Friendship often ends in love; but love in friendship - never.*
Disclaimer: I owe it all to the almighty JK Rowling.
7. Trial and Error
During the next few days, Harry tried to act as normal as possible. He hadn’t told anyone about his scar, and he liked it that way. No-one made a fuss, although he occasionally caught Hermione looking at him questioningly, almost worriedly. But whenever she realised that Harry was watching, she always looked hastily away again.
Harry decided to push it to the back of his mind. It hadn’t happened again after that night, and everything was just too calm and happy to be ruined.
Ron and Hermione’s strange behaviour towards each other had continued into the first days of term, and both Ginny and Harry were determined to discover what had truly happened on the night of the party. They hatched a plan.
“Right,” announced Ginny in low voice, “now I know they’re hiding something, so I’ve decided what we’re going to do in order to find out exactly what it is.”
They were sat in the library together on the third day back, Harry finishing his Herbology essay, Ginny filling out her unfinished star chart. Ron had already gone to lunch, and Hermione was sitting just a few tables away from them, her head in her hands.
“Why do you get to decide what we do?” Harry said, grinning.
“Do you have any better ideas?” she replied, flashing him a sarcastic smile, but winking all the same.
“Ooh, I don’t want to get on the wrong side of you,” laughed Harry.
Ginny raised her eyebrows teasingly, and then continued, “Look, over there. Hermione’s all alone on that table. I’m going to go and talk to her, maybe persuade her into a heart-to-heart. Meanwhile, you are going to find my brother and chat casually about the night of the party. Start with something unrelated to their ‘incident’, let’s call it, and then work from there. Ok?”
“Um, yeah I think so…but what if it doesn’t work? What do I say then?”
“Act normally of course, as though you weren’t trying to get anything out of him,” Ginny said in an exasperated voice.
“Then what’s the point of this?” asked Harry incredulously.
“It’s called trial and error,” replied Ginny simply. “Do you want to find out or not?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well then, what’s the problem?”
“Right,” said Harry through gritted teeth, getting up from the table and putting his books away. “Trial and error. Got it.”
*
It was a while later, in the Great Hall, when Harry finally broached the subject with Ron.
“Tonks is a really good Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher isn’t she? And a dancing queen too!” Harry forced himself to laugh. “That was a great night wasn’t it?” He sounded oddly high-pitched.
“Yeah,” agreed Ron faintly, staring glassy-eyed at the platter of sausages before him. “Memorable.”
“Why, exactly?” probed Harry cautiously.
“Sorry, what?” said Ron, a lot louder this time, coming of his trance. He stared at Harry quizzically.
“Why was it memorable?” Harry pressed on, glaring at Ron, who was hastily continuing to eat.
“Oh, it was nothing…” he mumbled indistinctly.
“Then why did you say it was memorable? ‘Nothing’ is memorable is it?” asked Harry accusingly.
“Slip of the tongue,” Ron responded succinctly, before getting up from the table and striding off “ cutting off all possible further conversation.
*
“What a failure!” taunted Ginny once Harry had recounted his earlier conversation with Ron.
“Oh, and you did better?” replied Harry.
“As a matter of fact, I did!” smirked Ginny.
“You did?” said Harry eagerly.
“Yep. Woman’s touch.”
“And?!”
“Apparently Hermione just sort of, broke down, and Ron comforted her…”
Harry stared at her expectantly. She stared back.
“What?” Ginny asked finally.
“And then what happened?” Harry replied impatiently.
“That was it,” she said simply. “I know, HUGE anti-climax.”
Harry considered this for a moment. Maybe it was a good thing that nothing had happened between them. They fought so much…surely if they ever broke up, they’d never be friends again…He decided to gently slip in a word while he and Hermione were on Heads’ patrols that night.
Harry was very nervous about his first patrols that night. What did they have to do? How long would they be? Would Ron be alright with it? He shivered at the thought of this last one. He still felt guilty about Ron being left out of the Heads’ duties. He was a Prefect, thought Harry. I wasn’t. But then again, I didn’t like that very much… He unpacked his homework uneasily, and tried to concentrate, but found it extremely difficult, as the common room seemed twice as noisy as usual. Finally giving up, he said goodbye to Ginny and trudged up to the dormitory.
Ron was sat awkwardly on his bed, as though waiting for someone. He jumped up hurriedly when Harry entered, and started babbling about their Charms homework. Sighing heavily, Harry tried to act normally, but eventually he couldn’t hold up the pretence any longer.
“Ron, are you alright?” he asked carefully. “You’ve been acting strange the past few days.”
“I have?” Ron questioned squeakily. His face was turning red.
That says it all, thought Harry. An odd smile crept over his face. If it really makes him this bad, maybe it’ll be alright after all…“I have to go Ron.” Harry had just noticed it was 8.30 “ time for his Heads’ duties.
“Oh,” said Ron confusedly. “Why exactly?”
“Patrols,” Harry replied delicately, hoping that Ron would not overreact.
“Right,” Harry heard him say stiffly, as he left the room.
*
“So what do we do?”
“Just patrol I think…make sure no-one’s out when they shouldn’t be, that sort of thing.”
It was a while later, and Harry and Hermione were walking down the marble staircase together. Harry was plucking up the courage to ask Hermione about Ron when they met Draco Malfoy in the Entrance Hall. It was clear to them that he was extremely put out about Harry being chosen over him.
“McGonagall’s favourite too, Potty? Well I’d rather not be, if it means hanging around with the Mudblood,” he sneered, gesturing at Hermione.
Harry ignored him, continuing to walk and chat to Hermione as though he had not heard, but at the same time, confusion and rage were coursing through his mind. What was Malfoy doing here? He had tried to kill Dumbledore! Did McGonagall not know that? Anger licked his insides. One more trigger...
The last thing he heard as he was about to turn the corner was Malfoy’s yell of “Dumbledore’s dead now Potter! There’s no-one left to save you!” At this, the rage boiled over within Harry and he whirled round, his wand pointing steadily at Malfoy’s face. Malfoy’s grin looked triumphant.
Harry heard Hermione whisper “No!” urgently, but he ignored her warnings. He looked straight into Malfoy’s cold eyes, his own full of silent fury. As though a magnetic force were radiating from it, Harry felt his eyes being drawn to Malfoy’s forearm.
Pain shot across his scar, and Harry lowered his wand cautiously. “Go,” he said quietly, forcing himself to keep calm. Malfoy laughed maliciously, before gesturing to Crabbe and Goyle and sauntering away towards the Slytherin common room.
“Harry,” Hermione said, fixing him with a piercing stare. “What just happened?”
Harry didn’t answer right away. But eventually, he felt it was probably best to tell someone. “My scar,” he answered. “It keeps hurting. The night we came back…just now…”
“But Harry, what does this mean? I thought he started using Occlumency on you? Why wouldn’t he need to now?”
“I don’t know,” murmured Harry, biting his lip. “I just don’t understand.”
*Charles Caleb Colton