It was midnight and the streets of Little Winging were completely deserted. The lawns of the suburban town were once again yellow and streaked because of yet another water ban caused by a new drought, and throughout the gardens there was a look of abandonment.

A single lonely snowy white owl swooped down over the street called Privet Drive with a mouse in her beak. She looked so out of place, and it couldn't have been clearer that she was definitely not in her natural habitat. She let out a muffled hoot as she landed on the roof of number 4.

Inside number 4, Harry Potter had drifted into an uneasy sleep only moments before. He had spent the entire evening in his room, searching though all of his possessions. He wanted to make sure that he did indeed have all his things packed, because even though he had just arrived 2 days earlier, he was planing to leave the very next day.

Arriving back at the Dursley's step was more than just weird, because not only did the Dursley's not ignore him. They seemed to be trying to be polite to Harry. Well, as polite as they could possibly be to him, Harry caught himself thinking then. Harry did not quite understand why they were acting this way, but ended with concluding that they must just be relieved that this was indeed the very last time that Harry was forced to return to their home.

Harry was, after all, only one month shy of his seventeenth birthday, with which he would come of age in the wizarding world. This would also mean that he would finally be able to do magic outside of school. This was something that he was greatly looking forward to, seeing as Harry had already been blamed twice and prosecuted once before, for breaking this law by the Ministry of Magic.

Stirring in his sleep, Harry, who had been flat out on his back, now rolled over on his side. His covers were lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, this day had been one of the hottest yet this summer. He had also left his window slightly cracked and a soft cooler breeze swept in, ruffling his hair that was laying across his scarred forehead.

Harry's bedroom was then all of a sudden illuminated with tremendous blazes green light. He awoke with a start, his wand drawn. It had become a habit for him to sleep with it close to the bed, and sometimes even in bed. He scrambled to his feet and ran to the window, knowing very well what sight would meet his eyes. As he looked outside he laid eyes upon a site that he knew had never yet been seen in Privet Drive, until now.

The dark mark was blazing above the tightly placed houses, and it was impossible for Harry to see which one it was lingering over. Harry felt a horrible knot tightening in his stomach. A knot that had been there nearly a week now. He knew this would happen sooner or later, that the Death Eaters would start attacking perfectly innocent strangers, but that they were this close to Harry could not possibly be a coincidence?

He grabbed his shoes and threw them clumsily on as he raced out of the room. His heart was pounding at a wild rate and he was quickly racking his brain for people that he knew lived in Little Winging and that might also be a target for the death eaters. He reached the front door and wrenched it open, but stopped abruptly in the doorway at the sight that met his eye.

There, laying face up in the middle of the street and sobbing, was old Mrs. Figg. Harry had feared that his batty old Squib neighbour might have something to do with this. Still holding his wand up in front of him, he rant quietly towards her. Harry could not hear any other sounds than the soft sobbing that was coming from Mrs. Figg, and the street did seem to be deserted once again.

As he approached the old woman he could see that she was looking a lot older and more frail than the last time Harry had seen her, which had in fact been almost two years previous. Her knuckles and bones where clearly visible and stretching her skin, and she looked as though she could not move at all.

"Mrs. Figg?" Harry whispered, only feet away from her. She looked almost like a corpse laying there in the street, colored a sickly pale green from the still blazing Dark Mark above in the sky. Harry could see now that the Mark was indeed set above Mrs. Figg's house.

"Mrs. Figg? Is everyth..." Harry gasped. Mrs. Figg's eyes were white and glazed as though she had gone blind, and she had now started to shiver uncontrollably.

"Harry? Is that you?" she whispered. "Harry, I can't see. They've taken... They took my sight." She seemed very dazed and confused and tried to sit up, but Harry stopped her.

"No, don't move. I'll help you, just stay still." He moved towards her, but she gave some uncontrolled jerks and started sobbing again. "No, don't touch me. I don't know what's going on, and I'm afraid it'll affect you too." Harry looked panic stricken up and down the street, as if he was looking for the cause of Mrs. Figg's blindness and pain, but he still couldn't see anyone.

"Harry, please listen to me." Mrs. Figg continued to whisper. "You need to find him... Tell... Tell Dumbledore that..." Harry felt a stabbing pain in his already tightly knit stomach. "Mrs. Figg, don't you know that Dumbledore is dead?"

