Sorry it took so long for the update. I'm trying to get better. Hope you enjoy it!

Thanks for reading.

Potions was the first class of the day, and Ginny knew she could not afford to be even slightly late without losing points for Gryffindor. There were about fifteen minutes left until she needed to be in the Potions classroom – just enough time to hopefully catch Julian before he left for class. The pain in Harry's eyes as a result of the attack last night had gotten to her and she felt the need for Julian's gentlemanly comfort.

She was not expecting an owl to be perched on her bed, waiting. It had a scroll tied to its leg – fine grey parchment sealed with silver wax. The seal was in the shape of a small dragon, forcing her to double check that it was addressed to her. It was, so she broke the seal.

Dearest Ginny,

This morning as I gazed at the sunrise, I could not help but think of your incredible beauty. Your hair shines like the clouds in the morning sun, illuminating your alabaster skin with the light of heaven. Your eyes are like bronze, shining with the inner light of your extraordinary self. Ginny, you are the most stunning woman I have ever seen. Your mere presence lights my existence like nothing else in the world.

Please do me the honor of exchanging letters with me. For years I have admired you from afar, never daring to move too close to your glory. But I can help myself no longer. I cannot live without trying to get to know the incredible person that holds such beauty.

I await your response with fevered anticipation.

Your Secret Admirer

Ginny sat back in her seat, shocked. She shook her head at her wild speculations. Who could possibly be writing to her like this? Julian? As much as she wished it were he, it just was not his style. He was far more forward and gallant. He would simply present a scroll to her in some romantic style, assuming of course that he liked her as much as she liked him. It was very hard to tell, sometimes. But back to the letter. It was written in meticulously calligraphic letters, well suited to the flowery language used by its author. She carefully studied the letter, looking for clues indicating who might have sent it. Unfortunately, the only thing she found was a nametag on the owl: Icarus.

"Ginny?"

Hermione stood in the doorway, looking at her friend expectantly. "You remember we have class in five minutes, right?"

Ginny started. "Oh bugger! Uh, right! Just getting my books."

Hermione looked at her strangely. "What is that? And whose owl is that?"

"I don't know. I came back from breakfast and here it was. It brought me this letter."

"So why doesn't it leave?"

"I think it's waiting for a response."

"Well, it's going to be waiting for a while. We can't afford to be late."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, we certainly don't need to give Snape more reasons to deduct points from Gryffindor. You're going to have to wait, Icarus," she whispered. Grabbing her books, she followed the older girl to class.

They barely made it in time for the bell.

Ginny returned from class later that evening to discover Icarus still perched on her bed. She was relieved she had thought to bring him something to eat, and while she fed him, considered her next course of action. She talked with Julian right after class and managed to steer the conversation so that he confirmed to her he was not the one who sent the letter. She tried to ignore the sharp pain of disappointment, but in all honesty, she had expected it. Julian was nice, but he did not seem to possess the kind of audacity required to send such a letter.

She decided the only thing she could do was respond to it. If he replied, then things were about to get rather interesting; if not, then she could concentrate on getting Julian's attention. She thought she had it, but was not completely sure. Padma seemed pretty taken with the new Gryffindor heartthrob and he didn't seem too adverse to her interest. Leave it to her to be interested in a guy with a taste for annoying Ravenclaws.

Selecting her materials carefully, Ginny went through what was almost a ritual to prepare herself to write her first letter to the mysterious "Secret Admirer." The paper she chose was a tissue-thin parchment, pink, lightly sprayed with her favorite perfume. She read somewhere that it was a necessity when writing love letters. Opening the box of her calligraphy set – a Muggle device given to her by her grandmother years before – she selected an appropriate pen and began meticulously shaping the artful letters on the page. She composed the letter as she went, confident that it was better for her to write what she thought than to plan it out. Hermione was far better at that than her anyway.

Less than an hour later she finished and sat back to admire the end result. The calligraphy was beautiful; not as much as his, but she figured he used magic to write his letter. The wording was simple yet expressed her feelings. Knowing she shouldn't put it off any longer, she signed it with a flourish, and then looked around for something appropriate to seal it with. She finally settled on a red and gold ribbon she had saved from Christmas last year. Taking a deep breath, she tied it to Icarus' leg, and sent him off to his master with a treat.

Draco Malfoy looked up as an owl flew into his room. For a moment, he experienced a thrill of dread at the thought of another letter from his father, but then found himself relieved at the familiar sight of Icarus. Excitement pushed all thoughts of his father away. She had written back! He quickly retrieved the scroll from his new owl and gave him a treat for his patience. Hands shaking, he carefully unrolled the lightly scented scroll.

