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Chapter Text

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but the extra commas are.

-The Hogwarts Express-

"Completely mental."

Harry looked up at Ron from his corner of the train compartment. Hermione Granger had just left after insulting Ron's magic skills, fixing Harry's glasses, and pointing out some dirt on Ron's nose.

Ron was now looking down at his rat. "It's a real spell! My brothers taught it to me and I've seen it work before."

Harry didn't think Hermione was mental, maybe just a little eccentric. He didn't tell Ron this, but given a choice between his cousin Dudley and the awkward, bushy-haired Know-It-All, he'd pick the latter for a friend in an instant.

"But she fixed my glasses," Harry pulled his glasses off to show Ron. "And I thought she was nice."

"She was nice to you! Maybe she likes you. You are Harry Potter after all."

Harry wondered if this was true. He was famous. Maybe everyone just wanted to be his friend for that reason. Hermione Granger didn't seem to be the type to care, though.

"Is that why you want to be my friend?"

"Nah I don't care that you're famous." Ron's face was now deep into a chocolate frog, and Harry believed him.

"Still. She's mental. I don't have dirt on my nose." Harry laughed to himself at Ron's mutterings. "It was probably chocolate."

"I don't think it matters what it was. Just wipe your face next time you see her," said Harry.

"So hopefully never."

Harry didn't feel the same way. He hoped to see Hermione again.

Eventually the train pulled to a stop. Ron reached forward for the door handle before quickly pulling his hand away to wipe his nose.

-Encounter with a Troll-

"Did you see the look on the troll's face when his bat levitated out of his hand?" Ron was grinning at Harry from across their dorm room. "I bet Hermione doesn't think I'm lousy at magic now!"

Harry laughed. "You were brilliant, but Hermione never thought you were lousy at magic."

"Sure she did. She made fun of me on the train remember- and in class she said I couldn't pronounce Wingardium Leviosa right. But look what I did! She would have been a goner if it weren't for me."

Harry sensed some sadness in his voice as he said that. "Well maybe you better thank her for teaching you how to say it right."

"She better thank me for saving her life."

Harry didn't point out that Ron was the reason she was in the bathroom with the troll in the first place.

They together silently, contemplating the day's events. Harry had always liked Hermione, even though he didn't show it, and he wondered if they would be friends now.

"She's not so bad, you know," said Ron, demonstrating similar thoughts.

"I know. She just annoys you. But she also taught you that spell."

"Such a know-it-all. Do you think she'll want to be friends now?"

Harry couldn't tell if Ron wanted Harry to answer any specific way. "Maybe. Do you want to be?"

Ron leaned back down onto his bed. "I dunno. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

Harry nodded. "Then we should be her friend."

"Good, she doesn't have anyone else. She needs us." Ron smiled to himself.

We need her, Harry thought.

-The Hogwarts Express, Part 2-

Harry, Ron and Hermione were in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express, making their way back to London. Harry and Ron sat facing each other next to the windows, while Hermione dozed off on the seat next to Ron.

Ron was giddier than usual. He was happy school was over, and seemed excited to go home for the summer. Harry didn't feel the same. He was dreading his summer with the Dursleys and would rather stay at school all year round if he could.

"Maybe you can come to the burrow for a bit," asked Ron excitedly.

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry, although he knew his uncle would never let him out of the house.

"What do you think Mione's going to do this summer?" Ron asked Harry.

"I don't know, why don't you ask her?" Harry grinned at Ron's use of "Mione"- a nickname he adopted for her only when she wasn't listening. Hermione had made it very clear that she preferred being called by her full name. "Mione is just easier to say", Ron would protest, only to be met with a piercing glare.

"And wake her up? Do you think I want to die?" 

"Better than being expelled, right?" Ron and Harry laughed.

"Do you still think she's mental?" asked Harry.

Ron nodded. "Yes. But I don't mind it. Reckon it's good for me."

Harry thought back to all the times Hermione nagged Ron and Harry to study. He was proud of his marks this year, and he knew Ron was too. They might not readily admit it, but they knew Hermione was responsible for their success in school this year.

"Do you think she'll write to us?" wondered Ron.

"If you ask her to, she will." Harry knew Hermione would write to him. After he had shared his dread of going back to live with his Aunt and Uncle, Hermione had promised she'd send a letter every week. Harry was looking forward to those letters.

Ron thought about it before shrugging. "Nah. I wouldn't want her to think I like her too much. You know? Wouldn't want her to get excited about it."

"I don't think you have to worry about that." Harry turned his attention back to the window, and watched the rolling hills pass by, feeling very thankful for his two best friends.

Chapter Text

-Diagon Alley-

It was a relief to arrive in Diagon Alley with the Weasleys-- no more Dursleys, no more waiting on letters, no more missing his friends. Harry was thrilled when Ron and his brothers showed up at Privet Drive in their flying Ford Anglia to rescue him. He was quick to feel welcomed at the Burrow and was taking great pleasure in his time with the Weasleys. He felt like part of the family.

Harry and Ron were wandering the bookshelves of Flourish and Blott’s collecting their year two books when Harry noticed Arthur Weasley engaged in a conversation with a middle aged couple Harry didn’t recognize.

“Who is your dad talking to?

Ron looked across the room for his dad, and his face lit up. “Oh, those are the Grangers! Hermione’s parents.”

“Hermione’s here?” Harry asked. 

Ron was already anxiously looking around for Hermione. “Must be.”

Harry looked across the story to see Arthur animatedly talking to the couple. “But Hermione’s parents are muggles, I didn’t think they could come to Diagon Alley. Can they even see it?”

Ron was still distracted and barely answered. “Suppose they can.”

Harry continued collecting the course books down his list, sure that he’d run into Hermione sooner or later. She was probably preoccupied with a book somewhere. 

“Where do you think she is?” asked Ron.

“I’m sure she’s fine, she’s probably just reading somewhere. If we don’t see her here we’ll see her on the train.” 

Ron’s face fell, and Harry wondered what Ron needed from her. 

The boys perked up when they heard laughter- a foreign sound in a bookstore. He looked at Ron with a shrug, and they cleared the shelves to see what the commotion was about. 

A crowd of people, including Hermione and Ginny, was gathered around a tall, blonde, and handsome speaker that Harry vaguely recognized.

“Hermione!” Ron called toward her, but the commotion of the crowd must have drowned out his voice, because she didn’t even look up.  

Harry was about to put his books into his bag when he saw the man’s face on one of them-- Gilderoy Lockhart. The author of the second year Defense book was signing copies and drawing a large crowd-- no wonder no one had made a big deal about Harry being in the store, another celebrity was here to divert the attention! 

“You know, I could get used to him being our teacher- share the attention for once!” said Harry. He looked over at Ron who didn’t seem to share his excitement at all. Instead, Ron was scowling at the man at the podium. 

“Why is Hermione so entranced with him?” He asked. 

“Maybe because he’s a celebrity?” shrugged Harry.

“Yeah but you are too!” countered Ron. 

“Well, maybe she has a crush! Like she needs any more reason to be obsessed with school.” Ron was silent. “Are you ok Ron?”

“Girls are mental, mate,” said Ron, slightly red in the face. He shook his head as he and Harry headed toward the crowd to greet their best friend. 

-Polyjuice Potion-

“What happened?”

Ron was distracted, Harry could tell. “I don’t know but we need to focus. We can check back in on her later.” Harry was already stressed about their adventure to the Slytherin Common Room. He had been relying on Hermione’s quick thinking and felt uneasy taking on a task without her there, although he wasn’t going to admit that to her. 

Ron must have been feeling the same way. He rubbed his hand on his neck and kept peering back over his shoulder toward the girls’ bathroom, where Hermione was supposedly still hiding out, too embarrassed to be seen in person under the effects of the Polyjuice Potion. 

“Ron! Stop worrying about her- she’ll be fine. It’s us we have to worry about, we only have a short time until we turn back into ourselves, and we have to find Malfoy!”

“Right, right, I’m sorry”, said Ron with one last glance back down the hallway. 

Harry and Ron sat across from Malfoy in the Slytherin Common Room. 

“What’s going on with you two?”

Harry and Ron quickly looked at one another, then back at Malfoy. 

“Sorry. What were you saying.”

“I said” snarled Malfoy. “If another Mudblood dies, I hope it’s Granger.”

Harry automatically gripped Ron’s arm to stop him from reacting. He felt the muscles in Ron’s arm tense as he formed a fist. A quick side glance at him told him to stick to his part. 

“Seriously, what is wrong with you two today?” Malfoy looked as if he had never been challenged before, and would do anything to prove himself to Crabbe and Goyle. His smirk just asked for Ron to punch him, but he resisted the urge at Harry’s glance.

“Nothing,” said Ron, as he slumped in his seat. “I agree with you, this school would be better without her. She’s mental.”

Malfoy sighed. “I knew you’d agree. Now I can’t wait to see the look on Potter and Weasley’s faces when she dies. But I won’t get to, because they’ll fail out as soon as it happens, we all see they just use the Mudblood know-it-all to do well in classes. Why else would anyone be her friend?”

After their conversation with Malfoy, Ron and Harry found themselves sprinting back to the girls bathroom, clutching their faces to avoid being recognized. Harry had never felt anything like it before- and one glance at Ron proved that he’d never seen anything like it before. Ron’s facial features were bubbling and distorting as he turned back into himself. Harry felt like he was going to be sick, and according to the look on his face, Ron agreed. Regardless, Harry focused on getting back to Hermione so they could check up on her, and tell her about their conversation with Malfoy.

“You don’t think she thinks that, right?” Ron panted alongside him. 

Harry looked over at Ron, who now appeared to be a hybrid of himself and Crabbe as the potion worked its way out of his system. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What Malfoy said.” Ron paused for a breath. “That we use her for her brains and nothing else.”

Before talking to Malfoy, the thought had never crossed Harry’s mind. But it’s true that there was an added benefit to being friends with Hermione, and he wondered if Hermione was aware of it. “I hope not.”

“Me too.” Ron and Harry kept up their pace, determinately making their way back to the girls bathroom to reveal what they learned- and didn’t learn- from their interaction with Malfoy. “You know I was lying right? I don’t want anything to happen to Hermione. And not just because she helps me with my homework.”

“You were just saying what you needed to say. You were being Crabbe, and that was something he’d say.” A wave of concern for Hermione overwhelmed Harry. Harry had only ever known of his parents dying, but never a friend. His parents’ deaths broke his heart everyday, but what would it be like if someone he knew and spent time with were to die? How could Malfoy wish that on someone? Harry knew that Malfoy hated Hermione, but he could just stop paying her any attention, rather than wish for her death. “I can’t believe Malfoy wants her to die.” Harry felt sick to his stomach. Even Harry’s hatred for Malfoy wasn't enough for him to wish for his death.

Evidently, Ron didn’t agree. “I’d rather he die.” Ron’s look of hatred and determination alarmed Harry, but he shrugged it off as one of Crabbe’s remaining features, and the pair kept on down the corridor, toward the girls’ bathroom to check on their best friend. 

-Petrified-

When Harry and Ron left McGonagall’s office, he didn’t know what to say, or even think. Mcgonagall had said Hermione would be alright, but did she really know that?

Harry glanced over at Ron, who looked ill. They continued their brisk and silent walk down the corridor, toward the hospital wing. Mcgonagall had given them her permission to miss Transfiguration to visit Hermione. 

Madam Pomfrey was waiting for Harry and Ron when they arrived at the Hospital Wing. She eyed both of them up and down before speaking.“She’ll be alright, once we figure out how to pull  her out of this state. The mandrakes will help, but they’re not ready yet.” She turned to look at Ron. “Mr. Weasley, should I be preparing a bed for you in the wing?” 

“What? What are you talking about?”

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. “You look awfully pale.”

“Not about me- what’s wrong with Hermione?” It came out a little louder than intended. 

“Hermione?” Ron was now peering around Madam Pomfrey. She shushed him, but moved out of his way.

“She won’t be able to hear you. She won’t wake up for a long while.”

Harry followed behind Ron toward the bed where Madam Pomfrey was pointing. When he got to her bedside, he was shocked at what he saw. Hermione, perfectly still and nearly lifeless. Her eyes were wide open and glassy, and a horrified expression was permanently stuck to her face.

Ron and Harry had been visiting Hermione every day since she was petrified. Today found them both at her bedside as they worked on their latest Potions assignment.

“Maybe if we ask her questions about our homework she’ll wake up.” Ron was no longer focused, instead gazing thoughtfully at Hermione. “Or if we just start talking about how little homework we’ve done since she’s been in the hospital. Then she’ll get angry. Hermione? You better wake up before we get expelled. Or worse, detention with Snape.”

Harry missed Hermione very much, but he definitely didn’t miss her nagging him to do his work. “I dunno, it’s actually quite nice to be able to work in peace and avoid her pressure. You really need someone to row with, huh?” asked Harry. 

Ron scowled at Harry. “Hey, take that back! Or I’m going to tell her you wanted her to stay petrified when she wakes up.” 

Harry laughed. “No, you’re the one that’s going to pretend to be annoyed that she’s better, and tell her that we had so much fun and broke so many rules when she was asleep. She’ll be upset, you’ll fight, and everything’ll go back to normal.”

“Except we didn’t do any of that,” said Ron.  “We just sat next to her waiting for her to wake up so we could ask her to help us with our Potions essays.” 

Harry generally got on well with Hermione, but there was one thing he did not miss-- Ron and Hermione’s constant bickering. Since Hermione had been in the Hospital, things had been very peaceful for Ron, almost too peaceful. He got the sense that Ron was itching for a row, but had nowhere to direct his energy. 

Harry had never really argued with Hermione the way Ron did. Ron had six siblings, and had a lot of practice bickering and arguing. There was always someone picking on him, so defending himself had become a habit. Hermione was an only child like Harry, but unlike Harry, she had the full attention of both of her parents growing up. They always encouraged her opinions and entertained her ideas, and Ron liked to challenge her just because she wasn’t used to being challenged. 

“Do you miss your constant arguments?”

Harry thought he caught a smirk on Ron's face, but it quickly vanished. “Of course I do, I can never win any arguments against Fred and George. Even Ginny. But Hermione I can corner. Have you ever noticed how red-faced and angry she gets? Most of my siblings ignore me when I want to row with them, but Hermione won’t. I think that’s what I miss the most.”

Harry laughed. “I doubt she misses that.”

Ron went quiet as his eyes widened. “Do you think she know we’re here?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed Harry’s mind. He had just assumed Hermione was unaware of everything happening around her, but what if she wasn’t? What if she was listening into everything they were saying about her. “Ron if she’s listening, you’re in for some pretty big fights.

Ron laughed. “Looking forward to it. We better go get ourselves into trouble though, so she doesn’t think we spent all of our time waiting on her.”

“Maybe we can get detention from Snape for not doing this homework?” offered Harry.

“Yes,” said Ron. “That’ll annoy her. We just need to do something dumb before she wakes up, or else what was the point of her being petrified? Hermione, whatever attacked you couldn’t be worse than Professor Snape, right?” She didn’t answer, of course, but Harry took comfort in the possibility of her laughing internally. Being petrified would be really boring if no one came to visit to make you laugh.

Harry turned back to his homework, but was caught off guard by his best friend’s expression. He was looking at Hermione with concern and sadness, but there was something else there. Tenderness? Harry cleared his throat, and Ron turned his attention back to him as his ears reddened. “It’s weird. A bit like having a sister in the hospital, isn’t it?”

Ron’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at Hermione. His ears were still distinctly pink. “Yeah mate. Just like that.”

Even though Harry didn’t miss her nagging, he knew it was good for him, and he needed his brilliant best friend back. He could tell Ron felt the same way- or similarly, at best. 

Chapter Text

-Hogsmeade Weekend-

Harry was sitting alone by the fire, lost in thought when he heard the common room door open. His head snapped up to see Ron and Hermione bounding through the door, looking like they just had the time of their lives. He felt his insides constrict with the familiar pang of jealousy. They didn't seem to notice Harry there at all.

He kept quiet as the pair collapsed onto one of the couches across the room. Ron immediately started digging into his Honeydukes bag. He could see Hermione roll her eyes as she looked down to examine a new quill set she must have purchased earlier that day. Ron muttered something that Harry couldn't hear, and Hermione laughed.

"Looks like you two had fun."

Ron and Hermione paused and looked across the room. "Harry!" Hermione stood up and Ron followed. "We didn't see you there!"

Harry softened his scowl as his two best friends approached him. He wasn't angry at them, he just wished he could have gone to Hogsmeade with them.

Ron and Hermione sat down in the two chairs next to Harry, and Hermione immediately jumped into a summary of their time in Hogsmeade. Harry caught only a few of her words- she was talking so quickly due to her excitement. Something about the three broomsticks, butterbeer, the shrieking shack, and new quills. Hermione reached out to show Harry her new quill set. Harry glanced sideways toward Ron, expecting at least an eye roll. Instead, Ron was staring intently at Hermione as she talked, eyes bright as if he had never been more interested in hearing about writing utensils.

Ron must have sensed Harry looking at him as eventually his head snapped back toward Harry, and he scowled at Harry's smirk. "What?" Ron asked defensively.

"Nothing."

Ron rolled his eyes and both boys turned their attention back to Hermione. She was still talking, a mile a minute, having not noticed the interaction between the boys.

"Anyway, I'm off to bed, I've got loads of revising to do. You both do too, so don't stay up too late! Goodnight Harry! Ron!"

Hermione swung her book bag over her shoulder and smiled at both Ron and Harry as she turned off toward the dormitory stairs.

Ron and Harry both stood up and headed toward their own sleeping quarters. Surprisingly Ron, who should be tired after such an active day, picked up right where Hermione left off.

"You should have seen Hermione at the Shrieking Shack, she was so scared! I made her go so then I had to go with her to pick out new notebooks and quills, I swear she spent close to an hour there.'

"Sounds like you both had fun-"

Ron didn't even hear him. "Of course she agreed to go to Honeydukes with me- she says she doesn't like sweets but that's not true at all, she tried more of the candies than I did!"

Harry and Ron were in their dormitory now. Ron sat on his bed and turned to face Harry.

"You'd love the Three Broomsticks mate, we both had two Butterbeers. I wanted to try Firewhiskey but Hermione said they only serve Butterbeer to people our age. Plus, I've never really had a drink before so it was probably best to start with Butterbeer. Maybe firewhiskey next year!"

Those jealous knots were beginning to form in Harry's stomach again. Hearing Hermione talk about buying notebooks and quills in Hogsmeade hadn't triggered them, but listening to Ron go on about Butterbeer, he couldn't help but feel like he would have had a great time with the pair of them.

"Anyway, after two Butterbeers Hermione started laughing a lot more- like she wasn't even thinking about school. At the beginning of the day she kept talking about how she didn't want to stay long because she had revising to do, but by the second Butterbeer she was begging to go back to the Shrieking Shack because she wanted a closer look. We should sneak Butterbeer into her morning pumpkin juice!"

That explains why Hermione was so excited earlier- butterbeer. Harry began to tune Ron out as his mind wandered to what it would have been like to be with them. After some time Harry was only picking up fractions of what Ron was saying.

"-kept daring me to get closer to it!"

"-started throwing snowballs at each other'

"-can't wait to go back next weekend."

What if Ron and Hermione continued to go back to Hogsmeade every time without him? Could they possibly become better friends with each other than with him? A few more rounds of Butterbeer and snowball fights might just do it.

Harry had never really thought much about Ron and Hermione's friendship. He assumed they were friends with each other because of him. After all, Harry had liked Hermione before Ron did- at the beginning Ron thought she was mental! He even made fun of her, which led her to nearly get killed by a troll. Wasn't Ron originally just friends with her because he still felt guilty about that? Harry had just assumed that if he wasn't friends with Hermione, Ron wouldn't be either.

That didn't seem to be true anymore. Harry thought back to last year when Hermione was petrified, and how worried Ron was. Or when Malfoy called her a mudblood, and he tried to curse him, and ended up throwing up slugs. Was that just Ron's loyalty, maybe a sense of duty to protect his friends? Or was there more to it?

"I wish I could have been there." Harry said it so softly that he wasn't sure Ron heard him at all.

Ron had heard. He paused his chatter and looked up at Harry. 'I mean… yeah. That would have been even more fun."

Harry didn't know if he believed that.

Or maybe he was just paranoid.

Surely, there were worse things than your two best friends getting along really well.

-Scabbers vs Crookshanks-

"That bloody cat!"

Harry awoke with a start. It was Saturday morning and he was supposed to be sleeping in, but Ron was already awake, and he made sure the whole dorm was awake with him.

"Crookshanks ate Scabbers!" Ron yelled at Harry once he realized he was up.

"What?"

Ron was pacing the dormitory, seemingly talking to himself. "It's the only explanation. I haven't seen Scabbers in ages. And that bloody cat has had it out for him since she bought him. I am going to murder Hermione."

Ron had been looking for Scabbers for a few weeks now, but both he and Harry had just assumed that was wandering the castle and would turn up eventually. It wasn't until last night, when Ron had discovered Crookshanks curled up on his bed, that he began to assume more sinister reasons for Scabbers's disappearance. Ron had even asked Harry to locate the rat on the marauders map. When he couldn't, Ron was convinced that Scabbers was dead. Harry tried to point out that no one's pets showed up on the map, but it did no good.

"You don't know for sure." Harry turned back around in bed, and closed his eyes. "It's not her fault anyway." Ron had begun to suspect Crookshanks last night, but Harry had advised him to sleep on it. Turns out his suspicions had only grown stronger overnight.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT HER FAULT?" Nope, no more sleep was happening. "She has to control her damn cat!"

"Shut it mate. Trying to sleep here!" Seamus was awake too now, and seemed equally annoyed. "Your stupid rat probably went off to die alone somewhere, he was way too old."

Ron's face reddened. "I'm going to find Hermione." He stormed out of the dorm.

Seamus sat up, gawking at the doorway. "Someone warn the poor girl."

Harry laughed. "She'll be fine. They'll row for a few hours and then forget about it."

Seamus shrugged and laid back on his bed, presumably drifting back to sleep. Harry gently got out of bed. He should really check up on his friends and try to keep the peace.

By the time Harry had found Ron and Hermione, they were both fuming.

Hermione had been in the library. When Harry approached her table she had just scowled at him. "I don't want to hear it from you too."

"What? No, that's not why I'm here."

Hermione maintained her scowl as she looked up in disbelief. "So you don't think Crookshanks did it?"

"No. Ron's being ridiculous."

Hermione's expression softened. "Ok as long as you're not angry at me too."

Harry sat down across from her. "Just talk to him. I hate it when you both fight."

'No, Harry, he's the one who needs to apologize!

"He actually thinks your cat killed Scabbers so you have to understand why he's upset."

Hermione's scowl returned as she slammed her book closed on the table. "I'm not talking to him." She threw her book in her bag and left in a hurry.

Harry's conversation with Ron hadn't been any more productive. When he returned to the boys dormitory, Ron was lying in bed, pretending to work on his Potions essay.

"Hey." Ron looked up when Harry spoke. "Have you talked to Hermione?"

With that, Ron scowled down at his essay without answering.

"You're still talking to me, right?"

"Bloody hell" Ron's quill poked through his parchment as ink leached over his essay. He looked up at Harry. "What was that spell Hermione did to fix ink spills that one time."

"I don't know."

"Well can you ask her?"

Frustrated, Harry felt his face heat up in anger. "No. Just stop it. It's obviously more work for you two to avoid each other. Just ask her yourself." Picking up his bag to leave again, he continued."And maybe apologize while you're at it." Harry avoided Ron's eyes as he turned toward the door.

Harry had to admit, he was wrong about their row. This wasn't a quick one. It had been days, and Ron and Hermione were not talking to each other. In fact, Harry was busy playing the messenger- they sure had a lot to say to each other, they just needed someone else to say it.

It was dark when Harry returned to the dormitory. Assuming Ron had fallen asleep, Harry crawled into bed. He had continued to avoid both Ron and Hermione for the last few hours. He let his eyes close and thought back to that one Hogsmeade weekend- when his two best friends were getting a long a little too well. His jealousy felt petty now. Turns out it was much preferable when Ron and Hermione were friends.

"Harry."

Harry blinked his eyes open at the sound of Ron's voice.

"You awake?"

Ron didn't sound angry. He sounded sad. "Yeah. What's up?"

"I'm sorry."

Harry turned around to look at Ron. "It's ok." Harry was still frustrated with Ron, but he appreciated the apology nonetheless. "Did you tell Hermione that too?"

Ron's face fell. He turned onto his back to look up at the ceiling as he replied, "No. Don't you think she owes me an apology?"

If Crookshanks really had killed Scabbers, then yes. She would. But knowing Hermione, unless she had any proof, she would never believe that's what happened.

"Depends on what really happened, I guess."

Ron shrugged. "Seems like she cares more about that bloody cat than me."

"I think she'd say the same about you and Scabbers." Harry heard a sigh from Ron's was a prolonged silence as Ron shifted in his bed. Harry knew Ron wouldn't give in so easily.

"Well it's not true for me." Said Ron with a hint of sadness in his voice. "She'll apologize if she cares."

Harry sighed. His two best friends could be so stubborn.

-Unhinged Hermione-

Harry entered the common room to find Ron sitting on the couch. He looked as if he was nursing a headache with his head in his hands, rubbing his temples.

"Hey mate." Harry sat down next to him.

Ron jumped at his voice. "Hey Harry. Didn't see you come in."

Harry smiled. Ron had been acting weird all day. "Where's Hermione?"

At the mention of Hermione's name, Ron returned his head to his hands and sighed. "Bed. Mental that one."

"Or… brilliant?" Harry recalled Ron's reaction earlier that afternoon when Hermione had slapped Malfoy across the face. Harry had felt a rush of affection for his friend, and was hoping that he would see her again before she went to bed. "Did she hit you too?"

"Thank Merlin no. Now that I know what she's capable of, I'll be sure to never cross her again." Ron released his head from his hands and leaned back on the couch. "When did she go mental?"

Harry scowled at Ron. It seemed more like a statement than a question. But he answered anyway. "Always been that way. That's why we like her, remember?"

Ron laughed."No, we like her despite her being crazy, not because of it."

Harry was amused by how much Hermione affected Ron. Harry and Hermione had rows, but they were never as intense as those between Ron and Hermione. Harry was proud of his friend for slapping Malfoy- it was something Harry didn't have the guts to do himself, but Hermione's hidden violent side didn't spark the same strong reaction for Harry as it did for Ron.

"You two aren't fighting again, are you?"

Ron shook his head. "Now that I know what she's capable of, I'm never going to pick a fight again."

Harry laughed and bent over to pick up his bag. "Sure you will. You're Ron and Hermione. We're safe from her wrath anyway, she loves us." As Harry passed Ron to head up to the boys' dormitories, he noted the pink tinge spreading across his best friend's ears.

Harry observed his best friends closely over the next few days. Hermione had been acting normal- as if she'd forgotten about her run in with Malfoy. Ron however, had been extra polite to her, as if saying the wrong thing could earn him a slap too. Hermione was astute enough to notice, and it looked like she was rather enjoying it.

Ron was slowly returning back to his normal self when something new happened to reignite Ron's fear of Hermione. Divination class. Hermione's tolerance for Trelawney had reached her upper limit, and she dropped the subject. Not quietly, however. Hermione had stormed out in a rather dramatic fashion.

At the moment, Harry and Ron were sitting in the common room working on Divination homework. Neither of them had seen or talked to Hermione since the event.

Ron sighed. "We're on our own mate."

"Huh?" Harry looked up from his homework and raised his eyebrows at his best friend.

"Hermione. She can't help us with Divination homework anymore."

Harry laughed. "She was rubbish at it anyway. Never helpful."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't let her hear you say that."

Harry picked his quill back up and returned to his homework. "I'm not afraid of her like you."

Ron murmured something that sounded like "fair enough".

After a few moments silence, Ron piped up again. "Have you seen her since Divination?"

"No, why?" Harry said without looking up.

"Nothing. Just want to make sure she's ok."

"Yeah, we should ask next time we see her."

"Harry, we hardly see her." He looked a bit concerned. "She's taking way too many courses. When does she do it all?"

Harry shrugged. "She's always done a lot."

"Not this much. I'm a bit worried. Aren't you?"

"Hermione's fine, Ron."

"She's gone unhinged, first Malfoy then this?" Ron set his head back in his hands to rub his temples. Another Hermione-inspired headache. "Don't tell her I said that."

Harry smiled at his friend. "You really need to get over your fear of Hermione."

Ron shook his head. "It's not just that." A blush was creeping up his neck again.

"Then what?"

"I don't know," Ron leaned back in his chair and whispered. "Divination was one of the few times we could count on spending time with her." His ears were bright red now. "I just liked having her there."

Harry smirked at Ron. "She'll still help you with all your other homework, if that's what you're on about."

With an exasperated sigh, Ron gathered his books back into his bag. "It's not that." He stood up and turned toward the staircase. "Nevermind."

Harry began to pack up as well. "What is it then?"

"I don't know." Ron said over his shoulder as he started to climb the stairs. "It doesn't make sense."

-Hospital Wing-

Harry shifted his weight in the uncomfortable chair next to Ron's hospital wing bed, as the sound of his best friend snoring filled the room. He had been here for a few hours, and was tempted to leave, but really wanted Ron to wake up with a friend by his side. He knew that Ron probably felt left out- after all, he and Hermione had just spent the last few hours time traveling and Ron probably had questions. Harry recalled how left out he had felt when he had to miss out on Hogsmeade weekends. Ron was his best friend, and he didn't want him to feel that way.

Hermione had left to go down to the great hall for dinner. She promised to bring back some food for Ron and Harry. Hopefully, Ron would get to wake up to both of them by his side, along with a plate of warm food. That would make him happy.

The room was suddenly quiet. Harry peeked over at Ron to see that he was stirring. Harry beamed as he met Ron's eyes.

Ron smiled. "Hey mate," said Ron groggily. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours at least. Your leg is almost all healed."

Ron glanced down at his broken leg and his eyes went wide. "Wow, I thought that I had dreamed that!" He looked back at Harry. "So we really did go into the Shrieking Shack. And we met Sirius Black. And Professor Lupin…" His face fell while memories of the previous day seemed to solidify. "So… Sirius got the Dementor's Kiss then." Ron frowned up at his best friend. "I'm sorry."

Harry was still beaming at Ron.

"I thought you'd be more upset," said Ron.

"I have to fill you in on what happened earlier. You'll never believe it."

Harry proceeded to update Ron with the events of the last few hours as he eagerly listened on. He explained everything about the time turner, saving Buckbeak, Harry and Hermione's dangerous adventure in the forest, and Harry casting the patronus as Ron looked everywhere from terrified, to bewildered to impressed. When Harry finally finished, it took a few moments for Ron to come up with the right words as a response.

Eventually, Ron sighed and leaned back onto his bed frame. "So let me get this straight. A time turner? Hermione just had one?"

"Yes, McGonagall gave it to her so she could take all of those courses," nodded Harry.

"I was wondering how she managed her course load!" Ron shook his head. "You'd think she could have used some of that extra time to relax." With a smirk, Ron continued, "And not be a raving lunatic all the time."

"Hey you two got on quite well this year. Minus the Scabbers and Crookshanks debacle."

"That's true. Where is Hermione, by the way?" Ron looked over Harry's shoulder toward the door of the hospital wing.

"She left about ten minutes before you woke up. Went to dinner, and said she was going to pick up some food for us." Harry noticed Ron's face light up, presumably because of more than just the prospect of warm food. "She should be back any minute now."

"Does she get to keep the time turner?" asked Ron.

"No, she'll have to give it back to McGonagall at the end of term."

Ron frowned. "Do you think she would be willing to let me use it? I really want to know what it's like to go back in time."

Harry suddenly remembered how stressful their time in the past was. He recalled a few close moments when they had nearly been seen, and the realization that just minor changes in the past could have drastic consequences. "I don't think that's a good idea." Ron looked crestfallen. "I mean, you can ask her, but Hermione's adamant that the Time Turner shouldn't be used for fun. It can be really dangerous."

Ron shrugged. "It's ok. I figured, she wouldn't want to break any more rules for me."

"Sorry mate." Harry hated seeing Ron feeling so excluded. But luckily, Ron had many more questions.

"So you really did conjure a patronus! I bet it was amazing."

Harry perked up at the change of topic. "Yes! It's a stag! Just like my dad's was. I'd show you but I'm not sure I could conjure one right now."

"That's ok, I'm sure I'll see it someday. I bet Hermione was impressed." Ron didn't meet Harry's eyes as he said it and Harry noted his tone of envy.

"Well, yeah, but she said she knew I could always do it." A moment passed where Ron didn't say anything. "I bet she'll be impressed by yours too."

Ron looked at Harry and scowled. "I can't conjure a Patronus. I don't think that's something I'll ever be able to do."

Harry remembered that same feeling during his lessons with Professor Lupin. "That's exactly how I felt. If I can do it you can too."

Ron smiled at Harry's confidence in him. "Hermione too. She'll be able to do it too."

Harry nodded. "She will."

"So then what happened? You all rode a hippogriff?!"

"Yes, that was terrifying," recalled Harry. "But I was so excited that we saved Sirius that I didn't care."

"Do you think it got Hermione over her fear of flying?" Ron asked hopefully.

Harry laughed. "No I'm pretty sure it made it worse."

"Aww, I was hoping she'd be willing to play Quidditch with us now," said Ron, with a soft smirk.

"Fat chance."

At that exact moment, Hermione Granger walked into the hospital wing, carrying two plates of steaming food. "Ron, you're awake! I brought you both dinner. Sorry I took so long, I got caught up talking to Ginny. She'll be in to visit you later, Ron." Hermione carefully placed one plate on Ron's bedside table, and handed the other one to Harry. "How is your leg feeling?"

"Mud bedder, fank you," said Ron with his cheeks full of food.

"Honestly, learn to chew your food! That's disgusting." Regardless, Hermione smiled as she pulled up a chair to the other side of Ron's bed.

Ron, unfazed by Hermione's feigned disgust, ignored her comment. "I heard you overcame your fear of flying and rode a hippogriff. Does this mean you'll play Quidditch with me?"

Hermione laughed. "I see Harry's been filling you in with a very skewed version of tonight's events," Hermione said with a scowl in Harry's direction. Harry shrugged and looked away purposefully.

"Kidding, kidding," said Ron. "It's just hard to imagine you flying on a Hippogriff, that's all!"

"Agreed!" Hermione smiled at Ron. "You'll just have to believe it."

"I guess so." Ron took another bite of his food. "Still wish I could have seen it."

"Well next time there's an adventure like that, it'll be all three of us." Harry looked up at his two best friends. "I promise."

Ron and Hermione didn't seem to hear him, instead they were having their own conversation. And was Hermione blushing? Harry was instantly reminded of Ron and Hermione's trip to Hogsmeade, and how he felt seeing his friends having fun without him. For a reason he couldn't explain, he knew it felt distinctly different than the way Ron was feeling at being left out of Harry and Hermione's adventure.

More than anything, Harry wanted to spend time with his two best friends. Another adventure with the three of them was the greatest thing he could imagine. But looking at Ron and Hermione now, Harry wasn't sure if that was true for them. Over the last two years, Harry had always assumed that he was the reason for Ron and Hermione's friendship- the glue that held the trio together. Observing his two friends now, Harry felt a pit form in his stomach. This year Ron and Hermione had been able to sustain, and even grow their friendship without Harry.

Just as suddenly as Harry's wave of loneliness came on, it was replaced by one of guilt. He remembered Ron and Hermione's fight this year, and how miserable it was when they weren't talking to each other. Harry had never had friends before Hogwarts, and even if their friendship grew to be stronger, he was grateful to have them both.

Harry smiled softly at the two. "I'm glad you two aren't fighting anymore."

Hermione smiled. "Well, Ron's in the hospital wing- we can't row when he's injured, that would be unfair."

Laughing, Ron said "I'm just getting rested for the next fight, you both wait."

And with that, the friends continued to tell their stories, laugh, and enjoy each other's company.

Chapter Text

-A Letter From Hermione... and Ron-

One of the hottest days of summer found Harry lying on his bed, staring at Hedwig's empty cage and awaiting her return from Hermione's house. He was overheated and bored, which was typical of a summer at the Dursleys. A few weeks ago he would have been completely miserable lying here with nothing to do, and nothing to look forward to- his summers could often feel like there was no end in sight. But today was different. He had just finalized plans with the Weasleys, and he would be leaving for the Burrow within the next few days. He was to attend the Quidditch World Cup with Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys, and that knowledge made the blistering and boring day much more manageable.

Harry sat up when he thought he saw Hedwig's profile growing larger in the distance, and opened the window for her return. He had written to Hermione a letter to ask when she would be arriving at the Burrow, which Hedwig delivered, while Pigwidgeon dragged his most recent reply back to Ron. It had looked like Pig was struggling with his letter- poor little bird- and Harry wondered if he had made it back ok.

"Hey Hedwig!" Said Harry as his snowy owl gracefully glided in through the open window. Harry realized that he probably looked silly to muggles, talking to an owl, but he had stopped caring a while ago. "How was your trip?"

Hedwig hooted as she shook her leg at Harry, who quickly grabbed the attached letter from her ankle. When he glanced at the letter, he noted that the return address said "The Burrow". Hermione likely felt badly for Pig as well, as she often did over-empathize with other creatures. Harry smiled at the thought. She must have decided Pig was unfit for the trip, and borrowed Hedwig to send a letter to Ron before coming back here.

"Did Hermione make you fly to the Burrow too?" Asked Harry, scratching Hedwig's feathers. Harry knew Hedwig didn't mind the extra work- in fact she often got offended when Harry used another owl.

Hedwig hooted contentedly as Harry tore into Hermione's letter.

Hey Harry!

Are you excited for the World Cup? I hope you didn't make Hedwig fly to my parent's house, because I'm actually already at the Burrow- I got here a few days ago. Crookshanks has settled in quite well, he loves de-gnoming the Weasley's garden. Ron pretends to hate him (of course), but I think he appreciates that someone else is doing his chores! (He's reading this as I write and just rolled his eyes… but he didn't contradict me!).

I'm very excited for you to get here! Of course I'm excited about the world cup, but as you know, I'm not huge on Quidditch so I'm just looking forward to spending more time with you both! And Ginny of course. She keeps asking when you're going to get here. Anyway, I will see you in a few days!

