Posted 1/25/2014, slight edits 12/9/2015

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I know some people will not like the chapter, especially those who dislike info dumps. As the title suggests, it is mostly getting Hermione up to speed on the contract. Doing that in a summary would not fit her character, as she will probably have something to say about it, and interrupting a summary with questions about details would require writing the details in the summary, making it less like one in the first place. Leaving it up for the imagination might have worked, but since there was also another issue to be dealt with, namely, Hermione's vision of Harry's future with Ginny, you get this chapter. Everyone wanting to skip it is free to do so. Nethertheless, I apologize in advance for this chapter.

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This is a work of fiction, based on the book series by J.K. Rowling. Neither do I claim ownership nor do I intend to.


Chapter Eighteen - Of Love and Contracts

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Neville closed the book. "All right, that's that. Why did I let myself get talked into Charms?"

"Flitwick is nice?" Harry offered with a shrug.

"I had thought it would be possible, that I might manage, but just look at what we are dealing with. Half the time, I don't have any idea what I'm doing. With the way things are going... I'm just happy I dropped Defence. No more Professor Snape." He smiled lightly, lost in his thought for a moment.

Ron grunted. "Should have done that, too, but no! Why did I continue it?"

"Because you didn't want to leave your friends at the mercy of a cranky crook?" Harry offered. "Really, Neville, you should be ashamed of yourself, now that you are gone, I have all his hate just for me. I feel really greedy, having no one to share it with."

Neville shrugged. "I can live with being a terrible friend as long as I don't have to endure him any longer."

Shaking his head, Ron narrowed his eyes. "Well, you're lucky you have a subject you love. The time you save with Herbology you can use for the rest. Me? Not so lucky."

"I put in more time for that subject than the rest of you, even Hermione. Anyway, Herbology isn't that hard, Ron," Neville told him. "Most of the time, it is knowing what to give them, when to prune and what to look out for. And don't forget, most plants are part of some family so they aren't as random as you'd think. See, here," he pointed at a paragraph in Ron's homework, "you mixed up the sun-loving..."

"Don't care, Neville," Ron said with a yawn. "It simply fit well with Potions of which I still don't know why I continued it. Potions, Herbology, Defence with Snape... Transfiguration. Why did I continue those?"

"Because your timetable would have been very empty if you hadn't," Harry said indifferently. "And don't forget, you are doing reasonably well in Charms, that has to count for something."

"If I had nothing else to do, yeah, I'd be good, but with all this other stuff... and Quidditch, you know, it does take up more time than I had thought."

Laughing, Neville shook his head. "You've seen Harry do it year after year after year and you hadn't guessed?"

"Well, Harry does schedule a lot of practices."

"Less than Angelina," Harry pointed out. "And less than Wood as well. But you are right in a way. Had I known how much time the Captaincy would cost me, I would have refused."

"But... Harry!" Ron protested. "You are the best player we have! Apart from Katie, no one has been longer on the team! You are the best choice for Captain!"

"And I won't be here forever. Have you noticed how I have been taking Coote on the side occasionally?"

"I thought you had him do something," Ron wondered. "You want him to be Captain? What about Ginny?"

"She's a year behind us. She'd have one, maybe two years of Captaincy. I thought about recruiting someone really young, but... bad turnout for that, sadly."

"Since the try-outs? You've been thinking about that since the try-outs?" Ron stared at his best friend in disbelief. "Why didn't you say so? Why am I hearing about it for the first time months after the fact?"

"I do have a responsibility to the team, don't I? But no, I really thought about it since the end of November. There's just too much to do, and it keeps piling up. My little side projects, classes, detentions, Quidditch –"

"Greengrass," Ron added with a frown.

Harry rolled with his eyes. It was an accomplishment for him to have said her name, the first time since late December if Harry remembered correctly. And even though he knew why and could understand the redhead's reluctance, as far as he knew Harry hadn't had a choice in the matter. Shouldn't he be more supportive? And there was another matter. Yes, it had killed any holiday spirit or joy, but Harry really wasn't that obnoxious about her and hadn't talked about her in Ron's presence more than necessary.

Before he could speak up, another voice did, and one Harry had wanted to hear all evening. "What about Greengrass?" Hermione asked, stepping up to them. She held a book and some of her notes in her arms.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled in surprise. Some looked over, most didn't. Their corner was secluded enough to stay out of their hair, something Harry liked a lot. It allowed them to have private conversations without feeling as if they were hiding something.

Neville sent Hermione a smile and a nod.

"I hadn't noticed you," Harry told her, collecting some parchment and books to make a bit of room. She looked like normal to the inattentive observer, but he could see the red in the corner of her eye as well. "Are you alright?" he whispered, bent just right to block out the other boys. He wanted to leave her the choice of talking or not.

She smiled sadly at him. "I'll be fine. Just..." She broke off, shaking her head. "I missed you, all of you. And I couldn't hide any longer, not if there's work to do. Without my help, how are you meant to pass your tests?" She sat down in the free space. "But you haven't answered my question. What about Greengrass?"

Neville blinked. Ron bit his lip. Great friend, bringing it up but not daring to tell the whole story, Harry thought wryly. Well, it was his story, after all, and he had to tell her sometime anyway, even if he had put it off for quite some time. He threw up some privacy wards and was delighted to see Ron adding some of his own. Happy with the rudimentary work, Harry started wringing his hands.

"Well, that's something I should have mentioned already, but didn't find the right moment for it. Greengrass –Daphne, that is –and I are kind of..."

"What?" Hermione interrupted, and Harry was thankful for it. He knew how he would have to finish the sentence, but he didn't want to say it, least of all to Hermione. How could he tell her he was engaged? She wouldn't take it lightly, and she wouldn't accept it without comment.

She stared at him. "You and... Greengrass? Daphne Greengrass? From Slytherin? How did that happen? Since when?"

"Well, it's since Christmas, I guess," Harry replied, careful to keep himself from sweating. While not the whole truth, it was also not a complete lie. Before Christmas, Harry had conspired with the girl, he had met her, yes, but they hadn't been connected in any way. So, yes, Christmas was a truth, at least. He was about to reveal the engagement when she spoke up again.

"But that is... ah, that explains a lot," she sighed, nodding. "So that's what happened. Ah, too bad. Well, you are still young, I guess, so it doesn't matter all that much. You still have time."

"Only a year younger than you, Hermione," Harry told her. "And what was that supposed to mean anyway? Why would it not matter due to my age? What's my age got to do with anything?"

