Trapped in the Wake of a Dream

Sitting in the common room on a cold December night, Ron, Hermione and Harry worked late on their schoolwork. Harry felt rather independent this way, no parents or curfews. It was independence he enjoyed. But then, he had never felt really 'protected' in his life, nor taken care of. He didn't mind too much, though, because he was an independent person to begin with. Only one place to Harry had ever been home. There was no place he would rather be than in the company of his two friends. Even if they were working on Potions.

"Fuck..." groaned Ron impatiently. "Since when did I care what happens when you add two drops of this to a cauldron full of that? I don't know why we keep up potions anyway, it's a bloody waste of time if you ask me." He stared blankly at his parchment and with even more ineptness at his textbook.

"Ron, I don't care what you want to do with your life, but I'll bet you'll need potions. Just don't be so deploring! If we don't get this assignment finished, we could get detention, or worse, bad marks." Hermione scowled. "It's already eleven thirty. The later it gets, the poorer the quality of the assignments."

"Yeah, yeah, keep your head on. We're working." Looking around aimlessly, Ron seemed almost looking for an excuse to skive off his homework. Hermione drove him almost bonkers, but still, there was something about the way her hair glinted in the firelight. It was almost hypnotizing. He shook his head and looked away. "Actually, you know what?" said Ron, yawning. "My quality is horrible at this time of night. I'm turning in."

Hermione looked appalled. She stood up on her feet and walked up to him, standing with her feet almost touching his. He looked down to see her soft white socks almost touching his usual grey ones. It felt rather nice, he realized, to be so close to Hermione that he could literally feel her breath on him.

"Ron!" she cried, dragging him out of his thoughts. She didn't seem to notice his dazed expression. "You have to have this finished by tomorrow! We have Potions after breakfast! Hasn't the planner I bought you done any good at all?" Despite her words, he could almost see a smile on her face. He must have imagined it, though, because she was looking the way she always did, at least, the way she always did when he hadn't done his homework: reproachful.

"Yeeaaah..." he replied, dragging out his words. "I guess you're right-" He yawned. "but I'm so bloody tired..." She ignored his complaints and placed another book in front of him, a small smirk playing on her lips. "This one might help your subject, I'm not sure." He glanced down at it. It was titled, "The Guide to Potion-Making when the Potion-Maker Lacks Any Resemblance of Talent or Skill."

"Funny sense of humour, this one," he said irritably, pointing at her. "The title sounds like something Snape would say. Plus, you are insinuating that I suck at Potions." As he said this, he realized it was true. Ron looked a bit put out by this. His friends seemed to notice this as well, and didn't reply. Hermione, however, said something on a completely new topic.

"Harry, why aren't you speaking? It's not like you're working yourself to the dogs, but you do seem to be getting your homework done just the same. Its just, you seem very distant these days, you'll hardly say a word." It almost seemed as though she had crossed an invisible line by saying all this. Both she and Ron had noticed Harry's change in attitude and presence, but without words they had all agreed not to bring it up. However, curiosity and concern took root in her. Hermione was a caring friend, and couldn't do nothing when Harry seemed so desolate.

Harry looked as though he was calculating his words very carefully and replied slowly. "Well.. I'm not unhappy with either of you guys. I'm not unhappy in general. I just have a lot on my mind. I can't stop thinking, and well, thinking so much doesn't leave much room for talking." He finished these couple of sentences with a swig of pumpkin juice he had conjured up. Sixth year was so much better than those before it solely because you learned practical magic, for everyday uses.

"Does it ... Does it have anything to do with Sirius, Harry?" Hermione asked timidly. Harry stiffened up at the sound of Sirius's name, then relaxed.

"Actually, no. Well," he said the next words in a rush, "I have something to tell you. I..." He looked down with embarrasment, but quickly controlled himself. "I'm gay."

