A/N: first of all: samovar is a typical Russian metal container in which you boil water for making tea. The other thing: many of you have asked why I wrote the title as someovar. Well, it has nothing to do with ovary or anything, LOL:) I changed 'sam' into 'some', meaning that Krum got SOME samovars (and I joined the words 'some' and 'samovar'.) That's all.

Mabel Weasley: you'll get to know everything in time, I promise. Anna won't keep her mouth shut, of course.

LupinsLover: Russian Muggles may use electric kettles, but you know that in Hogwarts electric things don't work. I supposed that such things don't work at Durmstrang as well. Oh, you love Harry? I thought you loved Lupin :))

Bucky: no, there are no vampires in the story at all. I repelled all flashes of green light with my lightsaber, don't worry :)

X_Tow_Naga: yes, we call the hard drive Winchester in Hungary. I always thought we have taken that word from the Americans… but it seems that it's not true. Don't worry, you'll see the good old pogrebings once more. Yes, McRice is a rip off on McDonalds :) I thought it was funny. I didn't even think of the no-sex-over-Christmas-prediction… funny idea, but it is going to be left out. No, Harry isn't playing Quidditch for the time being, but in chapter 2 I mentioned that he had agreed to play in Puddlemere United from next summer. So yes, he'll play Quidditch, but there will be no matches in this story. In the next one – maybe :) I guess Krum got things from other people at New Year, but from the Hogwarts folks he got presents at the Orthodox Christmas. I don't think that ghosts can have sex, but they can be attracted to living people (or other ghosts) – remember Moaning Myrtle pining over Harry. About Herm's hair potion – I only used the one that Rowling used. Why a Japanese garden? Because it's so charming – at least I think so. I always loved looking at pictures of Japanese gardens – they are lovely and romantic. I did not want a miniature Eiffel-tower or a replica of the Trafalgar Square, because they aren't exotic. Japanese gardens are.

STARGIRL: yes, English is my second language, so there have been and will be grammatical and spelling mistakes, sorry. I only learnt English at school – I haven't even been to an English-speaking country.

Lady Schezar: no hints, sorry. You'll get to know soon.

Tessa: of course you may call me Agi. All of my friends call me Agi – truth be told I don't like to be called Agnes, because I think it's too serious for me :) No, Tatyana doesn't love Harry – she never said she did. She said she did this out of love, but that doesn't mean that she does it out of love for Harry. You'll see a bit of Fred/George in chapter 25, and more of them from chapter 28.

K.C. Hunter: I love it how you – and most of the people – think that Mileta is evil. No, in fact she isn't. She's just a spoiled little brat, but not really evil.

Mage: of course. Later.

veronik: later, later, later… in a couple of chapters. Oh, you misspelled system – you wrote it as sistem (I just thought I'd point it out for you, I hope you don't mind).

star queen: I agree, Han/Leia was much better (and funnier) than Anakin/Padme. I loved it when Leia said: 'I love you'. And Han replied: 'I know.' Then Han: 'I love you.' Leia: 'I know.' It was soooo much better than all the fluff in AotC!

PadmeSkywalker: I wanted to send you a mail asking something in Latin, but I couldn't find your email-address. Please write me your address in your next review or send me a mail, okay? This is important! Thanks.

aurora riddle: yes, Ani and Ami get married at the end. Count Dooku cuts off Anakin's hand. When I saw it at first I didn't dare to believe it! Your SW theory isn't that bad at all… but I don't think that we'll actually see Padme die, because in RotJ Leia says that she remembers her mother, thus she had to be at least 2 years old when Padme died – and it's quite impossible that episode three has a time span of about three years – IMHO. All SW films have a time span of a couple of weeks, at most. No more. I didn't write what Herm gave for Harry because it wasn't important – must have been a book (what else?) You asked some vocabulary, so here we go: 'myriad' = (literary) too many to count, for example: myriad bright starts shone in the sky above. 'ethereal' = very delicate and light, in a way that does not seem real. (I took the explanations from my Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English). I guess I have too big a vocab for a second language :)) Or I just read too many books in English, I don't know. Feel free to ask words you don't know. In this chapter your wish will be fulfilled – partly.

