YAY! I'm back again, SUCKERS. You get to hear more of my lamenting FLANGST, because I'm a FLANGST WHORE, like Meggie! 3

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HP owned by Rowling, blahblahblah…..POO.

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Chapter Two: On the Ground

Harry stood a long time at the lake with Ginny, absent-mindedly stroking her long fiery hair as she stood huddled beside him. He gazed out over the still lake and listened intently to the heavy silence that very rarely echoed over the forest.

Ginny glanced up at his face, which was uncharacteristically calm, and burrowed even farther in his chest. Inside, Harry was reeling. At the beginning of the year, he had bought Ginny a beautiful bracelet, from a very smug lady in Diagon Alley. It was a simple silver design, and Harry was very pleased with it. In truth, he hadn't thought about actually giving it to her all that much…and now that he had the perfect chance, he seemed to be frozen.

Ginny noticed his eyes glazing over. "What are you thinking?" she whispered. Harry seemed to wake slowly from a pleasant dream. He looked at her with blank eyes.

"Oh…nothing. Nothing." Cursing at himself, he stuffed his free hand in his pocket, grasping the bracelet firmly in his fist, and willed himself to take it out.

Nothing.

Ginny smiled sadly. "I know it's hard, I mean, Dumbledore was everything for all of us, especially you, I know…" she added matter-of-factly.

Harry let out his breath in a whoosh. "No, Ginny, see…" She frowned.

"Are you trying to get rid of me again? 'Cause you know I won't—oh!" Harry, having rolled his eyes for the fifth time in ten minutes, had suddenly leaned over and clamped his mouth on hers. She detached herself in about a minute, gasping for breath, and gasped again, but not for breath! In her hand was the gorgeous silver bracelet, and her eyes sparkled in delight as she gingerly slipped it on her wrist. Harry stayed long enough to see her reaction, and took off sprinting down the lawn, face burning like a stoplight.

Cornelius Fudge was livid.

As was Rufus Scrimgeour, but he wasn't showing it. The pair was engaged in a heated argument over what should happen over the next few days. Fudge was spitting with rage, and he appeared as if he had just run a marathon.

"Scrimgeour, you know we can't sit back and let You-Know-Who even further into our threshold! We need to take action, and let the public know—"

"Let the—what? Fudge, you idiot, do you have any idea what madness will break out if we do?" Rufus spluttered. Fudge swelled like a balloon.

"That's exactly what I did, and look where it got me!" he puttered, outraged. "Out of a job, and luck, as far as I'm concerned! Now You-Know-Who has a very strong hold on us, and it's all because of me!" he added mournfully.

"Well, that's very lamentable and all, but my dear Fudge, I'm prepared to think I'm much more adept at this job than you, shall we say, and since I am, I think I should be much more capable of protecting the public from any threat whatsoever." Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair, smugly placing his fingertips together, thoroughly irritating Fudge, who snorted loudly.

"Going to take him on yourself, are you? Good luck, you'll need it. Just notify me what type of coffin you'd like, and I'd be happy to oblige." With that, Fudge walked out, quite pleased with his dramatic and witty exit.

Harry skidded into the empty hallway that led up to Dum—what used to be Dumbledore's office. Harry would have to get that straight now. Standing outside, Harry smacked himself. He forgot about the password.

"Er…Acid Pops?" The gargoyle didn't budge. Harry rolled his eyes, remembering that that was a former password, so it obviously wouldn't be used again.

"Chocolate Frogs?" The stone statue remained immobile.

"Jelly Slugs?"

"Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans?"

"Sherbert Lemons?" Harry massaged his temples, frustrated.

"Jello?" he tried, laughing hollowly. His sarcastic laughter, however, was brutally cut short by the sound of granite scraping waxed marble. The gargoyle swung to the side, revealing the spiral staircase he knew so well. "O-oh, OK…" he stammered, flummoxed. Dumbledore really did have a passion for all things Muggle. Harry took the stairs two at a time until he reached the solid oak door. Harry opened the door a fraction and peered into the room. There he saw his former headmaster's portrait on the wall, next to Armando Dippet's gilded frame. Harry's heart plummeted as he saw Dumbledore's long and crooked nose buried in his chest as the ancient man snored quietly, deep in uninterrupted slumber. Harry bit his lip as he fought a new onslaught of tears. He had desperately hoped to talk to him…. Harry shut the door quietly and shuffled dejectedly down the stairs once more.

