Unofficial Portkey Archive

TITLE: All Roads Lead Back

KEYWORDS: Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco and the rest of the gang. Primarily H/Hr, but a slew of various ships as well. Post-HBP.

SYNOPSIS: Harry Potter always figured that once his destiny was fulfilled he could finally have a happy, normal life. Unfortunately for him, he fell in love with his best friend...and everything went straight to Hell! A very gradual, slow moving H/Hr love story told through multiple canon character perspective as well as several flashbacks. Set 7 years after the final battle.

SPOILERS: All six books.

WORD COUNT: 22,199

RATING: NC17 for language and later sexual content.

BETA: Padfoot & murphsmine

WARNING: It's a Ginny-palooza!

DISCLAIMER: If it looks like it's JKR's, well, that's because it is. She's provided me with the canvas and I'm truly enjoying painting on it.

Saturday, 06/11/05

You are 3 years old the first time you hear his name.

You haven't learned your letters yet, but you are bright and you know instantly that it is a name that should be remembered.

Mum fixes all of their favorites because Bill and Charlie are home from school. Everyone is pleased except for Ron. He refuses to eat his carrots. He says that they are dangerously too close to the peas for his liking. Mum ignores this and instead reaches across the table to fix the mended table serviette beneath his chin. She clucks her tongue and confidently states that little Harry would most certainly eat all of his carrots.

Don't you want to grow up and be just like him Ronnie?

A tear quickly escapes her eye.

Dear little Harry.

Ron scowls down at his plate and sullenly folds his reed thin arms across his chest. George (or perhaps it's Fred) starts in on his baby brother calling him, "The Boy Who Bibbed" as mashed potatoes dribble slovenly down his chin. At the other end of the table your two older brothers laugh, dad hides his smile behind his serviette, while you hear a disdainful sniff to the right of you. Percy finds the whole thing dreadfully beneath him.

By this point it has occurred to you that you are the only Weasley who does not know who this "little Harry" is. You are the baby though, so it's really no surprise that everything comes to you last. Still you wonder who he is, would he like to play with you, does he like pepper imps too. In that babyish voice of yours you ask all of the above.

Who is Harry Potter?

Although he is only eight, Percy is already a git.

Don't you know anything, he asks with a sneer.

You get sent to bed early for throwing peas at your brother's nose. And to make matters worse, no one even bothers to answer your question. So as mum puts you down for the night you take a chance to ask it again.

Who is Harry Potter?

Mum purses her lips thinly deciding whether or not to say. Giving in, she finally begins to tell a tale about a young boy, barely older than you.

Dad was brave and handsome, she says.

Mum's hair as red as yours, she sighs.

Just a babe when he saved us all. A little hero.

Now go to sleep, you are told.

And you do. And that night you dream of that small prince.



You are 6 when you first hear the story.

You have a nightmare. Dad comes in the room and shakes you awake. After a glass of warm milk doesn't do the job, he decides to read to you for a spell. He takes down a raged copy of Toadstool Tales that has Bill's baby teeth prints still on it, but you do not want to hear the same dusty stories again. You want to hear about someone brave. You want to hear about someone strong. You want to hear about someone almost bigger than life. You ask your dad to tell you about Harry Potter. After craning his neck to make sure mum isn't standing just outside the door, he does.

There was a wizard. A terrible wizard.

Dad won't even say his name, he was so bad. He says You-Know-Who. You don't, but you don't let dad know. You fear that he will stop talking if you do, but he continues on regardless. He mentions the Potters and says that they are both dead now. He doesn't say how, but somehow you know it's bad.

Lily and James. James and Lily.

You think about Lily's hair. Red, like yours.

Dad tells you about the fear. He tells you about the terror. He tells you not to go telling your mum that he's told you all of this. You promise that you won't. Then he tells you about Harry. Dad's eyes smile as he does, so you smile too.

Everything is better now because of Harry. The bad wizard went away because Harry made sure of it. Someday he is going to be a great and powerful wizard when he grows up, that Harry, dad says. He'll go off to Hogwarts and someday so will you.

Even in the dark you still smile. The rest of the house hums with sleep long after dad has tucked you back in, but you lay awake and think about that far off fairy tale place called "Someday".



You are 10 when you first see his face.

Of course you have read every book you could find about him in the Little Witch's Reader section. And of course your ears perk at the mere whisper of his name. You know all there is to know about your hero, your prince. He's become "yours" by this point. You are devoted to that image inside your head. You know that his eyes are like glittering emeralds. You know that his hair is the same shade as the darkest hour of night. And the scar, of course you know about that too. In every fantasy he has held your hand a thousand times. You would know him anywhere, of this you are sure.

You also know that this is the year he will be getting on the Express.

Your mum has your hand in a death grip as she hustles the twins, Ron, and Percy towards platform nine and three-quarters. For the tenth time that day you beg to go on the train too, but you are told no. You are told that you are not old enough. You are told that it is not your turn yet. Just before you throw yourself on the ground to have a good cry, a little boy comes up and asks for your mum's help. You barely notice his knobby knees, his jutting elbows, his unkempt black hair, or his timid green eyes. You only fear that Harry Potter has already gotten on the Express without you even saying hello. The boy is far from sight by time the twins come back with mischief brimming in their eyes.

Guess who we just met on the train, Fred (or is it George) teases.

You small heart clenches in anguish when they say the name. Tears trail down your face as you wave goodbye to your brothers and chase after their train, watching as it pulls far out of sight. They promise you letters and treats, but your tears aren't meant only for them. No; not just for them.

You cry yourself to sleep for two nights straight.

Then on that third day a letter comes winging its way from Ron.

As if there was any doubt, dad chuckles proudly after hearing the news. Gryffindor.

And isn't this nice, adds your mum as she continues to read the note, so is Harry Potter.

It is in that very moment that you realize that Ron knows him, and with that thought in mind you can barely control your glee at the wonderfulness of it all. Because what it means is that you will know him and finally...FINALLY he will know you too.

And that night you cry yourself to sleep once again. But they are tears of joy now.



You are 11 when you realize that you will love him until the day you die.

You open your eyes. At first you fear that you have woken up in Hell. You are almost right.

The pitch black of the Chamber almost rivals that darkness that has invaded your mind all these months. But there is light now. There is Harry.

Your eyes fall on the dead basilisk, they widen in fear, but then you see him marching your way. He looks as though he stepped right out of the pages of a storybook. He has saved your life, but that doesn't really come as a surprise to you. In fairy tales the hero always saves the day. And he is your hero, after all. Yours. And now you know it's meant to be.

The years go on from there…

You are 12 when a grin is shared betwixt you. The first of many to come you hope.

You are 13 when your heart almost cracks in two. Your jealous eyes watch his watch someone else.

You are 14 when you decide that one day he'll come around.

You are 15 when that day finally comes.

You are 16 when he leaves you behind so he can go off and save the world.

You are 17 when you get to tell him what you've known all along for years; that you love him. It's always been him. It will only be him.

You are 18 when he makes you his wife.



You are 23 years old now. Two decades of your life has passed where Harry Potter has been the center of your universe, the sun that your world has revolved around. But after all is said and done, is that all there is? Is there nothing more?

The dragon has been slain, the princess saved, the evil sorcerer dispatched, but the books never say what's supposed to happen after.

What is supposed to happen after?

You don't know. You didn't think to plan that far ahead. Blindly you made your white knight a suit of armor never noticing that it didn't fit. So now what? Your castle tower has imprisoned you. Your diamond dreams are made of glass. The fairy dust was only quicksand and you are falling...falling...falling fast. Isn't it time now that you admit it? There is no pot of gold waiting after the rainbow. There will be no ride into a blazing sun. Instead of enchanted kisses, only reality can rouse you from this sleep. There is only this. THIS is how it all ends. And now you know.

And they all lived...

"Ginny?"

And they all lived...

"GINNY?"

And they all lived...

"GINNY?!!"

Happily ever after?

She stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror for a fraction of a second before bringing her blue eyes to the spot where her husband stood.

"If we don't hurry we're going to be late getting to Fred's," said Harry as he advanced slowly from his place in the bedroom doorway.

Ginny regarded him with an air of mute dispassion, before turning back to the mirror that hung on the open wardrobe door. She had been checking to make sure that her make-up was just right and that her ivory robes weren't cut too low, when the sound of Harry calling her name pulled her from her troubled thoughts. Having zoned back in, Ginny began to fuss with the stray hairs that had escaped her pin-up hairdo. It was merely a distraction tactic, though.

It was a ruse to ignore the awkwardness she felt between herself and Harry as he came to stand behind her. She pretended not to notice the way that he avoided looking her in the eye. She acted as though the tentative manner in which Harry placed his hands on her shoulders, then quickly dropped them to his sides, was normal. Everything about their interaction was painfully forced. Then again, this was how it had been between them for days…weeks…

Years?

"Fred and George have been bragging that they've hired a carriage drawn by a team of the best thoroughbred aethonons in Britain."

A tiny smile crossed Harry's face; however, he averted his eyes when they met with hers in the glass.

"Of course I think it's rather pointless to bother with some fancy rig to fly from the village over to the Ball. We could just Apparate in front of the gates of Hogwarts. Still, Fleur and Lavender seemed very excited about the whole thing. Even Percy and Penelope are going to ride with us. The whole family will be together. Should be fun, don't you think?"

Ginny could barely control her grimacing expression. It was a painful experience to watch nearly five years of a marriage reduced to small talk. She didn't even bother to answer Harry; just checked to make sure that there wasn't any lipstick on her teeth.

"Ginny," Harry began uneasily.

Ginny turned around and soberly noted the worried expression on her husband's face. Something in her demeanor must have alerted him that Ginny wasn't as excited about attending this Victory Ball as she had been in years past.

"Are you alright? Gin…"

Disdain flared within her for only a second before dying down. She hated it when he called her by that name. She only wished she could hate him.

"Don't call me that," she muttered sourly under her breath, just loud enough to hear. Harry's eyes finally made full contact with hers. Surprise creased his features making Ginny almost bray out loud.

Ha! That got your attention, she contemptuously thought.

"I'm fine," she then said as a phony smile tightened her glossy pink lips. She turned fully around to face him. "I'm just hoping that I don't run into another woman at the ball wearing my robes."

She smoothed the front of the empire fitted garment and posed so that her husband could admire the alluring figure she cut in them. Of course she was being disingenuous with her reply. Ginny only bought the best; she was Harry Potter's wife after all. She had to look the part. There wasn't the slightest chance of any other woman wearing robes as fine as hers at the Ball. Not even Leontyne Scrimgeour.

Ginny's breezy answer caused Harry's agitation to shrink and he smiled tentatively at her. It was the friendliest she had spoken to him in the last few days and it seemed to set him at ease.

"Well even if you do spot one I doubt the witch would look half as good as you," said Harry as he bent forward and laid an exaggerated kiss on her forehead.

Ginny, caught off-guard for a moment at the first bit of genuine affection Harry had shown her in a long time, actually smiled brightly until he continued speaking.

"You look like a princess," he said sweetly, then turned his back to her and headed out the door towards the stairs.

He never saw the stricken look on Ginny's face.

"I'm going to see if Dobby has some more of those tea sandwiches left before we leave," he called over his shoulder. "Knowing Scrimgeour, he'll talk and congratulate himself for hours before we get anything decent to eat."

Ginny watched as Harry's dark head disappeared down the curving staircase, while her stomach bubbled unhappily with discontent. Sighing bitterly, she scooped up her silk purse off the bed. She exited out the door to meet Harry downstairs. Their plan was to tandem Apparate over to Fred's house in Hogsmeade Village. Waiting for them there would be her parents, her brothers, their significant others, and in George and Charlie's cases, their dates for the evening. From there six, winged horses pulling a luxury carriage charmed large enough to fit their whole party would fly them over to Hogwarts. It would be the official start of what would possibly be a very eventful evening.

As Ginny trudged down the steps that led into the entrance hall, she wondered just what the night would entail. Would Ludo Bagman get drunk, naked, and end up in the lake with the giant squid again, like last year? Would the Hogwarts house-elves make that mouth watering baked quail that Dobby never seemed to get just right? Ginny wondered just how long the Minister's opening speech would last this time around. The all time record to beat was the Victory Ball of '03 that clocked in at well over 139.5 minutes and only came to an abrupt close after Millicent Crabbe thankfully went into labor 5 weeks prematurely. Just about everyone in attendance that night gave her a standing ovation for her impeccable timing alone.

All of this and more drifted in and out of Ginny's head as she reached the bottom step. Harry was already waiting there, holding her light weight cloak open for her. Ginny slipped the cloak on over her shoulders and turned back to give Harry an appreciative smile which he returned. As she buttoned up, she acknowledged to herself that Harry was being the perfect husband for the evening. More than likely she would be the envy of almost every woman inside of the Great Hall that night. Ginny wondered if their picture might even make the morning papers the next day.

She also wondered if her husband's mistress would have the gall to show up at the Victory Ball as well.

With that final thought, Ginny placed her hand in his and waited for Harry to Disapparate them away.

