Harry Potter and the Adventure He Affectionately Calls Life

    Harry watched Professor Dumbledore chatting idly with Professor McGonagall that night at dinner. Harry had chosen to watch Professor Dumbledore instead of paying attention to the amazing feast in front of him. Ron and Lana were arguing over something to his left. Harry wasn't sure what. Next to them, Fred and George were trying to sell some of their candies to some first years, but Harry was to distracted to warn them.
    Only Hermione seemed to notice the fact that Harry was distracted. "Are you alright?" she asked.
    Harry nodded. "I'm fine."
    "Are you sure?"
    Harry smiled sadly. "Honestly! If you would worry about your grades even half as much as you worried about me..." He broke off. "Oh, wait. Never mind."
    "You said that to me when I was upset over Fred and George's teasing. Why can't I return the favor?"
    "Hermione," Harry said in a strange mixture between inexplainable sadness and tension. "I'm okay."
    Defeated, Hermione sighed. "I'll hope you'll talk to me when you're ready."
    "And I hope you'll talk to me when you're ready."
    Hermione noticed that Harry's gaze had never left Dumbledore, not even for a second. "Harry, are you upset that we didn't get to do anything in Defense Against the Dark Arts today?" If Harry said yes, Hermione wouldn't be suprised. Harry adored Professor Dumbledore.
    But Harry just shook his head, staring intently at the headmaster.
    Professor Dumbledore had just coughed up his drink, laughing at something that Professor Flitwick had done. He shook his head, laughing some more.
    Professor Dumbledore, Harry thought. I need to talk to you.

___________________________________________________________________

    Hermione stared at Harry staring at Dumbledore. What's wrong with you, Harry? Why won't you talk to me?
    She leaned over to Ron and Lana. "Hey, guys, what's wrong wtih Harry? He's not eating. He just wants to watch Professor Dumbledore."
    Ron shrugged. "Maybe he's upset that we didn't get to do anything in Defense today."
    Hermione shook her head. "No, that's not it. I already asked."
    "Well," Lana said thoughtfully. "Maybe it's one of those teacher-student things, you know?"
    "Maybe..." Hermione wasn't convinced. "Maybe."
    Professor Dumbledore excused himself, standing up and walking towards the staircase. Harry's eyes followed his every move. When he was out of eyeshot, Harry stood up and walked after him.

