A/N: Well, this one got out quicker! Thanks for all the reviews of the last part!

Disclaimer: Do I really need to say anything?

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Hogsmeade was even more crowded than usual that Saturday. Besides the great majority of third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh year Hogwarts students, the streets were filled with what appeared to be half of the wizarding world. Harry was thankful for this, however, as it would make it much easier to sneak away when one o'clock came around.

Ginny was still in the hospital wing at Madame Pomfrey's insistence. Harry and Hermione had followed Ron up to the infirmary to check on her after breakfast, and though she looked fine to them, Madame Pomfrey had said she wasn't going anywhere until the following day, as she was still rather weak. Fred and George had joined them soon afterwards and had been given the same story that Harry and Hermione had; Ron told them all that Ginny was just suffering from a bit of a cold and wasn't sleeping properly. Harry knew it was a lie, of course, but he had simply nodded and made sure not to appear too knowledgeable about her real condition. He felt sorry because she was stuck in the hospital wing while all of her friends enjoyed the first Hogsmeade weekend of the new semester, but that same selfish part of him that had appeared the day before when he'd found out Professor Lupin wouldn't be joining them resurfaced. It was different, of course, on account of the fact that the main reason he couldn't force himself to feel too awfully bad was because he was just too excited to see Sirius.

And possibly even more excited to talk to Gia for the first time in three weeks.

After Hermione had phoned her parents from the Muggle phone booth, she and Ron disappeared to the bookstore, and Harry, glancing around to make sure that no one was waiting to use the phone, entered the booth and dialed Gia's number. After the third ring, Harry was worried that no one was home; a familiar voice finally picked up, though, and his heart thudded slightly at the sound of her voice.

"Hello?"

"Gia?" He was half-surprised that he could manage his voice properly.

"Harry!" Her voice gave away the huge smile that was playing on her face.

Harry swallowed, thinking that he'd never been so happy to hear his name in his entire life. "What are you doing?"

"Homework. I was afraid you wouldn't get the chance to call."

Harry glanced behind him once more just to make sure no one was in eavesdropping area. "I told you I would."

"I'm glad you did." Her voice was softer, as though she was biting her lower lip shyly. "I miss you."

If she only knew. "I miss you, too." He felt the tips of his ears turn red for no apparent reason.

"How's Hermione? And Ron?"

Harry wasn't really in the mood to discuss his best friends when he finally had Gia's voice in his ear, but he answered her question anyway. "They're fine. Still together."

He heard Gia giggle. "That's good."

He didn't bother asking what was so good about it. He just focused in on the way her laugh sounded and realized that he was starved for the sound of it. "God, I really miss you." He wasn't surprised that he'd said it, as it was the only thing he could think coherently. He was surprised, though, at the tone of voice he said it in, low and completely honest.

There was a second's silence. Then Gia sighed softly. "It's just two months until April." She didn't sound as if she even convinced herself.

"Two months is a long time."

"I know." Her voice sounded just as longing as his did. "But it'll be worth it when it gets here."

He could only imagine. "I know," he said softly, trying very hard not to get too involved in imagining.

"I think about you all the time."

Once again, his heart felt very funny. "Same here." He managed a half- laugh. "My grades are dropping like crazy because of it."

She returned the same sort of half-laugh and said, "Get Hermione to help you."

"She's always busy," he said derisively.

She laughed again. "Well, don't ask any other girls for help."

Harry rolled his eyes slightly, thinking that even looking at another girl seemed foreign at this point and time.

He was way too far gone on Gia.

**************************************

"What are you doing? The bookstore's down this way." Ron turned his head in the proper direction and then back to Hermione, who was suddenly looking rather apprehensive.

"I know," she said quietly. "But let's just go this way." She didn't say anything else, just gently tugged him down a different way, this one leading between two buildings instead of down a main road.

Ron followed her, not at all sure why she was taking such a detour but certainly not protesting the feeling of her hand tucked into his. She led him down the little alley but stopped suddenly and ducked behind a trash bin, pulling him with her.

Out of instinct, he ducked his head slightly and looked at her curiously. "What's wrong?" he whispered, bewilderment all over his face.

Hermione glanced past him just briefly before taking advantage of his ducked head and grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him into a very tight kiss.

A few moments later, Ron stood back up feeling quite dizzy, though extremely content. "What was that for?" he asked, shocked beyond belief that his voice worked.

