Hello, everyone! I hope you all are going splendidly about your lives. My exams just finished (Whew!) and I've finally gotten a much-needed two-month break! Yayyy.
As always, thank you for patiently waiting for the update! Hopefully, if fate allows me, the next chapter would be posted this Sunday. Now that I don't have uni looming over me, I have more time to write and edit. See you then!
They introduced intervals in a strange way. Upon Umbridge's instructions, a house-elf was made to climb a long pillar and hit a tuning fork, magically altered to sound even louder, so its noise could travel across the vast Great Hall. It seemed unnecessary – and cruel because Hermione knew some house-elves did not like heights. Winky had taught her that much.
She had initially planned to excuse herself from Theodore the minute these intervals were announced. But now, for some strange reason, she lingered by his side, not wanting to abandon him.
Theodore immediately noticed the stark change in her behaviour and smirked playfully. "So, you're not going to meet up with your mates. For better company, maybe?"
Hermione sighed in a fed-up tone but also couldn't look at him. "They're all busy."
That part was at least true. Ron and Lavender were still locked in a slow dance, absent in their own world, Neville and Luna seemed to be engaged in a personal conversation that Hermione didn't want to interrupt, and Harry was nowhere to be seen.
"I'm very thirsty," she informed Theodore, adjusting her skirt. "Do you want anything to drink –"
"Later," Theodore cut in before grinning with a glint in his eye. "I want you to meet the Squad first."
Hermione's mouth dropped open.
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah! Let's go meet them!"
Theodore clearly didn't know how much rivalry Hermione had with his squad. But how could he not? Was he stupid?
"No, Theodore. That is NOT a good idea."
"Oh, come on. Nothing bad will happen."
Hermione shook her head and started backpedalling. But Theodore was quicker. He grabbed her hand, forcing her to remain still.
"Nothing bad will happen," he repeated, his eyes drilling hers.
But Hermione didn't share his views. Not at all. She hated Malfoy and his snobby group, and nothing would make her approach them on amicable terms. Nothing.
So, it wasn't a surprise that she had gained a sudden urge to get away from Theodore.
"This isn't a good idea," she said, tugging at his hand to free hers, "I'll go. I think Harry's calling me."
It wasn't true. She couldn't see Harry anywhere. But that was the first excuse she came up with.
At the mention of Harry, Theodore frowned.
"Oh, yeah? Where is he?" he challenged her.
Dear Merlin…
"He just left the Great Hall." Hermione shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. "I guess he wants me to follow him."
For some reason, she loved bothering Theodore with Harry's name.
"You're not going anywhere with Potter. Not tonight," he declared, squeezing her hand in anger. "Now, let's go meet my friends."
Hermione was flabbergasted at his audacity.
"You're not my boss –"
But the rest of her words hung in mid-air as Theodore pulled her towards the dreaded Inquisitorial Squad. Hermione would have dug her feet into the ground to stop him if it wasn't for the shiny floor and her heeled shoes.
So, of course, she had no choice. Reluctantly, she let him take her to the people she hated the most in Hogwarts.
"Hey!" Theodore grinned as soon as they approached the group. His friends, who were chatting fervently before, went into complete silence at their arrival. Hermione could feel everyone staring at her, but she kept her eyes down, refusing to even look at them.
"Hey, man!" Blaise Zabini, the least-annoying member, clapped Theodore's arm. "Keeping track of your duties tonight?"
"Trying. It's difficult if you know –"
"And keeping this Mudblood under your grasp, I see," Pansy Parkinson, the only girl (maybe apart from Cho) Hermione wanted to hex really badly, spoke up.
"Hey, be nice." Theodore laughed, glossing over the matter.
"I didn't expect this from you, Nott," Malfoy said, his drawl appearing more significant than usual, "Why did you take this Mudblood to the dance again?"
Maybe it was his voice. Maybe it was his slander. Or maybe because he was him.
But Hermione had enough.
