The Dementors' Kiss

Harry couldn't help but feel a little isolated as term began again. He'd waved off the foreign students a few nights before, Nick and Josh winking at him suggestively as Fleur dispensed her usual two-cheek kisses. Since then, he'd had no-one really to hang around with, no-one to, well, to put it bluntly, to stop him being around Ron and Hermione when they were being a couple.

He told himself he was being silly, that Ron and Hermione being together was a good thing, especially for them. But having his best friends spending all their time together, often to the exclusion of anyone else was extremely disconcerting. Worse, with all the homework being piled on by the teachers as the fifth year students prepared to take their O.W.Ls at the end of the year, Harry had been unable to find time to carry on his Patronus classes. When he'd broached the subject to Hermione, she'd smiled at him and told him not to worry.

"I was the only one who was really having trouble with it," she said. "And now I'm just so happy I don't care how many Dementors come after me. I know I can fight them off."

Which, coming from Hermione, was so saccharine sweet that Harry found himself staring after her in disbelief as she hurried off to find Ron.

He tried talking to Ginny, as well, but she wasn't worried either.

"I think I have the hang of it now, Harry," she said. "I mean, I did okay in Hogsmeade, didn't I?"

Harry was forced to admit that, yes, she had certainly done okay in Hogsmeade. She'd held back Dementors, and helped Madam Rosmerta tend the wounded in the Three Broomsticks when Harry had gone to check on Ron and Hermione.

All in all, Harry was beginning to understand exactly how Hermione had felt during their third year, and he wasn't sure why.

Of course, Ron had Hermione. That probably helped. They were sitting beside him now, probably playing footsy under the table as they worked on their Transfiguration essay ("40 ways to change your lover." Harry had never thought Professor McGonagall had a sense of humour, and wasn't very impressed by it.)

Harry sat slumped in his chair, tapping the feather end of his quill on the parchment in front of him as he stared across the common room to where Ginny sat laughing with the other Quidditch players. As he watched, Lee Jordan came over, and wrapped his arms around Katie Bell. The three couples sat easily together, with Ginny the focus of the semi-circle they formed. As he watched and tapped, Ginny looked around at the trio of couples and laughed, tossing her head back and making her hair dance in the light given off by the fire. Harry heaved a great sigh and pulled a face, embarrassed and appalled at himself.

*

The next few weeks didn't get much better for Harry. He found himself actually fulfilling his Prefect duties, for the first time taking points from fellow students for minor rule infringements. At one point he found himself on the verge of taking points from Colin for taking a picture of his friends at breakfast time, and had to consciously restrain himself. Ron and Hermione, sitting beside him, didn't notice. They were too busy feeding one another toast.

At lunchtime, Fred and George came up to him and asked for some inside information on a book that they had running. Apparently the odds were 2-1 that Harry was hacked off about waiting three months between Quidditch matches, 5-2 that it was girl trouble, and 7-5 that he was worried about exams.

"Has to be Quidditch," Fred said, confidently. "I have to say, I'm starting to get twitchy myself. I mean, how long since you had a chance to get up on your Firebolt, Harry? Still, cheer up. Two matches in a week coming up!"

Harry stormed off without replying, but this only seemed to confirm Fred's opinion, and by the end of lunch, the twins were accepting no more bets on the Quidditch option.

That evening, Harry gave up on his homework in exasperation and offered to take Ron's patrol for him. He wandered through the school, saying hello to Nearly Headless Nick and the Fat Friar as they floated through a wall in front of him.

Turning a corner, he pulled up short. Standing in front of him, at the entrance to Dumbledore's office, was Hagrid. The Hogwarts gamekeeper fairly filled the corridor with his huge frame, but Harry knew that his friend was one of the gentlest souls around. As if to prove it, Hagrid paused in the act of giving the password, and turned to look back down the corridor.

"Oh, hullo Harry," he said, smiling wearily in the gloom. "Jus' off to see Professor Dumbledore. Been spending a bit o' time with Olympe, an' I figured he'd want ter know the latest news from the giants."

