Chapter 47

"Knock it off," Seamus snapped, when Neville, who was sitting beside him on one of the sofas in the Common Room, shifted his weight and swung around to peer up the staircase leading up to the dormitories for the fourth time. "I'm trying to write here."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," Neville apologized, spinning around to face forward again
and flopping against the back of the couch with a sigh.

"What's the matter with you anyway?" Seamus asked, stilling his quill and looking up from his History of Magic essay.

"Nothing," he replied. "It's just... I need my essay and I left it upstairs."

"So go get it."

"I can't," Neville groaned. "Well, I could," he added, when the young Irishman rolled his eyes. "But I'd rather wait until Ron and Hermione are finished...you know..."

"Bellowing at one another?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah. So Harry," Neville said, directing his attention towards the young man with tousled black hair and glasses, who was sitting in a chair to his left. "How much longer do you think it will be?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Harry asked, as he lowered his book to discover
both of his roommates studying him.

"You must have some idea what they're arguing about," Neville explained.

"No clue," Harry replied honestly. "But knowing those two, it could be anything."

"Who cares?" Seamus chimed in. "I'm just glad they took it somewhere else. At least they're not shrieking like a couple of banshees down here. I hate it when they do that. Oh all right," he admitted, when he noted the disbelieving looks his companions shot in his direction. "I don't actually hate it. In fact, it's fairly entertaining, but not when I have a mountain of homework to finish."

"I don't suppose you'd go up and see how much longer they're going to be?" Neville asked Harry hopefully.

"Me?" he asked in surprise. "Why don't you do it?"

"Because he's afraid he'll get caught in the crossfire," Seamus sniggered, "At least if they curse you by accident they'd stop fighting long enough to repair the damage. If they hit one of us they probably wouldn't even notice, or care."

"I'm sure they'd notice," Harry assured them.

"But they wouldn't stop bickering."

"Er..." Harry mumbled, as he pictured Ron pushing Hermione to the point that she was so incensed that she'd actually throw a curse at him. "Probably not," he confessed, as the Ron in his mind ducked out of the way and the spell hit Neville instead. "Actually they'd probably use it as additional ammunition to hurl at one another," he confessed.

Look what you made me do? he heard Hermione's voice screech in his head.

I'm responsible for your bad aim now, am I? he heard Ron retort.

I do not have bad aim. You moved.



I'd have to be pretty thick to just stand there and let you curse me, now wouldn't I?



"Come on Harry," he heard Neville plead. "Just go up and check. If they look like they're going to be at it for a while, just grab my essay off the top of my bureau. Please."


....................

It took a couple of minutes, but eventually Harry gave in to Neville's request, albeit reluctantly, and the next thing he knew, he was ascending the stairwell to the boys' dorm.

This isn't good, Harry told himself, as he cautiously edged his way towards his own room and stood outside the closed door. He expected to hear angry shouts, or at the very least some muffled muttering, but even after he placed his ear against the door, he was met with silence. This is definitely not good, he thought, as he pulled away from the door and contemplated whether or not he should just go back downstairs.

They probably shielded the room so no one would hear them, Harry realized, but that knowledge didn't set his mind at ease. In fact, if anything it made him even more anxious. It wasn't that he simply didn't want to walk in on his two best friends when they were in the middle of a heated row. They argued so often that he was fairly indifferent to it most of the time. But this fight was different. For one thing, they were a couple now.

What if they're arguing about couple things? Harry wondered.

That would certainly explain their unexpected departure. It just wasn't like Ron to stop in the middle of an argument and take it somewhere else. When he was upset about something, everyone knew it. If he wanted to say something, he'd say it, without so much as a second thought about anyone else that happened to be in the vicinity to overhear him. Harry couldn't remember a time when he'd seen Ron postpone a fight until he found a private place to have it out.

The more he thought about it, the more Harry realized that he really didn't want to walk into the middle of this particular row. So he did the most logical thing he could think of; he knocked. It was only after the fact that he realized they wouldn't be able to hear him anymore than he could hear them. Not if the room was really shielded, which he was now fairly certain it was.

Oh well, he thought, reaching out for the doorknob and twisting it. I'll just give it a try and when it won't open, I can go back down and tell Neville that I couldn't get in.

