Chapter 183: The Start Of Something

The fact that Harry was going out with my sister seemed to interest a great number of people, most of them jealous girls. It seemed that a number of girls had secret crushes Harry, and saw my sister as someone that had taken Harry off of the invisible market. A number of rumors had started to surface. From Ginny only playing Quidditch to show off her body and newly developed moves (even though according to Hermione, Ginny had been playing Quidditch secretly for ages, way before she had met Harry), to her using a love potion to ensure poor innocent Harry's heart. They were the talk of the school, which in a way was better conversation than Death Eaters.

"You'd think people had better things to gossip about," said Ginny, as she sat on the common-room floor, leaning against Harry's legs and reading the Daily Prophet. "Three Dementor attacks in a week, and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it's true you've got a Hippogriff tattooed across your chest."

Hermione and I both roared with laughter. Harry ignored us.

"What did you tell her?" he asked.

"I told her it's a Hungarian Horntail," said Ginny, turning a page of the newspaper idly. "Much more macho."

"Thanks," said Harry, grinning. "And what did you tell her Ron's got?"

"A Pygmy Puff, but I didn't say where."

I scowled as Hermione rolled around laughing.

"Watch it," I said, pointing warningly at Harry and Ginny. "Just because I've given my permission doesn't mean I can't withdraw it."

"'Your permission?"scoffed Ginny. "Since when did you give me permission to do anything? Anyway, you said yourself you'd rather it was Harry than Michael or Dean."

"Yeah, I would," I said grudgingly. "And just as long as you don't start snogging each other in public-"

"You filthy hypocrite! What about you and Lavender, thrashing around like a pair of eels all over the place?" demanded Ginny.

But my tolerance was not to be tested much as we moved into June, for Harry and Ginny's time together was becoming increasingly restricted. Ginny's O.W.L.s were approaching and she was therefore forced by Hermione to revise for hours into the night. On one such evening, when Ginny had retired to the library and Harry was sitting beside the window in the common room, finishing his Herbology homework, Hermione dropped into the seat between he and I with an unpleasantly purposeful look on her face.

"I want to talk to you, Harry."

"What about?" said Harry suspiciously, looking as if he was thinking about the previous day, when Hermione had told him off for distracting Ginny when she ought to be working hard for her examinations.

"The so-called Half-Blood Prince."

"Oh, not again," he groaned. "Will you please drop it?"

"I'm not dropping it," said Hermione firmly, "until you've heard me out. Now, I've been trying to find out a bit about who might make a hobby of inventing Dark spells-"

"He didn't make a hobby of it-"

"He, he-who says it's a he?"

"We've been through this," said Harry crossly. "Prince, Hermione, Prince!"

"Right!" said Hermione, as she pulled a very old piece of newsprint out of her pocket and slammed it down on the table in front of Harry. "Look at that! Look at the picture!"

Harry picked up the crumbling piece of paper and I leaned over for a look, too. The picture showed a skinny girl of around fifteen. She was rather ghastly looking; she looked simultaneously cross and sullen, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face. Underneath the photograph was the caption: Eileen Prince, Captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team.

"So?" said Harry.

"Her name was Eileen Prince. Prince, Harry." said Hermione with emphasis.

Harry bursted out laughing.

"No way."

"What?"

"You think she was the Half-Blood...? Oh, come on."

"Well, why not, Harry? There aren't any real princes in the wizarding world! It's either a nickname, a made-up title somebody's given themselves, or it could be their actual name, couldn't it? No, listen! If, say, her father was a wizard whose surname was 'Prince', and her mother was a Muggle, then that would make her a 'half-blood Prince'!"

I sat back and watched them argue. I really didn't have too much to say on the matter.

"Yeah, very ingenious, Hermione ..." retorted Harry.

"But it would! Maybe she was proud of being half a Prince!"

"Listen, Hermione, I can tell it's not a girl. I can just tell."

"The truth is that you don't think a girl would have been clever enough," said Hermione angrily.

"How can I have hung round with you for five years and not think girls are clever?" said Harry, looking offended my Hermione's assumption. "It's the way he writes. I just know the Prince was a bloke, I can tell. This girl hasn't got anything to do with it. Where did you get this, anyway?"

"The library," said Hermione. "There's a whole collection of old Prophets up there. Well, I'm going to find out more about Eileen Prince if I can."

"Enjoy yourself," said Harry irritably.

"I will," said Hermione. "And the first place I'll look," she shot at him, as she reached the portrait hole, "is records of old Potions awards!"

Harry scowled after her for a moment, then looked over at me, as if I knew what to say.

"She's just never got over you outperforming her in Potions," I said, returning to my copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

"You don't think I'm mad, wanting that book back, do you?" Harry asked.

"Course not," I said truthfully. "He was a genius, the Prince. Anyway ... without his bezoar tip ..." I drew my finger significantly across my own throat, "I wouldn't be here to discuss it, would I? I mean, I'm not saying that spell you used on Malfoy was great-"

"Nor am I," said Harry quickly.

"But he healed all right, didn't he? Back on his pasty white feet in no time."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Thanks to Snape ..."

"You still got detention with Snape this Saturday?" I asked.

"Yeah, and the Saturday after that, and the Saturday after fucking that," sighed Harry. "And he's hinting now that if I don't get all the boxes done by the end of term, we'll carry on next year."

"Sucks to be you, mate." I said shrugging and I looked back down at my textbook.

"Gee thanks for the sympathetic ear, Ron." said Harry in a sarcastic voice.

"Anytime, mate."

