Rain was splattering the window as Harry Potter lay in bed on another miserable afternoon at Number Four, Privet Drive. The weather this summer could not have been more different than the last; most days had been cool, wet, and dreary, whereas last year had brought sickening levels of heat and humidity. As Harry stared at the ceiling, it felt like the weather was a physical manifestation of his mood. He had spent last summer in a state of fiery rage and bitterness, locked away from the wizarding world after Voldemort's return with no information; now, he felt a cold, dead emptiness; there was a gaping hole in his chest where his godfather had once resided; a hole of his own creation. It was his fault that he was dead. All his fault.

Ron and Hermione had both sent him letters, but they sat on his bedside desk, unopened. Last summer he would have torn open these letters in a heartbeat, eager to hear information about Voldemort, but he had no desire to hear from them this time. He was especially averse to opening Hermione's. Every time he looked at the envelope, all he could think of was her voice warning him not to go to the Ministry and telling him that he had a 'saving-people-thing' that Voldemort was counting on to lure him there. He hated how right she had been. If only he had listened. If only he hadn't flown off the handle, and actually thought things through before acting… if he only had opened that stupid package that Sirius had given him… the one that contained the two-way mirror, the mirror that he had smashed in frustration back in his Hogwarts dormitory…

Out of all the guilty, miserable thoughts that Harry had, nothing ate at him quite like the ones about the mirror. Why… why hadn't he opened that package? Why had he let himself forget about it? None of it would have happened… Sirius would be alive… he wouldn't have almost gotten all his friends killed doing Voldemort's bidding at the Ministry… everything would be the way it was… if only he had opened that stupid, fucking package. He would gladly suffer through another year of being smeared as a loony liar by the Ministry if it meant getting his godfather back.

Harry sat bolt upright as a loud SMACK! rang through the room. Looking towards the source of the noise, he saw an owl had flown right into the window. He recognized it: it was Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon. Wondering why Ron had sent him another letter before he had even sent one back, he got up and opened the window to let the owl in, which promptly started shooting around the room excitedly, its flapping wings spraying rainwater everywhere.

"Settle down, you prat," Harry hissed. "The Dursleys will rip me a new one if they see water spots all over the walls."

The owl continued to chatter and buzz excitedly around the room until finally allowing Harry to take the soaking letter. It gave a delighted hoot and shot back out the open window into the monsoon, and Hedwig gave an indignant hoot from her cage in response and spread her wings out importantly.

Harry carefully opened the envelope, fearing the letter inside may be ruined by the rain, but it was perfectly dry. He figured the Weasleys had probably charmed all their stationery to account for less-than-stellar travel conditions.

The writing was not Ron's. Upon noticing this, his immediate thought was that it must have instead been from Mrs. Weasley; the handwriting certainly had a girlish quality to it. He glanced down at the signature before reading a word of it and, to his surprise, saw that it was from Ginny.

Ginny had never written to him before. Of course, he had never really gotten to know her properly until last year, so maybe it shouldn't have been that surprising, and as she had comforted him in the wake of Sirius' death, he was not dreading hearing what she had to say.

He read the letter and was relieved to see there was nothing in there about his godfather or their ordeal at the Ministry. Instead, he just got a look into how their summer was going; she offered to have Mrs. Weasley send him food in the event that the Dursleys weren't feeding him, but Harry hadn't had much of an appetite this summer anyway. She mentioned a houseguest that was driving Mrs. Weasley crazy but that Ron apparently liked, then made a joke about Ron's crush on Hermione, and then finished by telling him that she was looking forward to playing Quidditch with him over the summer. He looked at the second sentence again… I know Mum wants to have you over as soon as possible, hopefully she can persuade Dumbledore. But would Dumbledore be persuaded? Mrs. Weasley had told him the same thing back at King's Cross, but he had no expectation that he would be leaving here anytime soon. He knew why Dumbledore kept sending him back to Privet Drive over the summer now, and if he didn't want Harry to leave, then he wouldn't be leaving, period.

Harry read through the letter again. He felt oddly comforted by it. It was a nice, if momentary, distraction from everything. He wondered who the houseguest was. I don't think Ron minds her… so it was a woman, whoever it was, but that didn't narrow it down much. Who would be driving Mrs. Weasley crazy, though?

