It May Be Raining

Author´s Note: Like I said at the beginning of the last chapter: No Harry/Ginny shipping is intended for this story. If you are averse to those typical Harry/Ginny stories, rest assured their interaction, conversations, etc. is only plot device for this story and its sequel. If you were hoping for them to end up together, I´m sorry to inform you that it will not be so. But please read on. It´s a good story anyway.

Chapter Eight

Weasley versus Finch-Fletchly

"You know the Queen of Hearts is always your best bet..."

Harry settled himself on the foot of an empty hospital bed as Ginny raced off to Madame Pomfrey´s office to fetch her. He unfastened his Quidditch robes and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt.

He let out and agitated breath as he examined the injury. His right shoulder was already beginning to change from red to the livid purple of a fresh bruise.

The short, elderly witch that Ginny had gone to find appeared around the corner, followed closely by her small, redheaded assistant. Ginny wore a set, all business-like expression. Harry could tell she enjoyed this sort of work, although he couldn´t guess why in the world anyone would.

"I should have guessed it would be you," was Madame Pomfrey´s greeting upon seeing him. "Hmph! Dislocated," she determined, prodding his shoulder with none of the gentleness Ginny had showed. "Well, dear," her expression darkened, "it would be easier to fix if it were broken."

These words were not meant to be reassuring and, indeed, Harry hadn´t felt that they were at all. He´d had a lot of injuries, Quidditch related and not. But he wasn´t particularly looking forward to the pain that followed.

"This will hurt for just a second, dear," the elderly nurse reassured him after the fact. She lied. It hurt as she mouthed the incantation that set the bones into their original places. It hurt as she walked away to retrieve something else from her office and it hurt as she returned moments later with an awful concoction that she insisted Harry drink down right away. It tasted like tar.

Madame Pomfrey gave a few short instructions and then bustled off to another task.

Ginny came around to the side of the bed and smiled at him. She couldn´t help it. He was being childish, really--it hadn´t hurt that much.

"What are you so amused about?" Harry asked as he closed his eyes to the pain that seemed to be deadening slightly.

"You´re acting like a baby," she laughed as she gingerly placed the tip of her wand to the awful bruise that covered his shoulder.

"What are you doing," Harry asked curiously, more to serve as a change of subject. She was really the only person that he couldn´t stand to have mocking him.

"It will keep the swelling down and we´ll have to do something about that bruise," she answered with the sweetest bedside manner. Harry amused himself with thinking that she was putting it all on for his sake.

"There´s nothing I can do about the stiffness though. You´ll just have to deal with it, I´m afraid," she continued and pulled Harry´s sleeve gently over the injured shoulder.

Her fingers lingered on his arm causing Harry´s stomach to flip uncomfortably. She slid her hand lightly across the crook of his arm where a scar was visible there. "What happened here?" she asked curiously.

"Oh," Harry said, pulling his arm from Ginny´s grip and covering the scar with his left hand. "That´s...it´s just," he stammered, not wanting to lie to her and definitely not wanting to scare her away with the truth.

"What is it Harry, what´s the matter," she asked meeting his eyes with a worried glance. "Was it something I said?" She placed her hands self-consciously in the pockets of her black school robes.

Resigned to tell her the truth, trusting her to be able to handle it, he spoke reluctantly. "At the end of last year," he began. "Voldemort." She flinched only slightly at the name.

"I´m sorry, Harry," she said cutting off further explanation. No more was needed Harry guessed. "I didn´t mean to bring it up, I didn´t know." She eyed the ground guiltily.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Ginny," Harry assured her.

"I have a lot to be sorry for," Ginny muttered under her breath, not meaning to be heard but Harry caught every curious word.

"What do you mean?" he questioned.

Ginny´s head shot up quickly, revealing a startled expression that alarmed Harry.

"Oh, nothing," she added quickly dodging more questions. "You´d better get up to the Tower, the whole house will be expecting their hero to show up for his own party."

"Oh, right." Harry blushed, despite himself, at the flattery.

Ginny seemed to calm with the change of subject and smiled at him as she helped him back into his Quidditch robes and congratulated him on an excellent game.

"You coming?" Harry asked as an afterthought as he reached the doors.

"No," was Ginny´s immediate answer. "I think I´ll stay around here and be useful."

Harry left for the Gryffindor common room.

***

As the trend developed again, Ginny had made herself scarce around Ron, Hermione and Harry. Where she went to during mealtimes and various other free hours during the day, Harry couldn´t even venture a guess.

