Chapter 168: Keeper Goals

As Hermione had predicted, the sixth-years' free periods were not the hours of blissful relaxation I had anticipated, but times in which to attempt to keep up with the vast amount of homework we were being set. Not only were we studying as though we had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before.

Both Harry and I barely understood half of what Professor McGonagall said to us these days; even Hermione had had to ask her to repeat instructions once or twice.

Incredibly, and to Hermione's increasing resentment (and my secret jealously), Harry's best subject had suddenly become Potions, thanks to the Half-Blood Prince.

Non-verbal spells were now expected, not only in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but in Charms and Transfiguration too. Hermione, as usual, were starting to get them down, however. I struggled, and only managed to look as if I were constipated, along with the rest of the class.

It was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; we were dealing with more dangerous plants than ever in Herbology, but at least we were still allowed to swear loudly if the Venomous Tentacula seized us unexpectedly from behind.

One result of our enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing non-verbal spells was that we had so far been unable to find time to go and visit Hagrid. He had stopped coming to meals at the staff table, an ominous sign, and on the few occasions when we had passed him in the corridors or out in the grounds, he acted as if he didn't see nor hear us.

"We've got to go and explain," said Hermione, looking up at Hagrid's huge empty chair at the staff table the following Saturday at breakfast.

"We've got Quidditch tryouts this morning!" I said. "And we're supposed to be practicing that Aguamenti Charm from Flitwick! Anyway, explain what? How are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?"

"We didn't hate it!" said Hermione.

"Shit, speak for yourself, I haven't forgotten the Skrewts," I said darkly. "And I'm telling you now, we've had a narrow escape. You didn't hear him going on about his gormless brother - we'd have been teaching Grawp how to tie his shoelaces if we'd stayed."

"I hate not talking to Hagrid," said Hermione, looking upset.

"We'll go down after Quidditch," Harry assured her. "But trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied. I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."

"Oh, come on, Harry," said Hermione, suddenly impatient. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."

I gagged on a large piece of kipper. Did she just say that Harry was fanciable?! Did that mean that she really fancied Harry?!

"Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One'-well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"

Harry looked uneasy at Hermione's words. I was too busy trying to recover to care.

"And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway..."

"You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look," I said, shaking back my sleeves.

What the bloody hell was going on? I had just as much battle scars as Harry did!

"And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either," Hermione finished, clearly ignoring my.

"I'm tall," I said, glaring hard at Hermione. I couldn't get over this. Since when was she noticing Harry all of a sudden? I wasn't completely clear if she had fancied me, but I had been feeling like maybe she could consider me.

But Harry? Did she really fancy him?

The post owls arrived, swooping down through rain-flecked windows, scattering everyone with droplets of water. Hedwig landed in front of Harry, carrying a large, square package. A moment later, an identical package landed in front of me, crushing beneath it was Pig, who looked exhausted, but proud.

"Ha!" said Harry, unwrapping the parcel to reveal a new copy of Advanced Potion-Making, fresh from Flourish and Blotts.

"Oh good," said Hermione, delighted. "Now you can give that graffitied copy back."

"Are you mad?" said Harry. "I'm keeping it! Look, I've thought it out -"

He pulled the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and tapped the cover with his wand, muttering, "Diffindo!" The cover fell off. He did the same thing with the brand-new book (Hermione looked scandalized). He then swapped the covers, tapped each, and said, "Reparo!"

There sat the Prince's copy, disguised as a new book, and there sat the fresh copy from Flourish and Blotts, looking thoroughly second-hand.

"I'll give Slughorn back the new one, he can't complain, it cost nine Galleons."

Hermione pressed her lips together, looking angry and disapproving, but was distracted by a third owl landing in front of her carrying that day's copy of the Daily Prophet. She unfolded it hastily and scanned the front page.

"Anyone we know dead?" I asked as I looked over my parcel, finding a letter from Bill amongst my other things.

"No, but there have been more dementor attacks," said Hermione. "And an arrest."

"Excellent, who?" said Harry.

"Stan Shunpike," said Hermione.

"What?" said Harry, startled.

"'Stanley Shunpike, conductor on the popular Wizarding conveyance the Knight Bus, has been arrested on suspicion of Death Eater activity. Mr. Shunpike, 21, was taken into custody late last night after a raid on his Clapham home...'"

"Stan Shunpike, a Death Eater?" said Harry. "No way!"

"He might have been put under the Imperius Curse," I suggested. "You never can tell."

"It doesn't look like it," said Hermione, who was still reading. "It says here he was arrested after he was overheard talking about the Death Eaters' secret plans in a pub." She looked up with a troubled expression on her face. "If he was under the Imperius Curse, he'd hardly stand around gossiping about their plans, would he?"

