Power of Love

CHAPTER 2 - THE BEST LAID PLANS

The Great Hall was bustling at lunchtime, and Harry was animatedly repeating to the group at the table a hilarious account of Zacharias Smith, a Chaser on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, being flattened by a Bludger while he was showing off for Eleanor Branstone. He paused only briefly to put his name down on a list that was handed to him and he absently passed it along to Ron. Ron studied the parchment. It was a list of all those who would be staying at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays. Not very many people were staying - Harry, and a couple of second years so far. Ron passed the list to the next person and continued eating his lunch with great gusto, as he usually did.

Five minutes later Ron got up from the table and picked up his bag. "I've got to run back to the dormitory - I forgot that I ran out of ink," he told Harry. Harry was about to tell him he had an extra bottle in his bag, but Ron had already gone.

Ron breezed into Potions class just as Snape was entering the dungeon to begin the lesson. Harry had already partnered with Justin Finch-Fletchley, so Ron slid into the empty seat next to Millicent Bulstrode who eyed him with obvious distrust. Well, he could manage to be civil to Millicent for a couple of hours. Besides, they were working on a very complicated potion today, and he and Harry would both need their wits about them.

Snape walked around the room offering words of encouragement to the Slytherins and criticizing anything he could find wrong with all the other students. He stopped in front of Harry and glared directly into his eyes. Ron heard him drawl, "Isn't it intriguing, Mr. Potter, that my private stores of potions ingredients were broken into yesterday? And no one seems to know where you were, Potter."

"I was at Quidditch practice in the afternoon, then at dinner and then at the library, sir. Loads of people saw me. What would I want with your stuff anyway?" Harry's voice was very calm, almost as if he'd just been awakened from a deep sleep.

"It just so happens that the missing ingredients comprise the antidote to the next potion we will be brewing. Given your abysmal performance in this class, I know exactly why you would want them." Snape continued to eye Harry suspiciously and with the utmost contempt. Suddenly, Snape pointed his wand at Harry and said, "Legilimens." Most of the class stopped what they were doing to watch. Snape was obviously performing some kind of a curse on Harry, who was looking quite serene and contented. "Finite," Snape muttered after a minute or so, his eyes narrowed and his lips curled with hatred. Just before he stormed off to his private storeroom he shouted to the class, "Get back to work, all of you."

"What did he just do to you?" Justin asked Harry, looking very distressed.

"He tried to search my mind to see if I was lying to him. I think he's angry because I wouldn't let him do it." Harry calmly went back to chopping his roots as if nothing had happened. Ron noticed that he was grinning, though.

After class, Ron waited at the door for Harry and Hermione. "That was brilliant, Harry," Ron said as they walked up the dungeon stairs. "I reckon you're really getting the hang of Occlumency now."

"I don't know," Harry answered. "I can do all right when I'm not very upset or emotional. It was very easy back there because I knew I was innocent and he was just trying to goad me into doing something stupid. It's much harder if I'm worked up about something."

Hermione said, "Honestly, Snape just keeps getting worse every year. I don't know why he insisted on accusing you when half the class knew it was Malfoy who stole the potions ingredients and they tried to pin it on you. They as much told me so."

"Holding a bit of a grudge, aren't they?" commented Ron. "It's not your fault that Malfoy stinks at Quidditch or that his dad got landed in Azkaban."

"Well, technically, I think it was my fault his dad got caught. But you're right. He's working a little too hard to get me in trouble this year. With all the success he's had, you'd think he'd back off."

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione spoke the password and they climbed through the portrait hole. The common room was deserted. They sat in their favorite armchairs by the fire, but none of them got out their homework.

Hermione said, "Okay, you two. Now that we're alone, tell me what's going on." She looked from Harry to Ron and back to Harry.

"Nothing's going on," Ron replied. "What are you talking about?"

