Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Seven:

A familiar scent of cabbage

The next morning Ron and Hermione acted extremely awkward and uncomfortable in each other's company. They went out of their way to avoid eye contact and conversations were limited to low and moody mutterings of one-syllable words.

Not again, Harry thought with heavy heart. He absolutely hated having to act as mediator between the two, as it often forced him to pick sides. In this particular matter he didn't have a side, and Harry crossed his fingers hoping they'd snapped out of it by the end of the day.

At breakfast the new Headboy (from Ravenclaw) handed out their class schedules.

"Oh no," Ron complained loudly. "We've got double Potions with the Slytherins this morning. What a terrible way to start the new school year. Bugger!" He banged his head against the table, managing to spill a liberal amount of pumpkin juice in the process.

"Careful there, dunderhead, you might break the table and force young Granger here to take points from her own House, and that before school has even started," Fred admonished in a pretend stern voice while desperately trying to salvage his toast from death by drowning.

"Whatever," Ron muttered back and stole a glance at Hermione. She was staring into her glass of milk not saying a word. Damn, Ron thought miserably. It seemed as if he'd once again managed to upset Hermione. The really depressing fact however was that he didn't even have the foggiest clue as to what he'd supposedly done this time. How was he supposed to apologise when he didn't know what he should be apologising for? Ron felt a headache coming on just thinking about it. Why had Hermione suddenly turned into such a girl, he wondered and sighed loudly.

"What's the matter with him?" Ginny asked as she sat down in the vacant spot next to Harry. Ron was now busy stabbing his toast viciously while muttering profanities under his breath.

"Oh, it's just a bad case of the old Slytherin-blues, that's all. Double Potions this morning," Harry explained brightly. The sight of Ginny had made his spirits rise considerably. Ginny nodded understandingly and giggled as she buttered her toast.

"Don't worry, Harry," she told him. "I'm sure he'll be cured as soon as he sees Professor Delacour though. She is quite stunning, isn't she? Nothing heals a young boy's depression faster than a gorgeous professor," Ginny proclaimed loudly. Beside him Ron grunted contemptuously and poked his tongue at his sister. Harry just nodded awkwardly. For some reason he didn't exactly feel very comfortable discussing good-looking professors with Ginny.

On the other side of the table, Hermione snorted scornfully.

"Sure he will; a pretty face or better yet a pair of big breast to gawk at and his morning will be saved no doubt about that." She slashed her toast violently in two while shooting daggers in Ron's direction. Ginny turned to Harry looking confused.

"What did I miss?" she whispered.

"Believe me," Harry answered quietly, "You don't want to know."

* * *

Hermione continued to give Ron the silent treatment all the way down to the dungeons. As soon as they reached the classroom she made sure Harry was seated between them. Even though a good night's sleep had calmed her down considerably, Hermione was still rather hurt by Ron's remarks and behaviour from the night before. And that was why she didn't trust herself enough to be near him at this point. If she did the temptation to ruin his potion in some way would probably overcome her, and Hermione wasn't willing to risk her perfect academic record over some stupid adolescent boy.

Sitting in the middle, Harry looked rather uncomfortable about his role as enforced intermediate, and she could see he was doing his best to smooth the situation over with vivid and pointless small talk. Occasionally Ron would answer him in one-syllable words, but Hermione refused to take part in the conversation. Instead she took out her new textbook and began rereading the section about the many uses for frog spleen in the art of potion making. This topic wasn't even on their curriculum, but it was way better than wasting her time thinking about him.

But even though she put all her effort into it, Hermione couldn't concentrate. Her thoughts kept drifting back to annoying the topic of Ron. He really should have the decency to apologize, shouldn't he or was she maybe being too hard on him?

The excited murmurs in the dungeons quickly died out as Professor Delacour sashayed into the room. She had put her long hair up in a tight bun and wore regular black school robes, Hermione noticed approvingly. This did by no means hide her beauty but at least she was trying to look professional, Hermione had to give her credit for that.

Looking around the classroom she wasn't surprised to see that most of the males were giving the professor some rather unconcealed dreamy looks. Some of the girls (mostly Slytherin) on the other hand seemed to be eying her with something that could only be describes as unconcealed jealousy and suspicion. Hermione grimaced and turned her attention back to the professor. Sure Fleur might be prettier than she was, she may be more skilled at Potions, and Ron might even like the Veela better than he did her, but Hermione still refused to be poisoned by petty jealousy. But as she looked at Ron from the corner of her eye and saw his obvious admiration for Fleur Hermione knew it would be very difficult indeed to stick to that promise...

