Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

Authors Note: Back with another chapter. Sorry for the wait - again. Not really much to say, except, I'd like to know what you all think of the Ron/Luna interaction so far. I'm trying really hard with it. As you can probably tell from the last section of this chapter, I'm completely in love with Luna. Seriously, if I could, I'd marry that girl. Lol. Anyway, hope you all like.

Harry looked down at the motionless body of the Gryffindor student. He was pale and his lips had turned blue. He didn't even have a mark on him, but Harry knew what had killed him - the Killing Curse. He looked up at the Dark Mark etched into the ceiling of the Entrance Hall. His first thought was that somehow Voldemort had gained entrance to Hogwarts again, but he quickly discarded that idea. If that had happened, they would all be dead. No, this was something else.

'Is he?' Ron's voice brought Harry out of his thoughts.

What do you think? Harry thought, but he kept his sarcasm to himself. It wasn't the time to be snippy. He needed to take command of the situation before it got out of hand.

'Listen to me, Ron,' Harry said, making eye contact with the Gryffindor. Ron continued to stare at the dead body. 'Listen!'

Ron's eyes snapped to his.

'We can't let anyone else see this,' Harry said, gesturing to the body. 'Not now. Not after the train. I need your help. Will you help me, Ron?'

Ron stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. He visibly swallowed and then nodded.

'I need you to go to get Dumbledore,' Harry said. 'Do you know where his office is?'

'Yeah,' Ron croaked.

'His password will be pear drops. Tell him to come down here right now. Tell him I sent you and it's important - very important. Okay?'

'Yeah,' Ron repeated, nodding.

'Go on then!' Harry pointed for emphasis. Ron dashed off with only a quick look at the body. Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, thankful that he carried it with him at all times. He spread it over the body, just in case someone else happened to pass through at this early hour. He glanced at the Dark Mark, raised his wand, and cast the best concealment charm he knew. It wasn't very effective, but it would suffice. Then he waited.

Harry was sitting opposite Dumbledore, the expanse of the Headmaster's desk separating them. Ron sat in another chair beside them. They awaited the arrival of the Minister for Magic.

When Ron had returned with Dumbledore, Harry removed his Invisibility Cloak and showed him the dead body. Dumbledore looked at the boy, stricken. Harry pointed up, cancelling his charm by drawing attention to the Dark Mark. Dumbledore said not a word, but cast his own concealment charm, effectively erasing the mark. Then he raised his wand and levitated the body into the air.

'The Cloak, Harry.'

That was all he said. Harry draped the Cloak over the floating body. Then they followed Dumbledore as he led them towards the Hospital Wing. Luckily, it was empty at the moment. Madam Pomfrey exclaimed with anguish over the body. They floated him down onto one of the hospital beds. Madam Pomfrey drew the curtains around the bed, hiding it from view. Dumbledore cautioned the healer to say not a word about the boy. Madam Pomfrey assured him she would not and they left the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore took them to his office and quickly called the Minister via his fireplace. Harry once again found himself waiting.

'How could this happen?' That was Ron. Nobody answered him.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore. The old wizard stared at his desk, seemingly not even seeing the thing he stared at so intently. He was lost in his thoughts. Harry didn't like the look on his face.

The fireplace burst to life and the Minister for Magic appeared. Rufus Scrimgeour brushed soot and ash from his shoulders as he stepped into the office. Dumbledore finally came out of his stupor and rose to greet him. Scrimgeour's eyes found Harry and narrowed.

'What has he done?' The blunt assumption angered Harry to the core, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. It was a struggle not to raise his wand and blast the idiot on the spot.

'Now, now, Rufus,' Dumbledore said, his merry voice replaced by one of concern, 'do not allow yourself to jump to conclusions.'

'Dumbledore,' Rufus said, meeting the old man's eyes, 'you call me unexpectedly at this early hour and I arrive to find this boy sitting apprehensively in your office. What else am I to think?'

'Harry has done nothing except save us from a lot of bedlam,' Dumbledore said. 'I think you should sit down, Rufus, this will be hard to hear.' Dumbledore conjured a chair next to Ron. Scrimgeour sat down.

Dumbledore began the story, going over everything that had happened during the morning, with only small interruptions from Harry and Ron to explain their part. Finished, Dumbledore sat back and looked at Scrimgeour over his folded hands.

