AN: Hey, hey readers, I'm at the point where I need to decide how quickly to wrap this up: in two to three chapters, or more like ten. Let me know what you'd prefer in the reviews. Thanks. DDD
The first day of school after Christmas holidays was very odd for Harry Potter and his best friends. For everyone's sake, Ronald and Hermione's fake dating act consisted of little more than making sure Harry didn't sit between them in class, and holding hands when moving through the corridors, all the while taking care not to make any eye contact with anyone anywhere.
Harry scoffed at their pained faces as they made their way, hand in hand, to the potions lab. "I'm not sorry for you," he said. "You both deserve it."
At the sight of them, there was some whistling and whispering among the rest of the students in their year, but no one seemed surprised that Ronald Malfoy and Hermione Granger were finally trying it on. It had been almost five years of bickering and flirting, and the memory of their jealous public row at the Yule Ball was fresh enough to make their new status convincing. The idea of the pair of them becoming a couple was easy enough to accept, even if they did look terribly awkward once they were actually together.
Perhaps no one but Ronald and Hermione themselves noticed the way Pansy Parkinson would suddenly warm up to her ex-boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, draping her arm over his shoulder, whispering with her mouth against his ear, her fingers in his hair every time Ronald and Hermione had to touch each other.
"Give it a rest, Pansy," Draco finally whispered back to her in their last class of the day. "You're doing such a thorough job, no one's ever going to believe they fancy each other. Give them a little space."
She sat back, pouting. "This whole sham is easier for you because he's your brother. He loves you and you can trust him. Granger has no love for me. That's for certain."
Draco snorted. "No, it's harder for me because he's my brother. Especially now that we understand just how truly he is my brother. Whatever she likes in me, she can probably find in him as long as she doesn't mind if freckled."
Pansy wasn't convinced. She planted both her elbows on the desktop in front of them, peering across the classroom at Ronald's profile as he spoke to Harry. "Your brother is nothing like you, once the snogging starts," she said. "He's more forceful, almost wild, more to my taste. He's positively, just so - by the stars, when will this class end?"
Draco shuddered. "I won't apologize for not wanting to eat you alive. Or maybe some of us just never had to be forceful with you."
Pansy punched his bicep hard enough to make him cough out a breathy kind of almost yelp.
Ronald knew the sound well and spun around on his stool to glare at them. Draco waved it off and Pansy nodded reassuringly. Ronald turned back when Hermione tugged at his arm.
After a long day of tagging along on this strained, phony show of affection, Harry was exhausted. When he came into the common room after dinner to find his best friends squashed into an armchair together, trying not to look annoyed as they read from the same charms textbook, he knew he couldn't bear any more of it today.
"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione called after him. "You've got your - er - remedial potions lesson with Snape in half an hour."
"I won't miss it," he said, already backing toward the door. "I'm just nervous, I guess. Can't sit. I'm taking a walk."
Her voice was still ringing after him as he ducked through the hole. "Half an hour! Thirty-two minutes, to be precise!"
It was good to be away from them, but Harry wasn't sure where to roam. January nights were too cold for walking outside, so he set off through the corridors, like one of the ghosts only much more quietly. He passed by the stairs, unwilling to begin the descent to Snape's office where his first Occulmency lesson would take place. Not yet. He kept to the upper floors, where the tower dormitories were, distracting himself, planning for the next DA meeting everyone was clamouring for.
All at once, a voice called his name. It was Ginny Weasley, standing beside the door marked with the eagle knocker that barred the entrance to Ravenclaw tower. "Hey, Harry," she said. "You alright? You look tormented."
He huffed, remembering Rita Skeeter's widely circulated descriptions of him last year. "Yeah, that's my look. Or so say all the papers."
She laughed and shoved at him. "Alright now, spill it, Potter. Everyone's saying Hermione agreed to date our Ron."
He nodded. "Looks like it, yeah."
She shook her head. "And here we thought she was such a smart girl. Must be toughest on you though. Gooseberry and all."
He shrugged, muttering meaninglessly.
"Honestly, I can't believe it," Ginny said. "Truly, I can't. I was happy for Hermione at first, since she'd fancied him so much the past year. But that was before I saw them together. All day they both looked like they were suffering. They've got the same look Fred or George would get when they'd row with Percy and Mum would force them to hug and get along."
Harry had never seen it, but he could picture it all the same, and laughed. It was good to be laughing again.
