Chapter 14

Harry didn't know it was possible to be angry with someone for so long, but his anger seethed in him the entire Saturday following the night in the astronomy tower. All it took was the sight of Malfoy or the slightest reminder of that night for it to roar back to life. Because there had been a pact, they had had an agreement and Harry had been fulfilling his end of it, not even realizing that Malfoy wasn't and wouldn't follow through on his. What was it even he had promised? That he would stop being a bastard? Harry couldn't believe he had ever thought Malfoy was capable of that.

And then it wasn't even something he could vent to his friends about, because it was so incredibly embarrassing. He hadn't thought Malfoy would go that far just to humiliate him.

Apart from Harry's inner turmoil and general grumpiness, which none of the others commented on, it was a slow sort of Saturday. It was spent lazing around the common room, playing games or getting written assignments for the coming week out of the way. Neville was down in the greenhouses with Hannah Abbott from early in the morning until late afternoon. Harry went down there after lunch but didn't stay long – he couldn't absorb their calm patience, and thought he would just end up saying something awful if he didn't leave.

Finally he ended up with Hermione in the comfortable chairs in Gryffindor. She was reading, he sat across from her and tried not to think about the night before, which meant it was all he could think about. She seemed completely undisturbed by his brooding. He watched her turning the pages and probably read an entire chapter in the time it took him to gather enough courage to ask her the question. He knew he had to, to get rid of that tiny "if" that was nagging him and getting in the way of his righteous anger.

"Hermione?" he said finally.

She didn't look up, but made a small "hm?" sound to indicate she was listening. He swallowed.

"Have you ever heard anything about wizards not minding… that they don't mind queers?"

He stumbled on the word. Saying it aloud it felt like a terrible, self-incriminating swear. Hermione turned a page.

"Sure. It's actually very interesting. Homosexuality is both common and unquestioned throughout wizardring society. In noble families it has even been encouraged in certain historical periods, though they do have a tradition for heterosexual marriage," she recited. "If you had bothered to take muggle-studies with me when we were younger you would have known that."

"But I've never seen anyone…"

"There's Dean and Seamus – not quite sure what the status is with that at the moment, it's not official or anything, but you know…" she shrugged, then picked up again: "And Ginny says Lavender and Parvati were together last year. She seemed so silly to me, but they all talk about her very differently now, it might just be because she's gone – no, sorry, that was an awful thing to say. I'm worried about Parvati, though. She's grown really quiet…"

"Hermione…"

She stopped and finally managed to lift her eyes to his face. He was grimacing around another half-sentence stuck in his throat.

"You didn't know about Dean and Seamus," she guessed.

"No."

She sighed.

"You're incredible, Harry. How can you not have noticed? I mean, they're not clingy, but you live with them. Even Ron knows it, and he's oblivious when it comes to romance."

Little remembered bits of conversation were clicking into place in the back of Harry's mind. Small things were making sense, most of them drowned out by the noise in his head as a major part of his world view was trying to shift, cranked by the cynicism that was Hermiones unconcerned voice.

"And he's… you're… okay with that?"

Her eyebrows shot up and suddenly she looked nervous.

"Oh shoot - I'm sorry! I was being an idiot."

Her voice finally became serious, hard and sharp the way it usually did when she decided to quiz him and Ron on homework:

"What did the Dursley's tell you?" she asked.

Harry hesitated.

"They didn't tell me anything they just…"

He gestured vaguely. He hated this. It was so uncomfortable to realize that there were lasting influences from being raised by the Dursleys that he still hadn't managed to shed. Whenever he thought he must have escaped, little things would show up and betray him. They would be habits or aspects of what he considered knowledge that it had never occurred to him to question or trace to their source. Like how when they were younger he used to stow away food from the feast, until Hermione caught him at it and forced him to explain why. Or like this moment when once again her keen eyes were trained on him and he had to fight his sudden, violent distaste for Dean and Seamus because the reason he felt that way was that Uncle Vernon used to scoff at certain people in television, it was because of the way Petunia would talk about certain neighbours with other neighbours, it was because he remembered the tone Dudley used when he had called him those names.

"Well," Hermione said, "whatever they said, they are wrong and the wizards are right about this one. All the sensible muggles agree with them."

"Okay."

She was looking pityingly at him, though she probably didn't know it.

"Okay, Hermione," he repeated. "I just didn't know."

He stood up.

"I'm… going upstairs."

"Are you sure we don't need to talk this through? You looked horrified for a moment, I'm sorry I didn't realize this was a big thing, but..."

"It's fine."

She hesitated, then nodded.

"Okay. We can talk about it later, if you want to. But just don't let this mess you up by not talking. I grew up with muggles too and so did lots of others, so it's not like no one will understand, you know, if you're confused."

How horrified had he looked that she was reacting like this, he wondered.

"I know that."

"Just… you're not alone in this, this is a normal thing. It's not just you."

"I know."

"Okay. Good."

He headed for the stairs.

ø

He had been hoping the dorm would be empty, but instead he found Seamus up there. Harry started slightly when he saw him. Seamus didn't seem to notice.

"I just need to get my broom," mumbled Harry without looking at him.

"Okay."

He grabbed his Firebolt and left.