The Next Dance

THE NEXT DANCE

BY AERIE22

CHAPTER 20

CLEOPATRA'S WRATH

Harry was startled out of his slumber by the gentle hand of Mae Strowbridge, shaking his shoulder. He blinked several times to see her concerned smile. "Harry," she said softly. "You have a visitor."

The events of the night before came crashing into his mind. The countdown to midnight. The blinding pain. Voldemort's voice. The threats against him. Against his friends. Against Parvati.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut in anger and worry, then slowly reached for his new, wire-framed glasses. Looking back up at Mae, he blinked again. "Visitor? Tonks?"

Mae sighed. "No, Miss Tonks spent the night here. She's in the room at the end of the hall. We all thought it best that she stay last night."

Harry nodded. He wanted to be annoyed at having a babysitter, but he was grateful for Tonks's help and support. He looked up again. "Who?"

"Your Headmaster."

* * *

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said with false cheer. "New glasses, I see. Most becoming. I myself have always favored rimless glasses."

Harry frowned and nodded. He took a deep breath. "I guess I messed up," he said sadly.

Professor Dumbledore took Harry's desk chair as Harry pulled his heavy dressing gown more tightly around him and sat on the edge of the bed. "Yes, well, practicing apparation without adult supervision is not the wisest of courses. We are frankly at a loss as to how you overpowered the wards. But I have restored them," he said while peering over his reading glasses. "May we assume that there will be no more repeats until you get back to Hogwarts?" he said with a hint of a grin.

Harry sat there and stared. "That's not what I was talking about," he said in confusion. "Voldemort knows. He got through to me." Harry frowned anxiously. "Does that mean he's going to see what I see and give me more nightmares and like that?"

Dumbledore templed his fingers. "First, you did not 'mess up' on that count. Voldemort understood that there was some connection between you two, and doubtless has been searching for it for quite some time. Unfortunately, he seems to have found it."

Harry nodded morosely.

"As for his ability to monitor your thoughts, that is problematic," Dumbledore continued. "There is a simple--but not so simple--solution to that particular problem."

Harry looked up with an anxious frown.

"It is an art called Occlumency. It is the ability to shield one's mind from intrusions."

Harry blinked. "Can I learn it?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry. You must learn it." The Headmaster pursed his lips. "I understand from my conversation with Miss Tonks that you may have already employed a very rudimentary form of it without even realizing it."

Harry continued to stare anxiously at the aged Headmaster. "I did?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "When did you first sense Voldemort's presence?"

Harry wrinkled his forehead in thought. "Well...I suppose it was when we were at tea. I started to get upset at something Sirius said. Then it kept building and building until I was shouting and ran off. It was like I suddenly had a headache and wanted to yell at everyone. Was that him?"

Dumbledore gave a vague, thoughtful nod. "Possibly. Possibly your anger was the trigger that finally gave him the route of access. He merely fed on it." Dumbledore then looked up. "And at your dance?"

Harry shrugged. "That came out of nowhere. Tonks was teasing me and then there was the pain and his voice." Harry suddenly turned. "He said we wouldn't be around for another New Year's Eve. That he was going to kill me and my friends, and Parvati, this year."

Dumbledore nodded again. "Idle threats...boasting," he said absently. "And you were able to drive him off?"

Harry nodded. "I guess. I suddenly got this vision of him burning from Parvati's incendio curse in the Forbidden Forest."

Dumbledore's eyes took on a new life and he chuckled softly. "Perhaps that vision had the same effect on Voldemort's injuries and scars as his invasions into your mind have on your scar. Perhaps you caused him physical pain akin to what you felt in your scar. Or perhaps it was simply psychic trauma. Most interesting."

Harry looked down, deep in thought. "So maybe I can learn this occlumcy?"

Dumbledore looked up. "Occlumency. It is a means by which you can guard your mind against attack and intrusion. And there is the sister art of Legilimency, where someone may extract feelings or memories from others. That is what Voldemort has been doing to you."

Harry's eyelids fluttered. "You mean, reading minds?"

Dumbledore tilted his head. "Not precisely. It is the ability to enter another's mind and sense emotions, feelings, past memories that motivate present behavior. With a willing subject, particular memories can be projected to the one practicing Legilimency. And sometimes, it can be used as a weapon, as Voldemort has been doing with you."

Harry stared at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore sighed. "And in certain rare cases, where the wizard is particularly adept, he can see through another's eyes." He raised his eyes to Harry. "You saw through Voldemort's eyes. Perhaps he can see through yours when he attacks your mind."

Harry nodded, looking down at his lap. "He saw Moody and Sirius...and Tonks," he said quietly. "He thinks I'm in the Wizarding World."

"Good," Dumbledore murmured in a distracted voice.

Harry suddenly looked up. "So he can read anyone's mind?"

"He'll be right sore when he reads mine," came a familiar voice from the doorway to his room.

Harry's head jerked up and noticed for the first time Tonks behind Tony and Mae, standing with her arms crossed, leaning on his door frame.

Dumbledore turned around. "No, Miss Tonks. He cannot read random minds from far away. He must be in the presence of the subject, or linked through a magical connection, such as the one he has with Harry's scar."

"I didn't know you were still here," Harry said to Tonks as he nervously tightened his dressing gown around him.

Dumbledore turned back to Harry. "I have asked your guardians if Miss Tonks could stay here with you for a few days to help you get started with your studies."

Harry gave Tonks a fearful look. "You mean you can read my mind?"

Tonks gave an evil laugh. "And what a dirty little mind it is..." Then she suddenly blushed as she realized Tony and Mae were in the room.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling for the first time all morning. "No, Harry. Miss Tonks is not a Legilimens. But she is learned in certain techniques that may assist you in your studies."

Harry nodded, half in relief and half in anxiety. "So how do I learn this...Occlumacy?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Occlumency. I will leave a couple books with you. They are of some limited help to get you familiar with the concepts."

Harry sighed. More book learning.

Dumbledore rose. "On Friday evening, when you return to Hogwarts, we shall arrange your schedule to receive regular tutoring."

Harry rose awkwardly off his bed, frantically arranging his bathrobe to preserve his modestly, particularly from Tonks. "Who will tutor me?"

Dumbledore had just finished thanking Tony and Mae for their time and indulgence when he turned back to Harry. "Professor Snape, Harry."

* * *

Harry's eyes fluttered open.

"Feel more relaxed?" Tonks asked.

Harry wasn't sure. He didn't see the point of all the breathing exercises and the meditation. He would rather be out running or working out than just sitting there. Trying to relax was not the most relaxing thing in the world. "No."

Tonks flopped back on the couch in the drawing room in mock exasperation. "Potter! Relax! That's an order!" she yelled.

Harry smiled at her antics and at the chuckling he could hear from Mae in the kitchen. He shook his head. The Occlumency books Dumbledore had given him were not much help. One seemed to concentrate on the uses and ethics of Legilimency and Occlumency, while the other was written in such technical, arcane language, that getting through it was like wading through knee-deep mud.

Tonks sighed. "You should start out by thinking peaceful, happy thoughts. Moody says you can do a Patronus. What do you think about when you cast it?"

Harry suddenly blushed furiously. "Uh, I'd rather not say."

Tonks gave out a strange, strangling sound as she stifled a laugh. "It...it wasn't always that, was it," she said with dancing eyes.

Harry's blush deepened and he slowly shook his head. "It...used to be about flying, Quidditch and stuff, and finding out I was a wizard and my friends...my other friends."

Tonks squealed in delight. "Maybe now it's about all those girls who keep stopping by? Maybe Patty, or Beth...or maybe it's that cute little Pam?" she said with a leering smile.

Harry blushed and frowned.

"Or maybe Sara," Tonks said in a teasing voice. "You have a thing for older women, Harry?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Harry snorted and clutched a throw pillow to his chest.

"Or maybe it's someone else..." she said, her smile softening.

Harry's frown faded and his eyes lost a little of their focus.

Tonks smiled and got up off the couch and approached the wing chair Harry was sitting in. She bent down, grabbing the armrests of the chair and leaned forward towards Harry. "I want you to concentrate."

Harry glanced around, shyly trying to avoid Tonks's stare.

"Look at me, Harry. What do you see?"

Harry blushed and finally looked up. "Uh, Tonks?"

"What do you see?"

Harry slammed his eyes shut. "Your blouse is unbuttoned," he said in a squeak.

Tonks straightened up, blushing a little, and realized Harry was right. The top button on her blouse had come undone and the second button was missing, showing far more cleavage than she would like. She shook her head. "Well, if old Voldie was looking in on us, we gave him a right show, now, didn't we?" she said with a crooked smile.

She sighed. "You really are getting cabin fever aren't you?"

Harry gave a noncommittal grunt.

Tonks shook her head. "Don't worry. You'll see her in a couple days."

Harry frowned and squirmed a little. Finally, he looked up at Tonks. "Can I ask you a question...or, like, your opinion?"

Tonks smiled and gave him a quick nod.

Harry lowered his eyes to his lap and was silent for a few moments. "Uh, Voldemort said he was coming after me...and my friends. But he especially said he would be coming after Parvati."

Tonks's face showed sudden concern. "He said that?"

Harry fidgeted. "I told you that," he said anxiously. "He said I wouldn't see another New Year's Eve. Nor my little friends. Nor my 'slut,' as he called her, the bastard," Harry growled.

Tonks, now buttoned up again, sat on the arm of the armchair Harry was sitting in. "Don't worry, Harry. You're all being protected. We have our eyes on what he's planning."

Harry continued to fidget. "I was thinking...well, maybe I'm putting Parvati in danger and all. Maybe I shouldn't have a girlfriend...or anyone close to me..."

