Harmonics Transcript #5

[poppywillow]

Harmonics Transcript #5

For I am the story teller, here to spin you a tale. Welcome to Harmonics.

Hello, this is avidbeader I`m pinch hitting for Misti for this episode of Harmonics as she`s a little under the weather and consequently has very little voice. For this episode of Harmonics I will be finishing the fanfic by bentheslayer Girls Night In. Chapter 5 - Truth and Consequences.

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Girls Night In by bentheslayer Chapter 5

This story and Bentheslayer`s other stories can be found on Portkey

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Girls Night In by bentheslayer
Chapter 5 - Truth and Consequences

It should have been one of the happiest days of his life, Harry thought sadly, as he lay under the covers of his bed in the sixth-year boys dormitory, bathed in the soft light of the sun coming in through the window. He had awoken about twenty minutes earlier, and in his rather groggy early-morning state it had taken him a moment to remember why there was a huge grin plastered on his face and a warm feeling in his chest - a rather strange feeling compared to the sharp pains of sorrow he usually carried around with him, threatening to flare up whenever memories of Sirius or his parents came to him. He had lain there, snug in the warmth of his blankets, remembering the words that they had spoken to each other and the feeling of her kisses and holding her, excited at the prospect of the many more kisses he hoped were to come. But his happiness had quickly turned bittersweet as he remembered what else had happened.

Ron.

The look on his face, so white he could have been mistaken for one of Hogwarts' resident ghosts, had been pure shock and terror. There had been no sign of anger, which had worried Harry the most as he watched his red-haired best friend bolt back up the stairs. He was sure that there would be anger, and plenty of it, but only if Ron decided to speak to him . . .

"I'd better go and talk to him," Harry said, letting go of Hermione reluctantly.

"I don't think he's much in the mood for talking."
"I know. But I'd better try."

Hermione nodded. She had regained a little of her composure, but Harry could still see the same look of guilt in her eyes that was shining in his own.

"We've really hurt him, haven't we?"

"I think so," said Hermione. "Oh, what a mess."

"Hey!"

"Well, not all a mess . . . "

She reached up (when did he get so tall, she wondered?) and gave him one last kiss.

"Good luck," she said, running one hand through his hair. "Meet me in here before breakfast, OK?"

"Okay."

He squeezed her hand affectionately and then she was gone. He turned to the stairway leading to the boys dorms and, steeling himself, went up to the sixth-year dorm at the very top of the tower. It was dark inside, lit only by one small lantern in the corner, and punctuated by the deep snores of Dean. Neville and Seamus didn't snore, but Seamus was a very messy sleeper; as Harry closed the door he could see one of Seamus' legs sticking out from underneath the drapes of his bed at an unusual angle. The drapes were drawn around Ron's bed and he could see his friends' silhouette laying still, but he had to be awake.

"Ron?" he said, quietly enough so as not to wake the other boys up.

No answer.

"Ron, I know you're awake. Please talk to me."

There was no sign of movement from Ron. Harry sat down on the edge of his own bed and stared at the drape forming a barrier between them. He wanted to rip it down but didn't want to cause a commotion and wake the others up.

"Ron, I'm sorry. We both are. This isn't the way I wanted it to happen."

In the silence that followed Harry realised that he didn't actually know how he had wanted Ron to find out about him and Hermione. With a great amount of guilt, he realised he had given no consideration to Ron's feelings at all . . .

Harry turned over and looked at Ron's empty bed. It had been empty when he had woken up; it was still fairly early but the only other occupant of the room was Neville who was still asleep. No doubt Seamus and Dean were already at breakfast, enjoying the excitement of the upcoming match.

Ron's my best friend too, Harry thought grimly. He and Hermione both . . . the three of us, that's how we work. And I ignored his feelings completely.

He was ashamed of himself. Hadn't Ron even admitted to him, so to speak, that he had feelings for Hermione himself? In this very room, earlier in the week when this whole truth-or-dare revelation had been brought to their attention by the girls?

I was so worried about ruining my friendship with Hermione that I didn't even consider the possibility of it could mess things up with Ron too. Humph. Some best mate I am.

His stomach rumbled, which made him finally leave the cosiness of his bed. The thought that Hermione was probably waiting for him downstairs was a great comfort; they were in this together after all. Perhaps Ron would listen to her, as he obviously didn't want to hear from Harry at the moment.

Harry picked up his glasses from their spot on the nightstand next to his little model of a Hungarian Horntail, which was napping peacefully in a patch of sunlight.

"All right for some, isn't it," Harry muttered as he set about getting dressed. He chose the same jeans he wore the night before and then pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt. It didn't matter much what he wore (not that he had a lot of choice, as most of his limited Muggle wardrobe were still cast-offs from Dudley) as he would be changing into his Quidditch robes before long. Stashing his wand in one pocket he set off, equally sombre about Ron and aglow about Hermione, but only got to the foot of the stairs before he was stopped in his tracks.

Hermione was waiting for him, talking to a gleeful-looking Ginny, and she was a vision.
She hadn't exactly dressed up or anything, though. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail - not something she did often - and she was wearing the same jeans she'd had since the start of fifth year and a bright red cardigan she'd had since the third year, only now it accented the obvious development she'd undergone in the chest area . . .

Stop staring at her breasts, Harry.

It was the first time that rather familiar voice had addressed him by his name; the shock of it brought him back out of his reverie. Hermione looked just like Hermione always did, but Harry had never thought she looked more beautiful.

He walked over, aware of the rather silly expression on his face, and found both Hermione and Ginny giggling uncontrollably. He had no doubt he had just been the subject of a very girly conversation.

"Morning Harry," Ginny said, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Good morning Ginny."

He turned from her to Hermione. There she was, right there, and there was Ginny, obviously waiting to see them kiss for her grin had grown even wider.

"Good morning Harry."

"Good morning," he said shyly. "You, um, you look nice . . ."

"Thank you. I thought red because, you know, Gryffindor."

He had the distinct feeling that Hermione was waiting to see if he'd kiss her in front of Ginny too. He hoped this wasn't some kind of boyfriend test; it wouldn't do to fail on his first day . . .

Ginny was now rocking back and forth on her feet. Harry looked into Hermione's eyes, his awkwardness and uncertainty plain to see, and was relieved when the look in her eyes said it's all right. That was all he needed. He leaned into her and they brushed their lips together softly, tenderly. When he opened his eyes again Hermione had that rather glazed look again and Ginny was squealing with delight.

