Previously:

'Hmm,' Hermione hmm'ed. She looked at them thoughtfully. 'I think I know what I'm going to do.'

She looked at their expectant faces.

'I'm going to beat Isabelle Carmell at her own game.'

-FOOD-

'How?' Harry asked quizzically, abandoning his ice-cream. Ron slid it in front of him, digging into it immediately.

'I...' don't know, she finished silently. She bit her lip. After a while, she threw her hands up in the air. 'You know what? We shouldn't even be discussing this! It's my birthday!' she exclaimed, pasting on a huge smile.

Harry regarded her for a moment. He sighed, smiling too. 'I suppose it is. Want to take a walk?'

Hermione nodded, and then looked at Ron. 'You're coming?'

Ron grinned. 'Of course not, Hermione,' he sarcastically said. 'Because I'd ditch you for an ice-cream parlour.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Ron shrugged. 'Okay, not on your birthday, I wouldn't,' he acceded.

Hermione laughed. 'Thought so.'

They paid their bill, and left the parlour, walking arm in arm down the busy alley. They passed a couple of children who were throwing what appeared to be scrunched up paper balls at each other.

'Why can't kids just be born grown-up?' Ron grumbled, as he ducked a paper ball.

'Ron!' Hermione chided, bumping him on the arm.

'What?' Ron asked, shoving his hands into his pockets while Harry just shook his head. 'Think about it logically, Hermione. They would be born responsible, respectable, dignified –'

He was so involved in his little rant that he didn't have the time to dodge another paper ball. Before either Hermione or Harry could stop him, he whirled around, glaring angrily at the children. 'OY! That one was deliberate!' he bellowed, making sure they heard him.

'Ron, you're making a fool of yourself,' Harry said quietly, glancing around.

He rolled his head around to look at him, shaking the ball in his hand. 'Bloody idiots. They should be punished.'

'And I'm sure that their parents will put them in solitary confinement for eternity,' Hermione commented dryly. 'But your spectacle there just cost you the front page of the Daily Prophet, young man,' she said in part amusement, pointing at the flashes of cameras around them.

Ron glared, 'They chucked a paper ball at me, Hermione,' he said, attempting to stress the importance of this heinous crime by holding the ball at a protruding tip and shaking it. Harry sighed and Hermione rolled her eyes. His shaking began to un-ball the paper, and he made it face him. 'A paper ball of a stupid Masquerade...Masquerade...' he trailed off, his mouth dropping as the wording on the paper became clearer as he unscrunched the ball.

Hermione looked at him. 'Masquerade...?' she prompted.

'I got it!' Ron exclaimed, his eyes bulging.

'First page of the Prophet, yes,' Harry agreed.

'No, man,' Ron said. 'Here,' he said, shoving the crumpled page into Hermione's hands.

Hermione perused the page. She handed it back to him, shrugging. 'The Masquerade Duel, so what?' she asked, leading them over to Flourish & Blotts across the street.

'So what?' Ron echoed as they stepped into the cool shop. 'So what! Hermione, this is your chance!' he shouted excitedly. Hermione winced at the volume he chose to converse with. He received a few annoyed looks from some of the customers.

'My chance for what?' she asked absent-mindedly, as she went through the Just In! pile.

Ron's gaze swept around the room, and then he grasped her by the elbow, giving her only a few seconds to leave the book she'd been holding safely back in its place, and pulled her into a secluded corner of the shop. Harry followed, his eyebrows furrowed.

'Ron, what are you—' Hermione started asking.

He held up the squashed advertisement of the Masquerade Duel. 'This, Hermione, this is your chance,' he whispered earnestly.

'Why are we whispering?' Hermione whispered back.

'Isabitch's spies,' he murmured, looking around again.

'Ah, so this has to do with the—' Harry started, catching on.

Ron nodded. 'Precisely. You see, Hermione, this Masquerade Duel is your –'

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. 'My chance, I know. But at what, Ronald? My chance at watching Isabelle duel? I already know that she's a power—'

'No, Hermione,' Ron said, shaking his head. 'The chance at you duelling.'

Her gaze snapped to his, suddenly seeing things a lot more clearly. She looked at the advertisement, slowly reaching for it. 'This looks...doable,' she murmured, scanning the page.

