CHAPTER 15: All Hallows Broken Loose!
The tale of what had happened outside the Hogs Head was soon the stuff of Hogwarts legend. All that people could talk about in the corridors was what had happened, who was involved and who was hurt the most. Ron, who Harry remembered relished these sorts of occasions, fell into his familiar pattern of embellishing certain events. By the end of the next week the story had mutated from a passable version of the truth to a yarn where Ron was boasting that he and Harry had planned the whole thing and their argument was part of it. It even involved him wrestling Crabbe after he'd accidentally transfigured him into a mountain troll.
It was this last lie that would have unravelled it in ordinary circumstances. Harry and Hermione, however, decided to indulge Ron in his moment of celebrity; both felt it was so easy these days to push Ron into a royal sulk that it was best to leave him be. Harry even laughed; Ron had somehow managed to get hit in the forehead by something and he had a nice scar there…
Harry was more interested in what had happened, or nearly happened, between himself and Hermione during the visit to Hogsmeade. Neither had mentioned what had happened in Madam Puddifoot's teashop and Harry couldn't tell if Hermione was avoiding the subject. She took to using the excuse of Ron being close by whenever Harry even skirted the subject; this involved the mentioning of tea, hands, legs, Cho or any reference to intimacy. She backed away several times when Harry leaned over to look at what she was reading. Harry was left feeling puzzled.
Ron was certainly trying to make up for lost time. He wasted no time in reinstating Harry to the Quidditch team, mainly because Neville was begging not to be selected again. Harry was delighted to accept and apologised for berating Ron during his commentary of Gryffindor's last match. Ron also couldn't stop saying sorry to Hermione for calling her a Mudblood. He seemed very keen to give her hugs, apologetic arm-in-arm walks and took to smoothing her hair whenever she was sat down.
Harry tried very hard not to give in to the crippling jealousy swimming in his stomach every time Ron did these things. In this new state of paranoia, he couldn't help thinking that Ron's beaming smiles, whenever Hermione didn't object to this physical contact, were laced with something. He knew he was just imagining things and that he had no right to become possessive of Hermione. She was free to do as she liked after all.
But Harry was concerned about her choices. She didn't seem to mind Ron's increased contact; in fact, Harry was sure she positively bathed in the affection. Her radiant smiles and happy laughter sliced through Harry like a blunt, disease-ridden knife, as he realised she was taking pleasure from another boy's attention. All in all, despite the euphoria most of the school was rapt-in following the Hogsmeade battle, Harry was back to feeling low, alone and empty.
It was a week before Halloween and most of the students were looking forward to the great feast that graced the occasion. Harry, though, was too downhearted to be very concerned about much at all. He was pleased that he and Ron made up, it seemed like their latest spat was all over and things would get back to normal. The only thing was that a problem had developed about this and Harry hadn't seen it coming.
The problem was that after such a long, and occasionally hurtful period apart, Harry had become used to spending more time with Hermione. Increasingly, he had enjoyed being alone with her without the regularly churlish and immature behaviour of Ron. True, it wasn't as funny as when he and Ron were good friends but Ron had become so weird that these times were gone now. He and Ron had very few laughs as remade friends. Harry hoped that this was just awkwardness after being at loggerheads for so long.
Despite the lack of comedy, Harry still found, to his slight surprise, that he preferred being with Hermione without Ron. This was probably due to the fact that as a trio Hermione didn't pay him as much attention as he had become used to. He knew he couldn't expect her to ignore Ron totally but he would have hoped for more attention himself. Especially after what had happened with them over the past few months.
Ron had become very different. Harry noticed the changes in the time between the fight in Hogsmeade and Halloween. At first, they were small and insignificant. Just typical Ron…making up for lost time in the best way he knew how. It turned out that he had been struggling with most of his classes without Hermione's help and during lessons, now that they were friends again, he leant on her for advice. He would ask her for pointers on what he was doing wrong and to check that he had got certain things correct. Harry couldn't help thinking that he was making things bad on purpose so Hermione could help him more often.