Tonks suddenly grabbed the top of Harry's head and twisted it so he faced her. "Now you listen to me, Harry. Parvati...and all your other friends are in danger no matter what you do. You think if you break up with Parvati she'll be any less of a target? After what she did to that subhuman little worm? She practically fried him on the spot! Don't you think for an instant that anything you do will make any of them, including Parvati, safe from that maniac. All it will do is make you and her miserable and make it easier for him to hurt you both. I wouldn't give up what you have for anything," she cried.

Harry frowned. "I hate this. I really hate this," he muttered.

Tonks sat down on the arm of Harry's chair a frowned thoughtfully, staring at the fire. As moments passed, she glanced down at Harry, who was staring at the floor, a morose look on his face. She shook her head sadly. Then, a hint of a smile played across her face.

"You know, Harry, I never got my New Year's Eve smooch."

Harry slowly raised his head and looked at her blankly. "Smooch?"

Tonks's eyes took on a evil gleam. "Here I was out on New Year's Eve with the sexiest wizard under 25, and I never got my kiss," she said with a mock pout, barely suppressing a giggle.

Harry gave a quick frown, then looked up at her. "A kiss?"

Tonks suddenly slid off the arm of the chair, pressing next to Harry. "That's right. You owe me a wet one, you do."

Harry squirmed, wedged against the other arm of the chair. He looked at her leering face. Then, without warning, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "There. Happy now?"

Tonks recoiled in mock horror. "That? A Kiss? That's an old maiden aunt kiss! I want a wet one!" she exclaimed throwing her arms around Harry's neck.

Harry quickly ducked under her embrace and jumped out of the chair. Giving Tonks his best haughty Snape impersonation, he looked down his nose at her. "I thought a quick kiss from a sexy wizard like me would have you swooning," he said imperiously.

Tonks stared up at Harry in surprise. Then she burst into giggles. She had managed to lift his spirits without much of a struggle. Then she narrowed her eyes and gave him a smoldering look. "One is never enough from you, you sexy thing. Come here, lover boy." She jumped out of her chair and made a grab for him, which he deftly avoided, darting behind the sofa, and giving her a boyish grin.

She began stalking him, and he continued to back away, his eyes dancing. "I'm coming for you, Harry," she said with a throaty chuckle. "I'm going to get you."

Harry smiled and again parried her lunge, rolling over the top of sofa and quickly springing to his feet as he continued to back away from her.

Tonks feinted to her right and then leaped over the sofa as Harry overreacted. She managed to grab his right arm as he attempted to flee again. As he moved to twist away, he overbalanced and Tonks managed to twist him so he fell awkwardly into the corner of the couch, and she fell on top of him. She was on his prone form in a second, pinning him under her.

"Got you at last, you heartbreaker," she giggled as she positioned her face over his. "Now I think I'll have my way with you." She then lowered herself to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

But as she kissed him, her lips lingered. She felt his arm loop around her back. And she lowered herself to kiss him again. This was no maiden aunt kiss, she thought. It was nice. More than nice.

Suddenly, she felt his grip around her waist loosen and she pulled away. She looked down at him and saw a disconcerted frown. She cleared her throat and slowly rose to a sitting position. Finally, regaining her composure, she turned to him and, with a wan smile, looked at his blushing face. "Something tells me you've done that before," she whispered.

Harry, staring at his lap, nodded.

"Parvati?"

Harry nodded again.

Tonks gave a quiet, throaty chuckle. "She's a good kisser?"

Harry cautiously looked up at her with an uncertain smile. "Yeah."

"Better than all those other girls you've been kissing?"

Harry looked at her with a start. "I...well...Sara...that was just for practice...she was showing me how. And Pam...well, we only kissed a couple times. And Hermione, well, she kissed me once...on the cheek...and later I kissed her, but again only on the cheek...and she never kissed me back..."

Tonks blinked and then burst out in laughter. Finally, she looked back at Harry, her eyes brimming with mirth. "All those girls," she said, shaking her head. "But you didn't answer the most important question. Better than me?"

Harry blushed furiously. "But I love her."

Tonks looked at Harry with a smile. She didn't know him that well. He seemed like a nice young man. A little awkward and not terribly sophisticated. He was nice looking. Perhaps bordering on handsome now that he was losing the softness of youth and his face was beginning to become more angular and masculine.

But now, Tonks sensed something different. He was still a teenaged boy. Only 15. But there was something about him. No, she wasn't about to fall in love with him. But she could see in him something...something special. Something that made her want to hold him, to help him, to protect him. He was like the little brother she never had. Or maybe the kind of boyfriend she always had wanted when she was in school, but never seemed to find. Someone who was nice, and attractive, and caring, and sexy. And, maybe, a little dangerous--but honorable, just the same.

She slowly reached out and threw her arm around his shoulders as he sat next to her. He turned to look at her with an apologetic smile.

"So I'm not as good a kisser as Parvati," she said, suddenly making a face at him and turning her hair from yellow blond to purple.

Harry snorted, then made a face back at her.

Tonks blinked in surprise. "Harry, do that again."

Harry blinked and gave her a puzzled look. "Do what?"

Tonks raised her left eyebrow. "Tell me I'm not the best kisser you've had," she said with a smirk, flashing her hair to lavender.

Harry cocked his own eyebrow. "You'll do, with a little practice," he said with a haughty smirk.

Tonks blinked again, then smiled. She quickly stood up and grabbed Harry, hauling him up and turning him to face a mirror that was hung on the side of the fireplace.

Harry looked, then stared, his eyes wide. His hair was lavender, just like Tonks's. It slowly faded back to black. He turned back to Tonks. "You did that," he said in an accusing voice.

Tonks shook her head. "No, that was your doing. Looks like you were mimicking me."

Harry frowned. "I never did anything like that before. It was you," he said and glared at her.

Tonks continued to stare at him. "Have you ever been able to do anything with your face, your hair, your body that you couldn't explain? Maybe you found yourself in a tight spot and were able to squeeze through it even if it was narrower than you could fit? Or maybe you were the best at making faces among your mates when you were young. Anything like that?"

Harry frowned, then shook his head. "A apparated by accident a couple times."

Tonks frowned thoughtfully. "And you never did anything with your hair, like change its color to annoy or amuse someone?"

Harry blinked. "Oh," he said in half surprise. "A couple times. Once when there was an outbreak of cooties a couple towns over and my aunt claimed I would probably bring them home with me so she shaved my head. And another time when my aunt got mad about how messy it was, she cut it real short."

Tonks blinked. "Cooties?"

Harry sighed. "Head lice. She said if there were cooties within 20 miles of the house, I would attract them and bring them home with me."

Tonks started. "Oh. So what happened?"

Harry shrugged. "Both times my hair grew back overnight. Aunt Petunia was furious. She swore I was doing it just to spite her."

Tonks was staring at him again. "But nothing with your body? No accidents? No growing taller or getting shorter overnight?"

Harry shook his head.

Tonks leaned back deep in thought. "You may be a metamorphmagus, like me. Maybe not a full one, but still..."

It was Harry's turn to stare. "You mean I could change the way I look?" Suddenly, he started concentrating and making faces in an attempt to change his appearance.

Tonks gave a mild snort. "Please stop, Harry. It looks like you're constipated." She rolled her eyes and smiled, but then her smile softened. "Even if you have the metamorphmagus trait, you probably will never be a full one like me."

He gave her a quizzical look.

She sighed. "Look, being a metamorphmagus is as much physical as it is magical. And your body has to be made accustomed to physically changing from an early age. You muscles and sinews have to be trained up so changing shape becomes second nature. Once your body stops growing, it becomes nearly impossible for you to fully develop your skills."

Harry nodded with a frown.

Tonks sighed. "Are you still growing?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I was always short. The summer before my fourth year I only came up to here on my cousin," he said, putting his hand under his nose. "When I got home for this past summer, I was a little taller than him, and none of my robes or old clothes were long enough. Then Mae measured me. At the end of the summer I was five foot ten...almost. And then she measured me again last week. It was almost the same," he said with a sigh. "Sirius says my dad was almost as tall as he was, and he's over six feet tall. Taller than Ron. And he keeps complaining about how thin I am. He said my dad was broader."

Tonks gave him a sympathetic look. "Listen, you have a nice lean frame. That's not a bad thing. It's kind of sexy, as long as you're in decent shape."

Harry simply blushed.

Then Tonks frowned. "So you probably passed your growth spurt. That's too bad. My mum recognized my talent early and worked with me on it. It was actually playing, since we would have fun making faces at each other and doing gymnastics and flexibility drills. Maybe you can become a meta, but probably not a full-blown one. Maybe we can work on that."

Harry hung his head. Another opportunity lost.

"Aw, poor little Harrikins," Tonks said in exaggerated sympathy.

Harry looked up and saw her contort her face into a parody of a pout, and began giggling. She suddenly changed her face back and her hair flashed pink.

Harry made a face in return and Tonks laughed as his hair flashed an odd light color for an instant before returning to raven black.

Tonks again burst out laughing. "Oooo, you'd look so sexy with bubblegum pink hair!"

* * *

The sleek silver blue Jaguar sedan pulled cautiously out of the drive of an elegant two-story home. The trim woman with brown curly hair carefully looked both ways before pulling the car fully onto the lightly traveled lane in the upper middle-class suburban neighborhood.

She turned to her companion in the front seat. "You know your father feels terrible that he was called away to an emergency surgery this morning," she said quietly with a sigh. She turned to her daughter. "Terrible thing, what? That poor boy will end up with his jaw wired shut for a month and will be lucky if he retains any of his front teeth after that blow. That's what comes of driving after too much drink," she said with a frown. "Buckled up?" she suddenly asked brightly.

