The walk back to the Gryffindor Common Room was spent in silence. Harry and Ginny walked side by side, though not quite together—each lost in their own thoughts about Theo's revelations.
As they stepped through the portrait hole, Ginny didn't say a word. She veered immediately toward Demelza and Colin, slipping into conversation with them without sparing Harry a glance. He didn't take it personally—they had both realized, with an unspoken understanding, that they needed to be more careful. Gossip about them was already echoing through the corridors, and secrecy was no longer just a preference—it was a necessity.
Harry scanned the Common Room and caught Ron and Hermione's eyes across the way. Without speaking, he turned toward the stairs leading to the boys' dormitories. They followed without hesitation, as always, driven by a mixture of loyalty and curiosity.
The sixth-year dormitory was mercifully empty. Harry took a steadying breath and launched into the story of his meeting with Theo. He chose his words carefully, keeping Theo's deeper secret close to his chest. That part wasn't his to share. Instead, he focused on the Slytherin's desperation to escape his family, and the strange vulnerability that had lingered behind Theo's calm exterior.
Ron and Hermione were clearly surprised—not just by the unexpected alliance, but by Theo's willingness to take Veritaserum. And then came the moment when Harry mentioned that some Slytherins suspected he and Ginny were more than just friends.
Ron chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you seriously aren't exactly secretive about it."
Harry groaned. He knew Ron was right. Their supposed secrecy had been a farce from the beginning. They'd never been able to keep their eyes—or hands—off each other for long, and private moments were becoming more and more public.
"I don't understand," Hermione said, her brows knitting together. "What's the big deal? Why are you so determined to keep it a secret?"
Harry hesitated. Of course they didn't understand. Only Ginny knew the truth. The prophecy. The weight of it had been pressing down on him for months, and still he'd managed to keep it from the two people who had been by his side through everything.
He stared at the floor, struggling with himself. It felt wrong not to tell them. They had a right to know—maybe more than anyone. But how do you say out loud that your life has been reduced to a single, terrifying sentence? That your future has already been written in blood?
"It's… complicated," he said quietly. "But basically, it's for Ginny's protection."
Ron frowned. "Protection from what, exactly?"
Harry looked up, the shadows under his eyes darker than ever. He could see the worry on their faces, the dawning fear that maybe this was more than just young love and careful sneaking around.
And then, something shifted inside him. Enough was enough.
"Alright," he said, rising abruptly. "But not here. Let's go."
He moved with purpose, crossing the dormitory and heading back down the stairs. Ron and Hermione shared a glance before hurrying after him. In the Common Room, Ginny noticed them immediately. She stood as they approached and, without question, fell into step beside Harry, sensing something had changed.
The halls were quiet, the golden light of the torches flickering over stone walls as they passed. Curfew was close, but Harry didn't care. His thoughts were spiraling, his heart pounding with the weight of what he was about to do. When he reached the end of the corridor where the Room of Requirement usually appeared, he stopped—then turned on his heel.
Ron blinked. "Aren't we—?"
"Change of plans," Harry muttered.
He moved faster now, leading them up a new set of stairs and through a dimly lit corridor that opened into the staff wing. Without hesitating, he stopped in front of a door and knocked.
Remus Lupin opened it a moment later, his tired eyes flickering between them. If he was surprised to see four students standing there so late, he didn't show it. With a quiet nod, he stepped aside and let them in.
They settled around the low table in his sitting room, the soft light casting warm shadows on their faces. It was quiet—too quiet. Everyone's eyes were on Harry.
"This is gonna be really hard," he said, lowering himself into a chair with a heavy sigh. "But bear with me, yeah?"
They all leaned in, the room seeming to shrink around them.
"I haven't been completely honest with you. And it's not fair. You deserve the truth." He glanced between them, dread tightening his throat. "Do you remember the prophecy from the Ministry? The one that got smashed?"
"Of course," Hermione said slowly. "No one ever knew what it said."
