Hermione Granger walked through the empty corridors of Hogwarts castle, heading for Professor McGonagall's office. It was the evening of New Year's Day, and she had arrived at Hogwarts a couple of hours before. Due to the heightened security measures, she had been escorted on the Knight Bus by Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Kingsley hadn't spoken to her much, but Hermione knew this was for security as opposed to any coldness from him. At least, she hoped. She had no idea whether or not Kingsley had been informed about why she was arriving at Hogwarts early.

The drizzle softly pattered against the glass of the windows as Hermione walked along. She wasn't surprised that the castle was so empty; almost none of the students who had left for the holidays had returned yet. There were maybe a couple of students of each house at Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall's office loomed large ahead of her; the heavy oak door resolute and sturdy. Hermione swallowed nervously, and then knocked on the door.

'Enter.'

Professor McGonagall looked up from her desk, as Hermione sat down in the seat in front of her.

'Your wand please, Miss Granger.'

Numbly, Hermione handed it over.

'If I'm not mistaken, dragon heartstring, yes?'

Hermione nodded.

Professor McGonagall opened a drawer in her desk, and placed the wand inside, before closing it with a click.

'Your wand will be given back to you at the end. Do you have any questions?'

'Yes,' Hermione said. 'One thing that you didn't discuss during our meeting in Professor Dumbledore's office last term was… well, why am I not being prosecuted by the ministry over this? As of last September, I am now a legal adult in the wizarding world.'

'You are correct, Miss Granger,' Professor McGonagall said. 'In normal circumstances, you would likely be facing a disciplinary hearing at the very least, despite you still being a student. However, we do not live in normal circumstances.'

'How so?'

Professor McGonagall did not answer for a moment, as if calculating what to say.

'I'll be frank with you, Miss Granger. The current efforts against the forces of dark magic have made this entire affair very complex, from a political standpoint. Many older pureblood families have ministry connections, and… well, Professor Dumbledore feels that the matter of your attack on Mr Weasley may not be viewed in the most… unbiased way.'

Hermione took a moment to respond.

'Because I'm muggle-born and he is a pureblood?'

'I'm afraid so. It would be used as a show trail; a way of making assumptions about muggle-born witches and wizards that could be… politically dangerous, given the current climate. The last thing the ministry wants is a disciplinary hearing about a muggle-born attacking a pureblood classmate.'

Hermione nodded. She had surmised as much. No wonder this matter was being kept within Hogwarts as much as it could be. It still didn't feel right, though.

'Do you have any other questions?'

'Yes,' Hermione said. 'What exactly will these detentions include, if I'm not going to be writing lines?'

As if in response, Professor McGonagall stood up, and walked over to a large basin placed on the floor a few feet from her desk.

'Miss Granger, do you know what this is?'

'A pensieve, Professor.'

The head of Gryffindor house nodded.

'We'll be going over your memories of the event. I find that an outside perspective can shed new light on a situation.'

Hermione didn't say anything. She already hated her own actions from that evening as it was; what else could a perspective outside her own head do? But she didn't object. She knew Professor McGonagall had her reasons.

'Please come and stand next to me.'

Hermione did so, her stomach numb.

Professor McGonagall turned to her.

'Do I have your consent to extract the memories, Miss Granger?'

Hermione nodded.

'In that case, please focus on the evening in question.'

The head of Gryffindor house raised her wand, and placed it against Hermione's temple. Hermione felt the strange sensation of a memory being brought up from her subconscious. Professor McGonagall pulled her wand away, trailing a softly shimmering thread of light that Hermione knew to be her own memory of the night of her attack on Ron.

Gently lowering the memory into the pensieve, Professor McGonagall began to move it around under the surface. The memory gently became absorbed. Hermione could make out indistinct shapes as the recollections swirled on the surface.

'Miss Granger, if you would please place your head in the pensieve?'

Hermione took one last steadying breath and felt her feet leave the floor. It was going to be a long evening.

'Hello, Ronald.'

'Hey,' Ron said, looking up at her from his seat at the Gryffindor table. 'How was your journey back?'

'Quite ordinary,' Luna replied. 'May I join you?'

'Course,' Ron smiled, patting the empty space next to him. 'Come on, you must be starving after the floo ride.'

Luna sat down next to Ron, and the two exchanged a smile. Ron then pulled a plate towards her, and began to pile food onto it.

Ginny smiled to herself. It wasn't that common for cross-house couples to eat with each-other at meal times, but Luna had never been one for convention. It was the first day they had all been back at Hogwarts; lessons would be starting the next morning.

Ron finished placing baked beans onto Luna's plate. She thanked him and began to eat.

Hermione felt her stomach squirm with jealousy as she watched the two out of the corner of her eye. She was seated right at the other end of the table, away from most of the other Gryffindors.

The bushy-haired witch put down her cutlery and climbed out of where she was sat, walking through the great hall and towards Gryffindor Tower. Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw Ron's head turn slightly as she passed him.

Stop it! Hermione told herself. What right did she have to get jealous? Luna was dating Ron; she was at liberty to eat with him at mealtimes. Hermione had lost any right to get jealous.

Maybe… maybe it wasn't so much the romantic side of it, though. Maybe it was just the fact that Ron had been Hermione's best friend for years, and now… now they weren't even speaking to each other. She missed him. She missed being able to make him laugh, and him making her laugh. She missed the two of them working together to help Harry with his problems. She missed those long evenings in the common room just relaxing and spending time together.

She wanted her best friend back. But she knew she couldn't ask that of him. She had hurt him too much to be let back in with no hard feelings. The worrying thing was; she knew that Ron would do that. But she couldn't do that to him. He was too forgiving for his own good, and… well, she couldn't just ride roughshod over his feelings like that. It wasn't right.

This had been one of the things that she had discussed with Professor McGonagall during the detention earlier that week. After viewing Hermione's memories from the evening of her bird attack, they had talked about how she had acted in the situation, and why she had felt it was right for her to do so. From a perspective outside of her own head, the attack had been calculated and yet almost instinctive on Hermione's part. After leaving the pensieve, she had wobbled unsteadily over to a chair and had been forced to wait for her stomach to stop churning. She hadn't vomited, but she had felt very close to doing so.

It was terrifying. No wonder Ron had been terrified of her the next day. No wonder Harry had barely spoken to her since. She hadn't realised that she could come across as that vengeful and cruel, but it was impossible to ignore now. She had to be better than that.

