Disclaimer: No, I have not magically become J.K. Rowling since the last time I wrote.

I am so sorry for the delay. Normally, I'd respond to reviews here, but figure I should get on with the story. Thanks a million to everyone who reviewed! I love you all! Mille grazie! I will respond to your reviews in due time.

The fight is inspired by Nirvana-KC-LOVER's idea. THANK YOU!

Previously In Shade: "I want someone to look at me like that. Like my eyes hold the world," Ron murmured sleepily.

Hermione looked up at him with a drowsy smile, "Someone will," she yawned and closed her eyes. Ron gazed at her as if her smile was life itself.

Chapter 9 They Can't Take That Away From Me

The sun peeked out from behind the curtains of the window in Gryffindor boy's dorm. Harry pried himself out of bed and shook the remnants of drowsiness and dreams out of his head. As he dragged himself down to the common room, the raven-haired teen wondered what the day had in store for him.

He came upon a sight that brought a smile to his young lips. Hermione was curled up against Ron, her head in his lap. Ron had a long arm around her head and was smiling serenely. This stirred something buried in his heart, a sort of envy. He wanted that, that sort of bond. He pushed the funny feeling away and walked down to breakfast, leaving his two friends in their compromising position.

#&#

A pair of soft, slender hands slid over his emerald eyes. "Guess who-o," a honey-sweet voice sang softly, tickling Harry's ear. Harry didn't have to guess. He had heard her heels click when she had walked into the Great Hall.

"Celia," he mumbled through his breakfast.

Her hands drew away and the voice continued, "Why so glum, chum?"

Harry cringed, Celia frowned. She slid into the seat beside him, forcing a disgruntled Seamus to scoot over and a sleepy Dean to glare. Inspecting her glossy fingernails, she sighed and dropped her honey tone and sunny disposition. "Harry," she coaxed.

The weary looking boy started, "It's just…" What was he supposed to say? That this just didn't feel right? He didn't want to hurt her. He looked up and met her eyes. The gleamed back at his, tempting him with their icy depths. Suddenly, "right" didn't matter anymore. "Only your eyes…" he felt himself say breathlessly. Celia smiled, looking flattered, and oddly, proud.

Ron and Hermione walked in and sat down, farther apart than usual. They glared at her and drew Harry's attention away from her. Celia simpered back at them and her mind grumbled, the only obstacle left is them, just them. All she had to do was tear this little trio apart, limb from limb. Starting with the mudblood and the traitor.

#&#

Natalie McDonald was dashing through the crowd with increasing difficulty, when something sharp jabbed into her side. A strong arm pulled her into an empty classroom in the corridor. She was met by a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

"I have a favor to ask," a voice purred. The eyes twinkled again.

Natalie nodded vaguely. Twinkle, twinkle.

#&#

"We should tell him." Ron said suddenly, as he sat with Hermione poring over tomes about hypnosis, eyes, and the color blue in the common room.

"Tell whom what?" Hermione replied, absorbed in an old and dusty book.

"Harry. About… you know…" Ron mumbled.

"No." the bushy-haired girl sated sharply.

"Why?"

"You may have been raised without the movies, but I was."

"Hey," Ron defended, "I went to a film once… 'Bout some bugger and a dog or summat. Rubbish really."

Hermione sighed, "You are hopeless. Do you know what will happen if we tell Harry?"

"Dunno. 'E'll pat us on the back and say, 'Good call, mate, she had me there. I really appreciate it.' You know."

"Wrong! She's got him eating out of the palm of her hand! Do you think she'll just let him get away like that?" Ron opened his mouth to speak. "No, don't answer that. The thing is… He won't believe us. He'll say we're jumping to conclusions. We'll all have a row and he won't listen until it's too late. Friends and love can't mix."

Her words stung Ron's ears. "Well, if that's how you feel. Let's not bother him then." he replied stonily.

"Ron," Hermione said faintly, she had a feeling they weren't talking about Harry anymore.

They sat there in silence until Hermione muttered something about homework or feeding Crookshanks and stumbled off to her dorm.

#&#

Ron was moping in the common room when a small voice spoke in his ear. "Ronald," it whispered. Ron turned his head lazily. A girl a couple years below him was sitting next to him. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with quaint strands coming out.

"Erm… who are yo–" Ron began but was interrupted by a very surprising pair of lips. They were pressed against his and begging for more. They belonged to the strange brunette.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw a girl with wily hair. He gurgled and struggled against the young brunette's grip. She kept moving her lips against his. With a final shove, he was free. By then, Hermione was gone.

"Natalie," a huddle of girls giggled and the brunette skipped over to giggle with them, never giving Ron a second glance.

The blue-eyed boy didn't notice. He sat on his chair, distractedly picking at the threads in a pillow. All he saw was a pair of nut-brown eyes and a hurt gaze.

#&#

Hermione groaned into her pillow, tears threatening her eyes. It was one thing to see your best friend being kissed, but when you want to be the one kissing him…and worse, after they had fought! He was supposed to mope until she forgave him, not go off kissing random girls. But the big one, the real stinger, was the letter that lay crumpled on her bed sheets, delivered by a tiny owl two minutes before. She could remember every word.


Hermione– See, it even began coldly.

If you were Harry's true friend, you would want him to know. But, don't worry; no one needs to know about your folly. I have talked to both Celia and Harry, who are, in reality, perfectly fine. I would never have thought you would be the over-dramatic one. Conspiracy theories don't suit you. Fake dreams don't suit me. Yes, the dream wasn't real. This whole shit is fake. You are fake.

Sincerely,

Ronald Weasley

Now, Hermione wasn't stupid. She knew Ron didn't mean those things. They still hurt, of course. But this was the cold reality: Ron had been pulled under Celia's Spell. There was nothing she could do. She was all alone.

Ginny lay, forgotten and dreaming, in her dorm.

Ron was brooding in his bed with the curtains pulled tightly closed. That gaze, was so cold. He had brushed the taste of perfume and brown hair out of his mouth immediately and his tongue tingled from brushing for ten minutes straight. He wondered what Hermione was thinking right now. He fell asleep late, with her eyes on his mind.

#&#

Hermione wasn't talking to him again. It was worse this time. Not only was Harry off with Celia, but also the silence was filled with hurt and spite. It burned Ron's ears and left a nasty taste in his mouth.

But no matter, Celia was off their minds. The girl clicked her tongue in satisfaction, swished her sleek, inky hair, and inspected her fingernails again. She had gotten what she wanted. After all, she always did. The scheming teen cackled rather maliciously to herself and smiled, me: 1, them: 0.

In the Next Installment of Shade:

There is a place in all our hearts,

Where darkness dwells.

When bonds are broken into parts

Sound those sweet bells,

That bring us news of passing on,

And tell us when love comes anon.

They say that this love can conquer all,

Yet no one's prepared to take the fall.

These things are often true, they say,

But can't there be another way?

A/N: Expect the next chappie in a few days.

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