* * *

In retrospect Harry had to admit that today's Potions class undoubtedly had been the best he'd ever attended. The fact that he'd never really experienced anything that even faintly resembled a bearable potions class under Professor Snape's reign made this fairly easy to accomplish, but still. Fleur, or Professor Delacour as he now had to address her, had made them all feel at ease right from the start. Harry had noticed that a few of the girls had been rather hostile towards her at first, but by the end of the class she had them all eating out of her hand. Even poor Neville had managed to get his potion right and that without Hermione muttering instructions in his ear for a change.

The Slytherins had also been uncharacteristically quiet and subdued, and Harry assumed he had to put this down to Veela charm, as he seriously doubted they had changed their naturally dire personalities over the summer. But if this first lesson was anything to go by, Potions didn't seem to be such a hated subject this year. Harry silently hoped that Professor Snape would take his time before returning to his job. He for one wasn't missing him one bit.

Next up was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Ever since the feast the night before Harry had been twisting his brain in order to remember where he'd seen Professor Figg before. He was sure this was the Arabella Figg that Dumbledore had mentioned as being one of "the old gang" that Sirius had been asked to get in touch with right after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. He's spent the better part of last night mulling about this, but so far without result. Harry assumed that seeing her in class probably would help jog his memory.

Inside the classroom Harry was once again forced to act as human buffer between Ron and Hermione. Why on earth couldn't they just talk about things like normal people instead of giving each other the cold shoulder for days every time the fought (which was often)? Harry was seriously considering moving over to sit by Dean just to make a point when Professor Figg entered the room. A smaller yet weirder hat with pink and green dots that blinked constantly had today replaced the humongous yellow one that she'd worn to the feast the night before. Hat fetish, Harry noted with a grin and he could hear the other students around him snicker silently.

"Good morning class," said Professor Figg matter-of-factly as though she'd been their teacher since yonder. With much bravado she pulled out a piece of parchment from her robes and began to call out their names one by one. When she reached Harry's name he answered affirmatively and before she continued on her list he could have sworn that the professor gave him a small wink. What was that all about he thought and ran his hand through his messy hair making it stand out even more. Teacher's never winked at students. This was really odd.

Professor Figg started by telling them that the lessons this year would be much more practically orientated than usual due to the resent development with You-know-who, as she put it. She also announced that there would be no written tests this year (aside from the OWLs, that is), something that received loud cheers from everyone except Hermione, who looked positively devastated, as she loved anything that involved quills and parchment.

After being told to pack away their books (leaving Hermione looking close to tears), they were all paired up and assigned to different posts that Professor Figg set up around the classroom with a flick of her wand. At each post they were asked to perform certain charms, spells or hexes, either on each other or against obstacles or creatures that Professor Figg had placed there. This was to give her an overview of their knowledge, she told them. She herself just walked around observing their efforts.

Harry and Ron was paired together and had so far managed all post without problems. Ron successfully managed to disarm Harry with a swift Expelliarmus followed by a nasty Tickling Charm just to be safe; they had defeated a Grindylow and a Hinkypunk (Professor Lupin had taught them well) and were now moving towards the next post. A large chest was standing in front of them and the obstacle they needed to defeat was surely hiding in there.

"Do you want to do the honours?" Harry asked and Ron bowed his head whispering "Yes, master," in a hoarse voice setting off another fit of laughter from Harry (the tickling charm had yet to wear off).

As soon as the chest was opened, a large, grey hooded figure materialized itself in front of them and Harry felt his body instantly going cold. It was a Dementor! This creature fed on human emotions and whenever in the presence of one, Harry could hear the last moments before his parents were brutally murdered by Voldemort.

He could hear the rest of the class including Ron gasping in horror, and Harry knew what he had to do. He scanned his mind for a happy memory and he instantly thought of the day they'd all gone swimming in the pond by The Burrow. He remembered the feeling of Ginny's hand as she pulled him into the lake splashing water all over him. He held on to the image of Ginny, raised his wand and yelled "Expecto Patronum" on top of his lungs. The next moment a silvery mist shot out of his wand and transformed into the shape of a large Stag racing towards the Dementor. But the Dementor didn't move at all. Instead it appeared to be sprouting long hairy legs on its back.

