Hogsmeade Battle Royale

Harry awoke the next morning not to the sight of Ron in his bed, but instead to Seamus Finnigan methodically poking him in his side, much to his displeasure. He groaned, and tried to roll away from Seamus's persistent finger, but a searing pain in his forehead erupted, and his hand flew up to his burning scar.

"It's about time y' got up, Harry," Seamus said sunnily. "If you slept any more, you'd be missing the Hogsmeade trip!"

Harry blinked as the blurry image of Seamus Finnigan's head peered into the bed. "Where's Ron?" he asked, reaching over to search for his glasses. The pain from his scar had subsided as he began to grow more alert; did this have anything to do with what he saw in Divination class yesterday? Was something wrong? Was Voldemort nearby? Now he was truly worried about Ron's whereabouts.

"Dean and Neville are already down at the carriages," Seamus replied. "And Ron's in the showers. Now come on!" he said energetically, beaming. "It's the last holiday of the year. You wouldn't want to sleep through it, do you?"

Upon hearing that Ron was in the shower, Harry's spirits perked up immediately - among other things - and before Seamus could utter another word out of his mouth, Harry was out of bed and half-way to the bathrooms.

---

"Now, Hermione told us to meet her at the first carriage," Ron informed Harry, once their fruitful shower was over and both were clothed and ready to depart for Hogsmeade. "If only I knew where the first carriage was..." Downstairs at Hogwart's black iron gates, Harry squinted and shielded his eyes from the bright May sun, scanning the bubbling crowd for Hermione. His scar no longer hurt, and he nearly forgot about the incident entirely, considering that Ron had given him quite enough to think about in the showers instead. Twice.

"There!" Finally, Harry spied the bushy-haired girl in the crowd, waving her hands in the air beside a rather shabby-looking coach. Hermione had magically enlarged her "Head Girl" badge the night before - "So that any lowerclassmen who need assistance can find me easily for help," she claimed - and it now the tiny pin was as big as her hand, shining bright and large in the sun. Harry took a hold of Ron's hand - for Ron was rummaging through his bookbag and not paying any attention to Harry - and made a beeline for the first carriage.

When they arrived, Hermione looked slightly annoyed, but excited to say the least. "It was about time you two got down here," she scolded, though she had a hint of a smile on her lips. Harry grinned, because he knew that Hermione probably guessed by now why he and Ron were so late. "I was almost believing that you weren't even coming, and that you dragged me along for absolutely nothing."

"Oh, come now, Hermione," Harry goaded coyly. "We know that you and Viktor would have found something to do without us two in the way."

"She might still," Ron said with a wink.

"You two," Hermione huffed, yet a smile peeking at the sides of her mouth gave away her amusement, "are both insufferable perverts." Hermione looked up to the sky and asked loudly, "Honestly, why do I put up with all these teenage boys?"

"Because you know you love us," Ron answered slyly. "And because we're just so damn alluring."

Hermione smirked, and tried to keep a stern face to no avail. "Just get in the carriage, Weasley," she commanded. Ron, mocking, saluted her. "Viktor and I will be waiting."

"Guess we'd better get on then, right, Harry?" Harry nodded, and took Ron's hand again, more lovingly this time, as the two approached the entrance to the carriage. The old coach looked like it was on its last legs; if, that as it was, the carriage had legs to speak of. Its once bright and vibrant violet paint was chipping from many weathered trips to and from Hogsmeade, and its wooden exterior had the names of endless young wizards and witches before Harry and Ron etched into the grain. Harry smiled at one particular old engraving, which declared "Sirius & Remus" inside a large, misshapen heart.

Before the two could get onto the carriage, a very nervous and haggard-looking Professor Sanglant bustled towards them. His spectacles were nearly falling off of his nose, and both of his arms were laden with textbooks. "Professor!" Harry said. "Are you coming along on the holiday, too?" It was a rare occurrence when a teacher at Hogwarts joined the students for a trip to Hogsmeade, or to anywhere, for that matter. The only other time that a Professor traveled with the children was when Professor Lupin, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in Harry's 3rd year, arrived at Hogwarts aboard the Hogwarts Express.

