Harry and Ron helped a white-faced Ginny through the portrait that opened out into Padfoot's office. Behind them came Hermione, wringing her hands, and Draco, who was patting her on the shoulder while keeping concerned eyes on Ginny.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, I'm so-"

"Evening," Padfoot said, standing up at his desk as he watched the five of them clamber out. Harry kept a firm grip on Ginny's forearm, trying not to jostle her broken wrist as they moved. Padfoot was in front of them in moments, flicking his wand at a chair which zoomed over to nudge gently at Ginny's knees. Harry caught Ron's eye and together they lowered her into it. She sank down, scent pained, though she was yet to utter a single word of complaint. Harry retreated to stand by Draco so Padfoot could move in.

"It's her wrist," Ron said, even as Padfoot ushered him out of the way.

"It's my fault," Hermione said. "It was a Knockback Jinx, only she wasn't paying attention but it was too late to take it back and it took her right off her feet-"

Padfoot took Ginny's wrist in his hand, then gently moved Ginny's other hand - which had been supporting the break - out of the way. A few terse swear words slipped out of Ginny's clenched lips, but they were drowned out by Padfoot's muttering, and then Ginny let out a breath and slumped in the chair. She moved her wrist, lifting and twisting it - slowly at first, then more confidently once she realised it was fully healed.

Padfoot patted her on the knee and moved back to lean against his desk.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny from behind; Harry could hear her whispering apologies:

"-an accident-"

"No, it wasn't," Ginny said. "You saw an opening and you took it, like you will in the second task. And I got hit, like I will if I have my back to the other Champions' teams." She rolled her wrist again, then hugged Hermione's arms to her. "Stop apologising." Hermione laughed a little and released her, but still smelled guilty. Ginny rubbed her shoulder where the spell had hit her. "Thanks for the patch up." Padfoot waved a hand.

"Everyone else in one piece?" he asked, eyes flicking over each of them in turn before landing and stopping on Harry.

Physically, Harry thought, and nodded; all five of them had by necessity picked up a basic but useful repertoire of healing spells and could handle small cuts, bruises, and burns. The Room's padded floors could only stop so much, and the nature of their activities were no longer limited to defending one's self against a dragon; they were instead focused on defending against people, which involved a surprising amount of offensive magic, a lot of work with the dummies in the Room, and, when those failed to be realistic enough, lot of using each other for target practice (Harry owed his friends a great deal more than he would ever be able to repay).

"Sure," Ron said.

"Well, I'm done with my marking for the night, I think," Padfoot said, stretching. "If you're heading back to the Room, I might tag along. Help out." He was looking at Harry, but Harry only saw it peripherally because he was watching the others:

Hermione's expression went from reluctant to guilty to determined. She nodded. Draco - upfront as always - shook his head. Ron nodded. Ginny drew herself up and nodded too.

"No," Harry said. "I am, but they're not." He'd have liked nothing better than to head back to Gryffindor tower and his four-poster and have an early night, but the Tournament was only two weeks out now, so that wasn't an option. "You need a break," Harry said, over their protests.

"You're not having one," Ron said, looking confused and a bit indignant. Draco shrugged. Hermione's scent went from hopeful to guilty and she mustered a noise of protest. Ginny squinted at him, scent relieved and disapproving all at once, and Harry was so very tired-

"I agree," Padfoot said, and Ron turned on him, scowling. "You do need a break." Harry looked at him, grateful for his support. "All of you." Harry's gratitude vanished, but his friends seemed to approve of that, at least; with looks that Harry knew meant they'd talk later, they began to file back into the tunnel to the Room. Harry heaved a sigh and started after them, but Padfoot's voice stopped him:

"Not you," he said, and when Harry looked back at him, saw he was gesturing for Harry to follow him as he stepped through the door into his quarters. "Couch," he said, pointing, and then started to poke around in the kitchenette.

