Welcome, welcome, to chapter 9... there are just a few little announcements I would like to make -

1. this chapter is more to do with Marguerite and also George Weasley, but nevertheless there is still some RonHermione in it

2. it has been brought to my attention that Luna Lovegood is indeed a Ravenclaw and not a Hufflepuff :( I apologise for this mistake and ask that we can just pretend she has always been a Hufflepuff and was only disguised as a Ravenclaw in all previous Harry Potter books :)

3. Cedric is alive because this fanfiction is not 'canon' (I hope that's the right term) and also because I need him to be alive for this all to work...

4. the 'joke' in the previous chapter was a play on words: "Right," said Fred - Right Said Fred had a hit ageeees ago with the song 'I'm too sexy for my shirt...' - yes, I know, not very funny, but oh well :)

disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter et al, but I do own a rather snazzy pair of green flipflops (if I do say so myself)


Marguerite Rodriguez was sitting alone in a dark corridor that faced out onto the courtyard. Her arms rested on her knees and her head hung downwards so that her bob of thick black hair formed straight black curtains obscuring most of her face. A few tears had fallen onto her long skirt and they glittered like stars before soaking into the material and becoming splodges of ink. She looked up at the archways and sniffed loudly. Cursing herself for not bringing any tissues, she held her head in her hands, and the great clock chimed eleven.

A little creature appeared at the end of the corridor. The creature's ears pricked up as it heard the girl crying and the saw the puddles her tears were making on the floor, so it tiptoed noiselessly towards her and began tugging on her skirt.

Marguerite raised her head.

"Dobby!"

"Please, Missus Rodriguez, Dobby couldn't help but notice you were sad. Please don't be angry with Dobby – Dobby was worried, Miss."

"It's ok Dobby. You wouldn't happen to have some tissues with you, would you?"

"No, Dobby is sorry," Dobby shook his head sadly, "Dobby only has the sheet he is wearing with him."

"Oh."

"But Dobby also has this with him Miss."

The house-elf reached behind a pillar and placed a large red object in front of him with a flourish.

"Dobby, this is a fire extinguisher."

She lifted it up towards the light and asked, "Where exactly did you get this?"

"Well you see my lady, Dobby was in London and he found the Ministry of Magic." Dobby puffed out his chest with pride, "But to get there, Dobby had to take 'The Underground' and he thought no-one would believe him so he took himself a souvenir."

Marguerite examined the large black letters on the side of the cylinder that said 'PROPERTY OF LONDON TRANSPORT: PENALTY FOR REMOVAL ₤300'. She tried to think of a kind way of breaking it to Dobby. She failed.

"Dobby – you're, well, not meant to take these from the trains, they're not free you see…"

"But Dobby is not a thief!"

"Yes…but…um…you've…uh…stolen it."

"Oh no! Bad Dobby! Dobby is a thief!" A large tear splashed to the floor next to the house elf's foot. Next thing Marguerite knew the fire extinguisher was being wrenched from her hands.

"BAD DOBBY! BAD DOBBY! STEALING IS BAD!"

"Dobby STOP! No! You'll knock yourself out!"

"DOBBY MUST BE PUNISHED!"

"The fire extinguisher might explode! Gah! DOBBY!"

Dobby stopped in the middle of bashing himself and looked up at her with wide green eyes. Marguerite took the opportunity to snatch the badly dented extinguisher from him and sighed heavily.

"Dobby, don't worry about it. When I go to Diagon Alley sometime I'll drop it off for you, alright?"

"Oh Miss Marguerite is so kind to Dobby, but Dobby must be going as he has work to do…" he tapped the side of his nose. "Very special work, so he must leave before he is too late."

The house-elf snapped his fingers and vanished. Marguerite clutched the fire extinguisher in her arms and burst into tears.

----------

"Marguerite, hey…what's wrong?" asked Draco, lowering himself to sit beside her. Marguerite mumbled something .

"What did you say? Um…here have a tissue…"

She blew her nose loudly and then repeated, "H-h-harry P-potter"

"Potter? What did he do to you? If he hurt you, I'll go get Zabini and we'll beat him up on your behalf. He didn't hit you – did he?"

She shook her head.

"Then?"

"H-he loves…he loves Ginny…not me…"

"Oh…Marguerite, I'm so sorry – if it makes you feel any better, he doesn't love me either."

"Yeah but you don't love him."

"True, but no-one likes being hated."

"I feel like such a fool to have even bothered with him – I should've noticed that he always looked at her differently to me. Always spoke to her first. Always blushed a little when she called his name. Oh god, I'm so stuuuupid…"

Draco draped an arm around her shoulders and handed her another tissue.