___________________________________________________________________

    "Professor Dumbledore?" Harry called. "Professor?" That's funny. I could have sworn I saw him go this way.Â
    He walked to the entrance to the Headmaster's office.
    "Did Professor Dumbledore come up here?" he asked one of the gargoyles guarding the entrance.
    "Maybe."
    "Then again, maybe not," the other one said.
    "Then again, maybe he did."
    "Yeah? Well how do you know he didn't?"
    "How do you know he did?"
    "Yeah?"
    "Yeah."
    "Yeah?"
    "Yeah."
    Harry watched helplessly as the two gargoyles argued back and forth, forgetting Harry.
    "Look," Harry said, frustrated. "I need to see Professor Dumbledore. You have no idea how important it is."
    "How important is it, Harry?" Professor Snape wanted to know.
    "Professor Snape! I needed to ask Professor Dumbledore something."
    "About his Defense Against the Dark Arts class?"
    Harry hesitated. "No."
    "About your new teacher."
    "No."
    Snape raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"
    Harry remained silent.
    "Five points from Gryffindor for loitering about the hallways. And another five for wasting my time."
    "Is that really necesary, Severus?"
    Both Harry and Snape whirled around at the sound of Professor Dumbledore's voice.
    "Headmaster, he was walking around the hallways unattended."
    "Harry's a grown man. He can handle himself. Thank you, Severus, that will be all."
    "You can have your points back," he spat, glaring at Harry.
    "I trust you would have camped out all night waiting for me, is that right, Harry?"
    "No, sir. I would have gotten to class earlier tomorrow. Or stayed later."
    "What is it you need to talk to me about?"
    Harry looked down, unsure of where else to look.
    "Lemon drop. Follow me, Harry."
    For the second time in two days, Harry followed the Headmaster into his office.
    Before he could say anything, Harry said, "I'm sorry."
    "It's okay," Professor Dumbledore said quite simply. "Have a seat. Anything to drink? I noticed you did not eat much at dinner tonight. I noticed you staring at me and figured you better tell me what's on your mind before it starts affecting you."
    "Water, please."
    With a wave of a wand, it was done. "Now what exactly are you apologizing for?"
    Harry felt a wave of shame wash over him. "My behavior."
    "There's nothing wrong with your behavior, Harry."
    "Last year."
    Professor Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully for a minute. "You are referring to your throwing my belongings around at the end of last year."
    Harry nodded.
    "No, Harry, it is I who should apologize. I should not have stopped you. Spring cleaning would be much more pleasant then."
    Harry looked upset. "Seriously," he said. Then, upon hearing the first half of the word, he looked down. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
    "And that is what you have to tell me?"
    Harry nodded.
    "Then it is forgotten. You were upset, Harry. You needed to get it out of your system. Think nothing of it." Professor Dumbledore rumaged through his desk. "Ah-ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "I've found it."
    "Found what?"
    "It." Professor Dumbledore presented Harry with a Hogwarts envelope. "Harry, Sirius Black did not die immediately. He had just enough time to scrawl this letter to you."
    Harry reached for the envelope hungrily. There was a message from Sirius inside.
    Professor Dumbledore held the envelope back. "There is something you must understand. For reason's beyond my knowing, Sirius had a roll of parchment in his robes. But he had no pen or quill."
    Harry frowned, not understanding.
    "His friend Remus was injured that night. The only liquid around was his blood."
    Harry shook his head, confused.
    "This letter to you is written in werewolf blood, Harry. If you open it now, you will see a blank parchment. The letter is only visible during the full moon."
    Harry looked out the window. The sky was dark, brigtened only by a few stars peeking their way through the clouds.
    "The full moon," Professor Dumbledore told him gently but firmly. "Was last night. You'll have to wait twenty-seven days."
    Harry stared at him in disbelief.
    "I can hold onto it for you, or you can take it with you. The choice is yours."
    It took Harry a minute to find his voice. "You hold onto it. It would drive me crazy."
    Professor Dumbledore replaced the letter in his desk.
    Harry looked out the window, wondering what he had done so wrong in life to deserve to have to wait another four weeks to read the letter.

___________________________________________________________________

    Harry sat in his usual arm chair staring into the fire. Lana sat next to him, not saying anything. Clearly, Harry was upset. If he wanted to talk, Lana would listen, although she suspected that the best person to talk to in a situation like this would be Hermione.
    "Lana?" Fred walked into the Common Room. "Harry, can we steal her for a while?"
    "We?" Lana asked.
    "Fine," George said, crossing his arms as he followed behind his twin. "Forget the fact that I exist."
    "I've been doing it for sixteen years," Lana pointed out. "Why would I stop?"
    "She's got a point," George said to his brother, who nodded his agreement.
    "Hi, Harry," Hermoine said quietly as she followed in behind.
    "Herm-erm!" the twins chorused.
    "That's not my name," she retorted, rolling her eyes.
    "Hi, Hermione," Lana said. "You stay; I'll go." She looked to her cousins. "What exactly is it you need help with?"
    "We have a problem."
    "I know."
    "Funny. Not that kind of problem. A real problem. We need help."
    "I know."
    "Lana!" they whined. "We need you."
    "C'mon, Lovely Lana," George said, bowing at her feet. "For family?"
    Rolling her eyes, she huffed out of the Gryffindor Common Room. "C'mon."
    Shrugging, the twins followed Lana, leaving Hermione and Harry to talk.