Hermione Granger sunk her chin to her chest. "Yes, Mum," she answered sulkily.

Maude Granger gave a small inward sigh. She gave her daughter a sidelong glance. "Are you going to talk about it now, dear? Just between us girls?"

Hermione grunted. "What's the point?'

Maude shook her head. "Please, dear, stop that," she said in a firm but consoling manner. "Don't start to withdraw."

Hermione huffed. "I'm not withdrawing."

Maude now sighed audibly. "I know how you are, sweetie. You are a strong and smart young woman. But you are also very sheltered. And when something happens that hurts you deeply, you try to withdraw. Like all those times when you were young. I'm sorry I wasn't a good enough mother to understand what was going on..."

Hermione turned her head sharply, her eyes wide. "You are a wonderful mother!" she exclaimed.

Maude shook her head. "I just didn't understand what you were going through. If I knew ... if we knew that such a thing as magic existed, we would have been better prepared. I just hoped for the best."

Hermione frowned sadly, chewing her bottom lip. "None of us knew. But you were always there for me. You and dad."

Maude paused as she made the turn on to the boulevard to take her to the highway. "But all we did was shelter you," she said sadly. "And now we can't be there for you every day. So you have to be strong and face life."

Hermione harrumphed. "I don't know," she said sourly. "He knew I loved him but he chose her instead. The bitch."

Maude Granger gave a snort. "Now you stop that, young lady. I don't know this girl. But from all your descriptions of her before this all happened, she seemed to be a harmless ball of fluff. No substance. And not one with a good track record with boys. Is that right?"

Hermione lowered her head. "She knew I loved Harry. She even admitted it after. Said she was trying to get us together. But she stole him away anyway."

Maude shook her head sadly. "Sweetie, do you think you're the first woman who saw some young piece interfere with her romance? There was a young tart who had her eye on your father while we were in dental school. We had a fight and she moved right in. But your father saw her for what she was and came back to me. You know why?"

Hermione was now staring at her mother. She shook her head.

Maude Granger took a deep breath. "Because I stayed close. I didn't give up my life. I dated other young men. But I let him know I was there for him when he needed me, as a friend if nothing else. And when he broke up with...that woman, I was there for him."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Really?"

Maude took another deep breath. "Yes. So if this Parvati is a shallow as you say, Harry will see through her soon enough. And if you stay close, who do you think he'll turn to?"

Hermione sank down in her seat in thought.

Maude cleared her throat. "And if he's not as intelligent or perceptive as you say he is, remember, you are a beautiful young woman. Any boy would be crazy not to jump at the chance to be with you."

Hermione pouted. "I am not beautiful."

Maude rolled her eyes. "Of course you are, sweetie," she said firmly. "What did you say happened last year at that Winter Ball you went to? Both Harry and Ron abandoned their dates to dote on you. And what about this year's Ball. Harry told you how beautiful you were, even though he was going out with that other girl. I'll bet he was kicking himself for not asking you instead of her."

Hermione squirmed a little, wanting to believe and yet wanting to deny it. But maybe...

"And anyway, you have Ron. I know he's just a friend. But he seems nice looking and you said he's been very nice to you lately. I'll bet he really likes you," Maude said quietly with a glint in her eye.

Hermione frowned. "Ron's okay. But he's just a friend..."

"Just be there for Harry. But don't spend all your time mooning over him. Live a little. You're a beautiful young girl. And you're only young once."

* * *

"HARRY!!!"

Tonks and Tony and Mae Strowbridge turned in time to see the bushy-haired girl launch herself into Harry's arms.

"Harry! I can't believe you got me the latest edition of Hogwarts: A History. And with a one-year subscription! It was a wonderful gift."

Harry stood there with a crooked, disconcerted smile on his face as Hermione looked up at him while holding tight to his arm, blushing and smiling broadly. "I knew...your copy was old...like from 10 years ago or something...and I saw your name in the index..."

The Strowbridges were chuckling as a petite, attractive, 40ish woman with short brown curly hair came up wheeling a luggage trolley. "You must be Reverend Strowbridge, and Mae Strowbridge," she said with a smile, holding out her hand.

Tony and Mae smiled warmly. "And you are Hermione's mother," Tony said.

As Mrs. Granger and the Strowbridges chatted, Harry looked down at Hermione, who still had a hold of his arm and was smiling uncertainly up at him. He felt an odd excitement that his old crush was holding on to him so tightly. "Uh, how was your Christmas, Hermione?"

She rolled her eyes. "My grandparents came. Both sets. It was nothing but old people for nearly two weeks. I mean, I love them like anything, but to hear them argue back and forth about Churchill or Atlee in the 1950s. Honestly!"

Harry looked around. "I didn't see your dad," he mumbled.

Hermione frowned. "He had an emergency surgery," she said with a sigh. "You know he's an oral and maxillofacial surgeon. And once every couple weeks, he's on call at the local hospital. Well, there was a car wreck and he had to work."

Harry nodded, still glancing nervously around.

"And how was your holiday," Hermione asked with some trepidation.

Harry looked down at her and saw her anxious eyes. "Okay," he said quietly. "I had fun. I stayed with the Patils and saw Sirius and Remus and...oh, and Tonks. I went to a New Year's Eve dance with Tonks. She broke up with a guy and was in the neighborhood, so Tony asked her to go with me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes momentarily, glancing around Harry at the young Auror who was chatting with her mother, then she smiled again. "Not like a date?"

Harry shook his head. "No. We did dance a lot, but not like a date."

There was a sudden commotion and the two looked up to see Parvati and Padma, accompanied by Shane and Monkey, arguing and trundling two carriages with the twins' trunks. Then Parvati turned and saw Harry, then saw Hermione clinging to Harry, and narrowed her eyes.

Harry broke away from Hermione to run over to greet Parvati with a hug.

"What's she doing clinging to you like that," Parvati growled in his ear.

Harry tightened his embrace. "I missed you so much," he whispered.

Slowly, Parvati's posture softened and she returned his hug. "I missed you, too. You were thinking of me on New Year's Eve, weren't you," she said, now with a kittenish smile.

Harry winced internally at the memory of Voldemort and how protective he suddenly felt toward this young woman in his arms. "I could hardly stop thinking about you."

She suddenly leaned up and kissed him. It felt wonderful. He didn't even think about how public the kiss was.

"How's your fluvius charm. You think we should hose them off?"

Harry and Parvati broke their kiss and turned toward a smirking Hanuman, Harry blushing and Parvati glowering.

"Shut up, Monkey," she growled and Hanuman took on an injured expression to the laughter of Shane and Padma.

"All right. Time for the Express," Shane exclaimed as the group made their way toward the Strowbridges and Hermione and her mum. Harry and Parvati were so engrossed in each other that they didn't notice Hermione's annoyed look or the sad expression on Maude Granger's face.

* * *

It had been a calm, though perhaps a little tense, ride back on the Hogwarts Express. Ron, Hermione, and Padma joined Harry and Parvati in one compartment. Hermione and Padma buried themselves in books, although Padma, sitting on one side of Harry while Parvati sat on the other, would occasionally elbow him or pinch him with a chuckle when he teased Parvati about their family.

Ron seemed to be the only one animated during the trip, chattering on about the Burrow and Christmas. He rolled his eyes about Harry's description of the New Year's Eve dance and about Tonks's antics. Harry avoided mentioning the final scene, of course. "What kind of name is Tonks, anyway?" he exclaimed.

"Martian," Harry said with a laugh.

When Parvati, Padma and Hermione eventually dozed off, Ron gave Harry a puzzled look. "Uh, Harry?"

Harry smiled at his best friend. "Hmmm?"

Ron blushed. "Well, thanks for the cool Christmas present. The gloves are really great. Especially in orange," he said uncertainly.

Harry cocked an eyebrow, then gave a sly smile. "Think they're odd because they're Muggle gloves?"

Ron frowned. "That's what's got me stumped. They're really warm and all. How do they do that without being charmed?"

Harry chuckled. "You haven't figured out the real secret about them yet, have you?"

Ron pursed his lips. "Well, when you press them together, they seem sticky, but when you touch them with your bare hand, they're not. Is there such a thing as a Muggle charm?"

Harry began laughing. "They're underwater gloves. People use them when they go deep sea diving."

Ron gave Harry a disconcerted look. "Uhh, I'm not exactly planning to go underwater soon. I'm an okay swimmer, but outside the pond at the end of our property, I haven't rightly been underwater much. Last year during the TriWizard Tournament was enough for a lifetime."

Harry gave a quiet, knowing laugh. "Get them out," he said as he pulled his trunk down from the overhead bin carefully so as not to disturb the girls. He opened the fourth compartment of his trunk and pulled out the case containing a set of Quidditch balls and clubs.

Ron had pulled out the gloves and looked at Harry uncertainly.

Harry gave him a look. "Well, put them on," he ordered.

As Ron put on the international orange gloves, Harry removed the Quaffle from its place in the box. "Ready?"

Ron stared at Harry.

Suddenly, Harry tossed the Quaffle high and off to the side. Ron instinctively reached to the Quaffle, which should have been just off his fingertips. But somehow, he managed to grip the Quaffle by his fingertips. He looked at the Quaffle, then at Harry. "Whoooooa!" he gasped.

Harry was now laughing. "Those gloves are designed to grip underwater. Like, when your hands are wet, stuff seems to slide off your fingers. Well, the gloves are made out of a special kind of material to prevent that. It makes you able to grab and hold on to things, even smooth things like glass, without them slipping out of your hands."

