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Part 1 Taking Time Off

***

Early morning sunlight was streaming into the Gryffindor common room, nicely illuminating the best table. It was currently piled high with books, notes, charts and the remnants of a hastily consumed breakfast. Three important looking seventh year students were conferring there, and all the other Gryffindors were giving them a wide berth.

At the head of the table a shapely young girl with bushy brown hair was giving instructions to the boys, both of whom had glazed looks in their eyes. "Now if we can finish reviewing history of magic by Monday, we can start on transfiguration next week."

A derisive noise came from across the table from her. The red-headed boy rested his chin in his hand and stared across the pile of books at her.

She stared back at him. "We can start charms instead if you like?" she asked in a dry tone.

"Transfiguration’s fine, Hermione," said the boy sitting next to her. “Isn’t it Ron?"

Without breaking eye contact with Hermione, Ron replied, "Sure, Harry, sure."

An uneasy silence followed as the staring match continued. "Good. Professor McGonagall is going to lend me a book Monday that she says will be very useful during our NEWT’s coming up," Hermione said stiffly.

Harry knew the tension between the two of them had less to do with study schedules than other things outside of the classroom. From the corner of his eyes Harry caught Ron's expression and knew he was thinking fast.

"Look Hermione, I know we have a lot to do in the next few weeks, but between your study schedules and classes, we haven't had time for so much as a decent meal. We'll burn out if we keep up this pace," Ron said, after carefully considering his argument.

Hermione broke eye contact with Ron and looked down at her notes. "I know this is hard, but this is our last big push. Seven years of work are coming down to this, and we only have twelve weeks left at Hogwarts," she said, not looking up.

"Yeah, not much time left to get it right," Ron said, his tone dark.

Looking from one to the other, Harry broke in. "I think you both have a point. This is important, but we don't just have to study for these tests, we have to take them too. We won't do well if we're brain-fried." Harry caught Ron's eyes and gave him a sly look that Hermione couldn't see. "It's almost the Easter holiday. I don't think that a couple of hours at the Three Broomsticks tonight could affect our study schedule that much."

Ron raised his chin off his hand, catching on.

"I don't know if we should," Hermione said, biting her lower lip and looking worried.

"Would it help if I got us a note from Professor McGonagall giving us permission?" Ron quipped. He reinforced his suggestion with his most winning smile.

It worked. Her stoic expression broke and she smiled back. "OK, I guess one Friday night out won't hurt us. We'll have to hit the books extra hard the rest of the weekend though."

Harry and Ron both raised their right hands as though taking a vow and said, "Promise."

"If we are going to do this, why not do it right?  Let's skip the house elf special and have dinner in town," Ron said enthusiastically.

Harry glanced at Ron and smiled. This was looking pretty good.

"Where?" asked Hermione

"How about the Magic Pan?" Ron asked. At that, even Harry looked surprised.

"Oh Ron, that's so expensive," Hermione gasped.

"Our time is more valuable than our gold right now, and this is important," Ron said looking at Hermione seriously. "It'll be my treat."

Hermione looked shocked but happy. Harry looked worried.

Hermione’s smile turned mischievous. "All right, but I’ll need to see that note by this afternoon," she teased.

Just then several owls fluttered in through the open common room window and began burying Harry in deliveries. He moaned, making no effort to retrieve the letters falling around him.

"Here we go," chuckled Ron, as the air filled with fluttering wings. ”I told you hiding in here wouldn’t work.”

"I think we're going for a record this time," Hermione said, collecting the letters into a neat pile.

"Now I know how Uncle Vernon felt," Harry sighed, as the last letter bounced off his head.

"So what's the tally today?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Twenty-five," she said, as she sorted them.

Looking at the letters for the first time, Harry asked, "Are any of them not job offers?"

"Let's see... Ministry law enforcement... Ministry games and sports… Quidditch England… Gringotts…" Hermione sifted through the stack. "Oooh, Gladdrags Wizardwear wants a male model for their new line of boxer shorts!" Hermione glanced up, a wicked gleam in her eye, as Harry buried his head in his hands. A snort erupted from Ron. Looking back down, Hermione continued, "Here's one from The Chocolate Frog Corporation. They want to make a card for you as soon as you graduate."

"OK, I’ll just look at these later," Harry said as he took the large stack of letters away from Hermione and stuck them in his transfiguration book. Hermione hid her smile behind a book and Ron shook with silent laughter, as they went back to work. What Ron and Hermione didn't see was Harry slip one of the letters out of the book and tuck it into his robe.

A few hours later, Hermione went back to the library for a fresh supply of books, giving Ron and Harry a chance to talk alone. "All right," Harry said, leaning close to Ron. "After classes I’ll tell Hermione that something's come up and I can't come."

"Great! Thanks Harry, I owe you one. I finally get a chance to go out with her without the ‘I just want to be friends’ speech," Ron whispered enthusiastically.

"She hasn't made it easy. Are you sure you'll be all right with The Magic Pan?" Harry asked, concerned. "It really is that expensive."

