Disclaimer: Dumbledore makes a very oblique reference to Buffy in here. I've decided that he's a closet Buffy fan. Anyway. There's a line in here taken from the episode "Some Assembly Required" of season 2 of Buffy. Bonus points and cookies if you find out which it is.
30 minutes later, Harry walked back up to the castle, feeling even more tired. Hermione jogged a few paces ahead of him, going on about the Yarmuchs and how she thought Hagrid was improving as a teacher. "It's like he's finally figured it out, you know?" she said, for about the 50th time. "Just needed a little confidence, I always thought. Hagrid's great with creatures, he just got kind of nervous in front of us…"
Harry yawned, tuning her out. He noticed Ron up ahead of them. He was alone, staring intently at the ground and walking lethargically. He thought about trying to talk to him again, but couldn't quite summon up the right amount of energy.
"…As for what the colours represent, it's exciting, isn't it? Wouldn't it be wonderful to understand what a person was feeling based solely on what colour they were turning? Make life a bit easier. For example, it would be nice to know whether or not you're being listened to when you're talking, just by looking at someone's colour."
Harry blinked at her sleepily. "Sorry. I'm sort of… tired."
She examined his face in worry. "I can see that. Is there something bothering you?"
Harry shrugged. "You mean besides the fact that Ron and I aren't talking?"
"Are you sleeping at all?"
Harry jerked a shoulder. "Sort of. I've been… dreaming a lot."
Hermione nodded in understanding and chewed her lip thoughtfully. "There's this… potion I know how to make. It helps keep out unwanted dreams."
Harry felt his stomach turn over. "Is it like Occlumency?" Though he now had Dumbledore giving him Occlumency lessons, rather than Snape, Harry found he still didn't like them very much. Dumbledore insisted that they were crucial to stopping his so-called "tie" to Voldemort, but Harry was nearly certain that nothing would ever severe the pain he felt in his scar when Voldemort was feeling a particularly strong emotion.
"Certainly not," Hermione replied with a frown. "It just helps a person leave their worries behind. After what happened last year… I was having trouble sleeping and…"
Harry felt his throat constrict. "Oh."
Hermione watched him carefully. "Harry, you weren't the only one that cared about him. I would have done anything…"
"I know," he interrupted sharply. "You nearly did have to give everything."
Hermione touched his arm lightly. "It wasn't just… it wasn't just Sirius, either. I was worried about you. I was worried about what V-Voldemort would do to you." She shook her head and took a deep breath. "I'm sleeping better, now. I just wanted you to know, that… I know something that might help."
Harry felt a lump gathering in his throat. Grabbing her hand, he forced her to keep moving so that she wouldn't see the tears that had gathered in his eyes. "I'm fine," he said forcefully.
She squeezed his hand. "You don't always have to be. Not around me, at least."
Harry, feeling slightly panicky, just nodded, hoping that she would be quiet because he wasn't sure how long he could keep his tears at bay. Reaching the History of Magic classroom, he slid into a seat, pulled out his notes, and busily began scribbling his name and date on each piece of parchment.
Hermione sat down next to him. She shot him a worried look, but refrained from saying anything. Harry was glad, he wasn't quite sure how long his exhausted, over-frayed nerves would hold up.
When Professor Binns started his lecture, Harry tried to listen about the First Goblin Movement. He propped his head up on his hand, staring straight at the ghost professor. Professor Binns had a deep, melodic voice that rarely changed its volume or expression. Harry closed his eyes, still listening. The classroom faded, until all he could hear was Professor Binns' voice.
He was sitting with Hermione in the Gryffindor common room. They were curled up by the fire, Hermione nestled in his arms. She would turn around to look at him happily every so often and tell him that it was okay, he could tell her anything. He would assure her he was fine and they would share a long, lingering kiss.
Only, he wasn't lying with Hermione anymore. He was watching the two of them from just outside the room. Hermione was still smiling happily, but he was frowning, looking unsettled.
He was running down a long corridor, at the end of it he could see where he was cuddled up with Hermione. When he reached the entrance, he found that she wasn't curled up with him, after all.