"You two are plotting something, I just know it. You've been whispering to each other and wandering off together for weeks. If you're preparing for your next big adventure, I want in on it. Just because I'm Head Girl doesn't mean I'm not willing to bend a few rules in order to help in the war effort." She looked at each of them again, her gaze demanding answers and her face resolute.

"Hermione," answered Harry, "I swear we're not scheming. We'd never exclude you - you know that."

"So what's with all the secrecy?" asked Hermione.

"Er, we've been skiving off work more than we should, and we didn't want you to yell at us," Ron said. Harry shot him a look to stop talking.

Harry decided this would be a good time to fill them in on everything Dumbledore had told him about the pending war, so he started talking. Voldemort had gathered the Giants, the Dementors and Vampires on his side, while the Ministry had successfully kept the Goblins from joining him for the time being. At Harry's request, Dumbledore had kept the details of his plan from Harry because he was not sure he was proficient enough at Occlumency to keep Voldemort from learning them.

"Dumbledore has a plan," Harry told them, "and I don't know what it is, but he seems to think the time for action is approaching soon. There are certain things he wants me to learn, but he's not telling me why. Hermione, I'm sure that when the time comes, he'll need you involved, and you too, Ron."

Harry knew a bit more of the plan than he let on, but that was not necessary for Ron and Hermione to know. They would just worry if they knew Harry was going to be the one to attempt the actual killing of Voldemort. He'd never told them he knew what was in the prophecy that broke during their fifth year. Although he'd spent his entire sixth year being angry, Harry was now resigned to his fate, and Dumbledore was working tirelessly to prepare him for the task at hand by giving him extra lessons and finding tutors to teach him what he would need to know. Ron and Hermione knew about his extra work, but they had no idea that by the end of the year he'd know more Defense Against Dark Arts magic than most wizards in the country. As far a Harry could tell, Dumbledore was waiting for one more piece of the puzzle to come into play before making a preemptive move against Voldemort. But he had told Harry time and again to put the war out of his mind and focus on his studies, his friends and making the most of his time at Hogwarts.

A group of second years came into the common room, and Hermione decided it was too noisy to study there. She tried to convince Harry and Ron to go to the library with her, but they weren't moving. "We've got the good chairs, Hermione. We're not going to give them up for the drafty old library," Ron said finally.

Ron watched her exit through the portrait hole and surveyed the room. The late afternoon sun was streaming through the windows, casting long shadows across the worn carpet. Harry was surveying Ron with interest, watching his every movement, like a cat ready to pounce when the bird was least expecting it. "Do you want to study or skive off?" Ron asked Harry tentatively.

"I think you know the answer to that." Harry paused. Ron could tell he was struggling to avoid talking about what he wanted to do instead of study. "I guess we should work on that essay for McGonagall, though. It's due tomorrow and I haven't started mine yet."

"You know, Harry," Ron blurted out, "we're going to have to say something about us to Hermione eventually, or she'll figure it out."

"How about we wait and see if there's anything to tell her," Harry shot back.

Ron could hear bitterness in his voice that was rarely there. It stung him. For all the insecurities Ron was working through, he'd forgotten that by being open with Ron about his feelings, Harry had put himself in an extremely vulnerable position and wouldn't wait there forever. Weasley, you're such a jerk, he thought angrily.

"Not 'if', Harry, 'when'," Ron answered, trying to be reassuring.

"What d'you mean?" asked Harry, anxiously.

Ron glanced around the room to see that no one was listening. "I've gotten over the initial shock and am ready to, er, move forward, but there are a few bits I haven't quite worked out yet."

"When you say 'move forward' are you talking about, you know, everything?" Ron was pretty sure that Harry was talking about sex, as Harry's eyes were now big as saucers and starting to glisten with excitement.

"Well, to be honest, that's the bit I haven't worked out yet..." Ron stopped speaking as a group of first year girls entered the room, suddenly saw Harry and started to giggle. "Oh, come on. We can't have a decent conversation here - your groupies will be all over you in a minute."

Harry and Ron went up to their dormitory, but Neville was lying on his bed, reading a book called 101 Uses for Household Fungi. "A walk around the lake?" Harry suggested.

