Harry, however, did not have the chance to either prove nor disprove his stupidity, for Ginny and Dean sat sandwiched between Seamus and Parvati, leaving room for only one of them. Feeling an odd mixture of relief and disappointment, Harry followed Hermione to a spot further down the Gryffindor table, where they ate in companionable silence. Harry had the feeling that Hermione was pointedly avoiding looking up, as Ron had entered the Great Hall and sat in the open space beside Dean.

"Hermione, maybe if you talked to Ron—"

"No," she said hotly, cutting a piece of roast beef with unnecessary force. Harry dropped the subject.

"Hi, Harry!" came a voice. Harry looked across the table to see Colin Creevey, a mousy-haired fifth year boy, grinning at him.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry, taking some heart in the fact that Colin did not, at least, have a camera with him today.

"I'm supposed to give this to both of you," he said, handing Harry and Hermione each a fancy scroll, which was instantly recognizable as an invitation to one of Slughorn's parties. Harry groaned.

"Thanks, Colin," he said gloomily as the boy left. He chanced a glance at the staff table, where Slughorn appeared to be deep in conversation with Professor Sinistra.

"I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?" said Hermione, frowning. She did not seem at all enthusiastic, which Harry accredited to her experience with McLaggen at the last party.

"Reckon so," said Harry, contemplating the date of the party, January 6th. "That's this Saturday…I could schedule an emergency Quidditch practice," he said. But Hermione wasn't listening.

"Oh no, oh no!" she said under her breath frantically, looking down the table. Harry followed her gaze to, Cormac McLaggen, who was quickly approaching them with a swagger in his step and one of the scrolls in hand.

"Hermione," he said by way of greeting, nodding his head once in an annoying fashion. Hermione smiled weakly at him.

"Hi Cormac. Good holiday?" she asked, her voice rather higher than usual. McLaggen smiled at her, seeming to take her distress as a sign of attraction.

"Ah, tiring, very tiring, what with all the hunting and hiking" he said, massaging his shoulder as if to demonstrate this. It took some effort for Harry to return his eyebrows to their normal height. McLaggen did not ask how Hermione's holiday was, but instead continued. "I just came to confirm that we'll be going to old Sluggy's party together again," he said confidently. Hermione blanched.

"Oh…um…I'm really sorry, but someone's already asked me," she said. Harry fought the urge to grin, wondering how she was going to get out of this one.

"Who?" demanded McLaggen. "The invite's only been out for five minutes."

"Oh!" Harry felt Hermione seize his hand. "Harry, actually!'

"What? Oh, er… yeah," said Harry, making a mental note to murder Hermione. McLaggen looked outraged as he stormed away to sit in the empty seat across from Ron. Harry watched him go, and then rounded on Hermione.

"I'm sorry!" she said before he could speak. "But what was I supposed to do? I simply can't go with him again," she said desperately, and Harry, seeing the truth in her words, dropped the matter with a shrug. They finished eating and were halfway towards the entrance to the foyer when Ron called out to Harry from the table. Hermione did not stop, but instead brushed past Harry and out of the hall. Ron watched her go moodily, and then continued.

"Ginny says there's another Slug Club party this Saturday, so we were wondering if there would be Quidditch practice." He sounded hopeful, and Harry knew that Ron had become accustomed to Harry scheduling Quidditch practices to conflict with Slughorn's parties. This served the double purpose of giving everyone in the Slug Club an excuse to decline the invitations, as well as making Ron feel included. Harry paused.

"Er…actually," he said slowly, willing himself not to turn red. He glanced below him at the top of Ginny's head. Then, to Harry's horror, McLaggen took it upon himself to intervene.

"Potter's going to the party," he said, glaring at Harry. "I was going to take Granger, but he decided that he'd ask her first." There was a clatter as Ron's knife slipped, buttering the tip of his thumb. He ignored it.

"But you're going as friends, right?" Ron asked, incredulous. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was once again cut off by McLaggen.

"Well, she made a great show of holding his hand, so I'd say not," he scoffed, rising from the table and leaving.

"Ron—" said Harry, but Ron was already striding out of the hall. Irritated, Harry dropped into an empty seat and put his head in his hands. He suddenly felt exhausted, and had no desire to go back to the common room. The table was unnaturally silent. Harry looked up to see Dean, Ginny, Seamus, and Parvati all staring at him from down the table.

"Of course we're going as friends," he said with great annoyance. "McLaggen turned up out of nowhere, and he's a git, so Hermione pretended that I'd already asked her. Seeing as neither of us has anyone to go with anyways." Ginny looked down at her plate, and Harry wondered morosely whether this counted as stupidity or not. He spooned pudding onto the plate in front of him and picked at it, buying time until he would have to return to the common room, which would most likely contain both Ron and Cormac.