The problem was that the door wasn't locked as he had expected it to be and when he turned the knob, it did open. The gap that resulted was just a few inches. Not enough to see into the room by any means, but it was enough to allow any sounds from within to filter into the hallway. The odd thing was, there was no sound. No shouting, no talking, nothing but silence.

Maybe he took her somewhere else, Harry thought, as he pushed the door open a little wider and peered into the room. But where? he wondered, as he slipped inside to retrieve Neville's assignment. There's nowhere else to go up here, unless he took her to the showers, he thought somewhat dryly.

Almost as soon as the thought entered his head, he heard it; a soft moan
coming from the direction of Ron's bed.

OH SHIT! Harry thought, his eyes becoming the size of galleons as he froze in place and tried to figure out what to do. His first instinct was to turn around and run out of the room as fast as he could, but if he did that, they were liable to hear him. His next thought was that he could probably sneak out the same way he'd snuck in, but that left the problem of what would happen if he went downstairs without Neville's paper? What if Seamus or even Neville decided to come up and get it? Shouldn't he at least warn his friends to lock
the door?

SHIT! he swore again, as he heard Ron mutter something he couldn't quite make out. Part of him expected his best friend to get up and catch him just standing there. Thankfully that didn't happen. Just get the damned essay and get out of here, Harry barked at himself, once he had resumed breathing. Unfortunately as he slowly inched his way towards Neville's bureau, he got a better view of Ron's bed, and despite the fact he tried not to look, he just couldn't help but not see them.

It wasn't as if he'd never seen a snogging couple before, but as he gaped at his best friends he realized there was a vast difference between a public snog, like the ones you encountered in the Common Room or Hogsmeade, and a private snog. The most obvious being the fact that they were lying down, although it appeared that they had started out sitting side by side on the edge of the bed, because one of Ron's feet was still dangling over the side.

The next thing Harry noticed was the fact that Hermione wasn't reclining beside Ron, she was sprawled out on top of him and she was making noises as she kissed him. Soft little moans that not only burned into his brain, but made his entire body heat up.

Cho didn't make sounds like that when we kissed, he reflected, as he watched one of Ron's hands slide down Hermione's back and come to rest on her bum.

You shouldn't be watching this, he told himself, as Ron's hand slipped down further and plunged under her skirt. Hermione whimpered softly, but continued to kiss him and then without warning, Ron rolled them both over. The instant he was on top of her, Ron entwined both of his hands with Hermione's, then pushed them up over her head, as his mouth came off of hers and fell to her neck.

STOP! Harry cried out in his mind, trying to force himself to look away and failing to do so. It was almost as if he'd been frozen in place, although whether it was from shock or horror, he wasn't exactly sure, because he was feeling a good deal of both, along with something else that freaked him out even more. He wasn't simply aghast at what he was witnessing, but at the way his own body was responding to it. JUST STOP LOOKING! he demanded and finally managed to clench his eyes closed.

But the damage had been done. Even with his eyes closed tightly, he could still see them in his mind. Not only that, he could hear them. Not just the soft moans they were currently making, but the sounds they had made before, in particular the way Hermione had whimpered when Ron touched her. That whimper just kept playing over and over in his head.

She's your friend, Harry scolded himself, as he slowly started backing towards the door. Stop thinking about her like that. Just stop it! You don't fancy her and you don't want to snog her.

But you would like to snog other girls like that, another voice responded in his head. A girl that isn't crying. One that will let you touch her and make sounds like that when you do.

But what if I'm rubbish at it? he asked himself. Maybe I really was doing it wrong and that's why Cho didn't react like Hermione is. OH GOD! I'm a bad kisser. What the hell am I supposed to do now?



Ron seems to know what he's doing, the other voice piped in. You can always ask him.



No, I can't. Maybe if he were with someone other than Hermione, but I don't want to know about the two of them...like that.



It's a little too late for that, seeing as how you've just seen them going at it.



I'll just go downstairs, find Ginny, and have her Obliviate me. Then it will be like it never happened.

Until you walk in on them again, he thought, as he took one final step backwards and collided with the door. DAMN! he swore silently, when he saw the flurry of movement across the room and Ron's head emerged from behind the curtains at the corner of his four poster bed.

"Harry?" he said, blushing deeply when he spotted his best friend standing by the door. "What are you...?"

