Author's Note: Occamy and the hermit get the grateful nod this time. Now, let's wrap things up, shall we?
***
Ron left Cho in the Great Hall and went straight up to Gryffindor Tower. He found the common room packed with students, most of them still exuberating over Gryffindor's spectacular victory of yesterday and talking animatedly of how they planned to celebrate the double triumph of being Quidditch Champions and House Champions. It had been a long time since the school had seen a celebration of any kind. Last year's Leaving Feast had been a somber affair as nearly everyone (certain Slytherins excepted) mourned the death of Cedric Diggory. Hogsmeade was preparing for a full-scale invasion today, and it would be a rare student Third Year or above who would be found anywhere near the castle an hour from now.
Through the confusion of excited voices, Ron heard his name mentioned any number of times. It was a unique experience for him, and though he was enjoying all the attention, as anyone would under like circumstances, he began to understand for the first time how Harry must feel nearly every day, being the center of attention wherever he went. Ron had every intention of enjoying his 'moment in the sun' while it lasted. But by tomorrow, he was certain, he would just as gratefully go back to being plain Ron "nobody" Weasley again. He had never owned a goldfish, but he thought he had some idea now of what it was like to be trapped in a tiny glass bowl with no way out. After today, he hoped that bowl of his newfound celebrity would shatter and release him to swim free and unfettered again.
Through the repeated murmuring of his name, he discerned that one such invocation was louder and sharper than the rest. Was someone calling to him? Yes. A quick scan of the crowded room -- made possible by his tall stature, which allowed him to see over the heads of most of the students -- revealed two stuffed chairs standing near the entrance to the boys' dormitories; it was from here that the address was coming, punctuated by a pair of waving arms.
"Oi, Ron!" Fred called out. "Over here!"
Squeezing through the crowd, Ron found the two chairs in question to be occupied by four people. In the chair nearest the doorway sat Fred, with George perched on the arm like a grinning vulture. Harry and Hermione sat together in the other chair, squeezed in so snugly, Ron reflected, that they could have worn the same set of robes.
"Ron!" Harry called out, waving the arm that was not wrapped securely around Hermione's shoulders. "Give it up, mate! You coming with us or not?"
"Sorry, Harry," Ron said, his easy smile taking in both Harry and Hermione. The surprised look that exploded across Harry's face indicated all too clearly that this was not the answer he had expected.
"What? You're joking! You can't miss the biggest bash of the year! Blimey, it's down to you that we're celebrating at all!"
"Oh, I'll be there," Ron returned, his smile morphing into a knowing grin. "We'll probably run into each other before too long."
"Oh, come on, Ron," Fred said. "This is your moment to shine! You don't want to spend it by yourself, do you?"
"Don't worry," Ron said through a grin now almost obscenely wide. "I won't be alone."
"Bloody hell!" George exclaimed, noting the pink tinge beginning to burn his younger brother's ears. "He's taking a bird! Who is it? Lavender? No, she's going with Seamus, isn't she? I know -- Padma! Changed her mind about you after yesterday, hasn't she?"
"Nope," Ron said, thoroughly enjoying his brothers' bewilderment. He cast a brief glance at Harry, whose own eyes suddenly went round as those of a house-elf.
"You don't mean it! Cho?"
"What?" Fred said, accidentally elbowing George to the floor in his excitement. "Cho Chang?"
"You're never!" George said as he picked himself up off the floor and re-perched himself on the chair arm. "You and Cho?" He snorted, the sound echoed by Fred a moment later. Instantly Hermione scowled at both twins.
"And why shouldn't Cho want to go with Ron?" she said defensively. "She's lucky to have him, I say."
"Oh, don't get us wrong, luv," Fred said, his own defenses rising in the face of Hermione's wrath. "He's our brother and all, but I mean, come on! What's a ripping bird like Cho want with -- with -- " He waved his hand dismissively at Ron as if to imply that his very presence was all the validation needed to settle the matter.
"That's horrid!" Hermione said, turning a scathing eye on Fred with more than enough acrimony to encompass George as well.
The explosive potential of the situation was promptly defused by Ron, who laughed as he stepped before Harry and Hermione.
"Come on, mate," he said to Harry. "Let's go up and change. Dress robes, d'you reckon? Gotta look our best for the two loveliest girls at Hogwarts."
Before Harry could say a word, Ron took Hermione's wrists and pulled her up and out of the chair. She was squeezed in so tightly against Harry that she sprang up as if shot from a catapult. Her arms flew around Ron, and she used the opportunity to give him a fierce hug.