"My name…" she spoke up through gritted teeth, suddenly looking directly at Malfoy, "is Hermione Granger. Not Mudblood, you –"
"Calm down!" Theodore interrupted, grabbing her hand.
But Malfoy just grinned. "What were you gonna say, Granger? I'm all ears."
"Probably something stupid," Daphne, who was standing beside him, rolled her eyes. "Considering how she's friends with that foolish Weasley."
"Oh, shut up, you tacky Veela," Hermione retorted.
"Says the girl who's dressed up like an ornament," Pansy retorted, giving Hermione a dirty look, "In case your slow Mudblood brain didn't know, Christmas is over."
"I didn't ask for your opinion –"
"Neither did I ask for your input," Daphne chimed in.
"15 points from Gryffindor for having an insolent mouth." Pansy grinned. At her words, the entire group laughed except for Theodore and Hermione, the latter growing so livid that she had to force herself to not take out her wand.
"You can't do that!"
"I just did," Pansy smirked.
"Good going, Parkinson," Malfoy approved, still chuckling.
Their taunts were hurting Hermione unimaginably. Tears stung her eyes, and she felt stupid because of them. Of course, this was Theodore's plan all along. Why else would he take her to his stupid group when he knew they hated each other? He wanted to let them have a go at her. And she, losing her sense for some reason when she was with him, walked right into his trap. He was a Slytherin. He would never think in her favour. She was a fool for thinking he might.
Not allowing them the pleasure to see her cry, Hermione abruptly rushed away from the group angrily. She hated every one of them. Even Mr. Better Man.
"Oh, look, we hurt the Mudblood's feelings," She heard Pansy say sarcastically. Hermione closed her eyes and paid her no heed.
Her friends still looked unapproachable, so she took refuge behind a pillar, refusing to look at the other students. Their happiness was making her green with envy. Why couldn't she be like that? Always happy? Always smiling? Why was it that something good happened for once, and it just turned out to be a hoax? A disguise for the real thing? The real thing that was so ugly and could leave her shattered? Theodore finally started to look like a good choice, but he wasn't really defending Hermione back there. Then again…why should he? They were his friends. Even Malfoy, she could tell.
She was just stupid enough to believe him.
Hermione sighed and leaned back against the pillar. Suddenly, she wished she wasn't standing in this desolate corner, hiding from everyone else. Wished she wasn't holding this string of expectations for her life to turn better. Wished she was in the arms of the only person who could make her truly happy, but he wasn't here. Where was he?
No, but really…where was he?
Hermione straightened up and peered around the pillar, her searching eyes looking for her best friend. But she couldn't locate him. Did he leave the party? Was he okay? He did look very disturbed when he was dancing with Cho. She hoped that wretched girl hadn't gone onto his last nerve.
Hermione reckoned she should find him. It was dangerous to leave him alone these days. Voldemort could control him at any given minute, considering how he wasn't that proficient at Occlumency yet.
However, before she could move, Theodore appeared.
"What are you doing here?"
"Hiding from you and everyone else," Hermione answered indifferently.
"But…why?"
"Really? You can't be that dumb!"
Theodore sighed. "If this is about my friends…"
"Of course it's about your friends!" Hermione shouted before she could stop herself. "I told you it wasn't a good idea, but like I said, you don't listen to me! We can't get along. I hate your friends, especially that thick-headed Pansy…"
"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Theodore snapped. "She's a great girl."
Hermione scoffed. "What's so great about her, I'd like to know?"
Much to her annoyance, and a little curiosity, Theodore blushed as he replied. "Everything. She's bold and smart. Pretty. You don't know her like I do."
Hermione stared at him. "Are you seriously complimenting the same girl who made me look foolish in front of your stupid group?!"
But Theodore just shrugged. "I told you. You don't know her that well."
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly uneasy. Something wasn't clicking right here.
Little did she know she was about to find out why…
The dance was really starting to get on Harry's nerves. If Dumbledore had a hand in it, he sure was failing because Harry hadn't felt this frustrated in a long time.
