It was one of the last days of lingering summertime warmth at Hogwarts, and Harry was enjoying it under the tree where his father had sat with his friends so long ago, playing with a snitch and making eyes at the girls by the lake. Today the only people at the lake were Slytherins, Draco and his friends, but even they seemed to have caught a bit of the sun's benevolence. Besides for a few sneers and taunting remarks earlier in the afternoon, they had, for the most part, ignored Harry and his friends.
They had brought sort of a picnic from the kitchens earlier, and come out here to eat it, ignoring the usual lunchtime, and ate together, laughing and joking— they being Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna. It seemed as if the six from the D.A. who had braved the dark corridors of the Department of Mysteries on that painful day months ago gravitated toward each other these days, often without prior arrangement. Nobody commented on it, but Harry knew that the others noticed as well as he did the small coincidences that often stuck them together. A meeting in a hallway; a teacher holding a few of them after class just in time to meet the ones arriving for the next lesson; it seemed as if wherever they went they encountered each other. There was something he liked about it, the fact that they had all been there that night. Harry was glad that they all knew what had transpired, grateful that they needed no painful answers from him, and infinitely thankful he didn't have to tell them what was troubling him on those increasingly frequent days when he wanted to withdraw from the world, for they were all troubled as well.
Today, the group sat comfortably together, lapsing from conversation into easy silence, not needing to talk to be together. Neville was sitting on the end of the line, leaning against the tree trunk and affectionately stroking his Mimbulis Mimbletonia. Hermione sat next to him, reading a lengthy book about elf rights. Every so often, she would look up to Neville or Luna, who was sitting to her right, reading the Quibbler, in order to tell them about some unfair piece of legislation passed 500 years ago. Ron was to Luna's right, polishing his broomstick and occasionally joining in the conversations and jokes on either side. Harry was sitting between Ron and Ginny, who was lying back on the grass, talking about the soccer game that Dean had taken her to over the summer.
"It's not as boring as I thought it'd be, being played all on foot," she told Harry as she lazily tore apart a blade of grass, "and some of the strategies were interesting." She sat up, and looked at Harry. "I wonder if we could use some of what they did in Quidditch?"
Harry shrugged. He saw a movement in his peripheral vision and vaguely connected it with the sound of rustling paper. "Depends on what they were doing."
Ginny nodded, as if thinking about this, then craned her neck beyond Harry to look at Ron. "What do you think, Ron?"
Harry turned his head as well, and everything seemed to slow down. Ron was sitting, broomstick in his lap, eyes closed, and Luna was looking at him steadily, Quibbler on the ground. Ron opened his mouth to reply, but before his lips could do anything more than form the silent letter W, Luna leaned toward him and kissed him full on the mouth. Harry watched with the manner of someone who's just seen a car crash and can't tear their eyes away as Ron's eyes sprung open and widened. He seemed unable to do anything. Harry was almost sure that Ron would do something, anything to stop Luna, but he did not move. In some part of his brain Harry was aware that not only were Hermione and Neville watching in shock, but the Slytherins beyond them seemed to have chosen a rather unfortunate time to look in their direction as well. They were making noises, jeering perhaps, but Harry couldn't fully hear them. The seconds as Luna continued to kiss Ron moved slowly, and Harry was resolved that if Ron didn't push her away soon, he would do it himself, if only to keep Ron from suffocating. Then suddenly, as if she had just leaned in to brush an insect off of Ron's forehead, Luna withdrew, and the world stopped swimming. Ron looked absolutely shell shocked. He was bright red and his mouth was still a bit agape.
Harry became uncomfortably aware of the laughter and catcalls coming from the Slytherins as Luna stood up and said seriously, her eyes still on Ron, "I like you, Ronald Weasley, but you've never kissed anyone before, have you?" She then bent to pick up her Quibbler, and walked away from them, right past Draco Malfoy, who, at this last comment, stood in a state of sort of blissful shock as if all of his wildest dreams had come true.
Ginny's laughter broke the silence first; she shook violently, gripping Harry's knee so she wouldn't fall over. She was followed by Neville, who laughed nervously at first, as though not sure how he was supposed to react. Harry, despite himself, joined in their laughter, which was soon supplemented by Hermione's rare laughter as well.