___________________________________________________________________

    "I'm ready," Hermione announced.
    "For what?"
    "To talk."
    "Okay."
    Hermione sat down.
    "But I'm not."
    Hermione bit her lower lip. She took a deep breath. "Harry," she said, reaching for his hand.
    He recoiled as if her hand was made of white-hot metal.
    "Harry, what's bothering you? Is it the whole plan with Draco? Because I should have checked with you and Lana. I'm sorry."
    "It's not that."
    "Then does it have to do with you staring intently at Dumbledore?"
    "More that than the LanaDraco plan."
    "But you don't want to talk about it yet."
    "Not now." Harry fell silent. "Maybe not ever."
    "What could be so bad that you-"
    "What was it you wanted to talk about again?" Harry said, slightly impaitent. "Because you know I'd listen." He turned around to face her. Hermione gasped at the expression on his face. It was one she had never seen before. Harry looked furious. Hermione knew he wasn't upset at her. He looked upset at the entire world, upset at life. But there was an extreme sorrow in his eyes as well.
    "It's not important."
    "Does it have to do with Ron?"
    "Ron?"
    "Ron. You know, that tall red-head who hangs around us all the time. I think I'm in love with his cousin. His older brothers call you Herm-erm. Does that ring a bell?"
    "Why are you talking about Ron?" Ginny wanted to know. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "I was on my way up to sleep, and I heard you describing Ron, so I thought I would see what's going on?"
    "Nothing," both Hermione and Harry said in unison.
    "Where is Ron, anyway?," Hermione wanted to know.
    "Waiting upstairs for Harry," his sister informed them. "He says it's urgent."
    "I'll be up soon, then," Harry said curtly. "Good-night, Ginny."
    "G'nite, Harry!"
    The two of them were alone again. They sat in awkward silence, each about to make a confession to the other, neither of them willing to be the first.
    Hermione decided to break the silence. "Harry, whatever's bothering you..." She sighed, hesitating. "Maybe you should write to Sirius about it."
    Harry closed his eyes as a fresh wave of pain washed over him. He took the final sip of pumpkin juice from the half-empty goblet by his feet. Standing up, he threw the goblet into the fire.
    Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed, as the metal clanged.
    Harry grabbed Hermione by her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. He looked her straight in the eye. This was not the Harry that Hermione knew, not the Harry that she had come to trust. This Harry brought his face close to hers. Anyone walking in at the moment would have thought he was about to kiss her.
    "Sirius," he said, his voice thick and wavering. "Is dead." He cast her a final look before shoving her back on the arm chair and heading upstairs, his robes billowing behind him.
    Hermione watched him leave, trembling. Who was this stranger in her best friends body? Even though she sat by the warmth of the fire, she felt cold all over.

