Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter fifteen:

The consequence of being a hot-headed dimwit

The swishing sounds of cloaks filled the air. In the background the faint sound of howling wind and angry waves beating mercilessly against bare rock could be heard adding to the sinister atmosphere. Through a tall archway on the farthest side of a large square room about twenty cloaked and hooded figures emerged, all chanting rhythmically. Slowly they made their way to the centre of the room positioning themselves around a podium completely covered in green and silver velvet. As soon as the circle had been formed the chanting ceased.

A strange threesome suddenly appeared at the doorway on the opposite side of the room. A large slithering snake made out the front of the procession followed closely by a man draped in magnificent dark red robes matching his red glowing eyes. His face was snakelike and ominous and as they approached the podium the hooded figures all fell to the floor in a deep bow, no one daring to look up.

Right behind the Dark Lord the small bolding man called Wormtail followed nervously. He was carrying a large scroll of parchment and appeared to be concentrating hard not to drop it o trip on his own feet.

The snake slithered into position at the foot of the podium much like an obscure ornament and Voldemort took time to pet its glistering skin soothingly before he stepped onto his stage. Immediately all torches in the room were extinguished and a sickly red spotlight effectively illuminated the Dark Lord. He gestured for his followers to rise from the dust and immediately they obeyed. His red snaky eyes surveyed the crowd, a cold and malevolent smile screwing up his face.

"My dear Death Eaters of the highest rank," he began in a venomous hiss. "Welcome to another gathering where we will continue to plan our way to power in greater detail. We have begun to spread terror and fear among wizards and witches nationwide and with a pathetic fool like Minister Fudge as head of the Ministry, the resistance is feeble and in obvious minority. At the moment we have the upper hand and by choosing our next targets with precision and accuracy our lead on Dumbledore and his pitiable little Order will soon be larger than ever."

Loud cheers and applause broke loose among the supporters but Voldemort quickly silenced them with a wave of a hand.

"Silence! I see no need to celebrate our superiority in advance. Our goal is within reach but still there are obstacles to be dealt with. I have already mentioned Dumbledore but another wizard also needs to be ridded from this world." He paused for a moment. If someone had dropped a feather it would've sounded like an earthquake. The silence was absolute. Then Voldemort spoke again.

"I am of course taking about Harry Potter!"

An excited murmur broke out at the sound of the name. Voldemort's voice drowned the racket effectively. "You are aware of the prophecy made approximately a thousand years ago. I am not willing to take a chance and hope it is mistaken. Instead we eliminate the threat. With the help of our newest member this will be accomplished within the summer."

He beckoned for the Death Eater to his right to step forward and the he instantly obliged. A cruel smile spread over Voldemort's maltreated face.

"With your help and knowledge, the Potter-boy will soon be nothing but a distant memory and no longer any threat to our domination. Your presence at the school will naturally be essential; he will never suspect you I'm sure. After all the boy is only fifteen of age and by nature naïve and gullible." His shrill and piercing laugh filled the room.

"However, more preparations must be done before action will be taken. But in the meantime we will continue to spread fear as well as recruit new members. Those who will not join us willingly will experience the wrath of Lord Voldemort." He smiled an evil smile and turned towards the hooded figure standing to his left.

"Lucius, I believe you and your crowd have tried to recruit the Johnson family but so far without success."

The man stepped forward and nodded affirmatively. "Yes my Lord, the stupid Gryffindors are resisting our attempts to make them see reason. I believe a more drastic warning might be in order to open their eyes and make them see the light. Or perhaps the dark is a more precise description." The voice was drawling and gleeful, giving off the impression that he was most happily anticipating executing the threat.

"In that case I suggest you help them come to the right conclusion. Use whatever measure you find necessary, but remember," Voldemort said as he wrung his hands in a satisfied manner. "And remember; the more violent the persuasion is the better."

The crowd broke into loud and penetrating chuckles.

At the same time, behind heavy velvet curtains in a canopy bed in the Gryffindor boys' fifth year dormitory, Harry Potter woke with a scream. His scar was hurting like never before and instantly he clasped his hands to his forehead trying desperately to ease some of the pain. The aching alone was excruciating, and the lingering images from his dream were not exactly helping. Funnily enough they were still clear as glass to him unlike most dreams that left your memory as soon as you woke up. In a strange sort of way it felt almost as if he'd been present in the room.

Still trying helplessly to knead the pain away from his forehead, Harry heard the unmistakable sound of naked feet moving hurriedly over the floor. Seconds later Ron's concerned face peer through the curtains.

"You alright, Harry?" he croaked hoarsely, his voice obviously not quite prepared for a conversation at this time of night.

Harry shook his head, something that only added to the pain. Cold sweat covered his face and he was breathing heavily. He heard Ron swallowing anxiously beside him but couldn't bring himself to open his eyes yet. The pain was too great and light would only add to it.

"Your scar?"

Ron knew the answer but asked anyway. Harry's loud and piercing scream had awakened him with a start, and looking at him now all sprawled out on his bed, wheezing and squirming, Ron knew with certainty that his dream had been a bad one.

"What time is it?" Harry asked in a shaky voice. "Twenty to four," Ron answered after checking the alarm clock on the night stand next to Harry's bed. Harry rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The pain in the scar seemed to be lessening somewhat and he leaned heavily back on his pillows. He smiled weakly.

"I suppose it's kind of early to go see Dumbledore?"

