Poor Dumbledore – home truths forced down your throat must taste a bit like crow? I won't say poor Snape. He brought that crap on himself. On with the next part! Last? Haven't broken it all down yet. I think last. (9)

~~ this is a scene break ~~

Nagini swam through the grasses of the meadow surrounding the house where her "Master" was. More and more she remembered her old life, when she had legs that she walked on, arms that she embraced with.

Once upon a time, she had been naught more than an animagus. Her inner snake was just a form that she could transform into at will. But the time would come, she knew, where the inner beast would overtake her human mind.

She had been cursed, a maledictus, from her mother's line. The curse could would be passed to any female in the line. It passed from mother to daughter. Her own mother had held to her humanity until Nagini had been in her twenties.

Nagini had not been as lucky as her mother. She could only thank fate that she had never given in to the pressure of the curse and borne children.

So it was that for decades she had become the snake, forgetting all of her humanity.

And then he had done it. He placed a piece of his own soul into her. The pain, the absolute terror that accompanied the implantation woke Nagini's human spirit. Her constant fury and agony caused her to become a killing machine. She hunted to inflict the torture she endured onto other creatures, just as the evil man she was forced to think of as master did.

But lately, there had been a change. More and more, she fought off the possession of this man who was more a beast than she had ever been. He had forced her to ingest human flesh! He, who knew what she was!

His depravity was boundless.

So long as the soul piece stayed within her, the pain caused her human consciousness and conscience to surface. Her awareness caused even more pain.

Nagini was fully in control now; something had been done to her Master, leaving him brooding in his manor. The soul piece that connected to him was quiet; the pain was minimal. She would go sun herself now, on the warm, dark metal beams. Winter was coming, these warm days would be more sparse as the brutal, ugly season descended upon the Isles. It would be a comfort to feel the heat sink into her body from both sides one last time before the great dark.

When the metal below her began to vibrate, she ignored it. When the loud noise came, the soul piece commanded her to move, but she suppressed it.

When the locomotive sliced her body into three pieces, oblivion called, and she welcomed it. The curse was fulfilled.

And Tom Riddle was, once again, mortal.

~ ~ this is a scene change ~ ~

Ron Weasley was trying to get used to the new normal. Harry and Hermione were, once again, missing from the common room. Gryffindor had victory snatched from their hands by Hufflepuff because Ginny got beaten to the snitch. If Harry had just got Ginny a better broom… but no. Ron had several great saves (and only let in three goals from Hufflepuff – He'd challenge Wood to do better!), but where were the accolades? The rest of the team had commiserated, but Harry, who was supposedly going to be captain this year? Didn't even show for the game.

When Ron had made keeper, barely, over Cormac McLaggan, had either of his former best friends been there to congratulate him? Of course, the potions were gone, and his Mum and Dad's spells on Harry had probably been cancelled, but surely their entire friendship couldn't have been based on that?

Ron knew it was Granger that was keeping Potter away. She ruined every damn thing. She kept the money and manor that should have come to his mum. She showed up every real wizard in the castle in classes even though she was practically muggleborn. She was a swot and she'd converted his best mate into being just like her.

Harry wasn't up for quidditch, for flying, or for adventures anymore. He even kept his stuff all locked down so Ron couldn't use the cloak and map to prove that slimy snake Malfoy was up to no good. Ron knew he was, and if he'd just been able to prove it, he was sure Harry would be back to his normal self, listening to Ron and slacking off in class and pissing all over Malfoy. But other than squibbing the greasy git (and that had been a thing of beauty even if it'd been wicked scary), Harry'd been boring. Just like Hermione.

If he didn't know she was frigid (wouldn't even let Krum heft a quaffle, from what he heard), he'd swear Harry was pussy whipped.

Harry needed to see what real girls could offer. Just now, Ron had Lav snuggled next to him, talking about some nonsense. But she'd given him a good snog in a broom closet the night before – that almost made up for the loss of the match. And she had majestic quaffles. He grinned and drooled a little, just looking down at them. Her jumper didn't make him have to imagine much, except what they'd feel like… what they'd taste like.

He wondered when he could get her in a broom closet again.