"It sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than he did," I said. "Isn't he the one who claimed he was going to become Minister of Magic when he was trying to chat up those Veela?"

"Yeah, that's him," said Harry. "I dunno what they're playing at, taking Stan seriously."

"They probably want to look as though they're doing something," said Hermione, frowning. "People are terrified-you know the Patil twins' parents want them to go home? And Eloise Midgen has already been withdrawn. Her father picked her up last night."

"What!" I said, goggling at Hermione. "But Hogwarts is safer than their homes, bound to be! We've got Aurors, and all those extra protective spells, and we've got Dumbledore!"

"I don't think we've got him all the time," said Hermione very quietly, glancing toward the staff table over the top of the Prophet. "Haven't you noticed? His seat's been empty as often as Hagrid's this past week."

Harry and I looked up at the staff table. Sure enough, the Headmaster's chair was empty.

"I think he's left the school to do something with the Order," said Hermione in a low voice. "I mean... it's all looking serious, isn't it?"

Harry and I did not answer, and I could tell we were all thinking the same thing. There had been a horrible incident the day before, when Hannah had been taken out of Herbology to be told her mother had been found dead. We hadn't seen Hannah since.

When we left the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, we passed Lavender and Parvati. Parvati suddenly nudged Lavender, who looked around and gave me a wide smile. I blinked at her, then returned the smile uncertainly. Her little smile put some pep in my step. Lavender had said that she was going to come see me tryout. Hermione was coming, but she was going to be there for Harry, Ginny, and I, so it wasn't like it was something special. When we got to the stands, Hermione, who had been strangely quiet since breakfast, didn't even give me a good luck before she went to the stands up find a seat.

As expected, the trials took most of the morning. Half of Gryffindor House seemed to have turned up, from first years who were nervously clutching a selection of the dreadful old school brooms, to seventh years who towered over the rest, looking coolly intimidating. Including a tosser I had only heard by name from the twins named Cormac McLaggen. And he was holding keeper gloves. He walked over and talked to Harry for an dean seconds, then walked off and sat beside Hermione. Harry looked particularly annoyed as he walked off, and when McLaggen had sat down, Hermione looked as if she wanted to move.

Harry divided everyone into groups of ten and had us fly once around the pitch. This was a good decision: the first ten was made up of first years, and it could not have been plainer that they had hardly ever flown before. Only one boy managed to remain airborne for more than a few seconds, and he was so surprised he promptly crashed into one of the goal posts.

I walked over to Hermione and sat on the other side of her as I waited for my chance to go. She seemed like she was trying to ignore me.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked. Hermione didn't say anything. All she did was shake her head, meaning nothing.

"If there's anyone else here who's not from Gryffindor," I heard Harry roar, "leave now, please!"

A couple of little Ravenclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter. I got up and began to fly with my group. I would deal with whatever Hermione was made about later.

After two hours, many complaints, and several tantrums, one involving a crashed Comet Two Sixty and several broken teeth, Harry had found three Chasers: Katie returned to the team after an excellent trial, Demelza Robins, who was particularly good at dodging Bludgers; and Ginny, who had outflown all the competition and scored seventeen goals to boot.

Neither of the chosen Beaters had the old brilliance of Fred and George, but they were alright: Jimmy Peakes, a short but broad-chested third-year boy who had managed to raise a lump the size of an egg on the back of Harry's head with a ferociously hit Bludger, and Ritchie Coote, who looked weedy but aimed well. They now joined Katie, Demelza, and Ginny in the stands to watch the selection of their last team member.

It was now time for the Keepers. I was joined by Cormac in the middle of the field.

"No hard feelings, eh Weasley?" said Cormac arrogantly.

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"Well, I'm going for Keeper of course, and also seeing what I can get out of your friend Granger over there. She's a right lovely little number, isn't she?"

I wanted to pummel him. Take his face and stomp it into the ground.

"Put in a good word for me, would ya?" he said with a wink.

"Why would I want to do something like that?" I said through gritted teeth as we each mounted our brooms.

"Well, you haven't made a move yet, so you might as well." said the cocky bastard as he flew off to one of the ends of the pitch. I forced myself to put all my evil plots of killing Cormac and walked over to the other side of the hoops to wait my turn. I looked over at Hermione, who gave me a small wave and a thumbs up. Two rows up I spotted Lavender, who smiled and gave me a much bigger wave.

Cormac saved four penalties out of five. I couldn't deny that the tosser was brilliant. On the last one, however, he shot off in completely the wrong direction; the crowd laughed and booed and McLaggen returned to the ground looking completely put out.