"Sorry," Harry interrupted, his green eyes immediately dropping to the floor. "I didn't mean to... Neville just... well, he wanted to know how much longer you'd be. He needs his essay and...I didn't hear anything, and no one answered when I knocked, and the door was unlocked, so... er... sorry. I'll just grab his essay for him and get out of your way."

"No, wait," Hermione said, as she slipped around the opposite side of Ron's bed and came out where he could see her. "It's all right," she continued before he had a chance to protest. Had Harry looked up, he would have noticed the blush creeping across her cheeks as well, but as he could only bring himself to look at her feet, her embarrassment was lost on him. "We need to talk to you about something."

"What?" Ron cried in surprise. "Now?"

"Why not now? He's here and the room is shielded."

"But...," the redhead stammered.

"So," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably. "Um... you two are ok then?"

"Huh?" Ron asked, his ears still a deep shade of crimson, although the color was slowly draining out of his face. "Oh. Yeah, we're great."

"Shut the door, Harry," Hermione instructed. "There's something important Ron need to tell you."

"ME!" he shouted, as Harry closed the door, turned the lock, and looked at him curiously. "I'm not doing it."

"It was your idea," she shot back. "Besides, you know more about it than I do."

"I didn't even think that was possible," Ron snorted. "Can't we just give him that bloody book you found and be done with it?"

"Tell him," she insisted.

"Aw, come on Hermione," Ron pleaded. "Don't make me do it."

"It was your idea, now tell him."

"Tell me what?" Harry asked, finally bringing his eyes up and looking from one to the other uncertainly.

"Tell him!"

"BLOODY HELL!"


....................

"YOU'RE WHAT?" Harry cried in disbelief, as he goggled at both of his friends.

"Getting married," Hermione repeated, without so much as batting an eyelash. She'd watched Ron sidestep the issue as he fumbled his way through an explanation of the Lànain. But the longer he rambled on about bonding rituals and the spells protective aspects, the more confused Harry seemed to become, so in the end she cut him off and got right to the heart of the matter.

"MARRIED!" Harry shouted, gaping at Ron, whose entire face had flooded with color. "But... you've only been together for...How long have you been together again?" he asked uncertainly.

"Five years," Ron replied almost instantly, "Hermione reckons that first year doesn't really count, so..."

"Five years?" Harry echoed back, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Wait... wait, just slow down a minute," he continued, holding one hand out in the air and shaking his head as he tried to take it all in. "You haven't been together that long."

"It's been just under four months," Hermione corrected.

"You can't ask someone to marry you after being together for only four months," Harry said, more to himself than to anyone else in particular.

"Why the hell not?" Ron asked indignantly.

"Because it's... it's just not done."

"Well I did it, and she said yes, so we're getting married," the young redhead stated rather defiantly.

"But... this is insane," Harry said, disregarding Ron and focusing his attention on Hermione, who was the most logical person he knew.

"Ok, so it's a bit rash," she confessed.

"A bit?" Harry asked incredulously. "It's positively barking, Hermione. You, at least, must see that."

"Of course I do," she replied with a sigh, "but the thing is, I don't care. It just...it feels right. It's not just about the protection," she tried to explain. "I mean, that is a big part of it, but there is a lot more to it than that. I love him Harry," Hermione said, her cheeks flooding with color as she said those words out loud to someone else, "and he loves me. It's true that technically we've only been together for a couple of months, but the feelings
have been there for a really long time. This is something that we both want to do and we want you to be a part of it. It just... I know it's a bonding ritual and not a wedding, but you're our best friend and it just wouldn't be right if you weren't there."

"You won't have to do anything," Ron assured his stunned friend, as he walked over to his bedside table and snatched a thin red book off the top. "Like Hermione said, it's not like a wedding. You won't have to participate, or say anything, or get dressed up or anything like that. We don't really even need a witness for it to be legal, but ...uh... just think about it, all right? I mean the three of us have always been together for the important things, at least as much as we can be, and this is..."

"What he means is that it would mean a lot to us both if you were there," Hermione cut in.

"All right, that's enough," Ron said to his girlfriend, his assertiveness taking both her and Harry by surprise. "Can't you see we're overwhelming him?" he asked, as he pulled his homework out of the book in his hand. "Just back off and let him process it all before you start pressuring him for an answer."

"I wasn't going to..."