Ron was still staring at his fingertip grip on the odd-shaped ball. Then, a look of recognition flashed on his face, quickly replaced by a frown. "Wait," he said with concern. "You're not allowed to wear sticky-fingered gloves in Quidditch. It's against the rules," he said in consternation.

Harry laughed again. "Drop the ball," he said with a smile.

Ron eased his grip and the Quaffle dropped out of his hand. Ron blinked, then grabbed the Quaffle and put it in his lap. He pressed the palm of his hand on the ball and tried to raise it up, but the ball just lay there. Then he grabbed the ball in both hands and twisted his hands in opposite directions. Once pressed against the ball's surface, neither glove wanted to move with Ron's movements. He looked up at Harry with wide-eyed amazement. "This is absolutely bloody brilliant!" he exclaimed.

Harry began to laugh, but Ron continued to examine the gloves.

"Why doesn't anyone know about these things?" Ron exclaimed.

Harry continued to chuckle. "Tony and I got bored while out shopping, so we went over to a Muggle sporting goods store while Mae was looking at clothes. I saw these gloves and wondered what they were about. I don't think anyone in the Wizarding world would think to look for Quidditch stuff in a Muggle store. At least none in the area that sells underwater gear. They're perfect for chasers."

Ron was now concentrating on maintaining a fingertip grip on the Quaffle while waving his arm violently around the carriage. "Amazing," he kept muttering with a faraway look in his eyes. "Bloody brilliant."

Harry chuckled. "Don't tell anyone. Just say they're Chudley Cannons gloves. If they work for you, I'll have Tony go back and order some for the whole team."

Ron got an evil gleam in his eyes. "Wicked."

* * *

"Well, Mr. Potter, do come in."

Harry slipped in to Professor McGonagall's office with some trepidation. During the first couple days back, things had been quiet. Harry kept waiting for Professor Dumbledore to call him in to arrange for Occlumency training with Professor Snape, but nothing had happened. At least not yet.

But now he was in Professor McGonagall's office. He had heard that all fifth year students would be called into their head of house offices for a counseling session at the beginning of the second term. But he was nonetheless wary. He was even more wary as he seemed to be the first to be called.

"Have a seat, Mr. Potter. I'll try not to make this too painful," McGonagall said with a sly grin. When Harry was seated, she pushed a piece of parchment in front of him.

POTTER, HARRY JAMES

Class ranking:

Fifth Year/First Term Report

Ancient Runes: NA

Arithmancy: NA

Astronomy: 16/37

Care of Magical Creatures: 2/37

Charms: 4/37

Defense Against Dark Arts: 1/37

Divination: 30/37

Herbology: 7/37

History of Magic: 5/37

Muggle Studies: NA

Potions: 5/37

Transfiguration: 4/37

Overall Class Rank: 6/37

Harry blinked, trying to focus on the meaning of the writing before him. Finally, he looked up at his head of house. "What does this mean, Professor?"

McGonagall gave a little chuckle. "It means, Mr. Potter, that you have raised your class standing to a remarkable extent. Were it not for your little problems at the beginning of the year when you were barely there for a week of classes, and your difficulties with ... ahem, Madame Trelawney, we would have had two Gryffindors among the top five students for the first time in 15 years."

Harry shook his head. "There must be some mistake," he mumbled. "I'm too dumb to have these grades."

McGonagall's jaw dropped. "What do you mean, dumb? Who ever said you were dumb?"

Harry looked up at her with an uncomfortable expression. "Well...everyone, I guess. I mean everyone said I was dumb growing up. I wasn't allowed to have any books in the house because they said I was too stupid to learn to read. I was never any good in the Muggle schools. And when I came here, I hated to study, to read all those assignments and stuff."

McGonagall blinked in surprise. "You are not stupid, Harry!" she exclaimed. "How do you explain that you were ranked 13 out a 40 last year?"

Harry lowered his head and shrugged. "I just had a knack for a couple things, like DADA. And I always figured Hagrid had made me sort of a pet, that I got favoritism. And...and...I thought people were going easy on me because of the TriWizard Tournament--after all, I didn't have to take any final exams or anything," he said in a quiet, ashamed voice. "And I guess, because of Voldemort and the Golem, they're doing it again."

McGonagall gasped. "Harry Potter! Don't think for a second you were getting preferential treatment!"

Harry merely shrugged.

McGonagall sadly shook her head. "You know, you are one of the few students I have who stay after class and ask intelligent questions about what we've learned in class. I think only Hermione, and Miss Lovegood in fourth year, do that. And some of Miss Lovegood's questions are, well, somewhat odd. And I hear you have been doing the same with Professor Flitwick. He is most delighted in your interest."

Harry frowned. "I just wanted to know how transfiguration and charms could work in defense. Like transfiguring or charming materials for protection or for use as weapons."

McGonagall sighed. "Well, what about Potions. I know you and Professor Snape do not get on well. So, how do you explain your class ranking in his class?"

Harry looked up from under his brows. "Well, Parvati says that Potions is a lot like cooking. It's following recipes. But if you're going to be a good cook, you have to know what ingredients go with what other ingredients, what clashes with what flavors and what enhances them. You have to know how to tell something is fresh or not, everything about it, and all. She said it's the same thing with Potions. And I could always cook, so it finally began to make some sense."

McGonagall stared at Harry. After a quick shake of her head, she became thoughtful. "And what about History of Magic? I'm sure Professor Binns barely recalls V-Voldemort's first rise and isn't aware that he's back."

A look of shame passed over his face and Harry took a deep breath. "Well...we kind of cheat on that."

McGonagall gasped. "You cheat? Oh, Harry how could you?" she exclaimed, her heart suddenly breaking. "How do you cheat? And who's involved?"

Harry looked up at McGonagall with a stricken expression. "We don't mean to cheat, Professor. Honestly, Parvati and I try to be good. But whenever we have an assignment, she always seems to know which portrait has someone who knows something about the subject matter of the assignment. So we go and ask them about it. Their stories are usually so interesting that just writing out the assignments based on what they tell us is easy," he said in a pleading voice. "I mean, we read the texts, but sometimes they're wrong. Like the portrait of Sir Sidney Coke hanging in the stairwell between the second and third floors. He drafted the Treaty of Melk, and he was so excited and proud to talk to students about it that we learned all about the different people involved and how mad some of the purebloods were at having Continental Wizards force then to give up absolute power. You should have heard him describe the tantrum Ebenezer Malfoy threw after the treaty was signed," he said with a faraway smile, before his face fell again and he hung his head. "So the portraits are a lot more fun to talk to than just listening to Binns drone on in that boring class or reading some dumb book."

McGonagall closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before beginning to chuckle. Finally, she regained her composure. "Harry....that's not cheating," she said amid chuckles. "That's called original research. I never even thought about doing that when I was here. I don't think anyone has. I'm surprised you two didn't rank first and second in History knowing what you just told me."

Harry frowned. "Well, we sometimes get the dates wrong. Like we know that the First European Conference on Pureblood Rights happened the month before Lady Daphne on the fifth floor landing got married because she kept complaining about how she had to put off her wedding, but we forget the year. And sometimes Binns says we got something wrong because it wasn't what our History text says, even though the portraits insist that the textbook is wrong."

At this point, McGonagall nearly collapsed in gales of laughter. When she finally recovered, she looked at Harry, beaming. "Do you realize what you've just told me?"

Harry squirmed uncertainly and shook his head.

McGonagall gasped as she recovered. "It means that you're smarter than the people who wrote the texts. That you bothered to go to the source rather than simply copy questionable material from other books."

Harry looked down, puzzled. "I still don't think I'm that smart," he muttered.

McGonagall finally looked at Harry with sympathy. She reached across her desk and grasped his wrist. "Harry Potter, you are one of the smartest people I know. Just look how well you've done in all your classes. It used to be a struggle in my class to get you to turn in your assignments on time. Now they are returned promptly and, more often than not, accurately. How is that?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I used to drag myself to the library a lot, but that was boring. I always wanted to be somewhere else. Now, Parvati and I just sort of sit in a loveseat in the common room or at the study table leaning against each other while we read or write our assignments. It doesn't seem so bad and I usually don't feel like I want to be somewhere else."

McGonagall tilted her head and stared at Harry. "That explains Parvati," she said quietly.

Harry looked up and gave her a questioning look.

McGonagall sighed. "Mister Potter, I usually do not discuss other students' ranks. However, I was somewhat surprised to see Miss Patil's class rank rise from 21 to 9^th overall. It seems you have each had a good influence on the other. It's usually the other way around when students become enamoured of each other."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

Finally, she sighed. "One of the purposes for this meeting is also to get a sense of what each student would like to do once he or she graduates. What you would like to do when you grow up. Have you given it any thought, Harry?"

Harry blinked. He was surprised that his head of house was using his first name casually. Finally, he shrugged. "I don't know. With Voldemort out there, I guess I'll end up an Auror, if they'll have me."

McGonagall frowned. "Being an Auror is a noble calling, Harry. And with your talent and intelligence, you could end up an Unspeakable. But you don't seem convinced."

Harry pursed his lips in thought. Finally, he looked up at his head of house. "Before this year, I really wanted to be an Auror. I thought it would be exciting and glamorous. But I've met and talked to a lot of Aurors. Some of them are really nice. I like Moody, and Cyrus Jordan, and Parvati's brother, and Tonks, and they're cool. But I've also met others that were kind of dull, even dumb. And some of the stuff they have to do. Like I'd hate to be this really great, well-trained, powerful wizard and spend all my time running after kids who accidentally blow up their Aunt Marge."