The Minister for Magic rubbed at the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. Nobody spoke as he got slowly to his feet and wandered over to the fireplace. When Scrimgeour turned around, he pointed a sharp finger at Harry accusingly.

'So you just happened to be wandering around Hogwarts at six o'clock in the morning and just happened to stumble upon the student, is that what you're saying?'

Harry narrowed his eyes furiously. 'Yeah, that's right,' he said firmly.

'I don't believe it,' Rufus said gruffly, 'I think you're just trying to cover your tracks.'

'You do, do you?' Harry said.

'You may fool Dumbledore, but you don't fool me boy,' Scrimgeour said. 'Why don't you just admit it? You did this, didn't you?'

Harry got to his feet abruptly, knocking his chair over backwards, glaring forcefully at Scrimgeour. Harry's hands formed balled fists at his sides. Dumbledore rose as well.

'Enough!' Dumbledore never shouted, and so when he did, both wizards almost jumped out of their skins. 'Sit down Harry. Rufus, please, refrain from accusing Harry while in my office. I trust him and that should be enough for you.'

'Well, it…'

'Sir?' Ron spoke up suddenly, getting everyone's attention. He cleared his throat nervously and went on. 'Sir, I don't think it was Potter. I found the body first and it was me that drew his attention.'

'Because he was close by, having just done the evil deed,' Scrimgeour opined.

'No, I don't think so sir,' Ron countered. 'I saw his face when he noticed the body. Not even Potter's that good of an actor. Besides, the body was cold. It'd been there for a while, I think. Maybe all night.'

Scrimgeour had no clever reply to that, so he remained silent. Harry stared at Ron with surprise. He never thought he would hear Ron Weasley defending him. Ron caught his eye briefly, and then looked away again.

'Are we satisfied that Harry is innocent, then?' Dumbledore brought them all back to the matter at hand.

Rufus Scrimgeour looked at Harry darkly, clearly not satisfied, but he sat down acquiescently.

'I would ask you to not publicise the attack just yet Rufus,' Dumbledore went on. 'Obviously, the parents of the child will have to be informed, and a suitable excuse made as to why the boy has disappeared from Hogwarts, but for now, I think the matter should remain a secret. We cannot afford any more troubling news. The attack on the train was bad enough, but to have another only a few days later, and in Hogwarts to boot, would be disastrous.'

'Perhaps Hogwarts should be closed,' Rufus said.

'Close Hogwarts? You can't!' Ron argued.

'I agree with Mr. Weasley,' Dumbledore said. 'Closing Hogwarts is something that I will never agree to. We cannot let Voldemort think he is winning.'

'You think it was He Who Must Not Be Named then?' Rufus asked, casting a suspicious glance at Harry. Harry glared back.

'I do not know Rufus, but I am certain that he was at least behind the attack,' Dumbledore answered. 'The Dark Mark is testament to that. Perhaps by covering up the attack, we may be able to draw out the attacker.'

'Well, I will avoid publicising the attack for as long as I can, but you must know that eventually I will have no choice,' Rufus said. 'Parents have a right to know that they are sending their children into a potentially dangerous situation.'

'Thank you Rufus,' Dumbledore said.

No one knew quite what to say after that. Harry continued to glare at the back of Scrimgeour's head. Dumbledore studied his interlocked fingers. Ron looked at the tips of his trainers. Finally, the Minister cleared his throat.

'Yes, well, I'd best be going then.'

'Very well, thank you for coming,' Dumbledore replied.

Rufus cast some floo powder into the fireplace, green flames burst to life, and then he was gone. Ron let out a breath.

'Mr. Weasley,' Dumbledore got Ron's attention, 'I'm sure breakfast will have already started in the Great Hall.'

'Right.' Ron got to his feet, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He shuffled his feet for a few moments, glanced at Harry, then at Dumbledore, and then left. The door clicked shut behind him.

Dumbledore got out of his chair and wandered over to Fawkes. Idly stroking the birds golden feathered neck, he asked, 'any theories, Harry?'

Harry rubbed his forehead wearily. 'We do have a few foxes in our pen.'

'You're referring to some of your housemates, I presume?'

'Wouldn't surprise me,' Harry said. 'Voldemort used Blaise against us last year. I wouldn't put it past him if he decided to sacrifice a few more young, impressionable idiots.'

'Specifically?'

'Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle,' Harry answered. 'Maybe some others. I really don't have much faith in most of Slytherin house. I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up with a wand aimed at my head.'

'That could be problematic.'

'Don't worry about it. I don't intend to sleep in the Slytherin dorm this year.'

Dumbledore turned to face Harry, inquisition in his eyes.

'I found a chamber that can only be accessed via Parsletongue - leftovers of Salazar Slytherin. Rest his soul.'

'How long have you known of this chamber?' Dumbledore asked.

'Around four years,' Harry replied.

'It appears secrets are becoming a stable of our relationship,' Dumbledore observed.

'Guess so.'

They stared at each other for a few moments, both of them expertly hiding their feelings. Dumbledore sighed.

'This cannot go on, Harry.'

'What's that?' Harry shot back smoothly.

'This contest of wills you have forced upon us.' Dumbledore moved around to sit behind his desk again.

'I didn't force anything on us,' Harry said. 'If I remember correctly - and I don't mean to sound like a petulant child here - you started the secrets. Besides, what good would it have done if I told you about the chamber? It's not like you could do anything about it. I'm the only one who can access it. Well, Voldemort and me. In the grand scheme of things, it's really not a big deal. Especially when stacked up against, oh, let's say, a prophecy that defines ones life?' Harry delivered flatly.

'Alas, our secrets, however misguided, are in the past. I am proposing that we wipe the slate clean, as they say.' Dumbledore stared at Harry over his hands.

Harry stared back. 'We don't have time for this.'

Dumbledore glanced down at his desk, sighed, and then met Harry's eyes again. 'Very well.'

'What do you intend to do then?' Harry asked.

'I will do all that I can,' Dumbledore said. 'If your housemates are responsible, they will eventually make a mistake. Then I will act. In the meantime, I cannot assume that they are guilty, and therefore must search for alternatives.'

'I'm pretty sure it's them. Who else could it be?'

'Indeed.' Dumbledore took a breath. 'Thank you for this morning, Harry. I dread to think what pandemonium would have ensued had another student found the body.'

'Yeah.' Harry stood up and made to leave.

'Whatever you may think of me, Harry, know that I care for you more than is good for us. All that I have done, I did trying to protect you. In what I believed was your best interests.'

'"More than is good for us?" What's that supposed to mean?' Harry asked, his hand on the doorknob.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, head bowed in thought. 'Nothing. I have already said too much.'

Harry turned to appraise Dumbledore. 'More secrets?'

'Regrettably, it seems so.'

Harry looked forward again, turning his back to Dumbledore. 'I've been thinking about the fake locket. I saw one similar to that in Grimmauld Place, I'm sure of it, but I can't remember where.'

'I'll have Sirius look into it,' Dumbledore replied.

'Good.'

The door shut solidly behind him as Harry left.

Dumbledore lowered his head into his hands.

'You mean he blatantly accused you? Right in front of Dumbledore and Ron Weasley?'

Hermione was aghast. Harry had been expecting it. Draco remained silent.

The threesome sat in the Head's common room. Draco and Harry both lounged comfortably in the two wing backed chairs. Hermione, who until a few moments ago had been sitting in Harry's lap, was pacing before the roaring fire, looking adorably upset. At least in the world according to Harry, she did.

'You're surprised?'

'It's just not right, that's all!' Hermione raged. 'It's one thing for the newspapers to label you as a potentially dangerous dark wizard, but the Minister for Magic is supposed to be impartial. I mean there's no real proof. It's all just hearsay. Doesn't it bother you?'

'I think we've had this conversation before.'

'I just don't understand how you can be this blasé about it,' Hermione argued.

'It's simple,' Harry said. 'Practice.'

Draco smirked and made an amused sort of sound.

'You think it's funny?' Hermione rounded on him, hands balled into fists, placed menacingly on her hips.

Draco shrugged. 'Little bit.'

'Ugh!' Hermione scoffed. 'You two are both idiots.'

'Sit down sweetie,' Harry said, patting his lap.

Hermione scowled at him, but sat down and wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry kissed her jaw.

'I'm still mad at you.'

'Guess I'll have to make it up to you later,' Harry teased.

'Hah, yeah right. If you think you're getting some tonight, you have another thing coming mister.'

'You say that now,' Harry said, hand roaming up her thigh.

Hermione squealed and slapped his hand away. 'Harry! Not in front of Draco.'