Dear Secret Admirer,

I wish I could respond in kind to the wonderful letter you sent, but without knowing who you are, I'm afraid I can't. Perhaps it would be better for us to meet somewhere and get to know each other better. Then we can start exchanging flowery letters like the one you sent. It was beautiful, I must say. I almost swooned reading it. You have a talent with words. Are you perhaps in Ravenclaw?

Please write back. I would definitely like to get to know you better.

Ginevra Weasley

Draco could hardly contain himself. She fell for it! He knew the first letter was a bit over the top, but he wanted to get her attention. Which he apparently did. He honestly thought she would send the letter back and tell him to bugger off or something. Pansy was right, all women are romantics, he thought. Perfect. He made a mental note to remember that for when he got married. It would be easier for him to get his way.

Now, what do I write next, he wondered. Draco pulled Pansy's book out from under his mattress and looked at the second letter. More of the same, he noticed. That won't do. She'll get bored and annoyed. So something of substance. Pulling out another sheet of the special vellum from his mother, Draco cast the calligraphy spell on his pen and began to write.

This letter was longer than the last, and was filled with a bit less fluff than the first. He could not risk making her bored or annoyed. Winning the bet was not going to be as easy as he thought, but he had to admit he enjoyed the challenge. The shameless flattery came easily to him, and he found himself embellishing a bit to increase the effect. He was looking forward to seeing Hadenthor's face crumble when he walked into the Ball with Ginny Weasley on his arm.

That reminded him. He would definitely need to take her shopping sometime. There was no way he was going to be seen with a girl in hand-me-down robes. Draco frowned. For her to be acceptable, she was going to need some serious work. That hadn't occurred to him until now. How was he going to get the girl presentable by the end of the year? His mind wandered back to the summer when he saw her and the Mudblood in Hathaway's. He saw how she enjoyed wearing the jewelry, which was fine but only about as much as his mother's casual collection. As much as he hated to admit it, the set looked good on her and she really did carry herself with a natural grace and poise very different from what one would expect of a Weasley.

Maybe it would not be so difficult after all.

Draco spent the rest of the evening making plans. A timeline for their meeting, ideas for trinkets to send as gifts, sketches of things to say in the letters – he had to be very careful he didn't reveal too much – and most importantly, plans for the dance. He needed to sweep her off her feet so that she did not lose interest or wander off to someone else. He was not sure how much of a stickler Hadenthor was going to be, so he wanted to make sure she stayed with him for the whole dance. He could always set up something for later.

As for the letters, he wanted hints here and there to point to him being in Slytherin, but nothing so obvious as to reveal his identity before it was time. She was going to have difficulty getting used to the idea of being attracted to a Slytherin, much less Draco Malfoy. Everything was contingent on her willingness to let the past be and take a step into the future without prejudice. Ironically enough, he figured Ginny was the only member of the great Gryffindors with that capability. Potter and his little sycophants would always be suspicious of him, but Ginny would give him the benefit of the doubt. That made her perfect. It was still going to be hard to get over her hatred of all things Malfoy. Bloody Lucius. Him and his damn diary. He had his work cut out for him.

The next day Draco sent the letter off to Ginny. He made sure to do it before they left for Hogsmeade, so she would have plenty of time to think about it during the day. At breakfast he tried to unobtrusively observe her to see if there was any change in her behaviour. To his disappointment, she seemed the same as ever. Icarus must not have gotten to her room before she left for the Great Hall. He frowned as something caught his eye. It looked as if she was flirting with that new Gryffindor bloke, Julius, or something like that. His eyes narrowed. Ginny was his. Admittedly, she did not know it yet, but no spineless little Gryffindor wanker was going to steal her away. He would win the bet no matter what it took.

Draco realized his plans were in jeopardy. That smug little bastard could destroy his chances with his friendly smile and sickeningly kind eyes. He had the urge to poke them out with his wand. He needed a plan and fast. One look at Blaise was all it took for him to decide his course of action. It would be perfect.

Ginny smiled as Julian went back to his seat. Ron was glowering, and looking around the hall, but for once she didn't care. Julian had finally asked her out! It was too bad Harry and Hermione had yet to make an appearance. She could not wait to tell her bushy-haired friend the news. Odd. There was something going on between Harry and his girlfriend. Both of them had been unusually quiet yesterday but she had been so absorbed in thinking about her secret admirer that she pushed the observation aside.

She needed to figure out what was going on.

Unfortunately, the fates were not cooperating with Ginny this morning so she was unable to question either of them before class. The couple arrived from different directions, which spoke louder than words about there being a problem. Ron seemed far too happy upon seeing it, which was a bit disturbing, and she noticed he placed himself firmly between the couple in Charms.

What the bloody hell was going on?

Determined to get to the bottom of her friends' strange behaviour, Ginny made sure she sat next to Hermione in their next class, glaring at Ron until he found a seat away from them. It seemed like Harry deliberately sat away from his girlfriend. Yes. There was definitely something wrong here.

