Chapter Seventeen:
Prickle
Harry watched Ron from his chair in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but it had to have been a while. Ron was writing something yet again, absorbed in what he was writing on the many pages of parchment.
Leaning forward, Harry rested his chin on his fist as he watched Ron.
Ron's red hair hung in his eyes and he brushed it away. He had a look of determination on his soft, pale features. This made Harry want even more to know whom Ron liked.
But, he'd never know now because of the way he'd acted. He felt so stupid, but not embarrassed – or ashamed, for that matter. The only reason he felt stupid was because he'd gotten caught. That was something that happened to him a lot, so he knew he should be used to it by now, but he wasn't.
"Damn it, Harry," he muttered to himself. "Ron's your best friend."
And he was. Harry knew it. Who else had stuck by him in his times of need? Hermione, of course. But, his "relationship" with Hermione was wavering right then. Ron was the only person he could confide in, and now he'd blown it.
You have to do something, his insides told him as he watched on. Make up with him! Do something!
"But I can't." he told himself sadly. How in the world would Ron even begin to accept his attempt at an honest apology?
But, then again, Harry had to accept apologies from Ron before, so why wouldn't Ron do the same for him?
"What the Heck," he said under his breath as he got up and started over to Ron. He tried to look casual, but it didn't seem to work. He just felt awkward.
Finally, he made it to the fireplace and sat in one of the armchairs across from Ron's. Ron didn't look up, so Harry tried to start up his apology.
"Hey, Ron." he said, hoping he didn't sound stupid. When Ron showed no signs of hearing him, he went on. "Can I talk to you?"
"You mean now that you've thought up a reasonable excuse for spying on me?" he spat without looking up.
For the first time, Harry felt really bad. He knew then how severely he'd hurt Ron and regretted it.
"Ron – I want to apologize."
"Quit wasting your time."
"No – Ron!" Harry said, determined not to get frustrated. "Please, just give me a chance to explain. I didn't mean to read your note. I don't even know why I took the invisibility cloak. I was just stupid, I guess."
"Psch – yeah." Ron said, not diverting his stare at the parchment.
"I've just been...you know..." Harry started, but Ron cut in.
"No, I don't know, Harry. Why don't you tell me what the Hell you came over here to tell me or go away."
Harry gritted his teeth.
"I've been worried about you, okay?"
Ron stopped writing and looked up.
"Worried? Why in the world would you be worried about me?"
"Because," Harry went on, feeling really uncomfortable. "You've been lagging behind and I feel you're being excluded from the group – or what was once the group."
Ron groaned.
"Harry – I hate playing games with you. First it was you being famous. Then it was you and Lupin. Now you and Hermione. You're always finding ways to shrug me off – and I'm tired of it."
"I know – I know you're tired of it." Harry said, trying not to let himself be bashed too much. "Ron – give me a break. I feel excluded as well. You never tell me anything anymore."
"I never tell you anything anymore? What do you want me to tell you that I haven't already?"
Harry shrugged, but Ron knew what he wanted.
"You want to know who I like. Admit it."
"Well – Ron! Who wouldn't want to know?"
"It's none of your business."
Harry pressed on. "Why won't you just tell me?"
Ron got very defensive then. "Because! Harry, this is really, really personal. If someone else finds out, this could blow up in my face. Nobody can know who I like. Not even you."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's stupid, Ron! You can tell me anything."
"Can I?" Ron asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Look, Harry, let me tell you something. That night I got detention, Snape asked me something. Do you know what he asked me?" He didn't wait for Harry to react. "He asked me who I liked. Said it was obvious who I did. Do you want to know something else? I told him! That was the stupidest thing I've done all year! Anyone could know!"
"So?" Harry went on. "It can't be that bad of a thing."
"But it is – Harry! No one can know."
And with that, he got up and started towards the spiral staircase. Harry was about to stop him but then thought better of it. Instead he called something.
"Just remember – we were close once. We still are."
Ron sighed as he disappeared up the staircase, leaving Harry alone once again.
"Damn it, Harry!" he found himself saying once more. "You just don't have the knack for problem solving, do you?"
Finding himself slowly wading into a sea of depression, he was about to get up and follow Ron, but fell back. An enormous pain had erupted in his forehead and he found himself on the floor.
It felt as though someone were re-cutting his scar with a red-hot sliver of steel. White erupted in his eyes and he fell face first to the carpet of the Common Room. He wouldn't remember getting there when he awoke.
The portrait hole was opened not long after and Hermione stepped halfway into it, still holding Draco's hand. She didn't want to let him go. She hadn't felt that happy in over a week.