"You two are the cutest!" she said happily.

"Thanks, Gin."

Harry had gone rather red.

This is going to take some getting used to, he thought. Kissing Hermione was something new, and kissing her in front of other people was even more new. And here was something else new, as he felt her hand slip comfortably into his own as the three of them began to make their way down to the Great Hall, Hermione picking up her scarf as they went. There weren't many other students about, but the few they passed all seemed to notice the couple walking together, some regarding them with grins and others with looks of surprise. Ginny still wore the biggest grin of all.

"Everyone keeps looking at us," Harry said to Hermione as they passed a suit of armour he swore had turned to gawk at them.

"I know," Hermione said, shooting a stern gaze at the suit of armour which hurriedly turned its head back with a rusty squeak, trying to look innocent. "But it's only to be expected, Harry."

"I had the same thing when I got with Dean," added Ginny, sagely.

"Why did you two break up, anyway?" Harry asked as they passed along a corridor on the fourth floor.

"He was nice enough," Ginny said, shrugging, "but all he ever talked about was that Muggle sport, football. I couldn't handle it. Quidditch would have been fine, but it was all 'West Ham' this and 'West Ham' that."

They walked on, Harry holding a tapestry aside so the girls could step through first.
"How come you don't like football, Harry?" Ginny asked, her voice echoing slightly as they walked down the passageway behind the tapestry. "I thought that all Muggle-raised boys were mad about it."

Harry hung his head for a moment.

"Well Gin," he said, "I, uh, never got to watch it or play it. I was in a cupboard."
He felt Hermione's hand squeeze his own tightly; Ginny turned bright red in embarrassment.

"Oh Harry I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't think . . ."

"It's all right Ginny, don't worry about it. I'll take Quidditch over football any day."

The silence that followed them down the next few corridors was rather uncomfortable. Hermione finally broke it when they reached the top of the grand staircase in the entrance hall, unable to hold back the question any longer.

"Harry? Did you . . . did you talk to Ron last night?"

Harry shook his head sadly.

"He wouldn't speak to me. I know he was awake, but he wouldn't answer me."

"My brother can be such an idiot sometimes," Ginny said crossly.

"He has a right to be upset," Hermione said. "This can't be easy for him."

"No reason to be a prat though," said Ginny.

"I don't think he wants to speak to me," Harry said to Hermione, "but he might speak to you? It's worth a try."

"I'll go and see," Hermione said, giving his hand another squeeze as the three of them entered the Great Hall. It was very crowded and noisy with the buzz of breakfast conversation, but that buzz intensified as people noticed Harry and Hermione holding hands and soon many people were craning their necks to see, this new gossip spreading like wildfire along the house tables. Hermione propelled him along to the Gryffindor table purposefully and there at last they found Ron, sitting further down the table than usual next to Fred and George and looking very glum. He looked up slowly as he noticed the increase in noise and his sad expression turned to a scowl as he spotted Harry and Hermione with their hands linked together.

"I think," Ginny said delicately, "that it might be best if I go and have a word with him first."

Without waiting for an answer she walked off towards her brothers. Harry and Hermione took seats opposite each other and began buttering toast; Harry, trying to watch Ginny's progress as discreetly as he could, didn't pay much attention to what he was doing.

"Harry, you're spreading marmalade on your sleeve."

"What? Oh, bloody hell."

Hermione hid her grin as she watched her boyfriend wipe his sleeve hurriedly with a napkin.

Boyfriend, Hermione thought. It's got a rather nice ring to it.

"Calm down," she told him.

"I'm trying, honestly," Harry said, giving up on the marmalade and biting into his toast. "I just wish Ron would have spoken to me. This is so awkward. And the match is in less than an hour! How are we supposed to play as a team if our Keeper is being all sulky?"

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully.

"We both need to talk to him before the match, that's for sure. I wonder how Ginny's getting on?"

They both looked over then. Ginny was saying something emphatically, waving her arms about, and then Ron clearly said something very nasty to her; Ginny got up and left, a scowl on her face, and Fred and George immediately began berating Ron for whatever he'd said to their sister. George even leaned over and clipped Ron around the ear.

"Honestly!" Ginny said, taking a seat next to Hermione. "I know he doesn't mean it really, but where my brother gets that language from I don't know."

"No luck then, I take it?" Harry asked.

"In one ear and out the other," Ginny said irritably, helping herself to eggs and bacon. "I told him how you both want to talk to him and work this out, but he wasn't having any of it. Then he told me to sod off and mind my own business."

"Is that all he said?" Hermione asked sceptically.

"Well, no," said Ginny, between mouthfuls of bacon. "His anger got the better of him - let's just say he deserved that smack George just gave him. The twins are both very happy for you, by the way."

"They don't look happy," Harry said, observing Fred and George's sullen expressions.
"They're just upset about the match," said Ginny. "They've had to call off all the bets everyone made, now that we're playing instead of Ravenclaw. I think they were going to make a lot of galleons from it."

Harry held his cup of tea in one hand, letting its heat warm his palm as he studied his red-haired best friend further down the table. Ron was determinedly looking at his plate, concentrating on his breakfast and avoiding watching them. He knew that he should be feeling over the moon, and part of him certainly did - just a glance at Hermione, and knowing that they were together, was enough to ignite that warm feeling in his chest. No matter how good it felt though, this change in their relationship was still bittersweet without Ron alongside them.

He felt Hermione's hand reach out and grasp his across the table.

"It'll be all right," she said, reading his thoughts for perhaps the millionth time since he'd met her. "You know how his temper works. He'll cool down eventually."

"I hope so," he replied, squeezing her hand in return.

Angelina, Alicia and Katie walked past them then, heading on their way down to the Quidditch pitch. Alicia was still munching on some toast as she went, but Katie was grinning from ear to ear at the sight of them.

"Don't be too long, Harry," Angelina said, but with a smile of her own.

Harry couldn't help blushing.

"She's right too," said Hermione. "You'd both better get a move on or you'll be in a rush to get changed . . . oh, Harry, here comes Ron . . ."

Ron was indeed headed their way, trailing a little way behind Fred and George.

"Nice one, Harry," said Fred.

"Knew you had it in you mate," added George.

It was Hermione's turn to blush this time, but the pinkness quickly faded as she determinedly stood up in front of Ron and tried to bar his way. He stopped somewhat reluctantly, giving the quickest of glances towards Harry but turning his attention to Hermione. What she saw in his eyes was a mixture of hurt and anger, and the guilt she had been feeling went up a notch immediately.

