"Harry, I'm afraid I have something to tell you." Ginny sighed, biting her lower-lip as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower. "You know our marriage has been shaky, and after that disastrous third honeymoon to Antigua last week, I have a confession to make. Harry… I've been cheating on you with Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and Neville. All at once. And so, I feel I must tell you, I am pregnant. With quintuplets. And I haven't the foggiest as to who's they are." She hesitated. "I understand if you want to sell the summer home in Ireland, the boat house in the South of France, the haunted castle in Transylvania, and the six million galleon resort getaway in Los Angeles, California. I suppose it's lucky for you that the prenuptial agreement you impersiused me into signing leaves me with nothing." Her face was held in a convincing expression that was solemn and forlorn, until Harry spoke.
"Yup. Lucky for me. Otherwise you might have taken the flying manor sculpted entirely of ice in the North Pole, and you know how fond I am of the neighbors." Harry replied, just as solemnly, and then, in a lower voice, "And the brats are Malfoy's from what I hear."
"Well-" Ginny said through hysterical giggles, "Thank you for clearing that up for me, then, I was hoping for blondes."
After a few moments of laughter, Harry remembered something.
"Hey- what d'you know about Lucy Rigby?"
Ginny frowned. "Lucy? She's the blonde, right? Big fan of Rita Skeeter?"
"Yeah." Harry nodded.
"She's in my year, our year, I guess you'd say now, but she was Beuxbatons up till last year, her mum went there. She must have liked Hogwarts, if she's decided to stay. She's editor of the Hogwash."
"Er- what is the Hogwash, exactly?" he had now heard it mentioned twice this evening, and still had no idea what it was.
"School newspaper. It started last year, as an underground thing- the name fools people, see, because it seems like a load of rubbish from the front cover- and some of it is a load of rubbish, of course, gossip and all that- but the Carrows never bothered with it if they saw it, they were a bit thick, y'know. The Hogwash was really telling things the way they were, you know, the war and all. They'd mention you, now and then... what they thought you were up to." She said the last few sentences softer than the rest. Clearly the newspaper had been at least a small comfort to Ginny in the past year.
"And- and this girl was in charge?"
Ginny laughed. "I suppose she attacked you with the rumor mill, then? She's a gossip; believes every rumor she hears, but she's harmless for the most part. There is the Rita fetish, though; I think that's who she aspires to be. It's a bit disgusting, actually, if you know how she really is, but Lucy's not awful."
"She in Slytherin?" Harry asked warily.
"Ravenclaw." Ginny shrugged. "She's not really so bad, Harry. I expect she'll be hounding us for a few weeks, but I wouldn't worry too much about her."
They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, but were waiting for Ron and Hermione, who had the password. They caught up in a moment, each looking a bit breathless. Hermione's blush more or less gave away any chance at hiding what the couple had been doing.
"Fanged Geranium." Hermione said quickly, avoiding Harry and Ginny's eyes. The Fat Lady swung open, and Hermione turned to leave. "G'nightthen." She muttered, as if she was quick and quiet enough, she would be able to slip away unnoticed.
"Where're you going?" Ron demanded, grabbing her wrist, "Not the library, Hermione, really, it's our first night back!"
"I'm going to bed." She muttered, deliberately not looking at him.
Ron frowned. "Hermione, the dormitory is in there." He said slowly.
"Ron!" she cried, "I thought you knew- Heads have a separate tower to themselves, you see?"
"Heads- heads- as in you and the Head Boy?" he asked incredulously.
"Unless you were expecting them to appoint two Head Girls, Ron." Ginny joked, earning nothing but glares from her brother.
"Ron, it's really not such a big deal-"
"You and some bloke, in your own tower? Alone?"
"There are two separate rooms, Ronald." Hermione said impatiently.
"BUT YOU'RE IN THERE TOGETHER? THERE'S NO WAY-"
Harry looked to Ginny nervously. She seemed to agree that now would be an excellent time to retire to the common room.
---
The following morning, Harry awoke early to the sound of Ron pacing and muttering to himself. Harry sat up, groaned and groped around for his glasses, which were on the floor beside his bed. "Ron- what're you-" but Ron was unresponsive. He didn't seem to be aware that Harry, or anyone else, was present in the room.
"He's been like this for hours." Came a thick mutter from the next bed. Harry looked around to find Dean Thomas, staring towards Ron with a mixture of annoyance and sympathy, annoyance being more prominent by far.
"Just like this?" Harry asked warily, looking towards his best friend, who appeared quite deranged.
"Gets worse every once in awhile. Keeps running around, rambling about Hermione and some Ravenclaw bloke."
"Head Boy." Harry muttered back. "He and Hermione a row last night. Ron didn't know about the living circumstances."
Dean chuckled, and both of them rose from their four-posters, wondering what to do with the crazy person pacing their dorms.
Somehow, Harry, Dean, and Neville, who was returning for the first half of the term, managed to get Ron down to breakfast, where they were serving food far more heavenly than Harry had remembered.
Harry and Ginny watched Ron with a twisted sort of amusement as he went about breakfast without speaking, except for the occasional swear. He seemed to be holding a grudge against the food, the way he was going about cutting it. Hermione looked annoyed, if not furious, while she watched this behavior, and seemed to be wondering for the seven millionth time why she was dating such an imbecile. Harry fought back the urge to grin as she stuck up her nose toward Ron as she left the table, because he knew perfectly well that she would never end things.
Ginny did grin, suppressing only a giggle, and looked at Harry, her brown eyes twinkling.
