"That was –"

"I know," Harry said, pacing back and forth in front of the couch.

Kit sighed, kicking off her shoes. As she tucked her feet under her, Harry spoke.

"Did you want some music?"

Kit shook her head. Harry shrugged.

"Are you going to –?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, still pacing, not looking up at her.

"Did you want me to –?"

"No, no, it's alright."

Kit fell silent. Harry's quiet footsteps filled the room, and both of them became lost in their thoughts.

After ten minutes of pacing, Harry threw himself onto the couch next to Kit. She wrapped him in a comforting hug and he laid his head on her shoulder.

"It's never been this bad," he said hoarsely, causing her to pull him closer.

"It'll be alright," she whispered into his hair. Harry shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said, voice almost cracking.

Kit let go of him, surprised.

"Why are you crying?" she asked, bewildered.

Harry shrugged, sitting up and wiping his eyes. "It's just ... it's never been ... I know he ... and Hermione was always ... no matter what ..."

Kit took both his trembling hands into her own. She leant forward, kissing him on the cheek, causing his tear-streaked face to look upwards.

Her golden eyes were dancing, and as he stared into them, he felt as though everything would be all right.

"Let's dance," she whispered, letting go of his hands and putting in a CD.

As the first notes played, Harry smiled, getting off the couch.

He swept her off her feet as they began to dance. He just wanted to hold her. She was his relief from all the drama, and relief was all he needed.

"Ron?"

The redhead looked up slowly, his face tear-stained and sober. He gave a half smile at the older wizard, but his eyes were still dark, cold, and utterly sad.

"What can I get you?" the younger barmaid asked as Remus sat next to his student.

"The good stuff," he said, leaning forlornly on the counter.

"Why are you here?" Ron asked quietly, and Remus was glad to see the glass was still full.

"The same reason you are," he replied, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his own glass.

Ron shook his head. "Your heart wasn't smashed to bits, was it?"

"No," Remus said, "but I saw Krum and –"

"I don't want to talk about it," Ron snapped, absentmindedly brushing away another tear.

Remus fell silent and finished his drink. As he threw some coins on the counter and stood up, he added, "At least you aren't a werewolf."

Ron shrugged and watched him walk out. Turning towards the barmaid he asked, "Why do I feel like this?"

The girl was quiet for a moment before she replied. As she wiped off the counter around him, she sighed heavily.

"You're a friend of Harry Potter's, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Ron said, looking up at her out of red eyes. "Why?"

"Oh, he came into the café I work at one day in December," she said, laughing slightly, "and I overheard him talking to a girl about you."

Ron grunted, drinking in the sight of the amber liquid in his glass.

The girl leant forward. "I also overheard a lot of talk about some Hermy-"

"Hermione," Ron corrected, and as he did, tears filled his eyes again.

The girl wore a look of compassion.

"I don't know what to –"

But Ron shook his head, dislodging the tears that had been threatening to fall. "You don't have to say anything," he choked, wiping the tears with the back of his hand. He picked up his glass and swirled its contents. His face wore a look of disgust as he sniffed it.

He looked up at the barmaid.

"Is this the best stuff you have?"

The girl smiled and shook her head. "Nope," she said, taking the glass from him. "Hold on a tick and I'll get you the good stuff."

As she went into the back, Ron laid his head on the counter.

"She lied to me," he breathed miserably. "She said she loved me, but now …" He let out a despairing moan. "That stupid prophesy. Bugger it."

"Here you go," she said happily, putting the glass in front of him.

"Milk?" he asked incredulously.

"You wanted the good stuff," she said, smiling at him.

Shrugging, he took a sip anyways.

"So, you two had a fight?" she asked hesitantly.

Ron nodded.

"Over that Quidditch bloke?"

"How do you know about him?" he asked surprised.

"Rita Skeeter, when she was still writing," she replied with a laugh. "She's been quieter lately, hasn't she?"

"Yeah," Ron sighed, smiling in a painful sort of way. "Hermione threatened her … long story."

"I have all night," she said, as she poured herself a glass, and Ron poured out his heart.

"He came back at two this morning."

"Sober again?"

"Yeah. And really sad."

"Anyone would be."

"He couldn't put his socks on properly this morning."

"Socks?"

"Yep. I had to help him."

"That sucks."

"Tell me about it."

It was Charms, Monday morning. Ron and Hermione were not speaking to each other. They had both spent Sunday in their dorms, Harry helping Ron, Kit helping Hermione. Ron had snuck out while everyone was at dinner Sunday night, and Harry had stayed up, searching the map for any sign of him.

"She broke his heart," Kit said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

"It broke hers."

"He told me himself. Asked if I knew what it felt like. I said no, and he just said, 'well, you're a lucky one, then.'"

"Poor guy," Harry sighed, flicking his wand to perform the charm perfectly for the fifth time in a row.

"He acted as though he was the richest man on Earth," Kit said, staring off into space.

"They've come such a long way from first year. Patched up most of their problems, and now …"

They fell into another silence, but a nearby conversation drew their attention.

Pavarti and Lavender, who were seated three tables away from Kit and Harry, were having a lively conversation. So lively, in fact, that it was drawing the attention of most of the class.

The topic of discussion: the weekend.

"Oh, come on," Lavender was saying to Pavarti, "he totally deserved it."

"I know, but they all think they were for real."

"Ha! He didn't even love her!"

"Love?" Pavarti asked sceptically, "he just wanted some –"

"Really?"

"Of course! Why else would she have –?"

Harry was over at their desk in a matter of seconds.

"Shut up."

Pavarti looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, come on, Harry," she said. "You know it's the truth."