Harry and Hermione both looked across at Draco, but he was staring ahead, looking a thousand miles away.

'Oh boy, not again,' Harry groaned.

'I never thought I'd ever feel this bad for him, but I can't help it. Honestly, I feel like I'm being ripped apart by conflicting emotions. Part of me thinks that Ginny was right to dump him, but another part just wants to see them get back together.'

'Yeah.' Harry leant towards Draco and snapped his fingers in front of his face. 'Hey, Draco, snap out of it.'

'What?' Draco's eyes finally focused back on them.

'What happened?' Hermione asked sympathetically.

'I don't want to talk about it,' Draco mumbled.

'It might make you feel better,' Hermione tried.

'I don't think so Hermione,' Draco said. 'I just… have to figure it out on my own.'

'Like always?' Hermione argued. 'I don't think handling things on your own has been working for you lately, do you? I like to think we've become friends, Draco. Harry is your best friend. That's what we're here for. That's what friends do. They help each other.'

'I can't,' Draco said, getting up. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob of his bedroom. 'Not now.'

'But…'

'Let him go,' Harry said gently, squeezing her reassuringly.

'You can't agree with his method of dealing with things?' Hermione protested. 'He needs guidance. Advice. I don't want to see him screw things up further, that's all.'

'If you try and force him, it'll only make things worse,' Harry said. 'Draco's doesn't like being told what to do. If you try that, he'll only do the opposite.'

'That's stupid,' Hermione said.

'But that's just how he is. Let him come to you on his terms. Give him some time to think it over.'

'I'm just afraid he won't come to me.'

'I think he will,' Harry said. 'Draco might be stupid sometimes, but he isn't an idiot. He knows he's been dealing with things the wrong way. He just has to realise it.'

'How do you know?'

'I know Draco. I know guys.'

'Hmm.' Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head wonderingly. 'You're all idiots.'

'Well, this idiot wants to talk to you about something,' Harry said.

'Oh really?'

'Yeah. But first, we've got a little business to take care of.'

'Business?'

'In the bedroom.'

'Oh, you're terrible.'

Business was taken care of and Harry and Hermione dozed soundlessly in the Head Girls dormitory. In contrast to Draco's room, Hermione's was decorated with the Gryffindor colours. Other than that, it was almost an exact replica; only slightly bigger and containing a dressing table for her personal grooming needs.

Hermione's head was a comfortable weight on Harry's chest.

'Harry?' Hermione whispered into his chest, getting his attention.

'Yeah?'

'You wanted to tell me something,' Hermione reminded him.

'Actually, I wanted to ask you something.'

'What is it?'

Harry thought. Ever since his meeting with Dumbledore earlier, and their subsequent confrontation, he'd been thinking non-stop about his relationship with the old Headmaster. It was true that their relationship had become strained after Harry forced Dumbledore to reveal the prophecy to him.

Harry had a rule. He only gave a person one chance, and if they messed that up, broke his trust, then that was it. They never got another. He would forever doubt that person's honesty, because, after all, if a person can lie to you once, they can do it again.

So after Dumbledore's secrets had been revealed, Harry had been forced to put the Headmaster under the list of people he no longer trusted. Dumbledore might not have blatantly lied to him, but Harry considered the prophecy to be a big deal, and Dumbledore had kept it from for too long. He couldn't help but wonder what else the old wizard was keeping from him. Every time he looked at him, these thoughts plagued his mind.

'Harry?'

'Mm.'

'What is it?'

Harry took a breath and decided. 'It's about Dumbledore.'

'What about him?'

'We talked today, after… you know… he wanted a fresh start between us.'

'A fresh start? Why?'

'Because he knows I don't trust him like I used too.'

'Because of the prophecy?'

'Yeah,' Harry said, 'because of the prophecy. He asked for a clean slate.'

'What did you say?'

'Nothing. I changed the subject.'

'Do you want a fresh start Harry?'

'I don't know. I'd like to be able to trust him again, but I don't think I can. It's just not in my nature.'

'I think that if you want to trust him, you can.'

'He's still keeping secrets though. He as much as told me.'

Hermione sat up and looked at him evenly. 'What did he say exactly?'

'He said, I didn't really understand it, but he said that he cared for me more than is good for us. I asked him what he meant, but he shrugged it off and said he'd already said too much.'

