"I can see Transfiguration's going well," Hermione said, and Ron jumped, knees bumping the coffee table. Guiltily, he picked up the quill he'd been staring so intently at, but Hermione only snorted, amused, and picked up his not-quite-finished essay, settling herself beside him on the couch.

"Harry all right?" Ron asked, looking over at the portrait hole, a little worried that he hadn't come in with her.

"Yes, he's all right. I think a night off did him some good." The night off had done them all some good, Ron thought, though Harry could have just said they were having a night off, rather than tried to send them away.

"So where is he?" he asked.

"He won't be far off, I don't think - he just needed to speak with Luna." Hermione held out a hand and Ron passed her his quill. She scratched something out and made a neat little note above it. "He's asking her to the Ball."

"All right…" Ron had several questions about that - mainly Since when? Luna, really? - but pushed them aside; for one, he'd probably get better answers out of Harry, but for two, he knew a conversational segue when he heard one, and this was one he'd been waiting for for a while now. "Speaking of the Ball," he said, and summoned his courage back when it tried to scuttle away, "I was thinking we could maybe… er... go together?" His cheeks and ears were red, he could feel it. Hermione had gone very still behind his essay. "Like- you and me. If you wanted?"

"Oh." Hermione's shoulders came up and she did her best to hide behind Ron's essay, which meant his stomach had already settled somewhere near his toes by the time she said, "I'm actually already going with someone, Ron."

He hadn't expected it to feel it so strongly. It didn't hurt, exactly, but he'd taken a hard-thrown Quaffle to the chest before and it had left him with the same, winded, vaguely bruised feeling as now.

"Oh- yeah, that's-" He'd waited for the right moment to ask so he could be sure she'd say yes - Shouldn't have waited, he told himself angrily - but now, he realised, he'd never seriously expected she'd say no. Ron cleared his throat and tried not to be awkward about it. "That's nice. Who-?"

"Viktor," Hermione said, giving him a nervous look over the essay. "Krum."

"Krum?!" Ron asked, astonished. Hermione shushed him and Ron lowered his voice as much as he could manage. "You're going to the Ball with Krum?!"

"Is that so hard to believe?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"A bit, yeah," he said honestly. "You don't even like Quidditch."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Hermione sniffed. She circled something on Ron's essay with a bit more force than was probably necessary.

"It's got loads to do with it - he's a World Cup level Quidditch player!"

"He has other interests," Hermione snapped, setting the essay down in her lap. "And frankly, I think that's not as much your issue as the fact that I've said no."

"We're better friends," Ron mumbled.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, softening a little. "We are. But I spend a lot of time with you, and with the others, and I- I want more from the Ball than it to be more of the same."

"I- it wouldn't be exactly the same," Ron said. "It'd be different. Y'know. Us."

"It would be the same," she said. "It'd be me agreeing to do you a favour-"

"A favour?" Ron repeated, and felt his ears and face heat again, with an angry sort of embarrassment, because he knew he wasn't Krum or Diggory but he didn't think it was fair of her to suggest he was nothing more than a charity case. Or to say she was so much better than he was. She was, even with her flaws, but it stung that she so clearly thought so.

"Yes, a favour," Hermione said exasperatedly, "at the last minute because you weren't as organised and proactive as you ought to have been." Hermione tapped the essay. "Again."

"It's not last minute," Ron said, bristling. "And I wasn't disorganised, it just took me a while to work up to it. Apparently we can't all be as brave as Krum." Hermione stared at him as he snatched his essay back and stomped away.

The Room was able to provide him with a new quill and a copy of the book he needed to finish his essay - which he did, without including any of Hermione's corrections - so by the time dinner rolled around he'd moved on from that and had worked off some of his embarrassment and frustration on a practice dummy.

If any of the others had come by, the Room had followed his instructions and kept them out, so he headed down to dinner alone and settled himself with the twins and their friends.

Once they'd greeted him they pretty much ignored him in favour of listening to Fleur's story of being asked to the Ball by a particularly bold first year. Under normal circumstances it might have been funny, but it was a bit too close to home for Ron to laugh.

"There you are!" Harry said, squeezing into the space between Ron and Fred. A night off really had done him some good. Fleur stuck her nose in the air, scowling. "I thought you and Hermione'd both be in the common room, and maybe even Draco, but you weren't. I-" He looked at Ron, blinked, and sobered almost immediately. "Hermione said you were all right after Potions…?" He looked worried and - oddly - guilty.