So the moment they had announced an interval, he had immediately excused himself from Cho, brushed past the crowd, and exited the Great Hall altogether.
Outside, it was eerily, but thankfully, quiet. The event was suffocating him. He took a few deep breaths to regain his composure. But it was no use. He couldn't get rid of the loathful image.
In his mind's eye, he could still see her, her body wrapped in the Slytherin's arms, her gaze steady as it fixed upon nothing but him, her lithe figure like little petals floating in a summer breeze.
Harry sighed and leaned against a cool brick wall.
It was so ironic, wasn't it? Hermione had told him to enjoy himself as much as he could. Keep his mind clean from all troubling thoughts. Ignore her stances despite his better judgement. What good was her advice, though, when she was the reason behind his current distress? Could she ever imagine that she could ruin him emotionally like this? Could he ever imagine that? Well, he knew himself. His wavering, uncertain self, and knew things were drastically changing. The old Harry wouldn't have batted an eyelash if Hermione had gone with his enemy. But this Harry…this newer, more easily frustrated, mentally sick Harry hated every second Hermione spent with that halfwit. The feeling wasn't that intense before. Not even yesterday. No, it seemed like Harry's resentment against Nott increased when he saw him actually touching Hermione, making her laugh, igniting real joy on her face. Before, she always resisted his advances, but not tonight. Tonight, she wasn't only accepting them. She was responding to them, too.
So how could she expect Harry to relax?
Such a thought made his anger return. Since he couldn't hurt Theodore nor pull Hermione away from him, Harry wanted to hurl something, anything, against the wall and watch it shatter into a million pieces. That could relieve some of his anger. Or he hoped so, at least.
But there wasn't anything available. Harry exhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Maybe he should practice Occlumency to wipe his mind. Maybe that could erase this growing empty feeling inside him.
But no sooner had he started concentrating when a loud, booming voice interrupted his activity.
"Harry Potter! Out in this barren hall? What gives, my boy?"
It was the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost. He wasn't too bad. Thank Merlin it wasn't Peeves, or Harry would have exploded.
"Just...came here to think," he replied, not looking at the floating figure.
"Think?" the Fat Friar laughed. "There's plenty of time to think! But not enough time to party if you ask me."
"I'd prefer being out here to inside." Harry shrugged. "Apparently, I don't get enough time to think."
"Oh, leave the worldly affairs aside, Harry." The ghost chuckled. "They would never leave us alone, but sometimes, you must take the reins yourself and avoid these nasty problems for the sake of your sanity."
"But what if these nasty problems are attached to you?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "What if they're the ones controlling the reins?"
"Then you'd have to use force. They're sucking you off. You're the host, meaning you can gain control over them." His silver face brightened with a smile. "They've brought out the drinks. The ones the youths are fond of. Ah...what's it called again?"
"Butterbeer?"
"Precisely! I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss it." He sighed. "I wish I could see for myself what all the fuss is about. But alas...my taste buds."
"Right..." said Harry. No, he didn't want Butterbeer. He wanted Frothyrum. Ever since he had tasted the other drink, Butterbeer seemed sickly sweet. Too sugary.
On the other hand, Frothyrum had just the right amount of sweetness with a bitter aftertaste. As bitter as Harry's soul. Maybe that's why he had grown partial to it.
Meanwhile, the Fat Friar had launched into a story.
"You know, back in my day, we used to have this strange drink that was upside down. Bubbles at the bottom, drink at the top. It was hilarious, really, but oh-so-delicious, too! It was the time when Queen Elizabeth was alive. You know, the Monarch..."
But Harry couldn't listen to the rest of the ghost's tale because he had re-entered the Great Hall. He was thirsty. And he needed a drink.
Now that he had caught a whiff of the calming silence outside, the Great Hall seemed even louder, more claustrophobic, and too bright. The students and faculty members were spread everywhere, talking and laughing like there was no tomorrow. It was crazy how he was feeling grey and dull in such a joyous room. Why couldn't he be happy like that?