Not having the energy to give it any more thought, however, he placed the letter on his bedside desk on top of Ron and Hermione's unopened ones and began wallowing in his misery once more. His room was like a prison with nothing but his own depressing thoughts for company, thoughts he was forced to relive every waking hour of the day. Neither could live while the other survives… How was he supposed to survive a duel with the Darkest, most dangerous wizard of all time?

It was perhaps another hour before he heard a tap on the window. There was another owl, but this one was much nicer looking and far less boisterous than Pigwidgeon. He opened the window again and took the letter that was attached. The thin, slanted writing on the envelope was one Harry recognized at once. This letter was from Albus Dumbledore.


Ginny was awakened shortly before eight on Saturday morning by the sound of people hurrying up and down the stairs outside her door. She got up slowly, and when she arrived down in the kitchen for breakfast, Fleur was already seated at the table while Mum was at the stove, cooking bacon, eggs, and sausage.

"Good morning, Geeny!" said Fleur in an annoying sing-song voice that one might use when speaking to a small child.

"Good morning," said Ginny politely, hoping that the smile she put on her face was convincing.

"Toast, Ginny?" asked Mum.

"Yes, please. Dad at work?"

"Yes. Poor thing must be exhausted, as much as he's had to work this week… he said he should be home by three today, though. Hopefully that means he gets all of Sunday off…"

Mum went to grab a slice of bread to toast as Ginny sat down at the table.

"Is Harry here yet?" she asked.

"Yes, he arrived last night in fact."

" 'Arry ees 'ere?" squawked Fleur excitedly. Ginny regretted asking immediately.

"I'm making breakfast to take up for him as we speak," said Mum.

"I 'aven't seen 'im in forever," purred Fleur.

"Be right back," said Ginny. "Bathroom."

If Ginny had been trying to lose weight, she may have found a use for Fleur, for her presence made an excellent appetite suppressant. She made her way up to Fred and George's room, where Mum had said Harry would be sleeping. Pausing outside the door, she heard his voice.

"He looks a bit like a walrus and he used to be Head of Slytherin. Something wrong, Hermione?"

"No, of course not!" came Hermione's voice. "So, um, did Slughorn seem like he'll be a good teacher?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "He can't be worse than Umbridge, can he?"

"I know someone who's worse than Umbridge," said Ginny, barging into the room. "Hi, Harry."

"What's up with you?" said Ron, who was unsurprisingly in the room with them, sitting on a cardboard box they had moved in there when making the house presentable for Fleur.

"It's her," said Ginny, sitting down on the edge of Harry's bed next to Hermione. "She's driving me mad."

"What's she done now?" said Hermione sympathetically.

"It's the way she talks to me — you'd think I was about three!"

"I know," said Hermione. "She's so full of herself."

"Can't you two lay off of her for two seconds?" snapped Ron.

"Oh, that's right, defend her," said Ginny. "We all know you can't get enough of her."

"Who are you — ?" said Harry, who looked bewildered, but at that moment the door flew open and Harry instinctively yanked the bedcovers up to his chin so hard that Hermione and Ginny slid off the bed onto the floor.

Fleur was standing there with a loaded breakfast tray.

" 'Arry," she said in that infuriating coquettish voice. "Eet 'as been too long!"

Ginny and Hermione got to their feet as Mum appeared behind Fleur, looking sour.

"There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!"

"Eet was no trouble," said Fleur, setting the tray across Harry's knees and then swooping to kiss him on each cheek. Harry blushed. Ginny could only be thankful she hadn't eaten yet. "I 'ave been longing to see 'im. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about 'Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again."

"Oh… is she here too?" Harry croaked. Though he was clearly affected by Fleur's veela charm, Ginny couldn't help but notice he was not acting nearly as ridiculous as Ron had been prior to Hermione's arrival. Even now, Ron looked more dazed than he did, and that was without being kissed on the cheeks and flirted with. Ginny felt a little relief.

"No, no, silly boy," said Fleur with her usual tinkling laugh that Ginny also hated. "I mean next summer, when we – but do you not know?"

She shot a reproachful look at Mum.

"We haven't got around to telling him yet," Mum told her.

Fleur turned back to Harry, swinging her silvery sheet of hair so that it whipped Mum across the face.

"Bill and I are going to be married!"

