Chapter Five: Good News and Bad News

*Sorry about the wait, all. But the next chapter is finally up! In which you get, well just see the title. Harry gets "sick", and Ron does not get any more self controlled. Predictably.*

Disclaimer: Once upon a time, in a (Scot)land far, far, away, there lived a great, great lady called J.K. Rowling. She cursed away all the evil writing block pixies and wrote a great, great book called Harry Potter. And all the little people loved these books so much that they wanted to write something about the characters too. But they didn't own them.


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I'll be way down a silver road, I'll go
Where the moon has it lit up
Turn off your headlights and go slowly
I don't want it to let up
Have you been thinking that you were all alone
Well I still thought of you

-Sarah Harmer and the Tragically Hip, "Silver Road"



Ron was in the main hall, which had been transformed into a sublime ballroom, wreathed with swathes of fabric that were a different color in every light. He was dancing with Hermione, her face sweetly uplifted to his, as they glided over the floor. They had eyes only for each other. He brushed her cheek with his hand, and lowered his mouth to hers, when -

Someone was shaking his arm, persistently, and calling his name. Ron turned around, to see the familiar hooked-nose and grim visage of Viktor Krum. And suddenly the ballroom wasn't a ballroom, it was a dungeon, and he was locked in there with Krum outside laughing, and laughing, and -

"Ron? Ron, wake up!"

Ron shook his head, and opened his bleary eyes to see the round concerned faces of Neville and Ginny. Neville's eyes were wide and his brown hair flopped over his forehead, as Ginny shook Ron's shoulder again. It was funny, because he didn't know where on earth he was.

"Have you been here all night, Ron? It's almost breakfast time."

Ron looked about him. He was in the couch by the fireplace. The fireplace - Hermione -

He jumped up. "Oh God!"

"What is it? Are you all right Ron?"

"Uh, I just realized that I have to get down there quickly. I'll see you two later. Um, yeah." Ron explained all this in a most flustered manner, scrambling to get up the stairs and to his room.

Harry wasn't there when he got there, something he found peculiar, because Harry hadn't woken him up. Ron hurriedly got dressed, grabbed his books, and sprinted downstairs.

"All right, so when I see Hermione, I act completely normal, absolutely sane, nothing strange at all. I'm just her friend, which is the only reason why she would say all those things yesterday. I refuse to think about that dream I just had, and I should assume absolutely noth-ow!"

Ron touched his forehead gingerly, looking at the door to the main hall, which he had forgotten to open before walking through. He could feel a bump swelling up. Sighing, he opened the door.

The usual noise greeted him. Making his way over to the Gryffindor table, he tried to see Harry and Hermione from where he was, and finally spotted them. He composed himself as he walked over, noticing Hermione's shiny hair from behind.

"Morning, you two," he said as he slid into the spare seat, "would you believe I just woke up?"

Hermione turned a fully disgruntled face towards him. "Yes, but you're still a lot more awake than someone we both know. Welcome to the post-date dreamy syndrome."

Ron, confused, looked across at his friend, and realized just what Hermione was talking about. Harry seemed to be awake, but his face had a far away, dazed expression that appeared permanent. Ron waved a hand in front of his face. Harry did not see it at all.

"Apparently Dean and Seamus had to get him ready for school themselves. He's been like this all morning! Honestly, I think his brain has disappeared." Hermione helped herself to another boiled egg. "And just imagine what Snape's going to do to him if we can't snap him even partially out of this!"

Ron winced.

"I've tried pretty much everything short of dunking his head into the cold toilet bowl in Moaning Myrtle's stall."

Ron grinned. "That would be great for her self-esteem, we've been avoiding her for years now. And who can ignore the melodious wails of our dear Moaning Myrtle?"

Hermione giggled. "Yes, it would be funny, but something has to be done. I mean, I'm fine with people being lovesick in moderation, but this! He'll forget to breathe pretty soon, I'm sure."

"Agreed." Ron leaned over, positioning himself by Harry's ear. " HARRY! Harry are you there?" There was no response. "Wake up!" Silence.

Ron sighed. "Well, I hoped I wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures, but it's time."

Hemione nodded solemnly, a look of mischief in her eyes. It was peculiar, Ron thought, that for friends to talk this way was normal, but the instant that it was a possible love interest it became 'flirting.' Not, of course, that he didn't thoroughly enjoy it all. And there was something particularly nice about whenever Hermione complimented, or supported him. It meant nothing to her, but all the world to him.

Ron gasped, then pointed. "Oh, hi, Cho -"

Harry jumped, turning his head so fast that it would have startled Ron if he hadn't expected it.

"Cho's not here, Ron - where am I? How did I get here, I don't remember waking up -"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Ron felt the usual emotions he felt in her presence now: numbness of the tongue, and a very weird glowing feeling. And then they both burst out laughing.