No one would ever mistake Ginny for being a stupid woman; she was after all a former Hogwarts Head Girl for Merlin's sake. She had also somehow managed to receive a higher score on her Potions and Charms NEWT than the self-proclaimed star pupil of the Weasley family himself, Percy. The fact still rankled the berk's pride. Ginny fancied herself a pretty brilliant tactician too; far more skilled than Ron ever thought himself to be. Sure Ron could plan excellent moves and strategies in front of a chess board, but it was his baby sister who knew how to execute a maneuver and manipulate a situation to get what she wanted in real life, where it really counted. After finishing Hogwarts, Ginny had even been secretly courted to become an Unspeakable, a truly prestigious honor. She didn't accept of course, Ginny had already mapped out her future next to Harry's and thought that such a career would take up time better spent keeping a home and raising a family. But she was still proud of the accomplishment.

By no stretch of the imagination could Ginny ever be considered an idiot, that's why when the signs started to point to her husband having an affair she could no longer ignore her qualms. The pounding headaches she was suffering from wouldn't allow her to, nor would the ceaseless nausea. She had experienced an attack that was so violent one day while visiting at the Burrow that her mother had gotten teary eyed thinking that a new little Weasley was on the way. It had broken Ginny's heart to lie to her mum and tell her that she had only eaten some bad shellfish the night before and that was the only cause behind her upset stomach.

Sure Ginny thought that something was amiss in her marriage when Harry started having his dreams, and the thought that Harry might no longer be attracted to her did cross her mind once they stopped having sex. But Ginny never really believed that Harry would ever be unfaithful to her. That was an idea too terrible to comprehend. The evidence was mounting though and she could no longer turn a blind eye to it.

Her sudden and fleeting bouts of illness were becoming stronger with each passing day. Harry had become very pensive of late, even more so than usual. He looked as though he had too many thoughts for his head to carry. There were even times where it looked like he was just this close to saying something to her before he would change his mind, shake his head, and walk away.

He was also keeping secrets. It had been days since Hedwig had last been home, yet Harry acted as though nothing was strange about that at all. When she questioned him about it, he stonewalled her. Ginny wasn't sure how this all tied into her affair theory, but she was almost positive that somehow it did. Then there were the late nights Harry blamed on work or claimed he was with Ron and Hermione, but Ginny wasn't dumb. She knew what was really going on.

The straw that really broke the hippogriff's back came about the very morning of the Victory Ball. For the past few days Ginny had been getting up early and floo'ing over to the Burrow at the crack of dawn. Her goal was to avoid Harry because she just couldn't deal with the crumbling failure her marriage had become. She figured that if she ignored the problem it would eventually go away on its own. This morning, however, she had overslept and Harry had awoken before her.

When Ginny stumbled into the kitchen she found her husband already there, sitting at the table, brooding over a cup of black coffee and reading the morning edition of the Prophet with a look of disgust on his face. She also spied a strange object lying on the breakfast table in front of him. It looked like one of those small Muggle tellfones she had seen Glinda and Penelope with a time or two.

Although she was vaguely aware that it served a function similar to a two-way mirror, Ginny was unfamiliar with the device. She and Harry led a lifestyle free of most Muggle conveniences. The Potters didn't even have one of those telly boxes in the manor because Ginny thought that they should have a traditional magical household as befitting an old and venerable family name such as theirs. As with most decisions that had to do with the way they led their daily lives, Harry had deferred to Ginny on this point. That's why Ginny was so surprised to see the mobile, as Harry called it, in the house. She also became suspicious when she saw Harry quickly shove the thing into his pocket as soon as she asked him what it was and why he had it. Though she didn't voice it aloud, she wondered if that was how he and his lover arranged their clandestine meetings.

Unhappily, the evasive way that Harry answered the questions she did ask him didn't quell any of Ginny's mistrust. According to him he had bought the mobile the day before while he was working in London. Hermione owned one and he was only curious about the piece of equipment, he said. For more than one reason this answer bothered the hell out of Ginny. Before Ginny could probe further, Harry threw the paper to the side, abruptly stood up from the table, and declared that he had to go to the Ministry to see about some paperwork that had to be finished just that very minute.

On a Saturday.

At eight o'clock in the morning.

The day of the Victory Ball.

As Harry floo'ed out of the house Ginny entertained the notion of following him to see if he was really going into the office or if that was just a ruse to go see his whore. Ginny was close to doing it too; she even had a handful of floo powder in her palm before she quickly discarded the idea. She still had her pride. There was also the off chance that Harry was actually telling the truth.

But she couldn't just stand by and watch some other woman walk off with Harry as their prize could she? No! He was the first thing that hadn't come to her as a hand me down. He was the first thing that belonged to her that was first rate. She had worked too hard for him. Ginny Potter would not be made a fool!

That's why Ginny came up with a better solution to her predicament. She wanted some tangible, viable proof that Harry was having an affair before she decided on what course of action to take. If she wanted answers to what her husband was really up to there was really only one person she could get them from; there was only one place she need go. Godric's Hollow.

Ginny ended up landing quite a bit shy of her mark. When the decision to confront Hermione came to her she tried to Apparate directly into the cottage, but something peculiar happened. As usual she had felt the pressurized sensation of her magic trying to transport her to her intended goal, but just as quickly she felt herself being wrenched back to the spot in her kitchen where she started from. Thinking that she might have actually misjudged where she was trying to get to (she had really only been inside the cottage once or twice so she wasn't all that familiar with it), Ginny tried three more times to get to the Hollow before realizing that there was an Anti-App on the house.

Fighting off the irritation at being locked out, Ginny decided to try the floo. That plan went nowhere as well. By that point Ginny had become incensed that she was being intentionally kept out of the old Potter home. But forcing that emotion to the side, she focused all of her attention on trying to get as near to the house as she could. After a few more failed attempts and a near splinching, she eventually ended up just outside of the cottage near the back.

"I know I left a message last night as well, but I just wanted to call today and touch bases with you again this morning, you see..."

When Ginny landed the first thing she heard was someone speaking nearby. Ginny followed the sound of the voice to find its owner in the yard behind the cottage.

"You are probably dreadfully busy today, I'm sure, but if you could spare me even a moment of your time I would be eternally grateful..."

Ginny peeked around the corner of the house. Sitting on a lounge chair facing the opposite direction was a woman dressed in a modest black swimming costume and wearing an enormous white sun hat on her head. The hat was so big that it would have been hard to guess who was under it except for one thing; the voice was unmistakably Hermione's.

She was talking to someone that Ginny couldn't see. At first Ginny thought that the hat might actually be blocking from view her companion, but there didn't appear to be anyone else in the yard except the sleeping dog near the patio door. It was when Hermione removed the hat from her head and dropped it on the ground that Ginny saw that she was holding an object up to her ear. It was a tellfone.

In her head Ginny could hear Neville's voice telling her that this wasn't such a good idea. Usually Neville was the voice of reason in her life, her rock, but for the moment Ginny didn't want to listen to reason. She hated the thought of him being disappointed in her, but Neville wasn't here now.

Besides, since taking up with his little girlfriend, Neville seemed to have less and less time for her and her needs. Whereas Ginny had once been confident that she was the most important person in his life, now she felt herself being steadily edged out of the way. That bothered her. And the fact that it bothered her bothered her even more. Ginny didn't even know why she was even spending so much thought on this Candy Lee person...ugh! She'd be gone soon enough just like all the rest, Ginny was sure. Neville would come to his senses eventually.

"I really should have seen someone about this sooner…I know I am probably being such a bother but...hello? Hello? Mrs. Leon?"

Ginny's attention was pulled back to Hermione. Hermione was so engrossed in what she was doing that Ginny felt free to observe her without fear of calling attention to herself.

"Oh," Hermione said sounding disheartened, "this is her assistant?"

Ginny very carefully crept further down the wall so she could better hear what was being said. She stooped down beside the wild rose bush next to her and continued to eavesdrop on the conversation. Whoever she was talking to, Hermione was quickly becoming frustrated by them.

"Yes, I understand that Mrs. Leon...oh, sorry...Ms. Leon is very busy, but all I really need is a moment of her time to..."

Whatever the person on the other end said must have irritated Hermione because she exhaled loudly and fell back on the lounge chair in a limp heap.

"If you don't mind, I would rather not discuss it over the phone. It's private. It's a legal matter of a very...delicate nature..."

Hermione's other hand sought the rather impressive yellow rock hanging from her neck and began to worry it between her thumb and index finger.

Ginny was intrigued by these words. She really couldn't see the other woman's face, a pair of large white sunglasses obscured whatever expression was there, but judging by the tone of Hermione's voice she wasn't very happy with what she was being told. Just who is Hermione trying to get in contact with and why is she so desperate to speak with them, Ginny wondered. She was stumped.

One thing seemed certain though, Hermione was at the Hollow alone. It looked like she had been in the middle of getting a bit of sun in the yard. There was a pitcher of water and a glass filled with ice on the ground next to the long folding chair, as well as a few books, a notepad, a bottle of suntan lotion, a towel, and a tote bag. The patio door was open, but there didn't seem to be anyone in the house.

With Hermione so distracted, Ginny took a moment to give her a thorough once over. Ginny wasn't so insecure in her own good looks not to concede the fact that, as Molly Weasley had once predicted, the former brunette had managed to mature into an attractive young woman. Sure her hair looked like it was regressing back to the bushy monstrosity that it had once been, and Ginny wasn't above gloating that her bathing suit (a two piece actually, now that she got a better look at it) didn't do much to hide the little bit of protruding belly that plagued most women other than herself.

But besides that and a few other noticeable flaws (her eyes were set too close together, her chin was too sharp for her face, the upturned tip of her nose always gave off the impression that she thought she was better than anyone else breathing), Hermione looked like her time away from England hadn't hurt her at all. She even looked better than she had the day she showed up from out of nowhere on the Burrow's doorstep just at the close of Ron's engagement party. There was a rosy bloom about her that glowed through, even past her healthy tan.

Ginny simply hated her.

No. That wasn't exactly right.

Hate was too modest a word to describe the complicated emotion that pumped through Ginny's blood stream whenever someone so much as mentioned the name Hermione Granger. If it was possible to both like and loathe, abhor and admire someone so completely that at times you didn't know whether you wanted to spit in their face or cry on their shoulder, that was actually a mite closer to what Ginny really felt. All these years Ginny had assumed that these tangled up emotions had simply dampened out on their own. Out of sight; out of mind, as they say.

But now all she had to do was look at her girlhood friend and see that they had merely been dormant; biding their time to rise up like some daunting tidal wave and crash down, drowning all else. But as usual Ginny's single-mindedness wouldn't allow herself to think too hard on such matters. Ginny needed Hermione once again and that was what was important now.

Ginny could still remember when she first came to realize that Hermione Granger could be...useful. It was at the Quidditch World Cup. The Bulgarian mascots were doing their mating dance, whipping all of the men in the stadium into near frenzy. Ginny had hoped that Harry was powerful enough to be immune to the veela thrall, but he succumbed just like all the rest.

In fact Ginny looked on in terror as it appeared that Harry was prepared to hurl himself from the top of the stands to get to them. Then a strange and wondrous thing happened. Hermione, who had been studiously observing the strange display on the field thus missing Harry and Ron's antics, took one look at both of her best friends' enraptured expressions and rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Harry, what are you doing?" she asked in that snooty little voice of hers.

Just like that, Harry suddenly seemed to revert back to his good senses; before the veela's singing had stopped, before everyone else had started to shake the veela enchantment off. Harry looked at Hermione with a mixture of chagrin and appreciation after she pulled him back into his seat screeching "honestly" at him and Ron. No one had seemed to think that this occurrence was anything out of the ordinary, but Ginny was awed by it. Although Harry was without argument the leader of the little gang, Ginny saw that Hermione wielded a bit of power in the group as well. Both boys seemed to defer to her at times, most interestingly Harry. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad getting to know Hermione better, Ginny began to think. Until that moment she hadn't thought of the girl as anything but a nuisance.

Ginny first became aware that Hermione Granger existed in a letter that Ron had written home his first year at Hogwarts. Her name wasn't mentioned in the parchment, but Ron did carry on and on about a girl in his year who was a Gryffindor too, and judging by Ron's rants, the very bane of his existence. But by Ron's next owl the mystery girl had not only gained a name, but had also been rescued from out the clutches of an evil troll by Harry and himself. After that each subsequent letter home was filled with tales of the scrapes and adventures the three new found friends had gotten into, as well as a few scattered complaints detailing all of the nagging Ron had to endure from this Hermione person.

Ginny didn't like the sound of it one bit! Who, by Godric, was this girl who had taken the place next to Harry that rightfully belonged to her?! Ron was her brother! Harry was his friend! To Ginny's mind, that was as good a claim as any. She was the person that was supposed to be sharing in all of their grand escapades. Ginny disliked the girl on principle alone.

Ginny also found herself being jealous of the intruder. Ginny wouldn't be able to get to Hogwarts until the next school year; had she already lost her place? How would Ginny ever get close to Harry if this stranger was standing in her way? She was supposed to be the girl at Harry's side; she had dreamed of it, planned for it, set her heart on it for years. Most of Ginny's fears were alleviated though once she got a look at her mystery rival.

