A/N: Well, here it is, the long-awaited chapter update. A million thanks to those who reviewed my fic! By the way, this story can also be found at www.sugarquill.net. Thanks to my Beta-reader Seldes Katne.
Chapter 5: Awakenings
Harry watched Ron and Hermione play chess in the common room, thinking about the conversation they had the other night. Harry was glad that Filch had interrupted them at that moment, for Ron had really put him on the spot. His face had gone beet red at the question, but mercifully, Ron had been too annoyed with Filch to pay too much attention. To Harry's great relief, Ron didn't bring up the subject again after their detention, and Harry had gone straight to bed on the pretence of a huge headache, to prevent Ron from bringing it up again.
The portrait hole slid open, and Ginny walked in, followed by Colin Creevey. Colin was excitedly telling Ginny a story, but Ginny didn't appear too interested. She plopped herself down next to Harry, and joined him in watching Ron and Hermione. She gave Harry a smile, and Harry smiled shyly back. Did he have feelings for Ginny? He wondered what Ron's reaction might be if he ever found out. He had seen Ron's reaction in Charms, and he had a feeling that Ron wouldn't be too pleased if he ever confessed anything to him about Ginny. Not that I have anything to confess…
Colin sat down next to Ginny and greeted Harry with his usual enthusiasm.
"Hi Harry! How's it going?" he said, his head bobbing up and down.
"Fine, Collin," replied Harry, faking a smile.
"Did you hear about what happened to Goyle?" Colin had completely forgotten about Ginny, and had moved around to sit on his other side.
"No," Harry answered. Ron's head snapped in his direction, and Hermione took the opportunity to eliminate his horse with her queen.
"What happened, Colin?" Ron asked interestedly, a grin slowly appearing on his face.
"Well, Dennis found him wandering around by himself near the Trophy Room. Apparently, there's a rumour going around that he's part Muggle!" Colin said excitedly. "Can you imagine, a Muggle in Slytherin! The scandal!" Colin laughed. Ron was in stitches. Harry grinned at Ron.
"What do you think the Slytherins did to him, Colin?" Hermione asked in a worried tone.
"Dunno," Colin shrugged. "My guess is, they kicked him out of their common room."
"Those people are so sick!" said Hermione disgustedly.
"Sick? I was hoping he'd get bashed!" said Ron with a grin.
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's not nice! Poor Goyle…"
Colin turned to Harry. "So, Harry, do you think the rumour's true?"
"Um…" Harry looked over at Ron, who was red-faced from laughing, and then to Hermione, who was frowning. "I don't know Colin…"
"So what if he's part Muggle?" Hermione spoke up angrily. "There's nothing wrong with being a Muggle, right, Colin?"
"Right. But if it's Goyle…" Colin trailed off, because the frown on Hermione's face was radiating danger signals. He instantly dropped the subject and moved at once to sit next to Ginny again. Hermione rolled her eyes.
Harry watched as Hermione and Ron went back to playing chess, and tried his hardest to ignore the chatter that was coming from Colin and Ginny. He was about to suggest a move to Hermione when a sudden, white-hot pain shot through his scar. Harry screamed and doubled over. But the pain was over in a matter of seconds. Ron and Hermione were by his side at once. "Harry!" "Go get Dumbledore!"
Ron was about to get up when Harry seized his wrist. He looked around uneasily at the worried faces of his friends. Ron and Hermione were looking at him anxiously. Ginny and Colin were wide-eyed with fright. Ginny reached out to him. "Are you alright, Harry?"
"Yeah…" he said vaguely. Then he got up abruptly. "I'll see you guys later. I'm going to see Dumbledore."
He went to get up, but Hermione held him back. "Do you want one of us to go with you, Harry?"
"No."
He left the common room, his friends' stunned faces staring after him.
*****
Harry reached the stone gargoyle quicker than he normally would. He muttered "blood-flavoured lollipops!" but the gargoyle didn't move. Damn! Harry hated having to go to Dumbledore's office during times of emergency, because he never knew the password to get in.
