Part 2 - Autumn
Chapter 12 – The Autumnal Equinox Dance
Hermione hurried down the dorm stairs, and Harry jumped up from the common room couch to meet her before she made it out the Portrait Hole.
"Oi! Hermione! Is Ginny still up there?"
She slowed, but didn't stop, and her expression was…confusing. Was she purposely trying to avoid him?
"Hermione?" He ran after her.
"Uh…no. She left early this morning." She stepped out into the corridor, and Harry followed.
"Left?"
"Didn't she go down to you?"
"If she had, why would I be asking? Go down? When?"
"I don't know," she snapped, and hugged her books closer to her chest. She hurried down the Gryffindor Tower stairs, but then they shifted and she had to stop to wait for the next landing to connect. "Harry, I don't now anything."
"What time did she leave?"
"Early."
"Like six in the morning, early?"
"Like…two."
"She left the bloody room at two in the morning, and you didn't stop her?"
"I thought she was going to your bed, Harry, so no, I didn't bloody stop her!"
"She obviously wasn't!" Harry snapped back.
"Well, with the Aurors patrolling the halls, it's not like she was running around the castle all night," Hermione said with a huff. Meaning, she couldn't have left Gryffindor Tower to meet her boyfriend for an illicit night of passion. "Maybe she just needed some space, and went down to the common room."
"Then where is she?" Harry demanded.
"Well, we are late for breakfast. Perhaps she went down earlier."
"I've been waiting since seven," Harry said.
"Curfew ends at sun-up. She might've gone down to eat earlier, or to the library – we do have a ridiculous amount of homework-"
"She's with Ernie," Harry said. Somehow saying it out loud hurt so much more than just screaming it in his head. So, he said it again. "She's gone to Ernie."
"Did you two have another row?"
"No!" Harry said, wounded by her accusation. Ginny didn't need a row with Harry as an excuse to see Ernie. She was already planning it. But she'd said after the dance, and Harry still should've had all day to get through to her. Unless…
"Has she said anything to you?" Harry asked. "You know, about Ernie?" He shoved his fists into his pockets. "About tonight?"
"About tonight?" Hermione asked. "What do you mean? She's going to the dance tonight. We all are." The staircase finally connected with the next landing.
"Never mind," Harry grumbled, and pushed past her. It was time for Double Potions, and Harry was going to kill his Potions partner.
"Harry, wait," Hermione called after him.
He was beyond waiting. He'd been careful not to touch Ginny, or pressure her, or make her uncomfortable. Friendship, Charlie had said. Develop the friendship. Remind her of why she liked him in the first place. What a load of bullocks! Effing Charlie with his effing advice. Why was Harry taking advice from the likes of him, anyway? Where did Charlie Weasley get off giving anyone witch advice? He was the absolute last person Harry should've listened to.
"Oh, Harry, please slow down! You're not thinking properly!"
"Yes, I am!"
"Clearly, you're not!"
Harry whirled around to face her. "And can you blame me? Say it's Ron and Lavender again, not Ginny and Ernie-"
"What?"
"It's Ron and Lavender, and he's told you he's going to shag her, and when, and you've only got a few days to make sure it doesn't happen. But, he's gone off early, snuck out in the middle of the night to bag the prettiest girl in our year." The horror in her eyes should've told him he'd gone too far, but Harry was so lost in his own hurt that he barely saw her at all. "He doesn't love her, he loves you, but he's going to shag the bloody hell out of her because you made a mistake. Because you didn't say the right thing, you didn't do the right thing, because you fucked him in a moment of weakness, and now he wants to hurt you back. You're sorry, but it doesn't matter! You love him, but it's not good enough! And you know the exact minute it all went to hell, and no matter what you do or say or think you can't ever get that moment back!" His chest was heaving, his cheeks on fire. "Now tell, me Hermione, are you thinking clearly? Ron's fucking Lavender, are you–"
She slapped him hard and sharp, and it shocked him back a step. It was then that he saw the tears in her eyes, the color in her face, the pain. "Why do you think I've been helping you?" Hermione said. "Why do you think I didn't stop Ginny last night? I know, Harry. You don't have to tell me, because I know! And how dare you suggest that Ron running to Lavender was my fault!"
"No, I didn't mean… of course, it wasn't your fault." Actually, it was most likely Ginny's fault for telling Ron that Hermione had snogged Viktor Krum in fourth year. That tidbit of information had sent him into a tailspin.
"I've known you a long time, Harry, and you've never treated people as abysmally as you are now. Last year you never would've thrown Ron and Lavender in my face like that. Ron would've, but not you. You're too good for that."
Apparently he wasn't.
"What's happened to you? Is it Dumbledore's death? It was hard on all of us, but I know it was doubly so on you. We never talked about it-"
"I don't want to talk about it, Hermione."
"Well, I don't want this new Harry anymore! He's mean and selfish, and he's a bloody bully!"
That hurt more than the slap. He didn't know how to respond, because he knew she wasn't wrong.
Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration, and grabbed the hand he had pressed to his cheek. As she dragged him down the seventh floor corridor, he was very conscious that not only was she leading him away from class, but that she was also holding his hand rather tightly. His knuckle bones ground together.
"So…we're not going to Double Potions?" he hesitantly asked. It didn't seem prudent to question her, but he couldn't help himself.
"There are more important things than school, Harry."
"You did not just say that."
She smirked. "Don't tell Ron."
She led him through corridor after corridor, and then up the Astronomy Tower steps. Harry hadn't been back since Dumbledore was killed. At the base of the steps - that was where Ginny and Neville had fought - his eyes lingered. That night might've turned out so differently. As they got higher up the twisting staircase, Harry's chest drew tighter. He realized what Hermione was doing. She was taking him back.
"No." He stopped near a tall, thin window. The light outside was bright and white.
Hermione refused to let go of his hand. "It'll be all right," she told him. "I'll be there with you."
It was bad enough to come back to the castle. Harry didn't think he could stand on that rampart, too. "Hermione, I can't."
"You can't carry on like you've been doing, can you?"
"You don't understand. It's not about Dumbled…" He couldn't even say his name here.
She looked down at their clasped hands. "Then help me to understand, Harry. Please. You're my best friend, and it's like I don't even know you anymore."
"You're being dramatic. I haven't changed that much. Besides, you're the one making us skive off class. Maybe it's you who's changed." And suddenly the image of her lying on her bed, starkers, touching herself while Ron went down on her flew into his mind. Her watching him watch her. His face went hot. He pulled his hand away from her. "All right, maybe we've both changed." He glanced out the window to keep from staring at her chest.
