Chapter 17

250 9 2
                                    

"I saw you in the library today," Hermione said in lieu of a greeting when Harry entered the common room later that night.

He paused, startled. "Did you? I didn't see you there."

Lips pursed strangely, Hermione said slowly, "No, I don't suppose you would have, Harry." She seemed incredibly perplexed by something, and was speaking carefully, delicately.

"What do you mean?"

"You were there with Malfoy."

"I told you, Dumbledore says we have to study together."

"But Harry..." she cleared her throat and glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. "Harry, you were holding his hand."

So surprised that he nearly choked, Harry cried, "What are you going on about, Hermione? I was not!"

"I saw you!" she insisted.

He frowned, confused, and then sudden realization made him laugh. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to comment, but Harry said quickly, "He wasn't holding my hand! He'd upset me and he was just... apologizing."

"Draco Malfoy doesn't apologize," she said stiffly.

"Mmm, no, he doesn't," Harry replied sweetly. "And he doesn't hold hands with boys in the library."

She smiled reluctantly at that and shrugged. "You have got a point. Still, it was strange, the way he was looking at you."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Nothing. It's just...well. Never mind, I'm probably just still jumpy over the fact that you're spending so much time with him. It doesn't seem real. But I've been so busy lately, maybe that's why you were forced to spend time with him. Ron and I have both been busy, what with O.W.L.s and that bloody weapons club."

Harry glanced away, suddenly realizing how terrible Hermione was going to feel after... after his birthday. Really, unless Dumbledore pulled off some miracle, he'd probably never see Hermione and Ron again after this last week and a half of term. He nearly felt sick to his stomach at the thought. He couldn't tell them, of course. They didn't need the distraction... didn't need to have Harry and his Boy-Who-Lived status once again pulling them away from having a normal life.

"It wasn't your fault," he said firmly, quietly, sitting beside her. "None of this is your fault. Remember that, alright? No matter what happens?"

She laughed nervously. "Why do I feel like you're saying goodbye or something?" Her eyes narrowed and she peered into his eyes, biting her lip. "God, Harry, when did that happen?" she whispered.

"When did what happen?"

"Your eyes. They're so much darker than they used to be."

He pulled away skittishly, laughing darkly as he remembered that days before he'd found out he was going to die, he was furious because no one noticed the change in his eyes. Now, he wished she'd look anywhere but there, because he was afraid the darkness was more than she could stand, that it would corrupt her somehow. "It's just the lighting," he said lightly.

Ron came in then, his clothing heavily grass stained, beaming and anxious to tell them both about the latest weapons club meeting. They'd been learning about guns.

He'd missed them, Harry realized painfully, as he listened to Hermione suggest that perhaps studying for O.W.L.s would have been a better expenditure of time. And he'd miss them even more, afterwards...

It was suddenly too painful to bear, and he found himself wishing desperately that Draco was there, because he was feeling like things were crumbling around him again and that this wasn't real, and only having Draco there to distract him made things solid again. But he couldn't go find Draco now, because nothing could force him, at that moment, to walk away from Hermione and Ron, so familiar and safe and perfect in their bickering and their fighting and their friendship.

Beautiful World ~ 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑹𝑹𝒀Where stories live. Discover now