"Chocolate Frog!" "Fizzing Whizbees!" "Acid Pops!" "Levitating Sherbet Balls!" "Ice Mice!" The gargoyle blinked, and it stepped aside to let him through. The good thing about Dumbledore's passwords was that they were quite easy to guess.
Harry stepped off the spiralling staircase and knocked firmly on the door. Dumbledore opened it, and looked down at Harry with the usual twinkle in his eyes
"Harry…what can I do for you?" said Dumbledore cheerily.
"Professor, I just came to tell you about my scar." Dumbledore nodded and opened the door wider to let him through.
"Sit down, Harry." Dumbledore gestured to the plush armchair by his desk, which Harry sat in uneasily. "So…you've been experiencing pain in your scar again?"
"Yes."
"When did it occur?"
"Just now, Professor."
"I see. Have you experienced any pains in your scar before now?"
"No, Professor."
Dumbledore was silent, deep in thought. "What about your dreams? Have you had any lately…dreams involving Voldemort?"
Harry stared at Dumbledore, wondering if he should tell him about his dream a few nights ago. It didn't take long for him to decide. "No." he said quietly.
That wasn't exactly truthful. He had been having dreams of Cedric and Voldemort for the past couple of months, but they had always been the same. It's not like he dreamt of anything unusual…but yet, that dream about Ginny…
"Yes," said Harry abruptly. "There was one dream, a few nights ago…" He looked at Dumbledore, hesitating for a moment. He had never told anyone about his dream, because it felt too personal. But then Harry knew he could trust Dumbledore.
"Go on, Harry," Dumbledore prompted.
"Throughout the summer," Harry began, "I've been dreaming of Cedric's death." A lump formed in his throat. He stared interestedly at the fluffy blue carpet, examining his shoes.
"There was nothing you could have done about Cedric, Harry," said Dumbledore gently, reading his thoughts.
Harry swallowed. "But that's not all of it, Professor." He forced himself to look into Dumbledore's eyes. They were tinged with worry. "A few nights ago, I dreamt the same thing. It's always the same. I dream that I'm in the maze, then Cedric and I grab the Triwizard Cup, then we come across Voldemort, and then Voldemort kills him…but a few nights ago, I dreamt it was Ginny, Professor, not Cedric."
Dumbledore looked at him searchingly for a moment, then said quietly, "I see."
Harry was taken aback. How can Dumbledore act so calmly about all this? Then Dumbledore smiled, ever so slightly, eyes shining behind his spectacles.
"Er…what do you think that dream could mean, Professor?" Harry asked timidly. When he didn't answer, Harry continued, "You don't suppose Voldemort might go after…?"
"No, I don't think so, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "It is normal, at times like this, to become overprotective of those we love…" Harry blushed. Just what is Dumbledore saying here? "But all the same, we must be vigilant," Dumbledore continued, more to himself than to Harry. "Indeed, we must…"
"Er…right," Harry said, beginning to feel foolish for telling Dumbledore about his dream.
"I will alert The Order," Dumbledore said, standing up, "to keep a look out for Voldemort's next attack. Thank you, Harry, for being of assistance." He bowed his head slightly at Harry.
"It's no trouble at all, Professor."
Dumbledore walked Harry to the door. "Remember to come to me if your scar bothers you again," he said with a kindly smile.
"I will, Professor." Harry turned to go.
"Harry – "
"Yes, Professor?"
"Don't worry so much about things that might never occur. There is no need to add to the troubles that each day brings."
"Pardon, sir?"
Dumbledore smiled. "You're still young, Harry. I say make the most of it." He gave Harry a conspiratorial wink. "Good day."
"Er…good day, sir."
Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower in a state of bewilderment.
*****
When the portrait hole slid open, an anxious Ron and Hermione ran to greet him at once. "Harry! Are you alright?" "What did Dumbledore say?"