Why did Hermione have to grow breasts and turn into a proper witch? Why couldn't she be the exception? Sometimes it was bloody hell having a girl for a best mate.
"Come with me, Harry," she whispered. "Tell me what happened."
"You don't want to know," he said, but she linked her arm with his, and he allowed her to pull him up a couple more steps.
"You need to share it."
It was almost surreal climbing those stairs in the daylight - seeing the stone floor and walls, seeing the heavy oak door latched shut. The traitor Snape had come through that door with his black robes billowing behind him. It wasn't even three months ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. It felt like yesterday.
"I'm here," Hermione reminded him as she opened the door.
Harry blinked against the sun. The air was brisk, and the wind was up. Hermione's hair whipped around, but she didn't let go of his hand. She surveyed the rampart. It was deceptively empty.
"So…over there then?" she asked, pointing to the crenellations along the wall that led down to the courtyard below; square stone teeth gaping at the grounds. That was where Dumbledore died, and where his body was flung over the wall like a heap of rubbish.
Harry couldn't even nod.
"And where were you? He froze you, you said."
He didn't want to do this, but his free hand lifted anyway, pointed to the corner behind the door. How long had he been stuck there with his Invisibility Cloak thrown over him? Hours? Days? "When you're frozen you don't cry, even when your soul is dying."
"Oh, Harry." She gripped his arm tighter.
There was a squeezing in his chest that kept air from his lungs. He began to shake.
"Over here, then," Hermione whispered, and she pulled him to the spot he'd been on that night.
In his mind's eye he could see Draco now, all pale and hateful in the dark. And he could almost hear Dumbledore's voice…I can help you, Draco…you are not a killer…Jokes? No, no, these are manners. Harry gave a grunting giggle. Dumbledore was running rings around them that night, and none of them knew it.
"Harry? Are you all right?"
"I'm feeling a bit off," he admitted. He couldn't quite catch his breath. Images of darkness kept mixing with the bright light; as if he was flashing between two places at once. He felt sick.
"Do you want to sit?"
Sit? He couldn't sit. He couldn't move. He was frozen all over again.
"There were two more Death Eaters, after Draco. Odd-looking. Like they'd done themselves with magic one too many times. Dumbledore knew them, and they knew him. They wouldn't go near him. And then Greyback came out, in his human form. He still looked bestial. Lupin never looks like that. Greyback looked like he could eat a man whole."
Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little…
Harry tittered again, and the corners of his eyes went white with light. He blinked it back. Hermione's arms went around his middle. Why hadn't he remembered how funny Dumbledore had been?
"It's all right, Harry, I've got you."
She was so close he could smell her skin, feel her warmth through their jumpers. He touched her nose. "When did you get so pretty?" Of course, Hermione had always been pretty, but the browns in her hair and eyes seemed exceptionally bright against the dark of his encroaching memories.
"Just sit here and catch your breath," she said. Harry's head was spinning. He was falling. There was no air.
"There was another Death Eater, too. He was over there. I don't remember him too well. Isn't that odd. Parts of it seem like a dream I had forever ago, and parts feel as if they're happening now. It's happening now. I was so scared." He took a gulp of air. "I'm scared, Hermione."
"I'm here."
"No, you're not."
He couldn't breathe, couldn't blink. Why had Dumbledore frozen him? He couldn't fight like this, couldn't escape. Why wasn't Dumbledore running? They weren't attacking. What were they saying?
"'Severus…Severus, please.' Those were Dumbledore's last words. It was terrifying to hear those words come from Dumbledore. To hear him pleading for his life."
Hermione's breath hitched.
"He blew the door open, and he stood there like the traitor that he was, leering at us all, as if we were less than the filth on his shoes. The other Death Eaters seemed…frightened of him. Odd that, really, to see a thing like Greyback shrink from Snape. And then Dumbledore…"
Avada Kedavra!
"It's a green flash, you know. The Killing Curse. And it's over in a split second. I'd seen it before, with Cedric, but nothing can prepare you for the shock of it. It's an instant of bedlam, and your mind rebels. Your whole body tries to jump back in time to the moment before when it hasn't happened yet. But, of course, you're stuck in reality, and he's dead…suspended, just there." Harry pointed over the battlements. Hermione shuddered against him. She was crying. "Murder shouldn't be that easy."
"Snape just killed him? Without saying a word to him?"
"Without blinking. He's killed before."
"And you were frozen here," Hermione said.
"I couldn't save him."
"No," Hermione whispered, and she pressed her temple against his. "But he was able to save you, wasn't he?"
"It's not a fair trade."
"It might have been the only one he could make. He had faith in you, Harry. Dumbledore always believed in you. I believe in you."
The darkness faded into the clear-skied morning, and Hermione sat between his bent legs on the cold rampart. Wind whipped around them, tugging their hair and clothes. It was cold, and they were both shivering. Hermione had tears tracking down from her red eyes. He held her face, wiped her tears away with his thumbs. They should've been his, not hers.
"Why did you do this with me? It would've been better for you not to know."
"Now you don't have to carry the burden alone."
"I'm supposed to be alone."
Hermione's brows knit in resigned frustration. She reached up to his face and drew a finger along the jagged scar on his forehead. "'And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…'" Hermione quoted. "Harry, you are never alone. You can't be. We all love you too much."
"How do you know that? I-I never told you about the prophecy."
"Dumbledore knew you needed help. He knew how important your friends would be to you, even if you're too thick to figure it out for yourself."
He leaned to her, placed a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips.
"What was that for?" she asked.
"For being such a bloody good friend."
"Well, then," she said, and briefly pressed her mouth to his. There was no lingering, no spark, and when they broke apart they smiled.
"You look good, mate," Ron said, standing behind Harry as they looked in the mirror. Harry ran a hand though his hair. It sprang back into its usual mayhem almost immediately. The truth was, without dress robes Harry looked the same as he always did in a t-shirt and jeans, and school jumper. And even if he did look good, there wasn't any particular reason for it. Ginny would be with Ernie. Tall, handsome Ernie whose dark hair did exactly what he wanted it to all the bloody time.
Ernie was everything Harry wasn't. Or, more importantly, Ernie was what Harry might've been if he didn't have the scar. The earlier calm and acceptance he'd reached in the Astronomy Tower was melting now into fatigue and ennui. Harry couldn't remember the last time he got a full night's sleep, or had a proper meal.
"So…are you taking anyone?" Ron collapsed down on his bed, and flopped backwards. He'd made the question sound casual, but Harry knew that it wasn't.
