McGonagall virtually stormed her way back to Gryffindor tower, Hermione and Harry trailing along in her wake, and a look of thunder on her face. Approaching the portrait of the Fat Lady she simply made a swiping motion with her hand, clearly too angry for trivial things like passwords and waiting.

The portrait opened on a scene of farcical pantomime; Ron was facing away from the entrance and clearly attempting to hold court to convince anyone that would listen how Harry had wronged him. The three newcomers caught the tail-end of what was obviously his main thrust as they entered.

"- obviously cheated his way into the tournament, and then he hit me when I called him on it! And stormed out! Yeah! Out of control, that one…"

"Mister Weasley! That will be quite enough!" Professor McGonagall said in a voice that could spell the end of empires. "Harry has told me what you said, and what you have done. He also explained that while he very much wanted to hit you for what you've done – and I would have to admit that I would find it very difficult to fault him if he had – he has told me that he finally decided not to. A more noble choice I could not have hoped for from anyone, least of all someone who has had to put up with so much over so little time as him." She looked around the common room with grim purpose in her eyes. "Has Mister Weasley told you all that in between Harry sending him packing for his quite frankly disgusting tirade against Miss Granger – and rest assured Mister Weasley an accounting for the despicable things you said and accused your two friends of at that time will be only the first thing exacted from you – and Harry leaving this tower to come and get me he –" she pointed at the now furiously red Weasley "was throwing Mister Potter's belongings from the castle windows? Those that he wasn't stealing, anyway."

The indicated Weasley opened his mouth, though in the moment even he could not have said to what end, but was immediately cut off by the Professor.

"I don't want to hear it, Mister Weasley. You will close your mouth this instant, lest you increase your coming punishment. You will take yourself off to my office and you will wait there until I come back to deal with you, is that clear?"

Ron closed his mouth and nodded, then rotated towards the door and left, a stormy look on his brow.

"Come, Mister Potter, and let's see how much of your belongings may be salvaged," McGonagall said, and with that she led the way up the stairs to the boys' dorms.
Harry's room-mates and finally, after a moment of deliberation, Hermione followed them.

Inside the room they found that Ron appeared to have attempted a half-hearted and entirely unsuccessful clean-up to cover his wrongdoing. Most of his things that Harry had seen strewn on the floor and furniture had been haphazardly dumped back into his trunk, and the window was closed. However, there were still some items here and there, and Harry and his room-mates, and even Hermione, knew that he never left his things in such disarray. It was a holdover habit from his time living the Dursleys all year, and not one he actually minded all that much.

"Professor," Harry began, "I assure you, I don't leave my things looking this messy. And –" Harry lifted the lid of his trunk "- most of my things are missing. Books, homework, quills and ink. I don't know where my Firebolt is, but I assume Ron didn't throw it out. Maybe it's under his bed or something."

"It's true," Neville said, immediately jumping to Harry's defence "Harry's the tidiest of all of us. His stuff's always put away neatly, and his area is always clean." The rest of the boys spoke up in agreement.

Professor McGonagall still looked thunderous, but it was clear she was attempting to calm down, and she deliberately gave the boys a slightly gratified look.

"Thank you, all of you. One point to Gryffindor for each of you, for supporting a housemate in a time of need. Now, since Mister Weasley has shown no compunction in stealing from one of you, perhaps we should check his trunk and area for any belongings not just of Mister Potter's, but any which might belong to one of you. First, however," she said, and then looked over at an open space of floor, "Mipsy."

A small House Elf in a Hogwarts teatowel toga popped into the room and stood virtually vibrating to attention.

"Mister Potter has had a number of his belongings thrown from the tower, out of-" Here she paused, and looked askance at Harry.

"That window, Professor," Harry said, indicating one on the other side of the room from his bed. There was a straight, unimpeded path from his trunk to it.
"- thrown out of that window by a housemate. Please take several of the other elves and return as much of it here as you can. Don't worry if something is broken, damaged, or otherwise no longer usable, bring it here as well but leave it separate. We need to know what the other student will need to replace of Mister Potter's."

The House Elf looked horrified at what Professor McGonagall was describing, then saluted and said "At once, your Professor Catship!" in a piping voice, and popped away.

With that done, the Professor supervised the search of Ron's trunk and space for items that weren't supposed to be there. Sure enough, they found Harry's Firebolt under Ron's bed, along with a … certain magazine, the sight of which made Hermione blush furiously and McGonagall's lips press together so hard they completely disappeared. She simply flicked her wand and vanished it.

As they went, and each room-mate found small items they had thought lost, including a hip-flask of something in Ron's sock drawer that Seamus quietly admitted was his, and which McGonagall insisted he pour away in the bathroom before he could have it back – and even Neville's Remembrall which he exclaimed he thought he'd lost in first year - Harry became more and more distressed. One thing he'd forgotten about until he was back in the room, and which was very much more precious to him than almost everything else he owned, was not there. His father's map. He tried to keep his mounting alarm from showing, and tried to work out what he'd do if it didn't turn up. He gave Hermione a significant jerk of his head towards the window with an alcove seat and moved over to it.

"I can't find the map. It's not with my things, and besides the twins you, Ron and I are the only ones who know about it. I haven't found it yet. What should we do if we don't find it?"

"I don't know, Harry. I haven't seen it either, and I didn't see Neville, Dean or Seamus pick it up, either. I really don't think the elves will find it outside, either. I can't believe Ron would throw it away. Even with the way he was earlier, I don't think he'd destroy it." She broke off, biting her lip.

Harry thought hard. What he was considering went against every instinct he had, but… he honestly didn't think he had any other choice.