Ginny and Colin were still sitting in the same couch. They didn't seem to have moved at all since Harry left the room. They stared nervously at Harry. Harry looked back uneasily, and said in a lowered voice to Ron and Hermione, "Dumbledore's going to warn The Order. He thinks that Voldemort is going to strike some time soon."
Hermione's eyes started to water. "I have to go and warn my parents," she said shakily.
"Your parents will be fine, Hermione," said Ron soothingly, putting his arm on her shoulder. He lowered his voice so that Ginny and Colin wouldn't hear. "Snuffles and Professor Lupin put wards around their house, remember?"
"So what? They could still be in danger!" Hermione hissed back. Harry and Ron exchanged uneasy glances.
"Don't worry Hermione," Harry said reassuringly. "I don't think the Death Eaters would attack the same area again."
"Yeah Hermione," Ron agreed. "They'd have to be really thick to attack an area swarming with Aurors."
"But you don't know that for sure, Ron!" Hermione threw Ron's arm off her shoulder, and she stomped away into the girls' dorms. Ginny ran after her.
*****
Harry trudged down to the Entrance Hall in low spirits at 11 o'clock that night. It was his last night of detention – he knew he should be somewhat relieved, but having detention with Malfoy didn't sound like much fun at all, to put it mildly. When he reached the huge, oak front doors, Malfoy and Filch were already there, waiting for him. Filch's eyebrows were furrowed, and when he saw Harry, his expression grew even more sour.
"You're late, Potter!" he snarled, when Harry got closer. "Think you can take your time just because it's your last night of detention, eh?"
Harry ignored him. He caught Malfoy's eye, who was standing a good two metres away from Filch, and looking just as sour. Mrs. Norris was at Malfoy's feet, purring contentedly and rubbing her nose on his shoes. Harry could tell that Malfoy was itching to kick the cat off him.
"Just tell us what we're supposed to do, you old sod!" Malfoy drawled impatiently.
"Don't you speak to me like that, young man!" retorted Filch, giving Malfoy a hateful glare. "Now hand me your wands!"
"Why should I give you my wand?" Malfoy shot back.
"Because Professor Snape has given me authority to take it, Mister Malfoy, and if you don't do as I say, I'm going to march you straight up to his office!" Spit flew from Filch's mouth. "Besides, you're on detention, and there is to be no wand use during that time, now hand it over!" Harry and Malfoy reluctantly parted with their wands. "Right, follow me."
Filch led the way through the oak doors and walked them towards the Forbidden Forest. Malfoy looked around uneasily – he had always been frightened of the forest, ever since first year. Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye with satisfaction. It was always so fun to see Malfoy so discomposed.
When they got to the edge of the forest, Professor Sprout was waiting for them with two large silver buckets and spades.
"Thank you Mr. Filch," she said, when they got closer. "I'll take it from here thanks." With a last glare at Harry and Malfoy, Filch, followed by Mrs. Norris, made his way back to the castle.
"Right boys," Professor Sprout said once he had gone. "Your task tonight is to collect as much Mooncalf dung as you can."
"What?" said Harry and Malfoy at the same time.
"Mooncalf dung. Very valuable fertiliser. Mooncalves only come out during the full moon, and that's the only time you can collect their dung. Now, I want no fooling around, you understand? The forest can be dangerous during the full moon. Stick together at all costs, and stay at the edge of the forest. Don't go in any deeper. Here are two buckets, one for each of you." She handed Harry and Malfoy a bucket and spade each. "The dung is easy to spot. It glows silver in the dark. Oh, and if you come across any werewolves, don't worry, silver repels them, that's the point of the silver buckets and spades, see." She winked at Harry and Malfoy.
"W…werewolves?" Malfoy said with wide eyes. "C…can't we do something else, instead?"
"Oh not to worry," Professor Sprout said. "Nothing will happen to you if you do as I say. Now I must be off. I'll be at Greenhouse Two, and if there's any trouble, just give me a yell." She glanced at her watch. " I'll meet you back here at one. I expect those buckets to have something in them when I get back." She walked away, leaving a terrified Malfoy, and an indifferent Harry by themselves in the dark.
