RON SUFFERS A CRISIS

Harry is in a daze for several days, processing Malfoy's last words. He hasn't spoken to Malfoy again, though they still greet each other and smile as they pass each other in the corridors or if their gazes meet during meals in the Great Hall. Ron has made Harry tell him several times about their conversation about Lucius Malfoy, but he doesn't seem so suspicious anymore. At least, not all the time.

"Are you sure it's not just a charade, Harry?" asks Ron in whispers one afternoon, while they're studying in the library. Or pretending to study, because Malfoy is sitting a few tables over, and he glances fleetingly at Harry from time to time. "I mean, last time the Imperius was an excuse, I'm sure."

"It's not what he says that matters, it's what he does," says Hermione, answering instead Harry, not looking up from the essay she's writing. And without stopping writing, which Harry is unable to understand how he is able to do, she goes on to talk. "It's not the same thing to get out of the way with an excuse, as it is to actively confront your old ideals and actions. And, surrendering and admitting your own responsibility and dealing with the consequences is, of course, more than just an excuse."

"You mean we can trust Malfoy because his father has given away some former Death Eaters, uncovered possible hiding places and helped catch Peter Pettigrew?" asks Ron, reluctantly.

Harry, who is smiling at Malfoy when Ron mentions Sirius's old friend, perks up even more. Thanks to Pettigrew's capture, Sirius has been able to leave his hiding place and is in the process of clearing his name. He has had to surrender himself to Aurors, but at least he is no longer in Azkaban, but in a clean, dementor-free cell at the Ministry, and he is allowed to write letters to Harry so that he doesn't worry, assuring him that in a few days everything will be sorted out.

"Basically, yes," replies Hermione, unperturbed. "But mostly because her father is willing to take his own responsibility for the acts in which he himself has taken part, and is willing to help put them right where he can. That's— brave."

"Besides, Malfoy knows what fascism is," says Harry, not remembering whether or not he's already told that detail. He decides he hasn't, judging by Hermione's expression of interest as she looks up from her writing, and Ron's expression of bewilderment. "He said something about the nostalgia of Muggle Fascism when referring to the former Death Eaters who messed up the Quidditch World Cup."

"So, it doesn't matter that Malfoy was one of them if he's now saying he's sorry and helping to snitch on everyone who was there," growls Ron, loud enough for Madame Pince to reprehend at them from her desk, but not so loud that Malfoy could have heard it from his desk. Hermione and Harry exchange a thoughtful glance before nodding, though Harry isn't sure if it makes any difference. Only... at least there's a palpable change. Ron, in the minority, gives up with a sigh. "Anyway— what's this about fascism?"

"This is why I don't think it's right for wizards to grow up knowing nothing about the Muggle world," says Hermione, exasperated. "When Grindelwald came to power, in several European countries the Muggles set up dictatorships where they murdered lots of people for not being—well, for not being like fascist want to be."

"Like Death Eaters" says Ron.

"Like Death Eaters." Hermione nods, "Did Malfoy really use that expression, Harry? Fascism, specifically?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Harry hesitates for a few seconds, because there's something else he hasn't told his friends. Probably the phrase he's analysed the most in the privacy of the canopy of his bedroom bed, obsessing over whether he remembers it correctly, whether he's interpreted it correctly, or whether it hides a cryptic message that Harry is unable to understand. "Besides, he said, if my invitation to the ball still stands, maybe he'll take her up on it. Well, sort of. He didn't actually mention the word "ball" at any point."

"Wait, what?" This time, who arrives at the table to chastise Ron is Madame Pince herself, who looks at them, irritated and angry, and points to the door peremptorily. As they leave, with Ron red with embarrassment, Harry exchanges one last glance with Malfoy, who squints thoughtfully before dismissing him with a nod and a tight-lipped smile that Harry is starting to get used to.

When the first early snow falls, which doesn't settle on the ground, but does leave the castle rooftops white, Harry begins to feel nervous about the perspective of going to a ball. And going with Malfoy, precisely, although Malfoy hasn't mentioned the possibility or confirmed anything to him. In fact, they haven't spoken again, though their brief greetings are now at least verbal and, in the subjects they do overlap, they have brief polite conversations about homework or timetables. However, nothing like their chats in the Owlery or in the corridor after the article in The Daily Prophet.