"It's not the truth," Harry growled, leaning forward, "so you keep your mouths shut."

"Okay," they both said smally.

Harry turned around and went back to his table.

"Nicely done," Kit praised him as soon as he had sat back down.

"Yes," another voice said from behind them. "Thank you."

Turning around, they found Ron, standing behind them, looking like a lost puppy. Harry slid over, allowing Ron to take a seat between the two of them.

"Did you want us to do anything for you?" Kit asked.

"I just want to talk to her again," Ron replied, and upon closer inspection, Kit noticed tears welling up in his eyes.

"That can be arranged," Kit said, smiling slightly, and as the bell rang, she walked out before either boy could question further.

That night at the D.A. meeting, Sasha entered the room, looking as radiant as ever, asking if she could help. As they were practising even harder defensive spells, Harry needed all the help he could get. As he agreed to the extra assistance, a scream erupted from the far corner of the room.

"Luna!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't –"

Harry had fought his way over to where Hermione and Luna were practising, only to find –

"Purple! How am I supposed to get this out of my hair?" Hermione moaned.

Sasha sighed. With a flick of her wand, Hermione's hair resumed its natural shade of boring brown.

"Thank you," she said, turning to Sasha confusedly.

"Okay!" Harry shouted, causing everyone in the room to stop what they were doing. "Everyone, this is Sasha. She's a member of the Order."

Several 'hello's were muttered throughout the room, Neville and Ginny giving the loudest of the lot.

"Now, partner switch," Harry continued, "and keep practicing until nine."

They practiced; Sasha, Remus, and Harry walked around, correcting movement, incantations, and stances. The night dragged on, as everyone grew increasingly more tired. But it all finally came to an end. Unfortunately, many missed spells caused heavy damage to the room, as well as some students.

His brother and Sasha, Ernie Macmillon and Remus escorted Colin Creevey and Hannah Abbot to hospital wing. The others helped each other to their respectable common rooms, leaving Harry, Ron, Kit, and Hermione with a helpless Neville and the debris of the lesson.

Harry was already helping Neville up.

"I'll help you," Kit and Ron said in unison. Both shot each other a look.

Harry looked between his three friends at a loss. After seeing the look Kit had shot him, he went against his instincts.

"Ron," he began, arranging his face into what he hoped would be a passive look, "could you –?"

"Sure," he said immediately, not waiting for the rest of the question and starting forwards.

"Thanks," Harry said quickly. "Kit, will you help me with Neville?"

"Sure," she said, not daring to look back at the couple they had imprisoned.

"You're horrible," Harry said as soon as the door had closed behind them.

Kit merely shrugged, helping to support Neville as the three of them made their way quietly to the hospital wing.

"Why?"

Harry hung his head.

"Kit told me to."

Ron let out a frustrated sigh.

"You're whipped," he said, throwing himself onto his four-poster bed. "You know that, eh?"

"Oh, because you're not?" Harry retorted.

Ron chose to ignore his comment.

"She still didn't talk to me."

"Did you try to talk to her?" Harry asked exasperatedly.

"Well – no – not really."

"What do you mean, 'not really'?" Harry asked, sitting up straighter on the edge of his bed.

"Well," Ron began, fidgeting with the corner of his pillowcase.

"What?"

But before Ron could answer, the dormitory door flew open.

"How could you say that to her?"

Ron blushed crimson, refusing to look at Kit in the doorway.

"I mean," she continued, slamming the door behind her, "you're sixteen years old, so of course your penis is going to control the words coming out of your mouth ... BUT YOU'RE A PREFECT!"

"What did he say?" Harry asked urgently. Unfortunately, Kit seemed deaf to his words.

"And, no offence or anything, but you don't have the money to have a wedding, let alone elope to America!"

"You were going to –?"

"Shut up, Harry," Kit snarled, now advancing on Ron. "But you just had to go and bring up Viktor, who, as you know, has already proposed to her!"

"But she didn't say yes!" Ron shouted, jumping out of bed and towering over Kit.

"She didn't say no, either!" she shouted back. "But by saying what you did, it might as well be you signing the marriage certificate!"

In the brief silence that followed, Harry's eyes landed on one of the two most hurt people in the room.

"Hermione," he whispered, but with a startled look on her face, the dormitory door shut with a snap.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry wretched the door open and flew down the stairs.

"Hermione, wait," he gasped, grabbing her arm as she made to go up the girls' dormitory stairs.

"Let me go, Harry," she breathed, her mood not reflecting in her voice.

"Not until you tell me –"

"You've already heard it all from Kit!" she said, somewhat hysterical.

"But I want to know what you're going to do about it now," Harry said calmly, conjuring a tissue box as he spoke. Hermione smiled a wet smile.

"Impressive," she whispered, taking one from him.

"I've been practicing," he said, leading her to the now empty common room. "Now, get talking."

"What's our next plan of action?" Kit asked during breakfast the next morning.

"I don't know," Harry replied, defeated and tired. Hermione had gone hoarse with the two hours of spilling her heart out to Harry.

"Maybe we should let them have a break," Kit suggested, but her voice contained no conviction.

Harry shrugged. "I just don't want him driven to drink again."

"No one does," Kit said as the first bell rang. "Herbology, come on."

As they made their way across the grounds to the greenhouses, they caught up with Ron. He was walking alone, and concentrating on a letter in his hands.

"Whatcha readin'?" Kit asked, catching the redhead by surprise.

"Nothing," he said hastily, stuffing it into his cloak pocket.

"Whatever you say, Captain!" Kit said cheekily, running ahead.

"Why is she so happy?" Ron asked Harry as they quickened their pace.

"I have no idea."