Wot In The Harri Potter?

11 - The Hero

"Oi!"

I march up the corridor, my blood boiling in anger as I approach a guilty looking Ron and Hermione.

"What the hell is your game?" I splutter angrily. "That is next level low, spying on me like that! Next time you want to ask me something then just ask you pathetic cowards! I thought we were friends!"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about!" Ron splutters, stepping behind Hermione like the coward he is.

"Stomachache all gone, has it?"

Shamefaced, Hermione reaches out to touch my arm. "Look, Harri-"

"Oh, so it speaks now does it?!" I snap, snatching my arm away. "Luckily for you both, Draco is as oblivious as they come. But me - not so much!"

I feel so hurt and betrayed by them both, that I can't even look at them anymore.

"We're sorry, Harri." Hermione says, "But we had to be sure that you weren't the Heir of Slytherin."

My mouth falls open. "You are both unbelievable! Do you really honestly think I'm capable of going around and terrorizing Muggle-borns? Do you guys not even know me at all?"

"Well you did threaten Justin." Ron points out.

"BECAUSE HE IS AN UNGRATEFUL TWAT!" I roar in his face. "NOT BECAUSE HE IS A MUGGLE-BORN, YOU DIMWIT!"

I feel so angry, I am literally shaking.

"We're really sorry, Harri," Hermione says, her bottom lip trembling.

"Yeah, well I'm not." I glare at her, satisfied to see tears swimming in her eyes. "And it served you right what Draco said, even if I don't agree."

"Take that back!" Ron growls, removing his wand with a shaking hand.

"Ron, don't!" Hermione gasps. "She's every right to be angry-"

I don't listen to any more. Instead, I whirl around and march away, furtively wiping the tears from my face before anyone can see.

*****

"I don't know why you're letting it bother you," Pansy shrugs when I confide in her about it later. "You don't need them, you've got us. Slytherins and Gryffindors do not mix, it's like a rule or something."

"That's a stupid rule," I say, wrinkling my nose.

"Come on," Pansy says, linking her arm in mine. "Let's go and see the birthday prince and lavish him with gifts he doesn't need."

It is Draco's fourteenth birthday. He is already sat languishing on the sofa when we step out of the dormitory and into the common room, a large pile of wrapped gifts on the coffee table before him.

Seeing us, he eagerly pats the space next to him, beckoning for me to join him. "Harri! Here, you can help me unwrap."

"Open this first," I say, dropping a rectangular package into his lap as I sit down next to him.

He opens it greedily, his eyes lighting up when a pair of green Quidditch gloves are revealed beneath the wrapping.

"Thanks, Harri," he drawls, draping an arm around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my scar. "You're the best."

I blush.

Everything is ruined though, when Daphne chooses that moment to come rushing in, breathless and hot faced.

"Guess what?!" She gasps, heading straight for us. "It's got Granger! Everyone is saying she's dead!"

I am deafened by Draco's whoop of joy. He lets go of me to jump up, the gloves I have bought him, falling to the floor, forgotten about. "BEST. BIRTHDAY. PRESENT. EVER!"