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And now I shall leave you to read...and hopefully review...and I shall try my best to get back to you and stop getting distracted (good news for you, it is usually writing I am distracted with :p)


Chapter 8

"Ron, do you have any intention of getting dressed at all today?" Hermione asked, glancing up from the book she was reading. I knew it had been a mistake to have also bought her a book for Christmas. Now I'd barely get a conversation out of her until she'd read it from cover to cover, twice!

"Why bother?" I shrugged, wandering over to where she sat, curled up in the corner of the sofa. I was wearing nothing but a pair of Cannon orange underpants. "After all, there's only you and I here," I grinned as I sat down heavily next to her, making her bounce in place. "Unless you're saying you find the sight of me half naked too much of a distraction?" I smirked. "Because you know, if you did, I wouldn't blame you for acting out on any...desires," I whispered, nuzzling her neck with my nose.

"Ron!" she giggled and pushed me away. "I'm reading. And all I was going to say..."

"Is that my body repulses you?" I asked, pouting and acting as though she'd physically wounded me, holding my hand over my heart.

She rolled her eyes and set her book down for a moment. "You know that's not true," she kissed me softly, "but, what if your mum were to pop over, or remember your brother is only downstairs, he might come up for something."

"George never comes up here any more," I shrugged, remembering why was a sudden stab to the chest. "Besides, he's too busy with his hordes of early sales shoppers! Look, we have the place to ourselves for three whole days, I say we make the most of it!" I stood and, ceremoniously, I shoved my underpants down past my knees, kicking them off at the ankle and standing before Hermione completely naked with my hands on my hips.

It didn't have quite the effect I was going for. She laughed. She actually laughed at me! "You look utterly ridiculous!" She told me, picking her book up again, as though I was boring her. How could she ignore me when I was stood here naked, in all my glory? Honestly – women!

And right then, as if on cue or because Hermione had secretly planned it, there was a frantic knock at the door. I squeaked and ran for the bedroom as she just laughed at me again and got up to answer it.

"Hey," I heard George greet her from where I was listening at the bedroom door. Why did he have to prove me wrong today of all days? "Sorry to interrupt, but, erm...is my brother around?" he asked.

"Yeah, he's in the bedroom," she chuckled.

"Ron! Mate, I really need you!" he called. He might have braved coming up the stairs for the first time in a long time, but it didn't look as though he was up to actually stepping inside the flat just yet. "The shop is heaving and Verity is sick. Please Ron."

"I'm on holiday!" I yelled back, peering around the door, yanking my towelling dressing gown off the back of it.

"But, it's mad down there and I can't cope on my own. Please Ron, I'll pay you overtime!" He begged.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before starting your New Years sales early?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I appeared with my dressing gown now covering my nudity.

"Little brother," George sighed as though he was explaining something to a simpleton, "now is the time to strike! Kids have Christmas galleons they need to spend before school starts again. I have to cash in on their fortune. Oh, come on Ron? Just for a few hours? Please?"

"Ron..." Hermione started and I knew she was feeling sorry for him.

"But, we were busy and..." I began a feeble protest.

"Yes," George smirked, gazing at something on the floor. "I can see that!" he laughed, looking up at Hermione and flashing his eyebrows suggestively. My eyes widened when I realised what he'd noticed - the underwear I had playfully kicked off minutes ago.

"Oh no, we weren't, we were, I mean...Hermione was reading!" I rambled a sentence and groaned at myself. "Just, we have the place to ourselves for a few days, and..."

"Making the most of it, aren't you?" he smirked.

Hermione looked up at me, then down at the underwear and blushed, knowing what George was assuming, despite our activities before he'd come up here being totally innocent. Even if I had been trying to convince my girlfriend to make the most of our freedom and break a few more of Harry's silly house rules. "We weren't doing anything!" I folded my arms across my chest as I added the word 'yet' in my head.

George looked doubtful. "Well, anyway, I really do need you Ron. I wouldn't ask, but it's chaos. Hermione could come and help too?" he offered. "I'll pay you both."

"We could go and help him for a few hours Ron?" Hermione suggested. "It won't hurt."

"Eurgh! Fine!" I gave in, throwing my arms in the air. "But you owe me!" I warned him. "Just give me a couple of minutes."