blaubaerin: no, Mileta isn't planning to give anything to Harry… I don't understand, why do all of you people think that she'd so evil??? She isn't - you'll see. She's just spoiled and nasty, but NOT evil. The Grim is the English name of the large ghost dog that haunts churchyards – prof Trelawney keeps predicting for Harry that he'll see the Grim and die. Really, what is the German word for the Grim? Hermione's hairdo was a bit like that of Empress Elisabeth (wife of Franz Joseph) at many pictures: most of her hair was let down, but a braid of it was fastened circularly to her head to look like a small crown. It's a bit difficult to explain it like that… get a picture of Sissy and you'll see :) 'carillon' = a set of bells in a tower that are controlled from a piano keyboard, or (in my fic's case) the tune played on these bells. (Longman Dictionary). Oh, so you are a tea worshipper? One of my friends is also one – she even talked me into going to a teahouse, but I found it rather boring and I don't really like teas. The only tea I really liked was a caramel flavoured one – it was cool! Otherwise my friend hasn't managed to turn me into a tea-lover, and she'll never succeed :) I simply love Japanese gardens, because they are exotic, that's why I put that into the story. No, Tatyana does not need super semen, but something else :)))

LisaQT3: I DO think that Harry is damn sexy! :)))))

Almah: concentrated boggarts were cute, but not too scary. I loved the dragons, though :)

Harrysgirl: thank you, my friend :)

Aimee: sorry for having mispelled your name!

Moony Lover: no, Tatyana's lost love isn't Krum. Okay, I tell you the secret about Anakin: the tuskens (sand people) capture and torture his mother, she dies in her son's arms and Anakin kills all the tuskens – not only the men, but the women and the children as well. It is not really shown in the movie, but as he tells it to Padme… it's heart-wrenching! Yoda fights with a light-saber, and he's the best dueller in the galaxy! I haven't been on a plane yet, either. When you are already in Spain, tell me about it, okay? Did you mean bilestone? Or appendicitis? Because they are really different things – though both of them hurts a lot. Bilestones are more common for men, but both men and women can have appendicitis.

Kat: it's always nice to have new readers, so welcome!

Super saya-Jin Gotan: when am I going to stop torturing Harry? Um… I have just begun…

teacherchez: no, Tatyana is no relative of Voldie, neither was she in love with James. I also think that Kenneth Branagh will suck as Gilderoy. Hugh Grant would have been cool, though :( Aberforth kissed Minerva.

spangle*star: how could Remus love Minerva? She could be his mother! :))

LilGinny: no, Tatyana is no desperate sex maniac :) 39 chapters long. The next one won't focus on Lily, but she'll have more of a role than in TGSoHH and this fic. Yes, SW was really good – much better than EP1.

jeanine23Dr: you asked what kind of music I liked. Well, you will be surprised, but I love Johann Strauss (19th century Austrian composer, the so called 'King of waltzes'.) And of course I love John Williams and all his film scores (especially the HP score and the SW score).

Notebook Girl: no, she does not want to turn young.

Katie Bell: I'm sure that Krum would be delighted to give you one of his samovars :)

thebiggesthpfan: I've been wondering where you have been :) Nice to see you again.

Crazycutee831: the longest review for the story is almost twice as long as your last one. There are other teachers at Hogwarts who aren't insect-looking or 80 years old (at least I think so). SW was good, 9 out of 10. I liked the HP movie, though there were serious mistakes: for example Hermione uttering Voldemort's name. The centaur looked terrible! I didn't really like Herm in the movie – she was downright irritating, but I loved Ron, Hagrid and Snape. Harry was of course just joking about his inner eye. When will I reveal the reason for Tatyana making Harry sleep with her? In chapter… 28, I guess, but there will be bits of information earlier. The climax of the story? Dunno… there will be quite a couple of 'climaxes'… and there will be big-bangs and nasty cliffies as well. Sorry… How many guys read my fic? You mean males? Well… 6 or 7 (that I know of. But there might be more.) I don't know whether I'll write more HP fics after the third one… but I'm quite sure that I won't write SW fics.