"Only for one night, boys," the professor said. "I just need to pick up a few items from the Apothecary." Sanglant then stepped up on the carriage's first step, carefully balancing the stack of books at each slight movement.

Just then, a horde of fourth-year girls squealed behind them. The girls quickly approached the first carriage, shouting "Professor Sanglant! Professor Sanglant!" to the harried professor.

Sanglant took a deep breath, and said in a friendly voice, "Girls...is there anything wrong?"

The girls giggled, and one of them - Laura Madley, a Hufflepuff - spoke up. "Well, we see you're going on the Hogsmeade trip," she began excitedly. "And, um..." She then seemed to burst with joy. "We'd love to be in your carriage!" The rest of the girls tittered behind her, as Professor Sanglant smiled kindly.

"Of course, girls. That would be all right." An eruption of squeals came from the young teenage girls, and they immediately began to board the first carriage, edging the young professor in as well. Ron and Harry, who watched Sanglant board the carriage along with his fan club, noticed that Ginny Weasley was also in their little group, and bounded cheerfully along after Professor Sanglant.

"Well," Ron pointed out, "At least she's not following you around anymore." He gave Harry a small nudge, which made Harry grin brightly. He answered the redhead with a soft peck on the lips, and began to take the few steps aboard the carriage. Just at that moment, however, someone who had been following Harry as long as Ginny Weasley had - and has been ever since - arrived at the first coach, pushing his way through a band of fifth year Ravenclaws.

"Hiya, Harry!" came the high voice of sixth-year Colin Creevey, Harry's self-proclaimed "number one fan." Colin had followed Harry around ever since second year, and when Colin's younger brother Dennis came into Hogwarts in fourth year, it merely doubled the Creevey annoyance. And, in no time, Dennis Creevey followed suit, having to push through the crowd a little harder than his older and taller brother. Both brothers had identical bright grins upon seeing Harry, and Colin had in hand his Muggle camera, a newer model than his last, which had been incinerated by a basilisk a few years ago.

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned. "Hullo, Colin," he said dully. Ron's face looked quite unhappy. "And hello, Dennis."

Colin smiled brightly. "So you're going on the trip then, eh, Harry?" he asked. Harry gave a weak smile and nodded. "I just can't wait till we get to Hogsmeade; I'd like to try out my new camera!" He displayed the camera to Harry and Ron, who seemed less than interested. "It's brand new, and although I can't get the pictures to move - stupid Muggle technology - they develop right away, right after I've taken them!" He held up the camera to his face. "Can I take a picture of you, Harry? Please?"

Harry grimaced. "Maybe later, Colin," was all he would reply.

Dennis took a quick look at the first carriage. "C'mon, Colin," he said, grabbing hold of his brother's forearm. "You can take pictures of Harry when we're on the coach. It'll add to your collection!"

Colin's face burned a bright red, and as Dennis pulled him away from Ron and Harry, he called after them, "I'll see you on the carriage, Harry!", and disappeared up onto the steps.

"Please," Harry groaned painfully. "Please, tell me we're taking a different coach."

"And have Hermione mad at us for deserting her?" Ron shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, love, but you're going to have to get on this carriage."

"I guess it'll be fine," he said with a smile. "as long as I'm with you." So, with one last heated kiss between the two lovers, Harry broke away and stepped up into the old coach.

---

Draco Malfoy swaggered over to the first carriage steps, his hard-headed cronies Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Draco had been sure the night before to wear his Head Boy badge on the Hogsmeade holiday today, just so that his well-placed taunts and insults would hold a special authority during the weekend. Malfoy was looking forward to this Hogsmeade trip; it was to be the last of many Hogsmeade trips that the seventh years of Hogwarts had taken, but in addition to that, his mother had sent him a large sum of money in a recent care package. Draco's head was spinning with all of the possibilities of spending the Galleons in Hogsmeade, all of which dealt with rubbing it all in Ron Weasley's freckled face.

"I think I'll buy that new racing broom first," he declared to Crabbe and Goyle. He was, of course, mentioning the new Exosphere model racing broom that had been released earlier in the year. The exquisite broom, which surpassed even Harry Potter's Firebolt in speed and hairpin-handling, cost a small fortune, and Draco was intent on bringing such an expensive and valuable broom home with him before the weekend was over. He would be a dead man before he would accept that Harry Potter had the best broom in all of Hogwarts.