"Oh," said Harry, who appeared to notice the cold aura around the room and seemed a bit puzzled by it. "Wow. Er – congratulations!"

Fleur swooped down upon him and kissed him again, then launched into a quick explanation as to why she was staying at the Burrow.

"Well — enjoy your breakfast, 'Arry!"

She turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Mum made a noise that sounded like "tchah!"

"Mum hates her," Ginny told Harry, fully aware that it was nothing compared to what she thought of her.

"I do not hate her!" she hissed. "I just think they've hurried into this engagement, that's all!"

"They've known each other a year," said Ron, who still looked groggy and was staring at the closed door.

"Well, that's not very long! I know why it's happened, of course. It's all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left right and center —"

"Including you and Dad."

"Yes, well, your father and I were made for each other, what was the point in waiting?" said Mum. "Whereas Bill and Fleur… well… what have they really got in common? He's a hard-working, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she's —"

"A cow," said Ginny, before she could stop herself. "But Bill's not that down-to-earth. He's a curse-breaker, isn't he, he likes a bit of adventure, a bit of glamour… I expect that's why he's gone for Phlegm."

"Stop calling her that, Ginny," said Mum, though Ginny was very happy to see Harry laughing at the pun. "Well, I'd better get on… eat your eggs while they're warm, Harry."

She left, closing the door behind her. Ron still seemed slightly punch-drunk; he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying to rid its ears of water.

"Don't you get used to her if she's staying in the same house?" Harry asked.

"Well, you do," said Ron, "but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then…"

"It's pathetic," said Hermione furiously, striding away from Ron as far as she could go and turning to face him with her arms folded once she had reached the wall. Ginny felt bad for her; she was clearly hurt. She was not taking Harry's toned-down reaction to Fleur in comparison to Ron's very well. Though Ginny felt a bit more hopeful about the summer now, she still felt on edge. Fleur had not even seemed to acknowledge Ron's presence in the room.

"You don't really want her around forever?" Ginny asked Ron incredulously. When he merely shrugged, she said, "Well, Mum's going to put a stop to it if she can, I bet you anything."

"How's she going to manage that?" asked Harry.

"She keeps trying to get Tonks round for dinner. I think she's hoping Bill will fall for Tonks instead. I hope he does, I'd much rather have her in the family."

"Yeah, that'll work," said Ron sarcastically. "Listen, no bloke in his right mind's going to fancy Tonks when Fleur's around. I mean, Tonks is okay-looking when she isn't doing stupid things to her hair and her nose, but —"

"She's a damn sight nicer than Phlegm," said Ginny angrily. She thought that was pretty low on Ron's part. She had never thought of Tonks as unattractive, and if he was right that no bloke would fancy her when Fleur's around, why would it be any different in her case? She was suddenly feeling insecure, something she had rarely felt before.

"And she's more intelligent, she's an Auror!" said Hermione from the corner. Ginny had a feeling she was feeling the same way.

"Fleur's not stupid, she was good enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament," said Harry.

"Not you as well!" said Hermione bitterly.

"I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ' 'Arry', do you?"

The words were out of Ginny's mouth before she could stop them, and she wished at once that she had just kept quiet. What a moronic thing to have uttered. She had allowed Ron's shallowness and her own jealousy to get to her.

"No," said Harry, who looked taken aback slightly, "I was just saying, Phlegm — I mean, Fleur —"

"I'd much rather have Tonks in the family," said Ginny, trying to play her last remark off as nothing and hoping everyone, especially Harry, would quickly forget about it. "At least she's a laugh."

"She hasn't been much of a laugh lately," said Ron. "Every time I've seen her she's looked more like Moaning Myrtle."

"That's not fair," snapped Hermione, who was clearly still upset at Ron for drooling over Fleur. "She still hasn't got over what happened… you know… I mean, he was her cousin!"

Ginny glanced at Harry, who immediately began shoveling down his breakfast. He clearly wanted no part of this discussion anymore.

"Tonks and Sirius barely knew each other!" said Ron. "Sirius was in Azkaban half her life and before that their families never met —"

"That's not the point," said Hermione. "She thinks it was her fault he died!"

To Ginny's surprise, Harry responded.

"How does she work that one out?"

"Well," said Hermione, "she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn't she? I think she feels that if only she had finished her off, Bellatrix couldn't have killed Sirius."