Also thanks to: Lupin's Angel, PepsiAngel, Alexander Pheonix, Cassandra Anthemyst, AmandaPanda, princesswitch, Qahira Galatea, Blondie in Disguise, zzxm, Kit Cloudkicker, goldenstar555, Saphron, HerbieWerbie, phoenix6545 (good to see you again!), Coolio, Evil Monkeys Abuser, Sherylyn, howler109, Ari Potter,VeRyWiLdWiTcH, Lavendar Brown, Gryffie, apple-pie (I hope I didn't forget anyone!)

Chapter 22

Stupid Cupid

At about four o'clock in the morning Hermione was awoken by the feeling of being watched.

She didn't need to turn on the lights or even say Lumos, because she could clearly see a pearly-white ghost hovering above her bed.

"Who… are… you?" she rubbed her eyes.

"My name is Anna Karenina." the ghost replied.

"And to what do I owe the honour of your visit, Ms. Karenina?"

"I'm here to warn you."

"To warn me? Against what?" Hermione yawned. "Is the ghost of Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov about to attack me with his axe?"

"No." Anna shook her pretty head. "Raskolnikov's ghost doesn't haunt here. It haunts another castle, as far as I know. But… that's not what I wanted to tell you."

"What then?" Hermione sat up unwillingly. She was annoyed that this mad ghost interrupted her sleep – she had had such a beautiful dream about herself and Ron reconciling!

"It's about your friend, Harry." Anna said. "He is in terrible danger. At least I think so."

"What danger?"

"Someone is… seducing him."

"Seducing?" Hermione laughed. "Oh, what a terrible danger! Really."

"It's no laughing matter." Karenina replied seriously. "He is truly in danger."

"Yeah, in danger of getting punched by Viktor again for kissing his sister." Hermione grinned.

"You are mistaken." Anna declared. "It's not Mileta Krum who is seducing him. She would like to, of course, but it's not her."

"Who, then?"

"Natasha Yanska."

"Who?" Hermione blinked. She didn't remember even hearing of a Natasha Yanska before. Or did she?

"The Potions teacher." Anna said.

"But her name is Tatyana Fiodrovna." Hermione reasoned.

"Yes." the ghost sighed. "And her others names were Olga Yevetha, Svetlana Radovna, Sonya Semyonovna, and so on. You could mention a hundred names at least."

"How do you know this?" Hermione frowned.

"I'm dead." Anna answered. "As a ghost I have the ability of travelling back in time. As you might know, all ghosts can travel back in time until the day they were born. But not before it. I was born in 1863, so I have gone back until then and saw myself being born, growing up… it was funny, really. And I saw this Tatyana as well."

"But… how? She cannot be that old, can she?"

"No, her body is just twenty-eight years old, I guess. But her soul is much older than mine. She – her soul – has been reincarnating for centuries, I guess… it's strange, you know. Only a possessed spirit, that wants something so terribly that it drives it crazy, can reincarnate for so many times… until it reaches its aim."

"What do you mean?" Hermione started to get really worried.

"I mean that I think this woman wants to reach a goal… she has wanted it for centuries, and not reaching it made her spirit obsessed, made it possess the bodies of newly born girls over and over and over the centuries… until in one life she succeeds in what she wants."

"Do you think that it is this life in which she is likely to reach that aim of hers?"

"I don't know." Anna shrugged. "But I have seen her with your friend twice… she bewitched him with a potion… made him believe that she was his wife."

"Ginny?"

"Yeah, he might have said that name…" the ghost nodded. "One thing is sure: now Harry Potter is sleeping beside her, after an exhausting lovemaking session."

"No!" Hermione breathed.

"Yes!" Karenina replied. "I know voyeurism isn't nice, but… hell, I was interested! And now I'm desperate! That woman is trying to do something terrible to Harry!"

"But… she just slept with him, didn't she?"

"No, she didn't sleep at all. After he fell asleep she took her wand and started muttering Latin words which I didn't understand… but I think she was hypnotising him in his sleep... maybe to make him forget what had happened, because then he answered with 'yes', though I'm sure he was asleep… and that's still not everything…"

"What else?" Hermione groaned.