"You're not stupid, you donkey, you're one of the cleverest people I know, so don't you ever say you're stupid again. You're way too modest for your own good."

She raised her head and looked at him sarcastically. The effect was rather spoilt by her red-rimmed eyes.

"Merlin! How long have you been sitting here crying, Moodles?"

"You haven't called me Moodles since I was ten years old…" she said wistfully, "…do you remember? Your father strode up in a rage and told you off for fraternising with the 'filthy mudblood' children"

"I never saw you again until you arrived here as a scrawny little first year."

"I wasn't that scrawny, my little Pixie-legs – and anyway, I've grown."

Draco pouted, "I am not a pixie…"

He broke off as quick footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Marguerite! Why're you…did someone do something terrible? You've been crying!"

"Hello to you too, George."

"Shut up Blondie, the Slytherin common room is over there. Why not take a hint and go running over to your darling Zabini?"

Draco bristled. "Why not take a hint and shut up? Can't you see Moo– Marguerite is upset?"

"Yes I can see she is, and if you could just budge up, maybe I could sit down and find out why."

Draco rolled his eyes and shifted himself. Marguerite moved closer to Draco, and George wedged himself in between her and the door frame. He touched her face tenderly.

"Did Ginny make you cry?"

"Sort of," she mumbled.

George mouthed the word 'Harry?' at Draco, who nodded sadly.

"Love is a strange thing," commented George, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Oh yeah? And what would you know about it?" demanded Draco.

"More than you, for sure. Marguerite, why are you cuddling a fire extinguisher?"

The Gryffindor girl looked at the fire extinguisher in her arms as though she had just noticed it for the first time.

She sighed. "Long story. So…um…George…what exactly do you know about love?"

The red-head cracked his knuckles. "It's painful for one thing."

Marguerite nodded, her eyes watery, "Go on…"

"You know what, I think this calls for a drink – I'm definitely going to need one after this."

He brought out a bottle of firewhiskey from under his jumper and conjured three glasses. He poured a little whiskey into two of the glasses and poured half the bottle into his own. Draco and Marguerite took their glasses and waited while George sipped thoughtfully.

"Hmmm, better start at the beginning, I suppose…I came to Hogwarts years ago, with Fred, excited and naïve. I had never thought about girls…or love…or any of the other serious things like responsibility, schoolwork, exams…Me and Fred just wanted to pull as many pranks as possible, make as many people laugh as possible and just be the class clowns. And then suddenly, all that changed. Fred and I discovered the joys of Quidditch, and next minute we were playing next to girls – girls with boobies."

George chuckled softly, "And with the Quidditch also came the injuries, and so it happened that I ended up in the hospital wing after Cedric Diggory had knocked me off my broom. So there I was, lying on my own, lonely because Pomfrey had made all my friends leave, when who should enter but Cedric himself."

George took another gulp of firewhiskey before continuing, "He was older than me – still is in fact – but I found him intimidating. Tall, strong, fierce; scared the shit out of me during Quidditch matches, and yet, there he was, smiling apologetically, rambling on in his Scottish accent about how he hoped I was ok and there were no bones broken. And I couldn't help but like him. So after I recovered, I tried to get to know him better – see what this scary Hufflepuff – bit of a contradiction, but hey – was like underneath. I would go to the library and ask his opinions on pranks we were planning. He had a lot more knowledge of spellcraft than us, and he would help me to perfect the spells and charms. In return for his assistance, I persuaded Fred to let me show him some of the secret Hogwarts passages and chambers.

Then…then came a point when I would see him and we would just talk about anything and everything. If I saw him in the corridors I'd stop and chat. We'd wave to each other in the Great Hall, and sometimes even practise Quidditch together after class. It was strange that I didn't seem to notice. Fred, of all people, was the one who pointed out that I seemed to be falling in love. I thought he was joking."

George laughed to himself. "Perhaps it was just sheer denial. Maybe fear that Fred was right, but I couldn't admit to it.

I think I was in the fourth year and Ced in the fifth, and the summer holidays were looming. He asked me if I wanted to come and stay with him for a week. I didn't think Mum would be all that keen on me staying up in Scotland on my own, so I wrote a letter telling her I'd be staying with Lee, and not to wait for me at King's Cross with Fred. She said that would be fine and to behave myself - the usual. I was over the moon.

So I went to Cedric's house and met his Dad, and we mucked around, playing Quidditch…I think it was on the last night of my stay that he kissed me…"

Draco choked on his drink and Marguerite clapped him on the back irritably.