Harry was the first to notice as Ron turned away from him, facing Hermione, Neville, and the hysterical Slytherins behind them. His best friend's back was stiff as if his spine had suddenly been replaced with steel, but his whole body was shaking with shock. At first glance, he looked as if he was watching Luna retreat, but Harry soon realized that he was facing Hermione, who, upon catching sight of Ron's face, abruptly stopped laughing, her face rearranging itself first into an expression of concern, and then one of fright. Harry felt his laughter die in his throat as he realized what Ron's face must look like if this was Hermione's reaction. Ron was shaking with fury, not shock, and Hermione was going to feel the brunt of his seldom shown but always hot and irrational anger.
"You think it's funny?" Ron erupted, and the others' laughter stopped as quickly as it had come. Even the Slytherins has gone quiet, if only to listen.
"Well, n-no," Hermione said, eyes widening. "It's just that—"
"You think it's funny," Ron raged, cutting her off. "You think it's funny what she did to me? You think I wanted her to kiss me? Luna— no, Loony Lovegood," he added, spitting the word Loony hatefully. Ginny made as sound of protest, but Ron ignored her.
"Ron, p-please," Hermione said, her voice quavering as if she was about to cry.
"Ron, calm down, mate," Harry said firmly, putting a hand on Ron's shoulder.
Ron turned briefly to Harry, his face contorted with anger. "You stay out of this," he snarled, shaking Harry's hand off violently. He turned back to Hermione. "What would you think if someone did that to you?" he said angrily, and Harry noticed him leaning over Neville toward Hermione, who looked as if she were about to cry. In a flash, Harry realized what Ron was going to do, and a glance at Hermione revealed that she had figured it out as well. She screwed her eyes shut, and squared her shoulders as if bracing herself.
Harry lunged for Ron, but his fingers only glanced Ron's shoulder; he was already too far away. He heard Ginny yell something beside him, but his own thoughts drowned her out. Stupid Ron, just laugh it off, stupid, stupid, the Slytherins will never forget this. Hermione won't either, even if she does forgive. Don't be such an idiot. Harry glanced hopelessly at Hermione, who was frozen in place. He shut his eyes. He didn't want to see this...
BANG.
"DON'T— TOUCH— HER!"
Harry opened his eyes to see Ron on the ground, breathing rapidly as if he'd had the wind knocked from him. Standing above him was Neville, wand outstretched. Neville was standing bolt upright, emanating fury. Harry was reminded of the way Dumbledore had looked in his fourth year when he had burst through the door of Moody's office to catch Barty Crouch about to kill Harry. Harry was not sure what spell Neville had used on Ron; perhaps he had used none and had performed magic purely out of anger, like the time Harry had blown up his Aunt Marge.
Hermione was looking up at Neville with something akin to amazement, and the Slytherins by the lake appeared equally shocked. Harry broke the silence. "Ron," he said, getting to his feet, "let me help you up, mate." He held out his hand, and to his surprise, Ron took it. With a bit of effort, Harry pulled Ron up, and for a second, they stood facing each other. Ron's face was blank with shock. Before he could say anything to him, Ron turned to face Neville, who was still clutching his wand. Ron began to walk in Hermione's direction.
"Ron, don't!" Ginny cried in an anguished voice.
Ron turned slowly around to face them, his face still blank. He turned back around, and walked right past Hermione in the direction of the castle. He had almost reached the jeering Slytherins when he turned around again, wand outstretched this time.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Neville shouted, and Ron's wand zoomed toward him. He caught it neatly.
Ron briefly held his hands up, as if in surrender. "I forgot my broom," he said numbly. Harry looked down to where Ron had been sitting. His broom, lovingly polished, was lying on the grass where it had fallen when Ron reached for Hermione.
"Right then," Neville said, pointing his wand at it to send it to Ron. "Deletri—"
"Neville, no," Harry interrupted quietly, and Neville let his arm fall as Harry bent to pick up the broomstick. "I'll take it, and the wand too." Neville slowly handed Harry Ron's wand, and Harry walked to where Ron was standing. He gently gave Ron his broom and wand.
"I'll— I'll see you at dinner, okay?" Harry said quietly.
"I guess," Ron said dully. "I don't know— I don't know what..." He trailed off, and gave a last glance at Ginny, Neville, and Hermione, who were all standing by now. Harry saw that Neville's wand was still out, and that Ginny had moved beside Hermione, and now had an arm around her shoulders. "I'll see you later," Ron finished awkwardly.
"Right then," Harry said in what he hoped was a steady voice.
"Bye then," Ron said, and walked off, ignoring the calls of, "You let Longbottom beat you up, Weasley?" and "Had a falling out with your girlfriend?" from the Slytherins.
Harry stood silently, watching as his best friend walked away, oblivious to everything but Ron and the dying warmth of the evening.