It's The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter! by romulus lupin

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 28/06/2004
Last Updated: 28/06/2004
Status: Completed

Professor McGonagall enters the Gryffindor Common Room to a sight that can set anyone’s heart
a-flutter, or turn one’s mind to carnal thoughts. But what is she doing in the Common Room in the
first place – and on the day after Halloween? This is one of my earliest fanfics which I had almost
totally forgotten about, until a gentle reminder from briarswt made me look at it again. I'm
re-posting this at portkey; I hope you guys enjoy!




1. The Day After ...
--------------------

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

**Title:** It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (01)


**Author name:** Romulus Lupin

**Author email:** galigad@yahoo.com

**Category:** Romance


**Sub Category:** Angst


**Keywords:** H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two


**Rating:** PG-13


**Spoilers:**SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF


**Summary:** Professor McGonagall enters the Gryffindor Common Room to a sight that can set
anyone’s heart a-flutter, or turn one’s mind to carnal thoughts. But what is she doing in the
Common Room in the first place – and on the day after Halloween?


**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS
characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is
the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

**Author notes:** Dedicated to briarswt, who has helped resurrect this story from the crowded
depths of my befuddled mind. :D

This was originally posted in the Astronomy Tower in October 2002, when I was a mere newbie in
the fandom, and porkey.org was still a glimmer in the eyes of Nappa, Heaven and James. I never did
bother to post this here mainly because I never did think of it as being either at par with my
later fics; at the same time, I never could think of it as being at the same level as the other
wonderful stories from so many talented authors who inhabit PK.

Imagine my surprise, therefore, when I saw this on the Fic Rec threads – and learned that the
story was the subject of a fic-hunt started by briarswt, to which tonti quickly responded.

Major glomps to both of you, and to the wonderful Super-Mod, pen (gal-txtr).

I am posting the fic mostly as is; keep in mind, however, that this was posted months before
OotP came out.

Chapter One: The Day After …

It was a sight that would set anyone’s heart a-flutter – and even a nun’s mind to carnal
thoughts.

It certainly had that effect on Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of
Magic and Witchcraft, and head of Gryffindor House.

The Gryffindor Common Room looked like a tornado had passed through it – either that, or the
house-elves had not had a chance to clean it up. This was rather likely – since the Common Room was
not as empty as one would have initially supposed it to be.

She could see two very familiar heads over the top of the couch that was facing the common
room’s main fireplace. A brown-haired head was resting on the shoulder of a black-haired boy whose
unruly hair was standing up in all directions – it was apparent from their positions that the girl
was sitting on his lap, and they had both fallen asleep that way, entwined in each other’s arms …
and Professor McGonagall got the sudden, irreverent thought that they’d fallen asleep while
brushing each other’s hair with their fingers.

She smiled -- a small smile to be sure, but a smile nevertheless – an action that would have
caused the mouths of at least half the students in Hogwarts, and probably half the wizards and
witches of Britain to drop open in shock.

Such a thought, however, never even entered her head – what she actually thought was that it was
high time that the sight before her happened. She’d been watching the two with affection ever since
their first year at Hogwarts (and an incident involving a troll, a bathroom and Halloween), and was
happy that they had taken the next step in their relationship.

She was happy for them.

She heard a soft giggle from the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitories. Putting on her
accustomed mask of sternness and hauteur, she turned her unsmiling eyes towards that area, but
caught only the merest flash of red athletic pants as whomever it was scampered out of the way.

A sudden flash of intuition told her that it was probably Cindy, a first-year Gryffindor who,
with her best friend Carolyn, were present – or had instigated – the only time in recorded history
that Professor Severus Snape ever cracked a joke – or a smile.

The story went that the two (along with the other first years) were leaving their
Transfiguration classes when Carolyn or Cindy (it was never established which one) had blurted out,
“I think Professor McGonagall’s a virgin. You know, ‘Never Been Kissed, Never Been Touched’?”

None of them had noticed the tall, greasy-haired figure in a billowing black robe, who was
walking swiftly, and silently, behind them. As he passed the students, however, they heard him say,
“That’s what you think!”

The group had been so shocked that they froze in their places. Snape, his robes still billowing
about him as he passed, had also paused – and looking straight at the two young Gryffindors, given
them a wink before moving on.

The story had flown around the castle within minutes … no one, not even the Slytherins, believed
it. None had the courage to approach Professor Snape to ask if the story were true … although the
Weasley Twins had tried to gather enough money to bribe the Terrible Two (as they were now being
called) to ask Professor McGonagall to settle the issue of her virginity.

The two had flatly refused, pointing out that life as a pair of pincushions was no fun, and then
turning the tables by telling the Twins that they should ask Harry to do it for them. When asked
what Harry had to do with it, it was Carolyn (the then-perceived to be quiet as a mouse half of the
duo, compared to Cindy the Whirlwind) who pointed out that *Harry* was obviously McGonagall’s
favorite, next to Hermione Granger.

Professor McGonagall successfully stifled a laugh that threatened to pass her lips – laughing
would have guaranteed heart attacks from half the student population of Hogwarts. Truth be told,
she thought to herself, the reverse was true – it was Harry Potter who was her favorite student,
something that would have guaranteed an epileptic attack to the brilliant, exceptional teacher’s
pet, Hermione Granger.

And as for the *other* thing, she smirked to herself. “That’s for me to know, and for them
to find out,” she thought. “Besides, it was something only *I* and … someone else … would
know.”

She turned away from the scene before her to compose herself. Much as she hated to disturb the
idyllic, and undoubtedly romantic (though clichéd) view in front of her, she still had her duties
to perform. Some one (or some *ones*, she amended herself) was responsible for the greatest
piece of Halloween mischief since the days of the legendary Marauders – and she was bent on finding
out who … even if it meant losing the House Cup that year.

She turned back to the two people on the couch, and suddenly froze, silenced before she could
even speak a word – and she didn’t know whether to Disapparate or run for the nearest shower!

Harry Potter was awake and had started planting small, feathery kisses all over Hermione’s
forehead. The latter slowly woke up, a smile lighting up her face. She reached up and grabbed the
other’s head and their lips met in a long, deep, soul-searching kiss when she noticed Professor
McGonagall standing behind them.

With a muffled shriek, Hermione tore her lips from Harry and scrambled to her feet as he,
surprised at her sudden move, fumbled around for his glasses. As the two finally got thoughts and
themselves together, Professor McGonagall’s eyes followed their every move – and she breathed out a
huge sigh of relief as she saw that neither one was fumbling too much with their clothing.

“So, they’ve been snogging the night away,” she thought as she valiantly fought down the laugh
threatening to break out of her. “Good … it’s been a long time in coming.”

She kept her face calm and impassive, in the manner that all students, especially *these*
two, expected from her. Although she did want to disappear into the nearest hole, she *had* to
stand there, and watch Hermione’s face as she tried to think up a reasonable excuse, defense, or
explanation for what they had just been doing.

Taking pity on her favorite students (although she would have cheerfully threatened to cut off
her own tongue before admitting that Potter was her favorite), she spoke out in her patented,
icy-cold voice that *always* sent shivers down students’ backs: “*Mister* Potter.
*Miss* Granger. I want you to get *all* the Gryffindors down here right *now*.”

“Professor?” Hermione squeaked, accompanied by a puzzled look on the part of Harry Potter.

“*Now*, Miss Granger.” The two bolted for their respective dormitories, unwilling to face
that wrathful presence any longer. When they were gone, McGonagall’s eyes scanned the room once
again – and suddenly stopped at the sight of a large Halloween pumpkin floating on the floor in
front of the fireplace, a fairy or two within giving off an eerie light that shone out through its
carved eyes, nose and mouth – as well as a lightning-shaped scar on its “forehead.”



2. Remembrance of Halloweens Past
---------------------------------

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

**Title:** It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (02)


**Author name:** Romulus Lupin

**Author email:** galigad@yahoo.com

**Category:** Romance


**Sub Category:** Angst


**Keywords:** H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two


**Rating:** PG-13


**Spoilers:**SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF


**Summary:** Why is the Fat lady absent from her portrait this Halloween night? And why
should Ginny be wandering the castle without seeing where she is going? Why is Hermione comparing
Harry to Linus? And why is Harry comparing her to Linus’ blanket?


**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS
characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is
the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Two: Remembrance of Halloweens Past …

*Hogwarts Castle Corridors
6:00 in the evening (Halloween)*

Ginny Weasley silently led the first-year Gryffindors along the myriad corridors and staircases
of Hogwarts Castle, heading for the Great Hall and the traditional Halloween feast. She was walking
on auto-pilot, trusting to the knowledge burned into her from four years of wandering the corridors
to bring them safely – and speedily – to their destination.

Ordinarily, the job of escorting the first years would have fallen to the House Prefects – in
this case, to Gryffindor Prefects Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Harry, however, was still on
the Quidditch pitch, practicing – their first game (as usual, against Slytherin) was coming up in a
few weeks. Hermione, on the other hand, was working on a special project with Professor Flitwick,
and had been running late. She was still in the library doing research, and had practically begged
Ginny to fetch the first-years from their dorms and make sure that they all arrived at the Great
Hall in time for the feast.

Ginny smiled, sadly. She knew that Hermione had another reason for asking her to escort the
first years to the feast, a reason that her friend thought she could hide from the world …

“Is there anything wrong, Hermione?” she’d asked gently, as they sat together in the
library.

She watched as Hermione gave a guilty start, as if she’d been poked in the side with a hot
needle, but she knew that she would not receive an answer as a determined look dropped like a mask
over the other’s face.

She sighed. Ginny had become closer to Hermione over the years, although admittedly, they had
never been as close as Harry was to Hermione. Still, there were some things that girls cannot hide
from each other – and Ginny *knew* what Hermione’s problem was.

Hermione had fallen in love with her best friend.