Professor McGonagall had seemed pleased that Hermione had grasped this so quickly. The head of Gryffindor house had asked her how the outside perspective had helped alter her perception of the attack, and Hermione had nodded, her eyes wide.

Well, it was all well and good knowing that she had to be better than that, but she needed to actually show that she could be. That she was willing to put the work in and never behave in that way again.

After arriving back in the common room, Hermione sat down in the sofa in front of the fire. The large back of the sofa obscured her from the eyes of the rest of the common room, and she was thankful for it.

'How is Ron doing, Nev?'

Hermione's eyes pricked up. That was Parvati. Judging from where her voice was coming from, she was stood near the comfy chairs by the window.

'He's alright,' Neville replied, his voice coming from the same place. 'Well, considering.'

'Yeah, considering his best friend attacked him just cause he got some attention for once.'

The bushy-haired witch felt her stomach fill with lead. That was Lavender. Hermione estimated she was stood with Parvati.

'Well, yeah,' Neville said. 'But, I mean-'

'Don't act like what she did wasn't horrible,' Lavender said, stiffly. 'I've seen his scars from her canaries; it took a powerful glamour charm to cover them up. She put him through the ringer.'

'I never said she didn't,' Neville replied. 'I just know that she feels sorry about it.'

'Good,' Lavender's voice was firm. 'She should.'

'Did you see her leave the Gryffindor table after she saw Ron and Luna chatting?'

'Maybe she had just finished her food?' Neville said.

'Or she was jealous,' Lavender replied. 'Can't imagine why; she lost any right to be jealous last term.'

Hermione nodded sadly to herself.

'The heart wants what it wants, I suppose,' Parvati said. 'These things are complicated. Especially between Hermione and Ron.'

'Where is Ron anyway?' Neville asked, clearly hoping to move the topic onto something else. 'He's usually here with Harry at this time. He asked to borrow one of my back issues of "Quidditch Monthly".'

'Padma's doing a prefect patrol with him this evening.'

'Oh, yeah,' Lavender replied. 'I heard the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw prefects have been asked to do a rotation of patrols.'

Hermione sighed quietly to herself. She missed prefect patrols with Ron. No, that wasn't right. She missed Ron.

The castle was empty as Ron met Padma in the entrance hall.

'Er, hi,' he said, awkwardly. He'd never really talked much to Padma. She wasn't someone who really hung around the Gryffindors, aside from when she was occasionally spotted chatting to Parvati. 'Thanks for waiting.'

'Hello,' she said. 'Did you have a good holiday?'

Ron shrugged.

'Yeah, not too bad. You?'

Padma nodded.

'Shall we start patrolling, then?'

'Might as well.'

The two set off through the corridors, checking each classroom to make sure students weren't sneaking around after curfew. In the past, couples had often tried to get away with snogging in the classrooms after dark. Ron had spent most of his prefect rounds in fifth year having to send disappointed couples back to their common-rooms. It wasn't his idea of fun.

'So… how are things with Luna?'

Ron felt his ears go pink.

'Er, fine, I think.'

'Oh, don't look all worried,' Padma chuckled. 'You two are cute together; I was just wondering.'

Ron shrugged.

'I dunno; never been in a relationship before.'

'So, you and Granger never…'

'What? Me and Hermione?' Ron asked. 'No; we've only ever been friends.'

'It didn't seem that way at the Yule Ball.'

Ron felt his face go red.

'Er, sorry,' he mumbled. 'I should have asked you to dance, at the very least.'

'That's fine, Ron. I know things have always been… complicated with you and Granger.'

'Yeah, well…my own bloody fault for not asking her to the ball. You shouldn't have been dragged into it.'

'I suppose. But… did she ever tell you that she wanted to go with you to the ball?'

'Well… no, but…'

'You're not a mind reader, Ron. How were you supposed to know?'

'Doesn't excuse the way I acted.'

'We were a lot younger then. And you still made things up with Granger afterwards, didn't you?'

'Yeah.'

The two of them walked in silence for a while. Ron's mind drifted back to the aftermath of the Yule Ball. Him and Hermione had made an unspoken agreement never to talk about the ball, but they had still been friends. He hadn't stopped speaking to her over it. It wasn't her fault that Krum fancied her.

'It's kinda funny, actually.' Padma said, as they checked another classroom. 'I always assumed you and Granger were sneaking off to snog during your prefect patrols.'

Ron's ears went pink again.

'Oh, ha ha.'

'I'm serious. The rest of the prefects all thought you two were… you know.'

'Really? Wasn't it the gossip that she and Harry were together?'

'What, that rubbish Rita Skeeter kept publishing during our fourth year?' Padma replied, sounding horrified. 'No. You only had to see the three of you together to guess that Harry was the third wheel.'

Ron didn't say anything. He'd tried to never pay too much attention to gossip. Had it really been so widely believed that he and Hermione were an item?

Also, why should he care? That had all happened so long ago, or it felt that way, at least. Hermione was no longer his friend, and he doubted she ever would be again.

Still, it was something to think about. If it was so obvious to everyone-else, why had Hermione never seemed to notice? It wasn't like he was a master of subtlety, try as he might. Surely, she must have noticed?

Or… maybe she had, but had been just like Ron; too terrified to make a move just in case she was wrong. Hermione had always had a fear of failing, and this wasn't something you could study for. It was all-or-nothing. And Hermione hated things that she couldn't plan for.

Ron sighed. Despite himself, he still missed her.

Ginny climbed through the portrait hole and entered the common room. She spotted Neville waving to her from some of the comfy chairs near the window. Parvati and Lavender, who were stood nearby, bade him their goodbyes, and left for the girls dormitory staircase.

'Hey, Nev,' she said, as she approached.

'Hello. You okay?'

'Urgggh,' Ginny groaned, sinking into a seat next to him. 'No; O.W.L revision is a pain in the arse.'

Neville smiled sympathetically.

'Would you like some help with your Herbology?'

Ginny smiled. Neville was a sweet bloke.

'Nah, I'm good, but thanks for offering, mate.'

She gently eased her aching feet out of her shoes, and stretched her toes out. Her brain ached with revision, and it was nice to feel the cosy warmth of the fire.

'Saw you chatting to Parvati and Lavender,' she said, after a while. 'Bit of a ladies man, eh?'

Neville's round face blushed red.

'Don't be silly,' he mumbled, looking embarrassed. 'Besides, we were talking about what's happened with Ron and Hermione.'

