CHAPTER 25: TORN LOYALTIES
Harry smiled to himself as he watched Hermione walk away, a familiar warmth filling his chest. She had always been there for him, steady and unyielding through the toughest times. In truth, he couldn't imagine his life without her — she was more than a friend, more than a companion. The very thought of her not being by his side was enough to send a shiver through him. No matter how much the future held in terms of responsibilities and challenges, Hermione was the one constant he was certain of.
"She deserves the world," Harry thought, feeling a surge of determination. He would do anything to ensure she was happy, to give her everything she deserved. Together, they had faced so much, and together, they would shape the future, one where they both thrived.
Still, despite the fondness for his close friend, Harry found himself distracted, a knot of tension in his chest that needed resolving. The constant weight of responsibility was always present, but today, something else was gnawing at him — an unshakable feeling that he needed to clear his head. Returning to the quiet isolation of Malfoy Manor, to the calming presence of Narcissa, crossed his mind, but there was something else — someone else — who had been vying for his attention lately.
Hannah Abbott.
She had caught his eye more than once recently, her subtle gestures and lingering glances making it clear that she was interested in more than polite conversation. Her normally shy demeanor seemed to melt away when she was around him. Harry had noticed how her smile lingered, how her posture shifted whenever he was near. She had a way of carrying herself that seemed to demand attention, even if she wasn't fully aware of it.
Harry sighed as he recalled their most recent encounter. Hannah had always been kind-hearted and gentle, traits that drew people to her. While she wasn't as politically influential as some other pure-blood families, she came from a well-respected lineage — the Abbotts were known, after all. And though her uncle controlled most of the family's influence, Hannah had her own strengths. She wasn't as powerful magically as some of the other witches in his life, but there was something undeniably genuine about her.
"I've heard she's been learning healing from Madam Pomfrey," Harry mused. He admired that dedication, even if Hannah wasn't naturally gifted in all forms of magic. The fact that she made the effort to improve herself was admirable in its own right.
There was no denying that Hannah had been subtly asking for his attention, her behavior during their last few encounters had been...different. Harry couldn't help but notice how she carried herself, her confidence quietly growing with each passing day. She had always been friendly, but lately, there was an eagerness in her eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Maybe it's time I talk to her," he thought, his mind wandering. He could sense that she was waiting for him to make the first move, to acknowledge the growing tension between them. But how could he, when everything around him felt so uncertain?
Harry shook his head. He wasn't one to make impulsive decisions, especially when it involved the people he cared about. Relationships, whether they were friendships or more, were complicated, and Harry had always struggled with navigating those complexities. Still, there was a part of him that wondered what a conversation with Hannah might lead to. Perhaps it was time to address the unspoken thoughts that lingered between them.
With a sigh, Harry decided that he would seek her out, if only to clear the air. He had always believed in honesty, and it was better to face things head-on rather than let them fester. After all, the last thing he wanted was to leave anything unresolved.
As he walked down the corridor, his mind was filled with thoughts of Hermione, of Hannah, and of everything else that lay ahead. One thing was clear: life was complicated, but he was ready to face it.
For Hannah Abbott, her presence had always revolved around her appearance—her soft curves, the generous shape of her figure, and the kind of alluring beauty that turned heads. It wasn't just about her; there was more to her significance. Her close friendship with Susan Bones made her a key connection. Susan was the true prize, indispensable to the intricate web Harry was building. And if he had to reach Susan through Hannah, it only made Hannah's role in his life even clearer.
Even without the Marauder's Map, Harry knew exactly where the Hufflepuff common room was. Tom Riddle had known it too. He'd once had a fleeting relationship with a girl from there, though his interest had always been in Hogwarts' secrets rather than any affection. Tom had scoured the common room, hoping to find hidden knowledge or relics of the founders, only to leave disappointed. However, tonight, Harry knew something far more interesting awaited him—a blonde with a hopeful heart and her own secret desire.
As he approached the familiar area near the kitchens, Harry tapped out the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff's name on one of the wooden barrels. The lid creaked open with a low groan, and Harry slipped inside, emerging into the warmth of the Hufflepuff common room. The glow from the fireplace flickered gently, casting shadows over the comfortable, rounded furniture. The plants lining the walls swayed softly in the slight draft, filling the room with the earthy scent of fresh herbs and flowers, courtesy of Professor Sprout's personal touch.
It was a cosy, homey place—far different from the cold stone of the dungeons or the towering elegance of the Gryffindor tower. The soft hum of nature seemed to soothe the atmosphere, but Harry wasn't here to appreciate the décor.
