A/N: Thanks to chem. prof for his beta work.

Chapter 5: Steps Forward & Backward

"Bloody terrific."

An angry, dissatisfied sound could be heard in one of the corridors near the dungeons. Harry was examining the Marauder's Map and not appreciating what he saw.

After gathering his wits after his conversations with Daphne, Harry had come to the conclusion he needed Hermione. He needed an intelligent mind, someone who would be able to find a way around an oath. Once he'd made certain he was still alone, he'd activated the map only to find Ron and Hermione still in the same unused classroom. The only difference was that Hermione was pacing in the room and Ron was stationary.

Harry leant back against the wall and sighed. Hermione and Ron don't even believe me about Malfoy anyway. This time I can't really rely on them.

I have no doubt he's a Death Eater. The way he jumped a mile when Madam Malkin tried to lift the sleeve on his left arm, and the clerk at Borgin & Burke's reaction to what was on there, is circumstantial evidence, yes, but I know Malfoy.

Then there was the question of how did Bellatrix and her two cohorts sneak onto the Hogwarts Express and remained hidden until they struck?

Someone on the inside was obviously aiding and abetting her. Malfoy's carriage was a little ways behind where Bellatrix initiated her attack. It would've been simple to create a little bit of distance between their carriages and then strike.

And let's not forget his reaction when I outright claimed he was a Death Eater. No denial. He was more surprised than anything else. But not once did he even try to deny it.

No, he's a Death Eater all right.

If Hermione was unavailable to him, there had to be sources he could peruse in the library. Harry shook his head at that. No, he needed a quicker answer than research would provide. It took moments for him to decide who he would ask.

Padma was no longer in her little hideaway. The map told him that. It also established that she was back in Ravenclaw's common room.

The locations of each house's common rooms were meant to be kept secret. However, Hogwarts wasn't a place where secrets could be kept for very long. The laxity in inter-house security, and the marvelous piece of magic that was the Marauder's Map, enabled Harry to know almost exactly where to go.

Almost was the operative word, in this instance, for Harry didn't know what was the catalyst was that opened the door, the password, or how long it might take for another Ravenclaw to pass by who would help.

After five minutes of fruitless searching and silent, except for his own footsteps, corridors, Harry decided to wait it out. He took a seat in the corridor he believed the entrance was and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift.

Fleur and Bill were to arrive on the weekend.

How am I going to convince Fleur – and Bill, too, I guess - to trust me over the Order? To be honest, there's not much I can offer them, or even much that they can do to help, at least at this stage. Perhaps I shouldn't have bothered her yet.


But I know I can't trust the Order. While they're working against Voldemort too, they're susceptible to the same faults as their leader – Dumbledore. He's kept a lot from me over the years, so of which he had no right to keep from me, no matter his good intentions. If I'm going to work with people, I want to be able to trust that they'll trust me and won't do what they think is best for me.

Hermione is someone I know will trust me. She's already made her mistake when she didn't tell me about the Firebolt. She's not the type to repeat the same mistakes.

Ron…

Three years ago, Harry wouldn't have questioned Ron's trustworthiness. But three years ago, Ron hadn't spent nearly two months claiming that he was some attention seeking cheat. That wasn't the actions of someone he could trust when things got messy.

More recent was his reaction to the attack on the Hogwarts Express. Ron hadn't expressed concern that Harry, Hermione and Neville were in danger. Instead, he'd expressed anger that he wasn't involved and, if Harry wasn't imagining things, reaping in the glory of defeating Bellatrix Lestrange.

The doubt that begun to plague his mind only increased as he contemplated his two friends in a relationship. There was only thing Harry was certain in this new situation: His friendship with Hermione was suffering.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" a serene voice cut through his thoughts. Harry looked up to see Luna smiling down at him, her blonde hair tied into a ponytail that lay across her right shoulder. She was carrying a book in one hand and, for some reason, her kooky glasses from the train.

Several questions passed through Harry's mind before he even considered answering. It was probably best that he didn't ask any. Luna's eccentricities could be a bit difficult and he wasn't in the mood.

"I've been waiting for a Ravenclaw to pass by." Harry replied. He looked her in the eye and added, "And unless I'm mistaken, you fit the criteria."

She laughed. Despite his mood, that made me him smile. It was good to see her laugh. Well, at least when it wasn't those loud ones. They were disconcerting.

"You're after Padma." It wasn't so much a question as a state of fact. Harry nodded. "I'll get her for you."

Without waiting for an answer, Luna was off down the corridor, skipping and humming to an odd tune. Harry sat in a state of silent amusement.

A few minutes passed before Padma came into view.

"Is everything all right, Harry?" Her tone indicated her worry. "Luna said you have been here for awhile."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How did… No, that's not relevant." He could ponder Luna's eccentricities another time. Harry offered a spot beside against the wall. "Here, take a seat."

Padma obliged, not quite close enough to touch him. Harry related the events of earlier to her.

She was in deep thought for several long moments. Harry swore he could sense her brain hurriedly deciphering the information that had been given, and formulating conclusions. She reminded him of Hermione in that way.

"I'm not sure I understand why you invited her in the first place." Padma stared at the opposite wall while she spoke. "But I don't believe she's working for Malfoy. At the same time, I don't believe she's working for us."

"Hermione vouches for her," said Harry slowly. "And I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for now. But the question remains: if she isn't in Malfoy's camp, why did she make an oath with him?"

"I can't answer that," replied Padma, shaking her head and looking up at Harry. "I don't know her. I can only assume she was either coerced or is playing both sides."

"If she were coerced, Malfoy – or Voldemort – would have to want something from her."

"Or her family." Padma added.

Harry stared at her. He hadn't thought of that. But he could consider that later.

"Right," Harry acknowledged. "What I actually came to ask you is, are their ways around oaths?"

"You want to find a way for Daphne to tell you what Malfoy said?" she deduced. "If the oath was an Unbreakable Vow, then no, it can't be broken, at least not without sacrificing your life."

"Who would make a vow on their life?"

"It isn't a widely used vow anymore." Padma explained. "Centuries again they were used in marriages, back when vows meant more than they do now."

Harry noticed the edge to her tone. He had no time to ponder it, however, as Padma was still speaking.

"There were many others uses as well, but it's not likely Malfoy used one. All other oaths have one loophole," she revealed. "That loophole is Legilimency."

Harry's heart sank. He had had enough trouble with Occlumency because of Snape's abuse the previous year; Legilimency probably would be worse. "To bypass the oath and get the information you want while keeping the person alive, you have to read their thoughts without the person knowing."

"So, you're telling me I have to use Legilimency on Daphne, find the right memory without her knowing that's what I'm trying to do?" asked Harry, and he couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Padma nodded. "If she knows you are the one invading her mind, she might consciously or unconsciously let you into her mind. That will be enough for a properly worded oath to take as a betrayal and, depending on the oath, remove her magic or kill her."