'He said he cared about you?'

'Yeah. Why?'

'Just, maybe that's what he meant. That he cared for you too much, and that was why he kept the prophecy from you, because he didn't want to worry you.'

Harry frowned, and then shook his head. 'Sorry Hermione, but that's a load of bollocks. He should have known that I was ready. I was already preparing to battle Voldemort before I even entered Hogwarts for the first time.'

'You where only eleven years old, and you where preparing to battle the darkest wizard the world has ever known? How did you know he was even still alive?'

'It was something Hagrid said to me when he collected me from the Dursleys. He said that he thought Voldemort was still alive, out there, just waiting to get back his strength. When he told me that, I was happy, because it meant I could get my revenge. I thought about nothing else but that over the weeks leading up to September the first. I was determined to become the greatest wizard to ever live, greater than Voldemort, so that when he finally came back, I would be ready to finish him for good.'

'I can't even imagine it. At eleven years old, you wanted,' Hermione shook her head, 'it's crazy.'

'Maybe if I didn't think that, things would have been different. The Sorting Hat saw it all in my head. It gave me a choice. I don't think it matters what house you're in, as long as you know what you want. I chose Slytherin because I wanted to get to know my enemy. It was as simple as that.'

Hermione gazed into Harry's eyes sympathetically. She gave him a deep, long kiss. 'You've had such a tough life, haven't you?'

'I chose that life Hermione. I don't regret it.'

Hermione smiled softly and snuggled into his chest again. 'Professor Dumbledore probably feels the same way. I mean that he wants to stop Voldemort, just like you. Maybe he did everything he thought he had to do, including putting you with your Aunt and Uncle and keeping the prophecy from you. You have the same goal. It should bring you closer together, not drive a wedge between you.'

'I don't doubt his intentions. I doubt his methods.'

Hermione kissed his chest, softening the blow for her next words. 'Like violating Katie Bell's mind?'

Harry sighed. 'Point taken. I guess we can both get carried away.'

'The fact is, he does care about you.'

'Yet he still treats me like a child, keeping things from me even now. Haven't I proved I can handle anything?'

'He took you along to get the Horcrux last year, didn't he?'

'He did that because he knew he couldn't handle it by himself. He just used me as a tool, that's all.'

'That's a little harsh, don't you think?'

'Harsh? Yes. Accurate? Yes.'

'You sure know how to hold a grudge, Harry.'

'That's my problem. I don't do it deliberately. I just can't help but feel this way.'

'Then perhaps you should try to learn how to forgive. I really don't know what else to say that I haven't already said.'

'You think I'm a horrible person?'

'No. Just damaged.'

'Think you can fix me?'

Hermione leant up to kiss his jaw. 'I'll try.'

It was the next day. Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor house table, attempting to wolf down her breakfast. After waking up late, curled up close to Harry, Hermione had rushed to get dressed, and then raced all the way down to the Great Hall, nearly bowling over a tiny first year on the way. Harry had left a book in Slytherin's Chamber, so he'd given her a cursory goodbye kiss and then left, only half dressed. So she sat alone at the table, watching as students funnelled out of the Hall one by one. She was going to be late for her morning class, which was Arithmancy, if she didn't hurry.

Trying to swallow a large piece of bacon and still appear dignified, Hermione pushed her plate away and went to leave the table. She was on the way out of the Great Hall when she bumped into Ginny.

'Hermione!' Ginny called.

'Hi Ginny, sorry, I can't talk. Going to be late.'

'Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,' Ginny trailed off.

Hermione was already leaving, walking backwards out of the Great Hall. 'Come by this evening, we'll talk then.'

'Okay, bye,' Ginny said.

Later that day, after both girls had finished their classes, they sat down around the roaring fireplace in the Head's common room. Harry, Draco and Neville had agreed to leave them alone to talk, and had gone off to the Room of Requirement to get some training in.

Ginny was sitting curled up in Draco's allotted chair, nursing a cup of coffee and staring into the flames. Hermione watched her, waiting patiently.

Finally, Ginny spoke up, although she continued to stare into the fire as if entranced. 'Draco ambushed me a few days ago. He wanted me to forgive him, to give him another chance. I shot him down.'

'That explains Draco's mood lately,' Hermione said, mostly to herself.

'He's been moody?'

'He's always moody. Just more so, lately.'

