The Source of Magic

Taking Umbridge

Chapter 8 ~ Taking Umbridge

Harry saw no more of Umbridge. She didn't dare to show her ugly face in the Great Hall again, and Harry wondered if she was still at Hogwarts. If she was, he had to be careful. He didn't trust her, and with the special powers Fudge had given her, she might try something. Unfortunately, he could not talk to Hermione or Ron about it, as he was supposed to be feuding with them. Their pretence of being together was not very convincing … well, they did spend a lot of time together, but it looked like all they did was argue. It looked pretty funny sometimes, seeing them sitting together in the Gryffindor common room, Ron with his arm around Hermione's shoulder, and the pair of them going at it hammer and tongs. Harry tried to avoid the Gryffindor common room as much as possible these days because he inevitably found himself surrounded by girls. Lavender and Parvati were the worst; whenever he sat in an armchair, they would immediately materialise, one on each arm, posing provocatively and almost sitting in his lap, batting their eyelids idiotically. How Ron could have put up with Lavender for so long in sixth year was quite beyond him.

Then there was Ginny — he was also supposed to be on the outs with her. He really missed her. Their plans of sneaking off under his Invisibility Cloak had so far come to nothing. Ginny was very visibly with Neville, and Harry was not sure that Neville was just acting, either. If he was, it was a very convincing act. Neville had confided nothing in Harry about it being a charade, and Harry wasn't going to be the first one to bring up the subject. And he couldn't ask Ginny or Hermione about it because he wasn't supposed to be talking to either of them. All-in-all, he was finding it very frustrating, and feeling quite isolated and alone these days.

It was almost two weeks into the term already, and although he'd had his first duelling practice with Lupin and Tonks a few days ago, he had not yet started training with Jason; he was getting impatient. There was nothing to do but wait … wait and try to keep up with all the schoolwork which just seemed to pile higher and higher. He really missed having Hermione to help him and read through his assignments and correct them for him. At least Ron had Hermione's help, or could have, if they stopped arguing long enough.

Harry had taken to sitting with the younger students at mealtimes; it was the only way to avoid Lavender, Parvati, and the other Gryffindor girls who were constantly trying to ambush him. One evening while he was eating, an origami-like bird fluttered gracefully down beside his plate. The first year sitting next to him tried to pick it up, but it fluttered out of reach. Harry picked it up with ease.

“Must be for me,” he said with a grin. All the little first years were looking very interested. Obviously it was a message, but Harry decided to wait until he was somewhere more private to open it. Maybe it was from Ginny, he thought hopefully as he put it in his pocket. Or perhaps Hermione, he reflected, remembering how fond she was of conjuring birds.

Harry waited until he was out of the Great Hall to unfold the origami bird. It was a message from Jason: “Harry, come to the Potions classroom after dinner tonight. If anyone asks you awkward questions, say you are serving detention with me, J.” Harry was excited; at last something was happening. He felt as far away as ever from figuring out how he was going to defeat Voldemort. Well, maybe tonight he would make a start. Harry headed down the staircase to the dungeons. Just as he was turning down the corridor towards the Potions classroom, he heard someone mutter a spell from behind him. The next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back and looking up into Umbridge's ugly, gloating, toad-like face.

“Well, well, well. It looks like I've caught myself public enemy number one. Get to your feet, Potter, and come with me,” she said, grinning smugly. “We're going to have a pleasant little chat in my office, over a nice cup of tea, and you can tell me what you were doing sneaking around in the dungeons — amongst other things. I'm sure you know a great many things of interest to the Ministry.”

Harry rose unsteadily to his feet. He found his hands magically bound behind his back. Umbridge pointed her wand menacingly at his chest. He had no doubt that Umbridge's cup of tea would be heavily laced with Veritaserum. Damn it, he was trapped. Umbridge might even be planning on spiriting him away to the Ministry of Magic. Fudge would love to hand him over to Voldemort as a peace offering. Umbridge was looking very, very pleased with herself. This could not be good.

Suddenly, from nowhere, Jason appeared behind Umbridge, who immediately crumpled in a heap on the stone floor. Harry found his hands were free.