Harry shook his head. "That's not true. Dumbledore knew. He was there when it was first spoken—Trelawney made the prophecy during her job interview. And Dumbledore… he heard every word."
Ginny's gaze met his, filled with reassurance and strength. He drew from it, like always.
"He told me what it said. The night after the Ministry," Harry continued, closing his eyes. "And now… I'm going to tell you."
He recited the prophecy in a low voice, each word feeling like a weight around his neck. When he finished, the silence in the room was thunderous.
Ron and Hermione stared at him, their faces pale and stricken. Remus looked older than ever, rubbing at his temple as if trying to banish a headache.
Harry kept his eyes closed, unwilling to see their reactions—afraid of what pity or fear he might find there.
A hand slipped into his hair. Soft. Familiar. He opened his eyes to see Ginny kneeling beside him, her other hand holding his. She smiled at him—gently, fiercely—and pressed a light kiss to his lips.
The world narrowed to just that for a moment. Then, finally, he spoke again.
"Voldemort knows part of the prophecy. Not all of it, but enough to want me dead. That's why I end up in danger so often—almost dying every school year. And that's why it's vital to hide our relationship from him. He wouldn't hesitate to use Ginny against me. He'd kidnap her, torture her, murder her—just to break me. I can't let that happen."
He looked at each of them in turn now, bracing himself.
But instead of horror or pity, what he found was something else entirely.
"We're going with you. You know that, right?" Ron said firmly, voice low but unwavering. "If it has to be you who ends him… I'm gonna be there. Every step of the way."
Harry's throat tightened. "I don't want you to. I don't want either of you in more danger—"
"Harry," Hermione interrupted, voice fierce, "we chose to follow you in first year, when we went after the Philosopher's Stone. That wasn't just about curiosity. We knew what we were doing then—and we know what we're doing now. We're not leaving you."
She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And somehow, it was.
In that quiet room, something shifted. A promise was made—not in grand speeches or noble declarations, but in the silent, steady way friends vow to face the darkness together.
The silence that followed Hermione's words was no longer heavy—it was solid. Grounded. As if something had locked into place between them.
Remus exhaled slowly, setting down the mug he hadn't even touched. When he looked up, his expression was gentler, but there was steel behind it.
"I was wondering when this conversation would happen," he said softly. "I always suspected Dumbledore had knew something."
Harry nodded, still tense, but grateful not to be met with disappointment or concern.
Remus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Alright. Then we need to make a plan."
Ron blinked. "Wait—what kind of plan?"
"The kind that makes sure Harry stays alive," Remus replied, tone calm but firm. "We can't afford to wait until things go wrong again. If Voldemort is going to keep coming after you, Harry, you need to be prepared. Really prepared."
Harry straightened. "You mean more training?"
"Exactly," Remus said. "I'm offering personal lessons—advanced Defense, practical dueling, spellwork you won't find in the Hogwarts curriculum. We'll start this week. Quietly."
Harry glanced between his friends, then back at Remus. "You'd do that?"
"I want to do that," Remus said, giving him a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I couldn't do enough for your parents. Let me do something for you."
Something clenched in Harry's chest—grief and gratitude tangled together.
"Thank you," he said, voice low.
Beside him, Ginny reached out and squeezed his hand. She didn't say anything—she didn't need to. Her presence alone grounded him, gave him strength. She already knew what the prophecy meant, and the relief on her face now wasn't about the words spoken tonight—it was about the burden no longer being Harry's alone.
"You know we'll help too," Hermione said, adjusting in her seat, her voice steady. "We'll study, we'll train, we'll research—whatever you need. And not just for you, Harry—for all of us. This is our war too."
"I'm in too," Ron added, though there was no bravado in his voice, just quiet resolve. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
Harry gave a small, crooked smile. "Didn't think I would."
Remus stood and moved toward a nearby shelf, pulling out a worn notebook and flipping it open. "I'll draw up a schedule. Some of it will need to be done after curfew—carefully. We'll rotate locations. Empty classrooms, maybe even the Room of Requirement when it's safe."