She was in Ron's arms, shooting Ron happy looks, assuring Ron that he would be okay. Stomach clenching painfully, Harry walked toward them in trepidation. He no longer had anyone. His parents were gone. Sirius was gone. And his two best friends were about to tell him they no longer needed him. He would have to face Voldemort on his own. They turned to look at him, sharing matching, happy looks.
Hermione opened her mouth. "Harry! Harry come on!"
He tried to ask her where he was supposed to be going and why she was with Ron when she was supposed to be with him. No sound came out, but her expression became more harried and urgent.
"Harry! Wake up! Class is over! Harry…" he felt someone shake him painfully and something sharp jabbed him in his ribs.
With a start, he opened his eyes. Hermione peered at him uncertainly. Harry felt all the colour drain from his face… this was it, then… she would tell him she no longer needed him… that she had Ron… and…
"Harry, what's wrong? You're awfully pale. Maybe you're getting sick after all…"
Seeing the worry on her face pulled him back to reality. It was a dream. Just a dream. It was all a dream. "Hermione," he said desperately, still feeling the horror of the dream clinging to him. "Are we still, you know, together?"
She frowned. "Yes… are you sure you're alright?"
Harry stood up suddenly, sending his chair skidding backwards. "It was just a nightmare. I thought you'd left me behind, but you haven't, not really…" Harry tried to sort out his thoughts. "Ron. I understand now, what he must be feeling. I need to find him."
Waving absentmindedly at Professor Binns as he fled the classroom, Harry took the hallway at a run. He could hear the patter of Hermione's feet behind him. "Harry… what's going on… what do you understand…"
"Nothing. Everything…" he yelled over his shoulder. "I just… I have to find Ron."
He sped up and knew that Hermione was having trouble keeping up with him. He didn't care. He raced along the hall, turned the corner. He kept going, knowing that Ron couldn't have gone far. He put on another burst of speed, Hermione's ragged breathing disappearing. Rounding another corner, he saw a flash of red-hair at the very end.
"RON!" he bellowed, running as hard as his legs would possible carry him. At the end of the hall, he caught up with him. Panting, Harry leaned back against the wall, horrified to see that Ron still seemed content on ignoring him. He pushed himself away from the wall, flinging himself at Ron. Grabbing his friend's robes, he found himself eye to eye with him.
"Ron… we have…" Harry panted, still gripping his robes. "To… to… talk. Sorry… very… sorry…"
Ron regarded him icily. "Get off."
"NO!" Harry shouted. "I need to TALK to you! I understand what you're feeling and it's NOT true! We're not abandoning you…"
Ron shoved him. "Harry, I don't want to talk about this!"
Harry let go of his robes, but stood his ground. "I don't CARE! You can't just ignore it and pretend it's not happening! I'm sorry we didn't tell you right away, okay? But we can't do anything about that now! I didn't MEAN to let everything come out in one stupid note!"
"SHUT UP!" Ron hollered. "You don't understand."
Harry clenched his fists. "Don't understand, WHAT? All I'm trying to do is make things RIGHT and you're acting as though I plotted to KILL you!"
"YOU CAN'T MAKE THINGS RIGHT!!!" Ron yelled ferociously. "THERE IS NOTHING THAT WILL MAKE THINGS BETTER!"
Harry flinched. "I don't accept that," he said calmly. "Ron, our friendship…"
"Doesn't mean ANYTHING to you, Harry!" he bellowed angrily. "If it had meant ANYTHING, then you would have told me BEFORE you and Hermione got together." He paused, taking in a sharp breath. He continued in a calmer tone. "If I had thought, for one second that Hermione and I might… well, I would have told you beforehand. Because I wouldn't have wanted to do anything that would ruin our friendship."
Harry's legs felt weak. "That's not fair," he whispered.
Ron tried to brush past him, but Harry stood in his way. "Get out of my way."
"No." Harry's whole body was shaking. "You have NO right to pass judgement. You don't know how you would've acted had it been the other way around."
Ron narrowed his eyes. "Get out of my way."
"NO! YOU NEED TO GIVE ME A CHANCE TO EXPLAIN!"
"THERE IS NOTHING TO EXPLAIN! NOW GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
"NO!!!"
