"What do you mean Ron's in a flying car?"

Hermione scoffed at Harry. "Do you really need me to explain that sentence? Which bit is confusing you!?"

"All of it!" Harry exclaimed.

He was about to take a look at this impossibility for himself, when the compartment door opened again and Neville Longbottom burst in dramatically.

"Have you seen? Have you seen?!" he panted. "Ron Weasley is flying a car to school!"

Neville dived to the window, pointing animatedly through the glass. Harry curled his head over Neville's wildly gesticulating arm and peered out.

"What. An. Idiot!" Harry shook his head. "What the hell is he playing at?"

"He must have missed the train," Neville suggested. "I saw him talking to his Mum on the platform. She was trying to wipe dirt from his nose - really, I don't know how he manages to get so grubby all the time - but she was eating a pie and smeared gravy all over his face. It must have taken so long to clean up that the train left without him."

"But where in the hell would he get a flying car from?" Harry wondered.

"Must be from his Dad," Neville surmised. "He heads the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry. My Gran told me."

"So, what? ... he's misusing Muggle artefacts now?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Must be ... there's the proof!" said Neville, beckoning her to look again at the battered Ford Anglia that was shadowing the Hogwarts Express from just below the cloud deck.

By now, most of the train seemed to be watching. Smatterings of applause and whooping could be heard along the carriages as people started to notice. Even Harry found himself transfixed by the sight. It was like watching a car crash in motion ... Harry just hoped that wouldn't be how this came to an end ...

"I wonder how Ron even knew how to fly the thing," Neville mused after an hour or two. He had decided to stay in their compartment, to help Harry and Hermione eat their way through the obscene mountain of sweets that Harry had bought for them from the trolley.

"I can only assume it's simple to do ... if Ron managed it," Harry quipped back. "Probably just press a button and off you go."

"Well he's going to be in terrible trouble when we arrive at Hogwarts," Hermione warned. "Apart from the theft, and the enchantment of the object to start with, Ron's an idiot - he's bound to have been seen by Muggles on the ground. That violates the International Statute of Secrecy in a dozen ways at least. I cant imagine what his punishment will be."

"He'll probably get off on grounds of mercy," Harry guffawed. "He's not guilty of any of those things ... he's only guilty of being Ronald Bilius Weasley. That is his true crime ... it is also his punishment!"

Neville burst out laughing. "Harry, you're too wicked! Your humour is sharper than the Sword of Gryffindor!"

"Thanks," Harry grinned. "So, how was your Summer?"

Then Neville was off, launching into a retelling of his last two months. When he touched on seeing Harry in various cover stories - including screaming blue jealousy that he'd been embraced by Maria Edge - Hermione huffed and took out a book from her bag.

"Voyages with Vampires?" Harry scoffed, reading the cover. "I wouldn't waste your time on that tat."

"Tat?" Neville cried, scandalised. "You realise that's a Lockhart book? He's only the greatest adventurer of our age!"

"Not to mention our amazing new Defence Professor," Hermione added. Harry could see a smirk in her eyes where she glanced up over the rim of her book. "Our entire Defence reading list consists of Lockhart's books, remember. You should read them ... he's quite an extraordinary wizard. I'm so excited to see what he can teach us this year."

"You two should start a fan club," Harry derided. "The Gilderbugs, or something."

Hermione put down her book carefully. "You know, Neville, that's not a bad idea, is it?"

"No, I actually like it!" Neville hooted. "Let's do it, shall we?"

"Yes, let's," Hermione agreed, narrowing her eyes teasingly at Harry. "The initiation will be eating some Foam Fangs - in honour of Gilderoy's time with the vampires. You take one and I'll take one, Nev. Harry - are you sure you wont join us? Last chance!"

"I'd rather be bitten by a real vampire," Harry sniped. "No thank you!"

"Suit yourself," Hermione replied. She tapped her Foam Fangs against Neville's. "To Gilderoy!"

"To Gilderoy!" Neville echoed. Then they ate the sweets in unison. "I cant understand your problem with him, Harry. He's a hero, a legend!"

"He's a slick, pompous, smarmy cretin," Harry corrected acidly. "And I don't trust anyone who has more teeth than the entire Osmond Family!"

"Who are the Osmond Family?"

"Nevermind."

The clouds had come in by the time the Hogwarts Expressed came to halt at Hogsmeade train station. The blue skies of Middle England had given way to the granite grey of the Scottish Highlands. The Cairngorm mountains loomed in the near distance, and somewhere amidst its crags and crevices was where Hogwarts castle was hidden.