"You've got to be kidding me." Harry shook his head and faced the wall again. He didn't know Legilimency, and maintaining eye contact with Daphne long enough to find the specific memory without her knowledge was beyond him. He'd have to find another way. Still, he asked, "How often does this even work?"

"There are no records as far as I know." Padma admitted. "For all I know, this loophole is a lie. Hermione might know. She reads a bit more than me." Despite himself, Harry chuckled a little. Few, if any, read more than Hermione.

"Not that I mind, but how come you didn't ask for Hermione's help?" asked Padma. She instantly regretted it when she saw Harry's expression turn guarded and looked away.

Again, I brought up Hermione. We were getting along so well and I bring up her. I'll be lucky if he doesn't leave like last time.

"She's busy."

"Oh, I see."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I brought that up again." Padma apologized sincerely. "I've got a habit of putting my wand in my mouth." Harry turned to stare at her.

"The wizarding world version is 'putting my wand in my mouth'?" he asked with an edge of disbelief. That was just a really, really poor substitute.

To Harry's surprise, Padma smiled and laughed at him. "Sorry," she said after she calmed down, wiping her eyes. "No, there is no wizard version for that saying, thank Morgana."

"Then that was…" Harry began. Padma nodded.

"Thought it might help the mood," she replied with a wide smile.

Harry, perplexed as ever with the opposite gender, couldn't help but smile back. "It's okay," he said slowly. "I think I'm just not used to the idea of my best friends together yet." Padma shuffled on the cold stone floor and leaned in onto Harry's shoulder. He tensed a little.

"Your first two friends getting together," Padma whispered, acutely aware that Harry had tensed up. "I won't say I know what you're going through, but it will go away soon enough. It's a position you've never been in, am I right?" Harry nodded stiffly.

"Relax," Padma said calmly. "You're more comfortable than the wall." Harry had to agree with that, feeling the cold, hard stone behind his head. Still, this was a new experience for him. It took him a minute to relax his muscles and even then he was wary.

"Since their relationship is new, Ron and Hermione would want to explore it." Padma explained. "They will most likely spend a lot of their free time 'getting to know each other'." Harry recalled the scene he had witnessed earlier in the day between Ginny and Dean, and his mind conjured up an unwanted image of Ron and Hermione 'getting to know each other' by snogging in a deserted corridor. He shuddered at the thought.

Padma moved a little closer to be more comfortable, her neck bothering her from the wall and then the awkward position on Harry's shoulder, and continued. "Once their relationship has gone on for a little bit, they'll start to calm down and then they'll be back. It's like newlyweds, who disappear off for a week or two and come back, totally involved in each other. After a little while, it wears off and things return to normal more or less, except that they're married." Harry couldn't honestly say he knew anything about that. It sounded as if she'd seen it happen.

"Or, it'd be like a kid with a new toy." Harry added. Harry had seen Dudley's enthusiasm over new toys before, so much enthusiasm in fact that most of the toys didn't survive their first week at Privet Drive, except for the computer games. Those lasted till Dudley had played through them twice and were discarded or crushed due to said cousins rather large behind.

Without conscious knowledge, Harry had tensed up again at his thoughts of his cousin. "Harry?" Padma asked, lifting her head to look at him closely. "Did I say something wrong?"

Harry shook his head. "Just memories," he muttered.

Padma thought for a minute, remembering past conversations, what he'd said about his cousins, before she put two and two together.

"Oh, Harry," Padma whispered softly. "I didn't mean to…I mean I'm sorry…" she struggled to convey her apology.

Harry had watched her put the pieces together, in both awe and dread. Padma was scarily smart in comparison to her sister, and even to some of the more intelligent students.

"Yeah, never really had a new toy in living memory," said Harry. "Minus Sirius buying me that Firebolt in third year…"

Padma did the only thing she could think of. She got on her knees, crawled in front of him, leaned forward and hugged him.

Harry had been hugged before by a few different people. By Mrs. Weasley every time she saw him after some time away, or as he was leaving. Hermione had hugged him over the years, the first one, his first hug in living memory that was just for him, and not as apart of the Quidditch team win, just before he confronted Quirrell in his first year. Hermione had hugged him in fear; fear that she might be wrong or that she might not see him again. She had also hugged him in greeting and goodbye, like friends do for one another. Ginny had hugged him in fear as well, when he rescued her from the Basilisk.

This hug was just for him. There was no fear; there was no friendly duty to it. The hug was simply passing on Padma's feelings of pity, sorrow at his past, his lack of a proper childhood and promises of a better future. Harry, feeling himself blush slightly, slowly wrapped his arms around Padma. He leant into the dark hair that had fallen forward over the girls' shoulders. His eyes closed. She was very soft…

They remained like that till Padma's knees began to protest.

Cursing the stone floor silently, Padma released Harry and sat back beside him. She returned to her spot on his right shoulder. This time Harry didn't tense at the sudden contact. Nobody had ever sat like this with him before. It was different.

Giving in to the situation, Harry closed his eyes and laid his head on top of Padma's. He was too tired after the emotional day to bother resisting or reacting to the new closeness.

What felt like seconds later, but must've been at least twenty minutes, Padma stirred underneath his head. He slowly removed his head and let Padma sit back up straight. Harry watched as Padma twisted her neck, attempting to remove the crick that had appeared by sitting in such an unusual position.

Harry watched her for a moment before realizing what he was doing and tore his eyes away to examine the corridor. Noticing he was still in Ravenclaw Tower, he quickly turned back to Padma, who was now facing him.

"I should be going. It must be nearing ten by now." Harry almost went to check his watch, which still hadn't been replaced since the Second Task. Before fourth year was the last time he had visited Diagon Alley.

Padma offered hers. It was five till ten. "I'll escort you back. I'm not on duty any more tonight but I can still move about after curfew without detentions."

Harry was about to protest that he could run back before ten, but Padma gave him a stern look that wasn't worth contesting. Harry got up and pulled Padma up with him. The Ravenclaw brushed out a few creases in her robes, took a step, stumbled, and crashed into Harry, knocking them both back to the ground. Padma ended up on top, lying between Harry's legs, her head on his chest.

"Ouch," Harry groaned. "That had better be an accident."

Padma's dark skin made her blushes less visible than the Caucasian male's she was currently in a compromising position on top of.

"Um-uh, th-that was completely unintentional," Padma answered, visibly flustered. She took a few breaths and managed to calm herself. Then, she said, "Though I can't say I'm not enjoying it."

God, don't react, please.

Thankfully, Harry escaped without being embarrassed beyond belief. Someone must've figured he'd suffered enough without adding a reaction to the pretty young woman who'd be strewn over him

That's quite far enough down that trail of thought.