“I was expecting something like this,” said Jason casually. “I've been keeping an eye on her. Please wait in my classroom. I'll be with you in a few minutes.” He touched his foot to Umbridge's shoulder, and the two of them disappeared as mysteriously as he had appeared.

Harry entered the Potions classroom and closed the door behind him. He immediately drew his wand and looked around alertly; he could hear someone moving about, but the classroom was empty. Cautiously he crept towards the half-open door at the other end of the room. He remembered Snape had his office and personal potions laboratory in there. It was where he kept his private stores — which they had burgled in their second year, for the Polyjuice Potion ingredients. Carefully peering around past the door he saw someone bent over a cauldron, stirring.

“Hermione! What are you doing here?” asked Harry in surprise.

“Hi, Harry,” said Hermione, looking up briefly. “Jason said you were coming. But he suddenly disappeared.”

“Yeah, and luckily for me, too. Umbridge snuck up on me and stunned me, just down the corridor; she must have been following me. She was about to march me off to her office when Jason appeared out of nowhere and got her. Then he and Umbridge just disappeared. Hermione, I thought it wasn't possible to Apparate at Hogwarts?”

“It's not,” she said, while continuing her stirring. “He uses a different kind of magic — I have no idea what — which allows him to pass through magical wards, just like when he visited us at the Burrow.”

“Yeah, that's right,” said Harry, sitting down in an old wooden chair. “He said he'd be back soon. I wonder what he's going to do with Umbridge? Do you think he'll kill her?”

“Of course not; it's not his style,” replied Hermione. “I just hope it's something very unpleasant,” she added with a grin.

“What are you making?” asked Harry.

“Wolfsbane Potion.”

“Wow, I thought it was really, really difficult.”

“Well, yes, it is. That's why Jason had us attempting the first stage of brewing it in Potions. He wanted to find out if I was capable of helping him with it.”

“Really?” asked Harry, impressed.

“His magical power does not help him much when it comes to Potions, and although he was very good at it when he was at Hogwarts, he hasn't done much since. He's never made Wolfsbane. In fact, the number of witches and wizards who have succeeded in brewing it can be counted on one hand.”

“And he thinks you could join them?” asked Harry, grinning.

“Well, he tested our potion from class and said it was perfect for the first stage. That's what's in this cauldron; he asked me to keep working on it. It's a long and complicated process; almost a fortnight of continuous work. He thinks I might do a better job of brewing it than him,” she said, blushing. “But he's supervising me. He has some magical way of testing the potion at each stage that I've never heard of. So far, it's on target for the full moon next week.”

“So have you been coming down here at night?”

“Sometimes; or I pop in at lunch time, to check on it or add another ingredient.”

“I hope Ron knows … otherwise he might think you're sneaking off with someone — you know how, err, jealous he can get.”

“Well, of course I told him. And believe me, I know exactly how jealous that immature git can get. What do you think we're arguing about all the time? Every time I have a Head Boy and Girl meeting, or even a two-minute conversation with Anthony, Ron behaves as if it's a lovers' tryst. And when I work with Anthony or any of the other Ravenclaws on an assignment in the library, he gets all surly and sulks.”

“Just the Ravenclaw wizards, or the witches as well?” asked Harry with a grin.

“I don't have much to do with the Ravenclaw witches — they're a studious bunch, but not particularly brilliant. Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, and Michael Corner are the three brightest seventh-years, so —”

“After you, Hermione,” said Harry with a grin. “And from what you say, they are after you — aren't they?”

“Well, my supposedly being with Ron has dampened their ardour, somewhat — not that Ron would notice. I sometimes work with them on assignments, and just seeing me with anyone makes Ron jealous — he'd be jealous if he caught me talking with Nearly Headless Nick, the puerile prat.”

“Well, err, maybe you should take it as a compliment, Hermione. I mean it shows how much —”

“… of a juvenile jerk, he is,” finished Hermione angrily. “He can never decide whether he wants to be with me or not. And quite frankly, I don't want to be with someone who gets jealous for no reason and who throws a tantrum whenever I go near another wizard. All he wants to do is pretend we're together — not actually … err, you know, err, be together. He's driving me crazy, Harry. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep up the pretence.”