Ron took out his wand. Harry, startled by the sight of it, took a step backward, before brandishing his own wand. They glared at each other, their eyes meeting.
Ron raised his wand. "I said, 'Get out of my way.' I won't to ask again."
Harry raised his in defiance. "And I said I wanted a chance to explain."
Harry saw Hermione running towards them out of the corner of his eye. He stood his stance resolutely. Ron opened his mouth and Harry yelled, "Stupe-" at the same time that Ron shouted, "EXPELLIARMUS!"
Ron's curse hit Harry full blast and he flew backwards down the hall, his head cracking against the floor. His wand flew out of his hand and he could vaguely hear Hermione shrieking.
Ron stood over him, looking completely bewildered. Harry realized, with some pain, that despite all his Defense Against the Dark Arts qualifications, he'd just lost a dual. Miserably. Rubbing his forehead, he struggled to sit up, only to fall backwards again when Hermione threw herself in his arms.
"What are you DOING?" she sobbed out, clinging to him. "You and Ron having a dual? Are you completely stupid? You could be hurt! OR DEAD!"
"I hardly think that…" Harry tried to protest, but Hermione shot him such a dangerous look that he shut his mouth.
Ron fetched his wand, and held it out to him with trepidation. Harry took it, noticing that Ron's hands were shaking. "Harry… I don't really know what came over me…"
Harry was about to say that he understood and was about to do the very same thing to Ron, anyway, when any kind of commiseration died in his throat.
"The very SAME question that I would like an answer to."
Ron's body went ridged and Harry paled, turning slowly around. There was Professor McGonagall, glaring at the both of them and wearing a very disapproving expression.
"Never," she said, in a clipped tone. "Have I seen such a display between members of the same house. I am disgusted by what I have just witnessed, especially by the two of you, whom I have come to expect better from. If you are capable of walking, Mr. Potter, I want both of you in my office. Now. I will be contacting the Headmaster."
Hermione helped Harry up. He looked at Professor McGonagall's retreating back in panic. "Well, I think that you deserve it," Hermione snapped. "After what you two just did! I'm surprised that she's not expelling you this very moment!" She let him go and Harry was very afraid he was going to go crashing to the floor again. Hermione squeaked, seeing him waver on his feet, and grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.
Ron took his other arm. "It's okay, Hermione. I've got him."
Hermione looked uncertain, but let go of Harry. Much to Harry's chagrin, he had to allow Ron to carry him along. Ron, for his part, seemed to be in a much better mood.
Harry realized that was just fine with him. A few minutes of pain seemed like hardly a large price to pay if it meant Ron would talk to him again. Grunting, they made their way down the hall.
"Think she's going to expel us?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head. "Doubt it," he wheezed. "I don't think she'd go to this much trouble if she was merely going to throw us out. Besides, we've done worse."
Ron nodded. "That's true." Ron paused and thought something over. "I'm sorry about losing my temper and cursing you like that."
Harry thought he sounded decidedly unsorry, but didn't point that out. "Nahh… it's nothing. I'm fine."
Ron snorted, but continued to help him along. Upon reaching McGonagall's office, Ron went still, looking terrified. As Ron helped him into a chair, Harry found that the prospect of being on speaking terms with Ron was far more important than any impending punishment.
Professor McGonagall stood behind her desk, her arms folded across her chest. Her lips were pressed into a tight line. And she looked, Harry decided, very, very furious.
McGonagall gave Harry such a piercing gaze that he shifted uncomfortably. "Potter, are you quite alright, or would you like to be brought down to the infirmary?"
Harry was impressed that such a gentle-sounding question could come out sounding so accusatory. "I'm fine, really."
Ron snorted again. "He's not, I got him really good."
"You did not!"
Professor McGonagall rubbed wearily at her temples. "Boys!" she cried sharply. "That will be quite enough."
Ron gulped, sharing a look of horror with Harry. Harry resisted the urge to grin.