At least the Fat Friar was right. Near the fireplace, a large booth had been set up. Mr Beasant, the man who made Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, Madam Rosmerta, the server, and a couple of house-elves were manning the booth, handing out large cups of the beloved foaming liquid to the students and some teachers.
Harry got a drink for himself and settled down near a pillar in the far corner of the room. Here, he could see everyone at the party, but nobody could see him, and that suited him just fine.
He took a sip of the drink and grimaced. It was too…sugary. He didn't think this could relieve him. In fact, he realised he didn't want Butterbeer at all. He needed something stronger. Something that could knock him out, make him tipsy so he could forget his troubles, or burn so much that his insides feel like they're on fire. How many times had he seen Uncle Vernon drink brandy whenever he was stressed? He had lost count.
But of course, Harry wasn't stupid. He knew drinking alcohol was forbidden for both magical and Muggle kids. Hard luck…
Trying to keep the sweetened drink down, he observed the crowd from his quiet spot. He saw Neville and Luna engaged in a conversation suitable for only their ears, Cho giggling and gossiping with her friends, Ginny with her new boyfriend, Michael Corner from Ravenclaw, joking around with the twins. And then, finally, when some people cleared his view, he saw her, hiding in her own lonely spot, her red dress gathered beneath her, watching the happy people, just like he was…
How could two people be so alike yet so distant?
He could also make out that she wasn't just watching the crowd; she was searching. Searching for someone. Was she searching for him?
A part of him hoped, prayed, that was true. But another part dismissed it. She must be searching for Theodore. Who else?
Apparently, her wish was fulfilled because the Slytherin discovered her a moment later. Harry saw her features twist into an angry scowl. An argument erupted between them. He was too far away from them, so he didn't know what they were saying. But judging by how Hermione seemed to be shouting at Nott, it could be something serious.
After some seconds, the pug-faced girl from Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, joined the duo. Harry knew how much Hermione hated her, especially after she had spread such lies about her for Skeeter's report last year. So, it didn't surprise him that she had gained a bitter look at the girl's arrival, complicating things.
Now intrigued with the exchange happening far away, Harry stood up, his Butterbeer forgotten, and watched the trio argue back and forth. Hermione's face changed again, but this time…it made his heart skip.
Something was wrong.
Hermione's confusion increased when Pansy materialised out of seemingly nowhere beside Theodore. She regarded Theodore with glowy eyes and Hermione as if she was a Flobberworm.
"Theo, I can't believe you're spending your precious time and energy on this sorry excuse for a witch." She tsk-tsked. "Have you lost your mind?"
Although Pansy held as much value for Hermione as a bad grade, her words stung like an open wound.
"Look who's talking." She rolled her eyes. "This isn't your business, so get out of our faces."
"Ha! As if I'd listen to a Mudblood." Pansy scoffed, her skin shining underneath the chandelier. Hermione so wanted to slash all that paleness. "And just so you know, Miss Granger, this is my business as much as yours."
"Are you lethargic? Or just plain dumb?"
"Careful with your tongue, or I might deduct house –"
"You won't be here to see tomorrow if you did –"
"Girls!" Theodore finally spoke up, looking at the two in intervals. "Calm down, okay?"
But Hermione was beyond agitated.
"I hate your friends, Theodore. I think I've made that clear!"
"Oh, come on, Theo," Pansy groaned. "I thought you had more sense than taking this –" She screwed up her nose at Hermione. "This thing to the dance. I know what you're doing."
"I'm doing nothing…"
"Ha! So you're a liar, too! I didn't realise you were such a mystery to me!" Pansy laughed. "But I'm smart, and I know you. I know what all this is about."
Her utterance appeared heavy...heavy enough to push him into silence. He deliberately avoided Hermione's eyes and picked his nails.
Wait...
"What is she talking about, Theodore?" Hermione asked.
"I don't bloody know."
"Aw, Theo. Don't be shy! Tell her!" Pansy grinned, clearly enjoying this. "Tell her about your brilliant scheme!"
