Ginny Weasley stared blankly at the menu. She ought to have at least prepared for the possibility that there would be Slytherins here - Pansy Parkinson had been handing out raffle tickets after all. However, she hadn't, and she was currently listening with all her might to the conversation, and skipping the menu entirely. Harry was doing the same thing, of course, if in a far more "contained explosion" manner.

With an excited clap, Pansy Parkinson purred, "You're going to settle an argument for us, Granger." She paused, for a moment, and then asked a little abashedly, "May I call you Hermione?"

"Yes, of course." Hermione responded, with enough of a smile in her voice to make it seem genuine. Ginny remembered that Hermione wasn't the type to make friends easily, and thus was more likely to accept genuine friendly advances, even from Slytherins (who of course always had something up their sleeve).

"Is Harry Potter gay?" Pansy asked, suppressed mirth nearly quivering in her voice.

Before Hermione could say a word, Draco Malfoy spoke up with a drawl, "I've always said that he's gay. Haven't you-" Ginny's eyes were watching Harry, who was getting steadily more upset.

"We know what you think, Draco. You've told us repeatedly." Pansy cut him off impatiently. "So, Granger? erm, Hermione?" Pansy demanded.

"I... don't think so." Hermione stammered.

Briskly, Blaise cut in, before either Pansy or Draco could say a thing, "There you have it, Harry Potter's best friend has last say. Argument settled."

"I've never seen him touch the Weaselette in anything other than a friendly manner." Draco drawled.

Pansy said with a dismissive handwave that went clear out of the booth*, "Maybe he's shy?"

Daphne let out a giggle, "The Chosen One? Shy? I'm not sure being a Gryffindor and being shy precisely fit." Draco let out a chuckle of concurrence.

Pansy said, "You've seen them in private, Hermione. Has Harry ever acted, you know, romantic with Ginevra Weasley?"

Something clicked, inside Ginny's head, at that. Like a chinese puzzle box sliding together, suddenly everything fit. He knows. Ginny nearly dropped her fork.

"Um, now that you mention it... I don't - not often, not really. Maybe... not at all?" Hermione Granger said, and Ginny watched as Harry Potter closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly, carefully, letting the rage (that left red imprints from his knife and fork embedded in his hands) run out.

*Ginny is sitting facing the Slytherin booth. Harry's back is to Draco's. Hence she can occasionally see gestures.

[a/n: What? you thought this was going to be pleasant? Draco is scheming, folks. Leave a review!]