Mrs. Figg gave what sound like a painful sight, and said, "Then tell Minerva that he is alive". Harry stared at her for a split second, summoning some strength before saying, "Mrs. Figg. Dumbledore is not alive. I know, because I saw him die. He was murdered, and I was at he funeral along with hundreds of others. Now, let me help get you to safety." He made to help her up again, but for the first time since he had found her out on the street, she seemed forceful. "No, listen to me. Regulus is still alive, and he has the key. It's at..." But she didn't say more. Her eyes rolled slowly backwards into her head and she went limp.

Harry realized at once, that she was dead.

Stricken with shock to the fact that he had now witnessed his neighbour die in the street, and that he had no idea what to do next, he fell into a sitting position next to Mrs. Figg's body.

He looked up at her face, his mind now churning what she had just told him. That a person named Regulus was alive, and that he needed to find his old transfigurations teacher, Professor McGonagall, and tell her this. But as he sat there, staring at Mrs. Figg's face, he saw something that made him jump far back.

What looked like a tiny little spider was now crawling out of her half-open mouth. Harry moved a little closer to examine it, but as soon as it had landed on the ground next to where Mrs. Figg was laying, it evaporated.

And then, as quick as a flash of light, Mrs. Fig's body rose into the air, 20 feet above Harry, and started rotating slowly. It was a horribly eerie sight that now met Harry's eyes. An emerald green snake issued from Mrs. Figg's mouth, and started to coil itself around her body, while she was rotating. But as soon as it had covered he body completely there was a loud bang, and she was gone.

I did not create magic, nor hp... Don't sue me, I love you!

Completely thrown by the sudden disappearance of Mrs. Figg's body, Harry remained quite still for a few seconds. Although he did not know what had just happened he was sure that it had something to do with dark magic. But before Harry had been able to summon his wits about him loud whip-like cracks sounded all around him. In the half darkness he could see about a dozen witches and wizards who had just apparated onto Privet Drive. Harry dove down on the ground, crouched low and tried to crawl away when he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

"Harry?" It was Remus Lupin, member of the Order and his old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Lupin?" Harry said whisperingly.

"Harry, you need to listen to me" Remus said quickly while moving towards Harry. Behind him Harry could see the rest of the Order members forming a ring, with all their backs turned inwards and their heads bowed. Slowly they started swaying and humming.

"Harry, listen. There is a biscuit tin of Floo Powder by Mrs. Figg's fireplace. I need you to use it to get to the Burrow." Remus looked agitated and was peering around as if to see if anybody was approaching them.

"What? No, Lupin, I need to tell you-- Something happened--" Harry stuttered, quite unsure of what was going on.

"The Order already knows about the murder of Mrs. Figg, ok?" Lupin was starting to look a very unnerved now. And the humming from the ring the Order members had created was growing louder by the minute. "Now you need to do as I tell you. Go to the Burrow, and wait there. Just bring your wand. That is all you will need at the moment."

And when Harry still remained immobile after he heard all this, Lupin gave him a shove and shouted "Go!".
As Harry started running towards Mrs. Figg's house he saw Lupin join in the circle with the other Order members, and Harry recognized a few of them. There was Mad-Eye Moody, who had also been Harry's Professor once, all tough unknowingly at the time. He was now swaying dangerously on his wooden leg as he hummed along with the others. Harry also spotted Tonks, because her bright bubblegum pink hair and youthful clothes made her stand out from the rest.

They were now chanting together, in what sounded like an ancient language that Harry certainly never had heard before. And suddenly they started singing so that Harry also could understand.


The Darkness this light shall Withstand
We art Strong, and shan't be Misled
The Dead shan't stray upon my Hand
The Living overpower Dead


The Order members kept repeating these 4 lines, and Harry stopped up as he heard these words. He had a sinking feeling that he knew what was about to happen, and his gut was telling him that he had to stay and help. He turned back toward the ring of Order members, to see small green dots of fuzzy light in the sky. The lights were descending slowly upon the ring, and growing stronger. Lupin looked up and noticed that Harry was still there.

"Harry! Get a move on. Go!" he shouted. Everybody in the ring started shaking slightly and Harry could see that Lupin was very unnerved by the fact that he was still there.

"Please go, Harry!" Lupin said, almost begging him. "There is no need for you to see what's going to happen, ok?"

