Fallen Angel

Chapter Two: Fallen Mighty

Harry was sitting with Ginny in the Gryffindor common room, in front of the massive fireplace, which had a roaring fire within. Draco had gone down to Hogsmeade on a secret mission, in order to get a table for two at Fantastic Fondue, the newest restaurant in the wizarding village, for a romantic Valentine's Day dinner with Ginny. As Harry poured over his charms homework and Ginny her transfiguration essay, Harry found his mind slowly beginning to drift towards thoughts of a certain potions master, and how he had used him as a template for wanking since term had begun, when suddenly, Ron came barreling in through the portrait hole like a bat out of hell, a stricken look upon his face.

"Ron?" Ginny asked, watching as her brother flew into their midst, and all but threw himself down upon the couch beside Harry.

"Later, Gin," Ron said quickly, turning to look at his best friend. "Mate, I need your help," he said, and Harry, begrudgingly, put aside his copy of The Standard Book of Spells – Grade 6 by Miranda Goshawk and looking over at Ron.

"What is it?" he asked, crossing his arms, and attempting to ignore the smirk Ginny was giving him from over her copy of Intermediate Transfiguration, which she had inherited from Fred and when he'd decided to leave Hogwarts, as Ron had gotten George's copy.

"It's 'Mione," Ron said, and Ginny's eyes immediately snapped up.

"Please tell me that you didn't have another falling out over Ancient Runes!" she said, her textbook falling off her lap as she launched to her feet. "I know full well that you like using that class as a glorified naptime, Ronald Weasley, but it means so much to Hermione, and another falling out could be dire—"

"No, Gin, I swear, it wasn't like that," Ron said quickly, shooting Harry a glare as his best friend chuckled at his antics. "It's not funny! I left her in the library looking over her copy of Spellman's Syllabary, and all seemed fine..."

"Well, then what's the problem?" Harry asked, spreading his hands. "Can't help you if you don't give us a little insight here, mate."

"It's not an extreme problem," Ron muttered, scuffing his trainer against the carpeted floor of the common room.

"Well," Ginny said, huffing as she put herself back into the chair she'd been occupying, "you should've told us that beforehand." She continued tsk-ing to herself, picking up her textbook and scanning a section that would likely prove to be beneficial for her essay.

"I want to ask 'Mione out," Ron said then, and Harry's eyes widened, while Ginny dropped her book a second time.

"What?!" Ginny demanded.

"Sorry for the blunt delivery," Ron said, throwing up his hands, "but it's true. I've wanted to ask her out since everything happened with Krum at the Yule Ball last Christmas, but I just didn't know how to do it..."

"You do realize what day it is, don't you, mate?" Harry asked.

Ron deflated visibly then. "Yeah, Valentine's Day, which means it'll be too late to get a table at Madam Puddifoot's, and that's exactly what 'Mione deserves..."

Harry sighed testily for a moment, before whipping out his wand and waving it then, and recalled hanging out at the Burrow last summer with Ron and Hermione, and just laughing from within Ron's bedroom, amid a fire they likely shouldn't have conjured. "Expecto Patronum," he said, and Prongs immediately made himself known from the tip of Harry's wand, swathed in his typical silver light. "Hey, Prongs," he said, and the stag bowed to him, while Ginny reached out and petted him, much to the deer's delight, and Ron sat there, wide-eyed. "Please deliver a message to Madam Puddifoot for me," he said, and the deer bowed a second time. "Good afternoon, Madam Puddifoot, this is Harry Potter. If it isn't too much trouble, I would like to make a reservation on behalf of my two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, if it isn't objectionable to you. I await your reply."