Chapter Eight:

Unexpected Developments

Hermione quickly rushed into the Charms classroom, enormous library book in hand, and sat down next to Harry. "Okay, Harry, I've been doing a lot of research and we're going to need eel's eyes, frog's liver, eye of newt, some chewing gum—"

"Chewing gum?" Harry said incredulously, turning to face her. She was flushed from head to toe as if she had been running around madly gathering this information, which, Harry realized, she probably had been. He briefly imagined her in the library, tearing through page after page, books piled high in front of her—it wasn't a far stretch. He'd seen her go through the same process countless times, he thought with a fond grin.

"Yes, chewing gum," Hermione assured him with a smile. Suddenly her eyes lit up, as if she had been struck with a brilliant idea, which, Harry realized, she probably had been. "And, um, we'll also need one frozen Ashwinder egg."

Harry nodded seriously, "And we'll make Ron get that."

Hermione laughed at the idea of Ron falling over himself trying to get an Ashwinder egg from a Floo Powder snake. "I'll take care of the eel's eyes and the frog liver; you can get the eye of newt if you're feeling up to it. And I don't see how Ron can mess getting chewing gum, so that's his task too…. You'll be cured in no time," she smiled, nodding intently.

Harry grinned appreciatively. "Thank God for you, Hermione—I don't know what I'd do without you," he said, pulling her into an unexpected hug. Hermione, for a moment shocked, gave a little gasp, and then, biting her lip nervously, hugged him back, wondering why what she'd done countless times before made her feel so unsure now. God, Hermione, who do you need this De-Lusting Potion for? In her mind she had meant it at a joke, but it suddenly seemed serious.

- - -

"Ginny!" Hermione called into the Gryffindor common room, her voice urgent. "Ginny!"

Ginny looked up from her game of Wizard Chess to see her bushy-haired friend in a panic, her normal calm seemingly overturned. She gave Dean a look and left the table, joining Hermione just outside. "What is it, Hermione? You look awful." It was the truth: Hermione looked positively sick.

"Ginny, what did it… um… I mean to say, what was it… um… what was it like when you were… in… and… oh God, I can't even say it," Hermione mumbled helplessly.

"What was it like when I was… possessed?" asked Ginny, frowning, completely unsure of what Hermione was talking about. She quickly glanced back at Dean who was looking absolutely crestfallen that Ginny had left the room.

"Yes!" shouted Hermione, having finally hit on the perfect word. "What was it like when you were possessed?"

"By Lord Voldemort," Ginny finished uncertainly, wondering where this conversation was going. Could Hermione possibly think that she was possessed by a force of pure evil?

"NO! By Harry!" she whispered, her voice completely panicked.

"Possessed by Harry?"

Hermione nodded weakly. Ginny quickly realized the problem and grabbed her friend's hand, leading her up the stairs to the girl's dorms so that they could speak in private. Standing outside the Gryffindor common room was not the best way to deal with this situation—supposing there was even a good way to deal with this situation. But then, Ginny had always known this day would come: she'd been predicting it ever since the beginning, but she had seen it most clearly in the fifth year when she'd seen it fit to finally give up on Harry. In fact, it was the very reason she had given up on Harry. It was obvious to her that there would always be someone more important in Harry's life and that even if she and Harry did end up together, to him she'd always be second place.

Hermione threw herself on Ginny's bed in despair. "I don't know what's wrong with me!" It wasn't completely true: she knew exactly what was wrong with her and it scared her beyond all reason, a thought which was frightening in itself—a Hermione without reason? She could almost picture Ron running around Hogwarts screaming his bright-red head off.

Ginny shut the door behind her and looked at the distressed Hermione before her. "I think we've already established what's wrong with you, and don't worry, it's a common affliction."

"I know, I know, I know," Hermione said, howling into Ginny's pillow, thinking of all the cheerleaders and crazed fan-girls screaming Harry's name, hoping desperately she didn't become one of them.

"Now, I'm guessing you just want to be sure of what's going on, right?" Ginny asked to Hermione's nodding head, which was already agreeing to what she was saying. "Okay, okay… well, first things first: are you nervous around him?"

Hermione nodded, thinking of earlier that morning in Charms. "And I never have been before—it's horrible! It's like having pixies in my stomach!"

"Are you jealous over him?" asked Ginny, creating a list in her mind of questions to ask, remembering how she had always felt around the Boy Who Lived.

"I was sent to the hospital wing when I found out you kissed him, what do you think?" sighed Hermione. She felt like violently banging her head into Ginny's bedpost. "Why, why, why—WHY have I never noticed this before, Ginny, what's wrong with me? Why didn't I see it?" She was silent a moment. "But it doesn't matter why I didn't see it, Ginny, it'd be so much trouble—there'd be so much trouble. I can't do this; I can't be in love with him."

