Harry had to admit one thing: Charity Broadbent was pretty darn cute. For a Slytherin. And a girl three years his junior; he had always felt awkward with an age gap of over a year. Not that he had much experience on the relationship scene as it was. Well, apparently Charity was no pro herself; a blessing in disguise for at least she wouldn't expect anything.

Of course they had approximately been in Madame Rosmerta's tavern ten minutes.

Charity cleared her throat for the hundredth time and nervously slid a red strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm really flattered you asked me here, Harry."

He thought she sounded sincere. Hah. And Hermione said Charity had come only out of pity. But he couldn't sit there smugly, could he? "Well, I've been thinking about you for a while now..."

She gave a little squeak, nearly tumbling to the floor. The most she did was upset her butterbeer a little. "You have? Really? Oh, Harry, I don't know what to say!" She blushed, the red only increasing the brightness of her eyes.

She was quite pretty. Harry found himself smiling, deciding it was best he hadn't told the whole truth, that until a little over a week ago he had no idea who she was. But he had been thinking about her nonetheless, and so far it hadn't been a bad thing. Here he was, enjoying a tall glass of butterbeer on a warm autumn day with a cute Slytherin fifth year that actually liked him. Despite the fact they had never really talked. But you had to meet people somehow. And she was quite pretty. And she wasn't dating him because she felt sorry for him. Just because her name happened to be Charity. . . he made a mental note to tell Hermione how wrong she was later. She'd be furious. While Ron, on the other hand. . . .

He felt the now-familiar twinge of pain scrape through him, and the glass handle of the mug pressed hard against his skin. Ron, on the other hand, would never know. When would he stop assuming that Ron was still around? It had been almost a month. . . how long was he supposed to wait? But it all still felt so real.

"Harry?" Charity's voice sounded far away. "Harry, are you all right?"

He shook his head, jerking himself back to the land of the living and Charity's pretty face gazing worriedly at him. She reminded him of someone else. "Huh? Oh, sorry."

She nodded, a soft smile spilling out. "Don't apologize, Harry. You've been through a lot lately. I mean, you killed He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named!"

He blinked, cringing inwardly. Lord Voldemort had been dead for nearly a month now and people still refused to call him by his proper name. It was pathetic. And yet he really couldn't blame anyone for doing such a thing. Not after everything that Voldemort had done. Not after what he had done to Ron.

"You just need to move on and to relax," Charity continued. "Though after everything you'll have to forgive me for saying that I have no clue how you are going to manage that."

Relax, yeah. That's what far too many people had been telling him, himself included. And yet after spending so many years dealing with Voldemort, it was scary to find nothing else before him. But that's where the relaxing part came in. He was doing that now, wasn't he? Heck, he was dating!

He gave another smile, one he didn't even have to force. He had to admit he was having fun already in their ten minutes of a date, not including the walk to Hogsmeade. Charity was surprisingly nice, even for a Slytherin. What low had he come to in taking out a Slytherin? "Thanks, Charity. I guess I need little reminders every now and then." Small talk, small talk. How did he do that? "So. . . you're thinking of trying out for Quidditch next year?"

"Quidditch!" She feigned a breathless swoon, and Harry had to laugh. "I can hardly wait for Quidditch next year. Draco Malfoy has that stupid policy against girls on the team, but he'll graduate at the end of the year and then the entire posse of us can take that team away from him." She giggled. "Did you know that he still sleeps with a teddy bear?"

"Teddy bear?" Harry laughed again. Amazingly how easily he could imagine Draco curled up in some dark, shadowed bed with a baby blue teddy bear snuggled under his chin. . . . No, it was mean to think such thoughts, considering Draco wasn't that bad.

"Oh, yes. Some really brave third year girls practically jumped Draco's friends Crabbe and Goyle and made them tell us all sorts of secrets about the secret lives of the seventh year boys. I swear, what this school is coming to . . . not to say that I don't appreciate the information."

"Now that's the kind of Slytherin action I like."

She flipped her hair back again, this time not quite as nervously. "Why, thank-you."

She was fun. If only he could figure out who she reminded him of. Was it wrong to be thinking that way on a date?

She picked up her mug, taking a long swig as if the entire school were present to watch her pretend to get drunk. Then her eyes widened, spreading out to deep bright circles of panic. In an instant the mug was back on the table, butterbeer sloshing everywhere and all that had been in her mouth shooting like a deranged fountain across the table.

"A bug!" Charity screeched, her voice an embarrassingly sharp knife against the usual din of the tavern. "There was a bug in my glass!"

A fat purple beetle was indeed swimming hurridly through the butterbeer, his tiny lets trying desperately to cling to the slippery glass.

"Maybe there was another one!" Her eyes were beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I already swallowed it."

Harry had his own wave of panic. She wasn't going to start crying, was she?