"Great! Thanks!" He beamed and raced back downstairs to the sounds of loud shrieks, laughter, explosions and the buzz of conversation.

"And you," I poked Hermione before heading back to the bedroom to get dressed, "you'll owe me too!" I winked.

"I'll try to make it worth your while." She pulled me into her arms, ensnaring me in a passion filled kiss, her body pressed tight against mine, the kind of kiss that threatened to make me lose my mind and leave my brother waiting another hour for any help. And he would have been, had she not pulled away moments later. "That's just a small teaser of what's to come later," she smirked and went to find her shoes.

Minutes later and it was quite obvious that George had been slightly deceptive about how busy the shop really was. It was quite honestly pandemonium! Kids, probably high on sugar, were running riot everywhere - getting under everyone's feet and knocking things over. Parents chased after them or were hastily stripping the shelves bare of all on sale products. Someone had managed to upturn one of the Pygmy Puff crates, the creatures now scurrying around people's ankles, emitting high pitched squeals. And a half dozen or so boxes of Fanged frizbees had been unleashed, probably by some of those unruly kids, causing everyone to duck occasionally as they zoomed around the shop.

The place was heaving with customers – everyone from young families with those kids to grown adults, teenagers and grandparents alike all having to squeeze past one another to look at shelves, shouting over each other to be heard. Amongst the crowd I noticed a rather odd character in a heavy black cloak, the hood pulled low over their face. I tried to keep my eye on them because they seemed to be skulking about and acting rather suspicious. Whenever they found themselves too close to me, they hurried in the opposite direction, casting furtive glances back at me from time to time.

I looked over at Hermione, swamped at the cash register and shared a tight grimace with her. Already I knew she was regretting talking me into this as people pushed and shoved for their turn and hurled items at her. George was busy on the shop floor, overseeing the excitable kids, welcoming customers, helping out with enquiries and keeping an eye on prospective thieves. I made an effort to get close enough to warn him about the odd cloak person, but I could barely move.

George has set me the task of trying keep the shelves stocked. A never ending job as by the time I'd re-filled something, it was stripped bare within moments. Anyone would think witches and wizards had never seen a sale before the way everyone was behaving.

"Hey!" Someone poked me in the back. "You got any more Skiving Snackboxes? The shelf is empty." I turned to find two young wizards, Hogwarts age by the look of them, and neither one seemed bothered by the fact they'd almost made me fall from the ladder I was perched on.

"Excuse me, I was here first!" A haughty, twenty something witch elbowed the lads out of the way. "I am in need of more of that daydream charm, and someone just took the last one."

"Skiving snackboxes?" The boys demanded again, nudging in front of the woman and threatening to unbalance not only me this time, but the entire shelf behind them.

"Okay, okay, hold on!" I held my hands up and climbed down quickly. "Just give me a minute and I'll go check in the back," I muttered, scooping up two stray Pygmy Puffs on my way and going to dump them back in their crate. "Busy you said?" I scowled at George who was leading a small family towards his Muggle magic tricks. "This is bloody mental George!"

"Oh, little brother," he patted my shoulder, smiling good naturedly. "This is business. Come on, this way, I have a really good range, just got some new stock in." He waved the eager family forward, leaving me scowling at his back. He looked back and gave me a smug smirk over his shoulder. I gave him the finger and stomped off into the back room looking for the items people had asked me for.

I heaved a deep breath back there, it was somewhat quieter and certainly less crowded, giving me a moment to catch my breath. Okay, now what was I looking for? I scoured the shelves, trying to remember. And that was when I heard a high pitched scream – a scream I had heard before and never wanted to again. My blood ran cold and my heart pounded as I dropped the boxes I had just picked up and raced back into the shop.

A crowd had gathered around the cash register and George was busy trying to get past people, asking them politely to step aside. I didn't care so much, shoving past people to get to my girlfriend. Hermione was standing there, looking rather stunned and holding her hand to her chest. Blood was seeping through her fingers and staining her blouse as everyone peered at her – all morbidly curious.

"Hermione!" I yelped, pushing the last person out of my way and finally reaching her side. "What happened?" I cradled her and gently touched her injured hand whilst scanning her for any further damage.

"The...the till. It. It bit me!" She stared at it, sounding rather dazed. I was worried she was going into shock.

"Bit you?" I asked, thinking that maybe she had caught her finger in it when closing it – it was currently being used at a rather rapid pace after all.