'Ron, your brilliance is truly –' Harry started saying.

'You dare say surprising –' Ron began menacingly.

'—appreciated,' Harry finished, quickly cutting passed his hesitation.

Ron stared at him. 'Appreciated?' he repeated. Harry shrugged, smiling. 'I come up with a bloody excellent idea to save Hermione and let her do something she's actually passionate about, and you say that my idea's appreciated?'

Harry looked away, suddenly finding a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where Not To Find Them highly fascinating. 'Uh, yeah.'

Ron fixed his glare on Harry. 'You were going to say surprising,' he accused.

Harry didn't say anything.

After a while, Ron let it go. 'Hm, I suppose you would've been right,' he mused. 'It's alright, I forgive you.'

Harry rolled his eyes, snapping the book shut. 'So, Hermione, are you up for it?'

Hermione wrenched her trance-like gaze from the paper. 'This might come as a surprise to you, but ... I don't really know how this works,' she muttered, feeling ashamed to admit this.

Ron clapped her on her shoulder, grinning, 'Which is why you have Harry and I!'

'Weren't you the one who suggested us being quiet?' Harry asked pointedly.

'Oh,' Ron said in much softer tones. 'Right.'

'Anyway, I just installed that new device that Gruffis Cracklefurn – you know the head of the Magical Devices Department? – designed. We can view live magical events very easily –' Harry was saying.

'So it's like a TV,' Hermione said.

'In theory, yes, but as soon as we switch the thing on, we get transported into it. Virtually, of course,' Harry added.

'Ah...' Hermione said, nodding. 'So it's like a 4D effect.'

'Precisely.'

'Er,' Ron said intelligently, not following a word of their mini-discussion. 'Point is, is that you can learn all there is to know about it from watching past duels.'

'You forget that I can't go anywhere,' Hermione pointed out.

Ron grimaced. 'Then we'll just have to do it the boring way.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow quizzically.

'You'll have to read up on it,' Harry supplied.

Hermione grinned. 'Boring to you, maybe.'

Harry grinned back. 'Of course, and if you don't understand, we'll explain it to you.'

'I think that I quite understand the concept of –' Hermione started saying, when she was cut off by a smooth voice.

'Don't even try explaining the concept of a threesome with Granger.'

Hermione jumped, bumping her head on the low ceiling. She glared at the newcomer, who had the trademark smirk stuck to his mouth. 'Malfoy,' she snapped through gritted teeth, rubbing her head.

'And what a pleasure it is to see you, too, Granger,' he said charmingly, despite the hardness gathering in his eyes.

'Get lost, Malfoy,' Ron said, turning his back on Malfoy dismissively.

'Didn't your mother teach you to never turn your back on the enemy, Weasley?' Malfoy drawled, his wand appearing as if from nowhere. He idly twirled it through his fingers.

'And what makes you think that you're a threat to us?' asked Hermione sweetly, yet hostility was written all over her body. She was struggling not to clench her fists out of anger, only because one: this would only goad Malfoy, and two: she didn't want to crumple the advertisement to an unrecognisable extent.

'Ah, she still has her bark,' Malfoy commented, tilting his head, as if to analyse Hermione, and smirked.

'She bites, too,' Hermione said scathingly, her hands itching to take the black scarf that loosely hung from his neck and employ it as a noose.

She heard Harry draw in a sharp breath. Hermione shot a confused look at him, catching the frown on his face. Why would he object to her arguing with Malfoy? She turned back to face Malfoy.

He had his eyebrows raised, with an amused smile tugging at his lips. 'Kinky much, Granger?' he asked. Hermione felt the blood rush to her face as she realised that she had just shot herself in the foot.

'That wasn't what I meant, and you know it,' she bit out, this time not being able to resist clenching her fists. She heard the paper crackle in her hands.

'And in a bookshop, no less!' Malfoy remarked, ignoring her. 'Shame on you.'

'Screw you, Malfoy,' Hermione scoffed, and only then realised what she had just said. She bit her tongue, refusing to let her discomfort show.

He cocked an eyebrow, smirking. 'You really want to go there?'

'Don't go getting any smart ideas,' Hermione said, quickly recovering from her embarrassment and stepping forward towards him. Do not make a scene. Don not make a scene. Do not make a scene... 'You could never handle a smart witch, Malfoy, and you know it.'

