Ships: HP/HG, DM/GW, RW/LL, SB/OC/SS

Blaise Zabini is female in this story.

It was a beautiful day out. The clear water-blue sky stretched overhead, untainted by fluffy white clouds or other unnecessary trappings of nature. It was a day that seemed far too calm to exist in a world where darkness stalked the land, leaving death and destruction in its wake. This kind of day was far more suited to careless frolicking in the sunshine and waterfights and picnics.

For several young people who bore far too much responsibility for their age, the magnificently sunny day was a balm to their abraded souls. Voldemort was a distant thing – a mere shadow in the shining light of day. It was on this day, less than a week since Hogwarts let out for the summer, that found Draco Malfoy strolling through Hogsmeade with the easy confidence his family was known for. Even though it was only the beginning of the summer, he was feeling restless. His father was in Azkaban, after having been revealed as an active Death Eater in the battle at the Ministry of Magic a few weeks earlier. It mattered little to him. Draco and his father were never really close. He honestly had no real interest in what happened to the senior Malfoy, having always had a very adversarial relationship with him. Lucius Malfoy felt it was his duty to raise his son to be just like him. He often spoke fondly of the days when Draco would join Voldemort's ranks. Draco could have cared less one way or another. He was willing to join the Dark Lord for the power he offered, but would have been just as willing to find his own way.

The absence of his father created a vacuum in Draco's time that had previously been filled with lessons on how to gain and hold his fortune, power, and influence. He decided to take a vacation for once and do whatever he wanted for the summer. His mother was unhappy with his decision, but he knew she could do nothing. She was busy trying to prove she had nothing to do with the death of her dear cousin, Sirius Black. Draco found it amusing.

He looked around, hoping to find something do to. Pansy was gone for the summer and he was finding himself wanting some female companionship. The movement of bushy, brown hair caught his eye. He smirked. Hermione Granger. The Mudblood. She would provide plenty of entertainment for a short while. He carefully scanned the area for Potter. He had no real desire to deal with him right now. Fortunately, he didn't see the Gryffindor nearby. Still smirking, he headed off to intercept Granger.

"Hello, Mudblood."

"Bugger off, Malfoy!"

"Tut tut. Such language. Would your Muggle parents really approve of your rude behaviour?"

"They would if they knew I was dealing with you. Now get lost, Malfoy."

"Hogsmeade is not the easiest town to get lost in, Granger. Unless Potter is giving directions. He's far more familiar with the Muggle world. Perhaps that's why he likes you so much."

Hermione flushed. "Don't talk about Harry like that, Malfoy!"

"Ooh. Struck a nerve, did I?" He moved closer, looking into her defiant eyes. "Tell me, has Potter ever actually done something with a girl besides make her cry?"

"That's none of your business!"

His smirk got wider. "Ah. I guess not. Or at least, not with you. Granger, why do you waste all your time on Potter when there are men like me out there?"

"Because I'd rather date Fluffy than an arrogant prat like you!"

"Tut tut again, Granger. You don't even know me."

"Like she would want to!"

Draco whirled to see whom the voice belonged to. A girl wearing a white, tight-fitting tank top with extremely short green shorts, sandals, and a loose green and white overshirt stood there, holding out her wand. Her fiery hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and delicate tendrils framed her face. Her entire bearing was confident, and her appearance was that of carefully designed indifference.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy."

Briefly, he was speechless. Who was this girl? Then it hit him. Weasley! She was the youngest Weasley. He was impressed. She had certainly blossomed into quite the young woman. He looked at her admiringly. Suddenly, he could hear his father's voice reminding him of his place.

"What, are you going to make me, Weaselette? I think the Department of Underaged Wizardry might have something to say about that. You're bluffing."

She shrugged, putting her wand away. "Maybe, but I don't need magic to make you regret messing with us."

"Really. And what are you going to do to me if I do?"

Her foot suddenly lashed out, striking his shin. "The next one won't be so low."

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. "You'll pay for that, you little bitch!"

"No, she won't, Malfoy." Draco rolled his eyes as he heard Granger's voice. "Put the wand away and leave. Or you can explain to the Ministry of Magic why you were violating the rules. And why I had to defend my friend. Somehow I doubt your father's influence will get you out of this one."

He frowned at the reminder of his father. "Fine," he snarled, "but you better stay out of my way!"

"As long as you don't accost us outside any more dress boutiques, Malfoy, we will." Ginny smirked at him, her voice sarcastic.

He glanced over at the store they had just exited. Sure enough, it was a dress store. His face darkened in anger. "You'll pay for this, Weasley."

"Oh, I'm so frightened. Hermione, will you please protect me from the incredible bouncing ferret?"

She laughed. "I think I can manage that, Ginny."

Frowning, Draco gave both of them a glare and stalked off.

Both girls watched as Draco Malfoy walked away, limping slightly. Ginny almost felt guilty for kicking him, but then she remembered hearing him call Hermione "Mudblood" and she no longer cared. As they wandered about Hogsmeade, they chatted.

"What was that all about?"

Ginny shook her head. "I have no idea. You'd think he'd have better things to do with his time. Like human sacrifices or something."

"Ginny!"

"What? He's just an evil wanker like his father, destined to wind up mindlessly following Voldemort as one of his Death Eaters. It's pathetic, really. All that money and nothing to do with his time but pick on other people."