After Harry had been rescued from his Muggle relatives, he had come to stay with her family for a few days at the Burrow before the new term started. On the day the family headed into Diagon Alley to get the children's school supplies Harry had gotten separated from their group. When the Weasleys eventually caught up to him he was standing on the steps of Gringotts with the burly Hogwarts gamekeeper and a girl whose hair was so big and frizzy that it defied all natural convention, even by wizarding standards. When the girl smiled warmly at Ginny the redhead instantly noticed the enormous buck teeth that nearly took up the girl's mouth.

This was the infamous Hermione Granger?! This was the young witch that Ron called "scary" in that almost worshipful and envious fashion of his? This plain little thing?! She was no competition at all! Ginny's mind was at peace. That is until the three young friends separated away from the rest of the group, trudged up the stairs of the bank, and began to whisper amongst each other shutting everyone (most importantly Ginny) out. Ginny hadn't known then that it wouldn't be the last time they would do so.

Ginny learned the real meaning of the word envy that day. She envied the older girl's brand new books that she didn't have to buy secondhand and all of the expensive school uniforms and robes that she treated as insignificant. Hermione's parents were well off but she didn't flaunt this fact like most of the wealthier students in the school. Even though Ginny's grades were pretty good she found herself being jealous of Hermione's far more superior scores. But more than anything, Ginny coveted Hermione's position in the Trio. Her presence made Ginny nothing more than a bystander. How could Ginny hope to compete with "the greatest witch of her age", when she was nothing more than a poor little Weasley? Ginny found it hard to be very chummy with the girl, even when Hermione tried to make nice. But by the time Ginny turned 13 she had a changed of heart.

That summer Ginny began to cultivate a relationship with Hermione; to ingratiate herself to the girl. It was surprisingly easy. Hermione might have been book smart and clever but even she had difficulty navigating her way through the perilous jungle of Hogwarts' teen aged witches. Hermione longed for a female friend she could relate to and Ginny cunningly positioned herself into the role.

The way Ginny saw it, getting close to Hermione meant getting closer to Harry. In her opinion it was a fair trade off. By the sneaking glances the brunette would often pay Ron, Ginny began to get the impression that Hermione might actually fancy her nitwit of a big brother. This made a friendship between the two of them more likely since she didn't have to worry about Hermione being a contender for Harry's affections. Ginny figured that she could help Hermione with Ron; encourage her, be a sounding board for when her brother acted like a stupid git, and most importantly ensure that Hermione didn't get any ideas in her head about the green eyed member of their group.

In a way, their alliance was mutually beneficial for both of them. At least that's how Ginny rationalized it. Did she feel any guilt over basically using Hermione? Not really. Weren't they both getting something out of the deal? Besides, though Ginny never intended for it to happen, she eventually came to appreciate and rely on the girl. Over the years Ginny grew to care for Hermione in her own way. One might have even called the sentiment love...

...edged with just the faintest hint of contempt.

"Just please have Ms. Leon call me when she gets a chance. Please!" Hermione begged the person on the other end of the tellfone as she sat up and straddled the folding chair placing both bare feet on the ground. "You wrote down my number? Good. I'll be waiting for her call then. Thank you."

Ginny watched as Hermione pressed a button on the mobile, presumably to turn it off, then dismally tossed the gadget in front of her. She appeared to be lost in thought for a moment, just gazing straight ahead, before she lowered her head into her hands.

"Dammit, Hermione! What are you going to do?! What are you going to do..." she half-sobbed to herself as her head swung loosely back and forth in her palms. If Hermione was aware that she had an audience, she gave no sign of it. She just continued to incoherently blather on and on to herself as Ginny watched, mesmerized.

"What are you going to do?! Why did you wait so long?! What are you going to do?! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!"

Although Ginny had no idea what could be upsetting Hermione, the wretchedness and misery in her voice was plainly evident. Ginny could empathize with that kind of anguish. Ginny was surprised to feel a long dormant urge to go up and sit next to her; shoulder some of Hermione's pain, relieve herself of a bit of her own heartache. One of her feet even stepped forward of its own volition, as if to boldly head in the direction of the other young woman. It was reminiscent of so many instances in their girlhood where the two of them would lie together in some bed in the Burrow, or sit in some dark corner at Grimmauld Place, and cry into each others hair when none of the boys were looking.

Whether it was love or loss or loneliness that fueled those tears, it didn't matter back then. It was those times, right before the war fully kicked into gear and everything changed, that it had almost felt like she had a real sister; someone who felt her pain and suffered it as though it were her own. There were times that Ginny honestly found herself missing the relationship that she and Hermione had once shared. But those days had long since passed. Ginny had come to Godric's Hollow on a mission and Hermione's sad display wasn't going to make her forget what was really important.

*snap*

Then again she would have rather not alerted Hermione of her presence just yet either.

Ginny looked down at the rogue foot that she had absently stepped back on and silently cursed at the twig it snapped in half. Her hopes that Hermione hadn't heard a thing were dashed as soon as she heard the woman's agitated voice call out.

"Who's there?!"

Panicking, Ginny swiftly retreated to the side wall of the house to hide in its shadow. She contemplated Apparating away before she was discovered, but before she could get her wits together to do just that, an enormous ball of hair knocked her to the ground.

"Hermione, call your dog off! CALL IT OFF! AHH!" Ginny hollered as she threw her hands in front of her face and tossed her head from side to side to keep the animal from licking her face clean off. She heard the sound of foot steps hastening in her direction. When Ginny was able to look up, she saw Hermione's surprised face peering down at her.

"Ginny?" Her tone was both concerned and astonished. "What are you doing down there, Ginny?"

With a roll of her eyes and an exasperated huff, Ginny answered her.

"The backstroke. Now do you mind helping me up?!"

~~**~~ ~~**~~

Ginny's eyes roamed around the living room. Hermione was in the kitchen fixing coffee leaving her guest ample time to inspect all of the changes that had been made to the place since she had last been there. Ginny was still extremely vexed that Harry hadn't bothered to ask her if it was alright to move Hermione into the cottage, she didn't even hear about it from him, but Ginny had to admit that Hermione had done wonders with the place in the short time she had been living there.

The living room looked both lush and comfortable. It was decorated tastefully; all dark browns and tans, mute greens, and pale rose colored furnishings. Vases overflowing with wildflowers filled the room making it appear brighter and smell sweet. The new look was a sight better than the outdated furniture and the unpleasant, dreary atmosphere that Ginny remembered once lurking there.

Scattered through out the room were items that clearly indicated who resided in the house; a bookcase, a telly box, a tellfone that was thrown carelessly on the sofa cushion next to Ginny. There was a bag of yarn, knitting needles, and a pair of scissors on the nearby end table. Hermione mentioned in passing that she had been unable to sleep the night before and had started knitting a cap for Dobby to pass the time.

There also were a few old photos of friends and family (some moving, some not) on the fireplace mantle. Ginny didn't miss the fact that she wasn't in any of them. Every so often a muffled bark would come from the dog upstairs. Yes, the place was warm and cozy. It felt like a real home had once again been made out of the Potter cottage, which only led Ginny to wonder one thing; just how bloody long was Hermione planning on staying there?!

"Two sugars, one cream, right?"

Ginny looked up to find Hermione standing over her holding a small silver tray with two porcelain cups and matching saucers. She made an interesting picture; the lady of the house entertaining while looking as though she had just come home from a day at the beach. Hermione still had on the black halterneck top with its matching boy cut shorts, but thrown over the ensemble was a gauzy caftan. The only bit of jewelry that she wore, beside the one around her neck, was an elegant watch on her wrist. Her face was scrubbed clean and her hair was pulled back from her face haphazardly as a few wiry looking tendrils escaped the leather barrette that was holding them in place. She would have looked perfectly relaxed if not for the circumspect look of caution that shadowed her eyes.

"Excuse me?" Ginny asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"You still take your coffee that way, don't you?"

Hermione set the tray down on the end table next to her. She then handed her a cup with a saucer under it.

"Two cubes of sugar and one tablespoon of cream, as I recall." She smiled weakly as Ginny took the cup from her hand.

"You still remember that?" asked Ginny, slightly surprised. She bent her head to take a whiff of the brew; her cheeks turning rosy from the heat of it. It smelled of hazelnut. Ginny was delighted to find that it tasted of it too.

Hermione turned to pick up her own cup blocking her face from Ginny's view.

"There's very little I forget," she said before turning back, sitting down, and taking a careful sip of the steaming hot beverage. After lowering the cup from her lips, she turned her eyes towards Ginny expectantly. "So Ginny, what do I owe the pleasure? Are you looking for Harry?"

Ginny's head shot up from her cup and her eyes turned into slits.

"I very well know where my husband is!" she snapped. She instantly regretted it, though. Ginny knew that she had a tendency of letting her temper get the better of her. Seeing Hermione's eyes widen at the harsh sound of her rebuke, Ginny tittered nervously. It wouldn't do to put Hermione off just yet.

"Harry had to stop in at the office," Ginny said in a false, lighthearted manner.

"Oh. Then why..."

"I'm actually here to see you," Ginny answered truthfully. Ignoring the sight of Hermione's gaping mouth, Ginny continued. "I was just thinking this morning that I've been so rude, not stopping by before now to visit. So here I am."

"So here you are," Hermione cautiously responded.

"So..."

"So..."

Silence. Neither woman could find much to say to each other really. They both just sat there, stewing in their own thoughts, each taking measured sips out of their cups to avoid looking at the other. There was once a time when the two of them would have been able to prattle on endlessly about one subject after another, but those days were long gone now. Even though Ginny knew that she was partly responsible for the impasse, she couldn't help but miss the ease their relationship had once held. But there was no use crying over spilt potion, she believed.

"Oh," Hermione said breaking the quiet at last. She lowered her cup and crossed her ankles. "I ran into Eloise in Hogsmeade yesterday."

Hermione smiled, obviously grateful to find something to fill in the void.

At the mention of Eloise's name Ginny felt a mild twinge of annoyance. The last time she had seen Midgen, Ginny hadn't been that friendly to her. Eloise could be quite clingy at times, and since very few people spoke to her these days she would often latch on to those that did like a parasite, doing anything and saying anything to curry any favor. Ginny tolerated her, but just barely.

This particular day, however, Ginny had been in far too grumpy a mood to bother with false pretenses and blew her off. Saddened by Ginny's aloofness, Eloise had asked Lavender if she had somehow done something to offend Ginny. When Lavender tentatively brought the subject up with Ginny she had scoffed at the idea. As if acne scarred, needy, destitute little Eloise could do anything to offend her! That would suggest that they were actually equals or something. On the scale of things, Eloise's hurt feelings barely registered with her. Neither did the fact that even Midgen had a baby when Ginny, herself, did not.

"She was pushing her little Apollodorus down the street in his pram," Hermione continued. "He's such a precious little dear."

"She never goes anywhere without that baby. It's nauseating really," said Ginny, barely hiding the note of jealousy in her voice. "Did you know she calls him Apple?" she asked. "Really, what yahoo would name their child after a fruit?!!"

Hermione brought her cup up to her lips to conceal the small smile that had formed there.

"You'd be surprised," she said before tipping the cup up.

Ginny's lips spread in a brittle smile. She didn't get Hermione's "humor" but that was nothing new. Oftentimes Hermione would make a comment that would go over her head and Ginny would ignore it. She only hated it when Harry would get the sometimes vague Muggle references or jokes and the two of them would share a grin or laugh over it. There were many moments such as those that made Ginny feel as though she were being shut out all over again. She even believed that Hermione would do it on purpose at times.

"Well I asked Eloise if she was coming to the V-Ball, but she said she had other plans."

Ginny snickered at what she thought was an obvious joke. This seemed to puzzle Hermione.

"What?" she asked.

"More like Eloise wasn't invited to the Ball."

Hermione's back went rigidly straight. "Why not?" she asked stiffly.

Of course she knew why, she hadn't been gone that long. Still, Hermione seemed almost unwilling to believe the answer. Ginny saw no reason to sugarcoat the issue.

"Well, she isn't married."

It had been a mild scandal, and a slow news day, when it had been reported in the Daily Prophet that Eloise had been let go from her position of two years with the Wizarding Examination Authority because she was pregnant. Even though Eloise was responsible for only sending out and filing the student's test scores, the Ministry felt that her obviously lax morals left her as an undesirable. Scrimgeour's administration had been getting increasingly conservative over the years and most of polite society took their cues from it.

The official reason given for Eloise's dismissal was that she had changed test scores, but according to her that was an ugly lie. Eloise loved her job and treated it with the proper respect and reverence it deserved. Problem was Eloise was loose when it came to men. She could never keep a boyfriend for long and was known to bounce from one relationship to the next. That could have been ignored. A baby with no husband in sight, could not. Her last boyfriend had been the pimple faced idiot who had been the conductor on the Knight Bus. When Eloise told him about the baby he took off for parts unknown and hadn't been heard from since. To make matters worse, according to Daphne's gossip column, it was rumored that Shunpike might have actually been a Squib. Not only was Eloise going to have a baby out of wedlock, but her child might not even grow up to become a full-fledged wizard.