"That's stupid," said Ron.

"It's survivor's guilt," said Hermione. "I know Lupin's tried to talk her round, but she's still really down. She's actually having trouble with her Metamorphosing!"

"With her — ?"

"She can't change her appearance like she used to," explained Hermione. "I think her powers must have been affected by shock, or something."

"I didn't know that could happen," said Harry.

"Nor did I," said Hermione, "but I suppose if you're really depressed…"

"Ginny, come downstairs and help me with lunch," came a voice from the doorway. Mum was back, poking her head in.

"I'm talking to this lot!"

"Now!" said Mum, and she withdrew.

"She only wants me there so she doesn't have to be alone with Phlegm!"

Ginny mocked Fleur by swinging her hair around and strutting out of the room with her arms held aloft like a ballerina.

"You lot had better come down quickly too," she said grumpily as she left.

Fleur was at the kitchen table examining her reflection in a spoon when Ginny entered. Ginny's toast that she had forgotten about was on the table. She quickly ate it and poured herself some orange juice.

"Ginny, will you please chop the carrots and potatoes?" said Mum when Ginny had finished her drink. "I'm going to be making a beef stew."

Ginny did as she was told, however, it wasn't long before several things happened that drove lunch from their minds. Hermione arrived downstairs sporting a black eye from one of Fred and George's prank telescopes, and she was hysterical because apparently Harry had told her that their O.W.L. results would be arriving that day.

Sure enough, after almost fifteen minutes of Mum trying and failing to get rid of the black eye, Hermione gave a shriek as she pointed out through the kitchen window at three owls approaching. After some anxious muttering and Hermione repeatedly whispering "Oh, no!", Mum let the three owls in and she, Harry, and Ron ripped open the attached letters and examined their grades. Ginny could see the relief forming on Harry and Ron's faces and they happily discussed their results, which ended up being quite good, including an "O" for Harry in Defense Against the Dark Arts. That was not a surprise since he had taught the D.A. the previous year.

"Well done!" said Mum proudly, ruffling Ron's hair. "Seven O.W.L.s, that's more than Fred and George got together!"

"Hermione?" said Ginny tentatively, for Hermione still had her face buried in her results and hadn't said anything. "How did you do?"

"I — not bad," said Hermione in a small voice.

"Oh, come off it," said Ron, striding over to her and whipping her results out of her hand. "Yep — nine 'Outstandings' and one 'Exceeds Expectations' in Defense Against the Dark Arts." He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You're actually disappointed, aren't you?"

Hermione shook her head, but Harry laughed.

"Well, we're N.E.W.T. students now!" grinned Ron. "Mum, are there any more sausages?"

Ron loaded his plate up with more food as Harry continued to stare at his O.W.L. results. He finally folded up the paper and put it in his pocket, looking a tad troubled about something.

"Something wrong, Harry?" said Ginny.

"It's nothing," he said, shaking his head. "It's just that I just needed an 'O' in Potions to get into the N.E.W.T. class."

"Surely you don't want more Snape?" said Ginny disbelievingly.

"Well, no, but you need it to be an Auror. McGonagall told me."

"Surely they'd make an exception for you?" said Ron. "The Ministry owes you after last year."

"I doubt it," said Harry resignedly. "Oh well, it was always a pipe dream anyway."

"Maybe you could become the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher after you graduate," said Ginny.

"Are you kidding? Who'd want that job? It's cursed."

"As last year showed, there are ways around that," said Ginny shrewdly. "They could hire someone for the official post and then have them do nothing while you teach everyone on the side."

Harry considered it for a moment. He gave a kind of shrug to indicate that he thought the idea was valid, but said, "Not sure teaching's really my thing."

"Teaching is definitely your thing," said Ginny promptly, "because if it wasn't, we all probably would've been killed by Death Eaters at the Ministry."

A second later, Ginny registered just how quiet the kitchen had become, and everyone was staring at her, including Mum.

"Are you telling me," she said, "that you all still went through with that defense club idea even after I told you not to?"

"Well, that old hag never taught us anything," said Ron, "and we for sure would have failed our practical O.W.L. if we didn't."

Mum looked very conflicted for a moment, then went back to fixing lunch, muttering something about how it was a miracle they hadn't been expelled yet.