Hermione shrugged. "Small people need things to make them feel bigger, I guess. At least, that's what Harry says."

"What Harry says, huh?" Ginny looked closely at her friend. "So has he said anything else profound? Like how much he adores you?"

"Ginny!"

"Oh, like it isn't true! Come on, Hermione. He's got it for you just as badly as you have it for him."

Hermione flushed. "I doubt that. I'm not sure he even sees me as a female."

"He does. You certainly made sure of that at the Yule Ball your fourth year. Believe me. I saw his face when you walked in."

"He didn't even realize it was me!"

"It took him a few seconds, but he did. And boy was he…impressed."

"I'm sure. That's why he spent this past year chasing after Cho Chang."

"Well, I have to point out that he really didn't chase her that terribly hard, and you know things did not end well. Mainly because of you, I must add."

"What?"

"You never heard?" Ginny was surprised. "Hermione, Cho has always blamed you for the fact that she and Harry never got together. I don't think a week went by this past term that she wasn't making some snide comment about you and Harry on Valentine's Day."

"Oh goodness gracious. She's still on about that? It was important!"

"Yes. And Harry never even questioned why he needed to meet you. He just took your word for it and expected Cho to deal with it. I have to say I always wondered about your timing."

"What do you mean?"

"Valentine's Day was the only day you could get Rita Skeeter to come out from under her rock?"

"I…I never really thought about it."

"Obviously. I'm sure Cho did, however."

Hermione frowned. "Oh Ginny, that's terrible! That means it's my fault Harry and Cho didn't work out."

Ginny looked at her friend in disbelief. "Hermione, no! Things didn't work out because she was not what Harry wanted and he would not be what she wanted. I mean, it seemed like the only reason she was interested in hanging out with him was so she could babble about Cedric's death. Which was the last thing Harry wanted to reminisce about."

"Yeah, that was kind of strange. I know she took it hard, but I'm not sure I understand why she wanted to talk with Harry about it all the time. She needed to talk to someone, though. She probably figured he would understand."

"I guess." Ginny paused for a moment, and then looked at her friend slyly. "So what's the deal with you and Viktor?"

Hermione grimaced. "There is no deal with me and Viktor. I stopped writing him right before the end of the year."

"Really? Why?"

"Viktor had a rather large issue with my friendship with Harry, and was always asking these questions about what we were up to. I guess I never really connected it until I realized how I… uh… felt about Harry." She studiously ignored Ginny's knowing nod. "So I told him the long distance relationship thing wasn't working, and asked if we could just be friends." She frowned. "You don't want to know what his last letter said."

Ginny looked at her in disbelief. "You're kidding. He freaked?"

"Oh yes. Ginny, he has a rather interesting temper once you get to know him. He and Cho Chang would probably be perfect for each other."

"At the very least, it would probably satisfy her need to be with someone famous."

Hermione gasped. "You really think that was why she chased after Harry?"

"Definitely. She didn't really seem to like him for who he was, Hermione. What other reason was there? I honestly considered asking him out just to hack her off enough so that she left him alone."

Hermione looked at her in shock.

"What? It would just have been long enough to get her out of his hair."

"I…just wouldn't have thought that of you."

Ginny shrugged. "I'd do a lot to help my friends."

"And hurt your enemies. Why didn't you?"

"I didn't want to hurt Harry. He would not have handled rejection from both Cho and me well. He already has enough relationship issues as it is."

"What relationship issues?"

"Exactly. What relationship? That boy really needs a girlfriend." She eyed Hermione.

"Ginny!"

"What? You sound like you disagree."

"I…he…I think he's fine without a girlfriend." Hermione hated to admit that the idea of Harry being with another girl really bothered her.

"You mean he's fine without a girlfriend other than you," Ginny observed knowingly.

Hermione blushed. "I did not say that!"

"You don't need to, Hermione. I already know how you feel about him. And so do you. Oh! Look at that!"

Ginny stopped abruptly to look longingly in a store window. It was a jewelry store, and in the center window display was a beautiful set of emerald jewelry. The necklace was a long, silver chain, with an oval emerald pendant. It had matching earrings and a bracelet. The advertisement said the pendant could be engraved with any image. The one in the display had a dragon carved into it. "Oh look, Hermione, isn't that beautiful?"

Hermione came over and joined her at the window. "I guess so. You know I'm not big on green. Especially not green and silver."

Ginny pointed to the card. "It comes in any birthstone. You could get a sapphire one."

Hermione snorted. "Right, me and what treasure trove? Come on, Ginny. Let's move on. We can't afford it."

"Maybe not, but we can try one on!" Ginny quickly walked into the store before Hermione could protest. Sighing in resignation, she followed.

The store was one of the finest stores in Hogsmeade. It had rich, oak floors covered in thick red carpets. Display cases were arranged around the room, and a large chandelier hung from the arched ceiling providing light. Everywhere the girls looked they could see the sparkle of silver, gold, and gems.

A middle-aged woman in an impeccable grey suit approached them from up the stairs. She was of medium height, but wore a pair of black high heels making her taller than both girls. Her black hair was laced with silver, and pulled back into a tight bun held in place by a silver comb. Rings decorated her hands, and her face immediately conveyed distaste for her newest customers.

"May I help you?" she asked condescendingly.