"I think I'm going to be sick." Her face had gone pale. Maybe she really would faint this time.

Harry slid from his stool and ran to her side of the table. "Charity, are you all right? Don't be scared, it's just a bug."

She clutched his sleeve, nodding feverishly. "I know, I know. I'm so sorry, that was really embarrassing. It's just that I really, really hate bugs." Her eyes slid past him to her mug, and she again screamed. "Now there are three!"

And there were. Two more purple beetles had joined their friend for a swim. People nearby were checking their own glasses. One bug managed to climb to the rim.

Charity screamed a third time. Her nails dug painfully into Harry's skin. "What in the name of Salazar is going on?"

"Charity, please." They had become the main show of the tavern. It was really quite embarrassing. And the beetles, they had to be a charm, some little transportation spell or maybe even transfiguration of the butterbeer. "Just calm down and we'll go somewhere else."

Her eyes whipped on him with surprising harshness. "Is this you? Is this some sort of sick joke? Well, if you think it's going to impress me when I am terrified of bugs, then you are sadly mistaken." She jerked her arm away with an actual hiss—and slammed into the table hard enough to knock over her beetle-filled glass. The occupants promptly crawled toward her.

Harry's mind whirled. He had to do something. He had to. He just couldn't leave Charity there screaming while charmed beetles attacked her. "Charity, this isn't me."

She was too hysterical to hear. With one last shriek and a glare at him she raced, highly noticed, from the tavern.

For several too-long moments the room was silent.

Hermione would never let him hear the end of this. Some dream girl she turned out to be. He scooped some coins from his robe and dropped them on the table next to the beetles. Was anything going to go right in his life?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flash of long red hair leaving through the door. Charity? No, she was probably back to Hogwarts already. It couldn't be Ginny Weasley, could it?

Well, whoever it was, she had been laughing.

"I can't believe she did that." Somewhere amid all the stern disproval of Percy's voice was a thread of impressed reverence that Ron barely understood. "I can't believe she did something so. . . juvenile."

Ron slid his hand through the sharp shingling of the tavern roof, imagining that his now-faded hand had been severed in a freak accident he could probably blame Madame Rosmerta for. If that wouldn't be too mean. "Juvenile? Percy, Ginny is sixteen."

"Exactly." Percy looked down the road where their little sister was all but skipping along. "She is sixteen years old. She should know better than to. . ." He shook his head in absolute disgust. "Than to stick that insect hex in some girl's drink."

Ron pulled his hand away from the roof and laughed. It almost hurt how much he just wanted to chase after Ginny and compliment her on her brilliance. If that would do any good. "Hey, it was funny. Just because Fred and George did it to you twelve times—"

"It was not twelve times. It was not that many."

"Twelve times," he continued. "Doesn't mean that it is an evil prank. That Charity girl will get over it eventually."

Percy gave a dry smirk, eyes still on Ginny. "People wind up in St. Mungo's for things like that."

"I think she'll get over the bugs." Ron could still see them in his mind, purple and bulging and ready to storm poor Charity while Harry just stood there. Had Harry found it funny? He needed something to laugh at. The way people could be, moping around for a month. Ron hated it. What was the point of dying if people were going to act that way? "Besides, I think you thought it was funny."

"No, I did not find that at all funny."

But Ron had heard a distinctive laugh from his brother during the event. "At least it saves us from doing anything drastic."

Ginny was no longer visible, so Percy sighed and turned to Ron. "Drastic? Don't they still want you to work Ginny or something like that?"

"Me? I think they're plotting that we both do it." The week since the girls' decision had entered in disaster for every time they ran into Cornelia or Jillie or Dream, until Ron scarcely dared do anything but hide in a corner and hope they wouldn't come looking for him. Except Percy had other plans that did not include hiding in a corner.

"What about the Bloody Baron?" Percy asked, hovering down next to Ron. "What do you want to do about that?"

The Bloody Baron. Ron groaned. He had all but given himself up to the terrible fact that he would be tied to Percy for the next century. The Bloody Baron was a Slytherin, and if he wasn't even going to try and contact them in a week then he probably wasn't going to at all. The Baron was just playing a sick game. Or continuing the one he had begun the moment that airhead of a Ravenclaw ghost had played her own little trick. Somehow he wished he could have just stayed in the spirit world, even if it did mean that Percy was still always within fifty feet. "Do about what? He has nothing for us to do; he just said that to make us leave him alone."

"Hmm." Percy stroked the edge of his glasses. "I'm sure he has something. He couldn't have become so powerful in. . . ghost circles or whatever you want to call him if he were a liar."

"Percy, he's a bloody Slytherin."

"And they aren't all bad. Come on, be fair."

Ron rolled his eyes. He knew Percy was right.