Harry understood, and nodded briefly. Then he turned and ran as quickly as he could to the street corner, where Mrs. Figg's house was. But as he took one last look back he could see the greenish corpses descending all around the ring of people in the middle of the street. Once again, he had to fight the urge to run back. But he knew that Lupin wanted what was best for him, and he did not want him to get hurt. Lupin also knew that Harry was a very competent wizard, and the fact that he didn't want Harry to fight now meant that this foe was to great, even for Harry.

So he set of in a sprint up Mrs. Figg's front yard which looked like nobody had ever weeded it out. There was all sorts of weird plants and growths, and some of the grass reached Harry to his knees. As he approached the front door, Harry could see that it was slightly open. He pushed it slowly open, his wand drawn at his side, and stepped inside.

The living room table had been upended. The sofa had been slashed. And there was stuff everywhere on the floor. It was clear that there had been some sort of scuffle here earlier. While he was walking trough the room and over to the fireplace, Harry heard a couple of loud bangs and a scream out in the street. He hurried over to the little biscuit tin shaped like a little cat and peered inside. And sure enough, there was the glittery green traveling powder.

Harry grabbed a handful and walked up to the unlit fireplace, he threw the powder inside, walked in and called 'the Burrow'.

And with a spinning sensation he was whisked away from the chaos that was happening on Privet Drive.

Whirling through clouds of green glittery smoke, Harry tucked his arms closely to his sides as he clutched his glasses. After a little longer he recognized the kitchen at The Burrow through a fireplace, and stumbled forward. He only needed to take one step before he was hurled out of the Floo Network, shot into the kitchen and nearly knocked over the table. But before he had a chance to summon any thoughts on where he was, or what had just happened, two small squealing figures had thrown them selves at him. As they hugged him around the waist, Harry recognized the bushy brown hair of his best friend Hermione. The other figure had long shiny vividly red hair, and Harry deduced that it had to be Ginny. As they were hugging him they both let out small muffled comments that Harry could not hear, because they both spoke into the front of his jumper. Finally Hermione let go, and when she looked up at Harry he could see that her eyes were brimming with tears.



"I'm so glad you're ok", said Ginny, also finally letting go of Harry's waist. She too looked scared and at the verge of tears. "Did you see Lupin? Was it him that told you to come here?"



"Yes", said Harry. "He said that I needed to come here and wait until they were finished doing whatever it was that they were doing. A bunch of the Order members were there, and they were singing and swaying..."



Hermione gasped. "Were they warding of Inferi? Oh my goodness, I knew something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. It was all a matter of time, really..."



"Something like what?" Harry's other best friend, Ron, had just walked into the room. He looked as though he had just gotten out of bed, because his hair was tousled and his eyes were small. "Harry! Good to see you mate! I didn't know you would be dropping by this soon." He beamed at Harry.



"Ron", said Ginny severely, "there's been a inferi attack in Surrey tonight. They came after Harry."



Ron's jaw dropped. "Inferi? In Surrey?", he gasped.



"But that's not all. I need to tell you something else", said Harry. "My neighbour Mrs. Figg... I found her dying in the street. And there was no one else around, and when I found her she couldn't see and she was in a lot of pain. She didn't want me to touch her because it seemed that she thought that whatever was upon her would affect me too." He looked around at the others and saw that Ron looked horrified, but that Ginny and Hermione looked stone faced.



"Lupin was here", explained Hermione. "We were sitting up late, and having a cup of hot cocoa with him when a huge bear shaped patronus came charging in through the door. All it did was touch Lupin's arm, and all of a sudden he jumped up and said that they had gone after Arabella Figg, and that he had to go and find you."



"No, but that wasn't all. She didn't seem to know that Dumbledore was dead, and she wanted me to tell him that someone called Regulus was still alive." Harry sighed. "I told her that Dumbledore was dead, and then she wanted me to tell McGonagall instead. She wanted me to say that Regulus is alive and that he has some key..."



"A key?", muttered Ron. "What kind of key?"



"She didn't say", said Harry. "But she did say 'the key'. Thanks", he added as Hermione laid a blanket over his shoulders.



They all walked into the living room and sat down in the squashy arm chairs. The fire that had obviously been burning earlier was now only bits of glowing charcoal, but it still emanated a faint heat. Harry suddenly realized how cold he really was. He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he sat down on the sofa.



"I can't say that I have ever heard of any key that is supposed to have any big significance, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a look in Great Historic Events of the Past Century but I think I left it upstairs", said Hermione and rushed up to get her book.



