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Finally a Blur of Colour

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Harry Potter winced as his bushy headed mate's voice level reached a new height record. His red headed mate didn't fancy himself beaten; he growled at her and tugged on his hair in an unnerving fashion.

Honestly, if those two don't reach an agreement soon –

Then a thought occurred to him. What if they never would? What if they spent the rest of their last school year biting each other's heads off, and then just pull apart when they graduated? Harry would be alone again, just like he was before he reached Hogwarts.

He winced again as Hermione threw a book at Ron screaming, "That's rich coming from the tallest git ever to walk on Earth!"

This had to end. And it had to end soon, preferably now.

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Harry let out a relieved breath. He had escaped the Fight from Hell once more, although there was no telling what would meet his eyes when he came back to the Common Room again.

So he decided to just wander around a bit.

He strutted a couple of floors and found a hall he had never seen before. There was just a single door at the end of it, painted in black. Something told him he should go in there… just to have a look…

As he reached for the doorknob and turned it, he felt warm. Like he was doing something he really should, something that was meant for him to doall along.

He opened the door to reveal a stone room with a crackling fireplace at the far end. In the middle of the room there stood a lone chair. It was three-legged and lanky, Harry thought it seemed like it could possibly break just of the weight of the thing upon it.

It was a hat. But not just any hat, Harry noticed as he went to it. The Sorting Hat.

What was the Sorting Hat doing alone in an unlocked room in a faraway hall? Harry didn't have time to ponder the matter further as the Hat gave a small cough.

"My, my," it said in a rusty voice, as if it hadn't spoken in a very long time, Harry assumed it hadn't, considering the Sorting had been abouttwo months ago, "is it not Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

The Hat croaked out a laugh that made Harry's spine chill a bit, before warmth spread through him. The fire really was nice.

"Well, what are you waiting for, boy?" the Hat asked impatiently.

"I don't know," said Harry incredulously.

"Put me on," the Hat sighed. "I'll see what to make of it."

He nodded and picked it up nervously. It wasn't soft, it was raspy and felt old. He sat cautiously down on the lanky chair, it croaked just a bit, and then he slowly put the Hat over his head. It didn't fall down to his shoulders as it had the last time he'd worn it.

A few minutes went by, no sounds could be heard except for the chair's croaking and the fire's crackling.

Harry was just about to take the stupid Hat off when the fire was twisted into a mixture of lights and colours.

He was standing in the Common Room. How had he got there? He was just about to shrug and go up the stairs to his dormitory when the Portrait Hole opened.

In came – him. 'He' looked to be about the same age as he was now, maybe six months older or so.

'He' sighed heavily, strode to the couch and sat down with another heavy sigh. Then the Portrait opened again, you could hear the Fat Lady complain faintly, and in came Ginny Weasley, red in the face and angry as a bee.

"Harry Potter, you lousy git!" she howled at him "Don't walk away when I'm bloody talking to you!"

"What else is there to say?" 'Harry' asked firmly, his eyes seemed attached to the carpet somehow.

Ginny threw her arms in the air in an exasperated fashion. "You can't just dump this big thing on me and then walk away like nothing happened!"

"Yes, I can!" 'Harry' shouted and stood up to face the girl. "I can, when it's so damn obvious that you don't feel the same!"

The 'real' Harry started. Felt what?

'Harry' was calmer now, speaking in a cold voice. "I love you, Ginny. But it is very clear to me that you fancy Dean bloody Thomas again. And it hurts like hell, okay? So just tell me, and let me get to bed before McGon-"

But he was stopped right there by Ginny Weasley's lips on his.

The world became full of blurry colours again as Harry heard Ginny's voice, "Is that clear enough to you, Harry?"

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He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as the colours kept blurring all around him. Ginny? Him and Ginny? He was torn from his thoughts as, once again, he was in the Common Room. Only, hadn't he just been there?

Ron and Hermione was facing each other, both red in the face and Hermione with hair wilder than ever before, it looked like it had a life of it's own, and then him, sitting awkwardly on the couch, not really knowing where to put his eyes.

"Stop bossing me around, you insufferable know-it-all!"

"Ron, must you always call me an insufferable know-it-all?" Hermione was howling practically into Ron's mouth, which was open in horrified anger, "It is so obvious that all you really want is to call me something much fouler!"

Ron's eyes widened. "Are you insulting my insults, woman!"

