Playing For Keeps

If Ron didn't know better, he'd blame his current mood on a dementor stalking him. The empty, hopeless feeling that the creatures left in their wake was the only comparison he had. Something had come around, almost overnight, and sucked all his hatred and anger out of him. Behind the absence of feeling, something worse quaked behind a wall built up from denials and deflections. Brick by brick, he created the wall with great care, using his jealousy as mortar to keep it strong and stable. It became a fortress of hostility, strong enough to protect him against the onslaught of guilt that was contained behind it.

Guilt, insecurity, shame… self-loathing…

The wall was crumbling and through the gaps came those feelings. They played on his mind as he thought of Harry's hurt when he said such cruel things to him, thoughts that he somehow managed to twist into truths in his mind. They flashed through him when he thought of his dad's disappointment. Then at last, he was confronted with Lavender's hurt face when she pulled him aside in a nook on board the Hogwarts Express to talk alone.

"You care more about this fight between you and Harry than me," Lavender accused him.

He bungled his way through an attempt to say that he did care. As he did, he could see the final thing he had left slipping through his fingers. Lavender's hurt eyes, red-rimmed, her mouth downturned as he tried to convince her that they were going out because he fancied her and liked her. All the while, the feelings behind the wall were twisting, the shame shuddering against it, because every word was a lie. He hadn't kissed her in the Common Room because he fancied her. He didn't agree to be her boyfriend or ask her out on a date because he wanted to start a relationship with her. It was all so he could have something to be proud of, an achievement that he managed on his own without either Harry's or Hermione's help. Lavender chose him. He had something.

"I'm not stupid, Ron. I know that you were using me to make Hermione jealous, but I didn't mind at first. I thought you'd come around once you realised that you're both not meant for each other at all."

He'd been so stunned at her words, at her perceptiveness, that he just stood and stared. Any attempt to deny would be such a bare-faced lie, he'd just make the situation even worse. She'd caught him out, pulled the ugly truth right out of him and threw it in his face where he could no longer pretend otherwise. He hadn't been prepared. His anger and hate were useless when he'd stood gaping at her. He had no backup and no defence.

The hollowness inside him got worse as he stood before Lavender, stripped bare. She could see him for what he was. The least loved son, the side-kick, the second-rate wizard who only got anywhere because of hand-outs. He was worthless, insignificant and, from what he saw of Harry's and Hermione's relationship, unwanted.

Before he could stop the wailing feelings inside him, his eyes started to burn. Breathing hurt, no… breathing was impossible. He had no idea what to do. Completely over his head, alone, and he saw no way forwards. Lavender was going to turn on him, just like his family, just like his friends, and he'd be left the pathetic loner he accused Harry of being.

And it was all his fault. The truth was stark then, inescapable. He could see it reflected back at him in Lavender's eyes.

"I don't know what I want." He managed to say in a strained voice. He tried to gasp in a breath, but his chest refused to work properly. Again, the memory of his dad's furious face burned in his mind.

"I'm disappointed in you."

The words hurt more than anything Ron had experienced in his life. Standing before Lavender, exposed, he felt that he truly deserved that disappointment. Every decision he had made had been for all the wrong reasons and he'd been so blinded with his hurt and anger.

"Then please think about it because if you do want to date me and if there is more to this than you getting back at Harry Potter, then I want this to work too." Lavender said softly, surprising him. Rather than finding hostility and rejection, he saw understanding and sympathy. She didn't say anything else and instead, she wrapped her arms around him and just hugged him.

Just like that, he could breathe again. A new feeling started to bloom into being where all his hate used to be. A small spark of something he'd forgotten which the imaginary dementor must have stolen from him too. Happiness. He felt like something had been resolved and that feeling was… good. Once he and Lavender rejoined Seamus, Parvati, Padma and some of her Ravenclaw friends, he found himself swept up in his thoughts for most of the journey. If resolution could help him feel better and fill the empty void inside him, perhaps it was time he resolved the yawning, gaping hole inside him.

His next wake-up call arrived at the front doors of Hogwarts castle as they all climbed out of their carriage. His mood had lifted a little under the shadow of the castle, some hope that life would return to some normalcy. Lavender's presence had been a comfort and a welcome one as she wrapped his arm around her waist, moving him about like her life-size marionette. There was a slight commotion up ahead of them at the crowd entering the entrance hall. Someone was barrelling into them, moving with quite some haste.

Ron's stomach dropped as he recognised the shock of jet black hair as Harry barged through the throng. He passed Ron, not sparing him a single look. His full attention was transfixed on something ahead. It was as if Harry had spotted the snitch. Ron turned to see what the cause was.

"Hermione!"

"Harry!"

If he and Lavender ever got accused of being embarrassing to be around when kissing and canoodling, they were nothing compared to the most over-the-top reunion he'd ever seen. Harry had lifted Hermione up, grinning wildly, while he spun her on the spot in his arms. Ron had never seen Harry make such a public display of affection. He'd completely thrown all self-awareness out the window.

And Harry had just completely blanked him.

Giggles and a mixture of people feigning vomiting sounds picked up in the crowd around them. Harry and Hermione were completely oblivious, eyes just for each other. As Lavender guided Ron away, barely functioning, his shock pulsed through him.

He went up to the dormitory early that night before any of the others. Lavender's understanding looks were warm and soothing while he ignored Seamus's surly scowls. He ignored them like how he ignored when Harry and Hermione appeared through the portrait hole just before curfew. Neither of them appeared to be aware that it was very obvious what they had been up to or if they were, they didn't care. They didn't leave much to the imagination when Hermione sat against Harry like he was a huge pillow in her chair, reclining on him without much care while he played with one of her curls absently.

Maybe he hadn't ignored them as much as he thought.

Alone in the dormitory, he got himself ready for bed feeling much like a solid ghost. He barely registered himself drifting around, brushing his teeth and getting undressed into his pyjamas. He blinked in a daze as he found himself sitting on his bed, alone, looking blankly across at Harry's bed.