"Ron, this is silly, please talk to us," she said, fixing her brown eyes on his.

"Get out of the way, Hermione."

"No."

He tried to walk around her but she side-stepped so she stayed in front of him.

"Get out of the way!"

"Not until you talk to us!"

"Ron, please mate can't we just talk about this?" Harry said, rising himself. He was aware that many students had stopped eating to watch this exchange.

Ron glared at Harry for a moment.

"I don't have anything to say to either of you," he said, and then brushed past Hermione roughly, knocking her aside. Hermione was too shocked to do anything; Harry felt his temper flare up but Ginny put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Leave it, Harry," she said. "At least not here, anyway."

The Great Hall was now very quiet, except for lots of whispered gossiping. Even the teachers seemed to be watching them. Harry watched Ron's red hair disappear out of the doors and tried to calm himself; he didn't want to get angry at Ron but he found it hard not to, especially the way he had knocked past Hermione like that. He knew Ron would never do something like that normally, but that coupled with his stubbornness about speaking to them was making his temperature rise. He didn't want to blow, as a full-blown argument was the last thing they needed. They could probably kiss their friendship goodbye if that happened.

"I'm going to talk to him," Harry said determinedly, looking at Hermione and Ginny. "I won't let him out onto the pitch until he's heard me out and we settle this."

"Be careful, Harry," said Hermione, and he smiled once more. She already knew what he had been thinking about. He went around to her side for his customary pre-match good luck kiss, but for the first time it wasn't on the cheek. A great round of applause rose up from the students in the hall, along with some whistling and good-natured jibes shouted out too. Hermione went rather pink.

"Come on you," Ginny said, pulling Harry by the arm who suddenly seemed rather reluctant to move anywhere away from Hermione. "Kisses later. Quidditch now."

With a final glance at Hermione, Harry allowed the youngest Weasley to shepherd him out of the hall and out of the castle itself. It was a lovely autumn day; the sun was shining brightly in an almost cloudless sky but the temperature was cool, with a fresh breeze blowing in over the lake. A steady stream of Hogwarts students were making their way across the grass to the stands surrounding the pitch, some carrying banners and flags with them and chatting happily as they went.

"Nice weather for the game," Ginny commented.

"Uh-huh."

"I might even get to play today."

"Uh-huh."

She glanced at Harry, whose gaze was fixed firmly on the changing rooms they were walking towards.

"Last week I snogged Malfoy."

"Uh-huh . . . WHAT?"

Ginny laughed.

"Only kidding, Harry, I had to say something to make you pay attention! Snog that awful little ferret? Give me a break."

"Don't tease about that again, please Gin. I just went to a scary visual place."

This gave Ginny a fit of giggles, but when she recovered she looked at Harry seriously.
"If you get him to talk, it's not going to be pleasant. I know it'll be hard to keep your cool with him, but remember that he doesn't mean it really."

"I know Ginny. I don’t want to get angry at him. I think he has every right to be angry at me, to be honest, but it might have to come down to shouting."

They stepped into the changing rooms, which consisted of one large central room with wooden benches and a large chalkboard on the wall, and a metal rack which held the team's broomsticks. Two smaller rooms lead off from either side; Ginny headed off to the room on the left, where the girls were changing clothes. Harry swallowed and entered the small room on the right. This room also featured wooden benches to sit on around the walls, along with some upright lockers and pegs along each wall. Harry's scarlet and gold Quidditch robes were hanging on one of the pegs waiting for him; Fred and George had already changed, while Ron was just shrugging on his main robes with his back to Harry. His pads and gloves were still on the bench next to him. The three Weasleys didn't notice his arrival.

"Bloody ridiculous, that's what it is," George was saying.

"I reckon we would've been looking at thirty galleons to split with Lee, even counting some losses," Fred said, nodding in agreement with his twin. "If only we'd had more time we could've worked around it and changed all the Ravenclaw bets to us."

"Twenty-four hours, no respect for the gambling community I tell you," grumbled George.

"Will you two shut up about your stupid betting?" Ron said, sounding exasperated as he turned to them.

"You get to keep your sickles, Ronniekins, dunno what you're worried about."

"I don't care about the money-"

Ron caught sight of Harry then and his face darkened. He turned back and began doing up his robes.

"Harry," Fred and George said in unison, nodding at him.

Harry nodded back and approached Ron. The twins had gone respectively quiet; the only sounds were the ruffling of Ron's robes and the slowly growing noise drifting in from outside as the stands began to fill up.

"Ron."

Ron said nothing, finishing with his robes and beginning to strap on his shin pads.
"Ron, talk to me."

"I already told you I've got nothing to say to you," Ron said, without turning around.

"That's a lie," Harry said. "I think you've got lots you want to say. And I want to hear it."

"Sod off."

"Fine then, don't talk to me. But I'm going to talk to you, and you're going to listen."

Fred and George found themselves transfixed already. Harry was serious, it seemed. He still hadn't started getting changed yet.

"I'm sorry you had to find out about me and Hermione like that. I can understand that you're angry-"

Ron snorted derisively.

"All right," said Harry, "not angry then, furious. I can understand why."

"Why should I be angry?" Ron said dramatically, gesturing wildly with his arms before moving on to strap on his other shin pad. "My best friend only went and stabbed me in the back, what's to be mad about?"

Harry sighed.

"I know that's how you see it, but I never meant to-"

"You never bloody meant to??" Ron yelled, fixing his gaze on Harry. "You knew how I felt! You knew! I told you, but you still went and did it anyway!"

Harry hung his head.

"Yes, you're right. I did know about how you felt . . . but I, well, I guess I forgot."

"You forgot?" Ron said incredulously. "You forgot?"

"I wasn't thinking-"

"BLOODY RIGHT YOU WEREN'T THINKING!"

"Ron, please, we would have told you! You know we would have! It wasn't supposed to be like this!"

"Well it is," Ron said venomously. "You go behind my back, take the one thing that I thought I'd . . ."

He trailed off, looking down at the floor. Beside the two warring friends, both Fred and George were sitting with their mouths open.

"Why her, Harry?" Ron asked finally. "Why not some other girl, huh? Why not Ginny? I reckon she still likes you a bit . . . WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GO AND TAKE THE ONE GIRL I HAVE FEELINGS FOR?"

Harry shook his head slowly, feeling somewhat shocked by the intensity of Ron's outburst. He'd seen his best friend angry in the past, but never like this. Not even over the Goblet of Fire.