He crossed the room quietly, his movements masked by the soft crackle of the fire, and glanced toward the circular wooden doors leading to the dormitories. They reminded him of something—those tunnels at the beginning of The Hobbit, a book Dudley had been assigned for school but never read, leaving it discarded in his room. Harry had devoured it, fascinated by the idea of a magical ring that could make its wearer invisible. More efficient than the cloak, he mused, already thinking about how such an artifact could be replicated if he ever had the time.
His thoughts snapped back to the present as he approached the dormitory door that the Map had told him belonged to Susan and Hannah. He could hear raised voices from the other side, muffled but unmistakably arguing.
Curious now, Harry made sure the Invisibility Cloak fully concealed him and carefully eased the door open just enough to slip through, silent as a shadow.
Inside the dimly lit room, Hannah and Susan stood facing each other, tension clear in their body language.
"I'm telling you, Susan, it's not just a phase!" Hannah's voice quivered with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "You've seen the way he looks at me. I think he feels the same, and I'm... I'm not just imagining it."
Susan crossed her arms, her expression skeptical but not entirely unsympathetic. "Hannah, this is Harry Potter we're talking about. He's not... he's not the kind of person who just falls for anyone. You have to be careful. You don't know what's going on with him."
Hannah's shoulders sagged, the weight of her unspoken fears pulling her down. "Maybe I don't know everything about him, but I know what I feel. And if there's even a chance... I have to try, Susan."
Harry remained still, absorbing every word. Hannah's vulnerability, her uncertainty—it painted a picture of her that was far more complex than he had anticipated. She wasn't just a pawn in his game; she had her own desires, her own stakes in this.
As the conversation continued, Harry edged closer, taking in Susan's response.
"I just don't want you to get hurt," Susan said, her voice softening. "You're my best friend, Hannah. I don't want to see you chase something that might never be real."
Hannah smiled weakly, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "I know. But sometimes, you have to take risks, right? Besides... it's Harry. How could I not?"
Susan sighed, clearly torn between her protective instincts and her desire to support her friend. "Just promise me you'll be careful. Please?"
"I will. I promise," Hannah whispered, her eyes glinting with a mixture of hope and determination.
Harry watched, feeling the weight of their conversation. It wasn't often that he witnessed such raw emotion, and he found himself unexpectedly captivated by the undercurrents of fear, hope, and rivalry. Hannah wasn't just another girl; she had her own thoughts, her own desires, and her decisions might influence everything. With a final glance, he slipped out of the room as silently as he had entered, thoughts swirling in his mind as he left the dormitory behind.
"It's me he's after! Why can't you see that?" Susan's voice cut through the stillness, trembling with frustration. She tugged nervously at the hem of her long white t-shirt, her expression a mixture of disbelief and exasperation.
"No, it's not!" Hannah stomped her foot, her voice rising in defiance. Her satin nightgown shimmered in the dim light as she moved, the fabric barely containing her emotions—and her body. "Just because you're Susan Bones doesn't mean you know everything, or that you're the one he's after. You didn't see the way he looked at me!" Her voice cracked with both anger and the vulnerability she was trying to hide.
"Hannah, listen to me," Susan began, taking a deep breath as if steadying herself. "I'm not saying Harry's a bad person. And I'm not denying he might be attracted to you. But he's not just Harry Potter anymore—he's Lord Potter. He's strategic, he has responsibilities, and he needs allies. Marrying into the Bones family would give him power, influence—everything that comes with an ancient Pureblood name. This isn't just about desire. It's about politics. He's after me because of that."
Susan's voice softened, though her eyes remained sharp, calculating. "We've been taught since birth that our families, our titles, they're everything. Professor Sprout, our parents—they've all drilled it into us. We have to be careful. We can't afford to give up too much. We need to keep our leverage, our choices, our... our worth, so we can marry well. It's the difference between securing our future or risking our families' legacies."
Hannah scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, her face flushed with indignation. "So, because of that, you think Harry couldn't possibly like me for who I am? For my mind, my body?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous. You think he only wants you."
Susan exhaled a long, frustrated breath, running her fingers through her hair. "Jealous of what, exactly?"
"Maybe the fact that my tits are bigger." Hannah shot back, her eyes narrowing.
Susan's gaze hardened. "This isn't about that, Hannah. Harry wants a Pureblood to continue the Potter line. He's the last of his family. Do you honestly think he'll choose you as Lady Potter? No offense, but you're not—"
"Not what?" Hannah snapped, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. "Good enough? Not as important as you? I'm more than just your friend, Susan. I'm more than just 'the girl who stands next to you.' Everyone sees you as the perfect, proper Susan Bones, and I'm just the girl with the big tits. But Harry doesn't see me like that. He sees me. He actually sees me."