At breakfast on the morning of Halloween and the day of the first chess match, Harry scanned the table, as had been his custom in the week since he´d last talked to her. He couldn´t seem to get her strange words and behavior out of his head and determined that she was up to something. The problem was that when Ginny had a secret, she hid it better than anyone Harry had ever met before. Talking to her was a dead end. She would only run away. Harry decided to leave it alone. Despite his curiosity he felt that if she wanted to tell him, it would have to come in her own time. The last thing he wanted was to push her away.

His reverie was broken up when Ron, seated next to him at the table, spoke, "What are you reading, Hermione?"

As their bushy-haired friend ambled into the Great Hall, distractedly reading the morning´s copy of the Daily Prophet, she jumped at the voice and the question.

"Nothing," she answered, immediately concealing the paper in her school bag. She took a seat across from Harry and Ron, both of whom were staring at her ashen face with concern and curiosity.

"Not another attack," Ron asked in a resigned tone of voice. Tales of mysterious and often very destructive attacks on homes, stores and other public buildings (Muggle as well as not) had littered the paper on a seemingly regular basis since that of the Beckett fire. Harry had felt a stab of guilt at every new story and so, had not picked up the Prophet for nearly two weeks. It was always a constant reminder that danger hung heavy in the air (especially around him).

Hermione shook her head in reassurance, no attacks. That seemed to placate Ron and he looked to be no more interested in it.

"Argh, Seamus!" Dean yelled as he wiped pumpkin juice from his face.

"It almost worked this time," Seamus said staring into his steaming goblet.

"Give it a rest will you," commanded Dean in an agitated tone. "You´re never going to turn that juice into rum. Just spike it, mate, and save us the mess!"

Ron used this distraction to move around to Hermione´s left side where he expertly removed the folded Daily Prophet and flipped it open to the front page. Hermione hadn´t noticed. Whatever Ron had found upon reading the article that she was trying to conceal, he hadn´t expected it. His face displayed a clear expression of shock.

"Engaged?" he breathed, causing Hermione to jump.

"Ron, don´t!" she shouted, causing half the table to stop mid-movement and stare. Harry watched the entire exchange with bewilderment. "How could you?" Hermione appeared horrified and looked around blankly at the curious eyes of dozens of students who stared between her and Ron, awaiting an explanation. They got none.

Hermione, grabbing her bag and the paper from Ron´s clutches, stalked out of the hall. Ron followed shortly after her but turned in the opposite direction she´d taken at the entrance hall.

Automatically all eyes turned to Harry who shrank under the curious stares. He´d no idea what just transpired there in front of half the school but was left with the feeling that he was in for an earful from both sides by the end of the day.

But as the day progressed Ron and Hermione did not speak to each other and, oddly enough, barely spoke to Harry. Harry would have expected this behavior from Ron without the scene in the Great Hall at breakfast. He was due to play Justin at chess tonight. Whatever it was that he´d said or done to Hermione, it served as a distraction from the events that would take place after the traditional feast that evening.

***

"Aren´t you going to eat, Ron?" Ginny implored innocently, looking from her brother to Harry for assistance in the matter. As Ginny scanned the table she added, "Where´s Hermione? She´s going to miss the match." She was silenced from further observation when Harry shook his head, silently signaling to her that that avenue should remain uncanvassed for the moment. Ron pushed his plate away and sat staring at the table.

Hermione did not show during the course of the feast. Ginny kept stealing glances at her silent and brooding brother, convinced that if she just stared long enough he would give up and spill the entire story. He always had with her. He kept nothing from his little sister. If he´d tried, she could always winkle it out of him.

The champions were called up to the front of the hall as the feast commenced. Ron stood up unceremoniously and took his place across from Justin Finch-Fletchley at one of the two ornate chess tables there. Padma Patil and Draco Malfoy seated themselves at the other table.

Harry still hadn´t any idea what had happened that morning at breakfast and why his two best friends were no longer speaking to each other. The situation grew more serious as Hermione was not present for an event that was very important to Ron.

Ron would not speak to anyone, Harry included.

Harry made a desperate pitch around the hall, scanning the room for his bushy-haired friend who, fight or no fight, should be there for Ron. He looked to the doors at the back of the room in time to catch Hermione slipping in undetected by the other students. She moved to a remote corner where she stood to watch the events that transpired at the front with and expressionless face. Even when her eyes met Harry´s momentarily, she did not smile or acknowledge him in any other way.

