A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to be uploaded. I have been basically eating, breathing, and sleeping musical for the past week, but, thank goodness, our final performance was last night! I also have had a major writer's block for the past two weeks, but finally some inspiration is hitting me and I can crank out the chapters. Updates will come a lot quicker, I promise, so please don't give up on this story! I apologize that this chapter is serious and a bit depressing at times, but, honestly, after what happened at the Department of Mysteries life isn't all fun and games. However, I will try to keep it light, which won't be too hard considering the characters I am working with!

"Bloody h, Hermione," Ron grunted as he lugged my school bag into the bedroom. "What do you have in here...bricks?"

"Six books!" I said airily. He shook his head.

"Mental, that one," he confided in an undertone to Percy (who wasn't due at the Ministry until later that afternoon), who was passing by the room on his sleepy trudge to the table.

"Ronald," he admonished with a superior air, "You ought to follow Hermione's example. She has high aspirations and an excellent work ethic- not to mention her priorities are properly sorted. She will succeed in life." A boy -er- man after my own heart. Besides that little escapade where he shunned his own family and ran away last year, I have always liked Percy, even with his stern, no-nonsense, (and no-fun) attitude, and obsession with perfection.

Smiling, I chirped, "Thanks Perce!" My smile only grew wider as I caught sight of the bleary-eyed Weasley sporting a small, genuine grin of his own. Winking, he continued on the long, dangerous trek to the kitchen; perilous because...

"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half breeds..." Mrs. Black's enraged screams reverberated throughout the old house. There was a loud crack as Fred and George suddenly materialized about a centimeter from Percy's sleepy blue eyes.

"Percy Ignatius Weasley, how corking to see you, old chap!" Fred clapped a hand hard on his shoulder.

"Amusing. Now if you'll excuse me boys, I have business to attend to in the kitchen..." Percy went on rather testily, attempting to edge his way past his scheming brothers, who wore identical wicked smiles.

"What a coincidence!" George feigned shock. "We're just about to head that way too. We'll escort you to breakfast!" They linked arms with the now disgruntled Percy and merrily skipped down the hall. "Mum!" I heard the twins cry. "Wonderful to see you, woman!"

"And you, boys," a pleased Mrs. Weasley said affectionately, as (by the sounds of disgust her dear sons were making) she kissed their cheeks.

"Gits." Ronald mumbled a bit resentfully. "They skip out of Hogwarts, breaking a thousand rules in the process and insulting a Ministry official (I immediately began seeing red at the mere mention of that you-know-whatProfessor Umbridge) and start a joke shop- and Mum doesn't even bat an eyelash! If I even put a toenail out of line..."

"Ron," I interrupted gently, "You know darn well that your Mum-and the rest of the Order-have much more serious things on their minds."

"You're right, Hermione- as usual," Ron sighed, shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"And that's why you like me so much." I playfully rumpled his fiery red hair.

"Yes...that's why I like you so much," he echoed dazedly, tentatively brushing a rebellious curl out of my eyes. A blush was rising on my face as he took a step closer. Then another. Only four inches now separated his toned body and my slender figure...


"Harry, oh Harry!" I cried as my other best mate wearily walked into the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, escorted by nearly half of the Order of the Phoenix. I threw myself into his arms and hugged him fiercely.

"Lo, Hermione," Harry acknowledged me, cracking a weak grin as he awkwardly patted me on the back and tried not to ingest any of my hair.

An impatient 'humph' came from my right side as I slowly released the Boy-Who-Lived. In two long strides, Ron was across the room and embracing Harry like a brother. "It's great to see you, mate," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

I studied Harry critically as Mrs. Weasley took her turn to squeeze the breathe out of the poor boy. He looked extremely handsome-as usual. His jet-black hair lay in that trademark unkempt way, giving him that adorable air. Years of heavy Quidditch training were obvious in his lean, muscular frame, although he had slightly gone to seed as a result of not playing the sport for nearly a year. Those piercing emerald eyes...truth be told, Harry James Potter was-there was no other word for it- SEXY. However, taking a closer glance, I realized those startlingly green eyes lacked the usual sparkle, the glimmer, the happiness. Instead, they were dull, lifeless sockets, brimming with guilt, anger, and enormous grief and unshed tears.

