Chapter 15: An Apology

Harry

Harry leaned back in the chair he currently occupied, the back not giving way as he would have liked. Instead it was hard against his back, almost forcing him into good posture. It wasn't exactly what he was looking for at the moment. He would have much preferred to recline backwards, sinking into the chair to release any strain on his mind, along with the long sigh that escaped his lips. Unfortunately, the chairs that littered the library were of the stiff variety.

He had been sitting there for… two hours? Harry had truthfully lost track of time. At least he was able to give his eyes some relief from straining at the parchment that happened to be his homework, lying next to an open book on the wooden table. He removed the glasses from his nose, setting them cautiously on the table and brought his hands up to rub at his poor eyes.

Ever since his fateful banning from Quidditch, he's - well he's had much more time on his hands. Harry had been trying to use that extra time productively, oftentimes attempting to finish his homework early to give himself enough time for extra training on the side. The thought was good, and Hermione had voiced her pleasure at his plan. The only problem was… actually doing it.

He had been forcing himself into the library lately, hopeful that the atmosphere would ignite his motivation and he could breeze through it. There was no such luck. The last time, he had only made it halfway through his charms essay before he pulled the plug, the one he had just finished up after another two hours of work.

He had decided to spend his Saturday morning in the library, just like any sane, magic-wielding teenager would. Ron mentioned that he would have been glad to join him, if Quidditch practice didn't land on that exact time slot. Harry doubted Ron would willingly join him in the library for a few hours, but still, his presence would have made it much more bearable; would have been much more distracting too.

Hermione had also apologetically notified him that she couldn't keep him company. She had needed to track down one of her classmates from ancient runes or something, one of her advanced classes that Harry had no business taking. She had wished him luck and sped off down the hallway, her determination present in each step. So, that left Harry alone in the library to struggle through his assigned homework.

He opened his eyes once again, finding the recently finished charms essay. It probably wasn't his best work, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care too much at the moment. Sighing, he reached for the parchment, placing it to the side before reaching for another blank piece and settling it in front of him. He gave another sigh, glancing at the open charms book. Having finished his assigned work for the class, he closed it, maybe too eagerly. Harry cringed as the textbook slammed shut with a dull thud that echoed through the quiet room. The noise was met by the ever predictable shhh! from Madam Pince and a few stray giggles. Harry raised his hand in a silent apology to the librarian before reaching for the next required text.

He took a deep breath and gathered himself, the need to finish outweighing his desire for freedom at the moment. He blacked, however, when he realized that the next book up was potions. He had to make sure he took care with this one, Snape's work was not something you wanted to screw up on. Lest you hear about it for the remainder of your stay in Hogwarts. Still, it needed to get done. So, Harry steeled himself and slowly opened the textbook to the appropriate page, hoping that the assignment would somehow just disappear.

"Rough time?"

Harry startled, whipping his head around to the direction of the voice. He let out a deep breath and placed a hand on his heart when he recognized the brown hair and tight lipped smile that belonged to Tracey Davis. He had not been expecting anyone in the slightest. Somehow, he managed to bottle in his yelp of surprise. Tracey cradled a few books in her arms which she had most likely just picked up before startling him half to death.

"Been here for two hours, I reckon."

The books that he had spotted in Tracey's arms were suddenly on the table in front of him, and the Slytherin had entered his view. "Want some company?" She pulled out a chair, lowering herself into the seat without waiting for an answer.

Harry didn't have any protest, and she must have known that. His goal was to finish his homework completely, and knowing how much Tracey enjoyed a nice bout of small talk, Harry was sure she would not be helping him achieve his goal. He rolled through one excuse after another in his head, none of them good enough to not be considered rude in Harry's opinion, so he ended up settling for a small grunt as she settled into her chair, merely accepting her presence.

However, the more he thought about it, the less enthused he was to be scribbling on parchment for that dreadful class and he actually began to welcome the distraction that the Slytherin brought. Pondering a topic to begin a conversation was his next priority, setting aside his dreaded homework in favor of the topic he had decided on, one that was particularly interesting to him from Tracey's point of view.

"What did you think of the first meeting?"

Tracey paused, her hand that had been rummaging around her bag frozen. She slowly leaned back, casting her gaze around the bookcases that surrounded them. She then leaned forward, repeating the process. Harry just watched her paranoid movements with an eyebrow raised over his glasses.

