Dear Readers,

I realise the characters in last chapter and this one are a bit OOC, just a little. The reason why is because, well, I don't think Harry got to have enough fun, be enough of a kid in the original books (hell, having the weight of the world on your shoulders will do that to a person) so I'm writing a bit more silliness in for him so he can enjoy life a bit more. It tears me up (even though I've been guilty of it myself) to see him suffer nothing but angst, angst, angst—so here's a little bit of tasteful fluff among friends. What's the use in being a teenager if you can't flirt and laugh yourself stupid once in awhile? No use at all, I say. As canon example, I point to book 6, when nearly all the characters went whacko and did things completely out of the ordinary.

Thank you Chan, mya, Macceh, and jessie for your reviews, they meant the world to me. I don't usually plug other stories in my fics but for those of you who like excellent and realistic writing, check out .princess and her story Underneath this Smile. It's heavy and intense, but stick with it. You'll be glad you did.

Enjoy your 2nd update in less than a week!

Rae :)

Hermione to the rescue.

"What're you doing back up here?" she demanded.

Ginny and Harry clapped their hands to their foreheads, exasperated. What a stupid way to continue the conversation. If Ron didn't suspect something was up now, it would be a miracle.

"All done with your robes then?" Hermione added hastily.

If Ron did notice something, he chose not to say anything about it. "Yes," he answered tiredly, "but afterward Mum made me stay and do loads of chores. Just busy-work mostly," Ron complained, clearly disgusted.

They all started to relax as Ron raved about Mrs. Weasley, thanking Merlin for his lack of observational skill and gift of gab.

"'Yes, Mum,'" he said pedantically, "I tell her, 'as a matter of fact the dishes can wash themselves, and the bin can take itself out, but you never let me use a wand'. So then she says, 'well, that's because we don't want you to get expelled from school—'"

"And she's absolutely right," Hermione cut him off imperiously, "because if you got chucked out of Hogwarts, then where would you be?"

Ron rounded on her, "Oh, don't you start, I've had enough lecturing while being with Mum, and I swear I won't be responsible for what happens to you if you keep going—"

"You know, small wonder she kept telling you off," Hermione talked over the top of him as if he hadn't even spoken, "you should be ashamed of yourself. After all, you are a school Prefect. What kind of example would you set for the other students if the Ministry chucked you out on your ear for violating the Underage Decree—"

"Would you just lay off?" Ron pleaded angrily. "I was only joking anyway, I don't really want to be expelled if you haven't noticed."

"No, I haven't noticed," replied Hermione stubbornly, her voice cold. "Breaking rules left and right, at school and at home, it almost makes me regret being your fellow sixth-year Prefect—"

"Great, fine with me! I'll just leave if you're so ashamed to be in my presence! It's not like Mum wanted me to stay up here anyway, just to check and see what the noise was and that we're going to start making dinner in a few minutes. Probably wants me to come back down so she can do some more lecturing, as if I'm not in a lousy enough mood already!" Ron slammed the door and stalked downstairs.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione all sagged and gave great sighs of relief after his depature.

"Ruddy brilliant, distracting him like that, Hermione." Ginny said, slightly breathless. "Although I would've left off the bit where you demanded to know why he was back up here," the redhead folded her arms, "in his own bedroom."

"Yes, well, I noticed the two of you weren't exactly itching to jump into the fray," Hermione huffed. "It was just the fastest thing I could think of that would make him leave." Then she said regretfully, "Still I do hate baiting him like that for no good reason. Most of the time he deserves it, but this time all he did was walk in on us, and he wasn't even going to stay."

"Trust me, he'll get over it," said Ginny, "he always does."

"And unfortunately," Harry added, "the confrontations'll probably just get worse from here on out. I suppose we should be grateful this one didn't last longer," he said grimly.

Poor chap, Harry thought, commiserating. If Ron wasn't shouting at Ginny, he was going to be nagged by Mrs. Weasley or bickering with Hermione. Harry did not envy him. True, Ron should keep his big nose out of Ginny's business, but...

"It'll be all right," said Hermione more positively, "it isn't like I'll always have to scream at him every time we're together; this time I just assumed it was sort of an emergency that he leave straightaway since we hadn't finished our discussion about him," she answered, as if having read Harry's mind.

"Given our reaction when he innocently walked in unannounced just now, I'd say the odds of pulling this deception off for six months aren't only against us, they're downright dismal," Harry said doubtfully.