Ron nodded. "Just a tad. Bad dream? You-kno.... Oh this is stupid, I mean Voldemort?" Ron paled considerably after successfully pronouncing the forbidden word without falling dead to the floor. Despite the throbbing pain Harry managed a small chuckle. Ron was slowly overcoming his fear for the nine letters. Good for him. And about bloody time too.

"Yeah, it was Voldemort alright," Harry confirmed. Ron cringed slightly at the unnecessary repeat of the feared name, and tiredly Harry rolled his eyes. "Tell you what Ron, let's try to get some more sleep and then I'll tell you, Hermione and Ginny all about it in the morning. Okay?"

Ron looked around the dorm to check that they hadn't woken any of the other boys. Naturally he'd much rather hear about it now, but retelling his dreams always seemed to drain Harry of all his spirit and Ron would hate for him to go through that more times than necessary. And there was no chance in hell he was traipsing off to get Hermione in her dormitory again (although he wouldn't mind a second glimpse at that nightie...).

"Alright then," he said and brushed some sleep-tousled hair out of his eyes. "Will you be able to go back to sleep now?"

"I hope so. Not to keen on any more dreams though. Would you mind getting me the small flask with the blue liquid from my trunk?"

"Sure, mate," Ron said and tiptoed over to the trunk, rummaged around for a while before returning with a small bottle. He handed it to Harry with a questionable look on his face.

"Potion for dreamless sleep," Harry said explanatory and Ron smiled reassuringly.

"See you in the morning Harry. Goodnight."

"Night, Ron," Harry answered watching Ron disappear from view before he treated himself to a generous sip of the small flask. Moments later he drifted off to a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

The potion was clearly effective because Harry woke the next day feeling quite refreshed. He actually managed to enjoy a blissful ten minutes of cuddling under his blanket staring dreamily out the window before it all came back to him. Having first remembered last night's dream, it proved impossible to get rid off. The nightmare was still vividly imprinted on his mind, and lazying around his bed all morning would not make it go away, that much was certain.

Ron was already up and Harry found him and Hermione in the common room waiting somewhat impatiently for him to arrive. Ron had obviously informed Hermione of his nightmare but thankfully none of them mentioned it on the way down to the Great Hall. Ron and Harry had made a pact during detention the previous night not to discuss things like this in the presence of others. Whether Hermione was brought up to speed on their little decision or not, Harry didn't know, but at least she was playing along with it. But then again it would be just like Hermione to reach such a smart conclusion on her own, smartest witch of her age as she was...

As they ate their breakfast Harry did his best to act normally. He even attempted to engage himself in a conversation with Seamus and Colin Creevy about racing owls but his heart wasn't really in it. Out of the corner of his eye he'd just noticed Ginny walking into the hall and casually dumping down next to the unbearable Max. Harry groaned silently wondering how he could get her attention without the grand German cowboy tagging along in her footsteps. He knew she'd be thoroughly annoyed if he didn't tell her about his latest dream, and yet he wasn't too keen on having to tell it more times than absolutely necessary. They really needed to ditch Max and that fast!

"Pssst Ron."

Harry leaned over to his friend and Ron quickly tore his attention away from the reasonably controlled discussion he was having with Hermione. Apparently he was attempting to give her the third degree about her latest research project, but judging by his sulky facial expression she hadn't told him much. It would be just like Hermione to wait until she'd pieced it all together before she let anything slip.

"What is it Harry," Ron asked impatiently, his eyes never leaving Hermione, presumably under fear that she'd run away if he lost eye contact. "I think I'm about to wear her down you know..."

"Ronald Weasley, you stop talking about me like I'm not in the room. Haven't your mother taught you anything about manners?"

Ron pretended to look shocked and clutched his heart.
"You don't find me to be the perfect gentleman? Why Lady Hermione, you've hurt my feelings." Hermione opened her mouth to respond but Harry beat her to it.

"Would you two mind continuing your little talk afterwards, we have more important things to worry about at the moment." Ron stared dumbfound at Harry making him roll his eyes indignantly. "The dream, dimwit. I have to tell Dumbledore about it, and I'd like you two and Ginny to hear about it too."

"Oh right, yeah sure," Ron answered with a faint smile.

"Do you know Ginny's schedule?" Harry asked between mouthfuls. Ron looked muddled and said something that sounded strangely like "dway?" (he was currently chewing no less than three sausages simultaneously) that Harry suspected was supposed to mean "Why".

"I was wondering whether she had a free period at the same time we do. If I can avoid retelling the dream more than once that'd be good. I was hoping to tell all of you simultaneously," Harry explained impatiently. Sometimes Ron was just too slow. Like every bloody morning!

"Sorry, I haven't made it a priority learning my siblings' schedules. I'm having far too much trouble learning and accepting my own you know," Ron replied with a wicked grin. Harry distinctly heard Hermione mutter "Isn't that the truth" but apparently Ron missed her sarcastic comment. "Why don't you just ask her? She sitting right there..."

"Next to the loveable Max, yes I know. Remember what we talked about last night?" Ron nodded.

"Luckily for you guys, I do know her schedule," Hermione chirmed in haughtily. "It's a prefect-thing" she explained hoity-toitily upon seeing Ron's disconcerted facial expression. "She has a free period right after lunch and so have we."

"Brilliant, Max doesn't does he?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No, he's got NEWT level Potions, why do you ask?"