Poor Eloise had been left pregnant, jobless, and broke. She would have been almost friendless too if it hadn't been for the Gryffindors that had rallied around her. Gryffindors stuck together. Lavender especially went out of her way to be kind to the young mother. She would often say that she could understand how someone could get themselves in such a predicament. Lavender was usually a follower; she adhered to public opinion stringently, so her sympathetic stance on Eloise was quite out of character. Her loyalty never wavered, though.

Despite being in the same year, Ginny and Eloise had never been close, but Ginny did feel a modicum of pity for her and acted accordingly. Most people, however, either treated her like a poor relation or disregarded her wholly. She was neither rich nor famous nor beautiful enough for people to forgive (or at least ignore) her transgressions. Eloise was nothing short of a social pariah.

"Is it a crime now to be unmarried? Ginny, plenty of women raise children on their own these days. And do it quite well, I might add."

Ginny fought hard not to roll her eyes. Merlin, Hermione could be so damned condescending at times!

"I'm sure Muggle women do," Ginny said dismissively. "Hermione, you may be perfectly happy being all alone and never marrying, but do you really think Eloise would be a single mother if given a choice? No. But Eloise was just so desperate for any male attention that she went and got up the duff knowing that most wizards and witches aren't so tolerant of that kind of behavior. It was a bad judgment call. I feel sorry for her, but she was rather stupid. Any bad treatment Eloise receives is her own damned fault."

"Wow. That is harsh."

Ginny, feeling as though Hermione's last remark was almost a swipe at her, squared her shoulders and dug into her argument.

"If a woman wants to sleep around, more power to her; I won't judge. I just can't relate. I suppose I'm just old-fashioned that way. I waited until I was married, as was proper. Harry was my one and only. Can I help it if I got lucky?" she added with a prideful grin.

Hermione's lips stretched thinly but she made no response. After a moment's pause she said, "I guess you did," as her eyes cut away from Ginny.

Silence then filled the room again. This time, however, it was a distended quiet. Judging by Hermione's last stilted remark it was obvious that she was weighing her words carefully with Ginny now. For her part, Ginny was doing the same thing. This brainless chatter was far from what she really wanted to discuss with her, but Ginny knew she couldn't rush things. If she did that Hermione might shut down and Ginny might never get out of the bothersome bint what she needed. Ginny had to play this wisely; get Hermione to open up, loosen up. Maybe even butter her up if she had to. Then, once Hermione was feeling comfortable in the conversation and speaking freely, Ginny would blindside her.

"Did you know that Incantato Buchignani is going to be performing at the Ball tonight? I think he's just fabulous, don't you? Doesn't hurt that he's very easy on the eyes," Ginny added impishly.

"I'm not all that familiar with him I'm afraid," Hermione said after placing her cup on the tray next to her.

"Oh really? You were always so knowledgeable about those kinds of things. People still ask me about the band that you hired to play at my Ending Party."

Hermione smiled. "Gavin Gibbons' Ghostly Troubadours were a nice find. They were rather good, weren't they?"

Ginny nodded her head to agree.

"They were fabulous! I've been trying to get Lavender to book them for her reception, but her wedding planner keeps poo-poohing all of my ideas. That Borghese person says that Big Band music isn't nearly sophisticated enough for the kind of bash she's putting together."

"That's too bad. It would probably be loads of fun."

"I think she's trying to get Incantato. Mum won't be pleased. You know that she's one of Warbeck's most devoted fans. According to the Prophet she and Buchignani used to be lovers, but he was just using her to get access to all of her booking contacts. Now they are the fiercest of rivals. Did you happen to read about that?"

Hermione grimaced. "No, I don't read the Prophet. Glinda, however, did floo in earlier to inform me about today's front page."

An apologetic look crossed Ginny's face.

"Oh, sorry."

Ginny had only gotten a chance to give the morning's paper a passing glance, but what she did see was a photo taken the day before that made it out to look as though Hermione was assaulting some poor elderly crone in the middle of the street. GRANGER GOES WILD IN DIAGON, read the title caption in bold block lettering above the picture.

Hermione smiled wryly.

"It's alright. I've gotten used to it. However I won't be sad when they move on to some new whipping boy. Rita must be scraping the bottom of the barrel to come up with stories now. I can't wait until tomorrow's headline; Hermione Granger Eats Live Puppy."

Unfeigned laughter flowed from Ginny's lips. Ginny laughed so hard that tears actually welled in her eyes. Hearing her laughter, Hermione smiled and added her own small chuckle. The bit of levity seemed to be just what was needed to finally break the ice. She and Hermione were starting to get cozy with one another at last and Ginny was starting to feel secure. If she played her cards right she would have Hermione spilling all that she knew in no time; she felt assured in that belief. Yes, Ginny's cocky grin was nearly a mile wide. She was this close to getting what she wanted.

And then Hermione's tellfone made a loud buzzing noise and disrupted the easy-going air.

Both women looked down at the little Muggle device that Hermione was now holding up in her hand. Ginny took a glance at Hermione and saw a look of uncertainty flicker across her face. The mobile then buzzed again.

"Expecting an important call?" asked Ginny.

Hermione's brown eyes shot up and met hers. It was almost as if Hermione had forgotten she was there, she was so focused on the mobile.

"Pardon?"

Ginny shrugged her shoulders innocently.

"I heard you outside earlier. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"Oh," Hermione said before smiling feebly, "I'm just seeking some legal advice on my parents' estate. Nothing too big. You don't mind if I get this, do you?" she asked as she pushed a button and lifted the mobile to her ear. She didn't bother to wait for Ginny's reply. The redhead just sat back against the sofa and drank down the last drops of her coffee.

She also tried to look inconspicuous as she pretended not to listen to every word that was being said.

"Hello? Yes, this is Miss Granger," she answered, a nervous tremor in her voice. She paused for a moment, then closed her eyes as a relieved sigh escaped her lips. Her hand reached up, as though to still the beating of her heart. As Hermione opened her eyes again a pleased grin went from ear to ear. "Ms. Leon, I am so glad to hear from you."

Every word was punctuated as if to emphasize her point. She then giggled.

"Oh, alright; Amparo. Yes, as I was telling your assistant earlier I was hoping to uh…"

Hermione's eyes nervously shifted towards Ginny. They then darted away as she quickly stood up and proceeded to move behind the sofa, padding back and forth.

"...discuss some things with you," she finished in a lower, hushed tone. "Plans for this afternoon?" she asked.

It was at this point that Ginny decided to give up all pretenses that she wasn't listening in to the conversation. Ginny turned in her seat and watched Hermione walk from one direction to the other, but Hermione completely ignored her. Worry creased Ginny's brow. Her almost haughty confidence from mere seconds ago shriveled into dread. The niggling feeling that her window of opportunity was about to put up a closed for business sign began to set in.

"Well I am supposed to meet Glinda in London later. She made appointments for us at some fancy spa in Mayfair."

Hermione nodded her head.

"Yes, that's the one. What a lovely coincidence!" she said smiling brightly. "I would love to meet for brunch beforehand. Yes, I'm familiar with that restaurant. My parents' clinic wasn't too far from there. 11:30? Brilliant! I'll see you then."

After Hermione turned off her mobile she hugged it to her chest and exhaled. Though her head was lowered Ginny could clearly see Hermione silently mouth the words, "thank you". She then turned to Ginny, flashed a sparkling white smile and said, "I hope you don't mind Ginny but I've got to run."

Ginny nearly slid off the sofa.

"What?!"

Hermione appeared to be completely oblivious to her guest's rattled behavior. She just gingerly walked up, plucked the cup and saucer out of Ginny's hand, and placed it on the serving tray.

"Sorry I have to cut this short, but I've got to go." She headed in the direction of the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind seeing yourself out," she called from the other room.

For a moment Ginny almost believed someone had placed a sticking charm under her; she felt glued to her seat. She watched helplessly as she realized that she was about to lose her chance to pump Hermione for information as she had planned. If she didn't act fast she might never get the answers she so desperately needed.

That thought is what finally spurred Ginny to action. She jumped up and nearly ran for the kitchen. From the doorway she watched as Hermione dropped the dishes in the sink and set the tray on the counter. When she turned around she actually looked amazed to find Ginny standing there.

"You're still here?"

"We hadn't finished our talk yet," Ginny said as she fully entered the room.

"Oh. Well, I suppose I could always stop by Wiltshire sometime next week. We could visit then. How does that sound?"

Hermione barely glanced at Ginny as she went back into the living room. Instead she was so focused on her own plans for the rest of the day that she didn't notice the meltdown Ginny appeared to be having. Hermione was saying all of the polite, proper things that one was supposed to say to company, but Ginny was so unnerved that she couldn't be bothered with propriety, or duplicity for that matter, any longer. She whirled around and watched Hermione walk out the room.

"TERRIBLE! THAT'S NOT WHAT I CAME ALL THE WAY OUT HERE FOR!" she yelped.

Even in her own ear her voice sounded abnormally high and screechy.

After those last words left her lips, all went still. Hermione then slowly reentered the door frame of the kitchen. Her face was expressionless. After what felt like forever she finally spoke.

"What you came here for?"

"I...That didn't come out right."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure. So tell me Ginevra," she said as she leaned against the doorway and folded her arms across her chest, "what exactly did you come out here for today? And please spare me the long version."

Ginny wanted to plug her! She knew that she had to keep her cool though if she was going to get Hermione to admit to what Ginny knew she was guilty of.

Her mouth worked open and closed a few times trying in vain to come up with something suitable to say, but Hermione became impatient waiting for a response.

"Well, why are you here?!"

"I'm here because…you see…what I'm trying to say…"

"I'm sort of pressed for time so if you don't mind-"

"DAMMIT! I'M TRYING TO EXPLAIN MYSELF!" Ginny yelled.

Hermione looked less than pleased with her quick retort.

"Well perhaps it would serve your best interests speaking to Lavender or…or Luna or somebody."

She was being very difficult and if the harried expression on Hermione's face was any indicator of her true feelings, she wasn't going to make this situation easy for Ginny at all. What she needed was some way to soften Hermione up.

"I don't want to speak to either of them. I need you," she said.

If only she could find a way to distract Hermione, she thought. She needed something that she could hold over Hermione's head to make her shut her trap and listen to her. What could do that, she desperately wondered.

"I don't think-"

"This concerns Harry!" Ginny finally blurted out.

Hermione's arms dropped to her side and the harsh lines of her face relaxed.

"Harry?" she asked softly, her voice wavering.

Although not a muscle on her face twitched, inside Ginny was beaming. Jackpot!

"Yes," she said as she nodded her head solemnly, "Harry."

The frown lines on Hermione's forehead wrinkled. She looked at Ginny warily. "What about Harry? Is something wrong with him?"

"In a manner of speaking," answered Ginny slyly as she glided by Hermione and walked back into the living room. Hermione was helpless to do anything but anxiously follow after her.

"What does that mean? Is Harry hurt? Is he in trouble? Harry seemed just fine yesterday."

Ginny sat down on the sofa again and elegantly crossed her legs.

"I'm sure he did," she muttered lowly.

A confused Hermione came and sat next to her.

"Ginny, you are scaring me. Now what is going on?"

"I have to do something. I don't think I can keep quiet any longer. I think…I think…" Ginny's eyes moistened as she dropped them to her lap. She knew she had to play this just right. Her marriage depended on this.

"Yes?" Hermione worriedly asked as she leaned in closer.

"Harry is cheating on me."

She lifted her eyes to catch Hermione's reaction to this revelation. She expected to see guilt there. She expected to see shock. She might have even expected to see some form of shame on the woman's face. But the one thing she hadn't counted on was the blind fury she found instead.

"You are unbelievable!" she snarled.

Ginny was actually taken aback by Hermione's anger and even instinctually inched away from her without realizing it.

"Excuse m-me?" she stammered nervously.

Hermione stood up and towered over Ginny. Her hands were balled into fists.

"If this is some kind of a sick joke-"

"Do I appear to be laughing?"

Ginny jumped up as well and by now was matching Hermione angry glare for angry glare. Her patience was wearing thin and Hermione was this close to meeting the business end of a Bat Bogey. Ginny even made a mental check of which pocket of her robes her wand was in.

"OF ALL PEOPLE!" Hermione shouted as she turned her back to Ginny. She marched across the room as though trying to put as much distance as she could between Ginny and herself. "Of all people…" she said again stopping near the fireplace. "You have some nerve! To even suggest that Harry would-"

"Do you think I want to believe it?" countered Ginny, eyes gleaming brightly with anger. The sanctimony was rolling off of Hermione in thick waves and Ginny was choking on it. Just who in the hell did Hermione think she was yelling at her like this, Ginny fumed. Here she was, the poor wronged victim, yet Hermione was talking to her as though she were the villain in all of this.

"Do you think I want to come to you, especially given our history?" Ginny asked, seething.

"Why did you come to me?"

"Because this concerns you too," Ginny replied.

Hermione's jaw dropped. Puffing herself up, she self-righteously sneered, "If you mean to accuse me of-"

"Accuse you? What?" Ginny paused to look at the woman, confused as to what she could have possibly said to cause Hermione to react so indignantly.