"Yes, look!" She nodded her head towards it, not wanting to move her hand. I followed her gaze and saw what she meant. The money drawer of the cash register had developed fangs. And not just a pair of them, many pairs surrounded the whole drawer - sharp, menacing teeth that were even now snapping and snarling with Hermione's blood dripping off them.

"They… the teeth just suddenly appeared," she whispered, her voice too quiet for my liking.

"But how?" I asked, confused. I looked towards George who had finally joined us after dealing with the crowd. "Is this your idea of some bloody joke?" I accused him, jumping to conclusions.

"No! Of course not. You think I'm gonna set things to attack the staff or hinder taking payment?" He rolled his eyes. "Someone must have tampered with it," he added, looking at the till closely, running his hand carefully down the side of the machine, avoiding the sharp fangs.

"Then what the bloody hell happened?" I looked around. "Did you see anything, love?" I asked her. Her face looked pale and I really needed to get her upstairs so I could sit her down and see to her hand.

She slowly shook her head. "I was serving a customer, trying to be chatty, but they merely grunted at me. So, I just rang their things up, took the money and when I went to get the change, it just...bit me. They, whoever they were, ran off before I even gave them their change," she explained, slumping against me now.

"Did anyone see anything?" George asked his customers who were all craning their necks trying to get a look.

"I did!" Someone called from the back. "They had a huge cloak on, big heavy hood pulled low. Almost knocked me down running out of here when I heard the lass scream."

"That sounds like the person I was serving," Hermione told me. "I couldn't see their face."

"Look!" Another voice shouted and pointed to the window. "Is that them?"

I looked up towards where the kids were pointing outside towards the same figure I had seen skulking about the shop in the cloak earlier – the one I had meant to warn George about. So, that's what they had been up to – plotting to cause bloody mayhem and injure my girlfriend. The second they noticed us all peering out the window, they took off, racing down the street with the long cloak trailing behind them. For just a second our eyes met and I thought there was something familiar about them, but it was so fleeting I wasn't sure. It was probably just because I had noticed them hanging around earlier.

"George?" I asked him somewhat urgently.

"I'm on it!" He yelled and people actually parted for him to race past.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs and take a look at this." I pulled Hermione gently towards me, urging people to move. I knew I was leaving the shop open and unattended, but Hermione was my only concern right now, not a few possible shop lifters. Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if George had anti-theft enchantments guarding the shop.

"Here, sit down," I instructed her, pushing her into a chair at the kitchen table and then hurried around the room grabbing needed items to treat the wounds. "Let me see," I gently pulled her hand towards me and using a clean cloth, dipped it into the bowl of warm water and wiped away some of the blood. She had probably half a dozen bites all over her hands and up her wrists, some bleeding more than others. "How did it get you so many times?" I asked, wrapping her hand in a clean towel after cleaning it and going to pour the stained water down the drain.

"I don't know," she slowly shook her head. "It all happened so fast – it was like it was ravenous or something. I think it was actually after the money, but my hand got in the way.

I returned with a bowl full of murtlap essence. "Here, put your hand in here for a bit, whilst I find the dittany," I told her, heading to the bathroom to look for the little bottle. "Unless, do you think you need to go to St Mungo's?" I paused and looked back at her. "I mean, we don't know if the bite is poisonous or if that idiot did something else to it or..."

"I think I'll be fine," she gave me a brave smile. "This is helping right now," she swirled her hand in the bowl. "It's stinging less already."

"Good," I nodded and resumed my search for the bottle.

Ten minutes later, I had her hand dried, dittany had been applied which had started to heal the wounds and I had wrapped it in a bandage. I was just making her a cup of tea when George came to find us in the flat.

"How is it?" he asked, grimacing when he saw Hermione's hand all bandaged up.

"I'll be okay." She offered him a smile.

"Did you catch them"? I asked hopefully, setting a mug of tea in front of Hermione.

George sighed and pulled out a chair at the table, running a hand through his hair. "No," he groaned. "I chased them as far as Knockturn alley. They paused to glance back and once they realised they were being chased, they Disapparated. Sorry."

I inhaled deeply and sat down beside my girlfriend, nursing a mug of tea of my own.

