This chapter is longer then the last, just to make up for uploading such a short passage before.

Note: Do not read this note if you do not wish to know about relationships in this story! Harry Lvr, the answer to your question is no, there won't actually be any romantic pairing within this story, I'm having enough fun with the friendship bits ;) However, if people want to see relationships in it (somehow) then they can go ahead and imagine all they want ;)

Chapter 5

"Are you going to tell them?" Hermione asked as they clumped together in Ron's tiny room. The bed had been too small for them to all sit on comfortably so he had pulled off the pillows and blankets, and piled them in the one empty corner of the room. The three of them then conjured up a rather impressive amount of blankets and pillows to add to the mess, which they had then burrowed into happily. It was quite cozy and Harry, who was propped right where the two walls met, couldn't help grinning.

Hermione had joined them that afternoon, apparating from her parent's house into Ron's backyard. She would be staying for the next week up in Ginny's room, but right now Ron's little sister had gone to town for a late night theatre production with the rest of his family. The three of them hadn't wanted to go and had been given free range of the house. It was peaceful before eight pm for the first time since they had arrived. It had been a brilliant Christmas, what with the twins popping home every night and Bill and Charlie coming back. Molly and Arthur (who had said earlier that they didn't mind if Harry wanted to call them aunt or uncle; they thought of him as a son, but weren't sure if he would be comfortable calling them mum and dad.) had cooked up a fantastic Christmas eve dinner, and the twins had (rather successfully) prepared the meal for Christmas day. There had been a few spats, but for the most part it had been all laughter. It was one of the best holidays he had ever had! Though his other holidays at Hogwarts were special, nothing could beat the family love that was shared in this home over the holidays.

"I hadn't planned on it. I hoped we could just keep it between us." Ron answered Hermione's question as he snuggled down into his pillows. Then he seemed to catch Hermione's rather affronted gaze and quickly added "At least for now, you know? Until I get a better grip on things." This seemed to appease her and she smiled between the two of them. She had pulled on the lavender coloured jumper Molly had made for her, and both he and Ron were already wearing theirs. They must have looked quite the site piled up with all the different colours in the corner of the tiny room.

Pigwidgeon had been tuckered out from sending a rather heavy letter to Hagrid from the three of them that afternoon, and was therefore sitting quietly in his cage. Occasionally he would give a half-hearted hoot, but beyond that he was too tired. Finally. Ron had sighed when he saw this. I swear he's not a normal owl, I don't care what Crookshanks thinks. He's messed up in the head that one. Hedwig had gone out into the cold winter night to hunt and wouldn't be back for a few hours.

The three of them had spent all afternoon discussing their holidays, the next semester, and playing various games. It had been very snowy outside and they hadn't felt up to leaving the warmth of the house. Now, however, Harry sensed that they were going to be discussing more than just school.

"Right. Well then, Harry. I'm sorry to ask but how's your scar?" He held off a grin at the look on Ron's face when she asked this question. It was a cross between exasperation and shock that she would just jump in like that. He shrugged at her.

"Fine for the most part. It hurts now and then, but nothing severe. And I'm still not having any issues with Voldemort trying to play with my mind-" Ron shuddered a bit at the name but they both ignored him. "Nothing new on that front, and the order isn't telling us anything at all."

"They're afraid we might run off and attack V-V-Mortie by our selves again." Ron grumbled and Harry had to agree. They had no plans on doing any such thing, but the order wasn't about to take any more chances. It was amusing actually, how paranoid they were of a group of teenagers overhearing their conversations. Lupin, Tonks, and various others had dropped by before Christmas and they had guarded their meetings like the goblins guarded Gringots.

"No matter, we'll learn what we need to know when we're meant to." She stated and suddenly a pile of books and paper appeared in the middle of their pile. Now that they were old enough to use magic whenever they wanted they made a point to show it off. It was quite the luxury and Harry was beginning to wonder how he ever managed outside of Hogwarts without it.

"You said a couple of books, Hermie, not half the library." Ron complained as he shifted a heavy text off his hand and then pulled at a piece of parchment, covered from top to bottom with her writing.

"If we're going to learn how to use the sixth sense right, then we need to do the proper research. Now." She fixed Ron with a look that reminded Harry of McGonagall when she was collecting homework. "Have you been practicing like we decided?"

"As if Harry would let me get away with not practicing."

