Harry, Hermonie, and Ron walked down the hallway to their next class, potions. Ron sighed.

"Bloody hell, why do we have to have Potions with the Slytherins?" Ron complained as he kicked his foot against the floor. Hermonie laughed.

"Because we must. Stop pouting about it Ron."

"I'm not pouting."

"Yes you are."

"No I am not Hermonie."

"Stop your fighting!" Harry burst out. Ron and Hermonie jumped in surprise.

"All you do is fight, fight, fight. I can't take it today."

"Are you alright Harry?" Ron asked carefully, a confused look upon his face.

"No. It's my scar. It's hurting. Don't tell anyone. They'd just think that I was mad."

"Your scar is hurting? Has it hurt before Harry?" Hermonie asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Not that I can recall," Harry mumbled.

"We should probably tell Dumbledore about all of this." Hermonie said as she glanced down at her watch.

"No! You can't tell anyone!" Harry yelled in alarm.

"But Dumbledore could help you." Hermonie protested.

"Just leave him be Hermonie."

"I can't when it is clear Harry needs our help."

"You're always putting your nose in where it doesn't belong."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Bug off and leave the poor boy alone."

"Well I never! I think you need some manner classes Ronald Weasly!"

"And you need minding your own business classes Hermonie Granger."

"Ronald!"

"Hermonie!"

"BLOODY HELL SHUT UP!" Harry roared. They stopped and blinked at Harry. Harry sighed deeply and hurried off to the dungeons.