"What the two of you displayed tonight… it's an embarrassment. To me. To this school. To Gryffindor. To yourselves. You did not just put yourselves in danger, but you put others at risk, too. You had no idea who could have come around that corner while you were throwing curses at each other." She peered at them stonily and Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising. "You should be ashamed. I don't remember ever being so furious, and I have seen many things in my time here at Hogwarts-"
"What about the time that we arrived here in a flying car?" Ron interrupted. Professor McGonagall stared at Ron until he shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you know, you said you couldn't remember ever having been so furious before, but you were pretty furious then… and I'm just trying to get a little perspective," he finished hastily.
Harry grinned happily at the memory. "The look on George and Fred's faces…"
Ron caught his eye and laughed. "Oh, yeah, they still bring it up in jealousy every once and a while and…."
"SILENCE!" McGonagall shouted, rubbing at her temples again.
Harry, shocked by her outburst, shut his mouth. Ron looked at him and rolled his eyes, clearing wondering what her problem was. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
The exchange was not lost, however, on McGonagall. "Was this a joke? Because, frankly, Potter and Weasley, I'm less than impressed if it was."
Ron shook his head. "Oh no, I was really angry."
Harry nodded. "Me, too."
She stared at them in incomprehension. "You have five minutes to come up with an explanation that I find acceptable, or else I'm going to have to ask you both to pack up your bags."
The seriousness of the situation finally sunk in, and Harry began to think that maybe it wasn't so funny, after all. "Please, Professor," he said, slightly panicky now. "It's kind of a private matter."
She just stared at him balefully. "Well, then," she said in a clipped tone. "Next time you are dealing with a private matter, I suggest you don't get caught. You have four minutes."
Ron swallowed and stared down at his hands. "This isn't Harry's fault."
"To hell it isn't!" Harry burst in, angrily. "Professor, I lied to Ron about what was going with Hermione. I was going to tell him, but Professor Snape got there first and he was really angry and wouldn't talk to me so I confronted him and…"
"And I wouldn't talk to him," Ron continued. "Because he'd lied to me and, well, it was my two best friends …"
"But we weren't really abandoning him, you see!" Harry added. "He only thought we were. So I had to make him listen…"
"And, of course, I didn't want to listen …"
"And one thing led to another and our wands were out and we were really, really angry…"
"And that's when I beat Harry!"
Harry winced. "You didn't, really," he protested weakly. "I wanted to let you win…."
Ron's face hardened. "Of course not!" he muttered. "You always have to be perfect, don't you, Harry? I can't win anything! You have the girl, you have the fame, you have the article in the Daily Prophet…"
McGonagall watched their entire spiel without moving a muscle. "SILENCE!" she yelled again.
Harry swallowed any retort he was about to make, mentally noting that maybe he and Ron weren't on as equal footing as he had been beginning to think.
There was a serene knock and Professor Dumbledore opened the door slightly, peering around the corner. Upon seeing Ron and Harry he smiled warmly. "Ahh," he said. "Just wanted to make sure I'm in the correct spot." He entered the office, shutting the door behind him. "Now, Minerva, what seems to be the problem?"
Still furious, McGonagall pointed her wand at the two of them with a shaky hand. "Headmaster, Potter and Weasley thought it would be amusing to practice dueling in Hogwarts' corridors."
"I see," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling slightly. "And who won the dual?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other in confusion. Finally, Ron held up his hand. "I did, Sir."
Dumbledore nodded. "Hmmm. Interesting, very interesting. Was anyone injured?"
"Harry's still a little woozy, but I think he'll be okay," Ron answered, slight pride leaking into his voice.
Harry kept his mouth shut, not really wanting to get into another argument in front of Dumbledore.
Dumbledore nodded again. "Yes. Well, then, Harry you're free to go. I'd like a short word with Ronald." His wrinkled eyes twinkled again. "That is, if you're able to walk."
Harry stood shakily and tried to push away his dizziness. "Sir, this isn't Ron's fault. I provoked him. We deserve equal blame."
"HEY!" Ron cried. "I don't need you sticking up for me!"
Harry ignored him, watching Dumbledore. "It was mostly my fault, actually," he said, quieter. "I sort of messed things up."
"Don't listen to him, Sir!" Ron said, his face flushed. "I was the one who attacked him, remember?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Quite right, quite right. You both acted rashly and dangerously." He looked at Professor McGonagall. "What do you think, Minerva? 50 points from Gryffindor and a week's worth of detention each?"