'Yeah, Malfoy,' Ron agreed before Malfoy could dignify Hermione with a response. 'And I repeat: Get. Out.'

Malfoy looked around the shop again. 'Well, I had absolutely no idea that you owned this shop, Weasley,' Malfoy said dryly. 'Do you even have the financial means to go around buying bookshops? You can't even buy books –'

'That's enough, Malfoy,' Harry said calmly, yet he narrowed his eyes.

Hermione had noticed that Malfoy hadn't responded to her comment about smart witches. She smiled in satisfaction.

'Oh please, Potter,' Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. He leaned on the staircase behind him. 'You can never get enough of me.'

Harry smiled thinly. 'Just because I work with you does not mean that I regard you as a —'

'Keep telling yourself that,' Malfoy said, smirking. Hermione was about to breathe a sigh of relief as he started to walk away, but stopped when he turned around. 'Oh, and I thought you three had the whole threesome thing nailed down to perfection by now?' His eyes gleamed.

Hermione sent another glare his way, gripping her wand tightly in her hand. His gaze dropped to it, and he had the audacity to laugh. 'Sure, Granger. Go for it.'

And with that, he turned on the spot and Disapparated.

'Coward,' Ron muttered in disgust.

'But we always knew that,' Hermione sighed. She sat down on one of the book benches, and Ron joined her. Harry stood leaning against the wall opposite them.

'Everyone's saying how he's changed,' Ron suddenly said after a few moments of silence.

'Well, everyone's not of sound mentality,' Hermione sniffed. 'He's still a foul-mouthed, evil –'

'Normally, I would agree,' Harry said quickly, and he took on a reluctant look.

'I've never pegged you for a conformist, Harry,' Hermione groaned.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. 'Let me justify that quickly. I work with him, and yes, he's still an egotistical git to the third degree, but he's not a prejudiced git.'

Ron rolled his eyes. 'Right, right, and I fart packaged chocolate frogs,' he said crudely.

'It is rather ironic, though, don't you think?' Hermione asked.

'Chocolate frogs?' Ron asked, frowning because he couldn't see where this was going. 'Not really –'

'Malfoy being a lawyer,' Hermione interrupted. 'Lawyers fight for other people. Malfoy fights for himself.'

'I suppose, but he's one of the best out there. All the criminals I arrest request him, and it's a lot of good money, Hermione –'

'-sure, because he's living in a squatter camp,' Ron said sarcastically.

'-and he's good at what he does...And Law Enforcement was the only faculty that would let him in after the war.'

'Ironic. Again,' Hermione said, her lips twitching.

'But if you think about—'

'Can we not?' Hermione asked. 'I finally have a chance of doing something about my situation, and we're talking about Draco bloody Malfoy!'

'Sorry,' Harry muttered. He took out his wand, waved it and muttered something unintelligible.

'I think the Abra Kadabra part is coming just now, Hermione,' Ron stage-whispered, waiting for sparks.

'You're hilarious, Ron,' Harry muttered. 'Duck.'

'What?' Ron asked, frowning at the grin on Harry's face. 'Duck for wh—oof!'

The force of a small stack of floating books knocked Ron to the floor. Hermione helped him up, laughing. Ron glared at Harry. 'I didn't get the memo that it's "Let's-chuck-things-at-Ron-day",' he grumbled. 'Could've worn body armour, or something.'

Ignoring Ron's dramatics, Harry jerked his head at the books. 'Funny you should mention body armour...'

Hermione picked up a book and paged through it. 'This dates back to the eighteenth century,' she said, sounding surprised.

'You wouldn't have heard of it, because it went through a dry period that lasted for about ten years – most of which you spent at Hogwarts. That's why it seems like a relatively new thing.'

Hermione nodded, picking up another book. 'Dry period?' she asked, looking at Ron questioningly.

He shook his head. 'Don't ask – it's not really important.'

'Ah,' she said, angling the book so that she could see the diagrams.

'The contest's in three weeks, Hermione,' he said, 'but everything you need to know is in there.'

Hermione nodded, still reading snippets from the book. Ron and Harry sat patiently watching her face change from various degrees of reaction: interest, curiosity, awed, shocked –

She gasped. 'Dumbledore took part in this?' she asked disbelievingly.