He contemplated getting up and joining her if she would not come and sit down. He discarded the idea and replaced it with the realization that she didn´t want the attention that he would surely draw to her by coming over. She wanted to watch the match but remain undetected at the same time, leaving an easy out when all was over.

Indeed, Harry´s last thought was confirmed at the end of the match at Ron and Justin´s table shortly after Draco had announced his checkmate over Padma, Ron had done the same to Justin. The first round of the tournament was over, proclaiming Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley as the victors.

Harry watched as Hermione exited the hall as quietly as she had come.

Ron came over to where Harry, Ginny and Neville stood as the students began to clear out of the hall and retreat to their respective common rooms. Harry and Neville congratulated him on a game well played and he received it with an expressionless thanks. Ginny placed a kiss on his cheek and then, grabbing his arm, led him sternly out of the Great Hall and out into the night air that was already beginning to take on the cold chill of late autumn.

Harry was grateful to Ginny for cutting to the chase. He knew without a doubt that she would be able to get to the bottom of whatever it was that had caused the rift between him and Hermione. Harry and Neville climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower to work on an essay for Divination.

***

"Well," Harry asked expectantly as he approached Ginny seated at a far corner table in the library. She looked up from her Charms textbook, wholly unsurprised to see him there.

"Well, what?" she asked, knowing perfectly well what.

Harry sat across from her and stared at her as if to intimidate her into betraying her confidence to her brother. She and Ron had spent nearly three hours out on the Quidditch pitch talking the night before and Harry was curious to know about what. His situation with his two friends had not improved in the slightest and he was growing tired of the silence. He hated being out of the loop, especially where his friends were concerned.

Ginny stared back formidably, all seriousness. "I´m not telling you anything," she added returning her eyes to the open book in front of her. She slid a two-day old copy of the Daily Prophet across the table to Harry. It was the copy that Ron had taken from Hermione. Harry had not expected the headline that he met with upon opening it to the front page.

`Champions of Last Year´s Tri-Wizard Tournament Engaged.´ This was punctuated with a picture of Viktor Krum stupidly glowering up at him, arms wrapped around the elegant Fleur Delacour.

"So that´s what had Hermione so upset," Harry breathed, more to himself than anything else. Ginny looked up from her book.

"Yes. And my dear brother, lacking all subtlety, announced it to nearly half the school," Ginny commented, surprising Harry. She diffused her voice with a monotone of disappointment that Harry had not picked up on the significance of it all.

"You don´t think that´s the reason that she won´t talk to Ron, do you?" Harry asked in typical male fashion, looking over what was blatantly obvious to Ginny.

"I´m guessing that she is upset with Ron for once again being an unfeeling prat. He´s always on her case about something or other, never really seeing her as anything more than someone to best all the time." Harry listened interestedly. Ginny continued. "You can´t have been so blind as to not notice that Hermione is in love with my brother," Ginny asked quietly as Madame Pince passed by that area of the library.

"I knew that he liked her and was jealous of Krum," Harry shrugged, feeling stupider by the minute. "How do you know all of this?" Harry added.

"I watch people," Ginny replied simply and continued, "Hermione is in love with Ron. She gave up Viktor Krum for him. She knew that Ron had a problem with him so she got rid of him." She took a breath, allowing it all to sink in for Harry. It really was exhausting trying to convince someone this naïve, she thought. Ron and Harry were very much alike sometimes.

"Okay, so, Hermione is frustrated with Ron who doesn´t acknowledge all that she´s given up for him, and Ron..." Harry trailed off, hoping that Ginny would fill in the rest for him. She picked up the baton and ran with it.

"Ron is convinced that she still has feelings for Viktor Krum," she replied simply, shrugging her shoulders.

"Did you tell him that´s not true," Harry asked hopefully.

"Not my place, really," she said looking every bit as downtrodden as Hermione had looked lately. "The only way that this will clear up is if they talk to each other," she shrugged again and then added, "honestly."

Harry knew why she had added this last bit. Ron would try his hardest to dodge any situation that required him be honest about his feelings, Harry could sympathize. But, he thought, if anyone could get Ron to admit such an incriminating truth, it would be Hermione.

"Well," he said with a final shrug, "it´s out of our hands. We´ll just have to sit back and take the silent treatment until they both admit the truth."

"Ron might be dumb enough to continue this way, but I´m betting Hermione makes the first move," Ginny said firmly. Harry wouldn´t doubt it. Ginny had always proven to be an infallible judge of character. She tended to be right in situations like this.