"I was under the impression we weren't supposed to talk about that in public." Tracey whispered across the table, still leaned forward in her seat.

Harry leaned forwards as well, matching her posture over the table that separated them. "There's nobody here." He whispered back.

Tracey returned to her normal posture, gesturing in the direction of the voices that quietly drifted towards them from the other occupants of the library with a question in her eyes. "They won't hear us." Harry attempted to ease her doubts.

"If you insist." Tracey shrugged. "You make the rules."

"I mean… Hermione sort of makes the rules." Harry told her. Hermione had been the one to set up the whole club, even drafting a set of ground rules that would ensure they remained undetected for as long as possible. He could have possibly been teetering on the edge of those rules in the library, technically it was a public space. But, if nobody heard them, what difference did it make?

"I thought-" Tracey began to say, before thinking better of it and waving the thought away with her free hand. "Either way, it's not my decision. As long as I don't get thrown out."

"You won't." He reassured her. "Just answer the question."

She pursed her lips, still weighing the merits of answering his question versus the possibility of exposure. She ultimately decided to trust Harry. It was his show, after all. "I enjoyed it." She began. "Everyone else seemed to as well; except for that Zacharius kid, who invited him?"

"Yeah, he's uh…" Harry rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. "He's opinionated."

"You don't say." The Hufflepuff has made his thoughts abundantly clear on any topic of conversation throughout the night. "Anyway, I'm sure some thought it beneath them, but it's always good to get practice in with the basics. I'm sure you helped most everyone with their casting - I know you helped me."

"I was just reminding them of things they already knew."

"Well I know one thing, Harry." Tracey quickly said after he finished. "Daphne and I have been practicing in some abandoned classrooms since then, and my casting has noticeably improved."

"Glad I could help." Harry replied when she sent a small smile his way. It was good to hear some confirmation that he was making a difference, at least somewhat. That was one thing he could do to help counteract the incoming tide of darkness that threatened them all. The longer Harry thought about it, the more glad he was that he did not voice that last thought that ran through his head. It was a bit dramatic. "Were you and Daphne okay? During the meeting, that is."

"How do you mean?"

"I heard some remarks about the two of you, when I was walking around. Didn't know if you heard them."

"Why?" Tracey questioned, a wicked smirk forming on her lips. "Fancy Daphne or something?"

Harry felt his cheeks heat up immediately following her question. Sure, Daphne was beautiful, but her personality certainly wasn't his… type. His mind was blank as he struggled to formulate a response to Tracey's unexpected inquiry, mouth opening and closing in his best impression of the most common of fish. He only relaxed when he looked back to the Slytherin girl, with her hand covering her mouth. Cheeks red with the effort of holding back her laughter and shoulders shaking slightly with her rapid breaths. Apparently his expression was hilarious to her, because she couldn't hold in her mirth any longer. She dropped her hand and let out a quick, high pitched bark of laughter before she widened her eyes and slapped her hand back over her mouth. A distant shhh! drifted from the far end of the library and Tracey finished her laughter with a few soft chuckles.

"You done?" Tracey only answered him with a slight nod and a smile. "It's not that, it's just… I want everyone to feel like they belong."

"Daphne and I, we've faced much worse than snide comments under the breath of teenagers part of a secret defense club. We'll survive." Tracey explained to him with confidence. "That was a nice speech though, to be honest."

"Thanks." Satisfied with her answer, he brought the parchment back before him, situating it to be near his writing hand. He fully intended to get back to his work, determined to complete his original reason for coming to the library. Until, however, Tracey interrupted him once again.

"No, Harry. Thank you." Harry looked up again, confusion apparent on his face. "For what you're doing for us, Daphne and I that is. You didn't have to let us in on your secret club, but it's appreciated nonetheless."

"You sure Daphne appreciates it?" Harry asked, having observed the girl's attitude that night.

Tracey let out an audible breath through her nose. "I'm sure. It's hard to tell with her, but she does. Daphne hasn't had… well her home life isn't…" she waved off her train of thought and the melancholy expression that was invading her usually bright features. "Anyway, just know she does, even if it doesn't look like it."

Harry shrugged, not willing to pry for more details into the private Slytherin's life. Even if he really wanted to, he hadn't had the best home life with his relatives either. Maybe they had similar experiences. Even if he doubted that she slept in the cupboard under the stairs for the first eleven years of her life. "Not a problem. It was Percy's suggestion anyway, honestly."