"Good show Harry. Now, how's it going then?" Harry laughed at the sudden grin that split Ron's face as he launched into an explanation. Before leaving school they had decided that Ron would practice some basic skills to develop his sense. Every morning when they woke up he and Harry had sat in his room and he'd closed his eyes, searching for his family members by feeling where their energy was. The first two mornings hadn't worked so well because he was still trying to figure out how to read each person individually. After he began understanding how to do that he would say who was upstairs and who was down. They would then investigate. He hadn't been wrong since their fourth morning.

"It's peculiar is what it is. Each person feels slightly different but I didn't understand how at first. I'm not sure I understand it any more now, but I can recognize each energy signature I feel and place it to one of my family. It's like looking at a particular style of writing, and once I became familiar with it I had no trouble determining who was who."

"He can sense people all the way out to the road if he's concentrating hard enough. We scared the daylights out of Bill when he came home late from town one night! He still can't figure out how we knew where and when to hide to scare him."

"All the way to the road! That's fantastic!" She bubbled and started scribbling down some notes. Harry figured she would be writing a study up on this and really hoped that she would remember to ask Ron if she could publish it before going public. "Is it becoming any easier to distinguish between people?"

"I haven't really been anywhere but here, but I think so. Now that I know how to separate the signatures it shouldn't be too hard. I was doing it before, but not on purpose. In fact the only time I knew exactly who was behind me was when I was distracted and not thinking, just feeling."

"I guess it's safe to say you know Malfoy and Parkinson pretty well."

"And all the professors. It was crowds of people I don't know well that had me acting so jumpy. I guess it's probably a lot like Harry looking at a group of people without his glasses, all blurry and such."

"That's annoying as anything." Harry agreed and picked up a book. "Unsolved Crimes: A Psychics Intuition." He read out loud and looked at her in question. "He's not a psychic." He pointed out and she rolled her eyes, removing the book from his hands.

"It might give us some insight on why some people have a certain gift of sight while others are stuck with basic senses." She defended.

"Paranormal Presence and the Sixth Sense." Ron read out loud and looked at Harry. "This is going to be a long night mate."

"It's not that bad, in fact a lot of this is really interesting. Besides, most of these books are for reference more than anything else. We need all the information we can get." The night had flown by and by the time Ron's family trudged through the door all evidence of their research had disappeared and they were asleep in a pile on the floor. Harry never noticed Ron get up in the early morning or when he rejoined their pile not an hour before the house started waking up to the banging of the ghoul upstairs.

The next week had Hermione testing all sorts of theories on Ron and Harry had gleefully helped her. It was actually quite the gift to not be the center of attention, and he was relishing every moment. It wasn't often that he wasn't the cause of their extra research.

They went into town several times, allowed to apparate to a different location each time they went. There had been a story in the paper about Harry being swept out of country for the holidays and the threat of Mortie, as Ron had started calling him, was minimal for the time being. He was certain that Molly was actually grateful that they weren't at the house every hour, seeing as it was quite the crowd she had to manage. Ron was learning how to use his new gift quickly and he was surprising them all. They had figured it would take at least a month before he would be able to accurately use his sense without having to really concentrate. It turned out he was a natural at it, which lead them to believe that the brains hadn't created his sense, but just made him aware that he already had the skill.

When they had once again relocated to Hogwarts Ron was no longer having difficulty distinguishing how many people were around him (if he concentrated on it), and he was able to control the level his awareness stretched too. He had confided in Harry, one night at the burrow, that it was a relief to not have to consciously control the force of each signature around him. It appeared that every time he wasn't thinking about his sense it would randomly crash into him, freaking him out a bit. It's like being in the library. He had explained. You're just quietly minding your own business but know that there are loads of people milling about in the background, and then suddenly you're dropped in the middle of the stands of the quidditch cups final game! It drowns you and deafens you and you are bombarded by bodies and energy and, frankly, it startles the chocolate frogs out of you. That's why I used to get jumpy; I'd be minding my own business and then feel absolutely attacked. It only ever lasts a second, but it's bloody disconcerting.

Now Ron never had to think about controlling the spikes, he just adapted naturally. The first day back in Hogwarts had Hermione practically glued to his arm, which Harry had stood back and smirked at the whole time. She was in her element, solving problems, and hadn't let up until supper. She was finally satisfied with her information and Ron had looked relieved at being left alone. He had glared at Harry when he caught him smiling across the table, and had tried to kick him in silent retaliation. Seamus hadn't been impressed as he rubbed his shin to relieve the sharp pain.

