Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Ten:

The Sleepwalker

Harry and Hermione never noticed the person standing in the Entrance Hall watching transfixed as they hugged. So when they returned to the Gryffindor common room minutes later both were quite oblivious to the fact that they'd been observed. They found Ron sitting in one of the good squashy armchairs by the fire skimming through a book and trying very hard to look unaffected. Given that he'd just stormed off in a towering rage and that he never recovered this swiftly from his temperamental fits, both knew perfectly well that this sudden serenity was just pretence.

Though he could perhaps have done a better job at pretending, Hermione thought as she tiptoed past him on her way to her dormitory. She arched an eyebrow as she noticed that the book Ron appeared to be intently engrossed in was Lavender's make-up book. And as if this wasn't disturbing enough, he also seemed to have developed a recent inclination to read up side down. Normally Hermione would've deliberately pointed this out and thereby most likely initiated a bickering of sorts, but tonight she couldn't do it. She was way too embarrassed and hurt to even talk to him right now, and so without so much as a single word she retreated to her dormitory.

Harry however dumped unceremoniously down in the chair next to Ron and tried to strike up a conversation. As Harry went on and on about a new spell he'd learned from the book Sirius had sent him for his birthday, Ron found it amazing how calm and passé Harry acted even though he only minutes before had embraced and hugged Hermione.

How could they hide this from him? Ron wouldn't have thought it possible if he hadn't witnessed it firsthand. Harry and Hermione? Somehow it just didn't feel right with him. Although there had actually been occasions where he'd wondered if perhaps he was missing something and now the sneaking suspicion that had crept up on him the last couple of weeks had just been verified. All the strange looks he'd watched them share lately that somehow didn't include him combined with the scene on the stairs just now left little doubt in Ron's mind - his two best friends was falling in love. And it hurt.

After a few excruciating minutes of listening to Harry's pointless gabber Ron felt so resentful towards him that he feared he might become overly tempted to hex his so-called best friend into muteness if he stayed in his vicinity much longer. Claiming he was knackered after the tryout Ron cut a surprised-looking Harry off in mid-sentence and headed up to bed early.

Thankfully the dormitory was empty (save Trevor the toad who was lurking near Seamus's dirty underwear for reasons Ron did not want to know). Ron dived ungracefully down on his bed letting out a loud grunting noise in the process, a result of trying to sigh and groan simultaneously. He pulled the hangings shut with a violent jerk that caused it to partly unhinge itself from the curtain rod and buried his face in the pillows.

He wanted to scream out loud. The pain in his chest was boarding on unbearable. It actually felt as though he'd just swallowed half a dozen Dungbombs or worse something Fred and George had concoct. It had taken all of Ron's willpower not to start yelling at both Hermione and Harry when they'd entered the common room, but for reasons he didn't quite understand something had held him back. But the nerve of it all - hiding a relationship behind his back! That was just - unfriendly!

Continuing to utter a line of steadily louder grunts, Ron flipped abruptly over on his back and began counting lose threads in his canopy in a useless attempt to put the whole thing out of his mind. He didn't know it was possible to feel so many different emotions at once and it actually felt like he was about to explode. Abandoning his thread-counting Ron eventually decided to deal with the experience head on and try to sort out the wide range of emotions that was seeping through him at the moment.

Ron's first reaction to the hug had been extreme hurt, followed closely by an overwhelming anger that had culminated in a deep sense of betrayal. The betrayal bit he understood. After all this was his two best friends who'd intentionally neglected to share with him what was happening between them. He had been left out purposely and after more than four years of sharing everything that did not go down well in Ron's books.

A natural reaction to betrayal was anger, so that was perfectly understandable too. But the hurt bit was troubling him. He'd felt a similar feeling at the Yule Ball last year when he'd discovered that Hermione was going with Krum, but still this was completely different.

Ron lay like that for hours trying desperately to make sense of his feelings. A substantial amount of time must have passed because eventually he heard the other boys come in and get to bed. Soon after the dormitory was filled with the sound of Neville's familiar snoring combined with the other boys' heavy breathing.

After a good amount of tossing and turning (he was unable to find a comfortable sleeping position for odd reasons), Ron drifted off to an uneasy sleep. But although his body might have seized the opportunity for some much-deserved sleep, it seemed that his brain was still working overtime. A few hours later before the sun had risen, Ron suddenly woke with start. His breath was ragged, his heartbeat fast and pounding. An epiphany so clear it was frightening had been subconsciously reached and quickly he scanned the dormitory as if he feared the other boys somehow had shared his dream and was lurking just outside his field of vision waiting to tease him senseless.

Luckily they were all fast asleep (though Harry seemed to be tossing and turning something awfully) and totally unaware of Ron's personal revelation. He wiped his brow and let out a relieved breath he didn't know he'd been holding in the first place. Because at that precise moment Ron knew exactly what his hostile feelings to Krum meant and why last night's display between Harry and Hermione had made him both angry and sad.

He was bloody in love with Hermione Granger!

*

For obvious reasons, Ron kept this life-altering realization to himself. Despite being extremely jealous of Harry, Ron decided to avoid the use of last year's Krum-approach (which had been yelling at and cursing the parties involved), as it had only proved disastrous in the past. He knew he couldn't win her heart like that anyway, and even though he frequently denied listening to his mum's lessons on common practice and good manners, he couldn't help but hear her voice in his head urging him to do the right thing and step back. Besides he mused, if Harry and Hermione really did fancy each other, why should he announce his feelings and make them all feel awkward? Not to mention that he would embarrass himself royally in the process by coming across as the miserable sidekick loser he really was.

And knowing the true and noble Boy Who Lived, Harry would probably shut Hermione out of his life permanently if he thought it bothered him, thus making all their lives miserable. That again would leave them with three unhappy people and though Ron came out with the raw end of the deal, there was no denying that two happy people and one miserable was a much better turnout in the grand scheme of things.

Besides, Ron didn't want a spoiled relationship on his conscious, even if it would hurt tremendously to see them together. Naturally he realized that it would be hard keeping up a happy façade with his friends, especially knowing his own uncontrollable temper and the fact that he was not especially good at camouflaging his feelings. But, he reasoned, there was still a slight possibility that Harry had only comforted Hermione because he himself had acted like a complete and insufferable git. Deep down however he knew he was only kidding himself, but it kept him sane at least for the time being.

But as days passed without Ron noticing anything strange or even slightly romantic between Harry and Hermione, his spirits were soon restored much to normal, something that came as a great relief to both Hermione and Harry. Ron had been unusually quiet lately and the silence was starting to get to Harry.

Normally he'd have trouble making Ron shut up at times as he constantly rambled on about everything, nothing and then some. Lately however Harry had considered himself lucky if he'd managed to wrestle monosyllables out of him. Not to mention that he'd taken to give Hermione and him some utterly bizarre looks when he thought they weren't paying attention. Clearly something was bothering Ron, but Harry was damned if he knew what it was. Ron usually spat it out if something was bothering him.

Harry had first thought it was the disappointment from the tryout combined with a towering anger towards George that was the source of it, but as the days went by without any change he'd started to suspect that perhaps there was more to it. Harry had a nagging feeling that this somehow had something to do with Hermione and the scene he'd caught a glimpse of outside the castle, but he didn't know how to talk to Ron about it. But eventually Ron returned to his old self again and Harry decided not to pursue the topic.

* *

It soon became painfully obvious to all the fifth years that the OWLs were approaching. Homework was piling up and the lessons seemed to grow in complexity by the minute. Even Hermione found the workload heavy, and shocked both boys one evening as she forcefully threw her potions essay on the floor swearing and cursing in frustration.

"Now, now Hermione, calm yourself," Ron chided playfully, a huge grin plastered all over his face. She looked simply adorable when she was mad, he thought as he watched her frown at him from across the table. "This is hardly an appropriate way of conduct for a Prefect such as yourself. What would McGonagall say?" He faked a look of outrage and shook his head disbelievingly like he'd just been scolding a young disobedient child.