McGonagall looked at him in confusion, then recalled Harry's incident of underage magic a couple summers before. She sighed. "Well, is there anything else you want to be?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I like Quidditch, but I don't know if I'd like to play professionally. Maybe I could do it. But I hear they train six days a week and are on the road like eight months out of the year. I like Quidditch, but that's not all I want to do all the time. I just love flying, though."

McGonagall nodded. "You have the talent, Harry. If you concentrated on it, I'm sure you could play Quidditch professionally. Is there anything else?"

Again, Harry squirmed. Finally, he looked up at McGonagall. "Well, it's awfully hard to explain. Maybe if I could describe it, you could tell me if there is such a thing."

McGonagall nodded for him to go ahead.

Harry took a deep breath. "Have you ever read a book called Catcher in the Rye?"

McGonagall blinked in surprise. "It's an American book. About an American Muggle public...an American boarding school. Yes, I read it many years ago. It's an occupational hazard, I suppose, having to read such books about boarding schools. Authors like Thomas Hughes, R.F. Delderfield, Salinger, and all that. Surely you don't see yourself as that boy in the book...Holden Caulfield?"

Harry frowned. "I read it over the summer. I was real interested in it, but I didn't always like the way Holden acted. He was kind of weird, but I could understand it, I guess. Do you remember where the title came from?"

McGonagall frowned, and finally shook her head. "It was many years ago..."

Harry sighed. "In the book, Holden had a dream. There were all these kids running wildly through a field of rye. There were many dangers in that field, and a big cliff. And it was his job to catch the children before they ran into trouble. He was a 'catcher in the rye'."

McGonagall blinked. "You want to be a teacher? A counselor?"

Harry frowned, a look of realization crossing his face. "Well, not exactly. I guess I could teach. But what I really want to do is be the person who catches magical children of Muggle parents, to help them avoid the dangers, to tell them it's all right, to show them that they aren't freaks, but very special people."

Harry paused and took a deep breath. "You know about me? About how I grew up?"

McGonagall suddenly looked at Harry, her eyes misting up. She nodded.

Harry pursed his lips in thought. "I hated my life. I hated being a freak. I hated being different, and not knowing why. Then Hagrid appeared in my life. He showed me I wasn't a freak. That I was special. That I was somebody. That's what I want to be ... I want to show the kids who were always thought of as freaks, as strange, that were treated as outcasts, that there is a place for them in the world, in our world. I want to teach them that they are special. I want to show them a wonderful world that will welcome them, that will accept them. That's what I want to be. I want to be somebody's Hagrid. I want to be a catcher in the rye."

* * *

Hermione sat fidgeting in Professor McGonagall's out office, waiting her turn. This was torture, she thought. She dreaded what she knew she would hear.

Suddenly, the door opened and a thoughtful Harry stepped out. He started for the outer door, when he paused, and turned to her. "She said she'd be a minute or two," he said with a forlorn look.

Hermione jumped up and grabbed Harry. "Was it bad? What happened? Oh, I can't take this!" she exclaimed.

Harry looked down at his fretting friend. "Just grades and career counseling. No big deal," he said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Hermione jumped back. "Oh, I knew it. I failed everything," she babbled. "I..." She suddenly stopped and gave Harry a worried look. "How did you do?"

Harry seemed preoccupied. "Okay. Sixth."

Hermione blinked, her mouth agape. "What?"

Harry shrugged. "Sixth in the class for the term. No big deal, I guess."

Hermione gasped. "But Harry, that's wonderful," she exclaimed.

Harry nodded. "I guess," he said quietly.

Then McGonagall's door opened. "Miss Granger, I'll see you now," she said and disappeared back into her office.

Hermione gave Harry one last look and entered.

Hermione was at once struck by how her head of house looked. McGonagall's eyes looked red and she seemed somewhat preoccupied.

As Hermione took a seat in front of the desk,. McGonagall suddenly seemed to shake herself and look more alert. "Ah, Miss Granger. I have something for you. I hope it isn't too bad news for you." She slid a piece of parchment for Hermione to read

GRANGER, HERMIONE JANE

Class ranking:

Fifth Year/First Term Report

Ancient Runes: 4/37

Arithmancy: 2/37

Astronomy: 4/37

Care of Magical Creatures: 1/37

Charms: 3/37

Defense Against Dark Arts: 2/37

Divination: NA

Herbology: 3/37

History of Magic: 3/37

Muggle Studies: NA

Potions: 2/37

Transfiguration: 2/37

Overall Class Rank: 2/37

Hermione blinked in surprise. She knew she had fretted about failing to no good purpose. But now she saw it in black and white and the realization hit her hard. She was not Number One in the class. For the first time since she was petrified for the better part of third term in her second year, she wasn't the best student. She felt her blood run cold. She slowly raised her eyes to McGonagall. "Who?" she whispered.

McGonagall sighed. "Padma Patil."

Hermione felt tears well up. Grades had never been important to her because they never needed to be. She was always at the top of her class in everything. Grades were simply a means of showing this self-evident fact. But not anymore.

But now she felt a hint of anger, too. First Parvati took Harry. Now Padma took her spot in academics. The two most important things in her life were stolen by the twins.

She looked back at the parchment. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes she could understand. Anthony Goldstein was a whiz in those courses. Herbology? She knew Neville was bright and loved the class, but could he have topped her? Or was it a couple of Professor Sprout's favorites like Hannah Abbott or Susan Bones? In Astronomy, she struggled at times with the maths, but still, she thought she would rank higher. But in Potions, Charms and Transfiguration, it had to be Padma.

She looked up again. "Who in History?"

McGonagall sighed. "Su Li and Padma."

Hermione closed her eyes to stop the tears.

"Hermione," McGonagall said softly. "Listen to me. You are one of the smartest people I've ever known. And probably the best student I've ever taught. I know how much importance you place on your class ranking. So I want you to understand something. Your end-of-term exams were outstanding. Based on them alone, you would probably rank first in your class."

Hermione looked up with blurred eyes.

McGonagall was nodding. "However, end-of-term exams are not the only things you are scored upon. You had a period of a few weeks at the beginning of the term where you were handing in work and testing at a level far below your standards. I would have called you in for a chat except that I heard what you were upset about in your personal life. And I didn't wish to compound you difficulties with some stuffy lecture from an old woman, because this old woman can remember when she was a young woman subject to all the emotional and personal turmoil you may have been experiencing."

Hermione continued to give McGonagall a baleful stare.

McGonagall took a deep breath. "I want you to listen to me. I fully expect you to return to your customary ranking by the end of the year. And I further expect you to gain all your OWLs and do so with distinction. What I do not expect you to do is to bury yourself in books in some frantic effort to catch up. You are a bright, attractive young woman who should be doing her best to enjoy life here at Hogwarts, to make friends, to experience all that this school has to offer. Maybe even to find a little romance."

Hermione gasped and blushed.

"Oh, stop that," McGonagall said with a smile. "I was young once myself. Now I want you to promise me something."

Hermione stared, then nodded.

McGonagall returned the nod. "If there is something troubling you, if you are having difficulties that you can't seem to work out, come to me. I will do my best to help you out. I may not have the answers you need, but I will help you in whatever way I can, even if it is only to lend you a shoulder to cry on."

Hermione blinked away a tear. "Harry...?" she whispered.

McGonagall gave her a sad look. "That is something you will have to work out on your own. But know that I can sympathize. I was in your position once, a long, long time ago. At the time, I felt like hexing the world and burying myself under a mound of books. And you know what?"

Hermione blinked again and shook her head.

McGonagall gave her a soft smile. "Somehow, by his sixth year, Sean saw the light. It took him long enough, thick-headed Scot that he was. We were married for 37 years."

Hermione suddenly no longer felt like her world was closing in on her. "Thank you, professor," she said in the tiniest of voices.

* * *

It was cold, and it wasn't getting any warmer. Harry hovered next to Angelina high above the Quidditch pitch as they watched the reserve team chasers, led by Ron, make another charge against the most of the starting team.

"Ron's still holding on to the Quaffle too long," Angelina observed. "But his command of the Quaffle is amazing. He seems to be making plays I wouldn't credit if I hadn't seen them myself."

But Harry was distracted. In the distance he saw a lone figure approaching the pitch. "Who's that?"

Angelina glanced over to where Harry was pointing. Then she nodded. "Mike Gillespie. I told he could come over at the end of practice."

Harry gave her a surprised look. "You invited the Hufflepuffs to spy on us?" he said with a laugh.

Angelina returned the laugh.

Suddenly, Harry felt a slap on the back of his head.

"Tag! You're it!!!" Ginny screamed over her shoulder as she sped off on her broom.

"Why you!!!" Harry exclaimed with a laugh and shot off after her.

Angelina blew her whistle. "Wrap it up," she called to the Gryffindor team and flew down to greet her Hufflepuff counterpart.

"Mike," she called out as she flew down to greet him.

Gillespie gave her an easy grin. "Did you mention it to them yet?"

She shook her head, swinging her bushy ponytail. "Thought I'd let you."

Gillespie nodded, then looked out at the pitch as the Gryffindors started to land around them. He gestured above. "What are those two doing."

Angelina glanced back over her shoulder. "Oh, that's Harry and Ginny playing tag."

Gillespie started chuckling. "Tag?"

Angelina laughed. "Haven't you ever played snatch the scarf?"

Gillespie shrugged. "Sure. Everybody starts with a scarf tucked into their waistbands. The one who can snatch the most scarves wins. Usually ends up in a mid-air scrum."

Angelina nodded. "Well, they're playing one-on-one snatch the scarf."

Gillespie watched Harry and Ginny in the distance and suddenly smiled.

