The Trouble With Harry

The Trouble With Harry

Chapter 9: The Eight-Fold Path…Please, Enlighten Me

The morning came upon the grounds and spires of Hogwarts bright and warm. It promised to be a pleasant day for the general population of castle. Harry liked to count himself amongst those folks and he looked forward to a beautiful, chaos-free day. Waking early he’d had a long shower before heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast with Hermione, Neville and the other Gryffindors. Considering everything that had happened the previous day, he was in a good mood. He’d had time to think things over during his shower and things became clearer as the warm water ran over his skin massaging his stiff, tense muscles, washing the worry from his thoughts as he began to relax into the flow.

Last night’s events had settled down in his head quite comfortably and orderly. After a good night’s sleep, he could take the situation on and his mind was fully awake to his options. He’d made his decision there in the shower. To just stay as far away from the problem as he could get and to actively show his support for Ron when the boy started talking to him again.

It was a simple solution and now that he had taken care of that, he could take care of himself. If any good had come of the whole mess, he mused, it was that he at least knew what he wanted now. He knew the kind of feeling and relationship he sought. Having identified it he could set his sights to actually finding it.

“Have a good night Harry?”

Harry looked up from the bowl of oatmeal he’d been picking at for the past ten minutes. “Yeah. Great,” he replied in a chipper voice, gracing his friend with a lop-sided smile.

Neville nodded. “That’s good. Have you talked to Ron yet?”

“No.” He looked around the table. “Where is he anyway?”

Seamus paused in his conversation with Dean and turned to the boys, “Oh, he hasn’t got up yet. He was still in bed when me and Dean came down.”

Harry frowned.

“Don’t worry Harry. I’m sure he’s fine,” said Neville.

Nodding, he turned his head slightly to look across the hall. Much as he’d anticipated, he found Draco Malfoy staring at him, scowling at him in a most unpleasant manner. He knew there would be a period of resentment. He had kissed Ron with Draco standing right there after all. And of course Ron wouldn’t be talking to him for a bit because of what he did with Draco. But Harry wouldn’t let that bother him. They would get over it soon enough. He sighed, his good mood slightly diminished, and got up with Hermione to get to class.

***

Hermione left the library and hurried down the hall. She had spent the better part of the evening studying for the Charms NEWT with Harry and Neville. It was getting late and she had left them there to go over her Arithmancy notes in the dorm. She also wanted to check on Ron.

He hadn’t show up for any of their classes and Hermione was beginning to worry. Harry still hadn’t told her what had happened between them last night. But he did tell her that when he had headed back to the dorm, Dean and Seamus had assured him that Ron was all right and had just been too exhausted to come down from their room. Harry confirmed this when he went to the dorm and found Ron’s curtains still drawn. Hermione herself didn’t feel reassured by this information.

There had to be something wrong and it had to do with Harry. He’d also mentioned that he found some of his things shuffled around and he suspected Ron. Hermione could tell he too was worried, but he would never confront his friend. No, that was up to her. She reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Just as she began to mumble the password the portrait swung open and someone barreled into her causing her to loose the books she held in her arms.

“Oh, sorry Hermione. I didn’t see you,” said Ron before he turned to walk down the hall.

“Wait! Ron!”

Ron turned to her once more. “What?”

“Where have you been? You missed all your classes. The NEWTs are coming up and you haven’t done any studying. You haven’t been yourself. Is something wrong?”

Ron scowled. “No. Of course not. What could possibly be wrong? As much as I appreciate the concern, you might try minding your own business Hermione.”

His harsh tone did nothing to dissuade Hermione as she pressed further. “Does this have to do with Harry, Ron? You know I…I know what’s been coming between you two lately. I’ve known for a long time. You can tell me. Maybe I could—.”

“Whatever it is you think you know Hermione, it doesn’t come close to the truth. Maybe you don’t realize this, but you don’t know everything. And you would do best to keep out of what you don’t fucking know about!” He quickly turned to leave again.

“Ron, do you know what happened to Harry’s knife?!” Hermione called to his back.

Ron stopped in his tracks and turned around. “W-what knife?”

“The one he got from Sirius, it’s missing,” she said shrewdly as she watched his face.

His eyes went wide. “But I put it back! I mean...er...No why would I know where it is?” He fidgeted on his spot knowing he’d been found out.

“Ron. Why did you take his knife without asking?” she asked with concern.

