"Harry

As always, thank you for the support. Its much appreciated. And I apologize—this thing looks like it's gonna drag itself out for a very long time… *grin* Ah well. And, as per the usual disclaimer, JK Rowling is in possession o' all. But Reemie.

Chapter Eighteen: O Captain, My Captain

"Harry! There you are!" I broke into a jog to catch up with him, on his way out to the Quidditch field.

"Oh, hey, Casey—what's up?" He asked absently.

"I think we need to talk."

He looked up briefly, then kept walking. "What—Lupin too busy?"

I slowed down, hurt. "Harry, please…let me explain that one…"

"He says you don't trust me. That's pretty much self-explanatory."

"It's not that I don't trust you," I grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn towards me. "It's just that I don't trust myself. I'm not proud of a few things I've done, Harry, and I…I thought that maybe you'd think I was a bad person if I told you."

"Casey, I've known you long enough to realize what kind of person you are. And believe me, nothing could change my opinion of you. Ever."

"Not even if I ran around the school with Snape's underwear on my head, singing the Sorting Hat song?" I asked seriously. Then I made a face as I realized what I had just talked about.

His mouth twitched, then broke into a grin.

"Ha-gotcha smiling," I rocked back on my heels, grinning. "Now, honestly—are you really mad at me?"

"I can't stay mad at you for anything, Casey. You know that." He leaned against his broom stick and smiled.

"And you respect my decision not to talk to you about certain things—at least for now?"

"Yes. But," he fixed his eyes on me. "Only if you tell me what's really going on with you and Professor Lupin."

My eyes immediately went skyward. "Harry… Nothing. I promise."

"Then why can't you look me in the eyes?" his voice sounded controlled and even. I lowered my blue ones to his green.

"There's nothing going on." I forced myself to say.

"Maybe not for you." He shook his head at my confused expression. "I can give you a tip, Casey—next time you go to talk to him, watch his eyes. They're on you constantly. And he doesn't even bother to hide it."

"Why do you sound so angry at me?"

"I'm angry because I'm always here, trying to make you happy, doing everything in my power to keep you happy, and you can't even talk to me. It's slightly unsettling."

"I've already told you-"

"I know, I know… 'I'm not ready, Harry. I don't think I trust myself around you.'." he rolled his eyes. "I have it all memorized, Casey."

"Well, you've never told me about your parents, y'know. Why not?"

"That's different…everyone knows how they died."

"Oh, sure. Big difference. How fitting that your standards of open communication don't apply to yourself."

He looked at me in surprise. "What was I supposed to say? You know how they died."

"But I never heard it from you."

"Would it have made a difference?"

"Yes."

He sighed in resignation. "Why are you so frustrating, Casey?"

"Because it's fun to see that vein in your forehead twitch when you're upset."

"ARGH! I hate you!"

"No you don't." I batted my eyelashes. "You know you love me."

"GAH! You're right! I hate it when you're right."

We both laughed, all hostilities forgotten. He spoke first.

"So I better get to practice, then."

"Yea—wouldn't be too good if the captain missed practice."

He sighed dramatically. "My public needs me."

"Then go and appease them, O Captain!"
"Right. Talk to you later?"

"Of course." I surprised us both with a spontaneous hug. "We have a lot to talk about."