"Won't the professors notice?" Ron asked.
"Some might," Remus said. "But if it looks like I'm giving you extra help in Defense, no one will question it much. You're the Chosen One, after all."
Harry winced at the title.
Remus noticed. "I hate the phrase too. But it's also a tool. One we may have to use to keep others off your trail."
Ginny leaned her head on Harry's shoulder, just for a moment, a quiet reminder that he wasn't in this alone anymore. He turned slightly, brushing his cheek against her hair in silent thanks.
"I'll help him practice dueling too," she said suddenly, lifting her head. "We can train outside class—maybe even with a few of the DA members."
Remus nodded. "Carefully chosen ones. Only those you truly trust."
Harry met her eyes, then looked around the circle again. They weren't just offering help. They were building something. A foundation. A shield.
A family.
"I guess this means the DA is back," he murmured.
Ginny grinned. "Was it ever really gone?"
They all shared a look, a mix of dread and determination in their expressions. The road ahead was darker than ever, but for the first time in a long while, Harry felt like he wasn't walking it alone.
….
When Harry lay in bed later that evening, he felt more at peace than he could remember feeling in a long time. Now, his worries seemed almost silly—of course his friends supported him. Maybe, just maybe, he should have shared the contents of the prophecy long ago—at least over the summer at the Burrow. They would have helped him through it, and maybe he wouldn't have turned into such a moody teenager once September started.
He felt immensely relieved that all of his closest people now knew. His decision to include Remus had been spontaneous, driven mostly by the fact that the professor was one of the only adults in his life who had actually shown concern about his situation with the Dursleys—and had done something about it. And because Remus was, in many ways, his guardian now. Not officially, not on paper—but in Harry's heart. He deserved to know what he was signing up for.
Harry was also glad to finally be taking a more proactive role in shaping his future. Lessons from Remus would help ease some of the pressure—a comfort and guidance he had once expected to get from Dumbledore.
Still, after such an emotional day, doubt lingered. Theo's revelations were weighing heavily on him—especially the part about their relationship not being as secret as they'd hoped. In the rush of the moment, behind the tapestry, they hadn't even asked what kind of rumors were actually spreading around the castle.
But one thing was abundantly clear: they needed to be much, much more careful.
Because the idea that Ginny could be used against him—that someone might hurt her just to get to him—had swiftly become his greatest fear.
No. He couldn't let that happen.
Harry wasn't surprised when he heard the quiet creak of the dormitory door opening.
He didn't even open his eyes—just shifted a little to the side, already knowing who it was. Ginny moved softly, her steps practiced, and in a moment, the bed dipped as she climbed in next to him. A second later, her hand found his under the covers, warm and familiar.
"You're not asleep," she whispered, amused.
"Didn't think I'd get the chance," Harry muttered with a small smile, turning toward her. "Knew you'd show up."
Ginny smirked. "You're getting better at this whole relationship thing."
They lay in silence for a few seconds before Harry sighed.
"Do you think we should go with it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Theo's plan. Pretending to date."
Ginny didn't answer right away. She pressed her head into his shoulder, thinking.
"I hate it," she admitted. "But… I think he's right. About people watching us. If Voldemort's people are trying to figure out who matters to you, and Theo's willing to draw that attention away… it might work."
"It'd buy us time," Harry murmured. "It wouldn't protect you forever, but maybe long enough to make a difference."
They both knew it was a risk—but less of one than continuing as they were.
Ginny looked up at him, her expression serious. "We should talk to him again. Ask more about the plan. How far he's willing to go. What we'd need to do."
Harry nodded. "Tomorrow night?"
"Tomorrow night," she agreed.
For a while, neither of them said anything. Harry's hand gently traced circles on Ginny's back, and her breathing slowed, the tension of the day melting away between them. She pressed a soft kiss to his neck and whispered, "I'm proud of you, you know. For telling them. For letting them in."
He didn't answer, but the way he held her a little tighter said enough.