"We should just lock them in a room together," mused Dean, and Harry was puzzled.

"Ron and McLaggen? Yeah, that would end well…"

"No, Ron and Hermione. Make them work out all of their damn love problems. It gives me a headache," Dean said, and Harry nodded fervently over his pudding. As odd as it seemed for his two best friends to be together, it also seemed inevitable at this point.

"Women," said Seamus, grinning at Harry, who snorted and tried very hard not to look at Ginny.

"It's not women," said Ginny with irritation. "Stop blaming us — Dean, I can scoop my own damn pudding — stop blaming us for all of your problems." She grabbed the pudding spoon from Dean, who had been ladling the dessert onto her plate.

"Sorry," he grumbled, looking at Seamus.

"So, how was your holiday, Harry?" asked Seamus, raising his eyebrows.

It was extremely awkward, thank you for asking.

"Good, thanks," he said, grimacing.

"What did you lot do at Ron's, then?" Seamus continued.

Well, I made a soap beard, confessed my undying love for Ron's sister, and attacked everyone with peas. You?

"Mostly we just ate and talked, I reckon," Harry said, avoiding Dean's eye. "What did you do?"

"Stayed holed up with me mam for hours at a time," Seamus said, rolling his eyes. "She reckons it's unsafe to leave the house."

"My parents are the same," said Parvati. "But it worked out nicely for us; they took me and Padma to Fiji at the last minute!" She showed them the shell bracelet adorning her arm.

"Why Fiji, of all places?" asked Ginny curiously.

"Dad said that they couldn't really see you-know-who in Fiji," said Parvati, shrugging. Harry privately agreed; it was difficult to picture Voldemort strolling down a beach, although he amused himself with imagining it for a moment, grinning.

"What, Harry?" asked Dean, eyeing him warily.

"I imagine he's trying to picture Voldemort in Fiji, too," said Ginny. "Oh for heaven't sake, Dean." There had been a flurry of uncomfortable sounds and movement around the table as everyone reacted to her use of Voldemort's name. Harry caught Ginny's eye for the first time in a week, feeling considerably lighter. In fact, by the time that Neville entered the hall, clutching the Mimbulus Mimbletonia and dripping with green goo, Harry was feeling quite cheerful, which was partly due to the fact that his pudding was very good, but it also had a great deal to do with the small arguments that Ginny and Dean seemed to be having over a variety of subjects. Hermione seemed to be right about their relationship, Harry thought cheerfully as he dodged Neville and made his way up the marble staircase to the floors above. A small part of him felt bad for feeling happy, but this emotion confused him too much, so he set it aside. Besides, he thought, if Hermione was helping him, it had to be for the best. He had reached the portrait hole, where the Fat Lady seemed to have been reinstated. She hiccuped weakly and stared at him with slightly bleary eyes.

"Scallywag," Harry said, and she raised her fist, alarming him.

"Indeed he—hic—he is!" said the Fat Lady as the portrait swung forward to admit him. Harry climbed through into the common room, her mutterings about Sir Cadogan fading away behind him. Harry decided that he should probably clear things up with Ron before they got worse, and set off to find him. He didn't have to look far, for Ron, it transpired, was sitting in an armchair fifteen feet away. He stood up when Harry approached, but Harry started speaking quickly.

"Listen, Ron, it's not what you th—"

"I know, mate," he said, grinning. Harry was nonplussed. Ron had stormed out of the Great Hall not twenty minutes ago, and yet he seemed perfectly cheerful now. Knowing that it was not Ron's nature to suddenly overcome a grudge, he persisted.

"We're going as friends," he said firmly, and Ron nodded.

"Yeah, I know. Hermione told me," he said. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"You two are speaking again, then?" he asked, and Ron grinned still more widely.

"Yeah, I reckon so," he said.

"Good," said Harry, relieved that he was no longer in the awkward position of mediator. The two of them sat down and then turned to the rather alarming pile of homework that they had left for the end of break, pausing only here and there to insult Snape's essay on counterjinxes, and then, by the time that this topic had been thoroughly abused, Snape himself. When they both trundled up to bed after midnight, Harry collapsed, exhausted, and for the first time in several weeks, did not lie awake thinking of Dean and Ginny.

AN: Hi guys! I'm sorry that this chapter took forever; I have been very busy! But the updates should be coming much more frequently now, my apologies! Get ready for Slughorn's party!