"Spying for Slytherin, Mike?" Alicia said with a laugh.

Gillespie suddenly returned to the Earth-bound Gryffindors. "Quite the contrary," he said with a laugh. "We're playing them next month. Malfoy and I have a date in February," he said, glancing back at Harry and Ginny, still playing in the sky. "Could be interesting," he said thoughtfully.

Angelina smiled. "Mike's got a proposition for us."

He turned back and nodded. "That's right. Look, Gryffindor has a full reserve team, and so do we. We thought it might be fun, and good practice, for our reserves to challenge your reserves to a practice match."

Ron snorted, but Katie and Alicia both poked him to keep him quiet.

"I'm game," Severino Velazquez, the left reserve chaser piped in.

"Me, too!" Regina Bowen, the right chaser exclaimed.

Ron frowned, then shrugged. "I guess. It might be fun. And we'll fly your knickers off," he said with a sudden laugh.

Fred and George suddenly jostled Ron out of the way. "No knickers?!? Is Hannah on the team!?!" they exclaimed. "We'll be there for that!!!"

Amid squeals of mirth and mock outrage, the girls on the team pounced on the Weasleys, wrestling them to the ground.

Gillespie laughed, but then looked thoughtful again, just as Harry and Ginny finally landed.

* * *

"Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville carefully watched his timer. "21, 22, 23, 24, 25..." he whispered to himself, then quickly took the flask off of the burner and tapped it twice with his wand and muttered 'Subsidere.' Then he placed it in front of him and nodded once.

"Mr. Longbottom!"

Neville jolted upright and jerked his head to the left to see Professor Snape peering at him evilly from the aisle one row forward of where he was sitting. "Woolgathering, Mr. Longbottom? How many ..."

But an anxious Neville shook his head rapidly. "No, Professor. You said at the beginning of the year that it's dangerous to let our attention wander from the potion we're brewing. I was concentrating on getting it right," he blurted out to snickering from the Slytherin side of the room.

Snape chuckled softly with a smug expression and began crossing to front of the classroom to make his way to Neville's spot. "Now class. Your completed potions should be nearly translucent white in color and thin in consistency. And yours, Mr. Longbottom?" he said with a sneer.

Neville raised his flask, his hand shaking and a terrified look on his face. "Like this, Professor?"

Snape looked down at the flask, his face losing its animation. Then he frowned and grabbed the flask roughly out of Neville's hand and brought it up to his nose. He took a couple sniffs and then glared down at Neville. "Looks can be deceiving," he muttered. "I shall be very careful in testing this after class before grading," he growled, stoppering the flask and bringing it up to his desk in front as the other students began placing their potions on the grading tray alongside Neville's.

Snape checked his watch. There still were fifteen minutes left in the class. "So that is the basic bone-setting potion. Tell me, why did we not use any ground dragon bone in this potion....Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco looked up. "Powdered dragon bone can be toxic if more than two grams are used at a time."

Snape nodded. "Quite right, Mr. Malfoy." He then stared at the Slytherin, expecting more. Malfoy, however, looked up and seemed startled that perhaps more was expected. He gave the subtlest of shrugs and Snape nodded. "Five points for Slytherin." Snape then glanced around the room. "Mr. Potter, you seem to be the class know-it-all recently. Can you tell us why you shouldn't use more than two grams of ground dragon bone in any one potion?"

Harry frowned. He had read this with Parvati last week. "Well...dragons have very strong, but very light bones. So their bones concentrate calcium and draw it from the rest of the dragon's body. But in humans, dragon bone tends to leach calcium from other parts of the body into the bones. So if you use too much, your bones get stronger but you lose calcium from the rest of your organs. So too much dragon bone in a potion would harm those organs and maybe kill you."

Snape gave an annoyed growl. Then he paused in thought. "Well, Mr. Potter. What if you had a severely broken leg? What would happen if we simply opened up the leg and applied the crushed dragon bone directly to the break?"

Harry stared. This was not in the text or in the reference materials that were assigned. "Well, uh..." he stuttered, thinking furiously.

"Come, come Potter. We haven't all day."

Harry blinked. "Uh...well, powdered dragon bone leaches calcium from the rest of the body..."

Snape smirked. "Yes, I believe we have covered that already."

Harry continued to think furiously. "So if it leaches calcium from the rest of the body...then it stands to reason that if you applied it to the break in a bone..." has ambled, pausing for time. "...it would leach calcium from the surrounding untreated bone while strengthening the area around the break," he said with a sudden rush. "So the area around the break would heal and be strong, but the rest of the untreated bone in the leg would end up weaker and possibly be easily broken."

Snape stared at Harry in shock. That was right. It was absolutely spot on. This wasn't something taught in potions, but in advanced mediwizardry. Yet Potter had figured it out.

Suddenly, Hermione burst out in frustration. "That's not in our books, Professor. Is that right?"

Snape was slowly regaining his composure. He gave a curt nod. "That just proves the point that even a stopped clock is correct twice a day," he said with a smirk. "Oh, and Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up again from her text.

"Your unsolicited outburst just cost Gryffindor whatever points I would have so generously awarded Mr. Potter for his lucky guess."

Hermione turned red in embarrassment and annoyance.

Then Snape turned back to Harry with a speculative look. He had been ordered by the Headmaster to instruct Potter in Occlumency. However, Snape had for the previous three weeks been able to avoid this unpleasant duty. But Albus had mentioned he had given Potter some introductory reading on Occlumency and Legilimency. The Potter boy couldn't have come up with his answer on his own, could he? He wasn't that bright. Could the boy have actually used a rough form of Legilimency to come up with the answer? Snape thought.

Slowly and unobtrusively, as he and an annoyed Harry stared at each other, Snape brought up his wand to his chest and whispered under his breath: "Legilimens."

Harry suddenly felt a dizzying sensation, like his thoughts were being shuffled like a deck of cards. He felt queasy and, as he continued to stare at Snape, he knew the Potions Master was doing something to him.

And Harry became even more angry. He tried to control his thoughts as Snape slowly lowered his head to peer under beetled brows at his subject, causing his greasy hair to fall over his eyes.

Harry suddenly got a queer notion. Looking at Snape's long hair falling forward, he suddenly saw Snape using the same type of look and the same pose as was used by Darren Dare of Dark Secrets, bare-chested in his open, sequined robe while at the Yule Ball. And Harry began to imagine Snape, his pale, skinny chest barely covered by a ridiculous sequined robe, suddenly prancing about the classroom trying to look sexy while singing 'Honky Tonk Witches.'

Snape suddenly gasped and recoiled as if struck, causing an already restive class to jump. "How dare you!" Snape yelled. "How dare you!!! That's detention Potter! I'll see you scrubbing classrooms for the rest of the term for that!"

Harry's smirk suddenly turned to fury. "For what? I didn't say anything...do anything! Anything at all!" he shouted.

The class was now in an uproar, with gasps coming from some disconcerted Slytherins and shouts of outrage coming from the Gryffindors.

"Class dismissed," Snape shouted over the uproar.

"He didn't do anything!" Ron shouted. "Why is he getting detention?"

"That's not fair!" Hermione cried.

Parvati, who was already out of sorts, was standing up now, tears of fury in her eyes as she tried to say something, anything, to defend her boyfriend.

Finally, Harry slowly rose, continuing to stare in fury at Snape. "No," he said in a firm voice.

"What do you mean, 'No'?" a furious Snape shouted.

"I am not doing detention."

Snape was nearly apoplectic. "Then you're expelled. Get out!!"

Harry simply leaned over and packed his potions kit and collected his books. "I'm going to Dumbledore," he said with a final glance at Snape.

* * *

"...he had me prancing around like some half-naked peacock, screaming about whores," a still angry Snape cried, casting a furious glance at Harry, who stood several feet away across from the Headmaster.

Professor Dumbledore closed his eyes in exasperation. He felt the waves of cold coming off Harry, who was standing stock still, but clearly fuming about the incident. Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Severus, you know that performing Legilimency on an unwilling subject without authorization is a criminal offense. And yet you did so. And you did so in front of a class full of students who did not know what was going on. And you did so to someone who did not understand what you were doing, or what the implications of the spell were."

Snape bristled. "He managed to come up with a correct answer to a question most university-trained mediwizards and witches would be hard-pressed to answer. It was Potter who was using Legilimency first! It must have been!"

Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Is that true?"

Harry blinked in astonishment. "What are you talking about? I don't know how to read minds. The answer just seemed to make sense. If it was so hard, why was he asking it, anyway? To take points off Gryffindor by asking unfair questions?"

Even Snape was beginning to feel the chill of Harry's anger.

The Headmaster rubbed his eyes under his glasses and sighed. Finally, he looked up at the two rivals and cocked his head. "There will be no detention."

Snape's face now became livid.

Dumbledore gave the Potions Master a stern look. "No one will be punished for their thoughts. Particularly thoughts that are not acted upon or communicated."

Then he turned to Harry. "However, a certain modicum of order must be maintained at this school. Harry, I told you that you would learn the art of Occlumency from Professor Snape. This is a skill you must master. It is not something you need for your OWLs. It is something you need for your life, your sanity. So I am going to ask you to spend an hour each Monday after supper with Professor Snape for the foreseeable future to learn this art. I do not want you say anything about why you are doing so. If people wish to see it as your detention, that is something you will have to live with."

Harry simply closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration and anger.

Dumbledore turned to Snape. "I wish to hear no more about this, or hear of the use of any spells of this sort again," he said firmly.

Snape's complexion had now gone from florid to ghostly pale.