"I was," Ron muttered, pushing a roast potato around his plate.

"But you're not now." It wasn't a question, and Harry leaned against Ron to push him further down the bench. It was only when the two of them were sitting side by side, a good two feet from anyone else that Ron realised he hadn't done it so he had more room, but so the twins wouldn't overhear them. Harry slid Ron's plate and goblet over. "I didn't mean to be ungrateful last night, really, I just-"

"Hermione said no," Ron said, shrugging, before Harry could work himself up over a sense of misplaced guilt.

Harry looked stricken.

"Just now?" he asked.

"Hour ago, maybe." Ron poked at his potato again. "'s'not a big deal."

"I was going to tell you- well, now," Harry said, expression a mix of misery and chagrin. "She told me after Potions and I was going to tell you, I swear." Ron waved a hand; bad timing seemed to be the theme of the evening. "Is- is that why she's not down here?"

"Probably," Ron said. "She probably thinks she's doing me another favour." He dropped his fork onto the table. Harry looked worried and uncomfortable. "It's fine, it's not a big deal." Ron started to load Harry's plate since he hadn't made any effort to do so himself, and Ron didn't want to be the one to undo the liveliness last night had restored in him.

"You know," Harry said, in a mild tone that reminded Ron of Remus, "you're allowed to lean on us- well, me, I guess, since the others aren't here - too. You can be- not fine." Ron grunted and turned to offer Harry the plate, only to find Harry was holding out his fork with a challenging expression on his face. Ron's mouth twitched and they swapped.

"So, Luna?" Ron asked, as they ate; he desperately wanted to talk about something that wasn't Hermione, but was enjoying Harry being something other than grim and stoic too much to bring up what they might be working on in the Room later.

"Yeah, Luna." Harry grinned. "Figured it'd be fun."

"Do you- y'know… fancy her?"

"No!" Harry said, eyes widening. "No, we're just going as friends." His mouth twitched around a forkful of shepherd's pie. "Probably for the best, too, because she told me she wouldn't want to go otherwise."

"It was hilarious." Ginny sat down opposite them, with Hermione in tow. Ron glanced at Hermione who was pink cheeked and biting her lip and very resolutely not looking at him. He resolved not to look at her either, but Harry looked between them both and wrinkled his nose, expression back to uncomfortable.

"Sorry," Ron muttered, too low for anyone else to be able to hear. Harry's mouth twitched down.

"So, I take it Draco's with Snape?" Ginny said with so much forced cheer that she'd clearly heard what had happened from Hermione, and decided it was up to her to force things to be normal.

"Yeah," Harry said, giving her an odd look. "I told you that already-" He twitched and Ginny gave him a sharp look; Ron suspected she'd kicked him under the table. "Er… yeah. He is."

"I s'pose he'll eat in his own time, then, and come and find us?"

"Yeah, probably," Harry said. "I was thinking we could work on non-verbal stuff today? I talked to Padfoot about it this morning over breakfast and he gave me some pointers."

"I'm in," Ron said.

"Have you finished your essay?" Hermione asked tone disapproving and expression skeptical.

"Yes, actually," Ron said, bristling. "All by myself as well, because I figure that's better than being a charity case." He pushed away from the table. "See you upstairs," he muttered, leaving Hermione looking embarrassed and unhappy, Ginny staring at him with raised eyebrows, and Harry looking between them.


"Er… Fairy floss?"

The wall twisted aside to become a winding staircase and Ron stepped onto it, nervous. Harry'd been to Dumbledore's office plenty of times and assured him it was no big deal, but it was a first for Ron.

He knocked on the door at the top of the stairs and Dumbledore called for him to come inside.

There were a lot of people there; Ginny, Mum, Dad, Hermione - though she wasn't looking at him - Professor Sprout, an older Hufflepuff boy, and two adults Ron didn't know - maybe his parents?

"Thank you for joining us, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said.

"Hi," Ron said, and looked at Mum and Dad. They both smiled but they were serious smiles. He caught Ginny's eye but she lifted one shoulder ever so slightly in a shrug to say she wasn't sure what this was all about either.

On a perch on the other side of Dumbledore's desk, Fawkes crooned what Ron thought was a greeting.

