The Trouble With Harry

The Trouble with Harry

Chapter 8: I'm Just Wild About Harry, and Harry's Wild About...Who?!

"Ron!" Harry stood abruptly, knocking Draco from his lap.

As the blond boy stood and dusted himself off, Harry stared after his friend as he disappeared into the shadows towards the castle. "Ron."

He took a step forward to follow but stopped as Draco grabbed his arm. "Harry..."

Harry glared, "I need to go find Ron. Let go."

Draco gasped. He couldn't understand why the other boy's tone was suddenly so angry and urgent. On account of Ron? Harry was going to go after him and then what? Would he...he can't possibly want him. Can he? No, Draco was sure he had won. Harry had kissed back. Harry'd enjoyed it. He had to have won.

"But...but you can't, Harry leave him--."

"Let. go," repeated Harry tugging harshly away from the Slytherin.

"So that's how you want it then?" Draco growled. He released the struggling Harry and gave him a sturdy push, knocking him to the ground.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Draco was already running up the path towards the castle leaving Harry to sit in the wet grass by himself. In the distance he could see Ron disappear into the great double doors of the castle and Draco not much further behind.

Suddenly he didn't feel much like going in anymore. Not with the chance of running into either of those two. Maybe once everyone calmed down and regained their sanity, he could sit down and have a little discussion about everything that had happened. But not right now with his head still spinning from all of the day's events.

He got up off his arse and brushed off his damp robes. Picking up his and Draco's brooms, he made his way to the broom shed. "Great. What about the damn snitch." Harry sighed. It could go splinch itself for all he cared right now. He turned and walked back to the castle.

***

Ron went to his four-poster and pulled the curtains closed around him so roughly as to rip the seams at the top. But he didn't care much as he threw himself down on the bed and buried his face in the pillow.

After he had met Hermione earlier, he had gone down to the dungeons with the hopes of ending the reason for his anger. He reached his destination but to no avail...Malfoy wasn't there, or anywhere. He had then proceeded from the empty dungeons back outside. His mind was working a little clearer and it had occurred to him that he should just talk to Harry...maybe work it out. Maybe convince him. And then he'd found them there. So close. Wrapped around each other and melding together like some horrible disgusting creature of his nightmares. He had felt so sick then.

And worse he knew it meant the end of everything. He and Harry had been through so much together. Their friendship had survived so much over the years...jealousies, misunderstandings, Voldemort...but it couldn't survive something like this. It was all over.

All desires to kill Malfoy were now forgotten. All he wanted now was to die himself. Sure, suffocating himself with the pillow was a good start. But he needed to do better. He threw open the curtain and made his way to Harry's trunk. He whispered the password, he and Hermione were the only ones other than Harry himself who knew it, and the latch came undone.

He opened it and began to rummage about. He found Harry's dress robes, his sneak-a-scope, the old socks that Dobby had got him for Christmas that one year, some other random bits of junk...but not what he was looking for. He pulled out the invisibility cloak and the photo album. Ron's eyes went misty as he recalled all the times Harry and he had shared underneath that cloak, all the trouble they'd gotten into. How he wished he could feel that way again...just friends, best friends. Ron sat on the floor and opened the album.

There were the pictures of Harry's parents, Harry as a baby, and Sirius and Remus. As Ron turned further he felt a lump grow in his throat. There they were, the three of them, Hermione, Harry and him. Some pictures he remembered Colin Creevey taking, at the Yule Ball, the night after the OWLs, trips to Hogsmeade, on the platform at Hogsmeade Station on the last day. Others he couldn't recall, just snapshots of their time at Hogwarts.

There was one on the last page. Ron remembered it had been taken just this past summer, at the Burrow. It was of just the two of them. He was mugging for the camera, probably at the encouragement of the Twins, and Harry was grinning happily at him. It didn't move, Ginny had taken it with their father's new muggle camera, but it didn't need to. Ron could see how happy they had been.

They had their arms around each other's shoulders. The light in Harry's eyes shone bright, free of the weight they had previously held before the Dark Lord's defeat. The dark haired boy may have still worn that war-stained visage in his sleep but that was something that could heal, now that they had the chance to be happy. Ron would have helped him. They could have been happy.

Ron slammed the book shut and stuffed it back in the trunk along with the rest of Harry's things. He still hadn't found what he was looking for. Where is it? He pushed himself up off the floor and walked to Harry's bedside table. Pulling open the drawer, he fumbled through papers and quills until he felt something cold and metal. He pulled out the small penknife and held in gently in his grip. It was the one Sirius had given Harry for Christmas fourth year. He took it to his bed and sat down pulling the curtains shut around him once more.

