"Thanks for coming."

She started and turned around, catching sight of Fred standing in the doorway to the next room. He lifted his hand in a lazy wave and shifted uncomfortably. Ginny walked back toward him, testing the strength of the nearest box and sitting down. Fred followed her lead, sinking onto another box, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the floor.

After a few minutes Ginny looked over at him expectantly, waving her hand in front of his face and bringing his attention back to her. "You're the one who asked to see me, Fred. And as much as I love you, I don't fancy spending my entire day in Hogsmeade with you."

"Right." He nodded. "Right. I have a problem."

"You've got several, most of them mental."

"With the whole Hermione thing."

"What problem?" She asked. "You wanted Ron to get jealous. Ron's jealous. You wanted him to realize he's in love with Hermione. He realized it. You wanted him to ask her out. If you ever broke up with her, he probably would."

"Yeah."

She widened her eyes innocently, her smirk telling him otherwise. "So what's the problem?"

"I like her."

"Yeah? One would figure as much when you keep her out all night." Ginny's smirk hardened. "Did you have sex with her?"

"Who are you? Mum?"

"No. But I'm your sister and the person you called here for this stupid meeting. You obviously want something from me, Fred. What is it?"

"I like her, Ginny."

"You're not allowed." Her voice was matter-of-fact.

"I can't help it." He ignored the look she gave him. "She's amazingly bossy, but she's almost always right. And when she is, she doesn't gloat about it. She doesn't harp on me about always going back to school and she's been stunning with ideas for the shop. She's bright and she's pretty and she's actually funny, Ginny!"

"Yes. She's everything you could ask for," his sister agreed icily. "But Ron's in love with her."

"All he does is complain about her."

"Because she's dating his stupid git of an older brother. Ron's fancied her since they met, Fred, which you know because that was the basis of this whole stupid idea."

He raked his hand through his short hair, groaning in despair. "I know. I know." His blue eyes sought out her sympathy. "But I really like her, Gin."

"How does she feel about you?" She asked then cursed softly, rolling her eyes. "That's why I'm here, isn't it? You want me to find out if she fancies you!"

"I need to know if she does like me, Gin. Or if…if I'm just a substitute for Ron." He looked away, unwilling to meet her eyes. "I need to know if she loves him, Ginny."

"What if she does?"

He looked as if she'd kicked him in the stomach. "If she does, I'll call it off, I swear." He raked his hands through his hair. "I'll come up with some excuse and dump her, send her running straight into Ron's arms."

Ginny watched his face as he turned away; he was pale, his eyes sad, hurt.

"What if she doesn't?" He looked back at her and she closed her eyes against the look of hope in his. "What if she fancies you?"

His blue eyes looked haunted. "I've got no idea."

"You okay?" Ron asked quietly, his hand gentle on Hermione's back.

"Fine." She gave him a reassuring smile that failed to reassure him. "Just go on, Ron. He's only a few minutes late. Besides, you're meeting up with some of the gang, aren't you?"

His hand slipped down, feathering along her spine, coming to a rest just above the smooth curve of her ass. "Luna and Neville. Which I normally wouldn't intrude on, but," he shrugged, "since Harry's hanging out with Ginny and you're with Fred, if the wanker ever shows up, she asked me to hang out with them."

"Fred and I could…"

"No." He shook his head quickly. "No. Really."

"Right." She smiled weakly and stepped away from his warm touch. He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at the lane into town.

"I can stay."

"It's all right, Ron."

"What'll you do if he doesn't show?"

"I'll come find you. I promise."

He didn't look convinced. His blue eyes moved over her, taking her in, as if he could see whether or not she was telling the truth.

Fred Apparated a few feet from them. "Sorry I'm late." He gave Ron a look then turned back to Hermione. "I had to convince George that he could survive without me for a few hours. He's not pleased."

"You don't have to spend the day with me, Fred. I know you have a business to run."

"I know that I don't have to. But I haven't seen you in weeks. I want to." He touched her cheek, his thumb moving to stroke her lips, parting them as he did every time. "I missed you. Almost enough to want to go back to school."

"That's quite a lot of missing."

He tasted her breathless words, kissing her softly, gently before sliding his tongue between her lips. Her honeyed groan of pleasure melted him and she wound her arms around his neck.

