The Book of Morgan Le Fey

Chapter Twenty-Six: Dreams and Nightmares

The sun beat down on his skin like fire and it was so bright out he could hardly see for squinting. It was so hot. Hermione shielded her eyes with one hand and tugged on his with the other, and slowly, his eyes came into focus.

They were walking. Or rather, she was walking, and he was following. They were at the lake just over the crest of the hill, near The Burrow.

This is odd, thought Ron. I was sure we were just at school.

'Come on, Ron,' said Hermione, in a soft voice. He looked down at her and she was smiling and she looked so beautiful. He smiled back and blinked and when he opened his eyes, she was no longer holding his hand, but standing on the little wooden dock that hung over the lake. The light breeze ruffled her wild hair but did nothing to cool him; his whole body was suffused with heat; it was almost suffocating him. A dip in the lake would feel like heaven.

He started toward her and heard her giggle.

'Wait,' she said. 'Just stay there.'

He obeyed. He wasn't sure just why but something in her voice persuaded him. He was about to ask her what she was doing, but in the next instant it became obvious, and he felt his mouth drop open as she peeled off her t-shirt, kicked off her shoes, unbuttoned her shorts and slid them down. She was wearing white cotton knickers and a matching bra; entirely practical and outrageously sexy. Ron gulped. Hermione laughed, winked at him, and then with a run and a squeal she launched herself off the end of the dock and into the water.

He was frozen in place; he'd never seen her in her underwear. He tried to rationalize that it was basically the same as a bikini, but that didn't work. Then she surfaced and the water came up to her waist and dripped down her front and seemed to pool between her breasts. The sun glistened off the water, off her skin, and made his vision swim.

'Are you coming in?' she called.

Ron's feet seemed to react before his mind did. He raced to the end of the platform, yanked off his shoes and shirt, tearing it in the process. It was his favorite Chudley Cannons shirt but at that moment he didn't care if the bloody thing disintegrated. He hurtled off the dock and landed in the water with an enormous splash.

His hands found her at once and he pulled her close and they kissed and the water cooled them even as Ron was engulfed in searing heat that threatened to make his very blood boil. Her wet skin against his was the very best kind of torture. She was wrapped around him, arms and legs and delicious heat, and he knew he couldn't stand it anymore.

''Mione, please,' he begged, already fumbling with the clasp of her soaked bra.

'Yes, Ron,' she whispered. 'Yes...'

He pulled the bra away and she was so beautiful and he couldn't believe he was finally seeing her. And then she kissed him again, and the world went white and began to spin. And his lips moevd to her neck and lower, lower, and she was taking his breath away with her lips and her tongue and her skin--especially her skin--and he was drowning...

'Ron,' she said, and her voice sounded far away all of a sudden. 'Ron...'

Ron blinked again. He was in his bed. At school. Nowhere near the Burrow. He was on his back, his hands in fists, the covers at his feet. He was roasting. He looked round and down and saw Hermione lying next to him. She was staring at him with wide eyes.

'Ron?' she whispered, and her bleary eyes sharpened with concern. 'Are you okay?'

Ron swallowed and felt his face get hot. 'Fine,' he said. 'Fine. Uh, why?' Why, why, WHY did you wake me up? he wanted to say. It was just getting really, REALLY good.

'You were just...well, moaning,' she said.

'Oh,' said Ron. Bloody hell. He searched the recesses of his mind for a convincing reason--other than being randy--that would explain his moaning. He could say that he'd just had a bad dream, but if he said that, she'd get worried and upset. On the other hand, if he told her he'd been having a sex dream, with her in it, she'd get offended. It was difficult to know which lie to choose.

'Uh, well, my...stomach's a bit upset,' he said lamely. 'You know me. Always eating too many sweets.'

'Your stomach,' she said, and her voice changed. 'Really?'

'Really,' he said, nodding.

'Right,' said Hermione, and she rolled her eyes. 'You're sure it's your stomach and not something else?'

'Positive,' said Ron. Drop it, please, he thought desperately.

'Ron, I'm not stupid, you know,' said Hermione indignantly, and she sat up in bed and folded her arms across her chest.

'I never said you were,' said Ron quickly, sitting up, although for him this was distinctly more uncomfortable.