Hermione hesitated, but Ginny stepped boldly forward and looked the sales woman in the eye. "Yes, we were interested in taking a closer look at the jewelry set in the window display. The one with the oval pendant."

"I see." She looked down her nose at the Gryffindor. "Are you sure you are in the right store?"

Ginny smiled. Her face was just as condescending as the woman before her. "I assure you, I am exactly where I want to be."

The woman frowned, and then abruptly turned. "Follow me." She led the two girls over to a small table with a mirror. She gestured for them to have a seat, and then stepped behind the counter. "Did you perhaps have a stone preference, Madam?"

Ginny smiled. "I would like to look at the emerald set in the window. My friend would like to see a sapphire one."

The saleswoman stepped in back.

"Ginny!" Hermione whispered. "Are you crazy? We can't afford those!"

The red haired girl shrugged. "So? What's wrong with us trying them on? I want to see what they look like on us."

"But…"

The older woman appeared carrying two small jewelry boxes. She marched over to where the girls sat, and set a green box in front of Ginny and a blue one in front of Hermione. "There you are, my dears. Do you need further assistance? I have a client waiting upstairs."

They shook their heads. "Very well. Once you finish trying the sets on, place them back in the boxes and I will come down and put them away. I must emphasize that they have been magicked against theft."

Ginny gazed at her coldly. "I appreciate the warning, however unnecessary it may be."

The woman swallowed uncomfortably and headed up the stairs.

"I wonder who's up there," said Hermione.

"Probably someone like Malfoy. Too rich to know what to do with themselves."

Hermione snickered. "Okay, let's try these on."

Meanwhile upstairs, while the saleswoman waited on her new customers, Draco Malfoy waited with ill-disguised impatience. When the bell rang announcing a new customer, he had graciously permitted her to run downstairs to meet whoever it was. He put his feet up on her desk and stared off into space, thinking about the events earlier in the day.

His shin still hurt from where Ginny kicked. He involuntarily smiled at the thought. She had really surprised him. He remembered Ginny Weasley as the shy, mousy girl that followed Potter around like a lost puppy. Her innocence was enough to make anyone sick. But now was a different story. She had really grown up to be quite the firebrand. The way her brown eyes flashed with anger while she defended that Mudblood Granger captivated him. He hated to admit that he found her attractive. His skin crawled at the thought of feeling that way about a Weasley. He could almost hear his father admonishing him to remember who he was.

His ears perked at the voices downstairs. They sounded familiar. Moving silently, he crept over to the balcony and looked over, making sure he wasn't seen. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Weasley and Granger were downstairs. What the bloody hell do they think they're doing, he wondered. Neither of them can afford a single thing in this place. He watched while the saleswoman went to the back and brought out two jewelry cases. Draco almost laughed out loud when Ginny told the saleswoman off. She headed back upstairs, but Draco found himself interested in what the two girls were doing. He motioned for her to be silent.

Ginny opened the box and gasped. The necklace was even more beautiful than it looked in the window. She carefully picked it up and placed it around her neck. She put on the earrings and bracelet, and then looked in the mirror. She liked what she saw. Twirling around, she admired her reflection for a few moments. Then reality returned. Her face fell as she realized Hermione was correct. They would never be able to afford the jewelry. She liked the way it looked, however. The pendant she wore had the dragon carving on it, which made her smile in amusement. The encounter with Draco Malfoy was still very fresh in her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, she found him attractive. If he weren't such a git, she would be first in line trying to get his attention. But he's a bloody prat, she thought. Too bad.

Hermione joined her at the mirror. She looked stunning in her set. Ginny smiled. She was planning on telling Harry about the jewelry if Hermione liked it. Harry had told her sometime back that he had a considerable amount of money. He wanted to get her something for her birthday this summer that was not a book. He would love this.

"So, what do you think?"

Ginny's smile grew wider. "You look beautiful, Hermione. Harry would love that, you know."

Hermione blushed. "Ginny! Stop saying stuff like that!"

Ginny laughed. "Oh come on. Like you weren't thinking about it."

The older girl hesitated. "You really think he'd like it?" she whispered shyly.

"Definitely. I think his eyes would bug out like they did at the Yule Ball two years ago."

Hermione's blush grew deeper.

"Come on, Hermione! Admit it. You're in love with the fool!"

"Shh! Don't say that! Someone might hear you!"

"Oh, like the Ice Queen upstairs?" Hermione glared at her. "Okay, fine, fine, I'll stop. Oh, so what do you think?"

"It looks like you were born to wear that, Ginny."

She laughed. "Yeah. A Weasley born to wear emeralds." She sighed. "Come on! This place is boring. Let's go get some chocolate!"

The two girls quickly replaced the jewelry and closed the boxes. They glanced upstairs, causing Draco to quickly duck into the shadows. Not seeing anyone, they made sure the boxes were safely on one of the counters and left.

Draco moved back out into the room and eyed the saleswoman cowering near the stairs.

"Your other guests have left, Lucille. The merchandise is on the counter. You can go put it away if you wish." He made sure his voice was cold and emotionless.

She nodded, turning to head downstairs. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

Impulsively, he stopped her. "Lucille, those jewelry sets are one of a kind, are they not?"

"Each is uniquely made, Mr. Malfoy. But we have five sets of each birthstone."

"How many of the emerald and sapphire do you have left?"

"I believe there are 3 emerald, but that was the last sapphire."