___________________________________________________________________

    "Hiya, Harry!" Ron greeted him as he came up the stairs. "I just got here a few minutes ago."
    "I know," Harry said frostily.
    "I needed to talk to you."
    "I know."
    "It's kind of important."
    "I. Know."
    "But I don't know where to start."
    Harry sighed.
    "Hey, what's wrong?"
    Harry shook his head. "Nothing."
    "Look, something's bothering you. What's up?"
    "Oh, no! I let my emotions get the best out of me downstairs. Hermione needed to talk to me and I fucked it up."
    "Hermione? What's wrong with Hermione? Is she okay?"
    Harry rolled his eyes skyward. "Jesus, Ron," he said. "Why don't you just kiss her already?"
    Ron opened his mouth in shock. "That's exactly what Lana said!"
    "Really?"
    Ron nodded, still paralyzed by the fact that two of the three people he held closest to his heart had said the same thing. "But I don't like her!" he protested.
    Taking a deep breath, Harry said, "yes you do, Ron. Since the start. And she's liked you, too."
    "Oh yeah?"
    "Do you really want me to list all the evidence?"
    "Well..." he broke off, looking thoughtful. "Just the 'from the start' bit."
    "Oh boy," Harry muttered. "Here we go." He took another deep breath. "At the end of our first year at Hogwarts," he said in the voice of a narrator. "The three of us were trapped in a killer plant we affectionately call Devil's Snare. When you refused to relax, she rolled her eyes skyward and said something about you being stubborn or something. But she rolled her eyes affectionately. Maybe she was glad that we were going to be okay, I don't know. When you were injured by that giant chess piece, she almost cost us the game in running to you to make sure you were okay. In our second year, Hermione was horribly insulted by Malfoy. He called her Mudblood, in case you've forgotten." (Ron muttered, and Harry suspected that he hadn't forgotten.) "Well, you told him to eat slugs. You did it without any hesitation. You were lost and lonely when Hermione was Petrified by the Basilisk. You get all flushed whenever you're around her. You can't keep your eyes off of her, Ron. Lana and I have noticed it. Your brother's have noticed it." He laughed wryly to himself. "And Hermione calls me the most unobvious man on the planet." He rolled his eyes. "You know," he said thoughtfully. "She wanted to talk to me before, just while we were downstairs. I think she was going to tell me that she liked you. It wouldn't have surprised me at all, you know."
    Ron was quiet. "So how do I do it?"
    "Do what?"
    "Kiss her?"
    Despite the events that had occurred downstairs, Harry felt himself grinning. "You do like her!"
    "Well," Ron said, blushing. "Maybe a little."
    "Who? Hermione?" Seamus asked, walking into the room. "If by 'a little' you mean 'you just want to take her in your arms and make her yours right there and then,' well, yeah. I guess you like her. A little."
    "Seamus, could you give us a minute?"
    Seamus shrugged. "No problem. Ten minutes enough?"
    "That's fine," Harry said thankfully. "Thanks."
    "Well...?"
    Harry laughed. "I'm hardly the expert. But sit by the fire in the Common Room. Or ask her to meet you in a secluded section of the library or something. I don't know."
    The two fell into a moment of silence. Ron laughed. "I guess ten minutes was more than enough, huh?" He sighed, flopping back on his bed and folding his arms behind him as an extra pillow. "Hermione Granger," he said dreamily. "What have you done to me?"
    "Hermione!" Harry got up. "Sorry to cut this short, Ron, but I have to talk to her."
    "Wait a minute," Ron said, sitting him down again. "You're not going to tell her are you?"
    Harry looked at him like he had eight heads. "Shit, no! That's your job. But it is important."
    "Okay." He stepped aside. "I release you," he said grandly.
    Harry got up and bolted out of the room.

___________________________________________________________________

    Hermione was still sitting, trembling, when she heard Harry call her name. "Yes?" she said, wiping her tears.
    "Hermione, I am so, so, sorry." He hugged her tightly. "I didn't mean to lose my temper so much."
    "Oh, Harry, it's okay," she said, lacing her arms around his neck to hold him close. "Sirius is really...?"
    Harry nodded.
    "Does Ron know?"
    Harry shook his head. "I'll tell him when the time is right."
    "Okay." She stepped away from him. "You should get some sleep."
    "So should you."
    "I was hoping you would come down. I needed to ask you a favor."
    "Anything."
    Hermione stared at him, unsure of what to do or how to do it. Summoning all her courage, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him.
    Harry stared at her. This was his best friend. Surely she knew that he was involved with Lana. Surely she knew that he saw her strictly platonically...
    ...Right?
    "Give that to Ron for me," Hermione said, smiling shyly before leaving him alone.
    "Why don't you give it to him yourself," he called to her as she headed up the stairs.
    "G'nite, Harry!"