Ginny went on. "It's odd, don't you think? Ron and Hermione used to have some real chemistry. It was rather sweet. But that was before. Grew out of it, I reckon. Shame."
"Chemistry?" Harry said. What in the world did sweet, shy Ginny Weasley know about romantic chemistry. Only she wasn't shy anymore. She was like this, funny and frank and - and rather pretty, now he thought of it.
Just then, the Ravenclaw door opened in Harry's face, cutting off his view of Ginny. On the other side of it, a tall, dark boy had stepped out. He didn't see Harry and was rushing at Ginny, taking her by both hands, looming over her. As the door drifted closed, Harry saw it was Michael Corner, the boy who had been sitting with Ginny at their first DA meeting in Hogsmeade. He looked like he was about to swallow her but she ducked and called his name. "Michael, look. Harry's here."
He checked himself, straightening away from her. "Oh. Evening, Potter."
Ginny had taken her hands from Corner's and was turning him around by the shoulders. "Why don't you go on up and tell Cho that Harry is here to see her. He's having a rough day and needs some cheering up. Knowing Cho, she'll be the same way. Go on then."
There was nothing for Corner to do but obey. The door closed behind him again, and Ginny turned back to Harry. Her smile was set like a challenge, as if she was daring him to say something about finding her here waiting to be pawed by Michael Corner. "Yes, there's nothing like a pretty Ravenclaw when you're lonely, isn't that right, Harry?"
He sputtered stupidly. Michael Corner? Pretty? What was she saying?
Ginny answered before he could ask. "Corner and I have been going out since school started in the fall," she said. "Or maybe you hadn't noticed."
The part about whether Harry had noticed Ginny with another boy seemed like the biggest challenge of all. But he wasn't afraid when he answered, "No, I hadn't."
Ginny's fierce look faltered just a little.
"Never would have suspected it," he admitted again. "I always assumed the reason Corner couldn't hit you with anything during DA practices was the most obvious reason: the fact that you're the best at dueling out of the whole lot."
There was a time, barely remembered now, when Ginny would become speechless and blush whenever Harry spoke in her presence. She'd outgrown it ages ago, but a flash of it reappeared now, like the painful twinge of an old injury. She shook her head, as if to clear it away. "Harry Potter, you - "
The door was creaking open again and Michael Corner was returning, Cho Chang close behind him. Without looking back at Harry, he took Ginny by the hand and towed her along the corridor as she called out her goodbyes.
Harry was left alone with Cho, her eyes bright and expectant. But what did Ginny expect him to do with Cho, now that she'd been produced?
"Hi Harry," Cho beamed, as if she hadn't been crying the last time he'd seen her.
There were some awkward negotiations wherein they agreed to spend Valentine's Day together in Hogsmeade. And when that was over, all Harry had left to say was, "Um, fancy a quick walk. I mean, quick as in short, not quick as in fast paced. Because, um, I was actually just passing by on my way to Snape - to Snape's office, for remedial potions in twenty minutes."
She looked dismayed on his behalf. "Snape? Oh Harry, how awful for you."
"Yeah, I'm quite - " he swallowed, almost choking on his own saliva, "tense."
"So," she began as they set off. "Everyone's looking forward to the next DA meeting. They really are brilliant. I've never been able to - "
"Stun anything before," Harry finished for her. "Yeah, I remember. The things you say to me - they're - memorable."
Cho gave a nervous but happy laugh. "Oh. Well, remember this then. You're a far better teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts than Umbridge will ever be. It isn't even close."
He had to accept that. Was this what dating was? Exchanging compliments until you both liked each other more than anyone else? Was this what those Slytherins had done to Ronald and Hermione? It didn't seem very likely.
With a start, he realized it must be his turn to compliment her. "It'll be nice when quidditch starts up again," he said. "I can properly watch you play. Our houses face each other next, don't they? Sorry, I should know that. But it's been hard for me to keep up with the schedule ever since…"
No, he'd fumbled it - brought the conversation back around to poor little Harry Potter.
Cho made a sweet, unhappy sound. "It's not fair, Harry. Umbridge is the worst. But Ginny is doing well as seeker in your place. She beat Malfoy in the opener, not that he was trying very hard."
Harry had forgotten about that and smirked. "It wouldn't have mattered if he had been trying. Ginny's great," he said. "In every way. Her whole family is, really."
This was a new and different kind of conversational misstep for Harry, this over-complimenting of another girl.
