Priori Incantatem - 2

Continued from here. Follow the label Priori Incantatem to read this story.

Part 1: Full Moon Nights (contd.)

Petunia

Petunia walked into the garden, where Lily sat gazing at the full moon, clearly lost in thought.

“Lil, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Those Dursleys aren’t even acting like their usual selves today, they’re in our bedroom jumping on the beds. They’re out of control. They’re making a mess. I hate mess,” Petunia finished in a screech.

Lily looked up, jerked out of her reverie. “I’m just coming, Tuney.”

Petunia looked at her. Then she sat down on the stone beside her. “I know what you’re thinking, Lily. I know you’re thinking about what that boy said to you. Listen to me, forget what he said. It’s not true.”

Lily gazed at Petunia through her bright green eyes. “How do you know, Tuney? How could you know?”

“Because,” started Petunia, but Lily interrupted her.

“What if I am a witch? What if it’s magic, all the stuff I can do? It makes sense.” Her voice rose excitedly, and her eyes glowed.

“No, it doesn’t. I’m sorry, it doesn’t make any sense.” Lily started to look indignant, but Petunia went on, “There is no such thing as magic. Surely you don’t believe all these fairy-tales now? They’re for little children,” she finished scornfully.

Lily was looking indignant now, but she spoke in little more than a whisper. “How do you explain it, then? All the things I can do?”

Petunia opened her mouth, then closed it.

“It does make sense,” Lily went on, “That’s why no one else can do it, even you. I’ve seen you try. It does make sense.”

Petunia was beginning to feel angry. Her room would probably be totally wrecked by now, and Lily was being so difficult.

“You listen to me. That Snape boy…is weird. Didn’t you see the kind of clothes he wore? They say he doesn’t even go to school. And his parents…I’ve heard…” Petunia hesitated.

“What about them?” asked Lily, suddenly looking interested.

Petunia felt a twinge of annoyance. “They argue and fight all the time. Even in public. I’ve heard people say it. And I’m sure it’s true,” she added confidently, seeing Lily open her mouth to say something.

A shriek of mirth was heard from upstairs, followed by a crash. Petunia said quickly, with a note of finality in her voice, “He’s lying, Lily. Just forget what he said.” And she ran upstairs to investigate the source of the noise, but not before she’d seen the unconvinced look on Lily’s face. She knew Lily wouldn’t forget so easily. And a small voice in her head told her that it did make sense.

***

Lily

Lily stared after her sister’s retreating back. She didn’t believe what Petunia had said, though she had to agree that that Snape boy was weird. But…well…just because he didn’t dress well or his parents didn’t get along wasn’t really a reason not to believe him, was it?

Besides, what he had said had made her think. All these years, Lily had never wondered about her ‘abnormality’. Loved by parents and friends alike, she had believed she was ‘special’ and these were simply accidents, or, in the case of the swings, some special talent that would perhaps someday make her famous.

But today, for the first time, she began to wonder. They couldn’t all have been coincidences. Especially because no one else could do them. She had often observed Tuney stretching out her arm as far as it would go, and while this would seem strange to the casual observer, Lily knew she was desperately focusing her attention on some object, willing it to zoom into her hand. A boy at school had seen her fly off the swing and, not believing a girl could do something he couldn’t, tried it as well. He had lain in hospital for weeks afterwards, and from then on Lily had been forbidden to ‘fly’.

“YOU BROKE THE MERMAID?” she distinctly heard Petunia shriek.

“Oh no,” she thought, and ran upstairs.

The Dursley boy, it transpired, had picked up Ariel, Petunia’s beloved glass mermaid, from a shelf because he thought she was “real pretty” and wanted to examine her closely. His sister wanted to see it too but he wouldn’t let her, and in the scuffle that followed, poor Ariel had her limbs and head smashed to smithereens.

The Dursleys stood stock still and, indeed, managed to look rather scared as Petunia berated them. Then they apologized profusely and said they hadn’t meant it, which did nothing to improve Petunia’s temper, and trooped down for dinner.

Later that night, after the guests had left, Lily sat on her bed, thinking. Petunia was mopping up the floor and occasionally muttering about ‘messy’ and ‘badly-brought-up’ children. Normally Lily would have laughed at her for being so obsessed with cleanliness, but not tonight.

She was making up her mind. She was determined to know more about what that Snape boy had said, and she planned to ask him. “Tuney’s going to spend the day with Leslie tomorrow. The coast will be clear,” she thought. She glanced at her sister, and felt a little pang of guilt. She had never hidden anything from her before. But she knew Tuney wouldn’t approve of what she was going to do. She just didn’t understand.

Nevertheless, there was a slight tremor in her voice as she said “Goodnight, Tuney,” and quickly hid her face in her bedclothes lest it betray her.

***

Priori Incantatem - 1

Part 1: Full Moon Nights

End July, 1970

Lily

Lily yawned deeply and stretched. It was nearly a month into the summer holidays, and they were turning out as boring as ever. She glanced over at her still-sleeping sister, and then silently put out her left hand in the direction of the dresser. As always, the hairbrush flew into it. She was always doing things of this sort, things other people couldn’t do. Her friends at school were quite awed by her. They didn’t think she was creepy, as she had initially feared they would. And children believe in magic, in things they can't quite explain.Or maybe it was just because she was so likeable.

She tried to rub the sleep out of her bright green eyes, and started brushing her thick red hair. When she had finished, she turned and saw that Petunia’s eyes were wide open. Had she been watching all this while? Lily didn’t want to admit it, but the thought made her slightly uncomfortable. Petunia smiled and said quickly, “Good morning, Lil.” Too quickly.

“Morning, Tuney," Lily smiled back. "We’ve overslept; it must be nearly time for breakfast.”

“I suppose. Dunno. Mum would’ve called us.” And she rolled over.

Lily smiled, and getting out of bed, walked across the room and shook her lazy sister.

“Come on Tuney, get up, if we hurry we can get our errands done quickly and watch The Sound of Music!”

“Mum won’t let us, not today,” said Petunia crossly, trying to snuggle back under the covers, “it’s the dinner, remember?”

“Well, we can go to the park and play for a while then. I’m sure she’ll let us do that, but only if we finish our chores…,” said Lily thoughtfully.

“Okay, five minutes,” mumbled Petunia. She giggled as Lily tickled her. “Okay, okay, I’m getting up.”

“Girls, hurry up, we have lots to do before tonight’s party,” their mother called, and entered the room.

Lily and Petunia groaned. “What?” said Mrs. Evans, looking from one to the other.

“Mummy, why do the Dursleys have to come? The whole family at that, when it’s just a business dinner?” asked Lily.

“The Browns and Newtons are going to be there too,” their mother reminded her, bending to pick up the bedclothes.

“But they don’t have any children! I mean, well, the Newtons do, but Rudolph always pretends to be dignified, and when he’s not nodding away to the men’s talk, he’s telling me and Tuney that Cinderella never existed,” cried Lily indignantly. “So that means we’re going to be stuck with those two...all evening.”

Lily ended in a wail. Their mother paid no attention and continued tidying up.

“Yes, that Vernon is such a foul-tempered kid! He’s…uh, fat. And annoying. He follows us around all over the place,” cried Petunia.

“Like a dog,” added Lily.