"Oh, eat slugs Ron!" Hermione replied trying to look annoyed but failing miserably.

"I think I'll pass on those, if you don't mind" Ron said coolly. "I've had the discomfort of spewing those devils on a previous occasion and believe me when I tell you that they're no treat." Ron's remark made Harry and Hermione burst out laughing at the memory while Ron pretended to pout.

Hermione was laughing so hard tears were running down her cheeks. Not that the joke had been particularly funny, but there was so much pent up emotion inside her and she desperately needed to let it out somehow. And laughing like mad was much better than crying her eyes off, especially since it only made the boys so utterly uncomfortable when she did. No, laughter was definitely a better way of handling it.

She looked over at Ron, who appeared slightly aggravated at their amusement. She silently wondered if he realized how gorgeous he was when he was pretending to sulk like that, and immediately felt her face flush. The unwelcome blush was thankfully effectively hidden in her hands as she crouched over the table trying desperately to gain control over her laughing fit.

Every once in a while she would steal a small glances at him through the gaps of her fingers. He'd grown over the summer, she noticed. He was taller (if possible), but some of his lankiness had gone as he'd filled out more. His shoulders were broader too, and his arms seemed more muscular than before. Had he been working out, she wondered and found herself blushing slightly. Having finally recovered from her gales of laughter, she straightened up again and forced her attention over too Harry out of fear that Ron would realize that she was checking him out. God forbid.

Harry had grown too, all though he wasn't even nearly as tall as Ron. Quidditch was clearly agreeing with him, because he too had filled out and didn't seem at all as skinny and scrawny as he used to be. Her two best friends were growing into handsome young men, she realized and the realization was scaring her. Everything was changing so fast. With the return of He Who Should Not Be Named, strange new emotions and demanding schoolwork, this really was a turning point in their lives.

We're in no man's land now, she thought feeling a strange kind of sadness creeping into her heart. No longer kids but not quite grown up either - the most difficult place to be, really. Just hope we get through it without too many scars, she thought with a mournful look at both the boys. Somehow she doubted they would be so lucky...

Their laughing fit eventually died down, and all three returned their concentration to their homework.

* *

For Harry Quidditch practice had suddenly become doubly enjoyable. He found himself counting the hours until the next practice, and although he hated to admit it, the fact remained that this had a lot to do with the presence of a certain red-haired reserve Chaser.

During their first formal practice under the new reign of King George as he now insisted they all call him, Harry had a surprisingly hard time concentrating on his flying. Though soaring through the air was as exhilarating and invigorating as ever and his precious Firebolt still a superbly excellent broom, watching out for and catching the Snitch had somehow seemed like a dull triviality he shouldn't have to bother with at all. Especially with so many other fascinating things to occupy his eyes with. Like gawking at Ginny for instance...

Later an amused Katie Bell had told him that the Snitch had literally tap-danced on his nose without him noticing, and after flying straight into the highest hoop causing his precious Firebolt to shed twigs, King George himself had swept down from his throne to have words with him. Harry had been quick to blame his absent-minded flying on the upcoming Potions test, but wasn't entirely sure George had bought this explanation (it wasn't as if Snape was there to set it or anything). After that Harry made a point not to look at Ginny at practice, and although this proved quite hard at first, at least it helped his flying.

After a couple of weeks he'd grown more accustomed to her presence, and managed to keep his mind focused on spotting the Snitch. And to his teammates great enthusiasm Harry's moves and dives was better and more spectacular than ever despite last year's Quidditch drought.

"Keep up this splendour," Fred said cheerfully after a particular good practice, "and even Viktor Krum will be turning to you for advice before you know it!" Harry seriously believed that would ever happen but definitely appreciated the comment nonetheless.

*

Harry liked to take his time in the changing room after practice. It was nice to be able to shower for as long as he wanted without the stressful sound of four other impatient boys banging on the door for him to finish. His other teammates were unsurprisingly long gone when he finally stepped out of the shower. A quick glance at his watch told Harry that he had missed dinner, and accompanied by a series of loud complaining growls from his now very empty stomach, he began to dress at full tilt. If he hurried he might be able to scrounge some food from the house elves before they left the kitchen to tend to other chores. For once he actually wanted to talk to Dobby!

Eager to get there as quickly as possible, he began gathering his stuff. Figuring that the chance of running into someone on his way up to the castle at this time of day was slim to none, Harry didn't bother to button-up his shirt properly thinking he could do that on the way. Swinging his bag haphazardly over his shoulder and running out the door thinking longingly about mouth-watering pasties and the like - he bumped straight into - Ginny!

"Ouch!" she cried out, hopefully in surprise and not pain Harry thought fleetingly as the full impact of their collision sent them both sprawling to the ground. Ginny landed on her back and her bag burst open scattering clothes and quidditch supplies all over the place. Harry however was left standing trying desperately to gain his balance, swinging back and forth on the back of his heels like an out of control rocking chair, before he too gave in to the forces of gravity and toppled towards the ground. Realizing he was about to land on top of Ginny, he made a desperate attempt to avoid squishing her completely by throwing out his arms to block the landing. She did the same and seconds later he found his face only inches away from her. Her hands was on his bare chest, a touch that made him tremble and his heart flutter in a very out-of-control manner. Their eyes met, and for what felt like an eternity he was unable to move or blink. She really had the most beautiful eyes...

Harry's throat was feeling uncomfortably dry and compressed and at the moment quite unsuited for producing coherent human speech. Judging by the way Ginny's mouth kept opening and closing without producing audible sound, Harry deduced that she too was experiencing some difficulty speaking. She wasn't moving either, but suddenly she (regrettably, Harry thought) seemed to realize where her hands were.

Letting out a small squeak, she pulled them back quickly as though she'd just experienced a very painful burning sensation. This effectively brought Harry back to reality, only his response time seemed to be a little dulled. Because when Ginny retracted her hands, Harry yet again lost his balance and next he knew his face was wedged very much on top of her chest. The situation was now getting horribly embarrassing, and feeling his face take on the very unbecoming colour of puce, Harry quickly rolled off her.

"S-s-sorry," he managed to say pointedly avoiding her eyes. How could he be so clumsy? He desperately searched for something smart to say. A funny remark to smooth the situation over would be most welcome at this point, but nothing came to mind. He really was the biggest klutz ever!

"Don't worry about it," Ginny stuttered almost inaudibly. She had scrambled to a sitting position surveying the mess of scattered Quidditch supplies with evident dejection.

" I'll help you gather up your stuff," Harry offered eager for the chance to break the awkward silence between them. Jumping to his feet he reached for her bag and hastily began to pick up the clothes from the ground. If he couldn't say anything smart at least he could do something helpful, he reasoned. He couldn't believe he'd just put his face on her breasts! Needless to say he was beating himself up inwardly. Somehow Harry couldn't really see how sexually assaulting her in this manner would improve his chances with her.

While Harry continued his silent admonishment Ginny had managed to scramble to her feet. Her mind was slowly starting to work again though it still seemed to be partly paralysed. Stringing together coherent sentences for instance was still rather difficult. The shock of having Harry on top of her like that had momentarily immobilized her brain and she'd been lost in those beautiful green eyes of his for what felt like hours.

What must he think, she thought bashfully. Staring at him like that; it was unbelievable. Just when she'd made such great progress and stopped blushing like a tomato every time he was around, she had to go ahead and spend minutes openly goggling and practically eating him up with her eyes. Not to mention the hands.

Just the thought of her hands on his bare chest made her blush once more in pure mortification. She didn't even know if it was possible to blush on top of another blush, but was sure she'd just done it. I probably look like the spitting image of an overripe eggplant now, she thought sulkily. Well, she reflected with a frown, at least this will make him notice me all right!