A little too indignantly if you ask me, thought Ginny.

"All I said is that this concerns you too," she repeated.

Then, as though a lantern had suddenly been lit over her head, she realized the conclusion Hermione had drawn from her remark.

"You think that I mean that you and Harry…"

Ginny couldn't even continue; it was just all too absurd. Words actually failed her for a moment.

"No, of course not!" she scoffed finally.

"Oh," Hermione said meekly as color flooded her cheeks.

Feeling suddenly drained, Ginny dropped back down on the sofa. Taking a cue from her, Hermione seated herself in the leather recliner nearby and eyed her warily.

"Months ago I started seeing the signs that Harry was possibly straying. I tried to pretend that it wasn't happening. For the sake of my marriage I can't do that any longer," Ginny told her.

She left out the more painful details; Harry's dreams, her lonely nights, the box she had stashed under her bed filled with "personal aids" ordered from the Wanton Witch Emporium. It was already embarrassing to have to tell Hermione this much, Ginny saw no point in adding in all of the more sordid details. Besides, she didn't want to give Hermione too much to lord over her later.

"Something is definitely going on now," she continued. She then looked Hermione straight in the eye. "And I think you know something about it."

There! She had finally put it out in the open. She wanted to see Hermione try to deny that! However once again Ginny didn't get the response she was quite expecting.

With a roll of her eyes Hermione leaned back in her chair.

"What I know is that you are probably paranoid over some creation of your own imagining," a bored sounding Hermione tutted.

That did it! Forget the wand, the denigrating tone that Hermione took with her made Ginny want to slash at her face with her own nails.

"I AM NOT IMAGINING THIS!" she snapped causing Hermione to sit up straight and really look at Ginny. By now Ginny no longer cared about retaining a cool, calm façade. She was sick of being belittled. She was sick of being lied too. She was just sick of it all! She no longer cared what Hermione thought of her, she was getting desperate now.

"Harry barely is home anymore."

"He's working on a big case. He's Ron's Best Man. He has been helping me around this old place," said Hermione as she counted each answer off on her fingers. "He's busy Ginny, no cause for alarm."

"He's hiding something," countered Ginny.

That one made Hermione pause. She scrambled to cover the silence quickly.

"Harry has always been a little secretive."

"I can practically smell the guilt on him," Ginny said pressing on.

"Now that's just absurd! I've never heard such groundless accusations in all my-"

Ginny sat up, spine ramrod straight, and slammed her small fist down on her thigh.

"TTHEY ARE NOT ABSURD! THEY ARE NOT GROUNDLESS! THEY ARE NOT! THEY ARE NOT! THEY ARE NOT!" she yelled over and over again at the top of her voice.

Hermione was made speechless by Ginny's tirade.

"Do you know that there are times that my head pounds so badly that it makes me dizzy? I can barely see straight. Oh, unless you count the toilet," Ginny said smiling darkly. "I always have a good view of that seeing as how I'm constantly bent over it these days."

Hermione looked at Ginny askance. "And you think that it's the Blood bond that is causing it, don't you?" she asked.

Ginny disgustedly answered back, "What else could it be?"

"Goodness Ginny, anything but that!" Hermione said admonishingly.

Once again she left her seat to pace back and forth.

"I mean, did you ever stop to think th-that…that perhaps you and Harry were going to have a baby? Wooziness, headaches, morning sickness…sounds like the early stages of a pregnancy to me," she said, purposefully averting her eyes so that Ginny didn't see the envy in them.

Ginny snorted as though Hermione had told a whopper. Hermione stopped her pacing and bewilderedly turned towards her.

"Harry would actually have to touch me to make that one happen and he hasn't done so in months. Yes, months," she responded to Hermione's mute astonishment. "Satisfied now?" she asked. "Is that enough proof for you now?"

Ginny could tell that she had knocked Hermione for a loop, but she still bravely soldiered on. One thing Ginny would always give Hermione was that she was loyal; almost to a fault.

"Harry would never do something like that," she insisted. "I'm sure that there are reasonable explanations for everything."

"Other than the obvious ones? Stop patronizing me Hermione! And stop pretending that you don't know what I'm talking about. You know! I know you know! Now what I need from you is to tell me who this woman is."

"Who she is? Who she is? I don't even think she exists!"

"Drop the act already! Stop covering for him."

"What would make you think I would cover for Harry?" Hermione asked perplexedly.

"Because you would do anything to protect him, even lie if you had to. But mostly because it would hurt me!"

Hermione raised her hands before her.

"Whoa! Ginny, I'm not going to try to pretend that you and I don't have our issues. But believe me or not, I would take no joy out of seeing your marriage to Harry fail. And if Harry is cheating on you, and trust me I have a hard time believing that he ever would, I swear to you that I know nothing about it!"

For a moment Ginny stared at the sincerity etched across Hermione's face. Although she hated to believe it, something in her tone told Ginny that Hermione just might be telling the truth.

"Honestly?" she asked.

"Yes," Hermione steadfastly replied.

Ginny fell back against the sofa dejectedly. It was like the wind had been let out of her sails. She had been so sure that Hermione knew what was going on. That was why she had come all the way out to the Hollow. That was why she had coaxed and cajoled and nearly bullied Hermione into this so-called confrontation. She had been so sure…

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Ginny wailed pitifully to herself.

She closed her eyes hoping to halt any tears.

"We were supposed to live happily ever after. That was how it was supposed to be! And now something is trying to take it all away from me. I just know it! It's like the answer is staring me right in the face. I can practically touch it."

A warm hand wrapped around one of hers. Ginny opened her watery eyes to find Hermione sitting next to her.

"I'm sorry?" she offered kindly. "I know that sounds terribly inadequate, but I am. I wish there was something more I could say, something more I could do. Listen Ginny, this sounds like nothing more than some misunderstanding that only needs to be cleared up. You and Harry have all of your lives to work through whatever this is you two are going through. You just have to believe that Harry loves you."

Ginny childishly sniffed. "Does he?"

Hermione looked at her in wonder.

"Doesn't he?"

Ginny honestly could not bring herself to answer the question. Instead she held on tighter to Hermione's hand. For some reason it felt comforting.

"This feels familiar," she said looking down at their two clasped hands. Hermione needed no explanation; she knew exactly what Ginny was talking about. Maybe she had been having similar thoughts.

"It should," she said smiling sadly. "We were friends once. At least…"

The smile slowly faded.

"At least I thought we were friends. Then you started pushing me away. It felt like you didn't need me anymore. It felt like I had outlived my usefulness."

"So it's my fault then?" Ginny sniped angrily. She ignored the ring of truth in Hermione's words and the slight pang of guilt they caused. "When you came back from the war Hermione you were a different person. You're the one who changed. And for the record; you started pulling away from me first."

Ginny was speaking honestly, at least from her point of view. There were times back then that Hermione acted as though she didn't want to be bothered with the younger girl any more, as though it pained her to be near her even. She started slowly withdrawing from Ginny. The rare times they were around each other were if Harry or Ron were present, or if Hermione came by the Burrow. They completely stopped confiding in one another. At the time it had hurt a bit, Hermione had been the closest thing she had to a sister, but Ginny chose to focus on what was important instead; Harry. She had gotten what she wanted; Hermione had become superfluous by that point anyway.

"Perhaps…" began Hermione sounding uncertain, "perhaps we both share the blame."

"Perhaps," said Ginny sulkily although they continued to hold hands. "Do you think we could ever be friends again?" she queried.

The question seemed to surprise Hermione.

"I think we've both said and done enough things to each other that would make that pretty impossible." Cocking her head to the side she asked, "Would you even want to be friends again?"

Giving no clear indication how she felt on the subject, Ginny answered a quick, "Maybe."

By this point a new idea was starting to emerge in Ginny's mind and the prospect of getting Hermione to go along with it was looking promising. Ginny might be able to salvage something out of this little heart-to-heart after all.

"Hermione, can I ask you something?" After Hermione nodded her head Ginny asked, "Has Harry mentioned anything to you? About our marriage, I mean. Has he given you any indication that there is something wrong between us?"

Hermione quickly dropped Ginny's hand.

"I think Harry is the person you should be discussing this with," she answered noncommittally while turning her whole body in order to avoid the redhead's eyes.

Dear Merlin, she does know something. And it's not good, Ginny fretted. If Ginny needed any further proof to that line of reasoning, the way that Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip was answer enough. But Ginny refused to give up defeat just yet, especially now that it was clear that despite their shared differences, Hermione still cared for her. Maybe there was still enough goodwill left between them that Hermione might grant Ginny a small favor, a kindness really. Why, if she could only make Hermione see things her way, maybe the two of them could even be friends again. All past hurts and slights could be glossed over.

"He said something, didn't he?" Ginny asked.

Hermione gave no answer; just stared down at her lap.

"Sweet Circe! What am I going to do, Hermione? Please tell me what to do."

"I tried to give you advice once before, remember? You didn't want it then," Hermione said shaking her head.

"But I'm asking for it now!" she exclaimed.

Yes, now Hermione could make all the difference. Hermione could talk to Harry for her. Hermione could get Harry to confess. Hermione could make Harry drop his slut and turn back to his loving wife. And Ginny would be loving, and kind, and understanding and all of those things plus more. She would also be benevolent and forgive Harry for everything that he had put her through these past few months; never let it be said that Ginny could not be the bigger person. Then they would fix this mess. They had to fix it! Harry was bonded to her for life, it was his only option.

Well, that and death.

"Ginny, have you listened to a word I said?"

At the far away sound of Hermione's voice, the fog in Ginny's mind suddenly ceased its swirling motion and seemed to stretch itself through every nook and crevice it could find. She shook her head as if to loosen it from its hiding places. Her clouded eyes turned to Hermione and noted that the woman looked worried, disturbed even. Then again Ginny might have worn the same troubled visage too if she had seen the eerie, dreamlike expression that Hermione had just witnessed.

Stifling a shudder, Hermione tried again.

"Ginny, you need to talk to Harry. You two can work this out. All you have to do is talk to him."

"Or you could talk to him," Ginny suggested. The coy way in which she said it was meant to hide the guile of her words.

Hermione's eyes bulged. "You can't be serious?!"

"Harry would listen to you," she continued. "Oh Hermione, don't you see?! That would solve everything! You could just-"

"No."

Her voice was just above a whisper. Ginny reached for her hand.

"But Hermione-"

"I said no!" Hermione said, drawing back from Ginny's grasp.

Ginny frowned at her.

"But you said you wanted to help," she whinged.

"I said I wish I could help. But what you're suggesting...NO!"

"But I need you, Hermione!"

Didn't Hermione see that she needed her? Why was she being so difficult?!

"Ginny, I don't want to be in the middle of your marriage."

"BUT YOU ARE!" Ginny barked viciously, finally losing her patience at last. "YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN! Even before Harry and I got married, you were in the middle! When Harry needed advice who did he turn to? You! Whose opinion was he always after? Yours! I didn't even know about the Prophesy until well after the fact. But he told you."

"And Ron! He told me and Ron! You seem to have conveniently forgotten that part. Don't try to twist things just so you can have your own way again!"

Ginny ignored the reproach.

"Harry was my boyfriend, but the three of you decided to keep the fact that he might die from me. You shut me out! You were always trying to shut me out, Hermione!"

Ginny didn't even care if she wasn't being fair. Her confidence was shot, her nerves were frayed, and it was all Hermione's fault as far as she was concerned. Everything was Hermione's fault!

"Are you even listening to yourself? Harry made the decision to keep you in the dark. You know that," Hermione said trying to reason with her.

Ginny was having none of it. She stood up from her seat and glared down at Hermione.

"But you were supposed to be my friend. You should have told me. If you were really my friend you would have told me. Just like if you were really my friend you would help me now."

"My God! You are doing it again, Ginny. I can't believe you are trying to do this to me again! You think that if you twist things up enough you can get me to do whatever you want me to do, but not this time. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

"What the bollocks does that mean?" she asked snidely.

"It means that you're on your own, Ginny. I can't help you."

"Do you mean you can't help me or you won't help me?"

Hermione studied Ginny's face; her glittering eyes, her mutinous chin, the flaring nostrils, and she unhappily shook her head.

"Ginny, even if I could help you I don't think I would want to," she answered truthfully.

"I see," Ginny said in a tight, strained voice.

She then turned her back to Hermione.

"You selfish, controlling bitch," she muttered nastily.

Hermione chuckled humorlessly at the insult.

"And here I thought we were going to be the best of friends again," she said.

Ginny refused to look at her, but Hermione kept talking.

"Although you know what's funny? The last time you and I talked it went a lot like this as well. You were so cruel to me," she added, almost to herself.

Ginny wasn't sure if she was speaking for her benefit or if she was simply babbling. She did know that there was nothing more she wanted in that moment than to strike back out at Hermione; hurt her like she was hurting.

"You deserved it," Ginny replied, her voice hard and cruel. "You were being a selfish and controlling bitch back then too."

"And as I recall you said something to that effect as well," Hermione snickered archly. "Just tell me one thing Ginny..."

Ginny turned around and their eyes held.

"Was I just a means to an end for you? I mean after all is said and done, the two of us, was that all I ever was...a means to an end?"

