Sorting Priorities (a Romione/Dramione Fic)

Chapter 13 • The Owlery Isn't Ideal For Fibbing In

Harry sat down on the edge of his bed, numbly recounting last night's outing. He'd been so foolish! How could he have been so dumb? He knew he could trust Hermione to keep her word; why did he have to go ruining their friendship over such a petty thing? He closed his eyes and ran his hands down his face, groaning. And on top of that, he'd let the cloak brush Hermione's ankles, so she knew he'd been there. Who else had an invisibility cloak?

He'd felt guilty that he was there at all, and even guiltier that he'd eavesdropped on Hermione's argument. He even felt bad that he hadn't gotten a detention, but in retrospect, he wouldn't have wanted to be those two Ravenclaws anyways. Harry groaned again. Things were really looking dark for him and Hermione.

He stood up, stretching, and jammed his glasses on his face, his eyes still bleary from his late midnight outing. Grabbing his wand, he tried to get his robes to iron themselves, but all they did was start stinking even stronger of the last Herbology lesson. He sighed, flicking his wand and casting the scourgify spell. He'd have to get the hang of the ironing spell; the past few days he hadn't had Hermione to help him master it. As he shoved on his trainers, Ron began to stir; then he sat up, yawning.

"Hey, mate, w-what are y-you doing up so early? Didn't you go out last night?" Ron asked through another yawn. "Did you find anything cool?"

"Er, no," Harry said uncomfortably, lacing up his shoes more quickly. "I'll just meet you at breakfast. I just--want to ask Hermione something really quick." He finished his shoes and was out the door in a flash, leaving a bewildered Ron in his wake.

When Harry reached the bottom of the dormitory stairs, he looked around the common room, scanning the chairs for any sign of Hermione. Sure enough, she sat, stony faced, in a chair by the fire, flipping through a thick book about charmwork.

"Hey, listen, Hermione," he bagan, awkwardly standing by her chair as she looked angrily down at her book. "I didn't mean for--" Hermione cut him off.

"For me to notice you?" she asked, slamming her book shut. "You ought not to have even been there in the first place. Out of bed, lurking near Filch, and spying in one of your best friends...! I don't why I'm even trying with you anymore. Why don't you trust me, Harry?"

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, but had no reply. It wasn't that he didn't trust Hermione; he did. It was that he couldn't make her believe him, especially since his recent actions weren't exemplary of the usual deep bond of trust they shared.

Hermione sniffed. "I thought as much," she said, then returned to her book. "You can go down to breakfast now, Harry."

Harry wanted to stay and defend his position, but he realized he wouldn't be able to justify his actions, and instead climbed out the portrait hole, sadly walking away from his friend.

When Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, he was met by the Creevy brothers excitedly waving him over to sit by them. Ignoring the invitation, Harry instead sat down by Parvati, nodding a hello and grabbing a bowl for cereal. It was several minutes before Ron or Hermione arrived, and Harry had nearly finished his last piece of toast when Ron came in.

"Hey, mate," Ron said, sitting down by Harry. "Hermione seems rather...angry today. Do you know why?" He poured a glass of orange juice and pulled a plate of sausages over before stopping. "You know, now that I think on it, she's been rather moody ever since the beginning of that break."

Harry shoved his last bite into his mouth to save himself from having to answer and shrugged. Swallowing, he said, "How should I know? You're the one of us snogging her every day."

"Well, actually," Ron began, casting an uneasy glance at harry, "she said it was you she was cross with."

Harry started. "What?! Why would she tell you that? Did she say anything else? About the reason she was angry? About what I may have done?" He looked desperately at Ron, hoping Hermione had not mentioned Draco. Nothing good would come of it now that it was all broken off.

"Nah, didn't say anything else. Mind you, she doesn't often tell me much about things between you two." A suspicious look came in his eyes. "Say...you two haven't....?"

Harry hastily shook his head. "Eurgh! No! Merlin's pants, no! No offense, mate, but Hermione... No." He shook his head fervently, silently thankful that Hermione had kept her reasons for her anger between her and Harry.

Ron had a look of mingled confusion and relief on his face, not sure whether to feel offended at Harry's slight on Hermione or grateful that Harry would never try to make a move on his girlfriend. He finally settled on a terse nod, then returned to his food, wolfing everything down.

Hermione entered the hall a few moments later, and cast an icy glare at Harry before sitting down by Ron, leaning over to peck his cheek before accepting her Daily Prophet from a delivery owl.

"Any news on Voldemort?" Harry asked, craning his neck to get a glance at the front page, ignoring the small slop of juice falling onto his plate from Ron's start of surprise at the name.

Hermione flipped through the pages scanning each one. "Well, it doesn't look like it, but we all know that the minister is trying to keep morale up. He wouldn't post a huge story on a murder so soon after the last massacre." Her eyes turned dark as she recalled the last muggle mass-murder, then glanced coldly at Harry again to show they weren't back on friendly terms.

Harry sighed. Would he and Hermione ever be on good terms again? He grabbed a plain piece of toast off a plate to give to Hedwig and started up to the owlery to give it to her. Climbing the stairs, another wave of guilt washed over Harry about what he'd done.

Slowly trudging up the stone staircase, Harry almost slammed right in to the hurrying form of Ginny as she turned down the stairs.

"Oh! Hey, Ginny," Harry said, his spirits immediately soaring as he saw her beautiful flaming hair. "What're you doing up here? Didn't you send what you needed at breakfast?"

Ginny smiled, taking Harry's hand as he fed the toast to his owl. "Well, I would have, but Errol's looking especially weak today, so I decided to use a school owl instead." She directed Harry's attention to a sodden, patchy-looking owl on a perch near the back of the room that barely bore any semblance of life.

"Yeah, he doesn't look so well." Harry tossed the last piece of bread at Hedwig, watching her beak pluck it from the air.

"What are you and Hermione cross at each other for?" Ginny asked after a period of silence. "I've noticed that you two have been rather distant lately."

Harry felt his palms turning sweaty. What should he tell Ginny? He could trust her, but the issue was practically over now. Would it be worth it to stir up old problems when things were so close to resolving?

"Erm, it's nothing, really. A silly thing. It's all pretty much fine now. I really have to get going. I have...uh...potions, so I have to go."

Harry hurried out the door, trying to avoid any questions as a confused and slightly hurt Ginny called after him, "But you have a free period this morning!"