As Harry stood and shivered with Neville and Hermione on the station platform, his mind was already yearning for the roaring fires and delicious feast that was awaiting them up at the ancient school. He watched as Hagrid corralled all the new first-years towards the boats that would take them across the lake, remembering his own trip a year ago. The time felt like it had flown by.

Then they were moving in small groups of five and six from the station. Harry shuffled along behind Neville and Hermione - who were still nattering about all things Lockhart - when he felt someone come up close on his elbow.

"Hi, Harry. Do you have space in your carriage for two more?"

Harry looked to his right to see Sally-Anne Perks and Hannah Abbott loitering hopefully nearby. Hannah was carrying her black cat and Sally was holding her broomstick in her spare hand. The other hand had curled around Harry's forearm.

"Yeah, we have room," Harry returned brightly. "Hop in."

Hermione turned her head as the conversation reached her ears. She glanced down at Sally-Anne, who was still clinging to Harry as she thanked him for allowing them to share carriages and began asking if he'd had a fun Summer off. Hermione fumed so viciously at the sight that steam might have risen from her ears.

"Ooh, these steps are high, aren't they?" Sally-Anne commented as she tried to get into the carriage. "Can you help me, Harry?"

"Of course," Harry replied. He took the broomstick in one hand and offered his other to help Sally-Anne jump up into the cart. Then he helped Hannah and Hermione up in the same fashion. Neville had no such luck.

"Chivalry doesn't extend to me, then?" Neville quirked, as Harry withdrew his hand.

"Not with this gentleman," Harry grinned back. Then he jumped up into the cart himself.

Hermione had kept Harry a seat next to her, while Neville sat on her other side, so Sally-Anne sat directly opposite Harry, with Hannah and her cat sat in the middle. Harry handed Sally back her broom as the cars began to move.

"A Nimbus? Nice," Harry complimented. "Good brooms, aren't they?"

"The best," Sally nodded enthusiastically. "I saw you flying the 2001 model at Hooch and Hardbroom's over the Summer. I'm so jealous."

"Were you there? I didn't see you," Harry replied. "You should have come over and said hello. We could have had a race."

"Oh no, I didn't want to intrude," Sally told him piously. "I saw you there with your Dad. I didn't want to be rude and interrupt."

"That wouldn't have mattered," Harry replied off-handedly. "It would have been nice to have a bit of competition, actually. My Dad had to make do with a Comet or a Cleansweep. I might as well have been racing Ron Weasley's flying car for all the chance I had of losing!"

"Ooh, did you see that!" Hannah piped up excitedly. "That's going to be legendary, that is! Arriving by flying car ... they'll be talking about that for years."

"Only if Ron gets expelled, which he probably will," Hermione cut in sternly. "I don't think breaking fifty laws is something to be celebrated. Do you, Harry?"

"What? Oh, no, of course not," Harry climbed down, after seeing Hermione's spiky look. "But Ron would. He seems the sort who'd enjoy a bit of fame."

Well, if it was fame Ron wanted ...

CRASH!

There was a huge crunch of twisting metal that echoed through the night. All five of them jumped as they heard it, then Neville stuck his head out of the side of the carriage.

"Oh, sweet Merlin!" he cried. "Ron crashed the car! Right into that really old tree on the grounds. You know the one ... it's the one that hits you if you get too close."

"The Whomping Willow?" asked Sally, standing to look out of her window. "Oh, I do hope Ron's okay. Woah!"

She cried out as the carriage suddenly skidded to an abrupt halt ... and Sally fell backwards and found herself in Harry's lap.

"Oh! Sorry, Harry!" she giggled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. You?"

"Fine. You make a comfy crash mat, you know."

"Right, out we get!" Hermione called out briskly. "Chop chop. Up you get, Sally-Anne."

Hermione actually pushed Sally from Harry's lap and back to her seat. Then she urged Harry out of the carriage by perpetually poking him until he moved.

"Help me down, Harry?" Hermione asked sweetly, holding out her hand. Harry took it and helped her exit the carriage, but when they were safely back on Terra Firma Hermione didn't let go. "This way, Harry."

"Shouldn't we wait for the others?" Harry asked, looking back as Hermione hurried him across the courtyard towards the lights of the castle.

"Neville can manage that," Hermione replied brightly. "Looking forward to dinner? I am. I'm starving. Ooh, and we get to watch our first Sorting, too! This ought to be such a fun night!"