Padma was giving him a sheepish look. "Sorry."

The subsequent trek to Gryffindor Tower was done in silence, and soon enough they had arrived at the corridor before the Fat Lady.

"Thank you for taking me seriously." Harry was the first to speak. And he was sincerely thankful that Padma didn't try and resist the idea of Malfoy being a Death Eater. She was taking him seriously and helping him. Something he couldn't say for Ron or Hermione.

"Thank you for not leaving abruptly after I said something stupid this time." Padma replied.

Harry wasn't sure what was to happen next. Should he hug her? After the hug she gave him and their fall not long ago, he didn't know where exactly they stood in a comfort ratio. Both could be innocent; however both could have motives too.

Similar thoughts were gracing Padma's mind. Both sixth years ended up making awkward movements at different times.

It was at this time the two of them were spotted.

"What is this?" a voice practically screamed. Harry jumped at the sudden loud voice, and so did Padma.

Harry and Padma found an irate looking Ginny Weasley glaring at them.

"Huh?" Harry asked unintelligently, keeping himself in front of Padma, at a loss to the sudden intrusion and anger from the redhead.

"Don't 'huh' me!" Ginny responded darkly. "What's going on here?"

"What do you mean?" questioned Harry quietly. Was he doing something wrong? He replayed his actions since he got back to Gryffindor Tower in his mind and didn't find anything that would cause Ginny to act out this way.

"You two. What are you doing with her?"

The two sixth years felt each other tense up at that. "What do you mean her?" Harry asked, far less patiently than before. "Padma has a name," he added, and none too warmly. What was her problem? Why did Ginny care who he was friends with? Where was this outburst coming from?

The infamous Weasley red rose in Ginny's cheeks. "I don't care! You shouldn't be here with her!"

It was as though something large and scaly erupted into life in Harry's stomach, clawing at his insides: hot blood seemed to flood his brain, so that all thought was extinguished, replaced by a raw need to agree with Ginny, to cast aside Padma and criticize her, tell her her place.

But what has Padma done wrong? A second, unaffected part of Harry asked. What gives Ginny the right to tell who you can be friends with? What gives her the right to rule you, just like the Dursleys, and to a lesser extent Dumbledore, have done?

The large and scaly creature was ruthlessly cast aside in Harry's growing anger.

"I have every right to be here with whoever I want to be." Harry countered firmly. "Padma is my friend; if I want to talk with her then I am entitled to." Padma placed a small hand on Harry's shoulder and gently squeezed her thanks. Unfortunately, Ginny noticed.

"Let go of him," she snapped. Padma, though surprised at her tone, didn't remove her hand.

"Ginny, what is your problem?" asked Harry. The redhead faced him again, her anger almost palpable. "What gives you the right to question who I spend time with when you're off participating in your…'extracurricular activities'?"

Ginny flushed further at the mention of Harry catching her and Dean earlier in the day.

"I haven't told Ron about what you're up to," Harry said. "I'm sure he'd love to hear what you've been up to in your free time." It was a threat, a minor one, but a threat nonetheless. Harry's ability to tolerate people was being severely tested already this year. Only his peaceful feeling from earlier, sitting with Padma quietly, kept him from lashing out like he had done the previous year to those unintelligent enough to push him.

"Come back when you're ready to sincerely apologize," Harry dismissed her, attempting to end the confrontation now. Ginny's face was red with embarrassed and anger. She huffed and was a step away from adding her own retort when Harry's penetrating stare startled her. It was not something of fondness or even friendship; it was borderline disgust at her and her behavior. Ginny huffed again and barged past, entering the common room.

For what seemed like the hundredth time since he returned to Hogwarts, Harry sighed.

This year was never going to be easy. Is this my comeuppance for how easily everyone agreed to the DA?

For a third time today, Padma and Harry faced each other in an uncomfortable silence, stunned at the suddenness of Ginny's appearance, words and uncertain where to take things from here.

"I'm sorry," Harry said after a while. What else could he say?

"What for?" Padma asked, regaining eye contact. "She's the one with a problem. You defended yourself and me." She then added with a grin, "I see what Susan and Hannah mean by your chivalry."

Harry's face threatened to color. Padma laughed.

Intelligently avoiding further embarrassment, Harry switched topics.

"It's probably past ten," Harry said. Pausing, thinking for a moment and then added, "Why was Ginny out after ten, then?"

Padma glanced at her watch. It was now ten past. "I have no idea." Padma replied. "Was she following us?"

Harry was too absorbed in his thoughts to have heard much on his way back. Padma had the same problem.

"Oh well," Harry said, disregarding his thoughts for the moment. "Goodnight, Padma."

"Goodnight, Harry,"

-x-x-x-x-x-

Friday passed very quickly. Lessons were getting gradually easier instead of harder for Harry. Because of the lack of homework and his extra lessons, designed not to destroy his mind but to improve his skills, Harry managed to not cave into stress like many other students, including Ron, were doing.

Hermione, amazingly, cast a quick spell to duplicate her notes for Harry to study before bed, saying that if he didn't have homework, he still should have the most in depth education he could, by referring to her notes. After quickly brushing over the first six parchments that were all for the first lesson of Defense, Harry was in no doubt about the quality of her work.

For once, Ron and Hermione sat on either side of Harry, distracting him from any thoughts about the DA. Neither caught the other's eye and Harry was at a loss as to why. Did Ron mess up? Did Hermione mess up?

Speaking of females, Harry found himself daydreaming more than once about the feel of Padma against him. He was far more acutely aware of how feminine she was and how many others were suddenly around him because of the DA.

Ginny was inconspicuous throughout the entire day, minus breakfast. All the while through breakfast, she kept shooting both Padma and himself dirty looks. He was a second away from saying something when Susan and Hannah, together as always, sat down on the opposite side of the Gryffindor table, distracting him.

"So, Harry," Susan began, a Cheshire grin on her face, her strawberry blonde hair in a ponytail.

"So, Susan," Harry replied, suddenly feeling very worried.

"Are the rumors true then?" Hannah asked, matching Susan's grin, her own blonde hair in her trademark pigtails.

Harry would've sighed if he wasn't on edge. "What rumors?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"You and Padma," Both of them answered. Ron and Hermione, who were sitting either side of him, looked up in interest. Harry didn't bother looking at their reactions.

"When has there ever been a rumor that was right about me?" Harry countered this new development.

Nobody answered.

"Right then." Harry concluded. He dove back into his meal, hoping that was the end of it.

"That means you're still available?" Susan asked, Hannah nodding in agreement.

Harry blushed. He couldn't help it. The pair had caught him completely off guard.

Beside him, Ron flushed and Hermione bit her lip, struggling not to laugh.

"If you put it that way…"

"We do." Hannah pointed out mischievously.

"Then yes."