"I have a theory," he continued, pretending not to notice. He was always good at pretending; the real pleasure came from the fact he was just bottling up inside. Fred and George had discovered that years ago and were eager to share it with Ron and Ginny. "The Baron just might have some unfinished business. I mean, look at him. No one even knows how he died, and yet he's just swimming in blood."

Another perfect eye-rolling moment. "You think he wants us to give him a bath?"

"I'm just thinking that we should trust him. We have no reason to."

Since when was Percy being the hopeful one? "You know, maybe we shouldn't even bother. It would only be a hundred years, and maybe that just. . . flies by when you are a ghost or whatever." He couldn't believe he was saying that. "And there's always the spirit world. We weren't there very long, but it was two weeks out here. Maybe if. . ."

"The way everyone has been talking, I don't think we'd be allowed to stay in the spirit world very long at all." Percy instinctively ducked a bird flying past. "Yet."

"Yet?" Ron stared at him. "What do you mean by—"

Just then Harry left the tavern, bewilderment crawling over his face.

"Harry," Ron whispered. His concentration on hovering just at the roof's surface slipped. The sharp-looking shingles rushed at his eyes as he plummeted through the roof.

"Ron?" Percy called curiously from somewhere above.

He caught himself just before he dropped through some old man's head. The air braked around him, jerking him to a stop. Rather uncomfortable, when he considered the air shouldn't have any affect on him whatsoever. He had just been so happy to see Harry. . .despite the fact that he had seen him just minutes earlier. But then he had been with . . . girls. Now he was alone. So often it was difficult to find Harry alone, and then it was almost too much of a temptation for Ron. Would it really make Harry feel better if he just. . . appeared? Went visible for even just a few seconds, like he had done before Hermione? Which had been a little more than an awkward experience. But still the temptation was there, like it was with everyone. If he just dared talk to them, like Ginny or Harry or anyone.

On the other hand—the idea horrified Ron even as he thought it—on the other hand, it just might be really hilarious to scare Harry like that. And extremely cruel.

Well, it was a stupid thought anyway. He would just have to accept the fact that he was dead. He shot back up through the ceiling where Percy was still watching him with limited curious.

"You're still not thinking of talking to him, are you?" Percy asked.

Percy was too good at reading minds, but Ron clenched his teeth against any tempting reply.

Percy's eyes lingered on him a few more moments before he shrugged and stared up at the distant school. "I still can't believe Ginny would do something like that."

Ron scanned the area for Harry, but apparently he had disappeared into another shop, or something. "Yes, well, the best part is that no one even put her up to it." Whatever ghostly version he had of a heart twisted unexpectedly inside of him. "She really wanted to sabotage the date."

Now it was Percy's turn to nearly fall through the tavern roof. "Sabotage? What do you mean, she wanted to sabotage it?"

Ron suddenly realized that he had never really much thought of Ginny's motives himself. "I don't know. . . I guess she still does like Harry." He had certainly considered that before, but even when he had been alive and even encouraging them a few years ago, Ginny had never done anything more drastic than that cheesy card third year. And now she was putting bugs in girls' drinks? She was either still chasing after Harry or executing some twisted revenge.

Percy groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" A familiar face framed by a fountain of long, silvery hair popped into view. "I'm so proud! You two are actually out here on your own accord. . . I just saw Ginny Weasley looking very pleased with herself. But I'm sure you, Ron, did most of the work."

Percy groaned again.

"I'm not pleased to see you, either," sniffed Dream. She spun closer to Ron, hair trailing around her like water.

"I thought they wouldn't find us out here," Ron whispered to Percy.

"I heard that," she sang. "Well, you weren't anywhere at the school, and Jillie and Cornelia had no idea where you were—much to Cornelia's insane disappointment, Percy—and then I heard that your friend Harry Potter had a date. . . well, I'm not stupid, you know."

"I beg to differ," Percy murmured.

Dream didn't even flinch. "You really are a jerk. But I'm not here to see you. I'm here to see Ron." Her face lit into a smile.

But what I meant is that crush she has on you. Ron suddenly heard Percy's taunt running through his head. Bloody hell, he had been serious. Ron watched in horror as Dream came closer to him, all smiling and hair and. . . he was going to faint, if ghosts could do that.

"Dream," he heard himself stammer. "What do you mean you're here to see me?" It couldn't be real; she was a ghost! And so was he. And Hermione was still alive. And. . . oh, no. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his brother fighting a laugh. No, he was even fighting it.

"I came to see you," Dream said brightly. "Because I think you are cute."

Well, that was a compliment, but. . . Ron edged backwards. "I'm not cute!" Did he just admit that?

"Sure you are. In fact, you are probably the cutest ghost at Hogwarts, since Cedric Diggory apparently went to the spirit world."

So now he was being compared with Cedric Diggory?

Percy cleared his throat. "You know, Dream, as far as I know, Ron has never kissed a girl."