“How did he know?” He looked down at his feet as he spoke softly, his brow knit with worry.

“It was supposed to be in his drawer. He saw that his drawer was open last night and he checked it this morning and couldn’t find it. He finally found it in his trunk. He didn’t put it there and I know I didn’t put it there so…”

“Cripes…I forgot.”

“Why did you have it Ron? Harry told me about what happened yesterday,” she lied, “You haven’t been acting yourself lately.”

“He told you?” said Ron with surprise. “So you know. Did he tell anyone else?” he asked picking at the buttons of his robe nervously.

Hermione shook her head. “No I don’t think so. Ron maybe if you told me—.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said with finality.

“But Ron you weren’t thinking of…well the knife. He said there was blood on it.”

“No. I wasn’t. Leave me alone Hermione.”

“But Ron, I just want to—.”

“I said leave me the fuck alone! It’s none of you goddamn business!” he screamed, leveling a look of disgust her way.

“Well fine! If that’s how you’re going to be!” She sniffed with frustration and hurried through the portrait hole sticking her glaring head out again only a moment later. “And I got your homework for you. You can come get it when you’re ready,” she said curtly before disappearing again.

As Hermione closed the portrait, Ron groaned and let’s his head slump against the wall, letting the cool of the slab penetrate his throbbing head. He couldn’t tell whether the ache was from the bump he’d got in detention or just from all the stress and pent up feelings and whatnot. He’d got up early with a headache and it just went on the rest of the day even as he lay with his eyes closed on his bed spread. Sighing to himself, he slouched down to the floor. How dare she! How could she think that about him? And Harry…what was he doing telling everybody what had happened? Granted, Hermione wasn’t everybody, but still. It had been between them. And now they thought…

What was he thinking anyhow, putting the knife back in the wrong place. They probably all thought he was some kind of suicidal maniac by now. The thought had entered his mind last night, and that was the reason he’d taken the knife in the first place, but he wasn’t going to actually do it. He could be rash at times, but he wouldn’t do that. Of course it didn’t help that he had been noticeably out of sorts recently. And there was blood on it, what else were his friends to think? If only he’d had the presence of mind to put the thing away before he fell asleep last night. Then he wouldn’t have rolled over and stabbed himself in the arm by accident. And why hadn’t he bothered to clean it off? I’m such a moron. How could I be so daft? He sighed. But what could he do. Rubbing his arm, he pushed off the wall and took off towards the kitchens to make up for his missed meals.

***

The next week passed quickly. To Ron’s confusion, Harry and Draco didn’t seem any closer than usual. In fact Harry seemed to be distancing himself from the boy, and the glares that Draco threw Harry’s way were sour enough to curdle milk. Of course they weren’t half as bad as the glares he threw Ron’s way, but still…it was odd behavior for lovers. It somehow didn’t make Ron a bit happy. He felt relived somewhat, and gratified to a point, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel good about it. But then Harry was ignoring him too so he didn’t have much to be happy about. Actually all his friends had become a little distanced recently. He couldn’t figure out if it was by his own hand, he had been distancing himself from the group a bit, or whether it was because they were all mad at him or something. Or maybe Harry had told them and they thought he was a terrible person now. Whatever the reason was, more and more he found himself alone. At the breakfast table, in the library, in the common room…it was depressing.

And the stupid dreams wouldn’t stop hounding him. It would be him and Harry and they would be kissing and kissing deeper and they’d peel off their shirts and they’d run their hands all over each other and whisper things in each other’s ears sucking and kissing and licking and…it made Ron shiver whenever he thought about it. Every morning now he’d wake up to find himself wet with sweat in a messy tangle of sheets breathing hard and feeling somewhat ill. He could barely stand it any longer. His only consolation was that Draco didn’t seem to be doing much better.

The blond Slytherin was withdrawn. He didn’t bother Harry and his friends in the halls or in class. He chose instead only to sit and glare, always glaring. He didn’t even talk to his friends anymore. He didn’t bother to get up early. He couldn’t even manage to keep his hair neat some days. Ron didn’t know anyone could be so disagreeable. He was lonely and miserable and angry too, but even he didn’t go around scowling all the goddamn time. All Malfoy would ever do was sit and scowl not even bothering to smirk or sneer any more. Only scowl and glare. He didn’t even eat breakfast as busy as he was shooting daggers in Harry’s direction, though he must have been making up for it sometime because the boy didn’t seem to get any skinnier than his already slight frame. Harry didn’t seem to notice at all. But Ron did. And it made him wonder why.