Susan and Hannah began whispering to each other conspiratorially.

"Are you going to tell me who started this rumor?" he asked, interrupting their whispers. He had a suspect in mind, but didn't believe her to be stupid enough to do it. He was proven right.

"A Ravenclaw I believe." Hannah offered. "She said she came across you and Padma in a corridor near their dorm, kissing. She said she didn't want to get caught snooping so she moved on."

Harry thought back to the previous night. They most definitely hadn't kissed. They'd hugged, but not kissed. Perhaps this person had only seen their faces close together… Not that that was any better.

"We didn't kiss." Harry stated firmly. "We were talking and there were a few times, if someone couldn't see us properly, that maybe one could mistake us for it, I guess…"

That seemed good enough for Susan, Hannah and Ron; however Hermione gave him a questioning look. He could just hear her asking 'what were talking about with Padma and not me?' It was a line of questioning Harry did not want to address yet.

Talk drifted off into unrelated affairs.

Susan started up a conversation with the current Ministry's direction and entered a rather furious debate with Hermione over Scrimgeour's administration. The strawberry blonde revealed that her Aunt Amelia was contemplating the position of Minister of Magic before she had been murdered. In fact, that was probably half the reason she was targeted. The other half being that Amelia Bones was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And she wasn't someone who could be bought.

Hermione mentioned careers in the Ministry and Susan added her own knowledge of the inner-Ministry workings. Muggleborns were not permitted to hold Head positions in any department of the Ministry. Harry could see Hermione readying to launch into a tirade against the old fashioned pureblood ways and quickly diverted the topic to what the other two witches wanted to do with their lives.

From that discussion however, Harry was beginning to understand how the Ministry worked a little more. It didn't mean much at the moment, but it was useful to know that Susan, a member of the DA, knew how exactly the Ministry worked. That knowledge could prove invaluable one day.

"I honestly haven't thought about it," Susan answered after a moment's thought. "Before Auntie… I wanted to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement alongside her, but now…" she shook her head sadly. "Memories might interfere."

Hannah answered next, after a brief moment of silence in memory of Amelia Bones, even though Ron and Hermione had never met her.

"I want to travel, to explore the world," Hannah said, her eyes glazing over and a small smile lighting up her face. Harry could tell she was enthusiastic about traveling just from that. In fact, almost anyone could.

"There's so much to see in both the Muggle and Magical world. There are landmarks and landscapes that are beautiful and magnificent all in their own way."

"How would you convert that into a career?" Hermione asked after swallowing some more of her potatoes.

"An author or a journalist, I was thinking," Hannah replied. "But after Rita Skeeter's works…" Harry and Hermione flinched slightly. "I might write a novel, or a travel book for the countries I visit. Sometimes I have a vivid imagination, so I doubt I'll have too much trouble writing a novel. Exploring and taking in many different sights and cultures can only help me improve a novel I might write."

Harry thought on Hannah's words for a moment. He knew very little of what the world actually looked like. Glimpses of what the telly showed when he was nearby, what he saw on the way to and from London, London itself, Hogwarts and the train ride to Hogwarts were all he had really seen. He doubted he could write a well written novel from his lack of knowledge of what the world looked like.

Traveling around the world itself sounded like a great adventure, one that would hopefully have no out of the ordinary dangers for him, if he managed to survive long enough to attempt one.

Harry thought about his own future. The previous year he had wanted to become an Auror. With the way things were between himself and the Ministry at the moment that was unlikely for two separate reasons. The first was the Ministry's current relationship with him, and the second was the way the Ministry treated people. He wasn't sure he wanted to work for a government that was so readily capable of launching propaganda campaigns against someone for telling a truth they wished not to believe.

Harry finished up his dinner and begged leave to attend his next extra-class. There had been no extra training the previous night. McGonagall and Flitwick had decided to test Harry's progress the following night, i.e. tonight, in a joint affair, giving him the now previous night off. He was to put to use all of his abilities to try and beat Flitwick. Harry didn't believe for a second he was good enough to beat Flitwick. He was learning his current limits, which were changing after each lesson, yet he wasn't about to give in without giving Flitwick a hard time.

After all, if you're going to lose, give them hell before you go down.

Seven o'clock found Harry in an unused classroom on the fourth floor. McGonagall and Flitwick were standing at one end of the room, and Harry at the other.

"Now, Mr. Potter, we've taught you a few skills not in the school's curriculum and have worked at sharpening your present ones." McGonagall said. "You are here to demonstrate whether our work is worth the effort." She gave him a tight lipped smile and stepped aside, setting up a barrier to protect from astray spells.

Flitwick and Harry bowed to each other.

The room was littered with old furniture, pieces of wood, sticks, stones and other debris. This was to emulate an uncontrolled arena, where items sitting nearby could be utilized for defense or offense.

Harry faced down Flitwick, his focus at its peak. He would do everything he could to make his two new mentors proud. He had to. One day his and his friends' live would rely upon his skills. There was no way he would fail them because he didn't focus enough.

Flitwick had agreed upon Harry making the first move. The battle, while attempting to mimic a real life duel, was still carefully controlled. The diminutive professor wouldn't be dueling at his capacity, for that was formidable, far too formidable for Harry to handle now. This demonstrative duel was more about Harry performing what he'd learnt correctly.

The sound of his own breathing was all Harry could hear for several moments. Then, he made his move.

Several sticks and stones were levitated and shot in Flitwick's general direction. Then in the same set of motions, Harry transfigured a wooden chair into a wooden shield. It wouldn't hold out more than one spell, and even a precise shot would break it without issue. However, it would suffice, for he wasn't able to change the composition of such a large object without more concentration than he was willing to spare.

Flitwick summoned and overturned table that intercepted the projectiles, all of which embedded themselves in the table, before it was cast aside. A short series of generic spells erupted from the man's wand. Harry dodged all of them, having kept on the move. It was always better to keep on the move. If you stood still you presented too much of a target, whether to the opponent in front or the unknown behind.

With a sweep of a wind, a chair caused Flitwick to cease his assault and step aside from the rushed distraction. The chair shattered into half a dozen pieces, none of which ever made it to the ground. Each piece was sent back towards Harry, who maneuvered his wooden shield to block the shots.

Harry barely noticed the two stones fired rapidly in time to move aside. However his shield was punctured by both stones, leaving two gaping holes. The sound of the stones hitting the back wall made Harry winch. That would've hurt.

Discarding the shield, Harry quickly cast several cutting curses as a distraction. Flitwick parried each of them, one accidentally hitting McGonagall's barrier, and retaliated with a bright-yellow spell Harry had never seen.

"Protego!"

A translucent wall appeared and blocked the spell, but the damage was done. The focus on the shielding the unknown enabled Flitwick to get off half a dozen good shots at him.