Harry gave Hermione a searching kind of look. "How it is that you know Mad Max' schedule by heart I don't want to know, but I tell you this much: I find it deeply disturbing. But to answer your initial question, I don't really want to risk him lurking ten feet behind Ginny, eavesdropping and being his usual class A git. I don't want to involve anyone else besides you three and the Order."

"But Ginny doesn't know about the Order though, does she?" Hermione asked. "Are you sure you want to include her in all this?"

Surprisingly it was Ron who came to his sister's defence. "She's faced him; it's only fair that she gets to know everything."

"Faced who? What are you talking about Ron?"

Ron turned towards Hermione with a determent look on his freckled face. "Well that is obvious isn't it? Voldemort of course."

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she almost knocked over her bowl of porridge in the shock of hearing Ron utter the V-word. He on the other hand grinned smugly at her and nudged her arm.

"What? Not afraid of a little word are you Mione?" Her face still portrayed shock but she didn't say anything. Ron however looked pleased with himself and smiled lopsidedly at Harry.

"Never saw that one coming now did she?"

* * *

On the way to Transfiguration Hermione managed to steal Ginny away from Max and told her to meet up with them after lunch. Transfiguration passed surprisingly smooth and even Ron managed to turn the assigned badger into a goose earning a rare ten points from an astonished Professor McGonagall.

After sleeping through Professor Binns' monotone and dead boring lecture on Harvey the Hairy and a bunch of other mean goblins, the trio met up with Ginny for lunch. She still had no idea what was going on and looked fit to burst with curiosity but a few well-whispered words from Hermione prevented her from asking about it during the meal.

When the food was consumed Harry discreetly signalled to the Headmaster that he needed to talk to him. Dumbledore excused himself from the head table a few minutes later and shortly after the four Gryffindors also left the Great Hall. Harry led the way to Dumbledore's office where McGonagall stood waiting.

Ginny shuddered slightly as they walked up the winding staircase. Probably remembering the last time she was here, Harry thought recalling the Chamber of Secrets and surprised even himself by grabbing hold of her hand and squeezing it reassuringly. Their eyes met for a split second causing his body to go warm all over. Ginny gave him a shy smile and squeezed back.

As they walked into the office, they found Dumbledore busy pouring fresh tea into six large cups. How he knew Harry would bring his other three friends was beyond him, but he didn't bother to ask. He was more concerned about the meaning of his dream at this point, and didn't even wait for Dumbledore to ask him to sit down. Ron and Hermione looked flabbergasted by Harry's blunt behaviour and when Ginny seconds later followed suit it made Ron and Hermione call out "Ginny!" in perfect scandalized unison.

Dumbledore however chuckled mirthfully and gestured for the last two to take their seats too. "Don't look so shocked my dear students; I tend to agree with Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley that manners are our secondary interest here today."

Judging by the look they shared as they took their seats next to Harry, both seemed to agree that Dumbledore clearly was off his rocker. The headmaster however took no notice and dropped down in his usual chair behind his desk.

"The tea is freshly made and by all means do try the cookies," he urged and pushed the plate towards them. Upon seeing food all thoughts of manners instantly disappeared from Ron's mind and he happily obliged by helping himself to no less than three causing Hermione to shake her head in disbelief.

"I can only assume this unexpected visit have something to do with your scar," Dumbledore said glancing seriously at Harry over his half moon spectacles. Harry nodded. "I had a dream last night and woke up with my scar hurting like hell, excuse the language," he said looking apologetically at McGonagall. She however looked to be engrossed in studying her nails and uncharacteristically overlooked his foul language all together.

"Did you see Voldemort?" Dumbledore enquired while reaching for his teacup. Harry nodded conformingly.

"As I suspected. Before you go on I want to alert someone from the Order. It will save you the trouble of recounting the dream more than once." He rose from his chair and walked briskly over to the fireplace.

"Excuse me?"

Five heads immediately turned towards Ginny. Their scrutinizing stares made her blush scarlet and she began to nervously fidget with the hem of her skirt. "I was just wondering what the Order was?" she managed to pipe out. "I've never heard of it before..."

Dumbledore sniggered heartily.

"You are indeed quite a crafty young man, Mr. Potter I'll certainly give you that. I see you haven't broken your promise not to reveal anything about the Order to anyone beside Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. Instead you brought Ms. Weasley with you here making me disclose it. How very much like your father you are. Not all that many people have outsmarted me like that..."

"You're not mad are you?" Harry asked cautiously. The headmaster shook his head while reaching for one of the jars on the mantelpiece.

"On the contrary, Harry I think it's a splendid idea to include Ms. Weasley into your tight group. I believe she will prove to be a great asset to you. Why don't you bring Ms. Weasley up to speed directly after this meeting?"

Harry smiled broadly and felt a wave of relief at the headmaster's words. He then watched as he grabbed a pinch of yellow powder from the jar and threw it into the fire.

"Remus Lupin," he said with clear voice and seconds later Professor Lupin's head emerged floating in the fire.

"You called?" Lupin's head said a trace of worry detectable in his voice. He scanned the room and raised an eyebrow upon seeing the four Gryffindors. "Another dream?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said calmly. "Harry, whenever you're ready."

And so Harry began to tell the others about his dream. He tried to describe everything about the room, the sounds and the people present in as much detail as possible. Even without interruptions recapturing his dream took close to half an hour and upon finishing his throat felt dry and sandy.