"Guess we won't need the D.A. this year, though, will we?" said Hermione. "Since Umbridge is gone now?"

"No, reckon not," said Harry. "That's fine with me, though. I've got enough to worry about."

"Bill told me all about Umbreedge," said Fleur with a scowl. "I can only be grateful Beauxbatons never 'ad anyone like zat teaching us."

"She was the worst," said Ron.

"We 'ad amazing professors at Beauxbatons," continued Fleur, "and as I was saying before, we 'old our exams after six years of study, and in seventh year we focus on practical application and more advanced magic."

"Interesting," said Ron through a mouthful of sausage, staring at Fleur with his usual glazed look. Harry snorted.

"What?" said Ginny.

"Oh, I just remembered that letter you sent me," said Harry.

"Letter?" said Hermione quickly. She had been glaring at Ron for ogling Fleur but was now looking at Harry with interest.

"Yeah," said Harry. "She sent me a letter a few days ago. I think it's in my trunk somewhere."

"Can I see it?" she said.

"Erm — sure," said Harry, who thought this was a strange request. Ginny thought so too and shot Hermione a look. She blushed, evidently realizing she may have made a mistake or perhaps embarrassed herself. Harry left the kitchen, and Ginny suddenly remembered what she had put in that letter about Ron fancying Hermione and realized she needed to stop him from showing it to her. She got up and followed Harry up the stairs.

"Harry," she said quietly as she caught up with him on the first-floor landing. "Don't show Hermione that letter!"

"Why not? Oh — right," he said, laughing as realization dawned on him. "I remember now."

"Yeah," said Ginny. "Probably wouldn't be good."

"Not sure why she wanted to see it. She's not usually so nosy like that."

"She gets weird sometimes when she's anxious," said Ginny. "Just tell her you couldn't find it. What made you think of it?"

"Ron staring at Fleur. I just remembered how you said Ron 'didn't mind her'. That seems like an interesting way of putting it now."

Ginny laughed. She was thrilled that he remembered what she had written so well. She thought he would have just tossed it aside after reading and then forgotten about it, or at least that was her fear, and she had become accustomed to believing her fears would come true.

They returned to the kitchen, and Harry told Hermione that he was mistaken about it being in his trunk. She just waved her hand and gave an airy, "Don't worry about it."

"Want to play some Quidditch?" said Ron.

"Sure," said Harry and Ginny.

"What about you, Hermione?" said Ron.

"Ron, you know I'm rubbish at it," she snapped.

"Come on, we can't play with just three people!"

"I 'ave never played Queedeetch," said Fleur thoughtfully. "I would probably just fall off my broom! I remember watching 'Arry during the first task, zough, he was abs—"

"Okay, I'll play," said Hermione quickly, getting to her feet, and they all hurried out of the kitchen and into the yard.

"I can't believe you just blurted out that stuff about the D.A. in front of Mum!" said Ron, rounding on Ginny.

"I forgot," said Ginny truthfully. "And she didn't punish us, so it's not like it matters."

"You always get away with everything," he said bitterly. "I guarantee if I'd been the one to admit it, I'd be getting flayed as we speak. Just don't tell her the D.A. was the reason Dumbledore had to leave the school, or we will get punished for sure…"

They traipsed over to the broom shed.

"So, me and Harry against you and Hermione," said Ginny as they grabbed their brooms, Harry's Firebolt seemingly sparkling in the sunlight that was now streaming in through the open door.

"Come on, you'll kill us," said Ron.

"Excuse me, but you've played in more games than I have," said Ginny.

"Only one more," Ron countered. "And you're already better than me. Plus Harry has a Firebolt."

"How about me and Hermione against you and Ginny, then?" suggested Harry. "That should make us pretty evenly matched."

Ron muttered his approval, and Ginny felt slightly disappointed.

A few minutes later they were in the air, with Hermione and Ron tending their respective goalposts and Harry and Ginny playing as Chasers. Ginny marveled at just how fast Harry's Firebolt was. She had never gotten close enough to fully appreciate it before now.

The games turned out to essentially be two on one, as Hermione usually shrieked when the Quaffle was thrown in her vicinity. She did manage to miraculously make one save eventually.

"I did it!" she squealed.