-Hermione

PS I let Ron respond on the same parchment, hope that's ok!

Hi Harry,

Pigwidgeon barely made it back with your letter, so I'm glad you sent Hedwig! Even though it wasn't really for me. Do you ever wonder how owls know how to find people? I do.

Anyway, I can't wait for you to come! It's just been Hermione and me (and that bloody cat- who I'll admit, is finally making himself useful by de-gnoming the garden. Hermione saw me write that and now has a smug smile on her face, I bet you can imagine). I could really use another bloke in here though, Hermione is driving me mental (ouch, she just hit me in the arm!) and I know Ginny wants you to arrive as well. I think she still has a crush, so be nice to her ok?

Anyway, we will see you very soon. Can't wait to wreck havoc at the Dursleys!

-Ron

Harry frowned as he stared at the letter. He knew he should be happy to hear from both of them, but for some reason he wasn't. Hermione was already at the Burrow. Harry felt his stomach tighten in jealousy- a feeling he had become all too familiar with when Hermione and Ron had started spending more time together in Hogsmeade last year.

Harry re-read the joint letter again. They both seemed like they were having fun- sure, bickering and probably driving each other insane, but enjoying themselves. And he was stuck here at the Dursley's by himself.

The Dursleys. When his jealousy turned to anger, he reminded himself that directing it at Ron and Hermione was unfair- he was stuck here because of the Dursleys, not them. Plus, he had decided last year that he had nothing to feel jealous about- he often spent time alone with just one of them, and they never make a stink about it.

Well, at least he spent alone time with Ron, not as much with Hermione, but she was still his second best friend. Harry briefly wondered if Ron would feel jealous if he were to spend more time alone with Hermione.

His envy quieted down when he realized that Ron wouldn't have any reason whatsoever to feel jealous about that, so neither should he.

Still, the thought of them having fun together without him made the day feel more even more blistering and boring, which reminded Harry how truly miserable he was, cooped up in his tiny bedroom, and how much he couldn't wait to leave for the Burrow and reunite with Ron and Hermione.

"Only a few more days, Hedwig." She hooted back at him from her perch, as if to reassure him.

-Bonding at the Burrow-

To call the previous afternoon "eventful" would be an understatement. Ron, along with Fred, George, and Arthur had arrived at the Dursleys' by floo powder to take Harry back to the Burrow- and as expected, chaos had ensued. Harry smiled as he remembered retelling the story of Dudley's tongue swelling and his Aunt and Uncle's subsequent panic. At first Harry had felt sorry for his cousin, but his empathy was short-lived. He was so happy to be back at the Burrow, surrounded by his best friends and the Weasleys. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had spent the remainder of the evening catching up and talking excitedly about the world cup. They talked for hours, and Harry felt reassured by the fact that nothing between them had changed over the summer.

When sleep finally called, Harry and Ron retreated to the attic bedroom while the girls headed up to Ginny's. Much to Ron's dismay, Crookshanks had made himself at home on his pillow. Ron pulled back his blankets and sighed at the cat. "Go downstairs, Hermione's in Ginny's room!" He picked Crookshanks up and dropped him onto the floor by his bed. Crookshanks landed lightly, before jumping right back up to curl up next to Ron, purring. "Why does he like me so much?"

"Cats like people who don't like them." Harry had heard that somewhere, but wasn't actually sure if it was true. "Just pretend you like him and he might leave you alone."

"Really?" Ron considered it for a moment before engulfing the cat in a tight hug. It had the desired effect, Crookshanks immediately hissed and swiped at Ron, before squirming out of his clutches and exiting swiftly through the gap in the open door. "Hey, I guess you're right!"

Harry laughed as he and Ron crawled into their respective beds.

Ron clicked the light, and the pair fell into an amiable silence. Harry was nearly asleep when he heard Ron's quiet question. "Do you think that's also true about girls?"

Harry was confused by Ron's question. "What are you talking about?"

There was a long moment before Ron answered. "You know, what you said about Crookshanks. That cats only like people who don't like them." When Harry didn't respond, Ron continued. "It just reminded me of something the twins said."

Harry turned over in his bed to face Ron- even though it was dark he could tell Ron was blushing. "Girls aren't cats, Ron. And I don't know anything about girls." He and Ron had never talked about girls, at least not like this.

Ron nodded in contemplation. "Hermione's a girl."

Harry laughed. "That doesn't count."

"Why not?" Ron asked, with an almost-glare at Harry.

"Sorry!" Ron's face softened at his apology, even though Harry wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for. Then Ron raised his eyebrows as if asking Harry to continue. "Because it's Hermione. She's our best mate. Our friend. Just like you and me."

Ron scoffed. "So you think of Hermione the same way you think of me?"

Harry felt his defenses rising. "No, I mean obviously it's not the same!" He shook his head, as if trying to extract his own thoughts. "But I don't see how it's that different."

Harry sighed, fully aware that his words did not properly communicate his nearly-nonexistent thoughts on the matter of Hermione being a girl.

Ron just shrugged in response. "Fred and George kept taking the mickey out of me for having a girl best friend. They'll probably do it to you too."

Harry recalled a moment earlier in the evening when the twins had laughed and whispered something to Ron, causing him to blush and scowl. Now, Harry wondered if those comments had concerned Hermione, and the thought confused him. "But she's been our friend for years, why are they pointing that out now?"

Ron was silent at first, but Harry noticed his ears growing red, indicating his embarrassment. "Well. You know," said Ron, without eye contact.

"No, I don't." Harry was getting frustrated. "What's different?"

Ron, still staring at the ceiling, seemed reluctant to answer. "I don't know if you noticed- I mean I did. Fred and George did. Hermione just… I dunno. Grew up a little." Ron's face was redder than Harry had ever seen it.

Harry thought back to his interactions with Hermione over the past evening. Sure, Hermione had probably grown over the summer, just like he and Ron both did, but nothing else had felt different to him. Did it really feel that different for Ron? "No, I honestly hadn't really noticed."

Ron seemed surprised by this. "Really?" He shrugged. "Then I guess it won't bother you if Fred and George make comments."

"What kind of comments?" Harry looked at Ron for an answer, but got none. His face was still bright red, and he looked mortified. He spoke again so Ron didn't have to. "It bothers you, though."

Ron's gaze bore into the ceiling. He was still pink in the face. When he responded, Harry could tell he was choosing his words with caution. "I just don't want her to know that I've noticed she's a girl." He turned to look towards Harry. "Does that make sense?"

Harry shook his head and laughed to himself. "Not even a little bit."

Ron sighed and turned back to the ceiling. "Nevermind then. Goodnight mate."

"Goodnight," said Harry with a soft smirk.

In all honesty, Harry hadn't been completely truthful- Ron's comment did make some sense. For Harry, Hermione being a girl didn't mean anything. He hardly ever thought about it. She was just Hermione, his best friend..

But maybe it wasn't the same for Ron.

-Unrest at the World Cup-

"Granger, they're after muggles. D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around…they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh." -Draco Malfoy, 1994 Quidditch World Cup*

The events of the evening were a blur, and Harry was just glad he was safe back at the Burrow. His thoughts were racing with worry. The air in the living room was tense and panicked when the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione arrived. Mrs. Weasley had immediately engulfed everyone in hugs, which briefly comforted Harry.

Harry didn't know what to think about the dark mark. He didn't want to believe that Voldemort was back, because if he was, he would definitely try to kill Harry. But Malfoy's suggestion that the death eaters were after muggles sent his worry spiraling out of control. He didn't want any of his friends or family to get caught up in this.

Eventually, as the tension settled down and drowsiness took over, Hermione and Ginny bid them good night, along with the rest of the family, leaving Ron and Harry alone.

"We should get some sleep too," suggested Harry.

Ron sat down on the sofa and shook his head. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep." He looked a combination of scared and angry. At first it annoyed Harry. Ron didn't really have as much to be scared about as he did. Or Hermione, if the death eaters were truly after muggles. "Did you hear what Malfoy said?"

How could Harry forget. He nodded slowly. "About the death eaters? Yeah."

"Are you worried about Hermione?"

Harry felt that Hermione didn't have nearly as much to fear as Harry. Sure, he worried about his muggleborn friend, but Harry was the 'boy who lived', and he knew that if Voldemort came back, fixing that was going to be his first order of business. "I'm the one that should be scared, Ron."

Ron scowled at Harry. "What are you talking about? As far as I know, you don't wear knickers, mate. Malfoy won't do anything to you."

In this moment, Harry realized he and Ron were talking about completely different things. The realization made him boil with an intense frustration with Ron that he didn't even know he was holding onto.

"That's the part of what Malfoy said that you're angry about? The part about hanging Hermione up by her knickers?" It was true that Malfoy's taunt made Harry feel deeply uncomfortable and defensive of Hermione, but to him, it was hardly the most worrisome part of the evening. "Not the whole, you know, dark mark part? Or the muggle part? The fact that the death eaters could be back? And if they are, they have a very good reason to want me dead?"

Ron met Harry with his own angry glare. "Of course I'm angry about that! You should be too! Hermione's our best friend, and now Malfoy's also realized she's a girl." He now realized with more clarity what Malfoy had been implying, and his stomach tightened at the memory. Ron exhaled sharply and drew his hands to his face as if he had a headache. "And, yes. The dark mark. And you." Harry waited as Ron took a moment in contemplation. "It's all bad," continued Ron. "I dunno, I was just surprised to hear Malfoy say that. I'd always thought he hated her." He looked at his friend. "But now maybe he doesn't. You know, with her having grown up and stuff. Doesn't mean he wont try to hurt her, though." Harry felt guilt overcome him- he hadn't thought of any of that.

Ron continued. "I'm sorry. Big picture. I'm scared for you too."

"No you're right," Harry admitted. "It's ok." He smiled at Ron, to assure he him he wasn't angry. "Also, I'm pretty sure Malfoy still hates Hermione."

"Then why is he thinking about her knickers?" Ron shot back.

Harry shifted uncomfortably and shrugged."I don't know. You can think about the kickers of someone you hate. Right?"

Ron looked over with a raised eyebrow. "Do you think about…" Ron paused to think of someone Harry hated. "Pansy Parkinson's knickers?"

Harry laughed. "No of course not."

"Exactly," said Ron smugly.

"I guess I don't think about anyone's knickers." Harry admitted. "Do you?"

Ron didn't answer, perhaps intentionally. Conversations like this had previously been uncommon for the two boys, but Harry had noticed them increasing in frequency. Especially surrounding their mutual best friend.

Harry's reflection was interrupted by Ron's abrupt comment. "We should look out for Hermione this year."

Although he was sure that Hermione would be fine- she never needed anyone to look out for her, he nodded in response to appease Ron's concerns. "We will, but she can handle herself. Do you remember when she punched Malfoy?"

Ron just smiled at the memory, and if anything Harry hoped he had made him feel better.

-S.P.E.W.-

"Mental, she is." Ron tossed his bag to the side of his four poster and leaped onto the bed. "I hope she doesn't expect us to take this seriously."

Hermione had just informed them about the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, otherwise known as S.P.E.W. Or, spew, as Ron preferred to call it. And of course, Harry and Ron were expected to take an active role.

"It's completely mental, it's not going to work, and I don't want to be involved." Ron groaned in frustration.

Harry, who's witness to house elf abuse led him to free Dobby, actually thought S.P.E.W. was a pretty good idea, but he wasn't about to admit it to Ron. He agreed with him in one sense- he didn't want to be actively involved either, but just because he felt he already had too much going on. "Just let her have this one, we probably don't have to actually do anything," he said hopefully.

"She doesn't even know anything about house elves," Ron muttered into his pillow.

"Do you know anything about house elves?"

"Yes! I know way more about house elves than both of you, I was raised by wizards, remember."

Ron was right- Harry and Hermione had both been raised by muggles, and their first introduction to house elves had come with Dobby, back in second year.

Harry paused for Ron to continue. "They're not going to like what she's doing. They don't want to be free."

Harry sat down on his own four poster. He couldn't imagine that to be true, especially recalling the years he spent locked up in a cupboard under a staircase at the Dursley's, and Dobby's ecstatic reaction to freedom second year. "Why wouldn't they want to be free? Dobby did."

"Yeah but Dobby is different than other elves. I don't know why. But the rest won't want Hermione to interfere.' Ron sat up on his bed. "It'll backfire. You should tell her that."

"Why me?" Asked Harry indignantly.

"Because she would listen to you." Ron's shoulders slumped. "She think's I'm dense."

"She doesn't!"

Ron simply raised his eyebrows at him. "Do you notice how she never asks me questions about homework, but she asks you?"

Harry hadn't noticed, at least not until Ron had pointed it out, something that was happening quite a bit lately. "That has nothing to do with house elves. You come from a wizarding family, so it would make sense that she'd listen to you. Just like you said."

"It would make sense. But she still won't listen to me. She doesn't ask me about homework even though I could very possibly know more than her, because I've been raised by wizards. And she's not going to listen to me about house elves." Ron scowled. "I know she thinks I'm a bloody idiot."

Harry didn't know why Ron was making this so complicated. Being friends with Hermione was a simple matter of choosing your battles wisely. "You're overthinking this."

Harry sighed. "Ok, I'll tell her it's not going to work. But she's not going to listen to me either.'

"Still better you than me." Ron muttered as he laid back down on his bed.

Harry contemplated what he could possibly tell Hermione about house elves. It seemed there was no point; she was like a train that couldn't be stopped sometimes.

Ron spoke up again, this time little more quietly. "People will make fun of her if she keeps trying this."

"Is that what you're on about then?"

Ron's silence was his answer.

"I don't think she cares about that, Ron." Harry remembered the Hermione from first year who ran crying into the bathroom when Ron had made fun of her. Today's Hermione was much different. More resilient and confident, maybe overly so. She didn't give a damn what her dissenting peers said, even if they sometimes talked sense.

"I know she doesn't. That's why she formed this barmy club," continued Ron into his pillow.

"Then why do you care?"

"I don't know," said Ron as he turned onto his side to shut off his light. "Just looking out for her, I guess."

"Then try to be supportive. You're the treasurer of S.P.E.W. after all."

"Don't remind me," said Ron with another groan. "I can pretend to be supportive. But I am going to call it spew, and she can bloody well live with it."

Harry laughed. Hermione could be passionate about a cause, sometimes intensely. Ultimately he knew it would be Ron to criticize S.P.E.W., and Harry was secretly glad that Hermione had a vocal dissenter. She might not appear to consider Ron's opinions upfront, but she usually took them to heart in the end- in a different way than she did with Harry's. And even if he complained about doing it, Harry knew Ron would keep sharing his thoughts until she heard them. It often seemed that Hermione approached Ron's opinions with a higher skepticism because they meant more to her.

Maybe that was because he was from a wizarding family, and she knew he often had knowledge she didn't. Harry could think of a few other reasons too.

He felt his eyes close and his breathing slow, and soon enough, the Secretary and Treasurer of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare were asleep.

-The Fourth Champion-

Harry watched his two best friends sitting together at the far end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. They had their books open, quills out, and heads together as they scribbled away at homework. When he noticed Harry was looking, Ron looked up and shot a glare at him. Harry didn't look away. Hermione, noticing the tension between the boys, looked across at Harry, her face contorted to an expression of torn apology.

Harry sighed and turned back to his own work. Ron had hardly spoken to Harry since his name had emerged from the Goblet of Fire. Ron's anger and silence that day preceded a blazing row, the biggest one they'd ever had. Evidently Ron thought that Harry had been scheming to become a Hogwarts champion all this time, and neglected to tell him. To a certain extent, Harry could sympathize. He would be angry too. The problem was that none of it was true. The last thing Harry wanted was to be a Hogwarts champion and compete in the Triwizard Tournament. He just wanted to be a normal kid.

More importantly he wanted his best friend back. Hermione had remained his friend of course, but it wasn't the same. She couldn't carry on a conversation about Quidditch, and her anxiety and stress affected him a lot more when Ron wasn't there to diffuse it. She was also insistent that Ron would get over himself soon. He misses you! It's just temporary. He needs time to cool down, that's all. Harry wanted to believe her- she did have more experience arguing with Ron after all. But he felt skeptical when he remembered their weeks-long spat last year, when Ron thought that Crookshanks had killed Scabbers. There were times during those weeks when Harry had thought they'd never make up, even though it was obvious that Ron missed Hermione. If anything, he knew his best friend was stubborn, and would not readily admit to being wrong this time.

Although the trio had overcome tension before, Harry had never been on the receiving end of any of the anger. He did not like watching Ron and Hermione together, knowing he couldn't join them. It was a lot different than not having a permission slip for Hogsmeade- he was truly unwelcome.

On the positive end, Hermione, who had to split her time between the two boys, had a lot less energy to push S.P.E.W. on him. Harry didn't need to be nagged about his duty to recruit more people to the club right now, so this was a welcome change. However, he still found himself hoping that Hermione still found the time to nag Ron.

Harry watched as his two best friends… more accurately one best friend and Ron, appeared to argue. A red-faced Ron closed his book, and whispered something to an exasperated Hermione as he stood up to shove his book into his bag, and stormed out of the Great Hall. Harry was right behind him, throwing his things into his own bag as he stood up to follow.

Harry caught up with Ron in the corridor. Harry was panting- Ron's strides were longer and he had a head start. His heavy breathing alerted Ron to his presence.

"Stop following me!" Ron spat angrily over his shoulder. "And close your damn mouth."

"Will you just listen to me?" Harry nearly shouted as he continued to follow Ron.

Ron halted and turned around so abruptly that Harry nearly crashed right into him.

"What." Ron looked angry and exhausted. "Say your piece."

"I've already said it. You have to know that I don't want to be in the Tournament."

Ron rolled his eyes.

Harry continued. "Would you want to compete? Seriously."

Harry watched as Ron's face hardened into a scowl. "My name would never have come out of the Goblet of Fire, you know that."

Harry ignored the fact that Ron didn't answer his question. "Hermione believes me."

"Of course she told you that," said Ron slyly, as he turned to continue on his way.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shouted Harry.

Ron paused, but didn't look back. "Look. Hermione says she believes you, but I have a feeling she's just saying that so you don't blow up at her too." Harry's heart sank.

"It's been quite nice just being around her, actually. Less drama. Maybe becoming friends with 'The Boy Who Lived' was a mistake in the first place."

Harry tried to shove away the anger that boiled up, and the jealousy that arose at the thought of Ron and Hermione realizing that they preferred each other over him. Less drama. In a way, Ron was not wrong. It was true that Harry had brought quite a bit of danger into their lives.

He couldn't ignore the anger, and although he knew it would be counterproductive, all he wanted to do was grab Ron by the shoulder, shake him, and scream at him. But he didn't have time to do or say anything. Without a single hesitation, or glance back to Harry, Ron continued his quick pace along the corridor, leaving Harry watching with his fists clenched and blood boiling.

It'll be better without Ron. Harry turned back toward the Great Hall, desperately trying to convince himself he believed that.

-A Moment of Solidarity-

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth - she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

It was lucky, perhaps, that both Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time; lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.

"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions." -Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire*

Harry and Ron found themselves in the common room, struggling with their Potions homework from their respective places across the room. Hermione had just gone up to bed, and Harry immediately wished she hadn't. Ron was not nearly as much help as she was, especially now that he wouldn't even speak to Harry, and for this particular lesson, they didn't have Hermione's notes.

Hermione had spent this lesson in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey, reversing the buck-tooth curse that Malfoy had sent her way. Even though she missed class, Harry knew that she had already read the book and could still help them with their potions essays.

Ron had been in a particularly foul mood since class, which seemed to have gotten worse since Hermione left for bed.

"What's wrong with you?' Harry called, without looking up from his parchment.

Ron said nothing at first, and Harry assumed he would be ignored… again. Harry was delighted when he actually spoke. "Snape."

Harry nodded. Snape had assigned them extra homework in addition to the detention they had to serve later that week. "It's not fair isn't it? We didn't really do anything."

Ron shook his head. "It's not that. I don't mind the extra homework. Or the detention for that matter."

Harry had the unsettling feeling that he and Ron were on completely different pages, again. He lowered his head to his hands, feeling another Ron-related headache threatening to send him to bed early, homework unfinished. "Then what is it Ron?"

Ron snapped his head up at Harry. "Did you not notice Hermione just now?"

"I just talked to her! You saw me!"

Ron groaned in frustration. "Did you notice anything different?"

Other than the obvious fact that Madam Pomfrey had fixed Hermione's teeth, he did not. "Well obviously she changed her teeth back to normal, but of course she was going to do that."

Harry barely caught Ron's mutter, and he wished he hadn't. "You really are thick, aren't you."

"What are you talking about?"

Ron nearly shouted across the common room, and Harry was suddenly glad they were alone. "I said you're thick. You're so focused on yourself, and the bloody tournament, that you don't even notice what's going on with other people."

Harry stood up and started shoving his books back into his bag. He didn't have time for this. Especially if Ron wasn't even going to tell him what's going on. He had no choice but to walk past Ron's table to reach the dormitory steps, and when he passed, he spoke to Ron much as calmly as he could manage. "Well why don't you tell me?"

He half expected Ron to ignore him again, but to his surprise, he didn't. "If you truly didn't notice,' said Ron through clenched teeth. "Hermione shrunk her teeth past their normal size."

Harry was dumbfounded. How, on Earth, would Ron notice that? How would he expect Harry to notice that? "I did not notice," muttered Harry. He started to turn up the stairway to the boys dormitory when Ron interrupted him again.

"Didn't it bother you? What Snape said?"

In short, yes. When Malfoy's curse hit Hermione and caused her teeth to grow, Snape's cruel comment had triggered all of his hatred for the professor. He recalled that Hermione looked on the verge of tears before she scurried away to Madam Pomfrey. But Harry had almost forgotten about it, and he definitely hadn't noticed that Hermione had shrunk her teeth beyond their normal size. "It was cruel," admitted Harry. Maybe he had been too focused on himself lately.

To Harry's relief, Ron didn't look angry anymore. "She looked good enough before, don't you think?" He looked up at Harry expectantly for a response.

"Erm…yeah. I guess. Again, hadn't really noticed."

Ron turned his attention back to his homework. "We promised we'd look out for her."

Harry nodded. "We did."

Ron didn't respond again, and kept his focus on the parchment in front of him. Harry didn't want to push him any more, so he muttered a quick goodnight to Ron, and made his way upstairs.

-Friends Again-

The party in the Gryffindor Common room was raging on. Harry watched from a nearby sofa as the golden egg bounced from classmate to classmate, and he quite couldn't rid himself of the satisfied smile on his face.

Harry had completed the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and defeated the Hungarian Horntail. It was spectacular. He felt a rush of confidence when he heard everyone cheering his name from the stands. Maybe I could finish this tournament, he thought. Or even better, maybe I could win it.

The completion of the task and the supportive celebration aside, it wasn't the only reason for Harry's newfound confidence. He and Ron were friends again. Ron had approached him after the task, and finally admitted that he believed Harry. According to Ron, you'd have to be completely mental to compete in this death trap willingly. Harry couldn't agree more.

Harry watched as Ron emerged from the crowd and approached him. Harry still felt the need to be a little cautious around him, but he was overwhelmingly happy to have him back.

"How do you reckon they'll try to off you all for the second task?" Asked Ron as he sank into the seat next to Harry.

"Dunno, I'll have to figure it out."

"We'll help you," said Ron earnestly. "Well, Hermione will actually help you, but I'll be there. I'll try.'

Harry laughed. They were a trio again. "Finally got bored of Hermione?" Said Harry jokingly, as he nudged Ron in the side. "Is that the real reason we've made up?"

Harry almost regretted saying it when he recognized a flash of anger cross Ron's eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sorry! I just figured you must have ran out of things to talk about. I dunno, I like Hermione a lot but she can't carry on a conversation about Quidditch."

Ron softened his expression and laughed. "True. She can't. But that doesn't matter. We must just…," he paused to contemplate his words. "We must talk about other things than you two do." Harry noticed a hint of pink creep over Rons ears as he said that. "But you're right, I missed having a bloke to talk to."

The two boys nodded in agreement and turned to watch the ongoing celebration. Hermione was now holding the egg, ignoring those around her asking her to toss it back into the crowd. Harry watched her turn it over in her hand, studying it, as if she was already trying to figure out the next task. He glanced beside him, and noticed that Ron was watching her too.

Harry smiled to himself, overwhelmed with gratitude for his two best friends. For the first time in a while, he felt positive about the adventures ahead of them.

Chapter Text

-Rita's Rumor-

"Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in school." —Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet

"Draco Malfoy, of course, was still quoting Rita Skeeter's article at him at every possible opportunity, but he was getting fewer and fewer laughs out of it…" —Goblet of Fire, Chapter 22

Harry, Ron and Hermione were huddled together in the Great Hall, quietly discussing his plan for deciphering the egg. Harry still didn't have any idea what to expect in the second task. Although making up with Ron temporarily eased his anxiety, it was slowly creeping back as the second task drew nearer. It seemed to occupy a lot of Hermione's headspace as well, as she had taken to frequently discussing the egg in public, using a hushed voice to avoid eavesdroppers.

Hermione huddled closer to Harry to prevent being overheard, when they heard Malfoy's voice across the hall.

"Hey Granger! Potter! Get a room, why don't you?" Malfoy's comment was followed by several laughs, before he continued. "Actually, I prefer you didn't. Mudbloods shouldn't be allowed to breed."

"Ignore it." Hermione muttered in Ron's direction, who was suddenly clenching his fists. His face had gone red, and he appeared not to hear her. Harry watched his two best friends sitting across from each other at the table, noting that Hermione's request was not directed at him at all, but entirely to Ron.

Maybe it made him a terrible friend, but the fact that Rita's article was still making a buzz was perfectly ok with him. He had gotten used to the rumors about him and Hermione, and had needed a break from the constant attention. Sharing the spotlight with Hermione made it easier to handle, and the fact that people were still talking about his rumored romantic life eased his anxiety from the terrifying tasks still before him. Hermione seemed to understand this. "If he's still talking about that article, it means he has nothing better to make fun of us for, and that's a good thing."

Ron didn't seem to share their sentiments. Harry had never really gotten a chance to talk to Ron about Rita's article- they were not speaking when it was released, and discussing the content of the article would have only made things more tense between them. Now that they were back to being friends, Harry was realizing how much the rumors bothered Ron.

Ron called out toward the Slytherin table, "Malfoy!" Draco whipped his head around and scowled at Ron. "Ferrets shouldn't breed with trolls so what are you doing so close to Pansy?" Malfoy simply rolled his eyes and turned back around, muttering something to Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle as they all laughed.

"Ronald!" hissed Hermione. "What did I just say?"

"He needs to stop talking about that bloody article."

"So you're going to stoop to his level?" Hermione shook her head. "You're no better than him then."

Ron laughed. "Excuse me, I'm loads better than Malfoy."

"No, you're not."

"Oh, ok, Hermione, why don't you go over there and chat him up then? You can let him copy your homework, and nag him about studying harder. Then maybe you two can go to Hogsmeade and he'll be happy to wait for two whole hours while you pick out some bloody parchment. Oh he will just call you names and hex you, but if that's what you're into…"

Defeated, Hermione simply narrowed her eyes back at Ron. "OK, fine, you're better than him but you're still exhausting."

"Can you two just shut up?" Hermione and Ron both turned their attention back to him, and he realized he raised his voice more than he meant to. "Sorry, just can't take the bickering."

"Sorry Harry," said Hermione as she stood up. 'I'm off to the library anyway."

Harry and Ron watched her hurry out of the Great Hall, ignoring a few snarky comments on her way out. Harry was impressed, but not surprised at how gracefully Hermione had handled the increase of attention- both positive and negative- since Rita's article came out. "I wish I was as good at ignoring people as she is,' said Harry sadly. "I'm just glad I'm not the only one being talked about."

Ron turned back to Harry, scowling as if he didn't approve of his sentiment. "You don't think she's upset about the article, do you?"

"I don't think so," shrugged Harry, slightly annoyed at Ron, again, for his stronger concern for Hermione than him. "Why?"

"Everyone thinks you're together now," continued Ron. "People have been thinking that for a while. Does that bother you?"

Harry sighed. "No one who knows us actually thinks that."

Ron shrugged. "I wouldn't be so sure."

Harry looked around at his fellow Gryffindors. Before Rita's article, the thought that Hermione and Harry could be more than friends had never crossed Harry's mind. He suddenly felt unsure about how his friendship might be perceived by his classmates. He stole a glance toward the Ravenclaw table. Maybe there was one other student in particular that concerned him more than others, but Ron didn't need to know about that. "But, it's obvious we're just friends, right?"

Ron laughed. "I think I'd notice if my two best friends got together. Wouldn't you?"

"Erm, yeah. I guess I would." Harry glanced down at his dinner plate, realizing he didn't have quite the appetite as before. It didn't ease Harry's concerns to know that Ron didn't believe Rita's nonsense. Like Ron, Harry was confident he'd notice if his two best friends got together. It wasn't that difficult to imagine.

Did people think the same about him and Hermione?

He was tempted to steal another glance at the Ravenclaw table, but he could tell that Ron was still watching him from the corner of his eye. Ron's gaze felt strange to Harry, as if he was seeing Harry in a different light. It reminded him of the look he got if Harry was close to winning a game of Wizard's Chess, and Ron had to stay vigilant. Harry wondered how confident Ron was in Harry and Hermione's platonic friendship, even though he said he was.

They had fallen back into their friendship with ease, but something still felt off. At first Harry thought it was just residual awkwardness from their row, but maybe it had more to do with Rita's article. After all, Harry wasn't there to ease Ron's concerns when it came out.

"Are you ok?" Harry asked in an attempt to break the tension.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah." Harry chanced a more obvious glance at the Ravenclaw table. Maybe Ron should know someone had caught his interest. He didn't want Ron to have the wrong idea.

-The Unexpected Task-

At first, Harry was relieved when Hermione decided to go to bed. He could no longer handle her nagging him about the egg, as his mind was now occupied by the much more terrifying task of finding a date to the Yule ball. He had no desire to think about either one.

A week ago, Harry would have said finding a partner for a dance would be a cinch compared to taking on a Hungarian Horntail. But now that he had done the latter, and was facing the prospect of asking a girl to the ball, he thought he'd rather have another round with the Horntail.*

Ron was proving to be much more interested in talking about the Yule Ball than the second task, likely because it was a task he had to complete as well. "Who do you reckon you'll go with?" asked Ron from his cozy armchair by the fire.

Lost in thought, Harry barely heard Ron's question. He shrugged, not really caring to answer it either. Although he was grateful that talk of the second task ceased with Hermione's departure, this topic was even worse. He glanced up at the entrance to the girls' dormitory, briefly hoping she would come back down. Harry had a feeling Ron wouldn't want to entertain this topic with her around.

"McGonagall said you have to take someone since you're a champion."

Harry knew that, and was dripping with anxiety about asking someone to the Yule Ball. The questions "who do you reckon you'll go with," and 'who do you want to ask," were two very different ones. He knew who he wanted to go with- Cho Chang, of course. Who he would actually go with? No idea.

"Do you think you'll go with Hermione?"

Ron's question was unexpected, but he couldn't really be surprised. After all, there were still rampant rumors about him and Hermione.

"Don't think so, no."

This was a white lie. Harry had considered asking Hermione. It would have been an easy solution, but Harry had a suspicion that someone else might want to go with her more. "Do you think you'll go with Hermione?"

"What?" Ron seemed surprised to consider his own question, which amused Harry. "Maybe, I don't know. Do you think she'd want to go with me?"

"I'm sure she'd be happy to go with a friend. But not me. I just don't want to give Rita more reasons to write about her."

It clearly wasn't exactly what Ron wanted to hear, but Harry didn't care. He had a task ahead of him- asking Cho Chang to the ball, and Ron was clearly not going to be helpful in that regard. Ron scowled. "Well maybe I'll be her last resort then."

Harry groaned, now realizing how his comment came across. "I didn't mean it like that. You should go together, it would be fun."

"It would be."

Harry smiled at the image of Ron, Hermione, himself, and Cho all dancing and having fun at the ball together.

Both boys just had to pluck up the courage to ask. How hard could it be?

-A Missed Opportunity-

"We should get a move on, you know… ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

Hermione let out a splutter of indignation. "A pair of…. what, excuse me?"

"Well — you know," said Ron, shrugging. "I'd rather go alone than with — with Eloise Midgen, say."

"Her acne's loads better lately — and she's really nice!"

"Her nose is off-center," said Ron.

"Oh, I see," Hermione said, bristling. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er — yeah, that sounds about right," said Ron.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped and she swept off towards the girls' staircase without another word. — Goblet of Fire, Chapter 22

It had been a few days since Harry and Ron had discussed asking their desired dates to the ball— and neither of them had done it yet. A great opportunity for Ron to ask her had just passed, and all Ron did was call another girl a troll.

"What's her problem?" asked Ron, staring toward the girls' dormitory.

Harry rolled his eyes. "What are you trying to do?" Harry was well aware that Ron played down his feelings for Hermione in her presence. Not that he'd ever admitted the extent of them to Harry either. Harry was just speculating, after all.

"I'm not trying to do anything."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron. "Then what was all that about Eloise Midgen being a troll?"

"Well I didn't say Hermione was a troll."

Harry groaned. Back at the Burrow, Ron mentioned that he didn't want Hermione to know he realized she was a girl. He was doing a wonderful job of that. Too good, maybe. "I thought you were going to ask her."

"Ok fine," admitted Ron. "I am going to ask her. And because of what I just said about Eloise Midgen, when I do ask Hermione, she will know that I don't think she's a troll."

"She'll be so flattered," Harry muttered sarcastically. Ron's logic was lost on Harry.

"Exactly! I'll make a big deal about wanting to go with someone who is really good looking. Then I'll ask her. Of course she'll be flattered."

"Right, because her nose is dead center," replied Harry.

Ron scowled. "You don't think it's going to work, don't you?"

Silence filled the space between the two boys as Harry contemplated what to say to Ron. Harry didn't feel like he was in a position to give any advice— he still avoided the girl he was hoping to ask every time he turned the corner. But sometimes it was easier to notice things that didn't involve him directly.

"I just think if you wait too long, she might assume you're asking her as a last resort. You know, because 'all the good ones are taken.'"

Ron shook his head. "I won't be though. She'll know that. I'm not going to ask anyone else before her, anyway."

"Whatever you say, mate."

Ron was definitely overcomplicating the very simple task of asking Hermione. But based on his own anxiety at the thought of asking Cho, he couldn't really judge him for it.

-The Secret Life of Hermione Granger-

"I can't come with you," said Hermione, now blushing, "because I'm already going with someone."

"No, you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh, did I?" Said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl."

Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again. "Ok, ok, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"

"I've already told you! Hermione said, very angrily. "I'm going with someone else!"

And she stormed off toward the girls' dormitories again.

— Goblet of Fire, Chapter 22

A few days later, Harry was lying in bed, trying to push away the image that kept popping back into his head: the image of him at the ball with Cho Chang on his arm, dancing and socializing with Ron and Hermione.

That would have been fun.

Too bad it was not going to happen. Nothing had gone according to plan. Harry managed to pluck up the courage to ask Cho, but she turned him down for Cedric Diggory, the real Hogwarts champion. And for some odd reason, Ron had unsuccessfully asked Fleur to the ball, before asking Hermione in what seemed like a last resort.

Harry looked over at Ron's bed. He was lying on his side facing away from Harry. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to talk. He knew he was mortified.

But he spoke up anyway, hoping that he could make him feel better. "Are you ok?"

Ron's answer came in the form of more silence. No, he wasn't.

Eventually Ron turned around to face Harry. "I don't know why I asked Fleur."

Harry would have been mortified too, but he didn't want to tell Ron that. "I'm sure loads of blokes have asked her, you're not alone in being turned down by her."

Ron sighed. "That's not it. It's that Hermione knows I asked Fleur."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. She does."

Ron let out a breath he was holding. "And after everything I said about Eloise Midgen…"

Harry nodded again.

"She probably thinks that I asked her as a last resort."

Harry didn't nod, but he didn't need to.

"And after what I said about Eloise Midgen, she probably thinks I think she's a troll. Or one small step above troll."

"At least she knows you're aware she's a girl now."

"Not exactly the way I wanted her to find that out."

That was fair. Hermione did seem pretty hurt by the interaction.

"Who do you think she's going with?"

"I really don't know," answered Harry.

"Do you think she's lying about having a date?" asked Ron hopefully.

Harry shook his head. "I doubt it. Why, are you hoping she is?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe she said that to save face. If she admits she's lying, then I can ask her again."

It wasn't going to work. "She'll think it's a pity invite."

"No she won't because it won't be."

Ron's nonsensical responses confirmed to Harry that Ron really was desperate to fix this, but he wasn't going about it in the right way. "I wouldn't count on that."

"She's definitely lying," said Ron as if he hadn't heard Harry at all. "You wait, I'll get it out of her."

Harry shook his head and laid back down on his pillow. The lights turned off, and Harry listened for the familiar sound of Ron snoring, but it didn't come. He was probably going to be awake for a while, plotting how to get Hermione to admit she was lying about having a date to the ball. Although Harry wasn't a girl, he knew that he would feel insulted if someone didn't believe he had a date. And knowing Hermione and how proud she could be, this wasn't going to go well.

Whatever Ron was planning, it probably wasn't a good idea.

He felt himself starting to drift off. Talking Ron out of his plan could wait until tomorrow.

-Yule Ball-

Well, this was fun.

Harry was sitting frozen between Parvati and Ron at the Yule Ball, unsure what to say to either one of them.

Parvati probably wanted him to ask her to dance. He should ask, if he were to be a good date.

But if he got up and left, Ron would look like even more of an idiot, and Harry was already embarrassed enough for him. So he should stay with Ron, if he were to be a good friend.

His dilemma was solved when two Beauxbatons boys showed up to their table, offering their hands to Parvati and Padma.

"Do you mind?" Parvati asked in Harry's direction.

He shook his head.

Padma didn't even ask Ron- she took his hand and hurried back to the dance floor as if she couldn't get away from Ron fast enough.