'Oh, right?' Ginny said, cautiously. 'Why?'

'Just wondering how Ron's doing. I think Lavender fancies him a bit.'

'Oh, brilliant,' Ginny said, sarcastically. 'Ron's got enough girls pining after him without Lavender throwing her hat into the ring.'

'No, she knows Ron's not gonna just drop Luna.'

'Good. He and Luna are sweet together.'

Neville put down his quill and leant forward hesitantly.

'Ginny, didn't… didn't you used to want Ron and Hermione to get together?'

'Well, duh, but that was before she-'

'I know, I know,' Neville said, patting her soothingly on the arm. 'C'mon, Ginny; you really think I believe he should accept her back with no questions asked?'

'Of course not,' Ginny said, hotly. 'But Ron's too forgiving with her! It's not healthy if he's dating someone who walks over him all the time and never lets him stand up for himself.'

'Even if Hermione feels bad about it?'

'That doesn't matter! That doesn't take back what she did, and it doesn't stop her from potentially doing it again!'

Neville raised his hands in a placating way, and Ginny sighed. She shouldn't be yelling at Neville about this when he had only asked. Her brain was already swamped from O. , and her frustration was bleeding out into everything else.

'Sorry,' she said, quietly. 'It's… it's just a bit much at the moment.'

'It's okay, Gin,' Neville said, fairly. 'Maybe you should go and have a bath; help calm yourself down.'

Ginny nodded.

'That sounds like a good plan. What about you?'

'Gin, I'm flattered, but Dean would kill me.'

Ginny laughed.

'First Harry and now you; why is everyone around here after my boyfriend?'

Neville chuckled, as the redhead playfully shoved him.

Harry was sat in the Gryffindor common room in one of the comfy chairs by the fireplace. The rest of Gryffindor has slowly drifted off to bed as the evening wore on. It was pretty miserable weather, as was common for Hogwarts at that time of year. No-one had much interest in doing anything. After walking Luna back to Ravenclaw Tower, Ron had turned in early.

Harry was just about to follow Ron upstairs, when Ginny wandered over and sat down in the seat next to him.

'We need to talk.'

Her tone was so serious that Harry didn't even blush, as he would have done normally when Ginny appeared out of nowhere.

'About… what?'

Ginny looked around the common room, which was now almost empty aside from the two of them. Dean, who was starting to walk up the boys dormitory stairs, gave Harry a slightly suspicious look.

'Quidditch stuff,' Ginny said, loud enough for Dean to hear.

Dean still didn't look convinced but, at Seamus' urging, followed his best mate up the staircase.

'Okay,' Ginny said, leaning forward towards Harry and lowering her voice. 'What do you reckons going on with Malfoy?'

The sudden turn in topic made Harry blink, confused, until his brain caught up. It didn't help that Ginny's brown eyes were reflecting the fire, or that her flowery scent was now engulfing him.

'Oh… well, I think he's definitely gotten some sort of mission from Voldemort,' he said. 'But why would he not want Snape's help? After all, Snape's a death-eater, surely he would be a great help?'

Ginny nodded.

'It does seem weird. Maybe… well, it could be something to do with Lucius Malfoy having such a bad reputation lately. I mean, after what happened at the ministry, his name is probably mud with the death eaters. Maybe Draco wants to… I dunno, get some of his family's glory back?'

'Yeah. Maybe that's what Voldemort's counting on,' Harry said. 'After all, Draco's a kid whose father screwed up already; if he fails, Voldemort could always say "well, it's not like it was any loss".'

'What could Voldemort's mission for him be, though?' Ginny wondered. 'I mean, after what happened with Katie Bell, it seems like it was supposed to be delivered to the castle. And that cursed necklace was attempting to be smuggled in.'

'So… Malfoy's been told to murder someone at Hogwarts without it being obvious.'

'Katie was put under the Imperius curse, wasn't she? And she said she had to deliver that necklace to Dumbledore. So Dumbledore's the target?'

Harry nodded.

'Looks like it. But why such a badly-thought-out way of doing it? I mean, he would have had to curse Katie, but anything could have happened before it got to Dumbledore. Anyone could have touched it.'

'That's even worse,' Ginny said. 'It means Malfoy doesn't care who he hurts as long as he succeeds.'

The two sat in silence for a moment, contemplating this. Malfoy had always been a bad egg, but… never this bad. He was a second-rate bully most of the time and, on all the occasions where Harry had assumed Malfoy was responsible for something horrible, it had never been true. But this… this wasn't just speculation. Malfoy was plotting something, and it was murder.

'Ginny?'

'Hmmm?'

'Er… thanks for talking with me about this,' Harry said, as they both stood up to leave. 'It's really good of you.'

Ginny shrugged.

'Anytime, Harry; I'm here for you.'

She smiled, patted him on the shoulder, and left for the girls dormitories.

Harry was glad of the half-light of the common room; it disguised the silly grin that grew on his face as he walked up the boys dormitory stairs.

'Harry?'

Harry looked up from the parchment he was writing on. Hermione was standing a few feet away, looking hesitant. He had been working on his Transfiguration essay; Ron had gone back to Gryffindor Tower with Luna after breakfast.

'Oh…' he said, slowly. 'Hi.'

'Can… can I talk to you?'

Harry shrugged.

'Go ahead,' he said, motioning to the seat across from him.

Nervously, Hermione sat down.

Come to think about it, this was the first time Harry had properly talked to Hermione since the aftermath of the Quidditch match last year.

Hermione sat still for a moment, as if working out what she wanted to say.

'Listen, Harry… I want to apologise.'

'For what? I wasn't the one you…'

He trailed off.

Hermione pressed on.

'That is true. But you were still there. And I can't imagine it was pleasant seeing me act like that. Especially considering… well, what your aunt and uncle were like to you…'

Harry nodded, curtly. Amongst their friends, none of them ever really discussed what the Dursleys were like in any detail, and Harry preferred it that way. It made things more bearable if he could forget about them while he was at Hogwarts.

'I want you to know that I completely understand if you never want to speak to me again,' Hermione said. 'Especially after how I acted towards Ron.'

Harry didn't say anything. He honestly didn't know what to think. Certainly, he didn't think what Hermione had done was right, and it did remind him of how Aunt Petunia had treated him when he was a kid. But he could also see that Hermione did genuinely feel appalled about what she had done.