Hermione, looking a bit pink, shrugged a single shoulder. "I dunno. I just wanted to do it."

Ron studied her for a brief moment before finally breaking into a laugh. "You're so weird."

Hermione glared at him contemptuously. "Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically.

But Ron just laughed again. "It's cute, though."

It was obvious that she was trying very hard to look stern, but she was failing miserably. Before long, she was laughing right along with him.

"Do you want to do it again?" he asked hopefully.

Hermione blushed scarlet for just a second before grinning. "Yeah."

And then they were at it again, Hermione flattening her body against the wall behind her as Ron's hands found her waist and held her there. They were almost overly-eager for each other, as it was quite difficult to find alone time when there were nosy teachers, gossiping classmates, and a lonely best friend to deal with on a daily basis. But no one was around now. And Harry would probably be distracted by his lovesick phone conversation for several minutes at least.

So, Ron and Hermione were both very aware that this left them alone. Together. In a deserted alley. For at least several minutes.

And they certainly made the most of the time.

One of Hermione's hands wrapped itself into the hair behind Ron's neck while her free one searched for one of his own. She found them both gripping her waist, and, never breaking the kiss, she managed to loosen one of them enough to where she could entwine the fingers with her own and their joined hands behind her back and just under the hemline of her coat. She felt Ron's thumb gently rub across her lower spine, and she smiled against his lips; everything about it was just amazing.

"You taste like chocolate," she said a few moments later when they finally pulled apart.

Ron stared at her with a look that would have been identical to the amazement that she was feeling if a feeling and a look could be placed in the same category. And then, all at once, he broke into one of those lopsided grins she'd found herself helpless against and said, "And you taste like toothpaste. But that's to be expected."

Hermione giggled and slapped at him playfully with the hand that wasn't still tucked underneath the back of her coat with his. "Do you think Harry's done yet?"

"Probably." Ron didn't seem to care, as he seemed quite keen on kissing her again.

"We should go find him," she said as their lips stayed touching.

"Probably," he repeated, kissing her once again.

Hermione really didn't want to leave the deserted alley anymore than Ron did, but they'd told Harry to meet them in the bookshop, and she wasn't too eager to answer any questions if they weren't where they'd said they would be. Leaning back just barely, she told Ron that they needed to go.

Ron sighed dejectedly, but straightened back up, drawing their joined hands back to their fronts. "Fine."

She bit her lower lip just briefly before lifting herself onto her tiptoes and giving him a very quick kiss on the cheek. When she lowered herself, she tugged him back down towards the main road, and they walked out into the sunlight, squinting in the brightness of the late January morning.

The bookstore was perhaps the least crowded place in the small town, though Hermione couldn't for the life of her figure out why it was so deserted.

"This really is one of the most resourceful shops I've been in," she told Ron as he hung back and watched while she searched the shelves in the history section. Harry had yet to show up.

Ron nodded absently, admiring more of Hermione and less of the resources in the store. "Some people just don't appreciate good literature."

Hermione turned her head and stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes and smirking. "Shut up."

Ron snickered. "What are you looking for anyway?"

"I'm trying to find a book on Pruitt, Whitton, and Layman." She ran her fingers across the binds of several books as she scanned their titles.

Ron wasn't too excited about reading anything that had to do with the three people who had been the cause of this whole damn prophecy thing to begin with. "Why, Hermione?" he asked sullenly. "We already know we're doomed, why do you need to read about it?"

Hermione sent him a cross look. "Well, we have a better chance of not being doomed if we know what we're up against, don't we?"

Ron still couldn't see the pleasure in reading about their impending risks, but he just shrugged and kept his mouth shut. She was more than likely correct anyway.

She always was.

Several minutes later, she gave an exclamation of happiness. "Yes!"

"Did you find something?"

She nodded and looked upwards, raising onto her tiptoes to try and reach a book several shelves above her head. "Will you get that for me?"

Ron looked up at the rows and rows of books. "Which one?"

"The green one, right there," she pointed up toward a thick green volume, and Ron reached up and easily got it down.

He turned it over in his hands and read the title out loud. "The Rise and Fall of Manicalt."

"There's got to be something in there," Hermione said, her voice speeding up slightly as it always did when she was excited about something. She took the book from him and thumbed to the Table of Contents. "Look! There's a chapter on each of them and then a whole chapter on their revolution."