They drifted off like that, tangled together in the quiet dark, lulled by the safety of each other's presence.
….
The sun was already high when the curtain around Harry's bed shoved open.
"Harry, wake—" Ron's voice froze mid-sentence. "WHAT THE—?!"
Harry bolted upright, groggy and confused, just as Ginny let out a very undignified squeak and dove under the blanket.
"RON!" she hissed from somewhere beneath the covers.
"Are you SERIOUS right now?" Ron was standing in the middle of the room, red-faced and outraged, glaring at the obvious lump beside Harry.
"It's not what it looks like," Harry began.
"Oh really?" Ron snapped. "Because it looks like my little sister is in your bed!"
Ginny peeked her head out, her hair wild and cheeks flushed. "Could you not yell first thing in the morning?"
"There is nothing 'first' about this morning!" Ron barked. "It's nearly nine, classes are about to begin!"
Harry groaned, dropping back onto the pillow. "Brilliant."
To their immense relief, the rest of the dormitory was empty—Dean, Seamus, and Neville had clearly already gone for a day. But that didn't stop Ron from pacing dramatically by the window.
"You overslept together," he muttered, aghast. "You slept in. What even is this?!"
"It's called a relationship," Ginny said sweetly, sitting up and stretching. "You should try it sometime."
Harry covered his face with a pillow.
The rest of the day was marked by a thick, uncomfortable silence from Ron.
Yesterday's relief had been short-lived. Harry had gone to bed feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But now, that peace had been replaced by a gnawing anxiety, heavy and awkward. Way to go, Potter, he thought bitterly. Bare your soul to your best mate and then thank him by getting caught in bed with his sister.
Not even doing anything. Just... sleeping. But of course, that part didn't matter.
Ron had refused to look at him all morning. Harry tried, more than once, to strike up a conversation, but every attempt was met with cold silence or a clenched jaw. And somehow, the silence was worse than if Ron had just yelled again.
Neville and Hermione, on the other hand, were having far too much fun.
When Harry finally gave in over lunch and whispered a reluctant explanation for Ron's sulking, both of them exchanged a look—and promptly burst into laughter.
"Honestly, Harry," Hermione giggled between bites of toast, "for someone who literally saved the school several times, you're completely hopeless at timing."
Neville was nearly choking on his pumpkin juice. "You overslept. That's just… I mean, impressive."
Harry sank lower in his seat, face burning. "Glad you're enjoying yourselves."
"At least Ron didn't hex you," Hermione added cheerfully.
"The day's still young," Harry muttered.
The only silver lining was that Ron's outraged discovery hadn't been overheard. The dormitory had been blessedly empty, with every other student already off to breakfast or class. Ginny had managed to sneak back to her room without being seen, and they'd both made it to their first lesson just in time—but the damage was done.
Harry's attempts to explain, to apologize, to insist that nothing happened beyond sleeping, had fallen on deaf ears. Ron refused to engage. He answered questions in class with clipped words, didn't sit next to Harry at meals, and even seemed to be avoiding Ginny entirely.
And Harry—who had faced dragons and dementors, who had stood in front of Voldemort and lived—found himself utterly defeated by the furious silence of his best friend.
At least the planned meeting with Theo helped distract Harry from the lingering guilt gnawing at him. During the day, he managed to slip the Slytherin a small parchment with an invitation: "After dinner. Barnabas the Barmy, 7th floor."
He figured the Room of Requirement, in the setting of a cozy living room, would be a much better environment than the cold hidden passage from the night before.
Ron was still pointedly ignoring both him and Ginny when they left the Great Hall separately. Harry resisted the urge to glance her way too often, but it was hard. They hadn't spoken all day—just exchanged a couple of quiet looks that said everything.
Theo was already waiting by the tapestry when Harry arrived, arms crossed and wearing a neutral mask that didn't quite hide his curiosity—or his nerves.
"So, this is the Room of Requirement?" he asked as Harry walked past him, opening the door that appeared in the wall. "I heard about it after those secret D.A. lessons last year, but I never got to see it for myself."
