Harry and Hermione spent the remainder of the holidays practically glued to their phones, so much so that Lily even had to invent a clever little charm whereby the phone batteries drew energy from their magic to recharge. It would be handy when they returned to school, Harry reasoned, for he was pretty sure there were no plug sockets anywhere around the ancient castle.

When January the Third rolled around, however, Harry was equally as nervous as he was excited to see Hermione again. It wasn't that he couldn't wait to be in her presence once more - for that was a given - but it was simply down to the nature of their text message exchanges, which often had spilled over late into the nights and early mornings.

They had started off playful and sort of cutesy, but they had tangented off pretty quickly after that. The lack of face-to-faceness meant that both Harry and Hermione had found the courage to be a little bolder in what they were saying to each other, a degree more than they would ever have been in person. The texts had become delicately more personal and intimate, sharing their private hopes and dreams with each other in ways that they hadn't been brave enough to before.

There was nothing too overt, but Harry was a little terrified of what Hermione would be thinking when she saw him next, considering that Harry told her almost daily that he missed her like crazy and couldn't stand not seeing her pretty face every day, even if he didn't use those exact words. There was a large part of him that was convinced he should have kept such confessions very much to himself.

But Harry needn't have worried. For as soon as Hermione spotted him on Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters on that drizzly January morning, she immediately disentangled herself from Lyra and raced the length of the platform to clobber Harry with a hug that knocked him flat. Or it would have, if his father hadn't been standing right behind him to catch them both before they hit the deck.

"Hi," Hermione smiled breathlessly, her cheeks colouring as she moved her head back to look at him. She hadn't let him go though. "What took you so long? We've been waiting ages for you!"

The definition of we soon became clear, as Harry felt Pap walking in a tight circle around his and Hermione's ankles. Then the cat began clawing gently at the leg of Harry's brand new Levi jeans.

"Can I?" Harry asked cautiously to Hermione, motioning down at Papageno who was practically climbing his calf.

"Mmm-hem," Hermione allowed, rolling her lips together expectantly, her expression unfathomably bright.

Harry reached down and scooped Papageno up into his arms. He saw Hermione's eyes roll back into her head a moment and she bit her lip, as her breath caught with the contact between Harry and her dæmon. Her chest rose and fell with a surge of blatant joy and Harry knew he was on safe ground.

"Is it always like that?" he quipped with a grin.

"Every time," Hermione squeaked breathily. "Come on, let's go and find a compartment before they all get full."

"Have a good term," Lily called, as Hermione dragged her boy away. "If the baby comes while you're at school we'll let you know!"

"Yeah!" James laughed. "We'll try and make sure it happens while you are in Potions, give old Snape a reason to let you off your homework!"

"They wouldn't really try and get you out of homework, would they?" Hermione asked as they boarded the Express. She sounded slightly scandalised at the notion. "That's really quite irresponsible!"

"That's my Dad for you!" Harry laughed. "Here, this compartment will do."

Harry flopped down next to the window, Hermione choosing the seat opposite him. Pap curled up on the seat next to Harry and decided to have a nap. They were about to start talking when the compartment opened and a blonde-haired first-year girl that Harry didn't recognise came in. He wanted to tell her to go away, as he didn't want to share the compartment with anyone but Hermione, but the girl had the most protuberant eyes Harry had ever seen, and an expression that looked eternally surprised.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked, a little bit more harshly than he meant. Hermione heard, and slapped his thigh lightly to tell him off for his bad manners. Harry didn't care about that, for Hermione's touch on his leg had sent electric shockwaves shooting through his entire body. He tried to shake them clear when they reached his head and threatened to fog up his brain.

"Oh no, just checking for Nargles," the girl replied, in a sweet, dreamy voice. "But this compartment seems clean. Have a good trip, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

And the girl slipped out of the compartment and closed the door.

"She was odd," Harry considered thoughtfully.

"How did she know our names?" Hermione mused. "Are we really that famous now?"

"Must be," Harry pondered. "So, any idea what's going to happen to you back at school? Dumbledore said you'd be placed under restrictions at first."

"Yes, he said that to me when he suspended me," Hermione replied sniffily. "But he didn't say what they might be. I have to have a meeting with Professor McGonagall as soon as I arrive, so I imagine I'll learn my fate then."

"I wonder if there have been any more attacks over the holidays?" Harry mused. "It's horrible to say, but I sort of hope there have been. It would certainly get you off the hook."

"You shouldn't wish for something like that, Harry," Hermione admonished in a worried sort of voice. "That creature is lethal."

"I know. But if it was Malfoy, I could live with it!"

Then they spent the early part of the trip constructing a hierarchy of people they'd stare at if they had basilisk juice in their vision. It got silly when they had to play rock, paper, scissors to decide if Peeves would get it before the Bloody Baron, so they took a break for lunch, and didn't resume their madness once they'd filled their bellies with sandwiches and assorted pastries.

