Chapter 43- Belabored by Insomnia
Being the observant Seeker that he was, Harry noticed Hermione's ring immediately upon seeing her. At the time when he and Ron returned, Malfoy was right beside her, apparently having been dragged along to greet her friends. Harry's eyes flickered to Malfoy's hand, where an identical ring to Hermione's was displayed.
Harry schooled his expression, keeping his face in the eager grin that he had adopted upon meeting Hermione in the front hall. He wondered briefly what Ron would say if he found out that Malfoy and Hermione had promise rings.
They had to wait a minute and a half while Hermione exclaimed over Ginny's hair. Her highlights had been changed to a deep bloodred, which contrasted with her fiery orange in a very unique way. Ginny gave all credit for the color to Harry. -which he deserved, he admitted to himself reluctantly. It was he who had suggested it.
While Hermione followed them to Gryffindor Tower to unpack, Harry did not know where Malfoy went. It did not matter, Harry reflected, as long as he stayed away from Ron. Harry himself had been hoping for the opportunity to talk to Malfoy, explain what he felt about the relationship he had formed with his best friend. Ron, however, was a different matter. He was still as stubborn as he had been the previous April. Shaking his head slightly, Harry found himself wondering if Ron would ever just get over it. He pleaded empty-headedness when Ron asked what he had shaken his head about.
Could he and Ron have made promise rings? Probably. They did love each other. He tried to picture what they would look like. Even before they had reached the common room, Harry dismissed this thought. It was not for them. Harry did not know why, but they would never do something so magically binding in terms of their relationship. Maybe because they felt like they should be bound only by their emotions, and not any artifact.
Still, he couldn't help imagining a ring on his finger, one that symbolized Ron's love for him. It would not hurt to have something to remind him when they were apart…because no matter what they said, they would not be able to see each other every day once they left school. Harry had been avoiding the subject in his mind, but it lingered there in his subconscious all the time. Their last year of school was half over. They had only a few months before they had to grow up. Not for the first time, Harry wondered where he was going to live once term was over. He could always stay at the Burrow until he found a place…
The familiar sight of his massive four poster was a comfort. He fell on it, face first, suddenly inexplicably exhausted. He groaned when Ron called his name. He never wanted to get up.
Of course, when Ron reminded him that he could come into his room, his private Prefect's room, and sleep there, he sprang up with unmistakable alacrity. In Ron's room, he shed his outer layers of clothing before falling face first onto the bed. He felt the covers being pulled up around him, and a body next to him on the mattress. His skin brushing that of his lover's, he drifted off into welcome blackness.
A dream chased him, and he was drawn into a world where his friends and his family were all alive and happy. They laughed, they talked, without a care in the world, it seemed. Everything was blooming and lush around them, with a cloudless blue sky stretching overhead. Harry wished life in the waking world could be the same for them.
Something disrupted the purity of this dream world, though Harry could not tell what. He did know that the sky was all of a sudden an oppressive gray, and the world around him grew cold and icy. Worst of all, the people in it, all the people he loved, were now sprawled lifeless on the ground. And then he realized the cause of the death of everything that was so beautiful. It was himself.
He sat up in bed as quickly as he didn't know how, shaking. He was covered in a warm-yet-cold sweat. Ron, sleeping beside him, without warning placed a hand on his bare back. Harry flinched away before recognizing the touch.
Ron's soothing voice relaxed him enough to lie back down. He looked into his blue eyes, willing him to see what he had seen, for he would not speak of it. He would never speak it aloud. Ron wrapped Harry in his arms, and for a while he was comforted, and he was able to empty his mind of all thought.
But the dream chased him even waking. Would Sirius, his mother and father, Cedric, Seamus's father, would they be alive if not for him? He had no doubts. He had always been the one Voldemort wanted, ever since he was born. So why didn't they all just get out of the way and let the bastard have him?
Talking to Hermione was pretty much a lost cause. They hardly saw her without her boyfriend, and when they did, she only reinforced the importance of studying for N.E.W.T.s. The teachers seemed to be in the same frame of mind; they were piling on homework, essays, and practical lessons like never before. And while Harry knew that it was important to study, he couldn't find the motivation to do it: especially since they had their match with Slytherin in a few months. It was to be the last game of the season.