"Yeah, this is it. Pretty handy, actually," Harry replied, holding the door open for him. "We've spent most of our time in here this year."
The room had shaped itself into a softly lit sitting room, with deep armchairs and bookshelves along the walls. He sat down on the couch and gestured for Theo to do the same. The Slytherin hesitated for a second before joining him, his posture stiff, shoulders still tense with unease.
"We don't have an answer for you yet," Harry began, watching him closely, "but we do have more questions. Is that alright?"
Theo gave a small shrug at Harry's question, trying to hide his discomfort behind a mask of indifference. "Ask away," he said, though his fingers fidgeted slightly in his lap.
The door opened again, and Ginny slipped inside, her hair slightly windswept from the corridors. She didn't hesitate. She crossed the room, sat down beside Harry, and gave him a small, meaningful smile before turning to Theo.
"I assume you knew who I was before you made the offer," she said evenly, getting straight to the point. "You do realize I come from the biggest family of blood traitors, right?"
Theo didn't flinch, but his eyes flickered with something unreadable. "I know," he said simply. "That's not a problem."
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Not a problem? Bit surprising, coming from a Nott."
Theo sighed, leaning back slightly in the armchair, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a bit. "It's my grandfather who controls the trust. He's the one who decided I should be rewarded for staying on the 'right' path—whatever that means. He doesn't care about politics, not really. Not even about the Dark Lord. He only cares about bloodlines, reputation, and keeping the Nott name 'untainted.'"
"So, as long as you pretend you're wooing a pure-blood girl from a good lineage…" Harry started.
"He's satisfied," Theo finished with a grim smile. "Your family's politics might make him scowl, but the Weasleys are still one of the oldest pure-blood lines. That's all he cares about. The act of courting a pure-blood girl is symbolic. Proof that I'm still playing the game."
Ginny leaned forward, her arms resting on her knees. "Alright. So what would this whole 'courting' thing actually look like?"
Theo's gaze flicked between the two of them before answering, slowly and carefully, as if he'd already rehearsed it in his head a hundred times. "We'd be seen together occasionally. A few walks through the castle, maybe a couple of dates in Hogsmeade if they reopen the trips after the attacks in the village. I'd send you flowers now and then. Maybe chocolates—nothing too elaborate. And over the holidays… we'd have to exchange some letters. Just enough to keep the illusion going in case my grandfather checks in."
Ginny didn't respond at first, just watching him, weighing his words.
Theo's expression softened just a bit. "By January fifteenth, I'll turn seventeen. That's when I'm supposed to receive the key to my family vault. Once that's done, it's over. I'll break it off. Quietly. Maybe say we drifted apart, something like that."
"And you're sure that'll be enough?" Harry asked, still wary.
"I've thought this through," Theo said firmly. "My grandfather's old, isolated, and only interested in the bloodline continuing. As long as I show enough effort to make it look like I'm pursuing a suitable match, he won't dig deeper."
Ginny leaned back, exhaling slowly. "So basically… we'd be giving the castle something to gossip about, and in return, we'd all be safer."
"Exactly," Theo said. "People already talk. Let's make the story work for us."
"What about your father?" Harry asked, his voice low.
Theo let out a breath through his nose, something close to a bitter laugh. "He's not exactly… present. Even when we're under the same roof, it's like I don't exist. He wouldn't care who I was seeing—fake or real. I'm just a pawn to him. Something to parade when it suits him, and then throw into the fire when it's convenient. That's why the plan is to brand me a Death Eater the second I'm out of school."
Ginny's lips tightened, and Harry felt a familiar surge of anger bubbling in his chest. It wasn't pity—they knew better than to offer that—but the realization that even someone like Theo, who seemed calm and calculating, was carrying scars of his own. Heavy ones.
Harry turned to Ginny, and she was already looking at him. Their eyes locked in silent conversation, the way they'd grown used to in the past weeks. He could read her perfectly—her concern, her reluctance, her resolve.