The Protego shield was a valuable shield to any wizard's arsenal. As with any spell however, it had its limitations. The shield would change its composition after the first spell connected, making it stronger against that spell but weaker against others. Casting three different spells or a spell in-between two others made a shield far less effective. If you knew this, or were able to recognize the style of spells used to destroy a shield quicker, you could concentrate on the shield to prevent any degradation due to your opponent switching spells over and over.

Snape had taught him that, and that disgusted Harry a little. The man treated him like dirt. Whatever reasons he had, there was no excuse. Harry didn't trust him and refused to show Snape the extent of his growth. The longer he underestimated Harry the better, and it could make all the difference one day.

Flitwick was also well aware of this fact about the shield charm. That's why the spells he shot were all different, causing Harry to focus entirely on maintaining his shield. He didn't have the time to dodge.

The maneuver nearly cost Harry the match. But the last spell luckily rebounded off the shield towards Flitwick, causing the professor to halt the spell he was about to cast and shield himself.

Harry immediately cast a spell he'd recently come across – the incantation was 'Deprimo' and caused immense downward pressure upon the target. If enough pressure, the spell could break bones. However, Harry cast the spell only enough to hamper the little man's movement.

Another chair nearly hit Harry, causing him to duck to the ground. He rolled aside from two more, and blasted a table out of the air. It appeared Flitwick wasn't troubled by the spell he'd cast. If he couldn't move at a decent speed, he would simply stand still and stay on the offensive.

A second blasting curse blew apart another table and Harry followed up with a number of banishers, forcing Flitwick to parry them and cease his onslaught. The break allowed Harry to regain his feet, but he was breathing hard. He wasn't going to last much longer.

He started to move, but he, unbelievably, slipped on a patch of ice, not having noticed it appear. Amazingly, he managed to dodge an incoming Expelliarmus due to the fall. But it was too much to continue on. He felt a dozen or so little pricks against his skin and realized Flitwick had banished broken pieces of furniture at him. Harry got to knees to find a table flying straight for him with no time to cast anything.

The table stopped mere centimeters from Harry's nose. He slumped backwards, breathing a sigh of relief.

He'd lost. But then, he'd never expected to really win. It took Harry several moments but he sat up and, wincing every so often, removed the splinters he'd received. A few of them caused him to bleed, which he would deal with in a moment.

McGonagall and Flitwick were conversing while Harry rid himself of broken wood. The small man looked completely unharmed, but his breathing was slightly increased. Harry smiled a little. At least he'd made the professor sweat, even if just a little. He knew he had a long way to go, but he was improving. He could feel it.

Several minutes later, the pair finished talking and Harry had caught his breath. He could feel weariness in his bones and knew he would need to have a nice long sleep after the day's work and then the duel.

Harry tensed and sat a little straighter as the pair approached him, preparing himself for whatever criticism he would receive. Neither professor was smiling, though that was no indication. McGonagall rarely smiled and Flitwick appeared to enjoy the dramatics. The things you learn.

"Mr. Potter," began McGonagall. She paused for a moment and let out a rare tight lipped smile. "I'm impressed at your progress. Few your age would top your efforts this year given your past education."

Harry's spirits soared. He'd impressed her. Classes would continue for certain.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall." Harry replied sincerely.

"Now, Mr. Potter," chimed in Flitwick. "Your efforts were very pleasing. Your awareness of your surroundings enabled you to defend yourself against many attacks and you utilized them in an offensive capability just as well. Towards the end, I noticed you didn't focus as strongly on everything around you, which led to your slip up on the patch of ice I'd formed."

Harry nodded, knowing that was the case. When he'd had to focus on his shield, his awareness on anything but the immediate spells coming his way was lost.

"Your variety in attacks was acceptable, and I will teach you a wider variety as the year progresses. By the end of the year, I am certain you will be a force to be reckoned with."

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick." Harry said, and he was sincere in his gratefulness.

A thought niggled at his mind. "Professors," he said uncertainly. "Do wizards ever use two wands at once?"

McGonagall and Flitwick exchanged looks. Harry could tell it wasn't a common question.

"What makes you ask, Mr. Potter?" asked McGonagall, her tone curious.

"For a short time, I was using two wands at once on the Hogwarts Express." Harry explained. "But it was tiring and I ended up returning to a single wand."

"It's a rare practice, but not unheard of." Flitwick replied slowly. "However, using twice as much magic twice as quickly drains the user. It's not highly recommended unless only in short bursts. Then there are issues of wand compatibility."

Harry nodded. He could feel his energy decreasing rapidly when he used two wands. It was impractical at best.

"Does that answer your question, Mr. Potter?" asked Flitwick.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, Mr. Potter, you should let Madame Pomfrey check over you," said Professor McGonagall, changing the topic. "Your injuries appear minor but she would have our heads if we let you go like this."

Harry rose to his feet, shook hands with Professor Flitwick and bade them farewell before leaving. McGonagall and Flitwick shared a knowing glance, both thinking the same thing.

Regardless of whatever Voldemort wanted with him, the next time he came, Harry Potter would not be an easy mark.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Madame Pomfrey had had many patients throughout her years. She had re-grown many bones, healed innumerable cuts and bruises, given out hundreds of calming draughts to students freaking out over exams, and even had to deal with a few unexpected pregnancies, to both her and the Headmaster at the time's displeasure.

Sex wasn't exactly permitted within the castle walls, or the grounds for that matter.

Over the years, she had developed friendships with some of her patients. Right now four of those former patients were respected Healers at St. Mungo's. Her current favorite patient had been in one of her beds more times that any other student. And here he was again.

Harry Potter had entered her wing with a dozen or so minor cuts. She didn't bother asking the origins of the injuries. She knew from the staff room conversations that Mr. Potter was taking extra classes and didn't pester the teenager with questions on something this minor.

Poppy quickly cast a few healing spells to heal the cuts before letting him go. Her job was only going to get harder now that the war was out in the open. St. Mungo's was unprepared for extensive casualties and the excess was always sent to her. Maybe she should take up an apprentice? She did have a young woman who had expressed interest, after all…

-x-x-x-x-x-

Across the English Channel, Fleur Delacour lay on her bed. The Delacours were very wealthy, and her bed and room reflected that wealth. The bed was an expensive four-poster king sized one, covered with satin sheets and frilly pillows. The remainder of the room was furnished with a chifforobe, wardrobe, dresser, floor length mirror and a window with an expansive view of the Delacour property grounds. The room was mostly colored burgundy, like her furniture. The color had taken a shine to her from when she was young.

As she lay there, staring at the ceiling, she thought of two major things. The first was one Harry Potter. He had sent her a letter several days prior, asking if she would come speak with him at his school – Hogwarts. He'd only asked for her; however Bill had been with her at the time and recognized Harry's beautiful snowy owl. She couldn't just tell him it was for her eyes only, could she, especially when she'd had no idea what the letter would entail. Bill had essentially invited himself along and Fleur had mixed feelings about that.