She was about to leave Draco when he pulled her hack. With a giggle, she turned to him.
"Draco – wha -?"
But his mouth quieted hers as he gave her another kiss. She watched him grin as they parted.
"Draco –"she said, putting a hand up to stop him. "I really should be going."
"But I don't want you to leave yet," he said in a mock whine. After so long he was able to express how he really felt and now he had to let it go so soon.
Hermione smiled.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
And with that, she started into the Gryffindor Common Room, leaving Draco behind.
The creak of the portrait swinging back into place was the only sound she heard as she slowly made her way through the hole in the wall leading to the circular, warm Common Room.
Feelings continued to wash over her and she wondered if she'd ever felt any of these before. A warm, tingly feeling seemed to have washed over her and she didn't want it to stop. For a moment, she'd completely forgotten all about how much Harry had hurt her or how she could never find Ron to tell him how she felt. Finally, she had someone she could relate to and someone who she thought felt the same way back.
The Common Room, draped in scarlet and House spirit, was dim and the only source of light was the crackling fire that burned merrily as though it would never run out of wood.
About to start up the stairs, she stopped suddenly. A faint sound had caught her attention and she turned on her heel to look back into the seemingly deserted room. The fire cast an eerie glow on everything, highlighting every piece of furniture and each rounded table leading to the announcement board.
As she stepped back into the room, the noise got a little louder – a little clearer. It sounded like breathing mixed with a whimpering. At first, Hermione thought it to be a House Elf and was going to ask into the almost dark, what was wrong, but she saw none around.
Then, as she stepped around one of the chairs circling the fire, she saw the source of the noise.
"Harry!" she exclaimed as she rushed over to his crumpled form and crouched by his side, taking his hand in hers as she shook it to attempt to wake him. His eyes were squeezed shut and a thick layer of sweat coated his brow.
As Hermione shook his hand, she called out for someone.
"Help! Someone! Get down here! Harry's in trouble!"
She was afraid she hadn't been loud enough when she heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase. A group of five or six people had come out of their rooms, including the Creevey brothers and Ginny. Ginny's hair was mess and she rubbed sleep from her eyes as she entered the room.
"Hermione – what's going on?" she half yawned. But then she saw Harry and turned as pale as a ghost. "Harry! What's happened?"
Colin had his camera in hand and he snapped a picture as more people were aroused by the commotion. Hermione continued to shake Harry's arm, trying to coax him out of his stupor. The most she got out of him was a groan.
Then, Ron came down the stairs. He didn't look like he'd been asleep, still in his school robes. He gave a confused look when he spotted Hermione on the ground.
"Hermione?" he said as he surveyed the scene. Then he too saw Harry and stopped, whipped out his wand and lit it, shedding some more light on the group. "Hold on – I'll get McGonagall."
He quickly raced out of the room and out to McGonagall's office. Hermione hoped he didn't take too long.
"Hurry, Ron..." she muttered anxiously under her breath as the crowd grew, a buzzing slowly getting louder and louder. Then, the Portrait Hole opened and McGonagall, followed closely by Ron, entered.
A look of shock appeared on her face.
"Oh my goodness!" she cried as she pulled out her wand and started muttering a spell that generated a goblet filled with a blue, icy liquid in it. "Look out, Miss Granger! Let me tend to him!"
Kneeling beside Harry's fallen form, she slowly lifted his head and put the rim of the goblet to his lips. Slowly, she poured enough of it in so that Harry swallowed it. With a sputter and a cough, Harry shook his head and came too, appearing groggy.
"Huh...?" he started, but McGonagall shushed him.
"No need to talk, Potter. It's alright now."
Harry sat up quickly, looking around. Everyone he knew from Gryffindor was assembled around him in a sort of semi-circle. He blinked and reached for his glasses that had landed on the floor beside him.
"What happened...?" he started, trying to form sentences without being too slow, but the potion had done something to his speech and he couldn't form full sentences readily.
Hermione explained.
"I was coming back from...from working on my project and I found you. You were passed out on the floor. Did someone knock you out?"
Harry shook his head as he frowned, rubbing his forehead.
"No...it was...my scar..."
Half the people gasped silently, muttering things from under their breath to one another.
McGonagall slowly got up and looked around at everyone. Slowly, she motioned them back towards the Spiral Staircase.
"All right, everyone. Get back to your rooms. I must inform Professor Dumbledore about what's just happened and take Potter here to the Infirmary. It's best if you don't start a panic, please. We need to stay calm. It was probably nothing."