“And his sister is no better. She doesn’t follow us, though her dogs do. Stray dogs, at that. I hate dogs, they make everything messy.” Cleanliness-obsessed Petunia.

“And she just sits in a corner chewing her nails and picking her nose,” shuddered Lily.

“And she has a moustache” added Petunia.

“Quiet, both of you,” said Mrs. Evans, though her mouth twitched. “Petunia, you shouldn’t talk like this about them. Be an example to your sister. And, girls, it's just one evening. Now tidy up your room and come downstairs.”

The girls sighed. Petunia pointed her palm at her comb just like Lily had, with a look of longing on her face. Nothing happened.

***

Emily

“Mummy, we’ve been working like crazy. Can we have a break?” asked Lily, after about two hours of dusting the drawing room and cleaning the verandah.

“Sure,” said Emily Evans absently, while inspecting the work done by the girls to see if anything was wanting.

“Tuney”, Lily called, “Tuney, let's go to the playground, there won't be many people around! Mummy says we can!”

Mrs. Evans looked up, suddenly alert. “I never said that.”

“Mummy, please. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

Emily looked at her, and sighed. “All right then. Just be careful, okay? No more flying off swings.”

But Lily had already skipped outside.

***

Severus

Severus was hiding behind his usual clump of bushes. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and the ground was warm. A single, huge chimney dominated the distant skyline. He watched as two girls entered the playground and ran to the swings. Maybe this time he would finally talk to her, he thought.

He was skinny, no more than ten years of age; odd, sallow, small, stringy. His black hair was overlong and his clothes were so mismatched that it looked deliberate: too-short jeans, a shabby, over-large coat that might have belonged to a grown man, an odd smock-like shirt. There was an air of neglect about his being.

The girls swung backwards and forwards. He watched the younger of the two with an inexplicable greed, as she swung higher and higher than her sister, singing loudly “Doe, a deer, a female deer…ray, a drop of golden sun…”

Involuntarily, he pulled at his coat so that it covered his shirt completely.

“Lily, don’t do it!” shrieked the elder of the two.

But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skywards with a great snort of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared, like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.

“Mummy told you not to!”

Petunia stopped her swing by dragging the heels of her sandals on the ground, making a crunching, grinding sound, then leaped up, hands on hips.

“Mummy said you weren’t allowed, Lily!”

“But I’m fine,” said Lily, still giggling. “Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do.”

Petunia glanced around. The playground was deserted apart from themselves and, though the girls did not know it, Severus. Lily picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which he lurked. He almost revealed himself then, but held back. “Not yet,” he thought. He kept watching.

Petunia advanced towards Lily, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.

“Stop it!” shrieked Petunia.

“It’s not hurting you,” said Lily, but she closed her hand on the blossom and threw it back to the ground.

“It’s not right,” said Petunia, but her eyes had followed the flower’s flight to the ground and lingered upon it. “How do you do it?” she added, and there was definite longing in her voice.

Severus could no longer contain himself, and jumped out from behind the bushes.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Petunia shrieked and ran backwards towards the swings, but Lily, though clearly startled, remained where she was. Suddenly, Severus regretted his act. He should have waited. He felt a dull flush mount in his face as he looked at Lily.

“What’s obvious?” she asked.

There was nothing else for it. Severus felt nervous and excited. This was it. With a glance at the distant Petunia, now hovering beside the swings, he lowered his voice and said, “I know what you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re…you’re a witch,” whispered Severus.

She looked affronted.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody!”

She turned, nose in the air, and marched off towards her sister.

“No!” said Severus, desperately, feeling hot and uncomfortable. He ran after the girls, his ridiculous coat flapping out behind him.

The sisters considered him, united in disapproval, both holding on to one of the swing poles as though it was the safe place in tag.

“You are,” said Severus to Lily. “You are a witch. I’ve been watching you for a while. But there’s nothing wrong with that. My mum’s one, and I’m a wizard.”

Petunia’s laugh was like cold water.

“Wizard!” she shrieked, her courage returned now that she had recovered from the shock of his unexpected appearance. “I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address a poor recommendation. “Why have you been spying on us?”

“Haven’t been spying,” said Severus, feeling more uncomfortable than ever. He tried a different tack. “Wouldn’t spy on you anyway,” he said spitefully, “you’re a Muggle.”

Though Petunia evidently did not understand the word, she could hardly mistake the tone.

“Lily, come on, we’re leaving!” she said shrilly.

Lily obeyed her sister at once, glaring at Severus as she left. He stood watching them as they marched through the playground gate, sad and bitterly disappointed. After planning this moment for so long, how could it have gone so nightmarishly wrong?

***

Note: Parts of the story have been incorporated from the original story by JKR (Snape's memories), with a few minor changes.

Picture Credit: I had put this picture a few months ago, carelessly without credits, and now I can't seem to find it again. I'd be most grateful if someone could point me to it. No copyright infringement intended, sorry!

Follow the label Priori Incantatem to read this story.

HPNS- Chapter 16

FIRE AND WATER

Read Chapter 15 here or start at the beginning

The Elfish Wine had quite an effect on Hermione’s brain and she felt warm and silly as she walked arm in arm with Michael. The Hogsmeade streets were quite empty and Hermione didn’t care that the frequency of cloaked figures was increasing. It didn’t matter that Josh, Ginny and Harry had left early. It was now that the ends of her nerves had loosened and she felt incredibly safe in Michael’s arms. He lit a pipe and warm smoke wafted out in spirals that Hermione gazed at lazily. The smell of smoked wood descended onto his crisp white shirt and cravat, and she took full breaths of the intoxicant.

“I had a charming time this evening with you Hermione” Michael said, calmly brushing stray brown hairs away from her face. She mumbled back contently.

They walked a fair distance down the village discussing more of their careers and lives. A strong cold breeze fluttered the roof tops of the houses and simultaneously something stirred within Hermione.

“Michael, I should be getting home. It’s not safe outside anymore and it’s getting quite late”, she said firmly.

He held her closer and said with a note of finality in his voice “We’ll walk back together”

Hermione blushed and lightly protested saying that she could manage to make it to her apartment alone. But Michael held her hand and they walked towards her home slowly.

The silence grew prolonged and was quite a give-away, until Hermione said, “Will you tell me what spell you used to remove the wine stains I spilled on your shirt this evening? It seems a useful spell”

“Later- later, not just now, Hermione” Michael murmured in her ear, and fondled the nearest ear lobe. It echoed inside her brain, where all instinct and guard was being suppressed for this wonderful oblivion she was experiencing. The walk home didn’t feel tiresome at all, as the couple floated up to the driveway of King’s Abbot where Hermione lived.

She felt as though she heard a rustling behind the dandelion hedge but ignored it. She looked up at him sweetly as he stood at the doorway, her front door was ajar.

“Would you like to come in for some coffee?” she asked him a little nervously as she hadn’t cleaned up that day according to her usual standards.

“I’m fine thank you. In fact I have to go for work early tomorrow. I’ll be taking leave of you then Hermione” Michael replied pleasantly, blowing out more smoke. She stared at him wistfully, wondering if this was going too fast or too slow. Michael was slowly walking away, his posture perfect and spine upright. A small low sigh escaped Hermione’s lips before she shut the door on a memorable evening. But there was more.