"She muttered an incantation when… when he…" Karenina leaned closer, as though not wanting to speak aloud, "…reached the climax."

"The… oh my!" Hermione sighed, putting her face into her hands. "Are you sure about all these?"

"Positive. I can't have hallucinated, you know… I'm a ghost… cannot drink alcohol and cannot take drugs."

"Why do you think this woman is doing it to Harry?"

"No idea. But it's really fishy. She is up to something, that woman, I tell you."

"I'm going to find it out." Hermione said resolutely. "You can bet I will find it out and stop her hurting Harry."

"Glad to hear." Anna smiled at her and vanished.

* * * * *

Harry awoke in his bed at nine o'clock. He was slightly dizzy and had a funny feeling of having been run over by a steamroller. All he could remember of was having danced with McGonagall, then having heard her quarrelling with Aberforth. But there was Tatyana as well… they had been dancing, then walking a bit in the Japanese garden, then… he headed up to his room because he felt so tired. Yeah, that was it. He was tired. Strangely weak. He hadn't felt that weak since his illness.

"Oh, get a grip, Potter… this must be a hangover, nothing else." he muttered to himself. "But… there was just tea…" he mused as he reached for his pants. "Krum must have put some vodka into it."

After having managed to dress up (this morning even dressing up felt like a difficult exercise), he decided to have breakfast and ask Dennis how his date with Mileta turned out.

However, he didn't even have a chance to reach the staircase because he met with an extremely tired-looking and upset Ms Krum.

"Good morning, Mileta." he gave her a faint smile. "Tired after this night, huh?"

"Yeah." she said with a cold voice, "But my night wasn't by far as tiring as yours, was it?"

He frowned. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Mileta."

"Don't understand, huh?" she crossed her arms. "No need pretending, Harry, I've seen what I've seen and heard what I heard."

"What have you seen and heard?" he asked.

"You. With professor Fiodrovna!"

"And? What's the matter with it?"

"What?" she burst out. "Have you no shame?"

"I really don't understand you."

"Hah! Do I look totally crazy?" she snapped, advancing on him. "You made it clear for me that you had no desire for a relationship with me… but up till now I thought it was because you wanted to remain faithful to your wife, and I have learnt to respect that, but now… I despise you! It's disgusting!"

"Disgusting? What, for heaven's sake?!?"

"You! Shagging my potions teacher!" tears welled up in her eyes as she said that.

"WHAT?" he yelled. "You've drunk too much, Mileta!"

"Drunk? There was only tea!" she retorted. "I saw you leave the entrance hall with her! I shook off Creevey and followed you… saw you enter her room… you were walking hand in hand, of course…" she added with a grimace. "Then I stayed before her room. No one asked me why I was standing there, because everyone was down in the great hall, having fun. And I heard that you and the professor were also having fun!" she spat the last word.

"What on Earth did you hear?" Harry furrowed his brow.

"Moans. Screams. Ooooohs and aaaaahs. And you know, I'm sure you two weren't doing push-ups."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Mileta." he replied seriously.

"NO?" she burst out. "You are really pathetic liar, Harry Potter! And just to inform you: I'm not a bit worse than she is!" Mileta sniffed. "Oh, yes, just one more thing…" she slapped him in the face and hurried off.

Harry just shook his head in disbelief, massaging his sore cheek. *I would never have thought that she'd tell such downright lies just because I've hurt her pride.*

From that day on Mileta did not speak to Harry, to his great relief. He was in the firm belief that the girl had taken drugs and had been hallucinating at the Yule ball – or she had simply made up this 'Tatyana-stuff' to annoy him. Knowing her, he wouldn't put anything past her…

He was surprised to notice that Hermione started spending more time with him than ever before. There was practically no time when she let him out of her sight. Harry put this down to her more than delicate affair with Viktor Krum. Since Ron had accused her of having cheated on him with Viktor, she seemed to be avoiding the Durmstrang headmaster whenever she could.

One day, when Harry asked her about going home for Ron's birthday in one month, she clearly asserted that she did not think he was worthy of her visit at all.

