The Weight of the World

Chapter One: Affairs of the Bewitched

    In a universe where there is obvious right and obvious wrong, it's kind of hard to differentiate what side we choose, and what side we must be on. Practicality and morals are put on the collision course everyday, clashing horns at any given period of time.

    So, what to do when what you know is right and what you know you must do is laid down on a very thin line? It's enough to make even the sanest person doubt their sanity. What's even harder is when you're just a teenager, barely even tan in the Sun of Life.

                *~*

    “Harry?” The voice that broke the dewy, morning silence was highpitched and concerned. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, rolled over in his bed, his head aching something awful.

    He mumbled something to his intruder; it didn't even sound coherent to his ears but he didn't much care. He wanted to remain in bed--all day, all term, forever. It couldn't have been morning already...

    "Well, you can't stay in bed forever,” said the voice. Harry then opened his eyes. If the voice hadn't confirmed it, the bushy, brown hair did. Hermione. Of course, who else would it be?

    “I can try,” he mumbled, reaching for his glasses. Once he located them, he gingerly forced himself up against his pillows. Unfortunately for him, Hermione was already dressed in her robes and, by the looks of it, about to pull him out of his bed if he didn't do so himself.

    She tapped her foot impatiently and smiled briskly as Harry pulled himself up out of bed. “Happy?” He said, trying to manage a little dance, but found himself stumbling from post-morning drowsy-ness. He wavered onto his side, but Hermione caught him.

    “Steady as you go.” She smiled.

    Harry managed to stablize himself and glare at Hermione. “I suppose you can tell me just why you've practically kidnapped me from my bed?” Mustering up his most contempous stare, he added, “it is the least you could do.”

    Hermione covered her eyes with her hands as Harry changed from his pajamas to his school clothes. Trying hard not to peek, she said, “It’s the first weekend of the term. Surely you'd like to spend it with your friends rather then wasting away in the damned dormitory?”

    Finally, both friends managed to get down to the Great Hall before breakfast. “I didn't even know you were still breathing, mate,” said Ron once he saw Harry. “You were out cold for ages.” He helped himself to some bacon.

    “You weren't having one of your dreams, were you, Harry? If you were, you've got to go to Dumble--” Hermione said shrilly, as if the thought had just occured to her, but was cut off by the entrance of Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood.

    Luna had the appearance of a slow kitten who had just wandered out of her territory. She was always dreaming and looked permanently dazed. “Oh, good morning all,” she said brightly. She glanced to the Ravenclaw table. “Well, guess I will see you later then. I will talk to you after breakfast, Gin,” she said quietly.

    Ron stared at Luna's retreating back, with a bit of bacon hanging stupidly from his mouth. “Talk to you about what?” he demanded, staring at his little sister impatiently. Ginny helped herself to some oatmeal and looked rather demure.

    “Nothing. Pass the toast if you please, Ron.”

    “Not until you tell me what's up with you and Loony.”

    “Pass the toast then, please, Hermione.”

    The youngest Weasley smiled innocently at Ron as she lathered her piece of bread with butter.

                *~*

    After breakfast, Ginny and Luna made for the bleachers at the Quidditch pitch. “It's so nice up here,” Luna said dreamily. “What's it like playing Quidditch?” She noticed a small spider crawling on the next bench. She cocked her head to the side to examine it carefully, but then the bug scurried away.

    “It's alright, I suppose. I'm kind of weary of heights, though,” mused Ginny. “Anyway, you shouldn't have said anything to me in front of Ron. Now he's gotten all brotherly, demanding what I have to talk to you about.”

    Luna fiddled with her pale hair. Her flaxen locks contrasted nicely with Ginny's red ones, she noticed. “Why should that bother you? He's your brother, he's got every right to be concerned. If my siblings, if I had any, that is, knew that I fancied Draco Malfoy--”

    “Shut up!” hissed Ginny. “There's an echo here, you know!” She looked around frantically and made sure they were the only two people in the stadium. This was the last time she would tell damned Loony Lovegood a secret.

