Disclaimer: I don't own HP. And that fact just makes me sad, considering JK is a Ron-Hermione Shipper :(

Chapter 2: Love Quandaries

Hermione was waiting at the Gryffindor table, sitting beside Ginny. "I wonder what happened to Harry."

Hermione Granger was well aware that her two best friends often enjoyed getting into a wee bit of trouble now and then, here and there. But Harry? By himself? This perplexed her indeed. She was thinking if Ron – the idiot – slipped him something in his sleep to make his mind a little woozy. After all, if anyone were to blame for any stupidity, it sure as hell wouldn't be Harry…

Hermione was lost in her thoughts, leaning against her upright arm in a way that reminded her of the thinker, when Ginny just scoot over, hip to hip-close with her. "Well 'Mione, I heard from Patil, who heard from Padma, who heard from…"

"Oh, get to the point Ginny."

"Harry punched the mirror in the 6th Year's bathroom…"

"He what?!"

Hermione knew Harry lost his hat sometimes…but this was just plain stupid…no, bordering on Gilderoy Lockhart–mad

"He did more that that 'Mione. He cracked the wall behind it, and made the roof cave in. Professor Snape saved the boys, but Harry soon fainted."

Hermione was close to being the one who fainted…

"Speak of the devil…" Harry and Ron came into view, and as soon as he was in earshot. "Harry! What in the world were you thinking?!"

She wanted to put herself against his chest and beat him senseless…not that her girly-frame would allow, but that was the idea.

"Save your breath Hermione. He doesn't remember any of it, and after seeing the reading from his spirit gauge, I wish I could do the same."

"Spirit…guage?"

"A spirit gauge is an enchanted orb atop a helmet that shows your magical prowess, Ginny."

"Erm, yeah…one of those. I scored an eight, he scored a…"

"Merlin. I scored a bloody Merlin!"

"Merlin, Harry? How's that possible? The only three people in recorded history to have that level of power are Gellert Grindelwald, Tom Riddle, and Albus Dumbledore!"

"C'mon Hermione" Ron began. "There have been a lot of other wizards who probably scored a Merlin on that thing"

"I said RECORDED history Ron. It was created a few years before the Professor Dumbledore was even born, so if there were any, the books wouldn't know any of them."

"Bloody Hell, how do you know these things anyway?!"

"Because she's Hermione Jean Granger…Ronald." She said with a sarcastic laugh and a twinkle in her eye that reminded Harry of Dumbledore's. Somehow, he thought she might have insinuated Ron had feelings for…no no no. Couldn't be. He couldn't stand her, he laughed to himself.

"Well said Ginny." Harry said with a grin. Ginny blushed, and Ron smacked her on the shoulder. "Oh? Is Ginerva still blushing at the every word from the mouth of Harry Potter? Awww…that's so cute. Too bad he's still locking lips with Cho. Maybe in another lifetime, Ginerva."

Hermione glared at Ron with a look ready to kill. "Ron, Harry's broke up with Cho last year, and you know it."

Harry could only look away, the burn on his heart from hearing that name blasting at his loins. Just for saying the name, he wanted to wring his best friend's neck.

Ginny herself would have none of it. She had made a mad dash for the common room, bumping into Colin Creevey, and making him fall onto the bosom of a Ravenclaw (who slapped him pretty hard), as she held her hands up to hide her falling tears.

"You hot-aired toad. You can forget about tonight!" Hermione stomped on Ron's foot, leaving him hopping up and down before she went running after Ginny. Harry just sit down.

"Hell hath no fury like a witch scorned, mate." Harry said eating a bit of Scone. "I wouldn't chase after them if I were you. They're likely to hex you for that remark."

"Women…" Ron said as he sat down beside Harry. He proceeded to eating a bit of Raspberry Pancakes that apparated onto the plate in the middle of the table. "Who needs 'em anyway?"

"You, apparently. Maybe if you stopped being such an ass to the ones you're related to (gulp), the ones who aren't might actually start liking you."

