The Secret's In The Telling by Sakuri

chapter 38

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Chapter 38: Motives

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Ron was not the quickest of thinkers, but when a particular suspicion occurred to him – and repeatedly popped into his head when he was least expecting its presence, resulting in the most interesting expressions springing into life – even he could no longer ignore the unwelcome thoughts.

Currently, he was sat with Harry and Hermione at the Gryffindor breakfast table. While the rest of his housemates exuded a sense of relief to see their Trio talking again, Harry was tenser than ever. Once again, he was worried about Remus, who'd been called away in the middle of the night and had yet to return or be heard from. The boy stared morosely at his food, glaring at a dry piece of toast and poking at his bowl of soggy cornflakes.

From the corner of his eye, Ron saw the Slytherin breeze into the room. He scowled, unable to rid himself of the automatic resentment that filled him, but his attention stayed on Harry. Green eyes blinked themselves into awareness, slowly flicking up to settle on the blonde, following him as he crossed the Hall.

The Suspicion pounded away in Ron's mind, but he shoved it violently aside, shaking his head.

Around them, a dozen conversations that would normally be considered riveting were taking place. Hermione and Ginny were talking about the DA meetings – what was coming up, what they'd already covered, what an improvement it was over Snape as a DADA Professor. Katie was telling anyone who would listen about the Quidditch matches that were scheduled for the rest of that year, the strategies they'd use, and the plans she had to incorporate Harry's Seeker skills. And across from them, Seamus was leading a conversation on the usually fascinating topic of, quite simply, girls. Beneath the table, he passed around a magazine containing Merlin only knew what kind of brilliant pictures...

And throughout it all, Harry's attention never strayed from the bloody Slytherin. Ron twitched with pure frustration.

The Suspicion reared in him, and he found himself turning to Hermione with an expression of mild panic.

She was waiting for him, it seemed. Calmly, momentarily breaking away from her conversation with Ginny, she looked at him inquisitively. "Ron, you have finished Professor Snape's essay, haven't you? It's due in today, you know."

His eyes went wide. Essay...? What essay? Why hadn't she told him before now?

He vaguely recalled being given some long winded title he hadn't been able to make heads nor tails of, and instructed that he was to write a full roll of parchment on the subject. Shit! Snape would give him detention for a month if he didn't have something to show, not to mention the amount of points he'd take...!

"Gotta go."

Hermione watched with a sense of satisfaction as the redheaded wizard rushed off, presumably to make some last-ditch attempt at his homework. She'd seen the frown that had slowly gathered on his face, and known what it meant.

Leaning across, she poked Harry sharply in the ribs, making him jump and recoil. "Stop being so obvious!" she hissed at him, and had turned away before his look of incredulity had even been fully realised.

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The day dragged on forever, until by the end of it Harry felt exhausted. Not from class work – which he'd tuned out for the most part – but from worry. Remus had said he probably wouldn't be away for the whole night, and certainly not this late into the day. He still couldn't believe this was happening again...

It had been great timing that he and Ron had made up the previous evening. He suspected he would have lost his temper entirely if the other boy had continued his sulking any longer, the mood he was in. As it was, both Ron and Hermione had come through for him, offering what useless comfort they could.