Apparently, someone thought he did not need the distraction of Quidditch "so close to N.E.W.T.s".
A few days after they returned for the second semester, Ron came into the Great Hall for breakfast grinning like there was no tomorrow. He had borrowed Hermione's *Daily Prophet*, and he placed in on the table beside Harry. Finally they both knew what the Slytherins were laughing at.
And when Harry saw the article on the front page, he burst out laughing as well. In quite overlarge letters, the title of the most pressing article was as follows:
The Boy Who Lived To Be Gay
Following this amusing headline was an article with about three paragraphs on Ron and Harry themselves, and about fifteen that were speculation as to how and why they got together. Harry's fourth year "romance" with Hermione was brought up numerous times.
Throughout the whole day, Harry and Ron would periodically catch each other's eye, and turn away so they would not burst out laughing and disrupt the class. Several teachers noted their strange behavior, but said nothing. They had all seen the newspaper as well. In fact, Professor Flitwick gave them both knowing smiles and made some comment about news articles concerning Harry becoming a trend, and they had to work even harder to contain their utter amusement.
Other teachers, Snape for one- the only one really- were not so lenient. During Potions, Dean passed a picture of a very surprised Rita Skeeter watching Ron and Harry kissing to them. Harry could not prevent his short laugh from escaping, and Snape whirled on him. Being the hard-ass he was, he gave Harry a detention for that Friday night.
Harry was most amused at dinner that day, when he received a surprising number of disappointed fan letters from teenage girls. A few of them even asked him to give them a chance, saying they were sure they could change his mind. Harry showed them to Ron, and told him that he never wanted to be straight to begin with. At which point Ron laughed into his stew, spraying Neville, sitting across the table. With an apologetic grin, Ron handed him a napkin.
That night, when Harry was somehow alone in the room he shared with the three other seventh year boys who were not prefects, he found himself staring at the mirror Sirius had given him. If he used it, would Sirius be able to speak to him? His godfather had told him that he was able to communicate with Harry *because* of the mirror, but he had never said they would be able to speak *through* it. Of course, he had not said they wouldn't either. But Harry wasn't sure he wanted to risk trying, calling to Sirius through the mirror, and getting no response. How would he feel if that happened? Abandoned, probably. Sorrowful, yes. Angry- well, he didn't really want to find out. Two years ago, whenever he had been angry, he had yelled at his friends, and when Sirius died, he had proceeded to break numerous gadgets in Dumbledore's office. Harry asked himself if he wanted to repeat something along those lines, and he found the answer to be no. Sighing, he tucked the mirror into a drawer, underneath a pile of folded shirts.
Long after Ron had fallen asleep that night, Harry lay awake next to him. Why insomnia had to hit him that night, specifically, he had no idea, but it aggravated him. Ron's snoring, which usually he found amusing, irritated him, grating on his nerves. He had to get out of the room.
He tried first the Gryffindor common room, but wouldn't you know it, Ginny and Seamus were snogging on the couch. Harry then locked himself in the bathroom, but the mirror's opinionated commentary annoyed him more than he could have described.
All other options lost, Harry retrieved his Invisibility Cloak and left Gryffindor Tower.
He wandered aimlessly through the corridors, having nowhere to go but too restless to keep in one place. He barely looked where he was going. As a result, he walked right into the only other person who happened to be awake and roaming the halls. It was Aunt Petunia, and she was frightened slightly at not being able to see what she had bumped into. Harry took down his hood for a moment to ease her mind, and he was told off for breaking curfew.
*You'd think your own aunt would give you a break, but no. Everyone's against you right now. Ah well, it's only to be expected, eh? I mean, it's the middle of your seventh year. This is supposed to be the worst time of your life.*
When Harry realized what he had just said, he thought he must be delirious at that moment. Sighing, he returned to the dorm to listen to Ron's snoring.
End Chapter 43
And there you HAVE it. Twenty house points to anyone who can tell me why this chapter is different. Please specify your house.
Okay, I suppose I'll have to explain the promise ring thing better. Promise rings take the form of something that is important to the couple. Now, why would *letters* be important to Hermione and Draco? Oh, come on. If you don't have it by now I think that's kind of sad. *Letters.* Fine, if you really really still don't get it, email me and I'll tell you.