They didn't need words. They were in.
Theo watched the exchange but said nothing. When Ginny finally nodded once, sharp and decisive, and Harry echoed the movement, the air in the room seemed to shift.
"Alright," Harry said. "We'll do it."
A flicker of relief passed across Theo's face, so subtle it might have been imagined. He gave a small nod of his own. "Thank you."
"We'll need to plan how to play this," Ginny added. "Nothing too dramatic. Just enough to keep people watching."
"We'll start tomorrow. Let's meet in the library after class—I'll start wooing you then, in front of as many eyes as possible," Theo agreed. "But you two—" he gave them a pointed look, "—might want to stop sneaking around quite so obviously. If I figured it out, others will too."
Harry groaned, and Ginny just smirked. "We'll work on it," she said, rising from the couch and brushing off her skirt.
Theo rose too, straightening his collar. "I'll leave first. Don't want to raise eyebrows."
He made for the door, then paused with his hand on the knob. Without turning around, he added, "For what it's worth… this means more to me than you think. Thanks."
And with that, he slipped out into the corridor, leaving Harry and Ginny alone in the cozy, flickering light of the Room of Requirement.
….
Harry and Ginny then tried to be much more careful about their appearances. They made sure to never walk together, not even with other people. Harry stopped watching her in public spaces fully, even when it was proving itself almost painful. Gone were the glances they were exchanging in corridors, the cute messages exchanged during meals forgotten.
The next day after classes Ginny made her way to library, curious what Theo will come up with.
Ginny had picked a table near the tall windows in the library's quieter corner, close enough to be noticed, but far enough that Madam Pince wouldn't shoo them away at the first sign of laughter. She'd arrived early on purpose, wanting a few moments to collect herself. She'd tucked a few open books around her for effect—Defense texts, a Herbology tome, and a small stack of spellwork theory volumes she didn't intend to read.
When the clock struck five past the hour, she heard him.
"Oh, thank Merlin," Theo's voice rang through the hush of the library like a theatrical sigh. "I feared the angel who's haunted my dreams had only been a fevered fantasy!"
Ginny looked up slowly, already biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. A few students turned to look, some giggling, others raising their eyebrows with interest.
Theo Nott was striding toward her with a bouquet of enchanted wildflowers floating behind him, trailing little motes of light and glittering dust. He bowed deeply—bowed—before dropping into the seat across from her.
"You're late," Ginny said with mock sternness, folding her arms. "And I told you to keep the dramatics mild."
"Darling, mild is for lukewarm soup," Theo said under his breath, handing her the flowers with a too-serious gaze that made the entire scene play like something out of a cheesy romance novel. "We're trying to sell this, remember?"
Ginny rolled her eyes but accepted the bouquet. "I'm going to hex you the moment this is over."
Theo just smirked, lowering his voice to a whisper as he leaned in. "You'd have to catch me first."
….
Meanwhile, Harry made his way to the unused classroom Remus had claimed for their training. It was quiet, the scent of old books and parchment hanging in the air, mixed with something familiar and comforting—Remus's presence, perhaps.
"Ready?" Remus asked gently, wand already in hand.
Harry nodded, slipping out his wand and squaring his shoulders.
They started slow—defensive spells, shielding techniques, and ways to disarm without harming. But soon the lesson shifted into dueling form, fast-paced and intense. Remus didn't go easy on him, but he was fair—offering tips in real time, correcting his stance, pushing him to react quicker, think sharper.
"You've improved," Remus said after Harry successfully blocked a tricky hex and responded with a stunning spell that hit its mark.
Harry was sweating and breathing hard, but there was a light in his eyes.
"I finally feel like I'm doing something useful," he admitted, lowering his wand.
Remus gave him a small, approving smile. "You are. And more importantly—you're learning how to survive."
They sat down for a few minutes at the end, drinking water and cooling off.
"You can't carry this all alone, Harry," Remus said quietly. "Let people help you."
