Chapter Four

"Whoa! Watch where you're swinging that thing, Ron. You could have had my eye out."

Ron paused what he was doing and looked at the pool cue in his hand. He dearly hoped nobody was eavesdropping on them – Merlin knows what they'd think!

He was in Fred and George's old room, attempting to help Harry pack his trunk, ready for the train journey to Scotland in the morning. The problem was, Harry was refusing to do any work. He'd made some excuse about not being able to use his wand and was now lying back on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, sipping from a bottle of beer.

Harry also wanted to pack everything, including the pool table and ice box, and was directing Ron around the room like he was a house-elf. Ron was forced to grit his teeth and wonder why he hadn't told his best friend to bugger off already.

"Are you sure you need to take this?" asked Ron yet again, eyeing the pool table. No matter how many times he tried, he simply couldn't wrap his mind around the rules of the game. Even worse, he didn't have a clue how Harry understood how to play, seeing as he'd lost all his memories. It just didn't make sense to him. "We'll have Quidditch at Hogwarts, mate, and we'll be so bogged down by homework we probably won't even have time to play."

Harry made a shooing motion with his hand. "Don't worry, Ron, you'll soon learn to love the game." He took another sip of beer. "You said we sleep in a dormitory with three other guys, right? We'll put this bad boy in the room, so it doesn't feel so gay, you know? If anyone asks, we'll just call it male bonding time."

"Right…" said Ron, not really understanding any of that, but he didn't understand Harry at all these days.

A month had passed since Harry had been released from St. Mungo's, but Ron wondered how he'd even been released in the first place. Harry was as insane as ever. His mother hated him using that word – insane – but Ron felt it was the perfect word to describe Harry nowadays.

He wasn't a crackpot like Dumbledore had been, nor was he a raving lunatic like Voldemort … no, Harry had a unique brand of nuttiness. Tactless and blunt, it was as though he didn't have a filter between his brain to his mouth. Talking to him always proved to be difficult; if Harry didn't like the topic of conversation, he'd change it without warning. If that wasn't enough, it was as though he was constantly thinking about sex.

Another thing Ron simply couldn't fathom was Harry's constant cheerful mood. He'd dealt with Harry's tempers tantrums over the years, but his new happy-go-lucky attitude was really starting to get on his nerves.

All in all, it was enough to drive Ron mad.

"If I could just have my wand back," bemoaned Harry. "But no, Hermione bloody insists I need to be assessed first. Do you know what she needs?" He looked at Ron hopefully. "That girl needs a good old fashioned shag."

Ron forced himself not to say anything he'd regret. He concentrated with everything he had and managed to shrink the pool table so it fit inside Harry's trunk. The ice box was already packed away, along with Harry's clothes, books, and all his other possessions.

"So," said Harry, giving Ron one of his sinister grins. That's what Ron liked to call it anyway, because it usually meant he was about to say something that made Ron want to crawl into a deep hole and never come out. "Have you and Hermione done the dirty yet?"

Once again, Ron tried not to wish his best friend was still in hospital.

"You know she doesn't fancy me, Harry," Ron said through gritted teeth. It was a sore topic with him, which Harry knew, but that didn't stop him bringing it up. "I used to think she might," Ron admitted in a rare moment of honesty. He sat down on the edge of Harry's mattress. "But she told me last night she didn't think we'd ever work out."

"I imagine if you two ever got married, you'd have to have marriage counselling every other weekend."

"Do you like her?" Ron decided it was best to be blunt.

"Hermione's the type of girl you'd settle down with," said Harry. He didn't even ponder the question, which lead Ron to think he'd already given the matter quite some thought. "You know, she's the girl you marry, have babies with, the whole shebang. You could do far worse. But fuck, Ron, I'm seventeen. I don't even want to think about all that crap until I'm forty. I want to live, mate. I want to see the world."

Ron frowned. "So, is that a yes or a no?"

"I'll tell you in twenty years," said Harry. "Let's wait and see how well her tits hold up first. Don't even get me started on Ginny. I bet she's a little firecracker in the bedroom, all red hot lust and animalistic desire, but in twenty years? She might look like Molly, and who the hell wants that?"

Ron refused to let his anger overcome his common sense – so he blinked, stood up, and walked out of the room without saying a word. He understood why Hermione sometimes felt like crying now.