"You're one to (munch) talk."

"Well, seeing that you're not in a steady relationship, being your best friend I think it's my duty to tell you that…" Harry trailed off a little before saying on a more hardly audible note "That wasn't funny you know, bringing (munch) Cho into this."

"Whatever, 'Merlin'. She wasn't (slurp) worth your time anyway." He said as he slurped a swig of pumpkin juice into his mouth. "All she could think about was a dead guy while you two were snuggling at a Valentine's date."

That proved to be the last straw for him.

"Ron! Cedric Diggory died two feet away from me. I'd appreciate it if you'd at least not call him just some 'dead guy'. What's up your dunghole today anyway? Why do you have to be so damn violent?" Harry said as he stuffed his face with a muffin.

"MY BLOODY BEST FRIEND NEARLY KILLS ME THE SAME MINUTE I CHECK ON HIM OUT OF WORRY, THAT'S WHY!" He said, standing up and banging his fists on the long table. His eyes reminded him of a Death Eater's, ready to blow and shoot a hex his way. "Bloody hell, Harry! Bloody screaming murder! You've got a fortune, everyone knows you by the bloody scar on your head. You're the boy who lived! And all I'll ever be is freckle-faced, dirt-poor, brotherly-used secondhand gift receiver, Ron Weasley. Everytime you've come an inch close to seeing death, you survive. Everytime I do, I faint! You're must be so bloody used to it by now 'Arry, but not me. Is it so beyond you to understand that sometimes, we mortals MIGHT have a bad day by just being close to it?!"

Harry gulped down his half-chewed Blueberry pastry and downed a glass of Pumpkin juice before going after Ron, who proceeded to take his heavy steps towards the Gryffindor Common room.

"Aw, a lover's quarrel so early in the morning Potter?" A smug look was on Malfoy's face, and Harry wasn't in the mood to bother. He walked passed him, and Crabbe, ever the bumbling idiot of a follower, stood in his way. "Don't you turn your back on me Potter!"

Harry knew with that specific choice of words, that Draco had pulled a wand on him. The look on his face shifted from worried, to angry. Of all the days to step on his toes, the blonde pig had to pick THIS one.

It was then that the enchanted lights began to dim. Russet colors began to shoot in from the stained glass windows. Harry stopped on his feet. "Better, now stop staring at Crabbe and Goyle, and turn your head to me. Or else I'll take that good for nothing red headed whore of yours and bring her to bed tonight." Harry was silent for a minute. Malfoy saw his fist stiffen. "Ah, I see you LIKE that idea. Maybe she could show me her dirty fantasies. Hehehehe" Harry turned to glare at the oaf that blocked his way. The thought of his best friend's sister was angering in itself, much more if it were forced sex. Draco crossed the line this time, and Harry was aching to make him pay.

Harry just glared at one of them. Then, Crabbe suddenly fainted, and Goyle soon followed when he turned to face him. Malfoy began to shudder, now wondering how Harry dispatched the two goons with apparently, just a glare. Harry turned slowly to the Slytherin pureblood, and Malfoy dropped his wand instantly.

"Slytherin's cloak! His…his eyes!" He said as he began to crawl backwards, away from Harry in a panic.

Harry walked slowly toward Malfoy, not breaching eye contact. Pointing a finger at him, Malfoy was suddenly catapulted across the great hall, landing on Snape. All the students in the hall felt a chill up their spine. To some, this was familiar. They watched Harry get engulfed in an aura of emerald blaze. Familiar indeed…most had only seen that same aura in the books, and that was from the backside. No one dared peer into the dead eyes and snake-like nose slits borne by the only other person who wore that glow.