She looked over at Harry who was now busy picking up her clothes. The silence between them was unbearable, making the awkward situation even worse. "Thank you, Harry. That's really nice of you to help me," she said quietly. He stopped and turned towards her. His shirt was still open, and although she did a heartfelt attempt to avoid looking at his chest, her deceiving eyes did not cooperate in the slightest. Naturally Harry noticed her stare and quickly covered his chest making Ginny put on a third coat of blush on her all ready burgundy cheeks.

Harry started to clumsily button up his shirt, but with little success. This was turning out disastrous. Honestly, he did this every bloody morning in a sleepy daze! Why couldn't his fingers perform even the simplest of tasks around her? Harry was seriously considering to forget about the blasted shirt and simply don his robes to hide the scrawny chest altogether.

But then suddenly out of nowhere Ginny started to laugh. Surprised he turned his head towards her and found her doubled over on the ground laughing like mad. The sound of her laughter eased the situation, and Harry found himself grinning widely at her. She was clutching her stomach, tears clearly running down her cheeks.

"What?" he asked amused. "Do you find my lacking ability to dress myself properly amusing, Ms. Weasley?"

She nodded. "Yes, very much so," she answered between giggles. "Especially when you try to button up your shirt while with your fingers intertwined in my undergarments."

Harry stopped in the middle of his fifth unsuccessful attempt to force the top button through the small hole, shocked to the core at her words. Slowly he lowered his eyes and blushed crimson. She was indeed right. Harry's fingers were unmistakably laced around her bra. The situation was now so ridiculous that he couldn't help laughing himself, and they lay like that laughing and giggling for a long time before returning to the castle, undergarments and bare chests totally forgotten.

When they entered the common room they found Ron and Hermione bickering as usual. Harry was relieved to discover that their argument was good-natured this time.

"I see those two are back to their usual mode of flirting," Ginny whispered in his ear and Harry just smiled. "Apparently. Still determent to play matchmaker if they don't get on with it soon?"

"Absolutely! Don't tell me you prefer to keep them in this state for much longer?"

Harry snickered. "Not if I can help it. They're getting horribly annoying to tell the truth!"

*

That evening Harry filled Ginny in on his conversation with Dumbledore about the Strinx. Hermione had spent most of her little spare time in the library trying to find out more about it, but so far without much success. Ginny instantly offered to help her search and with a reproachful look in Ron's direction Hermione gratefully accepted (he'd adamantly refused to do "library-duty" claiming the dusty environment wrecked havoc with his mucous membrane). Ron however expertly ignored her and the girls soon left them to their own devices.

"So," Ron said looking interrogatingly at Harry, "what took you two so long? The others came back from practice long before you did. Anything I should know about?"

The look on Ron's face made Harry blush slightly. "Oh, nothing special," he said in what he hoped would be perceived as an easy tone of voice. "I haven't really spoken much to Ginny after we left the Burrow, and I thought that if I walked her back, at least Max would leave her alone. I saw him lurking around outside the changing room, obviously waiting for her. I just beat him to it, that's all."

Ron cracked a huge smile. Inwardly Harry cringed from the evident lie. "That's the spirit, Harry," he said grinning almost evilly. "Sorry you had to endure Ginny's rambling for so long though." He snickered. "She can be a nightmare sometimes."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Harry replied and stole a glance at the girl in question.

* *

Incidentally, Ginny and Harry were not the only two people to have embarrassing run-ins that week. In fact the very next morning Ron woke with a jolt and tearing his hangings aside he found the dormitory oddly quiet, something that could only mean one thing: He'd overslept again!

Cursing the other guys for not waking him (though truthfully he suspected they had given it their best shot), Ron rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a dull thud. Stretching a long arm up to his bedside table he grabbed his wand and did a quick Time Spell. Eyes widening in silent disbelief, he jumped to his feet and began dressing at a lethal pace. Judging by the loud thundering echoing quite clearly from his stomach he really should eat something before the lesson began or the Professor might end up taking points from him for disturbing the class.

A nanosecond later, and with his jumper and robe in one hand and the other one busily trying to tuck his shirt into his trousers, Ron took the stairs two at a time, opened the portrait with a bang, literally fell through the hole onto the corridor and swung around the corner at Firebolt speed. Little did he know that on the other side of the portrait hole Hermione was standing balancing a plate of sandwiches and a goblet of pumpkin juice that she'd kindly secured for Ron knowing how edgy he was without his breakfast. Her mouth was half open to give the Fat Lady the password when the inevitable happened.

Being hit by the full force of one Ronald Weasley was quite painful Hermione noted numbly from her position half squashed against the wall. Petite as she was, she'd been transported quite a distance before they'd come to complete stop on the other end of the corridor opposite the portrait. The delicate bacon sandwiches were wedged somewhere between Ron and her by the feel of it and both were dripping with pumpkin juice. Normally getting all drenched in juice would make her quite furious, but the fact that Ron's lips had just brushed her chin unintentionally had somehow made her forget completely about the sticky state of her hair and the squashed sandwich on her robe. She was painfully aware of how close Ron was. She could feel his breath on her neck, and she was sure she'd temporarily lost her voice.

Ron stood frozen to the spot. He had Hermione's warm body (or was that just him boiling from her presence?) pressed against the wall. He couldn't move. Hell, if truth were told he didn't even want to move. This was nice. She smelled really good he noticed, a flowery sensual scent that was just so Hermione. That and pumpkin juice... Ron fleetingly considered licking away the drop of juice that was alluringly dangling from her earlobe, but caught himself in time. Talk about inappropriate thoughts, what would his mother say if she knew? And you just didn't lick a prefect!

The sound of running feet in the corridor finally woke them from their trance and muttering some lame excuses they headed off in different directions. When they met up in Defence against the Dark Arts minutes later (Hermione had the good sense to change her robe), they deliberately chose seats on either side of Harry, pointedly avoiding looking each other in the eyes.

Next to her Harry was groaning openly, clearly suspecting another row. Hermione gave him a piercing stare and muttering something about annoying friends he opened his book and pretended to read while puffing and huffing every other second. Hermione ignored him and went about setting up her own desk. She could feel Ron's eyes on her and although she didn't dare to look she was certain his ears were red. Hermione's own cheeks were in no better shape however, a telltale blush permanently attached and refusing to subside in intensity. Please let Professor Figg get here soon, she prayed silently. She needed a distraction and that fast!

Harry glanced from the one to the other wondering what had happened to make them look this embarrassed, but before he could ask them about it Professor Figg stepped into the room and the class fell silent. I will have to ask them later, he decided. Just hope they haven't had another fight; this is really getting old.

"Settle down, class! Today we're going to practice fighting one of the Unforgivable Curses."

Professor Figg's opening remark however made Harry instantly forget all about bickering friends. The entire class gasped collectively and Neville was once again looking like he'd forgotten how to breathe, his face oddly void of colour. This wasn't the first time that someone had broached the subject of Unforgivable Curses though. They'd witnessed some rather misfortunate spiders being subjected to these curses last year under the fake Professor Moody and despite it being quite educational, none of them held any particular fond memories of that lesson, least of all Harry.

The fake Moody had even gone as far as to subject them to the Imperius curse making them do the most astonishing things. Harry had almost fought it on his first attempt and Moody had been so impressed he'd put it on him continuously until he could throw it off completely. Harry's knees hurt just thinking about it. But despite his success at fighting it, the whole experience just brought back some bad memories all together and involuntarily Harry shivered in his seat.

"I know you've all ready had some experience with these curses," professor Figg said with a sympathetic look at the shaking class. "I hear your last professor (here she wrinkled her nose in evident distaste) went as far as to demonstrate both the Cruciatus and the Killing Curse in class, but I can assure you this will not be repeated." The students instantly let out relieved breaths and Neville even went as far as to cry out a loud whoop of joy.

"Settle down, please," professor Figg said calmly with a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Though all of them are considered Unforgivable, and the use of any of these with evil intentions will land you a life sentence in Azkaban, there are still a distinct ranking of malignity between the three."

She paused for a second and the classroom became scarily silent. This was news to them; Moody had never mentioned anything about this last year! The silence broke a moment later when virtually everyone lunged for their bags, extracting quills and parchment at record time.