'You hurt him, Hermione. You hurt him a lot.'

'I… I know. And I'm going to make sure I never act like that again. I know he probably won't ever speak to me again, but still.'

'You really feel sorry about it, don't you?'

Hermione nodded.

'If I could go back and stop myself, I would. But that's not how these things work. I've got to learn from this so it never happens again.'

'Er… good.'

There was a pause.

'Okay, I'll leave you to your studies, then.'

Harry nodded, and Hermione left.

As he went back to his homework, Harry pondered over what she had said. Yes, she was aware of how badly she had hurt Ron and, well, she had made clear that she didn't expect to be automatically forgiven for what she had done just because she was sorry. That was something, he supposed.

Still… he honestly wasn't sure whether he wanted Hermione as a friend again or not. Yes, she had been like a sister to him, but… well, she had hurt Ron. Harry didn't know if he could ever reconcile that with his image of Hermione as the bossy but kind older sister figure he saw her as.

After he had finished his essay, Harry left the library and walked back to Gryffindor Tower. It was surprisingly busy, but the weather outside was pretty bad for that time of year. A lot of giggly younger students were discussing Valentine's Day, which Harry tried to ignore.

'Harry?'

Harry turned. Romilda Vane, a younger student he had met a few times previously, was stood next to him. His stomach sank. Romilda Vane had developed an annoying habit of trying to flirt with him everytime she ran into him. It wasn't something he enjoyed, and rather wished she would take the hint.

'Yeah?'

'Would you like a Gillyweed?'

'Oh. Er, no thanks.'

'Well, at least have these chocolates,' she said, placing a box in his arms. 'My mum sent them to me, but I don't like them.'

'Er, thanks,' Harry said, awkwardly. 'Listen, I've got to go…'

Harry walked across the common room, decking through the various people, and sat down next to Ron, who was chatting to Luna.

'Let me guess,' Ron said. 'Romilda Vane?'

'Yeah; she gave me these. I just wished she'd stop hinting that she wants to go to Slughorn's party with me.'

'Bit young for you, isn't she?'

'Definitely,' Harry said, shuddering. 'Not to mention she won't take no for an answer.'

'Maybe you should ask Ginny,' Luna said, cheerfully. 'I'm sure you wouldn't mind going with you, and it would stop other people from asking you all the time.'

Harry felt his face begin to flush.

'Nope,' he said, quickly. 'That would just be unfair on Ginny. Besides, I'm sure Dean wouldn't approve.'

Ron chuckled. A little too knowingly, for Harry's liking.

The next morning, Ron and Harry were just leaving breakfast when they spotted Luna waving them over in the entrance hall. The Ravenclaw was wearing a thick coat, and a woolly hat.

'Good morning, Ronald.'

'Morning, Luna.' Ron replied, as they walked over to her. 'Er, happy Valentine's Day.'

'And to you,' Luna said, smiling shyly.

'I'll leave you both to it,' Harry said, quickly. 'I need to get on with something.'

Ron knew that "something" was trying to figure out what Malfoy was up to. Normally, he would have objected but, given that Ginny was helping Harry out with this stuff, he was less worried than he would have been otherwise.

'Okay, see you later, then.'

Harry smiled at them both, before walking up the staircase.

'So… Valentine's Day, eh?'

'Yes.'

Ron swallowed, nervously. He pulled his own hat and gloves out of his pockets.

'I was wondering if you'd like to go for a walk round the grounds? The weather's not too bad today.'

Luna nodded.

'That sounds nice.'

'Great.'

The two of them walked through the large front doors, and set off through the grounds. The weather had cleared up a bit and some meagre February sunlight was peeking through the clouds. Spring was a while away from arriving, but it was pleasant enough in the sunlight.

Luna's hand slipped into Ron's, and he smiled as he intertwined their fingers.

They spent the next few hours walking around the grounds. They didn't speak much, but simply enjoyed the others company. Ron did like spending time with Luna. He hoped his hand wasn't too sweaty against hers. Her grey eyes sparkled in the occasional spot of sunlight. She looked very pretty.

After their faces began to pinken due to the cold, they both silently agreed to walk back inside.

The castle was warming, as they walked through the main doors.

'So, what now?' Luna asked, as she removed her woolly hat. Her long blonde hair glimmered in the candlelight.

Ron grinned.

'First, we get some food, and then… I've got something I want to show you.'

Luna smiled and nodded, linking her fingers through his again.

The house-elves in the kitchens were very helpful. Dobby smiled widely as Ron gave him a new pair of odd socks to wear. Luna seemed to really like the house elves, and smiled widely as Dobby gave her a hug around her knees.

'Master wheezy's girlfriend is very nice!' Dobby chirped, cheerfully.

Ron's ears went pink, and Luna giggled.

After leaving the kitchens, Ron lead Luna up the staircase and through the corridors. Luna was curious about what was happening, until she saw a tapestry of dancing trolls.

'Why are we walking towards the-'

'Ssssh,' Ron said, softly. 'Close your eyes.'

Luna did so. Ron waited a few seconds, before leading her a few paces. The door closed behind her.

'Okay, open them.'

Luna opened her eyes, which widened in amazement.

The room of requirement resembled a gently wooded glade, reminiscent of those in the Devon countryside during the summer months. Trees were dotted around the room at regular intervals, and the floor was covered in a thick smattering of soft grass. Sunlight was glinting down from above, and Luna could hear the sounds of birdsong.

'It took me a while to get it just right, but I thought this would be nicer than just eating in the grounds somewhere.'

'It's lovely,' Luna said, softly. 'Thank you.'

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ron on the cheek. The redhead grinned as his ears turned pink.

They enchanted a napkin into a large picnic blanket, and set it up underneath a large tree.

'So… food?'

Luna giggled, and unwrapped what Dobby had given them. Several sandwiches, some scones, a bunch of grapes, and a large Victoria Sponge cake. Ron's stomach gave a deep growl, and they both giggled.

'Ooh, tomato and cheese,' Luna chirped. 'My favourite!'

'Dobby's very good with food,' Ron said, covering his full mouth with his hand as he swallowed.

After they had digested the sandwiches, Luna picked up the cake and cut it into several smaller slices. Ron opened his mouth, and Luna fed him a small piece of the sponge. It tasted great.

After they had finished eating, Luna cuddled into Ron's side, and the redhead wrapped an arm gently around her as he leaned against the tree.

'Thank you for this, Ronald.'