***

Draco ran through the Slytherin common room ignoring the curious looks thrown his way as he went up the stairs to his dormitory. He slammed the door shut and slumped down against it burying his face in his hands. He didn't cry, just breathed deeply in an attempt to calm himself, lest something very bad became of his and his roommates' things.

When finally he felt he was composed enough to refrain from tearing the bed hangings to shreds, overturning everyone's trunks, throwing their personal belongings about the room and stomping on them, he got up off the floor and sat down on his bed. At that moment Crabbe and Goyle opened the door. "Draco, could we..." The words trailed off as Crabbe saw the look on his friend's face. He grabbed Goyle and hauled him out of the room as quickly as he could muster, closing the door once more behind him.

Draco, glowered at the door, picked up the handiest thing and hurled it. The alarm clock shattered at it hit the wood, blaring loudly before dying. Draco fell back on his bed and glared at the ceiling, feeling not the slightest bit better for his fit of destructiveness.

This is all Weasley's fault. He always ruins all my fun. But then, he supposed, Harry played a role too. He should have chosen Draco. That hurt a bit. Rejected twice. And here was the one person he thought was worthy of him...and God, he'd told the boy that he liked him and actually admired him. How embarrassing. And there was that whole passionate tongueing and groping thing as well. How could Harry do this to him after they'd done that with each other? And after I told him I trusted him, thought Draco indignantly.

Was Harry some kind of mental case? What could have possessed him to make such a stupid decision? Maybe facing Voldemort all those times addled his brain. The choice was a pretty obvious one. If you were mine Harry, I'd give you everything. The world. But then how could you give the world to someone who was already practically making final payments on it. No, not even that...handed to him on a platter. A gold-plated, diamond encrusted platter with galleon garnishing. Harry had everything he could ever ask for--riches, fame, friends, intelligence...looks.

Ah, but he doesn't have you, does he Draco? Draco scowled. "But he doesn't want me. That's the whole problem idiot." Draco sighed. This whole thing was even starting to affect his sanity. He was already talking to himself. What next, pull out a knife and start carving Harry's initials into his arm? Oh, Harry. See what you do to me? Why do you want to deny me so much?

Maybe Weasley had given Harry a love potion or cursed him with some kind of lust spell? That could be the only explanation. Why else would Harry have let the boy kiss him? And Ron was just the kind of desperate prat to attempt something like that. Draco ground his teeth in disdain. And why didn't I think of it first.

But he had to admit the idea was somewhat far-fetched. A better explanation was that Harry just liked stupid people. He wanted someone beneath him. And not in the kind of way that would make Draco happy. "Well if that's what he wants then he can have Weasley. See if I care," he sniffed. Not bothering to change out of his clothes, he rolled over and slipped off into sleep, knowing full well that in the morning he would indeed care very much.

***

Harry climbed into the common room to find it empty except for Neville sitting alone on the couch in front of the fire. He walked over and dropped down next to the boy throwing his head back against the cushion and closing his eyes with a miserable groan.

"Oh Harry. Where have you been? Everyone was looking for you. Are you okay?"

Harry lifted his head and looked to Neville, "Yeah. It's been a long long long day."

"Looks like it. We can reschedule that little chat if you want. You look pretty tired."

Harry looked confused for a moment but then smile, "Oh, I'd forgotten. No that's okay. I don't think I could get to bed right now anyhow. Too much on my mind."

"Like what?"

Harry gave him a scrutinizing glance. Neville blushed slightly, "Oh, I'm sorry! It's none of my business."

"No, that's okay. I can trust you I think. You can't tell anyone okay?"

"I won't. I promise."

"Alright. It's a long story really..." Harry explained the situation to him.

Neville listened with a mixture of disbelief and interest until Harry finished.

"You're kidding. Ron and Malfoy?"

Harry nodded.

Neville chuckled. "That's so odd. I wouldn't have ever guessed."

"Yeah, I know. He was trying to tell me today. That's why he asked me out onto the grounds. And that's where it starts to get weird."

"You mean weirder."

Harry nodded resignedly. He spilled the rest of the tale to Neville who listened attentive and wide-eyed.

"So now they both like you instead?"

Harry shook his head. "That's what I thought at first. I'll admit that I sort of wanted it too. It would do wonders for my ego. And I actually liked kissing Draco...though it was a bit odd with Ron. It was a good kiss, but he's almost like my brother."

Neville nodded. Harry looked up at him and smiled. "You must think I'm a right freak telling you all this."

"No, of course I don't Harry. I can't say I'm not a little confused, but I'm happy to listen if it makes you feel better."

"Thanks Neville, and here I'm meant to be the one listening and making you feel better."

"That's okay Harry. This is actually quite interesting. So you don't think they like you then? Even after they kissed you?"