Harry noticed Hermione had put on a very bizarre tone. It was positively sing-songy. How strange. Nice, but still very odd behaviour for his best friend.

They were still holding hands when they reached the Entrance Hall. Harry didn't see any need to let go, and as Hermione seemed happy to keep their fingers interlocked too he assumed it was okay. They were getting some funny looks, though, but Hermione didn't seem too bothered about that, either. She just beamed widely at anyone who came by.

Neville and the others finally caught up with them as they reached the Great Hall. Harry noticed that both Sally and Hannah glanced down at Harry and Hermione's linked hands, and Hermione spotted it too and clutched on a little tighter, which had the effect of making Harry stagger a bit closer to her. But Hermione didn't mind that at all, and simply held on firmer still to keep him in place.

"Well, enjoy the Feast, girls," Neville quipped in a jovial tone.

"Thanks," Hannah smiled back. "We will."

"Yeah, thanks. And Harry," Sally added, flicking her eyes down again. "If you fancy a Nimbus race sometime next week let me know. I bet I could give you a run for your money."

There was no doubt about it, Hermione definitely grabbed hold tighter... and on purpose this time. She practically pulled Harry behind her, positioning herself as a kind of shield in front of him.

"Harry's busy next week," Hermione replied in a low, stern tone.

"Doing what?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Sally-Anne. "I'll think of something."

"The week after then?"

"Busy," Hermione snapped. "And the week after that, too. In fact, Harry wont have much time for anything for at least a month. If he gets a spare day, we'll let you know."

Then Hermione guided Harry away to the Gryffindor table and safety.

"I'm busy?" Harry queried in confusion as they sat down, finally letting go of each other. "What am I doing?"

"I don't know, but it wont be anything with her," Hermione scythed darkly.

Harry went to ask more questions, but then the Sorting began. Half way through, a very triumphant looking Severus Snape marched Ron Weasley into the Hall and plonked him down next to his own chair at the staff table to eat. The entire Hall watched in a sort of mesmerised trance at the display, observing the sort of breathless quiet usually reserved for when the end of term exams were conducted in here. Ron was flushing as red as his hair and the whole room held their breath, as though waiting for Snape or Dumbledore to turn into a real-life Howler or something.

But all that happened was that Dumbledore took Ron off to a room at the back of the Hall once he'd given out his Start of Term announcements, much to the furious chagrin of Snape and most of the Slytherin table.

"I sort of feel sorry for Ron," Hermione said as they climbed the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower after the Feast. "Imagine being expelled. It must be awful."

"You make it sound like a fate worse than death!" Harry smirked.

"Well ... isn't it?" she replied shrilly

Neville guffawed behind them. "You really need to sort out your priorities, Hermione!"

Then they all tumbled through into the Common Room, joining the surge as the two hundred or so Gryffindors headed for their dorms. All except for Harry, who had veered off towards the middle of the room.

"Goodnight, then," Hermione chirped, before noticing Harry moving in the wrong direction. "Er ... Harry? Your room is this way."

Hermione pointed towards the flow of boys making their way up to the male dormitories to illustrate her point.

"Do you want to hold his hand all the way up there, too?" Lavender Brown grinned as she passed. "It's a long walk to the top of the tower!"

"Maybe you can have a little goodbye smooch on the stairs?" Fay Dunbar added with a cheeky wink.

"Yeah, because you're going to be apart for a whole eight hours till breakfast," Parvati teased

"Hush you lot!" Hermione replied blushing crazily. "Just go to bed, will you!"

"We will. Just remember, Hermione," Fay warned in mock seriousness. "Our dorm is this way! This one!"

She pointed theatrically towards the girl's staircase until Hermione hissed at her under her breath and pushed her off with a little giggle. Then she turned back to Harry.

"Seriously though, Harry, what are you doing?"

For Harry had now sat on his knees in the middle of the floor and taken out a little black pouch from inside a pocket in his robes. Hermione watched curiously until she recognised the pouch and its contents.

"Is that the set of Runestones I bought you for Christmas?" she asked, sitting on the sofa to see what Harry was up to.

"Yeah," he replied idly, choosing stones with deliberate purpose and placing them just so around him. "I'm just making a basic ritual circle with them."

"What for?"

"As an aid to sleep, that's all," Harry explained. "It will help me clear my head. It will be too chaotic upstairs tonight, so I'll do it down here instead."