Snape went towards him, bewildered as he stood a foot before his student. His eyes were glowing the same way as…Voldemort's. Just when he was going to pull his wand out, Harry mumbled Mjollnirata just under his breath. At this, Snape cried sharply as a hammer-like light construct swept downward out of nowhere, and bludgeoned his wand, cracking it into splintered pieces before knocking him on his royal ass. A peal of thunder echoed through the hall. Thor was probably rolling in his place in Asgard at that moment. Hastae Pilum. A huge spear-like construct like the hammer appeared above Harry's head. For the first time in front of the Slytherins, Severus Snape was not only under the mercy of Harry Potter, but looked the part as well. Without a wand, Harry pointed his right index finger upwards, and the tip of the spear moved pointed upwards. With a swift motion, he pointed at Snape, and the spear flew true.

Some screamed, some looked away, but even Harry was surprised to see an advanced shield charm that had protected Snape from the impact. He looked to see where, and from behind him a voice slowly said. "I'm sorry Harry." He looked behind him just in time to hear "Stupefy".

Harry woke up in a comfy chair. The first thing he saw was Fawkes perched on his lap. Fawkes was a fantastic creature. He saved his life once, Harry thought to himself. Tears that heal any wound – brilliant familiar Fawkes was. The great bird then flew back to its cage. "Ah, Harry. You've awakened."

"Headmaster? I…owww"

"Head hurting? No memory of right before you fainted, probably after Draco held a wand at your back I believe."

"Yeah. Migrane's a bloody troll. How'd you know that?"

"Not surprising. You let out your core magic and you weren't ready for it."

Harry had no idea what he was talking about…but he remembered a bit of what his mother said "…the power within your core shall be released"

"Core…magic?"

"Yes. It is your innermost manifestation of magical strength. As you can recall, we have the same level of potential. Merlin level."

That was most surprising. HE has the potential of Dumbledore? Remembering the duel Dumbledore had with Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries a few weeks back, he was startled by illusionary dreams of grandeur, where instead of Dumbledore dueling with Voldemort in his head, it was him. Remembering how ultimately powerless he was before the dark lord at the cemetery where Cedric died, he had a feeling that that thought would most likely stay in the realm of imagination…

"But…I don't understand Professor. I've never experienced…this before"

Scratch that, he hardly even knew what 'this' kind of feeling was.

"That's why I brought you in here Harry, to explain. Each non-muggle has magical potential. Magical Potential, in essence, is the highest possible amount of magic a certain person is going to be able to produce at any given time. Most wizards, as I mentioned to you in the hospital wing, have a spirit gauge of 1-10. Muggles have nil; squibs, around 1-3; low-level wizards in potential have 4-5, well trained wizards who have increased their potential have 6-8, and masters have potential of 9-10."

"Where does Merlin come in?"

"To call it rare is an understatement. There have only been ten wizards I know who have that potential. You and I are two of them. It is a state far beyond the reaches of ordinary sorcerers."

"What, is it like 11-20? 100?"

"Close. 100…thousand"

Harry couldn't believe it. One hundred THOUSAND.

"But how can that be professor? I can probably do the same number of charms and hexes the rest of my grade level can cast. How is it that I have a power multiplied to that number? Is it even possible?!"

"Believe me Harry, I too was once shocked by the readings. That's why it's so hard to gauge. That's why anything above ten can just be signified by the word Merlin. Merlin lived in a world that was between reality and metaphysical reality. He was here, and he was there. He lived life backwards. His power was so immense, he chose to live life slowly finding ways to get back to the most essential, basic root of his own magic. If he used his spells constantly at his maximum strength, the energy he would release would shake the world from its axis."

Harry could say nothing, and Dumbledore continued.

"Thankfully, Tom Riddle doesn't have the same power as Merlin did, and neither do I. You, I am unsure."

"Me? But, how did I…achieve this potential? I'm not boasting when I say I know some good spells, but I'm not as good as the Aurors in the Order."

"Harry, it cannot be achieved by those who do not carry the destiny. And just because they know more spells does not judge the strength of theirs surpasses yours."

"You mean I was born with it?"

"Yes."

"But why hasn't it manifested until now?"