'You really expect me to believe that...that THAT is a result of a stomachache?' she hissed, pointing her index finger at him. His eyes followed to where her finger was pointing.

'Oh, shit,' he said, and he yanked up the covers. Why did stuff like this have to be so damn obvious? There were times--rare, to be sure, but there all the same--that he really hated being male.

'Don't swear,' she said, and her face was bright red.

'You're the one pointing out...pointing out...things,' Ron hissed at her. Great. All he needed now was for the other boys in the dorm to wake up and yank back his curtains and see him with a raging hormone indicator and her looking really, really hacked off.

'I only did it because you were lying!' she retorted. 'And anyway it was so...obvious.'

Ron groaned and put his face in his hands. He felt stupid. He felt like a perv.

'I'm sorry,' he heard himself say in a pained voice. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean...I can't help...you think I'm a perv, don't you?'

She said nothing, and he lowered his hands and shifted again. At least some of the pinching was going away.

She looked down at her own hands. 'I don't think...you're a pervert,' she said.

'I didn't mean to...' he said. 'I just...I'm sorry. Honest. It was just a dream.'

'Must have been a good dream,' she said, not looking at him.

'It was,' he admitted.

They said nothing for a long moment; they just sat next to one another on the bed. Ron wanted to take her hand, touch her hair, anything to break through this awkwardness, through his own embarrassment. It wasn't as if he'd never woken up in an...alert state before. He had, plenty of times. But it was a whole other Quidditch game when your girlfriend was present.

'What happened in the dream?' said Hermione, still looking down at her hands, which she had begun to worry.

Ron stared at her. Was she really asking him for details?

'Uh,' he said dumbly. 'Well, not much.'

'Tell me,' she said.

She wasn't going to let this go. Ron took a deep breath and steeled himself.

'Okay,' he said. 'You and me were walking over to the lake, you know, by The Burrow--'

'I was in the dream?' she said, looking up.

'Of course you were in it,' he said, incredulously. 'Who else would I dream about in that way?'

'I dunno,' she said. 'Keep going.'

'So we were walking to the lake and...and it was really hot outside and you went to the dock and, uh, suggested we take a swim. And so we did, and we kissed a bit. And...and that was it,' he said.

She gave him her best I Don't Buy It look. 'That's ALL that happened?'

'Well,' he said, swallowing, 'you might have, uh, stripped down to your knickers.'

She blushed. 'Oh,' she said. 'Okay. Um, what else?'

'Well, you...we...you let me take your bra off,' said Ron, looking at anything and anywhere but her. 'And...shit, Hermione.'

'What?' she prodded. 'And stop cursing.'

'And I said, uh, "please, 'Mione" and you kept saying, uh, "yes, Ron", and I was sort of kissing you, uh, well, a bit lower than usual and...I guess it might have gone on but...but I woke up,' he mumbled, and at that moment he wished his bed would swallow him up.

'Oh,' she said again, nodding, and they were both as red as his bed curtains.

'So,' said Ron, 'I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to have a...a dream like that about you, but...sometimes, well...I can't help it. Okay? I'm sorry. I know you think I'm a dirty great perv--'

'I don't,' she said, and finally she looked at him. 'I don't. I just...I didn't know you thought about it...that much.'

'I don't,' he lied. She gave him another look.

'Okay, I do,' he said. 'But...I swear that's not the only thing I think about. Honest. I meant what I said before. About...not wanting to do stuff before you're ready. And that's not the only reason I'm with you. You know that, don't you? I'm mad about you. You know that.'

'I know,' she said, and she looked down. She looked terribly sad all of a sudden, and he moved closer to her.

''Mione, what's wrong?' he asked, and now he did take her hand.

'I'm scared,' she said, in a small voice.

'What, of Voldemort?' he said, and he gripped her hand tightly. 'Me, too. You'd have to be a nutter not to be scared of him--'

'No,' she said. 'Of...of that. Of...sex.'

'Oh,' he said. 'Well, you, uh, mentioned that. Before.'

'It's stupid,' she said. 'I shouldn't be scared of it.'