"So how are you, Harry?", inquired Ginny. "I mean, how are you holding up?", she said as she looked at him nervously.



As she asked this, Harry moved around a bit uncomfortably on the sofa and waited a few moments before answering. He felt so self-conscious answering a question about his grief when they were all listening. It had already been three weeks since Dumbledore had been killed right in front of him, and yet he still felt completely taken aback. He mostly blamed himself for not being able to do anything about it, mostly because Dumbledore had frozen him, but also because he hadn't even been able to catch Snape afterwards either. And Snape killing Dumbledore was the final proof that he needed to finally be able to prove once and for all that Snape was in fact all evil and working for Voldemort. But there was still so many thing about that night that were still buzzing though his mind at any given time. Why would Dumbledore not even try to defend him self when he knew that they were trying to kill him? Surely he could have done some complex wandless magic, and gotten away? And was it really true like Snape said that he was the half-blood prince? Was it him that he had been trusting to get him through potions with high grades all year?



"I'm fine," he said in a half-convincing tone while staring at the floor.



"No, you're not," said Ginny, "but you will be, someday!"



But before Harry could respond, Hermione came pounding down the stairs again, with a load of thick, heavy books in her arms. "Now, Harry... I've been thinking," she said, as she sat down next to Ron. "Could you please tell me again exactly what Snape said to you when you were chasing him across the ground that night? Can you remember?" she said, looking intently at him.



"What do you mean Hermione? That he was the Prince, and that those were his spells?" said Harry irritably. "I thought you were done gloating about being right about the whole 'Prince'-thing?" Ron scoffed and was about to say something, but Hermione interrupted him before he got the chance to be rude to her.



"That's not what I meant, so save it, Ron!" She switched around uncomfortably in her chair. "What I meant was, " she continued, "was what he said to you when you were trying to curse him."



"Er... 'Blocked, again and again," Harry grumbled. "Or something like that. He was only being the git that he always is, by telling me that I wouldn't be able to catch him."

"You know Hermione," scoffed Ron, "this whole Snape being innocent-theory is getting really old."



"Harry, please just listen to me for a minute!" said Hermione angrily. "Didn't he say something about closing your mind? About how you wouldn't be able to curse him unless you were able to close your mind?"



"Hermione, I told you. He was still on about the Occlumency lessons," grumbled Harry. "I don't think he ever quite got over me breaking into his memory during the lessons two years ago."



"Yeah Hermione," added Ron, "he was probably still just angry at Harry and needed to gloat at him for never being able to do Occlumency, just because he had the chance to."



"Fine!" said Hermione angrily as she got up and gather up all of her books. "Fine! You always have to side with Harry, Ron, and neither of you never even listen to what I have to say! I'm sick of it." Then she stormed up towards the stair, her face screwed up in anger and tears gathering in her eyes.



"...'Mione" muttered Ron, but then she turned furiously towards them and just glared.



"When you might be interested in listening to me, I will be willing to talk to you. But don't you dare give me that patronizing tone, Ronald!" she spat and raced up the stairs. The boys and Ginny sat in silence for a moment and heard a door slam shut some several floors above them.



Ron looked awkward, but Ginny didn't look surprised at all.

"I'll go and talk to her," she said in a resigned tone of voice. "But you're not going to avoid this forever, Ron."



Then she heaved herself out of her seat and scuffled towards Hermione's room. Harry and Ron were left in an awkward silence, and Harry had a pretty good feeling that he knew what this might have been about.



"Since when does Hermione call you Ronald?" he said, as if to break some of the tension. Ron looked up and smiled a half grin, but his face sank quickly into a morose expression instead.



"Yesterday Hermione told me that we should talk," Ron sighed.



"Talk? About what?" said Harry with a fake look of confusion on his face. He knew exactly what Ron meant, but was determined to let Ron set the ground for where the conversation was going.



"Talk about me and her," muttered Ron, not even noticing Harry muttering a soft but completely fake "Oh!" in fake surprise. "She said that there were some things we needed to define. She said that we should do that before we end up in another "Won-Won"-like situation."



Harry suppressed the laugh that erupted in his chest, and nodded with what he hoped looked like a look of concern on his face. He did not envy Ron, but knew that there was no way for him to avoid the situation.