As his lust-fueled fantasies engaged his imagination, Hermione and Neville came into the common room. Back from rounds. Ron didn't miss rounds, but he did miss the authority (and the pocket change he got from selling things he confiscated.) When Granger saw him, with Lavender leaning in so close and chattering about Merlin knew what, he gave her his best smirk. He'd practiced it in the mirror and Lavender had told him it was hot. He almost chuckled because the swot sure looked pissed.

He just bet she was jealous. Ginny was so stupid. They didn't need to potion the bint. He'd play with Lavendar this term, maybe next. Granger would be so jealous by summer hols that she'd probably even let him split her snidget.

He heard muggle girls were easy. Maybe she was waiting for him, that's why she didn't give it up for Krum? Well, he'd be able to get her, so long as he kept the rest of the blokes away. Harry did a good job of that, too. No one wanted to mess with his best friend. By end of term, Hermione would be so jealous and worked up that she'd be his for the taking. Ron smiled just thinking about it.

Lavender leaned up and kissed him because he looked so cute when he smiled.

Ron missed Hermione coming back down from her dorm, her demon cat following her and going out the portrait hole. As she had her school bag, he'd have imagined she was going to study.

He wasn't quite correct in that assumption.

~~ this is a scene break ~~

Hermione and Crookshanks both strode to the study lounge feeling annoyed. That utter berk, cuddling up with Lavender but trying to eye flirt with her at the same time.

Then she got to the door and saw her Harry sitting there, his hair falling down over his eyes as he bent over his ledger. He'd met with Laird McDaniel earlier that day and was trying to make sense out of his estates finances. As though he didn't have enough on his plate.

It wouldn't be such a pressing duty if he hadn't taken his family rings… which he took to get her healed.

Of course, that had worked out for him, too, in the end. But he hadn't gone into it for himself. He was the most selfless person she knew. He needed to be selfish once in a while. She just then had the best idea.

She put her bag down and hid her smirk.

"Harry," she began.

"Hmm?" he asked, looking up, his eyes unfocused.

"Could you come with me? I need you to help me do something."

"Sure," he agreed, standing and stretching.

She bit her lip as she watched him. Turning before he could see the look in her eye, she darted out of the room. Harry followed, engaging the locking ward behind him. Crookshanks growled but curled up on his bed, waiting for his witch to come back.

"Hermione, where are we going?" He asked as he followed her down the stairs to another corridor.

"Oh, just over here…" She pulled open a broom cupboard door and pulled him in after her.

When the door closed, she pushed him against the side wall and rubbed her hands up his chest to gather in his hair. She pulled his head down to hers and started to kiss him.

After a few seconds, she pulled her lips away from his and started nibbling at his neck, her hands scratching back down his chest. He pulled her hips up to his and leaned his head back to the wall.

"Not that I'm com…plaining" he breathed out as she let her hands wander lower. His hips thrust gently against her. "Ahh, Hermione. But.. what?"

"You are too stressed. I'm too stressed. And you're so hot," she murmured before kissing him again. He lifted her higher, his trousers becoming uncomfortably tight against the seam of her jeans. He lifted her enough to bring his lips to the curve of her breast, just hinted at by her jumper.

She rocked against him.

They spent a few minutes necking before the signal for curfew warning sounded.

They had fifteen minutes to cool down.

Harry grinned at Hermione as she whipped out her wand and glamoured their lips to look normal. Of course, he had little Harry to get under control, but he should be almost there by the time they got back to the common room. They quietly closed the closet door as they hurriedly snuck back to their study lounge.

"I have to say," he grinned wickedly, "the cupboards at Hogwarts are a lot more spacious and comfortable than the cupboard the Dursleys used to keep me in."

Hermione huffed. "If you're trying to bring down my mood, talking about those foul people and their abuse of my boyfriend will certainly do it."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not going to let them get at me anymore. That cupboard burned with the rest of their 'normal' lives. And I'm pretty much loving my life right now."

"No matter what the headmaster thinks, I can't find it in me to be sorry about any of that," Hermione stated.

"No, me neither," Harry gathered his ledgers and books and put them in his bag. The two held hands as the slowly walked to the door and Crooks followed them. "So, seriously, what caused that? What can I do to make it happen again?"

She grinned wickedly. "I didn't lie. You've been so stressed. You're taking as heavy a class load as I am and you don't even fly anymore. You haven't since we left home."