"Who would I take?" Harry asked.
"Luna?" Ron said, shrugging.
"She'd only want to dance," Harry said, avoiding Ron's glances as much as Ron was avoiding his.
"You're not going to dance, then?"
"What's it to you?" Harry asked.
"Ginny's going with Ernie."
"Yeah. I'd worked that one out on my own, thanks."
"It's just that the two of you have been a bit friendly lately."
"She's my friend, Ron."
Ron gave him a hard look then, and Harry didn't dare glance away. "What happened to swearing off witches?"
"I'm still Hermione's friend, too," Harry said. "Do you have a problem with that, as well?"
Ron was not about to get sidetracked. "You're a rubbish boyfriend."
"Agreed," Harry said, flopping back on his own bed. "But I'm not dating anyone, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"
"Harry," Ron groaned. "You're killing me! She's my sister!"
"What do you want from me?" Harry sat up, exasperated. "Ginny's going with Ernie to the dance! Ernie's her boyfriend!"
"I'm not blind!" Ron sat up, too. "I see the way you look at her! The way she looks at you! I know what those DA practices are all about! You're trying to woo her!"
Only Ron Weasley could say woo and actually mean it. "Would that be so bad?"
"Yeah! If I have to kill you!"
It rankled that Ron was the only one who didn't want Harry and Ginny back together, and the only one who Harry really needed support from. "So, what do you want me to do? Ignore her?"
"Admit it! You still fancy her."
"I love her, Ron."
Apparently this was not the response Ron was expecting because his face went from accusation to stunned horror. "But…but you're not going to…she's with Ernie now."
"Yeah," Harry said. "I know."
"Fine, then." Ron flopped back down and stared up at his canopy. "Well…bloody hell. It…it must be awful."
"Yeah," Harry agreed.
"I think, if Hermione was dating someone else…I don't know what I'd do. I'd go mental."
"You'd try to win her back."
"Yeah. I reckon I would."
There was a handful of minutes where both boys just laid there, each lost in thoughts of their girls. Then Ron sat up, swung his feet off the bed. "But Ginny's not Hermione, and you're not me." And with that, Ron walked out of the room.
It was sunset in the Great Hall. The usual House tables were replaced with what looked like long, flat stones arranged in a circle around the central dance floor, and the usual vaulted ceiling had grown into great, gnarled trees that rained down yellow, red and orange leaves that faded away just overhead. There was music, too, though Harry couldn't quite decide where it was coming from. It had a slow, soulful melody, like wind through stones. It matched his mood.
Students arrived in couples and groups of four, laughing and talking excitedly. There was Seamus and Padma near the punch table, and Neville with that Hufflepuff in Ginny's year – they were laughing together.
Harry's attention was capture over by the door. Ginny came in not smiling, but looking amazing in her green skirt and school robes. How did she manage to make school robes look sexy? Her hair was up and curly for once, and she wore color around her eyes and cheeks. Her mouth was full and rosy and glossy. Harry caught himself licking his lips.
She hadn't seen him yet, and Harry didn't want her to. He wanted to be able to watch her, soak her up. He thought he might die if their eyes locked while she was holding Ernie's arm. Slowly Harry stepped backward, and tried to melt into the darkness near the walls.
"She's very pretty."
Harry jumped. He'd almost stepped on Luna Lovegood. Her hair was up as well, piled so high on her head it looked like a dollop of crème fresh. "Oh. I didn't see you."
"Most people don't," Luna said evenly in her airy sing-song. "Sometimes it's best just to step out of their way."
He nodded absently, not caring that he didn't know what she was talking about. Ernie led Ginny past the punch bowl to where Neville stood with – Vickie she was called. Or Lizzy.
"Oh, good. He's found her, then."
Harry turned to follow Luna's gaze. Ron and Hermione had just walked in. They didn't hold hands or link arms, but it was very clear that they were there together. Hermione made a bee-line for Ginny, and Ron followed slowly, scanning the room. When he found Harry he gave him an approving nod. Harry glanced at Luna. No doubt Ron thought he'd taken his advice. The prat.
"He went spare when Hermione didn't make it to Double Potions this morning. Padma was telling her sister that he kept saying 'They've left without me!' and Professor Weasley kept telling him to sit down and shut up. I can't imagine a professor saying shut up. It seems wholly unprofessional, don't you think?"
Harry hadn't even considered how Ron would take his and Hermione's absence from class. He'd missed so many classes already this year that he hadn't really thought too much about it. But, of course, Ron knew Hermione would never miss class unless she was in the infirmary on the brink of death. Or, if she'd run off to do something dangerous.
"Professor Weasley kept taking points from Gryffindor. Padma said it was at least a hundred, but I can't imagine that's true. And then Ron walked out, and Professor Weasley gave him detention. It must be difficult to have to discipline your brother."
Was she honestly on Percy's side? What about Ron? He must've been going out of his mind with worry. Funny how he hadn't brought it up when the two of them were in the dorm earlier.
Ron had wandered over to the punch table and was busy stuffing small pieces of food in his mouth while Hermione pulled Ginny aside to talk. Ernie seemed happy enough to remain chatting with Neville and…Lucy, was it? Clarissa? Harry's heart beat a little faster as he wondered what Hermione could be saying to Ginny. Would they look his way? Would she catch him staring?
He purposely looked away, and his eyes landed on Tonks. She was hard to miss, really, her hair clashed with just about everything in the room. She was smiling and laughing at something Esmerelda had said. Ez had only the barest of smiles at the corner of her mouth. Percy stood between them, for once not looking like a pompous stick-in-the-mud. When he smiled he looked younger. It was probably the reason he never smiled, Harry decided. Percy looked at Esmerelda and they shared a glance that lingered a little too long.
Normally that sort of thing would've been of little interest to Harry, even less because it involved Percy. But he and Charlie had commiserated over their lost loves, and now Harry felt him a kindred soul of a sort. And Ez…Harry had trouble defining his relationship with her. A reluctant student to her complete madness? Yes, certainly. But there was more there, too, because when Ez touched Percy's arm, he felt both betrayal on Charlie's behalf, and concern for her. Did Ez know what a prat Percy was? Did she understand that he was a minion for the Ministry, and therefore not to be trusted? Tonks knew, of course. She'd gone to school with Percy, and she was close with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. But Ez was an outsider. What the bloody hell could she possibly see in him?
Nothing, Harry told himself. She was just being polite. He was imagining things. She loved Charlie, end of.
"Fancy some punch?" Harry needed a distraction.
"Oh, yes, thank you. I'd really love some punch." Luna beamed at him.
