The Weasley of Slytherin: The Half Blood Prince

Chapter 13: In the Bathroom

Harry and I told Ron, and Hermione everything that had happened during next morning's Charms lesson (having first cast the Muffliato spell upon those nearest them).

Harry explained everything that he'd seen in Slughorn's memory while I helped fill in the details about how he got it.

They were both satisfyingly impressed by the way we had wheedled the memory out of Slughorn and positively awed when Harry told us about Voldemort's Horcruxes and Dumbledore's promise to take Harry along, should he find another one.

"Wow," said Ron, when Harry had finally finished telling us everything; Ron was waving his wand very vaguely in the direction of the ceiling without paying the slightest bit of attention to what he was doing. "Wow. You're actually going to go with Dumbledore . . . and try and destroy . . . wow."

"Ron, you're making it snow," said Hermione patiently, grabbing his wrist and redirecting his wand away from the ceiling from which, sure enough, large white flakes had started to fall.

Lavender Brown, I noticed, glared at Hermione from a neighboring table through very red eyes, and Hermione immediately let go of Ron's arm.

"Oh yeah," said Ron, looking down at his shoulders in vague surprise. "Sorry . . . looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now. . . ."

He brushed some of the fake snow off Hermione's shoulder. Lavender burst into tears. Ron looked immensely guilty and turned his back on her.

That was cold of him

"We split up," he told Harry and me out of the corner of his mouth. "Last night. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you two, so she thought it had just been the two of us."

"Ah," said Harry. "Well — you don't mind it's over, do you?"

"No," Ron admitted. "It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't have to finish it."

"Coward," said Hermione, though she looked amused.

"Completely spineless." I said shaking my head.

"Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Ginny and Dean split up too, Harry."

I saw that there was a rather knowing look in her eye as she told him that.

Harry kept his face as immobile and his voice indifferent, which honestly was more suspicious then if he'd shown any emotion, he asked, "How come?"

"Oh, something really silly . . . She said he was always trying to help her through the portrait hole, like she couldn't climb in herself . . . but they've been a bit rocky for ages."

I glanced over at Dean on the other side of the classroom. He certainly looked unhappy.

"Of course, this puts you in a bit of a dilemma, doesn't it?" said Hermione.

"What d'you mean?" said Harry quickly.

"The Quidditch team," said Hermione. "If Ginny and Dean aren't speaking . . ."

"Oh — oh yeah," said Harry.

"Unless there's something else you're thinking about." I said to him. It was pretty clear Harry fancied Ginny. And honestly she could do worse.

"Flitwick," said Ron in a warning tone. The tiny little Charms master was bobbing his way toward them, and only Hermione and I had managed to turn vinegar into wine; our glass flasks were full of deep crimson liquid, whereas the contents of Harry's and Ron's were still murky brown.

"Now, now, boys," squeaked Flitwick reproachfully. "A little less talk, a little more action . . . Let me see you try. . . ."

Together they raised their wands, concentrating with all their might, and pointed them at their flasks. Harry's vinegar turned to ice; Ron's flask exploded.