"Ron, I didn't . . ."

"Yes you bloody well did!"

Ginny appeared in the doorway, clad in her Quidditch robes, one hand covering her mouth in shock. She too, it seemed, hadn't expected an explosion like this. Ron's face was now bright red.

"It's always the same!" Ron ranted. "I never get anything! I'm always in the background, it's always you who gets all the attention and the admirers and now you've got the one thing that I always thought you wouldn't take from me! She was supposed to be mine, Harry, not yours!"

Harry felt his own anger rise, despite his best efforts to control it.

"She's not a thing to be fought over and won, Ron! She's not . . . she's not the Quidditch cup! Hermione is her own person - she's our best friend!"

"I know!" Ron said, the anger momentarily abating slightly. "I didn't mean it like that!"

Harry was clenching his fists tightly. He had no idea where Ron was heading next; Ron seemed to have stopped caring that his brothers and sister were there, hearing about the most private details of his life. He looked away for a moment, and when he looked back his eyes were shiny with bitter, angry tears.

"She's the only girl who's ever looked at me like I was special, Harry. Like I mattered, like I could be important. Just like you are. I'd always thought it would be me and her in the end, it was my dream, Harry! AND NOW YOU'VE GONE AND TAKEN IT ALL AWAY!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Well you have! You've ruined my life! Both of you!"

"Ron, I'm sorry, but I can't help the way that I feel! And neither can Hermione!"

"Oh, very rich!" Ron snorted. Fred and George's eyes were zipping left and right, following each exchange like a game of tennis.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Harry said, feeling angry again.

"You talking about the way you feel," Ron spat. "I've had feelings for Hermione for five years, Harry! Five years! What about you? You just suddenly decide one day this week that you fancy her too? So of course, off you go and steal her!"

"It's not like that!" said Harry, hotly. "I know things have changed, and fast, but it's like I've had my eyes opened! I know what I feel!"

"I should have seen it coming," Ron said, ignoring Harry's words and pacing up and down alongside the bench. "The way you two have been acting, all secretive, staring at each other when you think I'm not looking . . . Merlin, even Malfoy noticed it in Potions and I didn't . . ."

"Look Ron," Harry said determinedly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't think about your feelings. I should have talked to you, told you how I was feeling about Hermione before I did anything. I didn't, and I apologise. But I won't apologise for being with Hermione. We're together now Ron, and that's something you'll have to get used to. We want our best friend back."

Ron was shaking his head.

"You don't deserve her."

"Steady on Ron," Fred interjected.

"That's a bit harsh, bro," added George.

"Stay out of this!" Ron barked at them.

"I don't deserve her?" Harry said, amazed at Ron's callousness. His anger was now rising even higher; he could ignore most of the accusations Ron had thrown at him, putting them down to his hurt and anger, but that was below the belt.

"No you don't," Ron said, speaking quietly. "You may be the Boy-Who-Lived, you may be the saviour of the wizarding world, but the way you've done this, the way you've got with Hermione . . . you're not a good friend."

Ron paused, watching as Harry took this in. The anger in his green eyes dissipated.
"And if you can't be a good friend, how can you hope to be a good boyfriend? That's why you don't deserve her."

Harry felt winded, his anger swept away. He had no response to give.

"Everyone into the main room, now," came Angelina's stern voice from the doorway where she had appeared alongside Alicia and Katie. "Harry, hurry up and get dressed."

She stood aside to let Fred and George pass, but blocked the doorway again as Ron approached.

"We all heard," she said to them both. "It's none of my business, but I'm still the captain of this team and I'm telling you both now to leave your problems in here. We've got a match to play and I need you all one hundred percent focused on the game. Understand?"

Harry nodded, and after a moment Ron inclined his head in what could be interpreted as a nod.

"Good."

She let Ron pass and then sighed.

"I hate being the bad guy," she said to no-one in particular. "Harry. Robes."

She disappeared back into the main room with a swish of dreadlocks. Harry hurriedly began changing into his Quidditch robes, his mind racing.

Is he right? he thought. How can I hope to be a good boyfriend if I can't be a good friend?

He knew most of the angry things Ron had said had come from his feelings of hurt and betrayal, but he had sounded so . . . so defeated when he'd said that. Like he had given up on the three of them, on their great friendship. It scared Harry. How could he prove to Ron that he was still a good friend? That they were the best of friends? That he, Ron and Hermione's friendship was still integral?

He pulled on his gloves and sighed. He didn't know the answers. He trudged out into the main room and sat down next to Katie, who offered him a comforting smile. Ron was sitting on the bench in front of them next to Alicia and Ginny. To Harry's left Fred and George, obviously attempting to lighten the mood a bit, had produced a set of Extendable Ears and were using them to tickle Alicia whenever Angelina turned to the chalkboard. Alicia was trying very hard not to giggle as Angelina talked seriously about tactics. Harry was only half listening, his thoughts still a turmoil.

"Hufflepuff have injected some new blood this year," Angelina was saying. "Four new players, all of them third years and from what we've been hearing they're very good. Let's see . . . Kevin Whitby, he's the new Keeper. Both beaters are new, Owen Cauldwell and Laura Madley. Anyone know them? No? Never mind. Fred and George, I want you to keep an eye on them - what are you two doing?"

Alicia was now squirming uncontrollably, clamping her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles. Fred and George both quickly hid the Extendable Ears.

"Nothing," said Fred.

"New beaters, keep an eye on them, we're with you Angelina," said George.

Angelina frowned, but a smile was threatening to escape her lips.

"Anyway," she continued, "the other new player is a Chaser, Eleanor Branstone. She played the last match Hufflepuff played last year, and she's good."

"Who's Seeker?" Harry asked, beginning to pay attention.

"Megan Jones," said Alicia. "She took over after . . . well, after Cedric died. She was reserve until then."

"The Hufflepuffs are a good side," said Angelina, "and I've no doubt they'll be out there to win, especially with that berk Zacharias as their Captain."

Fred and George sniggered.

"All I'm saying is don't expect your usual Hufflepuff friendliness out there. Now come on, it's time to go."