"Good one," said Ginny, who had not thrown her best shot by any means. Hermione threw the Quaffle back to Harry but the ball ended up way short, and Ginny, who was much closer, swooped in and grabbed it instead. Harry held out his hands, expecting her to throw it to him.

"Finders keepers!" Ginny teased. She lined up for another shot and got it past Hermione easily this time.

"That one doesn't count!" Harry shouted as Ginny went to retrieve the Quaffle.

"Of course it counts," said Ginny, smiling serenely. "It went through the hoop, didn't it?"

"Fine, whatever," sighed Harry, laughing.

"We need a no-Firebolt handicap," Ginny reasoned.

"I need a my-partner-is-riding-a-broomstick-for-the-first-time handicap," Harry retorted, though he was still smiling.

Harry was naturally competitive when it came to Quidditch, and he made sure to take the Quaffle from Hermione personally from that point onward.

At lunch, Fleur decided to tell them about Bill's adventures in Egypt a few years prior.

"Much of 'is work ees very secret, so 'e can't tell me an 'ole lot, but 'e talks a lot about zose pyramids. Apparently zey are a bit of a wonder for ze Muggles too."

As they had all taken a vacation to Egypt during the summer after Ginny's first year, none of what she told them was news, not that that mattered to Ron, who was hanging on Fleur's every word.

"Excuse me, I 'ave to go to ze bathroom," said Fleur after she had finished her story. Ron did the same weird headshake that he did after Fleur had visited Harry in his room that morning (Ginny felt a fresh wave of irritation at the reminder of it), and Hermione was determinedly looking down at her stew, moving it around with her utensils but not eating.

"Honestly, Ron, grow up," said Ginny harshly. "You're seriously acting pathetic."

It was not so much his behavior that was driving her crazy but rather how apparently oblivious he was to Hermione being hurt by it. Hermione looked up and gave her a look of gratitude. Ginny hoped Ron would get the subtle hint but knew him far too well to believe that he would understand anything less than pure bluntness. It was infuriating.

"You're not a bloke, you don't get it," Ron shot back. "Veela have magic that only affect —"

"I don't see Harry acting like a swooning idiot around her all the time, and that's with her — giving him way more attention than you," said Ginny, restraining herself.

Harry went a little pink but said nothing. Ron had no retort and went back to his food. When Fleur returned to the table, Ron made a very deliberate effort not to look at her for the remainder of lunch. Hermione thanked her properly a couple hours later as they sat down near the fireplace while Ron and Harry started a game of wizard chess on the other side of the sitting room.

"He's got to grow up eventually, doesn't he?" whispered Ginny, casting a look over at the two boys to make sure they were out of earshot.

"I'm really starting to wonder," said Hermione. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it."

"He will, eventually. Once we're back at Hogwarts, away from Phlegm, hopefully then he'll get a grip."

Hermione grimaced, looking unconvinced.

"And speaking of Phlegm," said Ginny, "do you think Bill would approve of her behavior around Harry?"

"Erm… I wouldn't think so… but I don't really know Bill, I really have no idea where he would draw that line, so…"

"I have half a mind to tell him next chance I get."

"You can do that, but… are you sure you're, er… the best person to…?" said Hermione tentatively.

Ginny had a sneaky suspicion she was going to say something like that.

"I'm sorry," she hissed. "I didn't realize Dean and I had gotten engaged, or that dating other boys was my idea and not yours. How stupid of me."

"That's not what I meant," said Hermione placidly. "I just meant your judgement might be a bit clouded in the matter."

"Are you telling me you don't see it?" said Ginny incredulously. "You may not feel the same way as I do about Harry, but that doesn't matter. All you need is a pair of eyes in this case."

"I agree it looks suspicious," Hermione agreed. "But again, I don't know the ins and outs of Bill and Fleur's relationship, and they certainly seem — happy — at the dinner table, so at the end of the day, it's not really any of my business. But if you feel that you should tell him, don't let me stop you."

They were startled by Ron suddenly yelling "HA!" and looked over at him, fearing for a split second that he had been eavesdropping.

"Fell for it again!" he said excitedly, smiling triumphantly at Harry.

"Damn it!" Harry hissed, looking contemptuously at the chess board. The two girls looked back at each other and let out a deep breath.

"If they only knew the stuff we talk about," whispered Hermione with a grin.