___________________________________________________________________

    He's doing it on purpose, Hermione thought. He's avoiding eye-contact with me on purpose. Harry sat sandwiched between Hermione and Lana at breakfast the next morning, Ron sitting across the table so they could play Wizard's Chess.
    "Knight to A-6," Ron said, laughing as Harry's pawn was slaughtered.
    "Ron, Ron, Ron," Lana shook her head. "You sick bastard. You always found those funny."
    The pawn whimpered. "Mommy...!"
    Hermione gritted her teeth in frustration. She needed to talk to Harry. She needed to talk to him alone, and she needed to do it soon. Bending backwards, she tapped Lana on the shoulder.
    She turned around. "What?" she mouthed.
    Hermione pointed to Ron, who was fully engrossed in the game. "You," she mouthed. "Take Ron." She pointed to the staircase. "Away."
    Lana nodded. She held up a finger. "In a minute."
    Hermione nodded back.
    "Queen to D-8." Harry's Queen moved. "Check."
    Lana sighed.
    "Yes, Lana?" Ron asked, not looking up.
    "Ron, I need to talk to you."
    "About what?"
    "Please?"
    "Later," he said absent-mindedly. "After I whip Harry's sorry ass in this game."
     "I'm winning," Harry pointed out.
    Lana sighed. "Ron! It's important! And I swear, it's not another bad hair day crisis."
    Ron rolled his eyes. "Cool it, Lana." He concentrated on the game. "Knight to C-7." He laughed as another one of Harry's pawns was killed.
    "Ron, that was the most useless move you could have made," Lana said, rolling her eyes. "Now Harry won."
    "Yeah, but I got to kill another piece."
    Harry laughed. "Queen to F-6."
    Even Hermione watched as Ron's King threw his crown at Harry's Queen's feet. He spat on it.
    "Alright, Lana. I'm coming."
    Hermoine shot Lana a thankful look as they exited.
    Harry stood up to leave, too. Hermione grabbed the collar of his robes. "Oh no you don't. You've avoided me all morning."
    Harry sat back down. "Hermione," he sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."
    "Well I do. What exactly happened that night?"
    Harry closed his eyes, trying to block out the memories. "Sirius fell behind the veil. Lupin tried to stop me, he told me that he was gone and that there was nothing I could do..." Harry sighed deeply, trying to keep himself in control. "But I don't know what exactly happened. Dumbledore told me last year, but I was to upset to pay attention. Anyway, after Voldemort showed up, I forgot about everything. I mean, I was furious that Sirius was gone. Sometime while I was fighting Voldemort, Lupin jumped after Sirius. Sirius wasn't dead; he was horrible injured. Lupin injured himself, too. Sirius wrote a final letter to me in Lupin's blood before he died. But the letter was written in werewolf blood, visible only on the full moon. Twenty-six days from today. Sirius died, and I don't know what Lupin did with the body."
    "Oh, Harry," Hermione said sympathetically. "I'm so sorry."
    "I don't want pity."
    "Ron'll be heartbroken."
    "Ron's not going to find out."
    "What?!" Hermione stared at him like he had eight heads. She shook her head. "Harry, you have to tell him."
    "How?" Harry snapped. "'Hey, Ron, guess what? Sirius is dead. Let's have a game of Wizard's chess.' And even if I did tell him, when would I do it?" He stood up, walking out of the room, Hermione right behind him.
    "I don't know how. And I don't know when. All I know is that you just have to do it."
    "You seem to be forgetting one crucial thing, Hermione. I don't have to do anything."
    "If you don't tell Ron," Hermione threatened. "Then I will."
    "You wouldn't dare," Harry said, knowing full well that she would.