The bell rang and Professor Spellsinger entered the class with her usual flair. Ginny often wondered if she did it purposefully to thumb her nose at Snape. It was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that the two professors did not get along.

"Good morning, everyone. I hope you have all had a good day thus far." The young professor turned to the chalkboard and flicked her wand.

They were all surprised at what was written there.

"The Power of Love?" wondered Malfoy aloud.

"Indeed, Mr. Malfoy. It is one of the most powerful forces in the universe." She smiled at the frankly skeptical looks her statement garnered. "I see I will need to do some convincing. Very well. Turn to page 257 of your texts and read the section entitled 'The Art of Emotive Magic'."

Even the skeptical students were curious and the class was silent for the next fifteen minutes while everyone read. Hermione had, of course, already read over the lesson and spent the short time reviewing. Ginny was finished well before the other students which gave her time to quickly pass Hermione a note while the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was not looking. They had to be careful since the woman seemed to possess a perception similar to Snape's.

H,

What's wrong with you and Harry?

G.

Hermione frowned and quickly glanced up to see if the professor was paying attention. She seemed to be absorbed in her reading, prompting the brown-haired girl to risk sending a reply.

Harry broke up with me for my own good.

What?

He thinks I'll be safer if we are not dating.

Idiot.

He's just trying to protect me.

Does he honestly think no one can tell how he feels about you?

I don't know. I think he probably does.

Idiot.

Ginny!

Tell me I'm wrong. I guess that's why Ron's so happy?

He agrees with Harry that the best way to keep me safe is to stay away.

I guess the fact that you're Muggle-born means nothing then.

I wish.

Both of them are idiots. Maybe we should…

"That will be enough of that, Miss Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor from both you and Miss Granger. I trust there will not be a repeat of this?"

"No, Professor."

"Good. Now," she said, looking around the classroom, "is it too much to hope that all of you have completed your reading? Mr. Longbottom, Miss Parkinson, you will have time to read the rest of the chapter later. Right now I would like all of you to listen."

Another flick of her wand cleared the board and left a piece of chalk hovering nearby. Notes appeared on the board as she spoke. "There are many different types of magic in this world, only a few of which are taught at Hogwarts. A number of them are very rare, but there is one that is almost fundamental to all other magic – that of emotion. The three Unforgivables: Imperious, Cruciatus, and the Killing Curse, all require a certain type of emotion to be present to actually work. That of hatred. One must have such a hatred for something or someone that you are willing to do anything to control, torment, or kill them. Few have the depth of anger and rage necessary to form even the basis for such dark emotions. For those who do, however, they possess a very formidable weapon against the light. Yes, Miss Patil?"

"Does that mean that the Death Eaters are going to win?"

Ryselle shook her head. "Not at all. Not all Death Eaters are capable of casting all three curses, and even those who are can be fought with the opposite of their dark emotions."

"Love?"

"Yes, Miss Brown, love."

"Wouldn't this lesson be more suited to Valentine's Day rather than some odd day in October?" Draco sneered as he asked the question.

"Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy, but why wait? If you like, you can pretend the classroom is decorated with your favorite Valentine's Day embellishments. Should I have a Valentine sent to you?"

The class laughed.

He flushed. "No, Professor, that's not necessary."

"I am so glad to hear that. Now, just like everyone has the capacity for great hatred within them, we also possess the ability for great love. Fortunately for us love is far more common than hate and because of that, someone like Voldemort will only ever be able to be victorious for a short time, if ever."

This time it was Thanos Acheron that caught the professor's attention with his derisive snort.

"You have a problem with this, Mr. Acheron?"

"I just think this is a waste of our time, Professor."

"I see. And why would that be, Mr. Acheron?"

He blinked, obviously not expecting her personal attention. "Uh, well, Professor, it just seems a bit hokey to me."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Harry would you please stand up a moment?"

Confused, Harry rose from his seat.

"I want you to watch something very carefully," the professor told the students. Pointing her wand at Harry, she said, "Illuminatus Protegus!"

A silver bolt of energy emerged from the teacher's wand and struck Harry in the chest, surprising him and the rest of the class. What surprised them even more was the white aura that appeared to absorb the bolt. Eyes wide, he looked in stunned disbelief at the professor.

"Behold, the power of love. What you just saw was the protective aura that surrounds Harry at all times as a result of his mother's sacrifice. She gave her life to save him, out of love, and that protection will remain with him forever." She looked around the classroom for volunteers. "Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps you would care to try?"

Looking around at his housemates, Draco sighed. Why the bloody hell was she picking on him? "Of course, Professor." He stood up.

"Brace yourself. Illuminatus Protegus!" The silver bolt struck Draco in the chest, pushing him back into his chair. It was clear to the entire class that the bolt was not absorbed by anything.