Harry looked over at his best friend. Ron was dressed head to toe in maroon lace, wearing a scowl that told everyone at the ball to keep their distance. He stared out toward the dance floor, angrily watching Hermione and Krum. He didn't even seem to notice that his date had left, nor had he even thanked Harry for getting him a date. He hardly acknowledged the favor, and had barely spoken two words to Padma all evening.

Following Ron's gaze out to the dance floor, Harry spotted Krum, twirling Hermione to a fast paced song he didn't know. His view of Hermione and Krum was momentarily obscured by another couple, and Harry felt his own heart sink.

Cho and Cedric were huddled close together deeper in the throng of dancers. Cedric's lips brushed her ear, and she was laughing at whatever he had just whispered. Harry scowled as they turned, and he noticed how low his hands were on her waist. He willed himself to look away, and any annoyance he felt toward Ron dissipated as he swelled with empathy for his best friend.

"We could just leave, you know?"

Ron's expression didn't change, he just turned his scowl onto Harry. Harry flinched under his intense glare. "So Vicky can have a moment alone with her?" Fuck that."

Harry leaned away, looking at Ron incredulously. "Ron, they're just dancing. If it's bothering you so much, you don't have to watch them."

Ron didn't appear to have heard him, but now that the elephant in the room had been acknowledged he couldn't seem to shut up.

"When has she ever spoken to him? I don't understand how they even know each other."

Harry shrugged. He didn't understand that either. He had assumed that Hermione was always either spending time with them, or studying, but evidently she had a social life beyond Harry and Ron that neither knew anything about.

"She doesn't even think he's attractive, do you remember what she said about people only liking him because he's famous? What's she playing at?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted again.

"He's so much older too! That's just creepy, don't you think?"

Harry had considered that— it's true, Krum was older than Hermione, but Hermione was also older than both Harry and Ron, so Hermione might not see it that way.

Maybe they did know each other, and she liked him for reasons beyond the fact that he was famous. Harry had no way of knowing. However, it was also possible that she was at the ball with Krum for one very simple reason: he had asked her first.

After all, neither Harry nor Ron were at the ball with their preferred dates. Harry looked out at the crowd and wondered how many other students were actually here with their first choice partners. Harry hoped not Cho, and for Ron's sake, not Hermione.

"He's totally using her! He's gonna regret taking her to the ball, I'll make sure of it."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron. In moments like this, Ron was more bark than bite. Harry doubted that he would even be able to get a word out to Krum if he ever actually approached Ron. He'd probably just end up asking for his autographic, and then beating himself up about it later.

Unfortunately, Harry was proven wrong when Krum turned and walked briskly toward the pair.

"Hello, Harry," said Krum as he approached. Harry looked up and expected to see Hermione, but she was no longer with him. "Ron, correct?"

Krum looked over at Ron, but he didn't answer, he just continued to scowl.

"Okay… Harry, Hermy-own-ninny has gone to the loo, I vas hoping ve could sit with you and haf drinks?"

Harry was about to answer in the affirmative, but was cut off by Ron.

"Why are you here with Hermione?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Ron's face was growing redder. "Why are you here with her? You know she's only fifteen, right?"

Krum looked shocked. "I'm sorry, if you think I haf the wrong intentions. I just enjoy her company, that is all. Hermy-oh-ninny and I get along very vell."

Ron scowled at him and sank further back into his seat. "Hermione. Try that again."

"Vat?"

Ron raised his voice. "Her-my-oh-nee. You're saying her goddamn name wrong. Has she never corrected you?"

"Oh. No, she hasn't." Krum looked over at Harry, as if willing him to back him up. Harry shrugged and shook his head. He had no idea what Ron was going for, nor how to stop him.

"Why couldn't you just go with someone else? You have so many other girls following you around because you're a famous Quidditch player, and you have to go with Hermione? Why?"

"I'm sorry, when I asked her it seemed like she vas available. I didn't know you haf feelings for her. She didn't tell me."

"I don't!" Harry scoffed as Ron shouted at Krum. Who was he kidding? "She's my friend, and you should keep your hands off her."

Krum narrowed his eyes at Ron. "If you vanted to come to the ball with her, you should haf asked."

He made to walk back to the dance floor, but turned around to look back at Ron before adding, "I von't tell her about this conversation."

Harry stared wide eyed at Krum as he turned on his heels and hurried toward the dance floor, where Hermione had returned. Ron continued to scowl at him as he leaned down to kiss Hermione on the cheek before turning toward the bar. She smiled and blushed.

Ron's clenched his fists. "Did he just kiss her?" He asked rhetorically. Hermione then spotted him, and hurriedly bid Fred and Angelina goodbye before making her way to the boys. Ron continued to scowl at her as she approached and Harry met her confused gaze with yet another shrug and shake of his head.

Krum must have kept his promise to Ron, because Hermione was clearly not privy to the conversation that had just occurred.

"It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. "Victor's just gone to get some drinks."

Ron gave her a withering look.

"Viktor?" He said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Harry winced, aware that a blazing row was coming, and he didn't want to get caught in the crossfire— again.

"What's up with you?" she said.

"If you don't know," said Ron scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you."

Harry froze, looking between his two best friends. Ron might as well have told Hermione everything she seemed to suspect, but didn't know. He watched understanding creep onto Hermione's face as her expression turned from anger to pity. He studied Hermione's expression- there was definitely more nuance to it than that, but Ron's rudeness combined with her frustration at him for nearly calling her a troll, however indirectly, left her looking at Ron like he was back in first year trying to cast Wingardium Leviosa with a the wrong hand motion and incorrect pronunciation.

Whatever his intentions were, they didn't matter, he was doing this all wrong. Hermione's attempt to mask her hurt resulted in a condescending scowl.

And that look set Ron off.

The two erupted into an argument, and Harry wished he could get up and leave without having them turn their anger back onto him.

He listened to Ron backtrack, trying to convince Hermione that the root of his anger was that Viktor Krum was from Durmstrang, and in direct competition with Harry. He continued to catch glimpses of their argument, unsure if he should try to mediate.

"Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?" Hermione asked shrilly.

She had a point, but Ron ignored her.

At one point, Ron must have noticed how obvious his true feelings were because he stooped pretty low to hide them. "Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with… he's just trying to get closer to Harry— get inside information on him— or get near enough to jinx him—"

Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. And if words could slap someone, nothing would be more effective than Ron's implication that Victor's supposed interest in her was nothing more than a play to get ahead in the tournament. Her voice shook when she spoke next, biting back tears. "Ok. If I'm hearing you correctly, you think that there must be another motive for Victor to want to spend time with me. Because he's an international quidditch star, and could have any girl at this school, it makes no sense to you that he'd come to the ball with a… troll."

Harry snapped his head back toward Ron to see him contorting his face in a mixture of confusion and regret. "No, that's not what I meant."

But Hermione hadn't heard him. She had already stormed off, and was briskly walking back toward the dance floor, hastily wiping her eyes in an effort to compose herself.

Harry looked back over at Ron, who was avoiding his eye contact. Everyone around them had started staring, and Harry wished they wouldn't. Not for his sake, he was used to shrugging off attention, but for Ron's.

"I'm going to go." Ron stood up, and looked around, blushing as he noticed he had an audience.

Harry nodded as he watched Ron storm away through the doors of the great hall.

It was going to be a long night.

-The Aftermath-

Harry was not surprised to find Ron still asleep when he woke up the next morning. Ron Weasley usually needed a lot of sleep, and with the night he'd just experienced, he likely needed his rest even more.

Harry reluctantly turned and rolled out of bed, but winced when he stepped onto something small and sharp. He let out a yelp as he instantly picked his foot back up, and looked down to see what he had just stepped on.

He reached down to pick it up, studying what appeared to be the disembodied leg of a small action figure. Harry looked down and around him and noticed another limb- an arm splayed out closer to Ron's bed. Then two more limbs scattered around the carpet between the beds.

On Ron's bedside table was the lonely torso of his Victor Krum figurine. Harry smirked, reminding himself to make fun of Ron later. Much, much later.

But today was not going to be the day. Harry swallowed his desire to take the mickey out of his best friend— it would be better to just make sure he was ok.

The previous night..

Harry arrived back to the common room to find his fellow Gryffindors huddled around the portrait hole, listening through the door.

"What's going on?" he had asked.

"Fat lady won't let us in," said Seamus. "Said to give them a moment to sort things out."

Confused, Harry leaned in to listen, and heard the all-too-familiar sound of his two best friends shouting at each other, continuing the argument they had started at the ball.

His roommates didn't seem to mind being kept awake, in fact they were enjoying their free entertainment.

"Harry, after this, how long do you think they'll be giving each other the silent treatment for?" asked Dean.

Harry didn't want to even think about that. Third year had been rough enough.

"At least until Ron admits he fancies her, and we all know that's not going to happen anytime soon," said Seamus.

"He should have asked her earlier," said Neville. "Most people were just there with the first person that asked them, not their first choice." Harry frowned sympathetically at Neville, he knew that Neville had asked Hermione before Ron had managed to, and had also been turned down.

Seamus shrugged. "She's probably glad that she didn't have to be seen with Ron in those robes." Seamus and Dean laughed. Harry and Neville just glanced at each other, neither were enjoying making fun of Ron. They both knew how he felt, after all.

The boys quieted down to continue eavesdropping.

"Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before someone else does!" shrieked Hermione.

Seamus sniggered. "She's got a point, you know,"

"That's not even the point!" sputtered Ron.

At that, the boys burst out laughing.

After a few moments of silence, the Fat Lady must have assumed the coast was clear, so the portrait hole swung open and the fourth year boys piled in.

Seamus, looking up beyond the stairs, said "Do you think our dorm is going to be intact?"

Dean sniggered.

But when the boys made their way slowly back up to the dorm, Ron appeared to be asleep. Or at least pretending. To Harry's relief, no one said anything to him, or made fun of him. He expected it to happen eventually, maybe tomorrow, but at that moment, he was glad that Ron could get some rest and cool down.

Now Harry was down on his hands and knees, scooping up the severed limbs of Victor Krum in an effort to save another poor soul from the pain of stepping on one.

"Harry."

Harry looked up to see an awake but groggy Ron peering over his bed down at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Harry reluctantly showed Ron the dismembered Krum figurine as he scooted back onto his bed. "I… erm… stepped on it when I woke up and it kind of hurt."

"Sorry." Ron's face had turned pink. "Not sure why I did that."

"You aren't?" responded Harry with raised eyebrows and a smirk. When Ron scowled in response, Harry apologized. "I'm sorry. I'm not planning on making fun of you. Last night was rough."

Ron sighed. "Yeah. It was."

"Are you ok?" Harry asked him?

"Yeah."

It felt like the wrong time to ask about Hermione— but selfishly, all Harry could think about was how long he would have to play messenger between the two. Surprisingly, Ron was the one to bring it up.

"Do you think she's still mad at me?"

Harry hesitated before answering. "Probably." There was no way she wasn't. Hermione was definitely too stubborn to forgive so quickly.

Ron nodded. "I was an arse, wasn't I?"

Harry didn't answer.

Ron stood up to change into his day clothes. "I want to go find Hermione. I think I need to apologize."

Harry agreed, but was still shocked at Ron's admission. "Er.. alright then. Go find her."

When Ron was dressed and ready, he started on his way down the stairs.

"Harry."

"What?" Harry whipped his head back around to Ron.

"Don't tell her about the Krum figurine."

Harry smiled. "I won't.'

-Rita Skeeter's Scoop-

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last Quidditch World Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to stay with him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

However, it may not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate young boys' interests.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth year student, "but she'd be well-up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Harry was so engrossed in Rita's article that he barely caught Ron leaving the Great Hall. He saw a flash of his red hair pass through the doors, and turned to see Hermione staring in the same direction.

Hermione, unfazed by what she had just read, looked back at her friend. "What's the matter with him?"

"Dunno," Harry lied. After reading Rita's article detailing his romantic entanglements with Hermione, he had a pretty good idea what had set Ron off. "I'll go talk to him."

Harry and Hermione parted ways, and he set off in search of his best friend.

Luckily, Ron's fiery hair was easy to spot. Harry found him in a window well near the library, overlooking the courtyard, with his Transfiguration book open in his lap.

"Are you studying?" Harry asked cautiously as he approached Ron.

Ron lifted his eyes to Harry, then scowled back down at his book. "No."

Harry felt his stomach tighten. He wanted to assure Ron that the rumors about him and Hermione in Rita's article were of course untrue, but he didn't want to make any assumptions about what had set him off.

Nevermind that all of Gryffindor tower was making the same assumptions after the debacle at the Yule Ball- Ron didn't need any reminders of that.

"Can I sit?"

Wordlessly, Ron shifted his legs to make room for Harry, who took a seat at the opposite end of the window well. "Why are you here, anyway."

Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "Just didn't want to be around Hermione anymore. Giving her some space, you know."

Harry hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Ron much since the second task, at least not alone, and he wondered how he felt about Hermione being Krum's lake rescue. Both boys knew she hadn't been thrilled about it, in fact she made a point to mention that the feelings he developed for her felt too intense.

Suddenly, it made perfect sense to Harry why Ron was 'giving her space.' He smiled at the calculated nature of it all. "So you're over here alone by your own accord, because you're not thinking about Hermione at all," said Harry, humoring him.

"Exactly." Ron seemed unaware of Harry's amusement. "In fact I followed Pansy Parkinson."

"Pansy Parkinson?" Harry scowled.

Ron nodded.

"Why?"

"Well for one, I hate her." Harry had to agree with Ron there. "And two, she insulted Hermione and I wanted to have a word with her." Ron sat back against the wall and grinned smugly.

Of course, Harry should have known. However, Hermione didn't seem at all bothered by Pansy's insults. In fact, she begged for the two boys to ignore it.

Harry briefly wondered what had transpired between Ron and Hermione that led them to make up so quickly. After all, Ron had also insulted Hermione at the ball, so his reaction to Pansy was quite hypocritical.

Maybe this helped Ron feel better, and was easier than swallowing his pride in front of Hermione. "Ron, that's the last thing Hermione would want you to do."

"Oh I know," said Ron matter-of-factly, as though that had little to do with his motivation. "That's why you're not telling her. In fact, tell her that I left for reasons unrelated to her."

"Sure." He smiled at his friend, relieved that he wouldn't have to try to justify Ron's actions to Hermione. "What did you say to Pansy, anyway?"

"Nothing. I used a bat-bogey hex."

"A what?"

Ron stood up and grabbed his bag. "Something Ginny taught me." Swinging his bag over his shoulder, he continued down the corridor back toward the Gryffindor Common room. Harry followed behind.

"She really doesn't care about what Pansy said, you know." Harry said it, even though he knew his point was moot.

"Right," said Ron, without a glance back. "She can handle herself. She made that clear." Ron's strides were a bit longer than Harry's, and he walked even faster due to the rush of adrenaline. Harry struggled to keep up. Ron kept glancing over his shoulder as he continued. "Maybe that's why she likes Krum. He hardly even has the courage to talk to her. Let alone stand up for her." Then Ron muttered something more quietly, and Harry almost didn't hear him. "Spineless git."

Harry rolled his eyes and followed his best friend back to Gryffindor Tower. He smiled as he remembered the limbless figurine of Viktor Krum that lived somewhere in their dormitory. At least he had spared Pansy the same fate.

-Hogwarts Express-

Harry and Ron sat alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts express. Hermione had left when Ginny pulled her out to her own compartment for some "girl talk".

She had left her bag on the seat next to Ron, and sticking out was the glass jar which contained Rita Skeeter in her animagus form. Harry wanted to talk to Ron, but was worried she'd overhear…

"Do you think she's listening?"

"Huh?" said Ron, awakening from his thoughts.

"Rita." Harry said with a nod toward Hermione's bag.

"Oh. I don't think so. Knowing Hermione she'd put a silencing spell on her. But I don't know for sure. Maybe she didn't." Ron scowled at the jar. "This is insane, by the way. I'd tell you to remind me to never get her hacked off again, but we both know that would be useless."

Harry smiled. "Afraid she'll put you in a jar someday?"

Ron nodded.

"Have you two sorted everything out then?"

"Sorry?" said Ron, confused.

Harry sighed in frustration. "You and Hermione?" Something was distracting him.

Ron scowled and shook his head. "Not sure what you're talking about, mate."

Harry wanted to shake Ron. "After everything this year, are you two doing ok?"

"Wait, Harry!" Ron motioned at the glass jar in Hermione's bag. "Just to be sure. Who knows what Rita's telling Hermione."

Harry rolled his eyes at the preposterous implication that Hermione would be using Rita to eavesdrop on a conversation such as this one.

Ron pulled off his jumper, and made to cover up the jar by shoving it into the top of Hermione's bag. Harry doubted it would muffle their conversation as much as a spell, but unfortunately, he didn't know any spells that could.

"Anyway," Ron continued. "There's nothing going on between me and Hermione. We're just friends. You know that."

Harry scowled. "No, you're not."

Ron motioned back to the jar. "Ok. There was a time when I wanted more." He leaned back, as if wistfully recalling a distant memory. "But then, she put Rita in a jar."

Harry laughed. "That changed your feelings?"

"Well no. But it reminded me how utterly terrifying she can be."

That much was true. However, if you asked Harry, he was relieved that Rita was silenced, at least for now.

"She's brilliant," said Harry.

'Mental," replied Ron.

"A little bit of both." The boys silently agreed.

"Then what else has got you all distracted?" asked Harry, amused.

"Nothing. Just thinking about the summer, that's all. Are you planning on coming to the Burrow?"

"Yeah. I'd like that," responded Harry. He hoped he wouldn't have to spend too much time with the Dursleys.

"Hermione's coming too, I think. At least I invited her."

"That should be fun then."

"And if she says she can come, it means she's probably not going to Bulgaria. You know. With Krum."

Harry had forgotten that Krum had invited Hermione to visit him. He wondered what her summer plans really were. "You're probably right," he said, smirking at the hopefulness in Ron's tone of voice.

Eventually, the Hogwarts Express arrived back in London, and Hermione came back into the compartment to gather her things and bid them goodbye. At the platform, Harry watched his two best friends hesitate before giving each other a tentative one-armed hug.

Harry waved goodbye to the Weasleys as he followed the Dursley's to their car, smiling at the fact that Ron was still not wearing his jumper. He wondered if he had left it in Hermione's bag by mistake, or if he knew exactly what he was doing.

Next year would be their year. Harry was sure of it.

Chapter Text

A/Ns

(1) Here's year 5! Much thanks to smjl for her feedback on this one.

(2) Text taken directly from the books is marked with italics.

-Grimmauld Place-

Harry was lying down on an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar house— Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The second bed, which belonged to Ron, was left messy and unmade. Harry let out a frustrated sigh. Ron. Harry had been excited to see his best friend again, but unfortunately did not do a very good job of showing it earlier. He could tell that Ron was hurt.

If he wasn't hurt, he would be up here catching up with Harry, rather than downstairs spending even more time with Hermione. The pair had already been together all summer, so Ron's absence from the shared bedroom was a pretty good indication that he wasn't interested in talking to Harry.

His frustrations had been growing all summer, prompted by Ron and Hermione's short letters and hints that they were already together. It felt like last summer all over again, but this time, their secrecy seemed intentional, which made it feel even worse. They clearly hadn't predicted Harry's reaction to their reunion— Hermione had embraced him for a hug, and Ron was beaming when Harry pushed them both away, and yelled at them.

They had exchanged confused looks and shrugs, which made Harry angrier, like they were silently communicating about him, in front of him, further alienating him from their friendship.

They appeared to be understanding of his anger, but neither one of them was apologetic enough to want to come up to this room and talk to him. Harry was tempted to just go downstairs, and talk to them instead. He had missed them- so much had happened this summer, and he needed his friends more than ever. However, it didn't feel worth it to swallow his pride and forgive them for ignoring him for the last month, so he silently committed himself to lying on his side, staring angrily at Ron's unmade bed.

He was about to doze off when the sound of the door abruptly opening startled him. Suddenly alert, he shot up from his comfortable position to see Ron in the doorway, staring back at him.

"What?" said Harry icily.

Ron's expressionless face turned to a scowl. "If you really want to be alone, I'll go sleep in Fred and George's," he said as he entered the room. "I just need to get my things."

Harry sighed and collapsed back on the bed. "No, you can stay."

Ron paused and eyed at Harry. "If you're going to yell at me again, I won't bother."

Harry shook his head. "I won't." He looked over at Ron holding his nightclothes. He still looked as if he would prefer to sleep anywhere else.

Ron dropped his night clothes back onto his bed. "You know, you really don't have any reason to be mad at us. We didn't do anything wrong."

Harry felt his anger reigniting, but made every effort to keep his voice calm. "You hardly wrote to me. And you both have been hanging out here for who knows how long, and didn't think to invite me."

"We couldn't!"

"Why?"

"Dumbledore said—"

"I don't give a damn what Dumbledore—" Harry paused when Ron began gathering his things up, as he'd clearly broken his promise not to yell. "Sorry. Don't leave. Nevermind. I just wanted to be included, that's all. If I had been here instead I would have avoided the whole dementor attack."

Ron sighed, but conceded. He sat back down on the bed. There was still a hint of anger in his voice. "You'll be let off of the charges. Hermione reckons—"

"Speaking of Hermione." Harry cut Ron off. Even though he had brought it up, he really didn't want to talk about the dementor attack. "How long has she been here?"

"A couple of weeks," said Ron with a hint of a blush. "Why?"

"Oh," Harry shrugged. "I thought she might have gone to Bulgaria. You know, to visit Krum."

Ron blushed more. "Yeah. Her parents wouldn't let her go," he said with a hint of a smile. "Didn't think it was 'proper', you know."

"Are they still together?" Harry noticed Ron tense at the question, but he ignored it. He had been left out of enough information and simply wanted to know what was going on with his friends. They owed him at least that much.

"Dunno, but I reckon they're not," Ron shrugged. "I mean, she's here, isn't she?"

Harry made a mental note to ask Hermione about Krum later. "Yeah. I guess her parents don't find you as threatening as Viktor Krum," he said with a laugh.

He expected a laugh in return, but was met instead with icy silence. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!" Harry spluttered. "Her folks like you that's all, they don't know Krum."

Ron shook his head. "Good save."

Confused, Harry laid back down on the bed, what he had said wrong. He thought he had made up for his outburst earlier, by diverting the conversation to one of Ron's favorite topics, Hermione. But maybe not.

Ron busied himself by preparing for bed, and Harry crawled underneath the stiff blankets, noticing his best friend was still avoiding his eyes. Ignoring the tension between them, they both fell asleep.

-Prefect Party-

Harry watched Ron and Hermione from across the room, as they soaked up all the celebratory attention they could get. Hermione was beaming as Mrs. Weasley hugged her, and Ron looked as though his face had permanently turned red. They stood under a large banner that said 'Congratulations Ron and Hermione' as if this were an engagement party.

Things had remained tense between the trio for a few days following his arrival. Harry's original angry outburst had caused a divide between them, and his motivation to overcome it and reconnect with Ron and Hermione was variable, at best.

In general, however, things were improving. Harry's visit with the Wizengamot was a success, and he had been let off of all charges concerning his use of underage magic. In addition, they rescinded his expulsion from Hogwarts, and Harry's resulting cheerful mood had lifted some of the tension between him and his friends.

Harry reluctantly admitted that he had taken out his anger unfairly on Ron and Hermione. He didn't quite understand the reasons for his anger until he met Dumbledore at the Ministry. Dumbledore wouldn't look him in the eye, or speak directly to him, and Harry had no idea why.

According to Ron and Hermione, Dumbledore had also asked them to limit their communication with him, and didn't tell them why either.

And then in another blow, Dumbledore had awarded prefect roles to both Ron and Hermione, not Harry, which is what brought Harry to standing grumpily in the corner of the room during their celebratory party. He didn't think they were undeserving, it definitely wasn't that. He just thought he was a little more deserving of the role than Ron. He kind of assumed he would be named prefect.

He wasn't the only one who thought that- Hermione shrieked when she saw Harry holding the prefect's badge, "I knew it!" He also noticed Ron's face fall when she said that.

Harry didn't know what was stronger, his anger at Dumbledore, or his jealousy toward his friends.

Harry glanced back across the room to see that Ron was approaching him.

"Hey," he said with a nod.

"Hey," Harry responded awkwardly.

There was a pause as both boys took a sip of their butterbeer.

"Well, congratulations Ron," Harry said. He winced at how unconvincing he sounded. Trying to make it better, "You deserve it."

Ron snorted. "I was just coming over to tell you it should have been you." He smiled sheepishly. "I reckon Dumbledore made a mistake."

Harry shook his head. "No. I reckon he didn't. Plus you'll have more fun than I would wandering the halls with Hermione after hours anyway."

Harry regretted his little jab when Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Well you heard how she reacted. She's shocked it's me. Clearly she didn't expect it." Ron took a long sip of his drink before adding, "Probably thinks I'll be rubbish."

"No—," Harry started to reassure Ron, but couldn't quite think of the words. He was partly right. At first, Hermione was convinced that they were playing a prank on her. "She's happy it's you though." It wasn't a lie. Hermione was surprised Ron was made prefect, but pleasantly so. At least he thought.

"I bet she thinks I'll fail, just like Fred and George do."

"What are you talking about? You'll do great."

"I can't keep Fred and George in line, they'll never listen to me."

"Well maybe not. But they'll listen to Hermione."

Ron shrugged. "Then she should be prefect alone."

Harry shook his head. "No, people really like you. And they listen to her. You'll make a good team." Harry still wished it was him, but he could see that Ron's confidence was dipping to dangerous levels, so it was best not to mention that right now.

They looked across the room to see Hermione animatedly arguing with Fred and George, possibly about one of their latest questionable inventions. The twins shared a look of amusement and fear— the same one Ron often wore when arguing with Hermione.

Ron looked back at Harry, amused. "Are you saying people don't like Hermione?'

"No—," started Harry, "They just like you better."

"Well. We like Hermione," said Ron with a laugh.

"True." Harry grinned. They both liked Hermione. Just not in the same way. But he wasn't going to say that so explicitly. It seemed that Ron still thought there was a pretense.

They settled back into silence again, but this time it felt friendly. He might be a little bit jealous of Ron, and angry at Dumbledore, but he was ultimately happy for his two best friends.

-A Surprise Kiss-

"Don't let Ron see what's on those Slytherin's badges," she whispered urgently. Harry looked questioningly at her, but she shook her head warningly; Ron had just ambled over to them, looking lost and desperate. "Good luck, Ron," said Hermione, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. "And you, Harry -" Ron seemed to come to himself slightly as they walked back across the Great Hall. He touched the spot on his face where Hermione had kissed him, looking puzzled, as though he was not quite sure what had just happened."

Harry and Ron stood together in the Gryffindor quidditch tent, peering through the curtains at the stands. It was the first game of the season, and Ron was a nervous wreck. It quite concerned Harry, but he knew better than to make it worse by telling him to calm down.

There were multiple factors to his nerves- the first being the large crowd of people that stood in the stands. Ron played ok in practice, but even the crowd at tryouts was a bit too big for him. Secondly, they were playing Slytherin, and Malfoy had been harassing Ron for days leading up to the match. Malfoy knew he'd play poorly if he didn't feel confident, so he made a point to remind Ron how many people would be watching the game, and tell him that he thought he was a rubbish player. Harry also had Hermione's warning to worry about. He caught a glimpse of the Slytherin badges, which read "Weasley is our king." That couldn't be good.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no." Ron was visibly shaking when he saw the huge crowd. Harry followed his eyeline up to the stands, and saw Hermione standing there cheering next to Luna and Neville. When she saw Harry and Ron look at her, she waved. Harry waved back, but Ron didn't.

She was the last reason for Ron's nerves. Harry looked over at his best friend, who was resting his hand on his cheek again, where Hermione had kissed him. He felt a jolt of frustration at Hermione for doing that. What might have seemed like a simple display of friendly affection and support did not have the desired result. She likely had no idea of the consequences of such an action.

Now Ron was not only nervous, but confused and self-conscious. He continued to look nervously into the crowd, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused, as if he was only partially existing in the present moment, with half his mind off wondering what in Merlin's name Hermione meant by that kiss.

Harry needed to bring him back to the present, before it was too late. "Ron."

Ron blinked and dropped his hand from his cheek. "What?"

"How are you doing?"

"Uh. Fine." He looked out over the pitch and his eyes widened at the size of the crowd. "Fuck. Sorry. I'm not fine."

"Just take a deep breath, pretend it's a practice and that no one is watching."

"I can't do that mate," said Ron nervously. "Look how many people are here. And Hermione's watching."

"Hermione has already seen you play," reminded Harry.

"Oh, right," said Ron. "But still."

Ron turned away from the crowd, which Harry thought was a very good idea. He followed. "You will do fine, Ron."

Ron nodded, clearly unconvinced. Then he brought his hand back to his face. "Why do you think she kissed me?"

Harry sighed. "For good luck, probably. I don't know!" Harry was certain that Hermione meant nothing by the kiss. If she had, she could have picked another moment to kiss him. Right before the first match was horrific timing.

"Yeah, but why?" pleaded Ron. "What did it mean?"

"It meant good luck," said Harry with a stiff jaw, hoping his annoyance didn't show through his tone. He was nervous too, and didn't want to spend his prep time reassuring Ron when he could be focusing on calming himself down for the game. "I'm sure she meant nothing else by it. Just forget it."

"She didn't kiss you though," said Ron.

"Yeah, well, I guess she doesn't think I need good luck, then," he responded, this time through gritted teeth.

Ron scowled at Harry. "She thinks I'm rubbish, doesn't she? Bloody hell Harry, I can't go out there!"

Damn it, thought Harry. "She doesn't. She's just affectionate, that's all. You know her." Harry sputtered for something else to say. "She kissed me last year, remember? At the train stop. It was also for good luck."

Ron's face paled into a stony expression as he recalled last year's goodbyes at the train station. "That's right isn't it," he said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "So you think she meant nothing by it?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Ron seemed to be slowly returning his focus to the present. If they had any chance at winning this match, Ron could not be distracted by a kiss.. "Yeah, she probably meant nothing. It was just your turn for a good luck kiss, so no need to read into it."

Ron's face remained pale and he nodded slowly. "Alright then. I'll just forget about it then," he muttered as he hauled his broom over his shoulder and brushed past Harry toward the rest of the team.

Good, thought Harry. He followed behind Ron until he reached the team huddle, where Angelina was beginning her pep talk. Harry snuck a glance at Ron, who was still wearing his blank expression, and avoiding eye contact with Harry as if he was angry at him.

It was possible that he was reading too much into Ron's expression, but he could help but notice the sudden tension between them, again. He did his best to ignore it as he turned back to face Angelina and the rest of his team.

-The Emotional Range of a Teaspoon-

"Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?" Hermione asked.

"No," said Ron and Harry together. Hermione sighed and laid down her quill.

"Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly." A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode." "Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione nastily, picking up her quill again."

"Who're you writing the novel to anyway?" Ron asked Hermione, trying to read the bit of parchment now trailing on the floor. Hermione hitched it up out of sight.

"Viktor."

"Krum?"

"How many other Viktors do we know?"

Ron said nothing, but looked disgruntled.

Harry peered over his essay at Ron, who was still scribbling rather angrily. A lot had just happened, and now that Hermione had gone to bed, he wanted to clear the air.

"You know, it wasn't all that great," said Harry. Ron looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "Snogging. Kind of weird actually."

"Ah. Well I wouldn't know," said Ron. "Never snogged anyone."

Harry shrugged. "Hermione didn't mean to make you feel bad, I'm sure she's guessing most of that stuff she said about Cho."

"Yeah maybe," said Ron as he scowled back at his essay. "But again, I wouldn't know, I don't have enough emotional range."

"Neither do I," shrugged Harry.

"Still managed to get a girlfriend, though."

Honestly, after tonight Harry felt quite unprepared for the emotional undertaking of dating Cho, but Ron wasn't the one to talk to about it. Maybe he could ask Hermione later.

"What do you think Vicky's emotional range is? A tablespoon?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, they're just pen pals, you heard her."

"But he's nineteen. What's he doing with a sixteen year old pen pal?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Hermione seems to enjoy writing him though, so just leave it alone."

"What do you think they talk about?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure they're not dating?"

"Hermione would have told us."

Ron squinted in thought. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes, we're her best friends."

"Why would she tell us, if we have the 'emotional range of a teaspoon'?" he said in air quotes.

Harry groaned. "She only said that about you, and she hasn't told me anything either." He immediately felt guilty when Ron grimaced at his words. "Ron, she doesn't know half the things you think. If you want her to think you're more emotional, then just talk to her more. About emotions and stuff."

"Emotional? I don't know if I want her to think I'm emotional. I just want her to think… I dunno what exactly." He shrugged.

"Suit yourself then."

"I just want to know what she talks to Vicky about."

"Viktor."

"Whatever."

There was a rather tense pause before Ron softly spoke up again. "Do you think they'll get each other presents for Christmas?"

"Maybe. Who cares anyway? So will we."

Ron scowled at Harry's answer, but Harry didn't care. He was suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety at the thought of getting Cho a present. He had no idea what she would be expecting.

"What are you getting her?" asked Ron shyly, interrupting his thoughts.

"Who?"

"Hermione- who else?"

"Oh." Harry hadn't thought about it, but the answer was obvious to him. "A book probably. You?"

Ron nodded, as if considering a book for a present. "I don't know. I wish I knew what Vicky was getting her."

"Viktor," Harry said without looking up.

I like "Vicky," replied Ron. "Makes him seem less… I dunno. Attractive."

Harry groaned. "I'm going to bed."

"Wait, no- I still need your advice."

Harry ignored him. He had more important things to deal with, like figuring out what Cho might be expecting for Christmas.

He heard Ron call after him when he turned up the stairs. "What should I get Hermione for Christmas?"

Harry didn't answer. Ron could figure that out for himself.

-Pippin's Perfumes-

Hermione didn't join the boys for their last trip to Hogsmeade before the Holidays. "I have too much homework, and so do you. You shouldn't have waited until the last minute to get your holiday shopping done, there was perfect opportunity last month-"

Harry was happy to escape her nagging for an afternoon. Exams were looming, and Hermione was falling back into her old patterns of revising constantly, and guilting anyone else who wasn't. It was the last thing Harry needed.

It also allowed Harry and Ron space to find her a present without her breathing down their necks. Harry suggested the bookstore- Tomes and Scrolls, and the pair spent the first half of their Hogsmeade trip looking at books.

"The one time Hermione doesn't come with us to Hogsmeade, and we're still in a bookstore," said Ron grumpily, as he flipped through a book about advanced knitting spells, before tossing it back on the shelf.

"Hey that's a good present for Hermione, you should get it," said Harry, reaching for the book. "She's been knitting a lot-"

"Exactly, and I don't want her to think I support it," said Ron as he eyed the book with disdain. "Dobby looks ridiculous in all those hats."

Harry shrugged. He thought Hermione would like it. "Then I will." Harry tossed the book in his bag, feeling relief that his gifts were all accounted for. The same couldn't be said about Ron. "She'll like anything, just pick something."

"No, it's gotta be good," said Ron, as he continued to scan the books. Ron had never given gift-giving too much thought. This year was very different- Ron was trying to compete with Viktor Krum's mystery gift, and it was clearly causing him quite a bit of stress. As amusing as it was to Harry, it was also starting to get on his nerves.

"What about this one? "Quidditch Basics For Spectators"?"

Ron laughed. "I think she'll be offended."

"How To Win at Wizards Chess." Harry held up another book.

"Nah, I'm keeping my secrets to myself."

"Men Who Love Dragons Too Much?"

"Not the message I'm trying to send," grinned Ron.

"What message are you trying to send?" asked Harry as he returned the book to its place.

"Not sure," shrugged Ron. "Maybe that I know her better than Krum."

Harry sighed. It was going to be a long day. "What about this one- The Big Book of Beauty Charms." Harry held up the book. "You know, because she's a girl."

"You're kidding mate," said Ron with raised eyebrows. "Too risky."

Harry nodded and tossed the book back onto the shelf.

"Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles," laughed Harry as he held up a new find. "No wait, this one. Hairy Heart: A Guide To Wizards Who Won't Commit."

"Take this seriously, mate," sighed Ron as he anxiously ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry," responded Harry..

The pair continued to scour the bookshelves for another hour, while Ron talked himself out of every purchase. By the time they arrived at the checkout counter, Ron was still empty-handed.

"Maybe I'll find something somewhere else," said Ron with a disappointed shrug.

"Maybe." Harry led the way back onto the High Street.

Harry and Ron continued down the road, toward the Three Broomsticks, when Ron stopped abruptly. "Have you ever been in here?"

Harry looked in the direction Ron was pointing, toward a shop called J. Pippin's Potions. "No, but they supply the school with Potions ingredients."

The sign in the window had caught Ron's attention.

The Holidays are here! Make your favorite witch smile with our new line- Pippins Perfumes! Unique concoctions just for her!

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "I dunno, just get her some new quills or something-"

But Ron hadn't waited for Harry's permission, he was already in the door. Harry groaned as he followed him into the shop.

"What can I do for you two?" The shop clerk was an older, jolly man with short fuzzy white hair, and gold glasses.

"Er, well, I just wanted to ask about your perfume potions, I guess."

"I see," said the clerk excitedly. "For your lady, I presume?"

Ron's face was boiling red. Harry occupied himself by staring at a jar of lacewing flies.

"Well, not really. Just a friend."

The clerk nodded slowly. "Peculiar present for a friend," he said as he shot Harry a curious look. Harry simply shrugged. "Very well then. Every perfume we make is unique to the witch, so I just have you answer a few questions about her."

Ron shifted awkwardly in place. "Um, sure," he said with a glance back at the door, as if wishing it were locked. "What do I need to answer?"

The clerk pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Well, first, what's her name? "

"Uh. Hermione. Granger."

"Her birthday?"

"September 19th," said Ron excitedly, as if he was trying to answer before another classmate.

"Great. What is her favorite color?"

"Light blue," Ron said confidently. Harry grinned at the specificity. It was the color of the dress robes she wore to the Yule Ball last year.

"And her favorite flavor?"

Ron thought for a second. "Peppermint."

The scribbling clerk looked up from his parchment. "Perfect. Her favorite animal?"

