Hedwig returned to Hogwarts with Tyler’s reply late the following evening, leaving Harry extremely impressed with the speed of her flight. He wondered briefly if she might not have some magical ability that helped her to fly such long distances so quickly, but these thoughts were quickly dispelled as he eagerly tore open Tyler’s letter.
“What’s he have to say?” Ron asked as Harry began unfolding the parchment. They were sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room along with Hermione and Ginny, and both boys welcomed the break from studying that was provided by the letter’s arrival.
“Well, I guess it won’t hurt to read it out loud, will it?” said Harry. “Hermione, you don’t mind, do you?”
“No, of course not, Harry,” she replied, looking up from her Charms essay. “I think we’re all interested in how Tyler’s getting along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.”
“Good,” said Harry. He cleared his throat and began to read.
“Dear Harry,
“There’s no need to apologize for not writing. After all, I didn’t write to you either. It’s really good to hear from you, though. Things are a lot quieter around the Burrow with just me, Molly, and Arthur. I guess you know that from you were here at the beginning of the summer, don’t you?
“He calls Mr. and Mrs. Weasley by their first names?” Harry wondered aloud. “I don’t even do that.”
“They wouldn’t mind if you did,” Ginny answered. “With Tyler living at the Burrow all the time now, they probably just told him to use their first names to make things a little less formal.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully and returned to the letter. “Squib classes are going fine. Actually, a lot of what we’re covering is stuff I already know - basic stuff that any Muggle would know, like how to catch a taxi and how to cook without magic. I’m really excited about the next unit, though. We’ll be starting Magical Devices, which I REALLY want to learn about, since it’s about all the cool magical stuff that regular old ‘Squibs’ like me can enjoy.
“Surprisingly, the twins seem really interested in my education right now.”
“The twins?” Harry asked aloud in amazement. “I didn’t think they found any sort of education interesting.”
“They don’t,” Ron confirmed. “Not unless it’s got something to do with pulling pranks, anyway.”
“Then why would they be interested in what Squibs learn?” Harry asked.
“Keep reading,” Hermione said without bothering to look up from her essay. “Maybe he’ll tell you.”
“Oh, right,” said Harry. Looking down at the letter, he began reading once again.
“They’re working on some new products to help Squibs manage better in the Wizarding world, but they’re still in the testing phases and they won’t tell me what exactly they’re making. They did say, though, that they’ll have to make sure whatever it is doesn’t work for some bloke named Filch.” Ron and Ginny began laughing heartily as Harry continued, “They never mentioned who he is, exactly, but I got the impression that he was a Squib that they’re not too fond of.”
“You could say that again,” Ron laughed. “The last time they saw Filch, he was trying to whip them for using one of their portable swamps in the corridor!”
Harry chuckled and kept reading. “About Snape: I told you not to worry. It’s just like I said, all hateful teachers are the same on some level. The same things that worked with Davies will work with anybody. Oh, and good luck with the blood vessel thing.”
“Blood vessel thing?” Hermione asked, looking up from her essay as Harry, Ron, and Ginny all suppressed their laughter. “What’s he talking about, Harry?”
“Er- I- well, Ginny and I-” Harry stammered.
“We’re trying to get Snape angry enough to pop a blood vessel in his forehead,” Ginny explained, as though this was a perfectly normal pastime.
Hermione looked back and forth between Harry and Ginny in disbelief. “But you can’t do that,” she insisted. “Professor Snape is a teacher. You can’t just go antagonizing teachers.”
“Relax, Hermione; it’s just a joke,” Ginny said with a laugh. “We’re only antagonizing him by doing well in his class. You know how much Snape hates Harry; it’s killing him that he hasn’t been able to find a reason to put him in detention.”
Hermione turned to stare wide-eyed at Harry. “You mean you’re not cheeking him or anything?”
Harry shook his head.
“You just brew your potions and he gets angry about it?”
Harry nodded.