"Scheme?" Hermione repeated, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears.
"Yes. A scheme," said Pansy, "A scheme that involved you, didn't it, Theodore?"
"What is she talking about?!" Hermione exclaimed, hating her frail voice, "What does she mean?!"
Finally, he looked up but to throw Pansy a helpless glance. His expression was baffling Hermione to another level. She could sense something was going on and could reach a plausible conclusion, but she pushed it aside as not being the truth.
But Theodore remained silent. A pink hue appeared on his cheeks, making him look ashamed. Embarrassed. Almost innocent. Definitely not the look of a person who had sinister ideas.
When it became clear he wouldn't speak a word, Pansy sighed dramatically and stepped up to Hermione. She leaned in, becoming almost nose-to-nose with the other girl, and gained a crooked smile.
"I bet you felt special, didn't you?" She squinted her eyes. "A boy from Slytherin and the Inquisitorial Squad? Asking a worthless Mudblood like you to the dance when he had the entire school open for him? Oh, it must have felt good. I bet you started talking to the sky, didn't you, Granger?"
"Get away from me," Hermione threatened.
But Pansy merely smirked. "Well, you should get off your high horse because you're nothing but a tool for him." She turned to face Theodore. "Isn't that right, Theo?
He looked like he wanted to speak but thought better of it. As a result, Pansy regarded Hermione with a scornful look again.
"I wonder why all the teachers adore you so much," she said while Hermione turned angrier at every passing word. "I wonder why they think you're this smart, gifted child when you can't even see the elaborate plan in front of you? That you're a part of."
"You don't know what you're talking about!"
"Oh, I know exactly what I'm talking about." She sighed and stepped away to loop her arm around Theodore's. "And frankly speaking, it worked like a charm. I'm here, Theo. Didn't you want that?"
The more Pansy talked, the more Hermione's heart thrashed in her ribcage because everything – right from his sudden proposal to his distracted endeavours – suddenly made complete sense.
She had walked into the same plan she had devised herself.
No. That can't be true. He asked me again. He begged me to go with him tonight!
But now that Hermione's brain had started working, putting two and two together seemed easy. Everyone must know how much Pansy hated Hermione Granger, the brilliant student who outclassed them all despite being a Mudblood. Theodore, who was head over heels in love with her, asked Hermione to the dance because it was bound to make her jealous. Make him more desirable in her eyes.
In other words, he used Hermione, right down to the last minute, and like a fool, she bought his act.
"What is she talking about, Theodore?" she asked him, suddenly feeling dizzy. It wouldn't matter to her if it was some other girl because they weren't dating. But it did matter. Because it was about Pansy. She was used like a ploy for the girl she hated with every fibre of her being.
As expected, Theodore couldn't meet her eyes, but he replied all the same. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I had run out of options."
"So you decided to stoop so low and lie about everything to me?!" she shouted, making the pair flinch.
"You're smart. I thought you'd figure it out." He sighed, "But you didn't…"
"Yes! Because a part of me really wanted to believe you could be better!" she yelled, suddenly enraged. "I had a huge argument with my best friend over this! I knew he was right, but I wanted to believe you could be someone special. That not everyone from Slytherin was a self-centred jerk!"
"Lower your voice!" Pansy suddenly exclaimed. "An event is going on!"
Hermione stared at her, speechless at her audacity. She wanted to tear her apart. Burn her on the stake like the deceitful witches of the Mediaeval period. The astounding part was that Hermione actually wanted to do it, so she held her skirt tightly with her shaking fists, not trusting herself.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Theodore was saying again, now looking at her. She could see shame in his eyes. "I'm really sorry. At first, that was my plan, yes. To ask you out in hopes of winning Pansy –"
"And you did!" The said girl kissed him on the cheek.
"But then, you acted so nice. So friendly that one part of my brain commanded me to tell you everything. But I…couldn't do that because you would have walked away, and my plan would have failed."
