Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Thirteen:

Warnings

Ron didn't utter a word to Hermione for more than an entire week and for once Harry felt he had a somewhat reasonable excuse for the excessive silent treatment. Hermione's words, although clearly spoken in pure rage after being thoroughly provoked by Ron, had been unnecessarily harsh and scornful. Even though his friends were prone to bicker more or less continuously none of them had ever gone this far in their insults.

Ginny confessed to Harry that Hermione had spent most of that evening and night in tears, regretting her outburst profusely. She wanted nothing more than to apologize to Ron, but he'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing whatsoever to do with her. Ginny had tried to both plea and blackmail her brother into talking to Hermione, but so far to no avail.

This total silence between his friends made meals, classes and studies a living, breathing nightmare for Harry. For the umpteenth time he had to act as an intermediate and it was growing frightfully tiresome. By the end of the week Hermione was looking pale and drained, huge black circles clearly visible under her eyes from lack of sleep. Ron on the other hand spent all his spare time lying on his bed looking gloomy and depressed, but when confronted with the suggestion that perhaps he should go talk to Hermione seeing as it made him so miserable, he would bawl at Harry to mind his own business, close the hangings shut and sulk for the remainder of the evening.

Eight days later the situation was more or less unchanged. After yet another dismal and depressing school day where Harry had more or less carried all conversations single-handedly, the two quarrellers had as usual gone their separate ways as soon as they'd entered the common room after dinner. Hermione had hurried off, presumably to the library while Ron had stomped grumpily up the stairs to the dormitory; his body language clearly telling everyone to keep the hell away from him if the knew what was good for them.

A short hour later he was still lying sprawled on his bed, moping and groaning huffily to himself while replaying in his head the scene that was the source of his murkiness. He knew perfectly well why the sight of Krum's ruddy owl had made him say the things he'd said that night over a week ago, but that didn't really excuse it, now did it? Ron knew better than anyone that any comments made in Hermione's presence regarding that duck-footed Bulgarian tosser would lead to a new fight. So in a freaky indirect kind of way he was as much to blame for the whole wretched mess as Hermione was. Not that meant he was willing to traipse up to that bushy haired monster and apologise - not a fat bloody chance in hell!!

Ron sighed heavily. Pride and stubbornness aside, he knew now that all his nasty comments on the issue of Krum had been made out of jealousy. It had taken him a bit of time to realize this off course (he'd been totally oblivious at the Yule ball, there was no denying that), and in retrospect Ron had to admit that he'd been nothing short of appallingly jealous and thereby shown Hermione his least preferable trait, namely his terrible Weasley-anger. Nothing charming about that, he thought darkly while kicking his cover into a crumple in frustration.

But even though he'd realized that yes he was jealous and yes he knew the reason for this jealousy, there was no way he was going to admit to this, least of all to Hermione. But if he wasn't much mistaken, he didn't have any reason to be jealous of Krum anymore anyway. Harry had seen to that.

Ron cursed loudly. However much he wanted to hate Harry for stealing Hermione's heart, he couldn't do it. He was his best friend after all and they'd gone through too much together to let a girl destroy their friendship. No, he could never hate Harry. He could be envious of him, sure. But hate him? Never.

But even if he didn't hate Harry for liking Hermione, Ron still hated the fact that his friend hadn't told him anything about this, especially seeing as the New Years Ball was coming up soon. Just the other day Ron had casually asked him whether he'd decided which girl he wanted to ask as a date and Harry had blushed so deeply that Ron had briefly wondered if perhaps some unfortunate Weasley-genes had accidentally rubbed off on him or something. He'd then begun stuttering more incoherently than Neville in Potions, before he'd conveniently dashed off to Quidditch practice without really answering the question. Ron snorted. Honestly, it wasn't as if he couldn't take hearing the truth. It would hurt like hell, yes, but he'd rather know straight up than all this secrecy.

Feeling thoroughly sorry for himself Ron rolled heavily over on his stomach and pulled the pillow over his head. Life was not exactly harmonious and joyous at the moment. Not only did he have a none-existing love life but his friendships were also slowly going down the drain. He could sense Harry's growing annoyance with the situation and a grumpy Harry was never fun to be around. But that was nothing compared to this stupid fight he had going with Hermione.

Yeah, yeah, Ron knew he was being extremely pigheaded and quite insufferable by refusing to talk to her; there was no denying that. But she had seriously hurt his feelings this time. Most times when they fought or bickered Ron just pretended to be insulted or peeved simply to get a rise out of her, but this time it had been different.

But unlike what everybody (Harry included) seemed to believe it wasn't really the things Hermione accused him off that had hurt him. It was rather the fact that she could say something that cruel and malicious to one of her friends. If it had been directed at say Malfoy Ron would've been the first one to applaud her effort, no doubt about it. But the truth of the matter was that it wasn't in Hermione's nature to be so spiteful even towards her enemies. She had manners and morals that she stuck to and Ron privately admired her for it. Knowing that it was him and not some snot-faced Slytherin idiot that managed to bring out the very worst in Hermione was hard to swallow.

Lately he'd been clinging on to a small straw, hoping against all odds that maybe, just maybe Hermione liked him the way he liked her. Now that straw was violently snapped in two, stepped on and tossed away and most likely far beyond repair. She obviously didn't care like he did and probably never would, or else she wouldn't have said those nasty things about him. And a broken heart hurt ten times more than any words said in anger...

As he lay there wallowing in self-pity, the door to the dormitory creaked familiarly announcing someone's arrival. Ron was not at all surprised when Harry's black mop of hair peered through the hangings seconds later.

"You awake?"

"Hmpfh," was Ron's charming way of greeting his friend before he rolled over to face the wall leaving Harry free to speak to the back of his head if he so desired.

"Stop being a git, Ron I know that you are. Stop being so childish and turn around you tosser."

He sounded awfully despairing Ron noticed and his voice was strangely hollow. Even so he stubbornly kept glaring at the wall trying to fake a newfound interested in the patterns of the stones.

"I'm not being a git nor am I a tosser," he said grumpily and now it was Harry's turn to snort.

"Yes you are and you bloody know it. This has gone far enough. Please get out of bed and down to the common room."

"Why? So that she can verbally abused me again? No thanks, I have my pride." As to emphasize his point Ron grabbed hold of the blanket and tried to pull it over his head. It didn't work.