"Don't worry, I have all the money I haven't been spending on myself all year," Ron told him. "I want to show her that I want to make a commitment, and that's the setting to do it."

***

Later that day Ron could hardly stand to stay in his seat during his last classes before the holiday. He was so concerned about that night's event that it was difficult to focus on any of the lectures. He had asked her out at least a dozen times since Christmas, but she had always found an excuse not to go. Did she really want to avoid being alone with him? Maybe she was looking forward to getting away from Hogwarts and their time together? The thought made him feel hollow inside, so he tried not to dwell on it. During all the terrible things that had happened over the last two years only Hermione’s friendship had made it bearable. Another part of his mind was painfully aware that he was putting that friendship at risk by trying for more.

During lunch he composed and rejected about a hundred speeches to give to Hermione. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to ask her for. Should he just ask her out again? Should he ask her to go steady? That sounded kind of corny to him. Or maybe he should he should ask for something deeper? Yes, that's what he wanted, but it would be tricky. He knew he didn't dare use a word like commitment. He had to take it slower than that. Suddenly a new thought came into his head. Maybe he should tell her the truth. That he had fancied her ever since his spell to turn Scabbers yellow had failed. The thought made him shudder, but he knew that's what it would take. “Tonight’s the night,” he thought. “I have to let her know.”

Ron came back to reality and realized that he was sitting next to Dean, Seamus and Neville, who were obviously talking Quidditch.

"It was bad, yeah, but I've seen him fall from twice as high and walk away," Dean was saying.

"He's fallen from higher, sure, but I don't think he's ever fallen worse," Seamus replied, shaking his head.

"If only he'd let the snitch go and broken his fall. It was only an exhibition game," Neville added.

"Krum couldn't do that any more than he could fly without a broomstick," Seamus said gravely.

The mention of his ex-rival’s name brought Ron into the conversation. "What are you talking about?" he asked the three.

"Haven't you heard?" said Dean. " Viktor Krum took a bad spill during an exhibition match in Japan last week."

"Med wizards had to help him from the pitch," Neville piped in. "And the way he was holding his arm, it looked really bad."

"They haven't said any thing about it since the match, which is usually a bad sign," Seamus said gravely.

Since Hermione and Victor had broken up last Christmas, Ron supposed he could go back to being a fan of the famous Quidditch player. "Krum’s pretty tough, I bet he'll still make next season," Ron said.

***

Finally classes ended, and Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way into the Gryffindor common room.

"If we are going to eat someplace nice I’ll need to start getting ready," Hermione said, heading toward the girls’ dormitory.

Ron waited until he heard the door close before turning to Harry and asking, "Do you know what you are going to tell her yet?"

"Yeah, I'm going to have to call an emergency team meeting in the Quidditch locker room. I've got some things to talk to them about anyway."

"Great, you've been practicing so much that Hermione will believe that," Ron said.

They were just about to head up to the boy's dormitory when an owl tapped on the common room window. Mildly surprised, Harry opened the window to let it in. The tawny owl landed on the window sill and dropped a letter in front of him.

Harry's stomach lurched. Messages that arrived outside of mail time were almost never good news. He picked up the letter expecting to see either Alastor or Remus’s handwriting on the envelope. His jaw dropped in surprise when he ripped it open.

Finally Ron had to ask. "What is it?"

When Harry responded, it was obvious that he was in shock. "It's from my Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon has had a heart attack, he's in hospital. They want me to come down to help with things."

"Oh, Harry I'm…." Ron wasn't sure what to say. "Sorry," he finished lamely.

"It's OK," Harry said, quickly covering up the raw emotion on his face. "He's too stubborn to die. They just need an extra pair of hands."

"Look Harry," Ron said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Why don't I blow off this thing tonight and come with you?"

"Are you mad?" Harry shot back. "After all the trouble we went to? No way!"

"But Harry, You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters are still out there. You might need help," Ron said.

Harry cut him off. "Who knows when we can get Hermione to take time off again? This is your chance to have a real talk with her."

Ron looked hard at his friend as he folded up his letter and put it in his pocket.

"It's really not that big a deal. I just have to go for a few days. It's nothing I can't handle," Harry said seriously. "Now, just forget about this and get ready."

"All right," Ron said, feeling sure he wouldn't be able to change Harry's mind. "At least you can tell Hermione the truth when you say you can't come."

Harry smiled back at him slyly. "Move, the clock's ticking."

Harry waited until Ron had gone upstairs to drop his smile and let the worry he was feeling show. He took the letter out of his pocket and tried to sort out his feelings. Despite what he had told Ron, Uncle Vernon had apparently had a very close shave, and was not out of the woods yet. Harry thought back, but couldn't remember anything from Uncle Vernon warmer than indifference. Why then did the news that he was laying in a private hospital bed upset him so much? He hated Vernon Dursley, didn't he?

"Ron must really be distracted if he bought a speech like that," came a voice from one of the high-backed armchairs facing the fire.