    Her friend was back to playing with her hair, making pretend ponytails and then releasing them. Luna was staring up at the sky, trying to convert clouds into shapes. “There's a Welsh Green, I reckon. Dead interesting, aren't they, dragons?”

    “Stop changing the subject. You can't tell anyone that I like Draco, alright? You are sworn to complete and utter secrecy.” Ginny looked her dead in the eye, trying to impose a fire that made her seem dead serious.

    Luna stopped looking contemplative for a split second, only for a split second. “You know, now that you told me, it's not much of a secret anymore, is it?” she said wisely. Ginny stared at her, not believing that Luna Lovegood had just made a valid point.

                *~*

    Draco Malfoy and friends/bodygyards, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, trudged into the Slytherin common room after breakfast. Draco wanted to explore the campus grounds a bit, torture Hagrid or Potter, the usual, but of course Crabbe and Goyle stuffed themselves beyond fullness.

    “Not...now...mate...” groaned Goyle. “I have a blasted stomachache,” he whimpered. Crabbe groaned in agreement.

    Malfoy rolled his eyes and plopped down next to the fireplace, even though the Common Room was comfortable in its temperature. “Pretty soon you'll look like Hagrid if you don't stop eating the way you do,” he sneered.

    “I want to do something...or someone,” he muttered under his breath. It was true. The last time Draco had had sex, he and Pansy had gotten drunk off of Butterbeers. It was a rather unpleasant incident, as Pansy had been going out with Blaise Zabini. The two of them never talked about it since.

    Crabbe was now shuddering, and Goyle looked like he was about to regurgitate his breakfast. Malfoy cringed. “I'm not going to stay inside all day hearing you complain. I'm going out. To the Quidditch pitch, for some practice.”

                *~*

    Ron wouldn't stop complaining about Ginny all the way until they were outside of Hagrid's hut. “Honestly, I'm her brother. You think if she could tell anyone, it would be me!” He had a permanent scowl on his face, and it didn't leave until Hermione decided she had enough.

    “Ron, do us all a favor and shut up. Ginny's sixteen, she can do what she pleases without reporting to you.” Harry stared at Hermione with admiration; Ron's ears went red.

    Hagrid opened up the door of the hut without them even knocking it. “Heard yeh bickerin', hones'ly, gettin ta be quite annoyin...” He let his visitors in and instantly started to make tea. “Anyhow, got some new creatures in fer yer classes, mind yeh. Very interestin...”

    Hermione and Harry exchanged looks. Ron didn't look at either of them, still sullen in his mug of tea. It was lucky for him, because he didn't notice Draco running right past Hagrid's window.

    Harry stared at Fang while Hagrid went on about the new animals they'd be training on Monday. Something of a cross between a turtle and a frog, he wasn't paying attention. Staring at Fang, he scar started to burn like crazy.... A worse pain then ever before...

    “FUCK!” he screamed, clutching his forehead. He knocked over his tea in the process, slightly scalding Hermione. The three of them shot up off the table, and Ron and Hermione stared at Harry with utmost concern.

    Hagrid took a cool rag from the cupboard and placed it over Harry's head. “Jesus, Harry,” muttered Hermione, looking terribly frightened, “are you alright?”

    The scary thing was that Harry didn't know.

                *~*

    Draco started for the Quidditch pitch, Nimbus 2001 in hand. What he needed was some flying time, above the goal posts, to clear his head. To his dismay, though, he realized that the Quidditch pitch was not empty. That damn Weasley girl and her dimwitted friend were in the bleachers, talking feverishly.

    “HEY!” Draco bellowed, his loud shouts ricocheting off the goal posts and the scoreboard. Ginny and Luna looked down to the field to see Draco, looking extremely angry. “I'M TRYING TO PRACTICE, ALRIGHT?”

    Luna smiled at Ginny. “That's my cue to leave. Bye, Gin.”

    As Luna started for the castle, Ginny ran down the steps leading to the field. “I'll watch you practice,” she said quietly. Draco stared at her for a moment, as if she had an ulterior motive. “I won't say anything.” Ginny added, the beginnings of a smile forming.

    He nodded. Without another word, he mounted his broom and soared into the air.