Chapter One
You worry me
I can see you've lost your pride
And I can't let it happen to you
I can't let it happen to you
It was more than a few weeks after Percy's funeral that things began to return to normal. The owls stopped arriving at the trio's flat every hour asking if You-Know-Who was really gone for good, if there was anything anyone could do to thank Harry, if he thought about writing a book on the War. The answers, of course, were always the same: `Yes, he's quite dead.' `No, I'm perfectly fine, but thank you for the offer and the lovely basket of fruit'; and `No, I'd rather not relive any of that, but it's certainly an idea for someone else.' By the time summer had ended, and both Ron and Harry's Auror training at the Ministry resumed, the owls had slowed to as few as five times a day.
A large brown barn owl pecked impatiently at the window. Hermione glanced up from her medical text and rolled her eyes.
Usually.
She got to her feet and pushed open the window. The owl hopped in and held out its leg, waiting for her to untie the message. "Thank you," she told it, plucking a Knut from the money dish and dropping it into its sack. Satisfied, the owl hopped out of the window again and took off for the afternoon sky.
Checking the name on the letter-Harry, of course-Hermione tossed it onto the counter and had just taken a seat when she heard a familiar whoosh from the fireplace in the living room and her name being called.
Sighing heavily and placing her bookmark between the pages, she stood and was surprised at the sight of Harry' head in the fireplace. "Hey there," she greeted pleasantly, kneeling before the green flames.
"Hey," he offered a tired smile. "Are you busy?"
Hermione considered the chapter on common infection she'd been reading for fun and shrugged. "Not really, what's up?"
"Just thought I'd see what you were doing. I've got a few minutes before my next class."
"I'm just reading, thinking about getting some lunch. You've got mail, by the way."
"Anything that looks important?"
"Hardly. Have you seen Ron today?"
"No, but I will next class."
"Mrs. Weasley wants us to come for dinner next week-make sure you tell him to get back to her." Hermione suddenly felt a throbbing ache explode in her head. Uselessly clapping a hand to her forehead, she swore under her breath.
From the Ministry, Harry looked alarmed. "What's wrong?"
"Just a headache," she said rubbing at her temples. "My potion must be wearing off."
"How long have you had a headache?" Harry asked, his eyebrows knitting together.
"Just this morning, I guess."
"Are you all right?"
She waved a hand in his direction, "I'll be fine-oh, jeez-I've just got to whip up another potion."
Harry didn't look convinced. "Do you want me to come home?"
"Harry," Hermione, ignoring the throbbing behind her eyes, fastened him with a signature glare. "Don't be stupid. It's a headache, not a tumor."
"Just checking."
"Go to class, you prat, I'll be fine."
"Get some rest, you'll feel better."
"Go!"
He smiled, finally, "Yeah, okay. See you tonight."
"I might be cooking," she said suddenly, remembering the recipe Mrs. Weasley had given her.
Harry faked a grimace. "On second thought, I might have to stay late."
Hermione found herself laughing as he disappeared from the flames. Getting to her feet, however, the pain she'd been overlooking rushed back, nearly knocking her over.
With her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione mixed herself another maximum strength headache cure and downed it in minutes. Feeling no different after a few moments, she went back to her text and tried to concentrate on the words that were swimming before her eyes.
Downtown, in the Diagon Alley branch of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, the youngest redheaded Weasley sat behind the counter, alternating between Witch Weekly and watching as her twin brothers tested their newest creation-Fugdy Familiars: Turn yourself-or your friends- into your favorite familiar for the afternoon!-on their associate, Lee Jordan, and occasionally on each other.
"Gin, do you think it's normal for Lee to be that particular shade of…what would you call that, Fred?" George consulted his twin, scratching his chin.
"I'd consider that a violet…though right now he looks positively lilac."
"Lovely, really. Looks great with his eyes."
Lee Jordan, who was indeed a bright shade of lilac didn't look impressed. "I was anticipating something along the lines of fur and whiskers, George. It would've been easier to explain."
Fred shrugged, "Always room for improvement, that's what I always say, don't I Gin?"
Ginny didn't bother to look up from Witch Weekly. "Fred, you never say that."
"Well, today seems like a great time to start. I'd suggest it as our new company slogan, but I feel it sends the wrong message."
"I concur," agreed his twin, with a nod.
"I'm still purple," Lee reminded, sounding edgy.
"Lilac," the three Weasleys corrected, though Ginny half-heartedly.
"Merlin, it's dead today," Fred noticed, glancing around the near-empty store. "You'd think we'd be doing better for springtime."