"I'll just be going then."

They broke apart at Ron's strangled voice and Hermione flushed. "I'll see you tonight, Ron."

"Bye, little brother." Fred continued watching Hermione closely, not even glancing in Ron's direction. He brushed her lips again with his own, tasting her, breathing her in. His fingers wove through her hair, capturing the wavy strands. "I've missed you."

"So you said."

His hands framed her face and he stared into her eyes, watching the kaleidoscope of emotions in them. He kissed her again, still holding her eyes. "How hard would it be for you to get the Marauder's Map from Harry?"

"He and Ron wouldn't let me use it alone."

Another kiss, conversation paused as he tasted her hot mouth, as she sucked hard on his tongue. He groaned, his hands at her waist, pulling her closer. "Invisibility cloak?"

"The same."

"The key to Professor Vector's office again?" He laughed softly as he closed his eyes, his voice soft, silky, desperate. "I want to be alone with you, Hermione."

"We're alone now."

He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her closer, his body flush against hers. "Alone," he practically moaned the word, her heat sending his blood racing.

"Oh." She flushed scarlet but didn't pull away. Despite the fact that they were alone, away from the town, she lowered her voice. She glanced down where his body was pressed against hers. "Would…would you touch me?" Fred groaned against her neck. "If we were alone?"

He nibbled her earlobe sending hot shivers down her spine. "I want to do more than touch you, Hermione."

"Oh," she gasped breathlessly.

Fred kissed her, harder this time, one of his legs slipping between hers. "I want to kiss you, and touch you, and taste you." He groaned hotly as she whimpered, her body grinding against his thigh. "I want to make love to you." He thrust forward once, his cock hard against her leg. "So much."

"Oh." She trailed her hand down his back, over his ass, squeezing lightly. Fred groaned and thrust against her, then stilled, his body rigid, his muscles corded like steel. "Fred," she whispered.

"Don't move," He begged her, forcing the words out in rushed gasps. "Please don't move."

"Fred," she pleaded.

"It's okay," he promised her. "It's okay. Just take a deep breath." Her chest brushed his and his hips pistoned forward. "No. On second thought, no deep breaths."

"Fred," she tightened her hold on his ass, her teeth nipping his earlobe as she breathed hotly against his neck. "It aches. I want you so much that it aches."

Fred buried his head against her shoulder, his body jerking helplessly in response to her words. He hid his cry in her hair, his arms holding her hard against him. Hermione shuddered, trembling wildly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "It hurts, Fred," she sobbed. "Aches."

"I know," he whispered, kissing her tears away, forgetting his own discomfort and embarrassment to tend to her. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"Make it stop, please?"

"Just breathe," he assured her. "Deep breaths. It'll ease. I promise." His face was bright red with a heady mixture of desire, embarrassment and guilt. "I'm sorry."

"Fred…"

"Fuck!" He pulled away from her, leaving her bereft as he fumbled with his wand and waved it at the front of his robe, spelling away any sign of what had happened. "Fuck!"

"What?" New tears fell from her eyes. "What did I do? Did I do it wrong?"

"No." He shook his head and moved back to her, cradling her face as he kissed her. "No. You were…are wonderful." He kissed her again, tongue sliding silkily, saltily over hers. "More than." He pulled away and started pacing again. "I'm the one," his voice dropped to a whisper, "who's fucked it all up."

"I don't understand, Fred."

He looked at her helplessly, then dropped his eyes, unsure that he could face her. "It was just supposed to be something to piss Ron off. To make him realize he needed to grow a pair of balls and ask you out." He raked his nails through his hair and down the back of his scalp. "And I've fucked it all up."

"This was all for Ron's benefit?" Her throat clogged with more tears, choking on the unspent desire. "All of this? You and me?" She gestured to the ground where she stood then at herself, rumpled, body still shaking with need. "This?"

"No. No." Fred closed his eyes. "I fucked it up, you see?" He pleaded with her.

"I asked you, Fred." Her voice broke and her tears began falling, betrayal sharp in her eyes. "I asked you if this was about Ron and you denied it. You promised me that it…"

"In the beginning. It was like that in the beginning, the very beginning, but then I got to know you and I started to like you. To more than like you. To lo…I lo…I was going to wait but I couldn't and now I don't know what to do." He opened his eyes then closed them on his own frustrated tears, unable to watch her run away from him. "Fuck."

