Chapter Eight

Friends and More

Fred and George both flashed identical grins upon seeing their sister and Hermione standing in the middle of Harry's living room. To Harry, they didn't seem especially surprised to see them there. It was almost as if they expected it sooner or later.

"See youcouldn't stay away," Fred said to them casually.

"I wonder what was in that letter Ron was writing Hermione…" George mused innocently. He turned to his younger brother. "Oi, Ron! Still hot are you?" Both Ron and Hermione turned various shades of crimson and looked ready to sink through the floor with embarrassment.

Hermione turned to Ron angrily. "Since when does George read my letters?"

"Since he wrestles them out of my hands," he answered her, clearly annoyed.

"Just be glad it wasn't a dung-bomb. It took me ages to get the stink out, right Fred?" Lee chuckled good-naturedly. Harry thought Lee looked much happier now compared to the end of last term, probably due to his new employment with his best mates.

Dudley took this opportunity to butt into the conversation. His face was turning bright purple and Harry thought he very much resembled Uncle Vernon at the moment. "What… who said…" he sputtered, pointing at the group of witches and wizards. "I'll not have any more of your kind here, Potter! Do you here me? I'll not have it! I'll-I'll…"

But exactly what he would do was never revealed. One menacing look from the twins was all Dudley needed to shut him up. To the surprise of his friends, he slumped in the corner and didn't say another word. Everyone ignored him and went on as if he hadn't said a thing.

Harry turned to the Angelina, Alicia, and Katie. "I knew that Lee was coming, but why are the rest of you are here?" he said more sharply than he intended.

"Hullo to you too, Harry!" Alicia called out cheerfully from the middle of the group.

Katie moved closer. "Wotcher Harry! You may be famous, but you never were one to charm the ladies, were you? That's okay, though. We forgive you," she said grinning, as she slapped him good-naturedly on the back.

He looked around nervously at the Muggles, who were looking confused and trying to work out why Katie had said such a ludicrous thing. Ignoring it for now, Harry said apologetically, "I am glad to see you, just surprised. Sorry… I seem to be putting my foot in it a lot today."

"It's a fair question," Angelina said understandingly. Harry was glad to see she had finally forgiven him for getting kicked off the Quidditch team. He supposed winning the Cup helped her to forget that nasty business. "We were meeting the boys at the shop to test out one of their new inventions. But, of course they forgot."

Fred had the decency to look ashamed for a brief moment. "So, George invited them here to make it up to them."

"Hope you don't mind," George said, sidling up to Harry and jabbing him in the ribs.

"I thought you said your shop was in London. How'd they get here so fast?" Piers said suspiciously, pointing to the new arrivals. Dudley, still slumped in the corner, paled and began coughing vigorously.

The witches and wizards all exchanged furtive looks, but George said indignantly, "We called them up and told them to meet us here, of course. Do you think they could just appear out of nowhere?"

As Piers was still mulling over this, Fred swept Ginny up in a big-brotherly hug.

"We missed you this week, little sister. Ron," he said, shooting his brother a disgusted look, "has been no help at all. He tends to get all shirty when we test our products on him. And he calls himself a Weasley! No sense of humour…" he said, shaking his head sadly.

"If you would bother telling me beforehand, I might not get so shirty," Ron mumbled defensively. "I don't fancy having nasty, hairy spiders pop out at me when I'm opening a can of tea, that's all."

Addressing the Muggles, Fred waved at Ron and said, "Don't mind him. He's just sore because we took the mickey out of him a few days ago." Turning back to Ginny, he chuckled, "You should have seen his face, Gin-Gin. It was brilliant!" Pulling at a lock of her new hairstyle, he teased, "Getting yourself all fancied up for Harry, now are we?"

"Shut it, you!" Ginny said good-naturedly. "For your information, Hermione's parents have been very generous to me this week." Shaking her mane of loose red curls, she added, "I happen to like the effect and was thinking of keeping it for awhile."

"Mum'll have kittens when she sees it," George said, giving her an appraising look. He nodded approvingly. "I like it."

"Me too," Harry said quietly, startling himself and everyone else. In the awkward silence that followed Harry's comment, Ginny gave him a funny look. He coloured, both from embarrassment and from her gaze, wishing fervently he had kept his mouth shut. As he silently kicked himself for his stupidity, he had to wonder why every time he looked at her tonight he kept feeling a strange jumping in his chest, like he was nervous and excited all at once. It was unnerving him.