Looking thoroughly pleased with herself, professor Figg continued. "As you might guess the Killing Curse or the Avada Kedavra Curse as it's also called, is by far the worst of the three. There has never been a case of someone getting off without punishment after performing this curse. True, a witch named Tristina Haggleworth was granted some lenience after she performed the curse as a last resort when she was attacked by a herd of vicious giants approximately three hundred years ago, but despite this exception I heartily advice against using this curse. Not unless you fancy spending the rest of your life surrounded by Dementors, that is."

Quills were scratching furiously all over the classroom. Even Ron had his face screwed up in concentration and were busily taking notes like there was no tomorrow. Professor Figg rose from her chair and stepped in front of her desk.

"But I hope you all agree that there are plenty of other useful spells and hexes to choose from should you find yourself in mortal peril. We will dedicate most of next term to learning and practising a range those spells."

"There are two main reasons for why Avada Kedavra is perceived as the worst curse known to wizard kind. Firstly because it leaves the victim cold dead, and secondly because it's totally unblockable and a counter-curse has yet to be discovered. In other words: It's fatal. Only one person has ever escaped with his life intact after being hit by the Avada Kedavra and experts are still mystified as to why."

Harry felt like apparating. Though he desisted from checking, he could feel everyone staring at him. Why did Figg have to bring up that now? Everyone knew this already and she knew perfectly well that he hated the attention it brought. Pretending to find his frayed quill immensely fascinating, he crouched over his desk. Next she'll probably insist I retell everything I know about my encounter with it, Harry thought angrily casting a furious glance in the professor's direction. She didn't take any notice of his glare, but thankfully she let the matter rest with that.

"Now, the second worst of the Unforgivable Three is the Cruciatus Curse. Being hit by this will not kill you, though you might come to wish that it had. It's pain beyond anything you can imagine and unsurprisingly it's Voldemort's (waves of shudders passed through major parts of the classroom) favourite form of torture."

At this point professor Figg hopped off the desk that she'd been sitting on for the last couple of minutes and began circling around the room as she spoke. "Even if it technically isn't fatal there are some atrocious side effects to it. Sadly there's an entire ward at St. Mungo's dedicated to care for victims of the Cruciatus. Subjected to this unbearable pain for too long and brain damage is often the tragic result."

Harry chanced a quick look at Neville. He'd learned from Dumbledore's Pensive the year before that his parents had been put under the Cruciatus for long periods and were currently residents of said hospital. Surprisingly Neville looked quite calm, Harry noted with a frown. Last year when Moody had talked about and demonstrated this curse, he'd been shaking like a leaf looking practically translucent. Neville suddenly whipped around and looked Harry straight in the eye, a defiant gleam in his eyes as if daring him to say anything about it. Harry quickly turned away from him. Did Neville know that he knew? Had Dumbledore told him perhaps? Professor Figg continued to lecture about the curse and Harry turned his focus back to her.

"Horrible as this curse undoubtedly is," she was saying, "there are a few upsides to this curse compared to the Avada Kedavra. As I mentioned earlier, it's not fatal and if you're not subjected to it for long periods at a time you'll probably escape without any physical damage. Secondly, it's blockable."

"What!" Harry exclaimed hotly. "Why hasn't anyone told us this earlier? I could have blocked the fucking thing last year, and nobody bothered teaching us this?" Loud cries echoed from the entire class, but not for the same reason as Harry had reacted.

"You've been hit by the Cruciatus?" Seamus asked in a shaky sort of voice, eyeing Harry with newfound respect. Realizing he'd just disclosed a carefully concealed secret (at least to the majority of the school), he groaned openly.

"Well, yes Voldemort put it on me after he'd killed Cedric," he said matter-of-factly, eager to get back to the matter at hand, namely learning how to block it.

"How many times?" Parvati enquired looking star struck. "Twice, but that's not important..." Harry answered tetchily giving professor Figg a piercing stare. "What did it feel like? Is it true like Professor Figg is saying that you want to die when you're under it?" Dean asked with wide eyes.

"Oh for goodness sake!" Hermione cried out in exasperation. "Have some heart and leave the awkward questions alone already. Would any of you like to expose every gory detail if you'd been tortured by the most evil wizard know to man?" Her face was blotchy and flushed, her eyes shooting daggers in all directions. Scary though she looked, Harry felt a wave of gratitude to her for breaking through this nonsense. Apparently professor Figg was of the same opinion.

"Okay class, that is quite enough. I urge you please not to badger Mr. Potter further on this matter. It's personal and if he wants to talk about I'm sure he'll come to you. Now as for blocking it, that involves quite a bit of advanced magic and will be attempted taught in your sixth year." Harry was inches away from screaming out his disagreement for waiting that long, but professor Figg silenced him with a stern look. "However if some people are anxious to learn about it early, I suggest you step into the library and start researching the subject. Please feel free to start practising the block, it's equally harmless as it is difficult." Leaving no doubt that the topic was now closed for discussion she swept up to her desk again and turned around to face them.

"This leads us to the third of the Unforgivables, the Imperius Curse. As you've probably deduced by now, this is the curse we'll practice the next couple of weeks. When put under the Imperius one is placed under the command of the wizard who administered it. You'll be compelled to obey their every whim. Unless you're able to fight it that is..."

"Oh come on, professor," Lavender whined two seats behind Harry. "We learned all about this last year. Shouldn't we learn something new this term instead?" Professor Figg looked at Lavender with raised eyebrows. "Tell me, Ms. Brown, did you manage to fight it off?" Seamus instantly began snickering and the rest of the class tried furtively to hide their amusement. "Not exactly," she muttered.

"Then I suggest we practise it some more. Professor Dumbledore is of the firm opinion that given the recent developments you should all be allowed to practise fighting this." Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged some rather worried looks before Professor Figg plunged into a lengthy review of the theory around the curse. The trick she explained was to stay focused on the fact that however tempting the soothing voice giving the orders was it should not be followed. Listen to the little voice in the back of your head instead, she explained and giving the students what she obviously thought was an encouraging smile, she signalled that it was time for them to try. None of them however looked particularly reassured.

And with good reason it turned out. "Won't you be in terrible trouble with the Ministry for putting an Unforgivable on students?" Neville asked shakily clearly looking for a way out of them impending embarrassment. "Nice try, Mr. Longbottom," Figg said with a cheeky grin, "but the Headmaster has cleared it with the Minister personally so it's all quite legal this time, have no worries." Neville however looked far from assured that much was certain.

For the next couple of minutes Harry, Hermione and Ron watched with some amusement as Parvati was put under the curse and commanded to perform a series of splendid cartwheels (which made her skirt fly up and show her underpants much to Seamus's great pleasure). Neville continued the show with a shrill and highly out off tune version of the Muggle song Purple Rain while Dean Thomas was encouraged to dance enthusiastically around the room like a younger version of Leroy from the 80's Muggle TV-series Fame. Hermione and Harry giggled madly at the similarity between Dean and the dancer, but Ron who'd (fortunately, some might say) never seen that show just stared blankly at them.

None of them seem to be able to resist the curse and when the turn came to Hermione she was about as successful as her predecessors. In other words, she too failed miserably and ended up jumping around the classroom like a scared kangaroo (Ron almost wet himself, pushing the image right up along with Malfoy the amazing bouncing ferret as one of his personal favourites). Naturally she looked utterly embarrassed afterwards and refusing to even look at them she hastily buried her nose in a book. Harry knew Hermione despised being rubbish at something, and fighting clearly the Imperius was hardly something one could learn out of a book.

Harry was up next. Looking around the classroom he was met by a horde of expectant faces. Clearly they all expected him to do it. Well, he thought dejectedly, he was the sole survivor of the Avada Kedava known to man, and fighting the Imperius should theoretically be a piece of cake in comparison, shouldn't it? Harry knew they were all thinking this, and it only made him all the more nervous. His hands were trembling slightly as he walked up to the chalkboard. He hated the pressure and the anticipations for him to perform brilliantly that followed being the Boy Who Lived. Why can't I be Ron, he thought pleadingly and closed his eyes waiting for the inevitable?