- - -

The noise coming from outside was now tremendous. The team picked up their broomsticks from the rack, Harry feeling a little bit better with the familiar feeling of his Firebolt in his hands. They walked out of the room and into the small tunnel leading up to the pitch, forming up into line as they went. Harry felt a pang as Ron made sure Fred and George were between them. Normally he would have been at the back with Harry, laughing and chatting until the last moment. Ahead of them the Hufflepuffs were shooting out into the air, the sound of Lee Jordan's magically amplified voice reverberating around the stands drifted down to them as he announced the Hufflepuff team:

"Smith! Branstone! Hopkins! Cauldwell! Madley! Whitby! And . . . Jones!"

"Mount your brooms," shouted Angelina.

"Good luck Harry," Ginny said from her position behind him. She was the only member not to mount up; as the team reserve she would not be flying out but merely walking a short distance to the right to sit on the reserves bench.

"Thanks, Gin." He knew she was not just referring to the match.

"Let's go!" Angelina shouted, and one by one they shot out into the air. Lee Jordan's voice now became more excited:

"And here come the Gryffindors! I give you Johnson! Spinnet! Bell! Weasley! Weasley! Weasley! And . . . Potter!"

A great roar of approval went up from the Gryffindor stand. Harry felt momentarily free from his troubles as he zoomed out into the sea of noise and did a lap of the stands, relishing the feeling flying always gave him, wind whipping at his face and his robes flapping out behind him. The stands were all packed: there were solid blocks of scarlet and yellow at each end where the Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs were seated, to his left was the Ravenclaw stand where there seemed to be an even mix of yellow and scarlet rosettes and banners, but even from here he could make out Luna Lovegood wearing her ridiculous roaring lion hat. To his right was another solid block of yellow - the Slytherins, whom he had no doubt were only doing it because they wanted to see Gryffindor lose. They hissed loudly as he shot past them, heading for the Gryffindor stand. Hagrid was towering over them all as usual and he waved as Harry approached; Harry grinned and waved back, and then his heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of Hermione, Gryffindor scarf around her neck, waving to him and cheering like mad. It was very tempting to swoop down for another kiss . . .

Mind on the game, Potter, he thought.

"Our reserve players today are Sarah Fawcett for Hufflepuff and Ginny Weasley for Gryffindor," Lee announced. "Hi Ginny!"

Ginny waved up at Lee.

"You will refrain from personal comments, Jordan," said Professor McGonagall, standing at her usual position to the right of Lee.

"Hey no problem Professor," said Lee, and then spoke back into his magical microphone. "The game is about to begin! Here comes Madame Hooch with the balls!"

Madame Hooch was striding out to the center of the pitch in her black-and-white referee's robes, a large crate under one arm. The Hufflepuffs, all in their canary yellow robes, hovered in a loose semicircle not far from the ground; the Gryffindors took up station opposite them, Fred and George twirling their Beater's bats around trying to intimidate the younger Hufflepuff Beaters. Angelina and Zacharias Smith flew down to Madame Hooch and shook hands with each other.

"I'm expecting a nice clean game," Madame Hooch warned them, opening the crate. The Golden Snitch shot out, dancing around them for a moment before shooting off and disappearing from sight. With their trademark cackling sound the two Bludgers rocketed skywards, and then in one smooth motion Madame Hooch launched the Quaffle into the air and blew her whistle.

"And we're off!" cried Lee.

All fourteen players shot into the sky, Ron and Kevin Whitby immediately streaking back to their goalposts. The noise level swelled.

"And it's Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor with the Quaffle!" said Lee. "Johnson is away now, she passes to Bell on her right, Katie Bell now with the Quaffle . . . ouch, nice interception there by Wayne Hopkins of Hufflepuff, Hopkins now with the Quaffle - passes to Branstone - a quick pass to Smith, very nice, and it's Zacharias Smith now approaching the goals - Smith gets hit by Bludger from Fred Weasley, nice shot Fred, Smith has dropped the Quaffle and now it's Spinnet, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor streaking up the pitch now . . ."

Harry was zooming along the left hand side of the pitch, scouring around for the Snitch. He was doing his best to keep one ear on Lee's commentary and risking quick glances at the action itself; they were barely a minute into the game and already it was frantic, the Quaffle going back and forth between each team regularly. Angelina had been right - the Hufflepuffs were good.

"And Spinnet is flying . . . dodges a Bludger from Laura Madley . . . a quick pass to Katie Bell . . . Bell now with the Quaffle, avoids Smith, reverse passes to Johnson . . ."

Lee's voice now grew more excited.

"And it's Angelina Johnson approaching the scoring area! She's only got the Keeper to beat! Come on Angelina!"

"You have been warned, Jordan!"

"Sorry, Professor!"

Kevin Whitby dived; the Quaffle soared through his right goal hoop and a great cheer went up from the Gryffindor end as the bell rang.

"Johnson scores! It's ten-nil to Gryffindor! Whitby passes the Quaffle out to Smith and we're underway again!"

Harry raised his fist in the air in celebration. He looked towards Ron, floating solitarily by the Gryffindor hoops, and saw he was cheering too. It heartened him.

"Watch it Harry!" yelled George.

Harry turned - a Bludger was rocketing towards him. He dived and just in time; he felt it streak just over the top of his head, and then with a thwack! George sent it streaking back towards Owen Cauldwell.

"Cheers George!" Harry shouted.

"No problem," shouted George, keeping track on the Bludger shooting towards Cauldwell. "Oh, going to hit it at Katie are you? I don't think so!"

He was off. Harry nudged his Firebolt into action and flew high, looping around the stands and gazing around for any glimmer of gold. He could see the Hufflepuff Seeker, Megan, flying high on his opposite side. She didn't seem to be having much luck either. Lee's commentary continued:

"Smith has recovered the Quaffle from Johnson, bit of a sneaky move if you ask me-"

"Jordan!"

"-and now he passes to Branstone, Eleanor Branstone with the Quaffle, she ducks a Bludger, she's going to be intercepted by Alicia Spinnet . . . OK, she's not . . . still Branstone now with the Quaffle, all the other Chasers are behind her, she's only got Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley to beat . . ."

The bell rang again, and a great cheer went up from the Hufflepuff stand. Ron punched the air, visibly angry.

"Branstone scores," Lee said, not sounding as happy about it as when Angelina had. "Ten all."

Ron swooped down and grabbed the Quaffle, passing it quite forcefully to Katie who almost dropped it in surprise.

"Katie Bell now for Gryffindor, passes to Johnson, ouch, nice Bludger from Madley, Hopkins now with the Quaffle, passes Bell, intercepted by Spinnet, Alicia Spinnet now for Gryffindor . . ."

