"You didn't tell me Malfoy brought back a lethifold from your pilgrimage," Harry said to Hermione, surprised at how accusing his tone sounded. The two of them were on the back porch of Grimmauld Place, drinking lemonade and enjoying the balmy July weather. They'd just rehashed their interviews at the Ministry, Harry for a position in Magical Games and Sports, Hermione for one in Spell Research. Like everyone else, Hermione had been shocked to learn Harry didn't want to become an Auror, but she understood, unlike everyone else, that Harry was simply ready for a break from fighting evil. His interview with former professor Grubbly-Plank had gone quite well, as had Hermione's with Tofty, the same man who'd administered some of their OWL and NEWT practical exams. But now, Harry wasn't thinking of his interview. He was thinking of the night one week ago when Malfoy had crawled through his window.

"How'd you know that?" Hermione shuddered. "I hated that thing. He gave it a name and everything. He claims it got attached to him, but he's the one who's attached. It was even there around his neck when we broke up. Or whatever that was."

"I only know because it came through my window two weeks ago," Harry said. "And Malfoy followed it."

"What? How? Why?"

"Hell if I know," said Harry. "But it was there, and it tried to hurt me, and then Malfoy called it off and we had a brief conversation that ended extremely awkwardly. Is he gay, by any chance?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Possibly. I had my suspicions. He dresses so well, and his flat is extremely well decorated, and he didn't ever have any interest in sleeping with me."

"Really? Because that's all that George seemed to care about most of the time."

"We did snog quite a bit, but he never touched my breasts, which was strange, because when I was with Ron, that's about all he did, unless he—"

"You don't have to keep going with that," said Harry.

Hermione laughed. "I don't know why the lethifold would've come here, though. There is one explanation, but it's just so off the mark that I don't understand how it's possible."

"And what's that?"

"Well, lethifolds are more complex than anyone really realizes, in an emotional sense. They're quite like us, in a way," Hermione said fondly. Harry avoided gagging as she continued, "And they have an innate sense of what the nearest human seems to need, and where to find it. Now, I don't know why Draco would have needed you. Maybe there's something or someone threatening him and he needs your protection."

"Well, that's no good."

"But it's better than the alternative, isn't it?" Hermione smiled wryly.

"What alternative?"

"Draco Malfoy could be in love with you, Harry," she said, looking as though she was holding back a laugh.

"I don't think that's true somehow," said Harry, feeling a bit sick.

"Well, he did seem to quite like me for a few weeks. 60 days of delusion, I call it now."

"Wait. 60 days? That's how long I was with George, too."

"And how long I was with Ollie!"

Harry and Hermione turned around to see Ron standing behind them. Ron was wearing sandals with straps, what looked to be paper thin shorts, possibly made of paper, and a tight t-shirt. He looked nothing like what he used to—and Hermione, from the expression on her face, seemed not to mind at all.

"You and Ollie—Oliver—aren't together anymore?" Harry asked. "And it's nice to see you, by the way."

"Nice to see you, too. And you, Hermione. I'm going to go get a glass from the kitchen." Ron ran inside and Harry exchanged a look of confusion with Hermione.

"60 days," she marveled. "So strange."

"Right. About as strange as Ron looks."

"He doesn't look strange. He looks wonderful."

Harry laughed and Hermione struck him on the arm.

"Oi, you two fighting over me, then?" Ron asked, pouring himself a glass of lemonade and sitting down next to Hermione so the three of them were facing each other in a semi-circle. "I know I look good."

"Sorry, Ron. You're not my type," said Harry with a grin.

"My brother, but not me? I'm hurt, Harry. At least I can count on you, right?" Ron looked at Hermione, who blushed.

"You said you were with Oliver 60 days?"

Ron nodded. "I just looked at him one morning and didn't really like his muscles or his smile or his hair anymore."

"He always did have awful hair," Harry agreed. "It's just really weird, don't you think? I broke up with George on our 63rd day together, but I'd been putting it off for three days."

"And Draco and I had a fight on the 60th day and I was back in London within minutes," said Hermione. "Apparently Harry's good at dragging this kind of thing out."

"Three days isn't that many, is it?" Harry looked to Ron for affirmation.

"Not too long," Ron said agreeably. Harry smiled, glad to have his best male friend back. And from the way Ron's hand was grazing rather closely to Hermione's arm, the two of them seemed quite glad, too. Ron confirmed that with his next comment. "I'm hoping three days is long enough for the two of us to be back together."

"Ronald!"

"What? You know we still loved each other, even when we didn't."

"That doesn't make any sense," Hermione said.

"No, it makes all the sense in the world," Ron insisted, putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing. "Will you help me forget about how mental the last 60 days have been?"

"Only if you'll help me do the same," said Hermione, grinning.

"I'd say I don't believe this, but I do," Harry said, shaking his head as Ron kissed Hermione on the cheek and the two of them held hands. "Now what am I supposed to do, pretend I'm interested in women and find someone that way? I know the whole hero thing hasn't played out quite yet."

"There's always Draco, you know," Hermione said with a giggle.

"Malfoy? Why him?" Ron looked confused.

"No reason, Ron," said Harry, shooting a glare at Hermione, who giggled some more. "No reason at all."