"Can I…?" he asked Dumbledore, who smiled and gestured for him to go ahead. Ron approached the perch a little nervously; he'd only met Fawkes the once when he'd rescued Ron and Ginny from the Chamber, and even then Ron was fairly sure Fawkes had been there for Harry, not him. Fawkes craned his neck to rub his beak against Ron's offered hand, and Ron grinned, stroking the soft, strangely warm, red feathers on the bird's cheek.

There was another knock and the door opened to admit McGonagall and the Grangers, who were looking around with wide eyes.

"Now," Dumbledore said, once everyone's hellos had been said and they were all settled. "I imagine you've all worked out you're here to discuss the second Triwizard task." Hermione and the Hufflepuff both nodded. Hermione looked really tense, her hands white-knuckled on her lap. He wanted to reach around Ginny and squeeze her shoulder, or give her foot a nudge with his, or something, but he wasn't sure she'd welcome it. Ron's insides ached. "And more importantly, your potential involvement in it."

"Is there a problem with it," Ron asked, then added on a hasty, embarrassed, "sir? There's not any age restriction on it, and students from any school can be on Harry's team-"

"Quite true," Dumbledore agreed, smiling. "What is also true, however, is that underage students require their Headmaster's permission to compete - or Headmistress', as is the case for those from Beauxbatons - and your Headmaster - that is to say, me - is reluctant to give that permission without support from parents." Ron looked at Mum's serious, worried expression and felt his heart sink. "So, here we are." Dumbledore looked at the Grangers then. "Dr and Dr Granger, am I correct in assuming Hermione has told you about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"I- yes," Hermione's mum said, glancing at Hermione, who still looked tense. "I think so. That's the academic competition the other magical schools are here to take part in?"

"That's the one," Hermione said. Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged a subtle look, and Mum raised an eyebrow. The Hufflepuff boy's parents shared a glance too, but Dad was too busy staring at the small device holding keys and what looked like a plastic playing card with Hermione's dad's unmoving photograph. "It tests magical ability, intelligence, and ability to think under pressure. My friend Harry's one of the main competitors."

"And now you want to get involved?" Hermione's dad asked.

"Yes, I've been selected to join Harry's team-"

"Harry Potter?" whispered the Hufflepuff boy's mum, and he nodded.

"-with Ron and Ginny. I think it's a fantastic opportunity, really. I'll get to showcase everything I've been learning here at Hogwarts in front of potential employers like the Ministry of Magic, and in front of other students and educators from around Europe."

"And it's quite safe…?" Hermione's mum asked, biting her red-painted lip in a very Hermione-ish way.

"It's all being very closely supervised by staff from the competing schools and the Ministry of Magic," Hermione said, like she was reciting an answer from a textbook. Ron wondered if she'd prepared for this, or if she was making it up as she went. "I'm not sure what the task itself will be - it's meant to be a bit of a surprise - but if it's anything at all like the first one, we'll just be working to earn points from the judges. Last time Harry had to find and retrieve a golden egg-"

"That's all a bit Jack and the beanstalk, isn't it?" Hermione's mum said.

"Who's Jack?" Ron muttered to Ginny.

"Reckon beanstalk's an innuendo?" she whispered back, and he had to hide his surprised, snorting laugh in a cough.

"I suppose, though there weren't any angry giants or magic beans," Hermione said, which didn't make Jack's identity any clearer. She laughed and Ron wondered if anyone else could hear the nervous edge to it.

"David…?"

"I suppose the fact that we're here at all means you're confident enough in her to let her represent you?" Hermione's dad asked, looking at Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Miss Granger is one of our best and brightest," McGonagall said. Her tone was crisp but she wore a rare smile. "However, the fact remains that she is underage, and the Tournament is not without risks, so the decision ultimately falls to the pair of you-"

"Please can I compete?" Hermione said. Ron leaned forward to better see her; he'd never heard Hermione sound so- well, so like Ginny, trying to wheedle something she wanted out of Mum. "Please? It's such a fantastic opportunity." The Grangers exchanged a long, somewhat helpless look, then, finally, Hermione's mum nodded. "Oh, thank you!" Hermione said, leaping up to hug them. "Thank you, oh, this is so exciting!"