Harry and Malfoy stood on the spot staring at each other. It was Malfoy who broke the silence first, though he did so rather sulkily.
"Just because I'm stuck with you, it doesn't mean you can talk to me, Potter."
"Was I talking to you?" Harry said coldly.
"I'm just warning you now. Don't talk to me. It's bad enough we have to go in there - " he gestured towards the forest, "I don't need you to make things worse."
"Fine. We'll go in separately, then." Harry walked off into the forest alone, leaving Malfoy behind him. He hadn't been alone two minutes, however, when Malfoy was once again by his side. Harry rolled his eyes but said nothing.
They worked in silence for many minutes, collecting the mounds of silver droppings that littered the forest floor - they weren't so hard to spot, since as Professor Sprout had said, they glowed in the dark. Harry did his best not to get bothered by Malfoy's presence. If he had his way, he wouldn't mind doing this by himself, even if it were in the middle of a full moon night.
The full moon was overly bright, and it illuminated them as they worked. Harry remembered Professor Lupin. He tried to imagine what it would be like, to be an animagus like his dad, running around in the forest with Moony and Padfoot…the thought preoccupied him, and he forgot about the unpleasantness of having Malfoy for company.
Harry should've known that this preoccupation wouldn't last, however. When he bent to pick up a silvery mound with his spade, Malfoy did the same thing, causing their spades to collide and sending silvery dung flying around them. It was lucky Harry didn't get any on him, but to his amusement, Malfoy got some on his pants, which Malfoy didn't notice.
"Oh good one, Potter," said Malfoy furiously. "Trust you to screw things up."
"Shut your mouth, Malfoy!" Harry replied through gritted teeth. "Don't forget, you were the one who followed me in here!"
"For your information, Potter, I did not follow you in here. Weren't you listening? Professor Sprout said to stay together at all costs."
"And since when have you been a fan of school rules Malfoy?"
"Don't get smart with me, Potter."
"Admit it, you're just a coward."
There was a moment's silence, in which Malfoy stared at Harry through narrow eyes, smirking. Harry wished that there was such a thing as suffocating in one's own smirk.
"I have no idea," Malfoy said slowly, "what she sees in an unbelievable git like you!"
"What on earth are you talking about Malfoy?"
"Don't play dumb, Potter."
Harry sighed exasperatedly. "If I had my wand, I would hex you."
Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Well, isn't it lucky Filch took our wands away, eh?" he said sarcastically.
Having had enough of him, Harry walked away into another part of the forest, but to his annoyance, Malfoy followed close behind him. "What's the matter? Scared of being alone, Malfoy?"
"Oh I get it. Famous, brave Harry Potter. Is that what the little brat loves about you?"
Harry rounded on Malfoy. "Don't go there."
"Or what? What are you going to do, Potter? Will me to death?" Malfoy laughed at his own joke.
"No. Leave you by yourself." For the third time, Harry walked away, but Malfoy trailed him like a shadow.
"What would Weasley say, eh? If she ever saw her boyfriend sink this low?"
"I am not her boyfriend," Harry said thickly. He was so tired of the taunts about him and Ginny; though hearing it coming from Malfoy angered him even more, because he said it in such a resentful way.
"So you say Potter," Malfoy said quietly.
Harry whipped around to face him. "What is your problem, Malfoy?"
"My problem?" Malfoy spat. "My problem is that I have to work with a self-centred, arrogant, git like you!"
Harry seized Malfoy by the collars of his robes. "Take it back, Malfoy," he said threateningly.
"Which one?" Malfoy said evenly.
"All of them. If you don't want to end up with your head in a bucket of dung."
"Riight. Because famous Harry Potter is never self-centred or arrogant, is he?"
Harry tightened his grip on Malfoy's collars even more. The two eyed each other for a long time.