"It's not a Dementor!" Ron screamed half terrified half excited. "It's a Boggart, Harry. Look, it's beginning to get confused." Ron was right. The Boggart had now morphed into a grey-hooded spider. "Think of something to make it less scary!" Ron bellowed and seconds later both boys yelled "Riddiculus!" in perfect unison and the Boggart immediately vaporized.

The whole class was staring at the two of them with open mouths. None of them had ever seen anybody procure a Patronus up close before and judging by their faces they were clearly very impressed.

"Very good, Mr. Potter," Professor Figg said approvingly. "That was a fine looking Patronus. And you Mr. Weasley did an excellent job recognizing the Boggart. I award Gryffindor twenty points." Harry and Ron grinned happily at each other.

Professor Figg then walked over to Harry and whispered, "Nice Patronus, Harry. Your father would have been very proud." Harry looked up surprised by her comment and as she turned to walk away he thought he sensed a faint, yet oddly familiar scent of cabbage. And that was when it hit him.

Professor Figg was Mrs. Figg, his old babysitter from Privet Drive! He couldn't believe it! The crazy woman with all the cats was a witch! And she'd never said a word about anything. This was just unbelievable!

* * *

As soon as the lesson was over Harry hurried out of the classroom dragging both Ron and Hermione reluctantly with him. Out in the corridor he pulled them aside into a corner.

"Now listen up you two," he began, despair dripping from his voice, "I don't care one way or the other how mad you are at each other but I am seriously fed up with being your intermediate, and I hereby resign from my duty."

They both just stared at him. His outburst had obviously taken them by surprise. Unfazed by their puzzlement Harry continued. "If you two would like to spend any time with me in the future I suggest you kiss and make up right this minute (he smiled at his own suggestion, thinking how fun it would be to force them to actually kiss) and if you do I will tell you about a startling discovery I just made. If you choose to continue this ice front I will appoint Dean and Seamus my new best friends with immediate effect."

He crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently while waiting for their response.

"Well, what's it gonna be? Friends again or should I go seek out Dean and Seamus?"

Hermione and Ron looked from Harry to each other and back to Harry again. To Harry's surprise it was Ron who finally took the first step towards a reconciliation.

"All right, Harry," he said quietly and turned to face Hermione, whom was still maintaining a stiff and relentless stance, clearly refusing to talk to him.

Looking slightly apprehensive he began stuttering out an improvised apology.

"I'm sorry, Mione." He swallowed and evaded her eyes. "I hope you'll believe that I didn't mean to upset you last night and I hope you can forgive me. I sort of have this eh... tendency to speak before I think, you know. Sometimes that results in me saying a lot of brainless things that I honestly don't mean."

Ron said all this really fast and his ears now seemed to be glowing much like a small torchlight. Harry had never heard Ron call Hermione Mione before either and wondered when that had happened. He made a mental note to ask Ron about that later.

Hermione on the other hand was staring down at her shoes and seemed to be having an internal battle whether to accept this apology or not. And then Ron did something unexpected. A lanky arm tentatively reached out and gently touched Hermione's chin making her eyes meet his own. Harry noticed Hermione blush slightly and also noted that Ron's face was now complimenting his hair beautifully.

"Please, Mione," Ron said looking her straight in the eyes. "I'm sorry."

No one said a word for a long time, but finally Hermione nodded and a wave of relief spread across Ron's face. He withdrew his hand quickly and spun around once again facing Harry looking overly enthusiastic to compensate for the gooey display of affection seconds earlier.

"Okay then, what's this startling discovery of yours all about? I'm dying of curiosity over here. Please throw me a line."

Happy that his two best friends finally were back on speaking terms, Harry quickly began to tell them all about Professor Figg.

*

While Harry was telling his story, Hermione was shaking. She could still feel the spot were Ron had touched her face. It felt warm and it was as though her whole face was burning. She had an uncontrollable urge to reach up and touch the spot, but didn't dare. He mustn't see what effect he had on her, she thought desperately. She would just die of embarrassment if he ever found out. She just had to keep a straight face, and no one would ever notice.

But as she stole a quick glance at Ron she could see that his ears was slightly flushed, and she couldn't help but wonder if he had felt something too. Wishful thinking, Granger. Don't fool yourself into seeing things that just aren't there, she admonished silently forcing herself to concentrate on Harry's words instead.

* * *

After telling Ron and Hermione about the discovery he'd just made, they both looked shocked.

"You're sure about this?" Hermione asked as they were heading down to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Yeah, there's no doubt in my mind, that smell of cabbage is a dead giveaway" Harry responded indignantly. "I've spent far too many hours in that odour to be mistaken." The others just nodded.