He nodded. "Good. I will take both sets."

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy." She hesitated. "Did you want a specific carving on the sets, sir?"

"What is on them now?"

"The sapphire one is blank, but the emerald one the girl tried on has a dragon on it."

He smirked. "Perfect."

Draco wasn't completely sure what he was going to do with the two sets, but he figured he could use them at some point. Perhaps to get Potter to do something for him. Or Weasley. He could definitely get Weasley to do something for him. He had seen how much she wanted the jewelry. Even he had to admit it looked stunning on her. And Potter would do anything for the Mudblood, despite the fact he wouldn't admit it.

Lucille returned with the two sets, and Draco paid for them after completing the business that originally brought him to the store. Satisfied, he left, idly wondering if he was going to see the girls any more today.

Ginny and Hermione headed upstairs to the youngest Weasley's room after their return from Hogsmeade. Both girls had managed to find a few things to purchase, and wanted to go upstairs and try them on while they chatted about 'girl stuff.' Hermione was always amazed at her friend's room. She was the only Weasley with a room to herself and took great pleasure in enjoying the space. It was a very feminine room, overwhelmingly pink with lots of frilly decorations. Ginny's mother had chosen the decorations years ago – Ginny sometimes wished for something else – but she admitted the color scheme was a small price to pay for her privacy. Pink guaranteed the boys would never steal her covers or pillows.

The girls set their packages by the door and dropped exhaustedly onto the bed. The two Gryffindors stared into space for a few minutes before Ginny decided to break the silence and continue their conversation.

"So as I was saying, I have no doubt in my mind that he likes you. Bloody hell, Hermione, he loves you. I don't understand what the problem is!"

"How can you say he loves me, Ginny?" Hermione sat up, glaring at her friend in exasperation. "He spent all bloody last year chasing after Cho Chang! He was practically worshiping the ground she walked on! How is it possible to infer that he loves me?"

"That's easy, Hermione. He put you first. Above Cho. You know, the girl he was dating? Perhaps I should again remind again you of Valentine's Day. Besides, you spent the year writing Viktor yet you still love him! What's the difference?"

"There's a huge difference! And I really don't need to be reminded about Valentine's Day. I already feel bad enough as it is! I never meant to come between them…"

"Are you sure?"

Ginny's soft words took a moment to penetrate into Hermione's conscious. "Wha…what do you mean?"

"I mean, Hermione, are you sure you didn't choose the date on purpose?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment as she considered. Finally, she sighed, bowing her head in defeat. "I… maybe I did. I guess I just… didn't like the idea of Harry and Cho…"

Ginny took her hand. "Hermione. I understand. Believe me. I didn't like the idea of Harry and Cho, and I've been over him for years."

"You sure about that?"

"Absolutely. Harry is like a brother to me now. He and I just weren't meant to be anything else. You and Harry, on the other hand…" Ginny stood up and went to the window. "The thing is, Hermione, the time is rapidly approaching when you will need to make a choice of what you are going to do about your feelings for him. I chose to let go, but I wasn't in love with him. It was a crush – strong, but a crush nonetheless. What you feel for him is different. You love him." She turned to look at her friend. "Are you going to let him go, and watch as he moves on to be with someone else? No? I didn't think so. The look on your face tells me everything I need to know. You want to be with him, and I sure as hell know he wants to be with you. So get it together and tell him how you feel!"

Hermione shook her head. "It's not that easy, Ginny. I value my friendship with him more than anything. I have no desire to risk losing it." She held up her hand for silence. "No, Ginny, let me finish. Yes, I love him, but I can't face the idea that I will lose him if things don't work out between us. Can you imagine what it would be like to get together with him only to lose him completely after some major fight?"

The red haired girl looked at Hermione skeptically. "Oh, yeah. That's going to happen. Bloody hell, Hermione! This is not Ron we're talking about. It's Harry! You know, Harry Never-gets-pissed-off-unless-someone-dies Potter? I can't possibly imagine a world where you and Harry have some horrible fight that destroys your relationship forever. You are far more likely to get into one of those with my brother!"

"True." The dark-haired Gryffindor sighed. "But what about how it will affect our friendship? Things will become uncomfortable. We'll no longer be just Harry and Hermione, friends. Instead we'll be boyfriend and girlfriend. With all the awkward things that go along with it. A single word could destroy anything! Is it really worth the risk?"

"Yes." Ginny caught Hermione's eyes and looked at her very seriously. "Yes, Hermione, it's worth it. Love is worth any risk. It is the greatest experience a person could ever have and if you get the chance you should not let it pass you by!" She was silent for a moment, and then her eyes widened as comprehension dawned. "You're afraid! Aren't you? You're afraid of the risk. You're afraid of being hurt. That Harry will not return your affection or will lose interest…"

Hermione stood up and walked over to the window. "Of course I am, Ginny! How could I not be? He's Harry Bloody Potter. The Boy Who Lived! Saviour of the Wizarding world! He can have any girl he could possibly want. Why would he want to be with plain old Hermione Granger? And even if he does care for me, how can I expect him to do so forever? Ginny, there are only so many girls at Hogwarts. Once we graduate, he'll be meeting women as beautiful as Cho Chang who are also good at magic like I am. How can I compete with that?"