'Yip,' Ron said. 'But he got over it after a while...Winning all the time can get a bit boring, you know.' He rolled his eyes.

'And remember that the contest lasts for—'

'-three months, minus weekdays,' Hermione completed Harry's sentence. 'Yeah, I read that somewhere in here.'

'Right, so if you need us to create any diversions for you with the Carmells, then don't hesitate to ask,' Harry said.

'That won't be necessary, but thank you,' Hermione smiled at him. She got up, grabbing her purse from the bench. 'I need to go pay for these.'

'Already sorted,' Harry said, grinning.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'I don't need your charity, Harry,' she said crossly.

Harry shrugged. 'Early birthday present.'

'My birthday's today, Harry, and you already got me a present!'

'Early birthday present for next year,' he rectified.

Hermione deliberated for a moment.

'Oh come on, Hermione,' Ron groaned. 'Which is it? Your pride or your freedom?'

She glared at him. 'Fine.'

'There you go,' Harry smiled, patting her on the back.

'You know, from where I come from, it's customary to say thank you after receiving such a magnanimous gift...' Ron teased.

'Thank you, Harry,' she said, rolling her eyes and hugging him.

'Use a Reducing Charm to hide it and everything should be okay,' he instructed.

And everything should be okay was the thought that played a never-ending echo in her head.

Harry looked at his watch. Merlin, he was going to kill Hermione.

'Why can't you come with me again?' he grumbled to the person sitting on his bed, pulling on a sweatshirt.

'Mate, I already told you that it's Pansy's and my two-year-and-two-month anniversary,' Ron said, rolling his eyes at Harry's extreme reluctance.

'Happy anniversary,' Harry muttered, not feeling happy at all. He looked up into the mirror, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to sort out the mess. His arm fell down, and he sighed. It was no use. None of it was any use, he thought morosely.

'You'll be fine!' Ron assured him, playing with a gadget he found on Harry's bed.

Harry narrowed his eyes at his best friend. 'How is having supper with Sabine Carmell fine?' he gritted out between his teeth.

Ron, for fear of his own safety, held back a grin. 'It's just a date, Harry.'

Harry glared at him. 'It is not a date.'

'Forgive me if I'm wrong, Harry,' Ron said in a tone that implied that he was far from wrong. 'But the global definition of the word date is an engagement to go out socially with another person.'

Harry called on all the patience the world could offer him. 'Only if it's out of romantic interest. And this...this thing is clearly not a romantic date.' He was starting to feel sick.

'But it's still a d—'

'Ron.'

'But –'

'Ron.'

'Fine, it's not a date,' Ron accepted.

'Thank you,' Harry said.

'But she's not going to kill you, Harry.'

Harry rolled his eyes, turning back to the mirror to analyse himself. 'We're talking about the girl – no, animal – who will throw herself at me at any given chance, Ron.'

'At least she's not heavy,' Ron said, shrugging.

'At least she's not...' Harry repeated, and then cussed. 'That's not the point, Ron.'

Ron held up his hands. 'Mate, you should've known that this was all part of the package when you offed Voldemort. If you didn't want to have hysterical, screaming girl fans, then you shouldn't have killed him.'

'Technically speaking, he killed himself,' Harry pointed out.

'Two wands, two people, two spells,' Ron said. 'Do the math.'

Harry scratched his head, looking back at himself in the mirror. 'Maybe I can make myself look ugly,' he muttered.

'No chance of that happening, lover boy,' Ron said, laughing. 'The girl is so in love with you, she'd like you if your arse was glued to your face.'

Harry shot him a disturbed look. 'I don't think that that's magically possible.'

'Probably is.'

He sighed, not hearing Ron. 'I'm going to kill Hermione,' he said for what must have been the tenth time that evening.

'It's just a d—'

'Say date one more time,' Harry threatened.

'You just said it,' Ron childishly said.

'Ron, unless you want to stop coming to my house for food...' Harry began ominously.

Ron's laughed. 'Don't be ridiculous, Harry. I come here for your company, too.'

Harry refrained from insulting his best friend, and began searching for his shoes.

'Try to have fun,' Ron said after a while.

Harry looked at Ron over his shoulder. 'Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ron, but in case it slipped your mind, I'm engaged to your sister.'