"Because it often manifests as soon as you near the age of seventeen. This was not the case with me though. As to why, I do not know, but in your case it lay dormant…until now. I had always wondered if you had the potential…now I know."

"Why?"

"I don't know myself Harry. Perhaps your mother's protective spell on you kept you safe enough that your psyche simply blocked it. But to have higher potential means more physical strength regardless of your frame, durability beyond measure, heightened senses, and unbelievable magical prowess. This is so, because you don't draw your magical force from a connection to the door, to the world of magic. You draw your power from the core force of all magic itself. Do you know what Professor Snape said you did to him today at the Great Hall?"

"I did something to Professor Snape?"

"You went into an anger trance, and in it, you knocked out Crabbe and Goyle, sent Draco flying across the hall, and into Professor Snape, who then proceeded to try and quell you. He failed. You crushed his wand with a bludgeoning spell, and then proceeded to skewer him with a spearing hex. You would have mortally wounded Harry, had I not cast a shield charm at him and knocked you out."

Harry was still beginning to comprehend this all. He remembered being angry. He didn't remember much of anything else. "Anger trance, professor?"

"Trances are emotional states which trigger your core to leak out your power. Anger was always Tom's form of trance-state. There are others: Disdain, Bliss, Fear, Contentment, and Oneness."

"Can you control it?"

"Yes you can. That is the other reason why I wanted to speak to you…I want to teach you how to use your potential…"

Ginny still lay in her bed, inconsolable despite Hermione's constant tries at it. Honestly, Hermione thought to herself that Ginny wore her heart on her sleeve. Kind of naïve and childish, but sometimes, she wished she had the same kind of bravery.

It was obvious since Harry saved her from the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. It was obvious at the Quidditch World Cup, it was obvious in her eyes when she watched Harry fight the Hungarian Horntail in the Triwizard Tournament…Quadwizard Tournament really…and it was obvious now. Ginerva Weasley was madly in love with Harry Potter. If Harry was still oblivious to her feelings, then he was obviously a blind dolt. Whether or not she preferred that thought over the one where he does notice, she didn't know - and for the record, the thought of him sharing the feeling scared her to death. She knew Harry was no idiot. Harry was a special guy. Harry probably knew…and the thought that he liked Ginny back disheartened her more than any other feeling.

"I can't believe Ron…"

"You did provoke Ronald Ginny."

"It doesn't matter. Why would it? Little sisters are supposed to make fun of their big brothers right?"

"I wouldn't know – I don't have any. But considering my girl best friend says so, I'll take her word for it."

Ginny threw the pillow she was crying on and just cried on Hermione. Hermione was torn between wanting to hold her for the reason to comfort her, or to have someone else to cry on. The thought of Harry being in love with Ginny was a welcome thought – after all, being the loving friend that Hermione was, the one thing she wanted for all the people she loved in her life was to be happy. But it also made her terribly sad.

"Do you think…Harry likes me?"

UGH (stabs herself with a rusty knife, again and again). That was the question she did not WANT to answer, much less admit to an answer at all.

"Ummm…yeah Ginny, Harry likes you. Why wouldn't he? I like you" she said, grinning as hard as she could that it was a wonder Ginny couldn't tell it looked bloody plastic.

"No, no, no Hermione. I mean does he like me like me? You know, the way Ronald likes you likes you. REALLY likes you."

"Wha…" Ok, mindwipe that last statement Ginny. Take it back, PLEASE. I like Ron, beyond all reason, as a friend, and yes I said we'd go out tonight supposedly (until he made an ass of himself), but that was ONLY because I was bored, and he had tickets to see Peanut Fairy – the opera, at Hogsmeade. I do NOT like Ron THAT way. He's nothing like my ideal guy. He's pompous, he's childish, his language is so base and hardly entertaining.

"Yes, Hermione. My brother loves you. He wants to marry you. He wants to name your kids Ronnie - Get it, the first three letters in Ronald, and the last syllable of your name? And Hermon - The first four letters of your name, and the last two of his? You two would look so great together…"

BARF. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Not to bash on the old chap per se. Ron is a wonderful guy, and he will be a wonderful father…but seriously…she had no intention of making Ron the father of her future kids.