The door to the dormitory suddenly opened. Ron jumped violently, alarmed in case it was Harry. He very much wasn't ready to deal with being in the same space as him, even though it was inevitable. It wasn't Harry. Instead a frowning Seamus entered, folding his arms as he looked Ron up and down.

"What happened? Did you get into trouble over your beef with Potter?" Seamus demanded at once, his voice low and hushed as he approached, glancing around to make sure that they were alone. Ron sighed heavily, not wanting to have the conversation. He just wanted to sleep and not think. He brought his hands up to his face, rubbing at his eyes.

"I had a row with my dad about it over Christmas." Ron admitted as Seamus then stopped in front of him. "And I guess some time away from here, away from it being constantly in my face, I kinda… I dunno… don't feel the same about it anymore. I just rather we weren't fighting. It… it just seems like it's not as big a deal. Not what with all that's going on out there." Ron pointed over to the window, indicating the wider world outside of their bubble of teenage intrigue.

Seamus stared at him, making him feel uncomfortable, but then he headed over to his own bed.

"Guess maybe we've been getting a bit carried away." He then said, giving a twitch of a shrug. Ron hadn't expected Seamus to agree with him, not considering he'd been so eager to get involved and side with him in the first place. Ron's shoulders sagged, slumping forwards. Seamus then eyed him, stepping around to lean against the far post of his bed, crossing his arms again.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Harry'll never forgive me for what I said. I know because… he didn't fight back. I knew how to hurt him and I went for it…" Ron brought a hand over his face. "I knew I was going too far but I just stopped caring and then I said that stuff and it was too late."

Seamus dropped his head, staring down at the floor, his face hidden. The wall suppressing Ron's guilt was on the point of collapse.

"I'm going to talk to Dean… and try to talk to Harry. I managed to brave facing him last year after the shit I said." Seamus shook his head. "This whole growing up business is a mess."

He makes it sound so easy, Ron thought morosely. While Seamus had said some nasty things to Harry, nothing came close to what he said. He wasn't even sure what fuelled the hate but it had just consumed him beyond reason. Yet he knew the moment Harry stared at him with hurt disbelief that he shattered something that used to be unbreakable between them. He went to the lengths that Malfoy went to get a rise out of Harry. He went far too personal. The worst thing was that he made himself believe what he was saying. At that moment, he really believed that Harry was manipulating them all and using his circumstances to get his way. Yet he didn't realise exactly what he was saying to Harry not until he was alone and his temper cooled.

He'd been likening Harry to You-know-who.

When that shatter happened in Harry's eyes, when he backed off, truly hurt, Ron had felt triumph at the time. In hindsight, he was horrified.

"Yeah… it is." Ron said numbly. The absolute emotional mess that came with growing up had caused the whole situation to detonate in the first place. He told a weirdly subdued Seamus that he was going to go to bed, shuffling back so he could draw his hangings around. It never crossed his mind that Seamus may have been wrestling with his conscience just as much as he had been.

He clearly missed being friends with Dean as much as Ron missed being friends with Harry and Hermione.

All attempts to sleep ended up with him laying awake, listening for any snippets between Harry, Dean and Neville. Time dragged by and from the eerie silence from Seamus, he knew he was doing the same. Neville quietly entered, not speaking to either of them as he got himself ready for bed. Harry and Dean then showed up, just as quiet, speaking in whispers and hushed tones. Ron then caught his name as Harry's voice reached him from the bathroom.

"...to Ron," Harry's voice had raised from a hushed whisper to audible, "he can either show up to practice or not. That's on him."

"And if he doesn't show?" Dean asked, his whisper just loud enough to be audible. Ron heard Harry's sigh and a clatter, indicating that they were talking at the sinks.

"Match isn't until March so… I'll have time to…" Harry's voice became inaudible as he lowered his volume again. Ron turned his attention from the silent conversations, miserable at what he'd heard. He thoroughly wished Harry would boot him off the Quidditch team. Any and all interest in playing for Gryffindor had been scooped out of him along with everything else. Why try when he was only on the team because of Harry? It had long since stopped being enjoyable when the thought of getting on the pitch made him physically sick with nerves. How could he possibly regain any confidence when whatever confidence he had came about because he'd been duped into thinking he'd been spiked with felix felicis? He owed even that to Harry but whatever good will had gone into his actions had quickly been squashed by Hermione's apparent lack of belief in him.

Lavender's words returned to him then as he lay silent, feigning sleep.

You're both not meant for each other at all.

Was it that simple? Had things gone so wrong between him and Hermione because they weren't good for each other? He then thought about what else Lavender had said about him needing to think about what he wanted. What did he want? Did he want Hermione to come to him and admit that she was overreacting? Did he want her to apologise for attacking him with those bloody birds? Did he want Harry to admit that he should have had his back as his mate instead of calling him out?

If they did those things, what would it change? It wouldn't get him any closer to convincing Hermione to see him for once and confirm that she was interested in him - more so than a friend. Of course it wouldn't. She was in a relationship with Harry.

Where did that leave him? He couldn't change the things he'd done and said. If he ended things with Lavender, Hermione wasn't going to drop Harry and come running. Everyone else with eyes could tell that Harry wasn't short and scrawny anymore. Now that he'd actually grown into his glasses, he was annoyingly good-looking on top of everyone fawning over him with all the Chosen One business. He'd lost his awkwardness, having been forced to grow up and act mature. He'd picked up confidence from teaching the DA, skills that he used as the Quidditch Captain. Hermione had said it herself. Harry was fanciable, her words.

Why would Hermione leave Harry if Ron became single? If she was with Harry then she wanted to be with him. She'd made her choice. All because Ron had made his. Things had changed and no matter what Ron said or did, nothing was going to reverse the choices he made. He had to live with them.