"Yes, you were," Ron stated flatly, as he held the book out for Harry to take. "Here, mate. This might help a bit," he said, as Harry slowly reached out and took the thin volume from him. "Hermione nicked it out of the Room of Requirement. Don't let anyone else see it though. Especially my sister. She'd go stark raving mad if she found out about this."

"Not that book," Hermione moaned, as Harry glanced down at the title. "You don't want to read that one," she said, trying to snatch it back. "It makes it sound vile."

"It is vile," Ron reminded her. "In it's traditional form anyway," he added. "Don't try and sugar coat it."

"But Ron, you haven't read that," she protested. "It's positively awful. It's all about how the Lànain has been used to enslave and control women for centu..."

"Harry knows that I would never take advantage of you like that," he said, cutting her off.

"But there are better books," she protested.

"This is the one you brought back," Ron retorted.

"I was upset. I didn't meant for it to be..."

"And you aren't upset now?" Harry asked, glancing down at the book he was holding again, before refocusing his attention on Hermione.

"No," she readily admitted.

"Why not?" Harry asked. "If what Ron said earlier is true, this is a pretty dodgy spell. I mean it's so loathsome that you're going to hide it from everyone else, including your parents."

"Especially my parents," Ron said with a shudder.

"And you don't even want me to read about it," Harry continued.

"I don't care if you read up on it, but that book is.... I just don't want you to get the wrong idea about it," Hermione replied. "Yes, the spell itself is... well let's face it, what it's traditionally used for is despicable. But that's not what we're doing. It's just that when you're reading about it, it's easy to get bogged down with the effects of the spell and why it was created. So much so that you tend to forget that the intent of the caster has as much, if not more, to do with the end results. And what we're going to do.... it isn't about ownership and control. Besides, we're both going to be doing it and the fact that Ron is willing to go that far just proves that his intentions are honorable."

"Stop," Ron protested, his face heating up yet again as she praised him. "Just let him read the book," he continued. "And you can give him any others you think might be helpful," he added, when Hermione looked like she was about to protest again. "And once you're finished," he said, turning his attention to Harry, "you can ask us anything you want. Ok?"

"Um... Yeah, all right," Harry agreed somewhat mechanically.

"Only, don't read that downstairs," Ron warned his best friend. "It's not something you want other people to see you with."

"Right," Harry replied, as he walked over to his trunk and stowed the book away for the time being.

"Have you finished that book on Occlumency I brought you yet?" Hermione asked, completely out of the blue

"Er..."

"Aw leave him alone," Ron moaned. "That can wait."

"No it can't," she retorted, placing her hands on her hips. "You really need to start working on that, you know?" she started in with her lecture. "And if the book isn't helping then you're just going to have to talk to Professor Snape, because..."

"Hermione," Ron tried to interrupt, when he saw the look on his best friend's face.

"...it's not something you can keep putting off."

"HERMIONE!"

"What?" she asked, spinning around and giving him an irritable look.

"Don't you think Harry should at least finish his homework first?" Ron asked, trying not to smirk.

"Oh. Well, of course he should," she admitted, her scowl becoming even more prominent because she knew what he'd just done and why. "But he still needs to..."

"But not right now," Ron interrupted. "Right now we need to finish our History of Magic essays," he said, waving the sheet of parchment he'd pulled from the book in the air as he started moving towards the door. "Come on, mate, we best get back to it."

"Yeah, right," Harry replied, as he stalked over to Neville's chest of drawers and snatched the essay he'd been sent to retrieve off the top.

"Are you going to help us or what?" Ron asked Hermione, as he and Harry stepped out into the hall.

"I'm not doing it for you, if that's what you mean," she retorted, rolling her eyes as she followed them back downstairs.

....................

"She isn't going to drop this whole Occlumency thing, you know?" Ron warned is best friend, as the two of them were getting ready for bed a few hours later. "The homework ploy put her off for now, but she's not going to forget about it."

"I know," Harry sighed, replaced his trousers with pajama bottoms.

"You did at least read the book, didn't you?" Ron questioned, as he climbed into bed.

"Parts of it," Harry admitted.

"I'd finish the rest if I were you," Ron replied, "before she gets it in her head to quiz you. Hey," he added, as a new idea dawned on him, "why don't you talk to Moody. He'll be back on Saturday for our detention. I bet he knows how to do it. Or even Tonks. She's an Auror too, plus she's here all the time and definitely on our side. I never did trust Snape. All that talk about relaxing and clearing your mind before bed. Sounds like the perfect way to open yourself up to You-Know-Who, if you ask me. Slimy two-faced git."

