Alright, you may burn me at the stake if you wish.
Note: Some of the text comes from Chapter Twelve of Half-Blood Prince. I've added a little bit to the text myself, but the chunk of text in italics is mainly from Silver and Opals.
Chapter Twenty Nine
"Well," Ron said stoically, "that was eventful." Hermione shot daggers at him as he pulled off his ruby-red knit cap. It clashed with his hair on several different levels. "What?" he demanded, plopping unceremoniously into one of the three poufy armchairs by the fire. "I didn't say it was fun."
The trio had just gotten back from Professor McGonagall's office. They had been there since three, and it was nearing five now. On their way back from Hogsmeade – which they were very happy to get out of, considering that it was sleeting like mad – they had witnessed a row between Katie Bell and her friend Leanne. They had been fighting over a small brown parcel that Katie had been carrying, and eventually they had ripped it open. All hell had broken loose immediately.
At once, Katie had rose into the air gracefully, her arms outstretched as if she were about to take flight. There was something wrong... something eerie about it, though. Her hair was whipped about by the fierce wind; her eyes were closed but her face was devoid of any expression. Katie then let out a terrible scream that made Harry's stomach turn over. Her eyes opened wide and all that could be seen in them was sheer terror.
Eventually the trio and Leanne had gotten Katie back to the ground, but it had been hard to hold onto her, for she was nearly seizing. Harry had run for help and found Hagrid, much to his relief.
Lying next to Katie was the package she had been carrying, but it had been torn. The contents were now fully visible. It was an ornate, opal necklace, one of which Harry had seen before in Borgin and Burkes during his second year.
Katie Bell had been cursed.
"Harry, aren't you going to take off your wet clothes?" Hermione asked, combing through her hair with her fingers, trying to undo the knots that had been caused by the wind. She wasn't getting very far.
Harry jumped slightly – he had been spacing off, thinking about the day's hectic events. "Oh, yeah." He removed his red Gryffindor hat and unwound his scarf before taking off his nearly sodden cloak. He really hated October.
Harry soon decided that he hated November as well. For what had to be the eighth time that day, he watched as Hermione hurried past Ron, who was currently wrapped around Lavender Brown. He loved Ron, he really did, but the guy was being a total arse.
Harry heaved a sigh and got up from his table in the corner of the common room. He could no more concentrate than Crookshanks could row a boat. He hurried after Hermione and nearly tripped coming out of the portrait hole. Lucky for him, Hermione hadn't gone far and she saw his mishap. She gave him a watery smile.
The two walked down the corridor until they neared an alcove. Hermione sat down on the bench that lined the wall. Harry sat next to her, and immediately, she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"How do you do it?" she asked, sniffling slightly.
"Do what?" Harry replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"Act like none of this bothers you, like you're not falling apart inside when Draco ignores you. Act like you're still whole inside even though you know that you're falling apart on the inside." Harry tried his best not to cringe. There was an unspoken agreement that neither Ron nor Hermione mentioned Draco's name.
"I have no choice, Hermione," Harry admitted. "I can either lie in bed all day, wallowing in my sorrow, or I can go out there and be an actual person. I don't want to be a person, but I have to. I already know what will happen if I go the other route, and I can't put myself through that again," he finished quietly.
Hermione kissed his cheek. "I'm proud of you, Harry."
"Me, too."