"You can write and tell us all about how you get on," Hermione's dad said, patting her on the back. "In the meantime, Minerva, if it's not too much trouble, we need to get back..."

"Of course," McGonagall said, standing. She looked troubled but only waved for the Grangers - Hermione included - to follow her out. Hermione grimaced at Ginny on her way, but didn't spare Ron a look.

"Wow," Ginny said in an undertone, as the door closed behind them. Mum was frowning after the Grangers, and Dumbledore wore a look just as troubled as McGonagall had.

"Muggles, I presume," the Hufflepuff boy's dad said. Dumbledore hummed in confirmation. "Thought so. Makes the girl's approach make a bit more sense. They'd probably panic a bit if she'd mentioned the dragons…"

"Wouldn't any responsible parent?" Mum asked, tone loaded. "I certainly would if it was my daughter going up against one-"

"They won't use the same thing twice, Mum," Ron said, at the same time as Ginny said, "Mum, Charlie goes up against dragons every day."

"Quiet, Ginny." Ginny obeyed, perhaps realising an argument wouldn't help her secure Mum's permission.

"You'll be in with Cedric, dear?" the Hufflepuff boy's mother asked into the silence.

"Aye, Mam," he said.

"What fun," she said, smiling. "Robert?"

"No issues on our end, Dumbledore," the boy's father said, clapping his son on the arm. "'S'long as we're able to come'n watch, o'course."

"Participants' families will be issued with tickets to the event," Dumbledore said. "Pomona…?"

"Stebbins knows what he's in for," she said.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said. "In that case, you're free to go, and I'll let the competition organisers know you're confirmed. Cliodhna, Robert, Patrick can walk you to the gate, or if you're in a hurry, I'm sure Pomona's Floo is available..." The four of them left, leaving only Dumbledore, Ron, Ginny, Mum, and Dad.

"So what d'you say, Mum, Dad?" Ron tried. "Reckon it's all right for me and Ginny to do this academic competition thing with Harry and Hermione?"

"Don't cheek me, Ronald Billius," Mum said warningly, though Dad looked amused. She turned on Dumbledore. "I don't think David and Pauline knew nearly enough to give their permission."

"Stebbins' parents know, though, and they still did," Ginny said.

"They don't know all of it," Mum said significantly.

"They might," Ron said, fairly. "Harry's warned Diggory, and he's probably decent enough to warn his mates."

"But have his mates warned their parents?" Dad asked mildly. "Our children certainly didn't warn us…" He gave them a pointed look.

"Figured you'd know," Ron muttered. "It was all in the papers…"

"It was also in the papers that Harry and Sirius are at odds and I know that's rubbish," Mum said. "And there was that horrible article about Remus. Really, it's impossible to know what to believe-"

"Obviously not because you've just said the stuff about Harry and Sirius and Remus was rubbish-" He fell silent under Mum's warning look.

"I've a good mind not to let you compete," she said finally, seriously.

"What?!" Ginny yelped.

"Because we didn't tell you-"

"Because it's incredibly dangerous," Mum said over the top of them both. "Because You-Know-Who and his followers have been pulling strings in it from the start and we don't know what they might be planning."

"Harry's in, though, and he-"

"Harry's in because he had no choice, and when I spoke to Sirius-"

"You spoke to Sirius?" Ron asked, surprised. "When?"

"It doesn't matter when," Mum snapped, but her cheeks were flushed. Ron looked at Dad but he wasn't meeting Ron's eyes. Ron stored that away to talk about with the others later. "What does matter is he said that if he'd had any say at all, Harry would most certainly not be competing. He also said he wouldn't blame us for deciding to keep you out of it."

"I've got to go-" Ginny kicked him. "We've got to go!"

"It's not safe," Mum said.

"Dad!?"

"It's not," he said quietly. "We understand why you want to go, Ron, Ginny, we do. And it's a lovely thing you're trying to do for Harry, but you need to think of yourselves too-"

"I am!" Ron said. "I'm thinking of how awful it'd be to have to sit in the audience again and not be able to help him or watch his back-"

"And what if you were hurt helping him or watching his back?" Dad asked, tone still calm. "Have you thought about what that would do to us? Have you thought about what that would do to Harry? We saw him in the hospital wing last year after Pettigrew had hurt you, and he was a mess. And we all saw him at St Mungo's after the World Cup before Hermione and Draco had been found-"

"You think I'd be any better if things were switched? Because I've been there too, when he stayed back in the Chamber. I've been there at the World Cup when you sent us away and he was still in the tent. If something happened to him-"

"He's not yours to protect, Ron," Dad said, frowning slightly.