"Oh, well, I mean, she is... I guess, she is... err..."

"You don't like her," Neville said with a smile.

"It's not... not like that. Honestly! It's just... shocking, that's all. I mean, I hardly know her, but she is... err... well, yes. It's just, I have always thought, you know, you and Ginny..." Hermione told Harry, shrugging half-heartedly. "But that explains why Ginny didn't go over her essay with you over the holidays. You were busy, then? Well, I didn't mean with Greengrass, as in, busy the way teenagers are, but..."

"Wait," Harry interrupted, throwing up his hands. "Me and Ginny?" His voice rose in disbelieve. "Ginny? Ron's little sister Ginny?"

Neville started laughing.

"Well yes," Hermione replied with a wave of her hand, "who else? I mean, not yet, necessarily, but then, you are still young and have a lot to learn so I guess Greengrass might give you some experience for when you are ready for something more serious." Hermione told him with a wave of her hand. "But still... Greengrass, that is a shock –surprise! It's a surprise, I wasn't aware you even knew her name."

"Ignoring that I do know her name –we were in Potions for years, it shouldn't be that surprising I know who is in class with me –and that you just dismissed... doesn't matter." Harry shook his head in disbelief. "'Well yes, who else?' Who else, Hermione? How about every girl on Earth? Why would I date Ginny specifically? Whatever gave you the idea that it'd be her out of the dozens our age at school alone?"

Neville fought to regain his control. Ron stared off uncomfortably, torn between two or more conflicting interests.

Raising an eyebrow, Hermione looked at her best friends in turn. "Yes. Who else? Why would you care about any girl on Earth, anyway? It's obvious you two would fit well together; anyone can see that or they are blind. You know she had a crush on you –"

"On the Boy-Who-Lived, Hermione, her childhood hero," Harry interrupted. "Yes, she was obsessed with him, mostly because she heard ridiculous stories about him. But that's not me, you know that. That's a story for children, not reality. And she's grown up, hasn't she? She'll have left such an idiotic, childish daydream behind her. She's not five anymore."

"What and who you are doesn't really matter," Hermione insisted, "it is what others see in you. People see you as the hero because you are one to them. And let's face it, you might not be exactly like the character from those books, but you do have a heroic side in you. Why are you so against the idea of being with Ginny anyway? You are friends, aren't you? You like her. What more could you want? Those are pretty much ideal conditions for a relationship for you right there. Attraction building on already existing friendship."

"I'm closer to you and Ron, yet we aren't in a relationship or even heading that way. I'm closer to Neville, too, but you don't see us as a couple, do you?"

"Well, not regularly, no," she admitted with a frown, "but you and Ginny are kind of meant for each other."

"Explain then because I don't see it," Harry told her.

"All right," she replied, sounding slightly annoyed. "She had a crush on you in the past. She resembles your mother, and boys look for that. You share an interest –Quidditch. You like each other; you are friends. Her family likes you, and you fit in with them quite well. You are her hero, you saved her in our second year. You have similar nightmares in your past. You complement each other."

Harry looked at her. Then, he forced himself to speak calmly. "That's it? That's why Ginny and I are meant for each other?"

"What more do you want?" she asked.

He ran a hand through his hair. "But that's idiotic! Half the reasons... have you listened... ? Have you noticed... ?" He breathed in, held it, then back out. Once he was calm again, he tried once more. "Let's start at the beginning. Or wait, no, let's start with me saying –have you lost your mind? Because none of those reasons make much sense. So she loves Quidditch. I like it, yeah, because I can fly and prove myself as something other than that Boy-Who-Lived people want to see me as. But there are dozens of girls who like the sport even in this very room, and looking for someone who's good at Quidditch isn't really high on my priority list."

"Oh, so a girl shouldn't be able to show you up?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Where did you get that from? No, let the girl show me up for all I care, but I'd prefer someone I can talk with, someone on the same wavelength. Our love for the game is different. She loves the game, I like flying. Different, Hermione. And again, there are dozens of girls in this room alone that like the sport. But if it were only that! Yes, we are friends, but not really that close. She only really started talking to me in our fourth year, and it certainly wasn't anything special. You three are closer to me than Ginny. Luna might be as well, for that matter, and even though we aren't in the same house and haven't interacted much outside of the DA, I had more meaningful talks with Luna than with Ginny. And leaving that aside, being friends does not mean a relationship upgrade is the natural conclusion or even that good of an idea in principle. It's not like dating is logical. 'Oh, we have the same interests, let's –'" He broke off, realizing he didn't want to imply dating necessarily meaning love. He compromised. "'– fancy each other.' Many people are friends without going out with each other in the end, and with good reason. One doesn't necessarily look for the same qualities in friendship and love, and boy do I not look for someone like Ginny. No offence, Ron."

"How can you be so sure?" Hermione countered. "I get it, you have a girlfriend, and it's all fresh now so you don't want to cheat on her. That's noble of you, Harry, but she's not the only fish in the sea."

"The same is true for Ginny," Harry interrupted, "yet you were acting as if she's the only catch for me. 'Well, yes, who else?'"

"Just because others are there doesn't mean Ginny isn't," Hermione pointed out. "And she is arguably closer to you than the other girls in this room, giving her more opportunities to catch your eye. But," she said, raising a hand to stop Harry from interrupting once more, "I get it. You've got a girlfriend and don't want to think about other girls like that. That's noble of you. But are you sure Greengrass thinks like that? Are you sure she isn't going out with other boys, testing the waters and trying to find herself? She's your first real girlfriend, and somehow, I doubt you really are that serious about each other anyway. Just how much do you see of each other, huh? You rushed into it, the feelings are fresh, but that doesn't mean it's meant to be. You hardly know Greengrass, after all, so how can you be sure you're not meant to be with Ginny? She might be the one if you'd allow it, but you seem to be dead-set against even considering it."

"We are friends, Ginny and I," Harry replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, "mostly because I'm friends with Ron and she's his sister. Otherwise, she'd be like the Creevey's, I think – kind of there if I ever needed someone, but not really someone I'd actively seek out. If I wanted to talk about Quidditch –"

"Dozens of girls, yes," Hermione told him with a roll of her eyes.

"I was going to say, I'd have Katie. My teammate since our first year? The girl I spent hours with during training? Ginny isn't the only fish in the sea, as you put it, so why you'd assume it has to be her is beyond me. And what does her family have to do with it, anyway? They are her family; I don't intend to marry them and move into the Burrow or something, and I don't intend to date someone because I like their family."