Harry had taken hold of it and tossed it impatiently to the floor. Ron more or less jumped ungracefully into a sitting position ready to give Harry a piece of his mind. Harry however continued to sabotage Ron's sulking by tearing the hangings apart whereupon he grabbed Ron forcefully by the shoulders and yanked him painfully around so that he was facing him. Ron was not exactly comforted by the sight that greeted him: Harry looked just as despondent as he sounded.

"I think it's about time you swallowed that pride of yours and came down to the common room with me," Harry said intently a pleading look in his eyes. "I've tried everything I can think off but it's not working. I honestly don't know what to say to make her snap out of it. She just came running into the common room all panicky and frantic, crying her eyes out. Nobody's managed to get any sense out of her and now, now she's just sitting there like a bleeding statue not responding to anything we say. It's quite scary, actually."

Harry now had Ron's undivided attention. What the devil was he raving about? Who was being panicky and why?

"Who're you talking about?" Ron asked snappishly. He already knew the answer but needed a confirmation none the less.

"Hermione of course, you dolt!" Harry cried in evident frustration. "I haven't seen her in such a state since..."

Harry suddenly trailed off and the way he was nervously trying to avoid looking at him, gave Ron the distinct feeling he wasn't too keen on finishing that sentence. Ron was almost willing to let it go in order to get down to Hermione more quickly but once again curiosity won. "Since what?" he prompted giving Harry his most intense stare.

Harry mentally cursed his slippery tongue. He'd never mentioned anything to Ron about Hermione's rather strong reaction to his sudden disappearance this summer and wasn't entirely sure it was wise to dip into such an old issue at this point. But the cat's out of the bag now, you dimwit he silently admonished himself, feeling a strange and disturbing urge to bang his head against Ron's dresser in a Dobby-like fashion. Better just tell him and be over with it. Dragging it out would not exactly benefit Hermione's situation.

"Since you got kidnapped this summer," Harry answered in a low voice. Ron looked flabbergasted by this statement and there was a slight pause before he spoke.

"Okay, so she's quite upset. Why? What happened to make her this upset, then? Malfoy?"

Harry sighed. "That's just it, no one knows. If we only knew then it would be easier to help her, wouldn't it?"

By the time Harry had finished the sentence Ron was already more than half way down to the common room.

*

What Ron immediately noticed upon (rather ungracefully) skidding to a halt in the middle of the common room after a neck breaking run down the stairs, was the silence. At this time of day the Gryffindor common room was usually booming with sound and movement. Now however only a few of the older students were conversing in hushed voices but the majority of the students were standing passively around looking worriedly at the lone figure sitting still as a statue (Harry hadn't been exaggerating there) staring blankly into the air.

Hermione's face was pale and tear-stained, her hair a wild disarray of bushiness that would make even the bravest hairbrush tremble with fear. Yet it wasn't the physical appearance that made Ron shake with anxiety. It was rather the blank and expressionless look on her face that made the biggest impression on him. The mischievous and intelligent gleam in her eyes was gone, the same with her radiant smile and the adorable dimples. It was as if something had taken away the very essence of what made Hermione, well Hermione and left them with a zombie-like shell.

Ron couldn't help the shivers that ran down his back. Something terrible had happened.

Gone were all thoughts about their stupid row. In fact Ron couldn't even phantom that just seconds earlier he'd been lying in his bed sulking over a stupid comment said in anger, while poor Hermione had been suffering through some sort of hell all on her own. He was a selfish git and as soon as he'd seen to it that Hermione was okay, he was going to take a stroll into the Forbidden Forest and see if old Aragog still fancied a red-haired snack.

Tentatively Ron began walking up to her all the while contemplating what to say and how to approach her. But as he drew nearer all thoughts about how his actions might be perceived by her and their bystanders completely left him. It was as if she'd been petrified again; the same emptiness in her eyes. Something dreadful must have happened to take away their energetic, lively and beautiful Hermione leaving them with only this forlorn shadow of her former self.

Ron wanted her back.

And so to everyone's amazement Ron went straight over to her, lifted her off the chair she was sitting on and effortlessly carried her over to the couch by the fire. With a seldom case of confidence and determination he wrapped his arms around her embracing her in a tight hug. Hermione looked like a little doll, almost disappearing in his long arms. Despite the severity of the situation Ron couldn't help but notice how perfectly she seemed to fit against his body. Not that it mattered anyway, but it felt nice.

Normally such a blatant show of affection would have left the twins in a complete state of rapture, with insane amounts of teasing sure to follow. But astonishingly even Fred and George had the good sense to stay silent. That was how concerned everyone was for Hermione.

Harry watched in awe as Ron started to talk to Hermione in a calm and soothing voice. He was whispering calmly in her ear but Harry couldn't make out the words. The effect however was overwhelming. Within a minute Hermione's statuesque stance began to break and soon she was weeping silently into his chest. A few moments later she even flung her arms around his neck holding on for dear life. Ron just kept on rocking her back and forth and patiently waiting for her to calm down.

Eventually the sobs lessened somewhat and Hermione pulled back enough to tilt her head up looking him straight in the eye. She was lost for words and tears were still streaming down her cheeks. Ron simply dried them off with his thumb and Hermione shivered.

Ginny and Harry finally found the nerve to approach them and seated themselves on either side of the couple.

"What's wrong, Mione?" Ron asked softly, still holding a shivering Hermione close to his chest. "You're scaring me you know. It's not everyday the most brilliant witch of her age breaks down in tears, so I'm thinking something awful must have happened."

A choked snort escaped Hermione throat and Ron grinned despite the grimness of the situation. He glanced down at the very bushy mane of hair and noticed with a flip of the heart that she was smiling weakly at him. Tearstained or not, she was the most gorgeous sight imaginable. Had he ever thought Fleur Delacour was god's gift to adolescent boys? Mental!

Slowly and a bit hesitantly Hermione handed Ron a piece of parchment that had been crumpled up in her hand. Curiously he accepted it, and smoothing it out against his thigh Ron realized it was the front page of the Daily Prophet.

The headline read Mysterious Muggle Murders Mystifies the Ministry and immediately he felt all the blood drain from his face. It couldn't be. Certainly not... But they were Muggles... Gathering his wits Ron forced his attention to the article beneath the headline. If it really were...but of course it wasn't...but if, then he had to know so that he could be there for her.

As he read on an involuntary sigh of relief escaped him. Ron was sure Hermione had heard it, but he didn't care. Right now it was perfectly alright for him to show that he cared about her. Because he truly did. And not just in the platonic sort of way, he sheepishly had to admit, but that was a whole other matter that really didn't have anything to do with the present situation. Thank goodness...

