Dysfunctional

32 - Dates & Duelling

Sunday, November 3

The Gryffindor celebration party was in full swing in the common room after their victory against the Slytherins. Harry was surrounded by a mob of people congratulating him, and it was some time before he could try and find Ron. At last, he extricated himself from Romilda Vane, who was hinting heavily that she would like to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with him. As he was ducking toward the drinks table, he walked straight into Ginny.

"Looking for Ron?" she asked, smirking. "He's over there, the filthy hypocrite."

Harry looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.

"It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?" said Ginny dispassionately. She clearly had not forgotten the incident where Ron and Harry had walked in on her snogging Dean. Harry flushed as he remembered the scene. He had never even imagined Ginny in such a way before that. Ginny, still scowling at Ron and mercifully oblivious to Harry's thoughts, continued, "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Harry."

Harry smiled as she walked off to help herself to more butterbeer, ignoring the swooping sensation in his stomach when she had patted him on the arm. He turned away from Ron, just as the portrait hole was closing, a mane of bushy brown hair bobbing out of sight.

Harry left the common room to search for Hermione. He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher's desk alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair.

"Oh, hello, Harry," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practicing."

"They're really good..." said Harry as he walked to stand next to her.

She spoke in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, "Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations."

"Er... does he?" said Harry.

"Don't pretend you didn't see him," said Hermione. "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was he?"

"I s'pose," said Harry, shrugging. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Don't go apologizing for him," she said sharply, her voice regaining her usual bossiness. She looked at Harry and tried to soften her expression. "You should go, Harry. You're missing out on the party."

"I don't want you to miss out on it either," Harry pointed out, as he leaned against the teacher's desk that she was sitting on. "And since you're in no mood to go, I'd rather stay here."

Hermione smiled as she twirled her wand lazily, one of the birds sat on her shoulder, twittering.

"You know, I feel really bad now that I gave you that lavender-scented diary," said Harry after a while.

"Oh, please! I'm not that sentimental. I do love lavender, the flower I mean," she added with a scowl and Harry sniggered.

"Do all girls like lavender? Alicia did too," said Harry absently, failing to notice the curious gleam enter into Hermione's eyes as she asked, "Alicia who?"

"Alicia Bloomwood. The muggle girl I met in France. Surely, I've told you that," asked Harry, feeling a flush creeping up his neck.