___________________________________________________________________

Â

    Harry went back to the boys dormitory to try and catch some sleep before his first class. Herbology. He was tempted to not go. He was so tired.
    The first thing Harry saw was a lump on his bed. He frowned, walking closer. Lana lay on her back, eyes closed.
    "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," Harry said, smiling.
    Lana didn't move. In fact, Harry would have thought she was sleeping if the corners of her mouth hadn't turned up in a very small smile.
    Harry felt his mood lift slightly. He bent down and kissed her forehead.
    Lana's tiny grin grew ever so slightly.
    "Sleeping Beauty needed a kiss. That's what I gave you. Why won't you wake up?"
    Lana stiffened stubbornly.
    "You're really something, Lana Weasley, you know that?" He kissed her, fuller and longer than before.
    "I could wake up to that every morning," Lana said, opening her eyes and stretching.
    "Too bad. I'm not allowed in the girls room."
    "Why?"
    Harry sighed sadly. "Last year. I got upset, and I went in. Sexual assault on three of the first years." Harry winked.
    Lana's eyes widened. "No!" she exclaimed, pretended to be shocked.
    Harry nodded gravely. "Yes."
    "Well, I guess I'll have to wake you up instead," she said, pulling him next to her.
    Harry sighed. Lost in Lana's kisses, he could temporarily forget his problems.
    Harry briefly heard footsteps heading upstairs.
    "Buzz off, Ron," Lana said, slightly annoyed.
    Ron appeared in the doorway. He looked disgusted. "Ugh. You guys, get a room."
    Lana pushed Harry away from her. "What does this look like? The kitchen?"
    "Well, I'll leave. But Harry, I expect you to return the favor."
    "You kiss Hermione first, then we'll talk."
    "That's why I came to find you."
    Harry sat up. "You kissed her?"
    "Uh... no. Hermione said you had to talk to me."
    "Damn that girl," Harry muttered underneath his breath. "But I guess she's right." Harry's carefree mood had disappeared.
    "I'll see you later?" Lana asked, looking slightly disappointed?
    "Yeah. Later." He made no move to walk her downstairs or to kiss her good-bye.
    "So what it is?" Ron asked, plopping down on his bed.
     "What exactly did Hermione tell you?"
    "Not much. She said it was serious."
    At least she didn't lie, Harry thought wryly. He sighed. "Ron, she didn't mean 'serious.' She meant Sirius."
    "Your godfather."
    Harry winced. He nodded.
    "Well? What is it?"
    "You're going to hear it eventually. May as well hear it from me than from Hermione." Harry sighed.
    "What about Sirius?" Ron frowned, concerned. "Is he okay?"
    "He's dead," Harry said bluntly.
    "What?"
    "He's dead."
    "Wait a minute, Harry. You can't be serious."
    "Dammit, Ron. I said he was dead, okay?"
    Ron was taken aback. "When? How?" He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? How long has Hermoine known?"
    "I told her last night. I was going to put of telling you for as long as I could. She said that if I didn't tell you, then she would."
    "Oh." It was all Ron could think of to say. "How did it happen?"
    Harry closed his eyes, trying to remember what he had told Hermione, to mentally drained to repeat it. "Sirius... fell behind the veil that night. And Lupin, well, he tried to stop me. He told me that he was gone. He said that there was nothing I could do!" Harry looked angry. "I could have saved him, Ron. I could have saved him." Harry sighed. "I don't know all the details. Dumbledore tried to tell me last year, but I was to upset to pay attention, and I think I'm better off not knowing, quite honestly. Anyway, after Voldemort showed up, I forgot about everything. The only thing I knew was that Sirius was gone. Sometime while I was fighting Voldemort, Lupin jumped after Sirius. Sirius wasn't dead; he was horrible injured. Lupin injured himself, too. Sirius wrote a final letter to me in Lupin's blood before he died. What the hell Sirius was doing with parchment, I don't know." He shook his head, sighing. "Anyway, the letter was written in werewolf blood. It's only visible during a full moon. And guess when that is? Twenty-six long days from today. Twenty-six. But the fact is that Sirius died. And worst of all, Lupin won't tell me what he's done with the body."
    "Oh my God! He's dead!" Ron looked away. He shook his head. "This must be impossible for you."
    "It is," Hermione said from the doorway. Neither Ron nor Harry had noticed that she had been listening in. "Look at him, Ron. He won't admit it to us, but it's killing him inside." She walked over and sat down next to Ron.
    "Hermione," Harry acknowledged.
    "Harry, we're here for you. Now and forever. You don't have to hide anything from us." Hermione's tone of voice was gentle yet firm.
    "What she said," Ron said, nodding his head in Hermione's direction.
    "Harry," Hermione said firmly. "Ron had to know."
    "I know."
    "You guys!" Neville came rushing in. "Hermione! You missed Herbology!"
    Hermione whirled around. She looked at the grandfather clock in the boys dormitory. "Oh my God!"
    "'Oh my God' is correct, Miss Granger. And Mr Weasley. And Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall tsked. "Fifteen points will be taken away from Gryffindor. Each."
    The three of them groaned.
    "Unless of course, you would care to tell me what exactly was so important that you had to skip Professor Sprout's class?"
    Ron and Hermione looked at Harry.
    "Nothing," he said, looking down. "Nothing."
    Professor McGonagall nodded, narrowing her eyes at Harry. "Very well, then.  Your next class starts in five minutes. I trust you will be going to Potions?"
    No shit, Harry thought.  Why would I be stupid enough to skip Snape's class.
    "Yes, Professor McGonagall," Neville said. "I was just coming to get them."
    "Well, thank you, Mr. Longbottom. Take five points." She looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "That will be all."