"Erm- I'm not completely sure," said Ron nervously. He glanced back at Harry for assistance, but Harry was busy pretending to study a pamphlet about the uses of Moonstone. "Maybe a cat," he said with a shrug. "Sorry I guess I don't know that one."

"Not a problem. What about her favorite season?"

"Uh, Winter. No- fall because that's when we start school. She loves school." Ron stammered.

"I'll just leave it blank if you're not sure?" said the shop clerk.

Defeated, Ron shrugged. "Yeah, I'm not sure."

"That's ok. And finally, just give me a few words that describe her." The clerk looked up through his gold spectacles.

"She's very intelligent."

Ron paused. The clerk looked up from the parchment. "Surely there's more?"

"Yeah uh, she's um.. argumentative."

"Okay," murmured the man as he wrote it down. "Another?"

"She's passionate. I guess."

"You guess?" said the shopkeeper with a chuckle. "How about one more."

Ron paused, clearly overwhelmed with the task of fitting Hermione's entire personality into four words. "Pretty," he continued in an almost-whisper.

Harry smirked to himself as he felt Ron glance nervously at him, as if he didn't want him to hear.

"Perfect," said the amused clerk. 'I can have this potion ready in an hour. Would you like to purchase it?"

"Yeah, sure," he said a little more confidently.

"I'm sure she will love it," reassured the clerk.

He was still tomato red when he called over to Harry, "Let's wait for it at the Three Broomsticks?"

Harry nodded. He was ready to get out of this store.

"Good luck," said the clerk sincerely as the two boys exited the shop.

"Erm, thanks. See you in a bit."

The boys walked in awkward silence toward the pub. It was a few minutes before Ron spoke up.

"Do you know what her favorite animal is?" asked Ron shyly. "Or her favorite season?"

"I reckon I don't," shrugged Harry. "Doesn't really come up in conversation much. Why?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. It sounded like I didn't know her very well."

Ron was able to answer more of those questions than Harry would have been. "You know lots of other things about her."

Ron nodded noncommittally. "Like how to get her pissed off."

"Well. Yeah." It was true, though. It took a close friend to understand exactly how to push the right buttons, and Ron knew exactly where Hermione's were.

"It's not a stupid present, is it?"

Harry shook his head, which seemed to be enough to reassure Ron. He didn't know how the gift would be received, but he was very curious to find out.

-Christmas at Grimmauld Place-

"Thanks for the book, Harry," [Hermione] said happily. "And that perfume's really unusual, Ron."

It was a bleak Christmas at Grimmauld Place, which was to be expected. Mr. Weasley was still in the hospital, and the headquarters of the Order of The Phoenix was a gloomy enough place, no amount of Mrs. Weasley's decorations and treacle tart could make it feel festive.

Hermione, who had initially planned to spend the holidays skiing with her family, was here as well. Much to Ron's excitement- and then nervousness- she had made an excuse to change plans with her parents. Ron was happy to see her initially, but his nerves took over when he realized he'd be there to see her open her present.

They had just gone up to bed after the holiday celebration, and were packing away their gifts. Ron dropped his homework planner and jumped when it spoke.

"Do it today, or later you'll pay!"

Ron snatched up the planner and shoved it into his trunk. Harry admitted it wasn't Hermione's best present, but Ron seemed to be taking that rather personally.

"She could have done better this year," grumbled Ron.

It sounded ungrateful, but Harry knew that he must have felt quite awkward. Ron and Hermione's gift exchange was quite unbalanced this year, and Hermione seemed as ungrateful for her present as Ron was for his.

"I don't need a bloody homework planner, that's what I have Hermione for." Harry reminded him that he got the same present, but was met with a glare from Ron. "Don't remind me."

Hermione hadn't really reacted positively to the perfume. When she sniffed it, she had made a little face, and called it 'unusual'.

"What do you think she meant by "unusual"?" asked Ron.

"I don't know, Ron. Unique."

Ron shook his head. "I should have just gotten her a book."

Harry refrained from reminding him about the hours they had spent in the bookstore during their Hogsmeade holiday shopping trip. "Next year."

Ron groaned. "You don't think she's reading too much into it, do you?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at his friend. "What exactly did you want her to read into it?"

"Nothing!"

"Nothing at all?" asked Harry with raised eyebrows.

"No."

"So just, a normal exchange of perfume between friends," said Harry.

Ron blushed but didn't say anything.

"It's fine Ron, she'll forget about it."

The boys busied themselves by preparing for bed, and Harry assumed the conversation had died when they settled under the covers of their respective beds and put the lights out.

"What do you think Vicky got for her?"

Harry sighed. He just wanted to go to bed. "I don't think he got her anything."

"Do you think she's writing to him right now, and making fun of my present?"

Harry groaned at the ridiculousness of it. "No, I don't." He didn't think she was giving it a second thought, but he didn't want to tell Ron this either.

"I should have just gotten her a book."

Harry didn't answer. He wasn't sure how Ron expected his gift to be received, but in his opinion, it definitely could have been worse. Regardless, Harry had bigger issues to deal with, and Ron would have to work this one out on his own.

-Valentine's Day-

"How did it go?"

Harry grunted. "Awful."

They were in the boys' dorm on the evening of Valentines day, and Harry had been dreading recounting his date with Cho to Ron.

"Did you snog?"

"Nope."

"Ahh. That bad, eh?"

"Yep."

Harry told him everything about the date, from the decorations at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, to Roger Davies' snogging exhibition, Cho's outburst about Cedric, and her accusations that Harry was cheating on her with Hermione. By the end of it, Ron was trying to stifle his laughter.

"It's not funny."

"It's a little funny. Is it over between you two?"

"I dunno," said Harry. "We didn't get to discussing that."

Reflecting on his date, Harry realized he wasn't sure if he even wanted to go out with Cho again. So much for the last eighteen months of pining after her…

"So why did you meet Hermione at the Three Broomsticks?" Ron asked cautiously.

"Ahh." Harry proceeded to explain everything about their meeting with Rita Skeeter and Luna.

Ron's eyes were wide when Harry finished. "So you're going to be in the Quibbler?"

Harry nodded.

"Brilliant! She's a genius."

Harry smiled. "Yeah." As reluctant as he was to the original idea, he was pretty excited for the Quibbler to release his interview.

"Then what did you do?"

"Who, me and Hermione?"

"Yeah," said Ron stiffly.

"Me, Hermione, and Luna just had drinks at the bar," said Harry, making sure to emphasize Luna's presence.

"Right,' said Ron, nodding. "I didn't mean to imply-"

"I know, I know." Harry didn't understand how Ron could still have ideas about him and Hermione. "What did you do?"

"I just hung out here with Neville. Played some Wizards Chess," said Ron. "Would have been nice to be asked to go to Hogsmeade though."

"It was a date, Ron," said Harry. "With my girlfriend. I couldn't exactly drag you along."

"Not asked by you, you git."

"Oh," replied Harry. "Well you could have asked to go with Hermione."

"Not on Valentines day!" stammered Ron.

"But you just said-"

"After what happened with the perfume? No way."

Harry groaned.

"What? Fuck being single on Valentines day," said Ron defensively.

"Well, now we both are. Let's just hope that your first relationship doesn't go as poorly as mine," laughed Harry. "Just practice for the next, I guess."

"You sound like Fred and George," said Ron.

Harry shrugged. "They seem to do alright."

Ron nodded. "But you're sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, I'm ok. At least next time I snog someone, I won't be completely rubbish at it," said Harry with a laugh.

"Right." Harry looked at Ron, who had suddenly gone pink.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. Just now I'm thinking about how I'll be rubbish at snogging."

Harry shrugged. "Well luckily, pretty much everyone our age is, I'm sure."

Ron nodded. "Everyone our age."

Harry regretted saying it as soon as he did. Viktor Krum was not their age, and was possibly very good at snogging.

"They're just friends, Ron."

"I know, I know," he replied. "There's no way Hermione would have snogged Krum, right?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe ask her?" he said, smirking.

Ron glared at him before shifting under his covers. "Git."

Harry laughed. He knew Ron tried to refrain from asking Hermione anything about Krum, either because he didn't want to know the answers, or he didn't want to seem jealous. It was probably a mix of both.

Harry's two best friends stayed front of mind as he tried to drift off to sleep. Ron had never actually admitted his feelings for Hermione to Harry, but at this point they weren't hard to assume. Hermione was a bit harder to read. Harry had no idea how she felt about Ron.

There was a part of Harry that worried what might happen if Ron did pluck up the courage to admit his feelings to Hermione, and they were unrequited. Would there be a permanent estrangement between the two? What would that mean for Harry? He shuddered as he remembered their row during third year.

He willed himself not to think about it- at least not yet. Based on Ron's current level of anxiety surrounding anything Krum or Hermione related, he likely had some time before Ron professed his love for their mutual best friend. There was no need to worry just yet.

-The Hospital Wing-

Harry and Ron were sitting opposite each other in the hospital wing, with Hermione sleeping in a bed between them. She had been unconscious for a few days, and Madam Pomfrey said she should be waking up any minute now.

Harry was ready for her to wake up, but dreaded having to explain everything that happened at the Ministry. He hoped she didn't ask too many questions about Sirius. He wasn't ready to answer them.

"We don't have to tell her everything right away. You know, when she wakes up."

Harry smiled gratefully. Ron seemed to read his mind.

Some time passed and Hermione still didn't wake up. Neither of the boys wanted to leave just in case she woke up while they were gone, so they sat there quietly. Harry didn't want to talk about Siriius, but every other topic felt insignificant. Eventually Ron broke the silence.

"Do you think we'll be able to go one year without any of us nearly dying?"

At this, Harry felt a pang of guilt. Hermione had tried to stop him from going to the Ministry, and he wished more than ever he had listened. If he had listened to her, she wouldn't be in the Hospital Wing, and Sirius would still be alive.

"Sorry," said Ron apologetically. I didn't mean-"

"It's ok. Let's just talk about something else."

Ron nodded.

Ron didn't continue, so Harry filled the silence with the only topic he could think of. "What's going on between you two?"

Ron stiffened and his ears turned red.

Harry sighed. "I've just never really asked, that's all."

Ron exhaled audibly and sat back in his chair. Harry looked up to see him studying Hermione, as if he wanted to be absolutely sure she was still unconscious before answering. "There's nothing." He looked back at Harry and shrugged.

"After last year at the ball, I figured something would happen with you."

"She was with Krum."

"Was?"

"Was. Still is. I'm not sure. I haven't actually asked her."

Harry had also neglected to ask. There were many times this year where he wondered about the state of their relationship, but for some reason always forgot to ask. "But the perfume?"

"Was a stupid gift."

There was a part of Harry that wanted to tell him to get over himself and tell Hermione he liked her. It couldn't be that hard, Harry managed to do it with Cho.

But another part of him wanted to preserve things the way they were now. As a trio. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Not Ron and Hermione, and sometimes Harry.

He also realized the stakes were much lower for him than for Ron. Harry had no preexisting friendship with Cho to lose by asking her out. Ron did. Ultimately, it was in Harry's best interest to stay quiet. At least for now.

"Plus," added Ron. "Look what she did to Marietta Edgecumbe's face."

Harry smiled, remembering a similar statement made last year about Rita Skeeter, and the year before that about Hermione punching Malfoy. "You have all these reasons not to piss her off, but you're still very good at it."

Ron smiled. "Yeah. I am."

As far as Harry knew, Ron and Hermione had managed to avoid a row this year. He wanted to think they had just grown up, but he knew it was because Ron was holding back. He hadn't made being his friend easy this year. He had definitely lost his temper on them a few times, yet they were still here, calling him their friend. Ron couldn't afford to rock the boat with Herrmione.

Harry was about to apologize for his behaviour over the past year, when Hermione began to stir.

"Hermione!"

Herrmione opened her eyes and took in her surroundings before attempting to sit up. "Ouch...What...what happened to me?" She winced and clutched at her side.

"Uh, we're not sure. You got hit with some spell. But you're ok!" Ron was beaming at her.

"Are you two alright?" croaked Hermione.

"Yeah, we're fine. Look at my brain scars." Ron held out his arms to her, showing off the swirly lines that now marked them. Hermione reached out to touch them.

"Do they hurt?"

"Oh yeah, loads. But I'll be ok," said Ron arrogantly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"We should really be concerned about the scars on your face though."

Hermione gasped and reached her hands to her face. "What?!" She winced as she quickly turned around to look in the mirror on her bedside table, only to discover nothing wrong with her face at all. "Ronald!"

She glared at Harry when she said it, as if it was his fault. Harry shrugged. He was not part of this…

Ron was laughing when Hermione brought up the dreaded topic. "So… what happened after I passed out?"

Harry froze. He didn't want to talk about it. Ron saw his panicked expression and jumped in to improvise.

"Later. First we need to ask you a few questions, to make sure there are no… you know… mental side effects. Madam Pomfrey asked us to."

Hermione scowled sceptically. "Okay…"

Committed to his act, Ron reached into his bag and pulled out a quill and some parchment. "First, What is your name?"

"Hermione. Ron what are you-"

"Birthday?"

"September 19th. I'm fine, Ron. I just want to know what happened."

"What's your favorite color?"

Hermione paused and thought about it. "Maroon."

"Really?" asked Ron. He scribbled into his parchment. "Well shit."

"Don't swear."

"Sorry. What about your favorite flavor?"

"Hmm. Probably peppermint. Why are we doing this?"

"Yes!" said Ron excitedly. "You got that one right!"

"I got all of them right, Ron." Hermione looked incredulously at Harry, who simply smiled at the pair.

"I'm really glad you're ok, Hermione." He stood up. "I'm going to let you two catch up. I need to sleep, if that's ok." She smiled and nodded at him as he turned to leave the hospital wing. A look from Ron reassured him that he would explain everything when Harry left, so Harry didn't have to.

As he walked toward the doors, he overheard as Ron continued his questioning. "Favorite animal?"

"Probably an otter."

"Really? An otter?"

"Yes. An otter.

"Alrighty then," said Ron.

How am I doing? Am I alright in the head?"

"Hermione, my results say that you're not ok. Completely mental actually. Better call Pomfrey…"

"Shut up, Ron."

Harry smiled to himself as the doors closed behind him. Ron would explain everything to her, in time.

Chapter Text

-The Effects of Phlegm-

"What's up with you?" Ron asked.

"It's her," said Ginny, plonking herself down on Harry's bed. "She's driving me mad."

"What's she done now?" asked Hermione sympathetically.

"It's the way she talks to me... you'd think I was about three!"

"I know," said Hermione, dropping her voice. "She's so full of herself."

Harry was astonished to hear Hermione talking about Mrs. Weasley like this and could not blame Ron for saying angrily, "Can't you two lay off her for five seconds?"

"Oh, that's right, defend her," snapped Ginny. "We all know you can't get enough of her."

"Arry! How very nice to see you."

Before Harry could protest, he was scooped up into a hug from his fellow Triwizard Tournament competitor, Fleur Delacour. She planted a kiss on his cheek and he felt his face heat up.

"Eetz been too long!"

It took a couple seconds for his face to cool down when she let go. "What are you doing here, Fleur?" Of course, he already knew what she was doing here- Ginny had just told him. But for a moment he seemed to forget.

She didn't have time to answer, nor did she need to. Her attention turned to Bill as he entered the room. "Harry, good to see you!" Bill gave a nod in Harry's direction, which Harry mechanically returned. "And hello, darling," he said as he embraced his fiance and met her with a passionate kiss.

Harry heard a grunt from the far side of the room, and looked over at his friends to see Ron glaring at his brother, and Hermione in turn, glaring at Ron.

"Honestly, Ronald."

Ron shook his head and looked around, as if he'd abruptly awoken from a daydream and didn't quite know where he was. "What?" he spluttered.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and turned to head up the stairs.

"You're so pathetic," said Ginny harshly, as she followed closely behind Hermione.

Later that night, Harry and Ron were sitting in the living room of the Burrow, playing Wizards Chess. The girls, including Fleur, had already gone to bed, and since her departure, Ron's focus had come back in full force.

"Checkmate."

Harry scowled at the chessboard. "How did you do that?"

Ron shrugged and smirked. "You'll never beat me, just admit it."

"I beat you two hours ago."

"Yeah, well. That didn't count," Ron's face turned a deep shade of crimson. "You know I can't focus around her."

"All the more reason to play when she's around."

Ron avoided Harry's gaze and began cleaning up the chess pieces. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Bloody hell, Harry, you know what I'm talking about. Don't make me explain it," said Ron in a tone of embarrassment.

Harry nodded. "I've spent more time around her. You know, during the tournament. You get used to her."

Ron put the newly packed-away chess set back on the side table and turned to look at Harry. "Do you think Hermione notices?"

"No, I don't," Harry lied.

Ron saw right through it. "She also beat me at Wizard's chess earlier, and she wasn't even excited about it."

"Well that doesn't sound like her at all. Maybe she's trapped under Fleur's charm too," joked Harry.

"Then she told me I was an insufferable idiot."

"Ok, nevermind," shrugged Harry. "She's fine."

"Shut up!" said Ron, through a grin. "But really. How do I stop acting like an idiot around Fleur."

"You'll get used to her," Harry assured him.

-Weasley's Wizard Wheezes-

"Why are they looking at those?" Ron was staring across the retail floor of his brothers' shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, toward Hermione and Ginny. They were huddled around a shelf of tiny heart shaped bottles, and Hermione was animatedly talking to Fred about them.

"Sorry-What are they looking at?" asked Harry. He wasn't quite paying attention, as he was busy admiring the grandeur of the twins' new business enterprise. He couldn't help but feel a smidgen of pride at his contribution to the effort. He turned his attention back to Ron. "Where?"

"Over there," Ron pointed at the two girls. "Love potions," he answered.

"Oh," said Harry, shrugging. "I don't know, they probably think they are amusing." Harry tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Hermione and Ginny examine the small, heart shaped bottles.

"Amusing?" asked Ron with raised eyebrows. "Don't you think love potions are the sort of thing that Hermione would be, I dunno, morally against?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but he's probably impressed by the magic. Just like she was with the daydream charms. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Ron appeared to not hear him. He was still staring as Hermione picked up one of the potions to examine the label. She was still talking to Fred animatedly.

Fred must have felt Ron's stare, as he turned his attention across the room to the two boys. He turned and approached them when he saw Ron glaring in his direction. Upon his departure, Ginny and Hermione continued their lively discussion.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, brother?" asked an amused Fred, once he was within earshot.

Ron looked up at his brother and nodded his head in the direction of the girls. "Just wondering why our sister needs a love potion."

Fred laughed. "Ginny? She doesn't. She has a line of blokes waiting on her." Harry looked down quickly, hoping neither of the Weasley brothers would see him wince at Fred's comment.

Ron didn't look any less concerned.

"So," Fred continued. "I'm not selling Ginny a love potion. If that's what you're concerned about."

"Oh. Ok then," shrugged Ron.

"Ok," Fred tossed a knowing look in Harry's direction, who grinned. "Anyone else you're worried about, little brother?"

Ron scowled at Fred before conceding. "Are you selling Hermione a love potion?"

"There it is!" said Fred with a laugh. "Maybe I am. Maybe she has a crush on someone."

Ron's face reddened and he looked away. Harry subtly shook his head at Fred, who returned an expression of understanding.

"She was just interested in them for the magic. No other reason. She doesn't want to buy or use one, she simply wanted to know how I made them."

Ron exhaled loudly and the color returned to his face. "Erm- I don't really care either way," he stammered.

"Whatever you say Ronniekins," said a grinning Fred, before he turned away, giving Ron a brotherly pat on his shoulder as he left.

-Amortentia-

Now, this one here . . . yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione's hand punched the air again.

"It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. Ir seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and -"

But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence.

Harry and Ron settled into their dorm for their second night back at Hogwarts. It had been an eventful day- Harry was still processing their Defense Against The Dark Arts lesson, and realized he'd have to accept the fact that this year, it might not be his favorite subject.

Potions, however, had potential. Harry and Ron both enjoyed Slughorn's lesson tremendously.

"Let me see it!" Ron held his hands open as Harry tossed him the bottle of Felix Felicis. "Brilliant. How are you going to use it?"

"Dunno yet," answered Harry. He had a few ideas, but none he was willing to share with Ron.

"That was the best potions lesson ever, mate," said Ron. "We might actually excel in it this year."

Harry nodded. He felt the same. The Prince's book, combined with Slughorn already favoring him, made for an enjoyable Potions experience. He'd never left the dungeon feeling so elated.

"I bet Slughorn would be impressed if he knew Hermione brewed Polyjuice Potion back in second year," said Ron.

"Yeah, but we can't tell him that," laughed Harry. "We could still get in trouble for that."

"I bet she's excited she actually got house points in Potions. That's never happened before. Not with Snape."

Harry nodded. As far as he knew, Hermione was still a little annoyed that she didn't win the Felix Felices, but for her, it wasn't about the prize as much as the prestige of beating everyone else. He smiled, enjoying the fact that for once, he beat Hermione at something.

"What did the love potion smell like for you?" asked Ron abruptly.

Harry wasn't expecting the question, and didn't want to give Ron a truly honest answer, as it might hint at feelings that Harry was only starting to become aware of.

"Treacle Tart, a new broomstick handle, and….. flowers," he said carefully. "Weird, huh?"

"Yeah," laughed Ron.

"What about you? What did you smell?"

"What? Oh. Um. Sugar quills, oak, and smokey vanilla."

Harry smiled. Of course. Sugar Quills. Ron liked anything involving sugar. Oak- the overwhelming scent of the Hogwarts library. And "smokey vanilla"- Harry wondered if it had a similar source to the floral scent he experienced from amortentia.

"Smokey vanilla?" asked Harry.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I dunno, it's a pretty specific description," said Harry.

"Well it's a specific scent," said Ron, but he didn't elaborate further. "What did Hermione say again?"

"Dunno, don't remember."

"Parchment, grass, and there was one more-"

Harry laughed as Ron recited the Amortentia scents that Harry had easily forgotten.

"What was the last one? She didn't say, did she?"

"I really don't know, Ron."

"Damn. I really want to know what it is. Aren't you curious?"

Harry smiled at Ron. Sure, he was somewhat curious about Hermione's amortentia, but he could think of at least one other person he was more curious about. The thought crossed his mind along with the image of a floral scented shampoo that lived in the bathroom at the Burrow.

Ron couldn't know about that though. At least not yet.

-Quidditch Trials-

Harry did his best to look neutral as he left the Quidditch pitch with an ecstatic Ron. After all, he didn't want anyone to think he let Ron on the team just because they were friends.

"Did you see that last save?" piped Ron. "I thought I was going to miss it. Tricky shot from Demelza."

Harry nodded as he picked up his pace to keep up with Ron. "You played well. Won the keeper spot fair and square."

"It's true, I played better than Mclaggen, that's for sure," Ron smiled back at Harry. "I saw him begging you for another go."

"Yeah," said Harry, recalling Mclaggen's sorry performance. "He did get a little aggressive when we called it."

"Hey! Hermione!"

Harry looked in the direction that Ron was waving to see Hermione pacing up the hill to catch up with them.

"Did you see my last save, Hermione?" asked Ron excitedly.

Hermione's expression was restrained. "Yes, I did, Ron," she answered noncommittally as she looked down at her feet.

Ron looked hurt. "Well, I played better than Cormac, anyway. He looked like a troll on a broomstick. Did you see that?"

Hermione continued to look at the ground, and her face went pink. "Yes, Ron. I suppose that's true," she said, a bit too casually.

Harry scowled at her and caught her gaze for a brief moment. Something did seem very off about Mclaggen toward the end of trials, and Hermione almost looked guilty. She shook her head hastily before looking away. Harry reminded himself to interrogate her later.

When they reached the castle doors, Hermione spoke up again. "I'm going to clean up before dinner. I'll meet you both in the Great Hall." She sped off in the other direction without another glance back at the pair.

"You'd think she didn't even watch," said Ron disappointedly. "I played so well, and she hardly congratulated me."

At that moment, a very confused Cormac McClaggen came lumbering into the castle, and nearly stumbled down the stairs. Harry studied his odd movements, and Hermione's guilty expression from before popped back into his mind. "Oh, I'm pretty sure she watched. Maybe a little too closely," muttered Harry so quietly that Ron didn't quite hear him.

"What?-"

But Ron was interrupted by the sound of a shrill voice. "Ron! You were brilliant!"

Lavender Brown had just appeared from the crowd of students trying to enter the Great Hall.

"You are an amazing player! I'm so happy you're on the team!" she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Ron's face blushed a deep red as he patted her on the back.

"Er- thank you!" he said. Harry thought he sounded rather pleased with himself.

When Lavender skipped off in the other direction, Harry turned to Ron and asked, "I didn't know you two were…friends."

"We aren't. Not really," he shrugged and the pair made their way to the Gryffindor table to find their seats. "But I appreciate her telling me how brilliantly I played," Ron added with an air of annoyance. "Unlike some people."

"Hermione's just distracted, that's all." Harry had a suspicion that her lack of enthusiasm had more to do with guilt than anything. He looked back at Mclaggen, staring dumbfoundedly at the four tables, as if he was trying to remember what house he was in. There was no doubt remaining in Harry's mind that he'd been jinxed.

"She's always distracted by something," Ron muttered, staring at his food with a look of disdain.

A loud giggle from down the table drew Ron out of his self-pity, and he glanced down to see Parvati and Lavender whispering excitedly together. When Lavender saw Ron looking in her direction, she gave him a shy wave and blushed, before erupting into giggles again.

Ron turned back to Harry looking rather smug.

-Hogsmeade-

"Harry, that's three of my little suppers you've missed now!...Now, how about Monday night?"

"I can't, Professor, I've got - er - an appointment with Professor Dumbledore that evening." "Unlucky again!" cried Slughorn dramatically. "Ah, well . . . you can't evade me forever, Harry!"

And with a regal wave, he waddled out of the shop, taking as little notice of Ron as though he had been a display of Cockroach Clusters.

"I can't believe you've wriggled out of another one," said Hermione, shaking her head. "They're not that bad, you know. . . They're even quite fun sometimes. . . ." But then she caught sight of Ron's expression. "Oh, look - they've got deluxe sugar quills - those would last hours!"

Glad that Hermione had changed the subject, Harry showed much more interest in the new extra-large sugar quills than he would normally have done, but Ron continued to look moody and merely shrugged when Hermione asked him where he wanted to go next. 

Ron was still scowling when the trio settled into their booth at the Three Broomsticks, although the sight of the fanciable barmaid cheered him up a little.

"Three butterbeers for you," said Madam Rosmerta as she placed their drinks on the coasters in front of them.

"Thank you Rosmerta!" said Ron a little too excitedly, as Hermione nearly choked on her drink.

"Control yourself, Weasley, you'd think she was a veela," said Hermione in a stiff tone.

"What?" said Ron defensively. "I was just being polite."

"Mmm hmm," responded Hermione smugly as she took another careful sip of her butterbeer.

"Sorry, I guess I just don't get out much to socialize these days," said Ron with an eyeroll. "You know, I'm not invited to any parties like you are."

"Granger!" Cormac Mclaggen had just spotted Hermione, and was quickly approaching their table. "Will I be seeing you at Slughorn's dinner on Monday?" he asked as he casually leaned against the wall behind Hermione's chair.

Harry felt his stomach sink. He still hadn't really spoken to Mclaggen since Quidditch trials, although things remained tense between them. He seemed to have overcome Hermione's confundus charm, and based on his flirtatious demeanor, he had no idea what she had done.

Hermione's face went instantly red. "Um... yeah. I should be there," she replied nervously, She was clearly not expecting a conversation with Cormac.

"Great. I look forward to it. I'll save you a seat right next to me," he said with a wink before turning away. "Hey Potter" he greeted curtly on his way back to his table, ignoring Ron completely.

"What was that about?" asked Ron accusingly.

"I honestly don't know," said Hermione with a shrug.

"Oh come off it," spluttered Ron. "Have all those cozy dinners in Sluggy's office made you fancy Mclaggen?"

"No! Ron, I think he's vile. Stop making disgusting assumptions."

"Right, you seemed quite nervous for him to talk to you so, excuse me for making assumptions."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but then closed it again, clearly at a loss for what to say. Harry knew her nervousness to chat with Mclaggen had nothing to do with fancying him, and everything to do with having confunded him at Quidditch, but neither of them could tell Ron that.

"I don't fancy him Ron, I can't believe you'd even think that," she said before draining the rest of her butterbeer. "I'm going to the loo."

Hermione roughly placed her glass down on the table and stood up. Harry noticed she took the long route to the girls bathroom, avoiding the table which held Cormac and his friends.

"What do you think that was about?" asked Ron.

Harry grasped desperately for a topic to divert to, but realized that changing the subject might add suspicion. Unfortunately, he couldn't reveal the true reason Hermione was so awkward around him.

"You don't think she fancies him, do you?"

"No, I don't."

Ron's eyes went wide. "Remember the love potion at Fred and George's shop? You don't think-"

"No, Ron," Harry interrupted. "She doesn't fancy him at all. Trust me."

"Has she told you that?"

"Well… no. Hermione doesn't really talk to me about things like that. But I'm positive that she doesn't fancy him. She called him vile."

Ron scowled. "You don't think he's gonna try anything at Slughorn's dinner, do you?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. She can handle herself though."

"I don't know," said Ron, eyeing Mclaggen across the room. "He's a big bloke."

"And Hermione's great at magic. She'd hex him." She already did, he thought to himself.

Ron nodded, seeming to agree. He took a long swig of his butterbeer, draining the contents of his glass before slamming it down on the table. "I really wish I could go," he added sadly.

"I know," said Harry consolingly.

At that moment, Hermione reappeared to her seat, noting their solemn expressions. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Ron. "Let's get back to the castle."

The trio adorned their coats and scarves before making their way toward the exit doors. Harry saw Ron shoot a glare back toward McClaggen's table on their way out, completely missing the beautiful barmaid passing by.

Unfortunately, Rosmerta's passing and Ron's ill-timed head turn didn't escape Hermione's attention. "Really, Ron?"

"What?"

"Stop staring at her, it's rude."

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron lamely.

Hermione simply rolled her eyes and sped off ahead of them, into the frozen rain. Ron caught Harry's gaze and shrugged. Harry kept his mouth shut, hiding a grin as the pair set off to follow Hermione back to Hogwarts Castle.

-The Invitation-

"Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come."

Harry groaned. Meanwhile, Ron, who was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up, and squashing it as hard as he could, said angrily, "And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?"

"Just for the Slug Club, yes," said Hermione.

"'Slug Club,'"repeated Ron with a sneer worthy of Malfoy. "It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug —"

"We're allowed to bring guests," said Hermione, who for some reason had turned a bright, boiling scarlet, "and I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!"

"You were going to ask me?" asked Ron, in a completely different voice.

"Yes," said Hermione angrily. "But obviously if you'd rather I hooked up with McLaggen..." There was a pause while Harry continued to pound the resilient pod with a trowel.

"'No, I wouldn't,'" said Ron, in a very quiet voice.

Harry found Ron and Hermione in the common room later that evening, quietly working on their Herbology homework. He sat down in an armchair next to Ron.

"Hey Harry, I was just about to head up to bed," said Hermione as she slipped her book back into her bag. She wished both Harry and Ron a good night and left for the stairs.

Harry waited until she was out of earshot before leaning over and asking, "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Ron shook his head. "No, you didn't. I was just planning on talking to her about the party."

"Ahh. I see."

"Wanted to make a plan."

Harry nodded.

"She did ask me to go with her, right?" asked a concerned Ron.

"Well, yeah. She did. I think," sad Harry. Now that he mentioned it, Hermione was rather vague in asking him.

"I just can't tell how she meant it."

"Why don't you ask her?"

Ron shrugged. "I was hoping she'd bring it up just now but she didn't. Do you think she meant it as a date?"

Harry had noticed a shift in their relationship. He'd been aware of Ron's feelings for Hermione for quite some time, but up until recently, he wasn't sure if they'd be reciprocated. There were a few things that hinted that they would.

For one, Hermione couldn't stand it when Ron paid attention to other women. Like Fleur- Harry had his fair share of googly-eyed moments around the veela, but Hermione didn't bat an eye at those. However when Ron fell under her enchantments, her response was notable. She became snappish and moody. Back at the burrow, she even beat a distracted Ron at chess and wasn't even excited about her win. It happened again at the Three Broomsticks when Madam Rosmerta caught Ron's eye. She immediately diverted Ron's attention back to her by bickering with him.

There was the fact that she confunded Mclaggen during keeper tryouts so Ron could get on the Gryffindor team. Evidently, she cared enough about him to risk expulsion. Harry had a hard time imagining that Hermione would be willing to do something like that for anyone else.

When she asked Ron to the party back in Herbology class, she didn't call it a date. She didn't specify that she meant it more than friends, but she only asked when Ron brought up Mclaggen in reference to a date. It seemed likely that Hermione meant it that way, but Harry could understand Ron's confusion.

Ron interrupted Harry's train of thought. "So… how do you think she meant it?"

The stakes were too high for Ron to see it objectively and Harry knew that answering affirmatively would do nothing to ease Ron's anxiety.

"You should really ask her," was all he could give.

"You're no help," said Ron, before packing up his homework and heading for the dorm.

-Snogging-

"Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Auntie Muriel -"

"Shut your mouth!" bellowed Ron, bypassing red and turning maroon.

"No, I will not!" yelled Ginny, beside herself. "I've seen you with Phlegm, hoping she'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, it's pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!"

Ron had pulled out his wand too; Harry stepped swiftly between them.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron roared, trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was now standing in front of her with his arms outstretched. "Just because I don't do it in public - !"

Ginny screamed with derisive laughter, trying to push Harry out of the way.

"Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of AuntieMuriel stashed under your pillow?" You -

A streak of orange light flew under Harry's left arm and missed Ginny by inches; Harry pushed Ron up against the wall.

"Don't be stupid -"

"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. "And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"

And with that, she stormed away. Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous.

Ron was quiet for most of their walk back to the Gryffindor common room, and Harry didn't have much desire to talk either. He was wrestling with his own feelings of jealousy and confusion following Ron and Ginny's argument.

Seeing Ginny snog Dean had ignited something for Harry, and as much as he wanted to believe that it was brotherly protectiveness, he knew it wasn't.

"Do you think she really did snog Krum?" asked Ron.

Harry didn't want to talk about this, as his mind was occupied by his jealousy. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell Ron that, so he played along. "Well, they did hang around quite a bit in fourth year, so I suppose it's possible. It was two years ago, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

Ron scowled at Harry. "If it's true, Hermione lied to me."

"What?"

Ron continued in a stiff voice. "I asked her about Krum last year, and she said nothing ever happened between them."

Harry shook his head. It didn't seem like Hermione to lie about that. "Maybe Ginny doesn't really know what she's talking about."

Ron shrugged. "She's right about me, though. Never snogged anyone."

"It's really not much to write home about," said Harry awkwardly. "Not sure what all the hype is for." It was a lie- there's little he wouldn't do to be in Dean's place, snogging Ginny, but mentioning that particular detail wouldn't exactly be helpful at the moment.

"You don't get it, do you?" Ron said angrily.

Harry shrugged, defeated. He thought he understood. He felt similarly, maybe even worse, having witnessed Dean and Ginny snogging, after all. Ron couldn't say the same about Hermione. "You're upset about Hermione snogging Krum."

"No! Well, yes," sighed Ron. "You know it's more complicated than that."

Harry did, but hearing Ron eloquently voice what's upsetting him was beyond his expectations. "I suppose so." At that very moment, Ron suddenly detoured off down a deserted corridor, into an empty classroom. "Where are you going?"

"I don't want to go back to the common room," he said quietly. "You can go without me."

"We'll just go straight to the dorms. We won't see Hermione, if that's what you're concerned about."

"I just need a minute," Ron said with a little more force.

"Ok," said Harry. "I'll stay with you."

Ron sat down at a desk, buried his face in his hands, and groaned. "I just don't want to see Dean either. Or Seamus. Or anyone who now knows I haven't snogged anyone."

Harry sat down across from him. "Sure. But if it makes you feel any better, they probably don't care."

The pair sat there in silence for a few moments before Harry spoke up, asking the question he knew he shouldn't ask.

"Why does it upset you so much? That Hermione snogged Krum. It was two whole years ago, and if she didn't tell you, it probably didn't mean anything."

Ron sighed, looking as if he was holding back tears. When he answered, it sounded like a lot of effort was required to hold his voice steady.

"Well, partly because out of us three, I'm the only one who hasn't snogged anyone. But that's not all of it."

"Figured as much," said Harry with a nod.

"Also because it's Viktor Krum," he said with an air of malignance. "He probably showed her a good time. I can't imagine he's bad at snogging."

Harry couldn't argue with Ron there. Something like that would take a hit out of his confidence too. "But she chose not to be with him. She was the one who only wanted to be friends-"

"That's exactly it, though. She rejected him. Those are some high standards if you ask me."

Harry thought Viktor Krum was a great guy, but he wasn't Ron. As far as Harry knew, that was the only reason Hermione didn't want him. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell Ron that without it sounding like placation.

Ron continued. "I'm mostly angry that she lied about it. She told me nothing happened, and I don't know why she would lie." Ron leaned his face back into his hands and groaned. "I thought we were closer than that. I thought she respected me more."

There was a part of Harry that wanted to believe that Hermione lied because she had feelings for Ron, and she knew how insecure he'd feel if he knew the true scope of her relationship with Krum. Another part of Harry just wanted to believe she never lied in the first place. He badly wanted to believe it for Ron's sake.

"Maybe it's Ginny who lied," said Harry hopefully. "It really could be. She must have known that would bother you."

Ron shook his head. "I doubt it. She has even less reason to lie. And she knows nothing about how I feel about Hermione. If she did, Hermione would know too."

Fair enough, thought Harry.

Ron went quiet, and scowled as though trying to figure out how to explain his feelings better. "I tell Hermione everything." He looked at Harry. "Except… well you know."

Harry nodded.

Ron smiled in appreciation of the fact that he didn't need to be more articulate with Harry. "I just trusted that I knew as much about her as she did about me." He looked sheepishly at Harry. "Does that make any sense?"

Harry shrugged. "I think so."

"I don't think it justifies being this upset though."