"Yeah, Tonks," Harry agreed, as he climbed into bed himself. Why didn't I think of that, he thought. Working with Tonks wouldn't be so bad, he quickly decided. She was nothing like Snape. She was friendly and approachable and had a wicked sense of humor. Merlin knows it'll be easier to open myself up to her. Yeah, that could definitely work. I'll tell Hermione that I'm almost finished with the book and that I'm planning on asking Tonks to help me. She can't very well object to that.



"So...uh..." Ron said rather uncomfortably from his bed, "is there ...uh... anything you want to ask me about, you know, what we talked about earlier?"

"Not really," Harry replied from the confines of his own bed. He'd spent the past few hours mulling it all over as he sat in a chair beside his friends in the Common Room, pretending to read his Charms book. But even now that the shock had worn off a bit, he still wasn't sure what he really thought of it all.

One the one hand, his friends seemed to be fairly sure about what they were doing. It still boggled his mind that they were willing to make such a lasting commitment to one another, especially so soon after getting together, but he reasoned the war and everything else going on had a lot to do with that. The primary reason Ron wanted to cast that specific spell in the first place was to protect Hermione, and he couldn't really find fault with that. In fact it was a bit of a relief knowing that he didn't have to worry about anyone harming her in that particular manner. Harry had never admitted it to anyone, but that
thought had crossed his mind when he'd learned that she'd been taken from Diagon Alley.

Of course the spell they were going to cast wasn't really a protection spell. In fact, the protective aspects were simply a side effect. In the end what they were really going to do was bind themselves to one another in such a manner that they'd be considered married in the Wizarding World.

They were getting married. His two best friends in the world were getting married. To each other. Not just to protect one another, but because they were in love.

In love. Every time Harry thought about that it made him queasy. He knew that they fancied one another. Actually he'd known that Ron had fancied Hermione for a long time, but when did it become more than that and how could they tell the difference? How did they know it was the real thing? How did they know it would last?

He'd fancied Cho for years before they actually got together and when they finally did, it had been an unmitigated disaster. His entire relationship with Cho, if you could even call it that, had been marred with one misunderstanding after another. None of their rows had ever been anything as vicious as the ones Ron and Hermione had, and yet the two of them always got past it. Not only did they get past it, they didn't seem to hold any resentment towards one another afterwards. Except for the infamous row over Scabbers during third year and the whole Viktor Krum thing, but even that had been forgiven eventually. He still didn't understand how they did it. How did they just let that stuff go? Why was it that they could fight non-stop for six years and become even closer where as his relationship fell apart after a few misunderstandings?

Obviously Cho hadn't been the right girl for him. Harry did understand that. When he looked back on it now he could even admit to himself that they really didn't have all that much to talk about, with the exception of Quidditch or Cedric, which he refused to discuss. How could he fancy a girl that was all wrong for him for so long whereas his best friend zeroed in on his perfect match straight away? How did he know that Hermione was the one?

It just didn't make any sense. It was insane really. No one found their true love at 11 or even 16. But almost as soon as that thought had occurred to him, he realized that it wasn't true. His own father had fancied his mother as early as 5th year. True they hadn't started dating until 7th year, but his dad had still known that his mum was the one for him and they had been married not long after they graduated. And they weren't the only ones to get married young. Maybe it was just more prevalent in the Wizarding World, but Ron's parents had been married within a year of graduating as well.

"Er...all right," Ron said, in response to Harry's remark. "I just... I thought you might be holding off until it was just the two of us or something. You know, because it's hard to talk openly in front of Hermione sometimes."

"So once you put that charm on her, she won't be able to take it off?" Harry asked, out of the blue.

"Not on her own, no," Ron admitted. "I have to do it, but I promised her that I would. If that's what she wants. All she has to do is ask me. I'd never force her to keep it on if it wasn't what she wanted."

"And if you do," Harry pressed on, "It's basically like you're divorcing her, right?"

"More or less."

"So you wouldn't be married anymore?" Harry asked from his bed.

"Technically we still would be," Ron replied, after a prolonged silence. "But only because I'll have a charm on as well. She'll have to take it off me, before the bond would be completely severed."

"Well that explains it then."

"Explains what?" Ron asked curiously, rolling over on his side and peering through the curtains at his best friend's bed.