Dumbledore sighed. "We are all allies in this battle. It would be better if all allies were also friends. Alas, that cannot always be the case. However, I expect in the future that you attempt to put whatever disagreements you have to the side at least while working on this project," he said in a calm, measured voice.

Neither Harry nor Snape said a word. But both gave small nods.

* * *

Parvati leaned back on her pillows, depressed and out of sorts. She was still furious over Snape's treatment of Harry. Now Harry told her that he would be spending a part of his Monday evenings in the dungeons with that greasy bastard in punishment for what? For just being Harry?

It was bad enough that that Harry had to spend an evening a week with special Defense tutoring with Professor Moody. And Wednesday afternoons at prefect meetings. Then there were Quidditch practices, and the occasional prefect patrols. And, now that he had split the defense tutoring of the lower class students into groups by years, she was rarely with him during the D.A.D.A. meetings as he wandered from group to group, helping the core of the group demonstrate and teach spells, hexes and shields to the younger students.

And now Monday evenings were being spoilt by that greasy git. When would she ever see him? Parvati sighed and leaned back more deeply into her pillows.

She was startled as a magazine landed on the bed next to her. "The curse?" Lavender said with a solicitous look.

Parvati sighed and looked at her friend. "In a couple days," Parvati said quietly.

Lavender nodded. "Well, check out some of the looks in that magazine. Maybe we can have some fun making ourselves up for Hogsmeade. Get all glamorized for the boys tonight," she said with a grin.

Parvati brightened a little. She and Lavender had been poring over the Muggle women's magazines that Harry had secretly given to Lavender earlier in the term. Harry had also given Parvati a new assortment of women's magazines full of interesting things at Christmas.

Parvati reached over a grabbed the magazine and began paging through it, looking at the adverts as much as the articles. Maybe that's what she should do. Try a new look to get her out of her funk.

As she casually turned the page, her eye was caught by a model. The model had a slightly darker complexion than some of the others. Parvati sat up as her attention was caught. 'Wow, that is really different,' she thought. 'And so exotic.'

"Lavender, I want to try this!" she exclaimed.

Lavender walked over and sat down on Parvati's bed and took the magazine. Her eyes widened a bit. "Are you sure?" she asked, frowning.

Parvati's eyes were suddenly alight. "This is wonderful! And so different! Harry will love it!"

Lavender looked at her friend uncertainly. "I don't know..."

* * *

The common room was in its typical chaotic state on the first Hogsmeade weekend of the new year. It was Friday evening and most of the residents eligible to go to Hogsmeade were in the midst of planning the adventures to come as they waited for the appointed time when the first carriages would begin showing up. Normally, many would opt to take the half-hour walk into the village, but it had been snowing for several days before the weekend began and not many were willing to brave the icy road and the high snow banks.

So, instead of people leaving in twos and threes and small groups, the common room was crowded with excited students, and some sulky first and second years who had yet to experience the delights of Honeydukes, the fun of Zonko's Joke Shop and the companionable frenzy of the Three Broomsticks.

A few of the boys were not as frenzied. In one corner, Harry, Seamus and Neville were sitting calmly and patiently waiting for Parvati, Lavender and Moira to make their appearances. Ron and Dean were also hanging out with their roommates, figuring to tag along and maybe split off together if things got to mushy among the couples.

Harry leaned back, finally enjoying the new clothes that Parvati forced him to buy. Somehow, he had gotten so used to Dudley's castoffs that well fitting and stylish clothing seemed foreign to him for the first couple months after he'd bought them. But now they felt as much a part of him as his Quidditch uniform. Even th Paddock boots with the riding heels felt good. He had finally shed the old skin of his previous life and was beginning to enjoy himself.

He turned casually to his friends. "So Dean. No Ginny tonight?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

Dean gave Harry a similar smile. "Well, if I can manage to lose the Red Rascal here, I'll probably meet her at our usual shagging spot."

Ron turned several shades of red. "Awww, cut it out, you guys," he whined, giving Dean a playful punch. "That's my sister you're talking about."

Harry laughed. Dean and Ginny had had fun together at the Yule Ball, but that was as far as it went. Dean had restless for the past couple months as his roommates had paired off with girls, but he had not found anyone to his liking. Harry had asked him about it just before the break. Dean had been uncomfortable, even though Harry had tried to convince him that there was no social stigma about interracial dating or marriage as there was in the Muggle world. But Dean had been raised in the Muggle world and still retained many of the old fears and prejudices. Harry shrugged. 'I guess I do, too,' he thought. Parvati was helping him with that, though.

Harry sighed. "Hey, Ron. What about Hermione? Why don't you drag her out of the library for some fun for a change?"

Ron frowned. "I don't know. She said she didn't want to go out tonight. Maybe tomorrow, she said."

Now it was Harry's turn to frown. His sorrow and heartbreak over Hermione's reaction to his dating Parvati was beginning to turn to annoyance. Harry still cared about Hermione and he guessed he always would. But she had gone into a prolonged sulk. And if that wasn't bad enough, she had dragged Ron down with her. Ron, being the loyal friend that he was, had appointed himself as Hermione's confidant and guardian, and was constantly with her when she needed him. And now, she had taken to hovering constantly around Harry, often ignoring Ron in the process.

Harry had seen her take Ron for granted as she had taken him for granted. And Harry was upset that she had shown Ron little if any interest beyond his companionship. Harry had told Ron during the summer that it would be okay if they become a couple, even though Harry desperately wanted Hermione as a girlfriend. Now that Harry and Parvati were a couple, he desperately wished that Ron and Hermione would become a real couple, rather than a pair of satellites constantly revolving around each other from a distance. He knew Ron needed the comfort of having someone there for him and that Hermione desperately needed someone to get her to come to life again. If worse came to worse, he would consult with Parvati about setting Ron up with someone else. He hated to see his best friend so lonely. But he would hate to see Hermione hurt. He didn't know what to do.

Finally, word came that the carriages were ready and many of the students started to leave the common room. Moira, not one to play girl games, making their nervous boyfriends wait for them, was the first of the girls out of the dorms. She ran to Neville and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, causing him to flush pleasurably, and they were off. Suddenly, Hermione came through the common room door and plopped down in a chair next to Ron.

Nodding at Harry, Seamus and Dean, she turned to Ron. "I give up," she said pouting. "I just can't look at another history text. You want to go to Hogsmeade?"

Ron smiled broadly. "Sure."

Hermione nodded. "Give me a chance to decompress and I'll go change."

Hermione was about to get up when Parvati and Lavender appeared. Lavender had an odd expression on her face. Then Harry turned to look up at Parvati and was shocked. Parvati had painted her eyelids black and had a pair of black streaks painted on the side of her face as if they were extensions of her lashes. Harry blanched at the sight.

Parvati smiled at Harry. "What do you think? It's an Egyptian look. Isn't it wonderful?"

Harry simply stared. He could hear Seamus and Dean giggle off to the side and he could see Hermione's shoulders shaking in mirth. "Raccoon," Seamus said under his breath.

"Harry?" Parvati asked, suddenly looking upset. "I asked you what you think," she said in a hesitant voice.

Harry looked up at Parvati, now clearly upset. He knew a good boyfriend was supposed to say his girl looked nice no matter what. But he couldn't. "I...I...Oh, Parvati, what have you done?"

Parvati's eyes went wide. "You don't like it," she snarled. "I...I went through all this trouble just for you and you don't like it...You...You..." She turned on her heels and raced upstairs.

Lavender looked up after Parvati and turned, giving Harry a shake of her head. "Harry, you should know better," she said quietly.

But Harry was already out of his chair, racing after Parvati.

Lavender had just enough time to utter the countercharm against boys entering the girls' dorms before Harry was past her, taking the stairs three at a time. She shook her head sadly, then looked up to see most the boys in the common room staring at her in shock, while a few other simply nodded knowingly. Lavender sunk down in her seat in embarrassment at revealing the girls' big secret.

The group in the common room was suddenly distracted as they heard the door to the fifth year girl's bedroom slam from three levels away and heard Harry shout after Parvati.

Hermione turned to Ron with an unfathomable look. "Well, maybe I won't change. Good thing I have my heavy robe down here," she said lightly, grabbing Ron and dragging him out of the common room. After a quick exchange, Seamus and Lavender decided to stay behind for a few minutes more in case Harry or Parvati needed someone to talk to. But after 15 minutes, they, too, left for Hogsmeade.

* * *

Harry was still a few steps away when he heard the door slam. He turned the corner and tried the door to the fifth year girls' dorm, but Parvati had already cast a locking charm. He pounded on the door. "Parvati! Let me in," he cried, but there was no response. After knocking several more times and asking to be let in without a reply, he stepped back. The door was too heavy to break down. And the locking charm in the girls' dorms usually was unbreakable to an ordinary unlocking spell. Still, he had to give it a try.

Harry took a deep breath and focused all his concentration on the door. "Alohamora," he said forcefully. Suddenly, he heard a rusty squeak of metal on metal and then he heard a click and the door swung open. He didn't have time to be puzzled at the success of his spell. He dashed through the door.

He was immediately hit with a mild hex, which stung his arm. "Get out of here!" Parvati screamed, pointing her wand at him. "You're not allowed in here! Get out!"

Harry strode toward Parvati, and managed to dodge another hex before doing a gentle Expelliarmus spell that yanked her wand out of her hand. He caught it in midstride as Parvati flopped in her bed and turned away from him.

Harry reached her bed and stopped, taking a deep breath. He sat on her bed next to where she was lying. "Parvati, I'm sorry," he cried softly. "Please, we've got to talk."

Parvati moved to the far edge of the bed. "We've got nothing to talk about. You don't belong here. Get out."