Harry Potter was an enigmatic young man. Her first impression of him had been less than impressive. A skinny, bespectacled little boy was all she'd seen. However, that had changed when that same little boy had risked his life and, what he'd thought the life of his own hostage, for her sister in the Second Task. An act of selflessness like that wasn't taken lightly.

And so she'd watched him the remainder of the Tri-Wizard Tournament trying to unravel the mysteries of Harry Potter. There were times when she caught him with his eyes lit up with joy, and then times when they were darkened, clearly troubled. Despite this, he was a gentleman.

He was also unaffected by her Veela aura.

That had been the major factor in her rising interest in the young man. Unaffected men made the best mates for Veela and Harry had been the first she'd met near her age. The boys at Beauxbatons were hopeless, all drooling morons. The boys at Hogwarts were no different.

Unfortunately, Harry was two and a half years younger than her. Such a gap at their age was near insurmountable. Fleur was a little disappointed with that. She never had a probably securing herself a date, but more than one date was a rarity indeed. Someone unaffected by her aura would be perfect. The age gap put him in a no-go zone.

Then there was the fact that there was a Dark Lord out for his blood.

Still, she had befriended him the summer prior while staying at her fiancées house. Bill Weasley was the second she'd met near her age to be unaffected by her aura. They'd dated for almost a year while they worked at Gringotts before he'd asked her to marry him. She had said yes, swept up in the moment, certain of her choice. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that now.

This was the second major topic that plagued Fleur's mind – had she made the right decision in saying yes. Was she ready to marry someone, marry Bill, when she'd made comments like '…eef you were a few years older 'Arry, I might 'ave been marrying you instead'to someone else and meant every word of it?

Fleur sighed and rolled over. She would meet Bill in the morning and travel to Hogwarts. What did Harry Potter want with her? Whatever it was, Fleur was determined to help him to the best of her abilities. At the very least she owed him that much from when he saved her sister, whether the danger was real or not. But a larger part of her wanted to help him regardless of what he'd done for Gabrielle.

Her thoughts conflicted long into the night. Just like every other night in the last few weeks.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Saturday dawned. Harry watched it from his dorm, too restless to sleep any longer.

Today was the day Fleur Delacour was arriving, along with Bill. Tonks, too, if she wasn't still – likely – busy with Ministry or Order work. Harry hoped that Fleur would side with him over the Order. He didn't understand how he would need them. He just did. His gut feeling was good enough.

Bill was another matter. He'd barely spoken to the 'cool' brother of Ron and Ginny and didn't see where he could need him, except to maybe set up or take down protections around a hideout.

Breakfast was an unusually solemn affair for Harry and Hermione. For some odd reason they had only shared a few brief conversations since Harry saw her and Ron down in the Hogsmeade tunnel on the Marauder's Map. There was suddenly a wall between them that her relationship with Ron had created.

Was it fear of drifting apart because of her relationship with Ron that built that wall? Was it a realization that they would never have the same closeness as before when there was a boyfriend in the mix?

Harry looked to Hermione briefly and pondered why he didn't feel more concerned over this. Last year he would've given anything to keep their friendship intact. Hermione had stuck with him since that very first Halloween, even when that stupid Firebolt incident, where he'd been angry at her for going behind his back, caused them to drift apart.

So what was different? What in the name of God was different about this time? Did he somehow know that this would sort itself out or was there something else out there influencing him?

He shook his head. That's absurd. Why would someone want Hermione and me to drift apart?

Hermione noticed Harry's attentions and looked his way, offering him a weak smile before returning to her meal.

She was constantly preoccupied by her dreams, on top of her homework, regular additional study, and the DA. The dreams were becoming more and more common, almost every night now, and it was the same thing over and over.

Mrs. Weasley was speaking to her about something, Ron, she thought, at the Burrow early that summer, before Harry had arrived. But details of the conversation, or why she was dreaming it every other night continued to elude her.

Harry ate slowly, his mind elsewhere. He didn't know when Fleur and Bill were to arrive, having not specified in any communication.

Something caught Harry's eye and he turned to see Ginny walking past, her red hair looking surprisingly vibrant this morning. She practically ignored and he didn't interrupt her. Her appearance had brought something else to mind.

Neither Ron nor Ginny knew about the DA yet. Harry was at a loss to why he hadn't gotten around to it. They were his friends, right?

The memories of Ron upset after the attack on Hogwarts Express and Ginny yelling at Padma and himself passed through his mind.

Are they truly friends if that was the attitude Ron has when an attack happens? Are they truly friends if that's the attitude Ginny has towards me having new friends?

Concentrating on Ron, Harry pushed whatever misgivings he had between himself and the redhead aside and opened his mouth, preparing to speak.

Harry's original question was then answered just after he finished that thought. He heard a lot of gasps in the Great Hall and looked up to see what the commotion was.

It was Fleur, of course.

She would have been beautiful even if she wasn't a Veela. The addition of Veela blood just made what she already had that much more obvious to everyone else.

Harry was not alone in admiring her. He could appreciate her looks more than he had when they first met since there was no tournament looming down on him, and the fact that he was much further along through puberty.

Fleur was statuesque in every sense of the word. Her long silvery-blonde hair, deep blue eyes and white teeth only added to her blemish free, perfectly pale skin.

Throughout the hall, there was clear lust in many boys' eyes, including many of the Slytherins, to Harry's disgust. Nobody except Harry seemed to notice that Bill was walking a few steps behind her, taking in the hall again. After all, it had been over a year since was last year. One never really got over their amazement at the Great Hall and its remarkable ceiling.

Fleur crossed the hall after spotting Harry, who waved hesitantly, causing him to receive many glares from those that bothered to take their eyes off of her for a second.

"Is zis seat taken?" asked Fleur, gesturing to the open spot beside Harry, smiling, with only a slight trace of her original French accent.

"Not at all."

Fleur, graceful as always, took her seat beside him. Harry was suddenly a lot calmer than he had been this morning. She had come, she'd hear him out and she'd agree to help him when he would require it.

On the other side of Harry, Hermione waved her hello. Ron gaped as he always did, magnificently failing to get food anywhere near his mouth, instead covering pretty much everywhere else on his face. Ginny indiscreetly glared at her, like many of the females, though Harry suspected hers was for a different reason than everyone else's.

"Had breakfast yet?" asked Harry, offering some of the English food, all thoughts of Ron and speaking to him of the DA vanished from his mind. "I know you're not fond of it but it's a while before lunch and there's a fair bit we have to talk about."

Fleur smiled back as Bill joined them at the table. "Oui."

Harry reached out to shake Bill's hand, having to put his knife down to free his right hand to do so. "Thanks for coming, Bill."