Harry didn't know what to say; it certainly looked hopeless. Hermione turned her attention back to the cauldron, and Harry gazed idly around the room at all the jars filled with strange objects. He didn't want to think too much about what they were, or might once have been. Harry jumped when Jason suddenly appeared no more than two feet in front of him.

“I wish you wouldn't keep doing that,” said Harry. “Well, not unless I've just been hexed by Umbridge. So what did you do with her?”

“I left her deep in the Forbidden Forest without a wand or any recollection of what she was doing tonight after dinner.”

“Do you think she'll be safe?” asked Hermione.

“Probably,” replied Jason, seemingly unconcerned, “as long as she stays away from the Acromantulas. But I left her a long way from their colony.”

“Pity,” said Harry.

“And how is my star Potions pupil getting on?” asked Jason, staring fixedly into Hermione's cauldron. It almost seemed as if he were in a trance. “Ah, perfect, Hermione. I think you are going to be every bit as brilliant at the art of potion-making as Harry's mother.”

Then turning back to Harry, he said, “We're going to dive right into it tonight, Harry; we don't have time to waste. Hermione, since you are finished with the Wolfsbane for tonight, you can sit in with us and do the exercises with Harry, if you like. But please understand that I have to give him my complete attention.” Hermione nodded enthusiastically. Jason glanced over towards his heavy wooden desk, and it disappeared to be replaced by what looked like three large squishy Muggle bean bags — the sort of thing Aunt Petunia wouldn't allow anywhere near her house. Jason sat cross-legged on one and said, “Sit comfortably in a position you can maintain without moving for some time, Harry.”

Harry massaged the big bean bag until he got it into a good shape to support his back, while Hermione was putting away the potions things and covering the cauldron.

“Tonight, I'm going to teach you a very basic meditation exercise that is used in some eastern traditions to still the mind and focus it. While it is very simple, properly practiced, it can take you a very long way. Close your eyes and focus your attention on your nostrils; observe the sensation of the air passing in and out as you breathe. Don't try to regulate your breathing, let the body breathe as fast or slow, as deep or shallow, as it pleases. Just observe the sensation of the air entering and leaving the body.”

At first, Harry thought it was easy, but in less than a minute he found his mind straying. Each time, Jason would say, “Attention!” and he would return his attention to the sensation of the air going in and out. Jason was obviously monitoring his mind which was a great benefit, because he would catch the moment Harry's mind began to wander and bring it straight back to the breathing. After some time, Harry found his attention remained effortlessly on the breathing. He lost track of time. It seemed as if he was breathing very slowly. He felt completely calm; it was a blissful feeling. Apart from the sensation of the air at the nostrils, he had no awareness of his body.

“Who is aware of the breathing?” asked Jason softly. “Don't look for a verbal answer; don't try to understand or define it; just feel it … just be it.”

Harry had a sudden sense of being aware of the breathing; yet it wasn't him — he wasn't there at all. There was just the feeling of awareness, of knowingness, and there was nothing else. No Jason, no Harry, just this huge, immense sense of awareness that seemed to go on and on forever. He was not separate from it; he was part of it or it was part of him … he was It!

“Open your eyes, Harry.” Jason was smiling at him, gently nodding. “That is the Source. You sensed it too, Hermione.”

Harry saw Hermione smiling radiantly from the other bean bag. He supposed he looked the same. He had never felt such peace, contentment, such …

“Love,” said Jason, finishing his thought. “We can feel the Source, but we cannot define it or describe it. The closest word for how it feels is Love.”

Harry and Hermione both nodded; that was exactly what it felt like. Neither of them wanted to speak or do anything that might break the marvellous spell. To Harry, Jason's office looked different. Everything was somehow alive. Even the chairs and the stone walls seemed to pulsate with a kind of energy … a life-force.

“The Source is in everything. It is everything,” said Jason. “When you connect to the Source, you connect to the whole universe, which is why everything looks so vibrant and alive. It is natural to want to hold on to this wonderful feeling, to try not to lose it. But it will gradually fade as you resume your normal activities … although not completely. Each time you do the meditation exercise, each time you touch the Source, it will become stronger and more enduring. Eventually, it will remain with you, and be accessible whenever you wish to touch it.”