Once they'd reached the castle many hours later, and had the Welcome Back feast, Hermione was escorted away by Professor McGonagall as the Gryffindors trudged back towards the Fat Lady. Harry waited up for over an hour for her to return, but in the end tiredness dragged him towards bed. He changed in the dark silence, for the other boys were already deep asleep, and prepared to slide under his covers.

But not before ... ping.

"Where's the cannon?" Ron croaked dopily from the far end of the dorm, before falling instantly back into his snores.

Harry smirked at himself and reached for his phone. He thought he had better put it into silent mode, just in case though. Slipping his head under his quilt, he opened the message.

"Hey? Are you still up? Sorry to wake you if you were sleeping."

"I'm here," Harry typed back. "I waited for you. Where are you?"

"McGonagall's personal chambers. I have to STAY here! They aren't letting me back to Gryffindor Tower yet. Urgh!"

Harry snorted out a laugh that he failed to keep in. "Well, at least she should have plenty of kitty litter and toys for Pap, considering she can turn into a cat!"

"He says you are NOT funny! And I agree! I'm poking my tongue out at you, just so you know."

"There's an emoticon for that," Harrytyped, grinning to himself. "This one."

And he sent it to her.

"I know, but it looks like I'm saying I want to lick you lol!"

Harry hesitated nervously. "Are you saying you don't? I might be tasty!"

A pause at the other end. "You are definitely tasty, Harry. You're my favourite flavour!"

Harry felt his heart flutter around his chest as he read the words for the third time.

"So do you have to stay over there all the time? For lessons and everything?"

"Yes. Prof. McG. will bring me all my homework and class notes using something called a Pensieve at the end of each day, so at least I wont fall behind. I'm looking forward to seeing what a Pensieve is, actually, as I've never heard of one before. I'll tell you all about it when I see you again. I asked, and she wont let my favourite proofreader over to help me, though. That's you, in case you didn't get my ever-so-subtle meaning!"

"Oh no!" Harry typed. "That's very unfair. I'll have a word with her about it tomorrow."

"And say what? You wont be able to change her mind, Harry."

"I can try. I haven't seen you all over the holidays, now they are going to stick you in McGonagall Tower on your own! I'm not having that! It was so great to see you on the train today. I'm not letting them take you away from me so soon without at least a row."

"That's sweet, but you wont make them free me until the person who has opened the CoS is caught. I feel a bit like Rapunzel trapped in this Tower! I've certainly got the hair for it! Hey - if I grow it a bit longer and dangle it from the window will you climb up and rescue me!?"

Harry smiled widely to himself. "I could just use my Nimbus, you know! I wouldn't damage your roots that way!"

"Maybe ... but I think I prefer my way. It would be nice to be the princess in my own fairy tale!"

Harry swallowed sharply. "Shall I?" he thought. He typed, and promptly deleted, his reply three times. "Oh, just do it, you scaredy-cat! What's the worst that could happen? She could tell you to sod off, that's what. That would be pretty bad. But if she doesn't, she might say something nice back. It's worth the risk."

So he typed again. "If you were a princess ... and I rescued you ... what would that make me?"

Hermione's reply came flying back at him.

"It would make you my prince, obviously! Honestly, Harry, don't you know how fairy tales work?"

"And would you like that to ... to be your happily ever after?" Harry typed with trembling fingers. "With me as your prince?"

Harry breathed heavily until his phone shook with the reply.

"I have to go. McG. is on the prowl ... Night, Harry."

Harry sighed, his heart sinking sharply. He went to slide his phone back under his pillow, only for it to ping again suddenly.

"But to answer your question ... yes x ! Now go to sleep! xx."

Harry read the words with shaking eyes. "Sleep! Don't be ridiculous, Hermione! How am I supposed to sleep after you said that?"

But sleep he did. Eventually.

The next day most of the Gryffindors were curious about Hermione's suspicious absence from classes. There was an explosion of rumours about her which spread from that, because the rest of the school began to wonder if she'd been attacked by the monster. Harry was bombarded with questions about it and the truth soon outed, leading Hermione's dorm-mates to begin an outraged campaign to 'Free the Hogwarts One!'

But Hermione wasn't released. Her incarceration lasted for weeks. Harry was permitted to deliver her sweets as relief packages, though he was still only allowed to speak to her through the door of Professor McGonagall's chambers. And as the weeks wore on with no sign of the restrictions being lifted, the Rapunzel Contingency, as they had dubbed it, was becoming more a more like a feasible action.

At the beginning of February, however, Dumbledore finally made some concessions. Hermione was still kept to her new lodgings with Professor McGonagall, but as she as was her favourite teacher Hermione confessed that she didn't mind the set-up too much. They had started to bond over late-night cocoa and scrabble sessions, that helped alleviate Hermione's stir-craziness from being locked away so much.