Cho took a deep breath and sat on the windowsill at her side. Harry stopped next to her but did not risk looking her in the eye. "It's easier for some of us to be great," she said. "Especially Ginny Weasley with her good parents. They're so good, not even Ronald could turn out bad, no matter what the Malfoys might have taught him."
"Yeah, but - those Weasleys, they're not just following their parents," Harry insisted.
Cho shrugged, pausing long enough that Harry looked up at her face. "In a way," she said, "we're all just following our parents. Think about the members of the DA, Harry. Most of them are people like the Weasleys and like Cedric was. He would have joined, I know it."
At the mention of Cedric, Harry began to shift uncomfortably on his feet.
Cho went on. "Those kinds of people have good parents who teach them what's right and how to stand up for it. Even my parents are good, though they aren't too brave - worried about their Ministry jobs. But not everyone has that. There're people like Crabbe and Goyle whose parents teach them to stand up for all the wrong things. And then there's you, and the Muggleborns, who don't have anyone and to tell them how to be."
She reached along the sill and covered his hand with hers. "We're all following our parents, but people like you, Harry, you're following your own good hearts. And that's what makes you special."
Of all the compliments he'd ever received, this one might have been his favourite. It was better than being told he was a good flyer, or a great wizard, or even that he had his mother's eyes. It was such a good compliment he was turning his hand beneath hers to hold onto it properly, with all the care and longing Ronald and Hermione hadn't been able to muster today.
He was pulling Cho toward himself, stepping closer to her, his eyes closing sooner than last time, more sure of what was happening, and what he had to do. Her mouth touched his, and he opened to kiss her. She was soft and beautiful, still wet but with a warm intimacy, not an erratic leaking of tears. He held her closer this time too, no light passing between their bodies where he pressed her against his chest. Cho Chang, saying nice things to him, not dating a Slytherin he hated, letting him run his hand down the impossibly smooth curtain of thick black hair falling over her back. She had mentioned Cedric's name, but only once, and without any tears. Tonight, this kiss was just for him, for his good heart.
And then he was wondering, somewhere high in his brain as his appetites worked his lips against Cho Chang's, if Ginny might come back and catch them like this.
He broke away. "Sorry," he said. "Snape's lesson - "
"There's still five minutes," she said, her arms closing around his neck now.
He couldn't argue with that.
"Can I turn the page now?" Hermione asked from where she was wedged between Ronald and the side of the armchair.
"Please yourself. I'm not reading it."
"Ronald!"
"What? I'm sat here with you, keeping up appearances, like I'm supposed to," he said. "Do you think all of Gryffindor has seen us yet? You think it'd be okay if I - you know - went off and - read a different book for awhile?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not holding you captive, if that's what you mean. Go on. But give me a tiny kiss on the face before you leave. Like you'd kiss your sister, only not so anyone knows it's like kissing your sister."
"Hermione, when was the last time you saw me kiss my sister? Never, that's when."
"Well then think of the last pure kiss you received from someone roughly your own age. Where did that come from?" she said, turning the page. "Do you even remember?"
"Easy. That was you," he said. "That peck before the quidditch season opener. I was shocked by it, but not really - well, you know. You were there too. It was sweet, but lacklustre."
The charms book slammed shut. "Lacklustre?"
He gave a wary smile. "Yeah. It was nice and all, just not… I mean, it was a good thing to find out - a hint that we - that we're such good friends."
She raised the book as if to swat him with it, but set it down when he threw his leg over her knees and patted her hair. "But this is nice, right?" he said. "There's no need to be uncomfortable with each other. I could get used to you and me like this, cuddly friends. No fighting allowed."
"Just try me, Ronald," she said. "Go read your other book. I'll meet you in the library later to start the DADA homework and meet Harry after his lesson."
Ronald groaned but smacked a dry kiss against her forehead in parting before squashing her even farther into the chair as he stood to leave.
As the chair emptied and she pulled in her feet to curl up in it, she fingered the spot on her head where Ronald had kissed her. No moisture, no drama. Maybe this was rather nice. And she could get used to it.
By the time Draco's signal finally came through Hermione's galleon, Ronald and Pansy were already in the vanished room, spending time alone together. It meant Hermione had to meet him elsewhere, in the little-traveled stairwell above the kitchens. It smelled like boiled potato water but she was happy to be there anyway, standing on a stair above Draco, face to face, greeting him with a kiss.
Maybe they'd wound themselves up, watching frustrated as they each touched someone else all day, but the kiss was intense, like those kisses from the library, months ago, when they could still count exactly how many they'd had. From where she stood above him, she raised her foot and hooked her heel into the back of his knee. He swayed closer to her, voicing his approval without words.