"I knew you could do it, Ron," she breathed into his ear as her feet dangled above the common room floor.
"Thanks," he said, clinging to his one-time girlfriend for a long moment.
"Careful there, hero," Harry laughed. "You may have won us the House Championship, but Hermione is not one of the prizes!"
Ron lowered Hermione to the floor, whereupon Harry quickly swept her into his arms. As she settled into Harry's embrace, Hermione looked over her shoulder and lanced his brilliant emerald eyes with her deep coffee-colored ones.
"And don't come the big-head, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived," she smirked wickedly. "We all learned yesterday that Gryffindor can win quite handily without its superstar Seeker, didn't we? And off the field, you'd do well to remember that you were my second choice! I threw off a good man for you, scar-head, so you watch your step, you hear? It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. Am I getting through to you, Potterrrr?" she added in a serpentine hiss that was eerily familiar to everyone present.
"Yes, Madam Snape," Harry said with a click of his heels. As Fred, George and Ron laughed, Harry spun Hermione around and smothered her smirking lips with a kiss that soon had her purring like Crookshanks. When the two of them opened their eyes, their expressions were identical mirrors of dazed contentment.
"Blimey, you two," Ron said, jerking Harry by the collar of his robes. "Save it for the broom cupboard."
With Fred's and George's laughter ringing in their ears, the four boys mounted the stairs to their respective dormitories, leaving Hermione the unenviable task of fighting her way across the swarming common room to her own staircase. Giving Ron a final thumbs-up, the twins took the branch leading to the Seventh Year dorm as Harry and Ron made their way to their familiar Fifth Year quarters.
An odd silence descended as Harry and Ron opened their trunks to pull out their dress robes. Dean, Seamus and Neville had already departed, and the two friends, as they had so often in the past, fell into a comfortable sort of non-verbal communication which transcended words. It was Harry who finally broke the silence, in a casual manner that barely registered on Ron as he fumblingly drew his dress robes over his head.
"I don't envy you, Ron," Harry said cryptically before he finished pulling his own robes over his head, rendering his already messy hair a near-total disaster.
"Hmm?" Ron said distractedly as he tugged at the shoulders of his robes, which always seemed to bunch up at the most inopportune times. "Why's that?"
"Cho," Harry said.
"What about her?" Ron said as he walked over to the full-length mirror on the opposite side of the room and began to comb his hair with his fingers. ("I do wish you'd use a comb, dear," the mirror said, not for the first time.)
"She's still not over Cedric," Harry said as he joined Ron in front of the mirror, which let out a gasp of dismay at sight of Harry's disheveled hair. "We haven't talked for a while, she and I. But I only have to look at her to know. All the time we spent together last term -- well, there were times when she couldn't talk about -- things -- you know? So I learned to 'hear' what she wasn't saying."
"You're right," Ron said as he conjured a comb from nowhere, eliciting a sigh of relief from the mirror. "We've been talking a bit ourselves. I don't reckon she'll ever get over him completely."
Harry suspected that Ron's last statement held a deeper meaning -- one entirely unrelated to Cho -- but he said nothing as he took the comb from Ron's extended hand and began the hopeless task of attempting to tame his unruly hair.
"The thing is," Harry said, "you passed on joining Hermione and me because you didn't want to be part of a threesome. But it looks like you've just traded one threesome for another. Instead of you, me and Hermione, it's you, Cho -- and Cedric."
Ron went very quiet for a few moments, during which interval Harry made every effort to concentrate solely on his image in the mirror. But the image of Ron was standing right next to his, and it was impossible to focus on the one to the exclusion of the other.
"You and I don't have any secrets from each other, do we, Harry?" Ron said very quietly.
"Not that I'm aware of," Harry said as he shrugged in defeat and dispatched the conjured comb with a wave of his hand.
"Then I probably don't have to tell you," Ron said, "that it won't be a threesome so much as a foursome. Me, Cho, Cedric -- and Hermione."
There being no appropriate reply to this, Harry merely nodded.
"There are all kinds of ghosts," Ron said with a wisdom seemingly unsuited to its source. "Given time, most can be exorcised. But invariably, some take longer than others."
"Tell me about it," Harry said, surprising Ron with his growing smile. "If I didn't love Hermione so much, I'd feel a right rotter for being with her under present circumstances. You want to talk about ghosts? Blimey, mate, if I have to listen to Hermione compare me to you one more time -- "
Ron couldn't believe his ears. Hermione comparing Harry to him?