Harry whirled around and reached in his robes.

Ginny Weasley got up from the armchair and turned to look at him. Harry smiled a little as he tucked his wand back into his pocket. "Or maybe we're all just getting careless," he said.

"So what are you going to do?" Ginny asked, trying to read his face, but his mask of indifference was back in place.

"I'm going to see Professor McGonagall and make arrangements to get to Surrey tonight," Harry replied coolly, heading for the portrait hole.

"Alone?" she asked to his back.

Harry looked back, allowing only annoyance to show. "Yes, alone. Because I don't need any help with this." With that, he stepped into the hall.

***

A few hours later Harry, Ron and Hermione left the grounds and headed for Hogsmeade. Ron and Hermione were in fine dress clothes, but Harry had a worn leather jacket and blue jeans with a bag over his shoulder.

"Are you sure you will be OK, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking worried.

"I’ll be fine. A few days driving Aunt Petunia back and forth from the hospital won't hurt much."

Hermione looked unconvinced. "But there was a Death Eater attack in London last week and--"

"And the Ministry has stepped up security." Harry cut her off. "I can't be afraid all the time. I have a life to lead. Besides, I'm in no more danger than anyone else."

This was a flat out lie, but Hermione let it go.

"Which is why you two should go out and have fun tonight. It's your duty in the fight against Voldemort to have the best time you can." Harry winked at Ron.

"How are you getting around?" Ron asked.

"Professor McGonagall gave me a bag of floo powder and Madam Rosmerta is letting me use the fireplace in a parlor of the Three Broomsticks," Harry said, as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

"It’s a shame you can't use it in the castle," Ron said.

"Well, we have to keep all the fireplaces out of the floo system, don't we, or any one could get in," Hermione added quickly.

"It also keeps us from flooing from one common room to another. Just imagine the fun of being able sneak into the Slytherin house," Ron laughed.

"Sauce for the goose. We'd have to post guards at all the fireplaces," Harry said, laughing too.

They reached the entrance the entrance of the Three Broomsticks and paused outside the door. "I’ll see you in a few days," Harry said from the doorway.

"Let us know what happens," Ron said, shaking Harry’s hand.

Harry waited until they started down the street before entering the Three Broomsticks. It wasn’t as crowded as it could have been for a Friday night, but the Easter holiday had begun and a lot of the students were with their families. He was met by Madam Rosmerta as soon as he walked in the door.

"Harry, good to see you," she said, leading him through the pub and into the back. "I’m so sorry to hear about your uncle. I do hope it isn’t serious."

"Thanks," Harry said, since he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

"I suppose I should let you get on then. The fireplace in here is always open." She pointed toward the parlor door with an odd expression on her face. "And Minerva told me that she had the fireplace at your uncle’s house reinstated into the floo system as well."

"Thanks again, I really appreciate this," he said, trying his best to be gracious, but wondering what she was smiling about.

Someone called for her at the bar. She gave him a last wave and hurried off. Harry watched her go with his eyes narrowed for a moment, then went in the parlor to find someone waiting there for him.

Ginny Weasley was standing by the mantle wearing muggle clothes and a trench coat with a small bag over her shoulder. He was careful not to let his amazement show too much as he walked in the room closing the door behind him.

"No," he said flatly, walking past her.

"You are going to need help, or at least some support," she replied.

"I appreciate the thought but…" ‘But there is no way I can keep Ginny from seeing through me on this trip.’ He finished the thought to himself before he spoke the rest aloud. "…you’ll get into a lot of trouble."

"Mum contacted Professor McGonagall and gave me permission to go. No one’s happy about the idea of you going off alone." She smiled triumphantly.

"This is the Dursleys we’re talking about. They won’t appreciate your help. They won’t even appreciate my help, and they asked for it." Harry was getting annoyed. Why was every one trying to get in the middle of this?

"I’m not going for them," Ginny said, keeping her voice calm, and walking up to him.

"And this is the muggle world. You have no idea how unpleasant this is going to be." Harry couldn’t believe he was losing this argument.

"Is that a reason for me to go or stay?" She smiled, but she was firm in her resolve.

Harry had to think. If he flatly refused to let her come he would have to admit that Uncle Vernon’s illness really upset him. "All right," he sighed. "But be careful what you say. Only the Dursleys know what we are."

"All right then," Ginny said, looking serious again.

"You go ahead," he said, offering her the bag of floo powder.

Ginny took a pinch of the powder, and threw it into the fire. It instantly turned green and flared up. She held her bag to her chest, stepped into the fire, and said, "Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging."

She spun in the fire and vanished. Harry couldn’t decide whether he was glad she was coming or not. There was no denying it felt good when she was around. On the other hand there was the fact that Aunt Petunia and Dudley would probably be no less hostile to them just because they were here to help. He took a pinch of floo power, threw it into the fire and put the bag away. Once again the fire flamed up and turned green. Harry steeped into the fire said "Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging," and the parlor spun out of sight.

***