Harry Potter and the Lost Half-Bloods. *1*

Harry

I have an episode of wizard angst

HARRY: Fifth year wasn't starting out to be a great year. Even before I got to the school I could say that. This was the first year I'd ridden to school without Ron, and my second without Hermione. The worst part of all of this was the fact that I had to ride by myself, and I think I may be going mad. Why, you may ask?

Nothing had ever pulled the Hogwarts carriages; they'd always gone by themselves. Why would that suddenly change this year? Why were there suddenly strange, horse-like creatures pulling them down the path?

Once I'd finally met up with Hermione and Ron at the feast, I didn't have time to discuss my questions with them. All they cared about were their prefect plans and their conspiracies about Nico. I'd bitten my tongue multiple times, trying to hold back the anger I was feeling towards them for their comments about the kid. Hermione and Ron weren't thick enough to actually believe the ministry's stupid articles, were they? My worst fear was, what if they believed the stuff the ministry way saying about me?

Maybe I was being defensive; Nico's story was quite similar to mine, after all. The only thing Ron and Hermione were saying was that they felt he was odd and something about his story was off. Even if that was true, it wasn't their business to judge him too harshly.

After he was sorted, none of us said anything. None of the Gryffindors had been expecting it. I was more annoyed than surprised at his sorting. I was annoyed because his house gave Ron and Hermione more reasons to conjure up their own stupid theories. 

It took a half hour of sitting alone in the common room before Hermione and Ron had finally finished doing whatever it is they had to do. This brings us to where I am now.

***

"Sorry, Harry. Perfect duties. Those first years have been rowdy ever since the sorting." Hermione explained. "Won't stop talking about Di Angelo."

"First years aren't the only ones. I haven't heard a conversation without the words "Nico" or "Di Angelo" since I've arrived. It's quite annoying, really." Ron complained. He sprawled out of the common room couch. I took a chair beside the couch, and Hermione spread her books on the floor. She sat cross-legged, facing us. 

"It's not his fault, you know. I'm sure people felt the same way when I was sorted first year. Even today, I can't go down the corridor without students whispering my name." I pointed out. Ron scoffed.

"Yeah, but you weren't sorted into Slytherin! I knew there was something off about him and I think we've just found it."

Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. I think she sensed an argument coming on.

"Just because he was sorted into Slytherin? Ron, that doesn't automatically make him a bad person. Not all Slytherins are bad." Ron scoffed again, then howled with laughter.

"Draco Malfoy, ring a bell?"

"He's one rotten Slytherin. That doesn't mean the whole lot of them are rubbish." I said, biting back my anger.

"Hah! One? One?! Malfoy isn't the only one! I could name hundreds more!"

"With the level of education you're speaking with at the moment, I'm surprised you can even count that high!" I argued.

Hermione slammed her book shut.

"Can we not do this, boys? We haven't even started classes or had a full day at the school yet and you two are already arguing. Shut it, both of you."

"All I'm saying is that bad people have come from other houses besides Slytherin. Lockhart, Quirrell, Peter Pettigrew!" I remarked.

"Okay, I get it. I'm wrong, as always. Let's just end the discussion before wands are drawn." Ron said, jokingly.

I shook my head. Not in the mood for jokes, I gathered my things.

"I'm going to bed."

"Harry--Come on mate, I didn't mean to-"

I heard Hermione sigh.

"Just drop it, Ron. It isn't worth it."