shall I assume that this 'something' was finally telling me that you fancy me?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Okay. Continue."
"Well, I told him that I wanted to tell a girl that I fancied her and he told me to go for it, but when I told him it was you, it's like he backtracked. He asked me if I really fancied you, as if he couldn't believe it. Or he didn't want to. He told me that we should think things through before I told you that I fancy you. And then he asked me questions."
"Questions?"
"Yeah, like 'Is there anyone else I may have feelings for?' or 'How do you really feel about Hermione?' and some other rot like that."
"And?"
"And what?"
"And how did you answer?"
"Well, I kind of told him that I was confused about another girl. I really didn't know how I felt about her."
"Who?"
"It doesn't matter," Ron spat. "It was just part of his web of manipulation."
"And how do you really feel about me?" she asked him. "What did you tell him?"
"I told him that I care about you, and I do!" he said heatedly. "I don't want anyone to hurt you."
"And you think that Harry would?" she asked him.
There was a long pause. "No."
"What else did he say to you?" Hermione asked.
"He said we bicker like siblings. He said that the way I feel about you has nothing to do with actually fancying you; that I've confused my brotherly feelings for you as something different."
"You think he's wrong," she said.
"I think he was lying so that he could have you without feeling guilty."
"Ron," she said gently, "think about that for a moment. Does that sound like something Harry would do?"
There was another long pause. "No."
"Harry loves you, Ron. You're like a brother to him. He would not sacrifice your friendship to meet his own selfish ends. Deep down, you know that."
Just then, Neville walked past them, completely unaware.
"Damn," Ginny whispered. "I've been waiting to talk to him." With a sigh, she pulled her Extendable Ear up and, when the coast was clear, ducked out from underneath Harry's invisibility cloak. "Let me know how it ends," she said as she slunk away.
He didn't say anything, because Ron was in the process of saying something to Hermione.
"But what about my feelings toward you?" he asked.
"I love Harry," Hermione told him, "and I have for a long time."
"Have you ever even given me a thought?" Ron asked her.
"Once or twice," she admitted, "when I found out about Cho."
"So then you do feel at least something for me," Ron said.
"Harry's right about us," she said doggedly. "We're like siblings. We quarrel like siblings."
"How sure are you about that?"
"Don't try to test me, Ron. I don't have feelings for you, I'm sorry."
"Prove it."
"And just how would you have me do that?"
There was yet another pause, but this time it was much shorter. "Kiss me."
An audible gasp came from Hermione. "You can't be serious."
"It would be a definitive test for the both of us," Ron said. "If neither of us feels anything, then we don't fancy each other and Harry was right all along, but if one of us does…or even both of us do…"
"Stop it," Hermione snapped. "You're being ridiculous."
"Am I? You're one-hundred percent certain that you only have feelings for Harry? That you only love Harry?"
"Yes."
"So then, if I were to kiss you, you'd obviously feel nothing, but it would still be a good test for me."
"I'm not going to kiss you, Ron."
"Why not? You want to end this spat the three of us are having, right? You want to prove me wrong and Harry right, don't you? It's just an innocent kiss. By denying it you seem like you have something to hide."
"I don't have anything to hide, Ron. I just don't want to…" she trailed off.
"Want to what?" he asked.
"Betray Harry," she said in such a whisper that Harry had to strain to hear her.
They were both silent for a long moment. "I wouldn't tell him, even if I did feel something for you," Ron said quietly.
"I-I-There must be another way!"
"Can you think of one?" he asked her.
This time there was an extremely long pause. Hermione must have been frantically thinking about another option. Finally, there was a long sigh. "No."
His heart clenching, Harry heard the footfalls of Hermione stepping closer to Ron.
"We do this quickly," she said, "and if I feel your tongue, I will hex you into next year."
"No tongue, I promise," Ron said.
There was a horrible silence then and Harry couldn't take it anymore. He yanked the Ear up and fled.