Ginny spoke softly. "You sell yourself short. He sees you through the eyes of love, Hermione. That makes you the most beautiful woman in the world to him. Do you honestly think he'll just tell you to bugger off while he goes and shacks up with Miss Beautiful? I thought you knew him better than that! Harry would never do that. Especially to you."

The room was silent for a moment as both girls were lost in thought.

"I know he wouldn't, Ginny, but I also know that he doesn't see me as anything more than a friend. Why is it that just because a girl happens to have a male best friend they are suddenly dating? Yes, I like Harry. Hell, I love him. But I'm not going to be the one to risk our friendship on a dream that every bloody girl in the Wizarding world has had since our first year. What we have is far better than a fleeting wish for something more." She looked over at Ginny, her expression very serious. "Ginny, if I thought there was a chance we would last, I would write a letter right now and tell Harry how I feel. But I see how he looks at me. It's the same way he looks at you. As a friend." She smiled sadly. "I wish things could be different, but they're not. And I for one am not going to spend my life regretting it." Hermione sat down and picked up one of the books she had purchased in Hogsmeade, signifying that the conversation was at an end.

"That's where you're wrong, Hermione. You will spend your life regretting it," Ginny said softly. "Both of you will. Bloody idiots."

Ginny gazed at her for a moment, and then picked up a book herself. She stared off into space, not really seeing the pages, and thought. She decided that Hermione was not going to do anything about her feelings for Harry, so the next step was to get Harry to tell Hermione how he felt. The young Gryffindor mused that he would be a much harder nut to crack. He had many reasons for not showing his feelings, and Ginny got the feeling that some of them had to do with the battle in the Ministry of Magic at the end of last year. Sirius' death probably emphasized to Harry how people near him were in danger. There was no way he would risk putting Hermione in danger. She felt like screaming in frustration. Neither of them seemed particularly promising as far as the situation was concerned. She'd ask Ron to help but she was fully well aware of his feelings for Hermione. He wasn't in love with her, but he thought he was. It's a good thing she's going away to France for a few weeks, she thought. Maybe I can get some things cleared up before she comes to stay with us for the rest of the summer.

Satisfied she had at least a partial plan for helping the situation, she turned her attention back to her book.

A week after Hermione left for France, Harry Potter found himself gazing wistfully out the window. It was a beautiful day for a change, blue sky with a few fluffy white clouds propelled across the sky by a slight breeze. The day called to him, whispering that he should take advantage of his gift of freedom. He knew he was free to go outside, but it was still something he was struggling to get used to. Ever since Alastor Moody and the others stood up to Vernon for him, he had been given more freedom than any previous summer. He and Dudley called a truce, since the Muggle boy was afraid of Harry's benefactors, and both had gone their separate directions all summer. Unfortunately, thanks to the Dursleys, Harry's new-found liberty was meaningless since no one in the neighborhood would associate with him. The only person that had not been informed of his misbehaviour was the new lady across the street.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had a number of speculations about the woman, most of them involving a career that required a great deal of travel. Petunia tried to visit her shortly after he returned to Hogwarts last year only to find her already gone. Dudley took the opportunity to investigate her backyard and found what he described as "tonnes" of rose bushes and a porch swing. The curtains were drawn so he couldn't see in, but that didn't stop him from speculating about her. Harry brushed it off as unimportant, thinking that anything occupying his cousin besides him was a good thing.

Now he was back at the Dursleys and found himself wondering if there was finally someone in the neighborhood he could talk with. Mrs. Figg was off on some mysterious errand for the Order and was not around for him to visit. He wondered who was taking care of her cats.

"Harry?" The ring on his hand buzzed as Hermione's voice sounded in his head.

"What is it, 'Mione?"

"What are you up to? Is everything okay? I hope those horrible people are leaving you alone this summer!"

He grinned. That was his Hermione. Ever the worry-wart. "Okay, let me see if I can answer these in order… I'm looking out the window wishing I had someone to chat with. Everything is fine, if a bit lonely, and yes, the Dursleys are leaving me alone. Uncle Vernon and Dudley have been avoiding me as much as possible for the past week. How's Paris?"

"Oh it's wonderful, Harry! Mum and dad are letting me stay with my cousin Veronica. She's been taking me to all the stores she frequents. Oh Merlin, does that girl like to shop! I got a few nice things for myself, though. If we have a ball next year, I'll be prepared."

Harry felt a smile on his face at the thought of Hermione dressed up. He remembered how beautiful she was their fourth year. By the stars was he an idiot. "Does this mean that the infamous know-it-all of Hogwarts has discovered her feminine side? Merlin forbid!"

"Harry James Potter! I'm quite in touch with my feminine side, thank you very much! I just have different priorities at school. I'm not Lavender Brown."

"I know, 'Mione. I was just teasing. I'm sorry."

She sighed. "That's okay, Harry. I know it's hard for you and Ron to see me as anything but your best friend. So why aren't you outside or something? Is it raining?"

"No. I just don't feel like walking around and watching the curtains close as I pass the houses. Everyone on this bloody block is completely convinced I'm some sort of criminal."

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! Well, if it makes you feel better, Ginny mentioned that they'd be coming to get you soon. I'll be in France until the end of the month, but I will be back in time for your birthday."

He didn't try to stop the grin that came to his face. "That'll be great, 'Mione! Then you, me, Ron, and Ginny can all hang out at the Burrow for the rest of the summer!"

