A/N: This is the first time I've really attempted writing from Harry's point of view, as he's not the main focus of my story, but it seemed appropriate at this point. Good news for any dissatisfied Harry fanatics!
Disclaimer: So, none of the characters here are mine. Although I'm guessing most of you already knew that.
*****
Harry woke up early the following morning, feeling as though he had barely slept. However once his eyes opened he knew he wouldn’t fall asleep again. Groaning, he glanced at the clock beside his bed. Seven thirty. Seven thirty on a Saturday? What was wrong with him? He glanced over to Ron’s bed, hoping that he was awake too. The sight of his friend’s sleeping face brought him back to reality with a jolt. Last night. This morning, even. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the memory from his mind. Ron and Hermione, together, her head in his lap for God’s sake.
The sound of movement from beside him caused him to fall perfectly still. Ron turned over, and began to snore. Breathing out slowly, Harry decided that he wasn’t ready to face him when he woke up. He got out of bed and changed into his robes, creeping out of the dormitory and closing the door silently behind him.
As soon as he was out of the room, Harry rushed downstairs and out through the portrait hole, only feeling safe when he was a good one hundred metres away from the common room. Unsure of what to do with himself he decided to go down to the hall for breakfast, his mind a tangle of thoughts competing for attention.
*****
The Great Hall was practically empty when he walked in, the only people aside from himself a small gaggle of second year girls who burst into a fit of high-pitched giggles when they recognised him. With a sigh he slumped down at the Gryffindor table, a plate of toast and scrambled eggs appearing before him. Harry, however, realised that he was not in the mood to eat. Pushing his fast-cooling breakfast around his plate, his mind returned once again to the events of the night before. His two best friends curled up together.
So Ron and Hermione were a couple? When did that happen? And why did he feel so weird about it? After all, he had been expecting it since…well practically since their second year at Hogwarts. He was the one who had been urging Ron to confess his love, so why did he now wish he had never mentioned it? He should be happy for them, he really should…but he just couldn’t. It felt far too strange. Besides, they hadn’t even told him about it. He was supposed to be their best friend, yet they kept this from him.
Suddenly he felt the voice of reason grip him, as he realised that it might have only happened last night, so they couldn’t have told him yet. This thought eased his rising anger a little and, deciding that he would ask Ron about it when he woke up, he got up and headed outside.
*****
About an hour later, Harry heard footsteps approaching him across the grass.
“Hey Harry, where were you this morning?”
Harry looked up, shielding his eyes against the early morning sunlight, and saw Ron standing above him. Turning his gaze back towards the lake, he said, “I woke up early. Figured you’d want to sleep on so I came down for breakfast alone.”
He felt, rather than saw, Ron sit down next to him.
“Right. S’just Hermione was worried when you didn’t turn up.”
Harry closed his eyes briefly at the mention of Hermione, then remembered that he was meant to be talking to him about last night.
“What happened to you last night? You weren’t back by the time I went to bed,” he looked at the side of Ron’s face, waiting for some kind of confession.
Ron blushed slightly, but said with not a hint of hesitation in his voice, “Oh you know what Filch is like. He decided to keep me in detention for as long as possible just out of spite.”
Glancing at Harry, Ron saw that his friend was giving him a look he couldn’t decipher.
“What?” he asked, worried by the way Harry was staring at him. Harry, meanwhile, felt his earlier frustration come flooding back.
“So that’s where you were?” he repeated, “Still helping Filch? That’s it?”
“Yeah,” Ron replied, looking bewildered, “Harry, what is it?”
Harry said nothing, but got up and began walking back towards the castle.
“Harry!” he heard Ron shout from behind him, “Harry! Wait up!”
But he continued to stride away from the lake, heading for the common room.
*****
As the portrait of the fat lady swung closed behind him, Harry searched the room quickly for signs of Hermione. He spotted her sitting by the fire, surrounded by piles of books. He smiled, thinking it was just like her to be working on a Saturday, but then reminded himself that he had more important things to think about.
“Hermione,” he said brusquely, sitting down opposite her.
“Oh hello Harry, didn’t see you come in,” she murmured, before glancing up at him and smiling. “Everything ok?”
“Dunno,” he muttered, causing her to frown slightly. Before she could open her mouth to speak, he fired a question at her, “Get up to anything last night then?”
Hermione’s frown deepened at his tone of voice, and there was a flicker of something else in her eyes, but she looked at him and resolutely replied, “No, not really. Why?”
Harry scowled. Why would neither of them tell him what was going on? He felt betrayed.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”
He stood up and stormed out of the common room, only to bump into Ron in the corridor.
“Harry mate, listen. I don’t know what’s going on but do you want to talk about it?”
In reply, Harry merely gave him a bitter look and continued on down the corridor. As he turned the corner he heard a faint, “Bloody hell, what is it with people this week?”
*****
It was a good few hours before anyone found him, but when Harry turned at the sound of the door opening, he was surprised to see Ginny enter the owlery.
“Hey Harry,” she said quietly.
Turning back to look out of the window, he gave a moody grunt in reply.
There was a moment’s silence, then she appeared next to him, looking not at his face but out across the grounds. After a minute, she said, “Hermione told me about this morning. She’s worried about you Harry.”
He laughed bitterly and continued to stare out of the window.
“What’s going on? Why all the teen angst?”