Harry flopped down without argument and Padfoot was back a moment later, pressing a cold bottle of butterbeer and a chocolate frog into his hand. Then the couch dipped as he seated himself beside Harry, and warm weight settled around Harry's shoulders in the form of Padfoot's arm, tugging him into a sideways hug. Harry pressed the cold bottle against Padfoot's neck making him yelp, smiled to himself, then wedged his head between Padfoot's shoulder and the back of the couch. Padfoot gave him a squeeze. Harry sighed.

"What can I do?" Padfoot asked. "And please don't say nothing, because I'm sick of feeling useless." Harry twisted his head to look up at Padfoot and found him looking just as tired and stressed as Harry felt.

"Teach me non-verbal magic and something to temporarily fix my eyes," Harry said. Padfoot blinked.

"That's- okay, yeah." Padfoot glanced down at Harry. "Oddly specific, though…"

"I've been thinking about the other Champions' duelling styles. Fleur and Krum are unknowns, obviously, but I have been up against Cedric before. He Silenced me once, and summoned my glasses another time. It worked then, so he'd be stupid not to try it now."

"We can work on that," Padfoot said. Harry lay against him for a few more moments, making the most of being still instead of dodging and running and rolling and jumping. Here beside Padfoot, in his quiet quarters, he felt the safest he had in a while, felt like he didn't have to be grown-up and in charge… He started to push himself up so they could get to work-

Padfoot's arm tightened over his shoulders.

"Not tonight," Padfoot said. Harry could have broken free, but the message was clear. He settled back into the couch. "I meant it when I said I think you need a break."

"I think I need one too," Harry said. "I just don't know if I can afford one."

"But your friends can?" Harry gave him a dirty look, but gave in a moment later with another sigh.

"Ron's failed his Charms essay," he said. Padfoot didn't say anything, but his scent encouraged Harry to go on. "He didn't hand it up because he's been spending too much time in the Room with me. And I know he hasn't done his Potions ingredient analysis for tomorrow yet, but he was going to keep training tonight anyway."

"Have you done yours?" Padfoot asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "This afternoon. History of Magic's all that's letting me stay on top of homework at the moment, I swear."

"What was Ron doing in History of Magic?"

"Transfiguration. He's slower at that than I am." Padfoot nodded understandingly. "Hermione's disappointed in him for not being more focused on his homework, which is bad because of the Ball, so Ron's been putting that off too." It was the first time Harry'd mentioned Ron's secret to anyone - he himself was equally curious and keen to keep out of it - but Padfoot didn't look at all surprised. Harry filed that away for consideration later. "And Draco's training just as hard as the rest of us, even though he's not actually competing, and he's still visiting Snape a lot, and there's whatever's going on with Mr Malfoy, which I don't know much about because he thinks I have enough to deal with." Now that he'd started talking, he didn't seem able to stop. "And Hermione's on top of all her work, but I think maybe she's not doing as well as she'd like to because she's spending a lot of her spare time in the library, and she's smelling guilty a lot, like she keeps catching herself thinking something she thinks she shouldn't. I think she's thinking she'd rather be somewhere else, or doing her own work, rather than stuck with me."

Padfoot said nothing.

"And Ginny- she's- third years have less work than we do, and she knows some of it already because of Riddle's diary, so she should be handling all this better than anyone, but she's not. She's- I think she's using a lot of Riddle's memories while we're training, and it's- not good for her." Harry couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled or laughed, at least while she was around him.

"And you?"

"What about me?" Harry asked. He unwrapped the chocolate frog Padfoot had given him and took a bite, idly turning over the card. Bagman grinned boyishly back at him, dressed in Wasps robes, and Harry set the rest of the frog and the card on the arm of the couch, appetite gone. He turned the butterbeer over in his hand, not opening it, but simply watching the bubbles race from one side of the bottle to the other.

"How are you?"

