The Dementors' Kiss

The next morning Hermione was treating herself to a lie in. At least, she was trying to, but she was awoken by someone prodding her shoulder.

"Crookshanks, in your basket," she murmured in her sleep.

"Hermione!" a voice hissed. A male voice. She sat bolt upright.

"Who's there?" she said, grabbing her wand from under her pillow. "I'm warning you. . ."

Harry's head appeared in mid air, and then the rest of him followed as he pulled off his invisibility cloak. "Can you put that down, please, Hermione?" he asked, sounding very tired. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and it was obvious that Harry hadn't slept much that night. "I need to talk to you."

"Harry? What couldn't wait until this afternoon?"

Harry looked around, making sure the curtains on Hermione's bed were fully drawn. "Ginny," he said.

"Oh," Hermione replied. "Well, I can't say I didn't wonder," she said. "You've spent more time with her these last few weeks than me or Ron, did you know that?"

Harry looked as though he were going to protest, and then sighed. "You're right," he said. "And now I don't know what's going on."

"Do you like her?" Hermione asked. "More than as a friend, I mean."

"Yeah, I do, and I don't know why. I don't know if I like her because of who she is, or because of this bond thing we're supposed to have, or if it's just because she's so pretty. . . I don't know what I'm supposed to do!" Harry said. "Listen, Hermione, you can't tell her this, okay? Or Ron! Or anyone, for that matter, but especially not Ron. He'd kill me."

"Before you start thinking about how Ron will react, hadn't you better decide whether you actually like Ginny or not?"

"Hermione, has she said anything to you about me?"

"Harry, if she did, I couldn't tell you, unless she said I could. I could ask her if it's alright to tell you. . ."

"No! Then she'd know I was asking, and she'd know I liked her, and if she doesn't like me. . ." Harry tailed off, sinking back onto Hermione's bed. "I'm being stupid. I know she only likes me as a friend, so why can't I get her out of my mind?" He stood up wearily, and walked despondently from Hermione's room.

"There dwells the brave, the strong, the lionheart," Hermione murmured.

*

Sunday evening came, and Harry made his way down to the Transfiguration classroom, making a face at the door of Moaning Myrtle's toilet as he passed. At least she didn't have to worry about facing the next several hours alone with the person she liked.

He unlocked the classroom, and sent bursts of flame to the candles. He looked at his wand, and polished it with the edge of his robe. Then he pointed it at his reflection in the classroom window, and murmured "Expecto Patronum." A bright silver mist flowed gently from the end of his wand, and hung gracefully in the air in front of him for a few seconds, adding its light to the meagre illumination created by the sparse array of candles in the room.

"That's what you have to teach me," Ginny said, making Harry jump. "Should I be worried if you're practising?"

"Do you practise moving silently?" he asked, concentrating on his wand, and resolutely not turning. "Or is it a natural gift."

"Natural, I think. Or at least it comes from trying to move around in a house with eight other people in it. You learn to be quiet, or everyone starts shouting at you."

"Everyone shouts at me at home anyway," Harry replied. Great, self pity. And you're helping her? Good grief!

"Harry, if you ever want to talk about it. . ." Ginny said, suddenly. Harry spun on his heel.

"I'd rather not," he said, gently. "Shall we start practising?"

"Sounds good," Ginny said, her voice catching a little. Harry smiled down at her, and she sat down rather heavily on one of the benches.

"Relax, Gin, nothing to be worried about. I don't think we'll bother with a Dementor just yet. For my own good as much as yours," he added with a grin. Ginny managed a small smile.

"Right, it's as easy as it looks. Think of the happiest thought you can, and say 'Expecto Patronum!'"

Ginny tried, thinking of the past summer holidays at the Burrow. "Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing happened. "What are you thinking of?" When she told him, he shook his head. "I think that may be too broad a memory," he said, his voice sounding very clinical. "Try focussing on one specific happy memory. When we were all at dinner, maybe?"

Ginny focussed on one very specific memory, and tried again. This time, a thin, faint wisp of silver like a strand of hair emerged slowly from her wand. Harry grinned.

"A good start," he said. "May I ask what the memory was?"

"It was, well, it was that morning I stole your socks. . ." Ginny said quietly, fighting valiantly against the blush that had started somewhere around her toenails. She looked up, and was surprised to see that Harry, as far as she could tell, was blushing as brightly as she was.

*

Time passed, as it ever does. September turned into October, and homework began to pile up. Only Hermione managed to avoid handing in anything late. As it was, Harry wasn't sure why he kept making time for his private sessions with Ginny.