"But I've got to hand it to you, Potter. For someone who is supposed to be great, you can be so damned blind. And no, I'm not talking about your ugly specs."
"Then you'd better tell me what you are on about, Malfoy, because I am really losing my patience here."
"Don't you know, Potter?" Malfoy smirked.
Harry dragged Malfoy towards the bucket but Malfoy resisted. He grabbed Harry's collars and the two struggled madly against each other. There was a flurry of black robes, fists swinging in every direction, heavy breathing between clenched teeth…until both of them tripped over a tree root, causing them to topple painfully to the ground. Neither of them got up, both too tired and angry to do much else.
"Like I said, Potter, I don't know what Weasley sees in you!"
"Leave Ginny out of this, Malfoy!" Harry retorted, sitting up and glaring at Malfoy. "I am so sick of you bothering her!"
"Oh, I don't enjoy bothering her, Potter," Malfoy said quietly. He looked over at Harry with a sulky expression. "It's you who I hate."
"Yeah, well the feeling's mutual." Harry gathered his things and straightened up. "Like I said, leave Ginny out of this. She has nothing to do with it."
"She has everything to do with it."
"What has Ginny got to do with anything?" Harry demanded, his voice rising.
Malfoy's smirk returned. "If you don't know, then I won't tell you."
"What has Ginny got to do with anything?" Harry repeated.
For a moment something flickered in Malfoy's eyes. If Harry had blinked he would've missed it. Malfoy blinked. "Everything Potter," he said resentfully. "Everything." He yanked his robes out of Harry's hands with a sour look and slumped away out of the forest. Harry was left alone, hardly believing what he had just seen and heard.
*****
Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower that night lost in confused thoughts. What was Malfoy trying to say to him back in the forest? That he liked Ginny? The idea was ludicrous, but it explained Malfoy's behaviour for the past few weeks: the sour looks he gave Harry and Ginny every time he passed them in the corridors, the jokes, the pranks…and all that time Harry thought Malfoy was just being his evil old self. But Malfoy, jealous of Harry and Ginny? Harry couldn't get his head around it, and he quickened his steps, eager to tell Ron about what he had just witnessed.
When Harry stepped through the portrait hole, it was to find the common room deserted. Where's Ron? They were supposed to meet up here after their detention, but it looked as though Ron might have forgotten.
Harry decided to just go up to his dorm, thinking that Ron was probably asleep already, but as he was climbing up the stairs, the portrait hole slid open. Harry instinctively turned back to see who it was. He was already halfway up the staircase, hidden in shadows.
The slowly dying fire illuminated two people, but in the semi-darkness of the common room, Harry couldn't quite see their faces to identify who they were.
"Thanks for going up to the owlery with me, Ron."
He froze. It was Ron and Hermione. Should he go down there to greet them? But somehow, Harry knew this was something he shouldn't intrude upon.
"That's OK," Ron replied huskily. "Don't worry about your parents, Hermione, they'll be OK."
Harry edged slightly to the wall, so he could have a better look at the two of them, but he did so carefully, so as to stay hidden in the shadows. Ron and Hermione were both standing very close to each other, staring into each other's eyes in an odd way. He watched as Ron picked up Hermione's hands and squeezed it.
"Yeah…" Hermione whispered.
Silence.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Ron?"
"I…I'm always here if you need me…you know that." Harry noticed a nervous edge to Ron's voice.
"Yeah, I know. Thanks…for everything," replied Hermione hoarsely.
Silence.
"Yeah, well…I had a nice time." Ron blurted.
Nice time? He had a nice time owling Hermione's parents with some bad news? Harry wondered whether he should go there and give Ron a good kick up the –
But Hermione spoke up. "You had a nice time going up to the owlery?" She sounded desperately confused.
Ron chuckled nervously. "Er…that's not what I meant. What I…I meant was…I had a nice time being with you…you know." Harry waited with baited breath to see if Hermione would accept this explanation.