I felt sick to my stomach as I mounted my broom and flew up to the hoops. "Good luck!" cried a voice from the stands that instead of coming from Hermione, came from Lavender. I felt the blush form on my cheeks. She was really rooting for me.

Miraculously, I ended up saving all five penalties in a row. The crowd actually cheered and some even sang Weasley Is Our King, Lavender being the loudest.

I flew down and joined the rest of the team.

"Well done," said Harry with a hoarse voice. "You flew really well -"

"You did brilliantly, Ron!"

This time it was Hermione who said something as she was running toward us from the stands; Lavender walking off the pitch, arm in arm with Parvati, a rather grumpy expression on her face. Hermione slammed into me, hugging me tight and making me feel even more better about myself.

After fixing the time of our first full practice for the following Thursday, Harry, Hermione, and I said goodbye to the rest of the team and headed off toward Hagrid's.

"I thought I was going to miss that fourth penalty," I said chuckling. "Tricky shot from Demelza, did you see, had a bit of spin on it -"

"Yes, yes, you were magnificent," said Hermione, smiling wide at me.

"I was better than that McLaggen anyway," I said, soaking in Hermione's admiration. "Did you see him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he'd been Confunded."

The great gray hippogriff, Buckbeak, was tethered in front of Hagrid's cabin. He clicked his razor-sharp beak at our approach and turned his huge head toward us.

"Oh dear," said Hermione nervously. "He's still a bit scary, isn't he?"

"Come off it, you've ridden him, haven't you?" I said as Harry stepped forward and bowed low to the hippogriff without breaking eye contact or blinking. After a few seconds, Buckbeak sank into a bow too.

"How are you?" Harry asked him in a low voice, moving forward to stroke the feathery head. "Missing him? But you're okay here with Hagrid, aren't you?"

"Oi!" said a loud voice.

Hagrid had come striding around the corner of his cabin wearing a large flowery apron and carrying a sack of potatoes. His enormous boarhound, Fang, was at his heels; Fang gave a booming bark and bounded forward.

"Git away from him! He'll have yer fingers-oh. It's yeh lot."

Fang was jumping up at Hermione and I, attempting to lick our ears. Hagrid stood and looked at us all for a split second, then turned and strode into his cabin, slamming the door behind him.

"Oh dear!" said Hermione, looking guilty. "He's definitely mad."

"Don't worry about it," said Harry grimly. He walked over to the door and knocked loudly.

"Hagrid! Open up, we want to talk to you!"

There was no sound from within.

"If you don't open the door, we'll blast it open!" Harry said, pulling out his wand.

"Harry!" said Hermione, sounding shocked. "You can't possibly -"

"Yeah, I can!" said Harry. "Stand back -"

But before he could say anything else, the door flew open again and there stood Hagrid, glowering down at him and looking, despite the flowery apron, positively alarming.

"I'm a teacher!" he roared at Harry. "A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!"

"I'm sorry, sir," said Harry, emphasizing the last word as he stowed his wand inside his robes.

Hagrid looked stunned. "Since when have yeh called me 'sir'?"

"Since when have you called me 'Potter'?"

"Oh, very clever," growled Hagrid. "Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little..."

Mumbling darkly, he stood back to let them pass. Hermione scurried in after Harry, looking rather frightened.

"Well?" said Hagrid grumpily, as the three of us sat down around his enormous wooden table, Fang laying his head immediately upon Harry's knee and drooling all over his robes. "What's this? Feelin' sorry for me? Reckon I'm lonely or summat?"

"No," said Harry at once. "We wanted to see you."

"We've missed you!" said Hermione.

"Missed me, have yeh?" snorted Hagrid. "Yeah. Righ'."

He stomped around, brewing up tea in his enormous copper kettle, muttering all the while. Finally he slammed down three bucket-sized mugs of mahogany-brown tea in front of us and a plate of his rock cakes. Harry surprisingly took one, and I followed suit to make Hagrid feel better.

"Hagrid," said Hermione timidly, when he joined us at the table and started peeling his potatoes as if they were Death Eaters, "we really wanted to carry on with Care of Magical Creatures, you know." Hagrid gave another great snort as if to say hogwash.

"We did!" said Hermione. "But none of us could fit it into our schedules!"

"Yeah. Righ'," said Hagrid again.

There was a funny squelching sound and we all looked around: Hermione let out a tiny shriek, and I leapt out of my seat and hurried around the table away from the large barrel standing in the corner that we had only just noticed. It was full of what looked like foot-long maggots, slimy, white, and writhing.

