"One more go at it, then?"

Byron McTavish was hesitating. Harry could tell from the way the first year student was biting his bottom lip that he was not particularly keen on getting another shot at facing the Boggart again, even if the rest of the class had already filed out and he could no longer be the target of ridicule.

The boy reminded him a lot of how Neville had once been--timid and unsure of himself, and never one to believe he could actually do what was asked of him. What he needed, Harry decided, was some encouragement.

"I have a good feeling you'll nail it this time," Harry told him. "Go on..."

"Er... Professor Potter?"

Three weeks into the term, and it still felt so strange to be called that. Wonderful--but most definitely odd at the same time.

"Yes, Byron?"

He stared at the wardrobe, blinking, looking entirely as if what stood before him was a firing squad instead. "I've, er... t-that is to say, that... well, I've never... I've never really been around much... magic before coming here, Professor."

"Oh, I see," Harry said. "Your parents are Muggles, then?"

Byron nodded, eyes cast downward.

"Well, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, Byron," he said.

As he approached the wardrobe, his eye caught movement by the door. It was Ginny, who had almost walked in until she saw that he was still with a student. She stopped, leaning against the doorjamb and smiled and waved. He returned her smile, then mouthed, give me a few minutes? She nodded in comprehension, and allowed him to turn his attention back to Byron.

"But I feel so behind the rest of the class," Byron said. "They've all had a chance to see their parents do magic, and my parents... They're bankers, sir. They know nothing about spells or enchantments."

Harry smiled. "Not every first year comes from a wizard family," he said. "And even those that do aren't always the best students. In fact, one of my best friends was Muggle born. Hermione Granger..."

Byron's eyes widened. "The Hermione Granger?" he squeaked. "The one in Hogwarts, A History, who set the record for most N.E.W.T.s?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle; something told him this boy would get along with Hermione quite famously if they ever met.

"Yes, that's her. Smartest witch in our class, as a matter of fact. And she never did magic until she stepped foot in this school."

He heard Byron breathe out a silent, "Whoa..."

"And you want to know what else?"

"What?"

"I grew up with Muggles as well."

"You?? But you're... you're famous!"

"But I had no idea I was," Harry said. "I'd never read a thing or even heard of wizards until I got my letter. And I assure you, Byron, I was able to catch up and learn and become a full-fledged wizard. So you can too."

A hopeful smile spread on Byron's face. He looked back at the wardrobe again, filling his lungs with air and clenching his fists. "All right," he said, "I'm ready."

"Good... Now, remember what I taught you?"

Byron nodded.

"Here we go, then."

Harry unlatched the wardrobe door, pulling it open slowly, to give Byron ample time to react. At once, out sprang a perfect facsimile of Mrs. Norris, hissing and clawing at the air, not unlike what the real Mrs. Norris did on a regular basis whenever a student that particularly bothered her got too close. Byron froze momentarily, then threw a look at Harry, who nodded at him.

"Remember, now," he said. "You can do it, go on..."

"R... Riddikulus!!"

In the next instant, Mrs. Norris became ensnared in a tangle of yarn, her legs fighting madly to free herself, but her claws getting caught in the yarn, making any sort of attempt absolutely fruitless.

"Excellent!" Harry said. He scooped up the now immobile Mrs. Norris and stuffed her back into the wardrobe, fastening the latch for good measure so that the Boggart wouldn't be able to sneak out. "I knew you could do it!"

"That was wicked!! Thanks, Professor Potter!"

"You're most welcome, Byron. I'll see you next class, then."

"Yes, all right! See you next class!"

He ran off excitedly, Ginny giggling as he nearly rammed into her before she quickly side-stepped out of his way.

"Very impressive," she said, as she came inside.

Harry gave her an embarrassed grin, still scarcely believing what he had just managed to accomplish. "How about that, eh?"

She smiled, their eyes locking for a moment. It was the first time Harry could remember that she hadn't looked away immediately after he looked at her, and it felt... strangely nice. Like looking into the eyes of a dear friend.

They'd never been close, exactly. Over the years, he'd been so attached to Ron and Hermione that he realized he had never really taken the time to get to know her better, and suddenly he couldn't think of a good reason why he hadn't. She was an incredible person--and she probably always had been, though he had never really been able to see past her inability to look in his direction when they were younger.

Shame, he thought. Shame that we couldn't have been friends a lot sooner.

But then again, perhaps it simply hadn't been the right time then. And perhaps it was the right time now.

"Yeah," she said softly, her gaze remaining unbroken. "How about that..."

"So... ready to go?"

"Oh... right, of course," she said. A familiar blush invaded her cheeks and she ran a hand through her hair nervously, as in an attempt to hide it. "Off we go then?"