'No worries. I thought you might like this.'

'I do.'

Luna turned her head to look up at him.

'You have something on your mind.'

'Oh, yeah,' Ron mumbled. 'Well… you remember I had that shared prefect patrol with Padma Patil a few weeks back?'

'Yes, I remember you saying about it. What about it?'

'We talked about… you know, what happened between me and Hermione.'

Luna nodded.

'And…' Ron paused, not entirely sure how to word. 'Did… did everyone really think me and Hermione were a couple?'

Luna hummed under her breath as she thought.

'I don't know about everyone,' she said. 'But a lot of the people in Ravenclaw certainly seemed to think there was something going on.'

'I thought as much,' Ron replied. 'It's just… weird, y'know? Everyone else seems to think it was obvious, but I never got the sense that Hermione liked me much more than as a friend.'

Luna patted him softly on the arm.

'Romantic things are rather complicated, especially between friends.'

Ron nodded.

'I just… I miss Hermione.'

Luna didn't reply, and Ron took the opportunity to continue.

'I know how dumb that seems. She attacked me, and we've barely spoken since. But… she was my best friend for years. Do… do you think I'm being silly?'

Luna shook her head.

'Not at all,' she said, earnestly. 'It must be difficult, going from being very close to someone to barely being around them within the space of a few weeks.'

'Yeah,' Ron mumbled. 'I know it doesn't make what she did right. I still don't entirely want to be her friend again. But…'

He trailed off, feeling very confused.

'Ronald,' Luna said. 'You're not invalidating the pain she caused you just because you miss someone who used to be your best friend. Emotions are never that straightforward or logical.'

She sat up and turned to look him straight in the eye.

'If you want to let Hermione back into your life,' Luna continued. 'That's your decision to make. No-one else should pressure you into doing something you aren't comfortable with.'

'You don't think I'm being too forgiving?'

Luna shook her head.

'No,' she replied. 'You said you just miss her, not that you want to welcome her back as your best friend with no hard feelings.'

'Exactly.'

'Good.'

Luna pulled a book from her bag. It was another Discworld novel, and she read some of it to Ron. It was nice just to sit there and listen to Luna's voice. She was a great storyteller, and it helped Ron take his mind off his confused feelings about Hermione.

Ron thought about what exactly was happening between Luna and him. They weren't nearly as "romantic" as they had been initially, but things were still affectionate between them. He actually quite liked it; it was… easy. He didn't have to constantly worry about it. It honestly felt like a friendship with some extra intimacy thrown in. He liked that.

There was lightning everywhere.

A flash of green light. A falling, bearded figure. Screaming. People crying. The dark mark sent into the sky over a tall tower. And… pain. Lots of pain. Why? What was happening? Could he stop it? Who was-

Ron's eyes flew open, and he sat up in bed, sweating profusely. He looked down at his arms.

Was it just him, or had they been glowing as he'd sat up? They weren't now; they looked the same as ever. But he could have sworn…

Ron pulled open the curtains around his four-poster.

'Ron, mate?'

Harry had pulled back his own curtains, and was staring over at him.

'Sorry,' Ron mumbled, quickly. 'Just a bad dream again. Didn't mean to wake you.'

'No, I couldn't sleep anyway,' Harry replied, walking over to sit down beside Ron. 'Was it the same one you had over the holidays?'

Ron nodded.

'Only more vivid this time. More details; it was just flashes of stuff then. It was… stronger this time. Longer, too. And… my arms…'

'Arms? You mean your scars glowing?'

Ron looked at him.

'Yeah. I… I think it's connected to the nightmares. Like… like the scars are affecting my brain.'

'Madam Pomfrey did say that thoughts could… what was it? "Leave deeper scarring than anything else"?'

'Yeah,' Ron muttered. 'I don't know why it's started getting worse now, though. Don't scars usually heal over time?'

Harry scratched his head in thought.

'Maybe it's taken a while for the effects to reach your brain? Like, my scar didn't start burning a lot until Voldemort came back.'

Ron ignored the automatic wince that he gave when hearing Voldemort's name, and nodded.

'Yeah, maybe. It's just… weird, y'know? It wasn't like it was happening now, like what happened with your scar last year. It felt… well, like it was in the future, or something?'

Harry stared at him for a moment.

'You mean, it's flashes of stuff that hasn't happened yet?'

'Yeah.'

Harry's eyes widened, and he looked very pale all of a sudden.

'Hey, shame I didn't have this when we were doing Divination, eh?' Ron joked, chuckling to lighten the mood. 'Could have saved us some time with the homework.'

Harry nodded, mutely.

'Mate?'

'Hmm?' Harry said. 'Sorry, what?'

'Listen, I'm not… y'know, a seer or anything, right. This isn't like your scar with Voldemort.'

'No,' Harry murmured, almost to himself. 'No, it's something else entirely.'

Hermione wasn't sure why she was stood in the middle of a classroom. It was dark, and the candles flickered. She didn't remember leaving her dormitory, and she certainly never hung around in the classrooms after dark. What was going on? She turned round, trying to get some idea of what was happening.

Another Hermione was sat on the teachers desk, having conjured a flock of canaries into being, which were flying in circles a few feet above her head.

Her eyes widening with the realisation of where she was, Hermione strode forwards.

'Turn those back right now!' She exclaimed. 'Now, please!'

The other Hermione turned around, but her eyes seemed to drift past Hermione as if she wasn't there.

'Oh, s-sorry, Harry,' the other Hermione mumbled. She had clearly been crying. 'I just thought I'd practice.'

Hermione turned quickly; Harry was stood a few feet away, having just walked through the classroom door.

'Yeah, they're… they're really good.'

'Don't tell her that!' Hermione yelled, waving her arms frantically. 'Harry, use finite incantatum now!'

Harry did not seem to hear her. There was a pause, before-

'Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations.'

'It's none of your business what he's doing!' Hermione spat, angrily. 'You're not dating him; you don't have any right to get angry about him seeing someone! If you'd actually been open about things, he wouldn't have assumed you thought so little of him!'

Once again, neither Harry nor the other Hermione seemed to pay her any attention.

'Er, does he?' Harry asked.

The other Hermione narrowed her eyes.

'Don't act like you didn't see him. Hard to miss him and-'

'Stop acting like an entitled brat and get rid of those canaries!' Hermione was almost screaming at this point. 'You have no idea what you're going to break! Change the canaries back! Please!'