Ron leapt backwards, knocking over his chair and sending quills, parchment and textbooks everywhere. The parchment he had been working on his Potions with landed neatly on the fire and curled up, reduced to cinders. He hardly even noticed this. "You're WHAT?"

Hermione hit him very hard in the arm. "Bloody hell, Ron!" she said furiously. "You're useless." And with that, she turned away from Ron and did not address him again. Ron looked properly ashamed of himself, and she seemed particularily satisfied.

As Hermione turned away from him, she faced Harry and gave him a hug. Harry looked surprised, but didn't say anything, and just hugged her back. They didn't say anymore, nor felt they needed to at that time.Hermione desperately wanted to get away from Ron, but felt as though she would be rude to just leave Harry after he said something like that.

"Um," Harry said awkwardly, "Now that that's done with, I'm going to head up to bed now." His voice trailed off as he picked up his books and without a backwards glance he hurried up to the dormitories and shut the door.

Once he had left, Hermione felt no shame in immediately picking up her things as well and heading off to the girls dormitories without a backwards glance at Ron.

Ron sat there, feeling guilty for both his reaction and because he hated having Hermione mad at him. But most of all, he felt bad for the way he treated his best mate. Ron knew he needed to go up to the dormitories and talk to Harry. Sighing and yawning exhaustedly, he gathered what was left of his things and trudged up the stairs.

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"Harry?" Ron called towards his four poster. "Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm here Ron," Harry said, almost sadly.

"Look..." Ron started, running his hand through his own hair and

sitting on the end of Harry's bed. "I don't give a damn if you're gay, I mean, I'm not, so it'll be all the better if you don't fancy me..." he sort of trailed off.

"But you don't care?" replied an astounded Harry. He sounded disbelieving. He lay back in a dead sort of fashion and pulled the blankets up around him, still surveying Ron in an odd sort of way.

"No, I don't," said Ron softly. "Not at all." He said this with such conviction, in such a way, that it was impossible not to believe him.

Harry grinned.

"Ha! As if I'd fancy you." He laughed. Ron looked almost offended for a moment.

"Not good enough for you?" he asked, but smiled all the same. He was glad to still be on good terms with Harry, at least. He still didn't know why his sort-of row with Hermione had bothered him so much. They'd fought before, why was it bothering him so much now? Because she was right? Or because only moments before, she had been so close to him, he almost wanted to reach out and touch her...

No! "Gah," he thought to himself. "What was I thinking! I only like her as a friend!" But his conscience was nagging him and he knew that wasn't true. His stomach churned with the thought of dealing with his own feelings. He scrunched up his face a bit and looked away, trying to forget, at least for the moment.

"Of course you're good enough for me, Ron! Jesus... but only in a friendly sort of way." There was a smirk present in Harry's smile. It seemed almost to Ron as though he were going to say more, but he didn't.

"Wait..." Ron said, connecting the dots. "You already have someone in mind!" Mild surprise and amusement was cast upon his face.

"No!" Harry replied quickly. "Well, I don't have anyone in mind, or that I'd date. But I have realized I have an odd taste."

"I'd say." Ron said, laughing.

"Not GUYS! I mean, like... the type of guys I find attractive." Harry blushed and looked away.

"Oooh, have a crush on Crabbe and Goyle now?" Ron joked, shuddering at the thought.

"Ew, no. Not Slyth-" He stopped himself. This wasn't exactly true. Ron seemed not to notice this pause. He thought to himself for a minute before replying.

"Well Harry, I know you're gay, and don't fancy me. All in a day, eh? I'm off to bed." He climbed off of Harry's bed and over to his own, shutting the hangings to get changed in peace. He pulled the covers over him and, quite unaffected by the days events, fell asleep within minutes.

Harry fell asleep fairly soon too, probably because they were both guys, and don't think about their problems nearly as much as girls do. What can be sorted out in the morning, will be.