"Might be fun, having you around," Ron said with a smile.

"Your parents will throw you out once you've left school, you know that," Harry told him. "They'll want to have the house for themselves for a while, at least until grandchildren come around." Turning to Hermione, he continued. "I fit in with them because I'm friends with half of them, not because they are part of the package deal. Fred and George are awesome, Ron is my best friend. Bill is cool, Charlie and I got along decently even though we spent very little time together. They aren't part of a package deal."

"That still means you would get along with them fine should you tie the knot," Hermione argued.

"Oh, so now I'll marry Ginny, too?" Harry laughed.

"She likes you," Hermione insisted.

"She's with Dean. Even if she were the last woman on earth, she'd still be with Dean and off-limits. And correct me if I'm wrong, but if she's with Dean, then she obviously decided against pursuing me."

Hermione scoffed. "Oh, so she's not good enough for you, now that she has a boyfriend? Is that it? Do you think she'll care you've been with Greengrass? Because I doubt it."

"Dean is my friend," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'd be a horrible person if I stole his girlfriend for such a stupid reason. I don't interfere with their relationship. I'm happy for him, in fact; he keeps her busy and happy, but is wary of both Ron and me."

"It... it doesn't bother you?" Hermione asked with a slightly higher voice than usual. "To see them together? Not even a bit?"

"Why should it?" Harry asked, utterly bewildered. "He's got himself a girlfriend. She's got a boyfriend, he is a decent guy. Why would I mind that as long as he isn't keeping me awake with endless serenades about her beauty? Of course it doesn't bother me. I think it's awesome. She's putting a lot of effort into the Quidditch team –he's giving her strength, I think. No, it doesn't bother me, quite the contrary. What kind of friend would I be if I resented him having a girlfriend?"

"It's just... well, she... she's Ron's sister, and I thought you might... I thought..." she blanched as if she had realized she had made a misjudgement, and Harry couldn't help but agree. He and Ginny?

"That's Ron's problem, though, not mine. Why should it be? As long as she isn't losing her drive on the pitch, she could sacrifice puppies to the bloodthirsty monster that is Snape; heck, as long as she doesn't lose her drive, she could take up with Snape for all I care. Sure, if Ron asks me to help him set Dean straight, I'll gladly help, but I'm guessing Dean'll let us anyway. He's a boy, and he's got sisters as well; he knows why we'd do it, so no bad feelings. Other than that, I keep my nose out of their business and let her brothers worry about protecting whatever virtue she might have. She's old enough to decide for herself. She's with Dean, so there's that. Now where was I?"

"Her past crush," Neville told him, looking curious. "Her resemblance to your mother. Her hero worship because of your rescues. Similar nightmares, whatever Hermione means by that. And that you complement each other."

"Ah, yes. Similar nightmares?" There it was again, the restlessness he had felt in the past. He stood up and started pacing.

"You've both suffered at the hands of Voldemort," Hermione reminded him.

"Ah, she lost her parents? I hadn't noticed. Grew up without family? The poor girl, she hides her pain well, I must say. She's hunted by him?"

"I meant –"

"I know what you meant, Hermione. Ginny and I are not similar," he told her. "She and I will never be similar, I hope. She... I am hunted, Hermione! I don't search for them, they target me. Me personally. I don't decide to risk my life, I don't stand by my friends to help them in their danger, I am the reason for that danger. I don't have the luxury to decide, I cannot choose for myself; I am forced into this war. She on the other hand got tricked; she paid the price and suffers for it, perhaps even for the rest of her life, yes, but she is not like me. And if she so wanted, she could turn around, leave and live." He barely stopped himself from adding that he didn't have that option – his death was already an inevitable result of the war.

They were silent, Ron and Neville shifting uncomfortably. Harry held Hermione's gaze.

"I..." she began, "I didn't mean..."

"Yes, I know what you meant. I'm sorry I was an arse, but... This is war, Hermione. My burden is not like hers. She doesn't have an army of bloodthirsty criminals after her, she has the chance to walk away from it. She'd feel bad, but she could do it."

"It's our burden as well," Ron said, placing a hand on Harry's arm. "We chose to stay at your side. We won't desert you; we will go all the way with you, side by side. It is our burden too."

Harry wanted to laugh, wanted to tell them about his destiny. Wouldn't now be good time? But then, it wouldn't be fair. No, better to let the people think it had been a cruel twist of fate. While he looked at his friends, pale-faced as they were, he wished more than ever before that he could escape the inescapable future. He didn't want to die, after all. He had to, didn't he? Only then, only with the last Horcrux gone, the last piece of Voldemort dead, vanished into the nothingness or afterlife would the world be safe again. For while, at least. Until the next Dark Lord would surface; until the next fighters for justice would have to step up to save the world. Until those brave souls of the future would have to weather the horrors of war.

How long until his own fight would only be a note in the books? How long until he would be nothing more than a character from children's stories, or only spoken of in history? He suddenly felt deeply ashamed. All those times in History of Magic Binns had told about wars, about heroes risking their lives for a cause they believed in, and Harry had dozed off. Perhaps that was how he had earned his own destiny. By disrespecting heroes of the past, he had earned the punishment of becoming one himself?

He forced himself to leave those thoughts behind, and concentrate on the topic at hand. "And even if we had similar nightmares, that does not necessarily mean love is bound to grow between us. Others lost family as well, even in this war. Am I meant to take it up with them as well? Now then, her past crush?" he remembered. "Childhood fantasies on her part, and ones I'm not entirely comfortable with as you know. And, yes, I saved her in the past. In my second year, and mostly because no one else could have done anything in time. Everyone would have done the same, I think."

"I'd have called a teacher," Neville piped up. "Let them sort it out, maybe lend them my help and expertise."

"Well, everyone would have tried to do something, right? And my past deeds, they aren't that great. I did what I could, nothing more."

"It still might have left an impression, Harry," Hermione told him. "Call it childish, but it shows a deep loyalty to your friends. I doubt there is anything you wouldn't do to help us."

Ron nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, he'd die for us."

Harry laughed out loud. He couldn't stop himself. Perhaps Ron had Seer Blood in him, or maybe Divination was more about stating the most disturbing possibilities and Fate simply planned the worst for humans with both merely coinciding.

Harry gathered his thoughts. "Childish fantasies are a terrible basis for a relationship, even I know that. It's worse when you consider that she'd see something in me that I either am not or don't really want to be – the hero from her childhood stories. It also ignores my feelings for her."