Hermione let out a long breath as she slowly deflated. “Well, I suppose that’s his own fault if he wants to be angry with you for doing your work.”
“That’s what I said,” Harry agreed before going back to the letter.
“It might surprise you to find out that I already knew about the Sorting Hat, and it wasn’t from the Weasleys. Let’s just say you’re not the only person at Hogwarts who gets letters from me.” Here, Tyler had drawn a picture of a winking smiley face.
“Did one of you...?” Harry asked, looking around at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. They all shook their heads. “Then I wonder who it could be.”
“Well, we know he met Luna in Diagon Alley, and she and Neville were at both of our birthday parties,” Ginny mused. “Maybe he’s writing to one of them.”
“Or maybe Mum’s introduced him to somebody as a pen friend,” Ron suggested. “If that’s what’s going on, then we’ll never figure out who it is.”
Harry shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter all that much, really. I mean, it’ll be good for him to get to know other witches and wizards, right?”
“That’s right,” Hermione agreed. “After all, he’s not at Hogwarts, so we’re really his only connection to the Wizarding world at the moment. Branching out can only be good for him. What else does he have to say, Harry?”
Harry looked back down at the letter in his hands and finished reading.
“Take care of yourself, and good luck with you know who. Sweet dreams!
“Tyler.”
“What’s he mean about You-Know-Who?” Ron asked.
Harry laughed. “He’s not talking about Voldemort, Ron. He’s talking about-” He stopped abruptly as he realized that the person Tyler was referring to was sitting at the table with them.
“He’s talking about...?” Ron prompted.
Hermione rolled her eyes when Harry refused to answer. “Harry, it’s not as if everybody doesn’t already know.” Turning to Ron, she added, “He’s talking about Ginny. Honestly, can’t you pick up on any subtle hints?”
“Why go through the effort when you’re always there to tell me what they mean?” Ron answered with a smirk. “Speaking of all that, what is going on with you two?” he added, gesturing between Harry and Ginny.
Harry opened his mouth to say that nothing was going on, but Ginny beat him to it. “We’re friends,” she said simply. After a moment, she shot Harry a wink and added, “Good friends.”
For the remainder of September and October, life remained pretty much the same for Harry. Snape continued being an insufferable git, and seemed to get angrier with each day that passed without Harry giving him an excuse to take points from Gryffindor. He still took points, of course, but it always had to be in small amounts, since it was for tiny, imagined offenses. What seemed to rankle him the most, however, was the fact that he still couldn’t find an excuse to put Harry in detention.
During that same period of time, Harry was extremely relieved to notice that Hermione’s frequent inquiries about ‘the train incident,’ as he had begun calling it in his head, all but disappeared. He attributed her waning interest to a combination of Madam Pomfrey’s Hair-Growing Potion finally successfully restoring Malfoy’s sleek blonde hair, Hermione’s almost fanatical study habits, and her and Ron’s nearly constant Head duties (which Harry strongly suspected were often nothing more than excuses for the Head Boy and Head Girl to go snog in a broom cupboard somewhere). Of course, he also liked to think that his and Ginny’s pleas for Hermione to “drop it” every time the subject was broached had helped as well, although he couldn’t be sure.
As Halloween approached, so did excitement for the first Quidditch match of the season: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Ron had been working the team extra hard in his determination to beat the Slytherins in his final year, and as a result, Harry eagerly looked forward to Halloween, and his first truly free weekend of the term. He had it all planned out in his mind: the Halloween feast on Friday night, a trip to Hogsmeade on Saturday, and a lot of sleep on Sunday. Yes, this weekend would be perfect. And with a little luck, he might even be able to come one step closer to getting Ginny to overcome her doubts about their relationship.
