Chapter 8

January 27

Dear Sirius,

I actually went to meet this person… the one that sent me the notes. And surprisingly, she was really nice. Yes, she. Her name is Danielle. She's a blonde, but only physically. (You know how I make cracks about the lot of them.) She's really smart. She's in Ravenclaw and she says she's new this year.

She seems really nice, Sirius, and unlike any other girl I've ever met. We're meeting later for butterbeer… maybe I'll skip Potions.

I just got back from lunch with Danielle. What a great time—much better than wasting time with Snape. We had a great conversation; I really think she understands me.

"Hey Harry," she had said. "I already ordered your drink." I sat down next to her.

"So what class are you skipping right now?"

I laughed. "You know me too well. Today I decided to run out on Snape."

She nodded. "Good choice. I absolutely can't stand him! The way he favors the Slytherins so much… it's disgusting." I agreed very much.

We talked about a lot—school, Quidditch (she really knows a lot; even gave me some tips), N.E.W.T.s, the Dursleys… she didn't pressure me at all about being famous or my parents or anything.

Danielle's a really fun person, Sirius. I wish you were around to meet her.

I've asked Ron and Hermione to the Psychic Llama tomorrow night. I won't be dancing, of course, but I thought we could finally catch up.

I've been a little cheerier lately, Sirius. It's pretty odd for me. I'm not sure if I like it, but… it seems to work.

January 28

Dear Sirius,

I was waiting in the Psychic Llama holding a table for the three of us. It wasn't like Hermione to be late, but it was like Ron, so I didn't know what to expect.

Ron comes running in pretty late, with Hermione behind him yelling something. I smiled, but something wasn't right. Ron was puffing really hard and his ears were red.

"You let my sister get drunk?" he yelled, loud enough for the whole club to hear.

"I- um…"

"I let you take her out one night, I even approved, and you let her drink till she's tipsy?"

"Well-"

"Well what!"

"Ron, please," Hermione quietly intervened. "Can we take this somewhere a little more private?"

"Hermione, how do you expect me to react-?"

"Ronald," she said sharply. She looked pointedly around the room. Everyone was staring.

"Oh," he said. "Right. Erm, sorry everyone."

Ron walked out, Hermione behind him, and I followed. Once we were safely out of earshot of the villagers, Ron exploded again.

"So what the hell is your problem?" he demanded.

"Look Ron, it was your sister's choice. Ginny's sixteen now; I'm not going to try to control her. Especially when I'm not her brother or anything."

"You thought it was okay for a sixteen-year-old to drink? Just because you can't control you drinking, Harry, doesn't mean you have to influence my sister."

BAM. My fist collided with Ron's cheekbone. He held his bleeding face and stared at me. Hermione took his shoulders and glared at me as she led him away.

"Harry," she said. "I was willing to come here today and forgive and forget. I know I haven't exactly been the best friend, spending more time with Ron and everything.

"But this is going too far. I can't watch you hit your best friend."

"Best friend?" I spat. "When did you two stop being my best friends? We'll see who has any best friends tomorrow."

She looked at the snow. She looked at me and bit her lip.

"Bye, Harry."

Who needs them, anyway? You'd think they thought they were my saviors who rescued me from utter peril or something.

And I don't have a drinking problem. What is wrong with people? Have they never seen a teenager go out and have fun and drink a night? You'd think we were all Puritans and I was the odd man out.

It's freezing out here—I'm on the Quidditch pitch instead of in the castle. Even though it's snowing, being on the pitch makes me a little more comfortable. It's freezing, so before I die of cold I'm going to go up to the dormitory. I've only got about another half hour before class lets out and it's time for dinner.

So I get back to the dorm with the fire blazing, and guess who was lying on my bed? Ginny. Yeah. Perfect, huh? I asked her what she thought she was doing. When she looked at me, her eyes were puffy and sore, her nose was red and her cheeks were wet.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she sniffed. "I know you kind of hate me being around you, but Ron is really mad at me so I just want to be away from him for a little while. I know he'd never miss a meal." She sniffed again.

I had to admit, she was right about the meal thing.

"Ginny, I don't… I don't hate being around you. You can stay… Ron's mad at me too. …Drinking?"

She nodded. "And you for… letting me?"

"Yep."

We were silent for a minute, an awkward silence.

"Well, I'll order enough for both of us." I said. She stared at me blankly.

"Food," I explained. "You've got to eat."
"Harry, there's no room service at Hogwarts. How are you supposed to get food for us without going downstairs?"

I grinned. "I have my ways." Taking out a piece of parchment, I wrote:

Send up enough food for two.

Harry.

Tying the parchment to Hedwig's leg, I whispered, "Take this to Dobby."

A/N: Well there you have it! Chapter 8. Sorry it took me so long.

Don't really have anything to say, but review!

OOA