As the three reached the steps of the first carriage, however, Draco noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye. Crabbe and Goyle had not noticed it, of course - Goyle had stepped in something quite interesting on the way to the coach, and he and Crabbe were now in a heated debate on what exactly the substance was - but Draco had seen it as soon as he reached the carriage. It was a tall, dark figure, who was currently towering over the young students still scuttling around the grounds. It was clothed in a long black cloak, and its face was shrouded in darkness. And it seemed to be looking straight back at Draco.

Draco turned to where Crabbe and Goyle were standing. "Hey, you two lumps," he sneered. "Do you see that? What in the hell do you think it is?" But, as Draco expectantly looked for their answer, he saw that the two burly boys were gone - they had already boarded the coach, and left Draco standing there alone.

Still slightly disturbed about the strange apparition, yet even more annoyed by the disappearance of his goons, Draco hastily stepped onto the carriage's first step, mumbling slightly about how no one could find reliable help these days. But, just as he reached the top of the few stairs, a large hand fell in a tight grip on his shoulder.

He spun around quickly, a sneer on his lips, and turned to face that dark cloaked man, his gloved hand still firmly on his shoulder. The man was close now; so close that Draco's blood chilled from fear in his veins. What did he want from him? He was just about to tell him, in the bravest tone a Slytherin could muster, that accosting a Malfoy and a Hogwarts Head Boy such as himself was most definitely uncalled for, and that he should report this to Dumbeldore immediately, when the man spoke up, in a low and raspy voice.

"Not this coach," he said, pulling Draco down none too gently back onto the ground. "You go on the third coach."

Draco looked at this man in disgust. Did he even know he was speaking to a Malfoy? It mattered not that a strange man had gotten onto Hogwarts grounds, or that he was potentially dangerous or even deadly to Draco and to other students around them. No one told Draco Malfoy what to do.

He began to protest. "But I want to -"

"You go on the third coach."

The man's voice pressed firmer, firmer than Draco's, and it was then that Draco knew this man was not going to just walk away with a stern talking-to. Carefully, Draco began reaching underneath his school robes with his right hand, reaching slowly for his magic wand, when the man spoke up again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…" the man said, his voice less rough than before. The Slytherin narrowed his eyes; he knew that voice... "...Draco."

The man lifted his head slightly, the darkness surrounding his face instantly disappearing. With a slight gasp, Draco saw the glint of dark gray eyes, and silver-blonde hair identical to his own.

"You..." Draco whispered, both shocked and confused. He wanted to ask more questions, demand more answers, but as soon as the man revealed his identity to the boy, he covered his face again, and spoke no longer. He would not answer any of Draco's questions.

And so Draco Malfoy had no choice but to begrudgingly go to Hogsmeade on the third, not first, carriage.

---

Harry and Ron made their way onto the old carriage, already crowded with students from their year as well as other years. The inside of the carriage looked quite different from the outside; the interior of the coach was magicked to expand to nearly three times its appearance on the outside, fitting nearly fifty students inside. The seats, separated into two long rows with a spacious booth in the back, were billowy and comfortable, and showed no sign of wear as the outside had. Luckily, the two were able to find an empty space so that they could sit together. Harry was just about to comment on their good fortune, when he took a glance to his right, and saw that he and Ron were seated across from Dennis and Colin Creevey. Dennis smiled and waved energetically, while his older brother snapped a quick photograph with his new, modern camera. Harry wondered if they were the main reason why the seat across from them was empty.

Settling into the seat next to the aisle - and silently scorning Ron for first scrambling into the window-side seat, away from the Creevey brothers - Harry looked around the bus to find Hermione and his other friends. He didn't see Hermione sitting in any of the seats, but he noticed an empty space in front of Colin that held a rather large Muggle backpack and a copy of Hogwarts, A History on the seat, meaning that no one other than Hermione would be sitting there.