But he could apologise for them.

While he had sulked in his room for the majority of the Christmas break, his parents hadn't been completely cold with him. Once his dad had calmed down, he'd been apologetic for his harsh words. His mum had taken over then, their usual roles reversed as normally it would be his dad being the level-headed one after one of his mum's tellings-off. Her assurances that all can be forgiven and forgotten had felt laughable after he reeled in the wake of his dad's furious tirade.

"No one is perfect, Ronnie." His mum soothed at the foot of his bed while he sat in the far corner of his room, eyes puffy and red. "We all do and say silly things in the heat of the moment. Yes, you were wrong to say what you did, but if you apologise and show that you are sorry, you can make amends. Didn't Harry forgive you after your argument over the Goblet of Fire?"

"That was different," Ron mumbled out from behind his knees, "everyone thought Harry had put his name in."

His mum sighed, giving him a very pointed look. Ron shifted away from it, turning his face away.

"I am only saying that Harry is remarkably reasonable. Maybe it will take time for things to heal between you all, but if you owe your part and leave it with them, time will do the rest. You can't take back those words you said, but you can learn to be better… and you're going to have to learn because we can't do this for you. Part of growing up is knowing that when we make mistakes, we have to learn how to live with them."

Scrunching his face up against his pillow, Ron resigned himself to what had to be done. He had to patch things up or at least try to get things back to a civil state. Even if they wouldn't forgive him, he could at least get some closure and some relief from the tormenting guilt that he simply couldn't hold back anymore.

On the other side of his hangings, he could hear Harry getting into bed, sighing heavily to himself. Ron knew very well that he was the cause of that sigh. It hadn't been a happy sound.

I'll do it tomorrow, Ron thought to himself, staring determinedly into the darkness. I'll speak to him… and Hermione. Somehow.

He winced. How was he going to convince Harry to even want to talk to him? Then he remembered the keeper gloves that were hidden in his trunk. With them in mind, a plan started to form in his head.

Seamus's and Ron's behaviour that threw Harry through a loop. Neither had sneered or made some passing remark while they were all getting ready for the first morning of term. In fact, Harry nearly dropped his toothbrush in surprise when Seamus picked the sink next to him and caught his eye a couple of times before looking away. He appeared on the cusp of speaking before changing his mind. Harry then turned abruptly away, eager to get out of the awkward situation. In doing so, he walked into Ron having not seen him come in. Rather than use the opportunity to snap at him or make some comment about him being blind, Ron just moved out of Harry's way, not meeting his eye.

Once dressed, Harry grabbed his bag and went to leave the room quickly before he ended up in a conversation he didn't want to have without Hermione present. That was then he saw that something had been left on his bed that he hadn't put there himself. He froze mid-step, knowing exactly what was on his bed, not needing to go and inspect for himself. He exhaled sharply out of his nostrils, gaze shifting over to the bathroom where Ron had been rather noticeably taking his time while Harry was in the dormitory. Harry then turned and left the dormitory without a word.

Weaving through a gathered pocket of second years who were yawning and lingering at the foot of the stairs, Harry emerged into the Common Room. He sighed in relief when he at once spotted Hermione waiting for him, their eyes meeting across the room. He hoisted the strap of his bag higher up his shoulder. Hermione was already looking him up and down, assessing him intently for any signs of being in a scuffle or fight. Her attention was on his hair when he reached her, her smile soft as she brought her fingers up to it, brushing through the back.

Not expecting contact so soon that morning, his body reacted of its own accord, immediately excited. Blood rushed in two directions, to his face and down between his legs. She fussed with his hair, trying to flatten it.

"Your hair really is impossible." She said, bemused, giving up. Hermione's curls were as wild as ever, but framed her face in their golden brown glory, not appearing like a riot on her head like Harry's hair did. He just shrugged in response.

"If it means that you get to play with it more often, I'm not complaining." Harry said, his mouth quirking up in the corners.

"There's a sign on the noticeboard for Apparation lessons," she told him before he could deliver his news. "It comes with a fee but it's definitely worth it, don't you think?"

Harry distractedly looked over to where the noticeboard was and spotted Parvati and Lavender in front of it, chatting animatedly.

"Ah, right. Yeah - definitely worth learning." He said distractedly as he then took her arm. "Anyway, something happened with Ron."

He guided her over to the portrait hole so he could talk to her before Ron showed up. Hermione didn't protest, her eyes just widening a little in response and she gave a nod, taking his arm. When suitably on the way towards the grand staircase, Harry turned to look over his shoulder, still trying to wrap his head around what Ron was trying to communicate.

"Ron left the keeper gloves I got for him for Christmas on my bed." Harry decided to get right to it. Hermione gave him a questioning look, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she let out a harsh breath.

"Did he say anything?"

"No. His hangings were already drawn when we got in the dorm last night and this morning…" Harry shrugged. "He didn't say anything. Both him and Seamus didn't say a word. It was like they'd had a fight or something."

"What did you do when you found the gloves?"

"Nothing - I was on my way down to see you when I spotted them. He must have put them there while I was in the bathroom." Harry rubbed at the back of his neck, wondering if he'd been cowardly himself to just leave and not confront Ron about it. "I didn't really want to deal with it just yet."

Hermione nudged him lightly in the ribs.

"It's like how you said before about how Ron thinks. He's made his move so now he expects you to make yours. He's going to keep avoiding actually talking to you until you have to force the conversation because he's not brave enough to do it himself. Either that or you'll be waiting until next term for him to talk."

Harry sighed. "I'm not waiting that long, but I'm not having this talk up in the dormitory before breakfast on a Monday either."

"And not without me," Hermione added with a very pointed glint in her eye. Harry's heart leapt at her protectiveness.

Unsurprisingly as they entered the Great Hall arm-in-arm, many heads turned to watch them find seats at the Gryffindor table. For the very first time, Harry found himself enjoying the attention as the murmurs and whispers followed behind them.