"Flying at the Grange was great. I was going to fly here, I was. But the first weekend of term, Ron was after me about getting Ginny a broom to play on. And damn it, the tornado is mine! I don't care if Gryffindor lost because Gin Gin is on a school broom. If they knew I had this broom, they'd go complaining to their pal Albus and he'd be all 'you need to give away all your earthly things Harry.' Like I'm some kind of bleeding messiah. I'm just avoiding all that. I don't really have time, anyway."

Hermione gritted her teeth. Stupid Dumbledore. Stupid Weasleys. "You should have seen Ronald all over Lavender. I'm going to have to put up with her waxing poetic about Ron in the dorm. Gross."

She rolled her eyes as he chuckled. "Well, Ron is definitely a kiss and tell kind of guy. I bet I get more details, unwanted of course."

"Well, enough of them," Hermione stated with finality and stopped walking, forcing him to stop, too. "I'll tell you what," she said, turning to him and running her fingers through his tie. "I solemnly swear to spend at least a few minutes a week help you build better cupboard memories. Deal?"

He smiled down at her. "Oh, yes. That's a deal."

They came in through the portrait hole together, talking about a song they both remembered from primary school, it being so ubiquitous that even Harry had heard it enough to know it. They were laughing about what the children thought the lyrics were when they were fully in the common room.

"What are you guys laughing about?" Faye Dunbar asked.

"Mmm, we were talking about some music that was popular when we were little kids."

"Weird sisters or regular music?" Seamus asked. Dean laughed and Ginny glowered.

"Bananarama," Harry answered. "I always thought it was banananana," he admitted, shrugging self-deprecatingly.

"What kind of name is that for a band?" Lavender demanded.

"They weren't a band so much," Dean answered, "but a trio of girls who sang together."

"Like Celestina Warbeck?" Fay asked.

"Hmm… gonna go with no," Seamus said, then looked at Dean and the boys broke out into giggles. Harry grinned imaging Molly Weasley listening to muggle pop music.

"You should play some on your CD player, Harry," Dean said.

"Like I have a banananana CD!"

"You have that spice girls single that was all over the radio this summer," Seamus teased.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck as Hermione looked at him. "I bought a bunch of CD's. The seller talked me into a couple of singles. Some are good. That's… catchy I guess?"

"So's dragon pox, mate," Neville chided drily. When Seamus had played that song for them, he'd thought it was perhaps the worst thing he'd ever heard.

"You know I'm more of a Pearl Jam fan," Harry defended himself, thinking how he was, indeed, still alive.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "And that awful whiny Nirvana, too. Horrid American music."

"Hey, I love Radiohead and they're as British as the Queen Mother," Harry defended himself.

"And whiny as a fretful baby," Hermione stated decisively.

"You should try the Weird Sisters, you'd really like them," Ginny enthused, trying to get back into the conversation.

"They wouldn't be moody enough for this git," Ron teased. Everyone laughed. Harry wasn't very moody that year, and they all realized it just then.

Harry shrugged again, "I like what I like," he smiled at Hermione and Ginny got madder. She really had no idea what she could do to get between those two. "Anyway, I'm done for the night. Anyone up for a game of gobstones?"

"Me," said Faye and Harry went to play against her.

Hermione sat in a nearby chair, Crooks in her lap, watching the game. Eventually, it was lights out time, and she and Neville reminded everyone it was time to retire for the night. The boys went up to their dorm, Ron coming last as he gave Lavender a goodnight snog.

"Uggh, Romeo's going to be wanking tonight," Seamus complained.

"Silencing charm?" Neville asked.

"Undoubtedly," Dean answered and the four boys chuckled.

"I feel sorry for the elves," Harry opined.

"Why don't you have your own suite of rooms, Earl Gryffindor, sir," Seamus asked with a poncy bow. Everybody laughed.

"Honestly, the title is mostly empty. It's just – this was the family estate, so I can get the elves to do stuff for me if I want, and I can claim places like the study room. But Hogwarts rules are still in play, so you're all stuck with me."

"S'okay, mate. At least you bathe regularly," Neville said, giving Seamus the stink eye.