When he'd finished no one said a word. Dumbledore's face was surprisingly neutral, Ron, Ginny and Hermione's was anything but. Both Weasleys had paled considerably and Hermione was anxiously biting her nails. Lupin's head was still floating in the fireplace and Harry noticed a weary look in his eyes.

The depressingly tense atmosphere in the office was more than Harry could take. Dumbledore had signalled for McGonagall to refill all their teacups and Harry thankfully grabbed his and drank greedily. It did wonders for his dry throat but the hot liquid also burnt his tongue in the process. But that wasn't important now. Preventing more Death Eater attacks however was, and this silence was getting them nowhere.

"Do you know what this prophecy Voldemort refers to is all about? And what about this Johnson family? Shouldn't we alert them? Is this Angelina's family? Does anyone have a clue as to who this hooded betrayer is? And he's supposed to be here at school. How do we find him? "

The questions just kept on pouring out of him. For each question asked two new ones came to mind and it was almost impossible to stop. None of the people present made any attempt to silence him but Harry knew he most likely would walk out of the office almost as clueless as when he entered. That was the really annoying thing about Dumbledore - he never rushed things and preferred for people to work out the answers for themselves. But then again that was precisely what made him the greatest wizard of his age.

And so Harry stopped and for another moment the only sound audible was the low tunes coming from Fawkes the Phoenix. He was sitting on his perch with those magnificent eyes looking directly at Harry. The beautiful music did have its effect because Harry immediately felt soothed and more peaceful than he had in a long time.

Seeing Fawkes always made Harry think of Ginny. He could feel her eyes on him and somehow knew she was thinking about the same incident. Reluctantly he tore his eyes away from the special bird and returned his gaze to the headmaster.

Dumbledore was thoughtfully chewing on a cookie and Harry was not at all surprised to see the old man help himself to a third cup of tea. Really, Harry though amazedly, the headmaster must have a ten-litre bladder to be able to drink that much without stepping out to the loo even once. But before he could give more thought to that topic Dumbledore (thankfully) began to speak.

"So many questions my dear Harry, but alas I will not be able to give you the answers you seek to all of these. But some things I can tell you. Firstly I believe you are correct in assuming that the family mentioned by Voldemort is indeed Ms. Angelina Johnson's."

Ginny let out a small gasp and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Ron reached out and clumsily squeezed his sister's other hand. Angelina was Fred's girlfriend and the thought of anything happening to her family was terrifying.

"Remus, could you please arrange for a team of our most trusted members to cast heavy security wards around the Johnson residence as soon as possible. I also suggest twenty-four hour surveillance. After all Mr. Johnson holds a prominent position with the Ministry and are, as I have understood one of Mr. Weasley's trusted collaborators for the Order. We can not risk loosing them."

"I will of course get right on it, sir," Lupin answered gravely. "Should I start immediately or do you want me to stay longer?"

Dumbledore smiled weakly and waved lightly in Lupin's direction. "You are excused, Remus. I will talk to you again later this evening."

The floating Remus-head nodded understandingly. "Alright, see you later guys, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny." He gave them a slight wink and with a pop the head was gone.

Astonishingly Hermione hadn't said a word the entire session, but by the way she was chewing her lower lip and shifting restlessly in her chair, it was obvious to Harry that she had something on her mind. Apparently he wasn't the only one to observe this.

"Is there something troubling you, Ms Granger?" Dumbledore inquired. Hermione's eyes lit up at the chance to ask some of the questions bottled up inside her. She cleared her throat and stared directly at the headmaster.

"I was mostly wondering about this prophecy You-know-who keeps referring to. I can't help but speculate whether that and the one Olga Krum told me this summer is in fact the very the same."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled amusedly. "There is little doubt to why the professors keep informing me of your great academic scores Ms. Granger. You seek out patterns were others see nothing but chaos. A mighty powerful ability indeed." Hermione beamed with pride at the headmaster's commendatory words and a slight pink blush was visible on her cheeks.

"Thank you, professor," she said gratefully. "Am I correct, though? Is there a connection between the two?"

Now Harry, Ron and Ginny's curiosity was raised too and four sets of eyes were staring impatiently waiting for his answer. Dumbledore sighed resignedly while slowly stroking his silvery beard. Too Hermione it looked like he was stalling, searching for a way to avoid answering her question something that in itself really was answer enough.

"There is now way," he finally said, "I can be certain that these two prophecies are of the same origin. But truth be told I think it is safe to assume that they are." Harry was startled. He'd never expected Dumbledore to give them such a straight answer. This was unbelievable. He ought to bring Hermione with him more often; she seemed to have a positive effect on him!

"Hah!" Hermione exclaimed triumphantly gazing happily around the room at the other three. Ginny still looked a little confused as well as a bit annoyed. Harry was not particularly looking forward to explaining to her that they'd kept information from her for quite some time. For reasons he wasn't able to admit he hated it when she was mad at him.

Ron's face however portrayed a completely different expression. He was staring at Hermione with eyes gleaming with undisguised adoration and a dumb smile plastered all over his face. Harry unsuccessfully tried to hide a smirk from Ron whose ears went a traditional shade of red as he realized what he was doing.

Note to self, Harry thought amused. Must make Ron confess his feelings towards Hermione - the sooner the better. Hermione however had missed the display completely and instead kept on talking.

"So, what are we suppose to make of all this?"