He didn't say anything for a moment, in part because he rather agreed with her. There were so many truly scary things out there. Sex hardly seemed like one of them. But instead he asked, 'Why are you scared? Because...because it might hurt?'

'That,' she conceded with a shrug. 'And...and...' She took a deep breath and Ron saw her eyes fill with tears.

'What?' he prodded gently.

'That I won't be any good at it,' she said, wiping a tear away. 'That you won't...you won't think I'm pretty enough--'

'Hang on,' he interrupted. 'Are you barking? You think I won't think you're pretty enough? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Hermione, and you're not stupid. In case you haven't figured it out by now I think...I think you're amazing. And gorgeous. And wonderful. And lovely. And brilliant. And... and...do I have to go on and keep sounding like a prat here?'

She laughed and wiped her eyes again.

'Hermione,' he said, his voice low and serious. 'Dreams are just dreams, okay? You're my girl and...and you drive me insane and I don't want anyone else and...believe me, I'm dying to see you naked, though I mean that in the most respectful way possible, and if...if I'm a randy dog half the time it's because of the way you make me feel and not just because I'm a randy dog.' He paused. 'Okay, that made no sense.'

She giggled. 'It made sense,' she said. 'Do I really drive you insane?'

'Definitely,' he said, chucking her lightly on the chin. 'But...in a really good way.'

'You drive me insane, too,' she said, smiling shyly.

'I'll bet,' said Ron, shaking his head. 'Bone-headed, lazy, stubborn, temperamental...'

'Sweet and thoughtful and lovely,' Hermione corrected.

'Sweet and thoughtful and lovely?' he repeated. 'Not, uh, manly and brave and heroic and...handsome?'

'That, too,' she said, and she put her arms round his neck and kissed him lightly, then harder. And they kissed slowly and deeply for several minutes and Ron was entirely excited again. But this wouldn't do. It was getting near dawn now and the other boys would wake up and knowing Seamus, he would yank back the curtains again and this time the other boys would find Hermione snogging Ron while Ron sported that hormone indicator...

''Mione,' Ron murmured, 'maybe we should get you back to your room.'

'Anxious to get rid of me?' she whispered, between kisses.

'No way,' he said, 'but...Seamus...and the rest...'

'Hang on,' she said, and she reached beneath the pillow and extracted her wand.

'You put that under the pillow?' said Ron.

'Of course,' she said. 'You really should, too. As a precaution. But...where was I? Oh, right...'

She muttered something and gave her wand a wave, and a brief glow appeared on the bed curtains.

'What was that?' said Ron.

'Impervious Charm,' she said. 'Nobody can get in. And a Silencing Charm, too.' She smiled, and it contained a mixture of triumph and bashfulness.

'You're brilliant,' he said, and he pulled her close and kissed her and lowered her down onto the bed. His lips made a trail to her neck.

'Ron,' she whispered. 'Maybe...maybe we could try a bit of what was in your dream.'

Ron's head snapped up and he looked down at her. He could hardly believe he was hearing her correctly.

'Are you serious?' he said eagerly. She didn't give a verbal answer; she just nodded.

Just over an hour later, she left. Ron lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, a very foolish and very happy grin on his face. The reality had been a million times better than the dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Good morning!' Ron said brightly, as he took a seat next to Harry.

'Hello to you,' said Harry, arching his eyebrows. 'You're in a good mood.'

'Yeah, well,' said Ron, 'it's spring and we have a match on Saturday and we're going to wipe the grounds with slimy Slytherin arse.'

'Uh huh,' said Harry, and he lowered his voice. 'Hermione spent the night again, I take it?'

'Why yes, she did,' said Ron, and he grinned again.

'Never mind,' said Harry, rolling his eyes. 'I don't think I want to know.'

'Oh, look, there's Hermione,' said Ron, and he grinned across the hall at her. She smiled back and continued her conversation with Katie Bell.

Ron was still grinning as he poured himself some orange juice. 'Isn't she the best?'

'Who, Hermione?' said Harry, between bites of cereal.

'No, the Fat Lady,' said Ron. 'Of course, Hermione.'

'Ron, if you don't stop this I'm going to gag on my breakfast,' said Harry. 'What's with you, anyway? You two have been dating for months and you're acting like you just got together. And I know you didn't shag because you'd be acting a thousand times stupider. Which is saying something.'