Susan's expression twisted into something almost cruel, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "You think he sees you as more? You've barely spoken to him, Han! Do you know what he offered me after that night? After you ran away?" She stepped forward, her voice lowering with a venomous edge. "He offered me Lady Potter, Hannah. He promised me things you can only dream of."
"Stop lying!" Hannah cried out, her voice trembling as she wiped furiously at her tear-streaked face. "He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't."
"Oh, but he did." Susan's voice was cold now, her eyes fixed on Hannah. "You're fooling yourself if you think he cares about you like that. This isn't a fairy tale, Hannah. This is the real world, and in the real world, men like Harry Potter don't make those kinds of promises to girls like us for nothing."
Hannah shook her head, her tears falling freely now. "I don't believe you. I won't."
But as the words left her mouth, doubt flickered in her eyes. It was a small crack in her resolve, but it was enough for Susan to see.
"You don't have to believe me," Susan said quietly, her tone softening, but the edge remained. "Just... don't let your heart lead you into something that could destroy you. We need to be smart about this. Both of us."
Hannah stood there, silent, her chest heaving as she fought back her emotions. The firelight cast flickering shadows across her face, revealing the battle between her heart and her mind. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I just... I want to believe that someone can see me for more than what you do."
Susan didn't respond. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the unspoken truth that hung in the air. Neither girl moved, both too wrapped in their own thoughts, their own fears.
"Believe what you want," Susan sniffed, her voice tight with restrained anger. "I was just trying to protect your honor, as a friend. But don't worry, when he's had his fill of you, when he's tossed you aside like yesterday's trash, maybe you can find work in Knockturn Alley for a galleon a night. I'll make sure to throw a few sickles your way when I'm Lady Potter—"
Hannah's scream tore through the room as she whipped her wand in fury, casting a Banishing Charm at Susan. But Susan was faster, stepping gracefully to the side, the spell missing her by inches. With a quick flick of her own wand, she easily Disarmed the blonde, Hannah's wand soaring through the air into Susan's waiting hand.
"Don't be stupid, Han." Susan's voice was cold but not unkind as she tossed the wand back. "I'm still your friend, and I always will be. But you need to see things for what they are. Go to bed, get some sleep. In the morning, you'll understand I'm right."
Hannah stood frozen, her chest heaving as tears streamed down her flushed face. Her hands trembled as she clutched her wand to her chest. For a moment, it seemed like she might retaliate again, but then her shoulders slumped in defeat. Without another word, she threw herself onto her bed, yanking the yellow curtains closed with a sharp tug. Moments later, her sobs fell silent—a telltale sign of a Silencing Charm.
Susan remained where she stood, staring at the closed curtains, her face crumpling for just a moment before she took a deep breath. Her mask of composure returned as she retreated to her own bed. With a whispered incantation, she cast her own Silencing Charm around her space, sealing herself off from the turmoil that filled the room.
Harry, still invisible beneath his cloak, stood motionless for a moment, digesting the scene that had just unfolded. He hadn't anticipated this level of intensity. A fight between two future members of his harem, no doubt—but not like this. Susan was sharper than he had given her credit for. She saw through him with surprising clarity, recognizing the game he was playing and protecting herself accordingly. Her refusal to give in so easily meant she would be a difficult target—one that required patience and careful planning.
But the evening had still given him something valuable.
Hannah's outburst had exposed her vulnerabilities. Susan, in her harshness, had practically handed Hannah to him on a silver platter—emotionally fragile, hurt, and desperately seeking validation. Isolating her from Susan would only drive a wedge between the two, weakening Susan's position. It was a move Harry knew he had to make.
Carefully, he canceled the protective charms on Hannah's curtains with a subtle flick of his wand, slipping inside her bed unnoticed. The space was surprisingly large—Hannah must have enlarged the bed magically. It didn't surprise him; Professor Sprout was known to be lenient with her students. He could see Hannah curled up tightly, her body trembling as she cried softly, even beneath the Silencing Charm. She was clutching her pillow like it was the only thing tethering her to reality.
Harry moved closer, his presence quiet and deliberate. He knew he had to act quickly before Hannah could regain any sense of composure or distance. The moment was fragile, and he needed to use it to his advantage. Every piece of this was part of the puzzle—each one pushing him closer to achieving his goals.
But he wasn't just thinking about what he would say or do next. He was already considering how this would affect Susan—how taking Hannah from her, emotionally and physically, would leave her more isolated, more vulnerable, and ultimately more susceptible to his plans.
For now, though, his focus was on the girl in front of him—the one who had been abandoned by her friend and was now on the verge of breaking.
For now, though, his focus was on the girl in front of him—the one who had been abandoned by her friend and was now on the verge of breaking.
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