Harry reached over and grabbed Parvati's shoulder, rolling her so she was facing him. He tried to sound calm, but his voice was cracking with upset and emotion. "We are going to talk. You're not going to run away from me and hide like...like Hermione did."

Parvati, her makeup now streaked by tears, blinked a couple times, her eyes wide. "I'm...I'm not Hermione," she said angrily.

"Then stop acting like her," Harry said forcefully.

Parvati looked up at Harry in shock. "But...you hate the way I look. You embarrassed me the way you reacted in front of everyone," she said in a weeping voice.

Harry looked at the weeping girl, his tone softening. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I just didn't expect...I don't know."

"You hated it. You hate me," she said irrationally.

Harry shook his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Parvati was now weeping freely. "I spent all that time trying to look different, to look exotic for you...and you...and you..." and she collapsed in tears.

Harry looked down at the weeping girl. He was still grasping her shoulders lightly to keep her from turning away from him. "I don't hate you...I love you," he said quietly. He tried to draw her into a reassuring hug, but she quickly turned away from him again.

He gently lay down next to her and began stroking her hair. "Parvati...you know I would never lie to you," he said reassuringly. "I guess that is good...but it's also bad at times like these."

She continued to whimper. Harry leaned and placed his cheek against her braid. "I'm sorry I'm such a troll. I rely on you to set me straight when I mess up."

She still wouldn't face him, but her whimpering had ceased and she was now breathing heavily.

"I know you went to a lot of trouble for me, and I'm sorry I didn't appreciate it."

"You should be," she muttered softly.

Harry sighed. They had had a few fights before. But nothing as silly or inconsequential as this. At least not as silly or inconsequential to him. He couldn't figure out why Parvati was acting this way. Still, he had to try. He loved her.

He nuzzled her braid again. "You know you don't have to go to great lengths to impress me...I have to catch my breath every time I see you...you know that."

Parvati made a noncommittal grunt.

Harry rolled his eyes in frustration, trying to think of what to say. Finally, he gently grabbed her shoulder and forced her to turn so she was looking at him. "Parvati. What were you wearing...what makeup did you have on when I fell in love with you?" he asked softly.

She looked at him, blinking. "I don't know...when was that?"

Harry looked at her intently. "Those three nights we spent talking in the common room just before...just before Voldemort."

For the first time, Parvati gave Harry a small smile. "I was in my pajamas and dressing gown."

Harry nodded. "And what makeup were you wearing?" he said quietly.

Parvati gave him a fond smile. "Well, maybe some moisturizer and some hand lotion," she said shyly.

Harry nodded. "And you were still the prettiest girl I'd ever seen."

Parvati reached up and stroked Harry's face. "You're awfully sweet for a troll, you know."

Harry smiled and nodded. "You've always been the prettiest girl I've ever seen. I fell in love with you because I realized how wonderful you were. Being so beautiful was just the icing on the cake," he said with an smile.

Parvati gave a soft chuckle. "You're also quite perceptive...for a troll, that is."

Harry sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to go to great lengths to please me. Just be who you are. Just be the wonderful person I fell in love with."

Parvati reached her hand up behind the back of Harry's neck and pulled him down to her. The first kiss was soft and loving. The ones after that had a different intent.

* * *

Hermione was in high spirits, if still a little distant, at Hogsmeade. Ron seemed to sense she had relaxed a little, although Hermione rarely seemed fully relaxed. Still, Ron was in better spirits with her than he'd been for a while. 'Maybe, just maybe, she's finally coming out of her funk,' he thought.

Hermione's mind, however, was not on Ron. It was back in Gryffindor Tower. She tried not to get her hopes up, but she had seen Parvati in rages against past boyfriends and now it was Harry's turn. Maybe he'd finally see that she wasn't the right girl for him and break it off and come home...home to Hermione.

Harry and Parvati had not shown up at any of the places they'd visited and a few people had asked Ron and Hermione if they'd seen them. The two just shrugged. Hermione imagined that Harry was probably in his bed, heartbroken over breaking up, and Parvati, without Lavender there to perk her up, was probably doing the same. Lavender, for her part, was enjoying herself with Seamus. When Seamus wasn't mooning over Lavender, he was probably one of the funniest of the Gryffindors, telling endless jokes and stories. However, Hermione noticed that, from time to time during the evening, a cloud would pass over Lavender's features as she looked toward the door or around the room of the Three Broomsticks in search of Harry and Parvati.

Finally, Hermione couldn't wait any longer. "Ron, I think we should be getting back," she said in a tone slightly less bossy than Ron was used to.

He looked at her. "But there's still another half hour before we usually leave. Come on, stay another half hour."

Hermione shook her head. "I've got to be up early tomorrow. There's a lot I need to do. You can stay if you'd like. But I'm tired and I think it's time for me to go."

Ron shrugged. "Okay...let's go."

* * *

A few students were already drifting in to the common room when Ron and Hermione arrived. Hermione saw no signs of Harry or Parvati and figured she'd just go up to bed to see what kind of shape Parvati was in. If there had been a breakup, Hermione told herself she would be the first one in the common the next morning to wait for Harry to console him. Hermione turned to Ron. "Thanks, Ron," she said and gave his arm a little squeeze. She then headed up to the girls' dorm.

The bedroom was dark, so Hermione flicked her wand to light a candle to give her enough illumination to maneuver. She glanced over at Parvati's bed. Parvati was sleeping, curled up facing her. The blanket had fallen a little, showing Parvati's bare shoulder. Hermione raised her eyebrows. Parvati usually wore her flannel pajamas during the winter to fend off the cold rather than her nightie. Hermione shook her head and was about to glance away when Parvati shifted and an arm suddenly appeared over Parvati's shoulder.

Hermione's eyes went wide with alarm. She quietly crept over to Parvati's bed, which was closest to the far wall. There was Harry, spooned up against Parvati's back under the blanket. Harry's head moved a couple times as he tried in his sleep to find a comfortable place to put his face up against the back of Parvati's head without leaning it against the base of her braid. When he finally seemed to get comfortable, she could see his bare shoulder as he draped his arm around Parvati's waist over the heavy comforter. He then began reaching out blindly in his sleep two or three times before finding the edge of the comforter and pulling it up over them.

Hermione felt light headed. She kept staring at the couple, so peacefully entwined. 'He really is in love with her,' she thought miserably. 'And they seem so beautiful, sleeping together like that.'

She closed her eyes for a few seconds to regain her composure, and quietly made her way back to the common room.

* * *

Despite the activity of people coming in from Hogsmeade, Hermione was lost and alone in her thoughts. Those thoughts were disturbed briefly when Ron came in from the outside corridor and sat down next to her. "Where's Harry?" he asked urgently. "He's not in his bed and I've looked all over for him."

Hermione gave Ron a blank look. "He's up there with Parvati," she said distantly, pointing up to the girls' dorms. "They're asleep and I didn't want to disturb them."

Ron's eyes went very wide. "You mean...they're...?"

Hermione nodded.

Ron leaned back, blowing out a deep breath. "I kinda thought so, but Harry wouldn't tell me," he said wonderingly.

Hermione turned to Ron. "Don't say anything to anyone else...I don't think it's any business but theirs," she said quietly.

Ron blinked a couple times. "Ahhh...but what about you? You aren't going to stay down here all night, are you?"

Hermione looked down at her lap. "No. When Lavender gets back, she'll wake them up. I just didn't think I should be the one to do it," she said in a small voice.

Ron gave her a sympathetic look. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Thanks anyway, Ron. Why don't you just go to bed."

Ron nodded. He sat there thoughtfully for another two or three minutes and then, with a glance toward Hermione, he took a deep breath and finally got up and left.

* * *

Hermione sat and stared at the fire. 'So that's what love is,' she thought sadly.

Hermione's views on love had been shaped by the novels of Jane Austin and the Bronte sisters. Love was some mysterious force that was always kept at a genteel distance, the stuff of drawing room civility. And when someone broke this calm pattern of quiet longing and ultimate happy but genteel resolution--someone like Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights--she was disturbed and disconcerted.

Her parents had a loving but undemonstrative relationship and she had never took an interest in contemporary films and novels on the topic. Her mother had sat her down for 'the talk,' which left her curious but a little nonplussed. She decided, after much disturbing reading of popular literature, that when the time came, she would be with someone she trusted and they would learn the wonders and mysteries of love together.

But what she had just seen was so intimate, so beautiful, and yet, to her, so painful to deal with, that it had shifted her life. She realized that love was not some bloodless, circumspect affair. It wasn't just walking together holding hands or studying side-by-side.

It was sharing of oneself, of opening up one's feelings. It was not carefully sheltered trips to the library, but picnics where nothing was choreographed ahead of time and there was no safety net for her emotions--only the trust of the person she was with to catch her if she took that emotional leap she feared to try. Now she began to realize what love was. It was the meeting of two people, body and soul. And it called for the dropping of one's defenses, something she had always felt loathe to do.

Why did she hate the thought? Why was she afraid of flying? Why was she afraid of heights? Because she was afraid no one would be there to catch her. And baring her emotions, her soul, was the most dangerous, fearful leap of all.

And now she realized how badly she had hurt Harry in the library. And how her pride and self-consciousness had cost her a chance to win his love, and had nearly cost her their friendship. He longed to fly free. And she insisted on staying Earth-bound.

She closed her eyes at the thought that maybe she didn't have all the answers, or access to all the answers in her books. That the key to happiness, to life, could not be found in Hogwarts: A History. And that she would do well to try, at least, to start living outside the classroom and the library. Maybe it was too late for Harry now. Maybe not. She desperately hoped not. But, she vowed, it would not be too late for Hermione.

* * *