Harry laughed. "I'm not one to talk," he said, which earned him a grin from Ron. "On the bright side, you're going to Slughorn's party with Hermione, so soon enough this whole conversation might be forgotten-"

"Fuck," interrupted Ron. "I forgot about Slughorn's party." He groaned again, rubbing his temples. "I can't go with her now."

"Wait, what?"

"She definitely asked me just as a friend. There's no doubt."

"Ron, I really don't think she did."

"The girl who snogged, then rejected Viktor Krum? I was stupid to think she meant it as more."

"Ron-"

"I'll have to make up an excuse or something."

Harry signed. Slughorn's party would be the perfect opportunity for them to take their relationship to another level. "Ron, there will be butterbeer, firewhiskey, and mistletoe. Why would she ask you as a friend? It isn't the kind of party you ask just a friend to, and Hermione knows that."

For a moment, Ron looked hopeful. But then his face reddened again. "It's a bloody awful idea, what was I thinking?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's see. I'll be so nervous that I'll get drunk, then lose control and snog her under the mistletoe, and she'll think I'm a disgusting pig because the only person she has ever snogged- that I know of," he added disdainfully, "is Viktor Fucking Krum."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Ron cut him off.

"I'm such an idiot! She invited me because she feels bad for me, didn't she?"

"No, she didn't-"

"I shouldn't have spent so much time talking about how I never get invited anywhere. I shouldn't have told her that I've never snogged anyone. I really told her that, by the way, when we talked about Krum. How stupid was I? I shouldn't have said that I thought I was rubbish at Quidditch. or told her anything personal about me at all."

"Ron-"

"All this time I thought she was relating to me, she was really just pitying me."

"That's not true," interjected Harry helplessly.

"And how do you fucking know? You know less about her than I do, which is saying a lot, because apparently I know nothing."

Harry had no response.

"We don't know her at all, mate. But Ginny knows her. Viktor Krum knows her." Ron's voice shook on the last few words.

"Let's go to bed." Harry took a chance and stood up, walking toward the door. Luckily Ron followed. "Why don't you take it up with her tomorrow. Sleep on it? You'll feel better."

Ron shook his head. "I'm so angry with her."

Of all the emotions that Ron expressed today, this was the first one that felt unreasonable.

"Mad at her? Why?" asked Harry, a little too forcefully.

Ron scowled at him. "I just told you!" he answered dumbfoundedly. "For pitying me."

"She's not pitying you."

In all honesty, he wasn't thrilled about his friends dating, but he would accept it if it happened. It was a long time coming, and he was mentally prepared for it.

What he wouldn't accept was another row between them. That better not happen.

"Just… sleep on it before talking to her, will you?"

Ron merely shrugged as the boys ventured back toward the common room.

Well, fuck, thought Harry.

-The Placebo Effect-

A few minutes later Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behavior that she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.

"How are you both feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron's head.

"Fine," said Harry, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."

Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply.

"Don't drink that, Ron!"

Both Harry and Ron looked up at her.

"Why not?" said Ron.

Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes.

"You just put something in that drink."

"Excuse me?" said Harry.

"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink.

You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket.

"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!" Hermione said again, alarmed, but Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one gulp, and said, "Stop bossing me around, Hermione."

She looked scandalized. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed, "You should be expelled for that. I'd never have believed it of you, Harry!"

"Look who's talking," he whispered back. "Confunded anyone lately?"

She stormed up the table away from them. Harry watched her go without regret. Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was. He then looked around at Ron, who was smacking his lips.

Harry and Ron were on their way down to the Quidditch pitch for their first game against Slytherin, and Ron, having believed his pumpkin juice was spiked with had a new swagger of confidence that Harry found rather amusing.

"Look at this weather!" he said excitedly. "Perfect conditions. And Malfoy's not even playing."

Harry nodded. "What great luck."

The crowd had already congregated around the Quidditch pitch. The stands were a sea of green and red, with even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws taking sides.

"Looks like a lot more red than green!" said Ron. "I can even see Luna's giant lion head."

Harry squinted up at the stands. Luna's lion was hard to miss. Harry noticed she was seated between Neville and Hermione.

Apparently Ron noticed too. "I don't know why she even bothers to come to the games, she doesn't even care about Quidditch."

"She cares about us, though," said Harry as a wave of guilt enveloped him. Hermione had been dealing with Ron's rude behavior ever since his confrontation with Ginny. Harry couldn't tell her exactly why Ron was acting up, so he kept making up excuses for him. He told her that he was stressed about classes, exams, or Quidditch, but he knew that didn't fully explain it. Hermione had become increasingly hurt and confused in response to Ron's behavior, and Harry's snappish remarks with her this morning didn't help.

"Doesn't show it very well," Ron muttered. "Not exactly supportive, is she?"

"Well. She's here, even after we told her off," said Harry in Hermione's defense. "She didn't have to come and watch, did she?"

Ron shrugged. "I guess not," he replied as he squinted into the stands. Hermione caught their eyes and offered a supportive wave. Harry waved back, but Ron didn't. "She really needs to mind her own bloody business. I hate how she needs to meddle in everything," he said as he turned into the changing room.

Harry felt a flash of annoyance toward his best friend, and made a mental reminder to apologize to Hermione later. Hermione hadn't done anything wrong. Harry hoped that winning the match would lighten Ron up enough to put their little row behind them. And beyond that, Harry hoped that an afterparty with free-flowing butterbeer would build up Ron's courage enough to talk to her about it.

They would make up soon, Harry was sure of it.

-After the Match-

Ron and Harry were the last two in the changing room. They were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined. "I want a word with you, Harry." She took a deep breath. "Yon shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Ron. "What are you two talking about?" asked Harry, turning away to hang up his robes so that neither of them would see him grinning, "You know perfectly well what we're talking about!" said Hermione shrilly. "You spiked Rons juice with lucky potion at breakfast! With Felix Felicis!"

"No, I didn't," said Harry, turning back to face them both.

"Yes you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!"

"I didn't put it in!" said Harry, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. "I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." He looked at Ron. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."

He pocketed the potion again.

"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" Ron said, astounded. "But the weather's good. . . and Vaisey couldn't play. ... I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?"

Harry shook his head. Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice. "You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!"

"I never said you couldn't - Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!"

But Ron had already strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.

"Er," said Harry into the sudden silence; he had not expected his plan to backfire like this, "shall. . . shall we go up to the party, then?"

"You go!" said Hermione, blinking back tears. "I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done. . . ."

And she stormed out of the changing room too.

"Well, now we know what she really thinks," muttered Ron.

Harry had just met back up with him in the Gryffindor Common Room. The post-match party was just getting started, and Ron was almost done with his first butterbeer. Hermione was nowhere to be found. He had tried to follow her but she insisted she wanted to be alone, and he hadn't seen her since.

"And what's that?" asked Harry.

"She thinks I'm a rubbish player." Ron took another big gulp of his butterbeer. "I had a great game, and she couldn't believe her eyes. She thinks it had to be Felix, not me."

"In her defense, I made it look like I put potion in your drink."

"Not the point, Harry," said Ron. "She wouldn't be suspicious if she saw Viktor play well."

Harry shook his head. "True." He wanted to remind him that she wouldn't, simply because he's a professional Quidditch player, but he knew it would just make things worse. "Look. She just didn't want you to get in trouble. She would have never been suspicious of you if she didn't see me put potion in your drink."

Ron threw back the remainder of his butterbeer. "She doesn't want me to get in trouble. She's just trying to keep me in line, like I'm a fucking child or something."

Harry was getting annoyed again. "Well at least now you know that you can play like that without lucky potion. And regardless of what Hermione thought before, she now knows that too." It was a poor attempt to get Ron to see the situation differently, and Harry knew that. "She was impressed."

"Oh shut up," said Ron.

He obliged, and the boys fell into a tense silence. Harry stared at the portrait hole door, hoping Hermione would come through soon so he could apologize to her, and hopefully smooth things over with Ron.

"Ron!" Harry nearly jumped at the loud high pitched voice. "Congratulations!"

Lavender was skipping through the crowd toward Ron. Parvati had conveniently dropped away into the throng of partying Gryffindors. Harry was thankful for that, because he had hardly spoken much to Parvati since their disastrous date back in fourth year.

"Thanks Lavender," said Ron. Harry looked over to see that he was blushing. Lavender didn't hesitate before throwing her arms around his neck. He cautiously returned the hug, placing his stiff arms around her waist. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"I always knew you could play like that!" she said, before boldly planting a kiss on his cheek, and the skin under her lips turned a bold crimson.

"Erm- thank you!" said Ron smugly.

Lavender pulled away from him and smiled. "I'd love to hear more about the match. From your perspective. You know, I don't play and I always wonder what it's like to be up there."

Harry suddenly felt like he had intruded on something rather private, and he did not like it. He could think of at least one other person who wouldn't like it either. Harry tried to catch Ron's attention to pull him off this dangerous route, but was unsuccessful.

"You want to talk about Quidditch?" asked Ron skeptically.

"Yes please," said Lavender. "At least at first," she added flirtatiously. Ron grinned at her, and the color of his face turned even redder.

"Ron-" Harry interrupted, but he was silenced by a wave of Ron's hand.

"What are you drinking tonight, Lavender?" asked Ron.

Lavender held out her cup. "Cherry wine. It does the trick. It gave me the confidence to kiss your cheek just now," she said with a smile. "I finished it off though."

"I'll get you some more," Ron said as he took her cup from her. "And I'll meet you back by the fireplace so we can… talk about Quidditch," he added with a wink.

Beaming, Lavender skipped over toward the fireplace to await her refill. Harry followed Ron to the drink table.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm going to talk to a pretty girl about Quidditch," he said with a shrug. "Simple."

"But if Hermione sees-"

"Hermione's not here. And she wouldn't want to talk about Quidditch." Ron narrowed his eyes at the drink table, contemplating what to get. He decided on a second cup of butterbeer. "So, fuck her," he added in a mutter.

Harry stood back, affronted. "You've upset her enough this week, don't you think?"

Ron shook his head. "So? A beautiful girl wants to talk about Quidditch with me." His emphasis on the words signaled to Harry that he knew it was code for more. "It'll be nice to get some compliments instead of a lecture for a change." Ron glanced back at Lavender, and added in a whisper, "Maybe I'll actually get lucky. No Felix necessary." Ron added a few shots of Firewhisky to his butterbeer before refilling Lavender's cherry wine.

"Are you serious, Ron? Hermione will be back any minute, just talk to her," pleaded Harry. "Just wait a few minutes, she'll want to talk to you."

Ron looked down at the two cups in his hand. "You know what Harry? I really don't think Hermione likes cherry wine." With a final smug look, Ron turned and made his way back toward the fireplace where Lavender was waiting for him. Harry watched as Ron sat down next to her on the sofa, and she turned to him eagerly.

Harry spent the next few minutes of the party half-heartedly engaging his peers in conversations about the match, without sharing any excitement. He kept one eye on the portrait hole, hoping that Hermione wouldn't come back anytime soon.

But eventually, the door opened and Hermione reentered. Harry noticed her eyes were red and bloodshot, as if she had been crying. She spotted Harry and sent him a friendly smile. Then her eyes narrowed as she looked questioningly around him.

"Where's Ron?" she mouthed in Harry's direction.

All Harry could do was shrug. He didn't dare look toward Ron, in case he and Lavender had surpassed talking about when Hermione's eyes traveled toward the fireplace, her shocked and hurt expression confirmed everything he dreaded. Harry followed her gaze to find that Ron and Lavender were no longer talking about Quidditch, but locked in an embrace on the sofa. Without hesitation, Hermione turned sharply toward the portrait hole and stormed out of the common room.

"Damn it," muttered Harry to himself, before following Hermione out the door.

Thank you for reading! Part two coming soon! -Be11a

Chapter Text

-The Canary Incident-

"The door behind them burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.

"Oh," he said, drawing up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.

"Oops!" said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. The door swung shut behind her.

There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness, "Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!"

Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.

"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she said quietly. "She'll wonder where you've gone."

She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.

"Oppugno!" came a shriek from the doorway.

Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.

"Gerremoffme!" he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he heard a sob before it slammed."

When Harry entered the dorm later that night, he was surprised to find Ron alone, on his bed, rubbing dittany on the scratches on his arms.

"Oh," said Harry. "I wasn't expecting you."

Ron scowled at him. "Why? Where else would I be?"

"Well, I figured you'd be off snogging Lavender somewhere."

"I wish," scoffed Ron as he popped the cork back into his bottle of dittany. "Unfortunately, getting attacked by birds kind of ruined the moment." He put the bottle back in his bag, and examined the cuts on his arms. "Do you think this will scar?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "Couldn't tell you. Never been attacked by canaries before," he said as he sank onto his own bed. Harry leaned up against the headboard and looked at Ron out of the corners of his eyes. "Never pissed a girl off that much, to be honest."

Ron ignored him. "Why on earth would she do this?" asked Ron softly, likely to himself.

Harry knew his question was rhetorical, but he answered anyway. "You know."

Ron looked up at Harry through his fringe. "What do I know?"

"Why she would do that," he said, motioning at Ron's arms.

"And why's that?"

"You said it yourself. It ruined the moment."

There was a pause as Ron took in his words. "What are you saying."

"Don't play dumb, Ron."

"I'm not."

Harry laughed. "Ok. Let me ask you one. Why did you kiss Lavender in the middle of the common room where anyone could see you?"

"Because I wanted to," said Ron firmly, as if that was a sufficient answer.

"Ok," said Harry. "Why did you want to? Did you want Hermione to see?"

Ron was silent.

"You spent the last few weeks convincing yourself that Hermione doesn't have feelings for you. I think you kissed Lavender to get a reaction from Hermione. Otherwise, you would have gone somewhere more private."

"Yeah well," muttered Ron. "What do you know?"

"I don't know anything I didn't know before. But I hope you learned something tonight."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Ron was clearly frustrated now, and Harry couldn't help but think Ron had been expecting a cheer and a pat on the back for landing himself a new snogging partner, but Harry wasn't going to give that to him after he spent the last few hours consoling Hermione in an empty classroom.

"You got a reaction. And if there was any doubt in your mind whether Hermione has feelings for you, then I hope you got your answer."

Ron let out a harsh laugh. "The only question that was answered tonight is whether or not Hermione is completely mental."

Harry shrugged. "Well we both knew that already.."

"Yeah, we did," sighed Ron. Harry glanced over to see that he was looking solemnly down at the bed covers. "I wish she would have been clearer," he muttered. When Harry shot a pointed look at him he clarified, "before the canaries."

"Would that have changed anything?"

Ron shrugged. "Probably."

The boys sat in silence together, so much unspoken between them. Harry now knew he was naive to think that Ron and Hermione admitting their feelings to each other would be a smooth process. He couldn't tell if Ron was regretting his decisions tonight, or if he even realized how much of a hole he had dug for himself. But in one way, he was right. Hermione could have been clearer. Unlike Hermione, Lavender didn't leave her intentions up to interpretation.

"So…," said Harry to break the silence. "How was it?"

"Huh?" said Ron, clearly lost in thought. "Sorry, how was what?"

"The snogging," Harry clarified.

Ron's face turned pink as he replied, "Oh. It was fine, I guess."

Harry laughed. "I told you. Not much to write home about."

"It's a little weird actually," Ron said, now grinning. "Kind of gross."

Harry nodded.

"But for some reason I want to keep doing it."

That was a great way of describing it, Harry thought to himself. "Right. Because it's weird, kind of gross, but still fun, for some reason."

"Exactly," laughed Ron.

Harry looked over at his best friend, who was still blushing even though his face had fallen into a frown. "What do you reckon will happen with Lavender?"

"I think that's up for you to decide," said Harry cautiously.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"How did you leave it?" asked Harry. "Tonight, I mean."

"Well, I told her I was going to clean up these bird bites. And then she kissed me and said she'll see me tomorrow," he shrugged.

"So you're going to see her again?"

"I guess," he said. "I mean, Hermione's not talking to me, so what's the harm?"

Harry grimaced at the thought of their estrangement lasting any longer than necessary. "Depends on how long you want that to last."

Ron groaned. "I don't know Harry, maybe this is a good thing," he said. When Harry looked at him questioningly, he added, "don't you think I deserve to be with someone who doesn't attack me with birds?"

He had a point. "She was just really hurt, Ron."

Ron looked down at his arms, which were still red and splotchy, even though the dittany had made some progress in healing them. "So am I. Now we're even."

Harry groaned. "You two drive me insane. Just promise me you'll try to talk to her? Get back on good terms? Lavender or no Lavender?" Harry didn't want to be stuck between them again.

"Sure mate," said Ron. "I'll try, but if I get attacked again, that's on you."

-Confronting Ron-

"It now seemed impossible that Ron and Hermione would make up with each other before the holidays began, but perhaps, somehow, the break would give them time to calm down, think

better of their behavior...

But his hopes were not high, and they sank still lower after enduring a Transfiguration lesson with them both the next day. They had just embarked upon the immensely difficult topic of human transfiguration; working in front of mirrors , they were supposed to be changing the color of their own eyebrows. Hermione laughed unkindly at Ron's disastrous first attempt, during which he somehow managed to give himself a spectacular handlebar mustache; Ron retaliated by doing a cruel but accurate impression of Hermione jumping up and down in her seat every time Professor McGonagall asked a question, which Lavender and Parvati found deeply amusing and which reduced Hermione to the verge of tears again. She raced out of the classroom on the bell, leaving half her things behind; Harry, deciding that her need was greater than Ron's just now, scooped up her remaining possessions and followed her."

Miraculously, Ron was sitting alone in the Great Hall when Harry returned from the girls' bathroom. He knew he didn't have long before Lavender Brown inevitably showed up, so he had to make it quick.

"Hey Ron," he said as he sat down across from him. "Where's Lavender?"

"Dunno," Ron replied, glancing around the room. "I expect she'll be here soon though."

Harry didn't give Ron much time to speculate about Lavender's whereabouts before bringing up their incident in Transfiguration class. "That was really mean, what you did back there. Imitating her like that."

"You heard her make fun of me first, right?" he said, scowling.

"Doesn't make it right."

Ron shrugged. "She started it."

"How far back are you going to go, to determine 'who started it'?"

Ron frowned before leaning in closer to keep others from eavesdropping. "She has no right to be mad at me. It was her lack of communication that caused this. You know she wasn't clear about her intentions for Slughorn's party, so at this point I really don't owe her anything."

"So, you're not going to apologize for imitating her, then?"

Ron scoffed. "She laughed at me first. Now she won't do it again."

"You seemed fine."

"I was."

"Hermione wasn't."

Harry noticed a flash of concern cross Ron's face. "What do you mean she wasn't?"

"I found her crying in the girls' bathroom just now," said Harry. "Well Luna did, actually. But still." He felt a pang of guilt sharing this, knowing that Hermione would not want Ron to know how he found her. She made every effort at putting up a strong face in front of him, and avoiding him when she couldn't.

"She was?" said Ron, his frowning face suddenly very pale.

Before Harry could respond, he spotted Lavender approaching sneakily behind Ron. "Hey Lavender."

"Oh hello Harry!" she said cheerfully. "Hi Ron." She reached around Ron's neck and pulled his face into a kiss, which he enthusiastically returned. "Are you ok?" she asked when they broke apart. "You look upset. What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," said Ron.

"Well good!" said Lavender before taking her own seat next to Ron, pulling his arm over her shoulders and leaning into him.

Ron shot a meaningful glance back at Harry, who shook his head, non-verbally assuring him that he wouldn't bring Hermione up again. At least not around Lavender.

-Really Good Quidditch Players-

"Hi, Parvati!" said Hermione, ignoring Ron and Lavender completely. "Are you going to Slughorn's party tonight?"

"No invite," said Parvati gloomily. "I'd love to go, though, it sounds like it's going to be really good... You're going, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm meeting Cormac at eight, and we're -"

There was a noise like a plunger being withdrawn from a blocked sink, and Ron surfaced. Hermione acted as though she had not seen or heard anything.

"- we're going up to the party together."

"Cormac?" said Parvati. "Cormac McLaggen, you mean?"

"That's right," said Hermione sweetly. "The one who almost" - she put a great deal of emphasis on the word - "became Gryffindor Keeper."

"Are you going out with him, then?" asked Parvati, wide-eyed.

"Oh - yes - didn't you know?" said Hermione, with a most un-Hermione-ish giggle.

"No!" said Parvati, looking positively agog at this piece of gossip. "Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don't you? First Krum, then McLaggen."

"I like really good Quidditch players," Hermione corrected her, still smiling. "Well, see you... got to go and get ready for the party..."

She left. At once Lavender and Parvati put their heads together to discuss this new development, with everything they had ever heard about McLaggen, and all they had ever guessed about Hermione. Ron looked strangely blank and said nothing. Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.

Harry was busy getting ready for Slughorn's party when Ron entered their shared dorm looking solemn.

He sat down on his bed and looked at Harry. "I figured you'd be gone already."

"The party doesn't start until eight," said Harry, adjusting his dress robes in the mirror.

"Oh," Ron shrugged. "I hope you have fun."

"Thanks!" said Harry cheerfully. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Wish I could go," mumbled Ron.

"You could have," Harry replied. "But you get to snog Lavender instead, so don't complain."

Ron groaned in response, ignoring his comment about Lavender. "Why is Hermione taking McLaggen?"

"You know why."

"Because she likes really good Quidditch players," he said. "What the bloody hell do you think she meant by that?"

Sighing, Harry took a seat on the edge of his bed. "You know she said that to get a rise out of you." Harry still felt relatively confident that Hermione wouldn't tell Ron she interfered at Quidditch trials, but part of him feared she would, so a little ego boost might be in order. "You're the one that made the team, remember?"

"Do you think she actually likes him?"

"No." Harry told him confidently. "She thinks he's vile. She's trying to get your attention, and I hate to say it, but it seems to be working."

Ron scowled. "Wait a minute, remember that time after trials, when she didn't congratulate me for making the team?"

Harry paused. "Yes," he said. "Why?"

"You don't think it was because she was disappointed that McLaggen didn't make it, do you?"

Harry let out a breath, relieved that Ron wasn't catching on. "No, I don't."

"It would make sense though, especially now that she's dating him."

"She's not dating him, she's just taking him to one party."

"Like she was going to take me to one party?"

"That was different."

"Was it?"

"Yeah, and you know it was." Harry had the feeling that Ron just needed someone to bicker with, but he was not an adequate replacement for Hermione. Harry knew that at this point Ron was confident about Hermione's feelings for him, it was just his own stubbornness that kept him from admitting it. That and the fact that now there was another obstacle in his way to actually making up with Hermione. Lavender. Changing the subject, he added, "What are you planning to do during the party?"

Ron shrugged. "Lavender. She's meeting me up here when the party starts."

Harry laughed. "You're going to do Lavender?"

"Not like that," said Ron, whose face was reddening.

"Are you sure? Because she's been all over you lately," joked Harry.

Ron's face was darkening into crimson again. "Wait, you don't think she wants to-"

"I'm just taking the mickey," said Harry quickly, not wanting to touch on a sensitive subject. "I'm sure her motivations are innocent." He winced when he heard the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Harry watched Ron's anxious expression at the thought of progressing physically with Lavender slowly turn back to the solemn one he wore when he first entered the room. There were a few moments of silence before he spoke again. "Will there be mistletoe at the party?" asked Ron.

Harry nodded. "Probably. Is that relevant?"

"I guess not," shrugged Ron.

"Alright then. I'm gonna go meet Luna. Have fun with Lavender," said Harry as he stood up. "But not too much."

"Have fun at the party," he replied. "But not too much," he added, smiling.

"Well I'm going with Luna, so that won't be an issue," he said on his way out. "And Hermione's going with McLaggen, so it also won't be an issue," Harry added to reassure him.

Ron was still looking solemn as the door closed behind Harry. Maybe Lavender could cheer him up.

-My Sweetheart-

"What's that?" asked Harry. '

"It's from Lavender," said Ron, sounding revolted. "She doesn't honestly think I'd wear ..."

Harry looked more closely and let out a shout of laughter, Dangling from the chain in large gold letters were the words: "My sweetheart".

"Nice," he said. "Classy. You should definitely wear it in front ol Fred and George."

"If you tell them," said Ron, shoving the necklace out of sight under his pillow, "I - I - I'll -"

"Stutter at me?" said Harry, grinning. "Come on, would I?"

"How could she think I'd like something like that, though?" Ron demanded out of thin air, looking rather shocked.

"Well, think back," said Harry. "Have you ever let it slip that you'd like to go out in public with the words 'My Sweetheart' round your neck?"

"Well... we don't really talk much," said Ron. "It's mainly . . ."

"Snogging," said Harry.

"Well, yeah," said Ron. He hesitated a moment, then said, "Is Hermione really going out with McLaggen?"

"I dunno," said Harry. "They were at Slughorn's party together, but I don't think it went that well."

Ron looked slightly more cheerful as he delved deeper into his stocking.

"So… How do you know it didn't go well?" Ron tentatively asked while diving deeper into his Christmas stocking. "The date, I mean."

Harry hesitated to answer while he thought of the best way to describe what he meant by that, without divulging too much information. Ron probably didn't want to hear about Hermione needing to escape McLaggen from under the mistletoe, or learn of her comment about Grawp being more of a gentleman. "She didn't seem to be having fun with him," he concluded, cautiously. "She actually left early, and McLaggen was quite ticked off about it."

Ron seemed satisfied enough with that answer. "Well he probably was hoping for a snog." Harry shrugged, but said nothing. "Did she get you anything for Christmas?"

"Erm- yeah. She gave me a new quill set before we left."

Ron's face fell. "Ahh, well. That's nice."

"I guess it beats a homework planner."

"That's true," said Ron as he dove back into his Christmas stocking. "I got her something."

"You did?"

Ron reached into his trunk and pulled out a book. "Saw this at Hogsmeade and thought she'd like it." He tossed it over to Harry. Non-Magical Connections: The Evolution of The Statute of Secrecy.

Harry stared at the book. "Sounds… boring," he said before tossing it back to Ron. "But I bet Hermione will like it."

"I remember her asking my dad about the Statute of Secrecy last summer."

"Hmm. and you got it at Hogsmeade? When?"

"Last weekend," Ron replied. "When I was with Lavender. Told her it was for my dad."

"So, why didn't you give it to Hermione before we left?"

Ron shrugged. "Didn't want Lavender to see, and she was always around. Also, I wasn't sure if Hermione would even be willing to talk to me before we left." He put the book back into his trunk before returning to his Christmas stocking. "I'll give it to her soon. Maybe next term."

Harry smiled at the indication that Ron had plans to be on speaking terms with Hermione again. Although, he wasn't sure if Hermione would want that, especially if Lavender was still around. "What did you get Lavender?"

Ron went quiet. Harry looked over to see that his face was growing red again. "Er- I didn't get anything for her."

"You didn't?" asked Harry incredulously. "Not even a sweetheart necklace?"

"Well we've only been together a few weeks, I wasn't expecting a gift from her either! Let alone that," he said, motioning to his bedside table where the locket lay. "So she's probably upset right now."

Harry, unable to help himself, simply laughed in response.

"Why is it funny?"

"Because it looks like you're wishing for a fight with Lavender."

"I'm not! I just didn't know!" he groaned in exasperation. "You know I've never had a girlfriend before. I don't know how these things work."

"Well be prepared for a row when you get back," said Harry. "Have you and Lavender had a fight yet?"

Ron shook his head.

"Well there's a first time for everything," Harry said, before noticing Ron's anxious expression. "You'll be fine, this is actually an area where you have tons of experience."

"Shut up," Ron chucked a piece of candy in Harry's direction. He reacted quickly and caught it, before noticing he had cracked a grin. "I should probably get her a present before we head back to school, shouldn't I?"

"Probably."

Ron groaned dramatically before diving back into his Christmas stocking to distract himself with more chocolate.

-Going Further-

Harry spent the majority of his first evening back at Hogwarts catching up with Hermione, as Ron was taken hostage by Lavender pretty quickly. Ron looked a little apprehensive at first, after all, he was expecting a confrontation related to his lack of Christmas present. Fortunately for him, Lavender didn't seem to want to use her mouth for arguing that night, so Harry made himself scarce.

When he returned to the dorm, he expected to be an empty dorm room, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. Harry opened the bedroom door to find Ron and Lavender passionately snogging on his bed. Thankfully they were still fully clothed, although it didn't look like they were planning to remain that way for long. Ron's hands were resting indecisively on her lower back as he kissed her, while her fingers hung on the edge of his trousers. They were so lost in their activities that they didn't notice Harry standing there. He debated just backing away slowly, and leaving them to it, but he really did want to go to bed.

Harry cleared his throat, and Ron and Lavender broke apart. Ron peered over toward the door, and when he spotted Harry, his face instantly turned crimson-red, and he gently pushed Lavender off of him. "Fuck… sorry."

Lavender swiftly got to her feet, and straightened out her shirt, and Ron pulled his pillow over his lap- a silly attempt at hiding his erection which only made it more obvious. "Oh Hi Harry," she said, smoothing out her skirt. "How long have you been there?"

"Erm- not long," said Harry. "Just about to go to bed." Ron was still avoiding his gaze when he entered the room.

"Not an issue," continued Lavender. "Ron and I will find somewhere else, right?" She glanced over at Ron, raising her eyes expectantly.

Ron, who was still pressing his pillow against his hips, grimaced, before hastily adjusting his expression into something remorseful. "Lav, I do want to, but I really need some sleep too. It's been a long day."

Lavender narrowed her eyes at him. "But it's been two weeks."

"We'll have all day tomorrow, I promise," responded Ron.

"But more people will be here tomorrow," she protested. "Like the rest of your roommates," she added as she nodded toward the empty beds in the dorm.

"I just… really need sleep Lav. We'll find time alone tomorrow."

Lavender nodded. "Alright then,' she said stiffly. She picked up her jumper, which had fallen to the floor beside Ron's bed. "Goodnight Harry. See you tomorrow, Won-Won," she added softly before exiting the room.

Ron exhaled loudly and removed the pillow from his lap, before sitting up on his bed and looking at Harry. He grimaced. "Sorry 'bout that, mate."

Harry felt no need to talk about what he just witnessed, so he responded with simple, "It's ok." He then distracted himself by opening his trunk and rummaging around for his pajamas, in an effort to continue avoiding Ron's eyes.

"Erm… I was kind of glad you walked in, if I'm being honest," said Ron.

"Really?" said Harry incredulously. "You were?"

Ron shrugged before hopping off of his own bed to change into his nightclothes. "Well, yeah," he said as he pulled off his shirt. "I was pretty certain we were going to have an argument tonight." Ron said as he slid into his pajamas, "but she just wanted to snog. It seemed like she had more than snogging on her mind, actually."

"Again,' said Harry. "I'm sorry I interrupted."

Ron paused, his face turning red again. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Harry shrugged, knowing full well that the door for that had opened when Harry walked in on him and Lavender. "Um.. sure. I guess," said Harry as he crawled into his bed. "What do you want to know?"

"So," started Ron before sitting back down on his bed. "How erm... far did you go with Cho?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Um… physically."

"Oh." Harry felt his own face heat up in embarrassment. "Well, we only ever got around to snogging. And just a few times."

"Just a few times?"

Harry nodded. "Pretty sure you and Lavender have surpassed anything I ever did with Cho." He chuckled. "At least based on what I saw today."

"So you never had sex, then."

"No, definitely not," said Harry quickly. "Why, have you?"

"No, no," said Ron. "It seems like she wants to, though."

Harry shrugged. "I'm honestly not the person to talk to about this. Don't really have any experience in the area."

Ron nodded. "Yeah. But you're my best mate. Who else am I going to talk to about this?"

"Sorry," said Harry. "So, how do you know that Lavender wants to… have sex." He knew he had joked about it with him before, but he didn't know they were actually so close to taking that step.

Ron's face was even redder when he answered. "Well she mentioned it before Christmas holiday," he said. "Then today, she kept telling me she was ready for more, but wasn't exactly specific about what she meant by more."

"Do you want to?" Harry asked.

"To be honest," said Ron after a moment of hesitating. "I'm not completely sure. I mean, yes, I do. But I don't want to make it… more complicated." He thought for a moment before adding, "That's partly why I'm glad you walked in, or else we might have been headed toward something I'd regret."

"Okay," said Harry. "If you aren't sure if you want to have sex...then don't." To Harry, not having sex seemed that simple.

Ron seemed to disagree. "It's not that easy though. It should be fine, right?"

'Yeah? I mean…if you're so nervous about it, you probably aren't ready yet" Harry shrugged. This conversation felt incredibly awkward- he had never received a sex talk, let alone given one. He was quite confident that Ron, who had five older brothers, likely knew much more about the subject than he did. Just because sex seemed for foriegn to Harry, and the thought of having it made him feel exceptionally nervous, didn't mean that Ron was having the same thoughts. Rather, his relationship with Lavender seemed to be rapidly moving in that direction.

His suspicions were confirmed when Ron answered. "I'm a sixteen year old boy. Bloody hell, I think about sex all the time."

"You do?"

Ron paused. "Well… yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah, just not…," Ron hesitated. "Nevermind."

Harry thought he knew what Ron was about to say, but was unsure if he should pursue that conversation. "Not with Lavender?" he asked tentatively.

Ron's grimace and his prolonged silence was enough of an answer, but he continued anyway. "Not with Lavender, no.'

Harry smiled. "I don't need to ask."

Ron shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Ok, so it's settled then. You probably shouldn't have sex with Lavender."

"I know," said Ron. "But..," he started. "I want to have sex, and she's kind of my only option."

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, not great. I don't think she'd like to know that you think you're settling."

"It's not that I'd be settling," he said. "It would just mean more to her, you know? I don't think it would be the same for me."

Harry shrugged. He didn't know much about sex, and he didn't know Lavender very well at all, so he couldn't help Ron decipher what sex would or wouldn't mean to her.

"But then again, if I tell her I don't want to, I think that would also mean something. Does that make sense?"

"No, not really," said Harry honestly.

"I don't know, Harry. I feel like I can't slow it down without being honest about why I want to."

"You can simply tell her you're not ready to have sex. It doesn't have to be about her."

"Lavender's not dumb, Harry."

"I'm not saying she is," he said defensively.

"She's just catching on that I'm more hesitant than she is. She's going to want to know why. If you hadn't walked in, we'd probably either be having sex, or having a very uncomfortable conversation about why I don't want to right now."

"You can't just be honest with her?"

Ron shook his head. "No. I don't even know what I would say."

Harry nodded. "Well then. I guess you should just hope it doesn't come up again anytime soon. At least not until you're ready."

"Ready? To have sex, or to tell her why i don't want to?"

"Either one," shrugged Harry.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I guess," he said as he reached over to turn out the light.

-Avoiding Lavender-

"Harry!"

Harry heard Ron call Harry over soon as he entered the common room. He was seated at a small table in the back with his Transfiguration book open, while Lavender sat across from him looking bored.

"I need your help. Want to work on this essay with us?"

When he asked, Lavender audibly sighed before saying, "I'm helping you, Ron."

Ron laughed. "No, you're not. You're trying to distract me."

Lavender's face fell. "It's not even due for another week, I think you can afford a distraction."

Harry was frozen in place a few feet from their table, unsure if he was truly welcome to join them.

Ron saw Harry standing still looking apprehensive, and cleared some of his things from the table. "Here, have a seat."

Harry tentatively sat down, with one eye on Lavender who rolled her eyes before returning her attention to her homework.

"Do you remember the five fundamentals of self-transfiguration? How do they differ from just regular human transfiguration?" asked Ron.

"Um… I dunno," said Harry. "But I remember where it was in the book. Once second."

"Lav!" said Ron abruptly.

"What?"

"Stop doing that."

"What am I doing?"

"That thing with your foot."

Harry felt his face turn red hot, and he had the unfortunate feeling that he wasn't really wanted at the table.

"Sorry," said Lavender flirtatiously. "Don't you think you've made enough progress on that essay, though?"

Harry busied himself by flipping through his transfiguration book, pretending to be engrossed in it.

"Lavender, we've made zero progress."

She shrugged. "We have time. And I've missed you…"

Ron's face turned red. "I'm trying to focus. I'll be more fun for you if I'm not stressed."

"Ok," said Lavender, as she closed her book. "I'm not going to work on this right now, I have other homework that's due sooner."

"Sorry," Ron said apologetically.

"It's ok, Won-Won," she said as she moved swiftly toward Ron's side of the table. She slipped her arms around his neck from behind him and hugged him. "Sorry for distracting you," she said before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"It's fine, Lavender," said Ron, blushing deeply.

"See you later?"

"Of course."

She smiled cheerfully and skipped off toward the girls' dorm. Harry waited until she was out of earshot before speaking up softly, "So, how are things with Lav-Lav?"

Ron scowled at Harry. "Bloody hell, don't call her that. And things are great, thanks for asking," he said with an unusual amount of emphasis.

"So, you're not trying to avoid her?"

'Don't know what you're talking about," said Ron, grinning.

"You're doing an essay over a week before it's due," Harry continued. "Hermione would be very impressed," muttered Harry more softly.

"Ok, I'm trying to minimize the alone time I have with Lavender, if that makes sense. I'm avoiding any possible activities or conversations I'm not ready for, but I'm not avoiding her ."

Harry shrugged. "Did you end up getting angry with you for not getting her a Christmas present?"

"No, she didn't," he said. "I keep waiting for her to bring it up, but she's just so… I don't know, happy to be around me all the time." Ron groaned, before adding, "It's kind of annoying, actually."

"It's annoying that she's happy to be around you?"

"Kind of, yeah," said Ron. "More so that I'm worried she's going to let it all out, eventually. Like I'm just biding my time before a big explosion."

Harry nodded. "So you're worried things will be great, until they aren't."

Yeah," said Ron. "And I am not the best at knowing when that will happen." To Harry, it seemed like a valid fear, especially considering that most of his experience with women has been through his friendship with Hermione, who was admittedly a little more unpredictable than Lavender.

"I don't know, Ron," said Harry. "Lavender seems to be quite understanding." Harry had to admit that his impression of her had been wrong at first. Apart from the several instances of 'Won-Won', she was not as vapid and annoying as he had at first assumed.

"Yeah, she is," said Ron. "I just feel like some issues should have come up by now. It feels weird that we still haven't had a fight."

"I know what it is," said Harry. "You like fighting. You and Hermione fight all the time."