Ginny could pinpoint the *exact* moment she realized that Hermione was in love: at the
conclusion of the Second Task of the Tri-Wizard tournament. She had been standing beside Percy,
getting more and more agitated, when the hour had passed for the champions to return – and Harry
had not yet shown up with Ron.

She had been beside herself with worry, torn with the fear of losing her brother – or losing
*both* Harry and her brother. She’d watched as Viktor Krum dragged a still-sleeping Hermione
up the bank, transfiguring himself back into human form, the two of them being wrapped tightly in
blankets and forcibly fed Pepper-Up potion by Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse.

She’d felt a stab of jealousy at the sight – Viktor Krum, star Seeker of the Bulgarian National
Quidditch Team, Durmstrang Champion, had thought highly enough of Hermione to think of her as the
“one he will miss the most” … while Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the person she’d had a crush
on since she was little, and (most importantly) the person who saved her life in her first year at
Hogwarts, thought that her *brother* was the one he missed the most.

It was only her worry for Ron (and yes, she admitted to herself, for Harry) that kept her rooted
to her spot beside Percy. While she kept an anxious lookout on the lake, she kept stealing envious
glances at Hermione and Krum – and a shock of surprise ran through her when she saw Hermione
keeping the same anxious lookout, totally ignoring every attempt by Krum to talk to her.

Hermione looked as if she was ready to throw off her blankets and head back for the lake
herself, if it were not for the heavy hand that Madame Pomfrey had kept on her the whole time.
Hermione’s fear and concern mirrored her own – and Ginny felt a warm glow in her heart at
Hermione’s obvious concern for the welfare of her brother, in spite of the blazing row they’d had
the night of the Yule Ball.

She felt like someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water over her when the first words that
Hermione said when Harry emerged from the lake with Ron and the French champion’s little sister
was, “*Harry, well done! You did it, you found out how all by yourself!*”

She’d watched in utter amazement as Krum tried desperately to draw Hermione’s attention back to
himself, and all that Hermione would say was, “*You’re well outside the time limit, though, Harry
... Did it take you ages to find us?*”

Harry Potter, the prat, had answered Hermione automatically – apparently, he did not even notice
that Hermione was trying to cover up the fear, panic, and apprehension she had gone through as she
waited for Harry to emerge from the lake.

On the other hand, it seemed that Harry did not share the same sentiment He continued treating
Hermione the same way he’d been treating her through the whole five years of their friendship – as
his best friend, along with her brother.

“*Boys!*” Ginny thought with a sigh. They can be total prats, to say nothing of dense …
thick … dim … *stupid* … Harry ignoring, not even acknowledging, all that Hermione had done
for him – and totally missing the fact that his best “friend” was in love with him. And Ron,
totally oblivious of the fact that there was *no way* that he and Hermione will *ever*
get together … they were just two totally different people. Their relationship was a major
personality clash – the only thing keeping them together was Harry Potter.

Ginny lurched to a sudden stop as the thought hit her, totally unmindful that the whole group
had stopped along with her, puzzled at her action. Was *that* the real problem, she wondered?
Harry and Hermione together formed a cohesive whole – with no place for a Ron in their lives; Ron
and Hermione, on the other hand, would still have a place for Harry in *their* lives.

Except that Hermione was already in love with Harry.

Which meant that there would be *no place* for her brother in their lives.

Her boiling thoughts were interrupted, however, by a shy voice breaking into her consciousness,
“Ummm … Ginny? Is there something wrong?” Startled, she looked at Ca (who had asked everyone to
call her that, to avoid confusion with another Caroline in second year as well as with the Fat
Lady) who was looking at her with concern.

Before she could respond, Cindy the Whirlwind stepped in, “Is this the shortest way to the Great
Hall?”

Surprised, Ginny looked around and realized that they were in a vaguely unfamiliar part of the
castle. She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she must have missed a turn, or the
corridors had shifted, or the stairways had moved … with a sigh of exasperation, she led the group
in another direction which, she *hoped*, would lead back to the Great Hall.

There was something vaguely *disquieting* about this corridor, Ginny thought. Luckily, Sir
Nicholas, Gryffindor Tower’s resident ghost, popped out of a wall, and asked, in a reproving tone
of voice, “Lost, are we, Virginia Weasley?”

Before Ginny could reply, she heard Ca, who had wandered off a bit, asking, “What’s this?” as
she pointed to a wall.

The others looked to where she was pointing, seeing nothing but a wall with faded writing on it.
As they approached, they could just barely make out the words “chamber,” “opened,” and “beware.”
The younger Gryffindors looked at it curiously, unsure of what the words meant – when Sir Nicholas
called out in a shaken voice, “Children! Children, come on … you don’t want to miss the Halloween
feast, do you?”

As the group started walking away, Sir Nicholas hovered beside a tense Ginny, who was trying to
control herself as she fled that particular corridor. The ghost touched her arm, which sent a
shiver down her spine, and she looked up at Sir Nicholas. She gave him a small nod, smiled – and
walked to the front of the group to lead them to the Hall.

Four years before, the words were newly painted in foot-high letters:

“**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.**”

* * *

*First Floor Girl’s Bathroom
Hogwarts' Castle
6:15 that evening (Halloween)*

Hermione Granger was running down the hallways towards the Great Hall, reprimanding herself for
running late. She’d asked Ginny to escort the Gryffindor first-years, so she could concentrate on
her project for Professor Flitwick – something she had to give up in defeat an hour before, since
her mind was not on her work.

She sighed in irritation. She’d been delighted at being named a Prefect (despite all the teasing
she got from Ron) but she hadn’t counted on her duties eating into the quality time she spent with
her best friend.

*That* thought had been enough to chase away any thoughts of schoolwork, special projects,
prefect duties and even You-Know-Who out of her mind for the past hour.

She’d spent most of that hour with a singular litany in her mind: “Why should I be thinking that
way?” she asked herself. “The *three* of us are *friends* … *friends …
**friends!***”

Which had always been accompanied by a peculiar response: “Ron Weasley is a *friend* …
Harry Potter is … is …” She kept refusing to fill in the final blank, simply because she wasn’t
sure what the answer was.

Or rather, she was not sure what Harry’s answer was.

Best friends, of course.

But that was what Harry said.

She was not sure of what Harry *thought*.

She sighed to herself. If there was one thing that she knew, it was the fact that what Harry
said was often far different from what he actually thought. Certainly it was the result of his
early life with the Dursleys, when he wasn’t allowed to have an original thought and where, to make
life easier for him (though it did not succeed as well as it should have), he’d consciously
separated what he *said* to them from what he *thought* about them.

She’d paused for a few minutes, to let her rage at that incomparable family boil off … if it
hadn’t been for the restrictions that Professor Dumbledore had placed on Harry during the summers,
she’d have brought him home herself, rather than allowing him to spend even *one* day with the
Dursleys.

She finally brought her mind back to the question confronting her: what was Harry Potter to her?
And, by extension, how did this affect her relationship with Ronald Weasley, the third half of
their Trio, the third member of the Dream Team?

And she kept coming back to the litany and its counterpoint: Ron was her friend … Harry was her
… her …

‘All *right*!’ she thought angrily. ‘Let’s approach this from another direction. If there
was no Harry Potter in my life right now … I’d probably be in the library or in the Prefect’s
bathroom, crying my eyes out, wondering what in hell I’m doing in Gryffindor instead of in
Ravenclaw … which wouldn’t be that much of a life, anyway.’

She considered that thought, and shuddered. No matter Ravenclaw’s reputation as the House of the
Learned, they were still people – and the enviousness and pettiness that marked others were just as
present among the Ravenclaws, and perhaps, even more. She remembered Padma Patil, Parvati’s twin,
crying in the library numerous times in their first year as she tried to cope with the vicious
infighting among her housemates as they strove to excel academically.

Maybe that’s why Cho Chang is such a good Seeker, she thought. She’s found something to excel
in, outside of academics – something to build her own identity upon.

She cut that train of thought, and pondered the question of what her life would be without Ron
in her life … I’ll probably be in the same boat. Still Harry’s friend … still Harry’s faithful
Indian companion … or probably more.

It would still be Harry and her … for the first year or so. By which time, we’d probably be
driving each other *mad* … Harry, experiencing for the first time a life without the Dursleys,
would have wanted to enjoy every minute of his life at Hogwarts while she, on the other hand, would
have wanted to study every minute she had.

The problem was, she reflected, that without Ron backing him, Harry would not have been
confident enough in his first year at Hogwarts to take the kind of chances he did … he’d probably
not have gone after Malfoy and Neville’s Rememberall during their flying lesson (she remembered
with a smile telling him off before he flew off after Malfoy), which meant he’d probably not be the
youngest Seeker in a century … probably not sneaked out for that midnight duel with Malfoy which
led them to the third floor and Fluffy …

Which probably meant that You-Know-Who would have been resurrected in their first year – and
there would have been no Harry Potter in her fifth year at Hogwarts. He’d probably be *dead*
by now … and she would be living a life as close to death as possible, having no Harry Potter in
*her* life.

She pushed those morbid thoughts out of her mind, and refocused on the crux of her internal
discussion. If there had been no Harry Potter in her life … if there had been no Ron Weasley in
*their* lives …

She’d probably have no life.

She sighed. The truth was … they’d *both* needed a Ron Weasley in their lives. He provided
the balance that Harry and she needed in their first years at Hogwarts – someone to guide Harry
during his first tentative steps in the wizarding world, and someone to pull her away from books,
the library, and the *rules* …

But things were changing. They’d started changing last year, when that stupid prat had the
temerity to doubt Harry’s word about the Goblet of Fire … or perhaps the change had started in
third year when he’d assumed that Crookshanks had eaten his stupid rat … or in second year when she
had run into the Great Hall screaming, “*You solved it, you solved it!*” right into Harry’s
arms … or maybe …

This was getting her nowhere.