"I still can't believe I forgot her birthday."

Harry could tell Ginny was trying to stifle a laugh out of politeness, but her struggle was becoming increasingly obvious by the second.

"What kind of a bloke am I, anyway? How can I call myself her best friend and forget such an important day?

"Oh come on, Harry, don't be so hard on yourself," she said. "You've had a lot on your mind lately... it could have happened to anyone..."

"Yeah, but it happened to me," he muttered. This time he could have sworn he did hear a chuckle escape Ginny's lips. He smiled and threw her a sideways glance. "Hermione's never going to let me live this down."

"Now, you know full well she'd do no such thing."

He arched an eyebrow. "This is Hermione we're talking about. Hermione Granger, who never forgets a birthday or a holiday, and always comes equipped with a greeting, a hand-made card, and a present that's appropriate for the occasion."

She giggled. "All right, then you are doomed."

"Exactly."

They scanned the rows of books before them. Harry had decided that the best possible gift would be one that could double as a peace offering: a book. And hoping for a second opinion while he shopped for such an important item, he had asked Ginny to accompany him to Hogsmeade to visit Alibris, a bookstore Hermione had frequented so often when they were students that the owner had eventually given her a discount each time she came in.

Ginny reached over and pulled out a particularly heavy-looking tome, then held it up in front of Harry.

"What do you think?"

"Electricity: How Muggles Have Learned to Live Without Magic... Well," he said, "maybe..." The book looked quite imposing to Harry, in all honesty, but then again, as far as Hermione was concerned, the bigger the book, the better.

"Oh!! Oh wait, look!!"

Harry looked over her shoulder to see what she was holding. She must have noticed the movement, because she turned her head to look at him, her breath somewhat staggered at the close proximity between them. Slowly she turned her attention back to the book.

"Um... here," she said, handing the book over to him.

"Gilderoy Lockhart..." Harry grinned. "Now there's a name I haven't seen in years... Magical Me--Hermione's already got a copy, Ginny. He made us buy all of his books when he taught at Hogwarts, remember?"

"Look inside," she said, leaning in closer.

Harry couldn't help but notice how their shoulders were just barely touching now. As if sensing he wasn't looking at the book, she looked up, and for a moment, he couldn't remember what he was supposed to be looking at.

"I-In here," she said. She cleared her throat, then opened the book and pointed to the title page. "Look..."

It was Lockhart's name, scribbled widely across the page in a myriad of fancy loops.

"It's autographed."

She was still looking at him, until Harry suddenly realized he hadn't said a thing in the last few minutes or so.

"Oh," he said, snapping out of it. "Right, autographed..."

"She'd like it, don't you think?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm sure she'd love it..."

"So... you'll get it then?"

"Er... yes, I reckon I will."

Her eyes twinkled in amusement. "You all right, Harry?"

"Oh... of-of course!" he said. "Never better."

"Good."

She smiled and left his side to inspect another row of books.

They left Alibris not too long afterwards, the book was tucked safely under his arm, and as they walked in silence, Harry couldn't help but glance in her direction every once in a while, looking away instantly whenever he sensed that she was about to look at him.

His mind still couldn't wrap itself around what had just happened in there. And something had happened in there... hadn't it? He had not just imagined that moment--he couldn't have. He had felt some sort of... something. And he knew he wasn't the only one who had felt it, because Ginny had appeared just as flustered, just as taken by surprise as he did.

"I think she'll be ecstatic when she sees what you got her, Harry."

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts and looked at her. "You think so?"

She smiled. "You're forgiven for sure."

He chuckled, then patted the book. "I'm counting on it. 'Course, Ron'll have a few choice words about it, I'm sure."

"Oh I'm sure he will," she said, rolling her eyes.

"So, er... I promised I'd pick them up at the station tomorrow... Their train arrives at twelve-thirty--did you want to come?"

She didn't look at him straight away, nor did she answer.

"Unless... well, if you don't want to give up your lunch hour to pick up your big brother, I'll understand, of course," he said, laughing.

"N-No, it's not that, it's..." He noticed she was still avoiding his eyes. "Colin's been on assignment all this week..."

The sound of his name sliced into Harry, for some reason. Of course, Colin Creevey had never exactly been one of his favorite people in the world, so it shouldn't have surprised him that hearing his name brought up now would bring out such a negative reaction within him.

But it wasn't just that... was it?

"He's coming back tomorrow, and... I promised I'd clear my schedule to at least meet him for lunch..."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling a strange tickle in his throat when he did, "I wouldn't want to... yes, of course, you should meet him..."

She was looking straight ahead as she was walking; Harry wished she'd look in his direction, but after a while, he realized she wouldn't.

"I'm sure Ron will understand."

If only he did.