"No, I don't," said Ron defensively. "That's not it. I'm fighting with Hermione right now, after all, why would I want more of that?"

"You're not fighting with Hermione right now," said Harry slowly. "You're not even speaking to her."

"What's the difference?"

"Fighting is what happens when you two are getting along. You love bickering and arguing… and you have no one to do that with right now, because Lavender is so nice to you." It was all starting to make sense to Harry right now, the staticness of his relationship with Lavender must feel unsettling to him, since he was so accustomed to the fiery relationship he had with Hermione.

"Well," said Ron. "That's a good thing, don't you think?"

Harry shrugged. "You don't seem to be enjoying yourself as much as you did at first. Or as much as she is now."

Ron paused to think about Harry's words. "I don't know, Harry. Maybe I deserve someone who is… nice to me."

Harry could almost feel Ron's lack of excitement when he said it. "Well yeah. Of course you deserve that, Ron."

Ron nodded. "So I guess there's no problem then."

"Guess not," said Harry.

"We should finish this essay though," continued Ron as he turned his attention back to his book.

"You know what?" said Harry, closing his own book. "Lavender's right, we don't need to do this tonight. Why don't we work on something that's due sooner."

"Already finished it," muttered Ron.

Harry looked at him wide-eyed. "That's a first for you."

Ron shrugged.

"All in an effort to avoid Lavender?"

Ron shrugged again. "Not avoiding her."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "I agree Ron, this is a very healthy and productive relationship for you."

"I guess it is," said Ron, chuckling, as Harry poured his books into his bag.

"I'm gonna go to bed then," said Harry. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight mate," said Ron, and Harry left him to head up the stairs back to their dorm.

-First Fight-

Harry was on the way up to his dorm when he crashed into Lavender on the stairwell. She was bolting down the steps with tears in her eyes, when they collided.

"Owwww," she groaned, rubbing her head. "I'm so sorry Harry, I didn't mean to slam into you," she sniffled.

Harry readjusted his glasses, which had been displaced by their collision. "It's fine. Are you ok, Lavender?"

"Been better," she said. "I'm sure Ron will tell you all about it."

"What?" he asked, but she was already halfway down the stairs.

Harry took a deep breath, and continued into his dorm room.

Ron was sitting on his bed, holding his maroon jumper, and looking angry.

"Hey," said Harry cautiously. "Just bumped into Lavender on the staircase."

Ron didn't answer, but tossed his jumper to the floor next to him, and collapsed onto his back on the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry asked reluctantly.

Ron groaned. "She stole my jumper."

"She… stole your jumper?"

"Yeah. She came in here earlier and was wearing it. I kind of went ballistic on her."

"You did? But why?"

Ron looked at Harry incredulously, "Because she stole my jumper!"

"Why is her wearing your jumper such a big deal?"

"I don't have a problem with her wearing it. It's stealing it that's the problem," he said. "I told her not to come up here without me and take my stuff."

"Sounds reasonable," said Harry, shrugging.

"Right," said Ron, sitting up. "But get this. She blatantly lied about it. That's what really pissed me off."

"She…. lied?"

"She said she found this jumper in… in Hermione's things."

"Oh," said Harry. "But now that I think about it, i haven't seen that jumper for a very long time."

Ron didn't appear to hear him. "She's been prying for information about Hermione since we got together. She didn't exactly like her reaction to us," he motioned to his arms, which still had scars from the canary attack. "That, and apparently Hermione hasn't exactly been nice to her since she started dating me."

"Right, well they're roommates so, I would imagine it's not a super pleasant atmosphere in there," muttered Harry sarcastically.

"So she has to lie? And try to make me mad at Hermione?"

"You already are mad at Hermione," said Harry.

"Exactly. So why would she lie to make me more mad. Doesn't make sense."

"Ron…," started Harry. He finally placed where he had last seen the jumper. "I don't think she lied."

"What do you mean?' asked Ron.

"Hermione did have your jumper, Ron. Remember at the end of fourth year, when you shoved your jumper in her bag so Rita Skeeter wouldn't hear what you were saying?"

Ron eyebrows knit together, as he tried to remember. "Wait, you're right."

"She must have kept it," said Harry. "Lavender really could have found it in her things."

"She kept it," Ron repeated.

"Yeah, but it was probably by accident," Harry said quickly. He didn't want Ron to shift his anger to Hermione.

But apparently he didn't need to worry about that, as Ron was suddenly wearing his goofy grin, and his ears were turning pink.

"She kept it," he said again.

"Yeah. I guess she did," said Harry, shrugging.

"Why do you think she kept it all this time?"

"I don't know, Ron," said Harry. "But you seem happy she did."

Ron shrugged. "I mean, I'm just relieved it wasn't stolen."

"Sure you were," said Harry, grinning. "You should probably apologize to Lavender, though."

"Yeah," said Ron. "I will."

-A Dreaded Valentine's Day-

"What are you going to do in Hogsmeade?"

Harry and Ron were in their dorm, gathering any warm clothes for their outing. Everyone was preparing to venture out to Hogsmeade for the second weekend in February, and since it fell so close to Valentine's day, most people were pairing up. Since Ron would be spending the weekend with Lavender, Harry agreed to meet up with a group, which included Hermione, Luna, and Neville.

"I don't know, we're probably just going to go to the Three Broomsticks," said Harry. "No real plan, it'll just be nice to get out."

Ron nodded. "Sounds like more fun than Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop." Ron had been complaining about this particular date ever since Lavender planned it. Evidently, there was some sort of expectation that all couples go to Madam Puddifoots on Valentine's Day, and Harry couldn't help but wince when he remembered his own experience there, one year prior.

"I can't say I envy you," he told Ron. "Maybe you can bring Lavender to the Three Broomsticks afterward," he added, hoping Ron would catch on that it was an empty invitation.

"Yeah, well Lavender won't want to, if Hermione's there."

There had been even more tension between Hermione and Lavender since the jumper incident. After Ron and Lavender's row, Hermione confided in Harry that Lavender confronted her to question why she had his jumper. Hermione didn't have a sufficient answer and admitted she was quite embarrassed that she'd been holding onto it for two years. In the end, she was so mortified by Lavender's accusation that she was trying to get between her and Ron, that she had been avoiding her at all costs.

"Why can't they get along?" said Ron. "Girls are so mental."

Harry's gaze lingered on Dean's bed, and his gut tightened in envy at the thought of Dean's plans for Hogsmeade this weekend. He nodded vaguely at Ron, feigning agreement, although he felt that the tension between Hermione and Lavender was justified. "Well maybe not, then."

"I don't want to go," admitted Ron. "But I'd be a bad boyfriend if I didn't."

Harry sighed. "Ron, maybe you should end things with Lavender." Harry had never outright said it, but Ron had been bringing up his dissatisfaction with their relationship more frequently. "You dread spending alone time with her. That's not a good sign."

"She didn't do anything wrong though," said Ron. "She's been great, actually. Sure, a bit annoying and clingy at times, but I'm sure I wouldn't mind that if…,' he trailed off.

"If you actually liked her?"

Ron's face reddened, and he nodded. "Yeah."

Harry didn't have advice for Ron, as this was another topic with which he had limited experience. His relationship with Cho had ended mutually on it's own.

"Anyway, I can't break up with her today. It's Valentine's day, and she's really excited about Madam Puddifoot's."

"Yeah, today probably wouldn't be the best," agreed Harry.

"Also, look what happened last time I- you know," said Ron, as he looked down at his arms.

"Romantically rejected someone?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Someone I wasn't even with. It could be worse this time."

"I don't think Lavender will set birds on you, if that's what you're worried about."

"I didn't think Hermione would either," said Ron shrugging.

"Just don't let it drag on too long," said Harry. "That will make it worse."

Ron groaned. "You're right," he said dryly. "Thanks for the advice," he added with a shrug.

"No problem," said Harry cheerfully. "I'm going to go find Hermione."

"Ok," he mumbled. "See you in Hogsmeade."

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry on his way out, secretly hoping he wouldn't. "And happy Valentines Day," he added before shutting the door behind him.

Chapter Text

-Birthday Blues-

Harry and Ron were studying in the common room, but Harry was pretty sure they'd both lost focus a while ago. Ron's gaze kept wandering distractedly around the room, and he hadn't written a word on his parchment, or turned a page in his book in nearly half an hour.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Harry casually asked Ron. For some reason, he had been avoiding this conversation entirely.

Ron quickly looked around, as if checking for eavesdroppers. "I told you, I don't want anything."

Once again, Ron nervously back toward the portrait hole door like a paranoid puppy. Harry smirked at him. "Hermione's in the library, if that's who you're worried about running into."

Harry hadn't seen much of Hermione for the last few days. That was partially due to the fact that Ron had been spending much more time with him recently, which was causing Hermione to keep her distance.

"Are you avoiding Lavender?" he asked cautiously, without looking up from his books.

Things with Ron and Lavender had been a bit rocky ever since Valentine's day. According to Ron— and Harry was well aware he was only hearing Ron's perception— Lavender had been expecting an elaborate affair, and was quite disappointed at Ron's lack of planning. Harry assumed she had simply been hoping for some effort on Ron's part, and her disappointment was probably understandable. He didn't say that to Ron, though. He didn't have much to stand on since his disaster of a Valentine's day the year prior.

"I am not avoiding her," said Ron. "I'm just trying to limit the chances of running into her."

"That's avoiding."

"It's a little bit different," said Ron with a shrug.

Harry sighed. "Is she still mad about Valentine's day?"

"Worse," said Ron. "She feels bad."

Harry hadn't heard this new development. "What do you mean?"

Ron leaned back in his hair and looked at Harry. He appeared to be deciding how much detail to give him. "She apologized."

"What did she apologize for?"

Ron sighed and looked around once more. His face was deepening in color, and he spoke in a careful whisper. "She assumed that I hadn't gotten her a present or made a fancy reservation because I haven't got any money."

"Oh," said Harry.

"Yeah."

Harry felt his stomach clench in empathy for Ron. He knew money was a touchy subject for him, and he couldn't stand being pitied. No wonder he was avoiding Lavender.

"And that's why you need to stop bringing up my birthday."

"What?" asked Harry, confused. "What does your birthday have to do with anything?"

Ron looked back down at his homework before mumbling. "I'm hoping she forgets about it."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want her to get me a present!" he said hurriedly. "It'll either be another 'My Sweetheart' necklace, which she keeps asking why I'm not wearing by the way, or," he moved back to a whisper, "It'll be something super expensive and nice, and then I'll feel really guilty about breaking up with her."

Harry shook his head, as if doing so could make Ron's logic settle into a place that made sense. "Why don't you just break up with her before your birthday?"

"We talked about this," he said. "I can't. It would look really bad if I broke up with her now."

Harry stared at him, confused, before it hit him. "You didn't… sleep with her, did you?"

Ron shook his head. "No. We didn't have sex."

"What did you do?" groaned Harry, now dropping his head into his hands.

Ron's face was boiling red again. "More of a question of what she did, actually."

Harry grimaced at the image that forced its way into his head, and he tried to shake it out. "Ok, don't give me details, but why?"

Ron lowered his voice again. "Because, we were fighting, and then she got really apologetic and started pitying me, and I didn't know what to say, so I just snogged her and hoped we wouldn't talk about it anymore," he looked around him once more, for good measure. "And then she offered to toss me off, and in the moment it seemed like the only alternative to breaking up with her."

Harry shook his head. "It seemed like the only alternative to breaking up with her," he repeated, like Ron's words would make sense if he heard them in his own voice.

"Mental, I know," said Ron.

"Ron, just end it with her!" said Harry in exasperation.

"Harry, do you see how that would look?"

"It would look like you're no longer leading the poor girl on," said Harry, ignoring the look from Ron that suggested he was oversimplifying the problem.

"I didn't exactly return the favor, you know?"

"Well, you wouldn't want to look like an arsehole," said Harry sarcastically.

"That's the issue! Now she expects me too. She keeps hinting at it. And if I break up with her now, it'll look like I used her. If I "return the favor"," he said, using air-quotes which suggested that he probably wasn't ready to anyway, "then it just prolongs the inevitable. I can't win."

Harry shook his head. "I can't help you," he told him. "Have you talked to Fred or George about this? It seems like they might have more wisdom in this area." He chose his words carefully. He knew Fred and George could be quite the heartbreakers— maybe it was a Weasley thing.

As if on cue, the portrait hole door opened. Ron jumped and whipped his head around to check, but it was just Ginny. Just Ginny. Ron breathed a sigh of relief, but Harry felt a pit sink to the bottom of his stomach.

"Your girlfriend's looking for you," said Ginny as she skipped over to their table.

"Yeah, well. Tell her I'm super busy," replied Ron.

Ginny looked down at Ron's books, which were now closed. "You don't look busy," she said.

Ron groaned.

"What did my idiot brother do this time?" she whispered in Harry's direction.

"You don't want to know," said Harry. His face grew warmer when he earned a laugh from Ginny.

"You're right, I don't." She turned and skipped back toward the girls' dormitory. Harry hoped Ron didn't catch his lingering glance.

Based on the fact that Ron's face was still buried in his hands when Harry finally looked back, he probably didn't.

-Falling In Love!-

"Harry, I can't stand it!"

"You can't stand what?" asked Harry, now starling to feel definitely alarmed. Ron was rather pale and looked as though he was about to be sick.

"I can't stop thinking about her!" said Ron hoarsely.

Harry gaped at him. He had not expected this and was not sure he wanted to hear it. Friends they might be, but if Ron started calling Lavender 'Lav-Lav', he would have to put his foot down.

"I don't think she knows I exist," said Ron with a desperate gesture.

"She definitely knows you exist," said Harry, bewildered. "She keeps snogging you, doesn't she?"

Ron blinked.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Who are you talking about?" said Harry, with an increasing sense that all reason had dropped out of the conversation.

"Romilda Vane," said Ron softly, and his whole face seemed to illuminate as he said it, as though hit by a ray of purest sunlight.

Lavender was waiting beside the portrait hole, a complication Harry had not foreseen.

"You're late, Won-Won!" she pouted. "I've got you a birthday—"

"Leave me alone" said Ron impatiently, "Harry's going to introduce me to Romilda Vane."

And without another word to her, he pushed his way out of the portrait hole. Harry tried to make an apologetic face to Lavender, but it might have turned out simply amused, because she looked more offended than ever as the Fat Lady swung shut behind them.

Harry had completely forgotten about Romilda Vane's chocolates, and was now kicking himself for it. Of course they had gotten mixed up in Ron's birthday presents. He felt like an idiot.

Harry had always been slightly curious as to what it would be like to accidentally take a love potion, but after hearing Ron gush about Romilda Vane, he was just glad it wasn't him.

"Why did we leave the common room? She's a Gryffindor right?" Ron had come to a halt, and looked wistfully back at the portrait hole door. The Fat Lady appeared to be chuckling.

"Yes, but right now she's in Slughorn's office. She went to ask for potions help." Harry hoped his lie would go undetected by Ron, who appeared to be missing most forms of logic.

"Oh. That makes sense," he said before following him down the corridor.

It made absolutely no sense; it was early on a Saturday morning, and no student in their right mind would be searching out extra tutoring at this hour. But Ron didn't even question it.

"What do you think her favorite flower is?" he asked.

"Dunno."

"Maybe we should stop by the greenhouse and pick some up."

"We don't have time."

"Harry! I can't show up empty-handed, can I?" Ron had halted again, and now looked panicked. "What if she rejects me?"

"She won't," said Harry calmly, before adding, "she's really excited to see you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

There were multiple moments like this; where Harry had to patiently reassure Ron that they really were going to see Romilda, and she definitely was in love with him. Harry suddenly worried that they might accidentally run into her on the way. That would be a disaster.

So Harry did his best to keep Ron distracted, answering questions about Romilda Vane that he didn't know the answer to, and hoping he wouldn't see through his facade.

"Ok, when we get there, you'll have to act calm, ok?"

Ron nodded, and looked down at his body. "Bloody hell, I'm wearing pajamas!"

"Yes," said Harry. "You are."

"Why did you let me leave in pajamas?" asked Ron angrily.

"She'll be wearing pajamas too!" said Harry hurriedly. Ron scowled at him, but reluctantly followed.

Ron was pacing when they finally reached Slughorn's office.

"Just, be cool, ok?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I'll be cool," he said before taking a long shaky breath that suggested otherwise.

Harry knocked on the door. It took a couple tries before Slughorn eventually answered.

"Harry," he mumbled. "This is very early for a call... I generally sleep late on a Saturday..."

Slughorn had managed to whip up a remedy rather quickly. It took some convincing for Ron to actually drink it, and he only obliged when they told him it was a tonic for the nerves. He gulped it down only with the promise of seeing Romilda right after.

It hadn't taken much time to kick in. Both Slughorn and Harry watched Ron's expression turn from one of excitement to embarrassment and then to anger in a matter of seconds.

"What the hell happened?" he said stiffly.

"A very strong love potion," said Harry. Both him and Slughorn were looking at Ron with rather amused expressions.

"Did anyone see me like this?"

Harry winced. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Who?"

"Lavender."

"Oh."

Harry saw a fleeting expression of what looked like relief pass over Ron's face, but he might have imagined it.

"Lavender, is she your—," started Slughorn.

"Girlfriend, yes."

Slughorn nodded solemnly. "I suppose that will require some damage control," he said empathetically. "You must be damn good with the ladies if they're slipping you love potions!"

"Wasn't for me," said Ron, now slumping further into his seat. "Was supposed to be Harry."

Harry chuckled. Ron didn't need a love potion to get caught up in a love triangle.

"No one else saw me?" he asked Harry, who shook his head. Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Harry shook his even head more firmly.

"Well, if it was an accident, then I'm sure Miss Lavender will forgive you in no time," said Slughorn, unaware of the nonverbal exchange happening between the boys. He sauntered on over to a large cabinet beside his desk. "I suppose a celebration is in order, then. After all, we avoided a potential disaster— wouldn't have wanted you swooning over the wrong girl!"

Harry and Ron shared a scowl over the irony of Slughorn's statement, as he rummaged around in the cabinet. "Ahh yes, this should do. It was supposed to be a gift for Dumbledore, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. Mead anyone?"

Without waiting for an answer, Slughorn poured them each a glass.

-Er-My-Nee-

"Who'd want to kill Slughorn?"

"Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side," said Harry. "Slughorn was in hiding for a year before he came to Hogwarts. And. . . " He thought of the memory Dumbledore had not yet been able to extract from Slughorn. "And maybe Voldemort wants him out of the way, maybe he thinks he could be valuable to Dumbledore. "

"But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to Dumbledore for Christmas," Ginny reminded him. "So the poisoner could just as easily have been after Dumbledore. "

"Then the poisoner didn't know Slughorn very well," said Hermione, speaking for the first time in hours and sounding as though she had a bad head cold. "Anyone who knew Slughorn would have I known there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself. "

"Er-my-nee," croaked Ron unexpectedly from between them

They all fell silent, watching him anxiously, but after muttering incomprehensibly for a moment he merely started snoring.

Harry, Ginny, Fred and George were the only ones left in the Hospital wing when Ron finally woke up. He opened his eyes slowly, before looking around him and letting out a groan. "What the bloody hell."

"Ron!" shrieked Ginny.

"You're alive!" said George.

"Yeah, we were starting to think our gift might have been a waste of money," said Fred.

"Well now it's a waste," said George. "If you had died, we could have returned it."

"Shut up you two," said Ron, but he was grinning. "Is anyone going to tell me how I got here?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" asked Harry.

Ron sighed. "I remember sobering up from a love potion and realizing that I'd been obsessing over Romilda Vane for half an hour."

"Ah," said Fred. "Wouldn't want him calling for a girl who's not his girlfriend. How embarrassing."

Harry shot Fred a glare, but Ginny chuckled.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron.

Harry quickly filled in the gaps for Ron, explaining that the mead was poisoned, and that's how he ended up in the hospital wing.

"So now," said Ginny, picking away at some chocolates that Mrs. Weasley had left by Ron's bedside table, "We are trying to figure out who hates you enough to do you in."

Ron chuckled. "Just like the love potion, I don't think the mead was for me. Careful with those by the way, wouldn't want you to accidentally fall in love," he said motioning toward the chocolates she was eating.

"I'm kidding of course," said Ginny, ignoring Ron. "Slughorn said the mead was for Dumbledore, but he doesn't remember who gave it to him."

"Harry seems to think it's Malfoy," said George. "And as usual, everyone else thinks he's mental."

Harry shrugged. He was still convinced, but it wasn't worth a fight.

"And Hermione reckons it's an amateur, someone who doesn't know what they're doing," continued Fred. "Because whoever it was should have assumed Slughorn would have kept the mead for himself."

"Sorry, what?" said Ron incredulously.

"She said it's probably someone who's inexperienced in the art of… you know, killing people. Because they're doing a shite job."

"Not that. When did you speak to Hermione?" he asked.

Harry looked across the bed to see that Ginny was smirking at him. He felt knots in his stomach.

"She was just here," said Fred. "You talked to her."

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you did."

Ron shot a questioning glance at Harry, who nodded. "She was here."

"Why?" asked Ron, now sitting up in bed.

"Because you're friends," said George cautiously.

"Are we?" Ron's question was more directed at Harry. Fred and George shared an amused, yet confused look. Ginny was beaming.

Harry nodded. "She was really upset when I told her what happened."

"She was?" Ron's face was reddening. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"You mean Lavender?" asked Harry.

Ron nodded once. Fred and George had now joined Ginny in beaming.

"Lavender doesn't know. Do you want me to tell her?"

Ron shook his head quickly. "I mean, she'll find out, I'm sure."

George burst out laughing. "Ron!"

"What?"

"We didn't know you had created such a mess with the ladies!"

"I haven't—"

"Oh please," said Fred. "You are dating Lavender, accidentally swallow a love potion from Romilda, and then get a little too excited about Hermione visiting you, and you don't even want your girlfriend to know you're in the hospital."

"That's what we mean by 'a mess'," finished George.

"George, maybe he doesn't need the book," said Fred.

"Oh, he definitely needs the book," laughed Fred. "Or he'll never get out of this."

"What book?

Fred nodded toward the small pile of presents at his bedside. "You'll find it."

Ron looked at Harry, who shrugged.

"Well, since you're fine now," said Ginny, standing up. "I'm going to go." She hoisted her back over her shoulder and looked back at Ron. "Would you like me to tell Hermione you're awake? Because I will."

Ron simply glared at his sister, and she turned toward the door.

"I'll tell her," she said over her shoulder, laughing.

Harry turned back to see Ron's flaming red face, while Fred and George sniggered.

"Happy Birthday, bro."

-Not Lavender-

Meanwhile, Lavender kept sidling up to Harry to discuss Ron, which Harry found almost more wearing than McLaggen's Quidditch lectures. At first, Lavender had been very annoyed that nobody had thought to tell her that Ron was in the hospital wing-"I mean, I am his girlfriend!"-but unfortunately she had now decided to forgive Harry this lapse of memory and was keen to have lots of in-depth chats with him about Ron's feelings, a most uncomfortable experience that Harry would have happily forgone.

"Look, why don't you talk to Ron about all this?" Harry asked, after a particularly long interrogation from Lavender that took in everything from precisely what Ron had said about her new dress robes to whether or not Harry thought that Ron considered his relationship with Lavender to be "serious. "

"Well, I would, but he's always asleep when I go and see him!" said Lavender fretfully.

"Is he?" said Harry, surprised, for he had found Ron perfectly alert every time he had been up to the hospital wing, both highly interested in the news of Dumbledore and Snape's row and keen to abuse McLaggen as much as possible.

"Is Hermione Granger still visiting him?" Lavender demanded suddenly.

"Yeah, I think so. Well, they're friends, aren't they?" said Harry uncomfortably.

"Friends, don't make me laugh," said Lavender scornfully. "She didn't talk to him for weeks after he started going out with me! But I suppose she wants to make up with him now he's all interesting. . . "

"So how's McLaggen shaping up?" he asked Harry nervously, apparently forgetting that he had already asked the same question twice.

"I've told you," said Harry patiently, "he could be world-class and I wouldn't want to keep him. He keeps trying to tell everyone what to do, he thinks he could play every position better than the rest of us. I can't wait to be shot of him. And speaking of getting shot of people," Harry added, getting to his feet and picking up his Firebolt, "will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She's driving me mad as well. "

"Oh," said Ron, looking sheepish. "Yeah. All right. "

"If you don't want to go out with her anymore, just tell her," said Harry.

"Yeah. . . well. . . it's not that easy, is it?" said Ron. He paused. "Hermione going to look in before the match?" he added casually.

"No, she's already gone down to the pitch with Ginny. "

"Oh," said Ron, looking rather glum.

Harry and Ron were lying in adjacent beds in the Hospital wing. Harry's head still ached— the Skelegro was making quick work of repairing his skull, but at the cost of excruciating pain. Ron, however, did not appear to notice that Harry was in agony.

"Want to play chess?"

Harry groaned. He didn't want to use his brain at all, but he did need a distraction. "Sure. I guess."

Ron sat up in bed, swinging his legs over the edge. He pulled the bedside table between them. Harry sighed at his enthusiasm.

"Is this new?" asked Harry, watching Ron setting up a chessboard he'd never seen before. It was orange, and the chess pieces resembled Chudley Cannons players.

Ron nodded. "It was a birthday present."

"From…?" asked Harry.

There was a pause. "Not Lavender."

Harry laughed. "And not your family, I'm assuming."

Ron shook his head. "Let's play."

Harry had already lost two chess matches, and he'd quite had enough of losing in the past few days, be it Quidditch, or chess, or the bones in his skull.

"I am only losing because I have a concussion," said Harry.

Ron snorted. "Whatever makes you feel better, mate."

"It's a really nice chess set."

Ron nodded. "It is."

"If it's not from Lavender, what did she get for you?" asked Harry. He couldn't resist, he wanted to know.

"She got me a new jumper," he said. "To replace my old ratty one."

"The one your mom knit you?" asked Harry.

Ron nodded.

Harry shrugged. "She meant well, you know."

"I suppose so."

They quietly continued their game for a few more moments. Ron looked to be concentrating on his next move, but Harry knew he had much more on his mind. He gave it a couple more rounds before prying again.

"She really likes you," said Harry gently. "It's quite obvious."

"That's kind of the problem, isn't it?" said Ron.

Harry scowled at Ron. "It is?"

"Who are you talking about?"

Harry smiled. "Not Lavender."

Ron grinned back, his ears turning red. "Right."

"You know it's your move, right?"

"I just moved my bishop—"

Harry smirked again. "Not chess."

Ron sighed. "Oh."

Harry could tell he didn't really want to be having this conversation, but he felt he owed it to his two best friends. That, and he couldn't stand skirting around the issue whenever Lavender cornered him.

So he pressed on. "What you're doing isn't fair to either of them."

Ron nodded. "You're right," he said. "I just...can't," he said. "I keep hoping she'll end it with me."

"She won't," said Harry.

"You don't think she'll react the way Hermione did?"

Harry shrugged. "I think the longer you wait, the more likely she will."

"Well, fuck, don't say that."

Harry chuckled. "Sorry. She's awful at transfiguration, so I think you'll be safe from birds." He earned a fleeting grin from Ron.

Harry couldn't help but wonder if ending his current relationship was really the daunting task that paralyzed Ron, or if his anxiety was rooted in the task that came after.

"I'll do it," he finally said.

"And I'm cool with whatever happens next," added Harry, just in case Ron needed to hear that.

"Thank you."

"No problem," said Harry, now itching to move on to another topic. "Should we finish this chess match?"

"Oh yeah," said Ron. "Checkmate."

"How did you do that?" asked Harry, looking incredulously at the board.

Ron smiled. "Because you're terrible at chess."

-The Right Time-

"Ron, you're making it snow," said Hermione patiently, grabbing his wrist and redirecting his wand away from the ceiling from which, sure enough, large white flakes had started to fall. Lavender Brown, Harry noticed, glared at Hermione from a neighboring table through very red eyes, and Hermione immediately let go of Ron's arm.

"Oh yeah," said Ron, looking down at his shoulders in vague surprise. "Sorry. . . looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now. . . "

He brushed some of the fake snow off Hermione's shoulder Lavender burst into tears. Ron looked immensely guilty and turned his back on her.

"We split up," he told Harry out of the corner of his mouth, "Last night. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you, so she thought it had just been the two of us. "

"Ah," said Harry. "Well-you don't mind it's over, do you?"

"No," Ron admitted. "It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't have to finish it. "

"Coward," said Hermione, though she looked amused. "Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Ginny and Dean split up too, Harry. "

Harry thought there was a rather knowing look in her eye as she told him that, but she could not possibly know that his insides were suddenly dancing the conga.

Last night was not a good night for romance, not at all, and Harry couldn't help that the fact made him smile. He figured Ron felt the same way too. He tried to wipe the smile from his face as he ascended the stairs to the dorm room, after all, he couldn't assume Ron would be in a good enough mood to share his excitement. Play it cool.

"You look happy," said Harry, upon finding Ron in their dorm room. He was standing up straighter and that crease between his eyes that Harry had gotten so used to had disappeared.

"Yeah, I am," he said, before adding. "I feel a little guilty, but I suppose that would be worse if I waited longer."

"And you probably would have waited longer," Harry replied. "If she hadn't gotten to you first."

Ron shrugged. "That's true. I suppose you think I got off easy."

According to Hermione, the Ron and Lavender break up "conversation" had attracted quite the crowd in the common room. Evidently, Hermione had tried to slip up to the girls' dorms unnoticed, but Lavender had turned on her before she could disappear.

"I wouldn't say that," said Harry. Luckily his "fizzling out" with Cho had been a natural and private event. "Sorry you had an audience for it."

Ron shrugged. "That's on me. I had quite a few opportunities to do it in private, and I didn't. I got what was coming to me."

Harry nodded.

"I wish she hadn't made me look like such an arsehole though. Everyone thinks I cheated on her now," he added. "Which would make it quite tough to date again, so it's a good thing—" he faltered.

"It's a good thing what?"

Ron shook his head. "Nothing."

Harry had a pretty good guess as to what Ron was about to say. "It's a good thing the person you want to date knows the truth."

Ron shrugged. "I guess so."

"So you and Hermione are…?" started Harry, hoping Ron would fill in the missing information.

"Friends."

"You're friends?"

Ron nodded. "Best friends."

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion. Surely, this was the right time, wasn't it? Harry had to admit his anxiousness to see his two best friends get together had evolved alongside his feelings for another member of the Weasley family, and his desire to offer his blessing to Ron and Hermione might have an ulterior motive. But even still, Harry saw no good reason that Ron and Hermione shouldn't be together right now.

"And you're going to ask her to be more than your friend, right?"

"I did."

Harry's shoulders sunk. She surely felt the same way, even Harry knew that. At least he had thought so. "She said no?"

"Kind of," he said, though his tone was soaked with uncertainty.

"I'm going to need you to explain, mate."

Ron groaned. "We didn't really have time to talk right away, because Lavender's yelling had attracted a crowd, and of course I didn't want to sort things out with Hermione in front of other people. I didn't want to embarrass her.

"Sure…," said Harry.

"But I just kind of assumed, you know? I'd been hinting at it for a while now."

Harry nodded, and refrained from pointing out how unsuccessful hinting had been for them thus far. "It's perfect timing though— I mean, you're shot of Lavender, and there's still a few good weeks left of term."

"She said no," said Ron. "When I finally brought it up."

"She doesn't feel the same way?"

Ron shook his head. "She didn't say that. She said 'not yet', to be more specific."

"Why?"

"She said If we started something up, then everyone would think that I cheated on Lavender with her, and she doesn't want people to think that about either of us."

Harry shrugged. "Sure, but you don't have to announce anything. You could keep it a secret, at least at first."

"I suggested that," he said, "But that wasn't what she wanted. She said she wanted time."

"Did she say how much?"

Ron shook his head.

Harry sighed. He wasn't expecting this, and didn't want to be subjected to any more drama between his two friends. "So where did you leave it?"

Ron shrugged. "I told her to tell me when she was ready."

Harry nodded. He hoped they got their act together soon. If Ron was happy, he'd much more likely to approve of him dating Ginny. Not that that was happening yet— Harry had wanted to talk to Ron first, but he also knew he couldn't wait too long. He figured she wouldn't stay single for long. But right now felt like the wrong time to bring it up.

"Well, I hope she's ready soon."

Ron nodded. "Me too."

-An Understanding-

"We won!" yelled Ron, bounding into sight and brandishing the silver Cup at Harry. "We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!"

Harry looked around; there was Ginny running toward him; she had a hard, blazing look on her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her.

After several long moments-or it might have been half an hour-or possibly several sunlit days-they broke apart. The room had gone very quiet. Then several people wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of nervous giggling. Harry looked over the top of Ginny's head to see Dean Thomas holding a shattered glass in his hand, and Romilda Vane looking as though she might throw something. Hermione was beaming, but Harry's eyes sought Ron. At last he found him, still clutching the Cup and wearing an expression appropriate to having been clubbed over the head. For a fraction of a second they looked at each other, then Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head that Harry understood to mean, "Well-if you must."

The creature in his chest roaring in triumph, he grinned down at Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk in the grounds seemed indicated, during which- if they had time- they might discuss the match.

Harry had just bid Ginny goodnight— both verbally and non-verbally, of course, and was slowly making his way up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. The excitement that overwhelmed him from his time with Ginny slowly morphed into a heavy lump of anxiety in his stomach, knowing that Ron would be there waiting for him, and he'd likely have some thoughts to share.

Harry took a deep breath and gingerly opened the door to the room. Ron was sitting on his bed. He appeared to be doing nothing but waiting for him. He was lying on his bed, shoes still on, staring blankly up at the ceiling as if lost in thought.

"Hi," said Harry tentatively.

Ron propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Harry. "Hi," he answered.

There was a tense moment of silence before Ron continued.

"Did you have a good night?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. What was he supposed to say? Yes, Ron, I had a lovely evening snogging your sister. Luckily, he didn't have to answer, as Ron quickly realized what he had asked.

"You know what," Ron said abruptly. "Don't tell me anything. I don't want to know." He collapsed back down onto his bed, and Harry cautiously made his way over to dresser to change.

Part of Harry wished he had confided more in Ron. Maybe he could have prepared Ron for this. But when exactly, would have been the right time to bring it up?

The silence between them didn't last very long, because for someone who didn't want to know anything, Ron sure had a lot of questions that evening. "How long?" he asked from his bed.

Harry thought back— when did he start developing feelings for Ginny? Was it when he saw Dean kissing her after Quidditch? It might have been earlier, when he started to recognize the scent of his Amortentia. It could have even started at the Burrow, when Fleur's effect on him was notably more limited than it was during their fourth year.

"I can't really pinpoint it," was the answer he finally settled for.

He heard Ron sigh from Ron's bed. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

There was a prolonged silence, and both Ron and Harry stared in opposite corners of the room, waiting for the other to say something. Harry had nothing he wanted to say.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron finally asked.

Because you might have punched me, thought Harry. "I didn't think you'd like the idea."

"You thought I would have told you that you can't date her," he clarified.

"Yeah."

Ron nodded. "Well, I don't love the idea."

Harry braced himself for the "and". What would Ron say? 'Don't date my sister'?

"But I don't really have a say in the matter, I guess."

Harry was silent.

"And I'm afraid to ask you to choose. So I won't."

That statement would have caused Harry some anxiety if it wasn't for the smirk he thought he caught on Ron's face. "Would you be able to choose? If someone asked you to?" he risked.

Harry figured he wouldn't have to explain the implication— Hermione was like Harry's sister, and Harry was pretty sure Ron knew that. Or at least he hoped so.

Ron thought for a moment. "I hope no one ever asks me to choose," he said, before trailing off. He appeared lost in his own moral dilemma, before he shook his head, as if emerging from a pensieve. "I don't want to know any details, ok? Don't tell me anything."

"Sounds like a plan," replied Harry, grinning. "Just don't ask."

With that, the boys came to an understanding.

-Making Plans-

"Ginny, listen . . . " he said very quietly, as the buzz of conversation grew louder around them and people began to get to their feet. "I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together. "

She said, with an oddly twisted smile, "It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?"

"It's been like . . . like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you," said Harry. "But I can't . . . we can't . . . I've got things to do alone now. "

She did not cry, she simply looked at him.

"Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you. "

"What if I don't care?" said Ginny fiercely.

"I care," said Harry. "How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral . . . and it was my fault . . . "

She looked away from him, over the lake.

"I never really gave up on you," she said. "Not really. I always hoped . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more-myself"

"Smart girl, that Hermione," said Harry, trying to smile. "I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages . . . months . . . years maybe . . . "

"But you've been too busy saving the wizarding world," said Ginny, half-laughing. "Well . . . I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much."

Harry could not bear to hear these things, nor did he think his resolution would hold if he remained sitting beside her. Ron, he saw, was now holding Hermione and stroking her hair while she sobbed into his shoulder, tears dripping from the end of his own long nose.

"She's going to be a mess," said Ron.

Harry and Ron were some of the last few that remained outdoors, as most of the student body had scurried away after Dumbledore's funeral. Hermione had accompanied Ginny back to the castle, and was likely hearing about their breakup. Harry figured Hermione would probably know exactly what to say to make Ginny feel better, and took some solace in the fact that she was in good hands.

Harry had dreaded telling Ron that he had ended things with Ginny, yet he wanted it to come from him. Now, he sat there, waiting for Ron to continue, to reprimand him, to yell at him, something. But he didn't.

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That must have been really hard for you."

Harry felt a wave of appreciation and gratitude for his friend, and his choice to play the part of his best mate, rather than his girlfriend's— ex-girlfriend's— brother. "It was. I didn't want to do, but—"

"But you can't put her at risk," finished Ron.

"Right," said Harry. "I can't."

A lot had happened in the last few hours. Dumbledore's funeral, breaking up with Ginny, and making plans, however vague and tentative they were, to spend the next year hunting horcruxes rather than attending school shouldn't have left a lot of mental space to talk about girls. Yet, here they were.

"I'm sure she understands why you did it," Ron consoled him. "We're not even coming back next year."

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that," said Harry. "You and Hermione shouldn't come with me."

"Bollocks."

"No really," said Harry. "You're not obligated to."

"We want to come," said Ron more firmly.