"How many butterbeers d'you think I've drunk, Neville?" Ron leaned forward, pointing at the empty seat across from him. "That's right. You don't know because you're off with my ex-girlfriend and I'm not drinking butterbeer. I'm drinking something called Elephant Tongue Ale. And it does indeed taste like one. Or what I imagine one would taste like."

"Ron?"

He looked up at Hermione's tear-stained face. "I," he pointed to her, "am pissed." He blinked rapidly as he struggled to focus. "You're crying."

"I want to go back to school, Ron. Please come with me?"

"Why'dn't you go with Fred?"

"Please Ron?"

"I'm completely gutted, Hermione." He laughed loudly. "That's funny since it's you who's done the gutting. Not even a sharp knife or anything, 'Mione. Just this dull ache that's hollowed me out, reminding me day after day that you're dating him."

"Please?" Her voice broke on a sob, the sound penetrating the alcoholic haze. "I just want to go home, Ron."

He got to his feet and lurched toward the bar. He ordered something, draining the liquid from the small brown glass that was set in front of him. He shook his head and groaned, stumbling back toward her.

"What was that?"

"Antidote. I should be sober in about an hour." He grinned at her goofily. "But I'm semi-conscious now. Shall we go?"

Hermione fell in step beside him, wiping away her tears with one hand, the other wrapped around her waist like protection.

"Did he hurt you?"

She started then shook her head. "No. Maybe."

"Mum and George are going to be upset if I have to kill him." His voice was cool, the slight menace broken by an unexpected alcoholic giggle.

"He just went out with me to bother you." Fresh tears fell down her cheeks. "He thought that, if he acted interested, then you'd be interested."

"He told you that?"

"It was all a game to him." She sobbed once, almost a laugh, then got her control back. "A joke."

"He told you all that?" Ron fought the fog in his brain. "Why?"

"He wants to have sex with me."

"What?" Ron stopped walking, grabbing her arm and jerking her around to face him. Everything was suddenly in sharp focus, brilliantly lit, absolutely clear. "What?"

"He didn't want to do it under false pretenses. Even though everything else was." She laughed, almost sobbing. "What's so stupid, what hurts," she freed her arm from Ron's grasp, "is that it was pointless. You aren't any more interested in me now than you were then."

Ron growled, mumbling under his breath as he grabbed her again, pulling her body hard against his. "How's this for bloody interested?"

His lips burned hers, the residual taste of alcohol thick on his tongue. They stumbled together, colliding against the wall of a nearby building, Ron's body hot and heavy against hers. Hermione moaned as her head hit the wall, the sound melting in the heat of Ron's kisses. His tongue moved over hers and he tasted her, leaving behind the bitter sting of the ale as he pulled back.

His blue eyes were smoky with emotion, desire flaring in the depths. Her breath shivered out of her, fanning over him and he shook his head, his large hand curving behind her head, pulling her to him again. "Is this what you want, Hermione? You want to know that I want this? Want you?"

"Ron…" she groaned hotly, lifting on her toes to press her lips against his. He buried a laugh in her mouth, biting at her lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, his body pressed hard against hers.

Hermione shook, unable to control the harsh trembling of her body as Ron's hands began roaming over her, pulling her robes open, closing the distance between them, his body fitting easily between her spread legs, his chest brushing against her erect nipples with every breath.

Ron broke away from her mouth, his lips and tongue trailing down her neck then back up to her ear. His breath tangled in her hair as he nuzzled the pale expanse of flesh, teeth nipping at the pulsing vein. His hands reached her waist, tugging her closer, fingers fisting in the cloth as he pulled her skirt up, the hard brush of his jeans rubbing against her inner thighs as he bared them.

"Ron," she whimpered the word, barely able to afford the breath speaking his name cost her.

His only response was to kiss her, hard and long. Hermione captured his tongue as he let one hand slide along her thigh, moving over the creamy skin to find the edge of her panties, ignoring her hungry gasp as his thick fingers slipped under the elastic to find the warm, wet flesh.

"Oh…Ron." Her head fell back, hair rasping against the rough brick building as he parted the skin, his fingertips stroking lightly until he found the hard nub of her clit.

