Hero of my Dreams

It was just after dinner, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was busy doing homework, as always - now that she was Head Girl, she was even more focused on her work than ever. It was their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. In the Muggle world, Hermione would be scrambling to fill out applications and writing essays for universities. She was the type of person who just might have enjoyed the process - however, fortunately or unfortunately, none of that was necessary. There were no Wizarding universities and Hermione was not keen on the thought of attending a Muggle one. Starting the very first Wizard's university was a thought much more to her liking, and one that had been occupying the back of her mind for years now. That was not what she was working on at the moment, though, she was merely writing a boring Arithmancy paper.

Harry was in the process of writing a letter to his godfathers Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, keeping them up-to-date with what was happening at Hogwarts. Nothing terribly important had been going on, so his letter was very newsy and gossipy. Ron was doing nothing, merely sitting there and looking quite glum.

After a few moments of the three of them sitting in silence, Hermione sighed and looked up at Ron. "Ron? Whatever's the matter?" she asked. It was quite out of character for him to be so quiet.

Ron frowned, then looked over at Hermione, rather sadly. "It's Thursday," he said glumly.

Hermione shook her head, a small smile on her face.

Harry grinned, as he looked up from his letter. "Aww...poor Ron, stuck with our company tonight."

Hermione giggled at that. "Yes, poor Ron, indeed."

It was a great joke between the three of them...well, between Hermione and Harry, mostly. They loved teasing Ron about his new crush-object, unofficially his girlfriend - the one and only Penelope Clearwater, former Hogwarts student and current Hogwarts professor. She taught a class in remedial potions on Thursday nights - which lead to Ron's Thursday glumness.

Harry was happy for Ron. Hermione...well, there was a tiny bit of lingering bitterness with Hermione, who always thought that Ron fancied her. A very tiny bit, more than cancelled out when Hermione found Ron's schedule and had the opportunity to innocently inquire why he had outlined all of Professor Clearwater's lessons in little hearts.

Ron had just opened his mouth in an attempt to form a snappy retort, when he was interrupted by the approach of Neville Longbottom.

"Hello Ron, Harry, Hermione," he said, a rather silly grin on his face.

"Hello, Neville," Ron returned, seeming rather puzzled both by Neville's return and his odd happiness. "Neville, aren't you supposed to be..."

"Yes," Neville said, beaming. He was the only person who would voluntarily sign up for a course in remedial potions, and he did so...only to discover that, with Professor Snape gone, he wasn't really all that bad in potions. Defense against the Dark Arts, now, that was a completely different matter, but... "Yes. But she told me I didn't need to come anymore...she said I was doing quite well. And she sent me with a message...a message for Ron." He blushed a little at that, which was understandable, since Neville blushed easily. Especially after the conversations he'd had with Professor Clearwater...about Percy and Oliver...and Colin and everything. She was a very good listener, Professor Clearwater - she'd given Neville a piece of wonderful advice.

"Yes? What is it?" Ron asked eagerly, his eyes lit up.

"She said to tell you that she'd stopped teaching remedial potions, that's all," Neville said, with a small shrug. "That you could come over if you wanted to, because she had nothing planned for tonight."

"That's what she said? Really?"

"Really."

Ron stood up, a grin on his face. "Wonderful!" he said, laughing. "I guess I won't be stuck with you lot after all." He winked to show that he wasn't being entirely serious, then stood up and quickly hurried out of the common room.

Harry laughed lightly. "The two of them are so sweet," he said, offhandedly, as he returned to his letter.

"I'd call it sick," Hermione said, snorting.

"No. Sweet," Neville said decisively, and then blushed when both Hermione and Harry looked at him, surprised.

"Hi honey, I'm home," Penelope said as she walked into her room. Of course she got no answer, she never got an answer because there was no one there to answer. The irony of it amused her. She set down her armload of books on the table and then went and changed into casual flannel robes.

It had been a long day, longer than usual, because of her remedial potions class. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, there were plenty of people who had done absolutely dreadfully in Professor Snape's classes. Their grades had all improved immensely when Penelope had started teaching the class. Only one person actually signed up for her remedial course, Neville Longbottom, famous for his accidents and mishaps in Snape's class. But he too had been doing wonderfully in potions ever since Penelope took over.

In their very first remedial potions class, he asked her politely how Percy was doing - apparently he either hadn't been paying attention when they ended their relationship, or he hadn't cared. Or maybe he was perceptive enough to know that the two of them would still be friends. Penelope, surprised by the question, had told him the truth; that he was doing lovely, that he was freelance writing for the Daily Prophet and some Muggle publications. She had continued with the story, telling Neville that Percy was currently off in Russia because the English National Quidditch team was playing some sort of series of matches against the Russian one and she hadn't heard from him since he left for Russia - but that was not surprising since she assumed that he and Oliver had much better things to do than write her letters. She hadn't realised she'd told Neville Percy's secret until it was too late,but Neville didn't seem to mind. Furthermore, it had lead to other discussions, which had been an entertaining way to spend the remedial potions class, since Neville wasn't in much need of the lessons.

Penelope smiled slightly as she sat on her sofa, reaching for the stack of letters that had been sent to her that day. Most of it was dull, Hogwarts business type things...and then there was a very bulky envelope from Percy, with the phrase "From Russia with Love!" scrawled across the back of it.