The fact remained – she felt whole and complete with Harry Potter in her life … she could live
without a Ron Weasley in her life … but times were better when both boys were in her life.

The problem was … she’d fallen in love with one of them.

So, the question becomes, where does that leave the other?

She snorted. Before she could even ask those questions, she needed an answer from the one she
loved. Was the feeling mutual, or were her feelings hers alone?

She wondered again, for the thousandth time, *how* it had happened … and she knew that she
had no real answer for the how … or even the why … or even the when. It always felt like it was
there the whole time … ever since the two boys had rescued her from the troll …

Arrrgggh! This was aggravating! She was back on the same merry-go-round … no real solutions,
except for that singular resolution: she felt whole and complete with Harry in her life … she could
live without a Ron in her life … but her life was definitely more complete with *both* in her
life: Harry beside her, Ron somewhere in the orbit of *both* their lives.

But **not** the other way around.

She looked at her watch and was surprised – an hour had passed? And she hadn’t gotten any work
done? No matter … Professor Flitwick wasn’t expecting anything from her for two weeks, anyway.
She’d have time to work this out tomorrow … if only she can resolve the problem facing her … she
sighed.

She did not have any answers. Those will have to come from Harry and Ron: Harry, in terms of his
feelings for her; Ron, with regard to how he will deal with the changed situation.

She’d better hurry.

With that, she packed up her things, and dashed out of the library. On the way, she realized
that she needed to freshen up … but the Prefect’s bathroom was too far away … never mind, there’s a
girl’s bathroom somewhere here …

While she was washing her face, a feeling of unease suddenly hit her. She stared at her face in
the mirror, wondering where that feeling was coming from … she stared at the sink in front of her,
and noticed infinitesimal cracks all over it … she suddenly walked towards one of the stalls, and
saw cracks a few feet above the floor … and she *knew*.

She burst out of the bathroom at a run, shocking several passing students, and almost hitting
two girls in the face as she swung the door open. She didn’t apologize to anyone, almost running
away … ignoring the stares of the students who’d seen her leaving the bathroom.

Five years ago, in that same bathroom, *on this same day*, was the start of her life and
adventures with The Boy Who Lived.

***

*The Fat Lady’s Portrait
Gryffindor Tower
6:20 p.m. (Halloween)*

Ron Weasley was running late, but he wasn’t that bothered about it. For one thing, he thought,
he was not a Prefect, although his best friends were … and he was happy about it – he didn’t know
how he could keep his life organized between Prefect duties, Quidditch practice (he was now the
House Keeper, ‘lord, how he *hated* that term!’), and studies … with Hermione constantly on
*his* back to study for their O.W.L.s, even though the O.W.L.s were months away…

All in all, he was happy … content … satisfied with his life.

Except for one thing.

There was a subtle undercurrent in his relationship with his best friends … there was something
… different about it these days … and he, for the life of him, couldn’t put his finger on what that
was.

He’d first noticed it in Harry, during the summer he’d spent with Ron at The Burrow. Harry had
been … withdrawn, was the best way to describe him when he re-joined the family … more quiet …
somehow, more watchful of what was going on about him …

Serious.

That was the word he needed. The Harry he remembered would have been ecstatic on reaching the
Burrow, being able to escape the Dursleys for a few weeks before the start of classes. He’d have
been great fun … playing Quidditch with the brothers in their paddock … joining them as they
de-gnomed the garden … chatting with his Dad about Muggle ways and appliances …

The Harry of last summer was *serious*. He joined them at Quidditch, but it was apparent
that his mind was elsewhere … he’d de-gnomed the garden when invited – but he threw the gnomes with
a force that was unnatural for him (he used to be rather gentle with the gnomes, only resorting to
brute force when attacked) … and, the real shocker came when he expressed an interest in Ginny’s
*Arithmancy* studies!

Ginny had been happy about it, of course – it meant more time for her to be with Harry, but even
that ecstasy had been short-lived. She’d admitted to Ron that Harry was really interested in her
lectures and notes on Arithmancy (she’d had a grand time explaining things to him) … but she felt
that his mind was not there all the time.

Which was rather an aggravation to her.

Or was it?

Thinking back, Ginny wasn’t irritated with Harry’s lack of attention to her … she’d actually
been concerned about it, but more in terms of Harry’s well-being, rather than his inattention to
her femininity.

Ron, like the rest of the family, had put it down to the trauma of the Tri-Wizard tournament …
Molly Weasley had warned them all **not** to mention what had happened, unless Harry wanted to
talk about it … he’d assumed that Harry was still carrying around some burden of guilt because of
Cedric’s death and the resurrection of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named …

But that wasn’t all of it.

There was something in the way that Harry kept glancing out the window every time they sat down
to breakfast; as if he was waiting for something to come crashing in … again, everyone had assumed
that it was the trauma of Voldemort’s return … but Ron realized something else was happening.

Harry was waiting for Hermione.

He didn’t know when he’d first realized it … afterwards, he kept wondering how he’d missed
it.

Was it when he realized that the look on Harry’s face every morning was not one of relief at
having gone through another night without nightmares – but a look of disappointment that there was
no letter from Hermione?

Maybe he was still shaken at Harry’s seriousness when he arrived that he’d missed the meaning
behind Harry’s statement, when he was wondering if Hermione was enjoying her time in Bulgaria with
Vicky: “She didn’t go to Bulgaria. She’s in France with her parents.”

Did he misread the look of joy on Harry’s face the day Hedwig arrived with a letter from
Hermione, telling them that she was arriving at The Burrow the following day? Harry had quickly
hidden that look from them … in fact, it was so fleeting that even Ron wasn’t sure if he’d seen it
– and had soon forgotten about it.

Or maybe it was because of his excitement when Hermione arrived that he’d missed the different
way they’d greeted each other? He’d been literally bouncing the whole morning, waiting for Hermione
to arrive and complete their Trio … Harry, on the other hand, had been quiet and pensive … which
he’d ascribed (as usual) to the trauma of their fourth year.

He’d literally grabbed and swung Hermione around when she’d arrived at The Burrow, happy and
exuberant at having the Dream Team complete once again. Harry, however, had hung back … watching
from the sidelines, as it were. When he put her down, they’d simply looked at each other for a long
moment … and then they’d stepped forward at the same time … and then, they were hugging each other
tightly.

He’d been too busy picking up Hermione’s luggage (and trying to avoid Crookshanks’ claws) that
he barely heard what they were murmuring to each other. Even now, he couldn’t be sure if he heard
correctly: “Welcome home, Hermione,” while she was simply saying, “You’re all right, Harry … I was
so worried.”

They’d broken apart before he could complain about being left with the luggage … the days that
followed were quiet and idyllic, the old team was back in place and functioning … but even then,
there was something different.

Like the almost daily walks the two would take in the evenings or early mornings. He’d assumed
at first that they went out to meet with Sirius (who was still a fugitive, even though Arthur and
Molly knew the real story by now). He’d confronted Harry about this one time before they went to
sleep – Harry merely looked at him and told him that he just wanted to take a walk, and that
Hermione was kind enough to join him.

He’d asked what they’d talked about – and Harry said, “Nothing. We just walked.”

He joined them the next day, and found that they talked about … nothing. They were just walking
… he’d tried to be as quiet as they were, but found it difficult. He’d ended up chattering away,
and the two alternately laughing or commenting to him, but not really talking to each other.

But they’d known where they were going … turning left or right at some signal he never caught …
deciding it was time to start walking back without either one mentioning it … it was annoying. The
strange thing was … he never felt they were hiding anything from him. They were just … walking.

He never joined their walks again.

The day the school owls arrived with their letters was another such shocking day. Hermione had
opened hers, and squealed with delight on seeing the Prefect badge that everyone expected her to
receive. He’d started teasing her, as had the twins … and he started teasing Harry about not
teasing her … only to fall back in shock as Harry showed all of them his Prefect’s badge.

Hermione had jumped into Harry’s arms and hugged him at that. He’d congratulated Harry, of
course, along with a few choice comments about abandoning him … and, though Harry was laughing,
there was … something … which continued over the past three months.

They were both acting like prats, especially when *he* was around.

*That* stopped him, a few feet from the Fat Lady’s portrait. They were acting like total
prats … was it because they felt they were abandoning **him**?

He knew he could be a stupid, dumb, insensitive git, as his behavior last year had shown anyone,
blind or not -- he didn’t need Ginny, the Twins or even Hermione to tell him that.

He didn’t have to be smart, bright or considerate to know that Harry was in love with Hermione.
The summer at the Burrow made it obvious.

As was the fact that Hermione was in love with Harry. He could see how she acted – the one time
he joined their walk was enough proof of that. They’d been acting like his Mum and Dad – no need
for words to communicate what they wanted to do, the looks they exchanged … their hug when they saw
each other again...

They were in love with each other.

It was as obvious as the trees that surrounded the Burrow.

So, where did that leave *him*?

If there was one thing that the past two years made obvious … it was that he could live a life
without Harry or Hermione. He’d drawn away from Hermione in their third year when he thought
Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers … and he’d pulled away from Harry last year when the Goblet of Fire
made Harry a Hogwarts Champion.

He was able to live a life without either one … granted, he felt incomplete, but he knew that if
he’d worked at it, he would still be the same Ron Weasley. Maybe he wouldn’t have the grades he had
now (for which he will always be eternally grateful to Hermione) or he would not be as well known
as Harry Potter (being the best friend of The-Boy-Who-Lived was better than being “just another
Weasley.”)

But he would still be Ronald Weasley. Youngest male member of the Weasley clan. Current
Gryffindor Quidditch Keeper. Co-founder of *EWWW!* (“*Every Woman Wants A Weasley!”*). An
average – or *above* – average wizard with red hair.