"He do this to you?" His voice was gruff, unrecognizable to his own ears.

"No," she shook her head, hair falling all around them. "No."

"Good." He slid his fingers back, pushing inside her. Tears fell from Hermione's eyes, her lips parted as she exhaled, sharp pants of air carrying his name to his ears. His other hand grabbed the top lace of her panties and tugged at it, easing it over her hip. Hermione grabbed at his arms, steadying herself, crying out softly as he removed his fingers. "What?" He whispered, tugging the panties down her thighs. "You want them back?"

She nodded fiercely, her nails digging into his arms as he thrust his fingers back inside her without restriction, burying them deeper, his thumb moving in circles over her clit. Her voice shook as she whispered his name, her fingers raking down his arms, leaving deep furrows in the material of his robes.

He shifted slightly, his thrusts changing, moving faster inside her. He curved his fingers, letting the short nails graze against the slick flesh, his thumbnail scraping lightly over her sensitive clit. Hermione gasped and stilled, her body suddenly arching toward his. Ron groaned and unfastened his jeans with his free hand, his other fingers bathing in the heady rush of Hermione's orgasm. She was panting hard, swallowing air, her fists beating against his arms as her head pressed against the wall behind her.

Ron freed his hand and her body jerked wildly, rising toward him. He grasped his cock, groaning at the wet heat of her on his own fingers, and guided it to her opening, pressing the tip against her flesh. Hermione mewled quietly and her hands slipped up his neck, grabbing his head and pulling it toward her. She kissed him, sucking his tongue back into her mouth as he thrust his cock inside her.

She released him as sharp, hot pain seared through her, her hips jerking instinctively. Ron didn't move for a long moment, reveling in the sensations, the tightness, the heat. Finally, unable to help himself, he began thrusting, whispering her name reverently, his hands finding the warm swell of her breasts, closing around them, kneading them as his cock filled her again and again.

His mouth opened, no sound escaping as Hermione's body clutched at his, muscles clenching around his cock. He closed his eyes and moved his hands to the wall, bracing himself, his nails digging into the rosy brick as his hips propelled forward, caught in their own rhythm until he lost control and stilled, spilling himself in Hermione's liquid heat.

Ron groaned, pressing Hermione against the building as he collapsed, heat pooled between them. Hermione was shaking, silent tears snaking down her cheeks. When she spoke, her voice was thick, the words choked out. "What was that, Ron?"

He didn't recognize his own voice. "What Fred wanted, right?"

"Oh." She shook her head, her expression hardening as she shoved him away from her. Angry heat drained the aroused flush from her face and she glared at him through silvery tears. "I hate you, Ron Weasley." She jerked her panties up her legs, putting distance between them as she fumbled with her skirt and robes. "I thought that…" She shook her head again, fury radiating off her in waves. "Never mind what I thought."

"What do you expect?" He asked tiredly. "You've been dating Fred for three months and then you run to me? What did you want, Hermione?"

"Compassion?" Her voice was like a razor slicing his skin. "My best friend?" She sneered. "Human decency? But then, I guess all of those things are beyond you, aren't they, Ron? If you don't get your way, you act exactly like a child. Throw tantrums, use people…"

"Fred was the one using you, Hermione."

"And when you were just fucking me, Ron? You weren't using me? Using me to get revenge? Hurt Fred?" Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably and she wrapped her arms around her chest as if to ward off the cold. "Hurt me."

"I'll walk you back to school."

"No." She started walking, striding past him, the rough sway of her hips the only hint that anything had happened. "You won't do anything with me ever again."

George sat on the edge of Fred's bed and looked down at his twin. "You want to talk about it?"

Fred didn't look up from his careful inspection of his pillowcase. "No."

"You know you need to talk about it, right?"

"Remember when you realized you wanted to fuck Oliver and didn't talk to me for two weeks because you were sure I'd figure it out?"

"That was different. I didn't realize you already knew I wanted to fuck him. I've known you wanted her for a long time."

Fred turned over and sat up. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I have told you, Fred. You just didn't want to believe it. Just like I didn't want to believe you when you told me to just run off and fuck Oliver." He grinned. "But, if it helps at all, I did eventually shag him."

"I told her the truth."