"I am really sorry Hermione. If I had thought anything could happen, I wouldn't..." he sighed and grasped a handful of his hair. "I've closed the shop for now." George went on to explain. "Got rid of everyone and shut up shop."

"Have you sorted out the bloody cash till?" I asked.

"I can't," he shrugged. "I tried a few spells on it, but it's still snapping and gnashing it's fangs. I don't know what they did to it. I mean, it would make an excellent burglar repellent, but...not so good for the shop if we can't take cash!" George shrugged. "I've locked it up in a crate for now. I'll have to research how to fix it or something." He groaned, knowing this was another hassle he didn't need. Truth was, it was only in the last few months that George had really enjoyed being back in the shop again, getting his mojo back and being excited about new products. As pissed off as I was that this had happened, I didn't want this to set him back. "I'm just glad you're okay though."

"It's a bit sore, but it will be fine. Ron looked after me." She gave him a reassuring smile.

"I wish I knew who that jerk was though and what they thought they were doing. I mean...what would they achieve?" George mused, getting up to help himself to a cup of tea from the full pot left on the side. I watched him as he moved effortlessly around the kitchen, vaguely noting that this was the first time George had been in the flat since he'd lived here with Fred.

"Other than hurting Hermione," I muttered. "Which may have been their main intention," I suddenly realised.

"Why would you think that?" George looked surprised. "I mean, why would anyone intentionally want to hurt Hermione? You lot are regarded as heroes or something."

I groaned and rubbed the back of my neck, noting the look my girlfriend was giving me. We hadn't told anyone else about that letter, she'd asked me not to, wanting to simply forget about it and insisted it was just a cruel joke. She didn't think it was worth worrying anyone about. But, I thought otherwise, I was starting to take the threat seriously.

"Hermione had this letter," I began.

"Ron, that was nothing!" Hermione cut in, whispering harshly.

"Oh really? And not three days later, this happens to you? There were loads of people in the shop, yet they targeted the one thing that would only injure you."

"What kind of letter?" George asked, sensing Hermione and I were about to get into a row.

"The threatening, anonymous kind," I sighed. "I called in at work and told the investigation squad about it. But, since she burnt it," I gave Hermione a look, "they said there's not much they can do without the actual letter to examine. Just told me to keep a close eye on things if it worried me and if anything else arrives to bring it to them and they'll look into it for me."

"Hmm..." George mused, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "That is weird though, isn't it? Why would anyone want to threaten you?" He looked at Hermione. "I mean, unless it's one of those dark pricks still on the run? But, surely they'd be more likely to go after you or Harry, since you're Aurors? Makes no sense."

"I know, which is why I think this is more personal," I nodded, glad that someone else was agreeing with me that it was strange.

"I told you Ron. It's just someone's idea of a joke. It was a stupid letter, probably from some jealous fan or something. Don't get so neurotic about everything." She rolled her eyes as she pushed her chair back, pausing to finish her tea.

"I wish you'd take it more seriously," I muttered. The whole thing troubled me, there was just this nagging feeling I couldn't let go of and I was scared someone was after her, yet I couldn't figure out who or why.

Hermione stood up and sighed. "You get suspicious of everything these days, must be something that Auror academy drummed into you. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to lie down for a bit."

"Okay," I reached up and kissed the side of her head. "Let me know if that gets worse," I nodded towards her hand and watched as she wandered off to our room. "I still reckon something is going on," I mumbled to George once she was out of earshot.


"So, how is your hand doing now?" Ginny asked, reaching for Hermione's hand across the kitchen table to study it.

Having just returned from their little break, my sister was sat chatting with Hermione whilst Harry had gone to check the post I'd told him had arrived in his absence.

"Oh, it's fine," Hermione rubbed it unconsciously. "Your mum gave me some lotion to put on it yesterday and it's helping. It's looking less pink already, right Ron?" she asked me.

"Oh, yeah. it's looking great," I replied, absently, having been locked in a staring battle with my girlfriends damn fuzzball of a cat who was peering around the door at me.

The cat in question had just moved into the flat a couple of days ago, Hermione begging me to take him in after she'd had a huge row with her parents over him. Apparently they were annoyed she was never home to take care of him herself since he was her responsibility and had suggested her cat may as well move in here, since she spent most of her time here. I can't say I had been thrilled at the idea. I mean, Crookshanks and I had never been best friends, we tolerated one another at best these days. But, one look at my girlfriend's pleading face and I had given in, saying we'd give it a trial run and see how we got on.