Ron grinned, fiddling with the unfamiliar object in his hand. 'How is she taking the Sabine-news, by the way?'

'She's rather amused,' Harry said, frowning.

'As is everybody else,' Ron laughed. A sudden thought occurred to him. 'Hey, Harry?'

'What, Ron?' Harry asked, a bit harsher than he intended.

'What about the paparazzi? They're going to have a field day, er, night, about this...I know Gin, and she would never find that amusing.'

'Which is why Sabine's coming here,' Harry said grimly, not hiding his blatant contempt for the idea.

'Hermione's idea?'

'Mmf,' Harry mumbled, finally finding one of his shoes. He put it on, and began looking for the other one.

'Why don't you just accio it, Harry?'

'Because if I do that, I'll have nothing to use up my time after that, and I will possibly come up with even more ideas of how to get out of this. But I'm doing it for Hermione so...Damn, I'm going to kill her.'

'Man, you're really against it,' Ron realised. Harry left the room, and travelled down one of the many passages in his house. 'What idea are you thinking about now?' he asked, raising his voice so that Harry could hear.

'Well,' called Harry from the room next door. 'Seeing that I have a whole room filled with potions – one being the Polyjuice Potion – I figured I could force you to drink it with my hair in it. At which point, I'll leave the house, put up some unbreakable wards barring your exit, and you'll be stuck here with Sabine.'

Ron's jaw dropped. Harry came back into the room, holding the other shoe in his hand. He smirked when he saw Ron's gobsmacked expression.

'Curse you and your overactive Auror mind,' Ron muttered, now eyeing him warily.

'I thought you didn't mind her,' Harry said cheerily.

'You get a kick out of tormenting people, Harry?'

'Only those I care about,' Harry teased.

'Where did this sudden burst of energy come from?' Ron questioned, worried about the stability of Harry's mind.

'Now that I found my shoe...' Harry said, dangling his shoe by the lace.

'Merlin, you're thinking, aren't you?' Ron asked.

'I'm not going to involve you in my plans, Ron. Relax,' Harry said smoothly.

'Ah,' Ron said. 'Nah, I wasn't worried about that,' he said, but visibly relaxed.

Harry raised a brow.

'No, really!' Ron said. 'I mean, I was just thinking about the many years of friendship we've shared, and how we've always stuck together, and helped each other out, and sorted out our problems together...that you couldn't possibly involve me in your love life.' He ended off his dramatic speech with a...wink.

Well, that wiped the amused look off Harry's face. 'Sabine is not part of my love life!' he growled.

'Well, she thinks she is,' Ron said, picking up the abandoned object again. 'Harry, what the bloody hell is this thing?'

'A pen, Ron. With a very sharp tip that can be used to puncture the carotid artery which would lead to a person bleeding to death. Just saying.'

Ron shrugged. 'I breathe magic, Harry. Really, only magic can kill me,' he said, looking unfazed by Harry's indirect threat.

Harry tilted his head. 'Only one way to find out...'

Ron dropped the pen. 'Can I just say that you're quite a violent person?'

Harry smiled. 'Right, now leave.'

Ron laughed. 'Come on, Harry. You can't kick me out of your house just because I'm making digs at your love life.'

Harry tugged Ron, pulling him up as he said, 'But I can kick you out if my d—if Sabine is coming in five minutes. Which she is. So, go.' He pushed Ron towards the door, and Ron held on to the doorframe. Harry was very strong, but so was Ron, and he held his ground.

'You were just about to say date,' he said, smiling widely.

'Out, Ron,' Harry snarled, pushing harder.

Ron gripped the doorframe harder. 'And I thought you wanted me to be here for you,' he said cheekily.

'And I thought that you didn't want to be running late for your date with Pansy.'

All the resistance left Ron's body, and Harry – not expecting it – was still exerting a force on him. Ron tumbled to the floor. In the same second, he scrambled to his feet. 'SHIT! Pansy's going to murder me! Merlin, Harry, you knew this!' He raced down the stairs, and Harry enjoyed a moment of amusement.

Ron threw the door to Grimmauld Place open, transfiguring his clothes into smart dinner-appropriate clothes. He shot a look over his shoulder at the house which was disappearing into the walls. 'Bloody hell,' Ron swore. 'Harry harbours an evil streak.' And with a hurried pop! he Disapparated.