"Don't mind him George, just carry on."

"Yes. Well anyway, to cut an extraordinarily long story short, I kissed him back. We spent the rest of the holidays writing letters to each other, and when we returned to Hogwarts, I tried really hard to keep Fred from finding about the true nature of our friendship. Alas, he found out – twins being telepathic and all."

"Was he shocked?"

"Nah not really. He said he'd been expecting it to happen sooner or later."

"So what happened? I'm sure I've never seen you even glance at him before."

"Yeah, because even though I dearly love my family and friends, I'm not entirely sure they'd be that happy if they knew I was gay. And of course somehow that nosy git Percy found out. He can be alright I 'spose, but he's incredibly…err…homophobic. Basically he did a spot of blackmail. Either I break up with Ced, or Percy would make it his personal duty as Head Boy to inform both families – Weasley and Diggory, as well as making my life a personal hell too."

"Does Cedric know all that?"

"Nope. I…just…had to break it off. Couldn't risk it."

"You still love him don't you?"

"Of course I do. But I guess that's the way life goes eh? I envy my brothers, I really do. And Ginny."

"I envy Ginny too."

"I know."

"I used to envy Ron"

"You're still here Blondie? You used to envy Ron? You wanted to be a prat too?"

"Don't call me Blondie!" hissed Draco through gritted teeth, "And no, I didn't want to be a prat, I wanted to be the one Hermione loved."

George's jaw hit the ground.

"Wh-what?"

"Not anymore though. It's obvious he makes her happy, so I just accepted it. But it really did take a long time to get over it all."

"So that's why you insulted her so much."

"Oh shut up. I'm not proud of that, and you know it."

In the distance the clock chimed midnight.

George jumped up and dusted off his jeans, "Best get to bed people."

"But…" started Marguerite, "…I don't want to face Ginny. Not tonight."

Draco grabbed his friend's hands.

"She's still your friend. She's stood by you all this time, looked after you, stuck up for you. Even if Harry doesn't love you, she does, I do, George does…"

"And Fred," interrupted George.

"Yes, and Fred. Life goes on but we're still here for you – alright?"

Marguerite nodded and hugged him.

"That was beautiful," said George grinning, "Good luck Marguerite, I'm off…"

The Weasley boy strode off in the opposite direction and disappeared into the shadows.

"So," said Marguerite, picking up the fire extinguisher. "I guess it's time for bed then. Walk with me to the Gryffindor Tower?"

"Of course my sweet lady...so...what's the plan?" asked Draco.

They began to walk.

"Okay," whispered Marguerite. "It's quite simple really…"


George sat at the Gryffindor table idly playing with a piece of toast, while his twin gabbled on to Lee about some amazing girl he'd met in the holidays, and flicked cornflakes at a couple of passing first years.

George noticed that although Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione, his attention was being held by George's little sister. George quickly looked to where Marguerite was sitting, and saw her sipping tea serenely next to Hermione and another Gryffindor girl.

He noted that Hermione was talking Ron, and that both seemed to be on pins and needles around each other. Young love, he thought grumpily. And then he realised that they weren't the only ones who looked agitated. That Malfoy boy was sitting right in front of George's view, blocking out the other students with his back. His blond head completely obscured any fleeting glimpses that George had been hoping to catch of Cedric Diggory. The red-head grumbled to himself and tried to take a bite of his toast before realising he had crushed it to crumbs in his fist.

"God George!" exclaimed Lee, "Tense much?"

George glowered in reply, muttering under his breath. He watched Ginny flirt a little with Harry. For some reason he felt himself get even angrier. How could they be so oblivious to Marguerite's pain? He glanced up again at the black-haired girl who had been crying last night, but she was still sitting just as calmly as before. She noticed George staring and waved, smiling. Hmph, thought George, she doesn't look very anguished – maybe I'm just jealous because Harry will get his chance at love.

He grasped a fork and began mashing the toast crumbs into a fine powder. What a way to start the day…the only way it could possibly get worse would be if they suddenly announced a 'surprise ball'.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and the hall fell silent. "Students! As you may well know, tomorrow is Midsummer's Eve, and we have decided to grant all Hogwarts students permission to celebrate with an outdoor 'surprise ball'…"

"Ah, bollocks," muttered George, as the rest of the students reacted rather more enthusiastically.

"Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks…"

'That Malfoy boy' was now moon-walking backwards and forwards, blocking George's view of the Hufflepuff table perfectly.
Idiot, thought George. Maybe that's what you get for baring your soul to a Slytherin…

He buried his head in his arms.

"Oi!"

Someone was calling him.

"OIII!"