Let them see, he thought, let them see that we're together and happy.

As he reached the table, about to sit down, a group of first years at the far end started to nudge a girl in pig-tails. She scrambled up to her feet, her face bright red. Harry only noticed her when she bustled up to him just as he was about to sit down.

"H-Harry Potter?"

"Er, yes?" Harry turned, surprised to be addressed, finding the first year at his elbow.

"I was asked to give you this when you came down." She spoke very quickly and very nervously. She held out a small scroll of parchment in a shaking hand. Harry was alarmed that he made someone so nervous. He glanced behind her, seeing her friends and classmates watching with wide-eyes. "By Professor D-Dumbledore." She added.

Baffled as to why Dumbledore decided to use a terrified first year as a messenger instead of Hedwig or any other owl, Harry took the scroll.

"Oh, thank you." He said and the moment the scroll exchanged hands, she practically fled. Harry eyed the top table, seeing that Dumbledore was absent. Sighing, he unravelled the scroll, sitting down next to Hermione. He smoothed it out between them so she could read it with him.

Hermione finished it first, looking up at him sharply.

"Tonight at eight," she murmured, "such short notice again."

Harry quickly folded the note and tucked it in his pocket. "It's a bit strange that he didn't arrange for any more meetings with me while I was here over the holidays. Though now that I think about it, he wasn't around that much. He's a busy man but busy doing what." Harry said quietly. "You know, now that I think about it, the only times I have met with him have been on the rare days when he's even in the castle. He's barely been here at all."

Worried at his point, Hermione looked up at the top table herself. Harry watched her eyes dart back and forth as she considered his observations. Her lips parted as she realised he was right.

"It's no wonder that so many families want to pull their children from the school. Dumbledore being absent so often doesn't fill us with much confidence."

"The school is still the safest place to be even if he's not here but you're right. It would make parents more reassured if he was actually here. Hell, it would make me more reassured." Harry said, shaking his head as scanned the table. "The staff clearly aren't that convinced of the school's safety if they had to take turns chaperoning me around during the holidays. It was as if they expected there to be Death Eaters hiding behind the suits of armour."

Hermione gave him an amused look. "Harry, I have a feeling that particular measure was so they had the peace of mind knowing where you are at all times. You are very easy to lose track of."

He rolled his eyes, knowing that she had a point. Though he did think the constant supervision had been wholly unnecessary. He had felt like a prisoner.

"But I do wonder if that may be part of the reason why Remus wishes to move to Hogsmeade." Hermione lowered her voice down to almost a whisper as she leaned her heard towards his conspiratorially. He met her gaze, surprised by the way her thoughts were going. "He's worried about your safety."

Very suddenly, everything that had preoccupied his thoughts on the way down to breakfast felt extremely insignificant. His anxieties about confronting Ron were laughable in comparison to the very real danger he was in. What did a spat between friends even matter against actual life and death? He just received a time for a private lesson with Albus Dumbledore so he could learn more about the man who had orphaned him, tried to murder him several times and was very much determined to kill him.

A laugh burst out of him, surprising him.

"I can't believe I started the day thinking that my biggest problem was what to do about some keeper gloves," he said disbelievingly.

As more students started to fill the tables, the owls began to swoop in through the windows. Rolled up newspapers dropped one-by-one at the spots of those with subscriptions to The Daily Prophet. Harry managed to spot his in-coming in the corner of his eye, snatching it out of the air. He heard a few appreciative 'oohs' at his demonstration of his seeker skills, not having realised that he was showing off until after the fact. He passed the paper to Hermione wordlessly. She hadn't spoken since his last remark and he wasn't that surprised. What could be said to that? They both knew he had much bigger problems on his plate than Ron Weasley.

Harry started to put some butter and marmalade on his toast, looking up as Ron himself showed up. Their eyes met briefly and Ron looked away, turning his attention back to Lavender, saying something to her as they chose to sit not far down from where Harry and Hermione were. Neville then came to sit on Harry's other side, smiling his greeting. Ginny and Dean showed next, not saying much either. There was a general subdued air about them. Hermione laid the paper in front of her as Harry bit into his toast. He eyed the headline. More news about the dementors rampaging through the countryside, breeding in the mists and devouring any unwilling soul that enters their breeding grounds. He made a mental note to read the paper later. He was still due his apology from the editor about the full page spread that exposed his close relationship with Hermione to everyone, including his enemies. The thought of that article made him almost shatter his plate.

"This does put everything back into perspective," Hermione said softly as she turned from the paper, helping herself to cereal.

"Yeah… it does…" Harry agreed, sighing. "I suppose it's time to wake up."

The sad, crest-fallen look on Hermione's face sent a sharp stab of pain through Harry at once. His hand dropped down under the table, resting on her thigh out of view of everyone else. Intimate contact that he knew would communicate her vital importance to him no matter his priorities in his life. She was the burning beacon that kept him fighting for each second of each day. Her friendship, her loyalty and now… her companionship. Hermione didn't look at him, trying to conceal that his hand was anywhere inappropriate. If Professor McGonagall caught him touching her under the table, she'd give him an immediate detention as she promised she would. Hermione didn't tell him to remove his hand or even acknowledge that it was there. The flush that graced her neck told him enough.

As their eyes met, Hermione stilled, her pupils dilated. Harry's attention was drawn to her lips, his thoughts scattering apart at their presence, inviting him in. It took far too much self-control to keep him from kissing her, denying the throbbing that powered through his body at the sight of her. His body was a bloody traitor.

"To charms then?" She asked, her voice breathy. Harry nodded, unable to trust himself to speak. He extracted himself from the bench, painfully aware that he'd managed to become semi-hard just by touching her thigh.