Ron greeted him with a nod and a grunt next to the refreshments table.
"What are Hermione and Ginny talking about?" Harry asked as he poured Luna's drink.
"You, I reckon," Ron said. "But I was dismissed. She's never done that before. Called it girl-talk. What the bloody hell is that?"
Just as Luna accepted her drink, the lights dimmed, and the music faded. A hush swept through the room. Professor McGonagall, in her Headmistress robes, stood at the center of the circular dance floor, with several dozen fire fairies buzzing about her. She seemed to twinkle in the twilight.
"The first dance," she announced, "will be lead by the Head Boy and Head Girl."
"Right, then," Ron said, setting down his plate of stuffed partridge eggs and chocolate pebbles. He took three steps before he realized that Hermione had already taken Ernie's arm, and the two of them were walking towards Professor McGonagall. Hermione threw an apologetic wave of her fingers over her shoulder at him. "What the…bloody hell!"
Harry was less concerned with Ron. If Ernie was dancing with Hermione, then that meant…
Ginny faded back behind the other students watching the Head Girl and Boy. This might be the last time Harry had a chance to talk to her tonight. The music started again, a formal sort of song, and Hermione stepped into Ernie's outstretched arms. With Ron sufficiently distracted, Harry slipped away, behind the on-lookers, along the darkened walls of the Great Hall, and circled around. Why was the room so bloody enormous? It took him precious minutes to make his way close enough, and push his way through until he was standing behind her.
"Dance with me," he whispered in her ear.
She jumped, but he stopped her from turning around with a hand to her shoulder. He slipped back, behind the others, back into the darkness that clung to the walls. And slowly, Ginny took a few steps backwards, and didn't turn to face him until she was sure no one had noticed.
"Are you all right?" she asked. "Hermione told me about the Astronomy-"
"I'm good," he said, quickly silencing that thought. "Dance with me."
"I…I don't know that I should," she said.
"I'm going to win you back," he told her, though he didn't know why. Was it best to warn her, to give her time to concoct a defense strategy?
"I…er…what?"
"I love you, Gin. I want you back."
"But…Ernie-"
"Did you sleep with him this morning?"
"This morning?"
"I don't care if you did. I just want you."
It was too dark to make out her expression, but the fire fairies on the dance floor glittered in her eyes.
"Dance with me," he begged in a whisper. She slipped her arms around his neck. He pulled her close.
The embrace wasn't the most passionate they'd ever shared, but it felt so good to have her body against his. He hugged her, and tried to remember to move his feet to the music. Her cheek was on his shoulder when he felt her sigh.
It broke his heart that he had to steal this moment from some other bloke, and that they had to hide in the shadows. "I've messed everything up, Ginny. I'm sorry. So very, very sorry."
"Don't talk," she said. Her mouth found his neck. Hot breath and moist lips just below his ear; not a kiss, but a command. "Touch me," she whispered against him.
"I am."
"No, Harry. Touch me."
He hesitated. She couldn't mean…could she? His wand hand slipped beneath her school robes and found her waist. He felt up, over her ribs, smoothing her shirt against her skin. He cupped the underside of her breast.
She let out a breath against his cheek. "Squeeze," she said. And then when he did, "Lower."
He slipped his hand down over her firm belly, and he felt a shiver ripple through her. "Lower," she quietly commanded, and his fingers dipped down to the waist of her skirt. Her hands were gripping his shoulders, and he knew that even if they were standing in full daylight their robes were loose enough to conceal what he was doing to her. So, when she said, "Lower," again, he didn't think twice about sliding his hand down the front of her skirt, and lifting the hem.
Her thigh was warm and soft and firm. He loved what Quidditch had done to her body. Her leg felt muscular and solid in his hand. Her bum clenched when he gripped it. He was rewarded with a soft moan in his ear; it went straight to his cock. Was she as aroused as he was? He wanted to know. Harry took a deep breath, and then ran his hand over her hip to cup her hot front, and couldn't help the smile when he found her knickers damp. She thrust against his palm. This was how she wanted him to touch her.
Her breathing turned ragged when he swept her knickers to one side and ran a few fingers through the patch of dense hair beneath. He waited for her to tell him to stop. He listened for any sign that she didn't want his fingers to part her, to slip into her heat, but all he felt were her hands griping his shoulders tighter, and the encouraging buck from her hips. He caressed the smooth, slick flesh until it gave way, and he found an entrance. She clenched around him. She gasped. He pressed his forehead against hers.
"Two," she said. Two fingers. Two fingers inside her. Harry had to swallow his own groan.
He slowly pumped his hand, massaged the tightness, and then pushed a second finger inside her. Her eyes were closed. She shuddered. He eased back, and then thrust in again, and again, and again. Her breathes on his mouth became rapid and shallow.
"Outside," she whimpered. "Oh, shit, touch me on the outside."
She was so hot and slick that he wasn't sure where his fingers were. He did his best to follow her strangled commands: "Higher…higher…back and forth…side to side…oh, shit, faster…"
Every word out of her mouth, every puff of warm, moist air on his face drew his own body tighter and fuller. She strained for him. She bit her lip. "In…out…faster…" His hips began to thrust in time with his hand, but without the pleasure of friction to help him build. It was her tiny noises, her breathes, the feel of her body as she clenched around his fingers that spurred him on. Ginny, in her school robes was the single most erotic thing he'd ever seen in his life.
"Shit!"
She came with a gasp, and a second later she stepped away from him and hurried back to the others. Harry felt the faint tingle of a Cleaning Charm on his hand – she must've cast it as she rushed away. Harry watched her go, realizing that the lights had come up and the music had ended, but not knowing when it had happened. No one seemed to notice their tryst by the wall, though Hermione did see Ginny rushing toward her and Ernie, and she followed a trail back to Harry to see where she'd just come from. Hermione smiled. So did Harry.
But, his erection raged, and as the music started up again, and Ernie's arms went around Ginny's waist, Harry knew he had to get out of there. Dazed with arousal, he headed toward the doors.
"Hullo, Harry!" Charlie came in smiling just as Harry was going out. "How's the party?"
"Brilliant," Harry said, his eyes on the floor.
"Yes, it looks it. Everyone having a good time? Oi! Where are you going?" Charlie caught him by the shoulder and pulled Harry back into the Great Hall. "It's time for some fun, Harry. You've been working too hard these last few weeks, and I'm sorry to say it's only going to get worse from here. So, have a good night tonight. Dance. Let loose. That's what I plan to do."