While Harry was thinking these things, Claire took the opportunity to wedge herself into the conversation. "I think it's just lovely," she said, addressing Ginny in her most charming voice. She extended her hand. "Ginger, isn't it? I don't think we've met yet. My name is Claire. Harry and I are old friends." She held out her hand for Ginny to shake. Ginny looked at her strangely, but shook her hand in return.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, throwing Harry an odd glance. "I'm Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

Taking the hint, Harry jumped in. "I'm sorry… I suppose I should introduce everybody." He worked his way around the room and made the introductions, learning the two girls he did not know were friends of Claire's from school, Daphne Simpson and Mary Price.

George said flirtatiously to the twins, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, lovely ladies."

"And what lovely ladies you are…." Fred added wagging his eyebrows. The twins giggled in delight while everyone else rolled their eyes.

"Don't mind them, girls," Angelina told them warmly. "They're a bit barmy, but you'll get used to them."

"Eventually…." Alicia added with a grin.

"Maybe…" Katie sighed. "If you're lucky."

Claire turned to Ginny. "So, how do you know Harry?"

Ginny seemed astonished at the question. "Er… umm…." she stammered, looking helplessly at the others. Harry guessed it was because of his fame in the Wizarding World that Ginny was having a hard time answering. Or maybe she was just caught off guard and didn't know how much she should say. "Harry's friends with my bothers," she said finally, her cheeks reddening.

"We attend the same school," Hermione offered.

"And we played on the same football team as Harry," George added.

Claire eyes narrowed. "I didn't know they allowed girls at St. Brutus's."

"St. Brutus's?" Ginny repeated, confused.

"St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys," Claire said. "That's where Dudley says Harry goes to school."

"No…." Ginny said, looking at Harry for clarification and received an amused look in return.

Ron caught Hermione's eye. "That's where they've been telling people he goes during the year," he said.

Hermione looked ready to explode at the news. "Why would anyone believe Harry could possibly attend a school for criminals? That's ridiculous!"

Everyone else in the room who knew the real Harry began to mutter angrily amongst themselves while the Muggle girls, who had never heard this before, looked shocked and the Muggle boys refused to meet anyone's eyes. Dudley's face was positively ashen now and he looked as if he was breaking out in a cold sweat.

Claire threw her nose up in the air and whirled on him. "Duddy, I think you need to explain," she demanded.

"Do we have to go through this again?" Dudley said tiredly, looking at Piers and the others for help. Piers obviously had not forgiven Dudley for the lie, because he did not offer to help Dudley out of this awkward situation.

He answered her finally, sounding as if he was choking on every syllable. "My parents want everyone to believe that so no one will ask questions about his school." Harry thought he looked positively ill.

"Then were do you go to school?" Daphne asked.

"It's a prestigious school up North," Harry told her. "The same school my parents attended." Hoping that Claire would not demand to know the name of the school and that she would drop the subject, Harry smiled a genuine smile and clapped Dudley on the back. "Feels nice to tell the truth for a change, doesn't Big D?"

"Whatever, Potter," he said through clenched teeth, and Harry knew he'd better watch his back after tonight. Dudley wasn't likely to forget this.

Claire smiled even wider at the news. "Well, well Harry Potter," she said, hooking her arm through his and pulling him aside to stand by her. "You are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Duddy…" Claire said, staring at Harry. "Turn on some music and getting me another drink. Harry, here, is going to show me around." She attempted to snuggle up to him, much to his horror.

Noticing Dudley's murderous look, Harry peeled himself away from Claire who was hanging on him rather tightly. "How 'bout I handle the music?" he told her. "I'm sure Dudley would do a much better job of showing you around." Turning to Fred and George, he asked, "Did you get the items you went after?"

Claire gave a frustrated little huff at Harry's less than attentive behaviour but he barely noticed. Ginny's angry expression had him distracted and he was trying to recall if he had done or said something to make her hacked off at him again. For some reason he found himself caring very much what Ginny thought about him, and that confused him slightly. Since when did what Ginny think matter to him?

Since the moment she showed up on your doorstep looking so different, you git, he thought.

Harry shook himself out of his stupor when Fred answered his question.

"Sure did," he said, grinning. He brandished the bottle of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey and pointed to some other things sitting on the table. "I also picked up the items my little brother requested," he said, indicating two cases of Butterbeer Special and another case of plain Butterbeer like Harry was already used to from his trips to The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. "What some?"