He turned around and walked up the stairs once more. He took her trembling hands in his and asked “Would you like to accompany me to the Annual Auror’s Fund Raiser Ball next week? I’m not too fond of dancing, but now it seems a foolish waste not to be asking such a beautiful companion for another evening together”

Hermione blinked at him for a moment.

He was asking her out himself - and to the Auror’s Ball - which she herself had wanted to attend so badly - but she had been waiting for an invitation - from Ron.

“I-I of course I will Michael” she replied finally, breaking into a smile. As expected, Michael smiled back appreciatively.

What she didn’t expect was him closing into her and sweeping her into a kiss.

She felt herself shrink back a little while he kissed her with immense decorum. His lips tasted a little burnt and bitter from the tobacco and the taste slipped down Hermione’s throat. She felt his fingers move on her waist and they had sliced the steak at dinner. One hand entwined itself in her presently tidy hair. Hermione’s brain cleared out and she suddenly became aware of all that was happening. Her eyes flew open to find Michael’s shut tight before her, in passion. A small wetness was beginning to spread between their connection. She knew this was not right; she was disappointed and beginning to hate it. This was different from her first kiss with Viktor. This was more virile but strangely empty. This was not right…

But there was some power that held her back from pushing away. The first time is never perfect. Michael had been wonderful for all this time; she had enjoyed their brief interaction. In fact a moment ago, she was very certainly infatuated by him. She could give him another chance- she could give them another chance. She’d ensure that he wasn’t smoking the next time. Perhaps her social life was so outdated because of her career and the war that she had forgotten that a goodnight kiss was quite harmless on a first date.

Hermione had long lost her breath and couldn’t retrieve it. She felt as hard and cold as an idol. Her body stiffened instead of giving away or melting into Michael’s as it should. She began to count house-elves in her head…

What would Ron say if he saw her kissing like this?

Would he feel the same hate she had felt when she had seen him with Lavender, or more recently- Esmè?

Would he never speak to her again?

Would he go back to Esmè?

Had she lost her chance with him forever? Would he ever come back to her- as a friend if nothing more or nothing less?

Hermione was soon about to get all the answers of her questions, in one moment.

The dandelion hedge tore apart to reveal a dark, furious and lanky figure plunging forwards towards Michael’s back. Hermione tried to protest between the kiss, to warn Michael of the impending danger that was approaching, but he only kissed her back more fiercely… not willing to let go.

“OI YOU BASTARD!! GEROFF HER!”

The knotted couple broke apart finally when a resounding blow was delivered behind Michael’s head, slamming his mouth and nose against the brass handle on Hermione’s door. Without any choice for cover, Hermione fell out of balance onto the door mat while Michael toppled over her and did a full somersault in the process.

“OH MY GOD!” she shrieked.

As she cleared her disheveled hair out of her eyes, her chin squashed against the dusty doorstep, she saw the fuming figure before her and recognized the unlaced hand-me-down shoes as-

Ron Weasley’s.

“YOU MISERABLE SNEAKING CENTIPEDE!” she bellowed as she untangled her body from Michael’s semi-conscious form above her.

The figure yelled back, its face and hair was ablaze and red, beginning to reflect in the dim light above the door “OH FORGIVE MY intrusion, MISS PRISSY! If it hadn’t been for me right now, you would have been…”

“SO YOU JUST STAND THERE PRETENDING TO BE ALL SIR GALAHAD RESCUING A DAMSEL FROM RAPE AND HARASSMENT I SUPPOSE!!” Hermione screamed and shook Ron by his collar very hard.

Ron spat at her face, “UNLESS OF COURSE YOU WANTED IT! YOU SICK LITTLE…”

Hermione drew back, went very rigid and cold. She was quite a frightening vision, no better than Mrs. Weasley in an uncontrollable fit of rage.

“Don’t. you. dare”

There was a moment’s interlude when Michael’s figure raised itself a little with a groan. As though he couldn’t believe it, his hands moved shuddering towards the threads of blood hanging down from his smashed jaw.

“Weedly? Wod are you doing here?” he spluttered, looking up and turning pasty white.

Hermione quickly bent down, and heaved him up to a sitting position. Then she softly tapped Michael’s bloody lip and swollen gums with the tip of her wand, murmuring a spell under her breath.

In a moment, the long skeins of scarlet down Michael’s chin; the splashes of wine red blood on his collar and the salty taste in his mouth vanished completely.

And then he ominously lifted his wand towards Ron, over Hermione’s shoulder and sent a curse towards him with an expert flick, while his target projectiled to a distance of a mile.

“CONFRINGO!”

Ron got up quickly after his head hit the muggle street lamp and stood panting bathed under the ghostly light, his wand held aloft.

“DENSAUGEO!” was yelled back at Michael with equal vehemence.

As before quite by accident, the spell instead of hitting right on spot, shot into Hermione’s face where she stood protectively before Michael. The scene went back to Snape’s dungeon where fourteen year old Hermione was whimpering and trying her best to shield her front teeth that began to grow at a surprising pace. For a moment, the whole party froze in action and watched Hermione scream in frustration as her wand clattered to the ground, in her attempt to cover her chin. Her front teeth had already gone ahead.

“Hermione, are you alright!?” Michael bent into her face, anxious at how she had been injured.

“MY TEEF! DO FUMFIN ABOU’ MY TEEF!”

“LEAVE IT ALONE CATRWRIGHT! YOU GET AWAY FROM HER!” Ron advanced quickly, raising his wand up to Michael’s chin level. He softly pushed Hermione’s hands away from her mouth and examined the three foot long incisors.

“It’ll be all right, Hermione. I’m sorry it hit you… I know the counter-spell…”

“GEF AWAY FROM ME! GIVE ME BACK MY WANF, YOU F-F-FREAK!” Hermione slapping away Ron, for lack of a better insult.

Terrified out of his wits at the deranged version of Hermione Granger sitting before him, he quickly retrieved the wand and put it in her palm. Michael watched anxiously as the teeth were gradually restored to their original length.

There was a flash of lightning in the air and a loud clap of thunder a moment later. Cavernous clouds flooded the sky and the moonlit night suddenly turned as dark as Hermione’s expression.

Hermione stood up before the two kneeling figures before her. Towering over them, she screamed pitifully, “I don’t care HOW… OR WHEN… you decide to settle this between yourselves, but I would request the both of you TO CLEAR OUT OF MY SIGHT RIGHT NOW!”

And then her front door slammed shut.

***

The night grew worse and louder than anybody could have imagined. Trees rustled and shivered with the combined ferocity of the wind and the cold raindrops. Streets lay empty, without even the homeless and lost cowering under tables or at jetties. Street lamps flickered and occasionally a drenched and solitary dog would trot along wagging his tail pointlessly. The entire evening’s humidity had accumulated and now thick heavy sheets of rain fell before the window pane. It was a complete contrast to the brightly crackling fire inside the room, illuminating three figures, two of identical height and the third a little shorter. They sat on comfortable sofas around an official looking table, on which was laid a large brown parcel.

“There’s no doubt about it, Harry. This is the best we could come up with”, Fred whispered excitedly.

Harry picked up the brown package and unwrapped the paper around it to find a rectangular box that was sealed with enchantments.