Harry nodded, but he was dying inside. Not only had he just given Charlie's sister a hand-job, but now that he was sporting a painful semi, and Charlie's hand was on his shoulder, Harry couldn't help but think of Ez's memory and what it felt like to have Charlie's cock inside him. Charlie's big, purple-
"Say, Harry, you all right, mate?"
"Brilliant," Harry said again, trying to figure out how to shrug out from under Charlie's grasp without letting on how unnerved he was.
The music's tempo slowed and the dancers began to thin out. Many students went to get punch, or find a seat at one of the stone tables where bite-sized foods had appeared. Harry thought to take advantage of the distraction and slip out of the Hall, but his eyes lingered on Ginny, now standing very close to her boyfriend, her arms around his waist and her cheek on his chest. Even from across the room Harry could see the fairy lights glittering in her teary eyes. She was thinking about what she and Harry had done, and she was regretting it.
"You look a little peaked."
"Must be the punch."
"Hmm." Charlie looked back out over the dance floor. "Ginny looks like she's enjoying herself. How are things going with her? You both have been dramatically improving in the DA."
"We've been practicing," Harry admitted.
"And talking?"
"Not as much."
"We can work on that."
Ron and Hermione were laughing together as Ron tried several Muggle dance moves Hermione had shown him. They looked like they were having fun.
"You should join them," Charlie urged. "Not all of these songs are couple dances."
Yeah, join them. Esmerelda would have a fit. And Harry's head just might explode. "I'd rather not," Harry said.
"Suit yourself."
"Wotcher, Harry! Oi, Charlie, care to burn the dance floor?" Tonks came up beside them, cheeks flush and grinning from ear to ear. "Do you remember our Equinox Dance? Were we ever this bloody young? Even when we were this young, we couldn't have been this young." She hadn't bothered with her robes, and wore a short, yellow leather skirt, a lime green sleeveless shirt under a loose lavender jumper, and bright blue lipstick.
Charlie put his arm casually over her shoulders, and smiled at her. "You look like you're going to show them how it's done. Danced a lot in the last few years, have you?"
"Loads," she said. "Been thinkin' of giving up my day job, really."
"I always thought you missed your calling."
"Well, the choice between professional party dancer and Auror was difficult, but I…"
Charlie wasn't listening, and the easy grin had gone from his face. When Harry followed Tonks' gaze to where Charlie was staring, his gut clenched. Ez and Percy were dancing with their arms around each other, and talking with their faces close, even though the top of her head barely came up to his shoulder. She shook her head, and a strand of dark hair escaped its clasp and fell over her cheek. Percy brushed it away from her face, said something, and they shared a long gaze. Harry thought for a moment that Percy was going to kiss her, and held his breath as if that could stop the horror from happening.
"Nym-"
"It's not what you think," Tonks said quickly.
"I think my brother is dancing a little too close to Mere. And I think she's letting him."
"Take a breath," she said.
"What? This is something I have to take a breath over? What the bloody hell is going on between them that I'd need to take a breath? Are they dating?"
"They're friends."
"What kind of friends? Friends like you and me? Are they shagging?"
Harry's jaw dropped open, and Tonks gave Harry a nervous glance. "I'm with Remus now," she bit out.
"And if you weren't?"
Tonks shook her head. "Don't ask me these questions. Talk to Ez-"
"Like hell I will!" Charlie glared at Ez, and she jumped like she'd been shocked. She pulled away from Percy, looked directly at Charlie. She'd known exactly where he was the whole time. Or, maybe she heard him. Charlie did look like he was shouting at her, even if his mouth wasn't open. The students continued to dance around her.
"Charlie, stop it," Tonks said, tugging his arm. "Not in front of the students."
"Bloody bitch!" Charlie roared. He turned on Tonks, red-faced and nostrils flaring. "What do you know?" Half the Hall turned at Charlie's outburst.
And then, Professor McGonagall hurried in with an anxious urgency that drew everyone's attention. She motioned to Charlie and Tonks.
"Something's happened," Harry told them. He nodded to the Headmistress, and Charlie and Tonks headed toward her.
"Quickly," Professor McGonagall said, as she led them out of the Hall.
"Not going to come along?" Esmerelda asked as she walked past Harry, taking her time to follow the others.
"I'm not…should I? It's Order."
She didn't stop, but said, "Thought you would," over her shoulder.
Harry was angry at her on Charlie's behalf. What was she thinking, running around with Percy like that? Even if nothing was going on - and Harry wasn't sure he completely believed Tonks - Ez had to know that Charlie would be at the dance. She had to know he'd see her with his brother – his brother, for magic's sake! Harry hurried after her. It was terribly quiet once the Great Hall's door shut behind them. Their footsteps echoed.
"You hurt him, you know," Harry said, catching up to her.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was low and flat. Harry was sure she did.
"Percy's not a bloke you want to get involved with," Harry continued. "He'd sell out his own family for a promotion in the Ministry."
"I know Percy a helluva lot better than you do, Potter. And if that were true, he'd be Minister by now, so watch your mouth."
"But Percy's a berk! The things he said to his parents-"
"There are two sides to that, Harry. I know it's easy for you to romanticize parents, but they're not always the loving, supportive, understanding people we want them to be."
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are great!" Harry insisted. "They're the best bloody parents in the world!"
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Well, they're a lot fucking better than mine, that's for damn sure."
"And Percy-"
"Had his reasons for saying what he said."
"Then you know?"
"Of course. Percy and I are friends."
"Friends," Harry said with a disgusted snort. "You didn't look like friends out there on the dance floor."
"Really?" Esmerelda said, amused. "And how's Miss Granger doing these days? Have any more heart-to-hearts up in the Astronomy Tower?"
"What? How do you know-"
"Relax, Potter. But, if you're going to be best friends with a screamer, you have to know that even chaste kisses will be Broadcast."
"Oh, no."
"Yeah," Esmerelda said. "So forgive me if I don't take your indignation seriously. Charlie is a big boy, and it's time he understood that the sun doesn't rise and set on his male insecurity. He's just going to have to get over himself."
"You wanted him to see you dancing with Percy."
"More like I wanted to dance with Percy, and I didn't care if Charlie saw or not."
"That's bullocks."
"Harry, this is really none of your business. Back off."
They walked together in uneasy silence after that. Harry's mind was full of Charlie and the injustice he'd suffered, and all the things he wanted to say to Esmerelda. So, when they rode the circular stone steps up to Professor McGonagall's office, it took Harry a moment to register that Tonks and Charlie had their wands drawn. When he did, he pulled his out, too, but only then did he see who was sitting in the chair down the length of his wand. Cold adrenaline shot through him, fury raged. Harry couldn't hear anything, see anything other than the traitor Snape.