"Until then, Harry, you should get out some. Didn't you mention you got a new neighbor last year?"

"Yeah. No one knows who she is. She left before Aunt Petunia got the chance to corner her and tell her the dark and sordid tales of my life."

"Harry!"

"It's true, 'Mione. She was drooling at the opportunity to tell someone else about my criminal background. That and I think Uncle Vernon wanted to invite her over to impress her with the immensity of the house."

"Why would he want to do that?"

"I don't know. It's a status thing or something. You know how he's been since he got that promotion last year."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me about that. You should go talk to her. Get to her before your Aunt does. Who knows, maybe she's like Mrs. Figg."

"Maybe."

"Oh! Well, Harry, I have to go. Pierre is back and we're going to some place called Magie de Danse. I think it's some sort of wizard dance club. I'll tell you all about later, Harry. Au revoir mon chéri."

Harry glared at his ring as the connection was cut. Where was she going? Mag-what du dance? Bloody hell. He really needed to learn some French. Who was Pierre? And why was he taking Hermione dancing? In Paris. The city of love.

Oh dear Merlin.

The surge of jealousy he felt at the thought was almost overpowering. How could she go dancing with some other guy? What about him? Didn't she care about how he felt? How he felt. How did he feel? His emotions roiled within him, uncertainty clashing with an unknown emotion. The flickering of the lights in his room reflected the chaos in his head. Flickering lights? That caught his attention and he looked around curiously. What the hell? The lights returned to normal, but Uncle Vernon's voice could be heard downstairs, cursing the electric company. Aunt Petunia was in the background screeching about her soufflé. He shook his head. It was daylight. The only one he had even a minor bit of sympathy for was his Aunt, who no doubt had spent the past few hours trying to make the perfect soufflé. Uncle Vernon could read his bloody paper near a window. Bloody hell. He really did need to get out of the house. He thought back to Hermione's suggestion. Perhaps she was right. How bad could it be anyway? If she hated him, he'd be no worse off than he was now.

There was little known about the mysterious woman across the street. She had moved in at the end of his fourth year, but was very reclusive. Harry had seen her briefly working in her garden on a few occasions, but had not gotten a good look at her. He knew she had dark hair, but nothing more specific. Almost overnight nearly a dozen rosebushes had sprung up in the front yard and the lawn took on a very well-cared-for appearance. So much so that Uncle Vernon had him out trimming the grass the next day. Despite all her gardening habits, however, it seemed she spent a great deal of time indoors. He imagined she was doing something very important. Perhaps she was a writer. Aunt Petunia had hoped to meet her and warned him against any disturbances. Uncle Vernon was far more specific. He threatened to throw Harry out onto the street should he bring unwanted attention to himself even once during the summer.

After Moody came and rescued him from the Dursleys after the Dementor incident, he had ceased to think of her. According to his aunt, she stayed for the rest of the summer then closed up the house for the duration of the year. No one knew where she went, but she had returned by the time Harry got back from Hogwarts. Petunia was determined to make her acquaintance before she left again.

He was curious enough to want to meet her, and had no desire to listen to the Dursleys regale yet another neighbor with tales of his years at St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. It was bad enough the rest of the neighborhood thought he was a hoodlum. He didn't want the next occupant of the house across the street being driven away by his Uncle's lies. Perhaps he might be able to mention something to Arthur Weasley the next time he called.

Harry sighed as he absently played with a feather Hedwig shed this morning. They all tried so hard to make him feel better, but the reality was that no one really could. The knowledge that he was responsible for his godfather's death weighed heavily upon him and no one could really comfort him about that. Hermione tried before she left, but he just couldn't talk about it. Now everyone just left him alone and he honestly preferred it that way. He really didn't want to think about the death of his godfather or the responsibility placed upon him by the bloody prophecy. None of them could ever understand what it meant. Not even his best friends.

Motion caught his eye as the front door of the neighboring house opened and a young woman stepped out into the sun. It appeared he was finally going to get a good look at his mysterious neighbor. Her dark hair shined in the bright light, making it look as if a thousand stars sparkled within its midnight depths. The long mass was gathered in a single tail reaching halfway down her back, and he could see the glitter of gold at the nape of her neck where it was bound. She wore blue jeans and a ruffled violet blouse under a vest embroidered with small blue flowers. Her ivory skin indicated to him that he was right about her being a bit of an indoor type, but the pail of gardening tools she brought with her argued otherwise. Her eyes did a quick scan of the area, stopping briefly on the Dursleys house before continuing down the block. Harry was surprised when her amethyst eyes met his. They were a startling shade of violet, similar to the color of her blouse, and seemed to hold within their depths great wisdom and intellect, overlaid by a sense of joy and wonder. For the first time in weeks, he felt himself cheering up and decided to go down and introduce himself.

Ryselle Spellsinger stepped out into the sunlight feeling happy to be home at last. The past year had been hectic with all the tasks her grandfather set her, but it was worth it to finally be finished with her training. Now she was ready to join the Ministry. She purchased the house last year in preparation for it, after Albus Dumbledore suggested she might find the neighborhood to her liking. She was glad she did. It was a small house – robin's egg blue siding with white accents surrounded by a post stamp yard – but it was hers. The garden in front, one of the reasons she decided to live there, needed a great deal of work to help it recover from almost a year of neglect. She didn't even want to think about the time it would take her to repair her rose bushes. She smiled wryly at the idea of her spending the day trimming roses instead of unpacking the boxes piled in her extra bedroom. It had been in disarray for about a year now, but the traveling she had done was necessary to the completion of her training. Now that she was done, she would have a lot more time to unpack. And to make repairs to the rosebushes. Priorities, she thought, grandfather always says I need to have priorities. Carrying the pail of garden tools over to the first bush near the house, Ryselle reflected that the next few months were going to be very interesting.

