Disclaimer: I got nothin'.
Authors Note/Warning: Wellll I tried to write a Harry chapter for you lot, but my skills are rusty, so lets go easy on me, huh? Not many warnings or notes, but let me know what you think of my portrayal of the Gryffindors.
"I still don't like it."
Hermione looked up, her temper clearly near explosion from Harry's insistence on conversation. He had followed her to the library, because Ron had taken to just flat out ignoring him when Harry tried to talk to him about his theories.
"Harry. You were right. They went off to do things for you-know-who, you were right, they were up to things while they were here, but now they're off, and now Hogwarts is really safe."
Her patience was obviously wearing thin, and she dove back into her book the moment she delivered the much repeated speech, her brown eyes daring him to try and distract her again.
Harry sighed angrily, swinging his bag over his shoulder and stalking out of the library, not bothering to give her a backward glance. He knew he should just be pleased that finally all distractions had left, and now the school was rid of nearly all potential Death Eaters. But no one would agree with him that none of it made any sense.
He scowled darkly at Peeve's though the poltergeist paid him no mind; he was busy throwing papers from the window, gleefully.
He wandered down, not even noticing as he was drawn down towards the lake. He was a little surprised when he spotted one of the Ravenclaws, err, Timmy Boot, or something sitting, with a telescope trained on the sky. It wasn't that dark, but the sun was out of the way, so the Ravenclaw wasn't just blinding himself, but this was hardly peak astronomy time.
He had a vivid flashback to that day when the whole school seemed all riled up about some rumor about the Slytherins breaking curfew, and Boot and one of the other Ravenclaws had been rather chummy with Zabini.
He redirected, and walked up to the Ravenclaw, hesitating before sitting down next to the boy, deciding that if he though Hermione was short tempered with him when he interrupted her homework Boot here might actually kill him.
Boot flicked his eyes sideways, and seemed mildly surprised to see Harry there, but his eyes were drawn back to his telescope instead of saying anything.
They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Boot sighed, and put his telescope down. "Yes?" He asked, though his tone wasn't the unfriendly brush off Harry had expected when he had disrupted the boys studies.
"I-Well, You, you know, you're, well, you were rather chummy with Malfoy and Zabini, weren't you?" Harry said, mentally cursing his lack of eloquence. If only Hermione believed him, she would surely be better about phrasing her questions.
"I guess. Blaise is a nice chap, and Draco's nice enough as long as you don't take him seriously."
The Ravenclaws tone was slow, measured, as he evaluated Harry through his spectacles.
"D'you know where they went, that whole lot of Slytherins?" Harry said, deciding that being direct would probably be the best way to get this all out in the open, and so that he could get his answers.
Boot pursed his lips slightly, and gave Harry a long look before he answered. "They didn't say, exactly. But. They didn't go off to fight for you know who."
"Did they tell you that?" Harry's interest was piqued. Maybe he needed some out of house friends that weren't as excitable as Ernie Macmillan or as spacey as Luna. This was the first time that someone had not thought that they were just off to be accepted into the fold.
"No, but they wouldn't be considered missing if their parents had pulled them out of school. And anyhow, you know who killed off some of their mothers, and no one can just overlook something like that. And anyways, why wouldn't they have left some of them, if they were death eaters, to try and kill you. Doesn't you know who try to kill you quite often? Why would he pull troops out of where you are? No, I don't know where they are, but I don't think they would've just up and gone like that."
Boot's voice was getting agitated and accusatory, but he checked himself, and finished his tirade with a more tired intonation than anything else. But before Harry could comment on his theories, Boot added a question.
"Why do you care where they went?"
"I don't know. I don't like to think about you know who having fourth years or even seventh years fighting his battles for him, and I guess I hoped they would be on you know, my- our side. The, err good guys, or what not."
Boot nodded thoughtfully, his agitation forgotten, and he turned back to his notes, obviously having decided their conversation was over. Harry frowned slightly, a bit put out that the only person he'd been able to fid that agreed with him was sort of done with him, but he wanted to go and try and get Ron to talk this out with him. He knew his ginger haired friend was getting tired of Harry's flip flopping on the git Malfoy, but there had never not been any Slytherins at Hogwarts, while harry had been there anyways. And now there was one seventh year, and then nothing save a few fourth and fifth years, and a more or less complete first second and third year sets, but still.
It made it seem a bit more real, and he didn't know why the idea of fighting his school rivals made him feel sick, but it did. School rivalry might have felt like vivid hate while it was happening, but he wouldn't kill Malfoy or his cronies, and he knew Malfoy and his cronies might pretend they were out for blood but it wasn't as if they were set on murdering him, at the end of the day it was all in good fun. Though that fun might be bloody and crazed, it seemed painful and real now that they had been forced to either go to the man that had just killed their mothers, or flee him. And Harry didn't know which he preferred, much less why he cared.