"Now, few people have the type of protection Harry does. In many ways they are very fortunate. The price is very high, so it is very rare. There are, however, other more common protections that can be produced through the power of love. Whether that love be for a parent, sibling, lover, friend, or spouse – it is one of the most powerful forces in the universe and should never be underestimated."

Ginny glanced over at Malfoy and could have swore she saw a watery sparkle in his eye. She could not blame him. Professor Spellsinger had meant no harm, but she just drove home the fact that he did not have the type of love Harry did. She almost felt sorry for him.

Ryselle turned to the chalkboard and gestured. "Some of the most powerful spells in history have been created through motivation resulting from love. There are legends that even speak of spells capable of crossing over to the other side." Ginny could swear she saw the professor hesitate. "But those are legends, and none of those spells have been seen in centuries. More recent spells, such as many of the spells protecting Hogwarts were inspired by the very emotions that many deride. Some of the most famous lovers in history are said to have used such spells to protect their loved ones. It is said King Arthur was protected in combat by a scabbard sewn for him by his Queen Guinevere. Lancelot was thought to be made invincible by his love for his king and queen…"

"But didn't Guinevere and Lancelot betray King Arthur?" one of the students asked timidly.

"Depending on the historical perspective, maybe. There are those that say the three were joined by bonds of love so closely they could not be separated. It was only after they were betrayed and forced to sever those bonds that Camelot fell. Unfortunately, we will never know. But all historians agree that there was some sort of special bond between the three that served Camelot well for many years."

"So is it possible to love more than one person?" The question came from Seamus.

"Well, Mr. Finnigan. You love your mother, correct?"

He nodded.

"Your father? Grandparents? Siblings?"

He nodded.

"And one day you will hopefully marry some nice girl and not reject all of them to be able to do so, is that correct?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I couldn't stop loving my family just because I fell in love with someone else."

"Thus you answer your own question. There are different types of love, my friends, and all of them are different. In most cases, romantic love does not allow us the freedom to be with more than one person. Hence the reason that most of us find a mate and stay with that person for the rest of our lives. But we have the capacity to love more than that one person. We simply choose to limit ourselves. In some areas of the world, men have twenty wives, all of which they love dearly. In most others, one. We are defined by our environment. And we make the choice to follow its traditions."

"Do Gypsies marry more than one person, Professor?" asked Ron.

"Very few, Ron. Gypsies typically mate for life. One person and no other for as long as they live."

"What if they die," asked Harry quietly.

A look of pain crossed Ryselle's face. "Then we wait to be reunited with them in the afterlife."

The raven-haired professor briskly took some scrolls off her desk and handed them out. "Now, I would like you to read this document on famous people and spells, and write me a two foot essay on how you think the power of love can or cannot affect magic. There is no correct answer here, I wish you to choose a position and defend it using what you have discovered in your studies."

The rest of the class passed quietly, but left Ginny wondering what the bloody hell Harry thought he was doing. Maybe their lesson today might get him to see reason. Considering how stubborn he was, however, probably not.

Bugger.

The next few days passed, and Draco decided to take some time to re-evaluate his plans and make some changes. Ginny had yet to respond to his letter. Her attention seemed taken up by that Gryffindor bloke, and he would not be able to do anything about it until the weekend. He had to admit he was enjoying the challenge of trying to figure out how to win the Weaselette over the annoying boy. He smirked every time he passed the sandy-haired Gryffindor in the halls, knowing that the girl he wanted would soon be his. He just needed to make a few arrangements this weekend, and his competition would soon disappear.

Draco arranged to meet with Blaise Zabini while they were in Hogsmeade during the weekend. The curiosity in her eyes assured him that she would be there, and knowing her, probably very amenable to his plans. Breakfast that morning was an exercise in observation. The more he watched the Gryffindor table, the more he determined his plan necessary for his success. That little Julius wanker was sitting entirely too close to Ginny and even the Weasel King seemed okay with it.

"Boy, Draco, that's too bad."

"What? What the bloody hell are you talking about, Hadenthor?"

"The Weaselette. She seems rather taken with that Aldread bloke. I guess you just got there too late. Or maybe you shouldn't have gotten her detention…"

"Bugger off, Hadenthor. I've got it under control. Aldread is not going to be a problem for much longer."

"Well that's good. I'd really hate to see you fail, Malfoy."

I'm sure. "I'll bear that in mind, Hadenthor. Merlin forbid I disappoint you."

Hadenthor flashed him and grin and then went back to flirting with one of the Slytherin fifth years. Bloody prat. Why did he agree to this stupid bet? Because it's better than trying to win back Pansy, his mind whispered. At least Weasley is somewhat attractive. For a poverty-stricken insult to Purebloods. The rest of breakfast was uneventful, and Draco left the hall deep in thought, his mind spinning about what he'd observed. Despite his hatred of the Aldread boy, he had to admit the Gryffindor seemed to know how to get Weas… Ginny's attention. Mental note, her favorite flowers appear to be orchids.