Dream giggled, actually smiling back. "Really?" She returned her attention to Ron.

He could leave, he realized. He was actually getting quite good at Vaporating. He could just disappear and hope that Dream wouldn't find him for some time. Except. . . he glanced at Percy, who again was reading minds, for he held up his right wrist. The message was clear: Percy planned to fight any attempt for Ron to leave. Did he have such a desire to torture others?

Dream was moving in even closer.

And all Ron could see was Hermione.

Taking an instinctive and unnecessary breath, he whirled away just as Dream dove in.

With a shriek she tumbled down, catching herself just before the shingles. "Ron!"

Ron moved even farther away. Who knew if she might try again? "Percy, I want to leave."

There was no reply. Percy was laughing harder than Ron had ever seen him. It was almost scary and completely unnatural.

For a moment all Ron could do was stare. "Percy?"

Percy nodded, fighting to control himself. "I'm sorry," he managed. "Dream, I'm really sorry."

Dream was back in balance, considerably flustered. "Are you laughing at me? Well, I'll be telling Cornelia all about this! Oh, and Ron?"

Ron felt the faintness take hold of him again.

"This doesn't change anything, so don't worry." Then she was gone.

"Ron," Percy said between a few final laughs. "That has to be one of the best things you have done."

It would be far too easy and far too cruel to ask Harry how the date with Charity Broadbent had gone, but it was the only thing Hermione could think of as she watched him climb through the portrait hole, his face the utter visage of confusion. Somehow she managed to resist. After all, every single Gryffindor knew the story. Ginny could be quite good at that kind of thing.

But Harry seemed prepared anyway. "Don't ask," was his first remark. "Don't ask."

Hermione smiled behind her textbook. "I wasn't going to."

"I think she permanently hates me now." Harry slumped down on the couch next to hers. "Charity does."

Well. . . perhaps all of the premonitions had been wrong. Hermione's smile faltered. Ron would have loved to hear about this sort of thing. "I wouldn't worry about Charity too much." That news was recent, anyway. "Apparently her pillows in her dorm attacked her. Some mischievous charm, or something."

He grumbled a reply, a tiny smile appearing. "Really? So who dared approach the Slytherin area?"

Hermione had promised Ginny she wouldn't say.

SHOUT OUTS!!!

XXNaziHaloXx: As always, thanks so much! Eh... I actually have spare time between studies and I'm still not writing. I'm just bad.

v-babe24: Evvvil computer!

Tru Lys: You've already met the representative. )

The House of Concentus: Hey, I love Old English. Thanks so much for your review! It really made my day!

Tabitha78: I have a little theory about the Baron, so I had to drag in his intrigue.

starsmiles: Technically, the decapitated wizard was a statue, but it is a slight reference to Nick. What's in the envelope: it's not terribly important, but you will find out and it is at least somewhat meaningful to the story.

SirIsaac: Thank-you so much! That means a lot to me.

rosepetal13: It's not terribly important, what's in the envelope, but you will find out! It's going to be one of those theme things....

Poemzie: Well, I'm glad you don't find it utterly depressing! What a compliment! I really like what you said about Ron and Percy. And yes, they will talk things out. Eventually. I have to have all sorts of bonding. And yes, the Bloody Baron will dish out an assignment soon. Thanks so much for your comments!

Neoma: You shall find more about both the histories of the Baron and the Grey Lady later on. It's so sweet of you to feel bad for Ron. By the way, you are so one of my new favorite writers!

Midnight Dove: Yeah, well, school sucks. You know, I actually became a Grey Lady fan by writing her in.

meenyrocks: Thanks! I never really thought of the Grey Lady's invovlment as clever, just as a plot device, so I really appreciate that.

liseli: I haven't explained this in full yet, but the Grey Lady is a school ghost and has too many connections to this world. Plus she hasn't been back to the spirit world in so long, and that makes it even more difficult. Great question.

Lahar: You reviewed every single chapter! Wow! Thanks so much! And thanks also for your critiques; I really appreciate them.

Lady Meriadoc: Yes, evil Barons rock!

hydraspit: I'm all about character stuff as well. Great fun bonding stuff.

Hydrangea777: Thanks! Cliffies are too much fun.

HotDog-Jo: Thanks! When are you updating?

Hiddenflame42: The Baron has something different in mind than what the Grey Lady wanted... Percy actually hits pretty close to it in this chapter.

Eohthen lord of Rohan: Actually no, I don't think a century is too harsh, considering it is the Bloody Baron.

Duj: Is the surprising a good thing?

Dr. Huff-Puff: Actually, the Baron is going to be more creative and cruel than sending them back to the spirit world.

Crystal Lightning: I'm glad you can appreciate twists. So... when are you updating?

ArcherofDarkness: Ravenclaws have always struck me as manipulative. )