Ron would use these occasions to pay Hermione an indecent number of compliments. Harry got so bored listening to, 'oh, Hermione, you are the greatest,' and, 'have I told you I love you,' and, 'I wish I had your brains and your beauty,' that he moved away. Hermione looked offended and a bit upset but not for as long as Harry thought she should.
In the common room, things were even worse. Ron was rushing to sit in the chair next to wherever Hermione was, asking her what books she was reading and even offering to knit with her. Hermione was so rapt in Ron's new enthusiasm for her that Harry thought she might have forgotten him. It was only when Ron started offering to whisk Hermione away to study together in the library that Harry grew wary. It didn't help that Hermione accepted with such gusto that Harry felt physically sick. Even other people seemed to notice what was going on.
'Don't worry, Harry,' Parvati Patil said to him one day, 'there's more fish in the sea…if you just open your eyes…'
She gave Harry a curious smile as she walked away. Harry thought he could guess what she meant but didn't have the nastiness in him to say he wasn't interested. Instead, Harry took to comforting himself with Crookshanks, who had become increasingly attached to him. Harry spent his common room time rolling balls of string and toy mice across the floor for Crookshanks to chase while Hermione and Ron spent hours in the library.
Hermione did seem to notice something was wrong by the middle of the week. It was Wednesday night, Ron had cancelled Quidditch practice and was instead heading to the library with Hermione. She looked concerned as Harry sat scribbling at his homework.
'Fancy joining us in the library?' she asked half-heartedly.
'No, he's fine by there, aren't you Harry?' Ron called from across the common room.
'Yeah, I'm fine here,' Harry replied without looking up, Go on, three's a crowd.'
'Harry,' Hermione said in a molly coddling voice, 'It isn't like that.'
'Then get going then,' Harry said coldly, 'make it like whatever it is.'
Hermione didn't answer but it was a few moments before she left. Harry looked at his unfinished Potions homework, the inky lines swilling into blurs. He rolled up his parchment and pushed it aside. He had half a mind to nip down to the library and catch them in the act of whatever his mind imagined they were up to. He was feeling too sorry for himself to even do this but decided to go for a walk.
He was barely a few corridors from Gryffindor tower when a strange series of sounds grabbed his attention. One of the empty classrooms on this floor was full of flashes of light. Harry strolled cautiously to the door and peered through. Ginny was inside, shooting blasts of light at one of the walls, which went hazy for a few moments before returning to normal. She caught sight of him and jumped, hiding her wand behind her back as she did.
'Hi, Ginny,' Harry said opening the door, 'What you doing?'
'Oh, this,' she said vaguely, her eyes lifeless and hollow, 'detention…have to clean…make ready…'
'Ready for what?'
'Nothing…go, don't worry.'
'Ginny-'
'Harry!' she yelled suddenly, the life flickering in her eyes, 'Help me! Have to stop…before…too late…cant fight it…fight for me, Harry…'
'Fight who?' Harry asked worryingly, 'Who, Ginny? Tell me.'
But she didn't. Instead, she burst into tears and ran headlong into the wall she was shooting with her wand. Harry stood in amazement as she flew right though it and vanished. Harry raced up and touched the wall; it was solid. Harry couldn't get through. There was only one thing for it.
Harry was out of breath by the time he reached the library. He had sprinted all the way and vaulted Mrs Norris, denying the urge to kick her out of the way. He had to find Ron and Hermione. But they weren't in the library. Harry accosted several people on the way downstairs, desperate to find them. A few were scared, one first-year girl started crying, but eventually someone told him they'd been spotted going outside.
Harry found them, ignoring the pain in his chest as he saw Hermione's arm around the redheaded shoulders, as they walked around the lake. Hermione looked hugely embarrassed as Harry approached and took her arm down quickly.
'Harry, it isn't…Ron was feeling ill…not what it looks-'
'Whatever,' Harry said angrily, 'look, its Ginny…'
And he told them the story. Hermione looked terrified and gasped many times; Ron looked suspiciously calm.
'Probably just imagined it mate,' he said vaguely, 'she probably ran through the door and you thought it was the wall. Anyway, you know how the building changes; maybe only girls can walk through the wall.'