"Tired," Harry said. He set the butterbeer aside too. Harry'd been sleepier before, could remember days after nights disturbed by dreams or nights where he'd lain awake to avoid them, but he couldn't remember ever having been so worn down before. Being a Champion and having to prepare for the task (or whatever Voldemort might try during it) didn't mean he was exempt from his school work, or his homework. He was going to bed late, getting up early, and trying to pack too much into the waking hours in between. "I want this year over. I- I'm sort of used to the idea of the prophecy, and Voldemort, but that's enough to deal with on its own. And being a Champion, even though I don't care about the Tournament- It'd be hard enough without the threat of whatever Voldemort's got planned. I- I don't want to do both. I can't do both. But I can't just opt out - of the prophecy, or the Tournament - so I just sort of have to." Harry swallowed, throat feeling thick. "And it's- that and it's everyone else struggling, and it's the waiting, because I'm not good at that, I'm good at doing, but this whole year's just been waiting and preparing and not knowing, and-" He cleared his throat, hoping Padfoot hadn't heard his voice crack. "-it's- it's a bit much, at the moment-"

"It is," Padfoot said. "It's too much, and it's not fair, and I'm so, so sorry-"

"'s not your fault," Harry mumbled into his shoulder.

They were silent after that. Padfoot hadn't had solutions to any of the worries and frustrations he'd voiced, but he'd listened and understood, and that was enough to make Harry feel a little better. He was safe - at least for the moment - and warm beside Padfoot, and knowing that training was done for the night meant he could relax. Without really meaning to, he started to sink a little deeper into the couch and lean a little more heavily against Padfoot, started to feel his eyelids droop. Padfoot's scent was fond, and Harry felt him remove Harry's glasses, heard him place them on the side table. Harry didn't even have it in him to protest.

"I've thought about leaving," Padfoot said quietly. "Of taking you and just disappearing - we've done it before. We could hide in a muggle area, set up a new Fidelius Charm, I know enough to homeschool you…"

Harry let himself imagine what it might be like if they did, but only for a few moments.

"We can't," Harry said, without opening his eyes.

"I know," Padfoot sighed. Harry heard him, but explained why anyway, because he felt like he needed the reminder as much as Padfoot did; it was not the first time that Padfoot had suggested pulling him out of school for his own safety, but it was the first time Harry had been seriously, genuinely tempted:

"There's the magical contract," he mumbled, "n' the prophecy-"

"-yes, and the friends who'd be used as bait to lure us out, or tortured into giving up our location, the worry and guilt we'd feel over that, and the fact that we'd be looking over our shoulders the whole time - more than we are now, even - waiting for Death Eaters to show up on the doorstep. We'd have to wear disguises every time we left the house - if we left the house much at all... I've given it a lot of thought. I know we can't. Doesn't stop me wishing we could..."

If Padfoot had any more to say on the matter, Harry was no longer awake to hear it.


Harry awoke on Padfoot's couch - with Padfoot draped in a black, snoring mass over his legs - to find he'd slept through breakfast and half of double-Transfiguration. His panic had faded quickly; Padfoot had a free lesson first up and though he knew Harry didn't, had let Harry sleep. Between the note Padfoot had given him and the fact that he'd transfigured his ladybug into a ruby on the first try when he finally made it into the lesson, McGonagall hadn't minded much. Even if she had, Harry might not have been too bothered; after a decent night's sleep and a sleep-in, he felt better than he had in weeks.

Things were perfectly civil between him and the others but there was an expectant undercurrent that he knew meant they wanted to discuss last night with him, but the day conspired to make that impossible;

Ron had had to stay behind through the break with Neville, and Hannah Abbott to practice the Coralloachatus spell under McGonagall's direct supervision. Hermione had headed off to Muggle Studies after that, and Harry and Draco to Arithmancy, and then they'd had a quiz in Charms which meant there was no chance to talk. An incident involving Peeves, a moving staircase, and an almost unfathomable amount of blue slime meant they'd only had time to grab sandwiches from the Great Hall (and had to spend the rest of the lunch hour trekking to Gryffindor to shower and change robes instead of sitting down to eat), and then Harry, Ron, and Draco had gone to Divination while Hermione had Ancient Runes. Trelawney had been so caught up in her predictions of a tragic end to the Tournament that they'd cut it very fine indeed getting to Potions, and couldn't get seats together.