"Get off," Ron said with a smile of his own. "It was always you, mate. I know. I was there, remember?"
"Maybe so," Harry said, his smile now reflecting a profound gratification. "But that doesn't make your 'ghost' any less tangible. You heard her downstairs. If I hear many more choruses of that song, Merlin help me, I'm seriously considering a Memory Charm."
"Ah, she was just havin' you on," Ron laughed. "Doesn't want you to take her for granted, does she?"
"As if I ever could," Harry smiled warmly. "But even if I spend the rest of my life with Hermione," he said in a voice brimming with a hope and longing he made no effort to disguise, "it won't change the fact that you were first to see how unique and special Hermione is, and always has been. And when we both have beards longer than Dumbledore's, I'll still remember that you were first -- and I was second."
"Not just 'second', " Ron said, recalling his morning chat with Cho under the trees beyond Hagrid's cabin. "Second best. With the accent on best."
"How the heck did you get so smart all of a sudden?" Harry grinned.
"Guess," Ron said with an even wider grin.
"I am going to place a Memory Charm on Hermione," Harry chuckled.
"Won't work," Ron said with a regal toss of his head and an insolent tug on the collar of his dress robes. "I'm unforgettable."
"Insufferable, more like," Harry laughed out loud. "A right pain in the arse, you are. Bloody hopeless. But -- " he added earnestly, " -- you're still the best mate a bloke ever had."
"Second best," Ron said with equal seriousness. "You've got first place all locked up. But that's okay. Way I reckon it, being second to Harry Potter beats coming in first in front of anyone else.
"So, Harry," Ron said suddenly as his blue eyes narrowed slyly. "Tell me -- is Cho a good kisser?"
Harry abruptly adopted a sheepish expression. "Dunno. Never kissed her. Things never -- well, they never got that far with us."
"Pity, that," Ron said. "I was hoping we could compare notes."
Harry stepped back so quickly that he nearly fell over Dean's trunk.
"Are you telling me that you -- "
"Blimey, look at the time," Ron said, his brow furrowing as he looked at his watch. "Told Cho I'd meet her in the Entrance Hall at twelve-thirty."
Harry stood flat-footed and open-mouthed as Ron swept toward the doorway. Ron disappeared, only to reappear a moment later, sporting a grin so wide that he could have swallowed his wand sideways.
"Meet you at the Three Broomsticks for butterbeers," Ron said. He slapped his pocket, resulting in an unmistakable clink of coins that echoed from the stairwell. "First round's on me." And with a swish of his elegant dress robes, he was gone.
"Hadn't you better get along, too, dear?" came a voice from behind Harry. He turned to face the dormitory's enchanted mirror, his brow creasing beneath his still untamed hair.
"Mirror," Harry said slowly, eyeing the worn edges and chipped paint of the mirror's frame, "you've been around a while, right? You've seen a lot of things?"
"Ah, the stories I could tell," the mirror said importantly. "I was in the staff room for ages before they bought a new mirror -- " this last with a sniff of disapproval, " -- and moved me up here."
"Know any good Memory Charms?" Harry asked. "Good, strong, unbreakable ones?"
"Sorry," the mirror said. "Very little magic done in the staff room, don't you know. Now, if you want to know about the teachers -- I can tell you things about Professor Snape that will make your hair stand on end -- ahem -- more than it already is, that is to say," she added cattily. "Why not ask Professor Flitwick? More up his street, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Harry said distractedly. "Thanks." In some dim corner of his thoughts, Harry perceived that the mirror was still speaking, more to itself than to him, it seemed.
"I don't know why they bought that new mirror. Totally unnecessary, in my opinion. After all, it's not like I wasn't up to scratch, is it? But no, one day Hagrid comes in with a brand new mirror, and suddenly I'm not good enough, am I?" The mirror huffed indignantly before heaving a weary sigh. "But you wouldn't know about such things, would you, dear? You're Harry Potter, after all. Best at everything, aren't you? Won the Triwizard Tournament last year, didn't you? Even You-Know-Who couldn't kill you, could he? What would you know about being second best?"
"You'd be surprised," Harry said with a ghostly smile and an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He placed his left hand on the inside of his right arm, touching the place where he knew was the thin scar that would forever remind him of that terrible, unforgettable night in the cemetery in Little Hangleton. "You'd be surprised."
And he turned, his bottle-green dress robes flashing, and disappeared down the spiral staircase.
***
Author's Note: Thanks to all who reviewed any of the 6 chapters, and I hope everyone had a good time. Tune in Monday (fingers crossed) for my remaining Fifth Year fic, Signs. See you then.