Purple polka dot confetti for reviewers!
Being the observant Seeker that he was, Harry noticed Hermione's ring immediately upon seeing her. At the time when he and Ron returned, Malfoy was right beside her, apparently having been dragged along to greet her friends. Harry's eyes flickered to Malfoy's hand, where an identical ring to Hermione's was displayed.
Harry schooled his expression, keeping his face in the eager grin that he had adopted upon meeting Hermione in the front hall. He wondered briefly what Ron would say if he found out that Malfoy and Hermione had promise rings.
They had to wait a minute and a half while Hermione exclaimed over Ginny's hair. Her highlights had been changed to a deep bloodred, which contrasted with her fiery orange in a very unique way. Ginny gave all credit for the color to Harry. -which he deserved, he admitted to himself reluctantly. It was he who had suggested it.
While Hermione followed them to Gryffindor Tower to unpack, Harry did not know where Malfoy went. It did not matter, Harry reflected, as long as he stayed away from Ron. Harry himself had been hoping for the opportunity to talk to Malfoy, explain what he felt about the relationship he had formed with his best friend. Ron, however, was a different matter. He was still as stubborn as he had been the previous April. Shaking his head slightly, Harry found himself wondering if Ron would ever just get over it. He pleaded empty-headedness when Ron asked what he had shaken his head about.
Could he and Ron have made promise rings? Probably. They did love each other. He tried to picture what they would look like. Even before they had reached the common room, Harry dismissed this thought. It was not for them. Harry did not know why, but they would never do something so magically binding in terms of their relationship. Maybe because they felt like they should be bound only by their emotions, and not any artifact.
Still, he couldn't help imagining a ring on his finger, one that symbolized Ron's love for him. It would not hurt to have something to remind him when they were apart…because no matter what they said, they would not be able to see each other every day once they left school. Harry had been avoiding the subject in his mind, but it lingered there in his subconscious all the time. Their last year of school was half over. They had only a few months before they had to grow up. Not for the first time, Harry wondered where he was going to live once term was over. He could always stay at the Burrow until he found a place…
The familiar sight of his massive four poster was a comfort. He fell on it, face first, suddenly inexplicably exhausted. He groaned when Ron called his name. He never wanted to get up.
Of course, when Ron reminded him that he could come into his room, his private Prefect's room, and sleep there, he sprang up with unmistakable alacrity. In Ron's room, he shed his outer layers of clothing before falling face first onto the bed. He felt the covers being pulled up around him, and a body next to him on the mattress. His skin brushing that of his lover's, he drifted off into welcome blackness.
A dream chased him, and he was drawn into a world where his friends and his family were all alive and happy. They laughed, they talked, without a care in the world, it seemed. Everything was blooming and lush around them, with a cloudless blue sky stretching overhead. Harry wished life in the waking world could be the same for them.
Something disrupted the purity of this dream world, though Harry could not tell what. He did know that the sky was all of a sudden an oppressive gray, and the world around him grew cold and icy. Worst of all, the people in it, all the people he loved, were now sprawled lifeless on the ground. And then he realized the cause of the death of everything that was so beautiful. It was himself.
He sat up in bed as quickly as he didn't know how, shaking. He was covered in a warm-yet-cold sweat. Ron, sleeping beside him, without warning placed a hand on his bare back. Harry flinched away before recognizing the touch.
Ron's soothing voice relaxed him enough to lie back down. He looked into his blue eyes, willing him to see what he had seen, for he would not speak of it. He would never speak it aloud. Ron wrapped Harry in his arms, and for a while he was comforted, and he was able to empty his mind of all thought.
But the dream chased him even waking. Would Sirius, his mother and father, Cedric, Seamus's father, would they be alive if not for him? He had no doubts. He had always been the one Voldemort wanted, ever since he was born. So why didn't they all just get out of the way and let the bastard have him?
Talking to Hermione was pretty much a lost cause. They hardly saw her without her boyfriend, and when they did, she only reinforced the importance of studying for N.E.W.T.s. The teachers seemed to be in the same frame of mind; they were piling on homework, essays, and practical lessons like never before. And while Harry knew that it was important to study, he couldn't find the motivation to do it: especially since they had their match with Slytherin in a few months. It was to be the last game of the season.