As such, Harry was surprised when Draco waved him on when Snape dismissed them - clearly intending to stay behind - and even more surprised when he reached Ron and Hermione's table, only to have Ron give Harry a smile that was almost half-grimace, swing his bag over his shoulder, and go to catch up with Seamus, Dean, and Neville. Harry, suddenly worried he'd been misreading the situation all day, made to follow but Hermione caught his arm, gave it a pat, and linked it with hers.

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" she said, with a small smile. He gave Ron's retreating back one last look, then allowed Hermione to steer him down the dungeon corridor that would eventually spit them out near the kitchens.

"I- but Ron-"

"Ron's fine," Hermione said, fondly exasperated. "Better than he probably deserves, even, because he was expecting a T for his homework, but now he'll probably do all right. You, on the other hand..." She gave him a pointed look, one that was somehow admiring and unimpressed all at once.

"So he handed it in, then?" Harry asked, pleased.

"Snape took it before he could decide." She sighed. "It's a nice gesture, Harry, but Ron needs to do his own work-"

"How can he, if he's too busy helping me get ready for the Tournament?" Harry asked.

"The rest of us have managed just fine." Harry said nothing. They walked in silence for a few moments, then Hermione said, "When did you even have the chance to switch them without him knowing?"

"Divination," Harry said. "I think Draco saw, but he didn't say anything." Hermione pursed her lips. "Look," Harry said, tugging her to a halt, "if it wasn't for me and the Tournament, Ron would've got it done. And taking a T for him's the least I can do, when he's going to be facing the second task for me. I'd do the same for you, 'cept you'd probably do worse if I swapped my homework for yours."

"Yes, please don't," Hermione said, but she let out a quiet laugh. Harry grinned. "I- I can't actually speak for Ron, but I can speak for me and I think he'd agree; you don't have to repay us for the second task. We're with you, Harry, in this and anything else that pops up."

"It's a lot to ask-"

"You didn't ask," she said smartly. "We offered. You're our friend-"

"I'm not sure I've been a very good one lately," Harry said. "And just because you offered doesn't mean you can't change your mind." Hermione scowled and opened her mouth to argue, but Harry swallowed and said, "I know you've been wishing you could be somewhere else. I-" He gestured vaguely to his nose.

Hermione's scowl vanished immediately. It was replaced, momentarily, by a startled look, and that, in turn, was replaced by horror.

"No!" she said. "No, Harry, it's not-"

"It's okay," he said. "I don't- You're allowed to want to do other things, and I- Merlin, Hermione, I'd pull out of the Tournament in a second if I could, I'm the last person that's going to hold it against you if-"

"It's not that at all!" Hermione said. He had a moment to register that she looked both miserable and embarrassed, and then she was untangling their arms so she could hug him. "You've been thinking…? Oh, Harry, no, I'm so sorry-" She was, he could smell that she was genuine. He could only stand there, patting her back, confused. "It's- not- I'm- it's just that I'm- I'm seeing someone." Hermione pulled back, her cheeks scarlet.

"You- what- Really?" Hermione looked a little offended. "Not- I didn't mean it like that," Harry hastened to add, and her expression warmed again, "I just- Since when? Who?"

"A few weeks," Hermione said, still looking embarrassed. "And… um… Viktor."

"Viktor who?" Harry asked.

"Krum." Harry blinked.

"Krum, like- Dumstrang Champion, Bulgarian Seeker Krum?"

"Yes," Hermione said, chin starting to lift defiantly. "That Krum." He stared at her, remembering the odd looks he'd caught her giving Krum and his fanbase at various points that term. Hermione clearly misinterpreted his considering silence and her confidence faded: "I- you're not mad are you?"

"Mad?"

"He's- well, you're competing against each other-"

"I don't care about winning the Tournament," Harry reminded her. "And even if I did, what's that got to do with you and him?" A shy smile spread across Hermione's face. A thought occurred to Harry a moment later. "Does Ron know?" And then, realising he was singling Ron out, he added, "Or Draco?"

"I've only told Ginny. And… well, now you too."

"You told Ginny before me?" Harry asked, distracted; Ron didn't know, which meant Harry needed to find him and talk to him before Ron tried to ask Hermione to the Ball.