Without Harry Potter … he would be just another Gryffindor with red hair. Still, all things
considered, it was not a bad life. There were other Gryffindors he could hang out with, study with
… have *fun* with. Granted, there wouldn’t have been the kind of adventures that he’d had with
Harry … but it would have been a safer, more boring life…

Without Hermione Granger … he snickered to himself. He’d probably have a more relaxed life. A
lot of people found their constant bickering cute … only the three of them knew how much it took
away from them. The day he found a know-it-all bookworm who didn’t make him want to start arguing,
he’d up and *marry* the girl … unfortunately, that was not Hermione. Thank god for Harry, who
had more patience and understanding in his little finger than he ever had … but then, this is
Hermione we’re talking about, right?

But what about them? Where would they have been without him? Probably in the library, cleaning
out dusty books, or studying Arithmancy and Ancient Runes … talking with Hagrid about the care and
feeding of Blast-Ended Skrewts, Aragog (he shuddered), Hippogriffs, and even Basilisks!

And probably *bored* out of their skulls … or *Harry* would be. Which would lead to
arguments … fights … battles … and the thought flashed through his mind: Harry Potter with glasses
but with his red hair and freckles, teasing, arguing, fighting with Hermione about transfiguration,
potions or the library …

He shuddered.

Would they be in love with each other, if *he* were not around to have provided a balance
in the early years?

Maybe not … or they will have found a way to work it out.

Harry will find a way to work it out.

He never would.

But now that they were in love … was there going to be a place for him in their lives?

His mind was pursuing this line of thought as he approached the portrait and absently gave the
password. He walked on – and slammed into the still-closed portrait. He bounced back with a muffled
yelp – and realized that the portrait was empty. Before he could start wondering where the Fat Lady
had gone, the portrait opened – to reveal Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas stepping out.

Ron didn’t even bother to ask where the Fat Lady had gone, but ran up to his room to shower and
change, mumbling thanks as he passed the two Gryffindors. He pushed the questions about his friends
to the back of his mind … and wondered, briefly, why the Fat Lady wasn’t at her post.

It was while he was in the shower that it suddenly hit him like a fist in the stomach.

Two years before, on Halloween, a still-maddened and impulsive Sirius Black had slashed the Fat
Lady’s portrait when she refused him entry to the tower. Sirius had been after Peter Pettigrew,
renegade Marauder and Animagus that, at the time, was masquerading as *his* pet rat,
Scabbers.

***

*The Great Hall
The Evening Before
6:45 p.m. (Halloween)*

Harry Potter was standing in the entrance to the Great Hall, watching the clouds of bats flying
around the high-ceilinged room, moving among the giant pumpkins floating in the air, fairy lights
or candles within giving an eerie glow to their carved faces. His eyes were fastened on a
particularly large pumpkin floating serenely in mid-air, much like a matronly queen surrounded by
fawning attendants.

Anyone who knew him well would know that something was bothering him. There was a blank look on
his face as he focused on the floating pumpkin, and his right arm continually twitched, as if he
were about to draw his wand and cast curses left and right.

Someone who could read his mind would have been shocked to learn that that was exactly what he
was thinking – except that his hand was twitching to draw his wand and blast the offending pumpkin
to smithereens.

There had been one such pumpkin floating above him during last year’s Halloween feast. He’d been
watching it, having lost interest in the teacher’s table when Professor Dumbledore had announced
Cedric Diggory as the Hogwarts’ champion … and he wasn’t paying much attention when the Goblet of
Fire launched another parchment into the air … he’d actually been musing about Linus and his
infatuation with the Great Pumpkin, when he heard his name called out.

And *that* was the start of another horrendous year for him …

He pushed those thoughts from his mind. He’d given up going over the events of last year over
and over again … at some point, he’d given up on feeling guilty for being the cause of Cedric
Diggory’s death at the hands of the Dark Lord. He’d finally realized (as he did the night that he
learned about Neville’s parents) that he had nothing to do with it at all … if there was anyone to
blame, it was Voldemort and his insane lust for power.

Cedric was only the latest victim in Voldemort’s insanity … a list that stretched back over
years … his parents, the Longbottoms, the Bones (he watched as Susan Bones, a Hufflepuff from his
year passed him, wondering if she was related to that family) … others that he did not even know
about …

With an effort of will, he cast around for a pleasant memory to counter the darkness that
threatened to overwhelm him … and came up with the smiling, brown-haired and brown-eyed face of his
best friend.

Hermione Granger.

If there was one thing good that came out of fourth year, it was the realization that Hermione
meant something more to him than just his “best friend.” She was not just the brainy friend who
helped him perfect the Summoning Charm as well as other hexes and charms to help him get through
the Third Task … she wasn’t just the loyal companion who didn’t abandon him when it seemed that
everyone had turned against him (somehow, he could still remember the taste of the toast she
brought him the day after Halloween last year) … she wasn’t just that striking beauty he saw at the
Yule Ball – so different from his everyday memory of her that his mouth had dropped open (and his
brains had probably rolled out as well) …

She was Hermione.

Best friend. Constant companion. Guide and teacher. Sometimes a pain … but always, always with
his best interests in mind. Founder of S.P.E.W. (he grinned and waved at Dobby as he passed by.)
Sometimes she mothered him too much (he smiled as he remembered her wheedling him to eat something
before his first Quidditch match).

His guardian angel.

His angel.

If there was one thing that he will have to thank The Great Pumpkin for, it will be that of
giving him the presence of mind to remember that Hermione had been crying in the girl’s bathroom
during their first Halloween at Hogwarts.

He briefly pondered what it would have been like without Hermione in his life – and pushed the
thought away. He didn’t need that feeling of having a dozen dementors hovering around him, sucking
away every bit of happiness he felt when thinking about her....

A life without Hermione? He couldn’t conceive of such a thing now. And if she didn’t feel the
same way about him … Things would not change. She would still be Hermione … she would still be his
best friend … she would still be his guardian angel …

He hoped.

If she were a *real* guardian angel, she’d have long gone back to the Archangel Michael
begging for another assignment. He didn’t want to count (again!) the number of times she’d been
with him on his adventures and crusades … the number of times she’d been battered and bruised being
with him, starting with the “midnight duel” in first year … or the number of times she’d stopped
breathing whenever he played Quidditch …

He didn’t want to remember her face covered with fingernail marks, when she’d clutched it in
fear during the First Task last year. Or the look on her face when he dragged himself into the
hospital wing with Dumbledore at the end of the Third Task.

She’d given so much of herself to him over the years.

And now … he was not sure if he could ask any more from her.

If there was one thing that last year had pounded into his (admittedly) thick skull, it was the
value of thinking things through, rather than plunging recklessly into danger – and too often,
dragging Hermione or some other friend with him. Although he’d given up on his guilt over Cedric’s
death, there were times when he still wondered if things would have been different if he’d thought
things through, rather than letting the allure of winning the Tri-Wizard Cup rule him.

He would not make that mistake again.

This time, he will let his head rule. This time, he will follow his head, not his heart … he
will not plunge recklessly into the fire of his passion and love for Hermione … he will take it
slowly … he will take it logically … he will give her all the space she needed to think …

A soft voice murmured in his ear, “Why hello there, Charlie Brown.”

Startled, he turned to face the voice, and met a pair of brown eyes sparkling with mischief and
glee. He checked his sudden impulse to kiss those eyes (and everywhere else on that face, for that
matter) and contented himself with an upraised eyebrow. “Charlie Brown?” he inquired.

Hermione giggled at the look on his face; he knew as well as she did what she was referring to –
or did he? They both heard giggles from behind them, and turned to see several Ravenclaw first
years quickly slip past them

Harry poked her shoulder and said, “Charlie Brown? You mean *Linus*, don’t you?” as he
waved his hand at the large pumpkin floating above their heads.

“Linus?” She asked him, perplexed. “You’re not a Linus, Harry … you don’t go around sucking your
thumb, you don’t carry a security blanket with you …”

“You’re *my* security blanket, Hermione,” he whispered. That stopped her cold. Did she
*actually* hear *Harry* say that?

Before he could respond, a commotion at the doorway drew their attention. They turned around in
time to see Draco Malfoy enter the Great Hall -- with his trademark smirk, and wearing only a pair
of pumpkin-patterned boxer shorts.



3. The Great Pumpkin
--------------------

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

**Title:** It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (03)


**Author name:** Romulus Lupin

**Author email:** galigad@yahoo.com

**Category:** Romance


**Sub Category:** Angst


**Keywords:** H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two


**Rating:** PG-13


**Spoilers:**SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF


**Summary:** The Great Pumpkin is a figment of the imagination, right? So why are FOUR
pumpkins rising out of Hagrid’s pumpkin patch? Where are they headed? And why is one of them
heading directly for Gryffindor Tower?


**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS
characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is
the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Three: The Great Pumpkin

*The Gryffindor Common Room
Midnight (Halloween)*

Groaning with contentment and feeling happy with the day, the Gryffindors gathered in their
Common Room after the feast. It had extended way beyond its normal course, helped along by
impromptu presentations by the Hogwarts’ ghosts as well as the musical entertainment provided by
the Weird Sisters, whom Headmaster Dumbledore had invited to, in his words, “spice up” their
traditional Halloween feasts.

It would have ended earlier were it not for an impromptu karaoke contest masterminded by the
Weasley Twins, with each house putting up its own contestants (to everyone’s surprise, Neville
possessed a smooth and enchanting baritone that provided a perfect counterpart to Lavender’s
enthralling soprano).

As the students dragged their sated bodies up the stairs to their dormitories, Hermione noticed
the Terrible Two walking to one of the windows to look out, she remembered, at Hagrid’s hut and the
now-emptied pumpkin patch.

She’d felt a momentary stab of worry for the gentle half-giant, who was still out of the country
on some mission for Dumbledore. The thought of Hagrid brought a sudden smile to her face as she
remembered the events of the evening.