Ginny stared at Hermione; at this woman before her who Ginny had known for more than half her life. Moments, flashes of memory invaded her mind nearly clouding all else.

Giggling over a surprising invitation to a dance…

Modeling dress robes for each other before the Ball…

Running to spill about finally being kissed…

Laughing together at the silly quiz in the back of Witch Weekly…

Crying on a shoulder after visiting dad at Mungo's…

Holding a hand as a secret crush remained hopelessly a secret…

If she tried hard enough Ginny could almost make herself believe that it had all been another lifetime ago; another life ago.

"Yes," Ginny said tilting her nose up superiorly at Hermione, "that's all you ever were," she lied coolly.

Hermione unflinchingly held Ginny's gaze.

"Thank you," she said. "I always thought that…I just couldn't be sure. But now I know." Hermione's eyes fell on her intertwined fingers that were resting in her lap. "Now I know," she softly repeated.

Hermione stood up.

"Thank you."

Hermione casually strolled to the front door, opened it, then turned back to face Ginny.

"Now get the hell out of my house!"

Ginny whirled around, shocked to hear Hermione speak to her in such a cold, unfeeling manner.

"Y-your house?" she stammered out.

"You heard me. I have things to do and I've wasted enough time that I'll never get back on you already."

"YOU CAN'T JUST THROW ME OUT OF HERE!" Ginny shouted, stomping over to the door.

Even though Hermione was a few inches taller, Ginny stood toe to toe with her.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Oddly enough I think I can."

"THIS IS MY HUSBAND'S HOUSE THEREFORE IT BELONGS TO ME!" Ginny yelled. "YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T TOSS YOU OUT ON YOUR EAR."

"I'd like to see you try."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. She bent her head so close to Ginny's that she could feel her warm breath tickle at her nose. The only thing Ginny could see in her field of vision was wrathful brown eyes.

"You see Ginny, this house belongs to Harry. Harry. He's the one who decides who stays and who goes. Now it just so happens that Harry wants me here. As long as that's the case, I'm not going anywhere and there is no one who can make me, even you."

She then smirked.

"Especially you."

Pointing outside, Hermione gave Ginny a poisonous smile.

"I would appreciate it if you left now."

Fuming, Ginny turned to walk out the door, but her feet wouldn't budge. Her pride would not allow her to just leave Hermione looking so smug, so self-satisfied without trying to land at least one last parting blow.

"I get it. I know the real reason why you won't help me."

Apprehension stole over Hermione's face so fast that had Ginny blinked she would have missed it.

Ginny didn't blink.

Before the neutral mask could fall in place, Ginny saw the fear that had alighted in the woman's eyes. Saw it, savored it; would have broken it open to drink the marrow from it down if she could. If Hermione thought she could talk to her just any kind of way, she had another thing coming. She was better than that, she was better than her! She was Ginevra Potter.

"You are a sad, pathetic woman, Hermione, and you want everyone to be just as miserable as you are. It won't work, though. Harry and I might be having some difficulties right now, but we'll get through them. And afterwards we'll be better and stronger than before; I'll make sure of it. So you were right, I don't need you anymore. Coming here was just a waste of my time. You were a waste of my time. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm not alone in that thought. Isn't it ironic that Roger Davies, Oliver, and my brother all started to live happy lives once they got the hell away from you? Davies has a wonderful wife and child. Ron and Oliver are both engaged. And where is Hermione? All alone. You're probably going to die that way too. I could almost pity you. Almost."

She wanted to hurt Hermione. She wanted to maim her. Ginny wanted to tear her down, if only with her words. She wanted Hermione to know just what it meant to be as unhappy as she was. But the wench refused to take the bait.

"You must have been biting your tongue for weeks to keep from spewing all of that at me until now," Hermione replied in an unnaturally calm voice. It pricked at Ginny's skin; it was so hard and brittle. It was as if Ginny's words had no effect on Hermione at all. They slid off her as easily as oil. "So tell me something Gin, did it make you feel better?" she asked, a note of false concern coloring her words.

Ginny glared at her hatefully. She was boiling!

"Huh, did it? Did it?!" Hermione continued to taunt vilely. When Ginny remained quiet Hermione smirked haughtily. "I thought not. Now get out!" she ordered through clenched teeth, her voice only trembling on the very last word.

Ginny stalked outside the house, gnashing her teeth to stop herself from calling Hermione every dirty name she knew. Just as she crossed the threshold she felt the swish of escaping air hit her back as the door slammed shut. The shot gun crack sound startled her and made her seize up rigidly as though she had been hit by a curse. Almost stumbling forward, Ginny whipped around to see the closed door almost rock in its hinges from the force of Hermione's rage.

Ginny was miserable. But worse than that, she felt defeated. The morning was a bust, nothing had been accomplished, and now she had made an enemy of someone who had once been invaluable to her. Of this Ginny was certain. She had just watched the last vestiges of their already fragile relationship go through its final death throe. Did she feel remorse, any regret over the way things had turned out? She wouldn't have known. The bitterness blackened everything until that was all Ginny knew. If there was any justice in this world Hermione Granger would be sharing some of the same.

Ginny was about to Disapparate when her ears picked up a barely detectable sound in the still morning air. Her head swiveled back and forth trying to place where it was coming from but she couldn't see anything that could be causing it. Then her eyes fell back on the cottage door. Instinct drove Ginny to tiptoe closer to it and put her ear to the wood. Although there was very little increase in volume, Ginny realized that whatever was making the almost keening noise was on the other side of the door.

Ginny stepped back a few paces keeping her eyes trained forward. All thoughts of leaving vanished as her curiosity got the better of her. Ginny reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand.

"Roentgenesco," she softly intoned.

The wooden, opaque material of the door instantly took on a translucent property revealing the inside of the house. It also revealed the figure of the person who had taught Ginny so very long ago the very charm she was using. Hermione's lower back was pressed up against the now see-through door. She was sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up, arms encircling them. She was hunched over so that her face was hidden in the small valley between her chest and lap. Her desolate sobbing was muffled because of this, but by the violent way her shoulders jerked and trembled, it wouldn't have been that difficult to figure out what she was doing. Her weeping sounded like that of a wounded, beaten animal.

"Finite Incantatum," Ginny whispered.

The door returned to normal. She lowered her wand and prepared to Apparate back to the Palace feeling at least a little less wretched than she had mere minutes before.

"All better now," she said to herself, then winked out of sight.

"Neesom?"

"Newsom."

"No…no, that's not it. That's not it at all! It was Newman."

"I don't think so. Oh! I've got it, Neiman!"

"Now that's just ridiculous. Who ever heard of such a ridiculous name? It was Needleman. It was without a doubt Needleman."

"I don't know Ron; I don't think that's quite it either. Needleman...Needleman...Needleman..."

"I zeenk zat you boys mean Needlemeier."

Ron and Harry looked at each other across Ginny and Lavender, both male sets of eyes growing wide.

"NEEDLEMEIER!!!" they both cried out triumphantly.

"Bernadette, I swear I would kiss you if I didn't think my wife would lean over and snap my neck in two," Harry said jokingly to the brown haired woman by Charlie's side.

"She'd do it too!" George helpfully added, eyes twinkling merrily.

"Mean little thing, she is-OW!"

Everyone at the table laughed except for Fred. He was gawking at his little sister in shock and rubbing at the tender spot on the back of his head where she had reached over her husband and his wife to smack him on. Ginny tittered along with everyone else although she was nowhere near in as jovial a mood as the rest of the table's occupants, especially after Charlie's date started to slaver all over her husband shamelessly.

"Monsieur Potter, you are quite ze charmer," Bernadette said in a sticky sweet voice. Ginny glared at her, but the dumb bint didn't seem to translate the message; back off! Damned French women, she'd drown the lot of them if she could!

"So Ron," George said turning to look at his brother who was sitting next to him, "have you finally decided on who you're placing your bet on?"

"I can't believe you two wankers are actually running a betting pool on what poor bloke Hermione is going to show up here with tonight," remarked Charlie turning to look at him. He was smiling though so he seemed to think the whole thing humorous.

"I don't see the harm in it," Fred told him. "It's free enterprise."

"It's unethical, is what it is," Charlie volleyed back.

"Oh, it's that too," Fred said, grinning roguishly. Glinda, sitting to the right of him, began to chuckle.

"So ickle Ronniekins," he continued, "is it going to be Needlemeier?"

Chewing his lip contemplatively, Ron looked at his best friend and asked, "What do you think, Harry? I always did suspect that Hermione fancied old Needledick from the Misuse Office."

"Oh no, when Hermione finds out about this I want my hands to be completely clean," said Harry. "And fancied is an awful strong word, in'it?!" he countered curtly.

"She was always talking that berk up," said Ron ignoring him. "It was Cyril, this and Mr. Needlemeier, that."

Ron smacked his lips in disgust.

"'Cyril is on the Committee to Preserve House-elf Historical Habitats'," Ron said mockingly in a high pitched, snooty voice. "And 'Cyril is going to tie himself to a tree until all non-human sentient beings can get hitched the same as us, what are you planning to do productive with your day Ron'." He even added the fitting little self-righteous sniff at the end.

The entire table laughed wholeheartedly. Over the years Ron had perfected his Hermione impersonation.

"Blimey, was it so wrong that a bloke just wanted to stay in his boxers and listen to the wireless on a Sunday?"

Lavender put her arms around Ron and adoringly cooed that of course there was noting wrong with that.

"Well, I don't zeenk zat Cyril will be showing up 'ere tonight,"

"Why," asked Glinda, "still tied to that tree?"

Charlie and Fred hooted loudly.

"Mais non," said Bernadette, "Cyril eez ...eez a...'ow do you say," she turned to Charlie, "...est-un loup-garou."

Ron's freckled face frowned at the woman.

"A lu-lu wha-?"

"Werewolf, Ron," answered Charlie raising his glass to his mouth.

Harry nodded his head. "Oh that's right," he said.

"Well why didn't she just say that?!" said Ron argumentatively. No one paid him a whit of attention.

"There's a full moon out tonight. Tonks mentioned it to me when I ran into her earlier today," said Harry. "She said that Remus had been acting particularly feral this morning."

Harry winced slightly.

"I didn't ask for too many details. She didn't seem too fussed that they were going to miss out tonight, though."

"Well if Ron doesn't hurry it up he's going to miss out on his chance to get in on the winnings," muttered Fred. "We can't hold the window open much longer, the dancing is about to begin. Blondie could show up any minute."

Lavender whispered in Ginny's ear, "Maybe the hag will do us all a favor and stay home."

Although Ginny didn't say it aloud, she had the same hopes as Lavender. After their little "visit" that day Ginny hoped never to lay eyes on the woman ever again, especially not tonight. As the hours went by, Ginny was starting to think that she might just be that lucky. It was nearing nine o'clock, the band was warming up, and Hermione was nowhere in sight.

At least one good thing has come out of this night, thought Ginny bitterly.

If anyone else had been able to hear Ginny's bleak thoughts they would have had to disagree with her. So far the Victory Ball had been a rousing success for its planners. Attendance looked to be at an all time high, the wizarding elite were all decked out in their finest robes and accouterments, and the mood in the room was gay and rollicking.

Every year since the Ball's inception the Hogwarts Head Boy and Girl, working along side a representative from the Ministry, would organize the event and the Seventh Year class would decorate the Great Hall where it was held. This year it was fixed up to resemble a lavish Henrician banquet fully equipped with jugglers, ghostly jousters, and a court jester or two. There was also a strolling minstrel who canvassed the floor singing songs in praise of any man's bravery or any woman's beauty as long as he was tipped accordingly. The students had even arranged to put on a bugbear bating demonstration, but Headmistress McGonagall put a nix to that idea as soon as she got wind of it.

Nearly fifty ornately decorated round tables, that sat ten guests a piece, faced a long table on one side of the room where the Minister, his specially selected guests, as well as the Hogwarts faculty would dine. A polished dance floor took up the other half of the room and ended in a grand bandstand where Incantato Buchignani and his band would perform.

Through out the evening murmurings that this was the best the Great Hall had looked in ages could be heard. All of the Seventh Years were pleased to hear the compliments; the need to throw an excellent party was always important to the students since they actually got to attend the party. It was sort of a coming out for the 17 and 18 year olds so that they could mix and mingle with the adult society they would soon be joining within a matter of weeks. Ginny knew just how much hard work went into planning the event. The year after Voldemort's defeat it fell on her as Head Girl to orchestrate the very first official Ball. It was an honor that Ginny took very seriously; Harry was her boyfriend and even if he refused to acknowledge it, in her mind the Victory Ball was as much about Harry as it was about Voldemort.

That night the Ball had gotten underway under embarrassing circumstances. Rufus Scrimgeour's opening speech before dinner was cut short due to someone switching his goblet of meade for one filled with Lancelot's Limerick Liqueur. Before he could come to the scandalous conclusion of his story concerning a saucy sorceress from Kent, his Deputy Minister, Tarquin Adair, hustled him from the lectern and back to his seat so he could not cause himself or the Ministry any further damage. Luckily for the twins, their mother had been sitting at a separate table with her husband, Bill, Fleur, Percy, and Penelope as well as a few other Ministry personnel. Fred and George both pretended not to notice the crabbed looks she shot them across the room.