Ron, still not the least bit enthused, nodded. "Great," he said dully.

"How much money do you have on you?" she asked, ignoring his lack of excitement as she found the price of the book.

Ron dug into his pockets and managed to dig up a handful of sickles and knuts. Hermione leaned over his open hand and counted the money, mentally added it to what she had in her own coat pocket, and then looked back at him hopefully. "Can I borrow it? I'll pay you back when we get back to school."

Ron gave her the money with no intention of taking any payback even though she'd promised. Hermione glanced around and quickly kissed his cheek, thanking him before heading to the register to purchase the new book.

***********************************

"I should go." Harry hated to say the words. He would have liked nothing more in the world than to stay on the phone with her for hours, but Colin Creevey had shown up outside the telephone booth a couple of minutes earlier, and he looked awfully excited about something. Harry decided it was a tossup between either seeing his idol or getting the opportunity to talk to his parents. "Someone's waiting to use the phone, and there's only one."

He heard the pained sigh from Gia's end of the conversation and knew exactly how she felt. This wasn't fair- only getting to hear each other once a month. However, it wasn't as if they had too much of a choice, either. She knew this, too, and after a moment she gave a regretful, "Okay."

"I'll write you tonight," he promised.

"Me, too." After a moment's pause, she once again quietly said, "I miss you."

Harry glanced toward the glass door of the telephone booth to make sure that Colin, or anyone else for that matter, wasn't listening before whispering something else to her. "I love you." It was only the second time he'd ever said those words out loud, both times being to Gia. He'd gotten used to writing them but saying them was a different thing entirely.

Hearing them was even more amazing.

"I love you, too." He closed his eyes just for a second when she returned them, trying to commit the sound of them to his memory. It really was like nothing else in the world.

She made him forget all of his problems.

A few moments later, after they'd regretfully hung up, Harry opened the door to the telephone booth and stepped back outside. Colin was waiting patiently, and he smiled when Harry got nearer.

"Hey, Harry!" he said brightly.

Harry really didn't want to be bothered having a conversation with anyone when he was trying to recall every minute of his telephone conversation in exacting detail. But he couldn't exactly be mean, either.

"Hi, Colin."

"I've got to call my dad," he explained quickly. "It's his birthday today!"

Harry gave him a half-smile. "That's cool."

Colin smiled again before looking as if he suddenly remembered something. "Hey, did you get in to see Ginny this morning?"

Ginny.

There went Harry's blissfulness all in one word.

"Yeah, I saw her after breakfast." He wondered why Colin had a sudden interest in whether or not he'd seen Ginny.

To his surprise, though, Colin looked relieved. "Good. How is she?"

Harry shrugged. "She'll be fine. She'll probably be out by tomorrow."

Colin nodded. "I was just really worried, you know, when I found out she had to go to the infirmary in the middle of the night. And then Rachel and I tried to go see her, but Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let us in. I guess it must be family only or something."

Harry furrowed his brow slightly. "I'm not related to her."

"Yeah, but you were probably with her brothers, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, then that's probably it. But I was still upset that we couldn't see her. I mean, she's my best friend."

There was something new. Harry certainly had never realized that Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey were best friends, but, then again, he'd never really taken an interest in finding out who they were friends with, either.

But still. Colin Creevey?

Surely Ginny could find a better friend than that.

As soon as he'd had the thought, Harry felt awful. That was a horrible thing to think. Colin was probably one of the most genuinely nice people that Harry had ever met in his entire life. He was just a bit overly annoying, though, and Harry hated the way he was idolized by Colin. But Harry was sure that he was fiercely loyal and probably made a very good friend.

"If you see her tonight, could you tell her I hope she feels better?" Colin's voice broke Harry's thoughts. "And let her know why Rachel and I can't get in?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll tell her."

Colin smiled again. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry nodded once more. "Sure."

As Harry made his way down the cobblestone main street of Hogsmeade, he let his thoughts drift back to Gia. She was so perfect- in every way. Harry still had trouble believing that he'd even met her; the thought that she actually loved him was beyond comprehension. But he really did love her; he loved everything about her, and he couldn't remember ever being as happy as he'd been over the Christmas holiday when he'd been able to see her every day.

A startling thought occurred to him, and even though it was more than a bit premature, he still felt an indescribably warm feeling as he pictured it.