Glancing at his best friend, who was currently venting his frustration with Hermione on an innocent piece of toast, Harry grinned back. Harry grinned back at his fiancée, who was not Head Girl, and therefore not sharing a room with anyone other than a bunch of girls, who was smart and tough and funny and ridiculously beautiful. Harry had never felt so lucky in his life.
---
Upon Harry and Ginny's entrance to Charms, Professor Flitwick hopped onto his chair, gave a high, merry laugh, and burst into applause.
Harry thought this was odd, but as it turned out, Professors in general were at their strangest when confronted with two students engaged to be married. Along with Charms, they took Transfiguration and Potions on Monday, and each of their teachers behaved as just as oddly. McGonagall had actually taken Ginny's hand, studied the ring carefully, and looked up at the two of them teary-eyed.
"So like your father, Potter." She said quietly, and smiled faintly as they took their seats awkwardly.
Slughorn congratulated Harry, adding in a quieter voice, "Don't get that one upset with you, or you'll be sleeping on the sofa amidst a crowd of Bat Bogeys!"
"You'd better believe it." Ginny called from her seat, earning laughter and applause from her fellow girls, and a nervous stare from Harry.
When his potions work was considerably worse than it had been in his sixth year, Slughorn attributed it to being, "young and in love." In reality, it was the absence of the Half-Blood Prince that was causing his potion to emit completely undesired red and black smoke and a honking noise. Harry's stomach lurched as the thought of Snape invaded his head. He had been so convinced that he was evil, up to no good as usual; never once had he considered Snape's goodness.
Dumbledore, inevitably, had been right all along. Harry frowned, trying to push these thoughts out of his head. Predictably, this didn't actually work. When had it ever?
---
On the eighth floor of Hogwarts was a painting so boring, tasteless, and all together unnoticeable that it was rarely glanced at by more than two seventh year students each year. Tonight, though, it had become one of the most-noticed spots in the entire castle. Because on the floor under the portrait was a pillow, a blanket, and a single sleeping bag, occupied by an apparently extremely annoyed Ron Weasley.
He was obviously awake, staring at the portrait hole, with an odd flesh colored string connecting his ear to the surface of the painting. Each passerby was either worried or simply amused at the sight, and Harry, as he walked by, couldn't decide on one or the other.
"Ron." He said slowly, "What are you doing?"
"Hermione is in there with a bloke." Ron responded angrily, without taking his eyes off of the portrait, as if this answer explained Ron's actions completely.
"Nothing is going on between Hermione and-" Harry broke off, sick of being patient. "Ron, get up. This is ridiculous, you are making a fool of yourself."
"No." Ron said stubbornly. "I'm staying out here."
"You are not." Came a sharp reply from Ginny, who had noticed the scene and come to investigate. "Get up, Ron. Don't be a git."
"Shut up, Ginny." He grumbled, without looking at her, "I don't need your advice."
Ginny smirked. "I suppose you're right." Grinning mysteriously, she stepped over him, banged on the portrait hole (much to the subjects angry objection) and cried, "Hermione! Get out here!"
"Ginny! What are you-" but Ron didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, because Hermione promptly stuck her head out of the portrait hole.
"Yes?" Ginny and Harry simply pointed downward in response. Hermione's eyes narrowed, glanced towards the floor, and rolled up at the ceiling. She stepped down out of the hole, and crossed her dressing gown clad arms.
"Ronald." She said, her voice oozing with the fake sweetness that signified obvious anger. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
"I think that's our cue to leave." Ginny said cheerfully, and she and Harry headed down the hall, leaving Ron to the wrath of Hermione.
---
"Ron, if you can't trust me, than I don't see how this relationship is going to work." She said angrily, her bushy hair full of frizz and static from anger.
"I do trust you!" He burst out, jumping up from the sleeping bag.
"Really, Ron? If you trust me, than why are you camping in front of my tower, listening in?"
"I didn't hear anything."
"Because there's nothing to hear! Terry is upstairs asleep, and I'm reading."
"Reading?" Ron replied suspiciously.
"Yes, Ron, reading. I know it's a foreign concept to you, but-"
"Just reading?"
"Just reading."
"What book?"
"Pride and Prejudice."
"Never heard of it." Ron said angrily.
"It's a Muggle book."
"Well, that's convenient." He muttered.
"I am not making it up! Pride and Prejudice is a literary classic!"
"Literary classic, Merlin's-"
"Ron!"
looking at him with eyes blazing, she turned away angrily.
"I'll see you in the morning." She grumbled. "Maybe."
She stood up and walked towards the extrememly irritated portrait, and said the password under her breath, knowing that Ron would most certainly break in if he knew what it was.
"Hermione!" Ron burst out angrily, banging on the door, "C'mon, Hermione, come back-"
"What?" She screamed, swinging the door open but keeping her back to him.
"I love you." He said cheerily, a grin on his face.
She whirled around, and sighed, trying desperately not to give into the smile that was fighting at the corners of her mouth.
She walked towards him, and kissed him gently before backing away.
"I love you too." She said, losing the battle with her smile. "But, Merlin, Ron, if you don't stop behaving like a jealous arse over nothing-"
Ron nodded, kissing her again to cut her off. "Yeah. You'll love me even more."
A/n: so I'm not crazy about this chapter… it's kind of filler, I guess, but next will be better… I hope… Oh: something useful- I need ideas for the new DADA teacher. I don't want an OC, but… I'm not sure who I can use that's canon. If you have a suggestion, review and I will love you forever. Review, period, and I will love you forever.