Ron left Cho in the Great Hall and went straight up to Gryffindor Tower. He found the common room packed with students, most of them still exuberating over Gryffindor's spectacular victory of yesterday and talking animatedly of how they planned to celebrate the double triumph of being Quidditch Champions and House Champions. It had been a long time since the school had seen a celebration of any kind. Last year's Leaving Feast had been a somber affair as nearly everyone (certain Slytherins excepted) mourned the death of Cedric Diggory. Hogsmeade was preparing for a full-scale invasion today, and it would be a rare student Third Year or above who would be found anywhere near the castle an hour from now.
Through the confusion of excited voices, Ron heard his name mentioned any number of times. It was a unique experience for him, and though he was enjoying all the attention, as anyone would under like circumstances, he began to understand for the first time how Harry must feel nearly every day, being the center of attention wherever he went. Ron had every intention of enjoying his 'moment in the sun' while it lasted. But by tomorrow, he was certain, he would just as gratefully go back to being plain Ron "nobody" Weasley again. He had never owned a goldfish, but he thought he had some idea now of what it was like to be trapped in a tiny glass bowl with no way out. After today, he hoped that bowl of his newfound celebrity would shatter and release him to swim free and unfettered again.
Through the repeated murmuring of his name, he discerned that one such invocation was louder and sharper than the rest. Was someone calling to him? Yes. A quick scan of the crowded room -- made possible by his tall stature, which allowed him to see over the heads of most of the students -- revealed two stuffed chairs standing near the entrance to the boys' dormitories; it was from here that the address was coming, punctuated by a pair of waving arms.
"Oi, Ron!" Fred called out. "Over here!"
Squeezing through the crowd, Ron found the two chairs in question to be occupied by four people. In the chair nearest the doorway sat Fred, with George perched on the arm like a grinning vulture. Harry and Hermione sat together in the other chair, squeezed in so snugly, Ron reflected, that they could have worn the same set of robes.
"Ron!" Harry called out, waving the arm that was not wrapped securely around Hermione's shoulders. "Give it up, mate! You coming with us or not?"
"Sorry, Harry," Ron said, his easy smile taking in both Harry and Hermione. The surprised look that exploded across Harry's face indicated all too clearly that this was not the answer he had expected.
"What? You're joking! You can't miss the biggest bash of the year! Blimey, it's down to you that we're celebrating at all!"
"Oh, I'll be there," Ron returned, his smile morphing into a knowing grin. "We'll probably run into each other before too long."
"Oh, come on, Ron," Fred said. "This is your moment to shine! You don't want to spend it by yourself, do you?"
"Don't worry," Ron said through a grin now almost obscenely wide. "I won't be alone."
"Bloody hell!" George exclaimed, noting the pink tinge beginning to burn his younger brother's ears. "He's taking a bird! Who is it? Lavender? No, she's going with Seamus, isn't she? I know -- Padma! Changed her mind about you after yesterday, hasn't she?"
"Nope," Ron said, thoroughly enjoying his brothers' bewilderment. He cast a brief glance at Harry, whose own eyes suddenly went round as those of a house-elf.
"You don't mean it! Cho?"
"What?" Fred said, accidentally elbowing George to the floor in his excitement. "Cho Chang?"
"You're never!" George said as he picked himself up off the floor and re-perched himself on the chair arm. "You and Cho?" He snorted, the sound echoed by Fred a moment later. Instantly Hermione scowled at both twins.
"And why shouldn't Cho want to go with Ron?" she said defensively. "She's lucky to have him, I say."
"Oh, don't get us wrong, luv," Fred said, his own defenses rising in the face of Hermione's wrath. "He's our brother and all, but I mean, come on! What's a ripping bird like Cho want with -- with -- " He waved his hand dismissively at Ron as if to imply that his very presence was all the validation needed to settle the matter.
"That's horrid!" Hermione said, turning a scathing eye on Fred with more than enough acrimony to encompass George as well.
The explosive potential of the situation was promptly defused by Ron, who laughed as he stepped before Harry and Hermione.
"Come on, mate," he said to Harry. "Let's go up and change. Dress robes, d'you reckon? Gotta look our best for the two loveliest girls at Hogwarts."
Before Harry could say a word, Ron took Hermione's wrists and pulled her up and out of the chair. She was squeezed in so tightly against Harry that she sprang up as if shot from a catapult. Her arms flew around Ron, and she used the opportunity to give him a fierce hug.