"The more I think about it though," Harry continued, "the more it really annoys me that no one ever told me about this. It's just so typical of Dumbledore, you know. I should have known there was something fishy about the fact that he always made me go back to the Dursley's every summer. And now I discover that he had a "bodyguard" assigned to me all this time. Only I; the "so-called star" that needed protection, didn't know a damn thing about it." Harry threw his school bag down rather violently and dumped down into an empty seat at the table.

"I spent so much time with Mrs. Figg in her cat-crazy cot, hating every moment of it without knowing that she was a witch. I could have learned so much, but no. Dumbledore had me believe for ten miserable years that I was some looser kid destined to live forever with those Muggles."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried look over the table. They'd seldom seen Harry this upset and irritated, and quite frankly it scared them a little. He was always in such control of his emotions, but now he was acting... well almost Weasley-like!

"But Harry, it can't really be that bad. This just proves that Dumbledore cared enough for you to make sure that you were safe all these years." Hermione felt she had to try to make Harry see the brighter side to this.

"It sounds to me that you're actually, well almost a bit angry with him." She looked at him anxiously. "That can't be true though?"

Harry just snorted as he bit into his lunch. "Well," he said in between chews, "sure he looks after my well-being, but lets face it; the guy never gives me a straight answer about anything. Remember our first year? He kept giving us little pieces of information subtly directing us to rescue the Philosopher's Stone. And in second year we went after Ginny in the Chamber of secrets and I drew the sword of Godric Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat. He never explained to me why I could do that. And why does my scar hurt? Why does Voldemort so desperately want to kill me? The questions just line up, and he; he just shrugs and tell me all will be reviled in due time. Due time my ass! It's about bloody time I got some real answers and I want them today!"

Harry banged his goblet forcibly on the table startling half the Gryffindors to spill their juice or choke on their food. All eyes were now on Harry whose face had gone red with anger.

"What are you all glaring at?" he barked down the table. His voice was high pitched and loud and everybody muttered "nothing" and turned their heads looking at everything but him. Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances and Harry didn't say anything else for the rest of the meal.

* * *

On their way down to the green houses for Herbology Harry appeared to have cooled down somewhat. His facial colour was back to normal again and the angry look he'd had during lunch was now replaced by an oddly blank expression. In addition he was disturbingly quiet and Ron was scanning his brain for suitable topics to put Harry back in high spirits. He'd seldom seen Harry so agitated and it had been rather frightening to be honest.

Suddenly the roles had been reversed and Ron found himself playing a part he really wasn't that comfortable with. Usually he was the one that got fired up and angry and Harry the one doing all the calming. This time however it was Harry who'd snapped and although he seemed to be controlling his emotions at the moment, Ron knew from experience that this was just the familiar silence before the storm. Harry wasn't going to let this go easily. He never did. Ron just prayed he wouldn't do anything rash like bite Dumbledore's head off or something along those lines.

Herbology passed without much trouble; Seamus' misfortune with the Phantom Stems notwithstanding, and well back in the common room Ron managed to coax Hermione into a friendly game of chess before they started on their homework. Harry watched his friends in silence. Ron smiled mischievously as Hermione made a particularly bad move, leaving her queen shockingly unprotected for a checkmate. She groaned disappointedly when Ron's knight a minute later rather pompously punctured the game. Ron was beside himself with glee and revelling at the opportunity to gloat smugly.

"For such a brainy chick, you sure are dumb at chess," Ron said teasingly earning himself a punch in the arm.

"I'm sure you cheated yourself into this victory," Hermione retorted tetchily. "According to the Laws of Chaos, you should have lost at least once by now. There is something very suspicious about your perfect winning streak, Mr. Weasley," Hermione uttered in a most accusingly arrogant tone of voice.

Ron could see that she didn't mean it though, and instead of indulging her with a reply (which he knew she would counter without any problem) he decided to get back at her with a more bodily attack. Moments later Hermione was lying face down in the couch gasping for air and begging for mercy with Ron on top of her tickling her unmercifully.

Harry was watching the tickle-attack with slight amusement, though his thoughts were still on Professor Figg and Dumbledore. Today's revelation in Defence class had been the final blow to the dam of questions he'd cumulated over the last four years. Sitting in the couch in front of the fire he felt very much like a volcano on the verge of erupting. Anger and frustration was bubbling inside him but Harry didn't quite know how to best deal with it.