Classes for the rest of the day passed by without an incident. Slughorn held them both back at the end of his class, giving Harry another apology and including Hermione within its rehearsed framing as well. He wrung his hands as he looked at them both, insisting that he never intended there to be any publicity after the party held in his office. Harry held back, all too aware that even though Slughorn appeared to have their best interests at heart, he was duplicitous by nature. His role as the Head of Slytherin couldn't be overlooked. His ulterior motive was always to serve his own interests as a result of his efforts. As he elevated his favourite students to positions of authority, he reaped the rewards from the sidelines. He very much expected the same to come from him and Hermione, though what Slughorn believed Harry could achieve for him, he had no idea. The only thing Harry was capable of managing was putting people in danger.

While both Ron and Seamus appeared to have agreed to not bother Harry or Hermione, the day passed by uneventfully. Even Defence with Snape had been incident free though when Harry handed his assignment in and he received a sour look in response, he had a feeling that he would be undermarked yet again even though he knew his essays for the subject were just as good as Hermione's. During the day, the topic of the apparation lessons came up. Harry begrudgingly decided that it would be a useful skill to learn, even if the experience he had with Dumbledore's side-along had been rather unpleasant. Being able to disapparate out of danger was too important an ability to not learn, however uncomfortable it felt.

By the time it was time for him to get ready to meet with Dumbledore in his office, Harry had nearly forgotten about the meeting altogether. Mostly because he and Hermione took the opportunity after dinner to slip away, finding a secluded spot with the map so they could spend some time alone together. There weren't many cognizant thoughts in his head while pushed in the corner of a supplies cupboard, his vision obscured with many curls and his tongue very occupied.

After what must have been their sixth making-out session while pressed against each other in the cramped cupboard, Hermione checked her watch. She bordered on hysteria when she gasped out that he only had ten minutes until his lesson with Dumbledore. She fixed up his tie, straightening his collar and his robes. Harry adjusted his glasses so they weren't hanging off one ear. Hermione helped him straighten up, making another valiant attempt that day to flatten his hair - though this time it had been her fault why it was particularly dishevelled.

"Here," Hermione then passed him the Marauder's map. He took it, checking that the coast was clear, and pushed open the door to their hiding spot. Taking care not to knock over any mops and buckets, they extracted themselves. Harry turned to Hermione, grinning as he then went to move her tie to a straight position, pulling her blouse a little straighter from where one of his more excitable touches had started to get carried away.

"Not out here," Hermione hissed at him, patting his hands away as she went to fix her own uniform. Harry chuckled, reaching for his Invisibility Cloak and pulling it clear from his expanded pocket.

"No one is here." He pointed out then to prove it, he placed a reckless kiss right on her lips. Hermione scowled at him.

"If you get stuck scrubbing bed pans, don't blame me." Her face then softened and she kissed him back. She then rested her hands on his shoulders, staring deeply into his eyes. "I'll wait up for you."

"I know." He smiled. "See you later."

Shaking out his Cloak, he turned as he threw it over his shoulders, disappearing from view completely as he made his secret way to his secret lesson. When he glanced over his shoulder before turning the corner, he saw that Hermione had already gone.

Making his solitary way to Dumbledore's unseen was a lonely experience but thankfully the journey wasn't too long. Giving the password to the gargoyle once he arrived at the entrance, he stepped onto the waiting staircase, only then starting to wonder what part of Voldemort's life he would be investigating that night. He only removed the Invisibility Cloak once he had entered the threshold and closed the office door behind him.

The usual gentle ambient sounds of Dumbledore's office greeted him as he entered, glancing over at the intricate instruments that clattered and whirred on the shelves at the walls. Looking ahead, Harry saw Dumbledore waiting for him, his white beard gleaming in the silvery glow of the pensieve that was set on the desk before him, waiting for the lesson to being. Harry returned his cloak into his pocket, glancing upwards to the frames of the previous headmasters, confirming that they were all snoring. Whether feigned or not, Harry could only guess. As always, Dumbledore greeted him with a warm smile, blue eyes surveying him over the tops of his half-moon glasses. Cast in the eerie glow of the pensieve, his face appeared more heavily lined than usual.

"Good evening, Harry."

"Evening, Professor," Harry said as he set his bag down on the floor beside his seat opposite Dumbledore.

"I have a matter to discuss with you before we begin so please take a seat and get comfortable."

Harry swallowed and did as he was told, drawing out the chair and settling down. The last time he'd been in the office, Dumbledore had given Harry the photographs that had been sold to The Daily Prophet of him and Hermione. Harry winced, knowing that he'd been less than polite during that whole fiasco.

"I am afraid I have reached a point with the Minister for Magic where I am going to have to compromise." Dumbledore's tone turned grave suddenly, the twinkle gone from his eye. "He is a desperate man, clinging on to control of a country on the brink of a panic, and I fear that he will try to force a meeting with you."

Of all the things he expected to hear, it wasn't that. Harry recoiled a little, frowning.

"A meeting? He wants to meet me?"

"He has wished to meet you since he first received the appointment but I argued firmly against it. So far, he has been unable to force the issue."

Harry shook his head, confused. "What does he want to meet with me about? Is it about what happened at the Department of Mysteries?"

Dumbledore eyed him sadly as he brought it up. Harry felt a crush of pain inside as he did, not needing to remind himself of that day and what terrible cost it brought him.

"Not at present. He is after your support - public support, to be more precise. He wishes you to be seen supporting the Ministry."

"W-what?" Harry choked out in shock. "Is he mad ? After everything Fudge did last year? After Umbridge ?"

"Actually the idea came from Cornelius first. I, of course, told him that there was no chance you would ever agree." Dumbledore's gaze did indeed turn cold. "Then Scrimgeour made the same demands of me and I argued against it."

"The paper mentioned that you argued," Harry mused aloud.

"Yes, it can report the truth on occasion," Dumbledore said with a small smile, "and I believe that the public's response to its last coverage on you, shall we call it, has made him all the more determined. As he loses public opinion, you gain it and he has noticed."