"And why not?" It was a question Ginny never thought she'd ask. Two years ago she would have been delighted to know that Hermione refused to love Harry, but she'd very clearly and decidedly moved on with her life. It'd been years and now her affections were very clearly directed at—

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Hermione, interrupting Ginny's thoughts. "Maybe I never should have started with this stupid De-Lusting Potion business after all. As I see it now, the best thing there could be for me is to stay with Ron. With Ron there are no complications, no problems." Ginny gawked at her in complete disbelief. "I mean, yes, there are problems within the actual relationship, but those problems I can deal with—I've been dealing with them for a year now, haven't I? But I knew Harry could take it… he'd never complain or say anything… But if I'd chosen Harry in the first place, Ginny, everything with him and Ron would be ruined by now."

"So you put Ron first," murmured Ginny thoughtfully, looking absently out her window, thinking on what Hermione had just said.

"No, I put Harry first." Ginny whipped her head around, her eyes coming to focus on Hermione again. "I know he couldn't bear it if he and Ron stopped being friends—it was bad enough fourth year, I didn't want to put him through that again and not over me."

Ginny frowned once more, seeing the problem in full now. She came to sit next to Hermione on her bed. "So what are we going to do?" she asked.

"I think the only thing we can do," Hermione replied, shaking her head not in dissent but in a horrible confusion. "Ginny, I've got to get De-Lusted off of Harry—it's the only way any of this can turn out right."

Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but she quickly clamped it shut again. Hermione knew what she had to do and as her friend Ginny needed to let her do it. But by God, Ginny knew what she had to do too.

- - -

Harry sat in his room, quill and parchment before him, all set to do his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, but every time he put his quill to the paper, he heard Hermione's voice, the little gasp she gave when he hugged her. He was puzzled. For a moment he thought of asking Hermione's advice, something he'd always done, before he realized that this was about her in the first place. It was just that asking Hermione about things he didn't understand was a habit… and hugging her… hugging her was a habit too. They'd always been close like that, hadn't they? It hadn't disturbed either one of them before. So why was it that—

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It was an hour until midnight and he knew he'd best get at least a start on his essay. "If only I could think," he murmured to himself.

"Jesus, mate, how am I supposed to sleep with you muttering all the time!" snapped Ron, shooting straight up out of bed.

"Oh, sorry," apologized Harry, turning around to look at his friend. To tell the truth, he had quite forgotten he was there.

- - -

Ginny was amazed by how much time you could spend in the library without learning anything. She'd spent almost the entire lunch there now, as she had done with breakfast, and nothing had come of it. Ever since she'd talked to Hermione in her room the day before, ever since she'd discovered her friend's reasoning for shying away from Harry, she'd done nothing but research, and it was research that was getting her nowhere. Well, it was getting her snogged by Dean, but that was about it.

"Dean, I'm trying to do research," she hissed at him, hoping her tone of voice would make him go away. However, it seemed Dean was weirdly turned-on by rejection.

"Mmm, research, baby, that's fantastic," he said into her hair, trying to kiss her again. "You smell great—is that the library that's doing that?"

"No, it's Madame Matilda's Magical Mesmerizing Love Perfume," Ginny replied promptly, reminding herself that she was never to wear it in Dean's presence again. Then again, if it had the same effect on the true object of her affections that it had on Dean, maybe she would start wearing it more often. "Now, seriously, Dean, back off. I'm never going to get the least amount of work done if you're sniffing around me all the time."

"And what're you working on, baby?" asked Dean, swaying from side to side behind her as she put another spell book back on the shelf. Ginny wondered if all the swaying would eventually make him nauseous.

"Dean, have you been drinking?" she asked.

"Maybe, maybe, my baby," he replied, chuckling into her ear. Ginny wanted to scream, but she hadn't yet forgotten that she was in a library, whereas Dean obviously had. "Now why don't you want to take this someplace more private?"

Ginny closed her eyes, rolled them, and then took a deep breath. It was her last resort. "You want to know why, Dean?" she sighed, giving him one last chance to take his drunken self and run. He nodded and she winced. "It's because I'm a lesbian. You heard that right. I am a lesbian. I am not interested in you because I want to have sex with women," she said flatly.

Dean cocked his head to one side curiously. "But, baby, Ginny-my-Ninny, I find that oh-so-hard to believe," he said.

Ginny sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, me too. Now get your sorry ass out of here before I tell everyone that you enjoy borrowing my lacy pink bras and wearing them in your spare time."

Drunk though he was, Dean knew to take this threat seriously and bolted.

Now Ginny was left in the library, completely unsure of what to do. She threw her hands up into the air and sank back onto the table, her head resting in one of the books. Then, after a quiet moment, Ginny raised her head. Most Potente Potions. She smiled to herself. "There's hope after all," she smiled, "there's hope after all…"

A/N: Okay, I've updated after several years and ages and eras and several reversals of the earth's magnetic poles and ice ages and all other markers of time and by now the earth is probably being controlled by mad Prada-wearing space Aliens, right? This chapter's short on humor, but it's a bridge to where I'm going next in the mad, mad Potterverse. Well, I'm sorry I haven't updated, but I'm a horrid planner and up till now I had no idea what I wanted to come next until yesterday I was hit with a mad bolt of writer's lightning. I know what you're thinking: "Yeah, yeah, several ice ages too late." Forgive me? Liz, this is your late birthday present.