"What, ye don't like my manly smell?" Seamus asked then promptly turned and farted in Neville's general direction. "Saved that one for you, mate."

"God, what stinks?" Ron exclaimed as he came into the room.

"Seamus trumped cos he heard you was coming. Wanted to greet our king proper like," Dean joked.

"Maybe I should look into getting my own rooms," Harry groused then laughed.

The rest of the boys laughed with him, except, of course, Ron. Maybe it was because he'd missed most of the conversation. Maybe.

~~ this is a scene change ~~

Fall term continued on. Katie Bell was cursed on the first Hogsmeade weekend. Students were being withdrawn over fear of war, since Dumbledore was obviously critically wounded, but somehow, Hogwarts seemed less tense than the year before.

Harry supposed that said as much about Umbridge as anything could.

One snowy afternoon, some weeks before winter break, Harry and Hermione were sitting together on the couch in their room. The fire was blazing, Crooks was playing with a toy Harry had animated for him. Hedwig was asleep on her perch. Harry was reading his father's journal and wondering at how carefree his dad had been in the midst of a horrific war. (Harry'd started writing in his own magical journal that summer and he wondered if his own progeny would ever be somewhere in Hogwarts, reading the crap that had been his life.) Hermione was, once again, reading the Dagworth-Granger grimoire.

"Harry," she ventured, her voice full of curiosity and hope. "I think I've found something interesting. According to my so-many-greats-grandmother, magical power is tied to the blood. "

Harry shrugged. "That makes sense. Guess that's why so many are tied up in the 'pureblood' agenda."

"Hmm, well. Blood is a powerful magical medium. They'd wanted to find a way to make sure that blood didn't fall into the wrong hands, taking power away. Since blood can often be used in potions, this was a particular worry for my family. If someone got into their lab? Anyway. They developed a simple rite that will nullify your blood should someone use it improperly and you wish to recall it. Didn't you say Pettigrew used your blood?" At his nod, she continued. "I'll do more research, but the rite seems innocuous; you can only benefit from doing it."

He nodded but his brow was knitted. "Isn't there such a thing as blood prophecy?'

"You stuck in that class longer than I did," she said.

"Auguries, Hermione. They're prophecies. Blood. My blood… the prophecy… 'The auguries no longer hold but are cleansed.'"

She stiffened against him and turned. Studying his face solemnly, she asked softly, "Could it be that simple?"

He looked at the ritual as she held her grimoire for him. He looked through the requirements for the ritual and saw it was nothing out of his abilities (though he was glad he had planned on taking a ritual craft elective seventh year. This was fascinating!)

He didn't dare hope as he and Hermione had prepared the circle in the chamber of secrets. He kept his mind on his studies and other responsibilities as Dobby and Kreacher readied the ritual robe and incense. The night of the new moon (required for the ritual) was a bit more than a week before the winter break.

That Tuesday, at midnight, Harry began the chant. As he paced widdershins along the compass points, he felt a renewal of strength he hadn't realized he was missing.

When it was done, and all was quiet, he lowered his head in thanks. Cleaning up the circle, he and Hermione headed back to Gryffindor tower under the cloak. If there were any outcomes to the ritual, they only hoped they'd find out soon.

They found out sooner than they'd expected.

The next morning, a harried Professor McGonagall requested Harry accompany her to the hospital wing. There, in a curtained-off section, lay Albus Dumbledore.

He looked brittle and frail, His brilliant eyes were closed, and only a very slight elevation of his chest indicated he was even alive.

"Albus, you asked me to bring Mr. Potter," McGonagall gently spoke next to the patient's bed.

His eyes fluttered open and he focused on this student.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter, come, sit with me. Minerva, if you could put up a privacy shield for us?" The older woman nodded, worry never leaving her eyes as she backed out of the area.

"I've a confession and a request, Mr. Potter. As you know, when I was trying to end the threat of Tom's treasures, I was most heinously cursed... That curse, though slowed by Severus's efforts, has been eating through my magic and strength..." He paused to catch what breath he could and Harry felt anger deep within him as he suddenly knew what the Headmaster was about. "I simply desired to live as long as possible to defeat Tom. You must… understand." The long speech seemed to have taken most of Dumbledore's energy.

"What's this got to do with my blood?" Harry demanded, knowing his own ritual had to have caused this precipitous decline.

