Chapter Eight
Opiate of the Masses
Tuesday
"If I love a boy," Lavender read aloud, "why keep quiet about his name?"
She turned the piece of parchment over in her hands, but there was no more to it than the one line, carefully written in deep red ink in the centre of the page.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked eventually, to an equally perplexed group of her peers.
As if working with one mind they all turned to Hermione (except Harry, who was desperately trying to hide, using nothing but his hand and a bowl of cereal). Hermione looked up from her book and stared back at them. They watched her expectantly.
"Am I expected to know everything?"
Seamus opened his mouth to reply. Dean – wisely – elbowed him in the ribs – hard.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but snatched the parchment from Lavender's hands.
"Well," she said, running her fingers over the parchment, "it's very good quality. Expensive." She squinted. "The ink, I think, is sanguineous, a colour used almost exclusively by purebloods."
Harry was momentarily distracted from his embarrassment by Hermione's acting ability. If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn she didn't know it was from Malfoy. Beside him Ron wasn't doing half as well, all the colour had drained from his face and he had a death grip on his fork.
"As for the line," Hermione continued, "I believe it was written by Abu Nuwas. He was an Islamic poet."
She set the parchment on the table and went back to her cereal and what seemed to be a very old book on wizarding traditions. The table broke into whispers, most, Harry noticed, containing the words `pureblood` and `he`. The someone (Seamus to be precise) dared to ask the question clearly on all their minds.
"So," he said, "this Abu bloke was, well, a bloke, and he was writing about another bloke, does that mean he was, you know, a pouf?"
Okay, so not quite the question on everyone's mind. In fact, no one but Seamus actually seemed to care about that bit, especially when Hermione began what promised to be a long, boring lecture on poetry and wine boys, and something about gazelles.
It was, surprisingly, Neville who saved them from a fate worse than double History of Magic (worse because Hermione noticed if you fell asleep). For once, Harry would have been happy with the lecture as long as it steered them away from the topic of his letter.
"What Seamus meant to say," Neville interrupted her, nervously, "is if the original writer was a man, then is Harry's secret admirer a man too?"
Hermione glanced at Harry. He gave a slight shrug; what difference did it make?
"I'd say it was very likely."
The whispers began again.
"Whoever it is," she added, already disappearing back into her book, "they're very well-read."
"And pureblood," Pavarti added, "because of the ink."
"Rich too," Lavender said, "by the look of that parchment. I got some like that for my birthday, it's made by goblins using gold leaf. My dad nearly had a heart-attack when he saw the price."
There were murmurs of agreement, and Harry noticed Ron eying the parchment hungrily.
"It must have been a Ravenclaw, then," Seamus announced.
Harry noticed the corner of Hermione's mouth twitch upwards; as if she was trying not to smile (Harry didn't see what was funny).
"Terry Boot bumped into Harry in the corridor outside charms last Tuesday," Lavender said.
The table fell silent, and the boys gave a collective blink, eyes all fixed on Lavender.
"What?"
"Lasses are weird," Seamus said, "I think Harry might have the right idea." He reached an arm around Ron and clapped Harry on the back.
The boys laughed, and Hermione hid a snort of amusement in her tome.
"Me?" Harry asked, " I don't have any ideas! I'm the victim in all this!"
"Boys!" Parvati exclaimed in exasperation, then she and Lavender turned to their own conversation.
"Boys!" Seamus mimicked, turning to Dean with an effeminate droop of his hand.
The table erupted in laughter.
Harry had the uneasy feeling of being watched.
***
Wednesday
"What will put out the fire
That you have lit in me,
O, most fearsome of men?"
Seamus had made the first grab for the note today, as soon as the school owl landed in front of Harry. He read it in a grand voice, ending with a mock bow in Harry's direction.
"Okaay," Lavender frowned.
"Is it by the same person?" Parvati asked, "that Abu fellow?"
"Probably," Seamus answered, tossing down the note. "It sounds just as gay."
Harry flinched.
"It's not by Abu Nuwas," Hermione said from Harry's right.
She was reading the same book as yesterday (a rare occurrence) and pushing cereal around her bowl idly. Once again all eyes were on Hermione, awaiting her – hopefully brief – explanation.
"It's by Hasan al-Nawaji," she looked up from her book, keen to show off her knowledge on the subject.
Harry was impressed, despite the fact that he had caught her in the early hours of that morning, hiding in a corner of the common room surrounded by books on poetry.
"But Seamus is correct, the poem was directed at a boy. He answer `my lips`."
"Must be a bloody ponce," Ron muttered, "all this poetry and flowers. Poor Harry."
"Whatever." Seamus stood up. "Did anyone get the question on organic transformations in transfiguration? It's a bitch."
"McGonagall leant me a book," Dean said, as the rest of the group followed Seamus' lead, gathering their things and standing, "you can borrow it."
"Thanks mate," Seamus clapped him on the back as they headed out of the hall.
Ron jogged after them. "I need it after him."
"Really, Ron. I told you to do that last week," Hermione huffed, hurrying away from the table.
"I didn't have the book."
"That's what libraries are for."
"Yeah, if you're boring."
"Don't come moaning to me when you fail your NEWT's ."
Harry started to dawdle after them, then paused. Quickly, he took a couple of steps back and snatched up Malfoy's parchment, before rushing out of the hall.
At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy turned to his female companion and smirked.
Thursday
The third poem made even Seamus blush. Parvati stuttered to a stop before the first `cock` with and embarrassed `oh my`, and the note was quickly passed around the group. Lavender broke into giggles, taking Parvati with her. Ron, Neville and Dean looked decidedly queasy – particularly Ron. Seamus began making crude jokes. Hermione cast a critical eye over the scrolling words, and pronounced it to be by Martial, following up with a brief explanation no one was listening to.
Harry was burning, though he wasn't sure whether it was with rage, embarrassment or…something else entirely.
"Whoever he is," Dean said, "he seems to really like Harry."
"I think it's sweet," Parvati said.
"Isn't it," Lavender agreed.
"Sweet!" Seamus laughed, "have someone stick their cock up your arse and see how sweet it is then."
Lavender glared at him.
"Well obviously that one was about lust," she snapped, "it doesn't mean the others weren't sweet."
"Whoever it is," Neville said, "he does seem to have gone to a lot of expense."
"Probably just has more money than sense," Ron grumbled, glaring at the latest parchment, which lay innocuously in front of Hermione.
The bushy haired girl looked up from her book and levelled a glare at Ron.
"Are you saying," she said, in a threateningly low voice, "that Harry isn't worth it?"
Harry blinked in surprise, and watched Ron gulp.
"I-no-it's just-well-I-Money isn't everything!"
Hermione looked at him for a moment longer before seemingly deciding it was a good enough answer and going back to her book.
"It's not just money though, is it?" Dean said.
The group – not including Hermione – turned to him.
"I mean," he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "the notes aren't ostentatious, neither was the rose. They have and expensive feel to them, but they're tasteful."
"Old money," Lavender nodded to herself, as if adding it to a mental list.
Dean nodded too, and went on. "It's like, yeah, they went to a lot of expense, but they're not trying to buy Harry's affection. The rose looked hand picked, and it must have taken bloody ages to dig up all that poetry. Why would they go to so much effort if they didn't really like Harry?"
Harry wanted nothing more than to answer that question for them all.
"Never knew you were such a sodding romantic, mate," Seamus said, looking at his friend in shock.
"He's right though," Parvati said.
There were mumbles of assent from most of the group.
"Looks like somebody's in love with you," Lavender said, smiling at him.
TBC