Draco himself still hadn’t gotten over the anger and disappointment. He tried not to care, knowing that this was affecting him more than it logically should. It was only Harry Potter after all. Only Potter. Maybe a hero and wonderful and desirable to everyone else, but just Potter to him. Sometimes, when he was alone in his room without the raven-haired boy in sight, he could actually nearly convince himself it was true. But Draco’s will power was ultimately no match for Harry’s overwhelming presence when Draco saw him in class, during meals, or in the halls. He really shouldn’t have been torturing himself like he was, every day, over a lousy Gryffindor. There were plenty of other people around…ones that would kill to be with him, ones that would never reject him. But he was too upset to care. Too hurt to let it go and too angry to try again. And he too was having the dreams. The dreams where he would take Harry to his room and hold him in his arms and do all kinds of things with him. It was all so sweet and perfect and real, until he’d wake up and find himself face down in one of his school books in the common room or alone in his bed. Like Ron, his only consolation was that Harry didn’t seem to be with anyone else. He ignored Weasley and spent all his time with Granger. That was only of limited comfort though. Harry still wouldn’t look at him. And if he did it would only be fleeting. It made Draco even angrier. That Harry could ignore him when he himself could hardly keep his eyes off the other boy. He had even taken to following Harry around, trailing a good distance behind him during the times in between classes, in the halls, and ducking behind statues and into the shadows to witness as Harry stopped to tie his shoe or get a drink of water.

Or he’d follow Ron instead just to be sure he wasn’t sneaking off to a secret meeting with Harry. It was tiring work. And it was tiring being so angry and frustrated. And Draco was just tired. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop feeling the way he did. And it was wearing him down. And it was wearing Ron down. And Harry tried not to notice.

***

“Harry, it’s been a week and a half. Will you tell me now what happened? Please, I’ve been patient and it’s straining my nerves. I’ve seen how you and Ron are acting with each other. I know something happened.”

Harry sighed. Hermione and he were sitting together near the lake. It was a warm day so they could hardly help but be drawn outside to bask in the afternoon sun. It was one of those days when there was nothing to do but talk to your friends and lay about. But Harry hadn’t anticipated this attack. Hermione had been disrupting his peace for the past five minutes with her pleas and threats, for him to tell her what had happened that day with Ron. He should have known better than to let her get him alone. He avoided it all week but now he had no choice but to give in, though he really didn’t feel like going back over the occurrence once again. It had been over and done with and he’d gotten over the guilt and the confusion. Though he still did feel somewhat bad. Ron and Draco hadn’t gotten any better.

They were both ignoring him and each other and everyone in general. Ron had got back into his regular schedule and joined everyone for meals, partially quelling some of the fears that finding the knife had brought up in Harry. But his friend still wasn’t talking to him. And he seemed out of it and didn’t appear to sleep particularly well, evidenced by the dark circles that underlined his eyes. Draco seemed strained as well. It didn’t bode well for a quick resolution to the situation.

Harry had thought that maybe Ron and Draco would have been officially together by the end of the week and he could congratulate them and share in their happiness and show what a good friend he was and how much he cared. But it didn’t happen. Remembering just who he was talking about, he figured there would be nothing so smooth about this relationship. Both the boys had the propensity to be overly dramatic and emotional, and they did seem to thrive on that love-hate thing they shared.

Now that he thought about it though, they both seemed to have distanced themselves from each other over the past week. All their fighting had completely ceased. They no longer insulted each other or even threw things at each other. Considering what Harry knew, it was worrisome. He really did want them to be happy, and now he was worried.

“Please Harry!”

“All right, all right,” he said shaking himself from his thoughts.

Hermione sat in rapt attention, like a little girl waiting for a bedtime story, as Harry told her about the whole ordeal. Her face contorted with surprise, excitement, and confusion as he went on, finally settling on worry as he finished. Her brow furrowed in thought.

“So that’s it. That’s why Ron’s not talking to me and Draco keeps glaring at me.” Harry took a deep breath and laid back heavily in the grass. “I don’t understand what’s happening between them now though. I think something went wrong.”