Professor McGonagall looked a little bewildered. "Yes, I suppose that would do…"
Dumbledore gestured towards the door. "Then you are free to leave, Harry."
Harry, very confused, walked towards the door, surprised when an invisible force gently pushed him all the way out and shut it in his face. He stared at it for a moment, wondering what Dumbledore wanted to talk to Ron about before turning to go to the Gryffindor common room.
***
"Sit down, Ronald, sit down." Dumbledore said mildly, gently steering him into the seat that Harry had just vacated.
Ron sat, looking unsure. "Professor," he said slowly. "Are you going to be telling me about how I shouldn't be mad at Harry? Because I don't think that will do much to change my mind."
Dumbledore glanced at McGonagall and gestured towards her desk. "Do you mind?"
McGonagall, sounding as confused as Ron felt, said. "Of course not."
Dumbledore hopped nimbly up on her desk, sitting so that he could stare down at Ron. Ron found himself shrinking slightly under Dumbledore's penetrating gaze. "Actually," the Headmaster said calmly. "I realize that this must be a very trying time for you. It must be difficult, constantly feeling as if you're living in Harry's shadow. I can't imagine what it must be like, seeing him "win" the girl, as well."
"I don't live in Harry's shadow!" Ron burst out angrily.
"Of course not," Dumbledore said serenely. "However, I'm sure that it must feel that way."
Ron shifted uncomfortably under Dumbledore's shrewd gaze. "Harry lied to me, Professor. They both did. He had plenty of opportunity to tell me… and he didn't." Ron swallowed hard. "I would've. If it had been me-I would've."
Dumbledore sighed. "Very true. However, I myself have always found 'would have' to be somewhat of an… impossibility. One can never know how they would act until they are thrown into a situation."
"He lied," Ron said bitterly. "Nothing else matters."
Dumbledore searched through the pockets of his robes, apparently looking for something important. Ron stared at him, wondering if he'd heard anything he'd just said. "Aha!" Dumbledore said triumphantly, pulling out a stick of gum. He held it out for Ron. "It's mint… quite good…"
Ron continued to stare at him. "Erm… I'm good, thanks."
"Minerva?"
Professor McGonagall just stared at Dumbledore pointedly.
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "More for me then." Dumbledore unwrapped the stick of gum and began chewing it rather loudly. "Love makes you do the whacky."
Ron frowned, still staring at him in mild confusion. "Sir… I don't understand…"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You will, Ronald. You will."
Ron just stared at him, thinking about how Dumbledore was less than helpful. "Sir, are you saying that Harry loves… I mean to say that Harry might love…"
"Certainly not," Dumbledore broke in. "Good heavens, that's quite a large jump to make."
"But… but you just said that…"
"Love makes you do the whacky?"
"Yes!"
Dumbledore took a loud smack of his gum and peered at Ron with a wise expression. "More general, Ronald. I do not believe that you live in Harry's shadow. I believe that Harry lives in yours."
"Neither of us lives in any shadow!" Ron cried.
"Harry lives in a life that has long been absent of love," Dumbledore said. "You have not. And though he feels loved and accepted by your family, he is not and cannot ever be one of you."
Ron blinked, trying to process his words. "Wait," he said slowly. "You're saying that Harry's jealous of me? But… but that's impossible… he has…"
"Everything?" Dumbledore finished, somewhat sadly. "You'll often find that everything is a definition one makes up on their own, used to describe what they think they desire, when nothing can truly give them everything." Dumbledore put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "There is no one that can truly understand what it must be like to be Harry. You are one of the two most important people in his life and he desperately needs you. Bear that in mind."
Dumbledore stood up and led Ron to the door. Ron paused and looked at him. "But, Professor… that doesn't make sense… what does this have to do with Harry and Hermione?"
Dumbledore chuckled and looked appraisingly at the ceiling. He thought for a moment. "No… it's not mint after all… it's cinnamon."
Ron was desperately trying to process that information when he realized that Dumbledore was talking about his gum. Feeling stupid, he didn't realize it when Dumbledore pushed him out of McGonagall's office and closed the door.
He stared blankly at the door for a moment before shaking his head. "What the bloody hell was that?"
****