Despite his obvious embarrassment and his soft voice that showed he was truly sorry for what he did, Hermione did not feel any pity. She had lost all her empathic qualities. The only thing revolving in her mind was that she was used. Used like a tool for Pansy, the pug-faced girl who had humiliated her all her life. Made her miserable. Painted her as someone she was not last year. Theodore didn't think she was smart. He didn't think she was beautiful or brilliant. He was just playing along to get the girl that happened to be Hermione's mortal enemy.
She felt her heart hardening into stone, but at the same time, jitters ran through her whole body. Harry was right all along. Theodore was bad news. He was a malicious jerk whose only motive was using Hermione. And she was stupid enough to buy his dishonesties. He wasn't the charming boy her mind had started to perceive just a few minutes before; he was a snake, just like his friends.
"Stop," she breathed out, interrupting Theodore's reverie. "Stop trying to make me see reason in your actions!"
"Hermione, I –"
"We're done, Theodore! Okay?!" she cried, her face turning crimson. "Go enjoy the rest of the dance with this bloody idiot, and don't come looking for me!"
"Who are you calling a bloody idiot, you –"
"No need to get so rude," Theodore spoke up, suddenly menacing. But Hermione was far from being afraid of him.
"What? So you can shatter my life in seconds, and I can't even be angry?!" she shouted. "You know what? You two belong with each other. A pair of stupid, egoistic jerks!"
"Yes, we do!" Theodore shouted back, turning Hermione silent. "Yes, we do belong together! And I was willing to take every step to make that happen! I'm in love with her!"
Pansy gasped at his declaration while Hermione stared.
Life was so ironic. How did she end up in the same plan she had made for Theodore to win Harry over? And now, she was all alone, living with the burden of being used as an instrument for Pansy. Harry probably wouldn't even talk to her when he found out he was right.
Out of the blue, unwanted tears pooled in her eyes. Thinking about Harry made her anger turn to sadness. He was right about everything. He was right when he said he didn't want to see her hurt, right for staring at her throughout the dance. Her heart ached for him. She wanted him here, both for support and to hold him, but he was absent.
Suddenly, she hated this dance. This occasion. These happy couples with their happy relationships. The overly joyful environment. It was suffocating. Stuffy. She couldn't breathe. She needed to get out of here.
But not before she did something to avenge herself. Her sympathetic self that was so easily manipulated without a moment's notice.
Around her, music started once again. The second round of the dance was commencing. Pansy's eyes grew large.
"Let's dance!" she excitedly exclaimed, and Theodore smiled at her. He smiled. As if he hadn't played with Hermione's feelings and made her look like a complete fool in front of her rival.
The thought angered her, making her mind go haywire. Before she knew it, she had stepped up to Theodore – and gave him a resounding slap, right across his cheek. The impact was so hard that he went staggering. Now, Hermione thought she would smirk. Or make a cutting remark. Because she had humiliated him in front of his girlfriend.
But instead, tears started to run down her face.
Holding back choked sobs, she gathered her dress and ran away from Theodore, away from Pansy, away from this stifling crowd that she kept bumping into without apologising. Her vision had gone blurry. Her chest was on fire. She needed air desperately.
The night had taken a turn for the absolute worst…
From his secluded corner of the Great Hall, Harry had seen the whole thing unfold. It was like watching a silent movie without the displayed dialogues and judging by the exchange and reactions, he could get the gist of what had happened.
But just as he was processing everything, his brain paused when Hermione slapped Theodore, loud and hard. Or it seemed like it, mostly because she had almost sent him flying. At the sight, something like ecstasy brewed in Harry's chest, but it immediately transformed into concern when he saw her burst into tears and run for the exit. As if they had a mind of their own, his legs started moving, treading carefully – then sprinting across the room in the desperate attempt to catch up with her, to stop her. But the dance was starting again and gathering couples obstructed his path. Before he knew it, she had vanished into thin air.
Harry knew what he must do. He had to follow her.