"No no—see, Harry—we only need to do the going out bit until the end of the summer," Ginny corrected.

"Really?" he said, half-hopefully, half-dejected. "Why's that?" For the first time, Harry was seeing a real chance for their plan, yet at the same time, he hoped Ginny still harboured feelings for him. He was annoyed with himself for feeling that way because boy, did it make things more complicated. And he'd thought his relationship with Cho was impossible to figure out.

"Mostly because we don't want Michael, or anyone else, finding out what we've been up to once we get back to school," Ginny emphasized seriously. "Also, why make this harder on ourselves than it needs to be? No," she shook her head, "we'll just tell Ron we had the typical whirlwind summer romance."

The term "whirlwind" was at least self-explanatory, so Harry didn't have to ask what it meant. His feeling of dread dissipated somewhat after discovering he'd only have to pretend to date Ginny for barely a month. And Hermione was definitely clever enough to think of diversionary tactics spontaneously. Harry wasn't all the unpractised at deception either, even if he admitted it to nobody but himself. Now, the unease in the pit of his stomach was largely due to the fact he would deliberately be tricking someone who was supposed to trust him. Still, it was for Ron's own good. On top of everything, there was a little green monster of envy growing inside of Harry. Did Ginny really not secretly want to date him for real? What exactly did Michael Corner and all those other blokes Ginny dated have that Harry didn't? And why, oh why, were the answers to these questions suddenly of such crucial importance?

"Obviously, we're going to need to work out some more details of the plan," Hermione said, shaking Harry from his revere, "but that's okay. We hope the initial shock of 'finding out' will keep Ron busy for quite some time, so we'll build from there." She faced Harry directly. "Besides, anytime you have a question or need advice, you can always ask us, Harry. Not just about this, but about what-have-you," she gestured aimlessly, "and that includes women," Hermione said kindly.

Harry wanted to point out to her that he wouldn't need to worry about advice at the moment if it weren't for she and Ginny but held his tongue in check. Once again, he took her words in the spirit in which they were meant. However...

"Er, thanks," Harry smiled back at her weakly, "but I probably won't be needing it. After Cho, I've pretty much sworn off dating...for now. And I dunno, asking you two for advice about...females...might be a, a bit awkward."

"Why's that?" asked Hermione, her brow wrinkling.

"Because you're, erm, you know...girls..." he trailed off vaguely, refusing to explain himself any further.

Hermione and Ginny shared a look and giggled softly for a bit. Why did they always do that?

"I see," said Hermione, smiling, "so then you don't want to talk to girls...about other girls?"

"Not to mention it might be a tad—weird—to ask for advice about your love life from your best friend's little sister?" Ginny asked pointedly with her penetrating gaze.

Harry's eyes widened in amazement as he flicked glances repeatedly to the carpet and back. He was sure there was more to Ginny's question than she was letting on. He'd never seen her look at him the way she was now, with what seemed like yearning in her gaze. But Harry would rather face Voldemort 100 more times than ask Ginny what she was really thinking. There was too much at risk.

"Yeah, er..." Harry suddenly remembered he was in a conversation, "...something like that," he mumbled uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at their faces.

"Perfectly understandable," said Hermione.

Still looking at Harry the same way, Ginny approached him and said softly, "You may find yourself wanting to talk about something soon enough—talk about things you can't say to Ron. We just wanna say we're here for you." She placed a hand on his arm. It was as if her touch generated waves of heat all through him...yet it seemed so familiar somehow...how could that be...he'd never liked her this way before... His deja vu overtook him briefly, insisting he and Ginny had talked like this, touched this way, but when? It was making him feel as if he should explain everything to her right here and now—

Finally looking up, he met her eyes. "Right...thank you," he said quietly. It was all he could manage to say. At least until he changed the subject again...the atmosphere had gone from light-hearted to oppressive in an instant.

"So...when do you plan on telling Ron about...us?" Harry asked.

"Assuming he'll talk to us after getting yelled out of his own room," Ginny answered, "probably tonight after dinner. Speaking of which, we should get a move on—Mum most likely wants us downstairs right now to help her."

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione assured, "we can pull this off. It's only for the next four weeks or so."

Hoping she would prove to be right, he nodded as they all turned and walked out the door.

(0) (0) (0)

Dinner was a rather sordid affair. When the trio arrived in the kitchen, Ron looked away. He stomped around whilst they did preparations, violently opening cupboards and drawers, and generally trying to make his bad mood known as noticeably as possible. And he managed to do this without talking even once. All in all, it was a silent treatment loud enough to wake the dead. Harry, Ginny, and Hermione got successively quieter as it wore on, as if doing so would somehow balance out the uneven noise leve between Ron and the rest of them.