Tracey stared at him, and Harry could tell she wanted him to elaborate further. "I went down to his cabin the day after you approached me at breakfast, I was intending to bring that up. Instead, it was the first thing out of his mouth, and I agreed. He made good points with his argument. Not that I was going to say 'no' either."

"Must have been awfully convincing." Tracey quipped.

"Where do you think I got most of my speech from?" Harry smirked right back across the table.

It took a moment for Tracey to say anything after that. A moment that Harry took to once again pick up his quill. "You call Professor Jackson 'Percy'." It was a statement, not a question, and Harry nodded at her observation. "You must know him well, then."

"Sort of." Harry answered truthfully. "More than anyone else here, I reckon."

"In that case, I have a question." Harry paused, dropping the quill back onto the parchment where it lay moments before. He raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue. She interpreted his look the correct way, and she opened her mouth to inquire as to what was on her mind.

"Professor Jackson is from America, correct?"

"Yes…" Harry answered hesitantly, unsure of where she was going with her questioning.

"Was he a Professor there, too? Or did he have another job?"

"Not sure. Haven't known him for long." Harry hadn't really. They had only met when Harry was sprung from his relatives and swept away to Grimmauld Place. Wasn't too long ago that he watched Percy waltz into the dining room of the dreary house with what seemed not a care in the world. Though he certainly felt more close with Percy than that, despite only knowing him for such a short time. "Why?"

"Well, when he was speaking at the meeting, it felt different than one of his classes." Tracey said. "I've been in plenty of them. But, when he was up in front of everyone speaking, I didn't hear a single whisper from anyone. And I know there are at least a couple pranksters in there who would gladly interrupt a Professor for a few laughs."

"What're you saying?"

"I don't know… this might sound weird but…" Tracey said, suddenly unsure of herself. "He almost seemed… more, I guess." When Harry failed to form a response right away, she shook her head. "You know what, nevermind."

"No, no. I understand." Harry said before they could completely move on from the topic. "Like he's more than just a wizard, yeah?"

"Exactly." Tracey pointed at him from her seat. "Reminds me of a character from one of those fantasy novels or something."

"I've wondered that too, ya know." Harry crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, slightly hunching into a more comfortable position. If Hermione were there, she would certainly scold him for his poor posture. "What he did in the states, that is. Didn't reckon he'd be teaching at Hogwarts when I first met him, though he is quite good at it."

"One of the best Professors I've had." Tracey admitted with a shrug. "Have you ever asked him?"

"'Course not." Harry exclaimed, as if her suggestion was beyond the realm of possibility. "Percy is the only one who actually treats me like an adult, like I can handle things. Everyone else just tries to shelter me and treats me like a baby. It feels like he's the only one who actually believes in me!" Harry hadn't realized he had been getting slightly worked up until he was done and his breathing was slightly labored. He met Tracey's eyes sheepishly. She probably had no idea what he was on about.

"Harry," she said softly. "I'm not going to pretend I know what that was about, but I can tell it means a great deal to you."

"I just," Harry tried to find the words to explain, ultimately failing. He settled for a sigh instead. "I don't want to pry and lose his trust, ya know?"

Tracey shrugged in lieu of a verbal response. Harry would've liked some advice honestly. He was quite curious about Percy's life before they met, but he couldn't risk the only person who didn't try to keep him in the dark. Well, Sirius hasn't actively tried, but Percy has told him much more about what was actually happening. He needed to be prepared, and it seemed Percy was the only one who understood that and took steps to help him.

"Hey." Tracey leaned over and smacked him lightly on the arm, breaking Harry out of his trance. "Maybe he's like a god or something. Reincarnation of Merlin." She joked, returning to her seat.

"Good one, Tracey." Harry snorted. "But, I don't reckon that's the answer."

She sighed as her joking smile fell slightly. "Let me have my fantasies, alright Harry. Anyway, I came here to finish my homework." Tracey opened the textbook she had removed from her bag, along with a quill and parchment. "So, stop distracting me."

Harry let out an indignant huff and threw his hands up. The quill clattered to the floor when it was thrown from his hand. Tracey was the one who first came over and distracted him. He was the one who wanted to get his homework done in the first place! He let out a deep breath, deciding to let the matter go, it wasn't worth it. He retrieved the quill from the floor, intent on getting a move on once again. He glanced at Tracey, who had opened a familiar looking book on the table, to a familiar looking page.

"Is that the potions?" He asked.