The action continued for another fast-paced quarter of an hour; Gryffindor scored twice more with goals from Alicia and Katie, but the Hufflepuff Keeper saved two more attempts from Angelina. Ron let two more goals in, both from Zacharias, and was becoming more and more visibly worked up each time. Harry had no doubt he was not having the best of times concentrating, but then he groaned: as the third Hufflepuff goal went in the Slytherins began singing their original version of "Weasley Is Our King".
"Oh someone shut them up!" Hermione shouted from the Gryffindor stands, but her voice was lost in the Hufflepuff celebrations.

"It's thirty-all now and this game is really starting to pick up," Lee commentated. "Johnson for Gryffindor has the Quaffle, and she's really moving!"

Harry was now streaking low over the turf, looking around frantically for any sign of the Snitch. Shadows from the players above him shot past in all directions; there were shouts, the occasional cackling sound of a Bludger, the roar of the crowd . . .

He turned and began shooting back down towards the Gryffindor goals, just as above him Eleanor Branstone was again bearing down on Ron.

"Branstone's beaten her way through again!" cried Lee. "Come on Ron, you can do it!"

The "Weasley Is Our King" chant piped up again. Harry looked up at the fast-approaching Ron; Ron saw him coming and his face darkened. He turned back to the approaching Eleanor with a look of determination on his face.

"And what a save!" yelled Lee. "Fantastic save by Ron Weasley, who sends the Quaffle straight back out to Alicia Spinnet!"

A great cheer went up from the Gryffindors again and they launched into their own modified version of "Weasley Is Our King", which was greeted with boos and hisses from the Slytherins. Harry pulled around and headed back down towards the Hufflepuff end, growing frustrated. Where was the Snitch?

"Is that the Snitch?" came Lee's amplified voice. Harry was just pulling around from the Hufflepuff hoops when a flash of yellow shot past him - Megan Jones. He saw a twinkle of gold fluttering ahead of her and he cursed, urging his Firebolt forward.

"It is the Snitch! Megan Jones is hot on it's tail and so is Harry Potter, wow, this should be interesting . . ."

The Snitch shot straight into the mass of approaching Quidditch players. Both Harry and Megan were forced to duck and swerve wildly as they followed the Snitch into the oncoming action: Katie shot past on Harry's right, clutching the Quaffle . . . Megan ducked under Zacharias . . . Harry barely managed to swerve past Angelina, feeling her dreadlocks whip against his left arm . . . the crowd was roaring with approval . . . still the Snitch danced away ahead of them, nimbly but erratically picking it's way through the action . . . a Bludger came rocketing straight at Harry and he instinctively went into a Sloth Grip Roll, hanging upside down on his broom and feeling the Bludger graze past his knuckles . . . up ahead Megan was forced to veer wildly to her right to avoid flying into Owen Cauldwell . . .

It was what Harry needed. He put on an extra burst of speed and shot past Megan, the Snitch now only a few feet in front of him. The noise from the crowd rose; he could hear Lee still calling out the action . . . Megan had pulled back and was right alongside him . . .
The Snitch suddenly dipped and changed direction, heading right back the way it had come. Harry and Megan both turned as fast as they could but it was too late, the Snitch was gone again just like that. Harry let out a frustrated cry as Megan zoomed off to the left, heading over to look by the Ravenclaw stand. At the far end the bell rang once again.
"Goal by Angelina Johnson! Forty-thirty to Gryffindor!"

The match raged on for another ten minutes until it was brought to a nasty halt: Alicia tried to avoid a Bludger sent at her by Laura Madley but the Bludger hit the back of her broomstick, sending her veering off course and she collided with the Slytherin stand heavily. The Slytherins all roared with laughter as she plummeted down and landed on her arm; Angelina called for time out as the Gryffindors all landed next to their injured team-mate. Alicia was clutching her left arm, which hung lifelessly.

"It's broken," Alicia said through tears of pain. "I heard it snap."

"Madame Pomfrey for you, my girl," said Madame Hooch, landing next to her. "Off you go. Get your reserve ready, Miss Johnson."

Angelina helped Alicia over to the tunnel leading to the changing rooms, where Madame Pomfrey was already waiting. Ginny was standing by the reserves bench, clutching her hands to her mouth in concern.

"She'll be fine," Angelina shouted to her. "Get on your broom, Ginny!"

"Looks like we're going to have a substitution," Lee's voice rang out. "Ginny Weasley replaces the injured Alicia Spinnet. Good game, Alicia."

Applause rang out from the stands in appreciation for Alicia's performance, except of course from the Slytherins who booed loudly. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and the game recommenced.

"Hopkins in possession of the Quaffle," said Lee. "Passes to Branstone, ooh, nice Bludger there from George Weasley, Branstone drops the Quaffle and now it's Ginny Weasley in possession, streaking up the pitch, wow it's like a red blur-"

"Jordan!"

"-that wasn't a personal comment Professor, it was just a comment, Weasley now passes to Johnson, Angelina Johnson for Gryffindor once more, avoids Smith . . ."

Harry wasn't following the commentary at that moment. He'd just done a pass around the Gryffindor hoops and the cold look Ron had given him had made him forget about the match at that point in time. Ron's words kept repeating in his head - you're not a good friend . . . you're not a good friend . . .

"Ginny Weasley scores for Gryffindor!" Lee shouted, as the bell rang once more. "She's barely been on the pitch for a minute and what an impact! Gryffindor lead fifty-thirty!"
The Gryffindors were cheering wildly. Fred and George both flew to Ginny and hugged her, almost squashing her in the process.

"Whitby sends the Quaffle out to Branstone, and now it's Branstone off up the pitch once more . . ."

There was no more time for celebrations as the Gryffindor team gave chase. Harry took himself up high above the action and peered everywhere for the Snitch; down below him Megan was once more scouring along the turf for it, but even Harry could see her search was fruitless.

Both teams scored twice more: Eleanor Branstone and Wayne Hopkins for Hufflepuff, and Katie and Ginny for Gryffindor. The game had now been running for over half an hour and showed no sign of letting up it's frantic pace. With the score now at seventy-fifty to Gryffindor Harry was starting to become rather desperate. The Snitch was nowhere to be found; he cruised up high above the action again and was joined by Megan who shrugged at him, indicating her own frustration.

Come on, come on, Harry thought frantically. Where are you?

What happened next was, in Harry's opinion, simply very bad luck for Gryffindor.