"You don't like her?" Hermione challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"She's a friend. We share some hobbies. She –" He glanced at Ron. "Well, she's no Moaning Myrtle or... I don't know. But that doesn't mean I have to fancy her or that I'd have to act on it if I did."

"What else? Oh, yeah. We complement each other? She's a brash, competitive girl with a nasty, violent streak and short temper," Harry explained, annoyed at having to defend not fancying Ginny. "What does that make me then if we complement each other as you claim? A calm, giving boy with a kind, peaceful personality and patience who prefers to agree with whatever I'm told?"

"You could be similar in some respects," Hermione said with a small shrug. "And she learned cooking from her mother, Harry, that has to count for something."

"But I'm not Ron, I don't live for food. Also, I'm kind of wary of anything she might manage in the kitchen. And don't forget, I grew up at the Dursleys. I like tasty food, but I know I can survive on bread and water. I know about my dietary habits, about my limits. And I do know how to cook myself, so I don't –"

"Really?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, really. Who do you think made a lot of the meals before I arrived at Hogwarts? Yes, I can cook, why shouldn't I? Anyway, we'd clash, I think, with Ginny telling me what to do and me being reluctant to give up the freedom I like to have. We make decent friends, but as a couple, I seriously doubt we could make it work. And just for the record, she doesn't resemble my mother."

"She's a redhead," Hermione reminded him, "just like your mother, Harry."

"Again, so are dozens of girls here at school alone. My mother was also a kind, if headstrong girl – and I'll give you the headstrong – with exceptional marks proving her smarts. Ginny's abysmal in school, or at least she needs far too much help to be considered highly intelligent. Sorry, Ron, but..."

"Yeah, no problem. I'll have to hit you for it later, but you're right," the other boy agreed.

"And," Neville added, "kind is not an adjective I'd associate with Ginny."

Hermione glared at him. "You went to the ball with her!"

"So I did. It was a fun evening, no doubt about that. But I'm not Harry. She told me what to do and I did it. She told me where to stand, what to say and do. She ordered and I followed; it worked out because I didn't object. Yes, it was fun; yes, she was a nice date, certainly, and yes, she... err," he said with a fierce blush, "she... err, was nice. On the dance-floor, I mean. Forgave me whenever I stepped on her toes, but she wasn't... motherly?"

Ron frowned. "All right," he decided, but he glared at Neville nonetheless.

"So you're all against Ginny and Harry?" Hermione wondered. "Not one of you has seen it? None of you think they have chemistry?"

"Well, it didn't seem all that likely with Ginny unable to say anything to Harry," Ron pointed out. "And once she could get out a sentence or two, she started hanging around other blokes. Mind you, better Harry than Corner, but..." He looked uncomfortable.

"There's that, yes," Harry added. "Mind you, it's not like people choose who they fancy, so Ginny and I spending time together on the pitch or being friends only means increased likelihood of actually dating, not a certainty of anything happening, which leads us back to the beginning – 'Well yes, who else?' Any girl at Hogwarts would have a slight chance. Ginny's might be bigger, but not so much that it's a foregone conclusion that we'd ever see anything in each other, much less give it a try."

"But she looks like his mother!"

"Yeah, Hermione, about that," Harry said, "first of all, if you uphold the belief that boys look for girls who resemble their mother, then I claim all girls grow up to become like their mother. And red hair or not, Molly Weasley does not look like my mother."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Ron shouted, whirling around.

"They have different body types?" Harry replied. "My mother was kind of tallish, wasn't she? Apart from the hair colour, they don't really look all that similar, and even that isn't that close when you compare them. Granted, if mine were alive today who knows how she'd look – she could be a one-eyed crone with a hook and half her face burned off. But there's something wrong with your theory, Hermione. Why do boys go for looks similar to their mother? Because it would have to be something genetic to work in my case, right? I had no memories of her before first year, no photos, no description either. So unless you claim it is genetic or the preference is determined before the fifteenth month..."

"You... you knew nothing about her?" Hermione asked, unsure of herself.

"Come on. You have seen the Dursleys, haven't you? Do you honestly think they'd tell me bedtime stories about my parents? Or keep photos of them around?"

"But... you must have known," she claimed. "They must have told you about your parents. They are your family."

"Oh, they told me about them, yes," Harry laughed humourlessly. "But those were Dursley stories meant to teach me something about myself, not my parents; stories of how they got landed with me, and why I should be grateful they took me in out of the goodness of their hearts. Tales about the good-for-nothing drunks who got themselves killed, lazybones who didn't care enough about their child to stay alive. Stuff like that, essentially." Harry shrugged.

"But... but that's abuse! Verbal abuse, Harry!" Hermione screeched.

"So?" he countered with a raised eyebrow. "Even if it were, it doesn't matter. One summer with them and I'll be gone. I even considered not going back, but... Obligation," he offered with a shrug. "For over fifteen years, I have kept them safe. It's almost done, stopping now, so close to the end, feels as if I'd... quit or something. I might not have chosen that task myself, but I want to finish it. Once I'm out of there, I'll never see them again. They'll be happy, I'll be happy, everyone will be happy."

She stared at him, wide-eyed, perhaps wondering how she could have overlooked that fact about her friend. Ron looked anywhere but at Harry for fear of saying something stupid. It was probably also difficult for him to decide which side to take.

Finally, Neville restarted the conversation. "Well, Ginny and Harry, that wouldn't work well at all. Both are too stubborn to compromise on anything."

Hermione threw him a thankful smile. "Well, we'll see. You still have your whole life ahead of you, and the war will end one day. People change, Harry, and maybe you will discover something in Ginny you hadn't seen before. So for now, how about we shelve this conversation and look at the fun side of things?"

Ron nodded, smiling as well. "Sounds good."

"And," Hermione said with an amused glint in her eye, "right now, I want to know all about you and Greengrass. How come I only hear about it now? How have you two met, and how did you get together? And I'm really surprised. Ron, you obviously knew about it, but you don't seem to have a problem with it. I thought you'd yell about a betrayal? Your best friend is with a Slytherin!"

The redhead squirmed under her look. "Well, it wasn't his choice, was it?"

Hermione blinked, then she grinned widely. "Oh, that's hilarious!" she laughed. "So Miss Greengrass has sunken her claws into my best friend? Or, since she's a Slytherin –a snake –her teeth perhaps?" She wiped a tear from her eye. "You do have it with strong, decisive girls, then, don't you? Even if you try to deny it... So she lay a claim on you. What about pet names? Does she have you call her something cute? Oh, and Valentine's Day is coming up, surely she expects something, right?"