The next moment the portrait hole swung open and Ginny came climbing through followed closely by Max. The staggering events of the day had made Harry completely forget about that git and he was less than happy to find him in the presence of Ginny. She let her eyes travel and soon spotted the area where Harry and company were seated.

Harry felt sure the enormous scowl he was blatantly presenting in Max's direction would give her an idea of how he felt about him. Ginny however completely overlooked his frowning face and immediately broke into a sidesplitting laughter at the sight of Ron and Hermione in a heap of feet and arms on the couch. She abandoned Max (hurrah!) and crossed the room to Harry where she casually sat down on the arm of his chair.

"So I gather the "lovebirds" are back on speaking terms".

"Obviously," Harry answered wryly as Hermione and Ron rolled off the couch and hit the floor, taking the chess board with them. Angry chess pieces shrieked insults and profanities at the top of their petite lungs to no avail as their owners were far too busy mock fighting.

"I made them an ultimatum this afternoon they couldn't refuse," Harry said and brought Ginny up to speed on his discovery, Ron's apology and his own anger towards Dumbledore at this point. Ginny listened without interruption and after a while Ron and Hermione abandoned their good-natured fight and joined them as well.

"I think you should talk to Dumbledore," Ginny said after Harry had finished.

"Yes, that's a good idea, I think," Hermione agreed. "It's always better talking about things instead of keeping it bottled up inside. You'll feel much better about it afterwards, I'm sure."

Harry personally felt this was a funny piece of advice coming from Hermione who obviously never talked about her problems and feelings with Ron, but he knew better than to point this out. He valued the peace between his friends too much to force a confrontation at this time. But he had to admit that Ginny probably was right. Sitting here fuming over this surely wouldn't give him any answers that much were certain. So maybe a trip to Dumbledore's office wouldn't be such a bad idea. After mulling the topic over some more Harry decided to pay the Headmaster a visit the next day.

* * *

The classes seemed to drag on forever the next day and Harry found it difficult concentrating on anything. Luckily Ron and he had double Divination that morning, something that gave Harry ample opportunity to sort out all the questions he had for Dumbledore. He'd decided to wait with his visit till after dinner that night so that Dumbledore at least couldn't use pressing matters such as classes or meals as an excuse to brush Harry off and cut his visit short.

Harry was deep in thought and Ron seemed to have dozed off in the chair next to him (completely understandable due to the combination of heat, heavy fumes and utterly boring lecturing) when Professor Trelawney approached the duo. She must have addressed them more than once judging by the sniggering from the other students as well as her less than pleased facial expression.

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter." she said in her misty voice. "As soon as you find yourself back in reality from your obvious daydreaming, I would appreciate if you could turn your attention to the orb in front of you." Both boys groaned silently. Gazing into the orb was a topic already covered and needless to say neither of them had ever seen anything other than greyish smoke in their glass bowls. Their unconcealed grimacing was overlooked and their Professor continued on her speech.

"A couple of weeks ago I found myself experiencing an overwhelming urge to gaze into the orb. And as I did, I saw with great clarity the dark and dangerous future for one among us." She paused for dramatic effect, and was awarded with horrified gasps from Lavender and Parvati. Harry and Ron simply rolled their eyes and Ron leaned over to Harry whispering.

"Sorry, mate looks like your dying again." Harry simply shrugged carelessly.

"So what else is new? I hope at least I die a spectacular death this year. I have my heart set on being blasted to eternity by one of Hagrid's famous Blast-ended Skrewts."

Ron let out a loud laugh, which he quickly disguised as a huge coughing-fit, making Professor Trelawney stop and ask if he needed to go to the Infirmary. Ron shook his head vigorously and after having laid a bejewelled and bony hand on his forehead checking for possible fever, Professor Trelawney continued with her monologue.

"Seeing as my Inner Eye is so strong I managed to interpret the sights the Orb conveyed." Lavender and Parvati gasped in exhilaration and was awarded with an approving nod from the old spinster.

"It seems that one in our midst are facing dark times and that the possibility of betrayal from an allied will lead to mortal danger possibly even death."

All eyes were on Harry at this point. "Well that's good to know. Thanks for the warning," he responded sullenly. He looked over to Ron so that they could have a giggle about what surely had to be close to his fiftieth death prediction. However to Harry's shock Ron looked everything but amused.

"What's the matter with you?" Harry asked.

"Krum," was Ron's only reply. Harry stifled a laugh. "Yeah, I know. Her predictions are really crummy."