That was funny, George was sure he'd heard that voice before somewhere. Lilting, even when shouting at him…a voice with an accent…a…Scottish…accent…

George looked up into piercing grey-blue eyes. He gulped.

"Urm…Cedric…hi…"

The Gryffindor's eyes flitted quickly to the door and he tried to stand up, but found that someone had tied his legs to the bench. He glanced in panic to Marguerite, who feigned astonishment before breaking him into a grin and giving him a thumbs-up sign. Grrrr…

Cedric, who was sick of waiting for George to realise that trying to escape was hopeless, bashed the table with his fist – causing everyone, including George, to jump. He leaned in closer over the table at a stunned George and remarked, "You've been avoiding me, Weasley."

George opened his mouth to protest, but the Hufflepuff placed a finger on his lips to shush him and cradled George's chin in his palm, tilting the red-head's face upwards and forcing him to look into those grey eyes. All at once George found the other boy's lips on his own – kissing him almost violently. For a moment, George realised that everyone must be staring, and that somehow Percy would inevitably hear about this little 'incident'. But then he realised – he didn't actually care.

Eventually they broke apart. Marguerite and Malfoy were beaming from ear-to-ear. Ron had dropped his plate. Hermione looked speechless. Harry was wide-eyed, and Ginny…Ginny was mouthing "about time!" Malfoy began to applaud, and soon the Hall descended into whoops and wolf-whistles.

Fred patted his twin on the back, and sat down in front of Ron, who was looking more than a little shell-shocked.

"Hi Hermione!" said Fred, greeting her with a lip-sided smile, "You don't mind if I just ask Ron something do you?"

Hermione shrugged, "You want me to go?"

"No, no, no, you can listen too."

"Fred…he's…George is…" stammered Ron.

"Yes, yes – get over it. I have more important things to say: Ron, you are our littlest brother, and we all have a duty to do for you. Charlie's engaged, Bill is receiving Veela lurve, Percy and Pernickety Penny are loved up, George has finally got Cedric, I have my women…"

"George!" gasped Hermione.

"I jest, Miss Granger, well partly, but anyway…when are you and Hermione here going to get your act together, hmm?"

"Wh-what..?" spluttered Ron, his face taking on the pallor of a sunburnt tomato.

"…what...!" echoed Hermione.

"What?" asked Fred innocently, "I merely asked when you two are going to act together. You know – 'alas poor Yorick! I knew him well Horatio…'"

"Yorick? Isn't that like, some place, near London…"

"No Ronald," said Fred, slowly and clearly, " It's a line from a play, by Will-i-am Shake-speare. Can you say that? Shake-speeeare."

"It's a muggle play Ron – Hamlet."

"Yeah you see? You can just ask Hermione. She might also know something about Romeo and Juliet – though if Romeo was a thick as you, then in my opinion Juliet was better off dead. Though I'm sure Hermione wouldn't think so…" Fred wiggled his eyebrows at a flushing Hermione. "Anyways, see you…"

Fred leapt up and wandered off as the bell for classes began to ring. Hermione could've sworn she heard him reciting, "Oh Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" as he left.

Yes indeedy, thought Hermione as she scanned the emptying Hall for her favourite red-head, wherefore art thou Ronnio?


Ron was in the (out of order) Girl's Toilets, bashing his head on a nearby sink.

"Whyyyyyy can't I just tell herrrrr!" he shrieked.

Moaning Myrtle stuck her head out of the sink and screeched back, "Well she must be deaf if she couldn't hear that!" before disappearing down the plug hole with a loud splash.

Ron sat cross-legged on the floor, imagining the chastising he would receive from Hermione for skipping Transfiguration. He had to stop himself from laughing when he remembered the tongue-lashing she'd given Zabini the other day, when she'd discovered that the Slytherin had been bunking off Potions. Ron had been glad he hadn't been on the receiving end of Hermione's rant that day. Having said that though, for some reason their recent rows had been – how to put this – rather pleasurable for Ron. He could stare all he wanted, and several times this week, Hermione had been so infuriated that she'd literally back him into the wall, her hands pressing on his chest, pushing him across the room. He'd be lying if he didn't say that sometimes he deliberately started arguments just to see her hair fly around her face, and her eyes sparkle, and her jaw clench. And to see if she'd push him into another wall of course.

Maybe he'd pluck up the courage to ask her to this 'Midsummer's Eve Ball'. There was no way in Hell he would allow a repeat of the 'Krum Incident'. So he'd just have to summon up some of that famous Gryffindor bravery and ask her. Ask Hermione to the Ball. To the Ball…maybe she'd ask him instead?