There was a part of Harry— a small part— that worried that Ron and Hermione's constant presence would be a distraction. He couldn't imagine that they would put their budding relationship on hold for an entire year just for his sake, and he certainly didn't want them to. If they did, they might just resort back to their normal form of bottling up their feelings for one another: bickering and arguing. He really did want them to be together.

However, he wasn't sure he wanted to be there for every moment. If they were at Hogwarts, they could sneak off to an empty classroom, or take a late night stroll around the lake, and Harry and Ron could live comfortably by not asking or telling each other anything. But if it was just the three of them crammed together for who knows how long, then a few awkward moments would be unavoidable.

And what if they broke up? Would one of them leave? Or would both stay, and would Harry be forced to play messenger between them like he had so many times before? Considering that Ron and Hermione's friendship was like a rollercoaster most of the time, Harry doubted that they'd be able to break up amicably, if it came to that. And what better way to test a relationship than to throw in a little bit of tent camping, and a lot of mortal danger.

Harry must have appeared to zone out, because Ron had to repeat himself.

"Harry? We want to come," he said again.

Although he'd be lonely, it was probably best if they didn't.

"Why don't you want us to come?" asked Ron cautiously.

"Are you two together?" he asked abruptly. "Seemed like it at the funeral."

Ron looked taken aback. "Ok, sure, change the subject," he muttered.

Harry hadn't intended it to be a change of subject, but the fact that Ron read it that way only reinforced his assumption that horcrux-hunting and fighting Voldemort might be too much for a young and fragile romance to withstand.

"Are you?"

"No."

"And you'd be willing to come with me, even if that's not sorted?"

Ron looked away and shrugged. "Not being sorted isn't exactly a change for us. We'll be fine."

Harry nodded, but wasn't at all reassured.

"Is that what you're worried about?" asked Ron. "Being around us?"

Harry shrugged. "It concerns me a little," he said diplomatically.

"You're not worried it'll be awkward, are you?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Ok fine. That's one of many things I'm worried about."

"We will be able to focus on the hunt, Harry."

Harry gave Ron a questioning glance. "Without arguing? Or worse, tearing each other's clothes off? Because I definitely can't handle that."

Ron scoffed, but his ears instantly turned red. "I… doubt you'll have to bear witness to any of that," he said. Harry might have imagined it, but it sounded like he said it with a hopeful tone.

"I sure hope not."

Ron nervously ran a hand through his hair. "So, you'll let us come?"

Harry laughed. "Do I have a say?"

"No," Ron replied, more seriously this time. "You don't."

Harry's smile faded, and he felt a sudden acceptance of what he had to do. "You're a good friend," he told Ron, who simply grinned contentedly. "Both of you are."

It was true. Harry wouldn't be able to get through the next year without their support. He needed both of them, whether their relationship was sorted or not.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

-Back to The Burrow-

Ron tripped dazedly toward Harry and Hermione.

"You're okay," he mumbled, before Hermione flew at him and hugged him tightly. "I thought – I thought –"

"'M all right," said Ron, patting her on the back. "'M fine."

"Ron was great," said Tonks warmly, relinquishing her hold on Lupin. "Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom –"

"You did?" said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck. "Always the tone of surprise," he said a little grumpily, breaking free.

"I've got to go too," said Harry. Ten pairs of startled eyes looked at him.

"Don't be silly, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, "What are you talking about?"

"I can't stay here."

He rubbed his forehead; it was prickling again, he had not hurt like this for more than a year.

"You're all in danger while I'm here. I don't want –"

"But don't be so silly!" said Mrs. Weasley. "The whole point of tonight was to get you here safely, and thank goodness it worked. And Fleur's agreed to get married here rather than in France, we've arranged everything so that we can all stay together and look after you –"

She did not understand; she was making him feel worse, not better.

"If Voldemort finds out I'm here –"

"But why should he?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"There are a dozen places you might be now, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "He's got no way of knowing which safe house you're in."

"It's not me I'm worried for!" said Harry.

"We know that," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "but it would make our efforts tonight seem rather pointless if you left."

Harry's anxiety had been heightened ever since he arrived at the Burrow. A lot had happened in the last few hours. It seemed like days ago when he was standing in his aunt and uncle's kitchen, watching his friends morph into mirror images of him, and feeling utterly awful that they were risking their lives for his sake. He still hadn't processed Hedwig or Mad Eye's deaths. He couldn't let himself think about it.

Part of him knew that he had to shut away any feelings of grief or else they'd overwhelm him. Otherwise, he wasn't going to make it through the war. Realistically, he knew that Hedwig and Mad Eye were only two lives, and the war would take many more than that.

Ron and Hermione were sitting on the sofa in the living room, giving him space, just like he'd asked them to. Watching them made the muscles in his chest clench, and his grief begged to surface and be heard. More than anything, he hoped that the war would spare them, but deep down he knew that he had to be prepared for the worst.

Obviously, their friendship meant the world to him. Life would not be worth living without either one of them. But it was more than that—watching them now, with their heads bowed together, and their arms around one another made him twist with guilt.

They were more than friends. Harry knew that. Ron and Hemione had to know that. There was a nagging voice telling Harry that it was his fault they weren't together.

His conversation with Ron last year had assured him— to some extent— that it wasn't, at least not entirely. Harry knew they still had some things to figure out, last year was rough on their relationship. But he also knew that if something happened to either one of them during the war, the other would be heartbroken because the future they were waiting for would completely shatter.

Harry couldn't have that. They needed to be together.

He started across the room to join the pair on the sofa. As soon as Hermione locked eyes with him, she stood to give him a hug. He felt himself relax under her embrace.

"I'm so glad you're ok," she mumbled with her head against his shoulder. When she pulled back Harry could see she had tears in her eyes.

He offered her a smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron stiffen, then relax, with a flash of an unreadable expression, a passing emotion, which disappeared as Ron forced a sad smile toward him.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione said, with a squeeze of Harry's shoulder and a quick glance back at Ron. "I'll see you both in the morning."

Harry nodded, and took up her old seat as she left for Ginny's room. He watched Ron's eyes follow her up the stairs. They harbored a look of concern, care, and something else that Harry didn't want to think too hard about.

"Are you ok?" he asked him, which brought his attention back.

"Erm—" he started. 'I don't know."

Harry nodded.

"I mean, I'm relieved," said Ron, when he found his words. "But at the same time, this was just day one. And we've already lost one."

"Two," Harry corrected.

It took Ron a moment of pause before realization dawned on his face. "I'm so sorry about Hedwig, mate."

"S'okay," muttered Harry. "I'm just glad you two are ok."

"Me too," he said, letting his words trail off as silence filled the space between them. He was looking vaguely back at the stairs, at the place where Hermione had just been.

Harry's next question brought Ron out of his reverie. "About you and Hermione—"

"No, Harry," he interrupted, suggesting he didn't want to talk about it. "It's nothing."

"I need to ask you this." He turned to face Ron. "I know you said you're not together because she needed time. Was that the only reason?"

His silence answered Harry's question. "You're not together because of the war?"

Ron shrugged. "A little bit of both. It's just… not the right time."

Harry wanted to know more, but he wasn't sure what questions to ask.

Luckily, Ron continued. "There was a lot of shit we had to work through after last year. I needed to understand about Krum. She needed to understand about Lavender. The canaries. It wasn't a healthy place to start a relationship."

"That makes sense… but why not now?"

"We talked a lot before you got here. Things are better now. Between us, I mean. But with the war and going on the run, I don't know if being together a good idea."

"What if something happens to one of you?"

Ron flinched at the thought, but stayed strong in his gaze. "Wouldn't being together make that harder?"

"I don't think so, no."

Harry couldn't tell if Ron was just being stubborn, or if he was reassessing his opinion, hopefully realizing that Harry was right, but he never found out.

"What are you two doing up?" Mrs. Weasley had just entered the room. "You both need some sleep, it's been a long day."

Harry could see the exhaustion and grief lines on her face and knew it was best not to argue. "You're right, Mrs. Weasley. We're going to bed."

"Sorry, Mum," added Ron, as the boys scurried up the stairs to Ron's attic bedroom, leaving the subject alone, at least for the rest of the night.

-Turning Seventeen-

"Here's your present. Unwrap it up here, it's not for my mother's eyes."

"A book?" said Harry as he took the rectangular parcel. "Bit of a departure from tradition, isn't it?"

"This isn't your average book," said Ron. "It's pure gold: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Explains everything you need to know about girls. If only I'd had this last year I'd have known exactly how to get rid of Lavender and I would've known how to get going with... Well, Fred and George gave me a copy, and I've learned a lot. You'd be surprised, it's not all about wandwork, either."

"She was really cut up when you ended it-"

"So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn't because I wanted to."

"Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she's just going to get her hopes up again-"

"She's not an idiot, she knows it can't happen, she's not expecting us to-to end up married, or-"

As he said it, a vivid picture formed in Harry's mind of Ginny in a white dress, marrying a tall, faceless, and unpleasant stranger. In one spiraling moment it seemed to hit him: Her future was free and unencumbered, whereas his...he could see nothing but Voldemort ahead.

"If you keep groping her every chance you get-"

"It won't happen again," said Harry harshly. The day was cloudless, but he felt as though the sun had gone in. "Okay?"

Ron looked half resentful, half sheepish; he rocked backward and forward on his feet for a moment, then said, "Right then, well, that's...yeah."

Harry gingerly opened the door to Ron's attic bedroom. They hadn't been alone since Ron's earlier confrontation, and he had a sense that their conversation wasn't over.

He was right— when he entered the room, Ron was awake and appeared to be waiting for him. The two boys stared at each other for a tense pause before Ron broke the silence.

"I'm sorry about earlier."

Harry was surprised by Ron's admission. "You are?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. As much as I hate to say it, you have every right to kiss my sister." He grimaced as he spoke. "I just don't want to see it."

"Well. You're the one who willingly walked in on us. You knew what was happening in there."

"Yeah, I know," he muttered. "Sorry."

Ron turned his attention to a loose thread on his pillow, and Harry sat on his camp bed to look at him. "What's else?"

"How did that happen, exactly?" muttered Ron.

"Sorry, what?" It sounded like Ron was asking about how he came to be kissing Ginny, and surely he wouldn't want details. Surely not.

"You know," he responded vaguely.

"Kissing Ginny?"

Ron winced as he nodded. "Yeah. You're not together."

Harry shrugged. "We used to be though, and with me leaving…," he trailed off. He could tell by the sympathetic look on Ron's face that he didn't need to explain further.

"Kind of a… 'now or never' thing, then?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah." The words sounded hollow in his throat. The thought that it might have been his last kiss with Ginny— ever— had crossed his mind, but he hadn't let himself say it out loud. He couldn't stop the words that came next. "You're lucky, you know."

Ron nodded, and Harry knew his meaning was clear, even if Ron didn't know how to verbalize it either. Then unexpectedly, he added, "Lavender just kissed me. I never saw it coming. It just sort of happened."

Harry smirked. Like Lavender's kiss, he hadn't seen this turn of conversation coming either, but he couldn't lie, it amused him a little. "And you wish that would happen with Hermione?"

Ron's face reddened. "You kissed Ginny."

Harry fondly remembered his first kiss with Ginny, and how he was the one who initiated it. He agonized over their first kiss for weeks, wondered how he could possibly make it happen, and he couldn't really explain how it did. Looking back though, it was really quite simple.

He knew telling Ron that wouldn't ease his anxieties, so he didn't.

"You were right the other day," said Ron. "A lot of what I said was just words."

"Was it?"

"You asked why we're not together. It's because you can't just kiss your best friend out of the blue."

"Do you really think it would be out of the blue?" asked Harry. "You've talked about it, right?"

"Sort of," he said. "We've talked about not getting together more than we've talked about being together. Does that make sense?"

"No," said Harry.

"We can both think of so many reasons not to be together, but I'm pretty sure it's just because neither of us knows how to go about actually being together."

"Sounds like you need your book back," joked Harry.

Ron laughed. "Trust me, I've memorized the damn thing."

Harry thought back to his own few months of anxiety before he dated Ginny. Most of his concern had to do with how Ron would react to it, and that fear managed to bury his nervousness to actually kiss her, but eventually, it still happened.

He knew Ron and Hermione would sort it out. Harry wasn't worried. They'd soon have an opportunity when it wouldn't be out of the blue. Then it occurred to him. "Ron, the wedding!"

"Sorry?" asked Ron. "What about the wedding?"

"It's a good opportunity to move things along. If that's what you want to do," said Harry before letting out a big yawn, and shifting to his back. "Just ask her to dance or something."

He knew he had no experience to ground his advice, but Ron still seemed to be seriously contemplating it as he extinguished the light with his wand. "Might work," he heard him mutter in the darkness.

They'll be fine, thought Harry.

-The Wedding-

They were all laughing so much that none of them noticed the latecomer, a dark-haired young man with a large, curved nose and thick black eyebrows, until he held out his invitation to Ron and said, with his eyes on Hermione, "You look vunderful."

"Viktor!" she shrieked, and dropped her small beaded bag, which made a loud thump quite disproportionate to its size. As she scrambled, blushing, to pick it up, she said "I didn't know you were – goodness – it's lovely to see – how are you?"

Ron's ears had turned bright red again. After glancing at Krum's invitation as if he did not believe a word of it, he said, much too loudly, "how come you're here?"

"Fleur invited me," said Krum, eyebrows raised.

"Come and dance," [Ron] added abruptly to Hermione.

She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up. They vanished together into the growing throng on the dance floor.

"Ah, they are together now?" asked Krum, momentarily distracted.

"Er- sort of," said Harry."

"Why is he here?" groaned Ron.

"Like he said," reminded Harry impatiently. "Fleur invited him—"

"Yeah I know," Ron snapped. "I didn't like the way he was looking at Hermione though. You don't think he'll ask her to dance, do you?"

Harry glanced over at Krum, who was currently engaging Hermione in conversation. He smiled at her, his eyes focused on hers like she was the only girl in the room. Hermione, however, looked quite distracted.

"He might," answered Harry honestly. "She'd rather dance with you though. I can tell."

"Better not be another Yule Ball," said Ron, watching Krum and Hermione enviously.

"Then don't let it be," said Harry, clapping Ron on the shoulder. "Let's find our seats, the wedding is about to start."

Ron and Harry waded through a crowd of guests until they found three available seats next to each other. There were more options elsewhere, and Harry wondered if Ron had picked these particular seats because there were only three openings, not more. As soon as they sat down, Ron scanned the crowd until he spotted Hermione, and breathed a sigh of relief that she was approaching them— alone.

Hermione sat down next to Ron, who slipped an arm around her shoulder possessively. She smiled and her cheeks turned pink as she leaned contentedly into Ron's shoulder.

Harry spotted Krum eyeing them from across the aisle and smirked. Ron must have seen him too, because he looked quite smug.

x

"You know what I just realized?" asked Ron, with a mouth full of food. Luckily for him, Hermione was distracted by Ginny and didn't notice his dinner nearly spilling out of his mouth.

"What?"

"I've never danced with anyone."

"You haven't?" Harry thought back to the Yule Ball, where he and Ron had sat sulking while their dates ran off with other people. Luckily, they'd both grown up and matured since then.

As if to prove that point, Ron reached for a napkin and wiped a dribble of gravy from his chin. He sent a curious look over to Hermione, who was still focused on her conversation.

"Never," he continued once Hermione proved distracted. "I reckon it's a weird thing to have never done. Don't you?"

"Maybe, but we didn't get many opportunities at school. She'll understand."

Ron shrugged. "I guess… what if I'm rubbish?"

"I doubt she'll care," said Harry.

"I bet Krum is a good dancer. It seemed so at the Yule Ball."

Ron fidgeted in his seat, and Harry could tell he was very nervous about it. He resisted the urge to smirk. "Just make sure you ask her before he does," he said, and he immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say by the way Ron's ears deepened in their crimson shade.

"Fuck," said Ron. "Why am I so nervous?"

Because you're in love with her, thought Harry.

"I wasn't even this nervous when Lavender tossed me off," he continued and Harry nearly choked on his drink.

"I'd recommend you start by asking for a dance," said Harry.

"Shut up," laughed Ron. He looked thoughtfully at Hermione before he added, "I'll ask her as soon as the dancing starts. It won't matter if I'm rubbish."

Harry smiled at his friend. Confidence looked good on him. Attaboy, he thought.

x

"Come and dance?" mocked Harry when he spotted Ron at the bar.

Ron's face flushed. "Sounded better in my head, but it worked ok."

"Sure did," said Harry. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good. I am a rubbish dancer though. Keep stepping on her feet," he said shrugging.

"Yet, she keeps dancing with you."

Ron beamed. "Yet, she does." His gaze went to Hermione on the dance floor, and he looked relieved when he saw her dancing with Ginny and Luna. "Did erm—Krum see us at all?"

"He did," said Harry, smiling to himself. "He actually asked if you two are together."

"Did he?" Ron looked quite pleased with himself. "What did you say?"

"I said you're sort of together. I hope that's ok..."

Ron nodded, mulling over Harry's response. "Wish you would have said that we are."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Did I miss something? Did a conversation happen while you were dancing?" He squinted at Ron who was quietly blushing. "A kiss?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I'd just like Krum to think so," he said. "But I can live with "sort of" though. For now, at least."

"Right," said Harry. "For now."

With a butterbeer in each hand, Ron smiled and turned on his heel to return to Hermione, his best friend, for now.

-Grimmauld Place-

It was the cool, clear blue of watered ink, somewhere between night and dawn, and everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione's slow, deep breathing. Harry glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside him. Ron had had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron's. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands. The idea made him feel strangely lonely.

"Harry? Harry? Harry!"

"I'm here!" he called, "What's happened?"

There was a clatter of footsteps outside the door, and Hermione burst inside.

"We woke up and didn't know where you were!" she said breathlessly. She turned and shouted over her shoulder, "Ron! I've found him"

Ron's annoyed voice echoed distantly from several floors below.

"Good! Tell him from me he's a git!"

"I'm still mad at you for disappearing," said Ron, when the pair found a moment alone in the drawing room.

"Sorry," mumbled Harry. He had been wrong to think he and Hermione would appreciate waking up alone.

"Just don't do it again," said Ron. "We need to stick together. All three of us, all the time."

Harry groaned. "I won't do it again, but if you two want a moment alone, please tell me."

Ron looked confused.

"It looked like you two fell asleep holding hands," he clarified. "Figured you'd have something to talk about when you woke up." Harry shrugged.

"Oh. So that's why you left us alone," said Ron, now grinning.

Harry nodded, choosing not to mention how seeing them immediately made him miss Ginny.

"Well I'll have you know," said Ron. "Hand-holding is as far as we got."

"Well that's good, considering that I was right next to you," he said, as Ron let out a quiet laugh. "Sorry your dance got interrupted."

"It's okay," shrugged Ron. "We'll get a chance."

"So what happened at the wedding? After we talked?"

Ron glanced into the hallway to make sure Hermione hadn't reappeared from the loo, and once confident she wouldn't overhear him, he continued. "I almost kissed her. At least I thought about it. Pretty sure she wanted me too."

"Why didn't you?"

"We were interrupted. Nothing kills the mood like a Death Eater attack."

"Of course." Harry knew the interruption was his fault, and he felt a shiver of guilt. "If you two ever need a moment alone, just let me know."

"No, it's ok," said Ron. "We wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. We can be subtle. That is, if anything ends up happening… it's still kind of a weird time to start a relationship—"

Ron stopped abruptly when Hermione descended the stairs. "Morning!" she said brightly.

"Morning!" said Ron a little too excitedly. Hermione chuckled.

"Just let me know," repeated Harry.

"Ok," spluttered Ron, his face turning red.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing," the two boys said in unison.

Hermione looked skeptical but shrugged it off, before having a seat next to Ron on the sofa. Ron stiffened slightly, then hesitantly slipped his arm around her shoulders. She looked quite pleased as she leaned into him, and for the second time that day, Harry felt like a third wheel.

-Before the Break-In-

"And this dramatic change in Ministry policy," said Harry, "involves warning the Wizarding world against me instead of Voldemort?"

"That's certainly a part of it," said Lupin, "and it is a masterstroke. Now that Dumbledore is dead, you- the Boy Who Lived, were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort. But by suggesting that you had a hand in the old hat's death, Voldemort has not only set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear amongst many who would have defended you."

"Meanwhile, the Ministry has started moving against Muggle-borns."

Lupin pointed at the Daily Prophet.

"Look at page two."

Hermione turned the pages with much the same expression of distaste she had when handling Secrets of the Darkest Art.

"Muggle-born Register!" she read aloud. "'The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called "Muggle-borns" the better to understand how they came to possess magical secrets.

"'Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force.

"'The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission.'"

"People won't let this happen," said Ron.

"It is happening, Ron," said Lupin. "Muggle-borns are being rounded up as we speak."

"About tomorrow, mate," said Ron. "Don't you agree that one of us should stay here?"

Harry sighed. He had seen this coming, but was curious to discover Ron's chosen pretense. "No, actually, I think we ought to stick together. We don't have a good way to communicate if we separate. Weren't you just saying so the other day?"

"Yeah but...you don't think that's like putting all our eggs in one basket?" he asked. "If we stick together, and we get captured, there'd be no one to continue the mission. There's no need for all of us to risk our lives tomorrow."

Harry groaned. "Ok, why don't you stay behind, then?"

"No—," started Ron, but he stopped when Harry smirked.

"I'll stay," suggested Harry, and Ron stayed silent, squinting at him questioningly. "You just want Hermione to stay back," he continued.

"Of course I do," said Ron. "Don't you?"

"No."

Ron scowled. "She's the most valuable one of us."

"I'd argue that I'm the most valuable, actually," said Harry. "And I don't feel comfortable going without Hermione, quite honestly."

Ron leaned back and crossed his arms, eyeing Harry suspiciously, "Hold on, so are you saying I'm the least valuable?"

"No comment," Harry joked, but his laughter died when a flash of hurt crossed Ron's eyes. "Look," he continued. "I know you're just worried about Hermione, but you're going to have to accept that all three of us are going to face danger this year. Hermione made the choice to be here, and she's willing to take the risks."

"I'm not willing for her to take the risks," said Ron.

"Doesn't matter," said Harry firmly. "She is, and we have to do the most effective thing, which isn't always going to mean protecting each other at all costs. I thought you understood this."

"I do," said Ron, "Like I said, I'm willing to die. I know she is too. It's just…" he trailed off, searching for the right words.

"There'd be no point if she died." Harry figured Ron was weighing the cost of the war on a very personal level. He was thinking about his family, his friends, and Hermione— the greater good wasn't on his mind as much as it was for Harry or Hermione. Ron was a pureblood, and even though the Weasleys were marked as "blood traitors", he didn't have the same kind of direct target on his back. Ultimately the status quo would be fine for Ron. It might even be worth maintaining in order to preserve the lives of those he loved. Harry and Hermione didn't have the luxury of thinking like that.

Ron's eyes narrowed and he held his mouth open to speak, but said nothing. There was no need, Harry knew what he was thinking.

"I bet she's willing to let you die," said Harry. It came out a bit more callous than he meant it to, but he needed Ron to understand that for Hermione, the stakes were much, much higher. Just like they were for him. Harry had no doubt that Hermoine loved Ron too, at least as much as he loved her, but she had not been afforded the opportunity to choose whether or not this war was worth fighting. The alternative would be as unlivable for her as for Harry.

"You think so?" asked Ron stiffly. His voice was trembling slightly, but Harry didn't know if it was from anxiety or anger.

"She's muggleborn. She has a target on her back almost as big as the one on mine. She altered her parents' memories, and they don't even know about her. Do you really think she plans to come out of this alive? Because I don't. I don't think she expects any of us to survive. She doesn't have the luxury of weighing the pros and cons of this fighting this war like you do. Unlike you, she's not just fighting for a future where you can be together, she's fighting for any sort of future at all." Harry could hear frustration in his tone, and he truly hoped it made Ron realize how important this was. He couldn't afford for Ron to second guess his commitment. "I'm sure she'd love to be together in the future though, if everything works out," added Harry, but it sounded pretty unconvincing, like an afterthought.

Ron's face had been growing redder as Harry spoke. His jaw was stiff and his fists were clenched, and his emotional reaction made Harry feel quite resentful, because Ron had agreed to this. He knew what he was getting into.

"You're right," Ron eventually said. "We have to be willing to let each other die."

"Well," started Harry, who wanted to contradict him, but really couldn't. "Yeah." Harry felt his stomach sink when he finally verbalized what he already knew. "It's the only way."

Ron nodded, then stood up. "Well then, I apologize for my selfishness," he said as he turned to walk out of the room. Harry grasped for something else to say that would lessen the grimness of the situation and offer some hope, but he couldn't think of anything at all.

-Splinched-

The moment his eyes fell upon Ron, all other concerns fled Harry's mind, for blood drenched the whole of Ron's left side and his face stood out, grayish-white, against the leaf-strewn earth. The Polyjuice Potion was wearing off now: Ron was halfway between Cattermole and himself in appearance, his hair turning redder and redder as his face drained of the little color it had left.

"What's happened to him?"

"Splinched," said Hermione, her fingers already busy at Ron's sleeve, where the blood was wettest and darkest.

Harry watched, horrified, as she tore open Ron's short. He had always thought of Splinching as something comical, but this... His insides crawled unpleasantly as Hermione laid bare Ron's upper arm, where a great chunk of flesh was missing, scooped cleanly away as though by a knife.

"Harry, quickly, in my bag, there's a small bottle labeled 'Essence of Dittany.'"

After they'd set up the tent and Hermione had secured their location with wards and protective enchantments, Harry startled when he heard a yelp. Ron must have woken up and been hit with the pain of his injury. Harry rushed into the tent to find Ron still writhing in pain as Hermione hastily cast every pain relief charm she could think of. Thank goodness for Hermione, he thought. He hadn't the forethought to bring Dittany, or even learn a single healing spell. Suddenly, he was overcome with the realization that he was unprepared for this endeavor. He had coasted on luck every time he met Voldemort, but that wouldn't be enough this time.

The last conversation he shared with Ron was haunting him now. If Hermione hadn't known exactly what to do, Ron might have died. As it turned out, just like Ron, Harry was not prepared for his friends to die.

Hermione finished up and put her wand back in her pocket with a trembling hand. "He'll be ok," she said as her voice cracked. She looked like she was trying to hold back tears.

Harry approached Hermione and embraced her. She stiffened in confusion at first—Harry didn't frequently initiate affection like this—but then she leaned into him and returned the hug. "Thank you," he said. "I don't know what I'd do without you," and he tightened his arms around her, overwhelmed with gratitude that she was alive, and by extension, Ron was too.

When they broke apart, Harry turned to face Ron, hoping to apologize for yesterday, but the fiery look in his eyes surprised him. For some reason, Ron looked like he wanted to hit Harry.

"I'll leave you two alone. I need to double check the protective enchantments," said Hermione as she turned toward the tent opening. Harry wondered if she sensed the tension between them.

"How are you feeling?" asked Harry cautiously, as soon as Hermione was out of earshot.

Ron maintained his glare. "I feel fine," he said curtly. Harry knew he was lying, because he winced as he said it.

Harry felt confused, but he carried on. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I guess I didn't realize that I feel the same way as you do."

Ron's jaw stiffened. "I'm sensing that."

"So, I'm sorry," continued Harry. "I'm so relieved you both are ok. I would have a really hard time doing this without you."

Ron nodded, but his face was growing redder. He wondered if he was saying the wrong thing.

"We need to protect each other. I think we are the strongest when we are all together. I… can't afford to lose either one of you." He paused, waiting for Ron to say something, feeling increasingly uncomfortable at his own vulnerability.

"Well," Ron finally said, precariously. "Right now you'd be stronger without me."

"That's not true—"

"Yes, it is," he continued. "I can't move my damn arm. I won't be able to run away from Death Eaters if they find us."

Harry hated to admit it, but Ron was right, and he hoped no one would find them there, or else he and Hermione would have to face a very painful decision.

"Well, I trust Hermione's charms to hide us. And I'm sure you'll recover very fast with her healing spells."

"Well thank goodness for Hermione then," said Ron. Harry stiffened at his tone, he sounded almost sarcastic, and he felt the immediate need to defend her.

"Yes. Thank goodness for Hermione," he said. "She saved your life just now. I didn't learn one healing spell to prepare for this. I didn't bring any Dittany with us. I didn't even pack a bag. Did you do any of that?"

Ron scowled but didn't answer his question. "You were just talking about how expendable she was yesterday."

"I never said that—"

"Well, you told me that I should start seeing her that way."

Harry groaned. He did not mean for Ron to interpret his words like that, but the best course of action was to admit it and throw Ron a bone. "I know it sounded like that. And I'm sorry. I'm trying to apologize for what I said. I think it took today for me to realize how much I deeply care for her."

"Ahh," said Ron, and his words had a vicious bite to them, one that made absolutely no sense to Harry. "You care for her, do you?"

"Of course! And you too. No one here is expendable, and I'm sorry if I suggested that."

Ron shook his head at Harry, and crossed his arms over his chest, wincing at the movement in his shoulder. "Well, I'm glad one of us gets to care."

Harry felt his own anger surfacing, and as much as he wanted to shake Ron by the shoulders and tell him he was wrong, and that he gets to care too, in fact that was actually his whole point, he knew that it would be fruitless. Ron was clearly in a dark mood, darker than he'd ever seen before, and it was probably best to let him have some space.

"I'm just going to leave you alone for a bit," he said, with as steady a voice as he could manage.

"Fine, go enjoy Hermione's company then," he shot back.

Gladly, thought Harry, as he turned to exit the tent.

-Leaving-

"Then GO!" roared Harry. "Go back to them, pretend you're got over your spattergroit and Mummy'll be able to feed you up and-"

Ron made a sudden movement: Harry reacted, but before either wand was clear of its owner's pocket, Hermione had raised her own.

"Protego!" she cried, and an invisible shield expanded between her and Harry on the one side and Ron on the other; all of them were forced backward a few steps by the strength of the spell, and Harry and Ron glared from either side of the transparent barrier as though they were seeing each other clearly for the first time. Harry felt a corrosive hatred toward Ron: Something had broken between them.

"Leave the Horcrux," Harry said.

Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you staying, or what?"

"I..." She looked anguished. "Yes- yes, I'm staying. Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help-"

"I get it. You choose him."

"Ron, no- please- come back, come back!"

She was impeded by her own Shield Charm; by the time she had removed it he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron's name amongst the trees.

After a few minutes she returned, her sopping hair plastered to her face.

"He's g-g-gone! Disapparated!"

She threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry.

Harry felt dazed. He stooped, picked up the Horcrux, and placed it around his own neck. He dragged blankets off Ron's bunk and threw them over Hermione. Then he climbed onto his own bed and stared up at the dark canvas roof, listening to the pounding of the rain.

Harry couldn't believe that Ron was gone. The tent felt cold, empty, and lonely, and it didn't help that Hermione was devastated. She was in the shower, most likely crying her eyes out. Harry knew she spent most of last night in tears, trying to drown out the sound of her sobs with the shower stream, but he had been in no place to comfort her.

He should have seen this coming. He might have been able to do more to prevent it if he had. Looking back, there were tons of warning signs.

x

After trying to tend to his injury one night, Hermione stormed out of the bedroom looking angry and hurt, her eyes glistening with tears. "What happened?" asked Harry.

"Ron,' said Hermione through clenched teeth. "He thinks he doesn't need me to help him anymore. His wound still breaks open when he moves his shoulder too much, and he wants me to leave it!"

"I'll go talk to him," Harry said, attempting a reassuring smile, but she didn't return it.

"Good luck," she simply said. "I'll doubt he'll listen to you."

She had been right, he didn't listen at all. He was wearing the locket then, which Harry remembered because he had to move it out of the way to look at his shoulder scar, and he hated touching that thing. "Why don't you want any more dittany? If you stopped telling Hermione to leave every time she came in to help you, you might have been healed already.

Harry should have known that something was wrong, because Ron was being irrational. Sometimes his logic stumbled, but this was on a different level. "I don't want her to help me."

"Why not? She's really good at this sort of thing," Harry said.

"I can take care of myself," Ron said coldly.

"Normally, yeah, but right now you're injured, and she's happy to help you. She was upset that you didn't let her."

"Well maybe you should go see if she's alright," he said insincerely. "I'm sure she misses you right now."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, Ron?" asked Harry.

"And it's your turn to take this damn thing," he said, as he pulled off the locket and tossed it to Harry.

Harry winced when he caught it, but Ron was right, it was Harry's turn to wear it. He reluctantly slipped the locket around his neck and stiffened as the subtle shiver of Voldemort filtered into him.

"Fuck," said Ron, as soon as he had taken it off. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

Harry was in no mood for his apology, especially now that he had the locket. "It's fine," he said.

"Can you tell Hermione to come back in here?" asked Ron. "I regret how I spoke to her just now."

Harry groaned and turned around to find her. "Sure."

"Thanks, Harry," said Ron, and that time it sounded sincere.

x

Days later, Ron was on watch, and Harry could see Ron sitting at the tent entrance, twiddling the locket in between his fingers. His cup of warm tea was losing its heat quickly, and Ron appeared not even to remember it was there. He was supposed to keep his focus outside, watching for danger, yet he was staring intently at Harry. And honestly, it was creeping him out.

There was a crisp bite to the air, and Hermione had been shivering in her bed. Harry would have offered her his jumper first, but he worried it would offend Ron. He was so touchy these days, especially about his interactions with Hermione. It was almost as if Ron was interpreting romantic intentions behind everything he did for her, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

Harry stood up and carefully approached Ron. "Can Hermione wear your jumper? She's quite cold."

"Why isn't she asking me for it?" grumbled Ron.

"Well she's shivering under her bed covers, and that would involve getting out of bed and getting colder," he stated simply.

"If I give her my jumper, I'll be cold," he had said.

"Fine then, I'll give her mine," shrugged Harry. "I just know she'd prefer yours."

"I doubt it," he said. "Maybe you should crawl into bed with her too. I bet she'd like that."

"I'm pretty sure we'd both hate that," said Harry, but Ron didn't respond, he just continued to stare intently in the direction of the bedroom, and Harry was unsettled by the fact that he couldn't read the expression on his face at all.

Ron's weird and creepy mood didn't improve until hours later, when Harry took over watch and Ron gave him the locket. Now Harry sat there brooding, although less intensely than Ron had. When Harry reentered the room later that night to grab an extra blanket, he found his jumper on his bed. He looked at Hermione to see she was now wearing Ron's, and Ron was asleep in his own bed wearing nothing but a simple vest, his splinching scar visible in the moonlight.

Harry should have insisted then that Ron stop wearing the locket, but he didn't, and things kept getting worse.

x

Over time, the effect of the locket grew stronger and stronger, and Harry stopped feeling confident that the real Ron would return when he took it off. The day before he left, Ron was nearly unrecognizable.

Hermione was in the kitchen while Ron was on watch— wearing the locket. Harry sat by the coffee table, pouring over the notes they'd been collecting to help them with the hunt. Harry and Hermione had been desperately researching and planning their next move, while Ron... well... brooded.

Hermione approached Harry and set a mug of tea down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Thanks," he said brightly, smiling at her.

"You're welcome!" She then turned to Ron. "Hey Ron," she asked nervously. "How would you like your tea?"

Ron glared up at her, and Hermione froze, patiently waiting for his answer. Harry could tell he made her nervous. "Why are you asking that?"

"Well," stammered Hermione. "I just made tea and I thought you'd like some."

"Why didn't you ask Harry how he likes his tea?"

"Um," said Hermione. "Because he likes it black, and I know you don't."

"So you know how Harry takes his tea but you don't know how I take mine?" asked Ron angrily.

"Yes, Ron, I know how Harry likes his tea." Hermione was raising her voice now, and Harry willed her to keep calm. "Because Harry actually accepts tea graciously and doesn't scream at me when I bring it to him, unlike you."

"Well maybe if you knew how I took it then I wouldn't need to scream at you," said Ron.

"Nevermind Ron, get your own tea if you want any," said Hermione shrilly.

"I will. Don't bring me anything. Just keep doing things for Harry and batting your fucking eyelashes, and I'll just be over here, alone in the cold." He turned back around to look outside, and crossed his arms over his chest like a disgruntled toddler.

"I can't wait to get rid of that stupid locket," muttered Hermione as she sat down on the couch next to Harry.

Harry noticed Ron send a glare in his direction when she huddled closely toward him, and he knew that telling him their proximity to one another had everything to do with temperature, and nothing to do with— whatever he was probably thinking— would be pointless, so he never did. He simply tried to ignore his piercing glare, and focus on brainstorming with Hermione. And just like Hermione had said, he couldn't wait to get rid of the stupid locket either.

x

Harry had much more clarity now that Ron was gone. The effect of the locket had grown stronger and stronger, so when Ron did finally take the locket off, he didn't snap back to normal like used to weeks prior. Each time he took it off, it took more time to settle back into his normal personality, and eventually, he was never able to fully recover in between stints of wearing it.

He had probably formulated a plan to leave while wearing the locket, and even though they wrangled it off of him, the effect had lingered long enough for him to go through with it. Harry rubbed at his temples, trying to rid himself of a headache, but knew he would have no success. His head hurt because of grief. He missed his best friend, and it felt like his grief was overdue, because he'd been missing Ron since the moment that locket came into their lives.

He had done his best to prepare himself for the possibility that someone he loved might die, but he hadn't prepared to be left. In a way, this hurt even more, and as he listened to the sound of the shower running, fully aware that Hermione was using it to muffle her tears, he knew she probably felt the same way.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

-Ron Returns-

The sword clanged as Ron dropped it. He had sunk to his knees, his head in his arms. He was shaking, but not, Harry realized, from cold. Harry crammed the broken locket into his pocket, knelt down beside Ron, and placed a hand cautiously on his shoulder. He took it as a good sign that Ron did not throw it off.

"After you left," he said in a low voice, grateful for the fact that Ron's face was hidden, 'she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn't want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone…"

He could not finish; it was only now that Ron was here again that Harry fully realized how much his absence had cost them.

"She's like my sister," he went on. "I love her like a sister, and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that. I thought you knew."

Harry continued to watch as Ron's sobs subsided, unsure whether to remove his hand or offer an awkward, reassuring pat on the back. It was not a situation for which he'd ever thought to prepare himself; he never imagined being an object of envy for Ron.