Harry was gob smacked at Ron's lack of concern and even Hermione looked disbelieving at his stance. Harry shrugged at her.
'I'm going to see if I can find her,' Harry said.
'I'll come,' Hermione said quickly, stepping towards Harry.
'No, I don't want to disturb you,' Harry said coolly.
'Please, Harry,' Hermione said quietly, 'Let me come.'
She was staring imploringly at him so he nodded, not quite sure what was going on. Ron was content to stay where he was.
Harry raced back up to the school with Hermione hot on his heels. He was barely through the doors when Hermione grabbed him and dragged him into a broom cupboard.
'Hermione!' Harry yelled, 'What are you-'
'Sssh!' she said placing her finger on his lips, 'I haven't been able to get you alone for days. I have to tell you something. There's nothing going on with me and Ron. You need to understand that. He's just really behind on his work and I'm helping him out. There's nothing funny going on.'
She stepped closer in to Harry. He couldn't see her in the dark but she was very close; her breathing was loud and heavy.
'W-What are you do-doing?' Harry stuttered nervously.
'I've missed you, Harry,' she said softly, 'I tried to get Ron to let you come with us, but he's saying he works better with me on my own. I don't mean to ignore you, I'm just trying to repair the rift, you know.'
She moved in again. Harry was shivering; he could feel her hot breath on his cheek. He was sure his heartbeat was echoing around the cupboard.
'Her-Hermione,' Harry whimpered, 'W-we have to find Gi-Ginny.'
'Mmmm,' she said.
'Now!' Harry said sternly and he stepped past Hermione and opened the broom cupboard door, gasping for breath as he did. Several students wore startled looks when he emerged abruptly; these changed to giggles and incredulous stares as Hermione stepped out behind him flattening her robes. Harry shot her a sniping look and raced up the stairs and into the Gryffindor common room. He stopped in his tracks as the portrait swung open.
'Ginny?' Harry asked totally flummoxed.
'Hi Harry,' she said brightly, though her eyes didn't reflect the feeling in her voice, 'have you been running?'
'How did you get here?' Harry asked.
'Been here ages,' she replied calmly, 'Why?'
Harry just stared at her.
'I saw you in a classroom on the third floor a while ago,' Harry said, 'you vanished through a wall.'
It sounded stupid saying it out loud.
'Nope, sorry Harry,' Ginny said, 'I went to bed for a nap and got up just now. I haven't been anywhere.'
But Harry knew better. Hermione looked a mixture of annoyed and puzzled. Harry knew part of her was thinking he'd cooked up the story to get her away from Ron. Harry had to admit, that's how it looked.
The rest of the week was a nightmare. Ron was angry about Harry taking Hermione away from him and kept making comments like, 'hey Harry, I'm borrowing Hermione for a moment. If anyone vanishes, ask someone else for help, ok?' It wasn't helped by Hermione laughing at half of these comments, and looking sorrowfully at him for the rest.
The worst event came on Halloween. In the morning, notices went up about a Christmas Ball that Dumbledore had decided to put on in the first week of December. It was a morale building event, according to the headmaster, and an inordinate number of students signed up to stay for Christmas. It meant a month of excited chatter, that Harry expected would be much like that which had preceded the Yule Ball two years ago. Harry had one partner in mind but wasn't sure she would go with him. Not when she had so many options.
Hermione revealed that within a week of the announcement going up she had been asked by four different people, all of whom she had politely declined. She had one more admirer, though.
'Well, I'm going to ask her, what do you reckon?' Ron asked Harry as they trudged off the Quidditch pitch.
'Who?' Harry asked, though he would have bet his Firebolt on knowing the answer.
'Hermione of course,' he said, 'Do you reckon I should? I just wanna make sure she doesn't go with anyone else.'
'What?' Harry blurted in shock, 'What do you mean?'
'Well, last time she went with someone else. I want to make sure she doesn't this time. I know…you go with Luna! She's dying to go. She's been telling me all week.'
'You talk to Luna regularly?'
'All the time,' Ron said casually, 'she follows me around. She's ok, a bit loony but ok really. She's been saying she wants to go and wants a date all week. You take her and we can all sit together. It'll be a laugh.'