"Stupid, short-sighted git!" she snapped. "I'm definitely not going to visit him. I might send him a Happy birthday card, but that's all. He hasn't even bothered to ask for my forgiveness since I left! Not a single bloody owl! He does not deserve me!" Harry thought he saw tears in her eyes, but he might have been imagining it. However, lately she seemed much more sensitive than before. Harry was sure that her row with Ron was still seriously troubling her and she would happily run into his arms, but she was too proud to admit it.

In that short time that she didn't spend with Harry, Hermione was poring over books in the library or playing the chaperone for Minerva, who – since the Christmas event – seemed to have developed something more than loathing for Aberforth.

On the other hand, the second task was about to come soon and – despite his funny feeling of physical weakness - Harry happily threw himself into the preparatory works. At first all he knew about it was that the champions needed to go down into an ice-cave under the Durmstrang grounds, but later Aberforth filled him in on the details of the task.

* * * * *

One February morning Harry awoke with the feeling that something was about to happen that day. While dressing up, he persuaded himself that he was imagining things and nothing bad would happen at all.

When he reached down to the great hall, the first thing that struck him was that he hadn't been right. Everywhere he looked, he saw pink ribbons hanging from the ceiling, along with huge red hearts.

It was Valentine's Day. That in itself was enough to spoil Harry's day.

"Hello, kid!" Aberforth waved from the staff table. Harry crossed the hall, not hearing many girls snickering at the tables he passed by.

"Good morning, Aberforth." Harry sat down next to him. "You look particularly cheery today."

"Of course I do! It's Valentine's Day!" he smirked. "The coolest day of the year!"

"Are you related to Gilderoy Lockhart by any chance?" Harry asked, stirring his cocoa with a wry face.

"Lockhart? Er, no. Should I be?"

"No. Just… he also likes Valentine's Day. He organised a message-carrier service at Hogwarts… dwarves were the postmen. They looked horrible with wings and golden harps."

"I bet they did. However, Durmstrang does not need dwarves to carry love-letters. We have better than that."

"Oh, not pogrebins, are they?" Harry gasped.

"No." Aberforth shook his head. "Fairies."

"You mean pixies?"

"No, I mean fairies. As I heard it was professor Fiodrovna who hired them to do the show for us today. She is not only a great potions master, but a great friend of magical creatures, as well." the old man said, pointing at the door. "Look."

A dozen of small, stunningly white things whooshed into the hall – although they were about the same size as pixies, they did not look a thing like them. Fairies looked like small human replicas and their genders were easily distinguishable. The females had brilliant, long, golden hair, sky-blue eyes and small, translucent wings. They were dressed in robes that sparkled as though they had been made of ice or snow.

"You want to watch out for the males." Dumbledore said.

"Why?" Harry asked. Nothing seemed to be dangerous about the male fairies: they had shorter golden hair, white knickerbockers and white shirts.

"Because some of them not only carry letters, but bows and arrows as well." the old man said.

"You don't mean they shoot you and make you fall in love with someone?"

"That's exactly what I meant." Aberforth replied, munching a big chunk of toast. "'Course the effect of those arrows do not last longer than a couple of hours, but it's enough for young people to get themselves into trouble, you know… an arrow from one of these, and you'll find yourself being father to a child whose mother you had never seen before Valentine's Day. Dangerous little beasts… watch out!" he grabbed Harry's shoulder and pushed him under the table. An arrow hit the wall right where Harry's head had been a second earlier.

"Thanks." Harry heaved a sigh, crouching under the table. "That was a close one. Really, who do you fall in love with if you get hit by an arrow?"

"The first person you see of the opposite sex." Aberforth replied, peering out from under the table. "The coast is clear."

They both heaved themselves back onto their chairs to finish breakfast.

"Hermione's coming." Harry said. "She seems normal, so I guess she hasn't been hit by an arrow yet. Oh hi, Herm. How are you?"

"Not well." she said bitterly.

"Why? I thought you loved Valentine's Day."

"Not even Lockhart would love it after not having received anything from his love." she said with a sigh and sat down.