Ginny was every bit as snowed under as Harry, despite her easier start to the year. She was even beginning to wonder if she should give up the Patronus classes.

One morning at breakfast, however, the need for the Patronus charm was brought home to them in full force. As Harry came down to breakfast, he realised that many of his fellow Gryffindors were staring ashen faced at the table. Ron was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, and Harry shuddered as he recognised the shape in the front-page picture.

"The Dark Mark," he said, quietly. He took the paper, and read the lead story.

"More attacks," Harry said, heavily. He looked around the table. "Do you think the Ministry would really cover up this sort of thing?"

Almost as one, the four Weasleys looked down at the table. Hermione glanced at them, but said nothing.

"It's scary stuff," Seamus said, breaking the silence. "Maybe the Ministry is fighting the war secretly? It'd be a bit stupid to admit they had people out looking for the Death Eaters. It'd put Ministry employees and their families at risk."

"Harry?" Ginny said, her voice firm as she looked at the paper. "Do you think you could find any more time for our sessions?"

Harry looked up. Part of him still wanted to back away from more time with Ginny, but part of him knew that it was a good idea to step things up. The more people who could fight the Dementors, the better. That much was clear now. Reaching across the table, he took Ginny's hand in his, and squeezed it gently.

"Of course. And if anyone wants to join us, they'll be very welcome."

*

A few days later, Harry received a reply from Remus and Sirius.

*

Hallowe'en came and went without any further reports of Death Eater or Dementor activity. After an initial flurry of interest, most people seemed to accept the Ministry's explanation about Voldemort's former followers. The Ministry, when questioned, continued to deny any new activity on the part of Voldemort's forces.

"Any suggestion that Voldemort has returned from the dead would be seen as dangerous, scurrilous,

In the meantime, homework and the Patronus classes filled up Harry's time. Occasionally, he found a few minutes to collaborate with Ron on Quidditch tactics, but as Ron had surprised everyone by quickly mastering the Patronus spell, they reached an agreement that he would handle the bulk of the day to day work.

The Hallowe'en feast was superb, excelling even over the usual Hogwarts feasts. The students went out of the way to forget the outside world for one night, and in general succeeded triumphantly.

*

A few weeks later, Harry was surprised to notice that the tables were slightly longer than normal when they sat down for their meal. Dumbledore solved the mystery quickly enough, standing and tapping lightly on his goblet.

"The keen eyed among you will have noticed a few more seats at your tables. This is not merely to make way for your expanded stomachs once the fifth helping of puddings have been disposed of. No, tonight, we will be joined by some very special guests." A gong rang out in the corner of the room, Filch striking the great bronze chime four times in succession.

"Ah, I see our guests are ready to join us." Dumbledore waved his wand casually at the huge double doors, which swung open easily. "I ask now that you give a warm welcome to our guests, students from Durmstrang, Wisconsin, Adelaide and Beauxbatons!"

The Great Hall resounded to loud cheers and wolf whistles as four groups of students entered nervously. One of the Beauxbatons students broke ranks, and led her fellow students towards the Gryffindor table.

"'Arry!" she declared. "Ron!" Pulling down her muffler, she flashed a dazzling smile at the two friends which had males in their vicinity dropping cutlery and spilling drink.

"Fleur!" Harry grinned, standing up and greeting his fellow Triwizard champion warmly. "When did you get here?"

"This morning," Fleur beamed, as she and her fellow Beauxbatons seated themselves at the Gryffindor table. "Professor Dumbledore invited us, in ze spirit of international magical co-operation and all that sort of thing. I have come along to supervise, because I know 'Ogwarts, and because I am still young and like to have some fun." She smiled at the two of them again, batting her long eyelashes at them.

"It is definitely good to be back at 'Ogwarts," she added, smiling winsomely. "Back with my two favourite young men. I must think of some way to thank you properly this time... You did save my sister's life after all."

"Er, not really..." Ron said. "Are you staying long?" he added, politely. Harry could tell he was still a little embarrassed around Fleur.

"Until ze New Year," Fleur explained. "Professor Dumbledore... No, he said we must keep it a secret," she said, smiling at them, accompanied by still more fluttering eyelashes.

"Keep what a secret?" Ron asked.

"Ron! Eef I tell you, it is a secret no more, no?"

"Err... No, I guess not," Ron said, looking blankly at Harry.

"I will say this; Maybe I will say yes this time, hmm?" she smiled widely at Ron again, and Harry could see his friend going red.

"Ah! Professor Dumbledore." Fleur said, looking away. Harry saw Ron wilt out of the corner of his eye as Dumbledore stood.