His relationship with Hermione had always been purely platonic, so much so that he never once felt the need to remind Ron about the nature of their friendship.

"You know that right?" he eventually asked, once Ron seemed settled enough to speak. "She really is like a sister to me."

Ron nodded, but his face was still buried in his hands. Harry removed his arm and let it hang awkwardly by his side. Was there anything else he could say?

"I'm sure she'll be really happy to see you," he added. As soon as the words slipped out, he nearly regretted them. Yes, he thought Hermione would be happy to see Ron, but he didn't think she'd show it right away.

"You do?" Ron asked. His tone was unsure, understandably so. "She'll be bloody furious, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe not. You did save my life tonight."

"Didn't save hers." Ron sat still on the cold ground, now rubbing his temples, and Harry had the feeling he was stalling. There was more he could say, he knew it, yet there seemed to be no words to accurately convey his thoughts.

For one, Ron's absence over the last few weeks had proved something to Harry; Ron was the glue that held them together. He always had been. He couldn't explain why, that even when Ron was an injured, pessimistic mess, it was his absence that slowed them down. The only way for Ron to be deadweight was to be gone. Hermione knew that too.

He had a feeling that straight-up telling that to Ron would get him a scoff, so he started small. "It's better with you here."

Ron shook his head. "I was useless."

"No," said Harry. "We were useless with you gone."

Ron didn't seem to register any reassurance in Harry's statement. "I never should have left."

"I shouldn't have antagonized you," he said finally. "I should have realized the hold that locket had on you."

Ron glared at the lifeless locket on the ground between them. "Yeah, well it's gone now."

"Thanks to you," reminded Harry.

A fleeting smirk crossed Ron's face but it disappeared quickly. Progress.

"She really can be a nightmare, you know that, right?" asked Harry cautiously, watching Ron in his peripheral vision. "It's way worse without you."

Ron cocked an eyebrow, which Harry took as an invitation to elaborate.

"Like I said, some days we wouldn't talk at all, and other days we would just argue. I can't argue with her the same way as you. She doesn't listen to me. You have a way of softening her up, making her see sense."

Ron didn't say anything, but he set his shoulders back slightly, and his expression looked somewhere between proud and smug.

"Her and I get along a lot better when you're here. She was just kind of… empty without you. Same with me. I honestly don't think either one of us has smiled since you left."

"You really think she'll be happy I'm back?"

"I think she'll be grateful that you're back," he said hesitantly, fully aware of the implications of his word choice. Hermione would be grateful, but it might not manifest as happiness. They had yet to see how she'd react, and what the new dynamic would be, but it would be better than what it was without Ron.

"I hope so," said Ron, rising cautiously to his feet. "We'd better find out."

Following Ron's lead, Harry stood up as well. "For the record, I'm also happy you're back. Just in a different way, of course."

Ron smiled, and the pair turned to make their way back through the woods toward the tent. Things would be much, much better now. Ron was essential to their friendship functioning; without him, communication had just been off. Ron understood Hermione, and Harry was glad to have his translator back. There'd likely be some anger at first, as everyone adjusted to his return, but Hermione and Ron bickering and fighting with each other would be much preferable to them not being together at all. Harry was sure of that now.

-After The Locket-

Harry had not expected Hermione's anger to abate overnight, and was therefore unsurprised that she communicated mainly by dirty looks and pointed silences the next morning. Ron responded by maintaining an unnaturally somber demeanor in her presence as an outward sign of continuing remorse. In fact, when all three of them were together Harry felt like the only non-mourner at a poorly attended funeral. During those few moments he spent alone with Harry, however (collecting water and searching the undergrowth for mushrooms), Ron became shamelessly cheery.

"Someone helped us," he kept saying. "Someone sent that doe. Someone's on our side. One Horcrux down, mate."

Harry nodded along to Ron's cheerful rambling while the two were out plucking mushrooms for dinner. It was always such a quick change from the mopey, remorseful Ron that Harry was so used to around Hermione, that it took a second for Harry to adjust.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Someone helped us, but I have no idea who it was."

"Let's think about it," said Ron excitedly. "Who do you know whose Patronus is a doe?"

"My mum."

"Well… it can't be your mum, mate. So, who else?"

Harry felt a ping of grief at Ron's words — the possibility of the Patronus being Lily's had crossed his mind more than once. Ron reminded him of Hermione back in third year, when he had originally assumed that the stag Patronus that had saved Sirius had belonged to his father. "I dunno, Ron."

"I bet Hermione would know," he pressed, clearly oblivious to the irritated tone of Harry's voice. "Have you asked her?"

"She doesn't know. If she knew she would have said something when we told her about the doe."

Ron disagreed. "I dunno, she hasn't exactly been talkative lately. I bet she's holding back information because she's still mad at me.'

"Do you really think she'd do that?" questioned Harry. Hermione wasn't one to spitefully hold back knowledge that could help them.

"Yes."

"She'll talk when she has information to share. That's how it was when you were gone." Ron winced at Harry's words, which filled him with guilt. "Look, why don't you talk to her the way you're talking to me right now? You'd probably get more out of her."

"Trust me, I know how to make her talk to me again. I've done this before," said Ron, and Harry had to hand it to him — maybe he was more knowledgeable about wiggling out of arguments with Hermione. He did have more experience there, after all.

"I'm just saying," continued Harry. "Progress seems slow. Things are quite grim when she's around. You're quite sad around her."

"Just reading the room," shrugged Ron.

The pair fell into silence as they continued their hunt for anything edible on the forest floor. As usual, Harry was struggling to adjust to Ron's sudden demeanor change, so he didn't have much to say to him. When Ron spoke next, he took a different tone.

"You think she'll forgive me, right? Eventually?"

"You seemed quite confident just then," he said, noticing Ron's uneasy expression. "You're not confident, are you?"

"I've just never done something this bad."

"She'll forgive you. She's already more tolerable than she was a few weeks ago. Like I said, she hardly spoke to me when you were gone. You being back helps, even if she doesn't exactly show it."

Ron's soft smile indicated that Harry had managed to reassure him, at least a little. "Maybe I should save her life too."

"I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities," said Harry, half-joking. The unfortunate thing was, what happened in the lake would probably happen again. They'd likely all have a chance to save each other in the near future, but he didn't feel like ruining Ron's mood directly after cheering him up again. "That's a lot of mushrooms. Maybe we should go back?"

"Yeah," said Ron, shrugging. "In a bit."

"What's wrong?" Harry followed Ron's gaze back to the tent, where they could see a mini-Hermione seated in front of the tent flap, keeping watch.

"It's nice being out here, that's all."

Harry smiled. "Away from Hermione?"

"Yes," said Ron, returning Harry's smile. "But, not in so many words."

Harry laughed. "Maybe you're going about this all wrong. You don't have to act like a zombie around her."

"I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around her, and I don't want to say the wrong thing. She expects me to act sad, so I will."

"She expects you to be sorry, which you are," said Harry. "Honestly, you're acting a lot like you did before you left, back when you were under the locket's influence."

"How exactly was I acting?" he asked.

Harry looked at him curiously. He probably didn't know — the locket's influence on him had been quite heavy, and his perception was probably lacking detail. "Somber and pessimistic. Now that's what pissed her off."

Ron scowled before sighing, "You're right. I'm doing this all wrong, aren't I?"

Harry shrugged. "Is whatever you're doing working?"

Ron glanced back to the tent, where Hermione was still sitting grumpily. "No."

"Then try something different."

-Seven Years-

"I think we should vote on it," said Ron. 'Those in favor of going to see Lovegood —"

His hand flew into the air before Hermione's. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own.

"Outvoted, Harry, sorry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.

"Fine,' said Harry, half amused, half irritated. "Only, once we've seen Lovegood, let's try and look for some more Horcruxes, shall we?"

When Hermione had returned to her bunk, Harry lowered his voice.

"You only agreed to try and get back in her good books."

"All's fair in love and war," said Ron brightly, "and this is a bit of both."

"You were right, by the way." Ron plopped down into his bed with a smile on his face, which had the unintended effect of softening Harry's irritation. He still didn't really want to waste time on a visit to Xenophilius Lovegood, but on the other hand, Ron looked quite content, and that was a welcome change.

"What was I right about?" asked Harry.

"Being cheerful. It's working. I'm getting back on Hermione's good side!"

Harry chuckled. "Well I'm glad. But now we have to waste time to go see Xenophilius Lovegood, so thank you for that."

"You said it yourself," argued Ron. "Hermione's ideas are usually good. She was right about Godric's Hollow—"

Harry sent a look to Ron—Ron knew Harry didn't like talking about Godric's Hollow. He wasn't there, and he didn't know the true horror.

"She just thinks there's something important about that symbol, and I agree with her," he finished, taking Harry's hint to avoid the topic.

"Of course you do," challenged Harry. "Why don't you just tell her how you feel instead of involving our plans?"

Ron raised his eyebrows, a blush creeping up his neck. "How I feel?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Tell her you love her."

"I've never really said that—"

Maybe Ron hadn't said the words exactly, but they both knew it. He'd implied them enough times that Harry's advice shouldn't come as a surprise. "Sure you have. 'All's fair in love and war', right? The locket said so too. We both know that's how you feel—"

"Okay, true," conceded Ron. "That's definitely how I feel. But she's not ready to hear it yet."

"How do you know?"

"It's too soon," he shrugged. "She hasn't forgiven me."

"Maybe she hasn't completely forgiven you, but that's probably because she doesn't know how you feel."

Ron considered him for a moment, which filled Harry with self-consciousness. He wasn't exactly an expert on relationships, and really didn't have much to offer Ron. He was just sick of them beating around the bush, and he knew he'd like to see them communicate their feelings to each other, not just to him.

"It's too much too soon," said Ron eventually.

"Have you told her what the locket said?" pressed Harry.

"I haven't," said Ron.

"Don't you think she should know?"

"Eventually she should, yeah," nodded Ron.

"Don't waste too much time." Harry was now reminded of his own regret, the reason he didn't have much to offer in the realm of relationship experience—Ginny. "There's a lot I wish I had said to Ginny before the war, and I never got a chance," he continued cautiously, expecting some resistance from Ron at the mention of his sister.

Surprisingly, Ron didn't show any aversion to the topic. "You will have another chance," he stated with confidence—maybe too much.

Harry wasn't so confident, all the more reason Ron should learn from his mistake. "Tell her."

"I feel like we just became friends again," Ron sighed. "You don't think it would be too fast?"

Harry laughed. "It's been seven fucking years, mate."

To Harry's relief, Ron chuckled too. The blush in his cheeks persisted as a lopsided grin spread across his face. "So, too soon?"

Harry groaned harder, which made Ron laugh again. Ron would tell her eventually, and they'd sort it out, of that Harry was hopeful.

It'd been seven goddamn years, but who was counting?

-Malfoy Manor-

"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."

"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except...except for the Mudblood."

Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.

"No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"

Bellatrix hit him across the face; the blow echoed around the room.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she said. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book."

"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed, and he started to writhe and struggle against the ropes tying them together, so that Harry staggered. "HERMIONE!"

"Be quiet!" Harry said. "Shut up, Ron, we need to work out a way —"

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"We need a plan, stop yelling — we need to get these ropes off —-"

"How is she?" asked Harry as he approached Ron, who had collapsed in the hallway with his back against the wall. Ron's head had sunk into his hands and his knees were crossed; his lanky legs gave him the appearance of a dead, crumpled-up spider. Harry had never seen him like this before and was reminded of a distraught Hermione last year, crying over a poisoned Ron in the hospital wing.

Harry slid onto the floor next to Ron and rested a hand on his shoulder. To Harry's surprise, Ron didn't shake it away or flinch under his touch, but settled into the comfort. The overwhelming grief that Harry had just been feeling for Dobby started to dissipate, replaced with concern for his best friend.

"She's okay," mumbled Ron. "At least Bill and Fleur think she will be."

Harry sighed in relief, and felt unshed tears stinging his own eyes. He hadn't let himself think of the possibility that she might not be okay, because he only had room to grieve one death at a time. In addition to the piercing pain of losing Dobby, he wouldn't have been able to handle it if something had happened to Hermione too.

"Why aren't you in there?" asked Harry. He knew Ron wanted to be.

"Fleur's helping her change," he answered. "I figured she'd want some privacy."

Harry nodded. "Is she awake?"

Ron shrugged, causing Harry's hand to rise and fall over his shoulder. He squeezed it harder. "Sort of."

Harry nodded again, dread pooling into his stomach. There was one particular thing that concerned Harry the most about Hermione's torture, and he didn't have to ask Ron to elaborate.

"She's alive, Ron," he reiterated.

"I know," he signed. "By some crazy stroke of luck."

"You saved her life."

Ron shook his head. "Dobby saved her life."

Harry paused. He didn't want to be reminded of Dobby and the grave that he had yet to dig. He wasn't even sure if Ron yet knew that Dobby was dead, and if he didn't, this was probably not the time to tell him.

"And you," said Harry, keeping the conversation away from Dobby. "You apparated her out of there. You kept your cool when Bellatrix was about to kill her. If it wasn't for you she'd be—"

"Don't say it."

Harry nodded and stopped. He didn't want to say it either. Dead. He forced himself to feel grateful that she wasn't dead, but it was hard. Dobby was, and Hermione might not fully come back. And if she didn't, neither Ron nor Harry would ever recover.

"She's alive. We've still got her." It sounded like an attempt at trying to convince himself, and he hoped it wasn't evident to Ron.

"What if she's not the same?" asked Ron, finally expressing what they were both afraid to say.

"She will be," said Harry, feigning confidence.

Ron shook his head. "She might not. You've seen Neville's parents."

Dread filled Harry again. He couldn't stand the thought of Hermione spending a lifetime at St. Mungo's and not remembering their names.

"That won't happen," said Harry, but his voice was shaky and unconvincing.

Ron leaned his head back against the wall and Harry finally got a glimpse of his red, tear-streaked face. "I'll still love her, you know."

Harry smiled softly, and tears finally let loose from his own eyes. "I know you will," he said. "I will too."

They were interrupted by the hallway door cracking open. Fleur popped her head out and looked at Ron. "She's awake, and she's asking for you."

With a final tentative glance at Harry, who gave a reassuring nod, Ron rose to his feet, took a deep breath, and entered the room, the door closing quietly behind him.

-Shell Cottage-

Hermione slowly recovered over the next few weeks at Shell Cottage, and Ron hardly left her side. There seemed to be a mutual understanding that Ron would only emerge from Hermione's room for mealtimes, and when he himself needed some sleep.

At first, Hermione spent most of her time under the influence of Dreamless Sleep, and the circles under Ron's eyes only grew thicker and darker the longer she slept. She hadn't been able to say much the first night, and Harry knew Ron was desperate to really talk to her. Harry was too. It was a few days before she was awake long enough for a full conversation.

Ron was at the kitchen table with Harry and Bill when Fleur trotted down the stairs one morning to inform him. "Ron, she's awake. She wants to talk to you."

Without finishing his toast, Ron dropped his plate onto the table and took the stairs two at a time.

Harry was about to follow him, but upon witnessing Ron's excitement, he figured it'd be best to give them some time alone, so he returned to his breakfast, his toe tapping with excitement to talk to her again… soon.

Bill was staring at the seat Ron had just occupied, looking amused. "Ron really cares about that girl, doesn't he?"

Harry nodded.

"It's mutual," said Fleur. "She cares too. I can tell."

Bill smiled and looked back at Harry. "How long have they been together?"

"Oh, erm…" started Harry, unsure how to answer. "Technically they aren't. Not yet."

Bill and Fleur exchanged a knowing glance, and thankfully, no one asked Harry any more questions.

x

After helping Bill and Fleur clean up breakfast, Harry made his way up the stairs toward Hemione's room. He knocked tentatively, opening the door only when he heard Ron's whispered invitation.

Unfortunately for Harry, Hermione was asleep again. Her wild hair draped across the pillows, the scar on her neck looked significantly fainter than when they first arrived, and her hand was encased by Ron's firm, protective grip.

"She's sleeping,' said Ron. "She could barely keep her eyes open."

"Sorry," Harry replied. "I know you were hoping to talk to her."

When Harry glanced back up at Ron, he was wearing a bright smile. "I did talk to her, Harry. For a while. She's back. Like, completely back."

Harry felt a wave of relief. "I'm so happy to hear that," he said, reaching for Hermoine's other hand and giving it a squeeze. He was still disappointed that he didn't get to talk to her, but he knew he would soon enough. Ron was the one she needed. "Maybe we should let her get some rest?"

"I'd like to stay here for a bit, if you don't mind," said Ron. He looked at her with such a tender expression that Harry had no problem granting him his wish.

"Of course. See you in a bit," he said on his way out the door. He couldn't help the grin from forming on his face — he could tell that something had finally shifted between them, even if it was unspoken.

x

Now that Hermione was more lucid, Harry saw less and less of Ron — at least while he was alone. He continued to spend most of his time at her bedside, and when he left the upstairs bedroom, he was usually accompanied by her, wrapping a supportive arm around her in case she needed his help to remain steady on her feet.

He'd return to the living room couch at a later hour each night, and Harry would greet him with a knowing smile. Then one night, he didn't return at all.

Ron was groggy the following morning when he stumbled into the kitchen. "When he asked, I told Bill you went up to her room early this morning. Don't think he believed me though."

"Thanks," said Ron, flushing red.

"How is she doing?"

Ron shrugged and rubbed his eyes. "Not great, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I'm going to sleep up there from now on," said Ron. "Can you cover for me if Bill asks again?'

"Ron, what's wrong with Hermione?"

Ron glanced around the kitchen to assure that no one was listening through the doorway. When confident it was clear, he continued. "The Dreamless Sleep potion that Fleur's been giving her isn't working anymore. She's getting nightmares. Bad ones. It seems that she's reliving everything that happened at Malfoy Manor."

"Then tell Fleur to give her a higher dose," said Harry.

"She's already on the highest dose that's considered safe," he said, now running his hands through his hair. "Luna said the nightmares usually start after I leave, so last night I just stayed with her."

"And she still had them?"

"Yeah," he said, "but they weren't as bad, and after a short while they went away. Luna suggested that me being with her helped."

"Then you should stay," said Harry. "I'm sure Bill would understand. But just in case he doesn't, I won't tell him."

"You don't mind?" asked Ron.

"Of course not."

After that, Ron never returned to the living room to sleep at night, and no one, not even Bill questioned it.

-Gringotts-

"Okay, Ron, come here so I can do you..."

"Right, but remember, I don't like the beard too long"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, this isn't about looking handsome"

"It's not that, it gets in the way! But I liked my nose a bit shorter, try and do it the way you did last time."

Hermione sighed and set to work, muttering under her breath as she transformed various aspects of Ron's appearance. He was to be given a completely fake identity, and they were trusting the malevolent aura cast by Bellatrix to protect him. Meanwhile, Harry and Griphook were to be concealed under the Invisibility Cloak.

"There," said Hermione, "how does he look, Harry?"

It was just not possible to discern Ron under his disguise, but only, Harry thought because he knew him so well. Ron's hair was now long and wavy; he had a thick brown beard and mustache, no freckles, a short, broad nose, and heavy eyebrows.

"Well, he's not my type, but he'll do," said Harry.

Harry followed closely behind Ron and Hermione on their way to Diagon Alley, his stomach sick with emotion.

He hated to admit that he was nervous, but breaking into Gringotts was probably one of the most dangerous things they would ever do. They were no strangers to peril, but there was a good chance they wouldn't be getting out of this one alive.

The pit in his stomach grew when he looked at his friends disguised as Death Eaters. If they died on this mission, the last faces he would see would be Bellatrix Lestrange's, and Ron's unrecognizable, vilified one. It was too soon to grieve them, but he was tempted.

Griphook's hot breath against his neck wasn't helping; it only made him angrier.

He wanted to stare at the ground and pretend the real Ron and Hermione were there, but that wasn't quite enough. Finding something familiar about them would be more comforting so instead, he watched his friends, scanning for anything recognizable that he could focus on.

At first he found nothing. He looked at Hermione and wanted to hurt her for killing Dobby and torturing his best friend. He almost imagined reaching into his pocket for his wand — that's how little he recognized Hermione. It scared him.

Ron was a complete stranger, showing no traces of the man who he had grown to think of as a brother, and the unfamiliarity he felt overwhelmed him with a premature sense of loss.

Their walk took some time, and Harry kept studying them, desperate for a hint of the real Ron and Hermione to emerge. That was when he began to see it.

The way Ron instinctively reached for Hermione's hand when she stumbled on the cobblestones. Hermione's constant glances behind her to assure that Ron was still safely there.

They walked close to each other, and Ron's hand would brush hers, or he'd reach for the small of her back before recoiling away, as if suddenly remembering he was supposed to be impersonating someone else.

One time, Hermione even reached her fingers toward Ron's hair to brush it out of his eyes, and he smiled at her as if he didn't even see Bellatrix at all.

"They're acting too friendly with each other," observed Griphook, a whispered growl in Harry's ear. "You should tell them to act colder, someone will know they're imposters."

Harry knew Griphook was right, but he didn't want to say anything to them, at least not right away. There was something comforting about seeing them act that way, a reminder that love permeates superficial disguises.

"I will tell them," said Harry. "But not yet. I'll do it when we get to Gringotts."

He could hear Griphook's sigh of disapproval float across his neck but at the moment, he really didn't care.

-The Battle of Hogwarts-

"Hang on a moment!" said Ron sharply. "We've forgotten someone!"

"Who?" asked Hermione.

"The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"

"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" asked Harry.

"No," said Ron seriously, "I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want anymore Dobbies, do we? We can't order them to die for us."

There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.

"Is this the moment?" Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. "Oi! There's a war going on here!"

Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.

"I know, mate," said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, "so it's now or never, isn't it?"

"Never mind that, what about the Horcrux?" Harry shouted. "D'you think you could just... just hold it in until we've got the diadem?"

"Yeah... right… sorry..." said Ron, and he and Hermione set about gathering up fangs, both pink in the face.

A lot was happening. Walls were crumbling. Curses were flying. People were screaming. Yet, as Ron threw hexes, hurdled over rubble, and dodged Death Eaters, he still wore a goofy, lopsided grin.

"Focus, Ron!" yelled Harry. "Stupefy!"

"I am focused!" said Ron, ducking at the exact right moment so a flash of red light missed him by millimeters.

Harry laughed, which almost felt disrespectful to his current duel — the Death Eater across the hall from him seemed to think so.

"You think this is funny, boy?" he growled as he launched another spell from his wand. Harry hardly had time to react, and before he could dodge it, a chunk of rubble flew in front of his face, missing him by a hair, but effectively intercepting the spell.

"Sorry, mate!" hollered Ron. "Didn't think that would get so close to you!"

Harry looked around; in one hand, Ron pointed his wand at the Death Eater, but his eyes were constantly scanning the corridor for threats. He was situated against the wall with a clear line of sight to everything — Hermione further down the hall, assisting a team of students to flush out an outnumbered pair of Death Eaters, Harry dueling, albeit distractedly, and both ends of the hall where deadly forces could enter any time.

Maybe Ron really was focused, and it was just Harry who was distracted. Why?

"Harry! Look out!" It was Hermione's voice this time as she returned from her spot down the hall, having successfully emptied the corridor of extraneous threats.

A jet of blue light that Harry didn't recognize was speeding his way, and before he could react, Harry's feet collapsed underneath him. Ron had tackled him to the ground in the nick of time. The mysterious blue light brushed over the top of Harry's head.

"YOU!" yelled the Death Eater, now rounding on Hermione, clearly overwhelmed by her return, now that he was outnumbered by two. He recoiled his wand, preparing for a powerful cast. "AVADA—"

"NOOOO!" shouted Ron and Harry together. Then, multiple things happened at once:

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shoved the hex in the man's direction, but he missed.

"KEDAVRA!" finished the Death Eater, and the spell burst forth from his wand, speeding like a laser toward Hermione.

"That's my girlfriend you arsehole," screamed Ron, "Relashio!"

Instead of pointing the wand at the man, he aimed it above Hermione's head. Harry watched on in horror as the ceiling began to crumble from above her.

But Harry's horror was misplaced, because Hermione seemed to have read his mind. With a wave of her wand, she sent the tumbling ceiling flying away from her, toward the Death Eater where it collided with the killing curse.

Ron was already on his feet, and pulled Harry up and out of the way. They collided with Hermione as the rubble crashed upon the Death Eater, and settled to the floor in a cloud of dust around his motionless body.

Panting, the three exchanged looks.

"That was brilliant," said Harry. "Both of you."

"Let's focus, we need to end this," said Ron diplomatically, rising to pull both Hermione and Harry to their feet. His hand lingered on Hermione's.

"Girlfriend?" said Hermione tentatively, her cheeks turning crimson.

Suddenly, Harry felt the need to remind them where they were, but held his tongue. After his disastrous duel, he knew it would fall on deaf ears.

Ron's ears flooded with color, but he didn't have time to respond before the corridor began filling with people again. The mob was running away from something, maybe someone, and they knew they needed to change locations as soon as possible.

"Let's go!" shouted Harry, rushing after the crowd at a sprint. He could see Ron and Hermione following behind him in his peripheral vision, but he glanced back to be sure. They were following all right, just not at the same frantic pace as Harry — their strides were weighed down by their connected hands, fingers intertwined in a protective embrace. Yet they maintained their focus as vigilantly as before.

Harry shook his head and carried on, choosing not to worry about them at the moment. They were clear-headed, and he knew why. They had something to fight for — each other.

As he ran, he realized he did too, and it was all he needed to ignite a powerful wave of determination. He had Ginny. Hermione. Ron. A chosen family. If he could end this war, all would be well.

-After the War-

Now he could move through the Hall without interference. He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder: There would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk. He saw Neville, the sword of Gryffindor lying beside his plate as he ate, surrounded by a knot of fervent admirers. Along the aisle between the tables he walked, and he spotted the three Malfoys, huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there, but nobody was paying them any attention. Everywhere he looked, he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most.

"It's me," he muttered, crouching down between them. "Will you come with me?"

They stood up at once, and together he, Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as they climbed.

Ron and Hermione looked somewhat suspicious of Harry as they skipped down the stairs, and it was only then that Harry realized he was grinning like an idiot. Now that the weight of filling them in on the missing puzzle pieces was over, he was craving an update.

"What, Harry?" asked Hermione, her tone irritated but amused.

"You two," he said, suddenly aware that now was not the best time to be commenting on a positive development. "Nevermind."

They exchanged a look, and underneath their grief-stricken faces, Harry could see a flash of something else. Excitement, maybe. Hopefully. They deserved it.

"Sorry if we made you feel awkward," said Ron. His ears were growing red.

"Made me feel awkward?"

"In the Room of Requirement," clarified Hermione.

"Oh," smiled Harry. "You didn't. I'm really happy for you two."

"Erm— thank you," said Ron. He glanced awkwardly at Hermione, and slipped his hand into hers. Her cheeks turned rosy and she looked away shyly.

"So…," said Harry, motioning to the space between Ron and Hermione. "This is finally a thing? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?"

Ron and Hermione shifted nervously in place, but Ron maintained his grip on her hand.

"You haven't talked about it yet, have you?" asked Harry.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, a lot has happened since we… kissed," the smile he sent toward Hermione was suggestive enough that Harry suddenly felt like he was intruding on a private moment.

"Why don't I leave you alone?" said Harry, reaching for his invisibility cloak.

"No, it's okay Harry—" started Hermione.

"Really," he interrupted. "I need some alone time myself."

Ron sent him a grateful smile as he threw the invisibility cloak over his head, disappearing from view. As he turned away from his friends, and Ron drew Hemione into a hug, he couldn't help but smile. After what they put on hold for the past year, they deserved to finally be happy together.

x

Satisfied by a few hours of peaceful solitude — thanks to his invisibility cloak, Harry eventually returned to the Gryffindor common room. He was surprised to find it mostly empty, save for Ron, who was sitting on an armchair by the fireplace. The blazing fire reminded Harry of their many late anxiety-filled nights spent completing last-minute homework assignments or studying for tests. It was surreal to imagine that there had been a time when something as trivial as exams had caused them stress.

Ron's expression was obscured by the dancing firelight, but from what Harry could tell, he looked to be at peace, maybe even sleeping. Harry wondered why he was sleeping in the common room, and where Hermione had gone. It concerned him that they weren't together — surely they needed each other now more than ever.

Harry glanced around the room to be sure it was empty before tugging off his invisibility cloak. "Hey mate," he whispered, checking if Ron was truly asleep. Ron sat up a little straighter in his chair, signaling he was not, so Harry continued, "Where's Hermione?"

When Harry approached, he realized with a jolt in his stomach that Ron had been crying. Avoiding his gaze, he wiped the moisture from his cheeks when he croaked his reply. "She's asleep. She's staying the night in our room, I hope that's okay."

Harry took a seat in the chair across from Ron. "Only if you use a muffliato charm." It was a risky response given Ron's emotional state, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Ron smiled.

But his smile quickly faded, accentuating his bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Harry's heart sank at his grief, and he imagined Fred's cold, lifeless face, frozen in a smile that none of the living Weasley's would be able to replicate for quite some time.

"You were crying."

Ron looked away and wiped his cheek with his sleeve. "Sorry."

His apology punctuated Harry's already-awkward feeling about announcing the obvious. Harry had seen Ron cry before, and vice versa. He'd seen it many times this past year, but there was always pressure to stop the emotional display in the presence of others, even Ron, his best friend since year one. His brother.

"Don't apologize," Harry offered.

Ron shrugged, and his face looked strained from holding back tears, but he managed to do so successfully. Harry found himself wishing he could cry, even if only as permission for Ron to do so too, but his body felt dry and empty.

A few hours ago, he was grateful for his ability to hide emotion. He held back tears for his dead friends. He didn't give into the desire to relieve Hagrid's grief as he carried his limp body back to the castle. He resisted screaming under the Cruciatus Curse. Not once did he cry.

But now he couldn't with Ron, and instead of making him feel stronger, he just felt less human.

It wasn't fair. Voldemort was the one that was less human, and there was a part of Harry angered by the fact that stooping to his level — cutting off his emotion — is what helped to defeat him. That same part of Harry worried that Voldemort took some of Harry's humanity with him when he died and permanently hardened him.

Luckily, beyond his numbness and anger, Harry felt it. The sweeping pain in his heart from looking at Ron now — a teary, exhausted, and ragged Ron — reassured him of one thing: at this moment, he might not be able to cry, but he could do so much more. He was still very much human, still capable of doing what Voldemort could not. Harry could love. Dumbledore was right all along.

Ron stood up abruptly, pulling Harry from his brooding. "We should get some sleep," he announced, motioning toward the stairwell.

Nodding, Harry rose to his feet and made to follow him, but he paused in his tracks.

Ron turned to face him. "You ok?"

"I have you tell you something." Harry could see the emotion break on Ron's face; it was only for a second, but Harry was grateful for it.

Then, when Harry approached him and laid a brotherly hand on his shoulder, Ron blinked, and his eyes watered. "No, you don't," said Ron.

When Ron made no effort to avert his gaze from Harry's and hide his tear-filled eyes, Harry knew Ron was right: he didn't have to say anything at all. So he didn't. Instead, he tugged on Ron's shoulder, and pulled him into an embrace. Thankfully, Ron returned it without hesitation.

"You already know?" asked Harry.

Harry felt Ron's nod, and the vibration of his chuckle, but it was the growing moisture on the back of his shoulder — the 'fuck it' to holding back tears that confirmed his response, "Yeah. I know."

The moment was brief, but it was everything. When they broke apart, there was no awkwardness at all, just gratitude.

Agreeing silently that they really needed sleep, they made their way back upstairs to the dorm they'd shared since their first year, the place where they'd grown from strangers, to friends, to brothers.

"But seriously," said Harry, stopping them before they opened the door to find Hermione already asleep, presumably in Ron's bed. "Muffliato."

Ron laughed. "I don't think it'll be necessary tonight, mate," he said, but the deepening color of his ears suggested that he wished otherwise.

"Well, when it is necessary," continued Harry as he creaked the door open, "I really don't want to know."

Ron grinned as he followed Harry into the dorm, and the mischievous expression on his face was just a reminder there wasn't much point in requesting secrecy, not after all these years.

Chapter Text

Nineteen Years Later

The soft autumn sun smiled down on the Burrow's grounds, its reflection illuminating the windows like a lighthouse. A crisp breeze whistled through the garden, bringing with it a hint of cooler days to come. Inside, the smell of dinner sizzling on the stove, butterbeer bottles clinking, children playing, and adults laughing filled the room, but it was still too quiet for Harry's liking.

Harry always loved September. Growing up, September marked the transition from 4 Privet Drive to Hogwarts, and it came with a sweeping feeling of relief knowing he'd finally be able to see his friends again. Every year, his anticipation for September would grow stronger and start sooner, until summer eventually became something to endure rather than enjoy.

His love of autumn — and by extension, his distaste for summer — persisted into adulthood, even when life moved on after the war. Although there were no more shopping trips to Diagon Alley, journeys on the Hogwarts Express, or sorting hat ceremonies reinforcing Harry's eagerness for the fall, his feelings remained. Harry would wake up on September 1st giddy and eager, like a child on Christmas Eve, and then proceed to make breakfast for the kids and floo to the Ministry for an Auror meeting, just like any other day. There was no longer anything particularly exciting about September, but he kept a tight grip on his memories of the scarlet steam engine, trolley snacks, and welcome feasts.

That all changed two years ago when James began his first year at Hogwarts. That year, September 1st brought a change that he wasn't ready for — watching his son board the Hogwarts Express. James' eyes sparkled with excitement, but Harry shared none of the enthusiasm. Instead, Harry's stomach felt heavy with dread as he watched the train roll away, smiling and waving at James' anxious face in the window while holding back tears and desperately wishing it was still August.

The following year wasn't any easier, and today was even worse. When Albus joined James on the train, it took all of Harry's effort to reassure him that everything would be okay because, for Harry, it probably wouldn't. It was funny how Harry could defeat Voldemort at seventeen, but he was still convinced that saying goodbye to his kids on platform nine and three-quarters was the most difficult thing he'd ever do.

Harry was half-listening to the hustle and bustle of the Burrow and trying not to get too comfy in the extra spaciousness in the living room, made possible only by the absence of the older children when he spotted a flash of red outside in the garden. Ron was sitting alone on a bench, cradling a butterbeer, his hair a stark contrast to the muted green of the overgrown lawn.

Without a second thought, Harry moved toward the Burrow's exit, following the narrow stone pathway that curved into the garden. It didn't cross his mind whether or not Ron wanted to be alone, and even if he did, there was an unspoken agreement between them that 'alone' didn't exclude being with each other.

Ron smiled ruefully when he spotted Harry approaching, but it only lasted a second before his shoulders slumped and his smile vanished. "Hey, mate."

"Hey," said Harry, plopping down beside Ron on the bench. Ron shifted sideways to make room for him. "You okay?"

"Dunno," said Ron, before bringing his butterbeer to his lips and taking in a long gulp.

"Thinking about Rosie?" asked Harry.

Ron nodded and coughed, clearing his throat from his oversized sip. "Bloody hate that she's gone."

"I know the feeling," said Harry. "Was even worse this year with Al going too."

"I bet. Sorry, mate."

A few comfortable moments of silence passed, as both men knew perfectly well that there was nothing to say to make the other feel better.

Ron gulped down the rest of his butterbeer before speaking again. "I just hope she's okay."

Harry smiled, remembering how he said that about James his first year. When James turned out fine, better than fine, Harry had to admit his concern was for his own loneliness rather than James' safety. "She's probably fine, but you know that," he says, earning a moment of confused eye contact from Ron. "It's us you should worry about."

"We almost died at Hogwarts. So many times," said Ron, a wistful smile forming on his lips.

"And thanks to us," said Harry, "they have it better than we did. Either way, she's a tough girl. Smart. You raised a good one."

"Thank Merlin she takes after her mum."

Harry laughed. Hermione always said that Rose took after Ron, not her. Harry thought it was both. They probably saw the best traits in their daughter and assumed they were from the other parent. "Rosie takes after you a lot more than you think."

"That's what Hermione says. But thanks, now I'm even more worried," laughed Ron. "Think Rosie and Albus'll be in Gryffindor together?"

"No doubt about Rosie," said Harry, as the memory of Rosie's first time on a broomstick resurfaced. Rosie's face was scarlet-red with excitement as she took a nosedive toward the ground, followed by a frenzied and panicked Ron. The cushioning charm he just barely cast in time turned out to be unnecessary, as she swerved at the last second to avoid a collision, but Harry was pretty sure Ron's blood pressure had never returned to a normal level.

"Yeah, stupid question," laughed Ron. He smiled, and Harry wondered if he was recalling the same memory or one of the many other times Rosie demonstrated Gryffindor courage, even if it meant disregarding her own safety. "What about Albus?"

"Honestly, no clue. I could see him being in Gryffindor or Slytherin," he said, noticing Ron wince at 'Slytherin.' Ron's reaction filled Harry with a parental defensiveness he wasn't expecting, and he added pointedly, "I'll be proud of him either way."

Ron nodded in agreement, maybe a bit too eagerly, but it momentarily settled the passing fear that Albus would be sorted into a different house than his siblings and cousins. It wasn't that Harry didn't want him to be in Slytherin, he just didn't want him to be alone.

But maybe Albus wanted to be in a different house than his family, and Harry was just projecting.

"I wonder who they're sitting with on the train," said Ron as if reading Harry's mind. Then he flashed his lopsided grin, still goofy and youthful even at the ripe age of thirty-seven. "You know those unfortunate souls will have to be their friends for the rest of time."

Unfortunate souls. Harry smiled at the insinuation that becoming Ron's best friend was determined as soon as they found that empty compartment together on the Hogwarts Express. Maybe Neville was meant to lose his toad, and Hermione's subsequent intrusion was no accident. As far as Harry was concerned, prophecies had only caused him trouble, but maybe he owed destiny a token of gratitude, too. "Whatever souls they're sitting next to are extremely lucky."

"The luckiest," added Ron with a nostalgic smile.

It was unclear if Ron was still referring to the kids at this point, but it didn't matter. It was all the same to Harry. They were the luckiest.