"I'll have the plain stuff, thanks," Harry said, moving towards him.

"Come on mate," Fred pleaded, attempting to hand him a bottle of the alcoholic Butterbeer. "You need to loosen up. You're under too much stress as it is… you deserve to let loose a little after you know what."

"Yeah, mate," George agreed. "When was the last time you had some fun?"

Annoyed at having his situation brought up in front of others, he said tightly, "Just the regular stuff, mate."

"Fine, fine…" Fred said, handing him the bottle of plain butterbeer. "Have it your way. But one of these days you're going to internally combust from all that pressure, and I hope I'm not around to see it," he muttered.

"Since you're offering," Ginny piped up, "I'll take one."

"Do you think we have a death wish?" Fred answered her. "Mum would kill us if we let you drink!"

"Come on…" Ginny pleaded, turning to George for support. "Please?"

"I'm with him on this one, Gin-Gin. Unlike some people," he said, eying Harry, "I don't have a death wish."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry said testily.

"Nothing… forget it," George said quickly, avoiding his family's significant looks and Ginny's angry one. He darted his eyes around the room nervously.

"What aren't you telling me?"

George glanced at Ron and Fred, but avoided looking at Ginny. Everyone, including the Muggles, was staring.

Ginny stepped in and said quietly, "It's nothing, Harry. Mum was just pretty upset after what happed to Sirius. She gave us all an earful when we got home about irresponsible behaviour and taking too many chances. She doesn't blame you, Harry, but she was pretty put out that Ron and I were involved."

Harry looked at Ron for confirmation. He nodded but said, "We'd do it all over again, mate. Ginny and I don't regret being there. Mum's just being protective. She made us promise not to do anything like that again, and to do our best to stop you next time. It's only because she cares so much…."

Harry quickly took a swig of the cold beverage to calm his nerves. It was extra cold, and he wondered if it had been charmed to stay at a certain temperature. He didn't know what to say. Somehow words were just not enough to express how sorry he was that he had dragged everyone into what turned out to be a trap.

"There won't be a next time," he said flatly, turning away and stalking off.

He heard Hermione call after him, but he ignored her. He needed to escape before anyone saw the tears forming in his eyes.

When he returned, he found that everyone had busied themselves with pouring drinks, grabbing handfuls of Aunt Petunia's party food, milling around the room, and selecting music. To his great relief, no one said anything to him about what happened earlier.

Claire was the first to see him standing awkwardly in the doorway. She dragged him over to the stereo to help her flip through the choices of music Dudley had provided. Harry had never heard of any of the groups, but did not want to admit it to her. Instead, he politely told her to choose something, and made his way across the room to join Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

Ron had spied Vernon's chess set that sat high on the shelf collecting dust since Aunt Marge had given it to him for Christmas five years ago. Vernon never played 'the noble game' as his uncle called it, but he had once tried to entice Dudley to learn. Dudley flat refused, probably because it required too much thinking. Harry was under strict orders not to touch it, even though he was the only one in the house who actually played.

"Would it be all right if I got that down?" Ron asked him.

"I don't see why not," Harry said. "Uncle Vernon doesn't allow me to touch it, but, seeing as he's not here…" He grinned.

"Right," Ron said, returning Harry's grin. He didn't seem to need further encouragement and quickly stood on tiptoe to retrieve the Muggle chess set from the high shelf.

The small group moved into the kitchen with the game. Ron set it down on the table and then stood back and looked at it in confusion. All of the pieces were placed pristinely on the board, standing quietly at attention in their proper places.

Hermione, seeing his bewildered expression, whispered, "It's the same rules as wizard chess only you have to pick up the pieces and move them yourself. They don't talk and they definitely do not bludgeon one another to death."

"Where's the fun, then?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione huffed. "Does a game have to be violent in order to be fun?"

"Nooo…." Ron said slowly, rolling his eyes as if it were obvious. "But it sure does make it more interesting." His comment earned an audible sigh from Hermione.

Turning to the chess board and blowing a layer of dust off the top, he asked, "So, who wants to have the honour of going first?"

"I think you and Hermione had better have the first go," Harry said. "You know how bad I am at wizard chess," he added in a hushed tone, "and I'm even worse at Muggle chess. It really wouldn't be a fair fight."

"All right then, I guess it's me and you 'Mione," Ron said casually.

If Hermione noticed the odd use of her name, she did not let on. Sitting down at the table across from Ron, she asked him seriously, "Which do you prefer, white or black?"