Having noticed that both Harry and Ginny was more than a little curious to what was going on Ron cleared his throat and began reading the article out loud. Beside him Hermione began to tremble as if hearing the words from the paper spoken out loud was upsetting her again. Without a second thought Ron grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. After a few seconds he felt Hermione's grip on his hand loosen somewhat and she leaned heavily back in her seat. Ron resumed reading.

"The headline reads Mysterious Muggle Murders Mystifies the Ministry," Ron informed the two question marks seated next to Hermione and him. Ginny gasped and instantly grabbed Hermione free hand.

"It's not...is it?" Ginny whispered looking horrified. Weakly Hermione shook her head.

"Thank god!" a very pale Harry exclaimed with evident relief. Having cleared that up Ron continued with the article.

"Yesterday evening at twenty-three minutes passed eight the Department for Supervision and Control of Magic in Muggle Inhabited Areas received intelligence that dark magic had been performed in a heavily populated Muggle settlement just outside London. Two Auror squads were sent to investigate and two Muggles were found dead at the premises. Preliminary reports suggest the use of the Killing Curse although nothing conclusive has been released from the Ministry as of yet. This again has led to a stream of rumours about Death Eater activities and the return of You Know Who. There hasn't been a single report of the Avada Kedavra curse being performed since The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, brought the feared Dark Lord to his fall more fourteen years ago.

Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, released a statement this morning claiming that rumours about the return of the Dark Lord and Death Eater activity are ludicrous and pure codswallop. Fudge says further that these Muggle murders are nothing but a cowardice attempt to provoke chaos and mayhem in the wizarding world started by warmongers and troublesome busybodies. This reporter will however await the final report from the Aurors before he's one hundred percent assured. Because let's face it; there has been a lot of strange going-ons lately."

"Ain't that the truth," Harry mumbled glumly as Ron folded up the article. Hermione raised a weak eyebrow in silent agreement. Ginny however didn't appear to take any notice of Harry's comment.

"But Hermione," she began uncertainly, "if it's not your parents or family then why are you so upset? Is it because they've started killing off random Muggles and you're scared your parents might be next? Because if that's the case I'm sure Dumbledore will be more than happy to arrange for some wards to be put up around your house or something..."

Ginny was interrupted as Hermione suddenly broke into a fresh wave of tears. Feeling stupid for ranting on like that without any consideration for Hermione's feelings, she quickly apologised and leaned back into the pillows while cowering under Ron's accusing glare. He looked fit to kill. Ginny was positive a long tirade of Ron's favourite profanities would have washed over her if Hermione hadn't begun sobbingly explaining her reaction at that precise moment.

"T-t-those Muggles in the paper," she began thickly (they all had to strain their ears to understand what she was saying). "T-t-They were my p-parents' n-neighbours."

It took Harry, Ron and Ginny a few seconds to fully comprehend what she'd just said. "Oh dear," Ginny finally managed to choke out. Harry and Ron were beyond speech.

"I've known them since I was two," Hermione managed in between tears and sobs. "Emma and Herman always came over on New Years Eve, you know. I-I recon they're the are...were the closest friends my p-parents had..."

They all stared dumbfound at her. This was just too much. It was unbelievable. True, it wasn't Hermione's parents, but still Voldemort had hit a little too close to home for Harry's liking. One thing was certain though - this was not a coincident. Harry had long ago stopped believing in them, and knowing Voldemort, he was pretty certain that creature never did anything without there being a meaning behind it.

Suddenly the war the Ministry so adamantly claimed didn't exist had affected one of them directly. Ginny flung her arms around Hermione hugging her dearly. Ron reluctantly let go of her hand. He reached for the torn out front page of the Daily Prophet and reread the article all the while shaking his head in disbelief.

"I've got to owl my parents," Hermione suddenly declared. She gratefully accepted the handkerchief Ginny offered her and wiped away the tears that were still falling freely down her cheeks.

"They have a right to know the truth. They won't like it, but there is no way I can let them go on believing whatever cover story the Ministry have cooked up to hide the fact that You Know Who has returned. Those Aurors are probably feeding them some sham about a burglary gone haywire, or something."

She cleared her throat and pushed the hair out of her face. "Can I borrow Pig?" she asked Ron pleadingly and he nodded affirmatively. "I'll go with you to the Owlery, if you want," he offered tentatively not entirely sure that she'd want his company. Hermione however smiled weakly. "I'd appreciate that."

Harry had by now regained his voice and abruptly rose from the couch startling Ginny into a nervous jump. "This is a warning," he said hoarsely. "He wants us to know that he can and will go to drastic measures to win. He's showing us his strength and he's starting with the one's we care about."

"I know," said Hermione croakily.

For a while they didn't say a word. The rest of the students in the common room looked pale and worried, and there was a new tension filling the room.

Fear.

"I'm scared," Ginny whispered as she watched Hermione and Ron disappear through the portrait hole a few minutes later.

"We all are," Harry replied dismally. "And with good reason."

It took a while before Hermione returned to her normal bossy self again. The death of her parents' neighbours had been a severe shock to her, but a week later she seemed to be getting back to her usual routine.

Ron had never been so happy to have Hermione yell at him again and was unable to stop grinning as he received a very heartfelt reprimand for not having started revising for his OWLs yet. He was tempted to challenge Hermione to find a single fifth year aside from her who'd as much as looked at a practice paper at this point, but kept his tongue in check for once. There would be plenty of opportunities to annoy and tease her in the future, for now he'd let her rant and rave uninterrupted.

Harry had been to see Dumbledore and the headmaster had graciously agreed to put up a string of protective wards around the Granger-house. Wards had already been put up around the Burrow following Ron's attempted kidnapping the previous summer, but just to be certain Lupin was sent to double-check the quality.

Knowing that her parents were now thoroughly protected (in addition members of the Order would be doing regular patrols in the area checking for traces of dark magic) comforted Hermione to a certain extent, but it came at a price.

Her parents had been so shocked to learn that wizards were behind the killings and had immediately demanded that Hermione were to leave Hogwarts and the wizarding world for good. Hermione admitted to Harry and Ron that she'd suspected they might react like this, and that was why she'd never really told them much about Voldemort and the danger she was in as one of Harry's best friends. Harry couldn't help but feel partially responsible for Hermione's falling out with her parents, but she just scoffed at him for even thinking along those lines.