'I'm just...content,' said Ron, pouring himself some cereal. He waved at Hermione, she waved back, and he winked at her.

'Oh, my god,' said Harry. 'That's it. Now I KNOW I liked the two of you better when you weren't snogging all the time. Can't you idiots have a nice big row like in the old days?'

'Times change, mate,' said Ron. 'Anyway, you should talk. You haven't spent a night in the dormitory in weeks.'

They spent another minute ribbing one another before they were joined by Neville, Ginny, Susan (who had migrated over from the Hufflepuff table) and the Creevey brothers.

They couldn't discuss the latest about Luna or the book or anything else with the Creeveys there, but it was okay. Ginny didn't look particularly anxious about anything, so he figured she must not have learned anything new from Luna. Ron was in such a good mood that he didn't even really notice--well, not that much--the glares from the Slytherin table, or from Eddie Carmichael, who had taken a seat next to Luna at the Ravenclaw table.

Screeches and a soft whoosh from overhead announced the arrival of the morning post. Owls flew in and dropped parcels, and one landed on Ron's head. Pig hooted tiredly and landed clumsily on the table, right on the plate of bacon.

'Stupid git,' Ron groaned. 'Get away. I wanted some of that.' Pig hooted happily and hopped off the bacon.

'This had better be good, Pig,' said Ron, turning the letter over in his hand. His breath caught when he saw the return post. The handwriting was a bit shaky, but Ron would have recognized the otherwise neat, precise script anywhere.

Then he heard Hermione give a soft, happy sort of sound.

'I got a letter from my dad,' she said, and her eyes were shining with happy tears. 'And...Ron, that's from Percy!'

'I got one, too,' said Ginny, smiling. 'That...that must mean he's awake and doing better.'

'A letter from St. Mungo's,' said Susan, and she smiled weakly. 'Auntie's awake but she's still really worn out so...so she won't get to write for a few days.'

'That's good news, though, isn't it, Sue?' said Harry, taking her hand.

'It's good news,' said Susan, nodding.

Hermione had already torn her letter open and was reading it; from the looks of it, her father had written her a veritable novel; now Ron knew where Hermione got her letter writing habits from.

Ron, for his part, slowly opened the letter and read it. As expected, it was several times longer than the one he had sent.

Dear Ron,

Thank you for your letter. I am doing all right. My legs hurt like
hell and I'm having to take a dozen foul potions a day but I'm told
I'll make an almost full recovery. One foot was damaged quite badly,
however, so it looks like I'll have a bit of a limp from here on out. All things considered I can't complain.

Did you hear the news about Father? Mother is beside herself, of
course. Father, however, says he has no plans to run for the office
when the election comes up; he says he's just not a politician at
heart, really. In any case Madam Bones has done a fine job,
considering how rough things have been all year, and she's assured of
a complete recovery and will most likely be back at work in a few
weeks. Father plans to step aside when she does.

Mother also tells me that you and Hermione have been dating.

Ron sighed. 'Ginny,' he muttered. 'Nosy brat.' He continued to read the letter.

I think this is wonderful news. Hermione is certainly a lovely girl, and she
has to be a very positive influence on you, considering what an excellent
student she is. I must warn you, however, that it is rather difficult to find
any sort of privacy in the cafont>she eventually happened upon this extraordinary room that the house
elves refer to as the Come and Go Room. If you haven't heard of it, you
can find it next to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy; the trick is that it
only appears if you really need it. Just walk past the tapestry a few times
and think about the sort of room you need and it'll be there. A wonderful
room, really, although you really shouldn't use it too often. You are still a
prefect, after all. I would never encourage such rule-breaking normally, of
course, but when it comes to girlfriends this is a special exception.

Ron felt his face go hot and thought about the events of just an hour and a half ago. Hermione in his bed, noticeably lacking certain items of clothing...

'Focus,' he said out loud.

'What?' said Harry and Hermione together.

'Nothing,' said Ron quickly, looking down. Harry shook his head and Ron felt Hermione nudge him and smile. He smiled back and went back to reading the letter from Percy.

