A/N: YES! I finished! In order to get it all posted though, this will be the last author's note I will write until the endof final chapter. Drat!I can't go to the midnight thing! Oh well . . . THE MORNING WILL COME! . . . eventually. Please R&R.

18

Events Such as Spilling and Attack

Harry and Ron finished a few games of wizard chess before they became bored and wandered over to the fire.

"So," Ron began casually, propping his feet up on the coffee table, "did you ask Luna?"

Harry nodded. "She said, 'Yes.'. She said she didn't want to dance though, but we already knew she didn't like dancing."

Ron nodded, recalling the day he had first met Luna, and she had brought up how he had gone to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil.

There was a moment of silence, only broken by the squeaking of stairs as Ginny came down from the girls' dormitories. "Ron, Harry," she greeted them, yawning slightly. She walked over to the boys and sat down in the chair across from Ron.

"Anyone invite you to the Graduation Ball?" Ron asked her.

"Yes . . . but I'm rather disappointed, you know. I had thought that more than one seventh year boy would have invited me to go with them, but only one did," Ginny replied, looking a bit downtrodden.

Ron looked at her critically. "Who asked you?"

Ginny blushed. "Neville did . . . before the end of the term."

Ron burst out in laughter, causing Ginny to glare at him. "I bet you haven't even got a date," she snapped.

Ron's laughter died down, and the smile fell from his face. "You lose that bet then. I do have a date, even ask Harry."

Harry nodded on cue, and Ginny eyed Ron suspiciously. "Who then?"

"Cho."

"Cho Chang? You have got to be kidding me! She's not stupid enough to go to the ball with you!" Ginny said, giggling at her own joke.

"Well, she said she would, and I would not consider that being stupid."

Ginny snorted, and Harry couldn't help but grin.

Ron smiled too, though he couldn't get his current issue out of his mind.

There was a tap at the portrait hole, and Harry sprung up from the sofa he had been sitting in. Ron regarded him with raised eyebrows.

"I'm expecting someone," Harry explained simply as he walked to the portrait.

The portrait swung back to reveal Luna, who was grinning broadly. To Ron, it seemed that her eyes had gotten even larger than they had been the last time he had seen her. He glanced at Ginny as her smile vanished. She waved curtly to her friend, forcing the smile to reappear.

"Bye," Harry said and closed the door behind him as he left.

Ginny put her head in her hands. Ron ogled at her. "Spill," he said.

Ginny looked up. "Why couldn't Harry have asked me to go to the ball with him? I've been trying to get him to notice me as more than his best friend's sister for the longest time, but he doesn't take any of the hints! He hardly even talks to me," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

Ron stared at his sister. He was a bit shocked that she fancied his best friend, though he didn't mind all that much, but more so, he felt sorry for her. "Gin," he began, knowing exactly how his little sister felt and wishing he could make her pain go away, "don't let it get to you. You'll find somebody else. I mean, Neville's a great guy," he said, trying to be a bit humorous with his last statement. It didn't work.

"How do you know I'll find someone else? Have you found someone else?"

Ron gaped at Ginny. "Wha-"

"Oh, don't tell me you didn't know that I knew," Ginny said, "Actually, it was an accident," she admitted, turning red, "I was using some of Fred and George's extendable ear things, and I overheard you yelling at Harry."

Ron was shocked and appalled, but somehow, he couldn't be angry with his sister, though he did have one question for her. "What were you trying to listen to?" he asked.

"Well, you know how I said Harry never talks to me," Ginny said, blushing even more, "I was just trying to listen to his voice."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Gin, that's a bit scary . . . I can't believe you heard. Did you hear all of it?" Ginny nodded. "So you know everything?"

Ginny nodded again. "I can't believe Hermione would go out with that prat," she said, "He's totally not good enough for her."

"I know," Ron said, "and I can't believe Harry would go out with Luna. She's obviously too freaky for him."

"The sad thing is," Ginny said, "I used to consider her my friend . . . I guess I still do."

"The sad thing about Draco is, I always hated him."

Ginny chuckled wanly. "We're sad people, Ron," she said.

"Well, at least we have each other."

"Great," Ginny said mock-sarcastically, "I should be going to the library," she announced, "I'll see you later."

Ron nodded, and Ginny went back up to the girls' dormitories to get her book bag. She came back down and left.

Ron sat in silence, thinking about how unfair it was that he and Ginny had to go through this type of torture. He was sure that they deserved better. Heck, anyone deserved better things than Malfoy.

Ron slammed his fist on the arm of his chair angrily. "I never did anything wrong! I DON'T DESERVE THIS!" he yelled, standing up. He began judging the windows again, contemplating death. He looked away, shaking his head. "She's driving me mad," he said to himself, laughing feebly, "What have I gotten myself into?"