Harry turned to look at her, ready to tell her to get lost, but decided that he couldn’t. He made a strangled noise deep in his throat, and muttered, “Gin…I can’t…”
He felt her gaze boring into him, and closed his eyes in resignation.
“It was…well…your brother.”
“Ron?” she asked, “What happened, Harry? What did he do?”
He made the noise again, and felt like stomping his feet. He couldn’t lie to Ginny. He didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t. Awkwardly, feeling his cheeks begin to flush, he muttered “It wasn’t just him. He didn’t really do anything. Or…well…oh Ginny!”
She merely continued to stare at him, urging him on.
“He and…Hermione…” he trailed off.
Harry glanced nervously at Ginny to see her reaction. She looked a little taken aback, but when she spoke it was with an eerie calmness.
“Really? What, last night? Huh. Hermione didn’t mention it.”
Harry frowned and turned away.
“Well she wouldn’t, would she?” hearing nothing from Ginny, he continued, “I woke up in the middle of the night and Ron wasn’t back. When I went to look for him…he was…they were…she had her head in his lap Ginny! They must’ve fallen asleep after…after…” he trailed off, a look of mingled distaste and hurt flooding his face. He waited for Ginny to speak.
After a moment, he felt her lay a hand hesitantly on his shoulder. Harry turned to face her as she said, “But Harry, aren’t you glad? We’ve always kind of known, haven’t we? I mean, they’re your best friends, you should be happy for them! And just because they’re…together…doesn’t mean they feel any differently about you.”
As Ginny reeled off all the arguments he himself had dismissed earlier, they seemed to make perfect sense. However, there was still something nagging at him.
“But they didn’t tell me Gin…I gave them plenty of chances and they didn’t tell me…”
Looking at Ginny’s face, he saw a little of the hurt he was feeling reflected there. As if she had forgotten it was still there, she removed her hand from his shoulder and turned to look out of the window.
“I know Harry. I can’t explain that away. I expect they have their own good reasons.”
Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and they spent the next few minutes in silence, both lost in thought.
*****
Dinner that evening was an uncomfortable affair, as Harry refused to talk to Ron and Hermione, despite their constant attempts to make conversation. Ron and Hermione were also edgy with each other, Harry noticed with a slight flutter of bitter satisfaction. Ginny, meanwhile, was sitting as far away as possible, clearly determined not to be dragged into their mess, and was talking to one of the sixth year boys instead. Harry watched them for a while, smiling at the boy’s efforts to make her laugh.
When he finished eating Harry went straight through the common room, up to the dormitory. He sat down on his bed wearily, and was too busy thinking to notice the door open a few minutes later.
“Harry?” a voice said tentatively.
Looking up, he saw Ron standing nervously by the door, regarding him with caution.
“Just get lost, would you Ron?” he muttered angrily, though he was too tired to put much effort into it.
Hearing the door close, he gave a grateful sigh and went to lie back on his bed. However when he did he realised that Ron had not left the room, and was now standing a few feet away. Sitting up, Harry’s eyes flashed with anger.
“I asked you to leave.”
Ron looked at him almost sadly, and replied, “I’m not leaving, Harry. You can yell all you want, but I want to know why you’re so pissed off at me all of a sudden.”
With this he sat down on his bed, hands between his knees, and looked at him. When Harry did not say anything, he motioned with his hands, “Go on then. Tell me what’s going on.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed, but instead of hitting out at Ron he merely spoke in a low, harsh voice.
“You want to know what’s going on? My ‘best friend’ doesn’t trust me, that’s what’s going on. My ‘best friend’ has decided he doesn’t want to tell me anything important anymore. My ‘best friend’ is evidently no longer my friend.”
Ron’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off.
“You and Hermione? Last night? I thought I should remind you as clearly you’re too much of a coward to tell me yourself.”
Ron went bright red, and looked down at his fingers.
“I don’t know what you think happened Harry, but I swear to you…it was nothing.”
He looked up hopefully, but Harry was even angrier than before.
“Nothing? Bloody hell Ron, she had her head in your lap! Your fingers were all…tangled up in her hair!”
Ron looked like he wished the floor would swallow him up.
“Yeah…” he muttered, “I realise how it looked…but honestly Harry, I was just…she was just…” he took a deep breath and began again, feeling Harry’s eyes boring into him.
“You know how I feel but…nothing would ever happen.”
Harry was briefly surprised that Ron was finally admitting how he felt.
“She was upset. I did something stupid…really stupid…and I was trying to get her to calm down. You should’ve seen her Harry…” he muttered, looking at Harry with horror, “I mean, I didn’t know she could cry like that! But anyway…I finally got her to forgive me and we just…kind of…fell asleep.”
He glanced at Harry nervously.
“So, nothing really happened?” Harry asked, carefully.
“Honestly. I’d tell you something like that mate, you know I would!”
Harry stared at Ron for a minute, then smiled wickedly.
“But you want it to, huh?”
Ron turned a deeper shade of crimson than Harry thought possible, and began to splutter, “No…I never…I didn’t mean to say…Christ Harry!”
Seeing Harry grin at him, he began to grin back. Soon they were laughing and joking, Ron desperately trying to dig his way out of the hole he had dug himself into. When the other boys came into the room, they were greeted by the sight of Ron and Harry playing a rather enthusiastic game of wizard’s chess.
“Nice to have things back to normal, hey lads?” Seamus laughed, as they closed the door behind them and went to join Harry and Ron.
*****