Draco was due to meet Blaise at The Three Broomsticks for lunch, so he had plenty of time to walk around, do some observing, and pick up a few things for future use. He had a few plans that were going to require supplies. The first thing he noticed was the way Weasley, whatever the youngest boy's name was, kept trying to walk between Potter and the Mudblood. What the bloody hell was his problem? Ginny seemed annoyed with him, but the majority of her attention was focused on the Gryffindor prat holding her hand. Oh yes. He definitely had to put a stop to that.

He followed them as they went to Zonko's Joke Shop to pick up something the Weasel boy apparently ordered, and then over to the Weasley's shop for a few more things and a chat. Draco lurked impatiently just inside the door, hidden by his Invisibility Cloak. While waiting for the Golden Trio and their little hangers-on to finish up, he looked around the store. He was impressed despite himself. Contrary to what most people thought, he actually was rather entertained by the Weasley twins. Their exit from Hogwart's had hacked him off at the time, but looking back now made him smirk at the dumbfounded look on that batty hag's face. They appeared to be doing well for themselves. Maybe he'd drop by and get something later. Snape would probably love to give Potter and Weasley detention for something not their fault.

Granger appeared rather impatient. She finally displayed that infamous Gryffindor backbone and told her companions that she was going to the bookstore down the street. He was surprised she lasted this long. Oddly enough, Potter gave the Aldread boy a significant look and the princely Gryffindor immediately suggested he accompany her. Perfect. With Aldread and Granger gone, all he needed to do was get Ginny's attention away from her brothers and perfect Potter. His chance came a short time later when the twins offered to show Potter and Weasley something that was apparently for guys only.

Smirking with glee, Draco quickly exited the store and pulled off the cloak. Thankfully no one saw him, not that they would say anything, and he sauntered into the shop. Ginny whirled around to see who was there and seemed shocked and extremely annoyed to see that it was he.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"Tut tut, Weasley. Surely your brothers wouldn't appreciate you driving away a prospective customer."

"They wouldn't care if that customer was you, Malfoy."

"Even if I was prepared to purchase a… significant number of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

Ginny gaped at him for a moment before responding. "I'll believe it when I see it, Malfoy. What do you want?"

"Goodness. Perhaps I should go and make sure everyone knows about the hospitality of the Weasleys' shop." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" He knew Ginny was not about to let her personal feelings cost her brothers business. "What products are you interested in, Malfoy?"

"What, no 'Mister'?"

"Don't push your luck."

He flashed her a smile. "I will endeavor to contain myself." A surge of satisfaction went through him as her lips twitched. Oh yes. Make a girl smile. Step one to getting her to fall head over heels in love with you. Go Draco. "It is my understanding your brothers have put together some sample packages. I would like to purchase the one with the greatest variety of merchandise."

"Are you sure? It's pretty expen… oh. Never mind."

He smirked. Impress her with wealth. Step two.

"I'll be right back, Malfoy. I need to ask George where they keep the crates."

Crate? "Fine, Weasley. I'll wait." He assumed a bored demeanor.

Several minutes later she was back with a small box about the size of a lunch basket. "Here you are, Malfoy. That will be fifteen Galleons."

Fifteen? "Here." Once the money exchanged hands she seemed far more relaxed. She was no doubt happy her brothers just made such a big sale. Perhaps it was that which prompted his next question. "Is it safe to assume you are busy for lunch?"

Ginny stared at him in shock. "Uh… yeah. Uh… thanks for asking, though."

What the hell was he thinking? "Uh… good. I will see you around, Weaselette."

"Yeah, right back at you, Ferret Face."

He had to get out of there. Obviously, something in that shop was affecting him. Draco strode out of the shop, appearing purposeful but in actually fleeing as if his hair was on fire. He quickly began moving from store to store, working his way through the long list of errands he brought with him. Lunch came far too quickly and with it the need to meet Blaise. If he wanted that Aldread boy away from Ginny, he had to talk with her. If he wanted Ginny to go with him to the ball, he had to make sure she never found out about his plan.

Back in the store, Ginny stared for a brief moment as Draco Malfoy left. Who would have ever guessed the Prince of Slytherin would grace her brothers' prank store with his illustrious presence? She needed to warn Harry and Ron about the git's purchase. Well, maybe just Harry. Ron was still being a prat. She was two seconds away from hexing him when the twins decided to take the boys in back. Lucky that. She had a new hex to try out and Malfoy was off-limits since he was shopping.

Ginny decided she had waited long enough for the boys to return. It was their store. They could suffer for their lack of attention. She was going to find Hermione and Julian. Not that it was hard. Hermione was across the street comfortably ensconced in one of the chairs looking over a tower of books while Julian waited patiently nearby. Her heart leapt as she saw he was writing something. Could she have been wrong? Is he her secret admirer?