"He is," Ron said. "Just like Ginny is, and Hermione is, and like the twins and the rest of you are. He's family. I know you care about him too. You let the twins enter to try to protect him-"

"Yes, but that- Fred and George- they're older-"

"Still underage," Ginny said.

"The whole point of getting their names in was to open up a conversation of how to get them - or any other underage entrant, like Harry - out!" Mum said. "And they weren't likely to be chosen - they only got a handful of O.W.L.s between them and the Goblet would have known that."

"The Goblet obviously doesn't care about O.W.L.s or Harry wouldn't have been chosen," Ginny said.

"Harry was the only entrant for his school," Mum replied. "O.W.L.s didn't matter for him because there was no one else to choose."

"And there's no one else for him to choose now," Ron said, trying to get the conversation back on track. "It's only students that can go in, and if he doesn't have us, who does he have?"

"Apparently he'll have Hermione," Mum said, looking troubled. "And then perhaps he can ask one of the older students-"

"Sure," Ginny said, "but can he trust them? You said it yourself - if Voldemort-" Mum squeaked and made a flapping movement at Ginny, and Dad twitched but Ron was unmoved. Dumbledore didn't respond either, but to look between Ron and Ginny with thoughtful eyes. "-and his lot are pulling strings, who's to say he couldn't send someone in to pretend to be that student, or Imperius them or something."

"It doesn't have to be a stranger; they could Imperius you," Mum said, and Ron's stomach sank. "Have you thought about that?"

"They can't," Ginny said. "I can fight it off." Ron stared at her and she gave him an even look. "When I heard the fourth years had done it, I stuck around after one of my lessons and asked Sirius to give me a go. Threw it first try."

"You said you couldn't bear if he was hurt, Ronnie - what if it was you that was made to do it?" Mum's voice wavered.

"Harry's noticed and pulled him out of it before," Ginny said, perhaps realising Ron couldn't find his voice, couldn't find an argument. "Down in the Chamber."

"And if he didn't notice?" Dad asked gently. "There'll be a lot going on-"

"Then I've had to learn to live with myself after hurting people, so I'm sure I could talk Ron through how to do it." Her tone was light, pleasant, but her eyes were hard. Mum gaped at her, and Dad made a small gesture like he wanted to reach out and pull her into a hug; Ron was fairly sure it was the most blatant she'd been about her first year with them, ever.

There was silence in the office, but for the soft whirring of silvery trinkets that reminded Ron of Bill's room, and the rustle of feathers as Fawkes adjusted himself on his perch.

"We just want to keep you safe," Mum whispered at last.

"You can't," Ginny said flatly. Ron elbowed her.

"Not for sure, not every time," Ron added, with a forced smile, "but they say there's safety in numbers, and four's twice as many as two. And maybe Harry can be a bit of a danger maggot-" At everyone's blank looks, he nodded at Dad. "You know, those little black rocks that muggles have that…?" He gestured pressing his hands together.

"Oh! Magnets!"

"Right," Ron said. "Magnet, then. But he always gets out of it. And so do we. He's never left us behind-"

"Seems like it's always him getting us out and getting stuck himself, actually," Ginny said.

"This once," Mum said, so sternly and angrily that it took Ron a moment to realise she was agreeing. "And only because you make a good case for being the best ones to go. And you're to practice. You tell Sirius I've said he's to help you with anything you need, since you'll be going into danger for Harry."

"He already is, Mum," Ginny said.

"Good! And if something like this comes up again, and someone of age can go instead, then you're not to even entertain the idea of getting involved, you're to leave it to the adul- Oh!" Ron had swept her up in a hug and she let out a trembling breath, then patted his cheek.

"Thanks," he said, lifting his arm so Ginny could get in on the hug too. Dad came around to squeeze Ron's shoulder. "I- I don't want to push my luck asking for more things when you've just agreed to this-" Mum drew back, expression fierce and just daring him. "-but I don't suppose you could knit us more jumpers? If we're going to be a team, we should look the part."

Mum pulled him back into a hug so tight Ron almost feared for his ribs.