They looked dangerously close to each other, as if all they really wanted was to wrestle or -

Harry saw that something seemed to click in the Harry that was sitting there quietly then.

"Guys, I'm going to bed!" 'he' called out to them, not really looking like he was expecting an answer and not getting one either.

As the other him went up the stairs, Harry couldn't help but wonder why. He neverleft their discussions, orwars you might call them, because in the end he always had had to be the peacemaker between them.

"Now look what you did, Ronald!"

"What did I do!" Ron shrieked indignantly.

"You practically chased poor Harry up the stairs!"

"I did not, Hermione Granger!" he howled. "I swear, if you don't get out of my face right now –"

"Then what?" Hermione challenged, hands on her hips.

Ron seemed at a loss of words, but mad as hell anyway. " I'll… I'll… I'll – oh, what the hell!"

And he grabbed Hermione and crushed his mouth against hers. She instantly relaxed and put her hands on his neck, pulling slightly on his curls there.

Harry winced as Ron let out a small moan and wished instantly that the blurry colours would come again. But no such luck.

After almost a full minute of snogging, they slowly pulled apart and smiled at each other. Ron had his hands on Hermione's face, and she had her arms around his waist.

"Finally," Harry heard her whisper and they closed the distance once again.

Yes, finally, colours! Harry thought as the colours began to blur once again.

But, other than nausea with seeing his best mates snogging the living daylight out of each other, he also felt relief. It was going to happen.Ron and Hermionewould finally come to their senses.

The colours stopped moving and he was standing in what seemed like a living room.

He looked around. Yes, it was a living room. It had warm colours and felt like home somehow. He noticed a couple of pictures standing on a nearby shelf and gasped as he looked at them.

It was them.

Ginny, in a stunning wedding gown, and himself, in fit black robes, looked at him, laughed and waved with Ron and Hermione in best man and maid of honour outfits looking like they only had eyes for themselves and Ginny and him. His stomach lurched with - was it happiness?

He looked at the other pictures.

Hermione with a pregnant belly, Ron standing next to her with his ear against it, smiling happily while Hermione ruffled his hair affectionately, both had wedding rings on.

Ginny and Harry kissing while a three- or four-year-old boy with messy red hair and emerald eyes was tugging on his trouser leg, obviously complaining loudly about being ignored.

Suddenly he felt tears prickling behind his eyes. A boy. His son.

He heard footsteps on the stairs next to him and turned around eagerly to see who it was, when all the colours began blurring again. As he waited for it to stop, he couldn't help but think how this could all be true. Or could it?

The colours faded, and he felt wood under him. He was back in the chair, the Hat still on his head. It chuckled lightly.

"Now, if you're so kind," it said, "would you please put me back on my chair?"

Harry nodded and did as he was told. Then he started to exit the room, but turned around.

"Thanks," he smiled slightly.

The Sorting Hat just waved at him dismissively with its tip. "Move along, it is long after curfew, is it not?"

Harry turned around again and walked out into the hall, closing the black door carefully behind him.

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"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"

Harry winced once again, and the Fat Lady looked at him and nodded in agreement.

"I must say, dear boy, that I would not enter now if I were you."

Harry just shook his head. "I can handle them. Griffohipp."

"Most certainly," she said and swung the Hole open.

He walked into the Common Room, empty except for the fighting pair.

"Hermione, I swear -"

"Shut up, you prick!"

Harry went over to the couch and slumped down into it.

"Stop bossing me around, you insufferable know-it-all!" Ron shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Ron, must you always call me an insufferable know-it-all?" Hermione was howling practically into Ron's mouth, which was open in horrified anger, "It is so obvious that all you really want is to call me something much fouler!"

Ron's eyes widened. "Are you insulting my insults, woman!"

They looked dangerously close to each other, as if all they really wanted was to wrestle or -

Something clicked in Harry's brain. He was supposed to leave now.

"Guys, I'm going to bed!" he called out to them, not expecting an answer and not getting one either.

As he went up the stairs a faint "Now look what you did, Ronald!" could be heard.

He couldn't help a grin from appearing on his face.

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A/N: So, what did you think? I must say, I am rather proud with this small piece. Probably because I finished and published it, which I rarely do. Tell me what you thought of it in a review, it doesn't even take a minute! And feel free to read my other stories as well! Thanksies!