Real or Not Real {Harry Potter}

Forty Nine

-Goodbye Yellow Brick Road-

-this boy's too young-

-to be singing the blues-

The Hogsmeade dates never stop. It's one of the most efficient and effective ways to get their message across, that Harry and Bria are in love and it could never be broken.

It's all a lie, anyway.

Harry and Bria are comfortable holding hands now. At least, Harry is finally comfortable. Bria never seemed to be as nervous or hesitant with these sort of things compared to Harry.

Of course, Harry and Bria never go on a date just the two of them, and instead, the two hangout at Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione.

Harry is regretting his usual decision of having Ron and Hermione tag along, because that just means that Hermione is going to spend the whole time badgering him about the Potions book.

"So you just decided to try out an unknown, handwritten incantation and see what would happen?" Hermione asks from the other side of Bria.

"Why does it matter if it's handwritten?" Harry says.

"Because it's probably not Ministry of Magic-approved," Hermione says. "And also," she adds, as Harry and Ron roll their eyes, :because I'm starting to think this Prince character was a bit dodgy."

"It was just a stupid spell, Hermione," Ron says.

"Dangling people upside-down by the ankle?" Hermione says. "Who puts their time and energy into making up spells like that?"

Ron shrugs. "Fred and George."

"I'm sure my mom would've loved to use that on me when I was little," Bria chimes in.

"I think you're proving Hermione's point, mate," Ron says, pointing out that Bria's mother is anything but a kind woman.

"My dad," Harry blurts out. He had only just remembered.

The other three stop to look at him.

"My dad used this spell," Harry quickly says. "I – Lupin told me."

This last part was not true; in fact, Harry had seen his father use the spell on Snape, but he had never told Ron, Hermione, or Bria about that particular excursion into the Pensieve. Now, however, a wonderful possibility occurred to him. Could the Half-Blood Prince possibly be –?

"Maybe your dad did use it, Harry," Hermione says, "but he's not the only one. We've seen a whole bunch of people use it, in case you've forgotten. Dangling people in the air. Making them float along, asleep, helpless."

Harry stares at her. With a sinking feeling he, too, remembers the behavior of the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup.

Ron shakes his head. "That was different. They were abusing it. Harry's dad was just having a laugh. You don't like the Prince, Hermione," he adds, "because he's better than you at Potions –"

"It's got nothing to do with that!" Hermione exclaims, her cheeks reddening.

Bria and Harry exchange a look. They both certainly know that it has a little bit to do with that fact.

"I just think it's very irresponsible to start performing spells when you don't even know what they're for, and stop talking about "the Prince" as if it's his title, I bet it's just a stupid nickname and it doesn't seem as though he was a very nice person to me!"

Bria turns to look at her. "You think he might be a Death Eater?"

Hermione scowls. "He's dabbling with his own spells, none of which became patented. It just seems dark."