Harry had no desire to go back to the common room where he was sure to meet with a sullen and quiet Ron and so opted to stay in the library to work in peace with Ginny.

A week and a half later her prediction in the matter of Ron and Hermione proved itself right.

***

"Ron, I need to talk to you," Hermione said one day as Harry and Ron were walking down the corridor heading to their Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. She took hold of his arm and dragged him in the opposite direction leaving Harry alone in the hallway.

Throughout the remainder of the day Harry could barely concentrate. His two friends had not shown up to the last classes of the day or lunch. It had been a few hours since Hermione had pulled Ron down the hall and up to Gryffindor Tower.

Ginny had shown up for lunch, contrary to her usual custom of skipping meals, and was greeted upon her entry with the news of it all.

Harry seemed worried at the length of their disappearance but Ginny remained unconcerned and insisted that they would be back to their normal selves after all was said and done.

It was precisely as she said.

That night in the common room Harry was met with the oddest sight.

Ron and Hermione sat beside the fire playing chess. Hermione, to Harry´s knowledge, had never taken up the game. She was eagerly nodding as Ron explained the fundamentals of the game to her. Harry had the strange feeling that he´d wandered into the twilight zone. They both looked up and cheerily greeted him as he sat down next to Ron to watch the curious exchange. They appeared at ease with each other like they hadn´t in a long time. They didn´t even seem to acknowledge the fact that they hadn´t spoken to each other two weeks previously.

Harry wouldn´t complain though. If they wanted to live in this strangely serene alternate universe that they´d wandered into, he wouldn´t mind, just so long as he had his two friends back.

***

Nearing the end of November, the first snow had transformed the castle and grounds into an enchanting silver and glittering orb. The school seemed to be deserted from the inside as the students took to spending their free time out of doors.

On closer inspection, Ron and Hermione´s amended friendship began to take on the form of a serious relationship, although neither of them had said so much to Harry.

Harry´s busy schedule of classes, Quidditch practice and studying hadn´t allowed him much time to observe the two of them together, but when he had a chance to do so he was pleased to find them exceedingly happy in each other´s presence. They spent a lot of their time together out on the grounds in such beautiful early winter scenery.

Classes had begun to improve as well. Professor Snape had entered into another long spell of absences. Professor Sprout had taken up his place in teaching, as she was the next most knowledgeable person in the area of potions, having to provide most ingredients for potion making in her field of expertise, Herbology.

As far as the Chess Tournament was coming, Draco and Ron were leading over Justin and Padma. The matches that were played next week were to determine the final two competitors for the Wizards Chess Cup that would take place on the evening of December the Twenty-fifth. Ron was due to play Padma and didn´t seem too concerned about her at all.

The Great Hall was in a buzz of conversation on the second to the last Saturday morning of the month. Slytherin was to play Hufflepuff at Qudditch today. On any day that Slytherin participated in a competition, like Quidditch, they were particularly nasty.

The Hufflepuff House Team was finishing their breakfast amid glares and taunts from their opponents as Mr. Diggory, head of the school´s new security outfit, entered the hall. The team got up collectively and shook hands with the weary looking man. It was a gesture that seemed to say, "No matter the outcome, we´re playing this game as tribute to Cedric." The team, in their yellow and black, exited to the same glaring and quiet mockery of the Slytherin Team.

Harry looked over to see most of the team assembled at their table where Crabbe and Goyle were in the thick of things. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen, but Harry was sure he would have been the ringleader of this disgusting display if he´d been present.

And then he saw her.

A small dark-haired girl, no more than Ginny´s age was sitting a few spaces down from the offending party of Slytherins. What was curious about her, however, was her expression. She looked as if she was on the verge of tears as she stared intently at the table at the head of the hall where Mr. Diggory had just sat down next to Professor Sprout. He stared at his plate for a moment before standing up again and exiting the hall through a side door.

Harry and this Slytherin girl were the only two in the hall who saw the head of Hufflepuff House look after him brokenheartedly and discreetly dab her eyes with her napkin. Harry looked back at the girl who stood silently, tears in her eyes as well, and left the hall.

He marveled at the oddity of a Slytherin who would be sympathetic to Hufflepuff House, still mourning the loss of their hero. Cedric had meant more to Harry than he´d realized previously. He felt that if he could display one third of the courage and honor that Cedric lived everyday with, he would be very lucky indeed.

But this girl, slight, small, plain with chin length raven hair had shown the same sort of response that Harry would have thought a Slytherin incapable of. How was it that she had come to be sorted into the one place a person with that much pity and selflessness would not be welcomed?