I expect to be out of hospital within the next two weeks. Mother and
Father have asked me to come stay with them at the Burrow for the
summer. I'd very much like to but if you prefer that I didn't, I'll go back
to my flat in London. I do not want to create any tension during the
holiday, especially when it's to be your last summer as a Hogwarts
student.l. In any event,
please send an owl to me directly with your reply, so that I can inform
Mother and Father straight away.

I hope all is well at school. Please be sure to be careful; it's a dangerous
time right now and Professor McGonagall will be looking to the prefects
to set the example for the other students. Nonetheless I am quite confident
that you are perfectly safe at Hogwarts, what with all the spells and
enchantments (and now trolls and Aurors) protecting the school. If you
wish to know more about this it's all found in Hogwarts, a History, a
fascinating book I highly recommend if you haven't devoured it already.

Yours,

Percy

Ron folded the letter and felt better than he had in weeks. He'd spent the morning fooling around in bed with the greatest, most amazing girl in the world, and his brother--his uptight prig of a brother--was...his brother again. And he was going to recover and even walk, if a bit poorly. Somehow, Voldemort and evil plots to poison Muggles seemed very far away that morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron's good mood carried him through lessons, and he got rather good marks that day. On this high note, he walked back with a group of Gryffindors--accompanied by a young male Auror--to Gryffindor tower to compose a quick response to Percy's letter.

Dear Percy,

Glad to hear you're on the mend. It's fine with me for you to stay the
summer. Check with Fred and George, though. And make sure Mum
nt>cleans out your room. I'm pretty sure they did some stuff to it.

Ron

He sent Pig on with the letter and made a mental note to award him with extra owl treats when the little bugger got back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week continued without incident. Ron and the others were still checking The Daily Prophet every morning. Ginny waseeping an eye on Luna. Neville was still keeping his mouth shut. Eddie had done nothing untoward; Malfoy was being his usual awful self, but that was nothing new. Bill was in a far better mood now that Percy was on the mend. Lessons went well. Hermione was spending every night in Ron's room, entering after the other boys fell asleep (Harry slept...somewhere else, with Susan) and leaving before they woke up. In between, Ron and Hermione slept and did other things that had nothing to do with sleep.

The only wrinkle, as far as Ron was concerned, was Hermione's insecurity. She was convinced she just wasn't that nice to look at. It was mad and he tried to tell her that but she would just brush off his compliments. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did. He broached the matter with Bill after a Dark Arts lesson on Thursday.

'So, you're saying she's insecure?' said Bill.

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'I mean, it's mad. I'm crazy about her and I think she's beautiful but it's like she doesn't believe me.'

Bill smiled and shook his head. 'That's girls for you. The most beautiful girl in the world never thinks she's pretty enough. Fleur was the same way.'

'Bullshit,' said Ron, scoffing. 'Fleur Delacour? As in part Veela, reducing men to stupid, incoherent blobs, too beautiful to be real Fleur? THAT Fleur?'

'I know, it's barking, isn't it?' said Bill. 'But in my experience it doesn't matter how gorgeous the woman is. They all get freaked out about being naked in front of a bloke.'

'That's ridiculous,' said Ron. 'I mean, we're talking about Hermione. She doesn't worry about all that girly, image stuff. And she doesn't need to, anyway. I like how she looks just as she is.'

'You think it's ridiculous, and I think it's ridiculous, but it's not to them,' said Bill. 'Most girls care about how they look, and worry about it. Even if they don't put make-up on or whatever. All you can do is be sensitive and show her how hot you are for her.'

'Shut it,' said Ron, blushing. 'She knows that. I mean, I tell her.'

'That's good,' said Bill. 'You two haven't--'

'No,' said Ron. 'She's, uh, a bit scared about it. Well, the naked thing and the whole pain thing.'

'There is that,' said Bill. 'But it's no better for us. Not really.'

'It's not?' said Ron. 'You're joking.'

'Nope,' said Bill. 'Don't get me wrong. It's amazing and you'll have a great time, most likely, but first times are always awkward and clumsy, and you'll be lucky if it lasts ten seconds.'

'Ten seconds?' said Ron. 'That's it?'