"Mum is great at throwing together those lotions," Ginny nodded. "Remember that one she used a lot when we were kids Ron? Especially when you got stung by those wasps? He fell on a nest!" Ginny whispered loudly to Hermione and she giggled.

I groaned, getting up to put the kettle back on for more tea. "I didn't fall, you pushed me!" I reminded her. "And it wasn't funny! I could barely sit down for a week." I winced as I rubbed my backside, remembering the incident as though it was yesterday, not about 14 years ago when I'd been around six.

"Well, anyway, Mum soon sorted him out once he dared tell her what was wrong," she continued. "He was too embarrassed to tell her his bum hurt!" She roared with laughter and I pulled a face at Hermione when I saw she was laughing right along with her. "I'm glad your hand is better though. I still can't believe something like that happened in the shop," she shook her head.

"It wasn't just some random act, Ginny. Hermione was targeted and..."

"Oh, Ron. Please don't go on about that again," Hermione sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"Why? Because it's so terrible that I'm concerned for your safety? Or that I think..."

"Harry!" she suddenly exclaimed as he walked into the kitchen, cutting me off. He looked up, rather startled, from reading one of his letters. "You're sure you don't mind Crookshanks moving in here, do you? My parents were fed up of the poor thing."

"What? Oh no," Harry looked down at the cat currently winding his way around his ankles. He gave Hermione a smile. "I'm sure he'll be good company. Better than that prat, anyway," he nodded towards myself.

"Yeah, thanks mate," I sniffed. "Same to you!" I gave him the finger, dropping it quickly when Hermione slapped my arm.

"I'll call in after work each day to take care of him and feed him, even the days I don't intend staying." She gave me a warning look that told me there might be more days she didn't stay if I didn't stop annoying her with what she called my absurd paranoia.

"Really, it's not a problem. He's a clever fella and it will really be good to have him around. I sort of miss having a pet," he sighed sadly. Harry still didn't have the heart to buy himself a new owl, after poor old Hedwig. Right now we both relied on Pig for delivering our post. Meaning the poor tiny sod was out delivering or hunting more than he was home.

"That's good. I'm sure he'll be happy here, amongst magical folk and that. I suggested to Ron that you put a flap on the door so he can come and go as he pleases. He'll enjoy hunting in the alley at night," she smiled, fussing her cat who had leapt up onto her lap, nudging her hand for some attention.

"Sounds good," Harry nodded, slightly distracted as he returned to his letter with a little sigh and rubbed his forehead.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked him.

"It's from Andromoda." He held the sheet of parchment in the air.

"Is Teddy all right?" she asked, worried.

"Oh, he's fine. She actually wants to know if we can have him next weekend."

"That's not a problem is it?" Ginny asked. "I don't have any matches on or anything then, so I can come with you," she volunteered. "You know I love that little boy."

Harry looked up, a slightly anxious expression on his face. "Actually, she wants us to have him all weekend, like overnight. She needs to visit on old friend who is sick, so doesn't want to take Teddy with her. I've never had him overnight before. Babysitting for a few hours is different than taking care of him all weekend!" He looked nervous about the idea as he ran his hand through his black hair, dishevelling it even more.

"Oh," Ginny looked to the two of us for support. "Well, I'm sure we can manage. Teddy loves us, he's comfortable around us and we know what we're doing now, so..."

"Why don't you invite him to stay here?" Hermione suggested. "That way the four of us can watch him. I'm sure between us we'll cope," she looked around at everyone.

"That's actually a good idea!" he nodded, beaming at the letter now. "It will be fun!" he decided.

I snorted, thinking it would be anything of the sort.

"You will enjoy it, Ron!" Hermione scowled at me.

"Hey, I love the little fella too. Just, pointing out that looking after a not quite two year old is probably going to be more work than actual fun!" I shrugged. "But, yeah, sure we'll cope," I nodded.

"Good." Harry put his letter down and poured himself some tea as he took a seat at the table with us. "I'll write her back in a bit. Is Pig out again?" he asked me.

"Nah, he's fast asleep in my room. Only just got back this morning and the poor little thing almost collapsed when he got in."

"Oh. Well I'll let him rest, he can take it when he wakes," he decided.