His eyes roamed across the crowded carriage to its other inhabitants. The coach was mostly filled with seventh years, but a few fourth year girls had planted themselves in the back of the carriage, along with Professor Sanglant, who seemed to have been persuaded to play "Rock, Paper, Scissors" with the girls. He turned his head to peek up at the front of the coach, where Neville sat slunched back in his seat, snoring soundly. Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum were in the front as well. Harry caught a glimpse of Hermione in the aisle, talking with Krum and looking quite unhappy that he was sitting next to Fleur instead of her. He smiled warmly at Seamus and Dean, who were seated behind Colin and Dennis, and Seamus waved back energetically; Dean seemed to be engrossed in his drawing pad, and didn't notice Harry at all.

Harry frowned as he noticed a line of gruff-looking Slytherins sitting in front of Sanglant and the group of girls, all being rather rowdy and creating a nuisance. Pansy Parkinson was looking into a compact and refreshing her makeup, while Crabbe, Goyle and Nott were magically making the seat in front of them bite its residents on the bums. He was just about to wonder why Malfoy wasn't on the coach when his two bodyguards were, when a gentle hand fell upon his shoulder.

The bespectacled teen turned to Ron, who had a concerned look in his caramel eyes. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.

He smiled at Ron's thoughtfulness, and covered the freckled hand on his shoulder with his own. "I was just thinking," he said softly. "how wonderful this weekend is going to be."

Ron's lips matched Harry's grin, and soon Harry found those grinning lips upon his own, kissing fiercely despite the many students on the coach that could have spied the two snogging in clear daylight. Harry didn't seem to mind, though, as he moaned shamelessly into Ron's mouth, allowing for his tongue to slip inside and mingle with his. It came to the point where Harry nearly lost his hands in Ron's copper hair - and nearly had forgotten where he was, where he was going, and how many people were around the two at the time - and Harry mused that Ron tasted faintly like the refreshing peppermint toads sold in Honeydukes. The thought of the large Honeydukes sweet shop brought Harry back to his senses, and broke away - albeit sadly - from Ron's kiss.

"Fred and George!" Harry exclaimed once his lips were unoccupied. Ron gave him a confused glance.

"Love," he said warily. "Why are you thinking of my brothers when I'm kissing you? That's not much of a turn-on for me..."

Harry chuckled, and gave Ron a polite cuff on the shoulder. "No, you silly," he said. "I had nearly forgotten about Fred and George's joke shop in Hogsmeade." Fred and George, who had graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, had just recently opened their dream-store, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, in the place of old Zonko's Joke Shop, which closed down due to rumors regarding illegal enchantments on Muggle whoopee cushions. Using the thousand-Galleon prize money Harry had won in the Triwizard Tournament, the twins joined up with Lee Jordan to found the new shop.

"I can't wait to see them again," Harry continued excitedly. He hadn't seen the pair since the last summer holiday at the Burrow, and it was unsettling to walk through the halls of Hogwarts without the sounds of the twins' patented booby-traps exploding upon unsuspecting passersby. "And Lee, too. Maybe they'll even give us a few tricks for free."

"All this talk about my brothers and Lee Jordan..." Ron said, snaking his arms around Harry's slender waist. "And I thought we were going to have a little time alone together this weekend."

Ron pouted, and Harry brought his face closer to this. "Don't worry, darling," he cooed into the redhead's ear, making shivers of pleasure run down his spine. "We can see Fred, George and Lee during the day." He lovingly kissed the tip of Ron's freckled nose. "And we'll have the whole night to ourselves."

"That," Ron said, smiling, "sounds like a much better plan." Contented, Harry rested his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, and Ron hugged him closer. Absently, as the redhead was quickly losing himself in the gentle scent of Harry's hair, he said aloud, "I wonder what those three are doing right now."

---

Meanwhile, in the bustling town to which the carriages were about to depart, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, and Lee Jordan were quite far from having the fun that Harry and Ron believed they would. For today, the dreadlocked boy was high atop a ladder in transfixed concentration, inside the new joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, while the two twins frowned below.

"Honestly, Lee," Fred whined. "Can't you come down from there yet? We're so bored without you."

"If I remember correctly, Fred dear," Lee said, not taking his attentions off of the small white box above the store's front door. "You two were the ones to ask me to put in a Muggle burglar alarm for the shop. So don't start complaining now."