“Erm, let me help you with that” George said, grabbing the parcel with a mad glint in his eyes. He tapped the box with his wand twice with a moment’s interval. The lid raised itself and revealed the dark, folded contents within.

“Pure genius”, Fred whispered, looking immensely satisfied with himself.

“You have to promise me not to try and sell something similar for your profits”, Harry said quietly surveying what he held in his hands, “this is something just between us”

But the twins looked slightly uncomfortable at this proclamation. “But we thought at least the Order could use something like this. I mean, it’s the easiest way to get about and do some good quality spying and infiltration”, Fred explained.

“Absolutely not! Let me see… ah! As the Chosen One, I should be armed with some weapons that nobody else possesses, don’t you think?” Harry retorted.

But George was not convinced. “Listen mate, we’re pretty sure you’re not using these to hunt for the horcruxes. Then what exactly do you want with it?”

“Just a change of plans. I’m done busting my brains over the bloody horcruxes. This time, I need some direct access. I need some actual information, if you know what I mean. So I’m just tracing my steps back to where they started…”

And with that enigmatic declaration, Harry got up smiling at the twins’ baffled expressions, collected his parcel and walked out of the door of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes into the rainy, stormy, windy and merciless night with a new and strange feeling in his heart.

***

Hermione’s temper cooled down with the hot salty tears that flowed down her cheek, carving furrows in the slight and perfect make up she had applied for the night. There was turmoil of emotions raging inside her body and her brain was buzzing with fatigue. With her back still pressed to her front door, she sank to the floor and sobbed quite pitilessly.

“Well Ginny, I hope you’re happy now! The plan was a huge and tremendous success!” she hiccoughed vindictively at the room before her.

The room soon grew dark and veins of lightning flashed outside her window, causing her fancy china to vibrate with the resounding thunder. Automatically, she got up, floated to the windows and slammed them down, shut out the sound with a spell, and pointed her wand at the grate lighting up a merry fire. Then she returned to her position by the door and sank to the floor once more. Without any emotion, she gradually unclasped her earrings and brooch from her being. She loosened her tidy bun and let the usual bushy brown hair cascade to her shoulders. She felt all the heat trapped inside her hair escape, and a sudden coolness descended on her head. But the tears did not stop flowing.

How dare he? How could he be so presumptuous as to follow her all across town to see what she made of her date? He had no business to! Absolutely no business…

She hated him for being so wicked. She hated every fibre in his body for being so completely etched in hers. She couldn’t stand the thought of ever meeting him and talking to him straightforward. A part of her wanted to hit him across his face for being so clumsy. Her teeth had grown longer than the last time, and she was certain of how ridiculous she had looked… and that too in front of Michael. She knew he would never be able to look at her after that, she was so terribly embarrassed and shocked at the blow he had received from Ron.

Ron.

She could kill him if he came before her. She had had enough of him. He was an obnoxious, blundering idiot.

In fact, she was so absorbed in thoughts of him that she could have sworn that the unsteady breathing sounds she heard opposite the door she sat, were his.

She had heard the sound, pace and rhythm of his breath so many times that she could distinguish it even in complete pandemonium. It was heavier and slower than most other people. If one paid attention for too long, one would be lost in the calm humming sound of his breath and heart beat moving pace-to-pace. She had heard it so many times unconsciously when they had been studying in the Gryffindor common room, that was either empty during the vacations or suddenly hushed up before exams. Sitting on the same table in complete quiet, with her notes spread out, she would tune her mind’s rhythm to that of Ron’s breath and heartbeat adjacent to her seat. It had been so long ago…

Hermione suddenly sat upright. It was distinct now, heavy ragged breathing right outside her door. A little higher than where she sat, so she presumed that the human or creature was standing. She grew quite frightened despite herself, because she couldn’t imagine who or what would be outside her door on a viciously stormy night.

In case it was an assailant or a spy, she would surprise him. It was pointless to ask who it was, and put the person on guard.

Her hands pressed firmly on the door knob; her wand rose in attention and she quickly turned the door open.

SPLAT!

Lying before her, spread eagled was the tall, wet and muddy person of Ron Weasley. He looked positively aghast to be lying on his back like that on Hermione’s carpet, his red hair pasted onto his forehead from the rain, with her wand pointing right at his nose. He had been leaning against her door all this time.

“RONALD WEASLEY!?” Hermione yelled once more, not willing to believe that it really was him, “have you completely lost your mind? What on earth were you doing outside my door for three hours in this weather? You want to get KILLED?!”

Ron calmly and with great restrain pushed himself up into a sitting position, and then heaved his drowned self into a presentable figure, standing before her. He was whiter than a sheet, his eyes flashing a dull grayish blue in the firelight contrasted with the hair that dripped onto his nose and neck. He stood there speechless and quite expressionless before her, while she started at him, absolutely flabbergasted.

“It’s cold”, he said, finally in a small voice, to break the silence.

This was the last justification that Hermione had expected. Putting her hands on her hips, she stared at Ron’s sorry figure and took long deep breaths, before she said, with a great stress on each word-

“I-want-you-to-leave-my-house. NOW!”

“I-I’d like some of that coffee, you were about to make”, Ron whimpered, fumbling over his soaked shirt that pressed onto the goose-pimples on his arms and stomach. Hermione gaped at him for a longer period at this request, and then she just went over to her couch by the fire, and sat there without a word, looking away from the doorway, where he stood.

For a span of ten minutes, Ron stood exactly where he was in exactly the same state. Then boldly, he removed his shoes and wet socks, wrung the dripping water out of his shirt and pants, and walked barefoot across the carpet to her. He pushed the hair out of his face and shoved them behind his ears; he could see her better now. The fire had burned low and there just a slight orange glow in the room. But he could see the flames flashing still in Hermione’s eyes while she sat above him, her gaze averted.

“Uh… you’re teeth look better now”, Ron began a little sheepishly.

Hermione let out a loud breath but continued to look away and observe silence.

“I-I’m s-s-orry, I’m really sorry Herm. I won’t do it again. I’ll keep away from you forever if you w-want it that way”

With this solemn declaration, he softly lifted himself up to his knees and closed into her face to see if she had reacted. She looked very conscious of his presence even though her eyes were watching the fire. Her breath had quickened, and taking advantage of the signals, he softly placed his cold, damp hand onto her small warm open palm, lying carelessly on her skirt. Even at this slight touch, he could clearly feel the rapid and frenzied pulse in her soft pink palm. Very slowly she turned to face him.

“Is that a new tool for emotional blackmail, Ron Weasley?” she asked icily.

Ron looked genuinely confused, “As in…?”

“You’ve never called me that before- ‘Herm”, she explained quietly.

Ron looked positively relieved, because he knew what to say to that-

“Well, that’s the only option seeing how Grawp took “Hermy” away for himself” he said with a tentative grin.

This forced Hermione to break into the smallest smile she could manage, while still pretending to be mad at him.

“What happened to Michael?” she asked suddenly.

Ron looked highly disconcerted and stuttered, “Oh he-he-he just… left!”

“Left?”

“Yeah yeah, at first we gave each other some manly glares and then when it started to rain, he just… left” Ron continued trying to inject some confidence into his voice to make it sound believable. Hermione looked at him amusedly for a moment, and then fell back into her couch rubbing her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you killed him and dumped his body in a ditch”, she said sarcastically.

