Broken Friendship

Hogwarts – Hagrid's Shack – February 26th (Saturday)

Hermione and Piotr had been helping Hagrid with the Salamanders to prepare them for the transport back to their owner. It had been quite interesting to see them in Hagrid's class but now it was time for them to go home. After their work Hagrid offered to make some tea and they decided to spend the time until the Quidditch game with him. Piotr had been very convincing that she needed some time for her own, in silence and without books. He had been right: she felt tired, really tired after these weeks and months with her overflowing schedule.

"Buckbeak looks really content," Hermione assessed, examining the Hippogriff who was living now in the shack. "And his plumage shines."

Hagrid, who was still rummaging in his little kitchen, responded happily: "Piotr has been caring for him. He prepared a few potions I knew about and spent hours with purifying the plumage."

"Oh," Hermione smiled at Piotr, "another talent it seems."

"Maybe," he stared back, crooking his head as he examined something about Hermione.

"Wha … what," she asked, a bit confused by his looked, which only intensified as he pulled her to a chair and pressed her down, grabbed her shoulders to force her to sit upright. "Hold still." He rummaged in his back behind her and a few seconds later he announced. "I wasn't sure about getting the opportunity. But with your comment … you know: my talent not only encompasses plumage caring."

With that weird comment he grabbed a fistful of her bushy, unruly hair and started to slowly and carefully brush it. "Hold still and relax," he ordered as she started to complain. "Close your eyes, relax, relish."

"Yes, mam," she obeyed with a grin.

The next quarter hour he spent brushing her hair and speaking about the Quidditch game three weeks ago, that Slytherin had won against Ravenclaw, and the game they wanted to watch this afternoon. Even they knew – with the boys speaking about nothing else the past week – Gryffindor had to win against Ravenclaw to have a chance for the Quidditch Cup this year, something Professor McGonagall was really eager to achieve after seven years without luck.

"So Harry has his broom back," Piotr asked. As Hermione tensed up he pressed her back and went on with brushing.

"Yes, the broom seems to be okay, no curses or else. And he really wanted to have the broom for the game."

"It was the right decision to examine him. I still share your opinion that the broom could be a present of Sirius Black and which other intention could he have than to harm Harry with it?"

Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Yes, if only others would see the same."

"They're fools. I'm a bit disappointed by Harry, I admit. He should see at least that you had only his health in mind. That Minerva shared your opinion should tell him that it isn't so far-fetched."

Hagrid shortly looked in their direction but stayed quiet and pretended to be occupied with something in the back of his shack.

For some minutes Hermione was very silent and slowly Piotr started to become concerned. He wasn't sure, standing behind her, but she seemed to be weeping now. "Scabbers, he is away. And Ron thinks that … that Crookshanks had eaten him."

"Nonsense, Crookshanks wouldn't do that. Certainly, he seemed to hate Scabbers but …" Piotr pondered for a while about the rat and the cat. Tasha had shared Crookshanks feeling towards Scabbers, but he wasn't sure about the reason. Perhaps it was because Piotr disliked Scabbers' owner, perhaps it was because Tasha liked Crookshanks. But maybe there were other reasons. "I won't totally omit the possibility that he would kill Scabbers but he wouldn't eat him."

Hermione nodded and turned around. He had been right about the weeping. Piotr gathered another char, sat beside her and pulled her into an embrace, her head on his shoulder. Hermione started to mumble into his sweater. "He even doesn't speak with me anymore. Only when he must and then only monosyllabic."

"Have you told him how much it hurts you?" He had seen the looks she cast Ron's way and even with his dislike about the Weasel he hoped …

"No, he only wants an apology." She bobbed up. "How can I apologize for something …?"

Piotr grabbed her shoulders and locked eyes with Hermione: "You aren't a five-year-old anymore. This friendship has a special meaning for you and for him too if he isn't even more stupid than I think him to be. You can't allow it to break away about a rat and a cat, irrespective how much you like Crookshanks. Sometimes you have to apologize, not because you regret something but to show that you appreciate someone. You know how I think about Ron. I would certainly like more to hit him in the face than to usher one of the most precious girls in Hogwarts in his direction."