"No worries, Harry," he responded. "I know it must be important to have called us in."

Harry didn't bother correcting him. "It is. That is, something we can't talk about with everyone listening in." Harry whispered to the two graduates. Indeed, everyone was listening in. Few had taken their eyes off the quarter Veela since she had arrived, meals mostly forgotten.

The three of them made small talk until Harry and Hermione were done eating.

"Do you want a tour or should we get straight into it?" Harry asked once they were out of earshot. "Not much has changed since you two where here last."

"We 'ave ze full weekend a'ead of us," Fleur replied. "We 'ave time to enjoy ourselves."

Harry took that as a 'yes' for the tour.

An hour and a half later, after covering much of the school, showing Fleur places she hadn't seen before and encountering countless drooling males in the process, Harry led Bill, Fleur and Hermione to the Room of Requirement.

"Doesn't that get annoying?" Harry asked after passing yet another group of students who were incapacitated at the sight of Fleur.

"Oui. It is unfortunate zat so many are affected by ze Veela charms. It makes finding a man difficult for a quarter-Veela. Or any Veela in general."

Harry and Hermione questioned further and learnt a lot more about the Veela nature. Harry had never thought that Veela were merely sexual objects. There was no reason to generalize a hybrid like that. Many humans could also be considered sexual objects, but were humans labeled as sexual objects?

After seeing how the Ministry treated werewolves, he wasn't surprised to hear of the prejudice against Veela.

Soon enough, Harry was walking back and forth thinking of what he wanted.

A place to talk without being overheard. A place to talk without being overheard.

The door appeared, much to the surprise of the two graduates.

"I've heard about this room!" Bill exclaimed as the foursome entered. "Fred and George told me about it." He looked about the room, which had transformed itself into a comfortable sitting room. "This where you held that illegal Defense group last year isn't it?"

Harry nodded.

"In zis room?" Fleur asked skeptically. "It isn't very suitable."

"The room reacts to whatever need, you require from it." Hermione explained. "Harry wanted a quiet place to talk, judging by the furnishings," she gestured to the sitting room furniture. "The actual room we used was triple this size, without the furniture, so there was room for nearly thirty students to practice magic."

"Amazing." Bill said. Harry and Hermione took seats on one couch, Fleur and Bill on the couch opposite. "Okay, Harry, let's get this out of the way so we can enjoy the rest of the weekend."

"Okay." Harry replied, taking a moment to sort himself out. He hadn't really made a plan of what to say, hoping what came up on the spot would suffice.

In the end, he repeated much of what he said to the current DA members not long ago. Fleur listened patiently. Bill not as much, and Fleur stopped him from speaking on several occasions.

Harry did, however, add new things. He spoke of how there were five different sides in this war: Voldemort & Death Eaters, Ministry of Magic, and the Order of the Phoenix were the main three. Then, there was your own side – people working in one of the three main groups seeking their own ends.

Hermione explained how the Order and Ministry were mostly reactionary groups. Both of them reacted to attacks by Voldemort. While there were Orders members out there attempting to locate Death Eater hideouts, there were no captured Death Eaters mentioned in the news.

After Harry's and her own experiences over the past few years, Hermione had lost a fair bit of faith in the Ministry.

Harry had then, rather bluntly, stated that six Hogwarts students had done more in one night than the Ministry and Order combined did the three months since the attack.

Bill barely managed to contain his protest, being an Order member himself. Fleur was more understanding, her eyes sparkling.

"I've been a part of this war since I was eleven, Bill," Harry said, acknowledging the man's silent protests. "The Philosopher's Stone was Voldemort's first push to regain his body and would've succeeded if it weren't for Ron, Hermione and me."

Harry was about to repeat his adventures to emphasize his involvement and the inevitability of him meeting Voldemort again when Fleur interrupted him.

"I'm wiz you, 'Arry. You're ze fifth party in ze war, non? I agree wiz you. Ze Order ees not doing enough in ze war." This drew a glare from Bill which Fleur adamantly ignored. "You are requesting somezing of moi, non?"

"I might need your help in the future." Harry said. "I'm not sure what it may be but I'd like to have someone currently outside Hogwarts who'd be willing to help."

"I can agree wiz zat."

Harry smiled at her and looked at Hermione. She didn't look back. She was occupied, studying and reevaluating her opinion of Fleur. She had underestimated her too.

"Hang on a moment." Bill cut in, his tone displeased. "Can I have a word with my fiancée?" Without waiting for a response, Bill got up and pulled Fleur with him. Harry raised an eyebrow at the treatment while Bill cast a Silencing Charm to keep their conversation private.

"Care to reevaluate your opinion on Fleur?" asked Harry teasingly, momentarily forgetting their suddenly drop in communication. "You can't say she's some brainless bimbo now. You heard her. She's intelligent."

Hermione didn't respond. She did that when she knew she was wrong.

A few more minutes passed and Bill and Fleur's debate became more animated.

"What do you suppose they're arguing about?" Harry wondered. "Debating over whether to have their loyalties with us or the Order shouldn't turn out like that."

"I think Bill is an Order follower, through and through," Hermione replied curtly. "He probably doesn't approve of Fleur suddenly declaring allegiance to you. I'm surprised by her readiness to do so. Bill must be too."

"An Order follower through and through?"

"The Weasley's are very loyal to Dumbledore." Hermione explained. "Haven't you noticed how they never argue or complain about his orders? Bill's probably no different and, like I said, doesn't like his fiancée batting for a different team, even if they have the same goal."

"B-but that's outrageous!" Harry exclaimed. "It's her choice! I don't know much about relationships and marriage but I know that doesn't give the husband the right to make decisions for the wife."

"'Ah!" came Fleur's voice, stopping Harry before he could continue his rant. "You 'ear zat Bill?" Bill glared at a clueless Harry. Apparently they had stopped their debate in time to hear his response. "I am free to make my own choice. I 'ave made eet."

Bill stared between Harry and Fleur for a long, uncomfortable period of time. Finally, he sighed. "I'm sorry, but I am with the Order."

"That's quite alright, Bill." Harry told him. He admitted to himself he was a little disappointed that someone had finally declined but pushed it aside. It was inconsequential. "I must ask you to take an oath so you can't voluntarily or involuntarily tell someone about what happened here." When Bill didn't make any motions to make an oath, Harry added, "Surely you understand the need for secrecy, being in the Order. I can't have everyone knowing that I'm trying to fight back."

Bill stared down Harry a little longer, and then sighed. "I swear on my magic that what happens and has happened in the room while I'm present will not be revealed. Sorry, Harry."

"There's no need for apologies or excuses," Harry replied. "I didn't expect anything from you. However, I must ask you to leave."

Bill didn't move, again. He glanced towards Fleur and then back at Harry. Harry was beginning to find a stubbornness streak underneath the carefree, cool attitude that Bill projected.