"Why do you need help sleeping?" Hermione asked in concern, slipping off the sofa to sit next to Harry on the floor.

Harry looked up at her and blinked solemnly. "I was stressed, when I thought I'd done something to upset you. I could barely sleep with it. So my Mum and Dad taught me some meditation exercises, ways to siphon off my negative energy and channel it into the Runes, which turns it into a force of charge. If you like, I can show you how to do it."

"I don't have any problems sleeping, Harry," Hermione replied sternly. She was cross with Harry for not telling her about this, and a bit cross with herself for causing it.

"It's still useful, though," Harry argued. "And the Runes don't work properly if they aren't charged with energy, so it's a handy way of doing that, too."

"But why tonight?" Hermione pressed, sliding an inch closer. "I've already said I wasn't ignoring you. You don't have to be stressed about that anymore."

Harry swallowed and coloured a little. "I know, but ... it isn't just that."

"What then?"

"It's ... being back here," Harry mumbled. "It's the first time since ... well, you know. Since Quirrell, and all that."

Hermione felt her heart spill into her chest cavity. She hadn't really thought about that, about that night. She knew that Harry had complained of a few nightmares after it, but she hadn't suffered anything similar.

But, then again, Lord Voldemort hadn't put his hands on her.

Hermione hadn't considered how badly this might have affected Harry, that it might have carried some sort of lingering effect. But now it was clear that it had ... and Harry had kept it from her.

"I didn't want you to know," Harry muttered in response to her soft yet demanding look. "I didn't want to bother you with it. It's silly, I know ..."

"It isn't silly," Hermione sighed in sympathy. She reached out to pat Harry's thigh consolingly, but the Rune circle repelled her. "Harry ... what is this?"

"Oh, sorry, I have to let you in to the circle," Harry explained. "It's protective magic, see."

"Then let me in."

"Oh, right."

So Hermione tried again. She reached over and took Harry's hand this time, his resistance broken.

"I want you to promise me something," Hermione hushed gently.

"If I can keep it, then I'll promise," Harry vowed faithfully.

"You'll promise to talk to me about this if it continues," Hermione went on. "I don't like the idea of you suffering in silence. I'm your best friend, I'm here for just that sort of thing, you know!"

"Okay," Harry grinned. "I can do that. Thank you, Hermione. And I am sorry. I know you said I didn't upset you over the Summer, but I know I did. You're just too good to be honest about it. But I will find out what it was, and make it up to you ten-fold."

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush shyly. "There is something you can do for me, if you like."

"Name it."

"Stay away from Sally-Anne Perks!" Hermione laughed heartily. "I don't like her."

"Okay, but why?"

"Her nose is too cute," Hermione explained thoughtfully. "I wont ask you to break it for me, like in some freak Quidditch accident or something, just steer clear of it, please."

"Alright. That's weird, but alright," Harry smirked back. "Now. I have to meditate."

"Can I watch?"

"If you want, but it isn't very exciting," Harry told her.

"Not exciting?" Hermione scoffed. "You're Harry Potter! 'Exciting' is your middle name!"

"I'll have to have a word with my parents about that," Harry chuckled. "What were they thinking? Now, I need quiet. Can you do that?"

"I can do that," Hermione parroted.

"You, er, need to take your hand away for this bit, though."

"Oh ... right. Of course."

Hermione withdrew her hand slowly and watched Harry work. His circle was reformed and a sweep of magic sealed it shut. Hermione felt the spell current flutter through her hair as it passed her. That was new. Harry fell into a deep trance, breathing low and steady. Hermione could see little strands of energy, in many different colours, leave Harry's heaving body and flow into the Runestones around him. He seemed in such utter control of whatever it was he was doing, that Hermione couldn't help but be in a bit of awe at the display. She felt a shy sort of pride that Harry was so powerful, and that he was letting her see that side of him.

And she was also deeply covetous of something else ... that Harry had showed her his vulnerable side. That was new for him, too. He put on such a brave face to the outside world, but he was comfortable enough to share his worries and stresses with her alone. She stole them from him and stored them in her own heart, owning them as if they belonged to her.

She smiled at that as she watched Harry meditate, wondering just how long it would be before all of him belonged to her.

There were two surprising things at breakfast the next morning.

The first was that there was a clutch of people at the Gryffindor table surrounding Ron Weasley, who hadn't been expelled. So maybe that was three surprising things, Harry considered. This crowd wanted to know all about his exploits in the flying car and Ron was animatedly regaling them with the tale. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the attention.