"Hello, Ginny. I was wondering if you would be joining us." Julian carefully placed the papers in a folder and then turned his full attention to her. He flashed her a charming smile.

"Hey, Julian. I should have come with you from the start. Bloody bastards abandoned me almost as soon as you left."

"Oh dear. My apologies. I thought you might enjoy the opportunity to speak with your brothers."

Ah. That's why he left. "I appreciate the thought, Julian. No, the twins got excited about showing Harry and Ron some sort of 'guys only' prank. It's probably fairly wicked, but highly gross or embarrassing."

"They're probably planning to use it on you later," interjected Hermione.

"Not if they value their bits they won't."

Julian squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "That's a horrible threat to make, Ginny."

"Who said it was a threat?" The innocent eyes made it all seem far more horrifying. But Julian looked like he needed reassurance. "Oh don't worry, Julian. Your bits are safe as long as you don't participate."

"You have nothing to worry about on that account. I am most certainly not so foolish as to cross either of you."

Ginny grinned.

"Why don't the two of you go to Madame Puddifoot's, Ginny? I'll be fine here."

Julian shook his head. "I would love to, Hermione, but I promised Harry I would not let you alone."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. I'll be fine, Julian. I'm in a bookstore. Go. Have fun with Ginny."

"Hermione, I cannot in good conscience leave you here by yourself."

"Then I will remain with her."

The startled students whirled to see Professor Spellsinger standing nearby, a pile of books in her arms. "I am planning to be here for a time. It will not be an inconvenience." She smiled at Julian. "I believe I am at least somewhat capable of protecting Hermione, should she need it."

"Uh, of course, Professor! Thank you." Ginny's face lit up at the Gypsy's presence. It was a perfect solution. "Come on, Julian!"

The two students hurried off, leaving Hermione and Ryselle to read in silence. Hermione was grateful to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for making her presence known. She knew Ginny and Julian wanted some time alone together that did not involve hiding from her brother or supervised visits in the common room. Ron's devotion to guarding her virtue would have been funny if it was not so bloody annoying. Ginny was getting frustrated to the point of nearly hexing her brother, and today had simply been an exercise in hacking everyone off. Ron spent his time placing himself between Harry and herself, but was also trying to watch over Julian and his sister. She sighed. Why was he being such a prat? Sure he liked her, but he was well aware that she was in love with Harry. Why was he jealous? Nothing was going to happen between her and Harry until Voldemort was destroyed anyway. Why couldn't he just move on to someone that actually liked him? Like Luna.

Life was too bloody complicated.

"He will come to terms with it, Hermione. Give him time."

Hermione was startled. Was she being that obvious? "What, Professor?"

"Mr. Weasley. He needs some time to get over what he believes is love. He will learn in time. It is always hardest the first time around."

"Uh, thanks, Professor. Er… why do you say that?"

"It is quite obvious to anyone that knows how to look, Hermione. He is not being subtle with his jealousy, nor is he making secret the fact that he desires you."

"Yeah. Because Harry does."

"I do not believe that is all there is to it, but I can see your point. Perhaps he merely needs to find another to take his attention."

Hermione sniffed with disdain. "He would move on without a thought, wouldn't he?"

"Do you not wish that?"

"Well of course I do! I just…"

"It is flattering to be loved in such a way, is it not? Especially when the object of your devotion is not willing to make a commitment."

"Yeah." Hermione thought for a moment before eying her professor curiously. "Professor. May I ask you a question?"

"You may ask anything you like. I will not promise to answer it, however."

"Did you ever have to go through this?" It occurred to Hermione that the young teacher might have some insight for her, especially considering her apparent age. Professor McGonagall was far older than her and no doubt did not have the same understanding of relationships. It was more comfortable to speak with the younger professor.

"Not exactly," said Ryselle hesitantly. "I… my experience was different, but in some ways similar."

"What happened?"

"I loved him but he did not feel the same way. We were friends and I was too afraid to tell him how I felt." She looked away, but not before Hermione saw the tears. "Then he died."

Hermione flashed back to their recent class on the power of love. "Oh bloody… I'm sorry, Professor! I didn't mean to…"

"That is alright, Hermione. I do not mind. I understand your difficulty." Ryselle turned back to face Hermione. "Think on this. Now Harry at least knows how you feel. That is far more important that you may ever know. He returns your affection but wishes to protect you, correct?" The bushy haired Gryffindor nodded. "Take comfort in that. One day he will discover that you are his greatest salvation. Then he will return to you."

Hope surged within Hermione at the words. "I dearly hope so, Professor."

"Have faith, Hermione. Love will find a way."

"'Mione! Look what we got!" Harry and Ron strode excitedly to the table and each dumped an armful of candy on the surface. "Fred and George gave these to us! Isn't it great?"