She nodded in response, affirming his suspicion. "Want to work on it together?"

"Please." He was never fond of the subject and would never decline any help with the work. Especially when it was Snape that was the one who decided what marks to give.

"Good." She said simply and slid the book, her parchment and herself around the table till the two ended up next to each other. "I've no clue what I'm doing."


"So, you're saying that a bezoar can cure nearly anything? And it comes from a goat stomach?" Tracey asked, cringing when she mentioned the location for retrieving the item in question.

"Well, not everything." Harry replied. "Cures most poisons but that's it."

"How do you know that?"

"Dunno. Think it was covered last year."

"I don't remember that a bit." She shook her head ever so slightly, releasing a sigh. "I can't learn anything in that bloody class. His teaching style is horrendous."

"I can't argue-" Harry was cut off by a faint shuffling of feet entering the area surrounding the table they had been working on. Harry paused his work, noticing Tracey do the same, and rapidly moving his gaze upwards, focusing on the new arrival.

The first thing he noticed was the flaming red hair that had become one of the larger parts of his life since he had entered the wizarding world. The freckles that littered his familiar face led to the long, lanky limbs that belonged to his best friend.

He stood there, shoulders slightly hunched in a posture Hermione had chided him over many times, feet shuffling awkwardly as he eyes shifted between the floor and the pair doing schoolwork.

"Oh." Tracey mumbled and Harry saw her move to close her book, the noise reverberating in the emptiness of the awkward silence. "I'll just, uh… go." She quickly cleaned her space, placing her items back into her bag and hauling it over her shoulder with some effort.

"No." Ron's abnormally timid voice stopped Tracey as she had begun to rise from her chair, scraping the floor. "You can stay. I-If you want, that is."

Harry saw Tracey slightly narrow her eyes, but she went along with it. Slowly, deliberately she sank back down into the chair. She didn't unpack her things, instead preferring to stare at the redhead, waiting on him to say something, anything. Ron, for his part, continued to silently stand there, shifting his weight from foot to foot. You could cut the tension with a knife.

Harry, unable to stand the awkwardness any longer, spoke up before he suffocated. "What do you need, Ron?"

"Well, it's time for dinner." He scratched the hair atop his head, leaving a messy patch. "Finished practice a while ago, didn't know where you were." Tracey's eyes widened and Harry felt the same emotion cross his face. He hadn't realized how much time they had spent working on the potions. Not quite believing it, he glanced out the window to see the Sun quickly retreating behind the mountains, casting a beautiful sunset across the sky.

"Ran into Katie while I was searching," Ron continued, drawing him away from the window. "mentioned she saw you in here. Didn't seem happy though, quite annoyed actually. Wonder what happened…" Ron mused, rubbing his chin. "Anyway, here I am."

Tracey stood quickly once Ron finished his tale, slinging the bag over her shoulder once again. "Ladies." Her chair scraped across the floor as it was pushed in under the table. "As much as I would love to stay and chat, I didn't realize how late it was." She feigned looking at her wrist for a non-existent watch. She took a few urgent steps, her bag bouncing slightly against her shoulder, before Ron stopped her once more in her tracks as she was about to pass him.

"Wait." He held his hand out to impede her progress. "I j-just wanted to…" he took a deep breath, shoulder rising and falling with the motion. "I just wanted to apologize." Whatever Harry expected to come out of his mouth, it wasn't that. Tracey seemed equally surprised.

"For what?"

"How I've acted towards you and Daphne, I suppose." He said, still talking as if he were walking on eggshells. "I figured you were all like Malfoy, and I- I was wrong."

Another pregnant pause followed, Tracey and Ron's eyes locked on each other. Harry's eyes darted between the two, waiting for someone to break the silence and alleviate him of the awkward pressure. It was Tracey who spoke next.

"Well, it wasn't really anything we couldn't handle." Ron opened his mouth, before snapping it shut once Tracey spoke again. "Still, apology accepted. Thank you." She nodded to him, and he returned the gesture. "However, I didn't realize it was so late and I have to find Daphne."

"We're nearly done, though."

"I know, but I really do have to go. Sorry." She shuffled around the table towards where Ron stood unmoving. Before she left the area, she turned back around, facing Harry who remained seated.

"See you around, Harry." She spun her head to his best friend. "Weasley." She gave him a small, quick nod before retreating towards the opening in the bookshelves that surrounded the table. She was stopped once again by the boy who she passed, and as she turned around Harry could see the annoyance in her features.