"Only if you wear your heavy cloak and promise not to faint," answered Ron. They put on their cloaks, told Neville they'd see him at dinner, and left the castle.

The beautiful late autumn sunshine was warm on their skin, although it was fading fast and they knew it would be dark before they returned to the castle. There was a light breeze causing ripples on the lake, but the Giant Squid was nowhere to be seen. In fact, it was eerily quiet except for the sound of their footsteps crushing the dry leaves. Neither boy said much for a long time. When they got to the spot where Harry had collapsed in November, Ron pointed it out saying, "You were here...no, facing this way I think, and I tripped over you and landed about right...here."

"Stop talking about it, Ron. It's making me cold. Anyway, you were going to tell me what you've decided about us. That is why we came out here, isn't it?" Now that they were out of view of the castle, Harry took hold of Ron's hand, and they continued walking.

Ron shared his musings of the past several weeks. He tried to explain that as the youngest of six brothers, he was constantly teased, and he had learned over his seventeen years never to voluntarily give them the least bit of ammunition. He talked about being unable to control his feelings when Harry was around, and how that made him nervous. Finally, he talked about the need for secrecy, and how they'd both be miserable if anyone found out about them.

Harry understood the first two points, but was indignant on the last one. "Why should I even care if anyone finds out about us," he steamed. "I've always stood up for you, and I'm proud to be with you so if people don't like it, it's their problem."

"Harry," interrupted Ron, "you have to look at the bigger picture. What do you think would happen if Malfoy found out about us? Who would be the first person he'd tell?"

"I don't know," conceded Harry. "Crabbe or Goyle, probably."

"Maybe, but I'm sure it wouldn't take five minutes before he sent an owl off to Rita Skeeter, who would blab to the Daily Prophet, or Witch Weekly. I mean, Harry, you've got to face facts. You're famous, and people love to read about your love life, even if it's made up. And how much better could it be for the tabloids than to find out that the famous Harry Potter is shagging his school chum!"

"I guess I didn't think about it that way," admitted Harry.

"Well, at least one of us is still thinking with his brain," grinned Ron.

Harry stopped and turned towards Ron. He stood close enough so that Ron could feel the steam his breath made as it met the cold air. "All right, since you're the clever one, tell me how we're going to be together and keep it from everyone. You can't expect me to keep my hands off you forever. I already feel like I should be canonized for behaving myself for this long."

Dusk had fallen, and they were on the far side of the lake. Their lips met and all of Ron's resolve to put off any physical relationship with Harry until he had a workable plan was suddenly thrown out the window. I need him, thought Ron. I need this. How thick would I have to be to walk away from Harry?

* * * * *

Harry and Ron arrived late to breakfast the next morning, having stayed up until the wee hours of the morning finishing their Transfiguration essays. Although Hermione had been an excellent influence on their study habits, it was impossible to concentrate when the object of one's affection was sitting across the table sucking on the end of his quill. They had barely sat down when the owl post arrived. Ron looked up to see Pig fluttering about the Great Hall, toting a rolled-up piece of parchment. As soon as he came within arm's reach, Ron snatched him out of the air, chastising the small owl again for being a show-off.

Ron removed the parchment from his owl and scanned it quickly. He smiled and stuffed the letter into his bag.

"Who's it from?" asked Harry.

"Mum." Ron didn't elaborate, which made Harry suspicious. Ron was not usually smiling when he received letters from his mum because they were nearly always prompted by some bit of mischief Ron had gotten into.

Double Transfiguration was almost intolerable, since they'd had far too little sleep and were simply not interested in knowing how to turn sheep into blankets. Harry seriously doubted that he'd ever be in a situation where he had a sheep on hand but needed a blanket instead. However, Hermione kept prodding him with her wand to wake him up, so he figured he needed to stay awake for his own safety.

As they gathered to leave, Ron said, "You two go on ahead. I need to speak to Professor McGonagall for a minute." He watched them exit the classroom and headed to the front.