"Well, I guess we should get going. It's late!" Hermione spoke up, chuckling nervously.
"Yeah." Ron let go of Hermione's hands, but neither of them moved.
"Yeah."
"Well…"
"Goodnight, Ron."
"Yeah. 'Night Hermione."
Harry watched Hermione cross the room and climb the girls' staircase, her eyes never leaving Ron's. They looked at each other with a dreamy expression on each of their faces. Ron stayed where he was. A silly smile crept on his face, and Harry wondered whether Ron was aware of this. He chuckled to himself, covering his mouth with his hand so that Ron wouldn't hear. Ron suddenly looked startled, and he looked around suspiciously – it seemed he had heard, after all.
Harry bolted up to his dorm.
*****
"How'd your detention go, Harry?"
"Just great," Harry replied sarcastically. "Especially since you didn't meet me in the common room after it."
Ron, Hermione and Harry sat by the common room fire the next night, doing their Defence Against the Dark Arts homework (six rolls of parchment on the numerous methods of hex deflection).
"Sorry," Ron replied guiltily. "I had to go to the owlery with Hermione." Ron and Hermione both flushed as they looked at each other, and then quickly bowed their heads over their parchment again. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement, but Ron took this a different way. "She wrote a letter to her parents, see…you know, to warn them about You – Know – Who," he explained quickly.
"Oh…right," said Harry with a smile.
"Anyway, did Malfoy give you trouble?" Ron said, changing the subject.
"Not really. We just tried to get each other's head in a bucket of dung, that's all."
"You should've hexed him!"
"I couldn't. Filch took our wands away." Ron looked shocked, and Harry explained: "He reckons Snape told him to. Said we didn't need wands for detention."
"What a - !" Ron used his colourful vocabulary to describe what he felt about Filch.
"Ron! Your language!" Hermione scolded.
"Sorry, Mum," Ron replied sarcastically.
Harry, not wanting an argument, spoke up quickly. "You wouldn't believe what I found out about Malfoy last night, though." Ron and Hermione instantly forgot about each other and looked at Harry. Harry told them what Malfoy had revealed (or had not revealed) to him the previous night.
Ron looked scandalized. "Malfoy and Ginny? The nerve of that git!"
"Malfoy can't help who he fancies, Ron," Hermione pointed out.
Ron looked stubbornly defiant. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, he can fancy anyone else, but not Ginny!"
Hermione heaved a tired sigh. "It's not that easy, Ron."
Harry cut in before Ron could reply. "Well, even if Malfoy did like Ginny, he can't really do anything about it. I mean, how damaging would that be to Malfoy's reputation?"
"Ginny's reputation you mean," muttered Ron.
"I think it's sad though," Hermione spoke up quietly. "For a person to love someone who they can never have a chance with." From the way she said it, Harry wondered if there was more to her statement than Hermione was letting on.
"Don't tell me you feel sorry for Malfoy?" Ron asked with raised eyebrows.
"So what if I do?" Hermione replied. "Because he's in Slytherin, he's expected to dislike people like Ginny. Malfoy's just a victim of circumstance. It's all this class and blood nonsense. They just erect unnecessary boundaries between people, and those who try to cross them are condemned by society…"
"Whoa…that's deep, Hermione," Harry said, casting an amused glance at Ron.
Hermione ignored the both of them. "He's the archetypal poor little rich boy, really."
"So what are you going to do about it? Start a society for him? What would it be this time eh?" Ron looked over at Harry with a grin. "S.P.R.O.G.? Society for the Protection of Rich and Obnoxious Gits?"
"Oh, you are so witty, Ron," Hermione replied sarcastically.
The thee of them continued to work in silence for a while, until Ron threw his quill exasperatedly on the table. "That's it. I've run out of theories on the Stasis Spell."
Hermione didn't even look up from her work. "Page 257 of the textbook, Ron. There's more in there."
"I can't be bothered," Ron whined. "Can't you just at least give me 2 or 3 sentences? Just to fill up some space?"