A grin on her face, Penelope opened it. The letter was short :

Dear Penelope - just wanted to write you and let you know that we're alive and well. "Very well," Oliver adds. His Quidditch team is doing wonderfully, I think they're about to win it all. He's a little upset with me for sneaking to the next arena and watching the event there, which I did yesterday and found quite enjoyable. It's a sport called "Figure Skating". It's a muggle sport, of course, but it's very popular with Russian Wizards. Anyway, I'm sending you the souvenir programme I collected - Oliver would get jealous if I kept it too long! I hope you like it. Lots of love to you. Good luck with your classes, of course, and...and all that sentimental rot. Love you, as always, Percy and...

The end of the 'd' in 'and' trailed off the page, and then another short note was written in the bottom in large, looping handwriting that contrasted sharply with Percy's obsessively neat script.

Penny - Hello love! As Perce said, we're doing well. It's a great Quidditch season for England. And don't listen to him, I'm not jealous of a silly booklet with pictures of Russian Muggles in it. Honestly! And he's wrong, the sport's popular with Russian Witches, not Russian Wizards. The Wizards are the smart ones, over watching us play a real sport! Anyway, Lots of love from me and all, Pen. Yours, Oliver.

Penelope laughed as she read the letter. She could picture the two of them perfectly as they would have been while writing it: Percy sitting at the hotel desk, telling Oliver what he was saying, Oliver lounging on the bed in the background, making his comments and insisting that they be added to the letter, then pouncing on the letter and adding them himself when Percy refused. She loved both Percy and Oliver and missed them terribly - they were among her very best friends in the world.

She folded the letter back up and set it aside, reaching for the souvenir programme. Figure skating, yes, she knew the sport. Penelope had attended a muggle university, and had muggle friends, and one of them was absolutely obsessed with figure skating. It was an interesting diversion, probably one of the most entertaining of muggle sports...and could anyone resist the allure of gorgeous men in tight sequined outfits?

Penelope grinned as she paged through the souvenir programme - it had been written in Russian, of course, and she didn't speak a word of Russian. But did that really matter? It was a wizard souvenir programme, so all the pictures moved. The skaters performed their routines on every page. It was a little strange without music, but quite fun anyway. Her Muggle friends from university would have enjoyed it immensely, Penelope thought to herself.

"Penny?" a familiar voice called as the door to her room opened, just a touch, interrupting her from her daydream.

"Ron?" she replied, a smile on her face. "Come in...I'd come to the door and greet you, but I haven't the energy." Ron...Ron Weasley. Percy's younger brother, her best friend at Hogwarts...and the man she was more than a little in love with, although she'd never be caught admitting that to anybody.

"Oh, that's quite all right," Ron said, crossing the room and delicately sitting next to her on the couch. "Neville told me that you told him I could come visit...so I did. I missed you," he admitted, a little shyly.

Penelope smiled suddenly. "I missed you too," she said, sitting up slightly. "I always do on Thursdays, since I don't see you in class and I have...well, I used to have remedial potions, but I don't anymore." Vaguely aware that she was babbling like an idiot, she stopped talking.

"No, you don't. That's what Neville said. What...what are you reading?" he asked, turning his head so he could see her magazine.

"Oh!" Penny laughed lightly. "Your brother sent it to me. It's a souvenir programme from an event he attended in Russia. Figure skating."

"Oh..." Ron said lightly, a little stung by her mention of his brother. Percy, who had been Penelope's boyfriend ages ago, Percy, who was still one of Penelope's best friends. He always got a little depressed when he thought of that. And then he came to his senses. Percy, who was never really in love with Penelope - certainly not the way Ron was - Percy, who was now living with his boyfriend Oliver. There was no need to be jealous of his older brother, no need at all.

"Yes. It's a Muggle sport. They wear shoes, with metal blades on them, and then they dance on ice." Penelope attempted to explain the concept of figure skating, although very badly it seemed, for Ron now looked terribly confused. "Here...just watch," she said, and held the programme so they both could see it.

"It's a Muggle sport?" he asked, wondering why in the world then the pictures were moving.

"Yes, but it's popular with Russian Wizards. Russian Witches, pardon," she said, grinning, as she corrected herself, thinking of Oliver's statements in the letter.

"Oh."

The two sat in silence, watching the one skater's routine. "It's quite lovely," Ron said after a moment, to be polite. He didn't quite see the appeal. "I'd rather watch Quidditch, I think."

Penelope grinned. She was glad of that...very, very glad.

"Ow!" Ron flinched suddenly as the Russian skater spun on one foot, holding his other foot behind his head. "How does he do that?"

She laughed. "We don't like to think about that," she told him, a rather evil grin on her face. "Or men who are really good at Quidditch. Takes all the fun out of it...ruins some lovely dreams." Both rather vile thoughts, or perhaps two different expressions of the same vile thought. It was an unexpected thing coming from Penelope, who blushed as easily as Neville did. Neither vile thought was her own originally, although she had no idea where they came from. She wondered vaguely if Percy would confirm the second for her - he was certainly in a position to do so - and that thought did make her blush.

"Oh," Ron said, again. He wasn't really sure what the two things had to do with each other, but...well, he'd keep thinking. In the meantime, he'd change the subject, noticing Penelope blushing. "How was your day?" he asked, politely.

Penelope's eyes lit up at the question, and she began telling him about her classes and the things that had happened that day. There had been a little mishap in the sixth-year Gryffindor class, but given what she had been told in her remedial potions section, she understood perfectly why the student had been distracted. Of course, she didn't tell Ron that part; she'd promised to keep it confidential.

Ron listened attentively at first, until his mind started wandering and he put together what Penelope had been saying earlier. "Penelope?" he interrupted gently.

"Yes?" she replied, turning to look at him.

Ron grinned broadly. "I'm a very, very bad Quidditch player. Horrible, even."