After Adair took Scrimgeour's place at the stand, he proceeded to give a short, yet heartfelt speech of his own that was so moving that almost every woman in the Hall wiped tears from her eyes during it and five minutes of uninterrupted applause followed its conclusion. After that the food was served and once the desert course was finished, the guests began visiting back and forth between tables.

Ginny's table was the most raucous. Between the twins antics, Glinda's teasing, and the corny jokes being told by Harry and Ron, their section of the Hall was loud with laughter. Even Pristine, George's date, looked like she was having fun, although she did appear to be overwhelmed by the boisterous group from time to time. She probably would have liked it if George paid a little more attention to her as well, but he was too busy.

Due to Fred and George's betting pool there was a steady stream of visitors to their section of the room. Through out the evening Ernie Macmillan, Terry Boot, Katie Bell, amongst others stopped by to place a few last minute bets and Padma Thomas had to drag Dean and Seamus away by their ears to get them to go back to their seats. Lavender had already filled Ginny in on the scam the twins were running earlier when the two of them had gone to the restroom together. Fred and George would get a thirty-five percent cut of the winner's take from their pool, even if the pot was split amongst multiple winners. They deemed that only fair since they organized it. What wasn't fair was the fact that if no one guessed who Hermione's mystery escort was; all of the money went directly into their pockets. The two of them were in line to make a killing.

At one point Neville had stopped by on his way to his own table to say hello to everyone but left soon after, barely acknowledging Ginny. He didn't even tell her how nice she looked before he went. Neville always told her how nice she looked, but he acted as though he couldn't be bothered with her. It had hurt Ginny, but she had deserved the abuse. She had been particularly rude when his little ballerina bonbon greeted her cordially. Slag!

Besides that minor unpleasantness, everyone else was enjoying themselves. Everyone, that was except for Ginny. She was too busy glowering at every woman who had the nerve to speak to her husband in her presence and wondering just which witch it was he was bedding behind her back. Ginny made sure she knew where Cho Chang was in the room at any given moment and she nearly took a butter knife to Romilda Vane when the silly woman stopped by their table with Harry's superior officer, Commander Hanes, in tow.

To make matters worse, Harry didn't even have the decency to act guiltily in front of any of the women so that Ginny could figure out who his mistress was, just every so often she would find him looking expectantly towards the door. He just chuckled along with everyone as though he hadn't done a thing wrong. Bastard!

Harry's innocent act was driving her batty, Neville was treating her as though she had come down with a disfiguring case of dragon pox, and on top of all of that her quail had been dry. Ginny had enough troubles as it was; the last thing she needed was Hermione showing up. Ginny worried that Hermione would actually tell Harry about their conversation from that morning. But as the evening continued on its course the chances that Hermione would actually show her face become slim. Once the band began warming up Ginny started to think that Hermione Granger wouldn't be a problem after all. Ginny decided to put the nuisance out of her thoughts completely so she could enjoy the rest of her night.

Ginny only wished that everyone else would shut the hell up about her too so that she could actually do just that.

"She probably doesn't even have a date, you know," Lavender continued to say to Ginny, a bit too loudly that time.

"Come again?" asked Harry looking between Ginny and Lavender. Ron's attention was also drawn to them.

Lavender looked back and forth between the two men as though she had stepped into a chimaera trap and had no idea how to chew herself out of it. Poor dumb Lav! As always it fell to Ginny to save the situation.

"Lavender was just saying that perhaps Hermione's date had to cancel at the last minute and Hermione just decided to stay in," Ginny answered smoothly as she ran her finger along the edge of her empty wineglass. "If she isn't here by now I highly doubt that she will show at all."

"She'll show," said Ron knowingly. "I'm not falling for that one again. The last Ball I was sure that Hermione was bluffing about was the Yule. And we all know how that turned ou-MERLIN'S BEARD! That's it!"

Ron's eyes went big as he began bouncing around excitedly in his seat.

"Krum! It's got to be Krum!"

Harry looked at Ron skeptically.

"Viktor Krum?"

"Of course that's it! Hermione would think it was a grand joke to pull on all of us-"

Lavender looked at her fiancé worriedly.

"Uh...Ron-"

"Not now, Lav," he said. He was gaining steam now. "Has anyone put in for Krum?" he asked George. Fred took out a list from his pocket that contained all of the names of those who were taking part in the pool, as well as the names they placed their bets on. After scanning the list quickly and lowering the parchment, Fred gave a brief nod of his head to his twin across the table.

"Looks like today is your lucky day, baby brother," George replied with a grin.

"You appear to be the first," said Fred.

Ron wore a broad, pleased smile. Meanwhile Charlie, Bernadette, Pristine, and George, who all had a good view of the door from where they were sitting, suddenly became very interested in some sight in that direction.

"Ha! Ten galleons then on Viktor Krum," Ron said as he pulled a money bag out of his robes and threw some coins from it onto the table.

Lavender looked alarmed at this.

"But Ron-" she tried again.

"NOT NOW, LAV!" he said brushing her off again.

Lavender tried desperately to get Ron's attention, but he turned in his chair to look at George excitedly. George quickly brought his attention to his brother. Ginny sighed loudly as she watched the events unfold before her. Knowing her brothers, this wasn't going to end well.

"Is Krum your final answer?" asked George archly.

"Yes, yes you git! Now take my money!"

George flashed him a wicked smile.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," he said as he scooped Ron's galleons off of the table. "Oh by the way, Viktor Krum just waved hello to you lot from the door."

"WHAT?!"

Ron whipped around in his seat so forcefully that he almost fell out of it. Luckily Lavender put out a steadying hand to hold him up.

By now their whole table was looking towards the entrance. As each guest for the Ball entered the Great Hall, they would pause a moment at the door to allow their pictures to be taken by various representatives from the media. Viktor Krum and the rather burly young woman next to him were just finishing up with the press and were making a beeline for their table.

"Who is that with him?" asked Harry aloud.

"His new girlfriend, Ljuba Emanuilova," Pristine said as she flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder and shamelessly batted her eyes flirtatiously at him. Ginny shot her a nasty look that made the woman gulp loudly.

"Oh, I've heard of her," said Charlie. "She's been hired to be the new Beater for the Vultures, right? She's uh...er...a very handsome woman," he added tactfully.

"Yes, and her mustache is very neatly trimmed," quipped Glinda.

Ron wasn't too concerned with this. His mind was on his ten galleons.

"KRUM HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!" he yelled. "KRUM HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!" he bellowed even louder than before when no one answered him the first time. He looked wildly at all of their faces. "WHO HERE KNEW THAT VICTOR KRUM HAD A GIRLFRIEND?!!" he demanded.

Ginny, Lavender, Pristine, Bernadette, and even Glinda raised their hands hesitantly. Ron seemed to be most offended by Lavender's apparent "betrayal".

"LAV!"

"Luv, I tried to tell you but you just wouldn't listen!"

"You prats!" Ron fumed looking back and forth between George and Fred. "You let me make that sucker's bet when you knew I'd lose. I demand my money back!"

George shook his head. "Sorry, no refunds."

"But I'm your brother!"

Fred wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye.

"Breaks your heart, doesn't it?"

Despite Ron's raging indignation, even Ginny couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Good effening Veasleys...Harry," said a voice in a thick accent. Ginny turned to find Krum and his girlfriend standing behind her. Everyone turned to look at them as well. "Ladies, you all look loffly," he said as his eyes roved around the table and paused on each woman just long enough to bring a faint blush to each of their cheeks. Pristine simpered like a little bitch in heat, and even Lavender and Glinda smiled broadly at him. Ginny had to admit it; Viktor Krum might walk like a duck, have a uni-brow, and be unintelligible under the best of circumstances, but he sure had sex appeal to spare. Physical being, indeed!

"But vere is our Hermy-own-ninny?" he asked.

He also was dead annoying.

"OH STUFF A BEATERS BAT UP IT!" snapped Ron scowling at him. "C'MON, LAV!" he barked, grabbing her hand and yanking her out of her chair. The two of them marched onto the dance floor that was starting to fill as Buchignani's Belltones began to play and Incantato began to sing.

Everyone stared after the retreating couple.

"Vas it something I said?"

Fred smiled into the confused looking Bulgarian's face.

"Nah. Just a business transaction of his went south," he joked.

Viktor stayed and chatted with Harry and the other men for a few minutes more before eventually leading his date towards the dancing. Charlie and Bernadette also went off in that direction. Pristine looked longingly at all of the couples swirling about, but George seemed content just sitting there and joking around with Fred. Glinda wasn't too fond of wizard music herself, it tended to give her a migraine. She said that she preferred the sedate blarings of an Ozzy Osbourne concert to it, whatever that meant. Glinda was happy to be sitting out.

Ginny, however, tapped her nails against the surface of the table barely noticing that they were matching the beat of the waltz-like music that was being played. She knew better than to expect Harry to voluntarily dance in front of other people, he was even embarrassed to dance with her the night of their wedding reception. She tried to be satisfied with the fact that he at least hadn't moved from her side all evening long.

"Well would you look at that!"

Ginny brought her attention to George. Seeing that his eyes were drawn to something just over her shoulder she turned to see what it was. Spotting a swath of yellow standing in the doorway; Ginny's bottom jaw nearly unhinged when she realized just who she was looking at.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" exclaimed Harry. He was staring that way as well and had unconsciously risen from his chair.

Glinda was cackling madly.

"God love her; she sure knows how to make an entrance!" she beamed.

The subject of their attention was Hermione. She was dressed in a soft butter yellow cocktail dress, and her hair was pinned atop her head in an artfully messy heap. But that wasn't what was causing stares and a near pile-up at the door. It was her date. Or rather dates, there was apparently two of them. Draco Malfoy and Luna stood on either side of Hermione with an arm linked through each of hers. He was wearing dapperly cut black robes trimmed in gray while Luna was dressed in bottle green.

The three of them looked fabulous and there was a crush of photographers trying to snap their picture. Malfoy appeared to be eating it all up while Luna barely acknowledged that the paparazzi were there at all. She waved at Ginny when she caught sight of her. Hermione was the only one who looked uncomfortable. She smiled stiffly and her escorts appeared to be supporting her weight. If Ginny didn't know any better, when the three of them started moving across the floor, it almost looked like Malfoy was dragging Hermione forward against her will. She looked like she was trying to dig her high heels into the carpet.

"What the hell is she doing here with him?!" growled Harry, glaring between Malfoy and Hermione as they slowly worked their way through the room; pausing every few steps to greet friends, former schoolmates, and acquaintances.

"Who cares?! All that matters is that the money is all ours!" cried Fred merrily. George made a loud whooping sound that seemed to perk up Pristine.

As Luna, Malfoy, and Hermione came near the table Harry motioned for Ginny to budge over a few seats. Ginny looked at him in disbelief for a moment before grudgingly complying. She scooted over to where Ron had been sitting next to George. Instead of thanking her though, Harry was too busy looking expectantly at Hermione, motioning to the chair next to him as he moved into the next seat. Ginny ground her teeth together so hard that she actually made her head throb. Her whole body tensed. Hermione sitting next to Harry was not a good idea. That would give them a chance to talk. That would give them a chance to talk about her. Thankfully Malfoy swooped in and took the offered seat.

"Why thank you, Potty," he said smirking. Harry just scowled at him.

"Hello everyone," Hermione said smiling nervously as she sat between Malfoy and Glinda and nodded her head around the table. She stopped short of Ginny and acted as though the redhead wasn't sitting there. Ginny returned the favor. Instead Ginny watched Luna perch herself in Malfoy's lap. The blond's arm wrapped around her hip possessively and Luna sighed into the embrace. Ginny rolled her eyes. Luna and Malfoy could really be disgusting sometimes. By the look on Pristine's face, Ginny could tell that she felt the same. It was puckered up as though she was sucking on a large, overly ripened lemon, but she nodded her head at the new arrivals and greeted them as cordially as she could.

"It looks like we almost missed the festivities," said Luna dreamily. "Sorry we're late."

"Why are you so late?" Harry asked Hermione staring directly at her. Ginny noticed that she and Malfoy shared a look before she turned to Harry and answered.

"I couldn't decide on what to wear," she said with a jittery laugh.

Glinda frowned.

"But Ducks, I thought you had already planned to wear that dre-OW! DID YOU JUST KICK ME?!"

Glinda was bent down rubbing at her ankle under the table and looking up at Hermione sorely. Hermione looked at her angelically.

"Oops. Sorry; foot slipped."

"Yes, we almost didn't make it," said Malfoy in a silkily casual voice. "Hermione had to be persuaded to come. For some reason or other she just couldn't be bothered showing up here tonight."

Ginny felt her skin crawl up her arms, as pale gray eyes raked over her and away.

"Thankfully my Loony Love and I convinced her to change her mind."

Harry, who hadn't moved his eyes away from Hermione since she had sat down, reached a hand out to hold hers as it rested on the table.

"What's wrong?" he asked concernedly.

"Nothing," said Hermione, pulling her hand out of his. Harry looked hurt at the action.