"Ginny…I…like Ron but…"

"Which is why you agreed to going out with him right? I knew Peanut Fairy would get your attention. I told him you were raving about the review from the Daily Prophet for weeks," she added with a nice, wide grin.

No wonder that RON of all people knew EXACTLY what she wanted. How he even got those tickets was beyond her. Maybe he asked his father to fetch them for him. The star WAS Henry Puttwinkle of the Department of Mysteries. It should have been really easy for Mr. Weasley to procure even the rarest of seats if his – close friend perhaps, was the lead role in the dance reminiscent of the Nut Cracker. She had seen the Nut Cracker of course, back when she was a tot. Her father brought her to the Opera house in London. She still remembered the stillness of the air, when the ballerina flew through it, and twirled magically on stage. She was anxious to note the differences, knowing that the director of the Nut Cracker was actually related to the one who produced Peanut Fairy…

"Um…about that. I like Ron, but I don't…like him like him."

"But…" Ginny pushed her forward a bit, just to get a good look at her eyes. Ginny's eyes were indecipherable. There was a hint of sorrow – perhaps for her brother – and this glazed, perplexed look that seemed to mimic how Harry looked whenever he was thinking of his parents. She knew that look well. He had it on the bridge when they talked once. "You are giving him a chance right?"

"I…Ron is…"

"Of course you are. That's why you said you'd go out with him." She said, with a happy smile Hermione imagined, while she lay on her bosom, no longer crying. "You'll learn to love him Hermione. You're my best friend, and I know you'll learn, like I did growing up. I know he's a pain, but he's a certain pain you want to live with rather than without."

She was right at that last bit. Ron was loveable. He was atrociously despicable at his pranks, but growing up with him made Hermione care for him like she would a brother. But that was what she couldn't tell Ginny. She didn't have the heart to tell her, much less Ron, that to her, he was just a brother. She'd read all the books. Romance 101. Sweet Valley High. Love from the Heart…the word BROTHER was far worse than 'I don't love you like that'. It meant I do love you, but never enough…

"You'll see Hermione. You two will fall in love, get married, and when Harry and I – "

HARRY AND YOU?!

" – Get married too, we'll all visit one another, and I'll have the sister I always wanted. Step sister, yes, but sister nonetheless."

OH WIPE THAT SMILE OF YOUR FACE WEASLEY! Wait, wait…where is all this…emotion coming from? I, I like Harry, I want him to be happy. He probably knows Ginny likes him. Does he like…GAH…I don't want to think about it. He saved me from the Troll back before he even knew Ginny. Sure, he saved Ginny from a Basilisk, but he was older, and it wasn't without help – he had Fawkes. Fawkes could revive him from any ailment with Phoenix tears. With that troll, it was do or die, or watch me die. He risked the second to make sure the latter would not occur…he cared for me…

"Shhhh…"

Hermione just stroked her hair and held her friend whom she loved very much in her arms. Ginny needed comfort, and she felt like she was getting the wrong part of the deal, knowing that her delusional rambling was the source of her comfort, and caused Hermione so much more pain in the process. Part of her wanted to hex her for making her feel the way she felt, but she couldn't do that. She was thinking about it, but she was glad that Patil Parvati came in to break them up.

"Umm, hate to break up your sobfest comforting girls, but I think Ron needs some pacifying."

"(Sigh…) Let's go put a pacifier on your brother Gin." She said with a genuine smile. Seriously, Ron was hopeless. Hermione bated her breath, and promised to herself that in no possible future would she ever think of liking him romantically at all.

Ron was pacing back and forth in the common room so much, the people in the paintings were getting severely dizzied just following him.

SERIOUSLY. Hermione drives me bloody mad! Yes, she's a goddess, and she IS the only thing I think about nowadays – what with her hot curves, sultry lips, slender body and whatnot…but trying to understand just everything that comes out of that erudite mouth of hers – emotionally or literally – can drive any man bonkers!