Harry and Hermione remained silent, luxuriating in the warm afterglow. Jason continued, “When you touch the Source, you have immense magical power. You have no need of a wand or an incantation. You simply will the magic to happen and it does. For example: Harry, try levitating that large oak cupboard. Hermione, you can try the bookshelf. No wands, no spells, just will them to slowly rise up to touch the ceiling, nice and straight, so that nothing is disturbed or falls.”

The cupboard and the bookshelf rose smoothly upwards until they nudged the ceiling. “Very good, and now gently back down again.” Harry and Hermione returned them to their places.

“What you just did is exactly the same thing, the same magic you learned in first-year Charms with the Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa. Of course, it was only a small feather you were levitating then, and you used your wand and the incantation. A wand is a very powerful means of focussing and directing magical power. The incantation also focuses magical power. Being uttered century upon century probably imbues it with a certain vibration or energy. More importantly, it gives the caster confidence that the spell, when correctly performed, will work — because it has always worked.

“But wands and incantations are unnecessary; they are merely magical aids. The crucial factor is belief or faith. The one thing all religions and non-scientific belief systems have in common is their own clearly-defined set of beliefs. If people believe, if they have faith, then miracles, magic, whatever, can happen. They all have their rituals, prayers, chants, sacred objects or practices, and so on, just as we have wands and incantations. These things all, no doubt, act similarly, to focus mental energy and give people confidence that their practices will work. Once you understand the truly awesome power of the human mind and learn to connect directly to the Source, you can dispense with wands, incantations, prayers, chants, and all the rest of it.”

“That power,” said Hermione, no longer able to contain herself, “comes from the Source itself, doesn't it?”

“Of course. We have that power because we are part of the Source, as you both experienced tonight. Having experienced it, you now know it, and that knowledge will give you the confidence, the faith, to use the power directly. You still have a lot more work to do, to be able to connect to the Source at will, but you have made an excellent start tonight. Practice the meditation exercise on your own. Now you know how to bring your mind back to the breathing, you can do it without me reminding you. When you notice the mind stray, immediately bring it back, until eventually it remains fixed there. Try to do the meditation as you lie in bed each night before falling asleep. You will awaken wonderfully refreshed in the morning.”

“Goodness, it's almost ten o'clock,” said Hermione, “an hour after curfew.”

“Not to worry,” said Jason. “After your run-in with Umbridge tonight, Harry, we need to find a secret route for you from Gryffindor Tower, so you can come and go unobserved — at least until you are powerful enough to learn how to dematerialise and re-materialise your way about the castle.”

“Is that what you do when it looks like you're Apparating?” asked Harry.

“Yes, but it's more useful than Apparation. Wards do not stop you, and it's instantaneous. However, if you want, you can dematerialise without re-materialising, which is great for spying.”

“Wow,” said Harry, impressed.

“Just before you go, I want to teach you a spell that, had you known it, would have protected you from Umbridge's hex tonight. This is one I learned from a medicine man when I was on walkabout in Australia with a tribe of Aborigines. He called it the Boomerang Shield because it sends your opponents' magic back at them, just like a boomerang. A wand is not required; it is a non-directional spell that you cast upon yourself rather than another. You simply focus your mind on your body, then extend your attention outwards a foot or so, and imagine a membrane surrounding you, shimmering like the surface of a lake that reflects everything that touches it. Say the word boomerang as you visualise this shield. The spell requires a fair bit of magical energy, but I think you should both be able to do it now. Let's give it a try….

“Stand about fifteen feet apart, and cast the shield. OK? Now, start flinging hexes at each other — nothing too nasty, please.”

Harry and Hermione followed Jason's instructions. It looked as if they were incompetent novices because none of their magic seemed to be working.

“So the shields also protect us from our own rebounding spells,” observed Hermione.

“Exactly,” replied Jason. “End yours, with a nonverbal Finite Incantatum, and cast a spell on Harry.”

Hermione immediately began floating upwards, having attempted a Levitation Charm on Harry. “Err, if I do a Finite Incantatum on Harry, will it rebound and let me down gradually?” asked Hermione nervously, as she floated towards the roof.

“It will let you down, but not gradually; you'll come crashing down in a heap on the floor,” said Jason with a laugh. “Just use the same method on Harry as you did to gently lower the bookcase. Of course, you will need to imagine that he's the one floating in the air, but I'm sure you can do it.”