"Oh, well then. My gloating probably isn't helping." George sighed and elbowed Fred over, leaning against the headboard as well. "What happened?"

"Before or after I rutted my way to an orgasm while she stood there stunned?" He laughed humorlessly and sank back down onto the bed, turning his back on his twin. "Go 'way, George."

George lay down next to him and rubbed small circles on Fred's back. "I'm not going to go away, so you might as well just give up the ghost and talk to me."

"I told her the truth." Fred shrugged off George's hand, sighing when his twin moved it back immediately. "I told her I started dating her just to wizen Ron up. I said a lot more, but something tells me she stopped listening."

"Something?"

"The fact that she ran off." Tears stung Fred's eyes and he rubbed at them with his fist, not caring that it made him feel like a child. "Didn't listen. Didn't want to listen. Not that I can blame her. I mean, why would you stick around with the creep that just molested you on the outskirts of town and then told you he only did it because of his little brother?"

"I'm sure you didn't molest her, Fred. You forget, I live here too. You've both been getting…more involved."

"I didn't give her much choice today."

"Did she enjoy it?"

"She told me it hurt."

"I thought you didn't…" George sat up and looked down at Fred who turned over reluctantly. "Did you have sex with her, Fred?"

"If I say yes, are you going to remind me that Ron's in love with her like Ginny did? Are you going to impress upon me how incredibly stupid I am for being involved with my little brother's first and, so far only, love? Because I could really, really, really do without you saying any of those things, George."

"Actually, I was just thinking of giving you a hug."

"I didn't sleep with her."

George nodded and pulled his brother into his arms. "I'd hug you either way."

Ginny and Harry walked into the Gryffindor common room, stopping at the sudden silence. "What's going on?" Harry whispered.

"Ron and Hermione," Lavender replied with a shrug.

"What do you mean, Ron and Hermione?" Ginny asked sharply.

Parvati leaned over Lavender's lap. "Well, we don't know details, but Hermione stormed in about an hour ago. A little bit later, Ron came in. Drunk."

"Almost sober," Lavender corrected.

"Dean asked him if he knew what was up with Hermione and Ron flipped."

"Flipped?" Ginny's teeth were clenched, as were her fists. "Will you just tell the story?"

"Jeez, Ginny," Parvati huffed. "I am telling it."

"Parvati," Harry suggested, his hand on Ginny's arm, restraining her.

"He told Dean to," she dropped her voice, "fuck off. Then he stormed up the stairs to his room."

"How long ago?"

"Half hour?" She shrugged. "Neville went up about fifteen minutes ago and Ron threw something at him."

"Is Neville okay?"

"He stopped it with a spell. Of course, then he got so impressed with himself that he released it and it barreled into him and knocked him down the stairs."

Harry sighed, his patience almost as frayed as Ginny's. "Is Neville okay?"

"He's fine." Lavender admitted, obviously annoyed at their lack of appreciation for her dramatic retelling.

"What about Hermione?"

"Well, she won't talk to anyone. Lavender and I went upstairs, but she wouldn't talk to us. Then she stormed out a bit later. We think she's locked herself in the bathroom. She looked really bad when she came in." She whispered again, "Mussed. If you know what I mean."

"Dean and Seamus think Fred took advantage of Hermione and Ron found out."

"I'm going to go talk to Hermione."

Harry nodded. "I'll try Ron."

"Um." She glanced around then followed Harry to the staircase to the boy's dorms. "Look, Harry, about Ron."

"What?"

"What they said, well it could be true. About Fred and Hermione."

"I didn't think they were that serious."

"Well," Ginny blew out a breath, "they're not. But things…Fred's really serious about her. And, well, just be careful with him, okay?"

"I will." He touched the silky strands of her hair. "You too."

"Hermione?"

"Go away."

"It's Ginny."

"Fine. Go away, Ginny."

"Please?"

She heard Hermione's sigh and then the click of the lock. She opened the door and walked in. Hermione had moved back to the toilet and was sitting on the lid, her robes pulled tightly around her.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Smashing. Peachy fucking keen." Her sharp eyes locked on Ginny. "No offense, but I'm not really enamored with Weasleys right now."

"What happened?" Ginny sat on the edge of the huge tub and took a deep breath. "Did you and Fred…"

"What?" Hermione snarled. "Did we what?"