"Go, Bill," said Fleur. "You 'aven't spent much time 'ere in quite a while. I'll see you at dinner." Bill focused on Fleur. Neither Harry nor Hermione knew what was going on in his mind as they watched the standoff.

He finally accepted the dismissal and left the room, leaving an awkward silence.

"This… this isn't going to cause trouble between you two is it?" Harry asked. That was the last thing he'd intended.

"Never you mind, 'Arry," Fleur answered smiling. "He 'as to accept it. 'Arry, you saved my sister's life. I do not forget. I will be wiz you if you want me."

Harry's face broke into a smile. "Thank you, Fleur." Suddenly the whole mood lightened. "Like I said, I figured I'd need your help in the future. I had a feeling that I should ask you before too long, so I did."

"Eet is fine. You can contact me if you require my assistance. 'Owever, you must tell me what iz between you two."

"Between us?" Harry repeated. He looked at Hermione, who didn't look his way.

"Oui. You aren't interacting like normal." Fleur explained. "What 'as 'appened?"

"Nothing," Harry and Hermione replied at the same time. They caught each others eye, but Hermione looked away immediately.

Fleur sighed softly. "Whatever it is, is it worz losing your friendship over? Friends are precious. I 'ave very few because of ze Veela in me." She admitted. "You 'ave it much easier. Don't waste your chance."

There was a short, solemn silence.

"Come now," Fleur stood up, suddenly much more lively. "Show me 'ow zis room works and what you are up to in 'ere."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Fleur's acceptance kept Harry afloat for the remainder of the day. He couldn't help feeling surprised that she'd so readily agreed. Hermione begged leave to finish her homework, though Harry suspected it was to avoid another line of questioning. Harry spent time with Fleur, explaining what the purpose of his newer version of the DA was. She had listened intently, offering her own opinion here and there.

Before long, the two of them had moved on to less serious or important topics. The frostiness that had once surrounded the French woman had almost evaporated; only her bluntness remained, causing a few moments where Harry was left speechless. Without realizing it, dinner time soon approached. Harry and Fleur had become friends. He wished he'd not let himself get pressured by Hermione and Ginny into not speaking with her.

Conformity was a bitch.

Just before the two of them left the Room for dinner, Harry had apologized for treating her the way he had, and not stopping others from doing the same. Fleur had taken the apology amicably, saying that she was used to it and he was one of the few that had ever gotten to know who she was and apologize for their treatment. Fleur had then taken an oath voluntarily. Harry protested that this would mean that she couldn't talk about what they would be up to with Bill now, fearing that that would create more of a rift between them.

"Bill 'as chosen to side wiz ze Order, and I 'ave chosen to side wiz you. We 'ave secrets already. 'E will 'ave to accept zis one too."

Dinner was uncomfortable with the silence between Bill and Fleur. Despite Fleur's reassurances, Harry felt he had definitely driven a wedge between the soon to be married couple.

Hermione had sat on the opposite side of Ron from Harry, spending half of dinner chastising Ron for staring stupidly at Fleur. Harry wondered just where the three of the stood with each other now. Wasn't it alone three weeks ago they were friends, laughing at the Burrow together? Wasn't it only a fortnight since Harry and Hermione had solidified their friendship on their return to Hogwarts?

Harry was worried about the direction their friendship was going. The wall between himself and Hermione was still there, though it had been reduced slightly by their brief reconnection in the Room of Requirement.

He watched Hermione and Ron talk uneasily, uncertain. Would they start doting on each other soon, making it embarrassing to be near them? Would they do as Padma thought and drift apart from him, choosing to spend more alone time together?

Hermione still helped him, gave him her notes and had put great effort into charming the rings with the Protean Charm and something else very complex that made the rings unreadable to anyone besides the eleven Hogwarts members.

Still, their everyday conversations were strained.

It was later that night when Harry became more concerned about the entire matter.

He was in Gryffindor Tower, reading through some of Hermione's notes for Herbology while said girl and Ron were seated across the room, talking softly. The two of them were working on his homework, Hermione walking Ron through the specifics of the Agumanti Charm for Charms again to make sure he had it down.

Harry reached a passage he didn't quite understand. While he was more focused than he used to be, some of Hermione's vocabulary still managed to fly straight over his head.

He stood, crossed the room and was about to ask Hermione for some clarification on the passage when he sensed someone staring at him. Turning to find the person, Harry found Ginny staring at him intently, a mixture of a scowl and a predator like look on her face.

Unnerved, Harry was about to look away when Parvati walked past him and stopped in front of Ginny. The redhead was as surprised by Parvati's approach as Harry was and her gaze was directed at her for the moment. Harry saw Ginny's eyes widen and glance back at him for a moment, and then she pushed out a chair opposite her with her foot, offering it to Parvati.

Confused by the entire situation, Harry went back to his task of asking Hermione about her Herbology notes.

"Hermione," Harry said quietly, feeling very much like a third wheel now that the two seated in front of him were dating. Here he was on the outside, wanting their attention and, as the next thirty seconds proved, to no avail.

"Hermione," Harry repeated, louder this time. "Ron, can I have a quick word."

"What?" Ron said sharply, turning away from Hermione and his work to glare at Harry. Harry was taken aback by the sudden hostility. It wasn't like Ron had never interrupted a conversation between himself and Hermione.

"I need to ask Hermione something," Harry replied after a moment, facing Hermione. She looked to him and grabbed the piece of parchment in his hand quickly. For the second time in a minute he was taken aback.

"What's the problem?" she asked briskly.

"Ah," Harry said, fumbling for the words. "Right. This paragraph here, what are Gibberellins?" he asked, pointing at the top of the page.

"Gibberellins are a series of hormones that promote stem elongation in plants." Hermione answered immediately. "It should be already written down here…" she trailed off and read three quarters of the page before she came to the more detailed explanation. She pointed it out to Harry, who took the page back and examined it again.

He looked up; about to thank Hermione only to find her and Ron already back at work.

What's with that? Harry asked himself. Are they annoyed I interrupted them?

Harry turned back, his eyes passing over Ginny and Parvati seated together, talking rather animatedly, and walked across the common room to his lone seat at the table. He sat down and began reading the rest of the parchment, understanding it all this time.

When he finished he put the parchment down on the table and looked around at the two groups that his mind was focusing on. Parvati suddenly stood, Ginny giving her a smile, and then left the room, not looking at Harry as she passed for a second time. Dean came down from their dorm a moment later and sat in the previously occupied chair. Ginny sent Harry the occasional glance, unnerving Harry further.

Hermione and Ron were still deep in conversation, surprisingly not arguing one iota. Harry searched within himself to find out what he truly felt about their sudden brush off of him and, to his shock, found only a small trace of hurt.

Just what was going on here?