Harry had been relieved that Ron hadn't blamed him for not noticing his –predicament- sooner, and he felt that their friendship had strengthened even more because of Ron's new talent. The first two weeks back (which saw Ron making incredible saves and Harry easily catching the snitch to win the quidditch match against Hufflepuff) had been busy but fun. They had developed a sort of code, as childish as they joked about it being, to warn when certain individuals were approaching them. Ron had dragged Harry into no less then four alcoves to hide once from the Creevey brothers, once from Snape, and twice from Mr. Filch's cat as they had snuck into the kitchen for some late night snacks. It was no doubt behaviour that could get them both into great trouble, especially Ron who was a prefect, but they thrived on the reckless feelings it gave them. They never did anything damaging and, between Harry's invisibility cloak and Ron's sense, they had explored several areas of Hogwarts that they had never been before. They had even avoided detection from no less then two Aruror's, which made them both exhilarated and fearful. If they could get by the highly trained guards, then who else could?

Now Harry stood, alongside the rest of his class, in ankle deep snow watching his teacher, and good friend, Hagrid carefully place his last dragon newt back in its box. It was Wednesday, just before dinner, and they had finished another double Magical Creatures class. Harry felt his smile stretch his face as several students around him asked Hagrid questions about his latest creature. They had spent the last hour, examining the hand sized animals, learning which of the six arms to watch out for, how to care for it, how to handle it without getting hurt by its burning bodily liquids, what medicinal purposes it had and all the rest. It had been a fascinating class, despite how tricky the creatures could be.

Hagrid had been improving greatly as a teacher, especially since his first year of teaching. He still loved his dangerous creatures, but he introduced more variety now, interspersing his blast-ended skrewts with flying orange foxes and other, nicer, creatures.

"That was excellent Hagrid!" Hermione beamed as he headed over to them, carrying the box with his precious cargo tucked under one massive arm. His eyes crinkled as he grinned, and he rubbed his beard quickly in pride.

"Thank you Hermione! Next week will be even better, seein' as my piranhawalkers will be old enough to introduce. I've had 'em growin' since last term and they're gettin to a right impressive size." Harry noticed both Ron and Hermione's smiles falter but not disappear as they imagined what that class would be like. Harry had seen the animals briefly the other week and knew that they would have to be quick to control them. Fortunately they were at the stage where using certain spells to help them was encouraged, though Hagrid preferred they learn how to handle everything with their bare hands.

"And I'm sure we'll be right impressed with trying to keep our limbs attached." Ron smiled and Harry laughed as Hagrid heartily pat him on the back, knocking him slightly off his feet.

"That ye will young Mr. Weasley. Now, how's about you three join me fer a cup of tea. I know Fang'll be right eager to see ye, as it's been almost two months since ye've had time to stop in. I've got some fresh rock cakes fer ye to munch on, baked 'em not four hours ago."

"We'd love to." Harry answered and they headed back to his table where all his tools sat. As had become routine over the years they began helping him to pack things away, Harry working as fast as he could as the heating spell he'd placed on himself finally began to wear off. Ron had helped himself to the box holding the three dragon newts and looked over at Hagrid, waiting for direction.

"Those'll be goin' out back in the shed. Just put 'em on the table and that'll be fine." Hagrid told him and Ron turned away to trudge around back, his flaming hair standing on end from the slight breeze. "Oh and Ron? Stay away from the cage covered with a blanket, right? We don't want to wake Buttercup up." Hagrid then happily led Harry and Hermione to his home, which they were very familiar with. Fang had insisted on saying hello as they tried to get in the door, doing his best to lick Harry's face as his massive tail thumped noisily against the shelf to the side of them. If it hurt the big dog he didn't seem to notice as he happily followed their movements. Once Harry had put down his load he pet the large black head, grinning as the dropping eyes seemed to smile at him. Hagrid went and put a pot of water on the fire and fished out a plate of his rock cakes, which really were as hard as eating rocks. He helped Hermione with her cloak and then headed to the window, no doubt to check on Ron's progress. After a second his enormous body seemed to freeze in place and then he was rushing to the door, hastily grabbing a large chain from a chair as he went.