"Fight?"

"Oh, no." Her chuckle was malicious. "We didn't fight. I mean, what would we fight about, really? It's not like he was late, or like he made me…" She shook her head dismissively. "Did you know it was all a game? It was all some sort of lark? Another trademark Weasley gag. Let's see if we can make Hermione like a different Weasley just for fun."

"It wasn't like that."

"Oh really?" Hermione's eyes flashed, icy hot. "And how would you know what it was like, Ginny?"

"Fred wasn't trying to hurt anyone," Ginny started talking, needing to fill the heavy, oppressive silence. "And he does fancy you, Hermione."

"I figured that out when he came all over me on the road to Hogsmeade."

"You…?"

"Fucked him? Oh, no. It was all fully clothed rutting and grunting. Very romantic."

"I'm sure Fred…"

"The fucking came later when Ron found out what happened."

"Ron…"

"Right up against the wall of St. Andrews Apothecary. I hope your first time with Harry is nearly as perfect." She got off the toilet and moved over to the small window, her arms around her waist.

"Did he…did he…?"

"No." Her shoulders shook slightly with emotion she couldn't quite suppress. "That's the worst part. I wanted him to do it. And then, when it was all over, he made it clear he'd only done it to get back at Fred."

"I'm sure that's not the case."

"Whose side are you on, Ginny?"

The sudden question caught her off guard. "I'm sorry?"

"Who are you rooting for in the Hermione Granger tug of war? Which brother gets your stamp of approval? Or are you playing both sides of the fence? You and Harry maybe taking bets from the rest of the school on the side? Have we been worth money as well as entertainment?"

"How can you say that, Hermione? You're my best friend!"

Hermione stared into Ginny's brown eyes. "Blood is thicker than water." She continued staring until Ginny looked away. "Now, if you wouldn't mind leaving, I'd like to take a bath."

Harry didn't knock. He opened the door and let the light filter in behind him. Ron's bed curtains were drawn, as were the heavy drapes that covered the windows, shrouding the room in darkness. He spelled the sconces, dousing them immediately when Ron groaned.

"I'd ask if you were okay, but I think you've already answered that question."

"Go 'way, Harry."

"No." He opened Ron's curtains, his eyebrows lifting over his glasses at the sight. "You look like you just went a round or two with Lupin during a full moon."

Ron groaned again and pulled his pillow over his head. "Please go 'way?"

"Sorry. No." Harry sat silently for a few minutes. "You want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay." Harry grabbed the pillow and jerked it out of Ron's grasp. "Let's start again. You're going to talk about it and, if you start now, I won't ask you about the hard bits first."

"Got drunk."

"Yeah? That wasn't readily apparent or anything."

"I think they cocked-up the sober-up potion."

"Or maybe they were having a bit of fun at your expense?"

"Yeah," Ron reached for the pillow, sighing in defeat as Harry pulled it farther out of his reach. "Maybe." He was quiet again and Harry sighed.

"Should I ask about Hermione?"

"I was waiting with her. Fred was supposed to be there, but he was late and we were talking and it was almost like before she started dating him, when we could talk and joke and tease." He sighed sadly. "I was touching her. It was completely innocent, but then it wasn't." He made a face, suddenly angry again. "And then my stupid git of a brother showed up and then he was touching her and there was nothing innocent about it. And she was just letting him."

"They are dating, Ron," Harry reminded him gently.

"I was supposed to meet up with Luna and Neville but they weren't there. Somebody said I looked like I needed a drink."

"And you trusted them?"

Ron looked defiantly at Harry. "They were right."

"What then?"

"I drank it. And a few others."

"How many?"

"Four…plus."

"There were more than four?"

"I think so." Ron shrugged. "After the first sip of the fourth, I forgot what number came next."

Harry blew out a breath. "What happened?"

"Did you know that Fred asked her out just to get to me? Thought I was an idiot so he decided to prove it?"

"You knew that, Ron," Harry reminded him. "You just never did anything to try and change it. Sulked about Hermione and Fred going out and perpetuated that stupid ruse with Luna."

"Yeah. I know." He rubbed at his face, his skin a mottled mixture of red and white. "I just kept thinking that it was going to end. I thought maybe they were in on it together. That they weren't really…" He lay back on the bed and stared unseeing at the ceiling. "You ever had someone tell you something that everyone just knew was true? But you just couldn't believe it?"