"What are they, Hagrid?" asked Harry, sounding a mic between interested and disgusted.

"Jus' giant grubs," said Hagrid.

"And they grow into...?" I said apprehensively.

"They won' grow inter nuthin'," said Hagrid. "I got 'em ter feed ter Aragog."

And without warning, he burst into tears.

"Hagrid!" cried Hermione, leaping up, hurrying around the table the long way to avoid the barrel of maggots, and putting an arm around his shaking shoulders. "What is it?"

"It's... him..." gulped Hagrid, mopping his face with his apron. "It's... Aragog... I think he's dyin'... He got ill over the summer an' he's not gettin' better... I don' know what I'll do if he... if he... We've bin tergether so long..."

Hermione patted Hagrid's shoulder, looking at a complete loss for anything to say. I for one kept my mouth shut. I had nothing nice to say on behalf of the giant fucking spider that tried to feed us to his giant spider kids.

"Is there-is there anything we can do?" Hermione asked, ignoring my frantic grimaces and head-shakings. Fuck that. I vowed never to encounter that death nest ever again a long time ago.

"I don' think there is, Hermione," choked Hagrid, attempting to stem the flood of his tears. "See, the rest o' the tribe ... Aragog's family... they're gettin' a bit funny now he's ill... bit restive ..."

"Yeah, I think we saw a bit of that side of them," I mumbled.

"... I don' reckon it'd be safe fer anyone but me ter go near the colony at the mo'," Hagrid finished, blowing his nose hard on his apron and looking up. "But thanks fer offerin', Hermione... It means a lot."

After that, the atmosphere lightened considerably, as Hagrid took what Hermione had said into consideration. Both Harry and I glanced at each other, each one of us saying with our eyes that we were never setting foot near Aragog again

"Ar, I always knew yeh'd find it hard ter squeeze me inter yer timetables," he said gruffly, pouring us more tea. "Even if yeh applied fer Time-Turners -"

"We couldn't have done," said Hermione. "We smashed the entire stock of Ministry Time-Turners when we were there last summer. It was in the Daily Prophet."

"Ar, well then," said Hagrid. "There's no way yeh could've done it... I'm sorry I've bin-yeh know-I've jus' bin worried about Aragog ... an I did wonder whether, if Professor Grubbly-Plank had bin teachin' yeh -"

We started lying adamantly that she was complete rubbish, and that no one in the world could ever teach as good as he did, to which Hagrid smiled.

"I'm starving," said Harry, once the door had closed behind us and we were hurrying through the dark and deserted grounds. "And I've got that detention with Snape tonight, I haven't got much time for dinner."

As we came into the castle they spotted Cormac McLaggen entering the Great Hall. It took him two attempts to get through the doors; he ricocheted off the frame on the first attempt. I laughed loudly and pridefully and strode off into the Hall after him.

"No hard feelings, eh old chap?" I said, giving Cormac a hearty pat on the back when I caught up with him.

Cormac looked at me, dumbfounded and upset. "Watch it, Weasley. I'm in no mood." he said.

"Ah, hard feelings it is then. Welp, I'll see you in the stands." I said with a big fake smile on my face. Cormac sneered at me and then walked away.

I turned to see Harry give a good laugh and for Hermione to tell me not to gloat, but they were not behind me. I looked over and seen they were still at the doors, whispering.

"What are you two doing?" I demanded suspiciously, as I reappeared in the doorway to the Great Hall.

"Nothing," said Harry and Hermione together.

"Come on mate, I'm starved!" said Harry, pushing me ahead. I let it go, as the smell of roast beef was calling my name. However we had barely taken three steps toward the Gryffindor table when Professor Slughorn appeared in front of us, blocking our path.

"Harry, Harry, just the man I was hoping to see!" he beamed. "I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We're having a little party, just a few rising stars, I've got McLaggen coming and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin-I don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries-and, of course, I hope very much that Miss Granger will favor me by coming too."

Slughorn made Hermione a little bow as he finished speaking. I waited for my invite as well, however, it never came. Slughorn did not so much as look at me.

"I can't come, Professor," said Harry at once. "I've got a detention with Professor Snape."

"Oh dear!" said Slughorn, his face falling comically. "Dear, dear, I was counting on you, Harry! Well, now, I'll just have to have a word with Severus and explain the situation. I'm sure I'll be able to persuade him to postpone your detention. Yes, I'll see you both later!"

He bustled away out of the Hall.

"He's got no chance of persuading Snape," said Harry, the moment Slughorn was out of earshot. "This detention's already been postponed once; Snape did it for Dumbledore, but he won't do it for anyone else."