Ron sat, lost in thoughts of overcoming his fear of rejection, when the door to the toilets opened slightly. He jolted out of his daydreams, heart thudding – what if that was Hermione on the other side of the door? But it could be Harry, he reasoned. Hermione, Harry, Hermione, Harry – what if it was someone else? They might think he was a pervert, hanging around toilets clearly designated for the opposite gender…

Harry peeked round the door. "Ron?"

"Oh thank heavens!" exclaimed Ron.

"Ron? Are you ok? What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Oh Harry…I'm so scared…"

"Why?"

"Hermione."

"Yes, well let me tell you – you are going to be in for one heck of a roasting when she finds out that you've been hiding in here all lesson."

"That's not quite what I meant…"

"Oh. Oh I see – you're going to ask her to the Ball?"

Ron nodded.

"Ah. Well good luck mate," said Harry, patting Ron on the shoulder and walking to the door.

"Harry? Where are you going?"

"Uh?"

"Don't leave meeee!" wailed Ron, clinging to Harry's leg.

Harry looked down at Ron, "She won't murder you or anything – in fact, I'm sure she'll say yes."

Ron looked up at Harry with puppy-dog eyes and tugged at his sleeve.

"What do you want me to do? Hold your hand?"

"No!"

"Then…what?"

"Just – you know – give me some advice and stuff. You have experience with these kinds of things."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, I've told you before, Cho was not exactly what you would called experience."

"Yes, but…you've got Ginny now haven't you?" said Ron slyly.

"WHAT? Who told you that? We're not even going out…"

"Oh, well in that case, I'll just tell Ginny you're not interested then…"

"No! I mean, um…"

"Right then. Give me some advice."

"Oh alright."

"That was just a guess by the way."

"What?"

"About you and Ginny."

"Ron! You little sneak…" exclaimed Harry, looking torn between laughter and fury. Ron wondered for a split-second if he'd gone too far, but then Harry burst into peals of laughter.

"So," said Harry, suddenly looking serious, "Hermione. What to do…what to do…Aha! I've got it my Weasley friend – here's what I think – a little something I like to call Operation Go-getta-Granger!"

"Go-getta-Granger," repeated Ron slowly.

"You don't like it?"

"I was thinking of something a little less in your face…"

"Operation Seize the Girl?"

"No."

"Operation Showdown?"

"No."

"Operation Marauders Mark 2?"

"No. Something less aggressive maybe."

"Operation My Little Pony."

"You know, that has a certain ring to it."

"You cannot be serious."

"But it sounds perfect."

"Ron, Operation My Little Pony only sounds perfect to a six year old girl with more pink glitter and fwuffy widdle hearts between her ears than brain cells."

"Does not"

"Does too"

"Does not"

"DOES TOO"

"I like ponies."

"Well if you must insist on that dreadful name – which I said as a joke – then don't be surprised to receive a ballerina costume for your birthday."

"OK FINE. What do we call it then?"

"Hmmm, how about Operation H?"

"Sounds ok, I suppose."

"You sure? You would've looked so sweet in a frilly pink tutu."

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Shut up."


"This is so not going to work," hissed Ron.

"Have faith Ron," replied Harry in a whisper, "Oh look – the red sparks have gone up – she's been spotted!"

The black-haired boy reached into his trouser pocket and brought out a small metallic object which he flipped open. He pointed his wand at it and muttered "Initiatus!"

He then proceeded to speak into it in a low voice.

"Hello Pineapple, do you read me? This is Code Red. I repeat, Code Red, on the Starboard Side." He paused.

"The Eagle is in flight, the Eagle is in flight, initiate the Quaffle…no Neville! Not literally! The Eagle has been sighted. I repeat again, initiate the Quaffle.

All systems go – the Carrot will be in motion on the count of three," he turned to Ron, "Ron – are you ready?"

"No…Harry – I really don't think this is going to…"

"Don't be a chicken Ron…2…1…" He gave Ron a shove, causing the red-head to trip out into the corridor from behind the statue.

Harry returned to his strange contraption.

"The Carrot has flown the breadbasket. Everything is in place. This is the Penguin, over and out."

He snapped the contraption shut and leaned back against a pillar, a small smile playing on his lips. The Plan was ready.


So here we are at the end of another chapter...merci beaucoup to all the wonderful reviewers who reviewed Chapter 8: weasleybabe24, rhinopants, Elena Carter and ballerinadoll9... thank you for all the feedback and pointing out of mistakes...

I would love to know what everyone made of this chapter, and I look forward to hearing your comments --- translation: please review :)

Until next time,
- die Libelle