"Well…" Ron said, his chin resting on his hand in a thoughtful gesture, "…I usually play black at home because the pieces will almost always do what I tell them, but I don't have to worry about that here so you choose."

"White will do fine, Ron," Hermione said smiling sweetly.

Since it was already set up, all they had to do was rotate the chess board to the correct side. Hermione launched into a detailed montage of the history of chess, whispering the key differences between Muggle chess and wizard chess when no one else was around. Harry noticed Ron's eyes began to study the board right away as she talked, already analysing potential strategies. Both looked very content.

Harry and Ginny watched them play chess for a while until Harry noticed Claire begin to weave her way back towards him. Thinking quickly, he leaned over to whisper in Ginny's ear, "Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

The close proximity of the innocent act made his stomach do that strange little flip again, increasing his nervousness. Somehow, it felt strangely good, making him want to do it again. But he resisted the urge to remain close to her and backed up several paces.

"I'd love to," she grinned. Just as Dudley moved in to waylay Claire, Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and ducked into the hallway heading upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, Harry stopped. "Let me give you the abbreviated version, since technically I'm not allowed in any room other than mine.

"First," he said, waving his hand in the direction of a closed door at the end of the hall, "is my aunt and uncle's bedroom. I won't bother taking you down there because it will be locked. They don't trust me, you see, so they will have locked it up just in case I would ever get the urge to go exploring into forbidden territory." He laughed wickedly. "Like I'd ever want to do that! Ugh!" he said, smiling. "Just the image of those two in bed together gives me the creeps!"

Ginny's laugh at his comment made him feel all tingly and slightly giddy. The feeling was a stark contrast to his earlier depression and made him urn to hear it again.

"Next," Harry said, shaking himself out of it and pointing to a door to the right at the far end of the hall, "is Dudley's bedroom - easily the biggest bedroom in the house, yet he complains that he doesn't have enough space for all his rubbish. Most of it deserves the bin anyway, if you ask my opinion… which no one does, of course. I won't take you in there, either, because it is not fit for human habitation. Besides, I doubt Dudley would like it if he found us poking around in his room. I'm on thin ice as it is," he sighed.

"I don't know about that," Ginny said, giggling. "I think you scared the living daylights out of him earlier."

"Yeah, well…" Harry said, ducking his head. "I did sort of let my temper get the best of me when he was talking about my mum and dad," he admitted ruefully. "Usually I just take it because I hear it so often that I rarely let it bother me anymore. But I've been under a bit of a strain lately and, well... you know how it is."

Ginny smiled warmly and put her hand on his arm. Making him look her straight in the eyes, she said, "Harry, you are the king of understatements. It's all right to admit that you miss him, you know."

Harry sprang away as if he had been burned by her touch. He wasn't exactly upset at what she had said. It was more the fact that she seemed to know what he was feeling, and that greatly unsettled him. Not looking at her, he finally chose to ignore the fact that she had even said anything.

Ginny seemed to accept this and he was grateful for her understanding on the matter. She did not press him further and tried to lighten the mood. "So, where's the most important room, then?" she asked, grinning.

Pulling himself out of his dark thoughts, he looked at her blankly. "What?"

"I asked," she said, "where the most important room was…" She laughed at what must have been his increasingly confused expression. "You know… the bathroom?"

"Oh, yeah… right," he said, feeling stupid. Despite the tightness in his chest, he felt his mood lighten aain. "It's over there on the right," he told her, smiling weakly as he said it. He pointed to another closed door.

"And your bedroom? Where is that?" she asked, seeming half embarrassed and half curious. "You don't still stay in the cupboard do you?"

Harry laughed. "No, but believe it or not, sometimes I wish I did."

Before she could ask what he meant by that, he pulled her through the doorway closest to them. He couldn't help noticing how she paused and stared at the many locks and bolts outside of the door.

Flipping on the light and shutting the door behind them, Harry busily began straightening the room by kicking piles of clothes under the bed and throwing others in the wardrobe. "Sorry about the mess," he apologised, his face heating slightly. He silently cursed himself for not straightening up earlier after he had taken his shower. Of course, he had not exactly been expecting company then.

"That's all right, Harry," she assured him. "Don't forget, I've lived with six brothers so there's not much I haven't seen."

As he tidied up, Ginny looked around at the sparsely decorated room. The largest and most prominent thing in the room was Hedwig's cage. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Ginny walked over and was greeted by a friendly hoot from the regal owl.