And she was now allowed to return to class with everyone else. She had to be escorted to and from each lesson by a teacher, which was annoying when it fell to Snape to take a turn, but Harry and Hermione were so pleased to be back together that they were even prepared to overlook this niggling oversight. Indeed, by the first week of the month, which marked seven straight weeks since the last attack, Dumbledore dropped the restrictions further, allowing Harry to chaperone Hermione back to McGonagall alone following dinner every evening.

This was a decision that Harry and Hermione immediately took advantage of, contriving to take the longest routes possible from the Great Hall back to Gryffindor Tower, often detouring to the Owlery, Astronomy Parapets and the Divination Tower on the way, even though these were on the other side of the castle. They were careful not to push their luck too far, though Harry was sure that Professor McGonagall knew what they were up to, if her subtle grins at him when he delivered Hermione safe and sound to her, if a bit later than expected, were anything to go by.

February the Fourteenth arrived in a welcome ray of weak sunshine peaking over the highland crags. But this was the only nice thing about it, Harry decided quickly, for as soon as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast he thought he was going to be sick. Lurid, pink decorations had replaced the traditional hangings and curtains, and the ceiling was a forget-me-not blue, complete with heart-shaped clouds which rained pink and gold, heart-shaped confetti.

"What in the name of all that is holy is this?" Harry demanded in disgust as he plonked himself down next to Neville.

"Valentine's Day, isn't it?" Neville replied, seeming equally as nauseous. "I bet it was Lockhart's idea before the monster did him in. He was probably hoping to love the Chamber of Secrets closed!"

"I think I want to vomit," Harry complained bitterly. "And what are those?"

Harry pointed up to the ceiling. There seemed to be dozens of small, white birds flapping around just below the chandeliers, the candles of which were now fluffy and had little cupid's arrows through them.

"Valentines Doves," Ron explained, eyeing the birds in a mix of fear and hope. "You might want to put your hat on, Harry, just in case."

"In case of what?"

He learned quite what a moment later. One of the doves spotted someone on the Ravenclaw table ... and immediately dive-bombed them, dropping a card on their head as they pulled up from the dive just in time.

"They are delivering Valentines to people," Ron went on. "And - as you're you - I expect you'll take a hammering when the birds spot you. I know, er, that my sister will be giving you a card at some point today. Sorry, she's a bit obsessed with you."

Harry glanced fearfully down the table at Ginny Weasley, who buried her face in her arms as he met her eye. She was so flushed that her whole head looked like it was on fire.

"Well that's just great," Harry grumbled. "Wonderful."

"What is?"

Harry brightened up at the sound of Hermione's voice behind him. She slid onto the bench and helped herself to some fruit from a bowl nearby.

"This!" Harry gestured bitterly at the new decorations. "Have you seen this monstrosity?"

Hermione giggled at his side. "Oh, come on, Harry! It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? It's pink, Hermione! I feel like I'm trapped in candy floss!"

Hermione laughed again. "So, has anyone had any Valentines yet?"

"I did," Neville replied smugly. "Two, actually."

"You have?" Harry asked, feeling an odd pang of jealousy. "From who?"

"Well, Fay gave me one in the Common Room this morning, which was weird enough," Neville confessed, colouring slightly. "And then - and you'll never guess this - that Daphne girl from Slytherin sent me one with the doves. You know, the shy one with the glasses. I thought it was a joke, you know. Maybe Malfoy put her up to it or something. But then she came over and said she was helping Professor Sprout with the teenage Mandrakes later, and that if I wanted to help her clean up their acne she'd love to have me as a partner."

"You're not going to go, are you?" Ron demanded. "She's a Slytherin! You don't want to risk being alone with one!"

"She's a girl, first and foremost," Neville argued. "So I think I'll take my chances! She'll protect me from Slytherin's Monster at any rate."

"Fay will be disappointed," Hermione mused sadly. "She likes you quite a lot, don't you know?"

Neville flushed completely now. "Does she? She never said."

"Well she, sort of, just ... did. Oh my!"

Hermione shrieked out a giggle, for suddenly two dozen of the doves shot directly at her. Well, at Harry sat next to her, really. Harry was taken by surprise, just sitting there as card after card bounced off his head. Hermione was rocking in her laughter now, and the boys soon joined in. Harry scowled at them all in turn, but that just made them laugh harder still.

"I hate Valentines Day!" Harry scythed mutinously as the cards piled up around him. "I've literally been assaulted! Beaten into submission by love and kisses and the colour pink!"

"Well, I suppose one more wont hurt then, will it?" Hermione whispered.

Blushing crazily, she reached into her bag and pressed a bright pink enveloped into Harry's chest as she stood up. She bent down close to breathe into his ear.