"It didn't take us this long to set up our Protection Spells," George said.

"Or the booby traps," Fred piped up, a glint of mischief in his eyes at the mention of booby traps.

The dark boy sighed as he picked out a screwdriver from mid-air - he had, of course, charmed his Muggle tools to levitate for easy handling. "If you put those spells and traps in so quickly, I'm hoping they actually work when the need arises." He attached a blue wire to a green one expertly. "Unfortunately, Muggle technology is much more complicated than that. I'm just glad I found that generator. I can't believe there isn't even one electrical source in all of Hogsmeade!"

George shook his head as Lee returned to his work, and turned to his twin. "He had to be a half-blood," he said with a smirk.

Fred matched the smile. "And a comtuper whiz at that," he added, ignoring Lee's shouting correction of "computer!" from above. He looked back up at Lee and yelled, "If you didn't know all this crazy Muggle stuff, we could be having some fun right now!"

Lee rolled his eyes as he placed another computer chip in place. "And just what did you have in mind?" he asked, his gaze falling down to the brothers on the ground. Fred whispered into George's ear, beyond Lee's earshot. Whatever Fred seemed to be whispering, he deduced, it was either quite amusing or quite perverted, for George chuckled and cleverly hid a mischievous grin.

"Oh, you know what we have in mind, love," Fred said wickedly, as George continued to try holding in his laughter, without effective results.

He rolled his eyes again, yet couldn't help smiling at the twins' eager, yet well-intended, thoughts. Then, with a satisfied smirk to himself, Lee snapped the white box's cover back onto the burglar alarm system. "There!" he exclaimed happily. "Almost finished. We are now the only store in Hogsmeade with a Muggle alarm system!" Lee remained silent for a few seconds, waiting for a response from the redheads below. When he heard nothing but a dejected yawn from George, he went back to his work with a half-smirk. He knew just how to wake those two dunderheads up. "Now all I need to do is put in the date, and then," he shot a mischievous glance to the floor, "we'll have some fun."

The twins' moods instantly perked up. "I'll get the egg beater!" George exclaimed.

"I'll get the turkey baster!" Fred piped up.

As the two redheads bounded away upstairs to retrieve the aforementioned objects - which Lee already knew what they would be used for - the dreadlocked boy called after them. "Hey!" he hollered. "Will one of you wait long enough to give me the date?"

"The twenty-first of May, Lee," Fred shouted from the kitchen. "Isn't that right, George?"

"That's right, Fred," came the voice from the pantry, followed immediately by "Ouch! Bloody egg beater!"

Lee couldn't help but laugh at his good-natured companions. "Twenty-first of May it is, then." He punched in the numbers on the installed keypad, then went into thought. "The twenty-first of May?" he asked aloud to himself. Why did that sound so familiar? "Oi! I've got it!" The black boy snapped his fingers in triumph, but in doing so, caused all the tools that were floating in the air to crash onto the floor, nearly on top of the returning Weasley twins' heads.

"Hey, watch where you're snapping, Jordan!" George said, as he picked up a pair of pliers from the ground. "Y'could really hurt somebody, you know?"

"But I just remembered!" he said with excitement in his voice. "They're having a holiday this weekend from Hogwarts. Nearly the whole school's gonna show up!"

"More students means more sales," Fred pointed out.

"And more impressionable minds to corrupt," said George with an evil gleam in his eye.

"I'd really like to speak to Dean Thomas," Lee said, coming down slowly from the ladder. "He can check out the alarm system with me; maybe get the kinks out." Hopping down from the ladder's last rung, Lee stepped briskly by the twins, passing them, and went over to the pantry much to their surprise.

"We wouldn't mind seeing Ron and Harry," Fred snickered. "We could let them test out all the booby traps."

"Well, since they'll all probably be here in a few hours," Lee's voice floated from the pantry. "Let's make the best of the time we've got!"

And, emerging from the pantry, came Lee Jordan carrying a container full of a thick, light red substance. "I've got the strawberry syrup." And, with one glance wicked enough to rival the twins', he declared excitedly, "Race you to the bedroom!" before bounding up the stairs.