Once they recovered, Ron turned to Harry. "So, what happened?"

Harry's eyes seemed to drift dangerously close to his coma before -

"Without picturing it! Please!" Ron said, starting to laugh again.

"Please," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "We're both very anxious to know, but quite honestly, the fact that you go into a catatonic state every time you think about it is frustrating, to say the least.

Harry opened his mouth slowly, and began. "Well, we went to Honeyduke's first, and we talked, and she said she was sorry that she had to hurt my feelings at the Yule Ball - she said she was sorry! Wow, hey? I mean, I was just sitting there going Wow, this is so, Wow -"

"He's like a broken record, Ron, honestly," Hermione said. "I'd hit him on the head, but I'm afraid it might just make it worse. Harry, keep going!"

"And so then we were just walking along the road, and then I don't know why, I think it just kind of slipped out, but I told her that I really, really liked her. And then she didn't say anything, and I got worried, but then she -" A look of rhapsody came over Harry's face. "She -"

"Well he's never going to be able to say it, so I might as well. She kissed you, didn't she, Harry?" Ron patted his friend on the back. "That's great, Harry! I'm really happy for you."

"So am I, you've been waiting for this for forever, I should have guessed sooner why you seemed to be knocked out. That's wonderful." Hermione reached across the table and shoved a piece of toast into Harry's mouth. "Happy as you are, you can't live on love. Eat."


***


Halfway through the day, Harry regained complete control of his faculties, and could finally participate in a normal conversation without constant prompting. Ron had noticed that Lavender and Parvati kept a great amount of distance between themselves and Hermione, something that seemed to amuse her very much. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were, thankfully, not present that day, as they were in the Infirmary, a result from their tragic overindulgence in Butterbeers. It made for a strangely slightly civil Potions.

The overwhelming question on everyone's mind was, however, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. No one knew whether it would be Snape, or someone even worse than Lockhart.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione walked towards the classroom. It seemed as if not only their class, but the whole school was there to see just who was the new teacher. As they tried to push through the huge crowd, Ron heard a familiar voice, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, realized just who it was.

"Now, all of you who don't have the actual class please exit. I have a very tight agenda, and extensive research to do on the black magic market. You are merely wasting my time. You, 10 points from Slytherin! Out, now!"

"Do you have any idea who it is, Ron?" Dean was looking at him quizzically. "Because I don't know if it's just me, but that voice really does seem to ring a bell somewhere."

Harry nodded. "Yes, it's really odd, who is that?"

Hermione looked at Ron. "Oh Ron, maybe he won't be as bad this year. I mean, you never know, right?"

Ron looked at Hermione. "You have got to be kidding. He is as bad, without a doubt." Hermione looked concerned, and Ron found himself diverted from the present dilemma to once again reflect upon how her face seemed to take everything that was beautiful in the world and use it perfectly.

At the desk there stood a tall figure with red curly hair, a superior expression, and an armful of binders overflowing with research.

"Right then class, take your seats, and we'll begin. I am Professor Weasley, and also your new teacher."

Harry managed to close his mouth. "Percy?" he whispered to Ron, a completely shocked look in his eyes. Ron nodded resignedly

"Oh no, this class is going to be awful - I mean, do you remember what it was like when he was Head Boy? Now he'll be marking us - it's a nightmare." Harry was still shaking his head in amazement, along with the rest of the class.

"Well it's all my fault really Harry, I asked how this year could possibly get worse and that just set it all off."

"Potter and Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor, stop talking."

Ron banged his head down on the desk. This was just great.

He had a crush on one of his best friends. His other best friend was head over heels in love. He would never get up the nerve to ask out his crush, and would probably end up watching her dance with someone else at the Year End Ball. And his annoying older brother was his teacher.

***

After the class from his worst dreams, Ron stumbled out of the room with Harry and Hermione, all of his hopes thoroughly exterminated.

"Please, kill me now, maybe a curse or something. I just can't take this. Not only is he supervising me now, when I fail his class Mum won't ever see that he marked too hard or something, it'll be because I didn't try. And then Percy will back her up. I'm dead. Officially."

Harry patted his shoulder. "You'll survive. No need to worry. Blood is thicker than water."

Hermione smiled at him. "Yeah, it's better than Lockhart right? Anyway, don't worry. It's just for this year. You've made it through -" Hermione lifted up one hand and began counting it off on her fingers. "An ogre, McGonagall's chess game, Hagrid's various cuddly creatures, Draco's brilliance, the Whomping Willow, Acromantulas, Lockhart, now there's a big one, five years with Snape as a teacher, and most of all, life with Fred and George. You're ready for anything, really."

Harry nodded. "Exactly."

"Point taken. I reserve my request for after the O.W.L.S."