Harry and Hermione scrambled out the door after him, seeing him round the corner of his house and Harry felt his stomach freeze up in dread. Ron was behind the house, and Hagrid had looked as close to panicked as Harry had ever seen him. He automatically pulled out his wand and instinctively knew that Hermione had done the same, and they rushed around the corner together, not knowing what to expect and yet prepared for anything. At least he hoped they were.

He skidded to a halt at the sight of Ron standing off to one side, his hands up in caution as he stared over to where Hagrid now was. His face was pale but he looked over at Harry and Hermione when they arrived, and slowly headed over to them.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked and Hagrid was suddenly spinning Ron around and frantically patting him down, his eyes intense as he looked over him.

"Ye all right Ron? She didn't hurt ye?"

"Yes, no, I'm fine." Ron stammered, looking around Hagrid. Harry followed his gaze and saw a large cage with a blanket hastily thrown over it, obscuring the view of what was inside.

"Fine? Fine? Bloody lucky to be alive is what you are! I told ye not t'go near her didn't I?" Hagrid demanded, looking for all the world as though he was recovering from a heart attack, his face beneath his massive beard was pale and his hands were shaking slightly.

"I didn't go near her!" Ron replied hotly, regaining some of his colour as his temper flared at the accusation. "I put the newts away like you said and came out of the shed. I heard a noise and turned around and it was behind me. I never went near the cage, I'm not suicidal!"

"Allrigh' I'm sorry I barked at ye. Fer a moment there I thought you were…well that doesn't matter now. Buttercup was just lying there, asleep like that when you left the shed?"

"Y-yes. I figured I'd back away slowly to get you but you came around the corner only a moment later."

"And you didn't notice her when you went into the shed?"

"No." Ron replied and Harry noticed that his hands were shaking a bit too, though he had them mostly hidden under his robes.

"Strange that is." Hagrid replied and looked over at the cage before herding them back to his house.

"Why is it strange? What is Buttercup Hagrid?" Hermione asked and he didn't reply until he had them all inside.

"Yer not to tell anyone this, right? Professor Snape and Madame Pomfry had her brought here two days ago. She's in heat you see, and she molts at this time of year. We're harvesting her undercoat for some very rare medicines."

"But what is she?" Hermione pressed on and Hagrid bustled over to the now whistling kettle.

"She's a Barilog, from Switzerland."

"A Barilog! Are you mad?" She burst and Ron paled a bit at the name, though Harry suspected he already knew what the creature had been. Harry, however, was once again in ignorance of this particular bit of Wizarding knowledge.

"What's a Barilog?" He asked and Hermione, still looking shocked, answered him.

"It's a rare beast from the Alps. It eats meat, attacks people, has razor sharp claws and spits poisonous needles from the back of its throat that paralyze its prey. It usually doesn't grow any larger then a small dog, but it is extremely dangerous, and should never be in the premises of a school, or public area of any kind." She glared back at Hagrid who was nodding his head in agreement, which seemed to throw her off.

"I know it Hermione, and it's leavin tonight. It was only here for three days and only the staff was to know about it. Ron's right lucky it got out at day instead of night."

"Why?" He asked again, suddenly understanding why his friend had looked so terrified. He looked over at Ron now, who seemed to be a bit full of adrenalin still. His feet were bouncing an erratic tune on the floor.

"It usually sleeps during the day. I think it was too tired to do any attackin', though that in itself is unusual, seeing as once they're awake they're down right feral. Ye didn't see who let it out or any one else in the area that could have put 'er to sleep?"

"No, just me and the dragon newts. Can we maybe stop talking about the creature that could have been the cause of my premature demise not ten minutes ago? It's a bit…unnerving at the moment." And they moved on to another topic. Hagrid had steered clear of talking about the Barilog, but he kept glancing at Ron in worry, as if he was reassuring himself that he was okay. He said he had both Snape and Pomfrey's locking charms on the cage, so the only way it escaped was through the aid of magic. This fact put all four of them on edge, because it meant that somebody was trying to do them harm.

Later that night, just before curfew, Ron quietly slipped out of the Gryffindor common room, and Harry followed him, staying back even though he was well aware that Ron knew he was following. He had to hurry along quickly at a few points and he got the impression that Ron was trying to ditch him. This only intensified his search. He'd had to ask several paintings which way he went, and they had gladly informed him, watching curiously as he sped on. He stopped sharply when he heard Ron suddenly call out, and he hid in the dark shadows, peering around the corner.