"Happy Valentines Day, Harry. Don't open it until you are alone, okay?"

Then she placed a swift, terribly nervous kiss to his cheek, and hurried away to her first chaperone of the day before Harry had a chance to respond. He looked up in time to see Ginny and Demelza Robins scowling jealously at Hermione's retreating form before turning back to the conversation.

"You two are so sickly sweet you make me want to puke," Ron teased from the other side of the table.

"But she isn't his girlfriend, Ron, remember that," Neville quirked next to him, before winking at Harry.

"Oh, no of course not!" Ron sniggered. "Seriously, my parents have less intimacy than these best friends."

"Shut up, you two!" Harry retorted crossly.

"Harry, we're just messing," Neville pacified. "Relax."

"No, it's not that," Harry moaned. "It's just ... I didn't get Hermione a card. I should have, shouldn't I?"

Ron and Neville nodded in unison, grimacing at Harry's hopelessness.

"All may not be lost," Ron suddenly said. "What you need is a grand gesture, to make up for your lapse."

"I'm listening," Harry replied keenly, leaning in.

"It's Valentines Day. You and your witch need to be on your own together. And she's currently being held captive in Chateau McGonagall. What you need to do ... is kidnap her! Take her somewhere quiet and private. Make it all your fault, so that you get told off for it later, and not her. It might be worth it, especially if you get a snog out of it!"

Harry felt blood rush to his cheeks. That idea ... it wasn't wholly bad. And the end promise ... Harry decided that he would have tried far stupider things if that prize was on offer.

"But how am I supposed to kidnap her?" Harry asked. "This is McGonagall we're talking about. She'll have all angles covered."

Ron sat back, his work done. "Hey, Harry, I'm just an ideas man. The details are something you have to work out for yourself."

"Thanks," Harry sniped. "You're about as useful as a waterproof teabag."

Even so, the idea had taken root in Harry's brain now. And it became doubly incentivised as the day progressed, for it soon became clear that the bulk of his Valentines Cards had come from the girls of the Harry Potter Fan Club. Harry reticently opened each one, with Hermione's assistance, between lessons. On the one hand, it distracted them both from her card to Harry, and whatever the mysterious content was that Harry had been told to view alone, as well as her shy kiss at breakfast.

It also gave a window into the reason Harry had been the target of so many cards. For almost every one contained an invitation to a special Valentines Party the Club were holding that night. Hermione teased Harry that he should go and watch the girls all fight over which invitation he'd accepted. She found that image hilarious, but was left livid by the three marriage proposals Harry had also received, the senders of which would only be revealed once Harry had accepted one of them.

So Hermione put a spell on Harry so that he couldn't say the words 'yes' or 'I do' for the next twenty-four hours, until the binding enchantments on the cards wore off. He also spent the day dodging Ginny and Demelza and even Colin Creevey, who were liable to give chase repeating the invitations to the party, until either Harry or Hermione snapped at them to go away, or they escaped into the safety of their next lesson.

After dinner, once Harry and escorted Hermione back to Professor McGonagall, he turned his mind back to the kidnap plans. He had only gotten as far as deciding to simply blast the doors off her chambers and then leg it with Hermione into the Forbidden Forest, when suddenly his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He took it out to find Hermione video calling him.

She looked rather frantic. "Oh, Harry. Good. I'm doing it right."

"Hermione? What is it?" Harry queried. Then he noticed her background. "Why are you near the Arithmancy classrooms? Have you snuck out?"

"I had to, Harry!" Hermione squeaked. "I heard it again! I heard the voice!"

Harry was alert in a flash. "Where? When?"

"Just as I was getting changed after dinner," Hermione replied briskly. "But never mind that! Harry ... the creature ... it's loose again! And I heard it say it's going to kill someone! I'm going to see if I can find it first!"

"No!" Harry yelped, cold fear prickling through him. "Go back to Minerva. Tell her about it. I'm coming to find you."

"No, you wont get here in time," Hermione shot back. "I can still hear it. It can smell blood! Oh, Harry! I hope I'm not too late."

"Hermione, please!" Harry begged desperately. He couldn't think straight for his racing terror. "Please! Just go back!"

"I can hear it, Harry! It's just around this corner! Hey! Maybe I can film it! I can prove that it isn't me controlling it! I might even catch the person who is. I can hear it moving, Harry ... it sounds massive ... it's slithering over the flagstones! It's so close, Harry ... you'd better look away, just in case ... I'll just flip the camera direction ..."

Then Harry heard a sharp scream that he knew would haunt his nightmares for a long time. It was the sort of screech he hoped he would never have heard Hermione make. But here she was ... making it in high-pitched fright. It seared through his eardrums like a red-hot razor.

There was a fizzing sound as if the camera had been melted ... and everything went dark and silent.