Hermione frowned. "Ronald. It's not 'great'. You're a Prefect, for Merlin's sake. We are not taking these back to Hogwarts with us."

"But 'Mione…" Ron whined.

"Don't call me that! And don't think you're going to successfully beg me to allow this."

"But they…"

"Ron…"

"… are an experiment! They're Transfiguration Toffees. It's bloody brilliant!"

"Ron…" Harry tried again to get his friend's attention. It was obvious the excited Gryffindor was paying little attention to what, or more importantly who, was around. Meanwhile, their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked on in amusement.

"This one right here. The ones with the red wrapper will transform the person eating it into a gnome!" He picked up a brown one. "This will change them into a house-elf. This one…"

Hermione's face flushed in anger. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! How could you? That's horrible! Do you know what kind of indignities house-elves face on a daily basis? Changing a person into one for a joke makes a mockery of their sad little lives! I…"

"Oh bloody hell, Hermione. Give up on that stupid lecture of yours. I refuse to join your stupid crusade to help the ruddy creatures gain a freedom they don't want! Do you know what they used to do with your hats last year?"

"Ron…" Harry warned.

"What?"

"Dobby threw them away! They refused to go inside the tower because they were afraid of finding one of your stupid, ugly hats! They didn't want your stupid cause, Hermione! They like things the way they are!"

"Not all of them, Ron! I just feel they should have the freedom to choose!"

"S.P.E.W," he mimicked, "is a Very Important Organization dedicated to the freedom of house-elves everywhere." He glared at her. "Never mind the fact that we need them to work for us…"

"Which is why they should be paid!"

"…and that our society would be forced to severely change if they were suddenly let go to wander about on their own. Would you be the one doing the work of house-elves if they were freed?"

"Compensation, Ronald, and the choice of whom they serve are the least they deserve for their place in our society. What they have now is slavery!"

"It's what they want! It's what they need. House-elves need to belong to someone. Look at Dobby. He's only happy when he's serving someone."

"Not the Malfoys!"

"Oh bloody hell, Hermione! Get off it already. You're not from the Wizarding world. You can't possibly understand! Ugh!" He threw his arms up in disgust.

"Maybe not, Ron, but I know injustice when I see it. At least I don't put on blinders and ignore the fact that an entire race of people is being enslaved by another. There should be laws against that."

"I think I'm going to spew," muttered Ron.

"What did you say?"

"Spew! I said I think I'm going to spew. You know, S-P-E-W. This whole conversation makes me sick! You can't bring your bloody Muggle attitudes into the Wizarding world and expect us all to change just to suit their stupid ideals."

"Stupid?"

Harry winced at the sharp tone of Hermione's voice. This needed to stop.

"Ronald Weasley!"

"What, Harry?"

"I think you've said enough."

"I haven't said nearly…"

Ryselle stood up, startling Ron into silence. "Actually, Mr. Weasley, I do believe you have said plenty. I must admit you have a rather interesting perspective on house-elves, but that is for another time. These," she said, gesturing at the candy, "are something for this moment. I believe I will take them back and lock them away until the holiday. And I must warn you that if I find a single one of these at Hogwarts, you will be given detention."

"But…"

"Feel fortunate I am not of a mind to take points." She gestured and the candies gathered themselves into a pile and jumped into her handbag. "I would suggest you learn to moderate your impulses if you wish to avoid further punishment. Good day, my friends." In a flurry of violet robes she was gone, leaving a smirking Hermione, surprised Harry, and stunned Ron in her wake.

"Well. I guess that takes care of that."

"Bugger off, Hermione!" Ron shouted and then stormed out of the bookstore.

"Honestly!" Hermione sniffed, rolling her eyes at the red-haired boy's behaviour. "Why does he have to be so immature?"

Harry was silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Er…"

"Don't say it, Harry. I know. Ron has a point about the house-elves not wanting freedom and I should not force it on them." She looked at him. "I've been studying history, you know. You can't free a people that are not willing to fight for it. Ron will be happy to know that S.P.E.W. is no longer in operation."

He was rooted to the floor in shock. "You're giving up?"

"No!" Hermione's eyes flashed with indignation. "I'm not giving up. I'm just going to be a bit less forceful about it. I've asked Dobby to make it known that if a house-elf desires freedom then I will do everything in my power to make sure they get it. But I am still working toward fair wages. I just… it's a back issue until we take care of other things."

Harry nodded. Voldemort was a bit of a larger issue than house-elf fair wages. Still, he would bet his Firebolt that Hermione had at least one knitted hat concealed somewhere on her person, just in case. Hmmm. Maybe he should carry one around too. That way he would not have to lose another sock. Hermione was seated back at the table, perusing the large tome in front of her. He couldn't tell what it was, but it looked like she was reading a history book. History?