Waking up early, Ron got up and put his robes on before anyone else in the dorm, having planned this almost in his sleep. He would go talk to Hermione, then go down for an early breakfast. He sighed as he got dressed. There were so many things on his mind, he could hardly bear it. Most of them revolved around Hermione. He really did care about her, he could see it in himself. He shook his head and walked out of the dormitory.

Pausing at the bottom of the steps, he remembered boys weren't allowed in the girl's rooms. He wondered what he should do.

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Tossing and turning all night, Hermione slept very badly. She was happy to know Harry had trusted her - and Ron, despite the git he was being - with his secret. Whether Harry wanted to sleep with guys, girls or dragons, it mattered not to her, she realy couldn't care less. But something else was bothering her... what was it? She had probed her own mind for information the night before, and nothing she had come up with had made sense. She wondered if maybe, she liked Harry, and part of her was bothered by the fact that she really had no chance with him. Coming up with no definite conclusions, she turned her brain off the best she could, and drifted off.

The next morning she woke up quite early for some reason. Her instinct that told her to get up and get dressed. She had no idea why, it was still a half hour before she ever thought of getting up. However, Hermione knew she was a smart girl, and so listened to her gut. She pulled on her robes, pulled back her hair and headed out of the room. At the top of the stairs, she ran into Ron.

"Ron!" she gasped. "How did you get up here? You're not allowed in the girls dormitories!"

"I've always thought that was a dumb, biased rule anyway," he muttered, but he was smiling. "I decided a flying charm would lift me over the stairs, it worked, and here I am." He grinned. She grinned back.

"Listen, Herm... I know I acted like a real prat to Harry last night, but you must know he and I talked, and it's all good now. Really." He smiled in a serious way this time.

"I'm glad, I really am... I'd never want anything to come in the way of your being mates. It just wouldn't be right." She nodded, almost as though agreeing with herself. He nodded too, for good measure. They went back down the stairs together, him floating slightly above the stairs, her walking normally.

"I feel like one of the ghosts," he said. She laughed and when they got to the bottom of the stairs, Parvati Patil and Harry were sitting on the armchairs, separately doing schoolwork. They both looked up.

Parvati gasped. "Ron... you were in the girl's dormitories!" as Parvati said this, Hermione flushed.

"He only needed to talk to me for a second, Parvati, it wasn't..." She grew, if possible, even redder in the cheeks. Harry looked as though he didn't believe her.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "seriously, Harry, we were just talking. Shall we all go down for breakfast?"

Both Harry and Hermione agreed with this, so they said goodbye to Parvati, who still looked shocked, and headed out the portrait hole. On the way down to the Great Hall, they talked quickly, preparing themselves for the day. It had only begun not too long ago and so much had happened already.

"We have Snape this morning," Ron was saying. "This sucks! I mean, I didn't even finish my homework..." Hermione gave him a very stern look.

"I'll help you with it at breakfast, Ron." She sighed. It seemed she was always getting the other two out of their ruts they got themselves into. As if she didn't have enough work herself! But, she admitted, it was a very big event last night, Harry telling us. She shook her head, almost to clear it.

"I finished mine this morning. That's what I was doing when you guys came down... from your talk," Harry said, in a voice that clearly stated he still didn't believe them. Neither Ron nor Hermione knew why, because it's not like they'd do anything else. Sure, Ron fancied her, but he was convinced she didn't feel the same way. And Hermione, so brisk and business-like, knew he fancied her (and fancied him as well), yet with matters of the heart, she was uncharacteristically shy.

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In the Great Hall, people were exceptionally loud. It seemed as though everyone was excited, but the trio couldn't figure out why. As they approached the Gryffindor table, everyone started crowding around Harry.

"Harry!" they called, "When are the tryouts?" He looked puzzled for a minute.

"Oh!" he said quickly, "How about Friday, at 6 on the pitch?" He had momentarily forgotten he had been made Quidditch captain this year. This made him grin. He turned to Hermione and Ron. "We need two chasers, and two beaters. Both Kirke and Sloper are-" he sighed mid-sentence, "-useless."