Ron pressed his hand more assuredly onto hers and said softly, his grin returning, “I wouldn’t be surprised either”

For a quarter of an hour they looked at each other in the silence with their eyes doing the talking. Most of the rain had dried off Ron’s body and now there was the dim smell of his moist, unwashed body that floated into Hermione’s knowledge. It reminded her of the smell she enjoyed most of the quenched earth after the first April showers when she was a child. It resembled the smell of freshly mowed lawns a little. While she sat contemplating the mystery of Ron’s scent, and how she never wanted it to go away, she had barely noticed that they were playing with each other’s fingers. This was the first time she had been completely alone with him for so long, unsupervised. She suddenly felt very grown-up.

“You’re still wearing the chain I gave you…” Ron whispered, observing the glint of the sapphire at her bosom.

“Oh yeah, I really really loved it” she whispered back, uncertainly. He lifted himself from his knees and crept closer to touch the necklace. Hermione didn’t have the strength or will to push him away. He rubbed the gem on the chain while his fingers occasionally caressed the exposed skin of her collar bone, visible through the V shaped blouse. A small shiver passed through her body unconsciously. She felt the same shiver run through Ron, starting from his fingertips. Suddenly coming to her sense, she slapped his hand away playfully. And then posed a more serious question-

“Ron, why can’t things be alright? Why can’t they… well… work out?”

Ron looked dreamily at her. The guilt had vanished completely from his face. He grabbed her fingers once more and pressed his lips to them.

“I really don’t know, Herm. Everything seems alright in my dreams. But when I wake up, I’m forced back to this place. To where we both are right now… whenever I wake up…”

HPNS- Chapter 15

THE BATTLE OF WITS

Read Chapter 14 here or start at the beginning

Hermione couldn’t hide her smile, or the two bright spots that had appeared on her cheek. She didn’t have to turn around to look at Ron’s face; she knew exactly what it looked like right now. Michael drew her chair and took her coat, smiling in the most gentlemanly fashion. He bent to get her comfortable in her seat and she smelt the ‘Michael’ scent for the first time… it felt good, in fact much better than good. The party was arranged thus- Ginny and Hermione on one side with their respective dates facing each other. It had been her special request to Ginny for such a pattern as she wasn’t quite alright with being right next to her ‘blind date’ as yet.

As the foursome sat down to dinner Ginny began a polite conversation on the topic of the war and how it was costing the Ministry’s Treasury. The war always made a great topic in such situations. Although she nodded and spoke the right things at the right time, her eyes were glancing sneakily at the figure opposite her whenever they could… every little angle of his face, every little thing he did.

Tall, but definitely not taller than Ron, shoulders were slightly broader and thickset and posture erect. Michael had thick, wavy dark hair neatly arranged around his face. His eyes were grey and the most classic feature of his face was an aquiline nose that suited him quite well. Not at all like Ron’s unnaturally long nose and ridiculous ears that turned red as though they had a mind of their own… not at all like Ron…

Ginny made a low guttural sound to distract Hermione from her reverie. It worked.

“Ginny told me that you went to Hogwarts as well. It’s just I don’t remember ever having seen you…” she resumed the pleasantries.

Michael took a sip of wine before helping her on “I belonged to Ravenclaw and I believe I’ve seen you before when you were being sorted. I faintly heard about you a couple of times mostly in relation to Harry Potter. Lately of course, I admired your article in the prophet as regards The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare”

Hermione blushed and her ears stood up appreciatively. He knew what SPEW stood for and that was a great compliment. Even Percy, or Fred and George weren’t quite sure of it, not to mention her own parents.

“Would you like some more wine, Michael?” she asked attentively, marveling at how well she was doing for a date.

As she leaned over to pour the Elfish wine, Michael suddenly asked, “Weren’t you and Harry Potter involved with each other at Hogwarts?”

Neither men could have predicted the reaction of their dates. Ginny’s fork dropped with a loud, rude clatter and Hermione jumped on her seat spilling most of the wine on Michael’s crisply starched white shirt and beige trousers.

“I’m so sorry Michael that was very clumsy of me” Hermione apologized profusely and looked crestfallen for having ruined the spotless image of her date.

“It’s not a problem at all” he replied, his eyes filling with forgiving, good-natured warmth.

He siphoned off the liquid and stains with his wand, leaving his shirt as clean and white as before. Hermione made it a mental point to ask him the spell for removing wine stains, as she had not been quite as successful on the birthday robes Esmè had given her.

“Well you know very little about me, mostly from gossip I’d imagine. Harry and I are just close friends” she didn’t want to get into intricate details about her long association with Harry, not in these times.

The conversation continued as smooth as the butter that flowed on Sangria’s signature steak that was brought in for them.

Michael’s manicured fingers moved flawlessly while slicing the steak and Hermione admired the deftness of those fine hard hands in back and forth motion over the piece of flesh. He looked above his food and smiled at her every so often, and she was happy that she could give him a good time, that she was able to attract a man as much as he attracted her.

This was what she had wanted for a long time. To be compatible and understood, not revered like Viktor used to and certainly not taken for granted like Ron. Hermione’s feeling heightened when Michael went on about SPEW with her as though he were an equal partner on the campaign with genuine feeling of support and passion.

Hermione didn’t care that Josh and Ginny looked bored at the proceedings and had begun to tickle each other under the table.

Despite himself Harry couldn’t help staring over at the table where the foursome sat. He thought Ginny looked alarmingly beautiful. And that guy opposite her had to be the man she was seeing… John Barter or Puddington, something like that.

Harry’s fingers caressed his wand longingly holding back the suitable hexes rising in his mind that would be great on this guy. He hated the fact that Ginny had dressed up to look this good before him, he hated them being together and having fun, he shuddered at the sight of their hands joined at the table. But resigned to his fate all that Harry could do was prod forcefully at his dinner with his fork pretending it was Josh’s head.

However he knew that he was taking it a lot better than Ron who sat opposite him. Ron’s fists were blotched red after he had been flexing them angrily under the table, and his expensive dinner lay completely forgotten

“Just look at the bloke he looks like his mother dressed him up! And I can smell his cologne all the way over here, it’s making me SICK!” Ron whispered furiously at Harry as though he felt the same way.

Harry stared at Ron who had completely forgotten his previous mention about being Secret Keeper. Not that Harry hadn’t thought about it before, but he had made up his mind not to put him thorough the burden. He owed so much to the Weasley’s and killing Ron would never help solve anything. Ginny didn’t deserve to lose another brother and neither did Hermione, who would have to split her loyalties between him and Ron. He could never ask that of her. Harry refused to single-handedly drag all the people he loved into the same cesspool of destruction that he was destined for. He loved them more than he hated Voldemort.

Harry was not looking at their table or at Ron. Neither was he looking the least bit disturbed as Ron. Harry’s eyes were staring far off in the distance at something undefined… he looked broken… consumed in thoughts that Ginny didn’t want to imagine. All the way from her chair she could see the smoldering look in his eyes, and then she felt very foolish.

She had thought Harry would be jealous. But he was far from it.