"So why is she so angry?" pressed Harry. "You didn't say something really stupid, did you?" Harry knew that Ron was a great friend, but he also knew that Ron could be very useless with girls.



"The thing is that we haven't actually had that talk yet..." muttered Ron. "I've been avoiding her all of today, because I was afraid that I might say something really stupid and wreck what little chance I still might have with her."



At this point in their conversation Harry was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Ron was being painfully honest with him, and he was in no position to give Ron any advice or anything.



"I mean, I've never met any other girl like her," Ron muttered while staring at the burned out fire. "She's so different from girls like Lavender and Fleur. She's so smart..."



Ron looked up from the fire and straight at Harry and said, " I think I love her, Harry!"

Nothing about this conversation had been news to Harry so far, but he felt like he owed it to Ron to at least pretend to be surprised, so that things might not get even more awkward than they had to be. But still, Harry found himself at a loss of words.



“Er…” he muttered, peering around the room, as if looking for the perfect answer to what Ron had just told him. But before he got the chance to say anything else, Mrs. Weasley came rushing down the stairs with a flabbergasted look on her face.



“Harry, Darling! You’re here,” she exclaimed. “Ron! Why on earth didn’t come and tell me that Harry had arrived?” Ron shrugged as she rushed into the kitchen.



Harry took this opportunity to lean over to Ron and half whisper “Good for you, mate” with a sly smile on his face, before moving into the kitchen. That way he knew that Ron knew he supported him, but it also meant that he didn’t have to talk about right then. In the kitchen Mrs. Weasley was already in the middle of preparing what looked like about two dozen ham and cheese sandwiches.



“Now, I know you’ll be hungry,” she said, while she was balancing on a chair to reach a bowl on the topmost shelf of the cabinet. “You always look so starved after every time you’ve stayed with those Muggles.” Then she muttered on to her self and all Harry could here were stray words like ‘…good reason…’, ‘…complexity of the situation…’ and ‘…better before long…’



Ron and Harry seated themselves in a chair each, and helped themselves from the huge plate of sandwiches.



“Ron, Darling…,” said Mrs. Weasley in a lighter tone. “Was something wrong with Hermione just now? I met her in the stairs and she seemed really furious about something. You boys weren’t winding her up again were you? You know how easily she gets aggravated…”



Ron and Harry peered at each other, and Ron gave Harry a mischievous grin. “Nope,” said Ron with his mouth full of ham and cheese. “Not up to anyfing, mum.”



“Well I suppose you two better get up to bed soon,” Mrs. Weasley carried on. “It’s getting rather late, and you’ll need your sleep for tomorrow. It’s going to be a busy day for you, Harry.”



Harry gazed up at her. “Now wait a minute. I want you to explain to me what happened this evening,” he said with a harsh undertone. He was so sick of people keeping thing from him, and not explaining the things that happened. “And also… What’s happening tomorrow?” he queried.



Before Mrs. Weasley got a chance to say anything, Ron butted in. “Ah man, you didn’t hear? They’re deciding whether or not to shut down Hogwarts tomorrow,” he said, very quikly.



“What?” snapped Harry. “They can’t-- How will they-- What will everybody--“, but his rambling was cut short by Mrs. Weasley.



“Surely Harry, you can understand that the question has been raised,” she said as she sat down across the table from him. “For goodness sake, the Head Master, the man counted as one of the most powerful wizards in the world was murdered on the school grounds.” Harry felt is stomach drop as it always did lately when he thought about his old Head Master. “They now reckon,” Mrs. Weasley continued, “that the school can’t possibly be safe for anyone, if the Death Eaters managed to get in even when Dumbledore was there. That’s what they’re going to determine at the hearing tomorrow. “



Harry shook his head in disbelief. “But the school is safe,” he said angrily. “It was all because of the Vanishing Cabinets. So if the remove those, the school should be impenetrable. “



“I should be, mate,” said Ron, “but nobody can really be sure about it. Hogwarts is so old and the amounts of spells that are set on the school are so many that no one will ever be completely certain that the school is safe.”



Harry thought it seemed as though this topic had indeed been discussed already at The Burrow. But something still bothered him.



“So that’s why I’m busy tomorrow?” he asked. “Because the hearing is scheduled then? What does that have to do with me?”



A voice from the stairs made Harry and Ron jump. “Because they want you to testify, of course.” Hermione had come back downstairs, walking slowly with Crookshanks in her arms. “Of course they know that you were there, the night of Dumbledore’s murder.