Slowly, the group split up and started back to the stairs.
McGonagall had Harry up on his feet after a few moments and Hermione was on the other side of him. Ron lingered behind, not believing what had just happened. Hermione turned to him and frowned.
"Ron! Aren't you going to help?"
He looked as though he'd been snapped awake and shook his head as though shaking away a thought.
"Oh, yeah. Right..."
He quickly hurried to catch up as they walked through the portrait hole. None of them said a word until they had arrived at the Hospital Wing and handed Harry over to Madame Pomfrey.
"What in world...?" the nurse exclaimed as they moved him to an empty bed and laid him down. Hermione brushed his hair out of his face as he grimaced. It looked as though he were in a lot of pain.
"His scar hurt him again. I'm going to go get Professor Dumbledore." McGonagall said as she exited the room.
After she left, the room became very quiet – filled only by the bustle of Madame Pomfrey running back and forth from Harry's bedside table to the cupboard where she kept all her magical remedies. Harry just lay in his bed, eyes closed as Hermione knelt by his side, Ron lingering a few feet away outside the light.
Once a few minutes had passed, Hermione started. She was already on edge and hoping to get some answers.
"Harry...when did your scar first start hurting?"
Harry squeezed his eyes shut before opening them. He talked through groans of pain and clenched teeth after every sentence.
"I don't know – maybe a half hour ago. Do you know how long I've been out of it?"
Hermione shook her head, but Ron spoke up.
"Probably only five minutes."
Both Hermione and Harry looked over at him and he sort of shied away. But, he went on.
"If it happened between me going up to the bed and Hermione getting back...it must have been at the most, five minutes."
Hermione nodded, then turned back to Harry.
"Yeah. That's probably about right, Harry." She took his hand and rubbed it between hers. Harry noticed that her shoulders were shaking slightly so he squeezed her hand back.
"Hermione – calm down. It's okay."
Tears were coming out of her eyes and she held Harry's hand to her lips.
"No – Harry," she started to sob. "No, it's not okay. I – oh man! I've been so stupid!"
Harry felt really confused at first, then decided she was "stupid" for being mad at him. Hermione continued to cry into his hand.
It lasted for a while, Hermione crying – Harry listening until they both slowly drifted off, not waking until half the morning was over.
Prickle
Harry watched Ron from his chair in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but it had to have been a while. Ron was writing something yet again, absorbed in what he was writing on the many pages of parchment.
Leaning forward, Harry rested his chin on his fist as he watched Ron.
Ron's red hair hung in his eyes and he brushed it away. He had a look of determination on his soft, pale features. This made Harry want even more to know whom Ron liked.
But, he'd never know now because of the way he'd acted. He felt so stupid, but not embarrassed – or ashamed, for that matter. The only reason he felt stupid was because he'd gotten caught. That was something that happened to him a lot, so he knew he should be used to it by now, but he wasn't.
"Damn it, Harry," he muttered to himself. "Ron's your best friend."
And he was. Harry knew it. Who else had stuck by him in his times of need? Hermione, of course. But, his "relationship" with Hermione was wavering right then. Ron was the only person he could confide in, and now he'd blown it.
You have to do something, his insides told him as he watched on. Make up with him! Do something!
"But I can't." he told himself sadly. How in the world would Ron even begin to accept his attempt at an honest apology?
But, then again, Harry had to accept apologies from Ron before, so why wouldn't Ron do the same for him?
"What the Heck," he said under his breath as he got up and started over to Ron. He tried to look casual, but it didn't seem to work. He just felt awkward.
Finally, he made it to the fireplace and sat in one of the armchairs across from Ron's. Ron didn't look up, so Harry tried to start up his apology.
"Hey, Ron." he said, hoping he didn't sound stupid. When Ron showed no signs of hearing him, he went on. "Can I talk to you?"
"You mean now that you've thought up a reasonable excuse for spying on me?" he spat without looking up.
For the first time, Harry felt really bad. He knew then how severely he'd hurt Ron and regretted it.
"Ron – I want to apologize."
"Quit wasting your time."
"No – Ron!" Harry said, determined not to get frustrated. "Please, just give me a chance to explain. I didn't mean to read your note. I don't even know why I took the invisibility cloak. I was just stupid, I guess."
"Psch – yeah." Ron said, not diverting his stare at the parchment.
"I've just been...you know..." Harry started, but Ron cut in.
"No, I don't know, Harry. Why don't you tell me what the Hell you came over here to tell me or go away."
Harry gritted his teeth.