He realized that he would be insanely happy when he graduated from school because he fully intended on spending every day for the rest of his life with her.

Harry didn't allow himself to get too far caught up in the fantasy of being happy for the rest of his life, as it would certainly be embarrassing to attempt explaining the goofy grin on his face to Ron and Hermione or anyone else he might come across.

His thoughts were interrupted completely by the sound of giggling, and when he looked sideways toward the designer robe shop, he saw a group of Ravenclaws laughing over something as they studied the display.

"Harry!" He looked over and saw Padma Patil waving him over. With a reluctant groan, he walked over to the group of girls and waited for whatever Padma's reason for calling him over was. "Have you seen my sister at all?"

Harry shook his head. "Not since breakfast."

"Damn," she muttered. "Have you seen Lavender?"

Harry wondered if it was possible to see Lavender without seeing Parvati. He shook his head again. "That last time I saw them was in the Great Hall this morning."

Padma frowned but nodded. "Well, if you see them, tell Parvati that there is a set of robes in there that she would kill for in here." She said all of this very seriously, as though the Fate of the free world was resting on Parvati Patil getting a new set of robes. Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't.

"Okay." He turned and started to walk away just as one of the girls toward the outside of the circle of Ravenclaws turned around and almost smacked straight into him. "Sorry," he mumbled, not bothering to look up.

"Hey, Harry." It was a soft-spoken greeting that he didn't recognize by sound, so he looked up, half-annoyed that someone else was probably about to talk to him about clothes.

They weren't.

"Hi, Cho," he said quietly, realizing that they were the first words he'd spoken to her in months. They'd both done their best to avoid each other, for reasons unknown on the surface but extremely harsh on the inside.

"How are you?" Harry could tell it was a forced question, but he didn't say anything about it.

He simply nodded and sort of half-shrugged all at once. "Okay. You?"

"Okay," she repeated, her eyes searching the ground below them.

There was a crazy long silence that Harry felt was never going to end. Finally, when he couldn't stand it any longer, he said, "Well... I should go find my friends."

She looked up then, nodding slightly. "I saw them go into the bookstore a little while ago."

He nodded again. "Yeah, I'm late."

"Okay," she said softly. "See you later then."

"Yeah," he muttered. "Bye."

Without another glance at the group of Ravenclaw girls, he turned away and started back down the same path he had been traveling moments before. Cho Chang was not a complication that he needed at the moment. She was beautiful and smart and nice and genuine.

All of the things he certainly did not need to be distracted by.

Not to mention the fact that he'd killed her boyfriend. There was also that.

Of course, Harry hadn't been the one to set the killing curse on Cedric Diggory, but he might as well have been. He was just as responsible for Cedric's death as Lord Voldemort or any of the other Death Eaters that had been there that night.

And for that, he would never forgive himself.

He remembered three years ago when he had accused Sirius of murdering his parents, and Sirius had admitted to the crime. Even though he hadn't even been anywhere close to Godric's Hollow that night. Sirius blamed himself because it had been his idea to switch to Pettigrew as the Potter's Secret Keeper.

Now, Harry understood exactly how he felt.

It had been his idea to take that damn Cup together.

Without even realizing it, he stumbled upon the bookshop and was surprised to see Ron and Hermione sitting on one of the benches outside. They both had their heads ducked over a book, but only Hermione was reading; Ron appeared far too preoccupied with taking in the features of her profile while she wasn't looking.

Hermione looked up when he approached them, obviously breaking Ron's concentration, too. "Did you talk to Gia?"

He nodded and moved to sit down. Hermione slid over and let him have some room as he squeezed in between her and the armrest of the bench. "What's that?" he asked, nodding toward the open book on her lap.

She glanced down at it and then back up. "It's a book about Manicalt."

"Hermione reckons it's worth the read," Ron said, looking at Harry behind Hermione's head and rolling his eyes.

She gave him a maddeningly superior look that just screamed the fact that she was going to ignore him. Harry, though, was distracted. He reached for the book and flipped right to the Table of Contents.

"So, it talks about that prophecy shit in here?" His eyes glided over the familiar names of the Hogwarts students from five centuries ago.

"It's not shit," Hermione said promptly, obviously no longer caring whether they swore in front of her or whether she herself swore. Her eyes shone quite seriously. "It's important that we know as much as we can."