Her smile about the face-hitting turned into a blushing as he complimented her but she only nodded without response.

"I know how much you like him." Her eyes widened and her blush intensified. "Today, after the game – when he is victory-partying or lamenting – you'll go to him and apologize." As she tensed he shook his head and continued. "No back talk, Miss Granger, you know exactly that he is too stubborn to jump the fence. It is your job to save this friendship. I expect you to act in a mature way. Do we concur?"

After some moments of silence Hermione showed a little smile and nodded.

.

The game would start in a few minutes. Hagrid had taken a seat apart from the other teachers, a flock of students around him, Hermione, Piotr, Neville, Hannah and Luna being part of that. As the Quidditch teams gathered around Madam Hooch, Luna pointed towards Harry.

"He's quite smitten, don't you think?"

Hermione turned from her to the field and watched the boy-who-lived for a while and really: it was quite obvious that Harry was ogling Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker. The dark-haired beauty was smaller than Harry and of slighter build but belonged to the class one year above. Until now Hermione hadn't really noticed the girl but from the looks Harry shot her she was sure to hear about Cho in the future.

"What do you think will be Ginny's opinion about it?"

Piotr tensed at Luna's words but it was Neville who asked: "Why should it be of any concern to Ginny?"

"It is rather evident that she still adores Harry, isn't it?" Luna stated matter-of-factly.

"What makes you think that?" Hermione asked back. "She hasn't shown any interest in him for months." To be exactly since the summer break, Hermione silently added.

"Only because she has been forbidden to do so," Luna responded confidently.

"What," Hermione jumped? "Who should …?

Luna put her index finger against her mouth and pondered: "Her father I think. Perhaps Percy too, she is always asking him what to do. It is quite impossible to do something with her apart from lessons and schoolwork without her asking him for allowance."

Piotr started to fidget on his seat. "He is her elder brother and wants to protect her. If she is content with this behavior …" But why did he feel so uneasy about it?

Luna didn't look convinced but Hermione added: "I think … I think that Piotr is right. It is her decision. The last year has been really difficult for her. If she needs someone … a shoulder to lean on … it is her decision. She'll come around. You'll see, not later than next year she'll be her old self again."

.

The Gryffindor common room was overflowing with happy students. They had won against Ravenclaw thanks to Harry's skill as a Seeker and the party now was well underway. Everywhere they were speaking about the game or how Draco Malfoy had tried to interrupt with him, Crabbe and Goyle posing as Dementors. They had been badly surprised as Harry – instead of falling from his broom in fear – simply threw a Patronus spell in their direction and furthermore followed the Snatch. They had needed quite some time to entangle from the costumes they had crafted to look like Dementors. Detention and a fifty point deduction from Slytherin they had earned with the trick from a fuming Professor McGonagall.

The broad and frank smile of Cho certainly sweetened the victory for Harry and he needed a while to really notice the cheering of his co-Gryffindors again or the shoulder-slapping of Percy who had won 10 Galleons from his girlfriend Penelope for the victory.

With cotton candy and lemonade overall Hermione nearly had toothache thinking about her parents. What would they think about this party being dentists both? Slowly she found her way thru the masses towards Ron, who was standing on a table and narrating for the umpteenth time how Harry outmaneuvered Cho and caught the Snatch.

As she nearly reached him, he used just that moment to lament: "If Scabbers would be with us and not be eaten, he could have some of these cotton candy flies he loved so much."

Hermione stopped cold in her tracks, tears starting to show in her eyes. Harry, noticing the whole mess, addressed Ron bitterly: "Can't you leave her alone a single time?"

Ron shook his head but before he could say something Hermione plucked up the courage to go the last few steps. Without her touch to his leg he would have overheard her first words. "Ron," she started, "I'm sorry."

Ron, who for a moment wanted to snap back, realized her tone of voice and went down to his knees on the table. "I'm really sorry about Scabbers. I should have heard …" Gently lifting her chin he was aghast to see tears running freely down her cheeks and impulsively pulled her into an embrace. "Sorry, Hermione, I was a git the last days. It was only an old rat."

