Getting Distracted

Hermione was just about to give up and head down to breakfast on her own, when the Portrait swung open and Harry stepped into the common room.

"Where were you?" Hermione blurted. "Oh my God. You look terrible."

Harry swayed unsteadily, and clutched her shoulder to regain his balance. "I feel like dozens of tiny imps are chiselling their names into my skull."

"I TOLD you not to go out drinking with the seventh years! They might have finished their exams but ours don't get over till next week." Hermione said angrily. "Is that vomit on your sweater?"

"Shhh," said Harry, clutching his head. "Everything's so loud."

Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He did look pathetic. She was grateful that all the other Gryffindors were in the Dining Hall, and couldn't see him like this. "Come on, Harry," she said, wrapping an arm around his waist and guiding him towards the stairs leading to the boys' dorms. "I think you might feel better after a shower."

"Ugghnnh," agreed Harry, and leaned heavily on her as they slowly climbed the stairs.

He smelled awful. "What happened?" Hermione asked, worried. "Where's Ron? I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon."

"Remind me to kill Ron," Harry said thickly. "What's the point of having your best friend around when you try to get drunk out of your mind, if they're not around later to make sure you don't wake up in a puddle of your own vomit behind the Hog's Head?"

"Don't you try and blame Ron for this, even if he is as big an idiot as you are," Hermione said curtly. "Where is he? Don't you know? What happened? Is he all right?" She opened the door to the boys' dormitory and tried not to trip as she guided Harry inside.

"I don't know, Hermione, stop talking, it hurts. It hurts to think. I can't remember anything right now, I want to sleep," he said, stumbling towards his bed.

"Oh no you don't," Hermione said firmly, and pushed him away from the bed. She dug a towel and a fresh set of robes from his chest of drawers and gave them to him. "First, you take a hot shower. Then I bring you up your breakfast, which will include lots of clear liquids. But before that, I'm going to find Ron, and give both of you the lecture you deserve."

"I'd... rather just sleep," said Harry.

"GO." Hermione pointed to the bathroom attached to the dorm. Harry sighed, but did as he was told.

Hermione heard the sounds of the shower being turned on, and searched Harry's bag for the Marauder's Map. She pulled it out, unrolled it, and tapped it with her wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

It didn't take her long to find Ron. He was alone in the private conference room that the prefects used for their meetings. She wondered what on earth he could be doing in there.

"Hermione!" came Harry's voice from the bathroom.

"What?" she said, distracted.

"Isn't vodka a clear liquid?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Hermione said, as she replaced the map in Harry's bag and left the dormitory.

*

Hermione pushed open the door to the conference room. It was a very comfortable room, with bookcases of brightly polished wood, a large oak table, deep red carpeting, and a few armchairs and sofas.She found Ron sitting at the table, his head in his hands. He looked up when she entered. "Oh, hi," he said, his voice extremely hoarse.

Ron looked even worse than Harry, if that was possible. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess, his fingernails filthy. He also wore the expression of someone who'd gone through a long and arduous torture session involving sharp pencils and spellotape.

Hermione threw up her hands in despair. "Explain!"

"Go away," Ron said sullenly.

"I won't- you can't- this is a public room!" said Hermione. "I have as much right to be here as you."

"Well then, don't talk, right? Don't talk."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, getting seriously frustrated. "The two of you disappear after the exam, apparently to get yourselves drunk with the seventh years no matter how many times I warned you against it, and you a prefect! But then you don't even come back together, and for God's sake, couldn't you have at least made sure that Harry didn't pass out in the seediest part of Hogsmeade and wake up alone? When you think of what could have happened to him-"

"Wait, wait, wait. Harry passed out in Hogsmeade?" Ron asked, looking a bit shocked.

"Yes!" Hermione cried. "Why, why did you leave him alone?"

"But he's okay, right? Is he okay?" said Ron.

"Yes, he's taking a shower right now, but he's really angry at you, and so would I be, if I were in his place," Hermione said, pulling up a chair, and sitting across the table from him.

"Oh my God," said Ron, turning white. "He's... he's angry at me? Did you talk to him?"

"Well, yes, but not much," Hermione said. "The poor boy has a terrible hangover."

"So did he... tell you anything?"

"Not really, he said that he couldn't remember anything," Hermione said. "What happened?"

Ron didn't reply, but stared at the table. Hermione leaned forward. "Ron, what happened? Did you get into trouble? Did something happen to him?"

Ron exhaled. "So Harry doesn't remember?"

"Not right now, but he probably will soon enough, once the hangover wears off. And don't change the subject!" Hermione snapped. "What happened last night?"

Ron fidgeted, and didn't meet her eyes. "Look, Hermione, what if... let's say hypothetically, your best friend starts acting unexpectedly, and then all of a sudden you're acting unexpectedly, then both of you are doing unexpected things in the back alley behind the pub, but then you hear someone coming, so the two of you run for it, but then you've lost him, but you manage to make your way back to school, and the next thing you know, you're being woken up by Dobby at five a.m., all alone underneath the second floor stairwell, smelling of horse-radish. What would you do?"

Hermione stared. "I... what?"

"Hermione..." Ron said slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Is Harry... gay?"

"What?" Hermione felt completely and totally confused. "Why would you ask that?"

There was a pause. And then a longer, more meaningful pause.

"Oh," she said in a small voice.