"No."
"Pretty please?" Ron batted his lashes at her in what he thought was a dramatic plea for help.
"No, Ron," Hermione said more firmly, trying to keep her face straight.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, this is only homework. Why can't you just let me copy a bit?"
Hermione suddenly put her quill down and closed her book. "Sorry Ron, but you'll have to do this one on your own," she said coolly. "It's for your own good you know." She gathered her books and stood up. "I'm done. I'm going to bed now. I'll see you two in the morning."
"But…"
"Goodnight!"
Ron watched her leave with a bewildered expression. "What's wrong with her?" he asked Harry.
Harry shrugged. He thought about the look Hermione and Ron had given each other the night before. It seemed totally at odds with the way Hermione had behaved just now. Hermione had always been sensitive about homework, but she had always helped them out when they really needed it. And although there was a time when Hermione had been strict about letting Ron copy her homework, she had, over the years, lightened up about it. There was definitely something going on, but to be on the safe side, he said the most obvious thing in answer to Ron's question. "Well you know Hermione, she gets touchy about certain things – especially schoolwork."
"But I wasn't going to copy all her work," Ron protested.
"But Hermione doesn't like being taken advantage of, don't forget," Harry pointed out.
"Women!" Ron cried out in exasperation.
"What about them, Ron?" Both Harry and Ron started at the sound of Ginny's voice. She was looking at Ron with her eyes narrowed in suspicion, as if challenging him to say what was on his mind. Harry was strongly reminded of Mrs. Weasley, at that time when Mr. Weasley threatened Fred and George by telling their mother about the boys' ton-tongue toffees.
Ron fidgeted with his quill. "Nothing," he mumbled moodily.
"Oh, hi, Harry," Ginny said sweetly, smiling. Her eyes darted back to Ron. "This is about Hermione, isn't it?" Ron said nothing.
Harry's eyes darted curiously from Ron to Ginny. He had never seen Ginny speak so authoritatively like this before.
"You had another fight, didn't you?" Ginny pressed on.
"No, we didn't, for your information," Ron snapped back. "What business is it of yours anyway?"
"Hermione is my friend too, Ron…"
Ron frowned. "Don't start with the lecture Gin."
Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but Harry cleared his throat and cut in. "Are you here to do homework too, Ginny?" he asked her, eyeing the bundle of parchment and books under her arm.
Ginny was distracted from Ron by Harry's gaze on her, and replied, "Yeah…feeling a little stifled in my dorm, you know." She blushed, but quickly dropped her books on the table, and plopped herself down between Harry and Ron.
"I do hope you don't mind me joining you Harry," she said quickly, peering shyly at Harry.
Harry grinned broadly. "Of course I don't mind. I can help you out with your work if you like…"
"Oh can you please?" Ginny replied, somewhat a little too enthusiastically. "I was having a bit of trouble with Divination, and I heard that you and Ron did well in it."
Harry laughed. It was actually a fluke that he and Ron got such good grades at the subject, and he told Ginny so. "It's really just creative writing Ginny," he said. "Just make it up!"
Ginny laughed and shook her head. "And Trelawney never notices?" she asked with raised eyebrows.
"Nope. As long as you predict your own death at least twice a week, then you're bound to pass with distinction."
Ginny flashed him another smile, and Harry smiled back. He felt strangely light-headed, as if the light of the common room fire seemed to illuminate only one person in the room. It was as if Ginny's face attracted the light, drawing all the warmth to her – well, almost. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron roll his eyes. But Harry didn't feel too concerned – he was too much in a good mood to really pay much attention. His attention was focused entirely on the only other red head in the room.
*****
After many minutes of noisy laughter and making up predictions together (both Harry and Ginny totally forgetting about Ron), there was an abrupt silence. Harry looked over at Ginny. Her eyes were alight with happiness. Without thinking, Harry reached out and lightly brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eye. Ginny started and stiffened.
Ron yawned loudly. "I think I'll go to bed now," he said abnormally loudly, stretching his long arms and legs.