"I had… borrowed some of your blood after you were bitten by the basilisk, for study. You have more magic than you need, Harry. I was simply siphoning some of your prodigious power and vitality through a blood stone to bolster my own flagging resources. Surely you can see…"

"You were… stealing my magic? My very lifeforce? How does that not make you dark?!" Harry was quiet but outraged. The headmaster shrunk even more.

"You don't need all of your magic... You'll never reach your potential... Tom will kill you. That piece of him in you has to be destroyed before he can be destroyed. Once you are dead, he will be mortal, and someone can kill him. I need to be here…"

Harry's fury knew no bounds. He'd worked and worked on quieting his temper, but he'd think a saint would be angered by this revelation. Still, his rejoinder was in naught but a furious whisper.

"You kept me miserable. You stole from me, allowed me to be tortured, because you think I'm going to die? You bloody wanker. I told you, the healers pulled that sliver out of me. I've been healed."

"Still have Tom in you. You're still… a… parselmouth." Dumbledore was weak, and weakening more by the moment under Harry's obviously wrath.

"Remember, I had Dobby get back my parents' stuff, thief?" Harry's voice, though quiet, was coldly furious. "You couldn't read the Potter Grimoire, right? I mean, you stole my blood and made free with it, obviously, but you still couldn't read it? It's because it's written in Parsel. It's a Potter family gift, you great tosser." A widening of the headmaster's eyes was the only indication that he understood what Harry was saying. More missteps. These… unrecoverable.

"As for your prophecy? I've decided it's a bunch of codswollop. I don't have to do a damn thing, and between you, Fudge, Pomphrey, the Weasleys… I've decided I'm not going to do a damn thing. If you guys are supposed to be the good guys, I hope this bleeding society burns." Harry got up and walked away

Dumbledore's heart raced. No, no, no was all he could think. But he didn't have the energy or magic to call Harry back. In the next few hours, he would die, the entire time horrified on what his own machinations had wrought.

~ ~ this is a scene break ~ ~

Would Dumbledore be comforted knowing that his worry was for naught? With the horcruxes gone, this maneuver of Harry's had ended the dark lord, albeit quietly. As his body fell to pieces, most of the death eaters fell into coma: a dead-man's switch Voldemort had built in after his revivification that would render his servants weak for days. The unspeakable who had been in deep cover as a death eater (the unspeakables had Polyjuice that lasted for weeks) had watched through the autumn as Voldemort's power levels declined. The spy crystal in the headmaster of Hogwarts' office yielded information that Voldemort had made horcruxes, and all but one suspected horcrux had been destroyed. The snake, Nagini, had managed to kill herself on the train tracks near the Malfoy estate a few weeks before. The unspeakables were discussing how best to end the Voldemort threat when their plant reported through a communication mirror that Voldemort was no more. That spy was in the room when the maniac screamed at the heavens, railing against Potter as the body he'd manufactured from ritual fell to pieces.

Whatever Potter had done (and there were several theories, but no real evidence), it had ended the dark lord. The unspeakable reported to his superiors that the surrounding death eaters were down (and the one he had replaced was down also, although that man was being held deep in the bowels of the ministry), and they made moves to drain magic from all the death eaters using that same dark mark. There would be no coming back for the pureblood cause this time around. And the wards around the ministry were never stronger.

~ ~ this is a scene break ~ ~

It took Hermione several hours to calm Harry after his argument with Dumbledore. She raged internally at the absolute ineptitude of her former hero.

But Harry needed her go be calm. Dumbledore had been his hero, too, once upon a time.

The days before winter break were filled with news and happenings. At first, as word came that Dumbledore had passed, it seemed as though the bleakness would never end. But then there was a lightness in the air, despite the funeral preparations. Speculation arose when it became known that several marked death eaters had become squibs. Those in Azkaban passed quickly. There were even some Hogwarts students were among the newly squibbed, lending credence to the rumors. Ron was quite smug that his suspicions about Malfoy panned out.

The best rumor, though, was that Voldemort had fallen to the unspeakables. That no one refuted this raised spirits unimaginably, and indeed, Minister Bones made a statement within days that the death eater threat was gone. (She neither confirmed nor denied the speculation as to how it came about.)