"Oi! Malfoy, a word if you will." There was nothing inviting in Ron's voice and Harry was momentarily startled by its tone. They had been through quite a few scraps together, life threatening in fact, and Ron had never sounded so confident and commanding. As he peaked around the corner he saw Malfoy stop, only steps away from the Slytherin entrance to their dorms, which was guarded by a rather aggressive looking statue. Its eyes watching them suspiciously.

"What is it Weasley, it's past your bed time," was the snide remark, blue eyes flashing coldly. Ron stalked right up to him though, and looked down into his eyes as if he could see what Draco was thinking. The Slytherin faltered a moment before returning with a glare of his own.

"What do you know about Hagrid's Barilog getting out?" Harry shucked in a breath at Ron's revealing question. How could he betray his friends trust like that?

"Bloody thing got out did it? Too bad it didn't have a chance to get you, end your family's suffering." Ron just stared at him and waited, and after a moment Draco caved, glaring angrily up at Harry's best friend. "Look, I don't know anything about plans for it to get out. As far as I know only the teachers, and now you, know about it. Don't worry, I didn't sic it on your precious boyfriend." The blonde sneered, trying to get a rise from Ron.

"That's good. Stay away from them Malfoy, and if you learn who let it loose, I suggest you warn them off too." There was no shoving to enhance his threat, and no real malice in his calm voice. It was the look that Ron was giving Malfoy that convinced the Slytherin to keep staying away.

"How'd you find our dormitories entrance anyway? You better not spread it around." Malfoy glared.

"Don't be daft." Ron called over his shoulder as he left the area with long strides. He rounded the corner and automatically slowed down, allowing Harry to catch up.

"You use your sense to find him?"

"Yep. Bloody useful it is."

"That's pretty much what you said to him on the train then." Harry deducted and Ron grinned ferally.

"Pretty much, mind you it sounded more like 'Keep yourself and yer baboons away from Harry, Hermione, and our friends.' Apparently he thought that was a good idea. He's all talk, you just have to know how to get him to listen." Harry nodded and grinned as they walked along, back to their tower. Ron had the temper of his mother with the calm logic of his father. It appeared he had finally mastered how to use them together, if that little show was anything to go by. Harry was glad that he and Hermione would never be the recipients of that glare.

OOOOO

"You had me at hello."

"What the bloody hell is that?" Ron asked as he walked into the darkened common room for Gryffindor tower.

"Shhhhhhh!" Several witches and one (unidentifiable) wizard hissed at him. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at Harry for an explanation. Harry grinned at him and watched as he made his way along the side of the common room carefully, glancing at the television with curiosity every few steps.

"Hey, is that one of those telees you and Hermione go on about?" He asked as he slid into the empty armchair beside Harry and across from Hermione. Harry noticed he leaned a bit closer to the fire, no doubt to warm up a bit. His hair was a bit wet, which meant he had probably been outside for a few minutes before coming to join them. His blue eyes focused on the television with interest, sparkling merrily in the firelight.

"It is." Hermione answered back quietly, trying to not make too much noise for the crowd gathered around it. Some were curled up on conjured couches, others had pulled the common room furniture in front of the box and others still were sprawled on the floor underneath a patchwork of blankets. "Neville and Ginny asked if they could borrow the muggle studies television so they could introduce it to the people who had never seen one. They've been glued to it for the last hour and a half."

"Any particular reason for this sudden interest?"

"Harry mentioned it at lunch today, about how it was a box that told all sorts of stories. I guess it just caught their attention, and with all of our essays due and final exams coming up next month they no doubt wanted an excuse to procrastinate." She looked disapproving at this and Harry grinned. She was irritated with anyone doing something that she thought of as time wasting.

"Dad would love that contraption. He told me he'd seen them in muggle shops before but they were too much to buy. Mind you he'd probably ruin it after a day, trying to figure out how it all worked."

"My parents have an old one collecting dust in the attic. It doesn't work anymore but maybe they'll be willing to part with it. I'll ask next time I send an owl."

"That would be brilliant! Dad could use a bit of cheering up! He's been going crazy at work, dealing with stupid pranks and such in between dodging questions from his fellows and Fudge. He's a right prat he is, and if the wizarding world has any intelligence he'll be shoved off at the next election." Harry nodded in agreement and followed Ron's gaze, watching the muggle actor strut around in a suit. He liked television, but he never had really watched it. Dudley had always had control over it and Harry usually wasn't allowed to stay in the living room when his cousin watched. He'd never been to the cinema either. Maybe he could take Ron for his birthday, that way they could both see something new and fun. They could make a day of it, and maybe Hermione would want to come.