"Of course I did, you're hopeless," Hermione said, teasing. She bit her lip. "And- well, I thought you might make fun of me, and you didn't seem all that interested in the Ball-"

"Yeah, but it's obviously important to you," Harry said, and put thoughts of Ron aside for the moment, because this, right now, was about Hermione.

"I- yes," Hermione said, looking embarrassed again. "I feel a bit silly for thinking so, with everything else that's going on, though..." And that explained the guilt Harry'd been smelling on her lately.

"Don't," Harry said. She must have heard the relief in his voice, relief that she wasn't secretly resentful of having to help him, relief that they were all right, because she smiled. "You're allowed to be excited." He grinned and gave her a gentle nudge in the side. "Just as long as I'm still your favourite Champion."

"Of course," Hermione said, returning the grin. Her expression softened, went embarrassed again. "It's- it's actually really nice to have you know. I was so worried about what you'd think..." Harry rolled his eyes and put his arm around her shoulders.

"We've been friends for how long…?"

"Yes, I know," Hermione said, and Harry could almost hear her eyes rolling. She laid her head against his shoulder, scent more relaxed than it had been for several weeks. "He's really lovely, Harry."

"Do I have to warn him about what happens if he stops being lovely?" Harry asked. Hermione poked him in the side, scowling:

"Don't be such a boy."

"I'm serious," Harry said, twisting away from her with a laugh. "He might not have worked out how terrifying you can be, and I feel obliged to let him know what he's risking if he turns out to be a prat."

"Oh, stop it!" Hermione said, but she was laughing and smelled a little pleased. "I- I don't suppose you've worked out who you're going to take?"

"No," Harry said. "I was going to ask you as friends, but that's obviously not an option anymore." And hadn't been for a few weeks, but he wasn't going to say that. He smiled to show her he didn't mind.

"Well," Hermione said reasonably, "there are plenty of other friends you could take." Harry had reached that conclusion in Divination - really, it was remarkable what a good night's sleep could do for his ability to think rationally - and had resolved to ask Ginny over dinner. "Not Ginny, because she's going with Neville-" Harry groaned, but waved Hermione's curious look away. "-and Lavender's with Seamus, but Parvati doesn't have a date yet. Or there's Demelza in Ginny's year."

"They're not really friends though," Harry said. "Not the way you and Ginny are."

"Ginny and I are really your only female friends," Hermione said frankly.

"I have other friends that are girls," Harry protested. "I- there's the Quidditch girls."

"Katie's going with Dean," Hermione said. "And Angelina's with Fred and I don't know about Alicia, but-"

"She's a bit old for me," Harry sighed. "Who else?"

"I'm sure Romilda Vane would go with you." Hermione gave him a sly smile and he gave her a good-natured shove. "Or Viktor might know someone." Merlin help him, she looked and smelled serious now. "We could set you up on a blind date - no one's going to object to going with a Champion, and it's only one night-"

"No," Harry said firmly, imagining a faceless girl morphing into Wormtail, or another Death Eater, or a Prophet reporter like Skeeter. "No blind dates."

"All right, but that doesn't leave you with many options," Hermione said. "You could ask Dora? She can make herself look our age, so you wouldn't have to worry about her standing out."

"I reckon Moony'd be a bit put out," Harry said, laughing. "Maybe she'd let me take Stella, though - that'd be a brilliant excuse not to dance."

"Honestly, Harry." Hermione rolled her eyes. "What about- Never mind."

"Who?"

"No-"

"Who?"

"Cho," Hermione said. "But then I remembered she's already going with- someone."

"Yeah, Cedric."

"Oh, so you know?" Hermione sagged with relief. A thought struck him.

"You know who I could take, though," he said. "Luna." Hermione snorted, then sobered when she realised her was being serious.

"Well," she said, "she'd certainly be interesting company. And I doubt anyone else will have asked her." Harry thought she was probably right about that last, but then again, with his luck…

"I should find her." He fished the Map out of his bag and scanned it for Luna's name.

"You don't want to think on it a bit longer?" Hermione asked.

"I like Luna, we're friends." Harry spied Luna's name outside the Charms classroom with Ginny's, Colin's, and Vivienne Greengrass'. "And if I do it now, then it's done and I don't have to worry about it anymore."