"Alas my dear students that is something I am not willing to convey to you at this date." Harry was not surprised to hear this but Hermione was frustrated to say the least. "What? Are you serious? You mean to tell us that you know the whole content of this prophecy - because I assume what we've heard so far is only a fraction of the entire thing - and still you refuse to elaborate. We could possibly safe lives by being informed at this stage and you're telling us no. I don't understand...."

She had now jumped out of her chair and was leaning elatedly over Dumbledore's desk staring him straight in the eye without blinking. Dumbledore sighed loudly and shook his head at the perturbed girl.

"My dear Hermione, I deeply understand your need to learn the details today but that is not the way the world works. I am a firm believer of fate taking its turn. The facts will be revealed to you when the time is right, never doubt that."
"But..."

"That is my final word with regards to the prophecy."

His voice had an unmistakable ring of absoluteness to it that clearly indicated that the subject was closed for discussion. Reluctantly Hermione retreated to her chair looking far from satisfied with the vague replies they'd been given. "At least for the time being," Dumbledore added with a small wink at Harry and he got the distinct feeling that he was only saying that to lift her spirits somewhat.

"You are free to go unless there is something else on your minds." Harry, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other before shaking their heads and rose from their seats. Harry suddenly noted that Ginny had already left her chair.

"Is something arousing your interest in my bookshelves, Ms. Weasley?"

The question startled Ginny. She was standing facing one of Dumbledore's large bookshelves with her nose firmly buried in a large leather-bound book. She practically jumped at the sound of the headmaster's question being directed at her and the book she was holding fell to the floor with a thump. It was a very old and battered book Harry noticed, the parchment looked old and yellowish and it seemed somewhat torn and scruffy.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered embarrassedly and bent over to pick it up. As she was kneeling on the floor her eyes fell on the page open in front of her. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed slightly. It looked like she was holding her breath as she slowly reached for the book, closed it carefully and placed it back in the bookshelf.

"That is quite all right dear, no harm done I'm sure," the headmaster said comfortingly. "I must however repentantly inform you that none of my books are for loan. I leave that business entirely to Madam Pince; she would have my head if she thought I was moving in on her territory." He chuckled merrily. "Although I personally wouldn't mind trading some of these many tomes for a pair of woolly socks."

And with that being the final words the foursome left the office.

* * *

After leaving the headmaster's office all four hurried to the Common room and was relieved to find it practically deserted. They crammed into the furthest corner and in low whispering voices the trio rapidly brought Ginny up to speed on the Order and its members. At first she sat rather stiffly as if determined to demonstrate her disappointment over being left in the dark for so long. It did however not take long before amazement and excitement had taken over and in the end she was smiling quite broadly, the thoughts of treating them huffily and punitive long forgotten.

Unfortunately their free period ended way too soon. Reluctantly Ginny left for Charms while the others headed outside for a freezing cold Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Not knowing what creature (or beast) they could expect to find grazing down by the edge of the forest they amused themselves by guessing randomly from the large consortium of animals they thought Charlie would consider. But as it turned out none of them was even close to a correct answer.

When they reached the paddock there were no savaging beasts in sight. In fact there wasn't even the slightest trace of a lazy Flobberworm in sight. Instead a slightly distracted and nervous-looking Charlie Weasley was pacing up and down the frosty yard in front of Hagrid's cabin.

They quickly joined Dean and Seamus to find out what was going on when Malfoy's familiar twang caught their attention.

"Honestly, look at the oaf," he drawled with obvious glee. "Have you ever seen anyone looking more preoccupied in your life?" Two deep grunts signalled that Crabbe and Goyle were still alive and kicking (although there had been no sign of brain activity so far that year) and this encouraged Malfoy to go on.

"Why Dumbledore would let a Weasley teach anything is in itself a mystery, but by god look at the man!" He pointed to Charlie who by now had stopped pacing and was scratching himself frantically behind his ear while casting nervous glances towards Ron and Harry. His peculiar behaviour lasted the entire lesson. The first shock came when he announced that he in fact had no creatures for them to examine that day. This would've been all fair and well if it weren't for the fact that he hadn't prepared anything else for class either. In other words - they spent sixty minutes freezing themselves silly without learning anything worthwhile besides how to cast heating charms on each other. Unfortunately for Parvati, Charlie was so preoccupied and far away in thought that he completely missed Neville slightly overdoing it leaving her practically cooking in her robes.

The day only seemed to go downhill after that. Back in Gryffindor tower after dinner that evening an alarmingly serious-looking George greeted them. After reassuring everybody numerous times that he was in fact trying to make a truthful announcement he finally managed to deliver his message. Due to an attack on a member of one of the Hufflepuff beaters' family, the anticipated Quidditch match had been postponed indefinitely.

Seeing as there would be no games played this side of Christmas, it was decided to cut down on practices to three a week much to Harry's delight. However much he loved Quidditch, Ron's wholehearted attempt to become the reincarnation of Oliver Wood (just with slightly better tactical plans) was exhausting to put it mildly.

And seeing as there was no Quidditch match to worry about and they had no idea how to approach this whole prophecy thing (although Hermione had eagerly proposed to start researching it), Harry was left with just one thing to preoccupy his mind- namely the upcoming New Years Ball.

The Christmas holiday was fast approaching and still he hadn't made up his mind about which girl he should ask to the retched dance. The Patils were definitely out of the question due to the disastrous dates he and Ron had proven to be the previous year. Not that he really wanted to go with either of them in the first place, far from it. Personally Harry found Parvati obnoxiously giggly and couldn't see himself surviving an entire evening in her presence. This again effectively ruled out Lavender as an option, seeing as she and Parvati had identical personalities and most of the time seemed to be sharing a brain.