"No. Ron was trying to make Draco jealous. I realize that now. I think he must have seen Malfoy behind that tree so he grabbed me and kissed me. The same with Malfoy. He spotted Ron in the stands and decided he'd try to get him riled up. I guess it's how they flirt. I think they get off on the pent up sexual tension or whatever. It's starting to wear on my nerves."

"Why's that Harry?"

"Well, this thing they have going, they're just oblivious to the rest of the world. I mean they're doing things not caring who they hurt in the process. I mean did they think about how I might feel?"

"Ok, then how do you feel Harry?"

"Confused! So terribly confused. It's like the whole goddamn world has gone nutters. Two people who hate me--."

"Ron doesn't hate you Harry."

"Well he's sure been acting like it lately. Anyhow two people who despise me to various degrees suddenly decide to up and snog me silly on the same day. Within two hours of each other as a matter of fact. And it doesn't even have anything to do with me. I feel used."

Neville chuckled and Harry scowled at him.

"It's all right Harry. Chin up. I'm sure they didn't mean to make you feel that way."

"Yeah but they did. I was actually feeling guilty. I was feeling guilty for kissing Draco when I knew how Ron felt about him. I was ready to apologize and beg his forgiveness, but it was just some elaborate play all along. They should be apologizing to me really. I should be mad at them for pulling me into their little game and tearing my heart into little pieces and making me feel so completely insane. What right have they to trample all over me like this and just because they happen to be in luuurve."

Neville gave him a disapproving look. "You've no need to be all sardonic about it. Love is a beautiful thing."

"Is it? I wouldn't know." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

"Well when you experience it for yourself you'll know."

Harry thought for a moment about the kiss he'd shared with Malfoy. That felt kind of like how he supposed love would feel. But then it wasn't real. But he could do to get another taste of that sort of thing. But with who? Ron had staked his claim on Malfoy already. Who was there to love him like that?

"But it does you no good to sit and complain about Ron and Malfoy's relationship. My advice would be to just keep out of it," said Neville kindly.

"You know you sound like Hermione."

"That's not such a bad thing. She's a smart witch."

"And you're a smart wizard."

Neville blushed. "Thanks."

"I will stay out of it. I just wish they'd stop flaunting it and being so obvious. It's not all about them." He scowled in his petulance.

Neville raised an eyebrow. "Harry Potter, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."

"Of them? Nu-uh. They can have their little love affair. They could get married and buy a home together in the suburbs with a picket fence and a monogrammed doormat for all I care."

"Yes I can see that. Not jealous at all. Not one bit."

Harry smiled slightly at the boy. "Okay. Maybe just a tiny bit."

Hermione came down the steps into the common room and took a seat on the couch. "Hi guys. What are you talking about?"

"Just Harry's love life," said Neville giving her a smile.

"Really? What's that?" said Hermione.

"My sentiments exactly," said Harry broodingly.

"Don't worry Harry. There are millions of people out there who would love to go out with you. You just have to know where to look."

"And maybe you could draw me a map to this magical place?"

"I believe you already have one, by certain somebody's going by the name 'The Marauders'."

"Oh that's clever. Thank you Hermione. You're so very helpful."

"I try."

"But I really haven't had much luck at Hogwarts if you haven't noticed. And that map doesn't tell me what certain people are thinking unfortunately."

Neville and Hermione both looked puzzled

"What are you talking about? Map?"

"Oh, I'll tell you later Neville."

"Which 'certain' people?" asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head. "Nevermind."

Hermione for once decided not to press the issue, opting to change the subject instead. "So have you seen Ron Harry? I saw him storming through the castle after dinner. Did something happen?"

Harry and Neville shared a look and Harry sighed. "I'm really tired Hermione. I'll tell you tomorrow okay?"

Hermione bit her lip but again let it go. Her resolve to stay out of matters concerning her best friends' relationship was trying her will power terribly. "Well alright Harry. Are you going to bed now?"

Harry nodded. "Goodnight Hermione. Neville."

"How about you Neville? Want to talk for a bit? I'm not so tired yet," asked Hermione looking to relieve some of her frustration with a nice little chat up.

Neville nodded. "Yeah sure. Goodnight Harry."

Harry turned to go up the stairs leaving the other two behind. He went into the dorm and fell back into his bed with a tired sigh. Turning his head towards Ron's bed, he frowned. The kiss, or rather kisses wouldn't leave his mind. He went over his theory once again, ignoring the glaring gaps in his logic and settling into his bad mood. He decided he would avoid Ron for a bit until the red head had sorted out his affair. And he would stay far away from Draco; he didn't want to find himself attracted again. No point pining after something he couldn't have. He went to put his glasses on the night table, briefly noting the open drawer. After pulling the window open, he got into his pajamas, finally burying himself in the soft duvet of his bed as he sunk back into slumber.