Chapter 11

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Harry would have slept in the next day, exhausted from his late night trip to Hogsmeade, but, while everyone else was at breakfast, Hermione snuck up into his room and threw his bed hangings open.

She was furious. "Harry Potter, you wake up this instant," she hissed, yanking his covers back.

"Hermione?" Harry said sleepily, blinking. "What... what happened?"

"What happened is that you're still in bed, going to be late for class, and I heard the most interesting rumour at breakfast! Apparently a certain Harry Potter followed Draco Malfoy to Hogsmeade in the middle of the night!"

"Followed?" Harry mumbled indignantly. "I certainly did not follow! He followed me!"

"That's besides the point, Harry!" She sat on the bed and studied him for a long moment. "What's going on with you, Harry? I feel like I don't know you anymore. Not doing your homework, not going to class, going to Hogsmeade. Why did you go, anyway?"

"Bought cigarettes," he said absently.

"What? Harry. Honey. You don't smoke."

"I know." He laughed a little. "Neither does Malfoy."

"I don't care one whit what Malfoy does or doesn't do! Honestly, if I find out that it's because of his influence that you've gone mad the way you have, Harry, I'll kill him."

"Why does everyone think that because Draco Malfoy followed me to Hogsmeade I'm going to start being influenced by him?" Harry cried, reaching for his glasses. "Honestly!"

"Well, you've been acting more like him than yourself lately."

"How have I been acting like him?"

"Not going to class."

"He always goes to class."

"Not doing your homework."

"He's always got his homework done."

She looked irritated. "That proves it! You've been acting worse than he has! It's his fault."

Falling back onto his bed, Harry moaned. "How is anything I do Malfoy's fault?"

There was a long silence, and then she said huffily, "I don't know. But as soon as I figure it out, I'll kill him."

"He didn't do anything. He was just...there." Which was true. Draco hadn't purposely done anything to Harry lately. Not the armor incident or the lightning incident or the closet incident, or any of the rest. He'd just... been there.

And Ron and Hermione hadn't even managed that much.

Guilt made Harry flush a little at that thought. "Hermione, listen. I'm fine. Everything's like it always has been." Lies. Harry was never good at lying.

Hermione knew it. "I'm worried, that's all," she said softly. "You've been acting so strangely. If you need to talk, Harry, I'm here."

"Everyone's here to listen if I have to talk," Harry whispered, suddenly very tired. "What if I don't want to talk?"

"Then what do you want?"

"To live forever."

She was quiet for a while, and then said, "Is that what this is? Are you afraid that You-Know-Who is going to hurt you?"

Harry smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. "I haven't thought about Voldemort in days."

Still looking perplexed, Hermione said, "Then what? Talk to me, Harry. How am I supposed to help you if you won't talk to me?"

"Just... be there. That's help enough." He smiled brightly, a fake smile that Draco would have seen through in an instant.

Hermione looked reassured. "Well, I'll always be here, you know that. Now get dressed, I promised Dumbledore I'd make sure you went to class."

Feeling a little betrayed, Harry still let her prod him out of bed and into his robes. He didn't want to go to class, it was a waste of his time. But still, to stop her questions, he'd go. It was better than the alternative, better than telling her everything. Because Harry still hadn't said it out loud and he knew instinctively that when he did, everything would crack and the fragile anger he'd been building up to hide behind would crumble and he'd have nothing left to stand on.

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