Harry sat on the couch, staring at his hands and trying not to think about what just happened. Who was he kidding? That was all he could think about.
Why did it surprise him so much? Could it be that he had hoped his conclusion was wrong? Had he wished the whole act would fail and Draco wouldn't be in love with him? Or was that what he feared?
He couldn't answer these questions. He closed his eyes. All he could see was Draco. Mortified Draco, looking like death had just popped up and said, "Boo!" Had he done that to him? Yes. But he hadn't meant for it to go like that. Who was he kidding? Of course he had, to some extent. Sort of.
He hated the confusion of all of this. Why did it go like that? Why did Audrey come rushing in? Why did he have to have actually enjoyed it when Eric kissed him? Why did Draco have to look so hurt? He hated it. He hated himself for causing it.
He stood up. He had too much pent up energy to stay here. His general thought was of the quidditch pitch, perhaps he would just run around it screaming until everything made sense. But before he reached the door, it opened.
"Oh, Harry! I'm glad I found you. Honestly, you didn't have to make it so hard." Hermione slipped through the door and closed it quietly behind her. "Are you alright?"
Well, scratch the jog on the pitch. He sat back down. She was expecting an answer. There were only four words he seemed to have any access to, so he used them. "What have I done?"
Hermione was an amazing friend, the best anyone could ask for. She was supportive, thoughtful, intelligent. But sometimes, sometimes she couldn't quite track others' reactions to her. This was one of those times. "Well, I hate to say I told you so…"
And yet, he knew she was right. She had warned him, all of them, about the game. Someone was bound to get hurt, and here they were. It wasn't even just one someone. Draco and Audrey. And Harry. Even Eric. They had all been hurt this time.
Hermione sat down next to him on the couch. She put an arm around his shoulder. "It's going to be alright."
He knew, he knew she was just saying it; that she couldn't promise 'alright.' But he wanted so badly to believe it, so very badly, he just went ahead and did, just for a few minutes. He let her rub his shoulder and tell him it would be alright.
But the peace of such an unfounded thought lasts for only so long. Soon, the questions crept back. He turned to Hermione. "Was all of that my fault?"
Her face flashed with some emotion, he couldn't tell which. "No, Harry, it wasn't your fault at all."
He knew that was wrong, though it seemed she might believe it. "But it is, 'Mione. I arranged for Eric to…"
She looked vaguely surprised. "You did? But why?"
"The dare."
"Oh, Harry. You did that for a stupid dare?" He nodded miserably. "I knew that game…Well, it will be alright. We can fix it."
"Fix it? We? It's not your fault, you don't have to fix it."
"But, Harry, it is my fault. I gave Audrey the note that made her…you know."
"You did what?" Now it was Hermione's turn to nod in misery. Her chin shook and she rushed as though fearing a sob cutting her off.
"I put a note in her bag. I thought I would help you, with Draco. I thought, if she left him, and maybe scared Eric away, it would be easier. I really just wanted to help, Harry, honestly!" Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. He took his turn to put an arm around her.
"I think you're right, Hermione. I think it will be alright." He wasn't in the alone. He and Hermione would fix everything. He thought about it for a few minutes as she calmed down. As her shoulders stopped shaking, she grew heavy on his shoulder. His eyelids drooped as well. They fell asleep there on the couch, buried in their problems, but hopeful all the same.
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The crisp wind snapped and whistled around the castle's sharp angular contours. Suddenly, an owl leapt out of the cold sea of air. It flew out over the grounds as the sun began to rise, banking away from the quidditch pitch, where one boy was pulling another up off the ground to lead him inside. That delivery could wait.
With the skill of a long time post owl, the bird swept to the small window above Harry's head. It tapped impatiently on the glass, waking up the girl.
It would not deliver to her, however; its instruction required that it deliver only to the dark haired boy still asleep on the couch. After quietly bickering with the bird for a minute or two, the girl finally woke him up.
Once its delivery had been made, the owl soared off again. It banked around a corner and began wending its way into the dungeons to make the delivery it had neglected earlier.
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Harry rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. Then he realized that it wasn't his eyes that were blurry. He quickly wiped the lenses on his shirt, then unrolled the piece of parchment the mysterious owl had delivered.
Potter,
Meet me in the Room of Requirement this
Saturday night at eight. Come alone and don't bring your cloak. I
have a surprise for you.
Eric
He stared at it. Another meeting? So soon? What for? Hermione stood nearby, looking worried. He folded up the parchment and pocketed it. "It's nothing."
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A sharp rapping at the door woke Draco up just as he was finally falling asleep. An owl? At this hour? He heaved himself out of his bed and staggered over to the door, pulling it open and slamming his eyes shut against the brighter light of the hallway. Yes, it was an owl. It flew into the room and he shut the door behind it, regarding it in the dim glow of his wand.
Damn and blast, he knew that owl. Why the hell was Eric's owl harassing him now? He pulled the parchment off the bird's leg. He couldn't read it in this light. He grabbed his wand off the bed and shone it on the note.
Drake,
Meet me Saturday night at eight. We need to
talk and I have a surprise for you.
Eric
Meet him? Draco was suspicious, and yet he had grown to trust Eric to some extent. One more meeting?
A million thoughts swirled through his already spinning head. He shut them off. Forget it, he would think about it in the morning. He tucked the parchment under his pillow. A ruckus in the corner reminded him of the presence of the second owl.
"Gunther! Home!" His eagle owl quickly alighted to its perch, leaving Eric's owl alone. Draco opened the door again to let the owl out, squinting to watch it glide down the hall. Maybe he would go. No, he wasn't thinking about it now. He shut the door and climbed back into bed, despite the fact that classes began in a few short hours. Tomorrow he would think. Tomorrow.