Naturally she'd blankly refused her parents demand and so their relationship was rather strained at the moment.

Harry couldn't help but be impressed with her. Hermione truly was a strong witch he reflected one evening he was sitting in the common room, trying and failing to complete a stupid star chart for Divination. Ron was sitting next to him but appeared too engrossed in a parchment with new Quidditch strategies to be of any help with his tedious assignment. The game against Hufflepuff was drawing closer and practices had increased in intensity. Thankfully Ron's training methods were a whole lot more constructive and less nightmarish than the ones under George's terror rule, but it still took a lot out of him. Needless to say Harry was feeling a little overworked at the moment with both the Order and practices to think about in addition to the heaps of homework the teachers were giving them.

But if Harry felt tired, his fatigue was still nothing compared to the state Ginny seemed to be in these days. Never had he seen bags this size under any eyes; not even after Hermione had pulled one of her legendary study sessions that involved no sleep for three consecutive nights and that, Harry thought with heavy heart, was really saying a lot!

Right now Ginny was curled up in a chair sound asleep with her Charms book in her lap. She was paler than usual and it looked as if she'd lost some weight too. Harry was worried about her. She'd also seemed more distant and preoccupied lately, not at all her normal cheerful self. The twins had played a rather nasty trick on her the other day (involving a toad toffee and a shameless reference to her first year valentine "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad"), but surprisingly Ginny hadn't laughed nor thrown a tantrum. Fred and George had been tiptoeing around her ever since, clearly expecting a retaliation of some sort but so far nothing had happened.

But to Harry the most noticeable difference was the way she'd been acting around him. Their friendship had grown stronger and stronger since this summer, and any awkwardness that had previously stamped their relationship was long forgotten (with the exception of the odd blush of course).

But lately Ginny had been acting nervous and jumpy around him again. She kept giving him some odd glances now and then, and she wasn't hanging around them as much as before. He wondered if perhaps he'd unintentionally said or done something to upset her, but Ginny had assured him that was not the case when he'd asked her about it.

However little he liked to admit it Harry found himself growing more and more intrigued by her for each passing day. In many ways she was still a mystery to him. Some days she was daring and almost flirtatious around him, other days shy and withdrawn. She was a walking talking enigma and to his great surprise Harry liked that. Over the last couple of years he'd developed a sort of loathing for riddles and half-truths, but in Ginny's case he found he didn't mind the mystery much. In fact it was downright thrilling...

She looked beautiful when she was sleeping. Harry blushed deeply. He still found it almost embarrassing having thoughts like this about a girl. Sure he'd fantasised a bit about Cho last year, but that was nothing compared to the array of feelings and emotions Ginny could bring out in him. It was a bit scary actually Harry decided as he futilely tried to shield the rest of the common room from his flushed cheeks. It would be particularly unfortunate if Ron was to piece together what was going on inside his head. Harry stole a nervous glance in Ron's direction, but he appeared too engrossed in his tactics to notice even the spider that was looming near his left knee.

After having given his blazing cheeks adequate time to return to their usual pale state, Harry decided to bring the topic of Ginny's health status up for discussion. If there was something seriously wrong with her Ron might know about or if not he could always make some inquires as the concerned brother he (sometimes) was. It would only look suspicious if Harry started poking his nose into it, he decided. After all he didn't want people getting ideas about, well anything...

"Ron?" Harry began giving the absorbed redhead a light poke in the arm. He was answered by a low mumble that sounded like "of course", closely followed by the sound of quill scratching furiously over parchment. Ron looked like he'd just discovered a cauldron full of Galleons behind a one of the cushions, so wide was his grin.

Harry however was not about to give up that easily. "Ginny's been acting kind of peculiar lately don't you think?" he ventured imploringly. This time at Ron at least answered him even if his reply left much to be desired. "Huh?" The unofficial Gryffindor captain was still transfixed by the scribbling on his parchment. Harry sighed heavily and quickly snatched the parchment out of Ron's manic grip. Suddenly Ron was all ears.

"What did you do that for moron? For your information Seeker Star I've just had a Quidditch epiphany worthy of headlines! Mucking about with my precious notes might make me lose my train of thought completely. Now hand me back my parchment before I exclude you from the team!"

Swallowing hard Harry hurriedly handed Ron the parchment back with a sheepish shrug. Ron hastily tucked it into his robes, giving Harry a funny look.

"This better be good," he hissed sulkily crossing his arms in front of him like a very immature child (which Harry reminded himself he in many ways was). Trying to ignore his friend's blatant show of disinterest Harry repeated his question.

"Have you noticed anything funny about Ginny lately?"

"With funny what exactly do you mean? She's Ginny - she's always been sort of funny if you ask me."

"Ha bloody ha," Harry said sarcastically. "I actually meant more like acting out of character even for your normally very funny sister. She's not looking all that well these days, you know. Pale as hell and bags the size of gallons under her eyes, and she's always looking dead tired if you ask me. And I've also noticed that she hasn't been eating much either."

Ron turned in his chair and gazed concernedly at his sister who were still sound asleep by the fire. When he turned back he was frowning.

"Well, come to think of it she has been kind of quiet lately. You now for Ginny," he added as an afterthought. Harry nodded in agreement.

"And you're right, she really doesn't look too good," Ron continued chewing his lip. "Maybe she's ill or something? Some Pepper-Up should probably do the trick though."

"Yeah maybe," Harry replied pensively though he had a sneaking suspicion something else completely was the root to Ginny's strange behaviour - something that Pepper-Up wouldn't cure anyway. Ron however seemed perfectly content with his own diagnosis.

"I'll owl mum later," he mumbled half to himself as he pulled out the infamous tactics parchment once again. "She'll put Charlie on the case ASAP and before we know it Ginny's ears will be steaming, you mark my words..."

Knowing the fussing of Mrs. Weasley first hand Harry suspected Ron was right about that.

The conversation was brought to an abrupt end when someone behind them suddenly gasped loudly followed by the unmistakable sound of a book hitting the floor. Glancing over his shoulder Harry saw that Ginny had now woken up. She looked oddly disoriented as she scrambled to pick up her book and when she straightened up again her eyes met his. Harry fought hard not to blush and would have broken their gaze the next moment if it weren't for the very strange look Ginny was giving him. He didn't quite know what to make of it; it was hard to tell whether she was curious, apprehensive or...scared?