Harry laughed bitterly for a moment then forced himself to stop before he lost control. "Uh. Once or twice."

"Right. Sorry." He sighed. "She showed up at the bar and she'd been crying. Her face was a mess, her hair looked like it'd been styled by a pixie, her robes were all mussed." He sneered at the memory. "She asked me to walk her back to school."

Harry waited for a few minutes before sighing himself. "And?"

"She told me Fred wanted to have sex with her. And then suddenly it clicked, you know? Not that he wanted to, but that they had been. She didn't look like all those things that I'd thought; she looked like someone had fucked her. Like my brother had fucked her."

"Oh."

"She was crying about how it was all my fault because I couldn't just tell her the truth, that I couldn't admit that I liked her. So I did."

"Admitted it?"

Ron shrugged, not looking in Harry's direction. "I just wanted to show her that I did fancy her, you know? I wanted to show her that Fred's not the only Weasley out there, that maybe someone else might have just as much to offer."

"Ron?"

He blinked back tears, his face drawn tightly, painfully as he turned his head away from Harry's penetrating gaze. "I didn't know, Harry. Or maybe I did."

"Ron?"

"It was her first time. Mine too, but I wasn't being forced against a brick wall and manhandled by some drunken lout. I thought that Fred had…I thought they'd…" Sobs shook his body and he curled into a ball, jerking away from the tentative hand Harry laid on his shoulder. "I had to think it, you know?" His voice was broken, the deep rasp puberty had given him gone, the sound childlike and lost. "Because I wanted her and I wanted to hurt her and I knew I couldn't do it, couldn't have done it, if she hadn't already with…"

Harry closed his eyes and laid a light hand on Ron's hair, stroking the short, tear- and sweat-damp strands. "It's gonna be all right, Ron."

"How?" He muttered through his tears. "How's it ever gonna be all right again?"

The common room was almost empty when Harry came down the stairs to join Ginny. She was sitting in front of the fireplace, staring at the flames, not moving at all. Her face was streaked, the only hint that she'd been crying. Harry sat next to her and glanced at the large chair to the right. "Hey, Neville."

"Is Ron okay, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest."

"Ginny said that Hermione's really upset." He sighed. "Maybe I could…"

"I don't think there's anything any of us can do," Ginny admitted with a sigh. She lifted her head and smiled at Neville. "But thank you."

He nodded. "I should just go to the feast then?"

"Aren't you supposed to be there already?" Harry asked. "With Luna?"

"I went down and told her I'd be a little late." He flushed and ducked his head. "You guys are my friends, you know?"

"We do know, Neville." Harry gave him a reassuring smile. "And I'm sure Ron'll apologize for the whole knocking you down the stairs thing."

"Just a few bumps and bruises. It's not like he tossed me out the window or something." Neville smiled and stood up. "You will let me know if there's anything, won't you?"

"We will." Ginny nodded, not saying anything until the portrait had closed behind him. As soon as it shut, she leaned back and let out a restrained scream. Harry slumped against the arm and closed his eyes. "My brothers need to be hung by their testicles from Mum's tallest tree."

"Um." Harry swallowed. "Remind me not to make you mad."

"Did he tell you he had sex with her?"

"Yeah." Harry picked at his robe where covered his knee, unwilling to look at her. "He seems to think he…well, forced it."

"Hermione says she wanted it." Ginny didn't look at him, staring down at her hands. "She hates me now. Just as much as she seems to hate them."

"Fred and her?"

"He told her he was only with her to get Ron to admit that he liked her. I don't know if she actually stuck around to hear the part where Fred actually fancies her now."

"Ron said that Fred told her he wanted to have sex with her."

"Well, she's probably figured it out then."

"What are they going to do?"

"I don't know." Ginny sighed miserably.

"What are we going to do?"

"I'm not going to the feast and sit through all the looks and questions and everything, that's all I know for sure."

"No," Harry agreed. "No desire to do that."

"Do you think…" She blushed furiously and looked at him through her lashes. "Do you think you could hold me, Harry? Give me a…"

Her request was cut off as he pulled her to him, burying her in his arms, against his chest, his own burning face lost in her swirl of hair.