That cheered Harry, who was able to stroll along with Hermione and Neville for company without all eyes turning his way for once. They ate in a pleasant mood, Neville nattering excitedly about their first class of the day - Herbology - while Hermione had her head planted inside the pages of another of Gilderoy Lockhart's 'The Incredible Adventures of My Amazing Life' book series again, with Gadding with Ghouls being her breakfast tome of choice. Harry just shook his head in exasperation as he watched Hermione's eyes speeding across the pages, oblivious to the happenings of the world around her.

But then Harry's mood took a nosedive. For as soon as they left for their first class, Harry was aware that he was being closely watched. He wasn't sure from where, but he was sure all the same.

Then there was a bright flash from around a dim corner of one of the spiral staircases.

Harry snapped his head towards it. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" Hermione asked, following his line of sight.

"That flash of light," Harry replied.

"What flash of light? I didn't see one."

"You didn't? Huh," Harry shrugged. Maybe it was a trick of the eye, sunlight glinting off one of the suits of armour or something. Yes, that would be it. Harry put it from his mind and fixed his thoughts back on Herbology.

Which was useful, as it was a tricky lesson to start the year. Re-potting baby mandrakes ... hardly anyone's idea of a gentle re-introduction to school life.

"Now, can anyone tell me some of the key uses of the mandrake?" asked Professor Spout.

Hermione's hand shot into the air first, which surprised no-one. Expect for Harry, who was standing so close to her that he had to body swerve to avoid Hermione's hand taking his eye out. He glowered at her crossly as she mouthed a giggly little 'sorry.'

"Miss Granger," Professor Sprout encouraged.

"The mandrake is useful in making powerful restoratives," Hermione recited from A Thousand and One Magical Herbs and Fungi. "And they can also be used in, er, fertility potions and treatments."

She blushed furiously as she said this last part, just as Lavender and Parvati whistled pointedly at her and Harry. Harry looked at Neville, who just shrugged back, equally as befuddled.

"Excellent, Miss Granger," Professor Sprout beamed. "Take ten points for your correct answer."

"But, Professor," Harry pointed out fairly. "That was two answers."

"Then you may also take ten points, Mr Potter, for swift mathematics on behalf of Miss Granger," Professor Sprout replied. Hermione just swooned to herself, as Fay nudged her with her shoulder. "Right, earmuffs on. These babies are loud!"

And she wasn't lying. The mandrakes screeched and screamed as they were un-potted. The Gryffindors were taking this class with the Slytherins, and it was unclear which set of students was more unhappy about this. Millicent Bulstrode was so disgusted at having to share a pot with Dean Thomas that she forgot to put on her earmuffs ... and promptly collapsed when the mandrake shrieked in her face and ruptured an eardrum. Daphne Greengrass had to float her all the way up to the Hospital Wing with her wand.

Harry and Hermione were - obviously - re-potting together. Across from them, on the other row of trestle tables, Draco Malfoy looked over as Hermione pulled her ugly little mandrake from it's pot.

"Oh, look everyone," Malfoy drawled. "Ever wondered what Potter and Granger's baby would look like? Well, there it is! You know, I do think he has your eyes, Granger!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry sniped, as Sophie Roper - the Slytherin sharing with Draco - giggled next to him.

"Just ignore him, Harry," Hermione cajoled, drawing his attention back to herself by patting his wrist. "No more magic flares, okay?"

"Alright," Harry agreed, stilling instantly at Hermione's brief contact with his skin.

"Ow! Gerroff me!"

All eyes were drawn to the end of the row. Ron and Parvati were struggling with their mandrake, which was having a bit of a temper tantrum. It must have been teething, for it had bitten Ron on the finger and wouldn't let go.

So Ron punched it in the face!

"Twenty points from Gryffindor!" Professor Sprout called down angrily. "For assaulting an infant!"

"That's not fair!" Ron moaned. "The little beggar bit me!"

"And I can only hope you wouldn't respond to a human baby in same way," Professor Sprout admonished. "Miss Granger? Will you go and help Mr Weasley, please."

"Yes, Miss."

Hermione scurried away, and Ron glowered furiously at her as she fixed his problem. Harry sighed. Clearly, the brush with fame hadn't taught Ron any sense of manners or appreciation yet.

"Good job," Harry complimented as Hermione returned to him.

"You could have done that just as easily," Hermione smiled back.