"We can only hope." Hermione replied to Ron's statement, and then she rolled up her parchment and began closing the books around her.

"You're done then?" Harry asked, looking longingly at her packing away and then at his own work. Their new defense against the dark arts teacher (Professor Kawolskelli) was as demanding as Snape and McGonagall. She would spring pop quizzes, both written and practical, on a whim; assigned an essay a week that didn't relate to the subject they were currently studying; and had absolutely no patience for her students whatsoever. She was a damn sight better than Umbridge though and so far not one of the three of them had complained. Even Neville wasn't complaining, and ever since the DA he had gained a confidence that had him helping other students in the class as opposed to being the one needing help. It was just that Harry really didn't feel like writing this essay tonight. He'd only finished a late meal an hour ago, after being held back in DADA to practice a shielding spell. Kawolskelli had taken it upon herself to give Harry a few extra pointers.

"It's one of her easier essays." Hermione explained and then looked at him with pity. She pulled out a book she had just packed away and tossed it on the table between them. "The pink stubs are for defense against it, the green are methods of incapacitation, and orange is for background. Goodnight." She hurried away as if afraid that Kawolskelli might burst into the tower any moment and find her helping them so much. Ron grinned as he leaned forward and snagged the book. He was looking a bit warmer now, though his shoulders still looked tense. He looked like Harry felt: relaxed and safe but always tense, waiting for the next disaster to sneak up on him. Harry had nights when he couldn't sleep, feeling the pressure of the wizarding world on his shoulders.

He was getting mail on an almost daily basis now, strangers thanking him for being Harry Potter and asking him when he'd get around to saving them all. It was as if he simply needed to decide when, where, and what time he would fight Tom Riddle. We'll just schedule it in after our Defense Against the Darks Arts exam shall we? That way all three of us will be free for the final battle. We can go to dinner at the Leaky Cauldron after, assuming the fight will be in London of course. Ron had scoffed in irritation. He had then grabbed the day planner Hermione had so thoughtfully given Harry and scrawled under June 22nd, in his usual messy handwriting: Battle with Mortie, London, 3p.m. Harry had only been able to laugh at that point, even though he felt a sick twist in his stomach and knew, from the way that Ron laughed with him, that his friend was suffering the same twist. It was Harry's battle to fight, but Ron and Hermione were just as scared and involved as he was.

Harry came back to himself as Ron tossed the heavy text, with a thump, on the table. The lights were a bit brighter now and those that had been watching the movie were clambering over each other to go to their next activity, be it sleep, homework, or whatever.

"Where were you at lunch?" He asked and picked up the book himself, turning to the first tab. It showed a rather vivid image of a fire elemental striding towards the photographer. It had no discerning features, just the basic shape of a person.

"Malfoy wanted to talk." Ron shrugged, and began pulling parchment from his almost defeated book bag, trying to look as if it was nothing too serious and at the same time practically bursting with the need to tell Harry all about it. All Harry needed to do was ask, to find out what had happened this time.

"About what?" He couldn't quite disguise the bitterness in his voice but Ron ignored it. Malfoy was on neither of their good lists, for many reasons. Ron turned to him and pulled out his wand. Harry leaned over a bit to hide it from their fellow housemates view and Ron quietly muttered "esufnoc trotsid." With their garbling charm in place (one that they shared with Hermione, Neville, and Ginny) nobody would be able to interpret what they said, unless they recorded it and listened to each word backwards. Of course even recording it was impossible because Dumbledore (who had walked up on them during one of their garbled conversations near the room of requirement Ron still didn't know why he hadn't sensed the wizards approach) had casually mentioned the title and page number of a text containing a charm that would garble any recording devices as he strolled by. They had blended the two spells to work together perfectly. Hermione had been very proud, for it had been their first personalized spell. They normally didn't learn how to do that until they reached a higher level of education, such as auror training.

"He had a blow out at home over the holidays, something to do with his dad I think. He wasn't to clear on it and I didn't ask. Whatever it was he seems to be less inclined to help out Mortie's movement than he was when his dad was still free. He told me that we needed to keep an eye out for the person who let loose the Barilog, said he didn't know who it was yet but he suspected they were spying for their parents, an unsuspected death eater." Harry gazed at him incredulously, not quite sure he was hearing everything right.