But he had only taken a couple of steps when someone tugged his arm.
"Harry, where are you going?"
Shit...
"Come on, let's dance," Cho persisted, her lips stretched in a smile.
Impatiently, Harry looked at her, then at the great double doors. Behind them, Hermione was crying somewhere, and Harry couldn't leave her alone in such a state. But telling Cho that would be as good as casting the killing curse on himself. She'd go mad. He had to lie.
But when he opened his mouth, he somehow blurted out the truth.
"Can't. I have to meet up with Hermione," he said, "Something happened to her."
Instantly, Cho narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Yes. Please understand. She..." Phrasing words was difficult. "She needs me right now."
By Cho's expression, he must have said something as ludicrous as Muggles suddenly doing magic. He half wanted to kick himself for mentioning Hermione as he knew Cho would hate the idea. But then again…why should he hide it? She was his best friend, the most important girl in his life (more than Cho, too, but he'd never voice that), so getting concerned for her was basically human nature for him.
So, of course, Cho's response threw him off-guard.
"Oh, she needs you? I don't think so, Harry."
"What?"
"Can't you see? She obviously wants your attention. She's just pretending to be in trouble so she can get you alone." Cho shrugged as if she was stating a fact.
Harry stared at her. " Where are you getting such bloody ideas from?"
"It doesn't matter! What matters is that none of her business is your business!"
"Of course it's my business! She's my friend! I can at least make sure she's okay."
"So you just want to leave the dance?" Cho snapped. "I've been waiting a long while for it to start again, and now that it has, you're willing to ditch me for her?!"
Harry was tempted to say, "Yes," but he restrained himself and gave a big sigh. This pointless argument was getting to him. He had to understand Cho's shortcomings, but in return, she couldn't make space to understand his?
"I'll be back."
"No, you won't." She narrowed her eyes. "I don't think you will, Harry."
He knew that every second he was wasting was adding to Hermione's turmoil. But what could he do? He couldn't just leave Cho stranded.
"I dunno what you're on…"
"It's obvious, isn't it?!" Cho shook her head. "You're obsessed with Hermione Granger!"
Her reply left him stunned. "I'm not obsessed with her! She's my best friend!"
"Really? I find that very hard to believe," Cho said, annoyed. "Your other best friend doesn't care about her, and here you are, following her every move!"
"That's not true…" But Harry trailed off. Was she right?
He turned around to find Ron and saw him locked in a dance with Lavender. His expression made it clear – Hermione was the least of his worries.
So what did that mean? Was Harry really obsessed with her? Did he care about her more than Ron ever could?
No. Maybe he hadn't seen her crying.
That seemed like a plausible explanation, but Harry was still doubtful. For one thing, Ron wasn't keeping Hermione in his field of vision since the dance started. He wasn't noticing her every move, every smile, every frown while his date was right there in front of him. Harry was.
So what did it all mean? It was so confusing that Harry feared his head might explode. Nevertheless, he still needed to check up on Hermione. Arguing with Cho was useless. She would never understand his motives.
"Look, I don't know why you're getting such ideas, but Hermione is not like that!" He declared, shouting the words because the music had become too loud around them, "She really is hurt, and I need to make sure she's alright!"
But Cho wasn't convinced. In fact, Harry was horrified to see tears welling up in her eyes.
"Fine, go ahead," she retorted with an unsteady tone, "I'm clearly not a priority to you, so don't bother!"
Okay, now she was making him angry. Anger was the worst emotion, so he thought he should just leave.
But she mumbled some words next – and they made him stop.
"What did you say?" he asked, turning around.
Instantly, her tears vanished, and a shocked expression took their place. Evidently, she didn't expect him to hear her over the blaring music and loud chatter, but he had. Clearly.
"What did you say?" he repeated, knowing all too well of the incoming danger. But this time, he wasn't backing down.
"Nothing," she murmured, panic tracing her voice.
But Harry ignored her and instead closed the distance between them. He stared directly into her almond eyes and observed a glint go through the irises. Fear. She was afraid of him.