'It takes time and practice to build...stamina,' said Bill, grinning. 'Young men like yourself aren't exactly experts in the art of self-control.'

'Piss off,' said Ron. 'You probably weren't a genius at it, either, back then.'

'Me?' said Bill. 'I was bloody horrible at it, and I only last five seconds the first time. A nightmare. Totally humiliating. But I got better at it with practice, just like everyone else.'

'How much practice?' said Ron. On the one hand, frequent sex sounded just fine to him. On the other hand, he wondered just how badly he would stink at it and how long it would take to get good at it. Please, Merlin, not as long as it took me to get decent at Keeping.

'As much as you both want,' said Bill. 'The more you practice, the better it gets.'

Ron grinned. 'Cool.'

'Yeah,' said Bill, winking. 'And anyway, Weasleys have to be pretty good at sex, right? Look at Mum and Dad. Randy AND fertile.'

'Oh YUCK!' said Ron, appalled. 'I don't want to imagine...Mum and Dad...that's disgusting. I'm going to have nightmares now!'

'Hey, you and me didn't just appear out of thin air, you know,' said Bill, rolling his eyes. 'But that does bring up a good point. When you and Hermione do get around to having sex, for Merlin's sake, use birth control.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The final Quidditch match of the season took place on a glorious Saturday morning. Ron awoke early, feeling refreshed and well-rested for the first time in weeks. A kind of bright optimism and confidence filled him as he pulled on his jeans and t-shirt to go down to breakfast. They would be matched against Slytherin, and this would be the perfect opportunity not only to win the cup again, but to get revenge on Malfoy for setting in motion the fight last year that had lead to Harry, Fred and George's Quidditch ban. Ron also couldn't help but feel much lighter-hearted since reconciling with Percy. Things were better than Ron could have expected.

Ron met Ginny, Harry and Hermione in the common room, and headed out of the portrait hole, where they were greeted by Tonks.

'Wotcher!' she said, grinning. 'Ready to kick some Slytherin arse?'

'Definitely,' said Harry, grinning back. 'Always brings joy to my day, humiliating Malfoy.' He didn't seem to mind one bit having to be escorted by an adult to the Great Hall. A far cry from a year ago.

'Wish I could stay and watch the match,' she said regretfully, 'but I've got to get back to London this morning and meet with Kingsley about some new recruits.'

The five of them entered the Great Hall to find it largely empty-most students were taking advantage of the weekend to sleep in. Tonks waved and headed out of the Great Hall. Parvati, Seamus and Andrew Kirke were already there. The Slytherin Quidditch team was there, scowling at the Gryffindor table between bites of porridge, bacon and eggs.

'Malfoy's looking particularly smug today,' Parvati Patil said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

'That's how he always looks,' said Seamus, through a mouthful of porridge. 'Pointy-faced sod.'

Ron glanced over at the Slytherin table and his eyes met Malfoy's. Malfoy gave him a sneering look, but Ron noticed that Parvati was right; Malfoy DID look rather more arrogant than usual today. He wondered if one of the Slytherins had managed to jinx the Gryffindor's brooms.

'Hey,' said Harry, sitting down across from Ron. 'I went down to the pitch earlier, with Tonks. Everything looks about as good as it can be. It'll be a slaughter.'

'Sounds like a plan,' said Ron happily, immediately forgetting all about Malfoy's smugness. In a little while that thin-faced mama's boy would be sobbing into his tea about losing the Quidditch cup, again, and Ron would be upstairs in the Gryffindor common room celebrating yet another glorious victory with his team.

They ate with gusto, all of them feeling a kind of positive nervous energy, and then Harry stood up and announced it was time to go to the changing rooms and get ready. Susan wandered over from the Hufflepuff table where she had been eating with Hannah Abbott and Ernie MacMillan.

'Good luck, Harry,' she said, smiling at him.

'Thanks,' he said, smiling back, and she kissed him on the lips right there in the Great Hall. The Slytherins immediately burst into a chorus of jeers, but Harry ignored them and continued to kiss Susan.

Ginny cleared her throat. 'Hem, hem,' she muttered, doing her rather unnerving impression of Professor Umbridge.