"Hello, Hedwig," she said softly as she reached in to stroke the owl's snowy white feathers. "Are you taking good care of Harry?"

Hedwig hooted a yes.

Harry blinked in surprise. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she just answered you."

At that, Hedwig gave him a reproachful look and ruffled her feathers in indignation.

"Sorry, girl," Harry apologised. "Not doing very well with the ladies tonight, am I?" Harry chuckled, raising an eyebrow at Ginny.

"You're just being you," Ginny said sounding affectionate. This time, Harry definitely noticed her colour slightly. He thought it was cute how she did that.

"I meant to say that it's all right. I don't think it bothers Claire much," she said, her voice trailing off and laced with venom.

"Claire!" Harry scoffed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he sighed, "She's a piece of work isn't she? Hasn't changed a bit, that one."

Ginny looked at him quizzically as she joined him on the bed, one knee propped up so that she was facing him. "What do you mean?"

"Claire was always one of the first in school to pick on me - next to Dudley and his friends, that is," he explained. He hated to think about the past and how miserable he had been before he went to Hogwarts, but for some reason felt the need to tell her.

"All the other kids were afraid to cross Dudley, so I never had any friends growing up. Every time anyone would be nice to me they immediately paid the consequences with Dudley's fist or some other kind of payback. Andrea and Audra were always nice though…" he mused, caught up in his memories. "I remember them giving me sympathetic glances in the hallways or in class when I was being picked on. They were too afraid of Dudley to say anything though.

"But Claire…" He paused, frowning. "She always seemed to really enjoy making fun of me - teasing me about being an orphan, calling me names like 'freak' and 'four-eyes,' that kind of thing."

"That must have been awful," Ginny said sympathetically. "Sounds a bit like Malfoy to me."

"Yeah, it was," Harry agreed. Grinning suddenly, he said, "'Course it came in handy later because, being used to name-calling and all, I never let slimy gits like Malfoy ruin my Quidditch game!"

"Leave it to boys to equate everything to Quidditch!" she laughed.

"I can't help it…. It's one of the things I miss most about the Wizarding world when I'm here," he told her with a grimace.

"I haven't been able to play much since the season ended, either," she said. "Ron and I kicked around an old Quaffle once or twice this summer, but Mum and Dad mostly think it's too dangerous to be outside much because - well, you know… Voldemort, and everything."

He felt a shiver at the name. He wasn't used to hearing other people say it, except for Dumbledore and occasionally Hermione. "Ginny…" he said, hesitantly. "I've been meaning to say something. That's the second time today I've heard you say his name." He found himself struggling for the right words.

"So?" she asked, matter-of-factly. "You say it."

"But, most people can't. Hermione only just recently started saying his name, and even then she stutters. Ron has never said it even once, and I've never noticed anyone else in your family say it either. But you say it like it's nothing," he told her, his expression full of respect. "I'm just surprised, is all…"

"It's not nothing, Harry," she said quietly. "But you have to remember, I lived with him in my head for almost a whole year. To me, he's a real person named Tom Riddle who was evil even at the age of 16. He's not just a name. I never used to say his name before the diary, and he still hurt me." She shrugged, "Besides, Dumbledore thinks that it helps conquer the thing you fear if you face it head on, and that's what I chose to do."

"Do you think about him often?" he asked. "About... what happened?" Harry was having an internal debate with himself. He didn't know whether he wanted to talk about this at all, but something was making him press onwards.

Should he tell her what had happened at the Department of Mysteries? If he thought hard about it, he could still feel the cold serpent twisted around his very soul, as much a part of him as his arm or leg….

His scar twinged slightly. Voldemort had entered his body and used him. It was a violation beyond description, and yet she had suffered with it for the better part of a year. Harry gained a new respect for Ginny Weasley at that moment. But, would she want to talk about it? Did he?

"I try not to," she said softly, looking down. "But sometimes I can't help myself… it just kind of sneaks up on me, and I'm lost…."

"Yeah," he said roughly because a lump had begun to form in his throat. "I know that feeling."

"Flying helps me," she said brightly.

"Huh?"

"Oh, I know I don't have a fancy broomstick like your Firebolt… and I can't go really fast - not like I want to, but sometimes I sneak out, whether I'm home at the Burrow or at Hogwarts, and just go flying," she said. "When I'm high up in the air and I feel the rush of wind in my hair and on my face, I just feel free. You, know… carefree, like the—"

"…like the only things that matter are how fast you can go, how high you can get… just letting the wind wash everything else away. All the bad memories - they just disappear and the only thing left is you and your broom," he finished for her.