Then, with a quick turn, he spun on his heel and just sat on the floor area close to the fireplace.

Fiddlesticks. I can't believe Hermione cancelled on me. To top it all off, I just screamed Harry's ears out, all from self-insecurity. Brilliant Ron, now everyone you care about must hate you…

"You know, mate, wanting her that bad will only get you more depressed."

"(Sigh…) What do you want Harry?"

"I came to see if you were…alright Ron."

"Well, you saw me, I'm alright. You can leave me to my solitude now…"

"Come off it Ron!" Harry said, bringing the Ron to his feet. He had half a mind to knock the brains out of his head – or maybe he'd have to kick his ass to get it out. Considering the way he was acting, it was probably somewhere aside from his head – but Harry kept his cool. His grip on his collar, though made him look otherwise. "I've had it with your bloody immature shenanigans. You're my best friend, and you know that I wish I didn't make you feel this way. But part of the reason you're my best friend is because I always knew you didn't see me as anything more than who I was. I knew you wouldn't see a damn legend, I damn well thought you'd just see Harry bloody Potter!"

The two stared eachother down, and the embers from the fireplace flickered as the first few remnants of dawn's light shot through the openings of the curtains.

"(Grunt) I guess not, huh?" Harry let out another grunt and let go of Ron's robes.

"Harry…"

Harry stopped in his tracks.

"Look Harry, I'm sorry ok? It's just that, Hermione was there you know? You know how much I like her don't you? I have since we met her in the express before we got sorted."

Harry had the look of death on him. It was a good thing Ron wasn't looking, lest his cover be blown in all obviousness. This honesty about his goddess didn't sit well with Harry. He was supposed to be supportive of Ron. True, that was his place as his best friend, but the sound of his and her name in the same sentence – regardless of whether or not it involved sitting in a tree, doing things he'd rather be the one enjoying – was just emotional torture. So much so, that the immediate thought of telling Ron about what Merlin-level core magic meant just fluttered into nothingness. He had half a mind to admit to him that it didn't matter to him if Ron liked Hermione. What mattered was that he liked her too.

"Ron, I know you like her. But there's something I need you to know. I like – "

"Ginny?"

"Gi…Ginny? Look, erm, mate I…What I meant to say was…"

"Oh come off it mate. I can tell by the tone of your voice, and the way you smile at her that you do. She likes you too you know – a lot. Ever since you saved her from the Chamber back in second year."

NO, you bumbling piss-filled lizard, I don't like Ginny. I like Hermione! I'm madly, truly, totally, deeply, magically, enchanted, spellbound, BONKERS IN LOVE with Hermione!

"Look Ron, I like Ginny, but…"

"Yes, yes, you're worried that I'll murder you. All things considered, I should, and I want to. I still don't see myself letting you snog her."

Harry suppressed this building mass of anger that he was feeling, just so Ron wouldn't have to feel the wrath of his "Merlin-level" powers – whatever that meant.

Damn you Ron Weasley. Damn you for wearing your heart on your sleeve. Just like your sister!

"Ron!"

"What? I'm just being honest. Just like I'm being honest about Hermione – "

DON'T YOU GO THERE RON! DON'T YOU GO THERE!

" – I love with Hermione Jean Granger. Always have, always will. I love her like the plague – It'll probably kill me. I love her like a sweet Butterbeers from Honeydukes – I just can't get enough. All other girls are pumpkin juice to me Harry. PUMPKIN JUICE! She is my rock, and my heaven!"

Ugh. Pumpkin juice. You tell me you love her, and you compare her to a butterbeer? You love her like the plague? Like a disease? Sheesh Ron, you're the disease!