"It's not like that," Ron ground out, irritated. "It's a contract."

Hermione's chuckles stopped abruptly, as she froze mid-movement. She blinked, trying to figure out the meaning of the statement. "What do you mean, a contract?" When Ron blushed, but refused to speak up, she turned to Harry. "What does he mean?"

Harry glared at him. "Great going," he said. But he had been about to tell her anyway before they got side-tracked. If she learned about it some other time, she would think he had actively tried to hide it, which wasn't the case. If Hermione talked to one of the Weasleys or even Greengrass –either of them, really –she would learn the truth.

Turning to the other boys, he said, "Maybe we should go to the dorm?"

"Dean and Seamus are there," Ron pointed out. Neville nodded, but kept quiet.

"Yes, I know, but why not? We could clear the air in one swoop and get both Seamus and Neville up to speed on the matter. And then there's Dean, of course," Harry told them. "He doesn't understand either, but I don't want to tiptoe around the matter in our own dorm whenever he is around. That way, we can talk without worries and make sure he's on the same page."

Neville smiled at him. "I'll make sure they are decent, alright?" Receiving Harry's nod, he stood up and left for the stairs.

"What matter, Harry?" Hermione asked in displeasure.

"We'll explain in the dorm. Help me collect the books, I doubt we will come down tonight," Harry said.

Together they gathered the books and parchment, the quills and even cleaned up after themselves a bit. After dispelling the privacy charms with Hermione looking on the verge of asking about them, they sneaked upstairs. They found their dorm already decently filled. Dean sat on his bed with Neville picking up some clothes off the floor to occupy his time. They heard water running from the bathroom, and not even a minute later, Seamus walked in.

"Alright then, everyone accounted for," Ron told the room, and both he and Harry cast a variety of privacy charms on the room. Hermione watched them closely, paying rapt attention to the little details, no doubt trying to learn them simply by studying their wand movements.

"I'm surprised you haven't learned them already, Hermione," Harry said while pocketing his wand.

"I was busy with... my Charms project, you know?" she told him crossly, settling on Ron's bed. "It is surprisingly difficult. But don't you dare change topic now."

"Wouldn't dream of it, not when I have an audience for the main event of the evening," he replied with a sigh. "Well, I should start off by saying that I chose to confide in you and expect you to keep the secret. That includes you as well, Dean, Seamus. So where to start?"

"I asked you and Ron what you meant by..."

"Yes," Harry interrupted. "Well, I'll just bring all of you up to speed. In June, the title of Head of House Black passed to me. By that I mean that on my seventeenth birthday, I will take control of the House, the vaults –everything, basically."

"That'll be a sweet seventeenth birthday," Seamus whistled. "The Blacks, as in Sirius Black?"

"As in Sirius Black, the innocently imprisoned, yes. Well, on Christmas Eve, I signed some papers as Acting Head of House as was my right. For a limited time, I took equally limited control over what should have been a small business matter –a donation. Only it wasn't, and it had consequences. It activated a roughly hundred-year-old contract with another House."

Seamus whistled again. "You hound! I guess I should congratulate you? Some nice bird?" He ignored Hermione's glare. Dean stared, not knowing what they were talking about.

It was at that moment Hermione found her voice. "Wait! What does this have to do with Greengrass?"

Seamus laughed. "Oh, a nice bird indeed! Or snake, rather. Poor champ."

Hermione seemed to have taken that as confirmation for her fears. She paled, but jumped to her feet. "You mean... ? You can't mean...! That's barbaric! You don't mean there are actually... ! You can't take part in such a despicable injustice! Harry! Please tell me you don't have anything to do with that!"

"Well, like Ron said, it's not like I had much of a choice. She turned seventeen shortly before Christmas, which obligated her to fulfil the contract if a suitable candidate came along. When I signed those papers, for that briefest of moments I was considered old enough as well. Since both sides had a viable candidate, the contract activated. There was nothing I could have done afterwards."

"But it's all wrong! It's cruel, witches forced to marry against their will! The wizarding world is even more backwards than I had feared!" Hermione gripped her hair in outrage.

"So," Dean began. "So, Harry has to... what, exactly? I'm sorry, Muggle-raised, what's that all mean?"

Seamus took it upon himself, being closer to Dean than the others. "Well, it's part of the traditions –pureblood, of course –to strengthen the ties between families. Harry has to... err, marry Greengrass, apparently."

"That's it in a nutshell, yes," Harry agreed. "Quite a shock that evening when the owl arrived."

Hermione whirled around. "How can you just stand there and... and do nothing? It's a life that has been ruined! By the stupid traditions of dim-witted inbreds!"

Ron frowned, and Seamus jumped to his feet. "Oi! Those are me family ye're talking 'bout there!"

"As another pureblood," Neville said in a measured tone, "and one who has been taught these stupid traditions since he could walk and talk, I have to agree with Seamus. You are insulting our families there, and you do it based on prejudices."

"Pre... prejudices?" Hermione shrieked. "I do no such thing! But this is..."

"Mostly a thing of the past, Hermione," Harry interrupted. "I simply had my typical luck to stumble into one that hadn't been cleared away beforehand."

"So you're telling me," she began, "that purebloods sell their daughters like... like cattle! They sell their daughters to the highest bidder as breeding stock, and you knew about that, and you don't see anything wrong with that?"

Dean nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, but so far, I'm kind of on her side. That doesn't sound... well..."

Sighing, Harry took a step towards her. "Bill explained it to me..."

"Bill?" Hermione interrupted.

"Yeah, he assisted me during the negotiations," Harry told her. "Pureblood that he is, he is more familiar with the traditions than I am, but we're short on time."

She looked as if she wanted to badger him further, but the desire to learn, even if it was about a topic she found repulsive, was too strong.

"So, yes," Harry began, "Ron, Seamus, Neville you can help me, if you want. Where to start? Ah, yes. Well, first of all, it's all about alliances between families. You see, back in the olden days, the Feuding Ages, wizardkind was thinking more in terms of clans or Houses. That meant alliances were kind of important, so two clans occasionally agreed to a marriage between members of each family. In other cases, clans arranged a marriage to settle a feud -you don't fight family, you see? Tying them together, if you will, meant the feud could be ended without either side losing face. So that's the origin of contracts."

"Naturally, a wedding needs a couple," Seamus threw in. "Sometimes they asked for volunteers, two who liked each other or were willing to do it for the family. Other times they brought every eligible member somewhere with barrels of ale for the night and checked the next morning where everyone came to rest."