"I knew you could do it, Ron," she breathed into his ear as her feet dangled above the common room floor.
"Thanks," he said, clinging to his one-time girlfriend for a long moment.
"Careful there, hero," Harry laughed. "You may have won us the House Championship, but Hermione is not one of the prizes!"
Ron lowered Hermione to the floor, whereupon Harry quickly swept her into his arms. As she settled into Harry's embrace, Hermione looked over her shoulder and lanced his brilliant emerald eyes with her deep coffee-colored ones.
"And don't come the big-head, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived," she smirked wickedly. "We all learned yesterday that Gryffindor can win quite handily without its superstar Seeker, didn't we? And off the field, you'd do well to remember that you were my second choice! I threw off a good man for you, scar-head, so you watch your step, you hear? It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. Am I getting through to you, Potterrrr?" she added in a serpentine hiss that was eerily familiar to everyone present.
"Yes, Madam Snape," Harry said with a click of his heels. As Fred, George and Ron laughed, Harry spun Hermione around and smothered her smirking lips with a kiss that soon had her purring like Crookshanks. When the two of them opened their eyes, their expressions were identical mirrors of dazed contentment.
"Blimey, you two," Ron said, jerking Harry by the collar of his robes. "Save it for the broom cupboard."
With Fred's and George's laughter ringing in their ears, the four boys mounted the stairs to their respective dormitories, leaving Hermione the unenviable task of fighting her way across the swarming common room to her own staircase. Giving Ron a final thumbs-up, the twins took the branch leading to the Seventh Year dorm as Harry and Ron made their way to their familiar Fifth Year quarters.
An odd silence descended as Harry and Ron opened their trunks to pull out their dress robes. Dean, Seamus and Neville had already departed, and the two friends, as they had so often in the past, fell into a comfortable sort of non-verbal communication which transcended words. It was Harry who finally broke the silence, in a casual manner that barely registered on Ron as he fumblingly drew his dress robes over his head.
"I don't envy you, Ron," Harry said cryptically before he finished pulling his own robes over his head, rendering his already messy hair a near-total disaster.
"Hmm?" Ron said distractedly as he tugged at the shoulders of his robes, which always seemed to bunch up at the most inopportune times. "Why's that?"
"Cho," Harry said.
"What about her?" Ron said as he walked over to the full-length mirror on the opposite side of the room and began to comb his hair with his fingers. ("I do wish you'd use a comb, dear," the mirror said, not for the first time.)
"She's still not over Cedric," Harry said as he joined Ron in front of the mirror, which let out a gasp of dismay at sight of Harry's disheveled hair. "We haven't talked for a while, she and I. But I only have to look at her to know. All the time we spent together last term -- well, there were times when she couldn't talk about -- things -- you know? So I learned to 'hear' what she wasn't saying."
"You're right," Ron said as he conjured a comb from nowhere, eliciting a sigh of relief from the mirror. "We've been talking a bit ourselves. I don't reckon she'll ever get over him completely."
Harry suspected that Ron's last statement held a deeper meaning -- one entirely unrelated to Cho -- but he said nothing as he took the comb from Ron's extended hand and began the hopeless task of attempting to tame his unruly hair.
"The thing is," Harry said, "you passed on joining Hermione and me because you didn't want to be part of a threesome. But it looks like you've just traded one threesome for another. Instead of you, me and Hermione, it's you, Cho -- and Cedric."
Ron went very quiet for a few moments, during which interval Harry made every effort to concentrate solely on his image in the mirror. But the image of Ron was standing right next to his, and it was impossible to focus on the one to the exclusion of the other.
"You and I don't have any secrets from each other, do we, Harry?" Ron said very quietly.
"Not that I'm aware of," Harry said as he shrugged in defeat and dispatched the conjured comb with a wave of his hand.
"Then I probably don't have to tell you," Ron said, "that it won't be a threesome so much as a foursome. Me, Cho, Cedric -- and Hermione."
There being no appropriate reply to this, Harry merely nodded.
"There are all kinds of ghosts," Ron said with a wisdom seemingly unsuited to its source. "Given time, most can be exorcised. But invariably, some take longer than others."
"Tell me about it," Harry said, surprising Ron with his growing smile. "If I didn't love Hermione so much, I'd feel a right rotter for being with her under present circumstances. You want to talk about ghosts? Blimey, mate, if I have to listen to Hermione compare me to you one more time -- "
Ron couldn't believe his ears. Hermione comparing Harry to him?
"Get off," Ron said with a smile of his own. "It was always you, mate. I know. I was there, remember?"