"Maybe. But Sprout didn't ask me," Harry grinned. He leaned in close, like he was going to tell her a secret. "She knew how to play to the class' strengths."

"Hush you," Hermione replied, blushing furiously.

After Herbology came Transfiguration. McGonagall's class was no less tricky than Sprout's, but Harry and Hermione were soon having their own little competition to see who could produce the prettiest buttons from the beetles they were turning them into.

"I can do little toggles, too. Look!" Hermione announced proudly, showing one she'd made to Harry.

"I have a cloak they would go very nicely with," Harry nodded, impressed. He pulled up his sleeve and drew his wand. "But can you put little threads through the button holes, like this? The legs change quite easily into them I reckon. And the shell makes for some shiny refinements around the edges."

"Show-off," Hermione teased with a little grin, as Harry created a very handsome button and gave it to her.

"You can keep that," Harry laughed.

"I'll treasure it always!" Hermione swooned dramatically, hugging the button to her face and swaying on the spot until they both fell about giggling.

"Excellent work," Professor McGonagall beamed as she passed their table. "Take ten points each."

"Cant you make it fifteen, Auntie Min?" Harry quipped. "You're bound to deduct marks when you get around to Ron and Neville."

"Yes, I agree," Hermione added in a sniffy voice. "I've been watching them, but I don't think they are having much luck. Neville is doing okay ... but I think all Ron is doing is giving his beetles some exercise. He's spent more time chasing them along the worktop with his wand than actual spell-casting."

Harry stifled a laugh behind his hand. "Auntie Min ... what's that shiny stuff around Ron's wand?"

"Looks like Spellotape!" Professor McGonagall frowned. "Weasley! Bring your wand to me this instant. Chop chop!"

Ron shuffled sheepishly across the room to them and handed his wand over. McGonagall examined it closely.

"This wand is a disgrace!" she reproached. "How on earth did it get into this state?"

"It's not my fault ... well, not totally," Ron protested weakly. "It was my brother Charlie's old wand. Dragon fire burnt the end off it, so the Unicorn hair pokes out a bit."

"And this break down the middle?" McGonagall demanded.

"The, um, tree did that," Ron flushed. "You know ... The Whomping Willow."

Professor McGonagall thrust his wand back at him in disgust. "Then you have no-one to blame but yourself. I was expecting very little from you this year Weasley, but I was prepared to hope that you might improve a bit. You had plenty of scope for it, as you know. You were almost refused entry into the second year on account of your hopeless exam results last year, remember. We almost made you repeat the first year they were so poor. And I cant remember the last time that happened."

Harry and Hermione raised wide-eyed brows at each other and looked away, pretending not to have heard as they went back to work.

"I know, Miss," Ron muttered, scuffing his shoe against the desk. "My Mum was not happy with me."

"No. I can't imagine that she would be," McGonagall replied.

"But I am going to try, Professor," Ron vowed, before adding grimly, "Like you said ... I cant get much worse, can I?"

"I would have thought not, but after seeing your wand ..." McGonagall frowned. "That thing is a liability, Mr Weasley. You need to get it replaced before you hurt someone ... or hurt yourself."

"Yes, Miss. But wands they ... they don't come cheap."

"I shall have a word with the Headmaster," Professor McGonagall told him stoutly. Then she flicked a look and a tiny smile at Harry and Hermione. "We have a fair bit of excess in the Hogwarts Hardship Fund this year. I'm sure it can stretch to a new wand for you."

Hermione grinned up at Harry in a 'This is your generosity knowing no bounds' sort of way. But without being able to say so, she just slid a little closer so that their shoulders were touching. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat, where his rapidly beating heart had collided with it.

"Thank you, Miss," Ron mumbled, flushing deeply again.

"It is not charity, but an investment in you and your future," McGonagall replied kindly. "I expect your results to improve. If not for yourself and your family - though that ought to be incentive enough - then for the glory of Gryffindor. You need to take ownership of something in your life, Mr Weasley."

"Yes, Miss."

"Very well. Carry on. And if you have any trouble, just ask Mr Potter or Miss Granger for help. I'm sure they wouldn't mind. Just look how perfect their buttons are!"

Harry wished she hadn't said that. Ron scowled a little at the suggestion, then idled back to his desk mutinously.

"So much for my chances at a thank you," Harry muttered to Hermione, as soon as Ron was out of earshot.

"Well, I appreciate you," Hermione beamed, which was worth more to Harry than all thank yous Ron could have given him in three lifetimes.