"No, no that's not what I meant," Ron hissed back. "Although under normal circumstances I would've whole-heartily agreed with you. I meant the prediction made by Krum's grandmother. The one Hermione told us about. Trelawney's prediction was quite similar to hers, don't you think?"

Come to think of it, Ron was sort of right. Only Professor Trelawney hadn't mentioned anything about this mysterious Strinx that possibly could help him against these dark dangers. He knew Hermione had put in some hours already researching this in the library, but so far she had come up empty-handed. He decided to add this prophecy-thing to his lengthy list of questions for Dumbledore this evening.

I'm in for a joyful visit, Harry thought sarcastically as he leaned back in his chair, intent on letting the misty mutterings of Professor Trelawney lull him to sleep.

* * *

In the common room later that evening Harry and Ron told the two girls about the "prediction" Professor Trelawney supposedly had seen in her Orb. Hermione was torn by the information. On the one hand she was excited over the fact that the prediction Viktor's grandmother had made now seemed to be supported, but on the other hand the fact that it was professor Trelawney who'd had backed it up didn't impress her too much. Hermione's opinion of the professor's methods and predictions could at best be described as flimsy, but the probability of two independent sources stating virtually the same thing, couldn't be overlooked.

"You need to tell the Headmaster about this, you do realize that?" she asked Harry. He nodded despondingly.

"Yeah, I know. I have already extended my list of questions to include this prophecy-thing or whatever I should call it."

"Good, I think we certainly could use a second opinion about all this," said Ron animatedly.

He was currently pacing up and down in front of the fireplace, looking jittery. "I mean, even Hermione here haven't been able to find out squat about this Strinx-thingy yet. And people, we are talking about the girl who spends more time in the presence of books than human beings. That is alarming! It's even shocking. I would perhaps go as far as saying it is flummoxing!" Ron sent Hermione a mischievous grin and easily dodged the pillow she threw at him.

"Watch it, tiger! Don't hurt me before I have a chance to try out for the House team."

"Oh," Hermione retorted teasingly, "Just think of it as extra Bludger dodging practice. From where I'm standing it looks like you need it too!"

She hardly managed to finish her sentence before another pillow hit her.

"Now you're asking for it!" she shrieked and started chasing a risible Ron around the common room.

"Now, now kids," Ginny said admonishingly and managed to grab hold of the two of them as they whirled passed her. Crossing her arms dauntingly she did a striking imitation of Mrs. Hooch when refereeing. "That is quite enough of this nonsense. Now shake hands like grown-ups and stop this incisive flirting. Nothing good will come of that, I can assure you." She smiled evilly as her words efficiently silenced them and they whirled around giving her something that can only be described as the evil eye.

"We are most certainly not flirting!" Ron bellowed at his sister, whom Harry could see was thoroughly enjoying the situation. You little devil, Harry thought with a grin. She really was a firecracker, that one.

"You take that back, Ginny, this instant. How can you even suggest something that preposterous? That is Hermione, you know! Hermione! Flirting, my arse. I never flirt with anyone, but when I do I can assure you it will be nothing like this." Ron's face was completely flushed and his ears had never been redder. Ginny winked at Harry and mouthed the word "denial".

Hermione had so far not said a word, but she too had turned a rather dark shade of red. She seemed on the verge of eruption as well, but when she opened her mouth, her anger wasn't directed at Ginny.

"So, Ronald," she began coolly. Her voice was dripping ice. Ron winced as she spoke. She had called him Ronald, and he knew that wasn't a good sign. Oh no, he thought miserably. I've done it again.

"Flirting with me is preposterous, now is it?" She emphasized the word preposterous as she eyed him angrily. "Well, thank you very much for that enormous compliment. I suppose because I lack the voluminous breasts of Lavender and the beautiful face of Fleur, that makes me not flirt-worthy or something." She spat the words at him.

"Well, just for the record I would like to state that I am relieved to find that you're not attempting to flirt with me, for I can assure you it wouldn't have worked anyway. Not by a long shot!!"

And with that she turned on her heal and headed out of the portrait hole slamming it shut with a bang.

"Smooth," Ginny said sarcastically and patted her brother on the back. "That really did the trick I think."

"Yeah, way to go Ron! Now I know who to turn to for advice on my love life in the future," Harry said as he too headed for portrait. "Or on second thought, maybe not."

Ron was scratching his neck looking utterly confused. "But I wasn't flirting," he said in despair.

"Whatever you say, Ron," Harry said and climbed out into the corridor. "Whatever you say."