'Right,' said Harry, looking just slightly red in the face. Susan was smiling and red-faced herself. 'Let's go,' he said, picking up his Firebolt.

'Good luck, Ron,' said Hermione, pecking him on the cheek.

'Oh, come on, Hermione,' said Ron, pouting, 'is that it?'

'Yes,' said Hermione. 'We're prefects. We have to set the--'

'Whatever,' Ron said, kissing her on the lips long enough to earn more jeering from the Slytherin table. 'See you after the match, love.'

Hermione was blushing furiously and she looked like she was angry, but then her mouth broke into a smile.

Ginny rolled her eyes and followed Harry and Ron out. 'You'd think we were about to play a game of Spin the Bottle instead of Quidditch,' she muttered.

The seven Gryffindors reached the changing rooms and put on their Quidditch things, then met inside the Gryffindor tent to discuss tactics. Outside they could hear the trampling feet of students and teachers as they filed into the stands.

'All right, then,' said Harry. 'Most of us know how the Slytherins play. Dirty. They don't care about making fouls so long as they win the match. Don't let your guard down. Seamus, Andrew, I'm counting on the both of you to protect the Chasers, right? If you have to knock a few Slytherins off their brooms, do it. Katie, Ginny, Parvati, keep formations tight; they've got faster brooms and if you go too wide they'll catch you. Don't do a lot of unnecessary passing or showing off-they're good at knocking the Quaffle loose-but if you've got some good evasive maneuvers or feints, use them. Slytherins play with brute force, they've got no finesse whatsoever. Ron, keep doing what you're doing. Don't worry about fouling on them, either. They play dirty, we play a bit dirty.'

'Right!' the rest of the team yelled as one. They clapped hands together and formed a queue, and in the next minute Colin Creevey's amplified voice came blaring across the pitch, announcing the Gryffindor team.

The seven of them marched onto the pitch and met the Slytherins and Madam Hooch, who was carrying the red Quaffle under her right arm.

'Captains, shake hands,' she barked. Harry and Montague, the Slytherin captain, shook hands. Montague was clearly trying to crush Harry's smaller hand in his own huge one, but Harry only smiled at Montague coldly.

'Mount your brooms!' Madam Hooch ordered, and fourteen players climbed onto their brooms. Madam Hooch mounted her own broom, stuck her whistle in her mouth, and hurled the Quaffle up into the air. In the next instant her whistle screeched.

'The game is on!' Colin Creevey yelled. At once Ron swooped up and over to the goal posts. He saw briefly that Katie had caught the Quaffle and was zooming in the direction of the Slytherin goals.

'Bell passes to Ginny Weasley, who passes to Patil--nice feint, Parvati! Patil dodges a Bludger sent by Vincent Crabbe. She shoots, she...MISSES!'

'Damn,' Ron muttered. For a split second it looked as though Parvati had it, but the Slytherin Keeper, Theodore Nott, had managed to block it at the last second.

'Now it's Slytherin in possession; Warrington has the Quaffle. He passes to Montague, Montague back to Warrington and OOH! Warrington takes a Bludger right in the gut. Now it's Weasley with the Quaffle, she passes to Bell, back to Weasley to Patil, back to Weasley, she shoots, she...SCORES! Ten points to Gryffindor!'

'Yeah!' Ron yelled, feeling very proud of his sister right at that moment.

His eyes returned to the game and he continued to make tight loops around the goal hoops, waiting for Slytherin to burst through and come toward him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry circling wide around the pitch. A sudden jerking movement made Ron turn away from the goal posts and stop in place; Harry was clutching at his scar.

'Harry!'

'Warrington with the Quaffle, he's headed for goal, watch out Ron!'

Ron immediately forgot about Harry and swooped around just in time to slap Warrington's shot away with the back of his broom. It had been a narrow miss. Ginny had the Quaffle again.

Ron's eyes scanned for Harry once more; Harry was still circling, still clutching at his scar, but there was a determined look on his face.