"So boys," said Luna looking back and forth between Fred and George, "I believe that you two have something for me."

Fred chuckled humorously.

"What, our condolences?" His eyes flickered over to Malfoy and back to her.

Malfoy glowered at him.

"No, my money," she answered him simply. When the twins, and everyone else for that matter, looked at her confusedly Luna continued by saying, "I won the pool."

Fred and George sat up straight at that.

"What are you talking about?!" asked Fred.

"You didn't place a bet!" added George.

"And Blondie didn't even come with a date!" they both said.

"Wait a minute, what pool?" asked Hermione curiously.

Glinda leaned over and whispered something in her ear. When she finished, Hermione leaned forward in her chair and furiously glared at the twins.

"Wankers!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah; fact still remains that you and Malfoy here don't count," said George to Luna. "Lovely, though you both are."

"By the way," said Glinda turning to Hermione, "why did you tell me you had a date?"

"I never said I had a date, you said I had a date. When you offered to set me up with someone I told you that you needn't bother because I already had plans," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "I had mentioned to Luna that you lot were probably going to try and set me up on a blind date just the day before. I told her that I didn't want to go to the Ball with some stuffed robe I barely knew. She suggested that I just come along with her and Draco. I took her up on the offer."

"You see!" argued Fred turning to Luna. "Blondie doesn't have a date."

"But we are her dates," said Luna. "And I placed a ten galleon wager on us. I sent it anonymously with lover's Pollux. Once you accepted my money the deal was made. Fair is fair boys and lover needs a new pair of Horntail hide boots."

"What name did you bet on?" asked Fred suspiciously.

"Roland Duanca," she told him.

Out of the corner of her eyes Ginny saw a curious expression form on Hermione's face.

Fred scanned the parchment in front of him trailing his index finger down the list. As his finger came to a stop, his eyes bulged and he looked up at George helplessly.

"Brother, we've been had!"

Hermione reached over and took the parchment from Fred. She quietly studied it as George began to bluster angrily.

"Well that means nothing! Neither of you is this Duanca bloke...whoever he his," he trailed off.

"Actually George, they are."

George and Fred both turned to look at Hermione. The whole table followed suit.

"It's an anagram," she said.

They both stared blankly at her. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"An anagram...you know? I am Lord Voldemort...Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"The letters are mixed around!" Ginny said excitedly finally figuring the puzzling situation out. She laughed out loud at Luna's ingeniousness.

"That's right!" said Hermione smiling brightly as she and Ginny's eyes met. Instantly their smiles dropped and they both turned their bodies in opposite directions so they wouldn't have to look at each other.

"Roland Duanca spells out Draco and Luna," continued Hermione.

The twins looked horrified at this revelation.

"Very good Hermione," said Luna. "I used Weasley Wheezes' Mix Around Back Around ink to write it out.

Fred and George began riffling through their pockets looking for all of the bets that people had sent by owl. They threw them onto the table and began going through the pile looking for Luna's.

"What's this Mix Around thing?" asked Hermione.

"Freddy came up with it," answered Glinda. "It's really big with the 12 to 13 witch-ette set. They use it to write all of their little secrets in their diaries. It's the Hogsmeade's WWW's top seller."

"The letters mix up and spell something differently unless the person who wrote it is present," added Harry.

It was at this point that Fred came across the parchment in question. He stood up from his seat. George also stood up.

"THIS THING HAS BEEN FIXED!" Fred shouted, throwing the paper at his twin.

"AND NOT BY US!" exclaimed George after taking a look at it.

Fred was so outraged that he could barely form a coherent sentence.

"OF ALL OF THE LOW DOWN…DIRTY ROTTEN…UNDERHANDED…DOUBLE DEALING…"

Glinda and Hermione giggled insanely. Harry looked equally amused.

"Luna played you two," he told them.

A look of adoration crossed Malfoy's face as he looked at the woman in his lap.

"Marry me!" he said.

Luna smiled at him lovingly.

"In due time," she said as she patted his cheek. Ginny felt nauseated.

"Well would you consider me?" asked George looking at Luna admiringly. "I think I'm in love."

"Get your own, Weasley!" Malfoy retorted, hugging Luna to him tighter.

Pristine, who had been quiet through all of this, finally lost her patience. George had basically ignored her all night and now, to add insult to injury, he was fawning all over Loony Lovegood. Apparently when it came to men Pristine Pringle was no competition for the spacey blonde.

"NOT AGAIN!" she shrieked before overturning her chair and running for the door. Eight sets of eyes watched her go.

"Is she on the rag?!" asked Malfoy crudely.

George only shrugged his shoulders before gamely chasing after his date. Ginny went to turn back in her seat when she realized that Hermione had been staring at her hatefully; for how long, Ginny wasn't sure. Her dark brown eyes practically bored a hole straight through Ginny's head. But the instant Harry went to say something to her; the look disappeared completely from off her face. Ginny almost wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. But then she saw the penetrating way Malfoy was watching Hermione and herself and Ginny knew she wasn't the only one who caught the moment.

"I feel like dancing," he suddenly said out of the blue. He gave Hermione a winning smile. "Pet, I believe you promised me a dance."

Hermione looked at him as though she didn't understand what he was saying.

"Dance?"

"Cut a rug, do a jig; trip the light fandango. Come along."

"But I don't want to dance right now," she said.

"But I insist. You don't mind, do you Loony Love?" he asked his girlfriend.

Luna got off of Malfoy's lap so that he could stand up.

"Of course not Lover, but be mindful if the band plays a mazurka. You know how Polish music gives you gas."

She kissed his cheek and sat down in his place.

"Yes dear," he said as his pale cheeks turned pink. "Now come along, Hermione," he said pulling the woman to her feet.

"She doesn't want to dance with you, Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth as he stood up as well.

"I don't believe I was talking to you Potter," Malfoy said dismissively, not even bothering to look at Harry at first.

"LISTEN FERRET-"

Malfoy swung around towards him. "NO, YOU LOOK HERE BANGS BOY-"

"YOU TWO KNOCK IT OFF!" Hermione railed shrilly at both men, glaring irately at the two of them. "IF IT WILL SHUT YOU UP DRACO, LET'S GO!" she yelled and stormed off towards the dance floor.

The blond smugly smiled at Harry before skipping after her.

As Ginny sighed in relief, she watched Malfoy and Hermione disappear onto the crowded dance floor. Some of the tension that had filled Ginny retreated. She felt that she was finally free to relax.

"Let's dance," said Harry tensely as he offered her a hand.

Well, there went that quickly.

Not that Ginny didn't want to dance with her husband; she was always happy to show him off she just hated the aggravated look on his face as he took her hand and hustled her quickly into the dancing throng.

They stopped just short of where Hermione and Malfoy were as Harry took her in his arm and began to awkwardly sway back and forth to the music. Under the best of circumstances Harry wasn't that good a dancer. With him trying to keep an eye on both his best friend and his partner, he was a disaster. Not that Ginny noticed much. She also watched the twosome.

The pair moved around the floor elegantly and was actually pretty good. They were so good in fact that one could almost ignore the pinched look on Hermione's face as Malfoy spoke to her in hushed undertones. Some intense words were being traded between the two of them, and by the hostile looks the blond jerk would shoot her every so often Ginny couldn't help but think that she was at the center of their discussion. Although she and Harry were just within earshot, only a few snippets of what was being said could actually be heard over the music.

"I said...out of it!"

"Not until...tell m...what she..."

"Nothing, I...you that already...Stay out of..."

Hermione wrenched from his hold. She gave Malfoy a dirty look in parting before stomping across the floor. She passed by Ginny and Harry but didn't acknowledge them; just kept her face turned towards the exit to the Entrance Hall.

Without saying a word, Harry dropped Ginny's arms and took off after her. For an instant Ginny could only stare after him, stunned. She quickly looked around to see if anyone had caught what had just happened, but all those dancing around Ginny were too busy to care. A very mild tension headache seemed to suddenly develop out of nowhere. She figured it was due to the press of the crowd and the deafening music. Ginny decided then that it was probably best to beat a retreat, maybe get a breath of fresh air until Harry came back.

Ginny ended up in the rose garden. Fairy lights fluttered about in the air and the music coming from the Hall sounded softer, dreamier to the ear. There were rose bushes, trees, and benches scattered about and nearly everywhere she looked she could see the dark figures of couples sitting close together or pressed clandestinely against the trunk of a tree.

The feel of the night air on Ginny's skin felt refreshing, though she was still bothered by the dull throb in her head. She heard the splashing of water nearby and followed the sound of it down a winding cobbled path, passed an array of large stone statues. The sight of water had always been soothing to Ginny. As a small child she spent as much of her time as she could in the pond behind the Burrow. When she was little, Ginny used to think there was nothing more beautiful than the sight of sunlight breaking across a glistening blue surface. Sometimes she would just sit in front of the pond and dream the day away.

After a short stroll the path came to an end near a white stone fountain. But the sight of it brought Ginny no peace. The sound of a sultry giggle filled Ginny with such an unwieldy disquiet that she felt almost as though the world had been ripped right from under her feet. She felt paralyzed, like she couldn't move. But move she did. Ginny scampered behind a large birch and only peeked from around it when she was sure that the couple hadn't spotted her.

"See," said Candide in a teasing voice, "I told you that you weren't hopeless."

"You are being entirely too kind," answered Neville. "You aren't even familiar with the music and yet you've gotten the hang of it easily. That doesn't say much for me I'm afraid."

"That's because dancing is in my blood. I could probably dance to a pennywhistle and a spoon if I had to."

Neville laughed.

"But you Neville Longbottom are definitely light on your feet."

"That's only because I'm heavy on your toes."

Candide cloyingly giggled.

Neville and the little ballerina bonbon were wrapped in each others arms dancing to the faint strains of music coming from the Hall. They looked for the entire world like two people in love.

In love?

No, thought Ginny savagely, it can't be! But those thoughts were useless really. Ginny had been a witness to the sad conclusions of all of Neville's few affairs. She had also seen the beginnings. Neville had never spoken to any of those women as tenderly as he was speaking to Candide. He had never held any of those women in his arms so protectively. He had never brushed their hair back and away from their face with such gentleness. He had never looked at another woman that way since...

Ginny felt herself grow enraged. How dare Neville be out here enjoying himself with that slag when her life was crumbling to bits? He was supposed to be her friend. He was supposed to care! But instead he was wasting his time away on some dumb Muggle bint who would only break his heart in the long run. Look at her, thought Ginny contemptuously as she eyed the kimono-ish dress robes Candide was wearing. She barely knew a wand from a stick up her arse a few months ago and now she was lapping this whole thing up! It was obvious that Candide was only using Neville; why else would she be bothered with him?

"Look at you," said Neville somehow managing to embrace the woman even tighter than before. "You are so graceful and poised," he smiled bashfully, "and I look like some bumbling puppy next to you."

Candide grinned. She moved a hand of hers into the tuft of brown hair at the nape of Neville's neck.

"I like puppies," she said sweetly.

Ginny thought that she would gag. Neville couldn't possibly be falling for this.

"I like you," he said sheepishly.

Ginny's nails practically tore into the bark of the tree.

Candide moved to rest her head against Neville's shoulder.

"I like you too. In fact, I think I like you a little too much. Don't think I'm crazy if I tell you this, but...I think I might be falling in love with you."

Ginny inhaled so sharply that it almost hurt. She actually felt like she had been physically kicked in the stomach. She was surprised to look down and discover that her legs hadn't given out from under her. Leave! Go now! Run! She knew that she shouldn't be watching this, she knew that she was about to see something that couldn't be taken back, but her limbs refused to move.

Neville pulled back to gaze into Candide's face. The moonlight, playing across her alabaster skin, made her look almost ethereal. He stared at her for what felt like an eternity.

"I don't think you crazy," Ginny heard him say.

Then, as she watched with dawning horror, Neville began to lower his head...

To Be Continued...

A/N: Next up in the conclusion of Chapter 18. Things to look forward to: a choice is made that effects the future, Candide shows herself to be perhaps a more formidable force than Ginny gave her credit for, and Draco and Mrs. Potter share a "special" dance. Look for fireworks and I don't mean the good kind.

A few more points of interest...

1) All characters other than Leontyne Scrimgeour, Apollodorus Midgen(Shunpike), Incantato Buchignani, Gavin Gibbons, Cyril Needlemeier, and Ljuba Emanuilova are canon.

2) "Harry, what are you doing?" is taken from pg.103 of GoF. Just making sure no suits come after me.

3) Although Eloise more than likely is in Hufflepuff house(according to the Lexicon), I made her a Gryff for the story.

4) 10 galleons equals out to about £50/$98.00

5) According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them an aethonon is a chestnut colored breed of winged horse. A (blood-sucking)bugbear is a magical creature, probably resembling a bear, that in legend ate naughty children.

6) Gavin Gibbons' Ghostly Troubadours, The Wanton Witch Emporium, the Committee to Preserve House-elf Historical Habitats, Lancelot's Limerick Liqueur, Buchignani's Belltones, and Mix Around Back Around ink are all original to this story.

Tell me if you like it. Tell me if you hate it. Just tell me something. Please review.