The Halloween feast had been as delicious as usual, the laughter and banter around the tables as
animated as ever, with occasional snickers and loud laughter as they remembered Draco Malfoy’s
humiliating entrance that night – and constant speculation as to *who* had cast the charm or
the hex that made Draco’s entrance into the Great Hall so memorable (and, to ensure that no one
will easily forget, Colin Creevey’s ever-trusty wizard camera had caught the whole thing for
posterity!)

The Gryffindor Prefects suspected that the Terrible Two had something to do with it … but their
only basis for that suspicion was that the Gryffindor first years entered the Hall immediately
behind the smirking Draco Malfoy. Ginny and Ron, who were escorting the first years in, however,
hotly denied that they – or any other Gryffindor for that matter – did the deed. Harry and Hermione
suspected, however, that the two were not entirely truthful … there was a suspicious blush on the
cheeks of the Terrible Two (although, to be fair, Cindy always had rosy cheeks) …

They had both decided to forget about the question of *whodunit* … what they both didn’t
know wouldn’t hurt them …

Harry and Hermione sat beside each other as always, while Ron and Ginny were opposite them. Ca
and Cindy were seated beside Ginny, and they were all happily chatting away when Fang, Hagrid’s
hugely frightening but extremely amiable boar-hound, bounded into the Great Hall, dragging a couple
of house-elves who were trying to restrain him. Hagrid had left Fang in the keeping of the
house-elves; Fang, on the other hand, had other ideas and almost always made a beeline for Harry
every time he had a chance.

This time was no exception; he had placed both paws on Harry’s shoulders and was slobbering all
over him, to the great amusement of the others at the Gryffindor table. Harry was trying to fend
off Fang, saying, “Geroff me, you big git! Sheesh, when was the last time you brushed your
teeth?”

Hermione, finally taking pity on him, stood behind Fang and started scratching him behind the
ears – a move that made Fang sit down and look apologetic to the people around him. Hermione
grabbed a whole chicken from the table and gave it to Fang, who clamped the morsel between his
jaws, stretched out on the floor beside Harry, and proceeded to eat. The house-elves looked at
Professor Dumbledore, who shrugged at them with a twinkle in his eye; taking that as their cue,
they bowed to Harry and Hermione and left Fang to his meal.

Hermione looked at Harry with a wide smile and commented, “Told you that you were Charlie Brown,
Harry. Now all we need is Pigwidgeon flying around like Woodstock to complete the set.”

“Well, Fang is certainly no Snoopy, Hermione – but I suppose you can be Lucy? You gonna charge
me ten Knuts an hour for ‘psychological counseling’?” Harry responded with a grin.

“For you, Harry, ten *Sickles* an hour is just right. Besides, if I charged you for every
hour we talk, I’ll probably *own* your Gringott’s vault by the time we graduate from
Hogwarts.” At the other end of the table, Lee Jordan suddenly burst out laughing, catching almost
everyone else by surprise. Chortling, he called out, “That’s telling him, Hermione! Don’t let him
get away with being ‘famous’ Harry Potter for nothing!”

The people at their side of the table looked at him in surprise and confusion, as Hermione
smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Finally, Ron swallowed his food and asked, “What’s all this about
Charlie Brown and Lucy? *Who* are Charlie Brown and Lucy? And what does *Pig* have to do
with it?”

Hermione laughed, and proceeded to tell them about the famous Muggle comic strip that had been a
fixture in Muggle newspapers even during the time of her grandparents. Seamus Finnegan, whose
father was a Muggle, suddenly joined the conversation, “Wasn’t there something about a … a Great
Pumpkin or something?”

Hermione smiled, “Yeah … one of the kids, Linus, always spent Halloween in the pumpkin
patch.”

“Why?” Ginny asked, interested.

“Well,” Hermione explained, “he believed that every Halloween, the Great Pumpkin will rise out
from the pumpkin patch and bring gifts to little boys and girls around the world. So, every
Halloween without fail, the comic strip will show Linus in the pumpkin patch, sometimes with
Charlie Brown, sometimes by himself, or Charlie Brown’s dog Snoopy, waiting to see the Great
Pumpkin rise from the pumpkin patch.”

“That’s nice,” said Ron.

“Well, one thing you gotta say for the guy,” said Hermione, “he had *faith*. No matter that
he never actually saw the Great Pumpkin, he still kept going back to the pumpkin patch every year
to wait.”

“That’s cute,” Ginny said. Looking up at the pumpkins hovering over their heads, she continued,
“I wonder what the Great Pumpkin will be bringing us this year.”

Hermione felt a sudden chill in the air at that statement – and remembered her inadvertent
entrance into the bathroom she’d been avoiding for years. She was surprised to see Ginny and Ron
staring down at their plates for a moment (she didn’t know of their encounters with their Halloween
memories) before looking up and catching her eye. Almost at the same time, the three cast a look at
Harry, whose eyes were suddenly closed as even he recalled the events that started with the
Halloween feast last year.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny said softly. “That was most … tactless.”

Harry opened his eyes and smiled at her, although the laughter was not evident in his green
eyes. “It’s all right, Ginny. So far, nothing’s happened … except for Malfoy’s pumpkin pie
drawers!”

The laughter that followed had dissipated the tension somewhat, and the announcement by
Headmaster Dumbledore of the evening’s entertainment soon diverted their attention from the
question that had chilled the air.

***

Hermione quietly approached Ca, who was looking out the window with her friend Cindy beside her.
“Waiting for the Great Pumpkin to come, girls?”

Both girls turned to her with (Hermione thought) rather guilty expressions. She wondered for a
moment what they had had planned when Ca spoke up, “My mother gave me a Charlie Brown book when I
was little … she’d had it since she was small. Every year, at Halloween, she’d tell me about the
Great Pumpkin – and remind me never to lose faith that there was magic in this world.”

“And then you learned that there really was magic in the world,” Hermione said, remembering the
day that the letter from Hogwarts arrived at *her* house. She was surprised, however, when Ca
did not respond to this; it was as if she had, for some reason or another, known about the
existence of magic.

The two girls made their excuses, and proceeded up the stairs to their dormitory. Hermione
stared after them for a while, wondering at the conversation and the feeling she had that Ca was
hiding something.

She was about to pursue the thought further when a movement out the window caught her eye. She
looked out and her mouth dropped open. Forcing a breath in, she gasped, “Harry? *Harry!*”

Harry, hearing the tension in her frightened voice, was beside her in seconds, followed closely
by Ginny and Ron, who had decided to sit up for a while with them. What they saw outside the
windows caused sharp breaths to be drawn all around …

Rising majestically from the pumpkin patch were one … two … three … four … pumpkins with carved
faces and an ethereal light shining from within … soon followed by another, smaller pumpkin that
trailed in the wake of the magnificent four.

They watched, transfixed, as the five pumpkins floated high in the air and approached the
castle, flying in a line astern formation – which soon broke up as the pumpkins started moving in
different directions around the castle.

And one of them – a pumpkin with a lightning bolt-shaped scar – was heading directly for
them.



4. The Gifts of the Pumpkin
---------------------------

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

**Title:** It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (04)


**Author name:** Romulus Lupin

**Author email:** galigad@yahoo.com

**Category:** Romance


**Sub Category:** Angst


**Keywords:** H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two


**Rating:** PG-13


**Spoilers:**SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF


**Summary:** ‘Every Halloween, the Great Pumpkin rises out of his pumpkin patch to bring
gifts to all good children around the world.’ So, what did the Great Pumpkin bring for Harry,
Hermione, Ron and Ginny?

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS
characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is
the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Four: The Gifts of the Pumpkin

*The Gryffindor Common Room
Midnight (Halloween)*

Harry drew his wand, preparing to blast the pumpkin to smithereens when he felt Hermione’s hand
on his, pulling his wand down. “Harry, this is *Hogwarts*,” she said in a reasonable voice. “I
doubt if You-Know-Who will be dumb enough to try to pull a stunt like that … besides, what would
*he* know about The Great Pumpkin?”

Harry looked at her oddly, but decided to let it go. He still kept his wand ready, however, as
The Great Scarred Pumpkin (as he called it in his mind) flew majestically towards them. As it
approached, their window opened (apparently magically), and the pumpkin flew in to hover a foot
above the floor of the Common Room.

The four friends stared at the pumpkin and glanced nervously at each other, none of them willing
to make a move.

“Step back, guys!” Harry finally said, breaking the sudden silence. “Get behind something … if
this thing blows …”

As Ron and Ginny huddled behind a large couch, he stepped forward – only to be stopped by
Hermione. “Harry,” she said in a quavering voice, “if there’s something in it …”

They stared at each other for a long moment … and with a sudden resolution, both stepped forward
and tapped the pumpkin with their wands, all the while prepared to drop to the floor (Harry
positioning himself to cover her, just in case.)

Nothing happened.

The two looked at each other again, an unspoken conversation taking place through their eyes …
with a nod, Harry grabbed the top of the pumpkin and pulled it out, at the same time, lunging
towards Hermione and throwing her to the floor, with his body covering her.

Nothing.

After a few seconds, Ron spoke up from behind a couch, “Harry? You can stop shagging Hermione …
I don’t think it’s gonna blow.”

A suddenly flushed Harry Potter and a furiously blushing Hermione Granger picked themselves up
off the floor. They gathered around the pumpkin … and suddenly gasped.

Inside the pumpkin, a foot-high troll doll lay, clutching a club in one hand and … a small House
Cup in the other. As Harry pulled it out, he saw, to his surprise, that the House Cup was accurate
in all respects – down to the plaque which had the words, “Gryffindor House, 1991” on it. Harry
stared at it for a long moment, and silently handed it to Hermione, who was looking at it in
shock.