"Avad-"
Esmerelda stunned Harry before he could get the whole curse out, and he toppled like log off to his right. She caught him by his robe sleeve and held him there, at that precarious angle while she demanded, "What the fuck?"
"It's him," Tonks said, eyes narrowed and angry. "It's Snape."
"Really? Snape?" Ez said. "The same Snape who tried to teach Potter Occlumency by force? That Snape? I've got a bone to pick with you!"
"He killed Dumbledore," Tonks told her.
"Yes, well, I'm sure you've got that end covered," Ez said. "But you, Snape, you sadistic son of a bitch, where the hell do you get off pushing into a kid's head without giving him the proper foundation in Meditation and Obfuscation? How many months did you work with him, and never once did you mention Flannigan's Fist?"
"Mere, not now," Charlie growled.
"Well, if this one," she said, and jangled Harry by his sleeve, "has anything to say about it, there won't be a later, and I've got some things to say to this Snape before the rest of you get your talons in him!"
"But…he killed Dumbledore!" Tonks insisted.
"Who are you?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes at Esmerelda as he looked down his hooked nose at her. His face was just as pale as Harry remembered, and his hair as long and black and greasy as ever. His robes were rough, and he looked as if he hadn't had a meal or a sound night of sleep in a long, long time. Though, he usually looked like that.
"I'm the new you," Esmerelda told him. "What? You didn't think you were irreplaceable, did you? I'm not as universally despised as you seemed to have been, but I'm working on it…what are you...oh, no you don't!"
Snape whipped back in the chair, eyes screwed shut and grimacing. She'd Pushed him out of her head. Esmerelda became Harry's favorite teacher of all time.
"Another example of Flannigan's Fist, Potter."
"Bloody bitch," Snape wheezed.
"We've just met and already with the pet names, eh?" Ez said demurely.
"Enough!" Harry hadn't realized that Moody was even in the room. The ex-Auror had been by the door, and limped around Harry and Esmerelda, his magic eye whirling. "What are we going to do with him?"
"Azkaban?" Professor McGonagall said.
"Azkaban's a bloody hotel, with the way the Death Eaters come and go," Charlie said.
"We can't keep him caged." Lupin. He stood near the fireplace, looking worse for wear. Who else was in the room?
"I don't see why not!" Tonks snapped. "He's a murderer."
"Harry had the right idea of it," Moody grumbled.
"Mere," Charlie said in frustration. He thrust his chin at Harry. "Let him go."
"Mr. Potter shouldn't even be here," McGonagall said, fretting. "He's not Order. And, he's a student."
Esmerelda pulled Harry back on to his feet, and pulled his wand from his hand before she unfroze him. The instant he had his bearings, Harry called his wand, and it shot from her hand to his.
Snape met Harry's level gaze. "Hello, Potter." He sneered when he said it.
Anger and fury and hatred whirled inside Harry; his head throbbed with it, his hands trembled. Three months disappeared, and suddenly it was as if Dumbledore had just been killed and his body dropped over the side of the wall. How could Snape sit there so calm? Had he no conscience? Had he no fear?
"You're a traitor!" Harry stepped to him. "You betrayed us all." Snape seemed bored with Harry's accusations, and it only flamed Harry's rage. "You think maybe there's no proof? That no one knows for certain that you murdered Dumbledore? I was there! I saw you use the Killing Curse!"
Snape's eyes narrowed with disbelief.
And then a red-hot knife sliced into Harry's forehead, and he cried out as he fell.
Horrible, hideous laugher echoed through his head as he once again became aware of his surroundings. Stone vaulted ceiling. Thick carpet. A terrible, pulsing pain in his skull that made his stomach sick.
"There you are." Lupin's gentle voice. "He's coming round. Here. Eat this." A thin square of chocolate was pressed into his hand.
Harry blinked up at the worried faces that surrounded him. He was lying on the Headmistress' Office floor. He had no idea how long he'd been out.
"Give the bloke some air," Tonks said, and she reached down to pull Harry up by his shoulders. "It was the scar, then?"
"Yeah," Harry said. He had to close his eyes to keep from retching. And then he realized that no one had their wands drawn any longer. He blinked. Everyone was still looking at him. "Where's Snape?"
"Moody's taken him to Headquarters until Mere can give him a once over," Charlie explained.
Esmerelda was the one person in the room not focused on him. She sat next to the fireplace in one of McGonagall's straight-back chairs, face in her hands. Harry worried she was crying.
"Is she all right?" he whispered.
Charlie nodded, but glanced anxiously at her.
Lupin encouraged Harry to eat the chocolate, and Harry took a small bite to appease him. "Tell us what you saw."
"Uh…it was Voldemort. He likes it when I'm angry. It excites him."
"Oh, dear," Professor McGonagall said, and then, "Did you see him?"
"Er…no." Harry had to concentrate. "Wormtail and Malfoy. And there was a brazier and a basin of water."
"It's called a khuulae." Esmerelda's voice was unnaturally soft and thin. "It's the darkest of dark magic. Death magic. Please, somebody tell me that You-Know-Who isn't also a Necromancer."
"No, not that we know of," Charlie assured.
"Yes, well, then I guess we know who he's visiting with tonight," Esmerelda said without looking up.
Harry caught the startled look on Charlie's face. "Mere-" he began, but she cut him off.
"Do you remember the smell, Potter?"
Yes, there had been a smell. It had attacked his nose and throat. "Astringent?"
"Witch hazel," Ez said. "Yeah. He's making Infiri. That's a smell you need to remember."
"I do," he told her. Infiri. The living dead. Harry remembered all too vividly the feel of that clammy skin clutching at his ankles, and the acrid sent that lingered even after they'd left the cave. They – him and Dumbledore.
"Mere, if he's in Romania-"
"I know what it means, Charlie," she said wearily. "But there's nothing we can do from here. And we can't ask Magda and Tibor, they've risked too much all ready."
"We should be there-"
"But we're not," she snapped. Then she pressed the palm of her hand to her head. "Fuck, I've got a headache." She was far too pale for her complexion, and her face was heavy with pain. She stood as well. "I need a stiff drink. You coming, Potter?"
To get a drink? She was mad.
And Professor McGonagall seemed to think so, as well. "Certainly, you aren't suggesting-"
"I can't take another hit like this tonight," Ez said, one hand running through her dark hair, the other on her hip. "It caught me off guard, and You-Know-Who's one powerful son of a bitch. If he decides to Read Harry again tonight, I won't be able to protect him."