Harry shook his head, still laughing at the memory of Ron's panic-stricken face. Harry really wasn't the revenge-seeking type but ...

He glanced at his watch.

He suppressed a groan. Two minutes until the devil's spawn arrived. He glanced at his clothes again. Why had he tried to look nice anyway? He raced to his room, kicking off his shoes as her went. He stripped in split-second timing, throwing on something else he felt was more suitable for the occasion.

He heard the knock on his front door that was magically amplified to reverberate throughout his house. He took a look at his appearance. Ah. Much better.

He took a casual stroll down the stairs and opened the door, a smug look on his face.

'HARRY!' she squealed, throwing herself at him. Harry almost balked at the strong fragrance he caught. What, had she been involved in the bombing of a perfume store, or something? HE pasted on a smile anyway, and gently pushed her away from him.

Only then did they take in each other's appearance. She was dressed very – here, he grimaced, reluctant to admit it – nicely. Dark jeans, and a strappy top. Her eyes widened. 'Harry...did I wake you up, or something?' she looked utterly confused, the poor thing.

'Why?' he asked pleasantly, ushering her into his house.

So shocked was she that she didn't even blink at the majestic look of the interior. 'You're wearing creased pyjamas,' she said, her voice rising a few octaves.

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Oh, I hope that that's not a problem,' he said. 'I wanted you to feel...at home.' Inside, he wore a very very very big scowl, as each word tasted acidic. But on the outside, he had an easy smile.

Comprehension dawned on her and then she let out another doctor's-appointment-squeal. She pulled Harry to him, and embraced him tightly. 'I had no idea you felt that way, Harry,' she murmured into his ear. 'And you still look very ...sexy.'

The smug look disappeared clean off his face and he bit his tongue, not wanting to be rude. He closed his eyes, imagining Ginny and her eyes and her smile and her hair and her laugh...

He drew away from Sabine, ten times calmer than before.

'It's ... good to see you again.'

She smiled. 'Same here,' she said, trying to grab his hand, but he very cleverly shoved both into the pockets his pyjama pants so kindly offered him.

'How's your sister?' he asked politely, leading her to the dining room.

'Well, you'll find out tomorrow,' she said, rolling her eyes.

'Tomorrow?' he asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face her.

'Yes...Hermy didn't mention anything?' she asked, and Harry watched in mild repulsion as her pupils dilated in their sparkly blue surroundings. He took a step away from her.

'Uh, no...'

'Oh! Well, you have a date –' Harry didn't miss how she made a face at this, '-with her tomorrow evening.'

He took in a calm breath, focusing on Ginny again. 'Is that so?'

'You can call it off if you want!' Sabine said eagerly.

Harry thought of Hermione and her unfortunate predicament. 'No, no. It's fine,' he said in a dejected sigh. The things friends did for each other...

'Supper?' Sabine asked excitedly, when they entered the dining room.

Harry nodded, chivalrously seating her at the head of the table. She beamed. 'Good! Because I'm absolutely starving!'

Harry sat at the foot of the table – five chairs down from her. She frowned at this, and was about to say something when –

'Doppy!' Harry called.

A loud pop stung the air, and an elf dressed in shorts and a vest appeared. 'Mr Harry called, Sir?'

'Yes,' Harry said, attempting to smile but the news about Astina Carmell still disturbed him.. 'Please could you get us the…' he bent down to whisper the rest in the elf's ear. Sabine was paying keen attention to her nails, so she missed the entire exchange.

'Of course,' the elf said, bowing. He popped out of sight, and returned a second later with dishes in his hand.

Sabine stared down at her plate, her eager smile morphing into a straight line, and then her mouth dropped open unattractively.

'The Harry Potter specialty,' Harry said, indicating the food. Noticing her shock, the smug smile reappeared. He proceeded to dig into his food happily.

Sabine looked up at him aghast. 'The Harry Potter specialty is…bread and butter?'

Harry looked up, as if concerned. 'Oh, I'm so sorry! Doppy!'

Pop!

'Mr Harry?'

'You forgot the cheese.'

-to be continued-

A/N: Okay, so I placed a lot of focus on Harry and Ron – especially Harry – but I don't want the story to be just about Dramione. They have friends, too : )