"Malfoy pulled you over to say he was turning on Voldemort because he was mad at his dad, and he's trying to help us now."

"Yep." Ron answered and grinned at Harry, who figured he must have a stupid look on his face.

"And you believe him?"

"Give me some credit Harry" He exclaimed. "I'm not the smartest by far, but I'm not an idiot. He's a Malfoy, he's been bred to lie and manipulate; it's in his blood."

"I was just checking." Harry replied quickly, though he new Ron wasn't mad at him. Then a bizarre thought entered his head and he wondered if he was losing his mind for even thinking it. "What if he's telling the truth? Helping us would be the ultimate revenge against his father, if that's what he wants."

"True. I've been thinking about it all afternoon and came to the conclusion that, while we can't trust a breath that comes from his mouth, we can't ignore what he says."

"So we need to keep an eye out for a spy. Tell us something we don't already know."

"I know, but it does reinforce the message doesn't it. We've been keeping a definite eye out since the Barilog incident, and we know that the professor's are aware of it as well."

"We'll watch Malfoy more closely, and we'll need to start taking a note on who is around us and when. It would be stupid to only watch out for Slytherin, so we'll need to be more careful around everyone, including Gryffindor." Harry felt his chest tighten as he said this. Ron could have been killed last week, and it was apparently a miracle that the Barilog hadn't mauled him to death. Someone in their school was out to get them, and finally accepting that it could be anyone, even one of their own housemates, was going to make living here even more unbearable.

"I agree. I know our professors wouldn't have us living with anyone they thought was dangerous, but it's impossible for them to be sure." He looked grim, his blue eyes flashing angrily as he held back a few choice words about this new situation.

"We'll have to tell Hermione and Ginny about this."

"And maybe Neville." Ron added and Harry nodded in agreement. Dean and Seamus were trustworthy and good friends, but Harry wasn't sure how much he wanted them to know. They just weren't in the same level as Hermione, Ron and Neville, who Harry would trust with anything.

"We should start looking for anti-spy charms to place around our dorm and such. There's no harm in our books being taken, seeing as we never write anything other than work in them. We need to make sure that the five of us will not speak of anything that could give any information about us away, outside of such charms." Ron was nodding his head in agreement, eyes flickering behind Harry a moment and then gazing at him again, intent on the conversation.

"I'll have to tell Ginny about the sixth sense so she'll stop pestering me all the time. Neville should probably know too if we're including him on this. However," Ron pulled his wand out and Harry, without any real thought, leaned forward to block his action again, "We should discuss this later, seeing as we're starting to collect some strange looks. Reverso trotsid." With a quick and precise flick of his wand their garble spell was removed and he slipped his wand back out of sight. Harry heard Pavarti approach behind him just as she leaned around his chair.

"You boys look serious, is something wrong?"

"Yes, I've decided to quit the quidditch team so I can focus more on my prefect obligations." Ron answered, sounding so distressed that Harry knew he would have believed his best friend if he hadn't known it was a joke.

"What!" Pavarti yelled, suddenly glaring down at Ron in shock and worry. "You can't do that! You've made a commitment to our team! There's no way we can train a keeper in time for the final!" The look of horror on her face as well as her outburst was drawing attention to them and Angelina stormed over, looking at them for an explanation. She stared at Ron for a second, and then smiled, shaking her head in fondness and dragging Pavarti away from them. Harry heard her telling the girl that Ron was pulling her leg, and if that wasn't the case then she would pull his right off. So really there was nothing to worry about. He and Ron laughed together as the hubbub died down.

"Really, you'd think quidditch was the most important thing in the world." Ron muttered as he finally began preparing his quill and kicking Harry under the table before he could reply. Then they worked, until they were the last in the common room and the moon was high in the sky outside. By the time they finished Harry's eyes were drooping closed on their own accord and Ron looked like he was on his last legs. When they went to sleep they made sure their alarm was set properly, and Harry lay on his back, eyes closed, listening as Ron's breathing evened out across the room. His scar flared in pain briefly and then settled down again. Voldemort's movements were becoming more frequent, and Harry was finding that his forehead hurt more often than not lately. He had a feeling, deep in his being, that told him the final battle was approaching. He was beginning to lose sleep, and the prophecy was more on his mind now than it had been in months. He hoped, with all his heart, that he would be strong enough when the time came.

Tbc

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