Ron, on the other hand, is becoming desperate. Once he has assumed, with more certainty than Harry feels, that Harry's probably going to the Yule Ball with a date, the need to find a partner has become a priority for him. A priority that translates into looking at the girls he comes across with the face of someone heading for the gallows, without asking anyone at all. The arrival of the dressing gowns that Molly has sent them has not helped at all, as the contrast between the elegant model that his friend's mother has chosen for Harry and the old-fashioned, aged look of Ron's second-hand robes is abysmal. Perhaps that's why, although Ron is usually reluctant to accept gifts from Harry, he has agreed to look through dress robes catalogues to order a more modern model by owl, hoping that his mother won't find out about the change and be offended.

When the new robe arrives, just a few days before the start of the school holidays, Harry still hasn't worked out any details with Malfoy and is becoming less and less convinced that he has understood the other guy's words correctly. Meanwhile, Ron has a robe he considers acceptable to go to Yule Ball, but no one to go with and the social pressure is starting to become unbearable.

"There are more people going without partners," Hermione is saying, as Harry stares hypnotised into the fire. He's holding a letter from Sirius, informing him of his release date, before the end of the year, free of all charges at last. "Maybe you should join them, you'll have a good time. Besides, Harry and I will be around, it's not like we can't hang out and dance. For God's sake, it's a dance, not a wedding engagement."

"You haven't even wanted to tell us who you're going with, and you're trying to comfort me by saying you'll spend time with me at the ball," growls Ron, though his expression softens immediately. It had been several weeks since he'd bothered Hermione on the subject, and he probably didn't mean to be so blunt when he broached it again.

"Well—" Hermione catches her breath, and Harry and Ron, curious, pay attention. "Don't laugh, okay? I'm going—" She lowers her voice and looks around. "With— well, with Viktor Krum."

"Wait, what?" Ron's surprise is interrupted by the arrival of the twins in the common room, who are surrounded by several boys who follow them excitedly. Hermione, who was blushing a moment before, instantly stands up, her brow furrowed in suspicion as she imagines what they are doing.

"This can't go on. If no prefect is going to do anything—" Raising his voice to Fred and George, he gets their attention. "That's not right."

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" protests Fred. "It doesn't hurt anyone; it just embarrasses them at best. There's Harry, he survived to tell the tale, didn't he?"

"It still wasn't comfortable or pleasant," growls Harry, siding with his friend. Even though his drinking the concoction has led to the chain of events that have occurred, and which looks set to end with him and Malfoy at a ball if Malfoy doesn't repent first, it still doesn't feel right.

"It is also unethical. You can give me any vials of concoction you have and I'll see that they disappear conveniently, or you can explain it to McGonagall, whichever you prefer," says Hermione, serious, with the authority that no house prefect seems to want to wield. Fred and George exchange a look of understanding between them and smile, so Harry intervenes once more:

"I remind you that last year he warned her about my Firebolt. And I am her best friend."

"Shit!" The twins exclaim at the same time. Reluctantly, they exchange one last resigned glance and pull three vials each from their robe pockets and hold them out to Hermione, their faces grim.

"Just know that you're going to lose us a lot of galleons, people were willing to bid small fortunes to get one of these before the holidays," says George, angrily, but Hermione picks up the vials and turns her back on them, not deigning to answer. The twins, annoyed, return to the boys they came in with, and Harry can see the looks of hatred on the faces of some of them as they realise that their last resort to finding a partner has just gone up in smoke.

"What are you going to do with that, Hermione?" asks Harry, curious.

"I suppose make it disappear. We can't risk McGonagall finding it or they'll both be punished. And as long as it's inside the castle, the chances of someone using it or handing it over are enormous."

"You have a heart of gold." Hermione smiles, grateful for the compliment. Harry knows that, even if the twins are angry at her crude blackmail now, they'll be grateful that he at least covered it up.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Ron, who has been deep in thought ever since Hermione told them who she's going to the ball with, not intervening in Hermione's impromptu raid and muttering unintelligible things to himself, suddenly moved his hand, snatching one of Hermione's vials of concoction and raising it to his lips to gulp it down. "Ron, you can't do that!"

"How are you feeling?" asks Harry, more concerned about his friend than anything that can no longer be reversed. Ron blinks slowly and ends with a pragmatic shrug.

"It seems that the effect is still not immediate."