"Can't fault you there," she said.

They parted ways on the second floor, Hermione to join Ron upstairs and see if she could help him with the Transfiguration essay he was desperately trying to finish before dinner, and Harry to find Luna.

Ginny noticed him first and gave him a concerned, curious look, even as she began to excuse herself from her yearmates.

"No, stay," he said to her, nodding at the others in greeting. Colin beamed. "I was actually hoping to talk to Luna." Ginny looked even more curious now, though the concern was mostly gone.

"Am I in trouble?" Luna asked, cocking her head.

"No, no trouble."

"Oh, good. Because last time anyone went out of their way to speak to me was Professor Snape, and that was to say I wasn't allowed to wear my dirigible plums in Potions anymore."

"They fell in and made your cauldron explode, Luna," Greengrass said, and Harry could smell that she agreed with Snape.

"Yes, that was unfortunate," Luna mused. "Although I had no idea that combining plums with a Wide-eye Potion would have such a destructive effect but I do now, so it was still a very educational lesson. And Daddy's going to put a piece about it in the Quibbler, for readers that are interested in potion-making." She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I don't suppose that's what you wanted to talk about, though, is it?"

"Er, no," Harry said. "I wanted to ask you about the Yule Ball-" Ginny arched an eyebrow, but then a slow smile spread across her face. "-and if you're going with anyone."

"No, I'm not," Luna said, tilting her head.

"Great!" Harry said, relieved. "Did you- would you want to go with me?"

"Ooh, good question," Luna said seriously. She tapped her fingers on her chin. "It's hard to say, when this is the first time I've been asked to give it any thought." Luna considered him for a long moment, and Harry tried not to fidget. Ginny's scent was far too amused, and she lingered even when Greengrass said something about the library and towed Colin away. "I'm afraid I don't fancy you, so I don't think I'd want to go on a date with you, but I would want to go with you as a friend." Luna paused, then nodded. "Is that a good enough answer?"

"Very detailed," Harry said, nodding; he'd been expecting a simple yes or no. "But it's a yes, right? As friends?"

"Yes, if you asked me as friends, I'd want to go."

"Luna," Ginny said, laughter in her voice, "I think that was Harry trying to ask you."

"Really?" Luna peered at Ginny, then at Harry, who felt his face heat. "And you really want to take me?" Luna's tone was surprised.

"As- as friends," Harry said, feeling the need to clarify. "But yeah, I do." He suddenly had an armful of Luna, who was hugging him with surprising strength.

"I'd be delighted to go with you," she said, beaming up at him.

"Great," he said, relieved.

"Thank you for asking me, Harry." She released him, scent thoughtful. "Although next time you might want to be clearer about asking literally instead of hypothetically, especially if Ginny's not around to explain what you mean."

"I-er- yeah, I'll remember that," Harry said, mouth twitching.

"I'll have to find something to wear," Luna said. "I wasn't expecting to go…" Harry smiled at the excitement building in her scent.

"We'll have a look in Hogsmeade this weekend," Ginny said. "I need to find something too." Luna beamed at her.

"I'm thinking gamboge," Luna said. "Or perhaps feldgrau. That's a very friendly colour, don't you think? And it goes with everything, which is always good."

"Er, sure," Harry said, though he had no clue what either of those colours were. Luna considered him, then seemed to realise he had no idea.

"I'll ask Dad what he thinks," she said, and Harry - having never met Mr Lovegood - wasn't sure if that was likely to be a good thing or not. "He's been to several balls." She nodded to herself, gave Harry another quick hug, then Ginny, and then drifted away, humming happily.

Harry watched Luna do a skip that turned into a pirouette that she aborted midway through so she could speak to a portrait.

"Hello, Tim," he heard her say. "Hello, Lady Abelone. I'm going to the Yule Ball, isn't that wonderful?" The portrait's occupants cheered and Luna smiled and drifted further down the corridor.

"That was a really nice thing to do, Harry," Ginny said. Harry watched Luna slip a little on her socked feet as she rounded the corner, and smiled.