A/N: First off I have to say, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, even though it’s taken me SO long to update. I figure, I owe you one, so here’s another quick update. Also, thank you much to Shannon who is now modding this story. I appreciate it! This chapter is mostly a bit of fluff, but don’t think I’m slacking off! I thought it would be good to have a pretty normal chapter before the bad stuff in the next one. Hope you enjoy!

Piercing fingers of sunlight stabbed through the window of Hermione’s room, shining through the dream-clouded depths of her sleep. Smiling a little and stretching like a contented cat, Hermione slowly opened her eyes, turning over to look at the slumbering form next to her. After Ron had given her the flower ring last night Hermione had allowed him to sleep in her room, just so she could feel close to him. She’d only allowed it after making Ron promise that he’d behave and not revert to ‘naughty Ron’ kind of behavior.

Hermione carefully studied Ron as he slept, snoring quite loudly. Gingery freckles peppered the nose and cheeks she so loved to place soft kisses on. Unruly strands of Weasley-red hair hung down over now-closed blue eyes that she loved to lose herself in. And those lips that so often stammered, swore, and said the wrong things; the things those lips made her feel when pressed against her own. Had it really happened? Had Ron actually told her he wanted to marry her? Hermione looked at the beautiful morning glory and sapphire ring and knew it hadn’t been yet another beautiful dream. She found herself unable to resist tracing a finger along his jawline. As soon as her finger made contact with his face, Hermione received a charge of electrical shock.

“Ow!”

Hermione quickly jerked her shocked finger back. Apparently Ron had felt it as well, because he bolted upright. “What in the bloody hell was that for?”

Hermione looked perplexed. “I…I really don’t know, Ron. I didn’t try to shock you on purpose. I…just tried to touch your face and it sort of happened.”

Ron tentatively reached out to touch Hermione and felt himself pushed from her loft bed by some unseen force. Hermione quickly scrambled to the edge of the bed. “Oh, Ron! Are you all right?”

Ron’s eyes held a bit of hurt when he looked up at Hermione. “I’m splendid. I think I’m going to dress and go down to breakfast,” he said, getting up and dusting himself off. “By the way, if you wanted a moment alone you could have just told me. There was no need to shove me into the floor. I’ll see you later, Hermione. Maybe you’ll be in a better mood then.”

Hermione very ungracefully descended from her bed and ran after Ron’s retreating form. “But, Ron, I honestly didn’t do anything. Please come back.”

As she grabbed him by his shoulder, Ron felt something kick him in the backside quite hard, sending him sprawling forward. He looked over his shoulder from his spot on the floor. “And I suppose you didn’t do that either. Listen, I get the message. You’re afraid I’m trying to ravage you or something. Don’t worry…I won’t try to touch you again. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said, once again getting to his feet, “my wounded pride and I are going for a spot of breakfast.”

Hermione was too confused to do anything to stop him. She had seen Ron pushed forward, but not what had done it.

“There is something not normal going on. I need to find out what it is and get Ron to listen to me,” she thought to herself. A plan quickly formulated in her mind. Running back up the spiral stairs to her room, Hermione rummaged through the desk under her bed until she found a piece of parchment. She grabbed the quill that stood in the ink well on top of the desk and quickly scrawled a note. After signing her name at the bottom, Hermione quickly read over it a few times. Satisfied, she folded the parchment and went downstairs in search of Crookshanks, who happened to be curled up in front of the fireplace sleeping.

“There’s my good kitty. Crooks, I need you to take this note and give it to one of the school owls…quick as you can.”

Crookshanks seemed to sense his mistress’ s distress and quickly snatched the note in her outstretched hand in his mouth. “Now to find Zeppie,” Hermione said, as she watched Crookshanks quickly pad out of the room.

“Well, Morgan, you appear to be right as rain. Looks like your allergies are gone,” Charlie said, carefully inspecting the areas where she had been affected. It was at that point that Charlie noticed that Morgan hadn’t responded to one thing he’d said all morning. Where were the witty remarks and the usual bum-smacking with her tail? She had been uncharacteristically quiet.