And upon realizing this she fully appreciated what Harry was going through and how much she was putting him through, that the mission was serious, consuming and dangerous. That he wasn’t just doing it to avenge his parents but to protect them. She understood how much the whole wizarding world was expecting of him… he was the Chosen One.

But she loved him despite all this.

The same pain shot up inside her and Ginny had to struggle for a moment to fight back hot, aggressive tears. How could she expect something as normal and mundane as jealousy from Harry who respected and trusted her so much?

Memories came flooding into her brain… Tom Riddle… Sirius vanishing into the veil… Dumbledore’s body lying on the grass… Charlie… and Harry had seen so much more… gone through so much more, and here she was on a date with Josh in the same restaurant where Harry sat, with the hope of making him jealous.

If Harry died fighting Voldemort… it would be her fault for making his life so complicated and miserable…

“Ginny?” she heard Hermione ask.

She regained her composure and the moisture in her eyes was blinked away. Harry was actually looking over at her now and then she realized that she had been staring in his direction for all that time.

“That’s Ron over there! At that table! Look Hermione, isn’t that H-Harry and Ron?” she asked according to the plan.

Hermione looked adequately surprised, excused herself, got up and went over to the table where Harry and Ron sat, taking them by shock… according to the plan.

Moments later they were shamelessly seated at the same table as Josh-Ginny-Hermione and Michael.

Ginny consciously looked away from Harry but introduced them thus, “Josh, you’ve already met Ron and this is Harry Potter. Michael, this is my brother Ron who’s in the Auror department with Josh… and erm, this is Harry”

Michael and Hermione beamed at Harry as though he were an angel. Ron did not return Michael’s offer for a handshake. Josh looked severely uncomfortable, reminded of the confrontation between him and Ginny’s ‘elder brother’ in the cubicle before.

“Very pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Potter. I’ve only watched you defeating Rawenclaw several times before at Hogwarts matches, and of course the incomparable performance at the Triwizard Tournament. Quite an unforgettable experience for the people who watched!” Michael said enthusiastically.

Harry looked taken aback, but smiled weakly. “Erm thanks. Unless I’m mistaken, you were the Rawenclaw prefect in my first year. I’ve seen Percy Weasley speaking with you”

It was Ginny’s turn to be surprised, “Were you really? Percy never mentioned that he knew you!”

“He would probably avoid mentioning me if he could help it, Ginevra. You see, he took my girlfriend Penelope Clearwater from me in our sixth year” Michael declared with a laugh.

Hermione and Ginny let out exclamations and then laughed, not knowing whether to believe this declaration.

“So Ronald, you’re in Josh’s department” Michael addressed Ron jovially, “I always imagined that Aurorship would be a rather adventurous career and I wouldn’t be up to it, I’ve always been for a more stable occupation”

Ron looked at him acerbically as Ginny sniggered and mouthed “Ronald” in a rather exaggerated undertone.

“Well you made the right choice mate” Ron retorted, “A job like mine would have completely ruined your suit and your mommy wouldn’t have liked that now, would she?”

There was a pause as everyone stared at him, but Ron didn’t care. Hermione’s face had turned an angry shade of red and Ginny and Harry were looking at him incredulously… Josh continued to observe his refection on the back of the spoon.

Michael’s grey eyes flashed ominously. There was a secret desire in Hermione that he would just stand up and throw a punch at Ron’s puffed face.

“Yes, she certainly wouldn’t have appreciated it, even if yours did Ronald. Mrs. Weasley must be terribly courageous!” Michael replied, “after all, my mother would not have accepted it if her son was lampooned by Rita Skeeter and the allegations turned out to be true after all!”

Ron smirked back and watched Hermione settle back her arm into Michael’s with a triumphant expression.

“It’s amazing how large one’s head looks on the back of a spoon, isn’t it Josh” Ron laughed vindictively.

Ginny was on the verge of sinking her nails into Ron’s head when Harry stomped in and said, “Hermione did you know, Tonks and Lupin are getting married next month?”

“Yes I talked to Dora the other day when I was at the Ministry for my permission for SPEW. She showed me the engagement ring and said they would have a small ceremony. We’re all invited of course.” Hermione replied all too quickly.

She was conscious of her sweaty palms from watching Ronald Weasley sitting in sharp relief against her date- Michael Cartwright. It was almost as if fate was asking her to make her choices at the moment and end the struggle.

“Are you talking about Nymphadora Tonks? I never knew she was seeing someone, she’s always so busy at work and joking around” Josh ventured. Harry recalled that Tonks was also an Auror and Josh probably knew her as his senior in the department.

Michael cut in, “Lupin? Hermione dear, this can’t possibly be Professor Lupin who taught us Dark Arts for a year? Is it the same gentleman?”

Harry noticed Hermione turn brighter than magenta at the term of endearment that Michael just used for her. Ron took a solid gulp of air into his lungs and flexed his forearms powerfully.

Ginny hastily replied to cover the confusion, “Yes the very same, Michael. He was my favorite Defense against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts”

Michael looked puzzled to a large degree by the information. His dark eyebrows were arched in thought like the drawn wings of a large phoenix. “He was undoubtedly good, but he was a werewolf; I mean I’m quite certain. That’s why Dumbledore dismissed him, didn’t he? I wonder how someone can agree to marry him…”

“No no you’re mistaken about his character Michael…” Hermione tried to explain before Ron cut her through icily-

“I agree Mike, some women can be dismal when it comes to love” he declared staring pointedly.

All the blood seemed to have rushed from Ron’s face and collected at his ears. Hermione jumped at this declaration and looked at him with a strange indefinable expression… not anger or indignation. She seemed to have forgotten all about Michael for that moment… it was as if none were at the table except the both of them. Ron replayed his retort in his mind once more and saw the implication more heavily than he had planned it. He suddenly jumped in his seat, spilling meat at Josh’s clothes and vanished out from the spotless glass revolving doors.

The battle was lost… no prisoners taken.

Read Chapter 16- FIRE AND WATER here

HPNS- Chapter 14

Read Chapter 13 here or start at the beginning

THE WEASLEY SITZKRIEG

Josh locked his fingers in Ginny’s hair passionately and kissed her. She hoped that he wouldn’t notice her recoil.

He didn’t.

He was busy enjoying himself, feasting on her lips. Ginny opened her eyes and wanted to see a different forehead before her… wishing to see a scar… a lightning bolt. Holding back a strong feeling in her abdomen that made her want to scream and cry, she pulled away harder than she had intended.

“What’s wrong? Did I kiss you too hard Gin-Gin?” he asked playfully.

Ginny looked up at him and saw him looking back intently. She couldn’t hide the pain in her gaze, but Josh seemed oblivious. This was wrong… she knew it. It wasn’t just Harry she was hurting… it was Josh.

“Hey I had an idea for our date this Friday” she spoke with feigned enthusiasm, “I’m bringing along a friend so that we can double-date”.

Josh looked startled at the information. This was only their second date as he had been terribly busy at the Ministry covering up for Sam Whittaker who had been absent for a week. Before that, Ginny had been preoccupied with Charlie’s funeral and a friend’s birthday. Ginny knew exactly what Josh was thinking and quickly said, “Don’t worry about us. We’ll have all the fun you want. I told you about Hermione Granger from SPEW, didn’t I? I was thinking of setting her up. But she’s kinda shy so I told her she could come with us.”