"Maybe so," Harry said, his smile now reflecting a profound gratification. "But that doesn't make your 'ghost' any less tangible. You heard her downstairs. If I hear many more choruses of that song, Merlin help me, I'm seriously considering a Memory Charm."
"Ah, she was just havin' you on," Ron laughed. "Doesn't want you to take her for granted, does she?"
"As if I ever could," Harry smiled warmly. "But even if I spend the rest of my life with Hermione," he said in a voice brimming with a hope and longing he made no effort to disguise, "it won't change the fact that you were first to see how unique and special Hermione is, and always has been. And when we both have beards longer than Dumbledore's, I'll still remember that you were first -- and I was second."
"Not just 'second', " Ron said, recalling his morning chat with Cho under the trees beyond Hagrid's cabin. "Second best. With the accent on best."
"How the heck did you get so smart all of a sudden?" Harry grinned.
"Guess," Ron said with an even wider grin.
"I am going to place a Memory Charm on Hermione," Harry chuckled.
"Won't work," Ron said with a regal toss of his head and an insolent tug on the collar of his dress robes. "I'm unforgettable."
"Insufferable, more like," Harry laughed out loud. "A right pain in the arse, you are. Bloody hopeless. But -- " he added earnestly, " -- you're still the best mate a bloke ever had."
"Second best," Ron said with equal seriousness. "You've got first place all locked up. But that's okay. Way I reckon it, being second to Harry Potter beats coming in first in front of anyone else.
"So, Harry," Ron said suddenly as his blue eyes narrowed slyly. "Tell me -- is Cho a good kisser?"
Harry abruptly adopted a sheepish expression. "Dunno. Never kissed her. Things never -- well, they never got that far with us."
"Pity, that," Ron said. "I was hoping we could compare notes."
Harry stepped back so quickly that he nearly fell over Dean's trunk.
"Are you telling me that you -- "
"Blimey, look at the time," Ron said, his brow furrowing as he looked at his watch. "Told Cho I'd meet her in the Entrance Hall at twelve-thirty."
Harry stood flat-footed and open-mouthed as Ron swept toward the doorway. Ron disappeared, only to reappear a moment later, sporting a grin so wide that he could have swallowed his wand sideways.
"Meet you at the Three Broomsticks for butterbeers," Ron said. He slapped his pocket, resulting in an unmistakable clink of coins that echoed from the stairwell. "First round's on me." And with a swish of his elegant dress robes, he was gone.
"Hadn't you better get along, too, dear?" came a voice from behind Harry. He turned to face the dormitory's enchanted mirror, his brow creasing beneath his still untamed hair.
"Mirror," Harry said slowly, eyeing the worn edges and chipped paint of the mirror's frame, "you've been around a while, right? You've seen a lot of things?"
"Ah, the stories I could tell," the mirror said importantly. "I was in the staff room for ages before they bought a new mirror -- " this last with a sniff of disapproval, " -- and moved me up here."
"Know any good Memory Charms?" Harry asked. "Good, strong, unbreakable ones?"
"Sorry," the mirror said. "Very little magic done in the staff room, don't you know. Now, if you want to know about the teachers -- I can tell you things about Professor Snape that will make your hair stand on end -- ahem -- more than it already is, that is to say," she added cattily. "Why not ask Professor Flitwick? More up his street, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Harry said distractedly. "Thanks." In some dim corner of his thoughts, Harry perceived that the mirror was still speaking, more to itself than to him, it seemed.
"I don't know why they bought that new mirror. Totally unnecessary, in my opinion. After all, it's not like I wasn't up to scratch, is it? But no, one day Hagrid comes in with a brand new mirror, and suddenly I'm not good enough, am I?" The mirror huffed indignantly before heaving a weary sigh. "But you wouldn't know about such things, would you, dear? You're Harry Potter, after all. Best at everything, aren't you? Won the Triwizard Tournament last year, didn't you? Even You-Know-Who couldn't kill you, could he? What would you know about being second best?"
"You'd be surprised," Harry said with a ghostly smile and an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He placed his left hand on the inside of his right arm, touching the place where he knew was the thin scar that would forever remind him of that terrible, unforgettable night in the cemetery in Little Hangleton. "You'd be surprised."
And he turned, his bottle-green dress robes flashing, and disappeared down the spiral staircase.
Author's Note: Thanks to all who reviewed any of the 6 chapters, and I hope everyone had a good time. Tune in Monday (fingers crossed) for my remaining Fifth Year fic, Signs. See you then.