"My name is Ron." Tracey stared him down with a raised eyebrow for a moment, searching his face. She narrowed her eyes slightly and furrowed her eyebrows before opening her mouth.

"We'll start with baby steps, alright." She backed around the bookcase and out of the sight line of the two boys.

Ron watched her disappear before he turned to Harry. He shrugged and pulled out a chair across the table from where Harry's work was laid out. "Proud of you, mate."

His friend released a long sigh, shaking his head. "Good, 'cause it was bloody tough."

"I could tell." Harry gestured towards where Tracey had disappeared. "It's hard admitting you're wrong."

"You're tellin' me."

Harry returned to his work as Ron settled into the chair, twirling his thumbs as he stared out the window that was closest to them. Harry dipped his quill in the inkwell and was able to write a few more lines on the parchment before placing the quill back on the table and leaning back in his chair.

"You know." Harry began, catching Ron's attention from the window. "I'm happy you're willing to admit you're wrong, it takes courage."

"I was sorted into Gryffindor. Had to have been for a reason, right?"

"Couldn't tell ya." Harry smirked. Ron's fake laugh was accompanied by a relieved smile. "The more people who look past the surface, the better. People aren't inherently evil because of their circumstances, took me a while to see that too."

"I'm trying my best, mate."

"I know," Harry smiled at him. "If we're going to make it through this, we can't be turning away good allies because they were sorted into the wrong house."

"I understand where you're coming from." Ron admitted, bobbing his head. "Greengrass and Davis aren't that bad, I suppose."

Harry rolled his eyes, smiling nonetheless. He couldn't expect radical change overnight, of course. And he was grateful his best friend had begun to come around. "I wish more people did. Expected Katie would, but she's always… different when they're around."

"You have to give them time, mate." Ron reasoned. "It's been that way for years. Can't just get rid of that with a spell."

"Weasley's right." Tracey's voice called back as she rounded the book corner and returned to their private area. "Forgot my book." She pointed to a spot under the table next to Harry, answering the question on the lips of the two before it could be asked. Harry watched her bend down and retrieve a textbook from under the chair she had previously occupied.

She rose and tracked back to the entrance, stopping in her tracks as she reached the bookshelf, spinning around and holding up a finger in preparation of what Harry assumed was to make a point. "For the record, Katie Bell does not have a problem with Slytherins."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked immediately. He had seen her attitude change on a dime multiple times whenever they showed their face. "She's always closed off when you guys show up. Like she doesn't want to be around you."

"That's true." Tracey admitted. "But she doesn't have a problem with all Slytherins, she's just not a fan of me." She pointed at herself. "She's fine with Daphne, I've seen it myself."

"Why would she not like you?" Harry asked incredulously. He didn't understand why Katie would take issue with Tracey. She was hardly a bad person and had always treated him nicely and respectfully.

"It's…" she paused, searching her brain for the right words. "… because we're friendly, Harry."

"But, I don't understand." Harry placed his hands flat on the table after wiping them down his face. "I'm not friendly with Daphne. Why wouldn't Katie have a problem with her?"

"That's the point."

"What does that mean!" Harry whisper-yelled, cognizant of his surroundings. He looked to Ron for assistance, but the redhead seemed just as lost as he felt.

Tracey let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose and looked towards the ceiling. 'Boys…'

"You're just going to have to figure that out, Harry." Tracey said in parting as she made her leave around the bookcase, leaving Harry and Ron frozen in place. "I could be wrong, but… that doesn't happen often." She disappeared.

"Do you…"

"Honestly," Ron cut him off. "Let's just go to dinner, mate."

"Yeah…" Harry agreed as his stomach let its preference known with a small gurgle at the mention of food. "You're right." He quickly gathered his things, packing them away in his bag that was charmed to hold more than should be possible. He completed a checklist in his head, making sure he had gathered all of his things, and stood up from the place he had been sitting for hours. His joints popped and creaked as he stretched his arms above his head and groaned.

"How long have you been here?" Ron asked, making a face at the noises his body was emitting.

"Too long."

"I can see that, mate." Ron slapped his hand on Harry's shoulder as he reached where he stood. "Now let's get some food, I'm starved."

"You're always starved." Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm a growing boy, aren't I? Maybe you should eat a little more, you're still scrawny."

"Now you sound like your mother."

Ron shrugged and smiled. "My mum knows what she's talking about."