Harry stared, feeling a little sick, as he conjured up images of being forced to shake hands with the Minister and act like all was well. Made to plaster on fake smiles and deliver speeches that would be written for him. His skin prickled, crawling at the thought of being used. First they used him as a scapegoat and next they wanted him as their mascot?

"We are going to need to work this in your favour," Dumbledore continued, "before Scrimgeour does something he will regret. A meeting is inevitable, Harry, but he will not be able to force you into anything. I will not allow it - quite simply."

Harry let out a sharp breath, relieved then.

"So all I have to do is hear what he has to say?" He asked, just confirming what they were talking about.

"That is all," Dumbledore nodded, "and, by all means, you can use the opportunity for him to hear what you have to say."

"When will this meeting happen? Where…? How?" Harry shook his head, wrapping his head around the gravity of what they were talking about. He'd gone from having one Minister trying to destroy his reputation and get him expelled to another who was desperate for his support. His life never stopped getting more and more insane.

"Before that is decided, you need to accept first."

Harry eyed Dumbledore cautiously. "If I don't, what extreme measures will he go to?"

In response, Dumbledore steepled his fingers, expression grave.

"Scrimgeour was the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before his appointment. He is very well aware of potential charges he could place on you - reliable ones as well. Charging you officially would be a disaster, but he could easily get a warrant and that would supersede my authority. You could be brought into the Ministry for questioning."

Aghast, Harry sat back. "What charges? I haven't done anything!"

Guilt squirmed inside him the moment he said as much. He knew that he had done something. His use of the cruciatus curse on Bellatrix Lestrange came to his mind in particular among the rest of the devastation he left in his wake while trying to get him and his friends out of the trap he'd fallen for.

"I am afraid you have, Harry. Did you not unlawfully trespass on Ministry property? Breaking and entering is a crime in our world as well as the muggle one."

"I…" Harry brought his hands up to his head. "That's not a serious crime…"

Compared to using an unforgivable curse, he inwardly mused.

"No, compared to everything else that transpired, it is a very minor infraction but it is still one nonetheless. I think you would rather not have to go through being processed and questioned for something so mundane. Not when we can negotiate with Rufus in much more civilised ways."

Harry sighed, nodding. He had a suspicion then that Dumbledore knew what he'd done out of sheer revenge and grief. Whatever his motives, however, he still broke the law.

"Yes, I guess so. I'll meet with him."

"I will, of course, accompany you." Dumbledore then said, surprising Harry. He looked up, meeting Dumbledore's eyes. He smiled at Harry. "Rufus has rather overlooked the fact that I'm your guardian now. If he meets with you, I will be present. Any plans he has to bully you into cooperation will fail quite dramatically."

Seeing the mischievous, triumphant gleam in Dumbledore's eyes, Harry afforded himself a smile then. Dumbledore then lowered his hands, placing them on either side of the pensieve.

"Now with that out of the way for the moment, we come back to our greater concern. Tom Riddle."

After signing both her and Harry's names up for the apparation lessons, Hermione resigned herself to what would very possibly be a dull evening. It certainly began that way when her vision unfocused as she tried to read close to the fire in the Common Room. Approaching nine, most of the house had retired leaving the older students to pass the time with studying or lounging around. Hermione wasn't left bored for very long as Ginny settled down in the space next to her that should have Harry's presence occupying it. She blinked in surprise, immediately looking for her shadow, Dean.

"He's up in the dormitory," Ginny answered her unspoken question. Hermione saw Ginny's nerves at once as she glanced up to the staircase. "Seamus wanted to talk. I think the boys are coming to their senses."

Hermione snapped her book shut, usually grateful for the distraction from reading a book she'd already read five times.

"He won't be alone. Neville went up early." Hermione assured Ginny at once.

"Where is Harry?" Ginny then asked, moving closer, her hazel eyes wide with concern. "Did he go up early as well?"

"No, he's…" Hermione hesitated. Ginny let out a soft 'ah', understanding at once.

"With Dumbledore?"

Hermione nodded, glancing around though there were only a dozen Gryffindors still up and none were noticeably trying to eavesdrop. There was, however, activity at the portrait hole, catching both her and Ginny's interest. They both frowned in unison as they spotted Ron and Lavender making their appearance just shy of curfew. As they entered, Hermione noticed something different about them. Usually, Lavender hung off Ron's arm, clinging to him like devil's snare. Ron would normally have his hand on her lower back or he wouldn't be touching her at all. It was almost as if she was an accessory, slung over him.

Ron had his arm around Lavender's waist, holding her close to him. He then turned her around, moving his head down to her ear. Lavender then looked over her shoulder, meeting Hermione and Ginny's blatant stares. She turned back to Ron, whispering something back in his. He then dropped his arms from her and straightened, looking directly at Hermione as well.

Lavender placed a kiss on Ron's cheek and walked away from him, heading for the stairs up to the dormitories. Ron, meanwhile, headed off to the noticeboard away from them. Hermione immediately shared a meaningful look with Ginny.

"I'm going to head up to bed," Ginny then announced, stretching up her arms as she then hopped off the seat. She flicked her gaze over to Ron and back to Hermione pointedly. Hermione shook her head, turning her face from Ron so she could whisper without him overhearing.

"I'm not talking to him without Harry," she said under her breath. Ginny just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. Just remember what I said. Let him have a chance at least." Ginny said, shortly, her tone harsh. Before Hermione could take offence, Ginny was leaving. Gasping incredulously, Hermione turned in her seat, watching the youngest Weasley head past Ron. She didn't say a word to her brother, but he looked over his shoulder to see her pass, their eyes meeting as he did. Ron then looked over in Hermione's direction.

"Oh, for Goodness sake," Hermione seethed, now infuriatingly alone and without any real excuse to give if Ron did try to talk to her. She glanced over to the last straggler group of seventh years, alarmed to see that they were getting up from their spaces and making a move as well. It was the ideal opportunity for Ron to speak to her in private.