Ignoring the tumult around him Harry watched his two best friends, pondering about the change. Knowing how stubborn both could be, knowing how senseless his tries at persuading Ron had been, he asked himself about the reason for Hermione's apology. But for now he was content to see them together again … friends forever.

.

Hogwarts – Great Hall – February 28th (Monday Morning)

The whole Sunday had been a real uproar. Among the Gryffindors there was only one theme: the nightly attack of Sirius Black. Was it a kind of bad joke or a nature's law: after some happiness like the Quidditch win there had to be something bad again?

In the middle of the night Ron had awakened the other boys because Sirius appeared beside his bed, shredding the curtain and running away as he saw some other boy than Harry sleeping there. All were dead certain that he had tried to murder Harry in his sleep and only luck had denied him success.

How had he been able to enter the dormitory? Sir Cadogan, the picture guarding the entrance, had an answer to that question: Sirius was able to say the password, read off from a small piece of paper. Professor McGonagall had been furious as she learned that no other than poor Neville had lost that paper. How could he be so stupid to note the passwords for the whole week and lose it? Denying any further visit of Hogsmeade, a detention and ordering the other Gryffindors not to say him the Gryffindor password for the next time had been his penalty.

Piotr had tried to convince her otherwise, told her that it wasn't Neville to blame that Sir Cadogan switched the password every few hours. That it couldn't be expected that Sirius was able to bypass the Dementors and the Troll-Patrol. Perhaps he could have spoken a tad more politely? Anyhow there was no reasoning with her and Neville was devastated.

As Piotr entered the Great Hall on Monday morning the attack was still topic of the day.

"Piotr," Harry rose from the bank, stepping towards him and speaking silently enough to deny Ron and Hermione the opportunity to listen. "Thank you."

"For what," Piotr asked, still not really pleased with Harry?

"Hermione, she told me what you said to her … about Ron and their quarrel I mean. She had apologized and … they're ok again. I think without your words …"

Certainly Piotr's reaction was a bit surprising for Harry. Instead of something along 'you're welcome' he answered with narrowed eyes: "As far as I'm concerned Ron could rot under some rock. But Hermione was miserable because that bloke was unwilling to trust the girl that should be one of his best friends. And her other best friend was unable to bring about peace between them."

Ignoring Harry's blushing and gulping Piotr furthermore scolded him: "Had Hermione told you that I was disappointed that you obviously reacted so badly about the issue with the broom? Is it so very difficult to see that she spoke with Professor McGonagall to protect your life? Is that damned Quidditch really more important than your health or your friendship? Yes, the broom seems to be safe, but it could have been different. Do you have an idea how she would have felt if she had stayed silent and some curse had come into effect during the Quidditch game? She really cares for you and you're pouting"

Slowly he talked himself into a rage. "And the reaction about Scabbers … it is that simple to side with Ron instead of trying to find the truth. Believing that the cat killed that blasted rat … how could you? Hadn't you wondered that there weren't any more hints, only a bit of blood, no fur remains, no bones? Only to side with Ron because he is the more stubborn and the louder of them both is a very weak excuse. Sorry, Harry, normally I really like you, but in this matter … as long as you act this poorly towards Hermione I give a damn about your thanks."

Was it his high level of adrenaline after the tilt with Harry? As he passed Neville the owls were delivering the morning post. He needed only the announcement of Ron "better run, Neville" and a single look at the red envelope of the Howler Neville's grandma had been sending to spring into action. Before Neville had a chance to react Piotr grabbed the letter with the left and a bowl with apples with his right hand. Ignoring the stares and shouts of the Gryffindors around he emptied the bowl, turned it around and put it on the table, the howler below. With a broad grin and as if it would be the most normal action he took a seat on the bowl.

He wasn't surprised that only Hermione started to act instead of staring wide-eyed in his direction or that she was able to cast a silencio on the bowl, something that others only learned in the fifth year. Seconds later the Howler as expected detonated, certainly burning the table cloth a bit and some smoke left the bowl.

"Oh, sorry, shouldn't have eaten that beans yesterday," Piotr grinned around, before he left the place, clasping his hand on Neville's shoulder: "See you later, alligator."