Harry smiled and laughed as they walked away from the table, around the bookcases and started a route towards the Great Hall.


It was even later than Harry had anticipated, even after Ron had told him that he had missed the beginning of Dinner. The two had made a grand entrance in the Great Hall, striding in with only a portion of the student body remaining. Most of them had left after having their fill, vacating the wooden tables in favor of their comfortable and cozy common rooms.

Harry and Ron had sat at the end of the Gryffindor table that had been mostly vacated; only a few students remained, mostly from the younger years. Harry scanned the table for Hermione, he hadn't seen his other best friend all day. But, her face didn't stick out to him. Perhaps she had arrived earlier, and without the presence of Harry or Ron, quickly ate and left to focus on some academic pursuit.

They had eaten in silence, their uncooperative stomachs demanding immediate sustenance.

"Can you pass the gravy?" Ron asked, after swallowing a mouthful thickly. Harry finished what little remained on his plate and handed his friend the plaster dish. He was able to hold in his curiosity until Ron had scarfed down his food, but not much longer than that.

"Ron?" His head whipped up and he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "What made you change your mind?"

"Honestly, mate." He leaned back away from the table. "It's been something I've been thinking on for a while now. Was just trying to work up the courage. They've never done anything to you from what I've seen, and you're friendly with 'em. Took some time to see past all that prick Malfoy has done, but I thought if you can get past it, so can I. Speech at the meeting was wicked, too."

Harry exhaled through his nose in amusement. "Took most of the speech from Percy, honestly." At the mention of the Professor, Ron's face fell. It wasn't the usual annoyance, however, it was something different.

"I also wanted to apologize to you." He raised his gaze from the table to meet Harry.

"For what?"

"I feel like we've drifted apart some, and that's my fault." He placed his open palm on his chest. "I was jealous of Percy, how much you've come to rely on him for things. I felt like you and Hermione were replacing me."

"Ron, that's not-"

"I know that now. But at the time, I let my jealousy get the better of me, again. I felt alone, and it was my fault, again." Ron held up a hand to stop Harry's interruption. "I did the same thing last year with the tournament by jumping to conclusions. I realize how much Percy has done for us - for you. And it's more than I could ever do."

"Ron, that's just not true. You might not be able to help in the same ways as Percy, but that doesn't make your help any less valuable."

"How can I compete with what he does?" Ron asked, apparently thinking there was no answer as he dropped his head.

"You keep me grounded, Ron. You keep my spirits up and I know you'll always have my back, even if we're not on the best terms." Harry explained. "Sure, you can be jealous, stubborn and an idiot sometimes-" Ron chuckled at that. "But you're also loyal, funny, and you gave me a family when I never had one. And that is what makes you my best friend." Harry took a deep breath after he finished and watched Ron's head rise again, much more proudly this time. He nodded enthusiastically.

"So, we're alright?"

"We're good." Harry smiled at him. "Even though you had nothing to apologize for."

"I'm with you from here on out, mate. No matter what." Ron stated with conviction. "And I'm working on the whole jealousy thing."

"Good, because it does cause problems sometimes." Harry joked, feeling his best friend return to what he remembered.

"You're right about that." Ron scratched the back of his head. "You're gettin' bloody good at speeches, by the way."

"Not the worst." Harry stood, Ron following his movement. "Now, I'm stuffed. Let's head back to the tower, I want to finish my work."

"'Mione'd be proud." Ron threw his arm over Harry's shoulder as they exited the Great Hall, doors slamming shut behind them.

"I don't think she'd believe it."

"Well, that means I have to wait for the last minute then." Ron said with a sigh.

"Why is that?"

"If we both finished our work early, 'Mione would have a heart attack!" Ron joked, and Harry laughed harder than he'd laughed in a long time. To be honest, Harry had felt them drifting apart as well. He didn't blame Ron, he just had more important things to focus on for a while.

But walking down the corridors, joking with him, Harry felt more relaxed than he could remember. Hermione wouldn't admit it, but Ron was really the heart of their little trio, and Harry had felt his absence. It warmed Harry's heart that Ron was willing to loosen up a bit and start to shift his views that had once been set in stone, it would make things so much smoother going forward.

Harry was on great terms with his best friend once again. Even though he knew it wouldn't last, Harry felt that everything was right in the world again, and he could move on with his life. It's unfortunate he was all too accurate about the short term status of his good feeling.