"What did you say?" he repeated again, enunciating every word.
Maybe he looked intimidating. Scary. Dangerous. Whatever the reason was, Cho had suddenly lost it.
"I said that Mudblood is too clever for her own good!" she screamed, startling some people around them. "She's stealing you from me! She's playing games, and you're letting her win! Why are you being so stupid, Harry?!" Tears spilt from her eyes as she roughly grabbed his shirt. "Why are you falling into her traps?! Why can't you see what's right in front of you? She's a manipulator! She kept you distracted throughout our entire dance, so you'd focus on her and not me!"
"That's enough," said Harry quietly, suppressing his anger because unleashing it would be unsafe. So instead of lashing out, he pushed her hands off himself but lightly squeezed her wrist, giving her a warning.
"You dare call her a Mudblood?"
"Dare?!" Cho scoffed. "She is a Mudblood! A good-for-nothing Mudblood!"
Her audacity. Her sudden boldness in insulting his best friend right to his face snapped something inside Harry. He roughly tugged her forward until he was face to face with her.
But instead of releasing his rage, he uttered a single sentence.
"It's over between us."
Cho stared at him. "What?"
"You and me? We're done," Harry said with so much finality in his voice that Cho started stammering.
"You-you're breaking up with me?"
"Yes," Harry affirmed through gritted teeth. "I am. You may be a terrible girlfriend, Cho. Who only showed interest in me not because you care about me, but because of your own selfish reasons –"
"You're calling me selfish?! The girl you're running after is the whole deal!"
"–and a manipulator." Harry glared at her. "How ironic of you to call Hermione that when you're an expert at the same thing. You only got together with me so you could remember Cedric with the guy who witnessed his last moments. Who cares how it affects me, right? Who cares that I still get nightmares of his death? Who cares that the only thing that would keep me going is the clarity of my mind, and I can't have that with you because you're so keen to mention him all the bloody time!"
His outburst caused the impossible – Cho had gone silent.
"But hey, I've been tolerating it!" Harry gave a hollow laugh. "I've been enduring everything because for some goddamn reason, I still had the hope that you could help me with my case! But this?" He squeezed her arm again, forcing her to look at him. "This is where I draw the line. Hermione is my best friend, and I cannot stand someone insulting her. So yeah," He let go of her hand, "We're done."
Then, without waiting for her response, he turned around and brushed past students to put some distance between himself and her. His head was spinning. His heart was pounding, but he felt relaxed. Blithe. As if someone had taken heavy bricks off his shoulders.
But he still had one thing to do.
With newfound energy, he searched amongst the dancing couples and spotted him. The culprit. The root of all problems.
Theodore was holding Pansy close, his face displaying a big smile. Definitely not the face of a person who had received a big slap from his previous date and made her cry. Hatred and rage boiled inside Harry at the sight of Theodore. How he looked so unbothered and happy with Parkinson as if he hadn't just upset Hermione so intensely that she disappeared.
But Harry wouldn't face him upfront. No, he had a much better plan.
Creeping around the pillars, he found a position where nobody could see him, but he could clearly see that Slytherin couple. He took out his wand, pointed it straight at Theodore, and murmured.
"Tarantallegra."
The spell worked like a charm. Theodore didn't see it coming, but the next second, his legs started moving crazily, uncontrollably, of their own accord. Harry saw Theodore's bewildered expression as his arms started flailing, his legs almost a blur, Pansy screaming, the other couples creating distance from the jinxed boy but laughing themselves hoarse. Harry allowed himself a little laugh, too. The sight was that ridiculous, but the perfect revenge.
"Good luck dancing now," Harry smirked. Within moments, Theodore had become the laughing stock of the entire room. Pansy was so embarrassed her face was turning crimson. Before anyone could spot him and identify him as the caster, Harry sneaked outside the Great Hall undetected.
Outside, he straightened himself, a smile still lingering on his lips, and set off to find Hermione as the night fell above him.