"I haven't got anything from Ginny as well." Harry pointed out. "Oh!" he slapped his forehead. "I must send her something! I'll be back in a minute!" he jumped up and ran off.

"Hermione, duck!" Abeforth yelled and pulled her under the table as another arrow whooshed through the air.

"Ah, that too!" she sighed. "I hate Valentine's Day!"

"Does that mean that you aren't entering the kissing contest?" Dumbledore winked at her.

"Kissing contest?"

"Yeah. Couples will have to kiss for ten minutes without stopping, and a jury will tell which kiss was the most beautiful… or funniest." he grinned. "The winning couple gets a two-person broomstick, so I heard."

"Whose stupid idea was this contest?" Hermione frowned.

"Madame Maxime's I guess. Or at least the idea came from Beauxbatons."

"Oh, sure." Hermione rolled her eyes. "French people, French kisses…"

* * * * *

Harry raced up to the owlery to write a letter to his beloved Ginny. Since Hubert had already left, he needed to use one of the school owls.

He sat down on the window-sill and started to compose a letter.

"Well… what should I write? That I love her? She already knows that…" Harry mused. "A poem, maybe? Well, I haven't written her any yet, so… let's see…

When I look into your eyes,

I see golden rays of sun

Glittering on snow and ice,

Bringing me all joys and fun.

When I feel your lips on mine,

I would like to dance and sing,

You are moonlight, you're sunshine,

You make my spirit take wing.

Though I'm far away from you,

My heart and soul are by yours,

I know that you feel this too –

Love is the mightiest force.

Harry put down his quill and told himself that for his very first attempt at a poem it wasn't bad at all.

He attached the letter to a screech owl's leg and headed downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs he heard several squeaky voices call his name. He turned around to see at least twenty female fairies, all flying in his direction, waving with envelopes.

*Oh, not that again!* he groaned inwardly.

"Mail to Harry Potter!" the fairies squeaked in unison, showering him with a bunch of pink letters, then left.

"Just great." he growled, standing in a heap of envelopes. He flicked his wand to make all the letters jump into his hand, but nothing happened. "Malfunctioning, are you?" he sighed. Mileta Krum hurried past him, casting a despising look at him as he crouched down to pick up the envelopes.

"May I help?" Tatyana Fiodrovna stepped to him, and didn't even wait for him to say 'no' – she started gathering the letters, handing them in bunches to Harry.

"Forty-seven. Not bad." she remarked.

"I don't believe… I beat Lockhart!" he muttered, not feeling a bit pleased.

"Lockhart?"

"Never m… Ouch!" Harry yelled as he felt something hit him on the shoulder. He reached out to massage it as a madly cackling archer fairy whooshed across the corridor, up the staircase. "Stupid cupid!" Harry growled, feeling funny – light-headed… it was a bit like when being hit by the Imperio curse – he felt floating, devoid of all concerns… he felt… in love.

"All right, Harry?" Tatyana asked with a smile.

"Yeah… totally… all right…" he mumbled. "Oh, Tatyana, you're so beautiful!"

"Am I?" she smiled.

"I… I love you." he stammered.

"Love me?" she stepped closer to him to caress his face. "Do you want to make love to me, Harry?"

"Oh, I doooo." he sighed.

"Come, then." she took him by the hand to lead him upstairs, when a furious-looking Mrs. Weasley burst out of the great hall.

"Stop where you are!" she demanded.

"Hermione?" Harry cast a bemused glance at her. She knew immediately that he was not all there.

"I need to talk to you." she said.

"Right now?" he groaned, clutching Tatyana's hand even tighter.

"Yes. RIGHT NOW." Hermione sounded peremptory.

"I'll wait for you in my room. Western tower, second floor, door 6." the Potions teacher said sweetly and watched Harry enter the hall with Hermione. "You are going to pay for this, Weasley." she whispered, her eyes becoming slits. "You won't ruin my little game with Potter!"

There was a sound of whoosh in the air and the fairy who had shot Harry, flew to professor Fiodrovna.

"What are you doing here? Where's the guy? The magic won't last long!"