Harry felt a twinge of guilt as he watched Ron get up and gather his things. He didn't mean to do it, but he realised he had just left Ron entirely out of his and Ginny's conversation. He had never done that before. Ron caught his eye as he went to walk away. Harry flashed him an apologetic smile. "Night, Ron," he said kindly. "I'll see you upstairs in a minute."
"Night, Ron!" Ginny echoed.
"Yeah, goodnight." Ron disappeared into the darkness.
Harry and Ginny sat tensely side by side, both feeling a little awkward at suddenly being left alone together. Finally, Ginny spoke up.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"What's this thing with your scar? You know, how you got that pain in it this morning?"
Harry was taken aback. He was kind of hoping that Ginny would say something else… He looked over at her. She knew nothing of what was troubling him, but he figured he might as well tell – after all, she was bound to find out anyway.
"I never told you this before, Ginny, but my scar is connected to Voldemort." Ginny flinched at the name. "Whenever he's nearby, whenever he's feeling murderous, my scar hurts."
Ginny looked shocked. "Oh…how awful…"
"Yeah. The pain's usually a warning that Voldemort would attack."
Ginny flinched again, but steadied herself with a breath. "Is that why Hermione was upset this morning? Because she thought her parents might get attacked?"
"Yeah."
Ginny grew quiet and stared into the fire. Harry saw her shiver slightly. "Can I ask you something, Gin?"
"Go ahead," Ginny said somewhat reluctantly.
"What was it like for you, down in that Chamber?" Ginny looked over at Harry, startled at his question. Maybe he had gone too far in asking the question, but he needed to know – if there was someone who knew what it was like to be so profoundly affected by Voldemort, it was Ginny. She slightly edged away from him and flushed pink.
"I…I don't remember much, really," she stammered. "Sometimes it just feels like a horrible dream, you know?"
"Yeah, tell me about it," Harry said quietly. He suddenly lapsed into silence, remembering that night in the maze, remembering his dream…Cedric's motionless body…Ginny's limp form down at the Chamber…his dream about Ginny just a few nights ago…
"Don't feel bad about it, Harry," Ginny said, cutting through Harry's reverie.
"What?" he asked blankly.
"I mean, Cedric's death."
Harry looked away. How had Ginny known what he was thinking? Harry forced himself to smile. "Yeah, you're right…"
"Of course I'm right," Ginny said firmly. They looked at each other for a moment. Ginny opened her mouth as if to say more, but decided against it. After a few seconds of awkward silence she cleared her throat. "Er…I think I should get going to bed." She quickly got up and smoothed her creased robes, then gathered her rolls of parchments and quills.
"Yeah, me too," Harry agreed. He decided that there was no point in staying in the common room by himself. He got up, and both of them went their separate ways – he to the right side of the room, she, towards the left.
"Night, Harry."
"Night, Gin."
But as he was about to walk up the staircase, he suddenly remembered something –
"Ginny!"
"Yeah?" She herself was about to climb the stairs, but turned back to face him.
"Is there anything going on between you and Colin?" Harry blurted. Then his face went scarlet. Lucky for him, it was dark.
Ginny laughed. "No, Harry! What made you think that?"
"Er, nothing," Harry replied, nervously running his fingers through his messy hair.
Ginny chuckled. "Goodnight, Harry." And she disappeared from view.
"Goodnight," Harry said to the now empty common room, a sheepish expression on his face. After a few moments, he slowly made his way up to his dorm, grinning from ear to ear.
*****
Once he was sure that Harry had gone, a solitary figure emerged from the shadows in the corner of the room, where he had been hiding. He looked in bewilderment at the staircase from which Ginny had disappeared, and then his eyes travelled to the staircase that Harry had just climbed. His jaw dropped in shock.
"Oh. My. God."
Continued in Chapter 6: Revelations.
A/N: In case people didn't get it, SPROG is an Australian slang word, and is another word for 'spit'.