Harry nodded, his suspicion that Hagrid and the Beauxbatons headmistress had been serving as equerries to the giants confirmed. Still, the two half-giants were yet another couple for Harry to feel uncomfortable around. He pulled a face in the darkness, unsure of whether to laugh or scowl.

"Course, I probably shouldn' have tol' you that," Hagrid went on. "But I reckon the Professor won' mind. Doesn't look like it came as much of a surprise to you, anyway. Always said you was a smart lad. Want ter come see the Professor?"

Harry found himself nodding. Beyond the Dark Arts classes, he hadn't seen much of Professor Dumbledore this year, whereas previous years had lead him to the Headmasters office on what had felt like a regular basis. Maybe he could get Fawkes the phoenix to wash away the bad feeling that had settled in him over the last month or so.

"Cola bottles," Hagrid said. The gargoyle that protected the entrance to Dumbledore's office moved aside, and Hagrid and Harry mounted the moving staircase. At the top, Hagrid tapped respectfully on the door.

"Come," they heard from within. Hagrid opened the door, and the two walked in.

"Ah Hagrid, and Harry too. A fine way to end the day," Dumbledore greeted them. Harry was immediately cheered by the greeting, and smiled at his headmaster. Dumbledore waved them to seats in front of his desk, where they sat down and relaxed. Harry felt his mood improving, and smiled slightly. Fawkes the phoenix, who had been sitting on his perch behind Dumbledore's desk, hopped up in the air and glided down to land on the floor. He looked up at Harry, fixing him with a keen stare. Dumbledore chuckled.

"My, Fawkes has taken a liking to you,

"No, it's not any of that," Harry said. "I'm sorry, Professor, Hagrid had something to tell you."

Hagrid shook his great head. "It can wait, Harry," he said, kindly. "What's up? Work getting' to yer?"

Harry too shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I just feel. . . Washed out."

"Well, that is not uncommon. I believe it's been several weeks since the last noisy party in Gryffindor Tower," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps another one would help?"

Harry smiled wanly. "I'm not really in much of a mood to celebrate anything, Professor. I don't think it's schoolwork. My marks are okay, well, except for Potions, but. . . I mean, even the other Gryffindors have noticed. I just seem to be in a bad mood all the time."

Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore exchanged looks, and Hagrid seemed to be smiling behind his beard.

"Well, Harry, it's not as though this was completely unexpected," Dumbledore said. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

"Well, since the foreign students left to go back home," Harry said slowly, thinking back.

"Ah, so, when the school emptied out and you began to notice that the Ball had had its usual side effect of creating a surge of tremendous well being among your fellow students," Dumbledore said. Harry looked at him curiously.

"Since everyone started snoggin', Harry," Hagrid said, by way of explanation.

Harry sat there, looking from one to the other.

"You think I'm jealous of Ron and Hermione and the others?" he said, not sure whether they were being serious or not. Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"I think it very possible, Harry," he said. "Why, I myself have noticed that Mister Weasley and Miss Granger seem to have found a way to spend even more time together than is surely humanly possible. And many of your other friends have also found comfort in this most trying of times."

"I don't..." Harry began. "I mean, I'm happy for them," he went on. "It's just. . ."

Hagrid nodded. "I remember one year young Charlie Weasley came down to my cabin, all annoyed 'cos his best friend started seeing a girl. 'Course, I think Charlie liked her a bit as well, so that may have 'ad summat to do with it," he said, shrewdly.

"Perhaps that is the problem," Dumbledore said. Hagrid nodded.

"Is that it, Harry? Did yer want to get together with Hermione?"

"What? No!" Harry said. "Me and Hermione? No!"

Hagrid chuckled. "No, I didn' think so," he said. "Doesn' take a genius to see her and Ron were made fer each other."

"Well then, Harry," Professor Dumbledore. "I'm afraid I'm not sure we can be much help. I myself have no great expertise in these areas, and it is a long time since I was your age in any case. Perhaps one of your other friends may be able to help? Miss Weasley, perhaps?"