There was a creak from behind her. Her eyes wide with horror, Hermione turned around.

Ron stepped through the door, with Luna.

'Luna, get Ron out of here!' Hermione yelled. 'She's going to attack him!'

But Luna didn't seem to hear her either.

'Listen, Hermione,' Ron said, his voice calm and clear. 'I'm sorry about being rude earlier. There was really no need for it.'

Luna squeezed Ron's hand in support, and then left the room.

'Harry!' Hermione cried, waving her hands frantically. 'Get rid of the canaries!'

But Harry didn't hear her.

Desperately, Hermione pulled out her wand.

'Finite Incantatum!' She yelled, pointing her wand frantically at the birds. 'Finite Incantatum!'

But the canaries remained canaries.

'No! Change back!' Hermione cried, before hurriedly turning round. 'Harry! Get Ron out of here! Please!'

But, once again, no-one seemed to even notice her.

'You should probably get back to Luna,' the other Hermione said, her voice high-pitched and wobbly. 'She'll be waiting for you.'

The other Hermione climbed off the desk and walked over to the door.

'Go straight back to Gryffindor Tower!' Hermione yelled, running after her. 'Don't do this to him!'

Hermione saw herself framed in the doorway, as if about to leave but unsure. A long pause happened, every second filled with weight.

'Please,' Hermione begged. 'Please… don't do this…'

The other Hermione stared right through her, and raised her wand.

'Oppugno!'

'No!' Hermione screamed, throwing herself inbetween Ron and the canaries. 'Not him! Attack me instead!'

But the birds went straight right through her, as if she had no more physical form than a ghost. The door slammed, and the room was filled with Ron's cries of pain. Hermione's eyes went black, as Ron's screams echoed through her brain. He was hurting. He was in pain. She had attacked him. She had destroyed their friendship.

No, she cried, please, no, he didn't deserve it, why didn't she listen to me, why didn't she stop herself-

Hermione's eyes snapped open.

She was sat up in bed, her body shaking with sobs. Crookshanks was staring worriedly at her from his spot next to her pillow.

Hermione lay back down on the mattress, and continued to weep. She didn't think she had any more tears to cry over this, but the tears came nonetheless. It would be a long time before she fell asleep again that night.

The next few weeks passed quickly. Harry and Ron spent most evenings keeping up with their homework; it wasn't as if either of them were bad at the work, but the coursework demanded of them this year was especially tough. Apparently, even Ernie Macmillan was struggling.

It didn't help that Harry kept getting distracted by Ginny. Not that she was doing it on purpose, of course; she spent most of her evenings either revising for her O. or sat dozing with her head on Dean's shoulder.

Well, most of the time. However, on occasions where they were the only people in the common room, her and Harry had continued to discuss the weird behaviour of Draco Malfoy. It was great that they could talk about it without worrying about being overhead. Harry had always known that Ginny was smart, but the way she was able to sum up his suspicions so effortlessly was something to behold. She wasn't smart in the same way as Hermione, or Ron for that matter, but definitely intelligent in a way that made Harry sit up and take notice.

And, yes, maybe some of that was due to his feelings for Ginny, but it certainly wasn't the main reason. After all, he had known Ginny for years; it was just that they had never really been this close before.

She still distracted him, though.

However, one evening, Harry and Ron were just packing their things together to turn in for the night, when Ginny wandered over to them.

'Harry, can I have a word?'

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged and swung his bag over his shoulder.

'I'm gonna get my head down,' Ron said, yawning. 'See you both tomorrow.'

'Night.'

Ron waved at them over his shoulder, before walking up the boys staircase.

Dean walked over to Harry and Ginny.

'What are you talking about?' he asked, conversationally. 'Is it about Quidditch stuff again?'

'Nah, this is… er, family stuff, Dean,' Ginny replied, quickly. 'Private, you know.'

Dean raised an eyebrow. Harry felt his stomach squirm guiltily.

'Harry's not your family.'

'Yes, and it's not any of your business,' Ginny said, her voice irritable.

'Geez, sorry,' Dean mumbled. 'Goodness forbid I wonder what my girlfriends talking about with another bloke-'

'You don't own me, Dean!'

There was a very awkward pause.

'I know I don't,' Dean replied, quietly. 'But… well, you used to fancy Harry and-'

That last part was clearly not the correct response. Ginny's face began to turn red, and her brown eyes seemed to flare with anger.

'I was eleven, you prat!' She yelled, and Dean took a nervous step back. So did Harry, admittedly. 'That was years ago! I know that everyone still keeps going on about what I was like in first year, but I would have thought that you didn't listen to those rumours-'

'I'm… I'm sorry,' Dean said. 'Honestly, Ginny; I didn't… I didn't mean-'

'Whatever,' Ginny spat, sourly. She folded her arms.

'Er, sorry,' Dean said, looking at Harry. 'I'll let you two… well, goodnight, anyway.'

Dean and Seamus left for the dorms. The common room was now empty around them. Harry turned to Ginny, who was still looking tetchy. Hesitantly, he spoke.

'So, this is about Ron, I take it?'

'No; I just said that to get Dean off my back,' Ginny said, plopping down in a chair. 'I wish everyone would stop thinking… well, you know.'

She suddenly seemed unable to look Harry in the eye.

'W-well, it was a long time ago, like you said,' Harry stammered, hoping that he wasn't blushing. 'And… you know… your first year, it was a bit…'

He trailed off. The events of Ginny's first year had never really come up in conversation between them. Riddle's diary had cast quite a shadow over Ginny as a person for many years.

'Yeah,' Ginny mumbled, her expression unreadable.

'I'm sorry that everyone keeps saying that stuff about you,' Harry said. 'I can't imagine it's much fun.'

'I've got used to it and, besides,' Ginny replied. 'It's not something you should apologise for.'

Harry had a sudden recollection of what had happened on the staircase at the Burrow over the holidays. Ginny had said the exact same thing about that, too.

'If you don't want to talk to me anymore, I wouldn't-'

'Don't you bloody dare think I'd cut you off,' Ginny interrupted. 'You're my friend, Harry. I… I like having you around.'

It might have just been the reflected light of the fireplace, but Harry could have sworn that Ginny's face blushed slightly after she said this.

Harry's stomach flipped over.

'Er, thanks.'

'No worries,' she said, quietly.

'Listen… I… Dean's a good bloke. He didn't mean anything by what he said.'