"Oh, I wish you could come, I don't want to go on my own!" said Hermione anxiously.

"I doubt you'll be alone, Ginny'll probably be invited," I snapped. Who did that walrus think he was? Inviting my best mates right in front of me and not even acknowledging that I was there?

After dinner we made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was very crowded, as most people had finished dinner by now, but we managed to find a free table and sat down. I was still in a foul mood from that Slughorn bullshit, so I plopped down in a chair and stared into the ceiling, not interested in talking. Hermione reached out for a copy of the Evening Prophet, which somebody had left abandoned on a chair.

"Anything new?" I overheard Harry ask.

"Not really..." Hermione had opened the newspaper and was scanning the inside pages. "Oh, look, your dad's in here, Ron...He's all right!" she added quickly, as I gave her an alarmed look. "It just says he's been to visit the Malfoys' house. 'This second search of the Death Eaters residence does not seem to have yielded any results. Arthur Weasley of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects said that his team had been acting upon a confidential tip-off.'"

"Yeah, mine!" said Harry. "I told him at Kings Cross about Malfoy and that thing he was trying to get Borgin to fix! Well, if it's not at their house, he must have brought whatever it is to Hogwarts with him-"

"But how can he have done, Harry?" said Hermione, putting down the newspaper with a surprised look. "We were all searched when we arrived, weren't we?"

"Were you?" said Harry, taken aback. "I wasn't!"

"Oh no, of course you weren't, I forgot you were late. Well, Filch ran over all of us with Secrecy Sensors when we got into the entrance hall. Any Dark object would have been found, I know for a fact Crabbe had a shrunken head confiscated. So you see, Malfoy can't have brought in anything dangerous!"

"Someone's sent it to him by owl, then," he said. "His mother or someone."

"All the owls are being checked too," said Hermione. "Filch told us so when he was jabbing those Secrecy Sensors everywhere he could reach."

I tuned the rest of the conversation out. My eye had been caught by passing blonde hair.

I watched as Parvati and Lavender had passed me and walked over to the armchair across from our table. Lavender sat down on it while Parvati sat on the arm of it and began whispering in her ear. Lavender then put her attention on me and smiled before I could manage to look as if I wasn't staring at her. I had been caught, but it seemed like that was okay, and I gave her a smile back.

"Ron," I heard Harry say, "can you think of any way Malfoy - ?"

"Oh, drop it, Harry," I said with an attitude, not really wanting to hear about Malfoy anymore.

"Listen, it's not my fault Slughorn invited Hermione and me to his stupid party, neither of us wanted to go, you know!" said Harry, firing up.

"Well, as I'm not invited to any parties," I said, getting up to my feet again, "I think I'll go to bed."

I stomped off toward the door to the boys' dorms, without giving them a backwards look. Before I could go up the stairs, I felt a tug on my robes.

"Hey Ron," said Lavender as I turned and faced her.

"Hey."

"So, I was there, in the pitch." she said, seeming to be nervous.

"I remember." I said. "Thanks for cheering for me and all."

Lavender's cheeks went red as a tomato. "Oh anytime, Ron. I knew you would make it into the team! Well, goodnight!" she said, and she turned and walked back over to the armchair she had been sitting in.

I grinned and walked up to my dorm. I changed into my pajamas, got the letter out of my bag that Bill had written me, and laid back on the bed to read it.

Ronnie,

First things first: BREATHE!

Second, this comes at no surprise to me. I have known since the first time you wrote to me first year that you would eventually take a fancy to Hermione. Don't ask me how, just trust me that I knew. You're not going off the bend, you're okay. It is completely fine to be in love with your best friend. Mum and Dad were best mates before they got together. And a lot of great relationships are based on friendships in the beginning.

You don't have to tell her anything right now if you don't feel like it. I know us Weasley men wear our hearts on our sleeves (well Dad, me, Charlie, and George do), but you also have to think rationally about it. She may not return those feelings to you. Which in all honestly, I totally doubt that she doesn't fancy you, even I seen that she did. However, telling someone how you feel can be tricky and risky.

You should try to have a conversation with her one day about fancying to feel her out. See where her head is at. That's how it was when I started to prepare myself to tell how I felt to Fleur. Of course, Fleur and Hermione are two very different females, so while Fleur was 100% open and blunt about how she felt about me (very blunt actually), Hermione may be hesitant and afraid to reveal it all to you if she returns those feelings, so don't push her. Women hate to be pushed.

Best of luck to you. Let me know what you're going to do.

And don't tell Mum. She'll start planning your wedding while her and Fleur fight over ours.

Love,

Bill