While she could head up to the dormitory herself, she also was down in the Common Room to wait for Harry. Sighing in frustration, she snatched her copy of Standard Book of Spells: Volume Six and went to pretend to read. She caught Ron's movement in the corner of her eye, all too aware that he'd also noticed the opportunity. Her heart started to race, suddenly anxious and angry at the same time.

When he cleared his throat, stopping a sensible distance from her as if expecting violence, Hermione stilled behind her book.

"Er… where's Harry?"

Bristling at his audacity to ask after Harry, Hermione practically threw her book down next to her. Head flicking up, she glared at Ron, faltering for a second. As she took him in, it was the first time that they had willingly made eye contact in weeks. Something pulsed through her, a painful feeling, unresolved hurt returning from where she'd smothered it. Ron was wary, his frame tense, bracing himself as if he expected her to attack.

Which, she then reasoned, was a fair enough assumption to make when she did want to attack him for what he said to Harry.

She knew what Harry would say to her if he was there. Be civil.

"What does it matter to you?" She snapped before she could stop herself. So much for being civil. Ron visibly flinched at the venom in her voice. His throat bobbed in response, appearing hurt for a moment before his eyes hardened. His ears were, as expected, reddening.

"I… I wanted to have a word with him about…" He glanced around before settling for frowning at the floor. "Quidditch."

The laugh that escaped her didn't sound like her. It was bitter, twisted and cold. She got to her feet, clenching her hands into fists as she faced up to him. Ron's eyes darted around her face, alarmed yet he didn't back off.

"Oh, was that the reason you left the Keeper gloves he gave you for Christmas on his bed? So you could talk to him about quidditch?" She asked him snidely, going then to cross her arms as she glared at him down her nose. "Is that all you care about? Whether or not Harry is going to keep you on the team?"

Her anger pulsed through her, furious on Harry's behalf. She even felt a buzz of victory when Ron glared back at her, rising to the bait.

"I'm not going to be some pity project any more." He seethed back. "He can have McLaggen and you can all be 'Slug Chums' or whatever it is that you call yourselves."

"A pity project?" Hermione repeated, outraged. "That is so rich, Ron! I know what you said to him. You practically accused him of using pity for his own gain." She took a step towards him, her heart racing as her adrenaline spiced her blood, gearing for the fight. "How could you?"

Ron then took a step back from her, a gasp escaping, as his eyes widened.

"He told you." Ron just stated.

"Only yesterday," she admitted, "he didn't want me to know because he was worried about how I would react."

She drew in a deep breath, bringing herself back under control. Harry had kept his silence for the very reason she was demonstrating.

"As for where Harry is, he's meeting with Dumbledore," she added quietly after a moment, "so I don't know when he'll be back."

Ron's shoulders dropped at the news.

"Oh right… I, um, forgot that he has those lessons."

"I did too," she said before thinking, the honesty coming out of her instinctively in Ron's presence. Ron's eyes flickered up to meet hers. "As did Harry. We've been all so wrapped up in our personal drama, we… we've forgotten that there are matters so much more important than quidditch teams and… and kissing."

As she said as much, she felt foolish and embarrassed. Her face warmed, knowing that she was just at fault with losing sight of the bigger picture.

"Harry has so much to handle right now and he needs support now more than ever." She said, feeling the need to fill the awkward, swelling silence that threatened to bloom between them. "We all need to talk and resolve this. I can't say that things will be like they were because they won't be. Nothing short of a time turner can fix this now, but… we can at least take one stress out of Harry's life… out of all our lives."

Ron's brow furrowed a little but then resignation entered his gaze. He let out a short, mirthless laugh and moved back from her, dropping down into the seat next to the one Hermione occupied. He propped his elbows on his thighs then rested his head into his hands. Hermione watched him for a moment, torn with indecision. The vindictive side of her wanted to leave Ron to stew in his guilt and regret. The part of her still absolutely livid with Ron for hurting Harry agreed with that side. She also didn't want to have the conversation without Harry. But seeing that they were actually talking and it appeared Ron was willing to listen, she couldn't pass up the opportunity.

"It hurt that you believed I was only able to be good at something for once with the help of a potion," Ron's voice was muffled under his hands, "and it hurt that Harry pitied me so much, he had to resort to tricking me."

Hermione rocked her head back, groaning in frustration. How could Ron be so oblivious? She then swept back over to her chair, pushing her book aside and sat on the edge, catching Ron's attention.

"You got the completely wrong idea from the whole thing and then didn't even give either me or Harry time to explain. You just charged off, acting like the injured party, because you always assume the worst." She ranted at him. "Even if Harry had spiked your drink, the Felix Felicis wouldn't have magically turned you into the world's best keeper. Every save you made… you already had the ability to do it. The potion would have just pushed you in the right direction. I never, ever, said that you couldn't save everything. I just said that the potion was the reason why - and you believed it too."

Ron gave her an inscrutable look, nose wrinkling as he looked away.

"Harry never pitied you, not once. You pitied yourself. He never gave up on you even when you gave up on yourself. He believed in you and gave you the benefit of the doubt." She insisted on Harry's behalf. "How could you not see that?"

Ron looked away. "I don't know," he said quietly in a hollow tone.

"I believed in you too." She then said and her throat started to thicken as her emotions crested. "I tried to be patient, but you made it so hard. You were angry with me and it's only when Harry told me that I learned why. You were jealous over Viktor? Over a kiss we had nearly two years ago? Again… you got insecure and let it out on me."

Her eyes started to dew. Furiously, she blinked the tears away.

"Can you really be surprised that Harry and I had enough of you taking us for granted?" She asked him. He winced at her words, hurt causing his face to twitch. His eyes then hardened, anger returning in response to the hurt.