Mr. Weasley walked in when they were finishing transferring everything from the counters, bent over to say, "Hullo, everyone," as he kissed his wife on the nose and walked over to sit at the head of the table.

Mistakenly thinking that Ron's rotten mood was merely because he had to do extra chores, Mrs. Weasley said sternly, "That's no way to behave, Ronald Bilius Weasley. Just because you're angry doesn't mean you should take it out on everybody else by not talking to them. Now act your age, and communicate with your sister and guests."

The three darted quick looks at each other guiltily behind Ron's back. Ron drew in a breath, flexed his fingers once, and turned around with a big soppy smile on his face.

"Right then, Mum," he said in a falsely cheerful voice. "Shall we have dinner now?" he asked, striding passed them to his chair a bit too jauntily.

As the rest of them picked their way over more carefully, Mr. Weasley threw a questioning glance at Mrs. Weasley and tipped his head toward Ron. She closed her eyes and shook her head, mouthing the word "later" as the group took out chairs and sat down.

However rude Ron may have been when fixing dinner, as they ate he seemed to want to make it all up to them. In spades. The only real conversation happening was between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but Ron was constantly punctuating their discussion with overly loud exclamations. He never missed an opportunity to be annoyingly happy to anyone, saying things in a too-hearty tone like, "Do be a good ol' chum and pass the butter, will you Hermione?", "Ginny, my favourite sister, would you please hand me the potatoes?" and "Harry, mate, what do you think of this treacle pudding? Isn't it spiffing?" It was much like having dinner with a game show host.

Harry had actually been quite hungry before he came downstairs, having sweated off most of his energy during the day. Mrs. Weasley was also an excellent cook and he always looked forward to her cuisine. This time, even though everything was delicious as usual, Harry had no taste for it and was playing with his food by the end of dinner. Ron's abysmal behaviour toward them had gotten very old; Harry noticed his wasn't the only appetite that had been driven away. Hermione, Harry, and Ginny hadn't been that bad to him—they certainly didn't deserve this continued treatment. Their guilt had all but worn off by this point. Now the situation had come full circle—Ron was giving them the silent treatment.

Taking Mr. Weasley's cue, they all stood up and began clearing the table. Ron intercepted them.

"Oh no," he said in his disingenuous, over-everythinged voice, "I'll take care of this mates—after all, you're guests. You can go with them too, Ginny," he said, bowing exaggeratedly at her.

Looking very much like she wanted to hex Ron, Ginny instead turned to Mrs. Weasley and questioned through clenched teeth, "Mum...?"

"Don't let me stop you," said her mother, "I think Mr. Deplorable needs to stay and clean up," she said pointedly, placing a warning hand on Ron's shoulder. He smiled sickeningly, as if he had swallowed an entire bottle of Skele-Gro.

Mrs. Weasley looked at Hermione and Ginny meaningfully from behind Ron and mouthed the words "Have you...?" Ginny barely nodded, flicking her eyes at Harry and mouthed, "he knows." Harry knew that this was Ginny telling her mother they'd explained to Harry about Bill and Fleur. "Right," said Mrs. Weasley suddenly, "you lot can nip upstairs." Needing no extra prompting, they turned and strode quickly up the staircase.

Ron called out to them, "See you all later!" in a falsely sweet farewell tone, as if they were leaving on a luxury cruise instead of just going upstairs. Harry half-expected him to throw in an equally obnoxious "Bon voyage!" but he didn't. Thankfully.

Once they were far enough up the steps, Hermione grimly said, "He did that on purpose. He's avoiding us."

"Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual," Ginny replied, clearly agitated.

"If I ever act that immature, please tell me so I can 'off' myself immediately," added Harry darkly. "Put me out of my misery."

Hermione snorted. "If we were to do that, you would've had to nix yourself ages ago," she said sarcastically. Harry was saved the task of his scathing retort on account they had reached the door to Ron's bedroom. He also didn't want somebody else mad at him; more than enough fights were going on right now. No sense in picking another one.

When they were through the door, they all flung themselves onto the bed, making it creak in protest. The three were quiet for a long while, each contemplating what they were to say to Ron when he suddenly reappeared. They slowly slid off the bed, facing him.

Then he burst out with, "Just how stupid do you think I am?"