At the mention of Ginny, Harry's head snapped up, and Hagrid chuckled again.

"Ah, I did wonder," he said. "I think we found the problem, Professor."

"Indeed so," Dumbledore replied, looking over the top of his glasses at Harry. "Curious, though hardly surprising. I believe I told you once that a great bond is established between two wizards when one saves another's life," he continued, but Harry cut him off.

"That's something I wanted to ask you, Professor," he said. "Does it work both ways? I mean," he swallowed hard, and tried to ignore the blush spreading across his cheeks. "I do like Ginny. Might that be why? And if she does like me, might it be the bond?"

Dumbledore thought about this for a time, and then twiddled his thumbs, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke.

"I think it is possible that the bond you share with Miss Weasley has allowed you to relate to one another," he said slowly. "You have both faced Voldemort, in whatever shape he took, and survived that. As for the bond that ties you to her, and her to you... I do not see it the way you do, Harry. As you know full well, Professor Snape holds no love for your father's memory. If Miss Weasley harbours any feelings towards you, there is no outside element acting upon her, at least," he added, looking now straight at Harry. "Not in the way you are worrying about.

"Now, I think you have a great deal to think about, as well as preparations for the upcoming Quidditch matches to make. As co-captain, I should hate to think you were neglecting your duties in order to wander the school corridors at night. You do have an example to set, after all."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, standing up. He grinned as thought of the pool being run on his state of mind. "Seems a lot of people are keeping an eye on me."

*

Harry threw himself back into Quidditch preparation with renewed vigour. With matches against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw on the Saturdays either side of Valentine's day, there was little time for Harry and Ron to prepare themselves and their team for what they had to face. Slytherin had been mauled badly by both teams as Malfoy had insisted on playing Crabbe and Goyle, despite , and the three sat jointly atop the house Quidditch table, with points difference meaning that Gryffindor needed to score heavily to make it back to the top of the table.

"It's up to you girls," Ron said. "No messing about when we got on the pitch. Nothing fancy. Just blitz them. Fred, George, you need to be at your finest. This isn't the paddock, this is serious."

George and Fred snapped off mirror image salutes as Ron walked up and down the line. Glaring balefully at them, he turned to look at Harry. "Do I need to say anything?"

"We went over this at breakfast," Harry said. "We need lots of points, just in case we lose one of the matches. But I still reckon the best way is to make sure I get the Snitch early on."

"We can't guarantee that," Ron said, returning to a pointless argument. "Cho Chang is on a Nimbus 2001 now. If she has enough of a head start on you, she could get the Snitch first. Maybe you should try and mark her out of the match?"

"We'll have to see how the match goes, Ron," Angelina said, stifling a yawn. "Can we go to bed now?"

"Need a hand?" Fred said, grinning devilishly as he slipped an arm around Angelina's waist. The group chuckled tiredly, and went off to bed. Separate ones, in all cases.

*

After his talk with Hagrid and Dumbledore, Harry had given up all pretence. He liked Ginny, and was going to ask her out. Soon. Very soon. As soon as he stopped tripping over his feet, or staring dumbly at her, or walking into things whenever she was around. The just friends mantra was best left in the past, but it had succeeded in making him focus on something other than the fact that he was increasingly thinking of her as the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

He'd tried talking to Hermione about it, only for her to smile enigmatically at him and walk away. By the end of the week, Harry was left with the firm desire to kick something, and having to go to bed early -as soon as he'd finished his homework- didn't improve matters. Ginny had been sitting quietly in the corner, conveniently lacking any surrounding admirers, but as soon as Harry's quill had been put away, Ron had been dragging him towards their dormitory, shooting warning glances at the other five members of the team. As the door shut behind them, Harry finally broke free from Ron's grip, and glared at his friend in the moonlight shining through the window.

"What'd I do?" Ron asked, the pale lipstick from Hermione's goodnight kiss still evident on his cheek. Harry just glared even harder at him and went to bed.