Ginny, who had stepped up to the pumpkin, looked inside – and shrieked, jumping away from the
still-floating pumpkin. Ron, who was opposite her, also took a look and, with a laugh, pulled out a
long, green toy serpent wrapped around a picture frame. He silently unwound the snake from the
frame – and with a huge grin lighting up his face, handed the picture to Harry.

Harry took one look at the picture – and blushed as deeply as the hair on the Weasley’s heads.
Ginny, who had recovered from her initial fright at seeing what she thought was a baby basilisk,
grabbed the picture from Harry before he could protest. One look … she passed the picture of Harry
and Hermione hugging each other in the Great Hall to Hermione – whose blush now rivaled that of
Harry Potter.

Ron, in his turn, took a look -- and pulled out a large, fluffy, toy hippogriff. Silently, he
placed it on the table … a pensive mood suddenly overtaking him as he looked up at Harry and
Hermione. Ginny stared at the three, wondering yet again at the experiences and secrets that they
shared.

Since none of them were moving, she glanced at the pumpkin -- and noticed that flames had
appeared in the opening. Looking inside, she pulled out a large goblet with a red flame flickering
on top … she recognized it at once – the Goblet of Fire. With shaking hands, she carefully placed
it on the table beside the other gifts.

At that moment, the flames in the Goblet turned green, casting an eerie, flickering light over
the Common Room and the faces of the assembled Gryffindors … but then, the flame flickered out,
leaving in its place a rolled up parchment.

Shaken, Harry opened the parchment and started reading. He sighed, rolled the parchment up, and
dropped it on the table. With a longing glance at Hermione, he slumped in a chair and covered his
face with his hands. Before either of the girls could make a move, Ron snatched the parchment up –
and began reading it out loud:

“Halloween 1995

Dear Harry,

The gifts of the Pumpkin are often shrouded in doubt. I imagine that you think the ”gifts” given
you these past few years have caused nothing but pain for you and your friends.

Know now, Harry Potter, that even the Great Pumpkin has no control over your destiny. All that
has happened in the past came about not through the intervention of the Great Pumpkin, but in spite
of it. That you have done well is only a mere indication ofthe strength and courage that lies
within your heart.

Follow your heart, Harry Potter. Doing so in the past has always led to good things for you and
your friends; do not allow a temporary setback to make you doubt the urgings of your heart.

Follow your heart, Harry Potter – especially now when you confront a question that lies close to
your own heart and soul.

There is a time to follow your head … but there are times to follow your heart.

Never try to treat love as an examination you can prepare for. Whatever preparation one makes
cannot take into account everything that may happen. And don't try to reduce love to an
intellectual exercise. In the end, feeling -- an intangible something -- actually defines it for
us

.

Treat love as an adventure. Nobody wants to be hurt ... no one walks in with eyes closed ...
everyone wants to be sure of oneself. But how can we ever be sure unless we try?

Love is one of those intangible, undeniable things that happen -- unavoidable, except by
choice.

But then ... who does not make the choice to try?

At the same time, keep in mind that sometimes, the love you hold for a person can never be
realized in the usual ways. At the moment of realization, it begins to change ... away from
selfishness to one of truly caring without the need for any actual return.

Love is never lost.”

Ron looked at the Harry and the two girls. “It’s not signed,” he said, as he quietly placed the
letter on the table beside the toys.

Silence greeted him. All their eyes were glazed, unfocused … their thoughts turned within as
they contemplated the words from The Great Pumpkin.



5. Clearing the Air
-------------------

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

**Title:** It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (05)


**Author name:** Romulus Lupin

**Author email:** galigad@yahoo.com

**Category:** Romance


**Sub Category:** Angst


**Keywords:** H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two


**Rating:** PG-13


**Spoilers:**SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF


**Summary:** Ginny does a drama queen, and Ron goes contemplative. And what about Harry and
Hermione?

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS
characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is
the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Five: Clearing The Air …

“Thank you.”

Three pairs of eyes snapped from their reverie and focused on the person who had spoken. After a
moment, Ginny lifted her eyes from their inspection of the toy serpent, and locked on Harry
Potter’s eyes.

“The message isn’t just for you, Harry,” she said, with a sad, wistful smile. “I think it’s
meant for **all** of us.”

Harry frowned, puzzled at her statement. Before he could voice his questions, however, Ginny
continued: “Before anything else, there is something I must tell you … something I have been
meaning to tell you for a long time.”

A look of panic came over Harry’s face. He *knew* what Ginny was going to say … he’d been
dreading this moment for years … fearing the moment when he would have to break little Ginny’s
heart … to tell her that yes, he loved her but that he was **not** *in love* with her …

With a deep breath, Ginny exhaled, saying in a sad, calm voice, “Thank you for my life, Harry
Potter.”

For a long moment, Harry was speechless. Of the many scenarios he had built up in his mind, this
was something he never expected. “Ginny,” he said, waving a hand in the air, prepared to pass the
gratitude off, embarrassed once more at the prospect of his achievements being brought to the light
of day.

“Shut it, Potter.” Ginny's response brought all eyes on her and she looked back at Harry
with a glint of determination in her eyes. “For once in your life, shut up and *listen* when
someone thanks you for saving her life.”

Harry closed his mouth.

“I know what you were thinking, Harry. Here’s where I give you my speech of undying love and
devotion … this is where I promise that I will wait for you … and hope that someday, somehow, you
will look at me in the same way that I look at you.

“But no … you’ve given your heart to someone else. There is nothing that I can do to change that
… you’ve both shared too many things together for me to play catch-up …” She glanced briefly at the
photo of Harry and Hermione hugging in the Great Hall, and gave him a tremulous smile. “But I still
owe you my life.”

Ginny walked over to where Harry was seated. Harry quickly stood up, and Ginny grabbed his
hands, holding them tight and, looking deeply into his green eyes, said, “I have never been able to
thank you properly, Harry … simply because I have always had my crush over you standing in the way.
I always thought that the only proper way to thank you for giving me back my life was for you to
fall in love with me … so that I can return what you have given me in full measure, and more.

“I never realized that there are other ways, Harry. I have always thought that there is only one
kind of love … but there is friendship, affection … being there to help whenever needed. But you
never even gave me a hint that you needed *my* help, Harry … neither that you needed *my*
friendship.

“I can understand that. But Harry, don’t close your mind to me … don’t close your heart to us …
those who you have touched over the years. Myself … Fleur Delacour’s sister… Neville ... my Mum and
Dad. You cannot give your heart to *all* of us … but we, those of us who can, will give you
back the friendship, affection, and trust you gave – in equal measure or more.”

Harry Potter stared at her in disbelief. Was this little Ginny, the girl who followed him around
like a fan in her first year? Was this Ginny who, as late as last year, still blushed whenever he
came within greeting distance?

“She’s right, Harry.” He turned to look at Ron, who was absently tossing the stuffed-toy
hippogriff from one hand to another. “All these (waving the hippogriff at the other toys) … is a
reminder that you’ve touched so many people over the years. Not just Hermione and myself … there’s
Neville and his Rememberall in first year … Hagrid and all those Petrified in second year … Sirius
in third … Fleur’s sister …

“But you know what’s more important to me, Harry? You never failed *me* … you never turned
your back on me, even when I was being a prat or when I wasn’t even there for you.

“Ron,” Harry said in a dangerous voice. He didn’t need reminding of all that … and he didn’t
*like* Ron’s beseeching tone of voice. But Ron cut him off with a gesture.

“One thing that all of this shows me,” and he waved his hand at the assembled reminders of
adventures past, “… is that you and Hermione have shared far more together than *I* have with
either one of you.”

“Ron …” Harry tried to interrupt, but Ron continued, “Harry … *you* were the one who
remembered that Hermione had locked herself in the girl’s bathroom in first year … you *found*
the page in her hand in second year … it was you, Hermione and the Time-Turner in third year … and
…” Ron turned away from Harry, “it was you and Hermione for the First Task last year, when I was
too stupidly jealous of you to even think straight.”

Ron paused, looking Harry in the eye. “The Great Pumpkin is right, Harry. ‘Love is *never*
lost.’ You may never love Ginny in the way she hoped for … Hermione may not love *me* in the
way everyone hoped she would … but we’ve shared too much together … we *owe* each other too
much … to let something like you falling for Hermione, or Hermione falling for you, to come between
us.”

Harry did not answer. He sat down again with elbows on his knees, staring at his feet. Hermione,
who had been quiet the whole time, suddenly stood up and walked over to sit beside him. In a soft
voice, she told him, “Follow your heart, Harry Potter.”

Without looking up, Harry reached for her hand … holding it tightly for a brief moment before
quietly bringing it to his lips.

The awkward silence stretched … all four of them again locked in their thoughts, but with Harry
and Hermione quietly holding hands – and with Harry’s lips still touching Hermione’s hand. Ron
glanced at Ginny, who was still holding the toy serpent in her hands, apparently thinking back on
her first – and almost *last* -- year at Hogwarts.

“I guess that means no more singing Valentines from you, Ginny.”

“Harry!” Ginny reacted as if she’d been poked with a hot needle – and threw the toy snake at
Harry’s head, as a slow blush covered her face to the point where one could not tell where her
hairline started – or ended.

A soft giggle escaped Hermione’s lips … followed by a loud snicker from Ron … and then, Ginny
smiled. “What a git I was! Remember that dwarf dressed as *Cupid* singing, ‘His eyes are as
green as a fresh pickled toad …’”

It was suddenly too much for the four friends – their somber mood was suddenly broken as a roar
of laughter erupted from their throats, with Ginny’s high, clear laugh rising above the laughter of
the two boys and Hermione. Ron was so taken with hilarity that he inadvertently kicked the
still-floating Great Pumpkin and tipped it over … and a cascade of tarts, pumpkin cauldrons, cream
cakes and other pastries spilled out on the table.

“Food!” shouted Ron.