Ginny smiled a little. 'Yeah, I guess your right. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know him. Other times… I can't stop thinking about him. Why can't I just move on, Hermione?'

'Do you really want too?' Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

Ginny paused in thought. 'Sometimes,' she whispered.

'But not all the time?'

Ginny shook her head. 'What should I do? I can't stop thinking about him, but I can't trust him not to hurt me again. He just confuses me so much sometimes. Why can't it just be simple? Love him: be with him. Instead it's all: he hurt me, broke my heart, then saved my life and endured torture for me. What am I supposed to feel after all that?'

'I don't think anyone has the answer to that Ginny,' Hermione said consolingly.

'I think about all the things he did for me last year, and all the times we spent together, talking, sharing stories about our childhoods and… being intimate. I just can't help but wonder what, if any, of that was real.'

'I think you know one thing that was real, don't you Ginny?'

'What's that?' Ginny asked.

'Draco loved you. Loves you. You know that, don't you?'

'… Yes.'

'Why don't we start there,' Hermione said. 'I'm not going to defend him. What he did to you was terrible. We all know it. Draco knows it. And believe me, he regrets it every second. He let his pride get in the way of his heart when he hurt you. Harry went to great lengths to explain it all to me, because even I had a hard time understanding why Draco could do that to you. Somehow, Harry understands Draco better than anyone. Maybe even more than Draco understands himself.

'Harry told me that Draco can be stupid sometimes, but he isn't an idiot. He knows he made a mistake when he hurt you. But he didn't make it again, did he, Ginny? He allowed Voldemort to torture him, to humiliate him in front of the entire study body of Hogwarts. He sacrificed his pride to protect you.

'So yes, Draco loves you. Yes, Draco made a mistake. Yes, Draco learnt from that mistake. And yes, Draco is very, very sorry.'

'I want to forgive him,' Ginny said, 'but I… I don't think I'm ready. Not to be with him again. But I'm afraid that if I don't… he'll lose interest.'

'I don't think that will happen,' Hermione replied, biting back a smile, 'but if that's what's worrying you, how's this? Propose to Draco that you start a fresh, as friends, and that you see where it takes you. No pressure, no commitment. Just friendship. Then, in time, if you think you can, you can pursue a relationship together.'

'That… might work,' Ginny spoke softly.

'Just make sure he understands that and I'm sure it will.'

Ginny turned and smiled at Hermione. 'Thank you Hermione, you're a great friend.'

'Glad I could help.'

Ron Weasley couldn't stop thinking about the pale face of that nameless Gryffindor, staring lifelessly up at him. He had nightmares about it. It plagued his waking mind so cruelly that he sometimes wanted to scream.

Worst of all, he couldn't even talk to anybody about it. Nobody else in the school knew, except Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Potter. Professor Dumbledore was the Headmaster; so going to him was out of the question. Madam Pomfrey would probably lock him in the Hospital Wing and coddle him to death. Ron didn't even consider going to Potter - that was just never going to happen.

So Ron was forced to deal with it all by himself. That was why he had secluded himself away from the rest of Hogwarts, high at the top of one of the castles ramparts. He sat with his legs dangling over the side, gazing out at the horizon, watching the sun slowly set behind the mountaintops.

He wasn't normally one for quiet alone time, but for now, he just couldn't bear company. All he wanted to do was sit alone and think. Think about how something so horrible could happen inside the protected walls of Hogwarts. And think about who could ever do such a thing - murdering an innocent little kid in cold blood.

Ron was forced to the conclusion that it was someone already inside Hogwarts. It couldn't be an outside force (like You-Know-Who) because no one could get into Hogwarts without Dumbledore knowing - last term was a fluke, everyone knew that. So then it was either a teacher, or a student.

Ron didn't think it was a teacher.

That only left the students.

'It has to be a Slytherin,' Ron mumbled to himself.

But which Slytherin?

The Minister for Magic thought it was Potter. Could it really be him?

Ron would have liked to believe it, but a number of reasons prevented him. First and foremost, the Order of the Phoenix trusted Potter - Dumbledore trusted Potter. Hermione Granger was Potter's girlfriend, and she was always so smart and sensible, so surely she wouldn't be fooled if he were lying. And Potter had saved the lives of many Gryffindors during You-Know-Who's attack. But what really convinced Ron was the look on Potter's face when he first saw the boy. It was horror, sorrow, and anger.