The information was absorbed and Josh’s grey eyes looked slightly glazed.

“You’re okay with that aren’t you cuddle-muffin?”

It was done beautifully. Ginny knew that she couldn’t have done it better- he was already weak in his knees. Adding to the effect, she widened her eyes and slightly pouted her mouth.

“Of course she can come” Josh smiled broadly, “I’ve wanted to meet her. She sounds pretty fierce about all that Elfish Rights stuff… but has she agreed to a blind date?”

Ginny hated herself for it, but leaned into Josh’s shoulders and nuzzled softly.

“She’s fine as long I’m there next to her, so that she can kick me if she doesn’t like the guy” Ginny said muffled through Josh’s shirt, “but I know it’ll be fine. Honey, do you know Michael Cartwright?”

"Yeah, our parents know each other. They work in the same department and so we’ve had them over for dinner once”

“Are you setting him up with Hermione?” Josh asked, incredulous.

“Yes” Ginny retorted, smiling mysteriously, “they’re absolutely made for each other”

***

It was fairly late into the night as Hermione sat leafing through the pamphlet designs she had short listed for her campaign. Her quill held between her teeth, she rejected one design after other with an air of frustration.

The apartment was quiet. Esmè was upstairs in the bedroom writing a letter… a letter to Ron Weasley.

Realizing that she was distracted and would never get the work done, Hermione tiptoed up the stairs not wanting to be heard. She waited for a moment before taking a suspicious peek into the bedroom.

Esmè lay on her stomach on the bed writing the missive with an ordinary Muggle ballpoint pen.

She suddenly looked up, her dark hair swishing out of her face.

As though electrocuted Hermione jumped backwards and quickly apparated to the corridor below, grabbing a chair and resuming her file work. She waited for something… some noise… but there was none. Evidently the writing of the letter was more important for Esmè than to investigate a nosy cousin.

Hermione sighed and buried her head in her hands. She couldn’t believe that she was spying on her own cousin… a cousin who was so naïve and innocent, unaware of the feelings she had for Ron. But then even if she could, how could Hermione fight for a relationship that didn’t exist.

Unconsciously her fingers traveled to the chain upon her neck.

With every caress a powerful ugly feeling grew. She wanted their correspondence to cease. She wanted to tear Esmè and Ron apart and with that done, she wanted to claw out Esme’s beautiful face and destroy it.

Hermione shook her head viciously, as though to rid it of the venom that was spreading within her. Ron Weasley would only ever be a friend to her… just a friend. She sighed and fell asleep on the scattered pamphlets.

Next morning, Harry knocked uncertainly at Ron’s door. He shuddered slightly as he heard Ron’s heavy footsteps arrive at the other side of the door and heard him ask who it was.

“Harry James Potter”

Before he could prepare himself for the security question, the door burst open and he stared into Ron’s livid face- astonishingly flared nostrils and bright red ears.

“Why that’s not the right answer!” bellowed Ron maliciously, “Harry Potter is not welcome in my house anymore. Not after he decided to behave like the World’s- Biggest- Dragon-dropping!”

“Ron please let me in! We’ll get killed out here!” Harry screamed over Ron and tried to force his way in.

He was absolutely certain that Ron would curse him out of the door and slam it shut but managed to enter the apartment without the least interference. The door however slammed shut and Harry looked once more at Ron who looked ready enough to murder him.

For a long time Ron merely stared at Harry and then unexpectedly walked into the kitchen, without a word or gesture. Harry shuffled his feet with guilt, not knowing if he should follow him. Finally deciding that there could be no good from silent treatment, he walked into the kitchen.

However he stopped at the doorway shocked at the presence of a stranger near the dining table, sitting next to Ron.

It was an attractive young woman with a face that looked like it was carved with great care. Inexplicably she had her arms around Ron’s neck, much in the same fashion as Lavender Brown.

Harry stared in disbelief while Ron looked back brazenly, and wondered how much he had missed in his absence.

***

“Come on up, we’ll share my room and you can get away from that little slut for the week”, Ginny said viciously as she levitated Hermione’s luggage up the stairs to her room.

She then turned around and led Hermione into the room where they had spent so many summers together. Meanwhile Hermione spun on her feet in the room and inhaled the air of the Burrow once more.

“It’s really kind of you to let me stay. I would have gone to my parents but I can’t tell them why I’m moving out of my apartment. Oh I know this will be a problem for Mrs. Weasley”, Hermione said, twisting her hands uncertainly.

Ginny walked up to her, grabbed Hermione’s arm and forced her to sit on the bed. Then standing over her with her hands on her hips, she shrieked sadistically “Will you shut up-you’re-a-wreck! I can’t believe you let that little twit get away with what she’s doing! And what’s even more unbelievable is that you still like my brother after the abominable jerk he’s just been to you!”

And then she inhaled… caught up with her breath, and looked at Hermione whose expression grew even more sullen.

Ginny sank into the bed beside her and spoke calmly this time, “Look all we need is a plan. Ron’s just being a brainless git and you know that he still loves you. He’s only playing around with that Esmè because that’s all she wants him to do. It’ll serve him right when she gets bored of him and dumps him, but that might take some time to happen, and so we need a plan for faster more effective results”, she finished enthusiastically.

“Alright then, you’re the boss and I’ll do exactly as you say, Ginny” Hermione replied, sounding thoroughly defeated.

***

Ron stood outside the front door to the Burrow with his best friend by his side.

Before knocking he asked Harry “Look mate are you sure you’re ready to meet Percy? He’s still the same remorseless idiot and he’s treated you worse than any of us”

“Yeah I’ll be fine with him. Will Ginny be at home this time” Harry asked. Ron examined Harry’s face closely and saw more guilt than expectation.

And so Ron swelled up to a formidable height and retorted “That’s right she’ll be at home! And there’s no reason for you to make that face! You’d better face it as a punishment after the way you left her and us! Good luck!”

And with that reprimand Ron opened the door and entered his old home once more.

The dining table was full of occupants as usual.

“HARRY?!” roared the voices from the table and Ron watched Harry jump back in fright. Chuckling to himself, he observed their reactions. His mother and father leapt from their seats and rushed to Harry. Fred and George let off fireworks that were unsurprisingly in their pocket, Percy smiled uncertainly and recoiled a little, Ginny’s expression was unmoved and she resumed pouring soup into her bowl…

Ron sank into the couch while everyone interrogated Harry and duly scolded him for his disappearing act.

Immediately he sprang to his feet yelping in pain, as he felt claws tighten on his bottom. Crookshanks looked up at him with malicious yellow eyes and flexed his talons once more threateningly. In a normal circumstance Ron would have hexed the cat and turned it into something amusing… but this time Ron backed away in horror.

“What in blue blazes are you doing here?” he asked softly to Crookshanks who narrowed his eyes and began licking his paws.

“He’s here with me” came the reply from behind Ron.

Turning around cautiously, Ron felt his face grow warm.

Standing at the foot of the staircase was Hermione.

She walked slowly up to Ron and passing him, picked up Crookshanks in her hands and proceeded to the table, taking a seat next to Ginny, who gave Ron the coldest look that had ever been bestowed upon him.

“So how are things Harry? I hope you didn’t suffer much inconvenience in hiding?” Percy asked, rather politely as they all resumed their dinner.