From behind him he heard Professor Figg cry "Imperio!"

Instantly it was as if his head was filled with light, amused thoughts. A wonderful floating sensation rushed through him and soon the soothing voice of Professor Figg filled his head urging him to pick up the pointer and use it as a make-believe guitar. Imitating a livid guitar solo, she implored and Harry felt his hands itching to get to it. It was awfully tempting and instantly he reached out for the pointer by Professor Figg's desk. Off course he would play a guitar solo. That would be simply fantastic!

But what was that? If he strained his ears, Harry thought he could make out the faint sound of a distant voice echoing from somewhere in the back of his mind. It was awfully muffled, though. Almost as if someone was talking with a lot of cotton stuffed into their mouth. Probably nothing worth paying attention to though, he thought blissfully. Why bother listening to that when this other voice was so much more pleasurable?

Harry began tiptoeing over to the desk, eyeing the pointer longingly. But just as he was about to reach for it, the other muffled voice began bugging him again. Why would this be fantastic? Wouldn't it rather be quite embarrassing? Whoever was speaking must have removed some of the cotton, because Harry could now make out what he was saying. It was still fairly distant, but there was no doubt it was begging to retract his arm.

It was rather difficult to hear this small voice over the other soothing one, and a part of him just wanted to ignore it. Another part of him however disagreed. For a moment the argument between the loud and the small voice raged inside him. It was quite confusing actually and Harry's head was starting to ache slightly from the strain. Go with your gut feeling, he advised himself wearily. It's usually the safest bet anyway.

So gathering up all the concentration he could muster Harry willed himself to listen to the distant voice. No, he thought. The voice in the back is telling me no. His hand froze in midair. Be sensible, he thought grinding his teeth. Say no. Once again Harry gathered his every will power and told himself to stop. He would not make a mockery of himself playing air-guitar. No way. And suddenly he felt the floating beautiful feeling leave his body, the voice fading little by little, finally disappearing altogether.

"No!" he cried out and stepped away from the pointer.

The class erupted in loud cheers and applause. Harry Potter had done it again.

"Well done, Harry," Professor Figg said sounding both proud as well as a bit astonished. "You're the first student so far to completely fight off the curse, and on your first try as well. Not many wizards your age are able to do that." She turned to the class. "In theory everyone can learn how to do so, but for some it will be more difficult than others. Please do not think badly of yourself should this be the case. It probably just means that you will enhance to greater levels in other fields of magic. It is common for every witch and wizards to have one field of magic which they excel in, a rare few may show special skills in more."

When Harry returned to his seat Hermione gave him a small smile. She still looked a bit miffed about her own failure earlier, but Harry had a feeling it was only a matter of time before she too could throw the curse. Ron on the other hand was enthusiastically giving him the thumbs-up. Harry grinned at his friend and mouthed "good luck" as Ron was up next. He just shrugged indifferently giving Harry the distinct feeling that he didn't have much confidence in his own ability to do it. Ron was always putting himself down like that, thinking he wasn't any good at anything. Too bad, Harry thought. Ron really was a great wizard, he just didn't believe so himself. We have to work on his self esteem one of these days, Harry decided. This I'm-not-as-good-as-any-of-my-five-brilliant-brothers routine was really getting old.

Professor Figg had barely finished the curse before Ron sprang into action. Immediately he trotted towards the blackboard and reached for a piece of chalk.

Come on, Ron Harry muttered desperately trying to will him to fight it. Fight it. You can do it.

His prayers didn't seem to have any visible effect though. Ron's fingers were now merely inches from the chalk. Next to him Harry heard Hermione mumbling something incoherently, but he thought he could make out the words "you're great" and "I believe in you", though he wasn't entirely sure. She was crossing her fingers and surprisingly Harry found himself doing the same.

The rest of the class was starting to giggle slightly as they expected Ron to crack at any second adding to their entertainment of the day. But to everyone's surprise Ron suddenly jumped back from the blackboard, threw his hands up in the air and screamed "NO!" on top of his lungs. The classroom was dead silent except from the sound of Ron's ragged breathing. Professor Figg smiled broadly and Harry and Hermione broke into load cheers and soon the rest of the class followed suit. Ron had done it!

Ron was red as a beetroot but the grin on his face was so wide Harry was afraid he might have dislocated his jaw. Hermione had already left her desk, and was currently giving Ron one of her bone crushing hugs that seemed to scare him so much. For once he didn't seem to mind in the slightest and Harry too rushed forward to congratulating him. Ron had never looked more proud, and it didn't take long for the juicy rumours from this class to spread around Hogwarts: Not only had Harry Potter been put under the Cruciatus, but he and Ron Weasley had both completely fought off the Imperius Curse in class.

During the weeks that followed Ron was equally famous to Harry, and Harry couldn't have been happier for his friend.

* *

One morning three weeks after the Imperius-incident, Ron and Harry were sitting in the Common room celebrating a very welcome free period (Hermione had Ancient Runes) by playing chess. Unsurprisingly Ron appeared to be winning, but not by the usual margin. Judging by the way he kept shifting uncomfortably in his seat, something was irking him. And Harry had a fair idea what it was. A group of third year girls were sitting whispering and giggling madly at the two boys on the opposite table.

In fact girls in all ages, houses and shapes had started to act flirty and giggly around them lately, and although it was rather flattering at first both boys now found the attention merely annoying. Wherever they turned flushed cheeks or girly laughter seem to follow them and Harry secretly hoped something would happen soon to take the attention away from them.

"You know what, Harry?" Ron said in a low voice with an icy glare at the flock of tittering girls. Harry reluctantly tore his eyes away from the chessboard. For once he actually thought he was in with a winning chance. "What?" he asked one eye still on the board contemplating his next move.

"Part of me has always been a bit jealous of you, I think," Ron said seriously. Harry gave him a look that plainly said "Oh really, no kidding" making Ron roll his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah I know you know. But seriously Harry, from now on I am going to leave all amazing curse-blocking, world-saving and other hero-stuff to you, my friend." Harry chuckled and Ron moved his knight.

"Checkmate."

Harry groaned disappointingly. He had yet to win a game of chess against Ron and he had long ago given up on the day ever coming. Ron was brilliant at chess! "The amazing chess-playing however is something I will continue with," Ron said smugly leaning back in the chair looking annoyingly content. Harry awarded him with a grimace that only seemed to add to Ron's self-satisfaction.

At lunch they met up with Hermione who'd spent every free moment between classes that day browsing through more library books in their search for information about the mysterious Strinx. Her gloomy face instantly told them that today's hunt hadn't been fruitful either and didn't even bother to ask about it. Neville joined them and soon a vividly discussing about the long anticipated Hogsmeade weekend had broken out. Neville was joyfully telling them in detail about the special fertilizer he was going to purchase for his private mini-greenhouse that he'd attached to the windowsill next to his bed, when a nervous-looking fourth year Ravenclaw tremblingly made her way over to the Gryffindor table and finally stopped next to Ron.

Looking thoroughly scared she cleared her throat and startled Ron looked up at her, traces of mayonnaise clearly visible at the corner of his mouth.

"What?" he asked thickly his mouth full to bursting of half-chewed food. The girl blushed madly casting worried looks over to the Ravenclaw table where her girlfriends could be seen laughing and gesturing her to get on with it.

Hermione watched the scene with racing heart. After Ron along with Harry had successfully resisted the Imperius Curse girls had flocked around the pair of them like moths to a flame. Personally she found it quite appalling that girls were willing to throw themselves at boys merely because of who they were or what they'd done rather than because they truly liked them as a person. This girl had to be the twentieth something to try and so far Ron had great turned them all down. The slight frown visible on his face indicated that this poor girl wouldn't walk away happy either. Never the less, Hermione couldn't help but glare at Ravenclaw. She was after all competition.

