Destiny Reversed

Chapter 11 Halloween

Violet still wasn't speaking to him.

At least, not since she found out that Harry had written to their parents, informing them about her potion abuse. Apparently, she hadn't taken too kindly to him "tattling" on her "like a rat".

Harry couldn't be blamed for getting a little angry at this remark, could he?

Well, perhaps his choice of words could be debated; he could have been a little bit more sensitive. Maybe he shouldn't have spoken at all.

Yeah. Probably.

Now, as they stood in line waiting to be scanned by Filch's Dark Detector, Violet refused to meet her brother's eyes, but glared viciously at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Harry cringed, remembering vividly the accusing betrayal in her eyes when Madame Pomfrey had told her that Harry had written to her parents. It was strange; though he'd only known her for a few months, he couldn't help but feel an odd sort of withdrawal – almost like the feeling he got every summer, when he was forced to go back to Privet Drive, away from Hermione, Ron, Hogwarts, and magic.

He'd really gotten attached to the people here in a short amount of time.

She had almost been unable to attend today's Halloween Hogsmeade visit, not because she was still recovering, but because Madame Pomfrey didn't want to give Violet an opportunity to stock up on Dreamless Sleep Potion. However, she said that it would be alright if she went as long as she was supervised by someone trustworthy.

Neville became that somebody, and needless to say that neither Violet nor Neville were very happy about this arrangement.

Harry highly suspected that Tonks had something to do with this.

At least the two of them could always talk about how much of a prick Harry was. Personally, Harry thought they were both being stupid; Violet was going down the road of self-destruction, and Neville was in no way prepared for the Final Battle, not when he wasn't even willing to swallow his pride, take some criticism, and learn the necessary skills.

Frankly, it kind of pissed him off. A lot.

So, instead of enjoying what would potentially be a very nice date with Ginny, he found himself worrying as he would before, when the weight of the world was on his shoulders –what would he do? After everything he's gone through, Harry didn't believe he could sit around and do nothing, despite the seductive option this place offered –a life with his parents, without the prophecy, everything he's ever dreamed of . . . it was tempting, especially when he knew that right now, he could go out with his beautiful, fiery girlfriend and shop without worrying about Death Eaters lurking in the shadows, waiting for him.

"Wake up boy! Turn around!" Filch barked at him grumpily.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, mechanically doing as he said.

"You're clean," Filch said rather resentfully, as if he'd been deprived of a treat.

Harry smirked, knowing Filch's penchant for getting students in trouble. But this time, it didn't really bother him; it was nice to know that something –even that smallest detail –was the same. Filch didn't suddenly get a personality transplant and become a nice, sweets-distributing care keeper who loved kids.

Now that would have been disturbing.

After Ginny had been scanned as well, the redhead slipped her arm around Harry's. "Shall we?" she asked in mock seriousness, as if they were going to a ball.

"Of course," Harry responded playfully, "Can't let the third-years hog all the candy, can we? Otherwise we'll have a Grawp-sized case of obesity on our hands."