“Yes umm… I’m fine” Harry replied equally politely, wondering how the choice of the word ‘inconvenience’ was so ironical.

Taking every one present by surprise, Ginny asked across the table “Hey Ron! If you meet Josh at the office would you tell him that I’ve decided to stick to Three Broomsticks for our date on Friday. He wanted to take us to that new place- Lady Sangria’s Shack at Diagon Alley, but it’s too cheap. There is absolutely no way I’m going to be caught in a place like that…” she said enthusiastically, ignoring Ron’s indignant face.

Harry couldn’t swallow his morsel, realising that it was aimed more at him than Ron. Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley turned the conversation to more acceptable topics and began lecturing on the muggle killings and torture that was completely baseless and prejudiced.

Ginny continued shamelessly, aiming dart after dart of infamy at Ron, “Why don’t you tell everyone about your new girlfriend?”

Looking as though she had slapped him, Ron mouthed wordlessly at his sister, while Hermione suppressed a tinkling laugh.

“Oh I’m so stupid! It was a one night stand, wasn’t it? She dumped you didn’t she, she was already sleeping with her ex-boyfriend right? Pooh, how insensitive of me!” Ginny overrode Ron’s contemplated reply menacingly.

Mrs. Weasley dived at Percy who was sitting nearest within reach and shielded his years from such a profane discussion. Mr. Weasley swallowed his soup too hard and began to choke, tears streaming down his eyes. Harry struggled to control his laughter, as Fred and George looked more dangerous than ever before.

“Wha-?!” Ron yelled as Mrs. Weasley dashed at him and dragged him away from the company, pulling him by the ear. They could hear the ranting from the corridor where several uncomfortable interrogations were being hurled at Ron. Mr. Weasley turned red-eyed at Ginny, who took the queue and vacated her seat saying she wasn’t hungry for dessert. Hermione followed, and moments later Harry had to intercept in the row between Ron and Mrs. Weasley and pull them apart.

***

Friday morning came a little too bright and sunny for Harry’s comfort. As he lay awake on his bunker he heard silence from Ron’s end on the bed above him. The silence was rather disconcerting; Harry usually woke to Ron’s low, rumbling snores.

Stretching rather luxuriously in his sheets, Harry shook away the sleep in his eyes… it had been a rewarding sleep.

“There’s no use for us both to lie awake like this” Harry said clearing his throat.

As expected, Ron’s vivid head peeked down at him from above. They stared at each other’s sleepy faces for a few moments and then Ron turned on his back once more, yawning loudly.

An hour later they were both dressed and ready for a meager breakfast at the crowded little table. Ron wasn’t much of a cook. Harry pretended to read the Prophet while actually observing his best friend dip his spoon sadly into his cereal.

He couldn’t understand what Ron had seen in her… undoubtedly she had been beautiful. But she didn’t really care about him, only for the fact that she had a hold on him. She wasn’t as smart or interesting as her cousin, but then again Ron had a penchant for attracting women who only lusted after him, for reasons Harry didn’t want to explore.

He knew Ron to be someone who found comfort in his flatterers; he enjoyed being powerful and popular… just as much as Harry hated it.

Being the ‘best friend’, he felt it was his duty to explain all this to Ron, but he knew that it wouldn’t make Ron feel better and there was always the chance of being kicked out… and so, he continued to pretend-to-read-the-Prophet.

“So where are you planning to run away next?” Ron asked harshly, looking down at his cereal with disgust.

“I can’t run away” Harry replied, jerked from ‘observation mode’, “the Order is going to keep a track on me. Lupin doesn’t think it’s a good idea to hide in caves, or anywhere in fact. He said I could do all my research here, and… umm… get help”

Ron looked at Harry with a curiously distorted expression. It seemed like he thought Harry was being thick… as though Harry had forgotten something important.

Harry stared back again. He thought Ron looked haggard and in need of a vacation. His eyes had become dark with fatigue. He couldn’t imagine why Ron was missing Esmè so much… was it really that serious?

“You know what? I’ll get off work early today and we’ll go for dinner somewhere” Ron said, with a frustrated look, “I need to talk to you about something important and I can’t eat this trash at home anymore”

***

“When will Josh be here to pick us up?” Hermione asked nervously combing her hair by the dresser, while Ginny applied mascara.

“At about nine” Ginny replied not taking her eyes away from her reflection.

Hermione examined her from the corner of her eye. She was wearing Muggle clothes. A pair of lace ankle-length pants and violet tunic dress. Her hair was left casually open and it looked trim and silky.

Hermione secretly wished that she could have been as attractive and confident, not to mention, knowledgeable about dressing up. Sadly the only books that were ever written about how to dress up for dates; were the ones she didn’t touch.

“Wow! Look at you! You look sooo pretty!” Ginny exclaimed, turning around to look at Hermione, who was examining herself gingerly.

“Thanks” she mumbled unconvinced and continued to adjust her hair and skirt.

Ginny walked up to her… more like floated… Hermione thought she looked like a beautiful Elf Princess.

“You just need to relax” she said cheerfully adjusting Hermione’s blouse, “Michael’s really handsome and very gentle-man. I won’t lie, he wasn’t very excited about a ‘blind date’, but I have faith in you and I know he’ll fall for you the moment he sees you!”

Hermione let out a huge sigh, and examined her reflection once more… she was willing to give Michael a chance, but she wasn’t sure if Michael would do the same for her. She wondered what Ron would say if he found out that right after he had been dumped by Esme, she had gone on a blind date. But then she wasn’t accountable to him and didn’t care where he was or what he thought.

As though they had anticipated a disastrous evening, Harry and Ron walked in at quarter past nine into Lady Sangria’s Shack. The moment he entered the place Ron knew that he had fallen victim to Ginny’s infuriating tricks. Lady Sangria’s Shack was hardly a Shack… it was decorated as irksomely as Madame Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade. More than anything from the look of the chairs and tables, the lavish ambience and the people who were dining there, he knew that he had come to the wrong place for dinner.

The only reason he had picked it was because he was sure NOT to bump into Josh and Ginny on their obnoxious date here.

He thought they would be at Hogsmeade… but then again, “Ginny would love to be seen in a joint like this” he thought to himself ominously.

“Great-looking place mate!” Harry said with sarcasm, “Just remember, the meal’s on you, my Auror-buddy!”

As they seated themselves in red velvet-cushioned chairs Ron wondered if this was a bad month altogether for finances. First it had been Hermione’s necklace and now this completely useless dinner.

He knew it was too late to apparate out.

They placed their orders and looked around at the swanky restaurant. And then Ron finally shook himself to say something he had been dying to say ever since Harry had come back, and Esmè had gone back to Mexico to her ‘old boyfriend’.

“Harry, when are you going to ask me to be your Secret Keeper?” he said quite plainly.

Predictably, Harry jerked in his seat and stared at him. He wasn’t shocked or angry.

But before Ron could fathom Harry’s expression, he let out a gasp, his worst fears realized. Josh Darlington walked in through the door with his arm around his little sister’s waist. They were followed by Hermione who looked as breathtaking as he had seen her at the Yule Ball. But Ron couldn’t recognize the tall, attractive man who was behind her… his hand on the small of her back.