"Well, it's early yet," George reminded as he and Lee returned to their corned beef sandwiches. "School isn't out and it's only Thursday. Wait for the weekend."
"It's supposed to be lovely this weekend," Ginny piped up, twirling a lock of her flaming hair around her finger.
"A good time to get a few things done," a voice from the doorway said, making the quartet turn in surprise. Draco Malfoy pointed upward, "Your sign needs painting, Weasley," he added in explanation.
Fred rolled his eyes, "Guess we'll let just anybody shop here."
"So much for those Dark Wizard wards on the door," George sighed. "Back to the drawing board, then."
"I'm not here to shop," Draco explained, sounding insulted, "I need to talk to your sister." His silver eyes fell upon Lee. "Jordan, you've got a bit of-"
"Lilac, I know."
"Well, that too-actually, I'd say it's more of an amethyst, really-but I was about to say a bit of sandwich on your chin. I assumed you knew about the…" he motioned uncomfortably to his own face.
"What do you want?" Ginny asked irritably crossing her arms over her chest.
"Just to talk to you," he repeated, sounding careless. With a look around the room, he emphasized, "In private."
"Get real," scoffed the twins in unison.
Ginny glanced sideways at her brothers, "Can you just give us a minute?"
"You're mad if you think we're leaving," Fred declared, his jaw set. George nodded in agreement.
She rolled her eyes, "Fine, fine." Sliding off of her stool, she grabbed her yellow sweater and tugged it over the shoulders of her matching yellow sundress. Ginny brushed past Draco and out the door without another word. He followed, suppressing a grin, a moment later.
"That was rather anti-climactic, don't you agree?" Lee asked, glancing from one twin to the next.
"I'll be honest, I didn't see this happening that way," George admitted, arms still crossed menacingly.
"One week off the Ministry's Most Wanted and Malfoy marches in like a sodding Maha-Raja-what's that about?" Fred sputtered angrily.
"No idea, but lovely use of alliteration," George added helpfully.
"Thank you."
Outside the shop, Ginny had stalked to the side of the building and spun on her heel, crossing her arms again. "What do you want?"
Draco's near grin had faded as he folded his arms lazily and leaned against the brick wall. "You never thanked me."
Ginny blinked. "Excuse me?"
"For saving your life, you never thanked me."
"You didn't save my life, Malfoy."
He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "Goyle would've killed you."
"Please," she heckled, "he could've barely handled a proper Leg-Locker hex, let alone an Unforgivable. Don't kid yourself, I wasn't in any danger."
Draco shrugged, "If that's what you want to believe."
"It's what the truth is. That's why I believe it."
"Fine."
They stared at one another for a long moment before Ginny blinked, "Is that all you wanted? A little undeserved gratitude?"
"And to tell you that I was offered a teaching job."
She nearly choked. "You? A teacher? Who on Earth would hire you?"
"Snape."
"Oh, should've figured," she scoffed. "You unscrupulous types tend to stick together."
"Reading our thesaurus, are we?" he chided, making her blood boil.
"I don't have time for this," she turned and began walking back to the store.
"You look nice today," Draco said suddenly, making her stop. "Yellow's a good color for you."
"Rot in Hell, Malfoy," she said without turning around.
As she turned the corner, he heard a bell jingle, signaling her entrance to the shop. He smiled, "Someday, I'm sure."
Ron Apparated into his flat to find his roommate and best friend on the couch with a cold rag pressed to her forehead. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, rather insensitively, shrugging out of his coat.
"Headache," Hermione said in a voice that clearly stated it was obvious. "Is Harry with you?"
Pop!
"He is now," Ron smiled at his other best friend and hung up both of their jackets.
"How're you feeling?" Harry asked, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the couch.
"Better, the reading was starting to make it a bit much."
He looked around the apartment. "So you decided not to cook, I see."
Hermione moved the icy compress away from her eyes and gave him a quizzical look. "I did?"
"You said earlier you were going to cook."
"When?"
"When I talked to you at lunch time."
She closed her eyes, "Lunch time…lunch time…oh…oh yes, I remember now."
Harry offered her a concerned look. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"
"I'm fine; it's just a little headache."
"If you're sure."
"I am," she insisted firmly, fastening him with a severe look. "I'm also hungry."
"Chinese?" Ron suggest from the kitchen where he was opening a bottle of beer.
"Sounds good," Harry got to his feet and went about placing an order, trying not to worry about the young woman who was clearly not as fine as she'd been promising.
A/N: Same disclaimers. Lyrics- The Walker Brothers
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