Sighing heavily Harry allowed his eyes to wander the common room in a desperate search of inspiration and a quick solution to the infuriating date-problem. Honestly, maybe he should just boycott the whole thing? Who would miss him? And more importantly - what would he miss?

A bunch of awkward and embarrassed students dancing unskilfully around the Great Hall, that was for sure. He smiled faintly at the mental picture of Draco Malfoy and Millicent Bulstrode engaged in a heated tango. Seeing such a display would in itself be worth the anguish of asking someone to accompany him. And besides, he knew both Ron and Hermione wanted to go and preferably with each other. But due to unbelievably thick layers of denseness that fact was not yet clear to either of them.

But fixing up Ron and Hermione shouldn't be too hard, Harry thought. Finding a partner for him on the other hand could prove difficult. First to third year girls were totally out of the question. Their nauseating hero-worshipping and constant goggling following his resistance to The Imperius Curse had been hellish and there was no way he was letting one of them tag along for an entire evening.

He continued to gaze around the room and quickly concluded that he really didn't know that many girls, even in Gryffindor. There was of course Angelina, Katie and Alicia but the twins and Lee had already asked them. And aside from Hermione there was really just one other girl he could think of. But she was off limits. Definitely not the girl he should ask if he valued his health.

He stole a quick glance at her. She was sitting by the fire, engrossed in a large book, twinning a lock of her beautiful hair in her fingers. Harry felt warm and happy just thinking about her. How stupid of him never to have noticed her before. She'd been there all along. Reluctantly Harry returned his eyes to the Firebolt that he absentmindedly was trying to polish.

These new feelings had been building up for quite some time and to be frank Harry had deep down known all along what it meant. So far however he'd plainly refused to admit it even to himself.

Because what was the point of admitting it? He could never do anything about it anyway, with protective brothers like Ron and the twins keeping close tabs on her every move. Best friends or not, Harry knew there was no way Ron would be encouraging about him possibly dating Ginny.

But all overbearing brothers aside, Harry still wasn't entirely sure he would've dared admitting to his feelings even if Ron had been okay with it. He ran a hand through his hair in pure frustration, making it (if possible) even more tousled. The dark side had already tried to manipulate her once in order to get to him, imagine what they'd do if they knew he had deeper feelings for her.

Bugger! Why did everything have to be so complicated?

* * *

Across the room Ron was sitting hunched over his very overdue History of Magic essay, a huge frown adorning his freckled face. Frantically he was flopping through the pages of his textbook in a desperate hope that the information he needed somehow would generously jump out into his lap and save him the trouble of actually having to read anything. So far this technique was proving itself unsuccessful. Not that he cared particularly much one way or the other, he wasn't really thinking too much about his essay anyway. In truth it was just a cover; a clever way to keep Hermione from nagging him senseless for a moment so that he could solve a more pressing and important matter.

Ron was running out of time. The ruddy ball was fast approaching and still he had no clue how to solve his pressing date-predicament. He put the Sugar quill (strawberry flavour - by far the best) in his mouth and sucked thoughtfully. He could hear Hermione talking continuously somewhere behind him. Neville had been foolish enough to ask her to give him some pointers regarding some kind of transfiguration and had been stuck with her the past half hour.

Ron chanced a quick look over his shoulder and saw poor Neville sitting next to her nodding stupidly at her every word while desperately searching for means of escape. Ron sniggered silently. Serves the git right for asking her about it in the first place.

Not that talking to Hermione was that bad. To be honest Ron wouldn't mind swapping places with Neville right now. He was dying for a reason to postpone starting this stupid paper; honestly, two rolls of parchment! As if he cared what happened to a bunch of aggressive goblins hundreds of years ago anyway. What was a few measly goblin rebellions compared to mustering up the guts to ask Hermione to the ball? Just thinking about it made Ron break out in cold sweat, and given the choice he was pretty sure he'd be more inclined to take on one of Charlie's beloved dragons rather than face Mione with that question.

An unusually loud sigh brought his attention over to Harry, who appeared to have given up on polishing his Firebolt and was now by the look of things checking out girls. Ron amused himself for a few minutes watching Harry's eyes scan the room and pucker his brows at most girls. Not finding any worthy candidates are you mate, he thought with a smirk. The smirk faded fast however as Harry's eyes wandered towards Hermione.

But surprisingly Harry didn't even award Hermione as much as fleeting look. How strange? Ron thought in honest bewilderment. Wasn't he supposed to be madly in love with her?

Ron bit through his sugar quill in pure excitement. Could this perhaps mean that he'd been wrong about Harry and Hermione having feelings for each other? The prospect was almost too good to be true and Ron had to fight not to perform a celebratory tap dance right there and then. When he thought about it, he hadn't noticed anything even remotely romantic between them since The Hug. To his knowledge there had been no blushing, dreamy goggling or smooching and believe me he had been paying very close attention to them.

A smile started to form at the corner of his mouth. Perhaps he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion this time? Not that he should be surprised by this. Ron Weasley was not exactly known for his level-headed deductions and there was really no denying that he had been known to occasionally make mistakes (although he'd rather snog Snape than admit this openly)...