Charlie came around to Morgan’s front side where her head lie on the ground. She appeared to be staring off into the swaying trees ahead. “Morgan, are you feeling all right?”

Morgan replied, not ceasing her dull stare off into nowhere. “Yeah, I’m just ducky. Couldn’t be happier, mate.”

Charlie, in all his wisdom, couldn’t figure out what could be wrong with her. Her dragon allergies were all cleared up and she was healthy as could be. Why…she could leave anytime she wanted. Suddenly, understanding fell on Charlie like a load of bricks. She didn’t want to leave! Morgan had told him many times how lonely it had been being stuck as a dragon all these years. Here, in this place, she had friends. Charlie and Hagrid were both with her at least once a day. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny also visited her as often as possible. Here, Morgan had no reason to be lonely, even as a dragon.

“You know, Morgan, I’ve been thinking. I’ve been working on Dragon Shield charms with my seventh year students. The dragon models we’ve been using are pretty effective, but what better way to practice Dragon Shield charms than against a real dragon? Think it would be within your power to stay on for a bit longer? It would mean I’d have to bring more people down here, but-”

“I’d really like to help you out, Charlie,” Morgan interrupted, “but only if you really need me.

Charlie patted Morgan’s now-uplifted head. “Of course I need you, Morgan.”

Morgan glanced down at the ground, as if she was suddenly overcome with shyness. “Charlie…I’d like to show you something…if you have the time.”

Charlie had noticed that when Morgan was feeling serious, which was rare, that she spoke without her usual slang. “All right, Morgan. Show me.”

Morgan raised herself up to her full, impressive height, outstretching her beautiful wings. She began to beat them faster and faster, never leaving the ground. “Look into my eyes, Charlie.”

Charlie did as Morgan asked and looked into her large, iridescent eyes. He felt himself growing more and more light-headed the faster she beat her wings. Suddenly he felt himself falling. It was like he was tumbling through an endless, dark sky. He couldn’t see anything. Finally he came to a stop. Light began to filter in through the darkness until Charlie could take in his surroundings. All around him was flat grassland, dotted here and there with scrub bushes. Before him stood a grove of tall, spindly trees with thick, lush leaves. The air all around him felt hot and thick. The sky was painted many warm colors and was filled with the cries of odd birds the likes of which he’d never seen. Strange music dominated by drum beats seemed to fill the air, coming from somewhere far off.

From out of the grove of trees, Charlie could make out the form of a young woman emerging. As she got closer, Charlie got to his feet, still not understanding where he was or what was going on. The young woman was extremely thin. Mrs. Weasley would say she could use a bit of fattening up. Her garments bespoke her high station in life. She wore sleeveless robes; the style Greek witches used to wear. They were of a rich blue material that seemed to swirl around her as she walked, even though there was no breeze. As far as looks went, she was no stunning beauty. However there was something about her that was captivating. Her dark hair hung in unruly strands reaching just to the bottom of her chin. Thin lips, high cheekbones…and her eyes! That was what seemed to be drawing Charlie to her. The corneas of her eyes were as many colored and iridescent as-

“Morgan?” Charlie asked in disbelief. “But how…where?”

“Please, Charlie, don’t waste time with questions. I can only project my image…and this place, for a short time. I wanted to show you me…as I truly am.”

“How can you-”

“Again with the questions, Charlie? You’re not a very trusting bloke, are you?”

“All right, Morgan. I’ll play along. Where are we?”

“This was one of my favorite hideouts in the African Savannah. I think I spent more time here than anywhere else.”

Morgan reached out her hands. “Come with me, Charlie…please? There’s not much time.”

Charlie walked forward and took Morgan’s left hand in his right. Even in the heat, it felt comfortably cool in his own. She smiled up at him. “Thanks, Charlie. Come on.”