Apparently, someone thought he did not need the distraction of Quidditch "so close to N.E.W.T.s".
A few days after they returned for the second semester, Ron came into the Great Hall for breakfast grinning like there was no tomorrow. He had borrowed Hermione's *Daily Prophet*, and he placed in on the table beside Harry. Finally they both knew what the Slytherins were laughing at.
And when Harry saw the article on the front page, he burst out laughing as well. In quite overlarge letters, the title of the most pressing article was as follows:
The Boy Who Lived To Be Gay
Following this amusing headline was an article with about three paragraphs on Ron and Harry themselves, and about fifteen that were speculation as to how and why they got together. Harry's fourth year "romance" with Hermione was brought up numerous times.
Throughout the whole day, Harry and Ron would periodically catch each other's eye, and turn away so they would not burst out laughing and disrupt the class. Several teachers noted their strange behavior, but said nothing. They had all seen the newspaper as well. In fact, Professor Flitwick gave them both knowing smiles and made some comment about news articles concerning Harry becoming a trend, and they had to work even harder to contain their utter amusement.
Other teachers, Snape for one- the only one really- were not so lenient. During Potions, Dean passed a picture of a very surprised Rita Skeeter watching Ron and Harry kissing to them. Harry could not prevent his short laugh from escaping, and Snape whirled on him. Being the hard-ass he was, he gave Harry a detention for that Friday night.
Harry was most amused at dinner that day, when he received a surprising number of disappointed fan letters from teenage girls. A few of them even asked him to give them a chance, saying they were sure they could change his mind. Harry showed them to Ron, and told him that he never wanted to be straight to begin with. At which point Ron laughed into his stew, spraying Neville, sitting across the table. With an apologetic grin, Ron handed him a napkin.
That night, when Harry was somehow alone in the room he shared with the three other seventh year boys who were not prefects, he found himself staring at the mirror Sirius had given him. If he used it, would Sirius be able to speak to him? His godfather had told him that he was able to communicate with Harry *because* of the mirror, but he had never said they would be able to speak *through* it. Of course, he had not said they wouldn't either. But Harry wasn't sure he wanted to risk trying, calling to Sirius through the mirror, and getting no response. How would he feel if that happened? Abandoned, probably. Sorrowful, yes. Angry- well, he didn't really want to find out. Two years ago, whenever he had been angry, he had yelled at his friends, and when Sirius died, he had proceeded to break numerous gadgets in Dumbledore's office. Harry asked himself if he wanted to repeat something along those lines, and he found the answer to be no. Sighing, he tucked the mirror into a drawer, underneath a pile of folded shirts.
Long after Ron had fallen asleep that night, Harry lay awake next to him. Why insomnia had to hit him that night, specifically, he had no idea, but it aggravated him. Ron's snoring, which usually he found amusing, irritated him, grating on his nerves. He had to get out of the room.
He tried first the Gryffindor common room, but wouldn't you know it, Ginny and Seamus were snogging on the couch. Harry then locked himself in the bathroom, but the mirror's opinionated commentary annoyed him more than he could have described.
All other options lost, Harry retrieved his Invisibility Cloak and left Gryffindor Tower.
He wandered aimlessly through the corridors, having nowhere to go but too restless to keep in one place. He barely looked where he was going. As a result, he walked right into the only other person who happened to be awake and roaming the halls. It was Aunt Petunia, and she was frightened slightly at not being able to see what she had bumped into. Harry took down his hood for a moment to ease her mind, and he was told off for breaking curfew.
*You'd think your own aunt would give you a break, but no. Everyone's against you right now. Ah well, it's only to be expected, eh? I mean, it's the middle of your seventh year. This is supposed to be the worst time of your life.*
When Harry realized what he had just said, he thought he must be delirious at that moment. Sighing, he returned to the dorm to listen to Ron's snoring.
End Chapter 43
And there you HAVE it. Twenty house points to anyone who can tell me why this chapter is different. Please specify your house.
Okay, I suppose I'll have to explain the promise ring thing better. Promise rings take the form of something that is important to the couple. Now, why would *letters* be important to Hermione and Draco? Oh, come on. If you don't have it by now I think that's kind of sad. *Letters.* Fine, if you really really still don't get it, email me and I'll tell you.
Purple polka dot confetti for reviewers!