"Now that part sounds fun," Dean chuckled.

"Yes, well," Seamus replied with a grin of his own, "so about those contracts. If it was an alliance, both parties were of the same mind, but said alliance could threaten another clan or family, one who had a feud with one of the contracted houses. So, to calm those worries, the Heads of both clans from the alliance, let's call them Apple and Banana, made a ritualistic blood sacrifice as part of an oath; something along the lines of swearing not to attack the third family, Chestnut, and that way, peace between them was assured. Well, over time, it became something else. Blood is easily spilled, after all, and not that permanent. So the feuding family wrote a contract with families they had a feud with, offering a marriage as well. Hardly anyone does that anymore, but that's the third origin." He looked at each of the people in the room.

"How do you know all that?" Dean wondered.

"Well, Gran wanted me to know that stuff," Neville spoke up. "She thought it was important to know where we came from, and my Grandfather was something of an expert on these old traditions. Well, that would be the origins of the tradition. We already said how the, err, contracted parties were chosen, so..."

"We forgot the unspecified contracts, though," Seamus threw in. "And those would be important in this case, right?"

"Ah, yes, you are right," Neville agreed, blushing.

"Let me, then," Seamus spoke up. "Sometimes, there were no eligible candidates. Since it is an agreement between the two families, they could decide to restrict who could be chosen as potential candidates. Let's say, only purebloods. That was commonplace, of course. Or maybe the contracted parties have to be no more than a number of years apart. No creature blood so there is no contamination. Something like that. No squibs, of course. Well, if no one fit that description right away, the clans or houses wrote general contracts. Should a situation arise in which the requirements for both families were met, then those who fit the bill were meant to be married. So there are contracts with specific people, Anna Apple and Bernard Berry for example, and contracts without any people in mind. Those are more along the lines of promises, enforced by magical contracts."

"And these contracts, what did they entail?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, that's hard to say in general," Harry told her. "The unspecific contracts are more or less a promise about what is to happen should an eligible couple come along in a certain amount of time. They read something like, 'Should an Apple and a Berry be born who fulfil the requirements, they should marry. The Apple has to be this, the Berry that.' Something like that. If those conditions are fulfilled, these general contracts are replaced by that first type, a personalized contract. 'Anna Apple and Barry Berry have to marry,' you know? That's it, basically. They are usually longer, let's say, something about dowries, a few clauses about not killing each other, but at the heart of it, personalized contracts only state that two people have to marry. In my case, the general contract demanded pure blood for the Greengrasses and no more than seven years apart. The personalized contract is about as uncomplicated as they can be –neither Greengrass nor I were happy about it in the first place, so why make it more difficult for us than it needs to be? It's more or less only about who has to do what and gets what in return."

"That sounds a bit like marriage settlements in the Muggle world," Dean said with a frown.

"Well, if you say so," Seamus told him. "They are usually short and to the point if the families like each other, but if they tried to end a feud, contracts got very interesting." He laughed. "That's one of the funnier traditions. See, if they wanted to get the families to negotiate –to stop them from fighting, you know –they often came up with ridiculous demands to stall for time. Who had to get the house, who the cutlery? That's why it's tradition to have one family give a ram and one a ewe –bride-groom and bride, only as animals. And they have to be kept at the wedding, running around, doing what they want, eating what they want, bleating whenever they feel like it. Pandemonium, from what I heard."

Ron cleared his throat. "Well, yeah. So, that's how it began. Alliances, feuds and stuff. So they wrote these contracts. But after a while, families didn't like marrying off their children due to general contracts, see? So they mixed in another tradition –the bride price."

"So they do buy the girls!" Hermione yelled.

"They did, kind of, and then not really," Harry tried. "They exchanged heirlooms. Books, jewellery. Well, stuff like that. They mixed that into the contracts and included escape clauses. Marry or pay gold. The family who wants out has to pay. That change was around something like the thirteenth century or so. Greengrasses' side – and about relation to the family in question so only sons or daughters of the Houses were eligible. Today, contracts are extremely limited. Apparently, in our parents' generation, it was something like the next generation, no more than two months apart, and purebloods since there aren't that many left."

"And there you have it," Seamus said with a nod. "The girls aren't sold any more than the boys are, both parties are informed beforehand –know about it years before, actually –and receive an update each year a hundred-and-forty-four days before their birthday, and have enough time to settle the contract. You know, pay the gold, shake hands, smile and go their separate ways."

"Why a hundred-and-forty-four days?" Hermione asked, beating Dean to the punch.

Ron scratched his chin. It was Seamus who replied, "Well, Gringotts takes care of that business. They got that duty after a goblin rebellion, and the treaty had been signed by twelve goblins and wizards each. That was after a goblin died overnight from a sudden dagger in the back. Well, since a wizard died before they signed from severe lack of head, they were even again. Twelve wizards, twelve goblins."

"Lovely," Hermione deadpanned. "But Harry wasn't informed beforehand, were you?"

He bit his lip. "I received no notification," he compromised. It was a truth, and likely the one that would cause the least trouble.

"There you have it," she called out triumphantly. "So they made a mistake, one Harry has no responsibility for. That should get him out of it!"

"But then, the notice is sent exactly a hundred-and-forty-four days before the birthday," Ron pointed out. "The goblins take that very seriously. And, you know, Harry didn't inherit until summer. He would have been informed –what somewhere mid-March?"

"Yeah," Seamus agreed. "You said you inherited the title of Head of House? Well, that should have bumped you up on the list. Or put you on it in the first place."

"And what list do you mean?" Hermione demanded impatiently.

"Ah, right, sorry. Well, candidates are ranked according to their relation to the family in question – children of the House itself, in this case, Blacks, are First Ranks. The likeliest candidate is, as well, even if it's just a child of a Black to another house – normally a Second Rank. First Ranks are mentioned by name in the letters from Gringotts, you see, so the other family would know who to talk to if they want to dissolve. Second Ranks are acceptable, but not likely. They get letters as well, but only the total number is mentioned in letters to the other family. Third Ranks and below aren't eligible – they aren't mentioned and have next to no chance of ever having anything to do with the contracts. They do not get letters and are usually too far removed to count towards anything."

Dean frowned. "How come Harry's stuck with it, then? He's a Potter, isn't he?"

