The Fiasco

(A/N: This is a follow-up (not a sequel!) to my earlier story, "Half an Hour." Again, we look at a scene in OotP from Hermione's PoV. I hope I've read her reactions right… she's so good at hiding what she thinks.)

(Disclaimer: JKR let us play with her universe… but it's still hers, you know it, I know it.)

"The Fiasco"

by Paracelsus

Outwardly I maintain my sense of calm. That's what he needs most now, I think. Calm confidence. Quiet reassurance that he's done the right thing. That everything will turn out all right.

Inwardly I try desperately to convince myself of that.

When I arranged for the Skeeter woman to interview him, I was hoping the full truth would finally become known to the public. That he would finally be able to tell his side of the story, to contradict the constant stream of lies spewed out by Fudge and the Daily Prophet. And maybe – I'd hoped, anyway – it would prove beneficial for him as well. Cathartic. Therapeutic.

I never dreamed it would be torture.

Every one of Skeeter's questions reopened another bleeding wound. Every answer forced him to relive a memory from Hell. By the end of the interview I knew this would make his nightmares worse, not better. But he went through with it to the end… because he's the bravest man I've ever known.

Afterwards he wouldn't talk about it at all. It's taken him two days to recover from that interview. We're finally discussing it, over dinner – not the most private of settings, but perhaps that's to the good.

I do wish Ron and Ginny were here. They'd be a comfort, especially Ron. For someone with no clue about people's feelings, he can be remarkably sympathetic to Harry's. But no, they've got Quidditch practice. Nice to know where their priorities lie.

Instead, I have Seamus, still trying to pretend Harry doesn't exist, and Dean, who seems to think the whole interview was a prank on Umbridge.

I'm so thankful for Neville Longbottom. At least Neville sympathizes: he's as pale as if he'd given the interview. "It's the right thing to do, Harry. It must have been… tough… talking about it… Was it?"

'Tough.' That must be the guy-talk way to describe it. 'Performing a self-appendectomy with a rusty paring knife' would be more accurate.

His answer is a barely audible mumble. "Yeah, but people have got to know what Voldemort's capable of, haven't they?"

Neville nods as he cleans his plate. "That's right, and his Death Eaters too… People should know…" Interesting. Neville seems almost more concerned with the Death Eaters than with their leader.

I try to coax him to say more, but he's closed up again. We finish our pudding in silence. I can tell his silence is bothering Dean, Seamus and Neville; they look anxious to get away. I smile thankfully at them as they get up from the table and leave.

He doesn't move. I guess we'll wait for Ron after all.

I wish he'd say something. Not necessarily about the interview, but about anything. We used to talk all the time…

Out of the corner of my eye I see Cho and Marietta come into the hall. I wait to see Cho smile at him, maybe wave… it would cheer him up. I've been trying to get them together all year: he's always fancied her, and she can make him happy. And after that interview, it's more important than ever that he be happy. I just wish…

Uh oh. Something's wrong – Cho's pretending she hasn't seen us. But I know she has: she makes a point of sitting with her back to us.

He's noticed her too. Oh well… she's probably the last thing in the world I want to talk about, but at least it will get him talking. Just keep telling yourself, girl, you're his best friend. Time to act like it.

"Oh, I forgot to ask you, what happened on your date with Cho? How come you were back so early?" I make a conscious effort to sound upbeat. I think I succeed. I think.

I get my answer from the change in his face. Where before he looked miserable, now he looks miserable and confused. "Er… well, it was…" Words fail him. I wait as he pulls the rhubarb crumble towards him and takes a second helping while he tries to think of the right words. He finally finds them. "…a complete fiasco, now you mention it."

And he proceeds to give me the details of his date: how Cho persuaded him to take her to Madam Puddifoot's, a kitschy teashop that I admit is just her style; how after they'd exhausted Quidditch as a topic of conversation, they found themselves with nothing to say; and how, incredibly, in the midst of his date with one girl, he told her he'd made plans to see another girl. It boggles the mind, it really does.

"…so then she jumps up, right, and says 'I'll see you around, Harry,' and runs out of the place!" he finishes, both his story and his pudding. "I mean, what was all that about? What was going on?"

From anyone else, that would be a rhetorical question. I can't help glancing again at the back of Cho's head. And as much as I dislike the whole concept of his dating Cho, I can't help feeling a little bit sorry for her. To have her date ruined by her boyfriend's appointment with another girl…

And then, to come to dinner and discover her boyfriend sitting with said other girl! Eeeeep!

Oh Merlin, I've botched it all up for the two of them. He was only doing that interview because I asked him to. I have to patch them up if I can. If I can just get him to see that it was the way he put it to her … I sigh sadly as I rally my arguments. This isn't going to be fun at all. "Oh, Harry. Well, I'm sorry, but you were a bit tactless."

As I expected, he's quite indignant to hear this. In his mind, after all, he's the injured party. "Me, tactless? One minute we were getting on fine, next minute she was telling me that Roger Davies asked her out, and how she used to go and snog Cedric in that stupid teashop – how was I supposed to feel about that?"

Well, it's obvious how he was supposed to feel – if by that you mean how she wanted him to feel. I probably shouldn't point that out, though. If I'm to keep them together, I don't want him thinking she's manipulating him.

Now there's irony.

Just be patient with him. He truly doesn't understand. "Well, you see, you shouldn't have told her that you wanted to meet me halfway through your date." By the end of the sentence, I realize that I'm coming across as insufferably condescending. Ouch.

Which of course gets his hackles up. "But, but, but – you told me to meet you at twelve and to bring her along, how was I supposed to do that without telling her–?"

What am I, the Answer Lady? Yes, of course he had to tell her, but… Let's try again.