"Which means…" he let out a dejected sigh, "he probably has it on him. Hermione, I can't let him take it. It was my dad's. If I… If I ask McGonagall to search him for it, will you back me up? Try and, I don't know, make it sound less like it's the Marauder's Map?"

"I don't know if I can do that, Harry. No, not that I don't think you should get it back," she quickly assured him, realising how it might have sounded "I know how much it means to you, and how useful it's been. I just don't know if I can quick-talk around it being the map, you know?" She finished, and went back to biting her lip.

Harry felt slightly ashamed that he'd even thought that Hermione might mean anything else, and tentatively put a hand on her arm to try and show it. He caught her eye and gave her a small smile.

"Have you forgotten you're the same girl who assured three teachers, one of whom was Professor McGonagall herself, that you had gone looking for the troll to try and stop Ron and I getting in trouble?" he said, giving her a small grin.

Hermione looked down at her hand, and then looked back up with a small smile of her own. "Ok Harry, I'll give it a shot. We'll wait until she's on her way back and catch her outside the tower so that no-one else hears."

While they had been talking, things of Harry's had started appearing on his bed in neat piles, and also on the floor next to his bedside table in a pile – these were the things that were broken. Currently it consisted mostly of several broken and empty ink-bottles, but there was also Harry's Sneak-o-Scope, which hadn't worked since he'd gotten it and was now broken beyond repair. Harry went over and gave these things a once-over, but as he'd expected, the map wasn't there. He applied a couple of repair charms to several of his books, and went back to checking the draws of Ron's chest of drawers.

Finally, once everyone had assured the Professor that they had all their belongings, McGonagall turned to leave.

Discreetly, Harry and Hermione followed her. Once she was out the portrait hole they called to her.

"Professor." Harry began "Sorry to keep you, but there are just two things before you go… One; it might be a good idea to ask Ron's parents to search his room at home to see if there are any other things there that don't belong to him," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"That is an excellent suggestion, Mister Potter. I shall bring it up when I have words with his parents which, rest assured, will be happening tonight," Professor McGonagall said, and nodded curtly.

"Um," Harry continued "And the other thing… there was one other item that I couldn't find. It's… well, it's quite a personal item… " he trailed off, awkwardly shifting his hands in and out of his pockets.

"Mister Potter," the Professor began, both her eyes and lips narrowing dangerously, "this had better not be about another … publication, such as the one we found with your Firebolt."

"No! No Professor, absolutely not. The first one wasn't even – ah, um. No, it's not about one of those." Harry was blushing really hard.

"Professor, what Harry's asking about is a… it's an enchanted piece of parchment that belonged to… one of his parents. It looks blank at first glance, but it… well, it's enchanted… it's helpful to students - outside of their classes – if the right password is given. We believe Ron may have stolen it, because it isn't with Harry's things and we didn't find it while we were searching, so we think he may have it on him."

Harry was nodding as Hermione spoke, willing the deception to succeed.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes again, but the look she bore had a very different cast than before, and if Harry and Hermione didn't know better they could have sworn they saw a glint of mischief in her eyes. But they did know better. Didn't they?

"Would this enchanted parchment's password happen to begin… 'I solemnly swear…' by any chance?"

Harry and Hermione stared at their Head of House, stunned. Perhaps they didn't know better after all. And if, as it turned out, they didn't know their Head of House better, they could now almost convince themselves that their Professor was suppressing a small smile.

"I shall check Mister Weasley for this… parchment, the one that belonged to one of your parents, and if I find that he has it I shall pass it along back to you. Good evening."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving her two fourth years standing stunned in her wake. Eventually, after moments that felt like minutes, they turned to one another. Who could have seen that coming? Who could believe it? Nobody. Nobody would. McGonagall probably told them knowing that.

"Do you think she …" Harry began.

"… only told us because she knew nobody would believe her? Yeah, I do," finished Hermione.

They couldn't help but smile at one another.

For maybe half an hour afterwards Harry and Hermione sat sharing a small couch while Neville, Dean and Seamus sat near them. They were murmuring to one another in their disbelief at what their room-mate and friend of more than three years had been doing, evidently since even their first year, and how awfully and revoltingly he'd spoken to them in his flare-up. They all agreed that no matter what, he was in fact their ex-friend, and the boy's ex-room-mate. Harry had told them he had insisted to McGonagall that he couldn't share a room with the redhead any longer, and the boys all agreed.

Neville assured them that his Grandmother would be having words with the Weasleys, and none of them envied the parents of their erstwhile acquaintance. It was when Seamus said he was going to go to bed that Harry remembered what had caused him to catch Ron in the act in the first place – going to get his timetable.

"Hermione," Harry whispered to her, "I completely forgot. I was going to get my timetable so we could check when we're both free during the week. I'll go see if it survived."

"Ok Harry, I'll be here," she said, and pulled her hand from his. He looked down, surprised. He'd completely missed the fact that they'd been holding hands, and as he walked up to his dorm with Seamus he contemplated why. It had felt… natural, so right that it hadn't even registered with him until that moment that it could be something to consider. Had he taken her hand, or she his? With a little smile and a wonderful, warm feeling in his chest he realised that it didn't matter.

He retrieved his timetable after a little searching – the house elves had retrieved it, but understandably not put it back where he usually did – and was back with Hermione quickly. It turned out that they had Wednesday and Friday afternoons off in common, and they agreed that in their non-mutual off periods they'd independently research spells Harry could practice. Hermione decided to draw up a table where they could note what they had looked at and what they hadn't, so that they wouldn't end up reading the same books at different times.

Not long after, when everything was sorted and Harry was lying in bed, he couldn't help but feel a lot more hopeful about his prospects in the tournament than he had the same time yesterday, or even that morning.