Let me just quickly thank everyone who is reading and reviewing; it was staggering to find out the next day how many people had read! Well, enjoy!

26.

And so it was the weekend, where this chapter now begins:

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Bea, and Frankie all headed to the Three Broomsticks to guzzle some Butterbeer as it was the middle of October and the wind whipped their faces sharply. The Three Broomsticks, however, was vastly crowded so Harry compromised to meet there later, he was going to take a walk with Bea.

Bea was, of course, surprised at first at her and Harry's quick departure from the group, but she wasn't scared. On the contrary, she was glad to have some time alone with him. They hadn't talked much that week, as it seemed whatever hallway they were in was swarming with other students. Every. Single. Time.

Then again, there had been that absurd rumor about the two of them shaking up in the broom closet. Alright, maybe it wasn't all that absurd, they had been in an empty classroom together for a couple hours for detention…But Harry had been a gentleman and only kissed her on the cheek. Well, at first, anyway…

"So," Harry began as they stepped out of the doorway and into the blustery weather, "where to?"

"Anywhere with heat," Bea replied before the wind stung her face. Harry clasped her hand and led her into Zonko's, which was similarly packed and resembling the Three Broomsticks. Bea shot him a questioning look, but he simply smiled and steered her upstairs to where there was only dusty old boxes for company.

"Wow, very charming Harry," Bea commented on the state of the room, "Dust and spider webs? Must have taken months of precise planning to accommodate this." There was a sweet aroma to the space, but aside from that it was chilly, though much better in comparison with the strong air stream outside.

Harry laughed, for once it was ecstatic and loud, he wasn't afraid of being over heard now, after all it was entirely impossible with the massive herd of students below. "Yeah, thanks for noticing. It's nice when your work is appreciated, forgetting the amount of sarcasm used." He didn't let go of her hand, but now held it gently as they watched their breath rise in the cold.

Now Bea laughed, "Then consider it appreciated. C'mon, really, what's up? Was the attic in the Shrieking Shack taken?"

Harry laughed again, making Bea feel warm everywhere and said, "Well, I just thought that I should warn you."

"Warn me? Of what?" Bea said, but she saw Harry's easy smile slide a little.

"Of the reporters that tried to follow us up here," Harry finished with a sad note.

"Oh," was all Bea could say for moment. Then, "It doesn't matter."

Harry looked at her skeptically, "What do you mean 'it doesn't matter'?"

Bea sighed and smiled meekly, "I already told you, (since you had to ask) that I'm dating you. Period. Whatever comes with it isn't really relevant to me."

Harry stood there staring at her for a moment, opened his mouth to say something, the closed his jaw with a snap. "Oh, come on!" Bea moaned, "You can't do that, just say it! Otherwise I'll have to try and guess what you're thinking."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "You really want to know?"

She grinned and elbowed him, their hands still attached, "Yes."

"You are amazing." There, he said it. Harry watched out of the corner of his eye to see her smile and blush. And incredibly enough he didn't mind, it meant he was the first, the very first, to tell her so. That's all he wanted.

"You too," she replied, not hastily but honestly. Then she laughed, "You want to know something?"

"What?"

"I used to think you were a pompous jerk."

"And I used to think of you as a geek."

"Touché," she said, and they both grinned, their hands squeezing a little tighter. After a silent moment or two, Bea asked, "So, you said something about eating if we feel the urge to feed ourselves."

"Can't believe you remembered that," Harry recalled. "But I get the hint. Where to?"

"Anywhere with heat," they both chorused, Harry remembering her response last time as she expectantly repeated it.

As soon as Harry flung open the door from the candy shop, two reporters stood there, flashing their eager cameras and attacking them with impertinent questions. But Harry never let go of her hand, and it was the first time he didn't have to face the stupid paparazzi alone.

Ron, Hermione, Frankie, and Luna huddled around a small woodsy table at the Three Broomsticks trying to reawaken their numb fingers and noses. As soon as that was accomplished, Frankie asked, "Four Butterbeers, then?" Hermione acutely noticed to whom Frankie's question was asked, (Ron).

"Yeah, I think so," Ron said, looking to Hermione and Luna for confirmation. "Hey, where's Luna?"