"Now that we have all met our guests, may I say... Start eating!"

The meal was different to usual, as the students were encouraged to roam freely through the room, swapping names and stories with the foreign students. Fleur seemed to alternate between spending time with him or with Ron, and when she was with Ron, Harry grinned at the realisation that Hermione didn't look too happy about it.

Ron meanwhile, when he was freed of Fleur's presence, stared shrewdly at the way Ginny was frowning at the French girl's incessant displays of affection for Harry. When he felt sure no-one was looking, he grimaced.

Hermione noticed, though.

*

Finally, the dinner wound down, and Harry took one last look at the decorations before departing for bed. As he walked toward the tower, he realised that Fleur was walking beside him.

"Your Professor McGonagall, she said that we would be sleeping in your tower," Fleur explained. "So I think to myself, I will follow Harry. He will lead me true."

"So, why are you staying until the New Year?" Harry asked, trying to maintain his composure under the onslaught of Veela charm.

"Ah, you will find out tomorrow, so Dumbledore says." And Fleur would say no more. When they reached the tower, she kissed Harry on both cheeks, and headed for the girl's dormitories.

"She's a piece of work, isn't she?" Ron said, as they walked up the stairs to their own dormitory. "I mean, the Aussies are a great laugh, and the Americans seem really smart, but Fleur... Good grief."

"I thought you liked her?" Harry said, grinning at Ron.

"Well, yeah, she's nice and stuff," Ron replied, looking uncomfortable. "But she was all over me down there. I was trying to find out what this great secret is, but she just kept fluttering her eyelashes at me."

"Hermione didn't look too pleased," Harry said absently.

"Yeah, well, probably worried that if Krum shows up, Fleur'd be all over him."

"Ron, haven't you talked to Hermione about Krum yet?" Harry asked, in surprise.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, as he climbed wearily into bed.

"Look, we've got the match against Slytherin tomorrow. Just. . . take her for a walk or something afterwards. By the lake, maybe."

"Why?" Ron asked. "Why, Harry?" But he was met with silence as Harry feigned sleep.

*

Hermione had already pulled her jumper over her head before she realised that Fleur was standing nervously by her trunk.

"'Ermione, I would like to talk to you," Fleur said, rubbing her hands together.

"Couldn't this wait until morning?" Hermione asked, irritably. Or maybe until you've gone back to France?

"No," Fleur said. "I would like to know what there is between you and 'Arry, or you and Ron."

"What do you mean, what there is?" Hermione asked.

"I know that you were friends last year," Fleur said. "Now I think something more is happening, and I do not want to 'urt anyone. 'Ermione, I am part Veela, it is in my nature to charm those around me. I cannot 'elp it. When I was with the two of them earlier, I had fun. They are kind, and funny, and I responded as Veela do around such men. But 'Arry, and Ron, they act as if they do not notice. I 'ave only seen this before in those who are already spoken for, those who are in the first flush of love... Even married men chase me, though generally they are dreadful bores," she added, passing no comment on the morality of that particular situation.

"So, are you seeing Ron? Or 'Arry? Or do you know if they 'ave girlfriends?"

Hermione looked blankly at Fleur, trying to understand why the older girl seemed to be viewing her as. . . What? A rival? A confidante?

"Why do you want to know? I mean, aren't you a bit old for them?"

Fleur smiled. "Oh, I would not want to, well, you know... But I do feel very fond of them. They did save my sister from drowning, after all. I thought perhaps I could get to know them better while I am 'ere, but I would not want to be treading on anyone's toes."

"Um, they're both single, at least as far as I know," Hermione said. "But one of my friends likes Harry," she added. "I'd rather you didn't hurt her, so please don't try to get Harry to like you." Hermione paused, realising how silly that sounded. "I mean, I know Harry makes his own choices, but don't try-"

"I understand. Do you think that Ron-"

"Not Ron," Hermione said, emphatically. "I mean, he's..."

"Ah," Fleur said, a little sadly. Then, she brightened somewhat. "Yes, I do understand." She got up and walked towards the door.

"Understand what?" Hermione asked.

"Good luck to you, 'Ermione," Fleur said. "Ron is a wonderful person. And good luck to your friend, as well. Harry is very special."

"Understand what?" Hermione called after her.

Hermione looked after the French girl long after she'd walked out of the room. It wasn't until Ginny wandered in, and asked to borrow some of Hermione's fourth year notes, that she finally snapped out of it.

"Ginny," she said, slowly. "We need to talk. After the match tomorrow, we really need to talk."