"You should have told her differently. You should have said it was really annoying, but I'd made you promise to come along to the Three Broomsticks, and you really didn't want to go, you'd much rather spend the whole day with her, but unfortunately you thought you really ought to meet me and would she please, please come along with you, and hopefully you'd be able to get away more quickly?" Damn. I thought I lost that habit of talking in run-on sentences when I was fourteen.

I still sound condescending, too. Double ouch.

He's looking at me as though I was speaking Gobbledegook. I don't think he understood a single thing I said. It's like he's never heard of the concept of a social fiction. Or maybe… maybe he grew up with too many of them.

But he's got to understand. He's got to make it clear to Cho that I'm not a threat. Because I'm not a threat. I'm his best friend, nothing more. What could get that point across to lovely little Cho Chang?

Ah, of course… "And it might have been a good idea to mention how ugly you think I am, too." Certainly by comparison to Cho. I 'm well aware I don't have her looks… I don't have her hair, or her eyes, or her skin, or her anything else.

Finally, he understands something I've said. I watch him think about it, while the most faraway look spreads over his face. And once he considers the matter, I'm sure he'll agree that…

"But I don't think you're ugly," he tells me.

Out of the blue. Just like that. After all my explanations that's the only thing he heard, and he heard it as a slight against me. And no one gets to insult me while he's around, not even me.

I can't help it – I burst out laughing. I daresay that's a great compliment in guy-talk. Honestly, it's absurd. And can he really be that clueless? It's almost like he's looking for reasons not to get back together with her. You'd almost think he preferred…

Stop that train of thought right now, girl.

Yours and his.

"Harry, you're worse than Ron…" I start to say, before I recall Ron's behavior last year – not that I'm likely to ever forget. The way Ron ruined my evening at the Yule Ball was far worse than whatever angst our Chinese drama-queen suffered Saturday. In truth I'm forced to amend my statement. "Well, no, you're not."

And speaking of Ron… here he comes now, still grubby in his Quidditch uniform. He's got a grumpy look that tells me practice didn't go well. Which means we probably won't get much sympathy from Ron tonight… I should end the discussion before Ron joins us… but I can't leave it at this point, I just can't.

I sigh again – I've no choice but to let him have it with both barrels. "Look – you upset Cho when you said you were going to meet me, so she tried to make you jealous. It was her way of trying to find out how much you liked her." I really don't know how more plainly I can say it.

Ron's joined us by now. He doesn't greet us, just starts pulling platters of food next to him and piling his plate. Heaven help anyone who stands between Ron and his dinner.

Unfortunately, Ron's arrival doesn't end the conversation.

"Is that what she was doing?" he asks me. Yes, adorable nitwit, that's what she was doing. Manipulating his emotions… or trying to… Stop, don't think like that. Remember, despite what's happened he still fancies that girl.

He continues, "Well, wouldn't it have been easier if she'd just asked me whether I liked her better than you?"

Face goes blank. Panic attack. Question way too close. Just be calm. Breathe. Remember, best friend. Show no emotion. Treat it as a reasonable question. Answer accordingly. You can do it.

I get my control back, of my voice at least. I tell him, "Girls don't often ask questions like that," in a flat tone, and manage to stop there. I'm quite proud of myself, considering I want to scream at him! God, don't you get it?! Ask the sort of question that invites humiliation?! Why do you think I haven't said anything? No girl is that masochistic!

"Well, they should!" he says, with more feeling than he's shown in two days. "Then I could've just told her I fancy her, and she wouldn't have had to get herself all worked up again about Cedric dying!"

I maintain control, no matter how much it hurts inside. There it is, the first time he's come out and said he's fancied her. I've known it all along, but to hear it spoken… Face facts, girl, you were still hoping against hope that he might…

Ginny shows up at the table at that moment, for which I'll probably owe her a wizard's debt for eternity. Her arrival gives me a moment to collect myself. Like Ron, she's sweaty and still in her Quidditch garb, but at least she doesn't ignore us in favor of food.

Four people are too many for this intimate a discussion. I try to end it in a way that will get him to consider Cho's feelings a bit more… it's the only way I can salvage this fiasco. "I'm not saying what she did was sensible," I say to him… Madam Understatement, that's me. "I'm just trying to make you see how she was feeling at the time."

And only now, at the end of the discussion, does Ron feel the need to weigh in with his opinion. "You should write a book," he tells me, making a bad joke of it, "translating mad things girls do so boys can understand them." Thank you, Ron, that's so helpful. Maybe you'd like an autographed copy of my English-Guy Talk Dictionary.

He gives Ron a sort of grunt of agreement, but I don't think he's listening. His eyes are following Cho as she leaves, still giving him the cold shoulder. I'm actually relieved when he turns back to Ron and Ginny and begins talking about Quidditch with them. It will occupy his mind for a while… and since nobody expects me to take part in a Quidditch debate, it leaves me free to think.

Because this really has been a fiasco on my part, right from the start… and I don't know how I'm going to fix it. I only wanted him to be happy. But now, with him upset that she walked out on their date, and her upset that he'd interrupt their date for me…

Hold on. Wait a moment…

He said she was worked up about Cedric dying? After she learned I was interrupting their date? Dear Merlin, she wasn't just trying to make him jealous – she was trying to punish him. She must know how torn up he is about Cedric. Why, that vicious, conniving little…

I hold my tongue. I could still be wrong… and even if I'm right, I could never tell him this. It would destroy any chance of happiness for him – and the only reason I'm trying to push him and Cho together is so he'll be happy. Which is all the happiness I can hope for.

I just wish…

I guess I'd just like some quiet reassurance that I've done the right thing, that's all. That everything will turn out all right.