From across the table she saw Harry grinning knowingly at her. Though she hadn't exactly regretted telling Harry about her feelings towards Ron, it was still weird knowing that Harry, well knew. Hermione felt absolutely certain that he'd keep his promise not to tell Ron, but if Harry could tell how she felt, then perhaps other people could too and that was a very scary notion indeed. She blushed prettily and snapped her attention back to her food, chasing her salad aimlessly around the plate. From across the table she heard Ron gently turning the Ravenclaw down and instantly she felt like singing with joy.

When the blush had died down she dared look up at Ron and found him staring at her. He quickly shifted his eyes over to Harry and Hermione noticed that he still had some mayonnaise around his mouth. She smiled secretly reminiscing back to the first time she met Ron on the Hogwarts Express in their first year. Back then he'd some dirt on his nose and she recalled herself snootily pointing it out to him. She'd liked him from the moment she met him. He was so different from her, carefree, always with a joke, never thought things trough and always acting on impulse. She secretly admired these traits but wouldn't for the life of her admit to it openly. Oh no, that was her personal secret to hold.

* *

Afternoon classes that day meant an hour of Charms followed by double Care of Magical Creatures. Although Harry missed Hagrid awfully and wished for him to return soon he still had to confess that Charlie Weasley had proved a superb stand-in. Even the Slytherins were acting almost civilly in his class. Most of the girls (regardless of house) were obviously quite taken with the stout dragon trainer and therefore acted accordingly. Most of the boys (Malfoy and his cronies excepted) clearly wanted to become just like Charlie when they grew up and were literally drinking in every word he said and trying desperately to copy his moves.

The fact that Charlie had threatened to set a dragon on them if they didn't behave in his class had also had its effect on everyone's behaviour. Malfoy had at that point looked ready to shit his pants, an image Harry had mentally stored in his mind along with the ferret-episode as one of his more fond Malfoy-memories.

It was a rather cold and windy October afternoon and the class was gathered by the enclosure next to Hagrid's hut. Charlie was standing in front of them looking extremely excited.

"Today," Charlie said sounding thrilled, "we're going to study a very interesting creature rated as Dangerous by the Ministry. It's also rather rare, especially to these parts." He chuckled slightly. "Frodo Ruskin from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has sportingly allowed me to show you two specimens of this large African beast." Nervous and worried looks were exchanged and a low mumbling broke loose at Charlie's words. Previously the class had not exactly had the best of experiences with creatures labelled as "dangerous".

"Does anyone recognize what magical beast I'm about to show you based on the information I've given you so far?" To no one's surprise Hermione's hand immediately shot into the air. "Yes, Ms. Granger," Charlie said.

"I'm fairly certain you're talking about the Erumpent," Hermione answered promptly as though this was the most obvious thing in the whole world. Charlie beamed at her and instantly awarded her with five points. Harry and Ron however looked at her questionably. "What?" she asked them sounding annoyed. "Don't tell me you haven't read up on the creatures we'll be studying this year. Honestly you two, sometimes I think it's a wonder you pass any classes at all."

Ron snorted. "Really miss Know-it-all. You find it odd that we haven't learned our new care of magical creatures book by heart yet? For your information, it seems as though you were the only one to have done this. Didn't see a whole lot of arms in the air eager to answer that question just now. Just yours."

Hermione glared at him but didn't dare retort as Charlie was now giving them a rather stern look. Ron however mistook her unwillingness to answer as a sign of resign on her part, and looked gloatingly at her. "Who's the weird one, then?" he whispered in her ear and Hermione fought the urge to hex him on the spot. That boy was always getting on her nerves, one way or the other.

"Okay class, I'll just pop into the forest to get them. I'll only be a second so don't even think about getting into mischief while I'm away. Prefects are in charge." He quickly turned and trotted effortlessly towards the forest, eventually disappearing completely among the trees. Harry saw Malfoy whispering eagerly to Pansy Parkinson who instantly nodded her head enthusiastically. They were definitely plotting something or the other, but all thoughts of possible shrewd Slytherin gags were instantly forgotten as Charlie came galloping out of the forest, two enormous beasts sauntering behind him. The class let out a collective mixed gasp of horror and curiosity. Never had they seen anything like this in class!

" As you can all see," Charlie began breathlessly, "the Erumpent can easily be mistaken for a rhinoceros at a distance. Its hide is extremely thick and can repel most charms and curses, so don't even think about stunning them."

He patted the beast to his left affectionately making it let out a load grunting noise that Harry dearly hoped was out of pleasure and not agitation. "The main reason for why the Ministry has labelled the Erumpent dangerous, is that it under special circumstances might attack. Don't worry though (the entire class now looked like they wanted to flee back to the castle); this is only a danger if it's sorely provoked. Behave in this class and we'll have no problems whatsoever."

Parvati and Lavender still looked rather dubious about the whole thing but their deep crush on Charlie clearly refrained them from protesting loudly. Charlie hadn't noticed any of the doubtful looks the students cast each other, and continued to dish out facts about the beast with great enthusiasm. "If it's provoked," he continued happily, "catastrophe is usually the result. See their horns, they can pierce everything from skin to metal and contains a deadly fluid which will cause whatever is injected with it to explode."

Malfoy yawned openly and with a flourish turned away from Charlie and the Erumpents and continued whispering intently with Pansy and his two dimwits. "Well now, let's get down to business. The Erumpent's horn, tail and the Exploding Fluid are all used in potions, but we won't be collecting these today I'm afraid because the Ministry had classified this as Class B Tradable Materials; meaning they're dangerous and Subjected to strict control." Everyone looked immensely relieved to hear this.

"But what I want you to do is to gather round the Erumpents, make a drawing of it and label the different body parts. I'll also equip you with a metric measure so that you can measure the horn and the tail. Look to the textbook on the chapter about Erumpents and you'll find an equation to calculate the quantity of potion ingredients that each part can produce." A lot of shuffling followed as everyone tried to claim a spot by the smaller of the two beasts. With the aid of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins won and slightly rejected the Gryffindors settled around the enormous Erumpent. Charlie handed out a metric measure to each of the groups. Hermione gracefully accepted theirs while Malfoy made a mad grab for the other one.

For the next twenty minutes or so the class was strangely silent. The only sound that was heard was the scribbling of quills on parchment accompanied by the occasional grunt from the Erumpents. Soon however they'd all finished their drawings, some considerably better than others, and only the feared measuring remained.

Glancing quizzically around at her fellow Gryffindors Hermione picked up the metric measure. "So, who wants to do the honours?" she asked the sombre looking group. Unsurprisingly no one volunteered. Shrugging she gripped the measure tightly in her hand and made her way towards the beast. Honestly, they were so unwilling to try anything new it was tiresome. The Erumpent looked peaceful enough and she wasn't foolish enough to start provoking it anyway. She should be fine. And best of all, she'd get some hands on experience with the creature that could really come in handy in their practical OWL.

Tiptoeing towards the huge Erumpent, Hermione tried to look relaxed and calm. She caught its eye hoping to silently convey her good intensions. She held the metric measure out in front of her so that it wouldn't mistake it for a weapon of sorts. It eyed the stick with a disinterested look and continued to chew half-heartedly on the stack of hey Charlie had conjured just moments before. "Hello handsome," Hermione cooed soothingly. Somewhere behind her someone snorted, and without even looking she knew it was Ron. Git, she thought irritably.

"I'm just going to measure your horn and tail if that's alright," she continued silently, all the while wondering why she kept talking to it. Did Erumpents understand English? Charlie hadn't said anything about that, had he? But as if on cue the Erumpent swung its tail up to Hermione's face. She couldn't help but beam up at the creature and she could have sworn it was smiling back. "You're a clever boy, aren't you," she praised loudly and threw her spectators a haughty glare, lingering a little with Ron. He glared right back. Parvati and Lavender at least had the decency to look impressed, she noted contentedly, unlike certain other people she knew...