"What is it, Mr. Weasley?" asked Professor McGonagall as he approached her desk.

"Professor, I received a letter from my parents this morning, and they've given me permission to stay here over the holidays. Can I still add my name to the list?" Ron handed her the parchment and she read it carefully.

"Yes, this seems to be in order. And Ginny, will she be staying also?"

"No, Professor. Just me."

Professor McGonagall handed the letter back to Ron and said, "Very well. I shall add your name to the list."

Ron walked calmly out of the Transfiguration classroom, but as soon as he reached the hallway he pumped his fist and said, "Yes!" loudly enough so that a couple of first-years turned around to gawk at him. Ron didn't care, though. This was the best news he'd had in days. His brilliant plan was starting to come together. He thought he'd keep the news from Harry for another week or so as a surprise. After all, they still had nearly two weeks of classes before the holidays and Harry, at least, would be able to get some work done.

* * * * *

As it turned out, though, the next week was so busy that they had hardly any time to themselves. Many of their teachers chose to give exams, since they felt the last week of classes before the holidays was useless. Harry had three tutoring lessons for extra Defense Against the Dark Arts and it was a Hogsmeade weekend.

On Saturday, Harry, Ron and Hermione set off together for Hogsmeade, discussing on the way which shops they wanted to visit. They agreed that they would need to split up after lunch, since they had presents to buy for each other. They spent the morning at the usual spots: Zonko's, Dervish and Banges and, of course, Honeydukes. At Gladrags Wizardwear, Harry bought Dobby some bright red socks with pictures of different colored socks on them. On a whim, he decided to buy a pair of black wool socks for Professor Dumbledore as a joke. Dumbledore had once told him his deepest desire was a pair of thick woolen socks.

They entered The Three Broomsticks and found it packed with Hogwarts students, but there was a small empty table near the back. As they approached it, they saw Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein and a few other Ravenclaw boys at the next table. Hermione waved enthusiastically at them as they sat down. Harry was about to go up to the bar to place their orders, but Madam Rosmerta was already on her way over, smiling at him broadly. On one of his Hogsmeade visits last year, Harry had asked her about his father and Sirius Black, and she'd spent nearly two hours regaling them with as many stories as she could remember about them. Since then, she had been especially friendly to him. She took their orders and was back in a flash, but was too busy to sit with them today.

When they finished, Hermione set off to do her solo shopping. Harry and Ron were debating whether to have another butterbeer or head out themselves when they heard Anthony Goldstein say "Hermione Granger." They immediately stopped talking and listened intently to the rest of the conversation.

"Well at least she's smarter than the rest of those giggling Gryffindor girls," Terry Boot was saying. "Remember she did that Protean Charm for the D.A. as a fifth-year?"

"Yeah," interrupted a boy they recognized as a fifth-year, "but if you make her angry, you might end up with the word "JERK" written across your face a la Marietta Edgecombe." Everyone at the table laughed, remembering how Marietta had ratted on the D.A. to Professor Umbridge and ended up with the word "SNEAK" across her face for three days before Madam Pomfrey figured out how to remove it.

Anthony said, "Marietta deserved what she got though, didn't she? Anyway, about Hermione, do you think she's dating anyone?"

"Not that I know of," answered Terry. "I'm sure Padma could find out from Parvati though. Or," he motioned to Ron and Harry's table, "we could just ask them."

"Ask us what?" said Harry, turning around. "Sorry, couldn't help but overhear you."

"Oh. Well...I was just wondering if Hermione is dating anyone right now," stammered Anthony shyly.

"No. No she's not. Why? Are you going to ask her out?" asked Harry, a little too enthusiastically.

"Er, you two aren't..." Anthony started to ask hesitantly.

"No. Never have, despite rumors to the contrary. She's too much like the sister I never had."

"And...him?" asked Anthony, pointing to Ron.

Harry grinned. "Oil and water. One date, lasted forty-five minutes. But don't read anything into that. I'm sure you wouldn't insult her."