Hermione floated gradually back to the ground, her face a picture of intense concentration.

“Very good. Now, just before you let your shield down, Harry, I'll show you another use for it,” said Jason, grabbing a book from his desk and hurling it at Harry. The book rebounded from Harry's shield and flew straight back at Jason, who caught it deftly.

“That would be a great one to use against Bludgers,” said Harry, impressed.

“Needless to say, you will not be using this charm for Quidditch,” said Jason, grinning. “When you are able to deeply connect to the Source, you will even be able to hold the shield for long periods of time and project it beyond your own body, to also protect someone standing beside you. I would like you to keep this shield a secret. I was going to suggest you share it with Ron, but perhaps not yet. As you are doubtlessly aware, he is going through a spot of emotional strife right now.”

Hermione blushed, and Harry snorted at Jason's understatement.

“I am not sure if he can be relied upon to act rationally at the moment; so it may be best not to confide too much in him, until he sorts himself out. I leave it to your discretion.”

“What about when I'm duelling with Professor Lupin and Tonks?” asked Harry.

“Definitely not!” said Jason. “Firstly, I want to keep the Boomerang Shield a secret until you really need it. You know the rule: Tell as few people as possible. Secondly, I understand your private lessons with Remus and Tonks are designed to sharpen your duelling skills. The idea is to make it challenging for you.”

“Well, it is challenging!” exclaimed Harry. “Especially when it's two against one. Professor Lupin is really powerful, and Tonks was trained as an Auror.”

“Just keep practicing the meditation exercise, and you'll be surprised how quickly your magical power increases. Before you begin duelling, calm yourself, become aware of your breathing, and reach out to the Source. Oh, and there is another spell that you may find invaluable when duelling, but I doubt Remus and Tonks would appreciate you using it on them.”

“What is it?” asked Harry.

“Incendio,” said Jason.

“We know that one,” said Harry. “What do you want me to do, set fire to my opponent?”

“No,” said Jason. “That would not be nice, even if you could, but all you would probably do is singe their eyebrows. People are not made of wood — but wands are,” he added with a grin.

“Oh,” said Hermione. “I see what you mean. If you set your opponent's wand on fire, they'll be disabled — unless they are powerful enough to use wandless magic. So why don't people use it in duelling?”

“Because a wand is a very small target, and when duelling, it is usually in motion. Aiming your wand at an opponent's moving wand, and hitting it, would require a great deal of luck. But, with wandless magic, it is the mind that aims. You simply look at the object of your spell and even if it is moving, as long as you keep your eye on it, you will hit it. As your power grows, you will develop the ability do wandless and nonverbal magic.”

Hermione looked anxiously at her watch again.

“Right then, let's find you a safe route home,” said Jason, taking the hint. He closed his eyes and seemed to be visualising something. “Yes, that's it … perfect!”

“What were you doing?” asked Hermione curiously.

“Well, you know the map Harry's father and his friends made, the Marauder's Map?”

“Did they let you use it?” asked Harry.

Jason laughed. “Magical maps have been around a long time. Remus asked me if I knew the spells to make one. I found them in an ancient text in the Restricted Section. More recently, I discovered that I can use the same magic to project a magical map of my surroundings in my mind. It's very useful. That's how I spotted Umbridge ambushing you tonight.”

“Wow,” said Harry. “I'd sure like to know how to do that.”

Jason smiled. “So much to learn, and so little time … speaking of which, we better get you back to Gryffindor Tower. Now, what we need is a door … right here, I think,” said Jason pointing to the wall. A handsome oak door, a perfect match for the one to the classroom, appeared in the wall and gently swung open to reveal a passage. “That should do nicely; come on,” he said, leading the way through the door into the passage he had just made. It was lit by sconces and connected to an existing passage into which Jason led them. Eventually they came to a concealed doorway which Harry recognised; he was now on familiar territory. When they arrived at the hanging that separated them from the main corridor to their common room, Jason asked them to stop.