Ron covered his face with his hands. "I've really bollocksed it up this time," he said, sounding miserable.

"Well, you were drunk. And people do crazy things when they're drunk. Which is why they shouldn't get drunk in the first place!" she said, her voice rising. "And to take him out, yesterday, of all days-"

Ron dropped his fist on to the table. "Hermione, stop it. I know we agreed not to bring up the fact that Sirius died exactly a year ago, but it was obviously on Harry's mind, and I just wanted to help distract him a bit."

"Well, you certainly distracted him all right," Hermione said tartly.

They both looked at each other for a second, then suddenly, at the same time, burst out laughing.

"Oh Ron," Hermione said at last. "And I thought nothing could surprise me anymore."

"You... you don't think it's wrong, do you?" he said, a touch nervously.

"No, no, no, I don't think it's wrong, not at all," Hermione said. "It's just... it's very strange, now, isn't it? Harry and you?"

Ron had the vague feeling that he'd just been insulted. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, for one thing you're so tall. And your hair colours clash."

"What?"

"And also," Hermione continued, "I always assumed if Harry liked boys, he'd go for someone more, you know, delicate and petite. Like Malfoy."

"MALFOY?" Ron exploded. "Hermione!"

"Well, when you're the last person left in the library and you're doing your revision papers the third time over, your mind tends to wander."

"Do you even realise what you just said?" Ron asked.

"In any case," Hermione said, feeling a bit annoyed. "I don't think this is such a big problem. The two of you were drunk, these things happen. It's not like you meant anything by it."

There was another one of those pregnant pauses.

"Oh," Hermione said in an even smaller voice.

"I just... I feel like the biggest idiot in the world," said Ron. "Drunk or not, there are some feelings that should just not be acted on, because this isn't just anybody, it's Harry, and if I lose him over this, it's the worst possible thing that could ever happen to me."

He sighed. "On the other hand, even if he agrees that this was a stupid mistake and it's better to just forget about it, it's going to be pretty damn painful to be around him every day and pretend that nothing happened."

Not knowing what to say, Hermione reached across the table and took his hand.

The door creaked open, and they turned to see Harry standing in the doorway, his hair still wet from the shower. His eyes flickered between the two of them, but before he could say anything, Hermione stood up.

"Harry, you know this room is for prefects only! It's against the rules for you to come here!" she said, her hands on her hips.

"Hermione," said Ron, shaking his head.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Well, since classes started fifteen minutes ago, I'm not the only one breaking the rules."

"Oh my God!" said Hermione, looking at her watch, then ran out of the room without another word.

Harry closed the door after her. Ron got up and cleared his throat. "I suppose we ought to be on our way as well."

Harry gave him a wry smile. "Well, classes have started, but it's our free period now. A small detail Hermione forgot."

Ron laughed.

Harry scratched his head and looked down at the carpeted floor.

The silence stretched on, as awkward as Ron feared it would be. He wondered how the hell they were going to sort out this one.

"Ron-"

"Harry-"

"No, wait," said Harry, holding up a hand. "Just, let me speak first, okay? I have to say what I have to say before I lose my nerve, and after that you can tell me whatever you want to."

"All right," Ron said slowly.

Harry sighed, then looked Ron in the eye. "I was thinking, yesterday, about Sirius. I think of him all the time, but yesterday I kept thinking of how he died, and how it was so meaningless and sudden and unfair and final. And the past year... we're just... we're losing, Ron, we're losing so badly, and everything seems hopeless but no one's willing to admit it. I'm going to bed every night not knowing who'll still be left with us in the morning, and the damn uncertainty is driving me crazy. And then, I have the nightmares."

He paused. "They're different. And they remind me, all of them, how you'd be the first to put your life on the line for our cause, how you've always been the first, and I can't do anything about that, that's just who you are. It's what I hate most about you, and it's what makes you the person I will miss more than anything else in the world, if anything happens."

He looked away. Ron might have thought that he was blushing if it weren't for the fact that Harry Potter never blushed. Not for him anyway.

"I just... wanted for you to know that," said Harry. "I was just, well, thinking of everything last night, and- and realised how much could go wrong at any minute, and I... acted on impulse, I suppose, and then we got a bit..."

"Distracted?" Ron suggested.

Harry laughed. "Yeah." He looked down at the floor again, then looked up. "Well, that's all I needed to say. I'm sorry Ron, I really am, and I'll just, um, leave you alone for a bit." He turned around and placed a hand on the doorknob.

"Hey, wait," said Ron. His heart was hammering in his chest so furiously he was surprised that he was still standing. "Um, you're right, you know."

Harry turned back. "What?"

"About how I could die anytime. You're right."

"Well-" said Harry.

"I mean, it doesn't have to be a Death Eater who finally does me in. I could... develop a serious allergic reaction to the dust on these books here, and collapse on the floor, gasping for air and dying a horrible death," Ron said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"True," said Harry, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

"And the tragedy about the whole thing, is that you'd never find out..." Ron paused, and took a deep breath. "How much more comfortable this room is than the alley behind the Hog's Head."

They looked at each other. Harry grinned.

"It's warm," said Ron, feeling himself blush. "There's a sofa, even. And I know for a fact that every prefect will be in the library right now. It is a free period, after all."

"And who knows what will happen when we leave," Harry said quietly.

"Who knows," said Ron, and came towards him.

Harry slid the bolt shut behind up as Ron pressed him up against the door.

*