Back in the circular office, Albus Dumbledore stopped snoring and opened his eyes, inwardly cursing himself for being a rotten coward.

"'OI HERMIONE! HURRY THE HELL UP!" Ron hollered up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. He was standing impatiently on the landing which continued up to the dormitories on both sides. He was dressed in his best khakis and polo—losing the robes, for once. Despite his exterior charade of annoyance, he was actually quite nervous. He was on a date—or about to be, anyway. He had asked Hermione out that morning, and she had replied in her normal clipped manner inside the Great Hall, but outside had made up for it wholeheartedly. His lips were still stinging. Fourteen Butterbeers and three Chapstick tubes later, here he was, waiting anxiously for Hermione to appear out of the mysterious depths of the girls' dressing room. And suddenly—there she was! Like an omniescent (not a word. Omniscient?) angelic presence she floated down in her unique ethereal beauty and placed her arm in his. It took him a while to figure out what to do next. In the meantime, he just gaped.

"Duhhhhh….." he grinned stupidly. Hermione sniffed.

"Are we going to walk, or just stand here looking like utter fools and drooling at each other?" she asked impatiently.

"Oh…right…" said Ron. Walk, you idiot. Walk? DO IT! "WALK! RIGHTO!" he yelled, whisking a shrieking Hermione after him.

Deep underground the regular hustle and bustle of London rush hour, Rufus Scrimgeour sat in his office with five other men. Weasley, Noone, Stoker, Dippet and Bones. Five good, able men. Well…Weasley was a bit of an "if" factor, but being young, inexperienced, and in desperate need of a career thruster, Scrimgeour thought it charitable to give him a chance after the Crouch Catastrophe and Dumbledore Disaster, as he liked to call them. He was briefing them on their new assignments, all top-secret and highly dangerous. Well, except for Weasley's.

"Right, men. I've chosen you all for your exceptional loyalty, hard work, and cool heads." He paused, surveying their faces and amusedly noting their swelling heads. They looked like popinjays. "Now, here are your files, I want you to read them, memorise them, and destroy them. You leave tonight. That's all." The five officials nodded their way out of the room, and Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair, brimming with self-satisfaction. Everything was going according to plan…

Everything was not going according to plan.

Ron was at his wit's end. Hermione looked about to cry, and was actually starting to. They had done nothing in the past hour and a half but snog, argue, sulk, and snog some more. They were now in the sulking stage, and weren't enjoying it one bit. Ron had dragged a ferociously protesting Hermione to the lake, and there they had argued, sulked, and snogged, in that order. Ron had tried so hard to make Hermione's time worthwhile, but once again, his emotional range of a teaspoon still interfered. That one still stung. Now he was sitting on the soggy moss by the lake, soaking his bum and thoroughly dampening his temper. Hermione was squatting near him, fiddling with her bracelet. Of course, it was the bracelet Krum gave her. She was probably regretting ever leaving him. He opened his mouth to spew this new venom at her, then thought the better of it. He glanced quickly at her—she was staring so hard at the ground, it looked like she was trying to shoot lasers out of her eyes. He said this aloud, thinking it harmless, and she laughed hollowly.

"Do you even know what lasers are, Ronald?"

Ron curled his lip in anger. "Of course I do! Just because you're clever, beautiful and you know absolutely everything about everything, doesn't mean you can treat the rest of us like dirt!" As soon as he said it, he clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Hermione was standing, having leapt to her feet earlier, and quivering in suppressed anger. "I didn't mean it…really…" But Hermione was already running. "NO! HERMIONE! WAIT!" Ron bellowed after her as she sprinted inside. "SHIT!" he roared, pounding his fist on his knee. He knew he couldn't go after her, so he got up and angrily stalked off to the Forest.

Inside, as Harry spied Ron taking to the Forest, he sighed quietly and went down to intercept Hermione as she came in. He waited for almost forty minutes in the almost deserted Common Room, but she never came.

Hope you liked.

Les Scribbles: Thankee dearly, dahhling! And I did so, is it any saavy-er?

Dami: Here you go! XD

Alexandra: Thank you VEWWWY much for your oh-so-kind review! I like compliments, as it swells my head so I can fit into my dad's hats. MUAHAHAHA I BEAT YOU! (Just kidding! Mebbe we can collaborate!)

Dumbledoreschild: Nice username, by the by. I want him to be my daddy too:D Thanks though!