Fred and George, with egg beater and turkey baster in hand, shared a quick smile before following close behind.

---

The first carriage began to slowly lurch forward, beginning their last holiday to Hogsmeade. Harry was definitely ready for it, however; he had brought something very special with him in his pack, and he hoped to give it to Ron when they arrived. What he hadn't brought with him, however, was his Invisibility Cloak - given to him by his father - nor did he bring his trusty Firebolt racing broom. There were many other times he'd been in Hogsmeade where he used both these items: flying high above the steeped roofs of the town on his broomstick, away from everything else; and he made mischief with his cloak, sneaking into Honeyduke's and throwing mud at pesky Slytherins. But this holiday, Harry planned to keep a very low profile; no flying, no mischief. He was going to have a nice, romantic weekend with Ron before final exams, and he wouldn't be needing any brooms or cloaks to do so. And besides, if Hermione thought he would use the Invisibility Cloak to get revenge on Malfoy and his cronies again, the Head Girl would most definitely not be pleased.

Hermione traveled back to her seat as the coach began to move, and it was purely evident from the scowl on her face that her mood had changed from earlier in the morning. Mumbling something about the inferior French, she plopped down into her seat, next to her copy of Hogwarts, A History. Harry wasn't sure why she had brought the gigantic text with her if she had expected to spend the weekend with Viktor, but from the looks of things now, she might have more time to herself than expected.

"Trouble in paradise, 'Mione?" Harry questioned. Hermione tried to keep a strong front, but she looked downtrodden, and her lower lip was pouting fiercely.

"The stupid lout," she was referring to Viktor, "Just because he's an assistant professor, he thinks it's his obligation to sit at the front of the coach. Next to her," she seethed. "I have a position of high responsibility, too; you don't see me sitting in the front. Stupid lout," she said again, under her breath.

She turned to Ron and Harry and pouted. "I wish I had a relationship like you two," she said wistfully. "You always seem so...happy. What's your secret?"

Ron slung a loving arm around Harry's shoulders. "Six long years of being best friends," he replied.

"And six long months of being more," Harry added, giving the redhead a quick peck on the lips.

"Six months? Oh, that's right!" Hermione perked up, and her mood instantly changed from despondent to anxious. She turned her attentions to Ron with excitement. "Did you give it to him yet?"

Harry looked confused. He turned to look at Hermione, then at Ron. "Give me?" he asked. "Give me what?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, great, Hermione," he scowled at the witch. "Ruin the surprise!"

"Surprise?" Now Harry was more than just confused; he was downright curious. "Is this for our anniversary, Ron?" he asked, just as anxious as Hermione. It was the two boys' six-month anniversary of being lovers, and Harry had gotten Ron something for the occasion, although he was going to give him the true present that night in their room together...and give it to him for the rest of the weekend as well.

"Well, I was going to wait until we got to the inn..." Ron reached for his pack, which was scrunched up against the carriage wall. "...but I guess since Hermione's spoiled the surprise..."

Hermione spoke up. "Well, I wanted to see Harry's reaction!" she protested. "I would have never seen it if you gave it to him in private."

Harry was more anxious than ever. He loved getting surprises, and a surprise from Ron was even better. "Oh, I'd love to see it now, Ron!" he said, trying to hold in his excitement but failed. "I'll give you your present now, too...though I would have rather waited until we got to the inn..."

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. "Perhaps I shouldn't be watching this..." she said jokingly, and opened her book, pretending to read. Harry smirked; he and Ron weren't the only perverts on this carriage.

The redhead nodded, and rummaged through his pack. He pulled out a small hand mirror, and handed it to a now perplexed Harry. "Happy anniversary, love." The mirror was small, but finely decorated; its tiny pane of glass was set in iron, dressed in rich silver gilt. It was etched on the back into an elaborate, loopy design that stretched down to its long, tapered handle. It all centered around a small yet brilliant garnet stone in the middle. It was exquisite, yes, but Harry wondered why Ron was giving this to him, out of all things. He faintly remembered seeing a mirror like this while window-shopping in Diagon Alley last summer, but he and Ron weren't even seeing each other then, and out of the three friends, Hermione was the one who liked the mirror best.