Finding her intense stare rather uncomfortable Harry leaned over and placed his mug of hot chocolate on the table as a distraction. He'd just taken a sip right before Ginny's book crash and decided it was getting a bit too cold for his taste. He did a quick heating spell on it before he returned his attention to Ron.

"Harry?"

Ginny's voice was a mere whisper and hardly audible but still he had no trouble making it out over the persistent hubbub in the common room.

"I would move that mug if I were you," she said shakily, her eyes wide as if the words she'd just said had been terribly frightening. Harry looked at her puzzled.

"Eh, why exactly?" He glanced quizzically from the mug to Ginny and then back again. It wasn't as if it was balancing on the edge of the table or something, so what could possibly be the big deal?

"Um, eh well, does it matter why?" asked Ginny throatily.

Harry had never seen her like this. It suddenly looked as if she was regretting having said anything in the first place, and she ended the discussion by returning her attention to the Charms book in her lap.

Ron looked questionably at Harry, his quill dangling lopsidedly behind his left ear.

"What was that all about?" he asked curiously with a quick look at his sister who now pretended to be immersed in her book and oblivious to the outside word.

"Don't know," Harry answered and stared dumbfounded at his mug still unsure of what hazard it could possibly cause in its present position. Why on earth would she want him to move it?

After having stared at the mug for another ten minutes without accomplishing anything besides making the hot chocolate turn disgustingly cold again, Harry gave up and reluctantly returned to the assignment in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the portrait swinging open and soon the common room was filled with the familiar sound of Fred and George rattling around like the oversized babies they really were. By the sound of things they were excitedly discussing some new invention of theirs (hardly a surprise). Knowing that he'd learn about it sooner or later Harry didn't even bother to check it out. Anything created by the infamous twins were never a secret for long.

And right he was.

A loud "HOI!" startled Harry into a nervous jump and he barely had time to register that something was heading his way before the yet unidentified object unceremoniously landed with a loud bang smack in the middle of Harry's mug of recently reheated chocolate. Brown scolding liquid soared though the air drenching both Harry and Ron. Yelling and in Ron's case cursing they jumped to their feet but the damage was already done. Harry watched with sad eyes as his nearly completed star chart disintegrated before his eyes. Ron was holding his precious tactics parchment between two fingers while frantically searching for a dry piece of robe to clean of the worst stains.

"What the hell are you playing at?" he yelled angrily at the twins. The offending party was looking part guilty and part amused at the sight of them and Fred raised his hands in the air. "Accident, pure and simple accident," he proclaimed cheerfully. "A slight modification has to be made to the levitation charm on this particular new invention of ours, or so it seems."

"Apparently," Ron answered sarcastically wiping hot chocolate from his eyes.

"Can I interest you gentlemen in a little demonstration perhaps," George ventured innocently. Ron spluttered in outrage.

"You keep that blasted invention at least fifty feet away from this parchment or I'll suspend you both from the team!" he roared threateningly.

Harry barely registered George making a snappy retort that sent Ron into a long rant that seemed to involve the use of Neville as Beater for reasons Harry couldn't phantom. The rest of the yelling session was lost on him as Ginny's words suddenly came back to him.

I would move that mug if I were you.

"How did you know about that?" Harry spun around to the chair Ginny was sitting in desperate for an answer, but it was empty. Ginny had left the room without him noticing.

* * *

The incident with the mug of hot chocolate was lingering heavily on Harry's mind the next couple of days. Both Ron and Hermione had been quick to brush the whole thing off as a lucky guess, female intuition or a mixture of both, but still Harry couldn't help feeling as though there was something more to it. But since then Ginny had been doing her damnedest to avoid him and even though he tried wholeheartedly it was next to impossible to corner her for a private chat. After a few days Harry reluctantly stopped trying and decided to forget about the whole episode.

Harry had to hand it to her; Ginny was seriously doing a fabulous job staying out of his path. Still he somehow managed to keep a watchful eye on her. She continued to look somewhat tired and absentminded but aside from that she seemed perfectly normal. Harry was also surprised to discover that he genuinely missed her company. Ever since his stay at the Burrow this summer he'd started spending more and more time with her, especially since Ron and Hermione had upped their bickering frequency significantly this year. Their traditional squabbling over trivialities was amusing to a certain degree, but it also made him feel somewhat neglected and left out.

So with Ginny presently treating him like a plague-infested twat, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit lonesome. He was therefore thoroughly relieved when Ginny about a week later out of the blue started talking to him again. Harry assumed this had something to do with the fact that he had made no attempts to worm any explanations concerning the mug-incident out of her and so he decided to never mentioned it again, although he secretly was dying to.

One afternoon as they were heading down to the Quidditch pitch for practice, Harry was enthusiastically recounting the mess her brother had made in Potions that same day. Ginny was practically in stitches as he described how the Decomposing Potion they'd been asked to brew had slightly overcooked due to the fact that Ron hadn't been paying adequate attention (he'd been busy gawking intensely at Fleur) and half his desk had managed to rot away before Professor Delacour had spotted the mishap, cleaned up the mess and repaired the damage. Needless to say she had not been particularly impressed with Ron's handiwork and taken five points from Gryffindor. Hermione had been even more annoyed and another fight per parchment had kept them busy for the remainder of the class.

They were almost at the changing rooms when Ginny suddenly stopped dead and her laughter died instantly.

"What is it...?" Harry began but his question soon died on his lips. Ginny's face had gone shockingly pale and her breath was ragged. The contrast between the stiff person now standing in front of him and the laughing girl from just a moment earlier was quite frankly a tad scary. But the most remarkable difference was in her eyes. They had suddenly become unfocused and were flicking rapidly from side to side. This lasted for a few seconds, whereupon her eyes rolled back in to her head and all Harry could see was the white of her eyeballs and he shuddered involuntary.

Then as suddenly as it began it was over.

With a shake of the head Ginny snapped out of it and upon seeing Harry's bewildered and questionable stare instantly blushed crimson. Out of all the people why did he have to witness that? She cursed inwardly and put up her most dazzling smile hoping he wouldn't ask. As expected it didn't help.

"What the hell just happened there, Gin?"

It wasn't really a question, but rather a demand for an explanation. The look he was giving her spoke volumes. He'd kept his mouth shut about the mug, but she knew he was wondering, practically dying to ask her about it. He'd been watching her closely as of lately, probably wondering why she always seemed tired. With the mug-thing and now this, Harry and his ever peaked curiosity was in all probability threatening to boil over at this point.