And the game went on. Slytherin played as dirty as they ever had. Ron nearly went after Goyle when the Slytherin Beater pelted a Bludger at Ginny and it smacked her hard in the shoulder, but she barked at him that she was okay and kept on playing. Tough girl, indeed, Ron thought. Meanwhile Warrington, Montague and another Slytherin called Blaise Zabini continued to try everything possible to knock the Gryffindor Chasers off their brooms. Seamus and Andrew were smacking Bludgers as hard as they could, and once again Seamus hit a few of them so hard that they smashed, and the game had to be paused to fetch more. Naturally the Slytherins didn't care about this and snatched the Quaffle back and tried to score again, but Madam Hooch, who was flying faster and harder than Ron had ever seen her, blew her whistle and screamed 'Foul!'

The fouls kept on coming; the Gryffindors quickly realized that even playing their hardest wasn't going to win the game, not with all the fouls Slytherin kept perpetrating--there were so many of them that Madam Hooch was unable to keep track of them all. Ron blocked most of his goals but a Bludger caught him in the thigh, smacking him painfully off course, and Warrington managed to hurl the Quaffle through the hoop to score another ten points. The score was now 90 to 80 in Gryffindor's favor.

Harry had circled back to Ron; Ron was alarmed to see that Harry was still clutching at his scar, and now was wincing.

'Harry, what's wrong?' Ron yelled, as he dived and caught the Quaffle once more.

'My scar!' Harry yelled back. 'Something's wrong!'

'Call a time-out!' Ron hollered.

'No!' said Harry fiercely. 'We're finishing this game.' He winced again and gripped his broom tightly with both hands and set off again, his eyes searching for the tiny Snitch.

Ron pelted away a few more goal attempts by the Slytherins when he saw Harry suddenly swerve hard to the right. For the briefest second Ron saw it--the tiny Golden Snitch as it raced away from Harry. Malfoy had seen it, too, and was now speeding after Harry.

Ron missed the next goal, and reminded himself to pay attention to what he was doing instead of worrying about Harry. But his scar is hurting, Ron thought anxiously. Something's not right. But before Ron could brood about this the Quaffle came hurtling at him again. He reached out and caught it, rolling over on his broom in the process and righting himself.

'Nice save by Ron Weasley!' Colin cried happily.

Ron tossed the Quaffle hard to Katie and she set off. Ron's eyes scanned the pitch and he saw Malfoy and Harry flying side by side; Malfoy was ramming Harry repeatedly, trying to knock him off course. Harry's face was screwed up against what Ron knew was the pain in his scar.

Come on, Harry, Ron thought. Get the Snitch and end this thing.

In the next instant, as if hearing Ron's silent plea, Harry's arm reached out, and his fingers--only a few inches in front of Malfoy's grasping ones--caught the Snitch.

'Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup!' Colin shrieked. The stands erupted in cheers. Ron barely heard the screaming as he zoomed down to the pitch to meet Harry, who was holding the Snitch up in his hand and smiling painfully.

'Harry!' Ron yelled, landing hard and jumping off his broom.

'We won, we won!' Ginny shrieked, tackling Ron in a bear hug so hard and fast that he stumbled.

Katie and Parvati were both sobbing and clutching Seamus and Andrew, who grabbed Harry and lifted him onto their shoulders.

'Wait!' Ron called, as Harry clutched at his scar again, but nobody heard him. By now the pitch was filling with screaming Gryffindors all rushing at them. Ron heard snatches of 'Weasley is our King' and chants of 'Potter! Potter!' Harry was being slowly borne away.

'What's wrong with him?' Ginny asked, her eyes following Ron's. 'What's up?'

'Something's not right,' Ron said anxiously. 'Come on, we have to get to him!'

'Ron!' Hermione raced over to him. 'What's wrong with Harry?'

'I dunno,' said Ron. 'Something's up. Let's get back to the common room and--'

But Ron's voice died in his throat. In less than a second, the sky went almost grey and the warm, sunny stadium became icy cold. A new round of screams filled his ears, but these were screams of terror, not triumph. The cold...it was like ice in his veins. It was sickeningly, frighteningly familiar.

'No,' Hermione whispered, shivering.

'Ron!' Ginny shrieked, pointing behind them toward the forest.

Ron whirled around to see where Ginny was pointing, and saw them. Dementors. Hundreds of them, it seemed, floating toward the crowd of students, silent but for their rattling, sucking breathing that he could hear even over the horrified screeching of the crowd.