"I can't believe you're still taking her side on that," piped up Ron. "How was I supposed to know she was winding me up? I thought she had it coming!" Everyone laughed at Ron's righteous indignation.

Harry continued, "Really, Anthony, she's a lovely girl. You're probably one of the few people at Hogwarts who is in her league. Go ahead and ask her out."

"Yes," replied Anthony, "I think I will. But don't say anything to her, all right? I'm not sure when I'll find the time."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Ron, and Harry nodded.

Several minutes later they were walking out of The Three Broomsticks with another piece of their plan in place. If Hermione were to start dating Anthony, she wouldn't have time to notice that they weren't paying as much attention to her. Now all they had to do was to get Hermione to buy into the program. They went as far as Dervish and Banges together and then separated.

Ron had just finished his shopping when he met Ginny and her friends outside the post office. "Ginny!" he said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said and they stepped away from the group. "I suppose you want to borrow more money..." she started.

"No, but thanks again. I'm totally broke now, but I got everything I wanted. I was wanting to ask you how well you know Anthony Goldstein."

"Fairly well, I guess. He is good friends with Michael Corner, and I got to know him a couple of years ago." Ginny was eyeing him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Do you think Hermione would go out with him?" asked Ron anxiously.

"Playing matchmaker now, are you? Don't you have enough trouble with your own love life?" teased Ginny.

"Get off it, Gin," Ron said. "He just mentioned he wanted to ask her out, and I was thinking it was about time she dated someone nice..."

"Nicer than you?" interrupted Ginny, laughing. "Well, I can assure you he'd never call her a..."

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh. I've already been humiliated by that story once today. Rub it in, why don't you."

"Sorry, but you did set yourself up for that one. I tell you what - I'll put in a good word for Anthony. But it will be up to Hermione to decide whether she wants to go out with him."

"Thanks Ginny," said Ron. "Oh, one other thing..." Ginny, who had started to leave, turned back to face him. "I've decided to stay here for Christmas. Mum and Dad said it was okay. But don't say anything to Harry yet. It's kind of a surprise."

"Why don't you ask Harry to come to the Burrow? I'm sure it would be fine."

"Can't. He needs to stay near Dumbledore. Hardly anyone else is staying, and I don't want him to be here all alone." Ron could feel his face flush, and he hoped Ginny would just think he was cold.

"Boy, the two of you are practically joined at the hip, aren't you? If I didn't know you better, Ron, I'd really be wondering."

"Very funny, Gin. Go pick on your friends now, would you?" he retorted. As he started towards Honeydukes, where he was to meet Harry and Hermione, he thought, Oh Ginny, you don't know me at all.

* * * * *

With so many people skiving off their studies the last few days of the term, Ron and Harry could hardly find a moment alone together. Harry kept sighing heavily and wondering aloud what he'd do for two weeks without Ron. Ron would answer, "Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something," or "It will be a good chance to catch up on your homework." Finally, on the last day of classes, Ron thought the time was right to spring his surprise on Harry. Ron watched Dean and Seamus walk out of the portrait hole together, while Hermione and Neville were discussing Neville's research on the mumbulus Mimbletonia. Then he literally pulled a very confused Harry up to their dormitory.

"What's going on?" asked Harry, rubbing his arm ruefully.

Ron sat on his bed and motioned for Harry to join him. "I thought I ought to tell you about one of your Christmas presents."

Harry's eyes lit up with anticipation. "It's a little early, isn't it?"

"Okay," teased Ron. "I was going to tell you, but now I'll wait..."

"No, Ron, tell me what it is!"

"I'm staying at Hogwarts for the holidays!" If Ron was bursting with excitement, it was no comparison to Harry's reaction. Sure, Harry had been shamelessly dropping hints that he'd like Ron to stay, but he never imagined Ron would actually do it! The delightful expression on Harry's face reminded Ron of when they were eleven on their first Christmas morning together and he discovered he had gotten presents.