Last summer, her grandfather's old friend Albus Dumbledore showed up on their doorstep with the request that Ryselle come back to England with him for a few months. He had no idea that she had already been making plans to move to England to join the Ministry of Magic as an Auror, but was delighted when he found out. She remembered Dumbledore fondly as a cheery wizard who always gave her candy. He was like an uncle to her, along with several of her grandfather's other friends. She was nine years old the last time she saw him, and kept him in her mind during the years she was with her grandfather. Part of her always wished he would come back and entertain her with more stories of his youth. As she grew up, she thought of him with fondness and made plans to look him up when she got to England. When he requested that she alter her plans a bit to look after Harry Potter for the summer, there was no reason for her to say no and every reason for her to agree. She wanted to fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. What better way to begin that by guarding his archenemy?

She agreed, with the condition that she be free to complete the final phase of her training after Harry went away to school. It had been an odd summer, culminating with the attack upon Harry by a Dementor, and her introduction to Sirius Black.

She felt a tearing pain in her heart at the thought of him. Last year they had met while she was taking her turn as Harry's guardian for the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore had not officially made her a member, since she had yet to be free to commit herself to a cause, but planned on doing so once she was available. He informed her that she might see a large, black dog lurking about the property and assured her that it was only Harry's godfather, the notorious criminal Sirius Black, who was no more responsible for the deaths of Harry's parents than she was. She was interested in the story behind his statement, but was given no further information.

That was probably why she decided to go meet him after the second time she saw him at the Dursley's. She wanted to take the measure of the man the Ministry accused of being in league with Voldemort and was supposedly responsible for one of the worst Muggle killings in history.

Ryselle savagely clipped off a branch at the thought of the evil wizard. There was no way he was going to get past her and to Harry or those relatives of his. She swore to protect him and she would. That was one of the reasons she decided to buy this house when she saw it was up for sale. It was perfect. Right across the street from the Dursleys, it would enable her to watch what was going on and make sure Harry remained safe and hidden from the eyes of Voldemort's servants. Dumbedore suspected he had eyes all over the Wizarding world, including in the Ministry, so no one he did not trust found out about Harry's location. Ryselle was glad he trusted her.

A shadow crossed her vision as someone approached the fence. She shaded her eyes and looked up. To her surprise, she recognized the young man as Harry Potter himself. He looked a bit uncertain, and perhaps slightly afraid of the reception he would get from her. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jean shorts, which were torn in places and well-worn. Messy dark hair fell into eyes that gazed at her, owl like, from behind his round spectacles. He wore a white t-shirt and tattered running shoes. Except for the depressed slump of his shoulders, Ryselle would have thought him simply a young Muggle man out for a summer walk during the school break.

He stopped near the fence and studied her for a moment. "You might want to wear a hat." His voice was hesitant, as if he expected some sort of rejection.

Her lips curved into a friendly smile. "You are no doubt correct. I am not used to being out in the open like this. I am afraid I left it inside." She stood up, holding out her hand. "Ryselle Spellsinger. Your neighbor."

He returned the smile, thinking her musical voice was well suited to the exotic accent. "Harry Potter, ma'am. Pleased to meet you." Her grip was firm but gentle.

"Please, call me Ryselle. I do not believe I have the age to qualify for ma'am yet."

Taking in her appearance with a glance, Harry silently agreed with her. She was younger than he originally thought. He would estimate her age about the same as Ron's brother Charlie. "Well then, Ryselle, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you, Harry. I was hoping to meet someone today. I've been here for a year and have yet to see anyone. Are they always so…antisocial?"

He chuckled. "Aunt Petunia will probably be over with a fruitcake sometime within the next few days. She's been waiting for an appropriate time. She came over at the end of last summer, but there was no one home."

"Ah, yes, she must have just missed me. I had some traveling to do. I spent most of the year in hotels and with friends. It was well worth it, however." Her eyes twinkled with merriment.

"Do you sell things?"

"What? Oh! No, Harry. I do not sell things. I was studying for the last phase of my wizard training. My master wanted me to explore the magical places of Europe and discover the truth of their secrets."

Harry was surprised to find she was a witch, and then her unusual last name registered. How could she be anything else? "Wow. That must have been interesting. You were in school then?"

She shook her head. "No, I did not go to a school. My grandfather taught me magic."

"Why did you call him master?"

"Tradition. He is a bit of an old fashioned wizard."

Harry sat down next to her and watched while she worked with her roses. "You know, it's nice to have a Wizarding neighbor here. Almost everyone else is a Muggle. Not that it's a bad thing, but sometimes it's nice to have someone to relate to."

Ryselle chuckled. "I imagine so. Well, Harry, you can feel free to come over to discuss magic any time you want. As a matter of fact, would you like to come in for a glass of lemonade? The lack of a hat has made me parched with thirst."