"We've never connected twice in the same night before," Harry told her.
"You've never Pushed him out before, either," Ez told him. "Well, OK, I Pushed, but he's bound to be curious. He's going to want to know why his favorite boy is now suddenly able to defend himself. And when he comes knocking I want you stinking drunk. You can't get out, and he can't get in."
"Surely, there's some other way," McGonagall said.
"Unless you're an Occlumens," Esmerelda suggested. "Or, you could try Snape. He's pretty good, eh?"
"What?" Tonks looked just as horrified as Harry felt. "He's a Death Eater!"
"Oh, come on. He's no Death Eater."
"He killed Dumbledore!" Harry shouted.
"Yeah, well," said Esmerelda, "I never said he was a great guy. But he is a fair Occlumens."
"I will not have that traitor in my head!"
"Fine, then," Ez said, relieved that they'd finally arrived at the obvious. "Let's find some Firewhiskey. Percy has a stash somewhere, I'm sure."
"Professor Wizmere." McGonagall's voice was now the epitome of authority. "It is improper for a professor at this school to get drunk with a student of the opposite sex."
Ez gave Harry a bemused grin. "She's worried I'll expose you to impropriety." McGonagall would surely have a stroke if she knew what Ez had shown him in their lessons.
"I'll chaperone," Tonks offered.
"I will, too," Charlie said, watching Esmerelda a little too closely.
"No!" both Ez and Tonks shouted simultaneously.
"But-but," McGonagall sputtered. "This is madness! Students and professors cannot drink together! What would Dumbledore say?"
"I think this is what Dumbledore would've called 'taking one for the team,'" Lupin said with a smile.
"Come on, Harry," Esmerelda said. "If we debate any longer my head's going to split open."
"Mine, as well," he said as he followed her out.
Percy kept his Firewiskey and purple Goblin Schnapps in the locked Potions ingredient closet, between the dried haddock scales and grub puss. He handed the bottles over, along with a couple of vials of Hangover Cure.
"Oh, you remembered," Esmerelda said with a thankful smile.
"Not likely I would forget, is it?" Percy said lightly.
"You're the best, Charlie." Her eyes went wide as she realized what she'd said. Percy's face dropped. "I meant Percy. Percy."
"Yeah," he said. "I remember that, too."
"I'm sorry," Ez said. "It's just, he's Broadcasting. He knows in ten minutes I won't be able to hear him, so he's getting it all in now."
"About seeing us tonight?" Percy asked. "I'm surprised he hasn't threatened to duel me."
"Oh, he has," Esmerelda told him. "He's an ape."
Percy laughed. "Drink up, then."
She lifted the bottles. "Cheers!"
They went back to the Defense classroom where the Ez broke into the drink and downed an entire glass before pouring Harry one.
Tonks busied herself with pushing desks and chairs out of the way. "Don't follow her example, Harry. Sip it. You don't want to be sick on that stuff. As much as it burns going down, it feels like raw glass coming back up."
Harry swirled the amber liquid in his glass. It smelled strongly of alcohol and cinnamon. He took a sip, and his mouth burned like he'd bitten into a hundred hot peppers at once. Harry spewed the Firewhiskey, and coughed. His mouth continued to burn. Both witches laughed to themselves.
"Yeah, that first taste is rough," Esmerelda said. She poured herself another glass, and downed it again. Then she refilled Harry's. "The thing is, Goblin Schnapps is said to taste like Goblin ass – not that I've had the pleasure - but, once you've had a couple of these, it tastes like…"
"Ambrosia," Tonks supplied for her.
"Yeah, something like, eh?" Esmerelda smiled.
"Oi, Ez. Ready for the mat."
Esmerelda waved her wand, and the thick green mat appeared. Tonks added some plush pillows and a couple of fuzzy, fluorescent striped blankets, and then she jumped right in. Ez, though, poured herself another glass.
"Still yelling, is he?" Tonks asked.
"The bastard won't shut up. He's…" She stared down at her glass. "What's he talking about?" Then she turned and looked at Tonks. Her eyes were wide, her brows knit. "Nym…what didn't you tell me?"
"Eh?"
"He think's you told me something. Something that would make me use Percy to get back at him." Esmerelda watched her friend's mouth drop open. "Nym? What did he – you slept with Charlie!"
"Bloody hell," Tonks gasped.
Harry held his breath, braced for the storm, but Esmerelda didn't explode. In fact, she looked as if she crumbled a little. She poured herself another drink, and downed it in one go. "When did you sleep with him? Why?" She stared at the glass.
"Ez, it's not…it's not like that."
"Then what's it like?" Esmerelda wasn't looking at her. She wasn't really looking at anything.
"Is he still screaming?" Tonks asked.
"No. I'm sufficiently drunk." She filled her glass again.
Tonks took it out of her hand before the rim reached her lips. "Give it a rest, then." The two witches exchanged a long gaze before Esmerelda shook her head and dropped her eyes.
"I'm too far gone," she said. "I can't Read you."
"We didn't do it to hurt you," Tonks said quietly. "Just like you didn't couple up with Percy to hurt Charlie. He came to my apartment after you'd left, lost and grieving. It was like you'd died."
"Your apartment?" Ez stood straighter. "The image Charlie showed me was in the cottage in Romania. You went to see him in Romania."
Tonks' eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Oh. Bloody hell." She took a step back.
"It was a thing, then. How long did it last?"
"It wasn't a thing," Tonks insisted. "It was just those two times."
"But you went to see him. It was a thing."
"I missed him. He's my best mate. I didn't go to sleep with him. It just happened."
"You love him."
"Not that way."
Esmerelda sighed. "I know. Fuck. I knew he would move on after me, I just didn't…think it would hurt like this. I left him, right?"
"No, Ez, he hasn't moved on. He loves you."
"He loves you, too."
"Not that way."
Ez closed her eyes. "I know."
Harry was horrified to see a tear slip down Tonks' heart-shaped face and dangle from her chin. Was this going to turn into a crying party? Harry would never understand witches. Why weren't they yelling or throwing hexes?
"Here," Esmerelda said, pushing her whiskey to her friend. "Have one."
Tonks shook her head. "Not tonight."
Esmerelda glanced over at Harry and his still-full glass. "You, drink."
He did manage to choke down his first whiskey, though he was sweating profusely by the time he reached the bottom of the glass. The second went down easier. Tonks and Ez applauded and cheered him on. And once he polished off his third, he was ready to try the Schnapps.