“There are still people about in your common room. It wouldn't do for the two of you to arrive together,” said Jason. “You go first, Harry. Hermione, give him a few minutes before following. Goodnight,” said Jason before vanishing.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

The following Saturday morning was the first Gryffindor Quidditch practice of the year. The six remaining members of the team met to choose a new captain after Harry announced his resignation, and the choice of Ron was unanimous. Harry was happy for his friend; he knew it was something Ron had always dreamed of. Ron immediately announced Quidditch practice and tryouts. All the existing players would have to convince him they deserved their place on the team. He seemed fired up with missionary zeal and could talk about nothing but Quidditch to whoever would listen. Hermione flatly refused and chose to spend her evenings in the library. Luckily for Harry, he and Ron were not supposed to be talking to each other, but Harry was starting to suspect that Ron was going to turn out to be even more fanatical than Oliver Wood.

There were several new hopefuls for the chaser and beater positions, but no one was interested — or perhaps, dared — to try out for Seeker or Keeper. Harry let a Snitch loose and spent the time flying about at top speed, high above the pitch, searching for it. He was enjoying the exhilaration of flying again. The Snitch was playing hard-to-get today, and it took at least thirty minutes before Harry spotted a golden gleam out of the corner of his eye and hurtled towards it. Just as he reached his hand out for it, a maroon blur shot right in front of him. Looking up he saw a triumphant Ginny Weasley holding the struggling Snitch.

“Hey, that's not fair,” complained Harry, “I didn't know I had competition!”

Ginny released the Snitch which quickly disappeared and flew down alongside Harry and gave him a long kiss.

“Careful!” said Harry, who was starting to slide sideways. “If you keep that up, I'll fall off my broom. Do you think anyone can see us way up here?”

“No, we're way too high; they might know it's us, but from the ground we could just as well be arguing. I've missed you,” she said, giving him another kiss.

“Yeah, me too,” said Harry. “Have the Chaser tryouts finished then?”

“Yep, it's Demelza, Dean, and me. I was the only one who managed to score on Ron — and then only once. He was unbelievable. I don't think he's going to have any more problems with confidence now that he's captain.”

“No, but the rest of us will — big problems — he's going to be a total slave driver.”

Ginny laughed. “Well, he better not take his personal frustrations out on the team, or he might get hit by one of my Bat-Bogey Hexes.”

“Personal frustrations?”

“With Hermione, I mean. Surely you've noticed that it's not going well. The stupid git — all he needs to do is give her good snog — instead of all this pretending and p***y-footing about. Why don't you try to get him aside at the end of practice; you can pretend you need to talk about captain stuff or something. Just tell him to get on with it, the prat. Hermione's losing patience with him — and I don't blame her, either.”

“Well, OK,” said Harry reluctantly. “I'll give it a shot, but I'm not too hopeful. I think Ron needs a few more years to grow up.”

“Well, Hermione won't wait forever for the immature git, that's for sure. Anyway, speaking of snogging, how about we sneak off after tea tonight? I'll meet you in the passageway behind the tapestry that leads to Gryffindor Tower — you know, the one on the second floor.”

“You mean the one where Ron and I surprised you and Dean last year?” asked Harry resentfully.

“Yep, that's the one — though it's not the best of places for a snog — it lacks privacy. But don't worry, we'll go somewhere under your cloak, I know some much better places,” said Ginny, grinning. Then she gave Harry a kiss that made him forget all about Dean Thomas, before disappearing in a dive back towards the Quidditch pitch, leaving Harry clinging desperately to his broom.

The training session dragged on and on. Having settled on the same team as last year, except for Dean Thomas replacing the departed Katie Bell, Ron was putting them through a gruelling practice session, and it wasn't until Ginny pointed out that they'd almost missed lunch that he agreed to let them go.

“Err, Ron, there's some organisational stuff I need to tell you about now that you're captain. Would you mind waiting up a bit?” asked Harry, as Ron was about to leave the changing room. Peakes and Coote, the Beaters, were still changing, and Harry was wondering how he was going to bluff until they left. But he needn't have worried. Ron immediately launched into an animated monologue of his plans for future training sessions; all Harry had to do was nod occasionally. The problem came with getting Ron to stop once the Beaters were gone and they were alone.

“Ron, please, shut-up!” yelled Harry, finally in exasperation. “This is not about Quidditch at all — that was just a pretext to get you alone. We're not supposed to be talking to each other — remember? This is about the only chance I have, so will you please forget about Quidditch for a minute and listen?”