Even so, she broke away to speak - or, tried to, talking against his mouth as he continued to kiss her. "Mm-Malfoy, am I a bad kisser?"
He didn't hesitate. "No," he said, letting her lip slip free of where he'd been holding it lightly between his teeth. "Not even when you won't stop talking."
She smiled. "Good."
But then Draco was breaking away, his posture stiffening. "Why? Who told you that? Did - don't - did Ronald kiss you?"
"No, no, no," she hurried to say, dropping kisses all over Draco's scowling eyebrows. "But we did talk about that time I kissed his cheek for luck before quidditch. You were there. It was in the dining hall. Ronald said it was 'lacklustre.'"
Draco's shoulders relaxed, his mouth falling on hers again. "That's good," he said. "He's got no business feeling any - lustre for you. Especially since, by that time, you had already fallen hopelessly, irretrievably for me."
She laughed. "You want all my lustre for yourself?"
"Doesn't matter if I want it. It's mine all the same."
"Shut up."
They carried on until the time came when Harry's lesson would be ending, and she ought to be in the library with Ronald, waiting for him. Draco had come along but he was sitting at a table with Pansy and Nott, watching across the open space in the centre of the library when Harry finally appeared.
Harry looked awful, pale, his hairline damp with sweat. The lesson had been even worse than he'd feared - almost violent, no tenderness of encouragement from Snape at all, only cruelty. But Harry had learned something.
The "weapon" Sirius had spoken of at the end of the summer - the thing Voldemort wanted to bring to the battle this time that he hadn't had before - was not something buried in Harry himself. It was an object, an actual thing that could be held, but not by just anyone, and hidden, but not just anywhere. Thanks to the interference of Snape's lessons, Harry knew where it was. It was in London, at the Ministry, deep, deep in the earth, in the Department of Mysteries, behind the door Mr. Weasley had been protecting when he was attacked by a snake possessed by Voldemort.
"Well, we can't do anything about this weapon until we know what it is," Hermione said. "If you went to the Ministry yourself, you'd just run into a member of the Order protecting it, wouldn't you? Or, if they've given that up since Mr. Weasley got hurt, and you could get past the door, would you know the weapon if you saw it? No, we're not ready. We need to think. We need to plan."
The word "plan" never failed to have an exhausting, disheartening effect on Harry. He slumped against the library table, his glasses pressing painfully into his temple.
"Come on, mate," Ronald said, standing up as Pansy watched him move. "Let's head back to the common room. You did good tonight. It's enough."
But at the common room, Fred and George were in full showmen mode, demonstrating their new headless hats, hawking them to the gathered crowd. Ronald was relieved they weren't selling love potions. Hermione was relieved they weren't recruiting first years as test subjects. But Harry couldn't bear the ruckus and went right up to bed.
Ronald and Hermione sunk back into their armchair, which was actually the perfect place to hold a secret conference in a crowded room.
"We need to activate Draco, don't we?" Ronald said. "We need him to go back to the manor, snoop around, ask some questions, all innocent like, and see if he can find out what You-know-who is looking for. Until we know that, there's not much point trying to get ourselves behind that door he's been dreaming of all year. We don't even know if it's worth the trouble."
Hermione frowned. "Activate him? Your brother is not a robot."
"A what?"
She rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Just remember how dangerous your house is now. If You-know-who is there, if won't be like you remember it."
"Him? In my house?"
"Well, he has to be somewhere. And we can be almost sure your Auntie Bella is at your house. She's the next worse thing to You-know-who. If we send Draco off into that, he might never be the same. They might..." She couldn't finish, remembering the taut, smooth length of perfect, unmarked skin on Draco's left forearm.
Ronald nodded miserably, at a complete loss. He knew by now when to keep quiet and let the both of them think.
Hermione's hand clamped on his knee. "Ronald!" she said. "Remember what you said, when you were explaining it all to Harry? You told him to think of Draco as another Snape."
"Right. He hated that."
"Yes, but maybe that's where we need to start anyway. Maybe we get Draco his own lessons with Snape."
Ronald was getting it. "Like, spy lessons? Two-face training?"
She nodded. "Yes. We have to. Maybe Occulmency too. You said Draco might have a natural talent for it. Whatever he needs to know, Snape could teach him. He has to. I can't see how else Draco can help and still make it out unscathed."