He hesitated for a moment, considering. When had the Dursley's ever been concerned about his whereabouts? Ryselle seemed nice, and she wasn't sporting the Dark Mark on her left arm ,so it was doubtful she was a threat to him. Dumbledore swore he would be safe with his Aunt and Uncle. He had to believe that or he would go insane. Plastering a grin on his face, he nodded.

"I'd love to."

Once inside the small house, it took Harry's eyes a moment to adjust to the change in light. The house was dim, but he could see the interior was a warm, friendly place appearing to have two bedrooms accessible by a short hallway off the living area. The kitchen was very small as well, having room for a single person. It opened up into a dining alcove surrounded by a large bay window.

He noticed Ryselle's taste in décor was eclectic. Bookshelves lined the walls of the living room, where a single sofa, chair, and loveseat rested on a large Persian carpet. The end tables and coffee table were a warm oak decorated with small golden lamps shaped like dragons. A fireplace was set into the far wall, and the shelf above it held several figurines of dragons, wizards, and a castle. A gilded mirror hung above it. The room was neat, and the only thing appearing out of place was a book lying in the chair. A single door was in the back wall, leading to the back yard, guessed Harry.

The first bedroom was full of boxes crammed together leaving only a short path to the door. It appeared as if she were in the midst of assembling another bookshelf on one side of the room. There was furniture underneath the boxes, fresh from the store if the plastic was any indication. The house was small – quite a bit smaller than the Dursley's, which always gave Uncle Vernon a thrill – but cozy. She had already laid another oriental rug on the floor of the room. He couldn't make out the design underneath all the boxes, but it appeared to be a simple one done in several shades of red, blue, and violet. He guessed it was similar to the one in the living room. Down the short hallway was the master bedroom, which he guessed was the most complete room of the house outside the kitchen and bathroom. There was an oriental rug there too, and he saw the flash of a maroon comforter on the four-post bed.

Harry followed his host into the small kitchen, where he could see several gleaming Muggle appliances already set on the counters for easy cooking. She had a microwave, blender, and toaster visible, plus assorted containers for staples such as sugar and flour. A large spice rack hung on the wall over the stove, and appeared to be full of freshly prepared spices labeled in a fine hand. He wondered if she preserved them herself.

There was small breakfast nook with a round, maple wood table and four chairs in front of the bay window across from the Dursley's house. He saw Dudley saunter out the door with a satisfied smirk on his face, then turn to join the rest of his gang. Harry had a bad feeling he was in for a hard time when he went back to the Dursleys. Whenever his cousin was happy, it boded ill for him. Ryselle gestured for him to have a seat while she prepared fresh lemonade for the two of them. He had to fight back tears at the thought of his godfather reminiscing about his mother's lemonade.

Ryselle watched Harry out of the corner of her eye and felt a surge of sadness when she saw the curious look on his face turn to grief. He must be thinking about his godfather. She knew how he felt. Sirius' death affected her far more than she ever imagined. It never occurred to her she would not have the chance to tell him how she felt. She hated herself for hiding her feelings from him and losing the opportunity to be with him for even a short while. Her heart bled for the young man and his godfather and for the time they would never have together. She hoped she might be of some help to him this summer.

She suppressed the impulse to use magic to transport the lemonade to the table, keeping in mind Dumbledore's admonition that she keep her magical usage to a minimum, and chose instead to carry the two glasses after placing the pitcher in the refrigerator. Harry started as he set the glass in front of him.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

He savagely bit down on the emotions surging within him, determined to enjoy this summer and the company of the nice lady in front of him. "I…uh…I'm fine. Sorry. Just…thinking about something."

Since he looked like he was not ready to talk about it, Ryselle held her peace and turned the topic to more harmless matters. The day passed easily into evening before they knew it. Harry felt his stomach growl and was startled to see it was near sunset. The time had passed quickly in the company of his new neighbor, and he found himself reluctant to return to the Dursleys. He knew they would not have a great deal of concern for his whereabouts, but would not appreciate the inconvenience of his coming in late without dinner. He had little choice in the matter, however, and was determined not to regret the first day of enjoyment he experienced in months.

He stood up. "I need to get home, Ryselle, but I really appreciate the opportunity to come over and talk."

"Thank you for coming over, Harry. I enjoyed it." She thought for a moment. "I imagine your family has already eaten dinner. I should have thought of that earlier. Would you like me to make you something to take home?"

He was smiling before he realized it. "That would…be very nice, Ryselle. I know my Aunt will be glad I've eaten." Not to mention the fact that the food will be much better, he thought.

She quickly fixed two sandwiches for him and put them in a bag with potato chips and a large biscuit for him to take back. He grinned appreciatively at the biscuit, and waved farewell before he could find another excuse to stay. The summer was shaping up to be a lot better than he expected. Hermione would be glad to hear it.

Ryselle watched as Harry made his way back to the house and stopped watching him only after he was inside. She hoped he didn't notice the small dribble of Tracing Potion she put on his sandwiches. Her instincts told her she would need it sometime in the future, and she always trusted them.

Satisfied she made a friend out of the young man, she set out to begin unpacking and putting the house in order. She hoped he would come over again. He was everything Sirius had said and more. It was obvious to her he did not enjoy being over at his Aunt and Uncle's place, so she was determined to offer him refuge whenever he needed it. It was the least she could do for the godson of the man she loved.