The Potter Twins and the Half-Blood Prince {6}

23. The Seer's Tale

"Help yourself, hell to the rest. Even the one who loves you best." - When the Chips are Down, Hadestown

The fact that Harry is now going out with Ginny seems to interest a great number of people, most of them girls, yet Harry finds himself newly and happily impervious to gossip. After all, it must make a very nice change to be talked about because of something which makes him so happy, rather than the tedious break-up gossip I'm still enduring.

"You'd think people had better things to gossip about," says Ginny, as she sits on the common room floor, leaning against Harry's leg and reading the Daily Prophet. "Three dementor attacks in a week and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it's true you've got a Hippogriff tattooed across your chest."

Ron, Hermione, and I all roar with laughter, and Harry ignores us, poking my ribs with a glare.

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her it's a Hungarian Horntail," says Ginny, turning a page of the newspaper idly. "Much more macho."

"Thanks," says Harry, grinning. "And what did you tell her Ron's got?"

"A Pygmy Puff, but I didn't say where."

Ron scowls as Hermione and I roll around laughing.

"Watch it," he says, pointing warningly at Harry and Ginny. "Just because I've given my permission doesn't mean I can't withdraw it --"

"Your permission'" Ginny scoffs. "Since when did you give me permission to do anything? How come we don't need Haylee's permission? Anyway, you said yourself you'd rather it was Harry than Michael, or Dean, or Ash."

I hear little of Asher and the Saunters nowadays; I only hope that they're able to find some sort of solace.

"Yeah, I would," Ron says grudgingly. "And just as long as you don't start snogging each other in public -"

"You filthy hypocrite! What about you and Lavender, thrashing around like a pair of eels all over the place?" Ginny demands.

But Ron's tolerance is not to be tested as we move into June, for Harry and Ginny's time together is becoming increasingly restricted. Ginny's OWL's are approaching and she is therefore forced to study for hours into the night. On one such evening, when Ginny has retired to the library, Harry sits with me beside the window in the common room, both of us attempting to study but in reality, our minds are elsewhere. And as I remember a particularly happy hour I once spent with Draco by the lake, Hermione drops into the seat between Ron and me with an unpleasantly purposeful look on her face.

"I want to talk to you, Harry."

"What about?" says Harry suspiciously. Only yesterday, Hermione had told him off for distracting Ginny when he needed to be studying.

"The so-called Half-Blood Prince."

"Oh, not again," he groans. "Will you please drop it?"

"Yes, this again," I say, quickly. "Do you seriously not want to know who it is?"

I know for certain that Harry as not returned to the Room of Requirement to retrieve his book due to his performance in Potions, which Slughorn, who approves of Ginny, has jocularly attributed this to Harry being lovesick. However, I'm also certain that Snape has not given up hope of laying hands on the Prince's book, prompting Harry to leave it where it is while Snape remains on the lookout.

"Exactly, I'm not dropping it," says Hermione firmly, "until you've heard me out. Now, I've been trying to find out who might make a hobby of inventing Dark spells --"