Ariadne's Thread ⭒ h. potter

Solemnly Swear

Unfortunately, the Great Firebolt Confiscation of Christmas '93 meant that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ariadne were now firmly divided into two camps: Anti-Confiscation (Harry and Ron) and Pro-Confiscation (Hermione and Ariadne).

After McGonagall left, both Ron and Hermione stormed out of the Common Room with a simultaneity that would have been funny if Harry wasn't still holding his broom polish and staring straight in shock.

"I know you're upset, Harry," Ariadne tried. "But you have to understand– the only person alive besides the Malfoys who knows my birthday is my father. The risk that your broom came from him too, it's too dangerous. He could be trying to hurt you."

Harry scoffed.

"Or us," Ariadne added on. At that, he finally turned to face her.

Harry looked down at Ariadne's hand, gaze softening as he caught sight of the note that she still held between her fingers.

"You really think it was him?"

Ariadne bit her lip before nodding. "I can't be certain," she admitted. "But it makes more sense than anything else."

"Yeah, alright," Harry said begrudgingly. "I reckon I'd have done the same, if it was just the ring. Well, maybe not tell a teacher," he tacked on bitterly, before his shoulders slumped down with a sigh. "It's just– my Nimbus was one of the first things I ever got that was really mine. That I earned. This Firebolt was supposed to be a new– I don't know." Harry cut himself off.

Ariadne walked over to him slowly, taking the polish carefully out of his hands and setting it down. She waited until she had his full attention before speaking again. "We'll get your broom back," Ariadne promised seriously. She placed a hand softly on his shoulder. "That last match wasn't the end of it, alright?"

Harry searched her face before nodding once firmly.

Ariadne's lips lifted into a small smile. "Good. Try not to be too mad at Hermione? That goes for Ron, too. Make sure he knows I'm watching," she teased.

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Though Harry agreed to talk to Ron, Ariadne resolved to stop by the boy's dormitory quickly before her final destination. She pounded on the third-year door twice.

"Don't be an arse, Ron!" Ariadne yelled from outside. "Unless you'd rather risk Harry's life for a broom!"

She did not wait to receive an answer before walking away, though Ariadne laughed lightly at the thunk that had resounded from inside the room. Ron throwing a book at the door, she was quite certain. He'd heard her, at least.

The next stop was Hermione.

The older witch had stood firm in her decision when pressed by Ron, lifting a stubborn chin and declaring that she'd done what was right. But Ariadne could see contrition flash across Hermione's face as she stormed out of the room. At the very least, it wasn't a decision that Hermione had made lightly.

Ariadne knocked on the third-year dorm, softly this time, before letting herself in.

"I suppose you've come to yell at me too," Hermione said coldly, not looking up from her book. "Look, I'm sorry about your ring, but–"

"I didn't come to yell at you," Ariadne cut in slowly. "I don't care about my ring," she half-lied. "I mean, I liked it, and I wish you had said something to me before going to McGonagall, but I'll get it back. And if I don't get it back, that means it would have killed me anyway, so I'd rather n–"

Before Ariadne could finish speaking, Hermione dropped her book and leaped out of bed, wrapping her arms around Ariadne's neck and nearly knocking her over.