After measuring its tail, the Erumpent instantly bowed its head so that she could measure the length of the horn. A mere five minutes after she'd approached the animal her task was completed. She returned to the rest of the group with the recorded measurements and delegated the task of calculating the amount of potion ingredients this creature's horn and tail would yield to Dean and Seamus.

Harry was impressed. Hermione really knew her stuff that much was certain. The whole thing had taken less than ten minutes, and Charlie was now beside himself with joy, handing out points generously to all the Gryffindors whether they'd participated in solving the task or not.

Wonder how the Slytherins are doing, Harry thought curiously and glanced over towards the other Erumpent. Apparently they hadn't started the measuring yet, he concluded as he watched Malfoy circling the Erumpent, the metric measure raised high like a sword. Every now and then he'd lunge at it, pretending to stab it, egged on by a cheering crowd.

"That can't be a good idea," Harry whispered to himself but clearly Ron heard him. "What's up?" he asked squinting down where Harry was staring. "Ruddy idiots!" he instantly cried out. "Charlie specifically told us not to provoke them, and what does pale-face do? Run around poking it while throwing insults at it. He's going to end up maimed again. Not that I particularly care about that, mind," he added quickly.

"We've got to alert Charlie," Harry said determinedly and Ron nodded in agreement. But when they turned to call him they found he'd left the Gryffindor group. "Oi, Seamus," Ron called to the Irishman, "where did eh, professor Weasley disappear to?" Ron grimaced. Apparently he still had some difficulty addressing his brother in this manner. Seamus shrugged and shook his head. "Dunno where he went, said he'd be back in a tick though."

"Better hope it'll only be a tick," Harry said worriedly. "Leave it to tack to get back and Malfoy will have set that Erumpent charging all over this class..."

As if on cue they heard the unmistakable drawl of Draco Malfoy spitting out insults at both the rhino-like beast and the missing professor.

"Such a dreadfully boring creature this Weasley has brought us today. This sorry excuse of an Erumpent has about as much spunk as a house elf. On a trip to Africa a few years back my father took me to see some real Erumpents and I assure you all they were vastly more impressive and vicious than this one."

He kicked the Erumpents leg as he said this and Harry could have sworn he saw the creature give Malfoy a deadly glare. It let out a loud snarl and stomped its feet angrily but Malfoy just laughed. "Oh look at that! Was that supposed to be scary?" he asked in a mock trembling voice. Pansy Parkinson instantly resolved into giggles. "Honestly, that old goat Dumbledore seems totally incapable of hiring a professor with the adequate knowledge of magical creatures. This lesson for instant was entirely useless. My father will surely have something to say about this as soon as I let him know just how low the standard of these classes are."

Ron felt his anger building up. He wasn't the least bit surprised to find that Malfoy was dissatisfied with the class, quite the contrary actually. But to call his brother incompetent, that was simply stepping out of line. But before Ron had the chance to do or say anything to the pale twit, Malfoy went out and did something unbelievably stupid, even for him.

"Hi, you great lump of uselessness," he said to the Erumpent smirking broadly at his own daring. "Apparently I'm supposed to measure your tail and horn, but as they are so laughably small I don't think I'll bother. Your nose however is positively humungous, not to mention unbelievably ugly so why don't I measure how wide your nostrils are instead?" And before Ron had even registered what Malfoy was about to do, the Slytherin shoved the metric measure straight up the Erumpent's nose.

The growl that followed was deafening. The Erumpent's loud, angry roar also revealed a set of large and extremely sharp-looking teeth making the Slytherins burst out in manic shrieks of fright. Malfoy instantly turned alarmingly pale, a look of pure shock and terror on his face. The animal slowly gained on him and the sight of a tonne worth of livid Erumpent heading his way clearly had its effect because Malfoy did the only sensible thing when faced with a predicament of this size - he made a break for it!

Quickly he darted out of the group with the Erumpent following close by. The ground literally shook with each step it took. Loud shrieks of fear could be heard from all the students and Harry thought it safe to assume that pandemonium was imminent. And right he was. The next moment Malfoy proved to all of them that even during a flight of panic he was an evil prick. He was deliberately leading the Erumpent straight towards the Gryffindors.

"Blazing Kneazle, what's that idiot doing," Ron cried out as Malfoy bolted right at him. Expertly he dove out of the way, Harry following closely after. Luckily the rest of group had the wits to followed suit, each and everyone diving over the small fence around Hagrid's pumpkin patch. That is everyone expect for one. Hermione was standing frozen to the spot staring wide-eyed and terrified at the beast trampling towards her.

"Hermione move!" Ron yelled feeling a sense of panic spreading through him. "Oh god, she's not moving is she?"

Harry shook his head. "Clearly not. We've got to do something! Where the devil's Charlie!"

But Charlie was still nowhere to be seen and the Erumpent was showing no signs of slowing down. Malfoy had by now realized that Hermione was standing quite frozen right in the beast's way and had stopped a way back and was gleefully waving and taunting it to keep going. On instinct both Harry and Ron drew their wands, but none of them was thinking clearly enough to realize what spell they should cast. When the Erumpent was so close they could smell the stale whiff of dried dung hanging from its hide, and this finally snapped them into action.

Remembering that Charlie had said it was pointless to try and stun it, that notion was quickly rejected. "We've got to get Hermione out of the way," Ron screamed frantically having come to the same conclusion regardless stunning. "Do the Levitation Charm," Harry suggested feeling panic starting to overtake his thinking. "You're good at that one, remember?" Ron nodded determinedly and instantly did a practice wave, muttering "swish and flick" to himself. He closed his eyes presumably in concentration and began the incantation.

"Wingardium Le...!"

But Ron never finished the incantation. Suddenly the Erumpent was lifted of the ground and flung backwards with great power. The words died on his lips and the charm lingered incomplete in the air. The beast soared through the air and with a thundering bang hit the wall of Hagrid's hut causing several roofing tiles to undo and hit it on the head for good measure.

Everybody stared wide-eyed from the rhino-beast lying in heaps by the wall clearly unconscious and then to Charlie who'd just reappeared among them, his wand out and ready. Whoa, Harry though amazed. He'd never seen anyone perform a spell like this before, and the funny part was that he hadn't even heard Charlie call out any incantation at all. Harry didn't know that was even possible. Probably something you learn while working with dragons, he reasoned and turned to look at Ron. He was standing with his mouth wide open (a fly was zooming happily straight for the opening) and looking thoroughly flabbergasted.

"Ron," Harry said intently elbowing the redhead to break his stare. "I never knew Charlie could do something like that, did you? That was bloody brilliant!" Ron however didn't respond. "Ron? Hello, earth to Ronald." Harry waved his hand in front of Ron's eyes in hope of breaking his daze but nothing happened.

"RON!!" Harry finally screamed into his ear and with a jerk Ron came to and perplexedly turned his head towards Harry. "Did you say something?"

Harry just rolled his eyes. "No I didn't say anything, I screamed," Harry said smirking. "But never mind that, Charlie's spell was amazing don't you think?"

"Oh yeah," Ron muttered absentmindedly and followed his friends over to see make sure that Hermione was all right and then whip Malfoy's pointy little ass...

Later that evening Ron was sitting in the Common room watching Ginny flatten Harry in a game of chess while Hermione was pouring over her beloved Arithmancy book "to calm her nerves" as she put it. His mind however was not on his friend's activities. He was still busy mulling over the he events in the Care of Magical Creatures class earlier that day.

He hadn't said anything to anyone, but Ron knew perfectly well that it hadn't been Charlie who'd made that poor provoked Erumpent fly through the air like that. For one thing the look of total bewilderment and confusion on his brother's face as he'd stood staring disbelievingly at the unconscious beast was a dead giveaway. Ron could read Charlie like an open book by now and was one hundred percent certain that Charlie hadn't the faintest idea what'd made it fly like a bird.

Ron however did.