"Well, my grandmother was a Black, making me the grandchild of one. Another thing no one bothered to tell me." Harry sighed heavily. "And the contract in question had me as a Third Rank previously. Half-blood grandson of a Black. I was safe." Hermione made to speak but he raised his hand to ward her off. "I was, Hermione, until that inheritance from the Blacks. With me taking up the Headship next summer, I'm the heir of House Black, putting me on the same level as a son of the house – a Second Rank. And when I signed those papers, for that short moment in time, I was a Black and with enough power within the family to activate the contract. Greengrass was already an adult, so she was locked in as well. And there you have it. No buying of girls, just two teenagers stuck in a bad situation. Just my typical luck to stumble over something so unlikely."

"She didn't buy out, then," Seamus observed, frowning. "Wait, did you say you were a Second Rank? Then someone else was meant to fulfil it?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Well, no, she didn't buy out, and yes, there had been another candidate for House Black, but he hadn't settled the contract either." Seeing their looks, he rolled with his eyes. Typical, gossip like that got them listening. "Malfoy."

They blinked; then, Ron started laughing. "Oh, why hadn't you told me that? It's hilarious! You snatched up his bride-to-be? Ha, he must have been furious!"

Harry sighed. "Not sure about that. At least he isn't forced to marry some girl he hardly knows."

"Ha!" Hermione jumped. "Ha! So you admit it's stupid! You admit it!"

"I never denied that," Harry pointed out. "But it's a contract, and they aren't known to leave much choice in the matter apart from buying out." He was happy with the truth he had offered.

"Also," Seamus spoke up, "they're mostly for show nowadays –one of the few jobs the goblins still have."

"So all of this," Hermione grumbled, "just to placate the goblins?"

Seamus chuckled. "I'd dare you to tell them you want to take one of the honoured duties from them, but we don't need another rebellion on our hands."

Hermione bit back a retort. Harry could see it, he had been her friend long enough to recognize the signs. Instead, she focused on the topic at hand. "But you said something about contracts requiring purebloods..."

"That could be a clause, but doesn't have to be," Ron interrupted.

"Well, fine," she said with a glare at him. "But from what I know of them, the Blacks would have put that in there, wouldn't they? And Harry's not a pureblood."

Harry chuckled, drawing everyone's eye. "They did put it in. Or rather, House Black demanded a pureblood from the other family. But as you know, House Black is toujours pure; to even suggest anything else must have been an insult to Phineas Nigellus. He's the bloke who caused this trouble. And since no Black can logically be anything else but a pureblood, including a clause to ensure it would have been both insulting and redundant."

They let the silence linger for a while, each thinking on their own. Harry who already knew everything there was to know, took the time to examine the other occupants in the room. Neville looked disinterested, naturally. He too knew all of it beforehand. Ron seemed to be in conflict with himself. Harry guessed he tried to come to terms with it. Seamus busied himself with preparing his bed. Dean blinked a lot more than usual, trying to figure it out. Hermione had begun pacing, in her mind no doubt working out the important questions. Finally, she had finished and stopped the pacing.

"So, what does that mean, then? There is no way out?" She looked to each of them.

Harry answered her. "Well, I hadn't intended to mention it, but there is no reason to keep it secret either. No way out, yes. The Greengrasses and I wrote a personalized contract for Greengrass –err, Daphne, I mean –and me. That one is signed and replaced the previous one. Since we both don't really have that much to do with each other, we kept the actual contract as simple as possible. There are precious few clauses apart from the bare minimum. Separate accounts, separate wills, separate lives. In summer, we'll sign some paperwork, have a very small ceremony, and that's it. Just the bare minimum."

"But... the wizarding world has divorces, right? You'll do that as soon as you are done, right after your wedding," Hermione tried, already guessing the answer.

"Divorces exist, yes, but they aren't that commonplace, not with love potions and stuff," Ron told her.

"And contracts do work a bit differently," Seamus added.

"Of course they do," Hermione sighed heavily, turning on the spot to return to pacing.

Harry smiled despite himself. "Well, they are an agreement between the parties, tying them together by means of a magical contract like the one from the Triwizard Cup. That's also why Greengrass didn't simply borrow the gold to buy out -it's meant as a sacrifice in place of a child, from what I understood. You don't sacrifice someone else's child.

"But the clauses put into the personalized contract are for the families themselves to decide, so we included some escape clauses. One of us losing their soul to the Dementors, for example, as then the spouse would be pretty much useless. Same with life imprisonment."

"Well, I doubt you planned either of that for yourself, but Greengrass might go there," Seamus said with a smile of is own. He started to catch on.

"Understandable, better life in prison than being married to Harry," Ron decided to add. "No offence, but..."

"Yeah, joke all you want," Harry grumbled. "You're the one to talk. No, I planned to use neither of those, not for me and also not for her, but it is nice to have them in place. We added them because they are relatively uncomplicated. Same with the heir clause," he finished, grinning widely.

Seamus laughed. "Brilliant! All your bases covered, I like that! Brilliant, Harry."

Hermione tapped her foot and stared at her friends. Harry complied. "It's a clause to ensure that a house continues to exist. Should no heir be born within a set time, in this case, seven years, either side can walk away from the marriage. For that clause to work, all I had to do was to not rule out the possibility of an heir being born. As long as I wasn't averse to that possibility at the time of the signing, it'll be fine."

Hermione thought it over. It was a testament to her that she hadn't started about the injustice of the clause as such. "So, unless you... err, produce an heir with Greengrass..."

"I will have an out after seven years. No heir, nothing forcing me to stay married to Greengrass. That's why it's little more than the minimum. That's why we cut the Year of Yen, before you ask, Seamus."

"Damn, and here I had hoped."

To Hermione, Harry said, "The Year of Yen is a time for the newly-wed couple to... err... try to 'produce an heir'."

"Now you regret it, don't you?" Seamus teased. "But you should have insisted on marrying according to the traditions..."

"We'll do nothing of the sort!" Harry protested.

"That's where you are mistaken!" Seamus proclaimed. "You'll have the dancing figurines on the cake, your ram and you'll have the ewe..."

"They can stay at grass," Harry reasoned.

"Are you kidding?" Ron yelled. "Seamus is right, I hadn't thought about that! We'll dig up the best traditions, and you'll have a wedding ceremony with everything!"

Neville nodded, smiling. "With the floral motif for the bridesmaids?"

"Floral..." Hermione asked, then continued, "Do I even want to know?"

Seamus smiled. "Well, traditionally the bridesmaids get dresses decorated with flowers, with the Maid of Honour having just a bit more. The bride-groom's side is the same. Well, with the sheep there..."