Ginny sighed.

'I know. It's just… complicated, y'know?'

'Y-yeah.'

There was another pause.

'I'm gonna go-'

'Do you want-' Ginny said, at the same time.

The two of them looked at each other. There was a very awkward pause as they both processed what the other had said.

Bollocks! Harry thought.

'Er, I can stay up if you want to talk-'

'Nah, you need your rest,' Ginny said. 'So do I, come to think of it. Night, Harry.'

She smiled at him, and patted Harry softly on the arm. He heard the sounds of her footsteps going up the girls dormitory staircase.

Harry walked the stairs to the boys dormitory. He opened the door of the dorm to find Dean and Seamus talking amongst themselves. Dean shot him a look of apology, and Harry nodded back, trying to ignore the guilty squirm his stomach made.

Ron was sat up in bed, reading a copy of "Quidditch Monthly".

'You alright, mate?'

'Y-yeah,' Harry said. 'Ginny just wanted to talk about all the stuff that's been happening.'

Ron nodded and went back behind his magazine.

'I'm glad you and Ginny are friends, mate,' the redhead said, from behind the pages. 'You're… good for each other.'

Harry's eyes widened. What… what did Ron mean by that? Did he know about Harry's feelings for Ginny?

'Er, thanks,' he mumbled. 'I'd… I'd do anything for her, you know?'

The top of Ron's head nodded.

'Good.'

Harry climbed into bed, feeling his brain whirring way fast. Even if Ron did know about Harry's feelings for Ginny, it didn't change much, did it? Ginny was still dating Dean, after all. And Ginny didn't fancy Harry anymore… right?

Harry screwed up his eyes and tried to empty his mind. Especially about Ginny's parting smile. Merlin, whoever thought he'd be getting so flustered about his best mate's little sister?

Hermione sat, hunched over her parchment. The library was filling with students around her.

The detentions with Professor McGonagall had been progressing. They had been going over her memories of various situations, and analysing how she had responded to each. In the most recent detention, they had focused on Hermione's actions around the cursing of the sign-up sheet for Dumbledore's Army.

Hermione had never given more thought afterwards to how entitled she had acted in those circumstances. Not only had she cursed the parchment without the knowledge of any of the people in the DA, but she had also used the hex as a means of revenge as opposed to actually preventing the DA's existence from becoming known to Professor Umbridge.

While Ron and Harry had both not seemed to mind that the parchment had been cursed in the way it was, Hermione couldn't help but shake the suspicion that their opinions on the matter were formed by their anger at the DA being exposed to Professor Umbridge. And the fact that she never actually told them that it would have affected anyone regardless of whether the information had been given willingly or not.

What if Ron had been given truth potion and been forced into giving away the secret? He still would have been permanently scarred, and it wouldn't have even been his fault.

Looking back on it all, Hermione's own actions deeply troubled her. It had never been about preventing the DA from being exposed. It had been revenge. Pure and simple. It was about her seeing her actions as "right" regardless of the circumstances.

She looked down at the notes she had written over the holidays.

Hypothesis: I think I'm right no matter what.

Fact: I have done bad things because I thought I was in the right.

Synthesis: I must learn how to stop seeing my actions as automatically "right" just because I am the one performing the actions.

It wasn't much, compared to the amount of writing she normally produced for homework, but this wasn't something she could be graded on and ace. She needed to change her attitude, not simply put on a show of apologising for what she had done before.

This was why she hadn't gotten Ron anything for his birthday. It may have seemed cowardly, but Hermione didn't want him to be reminded of her on his birthday. When he woke up on 1st March in about fifteen hours, she was glad that he would at least be able to enjoy his presents without having to think about what she had done to him. Besides, he'd have Harry, Luna, Ginny, and their other friends to celebrate with. A lack of a present from her may have been noteworthy, but it brought up less questions than gifting him something after everything had happened.

'I can't say I'm surprised that Weasley finally got shot of Granger after how she acted…'

Hermione looked over her shoulder. On the other side of a large bookshelf, Zacharias Smith was sat with a bunch of other Hufflepuffs. No-one in their year group seemed to understand why Smith had been sorted into Hufflepuff, and even his fellow black-and-yellow-clad housemates didn't seem to know. The boy was unpleasant, rude, and notorious amongst the student body for having a bad personality. Even Ernie Macmillan found it difficult to get along with him.

Normally, Madam Pince wasn't tolerant towards people talking in the library, but she was currently watering the plants in the courtyard nearby and had asked Professor Trelawny to watch things. To the surprise of absolutely no-one, the library was now a boisterous hive of activity while the Divination professor (smelling strongly of sherry) sat with her eyes closed in an easy chair behind the front desk.

'I mean, I know he's with that loopy Ravenclaw girl now but, still, better than that nutjob with the bushy hair.'

There was some irritable mutterings amongst the other Hufflepuffs, and Hermione was pleased to hear Ernie's friend Justin speak up.

'Don't talk about Luna that way,' he said, firmly. 'She's nice. And, besides, it wasn't as if Ron was flip-flopping between the two.'

'Shows what you all know,' Smith said, smugly. 'Weasley was a fool for hanging around Granger for that long. Stand too long around a fire and you'll get burnt eventually. Or pecked, in this case,' he added, chuckling unpleasantly to himself.

The faces of his fellow Hufflepuffs were stony as they stared back at him.

'Don't even joke about that, Smith,' one of the seventh years said, gruffly. 'It's not funny.'

'Oh, why not?' Smith replied, his tone irritable. 'All of you keep going on as if none of you saw this coming a mile off. Remember what Granger did last year to that Ravenclaw girl? Honestly, if Weasley still hung around her despite that, it's his own bloody fault for-'

Smith broke off suddenly. Possibly due to the fact that Hermione's wand was now pressed up against the back of his neck.

'Don't you dare it was his fault,' Hermione said, very quietly. 'You don't understand a thing, Smith.'

Smith's neck turned pale, before he bolted, grabbing his bag, and racing away to the library doors.

'You can all stop looking at me like that as well, okay!' Hermione exclaimed, staring round at the various people looking at her with shocked expressions. 'You don't think I regret conjuring those birds? You don't think I'm just as disgusted with myself as all of you are? You all might hate me for what I did, but not one of you could ever hate me more than I hate myself!'

'Er… Hermione... we don't…'

Susan Bones's voice was calm and cautious.