"I am," Harry answered, surprising himself. "I'm trying."
And for once, he meant it.
….
The Gryffindor Common Room was warm with firelight when Harry stepped through the portrait hole that evening. He scanned the room quickly—Ron was there, slouched in one of the armchairs, arms crossed, still wearing the same thunderous expression he'd had all day. Hermione was beside him, deeply buried in a book, and Neville sat nearby, absently scribbling something in a notepad.
Harry hesitated. He'd hoped Ron would've cooled off by now, but clearly, the silence treatment was still going strong.
Well… enough was enough.
"Oi, Ron," Harry said, walking up and jamming his hands in his pockets. "Come with me for a bit. There's something I want to say."
Hermione looked up, brows raised, sensing the tension. Ron, after a long pause, stood up without a word—whether out of curiosity or because Hermione gave him a subtle nudge, Harry couldn't say. But Ron followed him from the Common Room up the stairs to their dormitory, and that was a start.
They closed the door behind them and Ron sat down on a bed, watching Harry with raised eyebrow.
Harry cleared his throat and stayed standing, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"Right. So… this is weird. But I didn't want to keep dancing around it." He looked straight at Ron, whose face was stony but attentive.
"I know you're mad. And honestly… I get it. If I had a sister and found her in someone's bed—even if nothing happened—I'd probably lose it too."
Ron's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't speak.
Harry pressed on. "But that's the thing. Nothing did happen. We were just talking. We fell asleep. That's it. No sneaking around with bad intentions, no breaking rules just for fun. I care about Ginny. A lot. In fact, I'm pretty sure I love her."
Harry walked across the room and sat down on his own bed. Ron was watching him, his face softening—Harry had never admitted the depth of his feelings in front of any of his friends before, and this revelation calmed Ron down a bit.
"What I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry that our relationship makes you uncomfortable, and I'm sorry you had to find us like that yesterday. But I'm not sorry it happened. Ginny's been the biggest moral support I've ever had, and sometimes one of us needs more comfort than our secret relationship can offer during the day. So yeah, sometimes she sleeps here next to me. But—and I promise you this—I'm not planning on shagging her. Not now, not here, definitely not with her brother in the same room."
Ron smiled a little. "That would be… appreciated, thank you. It's just… sometimes I have trouble seeing that Ginny isn't a small girl anymore. Seeing her with you like that was… really weird. And I do realize I turned into an overprotective git, but it's probably in my nature. So… I'm sorry too. But please, don't let me ever catch you like that again."
The door opened just then, and Ginny slipped inside with Neville and Hermione in tow. "Let you catch us doing what, exactly?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
Ron stiffened immediately, his brief moment of calm clearly vanished. "Sleeping in his bed, that's what."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, come off it, Ron. Nothing happened and you know it. You're just being dramatic."
"I saw you!" Ron snapped, standing again. "How am I supposed to pretend like that's normal?"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, it's not like we were doing anything indecent," Ginny shot back. "Honestly, you'd think you'd never seen two people sleep next to each other fully clothed before."
Ron's ears turned red. "I shouldn't have to see that! You're my little sister!"
Ginny crossed her arms. "And you're not Dad, Ron. You don't get to police where I sleep. Or with whom."
Neville shifted awkwardly and Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again. Harry looked between the siblings helplessly, wishing he could disappear.
Ron scoffed. "This isn't about policing anything, it's about having basic respect—"
"Oh, don't even try that," Ginny cut in, her voice sharp now. "You're not mad because of 'respect.' You're mad because you've never snogged anyone and it drives you mad that I have."
The room went dead silent. Ron's mouth opened, then closed like a fish gasping for air.
Hermione's eyes widened. "Ginny…"
Ginny didn't flinch. "Sorry, but it's true. You've been weird about me dating since I was twelve. It's time to grow up, Ron. I'm not your responsibility. And Harry is not the enemy here."
Ron turned a deeper shade of crimson, fists clenched at his sides, breathing hard. "That is not what this is about," he said, but the defensive tone gave him away.