"How you're going to keep this from your parents. I mean you can't take the charm off yourself, right? And your parents will definitely know what it is if they see it?"

"Er... yeah."

"And your brothers?"

"And Ginny," Ron added. "So what's your point?"

"Well, I can see how you're planning on hide it from them. You'll just have Hermione take it off you before you go home for Christmas and since her parents won't know what it is, she'll be able to keep hers on. But... what are you going to do in the mean time? I mean sooner or later someone is bound to see one of them. Neville is a pure-blood. Won't he notice yours?"

"I can shower in the Prefects' Bathroom, and I'll wait until he's not around or not paying attention before I change my clothes. Besides, I'm a bloke, and I've never heard of a bloke allowing a woman to bind him with the Lànain. Even if he did see the charm, that thought probably wouldn't occur to him," Ron explained.

"What about Hermione? Neville and Seamus might not pay very much attention if they caught a glimpse of the charm, but I wager Parvati and Lavender would. Hermione doesn't usually wear jewelry, so it'll stand out and draw their attention, won't it?"

"Naw," Ron said dismissively, as he moved down to the end of his bed, leaned over the side and popped the lid of his trunk. "I've got that covered," he added, as he pulled a small box out from under his jumpers, sat up, and tossed it onto Harry's bed.

"What's this?" Harry asked, as he reached for the box.

"Hermione's birthday present," Ron replied, as he watched his best friend remove the lid and pull a silver necklace out.

"This isn't..."

"No," Ron replied quickly. "That's your standard protection charm. Their complete rubbish, mind you. No one in their right mind actually believes they'll protect you from anything. But it looks a lot like the Lànain talisman, so I had George get me one from Diagon Alley. So I'll give that to Hermione on her birthday," he continued, "once the Common Room is nice and full, and everyone will see her put it on and know what it is. If those ditzy girls want to make a big deal about her wearing jewelry, they can do it then and get it out of their system. But the point is we'll be able to swap it later and they'll never even notice."

"What about your sister?" Harry asked. "You aren't lumping her in with the 'ditzy' girls are you, because I have a feeling she might be a little more observant."

"Eyes of a bloody hawk, that one," Ron groaned. "Yeah, Gin will be a problem. Hermione's just going to have to be extra careful around her. Good thing they don't share a room."

"Why don't you just tell her?" Harry asked

"Are you mental?" Ron exclaimed loudly. "Ginny might be little, but she's... well you've obviously never been cursed by her. Even the twins have enough sense to fear Ginny's wrath. Sure they tease her, but they always stop short of seriously hacking her off. There's no way we can tell Ginny about this. She'd bloody well maim me. Then she'd march up to the Owlery and send Pig straight to Mum, so she could come to Hogwarts and finish me off. OH GOD!" he moaned, "It would be a blood bath. I mean you've never really seen Mum when she's truly angry. If you thought that howler I got after we borrowed Dad's car was bad... it's nothing compared to the real thing."

"Maybe if you had Hermione explain it."

"NO! She won't listen to explanations, Harry," he shot back. "The only reason Hermione listened to my idea was because she's Muggle-born and didn't know what the Lànain was used for. She didn't have any preconceived notions to get over so she was willing to listen and actually think about it reasonably. Ginny won't do that. She'll think I was turning into some kind of smarmy Slytherin bastard and freak the hell out. No, we can't tell her."

"She won't hear it from me," Harry assured his agitated friend, "but I don't see how you're going to be able to keep it from her once you... well you know."

"We keep loads of things from Ginny."

"You mean we used to," Harry corrected. "Last year sorta changed that though, didn't it? I mean she knows about most of the things we've done and...well, pretty much everything," he continued, thinking about the prophecy, which he had revealed to Ginny over the summer and still hadn't told his best friends about.

"Yeah, well, she's not going to know about this," Ron grumbled, settling back down in his bed and covered himself up just as the door opened and Seamus and Neville entered the room. "Well, I'm knackered," he said, burrowing into his pillow and closing his eyes. "We can finish this conversation tomorrow," he whispered to Harry, knowing that he'd understand why he didn't want to discuss it any further tonight.

"Yeah," Harry replied, glancing at Seamus who was leaving a trail of clothing on the floor as he crossed the room to his own bed "Night mate."

"Night," Ron muttered, as he turned over on his side.