'No, Susan. Please don't try and deny it,' Hermione said, her anger slowly dissipating. 'I know you all hate me for what I did, and I can't say I blame you in the slightest. What kind of friend was I to Ron? The second another girl looked at him, I acted like an entitled brat. He deserves better than that. I'll be living with the knowledge of what I did for the rest of my life; all I can do is make sure I never behave like that again.'

Hermione turned on her heel, placed her books and parchment back into her bag, and walked out of the library, barely bothering to notice anything happening around her. If she had, she probably would have noticed Ginny and Ron stood behind a bookshelf.

The redheaded girls' brain was buzzing. They had both heard everything Hermione had said.

Was it true? Did Hermione genuinely feel ashamed for what she had done? Harry had said that she did, but Ginny hadn't quite believed it. After all, this was Hermione. Ginny wouldn't have put it past her to just be upset because she was being punished, not because she saw she was at fault.

But… maybe Hermione really did mean it. After all, why else would she have said such a thing in public? Most of the student body were scared or horrified by her anyway, so it certainly wasn't to boost her public image. She had to have meant it.

Hermione had always been obsessed with learning, so maybe this was a sign that she was trying to learn how to do better in future. To learn how to treat people not as 'loyal or traitorous' but as human beings with their own complicated reasons.

Ginny frowned, as she looked round at Ron's startled and confused expression. Merlin, this had all gotten so complicated…

'Brilliant!'

Harry opened his eyes, and sat up in bed. Reaching across, he pulled open the curtains of his four-poster. Ron was sat up in bed too, cheerfully opening the various parcels around him. His bedsheets were already festooned with ripped wrapping paper. Hermione's usual present was notable by its absence.

'Happy Birthday, mate,' Harry said, climbing out of bed and pulling various things out of his trunk in his search for the Marauders Map.

There was a small sigh of Ron. Clearly, he had noticed the lack of any present from Hermione. But he recovered quickly.

'Thanks for the hat, Harry,' Ron said, cheerfully, plonking the maroon hat onto his head, where it clashed somewhat with his hair. 'Can't go wrong with Cannons memorabilia.'

'No worries,' Harry said, smiling, before returning to the map. 'Now, where's he gone… hmmm, still in the dungeons, by the looks of it...'

'Ginny said about that the other day,' Ron said, now tucking into a box of chocolates. 'Old Draco's acting very suspiciously these days. Just be… careful… er, Harry…'

'Ron, you okay? You sound a little…'

Ron was sat on the edge of his bed. A box of chocolate cauldrons was sat, open, next to him. His eyes were wide, and he was swaying slightly where he sat.

'Those are the ones Romilda Vane gave me the other week!' Harry exclaimed. 'Ron, how many did you eat?'

'J-just two,' Ron said. He seemed jittery and one of his eyes kept twitching 'Sorry, t-they were on the floor next to my bed; I thought they were a present from someone that hadn't b-been wrapped. You… you reckon she spiked them with love potion?'

'Well, it definitely wasn't just chocolate in there!' Harry said, hurrying over. 'You… you don't feel weird, do you?'

'K-kinda,' Ron stammered, his foot tapping nervously on the floor. 'I… I don't feel like I suddenly want to snog her, though. Just… like I can't sit still. And is… is my heartrate going up?'

Harry checked Ron's pulse; it was abnormally quick.

'I think we best get you over to Professor Slughorn,' he said, pulling Ron to his feet. 'He'll probably know which antidote to give you.'

Ron nodded, his brow covered in sweat as he pulled on his dressing gown over his maroon pyjamas.

About ten minutes later, they were standing outside Slughorn's office. Harry rapped urgently against the door. Ron's face had grown pale the longer they had walked through the abandoned castle corridors and, as they stood in front of the oak door, he could hear Ron's slipper-clad feet tapping quickly against the stone floor. It was as if his nerves had gone through the roof.

The oak door creaked open and Slughorn's face, drowsy and confused, peered out.

'Harry, m'boy?' he said, squinting. 'I'm always available to student queries out of hours, but I normally sleep late on the weekend.'

'Professor, sorry to bother you at such an early hour,' Harry said, quickly. 'But my friend Ron has his birthday today and… well, we think he's been given an out-of-date love potion.'

'A love potion, you say?' Slughorn's tiredness fell away, replaced by a professional curiosity as he opened the door fully to stare at Ron's complexion. 'Some can have pretty adverse reactions, depending on how long the potion is past it's used-by date.'

'That would e-explain some things,' Ron mumbled, as Slughorn let them both in. 'I feel… really nervy and twitchy.'

'You sit down, lad,' Slughorn said, directing Ron to an easy chair nearby. 'Let me see what kind of antidote would be best…'

Harry remained standing, patting Ron on the shoulder to keep him calm. The redhead was starting to shiver.

'Now…' Slughorn said, bustling over to them, carrying a large box. 'I think that… er, Reggie, did you say?'

'Ron,' said the redhead, trying not to sound too irritated. 'Ron Weasley, professor; I'm the keeper for Gryffindor.'

'Oh, yes; my apologies, Weasley.' Slughorn replied, and Harry was pleased to hear genuine care in the Potion master's voice. 'Now… drink this.'

He handed Ron a small glass, filled with a rich yellow potion.

Ron cast one nervous look at Harry, who nodded encouragingly, before downing the glass in one gulp.

Harry held his breath. Slowly, Ron's face began to look less pale and sweaty, and his feet stopped tapping nervously against the floor.

'I should say that did the trick,' Slughorn said, cheerfully. 'Now, since we're all here and it is Weasley's birthday, perhaps you boys would like to join me in a celebratory drink? I know it's not strictly allowed at Hogwarts, but it is a special occasion. I think I even have some oak-matured mead round here somewhere…'

Ron grinned at Harry, who realised that he could use this chance to maybe get the memory off of Slughorn. After all, the professor was relaxed and cheerful. After a few drinks and a warm atmosphere, maybe Harry could wrangle the memory out of him.

Slughorn poured out three glasses of the mead, and offered one each to Harry and Ron. Harry had never drunk mead before, but he thought it best not to drink a lot. Of course, without the potions master knowing.

'Cheers, boys!' Slughorn said, raising his glass. 'To Mr Weasley on his birthday!'

Presumably deciding that Harry could use this opportunity to get the memory from Slughorn, Ron downed his goblet in one. After all, he was of age now, and it wasn't as if one glass would hurt him, would it...