Hand in hand Morgan led Charlie to her secret tree grove.

“You know, Draco, I can carry my own books. It’s not like I’m as helpless as a Plothrunt.”

Draco had no idea what a Plothrunt was and he had no intention of asking. Much as he loved Luna’s constant companionship, he wasn’t quite in the mood for ramblings about Plothrunts just now. He was simply too tired. Since Luna’s release from the hospital wing, Draco had been her faithful bodyguard. He carried her books, walked with her everywhere, and opened all her mail before letting her have it. Luna had tried to protest at first, but Draco cut quite the commanding figure when he wanted to, so she had just given in. Draco also had the added advantage of being a Prefect and could patrol the halls outside the Ravenclaw dorms at night without fear of getting in trouble. He always seemed to be tired now, but at least he was keeping his promise. Luna had remained safe ever since her encounter with the coral snake.

“I’m perfectly aware that you are capable of carrying your own books, Luna. I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“I know, Draco. You really are the most attentive beau I’ve ever had. Actually…you’re the only beau I’ve ever had. I wonder why that is. If I were a boy, I would find myself refreshingly charming.”

Draco smiled, as he always did at Luna’s amusing banter. “All right then, how about we grab a bite of breakfast. The owl post should be arriving soon and I’ll have to go through your mail.”

As they entered the Great Hall, Luna frowned a bit. “Did you ever think that maybe I’m too short, Draco? If I were as tall as you, you wouldn’t have to stoop over to kiss me. That kind of thing could eventually lead to a bad back. Draco, I’d feel awful if you were to get a back injury on my account.”

Again Draco smiled his half-smile. Life with Luna was never dull. “Don’t be silly, Luna,” he said as they sat down. “You’re just the right height for me to rest my chin on your head, and it’s terribly comfortable.”

“Oh, Draco, how brilliant! That would make a splendid t-shirt slogan; ’Draco’s Chin Rest’. I’ll have to see about having one made up.”

Before he could reply, the owl post swooped in, dropping three packages in front of Luna. The first was from her father and contained a string of obviously fake pearls and a new pale pink cloak. The second turned out to be a box of chocolates from a Quibbler reader.

“Don’t eat those. I don’t like the look of them. If you want chocolates I’ll buy you some at Hogsmeade over the weekend.”

Luna smiled and kissed the back of Draco’s hand as he pulled a letter off of the third package. It was also from a Quibbler reader. He rambled on and on about Luna’s goddess-like beauty in the newspaper clippings he’d kept from articles on she and her fathers trips. He closed by saying that he hoped she would wear the enclosed item and that someday he could see her do so in person. Draco crumpled up the letter and tore open the package. Inside was something that looked like a bit of bright pink lace and string. Luna reached in and pulled it out.

“Another head scarf? He’s already sent me about ten of these.”

Draco took one look at what Luna had pulled out of the box and felt a deep suspicion that it wasn’t a head scarf. He knew he’d seen one before, but couldn’t quite place it. Suddenly an image came unbidden to Draco’s mind of a Muggle magazine Goyle had showed him once called Victoria’s Secret. All at once he knew what it was and what it was for. This was what Muggles referred to as…a thong!

“Luna! Put it back in the box before someone sees!”

“Why, Draco? Is it not a head scarf? Is it something bad?”

“Yes…yes it’s bad,” Draco said, color flooding to his cheeks at the thought of Luna wearing that thing.

“Worse than the chocolates?”

“Yes, Luna, much worse than the chocolates. I’m going to have to start monitoring your mail much more closely I think.”

The time between the end of classes and dinner found Harry and Ginny out for a stroll with Padfoot. “Are you really sure you don’t mind walking with us?” Ginny asked uncertainly. “Hermione and Ron both seemed to be in right foul moods. Maybe we should have stayed up there to help.”

Harry shook his head. “They’ve got to learn to deal with their problems on their own someday. Hermione told me she had things well in hand. Besides, I bet Morgan could probably use a visit.”