There would be no war that yule.

Harry realized his ritual had done more than disable Dumbledore; it had killed Voldemort. The timing was too coincidental to be anything but causality. Both of the dark lords in his life were dead. He felt the weight of responsibility lift from his shoulders.

The night before winter break, the common room was almost festive, between the excitement of the holidays and the rumor of Voldemort's fall. Harry smiled at Hermione, who was talking to some first years about the Yule celebration at the castle, as he sat on a couch, waiting for her. Then he felt the slap on the back of his head.

"Saw you packed. Good to be going home for holidays. Mum's excited for you to come to the burrow." Ron, being Ron, had never noticed that Harry just didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

"I'm not going to the burrow," Harry answered

"What do you mean? Not going to the burrow? Ron said you weren't staying for holidays!" Ginny joined in the conversation as she sat across from Harry and Ron.

"I'm not. I'm going to Hermione's house," Harry angled his head toward Hermione, indicating with whom he preferred to spend his time.

"You spent all summer with them," Ron muttered mulishly

"Yes, I did. And I enjoyed every minute of it," He smiled and sat back into the cushions. "It's quiet and peaceful and I have Hermione's company as well that of her Dad and Mum. And we do all sorts of muggle things!"

Ron flinched at that, and Harry saw Neville, in a chair a few feet away, snort as he listened to the conversation.

"But you could enjoy the holiday with us," Ginny murmured in protest.

Ron nodded. "I know that Dad wanted to talk to you about a proposal." Ginny blushed.

Harry looked between the two of them. "What?

"Well, there's been some… with all of the death eaters getting squibbed and some of them even dying, there've been some of them dark families that want to tie themselves with light families. Mum and Dad are getting a lot of interest in Ginny."

"Daddy wants to ask you for a betrothal agreement," Ginny interrupted. "Just to protect me through school."

Harry raked his hand through his hair, and Hermione, noticing how flustered he was getting, started to make her way across the room to him.

"Look, this summer. You remember how hurt Hermione was?" Ron and Ginny both nodded and Neville looked grave, "She needed treatment. But, at the time, we thought she was muggleborn. I had to take Hermione into my family for a hospital to treat her. The easiest way to do that was a betrothal agreement." He smiled at the girl in question as she came and squished in next to him.

"Budge over," she whispered as Ginny looked on in dawning horror.

"You're betrothed?" Ginny screeched. Harry grimaced.

"Please do announce it to the school, Ginevra. I'm sure someone down in the Hufflepuff collective didn't quite hear you," Hermione snarked and Ginny had the grace to look a bit ashamed. They did have the attention of the entire common room now, though.

"Yes, we are betrothed," Harry confirmed.

"Do you know what that means?" Lavender interjected.

"Do you?" Harry rejoined quizzically. Lavender bit her lip and shook her head in the negative, joining her boyfriend on his chair by sitting on his lap. "All it means is that we promise to enter no contracts until we decide to either marry or dissolve our betrothal. If I'd had one of these before fourth year, I wouldn't have been entered into the triwiz. Cedric'd be alive." Sirius would be alive, Harry thought. But he had no regrets. He'd done the best he could at the time.

"It's why a lot of the old families have their kids in betrothals," Neville added.

"Are you in one?" Seamus asked

Neville nodded. "Since I was six years old. I imagine that the Potters didn't really have a chance to make one, since they were in hiding from before Harry was born and then Harry went to live with muggles. Only head of house or reagent for house can make them. Magical guardians can't."

Ginny seethed internally, wondering if the betrothal her father and the headmaster had tried to make between her and Harry had failed for this reason. Although her father was head of clan Weasley, Dumbledore wasn't head of Potter. And now, it would be so much more work to get him.

"Well, you don't need that anymore," Ginny tried to act as her mother would, stating what she wished to be truth in such a voice that no one would argue. "It's not as though anyone will be trying to get a contract with you, Hermione."

Harry raised an eyebrow and placed his hand on Hermione's thigh. "We might not need it, though you know that Hermione has fully inherited House Dagworth-Granger. It's not as though she's truly muggleborn. But even if we don't need it, we want it. Hermione and I have been dating since August."

