Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It wasn't long before at least one of Harry's friends came up to him to apologize. Harry was just surprised as to who. "Harry," Ron began, pausing often to chew over his words, "I'm…sorry. I didn't mean to push Neville on you, and if you're still mad you have every right to be. But now you know that I'm trying to be a better friend than I was." He bowed his head, ginger locks falling in front of his eyes.
Harry smiled. "Thanks, Ron," he told him. "That means a lot, coming from you." Harry clapped him on the back, and Ron visibly stiffened. "And I'm not mad any more, just so you know."
Harry laughed. "Don't worry, I haven't got a crush on you, Ron. I tend to stay away from the overly macho guys," he teased.
Ron buffed up. "Overly macho, huh?" Ron repeated, flexing his Quidditch muscles.
Harry snickered. "You look like a right ponce," he admitted.
Ron tried not to laugh. He shoved Harry playfully, "Oh, shut up, you."
Harry's smirk faded. "Is Hermione still mad at me?" he inquired.
Ron sighed. "You know Hermione," he replied, "Her feathers are still ruffled because you had the sense to push back. She'll get over herself eventually."
"Are you in much trouble for siding with me?" Harry asked sympathetically.
Ron winced. "She called me a prat, which isn't at all out of the usual, but she also told me to not come within ten feet of her if I wanted to keep my privates."
Harry nodded. "Sounds rather Hermione-ish." He sighed. "I didn't mean to cause everyone this must trouble, you know," he said, sounding rather mope-ish. "When you break up with someone it's always hard, but you'd expect your friends to be behind you."
"Well, yeah," Ron stated, "but we're Neville's friends too."
Later on that day, Harry found his stomach in knots for Potions. Usually that only occurred when he knew Snape was going to be particularly harsh on him, or even the past couple of days when he dreaded having to face Neville as a partner. But today was the Big day.
Today he would finally find out who actually left him the love letters.
He had stopped to think that maybe it was a guy who was only looking for fame in being his boyfriend, or someone trying to hurt him, or Merlin-forbid a girl. His heart twisted and his eyes teared up, not wanted the whole ordeal to just be some elaborate hoax. He dropped his eyes to the stone floor of the corridor he was walking. Maybe it was stupid of him to think that anyone would want him for him, not the famous Harry Potter.
A tear slid down his cheek.
Maybe he was only in for more heartbreak and despair.
The tear dripped off his chin and landed on his swinging arm, his head swiveled into his shoulder, nose sniffling.
He looked back up, eyes defiant. Maybe that's all that he was going to get, but he could also find out that his paramour was the real thing. Maybe by chancing this, he would win big.
The corner of his mouth quirked upwards into a Slytherin-esque smirk.
He was ready.
Hermione huffed hotly as Ron told her that he felt that he needed to side with Harry on this one. "What do you mean 'side with Harry', Ron?" she asked dangerously. "Aren't I your girlfriend? Aren't you supposed to side with me?"
Ron sighed exasperatedly. "Of course you're my girlfriend, 'Mione. I just don't think that Harry wants to go out with Neville anymore is all, and I support that. And anyway, it's not all about sides. I can be on both sides, you know. Not everything's an ultimatum."
Hermione told him, "Harry's being an idiot. He's throwing away a perfectly good relationship! Neville's a perfectly good person, and every makes mistakes, and-!"
Ron cut her off with a chaste peck on her lips. She stopped talking and smiled into the kiss. Ron smirked. "Harry's a grown bloke," he replied, "He'll make his own decisions whether they're the ones you want him to or not. Either we support him and he does what he wants to do while still being our friend, or we don't and he still does whatever he wants to do while we're not friends."
She bit the inside of her lip. "I just don't want him to make a mistake and end up hurting even more," she confessed, leaning into Ron's broad chest.
Ron smiled sympathetically. "That's noble and all, but if he were to get back together with Nev that would be a mistake. They're just not cut for each other," he said. He smiled and added teasingly, "Not like us, anyway."
Hermione chuckled. "Oh no, nothing like us."
Neville sighed as he headed to Potions. Hermione and Ron had just informed him, together and holding hands lovingly, that they were going to support Harry in whatever he wanted to do and that they were wrong not to do that in the first place. He felt the loss was a blow directly at his character. Of course, they had told him that it was nothing to do with him, just that he was a perfectly nice person but Harry was their best friend.
He doubted he'd have anyone else on his side of the argument anymore after they left.
The three of them were, after all, the leaders of the Gryffindor house. And the Gryffindor house led Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, even if the Ravenclaws liked to tell them that they didn't follow anyone. The Slytherins would eventually come around to the idea that Harry was in the right too.
He sighed.
And it would go down in history that he was the bum that lied to Harry Potter and dissolved their relationship because of it.
What can I do to redeem myself in Harry's eyes?
--
Harry strode into the classroom boldly. He scanned the room. Empty seats filled it with not even Snape to be seen. He was the first one to arrive. He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes early.
A smile spread across his face. "Perfect," he whispered to the empty chairs and newly-washed chalkboards. He'd have more than enough time to evaluate the people that entered.