“What?” asked Ron, baffled. Harry had finally gotten through to him. “What are you on about then?”

“Hermione,” said Harry. “Hermione — remember her? I know she's not on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but I'm sure you know who I'm talking about.”

“There's no need getting all smart-arsed with me, just because I've demonstrated how a Quidditch practice ought to be run,” snapped Ron. “Anyway, what about Hermione?”

“Do you want to be with her? Really with her?” asked Harry, deciding on the direct approach.

“What are you talking about?” asked Ron uncomfortably.

“Ron, I don't know how I can say this any plainer. Do you want to be her boyfriend? Do you want her to be your girlfriend?”

Ron just stood there, his eyes moving randomly around the changing room, looking everywhere but at Harry. Finally, he looked resentfully at Harry. “What business is it of yours — are you missing snogging her? Do you two want to get back together again?”

“Ron, stop being a stupid i***t!” yelled Harry angrily. “First of all, you know the two of us being together was just a sham — for Ginny's sake — so she wouldn't be targeted. Can you remember that part of it? Secondly, we had to do that bust-up in the Great Hall so Hermione wouldn't become a target. Do you remember that part of it? We can hardly pretend to be back together again, now can we? And, in case you forgot, it's your sister Ginny I like!”

“Will you stop talking to me like I'm some kind of moron,” grumbled Ron sulkily.

“Well, stop acting like one!” snapped Harry. “You're supposed to be acting as if you're dating Hermione, but all the pair of you do is argue. How do you expect anyone to believe the two of you are together?”

“Well, as I recall, it takes two to argue. So why aren't you having this conversation with Hermione?”

“She says the arguments are because you get jealous every time she goes near another wizard.”

“Well, if we're pretending to be together, she shouldn't be going off with that Goldstein git all the time. And she shouldn't be spending all her time in the library flirting with him and Corner and that other Ravenclaw jerk … what's his name? Coot?”

“Boot. And she's not flirting with anyone; she's doing schoolwork with them — assignments, research, that kind of stuff. You know how serious Hermione is about her studies. The Ravenclaw wizards are the best students in our year after Hermione, so it's only natural that she wants to work with them.”

“Yeah, because I'm not bright enough for her,” said Ron, looking away.

Harry suspected he had stumbled upon the source of Ron's insecurity about Hermione. “Actually, Ron, you are probably just as bright as those Ravenclaws — you could probably beat the lot of them at wizard chess — it's just that you don't take your studies seriously, and they do — and Hermione sure does.”

Harry could tell from Ron's face that he was not convinced. Maybe it came from having five older brothers who had all been successful in their own ways. Maybe it was his fault for being the famous Harry Potter, who had survived Voldemort as a baby, who had been on the house Quidditch team since first year, and Tri-Wizard champion. When the two of them were together, Harry got all the attention. Sometimes it seemed like Ron was almost invisible. It was hardly surprising after six years that he had such an inferiority complex — apart from Quidditch, where he had finally come into his own — and that had taken a couple of years. Ron obviously felt intimidated by Hermione's formidable intellect and felt like he didn't measure up. He just plodded along in class, while she shone, and her association with the best and brightest of the wizards was just the thing to set off his feelings of insecurity.

“Look Ron, if you want Hermione, then you'll just have to take a risk. Ginny seems pretty sure Hermione wanted to be with you at the start of the year —”

“What do mean wanted?”

“Well, you've really pissed her off, mate. I think she expected more than just the pretence of being together … but you blew it.”

“Well, she could have said something, if that's what she wanted. Then I'd have known for sure,” said Ron.

“Well, maybe Hermione's not all that confident about your feelings for her. She hasn't had much experience with boys and dating and stuff. She's never even had a boyfriend —”

“Yeah, what about that Krum git?”

“That doesn't count. She went to the Yule Ball with him, and that was about it.”

Ron fumed silently. Harry realised that Ron still hadn't forgiven Hermione for going to the ball with Victor Krum three years ago. He shook his head.

“So, is she a good snog, then?” asked Ron peevishly.

“You'll have to find that out for yourself,” said Harry, grabbing his things and leaving Ron to stew.