And I bet they want a full account of it, so that they can give it as a reason for why the school shouldn’t open again.”



She shuffled over in her slippers and nightgown and sat next to Ron. Then she grabbed a sandwich and stared promptly at Harry.



“But--,” he stuttered, “I don’t want them to close the school. So I shouldn’t be testifying for them. I probably shouldn’t be there at all.”



Hermione sighed. “We know,” she said in an exhausted tone. “We’ve tried to get you out of it all week, but the only way that you can not go, is by refusing to testify. And they threatened to throw you in jail if you did that.”



Harry gave them a horrified look. “What?” he exclaimed. “They can’t do that. That’s illegal.”



Mrs. Weasley sighed and rubbed her eyes in an exhausted kind of way. “We know, dear. But the ministry isn’t going to stop at any point this time. Arthur has been trying to fix this for you at work ever since we learned about it, but all they have to say is that they have let too many things pass through their hands and it’s not going to happen again. He says they will arrest you on the charges “abruption of peace” and “withholding of criminal information” if you do not do it. I’m sorry, dear.”



Harry looked across the table at the three of them sitting there. They all looked gaunt and drawn, and very tired. He didn’t doubt for one second that they had really work on trying to figure out a way to get him out of this business. He just couldn’t understand how the ministry would be able to get away with something like this. But then again, this was the same ministry that refused to believe that Voldemort had returned, and also sentenced an innocent Sirius Black to a lifetime sentence in Azkaban.



Their silence seemed to finally get to Mrs. Weasley, and she stood up abruptly. “No matter. There is nothing we can do about this now, anyway. You’ll just have to try to make everything sound as positive for the school as possible tomorrow, Harry dear. Now I need all of you to march off to bed. It’s far too late to be sitting up, chitchatting.”



At this, Harry, Ron and Hermione dragged their bodies out of their chairs, and towards the stairs. Harry was thinking how tired he actually was when another thought entered his mind, and he turned abruptly again.



“Mrs. Weasley!” he said quickly, “What happened to Mrs. Figg tonight? She was lying blind and hurt in the street when I found her, and when she died--“



“--a spidery bug crawled out of her mouth, right?” Mrs. Weasley interrupted. She sighed, and starred at the ground for a little while, before she said, “Mrs. Figg’s body has been taken into services by the Dark Lord. You see, Harry… If the Dark Lord wants someone as an Inferi he kills them in the cruelest way. Without a use of any spell, a person is forced to swallow a potion that kills you from the inside out. It slowly takes away everything live about you, but the body is still preserved. And the last thing that happens to a body after it is dead, but before it becomes an Inferi, is that the person’s soul leaves their body. After that, the body is at the disposal of the Dark Lord.” She sighed, and looked around the kitchen, as though looking for something more comforting to talk about.



Harry didn’t know what to say. He only heard his own blood pumping in his ears, and small fidgety noises from Ron and Hermione behind him.



“Now now!” Mrs. Weasley said hurriedly. “Any more talk like this and you will never get to sleep. Of you go, now. You need to rest for tomorrow.” Then she shooed them off up the stairs.

Even though Harry’s brain still was filled with questions, he was very tired. It felt like he hadn’t slept for days. So he, Ron and Hermione shuffled on up the stairs to their bedrooms, but just as Ron and Harry were about to enter Ron’s room Hermione stopped them.



“Ehm… Ron?” she muttered softly. “Could I please have a little word with you before we go to bed?” She had stopped by the stairs, and stood very awkwardly and played with her fingernails as she said this.



Ron stopped dead in his tracks, and slowly turned around only to reveal what looked like a painful expression on his face.

“Go on, mate,” whispered Harry with a slight grin on his face. “She really doesn’t look like she’s in a yelling mood”



Ron gave a low grunt and started walking back towards her. Harry made to go into the bedroom as he heard Hermione say “I’m really sorry for yelling at you earlier. I know I should have talked --“, but that was the last Harry hear before he closed the bedroom door.



He undressed and crawled under the covers on his squishy but comfortable roll-away-bed, and had almost fallen asleep five minutes later when Ron came back in.



“All good?” Harry asked.



“She just kept rambling on and on, and all I really wanted to do was to shut her up and go to bed,” Ron confessed as he got into bed.



“So I kissed her,” he said, and then he turned off the light. “Night, Harry!”