It had been the strangest thing. Never had he experienced anything like it. When he saw Malfoy leading the Erumpent straight for them and heard Hermione scream in fear and freeze like a statue unable to move out of it's path, he'd suddenly felt a huge and overpowering urge to protect her from the clearly malevolent creature. He knew that stunning it would be pointless (he'd actually paid attention in class for once) and that they somehow had to get Hermione out of its path. Harry had panicked suggested the Levitation Charm and Ron had agreed to do it although he secretly doubted he'd be able to pull it off. He'd never levitated anything the size and weight of Hermione, and as he did a quick practise wave of the wand movement, he'd silently hoped that this simple wave of the hand could send it flying through the air so fast it'd hit the wall of Hagrid's hut.

And though Ron knew perfectly well that this was nothing but wishful thinking on his part, he'd still conjured up a most vivid image of the flying Erumpent in his mind. And before he knew it he felt a wave, almost like electricity (not that he knew how that felt like, but still) was shooting through his body and seconds later the image was reality.

He'd somehow made the Erumpent dart through the air. But he didn't know how and to be honest he didn't think anyone would be inclined to believe him either if he said anything. Why should they? He wasn't Harry Potter, master wizard and hero. He was just Ron, a simple Weasley. There was no way anyone would believe he'd done something like this.

So he decided to keep it a secret.

* *

Unsurprisingly the flying Erumpent was the talk of the school for the next couple of days. Since everyone automatically had assumed Charlie to be the genius behind said episode, he soon became the most talked about and popular professor in school. Suddenly everyone wanted to take up Care of Magical Creatures, and rumours had it that both professor Vector and professor Trelawney were in a right huff with the second eldest Weasley because of the vast number of students that had dropped their subjects in favour of his.

Charlie, secretly pleased that his class had grown in popularity, was still quite nonplussed about the strange event that had caused his sudden celebrity status. Unable to put it out of his mind, he decided to pay Dumbledore a few days later. Clearly someone within his fifth year class had some sort of hidden powers that he wasn't aware off that much was certain. Erumpents simply didn't soar through the air like that on their own accord, and did not have a tendency for throwing themselves against stonewalls voluntarily either.

And if someone were hiding powers that didn't require incantations or wand work, he sure as hell would like to know about it before class began. He did have the safety of all the students to worry about; an unstable fifth year old with a new gift was not something he liked to have sprung on him like this.

Personally Charlie couldn't help but suspect Harry to be the source behind it. He had after all survived the Killing Curse already, and been engaged in numerous other "incidents" if he'd understood his mother correctly. A power such as this would be right up his alley, Charlie reasoned. He was therefore most surprised when Dumbledore assured him that this was not the case. But even though Charlie practically begged on his knees to learn who'd done it Dumbledore remained silent, adamantly refusing to tell him.

"All will be revealed in due time," was all Charlie managed to squeeze out of the old man and quite frankly he found this answer rather irritating. But realizing that there was nothing he could do to persuade the headmaster to change his mind, he left his office and swore to try and forget about the whole thing. It probably was a one-time occurrence anyway, he reasoned. Whoever had done it would be plain stupid to continue flaunting his or her ability if the concerned wanted to keep out of the spotlight. But just as a precaution, Charlie decided to stick with small, relatively harmless animals the following lessons, just to be on the safe side...

* *

The weekend following the much-debated incident with the flying Erumpent, the boys in the fifth year dormitory had decided upon a game of midnight Exploding Snap to kill some time. To make the game more interesting they played for Chocolate Frogs and currently Neville of all people seemed to be the one with winners luck that night. He had just won another pot of frogs adding to his all ready large pile when they heard the portrait hole open. Someone clearly shuffled through it whereupon it was slammed shut with a thundering bang. The five boys exchanged curious looks. It was almost midnight and therefore well past curfew. Who could possibly be out wandering at this hour?

None of them had to wonder long however as two voices suddenly echoed up the stairs, and for a fleeting moment Harry wondered if they'd perhaps put the Sonorus Spell on themselves. There was little doubt to the fact that the nighttime wanderers were girls, and as the loud argument grew steadily more heated it became clear to him who the voices belonged to.

Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled looks and quickly jumped to their feet. Quietly they headed out of the dormitory, crouched low behind the banister and peeked over the railing down onto the common room. There Hermione and Ginny were standing only inches apart screaming at each other.

"Honesty, Ginny," Hermione was saying in her most condescending tone of voice. "I expected much more from you. Sneaking around after curfew, what were you thinking off? You know perfectly well that this is against school regulations."

Ginny snorted, her face crimson with anger. "Oh and you're really one to give me lectures on late night wanderings. I believe you, along with Harry and that good for nothing brother of mine have roamed the halls of this school on more occasions than the entire Gryffindor tower combined. How in the name of Godric can you come down on me like this? None of the teachers even noticed."

Hermione was shaking her head disbelievingly. She knew perfectly well that Ginny was right. She had more than once broken the rules that she now was forced to abide by as a Prefect. But at least she'd had some pretty good reasons for doing so, opposed to Ginny.

"Okay," she said looking at Ginny who was now busy gathering her hair in into a messy ponytail. "If you tell me what you were doing or trying to do, I'll consider not taking any points from you."

Ginny seemed to be thinking hard for a minute. Harry along with Ron (who looked like he wanted to sprint down the stairs and shake the information out of her, only held back by Harry's tight grip on his pyjamas) watched the scene from the top of the staircase. Harry was extremely curious to what Ginny was doing out in the halls at this time of night. He had a sneaking suspicion this had something to do with Max and wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.

Ginny's eyes finally met Hermione's; her chin held high and a determined look on her face. "I'm sorry, Hermione but I really can't tell you what I was doing." Hermione sighed disappointedly. "I suppose you realize what this means?" she asked dejectedly and Ginny nodded in response.

"You do whatever you have to," she answered coolly. "I'm not saying anything and that's final!"

"Right," Hermione said tiredly, "twenty points from Gryffindor and I have to report you to Professor McGonagall."

Ginny looked slightly upset but shrugged in what obviously was meant to be an offhand manner. With a final glare in Hermione's direction she gathered her books and stomped up the staircase to her dormitory. Hermione soon followed.

Perplexed Harry and Ron stood gawking at the scene that played out below them. When both girls had disappeared into their respective dormitories, they reluctantly turned and trudged back to their own dormitory. Once inside they discovered that the others had gone to bed. Ron had a deep furrow on his forehead and looked to be battling between anger and curiosity. Not particularly eager to set Ron off on a long rant at this time of the night, Harry quickly said good night and climbed into his bed.

As Harry slid under the cover, he felt a strange hurting feeling in his chest. He was fairly certain he knew what Ginny had been doing tonight and just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach. Why did students (other than Ron, Hermione and himself that is) sneak off into the night and later refuse to tell where they'd been? Only one answer came to his mind. Snogging. And Harry was fairly certain that Ginny had been out snogging Max. His already towering dislike for the German guy was now rapidly approaching Malfoy-standards. What ever did she see in him, he thought miserably. After much twisting and turning he finally fell asleep.

At the same time in the fourth year dormitory Ginny was laying wide-awake staring up at her canopy. She was feeling too frustrated to sleep; yet too tired not to. It really was a hopeless state to be in and it was all Hermione's fault really. It had been most unfortunate that she'd discovered her bed empty and taken it upon herself to go looking for her.

She'd found her in the library and with some difficulty managed to drag her back to the common room. Ginny honestly hated being told what to do, especially by people barely older than her. Prefect or not, Hermione was supposedly her friend and shouldn't have to take points from her like this. She hit her hands furiously into her pillow to let of some steam, and ended up almost knocking a glass of water to the floor.

"What is happening to me?" she asked herself in despair squirming and thrashing in her bed. "Why has this started now and more importantly, what does it mean?" Unsurprisingly there was no one there to give her the answers she so sorely sought. It wasn't until hours later that she finally fell asleep exhausted.

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