Yet she couldn't tell him. He would laugh. Or worse he would believe her and then there would be all this questions. And she wasn't ready to face those.

"Um, I just remembered that I forgot my knee protectors in my dormitory, that's all."

She blushed as she told him this downright lie. Harry didn't believe her, it was written all over his face and before he could respond she whirled around and ran back to the castle hoping he wouldn't follow her.

He didn't and she sighed with relief as she stood in the Entrance Hall panting for a moment before she again walked down to the changing rooms. Harry was nowhere in sight. She would have to deal with his questions later there were more important things to worry about right now.

Such as making sure Harry survived Quidditch practice...

* * *

When Harry woke up he had no idea were he was. Two things he was sure of though: One; he had a throbbing headache and his right hand appeared somewhat numb and two; he wasn't in his bed in the fifth year dormitory. The latter observation was reached based upon the fact that the bed he was presently sprawled in didn't have hangings, and secondly Neville's familiar snoring was missing.

The evidence all pointed in the same direction: He was in the infirmary - again!

Groaning irritably Harry fumbled the nightstand for his glasses, found them and put them on. Yes indeed, he was most certainly in the hospital wing. Wonderful, he thought sarcastically. An injury was just what he needed so close to the game against Hufflepuff. He lay back in the bed and tentatively touched his limbs in order to get a feel of the severity of the injury. He was pleased to find that it wasn't too bad although he suspected a broken bone in his hand had been mended during the night (he also thought he could spy the familiar shape of a bottle of Skele-grow on the table across from his bed).

The door suddenly swung open and a red-haired, freckled someone peered inside. It was Ron.

"Hi, you awake?" he whispered while glancing nervously around obviously checking that Madam Pomfrey wasn't prowling about ready to throw him back out in the corridor.

Grinning widely Harry gestured for him to enter. "Yeah, come in, the dragon's not here I think."

Ron hurried over and sat down next to Harry's bed. He reached into his frayed robe and flung a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans in his lap.

"Thought you might be a bit peckish," he said with a grin. "Breakfast isn't for another half hour or so, otherwise I would have brought you something a little more nourishing. This was the only edible thing I found unless you count Gred and Forge's assorted pastries."

He looked a bit guilty for not having anything better to offer, but Harry grabbed the package gratefully. His stomach was frightfully empty letting out loud complaining noises. "Brilliant! Thanks Ron." Ron lit up as Harry put a toffee-flavoured bean in his mouth chewing happily.

"How's your arm?" asked Ron bluntly leaning over as if inspecting it for possible malformations. "That was quite a hit you took there, just hope it won't affect your flying."

Harry hadn't had time to think about the reason how his arm had broken in the first place but assumed it had something to do with Quidditch.

"What exactly happened, Ron? I can't really remember much of it..."

"You don't?" Ron asked surprised. "Well, you did take a nasty blow to the head too so I'm guessing it might have affected your memory or something. Anyway, unfortunately I didn't actually witness it myself seeing as I was busy being nagged endlessly about an incomplete Charms assignment at the time, no need to tell by who..." He grimaced slightly. "I swear that girl has a sixth sense about unfinished schoolwork, it's uncanny. And I so wanted to be at the practice to help perfect my latest tactics and all."

Harry gave Ron a pointed look. "Right, your accident I'm coming to that. Fred told me everything." Ron grabbed a yellow bean and devoured it before he continued. "Apparently the team was having an especially good practice. Fred told me about some of the diversion dives you did. Really amazing he said they were. But anyway, about half way through the practice Ginny flew over to Fred and asked to borrow a beater's bat from him. He thought it was a rather strange request but she insisted but didn't offer him any explanations for why she needed it. In the end he just gave her one of the spare ones to shut her up."

Harry raised a curious eyebrow. What did Ginny borrowing a beater's bat have to do with him being in the bloody infirmary? And why in the blazes would she need one in the first place?

After munching another handful of beans, gagging slightly and spitting out a disgusting looking brownish bean Ron continued the story.

"Fred said it was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. While George was busy explaining one of my more brilliant formation tactics to the Chasers and you were still midair perfecting a dive of sorts, Ginny suddenly jumped her broom with the borrowed bat in her hand and soared off towards you. Both Fred and George were on the ground at the time and no Bludgers were in the air, or so they thought. But suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a Bludger appeared heading straight for you. But Ginny was already hovering in the air in front of you waiting for it and hit it out of your way. Fred said it would have hit you square in the head if she hadn't been there. Another Bludger hit you in the arm a second later and Ginny had no way of reaching it in time although she tried. You hit your head when you hit the ground apparently. George tried to catch you with a Levitation Charm but only managed to slow your fall slightly."

Harry was flabbergasted. Gaping he sat staring at Ron unable to say anything. Ginny had saved him from a nasty bump on the head. How utterly bizarre - and fortunate? Next Ron issued out loud the one thing Harry found most unnerving about the whole episode.

"What beats me though is how the blazes Ginny knew those Bludgers would appear, not to mention try to whack you on the head."

Ron was shaking his head disbelievingly as he spoke. "Fred asked her about it after they'd floated you away on a stretcher to this depressing place, but she'd just shrugged it off and called it female intuition. Sounds a bit fishy to me but Hermione swears there's such a thing..."

Ron snorted incredulously. "That's a bit rich coming from Miss I-detest-Divination-and-everything-else-that-can't-be-explained-through-undeniable-laws-of-science. Honestly!"

"Where did the Bludgers come from?" Harry interrupted impatiently, still feeling slightly shocked and not at all up for a long rant about Hermione and her funny quirks.

Ron sneered and crumpled up the by now empty back of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans and threw it angrily towards a crooked shelf filled with ominous looking bottles filled with what looked like orange slim.

"Malfoy who else?" Ron spat venomously looking quite mad and murderous over the fact that someone deliberately had tried to injure his star Seeker. Harry shrugged. For obvious reasons the answer didn't surprise him very much.

"Obviously he was trying to injure you," Ron continued through clenched teeth. "He and one of the Slytherin Chasers released them from behind the changing rooms and cursed them to go directly for you. Luckily though Madam Hooch chose that exact moment to inspect the area and caught the bastards red-handed." Ron chuckled menacingly. "They both got double detention with McGonagall and fifty points were taken from Slytherin."

Harry smiled hearing this. Anything that left Malfoy in trouble was a good thing, even if it meant breaking an arm or two to achieve it.

