The chapter of Harry Potter's life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was nearly over.
It might be noted that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's affectionate nickname, Hogwarts, had nothing to do with opening a time warp.
All of the seventh year Hogwarts students had discussed their futures in a College Guidance-like Divination class that day. Their discussed futures, which in all probability had nothing to do with their true futures, involved Miss Hermione Granger regretting dropping Divination back in third year when she found herself in a situation where only Professor Sybill Trelawney's guidance could have saved her, Harry Potter dying tragically soon before graduation, and Ron involved in a complicated scenario where he found himself turned (literally) into an unemployed louse who never got out of Hogwarts and dwelt upon Mrs. Norris.
And so, needless to say, no part of Harry Potter & co. was happy that night when they settled down in the Gryffindor Common Room to discuss what, in all probability, their true futures would be.
"The worst part of it all," concluded Ron "is that that crackpot old fool said I'd never bloody get out of school!"
"School…" said Hermione softly.
"Well, supposedly I won't get out of here either," said Harry, ignoring Hermione. "At least you get to stay alive."
"School…" said Hermione again.
"Bloody hell, Harry! A life as a louse isn't much of a life!" said Ron.
"School…" Hermione said a third time.
"Would you just stuff it already, Hermione?" snapped Ron at his on-again, off-again girlfriend. "We know, we know, 'school…'! We heard you the first five thousand times!"
"I only said it three times," said Hermione, rather defensively, hurt by Ron's anger. Instinct told her that they would soon be in the off-again part of their dating cycle.
"Righto," sighed Harry, hoping desperately that Ron and Hermione wouldn't go off again. He hated playing counselor to them both.
"Don't you even want to know why I kept saying 'school…'?" Hermione asked in utter annoyance.
"Not particularly…" sighed Ron, glancing up in marked interest at one of the second year Gryffindors, a rather pretty blonde girl by the name of Leila Wendell. Leila smiled flirtatiously back at him.
"Pedophile…" hissed Hermione. "She's twelve, goddamnit!"
"Yeah…" said Ron, winking once and still grinning at the pre-teen, "But ever since Malfoy got to her, she's been the easiest girl in Gryffindor!"
Hermione looked nearly heartbroken at this comment, a heartbreak that came from having found out that someone close to her was somewhat less than she had thought he was.
Harry was ready to slap Ron, if only for Hermione's sake. "You'd take Malfoy's leftovers?" he asked, loudly and distastefully enough to make Leila walk off huffily.
"What in hell was that for, Harry?" Ron demanded, not having stayed to watch the juvenile object of his affection's retreat.
"Malfoy's leftovers, Ron?" Harry asked. "Even if he really has been getting to you lately, what could sleeping with a girl that he's already defiled possibly accomplish? You know he'd never let you live it down that your first time was with a girl who had already had him!"
"It used to be your family, now it's sexual inexperience," Hermione said quietly, "He just uses whatever he has against you, that's how he is. Your dad becoming Minister of Magic while his dad got shipped off to Azkaban kind of put a stopper in his old taunt. Don't you get it? All he has now is meaningless sex with girls who still collect stuffed animals, in all likelihood. You have a lot more than that, Ron… and at any rate, you never used to let Malfoy's opinion of me affect you…"
Suddenly it looked as though Ron and Hermione would stay on-again. Harry was visibly relieved.
Still looking slightly frustrated, Ron seized Hermione's hand and brought it to his lips. The gesture, as he performed it, was neither delicate nor elegant, but it was full of undressed emotion, no pun intended.
"I guess you're right," muttered Ron. "Sorry, Hermione… I'll try not to pay attention to him anymore. What were you saying about 'school…'?"
"Just that we should start one," she said, smiling shakily, as one who is relieved to have survived a storm.
(Another Disclaimer, So That All the Lawyers That Think I'm Making Billions Off This Thing Know That I Mentioned at the End of Every Chapter That Only the Plot [That Hasn't Yet Begun] Was My Idea: I don't own Ron. I don't own Ron's future. Unlike some people, if I did own Ron, I wouldn't turn him into my personal sex slave. Apparently I DO own Lucius Malfoy's future, though, because I definitely wrote the bit about him going to Azkaban in February. As of June, WHERE is he? Ohh, ohh… 1-800-IMF-UCKI-NGPS-YCHIC! Call now! But, ok, only J.K. Rowling can really legally do any of this… and come on people, it's fiction!)