Ron's ears started to turn red while Ginny's eyes started to tear up. Dean watched her reaction from a corner… his girlfriend, crying because another guy was taken. Guess that answered why they didn't ask him for the betrothal contract – not that he'd have wanted one with her.

"Ha! I win the pool!" Neville crowed and several people shook their heads as Seamus got up to get the kitty for the winner. August. Who would've believed?

"I don't believe a word of it," Lavender decried from her position glued to Won-won's chest. "You've never even snogged!"

"Some of us don't feel that being object lessons for firsties: 'sex-ed, what not to do'," Hermione snarked. Lavender blushed and lowered her head as the others laughed.

Ron had no idea he'd been insulted.

Parvati's narrowed eyes studied Potter and Granger. She'd known there was something there earlier in term. The two of them were thick as thieves, and always disappearing at odd times… But Lav had talked her out of it. No, no, Granger's just jealous. Harry wants Ginny, Ron said so!

This would be the last time she'd listen to Lavender so long as her friend dated that moron.

"Still, why didn't you tell anyone?" Parvati asked.

"It's funny," Hermione said, her hand now holding Harry's and entwining her fingers with his. Parvati's narrowed as she noticed the almost matching snake bracelets. Hermione continued, "we started this betrothal thing only because I needed the healing. I never would have agreed if he didn't need healing, too. It was only after we spent time together this summer that we decided to give dating a try. We decided to take it slow because so many people watch Harry all the time. We wanted something for just us." She smiled at him and he smiled back. It seemed like the room faded away from the two of them. Some of the younger years looked at the two obvious couples and, comparing them, got a good idea of just what could make a happy relationship.

"I still don't understand. If you just needed a contract for healing, why didn't you come to me? We'd have done the same, and Mum and Dad know more about the wizarding world than Harry does," Ron muttered, thinking of another missed opportunity and resenting Potter all the more.

"If I recall," Raising suddenly cold eyes to Ron, Hermione seethed, "you were off at St. Mungo's getting treated for your brilliant accio brains while I was being treated - or rather, not being treated - by a school mediwitch for the breath of life curse. Harry was the only one who seemed to want me to actually heal. Of course, that's the base truth, isn't it?"

Her voice was venom and her eyes glared darts of accusation. Ron paled and gulped a little, glad Lavender blocked him slightly from Hermione's ire. But that witch was not done.

"You were hoping I'd die. Your family had one last chance to get the Dagworth-Granger fortune through my death instead of through marriage. Well, tough luck. I've written my will now. You lot won't be seeing a knut, even if one of your schemes somehow ends with my death. And your potions won't get through, either. I test everything I ingest," here, she glanced over at Ginny, who was pale as death, "as does Harry. There is no way I'll ever subjugate myself to marriage with you, Ronald Weasley. You'd best start applying yourself in classes. This meal ticket has vanished." Hermione got up and stalked away. Her cat hissed at the ginger boy then followed his witch.

The common room was dead silent and then the murmuring began. Granger had just accused the Weasleys of trying to steal what was obviously her magical heritage. Well it wouldn't be the first time the Weasleys or Prewitts had been accused of being blood traitors, another added. Alyssa Wentworth, a contemporary of Ginny's, recalled the female Weasley bragging that her mother had apprenticed with Hector Dagworth-Granger and that the family had close ties there.

It was fortunate for the Weasleys that Yule break started so soon. There was no better place for gossip-mongering than Hogwarts, and by the time all the students came back to the school, the story, though juicy, was no longer the only thing students had to talk about. After all, Weasleys were known blood-traitors. There really wasn't anything new about them being up to their old tricks.

That new broom of Potter's, though… what was that?

Ron took little comfort at being bested by Harry yet again, even if this time it was only being the center of gossip.

Neither of the youngest Weasleys were able to date anymore through their last years at Hogwarts. The stories of betrayals and potionings, though they quickly passed through the grist-mill, would always hang in the students' minds as warning. As the new Headmaster, Cyril Oakmore, showed no favor to the red-headed clan, they spent their remaining years in abject anonymity.

Harry and Hermione, however, blossomed under the new school leadership and direction. They sailed (well, nervously sailed) through NEWTS and scored well enough to have their pick of fields available to them when they left Hogwarts. The betrothal stayed in place until they eventually married.

All was well.