“Ronald Weasley!” Ginny said, shocked. “Can't you think of *anything* but food? You
already had *four* servings during the feast!”

“Can I help it if your great dramatic scene with Harry gave me an appetite?”

“*I* wasn’t the only one with a great emotional scene, Ron Weasley! *Honestly!*” Ginny
rolled her eyes at him, as Harry and Hermione smiled at each other. Her eyes suddenly narrowed as
she watched Ron opening one of the cakes.

“Ron!” she half-shouted, as she reached over and plucked the cake that was almost at his mouth.
“Are you *sure* of that? Who do you think will be giving out *cream cakes* at a time like
this?”

Ron, irritated at having the tasty morsel taken from him, looked crossly at her -- and then, his
eyes widened. “Gred and Forge?” he squeaked.

“Either them or the Terrible Two,” Ginny replied.

“But they couldn't! Do you think they know *enough* to put all these together?” Ron
protested, sweeping his hand at the pumpkin, the gifts and the parchment

“Do you want to risk it?” Ginny responded.

After a moment of contemplation, Ron replied, “No.”

And then his smile returned, albeit with a decidedly evil glint in it. “I vote that we leave the
goodies out here -- and *ask* those four to test it for us.”

Ginny smiled. “Now, *that's* what I call a plan!”

Grinning, Ron turned to Harry and Hermione – and felt his jaw dropping to the floor with an
audible ‘thud.’



6. A Moment Never Measured
--------------------------

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

**Title:** It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (06)


**Author name:** Romulus Lupin

**Author email:** galigad@yahoo.com

**Category:** Romance


**Sub Category:** Angst


**Keywords:** H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two


**Rating:** PG-13


**Spoilers:**SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF


**Summary:** Warning: FLUFF ATTACK!

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS
characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is
the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Six. A Moment Never Measured

Forever after, they never knew how long they sat there, looking into each other's eyes. It
may have been seconds … it could have been minutes … they never knew.

All that each could remember was that they had turned and smiled at each other at the antics of
their friends … the next thing was a vision of eyes … brown eyes with flecks of gold and the
diamond-like sparkle of unshed tears … green eyes behind round, shiny glasses, shimmering with a
hint of untold regrets.

They didn't speak … not a word, not a whisper.

They spoke to each other through their eyes … for long moments, they spoke only with their eyes
-- recalling incidents in their past together when one saved the other's life … thinking back
to the moments of companionship when they had no one to turn to but each other … remembering the
times when one was in danger and the other could do nothing but watch and wait … evoking memories
of good times, bad times, *terrifying* moments … but always, always, remembering the moments
when they touched and felt strength in the other …

(They never even heard Ron shouting, ’Harry! Hermione! There’s a troll in the room!’ Neither did
they see Ginny shoving Ron away and trying to stuff the toy serpent in his mouth to shut him
up.)

Their lips brushed.

And then again ... feeling warmth passing between them … sensing their breaths mingling together
… the skin barely touching, but feeling a *connection* that went deeper than their physical
selves …

Their hands cupped each other's faces as their eyes stayed locked on each other … and for a
time that neither could measure, they held each other that way.

Their lips finally met … but it was soft.

Poignant.

Tender.

In the back of their minds, the same thought formed … where was the *passion* that they had
heard about, *read* about? Where were the *fireworks* that they were told to expect,
exploding in their minds with the sparkle of a thousand falling stars? Where was the *heat*,
the *energy*, the *fire* they had heard should happen at this moment?

There was none of that.

There was just … completion.

(Beyond their locked eyes, Ron had pulled a furiously struggling Ginny up the stairways to the
dormitories, ignoring her muffled pleas of ‘I wanna watch this, Ron! Geroff me! Let me get Colin’s
camera!’)

Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione, and lifted her from her seat. Hermione, light as a
feather, wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes still locked on his.

Their lips locked. Mouths pressed closer … tongues soon touched … exploring each other's
teeth … gums … the inside of their mouths. The taste and smell of pumpkins and cinnamon mingled
with mint invaded their minds … light-headed, their heads danced … their hands continued brushing
each other's hair … turning unruly and bushy hair even more unruly and bushy … the skin of
their arms and hands brushed each other's necks … velvet-smooth sensations coursed from their
forearms to their brains.

They stopped, and pulled away for a second, only for her head to fall back on his chest, and his
face to fall forward on her hair. They drew in deep, ragged breaths, taking in each other's
smell … committing that moment, and their aroma, to their memories.

(By this time, Ron had bodily thrown Ginny into her room and was on his way to his dormitory,
but he had stopped by the landing … and gaped at the tableau before him. With a sudden grin, he
pulled out his wand and whispered, “Nox” – extinguishing all light in the room, except for the fire
blazing in the fireplace – something that the two on the couch did not even discern.

Having done his duty in the name of modesty, he sat down to watch, unaware of the soft, padding
footsteps coming down from the girls’ dormitories.)

Harry's hands lifted Hermione's head to his, and he laid his lips next to her ear. She
could feel his warm breath on her hair, blowing away the strands that surrounded the shell of her
ear. She felt Harry's tongue licking her ear … leaving behind a coolness that made her shiver …
he wrapped his arms around her, as if to keep her warm, but only to hold her tighter to his
chest.

She felt him taking in a deep breath and she placed her lips beside his ear, blowing at the
strands of air there … and both spoke, for the first time in what they were never able to say were
seconds, minutes or hours:

*I love you.*

They whispered the words to each other, exhaling the words into each other's ears at the
same time.

*I love you.*

Harry moved his lips to kiss her ear and whispered, “I love you, Hermione Granger.”

She wrapped her arms even more tightly around him, and whispered back, “I love you too, Harry
Potter.”

“Stay with me tonight?” At a nod, he lifted her to the sofa, where they sat side by side – but
Hermione lifted her legs and draped them over his lap. She pillowed her head on his shoulder, and
he quietly rested his head on her hair. Holding each other, they quietly drifted off to sleep …
neither speaking … but knowing that this was a moment they will always treasure.

(With a quiet sigh, Ron stood up to go to his room – and nearly crashed into someone behind him.
With a quiet yelp, the other person (persons?) suddenly ran up the stairs to the girls’
dormitories. He shook his head and, smiling broadly, quietly went to his room for a well-earned
rest.)



7. The Day After (Continued)
----------------------------

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter

**Title:** It’s The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (07)


**Author name:** Romulus Lupin

**Author email:** galigad@yahoo.com

**Category:** Romance


**Sub Category:** Angst


**Keywords:** H/Hr, Ron, Ginny, Terrible Two


**Rating:** PG-13


**Spoilers:**SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF


**Summary:** Why **did** Professor McGonagall go to the Gryffindor Common Room? Where did
the other pumpkins go? Is there really something between McGonagall and Snape? Does Snape own
pumpkin-patterned boxers? And what are two lion cubs doing in the Common Room?

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended. Charlie Brown, Linus, Snoopy, The Great Pumpkin and other PEANUTS
characters are the creation of Charles Schultz. "Its The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is
the title of a book and an animated film based on the PEANUTS characters.

Chapter Seven. The Day After (Continued) …

The assembled Gryffindors stood shivering outside the doors of Hogwarts (where McGonagall had
sent them earlier), staring bemusedly at Professor Flitwick (with a hand over his nose) who seemed
to be casting charms at a large pile of clothes. He was surrounded by Slytherins, many of who were
casting angry, even hateful, glares at the assembled Gryffindors.

“What’s going on?” a bleary-eyed Fred Weasley asked Harry. The latter shrugged, mumbling
something about a McGonagall on the warpath. A sudden shift in the wind suddenly sent the
Gryffindors coughing … it was as if someone had distilled the contents of the Hogwarts’ sewage
system into a single, overpowering stench.

“*What* was that?” George said, his eyes watering, and coughing loudly. Ginny quickly
conjured a wind-blocking charm which she had learned from Hermione to deflect the wind … which did
nothing to stop the smell which, they finally realized, was coming from the Slytherins – and the
pile of clothing that Professor Flitwick was casting charms on.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, looking accusingly at the still-coughing Twins who suddenly straightened
up and stared at Harry with hurt expressions in their eyes.

“That wasn’t us, mate!” Fred said.

“Oh, no! If it were us … d’you think we’d have waited for *Halloween*?” George seconded his
Twin.

Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged at him in a ‘don’t look at me!’ gesture. He looked around at
the assembled Gryffindors, suddenly noticing that Hermione was missing … along with Cindy and Ca.
He was about to ask Ginny if she had seen Hermione, when the latter called out to him from the
castle’s doors.

He turned around and saw Hermione coming out of the castle, with a struggling Crookshanks in her
arms, and leading two lion cubs who were playfully swatting at each other as they gamboled
along.

“Uhmmm, Mione …”

“It’s Carolyn and Cindy,” she replied. “I stayed behind to make sure that no one was left in the
girl’s dormitory … when I got to the Common Room, I saw the two eating some cakes, and then …” She
gestured at the two lion cubs who were now playing at her feet, and she stared accusingly at Fred
and George.

“We didn’t do it, Hermione!” The Twins replied at once.

“Honestly!” George said in a movingly injured voice. “We haven’t even got to *that*
yet…”

“Yeah! We were just experimenting … Owww!” his twin said, suddenly breathless from the elbow to
the gut that George launched. “I mean … we haven’t even *perfected* that product yet …”

“What *exactly* does that mean?” Hermione asked in a dangerous voice. She looked ready to
turn both boys, even if they were older and in their Seventh Year, into weasels for their trouble.
Crookshanks, however, distracted her as he suddenly leaped at the playing cubs … and started
hissing, and pawing the two.

She tried to grab Crookshanks when Harry suddenly wrapped his arms around her. “Let him be,
Mione! It’s probably his only chance …”

Hermione cast him a puzzled look.