"Harry..." Ginny began gently and slid her hand over his. "Don't you think it's time you got another…"

"Not now Gin'!" He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, what were you talking about before I came in?" he asked, looking at us all, skilfully avoiding the painful subject of him getting a new owl.

Hermione groaned. "Oh don't. If the two of you are going to start your silly conspiracy theories again, Ginny and I are taking our tea into the lounge!" She stood up and made Crookshanks yowl in disgust at being disturbed.

"I guess I'm heading for the lounge," Ginny sighed, slowly getting up from the table and following Hermione.

Much later that night, just when I was heading to bed, I walked in my room only to find the blasted cat curled up on my pillow, fast asleep.

"Oi!" I shouted at him whilst using my wand to close the curtains and pick up my clothes that had missed the laundry hamper again. Crookshanks barely cracked an eyelid to peer at me before snuggling down again. "This is my bed, you mangy cat!" I grumbled, stepping towards my side of the bed and dropping my wand on the bedside table. I nudged him and he still didn't move. "My space, shift!" I poked the cat.

Crookshanks gave me a disgusted look, before standing up, arching his back and snuggling down once again. "Oh no you don't mate!" I picked him up and put him on the floor, before quickly crawling into bed. I received a glare from his beady little amber eyes before he flicked his tail and lightly hopped up onto the bed again, curling up in another space, defiantly.

"Right," I sighed, facing the cat. "Let's get a few things straight, you. I don't mind you moving in here, because it makes Hermione happy, and I like doing things that make her happy. But, let me inform you of a few house rules. First, this," I pointed to the sheets, "is my bed. No cats allowed! You can sleep anywhere you want, Harry's bed for all I care, but not mine! Secondly, no yacking up revolting hairballs on my bed or on any of my stuff actually." Crookshanks wasn't paying me the slightest bit of attention as he stretched out, paddling his paws against the fluffy blanket on my bed and contently purring to himself.

I sighed, knowing this was useless. But, I needed to set some boundaries, whether he took them in or not. "Thirdly, you use that litter tray or you go outside, I do not want to be standing in any nasty surprises in a morning! And speaking of that, I don't need to see your arse when you jump up next to me either. Oh, and no half dead critters brought into the flat. I don't care that Hermione says you think you're giving me a present – that's something I can live without, thanks! So, got it?" I asked the cat who had closed his eyes now and wasn't listening to a word I said.

I lay back in bed and absent-mindedly scratched his ears. "Like I said, you're only here because it makes Hermione happy. And, I suppose that's one thing you and I have in common, we both love that woman. So we're going to get along and make this arrangement work for her sake, all right?" I asked. Crookshanks opened one sleepy eye and seemed to give me this look that said 'fine, but I'm still sleeping here, loser!'

I rolled my eyes, realising that trying to keep him from my bed was probably a losing battle. "Just as stubborn as your mistress," I mumbled to myself, settling myself in bed. Reaching over for the latest Quidditch magazine, I caught sight of Hermione hovering in the doorway, stifling giggles behind her hand. "How long have you been there?" I asked. I hadn't heard her return from the bathroom.

She smiled, stepped inside and closed the door. "Long enough to hear 'the rules'." She used her fingers as quotation marks and chuckled to herself, climbing into bed beside me. "Your little chat was very sweet, but, well...he is a cat Ron. And cats pretty much do as they please."

"Yeah, I've noticed," I looked down where he was currently curled up, quite content and cosy in the middle of the bed.

"Look," she began as she snuggled closer to me, "if he didn't like you, he wouldn't even be in here. Cats will only sleep beside those they feel comfortable with and whom they like, so take it as a compliment. Besides, I know he's going to be a good boy, he promised," she assured me with a kiss to my cheek.

"Well, he'd better be," I muttered, before claiming her lips in a much deeper kiss and sliding closer to one another, much to the disgust of Crookshanks who gave a disgruntled meow before moving to the bottom of the bed, glaring at me again.


So...Ron is still concerned and wanting to do more to protect his girlfriend, Hermione is being her stubborn self about it all, despite being injured again and Ron has lost his bed to Crookshanks! What else can go wrong?! I'll let you know soon :)

Reviews make the next chapter appear faster - honest - it's like magic or something! Ask any witch or wizard ;p