"It's...it's beautiful," he said, marveling at the handiwork that couldn't possibly have been done by Muggles. "But Ron, I...I don't understand...why are you giving this to me?"

"Go on, tell him!" Hermione urged, seeming more excited about the gift than Harry. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at the Head Girl, but then Ron began to speak, and so he turned to him, listening intently.

"There's this old witches' tale about a mirror," he began. "If you put a mirror under your pillow at night, your true love will appear in your dreams."

"I thought you didn't believe in old witches' tales," Harry noted. He was still fingering the mirror gingerly.

Ron smiled with acknowledgment. "I don't, usually!" He took Harry's hand on his, and spoke softly. "But I had to know. I had to know if my feelings for you were true..."

"I understand," Harry whispered.

He nodded, and continued. "So I borrowed a mirror from Hermione -"

"When he told me what he was using it for, I gladly gave it to him," Hermione piped up, pleased that she had a hand in forming this wonderful relationship before her.

The two lovers returned their gazes to each other, their hands still clasped together lovingly. "And, of course, I saw you." Ron smiled warmly. "And I knew, that you were my true love. That was six months ago, Harry." He inched his face closer to Harry's, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. "And look at all that this little mirror has done for us."

"This is such a wonderful gift, Ron," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible above the nearly chaotic nose all around the boys. "Thank you..." He gave his red-haired lover a long, lingering kiss. "...for everything."

"And?" Ron had a sly smile on his face.

"I love it."

"And?"

"I love you."

"And?"

"You...have a nice arse?" Harry said, confused. Hermione snickered.

Ron's expression turned to mock hurt. "What about my present, you ninny!?" he said, pretending to pout. Of course! Harry was so moved by Ron's gift, he nearly forgot about his own. He felt it would be a little dull after seeing Ron's gift. He thought of asking to give it to him at the inn, but then Hermione would complain. So, reluctantly Harry pulled the small bag out of his pack, and handed it over to Ron.

The transparent, cellophane bag wasn't that decorative; it was rather plain, and closed off at the top with a simple white ribbon, tied expertly into a bow. Ron could see inside a dish filled with small cookies, delicately frosted and individually placed into the bag with care.

"They're just cookies," Harry immediately began to explain himself and his gift. "No magic or anything. I snuck into the kitchens and baked them myself...I'm not sure if they're too sweet or not, the house-elves only had extra-strength sugar crystals handy -"

"Harry." Ron stopped Harry's ramblings with a soft word and an even softer kiss. "It's the most beautiful gift I've ever gotten."

He smiled warmly at his boyfriend and whispered softly, as Ron had said to him the day before, "You always know what to say."

Ron matched his loving smile, and went straightaway to opening the bag. He pulled this delicate ribbon off the top of the wrapping with precision, but before he could reach in to take one of the enticing cookies, the entire bag was snatched from his hands from behind.

All three wizards shot their heads up to find the thief. Their faces then turned from shock as they witnessed the culprit. Hermione uttered a groan; Harry's face turned to a grimace; Ron's smile curved down into a scowl.

It was Ginny. She had grown bored of playing "Rock, Paper, Scissors" with Professor Sanglant and her friends, and so had snuck into the seat directly behind Ron and Harry. She took a quick glance at the contents of the bag, and with a delighted squeal of "Ooo! Cookies!", she opened the bag and popped one of them in her mouth. She didn't even notice the looks on her friends' faces until she took a glance over at Ron, who looked just about ready to strangle her.

"What's wrong?" She asked innocently, still munching on the bite-sized cookie. Ron's ears were red with anger, yet he didn't lash out. It was his little sister, after all; if he killed her on the carriage ride for stealing and eating his anniversary gift, how would he ever explain himself to his mother?

Instead, he only sighed, and said to Ginny through gritted teeth, "Why are you always stealing my food?"

Ginny blinked in confusion. "This was yours?" She held up the bag, taking her hand out of the cellophane wrap; she was about to go and take another, but thought better of it.

Harry nodded glumly. "I gave those to Ron for our anniversary, Ginny," he explained.