Ginny snickered. “She’s probably already having a visit with Charlie, but let’s go anyways.”

An early evening breeze swirled up leaves across the path in front of Harry and Ginny. Playfully Harry reached out to tweak a strand of purple hair as they made their way to Morgan’s clearing. As they came out of the trees, the scene that lay before them stopped them in their tracks. Morgan stared intently down at a form that lay unmoving on the ground. When Ginny got close enough to realize it was Charlie, she ran to his side. He was still breathing, but wasn’t moving a muscle. Morgan was no help as she appeared to be in some type of trance.

“Harry! Harry, help me wake him up!”

Charlie thought it felt like he and Morgan had been talking for ages inside her grove of trees, but he knew that it had actually only been moments. They now both sat still, quietly taking in the scenery around them, and still holding hands. It had seemed natural to Charlie to keep holding Morgan’s too-thin hand in his own as they sat engulfed in tall grasses that swayed in the breezes. The ripples that appeared on the top of the grasses as they moved reminded Charlie of the ocean. There was a chorus of animal sounds all around them and an odd, somewhat intoxicating, spicy scent wafted on the breeze. Charlie felt strangely at ease. All of a sudden the hand in his that had felt cool and solid seemed to flicker. Charlie looked at Morgan and began to panic as he realized she was beginning to fade.

“Morgan!”

Morgan smiled a sad smile. “Sorry, Charlie. I told you there wouldn’t be much time. I’m just glad we had as long as we did. It was nice to finally touch you with my own human hand. Maybe someday…”

“But, Morgan, I want to spend more time with you. I have so much more to say.”

“It’ll have to wait, Charlie. Just be patient.”

Charlie made up his mind to not waste his last precious seconds with this form of Morgan. He closed his eyes, leaned forward, and…

“Charlie!”

Charlie bolted up right from the unexpected and painful contact of Ginny’s palm against his cheek as she slapped him awake.

“Oh, Charllie, you’re alright!” Ginny screeched, flinging her arms around her brother. It took him a minute to realize where he was and what he’d not been able to do before being drawn back. He pushed Ginny away and got to his feet.

“Merlin’s nightgown, Ginny. You two have got the worst timing in the world.”

Ginny looked a bit taken aback. “What are you talking about, Charlie? I thought that you were hurt!”

Charlie stopped and realized that it was perfectly normal for his baby sister to have been worried by what she saw. “I was fine, Ginny; just taking a bit of a nap.”

“What about Morgan? Is she all right?” Harry asked.

Charlie turned to see that Morgan was still deep in her ’dragon trance’. He walked around to her backside and gave her hindquarters a right smart slap.

Morgan reared up and spun to face Charlie. “Hey! What was that for?”

Charllie smiled. “Well, you’re always doing it to me. I was just returning the favor.”

Charlie’s face took on a more serious look. “Can you…can you do it again?”

Harry and Ginny realized that they were now being ignored. They looked quietly at each other, silently agreeing that they should leave. Ginny gathered Padfoot in her arms and she and Harry quietly backed out of the clearing.

“Can you?” Charlie asked again when Morgan didn’t answer.

Sadly Morgan raised her pearly-scaled head. “I don’t know. I’ve never done it before. I mean, I knew I could, but I never wanted to. It really takes a lot out of me. I don’t expect I’ll be able to do it for a long time.”

Charlie smiled and patted Morgan’s side. “That’s all right, Morgan. It was nice while it lasted. Besides, we’ll figure out how to get you back to normal. I swear we will.”

A large barn owl swooped Ron on his way into the Great Hall for dinner. He swore under his breath about mental birds before realizing it had dropped a letter at this feet. Curiously he picked it up, opened it, and read.

Ron, I just had to tell you that all of that stuff this morning wasn’t me. I know it sounds strange, but something is going on and we have to find out what. Please forgive me and please come have dinner with me in our common room. Love, Hermione

Ron hesitated only a second before turning and running towards his dorm. He’d avoided Hermione all day, which for him was a form of torture. Maybe he had been a bit silly.

