The Snake and the Emerald Apple

Quite Contrary

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the Burrow?" Ron asked with a frown between his eyebrows.

Harry looked at his friend thoughtfully and gave him a sad smile. "No, you know Dumbledore prefers me to stay at Hogwarts." Besides, it's damn hard not to feel uncomfortable after we've been carefully dancing around each other like virtually unknowns for the past few weeks, Harry thought melancholy.

Apparently, the day after the Yule Ball, the day he'd seen Sirius, Ron thought he'd give his friendship with Harry another chance. The red-haired boy had approached him hesitantly, catching his angry looks at the Headmaster. How strategic the boy is with Wizard Chess, how erratic he'd thrown out his hurried apology to a shocked Harry. Harry had only been able to stare at Ron, mouth half-open when his friend told him he had tried to replace Harry with Seamus and Dean but had failed miserably. He had told him that he was sorry for how the last few weeks had gone and that he hoped Hermione would forgive him soon so that everything would go back to normal.

As if that's possible.

Harry, however, had smiled kindly at the bumbling boy and even thrown a half-hearted apology into the conversation, then closed his arms around Ron. It had been an awkward hug and the look from Ron telling him this was a bro hug, and better be nothing more, made Harry take a quick step back.

As uncomfortable as the first conversation had been, it had begun to rekindle their friendship. That's why Ron faced Harry, looking at the cluttered desk where Harry kept Merope Gaunt's diary, along with the box still discolored from the wasted Muggle blood.

"You know Dumbledore would approve if you stayed with my mum and dad," Ron interrupted from his musings. "My father works in the Ministry, you will be as safe there as at the castle."

Harry ran his finger over the cover of the journal and looked calmly at Ron. "I'd rather stay at the castle. I still have a lot of homework to do and-"

Ron was already shaking his head and tapping his nail impatiently against Merope's journal. The movement made Harry see teeth grit and looked at him with a straight face. "You may think I don't see it, but I see you reading every night with that book in your lap, you don't stay just for homework. I'm- I'm sure it has to do with that diary. Why are you so interested in a girl who lived a century ago?"

Harry's chin shot up in defiance, his eyes cold. "Did you read it?"

Ron shrugged. "You don't hide it, you leave it lying around regularly. That box too, but it won't open."

"It's my property, I assumed it makes sense that you don't go through my stuff without permission."

"I hadn't read much, mate. As soon as I saw it was some kind of Moaning Myrtle talking about her life, I stopped reading." Ron's eyes widened. "You don't think the girl was Myrtle, do you? Does it say anything about..." Ron conspiratorially lowered his voice, "You-Know-Who?"

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed the book possessively. "No, the book wasn't Myrtle's and no, it's not about Voldemort's life either."

Ron held up his hands apologetically. "I'm sorry mate, I was curious. I did not read the book again after that. Seriously though, you'll have to clean up your stuff if you don't want it to be borrowed by others."

Harry felt a rush of anger run through his body but saw in Ron's face that he meant well and innocently enough. "Don't do it again," Harry said softly. "Just because something isn't locked up doesn't mean you should get it."

"I know, I won't do it again."

"Fine."

However, it was not fine. Harry felt on edge and cornered by the conversation with Ron. He hadn't lied when he said the book had nothing to do with Tom or Voldemort, Merope barely interacted with anyone other than her father and brother and could be called a hermit with some certainty. However, the sad story of her irregular entries of days had caught on to Harry and he felt particularly protective of the diary. As if he wanted to protect her from the harsh opinions of others, where no one had protected her from the harsh realities of life. In addition, the booklet was something that connected him to Tom, one of the few things he could have kept after taking it from the shack.