"Yeah," Ginny whispered hoarsely.

"What about Quidditch, Ginny?" he asked, changing the subject. He really didn't want to talk about Voldemort anymore right now. "Are you going to try out for the Chaser position on the house team this year?" he asked. "That is, assuming my lifetime ban is revoked and I get back on the team."

"It will be," Ginny assured him, placing her hand on his arm.

Harry startled at her gentle touch. He wasn't used to being touched in that way.

She smiled. "McGonagall probably made it her first order of business once that cow, Umbridge, was chucked out. You know how competitive she is. Besides, as much as I liked being on the team, it just didn't feel right taking your spot. You're a hard act to follow, Harry Potter!" Ginny teased.

"Nah, I'm not…" he said modestly, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting.

Ginny 'tsked' in amusement. "'Youngest Seeker in a century' ring any bells?" she asked, her brown eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, but you were really good, too," he told her with conviction. "The way you caught that snitch out from under Summerby's nose in your first match! And, even though I didn't actually get to see it, I heard that Cho wasn't too happy when you did the same thing to her and won us the House Cup!"

Truthfully, it had been painful to watch Ginny in his position, but his jealousy did not extend to ill feelings towards her success. If it couldn't be him out there on the pitch, he was glad that Gryffindor had found someone as talented as Ginny.

"That was nothing," she blushed. "Anyone could have made those catches."

"Not just anyone," he said adamantly. "You don't see Ravenclaw with the Cup do you?"

"No, I guess not. Of course, Ron's goal-keeping had as much to do with that win as me catching the snitch."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't caught it, Gryffindor may have lost anyway. Even Fred and George had nothing but praise for you last year."

"Those two!" she said affectionately. "They're easy to impress!"

"Actually, no they're not," Harry said seriously. "Remember that night you and Ron came back all muddy from one of your first Quidditch practices?"

She looked puzzled but nodded thoughtfully. "I think so," she said hesitantly. "I remember wondering if I had made a mistake. I love Quidditch, but I hate playing in foul weather."

"Well, while you and Ron were off taking your baths, Fred and George turned up. They had been watching practice and, although they agreed that the team was awful, they had nothing but praise for you. They said they didn't know how you got so good, seeing as they never let you play with them."

"They said that?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Harry assured her. "Hermione told us then that you'd been breaking into the broom shed for years, and taking their brooms out in turn when no one was looking," he grinned, looking her straight in the eyes. Immediately, Harry wished he had not done that because he was finding it difficult to pull his eyes away.

"Hermione needs to learn to keep a secret," she said ruefully, looking away. "Besides, I'd been watching you for going on four years. I suppose I picked up a few things."

They made eye contact again and he froze, mesmerized.

"You've been watching me?" he said softly. His eyelids felt very heavy and his breathing quickened. He felt something that very much resembled an invisible magnet pulling him towards her.

Slowly, her eyes widened and he knew without a doubt she felt it too. It spurred him on. He leaned in slightly, cautiously, and she did not back away. Nervously, he watched her wet her lips and, in some part of his rational brain, he knew that act only enticed him more.

"Everyone watches you," she said, sounding very far away.

He was torn between staring at her lips and eyes. The murky brown pools reflected a want that he realised was mirroring his own desire. He felt as if he could drown in those eyes and be perfectly content.

"I don't care about everyone…"

He leaned closer and she still did not move. She looked scared, surprised, and happy all at the same time. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

Harry didn't even realise he was holding his breath until Claire broke through the door, shattering the moment and causing the two teenagers to break apart quickly, a sense of uneasiness hanging in the air.

"There you are, Harry!" she exclaimed, a winning smile plastered on her pretty face.

"Yes," he said in irritation, frowning, "here I am."

"We've been looking for you," she said, narrowing her blue eyes. "The others have been wondering where you went."

"Well, you found us."

"Yes, I did," she said, sounding very strange.

Ginny broke the tension. She jumped up and breezed past Claire, turning to Harry just before she exited. "Thanks for the talk, Harry," she said, winking. "How about we finish this later?"

His mouth dropped open. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

Claire was giving them both cold looks, but he could care less. Ginny Weasley had, more or less, just admitted that she still liked him. This was turning out to be the best night of his life! Even Claire couldn't spoil it for him now.