When he started to giggle to himself, Tonks led him over to the mat. He collapsed on a green leopard print pillow. It felt so bloody good to be off his feet. His body was like jelly, and it was far easier to drape himself over the pillows than it was to sit up. Actually, it felt quite good.
"My headache's gone," he said.
"Wait 'till morning," Tonks said with a smirk. Tonks was so funny. Harry giggled again.
"Oh, crap. He's a happy drunk," Ez groaned.
"Ez, Ez, Ez, Ez," Harry chanted.
"So are you," Tonks told her.
Ez laughed. "Yeah, I forgot. It's been a while." She dropped down next to Harry, and hugged a blue pillow under her chin.
"You've forgiven me, have you?" Tonks cautiously asked.
Ez sighed. "There's nothing to forgive. I left him. He's not mine."
"No," Tonks agreed. "You were seeing Percy."
Ez popped her head up. It looked like she was doing the math. "Both times?"
Tonks nodded. "You were with Percy, so I thought…I mean, at the time it didn't look like you and Charlie would ever get back together."
"We won't," Ez said.
"Oh, but surely now-"
"No. Not now. Not ever." She rolled on to her back.
Tonks looked lost. "But – but you still love him!"
"Oh, yes, I love him, so fuck all the rest of it? Nym, I left Romania for a reason."
"I've never quite understood what that was," Tonks said.
"That's because I never told you," Ez said flatly. "I'm drunk, not an idiot, and it's none of your business."
"You're the most sober drunk person I've ever known." This bit of wisdom from Tonks left Harry giggling again.
"I do miss him, though," Ez said. "And the sex."
"How did Percy measure up?" Tonks casually asked.
"Well, it's only been the two of them, so I'd have to say…he fell short."
"Oh." Tonks grinned. "Poor Percy."
Ez shrugged. "He did all right. But it wasn't the same. It took a long time for me to figure out why."
"And? What did you finally decide?" Tonks asked.
"Oh, you know." Ez sighed. "He just wasn't Charlie."
"Charlie loves you like his next breath. He was devastated when you left."
"I know. I was devastated when I left, if you'll recall."
"He thinks you coming back now is some sort of sign, like the fates have given you two a second chance."
"Yeah. He's a romantic."
"He loves you, you love him, and you're not even going to give it a go?"
With a moan, Ez draped her arm over her eyes. "He hasn't changed."
"He has!"
"He thinks that I would use Percy in an attempt to punish him for sleeping with you. Charlie has most certainly not changed, and neither has his opinion of me."
"He loves you-"
"He thinks I'm a bitch."
Tonks grinned at her. "Well, you are."
"Here, here!" Harry agreed. "Ez, Ez, Ez, Ez."
Ez peeked at him from under her arm. "Are you still drinking?"
Harry lifted his glass upside down and gave a pout. "All gone."
"Good boy," Ez said.
"Just the two of them? Really? No one else snuck in?"
"There's something about Weasleys," Ez admitted.
"What about giving it another go for the sex?" Tonks negotiated.
"Mmm," Ez practically purred. "Did he do that thing with his thumb?"
"Shit, I loved that."
"Me, too," Ez said, smiling. "He's got amazing hands, that wizard."
"I've got amazing hands, too," Harry thought. And then, when he looked up and both witches were staring at him, he realized he'd said it out loud.
"You got her off, eh?" Ez asked. "Good for you."
"Got who off?" Tonks asked.
His mind was like mush, and he couldn't think of a good way to answer that question. These were professors, not friends, though in his current fluffy state, it was difficult to see that distinction. They weren't behaving very professor-like, and Harry was feeling very friendly.
"He's not talking about Ginny Weasley, is he?" Tonks asked. "Isn't she dating Ernie Macmillian now?"
Ginny and Ernie. Everyone knew about them. Ernie was Head Boy, prince of the whole bloody school, and Ginny was the prettiest girl to ever walk the halls. They were the perfect couple. That was why she wouldn't break up with Ernie, even though Harry had gotten her off at the Autumnal Equinox Dance. That was why she wanted to sleep with –
"Oh, bloody hell!" Harry sat up abruptly, and his stomach tried to come out his mouth. He choked it back.
"What? What is it?" Tonks already had her wand out. "Is it your scar?"
How could he have forgotten? Tonight was supposed to be the night, if it hadn't already happened that morning. He held his stomach; it threatened to come up again. He had to get to her. He had to stop her.
Harry lurched forward on to his knees, and then on to his feet. He fell over the first time, and went slower the second.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Tonks asked, and then turned to Ez. "What the bloody hell is wrong with him?"
"I can't Read him," was all Ez said.
"I've got to find Ginny."
"What's wrong with Ginny?" Tonks grabbed Harry by his shoulder and forced him to look at her. Her face was all out of focus. "Harry what is it? Look at me. Is it your scar?"
How did he make her understand without betraying Ginny's trust? And how the bloody hell was he going to find Ginny when he couldn't even walk straight. His legs and arms were so tired. He felt as if he were made of lead.
"I've only just remembered," Harry said. "I've got to find Ginny."
"Is she hurt?"
"No." And then he wondered if Ernie would be as thoughtless as he'd been. "I hope not."
"We can find her in the morning," Tonks assured.
"It'll be too late. I've got to find her now," Harry insisted.
"Look, I'm sure she's at the dance," Tonks said. "I'll just pop down and see-"
"I've got to go," Harry told her. "It's got to be me."
"He's a belligerent drunk," Ez commented, her arm still draped over her face.
"All right, Harry, easy, now. You can't go anywhere while you're like this. The other students will know-"
"I don't bloody care who knows! Ginny's going to sleep with Ernie tonight, unless I stop her!"
That got Tonks' attention. "Oh. Well, then. I reckon we should try to find her."
"Ginny's dating Ernie, don't forget," Ez said from her back on the mat. "What are you going to say when you find her?"
"Surely there's some sort of school rule against student relations," Tonks said, though she looked at Harry for support. "She is underage."
"And how old were you when you first bagged Charlie?" Ez reminded. "Let her be. If she wants this guy, she'll have him, no matter what you do."
"No," Harry said. He refused to accept that. He met Tonks' eyes. "Are you going to help me or not?"
"You love her?" Tonks asked.
"With everything I am."
"Then I'll help."
"Sucker," Ez accused.
The door burst open then, and Charlie blew in. He quickly took in the situation and then said in no uncertain terms, "Mere, we need to talk."
She didn't even flinch. "You know I can't Read you."
"That's why we need to talk."
"I'm not talking about your brother. That's none of your business."
"Marry me."
That was the last thing Harry remembered from that night.