The red-haired girl frowned. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Harry!" she said. I didn't know they were any kind of special cookies, or anything like that." Harry didn't know why, but he felt that Ginny's apology reeked of insincerity. She turned to Ron, who now went from scowling to genuine pouting, and presented the bag back to him. "Here, Ron; I'm so sorry I took them from you." Ron took the cookies back, but his mood was now slightly soured.

His disposition most surely did not improve, either, with what happened next. It was then that Colin Creevey popped out of his seat, his camera in hand. "Hey, Harry!" said he, as excited as ever. "Can I take your picture now, can I?" Harry opened his mouth, ready to shoot down the sixth year as nicely as possible, but Hermione beat him to it. She stood up in the coach and took a look at Colin's camera.

"My, is that one of those instant cameras, Colin?" she asked, examining it. "This is pretty expensive, and top-of-the-line." Next to Colin, Hermione was probably the most knowledgeable wizard about cameras on the carriage; considering, she was the most knowledgeable wizard in anything there. Then, she got an idea. "You know what? Why don't you take a photo of all four of us?" she asked, pointing to Ron, Harry, Ginny, and herself.

"You mean all three of us," Ron said, glaring at his sister. Ginny huffed, both hurt and angered by her brother's coolness towards her, and left in a hurry back to her friends.

Colin looked rather saddened by the thought that he wouldn't get a picture strictly of Harry, but he obliged nonetheless. "All right," he said, holding the camera up to his face. "Get ready!" Hermione scooted over to sit with Ron and Harry and smiled. Hermione's presence squished Harry into the seat slightly, but not uncomfortably, and he did his best to smile. Ron lifted himself up on his knees on the seat, so that his head could be seen above Harry and Hermione's. He grinned happily, his mood suddenly lightened, as he wrapped one arm around Harry's shoulders and formed a peace sign with his other hand. The three wizards looked right in their element, and when Colin said, "Say cheese!", the three friends couldn't have looked more alive.

"Let's see! Let's see!" said Ron excitedly. He was amazed the Muggles could create such a magical, advanced piece of equipment. They crowded around the fast-developing photograph, eager to see how the shot came out. As the forms took shape and the three figures focused, Ron saw Harry and Hermione's faces smiling happily, yet his own head was cut out of the picture. Only his arm could be seen, slung over Harry's shoulders. Ron's face contorted in upset, and he exclaimed loudly,

"I'm hardly in it!"

He sat back in the seat, in a more upset mood than ever. Hermione clicked her tongue at the photo in disappointment. Colin looked at the picture, and thought that cutting Ron out of the frame was a great improvement. Harry frowned, and took the picture from Colin. He felt terrible that this holiday was setting off so badly for Ron.

"It's all right, love," Harry said soothingly, handing him the photograph. Ron said nothing, still pouting, yet he took the picture and placed it in his breast pocket. "And it will be all right," he added, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "As long as I'm with you." The redhead probably wouldn't admit to it later, but Harry saw Ron's spirits perk slightly, as a half-smile crossed his freckled face.

A loud yawn came from Hermione's mouth, and she announced, "I don't know about you two, but I feel just about ready for a nap." She shifted back to her seat, sat back in the cushiony chair, and closed her eyes. "Wake me at Hogsmeade," she instructed Harry and Ron, and the fell quickly asleep.

Harry thought it was slightly odd for Hermione to fall to sleep on the carriage ride, considering it hadn't been that long ago that they departed from Hogwarts. He looked around, though, and saw that many of his schoolmates were also asleep: Dean and Seamus slept soundly next to each other, and Colin Creevey clutched his camera tightly while in dreams. He felt a head fall onto his shoulder, and looked down to see a drowsy Ron upon him.

"Hermione seems to have the right idea," he yawned. "I think I'll just...rest up for tonight..."

He smiled at Ron's parting words, before the redhead joined the rest of the bus in slumber. Harry felt himself subconsciously yawn, and he knew that he would not be long after Ron. I didn't get enough sleep last night, I'll bet, he thought to himself as he eased himself into his lover's dormant arms. He'd just have a short nap, and be fully rested as they arrived in Hogsmeade...

Harry Potter fell asleep, his last waking thoughts on the great time he and his friends were about to have on this, their final trip to Hogsmeade.