Fluffy little butterflies with annoyingly ticklish wings suddenly appeared to have been set loose in his stomach. Oh joy, Ron thought delightedly. Perhaps there was hope for him after all. Better polish off that old Weasley charm and pop the question as soon as possible he decided determinedly. Before someone else snatched her from under his nose - again.

And with that firmly established Ron was about to attack his essay with newfound enthusiasm when something quite disturbing caught his eye. Harry was staring rather intensely, not to mention dreamily at - oh lord - Ginny!

What was that suppose to mean?

Ron felt a sudden attack of Weasley-anger building up inside him. He couldn't possibly fancy her, could he? Another glare in Harry's direction thankfully informed him that his eyes had left Ginny, and that the boy who lived was once again busy polishing his broomstick. Ron shook his head and scratched his neck with the sugar quill leaving a sticky trail of sugar in the process. He was probably just being paranoid. Harry liked Cho for Merlin's sake, certainly not his baby sister. There was really no need to worry at all...

* * *

Luckily for Ron Ginny was unaware that he'd just labelled her a "baby" in his mind. She was currently comfortably curled up in front of the fire with her diary perfectly hidden inside her dead boring Potions book. She had overcome her fear of journals somewhere during third year after Hermione had convinced her that taking up the habit of writing would be therapeutic. She had been right and nowadays she wrote almost daily.

Although Ginny had many friends at Hogwarts there was no one she felt she could completely confide in. She and Hermione were slowly getting there but the confinement-bridge had not yet been crossed. Of course, she was as painfully aware of Hermione's crush on her brother as Hermione was about her feelings for Harry, but still they never spoke of it. It was almost like some sort of a tacit collusion between them not to mention anything about the two boys for reasons Ginny didn't quite understand.

She glanced down at her latest entry and slowly reread it.

Dear diary.

You won't believe what actually happened today. Right after breakfast Hermione tore me away from Max (something I was thoroughly thankful for because I believe he was about to ask me to the ball - God forbid) and asked me to meet her, Ron and Harry at lunch. Never have time passed more slowly than this morning. I was extremely curious as to what they wanted to talk about and as it turned out Harry had a dream about You-Know-Who last night and he dragged all of us up to Dumbledore's office to retell it. And I can honestly tell you that was quite the learning experience. Apparently Harry is a member of something called The Order of the Phoenix which is some sort of resistance against the Dark Lord. And would you believe that half the members of my family are enrolled too and I had absolutely no clue. Ron knew of course - but did he bother to tell me? NO. I was ever so furious for a moment but then I learnt that Harry had made a promise to the headmaster not to tell anyone besides Ron and Hermione and by taking me along today he tricked Dumbledore into telling me too. That was just so sweet I could have kissed him but didn't as RON was present. I wish to enter the New Year with all my limbs intact and thought it best not to provoke him....

BUT on a happier note - Harry did actually hold my hand today. It was the sweetest thing, really. I started to feel slightly sick as we approached the office. You see I hadn't been there since my first year and the Chamber of Secrets and some bad memories came to mind. It was as if Harry knew because he took my hand and squeezed it as we walked in. My heart melted and it's practically a wonder I'm still alive.

But to cut a long story short they basically told me everything afterwards but I won't go into detail (it would take forever believe me). I'm so glad they all trust me enough to let me in on all this. If anyone had told me I would be so chummy with Harry Potter a couple of months ago I would probably have choked on my breath and called them insane daydreamers. Hmm. That just proves what funny turns life can take.

So now I'm Harry's friend - which is a good thing, by all means. But although I don't blush a deep shade of ruby every time he's near me anymore or stammer like a maniac that doesn't mean that my less than platonic feelings have vanished. Quite the contrary in fact but to Harry I will never be anything more than a friend or Ron's little sister. Oh how I would love it if he asked me to the ball.

Oh well, miracles can happen. But they very seldom do. At least to me. But a girl can hope, can't she?

I wish you would see me, Harry - as more.

Ginny frowned. Stupid rants. She could see Harry across the room feverishly rubbing his broomstick and seemingly thinking about everything except the ball at the moment. He would probably take his Firebolt to the dance if it were socially acceptable. Judging by the way he treated that piece of wood he seemed to care more about that stupid stick with twigs than girls anyhow.

A sudden image of Harry waltzing passionately with his broomstick caused her to smile, and she quickly shut her books and headed for the dormitory. Having mental visions like that was a sure sign that it was passed her bedtime.

As she passed by Harry she saw him patting the broom affectionately. Well well well, she thought gloomily. She had never thought the day would come when she would be jealous of a broomstick...

* * *

After the smoke from one of the twins' Dungbombs had cleared, Harry noticed Hermione gesturing for him to join her. Exiting his chair, he put the Firebolt by the stairs and headed over to get Ron, who to his utter astonishment appeared to be studying, believe it or not.

On his way over to him a black blob jumping up and down in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Upon inspection it turned out that it was Hermione. She was waving and shaking her head in a very frantic fashion.

"What?" he mouthed upon which she pointed desperately towards Ron while shaking her head, and finally Harry caught on. She didn't want him to join them. I wonder why, he thought with a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Giving up on getting Ron, Harry the room and dumped down in the couch next to her looking ever so smug.

"You prat," was the first words hissed at him. "I don't want him to hear this." A wild head jerk in Ron's direction confirmed Harry's suspicious. Hermione obviously wanted to discuss her little crush. This could get interesting he thought giddily. His broad smirk however wasn't much appreciated and she hit his arm rather hard.