'Poor Harry,' I thought, literally sobbing inside when I was reminded of how much he'd been through in the past few years-especially in the past two months. He had to be the strongest, most courageous wizard to ever walk the planet. Watching Cedric die at the end of our fourth year, then the closest thing he had left to a father, Sirius, at the Department of Mysteries a few months ago...that was nothing, however, compared to what Harry had finally revealed to us the last day of our fifth year. About the prophecy. How the fate of the whole Wizarding World rested on a sixteen-year old's shoulders. How he would either have to be a murderer or be murdered himself. How it would come down to that final duel to decide whether the world of man would survive. How everything depended on him. How he was now, like the rest of us, forced to put up a brave façade to hide the terror swelling within him. How he had to pretend that nothing was wrong, that we were just three normal teenagers, experiencing the "best" years of our lives. How there was good chance that he wouldn't live to see his seventeenth birthday-and neither would we.

My depressing musings luckily were stopped as I watched Ginny tentatively wrap her arms around Harry. Blimey- was that a blush I spied on the raven-haired young man's face? I shared a secret look with Mrs. Weasley, who smiled sadly. Though Harry was her seventh son, having a blossoming relationship with her youngest daughter during this horrible war would only deepen the grief if the battle were to turn ill. Then again, who was to deny anyone happiness in this time of uncertainty a time when life itself became a game of survival?


"Evening, Potter, Weasley, Granger," Severus Snape said stiffly as he strode into headquarters four hours later, about fifteen minutes early for the top-secret Order meeting scheduled for that night.

"Hello, Professor Snape," I greeted my least favorite teacher dully while trying to edge my way away from him as quickly as possible without being rude.

"Come on, Ron!" I grabbed his hand and Harry's shirtsleeve and started pulling them out of the living room. "We have to finish that essay on antidotes!"

"It really was a pleasure speaking to you, Professor," Ron snickered as Snapes's black eyes flashed dangerously.

"Could you please repeat that remark, Mr. Weasley?" he asked silkily, now blocking the doorway and our intended escape route. My grip on Ron's large, warm hand tightened considerably as his face turned a delicate shade of red.

"I wasn't being sarcastic, sir!" Ron fumed, the infamous Weasley temper about to be unleashed. "I meant what I said- I rather enjoy speaking to gits such as yourself!"

Instantly, I knew Harry and I knew he had gone too far. However, secretly I was quite impressed that the object of my affections was finally standing up to the prat who found pleasure in making Harry's life a living hell! 'Score one for my sexy Ron!' I giggled.

Snape's pallid complexion turned purple with suppressed rage. "Although you may not be at Hogwarts, Weasley, I am still your Potions professor and deserve to be treated with respect," he growled, fingering his wand.

"He speaks the truth, sir," Harry now joined into the argument.

"And you Potter!" Snape whirled around, pointing a long finger about an inch away from Harry's face. "One more word from either of you and I will hex you into oblivion. I may not be able to delve out any nasty punishments now, but let me assure you, when we arrive back at Hogwarts you will both be spending much time in detention for your inappropriate comments and blatant disrespect of me."

"Funny, the way you've turned out, Potter," the spy for the Order continued. "Just like your father and Black...both felt they were superior to the rest of us mere mortals and could do what they pleased with no consequences whatsoever. Look where it got both of them!"

"SHUT UP!" Harry roared, face white with fury. "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF SIRIUS OR MY FATHER THAT WAY! IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, YOU'RE DESCRIBING YOUR OWN PITIFUL SELF! YOU'LL MEET THE SAME FATE AS THEM, ALL RIGHT, WHEN VOLDEMORT FINDS OUT THAT YOU'RE A TRAITOR!" Tears streaming down his face, Harry ran out of the room, colliding head on with a white-faced Remus. He simply pushed the last remaining person of his father's closest circle of friends away and stormed to his bedroom. I stood there, mouth wide open in shock...and awe.