Harry looked at Ron in disbelief. He had presently said that speech with his back turned, his fists in the air. Harry wanted the best for the people he loved. He didn't have much, and his so-called family wasn't much either. To him, Ron was a brother. An apparent git of a brother, who loved the same girl he did. But he didn't want to be petty. This was a silent proclamation. This day forth, Ron Weasley was his rival for the heart of Hermione, whom to Harry was "The One"

Little did Ron and Harry know just who was observing from the shadows - Three sets of eyes came lurking from the female common rooms. There were giggles, and a disparate sigh that echoed in the cobweb-strewn corridor that led to the female quarters. They had heard the whole thing...

Hermione had sighed the longest sigh. Patil knew better. It was obvious that she didn't feel the same way for Ron…but Ginny was way off mark…

"Oh come off it Hermione. I know you liked that. It was soooo sweet."

Hermione's eyes screamed "Godric Gryffindor, help me. This woman is blind!" – and she was glad that behind Ginny, Patil was shaking her head. This made her grin as she too, did the same. At least not EVERYONE was blind…

"That was…embarrassing…"

"Indeed. If my sister were here, she'd have squealed and gave off our position. Anyway, what do you intend to do Hermione?"

"What do you think she's going to do Patil? She's going to tell give him a piece of her mind."

Wow. For once, Ginny Weasley wasn't being a bumbling, naïve fool. That was EXACTLY what she was going to do.

Hermione stepped from the shadows, and the boys were damn-near startled to death.

"RON WEASLEY! I will not stand to be compared to something as base and FATTENING as a butterbeer! If you're wondering if we're still going out tonight – NO, we are not. You lost your chance when you acted like a twit towards your sister, and my best friend."

Ginny was shocked at this. The look on her face told Hermione "Ok, 'Mione, that wasn't what was going through my mind, but ok. That works too."

"Yeah. What kind of a guy thinks that women are nothing more than swigs of sweetness that are for nothing more than making your ass fat??"

"Come of Ginny, Hermione. Let's leave these two blokes to talk about trivial things, maybe about the next big thing in Quidditch or some green fantasies. (Giggle)"

As the girls made their statements about their opinions of Ron's lovey-dovey speech, the boys stood frozen. Harry was muttering slowly about something – probably in pity for his best friend's apparent wrong choice of words.

Bloody hell

"Harry, did you know about my date with Hermione tonight?"

"Sort of…I heard you guys were going to watch Peanut Fairy right? At the new Wizard Opera that opened at Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah…supposedly anyway. I went through all the trouble of asking my dad to get me two tickets…Right now though, I don't know if I want to go…"

"I'm sorry mate. Women are insane aren't they? I can't believe they connected butterbeers to the F word."

"The F word? That's rich Harry, that really is (laughs)."

"There you go, mate. Cheer up. She's just one girl you know. If she's not going out with you, I bet some other girl would. She's not the only person who wants to watch that performance."

"Eh, you're right about that mate. But I kinda don't wanna go anymore…"

"Oh. Well, it's a shame those tickets have to go to waste then..."

"Good point…Hey Harry – "

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favor and enjoy yourself tonight. Find someone to watch it with, and tell me how it was tomorrow. I feel like sleeping in today…"

Ron fingered his pockets for them, and threw the tickets in the air.

"Wait! Ron! Accio Tickets!"

The two tickets flew to Harry's hands, and Ron made his way up to the corridor that led to his bed. He seemed serious about it. Harry tried to catch up to him, but Ron put his hand up and signified that Harry didn't have to.

"Have fun Harry…"

"C'mon mate. We can go together."

Ron stopped at this, turned to scream something at Harry.

"Together mate? C'mon Harry. Two guys, best friends since first year, go to a magic ballet performance? Do you know what kind of gossip that would cause??"

It then dawned on Harry – as the look on his face made it apparent to Ron – that it was common knowledge that the only people who go to those things are Purebloods who love the classics, old people, couples, girls…and gays.

"Great Merlin's Ghost! You're right!"

"Of course I am. Now get your ass out into the castle grounds and hook a girl to get to go with you. If anyone asks for me…I'll be in bed…"

To be continued…