"Message for your, Harry." said Jimmy Peakes, who had appeared from almost out of nowhere and was holding out a scroll of parchment.

"Thanks, Jimmy ... hey, it's from Dumbledore!" said Harry excitedly, unrolling the parchment and scanning it. "He wants me to go to his office as quick as I can!"

"Blimey," I whispered. "You don't reckon ... he hasn't found ...?"

"Better go and see, hadn't I?" said Harry, jumping to his feet and walking out the portrait hole.

I sat and finished studying the mindless facts I needed for my Herbology exam. About an hour later, Hermione came back in, slumping down beside me.

"Done with your Prince chase?" I asked jokingly, not even looking up from my book.

"Oh shut up," snapped Hermione, though it wasn't filled with much bite. "Where's Harry?"

"He went off to Dumbledore's office a while ago."

"You sure he's just not off snogging your sister?" laughed Hermione, stretching her legs out and propping them over my legs.

"Peakes delivered a note. And yuck, you had to remind me. They make my stomach turn." I said, acting as if I was going to throw up.

"I dunno," said Hermione, "I think its sweet. Harry hasn't been this genuinely happy since before Voldemort's re- oh stop it with the cringing, Ron!"

"Stop saying his name then, Hermione! But, you do have a point. Ginny does make Harry happy, and vice versa. A hell of a lot better than Cho did, that's for sure."

"I'm happy for them. What did your mum say when she found out?" asked Hermione.

"Oh I could practically hear her squealing as I read Ginny's letter." I said as I rolled my eyes. "She was going on about how she knew something was going to happen between them, and how she thought that they were a good match, and how she couldn't wait to see them when we got home. Probably to start making plans for their wedding."

Hermione laughed. "Sounds like her alright."

"She said a couple other things too, you know." I said, looking down at Hermione's knees.

"Really? Like what?"

I took a gulp, but decided to just say it. I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

"She inquired about us." I said, not even making an attempt to look at Hermione's face.

I felt Hermione's leg tremble a bit against mine. "About us? Really?" she said in a somewhat nervous voice.

"Yeah," I said, finally looking over at her. "Apparently she wondered when we were going to end up together."

"She did?" whispered Hermione.

I nodded, feeling the blush spread from my cheeks to my ears.

"Did you write her back?"

"Ginny did, but not about us, and I didn't say anything."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There was an awkward pause. And then...

"I have a question to ask you, Ron." said Hermione, in an almost businesslike voice.

"Anything."

Do...do you like me?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs every variation of the word "yes" that I could think of. Polite ones, vulgar ones, foreign ones. However, my mouth had a mind of its own and answered "What kind of question is that?"

Hermione looked slightly rebuffed. "Its...I mean..."

I tried to recover as quick as I could. "No, I didn't mean that in a bad way or anything. Dammit, I really didn't even mean to say that."

Hermione looked a bit relieved, however, still anticipating my answer.

"What I mean to say is that I should be asking you that." I said. "Especially with the shit I put you through."

"Language, and I rather not talk about that."

"But I need to, okay?" I said, grabbing Hermione's hand. "I went about that whole Lavender thing all wrong. I made you hate me over something that should have never happened."

"I never hated you Ron.."

"I rubbed that shit in your face almost every single day for months Hermione, and I'm really sorry, okay?" I said, as the words flowed out of my mouth like a rushing river. "I should have talked to you instead of giving into Lavender snogging me. I should have went to the Slug Club party with you like we had planned. Maybe if I did..."

"...we would have been together." finished Hermione, eyes shiny from what looked like tears being held in.

"Yeah...still together." I said, squeezing her hand gently.

Hermione reached out and touched my cheek. "Let's not think about that. It's over and done with, and I forgave everything when you had been poisoned. The way I see it, there really isn't any reason why-"

The portrait hole opened and Harry came rushing through it, looking a bit out of sorts. Hermione quickly moved her legs off of mine and sat up straight.

"Hey Harry, what does Dumbledore want?" she said at once. "Harry, are you okay?" she added anxiously.

"I'm fine," said Harry shortly, racing past us. We looked at him go, then looked back at each other. Thirty seconds later, he came back down the steps.

"I haven't got much time," Harry panted, "Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen ..."

Quickly he told us where he was going, and why. He did not pause either for Hermione's gasps of horror or for my hasty questions.

"... so you see what this means?" Harry finished at a gallop. "Dumbledore won't be here tonight, so Malfoy's going to have another clear shot at whatever he's up to. No, listen to me!" he hissed angrily, as both Hermione and I tried to interrupt him. "I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here-" He shoved the Marauder's Map into Hermione's hand. "You've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape, too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the DA. Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he's put extra protection in the school, but if Snape's involved, he'll know what Dumbledore's protection is, and how to avoid it-but he won't be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?"

"Harry-" began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

"I haven't got time to argue," said Harry curtly. "Take this as well-" He thrust the socks into my hands.

"Thanks," I said, looking oddly at the socks. "Er-why do I need socks?"

"You need what's wrapped in them, it's the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say goodbye to her from me. I'd better go, Dumbledore's waiting-"

"No!" said Hermione, as I unwrapped the tiny little bottle of golden potion, gazing at it as if it were Chudley Cannons tickets. "We don't want it, you take it, who knows what you're going to be facing?"

"I'll be fine, I'll be with Dumbledore," said Harry. "I want to know you lot are okay ... don't look like that, Hermione, I'll see you later"

And he was off, hurrying back through the portrait hole, leaving Hermione and I bewildered.