"Was that why you both decided to go to the party together? Why you ganged up on me?" Ron demanded.

Hermione hesitated before retorting in kind. She let out a breath before answering.

"At first, yes. You hurt me and so I wanted to hurt you," she said honestly. Ron recoiled in surprise. "If I had known you would take it out on Harry… I wouldn't have gone along with it. He was only trying to help make me feel better."

Sighing, Ron bowed his head. "I guess that seeing you together hurt more than anything you could have done. I didn't know why, just that it hurt and it… well, I guess it made things get distorted. Harry just gets things so easily and everyone is on his side. Harry this, Harry that. I got mad and all I could think about was…"

He brought his hands up to his face, rubbing at his eyes. Hermione looked away, sucking at her teeth as she struggled to hold in her rage.

"Just admit it, Ron," she then forced out, "admit that you're jealous… because you know what? Hiding from the fact that you are is the reason we're in this mess!" She threw her hands up empathetically. "It's human to be jealous! You can't help how you feel, but you can try to reason with it before you do something you can't take back. I understand that you feel... inferior next to Harry. Like you feel like you're in constant competition with him. But you never stop to think that Harry doesn't purposefully make you feel this way. You're resentful for something he can't help!"

Ron didn't move or speak for a moment, silence falling between them. Hermione sat back, breathing heavily, feeling a little dizzy.

A soft thud at the portrait hole broke the tenuous silence. Hermione's heart leapt, a gasp escaping her. She checked her watch, seeing that it was past ten - two hours since Harry's meeting with Dumbledore started. Ron's head snapped up at the sound as the fat-lady's portrait clicked shut, the sound over-loud in the ringing silence.

She was on her feet in a flash, staring at the hole. The air shimmered oddly for a moment as reality rippled before Harry removed the Invisibility Cloak. Ron then staggered to his feet. Harry said nothing as he entered the Common Room, folding his cloak as he approached.

He frowned questioningly at Hermione first, mouth down-turned as he glanced at Ron. He came to a stop a few feet away, squaring up his shoulders as he faced Ron, rolling them in a threatening manner that would have Hermione rolling her eyes in any other situation. His gaze flicked between her and Ron. She then looked over to Ron, seeing how red-rimmed his eyes were. And how wet.

Harry then sighed, reaching up to take off his glasses so he could rub a hand over his eyes. He returned his glasses, looking right at Hermione and drew towards her.

"Is everything alright?" He asked while his hand hovered close to where he had his wand stowed. Ron then steeled himself, taking a step towards Harry.

"H-Harry-." Ron started. Harry stiffened at once, head whipping to the side to level a glare at Ron.

"I wasn't talking to you." He spat. Ron immediately drew back. Harry looked back to Hermione, his eyes softening though his entire body was tense. "Hermione?"

"I can look after myself," she assured him, holding his gaze, trying to communicate how she had things handled well enough. His brow smoothed as he got her non-verbal message. His shoulders relaxed a little. He closed the distance between them, his green eyes sweeping over her face to confirm that she really was alright. Then he rounded on Ron, folding his arms.

"I hope that among whatever you've been saying to Hermione, there was something along the lines of 'I'm sorry for being an absolute arse and treating you like garbage'," Harry said tightly, "because if not, I want you to stay the hell away from my girlfriend until you apologise to her."

"Harry…" Hermione whispered, stunned at his ferociousness. She looked up at his stony face, watching him out stare Ron, not blinking. Then she turned to Ron who had appeared to have lost his bluster and anger completely. Facing down Harry, the blood had drained from his face. His eyes were round, mouth hanging open. He then swallowed, shifting on his feet nervously as he then looked at Hermione. He cleared his throat, hands clenching and unclenching.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, "I… I really am… and you're right. Well, of course you are, you're right about everything." A feeble attempt of a smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. He glanced at Harry briefly before holding her gaze. "I am jealous and I know, it's an ugly thing. It just… takes over and makes me do things without thinking them through."

His voice broke as he then drew in a sharp breath. His eyes glimmered with tears once again as he looked over to Harry. Hermione noticed that he was shaking.

"Wh-what I said to you was unforgivable." Ron screwed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. "I know… whatever chance I had to apologise and resolve this, I blew it when I… I said those things to you. So I want to make it easier for you. I'm should leave the team so you don't have to deal with me anymore than you have to. I… I don't deserve the position and we all know I shouldn't have had it in the first place."

He drew a sharp breath, opening his eyes. As he did, a tear escaped. He hastily brought his sleeve up to wipe it away. Just as his tears had quelled Hermione's rage, the sight of Ron's inner struggle extinguished Harry's. He let out a soft moan.

"You… you probably have more important things to talk about between you so… so I'm going to leave you in peace." Ron then backed up, turning away from them as his composure cracked completely. Without another word, he hurried away from them, arm over his face.

"Ron?" Harry called after him, shocked, but Ron didn't turn back.

"Let him go," Hermione said, reaching for his arm. Harry wobbled a little as he staggered back, his eyes wide as he watched Ron's flight up the stairwell to the dormitory. Harry appeared wretched, face paling.

"He was crying," Harry's voice was breathless with shock.

"Harry…" Hermione studied Harry closely, knowing his default reaction was to blame himself. "He needs to deal with this himself."

Sighing, Harry ducked his head, nodding. "I know. I just… well… I wasn't expecting this welcome."

Hermione guided him over to their seats and he didn't protest, letting her push him down. His legs folded as he plonked himself on the cushions. He rubbed at his temples, still shocked.

"Whatever happened with Dumbledore can wait until tomorrow if you'd rather we just… sit here," Hermione suggested. She settled herself next to him, frowning at her discarded book as she nearly sat on it, moving it aside.

"I'm still trying to process everything that happened with Dumbledore." Harry said with a shaky laugh. Hermione drew closer to him. She murmured into his ear.

"Then let's make the most of the empty Common Room."