Zacharias Smith claimed the Quaffle from Ginny and shot off towards the Gryffindor goal hoops, an open field ahead of him. The noise level rose even higher; the Slytherin version of "Weasley Is Our King" struck up, only for the Gryffindors to begin chanting their own version to counter it, resulting in a very disconcerting mix of voices. Ron seemed to be ignoring them both, eyes fixed firmly on the fast approaching Zacharias, and so he didn't see the other danger - by sheer bad luck for Gryffindor both Bludgers came to Owen Cauldwell and Laura Madley, and with a great thwack! they sent them both barrelling towards Ron. It was not an unfair move - in fact later on Harry thought it a very clever one - as it should have distracted Ron enough to give Zacharias an easy goal. Ron, however, was so focused on Zacharias he didn't see the two Bludgers streaking towards him, cackling as they went, and he didn't hear Lee's frantic warning . . .

"JORDAN!"

Harry yelled to Ron as loudly as he could but it was no use, if Ron wasn't noticing Lee's amplified voice he wouldn't hear Harry. And if he didn't move, the Bludgers were going to hit him right in the head . . .

Harry dived, doing the only thing he knew to be right. Urging every ounce of speed from his Firebolt, he shot down as fast as he could, the wind stinging his face. Ron's eyes were following Zacharias, who was zig-zagging as he came in his best attempt to confuse the Keeper. At the last second it seemed the screams of the crowd finally got to him, as he looked up and in a split-second registered both the Bludgers and Harry bearing down on him, and his mouth formed an 'O' as he realised what was about to happen.
"RON! WATCH OUT!" Harry cried as loud as he could.

A resounding groan went up from the stands as Harry flew into the path of the Bludgers and took the blow, both of the iron balls smashing into his abdomen and sending him spiralling down towards the ground like a helicopter. The move suitably distracted Zacharias, whose throw was rather off and missed the hoops completely. Harry hit the sand of the scoring area with a soft thud, clutching at his stomach. He felt on fire; his guts were churning and there was a sharp pain which he thought might be a broken rib . . .

Another groan rang out as Harry vomited onto the sand, doubling over and still clutching at his stomach. Ron continued to hover by the goals watching Harry in disbelief, the 'O' of surprise still plastered on his face. Angelina had swooped down and picked up the Quaffle and the match went on; Madame Hooch flew down and hovered by Harry.

"Are you all right, Mr Potter?" she yelled over the din of the crowd.

"Fine," Harry croaked, staggering to his feet. Madame Hooch gave him a disbelieving look but seeing as he was still walking she shot back off. The pain was like a hot fiery knife, but Harry had felt worse. He staggered over to where his Firebolt lay in the sand and held his arm out.

"Up!"

His broomstick leapt up into his hand instantly. He re-mounted and took off, a little wobbly at first, but he lay forwards on the broom and concentrated. The pain was manageable . . . he would pay for it later, he knew, but right now he had a Snitch to catch . . .

"And Harry Potter is up and flying again!" cried Lee. "What a brave and selfless move that was! Not to mention stupid either!"

He could see Ginny approaching the Hufflepuff goals again, closely followed by Wayne Hopkins on an intercept course . . . Fred sent a Bludger towards Hopkins to protect Ginny . . . Megan was coming up on Harry's right . . .

And then he saw it - a shimmer of gold shot past Ginny's head. The Golden Snitch. He urged his Firebolt forward; he heard Megan cry out - she had also seen it - and then they were both streaking across open turf, following the Snitch which had dived low to the ground. Harry could hear Lee's voice following the action as they banked around the Hufflepuff goalposts. Megan was riding a Nimbus Two Thousand And One and she was doing a good job of keeping up with Harry's Firebolt - she was a good Seeker, he had to admit - but the pain in Harry's stomach prevented him from leaning forward fully and drawing the Firebolt's full speed, so Megan was able to draw level with him. They swooped around each other and tussled, each trying to grab at the Snitch which was dancing ahead of them. The Snitch took them up level with the stands, past the cheering Ravenclaws and the roaring of Luna's hat, and then they were bearing down right towards the Gryffindors . . .

The sight of Hermione jumping up and down like a madwoman and screaming "GO HARRY!!" gave him the strength he needed. He was neck-and-neck with Megan, many of the Gryffindors screaming in a mixture of fright and excitement as the players shot over them only a few inches above their heads, and with a loud cry of triumph Harry reached out and closed his hand around the little flying ball, so close to Hermione that the golden light was actually making her cheeks glow. An almighty roar went up from the stands, and Madame Hooch's sharp whistle blast cut the air.

"Harry Potter catches the Snitch!" Lee was shouting, his amplified voice even louder than usual. "And what a catch! Gryffindor win, two hundred and ten points to fifty!"

Harry was flying out into the middle of the pitch, one hand holding the Snitch triumphantly and the other still clutching his stomach. His team-mates surrounded him, hugging him and yelling in triumph, but in his excited state Harry didn't notice the absence of Ron who was slowly descending by the goal hoops.

"That was brilliant, Harry!" Ginny was yelling.

"Great move mate, great move!" said George over the din.

"Cracking!"

"Fantastic!"

"Come on, I think he needs to see Madame Pomfrey."

That was Angelina, but there was a huge grin on her face. They all landed and accompanied Harry over to the entrance to the changing rooms. The sound of cheering and applause still rained down upon them. The Hufflepuffs were landing down by them, and the two teams shook hands as they walked.

"Good game, Megan," Harry told the Hufflepuff Seeker, who blushed under his praise.
"Bloody brave thing you did, Potter," said Zacharias, grinning. "Threw me right off."

That reminded Harry - where was Ron?

He looked around and spotted Ron walking very slowly up from the goals. He seemed to be deep in thought. Harry was about to call to him when Madame Pomfrey appeared from the tunnel and dragged him inside.

"Reckless behaviour," she was saying irritably. "No concern for yourselves . . ."

Harry couldn't help grinning, even as he was plonked down on one of the wooden benches which sent a jolt of pain through his stomach. The team surrounded him, joined by Alicia whose arm had been swiftly fixed and had watched the rest of the game from the sidelines.

"Great game, Harry!" she said.

"Thanks, Alicia . . . ow!"

Madame Pomfrey was pulling his robes off quite roughly. She lifted up his T-shirt.

"Blimey!" said Fred.

Harry's stomach and lower chest were a mass of dark bruises. Madame Pomfrey touched one hand to his lower ribs and Harry jerked in pain.