"I know, you little fool!" she snapped. "But that Weasley intervened. She plays the chaperone, not letting Potter out of her sight for a single minute!"

"Should I ask one of my colleagues to shoot her, too?" the fairy suggested. "She could end up in bed with the headmaster and you could end up in bed with The Boy Who Lived."

"Excellent idea, my little accomplice." Tatyana grinned. "Go on, do it!"

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked, feeling dizzy. His unsatisfied desire for Tatyana was driving him crazy.

"I wanted to ask you about…" Hermione began, searching for something to ask. "Where's Viktor, have you seen him?"

"There." Harry pointed at Krum, seriously doubting that she only wanted to ask him where Krum was.

"Oh, I see him." Hermione said, suddenly feeling dizzy. "Have I also been hit?" she mumbled, falling into Harry's arms, unconscious. In the next instance professor McGonagall cried out, furiously massaging her butt, where one of the mischievous little cupids had shot her.

"I'll get you for this, you…!"

"Calm down, Minerva, dear." Aberforth stepped to her.

"Oh, leave me alone, you…" she turned around, then gasped, putting her hands on her chest. "Oh, Aberforth! I'm so happy to see you! Please, forgive me for having treated you so badly all along! Will you ever forgive me?"

"Well…" Dumbledore grinned. "I might… if you kiss me."

McGonagall fell on his neck, sticking her lips to his.

"Eeeeewwww." some of the students wrinkled their noses.

Meanwhile, Harry was feeling like running off with Tatyana, but no matter how deep his desire for her was, his worry for his sister-in-law was greater. He was desperately trying to make Hermione come round.

"Hey…" he patted her face gently. She was as white as a sheet and didn't show a sign of coming round. "Enervate." Harry flicked his wand.

Hermione opened her eyes, blinked and looked around. "What happened?"

"You fainted, Herm." Harry said, seating her on a chair. "Feeling better?"

"Guess so." she muttered. "I thought I was hit by an arrow."

"No, you weren't." he replied. "McGonagall was, though."

"Minerva?" Hermione gasped.

"Yeah. Look."

She turned around to see the aloof and dignified professor McGonagall madly snogging with Albus' mad brother. "Oh, no."

"Yes." Harry replied. "If only I could kiss Tatyana…" he added with a longing sigh.

"Listen to me, Harry." she took his hands into hers. "Avoid that woman. She is up to no good."

"She's a Marauder, then?" he joked.

"No, Harry. She is really, really bad." Hermione said. "Believe me. And also believe me that you do not love her. It's just the temporary effect of the Cupid's arrow. In a couple of hours it will be over… just like with Minerva." she sighed. "I don't dare imagine what she'll do when she realises what she has done… she might go off committing suicide."

"I'll also commit suicide if I can't be with Tatyana right now!" Harry burst out. "I'm going to find her!"

"No!" she shouted.

"You can't stop me!" he yelled and ran out of the hall. Hermione hurried after him, and shouted "Petrificus totalus!" on the empty corridor.

Harry fell to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I had to do this. In your interest." she whispered to him, then looked around to see whether anyone had seen them, but to her greatest relief no one was around – everyone was in the Great Hall, gazing at the McGonagall-Dumbledore couple, who seemed to have a great chance for winning the day's kissing contest.

* * * * *

"You are sacked!" professor Fiodrovna shouted at the leader of the fairies. "All of you!"

"But… mistress…!"

"You could not accomplish a simple task like this? You had to shoot McGonagall instead of Weasley?"

"I aimed at Weasley at the second she looked at Krum… she was still standing then, but in the next second she fainted and my arrow whooshed through the air where she had been, hitting the old wench instead." one of the male fairies said. "Wasn't my fault!"

"Get – out – of – my – sight!" Tatyana shouted at them.

* * * * *

A couple of hours later Harry awoke in his bed, feeling extremely stupid. He tried to remember what happened – and his memories made him feel deeply ashamed.

"Heavens! I almost shagged that woman!" he sighed. "What got into me?"

"You were bewitched." a voice said.

"Anna! Is it you?" he demanded irritably.