"I've been worried about you, okay?"
Ron stopped writing and looked up.
"Worried? Why in the world would you be worried about me?"
"Because," Harry went on, feeling really uncomfortable. "You've been lagging behind and I feel you're being excluded from the group – or what was once the group."
Ron groaned.
"Harry – I hate playing games with you. First it was you being famous. Then it was you and Lupin. Now you and Hermione. You're always finding ways to shrug me off – and I'm tired of it."
"I know – I know you're tired of it." Harry said, trying not to let himself be bashed too much. "Ron – give me a break. I feel excluded as well. You never tell me anything anymore."
"I never tell you anything anymore? What do you want me to tell you that I haven't already?"
Harry shrugged, but Ron knew what he wanted.
"You want to know who I like. Admit it."
"Well – Ron! Who wouldn't want to know?"
"It's none of your business."
Harry pressed on. "Why won't you just tell me?"
Ron got very defensive then. "Because! Harry, this is really, really personal. If someone else finds out, this could blow up in my face. Nobody can know who I like. Not even you."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's stupid, Ron! You can tell me anything."
"Can I?" Ron asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Look, Harry, let me tell you something. That night I got detention, Snape asked me something. Do you know what he asked me?" He didn't wait for Harry to react. "He asked me who I liked. Said it was obvious who I did. Do you want to know something else? I told him! That was the stupidest thing I've done all year! Anyone could know!"
"So?" Harry went on. "It can't be that bad of a thing."
"But it is – Harry! No one can know."
And with that, he got up and started towards the spiral staircase. Harry was about to stop him but then thought better of it. Instead he called something.
"Just remember – we were close once. We still are."
Ron sighed as he disappeared up the staircase, leaving Harry alone once again.
"Damn it, Harry!" he found himself saying once more. "You just don't have the knack for problem solving, do you?"
Finding himself slowly wading into a sea of depression, he was about to get up and follow Ron, but fell back. An enormous pain had erupted in his forehead and he found himself on the floor.
It felt as though someone were re-cutting his scar with a red-hot sliver of steel. White erupted in his eyes and he fell face first to the carpet of the Common Room. He wouldn't remember getting there when he awoke.
The portrait hole was opened not long after and Hermione stepped halfway into it, still holding Draco's hand. She didn't want to let him go. She hadn't felt that happy in over a week.
She was about to leave Draco when he pulled her hack. With a giggle, she turned to him.
"Draco – wha -?"
But his mouth quieted hers as he gave her another kiss. She watched him grin as they parted.
"Draco –"she said, putting a hand up to stop him. "I really should be going."
"But I don't want you to leave yet," he said in a mock whine. After so long he was able to express how he really felt and now he had to let it go so soon.
Hermione smiled.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
And with that, she started into the Gryffindor Common Room, leaving Draco behind.
The creak of the portrait swinging back into place was the only sound she heard as she slowly made her way through the hole in the wall leading to the circular, warm Common Room.
Feelings continued to wash over her and she wondered if she'd ever felt any of these before. A warm, tingly feeling seemed to have washed over her and she didn't want it to stop. For a moment, she'd completely forgotten all about how much Harry had hurt her or how she could never find Ron to tell him how she felt. Finally, she had someone she could relate to and someone who she thought felt the same way back.
The Common Room, draped in scarlet and House spirit, was dim and the only source of light was the crackling fire that burned merrily as though it would never run out of wood.
About to start up the stairs, she stopped suddenly. A faint sound had caught her attention and she turned on her heel to look back into the seemingly deserted room. The fire cast an eerie glow on everything, highlighting every piece of furniture and each rounded table leading to the announcement board.
As she stepped back into the room, the noise got a little louder – a little clearer. It sounded like breathing mixed with a whimpering. At first, Hermione thought it to be a House Elf and was going to ask into the almost dark, what was wrong, but she saw none around.
Then, as she stepped around one of the chairs circling the fire, she saw the source of the noise.
"Harry!" she exclaimed as she rushed over to his crumpled form and crouched by his side, taking his hand in hers as she shook it to attempt to wake him. His eyes were squeezed shut and a thick layer of sweat coated his brow.
As Hermione shook his hand, she called out for someone.
"Help! Someone! Get down here! Harry's in trouble!"
She was afraid she hadn't been loud enough when she heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase. A group of five or six people had come out of their rooms, including the Creevey brothers and Ginny. Ginny's hair was mess and she rubbed sleep from her eyes as she entered the room.
"Hermione – what's going on?" she half yawned. But then she saw Harry and turned as pale as a ghost. "Harry! What's happened?"