After lunch they were due to have their first Defence lesson with Lockhart. Harry wasn't looking forward to it. He was distracted all afternoon, as he'd seen two more of those strange flashes of light, and was on the verge of going to Madame Pomfrey to see if he was having a stroke or something, when the cause suddenly revealed itself.

And when it did, Harry rather thought he'd have preferred the stroke.

"Hey Harry, can I have a picture, please?"

A little mousy-haired boy had accosted Harry as they queued up outside Lockhart's classroom. He introduced himself as Colin Creevey, a Muggle with an obsession for photographing as much of the magical world as he could. And now, he had been sequestered by two other first years - Demelza Robins and Ginny Weasley - to take pictures of Harry ... as many as he possibly could.

"Why do you want a picture of me?" Harry asked with an awkward flush.

"For the wall of the Fan Club," Colin told him brightly. "A Harry Potter Fan Club!"

"Is it just for first-years, or can anyone be a member of this fan club?" Hermione tittered, her eyes laughing before her mouth could join in.

"Don't encourage them!" Harry moaned angrily.

"Fan Club? Who has a Fan Club now?"

Harry groaned. For Lockhart had picked that moment to step out of his classroom.

"Harry does, Sir," Demelza squeaked. "Ginny and I started it. And Colin, here, is our Chief Photographer. Ooh ... can we have one of the both of you? The two most handsome boys at Hogwarts together?"

Hermione was trying to suppress silent giggles next to Harry at his bashfulness. Harry scowled at her.

But Lockhart was in his element now. "Of course you can! Another big smile, Harry. You remember the way!"

Snap. Snap, snap. Colin's camera clicked away as Lockhart held Harry in a sort of headlock and grinned like a chimp on laughing gas. Thankfully, it was over in less than a minute.

"Thanks!" Demelza sang. "See you, Harry. Stop by the Fan Club any time. Third Floor Corridor, the room by that funny trapdoor. See ya! Mwwwwaaaah!"

Then she blew him a kiss and skipped away with Ginny, laughing crazily. Harry blushed furiously and turned to Hermione, who was red in the face and seemed to be eating her knuckles to keep the giggles at bay.

"Dont even say anything," Harry warned crossly, before stomping into Lockhart's classroom.

The lesson itself turned into a bit of joke. It was worse, in many ways, than Quirrell's version of the subject a year previously. Harry quickly decided to rename the class Defence Against Boredom. For the entire first lesson consisted of nothing more than Lockhart reading aloud the first chapter of his autobiography, Magical Me, along with some of his favourite excerpts from later on in the waste of good wood pulp. Then he gave a ridiculous quiz about what he'd just read them all.

The only answer Harry got right was Who Wrote Magical Me? And even that was debatable, as Harry wouldn't have been surprised if Lockhart was actually illiterate.

What made him truly sick, though, was that Hermione answered every single one of the ludicrous trivia questions correctly, causing Harry to lose a touch of respect for her. In his mind, she was better than that. Much better. She didn't seem to hear when he told her that though, as her head was balanced on her hands, her eyes glassy and distant, and she kept sighing like she had back on that day at Flourish and Blotts.

Harry didn't switch his attention back on until the bell went, when Lockhart gave them their 'homework' ... which Harry thought was a task just as pointless as their first lesson.

"Homework, tonight, is to record your dreams in the diaries you all purchased for the class," Lockhart called out happily as the class packed away. "Next lesson we will take a look at them, and analyse any darkness that we find and defeat it! I will have you dreaming freely in no time!"

"What kind of homework was that?" Harry riled as they headed back towards Gryffindor Tower. "Record our dreams? What a load of rubbish."

"Seems fair to me," Neville argued. "The Dark Arts can be internal as well as external, you know."

"Indeed they can," Hermione agreed.

"Don't tell me you're defending that fraud?" Harry cried. "Come on! The guy's a joke!"

"Just look at what he's done in his books, Harry," Hermione suggested. "We have to trust that he knows what he's talking about."

"They're rubbish, too," Harry scoffed. He couldn't believe his friends were so blind to this, but he knew that Hermione's faith in books was unshatterable, even if they were works of complete fiction. "The truth will out, you'll see. Then you'll be sorry. But I'll accept both your apologies when that day comes."

"So, are you just not going to do the homework?" Hermione asked incredulously as they reached the Portrait Hole. "Discord."