Hermione worried at a fallen twig in her hand. The situation had obviously gotten further out of control than she ever thought it would, and that was defiantly too far. She bit her lip and looked to Harry lying there on the ground. “Umm…Harry I need to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

“Well…” she hesitated for a moment, but Harry really had proved much more dense than she ever thought he could be. If she didn’t tell him now he would apparently never find out. “You’re wrong Harry. Your whole ‘theory’ is wrong. Ron doesn’t want Draco. He wants you.” She waited for a reaction but Harry only closed his eyes and continued to just lie there.

“Er, Harry did you hear me? I said Ron’s in love with you. Malfoy too. Are you listening?”

Harry opened his eyes, the green all burning and lovely in the noonday sun. “I heard you. You’re wrong.”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I’m positive. I’ve seen how he looks at you Harry. How they look at you. That and Ron talks in his sleep sometimes…he falls asleep in the common room whenever we study down there while you’re at practice and I heard him well…talk about you. It’s been going on for at least two years I think. I wasn’t so sure about Malfoy before, but I’m sure now, after what happened. He likes you as well.”

Harry sat up and shook his head. “But Ron and Draco…they were always fighting…the insults.”

“Actually I think they genuinely do just hate each other Harry. And you might have played a part as well.”

“You mean they were fighting over me?”

Hermione nodded.

“And all this odd behavior, all the weird things they’ve been saying and doing…it’s been because of me?”

“I think so.”

Harry put his head in his hands and groaned. “Oh no,” he looked up to the girl next to him. “Hermione, why didn’t you tell me? This is such a mess.”

Hermione sputtered, ”I—I tried to! In the library, you wouldn’t let me get a word in. Besides I thought you’d be perceptive enough to pick it up on your own. I was apparently wrong.”

Harry glared at her a moment and looked down at his hands. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t I see it? Was it really so obvious?”

“Maybe you just weren’t looking for it. Maybe you just didn’t want it to be true, to save yourself the trouble so you ignored it and got caught up in some idea you made up for yourself.”

Harry nodded. “I guess that could be it.”

“Or you could just be really thick.”

He scowled at her once again and let out a humorless laugh. “So. You mean I really could have had Draco after all?”

Hermione shrugged. “Maybe. At the expense of Ron anyhow. It would have killed him. I think you already broke his heart as it is.”

“Thank you Hermione. You know I hadn’t felt quite guilty enough yet,” he snorted.

“Why,” she looked at him evenly, “did you want Malfoy?”

Harry turned from her gaze. Hermione arched an eyebrow as a slight smirk formed on her face.

“But I suppose it doesn’t matter now anyhow. It’s too late.” He frowned at the blades of grass as he ran his fingers through the lawn. “So what do I do now?”

Hermione shrugged once again. “I guess there’s not much you can do. I think that if you actually had been considering Malfoy then this is for the best. The best for Ron and the best for you.”

Harry frowned in disappointment, knowing that what Hermione said was ultimately the truth. He would have lost Ron if he had actually started something with Draco. And he loved Ron too much to lose him. No matter how good Draco’s lips had felt on his. But he could have loved Draco. He knew it. And he felt bad for hurting him. And Ron. All the things that had happened in the past week, the past few weeks even, suddenly clicked in Harry’s mind and an overwhelming sense of guilt settled into him as everything finally made sense. All the fights, the detentions, the words, the angry stares and the confusing actions all brought to a head that day, they all made sense now. But that didn’t matter anymore.

“You still have to deal with it though. I guess you could talk to Ron. But I don’t see you two having a conversation any time soon. Give it some time. A few more days. Then you can straighten this out with him and be friends again. I think he’ll understand. You hurt him and he can be stubborn when he’s hurt, but he’s your friend and he’ll understand eventually,” said Hermione reassuringly.

Harry sighed. “Right. What about Draco then?”

“I don’t know what you could do about him. You could have a talk with him too but I suspect he won’t be very cooperative. I guess it’s just go back to the way things were. You hate him and he hates you.”

“He hates me. God, that sounds terrible. I really don’t think I can hate him now. I actually felt something there on the pitch when I was with him. Maybe not love exactly, but…god I can’t hate him now. Not anymore. But I guess there’s nothing I can do. I’ll try though. I’ll try to make things right with the both of them. I wish I had known sooner.” He threw a pointed look at Hermione, which she chose to ignore, and sighed miserably. “It will come all right in the end though. I hope.”

Hermione nodded sadly as they both sat back to watch the sun’s rays cast golden ripples across the face of the lake.