Back in the bedroom, Harry was staring at the door which Ron had quietly closed as he walked out. "What a funny fellow," he muttered to himself. "Poor bloke probably can't handle his drink."

It was the big day.

The day Hermione had been dreading for a month had finally arrived. For the first time she could remember, she was glad of the Weasley's notoriously poor time-keeping. She knew Harry would encounter the rest of the student body sooner rather than later, but she hoped that being late would mean there wouldn't be any dawdling.

They'd gotten through breakfast without any trouble, thanks to Mrs Weasley making enough food for Harry to ignore everyone else and concentrate on eating. But now they were standing at the fireplace, ready to Floo to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and Hermione had never been more nervous.

Harry was grinning from ear to ear. "Well? What are we waiting for?"

Ron stepped forward, offering Hermione a comforting smile. It didn't work. The fire flared green as Ron disappeared, and Harry went a second later, followed by Hermione. It was the first time Molly wasn't going with them, having said her goodbyes earlier.

Hermione stepped out on to the platform, the sun bright in her eyes, and saw Ron hurrying Harry on to the train. She sighed, relieved. Step one was complete. She rushed to catch up with them, not stopping to speak to anyone.

Ron had managed to find an empty compartment near the front of the train. It was where the younger years usually sat, and Hermione suspected Ron had thrown some poor first year out, but she wasn't going to complain.

Hermione was tense as they waited for the Hogwarts Express to start, but it pulled out of the station uneventfully. Now came the moment she was dreading. She stood up, already dressed in her robes, Head Girl badge gleaming.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron.

"I'm Head Girl, Ron," said Hermione exasperatedly. She glanced warily at Harry, who was staring out of the window, a bored look on his face. In her mind, the thought of leaving him in Ron's hands was as good as leaving him unattended.

"Oh," said Ron, frowning. His eyes flickered to Harry, obviously thinking along the same lines as she was. "Please don't be long."

The pleading look in his eyes would have amused her before, but it only made her anxious now. "I'll be as fast as I can," she promised, hoping her voice wasn't betraying her nervousness.

Hermione was halfway out of the door when Harry suddenly said, "Wait. I didn't know you were Head Girl. Why didn't you say anything before?"

Hermione was speechless for a moment, appalled that he didn't know. "I did tell you!"

"Did you?" asked Harry, frowning. "I can't remember that."

Hermione huffed. "Well, I did."

Harry's eyes raised to the ceiling, and his nose scrunched up. Hermione waited impatiently for him to remember.

"It was the day we had our letters," she reminded him.

"Aha!" Harry's eyes lit up, but Hermione's hopes that he actually did remember were dashed when he added, "That was the day you wore those tight shorts, wasn't it? You should wear them more often; your arse looked great."

Hermione was struck speechless for the second time in as many minutes. She tried to control her rising ire, reminded herself that she should be used to Harry's new personality by now, but it didn't stop the low growl escape her lips.

Harry got a mischievous look on his face. "Say, does this mean you'll be getting your own private bedroom? Perhaps we can put your new title of Head girl to good use."

Ron stared at him, wide-eyed, and Hermione's lips parted, which was a mistake.

"Yes, just like that!" crowed Harry gleefully.

Ron looked faintly green and his lips moved for a second with any sound coming out, until he managed to get out, "Just go, Hermione. I can handle him."

Hermione dearly hoped he could. She would be stuck in the meeting for most of the train ride, and who knew how much chaos Harry could cause in those few hours.

The compartment door closed as Hermione left, and Harry turned to Ron. "Well, what do we usually do on the way to Hogwarts?"

"Not much," admitted Ron, shrugging. "We used to play some chess, but you hate that now."

Harry didn't say anything for a while. He stretched out his legs and twiddled his thumbs as he looked around the compartment, obviously trying to think of something to do. Finally, he stood up.

"I'm as bored as a monk in a brothel," he declared. "Come on, let's go exploring."

Harry was out of the compartment before Ron could even get a word out, and he scrambled out of his seat to follow him. Harry was striding down the corridor, peering into every compartment as he passed.

"It's just a train, Harry," said Ron, furiously trying to think of a way to stop him going any further. "There's nothing exciting happening here."