Ginny's expression softened a bit. "Then stop acting like it is."
With that, Ron stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Harry looked at Ginny, exhausted. "You didn't have to say that. We were fine by the time you came in."
"No, Harry, I needed to say it," Ginny replied firmly. "Ron keeps acting like he supports us, but then he teases you or gives you the silent treatment the moment we spend any time alone together. I had to put a stop to it before that attitude becomes permanent. We're not doing anything wrong, and it's not up to Ron to judge us."
She walked across the room and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck.
"Or did you enjoy Ron's comments after every date? I only heard half of them, and they made me uncomfortable—I can't even imagine how they made you feel."
Harry had to admit she had a point. Ron's remarks had become increasingly grating, especially the way he dropped them casually in front of others. He gave her a small smile and kissed her gently.
"I have to say, Ron was being kind of a git about you two," said Neville, still standing with Hermione, who looked torn between staying or going after Ron.
"He'll get over it," Ginny said with a shrug, sitting down on Harry's bed. Hermione and Neville exchanged a look, silently questioning whether to give the couple some privacy.
"No, stay, please," Harry said quickly. "We don't need another rumor—don't leave us here alone for someone to walk in on."
They both sat down on Ron's bed as Ginny launched into her story about the fake date with Theo.
"I never expected Theo to be such a flirt. He's got some serious game, I have to say," Ginny said with a laugh. "He was really theatrical. I'm sure half the school's talking about us already. He's even planning to send me a love letter tomorrow."
Harry watched her, smiling. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Well… yeah. I didn't expect to, but Theo's a lot of fun. I think this fake dating might not be such a bother after all."
Neville snorted. "Only you two could pull off hiding a real relationship by pretending to be in a fake one with someone else."
"Don't jinx it," Harry muttered, though he was still smiling.
Hermione finally relaxed, crossing her arms. "Just… be careful. You're playing with a delicate balance here. If someone figures out the truth and tells the wrong people—"
"We know," Ginny cut in gently. "That's why we're being careful. But I'm not hiding in the shadows just because Ron can't handle seeing me grow up."
There was a quiet moment. Then Neville clapped his hands once. "Well, this is turning into quite the drama. Honestly, I'm just glad I'm not the one fake-dating a Slytherin or snogging someone's sister."
Everyone laughed—even Hermione, finally.
The tension in the dormitory finally dissolved into something warmer—laughter, teasing, a sense of relief. Even Harry felt lighter, as if a heavy knot in his chest had loosened just a little.
"Alright," Ginny said eventually, stretching as she stood. "Maybe it's time we go find Ron and fix things properly."
Hermione gave her a doubtful look. "You sure that's a good idea? He might need a little time."
"Yeah, well," Harry said, getting up too, "better now than letting him stew in it all night. Maybe if we just talk to him calmly…"
Neville shrugged. "Or we'll walk right into another storm. But hey, I'm curious to see how this saga ends."
With a bit more optimism than they probably should've had, the four of them filed out of the dormitory and down the staircase into the Gryffindor common room.
And then they froze.
There, right in front of the fireplace, Ron Weasley was sitting on the couch—with Lavender Brown practically on top of him. They were snogging like they hadn't come up for air in minutes. His hands were tangled in her curls, her arms locked tightly around his neck, and the enthusiasm they were showing left little to the imagination.
"Oh," Hermione said flatly, blinking.
"Oh wow," Ginny muttered, raising an eyebrow. "He works fast."
Neville coughed awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the couch. "Do we… uh… leave? Or wait until they notice we're here?"
But his question was interrupted by Hermione, who turned on her heel and all but ran toward the girls' dormitories, her face hidden behind her hand. Ginny glanced at Harry and, with a silent apology, went after her.
The boys exchanged another awkward look before turning around and heading back the way they came.
Neville was muttering something under his breath, and Harry thought it sounded miraculously close to, "Great. Another drama. Just what we needed."