"What are you doing, 'Mione?" Ooh. Maybe he should not have called her that.

"Reading about the Sidhe."

"The… what?"

"Sidhe. They are typically referred to as elves in fairy tales."

"Oh." He hesitated, waiting for her to continue but she just sat there reading. "Er… why are you reading about them?"

"I talked to a friend of mine in France this summer. He said the Sidhe are real and that I'd probably be interested in the actual history."

Harry involuntarily fought down a surge of jealousy. He? Who the hell was "he"? "Ah. I see."

Hermione read for a few moments more before spearing Harry with her eyes. "What?"

"Huh?"

"What do you want, Harry? I'm trying to read and having you sit there staring at me is rather distracting."

Tell me about it, he thought. "Er… uh… I was… uh… trying to figure out something to read."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Really, Harry. You don't need to hover over me like I'm a child that needs minding. Go do whatever it is you want!"

I wish I could, Harry thought. The image of them snogging in the Astronomy Tower appeared in his head. Augh! "Uh… well, 'Mione, I… uh… missed you this summer and was hoping to spend some time with you." Hopefully that didn't sound too pathetic.

She blushed. "Oh… um… I'm sorry, Harry. I… well… Ron said… I just… had to go."

"I know, 'Mione. I don't blame you. He was a bit of a prat. I just wish you had at least said goodbye."

"Oh Harry! I'm so sorry! I wasn't… I didn't… think…"

"It's okay, 'Mione. I'm okay." He gave her a sly smirk. "I'll be even better if you come over here and give me a hug, though."

Her heart leapt at the suggestion and in an instant she was enfolded in his arms. This was why she wanted to be with him. Something about being in his presence, in his embrace made her feel safe, loved, and complete like nothing else she could imagine. It was with great reluctance that she let him push her back to a safe distance.

"Uh… I hope you don't mind," Harry stammered. "I just…"

"Shhh. I know, Harry. It's okay. You remember that I love you, right?"

He nodded.

"Then you have my permission to hug me whenever you want."

He grinned. "I'll probably be taking you up on that, Miss Granger."

"It would be my pleasure to oblige, Mr. Potter."

Draco Malfoy, meanwhile, was waiting impatiently in The Three Broomsticks for Blaise to grace him with her presence. It was several minutes past the time of their meeting, but she had yet to make an appearance. He knew it was her not-so-subtle way of telling him that she was doing him a favor by meeting him. Bloody hell. This was going to cost him.

"Hi Draco."

"Blaise." The dark-haired Slytherin sauntered over and joined Draco at his table.

"Butterbeer?"

"Thanks."

Blaise took a long swig of her butterbeer before she focused a sharp eye on Draco and came straight to the point. "What do you want, Draco?"

This was why he liked working with her. She was a total professional. "I need a favor, Blaise."

"I'm listening."

"I need you to… seduce a certain Gryffindor away from his red-headed Weasel."

A quick flash of emotion crossed her face. "I imagine you're talking about the Weasley girl and the pathetic sod she seems to have roped in?"

"Correct."

"And what do I get out of this little… joy?"

"You mean aside from the pleasure of knowing that you are furthering the plans of my father and his Master?"

"Cut the crap, Malfoy. You know I don't care about that. The winning side is the only right side. Now what are you offering?"

"What do you want?"

"That's not how this works. Make an offer or I walk and you can get Parkinson to try and woo the brainless wonder."

Bugger. He knew exactly what she wanted, but hoped he could get away with far less. Ah well. He chose Blaise for a reason. "All right, Blaise. I'm prepared to make your dreams come true. I'm willing to have a bit of a chat with Goyle senior about his son's suit for your hand. I have no doubt he will understand the implications of my displeasure when all Malfoy assets are restored to their… independent status should he continue to insist."

"And I want an offer from Adrian Pucey."

"What?" He wasn't expecting that.

"If I lose Goyle's offer my father will immediately try and get me tied to Crabbe or someone else equally noxious. I can deal with Adrian. Especially if the stories about his… extracurricular skills are true."

He thought about it for a moment, and then carefully controlled the grin that threatened to break out on his face. Pucey was looking for a potential bride and the Zabinis were a well-established pure-blood family. He'd been interested in Blaise for a while now, but her father's support of the Goyles made a suit impossible.

Perhaps he could get two favors for the price of one.

"Let's compromise. I'll talk with him and try my best to sell him on the idea. Wear that uniform shirt you shrunk to get my attention last year to class Monday. It'll get him thinking in the right direction. You seduce the Aldread boy and I'll make sure Pucey gets jealous. As soon as the Weaselette dumps Aldread, you can dump him and let Pucey rescue you from that caddish Gryffindor."

Blaise eyed him, considering. Finally with a grin, she held out her hand. "Deal."

He smirked. Perfect.