Dawn Rivera

Sectusempra

Exhausted but delighted with his night's work, Harry tells Danny, Ron, Hermione and I everything that happened during next morning's Charms lesson. We are all impressed by the way he wheedled the memory from Slughorn and positively awed when he tells us about Voldemort's Horcruxes and Dumbledore's promise to take Harry along, should he find another one.

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

"Ron, you're making it snow," says Hermione patiently, grabbing his wrist and redirecting his wand away from the ceiling from which, sure enough, large white flakes have started to fall. Lavender Brown, I notice, glares at Hermione from a neighbouring table through very red eyes smug Hermione immediately lets go of Ron's arm.

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

He brushes some of the fake snow off Hermione's shoulder. Lavender bursts into tears. Ron looks immensely guilty and turns his back on her.

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

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

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

"Coward," I say, though I feel amused. "Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Misty and Michael split up too. And Ginny and Dean, Harry."

There is a rather knowing look in my eye as I tell him that, but Harry merely kisses my forehead and laces his fingers through mine. I rest my head on his shoulder, trying to quite the flickering green shakes slithering in my belly.

Danny keeps his face immobile and his voice indifferent and asks, "How come?"

"Oh, something really silly...she said she 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 glance over at Dean on the other side of the classroom. He certainly looks unhappy.

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

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

"The Quidditch team," I say. "If Ginny and Dean aren't speaking..."

"Oh - oh yeah," says Danny.

"Flitwick," says Ron in a warning tone. The tiny little Charms master is bobbing his way towards us and Hermione and I are the only ones who have managed to turn our vinegar into wine; our glass flasks are full of deep crimson liquid, whereas the contents of Harry's, Danny's and Ron's are still murky brown.

"Now, now, boys," squeaks Professor Flitwick reproachfully. "A little less talk, a little more action...let me see you try..."

Together they raise their wands, concentrating with all their might, and point them at their flasks. Harry's and Danny's vinegar turns to ice; Ron's flask explodes.

"Yes...for homework..." says Professor Flitwick, re-emerging from under the table and pulling shards of glass out of the top of his hat, "practise."

We have one of our rare free periods after Charms and walk back to the common room together. Ron seems to be positively light-hearted about the end of his rejection ship and Hermione seems cheery, too, though when asked what she is grinning about she simply says, "It's a nice day." Neither of them seem to have noticed that Harry's and Danny's brains are elsewhere.