Crookshanks entered the room suddenly, prancing out of the girls' dormitories. He observed Ron with a critical eye as if to say, "What is your problem, boy? You need to get a grip."

Ron glared at the cat. "WHAT?"

Crookshanks seemed to smirk at him, taking on a look that reminded him too much of Malfoy. He took a few steps closer to Ron, still smirking.

Ron backed up, his legs hitting the table behind him. "Back off, cat," he growled.

Crookshanks took one leap and was up on the back of the chair that Ron had been sitting in before, his squashed face still contorted in a wicked grin.

"Cat," Ron said, backing up more, "I am warning you. Hermione might come back to find a dead cat in the common room if you keep this up."

The cat made himself comfortable on the back of the chair, stretching out in a way that said to Ron, "Why are you afraid of me? I am just a stupid cat, after all."

Ron shook his head and plopped down in the chair across from where he had been sitting. Crookshanks looked at him, and spontaneously made the bound and covered the distance in between them. He landed on Ron's chest, purring loudly.

Ron tried to push him off, but, much as he had done to Sirius in third year, Crookshanks had dug his claws into Ron's knit jumper. "Would you get off?" Ron asked, exasperated.

Crookshanks merely purred louder and began to knead Ron's stomach.

Ron could hardly breathe, seeing as Crookshanks was a rather massive cat, and the claws poking into his flesh were far from relaxing. "Crookshanks, you fat beast, get the bloody hell off me!" Ron exclaimed, with a last, weak push at the ginger-haired cat, who didn't budge. "Fine," Ron said, "I'll just wait until you leave." Crookshanks seemed more than satisfied with this conclusion as he began purring even louder.

It seemed like forever and longer before someone entered the common room. "Ron?" Hermione's voice called.

Ron heard her walk towards him and gasp. "Oh! Crookshanks, get off!" she cried, tugging at her huge pet, "Ron, don't be angry. He's just a cat. I-"

"Hermione, just get that beast off me," Ron said impatiently.

Hermione shut her mouth tightly and sat down on the arm of Ron's chair, working each of her cat's claws from Ron's clothing. Ron tried not to notice how close she was sitting to him or how her hand touched his chest when she worked at the claws or how she seemed genuinely worried that he would be mad at her for what had happened. The truth was, he was angry, but not really. He couldn't use anger to cover up his feelings at this point, but he could try.

Hermione got Crookshank's last claw undone and heaved him off Ron, staggering away from him. She took the cat up to the girls' dormitories.

Ron sat up, picking ginger hairs off his jumper. He pursed his lips, trying to be angry with Hermione. He listed the reasons in his head: 'She's a know it all; she loves that stupid cat; she loves Malfoy; and she doesn't let me copy her homework.'

"Ron, are you angry?" Hermione asked tepidly when she got back from taking her cat away.

Ron scowled. "I've told you countless times to get rid of that . . . thing, and you never listen. It's like you want me to be mad at you!" Ron exclaimed, glaring the hairs in his hands, "I'm bloody covered in that beast's hair," he grumbled, trying not to lose his angry tone.

Hermione crossed her arms. "You know I can't get rid of Crookshanks," she said, "How would you feel if I asked you to get rid of Pigwidgeon?"

Ron looked up at Hermione skeptically. "That owl drives me nuts. I would be fine, but Pig never does anything to other people except make them giggle insanely. I don't see why you would want me to get rid of him," he said coolly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant, Ronald."

Ron shrugged.

"What is your problem, Ron? You've been acting so different lately, I can barely tell it's you anymore! Is it because I'm going to the ball with Draco? I'm sorry if you don't like him, but it doesn't seem like you approve of anyone who likes me for who I am."

Ron sighed. "I can assure you that Malfoy doesn't like you for who you are. And, for your information, I'm not the only one that has changed lately. The Hermione I used to know wouldn't have been wandering about with a jerk like Malfoy over the holidays. She would have been studying for the exams that are months away. What happened to her?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Maybe we're all just drifting away from what we used to know," Ron continued, "I mean, Harry's hardly around either. It seems like I'm the only one that still does what I used to."

"You make it sound like we're abandoning you," Hermione said curtly.

Ron shrugged again. "Maybe you are. I wouldn't know. You're gone so much, I don't even recognize you." That was a bit of an exaggeration, especially since he couldn't forget Hermione's face if he wanted to.

Hermione glared at him. "It wouldn't be a surprise that we would be drifting away from you, if we were. You're such a prat sometimes, I can hardly stand it!" she exclaimed, and she turned and left the room, heading up to the girls' dormitories.

Ron sat in his chair, feeling duly scathed. "You deserved that, you git," he said to himself.