Harry looked over at her and was reminded of an eleven year old Hermione whose main goal in life had been to make sure they all knew as much as they could. About everything.

Funnily enough, this time he agreed with her.

"You're right," he said, ignoring the incredulous look that Ron sent him over Hermione's head. "Did they have anything else in there about this?" He nodded toward the bookstore.

Hermione shook her head. "Not that I saw. This was all I could find."

Harry nodded. "Right. So, we read this then."

"Why do you want to read something that you already know will certainly not end well?" Ron asked defiantly.

Harry fought the urge to say that he couldn't comprehend a story actually having a happy ending; every story of his life always ended up miserably. Why should this one be any different?

"Ron, we can't change anything about it. Then or now." Hermione looked expectantly at him. "Do you really want to go into this whole thing completely unprepared?"

Ron got the look that Harry recognized as his 'hate it when Hermione's right' look. It had been a very common expression for five years now, and Harry often wondered when Ron would realize that she was always right.

"Well, if it isn't Gryffindor's Golden Group." Draco Malfoy strolled up to them, and for once he wasn't flanked by Crabbe, Goyle, or Pansy Parkinson.

"And if it isn't Slytherin's Silver Slime," Hermione chirped back pleasantly.

"Good one, Granger," he said approvingly. "Your use of alliteration is astounding."

"Why, thank you," she said just as brightly. "It warms my heart to know that you think so."

Harry quickly shut the book in front of him. "Where're all your groupies, Malfoy?"

Ron snickered from the other side of the bench. "Get real, Harry. He just came out of the bookstore. Do you honestly think any of them know how to read?"

This was almost too much, as all three Gryffindors nearly doubled over with laughter. Malfoy glared at them.

"Well, I saw you in there earlier, Weasley," he said smoothly. "I wasn't aware they gave books away for free, but they must or else you certainly would have no place in there."

"Why don't you do us all a favor and just die?" Ron shot back without hesitation.

The infuriating smirk was back. "I could ask the same of the Boy Who Freakishly Lived. And Lived. And Lived."

"And I could beat the shit out of you, but I'm not going to." Ron glared up at the Slytherin, smartly not getting up from his place on the bench.

"That's right, Weasley," Malfoy soothed. "Don't want you to get in a fight and get arrested for public assault. Your parents might not be able to bail you out."

"At least my parents would want to bail me out." Ron didn't even flinch. "Can't say the same about yours, though."

Harry watched the exchange between his best friend and his greatest rival. He'd let Malfoy get to him a fair amount of times, but Ron let him get through every single time. Harry knew, of course, that their families hated each other, but he'd never fully understood just how deep that hatred ran.

At the moment, though, he didn't really care.

A glance at his watch told him that it was 12:47. They were due to meet Sirius in thirteen minutes, and they were nowhere near the Shrieking Shack. He nudged Hermione as Ron and Malfoy continued to face off. When she looked over at him curiously, he casually placed his wrist over her knee and lifted up the sleeve of his sweater. Hermione got the point as she looked down at his watch, and a second later she stood up.

"Just fuck off, Malfoy," she said clearly, motioning with her head for the boys to follow her.

Both Ron and Harry were knocked slightly with surprise at Hermione's sudden favoring of foul language. Oddly enough, though, the words really didn't sound that strange, even coming from someone as intelligent as the girl in front of them. Without a word, Ron and Harry stood up and followed Hermione away from Malfoy and down the road.

Harry caught a glance of Malfoy gaping after them, obviously shocked- both by the avoided fight and by Hermione's word choice.

"We're late," Harry muttered to the other two as they walked briskly in the direction of the Shrieking Shack.

They hurried up one street and down the next until the neared the huge old house that loomed over Hogsmeade like a hawk guarding its nest. Harry still got the creeps when he saw it even though he knew the full story behind it now and knew that the legend of it being the most severely haunted place in Britain was all a falsity.

It took a bit of planning to sneak into the house without anyone seeing them. The hardest part of getting in was the fact that the door was locked and 'Alohomora' wasn't working.

"That window is cracked," Harry whispered as they all ducked behind a large bush to avoid being seen by a passing group of witches. The window was approximately eight feet from the ground and just barely open; however, it was their only option.

"There's no way we'll fit through there!" Ron hissed back.

Harry looked up at the window and visibly measured the space they had to work with. Then, having no other plan, he turned to Hermione and visibly measured her.