“The ultimate male fantasy … playing with *two* young girls. Owww! That hurt!” he said, as
Hermione swatted his head. Before she could do any further damage, Professor McGonagall’s arctic
cold voice further chilled the air: “Are all the Gryffindors here? What, in the name of Merlin, is
*that*?”

Professor McGonagall’s mouth – and her square glasses -- had dropped at the sight of the three
cats playing on the ground, surrounded by smiling Gryffindors. She placed her glasses back on her
nose, and her suddenly piercing eyes lasered out at the Weasley Twins.

“We didn’t do it, Professor McGonagall! Promise!” Fred and George responded, right hands up,
left hands over their hearts, in their best
aggrieved-that-you-would-even-think-of-us-doing-something-like-*that* manner.

“Uh, Professor,” Hermione broke in, “what’s going on?”

Professor McGonagall, her laser-like eyes still focused on the protesting twins, replied in a
cold, barely in control voice: “Last night, *someone* sent several pumpkins to the House
common rooms. The one sent to the Slytherins apparently contained several dozen …” she struggled to
find a word, “*improved* dung-bombs.”

“Improved?” Harry questioned. At that moment, the wind shifted again, sending the horrible smell
from the Slytherins (it was now apparent that even the clothes they were wearing had the same
smell) wafting over them and sending everyone, including McGonagall, into another coughing fit.

“It wasn’t us, Professor! I swear on Professor Dumbledore’s wig that we didn’t do it!” Fred said
in a loud voice.

“He wears a wig?” Lee Jordan, the Twin’s best friend, suddenly broke in – only to quail as
McGonagall’s eyes bored into *him*. “Sorry,” he squeaked.

“What about the other Houses, Professor?” Harry stepped in before McGonagall could turn Jordan
into a pumpkin. She looked ready to turn the Twins and their friend into pumpkins and start
bouncing them around, much like Professor Moody (or Crouch) had turned Draco Malfoy into a ferret
last year.

The question successfully diverted McGonagall from the Twins. “Three Ravenclaws were turned into
eagles in their Common Room; I think Miss Bones and Miss Abbot are walking around as badgers in the
Hufflepuff …”

“Too bad Malfoy didn’t turn into a snake,” Ron said, as he spotted Draco Malfoy staring daggers
from among the assembled Slytherins. He raised his voice, “Still wearing your pumpkin drawers,
Malfoy?”

“*Quiet*, Mr. Weasley.” McGonagall’s voice had turned even colder than anyone thought
possible, sending shivers down the spines of everyone within hearing – even the three cats on the
ground froze, and were looking at her with bemused expressions on their faces. “What I *want*
to know is … *who did these?* When I get my hands on those *responsible* … it will be a
cold day in *June* before they finish their detentions!”

The Twins were about to protest their innocence yet again, when a calm voice broke in, calling
out, “Professor McGonagall!”

All eyes turned to the voice of the Headmaster – and Professor McGonagall suddenly stumbled
backwards – whether in shock or surprise, no one could tell – to be caught by Harry and Hermione
before she fell down. She continued to stare at Dumbledore with her mouth gaping open like a fish
out of water.

Professor Dumbledore approached the assembled Gryffindors – white beard and hair sparkling in
the morning sun … blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses … wearing resplendent white robes
sparkling with winking pumpkins.

“Professor Dumbledore!” McGonagall squeaked.

“Quite fetching, aren’t they?” Professor Dumbledore turned around, showing the students all
sides of his robes – and ignoring the snickers coming from the Slytherins. “Actually,” and he
raised his voice slightly, making it heard by the Slytherins, “these are Professor Snape’s
robes.”

Silence fell.

“Professor Snape?” McGonagall paled … she looked as if she were preparing herself for a fainting
spell. “What exactly do you mean, Headmaster? Is this connected to … ” and she gave a vague gesture
towards the Slytherins, including the two lion cubs who were now watching developments with
interest.

Professor Dumbledore looked keenly at the two lion cubs; his eyes, if that were possible, seemed
to twinkle even more. Glancing up at Harry, he said, “Cindy and Carolyn, I assume?”

At Harry’s silent nod, he smiled and threw an inquiring eyebrow at the Twins. He raised his hand
before they could protest their innocence. “I believe that this is something that would be
*beyond* the two of you … unless you’ve been studying hard over the summer and the past few
months?” The two shook their heads. “Or should I expect better than average N.E.W.T.s from you this
year?”

Again, the two shook their heads.

“Ah, well … it seems that whoever did this has a level of expertise far better than any student
at Hogwarts.”

“Uhmmm, Professor.” The Headmaster looked at Hermione. She continued, “Uhmmm … what did you mean
that those are Professor Snape’s robes?”

“Ah, yes … well.” His smile widened. “Apparently some *one* sent another pumpkin to
Professor Snape’s room. When he opened it, he apparently let loose a curse which … ah … turned
*all* his clothes into something like this.”

Snickers were heard, and quickly suppressed at a single glare from Professor McGonagall. Ron, as
usual, couldn’t keep his mouth shut, “Including his boxer shorts, Professor?”

“Ah … ehem … I believe so.” Ron made a valiant effort to stop himself from dissolving into
sudden laughter. His face became redder by the second, his breathing came in gasps, he suddenly
bent over, clutching his stomach … only McGonagall’s laser-sharp eyes kept him from dissolving into
a puddle of laughing Weasley.

“In any case, I offered him one of my robes until … ah, he could brew up a potion to return his
clothes to their original colors.”

“Is he all right, Professor?” Harry asked in a concerned voice that was, nevertheless, shaking
with suppressed laughter.

“Yes, he is. Apparently, only his clothes were affected. Minerva,” and he turned to Professor
McGonagall. “As I was saying, this is apparently something that is *beyond* the capabilities
of any student at Hogwarts … the planning and execution are, to put it mildly, far too exquisite
and detailed to be within the capabilities of *ordinary* pranksters.”

His gaze fell on the two lion cubs who were now swatting at each other, while Crookshanks tried
to get them to play with him. His eyes twinkled as he said, “Even for those with the brains of Miss
Granger and the hearts of Masters Gred and Forge.”

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to protest, but didn’t make a comment when she saw the
outraged expressions on the Twin’s faces. She knew that they had been planning some major mischief
as their graduation neared … whoever had done this had effectively stolen their thunder.
*Nothing* they did from now until graduation from Hogwarts will ever top this!

That thought, and the frustration it brings, would be punishment enough for them.

She turned back to Professor Dumbledore with a sigh. “I expect you’re right, Headmaster. This
will just go down as another of the many mysteries of Hogwarts …”

The Headmaster nodded.

A slight ‘pop’ was heard, followed by -- “Owww! That hurt!” All eyes turned to see Cindy and Ca
on all fours on the grass – apparently, one or the other had been scratched by a still-playful
Crookshanks who, bottle-brushed tail standing straight up, was backing away from the two girls.

The two stood up, brushing themselves off and shivering in the cold morning air, and blushing to
the roots of their hair, not looking anyone in the eye.

“Ah, excellent!” Professor Dumbledore said. “I hope that means that the Ravenclaws and
Hufflepuffs are also back to normal. Miss Granger,” Hermione looked at him. “I suggest you bring
your charges to the Hospital Wing for a check-up. The rest of you should proceed to breakfast … and
take the rest of the day off.”

Cheers rang at this declaration of amnesty. Harry, however, looked at the Slytherins, still
standing around with scowls on their faces. “What about *them*, Professor?” he asked.

“The house elves will be bringing out food. I expect that their … *aroma* will not be
conducive to eating, especially when confined to the Great Hall.”

“Thank *you*!” a dozen fervent voices (including Ron’s) were heard.

“All right, then.” With that, the Gryffindors started walking towards the doors of Hogwarts,
Hermione with her arms around Cindy and Ca, Harry following them.

“Harry! A moment, if you please.” Hermione looked back at Harry who, with a shrug, went over to
Professor Dumbledore.

“A most impressive prank, don’t you think, Harry?”

“Uhm … yes, Professor. Most impressive.” Harry looked at the Headmaster, puzzled. “Was there
something you needed from me, sir?”

“Oh, yes.” The Headmaster reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out an old, battered,
dog-eared, red pocketbook and handed it to Harry, saying at the same time, “Madame Pince found this
in the library the other day … Can you please return this to Carolyn, a gift from her mother, I
believe.”

Harry took the book, glancing at the cover – and looked at the Headmaster in surprise. There
were several very *familiar* round-headed characters below the title, “*It’s the Great
Pumpkin, Charlie Brown*.”

The Headmaster looked back at him impassively.

“Professor …” Harry couldn’t ask the questions that suddenly came to mind. Professor Dumbledore,
however, apparently read his mind. “As I said, Harry … I doubt that any student could have done all
this … at the very least, it would have required some very *competent* help.”

“I see …” Harry said slowly. Curious, he opened the book – and saw an inscription on the inside
front cover:

“Carolyn (he read) …

Your Uncle Remus gave this to me when I was a little girl. Always remember what he told you (and
me, when I was younger) – ‘Never doubt the existence of magic in our lives.’


Take care.


Mum”

He looked up at the Headmaster in surprise. “*Uncle* *Remus?* As in Professor
*Remus* Lupin?”

“I believe that Remus’ youngest sister was, unfortunately, non-magical. It happens, even in the
best wizarding families. But then, it sometimes manifests itself strongly in the next
generation.”

“I see.” Harry said, slowly. With a sudden grin, he asked, “Do you think we will *ever*
find out who really did this, Professor? I mean … you *did* say that a student could have done
this with *competent* help. Like … a *Marauder’s* help?”

The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled. “Follow your heart, Mr. Potter. You may find an answer there …
although it seems that *you* have found some answers of your own last night.”

With that, he started walking towards the castle, his pumpkin-patterned robes swirling around
him … leaving a dazed Harry Potter, with his mouth opened once again, staring at his retreating
back.

The End



