Just realized that the upcoming chapters, Ron will not be a part of the major things that are happening. So if things seemed to be a bit rushed, that will be why. Especially when it comes to the third task and the return of Voldy Boy.

Chapter 106: Secrets

One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the lake, which meant that I was getting to share Harry's limelight for once. Although, after awhile, i may have exaggerated the truth a bit. At first, I gave what seemed to be the truth; it tallied with Hermione's story. Dumbledore had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep , first assuring us that they would be quite safe, and would awake when they were back above the water. One week later, however, the story grew rather boring. So I ended up telling a thrilling tale of kidnap in which I struggled single-handedly against fifty heavily armed merpeople who had to beat me into submission before tying me up.

"But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve," I assured Padma Patil, who seemed to like me a lot better, now that I was getting so much attention and was making a point of talking to me every time we passed in the corridors. "I could've taken those mer-idiots any time I wanted."

"What were you going to do, snore at them?" said Hermione, hatefully. People had been teasing her so much about being the thing that Viktor Krum would most miss that she was in a rather agitated mood.

With that, she had totally killed my story, so I went back to telling the bewitched sleep version of events.

As my birthday came and went the weather became drier, but cruel winds seemed to fight us every time they went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. The brown owl that Harry had sent to Sirius with the dates of the Hogsmeade weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry had no sooner torn off Sirius's reply than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again.

Sirius's letter was almost as short as the previous one.

Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.

"He hasn't come back to Hogsmeade?" I questioned.

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" said Hermione.

"I can't believe him," said Harry tensely, "if he's caught..."

"Made it so far, though, hasn't he?" I said. "And it's not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore."

Harry looked worried, but at the same time, his mood improved her much. We got up, grabbed some extra bacon, and headed off to Potions, with Harry having a bit more pep in his step.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy and her gang of Slytherin bitches. All of them were looking at something and laughing heartily. Pansy's pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle's broad back as we approached.

"There they are, there they are!" she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. Pansy had a magazine in her hands, a Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.

"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Hermione, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned them all inside.

We headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape had turned his back on us to write up the ingredients of today's potion on the blackboard, Hermione quickly flipped through the pages of the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, Hermione found what they were looking for. Harry and I leaned in closer. A color photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:

HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE

A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims.

In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.

"I told you!" I hissed angrily at Hermione as she stared down at the article. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of- of fucking scarlet woman!"

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at me.

"It's what my mum calls them," I muttered, feeling my anger slowly rise.

"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling, as she threw Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."

She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Harry, and I started unpacking the ingredients we would need for our Wit-Sharpening Potion.

"There's something funny, though," said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known...?"

"Known what?" I asked quickly. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?"

"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just...how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"

Hermione blushed as she said this and tries desperately to avoid my gaze, which I knew was of nothing but hate at the moment.

"What?"

"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake. After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -"

"And what did you say?" I interrupted, picking up my pestle and grinding it on the desk, staring almost into Hermione's soul.

"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione went on, her blush so hard, I could actually see a tint of red in her skin, "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there...or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task..."

"And what did you say?" I repeated, pounding my pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.

"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay to -"

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is. Miss Granger," said an icy voice right behind us, and all three of us jumped, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Snape had came over to our desk while we were talking. The whole class was now looking around at us; Malfoy took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.

"Ah...reading magazines under the table as well?" Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. "A further ten points from Gryffindor...oh but of course..." Snape's black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. "Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings..."

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. To my surprise and fury (as well as Harry's from the look on his face), he began to read the article aloud.

"'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache...dear, dear. Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps...'"

Harry's face was about as red as my hair. Snape was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape. Even Hermione was starting to look mortified.

I looked at Snape so hard, that if I knew wandless magic, he would have blown up.

"'...Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

Furious, Harry threw his ingredients and his bag into his cauldron and dragged it up to the front of the dungeon to the empty table. Snape followed, sat down at his desk and watched Harry unload his cauldron. I sat and watched Hermione move timidly beside Pansy. Even though I was royally pissed at her for keeping yet another secret from me, I felt bad that she had to sit beside the female equivalent of Malfoy.

"All this press attention seems to have inflated your already over-large head. Potter," said Snape quietly, once the rest of the class had settled down again.

Harry didn't answer. And with good reason. He looked as if what he would say would cost Gryffindor 50 points easily.

Then, it looked as if Snape was whispering so only Harry could hear his words. He must have said something really nasty, because it looked like Harry was growling some words right back at him.

Then, Snape proceeded to show something to Harry in a small vial. From where I was sitting, I couldn't make out what it was, but I seen that Harry tensed a bit, so it must have not been too friendly.

Then, there was a knock on the dungeon door.

"Enter," said Snape in his usual voice.

The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips.

Karkaroff hovered behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away at the end of class. Harry deliberately knocked over his bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, and seemed to had gotten closer to overhear what was being said.

They looked to be arguing, and Karkaroff pulled up his left sleeve, as if showing something to Snape, who looked frantic and upset.

"Potter! What are you doing?" Snape yelled.

"Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor," said Harry innocently.

Karkaroff turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeon. He looked both worried and angry.

The day went on uneventful. Throughout classes, Harry had told us what Snape had threatened him with, and what he had overheard.

"Wonder what all that was about." said Hermione, to me. I simply shrugged as I actually wrote down what Professor Binns was saying. That's how pissed off I was. I was actually paying attention to him.

After classes and dinner, the three of us sat awkwardly in the common room. Harry watched the crackling fire, probably thinking about tomorrow. Hermione's face was in a book, but I could tell she wasn't focused on it.

I left them and went to the chessboard to play by myself. After a few minutes, Hermione came over and sat on the other side.

"Mind if I play you?" she asked.

"Don't know." I said. "Got any secret moves?"

Hermione sighed. "Ronald, just-"

"What is it with you these days?" I said to her low enough for only her to hear, but loud enough for her to know I was mad. "You said it wasn't that serious. And here you are, keeping secrets again, just like you did third year!"

"You know why I couldn't tell you about the time turner, Ron!"

"Okay, with that aside, what's your excuse this time Hermione, huh? McGonagall telling you to see him? Encouraging a secret relationship?!"

"No!" snapped Hermione. "I just didn't say anything because I knew you would be like this! And why are you?"

I didn't want to tell her like this. How could I just blurt out that I liked her through a damn argument?

"Because he's of age, Hermione!" I said instead, which was also the truth. "He is a grown man! You don't know what he is capable of! You're only 15 Hermione, 15! Your mind may be mature, but you are still a girl! And my best mate! I just don't want anything to happen to you!"

"Is that the only reason, Ron? You're just worried about me?" asked Hermione in a low voice that I couldn't really recognize as a usual for her.

Did she know? Could I admit it to her?

"Of course, Hermione." I said, not ready to take that risk. "You're my best friend. You mean a lot to me, and I would never want to see anyone take advantage of you, okay?"

Hermione gave me a look of disappointment as well as appreciation. How she pulled off both looks, or why, I couldn't say.

"Fine." she said. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want to run your life Hermione, but I just want you to be careful, okay?" I said, reaching over and tugging a curl.

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Ron. And you mean a lot to me too."

I was about to say something else, when I noticed Harry standing beside me. He must have just walked up.

"So," said Harry in a sly voice. "is Mum and Dad done arguing?"

"Shut up, Harry." we said at the same time.