Anna Karenina's ghostly form appeared out of nowhere. "Yeah. That's me. You don't need to accuse yourself – your were bewitched by the Cupid's arrow… your were shot on Tatyana's orders."

"What?" he blinked.

"She ordered the fairies to shoot you so she could sleep with you." Anna replied.

"Oh. And do you expect me to believe you?" he crossed his arms.

"Why wouldn't you believe me?"

"Because you're jealous. You fancy me and make up stories to make me hate other women." Mileta had done the same, hadn't she?, he added in thought. He was sure that Tatyana had also been hit by an arrow – or she wouldn't have wanted to sleep with him – would she?

"No!" she yelled. "I only wanted to warn you, Harry."

"Warn me?"

"Yes. Tatyana is evil."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop this 'Tatyana is evil stuff', will you? It was enough to hear from Hermione. Now get out of my room, I want to change into pyjamas."

"Can't I stay and watch?" she pleaded.

"Hell, no!" he snapped.

"Don't be so shy, Harry, I've seen you starkers before."

"Worse than Myrtle." Harry muttered. "If you have seen me that way before, why do you want to stay?"

"Because… I liked what I saw." she grinned.

"Great. Just great. Durmstrang is a peepshow and I'm the one who does the striptease… to a ghost! Really, don't you ghosts have anything better to do than watch people while they dress?"

"But of course!"

"What?"

"To watch them as they take a shower." she replied. "But you are right, there are other things to watch as well: for example there was the kissing contest today."

"The kissing contest?" Harry suddenly remembered Minerva and Aberforth. "What happened to professor McGonagall, do you know? Is she still under the effect of…?"

"No." Anna laughed heartily. "She is in the hospital wing right now… had to be given sedatives to calm down. She was hysteric when she came to her senses and realised that she had… well, you know… she couldn't be cheered up at all… not even by being told that she had won the prize."

"And Aberforth?"

"He is also in the hospital wing… the nurse had to fix his broken arm and leg."

* * * * *

Hermione was lying in her bed, tears coursing down her cheeks. She was watching the stripes of moonlight on the ceiling, not being able to think of anything or anyone else but Ron.

It was Valentine's Day and he didn't even bother to send her a note. She did not desire to get jewellery or bouquets or big heart-shaped balloons… all she wanted was to receive a single line of three words: 'I love you'.

She punched her pillow with her fists, reaching out for a tissue to blow her nose. "I'm not going to cry because of you, Ronald Weasley." she muttered. She forced herself to think of something else: of McGonagall pummeling Aberforth, of herself saving Harry from that woman's clutches, of herself fainting…

Suddenly she sat up, snatched her wand and rekindled the candles. By the light of the candles she started rummaging around in her drawers, desperately trying to find something… a tiny calendar. In the last one and a half months she had been so angry with Ron and so worried about Harry that she didn't care for herself at all. It hadn't even occurred to her to think that…

She took the calendar into her trembling hands and started counting: 28… 40… 58.

"Holy heavens." she gulped. "Could it be…?"

She grabbed her wand, took a deep breath and pointed the tip of it to her stomach.

"Profero graviditas."

Suddenly the wand emitted two little sparks that started to grow, glowing, circling around each other like twin suns.

Hermione sat down on the sofa, gazing at the two little lights, dazed.

She was going to be a mother… of two.

A/N: I must admit that I wrote this chapter back on Valentine's Day. Originally I didn't want to include anything about Valentine's Day, but that day I was in the mood to write fluffy and silly stuff like this.

Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov is the axe-man from Crime and punishment.

In Fantastic Beasts and where to find them Rowling writes that fairies are mute, but I needed them to be able to speak.

Profero graviditas means 'to reveal the pregnancy' (or something like that, I took it from a dictionary, I still don't speak Latin).

Before any of you (especially my thorough friend, X_Tow_Naga) goes into counting the days in Hermione's calendar, let me clear it up: I decided that she got pregnant on the 1st January, when she was in the middle of her cycle (about 13-14 days after the beginning of her previous period). From 1st January to 14th February there are 45 days, and I added those 13 days to it, so I got 58. I hope this a satisfying explanation (especially for the male readers who surely know less about this than the females :)