Ron was tipping back the last drops of butterbeer when he heard this. He choked, sputtering foam.
"What did you just say?" His voice came out strangled. "He's got a thing for Ginny?"
"Yes, I think that's precisely why Corner and his friends showed up—they're interested in Defense, sure, but without Ginny as bait..." Hermione trailed off meaningfully.
"How dare he—" Harry looked as furious as Ron, then quickly backpedaled. "I mean, his motives are completely dodgy. No wonder he kept questioning everything!"
"But I thought Ginny fancied Harry!" Ron was practically vibrating with indignation. "She doesn't like that Corner git, does she? Has she moved on? Are they dating? Have they—have they kissed?"
"She talks to me now, though," Harry said, sounding uncertain. "She never used to..."
"Ginny's growing up. She can't stay ten forever." Orli sighed. "Think about yourselves last year—she's exactly that age now."
"I wouldn't worry," Hermione said, smiling. "Ginny can barely look away from Harry."
Harry's ears went scarlet.
"We should go," he said, words tumbling out too fast. "Scrivenshaft's is still open—I mean, I might need quills. Or something."
The rest of the weekend slipped by quickly. Orli spent most of Sunday wrestling with homework. Not exactly thrilling, but autumn's last golden sunshine bathed the grounds, so instead of suffocating indoors, they hauled their work outside to study beneath a massive beech tree by the lake.
Hermione finished fastest, then spent ages turning several coins over in her hands, examining them from every angle. Orli's mind kept drifting back to Saturday—her and Snape alone in the Shrieking Shack, their hands clasped together. Sometimes it felt like something she'd imagined, too surreal to be true. But thinking of the Hog's Head meeting pulled her thoughts to the Room of Requirement. Dobby wasn't at school anymore, which meant Harry had no idea the room even existed.
Maybe she'd have to offer it up as their practice space. But then it wouldn't be hers and Snape's secret anymore.
No one knew about their private room, of course. No one else could access it. Still, the thought of sharing made something in her chest tighten. She decided to put off mentioning it for a few more days.
Monday morning, they gathered in the common room planning to head down for breakfast when they noticed something new—already surrounded by a small crowd.
A massive notice had been posted on the Gryffindor bulletin board, so large it covered everything else: second-hand book advertisements, Filch's new rules, Quidditch schedules, lost property lists, the twins' test subject recruitment, Hogsmeade weekend dates...
The new notice blazed in bold black letters, stamped with an official-looking seal at the bottom. Beside it, an elegant signature in flowing script.
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