* * *

To Harry's immense disappointment Madam Pomfrey released him from the Infirmary in time for lunch the same day. Normally such a quick release would've left him in a state of ecstasy, but for once he wished the matron had insisted in keeping him in bed a bit longer. The reason? Well double Potions, obviously.

Even though Snape was delightfully absent at the moment, Potions was still undeniably Harry's least favourite subject (perhaps with the exception of Divination). Fleur was a pleasant enough teacher, but that didn't really improve his skills in potion making.

Harry was cursing as he headed towards the Great Hall for lunch. The presence of Slytherins for two straight hours was another thing he wasn't particularly looking forward to. Though his arm had mended beautifully during the night his headache was still painfully present, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Malfoy and his cronies easily could add to it this afternoon.

Entering the Great Hall Harry immediately spotted Ron's flaming red hair at the Gryffindor table. As always he was sitting next to Hermione and both his and hers arms were waiving frantically in the air as they spoke. Oh no, Harry thought tiredly bracing himself for yet another lunch where he was forced to listen to one of their pointless arguments. He briefly considered sitting down with Seamus and Dean as a silent protest to his friends never ending bickering but quickly changed his mind when he spotted a large and colourful bruise on Seamus' cheek. Not sure he wanted to know how that happened he unenthusiastically slipped into an empty seat across from his two friends. Reaching for a goblet of pumpkin juice and draining it greedily he idly wondered what would be worse for his already unbearable headache - Malfoy or these two.

Ron and Hermione were in fact so engrossed in their discussion that they didn't notice Harry's arrival. He was astonished (and relieved) to see that they weren't bickering as first assumed. Harry studied them with great interest. It was a seldom sight seeing Ron and Hermione having such an animated and excited conversation and it felt almost a shame to interrupt, so he didn't.

They seemed to be talking about some sort of creature Charlie had brought to Care of Magical Creatures class that morning. Harry smiled to himself as they continued laughing and talking about the apelike Demiguise that they'd studied. From what he could understand Crabbe and Goyle had made a mockery of themselves by trying to cut off large chunks of the Demiguise's silvery hair. They'd obviously been planning to use it for an invisibility cloak but Charlie had caught them in the act and exposed them to some of his legendary Weasley-temper making the two giant-like boys quiver with fear.

Harry chuckled at the mental image and Hermione and Ron finally acknowledged his presence.

"Harry, you're back!" Hermione exclaimed with a look of genuine surprise on her face before her eyes suddenly turned suspicious. "You didn't run off now did you? I would simply hate to take points from you for something so stupid..."

"Nah Mione, I bet Madam Pomfrey kicked him out," Ron said with a grin. "He's probably been whining non stop since he woke up and the poor old spinster kicked him out to save her sanity. Otherwise the boy would have the good sense to stay at least until Potions was over. You know how young Potter here despises that subject, not to mention those irritable Slytherin pests."

Harry smiled broadly and continued eating his toast. It was wonderful having a friend like Ron who knew him so well and could easily predict his every move and thought.

"Really Ron, is that all you think about, skipping classes?" Hermione was frowning slightly and Ron flashed a wide grin nodding enthusiastically, unidentifiable bits of lunch protruding from the corners of his mouth.

Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. "And for goodness sake, Ron you really shouldn't go around calling members of the staff spinsters. That's simply disrespectful given the important service Madam Pomfrey provides..."

"Yeah yeah, I hear you, now lay off with the prefectness will you, I'm trying to enjoy my lunch." Hermione made an impatient snorting sound in the back of her throat and turned her attention back to Harry. Her eyes fell on his plate and both eyebrows shot up into her hair when she saw that he'd almost finished his lunch already.

"How long have you been sitting here?" she asked.

"Don't know," Harry said with a shrug. "Ten minutes or so, maybe more. Why?"

"No reason in particular, it's just that I didn't noticed you sitting down, that's all," she said while pouring herself another glass of pumpkin juice.

"Yeah I know. You and Weasley were kind of, how do I put this, oblivious to anything beside each other at the time of my arrival."

Harry smiled wickedly as he watched their cheeks flush crimson in perfect sync. Ron quickly changed the topic and began telling Harry the latest rumour about Seamus Finnigan and Padma Patil that was circling the castle. Apparently Padma's twin sister Parvati had caught the pair of them in a rather compromising position in one of the broom closets yesterday evening and thrown a tantrum. Seamus had sworn he thought Padma was Parvati and that nothing had happened. Parvati had not been particularly impressed by the fact that he couldn't tell them apart but would probably have forgiven him if it weren't for the large love bite clearly visible like a bright beacon in the night on Padma's neck.

Harry laughed heartily at Ron's story. This also explained the ugly bruise on his cheek, he thought amusedly. He glanced down the table were Seamus was still sitting safely wedged between Dean and Neville, with a gloomy look on his face. Parvati was sitting not far from him but was demonstratively avoiding meeting his eyes.

Seamus has kissed a girl, Harry suddenly realized as he watched his fellow fifth year unsuccessfully try to get Parvati's attention. A year ago the thought of kissing a girl would have made Harry feel nauseous, but now he found himself extremely jealous of Seamus.

Whoa, Harry thought to himself. He too wanted to kiss a girl. The realization made his cheek flush slightly and quickly he busied himself with straightening his tie hoping no one would notice. He had no idea how to kiss, no experience what so ever in that department. Hermione and Fleur had both kissed him on the cheek but that didn't count as real kisses, and besides they were just friends.

Harry knew whom he wanted to kiss, though... He blushed again. Don't ever think about that again, he told himself sternly feeling that his thoughts had wandered into way too complicated areas for his liking. This just wasn't the kind of things one pondered in flaming public, now was it?

Seconds later he noticed the smell. At first Harry didn't know whether it was his imagination playing tricks on him considering the lurid scenes that had just played out in his mind. It was as though a meadow of flowers had just sat down beside him. There was only one person that smelled like that - Ginny.

Harry turned his head slightly and chanced a glance to his right. And yes, there she was, busy buttering her toast at the moment but Harry instantly knew that she was aware of him looking at her.

"How's your arm?" she asked without looking at him.

"Fine," Harry squeaked and instantly wished a hole in the ground would appear for him to throw himself into. Ginny however didn't seem to find his appalling voice the slightest bit odd.

"Hand me the marmalade, will you?"

Still slightly dazed by her sudden presence Harry reached for the jar and handed it to her with shaking hands.

A silence fell between them after that. After squirming in his seat for a couple of minutes mentally contemplating whether he should bolt or stay and confront his saviour, Harry opted for the latter.