___________________________________________________________________

    Lana was glad to see that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had worked out whatever problem they had. She crossed "let Harry, Ron, and Hermione make up" off her mental checklist. Next item: get dork-headed cousin to kiss Hermione. Lana watched the three of them enter the Potions classroom, Harry in the middle. She sighed. This isn't going to be easy.
    "Ron, because you cut my Harry time short today, I get to work with Harry."
    Ron shrugged. "Okay. Then I'll work with Hermione."
    "Hey, Lana," Draco said, leaning on the wall next to her. "I need a partner. Crabbe and Goyle are working together."
    "Sorry, Draco," Lana said, genuinely apologetic. "I'm working with Harry."
    "Potter and Weasley always work together."
    "Yeah, but today they're not," Lana said simply.
    "So when are you going to work with me? After we graduate?"
    "Not quite that early."
    Shocked at the quick comeback, Draco cast Harry an evil look and left.
    "Lana!" Ron lectured. "You broke his heart."
    "He'll live."
    "You broke his heart!"
    "I'll break every bone in your body if you don't shut up," Lana threatened lightly.
    Professor Snape walked into the room at the moment. "Settle down," he mumbled. Scanning the room to take attendence, he commented on the change of partners. "Well, well, well. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have broken up. And it seems that Mr. Weasley has been replaced by his cousin." He sneered. "Mr. Potter, something that the class should know?"
    "Yes," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Ron and Hermione are working together."
    "Clearly."
    Draco snickered.
    Needless to say, Potions was a unique experience.

___________________________________________________________________

    Harry bounced in his seat as Potions drew to an end.
    "Something wrong, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape asked, as if he actually cared.
    "Nope," Harry smiled happily. "I'm fine."
    "What's up?" Lana whispered.
    "Defense Against the Dark Arts next." It took a lot of self control for him not to scream it out.
    "Mr. Potter, would you stay after class, please?"
    "Sorry, Professor, I have class."
    Professor Snape was about to object, but the class was over.
    "Bye, professor!"
    Lana high-fived him as soon as they were out of eyeshot. "That was great."
    Suddenly thunder struck. "Excellent!" Harry exclaimed. "I love thunderstorms. Especially summer thunderstorms. They're gorgeous."
    Lana nodded her agreement.
    "Hey, after Defense Against the Dark Arts, why don't we go outside for a while?" Harry suggested. "You. Me. Rain." He shrugged. "It could be fun."
    "Sure," Lana said, eyes downcast. For some reason beyond her knowing, she was shy. "I would love to."
    "Cool."
    No words were needed as Harry took Lana's hand and they left the dungeon in unison.
    Ron had been waiting for Hermione as Harry and his cousin made plans. Thunderstorms, huh? Hermione hates thunderstorms. In his minds eye, he could see Hermione with him standing next to a window. A loud clap of thunder struck, startling Hermione. Scared, she threw her arms around him, her face buried in his chest. Ron pictured her looking up, her cheeks turning into a rosy pink. That would be the time to kiss her, a long, lingering kiss that Hermione would never forget.
    Thunderstorms, huh?