Harry wasn't convinced and had no intention of asking Luna Lovegood. After all, Hermione would turn down Ron…
Or so Harry thought.
'She said yes!' Ron cried as he caught up with Harry, on Thursday morning before transfiguration.
'What? Who?' Harry said drunkenly.
'Hermione. The Ball? You know? I asked her, she said yes. I knew it!'
'Great. Nice one. Well done,' Harry said in a haughty voice he didn't own. He felt like he had shrunk several feet and his legs were oddly made of iron. This couldn't be happening.
'Harry,' said Hermione's voice behind him, she sounded out of breath, 'Can I talk to you?'
'You've said enough today, I think,' Harry snapped.
'You've seen Ron then.'
'Just then.'
'Let me explain-'
'No, and don't sit with me either. There's a spare seat by your date.'
'Harry! I had to - I had no choice,' Hermione started.
'Rubbish!' Harry shot, 'You had plenty of choice. But have fun won't you. Then again, that's what you've been doing all year, why stop now?'
Harry slammed himself down before Hermione could react. She looked close to tears but Harry looked away from her. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Hermione was spending more time looking over at him than at her work, but he ignored her. He ran straight out after the lesson and spent the rest of the day avoiding her.
In fact, he spent the next few days ignoring her. He didn't even care that Ron had had another chat to himself as he slept that ended with him crying and begging to be let go. But Harry didn't care. He was in so much agony that he was sure he'd implode. His chest felt heavy, he felt constantly sick and was growing tired of having to brush Hermione off wherever he went. On Sunday night, he just gave in.
He was sitting by the common room fire smoothing Crookshanks. The cat gave a nasty look as the portrait hole opened and Hermione came in. She swung her head from side to side, Harry could tell she was looking for him, and when she saw him she marched over and sat in the seat next to him.
'I want to talk,' she said.
'I don't, go find Ron,' Harry hissed.
'Harry, please, let me explain.'
'Explain what?' Harry said, 'Ron asked you, you're going. End of story. Nothing to explain.'
'But I don't want to go with him, you need to know that. The only person I want to go with didn't ask me. I was going to ask him but didn't get round to it…then Ron cornered me.'
'Then why go with him?' Harry asked, the knot in his stomach loosening a little.
'He begged me, he looked so desperate that I just couldn't say no. I wish that-'
'What?'
Harry didn't get to find out what, as the portrait hole opened and Ron entered.
'Hi, date!' he said loudly as he came over, Harry's fist clenched under Crookshanks. Hermione looked liked she could've died. Harry wished he could have.
'You got a date yet Harry?' Ron asked, 'Did you speak to Luna?'
Hermione's head shot round so fast she hurt herself.
'Luna,' she asked, rubbing her neck, you're taking her?'
'Well,' Harry started, he wanted to be cruel and say he was taking her, but he couldn't, 'Ron suggested it…said she wanted to go. I don't think I'll take anyone. I might just turn up and hope for the best. Maybe someone will take pity on me.'
Hermione's eyes turned so round that Harry couldn't tell if she was looking guilty, ashamed or sorrowful. Maybe a mixture of the three. She buried her head in a book from her bag and didn't look up for awhile. Harry could see her scribbling on a bit of parchment. Ron sat by the fire and started to read Flying with the Cannons, which he had borrowed from Harry.
'Do you want to test my answers?' Hermione asked suddenly.
'Sorry?' Harry asked.
'There's a test in this book, can you mark my answers for me?' she asked looking imploringly at him. He took the book reluctantly and found a piece of parchment over the page.
Harry, come outside with me. I really need to speak properly to you. I know you do too.
'You got question one wrong,' Harry said coldly, 'That's just assumption. This subject deals with facts, not what you think you know. I'm going to bed. Night.'
Harry took one last look at Hermione's face, flushed with desperation and walked towards the stairs. His head voluntarily stooped and he didn't have the heart, or the strength, to move it. His eyes were hot and moist but he didn't deny them either. He just hoped no-one would slip on the drops of water he was leaving in his wake.
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