"I get it," Hermione waved off. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but that does sound like fun."

Ron snorted. "And you were against it."

"Oh, make no mistake, I still think it is awful. But Harry does seem to have it under control, relatively speaking, and has apparently already an end to this nonsense in sight, which means not all is lost yet. They have prepared reasonable escape routes... why seven years? Why not tomorrow?"

Harry scratched his chin. "Well, Hermione, I would have thought you'd know about it. See, when a man and a woman really love each other..." She whacked him lightly on the head.

"I asked a serious question, Harry," she scolded.

"And he tried to give an honest answer," Seamus defended. "These contracts are meant to be fulfilled. The clauses cannot undermine the purpose of the contract itself. Case in point, an heir clause that doesn't grant enough time for an heir to be conceived is obviously in conflict with the contract itself and would be ignored. An heir simply cannot be produced until tomorrow, such an heir clause simply wouldn't take effect at all. Worse, all clauses linked to it might also not matter at all."

"Explanation?" Dean asked.

"I think I get it," Hermione told him. "If two clauses are connected, if one is not active, the other might not as well. If one says only children born in January and at the same time Leos who also have to have black hair can be eligible for the contract, then the first part cannot be fulfilled. One cannot be born in January and a Leo. Since the clauses are linked, the second part wouldn't work as well, and any child would confirm it, not just those with black hair."

"Worse," Neville said, "unless some other, unrelated clause allows to dissolve the contract, there wouldn't be an out. The clauses we used as an example include the case of no child born who fits the description as an out for the couple, but since children born in January cannot be Leos the whole clause would not be active –even if no child were born at all, without an active escape clause, the marriage couldn't be dissolved. Yes, something like that, Hermione. That is why the phrasing of those conditions is very important."

They fell silent again. Seamus looked around, then he shrugged. "As fun as this little get together has been, I was kind of in the process of getting to bed when you caught me, so I'd be grateful if we could wrap this up. Harry, I'm guessing you don't want that becoming public knowledge?"

He nodded. "That was kind of the idea, yes. There aren't that many people who know about it. The Weasleys do. Some bloke at the Ministry, too. The goblins. After this evening, everyone in this room."

"And her family," Neville pointed out.

"Yes, that's right. And the Malfoys," Harry continued. "I'm guessing her dorm mates as well, partly for the same reason I told you guys –to have a safe haven to talk about it away from nosy people."

"I feel loved," Dean yawned.

"Also, because you are my friends, yes," Harry added. "But this way, I know you are informed should the subject come up between Ron and I, Dean will know what to think of it..."

"Completely bonkers, the lot of you," came the cheery reply.

"... and I have seen to it Hermione is in the loop again. Also, you are prepared for when it does get out."

"Yeah, yeah," Seamus grumbled. "He he, stole Malfoy's bride. Good one, Harry."

"When will the wedding be, then?" Hermione asked.

"Ah, that. Well, we agreed upon mid-August. That way, Bill's wedding is already done. And we have already agreed upon the actual ceremony: No ewe, no ram, no traditional wedding. This is a business deal, nothing more."

Hermione nodded, but, ignoring the groans from Dean and Seamus, continued, "Why do the Malfoys know, incidentally?"

"They were informed that the contract had been activated. They were elevated of their obligation, after all," Harry told her.

"How did he take it?" Ron threw in. "Bet he didn't like it."

"Surprisingly well," Harry mused. "He might not have looked forward to it if you catch my drift. It might seem like something that he wouldn't really like any more than I do. Daphne told me he had seemed bored in their first meeting that evening on Christmas Day when both got their owls. He seemed the same when I met him in Gringotts. We exchanged niceties and jabs and parted ways. It was strange to have him civil."

Ron asked, "Daphne?" and the same time Hermione said, "He did change over the school year, Harry, he's grown up."

He chuckled. "She said the same when I talked to her last time. And yes, Ron, Daphne, since there are numerous Greengrasses around, aren't there?"

"Well, she'll know him better than we do. If she thinks so too, then he really did change. It's not so unusual for people to grow up and become responsible."

Harry shook his head slightly. "No, I think he's planning something. He has changed alright." He narrowed his eyes. Something was bothering him. He could tell he knew what it was. Malfoy being disinterested in the upcoming wedding of Daphne Greengrass and Harry Potter. No anger about the lost gold and influence to his worst rival. Then there was Draco's change over the summer. Hermione might think he had grown up, but Harry wasn't quite so sure. Draco had always been a bully, using power to mistreat others. Why would he suddenly stop? It simply didn't fit his personality. Or perhaps it did fit. He had lost his father in a way, maybe it had shocked him awake? All the pieces were there, but he couldn't quite put them together. Something was missing somehow, it was all connected.

Then again, Harry rather liked Moody for his paranoid streak. The man might have had a bit too much adventure in his time, but he was still one of the best there had ever been. If Moody had survived by being overly mistrustful, then perhaps there just might be something to it, Harry reasoned. He wished the leaving Hermione good-night with her wishing him sweet dreams. But his mind still lingered on the talk he had had in the last hour. Now that was kind of out in the open, he felt his head oddly clear. Maybe that was why Dumbledore used the Pensieve? But with the thoughts and secrets about his betrothal to Greengrass sorted out, something else came to the forefront –the feeling of unease. Something he couldn't name bothered him. Something was not alright at Hogwarts. Something was off.

"So," Hermione spoke up, pulling Harry from his thoughts, "you are engaged now," she began counting on her fingers, "to Greengrass, a Slytherin. The wedding will be in August. It is because of a marriage contract that had been lying around without anyone bothering to tell you." Neville drew the curtains of his bed closed, Dean and Seamus covertly left the room. Hermione continued, "The negotiations for that personalized contract were during the holidays. Even leaving out the Weasleys, about a dozen people knew about it already prior to this evening. And you waited for the right time to tell me, but hadn't found it yet?" She fixed Harry with her eyes. "Because you didn't want to discuss it where we could have been overheard?"

Harry sent her an uneasy smile.


Boring talk is boring. At least Hermione has been brought up to speed.

Also, Harry's getting paranoid. Or is he?

.

After a lengthy discussion with a reader, I changed Hermione's line "you would get along with [the Weasleys] once you tie the knot" to "[...] should you tie the knot one day", going from an eventuality of marrying Ginny to a possibility.

Fixed a typo that somehow went unnoticed.

Also replaced the explanation about a summer child born in January to account for the southern hemisphere.