Colin had his camera in hand and he snapped a picture as more people were aroused by the commotion. Hermione continued to shake Harry's arm, trying to coax him out of his stupor. The most she got out of him was a groan.
Then, Ron came down the stairs. He didn't look like he'd been asleep, still in his school robes. He gave a confused look when he spotted Hermione on the ground.
"Hermione?" he said as he surveyed the scene. Then he too saw Harry and stopped, whipped out his wand and lit it, shedding some more light on the group. "Hold on – I'll get McGonagall."
He quickly raced out of the room and out to McGonagall's office. Hermione hoped he didn't take too long.
"Hurry, Ron..." she muttered anxiously under her breath as the crowd grew, a buzzing slowly getting louder and louder. Then, the Portrait Hole opened and McGonagall, followed closely by Ron, entered.
A look of shock appeared on her face.
"Oh my goodness!" she cried as she pulled out her wand and started muttering a spell that generated a goblet filled with a blue, icy liquid in it. "Look out, Miss Granger! Let me tend to him!"
Kneeling beside Harry's fallen form, she slowly lifted his head and put the rim of the goblet to his lips. Slowly, she poured enough of it in so that Harry swallowed it. With a sputter and a cough, Harry shook his head and came too, appearing groggy.
"Huh...?" he started, but McGonagall shushed him.
"No need to talk, Potter. It's alright now."
Harry sat up quickly, looking around. Everyone he knew from Gryffindor was assembled around him in a sort of semi-circle. He blinked and reached for his glasses that had landed on the floor beside him.
"What happened...?" he started, trying to form sentences without being too slow, but the potion had done something to his speech and he couldn't form full sentences readily.
Hermione explained.
"I was coming back from...from working on my project and I found you. You were passed out on the floor. Did someone knock you out?"
Harry shook his head as he frowned, rubbing his forehead.
"No...it was...my scar..."
Half the people gasped silently, muttering things from under their breath to one another.
McGonagall slowly got up and looked around at everyone. Slowly, she motioned them back towards the Spiral Staircase.
"All right, everyone. Get back to your rooms. I must inform Professor Dumbledore about what's just happened and take Potter here to the Infirmary. It's best if you don't start a panic, please. We need to stay calm. It was probably nothing."
Slowly, the group split up and started back to the stairs.
McGonagall had Harry up on his feet after a few moments and Hermione was on the other side of him. Ron lingered behind, not believing what had just happened. Hermione turned to him and frowned.
"Ron! Aren't you going to help?"
He looked as though he'd been snapped awake and shook his head as though shaking away a thought.
"Oh, yeah. Right..."
He quickly hurried to catch up as they walked through the portrait hole. None of them said a word until they had arrived at the Hospital Wing and handed Harry over to Madame Pomfrey.
"What in world...?" the nurse exclaimed as they moved him to an empty bed and laid him down. Hermione brushed his hair out of his face as he grimaced. It looked as though he were in a lot of pain.
"His scar hurt him again. I'm going to go get Professor Dumbledore." McGonagall said as she exited the room.
After she left, the room became very quiet – filled only by the bustle of Madame Pomfrey running back and forth from Harry's bedside table to the cupboard where she kept all her magical remedies. Harry just lay in his bed, eyes closed as Hermione knelt by his side, Ron lingering a few feet away outside the light.
Once a few minutes had passed, Hermione started. She was already on edge and hoping to get some answers.
"Harry...when did your scar first start hurting?"
Harry squeezed his eyes shut before opening them. He talked through groans of pain and clenched teeth after every sentence.
"I don't know – maybe a half hour ago. Do you know how long I've been out of it?"
Hermione shook her head, but Ron spoke up.
"Probably only five minutes."
Both Hermione and Harry looked over at him and he sort of shied away. But, he went on.
"If it happened between me going up to the bed and Hermione getting back...it must have been at the most, five minutes."
Hermione nodded, then turned back to Harry.
"Yeah. That's probably about right, Harry." She took his hand and rubbed it between hers. Harry noticed that her shoulders were shaking slightly so he squeezed her hand back.
"Hermione – calm down. It's okay."
Tears were coming out of her eyes and she held Harry's hand to her lips.
"No – Harry," she started to sob. "No, it's not okay. I – oh man! I've been so stupid!"
Harry felt really confused at first, then decided she was "stupid" for being mad at him. Hermione continued to cry into his hand.
It lasted for a while, Hermione crying – Harry listening until they both slowly drifted off, not waking until half the morning was over.