"Severus, what happened here?" Remus questioned gruffly.

"Why don't you ask your precious Potter?" Snape snarled, tucking his wand back into his pocket. "Now if you'll excuse me, there are matters of great importance I must share at this meeting...unlike some people, I play a pivotal role in the Order. I would hate to be late and have my top-secret information not revealed..." And without a further glance, he stalked past Remus towards the basement kitchen.

"It would be best if you left Harry alone," Remus advised us gently, flashing a sympathetic grin as he too followed Snape to the gathering in the kitchen.

Hmm. That meant Ron and I would be alone for more than two hours! Whatever would we occupy ourselves with?

Over the years, I have learned that with the Weasley clan, that is a dangerous question to even think. Ginny, who had luckily missed the showdown between my two best mates and Snape due to the fact that she was in the loo doing God-knows-what entered and flopped down on the couch.

"Well," I began brightly, as if a cheerful tone of voice would completely erase the events of the past five minutes, "We have two hours before dinner...any ideas?" 'Besides snogging Ron senseless, which really wouldn't be a good idea with his sister also present in the room -she'd be scarred for life,' the annoying little voice in my head snickered.

Ginny suddenly got that really scary evil glint in her now dancing brown eyes. "We could play truth or dare," she suggested slyly.

I could smell a rat from a hundred miles away. "We could not play truth or dare," I said loudly. "It's no fun with only three people." (As if that was a legitimate excuse. I was just too scared that she would make Ron kiss me for a dare, and he would refuse because I am simply too repulsive. And, by the way, earlier in the day when we were only a mere few inches apart? George and Fred chose the perfect moment to practically Apparate on my chest, thus breaking any –er- romantic mood that had settled over us two hormone-crazed teenagers).

"Make that five," came the glum voice of Fred (or was that George?) as the twins sauntered in, for once choosing to walk the huge distance of about 1/100 of a mile instead of Apparating. "Mum suddenly refused to let us attend today's meeting even though we're officially members. And to think we let that senseless boy (the twin's best mate, Lee Jordan) run the shop today in our absence so we could be here tonight! Supposedly Snape's giving a super top-secret reportthat our ears are not special enough to hear."

"Anyways," George continued, rubbing his hands together, "we'll make the best of this evening. The night's still young...did I hear a mention of a game of truth or dare?"

"You certainly did not," I said hastily, knowing fully well that by adding Fred and George into the mix, things would only get worse for me.

Completely ignoring me, like they usually did, Fred punched Ginny on the arm and whispered dramatically, "Truth or dare, Gin?"

"Truth," his sister sighed, resigning herself to the fact that this was definitely going to be an embarrassing question of some sort.

"Do you like Harry?" the twins bluntly asked in perfect unison.

"Well, of course I do!" Ginny said quickly, blushing to the roots of her fiery red hair. "He's a good friend- and a great guy. He's the nice brother I never had!"

Pretending to be deeply offended, Fred clutched his chest. "That wounded me greatly, Gin. However, I believe you have not answered the question completely. Everyone sitting in this room likes Harry that way...I'm talking about in a non-platonic way...in a romantic way."

Pursing her lips, the young woman being questioned defiantly folded her arms across her slightly more ample chest than mine (I'd say a 36 B). "And what if I choose not to answer the question?"

"Then you are choosing the consequences...terrible consequences that Fred and I have yet to decide on," George said smugly.

Throwing her hands up in defeat, Ginny softly admitted, "Fine! My childhood crush on the Boy-Who-Lived has blossomed into a full-fledged love. Happy?"

"Not exactly," Fred said weakly, eyes trained on the door. Slowly turning around, Ginny found herself face to face with none other Harry Potter.

"You two are dead meat," I whispered, settling back against Ron's muscular legs and preparing myself for what I was sure would be a highly amusing situation.