He opened a notebook and pretended to be studying for the exam they were taking the next class. Potion making terms and ingredient properties filled the blue lines.
When he heard someone approaching the classroom, he dropped his eyes to the pages and began to read them.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the first person to arrive was Millicent Bulstrode. He quickly calculated the clues in the note and found that it couldn't be her. The note implied that the person sat near him, and Millicent sat clear on the other side of the classroom.
She sat in her desk with a sound thump and gazed idly at the Ingredient Room's door.
He shook his head discreetly.
Definitely not the note-writer.
The next people arrived in a group. Seamus grinned in his direction, while Dean waved, and Parvati and Lavender giggled. All Gryffindors.
His eyes turned to the next group coming in the door. Malfoy and his goons. He snickered internally. If Malfoy was to have a crush on him, he clearly would have stated it more transparently than in notes. The words "Oi, Potter, let's go out" were more likely to come out of his lips than a love poem.
Crabbe and Goyle were out of the question as well, as neither of them had the mental capacity for it. Or at least, not that they let on to.
He frowned.
Maybe it was one of them…he would let them come to him, however, before he inquired.
He tapped the end of his quill on the shiny exterior of his desk. This wasn't as easy as he had thought it would be. People who he hadn't thought of before were quickly thrusting themselves into his mind, and those who he had been previously certain were not him were now on his 'maybe' list.
Hermione and Ron came in and sat on his right.
"Any luck, mate?" Ron asked. Hermione leaned in, intent on hearing his answer. Harry smiled. Ron had gotten her to come around after all.
"Not yet," Harry told them regretfully.
"Well," Hermione commanded him, "don't give up! Surely he'll be here soon."
Harry smiled fretfully and turned his gaze back to the doorway.
Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass stepped into the classroom three minutes later. Daphne caught his eye, her face transforming into gleeful happiness. She elbowed Blaise in the ribs, to which the latter rubbed the area where the pain was inflicted.
"Ow," he told her quietly, careful to not return Harry's hopeful gaze.
"See you after class," Daphne said, flouncing to her seat beside Millicent before giving Blaise an obvious wink.
Blaise sat down in his own seat. He rummaged through his bag, avoiding Harry at all costs.
"Hello, Blaise," Harry greeted breathlessly.
Blaise had no choice but to look up. He wanted to melt down further in his seat. Emerald eyes shimmered behind glasses, with black locks styled so they framed the pale face beneath it. His rosebud mouth was slightly opened, clearly waiting for a response, and his cheeks were flushed.
"H-hello," Blaise stammered.
Harry smiled more.
"How are you?" Harry inquired, eyes twinkling with mirth.
"I'm fantastic," he replied with his own smile, showing off a set of straight white teeth.
"Oh, that's good," Harry told him, leaning into his words.
"Yeah," Blaise agreed.
Harry continued to stare at Blaise, half with wonder and half with a dazed happiness.
"I have something to confess," Blaise told him, stomach full of butterflies as he tried to muster the confidence to continue.
"…yes?" Harry answered for him to continue.
"I, um…" Blaise began, but was cut off as Neville walked into the classroom.
He took his spot beside Harry at the table, his greeting smile fading as he saw the way Harry was looking at Blaise, and Blaise back.
"What's going on?" he asked shrilly.
Harry ignored him, eyes dropped to the floor and hands clenched into fists.
Blaise observed the heavier boy coolly and stated, "I don't believe that's any of your business, Longbottom."
"Anything dealing with Harry is my business, Zabini," Neville replied icily. "After all, he is my boyfriend."
Blaise blanched. He quickly leaned back into his seat, taken aback by Neville's comment. "Oh," he said quietly. "I see."
Harry's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?" he asked Neville, eyes flashing angrily.
Neville smiled in response. "Yes, Harry?" he answered.
"We're not going out anymore, Neville," Harry told him. Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks amongst themselves.
"We're just going through a rough patch is all, love," Neville said, lacing his fingers with Harry's. Harry withdrew his hand quickly.
He glanced over at Blaise, who was still pale in his seat. "We're not going out," he insisted, more to Blaise than to Neville.
"Don't say that," Neville said through gritted teeth.
"All I'm saying is the truth," Harry told him stubbornly.
"Don't say that!" he said loudly, gaining the attention of the classroom. Daphne watched Blaise with sad eyes.
"Don't cause a scene," Harry shot back flippantly.
Blaise turned away from the two.
"You're the one who's causing a scene!" Neville roared.
Blaise gathered his things and placed them into his bag.
"Why can't you just accept the fact that we're through, Neville? We're through. We're through," he repeated, "We're through. We're through. WE ARE THROUGH."
Blaise got up quietly and left the classroom.
He was halfway down the corridor, the argument nearly fading into silence, when he ran into Snape.
"Where are you going, Mr. Zabini?" he inquired silkily.
"I feel ill, sir," he replied, staring at his feet, and not lying in the least, "I'm going to go to the Infirmary."
Snape grabbed his chin and lifted it so Blaise would look at him. He searched his eyes, and then let the boy go. "Very well," he nodded.
Blaise fled.
And voila.