*

Harry's spirits had definitely improved by the time Quidditch practise was over, however. Hermione and Ginny had dragged themselves out of bed to watch the team practise, and Harry felt certain that Hermione was trying to help him. Certainly by the end of the practise, Ginny was whooping and hollering as Harry, throwing himself fully into practise to distract himself from the vivid red hair visible even from so high up in the air, caught the Snitch five times in five minutes. Returning to the ground, the team couldn't help but grin. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would be playing on the pitch in just over an hour, but whatever the result, the Gryffindors felt they could win the Quidditch Cup again.

"I have to say," said Fred, sniffing loudly while George pretended to blow his nose on Fred's robes, "that even Oliver never prepared us this well. To Ron and Harry," he said, raising his broomstick in the air. George's joined it, and then the Chasers' brooms all crossed over the heads of the captains as well.

"Detonatus," George said. The water balloons hidden in the twigs of the brooms burst, and Ron and Harry were drenched with several pints of freezing cold, slimy lake water.

"But that's for making us go to bed early every Friday night for the last three months," Fred continued, as the co-captains spluttered and gasped for breath.

*

Ravenclaw squeezed past Hufflepuff narrowly in a thrilling match, Cho Chang grabbing the Snitch when Ravenclaw trailed by 130 points, which meant that things were much more level on the points board. But Gryffindor still needed a handsome victory over one of their rivals. Surprisingly, Ron took it phlegmatically.

"We'll train twice more this week," he said to Harry. "We're really as good as we can be, and I don't want us pushing too hard."

Harry agreed. Neither of them had enjoyed the lake water shower, especially having to clean their robes afterwards. Harry had been particularly dismayed by Ginny having seen him dripping several pints of the foul water, pondweed dangling off the end of his nose.

He had returned to his previous role of tripping over non-existent things, walking into solid objects, and generally feeling like a complete fool whenever Ginny was around. Later that week, after a moderately paced practice, he thought he saw his chance when he was studying with Ron and Hermione. He saw Ginny getting up and heading toward the portrait hole, and decided that going for a walk with her would present the perfect opportunity. Just as he was heading toward the hole, however, he found himself waylaid by the twins.

"O Captain, my Captain," Fred hailed him. "Wait up, will you?"

"What? Oh, hullo Fred," Harry said, grimacing as the Fat Lady swung shut behind Ginny.

"Our captain doesn't sound very cheerful," George said, rolling a piece of parchment and tucking it inside his robes as he joined them. "Anyone would think he wasn't happy to be in our company."

"What's up?" he asked.

"Well, after the rousing success of the Dementor's Ball in the greenhouse," Fred began.

"And seeing as it's Valentine's Day next week," George continued.

"Our favourite holiday, by the way," Fred chipped in.

"We wanted to see if you were up for helping with our new project," George finished.

Harry looked from one twin to the other, each sporting identical, mischief packed, grins. Despite himself, he was intrigued.

"Yeah, okay..." he said slowly. "What's the plan?"

"Well, it's a bit more ambitious this time," George began.

"And it's all to do with truth, beauty, freedom and, above all, love..." Fred continued.

*

Harry was initially appalled by the twins' suggestion, but after a few seconds, began to warm to the idea. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it.

A few days later came Ginny's birthday, and the Gryffindors had celebrated in style, as Ginny was one of the most popular members of the house. Harry had even plucked up the courage to dance with her, before giving her her present. The magical hairgrip, which was enchanted to arrange the owners hair to their wishes, earned Harry a huge hug that left him somewhat speechless as she ran off to show Hermione and her other friends.

After a few minutes regaining his composure, he sought out the twins, turning a blind eye to Alicia's knowing wink as he pulled Fred and George away from their girlfriends.

"I'm in, okay?" he said, as Fred and George grinned. "But does it have to be so pink?"

"Absolutely," Fred replied. Harry grimaced, but agreed. The three put their heads together, and it was over an hour before Alicia and Angelina were able to break them up.