So if it wasn't Potter…

Ron shook his head sadly. It could be anyone.

'Hello Ronald.'

Ron jumped and turned to find Luna Lovegood standing behind him, wearing a bright yellow sundress, a woolly hat that flopped down over her ears, and nothing else. She didn't even have any shoes on.

'Luna, what are you doing here?' Ron tried not to stare.

'I thought I'd come and watch the Pollot Flies,' Luna replied vaguely.

Ron tried to keep his mouth shut, but in the end, his curiosity got the better of him. 'Pollot Flies?'

'Yes,' Luna climbed up next to him and sat down, smoothing her dress down her legs. She gazed off into the distance.

Ron tried to see what she was seeing. 'I don't see them.'

'Of course you don't silly,' Luna said with a smile, 'they don't come out until after the sun has set.'

'Right. How silly of me.'

Ron went back to staring at the setting sun, but his traitorous eyes kept flickering back to Luna. She was staring ahead, eyes half closed. Was she asleep? She didn't even seem to be breathing.

'It's… nice out here, isn't it?' Ron tried, getting a little uncomfortable in the silence.

'Hmm.'

So she was still alive. That was good. Ron let his thoughts wander again, but before they could go far, Luna spoke.

'Are you okay Ronald?'

'Huh? Yeah. Fine.' Ron shuffled his feet. 'Why do you ask?'

'You seem distracted,' Luna said, still with her eyes closed, 'and you look like you haven't slept well.'

'You been watching me?'

Luna smiled.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Ron asked.

Luna continued smiling.

Ron sighed. 'I wish I could tell you,' he admitted.

'You can.'

Ron remained silent, but his eyes never left Luna's serene face, shinning delicately in the moonlight. With a start, he looked out at the horizon. The sun had finally set. Darkness encroached on them, buffeted only slightly by the moon.

'Oooh, how beautiful,' Luna hummed sweetly.

Ron again tried to see what Luna was seeing. Nothing.

'What?' he asked.

'Pollot Flies,' Luna explained. 'I've never seen this many.'

'I still can't see them,' Ron pointed out, squinting into the darkness.

Luna looked at him for the first time. 'Would you like too?'

Ron looked back questionably. Finally, he nodded.

Luna raised her hand and moved it over to his. Ron watched as it hovered above his, small and pale. He glanced up to find Luna watching his face. He smiled, somewhat confused by her strange behaviour. Luna let her hand fall and clasped his hand. He clasped back, delighted to find her hand warm and soft.

'Look,' Luna said, looking back out at the dark sky.

Ron looked. He saw. Thousands of tiny lights lit up the darkness, twinning around and in-between each other like living fireworks that never die, all of them somehow different, be it size, colour, or definition. Ron's mouth hung open. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Luna smiled at Ron and squeezed his hand. Ron looked back at her.

'How?' he asked.

'I can see them,' she squeezed again, 'and so you can.'

'They're beautiful,' Ron said.

'Yes, they are.'

They sat like that for nearly an hour, watching the Pollot Flies dance through the sky. Ron forgot all about his troubles, at least for the time being, and became entranced with Luna and the amazing spectacle before his eyes. Her hand was warm and sweaty inside his and he didn't care. He never wanted to let go, afraid that if he did, he wouldn't be able to see them again. Luna seemed more interested in watching him than the Pollot Flies.

'It's getting late,' Luna pointed out.

Ron came back to himself. 'Yeah, I guess,' he said.

'I had fun.'

Ron smiled. 'Me too.'

'We can do it again, if you want,' Luna proposed.

Ron nodded. 'I think I'd like that.'

Luna gently removed her hand from his and stood up. Ron turned and looked out at the sky. The Pollot Flies had vanished, as if they never even existed in Ron's world. Maybe they didn't. They existed in Luna's world. A world he couldn't wait to visit again.

'They've gone,' he said.

'They're still there,' Luna corrected him. 'You just can't see them anymore.'

'When can I… see them again?' Ron asked.

'Tomorrow?' Luna suggested, smiling sweetly. Ron couldn't help but smile back.

'Tomorrow. I can't wait.'

Ron stood up as well and watched as Luna slowly walked away.

She turned back only once. 'Goodbye, Ronald.'

'Goodbye, Luna.'

Then she was gone - like the Pollot Flies.