During the first two months of term, things had remained more or less the same between Harry and Ginny. They worked together in several of their classes, and frequently shared jokes about how close they thought Snape was to bursting a blood vessel, but they hadn’t moved past that point. They actually spent so much time together that most of the school now assumed they were dating, even though that wasn’t the case. The real reason Harry spent nearly all his time with Ginny - besides the painfully obvious fact that he fancied her - was because he still didn’t really know anybody else in his year. He sometimes got the feeling that Ginny only hung around with him out of pity, but something about the way she looked at him, especially lately, let him know that that wasn’t the case.
As he entered the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry discretely touched the locket under his robes for good luck. Hurrying over to the Gryffindor table, he glanced around at the elaborate decorations and smiled to himself. This was how Halloween was supposed to look.
“Hi,” he said as he sat down between Ron and Ginny. “How’s the food?”
“Delicious,” Ron replied in between bites of roast potatoes. Harry began piling food onto his plate, and ended up eating with almost as much gusto as Ron. When Ron and Hermione decided to call it a night and head back to the common room, however, Harry deliberately stayed behind with Ginny, who was still working on a second helping of pudding.
“I don’t know where you put it all,” he commented, smiling and shaking his head as he watched her eat.
Ginny paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “What?”
“You eat almost as much as Ron, but you never gain any weight. You ought to figure out how to bottle that - there’s loads of people who’d kill for a metabolism like yours.”
Ginny laughed. “I don’t know how it works, but I’m glad it does.”
Harry continued watching her until she was finished. “Want me to walk you back to the tower?” he asked.
Ginny shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I guess I was sort of expecting it, to tell the truth.”
“Ah, so you like having me follow you around,” Harry said slyly.
She rolled her eyes at him. “That’s no secret, Harry.”
They left the Great Hall in companionable silence, and neither one spoke as they began ascending the staircase. When they reached the second floor landing, however, Harry suddenly pulled Ginny into an alcove behind a nearby suit of armor.
“Harry,” Ginny giggled. “What’re you doing?”
Instead of answering her question, he leaned down close to her ear and whispered in Parseltongue, “You are amazing, Ginny Weasley.” He smiled in satisfaction when he felt a slight tremor run through her and the giggling stopped. Pulling away just far enough to see her face, he held his breath and looked deep into her eyes. Her fear, which had slowly been diminishing over the past two months, was now barely a glimmer. Harry wet his lips nervously as he slowly leaned toward her. Her eyes fluttered closed and she tilted her head back in anticipation. Just as their lips were about to meet, she turned her head and pressed her cheek against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” she whispered as he let out a disappointed sigh. “Please, I need more time.”
Harry nodded silently, not trusting his voice, and just held her close for a long moment.
“Mr. Potter.” Professor Dumbledore’s voice suddenly cut through the silence, and Harry slowly released Ginny and turned around. “I need you to come with me, please.” It wasn’t a request; it was an order, and he didn’t wait for a response before turning around and hurrying down the staircase.
Harry cast one last glance at Ginny, who was smiling sadly at him with tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. The glimmer of fear still remained. He gave her a rueful smile before finally turning back around and hurrying after Dumbledore, who he didn’t catch until the old wizard had almost reached the front entrance to the caste.
“Professor?” Harry called as he stepped off the bottom of the staircase. “What’s going on?”
“Madam Umbridge’s trial begins in less than half an hour,” Dumbledore answered without slowing down. “I have just received word, and I’m sure that the suddenness of the trial, as well as the fact that it is taking place late on Halloween night, means that Minister Fudge is once again attempting to manipulate the legal system.”
They were running across the grounds now, and Harry was surprised at how quickly the old Headmaster was able to move. “What do I do when we get there?” he panted.
“Hopefully nothing,” Dumbledore answered in between breaths as he ran. He stopped as they reached the large iron gates guarding the entrance to the school. “However, just in case you need to testify, I need you there. But don’t say anything unless I tell you to.”
Harry nodded, and Dumbledore tapped the gates with his wand, causing them to swing open. They stepped out onto the road leading into Hogsmeade, and Dumbledore locked the gates behind them before holding out his arm for Harry to grasp and Disapparating.