"Broken," she announced sternly. She flicked her wand in a complicated gesture and there was a loud cracking sound; Harry cried out once more.

"Bloody hell!" said George.

"Better, Mr Potter?"

"Yes," Harry answered. The pain from his rib was gone, but stomach still hurt badly and the bruises were still plain to see.

"Harry!"

Hermione had appeared in the doorway and rushed over to him. Her eyes widened at the bruises.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Harry said.

"What are we going to do with you?" Hermione asked playfully.

"Drink this, Mr Potter," Madame Pomfrey said, handing him a small vial of blue potion. "It will calm your stomach and heal the bruises, but you will still be sore for a few hours."

"I'm sure Hermione could help him with that."

"Ginny!"

Ginny just grinned. Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes and swept out, no doubt to go and check on the Hufflepuffs. Hermione put her hands on Harry's shoulders.

"It was a rather good catch, you know," she told him, her eyes twinkling.

Harry grinned, and to his delight he had another of those wonderfully clear moments where he knew the right thing to say.

"Well, I'd say my best catch was you."

The girls all "aww-ed"; Fred and George both rolled their eyes but immediately began cat-calling when Hermione leaned down and planted a kiss on Harry's lips. Hermione was only aware of Harry, of his hand on her waist the feel of his lips still on hers, so for a moment she frowned in surprise as the noise in the room died and Harry's smile faded, looking straight past her. She turned around.

Ron was standing in the doorway.

"Think we'll go and get changed," Fred and George said in unison.

"Yeah, good idea," added Ginny.

The rest of the team went into the two side changing rooms. Harry stood up, his hand leaving Hermione's waist.

"Ron . . ."

He couldn't tell what the look in Ron's eyes was. It was far too complicated. Ron was looking back and forth from Harry and Hermione, before settling on Harry.

"You saved me."

Harry began to protest but Ron shushed him with a wave of his hand.

"Those Bludgers would've taken my head off. And even after all those things I said to you, how big of a prat I was, you still did that for me."

Harry took a step forward.

"That's what friends are for, Ron."

Hermione stepped forward too.

"The best of friends."

Ron studied them both. Harry was completely in the dark. He had no idea what Ron would say or do next. He really hoped it wasn't going to be another explosion of anger.

"This is gonna be weird," Ron stated finally. "The two of you together like this. Hermione, I'm guessing you know about . . . about how I feel."

Hermione nodded.

"I did a lot of thinking out by those goal hoops today. Some of those things I said to you, Harry . . . well, I'm not proud of them. But in a way, I still needed to say them. I think you should tell Hermione what I said later on. She needs to know . . ."

Harry nodded. A small beacon of hope was beginning to blossom inside him.

"It's not going to be easy . . . but I don't want to throw away your friendship, from either of you. I've made some stupid mistakes in the past, but I don’t think I could do anything stupider than that."

Hermione had begun to smile; Harry was biting his lip, trying his hardest not to smile himself, afraid that it would change Ron's mind.

"You are a good friend," Ron said finally, fixing Harry right in the eye. "And if you still want a friend like me, well, I'd like that very much."

"Oh, Ron . . ."

Hermione ran forward and hugged him. Harry saw how awkwardly Ron accepted the embrace, one hand at his side whilst the other patted her on the back lightly. His eyes never left Harry's. Harry understood how painful it must have felt for Ron to have Hermione throw herself on him like that, how painful it would be to watch the two of them be together, yet he still wanted to maintain the friendship that had bonded them together over the last five years. He had been brought down by the cruellest of emotions - hurt, jealousy, and yes, love - and now he was facing them head on, for the sake of their friendship.

Ron Weasley, Harry decided, was the bravest wizard he had ever met.

- - -

"Do you think he'll be all right?" Hermione asked later on as they sat on the sofa next to the fire in the common room.

"I think he will be," Harry said, squeezing her hand tightly. "It may take a while. Quite a while, in fact, but I think he'll get there in the end."

They watched the fire burn, crackling in the grate. A party was imminent, but the room was still quiet at the moment. Fred and George had gone off to raid the kitchens.

"Maybe we should try and fix him up with someone."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked incredulously, turning to look at his girlfriend who was grinning mischievously.

"I'll have you know, Mr Potter, that I can be quite girly when I feel the need to be."

"I did notice . . . who'd have thought you'd go to a slumber party?"

"Well, that did seem to turn out all right for us didn't it?"

"Yep."

Hermione snuggled in closer to him.

"So who did you have in mind for Ron?" Harry asked, interested. "I think Luna likes him?"

"Anyone with eyes can see that Luna likes Ron, Harry. I had someone else in mind. Someone in Gryffindor."

"Someone in Gryffindor likes Ron?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione said, giggling. There were still a fair amount of Gryffindor students in the room.

"Who?"

Hermione leaned up and whispered a name in his ear, the closeness of her sending a tingle down Harry's spine.

"You're joking!" Harry said, amazed.

"I'm not," said Hermione. "I wasn't the only one to drink Veritaserum, you know."

Harry sat back and stared at the fire. He would never have guessed.

"Slumber parties," he said in disbelief, shaking his head, before turning to Hermione and leaning down for a kiss.

- - -

The End

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Avidbeader: Thank you very much for listening to this episode of Harmonics we hope you`ve enjoyed bentheslayer`s story.

Misti: I just wanted to add a quick thank you to avidbeader for taking over from me today. As I`m sure you can hear my voice is barely even auditable. I appreciate that she took over from me so that we wouldn`t miss this weeks and I`m hoping to have my voice back tomorrow so that I can start on Harmony Podcast.

Please don`t forget that fan fiction submissions for the Harmony Podcast Christmas Fan Fiction Contest, the deadline is tomorrow night at midnight your time zone whatever that may be. And also we need Christmas greetings. If you don`t want to send in a recorded message from yourself, you can either email me a written out Christmas greeting or leave a comment on the Live Journals. I`m going to post a reminder today so you`ll be able to put your message into a comment on there if you`d like. And like I said my son and I are going to be reading those on the next podcast. We only have two fan fiction submissions so far, hopefully we`ll get many many more. I will be reading the winner on next weeks Harmonics.

Again thank you so much for avidbeader for filling in for me this week and that you all for listening to the very last chapter of bentheslayer`s fanfic Girls Night In. Time to give my voice a rest, Happy Holidays to all of you guys, thanks again for listening and thanks to bentheslayer for letting us use his story in our first series of Harmonics it was a wonderful story. Thanks to everyone and good day.