Harry threw his arms around Ron and growled, "This is going to be great. You and me...we're going to be incredible."

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" Ron couldn't remember ever saying anything that brought this much joy to someone. He was so pleased to have been able to make Harry so happy. Harry's gratitude and sheer delight at being able to have Ron to himself for a couple of weeks would far outweigh any other gift he might receive that Christmas. And Harry's embrace reminded him of other things he had to look forward to.

Harry was in such a good mood from then on that it seemed to be contagious. As he, Ron and Hermione strode past the Slytherins to enter the Great Hall for dinner, Hermione spat, "Stuff it, Malfoy," at him before he even had a chance to get his customary insult out.

Ginny sat on Ron's other side at dinner, and halfway through the pudding she whispered to him, "I don't think Anthony will have any problem getting Hermione to accept a date. She already likes him."

"Thanks, Gin - you're the best!" said Ron, happily. He relayed Ginny's information to Harry, who nodded to indicate he'd take care of the rest. He watched Harry casually lean over to the Ravenclaw table and whisper something to Anthony, who was sitting directly behind him.

After dinner, the Gryffindor common room was buzzing with energy now that classes were done for the holidays. People were tearing in and out of the dormitories packing their things to leave, while several games of Exploding Snap were taking place simultaneously, making conversation difficult. Glancing up from an issue of Which Broomstick, Ron noticed a stunned look on Harry's face and followed his gaze to the girls' dormitory staircase. There stood Hermione, looking as beautiful as Ron could ever remember seeing her. Her clothes were casual but stylish, her hair was smooth and caught up in a tasteful clip at the nape of her neck, and she was carrying her cloak. She saw them ogling her and crossed the room with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Hermione," said Ron, with his eyes practically bulging out of his head, "you look...really nice! Going somewhere?"

"Just going out for a walk on the grounds. Nothing special," she said mysteriously, her eyes twinkling like Dumbledore's did when he was amused.

"Nothing special, my arse," choked Harry. He turned to Ron, "You'll notice she doesn't rush to do herself up like this when we ask her to take a walk. So who's the lucky bloke, Hermione?"

"Anthony Goldstein."

Ron grinned, "Oh, poor Anthony. He doesn't know what he's in for. Maybe Harry and I should go along to chaperone - for Anthony's protection, of course."

Hermione pretended to be cross, even though they could both see she was very pleased at the positive response to her efforts. "Don't you come anywhere near us, Ron Weasley, or I'll try out one of those new hexes we've been learning in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"She's not kidding, Ron," joined in Harry. "I've been on the receiving end of some of those hexes." To Hermione he said, "Seriously, Hermione, have a great time tonight, but be careful. It's expecting a lot to think he'll be able to keep his hands off you."

"Honestly, this is Anthony Goldstein we're talking about, not Justin Finch-Fletchley. You two are terrible - now I can see why Ginny dreads telling you who she's dating!" Hermione looked at her watch. "I've got to run. Don't wait up!"

"He didn't waste any time, I see," said Ron as they watched Hermione leave through the portrait hole.

"The way I figure it," Harry replied, "his gain is our gain. Let's keep our fingers crossed that they last more than forty-five minutes."

Ron covered his face with his hands. "I'll never live that down, will I?"

Harry laughed. "I doubt it. There are plenty of us around to keep reminding you."

They played two games of wizard's chess, with Ron beating Harry soundly the first match and the second ending in a draw. It was just after curfew when Hermione returned from her date. She waved at them, called goodnight and headed straight up to the girls' dormitory.

"She's not going to tell us anything about her date, is she?" mused Ron.

"Can't blame her, really. If it were you out on the date, would you tell the two of us?" replied Harry with one eyebrow raised.

"Not the truth, anyway. She wasn't crying, though, so I bet she fared better than you and Cho Chang," said Ron, trying not to laugh.

"Not my finest hour, was it? I'd like to think I've improved."

Ron answered in a hushed voice, "We'll see tomorrow night, won't we?"