When he entered the common room the only light came from the roaring fire in the fireplace. As Ron got closer he could see an assortment of strange foods laid out on the copper table in front of the couch. There were two large pillows at either end of the table.

“Go ahead and sit down, Ron. I’ll be right there.”

Ron sat on one of the large, overstuffed pillows and surveyed the food. He didn’t recognize one dish on the table.

“It’s all Asian food. Zeppie made it.”

Ron’s head whirled around to the sound of Hermione’s voice. As she entered the flickering light from the fireplace, Ron felt himself growing hungry for something the table of food in front of him couldn’t satisfy. In the dancing firelight he could see that she was wearing a sleeveless peach sundress that laced up the front. He remembered that she had worn it many times over the summer at the Burrow and that it was one of his favorites. She had her hair pulled up in a loose bun that only left a few curling tendrils hanging down against the exposed nape of her neck. And as she rounded the couch, Ron could see that she was barefoot. He loved to see her barefoot.

She smiled tentatively as she sat across from him. “Okay now?”

Ron smiled back. “Okay. Hermione, some of this food looks a bit dodgy. You sure it’s all right?”

“Well, Zeppie’s never made bad food before. And I’ve eaten Asian food loads of times with my parents. Give it a try.”

Even though Ron had never had any Asian food before, and even though Hermione couldn’t remember the names of all the dishes, they both found the food to be delicious. It even made them momentarily forget about the problems from that morning. When they were done, Hermione reached over and grabbed a cookie from a small plate.

“Now I do remember what these are. They’re fortune cookies. You break it open and there’s a little slip of paper inside with your fortune on it. Go ahead and read yours, Ron.”

Ron reached over and took one of the cookies, breaking it open and pulling out his fortune. “You love Chinese food,” he read. All of a sudden he felt compelled to start eating again. “I do. I really do love Chinese food,” he said as he shoveled more food in his mouth.

Hermione thought there was something strange, and wondered if there was such a thing as magic fortune cookies. When she opened her cookie, showers of gold sparks flew into the air. She pulled out her fortune, reading it to herself. “Accept the next proposition you hear.”

Ron’s head snapped up. He hadn’t been able to hear what Hermione’s fortune said but found himself asking, “Hermione, fancy a swim in the big tub?”

Hermione felt herself compelled to answer, “Alright, Ron, but only if we wear suits.”

This is how Ron and Hermione found themselves at opposite ends of the tub, wearing less than they’d ever worn in front of each other, both openly gaping.

“So…uh…nice tub, eh?” Ron asked.

“Oh, yes…it’s lovely,” Hermione agreed.

“Uh…nice bathing suit,” Ron muttered.

“Oh yes, it’s lovely,” Hermione agreed. She was more interested in watching the water ripple in little waves against Ron’s chest than with what she was saying.

Ron finally decided he’d had enough. “Right then.”

He crossed the tub, closing the distance between himself and Hermione. Reaching out quickly, he pulled her to him, crushing his lips against hers. That’s when it happened. Large bells appeared in the air around their heads clanging loudly. They were joined by several sets of cymbals crashing.

Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and dragged her out of the tub. He pulled her into the common room in an attempt to escape the cacophony that was following them, sailing through the air above their heads. In their attempt to flee, they crashed into Charlie, who had just entered. As soon as the contact between Ron and Hermione was broken, the bells and cymbals disappeared.

Charlie took in Ron and Hermione’s wet, bathing suit clad appearance and smiled. “I see Mum’s Chastity Charm is working. And none to soon by the look of things.”

A/N: I am truly sorry about that, but you all had to know things were going along too smoothly. It doesn’t promise to get any better in the next chapter. By the way, if anyone has any ideas they’d like to contribute, feel free to do so. I can’t promise I’ll use them because most of the rest of this story is mapped out, but you never can tell where a fresh idea might fit in.