"Didn't they quit anyway, after Angelina left?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied, "but I figure they'll probably try out again. Maybe if they got better over the summer we'll let them on the team again, but I doubt it."

By this point, they had sat down, and Harry was busily buttering some toast. They had all acted as though nothing had happened yesterday - which was fine, because if it was no big deal to anyone, then everyone was happy.

Harry didn't say much of anything after this, just ate his breakfast quietly. Meanwhile, Hermione helped Ron finish his Potions work.

"It's not MY fault I don't understand it!" Ron complained loudly.

"Maybe if you paid more attention in class," Hermione replied, "you would understand better."

"Snape's an ulgy great git. That's all I can think about when I'm in his class."

"Well you know what, Ron? I don't know how you managed to get into NEWT level Potions, but you did. And now you have to work hard." He knew this was true, and didn't say anything. "Oh my," she continued, "we need to head down to the dungeons right now or we'll be late." she gathered her things and motioned for the other two to follow her.

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Running down the stone steps and along the dungeon corridors as quickly as they could, their robes flying out behind them, they rushed to get to class on time. They slid in the door just as Snape was about to close it, and he gave them murderous looks as they sat down.

"What an honor it is to have your presence," Snape said viciously. He turned to the rest of the class. "Would you all please hand in your assignments on your way out today, anything not handed in gets a full zero (as you all know). Today we will be learning a Quickening Potion, to make the drinker speedy and more... efficient." He gave a pointed look at Ron and continued, "Some of us could do with a little more efficiency and a little less fumbling uselessness. Such idiots I have the 'pleasure' to teach." These words were spoken with such malice, such a twisted quality, the three doubted where Snape's loyalties really lied for a moment. Which was saying something, as Hermione firmly believed in Dumbledore's judgment.

"Harry, what the fuck is his problem?" Ron whispered. "Did you go off on him or something? He seems royally pissed."

"Nope, I've stayed clear of him since ...um, this year." Harry's face did not say what his words implied. Both Ron and Hermione knew what he was saying. It was clear he blamed Snape, at least partially, for what had happened to Sirius; they never said anything in the contrary.

"You will work in partners. Instructions are on the board-" Snape said, and flicked his wand before the instructions did appear there and, with another flick of his wand, he said, "You have the rest of class." With that he disappeared into his office.

Neville looked completely devastated. Ron, Hermione, and Harry all knew how bad Neville was at potions, but he seemed on the verge of tears.

Hermione walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. It was hard enough for him to get into advanced potions, but he needed it for his career plans in Herbology. He himself had gone to speak to Dumbledore, surprisingly since Neville never particularily stuck up for himself.

"Neville, what's wrong?" she asked kindly. He handed her a piece of parchment. She began to read it quietly, but so that Ron and Harry could hear it too.

"'The Quickening Potion is for you, Longbottom. Maybe you'll replace it as your morning pumpkin juice - and be able to do something right for once.'" she looked horrified. "When did you get this?" she asked quietly, but with anger clear in her voice.

"Um... Malfoy... on his way to his seat, he dropped it on my desk." Neville's face was screwed up in emotion. "He... was just trying to get to me; he wants me out of this class."

"Neville, ignore him, he's just a fucking prat, and just wants to get to you. Don't let him." said Harry, taking deep breaths to keep himself calm.

"He's a prefect!" said Hermione, with an almost mournful, disapproving look on her face. As though a prefect, even Malfoy, should be better than that.

Harry sat at his seat. "Hermione?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, Harry?" she replied as she summoned the ingredients from the table across the room.

"Will you be Neville's partner, help him do really well, try to cheer him up?"

"Yeah, no problem." she picked up her things and walked over to Neville's desk. She was already chatting animatedly about how to best go about making their potion when Harry turned back to Ron.

"Guess we're failures together today, eh?" Harry laughed. Ron chuckled too and started adding the first ingredients.