Harry scoffed at that. "It's a train chock-a-block full of teenagers, Ron. There has to be something going on here."

Ron continued trying to stop him, but it was no use. They reached the back of the train, where most of the older students were sitting. Before Ron could stop him, Harry pulled a door open and strode inside a compartment.

"Hello, ladies," he said, smiling brightly.

"Potter!" Seamus Finnigan jumped to his feet in surprise.

Along with Seamus, the compartment was filled by his best friend, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, and the Patil twins.

"All right, Irish?" Harry greeted Seamus. "Don't mind if we join your little party, do you?" He turned to Ron and said, in a loud voice, "Hey, do you know if there's such a thing as Indian veela?"

Ron winced, trying to apologise to Parvati and Padma with his eyes, but he didn't see the anger he expected from them. They were looking shocked, but if anything, they radiated happiness.

"Not that I know of," said Ron through gritted teeth.

"Well, there must be," said Harry, grinning lewdly at Patil twins. "You have to be Indian veela. You're too perfect not to be."

The girls giggled. Ron couldn't believe what Harry was saying, and nor could he believe the girls were eating it up.

"Budge up," said Harry, plonking himself in the non-existent gap between the twins. Dean was forced off the end of the seat. "Now that Hermione's not here to stop me, maybe I can finally get somewhere."

"I'm sorry." Ron felt it needed to be said. "You probably know he lost his memory. Well, as you can see, the accident changed him. He still can't remember anything."

Parvati completely ignored Ron. She was intently gazing at Harry and nibbling on her bottom lip, as though she was seconds away from pouncing on him then and there.

"Come on, Harry," said Ron again.

"He's staying with me," said Parvati in a low voice.

Harry leant in to kiss her, when the compartment door was flung open. Draco Malfoy stopped short at seeing the position Harry was in, but quickly shook off his surprise.

"I hear you've lost your mind, Potter," he drawled, but his usual smirk looked fixed and his eyes didn't hold so much hatred. Ron could understand why; his dad had been killed only a few months ago (although Draco didn't know it was Harry who did it). "Although you didn't have much of one to begin with."

Harry looked at Draco. "Who the hell are you?"

Draco puffed himself up, some of his old swagger returning. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry snorted and looked to Ron. "Do I know him?"

"Remember that woman you tried chatting up in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago?" Ron didn't bother hiding his amusement. "That's his mother. He's a right git."

Malfoy looked outraged.

"The woman whose husband I killed, you mean?" asked Harry.

Silence reigned in the compartment. Malfoy's face steadily got redder and a murderous look appeared in his eyes.

"I'll kill you, Potter."

Harry stood up and, before anyone could stop him, he punched Malfoy right on the nose. The blonde boy staggered back, only managing to stay on his feet because he fell back into Goyle's arms.

"Holy shit," said Seamus, staring in awe at Harry.

"Send your mother my love," said Harry, before he slammed the door in Malfoy's face. He turned back around and smiled at Parvati like nothing had happened. "Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Parvati grinned coyly. "I believe you were about to kiss me, Harry."

Feeling completely flabbergasted, Ron watched Harry kiss her. It wasn't just a peck on the lips, either; it was a full blown tongue-wrestling match. Within seconds, Parvati was flat on her back, her legs wrapped around Harry's midsection. Her hands were in his hair, messing it up worse than usual, and she was loudly moaning beneath him.

Ron just stood there, wondering how on earth Harry had managed to get one of the prettiest girls in school into such a position with only a few words. He wasn't the only one staring. Seamus and Dean looked like they'd found a new hero; Padma was biting her bottom lip, intently watching, as though jealous she wasn't getting in on the action. Lavender was the only one who wasn't looking at them – she was eyeing Ron up and down instead.

"Well, you have to admit it," said Dean, breaking the silence. "He works bloody fast."

Seamus nodded, and then shook his head in disbelief.

Ron flopped into the seat. "I give up with him."

Harry and Parvati continued to furiously kiss for the rest of the train ride. The conversation eventually became less awkward and, for the most part, everyone ignored what was happening.

Ron was dreading Hermione's reaction when she found out he'd let Harry do what he wanted. He'd thought the past few years had been eventful, but he was bracing himself for the craziest year yet. They hadn't even got to Hogwarts yet and already he was unsure how much more he could take.