"Is that the password!" Harry snapped. "Makes sense, really. And yes, I will do the homework. I'll say I'm dreaming of Voldemort coming back and killing us all. See how old Lockie deals with that darkness!"

"Harry!" Hermione told him off. "You cant say that!"

"I don't know why not," Harry rebuffed.

"Well it's a lie, for a start!"

"So? Seems fair to me. After all, one bit of fake writing deserves another as far as I'm concerned. I'll show that fraud that he isn't the only one who can write utter crap and pass it off as the truth!"

All in all, it wasn't a great end to the day. Hermione considered all that had happened as she brushed her teeth, slipped on her nightie and curled up on top of her quilt to try and pull the knots out of her hair. It was a war Hermione couldn't hope to win. Fay and Lavender watched the struggle with profound sympathy and pity.

"You have such lovely thick hair, Hermione," Lavender commented. "But it looks a nightmare to manage."

"You don't know the half of it," Hermione replied, wincing as the brush got stuck and pulled painfully on her roots.

"Has it always been that dense?" asked Fay, twirling her shorter black bangs around her wand as they dried.

"Always," Hermione confirmed. "I've tried different shampoos, conditioners, everything. But it takes so much to make any sort of difference that I'd need a full-time job to cover the cost!"

Lavender giggled at that, then pierced Hermione with a shrewd stare. "Okay then. Time for a bit of Gryffindor truth from you, Miss Granger."

"About what?"

"About you and Harry Potter," Lavender squeaked. "Come on. Spill it."

"There's nothing to spill," Hermione replied, her cheeks flaring hotly.

"Oh, rubbish!" Parvati Patil called from the en-suite shower.

"Yeah, don't give us that," Fay chipped in. "You can tell us. It's just us girls here."

"What makes you so sure there's anything to tell?" Hermione asked evasively.

"Where to start?" Lavender cut in exuberantly. "There was the hand-holding when you arrived for the Sorting, then the cutesy little way you were acting together in Herbology and Transfig this afternoon."

"Not to mention the rumours that you visited him every day over the Summer," Parvati added as she joined them.

"Oh, yeah! I forgot about that!" Lavender laughed. "Did you really?"

Hermione blushed madly. "Well, it wasn't every day."

"But you did go and see him?" Fay pushed.

"Sometimes," Hermione confessed as her blush deepened. "Then some days he came to Oxford to see me. Sometimes we'd do Muggle things, other times magical things."

"I bet you did some magical things!" Lavender squealed, laughing as Parvati flopped down on the bed to giggle with her. "Did you kiss him? What was it like?"

"Yes, Hermione, do tell!" Parvati urged, propping her head onto her elbows in anticipation.

"It wasn't like that," Hermione tried fruitlessly, adding with unmasked disappointment. "We didn't kiss or anything."

"Well, it must have been like something," Fay argued sagely. "Why else would Harry follow you round all day like a little puppy begging for a petting?"

"He doesn't do that ... does he?" Hermione asked, giggling coyly herself.

"Oh, you know he does!" Parvati dismissed lightly. "And you love it!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Hermione grinned.

"Yeah you do. You love him. Hermione loves Harry!"

"Ssh, everyone will hear you!" Hermione shrieked, as the other girls joined in on the song.

"So?" Lavender giggled. "Everyone knows already. Especially Sally-Anne Perks."

Hermione's giggle turned to a cross little frown. "What about her? Has she said something?"

"Oh, nothing much," Lavender teased. "Only that she fancies Harry something chronic and she's plotting to boot you out the way so he'll go out with her."

"Yeah, we thought you should know," Parvati added. "Us Gryffindor girls have to stick together. What are friends for, eh?"

"Just give us a shout when you need help burying her body!" Fay chuckled. "I know some good secret passageways out of the castle, you know."

The rest of the night was spent devising creatively devilish ways in which to dispose of the corpse of a hopeless love rival, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work. When the time finally came for sleep, Hermione decided to get her dream diary out in readiness for the morning. She didn't want to miss even a single detail.

In any case, the itinerary for The Plan was written on the first page, and it wouldn't hurt to refresh her memory. In truth, Harry was so irritated by Lockhart already that Hermione thought all she'd have to do would be to circle all his lessons in little hearts on her class timetable, and Harry would start a blood feud against the famous adventurer just for the sake of it.

But when Hermione opened the cover of her diary, she was hit was with a shuddering shock ... and immediately started to panic that her secret would leak out.

For the page containing The Plan was gone ... somebody had stolen it!