the marriage stone (Discontinued)

Chapter 13 - Understanding Werewolves

Remus left Harry's bedside shortly after Ron arrived, giving the two friends some time alone. Harry listened in silence while Ron told him all about the restless night he and Hermione had spent in Gryffindor Tower. The story of the attack had spread through the school like wild fire. A dozen students had seen Severus Snape carrying Harry's bloodied body into The Three Broomsticks. The descriptions of the arrows that had been protruding from Harry's body had been detailed and lurid. Half of Gryffindor had been panicked with the belief that Harry was dead, and Ron and Hermione had spent the better part of an hour assuring them it was untrue.

"They wanted to hear the whole story over and over again," Ron confessed to Harry. "I had no idea how exhausting it was." The redhead looked flushed, and vaguely sick. "They wanted to know how much blood there was, if you screamed, if. . ." He broke off and shook his head.

"It's alright, Ron," Harry said quietly.

Ron looked up at him in worry. "Harry, did I ever do that? Did I ever bug you like that?"

Harry floundered for a moment too long, looking for an appropriate lie. Ron knew him too well, and sighed. "Merlin! I'm sorry, Harry! I had no idea."

"Don't worry about," Harry assured him. "Believe it or not, you get used to it."

Ron just shook his head. "Maybe," he replied. "In any event, we talked late into the night. Lots of people are scared that this means You-Know-Who is going to attack again. And you should hear what they are saying about Snape."

Harry looked up at that in surprise. "What about Snape?" His voice sounded defensive even to himself.

Ron apparently thought so too, but the redhead just gave him an amused look and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Nothing bad," he assured him. "It's just that for the first time ever Snape is being hailed as a hero by Gryffindors. He and Dumbledore were like the bloody cavalry, weren't they?"

"They saved our lives," Harry agreed. He'd be the first to admit that. "I'll have to tell Snape. He'll laugh himself sick."

"Snape laughs?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Sometimes," Harry admitted. "Usually when I've done something stupid."

"Figures," Ron rolled his eyes again. "Don't tell him, anyway. He's insufferable enough as it is. He'd hold this over our heads for the rest of our lives - and probably find someway of taking points from Gryffindor for it too."

"Probably," Harry agreed. Snape did love taking points from Gryffindor.

"Anyway lots of people wanted to know if. . ." he broke off hesitantly, looking at Harry uncertainly. Harry just nodded to him, encouraging him to say what ever it was. "If you had killed anyone," Ron finished. "And what curses you had used. But Hermione and I figured it wasn't anyone's business, and we told them so."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said gratefully. He knew the questions were inevitable, given their age group. But it was nice to know that Ron and Hermione at least understood.

"You okay, Harry?" Ron asked softly, and Harry knew what he was really asking.

"No," Harry admitted. "But I'll manage. It's nice to know I can count on you two."

Ron nodded fiercely, fighting back some emotion. He reached out to pat Harry on the shoulder and then thought better of it, perhaps remembering the arrow that had been there yesterday. He squeezed Harry's hand instead, the gesture as unfamiliar as it was welcomed. Harry was not demonstrative with anyone. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been hugged - something only Hermione, Molly Weasley and Sirius had ever dared do.