"I heard the strangest rumour this morning," he said slowly. Ginny turned towards him and raised her eyebrows faking surprise.

"Really?" she said sweetly, "Surely not about Padma and Seamus, that news is just so old." Harry shook his head, leaned close and whispered in her ear. "No actually, it was something completely different. I heard that a certain someone saved another someone from getting seriously cuffed on the head yesterday." He paused and met Ginny's eye. "Thank you, Ginevra Weasley. You're a true life saviour." Ginny blushed and lowered her eyes.

"How did you know?" Harry couldn't help asking but regretted it immediately upon seeing the effect it had on Ginny. She tensed and looked like she wanted to flee the premises as soon as possible. Sensing her wish to depart Harry grabbed her hand. "I mean, how could you possibly have known that Bludgers would appear like that?"

"Just a gut-feeling that's all. I saw Malfoy and another ominous looking bloke lurking around the changing rooms on my way down to the pitch and seeing as they are in fact Slytherins, I knew they weren't there for moral support. So I kept my eyes open for anything fishy," she said casually waving her hands to signal that it wasn't a bit deal.

But Harry disagreed. It was a big deal, but the topic was obviously not up for discussion at this point seeing as Ginny had now turned her back to him and engaged Fred (or was it George?) in a conversation about what to get their father for Christmas.

There was definitely something strange going on with Ginny.

* * *

All too soon lunch was over and dejectedly the threesome dragged their feet down the stairs to the dungeons for a much dreaded class of Potions with the Slytherins. Harry's headache had improved slightly since his release from the hospital wing but he suspected the mere sight of Malfoy would be enough to make it return to full power. Despite how much Harry disliked the slick blonde boy he would never stoop so low as to try and sabotage his team by setting cursed Bludgers lose on them. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if Malfoy had any shred of humanity left in him at all. Somehow he doubted it.

They entered the classroom a few minutes early and were quite sad to see Malfoy and his two hoodlums already present and accounted for. Brilliant, Harry thought despairingly as he dropped his bag onto the usual desk at the back. No teacher in sight and a Malfoy with a grudge. This was bad news.

And right he was...

"So, Potty is back from the Hospital wing I see," Malfoy said in his usual drawling voice. Harry glanced around the room and then turned to Ron and Hermione.

"I thought I heard something, but I guess it was my imagination," he said loudly and shrugged. "Couldn't see anyone in this room except for a couple of nasty-looking Slytherins but as it is common knowledge that those creatures are incapable of coherent speak, it couldn't be them right?"

Ron sniggered and even Hermione couldn't help but smile. Malfoy on the other hand was seething. "Very funny, Potter. You're quite the comedian, it seems." Harry bowed slightly in Malfoy's direction accepting the compliment.

"I also hear you've hired the Weasel's little sister as your personal body guard. Good with the bat that girl." Malfoy chuckled evilly and pulled his mouth into something that vaguely resembled a smile. "How much are you paying for her services? Weasels need all the money they can get I imagine. Are you perchance paying her for extra services too or does the Mudblood provide the both of you?"

Harry felt his face go red with anger. Was there no end to the profanities Malfoy would resort too? How could he say things like that with a straight face?

He hadn't felt such anger since he'd inflated Aunt Marge two years ago. A quick look at Ron told him that he was in much the same state. It was really enough for Malfoy to utter the word "Mudblood" and Ron would attack. The reference to his sister in addition was undoubtedly not helping him control his temper. Hermione obviously sensed the danger because she was making a futile attempt at steering Ron towards the door.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry hissed furiously. Malfoy just sneered in response. "Obviously you're paying the Weasley-girl, she'd never go down on you otherwise," he said maliciously and Crabbe and Goyle laughed goofily (though Harry suspected they didn't have a clue what their master was talking about).

"As for the Weasel here," he continued with an appalled look at the struggling Ron, "I wouldn't be surprised if he in fact paid the Mudblood for blowjobs."

That was the last straw. Four years of taking all sorts of insults from that good for nothing slime ball was quite enough Harry decided. There was just so much crap he could take and Malfoy's quota was more than up. He wanted to pound that leering pale mug to the floor with a vengeance. But he needed something hard; his fist was far from solid enough to make any lasting damage. But Fleur's large pewter cauldron on the other hand would do nicely. A simple levitation charm and then drop it on the slick bastards head. Yeah, that was definitely the way to do it. Get ready for a lengthy stay in the Infirmary you king among prats, Harry thought with undisguised glee as his hand instinctively reached for his wand.

But the wand never came as far as out of Harry's pocket. Suddenly a strange warm feeling was spreading rapidly through his body like a huge wave was building up. The warm wave then rushed down his right arm, and before Harry could even fully register what was happening, something extraordinary happened. The cauldron in question came souring through the air, hovered for a second above Malfoy's head, and then - BANG!

The sight was priceless. Malfoy was out cold, Crabbe and Goyle was staring dumfounded at their master while Pansy and her Slytherin girlfriends were shrieking like out of control monkeys. The insane racket soon attracted Fleur's attention. The door to her office opened and a very stern looking part-Veela strode into the classroom. Upon seeing Malfoy unconscious on the floor she let out a loud gasp and bent over to examine him.

"What 'appened 'ere?" she demanded looking from Harry to Ron obviously believing that one of them (or possibly both) was the cause of this.

Harry felt very confused. What exactly had just happened? He had wanted the cauldron to hit Malfoy, he'd planned how to do it, and then that strange feeling in his arm before - boom. He had the most peculiar feeling that it had in fact been he who'd done it. But how to explain that?

"Well?" Fleur was impatiently awaiting an explanation as to why one of her students had been attracted by her favourite cauldron and Pansy didn't waste time blaming it on Ron and Harry.

"They did it," she squealed in between sobs. "They just walked into the room and started pelting poor Draco with hexes." Naturally all the Slytherins backed Pansy's version of the events and although they heartily denied having as much as touched their wands or the offending cauldron, Fleur still ended up serving them with detention.

Dean and Seamus were in rapture over Ron and Harry's achievement, patting their backs jovially for minutes and Professor Delacour had to shout for several minutes before she got the class to calm down enough to get them to start working on the complicated potion of the day.

Hermione on the other hand looked less than happy about the detentions they'd gotten if the dark looks she kept sending them were anything to judge by. But Harry didn't really care one way or the other what anyone thought about the incident.

All he wanted to know was why and how he'd made that cauldron fly...