"Hi watch it Rambo, that's my catching arm. Hurt it and you'd endure the wrath of Gryffindor."

"Stop looking so smug, Harry and I'll refrain from bodily harm," she answered with a curled lip. "I'm painfully aware that you find my little problem somewhat amusing, but could you please tone down the smirks a couple of notches? What if people found out?"

She glanced nervously around the common room to assure herself that no one was listening in on their conversation, and Harry couldn't help but snort.

"Don't worry about people finding out, Hermione," he said between chuckles. "I know for a fact that there are several bets going about the two of you." Hermione's mouth dropped open at his words and Harry couldn't help but tease her some more.

"Didn't you know? Well for your information there's one bet about who'll admit to it first, one about when you'll first snog, yet another concerning what broom closets will be used..."

"Shut it, Harry".

The look she was giving him was as icy as Antarctica and he thought it best to quit. "Tease all you will, but keep your voice down. For goodness sake there is no need to announce it to the entire Gryffindor common room is it?" Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment.

"And I naturally assume you are kidding about the bets," she said in a voice suggesting it better be, and Harry wiggled his eyebrows playfully neither confirming nor denying it.

Hermione sank back in the couch clutching a pillow tightly with a resigned look on her face. Harry leaned back with her, seating himself rather closely so that they could talk quietly without everyone listening in.

"It's almost Christmas," she whispered. "You know I want him to ask me to the Ball." Harry nodded.

"Has he said anything to you about who he's taking? I know you two talked about it last year."

Harry grimaced. "Well that is not exactly true. Last year we decided to just do it one day and meet back in the common room that evening with the mission accomplished. We never talked about whom we were going to ask."

"Could you talk to him Harry? You know, probe him on who he'd fancy taking and maybe hint about me...." she stopped talking as Fred walked past giving them a curious look. She blushed and buried her face in the pillow.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," she chanted. "I'll just die if he heard me say that about his brother..."

Harry awkwardly patted her back. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I don't think he heard anything or he'd announced it already."

Hermione answered with a groan and Harry thought it best to be serious for a moment. "Listen; although Ron hasn't said anything specifically about you I am pretty certain that he likes you back."

"You're just saying that to be nice," Hermione said her voice completely muffled by the pillow.

"That's not true. I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. I'm willing to bet my Invisibility Cloak that he is sitting over there pretending to study when in fact he's carefully planning how to ask you to the ball. You have to admit that the vision of Ron studying, willingly I might add, is a tad bit suspicious."

This comment brought Hermione out of her makeshift pillow-lair and she was actually smiling. "You truly are a great friend, Harry," she said looking suspiciously teary-eyed and before he knew it he was wrapped up in an unexpected hug. She released him a moment later giving him a scrutinizing stare.

"So mister," she said with a tantalizingly sweet smirk forming on her face. "What lucky girl are you planning on asking to the ball?" Now it was Hermione's turn to waggle her eyebrows and Harry felt a highly unwanted blush building up.

"As if I can't guess..." she continued and Harry knew he was glowing bright red by now.

"My my, how are you going to explain to Ron that..."

But Harry never heard the end of that sentence. With deep red cheeks he hurried from the couch, picked up his Firebolt and was determined to escape up to the dormitory, and would surely have reached the confinement of his bed if he hadn't caught sight of the very disturbing scene playing out on the other end of the common room.

Engrossed as he'd been in his little talk with Hermione, Harry hadn't noticed Ron secretly watching them from behind his History of Magic book. Ron had no idea they'd been discussing him though. From being pleasantly convinced that there was nothing going on between Harry and Hermione, he was now back to his original conclusion: They were hiding a relationship from him!

It felt as if a cold fist of dread had taken hold of his heart and was now squeezing it tightly. He had trouble breathing and a strange numbness had overtaken him. They were sitting so close, probably whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. Harry (the bastard) looked quite smug about it too, but at least Hermione had the decency to look embarrassed and uncomfortable.

But in the end it was really the hug that brought Ron's world crashing down. A public display of their affection; that was like proclaiming it to the world.

He had lost her.

If there'd been a cliff conveniently situated nearby Ron was certain he'd have thrown himself off it by now. He half-heartedly considered opening a window and leaping out from it but he knew someone would probably stop him before he could follow through. And besides that would be like admitting defeat. He was a Weasley after all; Weasleys didn't do that.

What he would do though was to show them that he didn't care. And it was exactly that thought that drove him to do it.

It was as if someone had switched him on autopilot. Ron got up from his seat and aimlessly headed over to the first girl he saw.

"Lavender," he said loudly (too loudly it turned out because it got everyone's attention). "Would you like to go to the New Years Ball with me?"

Afterwards Ron found it amazing how normal his voice sounded. Asking her hadn't been difficult at all.

Lavender on the other hand looked thoroughly shocked by his question and didn't answer right away. All eyes were on them and such silence hadn't reigned in the common room since McGonagall had been shooting death glares at Fred and George three weeks ago after a rather festive party they'd orchestrated.

Finally Lavender managed to chirp out a squeaky "Yes," and the common room returned to its usual level of sound. Ron immediately turned on his heel and exited through the portrait hole leaving Harry and Hermione looking respectively confused and devastated.

The last coherent thought Harry remembered having before he finally fell asleep that night was that Ron was the biggest hot-headed dimwit he'd ever come across.

To be continued...