Hermione saw the way he was looking at her and immediately groaned very loudly.

"Come on," he coaxed her gently. "Please. We don't have any other choice."

She looked up at the window and frowned. "I don't think I'll fit," she protested.

"You will!" he said instantly. "You can take off your coat and leave it here; that will save you some space. And then when you get through, you can unlock the door, and we'll bring it with us."

"But Harry..." She broke off, sighing again.

"We'll help you get up there and make sure you don't fall," he promised seriously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The last time you two said that, I fell fifteen feet off of a ladder and almost died."

"That wasn't our fault!" Ron protested immediately. "It was a damn book's fault. That should have taught you right there not to read so fucking much."

Hermione glared at him, and Harry knew they were about to be very much on the losing side. "It won't happen this time, I swear!" Harry gave her the most pleading of looks that he could manage. "Please Hermione."

"Oh, fine," she huffed, unbuttoning her coat and tossing it to the ground. "But if that window slams shut while I'm trying to get through and I get decapitated or something, I'll haunt you both for the rest of your lives."

"Well, if that happens," Ron said teasingly, "maybe you could put in a good word for Sir Nicholas at the Headless Hunt."

They all laughed, even Hermione, who was obviously trying very hard not to. Rolling her eyes, she took a deep breath and looked expectantly at them. They situated themselves in the way that they all thought would be the easiest. Harry made a cradle with his hands, and Hermione carefully placed one trainer-clad shoe into his palms, pushing herself off of the ground and reaching for a lower ledge on the side of the house to steady herself with. Harry was surprised at how light she really was when she wasn't just being a dead weight. She really was extremely small. Sometimes he forgot that.

"Why couldn't Snuffles have taken care of this?" she asked testily as Ron gripped her waist and hoisted her higher with Harry pushing her upwards.

Harry had to wonder this himself.

Ron, however, didn't seem to care. He was struggling slightly, trying to balance Hermione over his head; Harry had to admit that the feat was getting more difficult by the second even with two of them working on it. Ron actually looked quite annoyed. "Jesus, Hermione, shut up and hurry! You're getting heavy!"

Harry closed his eyes, wondering if Ron would ever learn. Hermione wasted no time in deftly moving the foot that was steadying her against the wall and aiming it straight at Ron's chest. Luckily, though, Harry caught it before she actually kicked him, causing them all to tumble to the ground in a heap.

"You called her fat again," he whispered warningly at Ron.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I did not."

"I can hear you!" Hermione called down angrily.

"Hermione, just go!" they cried at the same time, both of them knowing that they were mere seconds away from dropping her.

"I'm trying!" she yelled back huffily. "I can't reach it!"

Harry groaned, and Ron grumbled as he struggled to hoist her higher. "Just reach for the ledge and pull yourself up," he called.

"No shit, Sherlock," she called back just as annoyed. Harry snickered at the completely clueless look on Ron's face. "I cannot reach it!" She pronounced each word as though she was trying to get an incredibly simple idea through two incredibly thick skulls.

Harry took a deep breath. "Okay, on the count of three we're going to boost you. Try to grab onto it then." He looked at Ron who nodded. "One... Two..."

A loud rapping caused both boys to start violently and, in the process, caused them to both be knocked off balance enough to where all three of them fell to the ground. Hermione yelled as she landed heavily on top of Harry's chest. Harry grimaced and let out a rather loud "Oomph!" when she landed. She was light, but she wasn't that light. Especially not when falling full-force onto him.

It didn't help when she caught her breath a second later and wasted no time at all in smacking him rather hard across his already bruised chest. "Ow!" he cried in protest, but she just poked at him quite roughly and went off on a tangent.

"Never again!" She was fuming. "Never again!"

"Get off, Hermione!" he said, not knowing how much his poor body could take. He sat up and shoved her, causing her to land on the ground. This, of course, only gave her better access to Ron, who she punched straight in the gut.

"I'm never trusting you two again! Ever!"

"It wasn't our fault!" Ron protested loudly. "What the bloody hell was that?" He sat up and looked around.

Harry did the same thing, ignoring the way Hermione was still fuming.

All three of them jumped, though, when the rapping was heard again. Harry's head spun toward the house, and a grin covered his face.

Sirius Black was standing in the shadows of one of the lower level windows and motioning them toward the back of the house.

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A/N: Please review!